#and some of the items they can get for pleasing the specters are very useful

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then the REAL chaos started – because as Alice finally got the weather to start calming down, the party officially started! I had Alice head into the kitchen and make a lovely gourmet Spinach Frittata for everyone to chow down on later, while Victor finished his cupcake and Scruberooed himself and I tried to properly wrangle all the guests and get them to head into the barn with Smiler and Marm. Things started out okay with Marm greeting Nalani and having a nice chat with her, while Victor wandered in to officially meet Rory (apparently he didn���t actually know her? Fortunately they got along quite well) and Smiler ran off to feed Toothy (I mean, nobody should have been able to get at the cowplant’s cake, the gate’s locked to household members only, but – better safe than sorry!). I then put everyone but Alice into a group and made them all “go here together” in the barn so I could better keep track of them (as Clement had already wandered upstairs to dance to Smiler's radio and Felipe was being distracted by one of the cats). I kept them all busy chatting as Alice kept cooking, with Smiler and Marm discussing family with Felipe and Nalani respectively to help complete the various party goals –

-->And then, after a bit of a fiery finish to the frittata (Alice isn’t as practiced with gourmet cooking as she is with regular cooking ^^;), it was dinner time! I had the group go and gather in the first floor hallway to keep everyone where I could see them, then had Alice officially call everyone to dinner (stopping her from running off randomly in the process – I have GOT to turn her super-speed off). Which prompted almost all the guests to start coming in for a plate –

And prompted me to notice that, wow, Marm was TENSE. Like, really tense. Both from “Stranger Danger” (from being a Loner around unknown Sims) and from being around Rory, who was in her Beast Form. I keep forgetting werewolves make most Sims nervous because all of mine like them. *facepalm* As Marm didn’t actually need to eat (is physically incapable of it, in fact – do you see a slot for food on the faceplate?), I decided they should hang out in the hall with Smiler (who also doesn't need to eat, and in fact shouldn't because they'll react with disgust thanks to their Withered Stomach) instead, bonding with their creator while the group that could eat enjoyed the meal and chatted about family and stuff to fulfill more party goals. I thus canceled the “call to meal” interaction for both of them and prepared to have them start chatting –

-->But then Tina Tinker showed up at the door, saying she’d brought a crafted gift (a common upgrade part – dunno how that’s crafted, but okay) for us because we were such awesome people. And when I tried to have Smiler go say hi and accept the gift, it took THREE TRIES because, first of all, the specters that always spawn at the front door whenever someone knocks kept sprinkling them, and second of all, Smiler kept wandering off to do things like sit at the dinner table before properly completing the "sprinkled by specters" animation. *sigh* This game sometimes... Not to mention, things were almost equally chaotic at said dinner table, as everyone kept playing musical chairs for no good reason (well, okay, ONE good reason, Alice and Rory had a hug at one point, but other than that, not sure why everyone kept switching seats). Despite this, I managed to fulfill some more goals by having Alice tell Rory an engaging story and Victor talk more about family with Clement –

-->And then I realized “where’s Marm?” and found him upstairs planning to do some yoga. *facepalm* You're the guest of honor at this shindig, robot! I sent him back downstairs, where he ended up being tuned up a bit by Clement while the chaos at the table continued and Smiler kept wandering off to do their own thing. I was having a REAL hard time keeping track of everyone by this point –

[bluejayblueskies]

for tma fantasy week prompt 7: legend

.

Jon’s foot slips on a tree root, and he nearly falls before he manages to catch himself on a tree, the rough bark cutting into the palm of his hand. He mutters a curse and checks to make sure he hasn’t dropped any items from his basket. The mushrooms and herbs seem to be in order, and Jon carefully tucks a delicate white flower back into place before starting forward again.

 That’s what he gets for foraging at night, he supposes. But the flowers he’s looking for bloom in a very specific time frame, and if he doesn’t pick them then, they’ll lose their medicinal quality. So, Jon grits his teeth and slows his pace slightly, taking more care with where he places his feet lest he end up actually hurting himself or—gods forbid—losing some of his supplies. He needs those flowers; most of his medicines rely on the little purple blossoms clustered near the shore of the lake, and he’s the only one who makes them. So, he spends most of his nights in the woods and most of his days fighting off exhaustion. The bags under his eyes have reached rather impressive proportions.

 It’s not his fault everyone else is too scared to venture into the woods at night. Putting so much stock in a local legend, in what is essentially a child’s tale, is ridiculous, and Jon will have no part of it.

He’s heard the legend before, of course, so many times that the words have begun to grate on his ears like sandpaper. According to legend, there had once been a man who lived in the very center of the forest. He lived alone, isolated and hidden away in the trees, with only the flora and fauna for company. But it had never bothered him, and he had spent his time painting the forest in yellows and purples and blues, spreading wildflowers all the way to the edges of the wood and carving paths in the earth for creeks and streams to flow. (This was the part that annoyed Jon the most; a man living alone in the woods he could believe, but that? Ridiculous.)

 The man had grown comfortable being alone. He’d loved it. And then, one day, another came to the center of the wood, looking to build a home there. The stranger stepped on the flowers the man had carefully cultivated and scared away the birds and disrupted the gentle silence of the trees and the leaves with boisterous words. So, from within the forest, the man summoned a great fog, thick and heavy as it rolled over the ground and through the trees, and swallowed the stranger whole. And then the man was alone again.  

 Something something legend says he still lives in the woods, something something only comes out at night, something something people sometimes see fog peeking through the trees when they get too close, whatever. It’s all nonsense. Jon knows it is, because he’s been visiting the forest at night for months and he’s never seen anything but a few startled rabbits and a plethora of moths.

 They’d even named the place after him. Blackwood Forest. Jon had always disliked the name—it felt rather repetitive for it to contain both wood and forest, and there had almost certainly never been a man called Blackwood living in this forest.

 Jon is crouched by the lake, halfway through collecting that night’s quota of flowers, when he realizes with a start that he can’t see his hands clearly anymore. They’re hazy before him, like he’s viewing them through warped glass, and when he looks up and over the lake, he’s met with only grey, stagnant and flat and unmoving as it surrounds him.

 Jon stands, gripping his basket tightly. He can barely see its contents; they’re smudged by the fog, turned greyscale and desaturated. His own skin looks sickly, like all the color has been drawn out of it.

 “Hello?” he says, his voice too-loud in the stillness that surrounds him, and if it shakes a bit he pretends it doesn’t because he’s not scared. There’s no ghostly specter of a man planning to trap him in fog forever. It’s a temperate night; fog is to be expected. There’s nothing supernatural about a bit of fog.

 Then, a voice drifts out of the fog, and Jon nearly drops his basket in shock.

 “You’re not supposed to be here,” it says. The words reverberate through the fog, echoing over and over again until they trail away into nothing.

 What? Indignance wipes away Jon’s surprise in the span of a breath, and he snaps back, “I can go where I very well please, thank you. I’ve been coming here for months, and I’m not going to stop just because you tell me to.”

 Gods, he’s talking to fog. This is a new low for him.

 There’s a moment of silence before Jon swears he hears the fog sigh. It’s almost absurd enough to make him laugh. “Still, you… you should leave.”

 Jon scoffs and decides to entertain, just for a moment, the notion that he’s speaking to the man everyone’s convinced is haunting these woods. “What, can’t you just threaten to steal me away? To hold me captive in the fog forever? Apparently, it’s what you do.”

 It’s quiet for a long while—long enough that Jon begins to shift impatiently and consider how long it might take him to navigate out of the forest without being able to see the route in front of him. Then, so quietly Jon can barely hear it, the voice says, “It’s not.”

 If Jon didn’t know any better, he’d think that whatever’s hiding in the fog sounds sad. “What?”

 The fog clusters a bit heavier around Jon, tickling at his skin and leaving behind a fine mist of water, before retreating suddenly, leaving the ground and the trees bare around him, illuminated by the moon above. And, not five feet away, stands a man, his edges blurred and every part of him an icy white, from the curls that spill down his shoulders to his skin to the cloak he has wrapped tightly around him (though, when Jon looks closer, he thinks that might actually be fog, thick and clinging to the man’s skin). The man is looking at a point just behind Jon’s shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “It’s not,” he repeats. “I- I don’t want to hurt anyone. I haven’t hurt anyone.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Who’s there to hurt? Nobody comes here anymore.”

 Well. Jon still doesn’t believe in legends, but this is hardly a legend anymore, is it, with the man in question stood there in front of him? A bit warier, Jon says, “So then… what do you want?”

 The man looks at Jon then—really looks at him—and a shiver runs through Jon’s body like he’s just stuck his hand in ice water. “I… I don’t really know?” He hugs his cloak tighter to him, the fog shifting as he does so, and continues, “I… I suppose we could… we could talk?”

 “Talk,” Jon repeats flatly. “I hardly see why the fog was necessary, then.”

 A few tendrils of fog snake out from the man, reaching toward Jon, before the man seems to notice, and they retreat back into the fabric of his cloak. More sharply than Jon expects, the man says, “I’m a bit out of practice, okay? Like, a few decades out of practice. I think I’m allowed a bit of leeway.”

 Maybe Jon’s imagining things, but he thinks, just for a moment, that he sees a flash of color—a wisp of tawny brown lacing through the man’s hair. When he blinks, though, it’s vanished, and so he puts it out of mind. “And what did you want to talk about?”

 The man pauses at that, wrings his hands together. “Anything?” he says finally with a small shrug. “Like, er… what do you use the viccolas for?”

 “The what?”

 The man gestures toward Jon’s basket. “The viccolas? They’re one of my favorite flowers here—a shame they only bloom at night, really—and I used to use them in my tea, to- to help with the pain. I, er. I used to be quite ill before I…” The man trails off and makes a small, distressed noise.

 “Died?” Jon suggests helpfully.

 “What?” The man’s head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with surprise, and there it is again—that small flash of color, just for a moment, this time along the side of the man’s face, a light peach almost indistinguishable from the pale white surrounding it but there all the same. “No, I- I’m not a ghost! Why- why would you think that?”

 “To be fair, you do look like one.”

 The man makes a frustrated noise. “I- I suppose, but that’s- that’s not what happened! I’m still alive, I’m just not—”

 The man cuts off again, sharper this time. When he speaks again, his voice is choked, as if with tears. “I’m just not human anymore, I don’t think.”

 Well, Jon could have told him that much. It’s really rather obvious. Still, he doesn’t think that would be well received. So, instead, he says, “I use the flowers for medicines. Nobody else comes into these woods at night, but I’ve never been afraid of- well, of you, I suppose.”

 He wants to ask the man if he’d created the flowers. If he’d painted them by the lake like the legends say. But that would be ridiculous, and Jon’s not keen on indulging his own childish sense of curiosity.

 “Oh,” the man says quietly. “So, then, you… you’ll keep coming back for them?”

 Jon frowns. “Yes, of course. Some of the people I help would die without the medicine I give them.” His expression turns wary again. “So I would suggest you not try to stop me.”

 “No, no, of course not,” the man says quickly, looking rather horrified at the thought. Which does put Jon’s mind at peace a little. “I… I suppose I just thought that maybe we- we could talk again? Er, whenever you come back, that is.” He lets out a small, bitten-off laugh. “I promise I won’t surround you with fog this time?”

 “Yes, that would be preferable.”

 The man’s eyes brighten at that, his irises lit briefly with a flash of baby blue. “Is- is that a yes?”

 He looks so excited at the prospect of another conversation with Jon—one that will surely feel just as much like pulling teeth as this one, though that could just be Jon’s poor interpersonal skills. And unlike what some people might think, Jon is not heartless. Besides, he can’t deny that he’s curious about the man who lives at the center of the Blackwood Forest.

 “All right,” Jon says with a small nod. “I’ll be back this time next week.”

 The lips that smile back at him are rosy red. “G- great! Er, sorry, I- I realize I never actually asked… what’s your name?”

 After a pause during which Jon briefly entertains the notion of giving out a false name, he says, “Jon. You can call me Jon.”

 “Jon,” the man says, as if testing its weight upon his tongue. “I’m- I’m Martin. Er, Martin Blackwood.”

 Right. A bit of truth in the legends after all, then.

 Jon leaves with his flowers, and Martin fades back into the fog that hangs over the lake’s surface. And when Jon returns the next week, they talk. And the next, and the next, until it becomes routine. Until it becomes something Jon looks forward to. Until he spends most nights in the woods, sat next to the lake and unraveling every facet of a man whose life is so much more than has been spelled out on paper.

 And when the flashes of color begin to resolve into vibrant skin and hair and eyes and Martin begins to cry, Jon wraps his arms around a man who’s become solid once more and finds him warm.

[rhyselinn]

Specter of Torment and King of Cards Timeline, explained

EDIT: The following post has been disproved by Word of God from Yacht Club Games. See the following post for more information.

The rest of the post is below for posterity’s sake, but please know this fact before reading it.

The first time I played King of Cards, the timeline of the game baffled me. Did this take place after Specter of Torment? Before? Even after completing the game, the minute details didn't seem to easily line up. So I did some digging into the inner mechanisms of Shovelverse lore, and I think I've pieced together the chronological course of events.

I’ve posted it here for your viewing pleasure, complete with outgoing links and screenshots to aid legibility. Please let me know if I missed anything!

So, for starters: which game happens first?

Chronologically, the first events in the Shovelverse are those of Specter of Torment's flashback scenes.

These events predate the mainline events of all five games-- Shovel of Hope (SoH), Plague of Shadows (PoS), Specter of Torment (SoT), King of Cards (KoC), and Showdown.

After that, SoT has its intro cutscene and moves into the main plot, starting with the Plains of Passage, where Specter Knight tries and fails to recruit Black Knight.

After that, the game offers an open stage select screen where the player can choose to recruit the knights in any order.

This is all fine and good for Specter of Torment, but King of Cards reveals that there is in fact a canon order to these fights.

In one of KoC's early stages, King Knight fights Specter Knight, and Specter Knight uses certain magical items during the fight. These are called Curios in SoT, and there's a particular order to which they can be obtained, as detailed by the Fan Wiki.

A list of the Curios that Specter Knight uses in this first KoC fight can be found in a walkthrough here. They are as follows:

---Dread Talon (found after completing the Plains of Passage in SoT) ---Spider Scythes (found after completing the Stranded Ship) ---Bounding Orbs (found after completing the Explodatorium) ---Skeleton Sentry (found after completing the Lich Yard)

As such, we can deduce that by the time King Knight fights Specter for the first time in KoC, Specter has recruited two knights and attempted to recruit two more.

This is confirmed by the fact that over the course of SoT, various landmarks in the distance will light up as Specter recruits their corresponding knights, including the Lich Yard (the columned building at the top of the hill on the left). Take a look at the comparison between the beginning and end of the game:

In King of Cards, we can see that the Lich Yard area is already lit even before King Knight fights Specter Knight. (Or it's a graphical coincidence, but at least the art assets don't outright disprove this theory)

Then King Knight gets into a series of shenanigans, eventually fighting Specter Knight a second time later in the story.

For this fight, Specter Knight has added a few new Curios, which you can read about here, to his arsenal, plus a surprise appearance of his SoH/PoS boss form.

In addition to the curios he used in the first fight, he now also has the ability to use the following:

--Throwing Sickles  (Plains of Passage) --Judgment Rush (Flying Machine)

Throwing Sickles are available anytime after the Plains of Passage, which is no surprise since that's the first location Specter visits. But Judgment Rush's presence here indicates that Specter recruited Propeller Knight next.

After this, we can surmise that Specter Knight recruited Mole Knight and Tinker Knight, since both appear in KoC's ending, bound for the Tower of Fate. Given Tinker Knight's KoC preoccupation with avoiding his tinkerbots until after King Knight finds him, perhaps he was recruited second, but anything beyond that is likely pure speculation.

By the end of King of Cards, Specter Knight has gone on seven out of nine recruitment missions, and successfully recruited five knights (Polar, Plague, Propeller, Mole, and Tinker).

One detail that trips up many fans is that of Baz's armor, which bears mentioning here.

Baz is one of the Wandering Travellers in the Shovelverse, and appears multiple times throughout the Treasure Trove games. At the end of King of Cards, he can be seen obtaining* new armor, which we see him wearing in his SoH/PoS encounters. It's notable that he has this same armor in his SoT encounter as well-- this helps us narrow down the timeline substantially.

*(it's revealed in Showdown that he in fact stole the armor from Mr. Hat, much to the latter's consternation, but that's beside the point)

Baz appears when Specter is about to embark on his eighth recruitment mission, and as of the end of KoC (minus the final The End cutscene, which I'll talk about later), that's exactly where Specter's at. That leaves just enough time for him to get the armor at the end of KoC and head directly for the Tower of Fate in time for this cutscene. The timelines actually line up very closely.

So the mainline events of KoC are over at this point. After that, Specter recruits Treasure and King (and it must be noted that during King Knight's fight, he never actually offers to recruit King Knight, since that occurs at the end of KoC-- Specter is merely there to "set him back on schedule," and even outright mentions "our leader," the Enchantress).

With all nine recruitment missions complete, Specter then learns a startling revelation about the Enchantress, and sets off to fight her. This sets the scene for Showdown and the many small interactions that happen inside it. Then SoT's ending happens, with all that entails.

Some amount of time passes after SoT's ending-- long enough for King Knight to paint the castle gold and destroy all the Joustus cards in the land. Then Shovel of Hope begins, Shovel Knight goes about the early parts of his journey, and then he meets King Knight in Pridemoor Keep, thus concluding the events of King of Cards.

In conclusion, Specter of Torment starts first, King of Cards ends last, and the two happen roughly concurrently in the middle.

[aricazorel]

12 from the fluffy prompts for f!shenko please!

Thank you so much for the ask!

“This reminded me of you.” from this list

Rebecca Shepard x Kaidan Alenko; ME3, Citadel DLC; 1548 words

Spending the first few days of mandatory shore leave chasing your own clone and recovering your stolen ship was not how Rebecca Shepard had envisioned the time off. She hadn’t expected Anderson to give her his apartment either, but she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead she decided to spend the time as ordered: off duty while she caught up with friends, took it easy, and spent quality time with Kaidan. Granted her shore leaves had always been hit or miss on whether other people enjoyed them with her but Kaidan was different. She knew him. Really knew him and thought she might be able to find things they both enjoyed doing.

That’s why she stopped into a random store in one of the lower wards market districts. It screamed Kaidan Alenko. The ward itself was home to a mixture of races and was a prime area for tourists to frequent. And that was what she was at the moment. Not the Commander, not the Savior of the Citadel, not the galaxy’s beacon of hope against the impossible. Just a tourist looking for a gift for her nerdy boyfriend and did that shop fit the bill. Thankful she actually listened to his random facts at all hours of the day and night, she was sure to find something he liked.

The whole concept of the store was based on interesting and unique things from Earth’s past. As one of the newer species on the galactic scene, humanity was still a curiosity to some. The oddities of Earth’s pop culture from past centuries permeated the shelves, racks, and display spaces in the specialty shop.

Shepard roamed the aisles looking for a specific pop culture icon from the late 20th-early 21st centuries. Surely they had something related to his nerdy obsession. After all he had been through and all he did for her, he deserved something familiar, something comforting, something distinctly Kaidan.

Finally at the very back of the store, she found it. All sorts of items: tee shirts, hats, figures, plushies, OSDs with movies and TV series, models, and much more. But one thing in particular caught her attention. A box containing what looked to be a collection of several items. Ones she knew Kaidan would love.

Her target acquired, the Commander- turned- tourist quickly paid for it and made her way back to the apartment. If she were lucky, Kaidan would still be out with Cortez, Vega, and Joker at the arcade. She could wrap it and surprise him.

