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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

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Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 5)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 4.1

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Cirilla and Geralt has gotten into a big fight. Thus, leading to you learning more about witchers and having a soft spot for his child of surprise.

Warnings: Angsty? Kinda? Cirilla's having an emotional breakdown. Geralt being one stern dad and kinda mean? Jaskier being talkative in the wrong times. You being confused at everything. Boner references? HAHAHAHAH.

Words: 5,600+

A/N: You're going to kind of hate Geralt on the next chapter. I can tell. Hehehe? Or maybe noooot? Next chapter will be interesting for me! I think? Heehee! There’s going to be plot hints as well on the next chapter! THANK YOUUUUUU!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Seeing the satisfaction of people smiling and humming to the food you cook was a great feeling for a person who loved cooking. Gratification would be an understatement for the feeling you were having as you've watched Ciri and Jaskier munch down on the viands you've poured your heart with.

As per usual, Geralt was only humming in satisfaction after all of his and Jaskier's attempt on making edible food. Sometimes it isn't, sometimes it is. But, most of the time; it was inedible to be eaten.

Ciri was moaning out her extreme satisfaction. Vigorously devouring the Fried Chicken like she had beeb famished for at least a year. Crumbs of the breading scattered all over her mouth and face as she scratched her forehead with the back of her soiled hand.

"How's the chicken, Ciri?"

Dishes clanging and food were being munched in the background. You swallowed your food first before asking the princess.

"Better than ever," she incoherently mumbled. Mouth filled with food as she slightly coughed from not chewing it well as she swallowed.

The bard seemed to have accepted the fact that Kolby was sitting on the far end of the kitchen, eyes twinkling for food to be thrown to him. Though, he was still being ignored by Jaskier as if he weren't in the room; probably just stingy and disturbed for his presence, "This soup is delightful!"

Jaskier waved the bone of his chicken in the air like a flag. Turning his head to look at Geralt who was silently eating his food with an apathetic expression of his that was normal for the man. "Geralt," the bard called out for the latter. "Hmm," the witcher tiredly hummed in response, "We need some ale! Please tell me you've bought one when we've last visited the marketplace,"

You've bit the tendons of your chicken. Kolby has caught your attention as he was staring out of hunger. Again. You've reached out for the grapes that sat in front of you and grabbed onto half the stem before snapping it. Throwing the fruit towards the Hirikka as it caught it with his adorable paws.

"Moop!" Kolby answered as a thank you. A very weird, high pitch sound that disturbed you at first when you heard his voice but slowly and surely getting the hang of hearing it when he was happy, sad, guilty or anything he feels.

"I've finished it all," Geralt mumbled after a second of swallowing his food.

"Oh, you drunkard!"

You've snapped your head at the bard, lower lip jutting out as you were deep in your thoughts. Your head turning as you studied your unfinished chicken.

"I can make one," you blurted out loud to Jaskier's interest, "I've studied culinary enough to make my own wine and beer or ale in this old time,"

His lips formed in an 'O' shape, entirely elated at the skills you've opted. A grin as wide as the Cheshire cat when he'd shook his head out of stupefaction.

"I am certainly wrong in calling you a rat," he gave you a boyish smile before looking at the ceilings; acting like he was talking to God, "You are one of the gods sent from above, Y/N!"

The witcher stopped chewing halfway to give you his attention before he carry on with his devouring and eyed the bard who was mischievously grinning at the bear of a man.

"Geralt here has his ears clapping because you know how to make ale," he gestured to Geralt with a newly taken chicken in the middle of the wooden table, "---now, we can seldomly visit the inns for our brotherly whereabouts or the brothels for your midnight pleasure with your whores---" the devious bard was cut off when Geralt breathed in deep and scolded him with a monotonous pitch. "Jaskier,"

Jaskier winked back at him, now moitioning for what was hidden below his pants; a hasty ridicule sent, "Don't want me stating the stiff of a bird howling out of its nest or your twig-n-berries because Y/N here has mentioned that she knows how to make ale!"

Jaskier was unaware of his hands that was flat on the table. With his fingers widely flattened and having spaces in between. He was utterly frightened when Geralt has brutally stabbed in between the spaces of it with a bread knife he never used; leaving Jaskier stammering like he'd been castrated.

"Ge--Geralt!"

You've gave them a double-take, blinking from Geralt's hostlity and his patience snapping out of a sudden. He was glaring at the bard but Jaskier was already swallowing his saliva and disgustingly coughing out bits of chicken and soup; leaving bits to spill on the sides of his mouth as he shockingly stared at the knife close to his fingers.

"Are they always slitting each other's throats?" you thought out loud, continuing your indulgement. The question sent to the Ashen princess.

"I'm afraid so," Cirilla shrugged as a matter of fact; ignoring Geralt's patience suddenly snapping; like it was their normal.

Cirilla has studied your clothes as you sat and ate silently. The both of you ignoring Jaskier's complaints about how Geralt was close to stabbing his fingers that give people; out of this world epics. It was the fingers that holds a lute which can change the witcher's name and the world. The bard continued raving out as Geralt resumed eating silently with Jaskier bombarding his peace.

"Y/N?" The pretty child called out of curiosity, "---You need clothes!" she continued with a point to your clothing. Her nose scrunching in distaste, "---Proper clothes and not ginormous clothes from Geralt,"

From the mention of his name, the man himself glanced at your direction and scooped the last drop of his soup; eyeing you both in wonder.

"We need to visit Babeth again! I want to buy Y/N a dress," Cirilla gave her best pleading eyes. The meaning of her words have another meaning as well. She probably also wanted to play with some teens she could meet out in the marketplace or if she could play with her best friend named 'Ethelia' whenever they had their weekly visit.

You responded rather hurriedly, shaking your head as you've finished your last piece of chicken; chewing the skin as you left it for your last bite to thoroughly satiate the taste, "Oh, you don't have to because I don't like dresses---"

The princess pouted before you, currently dismayed by your response, "But, you can't leave the house with just Geralt's under-Tunic! People will be looking at you strangely! Very out of the ordinary compared to the women wearing thick, warm dresses," she explained with that puppy eyes she'd been an expert in.

Cirilla was drinking her soup from the rim of the bowl in haste before dropping it with a thud. She leaned her elbows on the table, her eyes twinkling with hope as she gave Geralt the look that gets him to always say yes; all the darn time.

He didn't hate it with Cirilla. The Witcher hated it whenever it was you because he didn't think he would ever get to not say no to another person like a child with puppy eyes. What was even worse was that you weren't even a child and you were having your way that he'd even agreed on having a Hirikka in his home just like a pet.

Perhaps, he was actually short of a marble.

"Can we go to the marketplace and visit Babeth please, Geralt? You've earned enough coins to build this small house! I wanna buy Y/N clothes to wear and make her feel comfortable," she exclaimed eagerly like a child wanting for a field trip.

Geralt gave her a languid blink before studying you who sat beside Cirilla. You've given him a smile when your eyes connected; feeling all tingly on the inside. That overwhelming warmth that makes your face feel mellow with tingly insides.

The Witcher only hummed with an impassive appearance. Last time, they've gotten the chance to visit the marketplace; Jaskier was drunk and had to bed a seller in exchange for a tunic he wanted or maybe he'd just wanted her after letting a man who he had his eyes on and is as youthful as him; run away with a knight who had been drinking back in the tavern. He was probably frustrated and glum after what has happened.

Albreda was beautiful and as sexy as a fox. So, it was also a win-win situation for the bard despite of how he lost to a knight from the castle of Kaedwan. In comparison, what can his lute even do to a sword?

The young princess notice Geralt's neutral response. Never knowing if it was a yes or a big no. She puffed out a breath; slipping her fingers under her thighs as she sat on her chair when she'd hollered for the bard's attention, making him snap out of his prattles, "Jaskier, please tell Geralt that Y/N needs a set of normal clothes for her to wear!"

You smiled; completely unnerving as you wanted to repeal from the offer at hand. Jaskier gave out a hum and a quick nod was simultaneously sent when he did as he dropped the empty bone on his plate with a loud cling. "Alright, alright. I'll give a quarter of coins for Y/N,"

"See! Jaskier approves!"

The quiet witcher bluntly spoke with a rasp after he drank his water; glowering as he drank from his cup, "He doesn't even have the coins to buy his own tunic,"

Jaskier looked at him; faking the offence. Geralt gave him a shrug of his shoulders and a cocky slant of his head from the reaction.

The bard ignored the reiteration; which was a first time for everything and leaned forward on his chair, folding his arms as it rested on the table. Remembering an offer brought to him by one of the villagers back in Durriken's Tavern, "---I've heard the villagers asking for a witcher's help again,"

Jaskier clicked his tongue as he pondered, the crease of his forehead growing deeper in thought, "---Preferrably the butcher of Blaviken," pause. "The first hunt that they wanted was a Bloedzuiger, this was offered by Babeth herself because her husband has seen one in the swamps," he gestured with his index finger pointing on the ceiling like an 'you know' gesture.

Thus, the bard gestured with an 'a-okay' sign with his fingers like he was pertaining to coins as he explained further, "---Second is an Echinops with a lot more coins involved, considering the stories; it is said that its difficult to slay because it can only be seen in places where crimes have been committed or the graves of the dead. But, this was offered near Vizima. Thoroughly far. We have yet to travel,"

You had no idea what they were saying. Your narrowed eyes says so as you stared at them both. A what? you thought inside your head. A bulldozer? Itchynuts? What is it that Geralt does in his everyday life? Does he really slaughter beasts as a job like it was normal in their world?

You were completely an embodiment of curiosity and bafflement. There was a lot of knowledge that has entered your brain since that night but it seems like it wasn't enough. You needed more idea as to what was running in their world. Sad to say, the monsters were even running freely for Geralt who seemed to be needed for a kill.

Cirilla had a frown twisting her face. She'd exhaled; loud enough for the three of you to look at her as she called out for the man who sat across from her. "Geralt," and the witcher only gave a hum as a response. He knew what she was going to say and Jaskier's timing was the worst thing in the world that could happen.

"You're going? Again? I thought you were going to leave the beasts alone when you've realized that people are more evil instead?"

The latter couldn't help but give Jaskier the nastiest scowl he could offer. If anything, he wanted to throw Jaskier in a lake full of bathing Hirikkas to scare the shit out of him.

Geralt sat back on his chair as it creaked, his golden eyes complimenting his chalky white hair that fell on his shoulders in a dazzling way ever. He shook his head to her disdain, "I can't let people be killed by these beasts," his jaw clenched as a frown was etching to grow on his face, "They need my help,"

The blue eyed child was sending daggers to the witcher and you watched them both share scowls at each other from the sudden plan that uncoiled from the moment Jaskier opened his damn mouth.

"I thought you didn't want anyone needing you?" Cirilla simmered as a matter of fact as she crossed her arms.

Geralt could hear the parsimonous tone she'd kept up, making him seeth and his teeth grit as he sent another one of his tight scowls, "Then, why are you here?"

Cirilla loudly huffed to herself, snapping her gaze away from the latter. He sighed a big one, shaking his head again from the argument that is happening. "You're just worried, Princess." he nonchalantly uttered as he blinked and looked away, sounding so tired from everything.

"Of course, I am!" Cirilla suddenly fumed, voice turning a pitch higher than she intended to.

Jaskier raised his hand up after a minute of pure silence. Except for the loud sighs that both parties have been emitting. The bard cleared his throat for emphasis and both snapped their heads to look at him.

"Besides, he'd never stopped, Princess Cirilla," The man who has started the fight, declared like it would help the situation. But, no. It definitely just worsened and it made Geralt send him laser through his eyes.

A continuous set of rapid blinking happened to you at the words spoken by Jaskier himself. An inquisitive look needing quick answers given to the child sat beside you. "Y-You're a princess? Like a real princess? It's not just an endearment or something?"

"Cirilla is the princess of Cintra," the bard commented, answering your question in haste. You swallowed a lump in your throat, fingers scratching your temple when you wondered how it was possible. It is, in their kingdom and according to their time line, their era would be filled with royal empires or a hierarchy of the royal kingdom, "You mean, a kingdom? A huge kingdom? Like the daughter of a president?"

Nobody answered you at that. With Cirilla still glaring at Geralt and Jaskier looking at you weirdly by what you were blabbering about; trying so deeply to understand you.

Thus, it was as if all clouds started form; a sight of the princess breaking as it could be seen through the windows of her soul. You've took a glimpse of her and that tiny quiver of her lips and cheeks signified a little girl who was terrified of a future that was meant for her, "Why must you lie to me, Geralt?" she whispered, voice breaking as she swallowed and fought back the tears.

Your heart fell for the girl who seemed to be in an emotional battle with herself. It was like you see yourself in her. The fear that consumes her as if she had been all alone, scared and with nobody to ask for help.

She was a broken child. Emotionally.

At the sight of her tear-threatening face. Geralt gritted his teeth, whisper cusses to himself as he saw how he'd upsetted her again and so, his voice tried to soften; be a little more considerate from where she was coming from, "I had to, Princess. You wouldn't have let me go day by day if you knew where I was going," he paused, crossing his sturdy arms as he reasoned, "---besides, where was I getting food every day for us when I don't get to slaughter beasts?"

