#I know five of them in total and four of them do the stabby stabbies

[fruityfroggy]

Ough…w-womne…w-white haired women…and…e-enbies…white haired…enbies….

Can stab me. They can stab me (metaphorically) pls stab me- I mean stab me (figuratively) I mean kiss me I mean stab me (with tension) I mean stab me (metaphorically) I mean slay me like a beast- fck, I mean let me love them I mean kill me (figuratively) I mean haunt my dreams I mean cut me into even slices (metaphorically) I mean cut me into bite-sized pieces (figuratively) I mean eughhhhhhheughhhhhajdudhdidjdusjskidudhskahelpp

[delimeful]

you cant go back (2)

warnings: fear, miscommunication, guilt, mentions of theoretical gore/injury, dehumanization, referring to a person as 'it', general angst

-

For the fourth day in a row, Lady Macbeth had spurned him.

Roman frowned, pulling the strap of his messenger bag over his head and tossing it over the back of a kitchen chair.

Lady was old, smug, and occasionally very cranky, but she wasn’t deaf like Ophelia-- she always came prancing over once she heard his keys rattling in the lock, delighted at the opportunity to smear cat hair all over his pants and get her claws stuck in his shoelaces.

Yet here he stood, catless.

For the past few days, too, she hadn’t been in the house at all when he got home. He’d been downright worried that first day, uneasy until she strolled back in at dusk.

They had an expansive backyard that their younger cats took delight in frolicking in, but their second-oldest cat was a rare visitor to the outdoors. Lady was first and foremost a homebody, and she preferred a warm body to sit on. Their squishy heat-generating human bodies were the only reason she hadn’t assassinated them all in their sleep by now, according to--

Roman cut the thought off sharply, feeling familiar grief pit up in his throat. He shook his head, the motion harsh enough to make his neck twinge. There was no time for standing about and pondering! He had a cat to locate!

A determined jut to his chin, he grabbed what supplies he would need for this perilous journey-- cat treats, a catnip toy, even a tempting cardboard box-- and strode confidently out the backdoor.

For the next half-hour, he wandered around the acres of their property, greeting each of the goats and chickens by name as he checked all the most common cat hidey-holes.

He’d almost given up by the time he stumbled across the old barn, pant legs covered in burrs and the beginnings of a sunburn across the back of his neck. Whatever delightful cat secrets Lady was so busy with, surely he could discover them when it wasn’t the middle of summer.

Just before he could turn around, though, he noticed that one of the doors was just slightly ajar.

Roman felt his brow gradually scrunch up the longer he stared at it. It had been locked up after the last of the old supplies had been moved from it, hadn’t it? The last big storm had proved it wasn’t weather-worthy, his dad had plans to take it apart for timber, ones that had seemingly been forgotten after… afterwards.

Petty inconveniences of getting there forgotten, Roman crept closer on light feet, grip tight on the catnip mouse in his hand. The wind died down at an eerily perfect moment, and he strained to hear beyond those old wooden walls.

Not everything is a grand conspiracy, a voice in his head reminded him, sounding suspiciously similar to Specs, it could simply be someone without housing that took the opportunity for shelter provided by the abandoned barn.

Roman sidled halfway through the ajar door, and froze at the sight of an upright humanoid figure only a few meters away. Something about it wasn't right, instantly putting him on edge. He kept staring, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

(“I’m telling you, these lights were strange even by my standards! Almost… alien.” An unsettling grin that was a beat late.)

The figure’s head was dropped forward, but he could tell even from this distance that it wasn’t human, with shiny purple-grey segmented skin and legs with knees facing the wrong way. It had spiky shoulder joints, but its arms seemed to be tucked behind it.

(Roman had shoved him off the couch, sour about being taken in by one of his tales, and he hadn’t brought it up again.)

Most alarming of all, there were four long, spindly limbs stretched out into the air behind it, seemingly spawning from its back. The legs were spider-like in nature, but shiny instead of hairy, and each one ended in a sharp point. As he watched, he could see the limbs shifting slowly, pairs of them lifting and falling in odd synchrony with the creature’s slow breathing.

(Roman had been freaked out, and his brother had dropped the subject. He should’ve asked, he should have known something was wrong--)

“Miaow.” A plaintive voice called, nearly startling Roman out of his skin.

He tore his gaze away from the (alien) mystery intruder, and felt his jaw drop as he took in Lady Macbeth’s current position. Loafing on the feet of an insidious intruder?!

For shame, he mouthed silently at her.

Lady blinked slowly and continued to purr, unbothered by his accusatory stare. One of those spider limbs shifted again, making Roman swallow nervously. He really didn’t want to see what sort of automatic reaction an extraterrestrial’s stabby-arms would have to finding a cat in its space.

He waved the catnip mouse enticingly. Lady gave him the bland look of a cat who had preferred those expensive feather toys for as long as he had known her. Roman resisted the urge to facepalm.

The insanely dangerous method it was, then.

Putting all his sneaking skills to use, he sidled further into the barn, dropping into a crouch and beginning to creep across the dirt floor as slowly as possible. Each step was carefully placed, almost entirely silent, and whenever those freaky appendages twitched, he froze in place for a full thirty seconds.

The alien’s head remained lax (asleep?) as he drew closer, but Lady refused to entertain his desperate motions for her to leave her ill-chosen bed. At this rate, he’d have to pick her up off of it, and hope that she didn’t complain too much on the way out.

He shifted his weight forwards, and suddenly all four of the arms were still, almost taut in the air. Only a couple feet away, the alien’s head bobbed slightly. His time was up.

Clenching his teeth, Roman made a gamble.

He tossed the little mouse toy directly at the space above the alien’s head and dove for Lady.

There was a whistle, like a whip or an arrow sliding through the air, and Roman made the mistake of glancing up as soon as he had his hands securely around Lady’s body.

All four of the spider limbs had jabbed into the same point, skewering the toy from several different angles. The alien was certainly awake now, and it had four times as many eyes as any one person could reasonably need. Between one heartbeat and the next, those huge dark irises went from staring at the poor mutilated toy to staring at Roman.

Terror shot through him and he gave up on subtlety, throwing himself back as hard as he could and hoping that he made it out of range.

He landed on his back with a whomp that knocked the wind out of him, and flinched as that terrifying whistling sound split the air again, ending in a muted thump. He was so wired with adrenaline that he couldn’t tell if he’d been hit or not. Locked in his arms, Lady writhed and complained loudly.

“Not going anywhere,” Roman wheezed, “you little fiend, con-- consorting with the enemy.”

There were several more whistle-thumps, which was either very good or very bad for him. He rolled to his side, pushing himself up on an elbow and taking stock of himself, braced for the worst.

The alien was still standing there against the central support beam of the barn. Half a foot from Roman’s leg, it's very sharp extra arms had left holes pierced in the hard-packed dirt of the barn’s floor.

“But no holes in me,” Roman cheered weakly, and then shifted Lady to the crook of one arm and flipped the alien off. “Nice try, Space Invader.”

The alien made a deep clicking rumble, but stopped trying to impale him. Instead, it moved to hold all those limbs high up in the air menacingly, ready to stab down at any point. The remains of the toy mouse sat near its feet, cotton innards spilling everywhere like a grim warning.

Roman got to his own feet, wincing at the feeling of Lady’s claws poking into his ribs as she attempted to kick her way to freedom. He took a moment to stare once he was back upright.

The alien’s skin plates had gone completely pitch-black, only the slightest hints of purple between the plates to prove that there’d ever been any color to it at all. Roman was abruptly glad that he hadn’t encountered it in the dark of night.

Its eyes were just as dark, with only the slightest difference in shades of black to indicate the difference between iris and sclera. Despite his artistic eye for color differences, even Roman couldn’t tell where its pupils were. If it even had pupils.

It also was still stuck in one place, despite its legs seeming totally operational. Roman slowly shuffled to the side of it, making sure to keep a few good steps clear of stabbing range, and found that it did in fact have normal arms and hands.

Well. Mostly normal. There were five fingers, but they were all way too long and ended in thick, claw-like points. He thought they also maybe had one or two too many joints.

More to the point, the alien couldn’t do anything with these arms because they were bound together at the wrists and tied tightly to the central support beam of the barn. It was stuck there, and going by the aggressive rumbling it was doing, it knew it.

Roman pulled out his phone and managed to take a shaky video of the alien, circling around it to both get a better angle and prompt it to threateningly twitch those back limbs some more. He knew his sci fi tropes, including the one where the alien mysteriously disappears the moment the plucky protagonist tries to tell anyone about the danger. He wasn’t going to be called crazy again.

Once he was content with the amount of evidence he had, he made the trek back to the house at a near-sprint, the cat in his arms protesting all the way. He burst through the back door, letting the screen fall shut behind him, and finally allowed Lady to walk on the power of her own four paws. She beelined for the screen door, stood up on her hind legs, and rattled it expectantly.

“Absolutely not,” Roman told her firmly, nudging her away. “I don’t know what it is with you and courting death via Xenomorph, but you are henceforth banned from the outdoors.”

If angry little kitty looks could kill, Roman would be as dead as King Duncan.

Shaking his head, he went over to the ancient landline phone in their kitchen, lifted the phone from its cradle, and paused.

Who was he going to call?

He’d had some half-conceived notion of calling his parents, or that infuriating police officer, or even just 911. What would he even say? ‘Hello operator, my emergency is that I have an alien in my barn, I promise this isn’t a prank’? Even the dial tone wouldn’t believe that.

And what if they did get someone out here to verify that there was a real alien? There was little doubt in his mind that law enforcement and then the government would quickly step in, whisking the evil version of E.T. away into some distant Area 51 lab. Roman would never see it-- or get any answers from it-- ever again.

He hung the phone up with a solid click, and turned to face the kitchen.

If he was going to interrogate a hostile alien, he needed to arm himself.

---

Shockingly, when he returned to the barn, the alien was still there.

He had crept up quietly again, hoping to catch it unawares, but this time it had been staring unerringly at him from the moment he peeked through the door, those smaller, rounder eyes wide open under its main ones.

He pushed the door open further with a dramatic flourish, pretending like he hadn’t been sneaking at all.

“Alien scourge,” Roman greeted, wincing at the crack in his voice. He cleared his throat, ignoring the way the alien’s dark gaze sent chills down his spine. “I don’t know how you ended up here, but I do know that you’re going to give me the information that I need.”

He pointed the end of his weapon of choice for emphasis, and the alien recoiled with a hiss, quickly jabbing out at it with those back arms.

Just as he’d hoped, however, putting vegetable oil on the already-slick plastic handle of the kitchen broom had made it basically impossible for those single-pronged limbs to stab or grab it. He grinned triumphantly, poking the alien with the end of it. The playing field had officially been evened.

“Now, unless you want me to introduce you to the Earth concept of piñatas, you better tell me what you’re here for.”

The alien was entirely silent, watching him with those shiny, pitch-black eyes. Behind it, its spider arms were vibrating with tension, probably in preparation to stab out the moment he slipped up.

“I’m serious,” Roman warned, poking it a little harder and getting exactly nothing for his efforts, not even a glare. “I know what I saw that night, and there’s no way it’s a coincidence that now you’re here. It was an abduction."

He paused for effect, and the alien let out a series of clicks and low, warped sounds that sounded like meaningless nonsense.

"I don't speak alien." Roman frowned. "Tell me what happened. Why were you-- or, your-- your brethren or your shipmates or whatever, why were they taking people? Where did they take them?”

The alien made what sounded like the same exact series of noises. Roman groaned in frustration.

“In-- In English! You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? If aliens are real and have the technology to infiltrate Earth without being detected, they have to have some way of communicating! An insta-translator or telepathy or math nonsense or something!” He threw his arms out in frustration, making the alien twitch.

He paced back and forth for a moment, before coming to a stop in front of the alien again and leveling it with an accusatory stare. “You’re faking it. I don’t believe that you can’t understand me.”

The alien just kept staring at him, flat plates where its mouth should have been, not a single expression visible on its face. It was about as convinced by Roman’s argument as everyone else in his life, which was to say, not at all. He felt a surge of white-hot anger, and levered the broom at its neck threateningly.

“Tell me, right now!” he demanded, stinging tears building up at the corner of his eyes. “Tell me where my brother is!”

He shoved the broom further forwards, and the alien snapped its limbs forwards and knocked it away, startling him into stumbling back. It hissed at him again, stabbing at the ground like a warning. He scowled, swiping at his face with a sleeve, and swung the broom handle at it sharply.

The swing went wide, more than a foot from touching any of it, but the alien showed the closest thing to emotion he’d seen so far, half of its eyes flinching closed in anticipation. Roman felt a sickening twist in his gut, some odd mix of guilt, anger, and vindication, and he turned away sharply.

Not for the first time, he wished he’d been the one that had been taken.

Remus wouldn’t care if the stupid cops didn’t listen to him, if their parents didn’t believe him, if the whole town thought he was insane. He would know how to convince an alien to talk, would threaten to-- to crush its extra eyes or cut off limbs or do something Roman was too squeamish to even think up.

If it was Remus, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t know what to do. He’d at least do something.

He wouldn’t be going through the motions of life like everything was the same.

Pretending had always been Roman’s specialty, after all.

Roman cast a furious glare over his shoulder at the alien, resentful that it was still staring at him even as he was in the middle of a breakdown, and tossed the broom into the corner.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said, swallowing back the thickness in his voice, “and every day after that until you tell me.”

Threat delivered, he stormed out of the barn and slammed the doors shut behind him.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #193

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re building the new guy everyone knows and loves, Prince Nezha! They’re an Ascendant Dragon Monk for their fire wheels and spear skills, as well as a Strength Cleric to pick up all those sacred treasures they get while still being the stabby stabby bot we all adore.

(I’ll be perfectly upfront right now; we did not have the time to read through Investiture of the Gods and Journey to the West to make one character, so they’ll be getting all the sacred treasures that we found while binging OSP’s videos on the latter. Also, lots of anti-demon stuff. You don’t need first-hand knowledge of a series to know that the “Demon-Hacking Blade” probably has some anti-demon features in it.)

Anyways, check out their build breakdown below the cut, or their character sheet over here!

Next up: The Mysterious Miss Moolah!

Race and background

Nezha’s more clay than metal, but they’re still hanging out in an artificial body, that’s a Warforged. They get +2 Constitution and +1 to any stat, so +1 Wisdom, as well as Constructed Resilience, so you don’t have to eat, drink, breathe, or sleep, don’t get sick, and have advantage and resistance to poison effects. Instead of sleeping, you take a Sentry’s Rest, spending 6 hours awake but not moving. You also get Integrated Protection for +1 AC. There’s more to it, but you’re a monk, you don’t use armor anyway. Finally, your Specialized Design gives you proficiency in one skill, I picked Animal Handling for the same reason I grabbed it for Nero. If you can “handle” the king of the monkeys, the rest should fall in line.

I meant beating him up, don’t be gross.

You respect your coworkers, which means to mortals you’d probably be an Acolyte, which gives you proficiency with Insight and Religion.

Ability Scores

Wisdom comes from making mistakes, and dear god have you made some doozies, so make that number one. Second highest should be Dexterity, you can fly, but only by balancing on wheels. That’s a high-stakes highwire act. Your Strength is next- going toe-to-toe with the monkey king requires a lot of it. Your Constitution is also above average, the zhenren sages don’t skimp on their designs. This means your Intelligence will be a bit low since we don’t need it for the build, but we’re dumping Charisma. There’s a bit of a disconnect between you and others, and also you have a lot of self-loathing issues to work through, which just makes hanging out a bit awkward.