Hopefully…

~~~~~

“Hey, Becca! I’m back,” Kaidan’s voice called from the living room.

“I’m in here,” she shouted from the bar area. The large box sat on the coffee table in front of her as The Battlespace played on the large vid screen but muted.

The Major rounded the wall partition as he commented, “Joker still wants to have that party. Tried all evening to get Steve, Vega, and me to convince you to agree to it.”

“I told him I’d think about it,” Rebecca groaned from the couch.

“Yeah, well you know Joker. He gets an idea and won’t let go until he gets his way,” Alenko replied as he came to stand by the couch, the artificial fire crackling behind him.

“Yeah. I know but all I want to do right now is spend time with you,” she said tossing her red hair over her shoulder. “Alone.”

“I’m all yours tonight, Becca,” he assured her as his whiskey-colored eyes flickered to the coffee table. “I promise.”

Shepard grinned. “Something catch your eye, Major?”

“You always have my eye, Shep,” he said with a lop-sided grin.

“You’ve gotten better with your flirting,” she noted as he approached the table.

“Who said I was flirting? I thought I was simply stating a fact,” Alenko commented, winking at her.

“Kaidan,” the Commander murmured as she felt herself blush lightly.

“It’s true,” the L2 biotic said as he pointed to the box. “But what it that?”

“It’s a box.”

“Becca.”

“It’s a wrapped box.”

“Shepard.”

“It’s a wrapped box with something allegedly inside it.”

“Rebecca Jane Shepard!”

The Commander laughed as she held up her hands as if in surrender. “Okay! Okay! No reason to sound like my dad.”

Kaidan made a face. “Don’t ever say that again. That’s just…weird.”

Rebecca laughed again as she motioned towards the box. “It’s for you.”

“Me?” the Major asked in surprise. “From who?”

She frowned as she replied indignantly, “Me, Alenko. Unless you have other women gifting you things behind my back.”

“Hell, no,” the second human Specter exclaimed as he reached for the box.

“No guys either?” she teased as he sat down on the couch beside her.

With the box in his lap, he gave her an incredulous look. “Sweetheart, while I do like both men and women, I only love you.”

Shepard was left speechless by his honesty as he quickly kissed her cheek. He gave her a grin and began to unwrap the box. Her once emotionally reserved Lt. was not so any longer, and it suited him. It suited him very well.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You always say that, and you know I’m gonna do it anyway.”

“Yeah, well I still think you don’t have to…”

The Commander grinned as he went silent. His fingers traced over the edges of the box as his eyes flickered from one image to another on the side facing him. She leaned forward to look at him better. His expression was one of surprise and something she couldn’t place.

“I found it at an Earth novelty shop in one of the wards,” she said softly.

Kaidan nodded as she continued to look over the box.

“This,” Rebecca said motioning to the focus of his attention, “reminded me of you.”

“I had some like these when I was a kid,” Kaidan murmured as he opened the box. “My mom found them somewhere. Used to put them together to distract me from my biotics when I got frustrated with them.”

Shepard smiled as he pulled out several smaller boxes, each of a different model kit. She watched as his smile widened as he told her the name of each ship the model was supposed to build. A look of fondness for a childhood memory on his handsome features the entire time.

“This one’s an X-wing—Red 5. Luke’s ship…This is the Millennium Falcon—a YT-1300…Ummm, this is a TIE Fighter and a…TIE Advanced—Vader’s I think…A Star Destroyer—Venator class used during the Clone Wars and a…Oh wow! It’s the Ebon Hawk!”

Shepard recognized all the ships except the last one from binge watching the Star Wars movies and series with him in the hospital. “Come again?”

He turned to her excitedly. “It’s the ship from a couple of Star Wars video games. I had an emulator for them growing up. I might still have it…”

“So it’s a good thing?”

He nodded with a broad grin. “It was a fun couple of games. I can show them to you some time but…”

“But what?”

“Well, my mom used to say the pilot of the ship sounded a little like me,” he said rubbing the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. “It might be weird.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s just one more thing that can remind me of you. You are weird in a special kind of way.”

Kaidan gazed at her happily. “This mean a lot to me, Becca. Just like you do. Thank you.”

“I’m glad,” she said looping an arm though his.

He went back to inspecting the model kits as she laid her head against his shoulder.

“You know,” she began, “when you get those put together I think there might be enough room to display them in the case in the loft.”

He turned to her. “You’d put my model kits from Star Wars with your models of real ships?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Umm, because they’re not—”

“Not what, Kaidan?” she asked. “They are important to you and you are important to me.”

He looked at her with cynically. “While that does sound sweet and sincere, is that really the only reason?”

“Well, of course it is,” she replied. Shepard paused and winced. “Welllll, that and I think most of them look badass…except for the TIE. It looks like a messed-up eyeball.”

Alenko laughed. “Oddly enough that was a nickname the Rebels and New Republic pilots gave them. The TIE/LN starfighter and the TIE/D Defender specifically. I—”

“Alright, my handsome nerd, I get you are excited and I’m glad you like them, but I thought we were spending the night together. Alone. Do I need to be jealous of the model kits?”

“No, Becca. I’m all yours,” he said setting them aside as he leaned over. Kissing her, he suggested, “We could watch the movies though.”

“Hmmmm,” she said. “We could as long as it isn’t too distracting.”

“If you want my full attention all you ever have to do it ask.”

“I know. And I love you. You and all of your nerdiness too.”

“Oh good. I was worried…”

“Kaidan.”

“I love you too.”

She smiled. Rebecca would always love him. Everything about him. Everything.  

[worm-man-gaming]

My top 10 list for who I WANT as DLC in Smash

We’re reaching the end of an era. Smash Ultimate’s DLC is going to end eventually, with four more characters to be announced. They could release some kind of ‘Echo Pack’ in the future, which I would be hyped about (They didn’t really do much with the echo fighter mechanic), But I have a feeling that after this, there won’t be any more. So I wanted to post my list of who I, specifically, would like to see in the game.

This is not based off of likelihood, as some of these characters probably don’t even have a chance of making it in. I just think they would be neat.

Full list under the cut, counting up from #10

- Papyrus (UNDERTALE)

Okay, so hear me out.

We got the Sans mii skin, and that was by far one of the most popular mii skins since Geno, probably. People were more excited for the Sans mii skin than Terry Bogard and maybe even Banjo. They probably made a lot more money than expected from it. So why not try it again? 

And while Sans is the popular character, he definitely is not a fighter. He’s a lazy, laid back character that just wants to have fun, but he’s far too weak to go into an all-out battle without risking his own safety. 

HOWEVER!

Sans’s brother, Papyrus, is the polar opposite. He’s dedicated, hardworking, and can take quite a few hits. He’s got plenty of moveset opportunity. And it would be another indie rep, which is really really good for someone like me, who wants to go into game design. 

Another thing: When we got the Cuphead mii skin, we also got Cuphead Spirits. They could have easily done that with Undertale, there’s enough characters. So maybe they’re saving it for a DLC Spirit board? I don’t know, just a theory.

He would be primarily a ground-based fighter, with projectiles that could crawl across the stage like that one sparky item. He could also use his blue attack, which could be good for an easy spike on airborne characters. And, who knows, maybe for his final smash we could finally see his special attack.

I really enjoy Undertale, and seeing Sans as a mii skin made me super happy. Getting a whole fighter from the series would be even cooler. 

- Paper Mario (Super Paper Mario)

Nintendo, we’ve got three whole Links in this game, but only two Marios? Preposterous!

With that being said, Super Paper Mario was one of my favorite Wii games (Although I didn’t play it until very recently) And it’s a very popular series. He’s essentially his own character separate from Mario at this point. The games have so much lore put into them, and we already have a Paper Mario Stage in the game, so maybe we could get Dimentio’s dimension, or the Origami Palace or something.

He’s been in enough games and done enough crazy things to earn a pretty diverse kit for himself. He could use Pixils, the 1000-Fold arms, or even summon Paper Bowser, Peach and Luigi for some attacks. 

I think he would be super fun to play. I’m terrible at vanilla Mario, but I think Paper Mario would be a good fit for the game AND be a super good-feeling character. However, this comes from a G&W main, so take from that what you will.

- King Boo (Luigi’s Mansion)

I 👏 want 👏 more 👏 villains 👏 in 👏 Smash! 👏 

King Boo is a staple of the Luigi’s Mansion series as well as being an enemy for Mario in some games like Sunshine. He’s the Big Bad Evil Guy for Luigi. 

And I DEFINITELY want him in this game. 

It’s not so much the character himself, although King Boo is really good, I want him in for his kit. Think about it. A large character but with floaty jumps like Jigglypuff and an aerial based moveset AND a teleport? He’d be ruthless. And really fun. And that’s what I’m looking for in a character.

- BOTW Zelda (Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity)

Yes, I know. “But Worm, the Zelda we have now is annoying and awful, and you say you want ANOTHER one?!?!?” Well, you’re half right.

Yes, Zelda is known for her darkness-sealing powers in BOTW, BUT, in the recent Age of Calamity game, her moveset for almost have the game revolves around the Sheikah Slate. She uses it creatively, hopping around on ice and whirling metal slabs around with a magnet. And I think that would be a SUPER cool moveset for Smash Bros. 

And who knows, maybe they would call back to older games and allow her to switch to using her powers, like Zelda used to change into Sheik. 

She would be very technical, with her attacks being powerful but with some startup, almost similar to Snake of all characters. And for her final smash she could use a Weak Point Smash or they could bring back Bow of Light (Which was MUCH more fair than the current one, by the way). She’d be fun, and that’s what I want.

- Maxwell (Scribblenauts)

Maxwell is from Scribblenauts, a game where you have to solve puzzles by writing words in a notebook and those words coming to life. So he’s work in the same way in Smash, although much more randomized. 

For his neutral special, maybe he could write a random item and it shows up in his hand. That would be funny AND cool, and it’s possible (because Peach does the same thing with Turnips!). He could use projectiles but also have plenty of close range options, and for a Final Smash he could use the Meteor, which in the game clears the screen of living things. Brutal! He also uses Adjectives on both his creations AND himself, so maybe for some moves he could effect the other opponent with a poison or freeze effect.

Would he be banned in competitive play? Yes. Would he still be fun? Definitely!

- Jibanyan (Yo-Kai Watch)

I may be in the minority here, but I REALLY liked Yo-Kai Watch as a game. It may seem like a cheap Pokemon ripoff, but the gameplay is nothing like it at all. You’re given a map to explore and various objectives within the map, and the battle system is really creative and fun. It’s actually the inspiration for some of my own games. Yo-Kai watch deserved more credit than it got.

Jibanyan is the poster boy for the series (and also has the saddest backstory of any cat-based character ever), and mainly attacks with both his paws and fire attacks. He could have fire-based moves and would almost play similar to Pichu. His final smash could be Paws of Fury, his soultimate move, that would hit like Donkey Kong’s final smash as a flurry of blows. 

This series is really well made and thought out, and it deserves more than it got. So please put my boy in Smash, I’m begging you.

- Specter Knight (Shovel Knight: Specter of Torment)

Okay, yes. I know Shovel Knight is the main character of this series. But again, hear me out.

Specter Knight is either the first or second boss you encounter in the main Shovel Knight game, and he’s already got some moveset potential from that alone. However, he also had his own story mode, Specter of Torment, ad let me say, that is a phenomenal game. I’d go so far as to say it’s better than the main Shovel Knight game itself. His controls are quick and easy to pick up. And he has a whole bunch of special abilities you can get as the game progresses, such as a boomerang or even a shadow clone. 

His smash moveset would pull most of the specials from the unlockable items he can get, leaving room for an incredible spacing game as well as a good aerial defense, as Specter Knight can both float and do a Dash Slash through enemies for some extra air time. 

Shovel Knight is the main character, but Specter Knight obviously has the most soul put into him (Pun not intended). And, again, he’d be fun to control. 

- Master Hand / Fighter Hand (Super Smash Bros. Series)

This is mostly me just being mad at the game for giving us a playable Master Hand, but only once. We couldn’t have even gotten a Master Mode in extras, huh? 

Yes, yes, I know Master Hand is the staple boss character for Smash Bros. He’s been in every game, for crying out loud! I’m honestly surprised it took them this long to give us a playable Master Hand. But this leads into my idea:

A new hand, made specifically to fight in Smash Bros, called Fighter Hand.

Yes, it’s cheesy. Yes, it’s stupid. But hey, it would be fun.

He would have scaled-down versions of Master Hand’s moves, with mainly projectile-based specials and tilts. He would be floaty, although introducing a flying character would be interesting to see how they balance it. For a final smash, maybe they could bring back Master Core from Smash 4 for a Giga Bowser-esque punch.

- The Knight (Hollow Knight)

Hollow Knight is an Indie Game that I never finished (I’m working on it, okay?) that’s kind of like Metroid in the way it’s played. It's also a very popular game, and I like bugs, so they get the number two spot because I like him.

And the special Soul moves you unlock translate well into Specials. Platformers always translate well into Smash, so he would work very well in the game. I don’t know what their moveset would be (as I haven’t finished the game yet), but I know they would be a small, fast character that mainly uses their nail to attack like a sword.

And my most wanted character in Super Smash Brothers: Ultimate is...

- Beatrix LeBeau (Slime Rancher)

Okay, look. I’m aware this has zero chance of happening. Slime Rancher was never the most popular game, and Nintendo has never mentioned it ever. But it’s one of my favorite games, and I just think Beatrix would be an incredible character in Smash Bros. 

She would use her jetpack to recover, she would shoot plorts as projectiles, use he vacpac to suck up both fighters and projectiles, and maybe shoot a boom slime as an explosive and unpredictable bouncing hazard. Her smash attacks and aerials would use the various slimes you can vacuum up and feed in the game, like the Rad Slime and Rock Slimes. She would be really good offstage and onstage with her weakness being her speed. 

She could bring a LOT to this series, and it would be another inspirational indie rep. And, hey, Minecraft Steve got in. Who knows at this point.

Anyway, there’s my list. Feel free to argue with me or explain why Geno should be on my list (I will not care) in the comments or reblogs, this list is not changing unless I play some new game that I feel should be represented. 

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- Rock n’ Roll

This one is definitely a little late.  Took me a while to write it, and I had to make several changes.  It might be a bit awkward in parts, but that is because I have tried to portray each character faithfully and tried to have them do what they would actually do in the battle scenes.  As per usual, I own none of these characters except for Thomas Drake.  Enjoy!  (Side note: I figured out how to use the “read more” so this won’t be as long in the dash!)   

In the hangar of the Normandy, Adam Vir and Master Chief waited.  The Chief was currently flipping through everyone’s communication channels.  

“Do you really trust this guy, Captain?”  That was the internal communications of the Enterprise.

“No.  And his group of armsmen is putting me on edge.  But we control this ship and we have transporters and they don’t.”  The rest coming from Kirk’s crew was all military and technological jargon.  He flipped to the Apocalypse's internal communications.

“So, the question is: since it’s a fruit, tomato, mixed with sugar, is ketchup a smoothie?”  That was Drake.  Of course it was.  

“Well, by that definition, yes,” said an unfamiliar voice.

“But ketchup has vinegar in it.  And if you think smoothies have vinegar, well, then you really need to reevaluate your life’s choices,” replied someone else.

“An excellent point!  Indeed, what is a smoothie?  Does vinegar belong in your smoothies?” said Drake.  Master Chief shook his head and changed channels.  He had a feeling that if he listened to that conversation for much longer, his head would implode.    

“How did he get that stuff?  Twenty suits of carapace armor, five crates of hot-shot lasguns, ten crates of normal lasguns, a crate of chainswords, and two power swords, all with Imperial markings!”  That was Kasteen, commander of the Valhallans.  “And, Cain, what was that thing?  An Exitus rifle?  I’ve never heard of it.”

“That last one’s the one that worries me.  The reason I know of it is because of my work with Inquisitor Vail,” replied Cain.

“Shit.  You think he stole it from the Inquisition?”

“The only people who have access to those are Inquisitors and Vindicares.”

“Oh he’s beyond frakked.”  The Chief cut the communications as Shepard walked into the hangar bay.  He was wearing a full set of black combat armor with a heavy helmet.  Vir, the other occupant of the hangar, looked up from where he was fiddling with his own armor.  

“Shepard.  Pleased to see you.”   His one good green eye gleamed from under a shock of blond hair.  “Are we ready to go?”  

“Give me a sec.”  Shepard turned to the hooded and violet masked figure that was present with him at the Scoundrel’s first meeting.  “Tali?” he asked the figure.  “Are they going to know we’re coming?”  

“No, commander.”  It was a feminine voice, with a strange and slightly mechanical accent that emanated from the suit.  “The engineers aboard the Enterprise and Apocalypse are quite good at what they do.  It would be interesting to know what all these new people have!  Technology-wise, I mean.  The possibilities of-”  Shepard cut her off.

“Good to know, Tali.”

“Right.  Sorry.  Got carried away.”  

“If you’d like, I’ll give you a tour of the Apocalypse,” cut in Drake’s suave voice over their earpieces.  “That, of course, extends to the rest of you.”  Master Chief keyed his comm.

“You’ve been listening to us this whole time?” he asked.

“Well, I can’t talk about vinegar smoothies forever, now, can I?  To get more to the point, Cain and I are in position, and Cooper and Quill are on their way.  This thing all depends on you, so I suggest you get down here before they notice fifty Imperial Guardsmen and fifteen mercenary armsmen hanging outside their front gate.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going.”  They boarded the shuttle, Master Chief having to hunch his massive frame to avoid banging into the doors.  The ride to the muddy-brown planet below them was smoot and silent.  From the window of the transport, they could see the silhouettes of the teams’ starships above them, gleaming in the weak yellow light of the nearby sun.  The atmospheric entry was much smoother than either Vir or Master Chief had ever felt, and the shuttle landed on the planet much faster than they expected.  The shuttle’s three occupants disembarked quickly, professionally, and set out in a trot to the distant specter of the military base.  They arrived on schedule, and found a small electrical access passage, barely tall enough to squeeze through, exactly where Drake’s map said it was.  

Drake checked the timer on his wrist computer.  His armsmen and several Imperial Guardsmen cluster around him, waiting expectantly.

“And...nine minutes and twenty-five seconds for Shepard to get his ass in gear and get planetside.  If you had more than ten minutes, pay up.”  There were grumblings in the crowd, while money and liquor exchanged hands.  One of the armsmen looked up.

“Captain, how long for the other timer?”  Drake checked his wrist again.  

“...nineteen minutes and twenty six...twenty seven seconds since we got here, and they still haven’t noticed over a hundred armed hostiles sitting outside their front gate.”  He made a clicking noise with his tongue.  “Sloppy.  If you bet under twenty minutes, you're probably going to be losing something.”  He glanced over to where Cain and Jurgen were leaning against the compound’s outer wall.  “How are you two holding up?”

Cain looked up from a mug of steaming liquid in his hands.  “Fine.  These people still haven’t noticed us?”  Drake snorted.

“No.  I’m really good at what I do, and they’re really bad.  Honestly, I’m not quite sure how they managed to steal the thing we’re after in the first place.”

On the other side of the compound, Peter Quill paced.  

“What’s taking them so long?” he hissed.  Gamora, his green-skinned second in command, looked up from where she was sitting and sharpening a sword.  

“Relax.  We’re fine.”  

“I know…” Quill trailed off, paced more, then turned back.  “Do you think that these people know what they’re doing?”  Cooper, who had been silently checking his weapons up until this point, spoke.

“Shepard is supposed to be a hero, and a special forces operative, based on Drake’s briefing.”  Noticing Quill’s blank look, he gave a very good incredulous stare, considering he had his helmet on.  “You didn’t read it?”

“Uh...maybe.”  Cooper and Gamora both shook their heads.  

“Shepard’s is apparently very good.  At least, according to Drake.  And the problem with that is we don’t know if Drake is telling the truth about anything.”  Quill considered this.  He did have a point.  

Shepard, Vir, and Master Chief squeezed through the narrow metal electrical duct and into a small, dimly lit concrete room in the basement of the compound.  They brushed plaster dust off themselves before looking up.  Shepard tapped his wrist and some sort of glowing orange hologram sprang to life, covering his let forearm.  The others leaned in and recognized it as Drake’s map of the compound.

“Right.  So we are here,” Shepard highlighted the small room.  “The item is here.”  He traced a path throughout the sun-levels to a large main room in the center of the basement.  “We need to stay low and follow this path.”  Shepard glanced up and pointed at Master Chief.  “You’re a super-soldier, so you’re taking point.”  The Chief nodded.

“Copy that.”  He unslung his weapon, dropped into a crouch, and proceeded forward, the two others following him.  They walked through the concrete and metal halls, weapons at the ready, searching for any sign of life.  Despite being over seven feet tall and clad in bulky armor, Master Chief moved with the deadly silence of a professional soldier.  Twice they were almost caught, but due to their superior training and skills, they melted into the shadows as enemy patrols passed by.  Through more hallways they made their way, hearing the laughter and occasionally fights of mercenaries.  The enemy here was no more alert than they were on the main level, allowing the three to pass through the labyrinthian passageways undetected.  They reached a large open area, where Master Chief suddenly gestured for a stop.  Peering past the Chief’s massive shoulder, Shepard could see why.  The open room was littered with mercenaries, lounging around with weapons still holstered.  By his estimate, there were about twenty of them.  Too many to take on without raising the alarm.  Shepard cursed quietly under his breath, then pressed a finger to his ear.