Cirilla's expression died down a little bit, her heart thumping out of her chest as she tried to dig in to her memories. There was riches under her bed back in Cintra, she remembered. "Grandmother has left gold under my bed, located in a big, brown, treasure box---"

Geralt immediately cut her off, gruffly but calmly spilling the beans for the tenth time for his whole life, "Nilfgaard has already looted the whole castle," his voice sounded stern as he uttered with no remorse; constantly reminding the princess of the truth and letting her understand, "---When I told you there was no going back, I wasn't lying."

You've tried to hold her hand that was tightly fisted across the table, yet you were too slow as she instantaneously stood on her chair with a tight-fitting frown on her face, "We leave tomorrow morning," Geralt declared as he watched her storm out the kitchen slash dining. The door being shut closed; loud enough for the trees to shake as the witcher seemed unfazed by her tantrums and sadness, "I'll give the princess what she wants, in repayment for my mistakes,"

After the accidental argument that Jaskier has made, it was already night time when both parties didn't seem to want nor have the plan to talk to each other like what they always do.

Geralt was out and nowhere to be found, with his horse as you've checked. A sudden want to ask him what happened and what it was about for you to be less of an idiot around the house and Jaskier finally regretting his mouth that ran with no thinking. The princess stayed in her chambers for seven hours already. There was no clock, but you've guessed by the evening twilight. Still, no response from the princess after an hour of convincing her it was time to eat dinner with a dessert of steamed chocolate cake you've managed to make through scrapes that you've specially created for her.

Both you and Jaskier were in front of her door, knocking repeatedly as the bard tried to woo her out of her bed. "Princess Cirilla?" he professed with a tone close enough to be considered as singing.

Seconds later, you've heard a faint yell from beneath the covers, "Leave me alone, Bard!"

The both of you sighed from her stubborness. They were both pretty obstinate; Geralt and Cirilla. You massaged your temples, eyeing the bard who had his ears flat against the door, trying to listen what was happening behind it. "Why is she mad?" it was a soft whisper that could only get Jaskier to hear. The bard shrugged, blinking back at you.

"Because," his sentence was vague, igniting a tight-lipped lour from you; totally unsatisfied by the information that was said.

He'd look at you with a faultless glint of his eyes, wondering what you were waiting for as he said his explainations as to why Cirilla was mad at the witcher. The bard sighed when you've continued to look at him lackadaisically and so he decided it was best to give a proper answer, "Geralt's been the...only one protecting her," he dubiously and quietly whispered, not giving away all the information yet.

Your frown grew tighter, cocking your head as you pondered, "---From what?"

"The people who want her as dead as a door nail," Jaskier stepped away from the door, his voice turning lower if that was even possible for Cirilla not to hear.

Shock was evident in your features. The details sounding like a bellicose. It was difficult to comprehend that somebody wanted to kill a kid who doesn't cause any harm. Or that was what you thought from what you've observed since the day you were with them. She seemed normal and harmless.

"I don't understand?" you trailed off and shake your head in a perplexed manner, "---Isn't she his child? It's obvious that he would protect her with all his life. Besides, where's the...mom?"

The mother. You were sure Cirilla was Geralt's child based on how protective he was with her. He acts like a father towards the princess. Was his wife the queen? you thought and tried to think of how the family tree works.

The bard narrowed his eyes at you; crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder on Cirilla's door with that smirk appearing on his face, "She isn't his child. She's his child of surprise,"

Your face warped into pure confusion, feeling the back of your head twitch because of how muddlesome it sounded, "Nani?! (What?!)"

From how weirder their facts get, the more you didn't even know that your words become incoherent. Jaskier eyed you like you've evolved into a Hirikka and gave you a shrug, asking you 'what?' with that weirdest expression he could create.

Your lips twitched into a small smile before it fell; realizing what he meant, "So, an illegitimate child? Where's the mom?"

The idea of continuously asking where her mother is; gave another meaning for the bard and even to yourself as well. You wanted to cringe so hard as your mouth couldn't stop itself from the utterance of your interest and the cat would be killed if Jaskier would've told you that there was actually a mom and they were a happy family.

You didn't know why your heart was feeling that way. Very intrigued by the witcher's life and not just from his marriage status but by how he or they lived in an era like this.

An era full of singularities compared to your dimension. The question is, how will you live if you couldn't get home as soon as possible? With dragons, beasts, vampires, mages or sorceress freely walking around their dimension would be your end.

Jaskier groaned to himself, his eyes rolling from your naivety and being blind over the fact that the child already has no progenitrix. "THERE'S NO MOTHER!" he whisper-yelled with another groan as he held his forehead because of how he was trying his hardest not to spit any more details that could get you in danger, "---I'm starting to think that you just want to know if Geralt has a missus or not!"

You opened your mouth and eventually dropped it like a gold fish. The grin on Jaskier's face tells he was happy to have seen you taken a bit of karma from the commotion you've brought since the tamed Hirikka came. As you've seen the perversity in his eyes, you were sure you wanted to defend yourself from being misunderstood. That is, if you really didn't meant that.

"I'm--I'm not!" a simple stumble over your own words was enough for Jaskier's grin to grow bigger. The bard loudly chuckled to his felicity at your little crush for the witcher. His guesses were correct then. Well, it always does. Damsels, maidens, princesses and even sorceresses had an eye for his beast-slaughtering friend. Even he so, could prove that Geralt was a handsome, dashing witcher despite of his quiet and grumpy attitude at times.

It definitely adds that 'oohmph' effect for Geralt Of Rivia.

"To answer your undying curiosity, He doesn't have a consort or a lover, understand?!" Jaskier tried to heartened. You crossed your arms like a snob and a fierce glare. The latter's laugh died down as he held onto his stomach, "Besides, It's...kind of knackering to explain,"

The latter gave you a shrug, mouth jutting in a pout with a raised brow, "If you wanna be mother hen to the child, then go ahead. She already had her tantrums last month and it didn't end well for me," he cocked his head to the side and stared out of nowhere then suddenly shaking his head to erase the thoughts when he added, "---I had a bruise on the forehead because she threw a block of wood at Geralt and it bounced on me,"

Jaskier moved away from the door, patting his clothes in attempt to dust away the dirt that didn't seem to be seen. He was actually brushing off the negativity that was happening, "Just...don't make her scream or annoy her any less,"

His warning made you question in interest, "What? Why?"

"You'll die," Jaskier was quick to answer like it was nothing. He grabbed onto his lute that rested upon a wall and inserted the hoop around his shoulders. You watched him strum, "You're joking,"

"A bard makes epics! Not jokes!" he gave you a once over with that smile of his, before ambling away from you and towards the door out of the house. Kolby was crouched on the side as he eyed the bard with curiosity. "Well, seldom, I do...or maybe all the time?" was the only words he mutter before leaving the house and probably plan on giving you both the time alone; believing that you could simmer Cirilla's anger rather than him.

You've exhaled an exasperated breath, staring at the Hirikka who was guiltlessly eyeing you with no animosity.

With one swift turn of your heel, you were face to face towards the door to her room, "Cirilla?" you softly knocked; knowing that she'd heard Jaskier leave. So, it was better because she seemed to not like him knocking on her door, "---Kolby wants to play, would you like to play with us?"

A loud, squeaky sound echoed around the house made by the Hirikka himself as he heard his name from your lips. Thus, you've heard the lock to her door being pulled, alarming you that it was already unlocked and so, you've gently pushed the door open; a quarter of your foot already in her room, "Can I..come in?" you hesitatingly asked. No answer was given so maybe that was a yes.

You stood in the middle of her room. It was plain and definitely dull. All dirt-brown with white sheets like it wasn't a teenager who was resting in her chambers. The room needed a woman's touch and creativity. If you'll last longer in their dimension, then there was no problem because you could help her make her room more cozy and sweet.

She was covered in sheets, obviously not wanting visitors as she was curled away from the door. A typical reaction of a child who was upset about things.

You slowly sat on her bed, making Cirilla turn till she was facing the bulbless ceiling with the sheets covering her face. Only a candle on her bed side table was the only thing giving you light as the day was already night, "What's the matter?"

A harsh breath was heard under the covers; puffing out frustratingly, "Geralt lied to me," she glumly whispered like a secret was being told. You shifted on the bed and laid your back on the bed post, "About?"

Cirilla took a peek under her covers and there you saw those pretty blue eyes gazing back at you with sadness, "---Slaying beasts. Again. I thought he stopped,"

You've crossed your legs like a pretzel; giving her a soft smile and faze of your eyes that could comfort her, "But, isn't that what he always do?" pause.

People have been saying that like it was his job. It was like he was born for that kind of thing; killing beasts and what if's. Thus, you respect it especially that you didn't live in their world and you don't have the right to judge people for what they do to survive with life.

"He is a witcher," you added softly, trying to sound reasonable and for her anger to pass.

Arguments lead to disappointments. Hence, it always only leaves people upset and for their hearts to turn gloomy. You were never a fan of it, as fights just makes you want to cry. As per usual. Growing up sensitive was a pain in the ass because sometimes; with just one loud retort or yell could get you sobbing like a child because you were hurt.

No wonder Cirilla was wailing beneath the covers. There were hints of redness amongst the sea of her eyes and you wouldn't notice it when you didn't have stared.

The princess of Cintra hurriedly sat on her bed, making you slightly bounce at the action. You watch her forehead crease a lot more than it ever does, her eyes now fixated on the candle on her bed side table, watching how the flames sway their bodies like they were dancing under the moonlight, "Witchers encounter all types of beasts. Poisonous, lethal or the uttermost dangerous creatures you can ever meet,"

"You're worried he'd die in a battle," you stated the obvious and nodded in understanding.

Cirilla snapped out from staring at the candle for far too long, giving you a once over as she weakly spoke, "You've never seen him in a real fight," she stated as a matter of fact. You clicked your tongue as you thoroughly tried to remember, "He'd kill an Alghoul?"

At long last, the princess gave a smile as she acknowledged your non-existent ideas about what a real witcher is, "That's just a novice type of beast, Y/N." pause. "---Geralt has encountered more than that. Dragons, werewolves, sirens, archgriffins and more. You name it, he can slaughter them all," Cirilla stated with that certain confidence she had for the only person protecting her through it all.

After a second of cogitating; she'd voiced out, "---Even people, Y/N. If he protects you, he protects you with all his life. He eliminates every beast that cause detriment to villages, if he is given a favor. That's what witchers are painfully trained for; to terminate beasts that inhabits our world,"

Only a shut of your mouth was given to the princess. Your smile falling as you continued to listen like a behaved school girl, and so she raved on to your further knowledge, "---He doesn't care what happens to him. Geralt is not any normal human you may know. He may appear like it, but no. He is disliked by a lot of people. Though, Some are not due to Jaskier's notable epics about him. Thanks to the annoying bard," she snorted after giving gratitude to Jaskier and his poems.

Her smile grew as she tried to lighten up the mood of the topic; even noticing how you were frowning beside her bed. She proceeded to give utter details about the man you've never have thought would experience that kind of future for him, "---He lives longer than any other human, has supernatural abilities and is trained to kill these beasts. He's a mutated human,"

Your mind was shook, heart feeling blue because of the backstory of what he is. There was actually an explanation as to why he was quiet most of the time; only uttering words when he wants to then his mood changes like a woman who has a period for two years straight. He rarely smiles, but when he does; it was as if the world was having multiple rainbows all at once whenever it happens.

He had a nightmare of a childhood probably.

You swallowed the tight knot forming your throat, still grasping at the new information like it wasn't real; that everything wasn't. Especially the way how your heart was left in somber when you should think about how you would go home and not about his past.

Your mind was in a mess. Only you could shut your mouth after hearing those news. You wanted to ask if those supernatural abilities consist of what Superman has and try to lighten up the mood; but you couldn't utter out a word and felt depressing because you've suddenly pop out of nowhere and added to Geralt's problems.

Cirilla secretly inspected your reactions and you were frowning. A new sight for her to see as she was used to seeing you smile all the time: that happy-go-lucky aura you had drawn her into liking you as a member of the house just like Jaskier; or a family which Jaskier earned the spot.

She noted your silence as a go signal for her to rant more, "---He's the only person who takes care of me. After all of my family who has died from the war,"

The war? a question popped inside your head and you've lately realized that it was said out loud for the princess to hear.

She dubiously nodded to your question, biting the insides of her cheeks as she opened herself like a book to you, "Cintra...it has been our kingdom," her voice faltered, growing softer and weaker; the topic appearing to be sensitive for the princess, yet she still continued with her big girl panties, "---Nilfgaard is a kingdom you don't want to encounter; especially the elves. They're still hunting us down,"

They were still being hunted. You wanted to say out loud but decided to keep your mouth shut for the sake of her because she sounded like she wanted to cry again.

Thus, her voice began to grow smaller. Cautious that she might be heard by anyone. She pulled her legs to her chest and slipped her arms under her thighs. Chin falling on her sheet-covered knees. A visible pout obvious to be seen and she appeared vulnerable, "---I'm scared because if Geralt dies, then there's no hope for me. Then, I'll be left...all alone, again." Cirilla's voice cracked, swallowing the cries and never letting it out as it has already been poured for the last seven hours.

