#Now I just need a replica revolver.

[chronicas]

Bitches love my brand new replica flintlock pistol

[marticoresims]

Townieville!

A little project that was supposed to be just for fun, but felt so cool I decided to give it a little more character, make it CC-free and share it.

I adore the original townies of the base game. At some point I noticed that some of the adults share similarities with teens and kids - so I figured out how to merge them into whole families, based on their shared face templates, genetics and/or last names. Sadly, some last names were lost in the process, so I kept a few of them alive in street names.

DOWNLOAD (SFS)

And there are two things that annoy me about this town. First, FIVE (5) Sims use the 7th face template (Marylena, Melissa, teen Ivy, Orlando and Chandler). Second, the names Ivy and Orlando are doubled. But well, they're townies originally!

There are 12 families, that's quite a lot for a starting neighborhood, but many of them are single Sims (often single parents), so they have the potential to merge.

The families:

Bendett-LeTourneau Marisa Bendett and her daughters Sophie and Meadow, Brandi LeTourneau and her kids Alvin and Chloe.

GilsCarbo Goopy GilsCarbo is married to Marylena Hamilton (now GilsCarbo) and they have a teenage daughter named Ivy.

Cox Kennedy, Melissa and their two sons: Orlando and Chandler. They own a dog named Otis. Chandler is not Kennedy's biological son, see Melissa's memories for details.

Copur Ivy Copur and her roommate Abhijeet Deppiesse.

Tellerman Jan living alone, next door to her brother Komei.

Tellerman Komei, Christy and their daughter Brittany. There's a new baby on the way!

Centowski Orlando and Ricky living alone as teenagers after both their parents passed away.

Sims Benjamin Cox (Kennedy's brother), his fiancé Amin Sims, and their cat Heidi.

Sims Joe Sims (Amin's brother) and his daughter Marsha.

Lillard Brandon and his a lot younger sister Tosha.

Hogan Andrea and her teenage son Randy.

Bruty Sandy.

Other population notes: Anything other than the Pleasantview game folder has been cleared out of character files, so there are no vanilla pets, social groups, garden club members etc. All service Sims are Maxis because they belong in the Pleasantview folder. The only typically Maxis pets are Otis and Heidi that are replicas of the original adoption pool pets made in CAS. Other than that, if you call the adoption center, the game will spawn brand new strays and pets to adopt (NoStrayRespawn will prevent it). So don't panic if your game freezes for a few seconds! The only dog that already exists is a beta wolf named Bob. The alpha wolf is also to be generated and his name will probably be Balin. Since the townies are now playables, I made a few townie children, teens and adults. They are CAS Bin Sims. There's also the founder Sim that I needed as the first playable to spawn all the townies on the lot (his name is Deighton Freeman) and Nerissa Bee who's supposed to be the clothing store owner. This neighborhood has no subhoods. Feel free to add them if needed.

Genetics I fixed all "dyed hair" genetics, so e.g. Brandi LeTourneau now has brown hair genetically. I also gave everyone recessive genes, so they're not homozygous.

Townieville landscape: Made on the Sedona map but in lush, the town gives (as one of my viewers pointed out) the Blue Ridge Mountains vibe! So it could be located in North Carolina or Virginia.

All the houses are Maxis, just furnished by me. Some of them have been reconstructed on the inside so the families have enough space. Four families live in an apartment building that I built from scratch.

There are many needed community lots: a town pool, a clothing store, a convenience store, a game arcade, a tiny bistro, a park, a graveyard. Some of them are built by me and some are Maxis lots from the bin (often edited by me). There's also a lake beach on the hill, close to the Sims family.

The town revolves around a big hospital building where Brandi and Marisa work as doctors.

VERSION 2!!! Townieville's download has been updated. I edited some Sims' age* and gave them fewer skills (looked more closely into all Sims in that matter). Also the Hogan family didn't have a phone and a working kitchen counter because duhh. If you haven't started playing yet before 30 Sep 2024, I recommend redownloading! Actually, 17 October is the PROPER download. On 30 Sep I uploaded my already played neighborhood due to confusing folders 😅

*at first, I managed their age according to my custom lifespan, but then decided to go all Maxis, especially that it looked as if some Sims weren't aging (they were, but the age display didn't show any progress because it can only go so far as 29 days away).

DOWNLOAD (SFS)

Hope you like it! Happy Simming!

Credits: SimsWiki, because the hell would I remember everyone's eye color lmao

[faramirsonofgondor]

TBH the 9-1-1 writers NEED to bring back the Buddie angst… like it feels like it’s been so long since one of them has been crushed by a firetruck, or buried alive, or struck by lightning, or shot in broad daylight, or caught in a tsunami, or got taken hostage, or had a pulmonary embolism… like now it’s just “oh here’s a replica of my dead wife that i can cheat on my girlfriend with” this and “im bisexual which is why i sprained your ankle” that. like give me my dramatic life-threatening injuries, clawing at the dirt, screaming each others names, defying all logic buddie back fr. i’ll even take the “im yelling at you in a grocery store after i got arrested because you’re being a dead beat to our son” era. like i just love it too much when the drama revolves around both of them instead of them having their separate issues. like don’t get me wrong i love some of the fluffier buddie moments in s7, but i want their dramatics for each other when the other is injured. there’s just something so 😩 about it.

[atlabeth]

i’m your gal — jesper fahey

summary: two durasts in the barrel, one a sharpshooter and one a gunsmith. blackmail’s really the only answer, isn’t it?

a/n: blackmail is love in the barrel i guess. also fun fact: i started this before i even started six of crows because i guess i think i don’t need to know the source material that i write fic for anymore but now ive read both soc and ck so im good

wc: 3.7k

warning(s): fem!reader, blackmail obviously. guns, talks of death, constant threats, questionable romantic tactics. kaz hates everything

You were roused from an unpleasant bout of sleep by knocking—slamming, rather—against your door. You frowned as you rubbed your eyes and stood up from your chair.

You had to stop falling asleep at your desk, you thought sourly as you walked through the narrow hallway to your “front door”. When you opened it, you weren’t surprised by what you saw.

“Fahey,” you said flatly. “I assume you’re here—”

“For my gun,” he said, pushing past you to get inside. “Yes, that would be right. Shoddy service that it took you all this time to get here.”

You scowled as you shut the door and followed him. “My hours haven’t even started, azel. You’re lucky I’ve even let you in—I should charge you double the kruge for your nerve.”

“Yeah, but you can’t deny your handsomest customer.” He winked at you, and you rolled your eyes as you pushed open the door to your office. At least he had the decency to wait for that.

“My most annoying customer,” you corrected. “Tell me, do you get your nerve from Novyi Zem or the Wandering Isle?” 

“Neither,” he said, his hand resting on his holster as he, per course, refused to take a seat. “It’s all homegrown by yours truly.” 

“How lovely,” you said wryly. You took a seat at your pathetic excuse of a desk and stared at him. “Do you have the rest of my money?” 

“As if I would walk in here without all my payment,” Jesper said. He pulled out a few wads of bundled up kruge, and you raised an eyebrow as you took them. You pulled the bands off and began to count, not bothering to look up at him as you spoke. 

“How much of this did you gamble away before today?” you asked. “If it’s honestly all here, then you’ll have surprised me, Fahey.” 

Jesper pressed a hand to his heart. “You wound me. Of course it’s all there.” 

“Forgive me for my assumptions,” you said wryly. “Your reputation just precedes you.”

“These guns are more important than my life,” said Jesper, and you couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking. “The money’s all there.”

You finished counting—it really was all there, though the differing amounts of wear and grime on the bills showed he had in fact won some of it back—and you chuckled. “Congratulations. You’ve managed not to be a thief for one day.” 

“That wounds me further,” Jesper commented, and he crossed his arms. “Now, I’d like to see my pistols, new and old. It’s been very difficult living without them these past few weeks.” 

“My work doesn’t come cheap, Fahey,” you said as you knelt down, “and it doesn’t come quick either.” 

You pulled your knife out of its sheath and pried up the floorboard from underneath the spot your chair usually was, then turned the lock back and forth until your safe opened. You pulled out the guns and set them on your desk, standing back up as you shut the safe with the heel of your boot. 

“Well,” you said, “what do you think?” 

You could have sworn he went a little teary-eyed, and you couldn’t help but smile.

When Jesper Fahey, sharpshooter for the Dregs and well-known for his ability to gamble away his life’s savings in a night, nearly toppled your door from his amount of knocking, you had half a mind to turn him away. But his Fabrikator-made, Zemeni revolvers were almost as beautiful as him, and when he offered to pay you a whole lot of kruge to make an exact replica, you could hardly turn it down. 

He carried twin revolvers everywhere he went, but apparently, during a heist gone wrong, one of the twins was fatally wounded. Jesper himself was a Durast, but he told you he wasn’t nearly skilled enough to bring it back to life. Word had spread of your abilities—a little more than you’d have liked, if you were being honest—and he found his way to your door. It took a lot of convincing to get him to leave the other with you so you could make a true replica, and you could tell every step taken without them at his side hurt. 

He picked up the pistol you’d made. He held it up to the light, knocked his knuckles against it, looked at it from every angle possible, then held up his other one and looked at it in comparison from every angle possible. Jesper spun out the barrel, clicked it back in, and did the same thing a few more times until he looked at you and grinned. 

“She’s beautiful,” Jesper whispered, and he tucked them into his holsters. A weight visibly lifted off his shoulders, and the electric energy that always buzzed around him seemed to dissipate some. “How do you do it? How did you get it exactly the same? Even the pearls— the damn sheen is the same.” 

You shrugged. “It’s my job. I’m good at it.” 

He shook his head. “I could kiss you right now. You’re incredible.” 

“You’re pretty, Fahey, but you’re annoying.” You smiled. “Let’s stick to business.” 

“How are you not indentured by now?” he asked incredulously. “Surely some merch has gotten their claws in you.” 

