#THEM HOLDING EACH OTHER IN FEAR OF THE ZOMBIE SHARK

[tanjir0se]

This weeks episode of Zom 100 really said Akencho shippers come get your fucking food huh

[myth-lord]

Why don’t you just DIE! (already)

Sometimes when you kill an enemy it isn’t exactly the end of the fight, sometimes it is just the beginning!

These are all the monsters from my list/project that can metamorphic into a new form after you seem to have beaten them.

KHALKOTAUROI

First Form:

Much like a mechanical/golem-like bull made from metal, strange red fiery spiritual fire leaks from its cracks, eyes and nostrils.

Reborn Form:

After you destroy the mechanical body an full HP Aatxe spawns, this red bull spirit was trapped inside the metal shell and is more angry than before.

ALP-LUACHRA

First Form:

Like a very pulsing big human, almost bursting and very disgusting, intelligence isn’t in its eyes, it just wants to eat, instead of a tongue however an Olm/Amphibian-like creature bursts from its mouth, seemingly controlling the human host.

Reborn Form:

After killing the human host, the small Alp-Luachra bursts from the corpse and is forced to fight for itself, it tries to enter the bodies of your playable characters, so you better kill it fast.

MANANANGGAL

First Form:

Much like a female version of the Aswang, which are demon-possessed humans in my project, much like the creatures from the movie Evil Dead.

Reborn Form:

After you do enough damage to the Manananggal it will turn into a different form, it sprouts bat-like wings from its back and its torso rips itself free from the lower body, its intestines dangle beneath it and it can use these organs to attack enemies with.

Third Form:

Doing even more damage to this flying form will morph it into the final form, which is just a head with bat-like wings instead of ears, much like a more crazy and scary looking Chon-Chon (my other flying head which is unrelated to the Manananggal), in this final head-form the Manananggal is extremely desperate and it attacks with tentacles which dangle from its neck.

AWD GOGGIE

First Form:

Like a horrifying giant green caterpillar.

Reborn Form:

After you seemingly kill it, it will turn into a cocoon, and while you may think this will turn into a butterfly monster you are wrong, the Awd Goggie is loyal to its giant Caterpillar form and will become an bigger, more colorful red spiky caterpillar, it gains very different attacks and abilities in this new form. You can destroy the cocoon before it hatches, so the second form can be stopped, if not, it is a pretty tough enemy to fight!  

EINHERJAR

First Form:

Much like a bigger Berserker (wild humans bred for combat and war) with stronger armor and instead of two small axes like their Berserker brothers use, the Einherjar uses a giant axe.

Reborn Form:

Even after the death the Einherjar won’t stop fighting, it turns into a Draugr first, which is a zombie-fied version of the Einherjar, it behaves much like the Draugr-enemy, but it can’t re-spawn as a Draugr after being killed, as it has a third form as well.

Third Form:

Killing the zombie form of the Einherjar also doesn’t stop it from fighting, now it will turn into a powerful spirit and picks up his axe again to fight once more, instead of striking flesh and bones the Spiritual Einherjar targets and destroys the soul/spirit of its victims.

BINAYE AHANI

First Form:

These twin aberrations are also found as a duo, you can target each of the two twins separately.

Reborn Form:

The best way to deal with these monsters is trying to kill them both at the same time, as when you kill one of the twins first the second will go berserk and transforms into an even more abominable and powerful form, raging with anger and emotions after losing its other half, it gains some new lightning-based abilities in this new form.

BUBAK / TATTY BOGLE

First Form:

The first half of this monsters fight is mostly magical as it seems to be just a scarecrow hanging from the famous wooden crosses they are mostly found on in real life, in this form it just summons fear-magical attacks, illusions of your worst fears and supports the other enemies on the battlefield with its evil magical buffs.

Reborn Form:

After doing enough damage to a Bubak it will turn into a physical attacking enemy, it will jump from the wooden cross and now replaces the magical attacks for physical attacks, it’s attacks can still cause the fear-effects on your playable characters.

DJIEIEN / DEATH WEAVER

First Form:

While still alive, these macabre Lich-like spiders look pretty much like giant monstrous spiders, while they have undead features, they aren’t really undead, YET.

Reborn Form:

After being killed the Djieien’s own necromantic poison automatically reanimates its corpse into an undead, much like a lich, but instead of a human it is a giant spider. While alive the Djieien are already terrible horrors with abilities to create undead minions with their necromantic poison, but in their undead forms the creatures becomes even more powerful and harder to defeat, it can create mummy-like minions with its magical webs and only critical hits can fully destroy them.

FAFNIR / GREED DRAGON

First Form

: Vile but beautiful, that is the best way to describe these golden dragons of extreme greed. A Fafnir looks like wingless golden dragon surrounded by its own treasure and covered in precious jewels and legendary items of value.

Reborn Form:

Even after the death these dragons can’t part with their own treasures, their avarice-cursed spirits will possess their treasures and animate them into a living treasure heap. While not as powerful as the dragon itself, this form gives the Fafnir a second chance to defeat their foes and still being in control of their treasure.

GOBLIN / ELOKO

First Form:

At the start of the battle these green, envious, small humanoids start in a trio, standing on each other’s shoulders, the highest Goblin on top uses a ranged weapon to attack.

Reborn Form:

After some damage is done, one of the three goblins dies and they are now a duo, this changes their entire tactics and they use a new weapon together, they use a very long saw (used to saw through trees) together, they run through enemies both holding the saw on one side.

Third Form:

After receiving more damage the second Goblin also breaths out his last breath and joins the dead, leaving a single Goblin behind to fend for its pathetic existence, in this form the Goblin mostly tries to escape, leaving the players characters without the deserved exp, so you have to kill the Goblin before it escapes.

SPRIGGAN

First Form:

Spriggans are Goblins infected with fey-energy, this mostly happens to goblins that live in the fey forests or which have friendships with fey. They have blue skin instead of a green skin, but they are still pathetic like their goblin cousins, however when they become scared or angry they turn into their reborn form.

Reborn Form:

When angry or scared (in other words when their HP is almost depleted) these blue fey goblins increase in size and strength and become a giant version of their former self, pulsing with fey magic. Why the Spriggans gained this ability is unknown, though wizards think it has something to do with the goblins/and/spriggans envy for the size of bigger creatures, fey magic helped them in achieving this goal, though the progress of turning so large isn’t without pain and stress for the otherwise pathetic creatures. After their anger or stress has gone away the Spriggan will shrink in size again.

HEIKEGANI

First Form:

I’m still experimenting with this creature, but I think I have a start now: The first form of the Heikegani in my project is of a human-corpse which head is replaced with the body of these demonic crabs, the crabs replaced the victims head and ride the corpse like a rider would ride a horse. The reason the Heikegani are so obsessed with “wearing” human bodies is because the fact that humanoid hands can hold weapons, and Heikegani are addicted to fighting and weapons, mostly swords and katanas.

Reborn Form:

After you reduce all the Heikegani’s HP its mounted body will perish and the small crab-creature will have to fend for its own, it has some nasty painful attacks even in this form though, so it isn’t defenseless to say the least.

KERIT / CHEMOSIT

First Form:

While Kerits appear to be just Black Bears, the real creature is actually an alien parasite made up from only pink and purple tentacles, they thrive inside the bodies of bigger predators, in general most are found in bears, but big cats or wolves are also possible, some were even found in predatory fishes like sharks. Anyway, in my projects game-sprite the Kerit is always a Black Bear, just to make things less complicated. While they appear to be just black bears, three tentacles sprout from their maws, hungry for the brains of other creatures, as Kerit (the parasite) needs brains to stay intelligent and alive.

Reborn Form:

After enough damage is done to their bear-host the pink/purple tentacles burst from their fleshy-shell, the creature now appears like a messy undead bear with a LOT of tentacles coming out of its torn-off lower-maw and from its belly, the largest tentacles replaced the bears sluggish locomotion. In this new form the Kerit gains more psychic attacks, and it can hit multiple enemies at the same time.

LOU CARCOLH

First Form:

This giant horrifying snail still has its shell on its back during its first stage.

Reborn Form:

After doing enough damage, the shell will break and the entire slimy snail creature is visible, while it loses a lot of defense in this shell-less form, it gains speed, and its slime-like abilities become more powerful in this stage as well.

MOROI / VAMPIRE

First Form

: Much like a vampire from twilight (just kiddn), more like a vampire from Interview with the Vampire, a beautiful man/woman (my project has both these) holding some (blood) wine in a royal-looking glass, it is dressed in fine clothes and both the male and female Moroi look like noble and rich humans.

Reborn Form:

Doing enough damage to these undead however, will release their real forms, which are far less noble and pretty, more monstrous and hungry for the blood that was denied from them, you see, the Moroi needs blood on its skin regularly to stay this pretty and civilized, without blood it turns into the monstrous, bestial undead it was intended to be.

STRIGOI / NOSFERATU

First Form:

The parents of the Moroi, these look more like the Nosferatu (cool and actual-scary vampires for newbies) and they embrace their monstrous nature, they have the power to control the blood of themselves and others, this gives them their ability to control animals, mind-control and such as well.

Reborn Form:

While already monstrous and ugly in their first form, their true form is even more bestial, they sprout giant fleshy bat wings from their backs and their fangs grow even more out of proportion, their power over blood becomes also stronger in this form, as anger turns the Strigoi more powerful.

OTSO

First Form:

In this form they are just bears with a row of green hairs running along their backs, just a cool looking bear, while they don’t have any magical abilities in this form, nature seems to protect them and after every physical bear-attack the Otso makes, nature makes a move for it as well, this can be healing the Otso randomly, giving it more strength, or summoning plant-based creatures to aid it, the Otso has the intellect of a real bear, so it doesn’t even realizes it is being helped by higher spirits.

Reborn Form:

After you kill this beautiful bear creature however, nature will embrace the bear and merges its spirit and corpse with the plant matter around it, turning the Otso into a bear made from wood, plants and other natural material, now the bear doesn’t need nature anymore to fend for itself, as it became a force of nature, natures protector, natures soul warrior, it gains intellect of its own and many magical abilities involving plants and nature, while its first form is a BEAST, its new form is a PLANT.

POLONG / CARNAGE

First Form:

What seems to be just a bloody zombie is actually a horrible blood-parasite in a corpse shell. In this form the Polong is actually very weak, and its true form is far more dangerous.  

Reborn Form:

After you destroy its corpse-home, the Polong bursts out as an water elemental-like creature made from blood, the blood of murderers, thieves and other criminals to be exact. A creation of the vile Strigoi, these blood parasites gather more blood to grow larger and split into multiple Polongs after they absorbed too much of it. In this form its far more dangerous, it can harden its own bloody mass into red obsidian-like spikes to do some serious damage to its victims and enemies. The worst thing is that after another enemy or playable character dies the Polong can enter the corpse again and regenerate all its lost hitpoints, be sure to first kill the Polong and then any other creature on the battlefield.