Class Levels

Monk 1: Starting off as a monk gives you plenty of goodies, like proficiency in Strength and Dexterity saves, Acrobatics for balance, and History. I cannot emphasize enough about how all these servant builds should probably just get free history proficiency. You also get Unarmored Defense, which adds to your Integrated Protection for a total AC of 11+ your dex mod + your wisdom modifier. That brings your current AC up to 16 for a start, not bad. You also get Martial Arts so your monk attacks deal at least 1d4 (which grows as you level up), can use your dexterity instead of strength, and if you make one of those attacks as your action you can make another attack as a bonus action. Spears are simple weapons and versatile, not two-handed, so you’re in the clear.

Cleric 1: We’re gonna bounce over to cleric right away to become a worshiper of Strength. When you become an Acolyte of Strength, you learn one Druid cantrip, and gain proficiency with another skill- in this case, Athletics. For your free cantrip, grab Shillelagh. I know it says club or quarterstaff, but just hold the spear backwards. If gives you a d8 for damage, turns the weapon magical, and you can use Wisdom to attack with it instead of dexterity or strength. While we’re on the topic, you also get Spells now that use your Wisdom to cast and prepare. That means you don’t have a hard and fast spell list, but you can switch things up each long rest. For cantrips, Spare the Dying gives you beans of immortality that you can pop into a creature’s mouth as an action to stabilize them. You also get Sacred Flame for sacred flames, and Thaumaturgy to show off your celestial origins. As a strength cleric you’ll always have Divine Favor and Shield of Faith on tap, but you can also use Detect Evil and Good and Protection from Evil and Good for demon fighting.

Monk 2: We’re not going to focus on cleric too much though, we have martial arts to learn. At second level, you get Ki points equal to your monk level each short rest, letting you attack twice, dodge, disengage, or dash as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement, adding to your speed as you level up.

Monk 3: At third level you can finally set down the Way of the Ascendant Dragon, making your fists a lot more fiery. You’re now a Draconic Disciple as well as a cleric, so when you hit a creature with your fists or feet you can deal bludgeoning damage as normal, or acid, cold, fire, lightning, or poison. Obviously fire is the most in character, but there’s probably a baobei that works for the other elements if you really want them. You can also spend your reaction to re-roll a failed intimidation or persuasion check, succeeding once per long rest. I guess Nezha can be kind of scary when they want to be. You can also use the Breath of the Dragon, replacing one of your normal attacks with a cone or line of acid, cold, fire, lighting, or poison damage, forcing a dexterity save against your ki save (DC 8 + proficiency + wisdom modifier), taking 2 rolls of your martial arts die on a failure, or half as much on a success. If that monkey king’s modern iteration can get beam weapons so can you. You get Proficiency free uses per long rest, but you can use it more by spending 1 ki point per use. Finally, you can react to someone shooting you with an arrow to Deflect Missiles, reducing the damage, If it’s reduced to 0, you can spend a ki point to launch it back at them.

Cleric 2: Back into cleric for a hot second. Second level clerics can Channel Divinity in one of two ways per short rest. Turn Undead makes nearby undead run if they fail a wisdom save, but you can also use a Feat of Strength to add +10 to an attack roll or strength check/save. The Zhenren really don’t mess around.

Monk 4: Fourth level monks get their first Ability Score Improvement, so improve that Wisdom for a higher AC, better shillelagh attacks, and stronger fire powers. You also learn how to Slow Fall as a reaction so falling off your wheels isn’t quite as big an issue.

Monk 5: Fifth level monks get an Extra Attack per attack action, bringing your total in a turn up to two with just an action, three with your martial arts bonus action, or four with flurry of blows. You can also turn those attacks into Stunning Strikes by spending ki. This forces a constitution save on the creature you just hit, stunning them if they fail until the end of your next turn.

Monk 6: Sixth level monks get Ki-Empowered Strikes for magical unarmed attacks. If you’re fighting a triply immortal monkey it’s best to prep as much as possible. You also get the reason we’re here in the first place, Wings Unfurled. Now when you use your ki points to dash as a bonus action you get dragon wings for a turn, giving you a flying speed equal to your walking speed until the end of your turn. If you’re in the air, you will fall, but to be fair Nezha mostly uses this to go like, 20 feet up and divebomb someone, so it’s not a huge restriction. You can fly Proficiency times per long rest, or by spending a ki point each extra time you use it.

Monk 7: Our final level of monk gets you Evasion for better dexterity saves. You probably know the drill by now- failures are now as good as most people’s successes, and successes negate all damage. You also get a Stillness of Mind, letting you end a charming or frightening effect as a bonus action. Just hit ctrl alt delete on BeScared.exe, not hard.

Cleric 3: Now that your training is complete, it’s time to quest for all those sacred treasures. Starting off strong at third level, you get second level cleric spells, including the freebies Enhance Ability and Protection from Poison. You can also make a Spiritual Weapon to summon whatever demon-slaying tool you might need, creating a floating weapon as a bonus action that’ll move around and deal force damage if you use it each bonus action for up to 1 minute. Alternatively, you can use Hold Person to summon the Diamond Snare/Wukong’s headband/The five Golden Rings (there’s a lot of sacred treasures that focus on immobilization) to force a wisdom save on one humanoid. If they fail, they’re paralyzed for a while, or until they succeed on a save. Paralysis is nasty too, it gives attacks advantage to hit plus guaranteed crits when they do.

Cleric 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for better unarmed strikes and a better AC. You also get the Light cantrip to use your fire constructively.

Cleric 5: Fifth level clerics get a boost to Turn Undead, “turn”ing it into Destroy Undead instead. If a creature of CR 1/2 or lower gets caught in it, it’s just gone. You also get third level spells like Haste and Protection From Energy. Either get out of the way of the beam weapons, or shield yourself from them. Alternatively, grab spells like Spirit Shroud for a more heavenly aura, or Speak with Dead. You can literally just go to the afterlife to talk to them, what like it’s hard?

Cleric 6: You can now Channel Divinity twice per short rest, and you can also use that divinity to give out Rhonas’ Blessing! It’s like feat of strength, but it has a range of 30′ instead of self. You’re not the kind of person to hang out with weaklings.

Cleric 7: Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells. Dominate Beast is Wukong’s headband but for all sorts of creatures, and Stoneskin... yeah. You can also use Death Ward for an actual immortality bean that prevents one case of koing, Guardian of Faith to call in a favor from another celestial, or Banishment to make Lao Tzu take his goddamn pets back. If the target isn’t from another plane, they’re just gone for about a minute.

Cleric 8: Eighth level clerics get another ASI to max out your Wisdom for the best attacks, good defense, and stronger spells. Destroy Undead bumps up to CR 1, and you get a Divine Strike once per turn, adding 1d8 of an existing damage type to your weapon attack. They don’t call you “lancer” for nothing. Actually they do, you should be called “spear-er”, I guess.

Cleric 9: You get fifth level spells! Your freebies are Destructive Wave and Insect Plague, which aren’t super in character, but they do sound like something a sacred treasure could do. You can also call down a Flame Strike for some real fire power, turn your spear into a Holy Weapon for even more damage, Dispel Evil and Good to roll protection from E&G and a faster banishment into a single spell, or you can Summon Celestial to call down a coworker to help out. You get either an Avenger or a Defender, the former dealing more damage and the latter giving allies temporary HP.

Cleric 10: At tenth level you finally get a direct line back home, letting you call them up for some Divine Intervention. It’s a percent chance based on your cleric level, but if you succeed it’s basically up to the DM how much help you get. You can do this once per day, or after a week when it works. You also get the Resistance cantrip. You’re tough, it tracks.

Cleric 11: Destroy Undead hits CR 2, and you get sixth level spells. Planar Ally summons a celestial coworker for as long as you can pay them, but be prepared, it can be steep. You can also use Sunbeam for more fire.

Cleric 12: Use your last ASI to bump up Dexterity again. You know the drill, more AC, better unarmed attacks, the works.

Cleric 13: Your final level gets you seventh level spells, letting you Conjure Celestial for a much cheaper celestial companion that’ll stick with you for up to 1 hour. You can also Plane Shift to visit the heavens for yourself.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Flight is always good to have, event if it’s a limited trial version like yours. Hop over to where you should be, and keep out of range of anyone you don’t feel like fighting.

Strength Clerics are basically war clerics but better, and Feat of Strength will make it really easy for you to grapple, lift, push, or just be the powerhouse of the team.

Clerics are really versatile casters, getting healing, buffs, utility, and damaging spells, so your spell list will always be handy. On top of that, your dragon fists let you pick your element when you hit people, so you won’t be completely hosed by fire resistant enemies.

Cons:

You have limited resources for your best abilities, with only 7 ki points and 2 channel divinities per short rest. Wings Unfurled might let you instant transmission, but you won’t be able to spam it like they do on Dragon Ball Z, sorry.

For a strength-focused subclass, your strength score is pretty underwhelming. Sure, you can use Feat of Strength to power yourself up, but odds are there’s someone else who could put Rhonas’ Blessing to better use. Learn to share, it’ll help.

You also have a really low charisma, so don’t be surprised if you get into fights more often than you’d think. Also, it’s a good thing you got plane shift at level 20, because you might get banished a lot.

[dreamties]

Slashers W/ a Punk S/O

T/W- q*eer is used a few times- in a positive, self affirming kind of way. But I can add other trigger warnings if needed. :)

A/n- Literally no one asked for this, but I wanted to make more HCs like the soft pastel one...so I just went wild and made them. 

I included a little bit of punk culture into this as well, because it’s not just about the fashion, but since there’s such a vast variety within punk culture I mostly stuck with my experiences in the community, and some bits and pieces from documentaries(mostly live footage from “The Decline of Western Civilization”).

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Norman Bates, Michael Myers

Will make one(s) for Brahms, Amanda, Helen or Daniel if asked

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

so early 90s, the Riot Grrrl movement emerges

bands like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, Heavens to Betsy or Sleater-Kinney

it’s a very female-powered oriented movement, but I notice that a lot of minorities tend to be drawn to this music and community (LGBT folks, people of color, etc).

both boys, and yourself, being outside of the norm and all (polyamorous relationship, gay/bi) are sort of drawn to it!

and sure there’s a lot of really great queercore/homocore bands, and there’s probably a good LGBT+ punk scene out there somewhere, but in a little town like Woodsboro? Hell no. Sticking with this fem punk movement, while again mostly a space for women in music- it’s the most accepted the three of you have felt outside of you’re relationship. 

you’ve always been pretty into the music, stuff like Dead Kennedys, Black Flag, or the short-lived Germs- but it wasn’t until you stumbled upon Riot Grrrl that you really got into it. 

the music, making zines about local-ish political issues(probably not so much Woodsboro stuff, more Cali in general and neighboring towns) and a few ones with queer themes and hand-drawn illustrations of your partners, and DIYing all your clothes

since you’re so experienced with DIYing your clothes and sewing on patches, you’ve helped repair the Ghostface costumes on numerous occasions. they kind of adore this(Stu is the only one that will- and does, frequently- admit that)

Let’s face it, the three of you do everything together- but you especially enjoy when Stu tags along for thrift dates. 

he’s the more fashionable one, and he makes the whole experience more enjoyable- cracking jokes and just being his all-around goofy self.

Woodsboro is a very little town, so they don’t have much...but they do have a few small stores- usually you’ll make a whole day/date out of it though. driving to the next town or so over, since they have more stores and a better selection, and spending hours looking for cheap, old t-shirts, belts, clothes with funky patterns. heading out for pizza after.

Billy’s more likely to get into the music and everything with you(he’s kinda,, angsty, no offense to him)- will definitely go to shows with you.

just- imagine Billy in ripped jeans. and he’d have like one or two patches sewn on to it- one of them is your all time favorite band, and the other is a band that he found on his own time, and actually really enjoyed.

Stu is dragged along with you guys, you can’t just leave him at home- he’s gonna feel left out and sad. :(

He’s mostly there to keep y’all company- he really likes the energy of the shows though!

the two of them are such a chaotic duo though, so much so that you have definitely been kicked out or banned from a few venues. all for varying reasons. good grief these men can not be tamed.

The Lost Boys

as we all know, these vampires are total punks. so they’re gonna appreciate having a s/o who’s also into that whole scene.

How you meet:

you’re a baby punk, and it’s your first show ever, and you look so nervous. you’re dressed up in pretty plain clothes, a single homemade patch for your favorite band barely hanging to your jacket side(you were mid-way sewing it, when you realized you were gonna be late if you didn’t leave asap).

it’s a few local bands, ones you’d never really heard of really. you look anxious. but when they start playing? you look so unapologetically yourself, you’re so in the moment dancing- it’s completely mesmerizing to the boys. the music isn’t even that good, but you seem to be having the time of your life.

they greet you after the show, and you’re a tiny bit flustered- cause gosh, heck, they saw you. dancing. so embarrassing. 

David is the one that introduces himself and the group, and initiates conversation. Dwayne’s a pretty quiet guy, so he just listens to what you have to say. 

Marko’s pretty excited about you, and initiates in some small conversation, he may have complimented your little patch(Marko- patch jacket KING, complimenting your jacket?? more likely than you’d think) 

and oh, oh- Paul is out there being a total chatty-cathy, and is absolutely bombarding you with questions. like, okay, Paul is pretty talkative, but the other vamps are a little worried that he’s scared you off. and you had seemed so cool :(

you end up pretty engaged in your convo with Paul though, even if all the attention is overwhelming. He ends up snagging a date for the five of you the following week.

once you start hanging out/dating:

y’all just hit it off so well those first few days. they all love how sweet & shy you are- but also how much of a badass punk babe you are.

Marko helps make your patch jacket(collecting ones for bands you enjoy, how to make your own, sewing them on, etc). you probably could have done it w/out his help, but my gosh- you weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Marko gets really soft around you sometimes, since he doesn’t really do this activity with anyone else, it’s saved for you. 🥺🥺

Dwayne likes listening to you talking about the local scene(outside of the shows you go to- mostly about stuff he can’t attend, protests and meetings during the daylight.)

all of them(especially David) are very protective of you. I mean, generally. but also when you go to shows. they let you do whatever the heck you’re gonna do, but the mere second that someone even thinks about starting shit w/ you?? well, y’know. those vampire instincts kick in.

the four of them obviously share a lot of similar tastes in music- but they all have different favorite bands, & fave parts of the community. which, they can’t even fully participate in,, but it’s okay.

they, individually, introduce their favorite bands to you. and they get it in their head that oh, they said they liked it. they must like it as much as I do. and awkwardly coming out to the four of them, as they argue about your favorite band, “Well, actually- this *insert band they’ve never heard of or barely listen to* is my favorite.” and their just kinda like, oh, okay. please tell us more about them. 

so it’s sorta like,, you’ve been learning all this cool knowledge from them, now you get to share cool knowledge with them.

idk. I think it’s cute. 💕

Norman Bates

so first off- let’s just pretend Psycho was in at least the 70s/80s for a moment. because realistically- the punk subculture didn’t really exist back then.

baby boy is absolutely fascinated by the way you dress (mother is less thrilled though)

imagine your jacket is getting a bit weathered, and needs some repairs- so he helps you to sew edges closed, and make sure the patches aren’t on too loose, etc

he enjoys hearing your stories of all the past shows you’ve gone to. you always get so excited about them, and he finds that so endearing. But he pretty much leaves the actual punk scene to you because of these stories.

he was already worried from the stories, and made sure you were well prepared for any trouble every time you left for a show.

but one time, you were able to get him to join you. never again though. he was so nervous!

the music was too loud! and he could hardly understand what they were saying- it was so confusing!

you stayed with him most of the night, standing near the back, holding his hand. he’d gently bob his head to the music occasionally. 

but you accidentally found yourself swept into the crowd, but you looked so blissed-out in the moment, that he figured it would be okay for you to dance* over there for a little bit...right?  

