#I’m not necessarily asking who would win I just want to see the carnage

[an-american-crisis]

someone should throw jedidiah aa martin, arthur lester, and jon sims in a ring together and see what happens

[hopelesshawks]

History of Us Part 12- Your Mother's Daughter

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Warning for canon typical violence

Masterlist Kofi

Bakugo’s text apology, believe it or not, was more eloquent than the one he offers in person but you appreciate the gesture and the brief hug he gives you when he realizes you’ve been crying. “It’s fine dumbass, you made it to the finals now just give it your all,” he huffs. Kirishima also pulls you into a hug, much longer than the one Bakugo had given you, and spends the whole time giving you a motivational speech about how incredibly cool and manly you are and how sure he is that you’ll do even better in the finals. You really are lucky to have the friends that you do. Especially since you anticipate the crowd is about to sour towards you.

All too quickly it’s time to return to the stadium where Principle Nezu is waiting on a raised platform with a box filled with slips of paper with bracket placements on them. The energy in the stadium is electric as the crowd anxiously waits to see what the bracket will be. It’s different than with the first years, where everyone’s an unknown. The crowd recognizes most of the names now from news reports and hero rescues. Dyed hair could only hide you for so long. “We will now call up the finalists one at a time to draw lots for the bracket!” Nezu announces. One by one you hear others around you getting called up. Bakugo, Midoriya, Shoto, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, Denki, Sero, Hitoshi Shinso, Neito Monoma, Tokoyami, Iida, Uraraka, Jiro, Ibara Shiozaki and Itsuka Kendo all get called to roaring cheers and applause. That’s 15 names. The little fucking rodent had left you for last. Probably likes the idea of the dramatic reveal. “And last but not least, our 16th finalist (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Nezu calls and it’s like the air is sucked from the room as the crowd gets quiet and then starts murmuring to themselves. You keep your head held high as you walk to the stage even as you notice some of your classmates staring at you and the members of class b whispering. You take the last remaining lot with your head held high, throwing a wink at a nearby camera to further show them their displeasure won’t deter you.

You feel the stares of your classmates as you walk back down the stage. It’s them you really care about in all honesty. 3A had been nothing but kind to you since your arrival and it would hurt a little for their friendship to sour (you’re definitely not thinking about someone in particular at that statement) but before anyone can say anything Bakugo and Kirishima are standing next to you protectively. Kirishima links his arm through yours. “Come on, let’s head to the stands while we wait for them to start the first match,” Kiri grins at you. You give him a grateful smile and are pleasantly surprised when the rest of class a seems to fall in line behind you. None of them look at you any differently, there’s no shift in the atmosphere or added tension. Even as you can feel the glares of the crowd on your back, your new friends shield you from it until you’re in the safety of the tunnel and heading up to the stands.

“You and (y/n) stopped talking about 10 years ago right?” Midoriya asks Shoto as they walk at the back of the pack of class A students. “Yes,” Shoto confirms. “So that’s about when Black Storm was-“ “Yes.” “So Endeavor made you stop talking to her so you wouldn’t be associated with Black Storm.” “Basically.” “Jesus.” Midoriya places a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder. Shoto briefly acknowledges the gesture but says nothing as everyone settles into their seats. Nezu then begins to explain the rules of the last game. It’s essentially a wrestling match, the whole stadium is fair game and you win if you can pin your opponent for five seconds or completely immobilize them. Injuries are fine but take it too far and Eraserhead and Cementoss will shut it down. You nod along as the bracket is projected onto the monitors. Your first round is with the Neito Monoma kid, you don’t know much about him, just that the mere mention of his name has Bakugo growling “You better beat that fucking extra.” “Like I’d get eliminated in the first round,” you scoff back, confidence starting to build again as your classmates continue to support you.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see a guy with a large shock of purple hair and bags for days under his eyes leaning down to wave at you. You hear Denki yelp and nearly fall out of his chair nearby but ignore it. “(Y/l/n) huh?” he asks, a slight smile. “Yea. Problem with that?” you ask. “Not at all. Villain quirks gotta stick together right?” he smirks as he offers his hand. “I’m only half villain quirk but sure,” you smirk but then you freeze, eyes glazing over before you can reach to take his hand. He smirks back at you as your hand moves to shake his without your permission. You find yourself reaching for your phone, it unlocking once it recognizes your face, and then going to your contacts before plugging in a new number. You snap back to awareness a little stunned, looking between the new contact in your phone and the baffling boy with the mind control quirk who’s currently walking away. “If you wanted my number you could’ve just asked like a normal person!” you call after him. Unbeknownst to you, Shoto watches the entire interaction with barely concealed jealousy.

It’s not long before it’s finally time for your first match. The others had briefed you on Monoma’s quirk, warning you about his copying ability. “Can he copy a quirk if he doesn’t know you have it?” you ask curiously. “I don’t know actually. Most people don’t have two quirks you know, although I don’t necessarily see how it would help?” Kirishima offers with a shrug, having already made it through his first round and into the table of 8. “Trust me, I have a game plan,” you assure him. “See you guys on the other side,” you tell him as you walk down to the tunnel to wait for them to announce your entrance. “And on our left, here she comes. Ready to blaze her own trail and show the whole world that she is more than her name, it’s (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Present Mic’s voice booms over the loud speaker as you walk into the stadium properly. The crowd boos and you must admit it stings a little but you aren’t entirely unaccustomed to the negative attention. Your eyes wander over to the section where your friends are. Bakugo gives you a nod as Denki, Sero, Kirishima, Mina, and Jiro scream and cheer for you, their bodies half over the railing. They can’t drown out the rest of the stadium but they’re trying to and that warms your heart. You grin at them before locking eyes back on your opponent, stepping up to the start point they’ve indicated. “START!” Present Mic’s voice booms and immediately you lunge forward, drawing shadows into your palm before pushing them forward to race towards Monoma.

You’re not shocked when Monoma counters with shadows of his own, knocking yours away, but you can’t help but grin when you notice he’s producing shadows from both of his palms instead of just one. “I should’ve recognized you had Daddy’s quirk the minute I saw you during the qualifying rounds,” Monoma needles and you know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you but you can’t help how your temper starts to flare. He may be using your quirk but he’s clumsier with it, the result of picking it up for the first time now versus your years and years of experience. You send forward another burst of shadows making sure to get your left hand caught in the blast so it looks like both are doing the work. As Monoma clumsily sends forward his own to redirect yours you close the distance in, sweeping his legs out from underneath him. He quickly rolls before you can try to pin him down and you just barely manage to dodge the kick he’d aimed at you in retaliation. “You were there weren’t you? The day your father went rogue,” he taunts. You suck in a harsh breath allowing him an opportunity to lash out at you again and you wince a little at the sharp sting it leaves on your cheek where he’d managed to cut you with your own quirk. Your first instinct is to heal it but you hold off. Not yet. It’s not time to reveal your hand yet. “How the fuck do you know that?” you grit out before lashing out at him harder and faster. He extends both palms out, shadows flying forward to counter your own and as his hands retract you can see black crawling up his arms. Good. Your plan is working. “Oh the little daddy daughter field trip was all over the news sweetheart, we all know you were there to watch the carnage. Why do you think no one trusts you?” Monoma taunts. He fires off both palms again but this time instead of dispersing the shadows you raise both your hands, again feigning that both are doing the work, you push back against his, the shadowy energy growing and growing as you’re both slowly pushed backwards by the force of it. You hold strong though even as more and more black veins crawl up your right arm and your forearm begins to burn with the pain. You can hear Monoma grunting in pain on the other side so you kick it up a notch, fighting through your own pain until finally he breaks. He releases with a gasp, hunching forward with the pain. He looks up expecting to see you in a similar state but instead he finds you glowing as you stride towards him, the black veins rapidly fading as the light you radiate chases them back. Once you're in front of him he barely has any time to react before you deck him across the face, knocking him to the ground. You put one foot on his chest to keep him down, increasing the strength of your healing quirk just so that you’ll glow a little more brightly as you lean down to look him directly in the eye. “I may be my father’s daughter,” you start as the monitor counts down five seconds, “but I’m also my mother’s.”

The countdown finishes and an airhorn blares to signal your victory. You turn away from him, leaving him gaping at you like a fish on the ground as you walk back to the tunnel. The booing of the crowd that follows you out is music to your ears.

As far as you’re concerned? They can die mad about it.

A/N: Ngl I made Shinso so smooth in this one I was like alternate route? 💀 But n o lmao this is Shoto’s fic. OH ALSO we got even more about what happened when (y/n) was 8! I love mixing in her lore, I've actually had the very basic idea for her backstory and potentially where I’m going to take this fic after the sports festival arc since when I first started watching the show. The fight with Monoma in particular has been plotted out literally since I watched the final exam arc I think back when I was primarily a Todoroki simp oop so it's been really fun for me to get to write it here considering I never thought it would be a concept that left my head.

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso @sunaispretty @mindofess @todoplusultra @oliviasslut

[iamtheotherdarkknight]

Make Right (BruDick RP)

In Response to “It’s Killing Him” 

@notyouraveragedickgrayson

If Bruce had to choose a moment when things really started to fall apart, he’d say was the day he pulled Jason’s still, broken body from the rubble of that abandoned warehouse. That surreal, numbness lifting as Bruce peeled away Jason’s mask to see his face for the last time.

That’s when the pain really hit him.

It was just like watching his mother and father bleed out in an alley - except it hurt so much worse. Maybe it was because parents aren’t supposed to outlive their children… And blood or no blood, Jason was his first child.

Watching strangers lower his boy – his son – into the ground that day is what finally broke him. By the end of the funeral service, it was just him and Alfred. Like it’s always been. And perhaps that has been Bruce’s mistake – maybe this is the way things were supposed to be. Maybe this cruel act was the universe’s way of reminding him of his place. It didn’t matter how long he trained, how much he learned or how many resources he devoted to his mission, he had to walk this path in solitude. ‘… or else…’

That night, Bruce stopped fighting the darkness - the Batman consumed him.

The carnage that followed Jason’s death couldn’t be called justice. Just needless bloodshed that falling short of killing. Violence that knew no shame. Batman wanted the Joker and he didn’t care what he had to do to get him. Batman had to make him hurt the way Bruce hurt. Torture him the way he tortured Jason. And the darkness only crept in further the longer Joker hid. There was nothing left to separate Bruce from the Bat anymore, no anchor. Just all-encompassing rage and an empty pain he prayed never went away. He needed that ache more than he needed food or air; it was the only thing getting him out of bed anymore.