POLTERGEIST

First Form:

These psychic spirits (also called Psychic Elementals) can enter and animate almost any tiny, small and medium object they encounter, I’m not so sure what object the Poltergeist in my project is found in, but it is probably some furniture like a chair or maybe cutlery.

Reborn Form:

After you destroy their inanimate shells the psychic spirit of a child burst out, it is a very vague humanoid spirit though, more like an insane mind of a child coming to life, it loses any physical attack it had in its object form, but gains powerful psychic abilities in return, if you keep it alive for multiple battle-rounds, it sometimes finds another object and becomes a physical attacker again.

DYBBUK

First Form:

While the Poltergeist is the psychic energy and soul of a paranormal child, the Dybbuk is the psychic energy of a demon, unlike the Poltergeist which can only possess inanimate objects, the more powerful Dybbuk can possess almost any living creature weaker than itself, it is hidden in random other enemies, and gives these monsters/creatures not only more HP but also powerful psychic abilities.

Reborn Form:

After you kill this other monsters the real Dybbuk bursts free, now losing any psychical attack it had and focusing entirely on its extremely powerful psychic abilities, it can also posses other monsters now, and if not protected by spells, your own heroes/characters can also be possessed if they are unlucky.  The Dybbuk’s real form is even more insane and disturbing than the Poltergeists form, much like a demonic mind gone wild.  

POLUDNICA / LADY MIDDAY

First Form:

In their first form these Nymphs of Light, sunrays and heat are still pretty, hiding their burned faces underneath their golden waving hair, almost appearing like Hesperids, the gentle nymphs of the sun or even muses.

Reborn Form:

After these ladies become angry and almost perish however, their real nature becomes apparent, their hair turns into solar-like fire, and now their burned faces become visible. Their already deadly scythes become even more deadly and become double-sided and they glow like the sun, an aura of heat becomes visible and everything around them catches flames, you really shouldn’t anger these ladies!  

RAIJU

First Form:

Being playful shapeshifters, the Raiju is mostly encountered as a tanuki/badger/small predator in the wilds, in their true form they aren’t as cuddly though.  

Reborn Form:

After being attacked a lot the Raiju sheds its fake form and turns into the lightning elemental it was born to be, just a wild mess of lightning and electricity without any form of its own. This Raiju isn’t as playful anymore as it is now angry that you hurt it, all it wanted to do is play with you, it didn’t know nor cared for its lightning hurting its playmates in the progress… These lightning elementals are very hard to hit and magic or magic enchanted weapons are needed to dispatch them once and for all, earth magic does great against them.

RAT KING

First Form:

Rat Kings are bizarre creatures, they appear to be just larger-than-usual rats with bright red eyes that collect swarms of non-intelligent rats around them to become a living swarm of rats (not bound by the tails though, like in the real folklore, I left that bit out of my version). All the rats in the swarm are controlled by the Rat King and they are more than willing to fight and die for their “King”.

Reborn Form:

After defeat is in range, the desperate little creature rapidly starts to devour all the death rats that made up its swarm, increasing the Rat Kings own size until it rivals the size of a bear, in this form I like to compare it to the Ugjuknarpak, a giant rat from Inuit myths. The rats that were still alive swarm all over the now giant Rat King like a living coat, functioning as a living armor of suicidal rodents.

RAUDKEMBINGUR / TROLUAL

First Form:

These red-painted monstrous whales make Moby Dick seem like a wussy, their biggest hobby is destroying ships which they use their entire mass upon, one of the biggest enemies in my project, the Raudkembingur in Mythica is like all the Evil Whales (they are all found in ABookOfCreatures) into one in my project, spare for the sharp-finned Sverdhvalur which most important feature (its sharp dorsal fin) I gave to the Japanese monster shark Isonade.

Reborn Form:

Sometimes when you defeat/kill a Raudkembingur it will turn into a Bakekujira/Ghost Whale, born from vengeance these ghostly skeletal whales never stop attacking and tracking their killers. Bakekujira are also found in the seas on their own in my project, but they can also spawn from killed Raudkembingur on the spot.

GASHADOKURO / BONE LORD

First Form:

A gigantic skeleton, nothing more, nothing less. They are created from the merged combined bones from the victims of starvation, a vile creation of the Horseman of Famine (Limos in my project)

Reborn Form:

After you defeat these giant skeletons, they will fall apart into a small army (5) of lesser skeletons (called Spartoi in my project).

STELLA

First Form:

These small Crown Of Thorns starfish monsters are burning with heat, in their first form they are red with almost red-hot spikes covering their bodies, Stella can control their own temperature and turn the water around them very hot.

Reborn Form:

After they are defeated however, their temperature and abilities changes to colder climates, they now can freeze the water around them and also the blood in their enemies bodies, their color changes to a beautiful blue with almost frozen spikes covering their entire starfish bodies.

SUCCARATH / SU

First Form:

See the artwork for what it looks like.

Reborn Form:

The Succarath doesn’t really change into a different form, it just spawns its children on the battlefield, and when you kill the Succarath while there is still a child alive, the soul of the Succarath will be transformed into its psychic child, morphing it instantly into the Succarath itself, you have to kill all the children first to really defeat this creature.

BOLOTNIK

First Form:

These fat, lazy and spoiled toad-humanoids sit on a mobile-throne which is carried at all times by four lesser Vodyanoi (frog-humanoids), the Bolotnik do all their magical attacks, which involve water, mud and quicksand, from their throne, using their magical muddy staff.

Reborn Form:

After you do enough damage, the poor four Vodyanoi slaves of the Bolotnik will perish and the mobile-throne will fall apart, so now the Bolotnik has to fight without it. It can still use magical attacks but also adds physical attacks to its list.

WENDIGO / WINDIGO

First Form:

The first form of the Wendigo has it hovering in the air, wearing the skull of a stag and mostly bestowing terrible magical curses of hunger and cannibalism on its victims/enemies and allies as well, which become more dangerous during the battle as they become more hungry for your flesh, it doesn’t attack physically at all during this stage.

Reborn Form:

After you do enough damage to the Wendigo its skull-mask breaks off and its true form becomes visible, the Wendigo falls from the sky and turns into a raging, hungry ghoul-like horror, instead of influencing others to become hungry it becomes gluttony incarnate itself, attacking with powerful claws and horrid overgrown teeth. You see, you can please both fans of the Wendigo at the same time! In my version it still wears the skull of a deer, but turns into a more accurate-to-the-real-myth version in its second form.

SLUAGH / WRAITH STORM

First Form:

Like a living swarm of spirits/wraiths, hovering together in an enormous tornado of souls and evil.

Reborn Form:

After you defeat the Sluagh, it turns into three ordinary Wraiths, the last three wraiths that survive, much like a spirit-version of the Gashadokuro turning into Spartoi Skeletons.

DRAUGR

First Form:

Draugr, in my project, look like veteran zombie warriors, arrows sticking from their bodies and into their eyes, daggers and swords are stuck in their undead flesh and it doesn’t seem to bother them at all, they only make great use of all these weapons and arrows inside them in their attacks and abilities.

Reborn Form:

The Draugr doesn’t change form at all, it just has the annoying ability to not stay dead for long, it has a 50% chance of resurrecting itself during the battle, and this can go on FOREVER if luck is on the Draugrs side, of course there is the option to just escape from battles.

@rtwork of Succarath and Heikegani = Paizo/Pathfinder

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 29

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 29: While spending time in Margate, Leah realizes the sacrifices she needs to make to protect her children.

         “Cyril, sit. Sit…Cyril, sit. Sit, now, sit!” Charlie frowned and gestured wildly at the mastiff who merely stared at him, drooling slightly. “See, he doesn’t listen to me. He only listens to dad.”

           Alfie walked over. “You need to make sure he knows you’re serious, mate. Look ‘im in the eye and say it with authority. You ain’t yelling, you’re being firm. Cyril, sit.”

           Charlie was amazed when the dog’s rump instantly dropped to the floor. His tail wagging.

           “Dogs are loyal creatures, they like being told what to do. Gotta be the leader. They were bred from wolves, ya know that right?” Alfie scratched Cyril behind the ears to praise him.

           “Yeah.”

           “So, you’ve gotta be the pack leader. If he were the pack leader nothing would get done, silly boy that he is.” Alfie chuckled.

           Charlie smiled and looked at his dog. “Are you gonna take him back when we leave, Alfie?” It had been weighing on the young boy the entire week they’d been at Margate. He did his best to show that he was taking good care of the dog.

           “Has he got a warm bed in Warwickshire?”

           Charlie nodded.

           “Two meals a day?”

           Another nod.

           “You and your sister play with him?”

           Nod.

           “Then why on Earth would I take him back, aye?” Alfie tousled Charlie’s hair and went to sit back down in his armchair. "If you take such good care of him, wouldn't be fair to take him away from you."

           “Because he was your dog. That’s what dad said.” Charlie crouched down beside Cyril to pet him.

           “Nah, mate, he’s been with you long enough. He’s your mutt now.” Alfie assured him.

           The front door opened and Johanna came running inside. “Hi!” She greeted the maid first, then Cyril, her brother, and finally Alfie.

           “Back from the shops?” Alfie smiled at the little girl.

           Leah came in after her daughter. The trip to the little town half a mile away had taken up a good chunk of the afternoon. It was Wednesday, a week after they’d arrived at Margate. There wasn’t much news from Tommy so they remained in limbo. Purgatory, as he’d so aptly called it earlier. All Leah could do was keep the children occupied and keep her mind off of the mess they were avoiding in Birmingham.

           Nights were the hardest. Once the kids were asleep, Leah had a hard time staying up and coping with the what-ifs. She lent a lot of her remaining sanity to Alfie who would stay up all hours of the night even if she didn’t ask him to. An outside opinion, the man provided better insight than she could’ve anticipated. Maybe partially losing his eyesight and spending his days reading the Torah gave him clarity. Or maybe they were all just driven mad.

           “Mrs. Shelby, your husband called half an hour earlier. I said you’d return the call when you and Johanna came back.” Alfie’s maid informed her.

           “Oh, yes, thank you. I’ll call him back right now.” Leah entered the parlor. “Charlie, Johanna, I’m going to call daddy if you’d like to say hello.”

           The two children followed her to the phone in Alfie’s study which was very rarely used. Not like in the days when he used to bring paperwork from the bakery on holiday with him. No, most of those documents had been burned. All that was left were more oddities that he collected. An egg that suspiciously looked like a Fabergé, a collection of shark teeth that he’d found on the beach, and peacock plumes.

