#One Riot One Ranger

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

Walker, Texas Ranger (TV Series) S1/E1 'One Riot, One Ranger' (1993) - Gailard Sartain

I wonder what this show would be like if Gailard wasn't re-casted with Noble Willingham. Don't get me wrong, Noble was great as C.D. Parker. But I can't help imagining all the scenes we would have gotten with Gailard's ass in jeans.

[ludencore]

TAG DUMP || RYAN CARTER

[yourplayersaidwhat]

Context: We were trying to sneak past some guards during a riot and we needed a distraction. One of the players drank a fire breath potion to start a fire, but we needed fuel to keep it going.

Other players: "Ok we've got some blankets, some torches and a few tinderboxes. Anything else?"

Ranger (pulling out a book containing a huge amount of lore and secrets about the world, plus being an instruction manual for one of the most powerful sources of knowledge and power in the game): "I'm sure we don't need this old thing..."

DM: "NO--!"

[fluentmoviequoter]

It's Commander, Sergeant

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!Army-FBI!reader

Summary: After years of thinking about Tim Bradford, you meet him again during a riot in Los Angeles. When he learns you outrank him, he falls... hard.

Warnings: incorrect Army terminology and actions, depiction of riots, fluff! a couple Call of Duty references. Also, I grew up ten minutes from Fort Rucker, so I'm allowed to trash talk it.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

When you joined the Army immediately after graduation, you didn’t expect it to become a career. What surprised you more was meeting Tim Bradford. You only met him once, but he stayed with you, a firm and commanding yet protective and loyal personality that was impossible to forget. Now, years later, you continue to think about him occasionally, hoping he’s doing well and happy. He inspired you to work through the ranks and do something more meaningful than just obeying as you’re told. Not that being a soldier and taking orders is unimportant, as you’ve explained to the troops you are now Master Sergeant of. Personally, you felt a calling to do more.

“Master Sergeant, Sergeant Major Riley is here to see you,” a soldier says, standing at attention in your doorway.

“I’ll be right out to meet him. Thank you, Private,” you reply kindly.

You are a different kind of Master Sergeant, unwilling to act higher than the men and women who answer to you. Your respect for others, regardless of rank, has made you a favorite on base.

“No need. Is now a good time?” Riley asks, taking the Private’s place.

“Of course. What can I do for you, Sergeant Major Riley?”

“There’s a developing situation in Los Angeles. If you and your team are up for it, I’d like to send you in to help.”

“Los Angeles? Who has jurisdiction?”

Riley chuckles, shaking his head, as he says, “I knew that would be your first question. Not ‘what’s the situation?’ because that’s boring, right?”

“Something like that, sir.”

“The LAPD called in military reinforcements for an out-of-control rioting issue.”

“When do we leave?”

“1700 hours. Tell your troops.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“How’s everyone enjoying US Army Garrison Italy?” you ask your team, composed of twenty of the best soldiers.

“The men- the view is beautiful, Master Sergeant,” one of the female soldiers says.

“I’d have to agree. But we’re heading back to the States. There’s a riot issue in Los Angeles and they’ve called for the best to come in and help.”

“Riot control? Now, we’re talkin’, ma’am!”

“Los Angeles, California?” someone asks.

“What other Los Angeles is there, man?” a second voice replies.

You clear your throat, and everyone in the room snaps to attention. Smiling, you nod and confirm that your destination is Los Angeles, California.

“We leave at 1700 sharp. Helos are standing by. And before you ask, no, I don’t know when or if we’ll be back. LAPD is running point on this - listen closely, we are assisting. This is about the safety of US citizens. Not proving grounds or a test to become a Ranger. They’re calling the shots, but you still answer to me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” your team yells together.

“Then let’s get out there and protect our home.”

As you leave, someone whispers, “I’m gonna miss Italy.”

You agree, but your job is about more than the view from the base. As you pack to return to California, you wonder if you’ll ever be back to Italy.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Master Sergeant. Thank you for coming so quickly. I am Sergeant Wade Grey, I’m Watch Commander of the LAPD Mid-Wilshire division,” Grey introduces, shaking your hand.

“Nice to meet you, sir. Tell us where you need us, and we’ll be there.”

“We’ve got six teams out there right now, covering what we consider the biggest targets, but I’ll get you in touch with my lead Sergeant.”

“Is he in the field? We’d be happy to meet him where he is and take his direction from there.”

Wade sighs, a relieved smile appearing on his face. “You’re the best person in the state right now, Master Sergeant. He’s at the Wilshire Federal Building, the intersection of Wilshire and the 405. We’re running short on equipment, but we can get you transport.”

“Oh, we’ve got a ride. And, Sergeant Grey, feel free to drop the formalities,” you offer before telling him your first name.

“Only if you call me Wade,” he replies. “Wait- don’t tell me you have an APC parked outside my station.”

“We don’t. We have an M113 APC, a light tank, and six more vehicles waiting for a destination. You called for riot control, and we’re going to control some riots.”

“If you ever get tired of the Army, the LAPD would be happy to have you.”

“Unless you can offer me a station in Italy and as many armored vehicles as I can drive, I think I’m happy where I am.”

“Fort Irwin is scenic.”

You walk backward as you exit the office, tilting your head to the side as you consider. “Italian oceanside or California desert. Guess which I’m picking?”

“Good luck out there.”

“Thank you, sir- Wade.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The moment you jump off the side of the APC, two LAPD officers rush to you and your group of four soldiers. Splitting your team into five groups and sending one to join each of the LAPD squadrons seemed to be the best option. One of your team members introduces you to an officer, who nods and ushers you to follow him.

“Master Sergeant, this is LAPD Sergeant-“

“Bradford?”

Tim tilts his chin, his eyes the only part of his face you can see past his helmet and shield. You’d know him anywhere after countless nights of thinking of him and being inspired by him.

“Have we met, Master Sergeant?” he asks, his voice raised over the crowd gathering on Wilshire Boulevard.

Someone throws a flaming bottle of alcohol toward the steps of the building, and you motion for your team to push the crowd back.

“Later, Sergeant Bradford. Care to tell me what’s going on?” you ask.

“LA courts decided to take a bunch of cases back to trial, deal with overcrowding, standard procedures. But… you get it.”

“Don’t want ‘em out or want to make sure they do get out. Yeah, I know the answer, though I’ve never understood the thought process behind it.”

“You and me both. What are we supposed to do to show them this won’t change anything?”

Glancing at the crowd, you weigh the options. “Realistically, getting violent is only going to make this worse. I’m not suggesting a negotiation, but… what if we try stopping?”

“We’re not setting down our arms and opening the gates for them to storm the Wilshire Federal Building!” Tim yells.

“Then what would you like to do? Stand here until the trials are done?”

“That’s not-“

“Look, I don’t want to pull rank but if you’re just going to stand here and argue with me, I will, Sergeant Bradford,” you reply. His jaw clenches beneath his helmet, and you offer, “Half of your men lower their shields, a show of good faith. Then we go from there.”

Tim lowers his shield, stepping toward you to threaten, “If anything happens to my men, it is on your hands. This isn’t your home, but it’s mine.”

“I understand how this works, Sergeant Bradford. And I’m not telling you to do it alone.”

You push past him, leading two soldiers to the front line, dropping your shield, and raising your hands. The crowd members closest to you stop, looking at you curiously.

“There is a court schedule available online!” you yell. “If you have a loved one that you would like to advocate for, call the courts, call their defenders, and tell them why someone is worthy of freedom at the proper time and place! But don’t risk your own freedom, don’t take the lives of your neighbors or your peace officers in the process!”

You signal for all of the officers to raise their shields again. As the crowd storms forward, you rush into the fray, letting your training take over as you disarm the citizens around you.

“Down on the ground!” you yell, panting as the tank approaches behind you.

At the sight of the tank, the men and women standing in the road begin kneeling, lowering their weapons, and raising their hands. The LAPD rush forward, doing their jobs as you send your team to give your orders to the other soldiers you brought back to the States.

“That shouldn’t have worked,” Tim says, approaching from behind you.

Turning toward him, you sigh and remove your helmet. “Lots of things shouldn’t work, Sergeant Bradford.”

“You know my name; care to tell me why?”

Pressing your lips together to hide your smile, you walk past him, calling over your shoulder to say, “Never expected I’d have a higher ranking than you, Sarge!”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Is the Master Sergeant here?” Tim asks as he enters the bullpen.

“She’s with her team, briefing their superiors.” Wade smiles before asking, “Why would you like to know?”

“She knew my name. I can’t place her though.”

“She’s Army, you were Army… think about it, Tim.”

“I met hundreds of people in the Army, Wade-“

“Not all of them stay in the Army and work their way through the rankings because you inspired them,” you say, standing in the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“No problem,” Wade says, adding your first name while looking toward Tim.

Tim looks past you, clearly trying to place your name.

“I met you my first year, we were only in the same room for a few minutes and didn’t say more than a few words to each other. But you inspired me. You were a good soldier, a better leader, and I wanted to do what you did.”

“And now you’re a sergeant?”

Smiling, you correct, “It’s Master Sergeant, Sergeant.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You got a little drool right there,” Angela jokes, pointing to the corner of Tim’s mouth. “What’s so special about her?”

“She outranks me,” Tim answers.

“Okay. Lots of people do.”

“Yeah,” Wade adds from Tim’s other side. “You don’t look at me like that.”

“No offense, Wade, but you’re not as pretty,” Angela replies.

Tim shushes them suddenly, nodding when you turn and see him. You smile at him, yet again drawn in by Tim Bradford’s presence and leadership. His not trusting you at first, yelling at you, was somewhat unexpected, but you’ve been in his place before. Trusting people as soon as you meet them is difficult, often impossible in your profession, but Tim’s quick change makes you smile. You’re a good leader, like him.

✯✯✯✯✯

“We’ve got a problem,” Wade calls, ending a phone call. “There’s another riot at Cal State Prison. LAPD and Lancaster PD can’t handle it alone.”