Bruce couldn’t blame Dick for staying away. He deserved better than an emotionally crippled, hypocrite. How could he dare hold Dick accountable for his actions towards Zucco? Bruce knew full well what would happen when he finally found Joker. Arkham wasn’t enough. Blackgate wasn’t enough. Bruce knew that, and still couldn’t stop himself. That was until a young Timothy Jackson Drake appeared at his door, venti Americano in one hand and a tablet with a litany of evidence of Bruce’s double life in the other. More than that, the kid deduced Dick and Jason’s identities as Robins.

It was strange. All the information the young man had amassed over what had to be years – the eerily familiar singlemindedness Tim displayed in his pursuit. And all he wanted to do with it was convince Dick to become Robin again. “Because Gotham needs Batman. And Batman needs Robin.” The words rolled off the boys’ lips like an obvious truth he repeated one to many times. Like all whole world’s issues were nothing more than an uncomplicated problem to be solved over a cup of coffee and a few strokes of the keys.

A petty part of Bruce expected Tim to fall apart after failing to reunite the ‘Dynamic Duo’, Nightwing making it clear that he could never take the Robin mantle again. Imagine the Wayne’s rare look of shock when Tim came down the stairs of the cave, fully fitted in an altered Robin’s uniform. And when Bruce tried to protest, Tim simply shrugged it off and told him it was Nightwing who suggested he take the uniform. Tim would just have to do until Bruce found an adequate replacement… And if he resisted Tim’s help, he’d blow Bruce’s cover right out of the water.

It’s been years since that fateful day. Bruce would have loved to say that in that, he’s gotten better over time. That he had found a way to overcome the wounded savagery that overwhelmed him. That he didn’t slip back into those dark moods and was learning to be whole after having his heart picked apart, racked with guilt, shame and fear he concealed in anger. But that would be a blatant lie and nights like this he just didn’t care enough to keep up the front.

Tonight’s patrol had been taxing for the Bats.

The night ended early with the successful sabotage of Black Mask’s weapon shipment, but the win didn’t come without a fight. Batman had no idea where Sionis found the revenue to hire the mercs he had, but there was no way the people he and Robin encountered on that freight were anything ex-military. If it weren’t for his own decades of experience and Red Robin’s help tonight, the mission would have failed.

Damien left the fight with a concussion, Bruce ordering the boy go upstairs and rest. Tim, per usual, proved more resistant to his first dismissal, but his cracked ribs and broken arm and leg won out in the end. Between that and the three days Tim spent without sleep, operating the Bat near impossible. Not at Bruce was fairing much better. By the time they returned to the cave, the man sported several burns, bruises, and gashes from the explosion. The only way Alfred could get Bruce that stay still long enough to clean and dress the wounds when Bruce was sitting at the computer, typing up the reports for tonight. That was when Bruce saw the comm flash on his screen. The call came from Dick’s encrypted number.

… But he could feel ice in his veins when he heard the voice on the call.

“It’s me.”

And Bruce knew that voice anywhere.

It was a sad fact, but because couldn’t bring himself to open-up to Tim or Damien the way he had with Jason. Bruce had let his guard down with the young man and let himself be a father to him – something he could never bare to be to Dick. He could never presume to fill the void John Grayson left in Dick’s heart when he passed. Seeing Jason grow as an individual and Robin, principled and proud in the face of adversity. It always filled Bruce with pride… Perhaps that’s why seeing Red Hood stand over a fresh corpse, baring the face long dead son left him numb. Seeing that viciousness in Jason, felt like a cruel sick joke. Bruce’s only solace in Jason death was knowing the boy he cared for so much left this world with cleaner hands then him. But seeing Jason returned from the dead to become what felt like a reflection of Bruce’s darkest hours.

I was like he failed to save him all over again.

“Where is he?” Bruce demanded, his voice low and fierce. The logical part of his brain knew better than to think Jason would hurt Dick. In fact, the only person Red Hood hadn’t reconciled with was Batman. But Bruce didn’t always think rationally when it can to his first ward. Jason knew that better than anyone….

“With me and doesn’t wanna talk.” He clarified, adjust his hold Dick’s shaking form. “I’m calling a truce, old man. Let us in.” There was the briefest pause before Bruce overrode the security protocols and allow Jason to enter the cave. Bruce didn’t know could have happen to have Jason, of all people, to knock on his door and call for a truce, but he would be prepared it all the same. In the five minutes in took Jason to traverse the tunnels to central area, Bruce had covered his injuries and erased at trace of weakness. Not that it mattered once Jason ascended the steps to his platform.

Bruce’s stoic façade fell apart the minute his eyes came upon a harrowed Dick, bundled up in Jason’s arms. It’d been months since the he last saw his former ward – the two of them not necessarily on speaking terms. In fact, he and Dick had been on the outs ever since Bruce budded in a case in in Blüdhaven, stating under no uncertain terms what he thought of his ‘partner’, Catalina Flores. The actively avoided one another ever since.

Before Bruce could demand an explanation, Jason locked his green-blue eyes with his silently warning. It was always amazing how the two of them could communicate with out uttering a single word. It was part of the reason they worked so well together. So, when Jason eyes narrowed and gestured past Bruce, the man stepped aside and waited for him on the other side of the room. Once Jason was finished propping Dick in the same chair Bruce had occupied before their arrival. Despite Jason’s best effort, Dick still slumped over the edge like a ragdoll. And he was coming apart at the seams. It’s all Bruce can do, his brain running through every possible scenario, trying to deduce a reason for Dick’s state. Jason could come to him soon enough.

“He a panic attack.” Jason finally explained, his pulling a cigarette out of his pocket, but not reaching for his zippo yet. A nervous tick, just wanting something to chew on while he organized his thoughts.

“…What triggered it?” His mentor asked cautiously, trying to understand. His former ward had attack in the past. Bruce would care for Dick through the worse of them in the beginning, whenever the boy would have a nightmare or close call. But this was the first he’s ever seen the Dick since he became an adult. He was practically catatonic.

“You.” Jason spat out, as if to apply it was obvious. “Like it or not, all of this,” Jason gestured toward Dick. “Is on you.”

Without give Bruce an inch, Jason unloaded, recounting all that Dick confided in him. The young man’s mental health was in shambles and Bruce, whether he realized it or not, had only made it worse pushing Dick away. Especially when Bruce fired Dick. The older man had to admit, he was blinded with anger the night he fired Dick and all but kicked him out of the manor. Anger, and if he were being totally honest, fear. Fear of the unknown as Dick grew into the man, he was becoming, fear for the way he was started to see Dick. Because in all the years he raised Dick, he couldn’t see him as a son. And that terrified him to the core. Bruce had only realized the terrible mistake he made when the heard the Dick pulling out of the driveway for the last time.

And then Jason and the bomb happened…

“Pull your head out of your ass, old man. Your hot-and-cold attitude might work for the ladies, but that man behind me, feels fucked up enough about wanting you without your mile-thick wall of bullshit. And I know you heard me. Now, something has to change because I am not kidding around when I say that this situation, this denial, whatever ego or pride is in the way of you two... its killing him”.

Bruce was at a loss. Looking at Dick again, he felt a surge guilt run through him. Was it his fault that Dick developed this infatuation with him? Did he somehow poison the younger man’s mind and manipulated him -

“Stop, I know what you’re thinking old man. Stop making this about you and just make this right. If either of you were as sick as you think, you won’t be so scared of this.” Jason hissed, making his way to the stairs from where he came. “He’s in your care. Make it right, Bruce.” Jason repeated, warning the older man.

Bruce waited until he couldn’t hear Jason’s footsteps, steeling himself before approaching Dick for the first time in so long. He looked so out of it. Depressed and tired and just… gone. Bruce would have given anything wrap his arm around him like he had back when his thoughts towards Dick were innocent. But right now, it wasn’t about what Bruce wanted. It was about what Dick needed.  So he knelt down on the ground before Dick so they were at eye level. Dicks eyes were downcast, but Bruce didn’t make a thing of it. Just spoke in the clearest voice he could manage, hoping that Dick would respond to him.

“Dick. Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?”

[sumikoco06-blog]

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[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KYLIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of BENVOLIO. Admin Julie: If I could, I’d wax poetry over the intricacies that came from reading your application for Bellamy. From the inherent bravery that comes from being kind in a world that eats kindness whole, to having to learn how to survive in that sort of environment, you’ve enraptured us with Bellamy’s conflict and narrative. Your writing sample captured an emotion note often seen in Verona: panic, terror, and worse, acceptance. The seven stages of grief, compounded into one man? It’s awe-inspiring and heartbreaking on one. We cannot wait to see where you’ll take him.  Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kylie

Age | 25

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | 5-6, the holidays have been a busy time for me, but now that they are coming to a close my activity should only go up.

Timezone | mst

Triggers | already listed!

How did you find the rp?  | I am a member who loves it dearly.

Current/Past RP Accounts | @ronanivarsson @nickborisov

IN CHARACTER

Character | Bellamy Santo-Domingo, Benvolio

What drew you to this character? |

I was drawn to Bellamy because I was thinking about the idea of heroism in Verona, and came to the conclusion that he must surely be the closest thing that Verona has to a real “hero” or heroic figure–what could possibly be more admirable than advocating for peace in a city where it is universally acknowledged that peace, that goodness, cannot thrive? I began comparing him to classical heroes like Aneas, who was divinely tasked with building a new city from the ashes of an old one, who was able to maintain his epithet of pious even as his city burned and the blood of his people was spilled. Because of his relationships with Marcelo and with Roman, both Achilles figures in their own right, I compared him to Patroclus–in the same way that Patroclus put on the armor of Achilles and went out to fight the Trojans, Bellamy has learned to put on the same armor that Roman and Marcelo wear in order to better protect them.

These comparisons have merit–but I think it would be a mistake to allow Bellamy to be so easily defined. I think a lot of contradictions exist within him–his banner is peace, he has cried and cried for it until he has lost his voice, but I think he also holds a lot of anger in his heart. He is angry that he seems to be the only one who can see where all of the destruction will lead, he is angry that the people he loves are so willing to gamble with their lives, he is angry at the fact that none of this is what he would have chosen for himself. I also think he is both very self sacrificing, as all heroes must be, but also very selfish. He would willingly give his life for Marcelo or Roman, or if he thought his death would mean something in terms of bringing peace to Verona–but at the same time, I think he would also willingly leave it all and go back to wandering, to make that choice for himself and shed the uniform the Montagues handed to him and ordered him into.