“I told you,” you said with a slight smile, “I’m good at my job. And my job includes staying independent.” 

“Surely everyone knows you’re Grisha by now,” said Jesper. 

You shrugged. “No one can prove anything. And if you say a word,” you looked at his guns, “I’ll give them a slow death.” 

Jesper’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

You offered another pleasant smile. “Get out of my office, Fahey.” 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” called Jesper as he walked out, a hand held up in parting as he left you with a wink.

You just huffed a laugh and shook your head. One credit to Ketterdam was that you were never bored. 

-

“Kaz,” Jesper begged, “please.”

“Absolutely not,” he stated. “We don’t have the resources.”

“She is the resources!” he exclaimed. “She’s a Durast, and she makes the best weapons I’ve ever seen. Besides, she doesn’t have to be part of your circle—she’ll do fine as a plain old Dreg, or even just a supplier.”

“You’re a Durast,” Kaz said coldly. “Can you not do exactly what she does?”

“No,” Jesper insisted, “nobody can. She makes a living off of selling her Grisha weapons because they’re unmatched by anyone else’s.”

“I’m aware,” he said. “I’ve been keeping tabs on her ever since she sold her first weapon in the Barrel. She hasn’t encroached on our territory, so I’ve let her be.” 

“So you know everything she can do,” Jesper said. “Even more reason to hire her.” 

“I don’t see why you don’t just improve your abilities.”

“I don’t know, Kaz,” he said, making a mockery of his words, “I might just be trying to avoid earning an indenture.”

“She’s not indentured,” Kaz pointed out. 

“Because nobody knows that they’re Grisha weapons, not for sure, besides me.”

“I know,” said Kaz. 

“You know everything,” Jesper grumbled. “And any other person in the Barrel who has experience with Fabrikator weapons, I suppose, but that’s not the point.” Jesper’s eyes glistened. “There are a whole lot of suspicions floating around. And that’s how we get her.”

“…You’re suggesting we blackmail her,” Kaz said, and he leaned back in his chair. 

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” Jesper said, “but, uh—yes.” He cleared his throat. “We would be blackmailing her.”

“Go on,” he said. 

“It’s pretty simple,” Jesper shrugged. “She works for us for a reduced rate, we promise not to throw her to the wolves. You get to keep most of your kruge, she gets to keep her life and most of her independence, and we get the best weapons on this side of the True Sea for the Dregs.”

“Interesting.” Kaz glanced down at his papers then back at Jesper. “Anything else?”

His eyes glinted. “I saw Pekka Rollins outside her building the other day. I’ve heard through some circles that he secretly commissioned a few weapons from her—my bet is that he was testing her goods, and now he wants her permanently on his side.”

Kaz’s jaw clenched. Thank the Saints for his grudge, because it would make this a lot easier. 

“Talk to Inej and Nina. See if they know anything I don’t.” Highly unlikely, Jesper wanted to say, seeing as Dirtyhands knew everything that went on in the Barrel, but he nodded. “If you’re lucky, we’ll pay her a visit tonight.”

“You’re actually agreeing with me,” Jesper marveled. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Kaz scowled. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I would never.” Jesper grinned, already starting to back towards the door. “You’d better prepare for a midnight escapade.”

He didn’t wait for a response—likely that he wouldn’t get one anyway—and shut the door with a sigh behind him. Jesper practically flew down the stairs, never so thankful for the rarity that was both Nina and Inej idling. They were sat at the bar together conversing, and without much care for it all, Jesper slid in next to them. 

“What an entrance,” remarked Inej. 

“I know how to make them,” he said, “but we tragically don’t have time to talk about my greatness. What do you two know about the gunsmith near the Exchange?” 

“Above the bakery?” Nina asked. Jesper nodded, and she grinned. “The Grisha Gunsmith. She’s playing a dangerous game.” 

Inej frowned. “How do you know?”

Jesper glanced at her. “You didn’t know?” 

“Of course I know.” Inej sounded almost offended. “I just wanted to know how you know.” 

“I can just sense it,” she said. “Maybe it’s a Heartrender thing.”

“It is not a Heartrender thing,” Jesper scoffed. “I know about her and I’m not a Heartrender.”

“I believe Nina,” Inej said, and Jesper groaned.

“You are all impossible, do you know that?”

Nina laughed and she held up a hand. “Alright. Yes, I know she’s Grisha, and we’re decently acquainted. Most of the Grisha in Ketterdam know each other—we pass things along, try and keep each other safe.” 

“So?” Jesper leaned forward. “Have you got anything?” 

“She was born in Ketterdam. Had a brief spout at the university before she dropped out, and then she decided to make a living in the Barrel.” She shrugged. “At least, that’s what she’s told me.” 

“That’s why she seems so familiar!” Jesper exclaimed. “We had a class together! I hardly remember what it was, but it’s not like it really matters now, but still—dropping out of university to recklessly sell weapons.” He couldn’t help but smile. “Truly a woman after my own heart.” He then turned to Inej. “What have you, Wraith?” 

“All of that is true,” Inej said, inclining her head. “She’s been making weapons since her university days, and she’s done freelance work for a lot of gangs over the years. The Razorgulls seem to favor her, but Pekka Rollins and his Dime Lions seem to like her too, especially as of late.” 

“Interesting, interesting.” Jesper nodded a few times. “Very interesting. At least I was right on the Rollins front.” 

“I’ve also seen her around West Stave doing work,” Inej said. Usually her lip curled when she spoke of the canal, but instead there was a glint in her eye. “She slips weapons to girls who need it most.”

Jesper nodded, and he held Inej’s gaze for a moment longer. “Admirable.”  

“Why are you so interested in this anyway?” Nina asked. “Seems a lot more trouble than it’s worth.” 

“I want her on our team,” he said. “She’s brilliant. I only have until tonight to convince Kaz this is a worthy investment, and I convince him by convincing you.”

“Then convince us, Fahey,” Nina said with a smile.

“Our dear Wraith.” He clasped his hands together in front of Inej and he saw the mirth spark in her eyes. “How would you feel if your knives could never break?”

“They don’t break in the first place,” she said.

“But if they did,” Jesper said, “she could fix them.”

“Couldn’t you just do it?” she asked.

Jesper groaned and pulled back. “Why does everyone think I can do what she does just because I’m a Fabrikator too?”

“…I have seen some of her weapons,” Nina said. “They’re near indestructible. I’ve heard she makes her bullets too.”

“She does,” Jesper said, giddy like a little kid as he pulled out one of his pistols and set it on the table. “This is Ace made, and it’s the best damn thing I’ve ever held. Doesn’t it look exactly like my old one?”

Nina studied it, reaching out a hand that was then receded with the look Jesper gave her. “Very much like it.”

Inej, rather, cocked an eyebrow. “‘Ace made’?”

“That’s what she goes by,” he said. “Y’know, ‘ace shooter’ and all?”

“Nobody calls her that in the Barrel,” Nina said, a grin forming as she crossed her arms. 

Jesper shrugged defensively. “I do. It’s catchier than the Grisha Gunsmith, and it doesn’t expose her.” 

Nina leaned forward, that glint in her eye that Jesper didn’t exactly like. “Your heart is beating pretty fast for talk about guns and catchy nicknames.”

“Ah,” Inej nodded, “that’s why you want her to join us so badly.”

“I want her to be on our side because she makes incredible weapons,” huffed Jesper, “and because I certainly don’t want her as an enemy.”

“And because you think she’s beautiful,” Nina cooed. 

“Which is not a crime,” Jesper defended. “So what? You flirt with anything that moves, Nina.”

She tipped her shoulder. “Fair.”

“I think getting her on our side is smart,” Inej said. “She deals a lot of quality weapons to a lot of gangs—funneling that straight to the Dregs would be of aid.” 

“Thank you, Inej,” Jesper said solemnly. “Kaz holds your opinion much higher than any of ours.” 

She glanced away, though the smallest smile curled on her lips. Nina grinned and nodded to Jesper. 

“Good luck with all this,” Nina said. “I hope the blackmail doesn’t ruin your relationship too much.” 

“This is the Barrel,” said Jesper. “Blackmail is practically flirting.” 

“Saints, Jesper,” Nina muttered. “It really isn’t.” 

-

Jesper had to admit, he did feel the slightest bit of guilt as he stood in front of your front door—rather, the door to the shoddy space you rented out above a bakery—Bastard of the Barrel next to him. Just this morning, you saved him from a fate worse than death and replicated his revolver with Fabrikator perfection he’d previously thought impossible. 

And now, he was thanking you by getting you stuck with the Dregs. 

Maybe blackmail didn’t pass as flirting, but it was just as common in the Barrel. It wasn’t something to make himself feel better, it was the truth—no matter how good you were, sooner or later, you would get caught up in a mess you couldn’t get out of. This was the smartest option.

Thankfully, he didn’t have time to revel in his thoughts for much longer as the door was opened, and you were remarkably poor at hiding your surprise. You looked a bit of a mess, and Jesper figured they were your rude awakening. You were still beautiful as ever, and he allowed a moment to take you in. 

“Gentlemen,” you said levelly, staring at both of them. Jesper couldn’t remember the last time he’d been referred to as a gentleman—the word was probably foreign to Kaz. “What brings you back—” you glared at Jesper— “to my door at this hour?” 

“A business offer.” Kaz looked every bit the intimidator and he wasn’t even trying. He was just standing there, gloved hands resting on the crow head of his cane, as he spoke with that coal rasp of a voice. “It would be smart to let us in.” 

Maybe you were better at hiding your surprise than Jesper thought, because your expression remained as still as your voice as you stepped aside and let them both in. Jesper noticed you locked the door behind them. He didn’t know what use you thought that would be, but he understood—petty comforts were still comforts. 

“Kaz Brekker,” you said, coming to a stop behind your desk. Your poster was a whole lot stiffer, tone much more restrained. “I never thought I would see you at my door. How’s your cane working for you?” 

