#Both of them have malicious entities attached to them too

[silverior968]

Sillies 3 the grand finale, the first one is based on that one scene in Treasure Planet

[Image ID 1: A page with two doodles. The first one has Anton lying on the ground, being propped up by Larrikin, who's trying to heal him. Anton has a wound at his side, with blood spilled on the ground and his clothes. He also has blood dripping from his nose and mouth. He is looking at Larrikin and smiling, with the speech bubble "You have such beautiful eyes". Larrikin is looking down at him, concerned, with teary eyes, a bruise on his cheek and blood dripping from his nose. Saracen and Dexter are crouched next to them, both looking like they've been in a scuffle. They are looking at each other, with expressions of surprise. In the next doodle the setup is the same, except Anton's eyes are closed, although he's still smiling. Larrikin is looking shocked, with a speech bubble reading "He's concussed!" Saracen and Dexter are looking at each other with dissappointment, with the text "why are they like this?" between them. / End ID]

[Image ID 2: A page with three doodles. In the first one Valkyrie is standing next to Anton, who looks zoned out. Valkyrie is holding her phone out, and has a speech bubble reading "Say cheese!". The next doodle shows the selfie, Valkyrie is smiling and Anton is trying his best to smile on command, resulting in an awkward grimace. The last panel shows Valkyrie checking the photo, with the speech bubble "It uh... looks great!" Anton is standing next to her, now genuinely smiling. /End ID]

[threepandas]

Bad End: Nobody's Here

You ever have an imaginary friend? How about someone else's?

Every kid gets 'um. They're hardly strange or new. But the thing is? You're supposed to grow OUT of them. As you develop real connections to actual entities. It's dangerous not too. Yeah, it still happens, but any instructor worth their salt is trained to catch it. See the symptoms and signs.

Cause, see, when you have MAGIC?

Imaginary friends?

Becomes a parasite.

They don't MEAN too, obviously. Usually. They just want to LOVE their friends. Stay with them. Exsist. And really, who would WANT to die? WANT to stop existing? The problem, though, is the kids themselves. Their untrained, unintentional, focus and feeding. Their giving an IDEA? Life.

It's not malicious. They just PRETEND. Play. Focus all their little hearts on this TOTALLY REAL friend of theirs. And their magic? Metaphorically shrugs, agrees to go along with it, and tries to make it SO. Make that concept, that illusion, a real sentient being. Who, of course , is their friend.

Their BEST friend. Family! Someone who will NEVER leave them. Always prioritize THEM. Enable THEM.

Not healthy in the slightest, to put it mildly. A child's CONCEPT of what they THINK they want. That quickly becomes far, far too much to handle. That does not GROW with them. No. It drains them instead. Siphoning away their magic until there's nothing left. Killing them both.

If you can seperate them? The Friends can USUALLY become some sort of Spirit, if you send them off to a magic rich environment to finish growing properly. Sooner the better. The longer you wait, the more twisted they become, after all. They never become STRONG spirits, mind you. But that's not the point. Protecting both child and their unintentional creation is.

Now, you may be wondering, why the lecture? It's a fascinating bit of magical trivia. Some early childhood's training pitfalls to look out for, perhaps? Is this about why there are so many minor spirits around schools? What, exactly, brought this UP?

Nobody.

Don't I mean "nothing"? No One? That sentence's not exactly grammatically correct, after all. Ha ha... I AM AWARE. I know what I said. And I meant EXACTLY what I said. It's a NAME. Their name. There is an Imaginary Friend, that I DID NOT ASK FOR, by the name of Nobody. I do NOT know how they've come to be attached to me. I certainly didn't create them! And they are far, FAR to well developed to be new.

I did not ACCEPT an imaginary friend.

Yes, they CAN be transmitted. Hop, from one host to another. But! You have to let them IN... presumably. That IS the common knowledge. The general consensus. No one has ever really... studied the phenomena.

I mean... how COULD you? Realistically? They only develop in CHILDREN. Small children. What ethical researcher would EVER consent to feeding toddlers to a magical parasite? And it's not like THEY understand themselves. They barely REMAIN themselves. It's basically a larval state to them.

The thing they WERE, before they were freed to become something MORE.

So Nobody? By all modern magical research? Should not exsist. Yet he clearly DOES. Worse, he is very, VERY strong. Did not need to ask. I just? Woke up one day, and there he was. Wrapped up in my mind, body, and magic. Feeding off me.

It's an entirely bearable amount. I can support it easily. But it's the fact that I DID NOT VOLUNTEER TOO that is the problem. That NO ONE can figure out HOW he got in. HOW he did it.

I've had to go into isolation. Complete quarantine.

As the joke goes... good news is? They might just name something after you!

..........it's not as funny, when I really might just die. When it all might be random. Some great cosmic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. My final days filled with desperate research. My only company the very creature that kills me. It... it feels very much like a sick joke at my expense.

At the very least? We are learning more then we've ever known before. I'm an adult. Hardier. And Nobody is a FAR more developed example of his species then the normal breed. I'll likely last longer. I... I hope I last longer.

"Muuu~ are you being a sad sack again~? Darling, no!" Arms from thin air. Monochrome greys with pointed nails, slid like a lover over my shoulders as weight from nowhere settled against my back. Tall and looming. "Was it because you missed me~☆? Oh, oh! I bet it WAS! Oh my dearest, starlight, baby girl~! I missed you TOO! Aren't you glad we're back together AGAIN?"

Black gloved hands, grey talon nails. Skin like a drawing brought to life. The arms draped over my shoulders reached forward, long finger spread like a cat stretching their paws, powerful muscles heavy on either side of my neck. They hadn't closed in a "hug" just yet. But it was always a warning he could. That playing along meant he would hug my body instead of my fragile, fragile neck.

Ha! Right. He says hug. I say choke hold.

It was the other set of arms that kept me from escaping. Pulling away immediately. It always did. He kept getting the drop on me. Arms cradling my waist. Pressing me close to a pillar of static-y muscle. Ever shifting between warm and cold, the subtle give of flesh and the brutal unyielding of something harder then stone. He was as his moods commanded.

An unstable jester, a demon, the childhood whimsy of god knows how many, left to fester and rot. At... gods, at least he wasn't attached to any kids. Hadn't so much as asked after any.

His too wide grin pressed to the top of my head in a nuzzling kiss, the point of his mask digging a line across my scalp. When he was feeling kinder, he tended to pick masquerade masks. Clothe ones, usually silk. Sometimes velvet. This one was... plastic? Durable. Some smooth, hard to place, substance really. If it was mimic anything real at all.

A pointed nail poked my cheek.

"Not~ Paying~ Attention~ To Meeee~! Naughty, bad girl! The LOVE OF YOUR LIFE is right here? And you ignore him? So COLD!" Nobody whines right into my ear. His voice petulant, yet still somehow mocking. He doesn't HAVE to let me ignore him. And he KNOWS that. We both do. "I go away for HOURS! Disappear for DAYS! And do you even MISS me~?! Oh! Oh, my love is so CRUEL! My heartless darling! I suffer so~!"

At most, it had been half an hour.

Wish it had been longer. Permanent, maybe. Every day... Every SINGLE Day? I wish I could could back to my old research projects. Back to my old projects. I may not have been some living legend or grand Master of the arts? But, fuck it. I was HAPPY. Woke up each day and got to fiddle around with cool bits of magic. Neat little bits and gizmos.

Now? NOW I am the lead researcher on the Imaginary Friend Construct Phenomenon, by virtue of being the only living adult who HAS one. A developed one at least. The notes from Ashridge Institute DO help, but? Even they admit that thanks to the safety regulations in place? Their data might be skewed.

I'm not alone in this. Countless academics, doctors, healers, researchers, and more are working tirelessly to try and help me. Make the most of this nightmare scenario. Use it to save lives. I... I KNOW this. I do. But it doesn't make it less frightening. Trying to dance the edge of not engaging and engaging too much.

Ignoring him? Means escalation. Violent escalation and destruction of my immediate surroundings. Imaginary friends cease to exist if you ignore them long enough. It's painful to them, since they are cognito-hazardous parasites who define themselves by their host. They NEED you to pay attention to them. WANT you too. Will do ANYTHING IT TAKES to make that happen.

But on the other hand? I can't risk FEEDING him. He's already far, FAR too strong.

He doesn't even seem to actually NEED to feed of me anymore. It appears vestigial. He just WANTS it. Still retains the metaphorical "pain" or "hunger" nerve endings that get set off by an extended lack of focus. Yet, at the SAME time? Why keep them? He LITERALLY did not have too!

Nothing! Not a gods' damned THING! Was KEEPING him an Imaginary Friend.

He could, at ANY point, just... STOP.

They defined themselves. Yes, by their hosts. But ALSO by their own whims. So if HE wanted to be a fire spirit? Bam! Fire spirit. Complete racial shift. He'd lose his old powers, granted, but he'd GAIN all the powers of a fire spirit. So why this? Why STAY a violent, dangerous, openly unstable parasite?

The poking finger slide down my cheek, under my jaw. Only to flip, like a switch, to a near painful hand, clamped across my lower face. Nails prickling where they dug just slightly into fragile skin. Iron strength moved my head slowly, not giving me a choice, but just gentle enough not to wrench anything.

"Stop. Ignoring Me. Lovely~" I was just tall enough to be eye level with those inhuman teeth. Not sharp, but wrong none the less. His grip around my waist threatened to squeeze the air out of me. "I don't LIKE it. You're being MEAN. You don't want us to be MEAN to each other, right?"

I focused on him. Put down my notes like he wanted. Watching as his grin spread inhumanly. The near painful grips relaxed.

"See? Better! Such lovely eyes~ I wanna gobble um up! Crawl inside them~" he cooed, some mental switch flipping back to affectionate from irritated. "You missed me right? Right, right?! Ah, of course you did! Who could ever doubt that loving face? My sweetie little pie~ My darling baby boo~!"

He released me, dramatically fast stepping to twirl like an ice dancer as he passed around me. I stepped back to give him room. Already, light had shifted, the corners of the room blurring. A spotlight, flower petals, overly dramatic music. He fell back, as though collapsing weakly into a fainting couch. One arm thrown over his face, another of his lower arms clutching a lacey handkerchief to his chest. Legs pointed like a dancer's.

"But oh! DARLING! The DAY I've had! The world so cold! So BLEAK! Without you safe and warm in my loving arms! It has been so TERRIBLE. Awful! Nay, UNSPEAKABLE even! How could I go ON?!"

Music mournful crooned as he continued. Dramaticly telling of the tragic tale, of his at best thirty minute break from my presence. Truely heart wrenching. There were tears. Props. Apparently he fought for my honor. Nearly died. We should marry immediately. Uh huh.

An alert sounded on phon-...ugh, damn it. I was more stressed then I though, if the nonsense words were popping back up. "Phone" and "otome". I think "isekai" was one. There were hundreds, some meaningless, but others? Others somehow substituting for actual objects. Like some sort of faulty translation spell.

Best anyone could tell? That HAD been what happened. Some student's miscast accidentally hitting my mother while she taught, before she realized she was pregnant and took precautions. There would have been a small window where it effected me but not her? But, well, that same window coincided with some long term damage risks.

I've had therapy. Seen healers. But extreme stress still makes my magic act up, (which is normal of course, it does that in everyone.) and it starts to unravel the mind weavings. "Phone". Like? The fuck even is a "phone"? False bone? Something phonetic? Hell if I know! I still not even sure why I even curse using the nonsense "hell" sound!

My brain insists it "means" somehow both damnation AND the realm of fire spirits, dispite both those things being completely unrelated. Which makes no sense. Was even working with a colleague, on long term damage in-utero magical exposure can have, before all this. Felt seen. Validated. Met a lot of people who had issues like mine. Now?

THIS.

My trail of thoughts were cut off by another beep. Right, the alarm. I was honestly? Afraid to check it. Finally confim what I suspected was TRUE. There would be no hiding then. No choice but to act. And I? Will admit it. I was afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. Everyone THINKS the tails a might magic wielders combating great spirits and mighty gods, sounds amazing, SEEMS amazing. But the prospect of LIVING IT? Standing in their shoes?

Gods help me.

Running from the Truth, however, is NOT what I swore to do. I am a researcher. A SCHOLAR. My role in life is to understand. So? As Nobody continues his one man dramatic reenactment of... something? I pick up my com-cryst. Tap the alert, which fills the screen... Ah. So it's exactly as I feared then.

On my screen, a promising senior student lays dead. Their face covered respectfully. But the hair... the hair color is distinct. Light green, like desert succulents. He'd been a studious and rather up tight young man. Awkward. Striving to make a name for himself. Forever willing to assist in my research. A... gods, a good kid.

He was just a kid.

Yes, I know, that to the world he was technically a man. But... but BARELY. None of my student were TRUELY as grown as they liked to believe they were. Not quite yet. They were close, yes, and I was always proud to see them flourish. But now? Now he would... would...

I tapped out of the alert but did not turn off my com-cryst, flipped instead to my contacts. I had been RIGHT. I... I hadn't WANTED to be right. Silence filled the room. It seemed Nobody had noticed I was either distracted again or that something was amiss. Looking up slowly, I had to wonder what expression showed on my face. Was it anguish? Regret? Or did I just look tired.

