#I feel so conflicted and partly wanna start a new game right away

[iamchickenhearmesquawk]

Gosh I forgot how much decision making in story games can stress me out when I know it has an impact.

[hellish-summoner]

To start us off, how about a fun way to learn about the local summoner?

“Well, this might be a bit long, but not like I have anything else to do here, and we are having a pause from the fighting....”

Just for one quick thing before the read more.....

Have a Heca I made in a character maker~

Introduce your summoner

“Ah, introduce myself? My name is Hecatia Lapislazuil, but most people here we refer to me as Heca; feel free to do the same. As dragon-like as I might appear, I’m a friend, I promise.”

How did they come to Askr?

“Well, I was summoned of course! I was never aware of this world before I came here, which is odd given my role back in He-....Well, that’s not important to you, is it?”

what are their favorite hobbies?

“My favorite hobbies? Well, I certainly like engaging in spell card battles or even just normal battles, but there is no one to fight! All my heroes don’t want to even do a friendly battle for the most part, besides one....”

“......I have found that testing out magic is a fun hobby, and so is doodling or trying my hand at writing. Or......playing video games. I have found that magic can work just as well for charging handhelds and mobile devices, so a lack of a tv isn’t too much of an issue....”

Does your summoner have any bad habits that the heroes try to help them through?

“If I do have any, I’m not looking for solving them; it’s a matter of opinion really.”

“Besides, I.....had a bad habit that I would of accepted help with if I didn’t already learn my lesson there.”

How close is your summoner to their heroes?

“It depends on the hero.....My special heroes required more attention when getting them adjusted to Askr than the normal ones. And I do feel like I’m friends with a lot of the younger ones, and the dragons.....”

“.........Though I feel I’m closest with the special heroes from my world; and two of my Corrins. And......a friend who will be called Hydra since I think he prefers it.”

Does your summoner struggle with being a tactician?

“I will say that I have never thought of acting as well, so it’s been a learning process, but some advice here and there from the polite tacticians and leaders from other worlds have helped. Well, helped with directing people; my own tactics if allowed to fight is basically ‘overwhelm them’ still.”

How did your summoner react during their first time summoning?

“I think I just went quiet and realized that ‘holy shit.....I CAN SHOOT PEOPLE OUT OF THIS GUN???’ because you know.....I know what a gun is, but never remember what this thing is named. It’s the summongun now.”

How does your summoner react to summoning now?

“Eh, I’m used to it at this point. Would love it if it could give me those I’m looking for more often; that hawk king and wolf queen look quite fine~”

How well do they adjust to life in Askr?

“I adjusted fairly well; I’m used to places being behind the modern world in terms of tech......Kinda why I know how to charge things with magic.”

How long have they been a summoner?

“Since.......the start of that conflict with Embla? I think? It’s been a while at least.”

“..........Oh fuck, I have probably worried my wife and husband so much by this point.”

Who’s your summoners main team?

“Right now it’s the two Grimas, Lady Corncob, and smol Tiki. But currently I’m working on training two more Corncobs to make a slightly better dragon team. But hmm, to have Lady Grimgram babysit them, or have Hydra get to go with them into battle instead of just with one Corn.....Hmm...”

Who’s your summoners S support?

“Technically, it’s Crescent, aka the one I just called Lady Corncob, but that’s platonic.....My spouses have not been summoned (yet), so thus I wouldn’t feel comfortable getting in another relationship; the feeling is mutual, since Crescent has her own lovers she is waiting for.”

How was your Summoner and ally support building to S support?

“She was one of my first units to get really strong actually; she had quite the drive to be strong so she could help protect Askr. Partly, the relationship formed out of her assisting me often on staying calm....I was not always a Manakete, so the fact I needed to keep myself in control was a foreign concept.”

“................Not helped by me lacking a dragonstone back then. It had to be made specific too....”

How many allies have s support with your summoner?

“......I might be close enough to Hydra for that to be considered another platonic one. Lady Vallite as well.”

What are your top 4 ally x ally supports?

“Oh my~ Personally, I love to see Mikoto and Hydra interact; lovers separated far too soon finally getting reunited is quite a touching thing to see. Same with Crescent and the only one of her loves that has shown up; I swear, that green ninja follows us into battle even when he isn’t actually among the group fighting; though she has told me that two are still missing, though I don’t know where to find an orange kitsune and a half-dragon that favors a bow over a dragonstone or sword...”

“Who else that wouldn’t require much explaining....Ah yes, the male Grima is a possessed Robin who isn’t the normal one you see summoned, and I summoned a Olivia who uses a pegasus; and got to see Grima actually happy for pure reasons. He was so happy to see his wife again, that even the fell influence could do nothing to stop him from running up and hugging her. Also learned his name is Lunar.....”

“And then.....Ah what the hell, the other Grima, the female one, is quite small and unintimidating in this Askr, but it was quite interesting to see her cling to Henry and refuse to let go of him when I summoned him in his halloween outfit....I think Henry just ended up holding her until she was finally ready to let go.....Kokoro or Miyu is her name I believe, depending on if you are extremely close to her or anyone else.”