“I don’t need a replacement,” he said. 

You hummed. “Good. I don’t much like crows.” 

“Pity,” said Kaz. Jesper swallowed, fingers tapping nervously on his revolvers. He spent so much time around Kaz, he almost forgot what it was like for those that weren’t used to him. The man was terrifying when you didn’t know he wouldn’t kill you. 

“Kvas?” you asked, holding the bottle up. Both of them shook their heads. You shrugged and poured a bit more in your glass.

“Remind you of home?” Jesper asked.

You huffed a laugh. “You could say that. Now, what do you two want?”

“Your service,” Kaz said. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You, or the Dregs?” 

“Both,” he answered. 

The gesture turned to a frown. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“We want you to work with us,” Jesper translated. “We want you to be a Dreg.” 

Your eyes flashed with something he couldn’t fully place. “And where is this coming from, Fahey?” 

He shrugged. “We could use your skills.” 

“My skills have been around for a while,” you said. You pulled out your knife from its sheath, and Jesper’s skin felt very fragile all of a sudden. He was very thankful when you instead started twirling it between your fingers. “Your intimate knowledge of my skills has only been around since this morning.” 

“I’ve been aware of you since you first settled in the Barrel,” Kaz corrected, and he tapped his cane on the floor. “Since the moment you made your first payment on this wreck.”

“Of course,” you said wryly. “Did you know that I promised his guns a very slow death if he spread word of me?” 

“His guns will remain unharmed,” Kaz said. “I can’t have a sharpshooter without pistols. And I can’t have a gunsmith without hands.” 

Your burning gaze turned to Jesper. He almost took a step back from the force of it. 

“I’m not stupid, gentlemen,” you said after a moment of angry staring. “I hear what they say about me, about the rumored Grisha gunsmith. I’ve managed to avoid an indenture by equal parts smarts and luck, but I have backroads—I can leave Ketterdam, Kerch as a whole, overnight if I have to. You don’t get to this place without being able to disappear.”

“You’ll find the Dregs are quite organized,” said Kaz, “and quite experienced at bringing our competition down. In spite of backroads.”

“Ah,” you said flatly, staring at the wall as you continued to play with your blade. “This is a threat.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Jesper shrugged. “You work with us, nobody will have confirmation that you’re Grisha. And if anyone tries anything with you, you’ll be protected.”

“And if I don’t?” you asked lazily.

“You’ll end up indentured to some lecher or dead on the streets within a week,” Kaz said. 

Your lips twisted into a smile, which Jesper assumed was more of a facade than anything. “I love dealing with you Dregs. Straight to the point.”

“It’s a better deal than anyone else would give you,” Jesper said. 

“You come in here, threaten me and my business, and ask me to work for you for free?” You laughed sharply, stabbing the blade you’d been twirling across your fingers into the wood of your desk. “You’ve got some nerve, Dirtyhands.”

“It’s a simple choice,” he said, gloved fingers running down the head of his cane. “I assume you’re intelligent enough to make the right one.”

“And it’s not exactly for free,” Jesper added. “You’ll get a base rate from Per Haskell. And you can still take commissions from anybody so long as they’re allied with us.”

“So you’re telling me no more special orders for Mister Rollins,” you said wryly, eyes narrowed on Kaz.

Nothing in his expression changed, though the rasp of his voice became a bit rougher. “No. And I expect a detailed summary of all the work you’ve ever done for the Dime Lions.”

You huffed as you pulled the blade out. “I always thought I’d end up floating in the harbour or indentured to some councilman before I ended up working for the Bastard of the Barrel.”

“It’s not all bad,” said Jesper with a shrug. “We’re quite good company, if I say so myself.”

Your eyes trailed over to his forearm, his rolled up sleeve revealing the ink of the Dregs. “When do you mark me?”

“After you sign the contract,” Kaz said. 

“It’ll be extra protection,” Jesper said. “Another bonus. Much less likely to get nabbed off the street if you’ve got the Dregs on your arm.”

You stared at both of them for a good, long moment, hardened eyes narrowing in. Jesper could only guess at what was running through your mind at the moment. He knew he was thinking of how attractive you were when you looked like you wanted to drive that knife through both their hearts. 

“I’ll be paid enough that I won’t lose this place,” you finally said.

Kaz nodded.

“And I’ll still be able to make a living through commissions to those allied with the Dregs.”

“To your heart’s content,” Jesper confirmed. 

“I want you to do the tattoo,” you said, looking straight at Jesper. “You’re obviously the one that got me into this mess, so you might as well solidify it.” 

Jesper shifted uneasily. He hoped you would renege on your promise of a slow death. “Right.”

Again, you stared at them. And then you sighed heavily, plucked the knife off the table, and shoved it in its sheath. 

“I guess I’m your gal, then.” You threw back your glass of kvas, standing and offering a charming smile. “I hope you’ve got room for two Durasts, Mister Brekker. Otherwise, you’re the one that’ll be out on the street, pretty boy.”

Jesper’s eyes twinkled. “You think I’m pretty?”

“And far too annoying for your own good.”

He grinned. “You think I’m pretty.” 

And the slight upturn of your lips was worth Kaz’s incredulous scoffs. 

[avaantares]

Wait, Zhao Yunlan's gun is actually a...?!

(I've never claimed production meta for @guardianbingo before, but after the amount of time and research I put in on this, I feel like I've earned the "Zhao Yunlan's Gun or Whip" square, haha)

SO. GUYS.

Maybe this is something fandom as a whole figured out back in 2018, but I, who didn't hear of Guardian until 2020, did not realize until now and I need to share the knowledge because when I finally noticed, I made an unholy sound.

I've tracked down where Zhao Yunlan's gun came from -- or at least, what it most likely started as. Not the in-universe dark-energy-maybe-uses-bullets-maybe-doesn't-device-that's-best-not-thought-about-too-long, but rather the actual fake-steampunk-revolver-that-is-best-not-looked-at-too-long-because-it's-awful prop.

Y'know, this disaster:

I was actually working on a different Guardian Bingo fill and needed to look something up for continuity, so I'd flipped through a couple of episodes at super high speed trying to find a scene. As luck would have it, one of my skips forward happened to land on the scene I screencapped above, when ZYL confronts Zhang Shi.

Normally we don't get this clear (or this stationary) a shot of the godawful gun prop. I'd assumed all along they had just taken a plastic gun, glued some extra bits and bobs on it to make it look fancy, and hit it with some dry brushing (fun fact: you can watch the paint flake throughout the series; check out the top of the barrel and the side of the cylinder in the above screenshot!) to make it look #steampunk like the abandoned aesthetic of 25% of the show (as I've said before, I have theories about what happened in preproduction, but that's another post). This sort of thing is exactly what I've done for cheap cosplay weapons or background props for film work that aren't going to be seen at HD detail range.

Anyway, since the detail showed up better here than in other shots, I paused the video to look at the random screws and hex bolts (why??) they'd glued on it, since I recalled that I had the aforementioned gun/whip bingo square to fill.

That's when I noticed a detail that had eluded me before: An inverted V shape at the bottom of the grip.

Only looking more closely, that's not an inverted V. It's a symbol that I've seen a whole series of variations of over the past 15+ years... every time there's a new installment of the Assassin's Creed video game series:

So I started hunting. The principal weapons in each game turned up no matches, but eventually I found a gun that looks almost exactly like ZYL's:

It's not a perfect replica, but the details are certainly all there: The stylized logo; the leaves and swirls on the grip; the feathers up the back; even the Victorian scrollwork beneath the barrel.

Now, what's really interesting is that this gun isn't actually from the AC game series. It's part of an elaborate fan project by artist David Paget that started as a class assignment back in 2014. Even though it gathered a bit of steam in the AC fandom and generated a couple of forum role-play groups, OCs and the like, nothing about this artwork was ever connected to a real Assassin's Creed title. So why would there be a physical version of a gun that was only someone's fanart?

This is where the smoking gun (*rimshot*) goes missing, because I can't prove any of this, and it's been long enough that digging through the archives of the internet to find answers is going to take way more time than I can afford to spend on a project I'm not getting paid for. But there are two likely possibilities:

Scenario A: Some employee in a toy factory somewhere in China got told, "This Assassin's Creed franchise is really big, so we need to be producing replicas from those games to sell. Work up some designs." So the employee Googles "assassin's creed gun," finds David Paget's very professional-looking art, and whips up a replica to mass-injection-mold without realizing it's not actually from a game. Later, someone on the cash-strapped Guardian production team needs a gun to mod, and finds a cheap toy revolver on clearance after several years of sitting in storage because there was little demand for a replica of a gun that was never in a game. They buy several, glue hex bolts on the cylinder for reasons unknown, and poof! Instant pseudo-steampunk!

Scenario B: Other fans were involved in the design. Someone did build a 3D model of David Paget's design that's still available on Sketchfab (screenshot below), and it's not unreasonable to assume that other fans could have thought it looked cool and built 3D printable models. Later, someone on the cash-strapped Guardian production team needs a gun to mod, and acquires the 3D print file of one of those models from the interwebs. They mod the file a bit, print some, glue hex bolts on the cylinder for reasons unknown, and poof! Instant pseudo-steampunk!

Personally, I find Scenario A far more likely than Scenario B, for two reasons: First, the hero prop looks more injection molded than 3D printed, especially given the technical state of 3D printing back in 2017-8. And second... Budget-challenged dramas do have a history of picking up bulk video game replicas and using them as cheap props. I made a post back in 2019 about the WoW Horde shields we spotted in a different drama...

Anyway, no firm answers about the source of the hero prop -- the world may never know! -- but we have now confirmed that in some alternate universe (possibly one of the first eighty?), Zhao Yunlan and/or Zhao Xinci is an Assassin.

Wait, wait, wait... *recalls mechanics of how the whole Assassin's Creed frame story is supposed to work* Uh... so... who wants to write a genetic memory explanation for the whole Kunlun -> [lots of lifetimes] -> Zhao Yunlan thing?

