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shimmershae · 4 years ago

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So. I have some more thoughts. Shocking? Yeah, I know, lol.

Let’s see if I can figure out how to purge what’s inside of my overactive brain and have it make some semblance of sense, shall we?

Hmm.

Where to start, where to start?

Okay. So I think it’s safe to say that the flashbacks pretty quickly establish that Daryl has essentially been set adrift. He’s been cast back, in some ways by his own choosing, into a solitary searching life that speaks to his past. He has no anchor anymore, no touching stone--whether that be Rick, who’s presumed dead, or Carol, who’s chosen by default to leave him behind and try to make a new family in Ezekiel and Henry.

That’s important. Because until this season? Until he really matured and assumed, grudgingly or otherwise, the mantle of leadership of the communities?

Daryl was a follower. He took his cues from other stronger personalities. Other people more quick to voice and own their opinions, right or wrong. Like Rick. And Merle before him.

That’s not to say Daryl hasn’t had anything of value to say or add to the communities or to his relationships. He has and he did. Remember back at the Prison how Carol told him he was going to have to live with the love? Daryl was just beginning to find his voice, so to speak. He was emerging, even if they were only baby steps at first, from other seemingly more formidable shadows, and learning even then how to be more of a leader that people looked up to even if he was still content to be a follower.

Being a follower was what he was comfortable with and I’m making some assumptions here, but I’d wager that in his abusive past with his old man, in that household first with Merle then on his own, being a follower and sticking to the safety of the periphery is probably what kept him alive. Being a follower minimized conflict then, I’m sure. Being a follower when he met up with and eventually connected with Rick and the rest of Team Family was probably the safest way for him to make emotional connections.

I’m rambling. I know it and I’m sorry. It’s what I do. Ramble, lol.

Here. I’m going to place the rest of this underneath a cut because I got more winding words than I have wind and most of ya’ll have patience.

With Rick gone, with Carol off trying her damndest to live a fairy tale, Daryl floundered. For all intents and purposes, he was left without any direction, nobody to take his cues from emotionally or otherwise.

I mean, he literally made ever-widening circles searching for Rick, didn’t he? Circles have no end point. They have no real destination. Not really. Daryl essentially lived in a spin cycle of pain and regret and inability to really and truly connect with anybody during those years spent searching for Rick--especially since the person he arguably felt closest to and most comfortable with, Carol, basically decided those past connections Daryl was so desperate to find again were too painful for her and attempted to move on.

He wasn’t emotionally equipped to or stable enough (perhaps still internally dealing with his anger and angst over his torture and imprisonment by Negan at that point in time) to put in the hard work to reestablish those fraying bonds on his own and the man basically lost the plot. His world narrowed down to this latest search. This search for a body. For closure. For a new purpose perhaps?

And you know, the man had to be tired. In some way or another? He’s probably been searching his entire life. It’s kind of what followers do. They look for meaning outside themselves because they don’t feel like they’re enough.

So then Dog, in the form of this happy, accepting, affectionate puppy appears out of nowhere. He’s a welcome distraction and knowing Daryl’s propensity to try to reunite the lost with those they love, he started a new little search.

That led him to Leah.

Leah, who was alone. Like him. Leah, who knew how to survive. Like him. Leah, who was stuck in a place of grief. Like him.

Leah, who--and I don’t really feel like I’m going out on too far or precarious limb here considering how many parallels they literally slapped us in the face with during this episode--reminded him of someone he felt he couldn’t have, not even her friendship anymore because by her choosing to ‘be there’ for Ezekiel and Henry and the Kingdom she was always leaving Daryl behind and that’s a pattern we’ve all long suspected has really caused hurt for Daryl even if he’s long ‘accepted’ and dealt with it with stoicism.

Boy, they really blew the lid off that issue didn’t they? Oh, it was done rather quietly and in a surprisingly controlled manner, but the hurt it caused? The tears and emotion it elicited was brought about with an almost surgical precision that stunned Carol, but I digress.

My point is? Daryl? Innate follower that he is? Daryl had grown accustomed to the human connection he found with Team Family. He was never 100% comfortable with it but he missed it. He craved it. And Rick? Well, deep down Daryl knew the likelihood of finding his ‘brother’ was minimal. And with Carol pulling away and putting more and more distance between them--how deep and wide was that river, ya’ll, before the episode was done? when it started off looking like a small trickle of a stream? how wide was that chasm these two idiots in painfully unspoken love allowed to be formed between them?--essentially the two closest people to him were lost to him, leaving him lost.

So he stumbles upon this woman who is very reminiscent of people that he’s known. He’s figured out, even though he keeps trying to buck the trend, that you really can’t make it alone in the world anymore. And when she shows him some small measure of trust by letting him go? That part of him that didn’t want to be alone kept drifting back into her sphere.

Now I’m not going to go so far as saying Daryl fell in love with this Leah. Because, shipping biases aside? I really don’t feel like he did.

Daryl found solace with Leah.

Companionship.

Remember another time when Daryl was lost? When he felt he had failed another member of his family? Lost what he thought was the last of his family? How alone he was at a crossroads when Joe’s group of Claimers came along?

I’m not equating Leah with the Claimers in any other way except saying Daryl was in a similar headspace when he met her, okay? Before anybody goes off on me. I’m just saying that Leah? She represented what Daryl felt was his one chance NOT TO BE ALONE.

Daryl’s emotionally stunted, ya’ll. He’s made great strides, but trauma always seems to regress him. Thankfully, it seems to regress him less and less as he really and truly matures, but it still has a habit of reverting him back to the Daryl we first met. The Daryl we can easily see growing up in Merle’s shadow.

When he threw that damn fish at her door, I literally laughed for ten straight minutes because that was funny as hell. But honestly? The more I thought about it, the more it dwelled in my mind? The sadder it actually made me because here’s a grown man essentially trying to connect with another human being on an adolescent level.

So much of what we were shown in this episode really just reinforced what I’d already suspected to be true--Daryl Dixon just doesn’t ‘get’ the basics of interpersonal relationships. At least those that could be perceived as romantic. For all that Carol mused it was like he had become a man back in Atlanta, during Consumed and their search for Beth? That man is still very much trying to fumble his way out of the starting gate so far as pursuing a woman in any form or fashion.

This is just my opinion and we all know what they say about those, lol, but Daryl has longed for an even deeper connection with Carol since the Prison. Maybe even before that. I think at the Farm his eyes were opened to her and he started trying to be a better person to match what he perceived as her goodness. Before he even knew she wanted one, he was trying to be a man of honor. Then stuff and thangs happened and shit, like Daryl once told Abe, just never settled. Carol drifted out of Daryl’s reach because he wasn’t equipped with the emotional tools to really go after what he wanted--her in a deeper, different capacity than he’d ever wanted or asked for before--and shit, ya’ll. If loneliness is a choice then Daryl Dixon was sick and damn tired of it.

Do I think there’s even really a choice between Leah and Carol in Daryl’s mind though? A true choice were he to absolutely, 100% realize and know that Carol’s heart was earmarked for him from the very beginning and that she’s suffering from the same delusions that she’s not good enough or deserving of him?

Absolutely not.

Leah knew that even if Daryl never divulged any specifics about Carol. She knew the answer to her ultimatum before she even made it.

And that ultimatum, ya’ll.

Maybe it’s weird, but it put me in mind of when Merle pressed Daryl to make a choice between him and Team Family.

Merle was blood family but like Carol and others said, he wasn’t good for Daryl.

Leah might have offered Daryl some solace from his loneliness but ultimately staying isolated with her and not reconnecting with those he identifies as family is just as damaging as Daryl choosing to follow in Merle’s wake again. Similarly to that situation, Daryl was clearly torn as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Between loyalty to family and unspoken love.

In case there’s any confusion here, the unspoken love I’m talking about is his love for Carol. He felt something for her back at that Prison. Fight me. He knew she’d be hurt by him going back with Merle, but obligation and family loyalty led him to make the decision all the same.

Still. He knew she’d understand. And she did, even if his choice hurt her.

My thought is that this time? At least initially? Daryl didn’t completely separate his loyalty to family (searching for Rick) and his unspoken love (for Carol) when he made his decision. They’re hopelessly entwined because Carol is a little bit of everything to Daryl--friend, family, the woman he loves and has been halfway in love with for so many years. Initially, he chose the hope that both would come back to him if he just kept searching. Because searching’s what he does. From Sophia to Connie, he’s always searched in the hope of bringing the lost back to those that love them. He’s always searched because nobody searched for him.

Daryl is the ultimate lost boy who grew to be a man and still feels like he hasn’t been found.

But how can he be found if the one person he wants to find him keeps running away?

Daryl didn’t choose Leah.

Not from his heart.

Daryl turned back to Leah because he felt Carol slipping away to where he couldn’t follow her.

If it can even be argued that Daryl chose Leah, it was by default. Of course, he feels guilty. Daryl wouldn’t be Daryl without guilt. He wouldn’t be Carol’s man of honor.

And he is Carol’s man.

She may not be in the place to see it--YET--but she’s getting there. She’s fighting hard against her natural inclination to run. She’s trying. She knows what she wants, even if she doesn’t believe she has the hope of getting it.

Daryl knows what he wants, too. He knows, once and for all, where he belongs. He’s stopped searching. He knows she’s right there. There’s no more circles. There’s just a final destination if he can convince the love of his fucking life to stop running from what they both want.

He may have left that note for Leah, but you can’t convince this viewer that he didn’t write those words for Carol.

And that’s all I got to say about that.

For now anyway.

Omigosh, lovelies.

So sorry for the emotional word vomit but thank you so much for indulging me even if I did lose my original point somewhere up there, lol.

#The Walking Dead #Season 10C spoilers #Caryl #Carol x Daryl #Carol Peletier #Daryl Dixon #Melissa McBride #Norman Reedus #gorgeous people #my precious babies in love #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #my heart

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obaewankenope · 4 years ago

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The Second Life of Sandu Shengshou

Thanks to a dream I had several nights ago, I ended up writing this. It’s the beginning of a Multi-chaptered fic that can be read on AO3 here. I’m not even remotely sorry for this.

Not in the slightest.

One

The day Sect Leader Jiang dies is a day that the entire cultivation world remembers. For them, the passing of the Jiang Sect Leader is an event not to be ignored or celebrated. It is a day to remember his amazing deeds; losing his entire Sect to the Wen and then rebuilding it from the ground up; becoming a living legend during the Sunshot Campaign; fighting and killing the Yiling Laozu; raising the son of his beloved A-Jie into a fine young man who took the mantle of Jin Sect Leader well; being part of revealing the truth of Jin Guangyao’s deceit to the entire cultivation world; fighting fierce corpses and holding demonic cultivators to account for their crimes.

The day Sect Leader Jiang dies is one to remember his deeds and those of his brother, the last of his family beside the Sect Leader Jin.

For Sect Leader Jiang, it’s just another day of enduring a tired soul and a damaged heart, pasted back together with anger and grief. He expects the day to end with his finally seeing his family and those of his Sect who died in the Wen attack, again.

He closes his eyes, takes his last breath, and lets go. The heavens greet him and Jiang Cheng sees his family once more.

He doesn’t expect to take another breath until his next reincarnation which will hopefully be happier than his current one has been.

Jiang Cheng does not expect to cough dusty air from his lungs and open his eyes to the sight of a fierce corpse intent on killing him.

Instinct honed by battle and years of training serve him well as Jiang Cheng kicks out at the corpse, sending it careening back with an application of spiritual energy. His hand scrambles for his sword, for Zidian but finds only dirt. He has no weapon but his body and his core.

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth. So be it.

He jumps to his feet, stumbling when the strength of his core seems greater than his body can handle, but recovers well enough to drop into a open-handed stance. The corpse moves toward him at speed and, just as it is close enough for Jiang Cheng to strike, somebody slams into it and away from him.

In the moment it takes Jiang Cheng to register the identity of the person who just barrelled into a fierce corpse, a half-dozen purple-robed cultivators appear from the darkness of what he realises are trees. He’s in a forest. The humidity in the air tells him its a Yunmeng forest, but figuring out where he is suddenly isn’t important anymore when he gets a glimpse of some of the faces of the cultivators.

_He recognises them. _

Shidi’s he’d seen slaughtered by Wen-dogs. His disciples, his responsibility and here they are; coming to his rescue like he was a child again.

Is this his heaven?

Jiang Cheng looks around. He’s in a small clearing, ground recently disturbed by what he assumed had been the fierce corpse rising. A glimmer of silver on the ground reveals Sandu’s location and he immediately picks it up, relieved to have it in his grip again.

Everything is easier with Sandu.

“Drop it Corpse!”

Jiang Cheng looks in the direction of the fierce corpse that had attacked him, expecting it to be holding something, but it was down on the ground, pinned by a very, very familiar blade.

His father’s.

That was his father’s sword. That meant-

“I said, drop it!” Someone shouts. Fifth shidi, Jiang Cheng guesses, judging by the tone.

He looks at the children he’d seen die once, and realises, with a jolt, that fifth shidi is talking to him!

“What? I’m not a corpse!” Jiang Cheng exclaims and then almost let’s out a surprised shout because his voice—his voice.

He sounds like a child!

Jiang Cheng looks down at his hands gripping Sandu. Those are not the hands of a Sect Leader of one-hundred-and-three years. Those are- those-

“A fierce corpse cannot speak.” His father’s voice, the voice of Jiang Fengmian. “My son is dead, who are you to use his body so?”

Pingheng glows a pale violet in his father’s grip and Jiang stares at his father, open mouthed.

“What?”

Jiang Fengmian’s face looks like it’s carved from ice with no emotion to speak of. He looks more like Hanguang-Jun than the father Jiang Cheng remembers.

It’s incredibly disconcerting.

“I’m not- but- what!”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t understand what is happening. If this is heaven for him until he reincarnates then it sucks.

“Who are you?” Jiang Fengmian’s voice grows as cold as his expression and Jiang Cheng realises that it wasn’t just his mother that he got his temper from. His father’s is colder, but no less intense.

“I’m Jiang Cheng!” He is and he doesn’t understand what is happening but he’s not going to be anyone but himself. But that doesn’t mean he can’t improvise.

A childhood spent growing up with Wei Wuxian and then being the youngest Sect Leader during a war taught Jiang Cheng a lot. Mainly that he can bullshit just as good as his brother is he really, really needs to.

“I have- I’ve been sent back!” He exclaims, holding Sandu and pushing his spiritual energy into it to make the blade glow a deeper purple than his father’s blade. “I have come back from the heavens to protect the Sect! I swear on my sword and my core!”

Wei Wuxian would be proud of his attempt to not get attacked by his own father and shidi’s. Speaking of Wei Wuxian…

“Why should I believe you?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t splutter in shock but it’s a near thing. He has no idea why his father should believe him be abuse Jiang Cheng doesn’t actually know what’s going on but he doesn’t want to die in the afterlife. That would just be embarrassing.

“I don’t know!” Jiang Cheng exclaims in frustration. “You never paid me any attention when Wei Wuxian was all you ever cared about!” There’s a ripple of surprise in the group of disciples and even his father’s face shows a crack in the stone facade at the jab at his father’s favouritism. “Honestly, I’m over it! But it’s not like you know enough about me for me to give you a reason to believe me in the first place!”

Jiang Cheng snorts. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Believe what you want, I don’t care.”

He has spent literal decades coming to terms with his father’s lack of favour for him and his mother’s general disappointment in him. He’s over it.

“A-Cheng.”

Pingheng drops to the ground and Jiang Cheng finds himself wrapped in an embrace he barely remembers. His father is real and solid and clinging to him with the same kind of desperate relief that Jiang Cheng clung to Wei Wuxian all those months after Lotus Pier was destroyed.

It’s the kind of embrace that is full of emotions that can’t be said aloud.

He doesn’t drop Sandu—he’s not his father and he fought in a war, he won’t drop his weapon—when he wraps his much smaller arms around his father’s chest and clings right back.

Jiang Cheng has no idea what’s going on but his father is weeping silently as he holds him and Jiang Cheng can’t remain emotionally distant from that. He just can’t.

Apparently, this afterlife has him dead as a child and his family and Sect have mourned him. What this means, Jiang Cheng doesn’t know, doesn’t really care, because right now he’s in his father’s arms for the first time since he was a small child and that’s more important than figuring out what the hell is going on.

One thing Jiang Cheng knows is a priority however is to find out where his shixiong is. Wei Wuxian will have some idea of what is happening; he always does.

Although he’s expecting it, the sight of Lotus Pier as he remembers it from his childhood is disorienting enough that Jiang Cheng wobbles on Sandu as they come in to land. His father reaches out to steady him, close enough to do so with ease and he’s been hovering around Jiang Cheng since he accepted his son is somehow alive again.

Jiang Cheng steadies himself and dismounts Sandu smoothly, and looks around his home with a more open expression than he intends to have judging by the look his father is giving him. He would hide it, the emotions he feels looking at Lotus Pier as it was before the Wen attack, but Jiang Cheng doesn’t want to. He’s spent one lifetime hiding his feelings, he refuses to spend another doing the same.

Not when he understands how precious this time is.

Of course, his emotional journey at seeing his home unharmed is ruined by the sound of his mother’s voice, loud and very angry-sounding, rapidly approaching.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t sigh because he loves his mother, he does, but she was such a bitter, angry woman who had taught Jiang Cheng to fear showing his soft-side to those who mattered most to him. The Madam Yu, Jiang Cheng remembers was one consumed by resentment toward her husband for bringing home an orphan that was the son of two people her husband loved. After raising his nephew, Jiang Cheng can’t accept his mother’s behaviour as anything but motivated by spite and hate. Perhaps pain.

Whatever this afterlife is for him, it’s giving Jiang Cheng the chance to right wrongs to his family and his brother then, by the heavens, he’s going to take it!

“What do you think you’re doing, Jiang Fengmian: leaving me with that child! He’s useless!”

Jiang Cheng has no clue what his mother is angry about precisely but he knows exactly who she’s talking about. Wei Wuxian. And where his shixiong is, his A-jie isn’t far behind.

It’s unbecoming of him to break into a run, leaving his father and shidi’s where they landed, but Jiang Cheng’s priorities are his siblings. Seeing his mother would be nice in that distant way seeing someone he once valued the opinion of, but he’s lived so long now without her that Madam Yu is less a priority than his siblings.

That’s probably an uncharitable thing to think about his mother but, well, Jiang Cheng won’t lie about the fact that A-jie definitely did more mothering of him and Wei Wuxian than Madam Yu ever did.

Resenting your children because you resent your husband is definitely not a sound basis upon which to build a family, let alone a Sect. Jiang Cheng can admit that, even if it’s only to himself.

The sight of his mother heading straight toward the landing point is a nice sight nonetheless. The last he saw of his mother, she had been fighting Wen Zhuliu with the fierceness she had shown all Jiang Cheng’s life. Seeing her in her prime is something he wishes he’d treasured when he’d had the chance. He has the chance again.

“Mother!” He exclaims, smiling in a way he hasn’t ever smiled at her before. He loves her still; she’s his mother.

His smile is ripped away when Madam Yu let’s out a cry of what sounds like horror and Zidian arcs out in a crackling purple chord that smashes into Jiang Cheng and sends him crashing into boxes of lotus seeds.

Shaking the dizziness from his head, Jiang Cheng realises that if his father thought him dead then it would stand to reason that his mother would have too. His mother of the Meishan Yu. He’s lucky he still has his head_ attached to his body_.

“Ziyuan! Stop!” His father shouts and Jiang Cheng looks up to see his mother with her blade drawn moving toward him with deadly intent.

Right. The whole ‘dead thing’.

“He’s alive! A-Cheng is alive!”

Madam Yu’s approach falters at those words but there are tears in her eyes and a determined, grief-stricken expression on her face that tells Jiang Cheng that his mother is not going to stop.

She must think he’s a conscious corpse like Wen Ning!

Talking to his mother when she’s like this is about as useful as talking to Wei Wuxian into not abandoning him for the Wen remnants had been. So Jiang Cheng doesn’t bother.

He vaults up from where he’s still sort of kneeling among broken boxes of lotus seeds, drawing Sandu and parrying Zidian as it tries to throw him off his feet again.

Jiang Cheng focuses on his mother to the exclusion of all else, though he doesn’t lose the awareness battle dried into him of his surroundings. He needs to fend his mother off and falling into the lake would not help with that.

Fighting his mother is a little bit like the one time Jiang Cheng spared with Nie Mingjue but without the pressure of not making an utter fool of himself. No, the pressure here is not having his head separated from his body by his mother.

Jilie, his mother’s sword, is as fierce as its master, but Jiang Cheng has more years of battle under his belt than his mother and father both. Sandu was more than a match for Jilie but Zidian was still a problem.

Parrying her attacks, Jiang Cheng focused on defending himself rather than attacking his mother; distantly registering the sound of his father calling for his mother to stop, for Jiang Cheng to stop.

