#Connor Temple Things {General}

[infriga]

Content I wish there was a bit more of in the dbh fandom:

More Content with Connor Markus AND Kara interacting and dealing with shit together, especially in post-game stories. For some reason Kara content is always separate from the other two mains, I wanna see more shenanigans with all 3 of them.

More Connor & Luther interactions. They have so much in common! They can bond over their guilt from being forced to harm other androids before eventually deviating out of empathy! Also they can bond over learning how to not throw themselves into the line of fire at a moment's notice all the time lol.

More Luther content in general. He mostly just gets paired as an accessory with Kara and I wanna see more of him.

More Markus/Josh content. I don't even actually ship them I just think the amount of Mosh content is disproportionately low compared to most other Markus ships. He deserves some ship action too!

More North/Josh content. I DO ship them and the fact that more people don't ship them baffles me considering how much tumblr loves to ship characters who bicker with each other and are treated as polar opposites. Even just some more friendship content with them would be nice.

More Josh content in General. He's an important member of Jericho too but he gets shafted a lot in fics and fanart compared to the other two.

Some ATLA AU content where Markus is the Avatar and Connor is the disgraced Fire Nation Prince hunting him down. C'MON PEOPLE IT'S RIGHT THERE HOW IS THIS NOT MORE OF A THING?! Simon can be the water tribe teacher, Josh can be the earth nation teacher, North can be the Fire Nation teacher, Hank can be Connor's older role model figure who tags along with him and helps him develop his moral compass, Nines can be the terrifying smarter faster stronger younger sibling who also goes after Markus when Connor fails too many times (aka when he lets Markus and other criminal benders escape too many times huehuehue), Amanda can be the Fire Lord (yes I know she's literally an ice queen but you can't tell me she doesn't also fit the sinister manipulative leader character who Connor would be desperate to make proud and live up to her expectations), Kamski can be a former Avatar who shows up to give cryptic advice occasionally. Gavin would be the commander character who constantly gives Connor shit similar to Zhao. IT WORKS SO WELL GUYS. Kara doesn't slot in as well as the others but we can fit her in there somehow, she can maybe be one of the people who moved into that one air temple and repurposed it. It's just kinda wild how well most of the characters/roles would fit the au scenarios so I'm surprised I haven't seen it before when I've seen at least one take on an Avatar AU for almost every other fandom I've been in.

I am aware that I can create more of this content myself but I am currently working on graduating university and getting a job so for now I'm just gonna make a wistful post about it.

[scun-gilli]

TRT Winged Wingmen Character Descriptions

OKAY. Work is finally over (at 10pm....kill meeee) I apologize for the excessive amount of reference links and how freaking long this is.

Here are detailed descriptions of the Morningstar brothers.

We will start with the oldest and go down.

URIEL MORNINGSTAR

Hair color: White

Hair style: When he was younger, it was super long (like Sephiroth lol) but during the current story, it is short and neatly combed back. Think Connor from DBH

Skin color: PALE. LIKE A GHOST (or me lol)

Features: He looks kind of androgynous. Similar again to Connor from DBH but slightly softer. He has four white wings that come from the side of his head (around the temples) and fold over each other to hide his eyes when he's not actively using his magic. He is pretty thin and lanky. Two white wings

Eye color: He has four eyes (stacked like Stolas) That have black pupils and dark purple sclera (the sclera look similar to a starry sky with the milky way)

Magic color: Very celestial, like the milky way (like stolas)

Height: Super tall, like Sera or Valentino

Fighting style: He is TRASH at close quarters fighting or even with weapons, but he is an extremely powerful magic user.

Known abilities: [these are the ones we know of now ;)] Prophetic vision, warding, true vision (He can see the past, the true nature of souls, the prophecies written into reality and the red threads of fate)

Duty: His job is of course on the royal counsel as an advisor using his visions and conducting the thread ceremonies.

Clothing: On a day to day basis, he wears something similar to this (in fact, this is pretty close to how I imagine him in general) But in his typical white/purple/blue (more star motifs lol) tones. Also, the capelet is not present unless it's for formal occasions. Also knee high boots because I am a sucker for men in tall boots.

MICHAEL MORNINGSTAR

Hair color: blonde

Hair style: Shoulder length, typically pulled back into a half up bun hairstyle. Like this

Skin color: Also Pale like Luci.

Features: Face wise, he basically looks like Luci (without the animal features), maybe slightly sharper than luce but they overall look really similar. He is a muscle daddy, broad shoulders and abs, the whole thing. Two white wings

Eye color: Blue (now just the right one) the left eye socket is now covered with bandages but he'll eventually get an eyepatch thing.

Magic color: Gold or blue. Takes the form of little bolts of electricity (kinda like Vox ig)

Height: Still tall but not as freakishly tall as Uriel. I would say a little taller than Al.

Fighting style: Dude is a beast. Works best in hand to hand or weapon based combat (that he infuses with magic). He prefers to use his chains (think Kurapika from HxH kinda chains) or he has a sword like Luci's.

Known abilities: [these are the ones we know of now ;)] summoning weaponry (like the chains), electricity based magical pulses, being sexy, smithing (creating the armor and weapons like the armor he made for Al), battle strategy, teaching (like at the KA), convincing Al to take care of himself when needed XD

Duty: His job is the general of the royal army, writing the curriculum for the students at the knight academy and training the new knights at the academy (like he does with Al)

Clothing: He is a lot more casual than his brothers. On the daily, its usually something like a white dress shirt (no tie, only for formal occasions) and slacks OR a black turtleneck with slacks. When he is fancy, like this or something similar. He also frequently wears a cloak (like in the picture) When actively training cadets, he is in clothes he can easily move in (T-shirts/sleeveless shirts and pants) If left to his own devices, he would be dressing in sweatpants all the time.

RAPHAEL MORNINGSTAR

Hair color: light brown

Hair style: Pretty long and curly (ringlets about past the chest). He usually braids it to keep it back or will put it in a ponytail (now with assistance or magic)

Skin color: tan and with a lot of freckles (he is a sunshine boy that loves to garden and he looks like it)

Features: He looks a lot more feminine than his brothers, softer features. dimpled cheeks. Two white wings. Only one arm on the right side.

Eye color: Golden (with little flecks of green)

Magic color: Gold

Height: As tall as Alastor (who became my scale for some reason)

Fighting style: Fighting is NOT his strong suit, but when he has to, he prefers long range weapons (like spears or bows)

Known abilities: [these are the ones we know of now ;)] Extremely potent healing magic, can diagnose illnesses, green thumb, well versed in all forms of medicine (including holistic), he's well versed in nutrition and can basically find a tea for any ailment ever, he can also calm souls around him using magic.

Duty: His job is, of course, the healer. He studies medicine from all realms (he and Belphegor will get along for sure), he teaches other healers and he plants herbs and other medicinal plants anywhere he is allowed XD

Clothing: Raphael will dress both masculine and feminine. He's very fluid about it. He prefers simple clothing that he can garden in (or if he is actively healing, he wants something that is out of his way) He usually wears a cloak over his clothes (Especially after his injury in the war) but underneath I imagine something like this or this (without overcoat) I can't find a reference for his formal outfits to save my life but it would be super flowy and in earth tones. I am not too happy about the clothing reference but I am eepy and struggling to find something cute. Hell, I may make an outfit reference board at some point, but I am sweepy.

GABRIEL MORNINGSTAR

Hair color: Dark brown

Hair style: Kept fairly short, basically a big mop of brown curls. He likes to braid beads and other accessories into his hair.

Skin color: tan like Raphael

Features: He has rounder features. (for some reason Wybie from Coraline comes up) two white wings.

Eye color: Bright green

Magic color: Green

Height: Shorter than Al but taller than Luci.

Fighting style: He can fight but really prefers not to. When he does fight, he's not half bad. He uses brass knuckles or his magic. He is a very strong magic user (not quite as much as Luci or Uri but still really strong)

Known abilities: [these are the ones we know of now ;)] Can detect magic influences and can even trace it's sources, Very fast (can quickly travel between realms and is the fastest flyer), He can speak basically any language and is pretty good at reading people when he puts his mind to it.

Duty: His job is the ambassador between realms. His job is to not only be the communicator between powers but he also escorts souls into heaven for meetings with the king. He is also the voice of father, meaning that father can speak through him when needed.

Clothing: He is a huge fan of being casual (like Mike) When he is able to, he's the big sweaters and floppy pants type of guy. He also really likes jewelry. (like bohemian style. almost hippie?) But when he needs to be formal he wears something more traditional, similar to this but in greens (and is usually disheveled in some way) I am not that pleased with this clothing reference either, but I repeat, papa is EEPY.

Annnnnd we are done!!! Thank you for reading this far XD I may update this after I sleep but I will let you know if I do. This is what we are working with so far.

I can also do descriptions of Al and Luci (like outfit inspos and what headcanons I adhere to for the fic. I just wanted to focus on the bros for now)

Here you go @elkaseltzer! Thank you for your interest in knowing about the winged wingmen. This is also for @i-genuinely-dunno who requested the descriptions as well. Huge thanks to my girl, Yuzu, on X for the help with these XD

[jocelynwus]

every noah marshall fanfic

under the cut are all the noah marshall fanfics i could find. all respective authors are credited—and massive thanks for their works <3 (and if you'd like me to take it off this list pls lmk!) ps — lmk if i missed some and feel free to tag me in any new fics !

key [editor’s note]  ★ personal fav (BUT THEY ARE ALL GOOD NOAH STANS ARE FR TALENTED) 

a promise by @heartofarcanum

It was no one’s fault really. It was this thing that lived in the woods. This force, this power, corrupting souls left and right. It had ruined lives for centuries, but Jamie wasn’t about to let it ruin Noah’s any further.

★ a seed planted by @galpalaven

In that little bit of time before everything came crashing down, they did make a memory or two. Or, alcohol and high school bullies can make for a nice night, once in a blue moon.

after everything by pinkiegladysgutzman

Noah gives an update on how Connor's doing. Takes place after It Lives Beneath. For everyone who chose Connor because Noah wasn't an option.

as orpheus to eurydice by galpalaven

A story fit for the temples of Ancient Greece and the campfires on the battlefields of Rome, Noah Marshall does the impossible for the only person he's ever truly loved. Noah brings his best friend back from the dead, and lives to tell the tale.

★ brown eyes and cheap whiskey by anonymous :( 

Devon still hates whiskey, and always will. It’s just that.. it’s taste is sweeter, somehow, after it’s passed through Noah’s lips.

★ despair by linkysmommy

Noah experiences the emotional aftermath of MC sacrificing herself to save him and Jane.

everything i couldn’t see before by @hold-me-tight-big-boat

This started as a little drabble based on the soulmate au that the world is black and white until you meet your soulmate then quickly turned into something I could imagine as possibly the introduction for It Lives Book Three. I took the idea that it’d take place in the mountains and kinda ran with it. Seeing as it’s possible for both MCs from book one and two to be dead, there’s also a new MC. 

★ green light by @stayfallentasticc

Noah sees a familiar face in art class; a face he knows all so well. 

head over heels for you by @stunningstans

Takes place during the development of Noah and MC’s relationship. Basically, it’s just fluff.

★ i bet you look good on the dancefloor by @cryinginthebackseat

She rolled her eyes. “You heard me the first time, Marshall. Pretty please? Come on, consider this as our way to celebrate Redfield’s defeat!” Jesus, since when did he celebrate something in general? And now to dance? Amongst the crowd and with her no less? Noah’s head said hard no, he already had a myriad of thoughts in his mind right now, he couldn’t afford getting distracted and when there were feelings in the way, he feared if he couldn’t trust himself to keep his emotion in check. Yet his heart said otherwise. This was Zoey, Noah could never deny her. He would never deny her anything, especially when this could be their last moment on good terms together.

if only by stayfallentasticc

(Written in Noah’s Perspective) Noah finds himself falling for his best friend, but finds himself in denial. How will he react when he confirms MC is dating someone else? 

it lives again by a_sprinkle_of_glitter

last year, dollie sacrificed herself for noah and jane marshall in the hopes of putting an end to the terror in westchester. after a year of nightmares and running from his mistakes, noah has come home. haunted by the memory of his sister and the girl he betrayed (or maybe they're actually haunting him. he doesn't know anymore), he's determined to set things right. he wants to find a way to bring her back, but he'll settle for releasing her from whatever power holds her and giving her rest.

ilitw fic by @it-lives-in-westchester

This is how I personally think MC and Redfield!Noah first meeting went.

★ it lives in the woods by machinehead

[retelling with noah as love interest] 

★ it lives in the woods by @lovelahela

[retelling with noah as presumed li]

it lives everywhere (a collection of it lives au fics) by nitelunne

it lives within us: an it lives retelling by nitelunne 

★ juxtaposed with you  by @moonydaydreams

Lighting never strikes in the same place twice, but a second chance does. Even for someone like Noah Marshall.

late nights by @rainesclan

After an argument between the group, Noah stops by late one night to brainstorm with MC (Kayleigh) about the situation with Redfield.

lighthouse by stayfallentasticc

[dan x noah x mc] Stacy gives Noah the advice to tell Her. He figures he will one day, just not today. Soon after, he finds out - he should’ve. 

