#but every thing i do with good intentions she twists and deforms

[violentdevotion]

my mum out of nowhere threatened to check my bank account bc 'girls your age are saving money for their wedding' 😃 let's be so serious right now

[rosicae]

Writing tip or something - planning scenes

Writing difficult scenes is always a struggle. Here are some tips to make the process a little easier, and more importantly, actually get something done instead of staring at a blank page for two months (guilty).

First, let's start where you left off. Maybe they're exploring the dark woods trying to find their lost cat and they come across a beast. Great! Battle scene time.

The first thing you need to ask yourself is what you'll get out of this battle. The main points, or plot-twists, if there are any. For example: Maybe the cat turned into the beast and they only realise as it lies dying; maybe one of the main characters die; maybe they find a key in the beast's skull; maybe they spare the beast and it becomes their friend; maybe the beast just dies and that's it. I'm not judging, there's a plethora of reasons you'd do anything in stories. Most scenes should have some sort of lead, whether it be key or death or kiss or whatever, depending on what sort of story you're cooking, but it's up to you.

So, figure out your main point. For simplicity's sake, I'll go with: “They kill the beast, they find a key”. Finding the key will be a clear lead to their next move. But for now, let's focus on the current scene.

You're going to want to order the events. Writing scenes like this off the bat can be pretty hard, so let's just go with what we know first.

I'm not joking when I say a lot of my scenes start out sort of like this.

Now, to build upon this beauty, we have to dig into each segment. Let's start with part A!

PART A - “Rosi encounters a beast.”

What sort of beast is it? A slimy tentacle monster? A catfish-pirate? A deformed bear? Dracula?? Your decision will affect the entire scene, so really think about what you choose. Monsters are super fun, so be creative if your story allows it! I'll pick a duck-faced bear spider hybrid. What does that do? It might help to draw your monster if it's a struggle to think it through. Here's mine!

As you think about their appearance, see how you can use it to their advantage or flaw. You might even already have ideas for certain moves during their fight, or what could be the fatal blow. We'll talk more on that later though.

Next on Part A, how did she encounter it? Was she up in the trees trying to check the sun's direction when suddenly it barreled into her and threw her down the tree? Did she trip over a log only to realise it wasn't a log but an angry treant? Is the forest cursed and monsters just keep chasing after her for no reason??? Maybe she's holding a tracker and the evil villain is sending the monsters after her.... it's good to think about, in the long run. For now though, let's just stick with: "she bumped into the beast"

But try to make it fancy. What was her reaction to bumping into it? Why would she bump into it? Maybe she wasn't looking while she was running and kept bumping into trees, but then one tree was actually the monster. The monster is clearly very fluffy (would probably make a good blanket), so let's make that a clear point.

So now we've got:

“Rosi was running along the forest without properly watching where she was going, when she bumped into a tree - but it was fluffy and warm and beating, not a tree. It was a bear duck spider beast. OOOO! SLAP SLAP!”

Slap slap being “the beast slapped her in her confused daze”, because who wouldn't be surprised if a tree was actually a duck-bear hybrid? This happens to be a perfect initiation to begin battling! On to part B!

PART B - “She fights the beast and kills it.”

This is absolutely the hardest part. It'll take careful consideration and pacing and- oh whatever let's just slap in every action thing we can think of. Even if you think it isn't good, even if it's just little phrases or actions or fancy words or teeny tiny segments you aren't sure about, it's good. Just do it.

-beast slaps her in her confusion/daze and she hits her back against a tree, much pain

-beast snaps its flappy duck beak and honks a bunch, muddling her brain

-rosi throws rocks at it

-rosi somehow breaks off its spider legs, unbalancing it

-beast uses its spider legs to crawl everywhere and be very agile and hard to fend off

-beast stabs her with its stabby legs

-maybe an injury from being slapped around

-rosi tries to run but it's always there

-rosi smacks its beak, very annoyed

-beast forces her to the dirt and pummels her with its stabby paws

-rosi evades its stabbies because the green drippy stuff looks like venom

-venom touches nature stuff and makes it wither

-beast lets out a bellow that shakes the earth and topples trees

-rosi avoids the trees to not die

-rosi scrambles to get up

-the most important thing is to somehow open its skull: plunge a verrryyy strong stick through its eye that tears out the key; or somehow trick it to stab itself with its venom spider legs and it withers and turns to bone/ashes and yay key (I like the second one so I'll go with that, but it's always good to list out your options!)

So I basically just took parts of the forest and parts of the beast's body and natural instincts of someone who is facing death and, adding some creativity, threw together a bunch of possibilites. It might take some practice, but once you're in the flow and have some experience listing this stuff, you'll get the hang of it in no time. Thoughts tend to be short and snappy in quick-paced scenes, so be careful not to go into a whole monologue about their past experiences, but absolutely show some reasoning to the complex things they do if necessary. And leave the monologing for when they're not being killed.

Now let's order them into something that sort of makes sense. It varies depending on what you want, so see if you can make your own unique battle scene out of this list!

-beast slaps her in her confusion/daze and she hits her back against a tree, much pain

-rosi scrambles to get up

-maybe an injury from being slapped around (tree + back + sudden slap = pain, this might be a good time to mention if they already have a flaw like having weak bones or an old injury, but if it isn't your intention to incapacitate them and you want to be realistic, have a reason for them not to insta-die without being op. Maybe she was just slapped into bushes and got little scrapes or a twisted ankle. Maybe she had a plushy backpack that took most of the impact. Remember where your character gets injured too, since pain usually hurts for a while and it's good to add that in wherever needed now and later. It can even drive the story along at times, like a life-threatening blow.)

-beast lets out a bellow that shakes the earth and topples trees

-rosi avoids the trees to not die

-rosi tries to run but it's always there

-beast uses its spider legs to crawl everywhere and be very agile and hard to fend off

-venom touches nature stuff and makes it wither (she notices here and thinks oh no, that is bad, can't let that touch me)

-rosi throws rocks at it (misses because it's agile)

-beast forces her to the dirt and pummels her with its stabby paws

-beast snaps its flappy duck beak and honks a bunch, muddling her brain

-rosi smacks its beak, very annoyed

-beast stabs her with its stabby legs (or tries, let's not kill her just yet if we're deciding on venom QwQ Maybe she uses a plank of wood to save herself last second)

-rosi evades its stabbies because the green drippy stuff looks like venom

X-rosi somehow breaks off its spider legs, unbalancing it (delete because the lower idea is better, but maybe earlier one of the rocks she threw can unbalance it a bit and it jumps on her to attack closer because it feels threatened)

-rosi somehow tricks it to stab itself with its venom spider legs and it withers and turns to bone/ashes and yay key (she tricks it by deflecting it with something strong, like a boulder behind her, she got out of the way just as it does a slash at her, and it bounces perfectly into itself

And just like that, ordering and expanding on every part, you've got yourself an entire fight! Obviously it isn't as easy as counting to ten and opening a pot to a finished piece, but if you just take ten minutes or, better yet, an hour, you'll get somewhere. All you need is the base.