*Norman is still unsure if you’d even call that dancing.

Thankfully, nothing bad happened in the mosh pit.

you gotta give him lots of attention and reassurance afterwards though- you almost scared Norman half to death D:

He’s happy enough helping you out and listening to you though- and that’s okay for you, too. you still love each other lots, even if this particular interest doesn’t overlap.

Michael Myers

he thinks you’re outfits are pretty interesting. 

he’s a little worried at first, when you start experimenting with putting things like safety pins in your ears. cause like- that’s not supposed to be in your ear, Y/n, what the fuck

if you make zines at all, Michael really enjoys watching you make the illustrations for them(not that he’ll admit to it though), and helps to find newspaper and magazine clippings to incorporate into the spreads.

you always show michael the final booklet before distributing it

he doesn’t talk a lot, so he doesn’t ask questions- but he often does the little head tilt once you give it to him. since he’s not very privy to current events, and a lot of your zines are political, you spend a lot of time explaining them in depth.

he has no use for any of this knowledge, but he listens on, intently.

Important note:

dear god do not bring this man to concerts and local shows with you.

it is a nightmare, to say the least

Michael is sort of,, emotionless sometimes, doesn’t really care for people at all, and if he does? definitely not in the same way most people do. 

so imagine combining that part of michael, the fact that he’s also a giant stabby man, with super loud, energetic- almost aggressive- sounding music and a bunch of strangers that aren’t respecting any personal boundaries. 

you need to keep him at the back of the venue- lest your local scene may go missing.

[fanfalc-616]

The Rights Of A Nindroid

Chapter Fifteen

(Prevoius Chapter Here)

(Discord Here)

Been a while since I’ve posted, sorry about that-

I’m supposed to be in school rn lol

When finally taken back to the lockers, after thirty exhausting hours, Cryptor feels as though he’s on the verge of a forced shutdown.

The damn brat had switched out with someone else, claiming something about an internship. And that had at least meant that the one hurting him no longer had a personal vendetta, but it was still painful.

Cryptor hates how close he had come to actually asking them to hurt Zane instead, but he didn’t. Though judging by the way the other looks when the two of them are put in the locker, they hurt him anyway.

DID THEY GIVE YOU A CHOICE TOO?

Zane doesn’t answer for a moment, likely out of surprise or maybe exhaustion.

I DIDNT GIVE IN

Cryptor snorts. Of course he didn’t. He’s a self-sacrificing dumbass, and it had been that knowledge that had allowed Cryptor to hang on himself.

HOW LONG A BREAK DO YOU THINK WELL GET?

It’s a morbid game, really, but the two of them had taken to guessing how long they would get before dragged out for testing or torture.

AT LEAST SIX HOURS WE WERE THERE FOR OVER A DAY

Mulls over the words, Cryptor considers the idea. Zane’s probably right, but he feels like arguing.

OR THEYLL WANT TO BEAT IT INTO US WITH A SHORTER ONE

There’s a pause, and Cryptor takes a moment to hate himself. Yes, start an argument with his one friend, that’s a wonderful idea.

IS SOMEONE HAVING A BAD DAY?

Cryptor snorts. Good, Zane can tell when he’s only pretending to argue. Probably picked that up from his teammates.

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

The friendly banter continues for a while, but Cryptor can eventually feel himself shutting down from exhaustion.

He taps out a goodbye and a quick explanation before falling asleep, hoping- but not expecting- that they’ll get today off.

{ { { { { { { { { { ~ } } } } } } } } } }

Jay is starting to lose his grip.

Kai had gotten himself under house arrest by breaking into the government building- which he neglected to tell them the location of before doing so- and since they live on the Bounty, they’re stuck grounded so that the police can make sure that Kai’s not leaving.

Also he’s been sulking the whole time.

It’s already been almost two months, but he still has another four left, and everyone on the ship is going crazy from it.

“I am this close to renting a hotel until his house arrest is over.” Nya holds up her hand so that her pointer finger and thumb are almost touching.

Cole sighs, shaking his head. “I’d join you, but at this point I’m scared of leaving him unsupervised.”

Jay laughs a little. “Honestly, what could he do that’s worse than what he’s already done?”

The two immediately snap over to looking at him.

“Are you trying to jinx it?!” Cole groans. “You know full well how crazy he can get when it comes to protecting us.”

Wincing, Jay accepts the point. “That’s fair. But I doubt he would-“

Lloyd comes running into the room. “Kai left the ship. He tied his house arrest bracelet to the roomba so it would move, and I don’t know where he went.”

Jay blinks. “I stand corrected.”

Then they’re all scrambling to their feet, rushing off to try and find the dumbass hot head that is Kai.

Cole runs outside, probably off to go look at his usual hiding places- he’s run off before, but never under house arrest.

Nya goes to her computer, most likely going to try and track his phone- that’s her usual go-to for when one of them goes off to do something stupid.

He’s not entirely sure where Lloyd’s going, but he probably has some kind of plan.

But before Jay has the chance to come up with his own, his BorgPhone rings with a number that he doesn’t recognize.

A flash of fear takes over him. Oh, Kai better not have gotten captured. What happens if he has? They might hurt him, he might go to prison, he could get into all kinds of trouble!

With shaky hands, Jay hits accept and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, this is Jay Walker. Who is this and how have I ruined your life?” Somehow, he manages to keep his voice from shaking.

“It’s more of your boyfriend who’s doing that.” Sentry grumbles. “I found Kai sneaking into Borg Tower- he was trying to find more hints of ways to rescue Zane. Please come and get him before he gets caught- I shoved him in a back room to keep people from finding him, but he’ll probably find a way out pretty soon.”

Jay curses softly. “Of course he did. Okay, I’m on my way.” He starts to head out even as he speaks, silently complaining about how reckless his boyfriend can be. He loves him, he really does, but sometimes- like now- he really wants to slap him.

It takes him around fifteen minutes to make it to Borg Tower, and when he steps inside, Sentry is standing right next to the door.

“He escapes from the room, so I put him in the timeout corner. He’s handcuffed to the wall, but I’m pretty sure that-“

Jay blinks a few times. “Wh- why do you have a timeout corner? And why does it have handcuffs?”

Sighing, Sentry shakes his head. “The white nindroids were created recently and are pretty immature,” he explains, “so a timeout is a pretty effective way to get them to behave. The handcuffs are for when they still don’t listen- now come on, we should hurry before he finds a way out.”

So Jay lets the nindroid lead him through the tower, trying to stop the way he’s nervously jittering. It- it’ll be fine, it’ll be totally and completely fi-

They come into a back room where Kai is in a chair and in handcuffs that are attached to the wall, forcing his hands above his head.

Jay glances over at Sentry. “Uh-“

“We have two timeout corners. This one is for the nindroids who cause trouble repeatedly. Or in this case, the ninja who does that.” He glares at Kai, but the red ninja looks utterly unapologetic.

“I need to rescue Zane. And you didn’t have to call someone to pick me up, I’m not some child in a school’s principal’s office.” Kai huffs, shifting in his bonds.

Jay starts to try and tell him that he’s totally acting like he’s just got his parents called in an office, but Sentry shakes his head, and speaks up.

“There’s a back door you can take him out so that he doesn’t get caught, but keep a better handle on him next time. We really don’t need him getting an actual prison sentence.”

Glancing at his boyfriend, Jay thinks for a moment, trying to figure out if he’d actually be able to get Kai out of here without being seen.

“I’m going to call Cole,” he decides, “he’ll be able to carry him out of here.”

“I can walk!” Kai protests, looking betrayed. “I don’t need to be carried-“

Sentry nods. “Probably a good idea. He might put up a fight on the way out.”

“I can hear you, you know! I’m right here.” Kai sounds annoyed and frustrated, and Jay sighs, feeling himself cave a little.

“It’s okay, Fire-Hazard. I’ll talk Nya out of murdering you, so long as you promise to actually stay on the ship this time.”

At his words, Kai pales a little. It’s clear he hadn’t thought about how his sister would react to him running off.

“I’ll behave.” He grumbles, clearly unhappy about it. “But I can’t just do nothing.”

With a start, Jay realizes that he’s right. The reason that he keeps doing stupid things is because he needs to be doing something to help- if he doesn’t, he’s going to feel like he’s failing Zane.

So they need to come up with something that he could work on, some way he could get them closer to freeing him.

Maybe if he was working on part of the plan…

Jay looks over at Sentry. “We’re looking for legal loopholes right now, right? Could he help you try and find some? From the computer on the ship, I mean.”

Kai perks up a little, and Sentry looks like he’s considering the idea.

“Will that keep him out of trouble?” He sounds hesitant, but Jay quickly nods.

“He just wants to help, give him a way to do that and he’ll be fine.”

The nindroid looks over at Kai. “Is he seriously going to be able to look through legal documents for longer than thirty seconds?” He sounds unamused, but he pauses again when he sees Kai’s determined expression.

“I looked through a ton of them to break in. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him out.”

After hesitating for only a moment longer, Sentry nods. “Alright,” he agrees, “I’ll send over some I haven’t gotten to yet.”

So Jay ends up only calling Cole so that he can let the others know that Jay found him, and Kai actually walks back without putting up a fuss.

It takes a bit of work to get him on the ship stealthily enough so that any potential cameras couldn’t see, but they manage it.

However, when they step onto the bridge, the three others look annoyed beyond belief.

After a pause, Kai chuckles nervously. “On a scale of one to ten, how much trouble am I in?”

“Eleven.” Nya’s smile expresses anything but happiness, and Cole and Lloyd look only slightly less upset.

Somehow, Jay manages to uphold his promise, talking Nya out of giving Kai some five hour lecture that would probably make him regret existing.

Lloyd grabs Stabby and re-attaches the house arrest bracelet, and it’s not long after that the red ninja is in front of the computer, having about seven files open that he’s comparing and researching.

Later, Cole comes up to him. “The research thing was good thinking; it’ll keep him distracted while still allowing him to help.”

Jay flashes him a smile. “What can I say? I actually have good ideas sometimes.”

Cole smirks. “That’s debatable.”

“You literally just told me that I had a good idea.” Jay reminds with his own grin.

With an overly thoughtful expression, Cole strokes his chin. “Did I? I don’t remember that.”

“Wow, and here I was with the idea that elephants never forget.” Jay snarks back, barely containing his snickers.

Mock gasping, Cole puts a hand over his chest. But as he starts to teasingly reply, his smile fades, and he looks down.

“... Zane loved mock arguments.” He murmurs softly, pain suddenly written on his face.

Jay feels his own cheerfulness drain a little. “It took a while to teach him how, but he got pretty good at them.” He quietly agrees as he remembers the difficulty Zane had used to have with humor.

“He got pretty good at them though.” Cole’s smile is more pained now, but it’s there.

With a soft chuckle, Jay nods. “Absolutely trashed us with them.”

But then the emotions are over taking him, and Jay feels himself shaking at the thought of his titanium boyfriend. Who knows what they’re doing to him, from Kai’s recount they’ve been outright torturing him, he-

Cole puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” He speaks softly, and his voice is uncertain, as though he’s not really sure of himself, even though it sounds like he’s trying to keep it steady.

Jay nods weakly, feeling tears burn at the back of his eyes. “It’ll be okay.” He repeats softly, desperately trying to believe the words.

In the end, Cole has to coax both him and Kai into bed with gentle reassurances and promises that he sounds slightly unsure of, but at this point, Jay’s too desperate to think about how he might be wrong.

He just wants Zane back… is that really too much to ask for?

Apparently, because it doesn’t seem that they’ll be getting him back anytime soon.

That night, even when cuddled in the arms of his other boyfriends, he cries himself to sleep.

Zane will be okay. He has to be okay.

Jay won’t be able to take it if he’s not.

[dweetwise]

Jeff ADOPTING THE LEGION! Like the glitch of 4 killers spawning and 1 survivor. The legion gets to have races and be stupid(er) for a match. Frank shows off how to totally do a gen!

[anon gets it. this was super fun to write, hope you enjoy!]

just legion being brats and jeff being a dad. some references to this ask!

Jeff babysits the Legion: ficlet

Jeff is in the middle of rolling up some bandages for his med-kit, waiting for the others to arrive at the pre-trial campfire. When the familiar smoky tendrils start creeping up his legs, he looks around with a frown on his face; nope, still just him. He’s reminded of the last time the Entity decided to start a trial with less than four survivors, and he groans in annoyance, hoping he doesn’t have to put up with three grizzlys this time.

When Jeff opens his eyes, he’s in the middle of Mt. Ormond's snowy grounds and predictably, he’s alone; not the most promising start. He reluctantly makes his way to the lodge, keeping a lookout for angry bears. With no heartbeat in earshot, Jeff crouches by the generator and gets to work, but as soon as the first piston starts moving, he realizes he has company.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here!” one of the Legion, he thinks Julie, sneers at him from the second floor, leaning cockily against the railing. “Man oh man, you came to the wrooong place,” a man in a skull mask comes up beside her, spinning his knife in a threatening manner. That must be Joey. “We’re gonna gut you like a pig,” Julie says, spitting out the word as she starts making her way down the stairs, sliding down the banister like an unruly child.

Jeff sighs and gets up on his feet. One of the Legion brats he can deal with, but two? Better to just get this over with.

“How are you both here?” Jeff asks, undisturbed by Julie getting right up in his face. “Not a very fair match, if you ask me.” “'Both’? You don’t know the half of it,” Joey snickers, probably sharing a knowing look with Julie; it’s hard to tell with the masks. Jeff is about to ask him to elaborate, when a sharp pain flares up his shoulder. “Oops, sorry!” a third member of the Legion--Susie, the one with braces, says from behind him, retracting the knife from his shoulder. “What’s a little stabby-stab between old friends, huh?” “I preferred when you paid me with beer, not stabs,” Jeff grits out through the pain, glancing at the faded mural he made for the group’s hangout what feels like a lifetime ago. “Ooh, he’s funny!” Julie mocks, gripping her knife better. “Don’t worry, you’ll scream soon enough,” she says, raising her hand. “That’s enough,” a familiar voice interrupts them and Julie lowers her hand without hesitation. Jeff sees Frank walk down the stairs with an annoying cocky swagger, Joey not far behind him. “How nice of you to intervene,” Jeff says to the group’s leader, trying to tone down his sarcasm. 

He’s always thought the Legion kids were nice enough on their own, becoming sort of an annoying hive mind when together, but Frank is by far the worst offender, turning into an insufferable asshole when he is with his little gang.

“Fatty,” Frank acknowledges him, making Julie snort. Jeff rolls his eyes at the juvenile humor. “Dude, what are you doing?” Joey questions. “Just kill him.” “One,” Frank begins, lifting his index finger. “This one’s the least dipshit survivor--not that that’s saying much. Two, as long as he’s alive, we can keep hanging out in the trial. And three--” Frank surges towards Joey, slamming him against a pillar and holding his knife against the other’s throat. “Don’t you dare fucking question me again or I’ll throw you on a hook and leave you to rot.”