Jiang Cheng will stop when his mother stops.

The problem with fighting his mother is that Jiang Cheng has grown used to fighting with Zidian, not against it, and it makes it difficult to handle both Jilie and Zidian at the same time. Eventually his luck at dodging Zidian will run out, he knows that.

When it does, he’s not surprised. Jilie and Sandu are locked and Jiang Cheng can’t disengage fast enough to avoid Zidian arcing around to slice into his neck. The only thing he can do is let it injure his arm instead.

The spark of pain from Zidian wrapping around his forearm is enough to have Jiang Cheng curse and snap at the spiritual weapon with his own spiritual energy.

He doesn’t expect Zidian to unfurl from his arm and instead settle around his wrist, violet sparking disappearing as the weapon goes inert.

That, more than anything, has both his mother and him stop dead.

Jiang Cheng stares at Zidian wrapped around his wrist. “What the fuck?”

In hindsight, saying anything was probably a bad idea but swearing was the worst idea ever.

Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian both state at him with near identical looks of disapproval at his profanity which is just hilarious, really. Jiang Cheng’s entire political history is cursing, shouting, threats of violence, and profanity.

Still, he is somewhere around twelve and twelve-year-olds do not battle their mothers to a stand still and curse. But, this is Jiang Cheng’s afterlife so he can do what he wants, parental disapproval be damned.

Whether it’s his swearing, his father’s words finally penetrating his mother’s battle focus, or the fact that Zidian has in fact decided Jiang Cheng is fine, Yu Ziyuan pulls away from Jiang Cheng and studies him with a more open expression than he’s ever seen on his mother.

“Jiang Cheng?” Hearing his mother say his name so tentatively, sounding so uncertain, is just another surprise on top of more surprises.

He nods warily, unsure if his mother will start shouting at him for swearing, fighting her, or whatever other reason madam Yu can no doubt think of. Jiang Cheng certainly doesn’t expect his mother to drop her sword and drag him into a hug.

He can literally count on one hand how many times he’s been hugged by his mother. This makes hug number three; and he’s including the hugs from his previous life too.

Madam Yu doesn’t cry like Jiang Fengmian did but there’s a slight shaking to her shoulders that tells Jiang Cheng that she probably would if she ever allowed herself to be that emotionally vulnerable. His father approaches carefully, as mindful of his wife’s temper as ever, and gently joins the embrace; an arm around his wife and Jiang Cheng each.

This, this Jiang Cheng has never experienced. Both of his parents embracing him at the same time. The dashed wishes of the child that Jiang Cheng was long ago rise up and have him clinging to his parents with a desperation he doesn’t expect of himself. He’d reconciled his parents memory with his own failings long ago; he doesn’t need this from them but… It’s nice.

Jiang Cheng deserves nice things after all the crap he’s lived through.

The reunion with A-Jie and Wei Wuxian is either going to be wonderful or possibly worse than his mother realising he’s not dead. Jiang Cheng honestly doesn’t know which it’s going to he but he strongly suspects it’s going to involve a lot of shouting and crying at the least.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t pride himself on being right about things like Wei Wuxian always had, but he’s a little proud of himself for guessing rightly about the shouting and tears. He’s less proud when the source of shouting is his sister and tears is his brother.

Mostly because he doesn’t know how to handle either of those things separately, let alone at the same time.

Jiang Cheng feels perfectly justified in mumbling the same excuse he gave his father to A-Jie as she gives him the same look Madam Yu always gave him; expectant. At least, Jiang Yanli expects an explanation whereas his mother expected perfection.

Wei Wuxian is, in comparison to A-Jie near catatonic, clinging to Jiang Cheng the way he used to whenever someone mentioned dogs or he saw one. It’s terror and fear and a desperate, desperate need for comfort. Jiang Cheng, after literal decades spent trying to be less emotionally constipated, complies readily and pulls his shixiong into a hug that buries Wei Wuxian’s head against his chest.

Jiang Cheng used to do that with A-Ling all the time when his nephew was young and needed comfort after a nightmare. The experience comes in handy with his brother.

“I’m sorry, A-Jie, I didn’t plan on dying in the first place, let alone being thrown back by the heavens to protect the Sect,” Jiang Cheng says and there’s more sarcasm to his words than there should be considering the way his sister actually glares at him. “I’m sorry for hurting you all.”

A-Jie’s glare softens at those words. Jiang Cheng means them for a lot more than just being dead in his afterlife here. He means them for failing his sister and her husband, for not being a better uncle, for pushing Wei Wuxian away, for being so ignorant that he didn’t even realise his core was actually his brothers…

Jiang Cheng is sorry for a lot of things.

“You are forgiven A-Cheng,” A-Jie tells him, smiling at last as she joins Wei Wuxian in hugging Jiang Cheng. “Do not do it again.”

“I definitely don’t plan to, no,” Jiang Cheng promises, smiling despite himself because he has his siblings again. They’re alive and safe and though they’ve been grieving him, he knows they’ll be happy again soon enough.

And he’s going to keep them that way. Even if he has to go and kill Wen Ruohan himself at the tender age of twelve. Possibly Jin Guangyao- wait, it’d be Meng Yao still. Su She too, maybe.

Jiang Cheng sighs into his siblings embrace. He’s going to have to write a list.

The years of being a Sect Leader with no family and a newly rebuilt Sect will come in handy now that Jiang Cheng is going to have to single-handedly organise protection of Lotus Pier and possibly kill several cultivators without getting caught. He can do it, he’s of Yunmeng Jiang, but it’s going to be annoying with Sect Heir duties.

Judging by the hair pierce and robes Wei Wuxian wears, Jiang Cheng figures his father made him the Sect Heir after Jiang Cheng’s… Demise. Of course, Wei Wuxian would be a wonderful Sect Heir and Leader for Yunmeng Jiang, Jiang Cheng has come to accept this about his shixiong and not resent him for it. But Jiang Cheng gets the feeling that Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to be Sect Heir instead of Jiang Cheng.

Considering that Wei Wuxian had become Sect Heir thanks to the Wen attack, Jiang Cheng trusts that his brother has been carrying out Sect Heir duties just fine. The admission by Wei Wuxian that he has in fact been completely useless in the week since Jiang Cheng’s death is… Surprising.

But it’s not, not really, when Jiang Cheng thinks about it. Wei Wuxian loves him—he hasn’t shied away from this fact for three decades, he’s not about to start shying away from it now—and Jiang Cheng himself had been pretty useless those first few days after the Wen attack and then Wei Wuxian’s disappearance. He understands.

“You’re meant to be the next Sect Leader, anyway,” Wei Wuxian mumbles into Jiang Cheng’s robes.

“Maybe, but you’ll be my Sect Heir when I do,” Jiang Cheng replies, calmly staring at Wei Wuxian’s shocked expression. “I’m serious. A-Jie will marry and leave Lotus Pier, but you’re Head Disciple and will become Sect Heir when I take over from father.”

Wei Wuxian stares at him. He looks a bit like a koi fish.

Jiang Cheng kindly does not tell him that.

“But- Madam Yu-“ Wei Wuxian splitters and Jiang Cheng cuts him off.

“Mother is not Sect Leader or Sect Heir,” Jiang Cheng says firmly. “It is not her decision who I have as my heir. I love her but you are my brother and I will not allow anyone to treat you like you are unworthy of being treated as my brother. Not even mother.”

It seems that Jiang Cheng can reduce Wei Wuxian to speechless by a) dying and reviving, and b) declaring him his brother and being willing to fight Madam Yu about it.

Considering Jiang Cheng has already fought his mother today, he’s relatively confident he could beat her if it came to that; even if he’s twelve. He’d rather it didn’t but Jiang Cheng has learnt to plan for contingencies as a Sect Leader.

You never knew if you were going to reveal a major plot to undermine the Great Sects and frame your brother for crimes he didn’t commit, after all.

Speaking of contingencies, Jiang Cheng wonders if it would be wise to reach out to Gusu Lan earlier than the Disciple Exchange in three years. The Lan would be able to offer assurances to the other Sects that Jiang Cheng really isn’t dead, and it would afford him the chance to introduce Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian sooner. Whilst he’d much rather gouge his eyes out than witness his brother being so shameless with the Second Jade of Lan, Jiang Cheng remembers how happy his shixiong had been with Hanguang-Jun and Jiang Cheng will do whatever he has to, to make sure his siblings are happy.

Even if he has to endure shameless flirting and truly obnoxious displays of affection.

He’ll have to figure something out regarding the peacock for A-Jie too. Jiang Cheng sighs. The things he does for those he loves.

#The Untamed #Jiang Cheng #Wei Wuxian #Jiang Yanli #Jiang Fengmian #Yu Ziyuan #Kat writes

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babbushka · 5 years ago

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Worship

Kylo Ren x Reader (NSFW)

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It’s dark, in your quarters. There’s a clock on the mantle where a soft fire is crackling, an unnecessary luxury aboard a star destroyer. There’s no need for open flame when adjusting the temperature would do just fine, but, like most things, you wanted it – so you got it.

The clock ticks, and somewhere, very far away, on a little blue dot out in the vast expanse of the universe, it turns midnight.

“It’s my birthday.” You whisper to Kylo, the both of you still awake, always awake.

It’s not particularly late aboard the Supremacy, only just past standard dinner time, but the both of you are naked nonetheless.

He’s looking at you, always looking.

His handsomely scarred face and those deep brown eyes facing towards you like a flower faces the sun, moving where you move. You’re in bed, atop the covers for once, the fire making the bedroom warm, making a soft sheen of sweat glisten on both your bodies, simply by being there.

He looks confused for a moment, before arriving to an incorrect conclusion with a wince.

“Is that anything like Life Day?” He asks, props his head with a bend elbow, runs his other hand up and down the length of your side, fingers barely grazing your skin.

Up and down, a ghost of a touch, just the slightest hint of contact that makes you shiver.

“No,” You say, reaching out to tuck some hair behind his ear, letting yourself be pulled closer and closer until he’s got you shuffled under him, “Birthdays celebrate the day someone was born, a recognition that you’re another year older, have made it another year in existence.”

He hums in understanding, begins placing strategic kisses along your neck, collarbones.

“How does one celebrate?” He favors one spot beneath your ear, voice deep and dark and sinister.

You shudder again, let your hands come up and smooth against the firm wall of muscle they meet. He jolts when you touch him, as if he’s been electrified, as if you’re the one who can summon lightning from their fingertips, as though you’re the one who wields all the power here.

Because you do.

“There are cards, gifts, and typically a cake where one can blow out candles and make a secret wish.” You say with a breathy moan as his teeth graze your pulse, as he bite lightly against your neck, crooked teeth against your jugular.

“Does the wish come true?” He asks, and you smile, amused by all his questions.

“Not if you tell it to someone.” You explain, and he nods, like it makes sense.

Because to him, it does.

“What…could constitute...as a gift?” He’s playing twenty questions now, and you’re impatient, especially when you can feel his cock begin to fill out as your hands drift lower and lower down his body, when you can feel it brushing against your thigh, so close to your wet cunt that it’s all you can do not to demand he fuck you now.

He knows, of course he knows – he’s a mind reader for Force sake.

But more than that, he’s yours, and he knows you unlike anyone else.

“Hmmm, lots of things.” You say, wanting to get to the point, rubbing your calves together to generate friction as he kisses you, the slip and slide of your inner thighs growing more and more evident. “They could be objects, but they could also be gestures. Or acts.”

“Acts?” He asks, interested, suddenly so interested, in birthdays.

“Mmhmm, could be acts of kindness, but also could be acts of passion, devotion, adoration.” You smile, can’t help but smile, grin when he pulls away finally, when there’s lust in his eyes as he stares at you, hungry hungry hungry.

“Worship.” He says with such intensity that it’s all you can do but moan.

“Yes.” You nod, just the barest up and down of your head, and already he’s shaking, trembling.

“I want to worship you.” He begs, pleads.

You have no desire to deny him.

“Then do it.” You say, opening the gates, opening your legs to him.

He kisses down your body, lavishes attention on your tits. He squeezes them in his big hands, they fit perfectly against his calloused palms, thumbs swirling consistent circles on your nipples. He buries his face between them, suffocates himself with them for a moment as he sucks and bites and kisses the flesh there. The stimulation goes right to your pussy, wet and aching for him.

He’ll be rough in time, but he’s methodical, he’s going to make you come as many times as he can, he’s going to make you cry from pleasure.

“That’s right, I am.” He says and you smirk until you can’t, your mouth dropping open just from the pleasure he provides.

He tugs and tweaks your nipples until they’re stiff, until you’re moaning loud, jumping under his touch. He sucks hard at them, until he’s just sucking in general, fits nearly half your breast into his mouth. You’re arching into him, back off the mattress, legs fallen so far apart that you don’t know how he hasn’t just slid right in yet.

“Soon, precious.” He smears against your sweat, biting harshly down on your ribs. His hands are splayed out on your sides, holding you down. “My girl, my favorite. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk, come in you so much you’ll taste it in that perfect mouth of yours.”

He watches your face as he shoves his fingers into you, two right away, big and thick and long and rough, right up into your cunt. He takes in a sharp breath at the sound it makes, how it squelches and drools on his hand, how you gasp and moan. He latches himself to your nipple once more, sucking just enough that you can already feel tears start to prick just from the stimulation – and then you’re coming again somehow, coming already, thighs tensing as he strokes your walls through it, hasn’t even touched your clit yet.

“Kylo -- ” You hiccup, but he shushes you, fits another two fingers inside you, making your throat click just from the stimulation.

“All I’ve ever wanted was you, and now I’ve got you.” He keeps talking and talking, voice deep and going straight to your pussy and you’re desperate for more friction.

When he gives it to you, presses against your clit, it’s to milk your orgasm out of you, it’s to keep you coming coming coming, gushing all over him. He doesn’t let up your tits either, and soon you’re sobbing, hips thrusting up against him just because you have to do something, you just have to.

He gives your chest a break and cleans you up with his tongue, drinking you down like he’s a man dying of thirst, and you’re the only well in the desert. He slurps, and it’s dirty, but you moan, so he does it again, desperate to please you.

His tongue is hard as it thrusts inside your cunt, as it drags in and out of you. He has to pin you down with the Force so your legs don’t move, and you’re squirming, because holy shit it’s so good, he’s so good, and you tell him.

“Kylo, oh fuck – Supreme Leader.” You tangle a hand in his hair and yank tight, knowing how he likes the pain, knowing how he likes the sting.

His tongue seems to go on forever, you can feel it pushing somehow deeper and deeper and deeper into you, and you think this must be wrong, because how can such a thing be so long – how can it be so hard, so rough, wet and solid? And that’s when you realize, when you open your eyes, and it’s not his tongue at all anymore, not as he’s drooling watching your pussy clench and tremble around nothing.

“See that?” He asks, and no, you can’t, vision spotty and white around the edges, “That’s how much I love you, how much the Force loves you, it wants to fuck you, wants to knock you up just as bad as I do.” He doesn’t know what he’s saying, too lost in it, but something about that makes you shudder violently.

You pant and whine and come from the Force’s touch, entire body shaking and covered in sweat, you don’t know how much more you can take of this – and Kylo hasn’t even stuck his dick in you yet.

“I must not be doing a very good job,” He says lowly, entirely consumed by you, by wanting to please you, as he crawls up your body and the phantom touch of the Force is replaced by the very real feeling of his cock going home, making a home inside your cunt, “If you’re still talking.”

#reader insert #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #idk what this is im sorry if its not good #i was just Into It lmao #my writing #sinday

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lore-of-the-silvereyes-rwby · 4 years ago

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Paranoia over reason

Now we move onto the source of Ironwood's problems his new dominent trait of Fear. Now there could be an argument for pride or strength of will but in all honesty fear has been the core value of his entire personality. For It is human nature to fear death above all else.

Before I delve into why fear may be his most dominant emotion at present, let's take a look at several definitions and meanings of the word.

Fear;

an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

a feeling of anxiety concerning the outcome of something or the safety and well-being of someone.

the likelihood of something unwelcome happening.

a mixed feeling of dread and reverence.

Now that we have the clear definition and example of what fear is let's proceed.

I think we can all agree that the first signs of Ironwood's fear were first seen in volume 3. Due to the events of the Fall of Beacon where he was completely and utterly out maneuvered by Salem and Cinder despite his best efforts to stop them, Ironwood now appears to suffer from a degree of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), an increased sense of paranoia, and an increased desperation to stop Salem by any means.

This, now coupled with his typical bullheadedness, arrogance and bluntness has made him make several decisions that have led to many of his own people from Atlas and the world in general to outright despise him due to the countermeasures he had implemented and the severe secrecy he has exhibited to the people, even his fellow Councilmen.

Even those in high positions or highly influential within the Kingdom have begun seeing him in a bad light, as seen with Jacques, Robyn Hill, Pietro Polendina and Councilmen Sleet and Camilla have begun doubting his state of mind and the honesty of his intentions.

Fundamentally, fear of death is the governing principle of human action. Fear is also one of the main motivator for most if not all of Ironwood's decisions that have affected the main plot of the current RWBY storyline.(For more details about this proceed to the hero section) His paranoia assuming he was already a paranoid individual before his debut has grown from worst to the extreme. So much so that it has warranted the concern of most of his allies.

Below are a few selected quotes and dialogue from some characters that evidence this reasoning and observation.

“James was no different. I couldn't tell you exactly what it was he saw there, but it changed him. He's…”

“He's scared.”

“Paranoid would be the more appropriate term.”

Pietro Polendina, & Qrow Branwen/ The Greatest Kingdom

“I'm not sure what happened to James in Vale, but it seems to have only worsened some of his more unfortunate tendencies. ”

Lionheart/ Welcome to Haven

“General Ironwood.... he looks.... tired.”

“James... what have you been doing?”

Yang, Ruby & Qrow/ The Greatest Kingdom

This more or less was a call for concern for the mental health and state of Ironwood’s mind. Fear is the main survival trait of all living things and it's okay to have it. But for Ironwood he had relied on fear too much to the point that it had consumed him and influenced every choice he had made. Not a very good trait to rely on.

Especially when you concern yourself more with uncertain and possible threats instead of the current and known threats that are in front of you. For Ironwood he ignored the current issues at hand in order to prepare for uncertain threats thus escalating the problem to the extreme.

Now we know how fear has motivated Ironwood and how it has led his situation from bad to worst. So we will now look at the possibility of how he might use his fear and the fear of others to his advantage.(Can’t be a General if you can’t motivate the people under your command to follow you without question)

“But ask yourself this: do you honestly believe your children can win a war?”

—Ironwood, before leaving Ozpin's office

“Discreet wasn't working. I'm here because this is what was necessary.”

—Ironwood, about the military presence in Vale

“The people of Vale needed someone to protect them, someone who would act. When they look to the sky and see my fleet, they feel safe, and our enemies will feel our strength.”

—Ironwood

Basically Ironwood is the class A example of Machiavelli in terms of philosophical ideals of security and control. Specifically relating to these 2 main ideas of Machiavelli’s philosophy;

Famously asserted that while it would be best to be both loved and feared, the two rarely coincide, and thus, greater security is found in the latter;

Viewed ambition, competition and war as inevitable parts of human nature, even seeming to embrace all of these tendencies.

But in the case of Ironwood he took these to the extreme. To the point that he became a fear monger; someone who spreads fear, or needlessly raises the alarm. This is what he did in V2. Now why would I assume this. As stated before his actions have more or less influenced the current course of events that has shaped the current world of RWBY for the worst.

This might also explain why Winter the Ace-Opts and even the members of Ruby’s group(@ v7 beginning & specifically Ren & Qrow) were willing to follow Ironwood. Not because he has the plan or because they trust him but because Ironwood has prayed on their fear and insecurities. As such they surrendered control of themselves and consented to Ironwood's authority.

For Winter it can be assumed that Ironwood had used her fear and anger of her father to his advantage. Thus gaining a loyal obedient servant. This might actually explain winter's line in the enemy of trust;

“What are you doing?! My life doesn’t matter!”

—Winter, to Penny after she saves her

Because she had consented to following Ironwood and accepted that her life has no value unless her assumed savior gives her a purpose. Basically Winter feared that she would end up like her father and so she rejected him in favor of Ironwood. To her Ironwood was the father she had always wanted. But her fear of Jaques had blinded her to the truth of Ironwood. Blinded her to the point that she had consented to a paranoid tyrant that will put his own agenda before everyone else.

Ironwood groomed and conditioned Winter from the start to be his right hand and be wholly loyal to him even against what’s right and against those Winter loves so she would carry out his orders even if they were morally dubious. He had brainwashed her to the point that she said, out loud, that her life doesn’t matter compared to Ironwood’s goals.

This same logic is also quite possible for the ace-opts as well as they all seem to have more fear dwelling within them more than the main heroes that they hide behind a false façade of confidence while relying and believing that Ironwood can ease their fear because he has made them believe that he can.