.

(I did actually check the catalogue of a friend of mine who makes replicas of props from various media franchises to see if he'd done a commission of the David Paget design, since a surprising number of his custom pieces actually do end up on film and television, but while he has a gorgeous replica of a revolver that actually appears in an AC game, it appears he has not done the Zhao Yunlan gun. I didn't really think it likely, since he's in the U.S., but you never know.)

[ichigoromi]

𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

there will be no part two for this~ it's gonna be a long one!

mostly written in reader's pov and prepare some tissues!

Pairing: Miya Osamu (timeskip) x fem reader! (she/her)

Genre(s): angst, tragedy

Warning(s): reader's! death, mention of hospice, mention of terminal illness, brief mention of car accident, lots of sad stuff.

Please proceed with caution

Miya Osamu 宮 治

Miya Osamu was my whole life, and my world revolved around him. All I could see in my future was standing beside him, opening up his third franchise and maybe a child or two. Now, my future was just empty, hopeless and lost. From my youth to adulthood, I dedicated my life to this man I still love very much, Miya Osamu. 

How did I end up here? I have to take you back to three years ago. 

It was my birthday and I was waiting back at home for him to come back to surprise him with a gift. The dark clouds loomed over the bright skies and I felt a chill go down my spine when the thunder roared loudly. 

Then, on my 25th birthday, I received the call that will change my whole life. 

My boyfriend of three years was in a car accident on his way home and may never have the chance to wake up, or even if he wakes up, he might not recover 100 percent. 

But I trust Samu, he would never leave me alone. 

I was the one who visited him everyday and ran Onigiri Miya, and when he woke up…he asked for my best friend’s name. 

Even when I tried to explain that I was his girlfriend but he refused to talk to me. 

I was lost and his family was confused. They knew that my best friend came to help take care of Samu but…this was all too sudden. He refused to talk to anyone unless it was her. 

So…I left. 

And three years went by, I saw him on the news, joining the same team as Atsumu. I moved back to my hometown with our twins, a girl and boy. My parents could only comfort me when I arrived back from Hyogo and my swollen belly with the twins back then. 

After I left, Atsumu tried to contact me but I cut off contact with all of them. 

I knew, sooner or later, Osamu will know about his kids but just not now. He was having so much fun playing along with his brother and…having a loving relationship with his new girlfriend. This was all too heartbreaking. 

My twins, Rei and Reki, were like the exact replica of Osamu and I. Rei is just like Osamu while Reki resembles me more. Her mannerism often reminds me of Osamu but we are just strangers now. 

I would just tell him about the twins when they are older. 

Just not now, when his life is going so well. 

[Two years later...]

I am going to leave this world soon. Not on my own free will but the cruel fate I was destined for. 

Even with treatment, I would at least be given a good two months, but I do not want to traumatize my children with sickly appearance.

After a long and tearful discussion with my parents, I decided to place myself in hospice. My children were confused but I had to let them meet their uncle at least. So, for the first time in nine years, I called Atsumu. 

He was still a crybaby and drove to my house the minute he was off from practice. 

“Tsumu, what are you standing there for? Come and give me a hug.” I spread my arms towards him and he ran into my embrace, nearly knocking me off my feet and bawled his eyes out. Then he noticed the twins staring curiously at him and it clicked in his head. 

He pulled me up to my feet and I knew what he was going to do. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Tsumu. I want you to help me with a favour.” I tug on the tail end of his jacket, just like back in high school. 

“What is it bunbun? What do you need?” He wiped off his tears and mustered up a determined expression. 

“To take care of my children when I’m gone. I know it’s a huge responsibility but you can reject me if you want. I’m sorry for contacting you out of the blue and even pulled-” Atsumu suddenly pulls me into his arms, and I could feel my shirt dampen with his tears. 

“Are you for real? What do you mean you’re going to be gone? Where are you going? Can you please not go?” Now, the twins are also bawling their eyes out. 

You have explained to them that you might not be able to stay with them for a long time but you will always be in their hearts forever. 

“I’m going to hospice, Tsumu.” I could see the lost and broken expression on his face. 

My parents took the twins back to the room while I calmed down Atsumu. He broke down in my arms and I cried along with him. If I could, I would have avoided the Miyas forever but forever doesn’t exist for me. 

I was just starting my life and my kids, and Samu. I still didn’t get the chance to tell him about our children and all that he missed. How I miss waking up early to open the restaurant with him or just waking up next to him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life together with him. 

I wanted to stay with Samu forever. 

“Tsumu, I miss Samu so much. I still love him so much but I can’t bear to ruin his life by showing up suddenly. I really miss him, and I don’t want to leave this world this early. I didn’t even get to apologize for not staying by his side. I’m so sorry…” 

That night, we just stayed in each other's arms crying. 

Atsumu sent me to the hospice and promised that he would visit when he was free and hopefully bring Osamu along. 

All I could do was hope. 

My days at the hospice consist of preparing my will and other necessary preparations after I leave. My kids would visit every single day with my parents, and my best friend and brother from another womb would visit me no matter how packed his schedules were. 

Not a single day has Samu come. 

Each day, I was getting weaker and the pain meds were less helping with the current pain that I have to go through. 

The hospice director allowed my kids to sleep over in my room and I hugged them to sleep everyday. They remind me of Samu constantly and it just made it harder for me to leave this world. My precious babies, I’m so sorry that I have to leave this early.

I heard from Atsumu the other day that Osamu proposed. 

Since I am dying, I do not give my blessings at all. 

“Tsumu. You don’t have to tell Samu about Rei and Reki. He is going to have his own family and…” I trailed off, as my vision began spinning and I could not hear anything before falling into a pool of darkness. 

All I remembered was Atsumu’s panic expression. Silly Tsumu, why was he so worried? I still have a few more days left. 

When I woke up, Atsumu was snoring softly beside me, holding my hand tightly as if I would just disappear if he didn't hold it tight enough. 

“Tsumu, wake up. I wanna go see the stars by the sea.” I lightly shook his shoulders and he was about to reject me but I just smiled at him. 

He helped me put on Samu’s high school varsity jacket and helped me to his car. The night was silent and cooling, perfect weather for a drive and a short trip to the beach to see the stars. 

I rolled down the window and enjoyed the cool autumn breeze as we drove to the beach. 

When we reached the beach, Atsumu set up the picnic mat on the floor and helped me to sit and bundled me up in another blanket. We both sat in silence and just stared at the night skies filled with bright stars. 

“Tsumu, I will be up there soon~. If you miss me, you can just look at the stars and I will be looking at you from above.” He was sobbing quietly and nodding his head. 

I suddenly recall the summer night that the five of us forced Kita-san to drive us to the beach at night to do stargazing and that was when Osamu got together officially as a couple. 

“I’m suddenly feeling really sleepy, Tsumu. Should I sleep? I feel like if I sleep this time, I might never wake up…” You leaned against Atsumu’s broad shoulder. 

Through the silent autumn night, you heard the heavy yet quick footsteps running towards your direction. 

You opened your eyes and it was Samu.

Before you could say anything, he pulled you into a hug. 

“I was the one in the wrong this whole time. I’m sorry that I came so late…” He was really here, my Samu finally came. 

Atsumu left to give us some privacy, and even after we had been separated for so long, he was still the Samu that I love and miss. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad that you came to watch the stars with me.” You smiled at him and he gently caressed my face as if he was trying to remember my face by touch. I decided to tell him about what I did after our separation and even our children. 

At the mention of our children, he could not help but burst into tears and apologized to me over and over again. 

What a crybaby, what’s he going to do when I’m not around anymore?

We talked for the whole time until we saw the sun slowly rising. 

“Samu, I love you.” 

“I love you too, my forever moon.”He leans down to kiss my lips, and I softly kiss back. 

And I close my eyes forever. 

Osamu’s P.O.V

My forever moon just left me. 

During those weeks that Tsumu was telling me that I was making a mistake by not following him to visit the hospice, I regretted it deeply. When I realised Tsumu was telling the truth and the person that I trusted so much was the one who betrayed me and her best friend, I drove all the way to the location my brother sent me. 

We have twins, the older twin named Rei and the younger twin named Reki. 

I promised her that I would take care of them and tell them how brave their mother was and all the beautiful memories that we have made. She told me that she prepared presents for them till their 20th birthday and got their coming-of-age ceremony kimonos prepared. And my presents too. 

I don’t need any presents. 

I…just need my moon back.

Well, isn't it a long one? I was going through something and yeahhhh...it turned out like this. Hope y'all lovelies enjoyed this!

Stay safe and healthy:)

With lots of love,

Roro🍓

©️ ICHIGOROMI — Please do not plagiarise my work or re-edit and repost as your own.

[evilmisto]

Cats Dump!!! (Pick your favorite question cuz I have a couple)

Dump about your band au? What’s your favorite non-replica and why? What are your headcanons about the show in general?

HEEHEEEE thank you for the ask

the band AU... I don’t have it fully figured out yet but I’ll try my best lol

They start off as a pretty small band. Tugger is the lead vocalist and lead guitarist, Teazer is the rhythm guitarist, Bomba is the bassist, and Mungo is the drummer. Bomba ends up leaving the group bc of tensions with the other members.