Joey holds up his arms in surrender and Frank eventually lowers the knife, still leaning over the other teen menacingly. The air is tense with the threat of violence, and even Julie shifts awkwardly on her feet.

“Oooh!” Susie suddenly exclaims. “Was he the one who helped you when you were a baby survivor?” she asks cheerily, pointing at Jeff and innocently cocking her head.

As Frank sputters something unintelligible, clearly embarrassed, and Julie and Joey snicker to themselves, Jeff feels the tension fade and he can’t help but let out an amused huff of his own.

“I saved him! From a--from a fucking bear!” Frank eventually manages to stammer out. Jeff just smiles knowingly, and feels Frank’s stare digging holes into him as if daring him to bring up the events of their last trial together.

As it turns out, the Legion aren’t too bothered by keeping Jeff around so they can stay in the trial to fuck around. At first, they have a race along the long wall of the cabin, with Joey winning each one, until Jeff comes up with an idea.

“Why don’t I throw down some pallets and mark a couple windows, make an obstacle course for you guys?” “That sounds like fun!” Susie beams, bouncing on her feet and clapping her hands in excitement. “Whatever, I’ll still kick all your asses!” Joey boasts.

Jeff throws together a makeshift obstacle track around the shack side of the map, before giving a countdown to the bunch of unusually focused teens standing in a neat row. On his command, they take off in a frenzy, sprinting to the first window. It takes approximately five seconds for the fighting to start.

“You’re blocking me, asshole!” “Frank broke the pallet!” “Cheater!” “JUUDGE!!” Julie’s annoyed whine has Jeff make his way over to the commotion. He sees Frank on the ground, laughing hysterically while Susie is on top of him and is slapping him with his own mask, with Joey standing next to them, sulking. Julie turns to Jeff and angrily points at the remains of a pallet and Frank’s iridescent button on his jacket. “Frank, you’re disqualified,” Jeff says. “It was just a prank, bro!” Frank laughs while shielding himself from Susie’s wrath.

The three remaining Legion members redo the race, with Julie winning by a landslide. She’s in the middle of boasting to an annoyed Joey, when Frank’s face, now maskless, lights up.

“Bet you guys don’t know how to repair a gen!” “Uhh, yeah, ‘cause we’re not a bunch of pussy survivors?” Joey says, not eager at the idea. “I think someone’s scared of losing. Again,” Frank eggs on. “Oh you’re on.”

Jeff ends up teaching the other three how to repair the machine while Frank just shows off and gives obnoxious comments at the others’ failures. Surprisingly, Susie eventually comes out on top, seeming to be the best mechanic out of the four.

“How are you so good at this?” Julie asks, zapping herself on the wires again. “It’s like a puzzle! Super easy!” Susie beams. “Yeah?? Well try to do it when a bear is on its way to eat you!” Frank argues, clearly annoyed at having been bested.

When the group leaves the generator, the four teens stop dead in their tracks and turn to look at something between two rocks. Jeff hears the familiar sound of echoing winds before he sees the hatch. Huh, he hadn’t even considered the fact it would have been open from the very start of the trial, seeing as he’s the only survivor. He could jump in right now and leave, or one of the killers could kick it shut, starting the two-minute endgame timer. Either way, the Legion’s time together (and his time with them, he reluctantly admits) would be cut short.

“You guys want to make a bonfire?” Jeff suggests, pretending not to notice the collective relief in the kids’ postures at his suggestion. “I doubt the hatch is going anywhere for a while.” “I saw some marshmallows in the lodge!” Susie exclaims.

Frank gathers some rubble for the fire, while Joey helps Jeff carry two couches up on a small hill and Susie and Julie find some marshmallows and blankets in the lodge.

“This is nice,” Susie says later, huddled up in a blanket, sitting between Joey and Jeff and looking up dreamily at the starry sky, fire crackling in front of her with four discarded masks next to it. “These taste like shit and the stars are fake as fuck,” Frank says, spitting out the roasted marshmallow and leaning back on the couch in annoyance. “Well, it’s the nicest we’ve had since we got here,” Susie says quietly, nibbling on her own marshmallow and pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Susie’s right, lighten up,” Julie says, seemingly elbowing Frank under their shared blanket. “It’s been a fun day.” “Yeah, uh. Thanks, man,” Joey mumbles, and it takes Jeff a second to realize the man is addressing him. “Yess! Thanks for this awesome day Jeff!” Susie says, smile back on her face and actually leaning over to give Jeff a cute half-hug. “And, uh... sorry for stabbing you.” “Nothing a few bandages couldn’t fix,” Jeff says and gives the girl an encouraging pat on her back. “Feel free to come hang out whenever,” Julie says. “Yeah, Frank was right. You’re pretty cool,” Joey says. “I never said that!” Frank, predictably, denies. “But. You know. What she said. About hanging out,” he mutters, awkwardly looking away and gesturing at Julie. “Sure. This has been a nice change of pace. Maybe next time we can spray paint more of the lodge,” Jeff suggests with a small smile. “That would be so cool!” Susie beams. “You do realize we’re still gonna kill you in trials though?” Joey points out. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

When Jeff finally, and a little reluctantly, makes his way out through the hatch, he finds an obscene amount of bloodpoints waiting for him outside of the trial. There’s also a note, with messy symbols scrawled in an unintelligible language that he can inexplicably read--ah, a note from the Entity. He barks out a hearty laugh as he makes out the contents of the note: “Babysitting bonus: +100 000 BP”.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

If your Runaan is King theory is true, do you think there might be any parallels between Runaan and Lain friendship and Harrow and Viren friendship (before Viren was taken over by dark magic)? And if Harrow died before he and Viren drew apart, would he have asked Viren to take care of his kids (same way Lain did with Runaan)?

Oh man, this is such a fun question! Gosh gosh gosh. I think there should be parallels there, yes! Lain is Runaan’s BFF, and Viren was Harrow’s. Like, that parallel is already there. The BFFs have/had a wife, and the leaders have had spouses too. There’s a group of four for each of them, two couples, with these pairs of men as the closest friends. 

Both sets of relationships are complicated, and though we know a bunch of the issues Viren and Harrow have dealt with, we really don’t know much about Lain and Runaan’s friendship or how it’s affected their friend group and marriages, aside from two things: Lain got Ruthari together by encouraging Runaan to tell Ethari how he felt, and Laindrin trusted Ruthari with Rayla’s upbringing. That’s kind of all we got so far.

But I would love to see a handful more really key mirrors and parallels in place. Some things that are the same, and some that are different. That’s really how this show’s characterization works, so I’m practically expecting it.

Viren and Lissa divorced because Viren was creeping her out with his dark magic, apparently. Lain and Tiadrin are still together, and they fight as a dedicated battle couple. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t face some kind of crisis moment too, where maybe Lain had a hard choice to make and Tiadrin decided to support him instead of pull away--or maybe Tiadrin was the one making the choice. 

Maybe it involved having Rayla? Or joining the Dragonguard? If Lain was the one invited, and he really wanted to go, Tiadrin would have to choose between staying with Rayla or staying with Lain. That’s a big echo of Claudia’s “Don’t make me choose!” right there, so maybe there’s something to that? (I have an angsty hc that Runaan, as the assassin leader, sent them both to the Storm Spire for many reasons. If one of them was to prevent Tiadrin having to choose, and if he chose to suffer the loss of both so they could remain together, gosh...) If they struggled with a decision and then left together, then Runaan and Ethari would have to support their friends’ departure while trusting that they’d be stronger together. Oh man, the feels.

Harrow and Viren are both men who will do things on their own if they must. We saw Sarai as more of a “I can go with you or leave you to your folly but clearly you need my help” kind of person when it came to the Magma Titan mission. And iirc there’s a tweet out there saying that Tiadrin and Sarai would be great friends if they met under peaceful circumstances. 

So maybe Tiadrin, with her tactical mind, has the same approach as Sarai, and Lain is more of a “Dude, bro, dude, let’s just do the thing, bro my dude my guy, I gotchu.” He’s very supportive, but that can also become enabling if it goes a little too far, so maybe Lain has gotten Runaan into some tight spots, or at least not talked him out of said spots, over the course of their friendship? And it was Tiadrin who saved their butts, which she does not let them forget. I can see Sarai teasing her boys about their follies and her needing to save the day, too, gosh I love that.

We don’t know what kind of societal role Lissa had. I’ve been assuming she didn’t fight like Sarai did, but I could be super wrong on that. If she isn’t a combatant, then she actually kinda parallels Ethari. Three fighters and someone who doesn’t fight, but with the pairings are swapped. That just adds more possibility to the paralleling options, though. 

And I’m wondering, maybe Runaan and Ethari had a moment like Lissa and Viren, where Ethari might’ve had to choose whether to stay with this stabby idiot after he saw something very unpleasant. Perhaps it was Runaan getting his scars? Viren sacrificed someone (presumably) to save Soren’s life. Perhaps Runaan nearly sacrificed his own on a mission. There’s a really dark parallel with these two about how little they value life--extra ironic and complicated for Runaan as a Moonshadow--and I can totally see a big scary moment happening where their spouses realize exactly how different their loved one’s philosophy is from their own. Except that Ethari stayed and Lissa left. and now Runaan has gone but Viren remains, aaaaa

I wonder how the other couples might’ve played out, there. When Viren and Lissa split, how did Harrow and Sarai handle it? What did Harrow try to do for his friend? Did they try to reconcile the couple? Probably. That could’ve felt like political pressure to Lissa. And I wonder if Harrow even knew what Viren had done to save Soren’s life, that he killed someone. I bet Viren wouldn’t tell him that part. Maybe he even lied, because his need to be Harrow’s friend, to be close to power and allowed to practice his magic, was so strong.

Lain and Tiadrin would’ve tried to talk to Runaan and Ethari too, I’m sure. They’re both assassins, just like Runaan, so they’d see his side, and Ethari might’ve felt very pressured as well, to just submit and go along. Not just as a freaked out spouse, but as the craftsman who made weapons for the assassin leader and for others, keeping them safe. If he left... who would keep Runaan safe? That’s kinda sus, bro. But I can see the Moonshadow logic in it.

Viren has attached himself to Harrow as friend and protector, and he’s dedicated years of his life to helping Harrow protect their people. Possibly Lain had the same motivation? “This guy’s important, so I wanna be his friend and help him out with that.” That’s not a bad thing at all. Viren’s motives were a little tainted by dark magic. Maybe Lain’s a stand-up guy. But maybe he also has some kind of self-interest involved in being Runaan’s best friend, too. Moonshadows be complicated.

tl;dr: Yes anon I am very here for an interwoven, complicated friendship between Lain and Runaan that involves spouses and plenty of good and bad history, similar to the long and complex relationship between Harrow and Viren. I am jonesing for more moonfam backstory so bad.

As to your other question, I do think that Harrow would’ve wanted to entrust his children to Viren before he and the dark mage drew apart. The question that arises for me is: when did that begin? 

I think it began with Sarai’s death. Harrow had his own plan, but he trusted Viren and did it his way, and he lost his wife in the process. Fifty thousand lives is a lot more than one life. But that one life was the most precious one to Harrow, and it made the sacrifice personal in a way that losing fifty thousand citizens never would be. 

Harrow might still have given his kids to Viren. But Amaya was also a choice. The general or the mage? Neither are super safe for a childhood environment.

Interestingly, in this parallel, Amaya is a lot more like Runaan: the fighter, who would’ve trained Callum and Ezran to fight because they grew up in such a dangerous environment. I wonder if there was another option for Laindrin to give Rayla to, one that was more magical, or more dubious? Lujanne comes to mind! Hah, can you imagine? Crikey!

I think that if Harrow and Sarai needed to give their boys to someone, Sarai would advocate for Amaya and win: “With troops like Gren and Corvus and the whole Standing Battalion to protect and raise them, there’s no safer place in all of Katolis!” It sounds like something Tiadrin would say about leaving Rayla with Runaan and Ethari, amidst the assassin corps. It’s not ideal by miles, but I can see why she, as a warrior herself, would see safety and a like-minded community as the strongest benefits.

If it was only Harrow, after Sarai died, it might still be Amaya, because his trust in Viren had begun to fracture, but it’s hard to say. I get the feeling that Harrow has never really seen Viren as dad material, even though he has kids. That hug thing in the S1 novelization was really weird, and I will never unsee Viren saying “familial clasp.” Viren, why are you like this. Anyway, Harrow might just decide that leaving his kids with a guy who literally doesn’t know what a hug is, might not be the best move for their emotional development.

He’s a good dad, an angry widower, an iffy king, a great jokester, a loving husband, and a loyal friend. He’s as complicated as Runaan is, kings or no. But I hope that he and Viren had many years of true friendship, just like I suspect Runaan and Lain have had. Positive, healthy relationships are good for everyone.

Please though, TDP, moonfam friendship stuff. This parallel is begging to happen and things don’t feel balanced without it. What’s that, there’s not enough time? 

*magically sprinkles five extra minutes onto each episode* Reality schmeality.

[dreams-of-kalopsia]

Fictober Prompt 21

“Change is annoyingly difficult.”

Voltron fanfiction (Plance)

No warnings apply.

Read it on AO3.

____

Part 1 (Pidge): Timing

Part 2 (Lance): Intuition

Part 3 (Colleen): Grounded

Part 4 (Hunk): Change

Hunk senses something wrong the moment he lays eyes on his best friend. Lance is sitting alone at their usual table, elbow propped and sulking face resting heavily on his fist. His other hand pokes at his food with a spork.

“Stop that,” Hunk scolds as he takes the seat across, carefully placing his lasagna-laden tray on the table.

Lance stops. But only to give him a sullen glance.

He shakes his head in annoyance. That’s when he sees the half-finished tray of food beside his friend’s. Everything clicks in his mind.

Pidge was called away again.

“Who was it this time?” he asks without preamble.

Lance’s answer is a grumbled “MFE pilots.”

“Aww man, again?” Hunk groans. “We don’t see Pidge her first week of being grounded. She gets a little leeway, and Sam, Matt, and Slav drag her around with them for days. They finish whatever they were doing, and the MFE Division takes her away—with me, because apparently they’re big fans of Voltron’s tech team, but that’s beside the point—and now the MFE pilots want something from her again?” He throws his hands up. “What about us? We haven’t hung out for weeks!” He then points at Pidge’s tray. “Pidge didn’t even enjoy her food long enough to realize I made it, in celebration of our supposed hang out day!”

Another grumble. The weak reaction aggravates Hunk, and he crosses his arms.

“You didn’t notice either, did you.” A statement because his friend clearly hasn’t. “I’ll assume it’s due to Pidge bailing out on us and not my culinary skills.”

No response other than louder stabby noises and a sulkier Lance.

“Ugh. I miss her!” he gripes. “Don’t you?”

A flash of regret crosses Lance’s face.

It’s a stark contrast to the confused, embarrassed blushes he’s had for the past two months or so. Hunk can’t remember exactly when he began seeing the expression, but he’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen it on his friend until around three weeks ago. At first, he thought it was because Allura’s been spending most of her time with Romelle and Coran in the hospital wing, waiting for the Altean pilot of that Komar-robeast to regain consciousness. He didn’t even connect anything when news of scary Mrs. Holt grounding the Green Paladin of Voltron first reached their ears. But after repeatedly watching Lance make that expression at every mention of Pidge, Hunk is now sure that it’s a Pidge issue his best friend is having.