I also just enjoyed all the potential that exists within him–what is the difference between the person he would like to be, the person that he sees himself as, and the person he has to be in order to survive in Verona? He is an Atlas, bearing the weight of an entire city on his shoulders, but surely even Atlas cried out in pain, began to curse the gods at some point? How much blood must he shed in his quest for peace? Will there come a point where he has to turn his back on the people that he loves, on the lives that they lead?

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

DEATH DOESN’T DISCRIMINATE BETWEEN THE SINNERS AND THE SAINTS | I’m very interested in Bellamy’s relationship with the violence of the Montagues–he is a character that is defined by his goodness, by his desire for peace over violence, but I don’t think that makes him a soft character necessarily. I would love to investigate how far both he and his convictions could be pushed, where his point of no-return might be. Would he kill for them? Would he be willing to torture someone? If he is willing, how does he justify it in his mind? Is it a case of some blood being necessary in the quest to bring peace to Verona? How would he handle it if Roman or Marcelo specifically asked him to commit an act of violence in their name? Is there a point where he would consider himself too far gone, too far lost, too much of a sinner?  

IF THERE’S A REASON I’M STILL ALIVE | One of the things that really interests me is the relationships that Bellamy has with Roman and Marcelo. He came back to Verona because his mother asked, because he felt a sense of familial obligation, yes—but he also came back because he was worried about his brothers. They are the reason he stays, the reason he wants peace in this city—he wants to see them grow old, see them have faith in something other than the blood. I would love to investigate how far he’s willing to go for them, what kind of situations does he have to bail them out of? Would there ever come a point where he would decide that he’s more dedicated to his cause than to the two of them? Is there any resentment between them because of Bellamy’s dedication to peace, to opposing the organization that brought the three of them together?

THERE ARE THINGS THAT THE HOMILIES AND HYMNS WON’T TEACH YOU | I’m very interested in Bellamy’s job as a police officer, especially since it isn’t a job that he picked for himself—I was very interested in the phrasing in his biography, in the use of the word “posing” when talking about his position as a law enforcement officer. Does he feel like he’s wearing a costume, when he wears that uniform? How dedicated is he to the work? He wants to help people, but can he balance that with doing the bidding of the Montagues? What would he have chosen for himself instead? How does he interact with the other officers who are Capulets?

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes, if his death really meant something–but I’m also kind of attached to him suffering the same fate as his namesake, of being the only one left alive with the carnage of the very thing he had fought so hard to prevent.

IN DEPTH

He drops his keys three times before he manages to stop his hands from shaking. It takes another three attempts before he’s able to unlock the door to his apartment, three heavy footed and stumbling steps before he is inside and able to collapse his weight against the wall of the entryway, before he is able to slide to the floor and hide his face behind his hands without the fear of being seen.

Because if anyone saw him right now, there would surely be more questions about Bellamy Santo-Domingo, more doubts about the soft hearted boy who surely doesn’t have the same stomach for blood, the same singular eye fixed on his own divinely appointed destiny, that his friends have. He’s certain that’s why Damiano had asked it of him, had filtered it down through Pandora who had said it as though it was just another task, another meaningless item to be efficiently checked off a list. If Bellamy could kill some no-name dealer who thought himself brave enough to sell on Don Montague’s territory, then there could be no more questioning his loyalty—to his family and to the Montagues as a whole. He would finally be equal to Roman, to Marcelo—an unquestioned part of the future that the two of them would build.

And he had almost done it, hadn’t he? He’d had the man dead to rights in the darkness of an abandoned warehouse, had the cold steel of his standard issue pistol pressed against the man’s temple–he’d even allowed him to say one last prayer to his God, though the words had been half choked out through sobs, and had fallen on ears both unqualified and unworthy to hear them. All that remained was to pull the trigger, to force his fingers into applying the specific amount of pressure that would end the man’s life.

His hands had been suprisingly steady then, the muscles of his jaw had been clenched but unwavering, his eyes had been cold and unfeeling–the very model of a soldato, someone that Damiano Montague could have been proud to call family, something like a son. He could have done it, he could have left the man to bleed out onto the cement and dedicated himself to finding the bottom of as many bottles as it took to render the memory of it nothing but haze and the aftertaste of copper. He would have been fine, in the same way that everyone in Verona is only ever fine–in the same way that anyone who has ever taken another life can never be good again.

In that moment, Bellamy Santo-Domingo made the radical decision to be something other than fine for the rest of his life. He lowered the gun.

He told the man to get out of Verona, that the next person who came for him would not be in possession of the same kindness.

It was then that his hands had started shaking.

Bellamy was certain that Damiano had meant the whole excersise as a test of his loyalty, to the Montague cause, to the actions that would be nessecary if they were going to win the war he was waging against Cosimo Capulet. He had meant to see if Bellamy could be hardened, if the soul of the poet could be worn away by a continually crashing sea of blood and made into a new and more useful shape. It was why he had merely nodded when Pandora had issued the command, instead of challenging her as he normally did. He had wanted answers to the same questions, and tonight he had received them.

On the floor of his apartment, Bellamy Santo-Domingo sobs into his hands. He sobs in a way that is anthetical to the very foundations that Verona is built on–he sobs unashamedly, as a howling prayer of thanks to God, not because he is overcome with tragedy. He sobs because the heart that beats inside of his chest, that stubbornly hopes and cries for something better for the people that he loves, is not so easily vanquished. He sobs because above all else, in spite of the war raging outside of his window, he has remained loyal to that hope, to the idea that peace is possible. He knows the metric by which he will be measured now, and it is not the number of lives that he takes in the name of Montague, it is not the amount of cruelty that he inflicts–it will be the number of lives that he saves, the world that he builds for the people that he loves.

There is no blood to wash off of his hands, to stain the porcelain of the bathroom sink rust colored for weeks on end. There is only sleep to be had, a new day to be lived beginning to be visible over the horizion. There is a war to be waged, and he will need the rest if he is to continue to stand between the two sides underneath his own banner, if his voice and the strength of his words is to fly between bullets and knife blades until both can be set down. He wipes at his eyes and gets to his feet, and Bellamy Santo-Domingo laughs. He cannot wait to begin.

Extras: pinterest board x

[coldtomyflash]

How would the Rogues react to a 14 y/o superhero? What about Team Flash? (I need this for a fic)

Hard to say?

I feel like it depends on a ton of factors, including at “which” point of the Rogues’ arc we’re talking about, which Rogues in particular, and the conditions under which they meet the 14 year old? Not to mention how quickly they can figure out this superhero is just a kid (it might be obvious, but depending on costume, it also might not?). It also massively depends, I think, on how big of a serious threat this kid is.

Let’s lay out a couple scenarios. For all of these (unless stated otherwise), I’m gonna assume we’re talking about Len, Mick, and Lisa, and approximately S2 of the Flash in terms of their narrative arcs.

So, let’s say the Rogues are robbing a casino. They know the Flash is busy elsewhere (they orchestrated it to be that way) so they’re taking their time and having fun. But then another hero shows up. That’s also fun, if of a different kind. So first reactions are to shoot and see what this hero can do, plan still in full effect except - is that a kid? 

Rogues halt. That’s a kid. And it’s - apparent. Obvious. It’s hilarious. Except also annoying. Len doesn’t want to kill a kid. Lisa looks to him and waits. Mick is probably... ready to roast the kid anyway. I assume the superhero has some power that’s going to help them fight off Mick, while Len is presumably appraising the superhero’s power, but I’m also assuming that this hero isn’t that trained and hasn’t mastered all that much yet and screws up. Len would call Mick off from killing the kid, if that became a serious danger. Priority is getting out and leaving the nuisance behind. possibly, if needed, leaving the kid tied up with a sign to the cheeky effect of “delivery for the flash” (because dealing with kid superheroes should be his job and this brat shouldn’t be left alone to track them down, what the hell flash?).

In that scenario, their general reaction is “this is annoying and frustrating, mostly because I can’t actually go full tilt against a kid. we’ve got a deal with the flash not to kill innocent people and really, i don’t actually want to kill a kid, even one who’s dumb enough to put on a super suit and chase us down. that kid’s a pain in my ass though, and if it stays that way, i am most definitely going to teach them a lesson.”

After that - everything else depends on the 14 year old’s personality. 

In another scenario, let’s say these Rogues meet the kid with The Flash and co. So they’re going full tilt in a fight against the Flash at some similar heist but now there’s a young, teenage sidekick there. We’ve seen this happen in the comics, more or less. The Rogues do accidentally kill a kid (Bart) at one point, it’s a whole thing. Which is part of why I think if they can tell it’s a kid, they’re not actually going to go full-tilt against them. At least not unless the kid is relatively safe or they get more used to the kid’s presence and skill level? Not that they’ll let themselves get caught worrying about the kid, or that they wouldn’t necessarily injure the child, but you get it.

I think, on the face of it, in both of these (and most) situations, Len would play cool about it and pretend he’s not going easier on the 14 year old just because they’re a kid, and pretend he doesn’t care. But I do feel like the Len we know would also be curious. Not curious enough to ask, but he’d make some assumptions and put together information. He’s got to stay informed about all heroes in the city after all. And I don’t think he’d be above scaring the kid with a threat or two.

Which kind of brings me to scenario 3 - the kid is actually a serious threat to the Rogues. If the Rogues unexpectedly find themselves in a serious battle (I mean like, one they can’t get out of and can’t win without some carnage) with someone who has a ton of power and knows how to use it, regardless of the (teen)age of that person, I don’t think they’re going to hesitate. If the 14 year old has enough power to seriously do damage, or too much power to control, they might not like seriously harming or killing the kid, but they’d be willing to do it. I don’t really see any of them waiting to pull the trigger if they seriously felt like it was the hero or one of them.

And even if that’s not quite the case, and they do get away but the kid looks like it’s going to be a problem in any of these scenarios, it’s not impossible that Len would make it his business to find out this hero’s name and threaten them / their family or something similar. Depending on the threat level of the superhero in question, he might be more tongue-in-cheek about it vs. more terrifying, and the level of threat woudl be different too (and what he’d actually threaten would also depend on a lot of factors in the narrative).

So just - 

That’s only 3 scenarios, all of which have a lot of flat baseline assumptions. I think you need to think through your context and the situation for how the Rogues come in contact with this teen hero and the tone of the fic you’re going for as well, because there’s too many variables here for there to be a clearcut answer. 

As for team Flash, that answer is another dozen variables and honestly I can’t imagine providing close to a cogent answer without a ton more details about when and how team Flash encounters this teen, which members are on the team and their relationship to new superhero, the teen’s powers, etc etc. 