Hence, her next words coming off as a whisper instead; like a child telling secrets to her teddy bear, "---with no one, Y/N. Because I have no other family except for Geralt and Jaskier. I don't want to be alone,"

The way she's said it broke your heart. She was just an abandoned child who was slapped with a harsh future for her. You couldn't help but feel more saddened especially when she'd pulled herself more to shape herself into a tighter ball.

You studied her form, a sincere smile traveling up your face as you don't try to let your emotions get to you better than she does. With open arms; you've offered, "Come here," Cirilla gave you a once over; hesitant of your actions, "You think you can give me a hug?"

Thus, the princess of Cintra knew that was all she needed. A genuine hug from a woman's touch that could get her temporarily forgetting the fears and trauma that has been ruining her mentality and continuously.

"A beautiful destiny is always masked with an unbearable truth and thus waiting for a price to pay,"

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! PLEASE DOOOOO! IT’LL MEAN SO MUCH TO ME!

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx

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toonytoodles · 4 years ago

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Random fun fact time! Ft. OCs! (Repost because I added more/ edited a lot of stuff)

Avery -

- Sneezes like a kitten, and most of the time she accidentally uses her fire breathe when she sneezes, so watch out

- Sleeps on a rock

- Is made uncomfortable by actual dragons, it's just... too weird for her...

- Has a strange and inexplicable extreme fear of eels

- Reacts to fear by singing/humming/speaking very loudly, and also by running and screaming (basically, how markilpler acts when playing horror games? yeah that)

- At least once a week her dad has to help her brush through her hair, he says they should get it cut but she absolutely refuses

- Owns a few pairs of gloves- most of which look nearly identical. Some are for different days, some pairs are for bedtime, and some are for special occasions, but she also has some different types and styles of gloves for different events

- Loves the holidays, dislikes the weather that comes with it

- Absolutely hates people touching/messing with her tail, even if it's by accident she gets kinda mad. That's hers- don't touch it. (Emma's the only exception to this simply because it can't be avoided- although Emma does try to touch it as little as possible)

- Slightly allergic to pollen

- She has a clicking-like purr

- If you scratch under her chin she'll purr and relax, but if scratch a certain spot on her neck she'll sleepily fall over

- Adopted as an egg and raised by her human father and fairy mother

- Has a Scottish accent

- Works as a Glazier (glass blower) and makes potion bottles, also helps with making the potions, and occasionally costumer service and boring stuff like stocking/inventory

Emma -

- Plays with hoodie strings and/or hair when upset or nervous (it happens often, her hoodie strings are sorta worn out)

- She's a big fan of animals! Especially bears, puppies, and unicorns, she thinks they're adorable! When she was younger she used to like dragons quite a bit too

- She's a protective friend and big sister, and she's a little over protective over people she cares about

- Tends to read into things; if your tone or demeanor is slightly different she begins worrying that something's wrong or that she did something. She also tends to believe that no one actually wants to be her friend or wants to be nice to her, but that they're only being nice because they're afraid of her or pity her.

- LOVES HUGS!!! Absolutely loves them, hugging other giants, hugging people smaller than her, getting hugs, giving hugs, she loves hugs

- Once accidentally ate a fake candy cane decoration, off someone's front lawn, because she thought it was real gigantic candy, left out for giants (she was like four, so it made sense to her then, but she still gets made fun for it a bit by her family)

- Loves snow and winter

- Her favorite color is probably blue

- Is surprisingly good at sneaking up on people, for someone 30ft tall she's quiter than most borrowers

- Is the second oldest of five kids, her older brother Rory is 23, her younger brother Richard is 15, and her youngest sisters Aroura and Tiana are 6 and 8, and they're all pretty close

- Her dad is a size shifter, and so are Richard and Tiana, the rest of the family are giants

- She's ambidextrous

- Very cautious of her surroundings

- Hates surprises/being scared

- Bi-romantic and ace

Sofia -

- Can write without looking at what she's doing

- Only wears slip on shoes or shoes with Velcro/zippers, she never learned how to tie them, she couldn't figure out what to do with her head or look at what she was doing

- She's an artist! She likes to paint!

- Has a hard time saying "no," so when she says it, she means it

- Hates surprises and people sneaking up on her

- Has a pet python named Albert

- Probably the only person on the planet who has worse anxiety than Emma

- Don't call her "Soph" or "Sophie," and she gets mildly annoyed when her name is misspelled

- Typically uses right arm to carry head and left hand for everything else

- Has a weird sense of humor

- Has a million stuffed animals, has like 20 on her bed, but Rupert the blue bunny is her favorite

- She has an enchanted scarf that allows her to wear her head when needed, she doesn't usually use it because she's not used to it & it gives her anxiety (she's scared of the scarf falling off/being taken off unexpectedly) but she has it and uses it on occasion, mostly at home

- She doesn't let anyone else hold her head, it seriously freaks her out, her dad is the only exception, but Avery held her once for a group photo (her body took the picture)

-She loves singing and has a soft beautiful voice but is too shy to sing around anyone 🎶

- She was bullied when she was younger and doesn't like to talk about it, she already gets emotional easily and those memories hurt

- She loves Avery's jokes and has a bit of a weird sense of humor

- She's adopted, she lives with her human father (another fun fact, her dad is one of Avery's parents best friends!)

- Unlike Avery, she wasn't adopted as a baby, she was about 6-7ish when she was adopted

- Loves vegetables

- Gets embarrassed easily

- Doesn't go out of her comfort zone, she only does stuff when Avery basically forces her to

- She really likes Emma, but is also sorta scared of her sometimes, she's just scared of people and being looked at, so she can be a little overwhelming without meaning to be, it's nothing personal and she knows Emma wouldn't hurt a fly, she's just scared of people and sometimes Emma is a lot of person

- Doesn't want Emma to hold her (Emma respects it, although sometimes they work it out to where Emma can give her a gentle hug)

-Her favorite season is fall

-She loves rabbits and frogs, but won't admit she loves horses (there's a stereotype that all dullahans love horses, she won't give in)

-Hates confrontation

-Loves vanilla cake

-Hates strangers and people she's not comfortable around being anywhere near her

- Pansexual

- Sorta has a voice claim, but it's weird and sorta difficult to explain?

Andie -

- Has a French accent (picked it up from dad)

- One of my only OCs to have a voice claim

- Plays the flute

- Mean, selfish, and self centered, but somehow also a good person

- Sings sentences sometimes

- Scared of turtles

- Works as a bard/waitress at the family tavern

- Unfortunately she is heterosexual

Andy -

- Somehow didn't pick up their fathers accent

- One of my only OCs to have a voice claim

- Plates the lute

- Genuine and kind hearted, but also a bumbling moron

- Dreams of being a song writer, wants to be a professional musician

- Works as a bard/waiter at the family tavern

- Bi, but prefers women

Clementine -

- A book worm

- Likes to sing

- Practices magic, knows a few interesting spells

- Sometimes her and Avery fight over magic usage vs. potion usage (they know it's a dumb fight, but they don't care, at this point it's a joke)

- She's a white tailed deer

- She has great hearing, and is usually very aware of her surroundings

- She wants to be a magic professor as an adult

- Demisexual, pan, but prefers men

Pond-

- Elementals don't really have gender, she chooses to present as female and use female pronouns

- Can't "see," but rather senses vibrations, since she's made out of water she doesn't have eyes, but based on other senses she can get around just fine

- She can't smell either

- Doesn't care for romance

- Has 4 pet fish she keeps with her, named Karl, Frank, Phillip, and Fish

- She has a baby sister, Brook

- She's odd and can be off putting unless you know her pretty well, then her weirdness is sort of endearing

- She can tell her friends apart by the way they walk and their gestures, and of course their voices, but really has no idea what any of them look like, she knows their species and the normal traits of those species, but not much outside that

- She doesn't eat or drink

- Smart, but sorta reckless

- Sorta hard to hug :( but the others still try

Sapphire -

- Has minimal size shifting abilities, but prefers to be her true size, she loves sitting on her husband's shoulders or in his pockets (She's about 5ft in her bigger form)

- Used to be an adventurer, at one point she was a pirate

- Met her husband on one of her adventures

- Has a Scottish accent

- She has a sword her size (no it's not a toothpick or a toy or anything, she has an actual tiny sword) 🗡

- Makes potions for the shop and deals with customers

- Grew up outside of Tradeskeep, her and Kal retired from their adventuring career and settled down there

Kalvin -

- Used to be an adventurer/ mercenary

- Huge, ripped, has all kinds of scars, but his 4" tall wife is scarier than he his, he's basically a teddy bear

- Makes potions, does restocking, inventory, and doesn't as much anymore, but makes potion bottles

- Has scars/tattoos from various adventures

- Used to have dragon scale armor, he once saved a village from a dragon, but has sold it and no longer tells the story, he now claims it was a bear

- He's a great dad ❤

- Loves ale & meat, but not as much as his girls

- I cannot overstate how much he loves his family, he LOVES his wife and daughter, like a LOT, it pretty much defines who he is, he's a family man

- Met his wife while on a quest

- He used to be a nomad while adventuring and getting paid for jobs, he'd wander from town to town, until he settled at Tradeskeep and put up a shop

Ok so i know that's a lot, but it's there for anyone who's interested in all that ❤ I have other facts too, so if you wanna know any more just look around on my blog or send an ask, Q&A for OCs are open, and I'm open to art/writing requests/ideas! ❤

#toonytoodlesocs #avery trowbridge #amelia mcconnel #sofia hodges #clementine moores #pond the elemental #sapphire and kalvin #andie & andy

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rainythefox · 5 years ago

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Nightfall (CH.12)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill. Rated M for eventual smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 12: Complicit

Claire couldn’t believe this was happening. After two days of “late night babysitting” preparing for this…mission, she was about to actually undergo it. She was kinda freaking out deep down, but her Redfield nerve and composure never broke a sweat on the outside.

She lingered, eyes firmly set on the double glass doors and the welcoming signs, faint traces of snow dancing around her. Would she be able to do this?

“Losing your nerve already? Pity. Thought you redheads had more spunk than this...”

Wesker’s velvety voice crept through the tiny headphone hidden in her right ear. It wasn’t the only thing he attached to her. There was a video camera, the smallest and most advanced she had ever seen, and some kind of tracker, like he needed another way to keep her under his thumb. All to “help” her during this important task at hand that he so generously gave to her. And by generously, there were implications if she didn’t go through with this, that Chris would have a bad “accident”.

“The only nerve I’m about to lose is my last one with you,” she muttered, careful to not talk too loud as a few people slipped by her to enter the building, eager to get out of the dark evening's cold. “I’m ready when you are.”

Wesker’s low laugh through the earpiece made her shiver more than the icy wind blowing the snowflakes around. “I’m always ready, Claire. You should know that by now.”

“Whatever.” Ignoring the dark implications behind his words.

“I have the utmost faith in you, my dear. Do not disappoint me. You know the consequences.”

The younger Redfield took a deep breath. This was it. She would do this…she had to, for Chris.

She headed up the concrete steps and entered Raccoon University, bypassing the positive and welcoming signs advertising “Exclusive Open House for Umbrella’s Future Leaders!”

Claire immediately took notice of all the college students her age and even some older people here. The large, fancy lobby was decorated up for the occasion. There were balloons, finger foods and drinks, more signs and several tables for information on Umbrella programs, internships, scholarships, and grants. Distracted by all the dress up and people, Claire paused to get her bearings, only for someone to bump into her.

“Oh…sorry,” a girl around her age mumbled, wearing a green jacket and looking of Japanese descent. She smiled apologetically and readjusted her backpack strap. Claire noticed right away she seemed a little spacey, but didn’t think much on it.

“All good,” she replied and allowed the girl to pass. Claire watched her walk over to the corner by some of the many leather lounge chairs and tables, sitting with a girl in a yellow hoodie with a long braid and glasses.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to Umbrella’s Open House!” The voice immediately drew Claire’s attention and she turned towards the front desk of the lobby, where three men stood in suits. She immediately recognized them from the research and planning she had gone through for the past two days in order to do this assignment. The man speaking was Greg Mueller, a professor here at the university that also worked for Umbrella. On his right stood another professor and Umbrella researcher, Simon Lowery. The man on the left was well-known Umbrella researcher and medical doctor, Nathanial Bard.

“We hope you are enjoying the delicious food and beverages catered to us by our local favorite restaurant, Grill 13,” Mueller continued. “And of course, staying warm from good ‘ol RC snow. Now, before we begin with tonight’s exciting tour of our historical university, introductions are in order! I’m Dr. Greg Mueller, head of the Research and Lab department of the University and I teach several courses. With me is my colleague and good friend, Dr. Simon Lowery. He’s essential to my team here and makes sure that everything runs smoothly and you have him to thank for some amazing programs to help you on your journey to a brighter future here. Last, but certainly not least, our special guest tonight is the revered Dr. Nathanial Bard of Spencer Memorial Hospital, whose achievements are nothing short of ground-breaking, and he will help you get started on which of Umbrella’s programs will serve you best. I’m going to hand the mic to Simon now.”

