#Operation Crossbow

[chicinsilk]

Happy Birthday Sophia/Joyeux Anniversaire Sophia.

November 1, 1964 Sophia Loren attends a reception in the River Room of the Savoy Hotel in London for the presentation of the film Operation Crossbow.

1er novembre 1964, Sophia Loren assiste à une réception dans la salle River de l'Hôtel Savoy à Londres à l'occasion de la présentation du film Opération Crossbow.

©Cyril Maitland / Daily Mirror

[musicandoldmovies]

Sophia Loren and George Peppard in Operation Crossbow

[notesonfilm1]

Storm Over The Yangtze River (Li Han-hsiang, Taiwan, 1969)

We continue our discussion of the GOLDEN DECADES: CINEMATIC MASTERS OF THE GOLDEN HORSE AWARDS, with a response to Storm Over the Yantze River (Li Han-hsiang, Taiwan, 1969). It’s a historical spectacle, based on a true story, well-deploying hundreds of extras. The newly restored version looks smashing but we do wonder if you have to be Taiwanese to fully appreciate it. This story of spies,…

[joicecubes]

hey guess who’s absolutely losing it over the stan twins again (spoiler alert its me)

so i was innocently scrolling tiktok when i was introduced to this DIABOLICAL au idea: firstly, what if ford really had shot stan with his crossbow when stan first showed up at the shack? and secondly, what if ford tried to bring him back to life frankenstein-style? (full credit to tiktok user @44boora for this idea, go check their account for some gut-wrenching art) (also… full post below the cut this got long)

but like i was thinking about this, ford bringing stan back to life specifically, and how dependent the concept is on this specific time in his life. i just feel like any other time and under any other circumstance, ford would have been able to, eventually, accept stan’s death. we see it at the end of weirdmageddon, where ford is ready to accept that the stan they all know and love is gone now that his memory has been erased. he tells mabel as much, and only realizes there’s hope for him when mabel is determined enough to push back against ford’s logic. ford believes very intensely in his own perception of the world. he believes in science. theoretically, he believes death is death, and there’s nothing he can do to change that.

but then, think of ford after he’s been betrayed by bill. this ford is at his absolute lowest. he can’t trust his own perception of the world anymore. he’s seen the truth of what their relationship was and the horrors he was so close to unleashing on their universe. he is desperate to right his wrongs. he’s losing sleep, his body is abused every time he closes his eyes, and the end of the world as he knows it is iminent if he doesn’t succeed in making the portal as secure and unusable as possible without dismantling it entirely. the only person he believes he can trust after everything that’s happened is stan. so he contacts him for help, and in his time waiting for him to arrive, cannot stop thinking of the worst-case scenario: that bill could still be coming for him. so when he opens the door to stan, his high-strung, paranoid brain doesn’t see stan, and he shoots.

he shoots his own brother with a crossbow and kills him.

ford is not usually one to blatantly ignore a scientific fact. again, death is death, and there’s nothing he can do about that. and yet, in a state of such intense grief, when his entire world is already close to crumbling around him and he’s holding his dead brother in his arms, there’s nothing else he can feasibly do but deny. so he does.

he lives in denial of a lot of things. that stan’s death is final, obviously, but also his reasonings for attempting to do the impossible and revive him. ford likes to believe he operates purely on logic, so he tells himself he’s doing this because he has to. without stan, he can’t prevent bill from entering their universe. he’s still the only person ford can trust, so reviving him is another step in his ultimate goal of stopping bill and saving the world. it doesn’t matter that its never been done before, ford will do it anyway. and he believes that he can, because as much as he thinks he’s moved on from his hubris, he’s still acting off the assumption that he’s special. he’s so far ahead of everybody else, so naturally, if anybody could accomplish the impossible and bring stan back from the dead, its ford.

and so he denies that the real reason he’s trying to save stan is not a logical one. he denies that he’s running entirely on emotions. it would be foolish to try something so risky and impossible and time-consuming if he were only doing it because of his crushing guilt and decade-long yearning, so he tells himself there’s so much more to it than that. he can’t just be doing this because he loves him, right? he’s not that shallow. he’s not that desperate.

and yet, he is. because as much as ford wants to deny it, he can’t live without stan. he can’t live with the knowledge that he was responsible for stan’s death. if he didn’t succeed, his grief would surely kill him.

[questionablecuttlefish]

One of the most popular topics that people likes to bring up in shipwars “against” lightcannon is that we mischaracterize (did I write it correctly?) Lux to fit in our delusions. For example: she didn't kill Sylas and she despises killers and her ideals and morality is the most important thing to her, oh, also that she's good

So you as a Lightcannon writer and someone who is very familiar with her lore and character, could you give me your perspective about this?

Ah yes, that one.

Here's my answer in pictures:

But more seriously. 😆

I think that's a gross oversimplification of Lux's character, and it's generally an argument made by people who don't know who Lux is beyond the most superficial impression.

It's a product of a mindset that can't separate modern ideals of 'morality' - what would be moral to you and me, from our culture and our moment - from a character raised in a very, very different culture and a very different world.

A good example is the opening scenes of A Game of Thrones, we witness the horrible slaughter of a group of Night's Watch by the Others. The lone, desperate survivor escapes, and in the very next scene, we see that he's been captured by the Lord of a castle, who is about to execute him for the crime of desertion by beheading with a sword. This man makes his sons watch as he decapitates this poor, innocent bastard who, to us, has done no wrong and just survived a terrifying experience. He makes sure his seven year old, Bran, witnesses him cut a man's head off with a sword.

Meet Eddard Stark, probably the most forthright, honorable, and morally upstanding character in the series.

Look, Lux is a 'good' character. She's smart, compassionate, forthright, and principled. She almost always takes the diplomatic option first and uses violence primarily in self-defense.

On the other hand, she's a Crownguard. She is the daughter of the highest ranking noble household next to the King himself. Her Aunt is the High Marshall of the entire Demacian military. Her Uncle is(was,heh) the head of the Mageseekers, so the mage hunting secret police. Her brother is the Might of Demacia, Sword Captain of the Dauntless Vanguard.

What I'm saying here is that Lux is a military brat. She has been born and raised into the values of a highly militaristic, feudal warrior culture at the very highest level of that society. She's been trained in warrior arts - riding, swordfighting, archery, and military tactics and strategy - since she could walk and form words.

In her old lore? She was literally a traumatized, brainwashed child soldier taken from her family and trained to fight for Demacia.

In her new/current lore? She's still a trained spy who has succeeded at several covert missions within Noxus.

We've seen her fight monsters and Mageseekers in the M.S game, she didn't hesitate to shoot Sylas with a crossbow and stab him with a dagger until his mages dragged her off him in the comic, as above.

She also witnessed her brother behead a man in the For Demacia story; she was trying to intervene because she had sussed that there was something else going on, and therefore his death would have been unnecessary and unjust, not necessarily out of protest at the death penalty itself.