I think again - it depends on what kind of story you want to write? If you’re still in the early stages, I’d suggest trying to find a friend or beta to talk some of this out with and figure out how you want things to go, because you can manipulate these situation factors to push the story in that direction?

[idkrogertaylor]

Just a Business Meeting (John Deacon x Reader)

A/N: Hello! This definitely was not meant to be posted as this concept of older/dominate John Deacon kind of started between some friends and I but then I was kind of liking the idea and though the tumblr world might too? It’s been a LONG time since I ever wrote anything and this is my first “fic” type thing from the 2nd person POV so I hope it’s okay. I have some other ideas I might post but for now, enjoy!

Every weekday was another meeting, business lunch or business dinner with your boss without any true work. You were required to attend and remember anything memorable or worth your time or future expertise. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you took up the position as an assistant to gain some experience as you get yourself through graduate school. The job paid the student loans and helped with the experience needed to branch up and work as an official tax laywer, but for now you were interning at a regular law firm and getting to know the ins and outs. It wasn’t all so bad however. There was also that thing with your boss that took up your weekends and some nights during the week. You were...getting close with you boss. No, you were fucking your boss. But you didn’t mind, you weren’t looking for anything serious as it wasn't the best time in your life, and your boss, Mr. Deacon, was definitely worth your time and you liked to think you were worth his. He was at least twenty your senior but goodness did he treat you better than any man your age ever would. You spent every weekend at his place, your normal weekend schedule with him was always leave at 5 PM on Friday, meet him at his place at 6 PM, usually go out to dinner around that time, come back and then it was time to do your homework. The things he’d show you and have you do is beyond comprehensible words but goodness did they make you feel good, he knew exactly what he was doing and you were more than eager to learn.

It was mid afternoon on a Friday and you were finishing up filing some forms when suddenly you felt a hand on your waist and a whisper in your ear coming from behind.

“Meet me in my office in 5 minutes, and lock the door behind you” The hungry voice said. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You nodded and smirked to yourself. You felt a quick kiss on the back of your head and the presence was gone. You finished filing the forms and knocked on Mr. Deacon’s door alerting him of your presence.

“Come in, and lock the door” he reminded you. He was sitting on the edge of his desk as you walked in and locked the door. You walked over to him and stood in front of him, with your back straight and shoulders relaxed. “Look at you, following what i said. such a good girl” He smirked as he pulled you closer to him by your waist. You bit your lip and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Only doing what I was told. However if you wanted some afternoon carnage I do live close by” you said sarcastically and a chuckle escaped his throat.

“Oh pet, if I wanted an afternoon delight you would know it. Unfortunately for you, we have to push tonight’s...activities back a few hours. There was a last minute staff meeting and I require your assistance tonight.” He told you as he rubbed circles into your hip with his thumb. You nodded in understanding.

“What time is it and where? i’ll just need to run to my place and grab a change of clothing.”

“5:30 and it’s at Penna Vera’s, so dress appropriately” he winked and released you. “Oh and pet, make sure you stick close by me. So when the timing is right we can sneak away and start our weekly...ritual. and call me John, it’s high time you started” he kissed you quickly and pinched your waist and released you. You walked out of his office and walked to your desk sitting down quickly, feeling flushed from just imaging what just happened and what tonight will entail. He barely touched you and you were already feeling dizzy. You still don’t understand how you can handle his intensity. John is everything anyone could ever want in a lover and a man. Intense, passionate, rough or slow, patient. He’s introduced you to many new things and ideas and you can’t imagine not using them on him and in the future. You sometimes take him by surprise when you ask for something that he introduced to you a few weeks ago. Like last week, you, as he had phrased it, “innocently requested your hands be tied up” by the tie he wore to dinner that night. By the time you snapped out of your thoughts, you realised how fast the day had gone and that it was time for you to run home and change into something more business appropriate. You gathered your things and skipped off to the car and drove to your place, excitedly thinking of the idea that popped into your head.

As you drove to Penna Vera’s, you parked close to the entrance and walked in, looking for John as he was the main reason you were there to begin with. You looked around and spotted him near the long bar in the back, so feeling a bit brave, you walked to the other side of the bar, not to far from him but not close enough to be on or next to him him, although that’s exactly what you’d love to be doing.

“One gin and tonic please” you told the bartender, leaning over the bar slightly. as you sat down on the bar stool, the previously unoccupied seat now had an occupant.

“Deciding to drink are we..?” the occupant said and you smirked.

“Why yes Mr. Deacon i am, the meeting hasn’t started and it’s been such a long day at work, i need to...unwind...” you drawled out the last word and crossed your legs on the stool as you took a sip from your newly made drink. John chuckled and looked at you up and down.

“Nice color dress, the blush color really suits you...and I do approve of the length..” he said in a low voice looking down at your crossed legs, the dress stopped above the knee but wasn’t unprofessionally short but teased in just the right way. Teased him in just the right way.

“Why thank you sir...I do remember you mentioning it’s a color that satisfies your tastes?” you looked at him and cocked your head to the side slightly. He chuckled and nodded.

“Indeed pet...come there’s people arriving and if they see my assistant having too much fun by herself there will be questions” he said as he hopped off the stool and offered his arm. You smiled and grabbed your purse and took it, walking over to the associates that you knew and have talked to from previous meetings.

As the night got on and you worked your way through the crowd of people, you finally made your way over to the table and get settled for dinner. Of course when you sat down, John wasn’t too far behind and slid into the seat next to you. He put his arm on the chair behind you and leaned in to whisper something.

“You’d think i’d let you get away that easily? All while going around in that dress?” you smirked to yourself hearing that.

“Didn’t know you were chasing me...should I be worried?” you winked.

“Oh princess I’m always going to be chasing you, you’re too easy to be caught.” he replied at sat back in his chair, bringing his arm back to his side.

“Yeah? Guess we’ll see about that” you challenged and winked and you picked up the menu. All you heard was the sound of John laughing next to you and the table began to fill up and the talks of business once again began to fill the air. Since you necessarily didn’t attend to the business being talked about, you didn’t pay close attention to the chatter around you and you looked up from the menu to see the waiter already begin to approach the table and begin taking meal orders. You glanced over the menu again and once you were set on what you wanted, waited to be well...waited on. As you looked around, you felt a hand rest upon your knee and a hint of a smile fell on your lips. This was a move in whatever game you and John were playing tonight and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand, so you didn’t flinch when he began rubbing circles on your knee. As the waiter approached you, you could see the slight blush that crept upon his face when he glanced at you, and you smiled at him. He walked over to you and winked.

“And what will the beautiful young lady be getting this evening?” he asked looking straight at you. You weren’t one to not take a compliment but there’s always something about being called beautiful that made you giggle, so a giggle escaped your lips.

“You’re talking to the wrong woman but I’ll have the steak, fully cooked please” you batted your eyelashes and said with a higher than normal voice at the waiter, and that’s when you felt a slight squeeze on your knee. You caught John through the corner of your eye looking directly at you, and you knew you were winning. You shrugged your shoulder slightly at him and turned your attention back at the waiter.

“Oh and can i get a side of potatoes please sweet pea?” you asked. The waiter bite his lip and nodded slowly at you, catching onto your flirting.

“Of course anything for the beautiful young woman. Perhaps a drink as well? On the house?”

You could feel John’s glare on you and the grip on your knee had moved up to your thigh now as you tossed your hair behind your shoulder and giggled at the waiter, who’s name you saw was Ryan.

“Oh that would be just lovely! A gin and tonic please?” you giggled and smiled a toothy smile. Ryan nodded and wrote it down and moved next to John to take his order.

“And what can I get for you sir?” he asked and John scoffed.

“Yeah I’ll take the steak as well, medium rare. If it’s anything but I’m sending it back. And bring me back a glass of whiskey while you’re at it” he demanded and you had put your hand over his where it rested on your thigh. You definitely were winning this game. once Ryan had left, John leaned over to your ear again.

“Oh sweet girl...what exactly do you think you’re doing? Flirting with the waiter?” he harshly whispered and a hint of a smirk crept up to your lips.

“Jealous, much? And what’s wrong with flirting? I’m technically a single woman?” you innocently batted your lashes and pursed your lips.

“Oh pet...you’re mine and mine only...you got that?” he started and looked down at your hand on his, then he smiled, an idea popping into his head. “take them off...”

You looked at him confused, not understanding what he meant. “I’m sorry...? take what off?”

“Take them off...” he moved his hand up more, resting close enough on your thigh for you to get the message and your eyes widened. “I won’t ask again...” well...this was something new and something about it excited you and you eagerly stood up about to stride for the ladies room until John pulled you back down into your seat. “Oh no no, right here...I want to see you do it.” He looked in your eyes as he told you-no not told you, commanded you to do it. You nodded and pushed your seat all the way into the table and attempted to shift your hand under your dress to grab the fabric of your panties but there was no possible, or legal, way to do so.

“I can’t do it here without flashing the entire table!” you barely whispered not wanting anyone to hear of your escapades,

“The table cover is long enough and the woman next to you is far more entranced with conversation she’s in to notice you. Take them off if you want a good night later...” his hand brushed yours as he said that and that sent heat up your body to your face. You attempted again to do it unknowingly to the other people at the table, all while John had a smirk plastered on his face watching you squrim around in your seat trying to wrangle them off. As you finally managed to slide them off, you fixed your dress and set them in your lap.

“Is Mr. Deacon pleased?”

He reached over your lap and nodded and put them in his suit pocket. “Good girl...I’ll take good care of these” he grabbed your hand and placed it to his lips kissing it quickly and returning it to your lap, never letting go, and your face flushed and you felt in that moment yourself losing the lead in whatever game you were playing.

Dinner had come and gone uneventfully. as you finished up your food (without any other conversation from the waiter thanks to one John Deacon), and as you were walking to the entrance, you felt an arm snake around your waist and pulled you into the elevator. It was only the two of you when you first entered and John pressed the garage floor button.

“Oh i parked at the main entrance!” you exclaimed and he laughed.

“You really didn’t think i’d let you drive tonight did you? I might not have seen you until Monday. and besides, you have to learn your lesson.” he said while looking straight at the door, the grip on you only tightening.

“Lesson...? for what?” you asked looking at him and you could see the hint of mischief and business spark in his eyes.