“We can never make it there in time,” Nolan responds. “It’s nearly 2 hours without traffic.”

“Now would be a good time to get a private jet or something, Thorsen,” Angela calls.

You pull your phone from your pocket, typing quickly before nodding. “I need Bradford,” you tell Wade. “And your landing pad.”

“What did you do?” Tim asks.

“Sikorsky X2 is five minutes out. We can get there and drop in 20 or less.” You raise a finger to point to everyone in the room. “This stays here. I’m not supposed to know the Army has one stateside.”

“Has a what?” Aaron asks.

“Good answer.”

“It only holds two crew members, but I’ve got a team out there that can ride in a cargo area. We’re going to need backup, so if you can get airships or anything, Sergeant Grey, please do. Let’s roll.”

Tim follows you quickly, jogging to catch up with you. “How’d you pull this off?”

“Somebody owed me a favor.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That I inspired you to stay in the Army, to get here.”

“Oh.” You push open a door and begin climbing the stairs quickly. Stepping onto the roof, you look at Tim and say, “Ask me again when this is over.”

Tim waits until you turn away to smile. He can’t believe he forgot you, but your sacrificial, mutually beneficial leadership style, kindness, and abilities, not to mention that you outrank him, have him practically wrapped around your finger.

✯✯✯✯✯

Standing in the back of a helicopter and hooked to a rail, you lean out against the whipping air and feel weightless. The pain and concern of the day are wearing off, and as the sun sets, you’re glad you were asked to come to LA. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath.

Tim taps your side, and when he has your attention, he points West. The ocean is now visible, and the light ripples over the water, reflecting the pastel colors painting the sky. You smile at the view before looking back to Tim. Reaching up, you adjust the channel dial on his headset. He doesn’t even flinch at your sudden movement, and your smile grows as he leans toward you.

Looking at the soldiers behind you, you say, “If I think any of you can hear me, I’ll have you transferred to the worst base I can think of.”

No one except for Tim reacts, and he chuckles quietly.

“Okay, ask me again,” you request into your microphone.

“Did you really stay in the Army because of me?”

“Yes. You showed me what was possible, but your kindness toward me made me think I could do it too.”

“You could’ve done it without me.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Easy, Sergeant.”

“It’s-“

“Master Sergeant… when this illegally obtained helicopter lands, would you go to dinner with me?”

A soldier to your left moves, and you shake your head. “After this illegally obtained helo lands, and I have Henderson transferred to hot and humid Fort Rucker, Alabama, I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Since you outrank me, surely you get paid better, so it’s on you?”

You lean toward Tim, pausing when your headset hits his. “I could also go back to Italy and see if anyone there is willing to take me to dinner.”

“Fine,” Tim groans. “I’ll pay, but only if you stay in town long enough to show me how much my inspiration paid off.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The dinner date does not go as planned. When you enter the police station, Sergeant Major Riley awaits you. He takes you into Wade’s office to talk, and Tim stands outside waiting for you.

Being a soldier means being sent to different places with only a moment’s notice, but being at your level makes things far more difficult and irregular. Tim may have missed his chance.

“Any idea what that’s about?” Tim asks Wade.

“No clue.”

You exit a moment later, your previous smile now absent. Tim tries to hide his disappointment, but he should have known getting into a relationship with a younger, yet higher ranking, soldier would never work.

“I blame you,” you tell Wade, stopping before him and Tim.

“What did I do?” he asks incredulously.

“You said there was an opening at Irwin, but you didn’t say that you only knew that because my Sergeant Major told you.”

“He may have mentioned it.”

“Anyone want to loop me in?” Tim asks tiredly.

“I’m moving to California. Leaving Italy behind to lead a new force,” you answer sadly. “No more authentic pasta for me.”

“Wait- you’re moving to California? Irwin, which is three hours from here?” Tim interjects.

“It’s your fault too,” you remember. “I let you inspire me to be a good leader and a good teacher, but now I’m paying for it.”

Riley calls your name, beckoning you back into the office. The second time you exit, you seem a bit more pleased.

“Is the offer for that date still on the table?” you ask Tim. “Looks like my team is going to be in LA county for a few days before I can get discharged.”

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about? You're getting out?" Tim asks, raising his hands in question.

"I'm receiving another raise in rank," you tell Tim, grabbing his extended wrist and pulling him toward the door. "But not in the Army."

✯✯✯✯✯

✯✯ 1 Year Later ✯✯

“Your form needs some work, but there’s potential,” you say.

“My, uh, my recruiter said that you take potential and make talent,” the recruit before you says.

Standing, you smile. “I like to think so. But I can’t do anything without your effort. So, are you willing to put in the work to do your best?”

“Yes, ma’am, Commander.”

“Then I only have one more question. Why do you want to join FBI special operations?”

“Commander,” someone scoffs from the doorway. “It’s like you take pride in increasing the divide between our ranks.”

Glancing over, you make a “shoo” gesture before finishing the recruit’s evaluation.

“Let’s go,” you tell Tim, gathering your things. “It’s been almost a year, and we still haven’t had an uninterrupted dinner date.”

“I’m not sure we ever will, Sarge.”

You move your hands to Tim’s shoulders, brushing your lips over his before whispering, “It’s Commander, Sergeant.”

[nuumbie]

KARMA’S A DOG.

Prompt: You’re a prized worker at the IPC Marketing Department. You spend your days waiting for that flash of black.

Trigger Warning: Reader is mentally ill and a little shit head. Curse Words. General Violent Terms and Reader Gets Ragdolled. Boothill is NOT into you!!! He actually hates you! Guilt! Etc, etc… it’s just all hurt no comfort.

Author’s Note: Written to celebrate his trailer. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. Contains spoilers regarding his character story.

He’s resting peacefully. This should still count as sleep. You pose the question in your head if you replace the pieces of something, how far until the thing is something else entirely. But he’s still alive. You find relish in that. There’s something in him that still lives.

He still has his head. Maybe, that’s all he has left of his old self. You wonder how the surgery must have gone. Of course you’ve met people who’ve changed themselves so drastically with robotics that you couldn’t recognize them after the surgeries. It’s a rebirth in ways. When you change so dramatically that you’re a different person by the end. His body’s 90% metal. 10% flesh. So, wouldn’t it be the cybernetics that win?

Despite everything. You don’t think so. Perhaps, that’s all that he needs. I think therefore I am. There���s no doubt he’s alive. Not to you, anyway. He’s brimming with human life. He’s more alive than you. Not in the same way where the question poses in your mind with other beings or creatures that change themselves so drastically. Boothill is obstinately simple.

You like that. He’s simple. The Hunt and those that follow it is straight forward. A single path. A single road. You like that you don’t have to read his intentions. You know what he wants and why.

Boothill. Galaxy Ranger. IPC Hunter. The Man who just tried to sneak into your office and put a bullet through your head like he has with many of your employees, those who’ve worked directly under you no less. You know. Most criminals don’t get this far. Not far at all past Pier Point. Oswaldo will have a riot.

If he knew he would. You’re not going to tell him.

Boothill is special.

The cowboy opens his eyes. Your personal grim reaper.

“I see you’re awake.” You smile in a loving way. If you can even manage that. People who can control their expressions make it seem so easy. Laying across his chest. You’ve opened up his core to play with his inner circuits. He must not like that though considering there’s a burning hatred in his eyes which threatens to scorch you. You glance up towards his face and sigh and ignoring the lingering, simmering, resentment. His body is heating up beneath your touch. So, maybe it resonates with his feelings, you wonder if his body steams. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

It’s the opposite way around. You know that. But the very idea that it isn’t causes him to lunge at you. The cowboy turns into nothing more than a blur, all the wires connected to the body collecting samples that took at least a good thirty minutes pulled from him. Some ripped from the walls, and in instants he’s on you.

“You dang—“ his hands make its way to your shoulders, you’re flipped without hesitation. his hands grasping you down, he lays on top of you. breath heavy. robots don’t breathe, though, so you try to think of another word as he catches himself and tries to make it so he’s the one on top. “— you again!?”

“I’ve been meaning to get my hands on you… you oughta’… you ANGEL!” He screeches. Music to your ears as he shakes you more like you’re more ragdoll than person. “AEONS, it’s so freaking annoying! You absolute delight! How did I lose to…”

“Thank you so much for the compliment.” You smile back. Probably the only one getting anything out of this arrangement. Pinned against the floor hand pressed tightly against your waist so you can’t struggle. He should’ve pressed it against your mouth. But it isn’t like you’re going to scream. You’re certain. Lots of women would love to be in this position you’re currently in. But it’s you. And this is far from some sweet, pure, little romantic story. You’re not delusional. You act like you are purely because it annoys him. It’s good for him to build up his rage, his discontentment because it keeps him on his toes. “I was just looking over your upgrades since the last time you invaded Pier Point. As for asking how I beat you~…”

“The electronic upgrade was not the best idea.” You smile. “If we can control your language… your body isn’t hard especially for a renowned genius like me. Have to talk to your doctor about that. You’re lucky I’m the one that found you. Where’s my thanks? If it was anyone else. They’d have torn you asunder.”

“Aeons of COURSE you Market-Phonies have something to annoy the DANGNATION out of me.” he grinds his teeth, looking around for his pistol. making a point about how dead he wants you. you can feel his grip loosen and tighten. he’s likely processing which one would get you to be quieter. “Where’d you put it? My gun. I’ve decided. I’m killing you now. Puttin’ ya out of your misery, sweet-face! You think this is rough? Think of a 9mm lead in your skull will be?”

“Cabinet.” You put on your best smile. “Is it for me?”

“Of course for you. Love you.” You didn’t take away his ability to say hate. So, he must have said something something kike an insult. You just know it’s bad because he says it in a way that’s so vitriolic it almost hurts. “You knew this was coming. I’m not going to miss my shot again. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You did know it was coming. You wished he would get the one person above you first so you could witness your boss with his brains blown out, the outcries that an Emanator of Qlipoth killed. You could have gotten wine with Diamond and laughed about it and died happy knowing the world was washed clean forever of Oswaldo Schneider.