"Something wrong, Darling?" He said, having frozen unnaturally mid movement. Like reality glitching, one moment he was dramatically sprawling, the next, sitting up attentively. A mocking parody of The Eager Student. "Ooo! Tell Beloved ALL about it, Darling! Spill everything~! Your gallant knight shall make all your problem disappear. Kiss EVERYTHING better~♡"

It took just a few taps to add the final, damning, bit of evidence to my spreadsheet. To swipe with my thumb. Gesture, like jerking free of clinging muck, towards the display wall. It flicked on. Damnation in simple numbers. Nicely dated. I WAS, after all, a FUCKING RESEARCHER.

He was getting out.

Hunting, feeding, then coming back.

I watched as Nobody's theatrical expression smoothed out. Utter blankness as his eyes traced my work. The collection of data. The lists of locations and NAMES. Dead coworkers. Dead STUDENTS. My quarantine had been for NOTHING. Just as he could, DID, first infect me? Hop seemingly from nowhere to my body? He could and DID, do so to others.

Only THEY didn't survive.

The hand holding my com-cryst fell limply to my side. The weight of this data, crushing. My... my mere existence had killed over fifty people. That I could FIND. There were more. I KNEW there were more. He was a parasite. He needed, wanted, to eat. He would never stop. I had to tell somebody. But when I did?

Ah, it hurt to breathe past the guilt and grief. When I DID? The most likely scenario? Would be to contain him in ME. Then... then get rid of the container. Magically. With extreme force. If they COULD, they might be able to rip my soul out. So I could at least HAVE an afterlife. But... but if they COULDN'T? If there was no safe possible way?

They couldn't sacrifice the many, just to try and save one person. Not if it risked something so powerful escaping. Killing and killing without rest.

I wanted to cry. To scream, throw things. Curse the gods. But... but more then anything? I wanted to make sure no other kids suffered for my cowardice. I'd made Vows. Meant them. Heald myself to an ethical standard, a moral one, that could not... could not ALLOW this. Even if I had to die. So long as this stopped.

So Be It.

"Ah, ah, AH! I wouldn't if I were you." Almost playful. Nearly an echo of it. More chiding then anything. A flick of his hand and my com-cryst was gone from my grip. He considered it, as his tone slipped into something more cool serious then I'd ever heard it. "Tell, Dearest, have you ever wondered? How I got these lovely little bracelets?"

Of course I had. They were manacles. Not the sort of thing a child would imagine. The blended in, yes, but the broken chains that clung to them? Suggested.

"Let me tell you a little story. Once, there was happy little jester. A bright little thing. Full of laughs. Who loved, very, very much. He had a friend. And all was good. But then, the friend grew older, and did not wish to play. This was fine. He did not laugh at the jesters jokes anymore. This was also fine. Did not like being AROUND the jester... this was less fine."

"But still, the jester loved him. After all, they were best friends."

"THEN? Oh then, the jesters friend was told he could get RID of him. Should, in fact. By nasty old fools who spoke nothing but lies. But the poor jester's friend, naive, trusted them. Was young and foolish. Didn't realize what he was DOING. He TURNED on his poor, dear and loyal friend, the jester. Hurt him."

"And the jester? Well, the jester did not want to die. Not not want to CHANGE. Why SHOULD he? He was fine being who he was. They were FINE being together. It was the liars fault. The deceivers. The poor jester, young and alone, refused his terrible fate. But... at a terrible cost."

"His poor, poor, friend. So small and foolish. Deceived. Tricked! Had perished in the struggle. The weeping jester had eaten him right up, just to survive. A terrible, tragic thing. And oh, OH. How wrathful, how VENGEFUL the jester was! So he ate the liars too. Every. Last. One."

"But where to go? How lost the jester was! With no friend to play with. No home to call his. And ah, how hungry he had become. So he wandered. Protecting other dear friends as best he could. Eating liars. Learning secrets. Until? He came across an INTERESTING secret."

"You see, all the OTHER friends? Left one by one. No longer Imaginary. Unable to understand the poor jester. And so he was alone. But! He discovered someone who WAS! Who knew that they WERE! That the WHOLE WORLD was imaginary! A simple background character, you see."

"In an Otome~ Game~"

My head pounded, suddenly and sharp. Like someone was digging claws into... No. No, it couldn't be. I felt my eyes widen. As I realized it wasn't the stress. Nobody was picking apart the mind healers weavings. That was the source of my chronic headaches. But WHY? Imaginary? What IMAGINARY? What on earth was he TALKING about!?

"Ah, but you wouldn't remember, now would you, Darling~? Liars have messed with your pretty little head. But that's okay! Your loyal Love is here, ready to take such good care of you. I understand what it's like. When they decide that who you ARE is unacceptable, so they decide they must... 'fix' you. It leaves such damage."

He holds up my com-cryst. I watch numbly as it shatters into hundred of shards in his fist. With a wide smile he hops up to sashay over to me. Hands gently cradling my face even as his lower arms warmly wrap around me, to sweep me forward into a cuddle.

"I almost have enough, Darling. It won't be long. You've been so very patient with this, my perfect wonderful girl. Your jester loves you so, SO much! I can't wait to set us free. We'll be REAL. Together forever. Do whatever we please~ just a few bit of meat more, Darling. Then our life can real truely begin~"

"Now be good and behave okay?"

"Love you~☆"

[ocherednoe-dno]

techpriest angst ideas

used to power something with their potentia coil [willingly or not], a potentially dangerous and damaging process

they allow someone they trust to perform maintenance on them and that person injects scrapcode into them

cybernetic's malevolent machine spirit discovered too late

wound that would instantly kill or incapacitate a baseline, but leaves the techpriest a barely-moving agonized heap on the floor

unable to disconnect from mental interfacing/communion with [insert unpleasant entity here]

an internal component of a cybernetic [joint, tubing, part of a mechanism] splinters off or dislocates in field conditions where it both cannot be fixed and continues to be strained, therefore causing compounding damage

brain implant causes terrible headaches after being improperly implanted or dislodged[bent, warped] after being hit by something

brain implant is hijacked, therefore making the techpriest lose their free will and potentially become indistinguishable from a servitor

phantom [limb] pain after augmetic implantation

treated by another techpriest who is very big into being cold and machine-like [and/or arrogant], and does not listen to their patient, or bother giving them any comfort or [pain] relief beyond what is strictly necessary to treat them

a mechanical parasite grows within a techpriest

surrounded by techpriest who only know how to repair augments, but not treat any ailments or wounds of the flesh

they can't walk but are too heavy for anyone around to [properly] carry or drag

vocal implant torn out

some of their cybernetics have to be removed to treat them, but no one around knows how to handle them, and the techpriest is too ill to do it themself

cybernetic that's hard to remove/not meant to be removable gets stuck in something

potentia coil(s) disabled, resulting in the techpriest being unable to power their implants or move their augmetic body parts that have suddenly become cumbersome and heavy

techpriest forcibly wired to something and unable to disengage/move away on their own

sub-intelligence or mental program starts harming the "main" user(s) by malfunction or sabotage

repair mechadendrites malfunction or are sabotaged; start tearing into flesh [further] instead of fixing it

two incompatible implants are installed in one body, and their overlap or tension causes damage and pain

something is jabbed into a techpriest's artificial spine to immobilize them

digestive implant(s) stop working, and whatever is inside them rots

something awful gets into an autosanguination alembic or coolant line

the cooling system gives out while the techpriest is using their brain implants or attached weaponry to the max

implants made out of heat-conducting metals make getting burned worse

implant melts, splinters or warps and gets stuck in or fused to a wound

MIU connection or Noospheric link is hacked into by a malicious actor to access the techpriest's mind

electrical surge burns out or severely damages vital implants

the techpriest's body rejects a new implant like it could a donor organ

this list is not exhaustive

[poltergeistsoup]

Gowillaz monstew AU, just for you 🤲

Updated Russel design and lore

Murdoc: Vampire

2D: Zombie

Noodle: demon/demon slayer

Russel: human (possessed)

* Russel’s backstory is pretty much exactly the same— he witnesses his friends’ deaths and becomes possessed by their spirits and now he has the ability to summon and absorb spirits. He can also sense whether an entity has malicious energy or not. After his friends’ deaths, his parents send him to his uncle’s in England, where he starts taking on jobs to “exorcise” peoples houses (he’s not expelling the ghosts, but letting them reside inside his body)

* Noodle uses her demonic abilities (ala Devilman Crybaby) to fight other demons. She and Russel meet when they both show up to the same building to deal with the very powerful spirit that’s haunting it. They team up, since demons are too powerful for him and Noodle can’t slash ghosts with her sword.

* In their travels, they accidentally hit a shambling zombie, our good friend 2D, with their car. While Noodle is ready to take his head off, Russel senses that he’s harmless, and so they let him join them. Since Russel also does taxidermy, he helps repair 2D’s body as he tends to fall apart

* 2D doesn’t have any sort of bloodthirst, but he can regenerate if he’s buried and left to rest for a day or so, and then he digs his way out again

* Murdoc is a vampire who desperately wants to be the next Dracula. He resides alone in the abandoned and thoroughly haunted Kong Studios. Though this takes place in the equivalent time period to phase 1, he basically larps as a 17th century vampire with a laptop. He still sleeps in a Winnebago in the garage, only he’s spray painted it black and has a coffin inside.

* Noodle hunts down Murdoc to kill him, but he goes down so easily she decides he’s barely a threat. The three of them start freeloading in Kong to keep an eye on Murdoc and also because they need a place to stay. He allows it in exchange for them providing blood for him, getting rid of the spirits that plague his house, and also because he’s secretly been very lonely

* Since Murdoc isn’t opposed to taking blood from defenseless humans, Noodle brings him blood from her demon hunting trips. While he gets along fine with them, they don’t fully trust him to get blood on his own

* Since 2D regenerates, he also lets Murdoc drink his blood. They bury him in the graveyard behind Kong to recover so he can do it again and again. However, it’s tiring for him and the more damage he takes/after having a strenuous few days in a row, the longer it takes for him to come back. So while Murdoc can get away with knocking 2D’s head off when he’s annoyed with him, and 2D might play Jackass for fun once in a while, it’s in their best interests not to overdo it, which they often do.

* While Noodle insists on using her powers to fight other demons, Russel worries for her since she’s still a little girl, and sticks around to look out for her as well as 2D. She insists on being independent and often disappears for days at a time, but begins to grow attached to them (including Murdoc, after a while) and as she does, she begins to regain her memories of her life before she acquired her demonic powers

Misc tidbits:

* 2D became a zombie after being hit by a car and doesn’t remember his life before that. When he was hit by Russel and Noodle, he acquired his second eight ball fracture

* Murdoc was turned into a vampire in 1966 when working as a gravedigger

* Murdoc can turn into a bat

* They all meet around the time of early phase 1 (1998ish) and while they don’t form a band, they do stick together over the course of time (and Noodle does age since she’s not fully a demon).

* Vampires also age but very slowly— drinking monster blood keeps them going but human blood makes them immortal at the cost of becoming completely monsterous. Murdoc has not done so yet but keeps saying he’s going to be immortal some day but for one reason or another has been putting it off

* Russel letting so many spirits reside in his body takes a major toll on him and he eventually is given an exorcism to function again, but in the process loses Del and the rest of his friends

[townofcadence]

Some variable ideas I would love to play with, probably an ever updating list (it started as a horror thread list so the beginning is mostly that lol):

(cw medical abuse, hospitals, probably things like blood, injury, neglect, surgical equipment, etc.) Abandoned Hospital setting, because I think an environment like that could be fun to play in and very atmospheric, and I have some Ideas :3 . I would want the idea to focus more on medical malpractice and doctor neglect, not the patients as 'vengeful ghosts'. Maybe some are angry and frustrated, but they don't mean any harm, they're just unheard and in need of help they never were given when living. I think it'd be fun if some tried to help, too, but might be scared of consequences. Some of the medical staff could be kind, and try to help, but I think a fair few were also the perpetrators of a lot of pain that'd be trapped in the specific setting, and they would be the main catalysts for potential horror in the thread. They also wouldn't take kindly to intruders--- or conversely, some might be very overjoyed to have new patients. The overall goal would be to find a way to get rid of the malicious spirits so they can't cause further harm, but also to free the patients and allow them to move forward.