It's worth noting - as the Mageseeker confirms - that Lux stayed out of the mage rebellion not out of 'naive pacifism' as she's sometimes accused of, but because: 1. She couldn't forgive Sylas for his betrayal.

2. A desire to protect the noncombatant refugees in her care.

3. She's still loyal to Demacia and her family and refused to fight her own kin.

4. because she knew if she stayed neutral, she could leverage her Crownguard privilege and name with King Jarvan to negotiate protection for mages after the conflict.

Which, y'know, she did.

All of these are products of who she is a character, a Demacian, a Crownguard, and a canny political operator. None of these are blind pacifism, this is the kind of soft power "Fox" move Mel Medarda would recognize and approve of.

So no, Luxanna Crownguard isn't going to be put off by Jinx's violence.

Violence is inherently part of her world, too. Demacia is a 'medieval' feudal regime that is almost perpetually at war with its neighbours and, in some ways a harsher, more brutal place than Piltover and Zaun, particularly its notions of 'justice'.

Piltover is only about 50% likely to have public executions as entertainment/morality lesson, Demacia absolutely 100% does and we've seen two of them in canon, is what I'm saying.

I think Lux would understand that Jinx committed terrible deeds, yes, as part of a civil conflict that Lux herself would be coming at with only an outsider's understanding.

Lux knows exactly how it feels to have best intentions blow up in your face, to be backed into a corner and forced to take some pretty extreme actions to survive.

I don't think, after her actions and choices triggered the Mage Uprising and cost untold lives across Demacia, Lux would consider her own hands clean enough to judge someone like Jinx. Sure, Lux didn't mean to give Sylas her power to commit second hand mass murder, but Powder didn't mean to kill her family either.

And it's also worth noting the part of Sylas' actions that Lux doesn't forgive - especially in the Mageseeker dialogue - is specifically the personal betrayal of her trust, outing her as a mage, and ruining her life.

She understands his cause. She won't join it, because that would mean siding with someone who wants to kill her family, but again, Lux's reasons for choosing not to fight are much more complex and personal than 'she hates violence'.

She's able to compromise enough to accept Sylas' help when her city comes under siege, because while Lux is a 'good guy', she's also a pragmatist first.

I think Lux would see a lot of Sylas in Jinx. I think she would see a lot of herself, as well, particularly once she learned about Jinx's past, about Silco (basically Jinx's Sylas figure, no?) and about everything she's been through.

I don't think Lux would judge her for that.

I feel that Lux would try to be the voice of reason, the hand holding hers to ground her, maybe even the olive branch to help her try to repair some of her burned bridges (this is certainly what she tries to do in Ill-Omen's) and that could cause interesting conflict in their developing relationship.

But I think Lux would understand. Jinx may be more volatile and spiteful and personal in her use of violence, but she's shaped by experiences not far from Lux's own.

And by Season Two? Yeah, no, Season Two Jinx is well and truly on her hero arc. Post-Season Two Jinx? Especially if she's trying to put violence aside and heal?

Post season two Jinx, who's grieving losing her father, her sister, her child? That Jinx would absolutely attract Lux's compassion even more than before.

I've written so many words to answer it, but to me, it's such a non-argument to begin with. You have to not even look at Lux past "blonde nice girl" to think it.

[tinyshyteacup]

Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @dixonsbridexx @yikes-myguy @blackwidownat2814 @euqsia @lliteratii @imadisneyprincessiswear @satata @smashleywow @misspendragonsworld

----------------------------------------------------------

TW: cussing, angry early seasons Daryl, angst, explosions, mass extinction, nationwide destruction, descriptions of walkers (Zombies) , firearms, Shane is creepy (and maybe slightly ooc ?), mentions of past abuse.

Part 4

Dead Weight - Part 5

The Georgia sun beat down mercilessly as you trudged through the underbrush, your boots crunching on fallen leaves.

It had been three days since Carl was shot, three days since Hershel had reluctantly opened his farm to your group, and five days since Sophia had disappeared into the woods.

The forest stretched endlessly in every direction, a maze of trees and undergrowth that seemed designed to swallow little girls whole,

The search party had splintered into smaller groups, desperation mounting with each passing hour.

You wiped sweat from your brow, your clothes sticking to your skin in the oppressive humidity.

The CDC explosion felt like a lifetime ago.

Since then, you'd been operating on autopilot—helping pack supplies, taking watch shifts, and now searching for Carol's daughter alongside the others.

"She couldn't have gotten far," Rick insisted, checking his map again. His confidence had been wavering with each sunset that brought no sign of Sophia.

"We'll find her," Shane added, though the look he exchanged with Lori said otherwise.

You'd been paired with Glen for the day's search. The young Korean man had always been kind, offering quiet support without the prying questions others sometimes asked.

You appreciated his steady presence and the way he tried to keep spirits up despite everything.

"We should drink more water," Glen reminded you, gesturing at your nearly full bottles. "This heat is brutal."

You took a sip, watching as he studied the map Rick had given each search team.

"Should we head toward that creek?" you asked, pointing to a blue line on the wrinkled paper.

"Good idea. She might have followed the water." Glen nodded, adjusting his baseball cap.

"Daryl said kids tend to follow landmarks."

As you walked toward the creek, you couldn't help but notice Daryl moving through the trees about fifty yards to your left. He was searching alone, as usual, his crossbow ready and his eyes constantly scanning the forest floor.

Just the night before, you'd been gathering firewood near the edge of camp when voices drew your attention to the old stone chimney—all that remained of a house long gone.

"This isn't happening, Shane," Lori's voice was low but firm. "Not now, not ever again."

"You can't just flip a switch on this, Lori. What we had—"

"Was a mistake," she cut him off. "Rick is alive. My husband is alive."

"And what about before? You telling me that was nothing?"

"I'm telling you it's over." A pause. "And I'd appreciate it if you kept your distance."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

You'd quietly backed away, not wanting to eavesdrop further.

You'd noticed Shane's eyes following you around the campfire, something in his gaze that made you uneasy.

Cornstalks swayed with the wind, as you prepared for another day of searching, their rustle brushing against old farmhouse siding and the quiet murmur of uneasy voices.

The group is scattered across the property—some pacing, some sharpening tools, most wearing fear like armor.

"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Shane announced, adjusting the rifle slung over his shoulder. His eyes lingered on you a beat too long.

"We'll take east toward the creek." Shane announced nodding in your direction.

"Glen, you and Maggie check the ridge. Daryl, you said somethin' about tracks heading south?"

Daryl scowled, chewing absently on his thumbnail. "I can handle it m'self. Don't need nobody slowin' me down."

"Everyone pairs up," Rick insisted, his voice raspy with exhaustion. The man had barely slept since his son had been shot. "That's the rule."

"I don't need no damn babysitter," Daryl spat.

Shane stepped closer to you, resting his hand on the small of your back.

You instinctively shifted away from his touch, but he didn't seem to notice—or chose not to.