★ like happiness by @livesbeneath

she assumes that’s what he’s practicing now; recipes he’s perfected a hundred times over. in this respect, good enough will never be good enough for him. he has more drive than most give him credit for, and without that drive, baby jane’s would be nothing more than a thought scribbled down on a notepad.

lost and found by anonymous

"What do you want from me?!" he shouts. "Why can't I just let you go?" You don't want to let her go, the better part of him says. You know what you have to do.

★ once, twice, forever (although nothing ever lasts that long) by @yawninginf

And while the shadows might still be the same, their inhabitant has changed. And this monster can still recognize the gaze piercing through its darkness. Those eyes… They're familiar. aka: time after that fateful night of homecoming barely passed, until mc (female Devon) returned to find what remained of the one left behind

★ percolating gently by @slothgiirl

au in which jane marshall lives and mc and noah and jane run off to live happily ever after a family of three

pricks and needles by stayfallentasticc

Follows immediately after the end of the latest chapter. MC discovers that Redfield was Jane all along. Will Noah succumb to the darkness that beckons him? Or will MC manage to help him?

★ six feet between by livesbeneath

to be caught trespassing in a cemetery is bad enough without a preceding criminal record. he knows visiting westchester is risky, and that being out in the open isn’t the smartest idea, but he finds it somewhat therapeutic, maybe in a sickening way, to occasionally come full circle after his stops at the ruins. 

★ sharp objects by livesbeneath

noah attempts to avoid bringing feelings to light as the gang marches on redfield a final time.

toss your dirty shoes (in my washing machine heart) by slothgiirl

[connor x mc x noah] mc is planning her wedding to connor and things happen. good things.

★ the end of all things by livesbeneath

it’s three am, and her laugh is in his head. it almost makes him want to live.

the night devon died by @pixelberryjungkook

[drabble]  This is a little account of the night Devon died and took Jane's place (from the perspective of Noah).

the time that came between (+part 2) by linkysmommy

What happened to Noah after Jazmyn Park sacrificed herself and he fled Westchester?

the train ride home is invalid by stayfallenstasticc

[dan x mc x noah] Dan and MC have been dating for quite some time. However, after a football game, Noah decides to tell Dan something important (that he has feelings for MC). 

the road that leads to you by stayfallentasticc

[dan x mc x noah // mainly a dan/mc fit but there are some good noah mc crumbs, such as “Noah’s face brightens, a flash of happiness that Dan hasn’t seen before evident in his face.”] The development of Dan and MC’s relationship; a deeper look into how Dan falls for MC and MC as a whole. The green, red lights and stop signs of their relationship. 

someday by nocturnalknight

Jun confesses. Noah runs. Neither of them can escape their demons, or forget about each other. The span of a years-long yearning.

weekends in westchester by @twyrinehaze

Noah and Devon through 3 different Saturdays, and 3 different years.

what if this storm ends (and i don’t see you) by @zekedorian

set in chapter 14, when the gang is on their way to confront redfield for the final time.

you will never walk alone by @noahpologiste

Right after chapter 8, “Breakdown.”

desperately, desperately by leovaldezismycomfortcharacter

Devon finds it hard to breathe while his friends argue.

friends by @robbiessutcliffe

After Alexei sacrificed himself to take Jane’s place, Noah felt that it was his fault. So a year later, he finds himself going back to the woods. This has been going on for a while, but one day… He's spotted.

forever by @littlebirdofprey

Set before the beginning of It Lives In The Woods during the end of their junior year, Victor wants to reconnect with Noah but doesn't know how.

judas’ kiss by @professor-abeloved

After years of fighting for his life, you finally see him—your best friend, made blood and flesh and bone once more. The reason you've working non-stop for years; the reason your heart beats in anticipation, waiting for the day his own comes to life. The reason the rest of your friends are dead.

of what was everything by littlebirdofprey

Trying anything and everything to help keep Noah as much himself as possible, Victor plays Noah some of his favourite music.

the misfortunes of shadow boy by paperdreams123

Fletcher Blackwood knows that he is still in there, somewhere. And that is all he needs.

the only way is forward by littlebirdofprey

set during ch.19 of It Lives Within. Victor tries to cheer up Noah about food not tasting right since his resurrection

there for you by robbiessutcliffe

Things have been getting harder for Noah at home with everything going on… So who better to go to than his most trusted friend, Alexei?

snowflake kisses by professor-abeloved

Devon's first time in the snow again, was both a familiar memory and a strange dream, realer than anything in the past few months. (It's as if the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.)

run boy run by robbiessutcliffe

This talks about the ending of ILITW, after MC (named Alexei, in this) sacrifices themself.

we lived by dvnlln 

you’re not alone by writerofdoom

Noah attempts to reconcile with the one person he hurt the most.

a collection of fics written by @julia-highstorms

★ home is six feet under by stayfallentasticc

Noah can sense whenever MC (you) is upset. You find solace in the safety in his arms, but you can’t shake off the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

live. die. repeat. by slothgiirl

★ maybe together we can get somewhere by slothgiirl

the gang finds out noah is alive. he and mc have built a life together while no one was paying attention 

★ nothings going to take you from my side by slothgiirl

in which mc deals with the fallout of redfield/jane all while reconnecting with the boy they thought they’d lost forever.

take a deep breath baby by slothgiirl

Noah figures out how to make things right.

the one where mc communes with her ghost boyfriend noah by @slothgiirl

★ the one where noah marshall saves mc by slothgiirl

things you said with too many miles between us by @shreyamistry

through the trees by stayfallentasticc

Noah and MC have drifted apart, will the confrontation leave both sides with answers. 

realizing you’ve fallen in love by shreymistry

Here I bring to you, Ava, Andy, Stacy, Lucas, Lily, Noah, and Dan x MC mini fics!

★ what could have been us by xclipsx

A collection of Noah X MC draft fanfics, I've been keeping ever since the book ended.  whistle me a silent memory There’s so much you wish you could tell them. How much you wished to hear Jane’s laughter one last time. How much you wished to tell Noah just how you felt about him for 12 years. be my endgame Confessing how you feel about your bestfriend turned stranger is kinda hard. Not to mention you're both tired, depressed and awkward around each other. Damn, when can ya'll have a break? “To lay my life for you in a heartbeat. So, what I’m trying to say is that you, Noah Marshall, are my best friend, my most trusted confidant, my rock, my world, my endgame.” ★ rest and peace Relationship established. Kiss Noah Marshall. Fall asleep. In which you stay at home, down with the sickies and Noah tries to be a good best friend but with kisses. [ps. when you're done, listen to this song. thank me later.]

valentine’s day by shreymistry

How you spend Valentine’s Day together. 

again by swansongdive

Tunia Vance didn't believe that the boy wandering around in a red beanie was a murderer. Even as she talks to the ghost of his victim, she doesn't believe it.

★ amen, amen by @littlecrookedheart

[psychological fiction] This takes place 14 years after Jane’s death and roughly 5 years after the events in ILITW. Noah is 22 years old.

another memory by andytomoichi

In the woods, the only thing easier than time to lose track of was memory.

dead and gone by @itspixelberrychoicestime

Being the only one alive, Noah has to face everything he caused. So, what did he do? He ran.

deep run by livon

Sometimes small towns are normal and then sometimes, there are vampires.

ghost pizzas by @skyecrandall

[male mc]  Noah believes that they should try and tame Jane. But will it all go according to plan?

ilitw reunion fic by it-lives-in-westchester

ILITW Gang meets Redfield!Noah again after the events of It Lives Beneath. It's awkward as hell but what did everyone expect 

meet me by the woods by forestfire34720 

“Meet me by the woods. One hour. Tell no one. There’s something you all need to see.” In which Andy, Dan, Stacy, Lucas, Ava, and Lily learn that one friend isn’t quite so unforgivable and another friend may be dead but isn’t lost yet.

the thing about grief by @edeanglory

a look into noah marshall’s grief

lame excuses by somethinginwater

[drabble]  “You use, don’t you?”

★ promises by it-lives-in-westchester

Noah gets caught after attempting to vandalize a house when he was 12, and he has to deal with the consequences idk what else to summarize as it is.

★ seven by anonymous 

He sits alone. Thinking. Thinking far too much. He taps his finger on the table. Sighs. Stares into his coffee, an abyss. One year ago today, seven lives were lost. And he has the blood of all seven on his hands.

untitled? by shreyamistry

Stacy beats Noah the fuCK up! And rest the gang is present. Except for Redfield MC who is in the ruins being sad and lonely and well dead.

anymore i may have missed

⤷ https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Noah%20Marshall/works

[coral-island-player]

Coral Island dlc idea - Pufferfish/evil route

I have an idea for a future update or dlc - one when you can join Pufferfish. Now, I know that what they're doing is evil, but I think if handled correctly, it would be a good addition. Long post, because apparently I can't make short posts like, ever. Also I think if it was a dlc, part of the benefits could go to charity? To show that while you can do evil things there, the devs don't think it's good.

Now, I think with the way the game currently is, you don't have a choice - your character has to be good. Which is great but I don't feel very satisfied with it. Of course my characters are doing good things, they don't have a choice. It'd feel better if I had the choice, you know?

So, in how I imagine it, after the initial cutscenes of Karen arriving at Coral Island and Mayor Connor explaining the situation to you, the next day you encounter Karen. She asks you to join Pufferfish and help them take over the island - I mean, help save it.

If you decline, the game progresses as usual. Only then you get the mysterious dream, the museum opens to you and Ling asks you for help. The only thing that changes is that when you talk to Karen, instead of (very poorly) trying to convince you to join them, she's a bit passive aggressive and upset with you for not joining her side. Maybe slight changes happen, like Karen and Raina having schedules and some more events. Possibly a bit more features, to make the dlc worth it for people who aren't interested in joining Pufferfish. That is, if it's a dlc and not an update.

If you do join her, that's when some things happen. You get some benefits - perhaps you get some funds from Pufferfish? Cheaper things, maybe some free sprinklers once in a while? I don't know what it might be, but basically it's technically easier for you, if you look at it from the benefit point of view. Much easier.

You pay to unlock higher town ranks and benefits you'd get for completing bundles, but as you pay, Karen's plans she tells to the townsfolk are more and more fulfilled. There are more and more oil rigs around the island. You never get the dream, Ling never asks you for help, you don't even get the chance to see the museum because it's immediately turned into the storage. The ocean only gets more polluted, though you get free kelp from the Pufferfish. Who knows what happens to the merfolk? You wouldn't know they exist, same with Giants. You can mine, but you can't free the Giants. The sacred trees get cut down. Maybe the temple gets cleaned and turned into a tourist spot. It's made very clear by the game that you made the morally wrong and selfish choice. And you miss out on so many parts of the gameplay! Maybe instead of enchantments, you get "tech upgrades" from Pufferfish (of course you pay money instead of gems and fossils).

And the townsfolk aren't thrilled by your actions, either. Word spreads fast that you're the one who sponsors Pufferfish and many hold it against you. It requires more points for you to make friends with the characters. The degree of the debuff might vary with some characters, Ling and Surya for example would resent you more than let's say, Mark or Chaem that were never that against Pufferfish to begin with. Some characters might even outright refuse to date you ("I'm sorry, *player name*. But I simply can't date someone who endorses Pufferfish. I hope you understand." Maybe that could be Scott, Surya, maybe Millie? I don't know how many, but some would). In some dialogue they mention how the changes affect them. Everyone's life is generally worse, except for yours which is actively better. Maybe some characters move out, like Ling, Surya, Scott...

Perhaps there are some slight changes on festivals, meaning Tree Planting and Beach Cleanup festivals ("I'm surprised YOU'RE here, *player name*. Last time I checked, you didn't care about the environment did you?").

You never get to meet and befriend the merfolk, obviously. Instead, you can befriend and romance Karen, Raina and Derek (yep, he's romanceable there. Sounds a bit more appealing now doesn't it?). You get heart events, and they're generally likeable characters, and in this path easiest to befriend. Even Karen has a soft side for you and genuinely cares about you, even if she is kinda evil. So are you in this path, though... While Raina and Derek are generally good people, just a bit misguided (possibly also romanceable after reaching town rank A in the good path? So really this path is only necessary if you wanna date Karen or want to speedrun it).

Maybe you do a little good though, like convincing Karen to make the work conditions at Pufferfish a bit better. Or pay to get the amount of trash in water reduced (you don't care about pollution. You just don't like it when you're trying to fish and there are flyers all over the water). But the bad you did still outweighs the good.

So, your life is better. Farming is easier, but everything that makes the island and the game what is is, is gone or destroyed. You feel guilty every time you pass by the place when the trees once were, the temple, or see the oil rigs, or when one of the townsfolk makes another passive aggressive comment to you, or just won't go up that one another heart. It's quite depressing, really. Was it really worth it? It makes the good path more satisfying in contrast, though. Knowing you could do the wrong thing, but didn't.

Maybe I made the consequences too severe, or too light. It is a bit depressing. Feel free to tell me what you think.

[enkisstories]

The morning goes on, with the promise of another warm autumn day being in the making. Twenty minutes before closing time a late visitor to the semi-public pool arrives.

Somehow Hux doubts that Rose will send the guests away even after closing time, and seeing who this latest arrival is, he doesn't even mind.

Armitage: "Corra! Long time no see! How does the Jedi'ing go?"

Corra: "I leave that to Rey and Connor. But they keep the temple open to the rest of us, who follow their own code, even to the Knights. There's no conflict, it's like a dream!"