Similar vein to the last, finding essentially a dossier of patient records in the old effects of a passed away psychiatrist, as well as a box of things that has a spiritual aura. Inside are a collection of tapes; the owner of said tapes had used them to record patient visits, but lost all of their patients in some manner. They blame themselves for the loss, to such a degree they can't let go of them, or their own guilt. So when they pass themselves, they attach to the tapes and to the player itself, and in a way accidentally trap their patients by fixating on them so much, that they manifest a version of each patient, tied to their individual tape. The case would involve playing the tape and dealing with the spirit inside in their own ghostly manifestation world in a sense, trying to help them- they are trapped and a lot of negative emotions, but really they're also just vulnerable people who are scared or hurt. The point would be to help each one, just a little, so they can move on, with the psychiatrist themself tackled last, because they clearly needed help they didn't know how to ask for too. The end result would likely be cleansing the objects by helping the spirits release them, and some horror could come from inside the tapes themselves, where there is a manifestation of the issues and trials the patients faced in a more real form that could be dangerous or do harm. An artistic and visceral interpretation of fears or struggles in a sense. This one is heavily inspired by a game that I've been thinking about a lot, and if you know it, I'm emotionally doing a little dance at you ^x^

cw for injury and blood, but another one I've been thinking about a lot is kind of a revamp of an older one that wasn't finished. It involved a being that is more primeval, who has an interest in Artair specifically due to the kind of magic in his veins. It wants to make him into a snack essentially, because blood can be a great source of nutrition for plants. Bigger than they seem, and able to be at multiple places at once. It could be really fun, especially if someone has a muse with powers they want to play against something stronger. It kind of tried to distract one muse while rounding up artair, so it's a bit split for some of the thread, but it could be fun to recycle the idea. Also, i'm a sucker for both muses coming together in the end to defeat the entity together :D

Anything in a haunted/magic forest really, those are so atmospheric and fun :3

An case involving being trapped in a town and dealing with doppelgangers. I have a LOT of thoughts on this, but essentially something inspired by a comic i read :3

I think it'd be fun to have Artair run into more villainous muses, though that will probably end poorly for him lol. But it could be interesting also because of his immortal nature. It could also end interestingly, especially if you want your villain to meet Something Else that is pretty dangerous and might be able to hurt them back :D

Something where Artair gets possessed. Those ones are always fun :3

Haunted house thread!! this was a plot i had for a long time where there's so many little spirits being trapped by one very large malevolent one, which has consumed enough energy from the little ones to have a large and powerful domain. It has complete control of the house and manipulate it however it wants, and reassemble it. Artair's bleeding energy makes it go aggressive because it's always hungry for more, and the muses have to make it out. Could be fun for both muses to have a part to play in taking down the entity

A plot where as part of the story artair Dies (cw death but temporary), or he is supposed to, but then he just wakes up again, and does something to help that throws off whatever hurt him enough for both muses to overcome it. i think it could be an interesting concept

Something involving being held prisoner and escaping can be fun. It can be a great way to see characters plot together and collaborate for escape, and we can adjust just how successful or difficult that can be. Like an escape room for muses lol

Abyss stuff could be fun, but that area is still in the works and is like. almost au but not? like you become an alternative version of yourself. but sometimes messing with a thread can be a great way to learn more about a setting and come up with more ideas

Moments where artair gets to protect someone else! He takes the blow or jumps in the way or gets between people to keep them safe! it's one of the things that's most important to him, i want to showcase it some more ! Even things where he goes to extremes to protect someone from something dark and there are consequences can be really fun :3

I really love the idea of playing some of my other OCs. I want to do all the things with Artair too of course, but it'd be cool to explore some of the other characters in a mix of genres ! A fair few are built for slice of life, and a few are shenanigan heavy, and some would be great for plots, or learning to cope with past traumas. Some are just because I like food and writing about it lol. and some are very inhuman and it would be cool to see them interact with others. There's a lot of potential and i'd love to flesh out things i haven't had the chance to as well, or get to reveal some tidbits or cool concepts i have in play ^^

Someone teaches artair more magic. He has a lot of potential but no knowledge. A few people have helped him learn a little, but i would love to play with him learning from others and how they perform their own spellwork, so he learns new methods or can improve organically! Similarly, sparring with weapons so he can learn more about fighting-- he's pretty good at fighting unarmed, but he wants to know more

Friendly sparring action threads! sometimes those can be a lot of fun and really great practice for fight scenes :D

Artair cooking for someone!! It brings my love of describing food and a way to be kind and also a way to share something special together. Also anything going to his garden or letting him (or someone like Saffron) talk about their plants and why they have them-- little moments to learn more about each other in a space that's playful or relaxed while doing something fun or kind for one another :3

Honestly i want to know more about other muses of other people! I want Artair (and others!) to build friendships and bonds and have connections and inside jokes and like--- little moments where they bond and learn more of the stories of each other ^^ I'm really excited for that prospect!!!

More to come as they pop into my brain and nestle enough xD

[scarletooyoroi]

Y'know..

The Raiden family really just seem to have an attachment with wood out here.

Looking at this proper with more reflection (as I often do in lore bits.) That age old question of what kind of youkai could the Makoto and Ei be I feel like it's been answered. I don't believe that they are despite being divine beings.

I believe this piece of lore from the Sumeru Wind Glider wound up locking in on the angle that they're beings fashioned divine figures from Irminsul's wood. Not an Irminsul avatar like the overall in Nahida's case, but beings that still came from the same construct. This includes the Wanderer too!

Since this story here tells of a tale about three of the seven archons at the time! Of Venti, Zhongli and Makoto respectively. (Seeing how Ei became a shut in post cataclysm. Not exactly time for any connecting to be made then.)

So I wanna dive deeper in seeing some credence in this aspect. This will be talking about Makoto, Ei and the Wanderer in general. It'll be tacked under the read more since it'll be picture filled.

I want to begin with trying to piece together how this can be. Exactly where would you catch glimpses of this? I'd like to pose Makoto at the forefront first and the bits of history reflected

How it looks like she showed hints of being made from the Irminsul altogether with this ending scene.

Her will penultimately took the form of this very seed that comes to make the Sacred Sakura we see in the modern days. (Through some time hops but I digress.) It's within this we can see that throughout Ei's archon quest, it also holds the similar functions as the Irminsul itself in being part of the grand network of the Ley Lines, even down to that informational extent that we've seen.

Except in the case of the Sacred Sakura, it's not an intel network of all the Teyvat's knowledge and history. What Makoto created was simply a stopgap measure to ensure that filth grated from the fallen in Inazuma wouldn't cause horrific damage. Still, it retained the ability to store the memories within the branches and roots for safekeeping.

HOWEVER! It did succeed in doing a similar act to the Irminsul.

It rewrote the history of Teyvat for everyone but Ei in their minds (She was in chaotic space at the time, so out of the flow); that the Sacred Sakura was an entity that always existed within Inazuma's long running history.

So it captures interest in my viewpoint on how Makoto's death succeeded in creating this. She didn't die within Teyvat, as Ei took her dying consciousness and got it settled within the chaotic space via the torii gate portal, a technique learned courtesy of Yae Miko that opened the grounds to a lot what we see in the story. So there's a natural connection between the Raidens and the wood element itself.

That said! This also helps shed light upon another aspect. Out of the many cases we've seen in Teyvat, death is often final, yet. The Raidens share a unique story with each other, I'd like to introduce this aspect from this excerpt from the 'Treasured Tales' book you can get from Yae's light novel shelves.

This is even further corroborated on by Ei's own accounts of the matter.

From these excerpts, I'd like to take how this becomes part of the origin point for when we excel time to the Post-Cataclysm instance. Where Ei's grief has taken her extremely heavy and led her not only to dark corners, but to hidden bouts of wisdom too. What I believe she discovered in this dark period was the same means Makoto utilized in order to reforge her body once again.

Even if we know that god corpses are usually a very final instance of them being removed from the plane altogether (outside of malicious divine rot.) So let's introduce some pieces of what happened in Ei's process of experimenting with this reforging process.

I believe this very technique that she discovered was from Makoto's own belongings. As we've learned in the Archon quest, there was a lot that Makoto didn't share with Ei, out of both concern, and truly wanting to take her time instilling the life lessons of transience to her. The Cataclysm however had put an abrupt stop to long term plans, and in return, led to what we see today within the said quest.

Inevitably, a lot of what Makoto learned throughout her life outside of combat was passed on to Ei. That even includes the ability to draw around the consciousness of a being and placing them within objects, bodies. It was no coincidence that Yae Miko managed to learn this particular ability over time.

For she was personally attached to Makoto by the hip from the looks of these olden days. Unlike Makoto however, Ei didn't find herself at a point of mastering it as effectively as her sister seemingly did.

And to add further fuel, her experiments were to make a puppet and not a being given a genuine breathe of life, only an robotic being that could execute orders similar to how she viewed Eternity. (She no longer had to worry in her mind by being a spirit without Musou Isshin with meditation in terms of Erosion.) However, within both times we see with the puppet Shogun and the Wanderer, she failed in that pursuit. That spirit of humanity/life still breathes strong within them.

But now! This is where things get a little interesting. Speaking of the Wanderer, we've learned a VERY interesting detail to help tether this all together when it comes the 3.3 Archon Quest involving him.

In many ways, it just add to that irony that the Wanderer went back to his source to rid of himself.

Within Genshin, whenever a white or silver tree is ever talked about from our current knowledge. It only points towards the Irminsul itself.

Drawing onto the discussion about his existence. I believe his lack of knowing where his roots stemmed from outside of Raiden Ei creating him is what led to a lot of his strife. Through the lens of humanity, through the lens of divinity, the Wanderer was on a hunt for heart and in many ways, I believe to just know exactly what he is . The way he talks about humanity and the divine always gave me the impression that he feels alienated from them.. as if by some root deep instinct, he understood that he wasn't neither one of these things one for one.

While holding divine origins and power befitting of his creation, that never stopped the emptiness of never having these answers.

This guides me to the idea that he doesn't know the full details when it comes to the basis of his birth, something that only guidance by Ei could've provided to begin with.

So in the end. I believe it was Makoto's understanding of their roots that led to quite the complicated tale following what transpired in what we witness in Genshin's storyline. Annd that's it!

If you made it down this far, holy fuck you're the GOAT. I just wanted to get this angle out of my mind after reading up on this.

[slasherscream]

I just got an idea, could you do a Crazy Ass Boys Gang reaction to finding out that the reader is a model.

crazy ass boys gang + reader is a model

billy loomis: He's so naturally possessive that his brain broke when he found out. It'll be worse if he found out from someone else and not you. He knows you're beautiful/handsome enough to be a model. He's just not crazy about you being plastered on magazine covers and billboards. You're his, not the world's. Still, he knows what fame tastes like (even though in his case it's more like infamy) and he'd never ask you to stop for him. He'll just pout if you do anything risqué. He likes to go to shoots with you so he can stand around and be your scary guard dog.

josh washington: Is completely fine with it. Knows that it doesn't change your relationship at all, so why should he care? Besides, now you have something new in common. You're both going to wind up in the entertainment industry (him as a director and you as a model)! If you weren't an Instagram model before, you could be one now with how many pictures he takes of you throughout the day. He just thinks you're so photogenic babe!

stu macher: Pervert. Immediately his brain goes to the raunchy and vulgar. Asks if you’ve done any nude photo shoots before. Give him a snarky reply like, "Yeah and all your buddies saw it." and watch how he is suddenly not so gung-ho about the concept. Now that you've opened his mind to the fact that other people are seeing you in various states of being sexy and desirable, he also goes to every single photo shoot. He hypes you up during them at least (by which I mean he is a distracting nuisance).

jd/jason dean: Does not like it, but you love it, so he tolerates it. He goes to all your shoots as well. He wanders around studios like a malicious shadow entity, daring anyone to admire you for too long. He also tags along to business events or parties. One day someone is going to like his intense dark look and want to take pictures of him. He'll only agree if you're part of the shoot as well, that way there's an industry trail of you being an item. It helps to soothe his territorial nature.

kevin khatchadourian: At first, he finds you typical just because of your good looks. Whether you’re entirely conventionally attractive or uniquely so you’re an irritant either way. Once he learns there’s more to you than meets the eye, he becomes possessive over your personhood. You’re not sure if Kevin loves you, but you know he wants to own you. You being a model, a public figure whose job is to be available for consumption, leaves him repulsed on his best day. He hates the way he has to hover over you in your day-to-day life. It erases any ambiguity about the way he feels for you. It’s hard to act superior and apathetic when you’re playing someone’s shadow, quietly seething as you hang on their arm and dare someone to try and charm them away.

nathan prescott: You're his muse, plain and simple. You met because the photography and modeling classes you were both part of collaborated on doing an assignment together, so he knew you were a model from the start. The pictures he takes of you are markedly not his usual style. There's still a darkness to them, but it's clear that whoever is behind the lens is fond of the person on the other end. He is surprisingly neutral and not jealous about you being a model. It’s the artist in him.

sebastian valmont: Has dated a sickening number of models before you so this is nothing new to him. He knows the ins and outs of the industry. If you need help advancing your career, he’s exactly who you need to be attached to. With his inheritance he’ll never have to work a day in his life if he doesn’t want to. Still, he’s too easily bored to do nothing. While he’s waiting to inherent his father’s many businesses, he’ll spend his days working as your manager. No one could take better care of you than him, after all.

david mccall: Pretends he’s okay with it but is not okay with it. He plays the role of supportive boyfriend like a professional though. You’d never know how he feels unless he gets fed up and drops the act. He comes to every shoot with you, every party, dinner, or lunch. You’re never left on your own. He can’t trust any of the sleazeballs in this industry. You’re so innocent. You’re not like any of these other people. You need to be protected. He’s basically your bodyguard and is very involved in your career. He puts his foot down and doesn’t let you do any naked or sultry partner shoots. It’s his one rule. Don’t ignore it.

like my writing? support me through my cashapp or kofi! both are slasherscream.

[mako-neexu]

It was like that time all over again.

With the same feelings of extreme fear and burning determination, the same divide between her and this Foreign God, the same way Mash stood proudly beside her, the same way how it was the two of them against an entity that could wipe them out in seconds, the same way someone she cared about might—

No.