"C'mon. I promised to teach you how to shoot today too."

"You're holding it wrong," Shane said now, moving behind you to adjust your grip on the pistol.

His chest pressed against your back as his arms enveloped yours, guiding the weapon toward the makeshift target he'd set up—an old can perched on a fallen log.

You stiffened, trying to create space between your bodies. "Thanks."

He didn't budge. "Relax your shoulders. Don't anticipate the kickback." His hands slid from your wrists to your shoulders, massaging slightly.

"Hey Shane, stop" you said quietly, stepping to the side. "I should focus."

Something flashed in his eyes—annoyance, maybe—but he stepped back with a forced smile. "Just trying to help."

The gun fired, the can flying off the log. You couldn't help the triumphant smile that spread across your face. "I did it!"

Shane's hand immediately returned to your shoulder, squeezing. "Natural talent. Knew you had it in you."

His smile seemed genuine, though something in his eyes remained calculated. "Few more sessions and you'll be outshooting everyone except me."

You subtly shifted away from his touch again.

He stepped closer, his hand finding your waist. "You know, it's good to see you smile. After everything I wasn't sure if—"

You moved away more deliberately this time. "More practice ? "

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Sure thing." He reached for your arm. "But there's no rush. We got time out here, just the two of us."

A sharp crack of twigs interrupted him. You both turned to see Daryl emerging from the trees, crossbow held ready, his face a mask of irritation.

"You two done playin' around?" he growled. "Thought we was looking for a little girl, not having a damn date in the woods."

Shane's posture changed instantly.

Straightening.

Territorial.

"We're covering our section, same as you."

"Ain't heard walkers gettin' shot," Daryl retorted.

"Just wasting a bunchcha bullets on cans while Sophia's still out there."

"Not all of us were born with a crossbow in our hands, Daryl." you shot back, annoyed at his dismissive tone, though secretly relieved at the interruption.

Something flickered across his face—hurt, frustration—before his usual scowl returned.

"Whatever. Found some tracks by the creek that might be hers. But don't trouble yourselves. I got it."

He turned to leave, but Shane called after him. "Hey! We're all on the same team here."

Daryl stopped but didn't turn around.

"Are we?" he asked quietly before disappearing back into the underbrush.

Shane shook his head. "Don't mind him." He moved toward you again.

You stepped back. "We should head back. Check in with the others."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "We've barely covered any ground."

"I thought this was about teaching me to shoot?"

"It is, but—" He ran a hand over his head. "Look, I'm just trying to look out for you. After what you found out... I figured you could use a friend."

The mention of your home hit like a physical blow.

You swallowed hard. "I appreciate that. But right now, finding Sophia is what matters."

The farmhouse kitchen was a welcome respite from the tension outside. The sweet smell of sugar and vanilla filled the air as you worked alongside Beth and Maggie.

"Daddy always said meringue was too finicky in Georgia humidity." Beth giggled.

"It's not exactly apocalypse food," Maggie added, cracking eggs and separating the whites with practiced ease. "But with all these chickens laying, we might as well use them for something."

"Back home, this is practically a national dish," you explained, not allowing yourself to dwell on the memory of home.

"Mum used to make it for every holiday."

The silence that followed was heavy. Beth squeezed your arm. "Well, now you can teach us. Keep the tradition going."

The screen door opened, and Hershel walked in, wiping his hands on a towel.

He'd just come from checking on Carl, who was finally back up and about.

"Something smells wonderful," he observed.

"Mr. Greene, I wanted to thank you. For the eggs, and... well ... for everything, really." You smiled at him.

The older man's face softened slightly. "Call me Hershel. And you're more then welcome dear."

"Though I hope you understand this arrangement isn't permanent."

"As soon as Carl's strong enough to travel, we'll—"

"And when they find Sophia," Beth interjected firmly.

"Yes," Hershel agreed after a moment. "When you find that little girl."

Dusk was settling over the farm as everyone gathered on the porch for dinner.

"This looks amazing," Dale exclaimed, admiring your dessert.

"Dig in," you smiled, cutting slices for everyone.

Carol accepted her piece with a weak smile, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. "Sophia would've loved this. She had such a sweet tooth."

You wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a sympathetic squeeze.

"Has," Rick corrected gently. "And she'll get to try some soon. Daryl found something today."

All eyes turned to Daryl, who stood awkwardly at the edge of the group, looking uncomfortable with the attention.

"Aint much" he mumbled. "I'll be out mornin' at first light."

"You've been out there all day," Andrea remarked. "Don't you need to rest?"

Daryl scoffed. "I'll rest when we find her."

You moved through the group, handing out slices of pavlova. When you reached Daryl, he hesitated before accepting it.

"Saul this?" he asked suspiciously, poking at the dessert.

"Pretty much just sugar and fruit." You joked quietly.

He studied it a moment longer before picking it up and slurrping a piece from between his fingers. Something in his expression softened.

"S'good," he admitted quietly, sucking the remnants of the dessert off his fingers.

"Like this, girl. Arms straight, knees bent—don’t lock up. You ain’t dancing, you’re aiming.”

You nod, concentrating, biting your bottom lip. When you fire, the shot goes wide, and you flinch at the recoil. Shane chuckles, steps in closer—his large hands guiding yours.

From the edge of the nearby woods, Daryl lowered his crossbow slightly, eyes narrowing at the scene unfolding at the makeshift shooting range.

He'd been tracking a deer since before sunrise, following it across the eastern edge of the farm until the sound of voices had sent it bounding away.

Shane's body language set off warning bells in Daryl's mind.

The way the former deputy stood too close, the way his hands settled on your hips, the stiffness in your posture as you pulled away—it all read wrong.

Daryl's jaw clenched involuntarily. He knew that look in Shane's eyes—had seen it enough times in his own father's face, in Merle's face when they wanted something and weren't planning to take no for an answer.

He shifted his weight, debating whether to intervene. It wasn't his business.

He barely knew you, had barely spoken more than a handful of gruff words in your direction.

Yet something about the way Shane touched you made his skin crawl.

"Watching over someone?"

The quiet voice nearly made him jump. Carol had approached silently—a skill she'd perfected in her years with Ed.

"M'tracking a deer," Daryl muttered, not taking his eyes off you and Shane. "Lost it."

Carol followed his gaze, her expression darkening slightly as she observed the tension in your interaction with Shane. "He's been circling her since the CDC," she said quietly.

"Like a damned vulture."

Daryl grunted noncommittally, though his grip tightened on his crossbow.

"Lori shut him down hard," Carol continued. "Now he's looking for... consolation elsewhere."

"Ain't none of m'business," Daryl responded, though he didn't move away.

"No?" Carol's voice was soft but knowing. "That why you look like you're ready to put a bolt in him?"

"Man's tryin’ to impress her," Daryl scowled. "All that hands-on crap."

