#according to her audio files

[sledge-in-space]

She's been waiting a long time for this.

(My absolute favorite commission from ImZeroAfterDark on Twitter!)

(Alternate facial expression for Deputy Hudson under the cut.)

Here's to hoping that posting this will give me motivation to finish the accompanying fic

[justiceamberheard]

I stand with Keke Palmer.

On Thursday, Keke Palmer filed a temporary restraining order against her former partner Darius Jackson and requested sole custody of their 8-month-old son, Leodis. The filing, viewed by People, is rife with accusations against Jackson. Palmer alleges that on Sunday, “Darius trespassed into my home without my knowledge or consent, threatened me, then physically attacked me—lunging for my neck, striking me, throwing me over the couch, and stealing my phone when I told him I was going to call the police.”  The incident began when Jackson, a former college football player and current fitness instructor, came over to take their child to a football game, but discovered the baby was with Palmer’s sister visiting family. They argued, and Jackson allegedly “knocked me backwards over the couch, stole my phone out of my hands, and then ran out of the house.” This, the filing states, was captured on Palmer’s home security system and will be played in court during a hearing. When Palmer went outside to get the phone Jackson “nearly hit me with his car.” The Los Angeles County judge granted a temporary restraining order, which says that Jackson must stay 100 yards away from both the actress and their son. She was also granted temporary sole custody, according to People.

In a response her ex boyfriend leaked an audio where Keke admits hitting him back, now he is trying to use DARVO and paint her the abuser. Sounds familiar, right?

[laurentidal]

Monitored Activity

The email had come from IT right at the beginning of the workday with the subject line "Attn HR. Problematic Monitored Activity."

Dear Miss Villanova, In accordance with company policy, we are writing to inform you that employee Joseph Ulish was found to be acting in violation of the company's internet usage policies during our last audit of online activity. We are attaching evidence for your review and action. Thank you, Martin Shore, IT Dept. Head

Lily gave a long sigh. It was the first time an employee had been caught looking at porn on company time, though it was certainly bound to happen eventually. She took a breath and gave herself a little hope. Who knows. Maybe it wasn't porn at all. Maybe Joe was on poker stars or he was shit talking the company on social media.

But as she opened the attached list of websites, she knew that those hopes were false ones.

Sixty-two websites were enumerated and organized by the date of first access. Accompanying the list was a breakdown of how many times each site had been visited and how long he had spent there. Lily whistled softly to her empty office. With these kind of numbers, it was a miracle Joe had gotten any work done. At the very least, he should be getting fired for theft of time.

She opened the first site and was shocked to see only text. Only a glance would tell you that it was almost certainly smut, but still. If he was going to try to get away with porn at work, text was certainly the most effective method for staying under the radar. And what exactly was "erotic mind control?" Out of curiosity, Lily found herself reading the whole way through the story. She wasn't too prudish to admit to herself that he might have been onto something here. Certainly not appropriate for work! But this was certainly… having an effect, shall we say. Perhaps there was some unidentified fetishes still hiding in that brain of hers.

Site number two was actual porn. Just straight up pornography videos. She closed it quickly, lingering just long enough to catch sight of a few choice body parts. She was human after all.

Sites three through eighteen were all social media pages once again dedicated to this mind control stuff. It seemed there were an impossible number of sub-genre's to this already incredibly niche thing. Lily was fascinated. The pages were stories and videos and audio notes. Most fascinating were the pages seemingly dedicated entirely to flashing gifs and spinning graphics. She found herself scrolling through them slower and slower.

She never noticed when her left hand had left her keyboard.

More porn. More smut. More porn. More spirals. More spirals. More spirals.

By the time Lily reached the fiftieth website, her pants were around her ankles. She didn't know how many times she'd brought herself to completion. Her eyes were glassy and unblinking. The words in the stories and the images and comics burned into her psyche. And oh. The spirals.

The spirals.

She wished she could stop and stare at each one forever. But she had a job to do. She had a list to complete. Link sixty-two opened to a website that Joseph had accessed just this morning before she'd arrived. The site was a full screen spiral. Black and white with streaks of red and blue that made it seem more real than reality. And in the middle there was a button that simply read "Submit?"

She clicked it immediately. The button disappeared, leaving her staring at the spiral alone. She had no more work to do. The list was complete. She could just stay like this forever.

The door to her office opened and Joseph entered, followed by Martin.

"I'm so happy you were the one who got to review my file, Miss Villanova," Joseph said. He snapped his fingers and Martin locked the office door and began to undress. "Martin here was the first to comb through my activities. He did just a good job cataloging everything, don't you think? He had to look so long and so close to compile that report. He was shooting his first load before he'd finished reading that first story, weren't you?"

"Yes, Master," Martin said dully as the pair approached.

"He tastes quite nice, Lily," Joseph said right in her ear as she helplessly masturbated to the spiral. "You'll see."

Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖

[ellephlox]

Strawberry Rhubarb

Summary: You get kidnapped by Fisk.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Warnings (please read this entire list before proceeding!): Violence, blood, forced nudity, physical assault, torture, feelings of inadequacy, torture with knife, strong profanity, burning, stabbing, concussion.

A/N: This is set sometime in S2 when Fisk doesn't know for certain that Matt is Daredevil, but he is suspicious of him and definitely doesn't like him.

Also, it's a bit long, so I skimmed it for mistakes, but that's it. I'm at the airport because I have to fly home for a family emergency and I'm too tired to bother reading through critically lol

Everything was pitch black, except for a thin band of light, directly in front of your eyes.

You squinted, thinking at first that it was light coming underneath the bedroom door; had you left the kitchen lights on? But it was too high up to be the floor. Your phone, then. Your phone must have lit up with a notification and you could just see the light underneath it.

And then you realized there was a cloth around your head. For one wild moment, you thought Matt had put his black mask on you, and that this was something intimate that he was initiating, but something about it didn't feel right. The cloth was wrapped too tightly, for one, and the slit of light that you could see suggested that it was ripped in the center, and Matt's mask had no tears in it. Vaguely you remembered walking into the post office to mail out a letter, and something hitting you hard in the back of the head, but everything else was blank.

A gruff voice spoke. "Is she awake, Hanson?"

"Vitals suggest she's conscious," a cool voice responded. "Should I proceed?"

"Yes. You got into her phone?"

"I had Underwood hack it within five minutes. Passcode has been disabled."

"Good. We'll send a warning to to him. From what I anticipate, he'll be willing to come here of his own accord."

Fisk. Dazedly, you placed the voice as Fisk, and the cooler voice as some unnamed assistant. Your heart lurched, thrumming so hard that you thought it might burst out from your ribcage. All rational thoughts had abandoned you; never had you and Matt discussed what to do if someone ever kidnapped you. Sure, you'd had conversations about self-defense and fighting techniques; there had been the random nights that Matt tried in vain to teach you had to send a proper roundhouse kick at an assailant. And of course you'd nagged him about what the plan was if he was to ever get kidnapped by someone he was trying to take down.

But this scenario? It had never even crossed your mind, and the panic of having no idea what to do was gnawing at you.

The person on your left, with the cooler voice — Hanson — stepped forward and ripped off the black mask that was wrapped around your head. You blinked at the blinding light, unable to see for a moment until your eyes adjusted.

Hanson, a wiry man with a receding hairline, was appraising you. He held your phone, and a thrill of fear flashed through you at what texts or photos might be incriminating on there. "Should I send a video, sir? Or would a phone call be more effective?" he asked.

"Underwood's search of Mr. Murdock's files suggest that he has no light perception, though we're still uncertain as to whether forged notes and doctor intervention could have fabricated those documents," Fisk said, his face twitching. "Send an audio message instead. A picture may be a worth a thousand words, but hearing, on the other hand... that's exponentially more powerful, is it not? To be on the safe side; we want to ensure that Mr. Murdock receives our message."

"Understood, sir."

You closed your eyes as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. If Fisk kidnapped you, did that mean he knew Matt was Daredevil? You tried futilely to think of a way that he could have found out, but came up with nothing. Matt had pissed Fisk off recently; he'd told you that things had gone sideways when they spoke together, and it ended with fists flying.

But he couldn't know Matt was Daredevil. You told yourself this over and over again in an attempt to calm yourself down. Besides, you didn't have hardly any texts with Matt that they could read, you realized — you had mercifully cleaned out your phone to get more storage just the other day. That also meant you'd saved your photos to a different drive and deleted them off your phone. Hope burgeoned in your chest.

Matt's identity isn't entirely doomed because I was stupid enough to get kidnapped.

"You may begin, Hanson," Fisk said, folding his hands together, and the same lightning strike of panic went to your core.

"Wait." Your mouth was dry from disuse. Playing dumb had to be the best course of action; at least, it was the only plan you could think of in your muddled state. "I can give you money, I swear, I have cash in my wallet — you can take my credit cards, I don't care, please just let me go." The end of your sentence finished with a sob, and you didn't need to act at all for that to come out naturally.

"If Murdock comes on your behalf, then we'll let you go," Hanson said flatly. "You'd better hope that your boyfriend truly cares about you."

"Boyfriend?" You drew in your eyebrows. "I swear, I know of Murdock — friend of a friend, invited a few of us over to his place once or twice — but I have nothing to do with him! If he's involved in something illegal — or, I don't know, something with you folks — I don't know about it, please believe me — just let me go—"

Fisk sat down on the chair in front of you, settling himself in slowly. His eyes bored a hole into your skull and you couldn't help but look down at his shoes. "You think I do things lightly, Miss L/N?"

"I don't know. I don't know who you are or what you do."

"I've always found that those who are methodical will always win. Funny, really, that Aesop could articulate such a fundamental principle with a puerile story. When I was a boy, I wanted the hare to win. I didn't think it was fair that the tortoise should enjoy victory when it was the hare who seemingly had the predisposition, the potential, the skillset to win. But I learned. I discovered, through my own folly and mistakes, that it is not the person with the most resources who gets to the top. It's the one who strategizes, the one who is thorough."

"I don't understand." You were shaking where you sat; you could feel the muscles in your hands jumping as tension stretched taut through you.

"Let me spell it out for you, Miss L/N. When I want to win, I take my time. And I took my time in getting to know you. I've seen your family, your yearbook photos, the first job you had. I've read your college recommendations and seen your SAT scores. I've spoken to your therapist and friends. I know the exact day that you began seeing Matthew Murdock and I have footage of all the dates you've ever been on with him. So, when I suggest that you do not try lying to me, I am recommending it for your own sake, lest you want to lose your tongue."

Never had you felt so cornered in your life. Fisk sat in front of you like the opposite of light at the end of the tunnel — he was a black hole, sucking every bit of hope from the room, and in that moment you were certain you would not leave this room alive, and a silent voice within you begged that at least it wouldn't be messy, for Matt's sake.

"Start recording," Fisk ordered, and Hanson picked up your phone. Dread coiled in your stomach as it rang. Based on where the sun was in the sky, you'd been gone for awhile and it was unlikely that Matt was already wondering where you were. He'd receive and listen to any audio file sent to his phone almost immediately.

The way Fisk's eyes settled, calm and snakelike, on you made your heart freeze. "Y/N, say hello to Mr. Murdock."

You said nothing. Obeying him, putting your voice onto that audio message, felt like a betrayal of sorts. Maybe it was just the headache speaking, from where you'd been knocked out, but it felt all kinds of wrong to open your mouth and follow through with Fisk's intentions.

"Hanson, encourage her to speak," he said.

Hanson did not hesitate. He took out a knife and pressed it to the tip of your thumb. "Speak, or your thumb will be a centimeter shorter."