“..........I think I saw Kokor-...Uh, Miyu start crying when I summoned male Morgan. Said something about not being able to believe that she is able to have children....”

What does your summoner miss from home?

“I miss the heat......And I miss Isamu and Junko.....I would say I miss my loyal lampad, but CP seems to have followed me here somehow, it just took her a while to find me. And Therai.....I have missed my old friend, but with his appearance comes me needing to earn his forgiveness. He’s......still rather mad at me....”

If they could bring one thing from home with them what would it be?

“Ok, I know I can’t bring a person......I would love to bring a TV......Maybe also some dvds and blu-rays.....”

Is your summoners robe unique?

“...........Wait, we can get unique ones?! Fuck, all I got was one that has holes for wings and horns!”

Who are your fellow summoner friends?

“Let’s see.....There’s Alex, who has long suffered trying to fully comprehend me and magic in general......Lemon, who is from a race adept with time, and banged a dragon, a choice I can 100% respect....Mari, who thirsts for many, and should maybe bed both Xander and Ryoma instead of trying to choose one at this point....Mina, who is quite the lovely lady and understands the pains of being very limited in terms of strength; I honestly hope she regains her lost power, she deserves it......And-...Well, this is long enough already, I guess....”

What does your summoner wear if during their down time?

“I still have my Welcome Hell shirt, and wear it a lot in my downtime; or other t-shirts.....I like wearing skirts, since those are nice to wear, though I have been advised to wear shorts if I plan to go flying or do anything that might lift it up....”

How do they handle merging heroes or sending them home?

“I have never seen dupes of the same exact person, and normally send dupes of the same person from different timelines back home right away....”

What abilities/ weapons do they have?

“I got tomes, dragonstones....I had a lance until I had to give it back to the angry lizard. As for abilities.....Well, it’s not like myself to reveal all my tricks, but I will admit that I’m quite adept with magic even without a tome.”

Would your summoner like to know magic?

“I know magic already, though I would like to learn any new forms I didn’t already know.”

Are they able to hold their own in a fight?

“Yes-.....Kinda. I’m a bit of a glass cannon without my full power it seems......”

How many heroes have you acquired?

“A lot......I have lost count my friend. We certainly have an army here....”

What book has been the hardest? Emotional or battlewise.

“Going with emotional for my allies.....The most recent one; the death curse is very concerning.....Mostly because someone other than that prince got one too; and that poor child’s timer is only five days......I pray for Vallite that she does not have to see her son die, as I’m unsure of how a death from that curse will affect him, or even if it might cause him to get dragged to Hel....”

If your summoner went into battle what would be there class?

“Um....I use Tomes and Dragonstones....which matches no current class. I guess a Nohr Noble but without the swords?”

Are there any heroes they clash with?

“Therai.......though I willingly fight him, since it gets his anger out.”

Which hero have you pumped more into?

“I guess.....Crescent? She has asked to train with a lot of heroes before they go home. She has learned many things from them as a result.”

Which hero do you get a lot of while summoning?

“I see......a lot of the more common heroes.”

Which hero’s have they adopted?

“Harm any of the dragon children, and I and the Grimas will give you absolute hell.”

Do they participate in voting gauntlets?

“When I feel like it.......Not often now, since I need to focus on other things.

How do they handle their orbs?

“I save....sometimes.......Vallite said she saved something called Wisdom Cubes one time and still didn’t find the one she was looking for until she searched some sea a lot....”

What hero do you wanna see in fire emblem heroes?

“Someone let my fellow summoners summon the Silent Dragon. He is very nice if you summon the sane one. Mikoto can help keep him nice and calm.”

Will your summoner stay in Askr? Nifl? Muspell? Hel? Emblian?

“...........Muspell was nice and warm.........I would love to find a way to travel between this world and my own, honestly.”

What is your Summoner life like years later if they stayed? Askr. Nifl. Muspell. Hel. Emblian.

“Honestly....If I seemingly stayed, I would have a way to go back and forth.....So normal really; I have multiple bodies in my world, so maybe I can form one that can stay here, or just travel back and forth as needed.”

“.....Hell doesn’t need me that often anyways; I have those under me that can deal with things there just fine.”

Summoners family reacting to your summoners significant other?

“..............I don’t have much of a family. Isamu and Junko’s families are dead. And.....I actually don’t know what Junko’s parents thought of Isamu. Guess it’s completely unknown then.”

In a twist of fate, if your summoner could change one thing what would it be?

“...............I would say to make it so at least one of my spouses got summoned with me, but one, that would just worry the one that was not summoned more, and two......I would use it to either give that poor child a longer timer or prevent him from having to jump in front of Vallite to protect and thus causing some form of anger for Hel.....”