PART C - “She finds a key in its skull.”

Keys are shiny, and if it's daytime, maybe some light can twinkle off it as it falls, or she could just notice it because who wouldn't notice a key trapped in bones? Either way, she picks it up, as you do (unless you want an eagle to swoop in and take it, in which case rosi will have to chase after it and climb a tree and try to take it back from its nest and blahdy blah but rosi doesn't feel like moving anymore after the fight, so let's go with the easier option for now). She might have to wrench it out of bones, but it's fine, she's already dirty from the battle.

So what's the key look like, hmm? Is it rusty and old, or fleshy but firm and warm as suited for being trapped in brains for so long? Or oozing in the same venom, and she has to wipe it off with special fabric only trolls deeper in the forest are capable of making, or throw it in a lake to purify it? Maybe it's short, or missing half that you have to find somewhere along the journey. What does it unlock? Rosi won't know now, obviously, but you'd better have an idea or there'd be no point to it in the first place. Maybe this entire journey is in her mind and she's finding parts of a key to unlock her memory which will be a door to her childhood house. Maybe it's a master key to the villain's castle. Maybe it was accidentally baked in a cookie the beast ordered from a special fish-headed-cat-run bakery, and the little workers will be scrambling around to find the key and be so grateful that rosi brings it back that they hail her as king of fish-headed cats. You never know :D...except you kinda have to, so please have some sort of idea even if it's small.

That's practically all you can do in this part, so next we're on-

PART D - “She questions the key, then goes off to seek reason for it.”

Assuming she collects the key, what are her thoughts? It's all down to personality. Let's say rosi loves keys, and she has a whole collection at home, and she loves shiny things. She'll probably squee at the sight of it and act very excited - "she snatched up the key and chirruped her glee (oh hey, that rhymes!), and after a quick inspection with gleaming eyes, she tucked it safely in her pocket alongside trinkets from the seaside."

Because, you know, obviously she was at the seaside before all this. Or whatever else she was doing. It's your call. It's their personality. It's an optional connection, but a valid one nevertheless. Careful though - if she carries too much, she might get weighed down and drown.

In her case, she doesn't really think too hard on the key. Maybe she's already fought plenty of monsters and gotten a nice treasure trove of stuff. Maybe she's an air-head. Cough. Either way, the obstacle is gone so now she can go off and do what she was doing before - albeit a little more cautious, provided she learns from experience. If there's a clear indicator of what the key is for, or if the character was actively seeking it out, that'll obviously give a different outcome - maybe they'll turn back the way they came (car keys), or head for the town of blue oak (blue key) if that is already in their knowledge database, or ask the next person they see and get guided or tricked.

Finally, let's put this baby together! Let's start simple for now and just slap together this monstrosity with whatever little stuff we think of in the moment and some proper tense. We can build it up later (not here lol I've spent too much on this but you can if you want).

~~Rosi's Magical Adventure~~

Rosi ran along the forest without properly watching where she was going, when she bumped into a tree – but it was fluffy and warm and beating, not a tree. It was a bear duck spider beast.

Fish. That definitely shouldn't exit.

The beast slapped her in her daze and her back slammed against a tree. Despite being in pain, she scrambled to get up. She staggered, feeling the pierce in her ribs, the ache in her feet, the scream in her head that told her to run. It was drowned out under the beast's bellow. The earth shook and trees toppled one after another. Rosi spun on her heel and ran, avoiding the trees that twisted her path.

Even when she thought she outran it, it was always a step behind, a step above, a step ahead. Its spindly legs granted it an agility she couldn't imagine matching. Not only that – wherever the ends of those legs touched, an iridescent liquid spurted out, withering blooming manes and wilting once-proud trunks in an instant.

She shivered. She couldn't let it touch her. Realising that her (flee, running, escaping – whenever you can't think of the right words in the moment, just think of whatever is the closest and use that until you find the right word, or you might waste an hour racking your brains when you could just keep writing) was futile, she pounced into a rolling stop by a mound of rocks. It disoriented the beast for but a moment as she scooped a handful of rocks and hurled them at it. Most missed, or melted into its ragged coat, but a few landed directly against its uppermost legs. It gave an unnerved honk and flung itself at her, forcing her to the dirt, pummeling her with monstrous paws and claws that snapped her skin as she raised her hands to defend her face.

It honked. She grimaced. Her vision blurred and brain muddled with every honk. On impulse, one hand shot out to smack its flapping beak. Its pupils contorted, enraged by her sacrilege, and its spindle-legs shot towards her.

Just in time, she rolled free and pulled herself up, evading the blows that scattered poison over melting green. One hit went into a boulder. The boulder didn't budge. It was ineffective. It sparked an idea in Rosi, but she wasn't sure, so she waited until it happened again, and again it hit a boulder and bounced without damaging the boulder. She danced her way around the clearing, then stopped directly in front of boulder, facing the beast with her lips twisted into a wry smile.

The stabby leg slashed her way, but she ducked out of the way at the last second. Unable to redirect its blow, the leg bounced off the boulder and went directly into the beast's skull. The venom was quick to engulf the beast. Its skin vanished like the trees. It was only (bones, skeletal structure remained) and it fell before her. (If you still aren't sure how to write a part, break it down even further, even if it looks stupid. Keep breaking down everything as much as you need, until everything is plain to see and there are no misunderstandings. Then add on, and keep adding on, until you eventually understand.)

Streams of sunlight (because a lot of the trees died, so now there's some light in the forest) glinted off a surface lodged in the bones. Realising the rusty old metal to be a key, she snatched it up and chirruped her glee, and after a quick inspection with gleaming eyes, she tucked it safely in her pocket alongside trinkets from the seaside. Then she turned and limped her way back home, wondering why she came in the first place as blood trailed after her.

~~The End~~

It isn't perfect – far from it – but it doesn't matter. It's a start. You can work with it. You can keep going. Finish the chapter by repeating this process over and over, then go back and polish it when you've let the experience sink in a bit. Who knows where you'll go??? (ﾟヮﾟ)/

I spent almost three hours on this instead of writing my own book, and I'm tired, so I don't know if this makes sense, but I hope it's helpful a little??? I tried not to make it complex as much as possible so people of many levels can understand and hopefully get something out of it;;;

It's the method I've been using for a long time, especially when I'm in a difficult part or just can't get myself to write anything. Start simple, get something done, and keep going.