And he thinks he has enough facts to put together to figure out what’s been happening with his friends.

Fact number one: Pidge likes Lance. She told Hunk herself.

Fact number two: She used Hunk’s cheesy, thoughtless pick-up line—a fact that will forever crack him up—on his best friend. Lance told him himself.

Fact number three: Lance also said that he’d tried asking Pidge about what she meant but ended up taking her to Varadero for sunset watching instead. How he managed to turn an impending serious talk into a day trip, Hunk will never know.

Fact number four: Pidge was grounded the day after and disappeared for a week.

Fact number five: She’s been spending less time with Hunk and Lance since her reappearance. Okay, no. For the benefit of the doubt, Hunk will allow that she’s become so busy she barely has time to hang out. That still implicates her because she doesn’t make time for them. She’s not the only busy Paladin on Earth, after all; if he and Lance can do it, she should’ve been able to do it, too. So the benefit of the doubt doesn’t work for her… well, benefit.

Sooo something happened in Varadero convincing Pidge that Lance rejected her, hence why she’s limiting her interactions with him without making it obvious that she is—which, contrary to what she believes, she’s being totally obvious about.

“I wasn’t rejected, Hunk. I just decided to give up on him,” Pidge said around a mouthful of peanut butter cookies he’d given as secret bribe, during one of their breaks from upgrading the MFE units last week.

Give up? On Lance? As if.

As if Hunk doesn’t catch the longing glances she’d send their friend when she thinks everyone’s too distracted to notice. As if she doesn’t stare after Lance with a regretful expression on her face the exact same way he sees Lance do.

Yeah.

He chomps grumpily on a heaping spork of lasagna.

As if.

Hunk hates that he’s the only one who notices stuff like this. He hates it. But what he hates more is his inability to leave ostensibly well enough alone once his gut tells him that something’s off. And what he hates most is his perceived, reluctant duty to be the voice of reason that points everything out to everyone else. Because that’s how he ends up standing right in the middle of things whether he likes it or not, how he unwittingly advertises himself as mediator when things turn out to be a full-blown conflict.

It’s exhausting sometimes. Getting to say ‘I told you so!’ loses its vindicating satisfaction when one gets to do it all the time. Still, bringing up an issue so the people involved can address and resolve it is an awkward task he’d willingly undertake if it means they’d all get along again.

But that’s the problem with the current thing he’s embroiled in. There’s no issue. No conflict, no falling-out, no friendship broken. Just Pidge dealing with rejection in the maturest manner Hunk has seen from her and Lance acting like he’s lost her even though she never left in the first place.

It’s like watching two people dance expertly around each other. Except one twirls in pirouettes of classical ballet, the other breaks it down with hip hop moves, and neither of them is aware of dancing at all. As a frustrated spectator on the sidelines, Hunk is honestly starting to worry that his motion sickness will return one of these days.

A resounding stabbing sound causes him to jerk his head up towards the source. He finds Lance staring out onto the hallway beyond the mess hall’s window, fingers frozen and tines of his spork impaling a slice of lasagna rather morbidly. Following his friend’s gaze leads Hunk’s eyes to Pidge, who’s talking animatedly with Nadia and James.

Oh boy. Great timing, Pidge.

She meets their gazes and sends them a genuine, apologetic look, but she doesn’t spare them a minute to give an actual apology. In three seconds, she’s walked past the windows, disappearing on them again. She makes it look so easy.

“Gotta admit, that one hurts a bit,” Hunk says with a wry smile. His best friend releases a miserable sigh at the same time. He turns back to Lance in surprise. “Chill, dude! It’s just one missed hang out day. No need to be that dejected.”

The stabby noises resume with increased force. He resumes eating his food.

“Look, you’re being dramatic. It’s not as bad as that time Eliza Moreno rejected you—no, no,” he corrects himself, “You didn’t really like her; you just liked flustering her. Okay, so not as bad as when Noelle Page dumped—”

“I dumped her.” Whoa, a response, albeit grumpy.

“Yeah?” Memories of that messy one-sided breakup resurface in his mind. “Yeah, right!” He slaps his forehead. “How could I forget! Remember how she waited crying outside our bunk room until you talked to her? Even our COs couldn’t take her away.”

Lance’s sulky frown deepens. “I don’t think anyone could forget.”

“So not as bad as when Mila Chen—”

“She was over me by the time I became fighter class.”

“Oh. What about when Sophie Carson—”

“Turned out to like Madison Boyer?”

“…That didn’t bother you? You were courting her for some time, right?”

“To help make Maddie jealous and confess to her.”

“Ooh. An ally, I see.” Hunk raises his cup to his friend, impressed by this inside info.

Lance just scoffs.

“Okay, wait. I’m sure about this: Jenny Shaybon. The only Jenny who ever mattered to you. You had a really good thing going on for over a year before she left the Garrison to chase her dreams.”

“We parted as friends.”

“You did?” Hunk pouts, then sighs. “So I guess it’s not as bad as when Allura and Lo—” Lance strikes the table with his palms.

“Why are you going through my romantic history, Hunk?” he demands, still miserable but now also fed up. “Just tell me what your point is.”

“My point is that you don’t have to feel as bad about a missed get-together as a failed relationship.”

Though Hunk’s tone is placating throughout his explanation, his best friend shoots him an affronted look. “First of all, my relationship with Allura hasn’t failed; it’s actually just about to start. Secondly, I don’t feel as bad about this as you think.”

“So stop looking like you do.” The words seem to strike Lance like a direct, physical hit, and Hunk has this acute feeling that he just said the wrong thing at the worst possible time.

But why?

Before Hunk can begin to figure out what he said wrong, Lance gathers his and Pidge’s trays and quietly stands up.

“Uhh, where are you going?”

“I’m heading back to my room. Sorry, Hunk. Let’s hang out another day.” Lance walks out of the mess hall without another word, head bowed and shoulders slumped.

“…Wow. Left behind twice today,” Hunk grouses once he’s alone. “Leave me a third time, why don’t you. I feel the love.” He chews angrily while preparing for another bite. “What was that for, anyway? I just pointed out what I see.”

Why’s Lance so touchy when it comes to Pidge? She may (pretend to) have given up on her feelings for him, but it’s not like she’ll ever give up on their friendship. Besides, it’s not like he knows about how she feels. Oblivious when it matters, that guy. And yet he acts all broody as if he’s the one who got—

A sudden idea skews Hunk’s perspective and with it his spork of lasagna. The chunk falls with a small splat on the table. The metallic clatter of spork hitting food tray follows soon after.

The way Lance acts whenever Pidge is mentioned…

It’s as if he’s the one who got rejected.

“Hoooly crow,” Hunk mutters to himself, palms finding their way to his temples. “What?!”

He knows not when the change in his friend happened, only that it did. He also knows that it complicates everything. It adds unannounced contraflow lanes to a one-way expressway. It flips the script on itself after getting flipped once already. It turns a straight line into a triangle.

And this change…

“…is annoyingly

difficult

.”

____

Thanks for reading! Names of Lance’s non-canon exes credited to @artemisarya. You’ve been a huge help! ^u^

[honeybee-babe]

Sharing is Caring (Except When You’re Sick) Part 3

Part three of my collab Sick Luther and Sick Klaus fic with @hargreevesstyles. Can also be read on her blog!

Meanwhile, at the CVS check-out counter, Klaus held the sleeve of the hoodie Diego had forced him to wear up to his face.

“Hih… xngt-ishuu! Ht’TDZshieww!” He scrunched up his nose afterwards and the itchiness that had barely been affected by the sneezes, and rubbed his hoodie-sleeve covered knuckles underneath his nostrils to prevent another outburst. Diego tried not to watch. He would definitely be washing that before he wore it again. In fact, maybe he’d just give it to Klaus.

“Bless you, dear!” The middle-aged cashier flashed him a warm smile as she put the cough suppressants and expectorants (“Might as well get both, knowing you!”) into a brown paper bag.

“Thanks! I’ll take that!” Klaus said with a grin as he took the bag from her, punctuating the sentence with a watery sniffle. Diego rolled his eyes, not looking up from the card reader as he punched in his pin. The total was a bit higher than he’d hoped for, but he tried not to let his frustration show. At this insistence of Vanya’s frantically scribbled list, they’d stocked up on tissues, cough drops, Gatorade, the whole nine yards, even buying extra of the stuff they already had at home. Plus Emergen-C for Klaus. And ice cream, he’d insisted on ice cream (“It’s for Luther! It’ll help with his throat.”). Yeah, right. But Diego had agreed, not wanting to waste time arguing with a pouty Klaus. He just wanted to get home and give everyone their pills ASAP.

“Always best to plan ahead, I guess, hmm?” The cashier smiled at Diego, holding up the last remaining item -- Echinacea -- and putting it in the bag turned to Diego. “You make sure your boyfriend takes this right away before that cold gets worse!” Diego blushed deep red. Klaus chuckled out loud, stopping himself when he felt a bit of a tickle forming in his throat at the tail end of it. He cleared his throat subtly, which subdued it, but it still lingered a bit.

“Will do. But he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my brother.”

“Oh my god.” The cashier brought her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay. We’re not exactly twins -- and I’m not sick,” Klaus said with a proud smile. “It’s for my brother.”

“You’re sick?” The cashier looked at Diego with a raised brow.

“No,” he sighed, “he means our other brother.”

Speaking of brothers and twins, Five was surprised to find Allison and Vanya speaking in hushed tones in the living room. He licked the peanut butter off his fingers as he stood in the entryway and watched them deep in conversation

“I don’t know, Van. But I’ve never seen him so sick, he’s always had a pretty decent immune system”.

“But then how did he get so sick?” Vanya asked, voice soft and scared. “I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t,” Five cut in, crossing his arms smugly over his chest as he stepped into. Allison whipped her head up at him and shot him daggers.

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about, Five.”

“Let me guess, you’re talking about Luther, who is sick, and you’re trying to figure out how it happened.”

“Is this some sort of weird twin thing?”

“No, Allison. It’s a having-a-brain thing.”

Five explained how it really hadn’t been that difficult to figure it out, even without his ability to literally jump through his brother’s locked bedroom door -- which he’d only done once, when he heard him whimpering, thank you very much. The fact that Luther had been holed up in his room for two days was enough for him to draw that conclusion -- and let’s just say the largest Hargreeves sibling wasn’t exactly the best at stifling his sneezes. Plus, Five had passed by the pot of chicken soup boiling on the stove. It had to be for someone.

“And to answer your previous question,” Five turned to Vanya, “have you ever tried living in complete isolation for four years? Because I doubt you would feel very healthy when -- “

“We come bearing gifts!” Klaus stood in the doorway to the house, holding up one of the paper bags from the drugstore up above his head with a huge grin on his face. Even despite his chipper energy, his red-tinged nose and slightly-more-pronounced than usual pallor was unmistakable. As was the slight hoarseness of his voice.

Diego trailed behind with two more bags, filled to the brim. You couldn’t even see his face behind them. Vanya rushed to grab one of the bags off of Diego. As they started unpacking everything, Klaus started laughing.

He joked, “What, are we opening up our very own hospital?”

“Come here, ghost boy. We’ve gotta get some of this stuff in you,” Diego ordered.

Klaus groaned and sat down next to his stabby brother. Diego opened the Emergen-C and a water bottle and poured the drink mix in. He shook it up and handed it to Klaus who just set it down beside him.

“Drink it, headass,” Five said.

Again, Klaus groaned. He opened the bottle and drank about a quarter of it. As soon as he put the bottle down, Diego was forcing pills into his hands. Mucinex and Sudafed along with a couple of cough drops.

“I’m not sick!” Klaus said.

Vanya jumped in, “You’re going to catch it. The thermometer I brought downstairs that Diego took your temperature with...I had just used it on Luther and I don’t think we cleaned it in between uses, and...yeah.”

“Hh’-gkSCHh-nGXTchiew! Hh’tsxchyuu!” Klaus caught the sneezes in his palms like normal, but what he forgot was that Diego’s sweatshirt was about four times his size and the sleeves draped over his hands. “Sorry.” He sniffled lightly.

“Bless you,” Allison said pointedly.

The attention of the whole room was on Klaus, something he’d usually bask in but this time he felt vulnerable and uncomfortable in the spotlight.

He grumbled, “I’m not sick! I sneeze all the time!”

Five shrugged, “He’s not wrong.” Still he picked up the thermometer off of the coffee table and blinked over to Klaus’ side. “Open up.”

“Really? This? Agai-ow, what the hell, Five?” Klaus scolded, as his tiniest sibling tried to shove the thermometer in his mouth as he was speaking. Klaus ripped the device out of his brother’s hand and put it in his mouth. After it beeped, he looked at it. “Look, 98.7. It’s pretty much the same as last time.”

“You went up a tenth of a degree,” Diego noted.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “What-fucking-ever, Diego!”

“Take the pills already!”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that from you,” Klaus chuckled.

It was Diego’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah and it’s the fucking last time too so don’t get used to it.”

Klaus ignored him and swallowed the pills dry. With another threatening look from Five, he took another swig of the Emergen-C.

“I’m gonna go check on Luther,” Allison said.

Five added, “I’ll come with. I’ve yet to see him in all his sick glory.”

The two disappeared, Five actually walking with Allison instead of blinking away.

“Hehht’TSCHHhyeu-nkTT!” Klaus moaned lightly after.

“Bless you. Where’s Ben?”

Klaus rubbed his nose vigorously. “Uhh, he’s right here. Yeah. No, no I’m not. Shut the hell up! Whatever.” He turned to face his visible siblings. “I will not be manifesting Ben for the time being, as he is being a complete bitch!”

“What’s he doing?” Vanya asked.

“Pestering me! He’s all like ‘Oooohhh Klaus! This is exactly how Luther was at the start! Blah blah blah!’ like, I don’t care!” Klaus ranted. “I feel fine! I know that you’re all used to me being useless but I actually think I’m okay for once and no one will hip off my fucking dick!”

It was silent. Klaus sighed. He felt guilty. Sure, Ben was annoying him but Klaus was the only way his siblings could see Ben. He couldn’t keep him from them like he was his master. He didn’t want to be like that.

“Whatever,” Klaus muttered. Slowly, Ben became visible.

Klaus tuned out the conversation as he slumped back down on the couch.

Up in Luther’s room, Allison and Five were trying to give Luther everything they could without absolutely filling his stomach cavity with different types of medicine. They used some spray Klaus found that was supposed to numb your sore throat. Luther said it didn’t work.

They waited a few minutes after applying everything. Allison was impatient to see improvement. She hated seeing any of her siblings feel like this, especially Luther. He was supposed to be their leader, and when he couldn’t lead them who was supposed to?

For the next hour, Allison checked Luther’s temperature every fifteen minutes. It finally dropped back down to 100. Still a fever, not not nearly as bad as his 103.4 degree fever from before.

“Allison?” Luther asked weakly. His voice had become so much more raw and broken as his coughing had increased. “Can I have another cough drop? My throat hurts so badly.”

Allison nods and goes to give him another one. She hands him two this time, just in case. She then announces that she’s going to go get some tea for him because the cough drops aren’t working as well as she’d like.

All Allison can think about is how sick Luther was. She had had to change his shirt because of how sweat-soaked he was. Luther was obviously embarrassed but he let Allison do it without complaining. That was a big clue to Allison that he was really miserable. He had started having more productive coughs, ones that were wet so everyone in the room could feel his sickness.