“Drake,” he hissed.  “We’re blocked.  There’s a group in our way.  We need a distraction.”    

“Distraction you say?”  The three could feel Drake’s smile over the audio.  “Give me twenty.”  

Outside the Compound

Drake slid up to the compound gate’s outside audio panel.  He slid a knife under a small plate at the base of the panel and slid a small rectangular device from his belt into a slot.  

“Let’s see here…” he muttered to himself.  “Are you stupid enough to connect the PA system to the main computer?  Yes...yes you are.”  He tapped several buttons on his wrist computer and took a deep breath.  

Inside the Compound

Shepard and Vir jumped as Drake’s voice crackled from the building’s PA system.  

“Attention assorted idiots.  I am Captain Thomas Drake.  You may have heard of me.  I am here, waiting just outside the front gate.  I am going to kill you all and take back the black box.  Come and get me.”  The message abruptly terminated, and cheery music started playing.  

“Private Perks is a funny little coger with a smile, a funny smile.  Five feet none he’s an artful little dodger with a smile, a funny smile.  Flush or broke he’ll have his little joke…”  Shepard, Vir, and even the superhuman Master Chief started at the loudspeaker as the music played.  

“Drake, what the hell are you doing?” asked Shepard.  

“Creating a distraction,” replied Drake, just as cheerfully as the song.  

“Telling the mercenaries to come and kill you and playing Smile, Smile, Smile is not a distraction,” stated Master Chief flatly.  

“You sure about that?  Look in front of you,” said Drake.  Sure enough, the mercenaries occupying the room had grabbed their weapons and were hustling up the stairs to the main level.  Shepard’s mouth opened and closed like a landed fish, then he sighed.  

“Fine, let’s go.”  As the last of the mercenaries trailed from the room, the three Scoundrels slipped by on their way to the item.  

Outside the Facility

Drake glanced at his wrist computer and nodded at a group of armsmen.  

“Four guards in the compound beyond the gate.  There, there, there, and there.”  He gestured at four spots beyond the wall.  The armsmen nodded and took positions near the gate.  “Overriding and opening the gate in three...two...one go!”  Drake pressed a button and the massive armored gate swung open.  The armsmen stepped forward and fired.  The four mercenary guards pitched forward, dead.  Drake nodded at the remaining Guardsmen and armsmen.  “Right. Through the gate and set up a firing position.  They’ll be coming, probably disorganized, from the main door.”  He pointed at a large armored set of double doors that led inside the main facility.  The soldiers nodded and readied their weapons.  Drake pressed another button on his wrist.  

On the other side of the Compound

“Cooper, Quill, this is Drake.  The mercenaries are going to attack our position while Shepard, Chief, and Vir steal the thing.  Get behind them.”  

“Copy that,” replied Cooper with a nod.  He looked at the large wall in front of them, then took a step back and jumped.  Thrusters on the back of his suit activated and propelled him onto the wall.  He turned his head to Quill and Gamora.  “You two coming?”  Quill scoffed.  

“I can do that.”  He pressed a small button on the top of his boots, and the heels lit up with the orange wash of jet boosters.  Without the grace of Cooper he landed wobbly on the top of the wall.  “See?  Easy.”  Gamora muttered “showoffs” under her breath and accepted Quill’s offered hand to boost her over the wall.  Cooper dropped into the interior compound without a sound.  

“Right.  This way.”  

On the Other Side of the Compound

The heavy armored doors opened and mercenaries, in various stages of preparedness, scrambled out, only to be met with the full firepower of one hundred and three well trained soldiers.  The Imperials’ lasguns spat crimson death that flickered through the muddy air to impact with chests, legs, arms, and heads, burning away flesh and vaporizing the internal organs of the unprotected.  The fire from the Apocalypse’s armsmen was no less lethal.  The boom hiss thump of plasma infused ammunition contrasted with the whining crack of lasguns as small blue and purple explosions blew apart the mercenaries.  Within seconds, the attacking mercenaries were dead.  

“Let’s go!” called Drake as he led his armsmen into the interior.  Cain nodded at the Guard.  

“Forward.  I’ll take up the rear.”  

In the Basement

The mercenaries vault, the storage place of the item Drake was contracted to retrieve, stood in silence over the barren concrete room.  Harsh yellow lights glared from the walls and seemed to be swallowed by the shadows in the corners.  Two guards, weapons held at the ready, stood in front of the vault.  The air split with two cracks.  The two guards fell, two holes blown through their heads.  Master Chief, weapon at the ready, entered the room, searching carefully for any other enemies.  There were none.  He nodded at his two companions.  

“Clear.”  He shouldered his rifle.  “Now how the hell do we get that door open?”  Shepard stepped up to the vault door.  A small, rectangular computer was built into the wall.  Shepard pressed his forearm, and once more the orange hologram appeared.  He tapped the hologram several more times, and the vault door sprang open.  

“Impressive,” noted Vir.  

“I gotta get me one of those,” muttered Master Chief.  They stepped through the circular entrance of the vault, and into the room beyond.  The room was...unimpressive.  It was cluttered with objects, weapons, and boxes of no discernable value.  Master Chief keyed his comm.  “Drake?  We’re in the vault.  What are we looking for?”   There was a whine then the boom of a plasma discharge, which culminated into an abrupt, high pitched scream.  Drake’s ragged breathing could be heard on the other end of the line.  

“What?  Sorry.  Uh...you’re looking for a black box, about half a meter by half a meter.  Should be somewhere pretty prominent.”  

“Here it is!” said Vir.  He held up a black box of the exact length and width.  

“Drake, we have it.”  There was a scream and the crackle of Imperial lasgun fire on the other end of the comm.  “What is going on up there?”  

“We’re fighting the mercenaries…” Boom!  Hiss!  Crack!  “...shit.  We appear to be winning at the moment.  Get up here and kill or capture anyone who gets in your way.”  

“Copy that.”  Master Chief looked at Shepard and Vir.  “Let’s move.”

Cooper, Quill, and Gamora advanced stealthily through the twisting passages of the mercenaries’ compound, weapons at the ready.  For some reason, there was absurdly cheerful music blasting through the PA system.  If Cooper had to guess, he would say that Thomas Drake most definitely had a hand in this.  He sighed to himself, shaking his head, then abruptly stopped and held out his hand.  Gamora instantly stopped and crouched, weapons at the ready.  Quill almost ran into him.  Ahead of the group were two guards, rifles out, looking more competent than any opposition they’d seen today.  Quill raised a gun, but Gamora pushed it down.

“Quiet.  If we go loud, they might have time to radio that we’re here.”  Quill nodded, magining to look mollified behind the red lenses of his helmet.  

“Right.  My bad.  What do we do?”  

“I got this,” replied Cooper.  Before either Quill or Gammora could say anything, Cooper tapped a device on his wrist.  Immediately, his form shimmered and distorted, turning translucent.  He took off running, and both watching pairs of eyes lost track of him.  Gammora thought she saw a faint blur of movement at the top of the hall, near the ceiling, but dismissed it as her eyes playing tricks.  And, just as they started wondering where Cooper had gone, he appeared just as suddenly and silently as he had appeared, this time directly behind the guards.  

Quietly and casually, he stepped behind the first guard, wrapped his arm around the guard’s throat in a chokehold, drew the guard’s sidearm from its holster, and unceremoniously shot both guards through the head.  Quick, brutal, efficient.  Cooper tossed the pistol aside and hefted his own rifle.  

“Let’s keep moving.”  Gamora stared at him.

“Impressive.  I need one of those things.  What are they called?”

“Invisibility Cloak or Pilot’s Cloak.  You can get them pretty easily from where I come from.  Or you could ask Drake.  I’m sure he stole a bunch of them.”  

Drake’s plasma gun spat a ball of molten death at an enemy mercenary.  It melted through the mercenary’s thin armor, blasted through his bones, and disintegrated his organs.  The mercenary only had time for a half scream, half whimper, before his chest was opened all the way through and he dropped to the ground, dead.  One of the Imperial Guardsmen whistled appreciatively.  

“A real plasma gun.  Can’t believe you have one.”  Drake grinned beneath his helmet.

“Cost me a pretty penny.  But definitely worth it, I can assure you.”  His earpiece crackled to life.  “Hang on.”  

“Drake?  Are you behind the music?” asked Quill’s voice.

“Why yes, I am.  Do you approve of my selection?” Drake replied.

“Actually, I was wondering...do you take requests?”  

“Of course I do!  What is your request?”

“Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede,” replied Quill with no hesitation.  

“An excellent choice!  Give me a moment.”  Drake pressed another button on his wrist computer and spoke into it with an excellent approximation of a radio D.J.

“Ladies and gentlemen, that has been Pack Up Your Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag and Smile, Smile, Smile, an old favorite from the First World War, written by George Henry Powell.  And next up, by listener request, is Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede!  If you would like to place a request, even if you’re on the opposing side, please, feel free to contact me.”  He cut the transmission.  One of the Valhallans turned to her sergeant.  

“This guy’s weird.”  

“Eh, could be worse.  We could be fighting tyranids.  Or necrons,” the sergeant interjected with a shudder.  

Master Chief turned to look at the nearest PA speaker.

“Well, this is definitely something new.”  He turned to his two companions.  “You two don’t seem very surprised by this.”

“Honestly, I am not surprised by anything at this point,” Shepard said with a shrug.  He turned to look at Vir.  “What about you?”

“Happens to me all the time.  What’s a battle without some good music?”  

Jack Cooper shook his head incredulously as the song piped throughout the compound.  

“I have seen a lot over my time in the Militia, but yet I have never been in a battle more bizarre.”  He sighed and fired a burst of shots at a mercenary.  “Oh, well.”  

The Imperial Guard and the Apocalypse’s armsmen, led by Cain and Drake, sliced their way through the enemies ranks like a knife through wet paper.  They stood no chance.  Anything not eliminated by lasguns or assault rifles was obliterated by Drake’s plasma gun.  Drake was leading the charge, cutting down everyone who opposed him with methodical precision.  Drake turned, the eye slits of his helmet winking cerulean blue.  

“Well, I think we’ve-”  He never had a chance to finish, as a particularly large mercenary barreled past a corner and tackled Drake.  Squeezed underneath the larger man, Drake could not get enough leverage to shove him off or hit him hard.  The two combatants rolled and grappled with each other, the armsmen and Guardsmen daring not to fire for fear of hitting Drake.  The large mercenary grimaced and tried to slip his hands under Drake’s helmet to try and throttle him to death.  Drake reached up and placed his left hand on the mercenary's chest.

“Overcharge!” he yelled to the air.  A sharp whine filled the air, then the crack of discharging electricity.  The mercenary flew backwards, twitched spasmodically for several seconds, then lied still.  Drake got up to his feet shakily.  “Well, that was a...shocking experience.”   Several of the soldiers groaned.  “C’mon.  Forward!”  They ran through the maze of dimly-lit hallways, slaughtering anyone they met, until they got to a large room filled with computers overlooking the passageways of the basement.  It looked to be a control room of some sorts, and it was absolutely packed with enemies.  They seemed to realize the superiority of the Scoundrel’s firepower, and so, instead of trying to fight them bullet to bullet, they charged.  

Cooper, Quill, and Gamora rounded the corner of the hallway at a run.  The screeched to a stop when they saw what was happening in the large room in front of them.  A massive group of enemy mercenaries were battling it out, hand to hand, with Drake and Cain’s forces.  

“Well, we can’t shoot for fear of hitting our own side, so…” Quill trailed off.

“So we take them from behind,” replied Cooper.  “You two know how to fight hand to hand?”  In response, Gamora drew a sword.

“Well, I guess that’s a yes,” said Cooper.  He looked over to see a heavily muscled woman bodily pick up and throw Drake through one of the glass panes overlooking the basement.  “Oh boy.  Better get in there.”  They charged.  

Vir, Shepard, and Master Chief emerged from the basement’s tunnels and into a pit-like room overlooked by glass panels.  Suddenly, one of the panels shattered and Drake flew through and landed on the concrete floor fifteen feet below.  He groaned and slowly got to his feet.

“Oh hey there.  Fancy meeting you here.”  Master Chief held out a hand to steady him.  

“Are you alright?”  Drake cracked his neck.

“Maybe.  Hopefully.  Doesn’t much matter.  Let's get up there.”  

“If you’re really O.K.”  

“Yep, I’m good.  What’s the fastest way up?”  Shepard pointed to a set of stairs, but before he could say anything, Master Chief took a running leap, grabbed the broken window’s ledge, and hauled himself up.

“Or...or that will work.”  Vir shrugged and made the same running jump at the same window.  With a whir of powerful prosthetics, he made it in much the same way Master Chief had.  Not to be outdone, Drake jumped for the same window.  He only made it halfway up the wall, but grips built into his forearms and greaves took over and he hauled himself up.  Shepard still stood at the bottom and shook his head.  

“Ok then.  I guess I’ll just take the stairs.”  

The vast majority of the wild melee was focused near the middle of the room.  There, the mercenaries desperately fought against the soldiers of the Imperial Guard.  The mercenaries had thought to take the enemy off balance by charging them, a tactic seldom used in an age of automatic and plasma weaponry, but had not counted on soldiers of other universes, used to fighting in different ways.  The Guardsmen had fixed bayonets, and now wielded the twenty inch blades with lethal efficiency.  However, despite the Guard doing most of the fighting, it was by far the Scoundrel captains who garnered the most attention.  Each fought with their own style, was a death-dealing whirlwind.  

Master Chief fought with a precision that only a genetically enhanced super-soldier could.  A strange, teardrop-shaped  plasma sword was held aloft in one hand, and he brought it down with murderous exactness.  Each stroke was backed by the massive strength of his seven foot frame, and gut through armor and bone as if it didn’t exist.  He was a one man killing machine; he was a SPARTAN super-warrior.  None stood in his way for long.  

Ciaphas Cain used the same practical and lethal fighting style as he did in his duel with the Drev.  His chainsword hummed and its teeth whirred as it cut through muscle and sinew, raising great gouts of blood into the air.  In his other hand he held a laspistol, which cracked off shots at any who were beyond the reach of the deadly teeth of his sword.  

Jack Cooper fought with grace and style.  He danced around the enemy, using the extra speed and mobility of his Pilot’s suit.  His combat knife slid between ribs and through throats, and shots from his sidearm rang out, blowing ragged holes through heads and torsos.  His legs lashed out in the form of powerful kicks, still with a Pilot's grace, and landed on kidneys and knees, knocking his opponents to the ground where he finished them at his leisure.  

Adam Vir fought with a spear, a most unusual weapon of choice.  Nevertheless, he was just as deadly as the rest.  The spear sand through the air, catching and impaling his foes.  It twirled in intricate patterns, and blocked and flicked aside incoming attacks as if they didn’t exist.  He lunged forward towards a panacing mercenary, twisting the spear at the last second so as not to get it stuck in the suction of flesh, then spun around to block an incoming attack.  

Thomas Drake fought dirty.  No trick was too low or underhanded.  His left hand crackled with electricity, stunning and killing any he punched.  A keen-bladed knife was in his right, and he stabbed groins, gouged eyes, and slit throats with impunity.  He bellowed reactive insults while he fought, calling in to question his opponent’s lineage and stature as he charged and hacked and stabbed.  

And Quill...well...he entered the room at a run, then promptly slipped on a puddle of blood and fell face first into the cold concrete floor.  

The Scoundrels gradually whittled down their enemies, one by one, until there was only a small group, fear in their eyes, huddling against the back wall.  The Scoundrels advanced, weapons drawn, and the mercenaries raised their own, prepared for one last defiant gesture.  Then, the air shimmered and distorted, and Kirk and a group of Enterprise crewmen, weapons drawn, appeared as if from nowhere.  

“Hands up,” said Kirk with probably more amusement than was really necessary.  Slowly, the mercenaries lowered their weapons and put them on the ground.  The Scoundrels looked at each other for a moment before Cooper broke the silence.

“Okay.  That was...underwhelming.”  

“What do we do with them?” asked Shepard, gesturing towards the prisoners.  

“Eh.  I say we just leave ‘em here,” said Drake with a shrug.  The others stared at him with incredulity.  

“Wait, wait...you were the one advocating orbital bombardment earlier!”  

“Well, we have the thing now.  No need to kill them, no need to do anything with them really.   We can just pack up and go.  Leave them here.”  The Scoundrels looked at each other and seemed to reach an agreement.  

“Fine.  Let’s go.”  Kirk looked over to Spock and spoke to him in an undertone.

“You know, this didn’t end that badly.  None of the redshirts died!”  As if on cue, one of the Enterprise’s crewmen, clad in black pants and a red shirt, fell over clutching his chest.  One of the Imperial Guardsmen knelt down to check on him. 

“He’s dead, sir!  I think a heart attack.”  Kirk shook his head.  

“You have got to be kidding me.”

After the mercenaries had been herded in the basement and the Scoundrels’ forces were trailing out of the compound, Cain pulled Drake aside.  

“Drake, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”  

“Of course.  What’s on your mind?”  Cain looked around to make sure no one was listening.  

“Those weapons.  The only way you could have gotten several of them was if you stole them from the Inquisition.”  

“And if I did?” replied Drake.  

“The Inquisition is not an organization you want to steal from.”  Cain loosened his chainsword in its scabbard.  Drake smiled.  

“Funny, actually.  I can.  You see, those weapons I found in a small hidden stash.  Apparently, a rogue and very dead Inquisitor named Filidarus Calzik had hidden them on the very edge of Imperial space.  No one would have ever gone for them, no Imperial would have ever found them.”

“I know of them, now that you’ve told me,” replied Cain, his hands still on his weapons.  Drake laughed, the exact same laugh as when he told the Scoundrels he knew their secrets aboard the Apocalypse.  

“Interestingly enough, weapons were not the only thing I found in that stash.  There was also a computer.  Which is why I know Calzik’s name.  And, on that computer, was...an incomplete manuscript.  An...autobiography.”  Drake smiled again.  “Your autobiography, my dear Cain.”  Cain turned a shade of chalk white.  “Now, consider, if you will, my dear Cain, the fascinating consequences if the contents of that autobiography were to be released to the wider Imperium.  So, yes, I’m quite sure I can get away with stealing from the Inquisition.  Because, no one will ever know anything is missing.  And if they do, they’ll never know it was me, because everyone who knows it was me will not be saying anything about it, now will they?”  With a final parting smile, Drake spun on his heel and strode away, leaving Cain in the semi-darkness of the compound’s hallway.  

That’s it.  Hope you like it.  As per always, feel free to contact me with any complaints, concerns, compliments, questions, requests, or if you just want something cleared up.    

[dommexbritt]

FONDUE FOR TWO W/ SUE SYLVESTER // Fri. Feb 26th release

Hello, and welcome to the first ever and extra special edition of Fondue for Two on the Fondue Pot Podcast. A show where I, your host, Brittany S Pierce will ask the burning cheese melting questions so that you don’t have to. Today we have a line up of parents to shed a little light on their feelings on campus, school policy, and their terrible children... 

Now, first we have a well known alumni, renowned cheerleading coach, and all around bad guy... according to a whole slew of lawsuits but don't expect her lawyers to say so. 

Hello, welcome, I hope your time here this week has been as exciting as it used to be back in your day. Just as a background on you and to start, can you please introduce yourself to our listeners?. Let us know how many children you have attending the school and because you're an alumni, anything about today's campus that looks a little different now than how it used to....

Sue: It's good to be here, Miss Pierce, and thank you for the warm welcome.  First off, before I introduce myself, let me just say that none of those allegations were ever proven in a court of law. 

To the point, though, if your listeners don't know me then they should.  Sue Sylvester, cheerleading icon, one of the most successful coaches in the history of our sport.  I have two children attending this school, although whether I acknowledge them as such depends on their grades.

As for this campus...well, Brittany, frankly it's hideous.  This used to be a place for the elite.  The best of the best.  Scholarships?  What is this, Communist Venezuela?  I'd be willing to accept the kids who can pay for themselves, because why not let them spend their money, that's the American way.  But a scholarship?  Embarrassing.  Those kids drag this entire campus down.

B: You heard that Devereux? Sue Sylvester herself, coming at you. 

I know your daughters. 

SHOUT OUT TO TEDDY SYLVESTER ON THE TINY ECHO MIC~~   

As far as the rest of the campus and scholarships, that seems like a totally weird thing to be bothered by but I know a lot of people in your generation have a lot of anger issues from the prohibition days. I'll try not to ask too many rage inducing questions, to be accommodating. 

But while we are on the topic of progressive and dynamic school changes... In regards to the retesting that has been and continues to be issued, do you have a stance on the new tests validity? This has been a hot topic on campus for months since the holidays last year, and I'd love to get some parent perspective on it.

S: Prohibition?  How old do you think I am, exactly, Brittany?  That was repealed in 1933, and I certainly wasn't around to see it.  Tragic day anyway, this country would have been far better off it weren't filled with alcoholic louts. 