….....which I realise is the complete opposite of what I'm doing. Oh gosh what have I done OAAAAAO

….also this is really long and I'm scared so I'm not even going to hard read it over or edit now that I'm done writing.

ROSI OUT

[allegra-writes]

"Fine line" part I

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader x Harry Osborn

Teen and Up

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part of the "Fine Line" series. Welcome to the endgame.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

He had never seen you fight before. It was stupid of him, and potentially dangerous, to stop and think about something like that in the middle of a freaking battle, but he just couldn't help it. You were graceful, deadly. You and Kate Bishop moving together like a well oiled machine. Strike team Delta, Fury's pride. A blur of perfectly shot arrows and high kicks. 

But not even you were enough to stop the giant monstrosity in its path of destruction, not even him was. And it had hostages now. 

"Six!"

"I know K, I'm seeing it!"

"I'm on it guys!" Peter called back as he swung by you like a red and blue meteor, following the greenish abomination currently climbing up the side of a skyscraper, carrying a sports car on his free hand as effortlessly as if it was a toy. 

"One little question though" He switched to coms, "What the hell is that thing??"

"That thing" You explained, "is Norman Osborn…"

Peter's hand slipped, sending him flying face first into the building wall,

"Say what?!" 

"We'll fill you up later, Spidey" Kate quipped, "For now, would you mind giving us a hand before King-kong over there kills anyone? I don't trust his butter fingers not to drop that Audi"

"Yes, ma'am" You could hear Peter's smile in his voice, "S.H.I.E.L.D girls are so bossy"

"Well, we are your superiors..." You noted, finally arriving at the entrance of the building when he was already halfway to the top. 

"Ugh, I hate it when you pull rank on me" He groaned, swerving to dodge the shards of broken glass raining upon him.

You snorted, 

"No you don't"

"No, I don't" He admitted, "Kinda turns me on"

"Ew! Guys, I can hear you" Kate catched up to you, shooting an arrow hooked to a line around her belt. Peter wasn't surprised to see it hit its mark flawlessly on a ledge above his head, "Hi, hot stuff, need a ride?" 

You rolled your eyes, but wrapped your arms around her shoulders nonetheless, holding on tight. 

"Hey!" Peter protested, mid swing, "No flirting with my girl!"

"I saw her first!" Kate released the latch, and soon you both were ascending at breakneck speed, easily surpassing Peter, "Race you to the top, Spidey!" 

His laughter resonated through the coms, as he sped up to follow you, guns blazing into the battle.

…

There was no laughter anymore. The friendly banter and quick comebacks had died long ago, the second you had realized it was a trap. The goblin creature was far more intelligent than you were led to believe, having set the ploy from the very beginning, his seemingly driftless rampage through the city, not so random after all. 

And far more psychotic, as you had learnt when he tore open the car in his hands to reveal the terrified blond man inside. 

"HARRY!"

Peter's horrified scream matched your own.

"Well well well, it seems you awake quite the loyalty" a massive hand closed around Harry's torso, his indigo orbs finding yours across the rooftop "for such a pathetic little worm"

"Let him go, Goblin" Kate's tone was placating, almost gentle, "you don't know what you're doing…"

The creature laughed,

"That's what you think? What your imbecilic little investigation concluded?" Kate and you exchanged a look. Of course. Your investigation about the Green Goblin and other Oscorp shady experiments relied heavily on Norman Osborn personal files. The thought of the passionate scientist, who valued his work more than his own son, lying in his own research had never even crossed your minds. He had played you like a fiddle, misled you every step of the way, and you had bought right into it.

"I worked with S.H.I.E.L.D longer than you had been alive, and Fury thinks he can sic you after me? Two little girls playing spy and my own creation??" Harry looked about ready to pass out as the Goblin waved him around, gesticulating with his hands as he spoke.

Through the corner of his eye, Peter caught a glimpse of Kate inching closer to the beast, and was only half interested when he inquired,

"What do you mean your creation?"

"Everything special about you," The Goblin's deformed visage twisted in what Peter assumed was supposed to be a smirk, "came from one of my labs!"

"That might be true, you might have involuntarily given me my powers, but you didn't make me Spider-man" Peter countered, "Mister Stark gave me the suit, and showed me what it meant to be a hero, and I loved him and admire him more than you will ever be able to understand, but he didn't make me Spider-man either. 

I choose to be Spider-man, every day. I created myself, cause it isn't who we were made to be that makes us who we are. Our choices make us who we are! You might have the powers and appearance of a monster, but you don't have to be one!"

"If you really think that, you are even more stupid than I thought, Peter Parker"

"Pe-peter?" Harry gasped through the creatures crushing grasp around his torso. Peter hesitated for a second, before taking his mask off. 

"Yeah, it's me, buddy" He admitted, watching his friend's eyes go wide, "It's going to be ok, Haz. We'll get you out of this, I promise…"

Famous last words. Peter should have known better by then than to jinx things like that. Because not two minutes later, he was seeing Kate's little ambush fail, the creature's tail whipping around with enough force to send her flying against a wall and knock her out, Peter's own kick just a little too slow to stop the Goblin from grabbing you in his free hand.

"Wings? It has fucking wings??" Peter cursed under his breath, scrambling to follow the monster as he flapped his enormous, membranous wings, soaring across the city. But the creature had no intention of going too far.

"You say our choices make us who we are, very well" The Goblin challenged him, hovering above 700 feet of empty air, and Peter's heart stopped. "Let's see what yours are. What is it going to be, your friend… or your lover?" 

"Don't do it, Goblin!" He yelled, standing on a ledge, ready to pounce, when he saw it. Or rather, saw her, purple hair blowing in the wind, standing on the air, a little lower and further behind from the Goblin, one palm pointed down, creating some sort of sonic wave that kept her up. She signaled a series of orders with her free hand, and Peter nodded almost imperceptibly, but enough for you to realize something was happening. You twisted in the Goblins grip to see what was going on at your back. Oh, fuck.

"Make your choice, Peter. Now!" 

Norman Osborn let go of you and Harry at the same time, leaving you to watch your boyfriend dive for your ex. But you weren't falling, you were floating, cushioned by a column of vibrating air. 

"Don't worry, rookie," You heard an annoyingly familiar voice say, "big sis is here…"

Great. You were never going to live this down, now. 

Meanwhile, Peter had problems of his own, the momentum the Goblin had thrown his own son away making it difficult for him to catch Harry on time.

And even after he had the other man safe in his arms, he wouldn't stop squirming, fighting in his hold. 

"Noooo! Go after her! Save her!!"

Peter managed to land the both of them in a terrace, 

"She's ok! She's fine, see? She's got this! She's got this…" Peter finally released Harry, pointing up to the place where you still were hovering in the air with that other agent. 

"She… she's… flying?" 