“Oh my dear girl...for flirting with that waiter. I can’t have my girl go around doing that” he said and you could feel your face heat up. You didn’t know what he was going to do and before you could ask, the elevator stopped and it began to fill up with other people. The door shut and the elevator started its ascension downwards and you felt John drop to his knees to what it looked like to tie his shoe. You were relieved he wasn’t going to try anything until you felt his hand touch the back of your leg and as he stood up slowly, his hand traveled under your dress and rested nicely on your pantiless bum. You bit your lip trying not to make a sound and then you felt his hand snake forward and rest exactly where you wanted it all night. He at first teased you by leaving it there until he saw you squirm, that’s when he slowly slid two fingers in you and began to move them slowly around. You gasped quietly and cleared your throat, knowing you couldn’t make a sound without being caught. You were so thankful that you at the back of the elevator because you had to grab the bar to keep yourself steady.

As he inserted a third finger and moved them in and out at a slowly agonizing pace, he whispered directly into your ear. “Don’t make a sound and don’t come...this is your lesson for disobeying and for flirting with other men” he breathed into your ear and his hot breathe on your ear caused you to squrim slightly and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head gently as he kept moving his fingers slowly in you. Your mouth was left open in surprise and you looked at him and all he gave you was a shit eating grin. You grasped his arm tightly as he moved his fingers in you faster, not knowing how much more you could take and knowing you were close to your release. You turned into his side and pulled him down slightly to moan in his ear at a level only he could hear. “I...I don’t know how much more I can go...” you whined.

John kisses your head again and nodded “Oh sweet girl I know...hopefully now you’ll learn your lesson” he said hungrily and did the ‘come here’ motion with his index finger inside you and he quickly removed his hand from under your dress as the elevator stopped on the garage floor and it opened.

You opened your previously closed eyes and gasped at what had just happened. You saw john wipe his hand on a handkerchief he had inside his pocket and he took his other hand and grabbed yours with it, kissing it while leading you to his car. “You were so good princess, doing exactly as I told you. Now, how about we go back to my place and I give you a reward for being such a good girl?” he smirked as he helped you into his car and sped off.

[deakyrog]

Just A Business Meeting (John Deacon x Reader)

A/N: Hello! This definitely was not meant to be posted as this concept of older/dominate John Deacon kind of started between some friends and I but then I was kind of liking the idea and though the tumblr world might too? It’s been a LONG time since I ever wrote anything and this is my first “fic” type thing from the 2nd person POV so I hope it’s okay. I have some other ideas I might post but for now, enjoy!

Every weekday was another meeting, business lunch or business dinner with your boss without any true work. You were required to attend and remember anything memorable or worth your time or future expertise. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you took up the position as an assistant to gain some experience as you get yourself through graduate school. The job paid the student loans and helped with the experience needed to branch up and work as an official tax laywer, but for now you were interning at a regular law firm and getting to know the ins and outs. It wasn’t all so bad however. There was also that thing with your boss that took up your weekends and some nights during the week. You were…getting close with you boss. No, you were fucking your boss. But you didn’t mind, you weren’t looking for anything serious as it wasn’t the best time in your life, and your boss, Mr. Deacon, was definitely worth your time and you liked to think you were worth his. He was at least twenty your senior but goodness did he treat you better than any man your age ever would. You spent every weekend at his place, your normal weekend schedule with him was always leave at 5 PM on Friday, meet him at his place at 6 PM, usually go out to dinner around that time, come back and then it was time to do your homework. The things he’d show you and have you do is beyond comprehensible words but goodness did they make you feel good, he knew exactly what he was doing and you were more than eager to learn.

It was mid afternoon on a Friday and you were finishing up filing some forms when suddenly you felt a hand on your waist and a whisper in your ear coming from behind.

“Meet me in my office in 5 minutes, and lock the door behind you” The hungry voice said. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You nodded and smirked to yourself. You felt a quick kiss on the back of your head and the presence was gone. You finished filing the forms and knocked on Mr. Deacon’s door alerting him of your presence.

“Come in, and lock the door” he reminded you. He was sitting on the edge of his desk as you walked in and locked the door. You walked over to him and stood in front of him, with your back straight and shoulders relaxed. “Look at you, following what i said. such a good girl” He smirked as he pulled you closer to him by your waist. You bit your lip and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Only doing what I was told. However if you wanted some afternoon carnage I do live close by” you said sarcastically and a chuckle escaped his throat.

“Oh pet, if I wanted an afternoon delight you would know it. Unfortunately for you, we have to push tonight’s…activities back a few hours. There was a last minute staff meeting and I require your assistance tonight.” He told you as he rubbed circles into your hip with his thumb. You nodded in understanding.

“What time is it and where? i’ll just need to run to my place and grab a change of clothing.”

“5:30 and it’s at Penna Vera’s, so dress appropriately” he winked and released you. “Oh and pet, make sure you stick close by me. So when the timing is right we can sneak away and start our weekly…ritual. and call me John, it’s high time you started” he kissed you quickly and pinched your waist and released you. You walked out of his office and walked to your desk sitting down quickly, feeling flushed from just imaging what just happened and what tonight will entail. He barely touched you and you were already feeling dizzy. You still don’t understand how you can handle his intensity. John is everything anyone could ever want in a lover and a man. Intense, passionate, rough or slow, patient. He’s introduced you to many new things and ideas and you can’t imagine not using them on him and in the future. You sometimes take him by surprise when you ask for something that he introduced to you a few weeks ago. Like last week, you, as he had phrased it, “innocently requested your hands be tied up” by the tie he wore to dinner that night. By the time you snapped out of your thoughts, you realised how fast the day had gone and that it was time for you to run home and change into something more business appropriate. You gathered your things and skipped off to the car and drove to your place, excitedly thinking of the idea that popped into your head.

As you drove to Penna Vera’s, you parked close to the entrance and walked in, looking for John as he was the main reason you were there to begin with. You looked around and spotted him near the long bar in the back, so feeling a bit brave, you walked to the other side of the bar, not to far from him but not close enough to be on or next to him him, although that’s exactly what you’d love to be doing.

“One gin and tonic please” you told the bartender, leaning over the bar slightly. as you sat down on the bar stool, the previously unoccupied seat now had an occupant.

“Deciding to drink are we..?” the occupant said and you smirked.

“Why yes Mr. Deacon i am, the meeting hasn’t started and it’s been such a long day at work, i need to…unwind…” you drawled out the last word and crossed your legs on the stool as you took a sip from your newly made drink. John chuckled and looked at you up and down.

“Nice color dress, the blush color really suits you…and I do approve of the length..” he said in a low voice looking down at your crossed legs, the dress stopped above the knee but wasn’t unprofessionally short but teased in just the right way. Teased him in just the right way.

“Why thank you sir…I do remember you mentioning it’s a color that satisfies your tastes?” you looked at him and cocked your head to the side slightly. He chuckled and nodded.

“Indeed pet…come there’s people arriving and if they see my assistant having too much fun by herself there will be questions” he said as he hopped off the stool and offered his arm. You smiled and grabbed your purse and took it, walking over to the associates that you knew and have talked to from previous meetings.

As the night got on and you worked your way through the crowd of people, you finally made your way over to the table and get settled for dinner. Of course when you sat down, John wasn’t too far behind and slid into the seat next to you. He put his arm on the chair behind you and leaned in to whisper something.

“You’d think i’d let you get away that easily? All while going around in that dress?” you smirked to yourself hearing that.

“Didn’t know you were chasing me…should I be worried?” you winked.

“Oh princess I’m always going to be chasing you, you’re too easy to be caught.” he replied at sat back in his chair, bringing his arm back to his side.

“Yeah? Guess we’ll see about that” you challenged and winked and you picked up the menu. All you heard was the sound of John laughing next to you and the table began to fill up and the talks of business once again began to fill the air. Since you necessarily didn’t attend to the business being talked about, you didn’t pay close attention to the chatter around you and you looked up from the menu to see the waiter already begin to approach the table and begin taking meal orders. You glanced over the menu again and once you were set on what you wanted, waited to be well…waited on. As you looked around, you felt a hand rest upon your knee and a hint of a smile fell on your lips. This was a move in whatever game you and John were playing tonight and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand, so you didn’t flinch when he began rubbing circles on your knee. As the waiter approached you, you could see the slight blush that crept upon his face when he glanced at you, and you smiled at him. He walked over to you and winked.

“And what will the beautiful young lady be getting this evening?” he asked looking straight at you. You weren’t one to not take a compliment but there’s always something about being called beautiful that made you giggle, so a giggle escaped your lips.

“You’re talking to the wrong woman but I’ll have the steak, fully cooked please” you batted your eyelashes and said with a higher than normal voice at the waiter, and that’s when you felt a slight squeeze on your knee. You caught John through the corner of your eye looking directly at you, and you knew you were winning. You shrugged your shoulder slightly at him and turned your attention back at the waiter.

“Oh and can i get a side of potatoes please sweet pea?” you asked. The waiter bite his lip and nodded slowly at you, catching onto your flirting.

“Of course anything for the beautiful young woman. Perhaps a drink as well? On the house?”

You could feel John’s glare on you and the grip on your knee had moved up to your thigh now as you tossed your hair behind your shoulder and giggled at the waiter, who’s name you saw was Ryan.

“Oh that would be just lovely! A gin and tonic please?” you giggled and smiled a toothy smile. Ryan nodded and wrote it down and moved next to John to take his order.

“And what can I get for you sir?” he asked and John scoffed.

“Yeah I’ll take the steak as well, medium rare. If it’s anything but I’m sending it back. And bring me back a glass of whiskey while you’re at it” he demanded and you had put your hand over his where it rested on your thigh. You definitely were winning this game. once Ryan had left, John leaned over to your ear again.

“Oh sweet girl…what exactly do you think you’re doing? Flirting with the waiter?” he harshly whispered and a hint of a smirk crept up to your lips.

“Jealous, much? And what’s wrong with flirting? I’m technically a single woman?” you innocently batted your lashes and pursed your lips.

“Oh pet…you’re mine and mine only…you got that?” he started and looked down at your hand on his, then he smiled, an idea popping into his head. “take them off…”

You looked at him confused, not understanding what he meant. “I’m sorry…? take what off?”

“Take them off…” he moved his hand up more, resting close enough on your thigh for you to get the message and your eyes widened. “I won’t ask again…” well…this was something new and something about it excited you and you eagerly stood up about to stride for the ladies room until John pulled you back down into your seat. “Oh no no, right here…I want to see you do it.” He looked in your eyes as he told you-no not told you, commanded you to do it. You nodded and pushed your seat all the way into the table and attempted to shift your hand under your dress to grab the fabric of your panties but there was no possible, or legal, way to do so.