See, a person might think I'd be against something like that - after all, your mark is your mark and it's as simple as that.  But I am in favor of tests.  If someone really doesn't have what it takes to be a Dominant?  Tell them so.  Make them a submissive, slap some cuffs on them, and go on with your life.  And those people who show that they're more than just a submissive?  Good for them!  Upward mobility, Brittany, that's what this country was built on.

B: 1933. Yeah I totally know. This campus must have been, like, an entirely different walk of life back then. 

That is really understanding of you. I bet a lot of the students who are listening that might of retested feel pretty reassured that you think so. 

Follow up question, if you were still a student and faced with a retest yourself do you suspect it would impact your current role?

S: I...was not here in 1933, Brittany.  I wasn't even born. 

As they should be.  They should understand, like everyone else in this great country, that testing is the backbone of education.  If you test well, it means that you're a good student, and simple as that. 

Absolutely not.  I was born a Dominant, I will die a Dominant, and there is no test on Earth I could take that would ever say otherwise.  Sue Sylvester does not fail.

B: Uh-huh.  All of that is a totally interesting theory. 

It's pretty cool to be secure in your role. Would you like to share a fist bump with me on it?

S: A theory?  Brittany, unlike the president I can show you my birth certificate.

 Yes, of course - much more hygienic than a handshake, I believe.

[ * muffled fist bump sounds ] 

B:  Moving on... 

 Any feelings on the class list not including French courses or modeled under typical French curriculum here at Devereux Academy?

S: It's the best decision they could have made.  What was a student in Florida going to need French for?  I'm sure if they wanted to say "I surrender," or ask for cheese and a baguette, they can do that just as easily in a proper language.  And what did their curriculum ever teach them?  How to cut the heads off of women who were only enjoying a delicious piece of cake?

B: OH! Thank you for saying CHEESE.

 [ * buzzer sound ]  

That is the HOT WORD today and lined up perfectly with the fondue pot being just warm enough. Please help yourself. It's my own cheddar gouda blend and there are plenty of dipper items to dip. I recommend the marshmallows... 

The HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] brings the focus in on you personally and I have one very burning question for you that I'm sure a ton of our listers who know anything there is to know about you are on the edge of their seats wondering. 

 Is it true that you are legally married to yourself?

S: I haven't had a proper fondue since the seventies.  And now that I think about it, Dick Cheney never did pay for the vegetables.  

[ muffled chewing sounds ]

 [ loud swallow ] 

That is completely true, in fact.  I have some lovely pictures from the ceremony here, if you'd like to look them over.  Isn't that tracksuit stunning?  I mean, it's more me that's stunning than the tracksuit, but still.

B: Wow..it.. it actually is super good looking. Did you save it for any of your daughters to wear at their wedding?

S: Thank you - I'm glad that you can appreciate how tasteful it was.  I did save it, but not for them - it's in a glass case on a mannequin of my exact proportions in my office at home.

B: Oh, right of course. 

I'd like to also ask, since you're solo-married, would you ever consider entering into a long term claim with yourself as well?

S: Oh god no.  I would never wear a collar for anyone, not even myself.  I can't even stomach the thought of it.

B: Thank you for answering those. That was the HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] and a dip into Sue Sylvester. 

Now, we're nearing the end of our time here, there are just a few more things I feel we should cover while I have you here. 

As a Legacy I'm sure you're super aware of the type of pressures that can bring but, do you have an idea or a guess of what it might be like for a child of a well known individual like yourself to be wading through gossip and the literal meaning of the word legacy in your wake?

S: Of course - it's been a true pleasure knowing there are talented journalists like yourself on campus, Brittany. 

I have no doubt that it's the most difficult thing in the world to follow someone like me.  Knowing that everyone who looks at them is constantly comparing them to me, wondering when they'll follow in my footsteps and become more like me, I cannot imagine that sort of pressure.  But I trained them, molded them, just like any legacy parent should do, and I believe they're capable.

B: Thank you Sue, I super appreciate you saying that. I'm going to save it as a sound bite to play later. 

You heard it here folks, one Sue Sylvester believes her daughters to be trained an capable. It totally sounds like you're super proud, that's amazing. Speaking of when you were attending though, there is one more personal item my assistant has pointed out to me that I have yet to touch on and I think everyone would like to hear your side... 

I heard that when you were here at Devereux the then Intro to Dominance teacher reportedly had a public breakdown and resigned. Through the help of school records I have tracked down and reached out to said retired teacher and although they sounded ancient like the skeleton from tales from the crypt. They had this to say about it, and I quote:

"I never thought that the devil walked on Earth, and then I met Sue Sylvester.  How Devereux managed to survive her long enough to let her graduate, I'll never know.  That woman tried to kill me on at least three occasions, and whether anyone could prove it or not I know the truth.  She said on day one that I sounded like a Hippo wheezing in a desert, and from then on she had it in for me." 

 Do you have a comment?

S: Oh, them being capable doesn't mean that they'll actually put in the effort. Only that I gave them every tool possible to help them on their way.  What they do with that is up to them. 

 [ sound of Sue, laughing uproariously ] 

I can't believe that old bat hasn't keeled over in her study, surrounded by her little ceramic figurines and being gnawed on by the eighty seven cats I'm sure she owns.  I do have a comment, actually.  Now that the statute of limitations has expired, I'll say that I actually tried to kill her on at least seven different occasions, and she must have missed the other four.  And with the benefit of hindsight, she sounded less like a hippo wheezing than like the musty specter of death in a Vincent Price movie.

B: Seven.  Well. I don't know if legally I should air that but I bet your lawyers will be on it if there is any trouble. 

I also want to take a moment and add a disclaimer here, this podcast or any part of Devereux administration does not condone the use of violence or bullying against their employees. 

Well, that has been a ride. And I'd really like to thank you for taking the time to talk with me and give us your sizzling take on current goings on of our school. 

Before we go, and last of all... off the top you your head, what’s the hottest dish you have to serve up for us? Any context.

S: I, on the other hand, absolutely condone the use of violence.  How else do people learn? 

It's been a genuine pleasure, Brittany, and thank you for doing the good lord's work and getting the news out to your fellow students. 

The hottest dish I've got for you...oh, I've got just the thing.  I bet no one who goes here has ever figured this out, so consider this a Sue Sylvester exclusive.  If you find just the right brick to press on in the library, you can open a secret door.  Inside is a private gym and training facility that I dubbed "the room of pain."  The first one to find it will find a one hundred dollar gift card for Bullwinkle's Restaurant hidden somewhere inside.

B: WOAH. Completely unexpected dish!! You heard it here first people, a treasure hunt on our very own campus is now afoot. 

That was Sue Sylvester, this is Fondue For Two, and I am Brittany S Pierce. 

Signing off.

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

Halloween is on the way~ Hee-hee so enjoy this little spooky treat~

Featuring: The Polterbitch

The Polterbitch is a terrifying, ghostly entity that manifested from Amy’s intense feelings of anger, hatred and resentment towards the people she felt hurt by.

This was inspired by IT, The Conjuring, Paranormal Activity and Lights Out, scary… because the polterbitch is very much like the ghosts in the Conjuring, Paranormal Activity and Poltergeist, but it’s also kinda sadistic like Pennywise... 

Lol it’s to be expected given that Amy was born from American Horror Story... so naturally... she brought the horror story to UA or at least lets them know that they need to start believing in horror stories.

Background:

After Amy temporarily quit UA, she isolated herself in her mansion, with Shinsou, Madison, Mallory and Coco there to keep her company. Unfortunately, Amy was distraught, upset and still feeling angry towards Izuku (who broke her heart) and Aizawa (who she felt close to but he upset her greatly) and All-Might (to a lesser extent), in her anger, a curse was born and accidentally unleashed into the school only moments when Amy exited the grounds.

After her departure, the class noted that it felt off without Amy and expressed concern when she left, with Mineta especially terrified and thinking that she probably cursed them. Soon after, strange things began to occur throughout the student’s school days, beginning with moments when the lights would turn on and off or noticing that things had been moved, with glass cups having been shattered or the refrigerator left open throughout the night with some snacks eaten.

 However, Izuku was the first to become a victim of these strange happenings, with his homework assignments suddenly flying out of his backpack, or attempting to get a glass of water only for the glass to never fill up no matter how much water was poured into it. A visible event that startled those who witnessed it.

Tokoyami accurately deducted that it was a curse and reluctantly noted that Mineta was right, but Izuku didn’t really want to believe that curses were real, but it didn’t stop his classmates (including Todoroki, Uraraka and Aoyama) from kinda avoiding him when unlucky things started happening to him.

Initially, the curse did mostly harmless and minor tricks, such as turning the lights on and off, placing objects in different places in the dorm buildings and opening the doors through invisible means. As well as more bad luck occurring, with Izuku got the full brunt of the curse, but Aizawa faced several misfortunes as well.

Other simple things happened, such as perfectly ripe apples ended up being rotten and decayed upon being chewed, Izuku’s All-Might figurines are stacked up in a way he didn’t stack them before after turning around for a moment, his homework papers suddenly come flying out when he opens his bag  and then a raccoon kept randomly attacking him upon opening the refrigerator, the pantry, his locker and when he tries to shower.

Likewise, Aizawa was attacked by the same raccoon when attempting to sleep in his sleeping bag or when he attempts to grade test and after grading them, the next day his students note that there weren’t any grades on the papers when he returned them. All-Might however, experienced more harmless tricks such as finding his books stacked up when he turned around for a moment, or finding playing cards in his wallet instead of money when trying to buy snacks.

In the duration of a week, the students became paranoid and a disgruntled Aizawa set up cameras to figure out what was happening and to his and their horror, the cameras showed things happening such as the doors being opened and items being moved in the kitchen, and it became more apparent that the curse was real. The curse’s tricks became less harmless and the curse began to take on a humanoid form that lurked in the shadows and began to openly terrorize and horrify any who were unlucky enough to encounter it, or if it simply felt like screwing with their minds.

Students such as Izuku, Uraraka and Jirou then pleaded Shinsou for his help, but when he visited the dorms nothing happened during his presence (due to his friendship with Amy), and he was aware that there was a minor curse on them, but he neglected to tell them just for his own amusement.

Shinsou: There’s nothing going on here you lunatics.

Izuku: Then why are all these bad things happening?! I spent the entire night locked in the pantry downstairs and my phone j-j-just died! I had it charged and it just died! And the lights wouldn’t even work!

Uraraka: Three days ago I saw the door close! By itself! And a chair moved by itself too! Aizawa-sensei was with us he saw it!!

Shinsou: It could’ve been your classmate Hagakure.

Jirou: It is NOT Hagakure! There’s something going on in here! And it all happened as soon as Amy left!

Shinsou: A lot of things have happened whenever she leaves. Not just this series of unfortunate circumstances and coincidences.

Mineta: These aren’t coincidences! It’s a curse! An evil witch’s curse! She cursed Midoriya and now she’s cursed all of us!

Shinsou: (irritated) You guys were going through a lot of stress during the time before and after. Perhaps it’s just your guilt manifesting.

Izuku: Shinsou it is NOT that! Please just tell Amy to stop doing whatever she’s doing, please?! I beg of you...!

Shinsou: She’s recovering at her house. You should’ve been nicer to her when she was here and maybe she would, but she doesn’t have to, because she isn’t doing anything.

Amy had no idea what was going on though, as she was unaware that she had placed a curse on UA and that it gleefully terrified and haunted the school. At least until her classmates began texting her and begging her to help them and turn off the curse, initially she didn’t believe it because she wasn’t aware that she could create curses, but Todoroki’s text ended up convincing her to go back momentarily to UA for inspection. 

To her horror she realizes that she did indeed place a curse upon them that took on the form of a poltergeist that she dubbed a ‘polterbitch’ because the curse had no desire to kill anyone, but rather, just enjoyed playing mind games and scaring all the people she hated, and she found it hilarious due to how many people and children were frightened by the haunting. 

Still, because some of her friends were afraid, she reluctantly lessened the curse after reading a spell on how to, and to her annoyance she discovers that the curse was born from her emotions and it urges her to work on herself because while she admits she still holds anger towards certain people, that she doesn’t want her friends and the people she liked to suffer for it. 

Taking this to heart and working to improve on herself, Amy’s curse began to dissipate, the happier she was with Shinsou and her girlfriends, and also... meeting Ashlen online also brightened up her spirits, along with meeting her friend Ambrose is what enabled the curse to be uplifted from UA with nothing else occurring afterwards.

Personality:

The polterbitch, strictly speaking, functions as a curse and a poltergeist that haunts the area it was placed upon, as Amy unknowingly cursed UA in her moment of resentment and anger. Initially, it began as a curse that enabled unfortunate mishaps to occur throughout the dorms and played harmless pranks that alarmed and freaked out Amy’s classmates and friends particularly since they couldn’t explain them. It has a wicked sense of humor as it finds amusement in scaring the daylights out of people, even giggling at their fear, but it can be playful as well as it also giggles at the frustrations of Iida, Bakugou and All-Might.

Mischievous at first, the curse became increasingly wild, turning lights on and off and being especially active at night time and shortly afterwards began to take on a more active presence to the point where Dark Shadow, another entity, was able to communicate with it through the TV one late night at 3 am. However, when Todoroki (who had trouble sleeping) arrived in time to watch the shadow talking to the TV he was skeptical until he heard a voice’s whispers and believed it to be Amy, and in turn, the curse took on her form (albeit appearing more like a specter, ghostly figure) and began to speak to him. Implying that curse still retains Amy’s attachments as it seemed to recognize Todoroki and it took her form for him to be comfortable with and it seemed the most comfortable interacting with him as it never attempted to interact with any other friend.

The polterbitch does not seem outwardly cruel, or rather, is selective in who it plays tricks on, as it did nothing to harm friends like Shinsou, Todoroki, Yaoyorozu or Kaminari, even helping them when they misplaced items with the polterbitch putting Kaminari’s correct book in his backpack or attacking Mineta when he attempted to look up Yaoyorozu’s skirt. Although it still enjoyed playing harmless tricks on Iida and Bakugou, but more out of playfulness rather than malice as it fondly giggled at their annoyance and did nothing to harm them.

Unfortunately, it retained Amy’s anger towards certain people as it went from speaking calmly with Todoroki to animalistically roaring when Aizawa found Todoroki still awake at an ungodly hour and it immediately fled when spotted by him. Likewise, the polterbitch took a twisted delight in terrorizing Izuku in particular by playing endless tricks that became much more fearful that scared the hell out of him. It seemed to also have Amy’s sense of humor, albeit far more wicked as it enjoyed the fear it got out of people, including the Big 3 and Aizawa, who were visibly startled by it’s actions such as shutting the doors and moving chairs before their eyes. Although, the polterbitch did also use physical violence when especially provoked, as it also beat the tar out of Mineta during an exercise for spying on the girls.

Showcasing that the polterbitch has two sides, one that is gentle, playful and passive with Amy’s friends, and another that is aggressive, sadistic and beastly towards the people she hates or feels anger and resentment towards..

The polterbitch is assumed to speak, as Dark Shadow and Todoroki seemed to hear and understand what it was saying, but when others watched it interact with them, they heard nothing from it as it’s mouth opened.

It’s cruelty and trickery all varies and depends on Amy’s emotions as the polterbitch is fueled by Amy’s negative emotions such as anger and resentment towards certain people, however, it can be staved away by happiness and love as the polterbitch dissipated with a smile when Amy received love and support from friends such as Shinsou and Madison, and when she found comfort in a new friend. 

Abilities:

Curse Embodiment: The polterbitch functions as a curse built from Amy’s anger and resentment and thus primarily acts on these emotions to terrify the people she’s most angry with or simply hates. 

Intangibility: The polterbitch can go through walls and other items. 

Invisibility: Although it lurks mainly in the shadows, the polterbitch can make itself invisible from others and also lets itself be seen when it wants to be seen. 

Teleportation: The polterbitch can suddenly appear in other places, although it’s implied that it can do this through the use of shadow travel and lurking in darkness.

Speed: The polterbitch is very fast, but primarily utilizing darkness for speed. 

Fear Inducement: Stemming from Amy’s resentment, the polterbitch induces fear in those it’s creator is angry with and gleefully does so in an almost sadistic manner.

All in all the polterbitch is a metaphor for lingering toxicity and how it can harm others, even the ones you didn’t intend to hurt and that it can return, but it can also go away too and it can stay away as long as good choices are made for ones self.

Incantation: I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you...

[ecto-american]

October Nights C5

Ectober fanfiction || Day One | Day Two | Day Three | Day Four || On AO3

Summary: Danny may have died, but he is certainly not gone. And he refuses to be forgotten.

Day 5: Scarecrow & Grave Robber 

Tucker had missed that day. He had finally texted her back at eight that morning when Sam was already anxiously waiting at the steps of the school. He said that he simply felt too depressed to go that day, and that his mom was letting him take a mental health day. Boy, could she ever relate. Sam had to rely on her grandma to motivate her out of bed that morning, and it was not an easy task to do.

But she had to force herself to go to school that day. It was the last place she wanted to be, but at least she'd be surrounded by people. At least he would be attached to her and here, instead of at home with her vulnerable grandmother and parents. Being in a crowd would also make it much harder for him to catch her alone and do anything. Her dad had driven her there, cheerfully talking about nothing and being oblivious to the cold air that had origins in the ghost that sat invisible in the back seat. Sam almost found it comical how her dad missed that Danny, even as a haunting full ghost specter, had buckled his seat belt. Tucker still agreed to meet her at the cemetery after school, then give her a ride home. Especially after she was able to spit out part of what had happened. She spared him some of the details for now, but she did warn him to wear his specter deflector to their hang out. Just in case.

Because she knew that this figure would absolutely not leave her alone that easily. And once Tucker was fully in the loop, she was afraid that he'd be a target next. Sam merely prolonged the inevitable obsession from continuing to escalate.

The feeling of being watched was mild all that school day, but it served as a reminder of his constant looming threat. He was keeping his distance, cautious and unsure of what she had planned after her freak out against him. Sam wore the specter deflector under Danny's oversized NASA sweatshirt as a precaution and kept a blaster strapped to her thigh underneath her knee length skirt as a warning.

Her eyes watched the rows of houses, desperately assuring herself that she had some kind of comfort and help within their walls. She spied a few people home in the windows, a few scarce people in their driveways as they returned home from work or some errand, several people driving past her. Kids' screams of excitement filled some sections of the neighborhood as they played in their yards. It put her at some sort of ease, that, in theory, somebody would be a witness to that looming presence that was following her. She could feel it, his gaze. He had to be invisible, but he was close.

A scarecrow caught her eye as she began to approach the shopping district. It smiled cutely as it stood propped up in the flower bed, leaning on the shop's sign. The scarecrow was just another part of that shop, Aloe There!, and their regular fall decorations. It was one of Sam's favorite shops, a small family owned business that had been around for as long as she could remember. She found herself stopping in front of it.

The small local greenhouse and store that she always got her supplies at, where she'd drag Danny and Tucker to. Just three days before he died, Danny had taken her there to get some new lighting for a special plant she had bought. Her boyfriend had dorkily brought her a mint plant during his silent fit of boredom while she shopped, expressing how they were mint-to be. At the time, she had rolled her eyes, telling that idiot to put the plant back where he found it.

Now she'd give anything to hear another stupid pun.

She stared at the scarecrow. That stupid smile reminded her so much of Danny. The adorable charm, the bright blue buttons shining. It reminded her of that plant. Her fingers grasped her backpack straps. She absolutely needed that mint plant.

Sam made her way into the shop, hearing the familiar bell ring. The store was a bit too warm, as always, but it was like it melted away her grief and troubles. If only for a short while. The shop owner, a plump grandmotherly figure, brightened the second she saw her. She stopped stocking shelves to brush her dark green apron. As usual, the shopowner's bored fifteen year old granddaughter was behind the counter, watching videos on a smartphone and only mumbled out a half-hearted greeting.