You fired again—another sharp crack of sound—and both Daryl and Carol watch you flinch and recoil sideways, your feet tangling in the grass. Shane caught your arm, steadying you with a chuckle.

“Easy, girl. Ain’t nobody expecting Annie Oakley.”

Your shoulders curling slightly inward, they could see you step away again as Shane reached for your arm.

"Shane doesn't handle rejection well," Carol observed. "Ed was the same way. Thought he was entitled to whatever he wanted."

Daryl's head snapped toward her. "He try something with you too?"

Carol shook her head. "No. I'm not his type. Plus..." She hesitated. "I think he knows better than to try with me. After Ed, I've gotten pretty good at spotting the warning signs."

She paused, before nodding in your direction. "She hasn't had that experience yet."

"She can handle 'erself," Daryl muttered, though he didn't sound convinced.

"Maybe." Carol's eyes were sad. "But sometimes it's nice to know someone's watching out for you."

Down at the range, Shane had moved even closer to you. His voice was too low to hear, but the tense set of your shoulders was visible even from this distance.

"She keeps telling him to back off," Daryl observed, an edge to his voice. "Dumbass doesn't listen."

"Some men don't," Carol said quietly.

Daryl finally turned to look at her directly. Something passed between them—an understanding born of similar wounds.

Carol had endured Ed's abuse for years, Daryl had grown up with his own father's violence. They both recognized the signs of someone pushing boundaries.

"You ever notice," Carol said carefully, "how she freezes up when he touches her? But when you're nearby, she seems... calmer?"

Daryl snorted. "Tch. Whatever."

"I'm just saying what I see." Carol's voice remained gentle. "When you found Sophia's doll yesterday, she was the first one to thank you."

"Don't mean nothing," he insisted.

"Maybe not." Carol shrugged. "Or maybe she feels safe. Safer than she does with him, anyway."

Before Daryl could respond, a sharp sound drew their attention back to the range.

You had knocked Shane's hand away more forcefully this time, your voice carrying clearly, "Hey Shane ... s-stop—NO."

Shane's posture changed immediately, his body language becoming more aggressive as he stepped into your space. "What's your problem? I'm just trying to—"

"Y'alright ?" Daryl called out, stepping from the treeline before he'd even realized he was moving.

His crossbow hung casually at his side, but his eyes were fixed on Shane with unmistakable warning.

Relief washed visibly over your face, while Shane's expression darkened.

"Just fine," Shane called back, his tone clipped.

"Dont look fine" Daryl countered, heading down the slope.

Carol followed a few steps behind. "Looks like she's done with her lesson."

You seized the opportunity. "We're finishing up. Actually, Carol, didnt you need help with the laundry?"

The lie was obvious, but you didn't care.

Shane forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Well, don't let me keep you then."

"We'll pick this up later." The threat was subtle but unmistakable in Shane's tone.

"Sure," you replied noncommittally. As Shane stalked away toward the farmhouse, you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"You okay?" Carol asked gently.

"Fine," you said automatically, then reconsidered. "He doesn't understand the word 'no.'"

Daryl chewed on his thumbnail. "Want me to make 'im understand?"

The words came out before he realized it.

You looked up at him, surprised by the protective edge in his voice. "N-no ... I can handle Shane."

"We could help," Carol suggested. "I could use shooting practice too. Safety in numbers."

"Walsh ain't gonna back off easy," Daryl warned, finally looking back at you. "Men like that, they think they're owed something."

"I'm not anyone's prize," you mumbled into the ground.

Something flickered in Daryl's eyes. "No," he agreed quietly. "Y'ain't."

Carol glanced between the two of you, a small smile playing at her lips despite the seriousness of the situation.

As the three of you walked back toward camp, Carol fell into step beside Daryl, her voice dropping so only he could hear.

"See? She feels safe with you."

"Stop," he muttered, but there was less conviction in his tone than before.

[vigilante-3073]

Tree-hugger

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

PART 2

Summary: Daryl managed to convince Y/N to move closer to the prison. He keeps true to his promise of visiting her.

TW: Flirting, fluff, nervous Daryl

Y/N lived in the forest just outside the fences of the prison. Daryl tried to convince her to come inside, but she refused. Y/N operated on her own schedule, moving to different areas around the perimeter every few days. Daryl tended to think of her as an outdoor cat, only coming around when she wanted attention or food.

Daryl gave her a radio to keep in touch, checking up on her when he hadn't seen her in a few days. She had managed to survive this long without any assistance and Daryl couldn't deny that he was impressed.

Daryl invited her on scavenging missions, providing her with the opportunity to help out and get some more supplies for herself at the same time. Y/N waited for him outside the gates whenever they were going to go on a run, never going inside.

She trusted Daryl implicitly and he felt the same way. It was both the strangest and longest lasting friendship that Daryl ever had.

...

Daryl and Y/N sat around the fire in silence, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers as he watched her cook a rabbit. Life in the prison had finally settled and things were starting to function as they should.

Crops had started to grow in the yard and they had running water for the first time in a long time. They were safe and life was good.

Y/N deserved that too. She deserved to have an actual bed and a stable place to call home, even for a few days.

"You can trust them, y'know?" Daryl said, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing smoke up into the air.

"Trust who?" Y/N questioned, eyes not moving from the fire as she rotated the meat in the flame.

"My group... Or Rick, at least," Daryl said, flicking the ashes from the end of his cigarette.

"I trust you. That's enough for me," Y/N stated, eyes finding his over the fire and shooting him a small smile, "Besides, groups make me nervous and I work better on my own anyway," She shrugged.

"What about me?" Daryl asked.

"If you're willing to drag that beautifully sculpted body of yours up a tree, I would be more than happy to turn this into a two man operation," Y/N said, eyes running over him appreciatively.

"I can't climb for shit," He said with a smile, flicking the ashes from the end of his cigarette.

"I could teach you," Y/N offered.

"Nah, you just want an excuse to stare at my ass all day," Daryl said, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"It is a nice ass," She smiled.

Daryl didn't push the subject of meeting the group. He knew that she would come around in due time.

...

Daryl made his way through the forest, crossbow held close to himself as he stared up into the trees. He knew that Y/N had moved into this area since the last time he saw her.

Daryl would never understand how she managed to blend in so well.

Y/N watched him walk by with a smile, lounging on a high branch that was concealed by leaves. She reached over and plucked an acorn from one of the leafy branches above her. Y/N threw the acorn, laughing as it hit the archer square in the center of his back.

"Booyah!" She yelled.

Daryl spun around, squinting up at the trees as he scanned the branches for her, "Where the hell are you?" He called.

"Over here, handsome!" Y/N yelled.

Daryl shook his head as he made his way over, staring up at her from the ground. He could just barely see her through the lush greenery.

"Why'd you go so high up?" Daryl asked.

"To watch you wander around aimlessly while I throw things at you," She smiled.

"Get your ass down here. I brought dinner," He said, holding up a string of squirrels.