"I think that is actually the other one's making…" Peter shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. Harry started pacing back and forth, obviously overwhelmed, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

"And you're Spider-man…" he turned to Peter, who nodded. "And that thing… what the fuck was that thing?" 

Peter hesitated,

"Apparently, a crazy scientist" he finally decided on a half truth.

"A crazy… Mate, what even is your life?"

"Honestly? I've been asking myself that same question for years…"

Harry barked out a watery, hysterical laugh. He wanted to punch the shorter guy, he wanted to throw himself at his feet and thank him for saving his life. To apologize for all the drunken midnight calls, and also stab him in his boyishly handsome face for being so fucking noble and heroic and brave and impossibly perfect and for stealing his girl. 

He clutched as his chest, the burn almost making him double over in pain, and he realized he was hyperventilating.

"Harry, Harry, look at me. Look at me! Do you feel my chest? Can you feel my chest under your hand?" 

Harry noticed then that Peter was pressing his open palm, splayed against the spider logo on his own chest. He nodded his affirmation.

"Good, feel how it moves? Breath with me" Peter ordered, "inhale…" 

Harry breathed in, in time with his friend's expanding chest.

"Now exhale" 

Harry let go of his breath.

"That's right, you're doing so great" Peter's praise warmed up something inside his gut. "Inhale…" and Harry did, catching a faint whiff of your perfume. Peter smelled like you, the realization making him notice just how close to each other they were, only inches apart. And he wondered idly if that was the view you were used to, the one you favored over everything else: warm brown eyes, staring into your soul, right before leaning in. He wondered if you appreciated those hard, muscular shoulders under your hands, before pulling him close. He wondered if Peter's lips still tasted like you.

And before he knew it, Peter found himself with Harry's mouth crashing on his.

He knew he should stop it, step away, but he was rooted to the spot, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of sensations. It was different from kissing a girl. Hard planes where he was used to soft curves. The tickle of scruff, and slightly chapped lips where he was used to your strawberry sweet lipstick. But as Harry's tongue licked his bottom lip, begging for entrance, Peter couldn't help but open up to him, to surrender to him, as his tongue conquered every inch of Peter's mouth, a greddy, hungry victor. 

"I hate you so much" Harry breathed against Peter's mouth, even as his big hands came to frame the brunet's face, the metal of his finger rings cool against Peter's cheeks

"Doesn't feel like hate…" He quipped, before scraping his teeth against Harry's lips, tearing a moan out of him.

"No, it doesn't" the taller boy admitted, pushing one thigh between Peter's, gasping as he felt one of the hero's hands coming to rest against his lower back, pressing him closer. 

"You taste like cigarettes" Peter marveled, for some reason finding the bittersweet taste delicious. 

"And you taste like her" Harry replied, diving in again.

Peter froze. Her. You. His girlfriend. 

"Harry… Harry stop" Peter muttered, between nibbles "we need to stop. This is wrong"

"Feels right" The heir protested, teeth latching onto Peter's lower lip to stop him from pulling away. Peter groaned, but managed to break the kiss anyway. 

"It's not. We can't do this to her." 

Harry sighed, resting his forehead against Peter's, still reluctant to let go completely,

"I know…" he admitted. 

They stood like that for a few moments, willing breathings to calm, and hearts to slow down.

"You should go" Harry spoke finally, taking a step back, Peter immediately missing the warmth of his body in his arms. He wanted to say something, anything, to chase away the heartbreak, the loneliness in those pale blue eyes, but he couldn't. The knot in his own throat would not allow it. 

So he just stepped away, slipping his mask on, and jumped. He caught a glimpse of Harry's teary, red face, sticking out from the balcony to watch him go, before shooting off a web and swinging away, back to the skyscraper where Kate had fallen. Because if he knew you at all, that was exactly where you were going to be, taking care of your best friend.

…

"...I'm telling you, I had everything under control!"

"Is that why you were hanging 700 feet in the air?" The purple haired girl argued, crossing her arms over her chest, "Admit it, rookie, you're lucky I arrived just in time to save your ass. Again."

You were fuming, face flushed and eyes bright, and Peter found himself struck yet again by how gorgeous you were. A pang of guilt stabbed his stomach. 

"I didn't ask you too" You replied, petulantly, "and stop calling me 'rookie', I'm a level 9 agent."

"... I'm still higher than you"

"For one level!" You cried in frustration, "One single fucking level!"

"Would you two shut up?" Kate stumbled up, and Peter broke free from his haze to hurry and wrap a stabilizing arm around her shoulders, "You're giving me a headache"

"Yeah, that would be the concussion," purple quipped, "don't worry, Simmons should be here any minute to take a look at that"

"Yay, finally a sane person to talk to" Kate deadpanned. Purple ignored her.

"And you must be the boyfriend…" She singsonged, nudging you with her shoulder, "He's cute under the mask, how did you managed to get him to go out with you?" 

"Hey!" Peter and you exclaimed indignantly, in unison. 

"I'm kidding, jeez!" She raised her hands in surrender. "Come on, won't you introduce us?" 

You rolled your eyes, but complied anyway,

"Daisy, this is Peter Parker. Peter, this is Daisy Johnson, weirdo fancies herself my sister"

"Ooh, 'fancies'! You've spent way too much time with that brit boy, didn't you?"

"Daisy, I swear to god I will-"

"You need to tell her" Kate whispered, taking advantage of your distraction.

"Wh-what?"

She scoffed, Kate had never had much patience for anyone's bullshit.

"About what just happened with Harry. She will understand, Peter, I promise. But only if she hears it from you"

"H-how do you know?"

"I see better from afar" The archer smirked, before returning her attention to you and, apparently, your sister.

"Are they always like that?" Peter whispered, a little alarmed. Kate snorted,

"Just wait till you meet the rest of her old team…"  

"Yeah, what do you say, boyfriend?" Daisy smirked, mischievous glimmer in her eyes so much like yours, "Ready to meet the family?" 

Peter gulped, he really wasn't. 

To be continued...

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

You caught my attension with the "Bad end Wizard Wally" Au, what else goes down in there?

A lot of things anon, a lot of things:

-Instead of even so much as humoring the thought of telling Conner, Wally straight up quits and gets a job elsewhere.

-A few years later both Wally and Henry get letters asking them to come to the old studio; one from Joey asking Henry to ‘come visit the old workshop’, the other from Thomas begging Wally to destroy the machine because he can’t do it himself.

-Henry and Wally show up to the inked studio.

-Curiosity leads the pair to activate the ink machine. (Wally thought that Thomas was referring to the other ink machine, not the one suspended by chains.)

-The Ink Demon breaks down the boards and chases them through the studio before the floor breaks beneath them.