           Johanna cuddled up on Leah’s lap as she called for Tommy. Charlie lingered by the desk but appeared more interested in the things Alfie had in his office instead of the impending phone call.

           “Hello, daddy!” Johanna chirped as Leah handed her the phone first once Tommy picked up.

           “Charlie, come say hello,” Leah whispered softly and beckoned for the young boy.

           He looked at the phone but balked and shook his head.

           As Johanna babbled on, answering Tommy’s questions about her day, Leah frowned. “Charles, don’t be silly and get over here, now.”

           He got a sour look on his face and backed away from the desk.

           “Charles Shelby, come just say hello.” She reiterated strictly.

           His face clouding over, he turned on his heel and left the office. Startled by her mother’s snap, Johanna stopped talking to Tommy. “Mummy…”

           “It’s okay, let me talk to daddy.” Leah took the phone from her daughter and shooed her out of the room.

           “Leah?” Tommy hadn’t heard the argument with Charlie.

           “He doesn’t want to even say hello to you.”

           There was a pause. “Who?”

           “Your son!

           “Oh, well, that’s okay. I can speak to him later.” Tommy didn’t seem too bothered. He’d been scorned by his son before, he chalked it up to just being a bratty Shelby child. He’d been a similar way once before. Maybe even still.

           Leah sighed and put her head in her hands. “I can’t keep holding everything together Tommy.”

           “There’s nothing for you to hold together, love, I’m going to make everything better. You can bring the kids home and it’ll all be okay.”

           There was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to shout at him or cry to him about. All the worries and anxious thoughts that kept her up late at night. The thoughts she could somehow disclose to Alfie Solomons but couldn’t tell her own husband. “How are you?” She whispered quietly.

           They were both putting on facades for each other over the phone. Tommy had just set off an explosion, breaking out his mentally ill war buddy with intent to make him an assassin again. But he wasn’t sure who would be listening to his phone lines so he couldn’t tell his wife. “I’m doing alright.”

           She swallowed and closed her eyes. “Do you miss me?”

           “What sort of question is that?”

           With a tearful scoff, she shook her head. “A valid one.”

           “Why wouldn’t I miss the only person who gives me any sort of peace?” He replied.

           A few tears slipped down Leah’s cheeks. “Tom, please.” She whispered. “What would I do if something happened to you?”

           Tommy knew that he could keep telling her the same thing over and over again. Nothing would happen to him. He’d be alright and soon enough they’d all be home together again. But it always reached a point when they just became words and words became meaningless. If they had limited time together, why would they waste that time with meaningless words?

           “Love, can you go get Alfie?” Tommy asked. "I'd like to speak with him about something."

           Leah wiped her tears. “Yeah, okay.” She rested the phone on the desk and left the office to find Alfie.

~~~~~~~~~

           Johanna was playing with the new doll they’d bought on their trip to the shops. Charlie had his back turned to them, sitting on the balcony with the gold-plated binoculars. Alfie was reading in his usual spot, Cyril wandering back and forth between him and Charlie.

           “Alfie, Tommy was wondering if he could speak with you?”

           The man looked surprised but nodded. “'Course.” He patted Cyril and went to the study.

           Leah sat and chewed on her lower lip. She looked to Charlie but decided there was no use in arguing with him anymore. All she wanted was to make sure if they lost Tommy, Charlie would never have any regrets. He wouldn’t be haunted by that single phone call. The one he could’ve said hello to his father for the last time but didn’t. But the boy was too young to understand that.

           “Mum?” To Leah’s surprise, Charlie broke the silence in the parlor. She assumed that he would sulk and pout the rest of the day away without speaking a word to her or anyone else.

           “Yes?”

           “Who’s that down there?” He pointed to the beach below the balcony.

           She stood up and went to see who he was talking about. “I’m not sure, love. Just someone passing-” There wasn’t much chance to see what the man looked like. All she saw was him lift a rifle and point up towards the balcony.

           Reacting quickly, Leah grabbed Charlie by the collar and tore him backward. Johanna screamed when the loud bang went off. The bullet went through the parlor and hit the opposite wall. Heart pounding, Leah grabbed her daughter and shielded her children with her body. Another shot went off, hitting a glass cabinet above their heads. Johanna was wailing in fear over Leah as she whispered the Lord’s Prayer to them and her unborn child.

           One more bang went off and everything went silent. Heavy footsteps entered the parlor.

           “S’alright.” Alfie came in with a pistol tucked in his waistband. He helped Leah and the children up. “S’alright.”

           Leah sat on the floor with Johanna in her arms. She hushed her softly, rocking her back and forth to soothe her.

           Charlie wandered over to the balcony. The man was still there but he was on his back, the rifle had fallen away from his hand. Dark red seeped from his head into the damp sand beneath him. He couldn’t look away from the dead body.

           Alfie came up behind the young boy. He placed a spent bullet, the one that had landed in the cabinet, in the boy’s hand. “Here. C’mon now. I’ll have Maggie make you something to eat.”

           Charlie nodded silently and followed Alfie to the kitchen like a zombie. Passing by his distraught sister and his spooked mother. He sat in front of the jam sandwich placed in front of him but he didn’t eat.

~~~~~~~~~

           It was a miracle the children went down for the night. Johanna didn’t know any better. She was just spooked by the loud noises. Charlie was in a daze for the rest of the night and went to bed without saying much. He closed his eyes but couldn’t fall asleep, little to Leah’s knowledge.

        The woman was too worked up to really tell if he was asleep or not. She paced in the parlor about ready to tear her hair out. “He’s lied to me so many times. He lies and he lies and he lies.” She ranted over and over again.

        Alfie sat in the room with his gun at hand just in case. He’d done a good few rounds around his land making sure there wasn’t anyone else straggling. As he got rid of the body, he took note of the man’s identification. Perhaps he was just a lone wolf looking to get even. Maybe he’d heard of Alfie’s resurrection. Maybe he’d followed Leah and the children to Margate.

        Leah didn’t seem to care what the reason was. She was sick of feeling like they were in danger everywhere they turned to. “No more.” She stopped in her tracks. “No more.”

        Alfie could see her resolve was breaking. The hope she held out for Tommy Shelby. “What are you gonna do then? What’s your goal?” He asked her the same question he’d asked days before.

        “My children come first.” She insisted. “Not Tommy Fucking Shelby.” She spat. “I will not have their lives put at risk. They deserve to grow up safe and happy.” Tears filled her eyes.

        “So, what are you gonna do?”

        “I’m leaving.” The words came out before she could really process them. “I’m leaving…I’m going somewhere else. Somewhere far…America. I’ll go to America if it means keeping them safe.” She wiped her eyes. “His actions won’t put them in danger anymore, I won’t let him.”

        Alfie nodded but didn’t say anything else. He simply let her sit with the idea.

        Leah wrung her hands together and let out a gasp of air. “Tell me I’m crazy.”

        He simply shrugged. “Not my decision to make.” He pointed up to the ceiling. “I leave that shit up to God.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

        In the morning, Leah had all the bags packed. She didn’t call Tommy to tell him they were leaving Margate. Instead, she called Polly and headed to her flat in London.

        “Up you go then, thata girl.” Alfie helped Johanna into the backseat of the car. “And there goes Cyril. And last but not least, Mr. Charles.”

        Charlie looked up at the man. “Are we gonna see you again soon, Alfie?” He asked quietly.

        “I should hope so, mate. You, your sister and Cyril can come visit anytime mum says it’s okay.” Alfie smiled and tousled the boy’s hair.

        Leah walked up to Alfie after he shut the car door. “I can’t thank you enough. I’m sorry to leave on such short notice. And I don’t mean to have Tommy give you any grief for what I’ve done.”

        “I can handle whatever grief Tommy wants to fucking give me. Now you remember that this is his battle he’s fighting. Ain’t yours and it ain’t the kids’ either.”

        “Thank you, Alfie.” She kissed his cheek and went to get in the car.

        “Bye, Mr. Alfie!” Johanna called out the window.

        Alfie waved to them as the car pulled out of the drive. He wandered back inside and waited for the phone to ring and for Tommy Shelby to rain hell down upon him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

        Leah promised Polly that she would sit on the decision for a few days. Besides, it would take a few days to secure a ticket to America. Tommy wouldn’t know they were with her. Instead, he assumed they were still in Margate. Alfie sent a telegram to Tommy in Leah’s name saying that the phone line had gone down and it would be a few days before it would be operating again.

        “I’m so sorry, Pol,” Leah whispered.

        It was day three of their stay at Polly’s. Leah had made up her mind. The children were packed to go to America with her. The tickets were booked and she didn’t intend on going back on her plan.

        Polly and Leah were sat in the kitchen. Johanna had fallen asleep in Leah’s arms. Charlie had already retired to bed for the night. In the morning, they would be on their way to the docks. Leah still wasn’t sure how she would tell them that Tommy wouldn’t be accompanying them.

        “Why are you apologizing?” Polly asked.

        “Because I’m taking the children away from you and the rest of the family. It’s not right I know-”

        “A mother’s intuition is never wrong.” Polly touched Leah’s shoulder and gave her a firm look. “Why should I blame you for wanting to keep them safe from harm? If you think this is best, then it’s best.”

        Leah bit her lip to try and hold back her tears. “Tommy’ll be so angry with me.”

        “Maybe he should have seen this coming.” Polly mused. “He can’t play God and think that everything will be okay.”

        Leah listened to Johanna’s soft breathing against her shoulder. “I love him, but I can’t sacrifice my children for him. It was so close, Pol. If I hadn’t been there…” The words were caught in her throat. She couldn’t get the haunting thought out of her head. What could’ve been if she hadn’t pulled him away in time?

        Charlie laying in the parlor, blood seeping into the carpet. There would be nothing she could do. He would be gone before she could even react.

        Polly hushed her softly and handed her a handkerchief. “But you were there. And you’re here now with them. Trust that you know what’s best for them and follow that path.”

~~~~~~~~~~

        So, Leah did. Polly gave her the necessary funds to make do in America. Johanna was still asleep in Leah’s arms as they boarded the ship. There was a chill in the air so Leah kept her head down. Charlie stuck close to her, holding onto her skirt so he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd.

        “Mum, dad’s not coming with us, is he?” He asked quietly once they were settled in their cabin on the ship.

        Leah set Johanna down on the bed so she could nap. “No, poppet. We can’t be with him right now. I’m sorry.” She replied, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. But every nerve in her body was on alert. Part of her wanted to turn around and run back to Tommy. Part of her wanted to never go back.

        He nodded slowly and stepped onto a piece of luggage to look out the porthole. There was nothing but the ocean ahead of him. When he thought Leah wasn’t paying attention, he reached into his pocket. The bullet Alfie had given him safely tucked away. It was odd, but he knew why they were leaving without Tommy. He knew why they couldn’t stay. His father shot things. Sometimes things shot back.