Lowery looked to be the younger of the three and wasn’t shy when he took the mic from his colleague. “Thanks Greg. Hello everyone! You know, this is the third year Greg and I have helmed this open house in search of bright pupils with a future at Umbrella Corporation. We have fun every year, and it’s always great meeting every single one of you. Now take your time, visit, mingle, get to know each other, make yourself at home and help yourselves to all this delicious food - I personally recommend the smoked sausages, they’re my favorite! - and please check out each booth we have set up for more information on what programs Umbrella has to offer for you, and we will go into depth later on after the tour. Dr. Bard, would you like to say anything?”

“Of course,” he said and snatched the mic with a wide, fake grin. “There’s something for everyone here. You absolutely will not leave empty handed. Umbrella cares about each and every one of your futures, and we are here to help. It’s my personal mission to make sure every individual will get the help and information they need to ensure a prosperous future. You have my word! Welcome to Umbrella’s open house!”

The three men put up the microphone and split up to join the chatting groups of visitors. Claire kept her cool, getting herself a cup of spiced cider and checking out the information booths just like everyone else.

She could certainly understand why Wesker was using her in this infiltration. There was no doubt she blended right in with the crowd of college ready young adults. She could tell by overhearing bits of conversations that many were already students here at the university while others were newcomers.

The hardest part was waiting. She couldn't get to the next step of the plan if they didn’t go on the tour around the university. So the younger Redfield put on a charming smile and worked the crowd, pretending to be one of them, fishing for information as she waited.

"Such a charmer you are, dear heart. But be careful of whom you charm. Some snakes are immune to the flute."

"Like you?" Claire whispered.

"I'm impervious to the charms of nearly everyone. Most people are just so predictable and boring. Thankfully, you are not ‘most people’...”

Is he really flirting with me over the radio or am I just hearing things? Claire sighed. As if she didn’t have enough on her plate at the moment!

“Oh! Tell her to sneak some shrimp into Nate’s food. I wanna see the dickhole swell up like a balloon and choke.”

She stood corrected, instantly, after William talked smack on the other side. But his big mouth didn’t get to say anything else before a loud yelp rang her eardrum and all became quiet again.

Claire shook her head, but soon a tall figure slipped around from behind her and greeted her with a smile that was more lecherous than cordial.

“Good evening! Dr. Nathanial Bard, how are you, Miss?”

He extended his hand. Claire panicked for a moment because she never came up with a fake identity even after Wesker’s insistence upon it. He had said the chances of her being approached were slim, but not impossible.

“Do not give him your real name. You’ll want to drop conversation with him as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible.”

As Bard frowned, the name finally hit her and Claire eased a fake smile that looked natural. “Elza. Elza Walker. Nice to meet you, Dr. Bard.” She took his hand and shook it, internally gagging.

His eyebrows rose high. “That is such a pretty and unique name. You from Raccoon City?”

“No, sir. In town visiting family. I was thinking about transferring to Raccoon University and a friend told me about the open house. Figured I’d give it a try and see.”

She could feel his eyes skim over her, not near as clandestine as Wesker was, and, dare she admit, not near as tantalizing as him either. Claire squeezed the cup of hot spiced cider in her hand, restraining herself from splashing it in his face.

Bard’s smile widened. “Well, I think you’re in luck, my dear!”

The younger Redfield didn’t realize how much she secretly liked Wesker’s pet names for her until it came from someone else’s tongue. She internally shook her head. Now was not the time to start having the warm fuzzies for that asshole. Claire could hardly believe she was even thinking in this direction. Had to be the stress of going undercover while quite literally having Wesker breathe down her neck...yes, that was it. It had to be.

Get it together!

“There’s a program for everyone! Umbrella Corporation wants you to succeed! Grants, scholarships! Umbrella will even pay for everything for you to transfer. There is no shortage of bursaries here. What kind of field are you looking to get into?”

Bard leaned in closer, suave and friendly. It would’ve fooled anyone else, but not Claire. This man was digging for something. She could only hope that he was being a lecher and wasn’t seeing through to her true motives.

“You’re stalling. Get out of there.”

Wesker sounded annoyed, but she couldn’t determine why. It wasn’t as though she had messed up the mission...yet.

“You know, I’m still on the fence,” Claire made up, slowly backing away.

Bard chuckled. “One of those, huh? No worries. When I was your age, I didn’t have a clue either. But do not fret, Miss Walker, my colleagues and I are here to help. There’s no need to decide right now. After the tour, we can sit down and talk it over. We can still find something right for you even if you haven’t decided on a major.”

“Oh, the tour...right,” Claire faked ditzyness. “I better go to the little girl’s room before it starts!”

She beelined for the restrooms just to the side of the information center in the lobby, even as the doctor told her directions. She sat her cup down on a table as she passed by, glancing over her shoulder. She spotted Dr. Bard motioning her way to the younger Dr. Lowery, the two men speaking quietly.

There were a few other girls in the restroom. One student flushed a toilet and came out, washing her hands and leaving quietly. A couple fixed their makeup while gossiping. Since Claire didn’t need to go, and wasn’t about to while Wesker was able to see everything, she pretended to check her face over too. She fluffed her hair, left down in long waves for the occasion.

“Worried about looking good enough for me, Claire? Don’t be. You still have work to do, and it doesn’t matter to me what your hair looks like while doing it. Just do it.” Wesker mocked. The biting humor in his admonishment was hard to miss.

“Geez, you really need to be nicer if you want to get laid, buddy!” William muttered in the distance. “OW! Fuck…”

Despite the wheeze of pain and cursing, distant chuckling sieved through the earbud. But Claire ignored it, instead nearly bristling and turned on the tap to wash her hands as the girls left back out to the lobby.

“I am doing it, asshole. Even with lecherous old men hitting on me, which wasn’t a part of the plan, by the way! No need to be so pushy. If you want me to go under cover here and make it believable, then let me handle it. It’ll get done, stop riding my ass!”

There was a moment of silence before William snorted loudly in the back, laughing. “That’s what she said!” He cackled loudly in amusement. “Man, I like her more and more every day...the girl has balls.”

Wesker's laughter was quieter, colder. “If you insist, dear heart. I’m just offering my humble assistance to make things go over smoothly. Just get the job done and we’re fine.”

Humble, my ass! Claire thought sourly.

The Redfield sister heard them announcing the tour. She quickly dried her hands and exited the restroom, melding herself into the back of the group. This would be the slowest process, she knew, but kept her wits about her even as she only half-listened to the doctors as they rattled off trivia and history over the university.

They took the upper floors first, pointing out classrooms that covered the liberal arts and the professors who taught them. Dr. Mueller told them the history of the iconic bell tower.

“Jesus, Greg, you’re putting me to sleep over here, put some life into it!” William huffed. “You seriously make me want to shoot myself.”

At least Lowery had a bit more spunk and spirit as he raved about the college’s sports teams, particularly the football team, the Raccoon Sharks. Which Claire never understood why they chose “sharks” and not, well, “raccoons” for obvious reasons. But hey, at least the sharks were colored up like raccoons.

They returned to the first floor and continued the tour. There was the fancy cafeteria, the huge library, and more classrooms. The doctors talked about more of the programs and classes, semester activities, and the following herd asked questions in return.

They left the main establishment to take a walkway to a neighboring building. It was still lightly snowing, but the walkway was covered. It was also illuminated by soft, yellow lights. Claire could hear the Circular River rushing nearby, as the institution was built along its path.

This was the building she had been waiting on. It was essentially its own facility, running classrooms, laboratories, and other departments, doubling as a school and a research center for Umbrella.

Claire used to not think anything of it, even admired how much Umbrella helped out the city between their programs at the university and hospitals, as well as their charities and large scale employment. Now, the deeper she went down this rabbit hole being dragged by Wesker’s leash, she started to wonder what was really going on.

Men like Albert Wesker, William Birkin, and Sergei Vladimir were not the type to work for “good guys”. Even the three doctors Mueller, Lowery, and Bard were all hiding something, that much was certainly clear.

So, what was Umbrella hiding? What were they hiding that required the Captain of the elite S.T.A.R.S. force and the Police Chief to control the city? That required them to murder people once they knew too much? And what about that top-secret underground Umbrella facility that William reigned over?

Claire had a flashback of Wesker pulling the trigger on Finley’s head, the blood spraying across fresh snow; how his fate was completely covered up with no one to question or oppose it. She recalled watching the news just the other day reporting on how his body was discovered and ruled a suicide in his car.

What happened to Mr. Finley back there will never be brought to light. He died in a car crash, you see. Committed suicide, or simply disappeared. His fate is whatever I decide to make it. You and your brother are no different, same with all the others who thought they could expose me. Wesker’s voice echoed in the back of her head from that fateful day.

Maybe Umbrella were still the good guys. Maybe Wesker, Irons, William, and Sergei were the infestation of corruption, growing and taking control, like weeds strangling a fruit tree from its roots. Yeah, surely that was it.

But deep down, she didn’t believe herself.

Once they were inside Dr. Mueller’s state-of-the-art laboratory that connected to a classroom laboratory through two automatic sliding doors, the professor slash researcher began boasting with a lot more pride and spirit than his lecture on the university’s trivia earlier. He showed off some equipment in his place between Lowery and Bard.

Again, Claire only half-listened, her eyes scanning the area for her objective.

“In short, there is no other research department like this in the country. My laboratory is vital to Umbrella’s key studies on disease prevention and cures.”

“C’mon Greg, you’re a glorified babysitter with a sandbox! Mine’s way better!” William hollered, sounding like his mouth was full. Coffee break between two sessions of unethical lab work, she supposed. Just another day at the office, between blackmailing and killing people. Nothing to write home about.

Wesker sighed. “If you wish to do a dick measuring contest with someone, at least choose some actual competition.”

“My dick’s bigger than all three of theirs. I got pics to prove it. Don’t ask. I have my sources. Courtesy from their parties with the senator. I will nail those dick pics to their corpses when we’re done with them too.”

And yet I wondered how these two are best friends…silly me.

“Claire, as soon as they leave the laboratory, the power failure will engage. Be ready. The laboratory’s backup power will switch on, but the security systems will remain down.”

“Got it.”

Still, William’s words hung her up. There was nothing stated in all the planning that anyone would be killed...but what if she was setting it up for these three men to die? No, she specifically remembered Wesker wanting to gain control over them. They were useless to him dead. But that didn’t mean their value to him didn’t have an expiration date…

Claire shook out the thoughts and trailed after the rest of the group once more. The double doors to the neighboring classroom laboratory slid open and the mass of people passed through, the doctors taking turns to address their followers. Some of the crowd whispered amongst themselves, but they were mostly quiet.

As the last few went through the doorway, Claire purposely slowed herself down to where the door slid shut inches from her. The power instantly went out. Total darkness and stillness swallowed her for only a moment before the laboratory’s backup power switched on. But just as planned, the double doors were locked, glowing red above.

She barely heard the mumblings of surprise on the other side before turning and speeding towards the main computer in the back, located near a single locked electronic door with a sign that stated, “Authorized personnel only!”

Claire reached inside her parka pocket and pulled out the computer disk. The same, unmarked one she got the other day when Wesker was using her to fetch from his informants. She pushed it into the drive, fingers itching to get this over with.

“You have just under four minutes, Miss Redfield. Don’t drop the ball now.”

She ignored him and typed away, putting in the passwords and entries she had memorized from the planning process of this infiltration.

The spyware program uploaded onto the mainframe in a timely fashion. What took a bit longer was it copying information back onto the disk, whatever that was. While it processed, the younger Redfield moved to a nearby set of drawers.

“You sure it’s the bottom one?”

“That is what my source informed me.”

“They better be right.”

Claire retrieved her lockpick from her pants pocket, the one gifted to her from Jill, the same one she used to break into Wesker’s house. She carefully worked the lock, listening, feeling, remaining focused. It finally gave and she pulled the drawer open. Inside was what she was looking for.

"Looks like the "master of unlocking" taught you well. Shocker. Guess you stumbling into my affairs paid off in the end, in more than one way... "

The sealed yellow envelope inside looked harmless enough. But the label printed on it in red ink chilled her to the bone. Requested research for THANATOS PROJECT.

The name sounded ominous to her, and she couldn’t help the shiver running down her spine. She had a bad feeling about this.

Claire retrieved it from the drawer, looking it over. It was heavy, full of papers and what felt like maybe a USB drive. There was a white sticker in the bottom right hand corner that read, “Paid in full. - AR.”

Those initials had to be Aaron Roth. If only Wesker wasn’t spying on her and she had the time...she would’ve ripped into the envelope to see what they were all hiding.

She slid the drawer shut and returned to the computer. The disk was ready to be removed. She took it back and returned it to her pocket. Taking a step back, she looked it over once more. Everything was in place and didn’t look disturbed.

“Finished in a timely fashion. I’m impressed. You’re certainly talented in more ways than one. I’m almost tempted to hire you again, dear heart. I’m sure I could find some use for you...”

“You didn’t hire me, asshole, you blackmailed me.”