This is also shown in Ren where he seems to be the only one of the main heroes to actually join Ironwood’s side without hesitation in the worst case scenario. Not because he thinks what Ironwood is doing is morally right or if it's the pragmatic choice. It's because he is afraid and has no idea what to do. Add in the fact that his usual leaders (Ruby/Jaune/Qrow/Oz) have no idea what to do as well. Hence this quote;

“We spent so much time worrying about how Ironwood will react to the truth about her, but have any of us considered how we're even going to beat her if we manage to work past that?”

—Ren, to Ruby and Nora

The fear of losing Ironwood’s trust is secondary to his main fear of Salem and how he and his allies have no idea or plan to combat her. But despite that he is consenting to Ironwood because of how hopeless he believes the situation to be and thinks Ironwood can relieve him of some of the despair. And chances are that this was shared with the rest of the main heroes but at varying levels.

This is also more evident with Qrow. Prior to this, Qrow has hated Atlas and what it stands for, and was never afraid to call it out. But Qrow was the character most devastated by the revelations in Volume 6, as it shatters his entire worldview and causes him to doubt his entire life’s work. A life’s work that has both fulfilled him and given him purpose, while also putting a strain on many of his relationships. So with his entire world thrown into chaos, he clings to the stability and security Ironwood offers and ignores the warning signs he would’ve caught at anyone other point in his life.

This is also true in real life: where groups that try to embed unthinking loyalty into their followers always try to recruit people at their most vulnerable. This even works on a macro-scale, where whole nations can fall under the sway of strongman leaders after massive social upheavals.

Okay we have covered how Fear has influenced his actions as well as how he may take advantage of the fears of others to achieve his desired goals. Now we will cover how Ironwood’s fears, and paranoia may be unfounded.

To start we will take a look at an overall summary of the final 3 episodes of Volume 7 that displayed the extreme limits of Ironwood’s fears and paranoia.

As of "Gravity", once he learns Cinder Fall is on Atlas, and taking into account the lies from Ruby's Group and that Salem was coming, Ironwood caves into his paranoia. Now more distrustful than ever before, he believes the entirety of Ruby's Group is betraying him, leading him to commit many unethical acts in order to prevent Salem from winning.

He was willing to abandon Mantle despite the people not being fully evacuated and use the Relic of Creation to raise Atlas into the sky instead of Amity Tower, deciding he'd abandon his original plan to solely save his city instead. He was even willing to have Fria killed in order to make Winter Schnee the next Winter Maiden.

His paranoia had reached a level where he now plans on using his immense influence as both General to the Atlas Military and Headmaster to the Academy to now put the entire kingdom of Atlas in a state of martial law without the kingdom's council's consent or approval due to now no longer knowing who to trust as seen where he ordered the arrest of Ruby's Group when they refused to go along with his extreme plan of self preservation. He was even willing to go so far as to shoot Oscar Pine without any hesitation or remorse afterwards so he could proceed with his plan.

This is pretty much a summary of the events that happened in the final episodes of the last season and where the controversy of his character begins in the rwby fandom. Basically arguing whether or not he's a hero or a villain. Well as stated his actions were all motivated by fear and paranoia instead of actual reason or logic. Sure it can be argued that he made the rational choice but he wouldn’t have had he not been motivated by either his fear or ambition. Thus he had unnecessarily escalated the situation and did more harm than good.

And as stated by Ozpins speech at the end fear is just like alcohol the more you are consumed by it the more your real self is revealed.

The single quality that is common across every living creature on this planet... is fear. It’s funny then, that as common as fear is... we so easily underestimate its power.

But fear itself isn’t worthy of concern, it is who we become while in its clutches.

Will you be proud of that person? Will you forgive them? Will you understand why they felt the need to do the things they did? Will you even recognize them? Or will the person staring back at you be the very thing you should have feared from the start?

I suppose we all find out... sooner or later.

And as stated by Ozpin's speech at the end, fear is just like alcohol the more you are consumed by it the more your real self is revealed. And his true self has been revealed to be nothing more than a scared barley competent man that should have never been put in power in the first place

For it was his insistence that his way is what’s best for everyone has been the source if not all of the main cause of all the conflicts in the story. Because of this he has done more harm than good to Remnant and its people.

You had me with your words but you lost me with your action

#rwby #world of remnant #general ironwood #rwby ironwood #james ironwood #rwby atlas #rwby mantle #rwby analysis #rwby theory #rwby spoilers #rwby salem #Ironwood analysis

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politicalmamaduck · 5 years ago

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Reylo Fic Recs: Canonverse

Across the Stars by @rapturousaurora

Hugging Rey close, desperate to feel something of her, her skin against his, a lingering tendril of their once vibrant Force bond—anything—Ben only felt cold silence. Her vacant gaze stared up at the ceiling of the Sith’s Exegol stronghold.And still he felt no anger. No hate. His emotions were dominated by the almost childlike desire to fix what his lifetime of mistakes had broken—Ben wanted to fix her.

With You by @politicalpadme

Ben Solo finds the will to rise.

the shadows are whispering (again) by @thewayofthetrashcompactor

The Force has always had it out for the Skywalkers. Ben feels like he knows that better than most. Why else would it have saddled him with another curse to add to his legacy? (From birth to death and back again.)

Phantasm by @forcebondedreylo

Rey thought that she was finished with Ben Solo after Crait. She was proven otherwise when she crash-landed on a strange and dangerous planet with no way to contact the Resistance. Now Ben Solo might be her only hope of survival, if the deadly inhabitants don't get her first.

The Weight of a Soul by @ceallaigheirinn

“If he is condemned, then his soul shall be cast into oblivion,” the Mother answered. “It will cease to be. Oblivion is beyond the veil that the Force encompasses. His soul would be consumed by nothingness, and Ben Solo would exist on neither the mortal plane or the World Beyond.”

linger in the doorway (of my field of paper flowers) by @mnemehoshiko

She can't tell if she got the better deal or not. Foolish. Did you truly want to waste away in this sand-ridden hell? a voice whispers, low and soft. No, she thinks, but it would be a familiar hell, at least.

destruction makes the world burn brighter by @cosmicforces

When he was nearly within reach, he extended the blade—or was it his hand?—but everything faded to black before she was certain. Panting, she bolted upright in her bed and wiped away the sweat clinging to her forehead. She’d dreamt of Jakku again.

A New Generation by @aionimica

Ben glances at Rey and quietly asks, “Do you want to spend the rest of your life with a twice-fallen former warlord who doesn’t know what place he has in this galaxy except as a porg-mother?”

In Our Silence, Volumes by @roamingbadger

When Rey senses through their Force Bond that Ben is in trouble, she'll stop at nothing to get to him. But what if he's not ready to be rescued - from himself?

I Choose You by @shelikespretties

In the throne room, Rey proposes a counter offer.

Breakout by @leofgyth

In which Rey, Finn, and Ben break Ransolm Casterfo out of prison... for reasons.

Oh the Glory of Tenderness by @ann3onymous

Leia Organa taught her little boy how to weave stories with hair. Years later, Ben Solo weaves Rey's hair with promises.

Slipping Off Course by @fingertipstrembling

Between the birth and death of every star stretches a wide expanse of space, a thirsty maw that drinks up all the light it sees and spits back darkness. In the bowels of a star destroyer deep in that darkness, they find each other—the Supreme Leader’s apprentice and a fledgling pilot recruit who outflies and outwits him at every opportunity. Though he fights the pull of the Force, Kylo Ren finds himself reaching for Rey with nothing to stop his fall.

Like This by @kylo-wouldnt-like-those-chips

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... Peace reigns in the galaxy. Seriously. The Imperial Remnant fizzled out. There is no First Order. There is no Snoke. The worst thing Ben Solo's ever done was some light brawling. The kids are, as they say, more or less alright.Still, the Force has plans for Ben and Rey, which is how they find themselves working for the same civil rights firm, thrown together in a stakeout van.

temptations of grey by @lasthopesolo

Nightmares filled with the ghostly voice of a woman haunt Supreme Leader Kylo Ren; a constant reminder of the discord within. Terrifying dreams plague Rey, casting doubt on choices she’s made. Both find themselves stranded on a humid jungle planet in unknown territory, captured and forced to participate in a strange mystical ceremony. Rey and Kylo must work together in their journey through the jungle, facing themselves and each other in the pursuit of balance.

Wish Upon a Star by @shelikespretties

When Ben Solo exiles himself on a random planet in order to atone, he finds his mother packed him a calligraphy set. He keeps a diary of his existence, while Rey, cut off from him in the Force, tracks him down the only way she can.

Only If for a Night by @reylotrashcompactor and @southsidestory

The night the war ends is a time for victories and change. Maybe, if Rey is lucky, she can win where Ben Solo is concerned. There’s something between them, more than friendship or battle-forged camaraderie, a need that she’s felt threaded along their bond, and she’s tired of ignoring it.

Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations. by @shmisolo

Ben woke, but Luke’s saber wasn’t ignited. Instead, he saw a master who had shattered his trust, who thought he was a monster, and—worse—he was probably right.So he fled Yavin IV, to Skywalker’s dismay, and no one heard from him since.Years later, on a wasteland planet, a girl and a fugitive stormtrooper board a Corellian YT-1300 light freighter in desperation to find they are not the only ones trying to steal it.

In the Footsteps of Giants by @aionimica

Post-Sequel Trilogy; Ben Solo is off in exile, accompanied by Rey. In desperate need of fuel, they stop on Naboo, but their pit stop doesn’t quite go as planned.

build a ladder to the stars by @redbelles

Kylo Ren's heart is a desert.

these violent delights (have violent ends) by @luminoustico

The news runs like a wildfire through the galaxy.Kylo Ren found something, someone, else to believe in. He gutted his master for her life. In return, vestiges of Snoke's power delivered a punishment greater than anything either the fallen Knight or the last Jedi could imagine. Together forever, eternally apart.

Luminous Beings by @hauscrashburn

In order to become a Jedi, Rey must do one thing: Kill Kylo Ren. But how can she when her heart belongs--and has belonged to him--for years now?

Midsummer Night's Shared Dream by @shelikespretties

“We’re not on an approved airfield, but look,” she held out her datapad with the map of the crash location. “Xa-Tla City is on the other side of this forest. We can make it there on foot, and, if we start now, we’ll get there before the solstice celebration begins.” Kylo lifted a mocking eyebrow. “You’d risk the spirits of the forest?”Rey scoffed. “I don’t believe in ghosts. Let’s start walking.”

Spillikin by @ceallaigheirinn

“Forgiving yourself doesn’t mean you have to forget what happened, Ben,” his mother said. “It just means you can finally let go and move forward.”

The Way to Tomorrow by @the-reylo-void

Kylo Ren faces his sentence at the hands of the Resistance: a year of off-world solitary confinement, no communication with the outside world. But it's never that easy to leave old wounds behind. Or such deeply-forged bonds.

Porgs by @tehanufromearthsea

Porgs think of Luke Skywalker as the eccentric but harmless giant who lives on their island. Life on Ahch-To can be pretty dull, so at least Luke gives the Porgs something to watch. Then another of his kind arrives, with her friends, and life on Ahch-To gets a lot more entertaining for the porgs.Then comes the invader...

The Jedi Path by @southsidestory

She’s Ben's world: the only thing he cares about, the only thing he needs, the only one who matters. That interest used to be focused on Rey's power, her talent, her fierce, uncompromising will. Platonic, if not innocent, but now—now he still loves her like a protege, but he wants her too. He wants her, and he can’t keep lying to himself about it.

Yub Nub, and a Celebration Song by @luminoustico

It starts with a forest moon, a destined clash between a scavenger and a knight, and some Very Determined Ewoks.

The Visions That Connect Us by @lariren-shadow

They've seen each other for years before they even meet. Kylo Ren and Rey have visions of the other through out their lives.

Reflektor by @reylotrashcompactor

Kylo Ren isn’t fool enough to believe that her capture was a happy accident. He didn’t believe it was good fortune, and he believed least of all that it had anything to do with the reconnaissance skills of Hux’s half-wit stormtroopers. If they have The Girl Called Rey in custody, it is because she meant for it to happen. It was because she had a plan and this was a step in executing it.

Paper Minds by @kuresoto

At the age of five, Ben Solo built his first droid. At the age of ten, he manifested and started to see her everywhere. At the age of eleven, he was sent to train with Luke. He still saw her. When he was fifteen, she disappeared. He was twenty-three when he left Ben Solo behind and became someone who wouldn’t trust blindly ever again. He became Kylo Ren. He meets her for the first time when he’s on the cusp of turning thirty. These were the events that shaped Ben Solo and in turn, Kylo Ren.

Just A Little Crush by @lariren-shadow

Ben Solo has been away from the Jedi Academy for a few years. Now that he's back he's developed a little problem his brother is keen on goading him about.

Retrouvailles by @luminoustico

Six months ago, Ben Solo was removed from Rey's side and his uncle's Jedi Academy to take up his mother's mantle as Senator, and to act representative of the Resistance. He has already claimed the reputation of a troublemaker. After Han Solo requests Luke and Rey act as Ben's security intel at a ball in Coruscant, it is underneath the pressure of galactic politics that her world and his new world collide.

Convergence by @the-reylo-void

Whatever the next steps are, I want to take them with you.

let the silver arrow fly by @solikerez

Leia plays cupid, and fires a few misshots before getting it right.

What We Do in the Snow by @reylotrashcompactor

The first time she dreamed of Starkiller, not much was different.

The Gamble by @nightsofreylo

Whenever you gamble, eventually you lose...

Matchmaker by @lariren-shadow

Bored with being a Force Ghost Anakin decides that his grandson needs some help in the relationship department. Kylo Ren isn't too thrilled at the prospect but, then again, neither is Rey.

here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true by @the-reylo-void

Here is the place where I love you.

People Will Say by @reylotrashcompactor

In a ditch effort to coax the wary members of the Resistance into accepting the prodigal son Ben Solo back into their fold, General Leia Organa requests a hefty favor from Rey. "Behind every good man is a great woman" is how the saying goes, but the man formerly known as Kylo Ren isn't good, and Rey isn't sure that any manner of hand-holding is going to change people's minds about that.

crave my heart (it's bleeding in your hand) by @mnemehoshiko

She wakes with the taste of salt on her lips and screams in her head.

Dark Matter by @arcticelves

Rey is never really alone. Even on Ahch-To, beginning her training with Luke Skywalker, she is frequently interrupted by an uninvited visitor. But is he truly unwelcome?

kept in the dark (but you were there in front of me) by @mnemehoshiko

Ben Solo is nine when he dreams of sand and darkness.

Peace and Purpose by @the-reylo-void

Across the stars, Rey and Ben yearn for each other, neither able to move on, both facing the unending nights alone. But the Force longs for balance as surely as they long for each other.

Laid To Rest by @khaleesa

Ben wants to show Rey the galaxy, to see it with her. First, they have business on Naboo.

Endings and Beginnings by @shelikespretties

Rey’s hand cradles Ben’s head before it can hit the stone floor. He’s ridiculously heavy, all dead weight, and Rey’s entire body cramps in horror before she sees the faint rise and fall of his chest. He’s not dead. He hasn’t left her. Yet. She cradles his face with both hands and sobs in relief.

What Was Lost Is Now Found by @ceallaigheirinn

With no memories of the past, his mind was nothing more than a void of vast emptiness. He couldn’t remember how he got there. It sounded insane, but he even wondered if he was actually there the moment before. When he closed his eyes, fleeting images of a metallic mask, a world collapsing on itself, the touch of a weathered hand across his cheek and a beautiful woman dressed in white flickered from the dark recesses of his mind. But none of it made sense. He had no idea what those images represented or who that woman was. Did she mean something to him? Was she an enemy, friend or lover?

a million miles (cross the ocean) by @mnemehoshiko

in which the Force tries to pay back some of the debt it owes the Skywalkers.

gift to me forever by LonelyLavenderBones, @luminoustico, TazWren, @thewayofthetrashcompactor

Palpatine has remained dead. Ben Solo followed in his mother’s footsteps and became the Senator of Chandrila, his mother training him in the Force instead of sending him to Luke. And, instead of being left on Jakku, Rey has been trained in the Force from childhood to help redeem the Palpatine name in the eyes of the galaxy's highest social circles.Now the princess of the ultimate Sith is due to make her debut, on the arm of her betrothed, Armitage Hux. But, the Force still has plans for Rey Palpatine and Ben Solo.

My own canonverse Reylo fics:

Rise

Ben Solo and Rey fake their deaths after Exegol and live their lives.

It was not Death, for I stood up

Emperor Palpatine lied on Exegol; Rey is not his granddaughter. Rey sets off on a journey, led by Obi-Wan Kenobi, to bring Ben Solo back from the World Between Worlds.

luminous beings are we

Rey and Ben survive Exegol.

the healing balance

The battle was over; the war was won. The Finalizer was a smoking ruin; General Hux’s attempted mutiny had backfired as the Resistance attacked and finally incapacitated the First Order leadership. Kylo Ren was missing, presumed dead at the hands of the last Jedi, who must have succumbed to her own injuries. Neither body was found. So said the initial official report of the aftermath.

Aggressive Negotiations

It was a shame, really, that Rey did not want her new assignment, did not want to be tempted by Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala’s grandson.

Calligraphy and Atonement

Ben Solo spends his time in exile trying not to think of Rey and keeps failing.

beam that lights the way home

The star lit their path to each other, and lit their way home together.

food for the soul

Rey struggles with new food and the knowledge that Kylo Ren is her soulmate.

you burn with me

Rey's soulmark burns when she meets Kylo Ren for the first time.

light brings forth hidden truths

Light brings forth hidden truths, and demonstrates the Force's balance.

Falling Embers

Rey takes Kylo Ren's hand after they have killed Snoke and his Praetorian Guards.

Force of Light

After celebrating the end of the war and Wookiee Life Day on the Resistance base, Rey heads out into the snow to meditate. Kylo Ren goes out after her...and learns the true reason for the season.

Wanting

Kylo Ren has wanted things his whole life.

My other fic rec lists:

#reylo #rffa writers #canonverse #fan fiction #fic recs #my writing

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prophet-of-chaos · 4 years ago

Text

THE TESTAMENTS

> HISTORY

( There is graphic content beyond, detailing death and violence. Such is the nature of life in this universe. A censored TL;DR has been included at the beginning. ) A MOMENT IN TIME Nyx was born as one of twins to the Kishi clan after a barren period without children. Given the name Sayomi and her twin brother Yoruko, they were both promised in service to their patron deity Cosmos as thanks for blessing the clan with twins.

Nyx disliked the life of a young acolyte because she frequently received horrible visions while meditating in contact with Cosmos. Instead, she indulged in the travellers that frequently visited Asmodia to trade, seeking stories and knowledge from them.

A historian she befriended from one of the crews helped her to trace back some of her clan’s history to a time where they were proud warriors and served a different deity. One of the temple sites he showed her pictures of was the same as one she had seen in her visions. Intrigued by this, Nyx sought out said god, known only as Chaos. They received her inquiries with vigour, indulging all her questions and accepting her as a servant on the following conditions: she would endeavour to restore their power and notoriety in the galaxy; she would become a vessel for balancing the universe in their favour and meting out their justice; and she would be devout to Chaos’ teachings, all in return for great powers.

Spurred by promises from this being and a growing distrust of her clan’s true motives for her life, Nyx escaped with the historian’s crew and smuggled herself out into the universe. She forsook the name Sayomi, and adopted the mantle Nyx, given to her by Chaos. She travelled with this crew for a time, devoting herself to the teachings of Chaos and creating simple wares for the crew to sell as a way of giving back to the ship. The historian and several other members of the crew died in a tragic oversight while they were exploring a historic site. Seeking a powerful relic of Chaos, they ran into scalpers looking to strip the ruins for valuables. The ensuing tussle claimed the lives of her closest companions, and their bloodshed awakened the weapon dormant within the ruins — Celeste, a cursed war-hammer and battle axe with a fragment of Chaos’ power living inside. Though the scalpers escaped, Nyx felt responsible for the outcome, and promised to take up the historian’s work and mantle to honour all he had done for her.

She also took up bounty hunting, to both empower herself and hunt down the crooks that murdered her crew. After making good on her promise to avenge them, she continued to pursue the bounty hunting pathway, eventually rising to the top of the ranks and dominating Inner Eye as the Top Hunter for 13 years.

Nyx retired 4 years ago to allow time for her historic curation and preservation interests, but remained supportive of Delilah Leach who followed to take the title.

More recently, she made contact with her twin brother after hearing the Kishi clan had been purged from their planet due to an crash and an environmental disaster. She didn’t realise he was infected with a Carnasite, and when her guard was down, became infected with a particularly vicious strain of the parasite through a bite from Yoruko. Regrettably, she ended up killing him and retreating to cope with the incoming effects of the infection.