~~~~~~~~~~

        Tommy allowed the charade of the phone line excuse to go on for three days. The day Leah left with the children; he began asking questions. The telegrams were starting to sound very unlike his wife. In fact, there were some clues that Alfie Solomons was the author.

        Tommy was livid. He delayed his meeting with Barney to drive to Polly’s. Only a stop before he intended to go to Margate and make sure Alfie Solomons hadn’t done away with his family.

        “It’s been three days, the fucking telegrams aren’t being written by her.” Tommy stormed into Polly’s flat unannounced.

        Polly had been waiting for her nephew to catch up to things. “Tommy, sit down.” She requested firmly.

        Tommy’s eyes were wild as he turned to her. Something was up, he knew it was. “Where are they?”

        “Sit down.”

        Nerves frayed, he had no desire to sit down and be talked to like a child. “Where are my fucking children?!” He roared.

       So,  Polly stood up instead. “They’ve left. Leah’s taken them to Boston.” She told him point-blank.

        So many emotions hit the man all at once. “Fuck!” He shouted and looked for something to break.

        Instead, Polly grabbed him by the arm before he could make any sudden or destructive movements. “Don’t you understand what you’ve been doing to her? What this has done to the children?”

        “She can’t take them away from me!”

        “Charlie was nearly shot in the fucking face, Thomas!” Polly shouted back at him.

        It was as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him. It was news to him. Since the gunman was killed, no information had gotten back to him. No ransom notes or threats.

        “Alfie wasn’t sure who it was but he found the house and shot at Charlie while he was on the balcony. The only reason he survived was because Leah pulled him out of the way.”

        Tommy’s muscles began to give out on him. His aunt pulled up a chair for him and guided him into it when she saw it looked like he was about to keel over. “She felt backed into a corner, she wanted to keep the children safe.”

        He put his head in his hands. The weight of his reality felt like it was crushing him to bits. A mere thread, that's what he was holding onto. Leah and his children were the only genuine thing he had left. His only source of happiness. “I tried, Pol…I fucking tried. I did everything I fucking could." He felt close to dry heaving. The room was closing in on him. "It wasn't enough." He whispered.

        “I know you did.” She touched his shoulder. “We all did. But maybe we can’t keep her safe.”

        He inhaled sharply and lifted his head. “Where is she staying?” He stood and started to compose himself. There was no way he'd be able to find them if he lost his sanity, or what was left of it.

        Polly pursed her lips. “She asked me not to tell you. She entrusted me and I don’t take that lightly, Thomas.”

        Tommy snapped in an instant and swept everything off the table. “Where is she fucking staying?” But it was no use, his aunt had dealt with enough of his tantrums and knew not to cave it. When he was stonewalled, he stood up with a fury. “Fine, I don’t fucking need you to tell me. I’ll find out on me own.” He growled and left the flat, slamming the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~

        The first night knowing his family was in America, Tommy lost control. He felt like he'd lost control of everything. His career, his business, his finances, and now his own fucking family. He’d spent the rest of the day putting out alerts to all the contacts he had in Boston and even New York just in case. Anyone under the name Leah Shelby, Leah Ward, Leah Robinson, anyone who matched her description or the children’s description was to be reported back to him as soon as possible.

        When he called every person he possibly could, he drank and he downed as much morphine as he could find. Maybe it would finally kill him.

          Slumped over on the floor of the big room, Tommy looked up to see Grace standing by the fireplace.

        “Aren’t you happy, Tom?” She asked softly. “They’re away from you, finally. They’re safe now. An entire ocean between you.” The blonde woman sighed softly. “I remember when I tried to run to America. I could never keep you off my mind. Maybe she can learn to forget you. Maybe she won’t make the mistake I made by returning to you. Maybe if I stayed in America, I’d still be alive.” Blood began to seep from the sapphire around her neck. But she smiled peacefully. “I know you want her to stay there. You know something will happen to her if she comes back.”

        Tommy screamed until his throat felt raw. When he lost his breath he threw the nearest bottle at the hallucination of his dead wife. The glass shattered and knocked several picture frames off the mantle over the fireplace.

        He got up shakily and wandered over to see which ones had faced a causality. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the broken glass digging through his trousers and into his skin. He was too numb to feel the pain. He’d always been numb without her.

        The one of Charlie on his first pony. His wedding to Leah. Johanna’s first birthday. They’d all escaped from their silver-plated frames and were let loose in the stray glass shards. Tears streaming down his face, Tommy picked the photographs out of the glass. He held them close to his chest and prayed to either see them again or to let God finally take him.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @shelbyblinded

Masterpost 

PB Masterlist

[forever-more-never-again]

Scales and Scars (Part Seven)

Aizawa-Yamada [Y/n] - Given quirks through experimentation, thus their quirks are ‘Artificial’ and not considered ‘true’ quirks

First Quirk: Shadow Manipulation

Uses: Shadow manipulation allows the user to travel almost like teleportation from shadow to shadow by ‘sensing’ the shadows around the user. User is able to control the shadows and form objects. User can change the density of shadows. user also has excellent night vision.

Drawbacks: User experiences flashes of coldness from the presence of shadows, and if holds onto a shadow for too long will begin to develop frost bite.

Second Quirk: Dragon Shift

Uses: User can shift into a dragon, varying in size, and breath fire when in Dragon Form. It is a full shift, and user can not half-shift. Impressive strength in Dragon Form. Excellent vision and sense of smell. Large talons and teeth can break through almost any material.

Drawbacks: User cannot form coherent/rational thoughts while in dragon form and reverts to an animilistic and bloodthirsty mindset.

a/n:Get Ready... Italics are flashbacks

Word Count: 1909

Pairings: Eraserhead(AIzawa) X PresentMic(Hizashi), Reader X Class1A (Will have multiple endings for pairings)

Warnings: Yelling, Swearing, Panic Attacks, Flash backs, Mentions of death

Prologue / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six

Masterlist

Your own battle trial was short lived. Having Ashido on your team, against Aoyoma and Toru was ridiculously easy. You had captured the bomb in the first three minutes.

That evening, back at home, you collapsed on the living room floor and cuddled with Inu and Hund. 

“What’s wrong Lil’ Listener!?” Your Pa’s voice was loud even without his quirk, making your groan.

“I hate Teenagers.” You grumbled into the carpet. Inu punctuating your statement with a meow.

Hizashi laughed, “You sound just like Shou!”

Lifting your head to give your Pa a deadbeat stare you missed your dad rounding the couch just to steal Hund from where he was sitting on your back.

Whirling up so that you were sitting, you gaped at your Dad, “Hey!”

Shouta shrugged, sitting on the couch petting Hund who was purring up a storm, “Your loss Problem Child.”

You pouted, “You called Midoriya Problem Child to.”

Shouta groaned, “Don’t remind me. That kid is going to be trouble.”

“Why didn’t you expel him then? I know you would’ve if you thought he didn’t have potential.”

You cradled Inu in your arms, staying on the floor as Hizashi collapsed onto the couch beside his husband.

“Hmph.”

And you knew you wouldn’t get an answer.

Sighing deeply, you stood up, “I’m going to my room. Call me when Dinner’s ready?”

Your Pa waved lazily at you as Inu went to his lap.

Shaking your head fondly at your cat’s tactics and your dad’s, you shut your bedroom door and grabbed your phone.

Somehow Ashido had managed to grab everyone’s number and made a class Group Chat. Which was already hell in a handbasket.

Before opening that one, you sent a message to Shinsou.

Kitten: My Cats have betrayed me.

Zombie: ???

Kitten: They chose my father’s over me

Zombie: So...same thing as everyday?

Kitten: WHA!@HKDSJSJGKSH??? NO!

Zombie: Whatever you say Kitten

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his last message. Even though you had changed your screen name to Kitten, it felt… different, when other people call you that.

Switching over to the group chat, you scrolled up a bit to see what was happening before joining in.

Alien: And then they just popped out and screamed ‘Hot and ready!’

Engines: Ashido, I beg you. Please stop telling us these stories.

Ghost: I don’t know Iida-kun, I find it quite funny

Alien: Aww thks babe

MOMo: I find I agree with Iida, we’ve barely met each other. 

Pikachu: That’s why this chat is a good idea! We get to know each other outside of the classroom

Shark: Yeah! It’s super manly!

Kitten: You all are going to give me a headache, I can feel it

Alien: OMG Yamada is that you!?

Ghost: That screen name is adorbs!

Kitten: … Thank

Bomb: WHO THE HELL IS BLOWING UP MY PHO-

Shark: They got jeana!

Tape: What the hell happened to bakugou?

Bomb: Shut up you extras!

Kitten: You cant call pple extras asshole!

Zombie: Kitten has claws

Engines: As entertaining as this is, I suggest we get ready for sleep for tomorrow.

Turning your phone onto silent, you got ready for dinner.

After eating and petting your cats, you crawled into bed. That night, your dreams were a kaleidoscope of Burning Rubies, Yellow sunsets, Black Feathers, and hazy purple smoke.

The next day, you skipped into the classroom, surprised to see a lot of your classmates already there. It had been hard to get into the school due to all the reporters outside hounding the students about All Might.

“Hey Yamada!” Ashido flung herself onto you, clinging like a koala, “Join us!”

And you found yourself being dragged over to Kirishima’s desk where Tape arms, Pikachu and Bakugou were standing.

Ashido finally let go of you, but stayed close to your side. Smiling widely, she announced, “Guys! I brought [Y/n]!”

Tape Arms smiled and held out his hand, “Sero Hanta.”

You shook his hand, smiling back,  “Yamada [Y/n] but I tell everyone to call me [Y/n].”

You looked over to see Bakugou and Kirishima both looking slightly flustered. Before you could wonder more about that, you found your arm being yanked yet again as you were dragged to your desk.

“Hi ‘Toshi!” You smiled brightly up at the purpleinette.

He grunted, the shadows under his eyes telling a story of a restless night.

“Morning Class.” The silence was sudden and slightly unsettling as everyone flung themselves into their seats and sat at attention as soon as the door opened to reveal Aizawa.

You stifled a giggle. Your father sounded like he would rather be anywhere but here.

“Today you have an important task.” He paused dramatically, and you could practically see the waves of tension and fear on your classmates.

With a deadpan stare Aizawa stated, “You need to pick a class representative.”

And the floodgates opened.

“Me! Pick me!”

“I want to do it!”

“I’m better than all you extras!”

“I wouldn’t mind it.”

You sat back in your chair, you had no desire to be class Representative. No desire to deal with responsibilities and Duties.