Y/N untied herself and climbed down from the tree quickly. Daryl hovered at the base, ready to catch her if she slipped.

Y/N dropped down onto the ground, dusting her hands on her pants, "Is that a new shirt?" She asked, eyes running over him.

Daryl nodded, "Found it yesterday," He stated.

"Looks good on you. Plus, it shows off those big arms that I love so much," She said with a wink.

Daryl smiled slightly, cheeks flushing, "Shut up," He muttered.

"About how gorgeous you are? Never," She smirked, "There's a clearing over this way," She added.

Daryl shook his head before following her through the trees. She went to work building the fire as he prepared the squirrels.

"Rick wants to go on another run tomorrow," Daryl said.

"Are you going?" Y/N asked, blowing carefully at the base of her fire before adding more tinder.

"You got a crush on me or somethin'?" He asked.

"Of course I do. Have you seen yourself? I'd have your sexy redneck ass wifed up in a minute if marriage was still a thing" She replied casually, adding small pieces of wood to the fire.

Daryl smiled, even when he flirted back Y/N still managed to leave him speechless. He looked up as she sat back on her haunches, looking over at him.

"I'm goin' with Rick tomorrow," He said.

"Fantastic, so am I," She replied.

...

Daryl made his way out into the forest with a flashlight, it was the latest he had ever gone out and he hoped Y/N was still awake.

Daryl and Rick had gone off on a scouting mission that kept them away for a few days. Rick needed to collect medical supplies and some items for the baby.

Daryl smiled slightly when he saw firelight in the distance. He made his way towards it, turning off his flashlight as he approached.

"Howdy, stranger. I thought you forgot about me," Y/N said with a smile.

"Went out with Rick for a few days," Daryl said, sitting down on the ground beside her with his back leaned against the fallen tree trunk.

"Rabbit?" She asked, holding up the stick of cooked meat.

Daryl nodded, taking the stick from her outstretched hand and pulling some meat off the bone.

Y/N watched him eat for a moment before turning her attention back to the fire, "I missed you," She said.

"Missed you too," Daryl replied gruffly.

"You gonna stay out here tonight?" She asked.

He nodded, "I'm not climbing a tree though," Daryl said.

"You're going to sleep on the ground like a-" "Normal person? Yeah," Daryl said.

"Oh, so you think I'm abnormal?" Y/N questioned.

"Yeah," He stated.

"Don't insult me, Daryl, I'll fall in love with you," Y/N said.

He huffed a laugh, "Would that be a bad thing?" Daryl asked with a smile.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any hotter," Y/N smirked.

[cryptidvaquero]

I rewatched a playthrough of Black Ops: Cold War and like... I feel as if there was a huge missed opportunity when it came to Bell and Mason. Like you took Mason - a man who has *been brainwashed to be a sleeper agent* and put him in a game with Bell but don't even consider exploring that dynamic more? That's crazy work and that's why I want to ramble about it.

I'm making the assumption that everyone was pretty caught-up on a majority of what Bell went through in order to *become* Bell, which means that Mason is very much aware of the torture and and the MK-Ultra et cetera, et cetera. IIRC, there is a *very* brief moment where Mason expresses some sympathy for Bell (but I could be wrong), and I really think that that's a majority of his feelings on it: sympathy.

Mason can't even stop himself from trudging back into those memories when he goes to Mount Yamantau. There's a part where, if you pick up some crossbow bolts (which apparently were canonically shot by Hudson in B:O1), Mason *sees* the numbers. He can't get away from it no matter how hard he tries. Of all people, Mason knows the type of turmoil Bell suffered from when they found out that their friendships, their motivations, their whole life was a lie. And I believe he feels a real, deep-rooted sympathy for Bell. But! I don't think he feels the need for justice.

After all, Bell is a Soviet. Bell was betting on the opposite side, and what they're doing - whether they like it or not - is helping Mason's side. And I wonder if, combined with that sympathy, there is some kind of sense of vengeance. Because *finally*, someone who had been a part of a sleeper agent operation under Perseus knows what that feeling is like. They finally understand that burning frustration to trudge alongside Adler because, let's face it: what other option do they have? Like Mason had Reznov, Bell had Vietnam. Like Mason had Hudson, Bell had Adler. There could have been so many opportunities for Mason to establish this kind of relationship with Bell that's just so purely bittersweet. I feel like they had plenty of moments with Hudson very vaguely referring to Bell's status before the player discovers it, but imagine the kind of tension that could have arisen if it was between Mason and Bell instead?

There's definitely the obvious "why keep the ex-sleeper agent unsupervised on a mission the current sleeper agent" answer but I don't care. I wish there was more Mason and Bell. The mission with Woods and Bell, in my opinion was great and one of the best ones in the campaign, so WHYYYYY did they hold out on Mason and Bell???

This has been my TED Talk I hope other Black Ops fans agree with me on this

[coffee-master]

[IDEA TO USE: TRANS STANLEY PINES]

[Lee Pines]

I wish there was a fanfic about trans Stanley Pines, who realised he was trans AFTER he was kicked out of the house.

Honestly I belive that during his childhood and teenage years there would be visible sights, but Stand ignored it due to the many circumstances.

I also think that his realtionship with his father would be maybe ever worse? I belive that Filbrick would often complain that his "daughter" was making more mess than his other sons, or complain for not being "a typical girl" or "girly" or other stuff.

Anyway-

After being kicked out I think that due to the new enviroment and other people (good and bad) Stan would probably run into some queer group in one of the bars. Maybe he would try to scam them or steal.. But somehow he would end up with a conversation AND REALISATION.

Egg cracking.

Later Stan would realise that he's a guy and do something about it. (In illegal way due to the situation)

He would do some dirty job to get some shots of testosterone. And it would start working.

He made a call to one of his old pals (on crime) to get a top surgery. The operation was of course a big risk (like 70% you survive, 20% you will die of blood loose on the table and 10% you die due to the infection if the surgery went bad)

I think the transition would have a positive impact on his mental health (like:; "Yeah Testosterone won't solve my money or family problems BUT LOOK WHO CAN GO SHIRTLESS!!)

A little steps would make him smile.

(TW: Another small detail is that during his living on the streets before transition Stan would probably also experience some sexuall harrasment) [I'd have a big impact on him]

Another think is that the transition would help him with his crime record. Slowly [DEADNAME] Pines wanishes away and nobody knows where or how and nobody can susspect him anymore.

From now on He would call himself Lee Pines. (simply)

[Let's be honest. I don't think Lee change his name to Stanley.. it's just like Stanford.. But that's only my opinion]

But Lee Pines would get himself more criminal record and in the end still use new fake IDs and ect.

NOW.

Let's get to the part where Lee gets a postcard from Stanford.

NOW THIS IS WHERE THE REAL FUN BEGIN! Because he doesn't know about this whole stiation.