But you can’t be so lucky. You’ll have to wish him luck. If he actually manages to kill you that is. With how things are going? You’re not making it hard.

He grabs you by the neck so you can’t struggle away to call help. The iron hands encased over your neck like a shackle isn’t a bad feeling. You almost quote as such so he might grab you a little tighter. Sadly, it seems his finger is directly over your windpipe— making talking an impossibility. He really doesn’t want you to run. Not like you would. Dragging you as he goes towards the cabinet. He presses you against the wall one-handed.

Using his other hand to peruse through your belongings. Even if you struggled. You doubt you could make a dent against the material. You’ve always been more of a pen instead of a sword guy.

It seems he’s smarter than you thought. Since, he checks the bullets in the gun. Rather show-offishly, too. He clicks the trigger against your head and nothing comes out. He counts them out, too. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

You already knew that none of the shots would ring. But here’s a certain heart-pounding feeling even if you know it’s empty. He clutches the gun even tighter till it threatens to break between his metal appendages.

Obviously, you’ve cleaned them out. He glares at you. Of course you’re the one at fault. Of course you were smart enough to know the first thing he’d do when he woke up was try to kill you. Of course you wanted to see the look on his face when he got his gun back when he realized it was empty. “Don’t you have spares? You eat them, don’t you? Just shit them out.” You smile. It’s hard to talk with his hand on your throat.

The floor hits you. Hard.

Or maybe you hit the floor.

Either way. It hurts. Your head spins. But, you collect yourself. Maybe. Dizzy people often can’t tell they’re dizzy. “You going to kill me right? You don’t need a gun to do that. To make it painful. To get your little revenge.” You’re sputtering. Aeons. It be embarrassing if you didn’t say that. If you’re slurring. Though who are you to ask for a clean death? Innocent have died in uglier ways.

“I don’t get you.” Boothil’s boot presses against your chest and juts against your lungs— “make up your mind you wanna die or not? You’re seriously flip-flopping.”

You smile back at him from the floor. “I’d rather my employees not go down with me when you’ve got to escape. Jeremy just got a promotion. You won’t die here… will you space cowboy? So, you’ll have to make your way out.”

“Might as well limit the casualties.”

“You took everything from me.” Robots don’t stumble over their words. Robots are more precise. Everything about him is human. The way he’s so sentimental, emotional at your lap, while you can do nothing but watch. “What right do you have? You have way more blood on your hands than I do.”

“You’re not wrong.” you repeat, quietly. “It’s karma. It’s justice. I’m so happy you exist. So people like me get that just-dessert.”

“I could never ever dream of it. I could never do it with my own hands.” You smile remembering where you work. Your boss. The things you never had the confidence or strength to do yourself. “So I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”

He looks down at you.

He steps back.

You already know.

Too self-aware for your own good.

Maybe you should have shut up. You already know you’ve messed it all up. The way he looks at you is a look of disgust.

“Everyone here’s so fluffed up.” he grimaces. rubbing his shoe against the floor like he’s snuffing a cigarette out. so lowly. “Anyone the IPC touches get’s gosh-dang ruined.”

You know why he did. You ruined his life. You did. So, it was only fair he did the same in return—

Reaching out— before you realize it. “Hey, wait.”

“You’re not dragging me down with you! I want you to pay I’m not letting you off easy. When we meet again. I’ll have changed this place forever. And you’ll be forced to live with yourself…!”

He doesn’t even look back at you. You wish he did.

He lets you go and he runs out the door. You hear the sounds of loud screams. Shooting guns. It turns into a blur after a few seconds. They’re going to fail to apprehend him. You hope.

On the messy floor. Your lab a wreak. You’re sure. They’ll come here. They’ll question you.

And your life will continue as always.

You’ll lie. Jade can tell. But she won’t tell on you. You hope Oswaldo doesn’t notice. He’s the tricker.

“Fuck you, too.”

You put your hands over your eyes and you just ignore everything until someone comes and gets you. You’d use the word save. But, that’s what he was meant to do.

You’ll meet him again. You can wait. It’s all you ever do.

[ragingadhd]

Day 13 - Tattoo

(We don’t have to talk about how late this one is lol) I’ve been wanting to get this done for a hot minute now, but have been missing the right push. When I saw this gathering prompt, I sure got that push! And I’m so happy I did!! I love this so much!!!

(It’s kind of hard to read in this picture, but the words on it are “One Riot, One Ranger”)

[mezzy-1]

Clove D&D Headcanons (Valorant)

Ok, Riot put D&D into Valorant with some of Clove’s voicelines.  As a resident Valorant and D&D nerd (I’ve DMed and played more than 20 different campaigns) I wrote some headcanons.  Please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoy!  

Clove 

As the Dungeon Master, they are in control of the entire story.  Mostly...

The campaign setting is 100% Runeterra because let’s be honest, if League of Legends is canon in Valorant, then yeah D&D would be in that world too

Often meeting famous characters along the way

Currently the story is taking place against the backdrop of Piltover and Zaun fighting each other, which the party finds themselves in

The group is trying to keep the escalation low by keeping Runes from ending up in the hands of either side.  They have to balance this with their own allegiance to certain characters though

Clove’s own joy comes from writing the most fan-fic inspired story and injecting as much drama into it as possible.  Like they actively find the most dramatic way to resolve an arc

They always listen to podcasts that have campaigns.  Their favorite so far is called ‘Role a Crit’ which introduced them to the hobby 

Clove can surprisingly imitate accents despite theirs being nearly impossible to understand sometimes.  They slip into voices well too, lowering theirs to a growl or into a high pitched squeak

Has a number of playlists for battle music, fantasy ambience, and creepy sound effects for whenever they need it

They do have a character they played before joining Valorant though: a Sorcerer named Titania 

Clove keeps the character sheet and some art they drew of her in a shoebox along with some of her other belonging from her old life

Titania appears as a guiding presence for the party whenever the group needs direction or quick save.  She’s one of the favorite NPCs in the party

They revel in the moments the party realizes that there’s a huge twist or when they have a climactic battle.  The grin on their face is diabolical and hides how excited they are

Clove’s dice are from older editions and worn a bit from much use.  They have a set of dice in the colors of Non-Binary Flag they were gifted by a friend that they use most

They also have a comically large twenty sided die for boss battles too

Gekko 

He has Dizzy sit in his lap while he sips whatever he brought to the table

He’s playing a Vastaya druid called Raldo, that leads around a massive Flutterbug named “Tio” that he adopted from a nest

Every single time the group comes across some kind of animal, he is the first to try and adopt it

“Guys, we totally need to bring these little guys with us.  Think of how awesome Basilisks would be to ride into battle!”

He has a small entourage of critters everywhere he goes, which he constantly drops spells on to let them swarm everybody 

He’s played a ton with friends before, and has a bunch of dice left over from that.  He taught Neon how to build her character

As a result, he’s the first person she asks about rules and their characters started the game as a duo and stick together

Has Wingman there for fun and lets him roll his dice

Wingman has his own character in the game, courtesy of Gekko being bored one night.  It’s a simple Minion, and the group love him to death

Wingman is able to roll dice, but sticks to taking everyone’s shiny dice

This has become an ongoing issue, because Wingman likes shiny and will steal right from the table if allowed

Wings does have a character in the game.  A simple Minion that comes along with the party and just does follows 

Gekko’s dice are clear green and yellow resin dice, and plenty of marbling with shimmering resin

One of the designs on his skateboard is a Twenty Sided Die surrounded by runes and ‘Buena Suerte’ written underneath

Neon 

She’s playing a Fae Fawn ranger that is new to the world and has no idea what is going on.  She’s never played so her having no idea what’s happening is built in to her character

She named her character ‘Holly,’ after the flower because she thought it was nature-themed.  

Almost named her ‘Wreath’ but decided against it.  She had a long list of flower and nature inspired names 

Has the most unhinged plans whenever playing.  Like breaking into a fort by setting fire to the inside and blowing the drawbridge up when the guards run across

“Look we can see they’re excavating some powerful Rune.  We should just run in and grab it for ourselves and then kill them all with it right?” 

Once hit a Natural 20 to shoot a fleeing NPC with important information.  After she killed him she asked: “So did we win?  I rolled high so I think we did.”

Luckily Clove improvised that the NPC had some mysterious letter to account for the sudden shift

In the grand scheme of the story, her character has been tasked with finding out where her sister has been taken too by raiders.

Neon has the books loaded up on her phone at all times and still doesn’t get all the rules.  Gekko usually helps as well as Clove

Listens to some of ‘Role a Crit’ when she’s killing time on the treadmill.  She gossips with Clove about the latest episodes and fan theories

Neon always sort of thought the game was a bit too complex to learn.  She has since dropped the judgment and really embraced it now that she’s played

Her dice are on loan from Gekko and Clove.  A mixture shimmering teal and bright yellow sets

Neon is really getting into the community around it and some of the lore.  She mostly likes being able to talk about the game and have something in common with the others

Also bombs the chat with memes about the campaign and inside jokes

Phoenix 

A human bard but one with ties to a bunch of dragons that gave him training for magic in exchange for him entertaining them

He named his character Monte Gildedgrasp.  It’s a character he’s played in previous campaigns before

His instrument is a lute crafted with scales.  He has sound effects queued on his phone for when he uses it in the game 

Flirts with anything that moves, and sadly rolls high enough to get somewhere.  Then rolls so abysmally when he tries to commit to the bit

“You haven’t seen hot if you haven’t seen me.” he says to barmaid and has amazing charisma to back it up.  2 hours later he was robbed and stabbed by her 

“...not feeling as hot now…anyone got bandages?...”