Five had left shortly after Allison had taken Luther’s temperature the second time. She didn’t know where he went, but she knew that Five didn’t like seeing his brother in such discomfort. Luther wasn’t one to really show how he was feeling. He was almost always still as a stone. It was odd for them to see him break his walls down for once.

As Allison poured the tea into the kettle, a quiet voice asked, “Can I have some? Only if there’s enough water. Diego said I should keep drinking it just in case.”

“Of course. Sit down,” Allison said.

It was Klaus who had entered the room and he sat down quickly and quietly. Allison would have noticed that he was acting off if she wasn’t so worried about Luther.

“I’m gonna take this up to Luther and then I’ll come back down to hang out with you,” she promised.

Klaus shook his head, “No no no, you don’t have to. You can stay with Luther, I know you want to. You don’t have to feel obligated to stick around. I’ve got Ben here.”

“Klaus, I want to hang out with you,” Allison’s voice faltered. “I thought it would be nice.” She couldn’t help but be upset that Klaus thought she was only offering to hang out with him out of pity. That’s what Klaus was used to: people pitying him.

“Oh, okay then.” He grabbed a napkin off of the center of the table and held it up over his face. “Hh’eiishieww-ishhew! H’nxght!”

“Bless you. You sure you’re feeling alright?”

Klaus nodded, “Must be pollen or something. Diego took my temperature and I feel pretty okay otherwise. I’ve been sneezing all day, but that’s something I’m pretty used to.”

He was right. Klaus was a pretty sneezy guy. Due to his several-year-long relationship with snorting cocaine, Klaus was set off by almost every strong smell there was. He had grown up being allergic to pollen and he had found out in his late teens that he was quite allergic to cats. Klaus wondered if there was anything Luther even could be allergic to on the moon. Moon dust? Recycled air? He didn’t know.

“As long as you’re not feeling too badly,” Allison said.

“Hihh...hh...fuck I...hh’ishhyu! Ugh. My god!”

Allison giggled.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Allison continued laughing.

Klaus feigned anger. “What’s so funny?”

“You just had that dramatic ass buildup for that tiny sneeze!” She confessed.

Klaus cracked a smile but then quickly went back to faking his furiousness. “My sneezes aren’t tiny! They’re quite average, thank you very much! They come out so damn fast sometimes, it’s like they’re all on top of one another. They all fuck me in the ass one after another. It’s like a damn orgy but without any orgasming.”

“One time I read that if you sneeze enough it can make you orgasm,” Allison doted. “Not sure if that’s true though.”

“I’ll have to try it out someday,” Klaus said. “Not today though.”

Allison joked, “You better be quiet about it because Diego would not be happy to hear about you triggering your allergies or your asthma on purpose.”

“You’re doing what?” Diego’s voice came in.

“Nothing! Just fun and games, that’s all,” Klaus said.

“Allison mentioned your asthma is it acting up? Are you feeling alright? Christ, Klaus you have to tell us these things Allison where’s the thermometer-“

Klaus laughed, “Calm the hell down, Diego. It’s not acting up, I promise. I’ll tell you if it is, you know that!”

It was times like this where Klaus really saw how much Diego cared for him. He could become so worried in .2 seconds and it always threw Klaus off of his game. Part of Klaus’ whole routine was people not caring about him and it kind of threw a wrench in things when people started to care.

Diego looked at Allison with the same urgency, only calming down a bit when she nodded her head in agreement with Klaus, who was sniffling and rubbing at his nose.

“You mentioned his asthma --”

“In jest, Diego. Jeez, lighten up!” Klaus play-chastised his brother, shoving him lightly with his free hand, which of course left his brother completely unfazed. Diego was similarly unfazed by Allison’s explanation of their previous discussion. While Allison and Klaus chuckled again, Diego’s jaw remaining locked and he rolled his eyes.

“Hilarious. Klaus is getting sick, Luther’s upstairs hacking his lungs out and you think it’s the perfect time for a stand-up routine.”

There was a silence after that. The spoon Allison was using to stir a cup of tea hovered in mid-air. Even Klaus’ sniffling and nose rubbing stopped as he stared at Allison in excitement, waiting for her response. Finally, she started stirring the cup of tea again.

“Yes, Diego. My brothers are sick,” she said, voice calm. A small smile on her lips. “And I’m making them feel better by being a nice, pleasant presence. You should try it, god forbid you might like it.”

“For real, D, don’t be a dick. Sissy is a mom, she’s the best at this kind of thing -- see?” Klaus took the cup of tea from her hand as she offered it. “Thanks, Ally!” He blew on it as Diego shot him a look. “Hey, you’re good at this stuff, too, man!” he quickly added on. Klaus was truly grateful for all of the times Diego had helped him out in the past when he was sick, before he was sober. But now his brother went into panic mode the second he heard him sniffle. It really killed his vibe.

“You’re just a little… intense,” Klaus said with a small grin, quickly covering it up as he raised the mug to his lips. He sipped way too quickly. Not only did he burn his tongue, but steam rising from the mug made his nose itch. He rubbed at it again to delay the inevitable reaction.

“Well, if you’d been in my shoes all these years maybe you’d understand why I don’t think it’s funny to see you make a joke out of it when you’re sick.”

“But I’m not even sick!” Klaus bit back, in that same whiny tone Diego had become familiar with over the years. His nose chose the perfect time to finalize its reaction in that moment. He hastily set the tea down on the counter as he again buried his face in his hoodie sleeve. “nxXGsht-ixgtshu! Hih! H’dtZshiuhh--fuck!”

“Not sick my ass-”

“Bless you!” The three siblings whipped their heads to the entrance to the kitchen, but Vanya was standing at the stove seconds later, having rushed in in a panic. She was just as bad as Diego. She fussed over the large pot of soup boiling on the stove, lifting a small spoonful up to her mouth to taste-test and blowing on it. “Diego, I told you to watch it while I was gone!”

“Sorry, Van, I was too busy watching over our idiot brother.”

“Rude!” Klaus gasped, moving his hand to cover his mouth in pretend shock.

“Klaus, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick yet?” Vanya asked, as if it was an inevitability. She turned to look at him for concern, the spoon still raised to her lips, her anxiety over his well being overpowering her anxiety over dinner. Diego swapped anxieties with her, diving in with another spoon and tasting the soup without blowing on it before she could bring the spoon to her lips. He burned his tongue in his haste, but he nodded through the little wince of pain.

“It’s done.” Vanya shifted her focus back to her own soup-filled spoon and finally tasted it, nodding in agreement.

“Klaus, come get your soup.” Vanya started ladling the soup into the six bowls she had laid out.

“Wait, it’s for me?” her curly-haired brother asked in mild shock (again, people caring about him was not the reality he’d known most of his life). Though what came across was annoyance as he crossed his arms over his chest. He’d sat at the counter watching them prepare the soup for the last hour, sniffling discreetly and rubbing his nose as Diego rapidly chopped vegetables and flung them into the pot with perfect accuracy, Vanya quietly stirring and adding the seasonings. “Give it to Luther, he’s the one who needs it. I’m not--”

“Klaus, eat the damn soup!” Ben had apparently appeared behind him, and he could hear the eye-roll in his voice. Klaus’ living siblings had blinked at him when he’d apparently cut himself off mid-sentence, assuming he was going to sneeze, since he’d cut himself off in the middle of the sentence. When it didn’t happen, Allison sprung into action, picking up a bowl and putting it into Klaus’ hands. She chuckled as she brought a perfectly manicured hand up to his cheek and patted it gently.

“Klaus, do you really think we made this whole pot of soup just for you? And you guys say I’m a narcissist.” Klaus watched as Diego shook his head and walked over to the table with a bowl of soup, Allison and Vanya following shortly after.

“Oh.” Klaus looked down at the soup in his hands and tried to hide the little smile that had formed on his face. He knew for a fact that they had made the soup because of Luther and him, and even if he was convinced he wasn’t sick, the fact that they cared so much and they were going to make a family dinner out of it made him feel just a little bit warm and fuzzy.

“Where’s Luther?” Klaus asked as he set his soup down on a placemat. “Shouldn’t he be the one we’re worried about feeding?”

“He’ll eat in his room. He needs to be quarantined,” Diego said, blowing on a spoonful of his own soup.

“I’ll bring him some!” Klaus rose from his seat.

“Absolutely not.” Diego shot him daggers. Klaus slumped down into his seat with a pout and scooped up a spoonful of soup. “Allison, why don’t you bring it--”

“Oh, no, let him be. He’s asleep.”

“Again?” Allison gaped. “Well I guess that’s what his body needs more right now.”

“Mmmhmm,” Vanya responded a little too quickly, putting her water glass to her lips almost immediately afterwards and taking a big, audible gulp. All these years and she was still a terrible liar. Thankfully, everyone was so preoccupied with eating -- and, in Klaus’ case, trying not to sneeze -- that they’d let it slide.

Around twenty minutes prior, Vanya had left her precious soup entrusted to Diego’s care and walked upstairs to Luther’s room to check on him and ask if he was ready for dinner. Afraid that he might actually be asleep, she opened the door slowly and carefully, not making a sound. The sight that greeted her had been pretty surprising, and even more so touching.

Luther was lying on his bed in the fetal position, barely fitting on the twin XL mattress. His blankets had been pulled back up to his chin, hopefully due to the fever breaking. He was wheezing in that careful way that meant one miscalculated breath would send him into the harsh, liquidy coughs he’d been producing for the past hour or so, thanks to the hefty dose of Mucinex.

And at his side sat Five, probably the only one of the siblings who could fit next to Luther’s massive frame on the bed. He looked down at his brother with intense concentration, brows furrowed as he traced constellations on his broad back with his index finger.

“Gemini,” he announced softly. Despite his expression, his voice carried an air of tenderness Vanya hadn’t heard from him in years. Not since they were kids, and even then it was rare. And he never used it on her. Only Luther, and only when he really needed it.

“The twins,” Luther wheezed out, a small smile playing on his lips, which quickly dissipated as his jaw went slack with a shaky breath. Five quickly retracted his hand, just as Luther buried his face in his blankets. “Heh-nGXTchiew! Hahh-nXXT!” He was stifling again, and judging by the slight curl in Five’s lip, Vanya knew the reason why. Five had never done well with germs, and she caught his slight flinch when Luther’s blanketed form contracted a third time. “S-heh!-sorryfive-

‘nGXTSCH! Hhh’nXGTschiehh. Hhh… heh!”

Luther tensed in anticipation, and so did Five; Vanya could tell he was about to bounce. So she decided to be a good sister and do something about it.

Concentrating on the sound of Luther’s breathing, she focused her energy on his nose, sending little waves of energy flowing outwards against the walls of his nostrils from within, and thus applying pressure from the inside out; something she’d been doing to herself lately, whenever she had to sneeze in a crowded place, or just didn’t want to attract any attention to herself. She released her hold when Luther’s breathing evened out.

As if on cue, Luther let out a deep, wheezy sigh. Five relaxed again, chuckling a bit as he put his finger back gently on his brother’s back.

“That was a first. Gesundheit!” His voice still held the soft tone Vanya had feared it might lose. “How about Libra next?”

With a small smile on her face, Vanya had slipped out of the room even more quietly than she’d came in.

She walked back to the kitchen, satisfied with her ability to stop Luther from sneezing, and she wondered if she could possibly do the opposite. She would get to test this theory out at dinner.

[booksneedcaffeinetoo]

BOOK REVIEW: Ignite the Stars by Maura Milan

Ignite the Stars by Maura Milan My rating: 5 of 5 stars

She’d go along with being a cadet for now, until they’d all forgotten about the Blood Wolf within their ranks. Once their defenses were down, only then would she flash her teeth.

So book twitter, book tumblr, book instagram, goodreads. You have all failed me. WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS BOOK?!?

IT IS SO FUCKING GOOD.

So we are blessed with three POVs:

Ia:

Rebel against the Commonwealth. Has a kick ass helmet. An icon™. Also, a pilot. And on the cover. I'm in love. She's badass.

From close inspection, she noted the doors were locked with fingerprint scans. Every single one of them. She scratched her head. Well, then, she would have to cut someone’s finger off.

Her POV was always hilarious to read. I found out about this book because Ia was listed on an anti-heroine book list. And she is totally an anti-heroine. She's stabby. She's killed. She's smart. She's cunning. I stan a legend.

Brinn:

A super smart, die-hard Commonwealth stan. Wants to work in politics. Has blue hair. Dyes it brown (because people suck).

History was an examination of the past, but there was no hope in the past, only sadness and despair. All she wanted to do was look ahead where the future was bright and blinding. And hers.

Brinn had SO MUCH growth in this book. Like honestly. So much. What a cute little nerd. No spoilers, so I'm going to keep hush hush about dear old Brinn.

Knives:

The youngest flight master in RSF history. You know he's probably hot. I mean, every single space pilot in movies and TV is hot (Poe, Ray, Cassian, Han Solo, Lotor, Keith, Shiro, I could go on...).

Knives wasn’t going to go easy on them. He was going to work the new cadets until they ran home, crying to their parents. Until they had nightmares of him.

He likes to think he's scary but really he's a big softy. And he is so conflicted. He lives in a near constant state of inner turmoil.

Where has this book been my whole life? 

It's great. Usually when a book is underrated, I like to give a few comp titles to help readers figure out if they would enjoy the writing style or plot, but honestly, IGNITE THE STARS is something else entirely. It's in a league of its own. It has a fun plot, with hilarious banter, fleshed out characters each with their own motivations, great supporting characters, good character growth, I love the relationships, and each POV has its own style (even though the book is written in third person).

The b a n t e r.

Especially between Knives and Ia.

Gold.

Pure gold.

Exhibit A:

“And one more thing,” the boy said. “You will be bound twenty-four hours a day. Except during lessons and scheduled meal hours.” “So when I go to the bathroom, you’ll be wiping for me?” “If that’s what you want.” The boy looked up from the journal with a daring grin on his face, which only made her want to rip his throat out.

Exhibit B:

“I know you’re trying to figure out how to escape,” the boy said smugly. He pointed up at the ceiling. “Those vents are welded down with a solid layer of pure vinnidium and sealed with five inches of concrete. The ceilings are thirty meters high, impossible to get to unless you have a windpack.” He shrugged. “I dare you to try though. It will make things more fun.”

Exhibit C:

She pushed at Knives’s cheek gently. “Dummy,” she whispered at him. Then, finally, she was out cold. Knives stood over her, waiting for any sign of consciousness. He tapped her in the center of her forehead. Nothing. Thank Deus. He’d thought she would never shut up.

And you can't forget the friendship between Ia and Brinn:

“Who’d have thought that I’d have the Blood Wolf of the Skies as my personal bodyguard?” she said. “You’re lucky I’ll do it for free. My rate’s pretty steep.” Ia smiled smugly.

Or even this gem:

She searched through the dark for Brinn’s face, expecting a warm welcome. A hug, a hello. Anything. Footsteps stomped toward her, followed by the sting of a palm against her face. All right, that worked too.

Also this book explored both sides of war. Of how each side hurts, even if you believe what you're doing is right. Which was super cool to read about.

The ending was spectacular. (tbh I adore this book, but still not entire sure why the government would recruit its number one threat...but this book was so fun so who cares)

I need the next book. STAT.