“Semantics. What matters is a satisfying outcome...wouldn’t you agree?” Wesker purred in her ear.

Oh God. Was it just her or was there a double entendre somewhere in there? Sweat broke out on Claire’s forehead even though she had managed to keep her cool until now, but Wesker making ambiguous remarks was getting to her. Nervously (and not just a little bit annoyed with herself), she discreetly wiped her sweaty bangs from her forehead.

Let’s get this over with, she admonished herself. The sooner her dealings with the corrupt STARS Captain were over, the better.

The college student stuffed the envelope inside her jacket and under her arm since it was too big to put in a pocket. She hurried over to the double doors, knowing time was almost up. If it all went according to plan, the doctors and their party would still be in the dark locked in the next room. The backup power in this area would be cut off and the doors would open just long enough to allow her back with the others before all power returned.

When the lights went out, Claire barely heard the doors skim apart, courtesy of whoever was controlling the university’s power system. She stepped over the threshold into the classroom, moving further in, careful not to run into anything. This particular laboratory for regular classes had large windows on the opposite side, but it was so dark outside, it barely helped light anything.

But soon it didn’t matter. The power returned in an instant, back to normal, as though it had never been touched. Claire wasn’t far from the group and quietly joined them as everyone got their bearings, blinking to adjust to the sudden bright lights. Startled voices talked over each other.

“Everyone, everyone, settle down. Everything is fine!” Mueller announced. “Just a small power failure. Let’s return to the lobby and I will have someone look into it!”

Relieved, Claire followed along as Mueller and Bard escorted everyone out of the classroom while Lowery remained behind by the door checking on the visitors. That was normal and understandable enough until his brown eyes pierced her. Watchful. Suspicious. She kept her composure, offering him an innocent smile as she slipped by him and out the door. He didn’t say anything, but Claire felt his eyes on her back until she caught up with the others, heart slightly racing.

Surely, he wasn’t onto her. There could be no way.

"Think he's onto me," Claire whispered as voices boomed through the massive hallways, the herd migrating back to the lobby.

"Irrelevant," Wesker answered. "As soon as you return to the lobby, make your leave. Without notice, preferably."

"Don't worry, Claire. Lowery's a nerdy bag of stress and paranoia. Nothing to fear there," William added.

"Like you?" Wesker mocked.

"You know, I’m half-tempted to empty one of my petri dishes into your coffee next time you’re not looking. Don’t push your luck, jerk. Annette always says you wouldn’t like me angry. And you know how Anne’s always right. Even she says so!"

Amused chuckling was all he got as a reply from Wesker.

Claire rolled her eyes at their continuous banter. God, she swore these two were like old marrieds.

Once they all filed into the lobby, most visitors either took a seat or went and got more food. She soon noticed a couple heading for the front doors, sliding on their coats, and took advantage, inconspicuously joining them.

"Hold on, please, you three," Bard hollered, making the trio pause and look. "Before you leave, let us make sure everyone is accounted for from the power outage. A small safety regulation we must abide by."

Claire inwardly groaned and moved away from the doors with the others. Bard and Mueller finished speaking together in a hushed huddle and went opposite ways.

"What are you doing?" Wesker asked.

"You said to leave without being noticed. Did you not hear him?"

"Then find another way out. Do it quickly."

Claire ground her jaw but didn't answer. She looked around, thinking of a way she could escape. More university workers were showing up now from other hallways, probably disturbed by the power failure. Lowery had yet to return.

She watched Dr. Bard set a plate of food down on an empty table and left it to go introduce himself to another pretty face, using the same charm he had used on her.

Apparently, the prick was only interested in helping students he found attractive. The girl obviously looked uncomfortable but smiled to be nice, and that didn't sit well with her one bit.

But since kicking him where it counted would cause a scene, the younger Redfield soon found herself scheming up something better.

Casually, she went over to the buffet of refreshments, picking up a plate and grabbing a few random foods. She sat down at a table close to Bard's plate, eyes scanning. People were talking or reading while they ate. She de-shelled one cold shrimp and broke it up into chunks.

She had only a tiny window of opportunity here, and it all determined on the selections of food on his plate. Pulse racing but outwardly composed, she discreetly took a stroll over to his plate. From afar she analyzed what was on it, and what would best conceal her ticket to freedom.

“HOLY SHIT, SHE’S GONNA DO IT! I LOVE THIS GIRL!” William squealed in delight.

She winced, retracting the urge to rub her eardrum. Her deft hands quickly stuffed the pieces of shrimp into a club sandwich triangle. It was pressed back into place with the toothpick and then she was off, glancing around to make sure she hadn’t been caught. Everything went on as normal. Claire got some more spiced cider and returned to her seat to wait.

“Don’t tell Anne, but If I wasn’t already married...” William softly laughed in her ear. She could tell he was trying to whisper, but the eccentric, mad scientist didn’t realize he was louder than he thought. “She’s a keeper, Al. Don’t screw this up!”

Screw what up? Keep me...for what exactly? Stop giving him any ideas, William! God, this is really getting out of hand...

Claire facepalmed as she started to feel hot under her collar and blamed the thrill of committing a heist under everybody’s noses for it.

The Redfield sister didn’t have much time to dwell on it before she spotted Dr. Lowery emerging into the lobby. She instinctively made herself smaller as he marched across the room, going straight to Dr. Mueller.

He pulled the older man aside, whispering urgently. Claire started sweating in serious now. Especially when their eyes scanned the full lobby until Lowery pointed her out.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath. She pretended not to notice them, her nerves beginning to rattle a little. She reluctantly called for help. “Wesker…”

“What is it?” Claire wasn’t sure if it was just her hearing things, but he actually sounded a little concerned.

And then she was saved. Not by the bell but by commotion. People shouted and pointed, some moving in closer to watch or help as an individual choked. Dr. Bard was turning red, red like the shellfish he had just unknowingly consumed. Mueller raced across the lobby for him, Lowery right behind him after giving her one glance.

Claire took her chance. She sprinted for the doors and was out, taking the concrete steps two at a time and bolting across the front courtyard through the snow flurries with only the college ground lights to guide her.

When she made it through the opened gates and took a sharp turn on the sidewalk, she collided straight into another person and nearly lost her footing. She dropped the enveloped stashed inside her coat.

“Sorry, Miss. I should’ve been watching where I was going,” the young man said with a charming smile, stooping to pick up the envelope for her.

He slightly flinched when he picked it up and noticed the label, as though he recognized it. But it was gone in an instant and he presented it to her with a warm smile and twinkling green eyes.

“What the hell is he doing there?!” William demanded.

Wesker ignored him and promptly spoke to Claire. “Take it and leave, do not engage in conversation with him, Claire. That is an order.”

“Leave?! This may be our only opportunity to kill the bastard!”

“Are you okay, Miss? Do you need help?” the man asked.

She silently obeyed Wesker, snatching the yellow envelope back and hurrying past him. The redhead didn’t look over her shoulder, but she could feel the man watching her until she turned down the next block.

Panting, the icy wind cutting her throat, she finally slowed to a walk, heading for her next destination. Traffic rolled by her, beams of headlights stretching down the streets and making the falling snowflakes sparkle. There weren’t many other pedestrians out walking the streets, but she did spot many inside buildings shopping or having a coffee.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Aaron Roth,” Wesker answered nonchalantly. “He’s not someone you should involve yourself with.”

“Oh, but I should involve myself with you?”

Wesker chuckled mockingly. “Wishful thinking, Claire? I’m flattered. Then again, I’ve been known to have that effect on redheads...must be genetic.”

Claire bit her tongue. She pulled her parka hood over her head, bundling up from the cold. After passing by the empty elementary school, she cut across the parking lot to the bus barn next door.

Her ride would arrive here to pick her up. Unfortunately, Claire wouldn’t be going home just yet. She had to meet Wesker in person first. She just hoped that Chris wasn’t getting worried...or worse, suspicious.

The bus barn was a large depot and mechanic shop for all the schools’ buses. Rows and rows of parked long, yellow buses slept quietly. It was dreary and quiet, with snow falling lightly all around. A person could easily get spooked by themselves here, as though they were trapped amongst sleeping giants.

“There’s been a change in plans,” Wesker announced. “My main liaison will not be picking you up. Instead the collaborator that worked the power outages at the university will. He should be there shortly.”

“Okay,” Claire mumbled through chattering teeth.

“I’m going to sign off for now, dear heart. Well done. See you soon.”

She was relieved for the silence. Claire waited with her hands in her pockets, back against a cold bus, shivering, watching the snowflakes swirl around. The lights of Raccoon City at night were beautiful to look at, some of the skyscrapers in the distance were lit up in Christmas colors. The younger Redfield was so lost in observing the serene scenery around her that she did not hear the pair of feet that had slowly walked closer to her.

"Found you!"

The voice startled her and she pushed away from the bus, whirling to confront them. Shocked, she didn't say anything as Lowery cautiously approached, encased in shadow from a looming bus nearby, and sounding a little out of breath.

"The hell?" Claire hissed. "What do you want?" She reached for her knife in her pocket.

As Lowery stepped into the light, speckles of snow in his brown hair, she noticed the gun pointed at her chest.

“Lucky shot!” Chris whined.

Jill laughed, moving around the pool table to take her next move. “Suck it up, buttercup! You’re about to lose to a girl!”

“It’s these beers. They threw me off my groove.”

Jack’s Bar was crowded tonight. The bar was full and so were most of the tables. Music played on the radio, but it could barely be heard from all the talking and laughter bouncing around. The bar-and-grill was decorated up with Christmas decor and lights, looking quite festive and bright.

His partner made the winning shot that cost him this game of pool. She won the last time they were here too.

“Whoo!” Jill exclaimed, arms shooting in the air and grinning at him. “You know what that means, partner!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris grumbled, fishing for his wallet. He looked around him and then spotted the familiar face he was seeking. “Hey, Cindy! C’mere!”

The favorite waitress of J’s came over, an empty tray under her arm. The young, pretty blonde smiled and giggled. “Let me guess, lose again, Chris?”

“Hey, I’ve won before, okay?!”

“A Mai Tai then?”

“Yeah,” Chris answered, giving her a $10 bill. “Here’s for another plus tip...because I know Miss Sharpshooter here’s gonna want seconds.”

“Why wouldn’t I when your pouty ass is buying?” Jill snickered.

They made faces at each other, and then Chris spotted the rest of their party arriving. “Oh, bring the drinks to our usual table, the guys are finally here.”

Cindy nodded. “Will do. You want your usual?”

“Yeah, add it to my tab.”

Chris and Jill joined the others at their usual table. The STARS teams came here often to wind down and have fun, different mixes of teammates each time from differing schedules. Hell, even the Captains came once in a while.

Wesker was a pro at pool, too. And Jill had been on his team a few times. She said he taught her tricks...something about math and trajectory or some shit. Who does that? Didn’t people just point and shoot at the balls with their cue sticks?

The gang tonight consisted of Chris, Jill, Barry, Joseph, Forest, and Richard. Tagging along with Barry was Robert Kendo, which wasn’t uncommon. They ordered their food and drinks, a perfect view of the hockey game playing on the hanging box TV. While waiting, the group of friends and colleagues joked and small-talked.

“So, Kendo, how’s that new assault shotgun model coming along?” Richard asked.

Kendo cracked a grin as he took a swig of beer. “You ask me that every damn time you see me, Rich. Look, I’ll personally call ya when I make a breakthrough, alright?”

“You better! I’m excited!”

“Coulda fooled me!”

Cindy and her friend and co-worker soon brought their food and drinks. Chris could never remember the young lad’s name...Bill? No...Will. It made him think of William Birkin again...the mysterious man that Claire was babysitting for. The past couple of nights she had stayed out late babysitting, and it seemed as though tonight would be the same. He just hoped that’s what she was really doing…

“Cindy, babe, could you please turn the station? I cannot stand these damn Christmas tunes anymore!” Forest complained.

“Aw, c’mon, Forest. Get into the holiday spirit!” Cindy exclaimed. “Don’t be a grinch!”

“Don’t insult the Grinch like that,” Joseph joked.

Cindy gave him a look. “Don’t be a meanie, Joe.”

“Eh, he’s just jealous of my hair, Cin. That’s why he fucking hides his under that stupid bandana all the time.”

“You wish.”

Cindy casually shook her head, used to their antics, and left them to their meals. The gang discussed their plans for the upcoming holiday, after work of course. Most of the STARS team had family here to celebrate with. If Chris remembered correctly, only he (other than Claire), Jill, and Captain Wesker didn’t have any family.

Soon, they got on the topic of gifts.

“I finally found Claire’s Christmas gift. She’s gonna love it. I picked it up the other day. She’ll never find it!”

Jill laughed beside him. “That’s because it’s at my house!”

“Your house is the safest place! She’s a sneaky little brat and will find it!”

“Speaking of which,” Barry interrupted, dipping a couple fries into his ketchup. “I figured you wouldn’t be coming tonight because Claire’s in town. She make you come out?”

“Probably,” Richard snorted. “I’d need a break from him too.”

“Nah, she’s been babysitting for someone. Last few days she’s had to babysit well into the night.”