[5thdivinebeast]

So I wanna talk to you about Stranger Things season 2 and, yes, there will be spoilers. The second season, while I overall enjoyed it, definitely had a lot of problems I don’t think we should overall, mostly in regards to character development. Don’t get me wrong, I think this season was really good and I certainly think they are going in an interesting direction that I hope we see more of; however, I still want to address some glaring issues I’m noticing. Anyway, let’s start off with what I initially pointed out: the characterization. Many of the characters do have a lot of positive things I have to say, from Hopper’s character, to Lucas, to Eleven (for the most part), and most importantly Steve Harrington. Speaking of Steve, let’s actually start with something positive as Steve has clearly grown a lot between the two seasons. Steve has gone from a sort of asshole, ‘bad boy’ archetype of character to a much more mature, albeit unwilling father figure and protector of the main cast of kids. His arch was a lot different from what I was initially expecting and he went from one of my least favorite characters to one of favs this season. But that also brings up a something strange, Steve’s relationship with Nancy. Fairly early on in the season Nancy and Steve break up which is perfectly fine and I understand the reasoning for. However, the writers then forced a fairly awkward relationship between Nancy and the brother of a fairly important member of the cast Jonathan. I will admit, within the context of last season this would have made a LOT more sense as Steve was, as said before, kinda an asshole. But within this new context, it leaves me sort of confused. Not just because of the weird forced love triangle they have going on, but with how Steve now has to interact with the rest of cast. Nancy, although once again proving to be probably our most capable teenage character in the series, is once again forced into another romance which left a weird taste in my mouth. Now that that’s said and done let’s move on to the kids, Lucas and Dustin have a lot more screen time and honestly, they were some of my favorite characters. Although Dustin has sort of become a meme and I think a lot of people overlook the fact that he definitely made the main conflict many times worse for the cast, but I’ll leave that as is. My real issue comes into how they integrated the character of Max and Mike Wheeler’s... interesting character choice. So when we are first introduced to Max (Maxine but never call her that) she’s seen as this ‘edgy’, tomboy from California. ‘She’s not like the other girls... she skateboards, she ... plays video games...” ? Anyway, I like her character a lot more than I thought I would, she was spunky, snarky, and had an attitude that I could really relate to as the audience member sometimes saying the obvious things in just the right ways. A character that could have easily become one-dimensional was handled brilliantly in my opinion. Where I take issue, however is in how the rest of the cast treats Max. There was a trend I noticed, which became increasingly more evident close to the end of the season, of most of the characters treating Max really poorly. At first, her exclusion made sense, she was new to the group and “no one can replace eleven D:”. But after aiding and saving the lives of the main characters multiple times I expected it to go away, almost until the very last second the group, with the exception of Lucas, treated Max as if she was useless or a burden. Also there’s that whole weird love triangle between her Lucas and Dustin. Which reminds me, the conflict between Nancy and Steve is never really resolved... The thing that frustrates me about this love triangle is that it simplifies an otherwise interesting character and relegates her to the object of interest for two tertiary characters. Another issue I see people taking is with Max’s brother and yes he is creepy. But I think people are missing the point. Stranger things is a fairly sanitized version of the 80s and as a person who has no nostalgia for that era, I remember it primarily for stuff like the AIDS crisis, Iran Contra, the invasion of Grenada etc... and the casual sexism and racism and homophobia of the era. Max’s brother embodies that, he is abusive misogynistic, homophobic, and cruel. In the words of one of my favorite movie reviewers: “There is a reason why the nostalgic media from that era is typically horror” and boy has there been a lot of 80s nostalgia lately: It, Glow, Thor just to name a few. Now we get to Mike, who’s character began to really irk me this season. He became a lot more whiney and petulant than he was last season. Partly because he has less to do, and also he’s in middle school so I guess there’s some accuracy. But where the other characters seemed to grow, Mike regressed, he no longer was really that interesting he was just moody. The rest of the characters may also act similarly moody, however I find myself understanding and sympathizing with the characters who may act occasionally mood because we understand their motivation. With Mike it feels a lot less necessary and there’s less to actually relate to him on. Winona Ryder is still great and I want more of Millie Bobby Brown. Also there is a really cool dynamic going on with Eleven and a new additional character who was recently brought on. So in summary it’s a p good season, but I still do take issue with it and if anyone wants to talk about it more w let’s go :)

[fhujami]

My confession

I’m starting to be in a point that I’m gonna hit the ground, and I’m gonna hit there hard. I need to clear my head and write my thoughts down, write down my confession about my life and my mistakes I made, and what keeps me walking on the edge in every single step I take, what keeps me feeling like shit, crushing pain lingering in my chest, making me hard to breathe, what makes me to run away from my problems and my feelings - if I do even have any feelings.

I don’t fear death. I don’t fear the silence and darkness around me. I don’t fear that I don’t feel nothing, that I don’t sense anything, that I’m just cold body with a emptiness flying around me.

Because I think I am already burning in Hell. I think I’m already burning in the flames of Hell, where I have ended up because everything I have done in my life, because of every mistake, every lie, every sin i made. Even I have slight moments in my life, when I feel happy, and I feel like I actually am happy, but like I have predicted, Everything was just a cover, just a calm before the storm.

On the other hand I feel like I’m just a fucking ghost, that I’m here and nobody sees me, nobody know’s I’m here. Or if someone know’s I’m here, they choose to ignore me, letting me know that they know I’m here but still letting me know that they don’t care that I’m here. 

