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beansidhebumbling · 1 month ago

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The Art of War

The study was empty when Eris entered it.

He was quite sure of it.

Or had been until he heard a startled gasp when he slammed his hand against his desk.

He turned suddenly, catching his emerald brocade waistcoat on the corner of the bureau. Yet another casualty of this disastrous ball if the ripping he heard was anything to go by. There the intruder sat, across the firelit room in his favourite armchair, a vision of stunned elegance in white muslin.

Under his burning gaze, emotions burst like fireworks across her sharp little face- nervousness, irritation, anger, hope -before disappearing beneath a veil of polite, practiced concern.

'My Lord, I apologise for the intrusion.'

She murmured, head tilted down, voice trembling just so. She was a poised model of simpering female softness, slippered feet peeping out beneath the hem of her ivory dress, gloved hands clinging to a book, probably poetry.

And yet.. she made no move to stand, no rush to leave what was no doubt a compromising situation for any young debutante. Indeed Eris had a suspicion that the violent bang of his arrival was of little surprise at all. Only fools believed women incapable of deception, when indeed in polite society their very existence depended on their mastery of it.

Unfortunately for this actress he had no intention of being trapped by yet another conniving mama and his extinguished patience was not present to temper his tongue.

'What a skilled artist you are, Miss. Your concern for me is as artificial as the rouge on your pretty lips, yet most convincing. A lesser man may have been fooled. May I suggest you leave here and find such a man before I lose what is left of my good will.'

He snarled, feeling his face redden with frustration as he spoke until his complexion surely matched his hair.

He expected a few tears or a dramatic exit once he spoke.

He'd inspired both before.

Instead the creature had leaned back in the chair and raised her face towards him, so he got to observe her thin eyebrows climb higher and higher in disbelief and her plump bottom lip thin in fury as he raved.

There followed a few moments of painful silence where the only sounds that could be heard were the distant ballroom music and his own heavy breathing.

Then she rose from her seat, her movements liquid and graceful, a dancer he guessed, the book still in hand. Advancing on him she began to speak, voice low and steady, her grey eyes like knives pointed at him,

'I am skilled artist, my Lord, though not as you insinuate. And it is a damning indictment on men that I believe I could find lesser than what exists before me.'

He winced at her condemnation, an expert with blades of all kinds clearly. His chest tightened strangely and his hand clutched at it but he received no mercy from the descending angel.

'I have heard many tales of you, Lord Vanserra, but none had quite readied me for that introduction.'

His heart was ready to burst from his chest. Maybe because it was wrapped, from her first word, in a bow of barbed wire, that glistened gold and extended across the rapidly disappearing space between himself and the vengeful beauty. The clarity of this realization was as striking as his regret at his own insult towards her.

She continued, blessed as he was with the sweet timbre of her voice, damned as he was with its contents,

'I entered your study for a chance to meet you, my charming soulmate. So as to allow the bond to click for you in private, so you would not have to suffer publicly, as I did.'

Gods damn him.

She was breathtaking clothed in rage. It may be the only solace he could take from her anger, as based on his actions she would feel little else for him henceforth.

She reached him, those dainty feet now so close to his fine leather boots, her perfume of orange and vanilla filling his nose. He was sure he appeared to be a madman, clenched over his desk in pain as his heart was reforged as hers. His pale hand reached for her but she artfully dodged him, skirts whirling as she dropped the book on his desk and leaned down so her lips were by his ear.

'My name is Nesta Archeron, my Lord. And I will go now and seek one of those lesser men that you speak of. Do come join me when you are less indisposed.'

Nesta, he tried the name out, finding it to be most delightful even as a searing jealousy at the thought of her with another man threatened to turn his stomach.

By the time he could choke out her name, she was by the door.

'Nesta. Please.'

Funny how words that came so easy to him mere minutes ago had vanished somewhere between his head and his heart.

'Nesta.'

She did not turn but he saw her posture tense slightly as she pulled open the door and disappeared back to the dance.

He was not sure how long it took him to recover. Only that when his vision finally cleared the moon was high in the sky and the crunching of carriages and laughter could be heard through the bay window.

Nesta.

She was his first thought, as she would be for the rest of his life.

How Lucien would laugh at him. Only Eris Vanserra could offend his mate so thoroughly before an introduction. When he tentatively probed at the bond, that gold ribbon he felt bound to his heart, it echoed into the darkness with no response.

She had shut him off.

No great surprise but disappointment bit at his gut like a viper.