“I can’t do it here without flashing the entire table!” you barely whispered not wanting anyone to hear of your escapades,

“The table cover is long enough and the woman next to you is far more entranced with conversation she’s in to notice you. Take them off if you want a good night later…” his hand brushed yours as he said that and that sent heat up your body to your face. You attempted again to do it unknowingly to the other people at the table, all while John had a smirk plastered on his face watching you squrim around in your seat trying to wrangle them off. As you finally managed to slide them off, you fixed your dress and set them in your lap.

“Is Mr. Deacon pleased?”

He reached over your lap and nodded and put them in his suit pocket. “Good girl…I’ll take good care of these” he grabbed your hand and placed it to his lips kissing it quickly and returning it to your lap, never letting go, and your face flushed and you felt in that moment yourself losing the lead in whatever game you were playing.

Dinner had come and gone uneventfully. as you finished up your food (without any other conversation from the waiter thanks to one John Deacon), and as you were walking to the entrance, you felt an arm snake around your waist and pulled you into the elevator. It was only the two of you when you first entered and John pressed the garage floor button.

“Oh i parked at the main entrance!” you exclaimed and he laughed.

“You really didn’t think i’d let you drive tonight did you? I might not have seen you until Monday. and besides, you have to learn your lesson.” he said while looking straight at the door, the grip on you only tightening.

“Lesson…? for what?” you asked looking at him and you could see the hint of mischief and business spark in his eyes.

“Oh my dear girl…for flirting with that waiter. I can’t have my girl go around doing that” he said and you could feel your face heat up. You didn’t know what he was going to do and before you could ask, the elevator stopped and it began to fill up with other people. The door shut and the elevator started its ascension downwards and you felt John drop to his knees to what it looked like to tie his shoe. You were relieved he wasn’t going to try anything until you felt his hand touch the back of your leg and as he stood up slowly, his hand traveled under your dress and rested nicely on your pantiless bum. You bit your lip trying not to make a sound and then you felt his hand snake forward and rest exactly where you wanted it all night. He at first teased you by leaving it there until he saw you squirm, that’s when he slowly slid two fingers in you and began to move them slowly around. You gasped quietly and cleared your throat, knowing you couldn’t make a sound without being caught. You were so thankful that you at the back of the elevator because you had to grab the bar to keep yourself steady.

As he inserted a third finger and moved them in and out at a slowly agonizing pace, he whispered directly into your ear. “Don’t make a sound and don’t come…this is your lesson for disobeying and for flirting with other men” he breathed into your ear and his hot breathe on your ear caused you to squrim slightly and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head gently as he kept moving his fingers slowly in you. Your mouth was left open in surprise and you looked at him and all he gave you was a shit eating grin. You grasped his arm tightly as he moved his fingers in you faster, not knowing how much more you could take and knowing you were close to your release. You turned into his side and pulled him down slightly to moan in his ear at a level only he could hear. “I…I don’t know how much more I can go…” you whined.

John kisses your head again and nodded “Oh sweet girl I know…hopefully now you’ll learn your lesson” he said hungrily and did the ‘come here’ motion with his index finger inside you and he quickly removed his hand from under your dress as the elevator stopped on the garage floor and it opened.

You opened your previously closed eyes and gasped at what had just happened. You saw john wipe his hand on a handkerchief he had inside his pocket and he took his other hand and grabbed yours with it, kissing it while leading you to his car. “You were so good princess, doing exactly as I told you. Now, how about we go back to my place and I give you a reward for being such a good girl?” he smirked as he helped you into his car and sped off.

[seenashwrite]

Writing question: If a group of people walk up to the reader, and he/she already knows who they are (example: they are actors, musicians, authors, ect.), is it better to just list all the people outside of dialog (In front of him/her stood John Smith, Joe Blow, Jim Bean, and Johnny Walker) or should the people introduce themselves, anyway? (Hi, I'm Fill-in-the-blank, and this is Such-and-such, So-and-so, and That-one-over-there.)

My immediate reaction to the listing off-sides was intestinal torsion. 

Hoo-boy, we’re starting out with a bang o’ bluntness. But I got your attention, right? You, person, having just read that question? See that’s the thing, Nonners: you just gave an inventory of stuff there - you had to, of course, to ask the Q - but imagine that in a story. Kills momentum.

Now, I’m operating here from a VERY-all-capital-letters important assumption, which is that someone in this collective of people who are about to be noted are integral to the plot, meaning they are a Totally Big Deal Character, either co-protagonist to your reader protag, or they are protag’s antagonist. 

Otherwise? If they’re just passing through, but we are taking time to say names and shake hands and exchange pleasantries or whatnot? This is gonna stall the engine like a teenager learning how to work a clutch on an incline. (Oh, and regardless of which route you take, advise a hard pass at it happening at the top of/near the top of the story, too many people to drop from the get-go.)

So other than Totally Big Deal Character, what do I mean by integral? Easiest way to tell is if the Knowns aren’t going to have speaking roles, or it’s just minor throw-away stuff like “Look out!” or “We’re headed to lunch, need anything?”, etc. If that’s the case, they don’t need proper introductions, especially because they’re Knowns. We wanna acknowledge without going down a receiving line.

Multiple character intros in dialogue vs. off-sides is preferable whenever possible - certainly, book-length stuff gives more wiggle room, ‘cause readers know up front they’re in for a long haul - and here’s how I’d dodge a “listing the ingredients in a recipe” vibe during introductions… 

Picture it - we’re grooving along, we’ve gotten to know Nash a bit (that’s Y/N for this scenario, because I’m not typing that-which-I-just-typed again, we’ve hit the “1″ limit I give myself so as not to break out in hives) and we’ve kinda got the plot cranking, and now it’s time to meet Totally Big Deal Character.

And because Totally Big Deal Character’s posse are Knowns, to Nash and everybody else in the story and everybody reading, you could—- hang on. 

Alex, hon, you mind helping with this real quick?

Sweet. Thanks, puddin’. 

All right, so my author eye is on the prize. That’s him. The rest of the people with him are garnish. That’s mah steak. Don’t want no peas and carrots and taters… I will likely want the taters, because I always order them with steak, but that’s neither here nor there.

Say that Alex is back on cable TV in a bananas series where the lead male can’t act worth a shit and the main female character is obnoxious despite the quite adept actress portraying her—–

Jeez, Moody McPissypants, it’s just a scenario! 

He and a handful of cast mates are walking over, Nash is chatting with Friend Person, they’re kinda surprised to discover that yes, indeed, Alex and co. appear to not just be passing by but are slowing down, they’ve come to a stop, hesitant but friendly smiles all around, and then —>

.

“Hey - you’re Nash?” he asked, and extended his hand. “I’m Alex.”

“Hi, yeah. Nice to meet you,” Nash replied, taking it..

“And you know these guys, right?” Alex added, gesturing to his cast mates, who all gave small waves and nods of acknowledgment.

“I do, I do… oh, and this is Friend,” said Nash.

Alex shook her hand as well, then turned back to Nash, saying, “We’re done for the day, and we’re headed out to get a beer, if you two wanted to come along.”

.

And hopefully, the bar is your setting where shit kicks off, whether it’s romance or friendship or finding out he’s some sort of serial killer or whatever. The crew doesn’t have to disappear - I mean, they kinda shouldn’t - so you can always toss in a casual —>

. 

Nash was leaning on the bar, waiting on the bartender to take her order, when she felt someone at her side.

“Let me get this next round.”

Alex.

“That’s okay, I’m just getting one for myself - she’s cut off,” Nash replied, and glanced over his shoulder; Friend was still hustling Alex’s poor, naive co-stars at the pool table. “It’s a real bloodbath over there.”

“Well… wanna dodge the carnage, maybe grab a booth, so it’s kinda in the shadows and I can stick my tongue down your throat without it being, like, a paparazzi bait thing?”

.

IT’S. A. SCENARIO.

Since you’ve established everybody knows who everybody is and there’s not necessarily a need to do roll call, you could, during little bits of dialogue (little, because again, eye on the prize) have somebody be like—- wait a sec.

Keanu? Doll? Can you help out real fast, if you’re not too busy, that is?

Awesome. Bit intense, but awesome.

You can have Friend rush over to the booth where Nash and Alex are about to tongue wrestle, and go —>

.

“Nash, quick, I need twenty bucks.”

“Uh, I’m going to need more than that,” Nash replied with a grin.

“Keanu would like to move on to darts, and I’m going to hand him his ass. You know, typical Friday.”

Alex chuckled, asking, “Did somebody finally beat you at pool? What happened to all your winnings?”

Friend shook her head. “Oh, no. I’m in the black. The twenty’s for him.”

.

Like I hit on briefly earlier, things like this are basically for the purpose of avoiding a situation of you having them there, then proceeding to never mention them again, because subconsciously (or consciously, for anal-retentives like myself) readers will be like, “Then why the hell were they brought up in the first place?” In my mind, that stuff plays better than —>

.

Nash and Friend’s conversation slowed to a halt, words dropping off with every footstep the group took in their direction.

Holy shitsnacks! thought Nash. That’s Alex Skarsgard! And Keanu Reeves! And bless my buttered biscuits, is that Jason Momoa? Is Dwayne Johnson carrying John Cho?! Did Friend just pass out, or is she dead? Should I start CPR? Wait, ermahgerd, Taika Waititi’s here, too, is he directing?!?

.

I’m being ridiculous, but hopefully you’re getting my point. Do acknowledgments via organic sprinklings through the dialogue take more words/more space? Sure. But it’s smoother. Smooth like the snow surrounding a nekkid Swede readin’ on a mountain top.

True Blood was batshit.

Hope this helped. 😊

[sparda3g]

The Seven Deadly Sins Chapter 267 and 268 Review

It’s been a while since I last review the series’ chapter. I had a complication with my new laptop to get my day started, but now I am back in motion. I apologize for unable to get chapter 266 review done. Now I am back for the latest chapter; however, there were two releases. I guess you can say it’s my karma, can’t escape from working hard. On the bright side, we have two chapters to enjoy.

The first chapter was largely a buildup, picked up right where Estarossa lost his mind and proceeded to choke Elizabeth, because love hurts. It’s sad how I thought, “As expected. Oh the humanity! Will anyone please save the princess?!” Sorry, my expectation has shrunk. Fortunately, she ends up saving herself by shooting magic right at his face. It’s the least she had to do; she was about to die. Honestly, if someone did save her from that, that is kind of sad. My hope for her was rising and nothing can ruin that…

Right?