Chaos instructed her to seek refuge in one of His temple chambers, immersed in His power to give her the best chance of surviving the invader’s changes. She disappeared during this period for years, before being recovered along with Celeste from a mysterious temple buried under the shifting sands of Ha’tut in a portal guarded by a Voledan Sandworm.

She now serves as an assistant leader and point of guidance for the Inner Eye faction, under Motus’ leadership.

THE BIRTH OF A SPECIES The Kishi clan arrived on Asmodia a millennia ago, after their ancestral species the Keph’rah escaped a war-torn homeland and journeyed out into the galaxy.

The Keph’rah were birthed from the pressures of warring aliens and a hostile landscape, the break-down of these species developed a novel hybrid. From those too weak to be warriors and too timid to be leaders came a new nocturnal species seeking a new home.

They were guided into the stars by a galactic force known only as Chaos. They became devout to Chaos, who gifted them preternatural magical abilities in exchange for all-consuming worship. The Keph'rah travelled extensively, scattering about the stars. Some splintered off along the way, settling new planets they never left. Others reached out to new deities, seeking new pathways. Fewer still remained true to the path of a follower, building monuments and beautiful temples across the galaxy until they simply... vanished, along with most of the evidence they ever existed, over a thousand years ago. The entirety of this erasure baffled galactic historians, and became a point for much research for those interested in such affairs.

One of the surviving splinters became the Kishi, settling on Asmodia under the instruction of a gentle guiding force they came to know as Cosmos. They presented themselves to the young Keph’rah as a maternal, warm deity, kinder and more forgiving than Chaos had ever been. Cosmos promised that the Keph’rah would find peace and safety on Asmodia, that she would not demand such intense sacrifice from her followers, and that those under her care would only prosper. As proof of this offer, Cosmos instructed them where was safest to settle, what to consume, sent the most perceptive of them forewarning visions of terrible weather or animal threats, so they could best prosper in their new home.

What they didn’t realise was the more control they allowed this deity, the more Cosmos quietly shaped them as a species. The closest and most devout began to take on mystic qualities and prophetic dreams, driving them further from Chaos. They lost much of their magical ability, but in exchange, an awakened few developing blinded eyes in their palms. These always looked skyward to their Goddess and saviour, Cosmos, receiving visions and dreams to further aid the clan. Fewer and fewer males were born into the clan, their history of strength and warrior leadership dwindling, despite being what had carried them thus far into the galaxy. Most of the clan found they didn’t mind these changes once they became aware, giving themselves a new name to distance themselves further from the ones they had left behind. And thus, the Kishi became devoted servants to the Supreme Mother, Cosmos.

THE ADVENT OF A PROPHET

Nyx was born thousands of years after the Keph’rah’s first settlement, when their origins had become folklore and little but a buried part of the Kishi’s history. It was an unspoken taboo to dwell on the past, many eager to please their Goddess’ to continue receiving blessings of future-sight. Nyx’s birth signalled the dawn of great peace for the Kishi clan. She was born as one of twins, after several barren years for the clan. Despite a healthy small population, plenty of resources, and a slowly growing territory, the Kishi clan had no children for many years. She represented the answer to the Kishi’s prayers and the future of their clan. She was called Sayomi, a night-gifted beauty from the stars, and her brother Yoruko, a child of darkness and starlight.

True to the system of their matriarchal clan, Sayomi had been promised to Cosmos when she was born as thanks for heeding the clan’s prayers. Her life had been mapped for her, projecting devoted service in the name of Cosmos. Many would be privileged to take on the duties of a priestess in the clan, as few were gifted with foresight and a close connection to the Goddess’ visions.

This life never seemed to suit Sayomi, though she had been born for its purpose. Whenever she received her training, she would complain of terrible visions and dreadful nightmares, unbefitting for such a kind goddess’ powers. She would see foreign places crumbling, bloodshed, children screaming. Blood splattered on the stones of a temple floor. A mother with babe ripped from her arms. A warrior falling on his sword. A priest being incinerated in a great wall of flames. Rapture.

The visions were always extremely vivid and detailed. She displayed a strong aptitude for the future-sight aspect of her training and receiving visions, but hated using it because it brought her such distress. The clan thought she was lying to shirk her divine duties, and ignored her complaints.

Cosmos was kind. Cosmos was benevolent. Cosmos would not show a child such terrible things. Sayomi simply had an overactive imagination.

This disbelief made her despise her service, and she avoided it at all costs.

She was a restless, rambunctious, daring, and most of all, curious child. Though she remained a polite student, she was an unwilling acolyte, much preferring to tag along with the foraging parties and her brother, who gathered food for the clan. She loved the thrill of finding old settlements scattered about the planet, hints of their ancestors embedded in the trunks of towering mushrooms and gentle rivers weaved by ancient hands to find water for their clan. She felt as though some of the ancient carvings might hold the key to unlocking her visions and explaining some of the things she saw. Yoruko was also the opposite of what he was born to be. He was timid, and much preferred to hide behind his sister’s skirts. He’d offer to hold her gathered food rather than pick it himself, scared of even a bug’s pin-prick bite or an animal rustling in the undergrowth. A far cry from the bold and efficient gatherer spot he was supposed to fulfil, the two of them became insular. Yoruko preferred his twin’s company, and Sayomi preferred to have none at all. The clan viewed them as an odd pair, murmurings that they might even be cursed with chaotic energy... but they persisted. Everybody found their place in the clan eventually. There was no space for those who didn’t.

DAWN OF A NEW FUTURE

Situated on the edge of a trade route, Asmodia saw regular traffic from traders looking stock up on exotic and rare native wares from their resource-rich planet. Though they were a private and secretive species for the most part, they did enjoy their trading. The technology and news from the surrounding galaxy these travellers brought was welcome, both as part curiousity and part opportunity to spread the teachings of their Goddess Cosmos. The Kishi had amicable relations with their visitors, and even gained a host of regular traders who would come with larger shipments in exchange for a prepared selection of teas and jewellery. Contrary to the rest of her peers, Sayomi thrived on these mysterious travellers. As a youngling, she would make regular efforts to sneak away from her elders to have extra time with visitors, even if that went as far as clambering into their ships as a temporary (and terribly obvious) stowaway. The traders humoured her, for they were as curious about the secretive Kishi people as she was about the wider universe. She tried her best to learn Galactic Common, trading pictures drawn with berry dye and charcoal at first, until she could understand more of their stories. They told her of the galaxy, of the people they traded with, the history of the wares they bartered. In return, she showed them the buried parts of the jungle on Asmodia, pieces of their history and their first settlements. She also shared what trees to dig under to find the rare luminescent stones, and what beautiful fruits were safe to pick for vibrant dyes. Some of the traders were just eager to make the best deal and be on their way, and told her useless fibs in exchange for her information and items. One regular crew took quite the liking to her though. There was a young historian aboard who was just as fascinated by the history of her planet and people as she was. She spent long hours with him, tracing the history of her clan to their original ancestors in the Keph’rah, and the powers that had guided them to their salvation.

In particular, he showed her a photo of an ancient temple he had visited, and she realised — though she had never been there, she knew that place. She had seen it in her visions, time and time again. Intrigued, she asked him to bring her more information about the temple and the being they had worshipped there. SECRETS OF AN ANCIENT PEOPLE

Thrilled by the chance to finally explain herself, she brought up her revelation to the Elders of the clan. She wasn't mad, nor cursed — she was seeing visions! True visions, of places that existed, and people in the past!

But they swore her to secrecy.

The people she had spoke of worshipped the wrong God, and were long gone. Irrelevant. Dangerous. She was never to speak of the past again; she was to abandon these foolish pursuits, and focus on the fitting. Cosmos only ever showed visions of the future. To be viewing the past was wrong, and clearly these travellers had put thoughts in her head. Sacrilegious thoughts. The Elders began to restrict the number of travellers allowed near the settlement, and further restrict her access to them.

Wounded and outraged, it began to occur to Sayomi just how much of their past had been kept from her during her studies. The Elders had known about their heritage, and yet had always denied her questions! If their people had such a proud spacefaring history with so many great warriors that had brought them here, why were they actively trying to bury it? Why did they destroy the relics of their first settlements, and shun even play-fighting amongst the children?

She began to distrust the Cosmic deity. Tasked with many long hours of meditation daily to become closer to Cosmos, Sayomi started to hate the practice, the manicured lifestyle, every effort she made in service to Cosmos.

Instead, she spent her time of mandatory meditation casting her mind out, further into the galaxy, seeking connections from other powers. On some days she would disappear altogether, running away from the clan and wandering for days in a trance-like state. If there was one controlling and all-powerful being, surely there were others who would be more compassionate to her lust for knowledge. It was half curiousity, half angry defiance, with little care for what repercussion may come her way from those she made contact with. Her life was so orchestrated, every disruption and threat removed from her as though she were a perpetual child. She never truly expected an answer.

THE UNIVERSE LISTENS TO THOSE WHO CRY

A voice responded to Sayomi’s dreaming, one both familiar and unfamiliar to her. She knew she had never heard them in her lifetime, but had the distinct feeling that many before her had been close to this being. They introduced themselves as Chaos, and welcomed her back to the fold as a true child of theirs.

They were a being of great power who dwelled in the past, but whose influence had dwindled over time as their followers had been struck by misfortune. She connected to His qualities of balance, justice and clairvoyance. A secret part of her supposed Chaos had been the one sending her visions of the past, all this time.

When Chaos spoke to her, it felt like she had come home again. They welcomed her inquiries, embracing the mind that had travelled far from her body and allowing it to stay in their company. Time stretched out endlessly, though mere minutes had passed in her body. Every time she sought them out, she learned a little more, yearned for their power and their influence to free her from the mindless existence as a priestess in training. She ached for the literal chaos they promised, to reclaim their warrior history and connect to the past that had been so desperately kept from her.

And so, Chaos promised her everything she wished for. The power to change her destiny. The power to reclaim her past. The power to harness the universe and stoke the wildfire of her heart, that need to explore.

In exchange, she would become His Prophet.

They would accept her as a servant on the following conditions: she would endeavour to restore their power and notoriety in the galaxy; she would become a vessel for balancing the universe in their favour; she would mete out their justice accordingly; and she would be devout to Chaos’ teachings. She agreed, gladly. She would abandon the new way and return to the old. She would no longer be Sayomi — instead, she would become Nyx, the name offered to her by Chaos to claim her. By the time she had returned to her body, the pact had been made.

ESCAPE FROM ASMODIA

The change was almost immediate when she returned. The eyes on her palms awakened and blazed with divine purple fire, the first of her gifts. Her eyes took on an unnatural, violet hue, and though she did not realise it at the time, it was at that moment that Cosmos had forsaken her and denied her the ability of future-sight.

The clan was horrified, believing her cursed, and she fled without time to even bid Yoruko farewell.

Thankfully, the Historian’s crew had not yet departed, and she managed to convince them to allow her on board. In exchange for her skills as a seamstress that she had learned in training, she would be allowed to board if they could sell her creations. She agreed, thankful that they would not need to return to Asmodia for such wares soon, and left with them into the universe beyond.

THE GALAXY BELONGS TO CHAOS

Life aboard the Trader’s ship was not what she had expected, but she loved every moment of it. She threw herself whole-heartedly into the physical work of maintaining the old cargo clunker, spending every dreaming moment with Chaos. They slowly made other powers available to her, her most beloved one being Clairvoyance. She tested it on every item they collected for trade in the ship, training her connection to Chaos and her use of His divine abilities.

Her bargain with the Captain (with the aid of the historian) had been for every successful batch of fabrics they made, they would seek out an ancient site she had been shown in a vision by Chaos. There would surely be relics there she would get permission to trade, and they could restore a part of the site to reinvigorate Chaos’ reach in the galaxy.

This worked peacefully, for a time. She became hardy and capable, studying common languages so she could speak freely, without a translator and reading with the Historian. They restored several sites across the galaxy in Chaos’ name and prospered. She remembers this part of her life fondly and full of wonder.

Like most reveries however, this one did not last.

BECOME ONE WITH THE STARS, MY DEAR FRIENDS

Chaos gave her a vision of a powerful relic which had once consumed a part of His physical vessel and stored a great deal of power. It had many names over the millennia it had existed, but once Nyx had it, it would be hers to name and bear. It was a weapon fitting of a proud warriors’ history, and had been wielded by some of her ancestors many years ago.

When they arrived at the site, it seemed just as she had seen in her ancient visions, only aged by the weather and scratched at by scavengers. Some lesser carvings had been stolen from the walls, gems picks out of statues’ eyes, but the innermost chambers remained intact. Following the instruction of her deity, Nyx guided her small crew of the Historian, the Engineer, the Captain and the Surveyor into the ruins, leaving a skeleton crew and the Medic back on their waiting ship.

Absorbed in their explorations, they had not noticed a small band of scalpers had followed them into the ruins, catching wind of their conquests on nearby planets and looking to snag a few spoils for themselves.

Inside the temple, Nyx found the dormant hammer she would come to call Celeste, the Reaver of Stars. It slumbered, unwitting in its new owners hands, much too heavy for her and unwieldy. She did not fret — there would be time to learn how to best use it later. She had not expected to wish for those lessons so soon.

As they turned to leave, they were ambushed by a nasty group of grave-diggers. Several bandits and a mutant hound, they had not come to bargain. This inner chamber had remained a mystery for so long to many bands who wished to claim its contents. They would do anything, anything, to take those items for themselves. Fatally inexperienced and unequipped for such an encounter, the Traders crew left with one survivor that day: Nyx.

The Surveyor had been shot first, the Engineer set upon by knives. The Surveyor was caught trying to find cover to set explosives, and the Captain had bravely defended them until the hound had stripped every last one of the tentacles from his face.

Nyx froze in the face of violence, the scene she had seen so many times in her nightmares. Those screams, that blood — it was the vision of her friend’s deaths, a final resounding gift from Cosmos. She had always thought it was a view of the past, but she had seen these deaths many times before.

The Historian, ever the bookish man, had bravely pulled his gun on the bandits and stood in Nyx’s way, though he bled from his side and limped to her defense. They were terribly outnumbered now... and it was his blood that awakened Celeste.

The hammer split at the scenes, pulsing with sinew and loosing a terrible, anguished scream as it awakened to the taste of innocent blood.

It was a terrible, bloody dance that followed, Nyx barely conscious in her rage. Chaos took the reigns at some point, allowing her to abound in the reckless, divine chaos of the moment. She did not wield Celeste with experience, only blind grief and terror. It was enough to smite a few and send the others scrambling with a small handful of gems from the chamber. Nyx was too exhausted to pursue, still detached from her body as Chaos aided her, stumbling back to the ship. There had been no survivors, confirmed by the Medic.

The shock of the loss left her reeling. Truthfully, Nyx never quite recovered from that fateful day and the loss of the crew, especially not the Historian and the Captain who represented so much of her freedom and journey thus far. She felt terribly responsible for leading them there and putting them in the temple that day. Chaos urged her to seek balance... These feelings were as a result of an unfair loss that had left the ‘scales’ unbalanced. She should press onwards and seek revenge, to level the scales of justice in His favour again.

She gladly took this explanation as motivation, seeking some kind of direction after she was left drifting, listless following the loss. In an effort to memorialise her fallen crew, she took up the Historian’s mantle, continuing his research across the galaxy. As for the lives of the others... She turned to bounty hunting. She was sure to get her revenge that way.

THE TURN OF AN AGE — BALANCE RESTORED

Full of sorrow and remorse, Nyx left the fractured Trader’s crew. She had expressed her desire for revenge, and hoping to redirect her, the Medic had suggested she should try ‘Fortune’. Armed with her new weapon and a burning desire to never be helpless again, Nyx grew her strength day by day and conquered each power Chaos allowed her. She hunted, small things at first, testing her strength... and then tracked down every single remnant of that scalping crew with fervent determination that surprised even herself.

She exacted bloody revenge on every single one that had caused her grief and caused pain to her true family. The carnage delighted Chaos, who spurred her onwards. Her hunts became bigger, fostering a connection with Celeste and developing her unique fighting style to help her climb the ranks. She used her talents, those inherited from her clan and those gifted to her by Chaos, to become a fearsome hunter in the upper echelons of Fortune. Her strength belied her stature, a moonlit priestess who left curses and ashes in her wake.

For 13 years, she reigned as the Top Hunter for Inner Eye, renowned for completely reshaping battlefields to her whim, smiting the worst of her targets with inextinguishable purple flames and leaving those ‘live’ targets with a death sentence, branded into their skin. Death would come for them all, and Chaos would claim those who denied Him.

To her faction, she remained the polite mentor the Captain had taught her how to be, and the willing student the Historian had instilled in her. She guided those lost to the pathway of Chaos, and restored the fading history of those whose voices had been lost to time.

EVENING COMES FOR ALL OF US

An upcoming hunter in the ranks caught her eye — a Delilah Leach, as tenacious as she was capable. The history of each of her members was important to her, of course, but it never overshadowed the individual. She felt herself becoming restless again, seeking the fulfilment of her historical work over the endless hunting. She would continue to hunt, but would simply rescind the mantle to somebody new, to shift the balance to new, promising power so she could continue to spread the word of Chaos.

She maintained a good relationship with Delilah, supporting the new hunter as she distanced herself from hunting for a time. She dropped off the radar for a time, and rumour had it she made contact with her twin brother Yoruko after he made contact with her...

The truth of the rumour was that the Kishi clan had been hit with terrible disaster — first an environmental disaster after a trading ship had crashed carrying hazardous goods, starving most of the population into oblivion. Next, the planet they had fled to for salvation had been infested with a terrible, insatiable parasite.

When he reached out, he still had clarity of mind and control of his body. By the time she met with him, he had become nigh rabid, barely managing to keep his mind intact long enough to speak to her. In a moment of weakness, she embraced him, and their proximity overwhelmed his waning control. Yoruko bit her with a festering bite, a pain unlike any she had experienced before in her time hunting. Her hands blazed reflexively, Chaos igniting them in an effort to protect his prophet. She was too anguished to douse the flames, howling as she struggled with her own pain and watched her brother burn.

Nyx would come to learn later what kind of mercy she had given him, instead of allowing him to starve as a Carnasite vessel. At the immediate moment, she could barely manage with the changes that began to swiftly take hold of her, the strain she had been infected with particularly savage. Chaos strained their power to transport her to the nearest temple location, a buried portal on Ha’tut in the badlands outside Zavora. Protected by a great Voledan Sandworm, in a plain that continuously shifted, they believed she would be safe as she He worked on the worst of the parasite’s effects.

Inside the chamber, Chaos laid Nyx to rest in the embrace of His power. Weaved into a cocoon by the raging Carnasite, Nyx slumbered for the next few years. Considered dead to most, missing to others, Fortune would occasionally get sporadic signals from the tracking tag on Celeste, signal bleeding through the magic barrier that protected the temple chamber.

She would have continued to lie dormant there, if an expedition from Inner Eye had not happened upon the temple, solved the puzzles within, and awoken the Prophet of Chaos.

THE PROPHET RETURNS

The time resting served her well — once awakened, though weak, Nyx had completely synergised with the Carnasite. The original strength of the host and the arcane powers of Chaos fed into the maturation of the parasite, giving it strangely aware qualities. Curiously, it seems to have developed speech... using her brother’s voice. It carries a part of him too, and though she deeply regrets the circumstances that led to his death, she still bears the connection through his untimely gift.

Nyx now resides back at Fortune, having taken up the Assistant Leadership position she was offered by Motus before she disappeared.

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littlemisssquiggles · 6 years ago

Note

Hello! I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, but have you watched the Alita Battle Angel movie? If not, the synopsys is that an old doctor finds a cyborg bust in a scrapyard of trash that is dumped everyday by the floating city above, called Zalem. In your latest musing you mentioned something about trash being dumped from Atlas. What would you think if Upper Atlas were similar and it would dump trash in a scapyard, in Lower Atlas? And the workers there making use of it however they can?

‘SupYellow.Always a pleasure to hear from you so no worries there fam. Unfortunately I have notseen Alita.But I definitely want to since I’ve heard positive things about it; both themanga and the recent film adaptation. Despite knowing jack about the series, Ido like the idea you present here.

It wouldn’t surpriseme if something like that were possible with Atlas. It’s funny. Folks keepreferring to Atlas by Upper and Lower. Wouldn't Upper Atlas technically be just Atlas while the lower sector is the remnants of Mantle?

That’swhat I assumed it was. The lower city being Mantle below, unless I am deeplymistaken. I like the idea of Atlas dumping their trashinto Mantle with the People of Mantle living the life of scavengers;only managing to survive due to their resourceful nature by crafting workingmachinery and equipment from whatever scraps of and parts they managed tosalvage and/or pilfer from the junkyards dumped from Atlas.