Pressing his forehead against the cool mahogany he sighed in despair. He allowed himself a moment more to wallow in his own stupidity before standing and fixing his jacket, buttoning it so as to hide his torn waistcoat.

It would do no good to admit defeat at this early stage. Eris had been fighting for his place since the day he was born. If it were to be no different with his mate, he could rest assured that none were more practiced than he.

His eyes turned to the thin book she had left on the desk, the smell of oranges still clinging to it. He turned his first gift from her, for it was one in his mind at least, over to read the title.

The Art of War.

For the first time that night, a smile tugged at his mouth.

How apt.

And though sleep beckoned Eris relit the candles in the study for it was time to prepare for the fight of his life.

#Neris #nesta archeron #nesta x eris #eris vanserra #Eris is an idiot #I'm sick so it's more regency core stuff #Bridgerton eat your heart out #Acotar

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sp4ceboo · 5 months ago

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CHAPTER 2 ~ LATE NIGHT TEARS

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: excuse another set up chapter, shit will start going down very very soon

chapter warnings: mentions of death/death threats, sad vibes ngl

chapter word count: 2.6k

After Chan agrees, things progress surprisingly fast. Although he sends Chan a warning look, Minho doesn’t object, and Seungmin looks at you coolly, as if he hasn’t quite put his confidence in you but doesn’t object to sharing a space with you, either. Felix just looks happy. You get the sense that he trusts you just because you haven’t given him a reason otherwise.

If any of them take notice of your row of kitchen knives, they say nothing.

They decide among themselves who is going where. In the end, Felix and Seungmin stay back with you while Chan and Minho go to fetch the others. You talk a little with them, finding out that Felix owned a cafe and Seungmin was doing a masters in law. The blonde happily chatters with you, informing you further that Chan was a lifeguard and Minho a dance teacher and sometimes part of a troupe, as well the lives of the others, while Seungmin stares out the window as it begins to rain, occasionally chipping in.

It’s altogether far too easy to talk with Felix. There’s something about him that’s warm, something about the simple way he trusts you that makes him all the more trustworthy - he puts you at ease in an instant, his low voice comforting and familiar. The way he tells you about his friends makes you like them before you’ve even met them.

By the time they get back, it’s nightfall. They’re soaked, droplets of water sliding from their hair and onto the linoleum floor in tiny rivulets, starting in tributaries at the hems of their shirts and turning into not so small waterfalls - you notice they’re all shivering slightly, the tips of their noses and their cheeks flushed scarlet. Pulling off his mask, Chan runs his fingers through his hair and slicks it back, dropping a stuffed backpack on the floor beside him, careful to avoid the quickly growing lake around his feet.

There’s the four you haven’t met yet gathered in a small huddle behind him. The handsome, tall guy must be who Felix described as Hyunjin - the artist who models on the side. He shakes the rain off him, droplets flicking from the ends of his messily tied black hair onto the younger man beside him. To their left, a shorter man laden with muscle removes his mask, revealing a cheery smile that makes his evident strength a little less intimidating.

Your eyebrows raise as Minho slaps the butt of the last of the new arrivals. You stay quiet.

Felix and Seungmin go to greet the others, and you remain sitting where you are, giving them some privacy. They speak quietly, though occasionally a bright laugh rings out, and you’re struck by how familiar they are with each other - Felix told you that they were lucky they were all together when the first horseman came, but you find it hard to believe they wouldn’t have found each other one way or another if they hadn’t been.

You catch flashes of damp skin and ivory grins as they wring out their clothes. Curious glances get sent your way until Chan peels off and sits beside you; you’re positive that nothing could hide the affection in his smile as he looks over at them.

“It’s a lot when you first see all of us together, huh?” he says, his voice confiding and bemused.

“A little,” you confirm. “But it’s nice, really. It’s good to hear laughter.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I can’t count how many times they’ve saved me. They’re family.”

You’re startled by Chan’s easy confession, enough so that all you can do is stare at him in shock, surprised to find that he looks relaxed, his eyes far away and his hair sticking out at all angles from where he’s rubbed it dry. Your brain takes that particular moment to note that he’s got a soft, inviting mouth - it compliments the sharpness of his nose well. Unfortunately, neither of those things is something you could respond with.

When the muscular one approaches, the other three behind him, you’re still scrambling for a reply. Eventually, your mouth, which had been previously hanging open like a trapdoor in effort to make a sound in answer to Chan, snaps shut and you send them a pleasant smile as they assemble awkwardly in front of you. Over their shoulders you can see Minho attacking the bags they brought with them, unpacking them with organised ferocity.