Why I write so much fanfiction about Samuel Drake? Why I “feel” so powerly about a fictional character? It’s because that it’s my way to escape my problems, escape the reality, escape what piece of shit I really am. Some of my fics had really dark subjects. Writing is therapy, and i move my feelings and thoughts to my texts, I’m not dealing them or escaping them, but atleast I let them out somehow, not purely, not totally, but somehow. When I write, I love the thought of comfort Sam would give to me. And it’s totally crazy, but I love that imagine, I love to close my eyes and think how Sam would hold me and comforts me. Because I have no-one else to lean on, he’s my wall who supports me right now (which is totally fucked up, he’s fictional, but this is my way to deal my pain right now)

I clinge in the most impossible things, so I can forget even for a second that darkness and emptiness what grows inside of me. I can shut out the real life around me, when I fall deep into the story or character I love. This has happen before. It happened years ago with Lord of the Rings, It happened with LOST, it happened with Once Upon a Time, it happened with GTAV, and now it’s happening with Samuel Drake. I lost myself into the story, to the characters, everything that is not real.

Because it takes my pain away. 

Yes we all get addicted what takes the pain away. I have another addiction, sickness what’s gonna follow me for the rest of my life. I’m never gonna be cured, no, I need all my willpower to not to act how that addiction want me to behave. But the sad fact is, that I don’t have willpower. 

If I had willpower, I won’t be weighing 110kg. If i had willpower, I won’t be smoking. If i had willpower, I won’t be a fucking mess who has a gambling problem.

So, I said it. My biggest and darkest secret. 

I have a gambling problem.

There’s only few people who knows about my addiction. My mother and two of my friend. 

And the difference with this addiction from the addiction with alcohol or drugs, is that you cannot go to some detoxification, where you spend weeks trying to get rid of the burning will to do it. 

The difference how people treat gamblers than alcoholics or druggies, it’s huge. Nobody thinks that this is sickness or addiction, because you can just simply “stop playing”. You can’t stop drinking or using drugs just like that, because then you’ll be using something, you put something in your body and it’s your body that starts to scream it when you don’t have it.

But gambler, you can just stop gambling right? Just that easy, just don’t deposit your money to that casino and anything. Or when you don’t have the money, then you won’t play.

Just that easy right?

Gamblers mind and brain, acts exactly same than drugger or alcoholic. We also have sympthoms when we cannot play/aren’t playing. And even we do not have the money, we will find a way to get the money so we can play, just like the drugger or alcoholic founds a way to get their daily dose. We had that burning hope inside of us, that we got finally that big win, what will fixs all our money problems. 

But because we had a problem, even if we won the million pot, the odds that we are going to play that money back, it’s almost 100%. Because we had a problem, and big win is not the solution. We only grave more, we think that because we won now, we could win even more, that our luck had changed. And we play more, until we notice that all of the money you had won, is gone. And you are in deeper shit than you were before, the burn to play more grown bigger.

And people won’t understand that. We are maybe even lower cast than drug users or alcoholics. At least that’s how I’m feeling, because there’s no many ways to get help here where I am living.

I did this “Game Over-program” almost two years ago. It was through the internet, when I put the application to it in the January 2015, the problem hasn’t grow too big, I had just figured that it had started to control me and I was no more controlling it.

But it took almost SIX MONTHS, before I got the email that my program has started. There was almost six months queue to that program. And to be honest, if I had got the program when I most needed it, I probably wouldn’t be in this situation right now. Because then I had that pure will to end this madness, end the gambling, and it hasn’t been too late. But I didn’t get the help when I most needed it, and now I’m still partly fooling myself and everyone around me.

The program was 8 weeks long. Every week someone called me, calls lasted 1-1.5hours, and we talked about the tasks I needed to do during the week, then he opened new tasks to me in the program and I had time to do them until he calls me again.

On the other hand it was good program, it really put me think why i was gambling, how i acted when i gambled or i didn’t gambled, and stuff like that. But on the other hand, the fact that you weren’t in contact with a real person, face to face, it maked it some kind of meaningless. It was there was some robot to helping me, not a real person who cared about me and my problems.

You know what I mean?

Yeah, I was doing well over a year when that program ended. And now for the couple of months. I relapsed. Because I’m at work now, they got from my salary 1/3 to pay my loans. After I pay my rent, bills and my student loan (which goes automatically from my bank account) I got less than a 200€ for the next four weeks.

I know that that’s actually a lot. It’s much more than some people, but it’s still not much. And yeah, for the last couple of months, I relapsed, because I was hoping that I got little more money, so I can buy myself new jeans, or that frigde would be actually full for a long time, or that i actually can go to store without calculating every single product, just to make sure my money is enough.

Knowing that I’ll probably gonna play them all back, even I win, I relapsed more. And more. And now I’m back in that fucking circle.

I have no-one to turn to. I got my paycheck week ago and I’m out of money, already. This time my gaming was “small” just a 70euros. But that 70 euros, might had made me go through to maybe another week or two. I closed every single casino accounts i had opened right now, finally, I'm tired of fooling myself. Now I really need to stop. I can't keep going this way.