An interesting setting for Estarossa to choose to hide her at, concerning that it was a secret meeting place between Meliodas and her. Estarossa truly believe he is his oldest brother; I can’t say that’s sweet of him. Of course, Elizabeth will be touched by the sight since it is nostalgia and all, so I didn’t mind her reacting this way. For now. Shame that it does resort to a love triangle war though, especially Estarossa being involved in this mess.

The next conflict against him is setup back at the plain field with the Archangels and King getting ready to set off. I wonder if this is how the series’ battle will be like going forward; teamwork is the only way to win. It’s nothing wrong with that; just feel like one-on-one will become Meliodas and very few others exclusive. Anyway, it makes sense for those three to be the only one to go since they can fly; sorry, no flying nimbus. If this was a Seinen series, I would be very afraid for King to die because of marriage in mind, but I am worried in a lower capacity level.

Before anyone can say, “Sausagefest,” Derieri insists to join along as well because she can fly too. This is when it finally put her trust into the test due to her status. At least the Archangels aren’t so rude with her. It’s  evident that only Ludociel is a bona fide douche of Archangels; good for others. Human can bad mouth at her all day, so it’s natural.

I was happy that King is the one to step up and defend her, mainly because his journey in the past spiritually comes in handy for a reasonable decision making. I couldn’t see any other way. I don’t know if King will tell her the story, though I think it’s that important. So long she has someone’s support, she is allowed to go. I do get the feeling that this is her endgame, but maybe Nakaba will surprise me. We’ll see. Now we have a demon, a fairy, and two Archangels. Sounds like a really strong team.

It segues to a better yet simple insight of Estarossa and his struggles in the past. As said before, he’s like the bastard child that no one would want or befriend with. The reason why he loves Elizabeth and Meliodas is because they didn’t laugh at him. It’s a familiar story of social outcast getting loved by one and eventually fallen in love. The problem is he’s a villain and most importantly, Elizabeth always have her eyes on Meliodas. What a shocker.

Even in the midst of depression, she still talks about him and ask Estarossa to help her. To be fair, Meliodas is the prime target, so I won’t blame her for bringing up the topic in this dreary mood. I unintentionally feel bad for Estarossa to be stuck with this hell of being neglected by two obsessed lovers. Who’s the actual villain here?

The one part that is questionable and honestly, I’m curious for probably a reason that wasn’t intended is whether that one memory of his is true. He states that Meliodas once told him that he will work things out with him and Elizabeth. Elizabeth is confident that he would never say that. If you take it out of context, I would think she’s an asshole for being so damn sure. Hell, do we even know what Meliodas meant if that part is true? It sounds like something of an older brother trying to make the relationship work, but not necessarily make them lovers. I wish the translation was more accurate or the tone was better suggestive because that respond somewhat pissed me off. It better be false to escape this mess. “I’m sure your memory is mistaken.” It better be…

Estarossa does go mad and the Commandments begin to swallow him up. He resumes back to choking Elizabeth out cold, only it’s a strangle rather than a chokehold. She started it, so serve her right. At least, she’s on cue to be damsel in distress, so why I even bother hoping. Estarossa form a ball shape, filled with the Commandments’ energy. He lost his mind to drag her into the abyss, so he can eat her. Look, if it does put her into Kaneki’s state in the last episode of Tokyo Ghoul Season 1, I will eat all of my complaints and put her on a throne; no more from me.

It’s an interesting comparison with Estarossa and Meliodas’ current state. That would mean Estarossa will go through the transformation phase similar to Meliodas in which is taking time to complete. The state is like a cocoon, waiting it to break. What I would like to know if Meliodas can come in contact with other Commandments or other similar procedure he’s in. If so, he may detect Elizabeth in danger and plan will change. It does sound like a perfect setup for those two to go head-to-head with similar power-up. It’s only matter of time.

The second chapter is pretty straightforward, but entertaining none the less. It’s all about Ban, the guy who has been missing for a while. The color page did give it away, so it wasn’t much of shocker. However, it does hold more than one meaning behind it. While there isn’t much to cover in plot aspect, the joy comes from the journey and how far he has gone.

It does start off strange with some wolf covered in black energy or whatever, leaving some fans wondering what is that at first. I quite like the imagery of the setting. It’s artsy in a way, something like Limbo the video game. It’s a nice change of pace in its atmosphere; Nakaba should do more of that technique. It becomes clear that it’s Ban when it remembers the Fountain of Youth and sure enough, he recovers to his normal state. Well, his human state to be exact.

These two chapters used plenty of large panels, sometimes a page worth, for impacting effect or cool designs. In this chapter, it’s mainly for the detail and exploiting the hardship journey. Purgatory is true hell and even for an immortal, it can still “kill” you. Your body may not break, but your mind will.

Ban grew crap load of hair but that’s because time travel fast in there. With the mixed of an image of a lost man and his current mental state, it would appear he has lost his mind, close succumb to eternal hell. It’s effective when even Ban was scared out of his mind. The double page is really good. It’s like watching some guy going to an endless journey; wandering around for centuries (literally).

I feel bad for Ban to suffer this magnitude. It’s agonizing how he keeps calling for Meliodas like he really can’t take it anymore. Immortal isn’t shaping up to be incredible. It’s telling when he begins to speak to himself, questions and all. You can argue that he’s doing so to keep in check of his humanity’s state, which is plausible. Either way, he’s fallen into the despair that could one day take him to emptiness.

We are treated with a nice fun action with some silly looking black dragon, but this type of nature is amusing and I do miss it. It’s a good change of imagination in its lore, so not everything has to be vicious in design. The dragon reminds me of Meliodas’ old sword, but I believe that is the point by the end. It brings a fun action between the two. It was a good timing on its end since Ban needed a distraction to prevent total insanity. It’s funny how I thought we have a new hairstyle for Ban, only to get his head blown away and regenerate with the usual cut. It’s a good thing that I didn’t jump ahead to think there’s an art error since time travel really fast and such.

It’s good that it was established a while back that Ban and Meliodas have a solid friendship, so it’s nice yet a bit sad how much he has struggled to retrieve his best friend’s emotion. Luckily, Ban has a lover that is far tolerable in compare but my point is his reminder of Elaine waiting for him causes “Meliodas” to speak from somewhere. All this time, that funny looking dragon is “him.” It’s charming how two friends always find a way to challenge each other, no matter where.

Now that he has found “him,” it does make me wonder if he will return once actual Meliodas “hatches” from transformation or will it be for a while, leaving room for Meliodas to cause chaos. I don’t even know how can Ban escape from there. He now holds the game changer; it’s only matter of how long it will take.

Overall, the two chapters were good for its setup. Archangels, King, and Derieri is an impressive dynamic; hopefully it takes them a while to get there for some amusing interactions. Estarossa lost his mind because this romance has been mind-numbing. It leaves a sign of potential two brothers’ battle coming soon, possibly after with those four arrival. Ban’s journey was creeping and amusing. The artwork for both chapters are pretty solid with nice detail with its single page use. The second chapter benefited greatly from extra spaces and impacting inserts. The combine of two doesn’t make it feel like two chapters in total, but it covers enough setup to engage an exciting event for the next. Plus, both end page of each chapter connects each other. It won’t be long now before another round of carnage ensue.

[bloodybenjamin]

9-11 February 2019

My LVO games were fascinating! I got 5 games in and won them all. However, they were largely exploitations of opponent mistakes on a macro and micro scale.

On one hand, it is exciting and fun that I am at a skill level where A. I’m not making the crucial mistake, B. I have the foresight to identify and exploit an opponent mistake when I see one and C., it helps “the win rate”.

On the other hand, a win rate is infinitely less meaningful than your growth rate. While it feels good in the moment to capitalize on an error, it’s a fleeting pleasure. In the search for the dopamine of a white knuckle, toe-to-toe slug, it pales in comparison.

With that being said, I’m going to juice the insight out of these experiences as best as possible so I (and maybe you) can glean.

Read about Game 1 here!

Game 2

This was a game against a super friendly human who was getting into the game. They only had 50 points of Menoth on them, and seemed eager to learn. So I made a 50 point Kromac 2 list and we threw down. We agreed to maintain a learning environment, so I approached this game a specific way; instead of just showing them how to lose to a more experienced player, I instead made decisions that gave them interesting choices, and said out loud what my intent was. During their turn, I presented them with options, and gave them tactical suggestions.

I found that declaring my intent out loud was useful to me too, as I found myself discovering things my habitual motions sail over. Furthermore, I was thinking a few turns ahead about what my opponent wanted to do, as opposed to my usual “what -I- want to do based on what happens”. This was revelatory.

In any case, I did slowly take over the game, and I hope my opponent got to see the value of making key decisions and playing a more patient game instead of slamming as much as you can into the frontline in round 2.

Game 3

Game 2 was against my good friend and Warmachine regular. They had finished their Main tournament run and had a little juice left in them for a brawl. So I asked to put Kromac 2 and the Storm Raptor into their Zaal 2 Immortals.

Long story short, they made a big big mistake, largely on account of their fatigued state. What was probably supposed to be a feat turn was not. My opponent would tell me that they didn’t necessarily forget about their feat, but they had a dynamic update to the game state goof up their turn plan. So in the top of 3, the Storm Raptor took out 12ish Immortals, Ghettorix took out another 6ish, and my Stalker took out a Supreme Guardian. It was a massive attrition swing.

It’s hard to dig for precious minerals in this one because of the scale of the goof. My opponent acknowledged they were taking a gamble, and it happened to come up snakes. But I can say this; I played an uncomfortably careful game in my 2nd turn due to my respect for both my opponent and the Immortals. Apart from the Raptor taking some shots at the right Canoneer, nothing else happened outside of slightly repositioning everything a bit more intelligently into actionable positions. In no stranger to this at this point, but the temptation was strong to start picking things off and I managed to avoid it.

Game 4

I got to play against a really sharp and sophisticated opponent who had traveled in from California with their Cygnar. We discussed our lists and after identifying a list-chicken situation, we just agreed to the funnest sounding match-up, which was Stryker 2 into my non-Storm Raptor Kromac 2 list.

My opponent did an awesome job of explaining what Stryker did and how he interacted with the list, and also asked good questions about what my list did. It was clear they wanted a good, informed game, and I very respect this!

My takeaway from this game was that I actively kept a Warmachine adage in my head and acted upon it every turn. It goes something like “Look at the table, find out what kills your caster, and then don’t do that.” It seems like common sense but evaluating the whole table against this condition and then making decisions through the temptation of action was new! I kept Kromac waaaaayyy far away from Stryker at all times, even when Kromac had a juicy jack to go take down, or a perfect little group of warrior models to eat up. Doing consciously was good exercise!