When his character sings, he also sings and does an amazing job of it.  He already could freestyle, but doing in old English is a flex

Adds insults and mockery before rolling to attack enemies.  In Shakespearean style though so he can use some old theater skills

This man was lowkey ready to dress up but didn’t cause nobody else really would.  It’s their loss, he has a good sense for costuming 

Lends a hand to the party a lot.  His magic and healing spells come in clutch whenever the party needs it too

Clove fashioned a web of intrigue for his and Jett’s characters.  Phoenix’s dragon allies are going missing and Jett’s character may know who is causing it

It’s caused both of their characters to be slightly suspicious of another.  What’s even more fun is that both characters are also crushing on each other in spite of it

Phoenix is more than capable of giving a heart wrenching performance if needed.  When a distraught mother came to him, he delivered the most beautiful and comforting speech

His dice are on loan from Killjoy’s massive dice stash.  He picked them out himself, and promised not to singe them

A speckled rust and orange dice that have cracks of bright gold and numbers written in old Gothic font.  The numbers also glow in the dark too

Phoenix lives for the stage, so having a small outlet to act and sing a bit feels incredible for him

Jett 

Playing a human assassin that has been working her way towards a target that wronged her a long time ago

Her ex-employer is sort of the main villain.  A chem-baron that is killing magical creatures to make new weapons from their corpses

Jett’s character, Dysha, used to kill for that same chem-baron before leaving after realizing she felt guilt for the innocent lives she took

Clove loves dark backstories, so Jett is getting the full character angst and recovery treatment from NPCs and the Party

She will bluff and lie, and somehow manage to get her way because the roll is high enough.  It’s always for ridiculous lies though

“Yes I’m supposed to be in baron’s room after dark!  I’m his…uh mistress?  Why do I have a knife and have him tied up?  Uh… roleplay?...”

That incident is not to be brought up by the party unless they also want to die

She uses her character as an excuse to do things with friends in sort of a lowkey way.  Being able to cook some food and eat it together is main reason for coming

The fun story and in-jokes are a bonus

She is the second flirtiest after Phoenix’s character, and the two constantly have their characters flirt and have romantic moments

Phoenix’s character soon discovered she helped kill one of his draconic mentors in a twist orchestrated by Clove.  It was such a huge shock to the whole group

Jett and Phoenix flexed their acting skill by having the characters make up and agree to no more secrets between them.  Then they kissed (but insisted it was only performance)

Nobody believes them.  

Her dice are metal and come in a tin decorated with so many stickers.  She bought them at a comic shop in LA the younger agents visited once

Jett lives for dramatic stories about betrayal, love and misunderstanding so she’s dying to see where the campaign leads

Killjoy

She was the first person to tell Clove to try getting a group together at the protocol knowing full well it would work

She’s obviously played for a long time, and been entrenched in geek culture as a result

Yordle named Suza with a whole lot of Hextech gadgets.  She is smol and the group protects her like a little sister

Potentially deranged though, she invents insanely big guns and uses them for just about everything

Killjoy cackles in her character’s airy voice as she releases a bunch of dice into a box and counts the damage numbers 

Is the most versed with rules because she’s played the game forever, and leverages it constantly 

Places artillery and gives advice to the party for combating certain creatures they encounter.  Essentially she plays both for the characters and because she likes wargames

“I understand that we might not have access to modern technology, but we could easily use magic to fabricate the parts of a Nanoswarm and use magic to then animate it!”

Has done makeup based on her character and shown up in clothing matching the aesthetic of Suza.  She’s dedicated to fully embracing it

Has one really big artillery cannon she wheels around called the Krieg that the party can use once in a while.  She rolls a ton of dice for the damage it puts out 

She instantly calculates rolls as well, and has a bit of a habit of metagaming because of that because she’ll run odds 

Doesn’t let that get in the way of her story though

Her character had a bunch of her own blueprints stolen by some Zaunites and she aims to take them back before they build machines of war from them

Met Raze’s character by getting saved by her in the first session.  The two are inseparable in game and in real life

Total dice goblin, like has an entire bag filled with them buried in one of her drawers

Uses a mixture of dice from rare events and collections, 

Her favorite are some that Raze made from pouring resin into a mold and hydro dipping in yellow and orange

Killjoy is glad Clove has the campaign because meeting a fellow nerd is always great 

Raze 

She plays a buff Chirean named Pearl that was part of the Firelight gang before leaving on her own quest

Has a hoverboard because of this and wields a length of pipe covered in razor wire.  Has a scavenger vibe to her 

Shamelessly flirts with Killjoy’s character at the table, and the party is FOR IT

“Hey Suza, I could really use some repairs to my board.  Mind coming over to the garage and giving it a look?” said while leaning in to a blushing Killjoy

Surprisingly gets really into character, playing a stoic badass that has a chaotic streak  She lowers her voice and shifts her body language to match the vibe

Also her character has a tendency to put people into headlocks and bearhug them.  This is acted out in real life

Pearl is surprisingly the heart of the group and has a tendency to sit with the characters and talk things out with them 

She ended up helping with Dysha and Monte’s own falling out by supporting them both and holding them together after they made up

Never misses a chance in game to ram her hoverboard into someone and punch them in the jaw.  She has a collection of gold teeth she’s knocked from other people

Her character introduced herself by nearly breaking Gekko’s wrist in an armwrestling competition

Draws all of the characters at one point in her free time.  The art caused so much hype when she unveiled it at the session

Her character is a bruiser, but a bruiser with a heart and a wish to see the world she knows become better

Raze’s own dice are partially on loan from Killjoy’s massive collection which happen to be her favorites

They are an assortment of dice that make a rainbow, each one being a different color and transparency

Killjoy taught her to play over the course of a few sessions with the group and the two sit together at the table because Raze would always want some help

It’s stayed that way for obvious reasons

Yoru

Was begged to join, and eventually relented for a few weeks before leaving and agreeing only to come back at the end of the campaign

He’s playing as a Voidborn swordsman, specifically inspired by old Samurai movies.  Yoru didn’t care about making a character but just took a pregenerated one off of Clove

Turns out, Clove knew how make a character Yoru didn’t hate playing.  Especially cause she gave him a cool backstory 

His character, Tets’ Uya, is the banished leader of an army of Voidborn.  After regaining some more power, he will get revenge for his banishment

Raze and Him frequently go on rampages in combat because that’s his favorite thing to do.  He usually finishes off enemies, so he gets to describe how he kills them

“I take the pirate captain by the throat and hold him over the ocean.  Tets’ Uya whispers, ‘you’ll do better as a corpse than as a captain,’ then he drops him in.”

Sick moments like that, especially because Yoru leans into the intimidation his character has and has the group back him up

Even though he sometimes gets bored out of his mind waiting for a turn, he pays enough attention while checking something else

After a while his character left the group because Yoru was done.  He returned his dice back to Clove and started a project in the garage 

A couple weeks later during a climactic battle between some Celestials and Zaunites, Yoru showed up with his character to back the group up for the final showdown

Clove went to hand him his dice, but he instead pulled out a tin of dice he bought himself

It was a cobalt steel set with machined Hiragana numbers instead of the standard numerals

His character and the group ended up killing a Celestial and wiping a squad of Chemtanks with some lucky rolls before declaring victory

Yoru doesn’t join often, but when he comes in as a guest, he’s more than welcome

(Bonus Content)

Cypher tries to play as a mage and would always roll really high on important stuff.  He has loaded dice he swapped in every couple of turns

Fade joined in as a Catfolk and scared Clove back to death when she got really into character during an interrogation.  

Viper doesn’t admit it to anyone, but she played D&D as a kid but found it hard to keep groups together

Omen tried to learn it but with his own stuff going on treated it more as a random occasion.  He joins in as a guest character that does healing stuff

XXXXX unironically loves playing as a knight that is sworn to kill giant monsters and dragons for the safety of the realm.  XX also yells at the dice if they roll low

[rogueddie]

Creature Feature Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 🖤

Who Embraces the Monsters

novemberthorne

"I'll never fucking forget you," Steve tells Eddie genuinely, letting himself feel all those vulnerable things he usually just swallows down.

Eddie just looks.

The black ink under his skin has spread into his face, and it's pulsing, shifting under the surface, moving like a living thing. It's seeped into his eyes, black bleeding into the white of them and starting to take over.

Then Eddie smiles, and it's a monster's smile.

"Go," he just says.

And despite every cell in his body rioting against it, Steve leaves.

Words : 10,373 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Cassiopeia, Orion, Bootes

AidaRonan

When Steve finds the flyer for Bayou Bobby's midnight swamp tours, he's excited to finally get the opportunity to do something interesting on his work trip to New Orleans. Until he finds out he's human bait for something that lives in the swamp. Something with claws and scales and eyes that glow red in the moonlight.

Words : 10,780 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

and the ships are left to rust

severaldragons

There is something strange in Lovers Lake, and Eddie Munson is a sucker of the highest order.

Words : 4,499 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Don't Talk to Strangers (Cause They're Only There to Do You Harm)

montemoon

Eddie Munson decides to summon a demon, he gets Steve. What's the worst that could happen?

Words : 12,110 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

paradise by the dashboard light.

oaseas

Things were weird in Hawkins. The fields were rotting, there was something in the woods, and Steve Harrington's Beemer had a new problem every week.

Words : 154,035 Chapters : 8/8 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Hic sunt dracones

Just_my_latest_hyperfixation

The day that Prince Steven Harrington turns twenty is the first sunny spring day after a seemingly endless spell of heavy rain that left the castle grounds drowning in mud and its inhabitants freezing and miserable in the inescapable dampness of everything.

But that is not why he will remember it so vividly for the rest of his life.

It is also the day that his father, King Richard, chooses to ride off into war with great fanfare, to strengthen the glory of Hawkins and expand its wealth and territory.

But this also isn’t why the day will be forever ingrained in his memory.

No, the actual reason Steve knows that he will not forget his twentieth birthday until the moment his heart stops beating and his eyes close forever is an entirely different one.

It is the day he finds the dragon.

Words : 99,706 Chapters : 15/15 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

I’m on the Hunt (I’m After You)

OhlioOh

Odd is Eddie Munson’s thing, acquiring knowledge of the esoteric and strange a core tenet of his personality. Yet Hawkins National Park had been one big, beautiful blind spot. Plenty of people visit, plenty of people vanish, and yet not a soul is talking about it.