Joseph snickered. “That’s what I’d say too if I was messing around with a guy I didn’t want my big brother to know about.”

Chris shot his colleague a glare that almost dropped him dead. Joseph stuffed his mouth with a big bite of hamburger.

Kendo cleared his throat, pushing his empty beer bottle up to the middle of the table. "Oh! That reminds me, Chris. Did Claire get into trouble?”

“Huh? No, why?”

“I was on the other side of town yesterday evening picking up Emma’s medicine and I saw her with the Captain. He opened his car door for her and she got in.”

“Which Captain? Enrico? Or Wesker?” Richard asked curiously.

“Yeah, cuz that determines how much trouble she must’ve been in,” Forest teased.

Kendo half-rolled his eyes, sighing. “THE Captain, ya idiots. Wesker. I saw her with Wesker. She got into his car and they drove off.”

“See? I told you there was a guy she didn’t want you to know about!” Joseph laughed. “They must’ve hit it off after she went down to the station to give him a piece of her mind. Bet now she’s giving him a piece of something better!” Barry slugged him hard in the arm. “Ow!”

This was new information to Chris. He sat there, dumbfounded, at a loss for words as his mind processed exactly what Robert had said. “She didn’t get in trouble...that I know of. Wesker would’ve called me, for sure.”

Barry frowned. “For sure…But then why else would Claire be with him?”

“Chris, buddy, I love you, but let’s be honest here, they’re probably doing the nasty.”

“Jesus, Forest,” Jill growled, facepalming. “Don’t be starting those kinds of rumors.”

“Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, s’all I’m sayin’.”

Chris glared at Forest. “Between you and Joseph, I’m gonna shove those beer bottles so far up your backdoor you two won’t be walking straight. Ever. Again.”

“Sorry,” Kendo interrupted. “I didn’t mean to get everyone so riled up. I was just curious. Looked harmless to me.”

“Dumb and Dumber here like to start shit,” Barry explained, glaring at Joseph and Forest. “I’m sure it was harmless. It is Wesker, after all. Maybe she just needed a ride.”

“Or maybe he offered her one,” Jill added. “He’s quite the gentleman.”

“Gentleman?!” Forest scoffed. “The guy’s a hard ass and a dick to us most of the time!”

“I mean, yeah, he kinda has to be. He’s our boss. But really, he isn’t that bad to most of us. You two just get on his nerves all the time,” Richard admitted.

“Hey, who’s side are you on, Aiken?”

“I’m j-just s-stating the facts!”

“Alright, alright, knock it off, all of you,” Jill ordered in her “mom voice”.

“It’s all harmless joking,” Joseph defended. “And Chris knows it, right bud? I mean, how often do I joke what if Wesker is actually a sociopathic supervillain on a quest for power? Of course he isn’t...but I sometimes wonder!”

Chris shook his head. Joseph and Forest were frustrating at times with their nonstop jokes, but he knew it was never mean-spirited. They all ribbed each other all the time; it was their clique’s twisted way of showing they cared about each other.

“You and your weird conspiracies, Joe...But really, let’s just drop the subject, okay? I don’t care why Claire was with Wesker,” he lied. “Because I know it doesn’t mean anything. Got it?”

“Got it,” they all agreed.

“Good. Now can we all please get along, drink some beer, and talk about something pleasant? Like the weather or something?”

They all looked to the front of the bar, where the windows were. Snow fell just outside, looking to have picked up since they arrived at the bar.

“Oh yeah, pleasant RC snow...love it,” Jill quipped dryly.

Chris scowled, rubbing the back of his neck. He had even more worries on his mind now, thanks to their earlier discussion. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push them away.

His overreacting, protective brotherly instincts had continued to gnaw at him, making him wonder about the integrity of this “babysitting job”. Claire had never given him a reason to doubt her, but still he worried.

There was something going on with Claire. She was definitely hiding something, and his innate detective instincts kept putting together the clues, all starting over a week ago. Some kind of worry or panic she hid from that jog on the mountain hiking trails, her quiet, wandering thoughts, some questionable explanations, the injuries she hid on her hand and ankle...and then this Wiliam Birkin came out of nowhere with a babysitting job for her. “A friend of a friend.”

And now she was with Wesker on the other side of town when she was supposed to be babysitting? That set off a whole wave of bad thoughts and red flags in his mind.

No, he told himself firmly. It’s Wesker. There has to be a logical explanation! I bet it’s all harmless and I’m worried for nothing.

Captain Wesker may have been a hard ass at times, and he and Chris bumped heads occasionally, but they respected each other and got along great most of the time. He was one of the best men he knew. A damn good leader and boss, too. After his big screw up in the Air Force, not many were willing to give Chris a chance, and Wesker did.

There was absolutely no reason to worry about Claire being with him. If anything, it should have relieved him...knowing his little sister was in good hands. Wesker would take care of her.

But deep down inside, something small, some miniscule but insistent doubt ate at him. A growing part of him was questioning whether everything was as innocent as it seemed...

#resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfic #Albert Wesker #Claire Redfield #William Birkin #clairexwesker #claire x wesker #fanfiction #fanfic #Chris Redfield #Jill Valentine #chris x jill #ChrisxJill

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nostalgicidiot · 5 years ago

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For the D&D ask meme, could you answer 4, 9, 12, 18, 21 for me? Thank you! 😊

*insert it’s been 84 years gif here*. Terribly sorry it took me so long to answer this, kind anon! Thank you so much for this ask tho :).4. Your current campaign. My current campaign is also my first one ever. Long story short, my friends and I got hooked on Critical Role last year and this sparked our interest in DnD. Speaking solely for myself, I’ve played pen and paper games before (I know a few of us did, too), but did not have much luck when it came to finding a steady group. Fast forward to almost one year later, we are now six players, one first-time DM who is utterly brilliant at breaking our hearts creating his own world and making us suffer (ok, we really don’t need him for that). All of our characters are squishy magic users (except for our rogue who’s also squishy and only starting to learn bits and pieces of magic): our party consists of one bard, one rogue, one sorcerer, one warlock and two druids (one of them is played by me). If chaotic stupid were an alignment, ¾ of our party would have it (me included): our sorceress is in possession of our shared braincell 99% of the time. It started with the four us (two friends joined later on) traveling together. In our first session our bard managed to get herself cursed (by touching an obviously cursed dragon statue), but that was only the beginning. A very real dragon appeared, destroying our means of transportation and killing almost every NPC except for three (I think). Oh, the adjoining forest also almost completely burned to the ground. How we made it out alive? Sheer dumb luck.You might think it got better from there on? Nope. Currently, we’re stuck in the hometown of our rogue, where she was a wanted person. Our bard’s curse gets worse by the day, other people are infected as well and we’re trying to solve this mystery if we don’t get sidetracked by (mostly accidentally) wreacking havoc on our surroundings (chaotic stupid, remember?)But in all seriousness: I love our campaign, characters, NPCs, my fellow players and our DM with all my heart. It’s been a wild ride so far and idk what we will unleash on ourselves the further we delve into this story, but I wouldn’t wanna have it any other way? We’ve had some hilarious moments and some heartbreaking ones that made a few of us burst into tears irl. Man, I love DnD./rant ends.9. Your favorite thing about D&D. Oh boy, where do I even start? Getting together with friends, immersing yourself in a great fantasy setting, breaking your own heart by getting more attached to your character the longer you play them, going on adventures together and the amazing moments that ensue because of it, oh and hoarding dice (they’re so pretty, there’s no such thing as too many dice, right?). Not to sound sappy on main: but the entire journey? When you begin you might think this will just be a fun activity to do with your friends, but it turns into so much more, and that’s wonderful.12. Your in game inside jokes/memes/catchphrases and where they came from.Our druid Daedalee was called Daddy by a couple of our players (out of game) which basically led to the creation of his backstory (or an adjustment thereof).Our bard Aleyna once claimed as a kneejerk reaction that she couldn’t read or write, which we still bring up every now and then.My druid’s best friend/companion is a young bear: we made a lot of jokes about her referring to him as her son and the newest party members thinking she has an actual humanoid child that happens to chill out in the woods atm (sadly hasn’t happened in game yet). The fact that aforementioned characters don’t know about her bear and wonder why the hell she wants to search for random pebbles?Scaly and furry jokes ofc (for our cursed bard and wildshaping/bear-owning druid(s)All of us being unanimously in love with one of our DM’s NPCs (Snugg fan/wife club for the win).The vast majority of us being gay and dumb af.(@ petite-blossom and @mightynott made a vine compilation for our party and it’s hilarious).18. Does your party keep any pets? Since my druid girl keeps an actual bear by her side, big yes. He was not allowed to enter the city (and we were not very smart about it) and four session involved my character desperately trying to retrieve him to see if he’s fine. Also, I spent a huge chunk of my starting money on a bear saddle because I can.Furthermore, our rogue now has a bumblebee familiar (Icarus 21. Have you ever regretted something your character has done? She might have done a few stupid or impulsive things, but nothing that induced lasting panic, guilt or regret so far. Let’s hope it stays this way:(Only thing that she has regretted…is something she hasn’t done so far which is reaching out to her family at home.)Whoah, that’s it. Did not mean to turn this into a novel, but I have a lot of feelings about DnD xD. Thanks again for sending in your question!

#meme #ask meme #dnd meme #answered #anonymous

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jakey-beefed-it · 6 years ago

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What attracted you the race, class, background, alignment etc of your d&d character? I.e. What was the draw?

Gonna answer this for Altanin, my chaotic good tiefling barbarian, since he’s the one I play the most.

Race: Tieflings are neat! I’m always interested in half-breeds and ‘monstrous’ races who face judgment and discrimination because of my own mixed-race issues. Half-orc is the obvious choice for that, and particularly for a barbarian, but honestly I think horns are cooler than tusks. It’s... not deep or complicated, really- half-orcs are cool but tieflings are Cool(TM). Also, I love the shit out of the anti-antichrist angle, the ‘Hellboy just wants to pet cats and eat pancakes and you can fuck off with the whole Right Hand of Doom bullshit.’ So my poor boy grew up in a mongolian-type steppe nomad society where everyone was like ‘oh, yeah, that Altanin’s a pretty good dude for a DEMONIC BEING LABORING UNDER A BLOOD CURSE, WHY DID WE TAKE HIM INTO OUR TRIBE?! WE’RE CURSED!’ until he was eventually exiled- though not for tiefling stuff, sadly, but because he went into a barbarian rage and one-punch killed his fiancee’s asshole brother in what was supposed to be just an ordinary ‘fuck you though’ brawl.

Class: I’ve never played a barbarian before! I’ve played lots of paladins, I’ve played a wizard (abjurer with a high STR/CON who was prone to casting silence/antimagic field on enemy wizards and then just... just beating them senseless with his fists), I’ve played a fighter/rogue and a bard... I wanted to do something that was fairly straightforward combat-wise but would allow some shenanigans. Thought hard about going berserker but we kinda needed something tankier and we already had a rogue and a ranger who do P L E N T Y of damage, so, bear totem looked neat and I gave it a shot. Holy damn is it awesome. So now I’ve got a level seven slab of mongolian beef with 102 hp who, when raging, takes half damage from everything but psychic damage, and so effectively has like 204 hp unless a saucy bard insults his fashion sense (which is, admittedly, devastating). Not to mention the ‘double lifting and carrying capacity’ thing you get. So Altanin, a bit drunk at a party with aristocratic ladies and no idea how to impress them, was being 100% honest when he stammered ‘I can lift a horse you wanna see?’

Background: I knew I wanted to go for a ‘peripheral,’ less settled people for inspiration for my barbarian rather than someone from anyplace that considered itself ‘civilization.’ Vikings are rad as hell for that but it feels like it’s been done kind of a lot. So instead I went for ‘steppe nomad’ since they spent most of human history riding around making life extremely difficult for everyone bordering the entire fuckening eurasian steppe. In narrowing it down a bit I decided I liked the Mongols best. Not a strike against Scythians, Turks, Huns, etc., because they’re pretty rad, too. But Mongols, man. Mongols. Anyhow then I ended up dumping Wisdom so I was absolute shit at animal handling and decided Altanin was just like... the Worst Mongol(TM) and growing up he was never able to really ride around and herd sheep or whatever very effectively because he was so tall and awkward (most of his tribe were like, average-to-somewhat small stature, he is 7 feet fuckening tall) and the stubby horses were like ‘oh fuck no’ when he’d try to ride them. So instead he started literally pushing and then carrying the sheep back where they needed to be. And he got progressively stronger and stronger and built preposterous levels of stamina hauling full sized fucking animals around by foot fast enough to keep up even a little with the other kids assigned to round up the animals. Anyhow I had to give him a Tragic Backstory (well-adjusted people rarely take up adventuring) so I decided he’d been a foundling who grew up resented and largely outcast and who was eventually Banished For Life from the only people he’d ever known. As one does.