Aizawa butted into the yelling contest, stopping everyone for a moment, “I don’t care how you choose, you have until the end of homeroom to pick a Representative and a Vice.”

And without, he pulled out his yellow sleeping bag from behind the podium and rolled over to nap.

Iida stood up and began taking control, “We should put it to a vote!”

Kaminara pointed out a flaw, “Wouldn’t everyone vote for themselves?”

Asui piped in with a croak, “We don’t really know each other well enough.”

That just fueled Iida, “That’s why whoever has the most votes would be best suited as it shows their classmates trust and faith in them!”

Uraraka giggled, “You just want the position for yourself don’t you Iida-kun?”

Iida deflated slightly, “I won’t pretend that I do not desire the position, but I still stand that we should vote!”

And with that, everyone got out a piece of paper and the sound of pencils scratching on paper filled the air.

You stared down at your piece of paper and then glanced around the room.

You could think of a few people who you thought would do a good job. 

Yaomomo was steady and would follow the rules by guiding people to them. Iida would be a stickler for the rules and enforce them.

Your gaze swung to the desks before you. There was Bakugou who was brash and harsh, but you knew he cared underneath his hard exterior due to what happened at the battle trial.

There was also Midoriya. You saw how everyone rallied when he put his all into his battle trail. Pushing everyone to try their hardest.

Flickering your eyes to your friends, you thought of Shinsou being the relaxed voice of reason. And Tokoyami being a relief from the seriousness of the Course.

In the end, you decided to go with Bakugo. Knowing he would make sure people followed the rules, by pushing them to be better. 

Writing his name down, you handed it to Iida when he passed.

Aizawa woke up and took the ballots and counted them, and wrote the names and tallies on the board.

Silence.

And then.

“Who the Hell voted for Bakugo!?”

“I lost. It was my plan but still...no votes.”

“Woah! Deku! You Won!”

You stared at the board.

Midoriya: 4 votes

Yaoyorozu: 3 votes

Bakugou: 2 votes

Aizawa called out dryly, “It looks like Midoriya will be Class Representative with Yaoyorozu as your Vice Representative.

Poor Midoriya looked like a leaf shaking in the wind as he stood before the class.

With Yaomomo looking stoic.

After that, the rest of the day went by fairly fast and before you knew it, it was time for lunch.

As you walked past the table where Ashido, Kaminari, Sero, Kirishima and Bakugou where, you heard Bakugou muttering, “Alright! Which one of you idiots voted for me!?”

Kirishima laughed good naturally, “Bro, I thought you wanted the position?”

Bakugo snarled, “I did, but now I just want to know who was the other person who wanted me to have it.”

You couldn’t help yourself. Balancing your tray of food in one hand, you leaned over Bakugou's shoulder to whisper teasingly into his ear, “Was I wrong to vote for you?” 

Dancing back, you laughed at Bakugou's shout of surprise and the small pops of his quirk from his palms.

Still laughing slightly, you walked to your usual table where Shinsou and Tokoyami already sat.

“Hey [Y/n], what did you say to blasty to make him glare at you like that.” Shinsou asked.

Looking back to the other table, you saw that he was right. Bakugou was glaring at you, his red eyes holding a heat that made you squirm a little in your seat.

Turning back around abruptly, you shrugged and dug into your rice. “ I just told him that I was the other vote for him.”

Tokoyami choked on his water. You patted his back as you waited for him to catch his breath. And then you were met with two disbelieving gazes.

“What?” You tilted your head, confused with their responses.

Shinsou spoke first, “You voted for Blasty?”

Again, you were confused. Squinting your eyes slightly, your answer came out like a question, “Yes?”

Before either boy could open their mouth to ask you more about your choice, a shrill alarm began shrieking through the cafeteria.

“What’s going on!?”

A third year ran past your table, “It’s a level four Alarm! It means someone broke through the barricade!”

Everyone began running, panicked. Everyone, except for you. 

As soon as you heard the shrieking of the alarm, it was like you had been thrown back and were once again five years old. Hearing the shrill scream from the room beside your cell.

Your eyes grew hazy as you fell into the memory.

“Useless! The Quirk is not compatible with its body.”

“Throw them in the incinerator. We can’t have any mistakes or loose ends.”

“Understood.”

“No! Please! I’ll be good! I’ll be good! Please! Mommy! MOOOMMYYY! AGHHHHH!”

Your breathing became erratic and without realizing it, you slipped into a shadow and flew across the school until you popped out in the hallway before the teacher’s lounge door.

Falling to your knees, you dry heaved and choked on a sob. Your mind still replaying the sound of the child screaming before the fire cut all sounds from him.

Drawing in a deep breath, you shakily stood on your feet and staggered to the door. You need Aizawa. You needed your dad. You could feel the shift under your skin, Screaming to be released in the presence of danger and your panic.

As your hand reached for the handle, something made you pause. Holding your breath, you felt a rush of cold air tingle over you.

Familiar.

Panic once again surged forward, but you held it back as you struggled to make out the sounds behind the door.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

You knew those footsteps. You had spent nearly five years hearing these footsteps on the floorboards above your head. The incessant scratch of skin. The quiet mutters.

They were back. They had found you. 

Panicking and struggling against your quirk, you did the only thing you could think of doing. You Screamed.

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t​ @mialeelavellan​ @rainydaysrnevergrey​ @platonic-plots​ @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi​ @queenbbarnes​ @mythixmagic​ @chas-z​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @strangersstranger​ @princess-evans-addict​ @rororo06​ @timelordhunterandmysterysolver​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 

Scales and Scars (BNHA) Taglist:

@trash1ty​ @darkfaethedestroyer​ @foxinaforestofstars​ @axolotl-of-evil​ @inumorph​

[kezikatescribbling]

Where Did You Go?

Chapter 1: See You Later

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

F/M

Summary: Leon and [Yn] have been friends for years, but over the past two weeks they finally began dating. It's all going well until [Yn] goes missing. With a trail of clues that leave Leon more questions than answers, will he be able to find her?

Also on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20546981/chapters/48773189

“Alright babe, I’ll see you tonight for dinner?” [Yn] leans in for a quick last kiss at the door, Leon meeting her lips with his, chasing after them to prolong the contact as [Yn] pulls away, laughing and gently pushing him away.

“Mmm, pizza, cheesy, unrealistic sci-fi horror movies about sharks, and you. A trifecta.” He reaches out and pulls [Yn] close, “I,” a kiss on her cheek, “can’t,” a kiss to the other cheek, “wait.” A kiss on the nose. [Yn] giggling adorably with each soft brush of Leon’s lips left him feeling warm inside and he couldn’t keep the dazzling grin from his face.

Getting one last desperate kiss, Leon finally lets [Yn] escape his apartment. It won’t be too long until he sees her again. But even so, dinner felt so long away, and Leon was beginning to think he was getting addicted to [Yn]’s kisses.

                                                    🙠

This budding romance was still new, only officially turning romantic a couple weeks ago. [Yn] has been Leon’s closest friend for several years now, and as a fellow survivor of the Raccoon City incident, a rare, and deeply treasured, outlet for his insecurities and worries about the state of the world and the growing threat of bio-organic terror. But recently, things had started to change.

Leon found himself fixating on little things, things he was sure others wouldn’t notice; like how their [Yn]’s shone a slightly different color at just the right angle in the sunlight, the different colored flecks in her eyes that you could only see if you were close, the way she had an extra spring in her step sometimes when she walked up to him, hands behind her back and fighting a grin, and he just knew she had gotten him a special treat, usually a cupcake, [Yn] had one hell of a sweet tooth.

There were a million other things, and he could spend hours listing them all. He had started noticing these things about a year ago, and boy had he been terrified.  [Yn] was special to him in a way no one had been before in his life, and he could not mess that up. He’d berated himself for being a cliche, all the while keeping his feelings a secret and trying his best to be happy with what he had, smothering that spark of hope that their relationship could be more.

As the months went by, he had grown accustomed to the bittersweet ache in his chest every time [Yn] was near, close enough to touch, to kiss, to confess all the emotions he’d been holding back, but was too afraid to voice. He told himself it was worth the pain to keep her close. Leon didn’t know what he’d do without [Yn] in his life, and he was not willing to risk it.

Then, two weeks ago, [Yn] had invited Leon to the local pond to go swimming. It was a beautiful sunny day, most likely the last warm day, as fall was settling in. He, of course, said yes, and enjoyed the day of laughter and sunshine, while internally reminding himself that it was not a date. While [Yn] was stalking him in the water, Leon decided it was time for some revenge for all the splashing he’d endured. He shot [Yn] a playful grin before diving under the water and under [Yn]’s feet to come up behind her, suddenly reaching out and grabbing her waist. 

[Yn] obviously had not seen that coming and gasped, turning fast in the water and scrambling away from the sudden unexpected contact. Unfortunately, in the flailing [Yn] had gone just below the surface before the gasp of surprise, and ended up breathing in a sharp breath of mostly water.

Leon didn’t even have the chance to enjoy the adorable shocked look on [Yn]’s face before [Yn] was in a coughing fit, her body desperately trying to expel the water and get air in its place. Seeing her struggling, Leon feels panic set in and before he knows it he’s dragging [Yn] back to shore and carrying her to their blanket that was laid out in the grass close by. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around [Yn]’s shoulders alternating between rubbing soothing circles into her back and giving gentle smacks between her shoulder blades to help get the water out.

Leon could feel the worry pinching his face, his heart pounding in his chest as he fought back the panic, telling himself it was just a little water, [Yn] was ok, she was going to be ok. He watched [Yn]’s face, her eyes watering, face red from the powerful coughs, fighting for control over her breathing.

After what felt like hours to Leon, [Yn] finally started to stop coughing, only letting out a few randomly, taking deep breaths, filling her lungs with air again. Leon sagged with relief, throwing a tired smile at [Yn], who returned it, still blinking back the tears from the coughing.

Leon still had his arm around [Yn], but in his distraction he had stopped rubbing her back, instead, winding around her waist, thumb gently caressing her hip. He found himself mesmerized again by [Yn]’s eyes, falling into their depths, and never wanting to resurface. [Yn] was so close, he could feel her breath on his face, and before he could stop himself he was leaning in to finally, finally press his lips against [Yn]’s, eyes fluttering shut as he feels that her lips really were as soft as they looked.

Leon’s thoughts catch up with him and he pulls back, an apology on the tip of his tongue, when he sees the soft look on [Yn]’s face, a grin breaking and those beautiful eyes sparkling.

“Took you long enough.” [Yn] whispers before leaning in for a longer kiss, her hand coming up to slide fingers through Leon’s hair, gripping it lightly, pulling him even closer. Leon laughs delightedly into the kiss wrapping his arms around [Yn]’s towel swaddled body and holding on tight, never wanting to let go.