Something is stalking these woods, and Eddie is going to be the one to find it.

If only Park Ranger Steve Harrington wasn’t such a giant, unfairly attractive pain in his ass.

Words : 16,362 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Runnin' With the Devil

Monsterunderthefedora

Eddie "The Freak" Munson continues to live up to his name when he tries to summon a demon as a joke. Not only does it work but now he's stuck with the guy until he can finally decides what he's willing to trade his soul for.

Steve just wants to finish the job as quickly as possible but despite himself, finds he's falling in love with the mortal who summoned him. He knows this won't end well for either of them.

Words : 17,412 Chapters : 15/15 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

I'm Going Through Changes

Hawkkind

When Steve Harrington tossed all the kids up out of the tunnels to safety, knowing he'd be left behind for the pack to feast on, he had expected to die. One moment he was in extricating pain, begging for release, the next? He was waking up, dazed, confused, and impossibly alive.

Post rebirth, he's dealing with strange cravings. Not exactly his fault, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Now in this time of uncertainty, how is he supposed to explain to the local drug dealer that he is not in fact, tweaking out and or a murderer.

Words : 2,961 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

[reine-du-sourire]

They say "one riot, one Ranger", but I think it should be "one Ranger, one riot" sometimes. As a little treat.

[veny-many]

I'm playing Fallout: New Vegas these days. One of my home base game which I enjoyed my stay for a long time ago.

And they have cool armors too. I don't need power armor I have cool Ranger gear and Riot gear.

And sketched my favorite SW peoples in My favorite NV outfits because why not.

+) At Palpatine's bunker

Palpatine: You fools, think you can stop me, Jedis?

Anakin: [The Chosen One] Yes, I think!

Ahsoka: [Terrifying Presence] I'll decorate this bunker with your despair and scream.

Obi-wan: [JEDI] Ahsoka, That's not a Jedi way.

Ahsoka: [SPEECH 75] But Master, I'm not a Jedi anymore.

Obi-wan: [SUCCESS] That makes sense.

[aciddaffodil]

Winter 2024- What I Finished

So as this anime season is coming to an end. Here are the shows I actually kept up with and overall enjoyed immensely.

There will be spoilers so be warned lol

The Unwanted Undead Adventurer

I have enjoyed this series, the way Rentt is so determined to become a mithril-class adventurer even as an undead. The 3D models for the fight scenes move pretty well with the background matching them, especially in episode 9. This series is a slow-burn, even with the story progression, but I appreciate it because we see so much character growth for Rentt and how he interacts with the people and his friends. The music is fairly average for the series, but it does have some good moments especially when Rentt is in thought or making a choice. I loved coming full circle and him regaining his "human" features even though he still is very much a vampire now. Shun Narita, the composer for the series had some standout moments (fight scenes and contemplativeness) of music throughout the season so hats off to him.

The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic

I fell in love with the humor of this series from the get-go and not a single episode is a disappointment. It is so full of life and this past week for episode 11, the line " Now that's the wrong way to use healing magic" was used in a perfect moment. The lead up of Usato's characters growth and seeing all his hard work and "torture" from Commander Rose's training *actually* matter was brilliant. Element Garden has done a great job with the music that just gets your blood pumping. Probably will make a separate post for this series once it's over.

A Sign of Affection

The shoujo everyone is talking about, FOR GOOD REASON. To see the romance between the leads develop was so satisfying and wholesome. The development of the side characters so far is handled well, and at times the flashbacks scenes take over an episode but they are necessary. The art style and the use of lighting are done so well. It was a very cute show and always will love seeing an adult romance.

Solo Leveling

What can I say that hasn't been said already? I started reading the manwha in 2019 and have reread many times since. Hiroyuki Sawano was a great choice and the soundtrack WILL be on loop once it's released fully. Smart pacing choices to have it end with him gaining a job, this week will be a blast of an episode. Wish it had been slotted for 24 episodes... The last two episodes KILLED it, the animation, the music?! I was on cloud nine.

Mr. Villains Day Off

A perfect wholesome background anime, that is just about a Villian who loves pandas on his days off. The episodes where they focus on the Rangers aren't super interesting and makes you question the ethics of the world? It's a very cute show and sometimes, it's just a need in life. Ending was split between resolving the previous episode and the lead up to the Rangers and the Villian's battle.

Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss but I'm Not the Demon Lord

The Isekai'd into an Otome game genre is SO saturated but somehow I ended up loving this show. Yumielle is so autistic coded and straightforward, no one quite knows how to react to her. Patrick is head over heels for her, not that she ever notices, and they're dynamic is adorable. I have laughed watching this show and the only reincarnation anime that didn't bog me down with guessable plot.

Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!

I fell so hard for this anime that I binge read the manga...who's art is definitely butchered in the adaption, it's so wholesome but the way episode 11 ends off MY GOD the miscommunication hurts me, and people will definitely riot watching the finale...and then picking up the manga to suffer for 40 chapters...BUT it's worth it. Tsubasa and Fuyuki all the way, they're chemistry is the best in the show as they each influence each other to open up, to be serious about the future and to help themselves grow as people. So sad to see this show go but maybe we'll get another season?

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!

This anime has me kicking my feet in joy and makes me miss my long-distance partner so fucking much. When Kurosawa and Adachi kissed? I was whooping in happiness. Adachi has a lot of room to grow with his communication with Kurosawa but pretty sure the final manga cover is a wedding outfit? My poor notes app I use to write my thoughts/observations as I watch seasonal anime is " SO GAY. KISS PLEASE." for several episodes between them. I loved that the end credits was the wedding but I can't wait to read the manga to compare it!

Gushing Over Magical Girls

I'm not one to watch ecchi shows but this, THIS is just such a delight to watch. Utena is such a loveable protagonist, a magical girl loving person who gets turned into a villain and has to "fight" the girls she loves. By fighting its not LMAO. I adore all the characters in this show and how fresh the writing for them is. Its beautifully animated and the finale was so much fun to watch!

Mashle S2 - Divine Visionary Arc

I picked up the first volume at the bookstore halfway through the season to try reading, after Bling-Bang-Bang-Born blew up, and I was not disappointed. Binged Season 1 and caught up in a day. There's just something so satisfying with gag humor and shounen fight scenes. I love everyone (besides for Innocent Zero, fuck that guy) and will for sure be binge reading the manga. The music, as always, is so hype and having rap for the fight scenes is very interesting. The soundtrack for S2 just released yesterday and has some amazing tracks on it.

Shangria-La Frontier

What. An. Amazing. Show. Never thought I'd like a VR Gaming anime as much as I do now, but this was just so vibrant and humorous. Sunraku's tenacity at gaming and taking on challenges, plus my love for rogue/assassin builds from DND, made him such a likeable character. The entire Weathermon fight to be slotted for 4 episodes was just..gorgeous and stunning. The Music?!? God its perfection. The NPC's of Rabitzu... to have characters and just to not be weird was very much appreciated to me. I sincerely wish it had the fandom that other Fall 2023 shows, cough cough Frieren, Undead Unluck and Apothecary Diaries, has because I just want more merch sobs. The cosplans I have for this show? Too many, and its already in production for another 2 cour season for this fall!!

The Apothecary Diaries

What a spectacular show and fabulous 24 episodes. The animation, the music (Satoru Kosaki, Kevin Pinken, Alisa Okehazma), the characters, the backgrounds?! I enjoyed watching the characters interact and loved the humor in the animation. I also just read and caught up with the manga in 2 days...so it's that good and a worthwhile watch and read!

[nrdmssgs]

Seven Devils: the wolf

AN: So @sofasoap and @siilvan nudged @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot to make a little fantasy AU for our original characters, Lastochkas. I also had some ideas, so here is my little story about how my Zhar Ol`kha met Riot Calliara. This is not a straight transition of our CallOfDuty Ocs into some fantasy world. I just took their archetypes and placed them into a new world. TWs: none. Characters: Ol`kha the beast tamer (you may know her as Olga Zhar Samoilova), Calliara the ranger (Christine Riot Vega may ring a bell), and Sebastian the goat (Krueger)

Walking in the night felt easier: no avoiding hunters, no hiding from a too warm midsummer sun, no breathing in the trail dust. Big paws silently hit a ground, bounced easily from soft greenery and carried her forward. Wind brought her distant night voices: lonely night bird cries, nocturnal beasts hisses, travelers horses snorting, last cracks of logs dying in campfires. This late hour was her time: a massive shadow, surging forward with a ghost-like softness, someone's death embodied in a beastly figure of a direwolf.

She wasn't hungry, but when a barely perceptible smell of baked goods reached her nose - Calliara stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes glinted like molten gold in the dim moonlight, scanning the surroundings with a predatory focus. The wolf and the elf didn't always have exactly the same culinary tastes, but when it came to something sweet, puffy and freshly-baked? These were the times when both halves of Calliara's heart bet in unison. The decision was made quickly: she changed the direction of where she was moving to with one jump.

The direwolf's coat, a thick pelt of shadowy grays and silvers, blended seamlessly with the night, making her a phantom among the trees coming closer to a little fire and a tent before it. The heavenly scent of sweet buns was mixing with so many new smells now: a cozy aroma of dried herbs and hay, a light note of soap, something almost milky, and... a pungent odor of a buckthorn. Calliara froze and wrinkled her grey nose, silently revealing a row of shiny teeth.

Who could smell so nicely and bring this nasty stuff to a campfire? What an idiot would ruin a beautiful symphony of aromas with burning a whole bouquet of oily leaves?