-Post-machine activation: the studio fucks with Wally’s magical powers, often having spells backfire on himself. (i.e. if he tries to make something levitate, it automatically flings itself into his face.)

-Due to the fact that Joey found out how to successfully make living cartoons out of people early on, there are no searchers in the studio.

-The Lost ones are still here but they’re much rarer, they flee from sight whenever you see them, and they aren’t made by the machine like canon implied, instead they’re human beings who drank the ink.  

-The two unwilling heroes try to escape via the music department’s flooded stairwell, but they get stopped by Sammy and dragged deeper into ink hell.

-Sammy doesn’t worship the Ink Demon in this AU. In fact, his mind and body are not affected by the ink at all.

-Instead, his mental decline is brought on by his own psychic abilities which he became aware of due to Joey’s meddling. He can’t even think about the past and present anymore, only the future.

-Thus, the man’s new role is not of a desperate madman clinging onto a false savior, but instead a cold and calculating wildcard of an oracle who constantly stalks the two heroes from the shadows and throws wrenches in their escape plans, but also keeps them safe from the wrath of the ink demon whenever he can.

-Boris is still a friend, but he’s a little less chipper and much more on edge than canon.

-Either Wally or Henry can find a tape recorder buried in Boris’s stuff that was made by a gofer who’s talking about the fact that while the living cartoons came out of the machine looking exactly like their animated counterparts, they often try to change how they look, behave coldly and are hostile towards everybody, and are especially hostile towards Joey Drew.

-“The Cameraman is probably the worst out of all of them, it’s almost like he’s trying to make everybody quit their jobs!”

-You know how dogs sigh like they had the roughest time in the world? The only noise Boris makes is that sigh and he only makes it when that tape recording is played.

-Who attacks our heroes if searchers aren’t in the enemy roster? Simple: a hoard of deformed toons.

-We’ve got our classic Butchered gang members, Sliced-Split-n-Stitched Back up SSSB members, and Woolly troubled trios.

-But these appear in the music dep, Bendyland, the village, and the administration offices. Instead of being regular deformed, the enemies in the Heavenly toys department have seemingly been forcefully fused together.

-This makes them slower and weaker, but they also have three times as much health now.

-Susie is referred to as “Twisted Alice” in the studio. This is because she doesn’t look like a more human-proportioned Alice Angel with a deformed face, but instead a mashup of Alice Angel and Miss Twisted.

-Looks like misery loves company.

-Instead of seeking ‘perfection’ Twisted Alice sends Wally and Henry to do tasks for her because she’s trying to make herself be one or the other, she doesn’t care which one she’ll end up as anymore but trying to be two (technically three) different people at once is really messing with her.

-The tasks she gives are still the same, instead of the swollen searcher task, that’s instead replaced with “Gather thick ink from the flooded level”.

-You know how the Projectionist is already scary?

-Imagine him with the ability to raise the dead.

-Like, Henry and Wally are in level 14 gathering severed hearts...

-And then an ear-splitting scream echoes through the area.

-And.

-Then.

-The.

-Fucking.

-Corpses.

-Of.

-The.

-Dead.

-Toons.

-Start.

-Rising.

-And.

-Attacking.

-Norman’s ‘I sees everythang’ tape is slightly altered to include more corpse puns.

-When all the chores are done, Twisted Alice does keep her word and lets Henry and Wally up.

-When they’re *this* close to seeing daylight again, *BAM!*

-The Elevator drops like a hot coal.

-Was it sabotaged? Was it just old and dangerous? Was this just bad luck? That’s up for interpretation depending on who you believe first.

-Boris is kidnapped by a much more Miss Twisted-looking Twisted Alice while the old men are out.

-Intentional murder to commit dog theft, or Miss Twisted being opportunistic?

-Giant cavern? Lame carnival minigames? Air vent maze? Nah, screw that, instead Bendyland gets some more rides.

-Fight off foes in the ferris wheel!

-Avoid killer bumper cars with running chainsaws attached to them while trying to get the haunted house’s power back on!

-Can’t forget Bertrum! In the fight, if he puts down all four of his arms and pushes down hard enough, he can actually walk around the room.

-Kinda like a giant mechanical spider with only four legs.

-This makes it harder to hit his weak points and makes it easy for him to fucking stampede over “Joey”, which is why he does it. But it takes a lot out of him, so he can’t do it for very long.

-And he can’t do it anymore if two or more of his arms are ripped off.

-The Projectionist’s section is the same but with more toon corpses around.

-And if you didn’t get caught in his light or touch the hearts, when Wally and Henry pile into the miracle station and The Projectionist is *just* about to open the door until getting interrupted, instead of screaming at the ink demon and getting into a fight, the Projectionist opens the door and fucking squeezes himself in there.

-Not very comfortable, but better than the alternative.

-Congrats to Henry and Wally, who graduated from ‘trespassing thieves’ to ‘weird but sorta okay flesh things who didn’t take my hearts again and let me in their safe territory in spite of me trying to kill them’.

-Boris actually can be saved.

-Did you give the dog a bone back at the safe house?

-Good, now give him three more.

-The Janitor and the Animator have no fucking clue why throwing bones at this deformed, beefed-up version of Boris managed to melt off the excess ink and junk, or why he can speak now, but they’re not going to look a gift wolf in the mouth.

-Did somebody say back-to-back boss battle?

-I did!

-Sadly, it’s kind of a short fight as it can range from ‘three on one and one of them is a fucking wizard (just because recoil is hell doesn’t mean it’ll stop Wally in dire situations)’ to ‘four on one and one of those four can bring back the dead by screaming’.

-Allison and Tom wrangle the team up and stick ‘em in the “guest room”.

-Tom chews Wally out for re-activating the ink machine, Wally can’t take him seriously when he’s that fucking small and sounds like a mechanical snob.

-It’s even funnier when the Projectionist has been befriended.

-Let him have his tiny camera-headed son back, Allison.

-The river boat chase is longer and there seems to be more than just one hand coming out of the ink.

-Wally swears he sees a bunch of teeth in the river while the hands are down.

-In the village, the group are immediately attacked by a swarm of deformed toons when they approach the boarded up hovel.

-They shout things like “STAY AWAY FROM THE PROPHET!” and stuff like that in their garbled voices.

-When all of them are gone, peering through the boards in the hovel the team approached in the first place reveals that Sammy is indeed in there, just staring off into space and muttering about something the team can’t quite make out.

-Breaking down the said boards might seem logical, but it triggers a brutal boss fight against him. That musical bastard is fast and hits like a freight train. Also psychic powers, you have to be the luckiest person in the world to win a fight against a man who sees your every move before you can even think of it.

-Just... leave him be... and focus on getting outta here.

-The administration maze is as annoying as ever thanks to not having any weapons and the maze itself being magically disabling.