So at this point they obviously need a new bassist, and this is where Misto comes in. Misto isn’t, like, super musically inclined like the rest of them— obviously he likes it and he has some musical experience, but his life doesn’t revolve around it. It’s just something he did for fun. However, he does have a bass. And because of this Tugger BEGS Misto to be their new bassist. Misto is hesitant bc he’s not very good at it but Tugger is like “nooo it’s easy I promise pleeeeaaaaaase be our bassist” and Misto gives in

(It’s not even like Misto is the only bassist Tugger knows he just really wants to be around Misto. Bc he’s gay for him)

So they go on a short hiatus while Misto practices bass with Tugger and some time after they come back they get super successful. And this leads into a 2000s emo band, Summer of Like type affair. Lots of drama. Lots of angst. Quick get these guys in Vans Warped Tour type shit. You know

and that’s all I have so far

2. My favorite non replica has to be il sistina just bc I love Misto’s design so incredibly much

(EDITING THIS ON AUG 7 TO SAY MY FAVORITE NON REPLICA DESIGN IS GÖTEBORG 2006 TUGGER NOW. HES SO PETE WENTZ CORE I LOVE IT)

3. My head canons about the show in general arent that unique tbh 😭 Jemima is Demeter and Macavity’s daughter, Misto and Victoria are siblings, etc. I think maybe Skimble is Jemima’s grandfather or uncle but he’s more of a father figure to her because Demeter left Macavity when Jemima was very young so Skimble was more present in her life

anyways THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK HEHE I LOVE RAMBLING

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Masquerade of Sinners au… may I introduce you to one of my most recently favourite AUs?

Seeing as it is spooky month now, I think it’s quite fitting to share this one! Starting with simply some of the doodles I did over the past few months in my spare time! Edgejeanist and ectoloader designs only at the moment-

The lore for this one is. Fairly Complicated. And. A Lot. So I shall do a separate lore post!

For now have some basic info for the au:

(Includes stuff revolving around angels and demons, the divine, heavens and worship and religion and all that sort of stuff as a heads up:)

Shinya is the devil!

Tsunagu is a fallen angel that fell(literally) in love with him. Is known simply as the devils lover.

Ecto is a demon with a Backstory

Higari is. Complicated /lh (He’s a demon but there’s a Whole Ass Backstory, he has died and reincarnated twice)

This au was meant to be a simple edgejeanist centric au. It is now VERY ectoloader. They’ve taken over my brain for this au in particular.

Anyway, the Sinners (human sinners and certain demons/fallen angels) are individuals that get to attend special masquerade balls hosted by Shinya.

This is the Masquerade of Sinners, and they have their disguises for when regular humans pop up sometimes.

The masks are specially made by Shinya, through the eyes of these masks you can see the Sinners for what they truly are! Their demonic forms are shown.

These masks also help to contain the dangers of so many sinners being grouped together partying on unholy land.

Tsunagu’s a special case, the divine’s grasp on him hadnt fully let go out of spite and basically one night decided to dish out extra punishment.

Tsunagu’s mask broke and unleashed a wave of divinity across the ballroom, turning everyone inside into statues and causing him to crumble away and cease to exist.

They’re all kinda stuck like this now. For a long time.

Long enough for Random People to turn Shinya’s house into a museum. (Like 100years perhaps)

However, they notice that the stone(?) statues that have masks on them seem to move and murder at a certain time period in the night. Demonic presence is detected also

They decide to lock up the ballroom and create fake statue replicas out of wood and wax and simply move the masks to these statues for presentation.

This doesn’t fix anything as the masks cause them to possess these as well.

The main plot follows a reincarnation of Tsunagu, as he feels drawn to the mansion.

He relives events and goes through helping each statue receive their respective masks around the mansion, befriending demons that he can see and learning about himself.

Eventually he manages to free Shinya and then everyone else and dies in the process allowing Shinya to bring him back as he was before. As a Sinner <3

There’s some spooky aspects and plenty of backstories for each of the characters! But that’ll be in another post!!

As for ectoloader… they’re gonna need their own long post. Let’s just say that Ecto is a sad and traumatised yet murderous lil demon and Higari is deeply deeply in denial about being a sinner heheh :]

I have several more wips and doodles for this au! So I hope you enjoy <3

[bracketsoffear]

Candyman is a good candidate, but I feel then need to argue for Belos because goddamn is he Corruption. There's a LOT to talk about, but for this one, let's focus on Caleb and Hunter.

His backstory revolves around his toxic relationship with his brother--he refused to accept that Caleb wasn't what he wanted his brother to be (i.e. not a bigoted witch-hating Puritan) and thus murdered Caleb. He is also implied to hold a grudge against the Clawthornes, the descendants of Caleb's wife--while the vindictive shit he put Lilith and Eda through could be because of time loop shenanigans, it could very well also be because they're reminders of Evelyn Clawthorne, who (in his eyes) took away his brother. Belos then created Grimwalker replicas of Caleb, prizing the ones that looked more like his brother but wanting them to act nothing like the original. He couldn't accept that Hunter would "betray" him by questioning him even a little bit and immediately tried to kill him, just like he killed enough Grimwalkers that there's now a pit littered with piles of their bones. Even before that, he was constantly emotionally and physically abusive to Hunter--for example, he violently lashed out at him and excused it as his curse, he forbid Hunter's interest in wild magic, and Hunter compares himself to fellow child abuse survivor Amity Blight in "Eclipse Lake" as feeling the need to prove themselves to their loved ones or be replaced.

One scene that highlights this is in "King's Tide." Hunter--who is dying because Belos made sure that he was subject to the Draining Spell, in case it wasn't clear already how little he really cares about getting his brother back--is facing off with Belos, who's gone full goop monster. Hunter's Palisman, Flapjack (whose existence he had to hide from Belos so Belos wouldn't eat him), is strongly implied to have originally belonged to Evelyn.

(Zoom in on Flapjack)

As far as Belos is concerned, Hunter isn't really family--he's a disposable tool. Sure, Belos will put on the kindly uncle act when it's useful, but the second he loses his temper, he shows his true monstrous colors and tries to destroy his "nephew." Hunter, to Belos, isn't even his own person. He's a flawed copy of Belos' brother--or more accurately, his idea of his brother, the "perfect" brother who was led astray by the evil witch. He's just another Caleb, a living reminder of Caleb's "betrayal" who Belos will kill without hesitation.

Belos ups the ante in "Thanks to Them" by infecting Hunter with his goop and possessing him. He uses Hunter as yet another disposable vessel (like the decayed deer seen earlier), reshaping Hunter in his image and using him to try and kill his friends. It's the natural conclusion of his exploitation of his "nephew."

Note that he says "our work"--either he's equating Hunter with Caleb again (and ignoring how Caleb decided to stop witch hunting), or he's viewing Hunter as his servant still.

And speaking of equating Hunter and Caleb...

Again, Belos is fixated on idealizing and warping his brother while demonizing Evelyn for "stealing" him. He mortally wounds Hunter's best friend because he sees Flapjack as the Evelyn responsible for leading Caleb (Hunter) into sin (and away from Belos). Furthermore, his possession is so toxic to Hunter's body that he's soon forced to ditch his host because he fatally damaged Hunter's body, necessitating Flapjack's sacrifice to fix it.

Finally, there's "For the Future," where Belos is confronted by an apparition of Caleb:

For all his claims of loving his brother, his "love" is ultimately warped and selfish. He blames Caleb for his own murder, justifies it as "saving" Caleb from his "sin," and even attacks what may or may not be his brother's spirit even as he's insisting Caleb is at fault for Belos' fratricide. And despite the ghost of his mistakes staring him down, he ignores the very obvious message and instead tries to possess another Grimwalker, only failing because it wasn't ready yet.

TLDR; Belos' relationships with Caleb (who he murdered to "save" him and idealizes as someone totally different in death) and Hunter (who he created to be his obedient and unquestioning version of Caleb, constantly abused, treated as an expendable tool, and possessed as goop that did serious internal damage) epitomize Corruption as the fear of toxic relationships.

.

[skylarmoon71]

Eobard Thawne (Flash) Chapter 20

Safe to say, having dinner after that was a bit awkward.

Eobard was literally shameless.

Sitting at the table, you eat quietly.

Every bite Eli takes, you can see a grimace.

"Do you not like it?"

He shakes his head.

"I just can't help but wonder if you two were making out while you were preparing the food. Who knows what fluids are in here." You blush, and Eli stands with an awkward laugh.

"I'm gonna turn in early."

"O-Of course! Have a good night!" He speeds up to the guest room, and Eobard just continues with his meal.

"How can you be so casual?"

"We're all adults." He replies. You just sigh.

"He's still stuck here."

It was starting to worry you.

"We'll get him back to his own time. If anyone can do that it's me."

He's been a time anomaly from the moment he made Barry an enemy.

"Do you still hate him?" Eobard stops, glancing at you.

You aren't sure if you'll like the answer he has. You aren't even sure what possessed you to ask such a question.

"I do."

You swallow, looking down.

"I see. "

You should have expected as much. It's not like he was going to change years of hate in a matter of months.

"But lately...lately it doesn't feel as bad. " Your hopeful eyes look up.

"Lately there's a lot more that I want. "

It's a little naive to think his entire world revolves around you. But it seems that just a bit of his heart may not be completely lost.

That is what gives you hope.

You finish your meal with a more cheerful attitude. Eli has raced over to Star Labs to exchange theories with Barry and Cisco. You're making yourself busy around the apartment. However the quiet gets to you. When you walk up the stairs, Eobard is standing at the door of the guest room. Just staring.

"Is everything alright?"

His gaze drifts, and he looks you over.

"Did he leave?"

"Yeah. He just went to Star Labs. I guess he really likes his uncles." You joke.

Eobard is still silent. Now you're a little worried.

"Eobard."

"I'm not sure how to explain it, but something is wrong."

His words confuse you. You don't truly understand, not until you feel the wind at the back of your neck.

"MOM!!"

Eli's voice sounds panicked and you just barely turn before you see the suit.

It's yellow, but this one is different. Because the speedster in front of you could not be your Eobard.

"I won't let you ruin our plans."

The yellow figure states. Eli races to your side, the same time Eobard tries to do the same, but they are both too late. The hand that goes into your chest makes you gasp.

"(Y/N)!!"

Eobard's scream echoes in your ears, and just like that your body drops. Both men end up on the ground by your side. Eobard is cradling your face, and Eli is sobbing.