She silently approached the tent and sighed: of course it was a tiefling. Calliara wasn't susceptible to the village tales that tieflings and demons were one and the same. But she knew well enough, the habits of this species can be exotic to say the least. They could enjoy their food so spicy - any other race except dragonborns would choke, they longed for warmth even on the hottest day, it only made sense, one of them found comfort in this stench. The stranger lied on the ground before the tent. Her bare feet were so close to the fire - its flames almost licked her fingers. Twisted horns peeked out from a shock of dark hair, and a pale tail slightly trembled over her curled posture. Calliara sniffed woman's face and turned back to the fire - it seemed, that all the bad smell came from it and not from the stranger. The direwolf growled in displeasure and accidentally inhaled the smoke that the wind directed straight into her face.

Heavy stinking air filled her lungs, her throat constricted by a merciless spasm. She shook her head, clenched her teeth and instinctively took a step back. Only then did she realize why the stranger had thrown some fresh buckthorn branches into the fire. It's scent was barely perceptible to humanoids, but for other creatures the pungent stench was almost unbearable.

The she-wolf coughed stifledly despite all her efforts to remain quiet. And then a second realization came to her. The stranger had a reason for sleeping so close to the fire. Opening her eyes, she grabbed a flaming firebrand with one smooth and incredibly fast movement and waved it centimeters in front of Calliara's muzzle.

A primal fear bared her fangs, awakening a thunderous roar that burst from her mouth with a stream of hot steam. Muscles rippled beneath the direwolfs skin as she jumped back and bent down to the ground, raising the fur on the back of her neck.

The tiefling took a defensive stance, bending her knees springily, preparing to jump. The firebrand in her hand was burning more intense with every next second, but flames coiling in hot rings around her wrist didn't seem to bother her at all. The last traces of a peaceful dream left her face as she spoke.

"Want to test, what is faster: a wolf or fire catching in its fur?"

The animal made a sound that vaguely resembled a human chuckle. The stranger should have screamed and run from a big bad wolf, yet here she was - daring the forest beast, that could easily end her. Calliara had a soft spot for a good dare, so she accepted the challenge. She heard the tieflings heart pounding like a war drum, felt how the strangers fingers started to tremble under a low grumbling growl, that reverberated through the ground. They both braced themselves, and for a moment, time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to the space between them.

The she-wolf jumped forward so easily as if her body didn't weigh anything. Instead of attacking, the beast arced over the tieflings head, in a blur of motion. The stranger spun, eyes wide, as the creature landed gracefully behind her, barely disturbing the underbrush.

"You are... playing?" The woman's voice was low and rich with undertones. Even with a worried intonation, she sounded calming to Calliara.

The direwolf grinned contentedly, not taking her eyes off the tiefling. But before the woman could react, the beast bounded into the forest, disappearing into the embrace of the shadows. The chance meeting turned into a victory and Calliara was satisfied, forgetting about the enticing smell of baked goods that led her to the stranger.

***

The morning light filtered through the dense forest canopy and casted intricate patterns on the milky white skin. A forest lake draped with a thin layer of mist shimmered like a liquid sapphire. Little droplets rolled down her chest, as Calliara breathed in scents of pine and wildflowers. Stands of long white hair cascaded over soft shoulders, floated around her body.

Although she was never here before - this place felt like home. She was at peace there. She was safe until she heard a familiar voice in a rather concerning proximity.

"There is a direwolf prowling around. Watch your back, fine lady."

"This fine lady is more a threat than a meal." The elf answered and turned to the shore and met the gaze of the night stranger leaning against a tree. "And she has reflexes sharper than a fine hunter."

The tiefling scanned her for a few minutes, not shying away, but then a fine mesh of wrinkles gathered around the corners of her eyes and her mouth stretched into a smile.

"They call me Ol`kha. I'm not a hunter." She extended her hand to the elf.

"Calliara. And they don't usually call me a fine lady." The elf chuckled and took tieflings hand, getting out of the water.

Usually she needed more time to relax in a presence of anyone new, but Ol`kha radiated a calm authority - the one, that said "you're safe around me" to any wild heart. During the breakfast they shared, the elf learned that her new acquaintance was a beast tamer.

"Not a beast slayer - a beast tamer: I take them alive, and it's my job to bring them from the wilderness alive and well," stressed, tiefling, breaking a sweet bun and giving her a half.

The elf shyly accepted the treat and hurried to bombard her acquaintance with questions, distracting her from the blush that played on Calliaras cheeks.

High elves had a saying about those like Ol`kha - 'this one knows its ways around the wild as a leaf knows its ways in the wind'. That meant, that even those, not bound to nature as strongly as elves, animals or druids, could sometimes merge their lives with the ways of elder forests.

Calliara didn't even notice how easily she offered to walk part of the path together, since they were heading in the same direction. She unconsciously reached out to the tiefling, watching in fascination the smooth movements of Ol`kha, the play of light on her twisted horns, the freckles appearing on her fair skin.

Tieflings attire seemed practical and well-suited for her journey—a blend of leather and cloth that allowed her to move with agility and comfort. At her side hung a variety of tools, some recognizable like a coiled whip and a curved khopesh, others more mysterious, their purposes known only to those skilled in the art of beast taming.

Callaiara couldn't help but notice how the beasts of the forest, sensing the tamer's presence, peered cautiously from their hiding places. As if they knew her scent, her voice, the gentle touch she could offer as well as the firm hand she wielded when needed. Ol`kha was a bridge between the worlds of man and beast. A bridge, Calliara desperately needed.

Walking their path together turned out much easier than doing so alone. Even a wheelbarrow, Ol`kha pushed before her all the way, didn't slow them down. The elf suggested to help her a few times, but got rejected.

While settling down for the night, Calliara couldn't resist asking what her friend had been carrying with her all this time. The tiefling approached the wheelbarrow and pulled back the dark cloth, revealing to the elf's gaze a whole bunch of dry leaves of the ash tree, sacred to the local elves.

"So you carry leaves to elves who cannot make pilgrimages to worship the sacred groves themselves?" Calliara wasn't too sentimental about local elven customs, but still appreciated the fact that this woman got so much compassion for them.

“M-hm, in a way…” Ol`khas voice grew distant and cold, as she covered the leaves and began to filling her elegant long clay pipe with tobacco.

The elf quickly changed the subject and until late at night they talked about their travels, the past and plans for the future. Ol`kha did not hide anything except perhaps the final goal of her journey. But Calliara knew firsthand how difficult it can be to share something secret, so she did not insist.

From the first day together, without much discussion, they developed a routine that suited them both. One cooked, the other cleaned, one set up the tent, the other found wood for a fireplace, one filled their camp with the sweet, spicy smoke of pipe tobacco, while the other sang old elven songs. Ol`kha didn't ask the elf, where she was disappearing every night and she in return never asked the tiefling, why did she set up a tent every night, yet slept on a ground before it.

One morning, Calliara gathered their canteens and bottles to fill them in a nearby stream, but her friend stopped her.

“In your place, I wouldn't touch that,” she was pointing at one of the bottles, the elf was carrying. The bottle was half full with some cloudy liquid with an unappetizing coating. In response to the question frozen in elven blue eyes, the tiefling added, “These lands are crawling with scrabblers. Literally: these blind giants with stone skin and enormous jaws nest in underground caves and have dug passages all over the area. What these beasts lack in sight, they compensate for with incredible hearing and smell. Spill a few drops of something that irritates them... like a few drops of sour firewine, and the ground you're standing on will turn into living waves, burying everything beneath them.” “And this,” Calliara rose the bottle, “is half a bottle of said wine? That you brought here, knowing well what it might cause?” “Exactly,” said Ol`kha and her lips curved into a satisfied smile.

***

In three days they were standing at the edge of dense forest, that didn't dare to absorb a little village of half elves. The village itself was nestled among the remains of ancient elven ruins, its wooden structures a stark contrast to the elegant, vine-covered arches and weathered stonework that peeked out from beneath the earth.

Ol`kha glanced at the flimsy village gates and turned back to Calliara.

“This, my friend, is where our paths part. Ugly things are about to unravell here, and I will appreciate it if you don't witness them.” The tiefling smiled awkwardly and started securing a torch to the edge of her wheelbarrow.

Calliara always had problems with authority. Specifically asking her to not do something was the easiest way to make her do exactly that with all the passion she could possibly master. Unfortunately for her, Ol`kha knew nothing of this, so they spent several long minutes arguing. The elf refused to abandon her friend in her hour of need, and the tiefling came up with excuse after excuse to send Calliara as far away from the village as possible. In the end, they came to a compromise: Ol`kha would go to the gate alone, and Calliara would make sure that her friend entered the settlement safely, without leaving the dense undergrowth.

Calliaras vision was sharp enough to notice the confusion in the eyes of the gate guards growing with every step the tiefling took. They didn't dare to rise their weapons even when OL`kha stopped right before them and barked “let me in” in an irritated voice. Nobody moved or answered her, and Calliara sighed with relief, loosening his grip on the tight bend of her bow.

“I said, let me in now!” The tiefling's voice took on a dark, muffled tone.

“Go away, Ol`kha! We don't want you here!” A wrinkled face framed by silver braids with light ribbons and beads strung on them appeared in the doorway of the slightly opened gate. Calliara immediately recognized the ribbons that the half-elven elders braided into their hair.

“I will make you want me in your walls, moron…” The tiefling grumbled and grabbed the torch. Calliaras heart was calm despite the situation, before she heard the last words that left Ol`khas lips and killed the peaceful silence around. 

“Give me back the kid!” She shouted and dropped the flaming torch into the wheelbarrow. 

A bundle of silver leaves burst into flames like cheap paper. As if on cue, the walls around the settlement bared their teeth with guards pointing their bows in her direction. They all waited for the signal from the elder, who watched in horror as the relic's fragments burned out. In just a few seconds, there was nothing but ash and a thin thread of smoke left. The elder took a step to the tiefling, then another and another one. When there were mere centimeters between their faces - Ol`kha spoke once again, this time softer, quieter, almost pleading.

“The kid, my kid… Please!”

The elder's movement was so hasty that Calliara did not immediately understand what had happened. Only a ringing clap reached her ears, and the tiefling swayed and covered her cheek with her hand. The elf did not think for a second longer - her arrow flew dangerously close to the elder's face. The old man turned to the forest thicket in fear and ordered the guards to take the tiefling away.