“I’m Hyunjin,” the artist-model announces, as you predicted. “Nice to meet you.”

“Jisung,” the one whose butt Minho slapped says. You notice his hair is slightly shaggy, curling around his reddened ears and at the nape of his neck, and he regards you with a neutral expression, as if he hasn’t formed his opinion on you yet.

“I’m Jeongin,” the youngest adds, and unsurprisingly, you can see the suspicion thinly veiled in his eyes.

Your gaze slides to the last one to introduce himself, the muscular one. According to Felix, he must be Changbin, who was in the army. The moment your eyes lock on his, a distant memory surfaces of you and a boy in the school library, hiding from the stern librarian and trying to stay quiet despite his infectious laughter. You almost don’t recognise him - not just because he’s gotten rid of that ridiculous bowl cut he had when you were thirteen, but because his frame has filled out with muscle.

God, it suits him.

You search his face for a flicker of recognition, for anything, but you find nothing. Unexpected disappointment slices through you - he doesn’t know you, either because he’s forgotten you or because he doesn’t care. Either way, you guess it doesn’t really matter who you were friends with when you were kids. It still hurts, anyways.

“Nice to meet you all,” you say once Changbin has introduced himself, trying to keep your voice bright and your eyes off him.

Though the lab is your space, you feel like an intruder as they talk among themselves. Even Felix has forsaken you, moving across the room to prod at Changbin’s arms as he pesters him about something or other, twin smiles brightening their faces.

You feel lost. You can’t help but question Chan’s motives again - you don’t belong with these men, nor does your presence benefit them in any way, and yet they still smile, unflappable despite the distrust you see in some of their gazes. It’s clear to you that Chan himself doesn’t trust you fully, either, but he seems to like you well enough.

The same can’t be said for Minho, though. Jisung is talking to him but you can feel his gaze pinning you down, watching you in a way that makes you want to sink into the ground below your feet.

There’s a warning in the sharpness of his glare: you hurt them, you die.

The more time you spend with them, the more you realise how tightly knit they are. They work as a unit to distribute the food for dinner (you receive a can of beans, cold, of course, and a stale granola bar) and to count up and evaluate the supplies they have left, with your additions from the convenience store; they pair up to share blankets when they decide it’s time to sleep while you get one all to yourself; and now that they’re all quiet, you’re half certain they’re breathing in sync, too.

It’s not even weird. You can tell that this harmony is what has helped them survive for so long, not only physically, but mentally too. Together they are self-sustaining, confiding in each other, falling into their separate roles without having to be asked: you get the sense that even the sleeping arrangements are non verbally premeditated, down to the Hello Kitty blanket Changbin and Felix are sharing.

They fit together like puzzle pieces. You’re not sure if there’s space for you.

If that concerns him, Chan doesn’t let it show. He beckoned you over to sleep beside him, which unfortunately meant that you also ended up next to Minho. That in itself seems like a precaution. You have no doubt that he’d happily incapacitate you before you could even start thinking about doing any funny business, if you read the look he gave you as he shuffled a little closer to Jisung well enough.

Thankfully, Chan’s half pointed towards Jeongin, enough so that he doesn’t have to stare at you as he falls asleep. After a while of staring vacantly at the spot just over his shoulder, you realise how pleasant it is to lie on and under blankets after over a week of slouching on the hard floor; they’re soft, and the one beneath you is slightly warm from Minho, which would be disconcerting if it didn’t feel so fucking nice.

Despite the knowledge that you’re in a room with eight other steadily, defiantly beating hearts, that you’re not the only living person left in the whole world, you find that your eyelids won’t droop closed.

Sighing heavily, you roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling. You’re reminded of the school trips you went on when you were younger, where you’d listen to everyone else’s breathing slow as they fell asleep, still up and wriggling about in your sleeping bag like a caterpillar ready to hatch.

At least back then, there wasn’t the looming possibility that you were the only person awake on the whole planet.

Careful not to hit either of the boys beside you, you squirm, shifting around in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. You’re just about to turn over again when you hear the blankets rustle, the sound of someone to your left getting to their feet and padding out of the lab interrupting the soft sound of the others’ breathing.

Instinctively, you shut your eyes, pretending to sleep. Your fingers tighten where they’re clenched in the blankets. You wait, counting fifty of Chan’s breaths before you get up and follow.