"Hello, Mr. Murdock," you parroted back, despising yourself with every word and shivering at what Matt would say when he heard the audio file. At what he would think of you. You knew he wouldn't blame you for getting kidnapped, but still, you hated that now you were just another burden for him — another person to save.

"Give me the phone, Hanson," Fisk said. He took your phone (if you made it out of this mess, you would definitely be sanitizing it) and spoke slowly. "I hope that this is enough of an incentive for you to stand down. You see, this is what you brought upon yourself when you decided to bring Vanessa into this. It was a mistake to say her name." He ended the recording and handed the phone back to Hanson. "Send that to Murdock, please."

"Yes, sir."

Once Fisk waved Hanson off, you felt even more apprehensive. You wanted to meet his eyes — to show that you were unafraid, to prove that he was making a mistake in holding you captive — but that was so far from the truth that you didn't dare make eye contact.

"We'll release you in soon," Fisk said, standing up. "I understand that this isn't pleasant for you, and I regret that you must be the way for me to make a point to Murdock."

"You're going to let me go?" you said, stunned.

"This is a long-term game plan, Miss L/N. This isn't like a movie, where we take people and behead them. No, I consider our tactics more mature than that. I intend to keep you long enough to show Murdock what I'm capable of, and to demonstrate to him that he should never again utter Vanessa's name."

"He's a lawyer," you said, your voice shaking. "And a damn good one. You'll be deep in legal trouble, so—"

Fisk laughed. "Do you know where you are right now, Miss L/N?"

You glanced around the room for the first time. Barren, cement walls, no windows. "A... lair of some kind?"

"As I said before, we are not children, playing out some movie," Fisk said. "No, this is a prison. A prison that I am in control of, as Murdock discovered when he visited to inquire about one Mr. Castle. You can rest assured that the extent of my control goes far beyond the walls of this prison, and the courtrooms are not exempt." He took a step forward and placed his hand on your head. You closed your eyes, trembling, as his palm brushed your hair, as though curious to know what the texture was.

"I apologize, Miss L/N, that you have been caught in this war between your boyfriend and myself." And then, without any warning, he swung a fist so hard into your abdomen that you choked aloud, all of the breath gone from your chest. There was no reprieve before he swung again, and you tried to curl up but the restraints around you made it impossible; you could only heave for breath.

That was only the beginning.

Once Fisk left, you didn't see him for a long time. He had said that you would be released "soon", but you quickly learned that was a subjective term; at least a few days passed with no word of him. You tried to tell time from when you were given food — which was sparing and meagre. Though you were no longer tied to the chair you had woken up in, the room was small enough that you still felt suffocated, and you could do nothing but sit on the corner, back aching, and wait.

At first, it wasn't that bad, as far as kidnappings went (at least, in your imagination). You were hungry, and not nearly enough water was provided, but that was the worst of it, aside from the discomfort of sleeping on a wooden bench. Your bones felt as though they were bruised all over and you were sore from shivering; your shoulders especially were taut from pain of being clenched for so long in the cold. The hunger, while throbbing at first, subsided to a dull feeling that you could attempt to ignore, and the headache gave you something to think about, at least, during the empty hours in the room.

Every thump that you heard, every shout... you couldn't help but hope that it was Matt, there to rescue you. There was a small part of you that began to doubt that he'd be able to make his way to you, let alone find you, as another few hours passed without anything happening.

Or maybe he'd cut his losses and was going to leave you there.

No, don't be dumb. That was ridiculous. Matt loved you. You loved him.

Oh, but what if you're just temporary for him? He could always go back to Elektra. Besides, Elektra at least wouldn't be weak enough to get kidnapped, you thought derisively. It would frankly be justified if Matt went back to her. He deserved someone who could keep up with him.

Maybe it was the dehydration that made your thoughts spiral even more, or maybe it was the exhaustion, because you only convinced yourself further that he wasn't coming, and that he had elected to leave you there.

I'm annoying. I'm always waiting for him, I'm always clinging to him, I'm like a leech that won't go away. He's probably realized how nice it is to have a break from me.

Or maybe he's met another lawyer. Someone really smart, someone who got a 180 on her LSAT and gives him a run for his money.

Karen, maybe. He always liked Karen. She's courageous, and passionate, and literally a model, and so much better for him than I am.

You were so lost in your own self-loathing that you didn't hear Hanson enter and started so violently that you gasped aloud when he spoke.

"Y/N, we're beginning a new recording."

"What?"

"Mr. Fisk would like a new recording to be sent to Mr. Murdock. Say hello."

This time, you kept your jaw firmly shut. It wasn't even out of a refusal to obey Hanson, but more out of your own reluctance to say anything to Matt, because you detested the idea of being even more of a burden on him.

This time, Hanson didn't wait for you to cooperate. He took out his knife and expertly swiped it near your upper arm, so quickly that at first you thought he missed, until a fiery sting flared, followed by the trickle of something warm.

Yet you remained silent.

"I might suggest you speak, Y/N. The quicker you talk, the less pain there will be, and Mr. Murdock won't have to receive quite as lengthy of a recording."

Feeling inspired, you spat at his feet. Hanson was quick to react — he flipped the knife up so that the tip was pressing into the back of your ear. "Did you hear me? Say hello to him."

When you said nothing, he applied pressure to the knife, and it began to cut through your skin; you couldn't help but gasp out loud, panic beginning to set in as red drips started to flow down your neck.

He's going to take off my ear he's going to take off my ear he's going to take off my ear—

"Hello!" you cried out finally, wincing at the stinging residue left where the knife had been.

"Good." Hanson tucked the knife away. "It makes things easier, doesn't it?" His gaze lingered on you for a moment before switching back to the phone. "Mr. Murdock, I'm undressing your girlfriend now. Don't worry, we don't intend to violate her."

"What?" you demanded. "You're not undressing me!"

Hanson ignored you. He took his knife and ripped your shirt open, removing every bit of fabric from you — including undergarments — until you were shivering, goosebumps crawling up your flesh where you made contact with the cold wood of the chair. You tried to cover yourself to no avail; the cuffs made it nearly impossible to give yourself ample cover. With no other choice but to sit in the chair and wait for Hanson to leave, you closed your eyes as tears rose.

Do not cry in front of him. Distract yourself. Ask him a question, get him talking.

"Why undress me?" you asked finally. "What's your endgame here?"

"Mr. Fisk wants you to understand the power he holds," he said smoothly. "And he wants Mr. Murdock to stop interfering. A show of power, especially with humiliation, is apropos for that sort of message, isn't it?"

"Fuck you."

"That's not the kind of diplomacy we're looking for."

"I don't care. Fuck you and your stupid messages. You're torturing someone who's got nothing to do with any of your shit, and as far as I'm aware, Matt was only fulfilling a legal obligation to talk to Fisk. You're making a mistake."

"Was it his 'legal obligation' to mention Vanessa to Mr. Fisk? No? Then, I am sorry to say, we are justified in our actions." Hanson twirled the knife and drove it downwards, faster than the blink of an eye, into the top of your hand.

This time, you screamed. And it wasn't the only scream, either — when you glanced down, and saw the blade of the knife gouged straight through the top of your hand, staking your entire arm to the wooden chair, you screamed again, throat so raw that it felt as though it were tearing, because God, the pain, make it stop, there was no way that one little blade could make you feel as though you were being torn apart, atom-by-atom—

"Mr. Murdock, I hope you've made it to the end of this message, because Mr. Fisk has something he'd like to say to you," Hanson said, unconcernedly straightening his tie. "Never bring Vanessa into this again, ever. Good day."

He clicked the end button on your phone and typed a few buttons as he delivered the audio file.

And that was the last thing you saw. Your tunneling vision collapsed altogether and the wooziness of looking at the blood streaming down your fingers took your consciousness.

When you awoke next, everything was pitch black. The light that used to stream in from the hallway was gone. You couldn't see your hand, not that you particularly wanted to, but it felt hot and irritated, though the blood around it had clotted. That was the one good thing, you supposed, though you had a suspicious that the heat around it was not as good. But maybe heat was good. Like a fever — fevers meant that the cells were killing the bad cells, right? Perhaps the same principle applied to knives-in-hands.

Then again, you weren't sure how straight you were thinking at the moment.

Every so often Hanson would enter, leaving you squinting in the jarring yellow light that he brought with him. Best case scenario, he'd add a cut to your collection, taking the tip of a new knife he had to make you bleed. Worst case scenario he tried something new — choking you, grazing your foot with a lighter. Either way, you learned to be obedient, and whenever the recording started, you said hello to Matt, just as he wanted you to.

And then, as time blurred and warped into a funhouse kaleidoscope of nonsense, you were no longer in that room. You didn't even remember being taken out of it. One moment you were lying on the floor, trembling uncontrollably from the cold, and the next... you were being handled roughly, thrown down, and left alone. The roar of a vehicle beside you was loud enough that you opened your eyes.

Water. There was water near you. The Hudson? The wood beneath you was damp, like a dock.

And next to you, sitting silently, was your phone. Hands shaking, you reached out, wincing at the throb of pain and at the gaping dark wound where the knife had apparently been extracted from your hand.

It was your phone. You stared at it, unsure of what to do. Was this a test? Did Fisk leave you here as torture?

Or was this your chance to escape?

Which, at the moment, felt unlikely. Your legs weren't moving. You could hardly lift your head, for whatever reason, and you were so damn cold that it made you want to fall asleep where you were, no matter how damn uncomfortable the dock was.

Or... you could call Matt.

Matt. You wanted to cry at the thought of him. Why hadn't he come for you? He probably was tired of how needy you were, how incapable, how useless compared to Elektra. But you stared at the contacts in your phone, then at the various cuts on your body. There was no one else to call.

You clicked his name, unsure of whether he'd pick up, but on the very first ring his voice was there. It sounded like an ethereal tether, anchoring you back to a reality that you hadn't been to in days, not since before you had been kidnapped.

"Y/N?" Matt said, almost breathless.

God, you missed his voice. And being in his arms. Suddenly you wanted to sob, just at hearing him, because hearing him meant everything would be alright. Matt's voice was comfort, it was home.

"Y/N, are you there?" he said, this time more insistent.

Right. Answering him would be a good idea.

"Matt?" you said weakly, taken aback by the sound of your own voice. It sounded like someone had taken your voice box, air-fried it, left it in the desert, then thrown some shards of glass in for good measure.

"I'm here, I'm here, sweetie. Where are you? Are you okay? What can you see?"

"I..." Something was pulsing behind your eyes, and it was distracting. You closed them to alleviate the pressure. "I... what?"

"Sorry. One question at a time." Matt was speaking slower, now, and you were glad for it. "Are you hurt?"

"Mm. Probably. But I'll be okay." Worrying him seemed like the wrong thing to do. You'd be fine, of course you would be, because it would be embarrassing if you weren't fine. The thought of having to be rescued as well as being incapable of getting up and brushing off your knees was alarming.

"Y/N, I need you to look around and tell me what you see. I'm going to try to find you. Is that water I can hear in the back?"

"I'm... by the Hudson, I think." You tried lifting your head, but it sent electric bolts of pain down your neck. "Ow. I'm having a hard time looking."

"That's okay, sweetheart, you're doing great. What else can you see?"

"Streetlamps. Dock."

"Okay. Anything else?" There was rustling in the background of the call, then the telltale squeaking of Matt's apartment door. Was he headed to work? No, it was dark out, you reminded yourself. It was too late to go to work. He was headed for Josie's, maybe. Or to go see Elektra.

"Y/N, are you there? Don't fall asleep. Stay awake, listen to my voice."