Content Warnings:

bullying, prejudice against refugees, torture, war, murder, imprisonment, mentions of slave trade/slavery, mentions of suicide, hate crime,

View all my reviews

[gamearamamegathons]

Dragon Warrior IV: Adventure Storybook

Circe here! Let's get right into Dragon Warrior IV. You may be thinking that it's time to embark on another epic quest, but Dragon Warrior IV is already throwing a curveball our way. The game opens with a screen that tells us we're starting Chapter 1. The game is broken up into chapters now? That's right! Chapter 1 has us playing a royal guardsman of Burland named Ragnar, who is tasked with traveling to a town further north with the other royal guards to investigate the disappearance of a bunch of children. Ragnar is a simple sword-stabby guy who starts off hilariously weak, as you may expect from the start of a typical Dragon Quest game. After a bit of grinding to get to a level higher than 1, we travel north to Izmet and poke around to figure out what's going on. The day/night cycle from the previous game is back, and uncovering the mystery of Izmet requires us to talk to people at different times of day. There's an amnesiac named Alex who's in jail for stealing bread, but all the kids like him...there's rumors that a kid who disappeared was playing with some weird shoes...there's a strange tower nearby that's surrounded by water...a lot of weird little details. Poking around town, we find someone who says that they remember seeing Alex back in Burland, so we head back, and we find out that he's some poor woman's husband who was attacked by monsters. Reuniting the two of them, I think, leads to the clue of where the children have been playing in the forest, and following that lead takes us to a collection of huts with a dungeon hidden in a well.

A mysterious voice leads us to the depths of the dungeon, where we find an item called Flying Shoes. Seems promising. But now we're getting into encounters, and Ragnar can't simply warp out of here. Luckily, we come upon the first unusual new feature of Dragon Warrior IV: a Healer monster named Healie wants to join us, so he ends up in the party. Our new monster companion can't be commanded or use spells outside of combat, but he'll automatically heal us as needed. The dungeon is kinda tough for a low-level warrior and his slime buddy, but we eventually make it out with the shoes in hand. Well...only thing to do is try them on, right? As soon as you use the shoes, you predictably fly up into the air, and then land on the roof of the nearby tower, where you witness someone carrying a child away.

This tower is an even more difficult dungeon for poor Ragnar to handle with just Healie to help him. Luckily, there are multiple places where we can jump off the tower and land on the other side of the water to go back to town, so it's possible to spend some time leveling up and getting deeper into the tower a little at a time. When we finally reach the basement of the tower, we find a wizard-like monster named Saro's Shadow who is apparently responsible for kidnapping children. It seems that this monster is trying to find a destined Hero, who is presently still a child. After rescuing the children, Ragnar is left troubled by this revalation, and he sets out on a quest to find and protect this Hero.

And that's the end of the chapter! Ragnar's little story closes out, and we're introduced to a new character. I find this very interesting, because it's structured very differently from any of the previous games, or how you'd typically expect a JRPG to be structured. I assume that eventually we're going to start a main quest of sorts, but I haven't gotten that far yet, so I just have to wait and see where this is all going. Chapter 2 introduces us to Alena, tomboy princess of Santeem. Her father doesn't want her going out adventuring, but of course she does the sensible thing and kicks a hole in the wall of her room and climbs down the roof to head out. Alena is a pretty straightforward hit-things character like Ragnar, but she's joined by two servants, Cristo the Chancellor, and Brey the Wizard. Brey is an offensive spellcaster, whereas Cristo is a bit different -- 'Chancellor' is an odd class, but apparently what this means to Dragon Warrior IV is that he can cast healing spells, but also equip pretty heavy weapons and armor. Not bad at all. We do start over at level 1 with the whole cast, which is interesting and pretty unusual, but I can't say I'm too terribly bothered by that.

Alena doesn't have a directive more concrete than 'go adventuring', but there's only one path to take, so we head northeast to a small town named Tempe. People are having a pretty bad time in Tempe, because a monster has taken up residence in the forest and started demanding sacrifices. Didn't we do this already last game? Well, luckily, the monster is not anything as fearsome as Orochi, instead it's another one of those wizard-like monsters, this one called a Chameleon Humanoid. We kill it off, and merrily head on our way. Alena's quests continue in this vein, just fixing local problems as we stumble upon them. After this, we find that a *fake* princess has been kidnapped and ransomed, so we find the trinket the kidnappers want and rescue her. This gives us a thief's key. Soon after, we found that Alena's dad has lost his voice, and we have to find a macguffin in a dungeon to cure him. So we do that too. We learn that he's been having dark, mysterious dreams, so that's cool. Since Alena's adventuring ways actually helped the king, he decides to stop interfering with our adventures, and that opens up the path to the kingdom of Endor, where a tournament is being held, with the winner being married to the local princess. Apparently, if the winner is a woman, she won't be forced to marry, which...I mean, let's be honest, she's totally crushing on Alena, so whatever.

The tournament involves Alena fighting five opponents by herself, and since she can't do much on her own, we basically just load up on Medical Herbs and chomp down to keep her alive. The final opponent is a very strange yeti-looking thing called Linguar, who has the infuriating mechanic that he splits into four copies each turn, and only one is the real Linguar. It...sucks, and it took me way longer than you'd expect from having a 1/4 chance. But whatever. Throughout the tournament, we hear tell of a mysterious and powerful individual named Necrosaro, but when it comes time to face him, he's nowhere to be found. Very strange. With all these little mini-quests solved, Alena hears news that something is wrong back home, and she heads back to find that everyone in Santeem has vanished without a trace. Very...very strange.

So okay, this was a very plot-heavy recap, which I think says something about how this game's approach is different from any of the previous ones. The change in structure changes the experience a lot -- the engine is mostly the same, but so far we've been dealing mostly in the early phase, where you advance quickly and you feel like you're getting stronger quite rapidly. I can't really complain -- there would be a certain charm to playing an entire game of mini-stories where you pretty much just spend the entire game in the level 1 to 15 range. But I'm guessing that's not how things will actually play out.

There are a few quality of life improvements here and there. For example, 'DOOR' is now a command, rather than requiring you to fish around in your inventory for a key every time you need to open a door. This game also introduces a series first -- doors that open without keys! Shocking, I know, but some doors can simply be opened without a rare and valuable quest item. You can also check which characters can equip certain weapons and armor without trying to hand it to them one at a time, although you still have to go through the motion of purchasing it and then canceling out if it turns out nobody can equip it. The game also seems to be trying to do more complicated things, like Blazeghosts which can sometimes cause another Blazeghost to leap out of them when attacked, or the Linguar splitting into four copies of itself. On the whole, though, the engine is pretty similar, as I would've expected. But I like the interesting way the game is structured, and more than anything, I like going back to a point where advancement feels relatively quick and I'm not getting constantly beat up no matter what I do. It's nice! We'll just have to see how long it lasts.

[lisbetadair]

50 Thoughts Everyone Has Playing Call of Duty: Ghosts for the First Time

I have arrived, fashionably late, to this game which is now four years old. Here are a collection of live Discord comments made in real time, put together in sequence. 

1) Start up screen music is a bit gloomy period drama, Imho  Like, is this the video game adaptation of Wuthering Heights?

2) Okay. This is deffo sounding like some goth shit.Oh. Gameplay  is starting!!!!

3) Ooh. It's all gone a bit Akira.

4) Ah. We are now at the traditional Call of Duty running and jumping level.

5) There's a war on, but that doesn't mean a man can't sculpt a decent set of sideburns #heshlifelessons

6) IF YOU WANTED ME TO HOLD THE HELICOPTER IN THE LINE OF THE LASER JUST BLOODY SAY THAT!!! I swear that took five minutes to work out.

7) See, if I imagine the dog to have a Cockney accent, it just turns into Gaspode.

8) Also, I kind feel that Hesh bears a resemblance to someone? Who was that guy in Modern Warfare again? You know, this guy: 

9) I'm on a derelict bus in I Can't Believe It's Not Pripiyat and Hesh just told me to bite someone's bum.GROWL. SCUFFLE. SCREAM. Such stealth. So kill. Wow.I am a good doge.

10) You know, this game would probably be a lot more fun if there wasn't all this IRL chat about building walls to keep South and Central Americans out of the US.

11) Time for another level of Call if Duty: Goths

12) Pretty impressive sniffing out Ajax through all the CS gas and old hot dogs. Good doge.

13) I'm still not entirely sure why we are now in a baseball stadium driving a car that's on fire.It must have been love at first sight.

14) It's stabby, barky shooty time again! This time we're playing the Totally Not Defending The White House level

15) Riley is Ramirez 2.0 really.

16) Ooh. Jarod from Storage Wars turned up in the helicopter.

17) OoooOoooOooh! Big reveal! 

18) "Dad! DAD! You're one of them!" "And I would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for my own pesky kids!"

19) Every time this map loading screen comes up with the black ink effect I'm like, "Rourke! Ex Ghost. Commander of Federation Forces! You will board my helicopter, cross the wall and restore the heart of Ti Fiti"

20) "Rourke? I was just a lieutenant back then..."

21) Twelve years wear out of that black bandana? That's value for money there.

22) "Look for heigher ground!" "What like that multi storey car park we just ran past?"

23) Okay. I'm intrigued to know why Ramos knows where Rourke sleeps? #ishipit

24) I'm going to try a level of Call of Duty: Daddy Issues.

25) I'm not saying it's entirely a rip off Modern Warfare, but blowing up a dam the grounds of disabling all forces might give yours an advantage is very similar, if a little more low tech, than using a nuke to create a big ol' EMP over the Western US.

26) Ok, we're in Caracas now and Hesh Keegan is doing his best moody modern Batman crouched on a paraphet above the city. Goth level: exxtra

27) Oh my God they just did the Batman thing where when he's got the mask on his face is not painted but when the mask comes down: sudden panda eyes!

28) Cannot legit believe Hesh just shouted "You tried to kill my Dad!"Someone needs to have a word with him about infosec 

29) Have we ever been in a building in this game that has not been falling on us?(edited)

30) Can we stop with anybastard can fly a helicopter thing?

31) Also, is it just me or were the instructions for this game less than fucking obvious most of the time?

32) Attempting Call of Duty: Linkin Park again! 

33) "Make sure you catch Rourke alive!" Chucks him out a window fifteen minutes later

34) Alright edgelords, enough with the flowery torture prose.Why is "torture a man until he becomes one of us" such a popular trope?

35) Ok, I know I shouldn't, but I laughed when you stab the guy in the Jeep and when he slumps forward, the horn gives a little toot.

36) Oh it's the "Help! Help! My brother is hurt!" routine.

37) Also, why am I responsible for placing all the defences??

38) Disadvantages of the "enemy uniforms" and generic white dudes scheme is that I've just followed some rando around this car park. 

39) Oh. An oil rig level. How original.

40) Oh. A snow blizzard level. How do they think of all these new ideas??

41) Kicky kick! Kicky kick! Kicky, kicky, kicky, kick kick!

42) When you got to animate Call of Duty at six, but Reef Diver 2 at nine...Lot of love went into this level

43) I feel like I'm in the ocean zone of the Crystal Maze.

44) Oh God Rourke is annoying.

45) It's quite hard to shoot straight with doge whining plaintively in my ear...

46) Lot of people shouting "PUSH!" Is this a battlefield or a labour ward?I like the bookending of the game narrative with the use of the orbital weapons

47) Annnnd all done!

48) Oh FFS! That can fuck right off.

49) The actual sequel is their Mum turning up and rescuing them, co written by Guillermo del Toro and Rhiannon Pratchett.

50) Played by Helen Mirren with Joanna Lumley as her sidekick and everyone is lured into their trap of helpless old lost ladies, and then the knives get pulled out. Someone legit gets stabbed with a knitting needle. There's a grenade hidden in a parrot handled umbrella. They crochet their own balaclavas

[longroadtome]

hmmmm.... 13, 17, and 19 maybe?? (for the DnD askmeme)

Thank you so much for asking me these!!! You don’t know how happy it made me! Sorry if this gets long

13. Introduce your current party.

okay so im in three campaigns at the moment and that would take forever to write so ill just introduce one of them (though if youd like to hear about the others or thurg just ask). So there are five pcs in this campaign: a fighter, a cleric, a monk, a rouge, and a wizard.

So first we have Jesper, tinkerer extraordinaire and gun smith. Earnest and doe eyed, innocent little Jesper. He’s an atheist and a pacifist, he cried for three days after the first person he killed. Refuses to believe in divinity after meeting a literal goddess. Believes in the good in others, a little too trusting at times, willing to bet his life on almost any deal. Smart and friendly sunshine boy. Once lost pool to a duck. Has saved all our asses at some point. Got a little broken a few sessions back after a particularly harrowing series of fights. Most recently single handedly lit the fuse of the bomb that killed 600 people, has yet to deal with that.

Next there’s Samara, a shifter who conceals her race. An assassin turned doctor, she works to make up for the sins of her past. Wont take bullshit from anyone, tried to refuse to speak to her deity once. Really would just like to take a nap. Other than that ??? (her player doesnt interact much)

Now for Rajani your local rebel, fashion icon, and mom friend. Total party glue, where would we be without her nobody knows (dead we would be dead). Talk shit get hit, painfully multiple times. Catchphrase “hit me bitch” has only regretted it once. Big heart, bigger wardrobe. Has a literal kickass prosthetic. Would probably adopt half the party if they werent already adults with parents. She is a terrifying force to be reckoned with, do not anger her, i repeat do not anger her

Next we have Aralie, bitingly sarcastic stabby person. She has at least 26 daggers on her at any given time, she has used most if not all of them. If youre an asshole dont let her in your home, on a totally unrelated note she has a knack for finding and stealing shiny things. Grew up on the streets and will do anything in her power to help orphaned children. Is somehow the only one who can speak celestial. Will make you face the hardest judge of all, yourself. Do not engage in battle you will end up with a face full of knife and you wont hear it coming. Will probably get herself killed by refusing a health potion

And for last, certainly the strangest, we have Gary a literal duck. Honestly a bit of an asshole. Has three bullet holes in his hat, will likely attain more soon. Has been threatened to be made into duck soup many times. Intelligence 20, Wisdom 0, once got himself arrested on a naval base for impersonating a naval officer while said officer was escorting the party. Continues to buy sushi from the sketchiest place ever despite it making him sick every single time. Has decided to multiclass into monk. As a duck, he has no hands or feet

17. What are some house rules that your group has?

Umm, I’m kind of blanking here so Ill see what i can think of:

if you can explain exactly how it works you can do it

if you are capable of creating the materials for a spell you can cast it without a focus (duck poop contains sulfur, if you have enough duck poop you can cast fire ball)

exploding critical- if you roll maximum on a damage die for a critical hit, you get to roll it again and keep adding until it doesnt roll maximum

critical heal- before casting a healing spell or drinking a potion, roll a d20 on a 20 heal maximum from spell/potion

19. Do you or your party have any dice superstitions?

Oh my goodness, yes do we. Dice jail is real, if it consistently performs poorly it gets sent away and another set takes its place (rip me for rolling four nat 1s in a row with three different dice sets). Dice roll best when they are assigned to the character you are rolling them for, they dont do so hot if assigned to another character. Always leave your dice with the highest number up, it trains them. Dont let the DM use your dice, they will be corrupted.

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 3: Lima - In Which I Visit Pisscat Park

After my first proper, uninterrupted sleep in...god knows how many days at this point, you'd think that I might have woken up to my first full day in Lima – and indeed Peru as a whole – with a spring in my step and a song in my heart (a welcome change from the limp and funeral dirge pounding away in my guts that I normally have to endure), however this was unfortunately not the case. Be it from jetlag, overexertion or just my chronic and inexplicable inability to ever feel good, I felt thoroughly and irredeemably mangled.