                                                      🙠

Leon smiles at the memory and goes around the apartment, clearing the dishes from their late breakfast and putting the couch pillows back where they belong. [Yn] had an odd fixation with sitting on the floor. [Yn] loved curling up with a blanket and leaning against the couch, putting the cushions behind her to make it more comfortable. It was one of [Yn]’s many quirks that Leon found endearing and adorable, not minding at all that his living room was nearly always in shambles.

Leon keeps himself busy, putting finishing touches on a few reports, cleaning the already clean counter, vacuuming the floor of the living room, just to make sure the carpet is clean for snuggling up on it later for movies. He does all this while trying, and failing, to keep his eyes off the clock. At six o’clock, close to when [Yn] will be back, Leon puts her favorite blanket in the clothes dryer so it will be warm when she arrives. Pizza is on the way, and the movie is queued up, all that’s missing is [Yn].

Leon fiddles with the pillows, getting them to sit just so, then deciding to rearrange them again, then again. He checks his phone every few minutes, just to make sure he didn’t miss a call, but of course he hasn’t, it’s never more than a few feet from him, it would be impossible to not hear it.

Around seven, Leon starts to wonder where [Yn] is. It’s really not like her to be late. She had to drop some things off at the office and run a couple errands, and she’d estimated that she’d be back, at the very latest, by six thirty. But she could have stopped to get something on the way over.

Leon’s mind is buzzing with possibilities, most of them painting terrible pictures in his mind; [Yn] in trouble, backed into a corner, zombies chasing her through the streets, her voice, clouded with fear, calling out for help, calling for him, but he’s not there.

Leon screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, trying to jar the images loose, drown out the awful thoughts. He opens his eyes and grabs the remote, flipping the TV on to a random channel, something he doesn’t have much interest in, but at least it fills the silence of the apartment.

At eight, Leon is officially worried. He tries calling [Yn], but it goes straight to voicemail. He bites his lip, his heart starting to beat faster. He tries calling again, still straight to voicemail. He covers his face with his hands and tries to take deep breaths, tries to find logical, not deathly, reasons why [Yn] is late and not answering her phone. 

Maybe she’s stuck in a tunnel with no service? That’s ridiculous, there aren’t any tunnels nearby that she could reasonably be trapped in. Her phone could be dead, but she never leaves it uncharged, or off, just in case of an emergency. Someone needed to talk to her at work, and held her up? But no, she would have called him from one of the work phones at least.

Leon’s plan to calm himself with logic and reason are backfiring. The truth is...There is no good explanation he can come up with that would explain all the variables. Why would she be late and not let him know, why is her phone off? Questions are swirling out of control in Leon’s mind, and at last he can’t take it anymore.

He’s done waiting.

Ch. 2

[ezatluba]

The truth about sharks

Why we need sharks: the true nature of the ocean's 'monstrous villains'

There are more than 500 known species of sharks. Illustration: Good Wives and Warriors

Why did dolphins get Flipper while sharks got Jaws? These majestic, diverse animals bring balance to the ocean ecosystem – and they’re in grave danger

by Helen Scales

6 Jul 2020 

Each day, as the sun sets over the coral-fringed Raja Ampat Islands in Indonesia, an underwater predator stirs. As predators go, it’s not especially big or ferocious – an arm’s length from head to tail, with a snuffling, moustachioed snout.

What’s unique is that it doesn’t so much swim along the seabed as walk. Using its four fins as legs, and twisting its spine like a lizard, it can emerge from the water and hold its breath for an hour, strutting across the exposed reef and clambering between tide pools to find prey.

It’s a walking shark, and far from the stereotypical view of these baleful beasts, it tells an alternative story of how sharks look and live. Biologists recently confirmed there are nine species of walking sharks. They are the ocean’s newest sharks – probably only 9m years old as a group, with the two youngest species splitting apart less than 2m years ago – challenging the long-held notion that sharks are ancient and unchanging. They are not evolutionary survivors from bygone eras, but animals that continue to adapt.

The walking sharks themselves are just a fraction of the immense diversity of sharks. There are bramble sharks and gollumsharks, night sharks and shy sharks, clouded angelsharks and splendid lanternsharks; there are fat catsharks, mouse catsharks, frog, cow and weasel sharks. In all, more than 1,000 elasmobranch species are alive today. One in 10 shark species are bioluminescent: they light up in the dark. Another is so small you could tuck it in a pocket, and it has little pockets of its own – filled, for an unknown reason, with glowing goo. Some sharks puff up to look bigger and scarier than they really are. Mother sharks can be pregnant for three years at a time, or have virgin births.

There are bramble sharks and gollumsharks, night sharks and shy sharks, clouded angelsharks and splendid lanternsharks

But if all you knew about sharks you learned from Hollywood, you’d think they were aquatic horrors. Sharks have a film genre all their own: there are movies about ghost sharks and zombie sharks, sharks that squirt acid, killer sharks that swim through sand or snow, and a staggering six instalments of the Sharknado film franchise.

Even more problematic is when the more believable films depict sharks as monstrous villains: in 2016, The Shallowsfeatured a female surfer being brutally attacked by a vengeful great white, leading a group of marine scientists to write an open letter to Columbia Pictures warning that the movie was a dangerous mischaracterisation that could keep the tide of public opinion turned against sharks.

In reality, sharks are overfished in their millions. They aren’t adapted to being prey, rather than predator: sharks grow slowly, spending ages as teenagers before reaching maturity; they lay few eggs and give birth to few pups, not enough to replenish dwindling populations. Those that stay alive can spend decades, even centuries, absorbing man-made pollutants and plastics. Individual sharks have seen their world become hotter and more acidic in their lifetime: Greenland sharks swimming around today were born when the Arctic Ocean was several degrees cooler. The upshot of all this is bleakly predictable. At last count, a quarter of all sharks and their flattened cousins, the rays, were found to be threatened with extinction.

Sharks matter to humanity. Much is lost when they vanish from the seas. “There’s a lot we can learn from sharks,” says Jasmin Graham, shark biologist and project coordinator of MarSci-Lace at Mote Marine Laboratory in Florida, where researchers are investigating how sharks quickly heal wounds and how they evolved immunity to many diseases. “If they’re not here, then that evolutionary history, that information, is lost.” At the 2008 Beijing Olympics, swimmer Michael Phelps won eight gold medals wearing a suit inspired by the tiny, toothlike denticles in sharks’ skin that reduce drag and boost their speed. (The suits were later banned after studies revealed that they trap air bubbles, helping swimmers float.)

Sharks matter not just because they can be useful for humans, however, but entire ocean ecosystems. “Lots of shark species have been shown to be keystone predators,” says Graham. “They maintain balance in ecosystems and keep things in order, removing weaker, sicker prey and stopping any single species from exploding in numbers and taking over.” One study comparing remote islands in the Central Pacific showed that when sharks are fished out, coral reefs can become dominated by small fish and overrun by algae. “We don’t understand until we lose the species how important it was,” says Graham.

Sharks maintain balance in ecosystems and keep things in order

We need to talk about sharks. Though no sharks have yet gone the way of the dodo, plenty of species are lined up for imminent extinction. And the loss of sharks is not just about species blinking out, but a diminishment from their former abundance. Just like the erasing of native fauna from the continents – of bears and wolves, tigers and lions, koalas and kakapos – so the oceans are now losing their sharks. The only difference is that their dying out mostly goes unnoticed.

In more than 20 years of diving and researching the oceans I’ve had many encounters with wild sharks, each one a moment to treasure and note in my dive logbook. I used to feel adventurous when family and friends asked me if I was scared to dive with sharks. (No, never.) But increasingly, as the question keeps being asked, it unsettles me – that so many people still think this way.

For years, scientists and conservationists have been saying that sharks have more to fear from humans than we have from them. Pick whichever statistic you like best of things far more likely to kill you: a toppling vending machine, a falling coconut. Still there’s this lingering idea that sharks are dangerous, vindictive and brutal. Fear is certainly not being deliberately stoked by the very few people who’ve been attacked by sharks, many of whom, despite losing limbs, have become outspoken advocates for shark conservation.

“As a kid, I saw Jaws, and I wasn’t particularly scared of it,” says Graham. “I was just asking why? Why do people think that they’re so scary? How are they different from a dolphin? They’re both predators. Why did the sharks get a bad rep and dolphins got to have Flipper?”

These majestic animals are doing much worse worldwide than they were back in 1975 when Jaws was released. They need all the positive publicity they can get. New stories need to be told about sharks – the big ones and small ones, the ones that walk and glow, and all the other things they can be.

[skivvysupreme]

panic, for the one word prompt thing? please and thank you!

because the Uncharted AU was so fun, LET’S DO MORE VIDEOGAMES! 

if you’re not familiar with The Last of Us, it’s a zombie apocalypse by way of grotesque fungal pandemic - a horror show, basically

(one word prompt thingy)

The Clickers are coming. 

Blaine can hear them loud and clear, the sounds creaking from their throats somewhere between a rusty car door and some feral vermin. This is how they see, and why this particular type of Infected is so named - like the foulest bats, the most disgusting dolphins, they clickclickclick-screech-sqwAAAWWWK until they find their prey. The Clickers are blind and deformed because they have been infected for so long that the Cordyceps fungus has split their heads open, sprouting through their skulls to form huge fungal plates where their faces should be. 

And like all organisms who have to adapt to the loss of one sense, their developments in the others are acute. They are fast, and they are strong, and they can hear everything.

Blaine, pinned down and alone in this rotted hotel corridor after being separated from Kurt, who he has not seen or heard from in an hour, can’t control his breathing. 

Blaine is immune to the fungus. He is the only person immune to the fungus, as a matter of fact, in the twenty years since the infection first decimated humanity. Someone had to be, at some point. He was born into this hell, and at seventeen years old, he is humanity’s best hope for survival. Whatever happened inside his body that stopped him from turning into an infected monster could save the world, as long as he and Kurt reach the lab. He is the vaccine.

However… immune or not, he is not invincible. If a Clicker catches him and rips his throat out, his immunity won’t save him. It won’t mean a damn thing. His life, arguably more important than most, will be rendered worthless if the Clickers find him now. This current fear is far more basic than that, though; with or without his mission, he is only seventeen years old and he does not want to die. 

The three Clickers shuffle closer. Blaine closes his mouth, trying to reduce the sounds he’s making, but it only makes him breathe faster, his shorter breaths through his nose still audible to his own ears. He’s afraid to hold his breath because he knows that he will give himself away as soon as he can breathe again. He covers his nose and mouth with one hand, his grip tightening around his hunting knife in case one of these monsters gets close enough and he has the opportunity to strike. 