"H-How is this possible? D-Dad why did you hurt her!!"

Eobard shakes his head.

"T-That wasn't me I-I..I would never.."

You cough, trying to steady your breathing, but it's hard.

"Eo..bard.."

"I'm here. I'm right here."

You wear a weak smile, looking up at him as you stroke his cheek.

"You're different now...better.. " You look so weak, and he feels as though his heart is being ripped out of his chest.

He doesn't say a word, just takes off running with you in tow.. Eli is right behind him. His feet skid when he makes it to Star Labs.

"HELP HER!!"

The urgency of Eobard's voice startled them all. It doesn't even look like you're breathing. Eobard places you on the bed, and Caitling is racing around the room to assist. Eli is standing at the side, just barely keeping it together.

"What happened?" Barry needs to know. Eli's gaze moves to Eobard whose eyes are firmly planted on your form. Eli doesn't have it in him to say what he saw. Because he'd watch his father, at least some version of him drive a vibrating hand through your chest.

"I did this."

Eobard confesses.

Now they are uneasy.

"A replica of me came back. Whatever happens in the future, it must be linked to you Barry. To stop that from happening, I took away any chances of me straying from my original task of destroying your life." There is anger in his voice.

When they hear the sound of the heart monitor, Eobard moves closer.

"Come on, wake up. Wake up."

The beats seem to get slower, and despite Caitlin's best attempt, when they hear the flatline of the heart monitor, all action seems to stop. Eli lets out a breath. Barry and Cisco look on in disbelief. Caitlin's hands are shaking slightly. The syringe in her hand drops.

"She's gone.."

Iris mutters.

Eli takes a staggered step back.

"You did this..." His accusing eyes turn to Eobard.

Barry becomes weary when he sees the sparks begin to bounce of Eli's body.

"All of this is your fault. I just wanted to make you proud. To be a hero like my dad, but you're nothing but a monster. A villain. She trusted you. She loved you and you killed her...YOU KILLED HER!!" Eli fires off in Eobard's direction, and he grunts when he's struck in the stomach. His body hits the wall. They all jolt back, and Barry tries to intervene.

"DON'T INTERFERE!!"

The red glow in his eyes is one Barry has seen a million times. Eli swings a punch, knocking Barry right off his feet. His chilling gaze turns back to Eobard who is picking himself off the ground.

The next attack is struck in his face, and Eobard doesn't fight back. Blood splatters on the wall, but Eli doesn't stop. His blows are vicious. Filled with all the hate and pain that he's felt since the day he was born.

"You have to stop!!" Barry calls. This time, he may need a different strategy. He grabs a pair of meta cuffs and nods to Cisco.

Vibing a breech, Eobard's body drops into the portal. Eli looks stunned. While he's distracted, Barry makes quick work at cuffing him. When his speed is no longer going, his body seems a bit unsteady, and he falls to his knees. Cisco reopens the breech, and Eobard runs out. Stopping right next to Eli.

The younger man's eyes lift, guilt and pain are all that they see. That changes to anger.

"I hate you."

If words could kill, that would have been the dagger to Eobard's heart.

Eli's head lowers, and they all watch in fear as his body begins to phase out.

"No.." Barry sounds devastated.

Because now they realize what's happening. Eli is being erased.

In a matter of seconds, Eli's body is gone.

When they look over, so is yours.

[cboffshore]

When you've got target practice at five but a coronation at six, you need a look that does it all. This is "Ascension."

God, I love Benthomaar. That's it. That's the post.

(Just kidding! You got off easy with the last two notes sections, so here comes Analysis Freak Lila on her bullshit again, lurking under the cut!)

If Seabound had released during my first stint on Tumblr, I guarantee we'd all have been tagging him as precious cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure. (Typing that out made me want to cry. We talked like that? Seriously?) Personally, I think that's just a touch reductive... but he is a sweetheart. There's no denying that. Anyway, I think Benthomaar is a fascinating character! We'll go ahead and break this one down piece by piece.

I chose to go for an unconventional blend of silhouettes here: a business-like lapeled jumpsuit, except it's got athleisure jogger legs (more on that in a minute) and none of the structured seams of the KPS and "Hired Trident" designs. The business vibes are a direct nod to Bentho's early attempts at winning his adopted brother's friendship; however, this structure has a more genuine expression of Merlopian loyalty. While the KPS and "Hired Trident" lapels are a relatively neutral shape and all kingdom rep is limited to hidden patterns, the lapels on "Ascension" are traced directly from the Merlopian crest that Bentho wears as part of his armor. It's a fresh take on the designs that made up the first third of this series.

As promised: the athleisure justification! It's no secret that Bentho is a skilled athlete (even Kalmaar's willing to openly admit this, which is pretty sweet if you don't think about the manipulative aspect of that episode). Given how much of his screen time revolves around some of the flashiest combat I've seen in all my 11 years of tenure with the fandom, I thought it would be appropriate to make this ensemble a versatile one. The fabric texture vaguely resembles sharkskin for what I hope are obvious reasons, and the jogger pant legs are designed for security and ease of movement. On the top half, the structured wrap lapels are balanced out by golden athletic mesh in the Art Deco pattern I chose to represent Merlopia as a nod to his lightweight, movement-friendly armor. It's tricky to see without zooming in (please, zoom in! these are designed for laptop viewing), but there's also a little bronze tennis bracelet and necklace on here too, because I wanted just a little royal glam here. He deserves it!

Speaking of movement, let's talk about the sandals. From the beginning (meaning the original iteration of this design, which Sketchbook accidentally ate earlier this year, so go scour my Twitter for the original if you want to), I knew I wanted to use sandals to represent Bentho's perpetual barefootedness. These are meant to be highly flexible and secure, and are fastened with a bar inspired by one of his throwing needles. The heel pillars on these are direct replicas of his iconic spear. Now, you might be thinking: aren't heels not great for, you know, running and throwing things? And you'd be right! In the event that this is ever made in real life, I have only one stipulation: the heel spears need to be removable. It's like the shoe version of taking out your hoops before a fight, which is something I can imagine Bentho doing for some reason?

It's not a Merlopian-royalty-themed Lila design without a fancy lapel pin! This one is pretty straightforward: two of his iconic throwing needles crossed under a Merlopian crest (with, of course, just a few dangly chains). This, I like to think, is another bit of kingdom rep that makes more sense than Kalmaar's self-centered attire, but the usage of the needles represents Bentho's unique narrative experience and quiet confidence in his skill set.

We're 2/3 of the way through the series now - can you believe it? I can't! I have the final two designs done and am busy prepping notes, but in the meantime, enjoy the obligatory wallpaper:

[somacruising]

Tales of the Rays Terms

Hello, everyone! Since a lot of people may not remember all of the terms introduced in Arc 1, I thought that I’d go through them and try to help illuminate what these are referring to. 

If I miss any term or don’t define something correctly, please send me an ask or just reply to this post.

Aegis: A barrier protecting the land from the Sandstorm of Death/Voidstorm.

Anima: Life energy, essentially. MP. It exists in everything and can be understood as having the same kind of logic as mana in other Tales games. You need it to survive and it’s a kind of energy.

Chiral Particles: Another mana/fonon/aer equivalent. Tir na Nog has an abundant amount of these particles, which they use to generate unlimited amounts of energy. It’s separate from Anima and there is a large plot twist revolving around how Chiral Particles are produced.

Encoding: The process of exoflected things conforming to the laws of reality of Tir na Nog. For example, when Lorelei gets exoflected later on their existence is changed into that of a spirit rather than a bundle of fonons because fonons do not exist in Tir na Nog. Artes that take fonons or aer or mana now use Anima, ect ect. A crossover fanfic writer’s dream come true.

Exoflection: The process of creating a copy of something with mirristry using anima. Anything can be created: landmasses, buildings, people... However, when a large enough landmass is created, a nexus will be created along with it. Doing something that big will require the use of a device called a Kaleidoscope.

Kaleidoscope: A weapon created to remove anima from objects and convert it into light. It was used to destroy the kingdom of Bifrost. Recently, it was used as an aid to exoflecting landmasses due to its ability to target things.

Living Doll: An individual who has had their soul removed from their body for any reason. There are multiple types of Living Dolls, but all of them are derived from this. It is an extremely traumatic procedure for the person involved. The Asgard Empire are using nexuses to create these.

Nexus: A character from one of the mainline games. You can think of them like replicas, except with all of their memories. Essentially: they are a reflection (a mirror image, if you will) of a character from another world. They are usually created alongside landmasses. A nexus, unfortunately, tends to attract Shimmeras.       Omega Nexus: A nexus that got a little fucked up somehow. I don’t actually remember a lot of details, sadly. Their anima flow is reversed, so that’s not good. I think they need to wear some kind of protective gear to not destroy everything around them.       Stray Nexus: A nexus that was created on accident due to the Kaleidoscope’s aim being off. There are two things necessary for them to be created. One: “exist at the same time as the first nexus” and two: “be someone of importance to their world.” Basically, why characters who aren’t main characters are here.

Mirrage: Literally. Just any kind of object that is related to mirristry. Usually reflective in some way.

Mirrorshift: An event in which Ix had to use his power to keep the Sandstorm of Death from flooding into Tir na Nog. He encased himself and another character named Gefion in crystals, which then spread out from him across the world. It caused a lot of earthquakes.

Mirrist: Any native of Tir na Nog who uses mirristry.

Mirristry: All the powers that a mirrist can use through with their inborn powers. Exoflection, the ability to incarnate using anima, is one of the artes available. This power also comes in different types, such Ix’s "creation" and Mileena’s “imagination.”

Mirrite: What Karia, Kocis, and Mark are. They’re being created from mirristry that AREN’T nexuses, completely original beings. They’re tied to the lives of the mirrists that created them and are able to share their feelings. This tie is able to be severed, and when it is, the mirrist will lose all memories of their mirrites.