You’re entirely unsure of what you’ll find. You don’t bring a knife - you didn’t hear whoever left pause to take one, and if worst comes to worst, you have the taekwondo classes you took with Changbin, way back when.

Quietly, you ease open the door, stepping out into the corridor. You check the little kitchenette first, which is empty. Your boss’s office is the next closest, but you notice the communal room’s door is ajar, different from how you last left it - you’d been hoping closing it off would shut out the memories of the first horseman and his rictus grin.

Pushing it open, you realise with a jolt that whoever is within is crying: the only illumination within the small room is a splash of red tinted moonlight, but your eyes are adjusted enough that you can see the way he’s hunched over on the sofa, sniffling a little as sobs shake his shoulders. From the longish black hair, you’d guess it’s Hyunjin.

You know you should leave and give him privacy, but the night gives you bravery, as if the inability to see makes your lingering embarrassment exist a little less.

“Hey,” you say softly, coming round to sit beside him on the sofa.

Hyunjin tugs his sleeves over his hands so he can wipe his tears away. “Sorry, I must have woken you up.”

“Don’t worry, I was up already.”

You find that now you’ve bitten the bullet and decided to talk to him, no words reveal themselves to you. Telling him ‘it’s okay’ would be a blatant lie, and asking him if he’s alright would almost be worse; you can’t think of any better options, and frankly, you’ve always been a bit clumsy with your words.

Instead, you awkwardly hold your arms out. “Is it okay if I, uh - ”

Scrubbing at his eyes, he nods, his arms already wrapping tight around you before you can reach out for a cautious hug. Closing your eyes and resting your chin on his hair as he cries, you rub gentle circles on his back, holding him a little tighter when little sobs slip out from deep within his chest. You feel tears prick at your own eyes. There’s no guessing what aggrieves him, although with the current condition of the world he doesn’t really need any excuses for crying, but all the same, his vulnerability awes you.

A treacherous thought enters your mind: you could kill him now.

You could grab a knife, cut his throat, dump him somewhere outside the lab and claim he left and never returned. Logically, you could even take him as hostage and demand they hand over all their supplies and weapons, but you don’t. You can’t. In truth, you owe them.

Besides, you don’t want to stab Hyunjin, or strangle him or whatever violent thing a more pragmatic and heartless person would do - most likely, Minho would slaughter you if you did, anyway, and you wouldn’t blame him.

At least with these men, this little band of tight knit survivors, you won’t die alone.

In response to that realisation, you link your fingers with Hyunjin’s, smoothing a comforting thumb over his knuckles. A small smile raises the corners of your mouth as he sighs into your shoulder - albeit accompanied with a little sniffle - and you squeeze his hand tightly in a silent pledge: I’ll fight for this family as if it were my own, because I hope that one day it will be.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask abruptly, startled by the rude din of your own voice. “It’s okay if the answer’s no.”

“I… I think I do, if that’s okay,” Hyunjin replies, still with his face buried in your shoulder. “It’s nothing specific, really. I just miss the way things were, you know? And my family, and my dog, Kkami, and the dog before, Kkomi.” He shrugs. “Somehow I even miss just seeing people in the street. I wish I could go outside and get bumped this way and that by a crowd. I don’t even think I’d care if I got mugged or hit on. At least it’d be normal.”

You laugh but sober quickly. “I get that. Holy shit, I get that. Crazy how things changed so fast, huh?”

Hyunjin nods in agreement. “I can hardly remember the - ”

The door bursts open. Your heart lurches as you glimpse the lightning silver flash of a knife, and you jerk upwards on instinct, the coffee table toppling to the floor with a harsh clatter. It takes you half a moment to recognise the raging blur - his features are twisted with a savage, fearsome type of protective intent, his hair still mussed from sleeping.

Eyes blazing, Minho brandishes his knife as he zeroes in on Hyunjin. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin replies sheepishly. “I just didn’t want to wake anyone.”

Minho’s eyes soften, even as he rolls them. “All that fuss for nothing.”

Jeongin appears in the doorway. “I told you they’d be fine,” he grumbles. “You’re paranoid.”

“You gave me the knife,” he huffs. “Don’t act like you weren’t even a little bit concerned.”

Wiping his face, Hyunjin gets up, and you follow him back to the lab. The guys all squint up at you, expressions varying from wide eyed to amused. Chan sighs when he sees everyone is unscathed, half in relief and half in exasperation before promptly ordering everyone back to bed.