This game was a grind for sure. It was on Recon II and there were 2 max units of Storm Lances breathing down my neck the whole time.

Ultimately, my opponent got very aggressive in an attempt to squeeze the worth out of the feat. And while a Stalker did go down, the enemy forces ended up bubble wrapped around my heavies. Kromac pops feat, and I took out almost all of the Storm Lances and Storm Guard Infantry. From that point on, the game was mine to lose, and I had to push it back far enough while not giving anything to Stryker I didn’t have to. Stryker did take down a Feral before it was all said and done, but by that point the game was all but lost for my opponent.

Awesome game! It was neat dealing with Stryker 2 for the first time and I’m very glad I met this person and played Warmachine with them.

Game 5

I had the tremendous pleasure of running into a person I met last year at LVO 2018! They are a human of great radiance and joy, and they happen to be a Circle player. After an extremely enjoyable conversation about our explorations into modern Circle, we decided to have a Storm Raptor Duel. So I dropped my Kromac 2 Raptor Variant into their Una 2 Raptor menagerie! In addition to their big lightning girl, they had griffons, goats, ragers, and more.

I went first, and my opponent very delightfully deployed their Storm Raptor opposite mine. Haha! We clearly wanted the same thing. Unfortunately, their lady ended up in range of mine at the bottom of 2, and I badly wanted to know if a Storm Raptor could kill a Storm Raptor in melee. And it turns out that through Carnage, Primal, and Dog Pile, it certainly can! And it was close! Mathematically, you want all 7 melee attacks, you want them at plus 1 or 2 damage, and you want them all to hit. On averages it happens, but we all now how dice work. And ohhhhhh boy does it feel fuckin’ WEIRD putting Primal on a 35 point gargantuan. Haha!

The rest of the game was an absolutely slug fest, and I’m lucky enough to have been in the ring for this one. My opponent clocked, and without saying a word we continued for 20 more minutes to see it through. These are the kinds of games that put premium gas in the tank. Much love, opponent.

Closing Thoughts

Be conscious. Take what you can from every game. Have fun!

[adriennescomingbacktolife]

The Good, The Bad, and The Lonely

OOC: A collab piece with Silvio Leon!

“Hey! Nice day for a walk in the park.”    Silvio beamed at Adrienne as she approached. He’d sent her a message to meet at Pierce’s Park. Dressed in blue jeans, brown leather sandals and a sleeveless red shirt, he stood from his seat on a bench and waved her over. It was good to see her - not just for the purpose of work, but also for the pleasure of her company. Setting down roots in a new town and reworking a social network from the ground up was difficult, but it also presented new opportunities; new stories.    “Nice kicks! Putting that winner’s purse to good use, huh?” he said with a grin.    After waving, she looked at her New Balances and shrugged with her reply, “Oh, these? I got these with my tag match winnings. My old ones were coming apart at the seams.”    Adrienne appreciated that it wasn’t raining today. It was just very, very hot. So she opted for a nondescript white tank top and jean shorts.    “Nate did buy me all new ring attire for the big show, though.” She said with a wry smile.    Silvio laughed, closing the distance between them and raising a brow. “That was a helluva match. Never doubted you for a minute, though. Congrats!”    Seeing Adrienne’s continued success was exciting. He reflected on the woman he’d met with at the cafe just a few weeks ago and how much of a difference there already was between her and this freshly triumphant Adrienne Levi. Winning wasn’t everything, but the new vibrancy he saw in her promos, her ring-work, and just the way she held herself made him glad.    “Victory suits you. Looking forward to continuing that win streak at WAR?”    Taking in all of the unorthodox architecture surrounding them, Adrienne considered that. Knox had told her to essentially revel in these moments. She finally answered after a bit of silence during their stroll, “Sure. Winning’s fun. I try not to make too big a deal about it, Silvio. Knew someone who did. Know lots of people who do.”    Adrienne stuck her hands in her pockets, head hung low as she trailed off.    He raised a brow, cocking his head to one side.    “Hey...sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve or anything. Something on your mind? You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t feel like it, but I’m always happy to lend an ear.”    Stopping, she looked around. As of late, Adrienne had been hearing things from folks that couldn’t possibly know.    “No need to apologize. As for that, I’m not sure.” She didn’t want to betray Matt’s trust. Their conversations were private but something he said resonated with her in the wrong way. Her voice lowered a little, “I appreciate what you’ve done. Like more than you could ever know. But I’m not sure if I can be what is expected of me. I’ve done bad things, Silvio.”    He blinked in surprise before gesturing for her to have a seat with him on a nearby bench. “Everyone has done bad things, Adrienne. A bad action doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person.” Pausing, he glanced around before nodding to a man having a stroll with his wife, their children laughing and racing before them. “Pretty sure that guy’s new in town; or at least to this park. See how he keeps patting his back pocket? That’s where his wallet is. When people are out and about, especially in places that might be unfamiliar to them, they tend to touch things they value to make sure they’re still there; still safe.” Leaning back, he continued in a conversational tone. “Now, if someone were to take that wallet, he’d probably notice pretty quickly, and he might be able to spot the thief before they had a chance to get away. That’s why you leave a bunk biscuit in its place. A bunk biscuit is an object that is about the same size and weight as the one that’s being stolen. It’s tricky to do, but it’s worth it because it’ll take longer for him to realize anything’s gone amiss. By that time, the person stealing the wallet will be long gone.”    Looking at Adrienne, he gives her a little smile.    “How do you think I know that?”    Looking at the man with the family and then back to Silvio, Adrienne returned the smile sheepishly. Her answer was innocent in nature, “Books?”    But what he said started to set in.    “Oh. OH. Well, I won’t tell anyone.”    His grin widened. “It’s okay. Look, sometimes people find themselves in extraordinary circumstances and they do things they wouldn’t have expected to do.” Silvio shrugged. “I wasn’t a bad kid, I was just poor and hungry and desperate. Life can take us places we weren’t prepared for, and we do the best given the circumstances.” Looking at her, his expression softened. “I’m sure whatever you’ve done, you did because your options were limited or you were in a desperate situation. I wouldn’t judge you for that.”    She appreciated Leon sharing like this. Adrienne felt a compulsion to let everything out but nobody deserved that. Trying her best to commiserate, she mumbled, “Thanks. I did things for Danny. Things I’m not proud of.”    Silvio felt his heart give a lurch at that. He’d never met Danny Levi, but the tone she used to talk about him, her body language when he came up, raised some red flags. His body posture relaxed, and his own voice became lower and softer. “Yeah?” he murmured. “Is it something that’s hurting you now? I mean, do you need help or some time for yourself? The match is just a match - if you need to take care of yourself, that’s way more important.”    She smiled at Silvio’s kindness. Her eyes were mired in the sadness of the acts but she had promised herself that they would not define her.    “I’ve been reminded of a lot lately. But, gosh, Silvio, I’m so tired of being alone. I hate Clearwater. Feels like my tomb. And I guess it’s obvious: Danny’s not really in the picture anymore. I don’t think he’s coming back. I wish he would.” Subconsciously twisting the gold wedding band on her finger, she sniffled a little before resuming. “Cuz I did a lot for him. Did things I can never take back.”    Alone.    The word lanced through his heart like a shard of ice. But it was nothing compared to the way his stomach churned at Adrienne’s admission of things she’d done in her husband’s name.    “Do you,” he said softly, “want a hug? Or do you want to hold my hand? I understand if you don’t, but it’s okay if it would make you feel better. I know...how you feel. I don’t...I left everything behind when I came here. It’s really hard sometimes because so much of my support network is so far away. I’ve been incredibly fortunate with everyone I’ve met at Carnage since I got here - you included. But if it’s that bad, Adrienne, do you wanna work on getting you out of Clearwater? If it’s an emergency, I’ve got an open couch at my place - no questions asked.”    If it were only that easy to leave that place behind. Her mother would have a thousand reasons as to why leaving her hometown would be foolish. But there was one reason to leave that overrode them all.    “I’d like that. I really would,” and then she knew the following admission from a grown woman would make her seem sort of pathetic but she swallowed her pride and continued, “I gotta talk to my mom about this. She’s put up with so much already. With Danny and all, she didn’t want me even coming back to do this. She has her doubts even with how amazing all of you have been. I’ll convince her one day but for now, I’ll have to settle for visits.”    Looking forward to the myriad of people enjoying their day, she discreetly offered her hand.    Taking her hand in his, Silvio felt a pang wash over him. He drew in a breath, brow knit as he considered his words. “Do what you have to do. But - and if I’m out of line here, you can tell me - you gotta start living your life for yourself sooner or later. If you need out of Clearwater, you should start looking at other possibilities. I guess ultimately you have to ask yourself if the pain of the situation you’re in now is sustainable or not. Is enduring a known pain easier to deal with than an unknown potential for something better?”    “You make a lot of sense, Silvio. In fact, all of you have lately,” she paused, politely taking her hand back to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. However, something had been bothering her. She would have a lot to mull over considering her situation but the newest addition to her nightmares as of late had been bothering her as of late. She summoned a little courage and posed her statement, “Only thing that doesn’t make sense is Zane King and you. You teamed with him. Walked by his side like it was nothing. Matt took issue with that but I’m not sure I feel the same way he does. That guy, he scares me. But, not only that, he nearly crushed my windpipe. Yet, here you are, unscathed.”    Silvio’s expression faltered somewhat and his gaze dropped to the ground. Taking a deep breath, as if steeling himself, he looked up at her. “He isn’t...Zane isn’t the same guy outside of the ring. I was able to talk with him; reason with him a bit. We worked out a deal, and that’s why that match even happened. If I hadn’t been able to get through to him, I’m pretty sure it would have just been a free-for-all. It was still pretty chaotic, even then.”    He pressed his lips together, thoughtful.    “...I wouldn’t...approach him when he’s near the ring or when a fight is about to happen,” he suggested. “There’s no getting through to him then. But when it’s quiet? When things are still...calm...he isn’t dangerous. I think…” Shaking his head, he gave her a sardonic smile. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I think he’s a little scared, and even more lonely.”    Adrienne remembered back to the match. Was really easy to remember the worst parts. Silvio however reminded her of one strange moment towards the end. After an errant boot had busted his lip open, he became uncontrollable. It stopped being a competitive wrestling match and instead became a struggle to survive the night. After managing to escape his clutches, he was dragged up the ramp by his security detail and King gave her the strangest expression. All she could see were his eyes and yet they told her for the briefest moment that what Silvio had just explained was true.    “I believe you,” she replied emphatically.