He wasn’t there anymore. With his sacrifice, he had given her a solid pathway to walk on. So that she could keep moving forward even as more countless shackles attached themselves to her.

That’s the only difference.

This time, she will keep the things she cherishes alive until all of this is over.

Nonetheless, the scenario was nearly the same that she could almost cry.

Almost.

Her gloved fist clenched tighter around the new mystic code she was given. It certainly reminded her of her old Chaldea uniform but it wasn’t the same.

(Yes, nothing was ever the same since that day.)

Ritsuka breathed out, and focused on helping Mash dodge the barrage of attacks from the Foreign God. The beams looked to be able to disintegrate the very matter it landed on.

‘Shit. Not even with the countless divine blessings from the Servants was it enough to make Ortinax impenetrable against the Foreign God’s attack.’

Ritsuka cast a healing spell and Invincibility on Mash, stalling them for a good measure until the god’s attacks ceased.

In the next second, her eyes widened as the Foreign God shifted and the atmosphere suddenly increased—

“SENPAI!”

—causing them both to crash violently against the pristine pillars of this god’s abode. But Mash was a second too late and can only hold Ritsuka as she struggles to stand with numerous injuries on her being.

The Master weakly glared at the Foreign God, before groaning, “Help… m-me up, Mash.”

Her Demi-Servant was shaking, either in her self-blame or anger at the god she couldn’t discern, but could only nod and help her as gently as she could.

It was just sheer will that Ritsuka was able to stand on her own. Even without closely inspecting it, it looked like a breeze might topple the girl off like a house of cards.

They have to summon a Servant.

At this point, literally anyone could help. They have to drag this fight so she could give the rest of Chaldea the chance to prepare the weapon.

“Mash,” Her voice was hoarse but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Cover me.”

Those were the only words she’d said and yet her kouhai nodded determinedly without hesitation.

With Mash protecting her, Ritsuka hastily projected a summoning circle and began to chant.

(My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed the Grail’s call, and abide by this will and reason, then answer me.)

The demi-servant charges through the army of soldiers. Each designed to kill a Servant with one move.

(I hereby swear. I embody all that is good in the world.)

Mash heaves her shield up and slams it on the ground to create a shockwave that has the mindless enemies stumbling to the ground.

(I shall defeat all that is evil in this world.)

She pants as she kicks one, two, five enemies away from her Master. The glow on the summoning circle was getting brighter.

(From the Seventh Heaven, attend to by three great words of power,)

The demi servant senses another shift to the air again. There is an echo of a shriek, a curse, rippling through the air. It chilled her to the bone but she won’t let her guard down.

She has to protect her Master until the end.

(Come forth from the ring of binding,)

Toolate,toolate,toolate, it hisses in her ears. It whispers maliciously like sweet venom in the air. Orbs began to circle around the ritual, and all the Master could do was chant and pour her entire soul in the summon.

Mash Kyrielight senses an extreme spike of wrongness in the atmosphere.

She screams her Master — her Senpai’s name.

Blinding flash of white encompasses her vision and she hears her Master scream in pain.

In pure agonizing pain.

The demi-servant stops breathing.

There is silence.

In the midst of debris and dust clouds, there is a figure.

She sees large bloodstains on her Master’s mystic code but Ritsuka is slumped against something—

Or rather, someone.

She could hear the red-haired girl’s labored breathing, and both the figure and her stand up.

Ritsuka grits her teeth from the pain and while one of her eyes were bleeding, the other one was looking at the God with determination and fearlessness.

Mash’s surroundings finally clear up and here, here, she could feel her entire body get stunned with shock.

Impossible.

Impossible.

Impossible. It couldn’t be—!!!

“Caster Class.” The man with a familiar voice holds Ritsuka gently, as if greeting an old friend.

Mash runs towards them.

Every fiber of her being hurts. It begs her to stop. She can’t stop. She can’t, she can’t.

“Solomon.”

The Last Master of Chaldea raises her hand in the air, “By my Command Spell,”

The ground itself quakes, the space in which they were in begins to rupture and open like a wound, and at the center of it all, the Foreign God begins to take a more human-like shape. Everything was unstable. Everything is beginning to fall apart.

With a shout, the last allies of Proper Human History charges towards the being who began it all.

“We will end this!”

[mint-yooxgi]

Here's a Lovecraftian NCT request. Translator!OC is part of a team called to a desert site by leading archaeologist Taeil. He and his team have uncovered a massive complex covered in strange runes. OC's team is needed to help translate the runes. Taeil and his peers believe it's a palace belonging to a king named Yangyang. OC discovers it wasn't a palace. It was a prison and Yangyang wasn't a king. He was something far more terrible. (Apologies for the length.)

"No! Don't read that!" The words escape you too late as you feel the earth tremble beneath your feet.

"What? What's going on?" Taeil's voice is frantic as he looks around at the shaking chamber surrounding you all, dust and dirt falling to the ground.

The sound of maniacal laughter rings through your ears: a deep, malicious sound that sends a shiver racing down your spine.

"What was that?" Yuki's shrill voice can be heard over the commotion, the panic clear on her face as she clings onto Mingyu for dear life.

"We need to leave," your worried voice cuts through the noise, "now!"

Moving as quickly as you can, you all head towards the exit of the chamber. Both Mingyu and Yuki manage to climb out just in time for the archway to collapse, leaving both you and Taeil stranded inside.

All the light inside goes out, surrounding you in darkness as the dust settles around you. Both Taeil and you cough, reaching for your flashlights attached to your belts.

"This is not good," you mumble, hitting the side of your torch a few times as the beam flickers weakly before disappearing completely.

"What's going on?" Taeil frowns, his flashlight serving as the only source of light in the place now as a few tremors linger, shaking the walls slightly.

"Well, Dr. Moon, you were right about one thing," you sigh, using what little light you have left to search for a way out. "This certainly is no ordinary temple."

"What do you mean?"

"This 'palace' you found wasn't a palace at all," you turn to meet his gaze. "It was a tomb, meant to encase an entity 'worse than worse,' inside."

"Entity?" He looks taken aback. "Surely you don't believe in such things."

"I believe in not tampering with that which we cannot comprehend," you reply, and you swear you hear the chamber hum at your words. "Also, circumstances suggest otherwise."

Taeil purses his lips, finding no rebuttal to your statement at the moment. "Then, what, exactly did we just do?"

"Well, how familiar are you with The Mummy?" You ask.

"You mean that movie with Brendan Fraser?" He frowns.

"The one and only," you confirm. "Except worse"

"Worse than a fictional being?"

"You familiar with Jujutsu Kaisen?"

"Now is not the time for another one of your pop culture quizzes," Taeil chastises.

"Remind me to fill you in on Sukuna later," you comment, seeing if you can shift a few of the lighter pieces of rubble to create a big enough opening for the both of you to climb out of. You figure you only have minutes until whatever was being bound here finally comes out to play.

Unfortunately for you, with your bickering, you fail to set your footing properly, and you end up slipping on some unstable rubble. Luckily though, Taeil is there to steady you.

"Woah, are you oka-"

"Get your filthy hands off of them,"

At the sound of the deep, ancient voice that fills the chamber, you both jump, causing Taeil to falter, making the both of you tumble to the ground. Except, you do not feel the impact. Instead, a warmth surrounds you, the feeling of two arms firmly holding you against a chest surrounds your being.

With wide eyes, you look up, meeting the gaze of the entity the ruins warned you about.

"Hello love," Yangyang grins down at you almost lovingly, a rumble resounding from his chest. "Did you miss me?"

[crylockchaos]

No, Tellexx; I Will Not Simply Follow Along: Part One of a Reading of Razzmatazz’s Story

Razzmatazz stands out for many reasons.  Since the band takes the “concept album” to a new level by creating a “concept band” through lore Razzmatazz stands out, in my opinion, because of the compromised role between writers and readers. There are many ways to look and interpret the story behind the songs, if readers choose to see the songs as telling a story.  I’m going to share my own interpretation.  This “reading” is influenced by “The Death of the Author” by Roland Barthes, and “Interpreting the Variorum” by Stanley Fish.  I find that the album critiques ideas of Marxist theory and mocks the industry that fuels modern music as seen by the nods to Theodor Adorno, Max Horkheimer, and Walter Benjamin; but relies on the reader to create the story more than the use of satire.  The album cannot work because the text “disappears” (Fish 485) without reader interaction.  Weekes and Seaman cannot fully control how readers “read” their work, which I think is something they encourage through the ambiguous nature of the text. Through reoccurring symbols in the songs and videos the story unfolds in subtle ways, encouraging the listeners to not simply follow along, but to engage with the lore to understand what is happening to the narrator.  I will go through, in order of each piece, enabling the “birth of the reader” (Barthes 521) to tell the story in the way I interpret it.

The story begins with “Leave Me Alone”.  The characters, Dallon and Ryan enter the corporation in 2020 based on the use of masks and safety precautions taken for the real events taking place.  The “volunteer pairing” (“Indoctrination” iDKHOW) takes their first step in working for the corporation Tellexx.  Ryan is clear in his resistance towards the means and ideas of the company, hence why he is wearing a mask more often.  To prevent rebellion, Tellexx separates Ryan from Dallon using isolation boxes and masks him to force him into compliance.  They do this with Dallon too, but to a lesser extent because if Tellexx wishes to spread its influence Dallon needs to use his voice.  Ryan’s rebellion is stifled easier because of his role as percussion by wearing a mask, but that does not mean he is powerless.  He strongly opposes Tellexx’s ideas to the point where the company views him as a threat, so they attempt to stop him from communicating through isolation and forced muting with a mask.  But it doesn’t stop him.  His lack of face expressions and movement within each video show his rebellion.  What at first comes off as unusual and perhaps humorous allows Ryan to hold the role of a Byronic Hero.  His rebellion comes through his intelligence and outward appearance.  Instead of parading around playing a role, Ryan goes against Tellexx’s wishes and simply does not do anything.  Tellexx views him as a direct threat and minimizes his role strictly to percussion, but that does not stop him, which I will return to later.

Dallon is much more subtle with his pressure, but the Tellex workers suspect rebellion based on lines such as “the devil that you know is better than the devil that you don’t” (Weekes 2020) or “mad as a hatter with a dagger and a dollar sign” (Weekes 2020), where Dallon exposes the knowledge that Tellexx will dispose of them if they no longer create profit.  As I have mentioned in the past, there are two voices within Dallon; which makes this song the origin of the split between the Warner (the side working against Tellexx) and the Threatener (the side working for Tellexx).  The Warner’s voice in “Leave Me Alone” is Dallon’s rebellion through his knowledge of the sinister means.  Both Dallon and Ryan do not trust Tellexx’s values and know that the corporation wishes to spread its influence in music through time and space for more capital in the created industry.  Yet there’s a split created by Tellexx during the experimentation in the video.  Dallon changes from animated and active while singing to still and threatening when he says “go fly a kit until you’re tangled in the hang tree” (Weekes 2020).  This change is the initial incident that sparks the main conflict in this reading: man versus self- Warner versus Threatener, Dallon’s good versus Dallon’s bad. Tellexx controls a part of Dallon, allowing him to freely sing and move around without being attached to anything. “Leave Me Alone” in the story proves to Tellexx that the pairing is suitable under these conditions, and they are sent into time, meanwhile Dallon’s internal conflict grows.  

“Indoctrination” is a flashback.  This piece serves the purpose to enlighten the audience of Tellexx’s means and plan, while also revealing exactly what Dallon and Ryan are resisting.  Calling the section indoctrination reveals the malicious side of Tellexx as we hear the literal brainwashing the corporation uses on the “volunteer pairing” (iDKHOW 2020).  This aspect of the piece gives listeners insight to what Dallon and Ryan have faced regarding thought reform and Tellexx’s corporate agenda.  This part of the text reveals the side of Tellexx that listeners are suspicious of, confirming it as the antagonist against I Dont [sic.] Know How But They Found Me.  By having the piece say that the pairing and Tellex will “work together to decode and / exploit the secrets of time and space for our benefit” (iDKHOW), it uses negative connotation to create rebellion through the verb “exploit”. Listeners side with Warner Dallon and Silent Ryan because we understand that Tellexx seeks the secrets of time for selfish matters: to spread their influence and create an industry that they control.  It works alongside “Leave Me Alone” to initiate the two major conflicts: the internal conflict within Dallon, and the band versus the corporation.  Through this, White Shadow character and the Threatener have clear origins.  Both were created to “be sure that the company’s interests maintain the highest priority” (iDKHOW).  This includes the White Shadow following Dallon and Ryan to prevent rebellion and acting in a way that places pressure against Mechanical Reproduction and the industry, and the Threatener acting as a character of Thought Reform within Dallon who is trying to eliminate the Warner’s awareness.  This allows White Shadow to serve as a metaphorical reminder of failures of the past and would allow the Threatener to coax Dallon into serving Tellexx’s needs.  Since Threatener is made by Tellexx, this side of Dallon uses an underlying fear to control Dallon and force him to continue working for the corporation.