This time, you have no problems falling asleep.

taglist: @estella-novella @0bticeo @lixies-favorite-cookie @smashleywow @realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable (let me know if you want to be added)

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autismprotocol · 10 months ago

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Guys I made a discovery!! (Spoilers for EP 4 and EP 9 of Protocol)

I’ve been re-listening to all the current protocol episodes with my grandma over spring break (me and her have been listening to tma together for 2 years) and I think I noticed something that I haven’t seen anywhere else. In episode 4 when Augustus is reading the statement about the hunger violin, the statement mentions a few things the stranger has in is sack along with said violin

When I heard gamblers dice be read my jaw dropped to the floor!! there is no doubt this stranger was carrying around the dice from episode 9: Rolling with it. Because of this tie-in I think this strange trinket man will be a recurring avatar. My guess is he will take a similar rolls as Salesa, dealing in cursed artifacts that were gifted power by the entities.

Just in case it comes back here’s a list of all the stuff mentioned to be in the Trinket man’s sack

Battered knives

Chipped porcelain

Fine jewelry (this one is kind of vague tbh )

Ivory figures

I’m guessing because the dice are mentioned with extra emphasis, we won’t see anymore of the for mentioned items but you never know

I think we all need to be on the watch for The Trinket Man

#augustus tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp #tmagp theory #freddy tmagp #tmagp spoilers #tmagp 4 #tmagp 9 #rolling with it #taking notes

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evolutionsvoid · 15 days ago

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In a land of plentiful fluids, there is a great variety of life that thrive within them! Be it water, bile or blood, these fluid bodies are always a host to an incredible array of aquatic creatures!

1. Silt Snorter - A large bottom feeding fish with two mouths and iconic whiskers. They spend their lives down near the silt and muck, using their twin mouths to suck it up and filter food through their hairy gills. Their long whiskers help them keep their bearings when the silt is disturbed and the fluid is clouded. Growing to giant sizes, they are prized trophy fish, but not so great for eating. Their flesh is tainted by their mucky diet, but with the sheer quantity you can get from a single catch, no one wants to waste it, thus folk have developed recipes to help mask the flavor. Also a good source of sea snot.

2. Nailbiter - A keratin clad fish with a dexterous maw. They specialize in pulling prey from nooks and crevices, using their oral fingers to reach in and drag them out. With no actual biting or shearing teeth, they can only eat what can be swallowed whole. Their armored scales are tough but light, allowing them protection while not weighing them down. They are caught for their "fish fingers," a dish made from their oral digits. Legends like to say this fish came to be from a greedy fisherman who reached into the water for one too many fish and had the offending hand taken to replace what he stole.

3. Sperm Eel - An odd boneless fish known for its strange reproductive habits and milky nature. They live in riverside burrows, feeding on small invertebrates and floating bits. The species lives only long enough to reproduce once, as the viable adults congregate up river. When the time comes, these breeding fish straight up disintegrate into reproductive fluids, with the males becoming a cloud of sperm and the females a cloud of tiny eggs. Entire floats of white frothy egg masses form from this breeding session, creating thousands of larvae. This season can clog rivers with these rafts, but it is a bountiful moment for other species that come to feed. When it comes to fishing them, they must be caught and kept alive, as their bodies melt upon death. Though there is no meat to gain, they are used as a soup thickener and add a delightfully milky and salty flavor to a dish.

4. Syringefish - A parasitic fish of the rivers that targets larger piscines or wading beasts. Their single tooth is hollow and built for sucking Blood from prey. Typically look for sluggish fish to feed on, or disturbances from animals swimming. Will ram themselves into whatever flesh they can find and drink as much as they are able. Their stomachs can swell up to fit their meal, growing until they are practically sphere shaped. A pest to any who have to deal with them when wading through the river or trying to catch fish that don't have puncture wounds all over. At least good for a nice bloody snack for those who catch engorged ones.

5. Scabfish - Crimson in color and crusty in texture, they typically appear in bloody waters or in scarred regions. They rest upon the floor of the fluid body, waiting for prey to pass close for an ambush. Their rough scabby skin makes them unappealing to some predators, and make them quite abrasive to handle. Some seafolk may use their dried skin for sanding wood and ivory. Can also be used to make scab crackling.

6. Urolith Fish - A jagged fish that prefers to rest on the bottom rather than swim, using its wide fins to crawl in a way. Typically hides in tight spaces and uses ambush tactics to swallow prey. They are infamous for their spiny bodies. with nasty spikes that break off agonizing shards into those who touch them. Once inside the flesh, they are difficult to remove and are prone to breaking into smaller pieces. These fish serve as a reminder to watch your step when wading through the shallows. To be avoided and not eaten, as their meat reeks of urea. Some shady folk have found their spines good as debilitating knives, stabbed into victims to paralyze them with pain.