Blaine spots movement and the tiniest bit of light at the end of the dark corridor. His relief catches him off-guard, and he almost gives himself away before he sucks in his gasp as quietly as he can behind his covered mouth. 

Kurt steps slowly, slowly, slowly down the hall, a bottle with a rag sticking out of it in one hand and his lighter in the other. He raises the lighter above his head as a signal to Blaine, and Blaine raises his hand with the knife in it in response. Whether Kurt’s motivations are rooted in their mission or their increasing affection for each other, they’ve both come to realize that Kurt will do whatever it takes, however crazy it may be, to protect his life, and Blaine would do the same. He knows what Kurt is about to do, and he knows what he’ll have to do if he has any hope of escaping this. 

Kurt looks directly in the center of the area where the Clickers are circling each other like disorderly sharks, his body language calm and focused. With one last glance at Blaine, he lights the rag and tosses the flaming bottle at the Clickers. The molotov cocktail explodes loudly when it hits the ground, fire quickly enveloping one Clicker on impact before it catches a second. The creatures screech and wail, flailing around before they fall. The smell is overwhelming. 

Blaine leaps directly towards the horrible scene, jumping over the two flaming bodies and narrowly avoid the third Clicker before he swings around and lodges his knife into its neck. It struggles, but this is one of the Clickers’ weak points; it screeches just as its monstrous cohorts did, then goes down, blood pooling around its head where it lays. 

He’s about to say something, maybe make a joke to keep himself from breaking down the way he’s been threatening to do all day, but Kurt holds up a hand and shakes his head frantically. Blaine knows what this means, and just as the understanding hits and dread overtakes him, he hears a chorus of telltale clicks and screeches from somewhere nearby. Somewhere far too close. 

Oh… oh, no. 

This old hotel is positively infested with the Infected. And now, following the carnage Kurt and Blaine just wreaked, the Infected know they’re here, too.

Again… they are coming. 

There’s no use trying to hide or sneak away now. Blaine grabs Kurt’s hand and runs.

[cthulhuofficial]

Joanne Talley, Occisor Morte, God Slayer, Vampire of San Jose, Commandant General of the Tonton Macoute, Fellowship of Judas

“…men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.” Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam A.H.H.

First death

Back before the end of things, Joanne had a boyfriend. She cannot remember his name, nor if her stomach had sunk when her ambulance pulled up to the wreckage of his car, gleaming chrome and red in the emergency lights. They had all taken to carrying handguns by that point, and she had hers in hand when she peered into the crush of the driver’s seat. Her boyfriend sat there, skull caved in and steaming blood pooling in the wound. His lips drew back in a snarl and he snapped his teeth at her, straining against the twisted metal that held him in place, tearing cloth and flesh alike. She had not hesitated to pull the trigger. Although she has changed in form, she has not changed in essence as much as she believes — the salt left behind after fire boils away seawater.

The man who killed her the first time had given her no true death – she would come to know the difference well – but it had felt like one. The bullet-chewed remains of her face, red, raw, oozing, and hideous to look upon, would serve to separate her forever from humanity. Yet she does not hold it against him. Back before the end of things, Joanne believed in the goodness of human nature, and in this way, she has also not changed.

But such an existence is a lonely one, and when the dead walk the earth, it is only human to long for your own resurrection. Joanne has never been a godly woman and her prayers are clumsy and unpracticed, yet fervent nonetheless. Until she meets Christopher Voorman. Joanne had never considered the course that the vampire now represented to her, yet why shouldn’t the paths for the dead be as varied as those for humans? The idea is a hook in her throat: not a return to humanity, but an ascendancy.

She believed she had lost everything, but Voorman makes her realize she is wrong; Joanne has one final thing to offer. She still believes that a new world is coming, even if she no longer has a place in it. She believes that a single soul is a small price to pay for it. Death howls for her and she does not hold back.

Second death

The gathered crowd stares at her corpse. Ximena stares at Joanne.

Even as the girl approaches the place where Joanne’s body lays on the bloody sand, Ximena gazes up at Joanne’s spirit standing over it. In this form, Joanne can feel the supernaturalness of the girl and her undead priests. The younger woman smiles beatifically at Joanne and slides the sacrificial blade beneath her ribs; she is nothing if not sincere. Another cut and she clutches Joanne’s heart in her fist. When she bites into it, the blood runs down her beautiful mouth and her people scream for her.

Joanne’s body is stripped of the remaining shreds of her armor and opened belly to neck by the warrior that killed her. With practiced ease, he flays her skin from her body and swings it over his shoulders, her blood still dripping onto the sand. A troubled expression drifts over Ximena’s face when Joanne’s spirit follows her body into the shallow grave. Joanne feels a command behind Ximena’s eyes, an order to descend to the underworld, and she nearly succumbs; it is dark and cool there, and she has been fighting for so long. But anger stoppers her exhaustion — anger at her mistakes, her weaknesses, her failures. Joanne remains.

Ximena holds her gaze a second longer, and then turns away, ordering that the sacrifice, uauantin in the strange Aztec tongue, be buried with her weapons and the grave filled. When the first shovelful of dirt falls on her body, everything goes dark.

Interlude

Most revenants are victims of violent crimes, their deaths occurring while they are in a state of rage. This Wrath is so intense that it transforms the soul, altering it to the point that it is no longer subject to the cycle of life and death. It does not leave the physical world after death but instead re-enters its physical body, rises from the grave, and sets out to avenge its demise.

But anger alone does not a revenant make, else the world would be full of them. However, the proximity of a vortex of spiritual power, as well as the blood, tears, and prayers of more than a dozen innocent sacrificed souls soaked into the soil of one’s grave… that may be enough to do it.

Ascendancy

Joanne’s eyes snap open like blades. She lays on her back in darkness. The first thing she notices is the pain, burning hot and deep. Then she feels the Wrath, icy and sharp. Buried alive? She fumbles in the loose soil pressed around her; it is wet, nearly mud. Another cold squeeze of rage pushes its way through the panic, and she remembers. Buried, yes.

Alive, no.

She feels her body healing itself — the gash in her side closing up, her shattered leg mending, the blow to her head knitting together. No human could do this.

And the power. Even crushed beneath the soil, she feels the growing power in her muscles — not only raw brute strength, but speed, dexterity, precision. No human could dream of this.

Something pulls at her. Someone. She knows Ximena is close. Her anger redoubles with a new sense of purpose: righteous vengeance. First on Ximena and her followers, and then on the hordes of undead until every last one was destroyed. The world would bleed under her noble wrath.

Joanne feels around her until her hands close on the leather grips of her swords, tossed carelessly into her grave as she was buried. Slowly, she inches upward through the bloody soil and breaks the embrace of the earth. A human stands nearby, his eyes and rifle trained on the second story of the nearest building, the same place where Joanne senses Ximena. He is dead before he notices her.

The kill is so easy; her sword slides through flesh and bone like a shark cutting through the water, and the top half of his body slides wetly to the earth as his legs fold. What a fool she had been for ever wishing for her old life, her unmutilated face, her useless honor.

She scales the stairs of the building. One of Ximena’s undead warriors guards the doorway, but she does not pause, bringing one of her swords down in an overhand chop that parts his right collarbone and cleaves through his ribs. His right side peels away and he joins the other bodies lying in the doorway.

The doorway clear, she enters the room to face Ximena. The girl holds a freshly bloodied knife. A large man wracked with pain quivers on a table, held down by two other humans. Joanne burns at the sight.

“My skin. Give it to meeeee.” She hisses through a lipless mouth.

The Between Time

Joanne dies again, and wakes again. Her companions remain at the pyramid complex, but she has a task to complete. The remaining members of Ximena’s army have a headstart on her, but that is not a problem when one does not have to eat, drink, or rest. Driven by wrathful instinct alone, she tracks each of them down over the next several days and destroys them.

Single-minded in pursuing her vengeance, it is not until after she slits open the final throat and watches the boy bleed out in the dirt beside his mother that she realizes she has not seen another undead in days. Had the Rosicrucians completed the ritual? She wonders briefly at her continued existence. In another life, she may have felt despair, but all that remains to her now is anger and the hatred that grows from it. There is more work to do. If she remains in this realm, there must be others.

For years, this quest consumes her. A few walkers remain, lucky creatures that somehow shook off the dismissing ritual. The rest are intelligent enough to go into hiding, and the dead can be far more creative at hiding than the living. Delving into dark places, it is inevitable that she encounters others like her — vampires, ghosts, phantoms, demons, even other revenants – and that is how she discovers the Fellowship of Judas and House Thanatos.

She respects neither the mewling apologetics of the Iscariots of the Fellowship nor the puerile pretentiousness of House Thanatos, but she understands the value of having someone at your back — all the better if that someone is as predictable as the typical honorable zealot and jumps at the sound of an authoritative voice. The Fellowship’s goals align with her own — destroying supernatural creatures seeking power over the mortal world — and that is the only thing of importance. She joins the Iscariots with all the pomp and ceremony beloved by vampires, and immediately recruits a group of like-minded undead to assist her in stamping out the last of the zombie population.

Membership also affords her reliable news of the human world, where she can no longer tread without inciting fear and loathing. The growing worship of gods like Gozer, Ereshkigal, and Zuul troubles her. The true origin of the zombie plague is unknown; watching these cults grow in power and prestige, she speculates that what had been apocalyptic in scale for humanity was merely the first sortie of some divine power with greater goals in mind.

It is through the Iscariots that she is introduced to Sensai Hiroshii.

Teacher and Student

The old man would not take no for an answer. Even through the dense fog, Joanne recognizes his rounded shoulders and slow gait. She had followed rumors of strange disappearances to the snowy moors of northern Scotland, and Sensai Hiroshii had followed her. She plunges her swords into the icy lake, washing the black viscera off the blades. Nearby on the shore lay the disemboweled corpse of what the humans called the hungry dead.

“My answer is unchanged,” she says as Hiroshii stumps up over the uneven ground. She can feel the fire reignite in her limbs, the familiar pain that only recedes while she is tracking her next quarry. She slides her swords into the crossed sheaths on her back and turns to leave.

She blinks, an old human habit she has not yet lost. Hiroshii is in front of her. She had never seen the old man move faster than a hobble. She moves to walk around him, and yet he is in front of her again, faster than even her heightened senses could track. Her temper flares and her swords sing as she draws the blades and brings them down on the old man’s neck.

She does not touch him. Instead, she feels a brief pressure, something she would have once called pain, and her right arm falls to the rocky ground next to her, her wakizashi clattering beside it. Hiroshii is several steps away, katana drawn and held lightly at his side.

The old man had first approached her weeks ago, asking her to join him as his student. “A war is coming,” he had told her. Coming? Joanne’s war was here and now. The agony of rage she suffered whenever she paused in her grim mission for even a moment made sure of that. Then, as now, it had driven her to refuse him.