Sandstorm of Death/Voidstorm: Oh boy. Okay, so Tir na Nog is actually a exoflection, itself. Once upon a time, there was another country called Bifrost that had a war with Sellund (where the main characters are from). Bifrost got completely wiped out and everyone there was reduced to particles of life. Unfortunately, they are all still alive in that state, and essentially feeling constant agony. Also unfortunately, their current existence in this state causes them to destroy whatever they come into contact with.

Shimmera: A monster created from the Sandstorm of Death that is able to slip past the Aegis. They hunger for anima and seek out nexuses to fill themselves.

[v-thinks-on]

“It is one thing to have the knowledge of spaceflight transmitted into my brain, but another thing altogether to experience it for myself.”

I clutch Watson’s arm as our small shuttlecraft lifts off from the New Scotland Yard shuttle bay. I know precisely how much force is being applied to the metal contraption, which is now rocketing us up through the atmosphere, into space, with a tremendous roar, but the knowledge is far from reassuring.

I know also that we sit in comparative comfort, in a vehicle much more spacious than a flying car, and it is only Watson, Lestrade, and I; a far cry from the tightly packed commercial spacecraft. I am at least grateful for the company, Watson beside me unflinching despite how tightly I squeeze his arm, as though that might somehow save me from the impossible force of escape velocity or the infinite vacuum of space.

“It’s not much further now,” Watson says encouragingly, though I can see the creases of concern across his brow.

“Just sit back and enjoy the flight,” Lestrade adds from across the aisle, reading a magazine as though she were back in the sitting room at Baker Street, or the Yard barracks. “You didn’t really think the sun revolved around the earth, did you?”

“Hardly, but nor had I ever paused to consider that my work might take me beyond the earth’s surface. However, I suppose it’s to be expected if one is to be the only consulting detective in the 22nd century.” I give Watson a smile which I hope inspires some measure of confidence and endeavour to lean back in my seat and watch the planet earth fade into the distance, but I hold on to his hand until we have reentered the gravity of the moon.

The moon is pale and rocky, as it ought to be, developed in the past century to include a handful of small habitable complexes aglow with artificial light, composed of smooth, angular metal, less uniform than the skyscrapers of New London, and crowned with large, transparent domes. The most prominent of these structures is a resort in high demand, but there are also more modest government installations hidden in the moon’s immense craters, as well as Moriarty’s hideout.

Once we are past the perilous reentry, gliding around the planet is not so different from flying in one of the vehicles on earth, but without the hazards of thick traffic or the tight rows of skyscrapers. Even in the busy 22nd century, there are still some wide open, quiet spaces, one just has to leave earth to get there.

We land in a hangar off of one of the smaller government installations. I don’t have long to savour the solid ground beneath my feet, as Lestrade hands me one of the environmental suits hanging on the spare metal wall. I pull on the bulky white jumpsuit.

“Consider yourself fortunate, Watson, that you have no need of one,” I remark from beneath an oblong, white helmet, though I know the spacesuit is far more comfortable than only a century before.

He gives me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

“What are you waiting for?” Lestrade calls over, already in the driver’s seat of yet another vehicle; a moon buggy, with its large wheels for travelling over rocky terrain fixed firmly on the ground.

Watson climbs into the back and offers me a hand to help pull me up. I join Inspector Lestrade in the front.

With a final warning announcement, the hangar door slides open and all the air rushes out into the moon’s thin atmosphere, and we drive out onto the pale lunar surface. It is more barren than the most isolated landscape on Earth; powdery white rock as far as the eye can see. The light gravity makes every movement weightless, like moving through water. Even the buggy jolts lightly across the uneven ground as though it were a featherlight replica, remaining suspended in air just a little too long with each jump. Only Watson seems to adapt easily to the change, moving no differently than on Earth.

“The most recent ‘moon wolf’ sighting was around here,” Lestrade says once we’ve gone some ways. “If you’re right and it’s defending Moriarty’s hideout, then they shouldn’t be far away.”

Suddenly, Watson exclaims, “I say! Is that…” He’s staring out across the rocky landscape, peering farther than mere human eyes can see. “I daresay it is! Giant wolf at two o’clock, right on cue!”

Lestrade and I turn at once to see a small, dark speck upon the bright horizon, rapidly growing as it nears, outpacing our lumbering vehicle with ease. We do not have long to prepare for the assault. Lestrade pushes me into the driver’s seat as she draws her phaser and levels it at the advancing creature.

I know all there is to know about the mechanisms which drive the buggy, and what operations each lever performs, but it is another matter entirely to find myself at the wheel. We swerve and stutter as I endeavour to get my bearings.

“Watch it!” Lestrade yells, but it’s too late, as the giant wolf rams into the side of the vehicle, nearly knocking it over.

Watson gives a shout, and I turn without a thought for propulsion or steering or any obstacles that may lie ahead, to see him tumbling to the ground as though through water, the wolf ready to pounce.

“Watson!” I cry.

“Holmes, we’re gonna crash!” Lestrade snaps, drawing my attention back to the vehicle and its controls.

I pound my foot upon the gas and turn the wheel as far as it will go, and we swerve perilously away from the sheer wall of a small plateau, bouncing precariously along the ground. Beside me, I hear a volley of phaser blasts, answered by the snarling of a wolf.

If nothing else, I still have my capacity for reason; I try to keep the vehicle as steady as I can as I say, “If it’s truly a robotic wolf, then its joints should be its weak spot.”

“Roger that!” More phaser blasts erupt from beside me.

[lighthousenewsnetwork]

In a move that would make Machiavelli himself raise a skeptical eyebrow, Philadelphia Phillies outfielder Bryce Harper has redefined the art of "having your cake and eating it too." Just days after signing a record-breaking 10-year, $420 million contract extension – a deal so lucrative it could single-handedly fund a small nation's space program – Harper shocked the baseball world by requesting a trade. "We were ecstatic to finally lock down Bryce for the foreseeable future," stammered a visibly bewildered Dave Dombrowski, Phillies President of Baseball Operations. "He's our franchise player, the face of the team. We even threw in a lifetime supply of Tastykakes, for Pete's sake!" Dombrowski then excused himself to go sob uncontrollably into a pile of Liberty Bell replicas. Speculation regarding Harper's sudden trade request is running rampant. Some sources claim the slugger simply yearns for a more competitive environment, one where the primary concern isn't whether the team mascot, the Phillie Phanatic, will accidentally set himself on fire during pre-game festivities. Others whisper of a secret clause in the contract stipulating mandatory participation in cheese whiz-dunking contests, a Philadelphia tradition Harper finds particularly distasteful. The most persistent rumor, however, revolves around Harper's undying love for cheesesteaks. Apparently, the contract's initial offer of a "generous" monthly allotment of cheesesteaks fell short of Harper's "enthusiastic consumption" needs. "You gotta understand, I come from Vegas, baby," a source close to Harper (allegedly a particularly chatty cheesesteak vendor) explained. "Those wimpy Philly portions just don't cut it for a guy like Bryce." This news has unsurprisingly sent shockwaves through the City of Brotherly Love. Fans, already accustomed to a steady diet of disappointment, are drowning their sorrows in hoagies the size of their heartbreak. Local cheesesteak vendors are reporting a surge in sales, with some even offering "Harper Farewell Specials" featuring extra meat and a commemorative "Traded for Cheesesteaks" sticker. Meanwhile, rival teams are circling Harper like vultures over a discarded hot dog at Citizens Bank Park. The Los Angeles Dodgers, ever the picture of financial responsibility, are rumored to be offering a lifetime supply of In-N-Out burgers and a beachfront mansion (slightly used, ocean views may be obstructed by seagulls). The New York Yankees, ever classy, have proposed a lifetime supply of stale bagels and the dubious honor of being relentlessly booed by their own fanbase. The situation remains fluid, with the Phillies desperately scrambling to find a trade partner willing to take on Harper's astronomical contract, not to mention his cheesesteak-fueled metabolism. One thing's for sure: Bryce Harper's legacy is forever cemented. Not as a baseball legend, mind you, but as the man who dared to redefine loyalty for a cheesesteak. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a sudden craving for Tastykakes and existential dread. #BryceHarper #mlb #PhiladelphiaPhillies #Satire #trade

[oliviainjapann]

May 12th- Hakone Day Trip

Today started off super early once again. The journey to Hakone was actually insane. We began by taking two train rides, then switched to a cable car, then took a gondola. The views along the way were impeccable though, and I was really appreciating the nature around me. Seeing the mountains and the lush forests were so beautiful. The checkpoint that we got to see was interesting and gave us an idea of what it was like during the Edo period. The gondola ride to the top of the mountains was very cool, and we got to see Mount Fuji. I thought the sulfur eggs were interesting and it was cool to see how many products in the shop revolved around the eggs. Lunch was alright, but it did the trick. Then it was time for the pirate ship. I didn’t really understand why there was a pirate ship to bring us to the other side of the lake, and honestly I was so cold on the deck and the wind was blowing so hard I thought I was going to be swept into the water. The views were very beautiful though I must say. We did have to walk up many stairs and long paths to get to the actual shrine, and it was so cold and windy that I was dying. The shrine was very beautiful, and I got a charm for traffic safety for my car and a pretty one for good health for my mom. Then came the worst part of the day: waiting for what felt like hours to take a photo in front of the famous Tori gates on the water. I was freezing and so tired and moody, but we persevered and got the group photo. I’m now currently on the journey back to the hotel. We were only able to get 7-11 snacks for dinner while we waited for the train to come because so many places were closed, and I don’t know how many more tuna and mayo onigiris I can consume. They are amazing, but I think I’ve had one every day and I’m starting to feel ill. I miss salads and vegetables in America. I’m going to have to go on a detox when I get back home tbh. Idk how the Japanese stay so fit and skinny. Anyways, I’m defrosting now on this train and will possibly be getting some more food once we get back with my friends.