Amilyn: "Also it's "Senator Arrel" now."

Armitage: "How come?"

Corra: "Batuu being the home of key members of the Resistance and the First Order, and us being one of the few worlds where such a co-existence is actually working, the New Republic decided to grant us a seat in the senate despite the actual number of New Republic citizens being minuscle. I got elected..."

Armitage: "Do you people vote on every little thing?"

Frantis: "Sometimes it seems so, huh? If you ask me, the Resistance and the Republic both are fools. But so were we."

Frantis goes on talking about how he and his Steadfast will protect the planet. His self-perception as a cut above the silly civillians hasn't gotten damaged, thus he is able to deal with his side's defeat and even admit that the First Order had been in the wrong in many instances.

Seeing General Pryde's right hand man of all people mellowed, Armitage wonders what his own place in the new world will be. Rose is still active in politics and they have the horses, but becoming a rancher doesn't appeal to the more academically oriented man at all.

[idlenight]

1 and 2 for the tav's. to get to know them. 👀

Thank you so much for the questions Wonda! I've been dying to talk about my Tav's.

This got quite long, and there's pictures so it's all under the readmore. If you're interested this OC ask game was newly made by my mutual @glitchy-npc

1 - Give a basic run down of your OC. Name, general info, relationships.

Syleth of the Green Knights. A tiefling paladin (and as of recently, a sorcerer) who is sworn to the Oath of the Ancients. He grew up on the streets of Baldurs Gate as one of the many urchins, though when he was twelve he was taken in by a temple of Selune. Syleth felt like he owed them everything, but they didn't treat the tiefling so well. When he came of age and the Moonmaiden had not blessed him to be one of her Clerics, he saw it as a sign from his god that he did not belong in the temple and she was guiding him on a different path. Which is how Syleth ends up becoming a Green Knight.

Stat wise: Tiefling, Paladin(oath of the ancients)/Sorcerer(dragon bloodline), Acolyte background. I'm romancing Astarion with him.

Connor Newsong, similarly to Syleth, grew up on the streets of Baldurs Gate, unlike his friend, the human boy stayed there for a lot longer. Connor did whatever he could to earn money and survive. Which is how he picked up the lute one day. Connor never went to a fancy bard school (not officially anyway, but he has stolen their litrature to teach himself) but he is quite the talented bard. His talents got him off the streets and into a life of adventure. Until the events of the game, he didn't exactly plan on ever returning to Baldurs Gate.

Stat wise: Human, Bard (College of Lore) + Rogue, Urching background. Romancing Gale.

(also yes Connor gave himself that last name when he started his bard career, tbf he was like, 14 at the time)

Lord Lucien Peter Levvine-Rainhold is the son of the human noble Timothy Levvine and the high wizard Ashera Rainhold. Lucien is the youngest child of three, his parents already had 'the heir and the spare' which gave Lucien a lot of freedom as a child. He was thought the manners of the high class and basic magic as was expected of him, but when he ran around in the courtyard pestering the estate guards to teach him how to swordfight he was given that luxury.

Stat wise: Half-Elf, Fighter (Eldritch Knight), Noble background. Romancing Wyll.

As with all games like this where I end up making multiple characters, I like to imagine them all exisiting next to each other in the story. So for my Tav's i've decided they where an adventuring party before they got snatched up by the Nautiloid at the start of the game. There is also a yet undifinied Cleric of Selune that im still workshopping, she's also part of this group.

I don't want to make this even longer so I'm not going into the details of relationship rn sorry 🥲.

2 - What is their physical appearance? What tends to stand out to people who notice them for the first time?

The first thing one would notice of Syleth is probably the whole, tiefling thing. The horns and demonic eyes are kind of obvious. The second thing would be his tattoos or his recently grown in dragon scales (that was a weird thing to wake up to). Syleth mostly wears heavy armor, but in camp he barely wears anything at all besides pants and boots, in fact you're lucky if you even get a fucking shirt on him. (He already hikes around with too many layers and heavy plating you think he's restricting his movements in any way during downtime?)

Most notable about Connor is that he has purple eyes and redd-ish and purple hair. Not the most normal thing for a human, he probably has some elven ancestors in his family (not that he ever had any family, so he can't check). Other than that he's quite tall but definitely not build for combat in any way, one could say his Constitution stat is trash. Connor dresses himself in a very bard-ly way, enough to be classy and eye-catching but also not too extravagant.

Lucien is a mountain of a man, a build he can thank his human father for. Another thing that catches someone's eye is well, his eyes! While he was not born with heterochromia, after the bard Volo poked around with an icepick in his eyesocket he's one magical prostethic eye richer! (that wasn't very smart, but that's his dump stat anyway <3). Lucien might be nobility, but he doesn't exactly dress like it. It's practical armor in the field, and well loved worn casual clothes that he's probably had since he started adventuring.

[starkysa]

Cthulhu setting Assassin's Creed

(If someone wants to use this setting, just take it and write on the source. I'm glad to see anybody use this setting)

Altaïr ibn La-Ahad

Title: God of Sky and Assassination

Attribute: Air

Phase description: It is generally described as a large bird made of eyes, with two pairs of wings and razor-blade legs, and a red ribbon in the tail. It is said that this red ribbon is self-conscious (Ezio: It can strangle other people/great old ones).

Semi-human form: The arms are replaced by a pair of wings, the white fabric clothes on the lower body is looked like tentacled, all the eyes are transferred to the area covered by the clothes, and the blade-like legs are hidden. In general, Altaïr choose to float instend of walking.

Introduction: Fast and ruthless. Altaïr doesn't like water very much. He moves quickly and silently. Many people, including some great old ones, wonder what is under Altaïr' clothes, and there is always someone who takes the risk to pick it open. But no one knows what the result of doing is.

Apparitions: The sky darkens, a lot of air surges, lightning but no rain. (This is more likely in deserts and arid regions)

Symbolic sacrificial articles: throwing knives, hidden blades, several human ring fingers, red silk ribbons, sand, feathers, assassin's markers

Ezio Auditore da Firenze

Title: God of Fertility and Procreation

Attribute: ground

Phase description: Described as a melted black elk with goat eyes(devil eyes), red ribbon wrapped around its neck, and the spots on its back are all eyes, both eyes are goat eyes. The tail is made of fog and is shaped like a foxtail.

Semi-human form: one eye is normal and the other eye is like a goat. Elk antlers and ears are visible overhead without a hood. According to Ezio himself, the shape of the horn can be changed according to his own wishes. His legs resemble those of artiodactyla, retaining a fog-fox tail.

Introduction: Love some fancy things. The human form may be fascinating, but the real is the scariest of all great old ones. Not very fast. It is said that his singing can cause a significant drop in sanity, much faster than listening to Evie speaking. The great old ones or elder gods do not lower their sanity, but will shut him up immediately (Altaïr: His singing is terrible!) Because the tribute will have a lot of fruit, so it may be taken away by other great old ones (" Jacob you stole my tribute!" )

Apparitions: Moist smell emanates from the forest, mist appears, and the environment darkens. There is indescribable sounds from the depths. The trees bear fruit, but they all look strange. Everythings in views look like having a heightened contrast, as well as what will you see while eatening toadstool.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Lace, several newborns, goats, cereal, dairy, eggs, antlers

Edward James Kenway

Title: God of Navigation and Wealth

Attribute: Water

Phase description: Looks like a shark, with tentacles on the belly, eyes on the side, and two fins like flying fish on the back.

Semi-human form: Shark teeth. Keep the fins on his back. All eyes are transferred to the tattoos on the body. The right hand is the octopus tentacle. When out of water, Edward has human legs; When in the water, keep the lower half of the shark's tail. Occasionally wearing a headband instead of a hood.

Introduction: Shipwreck Maker, especially when a merchant ship passes by. Like seeking treasure. He can fly, doesn't fly so much time but can go very high( especially if he is on a boat) Edward is not very fearful like other great old ones(Connor: That's if he's wearing clothes on his upper body), but high physical attacks. Very freewheeling, if you have money, he'll take it all. Connor is his grandson, and his son Haytham was taken to the temple in his time of weakness.

Apparitions: huge whirlpools around sailing ships, shoals of fish, lightning and thunder in the sky accompanied by torrential rain, hallucinations of boats floating in the sky, and hallucinations of barcaroling.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Money and treasure, model boats or ship design drafts, shark teeth, guns, the vocal cords of several sailors

Connor（Ratohnhaketon）

Title: God of Forest and War

Attribute: ground

Description: The largest of the great old ones. It looks like a giant, two-headed Wolf, as tall as a mountain. Each Wolf's head has an upright eye right in the middle.

Semi-human form: Retain Wolf ears, tail, claws, limbs（can change into human arms) and canine teeth. The others are indistinguishable from humans.

Introduction: Looks horrible but actually very gentle. Although looks huge, but mainly physical combat rather than mental attacks (but gigaphobia caution). He is kind with the animals in the mountains and got along well with the other great old ones. Edward is said to be his grandfather, although they look like completely unrelated. Father Haytham seems to have given himself his identity as a great old one, and then become spiritually resistant ordinary people. According to Connor, Haytham's noumenon is also a deep-sea creature. (Actually, Connor wonders how his father didn't turn into an elder God.)

Apparitions: the mountains and everything shake, like an earthquake. People will feel something rolling over their bodies.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: wolf's teeth, bear gall, eagle's skull, oak, Indian tomahawk, blood from humans

Shay Patrick Cormac

Title: God of Deep Sea and Healing

Attribute: Water

Description: He has the body of a cod and the mouth of a lamprey, with a dense mouth of sharp teeth and eyes, and a tentacled neck.

Semi-human form: when not in water, he has legs and hands, eyes on ear fins, and a mask covering the mouth; In the water, the lower half of the codfish's tail is retained, the arms under the cloak become numerous tentacles, and the ear-fins and eyes remain. His face is covered with few fine fish scales, his teeth are sharp and tusked, and his tongue resembled a real snake, can make a hissing sound.

Introduction: A few in number of the great old ones can add the value of santiy(by singing), but see the noumenon will still drop sanity. Some people say that listening to the song still losing the santiy. (Shay: Duh, that's Ezio singing! Cover your ears common people!) He doesn't really like to go ashore, usually look like a swimmer in the water with a swimming ring. He looks very silent, but is actually a chatty person (There is a record of Shay can annoy Edward from the Atlantic to the Pacific). Every time he sees Arno, he feels guilty, and Arno is very confused about this. Although he is a templer, the species classification is still great old ones. The boss at the Templer is Haytham, Edward's son and Connor's father. Though his boss's immediate family are great old ones, Shay had never felt the same in Haytham. When Shay unexpectedly retires to semi-human form on a sea mission, Haytham remains undeterred and warns him to hide his tentacles. Shay, who watches other ordinary crew members shudder, realizes that Haytham is something special after all.

Apparitions: all the fish scatter, a cold feeling from the spine. The cold water is close to freezing temperature, and the body is gradually unable to move.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Lampreys, deep-sea octopuses or King squid, bubbles in trenches, metal signs of templer, bodies mangled by earthquakes

Arno Victor Dorian

Title: God of Vengeance and Mists

Attribute: Fire

Description: The smallest of the great old ones. A chimera like a cheetah, a gazelle, and a peregrine falcon. In addition to the gazelle horns, the head has a pair of horns and a frontal horn. Has a mask, and the mask never taken off. The face behind the mask must not be saw, but from around the mask will spill tentacles. The front half of the body is classified as a cheetah, the back half like a gazelle, two pairs of peregrine falcon wings and two snake tails. All the spots on the body are eyes.

Semi-human form: Retains 2 pairs of wings, 2 tails, and horns can be seen faintly under the hood. Take off the hood and you can see all the corners. He can pull out his mask conveniently, but wear or not to see the mood (basically will not wear).

Introduction: The great old ones who has some conscientious than the others. He will try to reduce the santiy attacks on other creatures, but he doesn't know how to cure the pollutants that have lost their sanity. Arno, although he will control his power, he is still second to Ezio in the speed of seeing noumenon losing sanity value, so please do not to see his noumenon or you want to take a shortcut to life. The fastest great old ones, even a high speed camera can't record. Can summon bats under special circumstances. Have the ability of transfiguration, vision sharing, storage and so on.

Apparitions: A sudden mass of smoke, accompanied by dark red liquid oozing from the ground, chaotic scenes of falling heads and burning flames, accompanied by severe hallucinations.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Baguette, coffee, peregrine feathers and cheetah hair, gazelle horn, human head/skull several, lit late 18th century style candle lantern, smoke bomb, Phantom blades

Jacob Frye Evie Frye

Title: God of Night and Tricks

Attribute: Air

Description: Twin great old ones, are made up of black mist like rooks, can see the mist mixed with eyes. Have the widest wingspan.

Semi-human form: Both have large black wings, ear and tail feathers. The feet are rookclaw. Jacob's eyes are covered with a white ribbon and his right hand is claw; Evie wears a beak mask and her left hand is claw.