Alignment: I am a big softie and literally always play a good alignment. My paladins were all lawful good (back in MY day you HAD to be lawful good to be a paladin! kids these days and their more accepting deities who want paladins with matching ethoi *shakes fist*), my wizard was neutral good, my rogue/fighter and bard were chaotic good. Good because they all genuinely cared about helping other people. The law/chaos axis just describes how they thought one should go about it. My lawful good paladins always tried to be Just and Fair and once they got high level they did their best to be Reasonable Authority Figures. By and large they took a larger-view of trying to help society. The needs of the many and all that. My neutral good mage was a bit more flexible on bending the ‘rules’ if the results were good; he didn’t chafe at rules or structure so much but sometimes they could get in the way and so he’d... fudge, a bit. Look, sometimes you just gotta skip the paperwork and Do Good. Most of my chaotic good characters have been... vaguely criminal, or Living A Lie, or some other major reason to justify their alignment- valuing their individual freedom over boring ‘rules’ so long as nobody got hurt. Well, nobody innocent. Altanin has some of that attitude, but mostly he’s just got a narrower view on ‘doing good’ than my paladins- he doesn’t understand how to help Society, but by god he can help this person, here and now, if the damn cops will just shut up and let him do his thing and stop whining about ‘taking the law into his own hands’ or ‘frightening the local merchants by growling about capitalism’ or ‘destabilizing the local economy by giving wads of coin to everyone who looked like they needed a little help.’

Also frankly he’s just a lot more impulsive than my other characters tend to be, and that doesn’t work out so well with lawful good alignments, thematically, in my opinion. I mean, you absolutely COULD do a really compelling lawful good heart-on-sleeve recklessly kind character who would be really neat, it just didn’t feel right for Altanin, and that’s borne out well with his character development.

Thanks for the ask! I love talking about my enormous fiendish dire mongol son. Altanin, to paraphrase a meme, ‘looks like he could kill you, could actually kill you, but mostly just wants to help you unless you’re bad, and then he will yeet you into the next life.’

#Anonymous

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yellingmetatron · 6 years ago

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A Spooky Story for Halloween

‘Tis the season for spookiness, so I thought I’d share a little story. Is it related to my muse? No. Will it entertain you regardless? Might do. And hey, there’s gonna be a ghost lady. Bitches (by which I mean everyone on tumblr including myself) dig ghost ladies.

Now, I have seen a common complaint about the archetypal Beauty and the Beast story, which is that in most its iterations, the story is about a male monster being redeemed by a woman. “Why can’t a man see past a woman’s outer monstrosity and into the goodness within?” I hear you cry. “Must it always be a woman who bears a man’s darkness? Cannot a man love a monster for who she truly is?”

Well good news, kids: There is in fact a folktale that reverses the dynamic. As with most fairy tales, there are several different tellings, all valid. But I intend to share with you my favorite version, known popularly as “King Henry”, but re-imagined by myself as “King Doormat”. Why King Doormat? Oh, you’ll see.

Once upon a time in Ye Goode Olde Dayes, there lived a monarch called King Doormat. He was a paragon of chivalry in the Dark Ages and something of a moron, which is no doubt why he was so beloved by his subjects. When he wasn’t busy being chivalrous and a moron, he liked to go out into the forest with his entourage and hunt, because you’re not expected to be chivalrous to deer, something that his courtiers probably spent quite a while getting King Doormat to understand.

The king and his followers were having a jolly good day in the royal forest not being chivalrous to deer, when suddenly a storm blew in.

“Hey, said King Doormat, “This looks like it’s a real wicked pissah.” He was the King of Massachusetts, apparently. “Why don’t we take shelter in that hunting lodge?” The king gestured to nearby Doomdeath Hall, which had stood abandoned for half a century after the last Lord Doomdeath, Gerard Squiggleby, had been eaten alive by ghost monsters. The king’s retinue, who were less chivalrous than their liege but not much smarter, agreed.

They’d barely managed to break into the wine cellar when suddenly the storm outside got even worse. There was a flash of lightening, a sudden darkness, which is the opposite of lightening, and then a hideous screech that combined all the charm of nails on a chalkboard with the understated dignity of a cat stuck up a chimney. And then who should come stamping into the hall but a ghost monster? A lady ghost monster, even. Let’s let Steeleye Span describe her, because heaven knows I can’t be bothered to invest much energy in this story given I know how it comes out:

Her head hit the roof-tree of the house Her middle you could not span Each frightened huntsman fled the hall And left the king alone Her teeth were like the tether stakes Her nose like club or mell And nothing less she seemed to be Than a fiend that comes from hell

King Doormat, being so exceptionally chivalrous, did not run away, but instead offered her some food.

“I hope venison is OK,” said King Doormat fretfully, “Only my advisors tell me if you let peasants eat venison they turn to stone, so I hope you’re at least, like, a baroness—"

“I wanna eat your horse,” said the lady ghost monster.

“…My what?”

“Your horse. Kill your horse so I can eat it.”

“Oh, said King Doormat,” realization dawning, “You’re a French ghost. Well, no judgement here, my father always said it takes all kinds to—”

“Less talking more killing,” growled the lady ghost monster, her teeth lengthening and her hair catching fire.

So off Doormat went to kill his horse, and presented its carcass to the lady ghost monster. She turned to mist, crawled in one of its nostrils, and ate the whole thing from the inside-out, leaving only its skin.

“Well, that’s literally the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen,” said Doormat, “But at least it’s sort of overwhelmed the feeling of guilt I had for killing my favorite horse—”

“I wanna eat your dogs now,” said the lady ghost monster.

“…Wat.”

“Did I fudging stutter?”

“…But there’s still deer though.” Doormat gestured helplessly to the three deer carcasses lying in the corner. “I mean you could probably eat some organ meat without turning to stone, I hear most peasants—”

The lady ghost monster unhinged her jaw like a snake, bent all her joints backward, and made a sound like a foghorn being murdered by an ambulance siren in the king’s face.

“…OK, you can eat my dogs,” squeaked the king.

The lady ghost monster helpfully supervised the king in slaughtering the four dear hunting dogs he’d raised from puppies. Then she ate them.

“So,” said King Doormat, weeping uncontrollably, “I don’t want to be rude, but—”

“Gonna eat your hunting hawks now.”

“…OK.”

And so the lady ghost monster ate his hunting hawks. Of course she had him kill them himself, because she didn’t want to break a ghost nail or something. Then she made him sew up his horse’s hide into a giant wineskin and fill it with wine. The king was thankful for that home economics course he took once, especially that one class where they practiced sewing up horse hides into giant wineskins.

After she finished her drink the king fully expected her leave, because in these backward times ladies and gentlemen usually parted company after dinner, but she just hung around, staring at him with her great big scary lady ghost monster eyes.

“Nice… weather,” the king hazarded, “I mean, I usually prefer sunshine, but I imagine being a ghost monster storms are a bit more your jam, and I can kind of appreciate—”

“That’s racist,” the lady ghost monster said, “No go out and gather heather to make me a bed.”

So he did. Because of course he did. He wouldn’t be King Doormat if he didn’t. He picked all the heather he could outside, in the rain, by himself. He dried it by the fire, and offered her ermine mantle as a blanket.

“Now get naked and lie next to me,” said the lady ghost monster.

“Yes, lady ghost monster,” said the king, unlacing his tunic.

“And promise me you’ll marry me tomorrow.”

“I promise, lady ghost monster,” said the king, finishing taking off his clothes.

“I’m your fiancée now so you can call me Janet. And don’t hog all the mantle, I get cold easy.”

“Yes, Janet. No, Janet,” said the king lying next to her and thinking of England. Which was a bit weird considering we’d established that he’s the king of Massachusetts, but that’s hardly the strangest thing about this story. I’d like to remind you that this lady passed up eating three deer, just in case you forgot. They’re still there, the dead deer. Uneaten.

The next morning, the sun was shining and the birds were singing. The air smelled like pine, and lavender, and cotton candy, and honestly it was hell to someone with chronic rhinitis but King Doormat didn’t have that problem. He woke up pretty early but pretended to be asleep for a while in order to postpone acknowledging the terrible reality of his life, and in that moment truly appreciated what it was like to be the 99%.

“Open your eyes,” lilted a beautiful voice next to him. King Doormat did so, and what should he behold but the fairest lady in all the land.

“Oh goodly king,” said the lady, her voice like sweet music and kittens, “Thou hast broken the curse that ‘twas ‘pon me. Truly thou art chivalrous, giving me all I asked. I shall be thine own true love for all thy days, such love that only the bards sing. What say thee, good king Doormat? Am I not the most perfect woman for which a heterosexual man could ask?”

And King Doormat replied, “Bitch, you ate my pets.”

No, actually, of course he married her, but frankly I like my ending better. I mean, everyone gives the miller’s daughter in Rumpelstiltskin a lot of grief for marrying a guy who had repeatedly threatened to kill her, but at least she had the excuse of having basically no choice. I mean, would you turn down a marriage proposal from a guy who was both the reigning monarch and perfectly happy to kill people for incredibly petty reasons? Maybe she got to poison him and rule as Queen Regent after the business with Rumpelstiltskin was settled. That would have been a happy ending.

…what was I talking about? Oh, right. This story was Motif D732 in Stith Thompson's motif index, “The Loathly Lady”. Gender-inverted Beauty and the Beast. Not all versions of the story have a protagonist this spineless—I mean, “chivalrous”. I hope it tickled your spooky bone, and remember: If this night of All Hallows Eve you find yourself in the company of any lady (or gentleman) ghost monsters, be smart and don’t feed them your pets and then agree to marry them. Odds are they’ll actually get where you’re coming from and leave you alone, because life isn’t like fairy tales. And frankly some people would prefer to date ghost monsters instead of fair ladies, so no need to break any “curse”.

Happy Halloween!

#cut for length #out of voice

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selfshipstorm · 2 years ago

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Howdy Bear!!!! I am looking politely at this crush on a witch/demon oc 👀??? Tell me about them??

Clover @tex-treasures

Okay hi hello howdy Thank you for fuelling me ✨✨✨ asdfghjkl anyway

So this is Zorina

And this is her human disguise.

Rapid fire facts, go!

She tends to use the more feminine side of pronoun-land as that's how she presents but is honestly cool with whatever.

She's been around… far longer than she cares to recall, and stopped keeping track once her age hit 700 or so-

her accent is a mess. She's been around so long and in so many different places, picking up a bit from all of them that she's got her own accent that's unique to her.

the only alteration to her appearance from the provided picrews is that her horns are a bit longer / bigger and are kind of shaped like ram's horns

did she start originally as a dnd character, a tiefling bard / rogue multiclass? yes.

Zora has an extensive powerset i'm still playing around with, but shes got all the Basic Demon Powers with a few added perks from training with a witch a few hundred years ago.

Her human form was actually one of the things she learned from said witch.

The only trace of her demonic nature in her human form is her eyes. They stay red. She has tried and tried but cannot figure out how to reliably make her eyes look normal. She wears sunglasses a lot.

in her human form, in modern day, she quite enjoys the goth / alternative scene

( insert my s/i that im starting to develop to ship with her, who's basically me but a rockstar. i always wanted to be a rockstar )

shes basically the trophy goth gf and knows it

is completely transfixed by the evolution of technology. having been around so long and seen things grow, modern technology astounds her.

more than likely has ( or will later aquire ) a strange pet of some sort, like a snake

Sass Queen.

most people assume she loves coffee, but she actually cant stand it. its tea or nothing.

She's an old oc i rediscovered and started revamping and then kind of 'oops do i have a crush on you??? i think i do 🤔🤔'

I don't know What All To Say but she's great?? I have a lot of thoughts but don't know which ones are functionally relevant to being like "by the way, her" so if you wanna know something specific,,,, shoot me another ask or reply to this or smth and i will most definitely answer questions-

Thank you for the ask!!!!!