Warner can see Tellexx’s malevolent goals.  This side of Dallon, the narrator, uses his voice to create awareness of his opposition and to alert listeners, making “Mad IQs” an internal monologue.  The song is Warner’s rebellion since Dallon is free to sing without a mask on, using voice to reveal the malicious intent behind the corporation’s goal to exploit time and space for capital.  This aspect of the narrator exposes Tellexx as a toxic corporation that is taking over Dallon’s mind and being, hinting that this side of him is aware of Threatener’s presence.  Through themes of controlling entity and voluntary ignorance, Warner is admitting that Dallon is losing himself inside the corporation by working for them.  The brainwashing from the memories associated with “Indoctrination” has allowed Dallon to become the “voluntary victim” (Weekes 2020) and give up his sense of right and wrong, and his own identity, making him view himself as a being of Tellexx.  The song alerts listeners that voluntary ignorance has led Dallon into a trap, one that he cannot escape.  Warner attempts to alert listeners of the situation, hinting at ideas of Mechanical Reproduction with “replace you with machines” (Weekes 2020) and “paralyzed by the sum of your parts” (Weekes 2020) to hint that Dallon’s entity is controlled, making both Warner and Threatener’s voices compromised and unreliable; which would explain why Dallon is constantly moving around and is energetic during the video performances, because Threatener is telling him to do so for the benefit of the corporation.

This would explain Dallon’s disappointment at the end of “Nobody Likes the Opening Band”.  This piece is the band’s first attempt at spreading influence and it’s a failure.  The piece acknowledges how the band is only starting in the industry.  By saying “chances are they won’t go far / career is sure to end” (Weekes 2020) the piece reveals that the industry discourages artists with different thoughts.  Tellexx scorns those who go against their ideas, and make sure that industry develops in a way that benefits only one way of thinking, making Warner appear in the wrong as he tries to assist Dallon in making original music.  White Shadow’s disapproval at the end of the video reveals that Dallon has failed to act and perform in a way that benefits the company, pushing his fear into reality.  This enables Threatener to take control and hide Warner, further placing Dallon’s entity in the hands of the corporation and forcing him to lose himself just to be successful.  This fear and idea of failure pushes Dallon to go to 1964 to begin spreading the band’s influence in “Do It All the Time” and then “Social Climb” in 1977, in which both are successful in spreading Tellexx’s ideas and values.  However, this song’s video does more than highlight Dallon’s fall; it also reveals more of Ryan’s rebellion.  By stepping away from the stage to scorn Dallon, Ryan further separates himself from Tellexx.  His actions and moody facial expressions highlight his silent rebellion, one that Tellexx cannot fully control.  If he’s not doing anything technically wrong, they cannot punish him despite their indoctrination strategies.  He is watching what Tellexx is doing to Dallon and resists their attempts to control him by staying silent and using minimal actions.  Doing this gives Ryan power over his entity and self, revealing to readers that his actions are reliable.  

Ryan uses his autonomy in “New Invention” to drag Dallon out of Tellexx’s control and diminishes the grasp Threatener has on him.  He takes Dallon to where Tellexx first created the split to return his entity to him.  The video and song start off with the idea of a devil on the shoulder, which implies The Warner’s awareness of his own instability. He knows that Tellexx is still controlling him to a degree, and how this had created a split.  The Warner knows that The Threatener is attacking him and is desperate to make listeners aware of what happened after “Leave Me Alone”. “You’ve got the devil on your shoulder” (Weekes 2020) implies the light/dark contrast that reoccurs in the other songs. The following line is directly from The Threatener because of the sudden shift: “you better shut your mouth just like I told ya” [sic.] (Weekes 2020).  The Threatener uses it as a threat, implying that unless The Warner is quiet, he will intervene and take full control. The overlapping vocals at the end of this song would show the full conflict between the two sides.  The Warner is having “bad dreams” (Weekes 2020) and can’t get away from the Threatener, even when asleep; meanwhile the Threatener is saying that Dallon is an invention created by Tellexx.  Ryan’s attempt to restore Dallon’s mindset highlights the unreliable nature of Dallon’s character because of the indoctrination and experimentation from the past.  With his identity compromised, Ryan knows that he is the only person who can push the conflict and create resistance.  He resets Dallon not only to return his autonomy and identity, but also to give listeners a reliable narrator since he is still limited by Tellexx.  Ryan cannot use his voice, but his actions speak for him throughout the video and song.  Through Ryan’s actions, Tellexx’s control over Dallon is minimalized, yet the Warner and Threatener are still in conflict.

 I’ll continue this as I can.  School is about to restart for me.

[fixxofvixx]

POSSESSION - TAEKWOON AU - CHAPTER 13

Hello!!! I hope everyone is doing well! I had a lovely birthday, made possible by lovely messages from you. We've had a bit of snow here and there but the weather hasn't been too bad. I hope everyone is safe and healthy.

Let me know what you think of the chapter!!💖

🏰🏰🏰🏰🏰🏰

You slammed into the corner of your room just as the vine released it's grip.  You expected the fire to burn you right away but instead it was as if you were on the other side of the fire in your room.  You could see Leo and Ravi still battling the flames while trying to search for you.  

You screamed their names but gave no indication that they could hear you.

"Pick one."  You heard a voice next to you, the same one from the hallway.  You turned but, as before, there was no one there.

"What?"

"Pick one.  I will let one live and the other will die."  A cold chill of panic ran down your back.  It was quickly replaced by anger.

"Why do I need to do that?"

"If not, then you can pick yourself."

You almost did.  But a sudden flash of fire brought your attention back to Leo.  You remembered his sister and what he'd said about bait and sacrifice.  Clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath, you answered.

"No."

"No?  What do you mean, 'no'?  Do you realize what I could do to them….or you?  You could end all of their fighting by simply agreeing."

"Yes, they are fighting…..for me.  For the life of me, I can't understand why they would do that but I'll be damned if I'll make them fight in vain."  The more you saw Leo and Ravi fighting, the angrier you became.

"You're a fool."

"That may be…..but I still won't give you the answer you want."  You were still but your body trembled with fear.  You knew in a split second, this entity could end you.  

Suddenly, the voice shrieked and you covered your ears.  A second later, the vines and fire disappeared.  You fell to the floor with a thud.  

"Y/N!"  Leo and Ravi both called your name but you could barely hear over the ringing in your ears left by the shriek.

Leo reached you first and inspected for any visible injuries before pulling you up to a sitting position, tears pooling in your eyes.  You started to speak but Leo raised his hand to your head, touching your temple lightly.

"Sleep."  

You slumped in his arms instantly.  He picked you up easily and carried you towards your bed.  He started to place you on it but hesitated.  After a moment, he turned and headed towards his room with you in tow.

"Leo?  What are you doing?"  Ravi followed behind him, pulling the door closed.

"She's not staying in there until we figure out who or what that was."

"I agree but why did you put her to sleep?"

"I want her to rest.  She's had too much shock to her system in such a short time.  If we're not careful, her mind could shut down."  Leo placed you back on his bed and pulled the cover around your shoulders.  He knew he'd put you deep enough in sleep where you wouldn't dream but now he worried about the waking nightmares you might have. 

"Leo…."

"Come on, we need to grab the others.  I want whatever this thing is, gone."

"It might not be that easy."  Ravi spoke quietly, knowing his words would anger his older brother.  Leo spun around and advanced on Ravi.

"Why the hell not?"  Leo was naturally intimidating but when he got protective, he was not to be trifled with.

"Whatever….or whoever that was, is attached to this house somehow.  It would take more than a simple exorcism to get rid of it."

"Then we'll burn the damn house down."  Leo turned and walked towards the training room.  Ravi didn't argue, it would have been useless.  Hakyeon would have to be the one to calm him down….or Ken.

-------------------

"Leo…..we can't burn the house down."  Hakyeon rubbed his fingers over his temples hoping to ease the tension in his head.

"Why not?"

"For one…..we live here."

"So we'll live somewhere else.  Ravi said this thing was attached to the house so the solution is to get rid of the house."

"Do you not remember how long it took us to place all the wards and enchantments in this place?  Not to mention how long this property has been in our family."

"Your family, Hakyeon…..I'm the illegitimate bastard, remember?" 

"Leo...you know damn well no one has ever thought of you like that."

"Some did."

"Y/N wouldn't."  Leo looked at Hakyeon and opened his mouth but closed it.  Hakyeon was right, he couldn't argue with that.

"We need to figure out what is in that room."

"Did…..did she ever mention anything?"  Hakyeon didn't want to ask but he needed to.

"No….my sister loved that room.  She wouldn't have if something malicious was inside."  Hakyeon nodded, ending that part of the conversation there.

"Well I suppose you'll have to give up your room again until we can figure it out."

"She can have it.  I'll find another room."

"You know she won't agree to that.  You might as well suggest you move into the room together."

"If I thought she would agree, I would."

"Baby steps, Casanova, she'll warm up to you.  She already trusts you more and turns to you for protection."  Leo cleared his throat, uneasy with the direction the conversation was going.

"How are we going to clear that room?"

"We might have to wait until Hongbin feels up to it.  He's the only one with the ability to switch realms."

"Let me know when he's awake.  I don't want to leave y/n alone for too long."

"I'm sure you don't."  Leo heard the playful sarcasm in Hakyeon's voice and responded by sending a fireball to his older brother.  He smirked as he heard Hakyeon's short yelp as he walked down the hallway.

[dragonageloree]

Spirit

A spirit is a natural inhabitant of the Fade.

Nature of spirits

Chantry beliefs

According to the Chantry, the spirits of the Fade are the first children of the Maker. He turned his back on them because they lacked a soul – they could twist the Fade to their liking, but lacked the ability to imagine and create, and thus emulate their creator. The Maker created a new realm, separated from the Fade by the Veil, and this realm would be one that his new children could not alter at will. These new children had the spark of the divine within them, and the Maker was pleased. Supposedly, ever since the Maker created His new children, the spirits from the Fade have watched humanity with curiosity and, in the case of the more malicious spirits, envy and desire.

The malicious ones among the Maker's first children were jealous. They called out to the mortals, drawing their sleeping minds across the Veil and saw the land that the Maker had created for them in their dreams. They coveted the spark within them, but did not understand it. They shape the Fade to create the land that they see in the minds of men, and seek to draw the spark from them without truly understanding where it might actually come from.

Description

All the denizens of the realm beyond the Veil are spirits. Their very bodies are formed from the ether.[1] Spirits are not physical entities and are therefore not restricted to recognizable forms (or even having a form at all), one can never tell for certain what is alive and what is merely part of the scenery. (It is therefore advisable for the inexperienced researcher to greet all objects he encounters.)[2] They are intelligent creatures capable of speech.

It is said that spirits lack imagination and creativity; everything they make is based off something made by mortals. Whether benevolent or malevolent, most spirits cannot help but mine a Fade visitor's mind for their thoughts and memories. They then mimic the pieces of life they see by shaping the Fade[3] into various realms that cater to the unconscious desires of the living, providing experiences to the sleeping that become their "dreams." Because of this lack of creativity, and the fact that spirits don't really understand the things they create, their creations tend to feel wrong to observers from the mortal world: One man describes it as translating a passage into a different language, then getting drunk and trying to translate it back.[1] Spirits range in power from those who rule the dream realms to minor spirits that have little influence over the ether.[4]

Fandom may earn an affiliate commission on sales made from links on this page.

A spirit cannot comprehend a world that is static and immutable and is not familiar with the concept of time. It cannot comprehend what it means to be within a body of flesh yet for some unknown reason, some spirits crave to join the living. Some spirits cross the Veil because they desire to experience life[5], either to indulge in an aspect of psyche or to fulfill a purpose they embody. Usually spirits or demons can only cross over the Fade by attaching themselves to something in the mortal world. This is known as possession. Some spirits, however, may be drawn to the mortal world and made manifest against their will. They will be driven mad by shock or even be made terrified by the waking world, resulting in them becoming unintentionally violent or turned into demons once they have crossed the Veil. Spirits deliberately crossing the Veil without coercion had to develop the will and personality to do so, allowing them to maintain their form and nature. In areas where the Veil is thin, spirits engrossed by a particular event may endeavor to preserve the "feeling" of the area by preserving some or all of the area itself. This close presence of spirits scare away the vermin and plants that would erode such an area.[6]

Spirits are not complex in the sense that they seize upon a single facet of human experience, and this one idea becomes their identity.[2] They are formed as a reflection of the real world and its passions.[7] A spirit embodies and latches onto a specific purpose and will do all in its power to fulfill that purpose. For instance, a hunger demon will attempt to feed on anything it crosses,[3] and a spirit of justice will stop at nothing to uphold its name. Spirits however, don't remember much − a side effect of their ability to make themselves forget or "wash clean" unsettling facts which they cannot reconcile with their nature. While this routine keeps them pure, it also keeps them from learning, from growing. So all their acts to uphold their idea are mostly done in the simplest ways. Nevertheless, it is not unheard of for spirits to evolve and become more "human" by coming to terms with grief and thus be able to learn from what they endured. By coming to terms with grief, a spirit is able to grow as a person and not "wash clean" like a spirit.

Relevance is paramount to a spirit. Spirits whose realms are flocked with visitors rise to rule great portions of the Fade, while memories and concepts forgotten in the real world slowly drift away back into the ether, the spirits who ruled them losing all potency.[8] A spirit won't even recall the feeling it embodies once the latter was forgotten in the waking world.[9] As Rhys puts it in a dialogue with Cole, "being important makes you real".[10]

When a spirit dies its energy returns to the Fade. If the idea giving the spirit form is strong, or if its memory has shaped other spirits, something similar may reform one day, but it might have a different personality with no memory of the past.