"Hello, Sam!" the owner greeted warmly.

"Hello, Mrs. Addison!" she replied cheerfully.

"Do you need any help, dear?"

"No, ma'am!"

"Alrighty, hon. Just call if you need me."

"I will!"

Sam knew where everything was. She had visited this shop countless times, and she knew exactly where to find the plant. A tiny, unimpressive plant. It wasn't a good idea to plant it now. But she knew it'd survive the cold weather. Mint, like Danny, was very strong and stubborn. It'd just remain dormant for the winter.

Regardless, she picked up the cheap plastic pot that held it, hugging it tightly to her. She also found a cheap hand shovel, and she brought them to the counter. The bored teen put down her phone and began to ring up her items.

"Will that be all for you, Sam?" she questioned.

"Yeah. No bag or receipt, and debit card please," Sam answered before it could even be asked. The teen simply nodded, swiping the card and handing it back. Sam put her wallet and the shovel into her backpack. The receipt printed, and the teen tossed it in a trash can behind the counter.

"Have a good day," she told her, and the teen immediately returned her attention back to her phone. Sam hummed in return, picking up the plant and holding it to her chest.

After a brief goodbye, she continued on her way. The now distinct coldly feel intensified around her, and she scowled. Sam didn't break her pace.

"Go away. Cold air's bad for the plants," she grumbled.

"...You bought the mint." The invisible voice sounded surprised and a bit confused. Sam stared down at the dormant plant.

"...I did." There was no hiding her impulse buy. Not that she had any doubts that he had watched her pick it out and purchase it anyway.

Sam could feel the air shift near her arm, as if he was going to grab her. Only to stop suddenly.

"...You really did miss me."

Sam bit her lip, and she refused to reply. She picked up speed, continuing to walk quickly towards the iron gates of the Amity Park Cemetery. It was still so hard to believe...only weeks prior, she watched Danny be buried in his final spot. The last place she truly saw him, the real him.

Sam shivered as she felt the faintest ice cold air gently hit her back, and the forced breathing became very audible to her. Not this...thing that kept following her.

Tucker's car was already parked in the lot, but he wasn't there. Sam didn't bother breaking her stride, going up to the gate and just pushing it open to slip inside. She made her way through the rows and rows of headstones, absentmindedly taking note of the odder names of those buried anywhere from hundreds of years ago to barely a week ago.

The cemetery was sorrowfully beautiful, always so well landscaped and made for the perfect spooky setting. The woods that sat just behind it held fond memories of her and her friends exploring them as kids. The leaves were becoming bare as autumn had continued, leaving scarce to the imagination of what was hidden there. Danny used to tell them that the woods were haunted and full of ghosts when they were little. Of course, Sam believed him. He was from the ghost hunter family after all, and even though Jazz had always scowled and insisted at the time ghosts didn't exist, the irony of those memories made Sam smile sadly. A painful ache and the cold that followed her made her, despite all the wonderful memories they made for her, silently wish that ghosts were truly just a myth.

As Sam walked deeper into the cemetery, she saw the familiar outline of her best friend sitting next to a headstone. Relief washed over her at knowing that she would not be alone much longer, and she broke into a jog towards him. Tucker paid her no mind, staring at the headstone: DANIEL JAMES FENTON, BELOVED SON AND BROTHER. He was muttering softly to it, and she could tell that he had been crying. He also clutched some tissues in a shaking hand. To her relief, he had heeded the warning she gave him when they were agreeing to meet up. He, too, was wearing a specter deflector.

"Hey Tucker," she greeted him quietly. Sam set the plant next to him before she wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind. She squeezed him tightly, resting her cheek on the top of his head as she felt his arm grab her arm to squeeze. Sam stared at the headstone with him as they fell into silence.

The trio was back together again.

Sam gave a deep shaky sigh. She could feel him nearby. A rush of cold air passed her, and she shook a bit. Her arms wrapped tighter around Tucker in light fear before letting go to sit next to him. She dug through her backpack to pull out the shovel.

Tucker said nothing as Sam dug a small hole next to the headstone. With an expert ease, she replanted the mint into the ground. Pushing the dirt around it and patting it down, she spoke quietly to the plant. About how lovely he was, that she knew he was dormant now but that come spring he'd be so handsome. In her mind, she already had named him. His name was Dean. The name Danny always brought up wanting to name any son they'd have in the future. A name she always jokingly teased him for, because she honestly loved the name too.

"So, wanna give me the deets on what's been going on?" Tucker finally spoke up when Sam had shifted to sit back next to her. Sam said nothing for a moment, staring at the plant. He took her hand, and she finally began to talk.

With every word, Tucker got noticeably more and more disturbed at what she had to say. His grip on her hand would tighten as she recounted her night of horror. She tried to focus on Tucker, but she could still...god that watched feeling. Sam knew it was an icy hot glare of anger as she told the story. As she neared the end of her explanation, she could see Tucker violently shiver with her as an unbearably cold and unnatural wind hit them.

"Sammy," his voice finally spoke up, and she saw Tucker freeze upon hearing it. He didn't have to say it. She could see the look plastered on his face to know that the mere voice was terrible to him as well. His hold on her hand was firm.

Again, her free hand went to her hip to make sure the precious specter deflector was on. It was. Cold breath blew against her cheek, but she kept her focus on Tucker. His face paled, and she could see his eyes widen. She knew why. This thing made itself visible to them, and she could see out of the corner of her eye his hand. It moved as if he was going to cup her cheek, but keeping his distance for his own safety.

"The gang's back together," he said, and Sam almost felt bad at how...happy he sounded. She turned to glare at him as she let go of Tucker. She shifted to stand up.

"No, the gang is not," she replied coldly. Those red eyes darkened at her. "The gang involves Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, and Danny Fenton. You are not Danny Fenton."

"Why are you so angry at me?" he frowned. "Sam, I love you. You love me, remember?"

"No I don't!" Sam snapped. Tucker got to his feet as well. "I loved Danny Fenton! You're not him! You're somebody entirely different! Something that won't leave me alone! That's obsessed! You need to go away! I don't love you because you're not Danny Fenton!

A deep, angry chattering noise and it moved a few feet back in an angry jerk. His eyes glared at them both, glowing brighter and brighter as he raised his fists.

"Is this the fucking thanks I get for saving you all these years!?" the voice shrieked with a soul piercing tone that struck immediate fear into her core. The haunting echo was bad, and it only amplified the terror. "I fucking died to protect this ungrateful town! I did everything to be a good boyfriend and friend! I love you, Sammy! I died doing what I could to protect you, to make sure no ghost ever came to harm you, and I'll be damned if I be forced to leave you again!"

"Dude, you need to leave her alone!" Tucker shouted, scrambling to stand closer to Sam. He grabbed her hand again protectively, half-standing in front of her. "You were Danny Fenton once, but not anymore! You gotta go!"

"Tucker, you better fucking move before I end you!" it snarled.

"No!"

A blast hit the ground two feet in front of them, causing them both to fumble back in fear. Sam's free hand grasped the back of Tucker's shirt. This was the first time this...this thing actively used an attack against her. She could tell that it was a warning shot, but it was still so close. She could smell the grass as it smoldered from the blast. He was escalating. Fast. She swallowed hard, and she lightly pushed Tucker to the side so she could properly face her spectral stalker.

"You're not Danny Fenton!" Sam screamed. "Danny Fenton would never hurt his best friends!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" The figure slapped his hands over his ears, closing his eyes tightly and roared in anger. "I AM Danny Fenton!"

"NO! YOU! AREN'T!" Sam stomped her foot with every scream as her hand ripped out of Tuckers so she could fling her arms wildly to emphasis. His eyes snapped open and gave her the coldest look she had ever received. Her knees nearly buckled.

"I'll prove it," he hissed.

The figure shot into the ground, and Sam's heart continued to race as she stared. It wasn't over. It couldn't be over. It couldn't be the end.

A hand shot out of the ground, akin to the start of a cliche zombie movie. Sam felt all the color drain from her face as she grew so, so cold. Soon, an entire body began to emerge from the ground, along with a horrific smell that instantly hit her. Despite having never truly smelled it before, Sam had a very good guess as to what it was. Death.

"Oh god," Tucker's voice came out in barely a whisper of horror. She felt him wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him as a hand clamped over her eyes before she could truly see anything. Sam was too numb to stop him, and she didn't want to. Sam could feel Tucker shake as he clung to her tightly. "Sam, don't look."

Sam could hear an odd rattling and lots of cracking, with terrible groaning and wheezing. The smell was overwhelming. She fumbled a bit as Tucker took a step back, but she was quickly able to walk back with him. Her best friend's breathing was short and fast. Nearly a panic attack.

"...Is it bad?" she dared herself to ask. Her fingers began to cling to his shirt. Tucker swallowed hard.

"...Just keep your eyes closed," he practically begged. He took another step back, and Sam fumbled to follow. That smell was either getting closer, or it was getting immensely worse. Either could be true. Sam felt Tucker's breath on her ear, as he desperately whispered, "Sam, reach into my pocket and pull out the thermos. Trap this thing."

Sam's hands immediately began to pat Tucker down blindly. She soon was able to locate his pocket, feeling the familiar metal container. Grabbing it, she pulled it out and uncapped it with shaky hands. Straight ahead, she heard angry, breathless groans. Something came towards them. She could feel the grass and leaves being trampled. Tucker forced them both to take another step back.

"Sam!" Tucker's voice was full of panic.

Sam fumbled with the thermos, letting the cap fall to the ground as she held it up. Tucker's hold on her loosened so she could properly aim, but she was still aiming blindly. She pressed the single button of the thermos, and the familiar jerk of the invention working. Her ears strained for the familiar noise of a ghost being sucked in. Their angry screams, the invention powering down. But none of it came. It just kept going, and Sam gestured the invention around. Maybe she wasn't aiming right.

"It's not working!" Tucker seemed more panicked, and it caused Sam's heart to thud hard. "It's not sucking him in!"

But it worked on ghosts...and Danny was a ghost...It never worked on him when he was in his human form but he was a full-Oh god.

Part of her had already guessed, but the subtly confirmed reality petrified her. Her free hand grabbed Tucker's shirt, grasping it tightly in her first.

"What do we do?" she asked. Tucker made them step back once more.

"Stay BACK!" Tucker barked, causing Sam to jump. In her ear, he whispered, "Do you have anything?" Sam perked up.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly. She pulled her skirt up a bit to grab the blaster, and she handed it to Tucker. He accepted it.

"I have the Fenton Fisher in my glove box and some towels and blankets in the trunk," Tucker told her quietly. "Please get them."

Sam felt him turn her around, and he took his hand off her eyes. She blinked as she faced the parking lot, her vision adjusting to being able to see again. Tucker's hand slipped into hers, giving her his set of keys. She glanced down at them, and she clutched them tightly in her hand.

"Don't look back at us," Tucker told her. His voice soon became distressed, but angry. "I told you to stay BACK!"

An angry wheezing and stomps on the leaves, more horrible cracking and snapping. Sam didn't stick around, and she quickly made her way to the parking lot. Her mind raced as she half-jogged down the path to the gate of the cemetery. She quickly opened it and slipped out, hurrying to Tucker's car. She retrieved the Fenton Fisher and opened the truck. She draped a large, worn blanket over her arm before shutting the car and locking it.

She heard the blaster fire. She snapped her attention to the hill in worry. There was no screaming or noises from Tucker or...him, that she could hear. Sam quickly raced her way back up towards her friend.

Tucker glanced behind him as Sam approached, and he motioned for her to come as he shifted to be in the way. So she couldn't see. And she kept it that way, primarily watching the ground as she stepped forward. While she rationally knew what was there, pretending that she didn't made her feel better.

She looked up to watch Tucker as he grabbed the Fenton Fisher from her. He handed her the blaster, and she traded with him. His other hand grabbed the blanket, and he began to walk away from her towards the figure. He tossed the blanket onto the figure, covering his face and upper body.

For the first time, Sam let herself look, and she felt sick. The figure was not in the jumpsuit as she tried to convince herself. Instead he sported the dark gray suit that they had buried her boyfriend in. The skin of the hands was a sickly and bruised color, the fingers distorted as they jerked to try and remove the cover. The corpse moved slowly and with that sickening cracking accompanying every gesture as the figure overshadowing it forced activity despite the rigor mortis. It had stupidly trapped itself, stubbornly refusing to leave to save itself. Thankfully it allowed Tucker to quickly wrap it in the Fenton Fisher before it could do anything.

Once wrapped, Tucker tied it off the best he could. He took a step back, unraveling the line a bit. They both stared silently at the figure as it continued to move and crack. To Sam's relief, when Tucker wrapped the line around him, he unintentionally made it to where the blanket wouldn't slide off. Sam didn't know the extent of Danny's injuries before his death...but based on Tucker's reaction, it wasn't a sight she wanted to see anytime soon.

"We need to get him out," Sam finally spoke up. Tucker stared at her, his eyes occasionally flickering back to the covered form as it jerked violently against him. He kept a firm hold onto the line.

"How?" he questioned.

Sam stared off at the woods, thinking for a moment. She pointed to them.

"I have an idea. Let's go there, more private," she said. Tucker glanced behind him to where she pointed, and he shot her an odd look, but complied.

He made a clicking noise, tugging on the pole. The form reluctantly took a step forward, the cracking making Sam's stomach churn. She reluctantly turned her belt off, and she got behind the figure to give it a push. It would be a slow process to get to the woods.

[dracox-serdriel]

Orion - Chapter Thirteen: Bird Snare (The Flash)

Title: Orion [AO3] [LJ] [FF] Chapter: Bird Snare Universe: The Flash Pairings: SnowJay (Caitlin Snow/Jay Garrick), SnowHunter (Caitlin Snow/Hunter Zolomon) Word count: ~5,000 Spoilers: All episodes through 02x18 Versus Zoom and all comic books that feature Zoom/Hunter Zolomon. Rating: NC-17/MA Chapter summary: Caitlin and Hunter both make their next moves.

Canon-divergent as of 02x18 Versus Zoom. Caitlin Snow and Jay Garrick meet under strange circumstances, but the attraction between them is immediate and the connection, real. Stranded on Earth-2, Caitlin fights for her survival against Zoom, the seemingly unstoppable meta-human who has fallen in love with her.

Set immediately after the events in 02x18 Versus Zoom, Orion includes flashbacks to missing scenes during canon episodes of the season when SnowJay was developing.

Read Orion from the beginning.

Orion Chapter Thirteen: Bird Snare

Caitlin was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for herself and RJ. Somewhere between cracking eggs and reaching for the toast, a sudden wind rushed through the room, rattling plates and dragging with it a lingering chill.

She should get a sweater.

She turned, and a man was there. He hadn't been there a few moments ago. Had he? Yet, here he was, this man with a painfully familiar face. Who was he?

"Caitlin?" he spoke. "Can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you," she replied. "You're right in front of me."

"Hold up, you can - you can see me?" the man asked. Before she could say anything, he blurted, "Oh, man! It finally worked! I'm dream-Vibing you, girl!"

Confusion followed this pronouncement. Why was he surprised that she could see him? Who was this guy, anyway? Wasn't she supposed to be cooking?

"Look, I dunno how long this will last," he kept speaking. "Caitlin, we're working on something, okay? We're gonna bring you home."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, confused. "I am home."

RJ started to cry.

-----

Caitlin jolted awake, disoriented by the sheets wrapped around her and the wailing from the crib beside her bed.

The image of that man's face - his horrified expression - remained fixed in her mind.

Cisco.

Caitlin couldn't remember any substance from her dream. Had she been eating with Cisco? Walking with him on the beach? Working together back at STAR Labs?

She couldn't focus, not with RJ's sobs. She pulled herself out of bed and lifted the toddler into her arms. His cries dropped to sullen whimpers. Her first thought was that he simply wanted attention, but he remained clearly distressed when snuggled against her chest.

She checked his forehead with the back of her hand. No, he didn't seem to have a fever. She glanced at the clock. Twelve past three in the morning, not a time he was normally awake. At least, not since she started caring for him. Was it normal for him - or toddlers in general - to wake crying like this?

Probably not.

As she walked down the stairs with a fussing RJ, she reminded herself that she could do this and that this was good practice. In a few more months, she'd be dealing with an infant. Frequent nighttime disruptions were definitely part of her future, so she might as well get a handle on it now.

On the chance that he was hungry, she ducked into the kitchen. When she took a sippy cup out of the cupboard, RJ reached for it, which she decided was a good sign. He must be thirsty.

She filled it about halfway with milk, and soon, RJ was busy sipping from his cup.

Please let this be enough to make the crying stop.

They both needed to go back to bed, so once he was finished, she carried the now-much-happier RJ back up the stairs, exhausted out of her mind, and all thoughts of her dream forgotten.

RJ settled back down almost immediately, but Caitlin was not so lucky. She curled up in bed but couldn't get comfortable.

At some point after Hunter had brought her back to the Comet, she returned to her room with a gnawing, rolling numbness that had taken hold of her. She had stared out the floor-to-ceiling window that made up one of the walls to her room for... how long, exactly? Minutes? Hours? Days?

However long she stared, her eyes never really adjusted to the dark. The moon was barely a sliver in the sky, and clouds blotted out the stars. Still, the ocean mesmerized her. Outside, not far from where she stood, sprawling waves collided with a pristine beach, falling back only to resurge again, swallowing a little more shore each time.

And here she was, hours later, lying in bed, and all she could do was think about those waves.

Was that what was happening to her? It felt like it. It felt as if she was slowly losing herself to an inevitable tide, sure and certain to consume her. It was only a matter of time before she, too, disappeared beneath the salt and sea.

Maybe she'd be better off that way.

With that thought, she fell asleep.

-----

About two hours ago on Earth-2, Hunter sped across the world, checking each of the former breech sites for any signs of activity, save for the one deep in the jungle near Gorilla City. It was never wise to trespass on the Great Ape's territory, but it would be particularly problematic now, when it might alienate them from allying with the Cause. They'd soon learn of the horrors Gorilla Grodd suffered, and they'd be out for blood. Preferably, the MTU's blood.

That was a matter for another day.

He could use the breech Vibe opened to draw Zoom back to Earth-1, but Team Flash actively monitored it. The last thing he needed was to become the target of yet another one of their blundering, desperate plans. Any interaction between him and them could result in their injury, and Caitlin already had enough reasons to hate him.

That's what happens to monsters.

No matter what, this monster needed to get to Earth-1 and back without any interference. So he identified the most fragile of the patched-breeches.

Vibe would sense his arrival immediately, and there was nothing Hunter could do to avoid that. But he could enter and exit from two different breeches, depriving Team Flash of any opportunity to intervene.

As he raced into his entry breech, he wondered what Caitlin would think of his tactics to evade Team Flash. Would she see them for what they were - her influence on a broken and angry yet reborn man? Or would she read it as weakness, as fear?

She wouldn't believe it at all.

A patched breech was similar to an opened breach; it just took a bit more effort to punch through to the between to cross to the next universe. Within a few seconds, Hunter burst into Earth-1 Central City.

Part of him envied this universe. Here, metahumans had a future unencumbered by elements like the MTU. In one of the futures he'd lived, he'd even witnessed this universe banning together to protect their metas from the encroaching MTU army of Earth-2. He had given serious consideration to abandoning his own universe in favor of Earth-1.

But then, Caitlin had died in that future. Hunter realized then that Team Flash couldn't keep her alive. He would have to do it, and he couldn't protect her, not in this universe, anyway.

He arrived outside her apartment complex, deciding to enter without his speed. Caitlin had given him - or, rather, Jay - a key, and it'd be nice to walk in, just like old times.

Hunter wasn't sure what he'd expected. A flood of memories? An overwhelming sense of longing? Whatever it was, he braced himself for it, and it never came.

Instead, he was in a very familiar apartment with the ghost of some other man's past joys haunting his footsteps.

As he collected photos from the living room, the phantom was the countless times they'd curled up with one another on the couch.

When he gathered items from the bathroom, the specter staring him down was the bathtub, where they'd spent more than one romantic evening unwinding after a particularly rough day.

As he made his way back to the bedroom, he felt the weight of the next spirit awaiting him long before he opened the door. He hadn't fallen asleep with - let alone, woken up next to - many people in his life. He never let anyone get that close to him. Not until Caitlin.

He packed her photo albums and her clothing in a room full of another man's memories with Caitlin. He felt the whisper of every touch, the sensation of every noise, the ripple of everything spoken here. But it was like all of that had happened with another man, a man he longed to be. A man who had let her in.