I have no-one to turn to. I’m too ashamed, my mother was so mad at me when I told her in the first place, she almost cut her bonds with me. And she told me that if I ever play again, she’s gonna tell everyone that i have lost my credit information and about my gambling problem. I guess she just tried to feel me so fucking ashamed it’ll keep me away from the games, but now it’s just made me too ashamed to tell her i relapsed.

I fucking hate myself. I wanna throw up, I wanna cry and scream all the fucking pain out deep inside of me what has been growing there for years now. 

Even I’m probably already dead, burning in the flames of Hell. I just wanna die, I don’t wanna burn here anymore. I’ll rather be cold body, only the emptiness around me.

I don’t wanna burn here, I don’t want to pretend anymore that everything is fine, I don’t wanna lie anymore, I don’t wanna make excuses why I’m out of money all the time, I don’t wanna pretend a smile anymore, just because everyone thinks I’m okay.

But on the other hand I do not want people to know why I feel like shit, I don’t wanna people to know why i pretend a smile, I do not want people to try to comfort me, because i think that does not work, because i’m afraid that they only pity me. I know everything is so conflicted. But I am a big mess.

And I don’t want any pity or “JUST TELL EVERYONE AND YOU WON’T BE FEELING THIS WAY” because do you really think even writing this post it’s easy? That writing this post and almost anyone could read it (like nobody will) where i tell how shitty person I am? But now, everything is closed, I know when I got that burning again, I'll go search if there's any casino left where i could play, but I had went through probably every single one of them, so I'm pretty hopeful that there's none left.

I do not want any pity or any shit from you, i had already lots of shit to deal right now, I just needed to write my thoughts down.

[disasterghaster-moved]

SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY

She didn’t have many people in her life that might understand her knuckles smacking into them. Half the reason for striking out was the hope that Worth would be one of them. If not, the secondary hope was just that they’d work out enough energy that she could figure out the words in the aftermath.

She’d tried to give Charlie words, but they all sounded stupid and lacked...something vital.

Her anger expressed in her swings seemed far more livid.

Not knowing about the changes of his used up rune, she came at him directly. Having already decided that she would still be pulling back on punches, merely a little less. And that she would be doing actual harm up into the point where he’d lose. She’d done that enough. Was how she approached most conflicts with enemies and frenemies alike.

Found Worth in the clinic from behind him and got one hand on the back of his shirt and the other on his waistband. Picking him right up off his feet and sending him tumbling hard out into the hall.

“You weren’t listening!”

After he’d found out what the rune’s effects were, he’d almost instantly decided to seek out Devang. At some point. But first he wanted to find something to fucking drink. None of the usual intoxication had come with this rune and he was still hungover, needing just a little hair of the dog to get him through the rest of the day. And then he’d go find Devang and see if she still wanted to tussle. So that’s how she found him, kneeling in front of the bathroom cabinet under the sink and rummaging around in there.

He hadn’t flown in a long time. So there was that. Kinda nice, except for the landing. But being picked up and bodily thrown like that just added to the feeling of being powerless. Like a little kid who could easily be pushed around and lectured to. And that’s what she was trying to do right now, he knew. “Teach” him something. Worth was probably one of the people who could look past her fists and her anger and see something else, but right now he didn’t want to confront what he saw.

He rolled around onto his knees and staggered back up. Brushed himself off and shot her a glance over his shoulder.

“Was listenenin’ fine. Ya think m’dumb for doin’ this. Got it. Noted.”

Devang put a fist right through the doorframe on her way out the bathroom after him. No. That was not what she was telling him. That is not what she was thinking. He wasn’t listening. He wasn’t hearing anything.

Lips had peeled away from teeth again. Nose crinkled and a matching snarl of frustration coming out of her.

“Wrong.” Not yet realizing that he’d gotten up a little easily for someone just bodily tossed.

His eyes rolled and he grumbled out an exasperated sigh. “Ugh, christ. Fine then. Wut ya sayin’.” Strode right up to her and got in her space, which was a dumb thing to do for basically anybody but God, and crossed his arms. Wasn’t afraid. He’d like to think he wouldn’t have been afraid even without a rune based steroid injection, because it wasn’t like Devang would ever REALLY hurt him. Kind of annoying, but it gave him a further feeling of safety.

“Well? All ears, luv.”

If she could fit the words together, she would have told him. In that usual well worded manner she had when the jigsaw of them actually matched edges enough to do so. Right now they were all corner pieces. All of them.

The son of a bitch was arrogant and he was blindly letting it happen. Playing right into Pride’s damn hand and asking for belly rubs. And!!! There was more. Ways to tell him that. To communicate and help give him some anchor words--BUT!!! EVERYTHING WAS BUZZING AND crackling and smashing and darting and spinning and sudden redirects and very little came together. Her mind was one of those scribbly line ball thought bubbles in comic books.

That left her with butting her forehead into the bridge of his nose. Fuck. You. You overconfident ball of assetry. You’re going to hear me in the snap of your cartilage.

Unfortunately, that told him nothing. If he’d had a second to sit down and think. If he could have found something to drink and maybe had a night or two to mull it over, he’d have probably come to the understanding that she was upset about more than just a poor choice in character on his part. That she wasn’t just trying to police his actions and warn him about some danger he didn’t think existed. But he wasn’t even close to that yet.