I peeled myself from the bed and oozed my way to the bathroom. The toilet sported a sign above it which warned me against putting sanitary towels or toilet paper into it. Laughing, I pointed this out to Sam, believing it to be a translation error. I mean where else was I supposed to put my toilet paper, right?

“In the bin.” Came her response.

I laughed again.

“I'm not joking. You're supposed to put toilet paper in the bin, here.”

I stopped laughing and instead slinked, silently deciding then and there to pretty much just ignore that rule when such a time came that it might be pertinent. It's not my sewage system, after all; why should I care if it breaks? 1-0, Lawrence.

The Airbnb in which we were staying was decked out with almost none of the amenities you'd realistically want for preparing food, so, after our breakfast of children's cereal, eaten out of a mug, without a spoon, we were fairly keen to see the back of it and head out into the city for a bit of exploring.

I had pieced together a fairly relaxed agenda for the day, which led us round some of the nicer, less stabby areas of Lima. We walked first along the seafront boulevard, which afforded us both our first ever glimpse of the Pacific Ocean with our own two (four?) eyes

Wow, cool...

oohing and ahhing at the various sights, sounds and smells that the boulevard had to offer

Ooh...

Ahh...

while dodging and weaving through a haze of remarkably persistent tat-peddlers, all trying desperately to part us from our money in exchange for pieces of gaudy turquoise jewellery or stale muffins, sold from broken, leaking plastic containers; dismissing each one with a curt “no, gracias” and the quiet hope that they wouldn't mug us.

Shockingly, our cup full of chocolate cereal didn't do much to satify our hunger for very long, and so we ducked into a seafront creperie for some food, which I am loathe to describe as brunch and which, to be honest, wasn't particularly good, either. I ordered the ceasar salad crepe, which, honestly probably only met its own description by the barest minimum of standards. The sauce was watery and insipid, the chicken overcooked and the crepe itself tasted very strongly of banana. It felt a little like eating everything left in the fridge at the same time, the day before a big food shop. Still finished the whole thing though. I'm not a proud man.

Our walk then continued through an outdoor shopping mall, which was carved, picturesquely into the seafront, which, comparative to other malls in which I've been, was very nice, but was still...pretty much just a shopping centre and offered essentially the same views as the rest of the boulevard did, but with added gaudy designer clothing outlets, so, honestly, it probably wasn't really worth visiting, at all. We did meet Paddington there, however

Paddington, back in his native land after unfortunately being deported due to bear-brexit.

so that was nice.

Continuing our tour of things-that-weren't-as-good-as-we-expected, we walked some fair distance to our next stop: Barranco, which we were told was an artsy little community, full of galleries and artisanal shops and all that hipster bollocks

pictured: wank

however, the parts we saw, at least, seemed to be little more than a motorway (which, of course, we walked down the side of- keeping the vagrant tradition alive) with a couple of museums of contemporary art and the like dotted alongside it, which, both Sam and I unanimously agreed we could not be fucked visiting. We did see the odd, quite impressive mural, painted on the sides of various buildings, though, which were fairly lovely, if still not quite worth the incredibly long walk to see

I mean, if you’re into space-birds or whatever...

Aside from these murals, however, Barranco didn't strike us as particularly different from any of the other areas which we had visited, thus far and so, not wishing to pour any more of our day into that particular time-sink, we headed back to Miraflores and to our next stop, Kennedy Park.

From what we had read about the fairly modestly sized park in the pre-amble to this trip, it was the home of nearly the entirety of Miraflores' stray cat population. This was obviously a tremendously exciting prospect for me as, as fans of this blog will know, nothing makes me feel closer to what I imagine happiness feels like, than befriending a stray cat, and them all being in the same park at the same time was essentially like having a captive audience.

I can't really fault the park, to be honest; it was, as described, full to bursting with strays, all asleep on the grass and raking through bins, like the worlds least well organised cat cafe. Quickly though, it became quite apparent that a lot of them were really not very friendly

10/10 would not touch

and the ones that were, were generally, to describe them in the nicest possible way, unforgivably manky and all fucked up to buggery

Eugh, no.

and all of them, without exception absolutely reeked of piss. I plucked up enough courage, at one point, to give one a stroke along the back of its neck and, genuinely, my hand still faintly smells of its urine, nearly a week later. At least I hope that's what it is...

After sitting for a while, eating a nice bit of cake with my non-dominant, non-pissy hand, we bade farewell to the cats of Kennedy park, receiving a sea of several hundred, furry middle fingers in response, and moved on to our penultimate stop of the day; some pre-incan ruins which were, unusually nestled right in the heart of the city, whose name I can't remember and honestly, wouldn't be able to spell, even if I did.

We walked for so, so very long to get there (to be clear though, geographically they were really very close to Kennedy Park, but every junction and crossing in Lima takes about five solid minutes to cross, thanks to the incredibly heavy and wildly unregulated traffic that, to be totally honest lost its novelty after the second road we had to cross. If I never hear another car horn, ever again  in my life, it will be too soon) and eventually, found ourselves  standing outside the ruins, peering in through the fence, as is the vagrant way.

...Close enough!

We traced our way back to the actual entrance and were greeted by a stern, chubby looking man who told us that you needed to have a guide to enter the ruins and that the last English speaking tour of the day was set to depart in the next few minutes. We quickly debated whether or not to go for it, but to be honest, we were still very tired from the previous day's travels and, given that we had clocked up, at that point, 25,000 steps on my pedometer, both unanimously decided that we couldn't be fucked, though this time at least, we did vow to return later in the trip, because it did actually look pretty neat.

We hobbled back to our apartment, where we rested only briefly, before heading out into the city once more to a restaurant which Sam had picked out for us. A plan, with which I saw no obvious flaws with at its inception.

Now basically dragging our broken little legs behind us, using our hands as sort of rudimentary claws for another twenty minutes, we arrived exhausted and sore at the restaurant. It was only then, that I remembered that Sam is a salty, Geordie fish lady and had therefore chosen a place that almost exclusively served seafood, which, to be totally honest, I was not really in the mood for. Being the hero and very good and supportive boyfriend that I am though and having neither the energy to walk somewhere else nor complain, I silently relented and begrudgingly took my seat.

The place was really very heavily sea-themed, as you might expect of a seafood restaurant, but was only about 8% as classy in reality as it thought it was. I'm not sure how they expected waiters wearing Hawaiian shirts, or seats made from a sawn-in-half rowboat to scream elegance, but it was pitifully apparent that they did. We were served a free taster of ceviche (the national dish of Peru; raw(ish) fish, cooked by some chemical reaction it has to lime juice or something) which was basically fine and an equally free, very alcoholic sour little cocktail thing, which I obviously didn't drink, meaning that Sam had to have mine as well as hers in order to save me (but mostly her) from embarrassment.

I perused (pun intended) the menu and decided that, given that I was in South America, should be a little more daring than I usually would. I didn't really fancy a full plate of Ceviche, however, and so instead, opted for fried calamari with spaghetti and squid-ink sauce after making one hundred per cent certain with the waiter that I would be served rings of calamari and not, as I have seen so often, entire baby squid, which I refuse to eat, because I am a gastric coward.

Obviously, fucking obviously the plate that was plopped down in front of me was positively riddled with fully formed, tiny little baby squid, staring up at me with their sad, black eyes. Perfect. I ate around them, picking out the ones I could see and heaping them onto Sam's plate -  who was not so concerned about fully ingesting entire offspring – though even that was made more difficult than it should have been due to spaghetti, blackened by the squid ink, looking remarkably similar to baby squid tentacles. In the end, I probably had about five mouthfuls of spaghetti and a big sulk. After eating only a crepe and a cup of cereal throughout the day, this was not even close to enough to keep me going, (which is weird because normally a good sulk can sustain me for days). Thus, out of equal parts hunger and spite, I ordered myself a pudding. I'm not sure what it was called, but it was a creamy, cinnamony, biscuity, dulce de leche-y tart thing and it was so good that it single-handedly saved the entire holiday, which, after that meal, I was pretty prepared to just throw in the bin, to be totally honest.

After our meal, the fatigue set in once more (or more accurately just...worsened) and so we paid our far-more-expensive-than-I'd-have-liked-to-have-paid-for-food-I-didn't-really-enjoy bill, hobbled the requisite twenty minutes back home and passed out almost immediately. To be honest, I may even have passed out on the way for all I know. I genuinely remember that little of it.

[fey-and-sudden-and-unholy]

Surveything

* Do you have problems with money? No, not really.  I’ve been managing my finances for almost two decades, at this point.  I paid for my first car, I’m about a week and a half away from taking a vacation overseas.  I’ve lived on my own off and on since I was 20, and when it comes right down to it, I’m capable of doing so, right now, though I presently have roommates.  That’s not to say I never worry about it.  I don’t know if it’s possible to never worry about money, in this day and age.  But I’m in a good place, right now. * How much have you spent this year so far on pants? $0.  I bought a pair, last summer, but mostly I wear skirts and dresses, so what few pants I have last for ages.  * How many pairs of shoes do you have that you have worn fewer than 5 times?  I think four or five.  I mostly wear my boots in autumn/winter/spring and a pair of mary janes when it’s warm, and a pair of shoes for work. I could totally just live in those, but I’ve been given a few pairs on Christmases and such that I hardly ever wear. * Are you addicted to anything besides nicotine or caffeine? Not in any conventional sense.  I guess you could say I’m addicted to quiet.  I’m addicted to time alone.  If I don’t get a reasonable amount of that, I start to feel jangly and strung out.  An over-stimulated Litha is a stabby Litha.   * Do you call anyone “sexy”? Not like... in person and to their face.  It’s not like I’ve ever met Salma Hayek... * What is your favorite type of science (chemistry, biology, etc.)? I think botany is pretty cool... Physics, too.  I don’t know a huge amount about either thing, but I admire people who do very much.

* Have you ever seen anyone have a heart attack? No. * What is the last favor someone asked you to do? Does it qualify as a favor, if you’re at work... * Do you need to go to the bathroom right now? Nope. * Do you have the money to buy someone a ring, if you wanted to propose? Yes. * Do you have an ex that you just can’t forget? As in, I want them back?  No.  As in, I wish I could forget?  A couple. * Do you smile a lot? I suppose I smile a reasonable amount. * Do you like to go whale watching? I’ve never gotten to, so I don’t know.  It sounds like it could be pretty cool, though. * When did you last go bird watching? I’ve never gone in a serious sense.  I used to live close to a nature preserve that was particularly known as a bird sanctuary.  Like there’s a national bird festival there and everything.  So whenever I’d go out there, I’d pay attention to the birds in a casual way.  My sister and I used to make a game of spotting the indigo buntings, whenever I’d take her out there to practice her driving. * Have you ever carved in a tree? No, I honestly find it distasteful.  I mean, how would you like to just be standing there and someone walks up and starts cutting their name or whatever into your skin?  

* When and who did you last lie (to)? Don’t recall. * Have you ever slept in the same bed as a dog or cat? Sure. * Have you ever played Sim City? No.  My sister’s pretty into the Sims, but I never got hugely into it. * What is your opinion of the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail? I love it.  I love Monty Python in general. * Do you like corn? Well enough that I’ll happily eat it, if it’s around, but I don’t go out and buy it often. * When did you last go fishing? Where? I haven’t fished since I was like pre-adolescent.  I never really liked it.  If I’m going to be around water, I’d rather be swimming in it, or walking by it, or wading or just paddling around in a boat, enjoying being there. * Why did you go to the place furthest from your house that you’ve ever been? I think Germany counts as the furthest from home I’ve ever been.  I was on a trip with the foreign language classes, back in high school.  We went to six countries, in two weeks, and none of them spoke the language I studied.  X-D  It was a pretty cool trip, though. * Have you ever worked on a farm? My grandfather owned a small farm, up until he couldn’t work it, any more.  I never really worked on it, but my grandmother and I went hunting for blackberries a few times, while he was doing other things. * What is your favorite fruit? Pears. * Do you believe you’ll find someone better than who you’re with now? I’m not with anyone, right now. * What is your favorite brand of frozen pizza? Freschetta, Brick Oven is the kind I normally get.  They make a good spinach and mushroom pizza.  I add chicken to it. * Your mom calls you at 2 AM. Do you answer? Probably not. * How long was your shortest relationship? A month or so, I believe. * Do you like to ride on buses? In a city, sure.  If we’re doing distance, I like planes, trains or just driving better, though. * Have you ever blocked someone on a website accidentally? Yes, and I felt awful about it. * When is the last time you went to a different county? Last year, right down to the same month. * Have you ever had a nanny? No. * Do you hate anyone you work with? There’s one I get frustrated with, but I think hate’s too strong a word. * What color is your favorite jacket? Black.

* Do you like coffee? Yes, but I like tea better. * Have you personalized your answering machine/voicemail? No, not really. * What do you feel like eating RIGHT NOW? I could kinda go for an omelette.  Or maybe some sushi. * When was the last time that you were genuinely happy? I have frequent moments of genuine happiness, really.  I think the happiest I’ve been recently was when I got off work, Wednesday morning.  It was the beginning of the first couple days off I’d had in a couple weeks. * Think back five months ago, were you single? Yeah.  Honeslty, I’m pretty happy being single.  That’s not to say I wouldn’t like to have that kind of intimate connection with someone, but I haven’t yet found anyone, where being with them feels better than being single, at the end of the day.  Any relationship I’ve ever been in, I’ve ended up just feeling relieved, when it was over. * Who is the last person you saw really drunk? A couple of guests at work, last week. * Was the last person you hugged a boy or girl? A guy. * If left alone for a few days, could you fend for yourself? And longer than that.  Unless you’re talking like... wilderness survival.  I mean, I could probably keep myself alive, but I doubt I’d come out in as good a shape as I went in. * Have you ever worn bright red lipstick? Sure.  I look better in a burgundy, though, if we’re doing reds. * Do you plan on moving out within the next year? Nope, I’m here for a while, at least. * Has anyone put their arms around you in the last 5 days? I... I think so?  Pretty sure there was a casual hug in there somewhere. * Has anyone ever called you perfect before? Yeah.  I didn’t much like it, though. * In the summer do you see yourself in a relationship? I’m not holding my breath. * Do you hate anyone? Sure. * Who was the last person to compliment you & what did they say? My roommate said my outfit looked cute.

* The person who hurt you most recently says sorry, what would you say? I’d accept the apology. * What’s your favorite color out of these five: green, yellow, pink, blue, purple? Purple, hands down.

* How many times have you dyed your hair? I never have. * Which movie did you last see in the cinema? A Wrinkle in Time * Do you own more than one working cell phone? Nope.  I’m thinking of getting a new one sometime soonish, though. * Was your last text message from a male or female? Female * Ever hurt yourself playing Wii? No, I’ve barely played Wii, period. * What was the last drink you had? Coffee and sweet cream * Would you ever go to Hawaii? It’s on my bucket list. * Anything you would change about your life right now? I’d like to live in a more liberal state, or country for that matter.  I’d like to get to a point where I’m writing every single day.  And I mean who doesn’t kinda wish they had enough money that they didn’t have to put up with a job? * Has anyone said ‘I love you’ in the past week? My sister. * Is there one person in your life that can always make you smile? Always is iffy, but there are people who are better at it than most. * Where is your boyfriend/girlfriend right now? Excellent question. :-P * Have you ever shaved your head? No. I don’t know if I ever would.