You jolted upright, unaware that you'd been drifting. "Sorry. I'm here."

"The phone isn't picking up much of the audio, but I'm headed in your general direction. Keep talking to me, Y/N. I need you to stay awake."

"I'm not falling asleep," you protested.

Though sleep did sound really nice. You didn't even notice the cold anymore, and you were glad you were in the shadows of night, because if anyone found you, naked and laying there on the dock, you'd surely get arrested. Was it a felony to be naked in public? You couldn't remember.

And your hand, it hurt so much, it felt as though it were numb and on fire at the same time. You scratched at it, but it only made it throb more, and then you could feel the warm stickiness that suggested it was bleeding again, so you let it fall back down onto the wood and stared up at the few stars bright enough to penetrate the haze of New York City.

And then your eyes were shut, and you were reluctantly opening them as a sharp voice commanded something of you in the background.

"What?" you asked, trying to remember where you were. Right. The dock. Waiting for Matt, presumably. Was he coming? That didn't seem certain.

"Y/N, talk to me. You've got to stay awake. I think you've lost a lot of blood."

"Talk... 'bout what?"

"Tell me about the nearest building to you."

"Mm. Okay." You swung your gaze to the right. "Um, there's a bottle." And it was a big bottle. At first you weren't sure if you were hallucinating, but it was definitely there, and bottle-shaped. Art, you realized. A sculpture of some sort. "Big bottle. Big, big bottle."

"You're amazing, sweetheart. I know exactly where you are. I'll be there in five minutes, alright?" He didn't wait for your thoughts to drift. "Talk to me about your plans for Thanksgiving. You had plans for us, right?"

"Right." You struggled to think of Thanksgiving. It felt like eons ago that you'd been mapping out the holiday, like you were a different person entirely last you'd thought of it. "I want... homemade cranberry sauce. Not the jar stuff."

"Right. What's wrong with the jar stuff?"

You were exhausted; it was too tough of a question to answer coherently. You opted to ignore the question and moved on. "Mashed potatoes. With toppings."

"What kinds of toppings?"

"Um." Thinking was making your head hurt even more. "Butter? I don't know. Matt, it hurts." The admission slipped from your mouth before you could check it.

Stupid, you've got to keep him from worrying, he needs to think that you're alright, he can't know that it hurts.

"I know, I know it does, I'm going as fast as I can go," Matt said, and you assumed he must have been telling the truth — he sounded out of breath and his speech was punctuated with running footsteps.

It began to rain. It was a cold rain, the kind that felt as though it should be snow but the temperature wasn't quite low enough. It splattered across your skin and reminded you of the fact that you were naked. "Matt, I'm naked," you informed him, blinking as you looked down at your body. Blood was all over you; it was difficult to see where Hanson had targeted you. The burn on your foot was making itself known as it got wet in the rain, and you bit your tongue to keep from crying out.

But he didn't sound surprised. "I heard. In the audio file. I've got clothing for you."

Oh, yes. The audio files. How much of your kidnapping had Matt been privy to hear? You weren't sure if you wanted to know.

"What vegetable were you thinking?" he prompted.

Your eyes drifted open. "Well... that depends. What d'you want?"

"Whatever you want to have."

"Not fair," you objected, voice slurring slightly. It was annoying, trying to keep up with the conversation; you wanted nothing more than to sleep, even with the rain now pattering hard on your face. "I guess... peas are nice. Peas are Thanksgiving-y."

"I like peas. My dad used to make them all the time — he'd buy them frozen, heat the whole bag up at once, and melt butter in it. Then we'd keep it in the fridge for a week and it would be our sole source of a vegetable."

"Mm. Butter peas," you repeated. "I'll do that. What... what's your..." The word wouldn't come to your lips, and you paused for a few seconds. "Favorite pie?"

"Strawberry rhubarb," he said, but this time, the voice wasn't coming from the phone, but above you. Everything felt foggy, though, and for a moment all you could think was that there was a man above you, and that it had to be Hanson — Fisk must have wanted to take you back, and they were here to take you again, and please, you couldn't do this again—

"Hey, hey, it's me. It's me." The voice above you was Matt's, and his face came into focus as he kneeled next to you with a wavering smile. You drew in a breath, ignoring the stab of pain in your chest.

"Matt?"

"I've got you," he said, pulling you up into his arms. "I have you."

You couldn't help it; tears began to flow, because Matt's arms were so strong and safe, the exact thing you had longed for all that time in the cell. You could still feel your heart racing wildly and you tried to draw another breath to calm down.

Matt's head was tilted as he surveyed you. He must have left the apartment in a hurry, because he hadn't bothered to put on the red suit, or even the black outfit. He was still in his work pants, with an untucked collared button-down and a tie that was loose enough that it looked ready to fall off him. The only part of his ensemble that he'd put on was the black mask.

And, dammit, even lying in the rain naked and injured, you were still able to appreciate how good he looked.

"Okay." Matt's head was still tilted, and you realized he was appraising you. "Okay. We're going to be okay, sweetheart."

We. You felt a rush of affection for him, and reached outwards weakly with your uninjured hand. He took it, squeezing hard. "I'm here, Y/N." He took off a backpack that you hadn't noticed yet and helped you to sit up, slipping one of his larger tee shirts over your head as though you were a lifeless doll. You didn't mind the help; you wouldn't have had the energy to do it on your own.

He was exceedingly careful. His hands skated over the parts of your body that hurt the most, precisely aware of where he should and shouldn't touch in order to not aggravate the wounds. When it came time to putting on the pants, he practically lifted you up before putting your arm around his neck so that you wouldn't topple over as he pulled your pajama pants on you.

"Thanks," you murmured. "Sorry... sorry I'm useless."

He kissed your cheek gently, and then picked you up, carrying you away from the dock. "You're never useless. Never. I was..." He drew in a breath. "This past week has been hell. I tried to get into that prison dozens of times, but Fisk had it guarded so well that I couldn't — I'm sorry, sweetheart, I did everything I could — but it was a fortress. And the law couldn't help, the police couldn't help, because they've all been corrupted, and — well, I'll tell you when you're better."

You wiped roughly at your face with your good hand. "Can we go home? I'm... I'm scared he'll come back, that they'll try to take me again — I don't want to go back there. He knows I'm here, Matt, they dropped me off here, they know."

"We're going home," he promised, and then his face darkened. "If they ever even try to talk to you again, let alone touch you..." He broke off. "The point is, they won't. I will never let this happen again, do you hear me?" He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, a bit more roughly, as the anger broiling beneath the surface for Fisk crested slightly. "How are you feeling right now? Are you able to walk?"

"I'm fine." You shifted slightly. "I can walk." It was an ambitious offer, though. You were struggling to keep your head up and you weren't sure how long you could stay upright.

Matt exhaled. "I've already texted Claire. She's going to come to the apartment. You... you've been through a lot, sweetie. You've lost a lot of blood." He helped you to your feet, and you clutched at him, swaying uncertainly. It only took one step forward for you to yelp, as your burned foot seared in protest, and without another word Matt took you up in his arms.

"I'm fine," you insisted. "You don't have to carry me, really. I can walk."

Matt's face twisted. "No. You're... you're not in good shape, sweetheart. I can take it from here."

You didn't answer. His tone was more serious than you were anticipating, which suggested you'd underestimated your own injuries. The exhaustion that followed seemed to corroborate that. It was hard enough staying awake on the dock, but now, in the warmth of Matt's arms, and with the rhythmic jostling as he walked you away from the Hudson, it was enough to make the black start to descend on your vision again.

"Y/N, hey, stay awake. Don't fall asleep," Matt was saying, but as much as you wanted to listen to him, the heaviness won out, and you passed out, into a heavy blackness lined with the velvet curtains of dreamlessness.

Moments flickered in and out.

Claire's face. Determined, stoic, and at times, anxious. You wanted to say hello, or to say that you were fine, but your lips were lead and no sound emerged.

Then Foggy. Attempted smiles, cracked jokes that you couldn't hear or retain. Doughnuts, you noticed once, hazily drifting in and out.

Karen was there. Beautiful Karen, who you couldn't help but envy. Sitting beside you, reading beside you silently, glancing up at you.

And, of course, Matt's face. Constantly worried, constantly seeking out the sounds of your heart or wounds, fingers dancing over you to check for invisible damage. Sometimes he was sleeping in the chair next to you. Or he'd be pacing in the living room. Sometimes he had his work out with him, his fingers running over the braille keys as they popped up, but still his head was always slightly tilted towards you, keeping watch.

And then...

Hanson's voice.

You jolted upright, heart leaping into your chest as you glanced around wildly, certain that you'd see Hanson's polished shoes crossing the floor towards you.

"Shit, shit, sorry!" someone was saying, and you jarred your neck as you turned to face Foggy, who was guiltily setting down your phone. "I'm so sorry, Y/N!"

"Y/N?" Matt was next to you; how long had he been there? His face was anxious and he was holding your hand. "I'm sorry. Foggy and I were listening back through the audio files, trying to find clues as to where Hanson might be — if there's a chance we can go after him legally, Foggy thinks we should take it."

"He's... he's not here?" you said, uncertain, still feeling shaky from the adrenaline.

"No. No, he's not." Matt was looking at you sadly, his eyes almost locked onto your gaze but just a bit high on your forehead, and the near guise of eye contact made a rush of embarrassment flow through you.

"My bad," you said, struggling to sit up. "It just... took me by surprise, I guess, hearing his voice again."

"No one blames you," Foggy said automatically. "Jesus, slow down, Y/N — you nearly died of hypovolemia."

"Foggy's right." Matt settled onto the bed next to you. "Rest, stay laying down. You've been out for awhile."

"How long is awhile?"

"Awhile," was all he said.

"Did I... did I miss Thanksgiving?"

Matt's expression told you all that you needed to know. You groaned and flopped back onto your pillow, which was a mistake; your skull resounded with the impact and stars floated above you.

"You need to take it easy," Matt was saying, concern in his eyes. "You're not unbreakable, Y/N."

"Think I figured that out on my own," you muttered, shielding your eyes as the sun glinted off of the window. "Shit. I missed Thanksgiving."

"Not really," Foggy said. "We're postponing it. Homemade cranberry sauce and buttery peas will still be on."

His words tickled a faint memory in the back of your head, of lying in a dock and talking almost incoherently with Matt on the phone. "Aw. You two talked about... the plans? While I was out?"

"It was that or talk about the latest legal precedent issues that are making life hell for us at the office," Matt said, smiling. "But we would never do Thanksgiving without you." He rubbed his thumb gently against the top of your hand, avoiding the bandage where the skin was sensitive. You didn't even want to think about what that wound looked like.

"I'll have to run to the grocery store soon, then," you said. "And we have to buy a crock pot, Matt. And we need—"

"We need you to get better, first," he cut in. "Claire left some medication for you. You should take it now."

"I'm fine."

"Y/N."

"Matt, whenever I tell you to take your meds, you brush me off and say that you're fine." You tried to push yourself up onto your elbows. "I want to get ready, I want to get out of this bed — I feel like I've been out of commission for so long."

But Matt gently stopped you from getting up. "Sweetie, Foggy wasn't lying. You almost died. I need you to get better, okay? Rest, and heal. I'll be here."

"But—"

"Get some sleep," he whispered, and it wasn't really that unappealing an idea. You slowly lowered yourself back onto the pillow, this time avoiding the mistake of flopping backwards.

"Okay," you said finally, sleep already taking you. "But... I want to do two desserts, okay? One strawberry rhubarb."

"And the other?"

"Devil's food cake," you murmured, closing your eyes. "'Cause it'd be funny."