Introduction: The god of Trick is also called the "God of looking for trouble", especially Jacob, the favorite thing to do is to pull other great old ones or elder gods fur (if have feather stealing feathers, if have scales stealing scales) more excessive once dragged Arno's tail flying around, finally Arno and Evie together beat him up. Love eyes and shiny gadgets. Can summon a flock of rooks at any time. As noisy as Shay, but maybe even worse. The eyes of the Jacob cannot be seen by humans, or it will lead directly to the loss of sanity; Evie speaking without a mask will slowly lowers the listener's sanity. Evie can be completely invisible when she is static. Jacob is very keen on picking on the elder gods of the templer, and collects feathers and scales from the the templer, as well as the eyes of the human templer (Evie: Jacob even separats the assassin's and temple's fur).

Apparitions: day turns into night, the stars disappear. A large flock of rooks hover overhead to form an eye. An auditory hallucination of hissing.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: things glittering with gold, several pairs of eyes, rooks' feathers, beak masks, cane sword or brass knuckle, collected bottles with the full moon

Bayek

Title: God of Guardian and Yellow Sand

Attribute: Fire

Description: A large cat with three tails. The legs are covered with feathers and appear as eagle claws, with wings on the shoulder blades and hipbones. The wings cannot fly, but they can glide in the air for a long time. There is nothing unusual in the direct view, but when he opens mouth can see the deep emptiness, eyes and sharp teeth.

Semi-human form: Ears and tail exposed, eagle claws and shoulder and crotch wings retained, hands are cat-like. But the mouth is still normal, or covered with an egyptian cotton square.

Introduction: Comparing with other great old ones, Bayek appears to be veracity and normal, and will not do any extra work outside the contract. (Arno: Naming and criticizing the Frye Twins. Shay: So are you.) Comparing with Altaïr, who hates water, Bayek has no special views on water, except that he easily evaporates when he is close to it (Altaïr: You scold?) because he is too good at disguising as normal people, and has no direct sanity attack. He was once thought to be an ordinary magical animal or even an ordinary human, until he was called out in a summons ceremony to confirm that this is a great old one. The oldest known of the great old ones.

Apparitions: sand envelopes the sky with clouds, water evaporates rapidly, the air becomes extremely dry, nearby dry plants will directly ignite.

Symbolic sacrificial articles: Eagle skull, sand, fur from a live purebred Egyptian cat, torches, iron balls soaked in human blood

Some miscellaneous：

It is Altaïr's original idea to become an assassin, and he is the first to put it into practice. The reason is that assassins can kill other invisibly, so that others who die of mental contamination or other strange causes can be blamed on their profession. (Shay: So casual.)

The Brotherhood of Assassins is still normal, but with great old ones worship. All the assassins' leap of faith and other very human things are also the reason for believing in the great old ones. (Jacob: Is it possible that Egio's illegitimate child… Don't stare at me, Evie! I've really been thinking about this!) Some of the assassins who have eagle vision are of the blood of the great old ones, some have made deals with them or are incarnations of the great old ones. The great old ones are in harmony with each other, not in a fire-and-water situation as traditional.

Part of the templer of this worldview is the elder gods, still opposed to the assassins. Shay may have made an exception to join the templer because of his healing skills (Actually he just wants to be at peace between the two powers), while Arno and Connor are relatively virtuous and some of the Temple are more relaxed about them. The temple will cure the pollutants affected by the ancient gods, and prevent them from being summoned, if necessary, the two sides will fight.

The Isu are Outer Gods, but they don't have the Pieces of Eden, and they are currently in a theatergoing state. But what the great old ones or elder gods left behind might be considered hallows (" Have you seen my top hat, Evie?" "Oh, the call table." "Come on, again?) The outer gods and the great old ones don't get along that well.

There are also cases where the three powers make a scene together. For example, Élise De Laserre is actually the incarnation of the elder god, but François-Thomas Germain, who is opposite her, is the incarnation of the outer god. Élise couldn't fight the outer god and then fell into a deep sleep, which was finally destroyed by Arno. (Incarnation fighting incarnation does not do much damage to the original body, so the Élise in this world is not dead, but her strength is exhausted and hibernated. At present, the Arno's incarnation is staying in this world in order to find a way to wake her up)

Great old ones and elder gods are immune to san attacks (Edward: except for Ezio's song, which should be included in physical attacks.) But not immune to mutual physical attacks. (Connor: Give me an arrow and I'll shoot down Ezio's lute.) When their incarnation are templers or assassins, the weapons are made of their own feathers or scales, so there is no issue of replenishing weapons, but sometimes the changes were quite wacky (Ezio: What do you do with my broomstick, I just sweep the leaves in front of my house… What's that? Cesare? Give him a broom!）

Here, the elder gods and the great old ones have the same attitude towards humans as the original, only more indifferent, and they don't have any actions if no one summons them. But Incarnations can walk around at will, so conflicts continue.

When the great old ones and elder gods are not summoned(Giving up of summon outer gods, you can't succeed), there will be incarnations, and the human form is one of the incarnations (semi-human is the appearance of half of the real). They may also become other creatures or objects. Assassins and templar-like humans are the most commonly used Incarnations. Biological Incarnations are unique and do not appear in the same species at the same point in time. Connor, for example, prefers animal incarnations such as wolves, eagles, or bears (but certainly different from normal animals, such as the two-headed wolf and the three-clawed eagle); Arno's preference for humanoid incarnations has something to do with his transfiguration. On rare occasions, Altaïr would dissolve himself into water droplets to observe. (Arno: He lost a bet. Jacob/Edward: LMAO)

[doomanddead]

February Picks

We’ve reached the end of February, darklings, and with the passing of another birthday I’m another step closer to the grave. Here’s what cropped up this month (besides that one snow-white pube…)

— FEBRUARY FUNERAL DOOM —

The album that whispered sweet nothings in my ear this month was Pleroma Mortem Est by Monovoth. I’ve covered this Argentinian drone doom project before, but Monovoth continues to set the bar higher with every release. If you’re looking for a soundtrack to our collective plod toward nothingness, then this is it. 

Clamor Resonat is particularly introspective, with a distant howl drawing ever nearer. This funerary slog has the slowest of builds, but manages to avoid predictability at every turn. When the next note finally drops it’s low and slow enough to satisfy the most discerning doomheads.

Despite its brevity, Somnia stands out with its shimmering guitar tone in the sparse atmosphere. It’s unquestionably one of the most beautiful doom arrangements I’ve heard in a while. 

If Somnia is all lunar radiance, then Denique Mors is the dark side of the moon. This one’s an agonized dirge with an experimental spirit. This gritty offering toys with texture and intensity. Brutal guest vocals by Lindsay O’ Connor help usher us through the gates of hell. 

If you like Dylan Carlson’s sound, but wish it was more ponderous and grim, then this shit's for you. These tracks struggle with their own mortality in a sundowning world. Join the procession, and grab this on Bandcamp before your own lights go out.

— A SWEET DRONE RELEASE —

If dark ambient soundscapes are your thing, then you’ll wave your antennae with glee to know that drone master insectarium just dropped the necrophage emerges divine. Wriggle right into this sonic cocoon as we journey through the lowest moments in life and out the other side. Owlripper Recordings is always generous with their music, so scuttle down to the bottom of the Bandcamp page to find the link for a free download code. 

— SAVORY SINGLES —

Long Beach doom cats O ZORN! have been serving up post-hardcore goodness lately with a string of singles. My favorite has got to be Slow Mood. Like the monster that lives in your bedroom, this brooding earworm skulks in the corner, but its hulking frame is impossible to ignore. I swear you’re going to be humming this shit all day.

February also brought us Bow Down by Detroit’s Temple Of The Fuzz Witch. It’s some properly fucking fuzzed-out blackened doom. It’s thick as tar and absolutely vicious. I want to climb into a vat of this and bathe in it until I turn into the creature from the black metal lagoon. 

Until next time, doom fans.

[i-was-bored-so-this-happened]

Alexandra's Evolution Chapter Twelve: Library Pictures - Part One

Fandom: Primeval Wordcount: 4.4k Warnings: None

Lester struggles to identify the best course of action to get information out of Helen, while Nick, Stephen and Alex adjust to her being back in their lives

Read on AO3 Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Writing Masterpost

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Alex has decided she hates fluorescent lights. It’s an unfortunate coincidence that the entire ARC is lit by them. The break room is the only reprieve, she can switch off the overhead lights in favour of the yellowish strips that line the underside of the cabinets. She’s been sitting there since lunchtime, trying in vain to read a book. The rest of the team is scattered throughout the building. Connor comes and goes. He’s made a good dent in the orange bean bag in the corner of the break room. It’s possible Abby’s gone home, Alex hasn’t seen her in a while. The smell of almost-burnt toast lingers in the air. Tom Ryan knocks on the wall before coming in. 

“Connor Temple,” he hands Connor something small before moving towards the table, carefully avoiding the wire that connects Stephen’s iPod to the wall, “Alex Hart.” a little card, laminated and attached to a lanyard. Her full name is stamped into it, her date of birth, and an identification number. Apparently, she’s employee 038.

“What are you, double-oh-seven?” Connor asks from his corner, unlatching and reclicking the snap of the lanyard. 

“Lieutenant Sharma’s seven. I’m number five.” When she flips the ID card over there’s new information. Blood type, allergies, the stamp that indicates she’s an organ donor. Just a little concerning. Ryan slides into a seat and takes a handful of dry Cheerios from the bowl in front of Alex after she nods permission. “You’re to wear those when on duty, which means in this building and at anomaly sites.”

“Why’s our logo on it?” Connor asks, holding his up to the light to look through it, “Why do we even have a logo?”

“I didn’t design them,” Ryan answers, crunching dry cereal, “Put ‘em on.” Connor makes a wide circle with his hands to drop the lanyard over his head. Alex clips hers to a belt loop. Ryan’s badge, without a lanyard, is already attached to a loop above his chest pocket, like a nurse’s watch. 

“Is Helen talking?” Alex asks. 

“Not much. She’s trying to build a case that she’s been kidnapped.” Ryan sighs when Alex’s head tips to the side,

“Well, she was abducted and is currently being held against her will until she gives up information, that’s pretty textbook kidnapping,” she pauses, “Funny thing is though, missing persons are declared dead after seven years, and her eighth anniversary was this May, so I guess it’s not, really.”

“May? Like, when I told you guys about the anomalies May?” Connor asks.

“Like when you guilt-tripped the professor into a day trip over a single tabloid headline May, yeah.” Alex replies.

“Look where we ended up May.” Connor counters, waving a vague hand at his general surroundings.

“May is not a full stop May,”  Ryan says firmly, “Alex Hart, if Helen wants to talk to you, are you willing to speak to her?”

“No,” she doesn’t even take time to think about it. Connor shifts in the beanbag and repeats her answer questioningly, “She’s not going to be the person I remember. None of us are the people she knew. I…” she pulls her attention from the table to Ryan, “Why, has she asked to talk to me?”

“It’s likely she’ll ask for Nick, use communication as leverage.”

“Has he not agreed to talk to her?” Alex frowns. That’s not like Nick. Ryan sighs again and she understands, “He’s being withheld,” her chair scrapes as it juts backwards, “Tom Ryan, that’s inhumane. She’s been on her own for years, she told Nick that much, depriving her of human contact is…it’s cruel.”

“She’s in Holding Cell Three.”

“Show me.”

The holding cells that Alex didn’t know existed are downstairs, in the section of the building that’s underground. There are even more strips of fluorescent lights to make up for the lack of windows, bringing Alex’s attention to the uncomfortable lump of lead that sits behind her browbone and makes her squint as she passes under each fresh strip of light. Dry socks from her locker slide a little along the linoleum. Ryan clears his throat to indicate that he’s leaving and turns back to the stairs once Nick and Stephen are in sight. They’re out of place in the almost green-tinged hallway, standing in front of a wide panel of glass that must be one-way. Stephen recognises her walking pattern and holds out an arm ready for her. The arm goes around her shoulders and curls Alex into his chest so he can lift his chin to rest on her head. Nick has a tight grip of Stephen’s hand. Alex shifts so she can see through the window.

Clothes from her old life hang off her frame. Nick had made a pit stop at the house to grab a bin bag of clothes for her. She’s lost weight, enough to show. Her cheekbones, her jaw, and her clavicle are more prominent than in any photos they have of her. That blue shirt used to be one of her favourites, patterned with birds. She inspects the seams and shifts as though ants have been sewn into the fabric. She’d been permitted to shower to get the salt and slime off her and her hair is just starting to dry. Threatening to frizz, just a little, but it won’t. It never did, not like Alex’s did. Still does. The scent of the spray she used to spritz before straightening her hair smacks Alex in the face. Vanilla sugar. She’d sit on the bedroom floor and watch Helen put herself together even though she was too old for it, and Helen would play along for the most part. Their hair smelled the same back then. Body Shop shampoo bars, orange and ginger. It was Stephen who would tie her curls back into plaits on a daily basis, though, she reminds herself. Stephen, whose fingers smelled like pennies every Monday morning from the coins he’d pile on the kitchen table. Nick used to get her hair ribbons when they were in their Austen phase. Stephen had woven the black velvet ones into Alex’s twists for Helen’s funeral so he wouldn’t have to worry about her looking tidy for a few days.