Stanford is waiting impatiently for his twin sister to show up in his Shack, but when he opens the door, he sees this MESSY HOMELESS GUY (suspicionsly similar to him)

"WHO ARE YOU?! DID YOU COME HERE TO STEAL MY EYES!?" - Stanford is ready to shoot.

Lee is clearly confused. He expected that his twin wouldn be shocked to a man at his doorsteps. But he didn't expect it would go like this-

"Geez, you sure now how to-" Before he could even finish his sentence Ford rapidly moved his crossbow even closer to his face.

"Who are you!?" Stanford yelled insantly.

"Woah Woah- Chill out pointexter-" The messy twin slowly raised his hands up.

"Talk. Now." Ford threatened.

"I'm your brother you dumbass-!" Lee yelled flustration and anger, not paying attention to his words at all.

Instead of being angry Ford only laughed manically at the answer. Shermie was far away with his own family. Moreover adding the fact that he didn't keep in touch with him in a long time. The answer was just hilarious!

"Wrong answer, try again." Ford smirked thinking this must be some trick of imagination or another shape-shifting creature from this forest.

Meanwhile Lee was terrified seeing his brother in this state of mind. Just what exacly happened to him?

But before he could even question this whole Madness, he heard counting.

"Five.." It was Ford. "Four.." And he was counting down.

He was counting down-

Who could have even guessed that reunion with his brother could cost him his head? Nevertheless Lee prefered to stay in one piece.

So he spoke.

All that he know.

"In the middle school I used to take your box class, since you hated it so much and once Pa' found out, he was pretty pissed at both of us!" Immiediately he saw how Ford was taken aback.

It was a good sigh.

So he kept going.

"During summer we'd go on the beach and pretend to be treasure hunters! One time we wanted to make a fireplace next to the boat? I used my dresses as a firelighter and later I was 'forced' to wear your nerdy clothes as a punishment! We had a pet! Shanklin the Stab Possum! World's greatest pet!" He talked and talked until there was no oxygen for him to breath.

But he did it.

Ford blinked dumbfoundly instantly taking a step back from him. Lee didn't hesitate and used this opportunity once again.

"You told me to come here! You send me a post card!" He slowly reached to his pocked, taking out the pice of paper and rapidly waved it in his face.

"What.." Confused twin lowered his weapon down at the sight of the evidence.

"A lot has changed during those ten years brainiac." Finally the other twin said a little coldly, after seeing Ford putting weapoon away. "I go by Lee now." He added simply.

For a moment Stanford didn't say a thing, as if he've just got a brain damage.

"You know what? This isn't the weirdest thing I've seen. Get inside!" Stanford didn't have the time to question, especially when outside, everyone could see them.

Instead he dragged "Lee" into his house.

You can guess what happened next.

And, If someone would be interested in writing a fic about this or something similar then go ahead! DO IT! This is free to use!!!

Please!

Just tag me, becuase I'd like to read it too...👉👈

[MasterPost]

[miquella-everywhere]

Plz I like fr love the idea of the potential of a Miquella and Rykard sibling relationship it drives me insane....

The two of them have so much in common its crazy: Both being geniuses in their own right when it comes to magic(Rykard with sorceries and Miquella with incantations), both having immense skill with mechanical engineering(Rykard with the Abductor Virgins and Miquella with Malenias prosthetics and the Pulley Bow/Crossbow) Both being blonde(I am a blonde Rykard truther, sue me), and BOTH having their own disdain for the Golden Order as well as Radagon based daddy-issues.

But at the same time these two are such polar opposites in terms of ideology that you know for a fact that they absolutely despised one another.

Like with Rykard you have Radagon leaving and ruining his mother and the Carian families political power, to go and make some new siblings with the Queen of the Order he hates. And Miquella having nothing but abject horror towards Rykards cruelty and how he treats the Misbegotten and the Albinaurics of who he wishes to grant salvation since they were already treated so terribly by the society of the Lands Between.

AND YET THERES STILL SOMETHING OF A SIBLING RELATIONSHIP THERE!!!!!

Rykard allowed Miquella to set up shop on Mt. Gelmir with the Craftmans Shack and Miquella was there using it as his base of operations to create weapons and possibly Malenias prosthetics. And not only that.... The Tonic of Forgetfulness.

THE GODDAMN TONIC OF FORGETFULNESS.

I will forever go insane over this thing because it's golden floral design and the ability to "relieve" someone of their unwanted and hurtful memories fits Miquellas charm to a goddamn T(Not to mention the fact that in cut content there is evidence of the clergy of St.Trina/Miquella making alcohol/potions with various effects) It's crazy.

And, this is heading into purely HC territory: but I would like to imagine that Miquella and Rykard had a horribly strained and rocky relationship at best. But when the Shattering was close at hand there was a moment where they both briefly saw eye-to-eye and Rykard requested the Tonic from Miquella so that he could give Tanith an out if she couldn't stomach what he was going to do. And Miquella couldn't help but oblige, because he knows damn well about wanting to relieve someone of their suffering.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

"Its cold you should take my jacket" with krobus mayhaps? I just think its a cute mental image BVNJ

Maybe theyre goin outside durin winter, and sure shadow people probably arent as effected by the cold but maybe it could still be a sweet gesture (the reader is going to freeze to death mild mistakes were made unless they're just the kinda person to go out in the winter shorts/joke)

-salt anon

YEAH Krobus time <3

Notes: Farmer and Krobus are established as roommates.

................

"The crocus are blooming nicely this winter...oh! Hello, little worms!"

Standing just a few feet away, you kept an eye out for any villager who might be walking around at this late hour, acting like a bodyguard for Krobus.

The last thing you wanted was for someone to freak out at his mere existence on the surface.

Ever since befriending the lonely shadow monster from the sewers, your perspective on his people (as well as most other monsters) changed drastically, opening up your eyes to the truth: that not all of them were violent brutes and assassins armed with crossbows and dark magic.

He was the first peaceful one you've come across, and he became the reason you try to avoid fighting any shadow people in the mines. Even if they became aggressive, you knew they were only acting defensively, never turning hostile unless you approached them first.

Of course, if you saw a human come charging at you with a sword or hammer...you'd be scared for your life, too. And if you had the means to protect yourself, you'd use them.

Krobus was once a fighter himself, until he decided to abandon those ways after the elemental wars, finding displeasure with his life beneath the surface. No longer could he find sanctuary in a place so terribly hot and miserable, fearing that an adventurer or Dwarf assassins will come slay what remained of his people. Thus, he laid down arms and took up becoming a humble merchant, living quietly and waiting patiently.

What he was exactly waiting for...he didn't know at the time.

But after you somehow found his little shop, checked on him after a fight with one such Dwarf, and presented him with the void ghost pendant....he finally realized what he wanted all along.

Companionship.

Something that he didn't expect to find in a human, of all creatures.

Yet on that fateful day, things changed for him yet again.

They were bigger, better, and the type of change that he needed for so long.