As you finally fell asleep, the last thing you heard was Matt's laugh.

[merrinla]

Lift the Shadow Curse. Cut content. Part I

It was supposed to be one post, but because of the audio limit, I had to split it into two. So this part will be mostly about the portal ritual and the next one will be about other details.

Some of the lines below are in the game, the rest are from the early access patch 8.

During the cycle of development, Halsin has gone through many changes. He was originally just another side npc in the camp, but the community adored him so much that he was promoted to a full companion. Previously his story was more related to the main plot and the Thorm family, but later it was retconned. In the full release Halsin's personal quest is to find and rescue his childhood friend, a fey boy, from the Shadowfell. This special child is the only one who can cure the land from the shadow curse. And according to some files, this quest was previously also different from what we see in the game.

Bones of Contention

Before starting the portal ritual, the player had to find three bones of contention. To do this, it was necessary to defeat three bosses - the Hospital boss, the Tollhouse boss and the Distillery boss.

As we know from the game, these are Malus Thorm, Gerringothe Thorm and Thisobald Thorm.

Ketheric's daughter, Isobel also took part in this quest. The player could give her the bones to research. Who else could help us with the secrets of the Thorm family better than one of them.

After that, you had to bring the bones to Halsin and he crushed them as it was necessary for the ritual.

In the release version this part was replaced with a quest Wake up Art Cullagh.

Thorm blood

There is a flag in the game with an interesting name that isn't used anywhere - "SCL_ShadowCurse_Knows_NeedsBloodOfThorm". Unfortunately, there is no detailed description. So I can only guess.

Most of the flags "SCL_ShadowCurse_..." are related to Halsin's quest. I doubt this one is an exception. If the Thorm bones were part of the portal ritual, then maybe the blood was too. And it's not necessary to kill someone for that. Well, depends on how much blood you need. If we needed a volunteer, then only Isobel comes to mind. According to another flag, the player could ask her about the blood. But again, there's no details.

Maybe the Thorm blood was needed to open the portal (reminds me of DMC3) or lift the curse. Maybe it was Ketheric's blood that was needed because he started it all. And he definitely wouldn't have shared it voluntarily, so it would have ended up in a boss fight. The same as it is in the game. Or something else.

The ritual

Unlike the release version, the player didn't defend the portal, but Halsin while he conducted the ritual. This prayer is longer and has different words. During the combat, his voice was louder and more intense.

The player could interfere with the portal

In the game Halsin repeatedly warns that only he should enter the portal and nobody else.

Now it's important that only I pass through the portal once it opens. The magic is fragile - any mistake, and our one chance will be lost forever.

If there's any interference with the portal, then our one chance is lost forever. And so am I.

Let's begin. Remember what I told you - we won't have a second chance here.

Let's begin. Whatever happens, do not attempt enter the portal, and do not let anything interfere with it.

Even if you want to enter the portal, it won’t work. The scene ends only after Halsin has used the portal himself.

But earlier the player could attempt to enter the portal before Halsin. And it would have collapsed it. Not to mention that this would make Halsin furious and after that he would leave the camp.

Halsin was returning from the Shadowfell through the Shar Temple

The description of one flag says that Halsin explains how to find him after he is entered the Shadowfell. Which means he was returning in a different way than in the game.

And according to some lines it was the Shar Temple.

Once I've entered, go to the Shar Temple and look for a sign of my spirit. I can't say for certain how it'll manifest. But you'll know it when you see it.

Hah. Once I've entered, you must seek the place where Shar is loved the most. Look for a temple dedicated to her. There will be little separating the realms of light and dark in such a place. Once you find it, look for a sign of my spirit. I can't say for certain how it will manifest, but you'll know it when you see it.

I don't know exactly how the player was supposed to find Halsin (Halsin didn't know that either). But it seems he must have seen you or something that he could see with your help. In the game, right before the ritual begins, Halsin says "You are the beacon that will guide me home." I guess we really are.

I see you! Hold on! The path home is becoming clear!

Nearly there! Just hold on a little longer!

And when did he finally succeed, there was no limit to his happiness.

It worked. Oakfather's mossy beard, it worked!

Better than alive, triumphant!

Oh, my friend. I think my embrace would break you in two, such is my gratitude. But as you can see, my hands are full... [with Thaniel]

After which, it seems he went with Thaniel not to the camp but to the Last Light Inn. Maybe because Isobel's magic protected this place from shadows.

But now, I can tend to him, and the recovery can begin. Find us at Last Light, and thank you. The sun will soon rise over these lands.

Promise

Another part of the portal ritual was the dagger Promise that Halsin gave to the player. And we could even ask him about this weapon.

I've heard the theory that the dagger could be a beacon for Halsin. But, alas, I couldn't find any more information other than a brief description.

A leafy pattern is carved into the dagger's blade. It glows faintly in the dark.

I wonder if this weapon has its own story as the glaive Sorrow.

The dagger is still in the game, but you can only add it to your inventory via the console.

-----

Well, this is too much for one side quest (3 bosses + Shar Temple), so I understand why they changed it. I don't think Halsin was a companion in this version yet. Otherwise, he would have joined the party only at the end of Act 2.

[cookiethebirdthing]

Extra Extra!

Our sources have just informed the Bunbunmaru Newspaper of something remarkable. At 2:00 PM yesterday, the Great Tengu, Megumu Iizunamaru, left a distressingly hilarious voicemail on an unnamed kuda-gitsune's answering machine. Following that, there were six more voicemails during that same night from Megumu. While we weren't able to confirm the audio file firsthand, we have reason to believe it to be a legitimate claim.

According to our sources, each voicemail consisted of at least 20 seconds of sobbing, broken up by despondent wails. The voicemails then each ended with Megumu begging to get back together with the kuda-gitsune. Four of the seven voicemails ended mid-sentence as the answering machine reached it's maximum length for recordings.

Also of note: our sources claim that Mugumu sounded "drunk off her ass" and that each voicemail was more slurred than the last. This would seem to indicate that she was heavily drinking for some time before and during these calls!

Our sources wish to remain anonymous at this time.

That's all for this extra! This has been the Honest and Trustworthy Aya Shameimaru, your favorite birdseed reporter. Thank you for subscribing to the Bunbunmaru Newspaper!

[asaka-lucy-dr-rc]

Oh! The Kizakura audio dramas! I always wanted to listen to Genocide Jack’s part of the audio but an English translation of it doesn’t exist sadly. Do you know what she said in audio drama? I love to know! Thank you!

Oh yeah! Genocide Jack's part was really great and I wanted to share the content of that part of the conversation, so I'm glad you asked! I've written a transcript below:

<After Kizakura visited Toko at her home and told her that he had come to recruit her as a student at Hope's Peak Academy, they talked for a while, but Kizakura fainted in the middle of the conversation because Toko's house and her own smell were too bad.>

Toko: ちょ、ちょっとぉ！そんな大袈裟に倒れて、埃が…っはっ…ハクシュッ！ W-why are you collapsing!? Collapsing so dramatically like that... the dust... huff... achoo!

Kizakura: えぇっ、手を叩いて褒めてくれるの！？俺、頑張ったよね！？もう、ゴールしても…いいよね… What!? You’re clapping your hands* to praise me!? I did a good job, didn’t I!? It’s okay if I... reach the goal now, right...?* (*The reason he made this comment is because the Japanese word for sneezing, “hakusyu”, sounds the same as the word for clapping hands.) (*This is a parody of a line from a famous game called Air. It is often used among otaku.) Genocide Jack: はぁーーい、パチパーチ！！ってなんでやねん！ヒャハハハハハハハ！ Allllllllll right, let’s give a round of applause!! Wait, what the hell!? Gyahahahahaha!

Kizakura: あぁー！？何何何、どうしちゃったのこの子！？ Huh!? What, what, what’s with her!? What’s going on!? Genocide Jack: ヤァだ、ヤァだー！なぁにそんな熱視線困るんですけどー！ってなぁに！？この子ったら！？部屋に男連れ込んじゃってんのヒュゥーウ！！ Oh my, oh my! What's with those intense stares, I'm embarrassed by your intense gaze! Wait, what’s this!? This girl’s got a guy in her room! Wheeew!! Kizakura: (演技…じゃないな。二重人��か？ただのはっちゃけ姉ちゃんにしか見えねーけど…こいつは何かヤバイぞ…。) (This isn't just an act... Is this a split personality? All I see is an endless amount of cheerful girl... but she looks like danger.) Genocide Jack: でも残念！あんたちょ〜っとストライク逃しちゃってるわ！ファウルボールにご注意くださーい。ってデァハハハハ！！で、どこのどなた？ But too bad! You just barely struck out! Watch out for foul balls! Gya-hahahaha!! So, who are you? Kizakura: (記憶を共有していない…解離性人格障害か。考えられる原因としては、資料にあった母を2人持つという家庭事情だが…) 俺は黄桜公一。希望ヶ峰学園から腐川冬子くんをスカウトにやってきた。君こそ何者だ？ (She doesn't seem to be sharing memories... Dissociative Identity Disorder, huh? According to the files, it could be due to her upbringing with two mothers...) I’m Koichi Kizakura. I’m here to scout Toko Fukawa from Hope’s Peak Academy. And you are? Genocide Jack: うーーん、かっちょよく名乗りたいところだけどぉ、アタシってホラ、有名人だから！ナイショにしとくわぁ！ Hmmmmm, I’d love to introduce myself in style, but, you know, I’m kind of famous! So I’ll keep it a secret for now!

Kizakura: 有名人？ Famous? Genocide Jack: その希望ヶ峰学園ってお上品な学校に行けばアタシ好みの萌える男子がオーガニックに栽培されてそうジャ〜ン？ もしかしてぇ？あなたは意中の殿方もぉー？いらっしゃるのかしらァーー！？妄想が捗るわぁー！！ If I go to that fancy Hope's Peak Academy, I bet there'll be a lot of hot boys growing up organically just for me, don't you think? Or maybe...? Do you have a guy you're head over heels for? My imagination is running wiiiild!

Kizakura: 意中の殿方って……あぁやべやべ、思い浮かべるな！ A guy I’m head over heels for... Oh no, stop thinking about it! Genocide Jack: いいわ！その一瞬の油断！ふと脳裏をよぎった親友の面影！そ・れ・が！どんどん大きくなっていくからお大事にねェー！！ Perfect! That momentary slip! The fleeting image of your dear friend flashing in your mind! That, my dear, will only grow bigger and bigger, so take careee!

Kizakura: 趣味嗜好がまるっきり正反対だな…腐川ちゃんの方はオーソドックスなラブコメすら嫌がってたのに、こっちはBLまで許容しているみたいだ… Their tastes are completely opposite... Fukawa-chan couldn’t even stand orthodox rom-coms, but this one seems fine with BL...

Genocide Jack: ハァーイ、大正解！アタシはぁ、パトスだだ漏れの貴腐人なので！調子いい時はぁ、視界に入った男をビンゴ方式でゼェーんぶ絡める！ウァハハハハ！ハ…ハ、ハクシュッ！ Ding, ding, ding! Correct! I’m a kifujin* overflowing with pathos! And when I’m in a good mood, I’ll ship every guy in my sight like I’m playing bingo! Gyahahahaha! H- H- achoo! (* This is one of the ways that otaku girls who like BL refer to themselves, and refers to people who like BL even more than fujoshi.)

Toko: へ、あ、あれ…あたし…？ Huh? W-wait... what was I...? Kizakura: (くしゃみで人格チェンジするって、そんな古典的な…。この子、自分を主役にして小説書いた方が売れるんじゃないの…？) (She changes personalities with a sneeze? That’s so old-school... She could probably sell more novels if she wrote about herself as the main character...)