It’dbe interesting if Atlas has become rather snobbish and discriminatory towardtheir Mantlese brethren over the years to the point that they don’t even donate their broken or unused materials to Mantle’scitadel, only granting them use of whatever they can scavenge from the massivepiles of junk they dump into their kingdom periodically. Like the rich andelite only granting charity to the poor by allowing them to take what they canfrom their trash bins for the week and considering that an act of generosity.

Imagine if … the Atlesians are the typeswho have grown so spoilt from their riches that they no longer see worth in their products anymore. To Atlas, it’s allabout advancement.Forwardever, backward never and when theold outdates the new, the old is disposed of so that the new can rise up andthrive. Take over even and lead them successfully towards a bright future. Itwouldn’t surprise if that is the mantra of Atlas because that is precisely whathappened with Atlas and Mantle’s history. Atlas rose up to the point that it overshadowed Mantle and rather than aid those left behind intheir predecessor kingdom, it seems that Atlas has lost all touch with itsroots.

Allthe more reason why I’m digging the concept of the People of Mantle being scavengers—thegood kind who see worth ineverything around them, since their generations have been forced to survive onso little for so long and thus become more adaptive and more appreciative ofwhat they have and cherish. And becauseof that, they are able to make wonders with what bit they can use from the UpperWorld.

Thisalso makes me think of a really cool hunch I have concerning Penny Polendina’sfather/creator. For the sake of my musings, I’m going to refer to him as Dr. Japheth Polendina until his official canon name is revealed. If mymemory serves correctly, Gepetto isthe Italian form of the name Japheth whichis a name of Hebrew origin meaning ‘expansion’.

I think Japheth is afitting pseudo-name for Dr. Polendina since my assumption is that he is a greatand well-renowned scientist and inventor in Atlas whose inventions hascontributed towards the kingdoms’ advancement. Makes sense, right? Beyond that,another theory I have is Dr. Polendina is unlike a lot of Atlesians . Itwouldn’t surprise me if Dr. Polendina, like many from his generation (MariaCalavera and Nicholas Schnee) was born after the Great War and contributedtowards Atlas taking over from Mantle.

Howeverunlike other Atlesians who seem to have discarded theirMantlese heritage and traditions, Dr. Polendina still holds stubbornly onto his.I like the irony of Dr. Polendina being old-fashioned despite being the inventor of so many creationsthat helped Atlas move forward. I think that could be a cool contrast to hischaracter. I like the idea of Dr. Polendina being a smart yet modest and humbleold man (maybe even a lil cuckoo for coco puffs), who doesn’t just create foradvancement but rather help humanity because he genuinely sees wonder and value in everything around him. Despite it being a traditionhis younger associates don’t understand and have tried to beat out of him foryears, y’know since they all mostly consider him a fossil and only keep himaround for his unique genius. Nonetheless Dr. Polendina sees worth in everything—includinga lifeless robotic husk he treated and loved like a daughter. That’s my theoryfor Dr. Polendina if you or anyone who were ever curious.

Ithink an anon-ninja once asked me what elements of Gepetto/Pinocchio I think will be incorporated in V7. Well I thinkthat’s one of them. I’d love to think that Japheth also shares a history with Arthur Watts.I can’t help this nagging hunch I have that Arthur Watts was probably the formerapprentice of Dr. Polendina who he loved like a son.

Inthe Pinocchio tale, Geppetto was an elderly woodcarver whoseemed to not have any former children of his own hence why he createdPinocchio and wished for him to be a real boy.

Imagine if it was the same for Dr.Polendina. Whatif… Japheth was a man who had dedicated his life so much toadvancing Atlas that he never got the chance to have the thing he wanted morethan anything—a family or at least someone to love him like one. Picture Japheth living a depressing life where he losttouch with his former family in Mantle and the closest thing to a family he hadin Atlas was a former apprentice who he cherished like the child he never had whoended up betrayinghim before disappearing entirely,believed to be dead (i.e. Dr. Arthur Watts) and lastly, Penny—the android heloved like a daughter but also ultimately lost.

Ican go on and on about my theories for Dr. Polendina but that’s the theory Imainly wish to share here. As you brought up Alita, it made me think ofsomething interesting. I have this Penny-centric theorywhere as soon as our heroes arrive in Atlas, they soon discover, much toRuby’s shock and disgust that Penny was made into a line of sentient service androidswho was being mass produced and sold to the People of Atlas.

Picture Detroit Become Human but with just Penny asthe sole android series. RWBY Chibi S2 kindof teased the concept of Penny being sold as a doll. So what ifthat will be the case for V7? What if…in current Atlas, Penny is now a popular brand of service androiddolls sold to the Atlesian public to perform many different roles insociety. Picture Penny being like the Barbie Doll of Atlas exceptthat she’s a life-sized sentient machine. Picture all kinds of Penny models beingsold each programmed with a series of different functions tailor made to fitwhatever role her user/buyer bought her to perform.

Imagine Ruby standing in acity populated with different Pennies—-Waitress Penny, Nurse Penny, Traffic Cop Penny, TourGuide Penny, etc.—who all look and sound just like Ruby’s Pennybut isn’t her. And what’s even more horrifying to Ruby is what Penny’s legacyhas dissolved into. Back in V3 I believe, Penny told Ruby that she wasoriginally made to protect Remnant. She was made to be a hero. The first of her kind tobe used to protect humanity.

Imagine howmuch of an insult it would be if this is what Ruby finds out Atlasdid to her friend after she was murdered. Not remember her as a hero butbasically a living toy to beused and abused as her consumers feel.

That’sinsane!Which is all the more reason why I want this theory to come true. I was askedlong ago by a FNDM fam about how Ruby would feel if she saw Penny locked away insidesome pod inside a laboratory. I never got around to actually answering that questionbecause Tumblr buried the original response post I was going to edit. If thatuser happens to read all of my answer posts, here is my answer to your questionnow.

Rubyreacting to a rebuilt Penny being locked safely inside a pod? Ahahaa! How about I giveyou something grimmer?

Ontop of Atlas mass producing Penny and treating her like a plaything rather than the heroshe was meant to be, you wanna know my theory for what they did with originalPenny?

Myhunch is that originalPenny is put in the trash. Meaningthat after her body was returned to Atlas, there was a meeting between themembers of the Atlas Council debating on whether or not the military projectPenny was born from should be terminated or not. Even though Ironwood is the mainauthoritarian from Atlas that we’ve met so far, I’d like to think there is another topleader calling the shots whoIronwood actually serves under.

Ifthe Atlas Council is anything like Vale’s, then there are at least threemembers on the council governing the Kingdom. From what I remember back in V4,Ironwood says he holds two seats on the council. This leaves the third and lastseat and it’s here where I think we’ll have a new authoritarian character who Ironwoodlistens to.

Basicallyit was this Atlas Council Member introduced and signed off on the idea ofturning Penny into a doll to be sold to the public. I don’t know of any puppet masters in any knownfairy tales but perhaps this Councilman, as I’ll refer to him in mymusings, could be based off of the Coachman from Pinocchio. In the 1883 book TheAdventures of Pinocchio, the Coachman was a villain who kidnapped children tobring them to Toy Island in which the bad children turned into donkeys.

IfFNDM fam thought General Ironwood was a cross due to his deep authoritarian waysand leadership then imagine someone worse than Ironwoodbut lacking the compassion. Picture… the Councilman being the type to make ajackass out of the General Ironwood since Ironwood generally has torun everything by him and the Councilman has Ironwood wrapped around his pinkie,especially now that he hasn’t been well—psychologically. I actually kinda digthis idea.

Sothe Councilman convinces Ironwood that the best way to dissolve the mess the Vytalescapade left on the military and the People of Atlas following Beacon is to turnPenny into a doll series—allowing her to fulfil the purpose she was made for.Serving humanity by serving humanity as a service doll. There are even Penniesbeing used by the military.

WhileDr. Polendina wouldn’t sign off on something like this—imagine it being oneof those uncomfortable scenarios where one’s hand is forced because they arebacked into a corner by people trying to either bullyor manipulate them. In the case of Japheth, it was both theCouncilman trying to bully him into doing his job for the military and Ironwood,though sympathetic towards the doctor and his loss, still trying to somewhatemotionally manipulate the man into doing as he and the Councilman ordered byusing Penny and the reasons she was made in the first place as his motive.

It’snot a nice game but in the end, against his wishes, Dr. Polendina had no choicebut to hand over his research and the original body of Penny and concur as themilitary—mainly the Councilman did what they pleased with her.

Andin the end, once they were done, they didn’t even have the common courtesy toreturn Penny to her father. Instead, like many things in Atlas, Penny wasdiscarded and her remains ended up in the junkyards near Mantle. I even have away RWBY canincorporate Monstro into the Atlas Arc. You know how in Pinocchio,Gepetto got swallowed by the giant whale?

Wellwhat if…at some point, the heroes visit Lower Atlas on their voyage towards Mantle. Mytheory is that at some point during the Schnee Family Affairsstoryline of the Atlas Arc, Weiss will go in search of her missing grandfatherNicholas Schnee and her searches will take her and her friends down from Atlasinto Mantle’s depth. During their voyage, the group end up in the junkyardsbelow.

Apparently,people aren’t allowed to go in the junkyards. Part of it is due to Atlas being stingy towards Mantle even with their junk and anotheris for the reason that there is a massive Grimm known to roam the junkyards.That monster is GrimmMonstro—a colossal land whale type Grimm that burrows undergroundand swims through the sea of garbage in the junk piles looking for anyunsuspecting victims to rise up and swallow.

I have this idea where Ruby andOscar are swallowed alive by Grimm Monstro and it’s in the belly of the Grimm where Ruby discovers Penny’s originaldestroyed body. Perhaps…as a better alternative, that’s how she and Oscargot swallowed in the first place. Ruby spots OG Penny while in the junkyard.Goes off on her own to retrieve her despite Oscar’s initial warnings that somethingfelt off about the junkyard however Ruby ignores hisadvice. Ruby makes it to Penny’s body in time for Grimm Monstro to rise up.Oscar jumps in to rescue Ruby. The two try their best to outrun the giant Grimmbut end up getting swallowed alive. That could be FREAKING EPIC!

Little Red Riding Hood and PrincessOzma working together to escape Monstroand save themselves plus Pinocchio is a future RWBY episodeI’d love to see for Atlas. YES PLEASE! Sign my ass up!

Andif all that comes true, we could even get Ruby and Oscar working together to revive original Penny.

Ifmy theory about Oscarawakening his inner mechanic and inventor comes to fruition, imagine Ruby begging Oscar to help her revive her formerfriend using his skills. Knowing and fully understanding how much this means toRuby, Oscar accepts and the two rosebuds get to work together. I would lovethis so much!

Ithink this could be really cool especially if after Penny gets successfully restoredthrough Oscar’s know-how, she starts calling Oscar ‘brother’. I’ll give you three veryimportant reasons why I love this idea.

Firstly,I’ve seen some fans comparing Oscar to Penny so me, being the proud Pinehead and Polendiva (Penny Polendina fan) that I amstarted to dig the idea of Penny and Oscar having a brother-sister dynamic.Like after Oscar helps rebuild her, Penny starts treating him like he was her big brother.Not father since Dr. Japheth is her father.

Secondly,I like Penny calling Oscar ‘brother’ because of the obvious, very on the nosecall back to FMA. Come on! You know how much I love those.

Andlastly, I love this idea because it appeals to another Pinehead headcanon I have where Oscar becomes an apprentice under Dr. Polendina anddevelops a father/son bond with the old inventor. I did say I wantedOscar to have a godmother type character who adopts him in Atlas. Perhapsinstead of a fashion designer, it’s an genius inventor who acts as hisgodfather.

Penny andDr. Polendina both adopting Oscar into their family = HELLA FREAKING YES.

You know my mantra. #EverybodyAdoptsOscar

I’dlove to expand more on this idea some more but I think I’ll save it for anothermusing. This response post is long enough. But for what it’s worth, I hope youlike my answer Yellow.Let me know what you think if you can pretty please. Would like to hear yourthoughts on my thoughts.

~LittleMissSquiggles(2019)

#squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #ruby rose #penny polendina #rwby theories #rwby v7 theories #rwby volume 7 #rwby v7 #yellow-eyed-green-crocodile #pinehead headcanons #squiggles pinehead headcanons

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blood-and-cigars · 6 years ago

Note

More alutegra angst pls

Integra slipped the door closed behind her with a light click. She should have noticed the icy chill in the air, how the shadows clung darker to the corners of her room despite the first rays of dawn filtering inside. But she was hazy on terrible vodka. (It wasn’t even cheap, just bad) It took her a moment to register the figure standing by the window, silhouetted by the bruise purple sky. Of course Alucard was still awake.

She ignored him, instead she dropped her handbag on a chair and wrestled out of her coat— still in the dark. Ghostly fingers reached out for it, and she let them slip it from her shoulders. He was clearly trying to get some sort of rise out of her; she didn’t intend to let him.

Integra had stopped staying at the manor past sundown and so he’d taken to waking early in the day. He anticipated her return, she thought, like some trapped damsel in a tale. No, like a dog watching the driveway. Waiting always waiting with a blind devotion that she knew was unearned, and shuddered to consider how it had come about.

“My Master.” He turned to her with what she thought to be a smile playing at his lips. “You must be trying to put Walter in an early grave.”

Only then did she remember the briefing she’d missed, scheduled hours ago.

It wasn’t the first time either, she’d taken to staying away, to drinking late and working remotely in the evenings. She preferred to avoid the manor at night, and more specifically the vampire waiting in the basement for her return.

How could she have simply forgotten? She wanted to think it wasn’t like her to be so scatterbrained. Well, she supposed there’d be other briefings.

She shrugged. “He hasn’t said anything yet.” She slipped her shoes off letting them fall where they may. There was the not entirely unpleasant echo of a song stuck in her head. Whatever had just been playing on the radio. Oh, she was more than a little tipsy.

Sometimes she wondered what his hands would look like on her skin. If she rested her head on his shoulder and listened to him breathe—

No. That was the opposite of where her mind should be wandering.

“He won’t. You’re his employer.” It took a bewildered moment for her to remember what he was replying to. Right. They were still talking about Walter.

He had to be grinning. It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but she heard the mirth in his voice.

As if on cue, the lights flipped on. She blinked as her eyes adjusted. If she turned to look over her shoulder, no doubt she would see a disembodied hand— or if he was feeling exceptionally dramatic, maybe some inky half liquid mass—lingering on the light switch. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of checking either way.

“And I am your Master. Does that stop you?” She walked past him— just a touch too close, the fabric of his coat grazed her sleeve— and collapsed onto a pile of pillows on her bed.

“I wouldn’t dream of questioning you,” he said, just solemnly enough to be comical. “I merely… suggest that you be more upfront about your excursions. You don’t need to pretend you’re sneaking out.”

She scoffed. “I wasn’t. And Walter’s fairly advanced in age already. I’d say he’s had a good life.”

He laughed at that before taking a seat next to her. “I’ll let him know you think so.” His hair lifted and swayed around him in an invisible breeze, a few locks reached out to brush her cheek. Presumptuous as always.

Yes she’d been avoiding him— the curve of his lip when he spoke to her. The way, among his ever changing forms, his eyes were always the same.

Alucard was her vampire, and though he seemed casually affectionate of her, though he sought her out even when she ignored him, she couldn’t help but think that every time she indulged him she was somehow exploiting this magic that tied them together, and the various ways a mind could twist after nearly a century of captivity.

However, for this moment the tension had fallen away by the graces of exhaustion and drunkenness and she remembered how easy it was to be around him, when she didn’t consider the blood on his hands, or what it meant to be the one that controlled him.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I’d ask you the same thing. You did not sleep the night, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” she said.

“Now tell me Integra,” he said, grin acerbic. “Is this how you intend to lead? Sneaking back inside your own home stumbling and drunk? You’re setting such an example.”

“Says the man infamous for impaling his victims.”

“Am I the moral standard you set yourself to? That’s going to end very well.” His mouth twitched but he didn’t show any other sign of displeasure at the mention of his human life. “Oh and everyone’s half convinced you’re dead, might I add.”

“Of course they’re panicking.” She sighed. “I took the car, what did they think happened?”

He shrugged. “We are so accustomed to our Sir Hellsing being married to her work. Surely only disaster would keep her away from responsibility.”

“I was tired and… I forgot. Surely you can carry on for a single day without me?”

“Night,” he said. “It’s the question of whether we can carry on without you for a single night. And I’m not sure, can we?”

“Well apparently not.” She stared at the room not quite seeing it, wondering how she could clean up this mess. The worst part was that he was right, she knew no one else would ever say a word about this.

“Integra, as far as vices go, this isn’t the worst. But it isn’t the healthiest either. Will you consider… ”

“Consider what?” She turned to him, waiting. In certain conversations with her, he always chose his words very carefully. Yet another thing she didn’t want to think about; the list was ever growing.

For better or worse she liked his presence, he’d been a constant in her life these last few years. And she suspected there was genuine fondness in the way he gazed at her sometimes; perhaps even now.

He’d doted on her since she was a young girl in a way she liked to think he didn’t have to.

“I watched your father take on this very same mantle, and I saw how your grandfather shaped it. They both struggled. Hellsing suffocates its leaders, it’s a cloying thing. When you run from it, it only becomes hungrier in your absence. ”

“Are you sure you’re talking about the organization?”

“You might balk at the sheer burden resting upon your shoulders,” he said, ignoring her half hearted attempt at a joke. “However, your time is yours, and so are the decisions. Should you choose to leave, should you choose to work, should you choose to have me disembowel anyone who earns your ire.”

He was beautiful, in his own way. So beautiful that sometimes when he knelt at her feet to gaze up at her, her heart would hurt with it. And when he did not grin and show those teeth, his face was soft and almost kind.

Their faces lingered too close for a moment and she just knew he heard her breath catch. Of course he smirked.

“What are you getting at with this, Alucard?”

“I mean, my Master, that all of us bend to your will. If you do not wish to sit in for a briefing, all you’d need to do is speak the words and there is no briefing. It’s far simpler than making yourself sick with drink. You may hold my leash more literally than most, but do not forget we are all of us at your beck and call.”

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “And, if I don’t want this power? If I don’t know what to do with it?”

There was no denying the fact that she was a teenage girl saddled with responsibilities and decisions she could hardly comprehend and each morning and night she wondered at her own inadequacy at handling them. She was so young, brimming with it. She nursed the slow growing wounds in her heart with more bad choices and staggered back to the manor— no it was not home— every time, feeling even more hollow than before.

“Contrary to what might often be said, there is more pain in youth. More suffering, and it will only reflect on your future. Set yourself up for unhappiness now and you’ll have a lifetime of it waiting for you. You may not want your power, but it has you. And it will consume you, if given the chance.”

She looked away, to the creeping dawn outside, and the daylight that did not reach inside her room. She didn’t know what to make of this conversation.The first year, the very first year, she’d decided that her father simply hadn’t known. Alucard was clearly a good vampire (whatever that meant) and Arthur must have been tricked into thinking otherwise.There was a mistake, somewhere along the line. There were many mistakes and misunderstandings but that didn’t matter anymore, she’d thought, because she knew now and things would be better.She’d been a foolish child. She thought she probably still was, in many ways. Unfortunately while hindsight is 20/20 it isn’t as easy to discern one’s current failings. Sometimes she liked to think of herself as a memory, as something far away. She’d sit and pretend she was watching herself from ten, twenty years in the future, which of her present choices would she be ashamed of then? Nothing? Everything?

She hadn’t noticed that he’d been searching her face, with varying signs of distress. Likely checking if he’d offended her somehow.

He’d told her before that while she’d forbidden him to take liberties with her mind, he did catch snippets of her thoughts here and there. That he could sense high emotions, even if he couldn’t unravel what exactly they were.

She smiled wanly in assurance. “That was unnecessarily long winded, you know.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t certain you were sober enough to keep up. Walter rescheduled the briefing for this evening. Will you attend?”

“Going out is much more fun though, don’t you think? If I’m staying in, then you must entertain me instead.” The change was subtle. She wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t close enough to touch. He went very still for a moment, and she could see something about his relaxed posture was now forced. She could’ve blinked and missed the look of sheer horror cross his face before he smoothed out his features.

Integra watched him, confused. Had something happened? Had he sensed some disaster somewhere else? It’d just been a joke, she’d expected a half hearted smile. Another one of his silly responses. Really the question was nothing compared to the outrageous things he’d said to her before.

“If that’s what you wish, Master.” And the hollow, too steady tone to his voice made her understand.

“No.” She jumped to her feet, as if putting more distance between them would prove her point. “Absolutely not— I’d never expect anything like— it was a joke. I was making a joke.”