She’s looking at the window. She must at least guess that they can see her. That she’s being watched. She’s been cuffed to the table and given enough slack to reach the white plastic cup of water by her left hand. Her shirt and the jeans are from her past but her boots are the same as those she’d worn through the anomaly. Nick hadn’t kept her shoes. Fresh underwear had been provided courtesy of the BHS on their way back to the ARC. Stephen has wound a coil of Alex’s hair around his finger, it tugs slightly when he gets stuck, and she knows Nick is toying with the leather braid around Stephen’s wrist. They’ve formed a chain on this side of the glass, interlinked and soldered strong. Can Helen see their shadows? Is that how she knows where their eyes are to stare so directly into them? Does it hurt to see them connected when she’s alone? No, she’s adapted to being alone, surely. She’s evolved. But that only brings up the question of why she’d been luring Nick in the first place. She’s uninjured, she seems in control of her mental faculties. Nick’s question persists: why now? There are a lot of questions, but that one is at the forefront.

“What’s the plan, Teach?” Alex mumbles into her uncle’s shoulder. Lester wants the intel she has on anomalies and doesn’t want personal lives to overtake the research project, but giving Helen what she wants by letting Nick in would open the door to personal lives and not to scientific information. Nick and Stephen, they need to know she’s okay. That she’s being fed. If they will take the cuffs off her.

“I’ll talk to ‘er. It might be our only chance to get the truth.”

“What if you don’t like the truth?” Stephen asks.

“No one really likes the truth,” Nick says sagely, sliding a finger under the leather bracelet to find Stephen’s pulse point, “The truth actively changes reality. Do we want that to happen?”

“You’re asking that now?”

***

The next time Lester disappears down the stairs to the holding cells, Tom Ryan breaks protocol. None of them are supposed to be down there without Leek and Lester knowing, and they’re certainly not meant to watch this. Alex is at her desk hunched over a crossword. R.E.M are on the radio. Empty boxes are slowly being filled with tiny swirls. 

“Banal.”

“You what?”

“Boring.”

“Gee, thanks.” Alex shifts the position of her legs, which are starting to go numb. Ryan leans his weight on the back of the chair and leans over her shoulder to underline a blank space. When she picks up the pen to print the letters in block capitals Ryan moves closer, head parallel to hers, as though to inspect her spelling and lowers his voice,

“Figured you should know Lester’s downstairs again,” he pushes against Alex’s chair when she tries to scoot back, “Don’t, you’re not meant to know.”

“Then why are you telling me?” she fills in a word that’s been made clear now banal has been written. 

“Leek wanted the three of you notified once Lester was in. Slow and casual, yeah?” He lets go of the chair and leaves the ops room entirely. Alex waits for several seconds, unsure if Ryan’s warning was really warranted but not wanting to risk it, before she leaves her desk. Stephen’s in the ops room too, near the door, and as she passes him she hooks her fingers into the collar of his shirt to take him with her. He doesn’t offer much resistance, only leaning forward to grab his coffee before going with her. 

“Where’s the fire?”

“Downstairs, Lester’s trying Helen again.”

“Where’s Nick?”

“Dunno, call him.” Alex says, tripping down the steps. She has to count the doors she passes, not fully remembering where Ryan had dropped her off the night before without Nick marking the location. Her head turns to each window the same way a lost child looking for her mother in a supermarket checks each aisle. 

She’s there. Helen. Her hair has dried and she is no longer cuffed to the table, but there is a guard at the door Alex can see if she presses her face to the glass. Lester sits with his back to the window. They have both been provided with nondescript cups of tea. Alex finds her pen still in her hand and pushes it into her mouth. Stephen pulls it out and wipes it on his shirt,

“God, how many times have I told you not to chew pens? No, Nick, Alex.” He’s still on the phone. No noise is coming from the room they’re watching, though they can see Helen’s mouth and Lester’s shoulders moving. Alex runs her fingers along the windowsill until she finds a button and tinny speech comes through a small speaker above their heads.

“-you’ll be in here for a rather long time.” The latter half of Lester’s sentence comes through clearly.

“Is there anything in my voice, Lester, anything at all, that makes you think I’ll obey you? Nothing will stop me from doing what I have to do.” The tone of Helen’s voice is unfamiliar. Deceptively smooth to the point of sharpness. Like glass.

“What’s she on about?” Stephen whispers, covering the mouthpiece of his phone as he asks. Alex shrugs and makes a grumbly noise to indicate that she doesn’t know. She’s heard as much as he has.

“How frighteningly ominous,” Lester deadpans, “We don’t want much, we just want to understand the anomalies.” Helen snorts derisively, a sound still familiar to Stephen because Alex does the same thing.

“Do you know what an oxymoron is?” Helen asks. Lester is, as far as the Harts can tell without seeing his face, unfazed,

“What do you want to get out of this interaction, Helen? Besides sanctimonious lecturing?”

“I’ve already told you. I want to speak to Stephen.” The name crackles through the phone at Stephen’s ear at the same time as Helen says it. He mumbles something and hangs up.

“Me?” Stephen asks Alex. He’s whispering again. She looks up at him, searching his eyes to try to discern his internal reaction.

“Stephen?” Lester repeats, “Not your husband?” Helen doesn’t deign to respond, sipping her tea.

“Why not Nick?” Stephen whispers, “We all thought she’d want Nick first. She doesn’t even know he…we…” Alex nibbles at the cuff of her shirt sleeve. 

“So much for not bringing our personal shit to work with us.” She mumbles around the fabric. Stephen exhales noisily through his nose. Clattering on the stairs heralds Nick’s arrival. Nick, whose arm automatically slides around Stephen and whose hand finds its place at his hip. “She wants to talk to him.” Alex says simply. Confusion registers on Nick’s face in a frown,

“Him?”

“Him.”

“Will you go?”

While the new turn of events is being discussed, Lester leaves his space at the table. He abandons his teacup and the small plate of bourbons his body had been hiding. Too far away for Helen to reach. He turns to the window to look at his reflection and straighten his jacket and tie. The latter is cerulean today, patterned with fleur de lis in a slightly shiny thread in order to stand out. The door doesn’t hiss or squeak or creak to announce his arrival, making little more noise than a quiet swish.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I suppose you figured out how the audio works?” in response, Alex points up at the little speaker, and he sighs, “Stephen, would you like to go in?” Stephen nods and swerves past Lester into the room without a word. “I suppose there’s no telling you two to clear off.”

“Nope.” Nick tells him.

“They can’t say I didn’t try.” Lester replies. He puts Alex between him and Nick and clasps his hands in front of him not unlike a choir boy. Alex leans on the windowsill, being careful not to press the button that will cut off audio. 

“Were you waiting outside?” Helen asks. She visibly relaxes. Not a lot, but enough for Nick and Alex to register, leaning back and aligning her arms with those of the chair. 

“We’re concerned,” Stephen says. He’s speaking lightly, carefully. The plate of bourbons slides in Helen’s direction, “They are feeding you, aren’t they?” She picks up a biscuit, inspects it and then puts it back on the plate. “You weren’t set up, I need you to know that. Nick wanted to make sure you were alright and they-”

“Oh, I don’t want your excuses for him, Stephen.” Helen cuts in. She’s breathing rather sharply through her nose.

“Alright, fine,” he’s closing off, settling linked hands on the table, “What do you know?” Someone else is coming down the stairs now, but no one turns to see who it is. Leek, Alex guesses from the creak of new brogues and the presence behind her as he whispers into Lester’s ear. 

“About what?” Helen asks on the other side of the glass.

“The anomalies. You said you know why they happen. You’ve got to deliver.” Stephen explains.

“Right now, why is the least of your worries.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Stephen asks, irritation tearing at the edge of his words. 

“It means that unless you act within the next few hours, a pack of sabre-toothed killers will be rampaging through central London.” 

“Get him out, we’ve got another one.” Lester orders. Leek - Alex was right, it was him - shuffles past the group and into the holding cell. Helen watches him the same way a cat does an intriguing pigeon. Stephen turns to the noise of the door opening, and they can see the clench of his jaw. His response to Leek spawning into the room is well-controlled, and he follows him out without another word to Helen. Once Stephen’s in range, Nick reaches out to rub his arm. 

“There’s a library in Lambeth that’s been having a bit of bother with a stray cat,” Lester announces, “It seems when the RSPCA went in they bit off more than they could chew.”

“The surrounding area has been evacuated without disruption to Waterloo station and, as far as we know the creature hasn’t left the building. There’s an ambulance at the scene already, there has been a casualty.”

“Of you get, before we’re on the dinnertime news for stopping the trains.” Lester waves a dismissive hand. All three heads of Nick, Stephen and Alex turn to him with equally incredulous expressions. Nick points at the window,

“You expect me to just leave her here with you?” he asks. Lester blinks, affronted at the accusation that he might ill-treat Helen. In Nick’s eyes, he already has.

“I won’t speak to her until you get back. She told Stephen more there than she has any of us. Big cat? Sabre-toothed killers? I took my kids to see Ice Age, I know what that means, now go.”

***

Minimal military personnel have been assigned to this incursion. Whether that’s to minimise public panic or to maximise team cooperation it’s unclear. The standard orange traffic cones have been set in a circle around the incursion site, monitored by a few soldiers who are trying to turn away police officers. Alex was not given permission to drive so she bounces out of the back seat of the pick up and skips to the boot to open the gun locker. She claims a pistol and waits for Abby to join her. At present, Abby is the one that is trusted with measuring out sedatives for their dart guns. The others haven’t done the training.

“I’m going to go with the same sort of dosage we use for the lions at the zoo,” she mumbles, holding a syringe at eye-level, “How likely is it to be bigger than a lion?”

“Eh,” Alex wobbles a hand back and forth, “Maybe about fifteen to twenty percent bigger than their modern counterparts. Generally speaking.”

“We can work with that.” Abby, happy with her measurements, begins making up darts. “Two pistols and a rifle?” she checks. Alex nods. Nick doesn’t particularly like guns, and he trusts the others enough to cover him.

“Which one’s mine?” Connor asks, inevitably.

“You don’t get a gun.” Abby reminds him.

“You are never getting a gun.” Alex piles on. In target practice he’d fired three plastic pellets clear past the mark and into her stomach. The training gun had been quickly taken off them before she could retaliate, “You’re a shit shot and you don’t have a license.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.” He gives them a pair of over-enthusiastic thumbs-up and a too-wide smile and dives back into the car for the magnetometer and Geiger counter Alex had managed to wangle out of one of the university professors, an ancient man everyone called Burnie who was the one to teach Alex how each element on the periodic table he could get his hands on burned. Hence the nickname. Connor also pulls out Alex’s bag, which she slings over her shoulder before taking the gun Abby gives her. Out of habit, she checks the safety. As part of a new habit she’s developing, she then shoves it in the side pocket of her bag that’s meant to hold a bottle or some pens or something of the like. At least she doesn’t keep it in the waistband of her trousers like her uncle does, tucking it under his jacket. He can’t really do that with a rifle, fortunately. Abby takes the second pistol and passes Alex a case of darts to slip into her bag. 

“Alright, kids!” Nick gathers his team around him in a jumble of a circle, waiting for Tom Ryan and his two-soldier entourage to join them.

“What’s the drill if a big cat goes for you?” Stephen asks the group at large.

“Uh. Run?” Connor says this as though he’s stating the obvious.

“Connor, do you know what a cheetah is?” Alex asks. Connor rolls her eyes. She sticks her tongue out.

“Even if it’s just a cat that’s escaped from a private zoo or something, lions and tigers can push fifty mile an hour in a sprint if they feel like it.” Abby elaborates, having a little more pity. 

“If it goes for you, you make yourself big and you make yourself loud, alright?” Stephen asks. “Connor?”

“Big and loud, got it.” Connor mock-salutes.

“Remember, it might not be the creature we’re expecting, it might just be a stray the RSPCA can’t handle.” Tom Ryan reminds everyone.

“Or Helen’s right, which you’ll find she usually is.” Nick corrects. Ryan accepts this with a nod. Stephen takes control of strategy,

“Splitting into pairs may be more effective than confronting this in a lump. We have two floors to cover here so four on each floor, two starting at each end and working their way into the middle. Alex, take Connor. Abby, with me.” This is deliberate, splitting up the trio to avoid talking about Helen. Nick even pairs with an unknown soldier to keep himself apart from Tom Ryan.

“What if it’s just a regular cat?” Connor asks, pulling at his gloves as he walks in step with Alex.

“Not allergic to cats, are you?” She hasn’t quite memorised the list of his obscure allergies and intolerances.

“No. Well, not really. Only the ginger ones.”

“What do you mean, only the ginger ones?” Alex asks. Connor shrugs.

“Me nan always had cats and I was fine, but when I was thirteen she had to put Sugarsnap into Battersea because I’d get so itchy.”

“Sugarsnap?”

“Yeah, she had good names. Monty, Pearl, Caesar, Diplodocus-”

“I can guess who picked that one out-”

“-she always called him Dipstick-”

“-really crushing your creative spirit there.”

“Right?” Connor sounds thrilled that someone agrees with him, and it makes Alex laugh. She pauses in front of the building as the others go in and pinches her fingers in front of her face, drawing a line down to her chest,

“Hey, hey, okay, we’re focused. We’re focused.” Connor copies her motion and her breathing, like actors preparing to go on stage. “You stay behind me, you stay quiet, you’re my lookout.”

“Lookout, got it. Are we on the ground floor or upstairs?”

“Uh. Oh.” Everyone else has gone in, and when they push through the doors no one can be seen on the stairs, “Take your pick.”

“You think I’m going to choose stairs?”