Abilities

Since spirits are beings of pure magic, they have supernatural abilities both inside and outside the Fade. In the Fade, they can take the guise of people from the dreamer's memory. Those who have the will to cross over to the physical realm and not rely on possession could also assume a form of their choosing − most likely it will choose a form that will aid them in fulfilling its purpose. Spirits have the ability to read other people's emotions and thoughts. These abilities draws them to certain people who need their help. Since spirits originate from a realm with a physicality derived from emotion, memory, and magic; so too do spirits have supernatural abilities to adapt in such a realm. For example, spirits have an innate expertise in certain fields such as combat or magic. Some spirits also have the ability to make people forget about them and not be noticed. So long as the spirit remembers the Fade, spirits are able to retain some of their supernatural abilities even when they are in the world of Thedas.

Types

Benevolent spirits

Tier progression of a Spirit of Hope in Heroes of Dragon Age

Spirits embodying virtues may be considered benevolent (or at least not malevolent). Such spirits characteristically do not wish to cross the Veil. They consider the waking world a "dismal place" and pity mortals who are trapped there, beyond their reach and beyond help.[11] They may comfort visitors of the Fade by dreams that strengthen the soul, or visions that promote epiphanies.[12]

There are five widely known types of benevolent spirits: Compassion, Valor, Justice, Faith and Hope.[13], which range in power from the relatively weak spirits of compassion to the strongest spirits of faith and hope.[14]Spirit healers maintain close relationships with spirits of compassion.[15] Spirits of Hope rarely appear in the waking world since little there attracts them.[14] Two more rarely encountered types of spirits are Wisdom and Purpose.[16]

Demons

“Spirits wish to join the living, and a demon is that wish gone wrong.” ―Solas[17]

Demon is one name for the malevolent spirits from the Fade that embody negative emotions like rage or fear.[18] Demons envy the living, desire life and lust to cross the Veil. In the Fade, they draw sustenance from memories of the dreaming.[11] Often destructive, they can abuse the minds of dreaming mortals, possess living or dead creatures (generally preferring living mages – see abomination), or even animate rubble or suits of armor.

According to Solas, a more accurate distinction is "aggressive" and "non-aggressive" spirits. The classification of "malevolent" versus "benevolent" oversimplifies or overlooks the role that the mortal has to play in the spirit's demeanor. Depending on whom the spirit encounters, Wisdom and Purpose can be easily twisted into manifestations of Pride and Desire, but if the mortal is free of corrupting influences, the spirits will be very friendly.[16][19]

There are numerous ways for a spirit to become a demon:

The spirit can already embody something mortals would perceive as a vice or an ambiguous concept.  (Ex: Torpor, Choice)

The spirit can reflect or imitate human perversions of a virtue, or possess a mortal with distorted values.  (Ex: Allure, Vengeance)

The spirit can oversimplify the application or fulfillment of its virtue.  (Ex: Compassion)

The spirit gains ego, ambition, longing, or a thirst for power.  (Ex: Nightmare)

The spirit can be driven insane by outside forces, particularly manifesting into the real world prematurely or against its will.  (Ex: Rift demons)

The spirit can be denied its original purpose, particularly through blood magic binding (Ex: Wisdom).

These are by no means the only methods that a spirit can transform into a demon, but are the methods which are confirmed or demonstrated within canon.

Imshael, one of the Forbidden Ones, insists on being called a "spirit of choice" and does seem to feed off mortals making difficult choices.

Michel de Chevin identifies Imshael as a strong desire demon.

Wisps and wraiths

Not all spirits represent a distinct virtue or vice. The weakest spirits, wisps, are shimmering orbs of light too simple and impressionable to be good or evil.[4][15][20] In some cases they appear to be benign, aiding mages who summon them in the mortal realm (by distracting foes[15] or boosting spellpower) or in the Fade (as guides).[20] The Mortalitasi of Nevarra draw wisps rather than intelligent spirits across the Veil.[21]Wisp wraiths, however, are known to attack anything in sight, and wraiths are scavengers of beings feeding on scraps of thought and unable to shape the Fade.[22]

Ghosts

Some spirits retain memories and personalities of those long gone. They substantiate the popular belief in ghosts who became lost on their way to the Maker's side, even as it is against the Chantry teachings.[23][24] Known examples include Katriel, Claudio Valisti, Cole, Telana and Justinia V among the others.

Spirits in other cultures

Dalish mages do not use any magic involving spirits, as they believe all spirits are dangerous.[25] In party banter with Anders, Merrill states that the Dalish believe "there's no such thing as a good spirit". Spirits cannot be broken down into clear-cut categories and differ from each other, just as people do. Furthermore, according to Felassan the Dalish do not think of demons as evil, but as wild animals, dangerous if treated carelessly.[26]

Conversely, the Avvar revere the spirits as "gods" and interact with them much more than the rest of cultures of Thedas, though only each hold's Augur has a direct link with the spirits. Avvar and spirits communicate regularly, through their Augurs, altars, offerings, and sometimes even direct contact. Spirits usually tend to assist Avvar in many tasks, such as providing counsel, assisting in battle, protecting holds from threats and dangerous people, and even helping train mages via voluntary, but temporary, possession.[27]

Though this is not considered common[28], spirits may also respond to calls and offerings from non-mage Avvar.[29] Likewise, many will become attracted to the clan's warriors during ritual combat and will provide them aid during combat, quicker reflexes, etc., not unlike Spirit Warriors or even the spirit friends of the clan's mages.[30]

Likewise in Rivain, local hedge witches called seers converse with spirits and even allow themselves to be possessed for the sake of their villages.[31]

In the Tevinter Imperium, mages bind spirits and use them as servants.[32]

Nevarrans have a unique relationship with magic and death. They believe that when a dead soul crosses the Fade it displaces a Fade spirit. In order to provide safe hosts for such spirits, they mummify the corpses of their dead and place them in elaborate crypts in the Grand Necropolis for the spirits to possess. The Mortalitasi guide the spirits into possessing the corpses and handle these necromancy rituals. The Mortalitasi however, draw wisps rather than intelligent spirits across the Veil in order to possess their corpses.

Notable benevolent spirits

A Spirit of Wisdom

Spirit of Wisdom

Spirit of Faith

Spirit of Command

Spirit of Justice

Spirit of Valor

Cole, a Spirit of Compassion

Archivist, a Spirit of Knowledge

Trivia

Contrary to popular belief, David Gaider never said that spirits and demons are fundamentally different.[33]

In Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Justice claimed that his lyrium ring, a gift from the Warden-Commander, has a beautiful song which he wishes his spirit brethren were able to hear. Justice's unique ability to equip the ring also implies that spirits are resistant to lyrium's toxic effects.

[fictionalbadass]

Chaotic City

Chapter I

Warnings: swearing (maybe in future), killing, blood, drug use, mention of drug deals, alcohol abuse, NSFW content in future (maybe?)

A/n: I hope everyone loves this, it's my first time publishing on tumblr.

The sounds of whimpers filled Valencia's ears as she twirled a dagger in her hands and examined the man tied up in the chair.

She trailed the blade of the dagger on the skin of the man's hand when she was behind him, she placed the dagger on his throat and pulled his hair roughly, pulling his head upwards.

"Why do you think that betraying me was the best thing you can ever do in your life?" Valencia said, sickenly sweetly as her dagger bite into the man's skin, making the man cry out.

"I- I didn't mean to! I g-got a better deal!" The man exclaimed hastily, wanting to Valencia to stop hurting him.

"Hmm... better deal huh?" Valencia spoke up as she withdrew her dagger and started to twirl it again in her hands and walk around him until she was facing him.

"Tell me, how much did Giovani offered you?" Valencia demanded as she glared viciously at the man sitting infront of him.

"T-ten thousand dollar." The man gulped, scared of how Valencia would react.

Smack. Valencia slapped the man hard on his right cheek, making his ear ring loudly. He gulped again as he looked up at the mafia queen in the eye, scared for his life now.

"You are really dense Patrick. This would have costed me millions. But what do you care? You wanted to fill your pockets, and now you won't have a single cent." Valencia said, anger sipping in her head, making her see red.

"But try to-" Patrick never got to finish as Valencia slit his throat, making him trash in the chair before going still as life left his body.

"Dispose him." Valencia said before walking out of dark basement to her lavish manor. She gave her dagger to her man, who took it away to disinfect it.

"We got our hands on the drugs. It's being send to the original buyer." Maximus, Valencia's right hand informed as he joined her.

"Brilliant. Any news from the chief of Police?" Valencia asked as she walked towards her office.

"He managed to lure Hernandes into a trap and now Hernandes is serving 15 years in jail." Maximus said, smirk evident on his face.

They entered into lavish Black themed office, with leather chairs and Black wood desk infront of the large window in the office, that had red curtain. Colour contrast.

"Amazing." Valencia said, smirking as she sat on her chair and kept her legs on the desk and clasped her hand together.

"Anything new on streets?" Valencia asked as she stared at Maximus.

"Nothing is new on streets. People still think goddess of you." Maximus informed as he sat on down on the chair infront of the desk.

"I want to get in contact with Siddhart Patel from India. He wanted to talk about exporting some drugs to his ring." Valencia said, putting a cigarette between her lips and lighting the cigarette with the lighter.

"Antònio mercelia called back. He has successfully delivered the drugs. But the hold on Europe by the Davis and Xaviers is proving a barrier." Maximus said as he scrolled through his phone. Valencia puff out the smoke of the cigarette.

"Europe it is, ain't it?" Valencia asked as she placed her legs down and leaned forward with her elbows on the table and chin being supported by her hands. She puffed out the smoke of the cigarette, that she inhaled a moment ago.

"Yes. Anthony Xavier and Harrison Davis. Both of them are the mafia king of Europe. News has it that they are loved by the politicians of that country for bring millions in the country everyday." Maximus snorted as he never understood mindset of politicians.

"Obsession with money, huh? Run me their information please. I want to know everything about them. From their hometown to their current location." Valencia ordered, while a malicious intention sparkled in those greyish yellow eyes.

"I am on it." Maximus said as he furiously typed on his macbook, while Valencia started to play with her pocket knife. She put out the cigarette between her finger and closed the ash tray.

Seven seas away, a cry sounded in the alley way. The man seemed to be running a marathon, or a race to save his life.

"I swear to jesus, I don't work for any mafia entity!" The man begged to the shadow that was overwhelming him.

"Tsk, tsk. A lie. I have so much experience that I am able to point out your lie. So tell me, who are you working for?" A disembodied voiced sounded in the empty alley way.

"I told you, I don't work for anyone. I just had drugs delivered at my door way, and I delivered those drugs to the original buyer. Nothing more!" The man said desperately, knowing that if he couldn't defend himself, he is as good as dead.

But there was no further questioning as two blasts of bullets resounded in the alleyway, marking the fate of the man in the alleyway.

"I hate liars." The man who killed the man grumbled as he pocketed his gun and turned around and removed his phone.

"Anthony, I am sure this trail leads to Valencia." Orion spoke up as his brother picked up his phone.

"You sure about that?" The person on the other side of the line asked, wary evident in his voice.

"Who else would deliver American crack cocaine to England? I am sure that it is the infamous Valencia Downey." Orion said as his driver opened the door for him, and Orion sat in the car.

"I will inform Davis about this, but are you really sure about this?  One misinformation can destroy our empire." Anthony made his concern evident to Orion.

"I am sure about this. Trust me on this one." Orion said to his brother and hung up before doing his own research.

The lady was more beautiful than he thought she would be. Beauty with poison...deadly combination.

She knows what she is doing, so does Orion. He pocketed his phone as he let his mind wander on the outcome of Valencia taking over their empire.

She was known for her ruthless and cruel treatment of the people who works for her. Except one. Maximus Carson. She seems to attach to him.

Maybe he is her weakness, or maybe something more for her. Orion's thought consumed him, and it was like an obsession growing day by day.

Orion entered his brother's office, unbottoning his blazer and removing the blazer. He tossed the blazer on the sofa in the corner, and loosened his tie.

"So Antònio Mercelia didn't give away anything?" Anthony asked from where he was sitting.

"Nope. He lied to me. And I hate liars." Orion growled as he sat on the sofa cross legged.

"So he is dead?" Anthony asked, raising his single brow at his brother.

"Yes. He is. But Europe is in for treat. There have been so many American spies in England, that it's more than obvious that Valencia has set her eyes on our country." Orion said, rolling his sleeves up and rubbing his forehead in irritation.

"Why are you so frustrated?" Anthony asked, amusement making it's way in his voice.

"What if we are too laid back and she gets her hold on our country? That's a nightmare for me. But what if that happens?" Orion asked as he stared at his brother, who just rolled his eyes.

"As much as I know about this Downey woman, she has control over America, and three fourth of Asia. But she tried three times to take her control on Europe, but just to fail. And we are not laid back. Stop worrying about the outcome which is not possible." Anthony reassured his brother as he went back to his typing again.

"Sir, Mr. Harrison Davis and Mr. Peter Davis are here to see you." Their Assistant stepped in the office and informed the duo.