He did not move for too long, that falsely pleasant expression frozen on his face. “Are you running from me little Master? I thought you wanted entertainment. Come here, let me entertain you.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“If my Master desires my bloody embrace, who am I to deny it?” He crossed over to where she stood in a flurry of shadow. His voice turned raw, barely human. “Does it thrill you to think of all the lives I’ve taken? The bones I’ve snapped between my teeth? Or is the appeal in fucking a glorified corpse? Tell me Integra, do you aspire to necrophilia?” She flinched away from him, knocking into the wall behind her. From her eye level all she could see were his teeth. “Stop,” she hissed. “That is enough of this. Get away from me. Sit down.” “Is that an order?” He did not back away just yet, but he straightened, putting some distance between them.

“It is.”

And so he had to obey. She thought she saw his hands tremble, but then he folded them neatly in his lap. “Any other instructions for me, my Master?” Of course his tone was mocking. She raked her fingers through her hair. God knew she wasn’t sober enough for whatever this travesty was. “I have cigars in the nightstand. Give them to me.” He did as she said, but not before a disapproving look. “You’re too young to smoke.” “I thought I’d give myself a head start.” She lit one of the cigars with an unsteady hand. It didn’t do much to calm her, she hadn’t expected it to, but at least it was something to focus on. She couldn’t quite bring herself to peel herself off the wall yet. “Well that explains the smell.”

“I was joking,” she said again. It was not lost on her how quickly he’d jumped to that particular conclusion. “So that is Hellsing’s great legacy, is it?”

He did not respond at first, only watched her. She could tell the stillness was a thin veneer, ready to collapse at any moment. Underneath there was a depth of hysterical restlessness, or perhaps that was just how she felt herself.

“I have nothing,” he said. “Yet you Hellsings always want. ”

She thought of her father and his calm reassuring voice. Of the portrait of Van Helsing hanging in the foyer, of the stories Arthur had told her about the legendary grandfather she’d never met.

She took a deep pull from the cigar, let it out in a puff of smoke. She counted heart beats until her breath was sufficiently even before she asked, “Even my father?” But still her voice came out small, frightened.

“You mustn’t ask questions you don’t want answered.”

“Are you trying to spare my feelings?” She asked, incredulous.

Again that thin calm broke. “Fine. What would you like to know, Integra?” He all but snarled. “Your father liked his alcohol, just as much as you, and Abraham now that I think of it. It must run in the family.” His smile twisted. “ He expected drinks before bed, several. He preferred his top shelf scotch, but really he’d down an entire bottle of dessert wine if that’s all there was on hand.

“Do you know what else he liked? Young girls. Very young girls. Have I shown you my other forms before? It took some time before we settled on his favorite.”

“I’ve heard enough.”

“He was also very fond of rope, and chains. For himself ironically. And surprisingly enough that was the worst part, for me. You see I’m loathe to cause a Hellsing pain, I think it’s part of the seal. But Arthur—“

“Stop it, stop it. You were right I don’t want to know.”

“ Did you want to hear about Abraham instead? He had two identical medical kits— modified for vampires of course. One was for research, the other for—”

“Just shut up, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes it bloody well is.” She shut her eyes for a moment, forced herself to calm down in the ensuing silence. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“The iniquity of the father is indeed visited upon the children, Integra. You meet the eyes of your forefathers’ sin every day. Does that upset you?”

“What do you think?” She put out the forgotten cigar in her ashtray. Not much of it was left anyway, it had all but burned out.

“It isn’t my place to make assumptions, is it?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, because really that’s all she could say. “I’m sorry for my family’s past actions, and that I made you recount them.”

“May I stand?”

She looked at him, confused for a moment before she remembered her orders. “Yes, of course. You may leave, if you wish.”

He did not stand. Instead it seemed he was slowly dissolving into thin air.

“Alucard, wait.”

“You are indecisive today, my Master.” He paused, more silhouette than person at that point.

“I will never use my power over you in such a way. And if I ever do, you have free reign to slit my throat.”

“And kill the last Hellsing? Who then will hunt the creatures of the night? Who will keep me in check? Do you intend to release me upon an unsuspecting world, Integra?”

She was silent.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, the seal wouldn’t allow anything so drastic, in any case.” He hadn’t appeared to move, but he was closer now, on his knees before her. “My first Master was far too clever for that, he thought of everything.”

“You don’t sound displeased by that.”

“He was an extraordinary man; I loved him. I loved Arthur too.” He laughed bitterly. He did not look at her as he spoke, “I embrace that which destroys me. I adore it. Do you intend to destroy me Integra?”

“No,” she said softly. Her throat was hoarse, as if she’d wept, as if she’d screamed. And maybe it was because she was still a little drunk, but she reached out, tentatively, to cup his cheek.

He tensed for a moment, before leaning into the touch. “Is that a promise?”

“It is.”

“No, it’s a pretty lie.” And with that he disappeared, leaving her alone in the morning sun, still reaching out for nothing in particular.

For awhile after, all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. Unsteadily she changed into a fresh set of clothes.

Walter would be preparing breakfast, she best go down to apologize.

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alucard #integra #angst #stockholm syndrome #it's fucked up okay #you've been warned #i ramble sometimes #*writer's cap*#all the bendy punctuations #a mysterious stranger has appeared #it's not *really* alutegra actually... like they ARE into each other at all but the context of this scene isn't meant to be romantic #it's like you can still like someone even love someone but the specific dynamics of power and consent matter #a string of words

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thedcdunce · 6 years ago

Text

Vandal Savage

“I am not a caveman. I am a visionary. A veteran and orchestrator of every significant war mankind has ever had. And I will continue to shape the world for the war of tomorrow. My tomorrow.” - Vandal Savage

Real Name: Vandar Adg II

Aliases:

Cain

Blackbeard

Emperor Licinius of Rome

Mister Dekker

Gender: Male

Height: 5′ 10″

Weight: 176 lbs (80 kg)

Eyes: Brown

Hair: Black

Powers:

Unique Physiology

Dimensional Travel

Abilities:

Genius Level Intellect

Leadership

Martial Arts

Seamanship

Swordsmanship

Tactical Analysis

Weaponry

Firearms

Multilingualism

Equestrianism

Weaknesses:

Blood Sacrifice

Universe:

Earth-Two

New Earth

Parents: Vandar Adg; father

Marital Status: Single

First Appearance: Green Lantern #10 (December, 1943)

Last Appearance: Action Comics #900 (June, 2011)

Powers

Unique Physiology

Immortality

Enhanced Intellect

Superhuman Durability

Superhuman Strength

Superhuman Speed

Dimensional Travel

Abilities

Genius Level Intellect

Leadership

Martial Arts

Seamanship

Swordsmanship

Tactical Analysis

Weaponry

Firearms

Multilingualism: He knows English, Egyptian, Frankish, French, Greek, Russian, German, Latin, Spanish, Romanian, Atlantean, and possibly various others.

Equestrianism

Weaknesses

Blood Sacrifice: Savage renews these powers through the consumption of his enemies' blood. Savage must also harvest the organs of his blood descendants to sustain his immortal life.

Origins

Vandar Adg was a caveman and leader of the Blood Tribe who was born 50,000 years ago. When he was a teenager, a mysterious man killed his father, who was named Vandar Adg. When Adg grew to the manhood, a mysterious meteor crashed to the ground, bathing him in radiation, and granting him incredible intellect and immortality. An observer from the Bear Tribe would later approach that same meteorite and become Savage's eternal nemesis, the Immortal Man, possessing the power to resurrect as a new persona every time he is killed.

He took the name Vandal Savage but he was banned from the Blood Tribe after losing a fight to Bruce Wayne, who was lost in time. His first mark on history came when he and a select group of people successfully undermined and destroyed the lost city of Atlantis. That group of people became known as the Illuminati, with Savage serving as its leader, then and ever since.

In 2578 BC, Nabu, a Lord of Order, created the Scarab with the help of a time traveler from the 20th Century. This was an attempt to overthrow Savage, who was at that time the pharaoh called Khafre; an impostor instead was killed in his place.

Around 1000 AD, a prophecy by a soothsayer told him he one day meet "The Hanged Man" who will meddle with the pair of Black Lantern he discovered. He decided to create the city of Sapristi in Bohemia along with a fortress to trap to "Hanged Man."

In 1358 AD, Savage returned on hunt for the hanged man. Every time he returned he used the spheres in his possession to emit an emotional aura which pleasantly enrages him, and causes the city of Sapristi to erupt into rage and chaos. He toured the city over the centuries in hunt for his future rival.

In 1718 AD, Savage adopted the name of Edward Thatch, also known as the pirate Blackbeard and became a prominent figure in the criminal world. Using this name, Savage started looking for the treasure of the Miagani and defeated "The Black Pirate" in his quest. However, he came across Bruce Wayne once again and Savage was tricked after reaching the mysterious cave. After losing most of his crew, Savage was forced to retreat from Gotham and months later, rumors about Blackbeard's death began to spread across the land. However, the man who was killed was one of Savage's own crew. Savage survived and let everyone believe that Blackbeard was dead.

Once again in the 19th century, Savage adopted a new identity under the name of Monsieur Savage. He settled in Gotham City after he stole gold from Napoleon Bonaparte and learned of a secret box that held the secret to eternal life. As he had been diagnosed with a cancer, he sought the box to extend his already long-lived existence with help from bounty hunter Jonah Hex and a man called Thomas Wayne. However, his efforts were once again thwarted by Bruce Wayne, who retrieved the box from him and left him unconscious after another confrontation.

Over the centuries, Savage's name appeared over and over again in Western history, as adviser to kings and pharaohs in Sumer, Egypt, and Europe. He claimed to have ruled hundreds of civilizations under hundreds of names: Khafre, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, and Vlad the Impaler, to name a few. He had also worked as close friends and advisers to the likes of Erik the Red, Napoleon Bonaparte, Ra's al Ghul, Otto von Bismarck and Adolf Hitler. He was the court physician in France, and even used the royal family for syphilis experiments.

Modern Age

Beginning in the 1940s, Savage frequently battled the Justice Society of America. One attempt to capture the members of the Justice Society out of revenge was thwarted by two Flashes, Jay Garrick and Barry Allen.

Ultimately, Savage's enemy, the Immortal Man, erased himself from existence to save the world during the Crisis on Infinite Earths, and Mitch Shelley, the Resurrection Man, an amnesiac with similar powers, took over as Savage's nemesis. However, Savage's list of foes is not limited to those two individuals. Having lived so long, Savage has butted heads with possibly every single hero in past, present, and future, most notably the Justice Society of America and the Justice League of America. At present, Savage is about 52,000 years old.

Over time, Savage forgot many of his special powers, and never exhibited them to Barry Allen. However, he later began a quest to recharge them by killing. His first intended victim was Wally West, who by then had taken over the mantle of the Flash. During this time, he operated the Villers Gallery, an antique salon on Fifth Avenue in New York City. A private investigator by the name of Harold Halston from Thermopolis, Wyoming had been investigating one Varney Sack at the request of a local realtor. Sack turned out to be Savage, and the immortal man killed Halston once he figured the the private eye knew too much. In a showdown at the Club Neon, Wally, with the help of Frances Kane, fought Savage. He fell out of a window, but he disappeared before he hit the ground.

Savage surfaced again later, this time selling Velocity 9, a highly addictive super-speed drug of his own creation, which interfered with much of the existing drug trade in New York. He put an ad in the paper that attracted successful yuppies, who he used to do his bidding by giving them Velocity 9 so they could perform high speed crimes. However, these junkies aged at magnificent rates and suffered strokes easily.

Savage wished to use the heroin distribution network headed by mob boss Nick Bassaglia to distribute Velocity 9 to lawyers and stockbrokers, hoping to gain financial control of New York. However, Flash, who had gone looking for Bassaglia after he was kidnapped by Savage, was injected with Velocity 9. After giving him a short spurt of incredible speed, it took away his powers. Hoping that a second dose would make him another one of his junkies, Savage told Dr. Conrad Bortz to inject the Flash, who instead injected Savage, who ran away.

He reappeared later, wanting money to leave the country. This money he attempted to acquire by kidnapping Rosie, the daughter of Wally's landlord, Mr. Gilchrist, with a ransom of five million dollars. He set many traps for the Flash, who was looking for Rosie, which led him to Barry Allen's grave, where Rosie was being kept. However, throughout all of this, Savage never showed his face.

Originally Savage was a member of Alexander Luthor's Secret Society of Super-Villains, but he quit and told Lex not to contact him for any reason. This was likely because his daughter Scandal was working against the Society as part of the Secret Six. When the Society lodged a final ambush against the Six, Vandal threatened to kill Luthor if he did not call off the attack, saying that he could not allow anyone to harm his daughter. Whether this was a case of fatherly concern or Vandal has ulterior motives for his daughter remains to be seen.

One Year Later

During the wake of the Infinite Crisis, Savage took a drastic turn his own ways on taking over the world in which he decided to restart human civilization by destroying Earth by pulling an asteroid into the planet. While leading a doomsday cult to help his plan accomplish, Savage's plot was foiled by the Flash and the asteroid was sent back into space, along with Savage. Eventually the asteroid fell back to Earth with Savage, who then discovered his immortality was declining and would therefore lead to his own demise. Savage chose to preserve his life by stealing the DNA of Green Lantern Alan Scott. Using a deformed clone of the original Sandman, Wesley Dodds, Vandal Savage's plans of capturing Scott failed. However, Savage found himself surviving by inhumane means when consuming a clone of himself, preserving his life a year longer.

Savage would later form a group of super-powered Neo-Nazis called the Fourth Reich to murder the heirs of several Golden Age superhero bloodlines, in the belief that eliminating the bloodlines will eliminate the heroes' legacies and allow him to continue his goal of reshaping the world according to his own desires. His victims include Minute-Man, Mister America, and General Glory, along with their families. Savage took the liberty of personally eliminating Wildcat and his son Tom Bronson himself, but only to be underestimated by Bronson's transformation into a cat-like creature who was able to overcome Savage. Ultimately, Savage's slaughter ended with his temporary defeat by Wildcat and his son, and the Fourth Reich defeated by the Justice Society.

Salvation Run

Savage was captured by American government authorities and was among of many villains that were secretly deported to the hell planet called "Salvation," which unknown to the deportees and their handlers that the planet was a training ground for the Parademons of Apokolips. Surviving the planet's deadly flora and fauna, Savage used his knowledge to locate a "safe zone" freed from any predators. He lead a group of all-female villains to this safe zone with intentions of mating them and to build his own civilization. However, the women turned against him once they learned that he had been manipulating them to turn against each other. Ultimately, Savage escaped back to Earth along with the villains following an attack by Parademons sent by Desaad.

Final Crisis

After returning to Earth, Savage became a member of the Society's second incarnation underneath Libra, serving as one of his inner cabinet members, during the Final Crisis. He also became involved with the Religion of Crime and was revealed to be actually the man the Religion of Crime worships as "Cain", the original murderer and sinner. Savage was reborn as Cain after cultists of the Religion of Crime plunged the Spear of Destiny into him. As Cain, he went on a path of revenge against the Spectre for punishing Cain in the past.

Managing to defeat the Spectre, Cain used the Spear of Destiny to separate the Spirit of Vengeance from his human host, Crispus Allen, and made him his slave. Though he almost has his revenge Cain's plan went undone by The Question, who managed to steal the Spear and reunite the Spectre with Crispus Allen. The Spectre spared from killing Cain as forbidden by God and instead had him branded by the Mark of Cain, being forever reviled and persecuted by the world until God feels that this punishment was justified.

Savage walked the Earth after his devastating defeat before coming across and assisting his colleague Ra's al Ghul and the Outsiders on defeating Savage's former tribesmen called the Insiders, who were exposed to the same meteor that granted Savage immortality. Savage would later on encounter the Huntress and The Question, managing through threats against the both of their lives to get The Question to take the Mark of Cain from him and carry it herself.

Fun Facts

Savage will possibly meet his end in the year 85,271 A.D., when he is sent back in time to 20th century Montevideo, Uruguay, seconds before it is decimated by a nuclear weapon, an action that was, ironically, ordered by Savage himself. This is, however, only one possible future for Savage.

Archaeological evidence has suggested that Vandal Savage is actually the inventor of Cannibalism.

Vandal Savage has been alive for centuries. As such he has influenced a few notable people in history, he was influenced by a few others and he actually was a few people in history. These people include Licinius, Varney Sack, Burt Villers, Khafre, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, Vlad the Impaler and Jack the Ripper.

According to Savage, 34,000 years ago he invented the carving knife, 3,200 years ago he fought alongside Moses to lead the Isrealites out of Egypt from the Pharoah's rule, and 1,600 years he survived the destruction of the library of Alexandria.

#vandal savage #vandar adg ii #vandar adg #vandar adg 2 #cain #blackbeard #emperor licinius of rome #emperor licinius #mister dekker #religion of crime #fourth reich #illuminati #injustice society #tartarus #blood tribe #the society #dc #DC comics #thedcdunce

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precuredaily · 6 years ago

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Precure Day 094

Episode: Futari wa Precure Max Heart 43 - “The Final Winter Break! A Special Lesson For Zakenna?!” Date watched: 12 November 2018 Original air date: 25 December 2005 Screenshots: https://imgur.com/a/OnbQjul

hai chiizu

I was actually surprised by the broadcast date of this one because without any mention of Christmas in the episode, I figured it had already passed. I know it kind of comes and goes how much they talk about it in a given season, GoPri and Maho Girls stand out in my memory as being the most Christmasy, but this just skips right past it. Odd. (I did some looking into Japanese Christmas traditions and while they certainly differ from American or European traditions, I would have thought they’d acknowledge the day itself somehow) Anyway it’s time for some more tying up loose ends and more mysterious connections between Hikari and the boy in the mansion.

Nagisa and Honoka have officially passed on the mantle of leadership in their respective clubs. The new lacrosse captain is Maki, whom we’ve seen a few times. The new science club president is a girl named Nagai that I don’t remember ever seeing before, certainly not by name.

Both of our protagonists are sad that they’re not in the clubs anymore (side note: why are they passing the baton before the end of the school year?) and reflect on the good times they had over the last year. Maki is having a bit of a hard time connecting with the team, so Nagisa gives her a bit of a pep talk encouraging her to do things her own way rather than trying to emulate Nagisa, and maybe be a little more gentle with them, and this perks her up. Yuriko, Shiho, and Rina are all acting a little strange towards Nagisa and Honoka, inviting them to the school the next day (during winter break) at 3:00 without saying why, and even Akane and Hikari are in on this super secret plan. However, when Hikari goes to check the refrigerator to make sure they have enough supplies for.... whatever they’re making, she sees the Dusk Zone. In the Dark Mansion, Hikaru is looking out the window when suddenly his view changes to the Garden of Light.

Baldez has already stated that his is a game of mutual influence and growth.... followed by darkness consuming everything. Is this part of his plan? Hard to say. However, nothing further comes from this strange vision of the worlds of light and darkness right now.

At school the next day, Nagisa and Honoka show up to a surprise party! The lacrosse and science clubs have teamed up to thank their captains for the past year of service, bequeathing them with bouquets, confetti, and even food provided by Akane and Hikari in the form of a giant cake and, of course, takoyaki. Yuriko wants to get a picture of it before they dig in, but she starts to pass out.... and so does everybody else.

Yes, it’s Zakenna time. Viblis has conjured up a big one this time, made from classroom equipment like rulers and a chalkboard. It even fires chalk as missiles. The warriors of light rush outside to face it, and they hit it with their usual barrage of punches and spinning kicks. I’m kind of regretting not analyzing the fights more thoroughly throughout this project but, too little too late. The animation is set up that they seem to be moving kind of slowly and it’s.... weird. There’s a point where Shiny Luminous gets blown away from the other girls and she falls for what feels like an eternity. Viblis confronts her and thinks this might be her chance to finally destroy her (apparently not having learned a lesson from episode 40) so she gets ready to blast her, but this causes Hikaru over in the mansion to react again, the dark power swirling around him and arising between Luminous and Viblis, knocking them both back. (While the attack is indiscriminate, it makes you wonder if Hikaru is more benevolent than the dark forces want him to be.) Luminous recovers herself and then Lulun activates the shield of light defense that knocks back the Zakenna charging at her.

Black and White take this chance to summon the Rainbow Braces and finish it off with Marble Screw Max Spark. Viblis jumps in and tries to block it but, once again, she is unsuccessful. I’m not sure why they keep trying honestly. As the dust clears, the girls realize they need to get back to the classroom before everyone wakes up.

The celebration resumes and the clubs once again thank Nagisa and Honoka profusely for all their hard work and leadership over the last year. They walk down a hallway with their club members lining both sides and Yuriko at the end, ready to take a picture. The pair poses but then everybody decides to jump into the picture at the last minute, and we get this.

buncha goofballs

After the party is over, the trio are at Akane’s and Lovelan states she’ll be returning to the Chairect now. They don’t even show the usual light show of her entering it so clearly they don’t care so much about advertising this toy anymore. However, before she went in, she said “A lot of things may happen from now on,” which unsettles the girls. Nagisa and Honoka don’t know about Hikari’s bond with the boy in the mansion, I’m not sure they really understand who he is, but they are starting to realize that collecting all the Heartiels and resurrecting the Queen may not be the end of their troubles, especially because they’re not sure what will happen to Hikari. Hikari herself starts to cry, but says she just felt tired for a moment.