7. Mantinia - A colorful creature of chitin that slices through the water with its razor body. Its frontal appendage is designed for lashing out with blinding speed and snaring slippery prey in its barbed grasp. It lacks a true mouth, and instead uses its hollow spines on this "arm" to suck fluids from its prey. Its vivid coloration is believed to be used to win over mates. Despised by fisherman for stealing catches, cutting lines and shredding nets. Legends say that this fish came to life when a warrior surrendered his colorful chitin blade and gave it to the water.

8. Skullcracker - A powerful bulky fish known for its bony forehead and cracking teeth. They feed primarily on ivory corals and other hard-bodied prey, using a mouthful of broad teeth to shatter shells and armor. Their bulging forehead is solid and makes for a good weapon against predators and rivals. They make for dangerous catches, as they may ram the boat with their head or jump from the waters at inopportune times to concuss the unwary fisherman. They have gained this name for a reason.

9. Snot Shroud - A tiny fish that is capable of producing an incredible amount of Phlegm, they use it to surround their body in a false mass. This mucus sheath acts as a fake body and shield, allowing them to ward away parasites and survive predation. This sticky mass also collects food particles and tiny prey for the fish to feed upon. A potent producer of sea snot, and typically kept alive by seafolk on ships to churn out this marine Phlegm for medical purposes.

10. Searfish - A parasitic fish that possesses Yellow Bile and a nasty suction cup on its head. This structure is made to latch onto the sides of larger fish, where it then pumps the burning humor to melt through scale and flesh. The porous surface of this sucker allows it to absorb nutrients from its host, feeding on fluids and digested flesh. Typically target leviathans as their vast size allows them to shrug off these wounds. Circular scorch marks are the scars they leave behind, and some fisherman have found them on the bottom of their boats. If not deterred, they can scorch straight through the floor of a small canoe or boat, thus fisherman take steps to keep the burning buggers away.

11. False Floater - A seemingly rotting fish that plays a deceptive game. Their belly-up posture and patchy skin makes them look quite dead, but this fish is alive and well. A gas filled bladder suspends them in the water, while perfect stillness lures in scavengers. A multi-part jaw filled with needle teeth snares prey that comes to feed on this supposed corpse. Though they are not actually rotting, their meat is very pungent and slimy, thus is avoided when it comes to eating. Their dead appearance does lead to them being associated with the Mother of Snow.

12. Spiretail - A creature instantly recognizable due to their preference of hanging vertically and upside down in the water. They often hover just above the bottom, feeding on the small bits and critters that pass by. Sharp shards of Black Bile jut from their bodies, warding off predators. Often hang out in groups, gaining more protection through numbers. A bane to swimmers who accidentally swim through these schools, as such encounters guarantee several lacerations.

13. Cysthorse - A diseased looking fish that is actually filled with a burning toxin. Attempts to eat or touch them will result in these noxious boils to rupture and seep out this vile poison. Flesh that comes in contact with this fluid often winds up looking like the fish's unsightly skin. Avoided when it comes to fishing as one snared in a net may ruin both the net and the catch with its boiling fluids. Plus, they are associated with sickness, thus their appearance is an omen for future afflictions upon the catcher.

14. Sawtooth - A vicious fish with a killer overbite, they use their protruding blade of teeth to wound and shred prey. Appear to be solitary and not fans of their own kind, judging from the scars their hide often bears. They are a prized catch of any fisherman, though bringing them in without losing the line or a limb is difficult. Their upper jaws are often saved as trophies and turned into tools or weapons.

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Recently got and completed the fishing game Dredge and was inspired by it. So the obvious choice was to fill the fluid bodies of FOI with some fishies!

#fish #monster #creature #art #drawing #fall of ichor

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mostly-mundane-atla · 4 months ago

Note

I hope it's okay to ask about non-atla things

I'm doing research for a story that's basically an alternate history where Antarctica is populated similarly to the northern circumpolar regions. I'm having a bit of trouble with some of the logistics though, and I'm hoping you might have insights or suggestions?

In an environment without wood, and from what I can see no flint, how would one start a fire? And what fuel might be used to sustain it? (I know there's coal an oil, but I can't find anything that specifies if Antarctica has flint)

What sort of foods have the best protein/energy content for this kind of lifestyle? (physical and harsh) Am I right in assuming that animal fat/blubber would be a good source of this?