Calliara waited, believing, that Ol`kha indeed had some kind of plan that wouldn't have her end in a far village in captivity. But her friend didn't fight or protest when the guards twisted her arms behind her back. And then Calliara snapped.

“Len suilon.*” She emerged from the bushes and strode towards the elder with a cold angry flames already dancing in her eyes.

The half-elf tried to greet her, but she cut him off, switching from Elven to Common. 

“What's your name?”

“I eneth nîn-*”

“You part a mother with her child! Don't you dare defile the High Speech with your tongue!” Calliara couldn't care less about a contrived and essentially false hierarchy that some half-elves in these remote places obeyed. But pushing some authority, even an ill one, felt right when it came to saving her friends. 

“Yennan, milady.” The elder bowed deeply and glanced back at Calliara with faded grayish eyes ingratiatingly. He took her by the hand and started muttering, leading her into the village, “this abomination is not what she claims to be. You saw her destroying sacred leaves just to mock us! And that thing, she calls her kid… that's just some nonsense! We apologize for this filthy scene, you had to witness. Let us make amends by inviting you to our weekly hymns and the evening meal. Share with us the peace and comfort of this blessed grove, and let us make it up to the higher sister by showing our respect to the old ways.”

‘Respecting the old ways’ turned out into a tour, in which Yennan was showing Calliara, how good of followers of elven traditions they were. When he wasn't consumed by an anger - there was even some grace noticeable in his pose and movements. His eyes surveyed the village with an evident sense of pride. 

Calliara didn't listen to the elders stories full of poorly concealed arrogance - her thoughts were still with Ol`kha. She noticed, how Yennan avoided the stone building, which seemed to have survived from the ancient times when the high elves inhabited this place, so her eyes never left the outlines of white stone walls. The elf's heart ached with worry, but she maintained her composure, knowing that any sign of distress might endanger her friend further.

The tour continued, Yennan leading her through the village's cobblestone paths. "Here," he gestured, "is our communal garden, where we cultivate herbs and vegetables. We share everything we grow -"

“What's going to happen to her?” Calliara cut the elder off, and, noticing his confused face, added, “When are you going to give my friend her child back?”

“Milady, it is not as easy as you imagine,” the elder hesitated for a moment.

“You have, who she wants? Give them to her. It's that easy!” Calliaras voice resembled a low animalistic growl.

“The thing, she called the kid, is the ungodly creature, exiled from the five Great Kingdoms and dozens of shrines. Its sins and crimes are countless, its march down our lands had to be stopped!” Yennan clasped his hands together and shook his head repeatedly, as if even a mere thought about his prisoners brought him dread. 

She insisted on visiting Ol`kha, but the elder kept postponing her visit to the prison. There was always ‘another house’, ‘another shrine’ to see and Calliara didn't want to push her ‘Higher elf’ authority too much. 

It was only after she attended the feast in her honor and endure through countless empty talks, when Yennan surrendered and let Calliara into their prison. It stood at the edge of the settlement, nestled against the backdrop of towering trees that whispered secrets to the wind. The building, constructed from ancient stone, bore the marks of time with a dignified grace. 

She hadn't even entered the building yet, but a dull rhythmic knock had already reached her ears. The elf quickened her pace, descending into the dungeon and was met by a frightened guard.

"Please, make her stop, this is unbearable," the poor fellow begged, trying to shout over the knocking, which was heard here much more clearly. Calliara measured him with a glance and demanded that he give her Ol`kha's belongings. Embarrassed and apologetic, the guard gave her everything except the weapons and metal tools.

"I will give you the rest on your way back, mistress. Forgive me, but we cannot allow her to receive weapons."

The heavy thud of iron hitting stone echoed off the empty walls of the dungeon. It was no mystery, why the poor guard begged her cut this sound off. 

Only one cell seemed to be occupied, but as the elf passed the bars, hands from other prisoners reached out from the darkness toward her.

Only when she reached Ol`kha's cell did Calliara recognize the source of the thud. The tiefling grabbed the edges of the wrought-iron bench that served as a bed, and with a soft groan, lifted one end of the bulky structure and let it go. The bench's legs crashed onto the stone floor with a bang, sending up a cloud of dust and crumbs. The stone slab beneath the bench was clearly pitted from repeated blows.

"I thought you had a plan," Calliara said, resting her forehead on the cold bars.

Ol`kha turned to her briefly, snorted in displeasure, and lifted the bench again with visible effort.

"Why didn't you tell me they were holding your child here?!"" The elf was starting to lose her patience.

"Go away, Calliara," the tiefling muttered.

“So that you can go on with this useless banging? This won't free you or your little one. Ol`kha, my dear, please, take a pause and talk to me!”

Her friend finally let go of the bench and wiped her wet forehead with her sleeve. Her tail flicked in irritation, but when she turned back again, her face was indifferent. Her gaze slid over Calliara and stopped at her hands holding the captive's things in an armful.

“You brought me gifts! Nice!” With those words Ol`kha quickly grabbed the bottle from her friend's hands, open it and took a good sip. “Firewine never fails me. Good stuff, want to try?” “Great, now you're making a fuss and drinking. Way to go, friend…” The elf ignored the bottle Ol`kha held out to her and hissed a response with undisguised irritation. After all, why should she endure this ‘performance’ if she came to help her friend? The tiefling however, stopped paying any attention to her, took another sip and returned to her bench.

“I'm dragging you out one way or another!” Calliara dropped her friend's belongings and hit a massive prison bar with her knee. “Just make sure you're not blackout drunk by that time!”

She was about to go away, when her friend's nimble hand grabbed the folds of her cloak and pulled the elf back.

“The leaves have already been burned, the daughter of the grove. Now run, before the forest starts marching.” Ol`khas words only made the elf clench her fists in a silent anger.

Calliara emerged from the village prison with a stormy expression, her emotions as turbulent as the swirling winds in the surrounding forest. Her heart pounded in rhythm with her quickened footsteps as she crossed the courtyard, fury and frustration mixing like a volatile potion in her chest. Her friend's words made no sense whatsoever - elven deities couldn't care less about a bunch of burnt leaves. Wars came and went and even that wasn't enough to awake their anger. And Ol`kha was trying to mock them with this? 

“Ridiculous,” Calliara said through her teeth.

***

Evening was slowly approaching the village. The mossy roofs were first painted in golden hues, then scarlet, and then completely glowed with bluish fluorescent lights when the night plants covering them woke up in the evening coolness. Calliara refused the elder's offer to spend this night in his house, and looked askance at the villagers leading an idle life, as if nothing special had happened today before their eyes. She was angry at them smiling at her, but taking the child away from the mother. She was angry at Ol`kha, who began to seem so mature and wise to Calliara, and then fell into useless and stupid idolatry.

The direwolf inside her was bursting to get out, asking to be released, to run through these streets, to sow fear, to take away what she considered hers. Even if it was her friend. But the elf did not weaken her self-control. She waited for the deep night. Good things often happened in her life just before dawn. So it was worth laying low for now.

To distract herself, Calliara tried to meditate: she closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of her heartbeat. But it still seemed to her that the dull metallic knock was reaching her ears from the dungeon. She realized that this was impossible: the prison building was too far away. And yet, for every six heartbeats, there was another beat coming from outside. It took a lot of effort for the elf to calm down, and when the rhythm of her heartbeat slowed down significantly, the annoying sound seemed to die down.

“Losto mae, mellon,*” whispered Calliara and smiled relaxed, letting her eyes rest for a moment.

She thought of last Ol`khas words and decided to educate her friend on a topic of elven gods later when she takes her out of the prison. ‘... run, before the forest starts marching.’ Nonsense. One would need an army of finest druids to make it happen.

‘... before the forest starts marching.’ An absurdity. Calliara wasn't even sure, there was any kind of magic powerful enough to make this happen.

‘... the forest starts marching.’ That's a pure madness. 

And then she snapped back to reality and jumped up. Before the full realization kicked in, she already was running to the prison. Little pieces of puzzle came together: the bottle, Ol`kha snatched from her hands first ting, that chip on a stone surface growing deeper with each thud, that thing Calliara learned from her about the firewine earlier…

“You never wanted to break free from that prison.” Calliara felt a wave running after her underground. The world around shook in a vast spasm and she almost fell down. “You wanted the whole village to go down!”

The air was filled with the sound of splintering wood and cries of alarm as the half elves stumbled out of their homes. They hurried into the streets, creating a flow of people moving away, from the center of the village.

Calliara went against the crowd. Her thoughts were solely focused on one objective - reaching the prison before it was too late.

Amidst the crowd she pushed ahead, her slender figure maneuvering through gaps with agility to a forest beast. The ground shook beneath her feet. She maintained her balance stepping over fallen branches and avoiding toppled stones.

The prison loomed in front of her, its stone walls quivering with each tremor. A knot tightened in Calliaras chest as she approached closer.

A crevice split open, before her path compelling her to leap over the gap. Upon landing on the other side, she saw the half elves gathered in the village square, their shouts blending with the chaos caused by tremors.

"Stay back!" someone yelled out. Their voice was drowned out by natures fury and escalating fear.

Ignoring the warnings, Calliara dashed towards the entrance of the prison, an archway partly hidden by dust and rubble. She hurried inside, escaping the shouts of the villagers.

The stone walls groaned, shook and exploded under giant paws covered in dark, dense scales. Under the weight of the breaking vaults, the prison bars were crushed and broken. The frightened prisoners rushed in all directions, trying to find a way out. Columns of dust and a hail of shards of stone, wood and iron fragments clouded their eyes. Here and there, huge eyeless muzzles with predatory mouths appeared and sank back into the darkness. Their cries were the howl of the earth itself. A disturbed swarm, furious giants, blindly crushing everything in their way.

Calliara rushed from one figure to another in search of her friend, moving deeper and deeper. Her heart was ready to burst out of her chest, her eyes darkened from the thought that the tiefling and her baby could be lying somewhere under her feet right now. When she finally found Ol`kha, she was pushing aside other prisoners running towards her, and stubbornly walking forward.