-Beast Bendy gets some bigger legs to go with his giant torso and head.

-Now he’s even faster and more annoying!

-but can’t do shit against the team.

-Good Ending: getting the biggest team you can in game, breaking the machine and punching Joey in the face for doing ...that. It sucks that everything got this bad but at least you helped the others make it outta there.

-Neutral ending: “Come by the old workshop, there’s something I need to show you”

-Bad Ending of the ‘Bad end Wizard Wally Au’  (Worst possible ending): Henry and Wally have fully succumbed to the ink through a path of violence, evading death by the toons, and have fully lost themselves, they do not remember their lives and families before the ink anymore. And Joey couldn’t be more tickled pink! It’s a shame that making perfect demon toons is such a complicated process compared to making an object-headed toon, a ‘human’ toon, or an animalistic toon, but all the trouble was worth it as a trip through the machine later, Joey finally has the last two he needs: A Perfect Papa Pluto and a Perfect Bendy.

[hybristophilica]

Memory

“Is what they say true? Are you really at fault for Dr. Humbert’s death?” Olivia’s voice was sharp and cold, and she was holding up his gaze, but barely. What could Alexander say to try to convince her it wasn’t true? All the evidence pointed at him, and rumors spread fast and easily in the Humber Labs.

“It was an accident,” Alexander replied, putting down the files he’d been working on that morning, when his daughter had rushed to his office. “I didn't start the fire purposefully,” he lied.

Olivia’s scowl deepened, and Alexander knew she wasn’t believing a word he said. “Why did he have to come to your laboratory that afternoon?”

“That is none of your business, Olivia. It’s strictly confidential.”

“I am done with your bullshit. You won’t tell me? Fine,” Olivia snapped, with clearly no intention of letting the matter go. She rushed out of the office, heading to the other side of the building. Alexander realized her intentions just a second too late, and even if he ran behind her, trying to stop her before she could turn the doorknob of the laboratory door, he couldn’t make it in time.

For so long he’d managed to keep his secret such. For so long he’d tried to hide the ugliest part of him from the only good thing he’d ever done and had. And now it was over.

Alexander watched with horror Olivia’a expression twist at the sight of the cages and the deformed corpses on the tables. They’d been the first experiments, the first subjects he’d tested the gas on, and their skin was covered in plagues and sores, bloody and burnt.

“What is this,” Olivia asked in a whisper, turning around and bending on herself as she threw up with a sob. Alexander leaned one hand on her back, trying to comfort her, but she jerked away from him, shoving his hand down.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare lay a finger one me!” She shouted, barely able to stand straight on her feet.

“Olivia, let me explain, ple—“

“There is nothing to explain! This is why Dr. Humbert wanted to confront you about, isn’t it?! This…slaughter is the reason of his death and are you going to do the same you did to him— to me?” Olivia asked in a whisper. Alexander’s breath caught in his throat.

“Olivia, I would never do this to you, you’re my—“

“I am not! I am nothing to you. You’re a monster,” she hissed, turning around to glance again at the bodies on the table, but she couldn’t hold the gaze for long, breaking into another fit of cry.

“I don’t want to see you ever again,” she concluded, and ran away from the laboratory, leaving Alexander alone with his experiments.

Alexander didn’t even have to choose between his passion and his flesh and blood that day, Olivia had taken that possibility away from him. He’d left behind the only person he’d ever loved and cared to continue pursuing his…dream, but, to this day, he still didn't know if it had been worth it.

Olivia may have abandoned the memory of him, Alexander hoped she did, really, but every time he stepped into the arena, he brought a picture of his daughter inside of one of the pockets of the lab coat. He often found himself caressing his thumb against it, remembering the sacrifice they both had to do for him to be here today.

[elfrootaddict]

SHE IS THE KEY - Chapter 2/5

DESCRIPTION: Solas is desperate to meet the person who survived the explosion at the Conclave. Things certainly didn’t go as planned.

SERIES: Halla & Wolf

VOLUME: 2

Solas takes his staff from the ground and stands to sit on the steps behind him. With the prisoner still lying unconscious on the floor, he gazes over her lifeless demeanour as she taunts him with questions. Almost mocking him.

Who are you? How could have possibly survived? Where is my orb?

Solas swings his backpack off his shoulders and brings it between his feet. Hunching over he takes out several parchments of paper, a magically sealed ink pot, a quill, and then neatly places his backpack next to him. Like any good scholar, Solas decides to ink down his thoughts. 

Frustrated with the poorly lit room, he raises his left hand and with a single gesture increases the size of the fire on the torches. The fires now burn double their normal size and therefore, doubling the light coming from them. Pleased, Solas puts his ink pot down on the step next to him, dips his quill and begins to write in Ancient Elvish.

8440 FA:

No sign of the orb. The orb has been successfully unlocked. Corypheus has perished, as expected. I haven’t seen any of my agents. They are safe then. The Temple of Sacred Ashes completely destroyed. Everyone within is dead. Except, for the prisoner. 

There is a monumentally large hole in the Veil. Not my doing. A rift lies directly underneath it. It is the sauce of the Breach. I have met with Lady Cassandra, Right Hand of the Divine. Used to be a Seeker. She has agreed to give me access to the prisoner and accepts my help to seal the Breach. 

The prisoner is Dalish. She has blood writing of Mythal. Not one of mine. Female. Young. Perhaps 25-30 years of age? She is wearing shem clothes. A spy for her clan? Her face is horribly wounded. In order for her to communicate, I will need to heal her. 

Then without warning, the ominous magic violently sparks back to life, filling the room with its bright, green glow. Solas stops writing to observe and after a moment, it abruptly stops. Solas then dips his quill back into the ink pot and proceeds in finishing up his writing. 

The prisoner has the Anchor. But not the orb. It has left an entrance wound. Will need to heal that, too. 

Putting his quill and papers down, Solas gets up and walks towards the prisoner. He kneels down in front of her with his feet tucked underneath him as he attempts to study the Anchor. He couldn’t care less about the deformities on this elf’s face for the moment. 

However, Solas quickly realises that should the prisoner wake up, the laceration running across her mouth would prevent her from speaking, and Cassandra wouldn’t be happy about that. Reluctantly shifting his priorities, Solas groans as he takes hold of her shoulders and guides the prisoner onto her back. Her figure now elegantly twisting as her hips still lie on their side while her face and chest look up towards the ceiling. 

Holding his hands just above her face, Solas’s hands light up with white-blue cleansing magic. Before he can heal her trauma, he first needs to remove all the blood from her skin so he can see exactly how best to heal her wounds. 

As his hands slowly glide and hover above her face, the blood begins to slowly lift off in tiny particles, and just before reaching his hands do they disintegrate entirely. With her face all cleaned up, Solas can now get a better look at this impostor. He brings his hands down onto his lap and stares at the prisoner with unwavering curiosity. Looking for answers that are perhaps hidden beneath her motionless face. 