And she, in turn, had let him in. Into her life, her arms, her home, and even into her body. She hadn't just let him in, she'd welcomed him, wanted him. This was the first place he'd ever really known that feeling.

And he wanted it back.

But Hunter couldn't catch a ghost. The memories churned up, but he was no closer to getting Caitlin back. He refused to delude himself into thinking she would soften because he'd brought her some of the comforts of home. No, one act of kindness wouldn't be enough. He'd need a hundred - a thousand - acts of kindness before she'd even budge.

It was a good thing he was the fastest man alive. A thousand acts of kindness - even in the middle of a brewing war, soon to erupt - were well within his grasp. And this would be the first.

When Hunter walked out of her apartment and locked the door behind him, he sensed something inside himself shift. The joys of this place did not belong to an apparition; no, they were his now, like they always had been. It was up to him to make sure that they stayed that way.

Despite three heavily packed bags, he paced himself as he exited the building until he found enough cover to conceal the blur of his blue lightning.

He needed to clear his head, so he ran freely, zipping over the Rocky Mountains and down the west coast before returning to the outskirts of Central City. He had one more point of business before he returned to Earth-2.

Reverb had been a problematic minion, but he had had his uses before he overstepped his authority for the last time. He'd designed all kinds of meta-tech, including assistive devices that could, in theory, work across the multiverse, though he constantly lied about the scope and objective of his work to conceal his plans.

Of course, Reverb had been unaware of Hunter's background in physics and chemistry. Had he even an inkling of Hunter's genius, he would've known how feeble his subterfuge had been.

That was why Hunter knew that Reverb had invented a multidimensional communications device under the guise of a "Breecher Detection Alert System." It hadn't been fully tested, but it was based on fairly sound theory.

And unlike Earth-2, this universe still had a metahuman with multidimensional abilities. What Reverb started, Vibe would surely finish. He had the motivation; all he needed was the opportunity.

Earth-2 Linda Park, aka Doctor Light, had arrived at the meeting spot early. She looked pale and generally unwell when he blazed into the dark alleyway.

"You said you'd leave me alone," was the first thing she said.

It was strange how brave she sounded, but the quiver of her lips gave her away.

"Did I?" he asked in his modulated Zoom voice. "I told you, so long as you continue to work with STAR Labs on this world, you and your family will be safe from me. And that deal remains."

She visibly relaxed as she realized he had not come here to kill her.

"I have something for you," he continued. "Something I want you to finish, and a message to deliver."

"A message?" she repeated incredulously. "Am I just supposed to tell my new 'team' that I had a chat with their old buddy Zoom?"

"Tell them whatever you like," he replied. "Tell them everything about our arrangement. Tell them nothing. It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" she repeated, clearly confused. "Is that because you're going to... are you going to kill them?"

He considered her question. Doctor Light hadn't been a killer before she came to Earth-1, and her crimes had never been violent. She used her metahuman abilities to pull off bigger and bigger heists without any kind of physical harm. He once assumed that she did all this it because she knew that violent crimes attracted more heat, more cops, more retaliation.

Yet here she was, asking if he planned on killing her newfound team as if she genuinely cared about them.

Light had defied him. He couldn't let that stand, yet he also admired her for it. He decided against killing her when he realized he could use her to monitor Earth-1's STAR Labs, but that didn't mean he couldn't punish her just a little bit more. He'd let her stew with whatever unsettling thoughts she had.

For now.

"It doesn't matter what you tell them," he said. "Because soon they will know the truth for themselves."

With that, he left her with the package and raced back to Earth-2.

-----

Caitlin woke far too early in the morning for no reason at all. RJ was fast asleep, so she wandered into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

As she stood under the searing hot spray from the showerhead, she became alert and aware in increments, as if she hadn't quite finished waking up yet. Even so, accusation after accusation inundated her, refusing to abate.

She'd been so certain that Hunter had known about the baby, but his reaction had been all wrong. He'd been concerned and curious, but most of all, surprised. There was only one plausible explanation: she'd been wrong. He hadn't known about her pregnancy, and in her anger, she'd essentially locked her - no, their - prison forever. Whatever excuses Hunter made about holding her captive to protect her would be pale in comparison to the rationalizations he'd invent under the pretext of safeguarding his child.

No, not his child. Yours. Never his.

She tortured herself, reiterating those same thoughts until the water turned cold. But, as she toweled dry, she faced a particularly bitter truth: nothing had actually changed. If Hunter really was keeping her prisoner out of some twisted emotional connection - and she was starting to believe that was the case - then he was never going to let her go, pregnant or otherwise.

And how long could she have kept her pregnancy a secret from Hunter, anyway? Even if she could've concealed her test results, he would've cottoned on soon enough, either from all the adjustments she'd be making over the next few weeks or when she started showing.

At worst, her misstep had clued him in a few months early.

Assuming he hadn't already known.

Caitlin hadn't brought a change of clothing, so she returned to her room clad in the largest towel she could find. She fought the urge to collapse on her bed and sleep the day away. Now wasn't the time to give in or to give up, so she turned to her closet for something to wear.

She gasped - literally gasped - when she saw her favorite sweater. She pulled it out, and her fingers found the slightly loose right cuff and the wear spot at the right elbow. This was no replica; this was hers, from Earth-1.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she felt overwhelmed at the gesture.

Damn hormones.

Nothing had changed, whether or not Hunter had known about the pregnancy before. But she had successfully manipulated Hunter into crossing a breech to acquire some of her Earth-1 possessions.

She thought it'd feel like a victory, but instead she felt horrible. This wasn't her. This wasn't her.

Before she finished dressing, RJ woke up, unhappy and not afraid to express his dismay, so she carried him downstairs with her hair still damp, hoping breakfast would settle him.

And she spent the entire meal dreading Hunter's arrival.

Like always, food had been set out before her arrival: blueberry waffles - one of which was diced into very small pieces - and yogurt.

RJ fussed the whole time, unwilling to eat anything in front of him, but crying vehemently when Caitlin tried to take any of it away. It was enough to make her wonder if she was ready or motherhood. She had no idea what was wrong with RJ, and her patience for all the incoherent screaming was quickly evaporating.

She resigned herself to the sound of sobbing after fifteen futile minutes, leaving the inconsolable two-year-old to his own devices while she sat down to her now-cold meal.

Maybe she should run a few tests on RJ. He showed no signs of fever or congestion, but he could still be ill.

Or he might just be a two-year-old.

She decided she'd speak with Killer Frost just as RJ threw the remainder of his meal on the floor. Surely his mother would have some insight.

Thus, she rode down to the Comet, bypassing her "office" in favor of the second floor. She slipped into Unit C, but Frost wasn't there. Undeterred, she went to the floor's nurse's station, which was staffed by a familiar face: Roy Harper.

Not your Roy Harper. Earth-2 Roy.

"Where is Killer Frost?" she asked.

He seemed amused by her question. He sat back in his seat and asked, "What, are you, like, her sister or something?"

"You could say that," she replied. "Where is she?"

"Who wants to know?"

"Bellatrix," she answered.

Her response elicited an immediate reaction. His slouch vanished, and the smug half-smirk fell from his face.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said. " I didn't recognize you without your suit. Let me look up that patient for you."

Did Roy Harper just call you "ma'am"?

Roy typed something into the computer before he continued, "She's been moved to an intensive care floor for critical patients."

"Critical patients?" she repeated.

"Yes, ma'am. Level seventy-one, unit A. And, uh, children aren't allowed on critical floors - that's seventy to seventy-nine - not unless they're patients. But levels sixty-five and eighty-five have short-term day care for visitors."

"Thank you, uh - I'm sorry, I haven't asked your name."

"Berserker, ma'am."

"Thank you, Berserker."

Caitlin returned to the elevator and punched the number for level sixty-five. She didn't like the idea of leaving RJ in someone else's care, but she'd have to if she wanted to speak to Frost. So she dropped him off with a young woman who recognized him as soon as they stepped off the elevator. At least he wasn't with a total stranger.

"It's just a few minutes, Frostbite," she explained to him. "Just a few minutes."

She felt supremely guilty as she got back inside the elevator without him.

There were only two open units on level seventy-one. Most of the floor was a dedicated to Unit C, a biocontainment unit with an attached decontamination unit.

Caitlin spotted Doctor Midnight - one of them, anyway - working on a chart at the nurse's station. Unwilling to be held up by more questions, she ducked into Unit A.

Frost had been weak but definitely stable and improving yesterday, yet today her vitals had gotten weaker. Her first instinct was to consult her chart, but the patient was awake and starting straight at her.

"What are you doing here?" Frost snapped. "Didn't I tell you to get out already?"

"You did."

"You didn't bring him, did you?" she asked.

It was clear she meant her son.

"No," Caitlin replied. "What happened? Why did they move you here?"

"You mean the reject floor," she replied. "According to Doctor Midnight, I stopped breathing last night. Not sick enough to be on life support. Not well enough to get better."

"Don't say that," Caitlin said. "You just need time to heal."

"What for?"

"What for?" she repeated, indignant. "For your son."

"He's better off without me."

"How can you say that? He needs his mother."

"A mother who can't even touch him?" she shot back.

"You don't freeze everything you touch," Caitlin pointed out. "You're not freezing the bed you're lying in or any of the equipment touching you."

"No, just everything living," Frost said. "The only one who could survive my touch was Deathstorm. Our son didn't inherit that ability. My mother was a cold-hearted bitch, but she could hug him and wipe away his tears without freezing his skin."

"So that's it?" she asked, getting angrier by the second. "Ronnie dies, Mom dies, and you - you just give up?"

"You think I want to die?" she snapped. "I don't do make believe. I'm not getting better."

"But - "

"Remember your promise to me," she interrupted. "And whatever you do, don't bring him here. I don't want him to see me like this."

"You're not dying," Caitlin said stubbornly. "Not so long as I can help it."

"Tell me, why would you waste your time trying to save me?" Frost asked. "I'm a murderer, you know that, right? I've killed dozens of people. Possibly hundreds. A few of them were bad people that needed to die, but most of them were just in the wrong place at the wrong time... near me when I needed a nice, warm snack."

Caitlin asked, "If you're such a horrible person, then why did you save me? You could've used me as a battery like anyone else, but you didn't. You stopped that man from killing me."

Frost had no response for that.

"Maybe you think you're not worth saving, but I'm going to save you anyway," Caitlin said before she stormed out.

She made it to just outside the elevator before she realized that she'd said nearly the same thing to Jay - no, Hunter - only a few months ago back on Earth-1. Why was it that she was so dedicated to saving other people? Was it because she couldn't save herself?

No, saving Frost was strategic. She didn't have a clue - let alone a plan - for escaping, but she knew she'd need allies. A murderous ice queen with common decency and possibly a heart buried under years of detachment and resentment wouldn't be her first choice, but something told her she could trust her doppelganger.

Besides, she had worked with plenty of less-than-desirable people back on Earth-1, like Captain Cold and Heat Wave, and even Harrison Wells - or, rather, Eobard Thawne - after discovering his true identity. Even Team Arrow had worked with Malcolm Merlyn when times became desperate enough for such an alliance.

Screaming abruptly drew her attention. No, not screaming, an alarm. It was coming from Unit C.

She ran to help, but a flash of silver hurtled into her path, forcing her to come to an inelegant halt halfway to her destination. It was Hubris the fox.

Had he been following her this whole time?

Caitlin tried to go around him, but he kept adjusting his position to block her. When he started to growl and looked ready to pounce, she relented and backed away.

All she could do was watch from a distance as the alarm continued to howl. Doctor Midnight was in the decontamination area, donning some kind of helmet before his voice boomed over the intercom.

"All patients must be gagged before I enter."

What the hell kind of protocol is that?

The alarm went off because one of the patients was enduring a prolonged seizure. One of the healthy patients unceremoniously shoved a rag into the seizing patient's mouth - which was not safe or remotely acceptable for anyone having a seizure. Doctor Midnight didn't open the door until the other two patients were both gagged in their beds.

By the time the doctor entered to administer diazepam, the patient had been seizing for over five minutes, increasing the risk of status epilepticus and other dangerous complications.

But, why? Why did the patients have to be quarantined? Why did Doctor Midnight insist on gagging them before delivering even the most basic treatment? It didn't make any sense.

It makes sense if they're MTU employees. Maybe this is Doctor Midnight getting some revenge.

That wasn't right. She couldn't just let this stand.

"Bellatrix," Totem said as she entered from the elevator. "You are needed elsewhere."

"You expect me to leave after what I just saw?" she asked. "What kind of medical protocol requires patients to be gagged?"

"I understand your concern," she said calmly. "But the precautions here are all necessary. If you come with me, I shall explain on the way."

Caitlin wavered a few moments between standing her ground and leaving, but ultimately, staying here wasn't going to help anyone. Before she could remedy the situation, she needed to know what was happening.

So she went to the elevator, led by Hubris and followed by Totem, with an especially nasty bit of suspicion embedded in the pit of her stomach.

Before the doors even closed, she asked, "What was all that? With the gagging?"

"Those patients are all biologically related to a metahuman with speech-related powers," Totem explained. "The Metahuman Tactical Unit experimented on those three for over a year. We do not yet know the full effects of those experiments, so precautions are being taken."

It hadn't escaped Caitlin's notice that Totem had not only omitted the metahuman's name but was also vague about the meta-ability in question. But she'd recently let her anger drive her to some unfortunate choices lately, and she didn't want a repeat of that.

After all, the Comet had just been inundated with patients. Was it fair to expect Totem to know the name of every patient off the top of her head? Probably not.

Caitlin would consult the digital patient charts once she got back to her "office."

So, on to the other business at hand. She asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"To a patient only you can treat," Totem replied cryptically. "But before you meet her, you must put on your suit, Bellatrix."

-----

Hunter had unpacked Caitlin's Earth-1 possession as soon as he returned, sneaking into her room as she slept. His watched her for a little while, hoping that their next conversation would go better than their last. His plans to speak with her over breakfast, however, were foiled by reports of increased MTU activity along the west coast.

He couldn't ignore it, not with the proximity to the Comet. So he left to deal with it himself.

It was much worse than he'd thought.

In response to the Siege, the MTU had initiated global mobilization. And it wasn't just the MTU. All kinds of government agencies and private corporations were suddenly moving weapons and personnel. Even local law enforcement was out in full force, collecting any associates of known metahumans.

Zoom ordered the Cause to retreat completely underground. He couldn't risk his metas being caught, which meant desperate rescue missions needed to be taken off the table entirely. As a result, the Cause's network abandoned its intelligence gathering work, even the most remote monitoring posts.

Only a handful of metas could collect the kind of intelligence they needed to prepare for their next move. Totem's familiars could assist and blend in, unnoticed by counter-intelligence agents, but they wouldn't be enough.

Zoom spent the majority of the morning reassigning resources and crippling enemy supply lines. Slowing the MTU down would buy the Cause enough time to prepare.

Though, part of him knew he was also stalling. He was dreading the conversation he needed to have with Caitlin. It was far easier to burn cables and smash caravans than to face her again.

Which was why he was standing in her room in the middle of the day, knowing that she would be down in the Comet. Why is it that everything had to be coming to a head all at the same time?

"Hunter?"

Her voice made his heart jump into his throat. He turned to see her heading for her closet.

Somehow, she was even more beautiful then she had been just this morning.

"What are you doing in my room?" she asked.

"I came to drop something off," he replied.

"If you mean my clothing, I've already see it," she said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. "But, Caitlin, we need to talk about what comes next."

She crossed her arms, but otherwise didn't respond.

"If you are plan to keep it - the baby, I mean - there are things you should know," he said. "I thought it'd be easier to... I put all the data on this."

He held out a slim laptop, and she reluctantly walked over and took it.

"So, what?" she asked. "This is about genetic disorders in your family?"

It was a shrew question, and, admittedly, one he hadn't even considered.

"No, it's more general than that," he hedged. "And that laptop has been set up with an inter-dimensional intercom. It's not fully functional yet, but when it does - "

"I'll be able to talk to Earth-1?" she asked. "Why? Why would you suddenly be okay with me talking to my friends?"

He knew she was going to be suspicious of his motives. He couldn't blame her for that, but he also wasn't expecting the accusation in her voice to hurt him so deeply.

"Because, after you read what's on that computer, I think you're going to need them," he replied. "Caitlin, please, I - "

A blaring alarm interrupted him. Moments later, Blink appeared, running up the stairs to Caitlin's room.

"Sorry to interrupt," Blink said. "But Gigawatt and Geomancer have gone insane."

"I'll meet you at the usual location," he said to Blink.

She nodded before she ran back down the stairs.

"I have to deal with this," he said. "Whatever other work you have today, Bellatrix, it can wait. You need to read that first."

With that, he followed behind Blink, down the stairs and probably into the Comet, leaving an incredibly confused Caitlin in his wake.

Chapter notes: The title of this chapter, Bird Snare, is from the Maori name for the constellation Orion, Pewa-o-Tautoru, which means "Tautoru's Bird Snare."

Author notes (somewhat spoiler-y): This fic has previously mentioned dissociative disorders, specifically from Caitlin's perspective as a possible diagnosis for Hunter Zolomon/Zoom. While Caitlin, as a character, considers this a real possibility, I want to state here that that is simply not the case. Caitlin Snow considers the possibility that Hunter has a dissociative disorder because those were the insights inspired by her limited background in psychiatry/psychology.

I'm writing this note because I know that dissociative disorders are poorly represented and very often mishandled in pretty much all forms of media, and it's important to me that anyone reading Orion understands that this story is not meant to represent or describe someone living with a dissociative disorder.

[pearlsartblog2019]

Monster Verse AU: Part six

SPG Monster Verse AU : Part Seven

Notes: Notes: Don’t own SPG… all of those lovelies belong to the bennetts and co. I just do strange things in stories with the characters for fun. 

Don’t own Sprocket  Or Dex they be long to the very awesome: https://spg-fanbot-cousins.tumblr.com/

Pearl is my own character and is used in this and several other stories. Time period note : This is the start of the part of the story which is set in modern times.. The year is about 2018-early 2019. Hope you like! Enjoy the show.

 She was in the process of hanging off the edge of her bed looking for something. It wasn't messy under there, far from it. However she couldn't seem to locate just what she was looking for. 

 "Has anyone seen my gold ribbon?" Pearl asked. 

 She continued to hang there for a second still looking when she heard someone come in the room. 

"Pearl?" Her father asked, "What on earth are you doing?"

 Her sister Sprocket stuck her head out of the closet, "looking for ribbon.. ya know " She motioned to the gifts sitting in the corner, "Birthday party tomorrow."

 Spine smiled, "Ahh.. right. You two do realize hes ten and he's probably not even going to notice right?"

 "So?" Came the muffled reply from the bed where now only her feet were visible, "Doesn't mean i can still make it nice."

 "Fair enough," He said and went to sit on the bed placing the items he had on the nightstand, "Still," He bent down and lifted the bed skirt, "It IS time for you to come out and take your "Vitamins" "

 That got her attention. 

A few seconds later Pearl wiggled out from under the bed and lay on the floor glaring up at him for a second. "Seriously?"

 Sprocket snickered as she slid outta the closet and flopped onto the bed, "You got a better definition of them?"

 Pearl snorted and sat up, The rose and flopped next to her Naga sister on the bed, "No. " She sighed and rolled on her stomach, "Better than vomiting i suppose."

 Her father looked sad for a second, "It is. I had no idea it was going to be that bad, because you were able to tolerate it for so long."

 Pearl looked at the stuff on the nightstand, A one liter bottle of disani and a bottle of pills, "Who knew. I mean People like me are so stupidly rare there's not really much anyone knows about them. I'm the first Dhampir in what? 100?200? Years?"

 "Longer," Spine told her, "So you are right in the no information department. That and most did not live long after coming of age.  Thankfully the modern world is a bit better at solving some of these problems."

 The problem had been that the human part of pearl wanted solid food, and the vampire part of her still NEEDED blood.  But physcologically, as her human side came out more and more, drinking blood became repellant to her subconscious.  After two weeks and 18 bottles of hersey's chocolate syrup, someone had FINALLY thought of a permanent solution.  