He never thought you'd like him as a housemate. After all, his existence alone was frightening to humans. He thought his wares would creep you out, or his strange habit of eating all the houseflies. He thought he'd be a burden on days where he wanted to help around your farm, but the humidity wasn't quite right and the air was a tad bit too dry for his skin. And he was convinced that touching your chickens and slimes would infect them with void energy and "ruin" Yoba's image of them.

There was even a time when he stood in front of your grandpa's shrine the night he moved in, asking aloud if he'd approve of this "living arrangement".

A year later, you two were still happily together, on the eve of the Winter Star festival, searching for the perfect crocus to put into his room's garden pot.

How he managed to order that online on your farm computer was beyond you..although he did mention Dwarf lending him a manual on how to operate such a device.

It seems they were finally willing to put the past behind them, albeit at no point did they ever mention fully forgiving each other, which was understandable.

"May I?" Bringing out the hoe, you looked to Krobus, who nodded and quietly shuffled away from the worms. You scraped the ground with your tool, unearthing-

"Another creepy doll, great.." You picked up the dirty, snow-covered toy. Its blue shirt and brown pants had only a few tiny tears in them, and the beady black eyes were seemingly staring into your soul. "Why do the people in this town leave these everywhere? Is it some ritual for them to be buried around the valley and found years later?"

"Hmm..I couldn't tell you." The shadow monster chuckled a little. "But they do bear resemblance to the dolls Dwarves have made for their children. Maybe they'd appreciate it as a gift......or it may be a grim reminder of what they've lost in the war..." His curl drooped a little.

"I gave them a green doll once, and they liked it. So it could be a good gift." You placed the doll in your bag, before turning back to Krobus. "Speaking of which...we could try attending the feast together. You could come in your usual disguise and-"

"I can't."

"......"

"Sorry, that sounded harsher than I intended." He meekly spoke, looking down at the snowy ground. "But going to the movies with you was nerve-wracking enough. Some of your friends were there..watching me, wondering who I was. To attend a festival with all of their eyes on us...I...I'm just afraid. If the guild master spotted me.....oh, Yoba."

Unwilling to finish, Krobus shuddered and hugged his body self-consciously. But at that same moment, the wind picked up, making him shiver a little bit more.

It made you frown, wishing he didn't look so distressed...and cold.

Poor thing.

Then an idea sprung on you, and you realized you could solve one of those problems right now.

He heard rustling and looked up, confused as to why you were shrugging off your jacket. "Huh? Why are you shedding....?"

"It's cold, you should take my jacket." Smiling, you wrapped it around his shoulders, seeing that it didn't totally envelop his body like his trenchcoat disguise did.

Almost right away Krobus picked up familiar scents on it: horseradish and pumpkin. Two of his favorite things.

Despite the smells being pleasant, he was absolutely bewildered by your kind gesture--and it turned into grave concern as he noticed the goosebumps already forming on your arms and legs. "[Y/n], my people are used to temperatures of either extreme. But yours aren't..are you sure you don't need-?"

"Krobus, I think we can both agree that I'm not like most of "my people."" You laughed gently, shaking your head. "I've worked outside on the hottest summer days and the coldest winter nights. I've been inside the ice castle of the mines and at the top of the volcano dungeon. This cold doesn't bother me anymore. I'm wearing shorts for Yoba's sake. I'll survive without my jacket for a few minutes as long as it helps you feel better. Is it...helping you?"

"...as a matter of fact, this does help. Thank you, my friend." He smiled back, feeling more at ease knowing you weren't gonna freeze to death at his expense. "I'll admit that the warm sewers have made me less accustomed to the chill of winter, but when it comes around..I try to sneak outside as often as I can."

"Maybe one day, you won't have to sneak around anymore, and everyone here can see you've been a great roommate of mine." Patting his head with your gloved hand, you chuckled as he perked up. "And...hopefully our blacksmith can stop asking me to beat up your skeleton friends. I'm starting to think he's running into them on purpose."

"It sickens me how many times I've seen that advertisement." He scowled. "The Skeletons don't make the mines dangerous...it's their home! They just want to be left in peace, with the riches they've guarded in life and now guard in death." Then he relaxed his shoulders, looking to you. "Thank you for not accepting anymore of his contracts."

"Of course, but..what about the wizard's contracts? I had to put some Ghosts to rest because he claims they're "upsetting the balance of the elements". I know they must be your friends, too."

"That's different..if an overabundance of creatures threaten to upset the elements, then they should be taken care of." Krobus nodded, still looking rather grim. "It's unpleasant, but necessary to ensure one species doesn't dominate the rest. Killing monsters so it's "safer" to strip the mines for gold and gems...is not necessary."

"I see." You nodded, looking around and spotting a nearby holly on the ground. Picking it up, you smiled and showed it to him, hoping to lighten the mood. "Another human tradition during this season involves holly. We hang it above our doorsteps, and whoever is under it should kiss. But...I don't think people in this town are familiar with it."

"Ah, how fascinating..." He looked at the plant in your hands, watching you stow it away into your backpack. "I never knew so much about humans until you came along, [y/n]."

"There's a lot to us. We're a..very complex species." You shrugged, before checking the time and realizing it was almost midnight. "Shoot. We should head back soon. I still gotta find something for my secret gift-giver."

"Maybe I can help you." He offered. "It's the least I could do, since I sadly cannot attend."

"I would enjoy it more if you could come, but I'll bring you back some pumpkin pie. And maybe we could...do our own little secret gift-giving?"

"That would be wonderful." Krobus beamed, feeling you wrap your hand around his clawed one, huddling close as you both headed back to the farmhouse..

Your home, which was now his home as well.

He thanked Yoba everyday that he got to share it with you.

[least-evil-resident]

medieval resident evil au where Umbrella is a cabal of dark mages trying to unlock the secrets to lichdom and go mad learning secrets from the undead eldritch horror outside of space and time

Chris and Jill are Knights in service of the Order of Stars, Leon is a beginning town guard, Ada is still a spy, honestly not much is different

If you give them ttrpg character sheets then it's even more fun

Would guns be wands, badass Crossbows, or straight up magic, or different based on the game? They could also just be guns but that wouldn't be nearly as interesting.

Consider pistol=dagger, rifle=longsword, shotgun=axe? Grenades could be hand bombs or magic.

Or pistol=hand crossbow, rifle=light crossbow, shotgun is either special bolt or a spell

Beneath the cobblestone streets of raccoon city, where gaslamps and auto-carriages ramble, is the lair of an evil sect of mages developing spells in secret to transform humans into beasts

Could be very bloodborne-esque. Lots of fire and brimstone. Maybe STARS are more like paladins, and the bsaa is an order of Templar type organization.

If we go dnd 5e rules, Chris is a fighter for sure, Jill is like a rogue I guess? Leon could go either. It could be fun to make Claire like a sorcerer since she gets the grenade launcher

In later games I think Chris definitely fits either paladin or barbarian, where Leon goes for more rogue/maybe ranger vibes. Jill seems more rogue+fighter but magic rogue is cool, maybe artificer. Claire would be sorcerer multiclass I think. Keep any mages low powered that way.