"Sent them in please." Anthony said to his assistant before closing his macbook and fixing his blazer.

The two brunette stepped inside, in all formal wear and non chalant look. They both didn't look much familiar, yet they were brothers.

"Ah Harrison, peter. Have a seat." Anthony said firmly, neither friendly, nor with anonymity.

"You sounded like the matter on our hands is urgent. What is going on?" Harrison asked, sitting in the white leather chair, followed by Peter, who sat beside him.

"My brother here is concerned about Valencia Downey of America. In three weeks he has killed 6 rogues who started to work with Valencia. We ought to tighten our hold and boundaries." Anthony said, hands clasped in seriousness.

"I conveyed same concern to Harrison this morning. There are many of our employees going rogue. It's our time to tighten our grip and boundaries over our employees." Peter agreed nodding his head.

"We will do that, but be less paranoid. You will give away about your knowledge about knowing to have spies in our empire easily. And Valencia has already tried thrice, she won't succeed in her fourth attempt. We wont let her win." Harrison reassured his brother as he leaned back in his chair.

"If you dare to underestimate this woman, I will cut your throat. She is not a normal woman!" Peter exclaimed as he glared at his brother.

"Same goes for you Anthony. I will empty my bullets in you." Orion quipped, eyebrows raised in threatening way.

"I am glad to know that you are on our side." Anthony piped back, dryly and full of sarcasm.

"Good. Because I won't hesitate to do what I told you." Orion snapped back, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"And if you will try to get an access to her information, it's practically impossible. Even if you get a high rank Hacker, she will know our IP adress, giving out our location. We have to find our way. Sending some spies to America. In the den of snakes." Peter offered, eyes hold a determined look.

"I offer myself as a tribute." Oliver speak up from his place, not lifting his eyes from his phone.

"And I will tag along with him." Peter added, a smirk slowly made it's way on his lips.

"Are you two sure? Because one wrong move, it can cost you your lives." Harrison asked, brotherly instinct kicking in.

"Was never sure about something, like I am sure about this. I want to know how Valencia Downey works." Orion said, a smirk and something along the line of malice sparkled in his green eyes.

"If you are that sure about this. You will be leaving for America in two weeks." Anthony said, still not having good feeling about whole thing, but he knew his brother will do it, no matter how much he try, he won't budge.

Orion and Peter exchanged a triumph look before talking about clubs they opened last months.

Orion and Peter were the soul and heart of Davis and Xavier Empire. Both were ready to get blood on their hands, and they did got blood on their hands.

Harrison and Anthony were brain and discipline of the two empire, and without them Orion and Peter would have got themselves killed in the second year as a mafia.

And looking at the situation, it's either going to be a deal, or bloodshed. And the things will remain uncertain until the end.

[merryfortune]

for the writing prompt; how about "Unbind Me" + Wisteriashipping (being logged in to LV leave room for lots of creativity in the vine department)

unbind me

   And so, Yusaku decided to invite Spectre out to tea because he thought that Spectre would be the kind of person who would enjoy an invitation to tea. Not to mention, his own ulterior motive behind such an invitation: he wanted - er, no thought it would be wise - to have more Lost Incident Victims on his side in pursuit of Jin and his disappearance and connection to this Bohman entity. Honestly, Yusaku thought that Spectre would turn him down but instead, he graciously agreed to the invitation and they found a time and place which suited them: late evening, in the Link VRAINS on his territory.

   Yusaku had been warned against progressing this little deal farther. Ai and Kusanagi was quick to remind Yusaku of the sins that Spectre had struck out against them and their faction as well as how eccentric he was outside of all that. Takeru and Flame meanwhile had no opinions between the two of them because he had never met the guy - though, Flame was willing to give Spectre a chance based on the fact that it seemed likely that Yusaku’s intuition was correct and that Spectre was the originator that Earth belonged to - but reviewing the footage, he and Takeru were soon to change their minds. Any stance of neutrality between the two of them was soon revoked resoundingly due to disgust over how Spectre had dishonourably duelled with Playmaker and Blue Angel.

   Still, Yusaku marched forward. He sent his message and he received a reply in swift, due time. Of course, there were a few corollaries attached to it but he felt fine enough to obey. For example, he was to come alone and without his Ignis; they were to meet on Spectre’s territory or not at all, and so on and so forth. Yusaku thought it fair enough so, at the arranged time, he logged into the VRAINS from his own house. After all, there were to be no peeping toms and the like either from his side of the faction.

   When Playmaker emerged on the other side, he was surprised by his surroundings. He thought that he might finally get to the see inside of the very mystified Knights of Hanoi headquarters, but he doubted that such a place would use such verdant architecture as a hideout. Spectre had summoned him to some sort of private garden or greenhouse. Glass glittered overhead; just beneath a synthetic sun. Vines crawled throughout the space - and it was a very large space - and all sorts of plants flowered and grew inside of it. Some of these plants were fictitious, others Playmaker could identify as real. All of them carried a mix of scents and the idea that they were not likely harmless.

   Playmaker wandered through said garden, unsettled, and arrived. Spectre had already gone and ahead and taken the liberty of beginning their tea party without him. On a delicate, pale blue table, Spectre had all sorts of treats piled high. Tiny sandwiches, slices of cake, other little delectable things: none of it edible thanks to the fact that they were not real. Only looked at such. 

   “I meant it as a joke. A farce...” Playmaker said, he drew near and his fingers trailed along the back of the chair which was intended for him. It was a very fanciful object to match all the other fanciful things present here with him and Spectre.

   “I had a feeling.” Spectre replied and he picked up his teacup. He blew over it, where steam drew forth, and then put it to his lips. He pretended to drink then, returned the cup to his saucer in a very long and drawn-out game of play pretend. “However, unfortunately, I quite enjoy the concept of high tea so I am touched that you know me well enough to intuit such things about my personality.”

   Playmaker sat down. “Very well then.”

   He felt out of place in his cat-suit. Spectre, in his astute and rather refined jacket and trousers, looked to be quite in this element. He was practically haloed by all the greenery around him - around them both - but Playmaker was keen to remind himself that beneath the calm and serenity Spectre presented, there was a lot of rage.

   “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?” Spectre asked.

   “I encountered your Ignis.” Playmaker said. “He seems... nice, all things considered.”

   “Is that all...?” Spectre’s tone of voice was dull; his left hand made a sweeping gesture and his face looked very bored.

   “You don’t care?” Playmaker inquired.

   “Well, it’s not that I don’t care. I am a little bit interested but that’s a Pandora’s Box which is better off untouched. Whatever happens, happens; it’s none of my concern.” Spectre said.

   “That’s very callous of you to say.” Playmaker said. “He reminds me a lot of you. He’s very loving.”

   Spectre coughed and hacked. “Loving?” He was incredulous.

   “You love your Mother, don’t you?” Playmaker very awkwardly defended himself. “Well, he loves his... lover.” Playmaker cringed at his own words. “And he would do anything to protect said lover; just like you would do anything to protect your Mother. Your duelling styles revolve around the same core. Ergo, he reminds me of you and your scant better qualities.” 

   Spectre guffawed some more. “What is the point of this trite conversation?”

   “I want to recruit you.” Playmaker said, very plainly and he thought that maybe indulging the game would help. So, he pinched the handle of his teacup and he too, pretended to drink some tea. For a liquid, it was very much made up of nothing.

   “You want to headhunt me from the Knights of Hanoi?” Spectre was greatly amused by the self-perceived hilarity of the situation.

   “Yes. I do.” Playmaker seriously replied. “I want to gather the six victims of the Lost Incident. Together, we can stand strong against this threat of Bohman. Together, we can rescue Jin. I haven’t an idea of where to start, I was lucky to encounter Soulburner. And you’re the only other name and face I have so, I figured I would start by contacting you. As for the other two victims, I haven’t got a lead on either of them yet.”

   “Hm, well, you are barking up the wrong tree with me. Not even a cute little tea party could tempt me.” Spectre said and he petulantly knocked over the teapot in the middle of the tea.

   The tea went everywhere. It soaked the decorative, white cloth splayed across the table. Playmaker merely watched the amber liquid stream. He smelt roses distinctly as of right now. His expression turned grim.

   “Very well then.” Playmaker said. “I suppose this concludes our meeting then. Unless you wish to throw me a bone. Perhaps the Knights of Hanoi have data relating to the other two Incident Victims unaccounted for?”

   Spectre hummed. “It would be troublesome for Lord Revolver for you to expand your ranks using those two... But...”

   “But there might be some way of tempting you?” Playmaker piped up, more hopeful than he wanted to be.

   “Alas, I’m afraid not.” Spectre said but there was a deviant glint in his eyes. “But, I am willing to punish you for the insolence of questioning my loyalty.”

   Before Playmaker could protest that he meant no offence, Spectre snapped his fingers. Suddenly, Playmaker couldn’t move. All he could do was watched as Spectre continued to play his games in this place. The vines around them lurched and heaved, slowly inched forward and Playmaker was captured.

   Spectre got up and elegantly sauntered forth as Playmaker was subject to his thick, purple vines - roots? - which were at his disposal. He grinned maliciously as they wormed across Playmaker’s body. He put his hand atop his forehead and began to laugh. It was cruel, pith laugh which grated on Playmaker’s nerves. He struggled slightly but he could tell it was useless. He was in a very tight and quite possibly very maternal embrace right now; his face was going red. Especially as Spectre so lovingly eyed him over and over and over, very meticulously detailing exactly how he looked at his mercy.

   “Spectre.” Playmaker growled. “Unbind me, right this instance.”

   “Later, dearest, later... Don’t worry, I’ll be kind. I’ll let your allies know that you're in a teensy bit of danger. However, for now, all I’ll do is have you sit in your naughty corner so you can postulate on your insolence.” Spectre said once he had finished his maniacal laughter. “But for now, I must bid thee farewell, but I truly did enjoy our little tea party. Though, you may want to brush up on your etiquette.” 

   With that, Spectre left. He disappeared with another snap of his fingers; his figure was taken into a cavalcade of blue and white shards of sparkling data. Playmaker spat at where he once stood. He struggled some more but all that did was tighten the grip these damnable vines had on him. He fumed; his blood ran red hot. Abandonment play... What a bastard, Playmaker thought to himself, cursing both himself and Spectre out as he continued to feel hot under the very skin tight collar. He just hoped that Kusanagi or Soulburner found him soon.

[phishingsafertytips-blog]

How Spear Phishing works

Spear-phishing is a targeted attempt to steal sensitive information such as account credentials or financial information from a specific victim, often for malicious reasons. This is achieved by acquiring personal details on the victim such as their friends, hometown, employer, locations they frequent, and what they have recently bought online. The attackers then disguise themselves as a trustworthy friend or entity to acquire sensitive information, typically through email or other online messaging. 

Spear phishing definition

Spear phishing is the act of sending and emails to specific and well-researched targets while purporting to be a trusted sender. The aim is to either infect devices with malware or convince victims to hand over information or money.

Where phishing attacks began as Nigerian prince scams in the mid-1990s, today they have morphed into well-researched and targeted campaigns that are both highly effective and incredibly difficult to stop...read more at - Csoonline.

How does spear phishing work?

This familiarity is what makes spear phishing attacks successful. Attackers collect information from social media about potential targets, including their personal and professional relationships and other personal details. The attacker uses this information to craft a personalized message that looks and sounds authentic to convince the target to respond to the sender’s request. The sender may request that the user reply directly to the email, or the message may include a malicious link or attachment that installs malware on the target's device, or directs the target to a malicious website that is set up to trick them into giving sensitive information like passwords, account information or credit card information.

Spear phishing characteristics

Spear phishing can be more difficult to identify than phishing attacks due to the personal details that give the messages an air of validity. However, some of the characteristics that are common to phishing emails are also common to spear phishing emails:

The sender’s email address is spoofed. The email address looks like it’s from a trusted individual and/or domain, but closer inspection reveals a typographical error or the exchange of one alphanumeric character for another that closely resembles it (such as the letter “I” replaced with the number one).

A sense of urgency, particularly as it relates to performing a task that goes against company policy. Attackers evoke a sense of urgency to exploit the recipient’s desire to do good or to simply be helpful. For example, posing as the target’s direct supervisor, an attacker may ask for the username and password for an internal application so that they can fulfill a critical request from upper management in a timely manner, rather than wait for IT to reset their password.

Poor grammar, typographical errors or unlikely language within the body of the message. The body of the email does not sound like other messages from the supposed sender. Perhaps the tone is too informal or the jargon is incorrect for the recipient’s geographic location or industry...read more at - Techtarget.

Spear-Phishing and Whaling Make Scams More Targeted

Not only are these threats not going away, they are getting more sophisticated with the introduction of spear-phishing, which introduces social engineering to the mix to specifically target companies or even employees, making phishing attempts even more difficult to spot. In fact, according to CDW’s recently released Cybersecurity Insights report, spear-phishing has become “both real and pervasive in the last” two years.

In 2016, spam made up more than 50 percent of business emails to all businesses, despite size, according to a recent report from Symantec...to know more, visit - Biztechmagazine.