How would they craft tools? Like, how are knives and such traditionally crafted from bones and how would stones be incorporated? Also, in an environment without wood, how would they get the first hunting weapons? Would it be realistic for them to use something like slings?

How is meat traditionally prepared? Like, the drying and freezing and such. I've been trying to find more information on this, but can't really find anything that covers food preparation methods specifically.

If there's anything else you think is important to share please do! I'm trying to make this feel as realistic as possible, and since the Arctic and Antarctic are similar in environment I'm hoping to gain some insight of the general environment and certain cultural factors that are tied to a harsh/difficult environment

I hope I worded this all well

Another wonderfully formatted ask!

1. An environment without trees and bushes is not an environment without driftwood, and driftwood can be made into a bow drill. The spark could be sustained on rendered animal fats.

2. Fats are a great way to maintain energy required to survive in such a harsh environment, as are eggs from birds and fish Skin can also provide vitamin c to make up for the lack of fruit. This is why maktak is such a valued food in the far north.

3. Knapping and grinding an edge on to stones can make blades for knives, spears, and similar tools that can carve into ivory, bone, antler, driftwood, and other materials Bow drills can drill holes to allow tying and joins. Cordage and rope can be made of sinews or grasses, though i believe sinew is the more durable of the two materials. Slings make sense and so do bolas and harpoons. Also, for more domestic tools, needles can be made wing bones and shovels are can be made of large animals' shoulderblades.

4. Meat can be cut into thin strips and then dried on a rack, kept frozen, fermented in a pouch underground, or boiled in a pot carved from wood or skin pouch by heating rocks and placing them in the water.

I hope this covered everything. If you have anymore questions, please feel free to ask!

#response #eskimo on main

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angelstills · 2 years ago

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Scary Movie (2000)

#Scary Movie #2000s #2000 #film #nsft #Jon Abrahams #Anna Faris #Shawn Wayans #Keenen Ivory Wayans #guns //#gun //#knife //#knives //

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gatitties · 2 years ago

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Yandere!Bonten x black widow assassin!reader?

Just something that popped into my head, just imagine them in a club. One of them being a target of assassination but your target is the one who tryin to kill them. One second they are surrounded by gurls doing whatever. The next a ceiling from the floor above caves in and you have your target in a hopeless position. You leave with the target apologizing for the mishap!

─Yandere!Bonten x assassin!reader

─Summary: you were just doing your job, you don't need any more trouble chasing you in life

─Warnings: use of weapons, unwarranted obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

I apologize because I don't know how to describe fight scenes 😩🤚

Part Two / Part Three

You adjusted the belt around your waist, checking the chambers of your ebony and ivory pistols, full ammunition, checking that you had your concealed knives in place, along with the small spray cans and gas mask, you didn't used to have to use these last ones things, but you never know when you need a little help.

You take out your cell phone checking the message from the anonymous person who had hired you this time, one last look at the information you needed to know, you just had to make sure that another assassin did not kill your client's shareholders, although it did not expressly say that you should kill her, but if it was necessary to secure the lives of these men, was something you were going to do. Not for nothing were you quite well known in the underground world where contracts were agreed upon, you did your job quietly, leaving no clues and quite quickly, you offered good service and that's how you earned your living after your parents kicked you out of the house for being a nonsense in your studies, at least, you found a way to earn a living, more or less moral depending on who looks at it.

Usually you would take a more defensive position with a long-range sniper, but today you needed to blend in with the girls in a brothel, so you had to bring out another part of your arsenal, fancy clothes and accessories to your liking to look like someone rich.

It was not difficult to infiltrate as one of the workers, since they did not have a uniform as such, you located the round table of the men you had to protect, observing from afar how they interacted with the different girls who approached like bees to honey, wishing try something from them. You stood next to a guy at another table, following his dirty talk in a careless way while your attention was focused on another girl, you saw how her dress became baggier in certain areas of her body, areas that you recognized well to hide a weapon small caliber, luckily she excused herself to go to the bathroom, immediately forgetting your companion to follow her.

You waited in the restrooms, pretending to touch up your lipstick, you looked sideways when she came out of one of the bathrooms, noticing how the dress adjusted, revealing a knife attached to her thigh, you both exchanged glances, a small silence of tension and out of nowhere the two of you were fighting knife against knife.

"I knew that some whore was going to try to take my job today, those men are mine, I'll be the one to kill them."