Unexpectedly however, only one truth reveals itself to him. 

She is… beautiful.

Shaken and disturbed by his carnal, distractive thoughts he blinks hard to regain his focus. 

Impossibly angry with himself for noticing her beauty, he folds his brows into a deep frown and once again raises his hands towards her face. With full concentration, Solas magically sows her skin back together. Should she have been one of his agents, he would have taken a little more care in healing her. However, he just needs her to be able to communicate, and he doesn’t have the luxury of taking his time. Solas drops his hands and observes his hastened work. The two healed wounds have left large scars on the prisoner’s skin. Echoing what was once there.

Good enough. She should be able to speak now. 

Solas then moves his attention to her hands as he takes hold of her left wrist and raises her shackled hands up towards him. With the same impatient attitude, he places his a hand over her mark and begins to heal the deep laceration, too. 

As he begins to heal her hand, the Anchor flares up again. Startled by the violent outburst, Solas falls and stumbles backwards. Having been so close to the magic that came from the Anchor, Solas begins to experience small shocks of electricity all along his arm. 

The Anchor is unstable. This elf doesn’t have the ability to contain its power! 

Now furious, Solas scowls at the seemingly undisturbed prisoner before him. This Dalish elf has stolen his Anchor and clearly lacks the ability to contain it. Sitting back up, he violently grabs her shackles, peels back her fingers and looks even closer at his stolen treasure. 

Allowing his emotions to get the better of him, he looks at the prisoner with raw fury burning in his eyes as he barks in Elvish, “How did you come by the orb?! Where is it now? Why were you there? Why did you interfere?” 

Silence.

Solas tosses the prisoner’s hands away with frustration and resentment. Now sitting on his rear with his legs bent and feet planted on the floor, he buries his face in his hands. After a moment, he takes in a long, deep breath and eventually releases it, warming his icy hands. He then rests his elbows on his knees, with arms dangling casually, and looks up at the ceiling above him. Agitated, bitter and terrified, Solas almost starts to weep.

What am I to do now? At least Corypheus is dead. At least that has gone to plan. 

Solas decides he needs to calm his mind and emotions. He cannot think clearly while being so worked up. His anger and self pity isn’t going to help him. He then sits straight up with his legs crossed and brings his hands towards mouth as if he is about to pray. He then chuckles quietly to himself at such a silly notion. 

As he proceeds to close his eyes, he can feel his mind begin to concentrate as tries to figure this out logically out-loud in Elvish, “Corypheus had the orb. But, the prisoner has the Anchor. To receive the Anchor one must hold onto the orb. Therefore, the prisoner held the orb as it unlocked. But how did she survive? 

“To survive the explosion, she would have to have to have been somewhere else entirely. However, with the Anchor in her hand she couldn’t have been anywhere else but the Conclave. With Corypheus. 

“Cassandra mentioned that they found the prisoner under the rift. The rift is a gateway into the Fade. Therefore, there is only one explanation. The prisoner had somehow managed to obtain the orb. The orb then bestowed the Anchor onto her. And using the power of the Anchor, she then opened a rift, intentional or not, and entered the Fade… physically.” 

Solas opens his eyes wide from shock in his revelation. He cannot believe the undeniable truth to this theory. 

No, not theory. Fact. 

Realising that the only conclusion that this mere Dalish elf walked through the Fade physically, and survived is… miraculous. Solas is almost impressed. Perhaps there is more to her than he anticipated. Nevertheless, Solas can’t help but also feel a bit envious. He has only been able to enter the Fade in dream state and has wanted nothing more than to be able to walk through the Fade in his physical form.

With time running out, Solas decides to run some magical tests to hopefully unveil more certain, relevant truths. Even though it has only been a year since waking from utherena, Solas’s magical talents are still far superior to any other mage around. Just as one would expect from an Ancient Elf.

Solas stretches his arms out in front of him, closes his eyes, and clears his mind to focus only on the prisoner. He can feel primordial magic lying beneath her skin. Pumping through in her blood with every steady heart beat and coursing through her veins as well. 

She’s a mage. 

He can also feel the magic from the Anchor and it is spreading. He can sense it slowly clawing its way through her body, like a sickness. At this rate, it will completely take over her body within a matter of days. And considering that the Anchor is already so unstable, she will most likely die as a result. 

Solas is tempted by the idea. The orb can only connect to one Anchor at a time, and if she were to die, the orb would then be free to bestow another. And this time, it would be with Solas.

However, in the back of his mind two issues gnaw at him. 

The first being, Lady Cassandra. She would not take kindly to the fact that Solas allowed the prisoner to die. She would most likely have him imprisoned or killed for not producing the results he so confidently promised her. 

And the second far more important issue, is the Breach. With the Veil so unstable, there is currently hundreds of Spirits pouring through rifts across the valley. Most of them being innocent Spirits being twisted against their very nature as they are forced into the living world. 

And without having any idea of where the orb is, who knows how long it would take before he would find it before he could restore order, and save the Spirits from torment. 

With resentment, Solas realises he actually needs the prisoner. She needs to stay alive. If she is able to open rifts, then she should be able to close them. And in turn, seal the Breach. 

She is the key.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

READ ON AO3

Halla & Wolf Series

[proxylynn]

Lynchtale: File Name Game of Death #3

Chapter 3: Know the rules, so you can break them.

WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY THAT WILL HAVE BLOOD, GORE, PSYCHOLOGICAL SURVIVAL HORROR, HEAVY CURSING, AND LIKELY SEXUAL THEMES/BONING. I DO NOT OWN UNDERTALE, THAT BELONGS TO LORD TOBY FOX. I DO NOT OWN DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, THAT BELONGS TO BEHAVIOUR DIGITAL INC.. I DON'T OWN THE AU'S THAT SOME OF THE CHARACTERS COME FROM, THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE CREATORS. I DON'T OWN THE IDEA FOR LYNCHTALE, THAT BELONGS TO PUNNYSIDEUP (AKA. SANSFULPUNS). WHAT I DO OWN IS MY SELF-INSERT OC ANOMALY LYNSIE AND THE LOVE OF FAN PARODY. IF YOU'RE STILL READING THIS, THEN CONGRATULATIONS ON EITHER BEING ONE WITH STRONG DETERMINATION OR AN ENDLESS WILL TO OVERCOME THE CHALLENGE OF STOMACHING WHAT I HAVE IN MIND. EITHER WAY, IF YOU LIKE THIS AND/OR MY OTHER CONTENT, SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. HAVE FUN SINNERS. ^_^

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[Elsewhere: Killer Shack]

*CLANG-CLANG*

"Tra la la. The meeting will now come to order."