Sherry in 6 is maybe warlock or aasimar instead of Cleric? Blood hunter would be cool. Rebecca starts as a Cleric in 0 for sure. For a low magic setting where research and Rituals are matched by quick, small combat spells, how high of a DC do you think enemies would go?

Of course, in a classless system like gurps or all flesh, this would be a lot less restrictive. What would be the best system for resident evil normally? What would be the best one for its fantasy au?

Wesker very much fits the low-fantasy vampire theme. He has a reflection and can step in he sunlight but wow it hurts his eyes. Chris rolls a 20 to punch a boulder to death.

Leon has the lucky feat or 20 in dex or something to pull off his stunts. Chris also gets Charisma as a leader for the bsaa, so paladin is up his alley. Leon's secret service requires more rogue skills, but his time in operation javier trains his skills as a Ranger under Krauser maybe?

Jill and Claire both get grenade launchers, but Jill is more Rogue with her lockpicking so it makes sense for them to switch level ups later on as claire learns more professional skills for rogue training.

Barry definitely hits fighter/barbarian with his heavy weapons. Jake is maybe more monk/barbarian but with something like a dhampir ancestry feature? Sheva is maybe rogue/fighter or paladin fighter since thats when chris starts taking paladin levels. Billy has to be rogue/fighter I think, or maybe fighter/rogue, if he even gets a second class. It would almost make sense for him to be pure rogue and rebecca be cure cleric, since she retires to become a researcher and hes never heard from again. Helena is I guess just plain rogue, hinting at her role in 6, while Leon has his ranger levels. Piers is more rogue/Ranger (or fighter archer). A lot of the one off teammates just don't get super interesting classes as a consequence of their limited appearance. Carlos... Fighter? Just fighter is fine.

Now, the problem here is that each game starts off with little to no equipment for various reasons. In the case of our spell casters like claire and jill, we can't just de-level them between adventures in the resident evil campaign. But we could give them more limited access to spell components to match the resource management of survival horror.

This is more complicated outside of dnd 5e, where a game like All Flesh Must Be Eaten has very different spellcasting rules, so you'd need to stray from a low-magic to a straight low-fantasy setting. Alchemist tools and one use spell scrolls replace your grenades and spell casting maybe? That's the issue you'd run into with treating the setting as one campaign instead of each game as an individual campaign though.

The easiest one to do is RE8. It's literally the same. Ethan starts 7 as a human Commoner, takes levels in artificer as the game goes on, since that one introduced crafting, and comes back very subtly as a human variant with a few new levels in fighter from chris' tutoring. Hey that means we can give Hiesenburg an artificer friend! Class buddies ♡ hiesenburg is probably artificer/sorcerer, giving him charisma and intelligence. Dimetrescu is maybe barbarian if she even gets class levels.

I don't think we can justifiably say Rose is a variant human, I think she gets her own custom ancestry features for this. Sorcerer also feels better than Druid for her, but a couple levels in - you guessed it, rogue! Cover her gun and Stealth skills. You get a lot or rogues and fighters in low powered/low fantasy settings, who knew lol

[ducksbyday]

Hello tumblr people

*Ahem*

Alex Kralie - bard-warlock multiclass. He started as a bard, and then was forced to make a deal with the Operator to keep his life. But, he doesn't recall ever making the pact.

College of creation, Pact of The Great Old One. Main weapon: hand crossbow.

Tim Wright - Paladin, with a huge fear magic

Oath of redemption. Main weapon: greatsword.

Jay merrick - a rogue, but he's very bad at it. Wants to multiclass, but he doesn't have enough XP to do so.

Scout subclass. Main weapon: a single, unenchanted household dagger.

Wants to multiclass into a ranger, ignoring the many times he's been told that it's a terrible idea.

Brian Thomas - Paladin of Mask (God of shadows & thievery.)

Oath of the Watchers (protecting the world from extraplanar creatures). Main weapon: poisons and improvised weapons.

Jessica Locke - she doesn't remember.

(She joined the table later in the story, and recieved an empty character sheet from the DM that she needs to fill in through exploration).

This post was an excuse for one man and one man alone.

Craig Digsby - pretends to be a cleric of Silvanus, is a actually a commoner who got adopted into a party and is now the favourite NPC. The DM hates him and wants him gone. The party does everything to keep him alive.

Entry #80.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

The Huntress

Helena Bertinelli was the daughter of an organized crime overboss named Franco Bertinelli. As a child, she saw her parents murdered by Steven Mandragora, a lieutenant who killed his boss so to take over the Bertinelli empire.  Helena only managed to escape by hiding in a closet; yet she witnessed the whole ordeal and it scarred her for life.  

Sublimating her desire for revenge into crimefighting, Helena went on to become the Huntress.  She trained rigorously and became a world class gymnast and martial artist, capable of disarming and defeating multiple armed opponents.  Her weapons of choice were a self-reloading mini-crossbow and retractable bow-staff.

The Huntress was recruited into the Justice League when the team expanded its roster following the Thanagarian invasion.  Through the League’s resources, Huntress was finally able to track down Steven Mandragora who had recently resurfaced and was turning state’s witness as part of a plea deal.  

With the aid of The Question, The Huntress was able to take Mandragora down.  She had planning on killing him yet ultimately chose not when she saw that Mandragora was with his young son (a child roughly the same age Helena was when she saw her parents murdered).  Although she did not go through with her deadly act, Huntress' recklessness nonetheless resulted in her being expelled from the Justice League.

Undaunted, she continued to fight crime on her own, frequently teaming up with The Question (whom Helena had become romantically involved with).  When The Question was abducted by Project Cadmus, The Huntress alerted Superman and together they broke the Question free from his incarceration.  The Huntress was invited to rejoin the team but declined the offer.   

Some time later, The Huntress investigated strange behaviors on the part of Black Canary.  She discovered that Canary and other female member of the League were being mind controlled and forced to fight in Roulette’s Meta-Brawl.  Huntress and Black Canary worked together to free the others and Roulette’s operation was brought down.  

Actress Amy Acker voiced The Huntress with the headstrong heroine first appearing in the debut episode of the first season of Justice League Unlimited, ‘Initiation.’   

[citizenscreen]

Carlo Ponti and Sophia Loren on set of OPERATION CROSSBOW (1965)

[lovesickshell]

Anons! Have we forgotten a CRITICAL phase of Operation: Heartbreak? Oh right, I never talked about Operation Heartbreak. Alright, the first phase is assessing how this disease functions, and then containing it. Then, we contain the infected. And the critical phase I mentioned is working on a darned cure! So put down yer crossbows and put on your goggles, it's time for science! - Scientist Anon P.S - If you see this Shelly, completely disregard the former information, it's totally not important and you should just forget you saw it.