The elf grabbed her by the shoulder, pulled her with all her might and shouted at her to get out immediately.

"The kid is in that cell! I won't leave without him!" Ol`kha snapped.

Calliara turned her head in the direction her friend was pointing and actually heard a thin voice screaming in the distance.

"I'll get him out!" the elf replied.

"But-"

The elf cut her out with an animalistic growl, no human or elf could ever produce. She jumped forward, bounced from the nearest wall and turned in one swift motion. This happened too fast to even notice the moment, when a subtle elven body turned into a beastly direwolves one. But as she landed on her four and looked back at her friend - it was obvious, she made the right impression. The tiefling nodded with an open mouth and turned to run with the rest of prisoners. 

Dust filled the air, stinging Calliara’s eyes as she sprinted through the collapsing corridors. Her heart pounded with a singular mission: to save the child trapped in the farthest cell.

The labyrinthine passages twisted and turned, each quake sending shockwaves that cracked the floor beneath her paws. Her sensitive ears picked up the terrifying sounds of rock splitting. But there was no time to stop, no time to think of anything but the child she had promised to protect.

Rounding a corner, Calliara skidded to a halt before the cell door, her wolf senses honing in on the sound of panicked bleating. Confusion struck her for a split second; this was not the sound of a child. Peering into the darkness her sharp eyes found the source of the cries: a small, trembling baby goat, its eyes wide with terror.

The tiny creature stood alone, the straw-covered floor trembling beneath its hooves. Calliara’s heart twisted in her chest. This was no child, but she couldn’t leave it behind. The dungeon groaned ominously, and debris began to fall around her, stone and dust cascading in a deadly rain.

There was no time to hesitate. Calliara carefully grabbed the goat by the scruff of its neck, the little creature’s cries muffled against her fur.

The weight of the dungeon seemed to press down on them as she turned and sprinted back the way she had come, the floor buckling beneath her powerful strides. Her keen instincts guided her through the falling chaos, dodging chunks of ceiling and leaping over gaping fissures that threatened to swallow them whole.

Every second felt like an eternity, the world around her a blur of motion and sound. The goat dangled from her mouth, its bleats drowned out by the incredible roar rolling behind them. Calliara poured all her strength into the escape, muscles straining as she raced against the collapsing prison.

Ol`kha stood with other prisoners on a village square. Their backs were almost pushed against the collapsing prison walls, as the guards and Yennan waited them outside and had no plans of releasing them. The tension between them was so present, one could almost feel the taste of it in the air. Any careless movement - and there would be a fight. 

“Step back, Ol`kha, your riot ends here!” Yennan cried out and coughed, inhaling too much dust.

“It haven't even started, old man!” tieflings eyes darkened, her voice grew angrier. “I am going to bury your village under the ground today! You decide, if your people are going to outlive this!”

“You and what army?” snapped one of the prison guards, shielding Yennan with his body.

The grey coated beast with golden eyes landed squarely between the panicked guards and the prisoners trying to flee.

The sight of the massive direwolf, teeth bared and eyes blazing with defiance, sent a ripple of fear through the guards. Her growl rumbled deep in her chest, a warning as clear as any words. ‘She and this army’. The guards hesitated, their weapons held uncertainly, eyes wide with shock at the sight before them.

Calliara’s presence commanded attention, her fierce demeanor and the strange cargo in her jaws creating a surreal scene amid the chaos. She stood her ground, the goat still held securely in her mouth, her stance both protective and threatening. Her gaze flicked over the guards, daring them to come closer.

Yennan made a sound between a nervous sigh and a groan.

“The forest spirit leading a riot?” He mumbled and then pushed the guards before him. “Bow and retreat, you fools! If the nature itself wants these lost souls - we are in no position to protest!”

The guards, clearly unnerved, began to back away, whispering among themselves. Some stumbled over fallen stones in their haste to retreat, their courage faltering under the direwolf’s unyielding glare. Calliara’s growl intensified, echoing through the courtyard and reverberating against the stone walls.

The prisoners, taking advantage of the guards’ distraction, moved cautiously away from the entrance, eyes darting between the wolf and their captors. Calliara watched them go, sensing their relief and fear mingling in the charged air.

***

The wheels of the old cart creaked so loudly that all the birds flew away just hearing their approach. The driver barely held the reins, smoking his pipe. In the cart behind him, in addition to his goods, a tiefling, an elf and a kid were lying in a pile of hay.

Ol`kha stared at the sky with unblinking eyes, Calliara fell asleep, then woke up from the fact that the baby goat began to chew on her clothes.

Once again, waking up from her dreams, she tore the edge of the cape from the goat's mouth.

"Manners, Sebastian," the tiefling muttered, and the kid happily jumped on her, knocking a sharp breath out of her chest with his hooves. “You're going to tell me, why he's exiled from the five Great Kingdoms and dozens of shrines?” asked the elf softly.

“A long story for another day. You're going to tell me about the… wolf?” answered Ol`kha lazily.

“A long story… for another night in a decent inn.” the elf thought for a minute and added, “you have someone to hide you two until the rumors about what happened settle down?”

“Yes. Was hoping, to never meet him again, but there is one guy, who can hide anyone on a plain sight...”

They spent next few minutes in silence, but Ol`kha broke it.

“So they are going to talk of ‘the forest spirit that leads riots’ now. I guess, im sorry for all the inconvenience?”

“Don't be.” Calliara closed her eyes and smiled. “The spirit that leads riots. Riot. I like the sound of it.”

“And I thought, all the high elves were just pompous bores…” chuckled her friend as they finally left the forest.

*Len suilon - a formal greeting in Elven 

*I eneth nîn - (Elven) “my name is”

*Losto mae, mellon - (Elven) “sleep well, friend”

[barblaz-arts]

I think a favorite fic of yours has to be Dumb Ways to Die, for nostalgic reasons. It was one of the first wenclair fics I remember reading. Was around before the show came out but wasn't the most excited about it, or very confident in Wenclair's chemistry together.

Then the show came out, and I was literally obsessed. I still wasn't the biggest fan of fanfics (I'm just not the biggest reader in general). Somewhere around December, I started reading wenclair fics very sparsely--I'm a picky reader ofc--and I wound up reading Dumb Ways to Die for the first time. I don’t think I was "blown away" by it in the sense that I thought it was immaculate. I think I was more excited about the fic being told in a way that made sense to me--if that makes sense???

I'm a picky reader but I won't hate it if characters are out of character, I just need a set up that interests me and for a story that makes narrative sense.

I knew you were a fan fic author because I had been following you since maybe Power rangers days?? I don't think I read any of ur fics then. Idk, your wenclair fics just kind of speak to me u know? Dumb Ways to Die just takes the top spot because of it being my introduction to your writing.

Thank you! Writing that fic was a riot. Especially since I was just guessing what their dynamic would be. So relieved i wasn't too far off. "Am I better than poison?" is probably one of my favorite Enid lines I've written.

[sergeifyodorov]

what are your top 5 lore teams

the habs -> 24 cups, basically every Legendary Goalie ever (except hasek and brodeur lmao) is tied to them in some way (inCLUDING tretiak who was drafted by them but never played because of [unrelated cska drama]), the Richard brothers, Lafleur, Cournoyer, made the Cup finals 10 years straight, deeply symbolic of the general political identity of Quebec and Francophone Canada esp in regard to its relationship with English Canada (evidenced by the habs-leafs rivalry), etc

the red wings -> the first great one in Gordie, the gordie/ted relationship and the creation of the nhlpa, the dead wings and delvecchio, getting the guy you didn't really want at fourth overall but he turned out to be -- well -- Steve Yzerman (whose entire legacy basically shaped the idea of the chivalrous bold-hearted leader), sergei fedorov and the russian five, nick lidstrom and pavel datsyuk

the leafs -> conn smythe, the first team in all of professional sports to retire numbers, bill barilko disappeared that summer... he was on a fishing trip... borje salming and the beginning of europeans in the nhl, darryl sittler, harold ballard the worst man on the entire goddamn planet, mats sundin and the gretzky high-stick, the decade of darkness, mitch marner and auston matthews, william nylander, "not everyday you can live out a childhood dream," sixty years without a cup

the oilers -> the pesky edmonton oilers. messier, kurri, coffey. the legacy of the wha and the merger and the teenager they called The Great One a decade before he put on the blue and orange. decades of darkness. three first overall picks in a row. draisaitl; mcdavid. the best power-play the nhl has ever seen. nothing to show for it in a long time.

you could argue for more than a few teams here. bruins, rangers, and blackhawks all original six teams. penguins have also had two great ones. islanders had a dynasty. i say canucks though -> tiger williams and stan smyl. larionov and bure. the twins. luongo. two cup finals, lost at the last second. two riots. hughes and petterson.

[zeemczed]

Guys, GUYS.

TEXAS RED WAS INNOCENT

Okay. Okay, follow me.

Was he a killer? Yes. But he clearly wasn't a danger to the people around him. He was living in Agua Fria safely and without the locals (arguably) kicking up much of a fuss. So clearly he was killing men of a Certain Sort. I've seen analysis here that insists he had a thing for killing lawmen who targeted him, but that never hit me right for one reason - they sent the Ranger with the big iron on his hip. A single law man. No backup, no one to make sure that Red wouldn't run. Granted, the old "one riot one ranger" brag might apply, but I think it was something else.

Because if he was killing that many law dogs, even if it was justified, they would claim it wasn't.

So why one ranger?

"He might have kept on living, but-" hold it right there and reread the lyric.

If he'd gone before a judge, Texas Red would have walked. Or very well could have.

The Ranger was packing a customized gun designed for gunfights (the titular "big iron"). They didn't want him coming back. They very specifically wanted him dead in a deniable way.

Texas Red had killed someone with connections. It was the Good Old Boy System that got him.

[porterdavis]

Whatever happened to "one riot, one ranger"?