He was angry too, and now in awful pain as his nose went to the left and stayed there under the force of the impact. He touched his fingers to the blood on his upper lip and stared at it, absolutely no logical thought running through his brain other than indignation. Feelings actually kind of hurt and responding to it by twisting into stronger anger.

But you know what? That was fine. That was better than fine. If she wanted to fight some more, he’d play. Maybe this time it would be actually fair. He looked back up at her, eyes as cold as their icy blue color.

“Devang.” He let go of the nickname without even realizing it. “Yer not sayin’ anythin’ new, ya know. An’ I don’t think ya really wanna do this.” The words were a challenge, a warning, and a ghost of his true self all in one. Worth was always game for some light punches and dirty fighting, but true violence just wasn’t in him. He had no need or want for it. But right now he’d be willing to use it. And that alone was a red flag that he should have noticed right off the bat.

“One knock out doesn’t make you an undisputed champ, Quincy.” She wasn’t doing this to play patty-cake. Tension in her arms and shoulders. Knees already slightly bent and balance rooted. Except for a sideways stagger of her body that would have been the smarter angle of stance. Rather keeping straight on and squaring off with him. A bit required when they were in the same height bracket.

“oH WOW ya know wUT????” He swung a quick right fist at Devang’s face, nothing about his movement strategic or thought out, just fueled by pure INSULT. Behind that punch was the force of his newly acquired strength, and absolutely no amount of holding back. Part of him was curious to see if he’d crack a cheekbone. The other part just wanted to show her. He deserved some respect goddammit.

She was not at all prepared for that amount of force to get transferred out of his fist and into her face. She had tough bones, but that was enough to knock her down when unprepared. Put a fracture in the cheekbone and took her a moment to proCESS what just happened from the ground. Working on getting back up on her elbow as that process happened around a pretty blinding amount of momentary pain.

Thankfully her biology lightly splinted the fracture enough that it couldn’t, at least, get worse without getting hit in the same place again. Would delay swelling.

Starting to realize he just hit her like a supernatural person and not a human with experience. Which was going to result in a secondary realization next.

It was really sick but the sight of her on the ground and just fucking confused made him feel… slightly better. Not completely, since he didn’t actually want to HURT her but hopefully this made her understand a little better. After all, sometimes Devang just got in a space where only violence made any noise. What could he really say, anyway? To make her understand he needed to show her.

“Gettin’ th’ picture, luv? Ya gotta trust me on these things. I don’t lie.” He had an urge to outright kick her when she was down, but managed to fight against it. He wasn’t cruel or anything. He also had a very strong urge to offer her a hand up.

Fought against that too.

Hoho. Hohoooo. That second realization hit like a quick toke on an opium pipe. Eyes going from wide in confusion to narrow in anger that wasn’t being held in check anymore. Getting feet back under her and standing.

“It ain’t my ears that ain’t hearin’. It ain’ my heart that ain’t trustin’. It ain’ my tongue tha’s lyin’.” Words were building up with the violent energy trying to crawl out of her throat at the same time. Started to laugh in a low rasp. Straight out a graveyard fog. Stance completely different from the first. Sideways and hands up in a general position. Neither fisted nor flat.

“Try that again, lover-mine. Pride won’t have two halves of your fucking arrogance to glue together when I’m done with you.” Let’s go, Mister I’m-Big-League-Now.

He had absolutely no idea what the fuck she was talking about there, and it wasn’t just because her speech had slurred a bit. It was like a part of his brain just shut off, the part that usually so intuitive. Them were fightin’ words as far as he was concerned, and that was all he cared about right now.

“Oh please.” He went for her throat this time. Partly because he knew it was a spot that would cause significant damage from just a punch, and partly because it was her WORDS that were stoking the fire in him. Knuckles going straight for the fleshy part of her throat under his chin, where he’d put so much care into marking not too long ago.

Worth wanted All-Out Devang. He got All-Out Devang. She was in stance. She was keen minded and prepared. His knuckles smacked into the meaty part of a palm, and it smarted, but it didn’t get her throat as hopped. Worse than that, she brought her other palm in an upward blow into the back of his elbow. If it didn’t pop it into the wrong 90 degree angle then it would at least strain it into feeling that way. She could follow up the blow with another, but refrained to some degree still.

She didn’t want him dead. Just hurting. And listening.

“Don’t be so chaste, this isn’t a first date.” Admonished his choice of attack. Giving him a push with the captured fist to stagger him back a step once more.

It almost snapped his arm upwards at the elbow, but the tension he held against her palm ended up saving the limb from bending beyond the point of no return. It still sent a lightning rod of pain down his forearm and made his pinkie and ring finger numb, but he grit his teeth and stubbornly kept that fist in her grasp. In fact he forced his fingers through the spaces between her own and clasped their hands together fully, so that when he yanked back on his semi-injured arm he could yank her closer along with it. Turning slightly and catching her with his knee with the momentum of that pull, aiming as close to the solar plexus as he could get with his bony leg.

“Aw, didn’t know ya were so eager! Hope ya brought protection, luv.”