Toko: き、記憶が飛んでる…！あ、あなたまさか、私を眠らせて、無理やり！？ M-my memory’s blank...! D-Did you force me to sleep and then...!? Kizakura: 永遠の眠りにつきそうなのは、こっちの方なんだけど… I’m the one who feels like I’m about to sleep forever...

Toko: な、何よ、殺人鬼に遭遇したヒョロイ殺され役みたいなシケた顔して…！ What’s with that pathetic look on your face, like you’re the weakling about to get killed by a murderer!? Kizakura: (殺人鬼…そういえばあの殺気…。いや、まさかな。) (Murderer...? Now that I think about it, that killing intent... No, it couldn’t be...)

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

Toko's part is much longer, but this is the whole part where Genocide Jack appears. If you listen to the audio, you'll see that Miyuki Sawashiro's performance is really wonderful, but I hope it conveys at least a little of what it was like!

[katisinfactthebestofbois]

*breathes heavy*

I—

I did a silly, my good fellow Kevin `Spencer enjoyers. I did a small, what they’re called,,,,,,, ‘animatic’. It’s silly, it depicts how I see Shawna’s and Timmy’s relationship as a whole, I do not think they can function very well when placed in the same room. Also, I imagined this to take place before Season 6, Episode 2, hence why Shawna doesn’t have the filed down shark teeth.

(The original audio was taken from peternugget on TikTok!!!)

*if you don’t wanna read my ramblings, or the sources to why I feel this way, don’t continue reading after the “Keep Reading” mark!*

*Pulls out the Kebible*

AHEM….

According to Season 5, Episode 5…. We could infer Timmy doesn’t have much regard for Shawna with the way he jokes about her and himself. Based on Season 4, Episode 2, Timmy seems to reject Shawna’s gesture of a kiss by holding his right hand toward her, that is until Percy barges in. Based on Season 6, Episode 10, Shawna states she ran away into the woods, which quite well shows she herself doesn’t care much for abandoning Timmy(if they are even considered to be still ‘together’). In short, they both do not seem to care much for each other, hence why I see them most likely getting into arguments or just not completely getting along, it’s okay though, I still find this relationship dynamic amusing and quite interesting.

[lulu2992]

Who is the voice of the female Deputy?

When I saw this question, I decided to try to find an answer.

I looked up all the actors listed in the credits, listened to their voices (in interviews, demo reels, or other videos), and… I’m still not sure who played the female Deputy.

While I usually find it relatively easy to recognize voice actors in French, my native language, it turns out that’s much harder for me to do in English. Also, it doesn’t help that they’re usually very good at changing their voice/accent and that, in real life, most of them don’t sound like the characters they play.

I still believe the person who played the female Deputy is also “Cult Follower Female 5” (CFF5), but it seems to me the actor used a different accent and tone so the cultist sounds a bit “villainous”. In any case, I didn’t find anyone that sounded exactly like the two characters…

According to my ears, though, the female Deputy and the female Captain from New Dawn have the same voice. Outside of cutscenes, the Deputy has 314 lines in Far Cry 5 (which you can listen to here, here, here, here, and here) and the audio files were all reused for the Captain. In cutscenes, so the “lines” that were specifically recorded for New Dawn, the character sounds exactly the same to me, which means the voice actor must have worked on both games.

I looked at the names that appeared in the credits of the two games and narrowed the list down to the 15 (+1; see below) likeliest candidates, so here are the people who, in my opinion, could potentially be the voice of the female Deputy, as well as, when the information was available, either in the game or on IMDb, which character(s) they played:

Claire Armstrong

Kailea Banka

Carolina Bartczak (Cult Follower in FC5; apparently not in FCND, but you never know)

Kimberly D. Brooks (Gun for Hire)

Nicki Burke (Cult Follower in FC5, Selene in FCND)

Lucinda Davis

Stacey DePass (Nana in FCND)

Amber Goldfarb (voice of Faith’s Priestesses, “Cult Follower Female 3”, and, I believe, Rae-Rae)*

Julianne Jain

Mara Junot (Sherri Woodhouse, “Civilian Female 6”)

Helen King

Erica Linbeck (voice of Anne, but also this and this)

Cynthia Kaye McWilliams (Resistance Soldier)

Debra Wilson

Kim Yarborough

Mayko Nguyen, who plays Kim Rye, was credited a second time as a “voice talent” in Far Cry 5, which implies she may have also played one of several NPC. Since she worked on New Dawn, she too could be the female Deputy’s voice.

Again, English isn’t my first language, and after spending two days listening to all those voices, everyone started to sound the same to me :’) If you’re a native English speaker and/or have a great ear, though, maybe you’ll be able to more easily solve the mystery! We can do it!

*IMDb says Amber Goldfarb played “Noodle’s owner” (the woman who called Ms. Mable for her pet snake) but the files tell me the voice is actually “Civilian Female 6”, so Mara Junot.

And under the cut, just in case, I included all the other female voices who appear in the credits.

FAR CRY 5

MAIN CAST Beryl Bain (Tracey Lader) Sarah Booth (Tammy Barnes and, according to IMDb, a “Civilian”) Luisa D’Oliveira (Deputy Joey Hudson) Jenessa Grant (Faith Seed) Debra McGrath (Nancy) Tasya Teles (Mary May Fairgrave)

VOICE TALENTS Carolina Bartczak (Cult Follower) Lauren Jackson (Skylar Kohrs) Erin Mathews Julie Nathanson (Jess Black) Kristen Peace Murry Peeters (Grace Armstrong) Claire Rankin Cara Ricketts (Dr. Sarah Perkins in FC5, Mickey in FCND) Charlotte Rogers Paula Shaw (Ms. Wilhelmina Mable) Jane Wheeler (Adelaide Drubman)

PERFORMERS (I’m not sure they recorded voices and they apparently didn’t work on FCND) Michela Cannon Roanna Cochrane (Cult Follower) Athena Karkanis Karen Knox Janet Porter Melissa Robertson Alyssa Trask Brandi Marie Ward

FAR CRY NEW DAWN

MAIN CAST Reina Hardesty (Carmina Rye) Leslie Miller (Lou)

VOICE TALENTS Rylee Alazraqui Mary Faber (in the “Additional Thanks” section in the FC5 credits and in Lost on Mars according to IMDb) Camryn Jones Rachel Kimsey Melanie Minichino (Gina Guerra) Carolyn Ratteray Marisha Ray Nadia Verrucci

PERFORMANCE CAPTURE PERFORMERS (again, I don’t know if they recorded voices in FCND) Ava Augustin Tamara Brown Jenny Raven Ajanae Stephenson Lydia Zadel (also credited in the “Additional Thanks” section in FC5 and a voice in Lost on Mars according to IMDb)

Good luck!

[horizontwinflames]

Horizon AU: Twin Flames - Gameplay (?)

I'm not just an aspiring character concept artist but also a game designer (I even have my own original project going on the background). So, when writing fan stories of game series, I will always have in mind the gameplay when coming up with ideas.

With that said, let's go to the ideas I had so far for this AU:

Aloy and Beta are the main characters in this story, so the gameplay revolves around their teamwork. Both are simultaneously playable characters where you can dynamically switch the control, increasing even more tactical thinking during gameplay.

Simple commands can be given to the other sister, such as "stay here," "use X weapon," etc. This wouldn't extend to NPCs, except Isaac.

Multiplayer could be possible, so one person would play as Aloy and the other as Beta.

The sisters have combo techniques they can use when the conditions for one are met. Depending on the combo, it's either via a quicktime event or a command.

As stated in other posts, on ZD, Aloy uses the Warrior, Hunter, and Survivor skill trees, while Beta uses Infiltrator, Trapper, and Machine Master.

The skill trees are simpler on ZD and more complex on FW, like in canon.

Even with the separated skill trees, the other will gain 50% of the effects from passive skills. But weapons, weapon skills, and valor surges (FW) are exclusive to the skill tree owner. The only weapon they have in common is the spear (on ZD).

Aloy can parry and defend, and Beta has more fancy dodges. Shield skills are in the survivor tree, and the dodge skills are in the trapper tree.

On FW, Aloy and Beta share the Warrior and Machine Master trees. Beta gets a new tree called "Acrobatics," which focuses on her mobility, while Aloy's gets a new skill tree called "Brawler," which focuses on her fist fight.

On FW, Aloy gets a new melee weapon; special hands and legs equipment for melee combat (name to be given yet). Its upgrades are on the Brawler skill tree.

On FW, Beta gets a new melee weapon; double blades of Zenith tech, which changes length according to the target's size. Its upgrades are on the Acrobatics skill tree.

The melee weapons on FW are separated on R1 and R2, and the skills change via button combo + directional (like in hack n slash games)

Gliding, diving, and pullcaster are FW only, like in canon.

They can double jump with the final armors Gaia's Wrath (Aloy) and Gaia's Judgment (Beta) (Shield Weaver in canon, obtained via story progression, near the end of ZD story, on FW is unlocked by default).

They will be "out of battle" when HP reaches zero, but there's a "downed hp" to give a window to recovery. If they suffer big damage while in this state is game over.

"Swarm Override,"; the sisters can override a group of machines together, but the more and bigger the machines, the longer will be the conversion and cooldown times.

Aloy and Beta can still individually override machines. Aloy's override is the light blue from canon, and Beta's is of a pinkish-red color. Which makes the swarm override a purple color.

Isaac is an upgradable mount. He gets his upgrades via the Cauldrons quests and story progression. The canon mounts are available, but their override is temporary, like with the other machines.

Isaac can wear outfits and change his ranged and melee weapons, which directly impacts mounted combat.

Isaac gets his exclusive skill tree on FW.

Isaac also works as the sisters' stash, which can be accessed anytime except during a fight. Aloy and Beta have their own separated inventories with a slightly smaller size than canon.

While riding Isaac, a function like a workbench can be used to craft ammo and traps and to check outfit, weapons, and pouches upgrades (those are only upgradable at workbenches).

While riding Isaac, he has an audio device to reproduce audio files from the Old World; you would be able to open your Spotify app on the PlayStation, and the music you picked would be played from Isaac in-game (I don't remember which game you could do that, I think it was a GTA or Need for Speed).

Isaac can swim and dive (with the correct gear). He gets an upgrade to fly on FW only.

That's all for now!

[Part 2]

Inspirations: Devil May Cry 5, God of War 4, God of War Ragnarok, Guild Wars 2, Final Fantasy XV/VII Remake.