Academic Reflection

The reading for today prepared me well to see the physical checkpoint replica in our first stop of the day. I thought it was an interesting and disturbing concept to learn about how the checkpoints worked and what they were made for. For one, they were used to keep the daimyo’s wives inside, and two, keep guns out. The daimyo did not want their wives following them when they would travel to Edo, the capital. They needed to travel in order to prevent uprisings from occurring. What was sad to learn was that by keeping the wives inside, they ensured the wives would stay faithful, however the daimyo were not so much. I see so many parallels between the themes shown during this period of time and even now, with double standards and women not having the same freedoms. I’m grateful we don’t have these checkpoints any more, but there’s definitely work to do.

Also, another interesting part of the exhibit was of the three instruments used for torture that the samurai’s would use in order to maintain order within the walls of the city. They appeared very dangerous and scary, and clearly this was the effect that the samurai wanted to have on the commoners. There were many uprising within the cities too due to a low quality of life, including high prices of goods and taxes, and these instruments ensures control over the masses. This made me really appreciate the life that I live now. I cannot imagine the difficulties that commoners had to go through, not just in Japan, but around the world. The pain was unbearable, and it is sad to see the reality we live in and the inhumanity that some people possess.

[hazbinextgeneration]

Hazbin Worlds Collide Ch10

(Mako/Tristan/Ripper/Pip/Velvet/Aldo/Iridescence/Junior and part written by Palettepainter101

Dexter/Beauty/Angle-cake/Winter/Samson- me)

Mako's eye twitched.

He had just walked out of the room where himself and the hotels resident spiderling Angel-Cake had been talking, not about any type of topics but mostly revolving around the subject of family, talking about the boys back home somewhat lifted the home sickness, but he would continue to deny to Angel-Cake and anyone else who questioned that he most definitely wasn't home sick.

He had walked into the bar of the hotel, thinking that maybe some kind of drink would make him feel less...heart warmed and mushy, the talk he had made him feel not so manly and he needed something to sober him up a little.

However, upon reaching the doorway his eyes had landed upon a new patron in the hotel. He hadn't seen him around before and guessed just he must have been this Winter that Beauty brought up from earlier.

But he had been sorely displeased at the uncanny resemblance he held with the son Castello, the same type of clothing wear and the hairstyle pretty much an identical replica!!

And when the snake shapeshifter had turned to the door the slit snake eyes had confirmed his suspicions. He was undoubted related to Castello is some form of other.

"Are you going to continue to stare??" Winter asked blankly, giving the mangy wolf in the doorway a raised brow as he looked him up and down. Based on his attire, that was closely similar to his own, he assumed that this wolf (whoever he was) must have been in the Mafia business like himself.

Mako growled lowly in his throat, as much as it would have been satisfying to blow the blue haired snakes gut with lead, doing so would only cause himself more grief from the three demons. And since he couldn't be bother nor wanted to deal with the endless rants he bottled up his urges and instead walked over towards the boy.

Winter stood still, failing to feel intimidated at the other strong male a as he stopped right in front of him. Now standing close enough to make proper eye contact with the snake Mako had now only realised on closer inspection that this person, or Winter, was almost an exact replica of the son himself!!

Except instead of a trim black suite his was a mixture of both whites and blues.

"Kindly step away from Winter sir." Mako looked down at Winter, who had been confirmed to be the man Beauty had told them about earlier. A small knee high little walked boldly up to the wolf, eyes narrowing up at him with a look that one might give a bag of garbage.

Mako rose a bold brow.

"Samson, leave the patron to his curiosity." Without looking down to give the order to the cat Winter rose his brow slightly at the grey furred demon. The cat, that he assumed must have been called Samson, flinched at the mistake he made before shyly stepping back, but trying to cover it up with a stern look like Winter.

The cold tone that belonged to Winter even sounded like Castello, Mako was sure now that Winter was some home biological related to the Mafia leader, how he wasn't sure, he didn't know who else the don himself would marry or grow some kind of romantic attachment to.

"Now-" Winter looked back up to the wolf "Run along, I am waiting for something."

.... .... .... Mako didn't move, he let his brows furrow and eyes narrow to almost slits, trying to see through Winter even more.

Winter arched a brow when the wolf continued to remain glued to the spot, Samson nervously peered upwards up his cousin, already guessing that something disastrously wrong was going to happen soon, and quickly.

"...Are you related to Castello??" Mako asked, but still kept his eyes narrowed in a glare. At the question the shapeshifters eyes widened by just a fraction, the question wasn't really the surprising thing but the fact that a complete stranger (and a demon he had never seen around the residence) had asked such a question.

He has to answer carefully, his farther had warned him greatly about the dangers of the world and what people would do to get their hands on him.

"Classified."

Mako didn't need any more confirmation, unknown to Winter but he had just confirmed Mako's suspicions, he had given just the answer Castello would have given if he was in the same situation.

Mako gave a huff of laughter at his obliviousness, Winter rose a brow.

"You can't hide things from me Winter." Mako leaned forward and in response, Winter leaned back, but a look of fear didn't come to his face. Mako looked him up and down again and hummed "I can tell your related to the Don."

This time Winter flinched a little, and dammed to hell Mako saw it and another huff of laughter followed, earning a small hiss from the snake. Mako took a step back from Winter, but it wasn't out of fear.

"....Very well, I'm related to Castello." Mako smiled a little "But what purpose is that for you to know??" As much as Winter often liked to avoid asking such questions since he often found no use in them unless the information was to be used for purposes for himself or his family.

And not knowing this stranger well and not even knowing his name, he had to be cautious, even more cautious since he had his little cousin with him.

Mako gave a small badly noticeable shrug "Doesn't mean anything to me-"

"Then why were you asking??" Suddenly becoming suspicious Winter took a bold step in front of his cousin, making Samson step back a little, the young feline rose a brow and then leaned sideways to peer round the side of Winter.

Mako shook both his paws in a surrender like motion "I don't mean no trouble." Winter didn't move from his defensive position in front of his cousin. "You just look awfully like him.." he paused, taking a moment to mentally imagine Castello standing next to Winter and compare them "...the resemblance is uncanny..."

It was true that many demons that were doing business with his farthers Mafia did often mistake him for Castello, even his mother and uncle had told him that he looked so much like his father, something that he was quite proud of, knowing that with that he would be able to build himself a reputation amongst the Mafia world.

"....How do you know my farther??" Winter became slightly more relaxed, letting Samson walk out from behind him but didn't let him walk any further then beyond his side. This time Mako did give a genuine huff of laughter, rolling his eyes "If I told ya you wouldn't believe me.."

Silence.

....Mako looked over to the many unoccupied stools at the bar. He hummed...

"Wanna drink?" Mako offered as he tilted his head in the direction of the said bar and shelves that were lined with glass bottles of alcohol. Offering drinks was never usually in his personality, and half the time he was the one taking drinks from the people that were distracted or were sleeping at the bar, drunk.

But since being here so long he had come to conclude that no matter how many times he wished to just be back home again and deal with the annoying antics of Ripper, the machine wasn't going to magically fix itself over night.

Snd although he found Castello to be a pissy prick, the way that Winter had stepped in front of the Juan younger demon showed that their must have been some kind of kindness in him, looking at both Winter and Samson reminded him much of himself and Pip.....

"....One glass." Winter answered after a moment longer if thinking, before turning back round to face the hallway that leased to the basement, where the hotels blue wolf scientist was preparing his latest order.

Mako gave a gruff hum before walking behind the back of the bar and popping open a bottle of fine ale into two large glass cups. "...What's your name?" This time Winter turned to face the wolf, and to Mako's surprise, walked over and seated himself in a seat on the opposite side of the bar, the small black cat following.

Mako pushed him his cup, and then lifted his own to take three gulps of the fine alcohol. Once he was finished he placed his now half filled cup down into the counter and then looked up to Winter "...Mako."

"..Hmm, pleasure to make your acquaintance." Winter said as he brought his cup to his lips.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room a grey haired spider was glaring daggers into the back of the black cats head as he sat himself up on a bar stool.

"Look at em, sky evil demons! Any kid to Castello is a bad guy in the top of my list!!"

"Pip is the son to Castello you know." Junior stared blankly as he stood plainly in view in the doorway, unlike Iridescence who was hiding behind the doorway. "The cat idiot!!" Iridescence snarled back "Look at him!! The way he follows him, the way he acts like some touch alley cat!! Psh!! I bet my very soul that kitty cat will go crying back to momma if he messes with me!!"

Junior rolled his eyes

"Don't give me that look!! He called you a kitten!!" Juniors for bristled and the spider gave a smile of victory "Don't call me that witch." Junior growled lowly as his ears fell back against his head, but his attempt to appear threatening was futile as Iridescence had gone back to glaring at the snake and cat at the bar.

"I'm tellin' ya Jeje-"

"Junior." He corrected automatically

"Whatever. But I'm tellin' ya, as soon as that little kitty cat wonders too far form that snakes side, I'm getting some answers..." she passed a suspicious glance up at the snake "In gonna find out what he's up too...And you're gonna help."

"Yes of c- Wait what?!"

~elsewhere~

"So..." Velvet arched a brow from a distance as she watched Dexter carefully lift a small glass vile into a safely padded suitcase in the table. He gently closed it shut and then entered to pin to lock the case.

"Why does this Winter person want that??" Velvet inquired with her ear twitching, looking over at the assortment of equipment that the wolf had rushed to get out to finish this potion.

Dexter picked up the suitcase as Aldo finished drinking his coffee that had kindly been offered by Tristan "In all honesty...im not sure." Dexter shrugged and passed a loon down at the suitcase held in his paw

"Winter requests a lot of things, details on what exactly he does with them..he doesn't tell us." He began to assented the stairs, the two other demons exchanging confused glances towards each other before they began to slowly climb after the wolf

"Something tells me that this Winter person may be..a little dangerous."

"You're not the only one.." Aldo nervously replied back.