At the same time he was going to try and twist that wrist he held, same direction as his body. Sharp and sudden like a doorknob that wouldn’t budge. It would be impressive if he had some sort of a plan in mind but it all came down to him feeling damn good at the strength in his arms. It was something he’d never gotten the chance to experience before and it was… fucking intoxicating. Just being able to lock hands with Devang and look her straight in the fact instead of being thrown back was worth it all.

And he wanted to keep going, whether he disarmed her or disabled her.

 Getting the wind knocked out of her was not an uncommon feeling. It hurt for a few second flash and would hurt in a dull throb of surface pain after, but a short coughed inhale that didn’t exhale and hunch didn’t stop her from hooking free arm under that leg at the knee while it was up there.

Saved her from the wrist twist which would have been difficult to salvage. She pulled up on the knee and and then forward enough to get him completely out of control of his balance. Swallowing back a need to dry heave when her diaphragm kicked back into order. And dropped weight that got transferred to the leg she was holding.

Didn’t think he was flexible enough to not feel pain from doing a sudden full split on the ground like a seasoned cheerleader.

She would have thought wrong about his flexibility, but only when it didn't include being forcefully driven to the floor in a painful strain on his groin and inner thigh. He cried out and retaliated by grabbing the back of her head and pulling with all his strength plus a little more fueled by anger and pain. Let's make her nose just as crooked and shattered as his was.

Meanwhile his leg was a bit stuck in that position because wow.

Devang didn’t expect the grab on her head on the way down.  Hitting her knees hard and going wherever those arms decided her head needed to go. Unexpected and fast tended to mean pain, however.

YUP pain was the name of the game. And honestly it probably would have looked downright hilarious if the circumstances weren't so awful. Worth doing an impromptu split on the floor and driving Devang's face right down into his upturned knee. Even though it wasn't bent it was still a knee. And bony as hell, just like the rest of him.

This whole mix of posture was ridiculous and she couldn’t really make it not ridiculous from the floor like that. So she came up with her head holding her nose and giving him a really dirty sort of stare to the face. Why did he have to make EVERYTHING ridiculous???

Listen whether he was possessed by a hell artifact or being Prideful as fuck, he was still Worth. There was no getting around that ladies and gentlemen, and his true self shone through as he took in the way she was looking at him. Breaking up his anger with a few chuckling breaths through his own crooked teeth, unable to help the smug little shit eating grin.

"C'mon Vangers. Give it up. I don't go down easily to begin wi'." Kind of easing his legs back into a more natural position under him instead of rooting for the home team. "Wut are ya tryin' to prove anyway?"

“I ain’ provin’ nothin’. Yer not hearin’!” Yelling, half muffled, from under that hand pressed to her nose. Shoving him hard with her free hand in the chest. He’d. Managed to break up some of her own anger, but she was still mad!!! And her brain was still buzzing and disjointed. She was trying! Like she told Charlie!

Didn’t seem to mean anything to anyone,

"Much as I love gettin' m'ass beat from time to time, this ain't exactly th' way to explain weird fuckin' feelings that don't make any sense." Which was??? Not even true???? And he heard the words coming out of his mouth and didn't fully believe them but honestly fuck her. And he shoved her back just drive that point home. She couldn't ever just be simple. She always had to be some goddamn enigma wrapped up in a sudoku puzzle dipped in three layers of mental illness and trauma and he just wanted--

Well, he wasn't sure. He wanted her to just trust that he could handle himself, or at least that's what his brain was telling him. And it was more thought than had been able to get through his anger in the past five minutes so... at least there was that. Even if it was just a prideful shadow of his true feelings.

Both hands got behind the next shove. Snarl back.

“Ya eatin’ yer own fuckin’ tail!” More yelling. Blood running from nose and onto lips, flecking the words some, but whatever. Not important. Following up with another simplified punch to his face. “I see too far so stop lookin’ at tha end of yer own nose!”

His head rocked back with the punch and, simplified or not, he was now sporting a bit of a split lip himself. A few of those words actually sinking in a little. Probably because they were more simple? Eating your own tail. He understood that. End of your nose.

Or maybe it was the repeated blows to the head.

He furrowed his brow in some mix of confusion and disgust. Let out another derisive laugh. "Wut, are ya worried 'bout me that much??? Scared I'll destroy myself if I don't realize wut's ~~~really~~~ goin' on?" He was mocking it, yeah, but least it made more sense and had more meaning to him than ‘doN T bE STUPid punchpunch’.

The knuckles of her offending hand were getting a swirling sort of grainy quality. She didn’t want him dead, no. Couldn’t it him with a Diablo Punch, but she could hit him with a less dangerous and overpowering version of it that had no name and had never actually been used before it was thrown at Worth. It’s an energy enhance blow. A solid force of its own that wouldn’t be much impeded by a standard block and would travel forward a good six inches in any direction forward from the initial impact of the fist. It’s more of an extension of force and momentum than anything.

Stop. Laughing.

“Ya already don’!”

WELP. It got him to shut up a second or two. Knocking him backwards off his knees and sending him skidding over the floor of the floor of the clinic. Arms and legs splayed out as he lay in a short daze and pieced together why he was seeing stars without her even touching him. Took him a minute but he remembered. Maybe he should have asked for telekenetic powers too. Then again he never really asked for anything *specifically*.