Constructive criticism is welcome, and feel free to share/suggest new ideas too :D

[rappaccini]

... ok i guess a great earth-65 constant is that the timeline's fucked when compared to other universes. because when the hell does movie-gwen's dimension take place. what year and what time of year. does the movie even know.

because it looks like either gwen's universe was FULLY retconned to take place in a version of 1998-2001 with 2010s-era technology or they genuinely have no clue what time it's in or how long she's been gone.

gwen has a smartphone (despite her photo of miles being retconned between movies from a phone selfie to a polaroid, there are still smartphones and laptops in her dimension-- and the clunky 90s tv and computer in her apartment), knows what social media is, dresses like a zoomer, and never mentions that miles's dimension is in the future compared to hers, yet it's 1998 according to this police file.

the file's of gwen's vulture from 65b, not the renaissance one, so it might be of the vulture in general instead of this particular incident at the guggenheim (oh hey he's canonically killed at least one person: check under his photo and the sex of the person the file's on; it's from the med examiner, and the victim is an 87yo female middle school secretary). but if the file's old then it can't be by more than a few years, because vulture's one of gwen's first villains, and she's been active for ~3.5 years. so at the latest, if the file's any indication, it's 2001. which could make sense given that gwen's from peter's generation, not miles's, and peter's got about 10 (ripeter) or 20 (peter b) years on him. so gwen being from an alternate past compared to miles's present would make a lot of sense.

also even though the plot picks up on 1610b in may and gwen's been in the society for about five months, it's somehow also may when she runs away, even though it should logically be january yet she isn't dressed for the weather.

tbh i think it's just that the details are all fucked, especially since it looks like in an earlier draft of the script gwen was only gone for twoish months instead of five, and it might have been even shorter before that; it's possible the audio of the actors saying in character that "it's been seventeen months" comes from a different version of the script from what the animators were working from, and that different sequences that made it into the final film were animated at different times according to different versions of the script. esp since we know how fucked and chaotic that production was.

maybe we can handwave this as 'it's a different time of year in each dimension; for example: gwen's dimension is a season ahead of miles's' -- which means when she goes home it's around october on e65.

or, that the passage of time works different in different dimensions, which means

1) gwen might have been in the multiverse for months, but only a few days or weeks passed on e65. probably a good thing if her dad isn't gonna be in massive trouble for his daughter going fucking missing, and for making their reconciliation more believable. (... and gwen being stranded on 1610b for a week in itsv might convert to being gone for a weekend on 65b.)

2) gwen started aging at the rate of the dimension she was in. so she literally came back to her dad having sprung ahead months in her development. when you think about the difference in how teens look only months apart, man that must have stung. the ordeal of running away literally matured her.

3) from gwen's perspective, it might have been only a few months since she saw miles. which explains why she still has her itsv haircut-- it's not that she kept it, it's that the decembruary-to-may skip was literally only five months for her even though for him it's been seventeen. so she hasn't been manhunted by her dad for years or pining after miles for a year and a half... and the emotional impact of peter's death is still very recent for her.

4) miles is literally aging faster than her. so the fifteen month age gap might be even smaller now (... was she surprised he got older because she didn't expect him to have grown like that, or to have grown at all? and is gwen more interested in him this time around because she's realized that they're much closer in age now?).

5) if they part ways again, each time they reunite miles will be closer in age to her until he's suddenly older, and then the gap will reverse and keep widening. unless she moves to his dimension for good, which i hope she NEVER does. which shouldn't take long if time passes ~3x faster on 1610b than 65b. interesting implications... including the troubling one that gwen is temporally unable to mature as quickly as miles and will never be able to keep up with him as he grows up. the peter pan motif reverses: now gwen can’t grow up.

6) maybe it took peter b longer than a year and a half to reconcile with mj, conceive a baby and raise her. maybe it's been a few years for him.

7) ... how long has the spider-society existed? is it only a few months to a year old? or much, much older?

8) ... how much time will have passed on earth42 by the time gwen and co find miles. might there be a twist similar to the end of atsv's coming where we watch a split pov of gwen and co seaching for miles and him still tied to that punching bag, only to learn when they finally meet again that those two povs are set not in different worlds, but in different timelines, and miles has been on earth-42 for days, weeks or months?

yeah idk.... the timeline of gwen's disappearance and the chronology of her world is so messy and the details all contradict.

i'm just gonna assume that the vulture's file is just cumulative and he was a supervillain who's been active for decades before spider-woman existed and may be part of why she decided to put that mask on, because the sliding timeline is too confusing otherwise.

[mariacallous]

OKLAHOMA CITY (AP) — Police on Friday released video of the moments before and after a fight in an Oklahoma high school bathroom where the mother of a nonbinary student says the 16-year-old was knocked to the floor, and in a 911 call their mother made the next day she expressed concern about a head injury.

The teen died a short time later.

Sue Benedict, the mother of Nex Benedict, told a 911 operator that Nex had hit their head on the bathroom floor when the students who beat them up “knocked” them to the ground.

Benedict said during the Feb. 8 call made about 1 p.m. that the teen’s eyes were rolling back, their breathing was shallow and their hands were curled, according to the audio released by police in the Tulsa suburb of Owasso.

She said Nex had complained of a headache, and she had taken the teen to the hospital after the altercation the day before.

“I hope this ain’t from her head. They were supposed to have checked her out good,” said Benedict, who remained calm during the call and said she had been to nursing school. Sue Benedict said in a statement on a GoFundMe page set up to help cover funeral expenses that the family was still learning to use the teen’s preferred name and pronouns.

Paramedics responding to the family’s house performed CPR and rushed Nex to the hospital, where Nex later died.

The video released by police from the high school on Feb. 7 shows students walking into and then out of a bathroom after stacking chairs on top of tables in a cafeteria. Six students are seen entering the bathroom before Nex, who stops at a water fountain and then enters the bathroom along with two other students. A faculty member is then seen going into the bathroom, and the students walk out.

There is no indication from the footage, which only shows the bathroom door and part of the cafeteria, of what occurred in the bathroom.

Another video shows Nex being walked out of the school by a security officer and being picked up by a guardian.

In audio of the call Benedict made to police on Feb. 7 at about 3:30 p.m. from the hospital, she says Nex was “jumped” in the bathroom, and she said she wanted an officer to come so she could file charges.

But according to a police search warrant that was signed the day after Benedict’s death, she told the responding officers that she didn’t want to file charges at that time. She instead asked police to speak to school officials about issues on campus among students.

Benedict told The Independent later that the teen had suffered bruises all over their face and eyes in the fight.

The school district has said the students were in the restroom for less than two minutes before the fight was broken up by other students and a staff member. Police and school officials have not said what provoked the fight.

The family, through their lawyer, declined to comment Friday on the search warrant. The attorney did not immediately offer any comment on behalf of the family on the video and audio released. Earlier this week, they said they have launched their own independent investigation into what happened.

Vigils are planned over the weekend in Oklahoma for the teen.

The search warrant, which was signed the day after Benedict’s death, also shows investigators took 137 pictures at the school, including inside the girl’s bathroom where the fight occurred. They additionally collected two swabs of stains from the bathroom and retrieved records and documents of the students involved in the altercation.

While the two-week-old warrant states that police were seeking evidence in a felony murder, the department has since said Benedict’s death was not a result of injuries suffered in the fight, based on the preliminary results of the autopsy.

The police department, which didn’t respond to multiple messages sent Friday, has said it won’t comment further on the teen’s cause of death until toxicology and other autopsy results are completed.

Owasso school officials, meanwhile, said Friday that they requested police obtain the court order to search the school because of state and federal privacy laws regarding the release of confidential student records.

“We are continuing to cooperate with the Owasso Police Department’s ongoing investigation,” Jordan Korphage, a school district spokesperson, wrote in an email.

Tulsa County District Attorney Steve Kunzweiler, whose office isn’t currently involved in the police investigation, called the death a tragedy but cautioned people against being “swayed by sentiments fueled by the passion of emotions which may be misinformed.”

“A family in our community is grieving and we empathize with their sorrow during this difficult time,” he wrote in an email Friday. “While much has been speculated about this child’s death in social media, we will maintain the integrity of law enforcement’s investigation, and allow them to do their job.”

[antidrumpfs]

Rudy Giuliani was caught on audio tape spewing vulgar comments toward a woman who has since accused him of sexual harassment and sexual abuse, according to new transcripts filed in New York Supreme Court by lawyers for his accuser.

Noelle Dunphy sued the former New York City mayor for $10 million in May, filing a 70-page complaint chock full of graphic allegations and text messages. She alleged Giuliani forced her to have oral sex and intercourse with him, in addition to making sexist, racist, drunken, and antisemitic remarks when she worked for him from 2019 to 2021. She also revealed that she recorded some of their interactions.

[beardedmrbean]

The leaders of No Labels, a group preparing a potential independent presidential ticket, have asked the Justice Department to investigate potential criminal charges against a range of Democratic-leaning groups and activists who have been opposing their effort.

The group, in a Jan. 11 letter signed by former senator Joseph Lieberman (I-Conn.), former North Carolina governor Pat McCrory (R) and others, argues that a public and private pressure campaign to discourage donations to No Labels and support for the ticket goes beyond legally protected political speech.

“It’s one thing to oppose candidates who are running; it’s another to use intimidation tactics to prevent them from even getting in front of the voters,” the letter reads in part.

The Justice Department has not responded to the letter, according to No Labels leaders. The group scheduled an event at the National Press Club on Thursday to announce the letter.

The argument that the group puts forward in the letter is untested and unusual for a political group. Efforts to pressure donors, candidates and endorsers from taking various actions are the currency of politics, and courts generally give significant leeway to campaigns to compete publicly and privately for support.

Dan Webb, a Chicago attorney and No Labels volunteer who also signed the letter, said the group hoped any federal investigation turned up more evidence of wrongdoing.

“We don’t have subpoena or grand jury powers,” Webb said in a statement, about why the group had not filed a civil lawsuit yet. “We cannot do the type of investigation that is needed like DOJ can.”

The letter details a number of incidents that the group’s leaders believe go beyond the regular rough and tumble of politics. This includes an electronic billboard featuring photographs of No Labels CEO Nancy Jacobson and her husband, former Democratic consultant Mark Penn, that was driven around Georgetown during the weekend of the 2023 White House Correspondents’ Association dinner.

“There is no place for MAGA hate in Georgetown,” the billboard read.

Others involved in the No Labels effort have had their reputations or future business opportunities threatened, the letter reads. One supporter of the effort, co-founder Holly Page, says another Democrat warned her during a private lunch about her involvement with the presidential effort and asked her about what one of her personal clients thought about. Weeks later, an attorney for that client called to end their business relationship, she said.

Opponents of No Labels, a category that includes a range of outside Democratic groups and operatives, have publicly declared their intent to put pressure on donors and potential candidates to steer clear of the group. They point out that third-party candidates have no modern record of success in presidential politics, and there has been no polling that shows the group, even without a named candidate, has a clear path to a victory in the electoral college.

They argue that any No Labels candidacy will probably draw more votes from Democrats than Republicans, potentially delivering a win to former president Donald Trump, who is leading the race for the Republican nomination.

“We are worried about any third party. We realize it is a free country. Anybody can run for president who wants to run for president,” former congressman Dick Gephardt (D-Mo.), who is leading one effort to oppose No Labels, said in December. “But we have a right to tell citizens the danger they will face if they vote for any of these third-party candidates.”

Audio of an anti-No Labels meeting acquired by Semafor quoted one opponent of the effort as suggesting that anyone involved would have their records searched for any embarrassing details. “If you have one fingernail clipping of a skeleton in your closet, we will find it,” the person said during the call, according to Semafor. “If you think you were vetted when you ran for governor, you’re insane. That was nothing. We are going to come at you with every gun we can possibly find.”

Ballot Access News, which tracks ballot registration, reported that No Labels had gained access or finished the process for access in 16 states in December, including key battlegrounds such as Arizona, Nevada and North Carolina.

Benjamin Chavis, a national co-chair of No Labels who also signed the letter, said that efforts to stop the group’s progress were undemocratic.

“When they prevent No Labels from getting ballot access, they’re really preventing the American people from getting ballot access,” he said.

Sorry bout the format, link didn't want to attach

[merrinla]

Shar Temple. Cut content - Necromancer

According to early access data, instead of Balthazar, there was another necromancer named Sevryn in the Shar Temple. Although this character has exactly the same ID as Balthazar, his background is very different from the release version. He was also very interested in Nightsong, or rather in her death. As for Nightsong, she was an unwilling avatar of Shar in the original plot. I didn't find any of Sevryn's audio files, but I tried to restore his text dialogue.