She cut you on the cheek and you immediately kicked her, her defensive posture wavered for a few moments but she recovered, the fight reached the second floor where there was no one, since there only had furniture or old things from decor.

"You're wrong, they are not my targets."

You cut her forearm causing her to move back, anticipating her movements you hid behind a sofa, she now pointed her pistol towards your position without being able to hit you, you threw your knife as a distraction to be able to aim with your guns, but the girl reacted quickly at the stimulus, you groaned internally as a bullet grazed your arm but you began to move quickly between the different pieces of furniture.

It was like that for a while, playing tense cat and mouse, you managed to hurt her enough to make her movements much slower, but you needed to make your dominance clear, you took cover behind a pile of stacked boxes, your eyes caught a small crack in the floor, you looked up seeing some old wooden beams, that was it.

You forced the girl out of her hiding place, continuing the fight physically, again wielding bladed weapons, you lured her to the center of the room, managing to kick her to drop her weapons, before she could draw another one, you shot into the rafters and everything fell on top of both of you, the floor collapsed, consequently falling to the first floor, right in front of the table where Bonten observed how two female figures were on top of all that rubble.

The chaos had made the vast majority of people flee, they took their hands to their guns in case something unforeseen happened, however they watched in silence the interaction.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I give up, I'll quit the job, but don't kill me! I just needed the money to get my family up, please! Please…!"

Your finger brushed the trigger of your pistol that was pointed directly at her forehead, you looked at her in silence for a few seconds before slowly lowering the gun, her eyes began to water, and immediately she pushed you to run.

"My mission wasn't to kill you anyway… oh shit!" you brushed off the rubble and dust, looking around as a couple of waitresses looked at you horrified, your breathing calmed once you saw the Bonten executives safe and sound, you didn't think very well that destroying the ceiling could have crushed them, but luckily nothing fell on their table "Ok, job done… sorry for the mess."

As if you had known them all your life, you apologized for a little nonsense, and you were going to leave immediately because you needed a rest and your money, but apparently someone did not have the same thoughts.

"Who the hell are you?"

Sanzu gripped your wrist tightly, glancing at the pistols that were now visible because your clothing had been torn in places, a small smile tugging at his lips at seeing your unfazed gaze.

"It's none of your business."

You tugged at his grip to break free of it, but he tightened it causing a wince on your face, the others slowly approached to your side, Mikey watching silently as your wince turned into one of impatience and disgust.

"It is our business, you have destroyed our brothel."

"And you intend to leave like that as if nothing had happened? It's disrespectful lady."

The Haitani brothers stepped forward, Ran pointing out all the damage from the collapse while Rin crossed his arms, inspecting your face and every detail of it.

"I'm not a lady..." they all began to look at each other, giving you glances from time to time, observing your body and arguing in silence "or am I?"

You raised your leg hitting Sanzu's abdomen, he stepped back as did you, although Kakucho blocked your next attack he couldn't catch you again because he had to dodge one of your hidden blades.

"Catch her!"

"I'm sorry! I have places to be, I hope we don't meet again, maybe it means bad news."

You sprayed them with a shit-eating smile when you saw how they rubbed their eyes trying to hold back the tears from the burning, when they wanted to realize you were already a long way from there, looking for the place where they had hidden the money for the completed order.

"Have you seen her movements, damn, I think I've-"

"Cut it Sanzu, we don't want to know about your sexual fantasies."

"Always so boring Kokonoi."

"Who was her anyway?"

Mochizuki, finished wiping his eyes once they stopped watering, Takeomi answered even though his eyes kept looking at the exit through which you fled.

"She was a contract killer, apparently a good one."

"I want her."

"Huh?"

They all looked at his leader, his gaze of emptiness had a slight glimmer of desire, as if he were a child who had found a better toy than he already had, a new toy to play with and smash. You were good at your job, weren't you? He needed to get rid of a few useless ones, and he wanted you to be the one to do that job.

You unintentionally triggered an obsession in the leader of one of the worst mafias in Tokyo, no matter how slippery you are, no matter how many times you change your identity, nothing matters because now you are something he wants and Mikey always gets what he wants. His obsession with you at first was something that happened as a 'boss whim', however, the more difficult the search for you became, the others also began to become obsessed for no reason.

A long game of cat and mouse awaits you, because now these guys need to know more about you, they need to see you, they need to have you, even though they barely shared a measly moment with you, it was enough to obsess over an image of you that they held within their minds. Do you think you can escape? don't be silly.

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