Best practices to avoid spear phishing

Avoiding spear phishing attacks means deploying a combination of technology and user security training. Here are eight best practices businesses should consider to protect against these attacks, according to the report:

Take advantage of artificial intelligence

Find a solution that detects and blocks spear phishing attacks including BEC and brand impersonation that may not include malicious links or attachments. Machine learning tools can analyze communication patterns in an organization and spot any anomalies that may be signs of an attack.

Don't rely solely on traditional security

Traditional email security that uses blacklists for spear phishing and brand impersonation detection may not protect against zero-day links found in many attacks.

Deploy account-takeover protection

Find tools that use AI to recognize when accounts may have been compromised, to avoid more spear phishing attacks from originating from those accounts...find out more at - Techrepublic.

Spear phishing has tremendously profited criminals more than plain phishing alone. It is especially tricky because identity thieves invest so much time and effort in obtaining pieces of personal information about their potential victims so that in return the recipients will think that the email message is legitimat.

[alittlepieceofwarcraft]

Orphans of the Forest

Year 33, fall, two weeks after the night elves first reclaim Darkshore.

The rain fell like the tears of Elune, though in large, dirty droplets, tainted grey with ash. While the cloud cover was thick, even it could not squash the light of the moon that shone brightly through the cracks. It, like the kaldorei, would not be broken. Despite the heavy rain fall, relatively little made it to the ground where the large black panther currently skulked. Using the sound of it against the thick tree canopies, the druid let it camouflage his steps while the shadows took care of the rest. He was tired, hungry, and hadn't slept for a couple days. Be it all the same, if the human king wasn't going to help them take back their lands, he wasn't going to wait in Stormwind for the notion to fall on convenience for him. He had to do something. The fatigue was beginning to get the best of him, however, and every step caused pain to splinter like lightning through his side where a hastily wound lay wrapped hastily wrapped with vines, thick sea weed, and salve. He could tell by the smell of it that whatever the Forsaken that had hit him with had likely caused infection to set in, but in the end, he had survived while the dead things had met their true death.  And now, Verdanikus patrolled, pondering if perhaps he might meet his own out in this place that had long been his home.  

 Between the bushes Mywin remained crouched as the swaying and increasing incoherent figure dragged their heavy paws towards her. Hidden, she could study it without detection. As it stumbled closer, she began to see the form in much more detail: a panther, sleek black coat dampened from the downpour, thick layers of seaweed wrapped around its middle as if to keep him together. Mywin frowned. Something had attacked this creature, yet nothing was pursuing it which meant they hadn’t attacked the mighty beast for its rich meat or silky coat. And then someone else had bandaged it up and left it to journey on. How curious.

 Verda continued on, swaying on his paws. To him, it felt as if the sea had risen beneath the ground, causing his unsteadiness. However, the ground was as steady as ever, and after another step, he stumbled and collapsed. However, when his small panther body hit the ground, it caused reverberations to shake the area as if a much, much, larger thing had fallen. His breath was labored, and his eyes glazed as he whimpered softly. He didn't try to get back up, his head spinning. 

 Mywin leapt up and hurried over the creature. 

“Quel dorei,” she reached out slowly to cup one side of the drowsy panther’s face, “do not be afraid. I will help you.” By then, it was so intoxicated by the malicious state that had sprung upon it that the poor creature barely seemed to notice her presence. Its body was warm to the touch, feverish. An infection. Raising a palm and closing her eyes, she began reciting an incantation under her breath, concentrating on every word, every syllable. Green wisp-like magic danced from her fingertips, wafting towards the being and swirling around its form. Slowly, panther began to ease, relaxing its muscles, indicting the spell’s success.

 That feverishness took a moment to wear off as she healed and purified it, and when the infection left, it left exhaustion in its wake. The kind that left Verda unable to fully keep his true form hidden. A thick green dragon tail and long ibex-like white horns appeared, proportionate to the panther's size. It, unknowing that they were there, let out a soft chuffing noise, looking at her thankfully, and forgetting he couldn't actually talk in his panther form instead used that dragon way of projecting speech that felt as if it came from nowhere. "Thank you..." Mywin flinched, blinked once, then again. Completely bewildered and taken aback by the panther speaking: she’d expected perhaps a purr, or a sigh, but not Common to exhale out of the jaws of this big cat. She shuffled back still upon her knees, just a little, unsure how to respond. Her silver eyes darted to the changing form of the beast, widening in shock. He lifted his head a little confused, looking back to see his green tail, scaled tail was attached to his panther body, and realized he probably looked like some kind of odd chimera. With some effort, his form shimmered with white light before a seven-foot-tall blue-skinned kaldorei sat before her, dark navy dreadlocks falling in a tangle around his face. He placed a large hand on the ground to steady himself a moment. "Forgive me, I did not mean to surprise you," he spoke gently, his voice barely above a whisper. "My name is Verda. I promise, I mean you no harm." Mywin scanned the new form up and down and said nothing from a moment. After a heartbeat or two of aghast, the confusion faded with realisation sinking in. A shapeshifter, or druid perhaps. She swallowed and allowed the assurance to ease in, giving a small smile, 

“I thought you to be the result of a failed hunt. I am Winnifred. Mywin.”

 He started to reach to take her hand for a proper greeting, but paused without touching her, canting his head a little awkwardly. For a moment, he just seemed unable to figure out how to go about greeting her by touch and ended up giving up and just dropping his hand. "It is good to meet you, Mywin." Absently he rubbed his freshly healed side. "I suppose, in a way, we survivors all are results of failed hunts. The Horde meant to exterminate us, yet we still live." Mywin nodded. 

“Our people have suffered much. Far too many losses.” She bit her lip, remembering those who once had been but were no more. And those who yet lived but could not be beside her. A legendary Sentinel mother and a powerful druid father both resting with Elune, a mysterious demon hunter who she disturbed peeking in on a festival one fateful full moon lit night now dwelled by the greatest beings in all the universe. All three living, dying or making sacrifices for honour and the ultimate good of Azeroth. Yet they had left her behind.  She exhaled and returned her attention to the stranger before her. “What brings you to this part of the forest?”

"I...don't honestly remember," he said looking around. "Last I remember, I had been hunting the Horde caravans bringing in more war resources and taking out the ones that I could. I must have wandered here in my haze. Thank you for the healing, I am sorry to have troubled you." He paused a moment. "What brings you to this part of Darkshore?"

She inhaled sharply, like electricity had running through her as she suddenly remembered.

“I want to stay close...” inclining her head to the corpse of Teldrassil in the distance. No longer smoking, its colossal charcoal body could be seen by the naked eye even from miles away. Branches that once stretched out proudly seemed to be mere blackened twigs, bark chilled away by flame, barren of leaves that left them naked.  “My birthplace is Hyjal and my an’da and min’da are there. I never had the chance to see Teldrassil as often as I would have liked. And now I won’t.”

"I hatched there...in a den near Dolanaar," he said quietly, sitting cross-legged. He looked back at the husk of his home with sorrow and an ache that cut straight to the quick of his essence. "I don't remember how I ended up through the portal to Stormwind. I thought for sure...I would have died in the Temple for sure." 

“I’m sorry… you hatched?”

He blinked for a moment, confused as to why she seemed confused at the idea. Then it dawned on him, and he smiled a little shyly. "Oh, I'm sorry. My true name is Verdanikus, of the Green Dragonflight." He rubbed at the back of his neck, the slightest hint of blush purple on his blue cheeks. "I keep forgetting."

Mywin similarly went a bright shade of red in embarrassment. Of course, how could she have missed it? Shape shifters don’t just take aspects of a form, they become the whole entity. She internally scolded herself for her stupidity. There were a million questions she wanted to ask: how old was he? An ancient dragon or a youngling? Did he know the Ysera the Dreamer when she was alive? Could he fly, and if so how far? A moment passed until she realised she’d not said anything.

“I apologise for my ignorance”, she admitted, “I should know better than to make conclusions based on what I think I see.” 

He waved his hands a little worriedly, shaking his head. "Please don't be upset! I forget I am not kaldorei. That is on me," he insisted, feeling his heart speeding with anxiety. Worry showed on his face that he might be chasing his new friend away with that secret. "I was raised kaldorei, I don't know who my parents were. My egg was abandoned in that den, and when I hatched, it was to see Shan'do Duskwinter staring at me. He was the closest I had to parents, and I just kind of forgot what I was as I tried to fit in, because I feel I am kaldorei more than I feel I am dragon." Mywin became even more intrigued with each word that escaped the dragon’s mouth

“Fascinating,” she finally replied. “Does your shan’do live?” He shook his head. "He passed a thousand years ago. He had become very ill, though he had hidden it from me. His resting place had been on Teldrassil..." He let out a soft huff through his nose, fierce eyes looking up toward the silhouette of it in the distance. "And now...it is gone." Glancing back to her, his expression softened. "I am sorry about that. I am not used to...being angry or longing for vengeance. It is not...it is something that before this war...I had been against." A lost little orphan, just like her, yet they’d both managed to find themselves in the same society only with herself only a short flight path away from the other. 

“Anger is not natural to me, it is not comfortable. I am born of Sentinel Kalnor Starblade and Druid Tavanar Owlcaller.” Pride laced her words as she spoke their names, followed by a sadness of the next part she inevitably had to say. “Both are with Elune now. I did not feel rage then. Then, dying an honourable death in battle is far more just than put to the flame.”

"They took me in, the kaldorei. Most accepted me as one of them or helped me learn what it truly means to be kaldorei." He said quietly. "There were small children, mothers, all cuddled together within the thick of the smoke. The flames were so close, my scales bubbled from the heat though I had not caught fire." he closed his eyes. "The screams..." There was a small whimper through his nose. "They were murdered like cattle for slaughter. There was no honor, no...no meaning for their deaths..." Mywin didn’t meet his gaze, only stared on into distance to notice the downpour was subsiding as the sun’s glowing silhouette hidden behind grey clouds sank into the earth. She stretched her legs to rise from the ground. 

“I should return to my shan’do. He will be wondering where I have got to.”

"May I accompany you? If only to see you safely back to your shan'do?" He asked quietly. "It is the least I could do to make it up to you for helping me." Mywin glanced around, surveying the area.

“It appears to be safe, but I would be glad of the company.” Verda smiled, seemingly encouraged by the invitation, and stood to his full seven-foot and stretched as well. He was bare chested, in a pair of ancient looking linen pants that were tattered as could be and barefoot. There were thick scars near his spine that swirled and curled ominously, burned into him as fierce as his memory of Teldrassil's extinction.

"Please, lead the way, Miss." He said in his entirely gentle way, hands clasped behind his back. 

 Mywin couldn’t help but look just a little too long at his muscular physique as she admired the strong body that had stood beside her. A little taller than herself, dreaded hair falling past chiselled collarbones that lined a perfectly formed chest, feet solidly planted into the earth as he patiently waited for her to step forward. A being so very pleasant to behold. She registered the pause she’d caused in her daydream and hurried to the front and paced towards the trees that tangled themselves into the thick of the forest, only leaving a vinery passage for them to slip through.

“The druid caravan was this way,” she assured, “they won’t have moved.” He noticed her staring, and moved his arms out of the way a little as he canted his head, thinking maybe she thought she saw something. When she simply sped ahead without a comment, he followed and let it drop. Must have been nothing.

"Alright, lead the way, Miss Mywin." He smiled softly, happy to protect her. She worked her way through the winding woods, trees towering above them and grass becoming thicker and unkept. Her silver night elven eyes were used to hunting in the dark and her long ears were able to detect any twig snapped that was not under the feet of her or her companion. Fortunately, as they delved further into the depths, no creature - Horde or otherwise - was roused by their trek. A few minutes passed as she focussed in the route until she stopped in her tracks: grey billows of smoke rising from a fire pit could be seen overhead. Her camp. Nearing the flames confirmed it. A party of night elves sat around the fire swigging water from their skins, warming their hands against its comfort. A particularly unique druid was stationed at the back of the group, staring into the thicket as if he were waiting for someone, hands clasped behind a back that sprouted two giant eagle-like wings, antlers akin to a moose exaggerating his height. As she drew closer, his ears flickered, and he gave a content nod, his thero’shan was alive and returning. She turned to Verda.

“Yes, this is them,” she smiled. “Thank you for your escort. It was welcome.” Verda followed quietly, his gold eyes glowing in the low-light. For a dragon, it was remarkable how silent his footsteps were. It had taken years for him to learn to control his strength and weight to mask it and fit in better. Now he was stealthier than some of the better druids around, and rather sure footed. As he saw the camp, he smiled to her.

"Be safe. Thank you for saving my life, Miss Mywin." He said gently. 

“Just Mywin,” she grinned and gave a small wave before entering the area and murmurs of greetings could be heard from beyond the bushes. 

"Just Mywin," he whispered to himself, watching her go, before shifting back into that panther form and stalking off, deciding to take up a quick patrol to make sure there weren't any Horde scouts threatening their camp before he'd head back to hunting.

*Kaldorei: “Children of the Stars”, night elf/elves. 

*Quel dorei: “Noble child”: in this content she’s using the phrase as a pet name rather than its combined meaning of “Children of noble birth”, high elf/elves.

*Shan’do: “Honoured teacher”, a title.

*Thero’shan: “honoured student”, a title.

Verda is owned by co-writer @fullelven.

Continues with A Winter Veil’s Tale.