Synopsis: Players meet Sevryn in a crumbling temple ofthe Dark Goddess Shar. He has been locked within its walls for decades - he once came to claim the Nightsong's power, but she imprisoned him within its walls instead. Once locked inside, he and the Nightsong began to wage an eternal war. He sends wave after wave of skeleton minions to attack her, but her phantom-like shades are an even match for his army. They are at a stalemate. When players meet him, Sevryn is initially suspicious - he knows the doors are sealed, and expect they are a trick conjured by the Nightsong to kill him. During their conversation, he decides he can use the player instead - he tasks them with assassinating the Nightsong with a dagger that will absorb her powers. Players can choose to help him or not - but if they refuse, Sevryn will attack them. If they manage to kill the Nightsong with the dagger, he sets about a plot to build an empire of undead in the Underdark. Players may also choose to help Sevyrn's apprentice kill him instead. Sevryn looks upon his apprentice with disdain, and is fully aware that the novice plans to kill him. When he speaks, Sevryn refers to himself as 'we'. He has a tendency to talk to himself as well, working his thoughts out verbally - a side effect of decades of relative isolation. If he gets angry, he never quite raises his voice - he remains calm, but his words drip with poison. His one moment of true, unfiltered emotion comes if he tries to slow the development of the player's tadpole. He is horrified by the power he senses within it.

Sevryn: What's this? A soldier? An assassin? A fiend? Node Context: "Players have just greeted him. He's considering them - he believes them to be assassins sent by the Nightsong to kill him." Sevryn: Yes, another of the Nightsong's pawns, sent to slide a knife into Sevryn's back. Node Context: "With an edge."

Player: That wasn't the plan, but I'm happy to oblige. Sevryn: We will enjoy bending this one to our will. NodeContext: Preparing to attack the player. He is going to kill them and turn them into an undead minion.

Player: Who the hell are you? Sevryn: You know who we are. We see through this pathetic act. Node Context: "Players have asked who he is upon greeting him - but he thinks it is an act. He believes they were sent by the Nightsong to kill him."

Player: I am no one's pawn. Sevryn: What, then? The doors are sealed. Node Context: "Players have told him they do not work for the Nightsong. He doesn't believe them." Sevryn: She conjured you - admit it. Speak. Node Context: "Accusing the player of being sent by the Nightsong to kill him."

Player: What if she did? Sevryn: Impertinent. Arrogant. Foolish. Node Context: "Angry, but in a quiet, simmering way. Players have just threatened him." Sevryn: We will enjoy bending this one to our will.

Player Sharite: I am a servant of Shar. You and I are not enemies. Player Shadowheart: |We both serve Shar, right? I am not your enemy.| Sevryn: Oh, this is not our temple. We serve no goddess. We serve no one. Sevryn: But you serve the Nightsong's creator. Her source. You are on her side. Node Context: "Players have falsely assumed that the necromancer follows Shar - he does not. But the Nightsong does."

Player: The Nightsong is my target, not my master. [persuasion check] A) Success Sevryn: Oh, pitiable fool. The Nightsong cannot be taken. We have tried. B) Failure Sevryn: He/She dares answer us with falsehoods. He/She is wicked. He/She is a liar. Node Context: "Talking to himself, building with disdain. The player has just said something he believes is a lie."

Player: You've got it wrong. I'm not here to help her. [persuasion check] A) Success Sevryn: None can enter the temple. What are we to believe? Can it be true? Node Context : "Working out how the player came to be in the sealed temple." B) Failure Sevryn: He/She dares answer us with falsehoods. He/She is wicked. He/She is a liar.

Player: Then she's not an ally. She's competition. [religion check] A) Success Sevryn: Is it a ruse? Can we believe? Yes, it is true the Dark Goddess delights in the suffering of her flock. Node Context: "Coming over to the player's way of thinking - that Shar does not foster community amongst her flock, but competition. B) Failure Sevryn: He/She dares answer us with falsehoods. He/She is wicked. He/She is a liar.

Player: So be it. Another sacrifice for the Lady of Loss. Sevryn: Impertinent. Arrogant. Foolish. Sevryn: We will enjoy bending this one to our will.

Player: I wasn't conjured, and I have no interest in your petty feud. Sevryn: No interest in the Great War. No pawn of the Nightsong. Can it be true? Can we believe? Node Context: "Working out how the player came to be in the sealed temple."

Player: I have nothing to admit. I came in through the Underdark. Sevryn: None can enter the temple. What are we to believe? Can it be true? Node Context: "Working out how the player came to be in the sealed temple."

Sevryn: Yes, he/she smells of rivers. He/She smells of trees. Of the Underdark and Overworld and more. Node Context: "Speaking to himself, working out the possibilities. Sevryn: Tell us then - you breached the temple's seal. You walk these wretched halls. Sevryn: To what end? Why are you here, if not to aid the witch?

Player: Why are you here? Depends on whether the player asked questions to the necromancer Sevryn: Tsk. He/She dares ask us questions. Sevryn: Tsk. He/She still pesters us with questions. Node Context: "To himself, with disdain." Sevryn: Perhaps we will provide an answer, should he/she give us our own in return. Node Context: "Talking to himself, pondering." Sevryn: We ask you again - why are you here?

Player: I'm not telling you anything. Player: I'm not playing your little game. Sevryn: A pity. We must satisfy our curiosity with your corpse. Node Context: "Disdain falls, revealing evil curiosity"

Player: It doesn't matter. I'm here, and you look like you need saving. [persuasion check] A) Success Sevryn: We do not need a saviour. We are imprisoned, yes, but we have held our own against the witch for decades. Node Context: "Emphasis on 'Saving' - he comes across arrogant here. He doesn't want the player's help." Sevryn: Saving? No, we need retribution. We are owed it. Node Context: "Line begins somewhat ponderingly, before building up with bile. Emphasis on 'owed' in the final sentence. We are OWED it." Sevryn: You... you could be useful. Yes, you could be the one to do it. You could kill the Nightsong. Node Context: "Coming to a wondrous revelation. Emphasis on 'You' in the final sentence: YOU could kill the Nightsong" Player: My usefulness comes with a price. Sevryn: We have much to offer. Our powers are extraordinary. B) Failure Sevryn: Impertinent. Arrogant. Foolish. Sevryn: We will enjoy bending this one to our will.

Player: I need to travel through the temple. Player: I'm just passing through. Sevryn: He/She seeks the lands beyond. The towers of the moon. It is impossible. Node Context: "Players have told him they wish to pass through the temple. He has been trapped for decades, and knows of no way through." Sevryn: If the witch's shades do not thwart you, the temple will. Her cursed power spreads to its foundation. Sevryn: We came to take that power, but we were snared, trapped within these walls. That is why we are here. NodeContext: "Emphasis on 'that' - answering a question the player asked a bit ago 'Why are you here'?" Sevryn: There is no escape, no exit to the other side. Not while she still lives. NodeContext: "Thinks a moment before speaking. He's making a point - 'I've been here for years. I know there's no way through. You have to kill her to do it."

Player: I got in through one sealed door. I can handle another. Sevryn: She will stop you. But perhaps we can help. Yes, perhaps we can help each other. Node Context: "He's beginning to figure out his plan - the player will kill the Nightsong."

If the player has met Aradin and knows about Nightsong. Player: I seek the Nightsong. Player: I've come to collect the Nightsong. Player: The Nightsong is my target, not you. Sevryn: Oh, pitiable fool. The Nightsong cannot be taken. We have tried.

Sevryn: Yes, Sevryn sought the Nightsong, same as you. We were given shackles instead. Node Context: "Explaining how he was trapped in the temple."

Sevryn: You wish to know why we are here? We too came for the Nightsong. But she was not to be collected. Node Context: "Explaining how he was trapped in the temple. Responding to a question asked previously - he would answer if players answered his own question." Sevryn: The witch bent the temple to her will, trapping us within its walls. Don't you see? Sevryn: She is the temple. She is our prison. Node Context: "She' is the Nightsong - her curse has overtaken the entire temple."

Player: How long have you been here, exactly? Sevryn: We do not know. No, Sevryn does not count the years, but they are many. Node Context: "It's been decades." Sevryn: Years locked in an endless stalemate. A life wasted in this eternal war. Node Context: "He has been locked up for decades. He his bitter. He wants blood."

Player: The seal is broken. You can leave the way I entered. Sevryn: And let the Nightsong live? We cannot do that. It is unthinkable. Node Context: "Letting the Nightsong live is unthinkable to him. She has stolen his life." Sevryn: She has taken too much from us. No, the war must end. She must die. Node Context: "Starts calm but builds with bile."

Player: You failed. I won't. Sevryn: Oh, you will, so long as the witch lives. But perhaps we can help. Yes, our ambitions are aligned. Node Context: "Responding to the player saying 'You failed [to take the Nightsong]. I won't.' Begins to hatch a plan in his head - to have the player kill the Nightsong." Sevryn: You know of our torment, our bondage. You see how she slaughters my precious pets. Node Context: "His pets are his treasured army of skeletons. He sees them as his children." Sevryn: We are owed retribution. We are owed her death.

If the necromancer doesn't know that the player is looking for Nightsong. Sevryn: You... you could do it. You could kill the Nightsong. Dispose of her, and the path through will be clear. NodeContext: "Coming to a wondrous revelation. Emphasis on 'and' - this is a win-win situation for all involved." Player: I'll need more than safe passage if I'm going to do your dirty work. Sevryn: We have much to offer. Our powers are extraordinary.

If the necromancer knows that the player is looking for Nightsong. Sevryn: You... you could be the key. You could kill the Nightsong. Node Context: "Coming to a wondrous revelation."

Player: I'm here to collect the Nightsong, not kill her. Sevryn: She cannot be taken alive. Still, you will not leave empty-handed. Node Context: "'She cannot be taken alive' is said slowly - he has said this already, and he is re-emphasizing for the stupid player." Sevryn: We have much to offer. Our powers are extraordinary. Sevryn: Silence the Nightsong, and Sevryn will provide. Node Context: "If players kill the Nightsong, he will give them a reward."

If the player refused Player: I'm not killing anyone. Player: I don't think so. Sevryn: It was not a request. You needn't be alive to help us. Node Context: "Players have refused to kill the Nightsong for him. He's telling them that they will, once he turns them into an undead minion." Sevryn: Oh, he/she will make a fine addition to our collection. Node Context: "He is going to kill the player and turn them into an undead minion."

If the player has agreed Player: I have a tadpole in my head. Could you get it out? Sevryn: A tadpole. An illithid parasite. Fascinating. Node Context: "Players have just told him that they have a tadpole in their hadds." Sevryn: Get rid of it? No. But we could siphon its power, slow the transformation to a crawl. Sevryn: Time is not your friend. Sevryn can give you more - if you dispose of the witch. Node Context: "He will slow the tadpole's growth if players kill Nightsong." Player: I'm in. What do I need to do? Player: All right. Tell me what I need to do. Sevryn: The dagger! Plunge it into the Nightsong's stony heart. Sap her, drain her, and return the blade to us. Cinematic Node Context: "Pulls out and passes the dagger to the player." Node Context: "Explaining how to kill the Nightsong. Pulls the dagger out and passes it to the player as he says 'Sap Her'. Sevryn: You've seen the statue at the centre of the temple? The witch is at her feet. Sevryn: Our books will show you the way, past the temple's deadly tricks. Node Context: "Giving instructions on how to kill the Nightsong." Sevryn: Now go. We must plan. We must prepare. The Great War is almost won! Node Context: "Elated and excited, but still subdued. He is not the overexcitable type."