Nagisa and Honoka reflect on the power of darkness that surged during their fight, saying it was different from anything they’ve felt before, and Hikari observes that something has begun to awake in the boy. They all look on nervously as the screen fades to white.

Succession is a big theme in this episode. Maki struggles with succeeding Nagisa, trying to emulate her coaching methods while putting her own spin on it. Nagisa faced the same trouble early in the season, unsure of how to be a good captain to her team, and she imparts her advice: be yourself, be friendly, and have fun with the team. Don’t try to be a leader so hard that you lose sight of why you play in the first place. She doesn’t say this outright, but this is similar to the situation in episode 39 at the lacrosse finals with the rival captain who drilled her team to perfection but had almost forgotten the sheer joy of playing. Maki was close to going down the same path with Verone’s team but she had the self-awareness to realize the team wasn’t responding well to her, especially when Nagisa stopped by to watch, and she asked for some advice.

I wish I could say we knew half as much about the politics of the Science Club succession but Max Heart has chosen to sideline Honoka’s club life in favor of Nagisa’s, to the point where I only know the names of two other members. One is Yuriko who carries over from the previous season, and the other, Nonomiya, hasn’t appeared since episode 9, except possibly in the background. If Nagai, the new Science Club president, has appeared at all this season or last, she was certainly not emphasized at all. I would have liked to get to see her a few times and watch her grow up to be able to inherit leadership of the club, like we saw with Maki. Sadly, we are not blessed with this opportunity and I highly doubt we’ll ever see her again, with only 4 episodes left in the series.

Hikari struggles with her own succession crisis of sorts: is she the successor to the Queen of Light? Is she the replacement? Will she disappear when all 12 Heartiels are collected? These are important questions, and Nagisa and Honoka have them on their minds as well. Hikari is their friend in a way that the Queen never was, and she has her own value and worth as a human being. They don’t want to lose her, and I wish they had explored the ramifications of this sooner. As my friend @sailor-rurouni pointed out, the girls have not been actively pursuing the Heartiels all season, they just show up, hang around for a few episodes to watch the girls embody whatever one of the Queen’s Wills they represent, and then enter the Chairect. The girls aren’t actively invested in finding the Heartiels, they don’t worry when it’s been a few episodes since one showed up, but neither do they reject them in favor of keeping Hikari around. If you’re going to have a macguffin quest, make it feel important. I would like the show a lot more if they would take a solid stance on the Heartiels and the Queen’s resurrection, rather than just letting the chips fall where they may and only now, when there’s just one Heartiel left to find, starting to wonder “Oh shit what’s going to happen to our friend that we’ve made over the last year once we do this? Is there a way to keep her around and resurrect the Queen at the same time? What does she feel about all of this? If she says yes is that only because she’s too nice to speak her own mind on the matter, because she feels like resurrecting a person that she has never met is more important than her own thoughts and feelings?” Having written all of that down, it kind of reminds me of Roxas from Kingdom Hearts, being a part of Sora and having to return to Sora’s heart to reawaken him so you can proceed on your quest. It’s a similar case of a derivative being having their own sentience and sapience, at risk of being lost to revive the original person. It’s an interesting ethical dilemma, and Max Heart has not explored it at all. At the risk of loosely spoiling things, we know Hikari is present for future crossovers, not that those are highly concerned with canon (especially given the absurd way some of the newer shows have ended.... like Dokidoki) so you sort of already know things are going to turn out okay, but the journey is as important as the destination, and the journey has really sucked in this area.

Also at issue is Hikari’s connection to Hikaru, how her growth affects him and what the cause of this growth and development is. Does Hikari get stronger and more defined the more Heartiels they collect, or is it a natural consequence of her existing for all these months? How does Baldez know her growth is connected to Hikaru and would he be able to grow if they defeated Hikari? Is his power, in counterpart to hers, simply a consequence of the need to balance light and darkness? If they were allowed to stay in the same space for longer than a few minutes, what would happen to both of them? The questions surrounding Hikaru’s growth really should have been addressed sooner, I feel.

All of that being said, I do like this episode. Watching the girls grow up, mature, pass on the leadership roles that we saw them first take at the start of this series, and reminisce about the experiences they had growing into their titles is enjoyable because I enjoy spending time with these characters, in their world. They’ve built a connection with the audience, we know by now that it’s almost time to say goodbye and they’re preparing for the next stage of their lives.

I don’t have much to say about the art or animation except, again, I found the fight choreography to be a bit slow and lacking in intensity. I don’t know if it’s a low framerate or what but movements that were meant to be fast and have a lot of impact felt more floaty. The scene at the very end, after the party, had a nice use of color and lighting.

Sunset scenes have that ability. Maybe it’s cheating but it does present that air of uncertainty about the future. Also, while we’re here, I want to give a shoutout to Hikari’s winter coat in the above picture. Akane has one too, but they’re these cool longcoats with pink fur lining and the Tako Cafe logo on the left breast. Longcoats are always cool and I like the notion that Akane’s stand has an official winter uniform. I think Hikari also has a winter blazer for her school uniform like Nagisa and Honoka are wearing, but we don’t see it in this episode. Maybe the next one.

There are four episodes left, can I finish this show by the end of the week? Find out next time on Precure Daily!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 Arienai

#Precure #Pretty Cure #Futari wa Precure Max Heart #FWPCMH43 #PCD094

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khalilhumam · 5 years ago

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The case for rethinking the politicization of the military

New Post has been published on http://khalilhumam.com/the-case-for-rethinking-the-politicization-of-the-military/

The case for rethinking the politicization of the military

By Jim Golby, Mara Karlin Every smart defense strategist learns early in their career the wise words of Carl von Clausewitz, “War is the continuation of politics by other means.” And yet, military leaders are constantly fearful that they will be labeled with that scarlet word, “political.” To some degree, this fear is well-founded; it is also profoundly problematic. The terms “political,” “apolitical,” and “politicization” are applied and misapplied across a wide range of issues, and understanding the military’s relationship to politics deserves serious reconsideration. Claiming that the military is, or should be, apolitical is both confusing and counterproductive. The military itself is, of course, an intensely political institution. Military leaders need to be able to engage on political issues with their troops and with the public, and they shouldn’t shy away from a topic simply for fear of being labeled “political.” Instead, they should actively tackle what it means to do so in an appropriate and responsible manner. In practice, that looks like retiring the military’s ambiguous “apolitical norm” and replacing it with new practical rules of thumb about what topics are off-limits for those in uniform. We don’t want a military that is “apolitical”; we instead want a military that avoids partisanship, institutional endorsements, and electoral influence. Those topics should stay off-limits, but politics are too critical to be entirely ignored by the military. The military is a political creature — it’s time for it to consider what that means in a more practical and appropriate manner.

The US military isn’t apolitical and it shouldn’t try to be

On June 6, New Jersey Congressman Tom Malinowski posted a picture of a young man at a rally in a Marine Corps uniform. The image shot around the internet, particularly among military accounts, garnering dramatically different responses. Some praised the Marine, asserting that he was standing up for human dignity, while others roundly criticized him for violating the military’s “apolitical” norm by protesting in the garb of the institution he ostensibly represents. Standing up for the values of the military is critical and the affirmation of the oath on the Marine’s sign — “I swore an oath to defend the people” — is not a political act in and of itself. Wearing his uniform while doing so at a rally, however, demonstrates the tension between holding up that apolitical mantle while maintaining one’s role as an engaged citizen. And according to the Defense Department’s instruction on political activities, it is not permitted to do so in uniform. But there is a bigger problem: whether or not his actions are political is simply the wrong question to ask.

The military is not apolitical. It never has been, and it should not try to be.

That’s because the military is not apolitical. It never has been, and it should not try to be. The military is an instrument of policy, and there are always tensions between our security and our values; politics is the process we use to choose between competing tradeoffs that can advance our values and our interests, or both. Use of that term “apolitical” not only makes it harder for military officers to fulfill their responsibilities and maintain the trust of the American people, but confuses service members and the public alike when they see military leaders saying or doing things that have clear political consequences.

The military’s political nature

Military actions always happen in a political context, and military advice — intentionally or not — always has political implications. A senior military leader can claim she is giving “apolitical” advice when she asks Congress to appropriate certain funds to the procurement of a given weapon system, but before deciding whether to grant her request, legislators have to consider whether doing so would come at a cost to other military or non-military programs, how it might help or hurt employment in their district, the potential environmental impacts of the program, or whether they might need to raise taxes to pay for the system, among a host of other factors. Officers can claim their advice is “apolitical,” but it is simply not true. As scholar Risa Brooks has argued, lip service to an apolitical norm also can blind officers to their own biases or hinder them from understanding the political implications of their actions or advice, ultimately enabling the types of behaviors the norm was intended to prevent. Similarly, fears of becoming a meme or political poster child also can cause military officers to refrain from talking about important issues in public or with their personnel. Their silence itself can sometimes be interpreted as a political message. Indeed, following the death of George Floyd, it took nearly a week before any of the service chiefs released statements to their service members about the killing or the unrest that had consumed the nation — although for at least a few of them, that silence was almost surely informed by heavy pressure from Secretary of Defense Esper to refrain from commenting on these issues at that moment. In fact, it wasn’t until after Kaleth O. Wright — in his own words “a black man who happens to be Chief Master Sergeant of the Air Force” — posted a powerful Twitter thread on June 1st that they did so. Since then, a flood of senior military officers have released statements and videos to their units, affirming the core values of the military, condemning racism, and promoting diversity and inclusion both in the military and in society — issues that, we hasten to add, should not be seen as political and instead rather as the ultimate comparative advantage of a capable U.S. military and society.

Better rules of thumb for political activity

Given the military’s inherent political nature, the Defense Department issued two regulations to try and outline parameters for individual service member involvement in political activities. The regulations, issued in 2005 and 2008 list dozens of both authorized and prohibited activities that, taken with several other relevant statutes and at least one executive order, apply in various contexts. Together, they prohibit members of the military from attending events like speeches, rallies, marches, debates, or any public demonstration while wearing their uniform, unless they receive approval by one of only a handful of generals or admirals listed in the document. This step is to ensure that individual military personnel do not give the appearance that the military institution supports the person, group, or cause at hand, while still allowing military personnel to represent their personal opinions as active and interested citizens. The regulations also mandate that members of the military must remain non-partisan and refrain from using their official position or authority to influence a campaign or election. If the “apolitical norm” is confusing, how can we expect service members or political leaders to make sense of what behavior is acceptable and what isn’t? And why should we be surprised when service members are confused about whether the Marine at the rally or their own senior leaders are engaging in political activity? Fortunately, the main provisions in these documents boil down to three rules of thumb, which we suggest can be communicated in one hokey acronym: avoid giving or taking a piece of the military’s PIE. In other words: avoid Partisan behavior; avoid Institutional endorsement; and avoid Electoral influence. First, avoiding partisan behavior seems straightforward, but it can be difficult in practice in a nation that is polarized along partisan lines. Still, those in uniform — and senior leaders, in particular — most avoid creating the impression they are aligned with a political party. They must be aware of their own biases and of the perceptions they may convey. Second, the military has been the nation’s most-admired institution for decades now, and everyone knows it. This fact creates strong incentives for individuals, groups, candidates, or causes to try to create the impression that the military supports them. Aligning themselves with those in uniform can seem an easy way to legitimize themselves or their goals or to shield them from opposition. But those in the military must avoid situations where their presence, especially in uniform, creates the impression that the military is granting its institutional endorsement. And third, those in uniform should not use their official position or authority to interfere in — or to try to influence — elections. Even in cases where party is not the central fault line in a campaign, it is dangerous for democracy when those in uniform try to position themselves as the arbiter of political legitimacy. This has happened in places like Egypt — with dangerous, authoritarian results. None of these rules of thumb keep service members from expressing their own political opinions or exercising their individual rights, but they should reshape how they exercise those rights and draw a boundary between their personal behavior and their professional behavior. As individual responsibility and rank increase, the lines between personal and professional may become harder — or impossible — to draw. Indeed, the more senior you become, the less you can ever truly speak for yourself and the more you have no choice but to speak for the institution. Political pressures on the military have always existed, and it is hard for service members, and their leaders, to avoid giving away a piece of the military’s PIE, when political leaders, candidates, and groups are always trying to take a piece of the military’s PIE. As a powerful instrument of statecraft, political leaders of both parties have tried to wield the military or use it to garner greater domestic support by wrapping themselves in the veil of military prestige. On June 1st, for example, President Trump asked Chairman of the Joint Chiefs General Mark Milley to join him in his combat uniform for a photo op on his walk across Lafayette Square to Saint John’s Church. In a powerful commencement speech to the National Defense University, Milley apologized for participating and stated, “I should not have been there.” Others may want the military to take political positions to harm their opponents or to weaken the commander-in-chief, such as when Sen. John McCain tried to pressure Gen. Martin Dempsey to state that President Barack Obama’s Syria policy was not in the national security interest of the United States during his 2013 re-confirmation hearing. Growing political polarization and increased confidence in the military has only exacerbated these pressures, but this temptation has existed since time immemorial. Nevertheless, its character in recent years has broadened and deepened. Under President Trump, the military has experienced heavy external political pressure, like the president signing a temporary travel ban on Muslim-majority countries inside the Pentagon’s Hall of Heroes; regaling troops at CENTCOM and SOCOM about how much political support he commanded in the election because of them; urging sailors to lobby members of Congress on the defense budget; and his granting of clemency to convicted war criminals and then bringing them onstage during a political fundraiser. The military has also experienced heavy internal political pressure, such as when service members decided to cover up the USS John McCain out of fear that the president would be perturbed to see a ship named after his nemesis or when troops brought red MAGA hats and a Trump campaign banner to his visit at Ramstein Air Base. Ideally, the secretary of defense and other senior civilian defense leaders should do their utmost to minimize these pressures on the military. It is incumbent on them to insulate the military from politicization to the extent possible. Likewise, senior military leaders should acknowledge to their troops that these pressures exist in the national security ecosystem. The challenge for them to consider is how and in what ways they can foment a command climate that does so in a professional and appropriate manner. Military officers, at all levels, need to be more comfortable talking about politics the right way instead of avoiding the topic altogether.

Military officers, at all levels, need to be more comfortable talking about politics the right way instead of avoiding the topic altogether.

What military leaders can — and should — do now

Rather than let Clausewitz spin in his grave, military leaders at varying levels can take three key steps to help educate their troops and alleviate concerns of partisanship across the ranks, particularly at this delicate moment. First, they should reaffirm their commitment to avoid giving anyone a piece of the military’s PIE: avoid partisanship; avoid institutional endorsement; and avoid elections. This acronym is admittedly hokey, but it needs to be memorable to supplant use of the ubiquitous and ultimately confusing “apolitical norm.” Focusing on these three elements will result in a richer discussion and clearer rules of thumb for troops and the public than simply tossing about glib warnings on politicization. And using them will help military leaders — and the troops they lead — draw clearer lines around inappropriate behavior. Second, they should acknowledge that although the military is inherently political as a tool of statecraft, the use of the military as a symbol to legitimize political decisions can have harmful effects on the public’s trust in the military and in the military’s ability to provide expert advice. By reminding themselves and their subordinates that the military’s high domestic support can plummet — with catastrophic consequences — service members may internalize why a cautious approach is the right one. Third, they should not become too cautious, avoiding all talk of these hard issues out of fear of stumbling or saying the wrong thing. Instead, they should foster critical conversations on topics like the perniciousness of political activity on social media, in line with Heidi Urben’s scholarship which finds that it is common for active-duty members of the military to make highly inappropriate statements on social media — even directed against elected leaders. They should debate thorny case studies in professional military education programs and senior leader sessions, such as partisan endorsements, what appears to be increased wariness on exercising the right to vote among military leaders, and both positive and negative examples of stepping over what often feels like an invisible line. Our efforts to further refine and develop the notion of politicization in the military represent a step forward in an urgent conversation. The military is far too important in American society for it to be apolitical.

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ask-jaghatai-khan · 8 years ago

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The Path Beyond

(Homebrew warband I came up with when fluffing an all-investment-in-psychic Tzeentch Daemonkin army, and what kind of servants would likely be the summoning core. I also used it as an opportunity to distill some of my favorite “dark wizard” references.)

“The Warp flows through us, for we walk upon the Path!”

History

In the days of the Great Crusade, after the Triumph of Ullanor, the propagation of warrior lodges crept through the ranks of the Legiones Astartes. Secret societies, separate from the titles of legion or rank, appeared amongst the space marines. Most prevalent in those legions who would later turn from the Emperor’s light, the practice was looked down upon by many, and laid the foundation for the later Horus Heresy.

It was by the actions of Chaplain Mori Shi, of the Word Bearers legion, that the lodge known as the “Lodge of the Beyond” would form. Of Terran birth, Mori Shi served within the Ark of Testimony chapter, and at the behest of Chapter Master Torquill Eliphas set about uncovering those pieces of most ancient lore that might give the (now secretly deviant) seventeenth legion insight into the nature of their new gods. It was upon Terra itself, buried in ancient ruins within the irradiated wastes, that he discovered a set of bronze scrolls. In but a few more centuries those lands would have been crushed under the expanding Imperial City, and their dark secrets lost forever.

The scrolls were translated by the scholars of the Word Bearers as the “Path of Ur-Apam”. Contained within was a set of intricate edicts, rituals, and treatises on the nature of the Warp. Realizing the value of such ancient writings, Mori Shi presented the scrolls to close confidents of his amongst several legions—most of all the Thousand Sons, as the sorceries inscribed within were of great power and craftsmanship. The newly forged Lodge of the Beyond would attract psykers from several legions; prominently those of the Thousand Sons, Word Bearers, Sons of Horus, and Alpha Legion, though even elements of the Emperor’s Children, Iron Warriors, Death Guard, Iron Hands, Raven Guard, and White Scars were present. The Path of Ur-Apam was not merely a collection of powerful magics, but a spiritual guide on seeking perfection through the power of the Warp.

The psykers who had gathered within the lodge soon became preeminent in their legions, though the secret society was not to last in its current form. After the massacre on Isstvan, those astartes of the Iron Hands and Raven Guard were enraged at the betrayal, and had to be put down. The last of the “loyalists”, the White Scars elements, later left of their own accord to be either slain by their former brothers, or take up the mantle of Sagyar Mazan. Those few members of the Death Guard, who had sought acceptance away from the sight of Mortarion, were later claimed by Nurgle, and so lost upon the Path of evolution.

All that remained were the traitors, who—with the failure of the Siege of Terra—fled to the Eye of Terror. It was then, as the traitor legions pulled themselves apart, that the Thousand Sons made their move. As psychic mastery was considered the greatest power of all, and the only true measure of worth, the sons of Magnus sought to purge the gene-seed of the lesser legions from their ranks. They turned the might of their sorceries upon their former allies, obliterating them and scavenging what was left. Mori Shi, of power enough to match even an Exalted Sorcerer, attempted to fight back, but the powers of the Warp clearly favored the Sons, and he was consumed from within by daemons. With this victory, the warband of The Path Beyond rejoined their legion, and fled to Sortiarius.

Now within the realm of Tzeentch, the members of the Path had power beyond comprehension at their hands. Joining their minds, they enacted the greatest sorcery left un-attempted within the scrolls: the summoning of Apam’ra, a daemon prince of incalculable power. Revealing himself, Apam’ra was finally able to guide his new congregation down the true path of enlightenment. It was by his word that the Path assembled itself into the form it holds today. Seeing such opportunities in the realm of Chaos magic, the warband split off from the guidance of Magnus, and were later chased from Sortiarius by their brothers for their increasingly irreverent and maniacal behavior. This was a heavy blow, as set adrift on a nomad fleet the band was beset upon by raiders of the other traitor legions—those whom they had purged and betrayed. With few allies and no home, the warband would regain its power under the military guidance of Exalted Arch-Sorcerer Ukustra, and undertake a journey of the galaxy bourn on Warp-fire and deep madness, allying with numerous parties from the Prodigal Sons to the Black Legion. When Magnus called back his progeny for the chance at revenge against Fenris, the Path Beyond answered, for redemption and a chance to display their wisdom and psychic strength to their gene-father. Now, they are a thrallband of the Thousand Sons, and seek to show enemy and ally alike the true power of the Warp.