She picks up the arm. Her undead powers of regeneration would restore it to her in a matter of hours, yet she is troubled. Never had she felt like such a child before a foe. She considers the man for a long moment. “I will train with you,” she says.

Hiroshii is a tireless instructor, and tireless is not a word to be tossed around lightly when it comes to undead. He puts her through exercise after exercise, stamping his cane on the ground and yelling, “You are the string, I am the needle!” When she lashes out at him, insisting that she is ready, he parries her blades or her fists almost lazily, retorting “You are a frog born in a well that would drown itself in the sea!” Weeks turn into months, and the old samurai tempers Joanne’s rage like a blacksmith tempers brittle iron into steel.

She learns to use not just her blades but her body as a weapon. She learns to sweep an opponent’s legs from underneath them, to counter an attack with an attack of her own, and even the exact angle and force needed to break an enemy’s neck. Hiroshii does not focus on the physical alone: he assigns her tome after tome of reading between her routines and her exercises, books about the death realms and the occult.

Then one day, instead of ordering her to her exercises, Hiroshii presents her with a traditional Japanese tanto, the kind popular among Samurai for close-quarters fighting as it could be used to penetrate body armor. It is a modern blade but one made by a master, perfectly balanced and shining like ice. Her old tanto had been left behind somewhere in Felicity, California – perhaps one of her former companions carried it or perhaps it was lost in the desert. She took the blade from his unliving hands and felt a spark of something that may have been gratitude. Hideous, malformed, for even gratitude could be tainted and twisted in one such as she, yet gratitude nonetheless at the prospect of further destruction. She sheathes the knife at her thigh, dead eyes gleaming. What is the hunter without her prey?

[theconservativebrief]

Since Steven Spielberg’s 1975 film Jaws first ushered in the era of the summer blockbuster 41 years ago, sharks have been among summer cinema’s favorite perennial villains. They rank right up there with the alien from Alien and Sadako from The Ring in terms of habitually recurring evil forces with a single-minded purpose: to destroy everything in their path.

There’s something so elemental and irresistible about the shark movie that over the course of the past few decades, it has become one of Hollywood’s most well-trodden paths to terror. The genre now spans a wide range of films, from classics like Jaws and Deep Blue Sea (yes, Deep Blue Sea is a classic) to serious indie projects like The Reef to sillier D-movie affairs like the Sharknado, Mega Shark, and Shark Attack franchises. And if you’re among its many fans, you know that the only thing that can cure shark movie fever is more shark movies.

A friendly shark chomp from The Last Shark (1981).

Lucky for you, there’s always another shark movie on the way. The genre’s newest man-eating — or in this case, Jason Statham-eating — entry swims into movie theaters this weekend, with the opening of the tongue-in-cheek mega-shark movie The Meg — just days before the sixth and final installment in the Sharknado franchise arrives with Sharknado 6: It’s About Time.

The poster for Shark Exorcist (2015), in which a Satan-worshiping nun summons a demon to inhabit the body of a great white.

But why sharks? Ordinarily, the prospect of watching Statham try to survive an oceanic disaster scenario would be only a so-so draw for moviegoers. But if you throw in a battle to the death against a giant megalodon — the huge prehistoric shark which has, in recent years, outsized the great white shark in terms of appeal — then obviously, we’re hooked.

In real life, sharks are mainly non-aggressive creatures who barely resemble the evil killing machines they morph into onscreen. They’re anything but an unstoppable force — humans kill a staggering 100 million sharks each year, or 11,000 sharks every single hour, a jaw-dropping statistic that mainly results from the high demand for shark fin soup in some parts of the world. You’re statistically more likely to die from a lightning strike or a toppling vending machine than from a shark attack.

So why are we so fascinated by shark movies, even though they barely represent reality and their plots tend to be incredibly repetitive?

Oh, there are so many reasons.

This scene from Shark Attack 3: Megalodon (2002) has become an internet-meme mainstay.

You may believe sharks are limited to the sea, but you are wrong.

Thanks to the magic of cinema and the relative ease with which a shark fin can be CGI’d to pop out of something and move ominously toward the viewer, we don’t just have sea sharks. We also have sand sharks. Avalanche sharks. Sharks in a sharknado! Sharks in a sharkcano. (That one really happened.) Sharks in a blizzardnado! Sharks on land! Sharks in shark lake. Sharks in swamps. Sharks in the bayou. Sharks in apartments! Sharks at Sea World! Sharks on the Jersey Shore. Sharks at the Golden Gate Bridge! Sharks at the supermarket! Sharks in Japan. Sharks in bathtubs and puddles. Even sharks in the sky.

Just your routine apartment shark, as seen in My Super-Ex Girlfriend (2006).

Megalodon takes out the Golden Gate Bridge in Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus (2009). A shark takes to the skies in Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus.

Much like the 2006 Samuel L. Jackson film Snakes on a Plane relied on the surprise factor of slithering reptiles wreaking havoc at 30,000 feet, a crucial component of shark movies is sharks’ seemingly inherent knack for appearing where and when you least expect them: Just where are the sharks going to be lurking today?

Spoiler alert: They are everywhere.

If you don’t think your average shark is a super genius hell-bent on avenging the atrocities perpetuated against its species by the human race, you’ve never watched Jaws 3-D (mama shark seeks revenge against SeaWorld for killing her baby), Jaws 4: The Revenge (shark seeks revenge against Lorraine Gary’s character Ellen Brody, ostensibly for killing its shark family but more broadly for the sad and rapid demise of the entire Jaws franchise), Mega Shark Versus Crocosaurus (shark seeks revenge on Jaleel White for Jaleel White’s entire acting career), or Deep Blue Sea (shark seeks revenge against scientists for experimenting on it).

To wit: Please enjoy the following GIF from Deep Blue Sea, in which a shark holds a stretcher-bound Stellan Skarsgård captive underwater so that it can throw him against an underwater window in order to spite his grieving girlfriend:

Deep Blue Sea (1999). Yep. That happened.

I mean, come on, who among us hasn’t wanted to throw Stellan Skarsgård against a window? Bring on the shark uprising!

The shark can do what no other villainous horror movie creature really can: In addition to engaging in epic bite-offs against other creatures, it can combine with those other creatures to create animalia supervillains. Sure, Hollywood will invent a demonic vampire here and there, but you can’t really give a demonic vampire tentacles. That’s simply not the case with a shark. In the world of shark movies, if you create an undead demon sharktopus, that’s just the first act.

Would you like your shark with one head or two? How about three? Would you like an actual prehistoric mega shark? How about a giant robot shark?

Spidey-shark concept illustration by Calene Luczo

Few, if any, animals have enjoyed such creative big-screen depictions as the noble shark. There are demonic sharks! Sharks with tentacles! Zombie sharks! This shark-horse! Ghost sharks! A shark that walks on land! And coming later in 2017, there will be flying sharks controlled by Nazi zombies!

In other words, if part of the fun of any shark movie is rooted in the nervous anticipation of where and when a dangerous shark might appear, a significant number of shark movies up the ante by combining their shark threats with other things. Not only does this approach allow the sharks to travel farther and kill harder, it ensures an endless supply of shark movies, because Hollywood will never run out of shark-based combination hazards. Killer koala shark from Down Under? Done.

Shark movies can be as minimalist or as full-scale as you want or need them to be.

As Blake Lively illustrated in 2016’s The Shallows, shark movies can be a one-woman-versus-one-shark show where the shark is a threatening but largely implied presence. They can involve just two people facing off against a small but deadly herd of sharks (47 Meters Down, Open Water), a tiny ensemble of stranded swimmers trying to avoid getting picked off one by one (The Reef), or a full-scale cast with big-budget shark action like Shark Night 3-D or Dark Tide.

The giant shark from last year’s The Shallows wasn’t even huge by shark movie comparisons. Javier Zarracina

And one of the best things about shark films, regardless of their scope, is that shark size has no correlation to shark excellence — as anyone who actually saw Shark Night 3-D or Dark Tide can attest. The bigger shark doesn’t always have the better bite. In fact, films like Open Water and The Reef can succeed without showing any sharks at all. Believing they’re there is all that matters.

On the other end of the spectrum, the first appearance of a shark — it’s always bigger than you were expecting, no matter the film — never gets old:

Jaws (1975).

This is a pretty obvious reason, but it remains the most compelling of all. Stories pitting man against the terrors of the deep have always been a mainstay of human folklore, from the biblical fable of Jonah and the whale to nautical tales of the great kraken, from Moby Dick to The Old Man and the Sea to Lovecraft’s tentacle monster Cthulhu to Disney’s Pinocchio.

Super Shark (2011).

Each of these narratives involves great sea creatures that provide opportunities for heroes to face their fears, come to terms with their humanity, and, you know, be manly men who fish and hunt and conquer the wilderness.

But as formidable opponents, many of these sea creatures lack a significant, shall we say, bite. Giant squid generally stay too far below the surface to really pose a viable threat to humans. Even a big swordfish is no match for a skilled modern fisherman — and the swordfish wouldn’t want to eat you anyway. As for whales, the bigger they are, the more peaceful and harmless they seem to be. Even the ones with teeth are passive and don’t really want to hurt you (unless they’ve been subjected to lifelong animal cruelty).

Sharks, by contrast, are big. They have teeth — sometimes really big, really sharp teeth! They come into the shallow parts of the ocean where humans like to swim and play. Because they are drawn to loud noises and activity in the water, it’s possible, if not probable, that they could be lurking in the water where your loved ones are splashing around. They’re durable and intimidating, and even though in real life sharks are almost never aggressive toward humans, the biggest ones have the power and the potential to chomp you in two.

The Last Shark.

In sum: Like all man-versus-nature tropes, man-versus-shark movies — and man-versus-sharks-versus-other-creatures movies — can reveal important truths about human nature and serve as fascinating, in-depth character studies. Unlike most other man-versus-nature tropes, they do it with a side of terrifying, razor-sharp teeth.

Sharks combine mankind’s desire to conquer nature with its fear of and fascination with the mysteries of the ocean. Even in this modern age, when we’ve been able to plumb the depths of the seas, we still know surprisingly little about sharks. Jaws’ famous description of a shark’s “cold, dead eyes, like a doll’s eyes” in the film’s USS Indianapolis monologue (which was based on the real sinking of a US World War II Navy ship and subsequent shark attacks on its sailors) is still a testament to how unknowable they are.

In essence, in fiction if not in real life, sharks are the perfect scary force of nature: an ever-present threat waiting to happen, in a deep blue setting that humans are still learning to navigate.

But when all is said and done? As with all great horror movie villains, ultimately we’re always rooting for the shark.

Original Source -> Why we love shark movies

via The Conservative Brief

[gykaqopok]

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