@tex-treasures

#opening the mailbox #tex-treasures #...should i give her a tag now #ill probably post about her again #screw it #📻 || zorina #yeaaaaaa the radio is nice for her #she has gone through many phases from her initial creation until now #storm.crush #just until she finally makes it off the list

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radreactions · 7 years ago

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Companions + Middle Earth

@saintlyguy was inspired to write the companions reactions to the Bright Lord! Err...should I say Blue Lord XD Enjoy! ***Minor Spoilers for Shadow of War*** Ada: Deathclaws, Rust Devils, and the occasional encounter with Mechanist robots were at the top of Ada’s list of Commonwealth threats. That was until the Super Mutants began painting themselves blue. She had no idea what got the green brutes to work together. One by one, the settlements her caravan visited fell under a blue flag. She was able to see their leader, The Blue Lord first hand when a defective Super Mutant attempted to raid her friends. After getting her legs ripped off, all Ada could do was watch; watch the Blue Lord singlehandedly (literally) break their mind. “ALL OF THE COMMONWEALTH WILL KNOW YOUR FAILURE!” Cait: Needing a break from the piss and trash of the Combat Zone, it was time for Cait to head out for a stroll. “Going to ‘work’?” asked Tommy. “You know it.” “Work” was Tommy’s analogy for a stroll. But for Cait, it was time to work out; pick a fight elsewhere. This time her stroll brought her to Trinity Tower unfortunately. At least for most folks. Before she could make a mad dash away from the Super Mutants, she was pulled into the dark by a green hand. “Oh fuck” This would have been the end, if not for a little influence from The Bard. “Shh, quiet human.” Cait was saved by a Super Mutant? This could be a trick, but one “friendly” mutant was better than the rest. “Why’d you save me...you...you Hulk?” “Mac Beth says Milk of Human Kindness makes Strong strong. Blue Lord explain kindness is milk. Strong is strong with kindness.” “Whatever keeps you straight... or...however mutants swing.” “We swing right to left with hammer.” As the awkward silence ensued, it got dark. Dark enough for Cait to sneak back to Tommy’s. “Hey big guy, the sun’s getting low. Can I go now?” “Brothers leaving, you leave too. Dark keep you safe. Strong keep you secret.” “Thanks.” “What the fuck was that?” Cait thought for the next week. It was game night at the Combat Zone, Cait had beaten all the challengers that had come to challenge her on the hopes of taking her title and a hefty payday; wannabes like Iron Fist, Killbane...hell this guy called Electricutioner came in with power fists hooked up to batteries and Cait knocked him out on the first swing. “Now it’s time for the main event!” announced Tommy. The door of the opponent began to open and Cait readied her bat. “I give you! Your Incredible...” RAAAAAAAAHHHHHH The same Super Mutant that saved Cait last week tore through the door and gave her a pleasant surprise. “YES!” This silenced the entire Combat Zone. “WE KNOW EACH OTHER! HE’S A FRIEND FROM ‘WORK’!” A friend who grabbed her by the neck and pinned her to the wall. “Oh come on" Cait croaked. Then the Hulk leaned in to whisper, "Stay low, brothers taking this place. Blue Lord wants you in their army." Codsworth: If anyone can find young Shaun, it was this Mr. Handy’s master. Well, he may become everyone’s master now that they have an army of... ewww... Super Mutants. Not to mention the occasional deathclaws and mirelurk queens they tame to ride into battle. They claim that this was all dedicated to finding Shaun. As much as Codsworth would like to believe them, this army... that ring... it’s a conquest. No. An invasion. Who in the right mind would feel safe with Super Mutants patrolling the roads and mounting heads on towers? This was something Codsworth couldn’t be apart of; something that made him defy his designated directive. With a heavy metal heart, he resigned. “Mum/Sir, I quit.” Curie: Upon being discovered by the residents of Vault 81, Curie was rejuvinated by new opportunity: to explore the Commonwealth and its vast secrets, societies, and species. The last part was an exciting anticipation... which became something to fear. Not only was the Commonwealth full of monsters like Deathclaws, Curie could never have predicted the imposing threat organized Super Mutants could pose. After attempting to observe in secret (which nearly led to her being torn apart) Curie felt she needed a new advantage; a human advantage. This inspiration came when she saw that the blue uniformed Super Mutants were led by a human. Their “Blue Lord.” Maybe if she experienced being human, she could understand how one person could dominate over a savage species. Curie would need to find someone who could make her human. Only then would she be able to begin to understand this “Blue Lord.” Danse: Cambridge was under siege by feral ghouls. Normally Danse would be able to handle mere ferals thanks to his power armor. However these ferals were not only overwhelming in numbers, but also organized? They came in through the alley ways, sewers, and chokepoints; making it difficult to focus fire. Ferals couldn’t have done this... They were positioned by someone! And that someone just pulled his fusion core. Danse was left a statue amongst the midst of ghouls, who halted at the command of “A Vault Dweller?” “QUIET FOR THE BLUE LORD!” A super mutanr roared as they dragged Haylen and Rhys out of the police station. The Paladin and his squad were shocked that their outpost was compromised by a single Vault Dweller; A Vault Dweller who had super mutants and ferals at their disposal. “So. How does the Brotherhood of Steel feel about being beaten by my Army of the Dead?” Deacon: “OH FUCK ME RIGHT IN THE ASSHOLE” is what Deacon would say if something threw off his wig. It’s also exactly what he said when Super Mutants raided Railroad HQ. Their organization and new blue war paint aren’t the only things that surprised him; what really made him take off his shades was the fact that a human, who was a freaking Vault Dweller leading them all. That explains the blue. Then a lightbulb flipped on. “If they were human, than they could be bargained with.” Deacon put on his smarmy grin and tried to convince the “Blue Lord” into a deal that would ensure he and the Railroad would walk away from this, maybe with some new friends. Big, green friends. “Listen here you little RATBAG, I’ve got enough spies in my army.” “But not human spies. Wanna hear what’s going on in Diamond City or Goodneighbor, I’m your guy! Wanna sneak some stuff throughout the Commonwealth, the Railroad’s your go to movers. Need to clear out a place you don’t want Super Mutants to destroy, we’ll send Glory; she’ll leave the foundations intact.” It would be nice to know what’s going on amongst the humans. Also it could lead to Shaun. “Ok, RATBAG. Deal. You can keep doing what you’re doing at my camps and under my supervision, so long as you feed me info. Doublecross me and I’ll feed you to my deathclaw.” “IS IT CALLED “FLUFFY?” “Their name is Smaug.” Dogmeat: Not much can make you care after you see your spouse get murdered and you child kidnapped. But you can still feel a sliver of something with a dog. It was unforeseen that the Blue Lord, leader of a super mutant army would adopt a dog. It took a while for Sole to convince their right hand, Strong that Dogmeat isn’t food. Eventually they would spot Strong feeding Dogmeat, petting him, or playing with him. He wouldn’t lay a finger on the dog if it meant hurting him. Then one day, the Blue Lord called out for their pup. “Dogmeat!” Strong came in bearing very unlikely and unfortunate news. “Oh dog is dead. Strong stomped on him while playing. Feel guilty. Carried him all day.” Just then Dogmeat sprang to life, relieving the Blue Lord and Strong. “Dog, you’re alive!” Facepalming, Sole gave Strong a stern warning: “If you actually kill Dogmeat, or even put him in harms way, I will mindfuck you like I did Bruz.” “What is fuck? How do you mind fuck?” Gage: Taking over a soda themed amusement park seems like a sound idea compared to taking over said soda themed amusement park with super mutants, deathclaws, feral ghouls, and gatorclaws. What’s even crazier was how only one person, who was a nobody Vault Dweller, have all these monsters under their thumb. All Gage knew, was that he wanted to be on the winning side when Nuka World’s rivers of Quantum, ran purple with the blood of the Disciples, Pack, Operators, and anyone else who squared up to this Blue Lord. So after Colter and his defences fell, Gage approached the Vaultie at the slim chance that they won’t sick a gatorclaw at him. Hancock: People in high places like MacDonough, the asshats who ended the world 200 years ago, and even himself are the ones Hancock despises the most in this world. The only person who could top this was the “Blue Lord.” At first he was impressed that they could lead an army of super mutants and not be eaten alive. He was more so uplifted when he heard that they were taking out the raiders and gunners. This streak of good impressions was derailed when he actually came face to face with their soldiers. If a mutie wasn’t loyal, they were broken and enslaved. Slavery of any kind doesn’t fly with Hancock, even of super mutants. Sure a majority of the time mutants are seen as a threat, but there are those who are civil and have even stayed in Goodneighbor. So he made it clear that the Blue Lord had no place in Goodneighbor, unbeknowest to him: making the town a target. Kellogg: “There was no way a Vault Dweller could survive the Commonwealth.” That’s what Kellogg thought until Fort Hagen was raided by super mutants, mirelurks, ferals, and a deathclaw. All under the control of the Vault Dweller. Normally he would have synths to back him up. But they turned on him, bringing him to his knees so that the Vault Dweller could get their cold and unforgiving hands on him. “WHERE IS SHAUN?!” Whatever they were doing to him, Kellogg’s entire life flashed before his eyes; all up until the last time he saw Shaun. Upon being released, Kellogg’s cybernetics all burst; leaving him brain dead; defenseless and unresponsive. He was a meal laid out for the Vault Dweller’s mutants, and all he could do is watch as the mutants and ferals ate away at him. Feeling every bite and tear, unable to scream. Longfellow: When a Vault Dweller comes to Far Harbor saying they wanna see the local fauna, makes you double take. The caps were good, so Longfellow took them around his hunting spots. But they weren’t there for skin. They were there for the animals and monsters. Anglers, gulpers, and fog ghouls came to do their bidding. “Did I drink some bad pisswater?” The Vault Dweller taming Far Harbor’s most dangerous creatures didn’t make Longfellow reach for his gun, since he really didn’t need to do any killing. Until they took Erikson’s dogs and brainwashed him into becoming their dog as well. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but I know that of all the things that crawl all over this island, you’re the most beastly of them all. ‘Cap’n.’” “That’s Blue Lord to you, old man.” MacCready: Gunners turning up dead. Nice. Super Mutants coming together. Not nice. Super mutants painting themselves blue. Weird. What was even weirder to MacCready was hearing about a Vault Dweller calling themselves the Blue Lord strut around the Commonwealth with and army of super mutants painted blue. It was like somthing out of an Unstoppables Comic. Kinda like that one story where that green monster guy got sent to another planet. As if the story couldn’t get any weirder, the Blue Lord just walked into the Third Rail. Maxson: After hearing about the fall of the Cambridge outpost, Maxson knew it was time to bring the calavary to the Commonwealth. What he didn’t know about was the army of blue clad super mutants waiting for him. His scouts reported a Vault Dweller called “The Blue Lord” commanding super mutants against raiders and helping them take down Vertibirds. “Time for the big guns.” It was time to FORM VOLTRO- no. We’re not doing that (yet). It was time to bring in Liberty Prime. What would have tipped the scale in favor of the Brotherhood, became the Blue Lord’s new toy. Maxson watched as the Vault Dweller commanded Prime to its knees, mount its shoulder, and command it to “OPEN FIRE!” at the Prydwyn. Nick: Getting kidnapped by Skinny Malone was a breeze compared to being stuck in his vault while it’s being raided by super mutants. What made Valentine choke on his cigarette smoke was that they were being swayed by a Vault Dweller. He got the pleasure of meeting them eye to eye when they arrived at the Overseer office. “Want a job?” they offered. “No thanks, I’m currently employed.” “Well let me make an offer you can’t refuse.” They commanded a mutant to punch trough the class and tear Valentine out from his former prison. The Vault Dweller then dug their hands into his face. All Nick could think of was who the hell was this person? What are they doing? Is this the end- SKKKKKKKKKKRRRRRRRRRRAT What can I do for them? How can I help them? “YOU ARE MINE.” They finalized as they let go. “Glad to be on the force.” Piper: This Lois Lane had only heard of the first Super Mutant attack on Diamond City and how the Minutemen had saved them. Now there aren’t any more Minutemen, but there sure are plenty of super mutants. Which was evident when there are like 10 behemoths knocking at the gates. Powerless against such a force, the citizens of Diamond City cowered and waited for the end. The end sounded like a hoard of mutants clashing. Piper held Nat and shut her eyes. The sound of “RUN AWAY!” made her pop up to see what had transpired. What a sight: the super mutants were hightailing out of there. What appeared to be their saviors, was more mutants? What engaged her into investigation mode was the blue war paint and the Vault Dweller leading standing among them. “THIS CITY NOW STANDS FOR THE BLUE LORD!” Preston: The definition of desperate would probably be asking a Vault Dweller leading an army of Super Mutants to reform the Minutemen. Preston was so desperate to keep his people safe and bring back the Minutemen. So what better way to not get eaten by super mutants and get a new general than allying with Sole? Although they preferred to be called Blue Lord, they had the numbers and a power unlike anything he had seen. The way they commanded even deathclaws made Mama Murphy consider going clean. What really made Preston shake was how they easily retook The Castle from the Mirelurks and slay an Mirelurk Queen. Even the way they address their army is scary. “THESE PESTS THAT HAVE ONCE INFESTED OUR NEW FORTRESS HAVE BEEN PUT TO THE SWORD AND ANY WHO OPPOSE US WILL SUFFER THE SAME FATE! NOW YOU HOLD THIS STRONGHOLD FOR THE BLUE LORD!” “and... the Minutemen...?” Preston added weakly. Strong: The anticipated rescue from Trinity Tower was sidelined by a takeover. A single Vault Dweller had made Fist and his followers kneel. This earned Strong’s respect, making him jump at joining this new leader. No brainwashing or shaming required. “Strong will be your shadow now, Blue Lord.” “That’s what Bruz said. Then he doublecrossed me and now he’s a husk. Learn from his mistake.” While the Blue Lord talked, Strong noticed a tasty meal on four legs by his new leader’s side. “Don’t even think about eating Dogmeat.” “But dog meat is meat! Eat meat!” X6-88: The courser had anticipated that the Institute would need to face its enemies; The Brotherhood, Minutemen, and Railroad. Never would he guess that it would be Father’s mother/father and their army of super mutants; the Institute’s own super mutants under the leadership of a once potential ally. While evacuating the scientists, the Gen 2 synths began to malfunction. SKIDIDPOWPOW “Reactivating. New directive: serve the Blue Lord” Then the synth gorillas broke out of containment and began devouring the scientists. Whatever the Blue Lord was using, defied any known science practiced within the Institute and would be it’s utter destruction.

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