“I figured it was unlikely,” Alex admits. She turns in a slow circle to choose a direction to go in. The ground floor of the library holds a café, the check-out desk, a small IT section with a dozen computers and three printers, and the children’s section behind a set of doors painted to look like they’re in a two-dimensional cartoon, “Check out the kid’s books?” Connor agrees with a shrug.

The floor is linoleum, difficult to move over without their shoes catching and making some sort of noise. Not that Connor’s trying to be quiet. He hasn’t quite gotten that idea yet, strolling casually along but making sure to stay a few paces behind Alex. She plants one foot directly in front of the other, mimicking a fox’s walking pattern to the best of her bipedal ability. She shoulders the door open and leaves it for Connor to catch hold of. The children’s section of Waterloo Library is in a square room with shelves no taller than five feet, large board books and soft toys on display along the tops of the shelves. A deep pile carpet disguises any noise Alex and Connor would be making, but neither of them can quite see over the shelves. Leather-covered cubes and circular corduroy floor cushions litter the floor, a few books still left behind from when the building was evacuated. Brightly coloured rubbery chairs with chunky legs are set around squat little tables covered with gingham tablecloths and abandoned pots of crayons with colouring sheets. Decorations dangle from the ceiling panels, flowers made of tissue paper and little lanterns. A poster on the wall declares the room is currently themed after The Secret Garden, all the books on display being about bugs or gardening. It’s charming, even to the university students who have yet to lose the last of their childishness. 

“Aw, cute.” Connor whispers. Alex shushes him, knowing he’s categorically unable to whisper. She moves towards the centre of the square, where the tables are. The shelves form a square sort of spiral, leading an unassuming toddler on a full tour of the room and spitting him out at the centre again. It’s decided that they should follow this spiral. The structure is intuitive, each section holding a clearly labelled subject and each individual shelf rising in age as it does in height: baby board books at floor level and books more suitable for ten-to-twelve-year-olds at the top. Alex and Connor move slowly, the latter in charge of ensuring they’re not being followed, around the spiral. There’s no sight or sound of any sort of animal - or any familiar humans for that matter - until they reach a section that has an adjoining desk, the books dedicated to teaching children how to read. Connor’s hand crawls up Alex’s shoulder and pushes, trying to turn her. She lets him, and they peer over the top of the shelf.

A cat, definitely some kind of cat, is curled up into a kidney-bean shape. Asleep. Its tail covers much of its hind legs, but the size of the front paws can be estimated to be the same size as a dinner plate. Bigger than a regular lion’s paws, surely. It has no mane but there is tufted hair at the scruff of its neck, much like an adolescent male lion would have. The cat stretches, extending its long front legs and proving itself to be male. The mouth opens in a yawn, exposing teeth Alex would guess are five inches long. His eyes open, a deep amber colour, and the pupils contract as they adjust to the level of light in the room.

“Bad news, Connor. He’s ginger.”

[spainkitty]

Shout out to @sillyliterature for tagging me in things!! I love being tagged. Also, I really love and am obsessed with my Lanil (Surana) Lavellan oc. While about 80k of her as the Inquisitor has been written, I've gone down a rabbit hole of "What if Lanil had stayed in the Circles and joined the official Mage Rebellion instead?" so here we go 🤗 My amgry gorl~ living in my head rent free~ I might do this again from my handers/fenhanders fic because I know sillylit loves Anders as much as I do.

So basically this is like Find The Word, but with a phrase instead, or if you don’t have it, something with a similar vibe. The phrase is: This can't be real.

My phase: I don't quite have that in this fic, but I did have "You can't seriously [...]"

.

“You can’t seriously be going without me?” Lanil demanded. Fiona’s mouth twitched, her dark eyes amused. Lanil immediately looked away, scowling as heat suffused her cheeks.

“I am more than capable of travelling to Val Royeaux alone, although I will be taking a few mages with me, if that will assuage your concern,” Fiona said at last. “I do not want to seem as if I’m bringing a fight with me. Pardon me for saying so, Lanil, but you walk into a room like you’re walking into a fight.

“Can you blame me after this year?” Lanil muttered. “So, the Herald… are they really a qunari?”

“She is. I suppose the term is Tal-Vashoth, if the reports are true and she is not of the Qun. It may be impertinent to ask in the same breath I ask for aid,” Fiona said dryly.

Lanil smirked and shrugged. “I doubt a real Qun-loving qunari would let themself be called the Herald of Andraste.”

“I’m still not sure if this is a good idea,” Fiona said with a quiet sigh. “We’ve already seen what little the Chantry is able to do for us." She waved in the vague direction of… out there, where, yes, rebels that refused to join Redcliffe tore up the countryside, but also where roving packs of violent Templars wandered and cut down any mage or mage sympathizer, violent or not, they happened to see. “And both the Right and Left Hand of the Divine are heading this Inquisition.”

“The late Divine. But... Connor did say Arl Teagan told him that a former Templar is their Commander, too,” Lanil said with a grimace. Fiona’s lips pursed slightly, eyes narrowing. “A Templar from Kirkwall.”

Fiona pressed fingers to her temples. Lanil, as always, couldn’t help but be impressed by Fiona’s control. She herself would have at least cursed out loud by now. Lanil wondered if Fiona had always been able to do that, or was it something she made herself learn?

“Perhaps Linnea is right,” the Grand Enchanter whispered. Her eyes caught on the warrior statuette and she took it in hand again, rolling it between her palms. “How many more refugees have come this week?”

“About a dozen, and maybe three are actually capable of helping defend the keep. The only mages with any sort of combat skill are out in the fucking hills making it worse for everyone. We need to stick together or we’re all going to be hunted and cut down like nugs at this point,” Lanil snarled, lightning crackling at her fingertips.

“Or perhaps we’ll let you loose on the Templars and apostates alike so you might glower them into submission,” Fiona teased. Her voice was weary, quiet, but her dark eyes gleamed. Lanil glared at the nearest wall and crossed her arms over her chest. Her mouth was twitching, though, and her heart felt lighter. “The general opinion? Any increase in Tevinter sympathies?”

Lanil groaned and rolled her eyes upwards. She knew Fiona bringing up Linnea didn’t bode well. “Yes, all right, there are more people pushing for sending word to Tevinter, but it’s definitely not the majority. Linnea is two seconds away from running for the hills and going staff-happy on the countryside herself, don’t listen to her, Grand Enchanter. We don’t need them. They’re slavers.”

“And so many of us are elves…” Fiona frowned. “Our choices are a heretical Chantry organization and a mage-friendly slave nation. We’re not even sure either would help.”

“You need to get the Arl to contact the King,” Lanil said flatly. Fiona’s eyes flickered towards her and away. “He put us here. He promised us aid.”

“He promised us shelter. He did not promise us soldiers.”

“Then, ask for them! Fuck the Chantry, or Inquisition, whatever, and fuck the Vints, too. Do you think the King and Queen would give us Redcliffe just to let the Templars burst in and slaughter us!? The King obviously cares a little. Wynne was his advisor for years, Orzammar has its own Circle and the King and Queen refused to break the alliance with King Bhelen to support an Exalted March, and Anders…” Fiona raised a hand to stop her, but Lanil barrelled on anyway, “The Warden-Commander, King Alistair’s well-known friend and advisor, made Anders a Grey Warden. She protected him! Not only that, she’s an elf. They appointed an elf a Bann of the Denerim Alienage. They care about mages and elves both. The King is our best bet and you--”

“Surana, be silent.”

Lanil’s mouth snapped shut. It wasn’t often Fiona used that tone of voice, and it never failed to send prickles down Lanil’s spine. Instantaneous obedience. Silence fell hard between them and fire crackled in the fireplace. Fiona’s fingers curled around the statuette she held, enveloping it in her fist.

“Let us see how the Herald responds to my invitation first. I’ll return from Val Royeaux as swiftly as I am able,” Fiona said decisively. There was no arguing with that tone. Lanil inhaled and exhaled roughly through her nose. Fiona smiled and crossed the room. Gently, she cupped Lanil’s face in her hands, dark eyes tracing over Lanil’s features and meeting her stormy grey glare. “Mon petite tempête, you will take care of our people while I am away.”

“Of course,” she grumbled.

[simonjadis]

Honestly I feel like the games *tried* to make templar-siding a viable or sympathetic option. Tried too hard. But at the end of the day, no matter how likeable some of the characters are, there’s just no way to complicate things enough that siding with the (at best) internment camp guard faction is the right thing to do

I don’t really believe in “grey morality” in general but I do think that the games do some complicated decisions very well. In Origins, the decision of what to do with Connor Guerrin, for example. And the decision of whether to allow Brother Genitivi to leave Haven alive now that he knows about the temple. Complicated decisions where any choice has ups and downs

Another good example is probably Bhelen vs Harrowmont, though sometimes that comes down to which Origins a person has played before and whether they let that knowledge impact their Warden’s decision-making

CONFESSION:

I’ve always wanted to do a complete pro-Templar anti mage playthrough. Like murdering the mages in the tower in Origins and so on.

But it means I’d have to be mean and I can’t do it. I had one of my hawkes out of 9 side with the templars and man I felt so so bad. Idk if I could do an entire playthrough, I’m just too soft hearted

:( lol

[late2000shistoricalreenactment]

Okay so long post but heres what I got on @i-was-bored-so-this-happened s random generator:

Nigel Marven gets killed by a creature from the future, spicing it up a bit,diversifying his portfolio, also Caroline character development? you love to see it folks.

Honestly they would either work amazing together or get absolutely nothing done. Unstoppable object meets immovable force.

Sarah doesn't fucking deserve this shit tbh. She hates bugs and Christine so there's comedic potential in how terrible it is I guess. ALSO HOW'D THE BUGS GET ALL THE WAY BACK THERE???

Claudia spends her well deserved holiday trying her hardest not to murder Connor. Connor desperately trys to hide a flock of tiny flying porg bastards from Claudia.

Local Mr ohair lookalike causes havoc while being chased through the celebrations by a very tierd military guy. In other news: the dinosaurs are now Muslim.

Philip and Abby chase a dinosaur as fast as they can in a campervan all while arguing nonstop. I think they'd probably make a really effective team if they could actually agree on a plan.

Either they would come up with a great, super efficient plan and get it done easily, or blind panic. No in-between.

Tom's fucked. He's dead. He's so super dead. However he's probably seen Jaws a bunch so maybe he'll manage to survive the megalodon. However he's probably either going to die of murder, shark, or being ginger in a hot place.

... What?

[godsmuses-archive]

Children ought not to be victims of the choices adults make for them.

Wade Horn

[misscrazyfangirl321]

primeval, whatever ships you like, flowershop and or librarian au? (also help tumblr is cutting me off my asks. I'LL BE BACK.)

1. James Lester runs the local city library. It’s a very old and beautiful library, and he takes great pride in his position. It serves as a research hub for some of the most clever minds in the world. 

2. Abby Maitland is the children’s librarian. She’s always cheerful and enthusiastic, and has a real gift for working with kids. Her personality is a bit more... Enthusiastic than James would prefer, but she’s good at her job, so he supposes he can tolerate it. (Spoiler alert: he definitely ends up treating her like a daughter.) 

3. Connor Temple didn’t really want to babysit his nephew the first time, but he agreed to do it, and ended up taking him to the local library’s story hour to keep him entertained. Unfortunately, Connor found it much more interesting than his nephew, mostly because of the lovely children’s librarain. This is unfortunate because A) Connor has no children of his own, and B) After a certain sugar rush incident he’s now banned from babysitting his nephew. So he’s really low on excuses to keep visiting Abby. (That doesn’t stop him from trying, though.) 

4. Jess Parker and Emily Merchant are research librarians. Their focus is on collecting and preserving information for their special collections. Emily prefers dusty old books, while Jess prefers her keyboard, but they’re both stellar at finding information. 

5. Becker is the local police officer who gets called in every time something illegal happens at the library (you’d be surprised how often he gets called), and along the way, develops a bit of a crush on one Jess Parker. There’s a running bet about what his first name is, but he refuses to tell. 

6. Matt Anderson isn’t actually employeed by the library. He just showed up one day and started acting like he worked there, and no one’s quite sure why. He’s definitely up to something, but he’s an incredibly hard worker, and James is getting free labor out of the deal, so he doesn’t push the issue, just tells his employees to keep an eye on Matt. (No, Emily, you don’t have to keep that much of an eye on him.) 

7. Sarah Page is a librarian’s assistant, working on her Masters. Her area of study is folklore and fairytales, and she knows off the top of her head countless obscure stories. Her boyfriend, Danny, is a motorcyle-riding agent of chaos, and nobody’s quite sure how or why that works, but it does. 

8. Jenny Lewis handles PR, does media events, and generally spreads the word about things happening at the library. She looks unnervingly similar to a previous employee, but if you value your life, you won’t mention that. 

9. No one talks about the last group of employees: Stephen, Nick, Claudia, and Helen. Only Connor, Abby, James, and Jenny met any of them, and they never say their names. 

10. Supposedly, James’ wife runs the flower shop next door. There’s a running gag throughout the story where no one ever sees her; every time one of them stops by, someone says “You just missed her,” or “It’s her day off.” 

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 13/?)

Chapter 13: Shattered Porcelain

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

Author's notes:

There are a handful of android medical procedures in this chapter. Could be uncomfortable if you're squeamish. I'm not an expert with the lore. So, I tried to have it fit with DBH's android anatomy; but, if I'm being honest, I pretty much made this up as I went along.