Beliefs

The Path Beyond are named for the philosophy they follow, also known as the Path of Ur-Apam, after its creator: Apam’ra. The Path outlines a belief system centered around the power of the Warp, and embracing Chaos to ascend to daemonhood and gain mastery over all things. As such, psychic power and knowledge on matters of sorcerery are held above all things within the ranks of the Path, with the ways of flesh and steel being matters of necessity at best, or chains of imperfect binding at worst. Daemons are viewed as the ultimate beings of creation, with even minor Warp-spawn being looked upon as more favorable allies than some of the thrallband’s mortal slaves. The thrallband therefor views Tzeentch as the greatest being in existence, and worthy of total devotion for his mastery of the magical arts. Apam’ra, though the creator of the Path, is viewed as a guide, while Tzeentch is the end of the journey itself.

Despite their love of Warp energy, members of the Path do not embrace it in an entirely wanton way. To master the energies of creation, with the end goal of infusing one’s spirit into their very currents, one must first master themselves. Mutations are cultivated carefully, and those who have fallen to their own ambitions are stepped over—for one who is destroyed by that which they seek to master is no master at all. Though for their usual Chaotic back-stabbing tendencies, the Path has managed to establish a warband far more stable than many others. It is believed that those of greater psychic ability should be followed without question, and it is likewise the duty of those in charge to lead their followers to greater power. Disciples are forever wary of signs of weakness in their leaders, and masters are encouraged to maintain dominance with grand displays of mastery, and an intricate web of schemes to monitor their pupils, so that they may remain respected. If a master suffers a failure greater than can be allowed, or loses control of his own ambitions, then he is very quickly and silently deposed and replaced by the next most powerful, minimizing infighting.

While Tzeentch is viewed as the greatest being in existence, and therefor deserving of the mentioned loyal subservience, the God of Change is only worshiped for his ability. Though undoubtedly a Tzeentchian warband, the Path Beyond also pays tribute to Slaanesh, Apam’ra, and Magnus as gods of great power, and to the very force of Chaos itself. Due to the disparate nature of their worship, the mix of the chaotic and orderly within their operation, and their constant embrace of and exposure to the daemonic, sorcerers of the Path are seen as mad and unpredictable by their peers. To be unquestionably loyal for years, only to jump at a new opportunity and cause great collateral, along with a demeanor that swings between wise and diplomatic to superior and destructive, had caused many other Thousand Sons thrallbands to view the Path Beyond as a rogue element that should not be trusted, however powerful. The Path does not care, as they know their position as the (in their mind) most powerful summoners, scholars, and psykers is established, and they have only ever acted according to the edicts of Apam’ra.

Notable Members

The Oracle — “I hear that which screams in the night. I see what waits in the shadows.” — Lord of Navigation & Conductor of the Choir, Will of the Gods. The Oracle, who bears no personal name upon ascension, is the de-facto leader of the Path. They head the Circle—the high council that convenes on governance of the band—and act as first and final authority. The Oracle is a hideously mutated thing, with twisted armor concealing even more twisted and nebulous flesh. Their head sweeps up into two great prongs that sing with the resonance of the Immaterium, and are inset with multiple eyes that see beyond, even as their face holds naught but a mouth pouring with innumerable prophecies. The Oracle acts as the pathway through which various daemon princes, greater daemons, and even the gods themselves might give orders and strike bargains with the Path. These are then considered by the greater Circle. Each Oracle is selected by the previous one, and when the prospect is ready the two enter the Well of the Irradial Cogitator, in which only the Oracle is allowed. The new Oracle will step forth alone, different but already heavily mutated. It is believed that the process of succession involves the merging of two souls, as each Oracle has all the memories and skills of the previous one. Due to the great mutative strain, the Oracle is always an astartes.

Exalted Arch-Sorcerer Ukustra — “Now, you will pay the price for your lack of vision!” — Lord of the Exalted Captains, Magister of the War-Coven. In the years after the Ocularis Retribution, the position of Arch-Sorcerer changed hands between many powerful battle-psykers, only for each one to be deposed or overwhelmed by their own ambitions. It was during the years of stability around the First Black Crusade that Ukustra would come to power. A reserved and unassuming sorcerer, little was known of his past before the Heresy, save that he had been a younger legionary. Now, over a millennium later, he had deigned to take up the mantle of Arch-Sorcerer. Ukustra is phlegmatic, demanding total obedience from his followers, and rarely showing any emotion even when spewing forth incalculable amounts of Warp-magic. As Arch-Sorcerer, his duties center around direction of the most elite of the thrallband’s psykers. Some members of the circle have looked upon his position with some derision, seeing him as little more than a walking weapon. In truth, Ukustra is at the center of a web of daemonic and material alliances through which he might enact any strategy he sees fit. He is versed in the powers of deception and might, and has outlasted many of his peers. He also holds a great hatred for the Space Wolves, Death Guard, and Eldar, all for the hidden secrets of their sorceries that he wishes to bring into Tzeentch’s domain. In the past, several Arch-Sorcerers have been mere mortals, but as Ukustra has held the seat for over nine-thousand years, the point is moot.

High Dark Apostle Dracus Los — “If you only knew the power that is CHAOS!” — Master of the Thralls, Voice of Corruption. A position adapted from their former Word Bearers allies, the High Dark Apostle is chief religious officer, and charged with organizing the mobs of acolytes, Tzaangors, and slaves that form the greater backbone of the Path’s auxiliary forces. Additionally, he is the herald of the warband, his magically-enhanced oratory skills inciting defectors and inspiring his allies. In times of “peace” the Apostle is the diplomatic face of the warband to other Chaos forces. Dracus Los has held the position for a relatively short time, but his boundless charisma has earned him great esteem. He is blessed with a visage that is glorious and terrible to look upon, as much beautiful as daemonic. A natural leader, Los will heap great praise and awards upon those who please him, while swiftly purging all those who divert from the true path. The position of High Apostle is often held by an astartes, due to the great danger inherent in the position, and the respect a space marine earns over mortals when confronting rival warbands.

Arch-Heretek Cal-Urgus — “This won’t hurt; we just want to drain your living essence!” — Master of Forms, Dark Fleshshaper. The thrallband’s chief engineer, material scientist, and contact line to the Dark Mechanicus. The Arch-Heretek is viewed with suspicion and resignation, as while the Path teaches the value of the Warp above the base flesh and steel, the hereteks’ support is necessary and invaluable. Bio-enhancement of warriors can serve to expand the mind and hone reflexes; vehicles may be inscribed with runes and bound with daemons; and—perhaps most importantly—the unique medical needs of the astartes sorcerers and high psykers can be managed. The Arch-Heretek may also be called upon to lead the binding of daemon engines—a dark rite that is viewed as a punishment for the daemon in question. As the Arch-Heretek is selected by their own contemporaries, they are always a mad cyborg. Cal-Urgus is but the latest madman in a line of insane scientists stretching back millennia.

The Spymaster Nahash — “Perversio dominatus.” — Master of Serpents, The Long Hand. The Spymaster’s title says all that needs to be said. Due to operating on the word of the Oracle, the Path likes to seed target worlds with cults and sedition before making their move. Due to the small size of the warband, and their reliance on massed rituals for daemonic reinforcements, the Spymaster gives the band the time and information they need. The spymaster also helps gain intelligence on rival Chaos forces, rumors, and intel about other happenings of interest. Nahash is an unsettling creature, appearing completely normal at a table of twisted monsters, though behind his eyes flicker the flames of a telepath, summoner, and webspinner of terrible acuity. Though the first Spymasters of the Path were astartes of the Alpha Legion, modern holders of the chair tend to be unassuming mortals.

Lord High Magister Reah Qasr — “I’m bored. What plaything can you offer me today?” — Logistician-Prefectus, Webweaver. The head of logistics and the management of all crew on the Path’s small warfleet. The Magister is the mathematical backbone of the thrallband, collating each individual daemonic pact in the way a Munitorum adept might collate shipments of ammo. While many underlings view the battle-psykers with awe, and the hereteks and spymasters with fear, it is the Magister who holds the massive and horrible lore that is knowledge of supply and demand. Reah Qasr was once a megalomaniacal Rogue Trader who defected to the Path at the opportunity for the raw power she so desired, and freedom for her restrained psychic abilities. Her vanity gives her an appearance to rival her astartes peers, with opulent cloaks of runic silk and colorful feathers, intricate augmetics, and flesh decorated with scarification and tattoos meant to burn the eyes of any lesser beings who dare look upon her face. The position of High Magister is always held by some manner of crafty mortal.

Apammabzkalahothengenistora — “I know the Path, I am the Path. I was, I am, and I shall be.” — Otherwise known as Apam’ra the Augur, author of the Scrolls of Ur-Apam and true guide upon the Path Beyond. Apam’ra is a daemon prince of time immemorial who has aligned itself with Tzeentch. The Augur is not just a powerful psyker, but a scholar and philosopher of impossible sharpness, who has brought armies to heel with guile and words as much as spells. Apam’ra most often takes the form of a massive cloaked figure, with great wings, and many tendrils of magic that emerge from its shadowy regalia. Four clawed armed enact intricate sorceries, while a hidden head is adorned with an elaborate dress of tentacles, feathers, and horns. Its power is said to be on par with the mightiest Lords of Change. The Augur seeks to grow its power through the devotion of its powerful flock. The most maddening prophecies of the Oracle hint that Apam’ra may seek to merge with Tzeentch, destroying the Materium and bringing all things within the blinding power of Chaos.

Chaplain Mori Shi — “But better than the lies of the Imperium is the secret lore of the Warp.” — Future Dark Apostle and Diabolist, Chaplain Mori Shi of the Word Bearers’ Ark of Testimony chapter was the founder of the Lodge Beyond, and first spiritual guide on the Path. His destruction would come about at his own hands, however, when his own pupils turned against him for his inferior gene-seed, and he was destroyed by the daemons he had already lost the favor of.

Exalted Sorcerer Anuvram — “Such sights are shown to me!” — A diviner of the Prosperine Corvidae Cult, Anuvram was also known as the Gate of Logic, a nickname earned from his time seconded to the Iron Warriors. Anuvram was of a reserved temperament, but razor-keen mind, with as much insight into machines and the mechanical sciences as sorcery. After the death of Mori Shi, and before the summoning of Apam’ra, Anuvram took on the mantle of the first Oracle. His mind was opened to the depths of the Warp, and his soul walked with daemons, becoming as familiar with them as he was with his own brothers. It was under Anuvram’s guidance that the Irradial Cogitator was built, the tradition of the Oracle was started, and the Path started on its way to power and glory.

Exalted Sorcerer Tiamaz — “Only now, at the end, do you understand…” — A great warrior of the Pyrae Cult, Tiamaz took on a flair for perfectionism after his time with the Emperor’s Children. He also earned the moniker of “The Faceless”, for his habit of never removing his elaborate helm. Tiamaz became first Arch-Sorcerer of the Path, and their face upon the battlefield. He went missing during the Ocularis Retribution—that time after their exile from Sortiarius, when the legions had sought revenge for the Path’s purge of the lodge. He was presumed slain, though his armor and gene-seed were never recovered.

Order of Battle

As the Path Beyond is a very small thrallband, focused on tight operating procedures and elite psychic ability, much of the Path’s “forces” are its allied daemons. Though capable of rapid defence through its combat psykers, the warband much prefers to be on the offensive, planning its invasions sometimes hundreds of years in advance, working its tendrils into the very society of the worlds it wishes to invade. When the word is given, rebellions will arise, rituals will be enacted, and the legions of the Warp will spew forward like a corrupting wave into realspace. Motives for attack tend to be either the desire for resources, slaves, and potential recruits; or as part of an agreement with a powerful daemon. By ripping the veil asunder, the greater daemon or prince who contacted the Oracle will be free to enact whatever dark plan they wish.

Psychic talent and sheer acuity are of tantamount importance in the thrallband, and all leaders must be gifted magicians. Even a Tzaangor Shaman or mutant coven-leader will be afforded greater respect than a non-psychic astartes of another warband. Sorcerers of all divisions will keep with them a close cadre of followers, who mutually feed off each other’s power as a form of amplification. In addition, the warband keeps a steadily replenished contingent of acolytes and thrall-psykers, who may be sacrificed during advanced rituals. Due to the insane nature of their beliefs, many Path Beyond sorcerers will have better allegiances with daemons than other mortals, helped along by the many daemon princes allied with or originating from the Path. Their devotion to the Warp is seen as unhealthy even by other sorcerer-thrallbands, and their use of subversion and spies as further dangers to cooperation.

Appearance

The Path Beyond wears the blue and gold of Tzeentch, with violet accents, but such is their sigaldrous power that their leaders are as daemons of deathly enlightenment. The blue panels of their armor are glossy and swim with the currents of the Warp, while runes inset into elegant filigree glow with magical power. Eyes, banners, and the like glow with technicolor flame. Even lesser sorcerers will festoon themselves with parchments copied from ancient tomes, and trinkets and talismans crafted of everything from gems and silk, to bone and mortal hide. Flesh will be inscribed with scars and tattoos, and pierced with jewelry containing yet more enchantments. Most subdued of their raiment are the black robes they wear, inscribed with near-invisible runes of protection and shadow. A popular tactic of Path sorcerers is to enshroud themselves in their dark and unassuming robes until within close range, at which point they will fling open their capes to reveal the swirling and multicolored flame-sigils and seals that burn the minds of enemies and enhance the powers of the wearer. Daemons, when coalescing their forms upon summoning, will even adopt the heraldry of the thrallband, as a sign of the unbelievable solidarity their psykers foster with the warp-spawn. Their symbol is an inward-spiraling Ouroboros, surrounded by the points of the Star of Chaos.

Notable Battles

The Ocularis Retribution (M31) — Enacted shortly after the Great Scouring and the Path’s exile from Sortiarius; adrift and vulnerable, the warband is attacked by splinter forces of the Iron Warriors, Emperor’s Children, Word Bearers, and Alpha Legion in retribution for their purge at the end of the Horus Heresy. The Path manages to survive by wits and sorcery, but loses near all of its already pitiful supply of Rubricae, many thralls, and Arch-Sorcerer Tiamaz, as well as sustaining heavy damage to its infrastructure. This would first spur the Orcale into the formation of the Circle, basing future operating strategies around a small, elite fighting force.

First Black Crusade (781.M31) — With temporary stability brought to the forces of Chaos by the actions of Abaddon the Despoiler, new Warmaster of Chaos Undivided, the sorcerer known as Ukustra usurps the position of Exalted Arch-Sorcerer—using the body of his mentor, the former Arch-Sorcerer, as a daemonhost for Apam’ra. Ukustra pushes for the support of the Oracle, and pillages many Imperial worlds of artifacts over the course of the Crusade.

The Damnatius Collapse (999.M35) — A centuries-long gambit pays off on the hive-world of Aqunda. The completion of the planetary governor’s palace inadvertently activates a Chaos sigil formed via the lay-lines between the tallest hive spires, the work of the Path’s Spymaster. Warp portals open above the world, summoning the Path Beyond and hordes of daemons. The world falls within a day.

The Prize of Firinne (M37) — The Path allies itself with the Prodigal Sons and sorcerer-champion Ahriman. Warp storms descend on the planet of Firinne and a three-way battle ensues between the forces of the Imperium, Eldar, and Chaos. The Tzeentchian faction emerges victorious, with Ahriman finding a fragment of the Map of Ceo’dainn, while the Path Beyond sacrifices a trove of spirit-stones to Slaanesh. Exalted Ukustra would remark on Ahriman: “He is like Magnus—a true follower of the Path, even as his mind is misguided.”, while Ahriman would refer to Ukustra as “A mad fanatic, who can barely master his own power.” Regardless of differences, the two forces have worked in tandem since then, as exemplars of Tzeentch’s will and might.

Siege of Fenris (999.M41) — After long millennia of wandering, the Path Beyond answers the call of Magnus to seek vengeance on the Space Wolves. Returning at the promise of spoils and glory, the Path seek to demonstrate its might, exchange knowledge with its lost brothers, and gain access to the riches and power of Sortiarius. The Path Beyond is refashioned into a thrallband of the Thousand Sons—an arbitrary distinction, but one that allows it opportunity to work more closely with powerful sorcerers such as the Primarch. During the siege, the Path moves behind the action and enacts multiple rituals that summon innumerable waves of daemonic forces.

#homebrew #tzeentch #chaos #daemon #daemonkin #psyker #thousand sons #path beyond

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death-dealer-decay-archive · 8 years ago

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COC Profile: Bray

Rosemary’s eyes are fascinated as she stares deep into the smooth surface of her crystal ball. Slowly, specks of light emerging from the grey fog as if unwilling, a picture forms of Bray Wyatt. She glances around warily and begins to speak.

“The one known as Bray Wyatt and the Guiding Light was born three decades ago in Lafayette, Louisiana. His mother died giving birth to him, leaving him to be raised by Caleb Wyatt, a hard, cruel man, an alcoholic with a gambling problem. Caleb was ever bitter toward his family- his string of girlfriends who would each leave because of the abuse, the son he never wanted but had to raise, and anyone else foolish enough to come close to him. As a child, Bray was of use to him only as a pair of hands, and he missed out on school constantly because his father would force him to work on the shrimp boat instead.

“After years of abuse and neglect, living with the constant rage and pain of his father and what tiny moments of comfort he could get with his younger brother, Bray finally lashed out in revenge when he was but eleven. His father beat him so cruelly he thought he would die, and then drank himself to sleep on his boat. Once he could stand without his blood screaming for mercy, Bray half-stumbled, half-crawled to their spare boat, took a can of gasoline and a box of matches and did what he must. And when he made it back to shore and watched the flames devouring his curse, such was the joy that consumed him that he thought he have died and gone to Heaven.

“But dead he was not. Instead, he soon realised that he would be hunted for murder. He fled his home, trusting no one, and took to the streets. And it was there that-”

“Ahem.”

Rosemary spins around, eyebrows rising when she sees the interloper: Abigail stands behind her, Gale held firmly in her arms.

“Greetings, maiden,” Rosemary comments. “We thought you might return.”

“Not for you,” Abigail says. “For my son.”

Rosemary nods. “You object to our comments?”

“I object to their inaccuracy.”

“Then help us,” Rosemary says, smiling. “Tell us when we go wrong.”

Abigail sniffs, but she says nothing. Rosemary nods in return, and continues her speech.

“It was there that he found the maiden and mother, the one he calls sister. She sought the abandoned, the forsaken, the ones cast out by the cruel, and took them in to make their own family, one that would cherish and love those who nobody else would. She raised him, taught him, sent him out into the world with a mission. She passed on her creed to him, gave him the mantle of leader and the cause she breathed for. And so after her death, he went to achieve the dream he had harboured since he was a child- to wrestle. He held championships while he preached the word, told millions about his saviour while he destroyed any who spoke against him. It was his paradise and his solace.

“But his course has not been smooth. The Family took in newcomers, but twice it harboured traitors, one of whom did his best to destroy them from the inside. He bore two children, one of whom would later render the other unto ashes, alongside her mother.”

Abigail’s lips purse as she looks down at Gale, whose innocent face bears no knowledge of his fate. “She’s a good child. She didn’t know what she was doing.”

“Ah, if only any of us could believe it,” Rosemary replies. “He has dealt with insubordination in his ranks, has questioned himself, and yet he still grips the reins. And while part of him wishes to gain more belts and climb those unclimbed mountains, another part wishes to be done with it all.

“So, what kind of man is he? He is one who has suffered since he was born. Hardly a day has gone by when he has not felt pain, and so long have his wounds held him down that if the hurting was to cease, he would not know what to do. And yet he struggles on despite that. He refuses to slip on the blood that pours from his wounds. He holds the Family together with broken hands, and bears the weight of their anguish on his flayed shoulders.”

“He is so much stronger than he thinks,” Abigail adds. “I chose him for a good reason, and he shows me everyday how right I was. But he needs to let his suffering fuel him, instead of becoming his chains.”

Rosemary nods. “He despises society, for every day he sees past its glittering exterior to the filthy underbelly, and wishes to bring it down as the maiden demanded. He adores children, and tries to care for them as he was never cared for until he found his saviour. He is one who loves from the bottom of his heart. He would gladly kill for those he loves, would drive the knife in and laugh at the screams. He forgave his child for the loss of her brother, the enforcer for standing against him, and he forgives the sorceress for every strike she inflicts upon him.

“But he is also cruel. He took the resentment ingrained in his bones and carved it into his weapon, the knife he keeps in his heart so that no one can take it from him. He drives that knife into anyone he opposes, and feels no remorse even for the most bitter of acts. It is this cruelty that is both his strength and his enemy, for when his anger is roused, he will lash out with reckless abandon, even when he hurts the ones he loves. But he enjoys the feeling of striking out, of being the one who hurts, not the one harmed.”

“He is my son,” Abigail concludes, her eyes firm. “And no matter what happens, I love him and I will always love him, from now until the end of time.”

#C: [Bray]#profiles #tw: child abuse #tw: child death

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