----------

Sevryn: The Nightsong still lives, yes this one speaks to us. Why?

Player: Should I be worried about those skeletons? Sevryn: Our children? No, they will not harm you. Not while you remain committed. Sevryn: But we will not hesitate to change their instruction should you step out of line.

If the player promised Nightsong to free her Player: The Nightsong is under my protection now. You will not harm her. Sevryn: The witch has broken your mind. You disappoint us.

----------

Sevryn: The Nightsong is dead. We feel it. We sense it. NodeContext: "Players have successfully killed the Nightsong."

Sevryn: Where is the dagger? Do you have it? Node Context: Players have told him that the Nightsong is dead, but they did not have the dagger. They have returned, so he is asking for it.

Sevryn: The dagger. Where is it? Give it to us! Node Context: "The dagger holds the essence of the Nightsong. He wants it back so he can claim it for himself."

Player: I think I'll be keeping the dagger for myself. Sevryn: He/She betrays us? Claims the dagger for his/her own? Node Context: "Talking to himself." Sevryn: It is useless to you. You die for nothing. Node Context: "About to attack. 'It' refers to the Nightsong-infused dagger that the player has decided to keep for themselves."

Player: I don't have it. Sevryn: Retrieve it. Quickly. Node Context: "The player has killed "

Player: Here. Driven into her heart, like you asked. Sevryn: We cannot believe it. Years of suffering, decades of miserable captivity - they are rewarded. Cinematic Node Context: "Player passes him the dagger. Necromancer holds it and inspects it, in awe." Node Context: "His ambitions are finally realised - he has claimed the Nightsong's power." Sevryn: The Nightsong's essence. Her power. It is finally ours.

If the player chooses to remove the tadpole as a reward. Sevryn: Oh, yes. Your tadpole. Your parasite. Node Context: "He has promised to slow the player's parasite in exchange for the dagger. Now that he has it, he will fulfill his promise." Sevryn: Come closer. Let Sevryn see. Cinematic Node Context: "Beckons the player closer." Node Context: "Beckoning the player so he can assess the tadpole in their head." Player: Step toward him. Sevryn: Yes. I can feel it. Squirming. Wriggling. Consuming. Cinematic Node Context: "Eyes closed, his hands hovering near the player's head." Node Context: "He is searching through the player's head, feeling out the tadpole." Sevryn: Damn! What... no! NodeContext: "The tadpole has rejected him - and it terrifies him. The only real moment of strong emotion from the Necromancer." Sevryn: We don't understand. What are you?! Node Context: "Horrified. He's tried to halt the tadpole's growth, but its power terrified him."

Player: Calm down. What happened? Sevryn: We do not know. We don not want to know. Node Context: "He does not want to know what the tadpole is. He would rather be ignorant - for his own sake."

Player: Did it work? Have you slowed it? Sevryn: No. No, we could not even touch it.

Player: Your reaction doesn't inspire confidence. Sevryn: It saw us. It laughed at us. Sevryn: It is not normal. It is... corrupted. Distorted. Perverse. Node Context: "The tadpole rejected him with powerful magic. It terrified him." Sevryn: Do not speak to us. Do not even think of us. Just leave. Now! Node Context: "Begging the player to leave - he is terrified of the tadpole."

If the player hasn't yet chosen a reward. Sevryn: Oh, you have served us well. We owe you an impossible debt. But perhaps a gift will suffice? Node Context: "The player has successfully killed the Nightsong, granting him incredible power".

If the player has chosen a rod as a reward. Sevryn: We have a gift for you, as promised. Yes, we made it. Necromancer gives resurrection rod to player. Node Context: "Promised the player a gift if they killed the Nightsong. Now that she is dead, he is fulfilling that promise."

Player: I'll take it. Thanks.

Player: Keep it. I have no use for it. Sevryn: You would refuse power? You baffle us. Yes, you are confusing. Node Context: "The player has refused a gift for their services in killing the Nightsong." Sevryn: We will only offer it once. Do not bother us by asking for it again. NodeContext: "Telling the player not to ask for another reward for killing the Nightsong."

An option if the player haven't yet mentioned their tadpole problem Player: There's something else I'd ask of you. I have a tadpole in my head - can you get rid of it? Sevryn: A tadpole? An illithid parasite? Oh, you grow more impressive by the moment. Node Context: "The player has just told him they have a Mind Flayer parasite in their head. He is fascinated." Next, the dialogue is exactly the same when the necromancer tries to remove the tadpole.

If the player have changed their mind about removing the tadpole Player: Actually, I'd prefer a different reward. Sevryn: You would keep the tadpole? We do see the appeal. Node Context: "Player has just refused the necromancer's offer to halt the tadpole's grwoth." Sevryn: Here. We do hope you use it well. Necromancer gives resurrection rod to player. Cinematic Node Context: "Hands player the rod of power." Node Context: "Giving player the gift he offered them for killing the Nightsong."

I'm not sure, but it's more likely an answer if the player stole the rod Sevryn: Hm. But we cannot find it. Perplexing. Our appreciation must suffice. Cinematic Node Context: "Pats his pockets down, confused." Node Context: "He goes to grab a reward promised to the player, but he no longer has it."

Sevryn: You may leave us. We have much to do. Node Context: "Pleased - the player has killed the Nightsong for him, and he now possesses his power."

Player: I'm curious. What abilities does that dagger give you? Sevryn: Ownership of the temple. Command of her shades. The ability to create more. Node Context: "Explaining the power he possesses, now that he holds the dagger containing the Nightsong's essence. Sevryn: That is what we expect. But we must study it. We must experiment.

Player: You're staying in the temple? Sevryn: Why would we leave? It belongs to us now. Node Context: "'It' refers to the temple - now that the Nightsong is dead, he controls it." Sevryn: We will build our army. A legion of undead. A cavalry of shades! Sevryn: None will dare oppose us. Our empire will rival Netheril itself. Node Context: "Explaining his plans now that he possesses the Nightsong's power."

Player: I can't let you do that. Sevryn: So quickly do you turn usurper. Your corpse will make a fine footsoldier. Node Context: "The player has just told him that they won't let him execute his plans for an undead empire after helping him gain the power to do so.

Player: Good luck with that. Sevryn: Good fortune is meaningless when one commands this kind of power. Node Context: "Player has just wished him luck on creating an empire - he feels he is too powerful now to need luck." Sevryn: Yes, we will subjugate fortune. We will warp and buckle it to our ambition. Node Context: Says 'fortune' with sarcastic disdain." Sevryn: But we appreciate the sentiment, worthless as it may be.

----------

If the player completed the quest to kill Nightsong and received a reward for it. Sevryn: We will not forget your assistance. Yes, we will remember your usefulness. Node Context: "The player has fulfilled the Necromancer's wishes - they killed the Nightsong and delivered the dagger that absorbed her power to him."

----------

If the necromancer has already tried to remove the tadpole. Sevryn: The worm sees through your eyes. Leave us, we beg you. Node Context: "Begging the player to leave - he is terrified of the tadpole."

----------

There is also a draft of the dialogue with the necromancer. I won't post it because it's not much different. The player didn't tell him about the tadpole, he sensed it himself and offered help in exchange for killing Nightsong. Also players could successfully lie that they killed Nightsong.

Besides, game files contained drafts of dialogues with the necromancer's apprentice, Myronus. These are raw, but I haven’t found anything better.

----------

Apprentice: |Master we have visit.|

Apprentice: |Please follow me.|

Apprentice: |It's been a while since we saw someone alive here.|

Apprentice: |Hello stranger.|

Player: |Who are you?| Apprentice: |I'm the apprentice of the necromancer.|

Player: |For how long have you been here?| Apprentice: |It's been so long that I can't remember.|

Player: |Are you here all alone?| Apprentice: |No, I live with my master.|

If players receive their reward for killing Nightsong Apprentice: |So you are who dealt with Noghtsong. You have my gratitude.|

Player: |How is it to live here?| Apprentice: |Let's say that if I don't follow my master's orders I may get in big trouble.| Apprentice: |But if something horrible happened to him...| Apprentice: |If you were for the cause of course.|

Player: |I will help you kill him.| Player: |I will help Nightsong.| Apprentice: |Then let's do this.|

Player: |Not my problem.| Apprentice: |Let me know if you change your mind.|

----------

If the player accepted the apprentice's offer to kill the necromancer Player: I've accepted another offer. You're the one to die. Sevryn: Myronus... we expected more from you than siding with our pathetic apprentice. Sevryn: Perhaps your corpse will be less disappointing.

If the player has talked to the apprentice and knows that he wants his master dead Player: Your apprentice wants you dead. I thought you should know. Sevryn: We know this. Poor Myronus cannot raise his hand against us. We find it... amusing. Sevryn: Do not give him another thought. We never do.

---------- If the player killed the necromancer Apprentice: |Thanks for helping me, now I'm free.| Player: |What will you do now?| Apprentice: |I'll get out of this place.| Player: |Bye.|

[triscribeaucollection]

Shuri for the Win snippet

It starts with an error message.

More specifically, it starts when Shuri enters her lab early one morning, still half asleep, and attempts to pull up her itinerary for the day, only to blink blearily at- static. On her worktable. From her systems.

She finds herself abruptly awake, and distinctly uneasy.

Attempting to run a diagnostic comes with... disappointingly little information. According to the computer, there isn’t anything wrong with her schedule. No corrupted data, no broken connection between files. Only the error on Shuri’s part, attempting to pull up something that- wasn’t there.

Which could not be right.

From the age of six, she meticulously planned her schedule, cramming in as much time as possible for lab studies and projects around lessons and events - Shuri can handle spontaneous developments just fine, but when Wakanda and the world beyond were not actually in danger from criminal or alien threats, she likes to have everything neatly laid out each day. She could- could not actually recall what had been on the schedule for that day, but if she’d neglected to plan anything in advance, then there should only be an empty file, not an error message.

So.

Her own mistake, or external interference?

A little over two hours later, after combing through her systems with the digital equivalent of a fine-toothed comb and opening up several panels to check physical hardware, Shuri concludes no one has gotten into her lab’s private network to deliver any sort of virus or commit other sabotage. Yet, the error message persists. Assigning an algorithm to search for any other signs of static turns up several: at least one block of time on any given day every two weeks or so, going back over a year. Shuri wracks her brain, but cannot recall anything significant she’d done or attempted to avoid on those dates. The only stand-out which she does remember was a three day visit to New York City, which involved meeting with a Stark Industries liaison, checking in with the Wakandan representatives assigned to the United Nations, and- and-

-and something.

Upon realizing she can’t recall what else happened on that trip, Shuri pulls up memory files downloaded from her kimoyo beads, hastily seeking out the dates in question. No visual footage or audio recordings, unfortunately, but at least the data of her movements remain. Shuri opens a screen with a map of the city, transfers the recorded coordinates, and watches an accelerated accounting of where she went each day. At first, only the official buildings she can remember; then, a large amount of time traveling by foot around the section of the city known as ‘Queens’. Which Shuri does not recall in the slightest.

Her fingers drum against the edge of her worktable. When the simulation ends, she saves the map and painted route, then dismisses everything in order to sit back and stare at her blank screens.

An error in the computer was one thing.

An identical error in her own mind... it left an uneasy twist in her stomach.

At least the benefit of her itinerary being unexpectedly clear meant Shuri could immediately go find someone to ask for help.

---

I've got this plus two more pages up on my Patreon page, behind the paywall for now but scheduled to be available to anyone in a few weeks. Hopefully I jot some more down soon and get a chapter onto AO3, but not until after I make some more progress on my other big fix-it fic projects