Stupidly simple solution used in humans to treat the blood diseases, porphyria and melia toxicity. 

Gelatin shells containing dehydrated, human imuno-gamuloglobulin.( in english..dehydrated blood)  

 If it worked for humans it would work for Pearl. So that meant swallowing the things at the intervals she would have eaten at night and then making sure to get some human food in her at least once a night as well. 

 Pearl sat up and made a face, it was basically swallowing non flavored gelatin, and held her hand out. 

"Still wondering what strings Six and Five had to pull to get these," She said fighting with the cap. 

Spine grinned, "None really. Once the doctors got a look at your blood cultures they were  happy to hand them over.  And i do quote "The worst fucking case of perphoria any of us have seen in 100 years."

 She snorted, dumped two out into her hand and downed them, Then proceeded to chug half of the bottle of water. 

 Sprocket watched her sister as over the last few days of doing this, almost all of her color had returned and the icy cold she felt every time she touched the other girl was gone.  Sprocket was more than happy it had worked and was glad her baby sis was able to go back to a normal life. 

"It's good you got those things in time to feel better for the party, " She grinned, "Specter woulda been heart broken if you couldn't have come."

 "Yah," Pearl smiled, "I hope he likes the painting and the plushies and coloring book I made for him."

 Spine nodded, "I'm sure he will most ten year olds love stuffed animals," He paused and looked around, "Some people never get tired of them."

 Pearl smirked back at her narwhal army, finished her water and hopped off the bed.

"Now if you don't mind moving your feet daddy," She was about to poke her head back under the bed, "I STILL need to find that ribbon."

 A soft whine came from the doorway and all of them looked up to see Dex in his wolf form with the ribbon in his mouth. His mom Rabbit smiling from the doorway.

 "s-s-sorry Runt," She told pearl, "We-we wanted to use that color too."

 Pearl hopped up and headed over, "No problem. Thanks for bringing it back!"

 She got over there and got a hug from her auntie, "Glad your feeling better Runt."

 Pearl smiled and headed back to Sprocket to finish wrapping the gifts, "Thanks guys."

 Rabbit smiled again and then got serious for a second, "Spine? Can I talk to you f-f-for a bit? I Heard something serious."

 At the change in her tone The Silver Lord knew that something important was up and nodded, "Of course, Dex would you stay with the girls?"

The wolf moved in to the room to sit with his cousins and the Adults joined some of the others that were already gathered out there. 

 "... If they are in town then we are just going to have to watch out, "  Six  was telling everyone, "These jerks are getting more aggressive. We might have to do something to chase them out of town this time."

 "What about the kids?" Hatchworth asked, " IF they are screwing around they might try to hurt  them."

 Spine thought for a second, "If they come here we are going to have to fight them. All we can do is attempt to be ready. I don't want violence with these people if Its not needed. This war is pointless now anyhow. It's been pointless for the last fifty years. "

 salgexicon leaned on the wall and looked thoughtful, "You have a very valid point Spine. Maybe if they know her, see that peace is possible... the fighting will stop."

 Six looked at the other wizard, "OR that could put the kid in danger. These finatics might see that as an escalation on our part, not a move towards peace. "

 "What are they doing now?" Spine asked.

Rabbit replied, so serious her vocal tic was no place to be found, "For now, just moving around the city. People are keeping watch but so far they haven't done anything but walk around and look."

 Spine crossed his arms and thought for a second, "Alright then. IF they haven;t been aggressive there's no need for any of us to be aggressive. We do however need to make sure everyone is safe. No hunting in town until the jerks leave. If they get aggressive and start hurting people or come here. Then we will deal with it. "

  Everyone else nodded in agreement and went back to what they were doing, worries about the hunters still nagging at the back of their minds. 

A day passed however and nothing happened. No signs of aggression or moves to hurt people, indeed it seemed most of them had found what they were looking for and were moving out of town. 

It was this situation that the birthday party for Specter was set to take place in the garden out the back of the manor.  It was this situation that disaster would strike in. 

 A few seconds post candle blowing out and song singing and the Little blond boy was about to rip into his gifts when the night mare struck. 

"NOW!!" Someone screamed from the darkness around the garden and all hell broke loose.

"WE'RE HERE FOR SILVER LORD And THE WRAITH get out of our way and no one else has to be involved. "

 The garden and the party erupted into utter chaos, everyone either ran away from or towards  the people that were attacking. The sounds of weapons fire was heard all through the once peaceful house. Magic and other attacks nearly lit the air itself on fire. 

 The second that things changed everyone knew. With  a scream like someone was ripping both of their hearts out, both Spine and Delilah fell as the attackers accomplished what they came for.  

 One stood there about to fire a second round into Spine and ensure his death. When something small with golden curls got in front of him and begged, "PLEASE!! Please DON'T HURT MY UN'CA SPINE!!"

 The man lashed out at the child with his boot and then in a fit of anger pumped one of the rounds in the firearm into the child's body. Leaving the poor thing there scared, cold and dying. 

"STOP!!" one of the leaders ordered, " The objective is complete! FALL BACK!!"

The hunters vanished into the darkness and silence took over the garden.  Time seemed to slow down as two young daughters, A life long companion and broken hearted father, screamed and ran to the sides of the people they cared for, not knowing what had been done or if they would even be able to survive.

[tearofaeons]

CAN YOU GUSH ABOUT ONE OF YOUR LEAGUE F/OS? JHIN OR THRESH OR BOTH IF YOU'D LIKE :3 -reallyintouglyfos

YEAH!? ABSOLUTELY. @reallyintouglyfos​

I remember when i first started playing league :0 i preferred “passive” champs like Sona and Soraka, and refused to play tanks or anything that was “front line”, so, at the time, i didn’t like him for this exact reason. I saw his kit and playstyle as a big No Thanks.

“I could never play a champ like him!! he’s too aggressive”

So i pretended to hate him while secretly thinking he was kind of interesting, but you think i admitted it? no, i was a TOTAL TSUNDERE FOR ALMOST 2 YEARS!!!

Fastfoward to the day gave him a shot in a game of bots and then uhhh kept playing him non-stop for 4 weeks ._. and uh yeah. that’s how i fell in love with a skeleton. epic fail.

but i have my reasons ok.

But under read more because i’m shy òwò

He is! so! FUN! We “synergize” so well! so to speak. I can make plays and at the same time peel my ADC, which is great!! he’s my go-to support when i can’t play Sona -v-

So, he is a very cruel specter – obviously– but i really like this about him. I always enjoyed making the enemy team “suffer” by placing wards in the right places and never letting them kill the adc, so when i’m playing with him, doing that is even more fun! if that makes sense? it’s kind of like: “Oh i’m glad you’re enjoying this as much as i am!” but you know, in a more harmless way. Sometimes, i like to think we’re kind of like a team! c: and that i “help” him collect souls or something. I know that’s very OOC (he doesn’t need anybody) but, yeah

Oh!! that’s also something i like about him!! He’s very independent– he marches to the beat of his own drum. Something that i think is great about him is that when people try to stop/kill him, he doesn’t get mad, he’s just finds it very amusing, and says things like:

“Hm, really? you’re going to do that? well, i hope you don’t regret your decision…”

he’s just… so cocky… and i hate it dkjskdjsk bUT I LOVE IT.

Our personalities are very different! He finds joy in the misery of others, and likes to be the one causing it, but me? i get sad when other people are sad– i feel their pain. He’s eloquent and graceful, meanwhile i struggle to ask someone for a favor, and the list goes on! but, that’s something i like about him and our… dynamic? that we’re so different from each other! (  -ω- )و 

He is “incredible strong-willed and methodical” (as he was described in his lore) and well– isn’t that amazing? Imagine being locked with a bunch of haunted items that insult and prey on your insecurities, and being strong enough to endure it FOR YEARS. That’s impressive!

Tragically! he ended up giving in and slowly became who he is now. While what he went through doesn’t justify torturing people, it does adds layers to his characters, and offers potential ideas.

SPEAKING OF LAYERS, I could talk ALL DAY about the way his mind/brain works and the unique way in which he sees the world! he’s really interesting and fun to write! but,, hmm… i wont talk about that..Not today at least…. >v>

And, you know, if you think about it, he’s kind of like the embodiment of those thoughts that people get when holding something that’s easily breakable: what happens if i bend this thing? what happens if i break it? And hey!? i think that’s really cute! like!! stOP skdjskghdfjg.

He’s so creative! and enjoys experimenting and trying new things! when he isn’t using this talent to torture people (that seems to be a recurrent theme ;; >o>), he can actually do and create very impressive stuff. I like to think that if he was born in Piltover or Zaun, he would had been a renowned scientist–someone who, maybe, could have invented a lot of useful objects that help people in someway.

Also, this is more of a headcanon that’s somewhat supported by canon, but, the fact that he can look into someone’s soul/eyes and instantly know almost everything about them is comforting to me, it should be creepy, but i think is nice. Like, Oh? someone who knows what i’m thinking? not having to struggle to put my feelings into words because the other person already knows what i want to say? someone who knows exactly how i feel? amazing.

Although, he prefers to take his time and get to know and understand me without using his powers, he does this because, well, it’s more natural, but, also because he doesn’t want to look into my soul without permission-- He doesn’t want to intrude into my memories by accident and make me uncomfortable. He respects me and my boundaries, and gives me space when i need it :0 (WHICH I REALLY APPRECIATE, BY THE WAY).

I COULD GO ON BUT LET’S TALK ABOUT..... his design,,,,

LOOK AT HIM. WHAT A HANDSOME SPECTER, HOW DOES HE HAS SO MUCH STYLE?? HOW DOES ONE GET TO THIS LEVEL? IS IT BECAUSE OF THE BLACK MIST? BECAUSE IF IT’S, THEN BOY I’M PAYING THE ISLES A VISIT.

(Ugh.. .. his cape looks so comfortable… i want to wear it ;v;do you think he would mind if i borrowed it?)

tbh he makes me want to give all my OCs a scythe. I mean, just look at him?? he makes scythes look so cool, especially in his attack animations (You can look at them here!). See “Attack 1mid” for example, put it on slow-mo, and just notice the way he moves his arm over his head to avoid getting hit by the chain LI KE,  H UH UH? OH MYGOD?? 

also, the way his “hair” moves is 👌 👀 *click* NICE.

His animations are pretty great in general, so feel free to look at them if you want–especially Dark Star. They’re not as polished as the newest champions, but they’re still good, imo.

ALSO UHHHHH CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS VOICE?? is FRICKING fantastic!! both in english and spanish. The actors did an excellent job with him (imo), especially with his laugh. I mean, gosh… his LAUGH :‘v please listen to it, listen to that beautiful sound… (But be careful! it’s loud). I like all of his quotes, but my favorite ones are this one and this one.

And, for some reason, he has his own face on his scythe, which, i have to say, is really cute 💖 ;v;

!?!?! why is he cute!?!? SDKSJDKSJ STOP!! ;o; 

AND THAT’S NOT MENTIONING HIS OTHER SKINS I MEAN???

DARK STAR?? highgH NOOON!?

COULD I PLEASE have 20 more of these green little ghosts dudes thank u.

[aveyond-references]

Interview with Yvette (The Lost Orb)

TLDR: In the interest of preserving and sharing a fun bit of fandom history, I’m reuploading the pre-Aveyond 3 release interviews originally posted on the Amaranthia Forums. Shoutout to Specter for being the one to save them from the deleted Amaranth blog.

Here’s the pre-The Lost Orb Interview with Yvette. Sort of, you'll see.

Originally posted by shaz on January 3, 2010 as “Interview with Yvette".

Yvette, thank you for your time. Please have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Welcome, you are. All those other humans will need seats too, yes?

Other humans? Yes, the ones behind you. Waving to us, they are. Perhaps they want to have a party?

I turn around, to see who Yvette is referring to. There, steadily advancing up the hill, is a throng of Amaranthians, shouting, waving their arms in the air, some carrying picket signs, all looking none too happy. They were too numerous to count, and after seeing what looked to be a noose in someone's hand, I had no desire to take the time to count them.

Uh oh ... Something is wrong?

That, my friend, is not a party. That is a lynching mob! Listen, if you don't mind, we'll do this interview next week instead. For now, I suggest you find somewhere to hide.

Yvette giggles, then shapeshifts into a bird and flies safely out of reach.

I take one more look at the crowd, turn, and run, wishing I could be a shapeshifter too ...

Managing to stay just out of reach of the angry mob (it's true what they say - fear, wings, feet, all that stuff!), I dodge around barrels, between buildings, around the corner of the store, and run smack into Spook! Slightly dazed, it takes me a moment to formulate a plan that might allow me to live to see another sunrise.

I grab Spook's arm and swing him around, into the open area, to face the onslaught! Still in a state of shock, Spook offers no resistance.

"Look everyone, it's Spook!"

Instantly the crowd freezes. Arms are lowered, signs and other objects for inflicting pain are dropped, and faces are transformed from anger to awe.

"Spook!" I repeat.

"Spook ..." the crowd murmers in a subdued tone. Their eyes have all gone glassy. It worked!

Spook (quiet, but miffed): "What do you think you're doing?" Shaz: "I'm doing an interview with you." Spook: "I've already told you, no." Shaz: "I don't care." Spook: "If I refuse?" Shaz: "Then things are going to get ugly. Besides, this isn't multiple choice. I'm not asking you." Spook: "Very well, you may have your interview. But be warned, you will be in debt to me."

Yes! It worked! My having Spook's arm twisted into a potentially painful position behind his back may have been a contributing factor. Spook (slightly nervously): "What's wrong with them?" Shaz: "Don't worry - they're fine. Just smile and wave, and no-one will get hurt."

Everyone, Spook has finally found time in his busy schedule to grant us an interview. So, without further ado, I present:

Interview with Spook

Spook, can you tell us your occupation, and where you live? My occupation changes to suit my needs, and my home is wherever I need to be to do it.

Er ... okay. Folks, that translates to "I'm a thief, and I live in Peliad". Spook smiles and raises an eyebrow.

I believe you met Mel by helping her out of a tight spot? The kid was new in town and having a bit of trouble, so I gave her a hand.

Out of the goodness of your heart? Even someone in my occupation is capable of doing selfless things. It led to several more opportunities to help her, so I did.

Mel already has a number of companions helping her on her quest. What do you offer that they don't? Trust. Respect. A chance to grow. June and Yvette have their own reasons for being here. The Orc and the Prince are here because they think Mel needs to be protected. They think she's weak. She's capable of much more than they give her credit for, and I'm the only one who accepts that.

You don't think she needs protectors? No. To find this item she is seeking requires speed and stealth. Nothing more. Mel and I excel in those areas. If we didn't have the others slowing us down, we could complete her quest and move on.

What would you move on to, after this quest is over? I've been thinking a great deal about that. Mel is tough, and smart. She and I could do great things together.

So you envision a future with Mel? You know about Mel and Edward, right? Yes, and I know the Prince is jealous. I represent everything from her previous way of life - a way of life he is trying to take her away from.

That's very ... insightful of you. You don't mind, then? No. Mel can have more than one best friend. She is happy with that. The Prince is taking longer to accept it, but he will.

Well, you certainly have interesting views on things, and I would not have expected to hear this from ... From a thief? No, I suppose you wouldn't. Perhaps there is a lesson here, in not judging people based on their appearance.

So true. Well, Spook, I thank you for your time and your candid responses.

I release my more-relaxed grip on Spook's arm and allow him to leave. He glances back at the crowd, smiles a little nervously and waves, then turns to walk past me. As he passes, he whispers into my ear, "Remember, you owe me. Be prepared to deliver when the time comes."

I watch Spook leave, then turn back to the crowd, still standing, glassy-eyed, and staring after him.

I have no idea what favour Spook will ask, or when, but I'm not too concerned. Spook, I can handle. A crowd of crazed Amaranthians ... that's another matter entirely.

[cecilspeaks]

123 - A Story of Love and Horror, part 3: “Frances”

Who was that whistling, whistling in the dark? Was that you, my love, whistling, whistling in the dark? Welcome to Night Vale.

Frances Donaldson and Nazr al-Mujaheed were faced with a terrible choice. There are times, as humans, it feels like we are given more responsibility than we can handle. It feels as though the world is resting on our backs. And any decision we make could have implications for everyone else in the entire world. But of course, that’s not really the case. The truth is, while we might be able to ruin our own lives, or even a whole bunch of people’s lives, there are few who are ever put in the position where they can make even a ripple in the life of everyone on Earth.

But this was exactly the situation Frances and Nazr found themselves in. She had accidentally entered this Night Vale from a Night Vale in a different universe. If Nazr and Frances stayed together, the two of them could both phase out of reality and cease to exist. A powerful entity, the Brown Stone Spire, could make it so they could stay together safely, but only by destroying the universe she came from, and every person in it. There was no path forward for their love that did not end in horror. There was no path forward without horror that did not end their love.

“It’s clear what we have to do,” said Nazr sadly. “No two people are worth so many lives. We must go our separate ways.” Already he could see the long evenings alone in his office, watching tapes of football plays and trying to recapture the innocent happiness he used to feel doing his job. “It’s clear to you because you have other options,” said Frances. “You’re from this world, and you could find another to love. “I wouldn’t,” tried Nazr, but predictions like this can never carry the weight of truth, because who can predict the heart?” “You will find someone else,” she said. “And me, I will have to live alone forever or risk my own existence and the existence of everyone I entangled myself with. Can I even have close friendships or would those too result in an unraveling? Certainly  I would be afraid to risk it, and in that fear I would settle into a bleak loneliness.” He shook his head. “So what are you saying? That we should murder a universe of living beings?” “I’m saying,” she said, “that I love you, and I’d like to proceed from there.” After this argument, they didn’t talk or see each other for a few days. Both of them felt completely overwhelmed by the weight of the decision. Both of them pretended it was a settled question for themselves.

And now corrections. Despite previous reports, the ineffable isn’t real. It’s a joke, a trace. A sandwich left on a park bench. A misunderstood smile from an unfriendly crowd. The accidental arrangement of the sky. The distance from the Earth to the moon. The way grass feels when it gets a little dry. A hand reaching blindly into a drawer. A word spoken once and never again said aloud. A dream which seemed prophetic, but evaporated upon waking. A stain in a shirt that’s source is a mystery. A bird with three missing feathers. A math problem with no possible solution. A signpost to a place which never existed. It’s a trace, a joke. The ineffable isn’t real. We apologize for our previous mistaken report.

During the days apart, Frances and Nazr were not alone. They were not alone first in ways that were mundane and expected. For instance, Nazr had his team, and while he was distracted and morose, he was also determined not to let this affect the chances of his good kids. And so he forced himself to double his efforts when it came to practices. And if any of the team members of faculty thought anything about his behavior during this time, it was that he seemed especially dedicated and focused. And so therefor his relationship must be benefiting him.

Frances had her customers. And while an antique store doesn’t usually bustle, it does have a steady stream. And the goal is to sell a few high-end items a day, along with a good amount of cheap trinkets, so that it all evens out, and she would have enough money to eat for another month. She had friends, too, except now she felt they weren’t her friends. Her friends were back in another universe and the people here looked like her friends, but did not share exactly the same experiences this Frances remembered. She didn’t know if this should matter but felt that it did, and so avoided her friends. Her friends when they talked, thought she must be so focused on her happy relationship that she no longer had time for them, and they felt resentment. They did not resent her personally, but rather resented the situation.

But Frances and Nazr were not alone in a more malevolent way as well. Every evening, Barks Ennui visited each of them. Frances no matter where she went would find him sitting next to her. He would sigh. “Frances!” he would say softly. “Frances!” The voice was almost kind, but his eyes were pivoted toward her unnaturally, giant 2-D sources on a 3-dimensional yellow snout. “Frances, oh Frances,” he would murmur until she slept or thought she slept. He was less gentle with Nazr. With Nazr, he screamed. No words, merely a high keening in the living room as Nazr tried to watch game tapes, or in the bathroom as he washed his teeth. First a mundane quiet and then suddenly a huge dog screaming, cartoon eyes and cartoon mouth both gaping in terror. Why was Barks afraid? He was the specter who was haunting Nazr, but Barks was afraid. This made Nazr even more afraid. “Stop screaming!” he would scream back, but Barks didn’t seem to hear.

And now sports news. Now I’m a big fan of Night Vale football, because I love our town, and our kids who are out there playing, and our fabulous coaching staff. But to be honest, I’m often a little shaky on how the sport works, so I thought I’d try a little experiment. I will now attempt, without looking up anything or consulting anyone lese, to explain the rules of football form memory. Let’s see, the kids enter the field. Uh, there’s a lot of them, they’re all padded up and ready. Uh, “hoorah” they say, and others shout: “let’s get the football!” They are there to get the football. They line up facing each other, uh someone shouts some numbers that they like, in order to get them in a happy headspace before starting the game, and then the football is thrown weird. It could be thrown much easier, but they throw it in a weird way. The quarterback catches the ball, mostly, uh sometimes they miss and that’s a foul. But if they catch it, then they try to sneak it down the field. The ball needs to get going, but no one can know the team is doing it, and so they try to act nonchalant. Oh, and also the slam dance with the other team in order to show that they’re only there to party. And no football is going down the field, mm mm, no way. [whispers] But it is!