Also, this chapter is super cheesy with lots of cameos.

...

...

...

The place Connor brought you to was a rundown building that looked like it was an apartment complex once upon a time. The sight left a sinking feeling in your gut, mainly because androids were living in this squabble and there was nothing you could do about it.

You followed behind Connor, who had a death grip on your hand. He was likely more afraid than you were. You placed your free hand on his shoulder to try to urge him to relax. You were ready to tell him as such; however, when you crossed the threshold into the place he called 'Haven', the words died on your tongue.

The floor was bare concrete and the walls were decades behind on a much-needed paint job. The place somehow had electricity, likely from a makeshift generator. At the least, there were some functioning lights; but, they were all covered in dust with dead bugs lining the interior fixtures.

The androids had cleared out the center to make room for the supplies Kamski had wrangled up. They were neatly organized across several crates acting as tables. As soon as you stepped in with Connor, many eyes landed on you, ranging from nervous to distrust.

Their states ranged from pristine to chipped to severely damaged, limbs missing, sauntered poorly to prevent thirium loss. Many of them had stitched together mismatched parts to try to regain some semblance of order. You couldn't imagine what that must have felt like.

You nudged at Connor's forearm until he got the message and let go of your hand. He remained close, his presence looming and protective.

Markus was quick to make himself known. "Thank you for all of this," he said, gesturing to the supplies in the center of the room. "Really I... I don't know how to properly thank you."

"I-it wasn't from me," you said, feeling nervous. "More of a messenger, really."

Your eyes swept the floor, where some androids stared at you with abandon and others were trying not to stare. You swallowed nervously, not knowing where to start, if any of them even wanted you touching them.

Some androids had already taken to the supplies and were patching each other up. Androids might have been more knowledgeable about their own anatomy than humans often were of themselves; but, not all problems were simple.

An android pushed his way through the crowd and approached you with haste.

"It's you," he said, a beaming smile on his face.

You and Connor recognized the android immediately. He had been driving a Cyberlife supply truck that was attacked by protestors. You had pulled him out of the wreckage and saved him.

"When they said a nurse was coming, I was hoping-" he cut himself off, sounding choked up and excited. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead," he proclaimed. His words eased the tension that had been building up inside you and left you bubbling with pride. You didn't know what to do but to smile at him.

"C-can you-" he stammered. "We have someone who's very damaged."

"I'll do my best," you replied, trying to mask how nervous you felt. You squeezed at the handle on your shoulder bag, the weight of your tools suddenly feeling much heavier.

The android ducked back into the crowd with haste.

You were shocked when he returned with another android in his arms. It was immediately obvious to you that the android was shut down. He was limp, eyes open and staring ahead blindly, LED on his temple off, a stoic expression on his face.

He was an WR600 model, still wearing his factory default uniform. However, he had a tarp wrapped around his shoulders, wearing it like a poncho.

The artificial skin on his hands and wrists had been scraped down to the android shell beneath. He had a gaping wound on his right forearm that went beyond the shell and exposed the membrane beneath. It was pulsing blue, indicating he was still functioning.

You followed them to a makeshift table, where the android set the WR600 model down carefully. As you maneuvered around to get a better look, the left side of the unconscious WR600's face came into view, and you audibly gasped.

Someone had struck him, hard, multiple times, across the face. His jaw was indented, skin scraped off to expose the pale white shell underneath. The cuts were so deep that the blue membrane beneath was exposed. Cracks split out from the gashes, like shattered porcelain.

The damage had shattered the protective sheathing on his right optical. Thirium had leaked into it, staining the entire eyeball blue. The gashes ran up into his hairline and one ran low enough to split at the corner of his lip.

You had seen androids looking far worse than this before; but, still, you never got over it.

"W-what-" you stammered, silencing yourself when you realized how pointless it was to ask.

It was obvious what had happened.

"Why is he powered off?" you asked hesitantly, looking up at the android who had carried him over to you. Your first assumption was that something was very wrong with him.

"We had to force him offline," the android replied, not looking proud of that. "He was... erratic."

You wondered if he meant the android was erratic when he heard a human was coming, or if he was always like that. Considering the damage, you wouldn't have been surprised if it was the former.

"I - uhm," you stammered nervously. "I need someone to be his guardian - to consent to this, since he can't. Are you close?"

The android looked uneasy, but also touched by your words. "He's not close to anyone."

You swallowed nervously and did your best to keep your gaze off the room and focused more heavily on the WR600. You hadn't worked on an unconscious android since before the revolution. The thought made your stomach churn.

Sensing your frustration, Connor approached you. His concerned face came into view in the corner of your eye.

'You don't have to do this,' is likely what he was going to say.

Not wanting to give him the chance, you said, boldly, "I'm okay, Connor."

He looked uneasy for a moment, LED solid yellow, as he tried to fight himself on this. You being here made him really uncomfortable; but, he knew how much this mattered to you. Part of him also knew that these androids needed this. It wasn't just for repairs, but to give them some hope that humans like you existed in this world.

When Connor stepped away, you rotated over to the powered off WR600.

"What's his name?" you asked as you set your bag down carefully and unzipped the top.

"Ralph," the android who had carried him over answered.

After pulling out some tools, you reached around the back of Ralph's ear to open his access panel. With a heave, you lifted him by the shoulder to gain access to his upper back and easily found the release for his skull.

His appearance was alarming; but, you were more concerned with the high possibility of damaged internal components.

As expected, one of Ralph's processing units was cracked. The good news is that it was a common model, and one that Kamski had supplied dozens of.

You investigated his eye next. As soon as you opened the socket, thirium leaked out and spilt all over the table. It wasn't enough to concern you, and you carefully removed his optical unit. Upon a closer inspection, you were confident it was still operational.

With a free hand, you yanked a clean container out of your bag to set the optical unit it so you could investigate the sheathing. The gold platers on the connector were still intact; but, the sheathing closest to his temple was cracked. Luckily, it could be repaired the same way you intended to repair the dents on his face.

It was less preferable than completely replacing the shell pieces; however, you didn't have access to any of those. He would have very noticeable scars. You hoped, at least, they would be more preferable to an exposed membrane.

For a moment, you set your tools down and scurried along the line of android parts until you located a box containing processors. Ralph's was easy to locate and was the first thing you replaced on him.

With that complete, you pulled more tools from your bag and a small ingot of android skin. You started with the protective sheathing around the eye before slowly, carefully filling in the cracks in his face. You did your best to match the contours of his cheek bones and jawline, suddenly feeling more like a sculptor than an engineer.

Connor tried to give you space while you worked. He was far enough away to not hover, but close enough to get to you quickly, if needed. You were too focused to notice, thankfully.

"Do you remember us?" a soft, feminine voice beckoned to him, startling him out of his trance.

Two female androids stepped into his peripheral. They were WR400 models, one with long, dark blue hair, and the other with very short, light brown, almost red hair.

Connor didn't immediately reply; but, the look in his eyes gave them his answer.

They were the Traci models who had escaped the Eden Sex Club last winter. The last time he saw them, they were running away, hands cupped tightly together. They looked much the same today, hands still tightly intertwined, the same look of adoration on their faces.

"You had a clear shot," the short haired Traci stated. "I know you did, several times; but, you let us go."

"I-" Connor stammered, finding himself at a loss of words.

Back then, he didn't understand their behavior, why he couldn't bring himself to shoot them, even when they had their backs turned, why Hank looked so impressed - proud - when he let them go. He didn't understand how they could find comfort in each other, why they were afraid of losing of each other, of not being able to hold and touch again.

He had changed since then - changed a lot, in fact.

Now, he understood.

"We're grateful," the blue haired Traci said, standing so close to her partner that their shoulders touched. "We're still together because of you."

"I didn't do anything worthy of praise," Connor said lowly, his eyes expressing the turmoil in his thoughts.

"Even if you don't think so, we know what you did," the short haired Traci declared, expression soft on her face.

"You understand, now," the blue haired android stated boldly, briefly turning around to steal a glance at you. It didn't go unnoticed, the way Connor gripped your hand when you entered the building, how he stared at you protectively while you worked.

Strangely, he didn't feel scrutinized by the two female androids. They seemed... happy for him.

He nodded silently, at a loss for what to say to them, and the two ladies departed, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

He thought about what they had endured, having to be used by strangers, by people who didn't think of them as living beings. Up until that moment, when they jumped the fence, they lived a life where they were believed unfeeling. They would return to one and other's arms to try to find solace in what consisted of their lives: play things for humans.

Connor thought about how strong they were, that they could endure that for so long.

He couldn't bear the thought-

If anyone dared tried to touch you, he would-

You were still hunched over the WR600 when Connor wretched himself from his thoughts before they wandered into territory that should probably be alone.

You had opened the android's forearms, trying to determine if any wires were damaged. Feeling inspired, Connor huffed softly and trotted over to you. You were so focused that you didn't see him coming and gasped when his hand came into view.

"G-geez, Connor," you scolded him softly, catching the sight of his freckled face in the corner of your eye.

He reached into the android's exposed wiring, his artificial, human skin, fading away. "I'll stimulate the wires so you can determine which are defective," he explained.

In the corner of his eye, Connor could see you smile. "That would help a lot. Thank you."

He sent jolts along the lines. Ones that worked properly gave a response, a very subtle twitch of the hand on the powered off android. Ones that didn't gave no response. They were not major, which meant the use of his hands wouldn't be completely severed; but, his movement would be limited, gestures abrupt or sporadic.

Sometime later, with Connor's help, you had replaced seven wires on one hand and four on the other.

You had enough material to at least cover the exposed membrane on his wrists; but, you didn't have enough to fill in gaps where the artificial human skin was lost. At the very least, you could protect the android muscle tissue.

Connor watched you fill in those wounds in silence, knowing he couldn't do much else. When that was done, you retrieved a saline wash from your bag to cleanse Ralph's eye before carefully returning it to the socket.

"Alright," you sighed, patting your hands together. "That's... all I can do for now."

A couple androids gathered around, one reaching for Ralph to prop him up. "Wow. You did all that without a replacement shell?" one of them commented, the awe in their tone making your heart flutter.

The way they admired the WR400 made you feel something sickeningly sweet. The scars on his face were noticeable; but, the fine cracks were filled in well enough to almost be seamless, unless the light hit just right. The fibrous material beneath his android skin was covered fully. His artificial human skin was mostly intact, minus his hands.

All you could hope was that he would like it. The damaged processor could cause speech issues and potential lapses in judgement; however, his behavior, as described by his fellow androids, was likely a developed trait from trauma. You knew you couldn't fix that, only hope that a new processor would aid his recovery.

Connor stepped between you and Ralph as they powered him on. You moved around Connor, trying to push him out of the way. You wanted to see him wake up, wanted to see life blossom into his hazel eyes.

It didn't blossom, per say, but he suddenly jolted forward and twitched, eyes bright and wild, suddenly very much awake. He looked around hastily, annoyance immediately appearing on his face.

"How dare you power Ralph off-!" he whined loudly, pushing against the hands that held him. They let go at his protest, but remained close as a precaution.

Suddenly, Ralph stopped, looking down at his arms. He gasped, rotated his limbs around to examine them. His hands slid over opposing arms, touching the spots you had filled as if he doubted what his optical processor was showing him. His mouth hung agape and his eyes were wide and bright.

"Ralph's hands are-" he stammered, staring at them in wonder and disbelief.

He realized, faintly, that he could see properly again out of his left eye. Ralph's dominant hand rose and he touched his face, eyes shifting away from you and staring into a random direction. He gasped when he felt the scars left behind from the work you had done.

After that, he recognized a firmware update reading on his HUD, and realized one of his processors had been replaced - the very one that he painstakingly ignored for months, his HUD constantly giving him warnings about how the unit was in imminent failure and needed to be replaced.

Suddenly, Ralph looked up and scanned the room hastily. His eyes landed on you and he froze. You were wearing scrubs and had some thirium stained on your hands. It was an obvious conclusion to come to.

"A - a human...?" he asked lowly. "No - no human would help Ralph - me... me..." he uttered, seemingly to himself. He looked down at his hands resting on his lap.

You didn't know what to say to him, if there was anything you could say that he would possibly want to hear. He seemed more confused than anything else.

"She did, Ralph," one of the androids offered softly, their hand falling onto the blonde android's shoulder cautiously.

He looked up at you again, his lips moving slightly in what appeared to be an unconscious, nervous tick. "Humans wouldn't without - without a reason," he uttered.

The android twitched when he saw your hopeful expression shift and sadness reflected in your eyes.

"R-Ralph didn't mean-" he stammered, lowering his head. His hands came up and gripped the sides of his skull, the touch a little rough, but not enough to hurt himself. "-didn't mean to be ungrateful," he choked out.

"It's okay," another android urged him gently.

Ralph avoided looking at you again. He made a movement to stand and the androids huddled around him backed up. He rose to his feet, stealing a glance at you over his shoulder before shuffling away and disappearing into the crowd. It was hard to make clear of his expression; but, to you, it looked like guilt.

You didn't blame him, or hold any contempt, not even for a second. He likely had never been shown the slightest bit of kindness in his short life.

"Thank you," one of the androids said softly, approaching with you a smile. "He may not show it, but..."