He lay there and actually thought for a second. Already didn't... what? Oh, yeah, realize the enormity of whatever danger she was so urgently warning him of. Huh.

She.

Might have a point.

Through everything was the fact that he'd always trusted her. Even after she killed Charlie he'd still had faith in her, and that was too firm a foundation to just be washed away completely. But.

But!!!

He was gonna give her the finger from the floor anyway.

Because reasons. Wasn't fully ready to accept it yet.

Sat right back down on her heels. Somehow satisfied by the flashing of middle finger. Now her face hurt and the noise was quieter. The snow on a TV screen instead of some milling mass of locusts eating all her thoughts and words. Back to mostly just wanting to die.

“Didja hafta break my cheekbone?” Anger out of her voice and replaced with a certain sort of dry lethargy and grim resignation. Felt like she’d been heard and what he did next was his own informed decision. One way or another.

Stare having fallen down to the palms resting on her knees loosely.

And that's what ended up sinking some remorse into him. That quiet, reserved tone that didn't ask him to beg for forgiveness just simply asked if he'd *had* to. And... no. No, really hadn't. This all had been completely unnecessary, even more than the average hobo fight between drunks in the alley by his clinic. He sat himself up after another moment and rubbed his head like he was waking up from a bad hangover. It wasn't just a hangover though and he wasn't... fully woken up.

Just wasn't all that angry anymore. Frustrated and sad and a little disgusted with the whole thing. Devang being angry he could deal with. His pride has a very quick and dirty answer to anger. Guilt, and the feeling that maybe he COULD have been wrong, was harder to deal with. Pride wanted to deny it all together but he couldn't. He just couldn't. He might be wrong and he might have fucked up more than just her cheekbone.

Might have.

He sighed into his hand and wiped some blood off his chin. He'd ask why she DIDN'T break his bones but he knew the answer to that. "Cuz yer in th' runnin' against me for biggest dick?"

“‘Ready know my dick’s bigger. E’en when I dun haffun.” Some of that was an actual roughly Scottish sounding accent under all the broken nose slurs. Finally lifted hands with some effort of will, not for actual exhaustion so much as mental sorts, to start snapping nose bones back into alignment enough for her that natural splinting to take place. Wasn’t too bad of a displacement so she managed it before her vision tried to tunnel too much.

"Pretty sure that bringin' size up is a great way to get punched in th' dingo." Yeah he just called her private parts a dingo. What OF IT? But yeah, he wasn't going to go down that endless spiral of measuring contests. Not today, anyway.

He scrunched up his nose as he heard the bones snap back into place. "Eugh. Ya know that's... that's pretty fuckin' disturbin'. Jus' watchin' ya do that." Specifically because he should have been doing that, and that thought was an uncomfortable mixture of pride and guilt together.

His own nose was pretty loosely set from before, and he reached up to touch it gingerly. Winced and decided to focus on smoking instead. That is, if they were done wailing on each other. He was mostly done. Even managed to drain a lot of the nastiness out of his voice.

"Ya sound like Johnny Depp tryin' to play th' Mad Hatter by th' way." Well, most of the nastiness.

Smacked a fist, now done with her nose, into one end of a well placed floorboard. Knocking it downward and sending the other end up into the underneath of his chin. Look. She’ll keep beating you up. Just not nearly as hard.

Cranky despite the overall calm down. Going to stand after hitting the floorboard.

The floorboard knocked his cigarette out of his mouth in the middle of him trying to light it, and lit up a whole new spark of anger in him. Ripped that floorboard right out and knocked her in the side with it like a big old baseball bat LOOK HE WILL STILL BEAT YOU UP TOO.

“WELL YA DO????????? CHRIST.”

Two things broke, the board a couple ribs. FuCKiNG HEll. She doubled over a bit and hacked one hell of a couple coughs. Holding the side and bracing other hand to her knee. Needed a fucking second for that one.

She’d get him back in a moment. Small timeout, maybe.

Good, maybe during that timeout he could light his goddamn cigarette and take a drag on it like he’d been trying to do for a while now. And he still needed a drink, he remembered. Thought about asking her straight up if she had any, but… nah. No way. Instead he went to grab his keys and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Goin’ out for a while.” He paused at the door and looked back. “I’ll wrap those when I come back.”

Seeing him just...vacate had started to ping into her chest as another abandonment in the last couple of days. Which, in of itself, wasn’t a fear or anything. Just hurt. A lot. Left her feeling a multitude of things. Increasing her lack of self worth. Made her question if she was or was not an unreasonable monster.

Then he’d made an indication of returning. Softened that feeling and made that pit more shallow than before. Though she wasn’t sure if she was going to stay long enough for him to come back and do that. Bitterness making her want to vanish and suffer her injuries alone. Lack of emotional confidence seeking to stay and be touched softly despite having lost her temper or something stupid and pathetically attached like that.

Her turn to show him a long, gloved, middle finger. Then put the hand back on her knee. For now she was winded and needed to recover. She’d figure out which of all those things she would act on before he came back.