The other team figures this out and jumps at the football. Eventually, the football is carried to what is called the “end zone”, because it’s a zone at the end of the field. There it transforms from a leather bag into a victory. There is more dancing, uh you know football is mostly about dancing. There’s some other stuff like sometimes it turns into soccer for a little bit and they bring on a soccer player to do that, but mostly it’s about dancing and sneaking, which are two of my favorite activities. Wow! No wonder I love football. This has been sports news.

Nazr and Frances made the night as romantic as they could. They lit candles, because the risk of house fires is of course very romantic. They had flowers on the table, because the reminder of how plants grow is considered a great aphrodisiac among people who get really revved up about plants. Neither Nazr or Frances were one of those people, but still, it couldn’t hurt. “It’s not too late,” she said. “We could still be together.” This didn’t help the romantic mood. “We couldn’t,” he said. “What would we become if we caused so much loss, just for our own petty happiness?” “Is that what this is?” she said. “Petty?” “No,” he said, “it’s just… what isn’t petty against the span of all of it?” “To me,” she said, “You aren’t. You aren’t.” But he could not be persuaded. She gave up and instead, she kissed him. He had never felt such a kiss, because he had never before kissed anyone out of a quiet and desperate grief. I don’t recommend that context to any of my listeners, but it does make for one hell of a kiss. 

Then she left his house. Nazr sat all night with the decision they had made. It was the correct decision. But if that was true, then why did he feel so completely like a person buried under rocks or locked into a cell with no light for months? He felt as though he would never take another free breath of air. There was no longer an other version of himself in his home, but it also felt to him that perhaps there was no one in his home. That the version of himself that was a human being existed only in the past tense, and from here on out, there was only this quotation of Nazr. And out of context excerpt stripped of meaning.

He stood for a while before walking down to his car and pulling it out of the garage. It was almost morning. The Radio Shack wasn’t open and packed with technology-craving customers yet, so he parked there and walked the rest of the way up to the humming Spire. He fell to his knees. This wasn’t his decision to make, but he had already made the decision. “Brown Stone Spire,” he said. “I’ve made my choice. Destroy the other universe. I have to be with her, no matter what.” The Spire did not reply. “Please,” he shouted. He slapped his palms against the hard packed earth again and again until they stung. “Please, I’ve decided! Destroy the other universe!” The Spire hummed to life. “It is done,” said a voice from deep in its core. Nazr, murderer of billions, walked away slowly toward his car.

The ending of our story coming up. But hey, let’s check in on today’s weather.

[“Pieces and Pieces” by The Rough and Tumble]

At first, Nazr walked with shame. But what use, after all, was shame? He had done what he had done so he and the woman he loved could live together in happiness. It would be a waste of everything, the worst of all possible outcomes, if he had agreed to such a monstrous price, only to have any possible renumerative happiness ruined by the guilt of what he had done. He made the decision then and there to leave it behind him. By the time he had reached his car, still waiting in the Radio Shack parking lot as if nothing of import had happened in the intervening minutes. He had set aside the choice as a matter of the past, and started to feel the first spark of joy in his heart.

For the last few weeks, he had felt a strangeness, which he now knew was the feeling of falling out of step with reality. And now, the feeling was gone. He felt human again. He started the car, drove directly to Frances’ house. He couldn’t wait to see her. He had never felt such a complete hunger for another person, but it’s possible no one in all of history had ever paid such a price to be with another person.

And there was that person before him, tending to her garden in the cool morning sun. he did not think about a universe and everyone in it, including another version of Frances who no longer existed. He thought about this Frances. He watched her for a long moment from his car, feeling a blissful lack of urgency. They had a life together. What would a few more minutes be? So he let those minutes pass, watching her work, and then he stepped out of the car and approached her. She looked up with a smile. “Hiya,” she said. “I did it,” he said. “I went to the Spire and I did it.” He realized he was crying, but he was also smiling. She frowned, stood, took a step back. “Did what?” she said. “What do you mean  I-,” he said. “I made the choice, you were right.” She held the clippers in front of her, not quite towards him, but not quite not. “Sorry,” she said. “Maybe this is something that the other Frances would understand? I suppose a certain confusion was going to be unavoidable, but I do wish you’d calm down.” “The other Frances? In the other universe?” He did not know what was going on. “Sure,” she said. “Sweet lady, or is that immodest? Anyway, she told me that she asked the Brown Stone Spire to take her back to her own universe where I had been stuck. She said we had gotten mixed up, and things weren’t working out for her here. So she showed me how to come back to my world and she went back to hers. She said at least we’d have a chance at happiness this way. She also said he hoped you were as nice in her world as you are in ours.” She eyed Nazr’s sweaty face, the desperate lean of his posture. “Are you nice, Nazr?” “She went back,” he said. Not a question but a surrender. “To her world. To her… universe.” “Yes,” said a Frances who barely knew him at all. “Now I’m sorry, but I do want to get back to my gardening.” Nazr returned to his car, but had nowhere he wanted to go. He watched the Frances who was not his Frances, but she glared at him, so he drove aimlessly and stopped again. His Frances was gone, along wither entire universe. Before hew as aware of it, he was already shouting . “Please, let me reverse it!” he shouted. “Please take it back!” Barks Ennui, in his awkward 3-dimensional body, was sitting on the passenger seat. “There is no taking it back,” said Barks. “But I will make you a one-time offer. If you like, I will let you join her in oblivion. It is not mere death, it is an absolute ceasing of existence, forever. Blip, and you’ll be gone. Do you want this?” Nazr looked into the dog’s distended eyes. He looked and looked. Two weeks later, he returned to school. He went back to football, re-doubled his dedication to his team. A complete focus on football may not be much of a life to many folks, but it is a life. There are many different kinds of life, and most of them are nothing special at all. Frances, a different woman quite literally from the one we started this story with, continued to run the Antiques Mall. What delighted her most was how objects existed here, in the moment, that everything existed all at once, right now. She loved the present. She thought little about tie. Outside her window, a plane passed overhead. No one watched ist passing.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: We regret to inform you that this entire podcast series has been viral marketing for Dippin’ Dots. We don’t think we made that obvious enough and we’re panicking a little. Please tell someone to try Dippin’ Dots today. We are going to be in so much trouble.

[eloraplayforfree]

Sable offers an entire world of things to explore, but it doesn't tell you everything upfront. Honestly, you should go in blind, as simply exploring and logically looking around empty spaces on your map will often give you enough of an idea to get around. But if you're the type of person who likes to have a better idea of ​​what they're in for, I've whipped up some quick tips for you to more easily get your bearings in Sable. Rev up your hoverbike and put on your favorite pants, because it's time to glide through the wasteland. The worms are your stamina You'll see these little guys dancing around all over the place. They're called Chum Eggs, and they're how you increase your maximum stamina in Sable. Always prioritize collecting them. They can be returned to the Chum Queen in the Western section of the region you entered immediately after you finished the tutorial. Just look at the horizon and you pretty much can't miss it. Simply head inside at the base (don't try to climb it) and you'll find the Queen inside. Every time you turn in her required number of eggs, you'll get 50% of your starting stamina added to the pool. Most quests can be found in settlements The majority of Sable's quests will obviously be where the people are. There are several major settlements, each with their own quests on offer. You'll find them as long as you thoroughly search around, plus some are pretty hard to miss considering their size. When it comes to getting badges, completing quests is your best bet, so it's a good idea to keep those in mind. You can also find any quest items without actually taking on said quest, so you can even turn in a quest immediately after accepting it if you've already found what the quest giver was looking for. Look to the balloons You can buy a map for each of Sable's six main regions. Doing this isn't all that important, as it just colors in the landscape on your map. What is horribly useful is that you can fast travel to these sections and talk to the cartographers there. They'll tell you all about a region's main points of interest, plus, you'll even be able to see many of these from up high on the balloons. Simply put, when you find a region's balloon, you gain ready access to important information and a great vantage point. Fast travel treks Any time you see a location's name show up on screen while playing Sable, it gets added to your map. All you need to do is select the icon and you can fast travel right to it along with your bike. As such, you'll definitely want to keep exploring a place until the name pops up if you're planning on heading elsewhere. Otherwise, you'll need to find the location all over again. There are more badges than you need You need three badges to get a mask in Sable, but that doesn't mean that there are only three of each badge. Even if you miss out on some quests, you can still find enough badges. For instance, the guard badge is one of the game's freebies. You can get three from a single character as long as you track her down as she changes locations. You'll find her at the very first settlement and she even tells you where she's going. But there are more guard badges to get ahold of than just her three. Final Sable tips: Some money and scrap respawns If you're worried about running out of money, well, don't worry so much. After a certain amount of time has passed, the contents of certain areas will refill themselves. This is especially important when it comes to downed ships, which often have multiple chests and scrap containers to loot. If you're running low, consider making your way back to these places after a while. Plus, selling off enough scrap will get you three badges you can use to get a mask, and this game is all about new wearable items. That's all for our Sable tips. Just keep your eyes peeled and you'll get where you're going. The point of the game is the journey, after all. Posted in Guides Tagged with Raw FurySableShedworks ShareTweetPinShare 0 Andrew FarrellAndrew Farrell has an extreme hearing sensitivity called hyperacusis that keeps him away from all loud noises. Please do not throw rocks at his window. That is rude. He loves action and rpg games, whether they be AAA or indie. He does not like sports games unless the sport is BASEketball. He will not respond to Journey psych-outs. Colorful cute-'em-up Flewfie's Adventure available today on SteamPrevious article You may also like Sable review – So now I wander alone By Andrew Farrell1 day ago Reviews Kena: Bridge of Spirits — Quick tips for new spirit guides By Andrew Farrell2 days ago Guides Genshin Impact: How to complete Sangonomiya Kokomi's story quest By Jason Rodriguez2 days ago Guides More in Guides Genshin Impact: How to complete the Raiden Shogun's story quest By Jason Rodriguez2 days ago Guides Genshin Impact: Sangonomiya Kokomi guide — Weapons, artifacts, and talents By Jason Rodriguez3 days ago Guides Genshin Impact: Specter locations and Spectral Heart farming guide By Jason Rodriguez3 days ago Guides

[archmage--khadgar]

RIP? (I dont know if i want this, but lets see how dramatic is going to be)

(*SIPS TEA* Very drafty, as always. I pretty much do the first draft and post ‘em up. Like all the writing draft prompts that aren’t starters, it is 100% okay to reblog them for other to read! Enjoy!)The rest of the council stood in patient irritation silently as they waited for Khadgar to show up. He was late, very late, but despite their annoyance, they all hoped that it was from getting lost in research and not because…They quickly pushed such thoughts out of their heads.A portal opened nearby and an exhausted-looking Khadgar stumbled out of it. A collective sigh of relief was heard from the others before they began to scold him for his tardiness. Khadgar grinned sheepishly as he apologized.“Forgive me! Business in Karazhan. I hadn’t expected it to keep me for so long.”“Again? Khadgar, why do you keep going back there? Its wealth of knowledge is vast, yes. But there are plenty of champions in training that could easily -”“No, no. Best I do it whenever I can. No one knows that place better than I. No use in risking others.”Kalec and Modera exchanged glances and then shrugs before going into Council business.

Khadgar restlessly wandered around the room, muttering comments to himself as the other members spoke. Every so often he’d engage but was largely ignoring the meeting.  Kalec’s ears perked up a little when Khadgar went by him - demonic. Khadgar was muttering things in demonic. Flecks of blue scales shimmered onto Kalec’s skin and he quickly turned towards the Archmage.“Khadgar, what are you DOING?”  He couldn’t shift fully since he wouldn’t fit, but he was willing to take the fight outside if need be. Modera and the others looked over in confusion. Kalec wasted no time in alerting them to what Khadgar had been muttering.Was it a joke? Had he finally gone mad? All they saw was an inhuman grin, and all they heard was a few utterings in demonic before everything….The chaos went by so quickly, and yet, felt like an eternity. Most of the tower was damaged or destroyed by the explosion, but some quick spell work saved most of the people inside. The council, at least, was safe. When the dust settled each member looked at the others to see who had been quick with their fingers.  Much to their surprise, none of them had cast the barrier that protected them all - including Khadgar from the blast. It didn’t take long to figure out who did once they realized it wasn’t one of them. And HIS presence was more of a surprise than Khadgar’s apparent betrayal.Lips pursed together to try and hide a smile and standing in between Khadgar and the Council, was Medivh. He wagged his finger back and forth at his “apprentice” disapprovingly. “Tsk. Sloppy work. You should have paid more attention to your surroundings.”Khadgar snorted. “It didn’t matter who was here as long as the council -”“I wasn’t talking to you.” Medivh glanced back at the four Archmages with a disappointed frown. “Please. I know my young trust is eccentric, but when was the last time you ever saw him act as such?” Modera flinched, scolding herself for not speaking up sooner when she had noticed. Kalec looked a bit uncomfortable as well, he should have detected the foul magic sooner.  Medivh brushed the front of his robes and turned his attention back to Khadgar.“Now. I’ve dealt with your aftermath a few times, and quite frankly. I am tired of you after this. I am insulted that you would take the appearance of an old friend and student, and sully the good image he tries so hard to maintain. Come, come now. Drop the disguise, you may not have killed anyone but you did manage to sneak in. Surely you feel the need to brag?”Kalec swore under his breath as a Dreadlord appeared in Khadgar’s place. At least it hadn’t had copied Jaina. The Demon opened his mouth to, indeed, brag about how easy it is to infiltrate Dalaran despite all the mages, but was cut off mid-sentence by the very, very angry former Guardian. It let out a howl as it was destroyed and had its soul sent back to the Twisting Nether. It would be back someday, but for now, it got to wallow in its failure.  The Aspect studied Medivh for a moment, pulling his thoughts together.“How long has Khadgar -”“Oh, just today. Don’t worry. I can assure you that every other day was indeed, my old apprentice.”“Where’s Khadgar?” Modera asked worriedly. Then she noticed it.Atiesh.Medivh had Atiesh.The Dreadlord’s staff had clearly been part of the illusion, but it was clear as day that what Medivh had was the real one. Voice shaking, she asked again as the others finally noticed as well, and looked on in horror, terrified of his answer.“Medivh….where is Khadgar.”

Earlier that day, Medivh had sensed trouble back in the halls of Karazhan. He didn’t want to return, figuring Khadgar would sense the same trouble and investigate himself. But when the feeling didn’t abate, curiosity got the better of him and he made the trip back to his old home. Upon returning, he sensed the presence of his old apprentice and contemplated leaving. But something was wrong, the aura was weak and there was the unmistakable signature of fel in the air. Not that, Karazhan wasn’t already crackling with various energies, but this was different. It was fresh. The Magus quickly investigated the rooms in halls in a silent panic, his main focus was to find Khadgar. And his heart broke when he did.Slumped up against a bookcase with a demonic blade through his chest and pinning him there, was Khadgar. Still alive, but barely. The fel corruption had ashened his complexion and was eating away at him. Atiesh was laying on the floor out of reach, and there was blood on the blade and his hands from his failed attempts to pull it out. Medivh quickly went to Khadgar’s side, who perked up at seeing his old Master.“Ah. I -told- you there was a demon in the Library.” Khadgar gently teased.Medivh couldn’t help but smile at the jab, remembering a moment many years ago when he ignored Khadgar’s insistence that he and Garona had dealt with such a beast. “So there was young trust. So there was. You still need to clean up the mess you made, however.” There was a brief moment of silence before either of them spoke again.“I’m sorry, Khadgar. I should have come sooner. The corruption has spread too much, there is nothing -”“I know. I know. I already tried everything I knew. It’s okay. To be honest. I could use the rest! There are new heroes on Azeroth now. Many don’t even know who I am aside from being that Archmage that asks for ridiculous amounts of items who also likes to party.”Another moment of silence.“I should….I will bring you to Dalaran while you still breathe. You should die at home, not here among cobwebs and dust.”“I am home.”“Dalaran is your home.”“Karazhan, is my home.” Khadgar insisted, giving his former master a stern, but soft expression. Holding in his emotions best he could, Medivh nodded, attempting to make Khadgar as comfortable as he possibly could. “Then welcome home, Young Trust. Welcome home.” He brushed some debris out of Khadgar’s hair with his hand.“You’ll need to come up with a new introduction,”  Moroes spoke up from the shadows. “If you’re not Khadgar from Dalaran.”Khadgar gave a pained laugh but nodded in agreement.“Khadgar, of Karazhan, the Young Trust, of Karazhan.” It was hard not to laugh.It was harder to hear his laughter stop.Modera waited patiently to hear Medivh’s answer. But his silence hurt the longer it lasted.Until eventually, there was no question.The realization hit the Council hard, with only four members it would be difficult to perform many of the tasks required of them. And of course, it was a huge loss to the effort against the legion and the loss of a friend.  They wanted to know how, when, and where was his body? There was little surprise when Medivh relayed Khadgar’s wish to die in Karazhan and not there, in Dalaran. After taking a brief moment to collect themselves, the Council quickly set out to alert the appropriate individuals. A proper, public mass service could be held after the war was over, but for now, anyone close to the Archmage who wish to pay their respects would be given the option. They had decided to bury him on the grounds of Karazhan as well, feeling that that was the most appropriate. There wasn’t much to say, not from the lack of words but because no one could bring themselves to speak. One by one, Khadgar’s closest friends left the fresh grave to return to their duties until Medivh was the last one.  Gripping Atiesh tightly, he knew he had to make a choice. The absence of Khadgar in this effort would be noticed, and a devastating strike to moral. He could easily leave again, be he was also the only one who could replace Khadgar in terms of skill, power, and knowledge.  He would give staying some thought, retiring inside to contemplate a formal return. Medivh entered the messy library lost in thought and was caught off guard by the specter he saw pulling a book off the shelf.It was Khadgar. Unmistakably Khadgar, Medivh had had his concerns that dying here would damn Khadgar’s spirit to wander these halls like so many others, but he quickly found peace when he further observed the ghost.There was no curse. Khadgar was young, unburdened by the visage of an old man that he had acquired upon freeing his master from the clutches of Sargeras.  The only white in his hair was the skunk stripe that his former apprentice already had had upon his arrival to Karazhan as a boy.  Death, ironically, had restored his youth and retained his curiosity and thirst for knowledge.  He seemed unaware of Medivh, reading a book eagerly on draconic. However, after a moment the eager boy turned and smiled up at his master.“Mag-…Medivh! This book is fascinating! Can you teach me how to say these words properly? If I ever meet a dragon, I wish to impress them! And maybe also…to be able to read any scrolls they may produce on magic….” He held the book out with eager anticipation. And with a warm smile, Medivh took the book.“Of course, my boy. Whatever you wish to know. I will teach you. We have all the time in the world now. My sickness is gone, I am well again, my apprentice. Any book, anytime, any day. Just bring it to me and I will teach you.” He placed a hand gently on Khadgar’s spectral cheek and felt his fingers chill with the ethereal static. The image seemed blissfully unaware of the emotion in Medivh’s voice as the man stroked his cheek with his thumb. “I’m proud of you, Khadgar. I am so, so very proud of you.”  Khadgar beamed, and a moment later, faded away.  Medivh grabbed at the air, not wanting him to leave. That settled it. He would stay.His apprentice needed him.Medivh didn’t always see Khadgar. But he noticed that the library was tidier, that sometimes his lab equipment had been used or there were scrying materials set out. And every so often, a book would find its way onto Medivh’s desk. Which he would always promptly read out loud as if giving a lecture to a curious, invisible student. And he would always find lecture notes and questions on his table after he finished.