"It's okay," you replied, sincerely. "I understand."

Not long after Ralph departed, a TR400 android approached you, asking if you could examine his left eye. After popping the optical unit out and verifying it was undamaged, you noticed one of the connector pins was bent.

"I don't have a replacement connector; but, I have a soldering kit if you trust me?" you asked him. He seemed grateful that you were willing to try more so than anything else.

It took a little while, as you were slow and careful. But, it was worth it to have the optical pop back into place with a soft click and to see the android blink carefully. He looked around, iris shifting subtly in his eyeball as his vision adjusted.

"It's working now," he chirped, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile.

"I'm glad," you replied softly. You meant it, really. It was always a risk to attempt to fix connectors yourself; but, you had some pride in knowing that you were usually successful.

Right as the android left, a WB200 hesitantly approached you, one hand cupped over his opposite elbow in a nervous gesture.

Before he could get too close, Connor startled you when he suddenly grabbed you by the arm and yanked you back, pulling you behind him and stepping into the space between you and the other android. He glared down at the smaller android, who put up his hands defensively.

"Con - what are you-" you squeaked, nearly tripping over your own feet as the android pulled at you.

"Please, wait, I-" the WB200 pleaded, his voice low and frightened. His hair was short and messy and he had a very boyish face that matched his voice. "I'm sorry about what I did, I - I just couldn't let you catch me."

A little annoyed, you pushed at Connor's sides and stepped around him.

"He's dangerous," Connor warned, eyes not yet moving from the other android. You gawked at the detective, recognizing the distrust in his eyes, before moving your gaze to the WB200. He looked afraid of Connor, and it became immediately obvious that they had history.

"I'm sorry - I mean it. If you caught me, I would've been sent back - and - and destroyed - I - I was scared," he insisted.

He had pushed Hank off the roof in order to escape being captured. If Connor hadn't gotten there fast enough, Hank might have fallen to his death. The android had good reason to be afraid. Connor knew that; but, if he was willing to risk a human life-

The detective was taken aback when you nudged past him and approached the android.

"What's wrong?" you asked him softly, ignoring the hole Connor was burning in the back of your head with his stare.

"I - ugh-" the android stammered, startled by your insistence and still intimidated by the detective android. His eyes flickered away from you for a second, giving Connor a worried look. "My - my right leg. I damaged it when I fell."

You stepped back and the WB200 demonstrated. He took a few steps and you could see the awkward way his leg moved. It was clearly unnatural, and shifted in a way that would have caused a human a great deal of pain. The leg also made an unpleasant creaking sound with each step, crying out in protest from the pressure.

"Lay down please," you asked, gesturing to the makeshift table Ralph had been laying on a moment ago. As he did, you explained, "I - I'm sorry, but, you'll have to undress."

"I understand," he replied lowly, struggling to meet your gaze.

He was wearing a scraggly pair of jeans, likely taken from a dumpster, and a hoodie. He peeled his pants down his legs, wearing nothing underneath. WB200's were designed for manual labor, typically farming or light maintenance. You weren't surprised to find he lacked any male anatomy.

Before you had to ask, he opened the access panel covering his knee, which allowed you to look inside at the wiring, artificial muscles and bones.

"The knee joint is out of alignment," you stated, trying to examine his knee without touching him just yet.

"May I?" you asked, holding your hands up to show what you were requesting. He nodded, lips thin and eyes not hiding how nervous he was.

You pulled back the shell loosely covering his knee to take a better look at the artificial muscle that allowed proper leg movement. He had abandoned maintaining a human skin tone on his leg; or, that function had been damaged when he fell. His skin tone ended at his waist and he was factory default white below.

You stepped away from him briefly to locate some pliars.

Connor had stepped back to give you space, but was still watching, now more so out of amazement than worry. You were absolutely fearless. It simultaneously impressed and infuriated him. You also were ignoring him fiercely.

"What's your name?" you asked the WB200 when you returned to the table.

He gave you a look, suggesting he was contemplating not answering.

"...Rupert," he eventually said, swallowing roughly afterward.

"Rupert, we don't have these parts; so, I'm gonna see if I can fix the alignment myself. We'll have to follow at the hip joint afterward to manually reset the alignment. It will likely hurt," you explained carefully.

"I'm not afraid," Rupert blurted boldly.

"That's good," you responded, reaching behind yourself to yank a chair in closer and plop down before digging into his knee.

You were so focused on the joint that you didn't hear the commotion going on around you, not until some music started playing. You paused for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden melody.

You tossed a look over your shoulder and saw that someone had arranged some pieces of equipment to fashion together a radio. "That'll liven the place up," one of the androids proclaimed proudly, admiring her work proudly.

Once, it might have been a funny thought to imagine androids enjoying music. Hearing their excitement over the piano, bass, and gentle drum brought a smile to your face. It was jazz, soft and relaxing, with no vocals. Something so subtle so drastically changed the atmosphere in the room.

"Okay. I think I got the joint back in place," you declared, standing up and smacking the sheathing back into place. Rupert had been hyper focused on you the entire; when you shifted your gaze from his knee to his face, he looked more relaxed than when you had started.

"Can you open your hip?" you requested, standing at his waist. He nodded, lifting his hoodie to his ribs. His skin faded whilst the panel opened. Manual joint alignments required calibrations at the base for most models. Few could do it automatically. Rupert unfortunately was not one of those models.

"Ready?" you asked, gently pushing back the fibrous, artificial muscle to reach the joint panel.

"Yes," he replied immediately.

You pinched the reset key. His leg twitched and Rupert let out a bizarre, staticky sound, clearly one of pain. The alignment seemed to go off fine; but, his power conductors were likely not state of the art, as expected for his model type. The power traveled from his chassis to the joint and gave you a little shock.

You yelped and let go, stepping back. Rupert looked at you, eyes wide with fear..

"Just a little shock," you explained quickly, trying to relax him. "It's normal."

He relaxed and moved his leg around a little. "Wow," he wheezed. "Feels better - much better." With haste, the android pulled his clothes back on and shimmied off the table and onto his feet to test the alignment. He seemed excited as he bounced around on his heels.

"I - thank you - thank you," he stammered out nervously.

You nodded at him with a smile. "Of course, Rupert."

You turned away from him to set your tools back into their proper positions, just so you wouldn't lose them later. As you did, you heard him give Connor parting words.

"I am sorry - I mean it," he said quietly. If the detective android replied, you didn't hear what he said.

Connor was faintly aware of the high possibility that you were irritated with him in that moment; however, that didn't stop him from approaching you and offering a water bottle, bringing it into your peripheral.

You had forgotten that he took the time to pack a backpack with water and food for you. You were prepared to come here with nothing; but, the android had taken the extra step to make sure you had something.

He really made it impossible to be mad at him for two seconds-

"You should take a break," he suggested softly as you chugged the water enthusiastically. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were until that moment. Leave it to Connor to be more attentive to your needs than you.

"I'm fine," you gently retorted.

"You've been going nonstop for almost four hours," Connor insisted.

"I'm fine," you said again, a little firmer than last time.

His hand fell onto your shoulder. "Please?" he requested. Connor stepped around, right in front of you, and offered his hand in a gesture that you recognized, but you had never seen directed at yourself.

Judging by the look on your face, you definitely didn't expect that from the android in that moment. You gawked at him stupidly and Connor looked back hopefully.

The music was quite fitting for that, but, still, you felt nervous.

"I-" you cut yourself off, looking conflicted.

"Am I in the doghouse?" he asked softly, almost uncertain.

Connor couldn't help but crack a grin at the way your eyes lit up and your lips twisted into a smile. You choked on a bubbly laugh at his tease.

"No," you huffed, delivering a gentle smack to his shoulder. "I just - 'm not graceful, at all, and never really..."

You took his hand anyway and the android cupped it and placed his other hand on your waist, pulling you in gently. He took note of the faint blush on your cheeks, blissfully aware that he really liked that look on you.

"I didn't know you liked to dance," you offered quietly as your free hand fell onto his shoulder.

It wasn't so much of a dance as it was two bodies swaying to a melody. But, you were close, close enough that your torso was touching his chassis, and it felt nice, comforting. You didn't really move, but more so followed the sway Connor had set.

"I don't know if I do," Connor said honestly. "I just wanted to, with you."

As always, Connor was full of surprises. Sometimes, you had to scold yourself for thinking that you knew everything about him, only for him to go and prove you very, very wrong.

"I like the music," he added on.

"Yeah," you agreed, breathlessly.

You liked the music. That much was true; but, it was hard to think straight when Connor was so close and looking at you like that.

-like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

-like nothing else in this world mattered.

His hand, that had been on your waist, shifted around so that his forearm cupped your lower back. He dipped you back, gently forcing you to arch, and you let out a surprised sound. When he pulled you back up, he looked way too proud for forcing that noise out of you.

"Brat," you huffed against his neck. You were glad he didn't apologize, because he didn't look sorry at all.

You lost track of how long you did that. The world seemed to dissipate in that moment. You weren't in an abandoned apartment complex on the industrial side of town, surrounded by damaged androids.

But, then, Connor leaned down slowly, a gesture you were quite familiar with. He gave you a second to protest or turn away. When you didn't, he carefully slotted his mouth over yours, and you suddenly, very fiercely remembered where you were. Yet, that knowledge didn't stop your eyes from fluttering shut or your heart from hammering away in your chest. If anything, it amplified it.

It was a suave kiss, almost chaste. Still, he had done it in front of all these androids. When you parted and looked up at him, his eyes met yours and they said, 'I just had to'. You couldn't bring yourself to be upset with him, or to care that half of the room was staring.

Some part of his software, that he didn't realize existed, wanted them all to know.

You were his, and he was yours.

Human.

Android.

It didn't matter. You were two living beings, and you were fucking happy, and that was all that mattered.

But, then, a sharp gasp rang out through the crowd and the radio was abruptly shut off. Connor turned his eyes to the source of the sound and realized an android had staggered back and tripped, now on their back on the ground and trying to scurry away. You tried to look over his shoulder to see what the fuss was all about.

"Markus," a masculine voice called out in despair. "How could you let them in here?"

The detective android narrowed his eyes.

It was Robert, a gun in his trembling hand.

[jericholeader]

open

11:39 PM

When Markus stepped out of New Jericho the rain had subsided. It smelled like dirt and wet pavement and the left over of an early spring drizzle. It had been warm, that day. 70s. All of the humans he’d talked to inevitably mentioned it and inevitably enjoyed it, and lamented the predicted cool meant to settle over the city during the night. He agreed with them, largely, even if there were a dozen more pressing things to be discussing. 

He inhaled a deep, settling breath. He was tired. He could feel it in a tightness at the back of his neck and in the way his thoughts drifted easily. He would be glad to be home. He would be glad to see Connor. 

Markus settled his messenger bag over his shoulder. His shoes were gritty against the sidewalk. Detroit never slept, but there was something stripped down and crisp about the way the city seemed to inhale after the rain. Storms weren’t for him, but this? It was a beautiful, raw clarity. New Jericho’s lights were a fuzzy glow in the mist as they drew farther away.

He paused at the mailbox on the corner, slipping in a bundle of letters hand-written by residents of New Jericho to Michigan’s Senator. He would have walked this way anyway, he had promised Amelia, who would normally have gone out to see to the assorted amount of paper correspondence generated by New Jericho. She’d seemed worn. He’d asked her to get some rest. The letters would hardly be out of his way. 

The box clinked as the letters hit the bottom, and he turned to the street. An automated taxi would meet him. He’d already scheduled it. 

Markus slid his hands into the pockets of his coat, and exhaled a slow breath. Their home would be warm, and Connor had only just gotten back into town, today. He’d missed him, and his arms were really the only place Markus wanted to sleep tonight.

He saw the taxi’s headlights approaching to his right.

A sharp, splitting crack! knifed the air and Markus turned, head whipping, at the sound. A gun. There were seconds to register the sound through the mist that obscured the details of nearby rooftops and street corners. Not enough seconds.

The impact felt like fire (familiar), searing through his chest, and he staggered backward at the sudden rush of pain. “Shit!” 

Blue blood bloomed immediately at his side. A sniper. How-...? Why? The taxi didn’t stop. He had to step backward (off balance) as it sped faster and tore past the curb, never meaning to stop. 

There was no cover here, on a corner, in the dark, in a slowly encroaching fog. Markus bolted for the other side of the street (an alley, if he could just-)

There was another crack of a bullet and this time he nearly fell, the shot punching into his back. He stumbled, a cry of pain between his teeth, and went down to a knee, in the wet street.  The angle-... it had to be a roof-...

Crack! 

His vision exploded in blue, and white, and hot, “aaAH!” and he crumpled, bag sliding from his shoulder and spilling out. Damn it, damn- 

The third shot had graze his head, tearing over the skin at his temple, and though the world was jagged and red and filled with static, he still had two eyes. There wasn’t a bullet in his skull. 

Markus clawed up and to his feet, dragging in a harsh breath and running to the mouth of the alley.

He gasped, pressing his palm against the stain of blood growing on his chest. High caliber, through and through. He coughed and ignored the red, glaring alarms of damage and thirium loss. 

He need to notify the authorities, and New Jericho’s security. He need to tell Connor-

ATTEMPTING CALL-

FAILED.

DAMAGE DETECTED. 

“Oh. Great.” Markus exhaled.