Wraith materializes and gets the other killers attention.

"As we have been doing for the last five feed cycles...Tra la la...We will now see if anyone has encountered the new Survivor. Show of hands?"

The room is very still. Till one hand goes up in a cocky way.

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE JOKING."

Trapper says bitterly.

"IF ANYONE SHOULD'VE GOTTEN TO HAVE A STAB AT THE NEW MEAT IT'S ME. I AM THE FIRST CHOSEN. IT IS MY RIGHT TO SPILL THEIR PATHETIC BLOOD UPON THE NEW HUNT."

This is indeed true. While not technically oldest killer, by place in time that's no doubt Plague as she's from a time between 1895-539 BC and by age that is up for questioning as time has no effect on them thus they haven't aged nor have they cared to ask what any of them were, but Trapper does hold the title of first taken by the Entity so he is the senior killer. In order of their arrival there was Trapper, Wraith, Hillbilly, Nurse, Shape, Hag, Doctor, Huntress, Cannibal, Nightmare, Pig, Clown, Spirit, Legion, Plague, and the latest one recruited being Ghost Face. But screw this seniority hierarchy bullshit! Legion's grin is wide, full of bravado, and no one likes it.

"Legion, is it true? Did you come across the human in your trial? Tra la la."

"ah, what's the matter? can't stand that it wasn't any of you that got to have fun with the new meat? well, suck it! that was one of the best hunts i've had ever! *manic laughter*"

Ghost Face creeps his way nearby.

"My my...Two of us now has had her all to themselves. Tell us, darling, how did it go? Was she as Wraith told us? How did you kill her? Details. They are important. Do share."

Feeling like the cock of the walk, Legion puts his hands in his pockets coolly.

"now i'm not one to kill and tell, but since you asked...i didn't kill her."

This gets some odd looks his way.

".........?"

"The Shape is right, deary. How did you not kill her?"

Plague asks legitimately.

"heh...i'll tell you, but i want something in exchange."

"✡⚐🕆 ⚐☠☹✡ 👍⚐☠❄✋☠🕆☜ ❄⚐ ✌💣✌☪☜ 💣☜ 🕈✋❄☟ ❄☟☜ ☜✞☜☼ ☝☼⚐🕈✋☠☝ ☹☜✞☜☹💧 ⚐☞ 👌⚐☹👎☠☜💧💧 ✡⚐🕆 ☝☜❄ ✌💧 ❄✋💣☜ 🏱✌💧💧☜💧📬" (YOU ONLY CONTINUE TO AMAZE ME WITH THE EVER GROWING LEVELS OF BOLDNESS YOU GET AS TIME PASSES.)

The Doctor remarks with a thought they all shared.

"trust me. the info i got is worth it. all i want is a gruesome gateau. and i know at least one of you still has one. you give me that, and i'll tell you every single thing that went down. every...last...little...detail."

"For the Entity's sake! Someone pay the man! I can't take this tease!"

Ghost Face is a needy one. But as a recently recruited killer, it's not like he had the item of request.

"How do we know what you have to say is worth it? For all we know, you're just playing us like a fox with a hare."

Huntress makes a valid point.

"fine. if you really need a sample...she helped me kill the other humans."

This little snippet of what he knew is just tempting enough to win over the majority.

"I shall deliver the offering to you after the meeting, dear."

Nurse says politely and Legion rubs his hands together deviously.

"alright. thank you kindly, lady. now gather round papa legion, kiddies, for i got quite the story to tell."

And he wasn't lying. Legion tells them everything. From her unique terror radius, to her resentment leading to betrayal, and her bizarre behavior before he stopped it from getting worst, to then letting her escape through the hatch. The only things he didn't mention are the small joke moments and the personal torture time. Somethings are just to enjoyed by the ones involved. Not like she enjoyed it. But he certainly did.

"T-This human is an odd one. They n-normally don't t-turn on each other unless w-we're going at them hard."

Pig stutters in thought.

"I'LL GIVE HER CREDIT. SHE DIDN'T STAND FOR THEIR BULLSHIT."

Trapper says with a smirk.

"Come on. she's just a messed up Human. quit sucking her dick like she's the god of all Humans."

Nightmare spats unimpressed.

"hAG thought human was she?"

Oh, Hag, you special bundle of try. Nightmare just glares and shakes his head, he's not one known for his patience.

"What do you think, Doctor? Tra la la."

"✋ ❄☟✋☠😐 ❄☟☜ 💣⚐☼☜ ✋☠❄☜☼☜💧❄✋☠☝ ✌💧🏱☜👍❄ ⚐☞ ☹☜☝✋⚐☠🕯💧 ✌👍👍⚐🕆☠❄ 🕈✌💧 ❄☟✌❄ 💣⚐💣☜☠❄ ☠☜✌☼ ❄☟☜ ☜☠👎📬 ✋❄ 💧☜☜💣☜👎📬📬📬⚐👎👎☹✡ ☼☜💣✋☠✋💧👍☜☠❄📬" (I THINK THE MORE INTERESTING ASPECT OF LEGION'S ACCOUNT WAS THAT MOMENT NEAR THE END. IT SEEMED...ODDLY REMINISCENT.)

"You mean the part where she was TURNING?"

That got them to look at Spirit.

"What? You can't tell me it's not OBVIOUS."

"*cough* Would you care to explain? *hack*"

Clown snarkily questioned through his smoker's lung-like coughing.

"I mean, I don't know if any of you remember, but I know the ENTITY likes to do things to the ones IT LIKES. You can't believe we LOOK LIKE THIS ON PURPOSE."

She brought up a good point. They didn't remember much about their pasts, but they knew most of them weren't as disfigured when they first were claimed by the Entity. Trapper didn't put the iron rods and hooks into his bones. Nurse didn't choke herself with a pillowcase over her head. Hag didn't cake herself in muck and deform her hands. Spirit didn't impale her body in shards of glass and she didn't sever her arms or implant a sword in one. Legion didn't merge with other people because they wanted to. Doctor didn't strap himself into his electroconvulsive gear to pry his eyes and mouth open, nor did he stream the wires into his bones. Wraith didn't lose it's form and identity because it felt like doing so. These were things the Entity did, taking what it knew of them and adding to them, sometimes as a punishment. Sure, other killers didn't go through such visible changes like them. Huntress and Clown only seemed to have blackened out eyes, like a creepy doll or a monstrous shark. Shape, Pig, Ghost Face, and Cannibal were unknowns as they wore masks and tended to don fully covering outfits. The hardest to tell if the Entity did anything to were Plague, Hillbilly, and Nightmare. All three were brought in with some sort of disfigurement so its really hard to say what was done to them if anything.

"SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING IS...THAT HUMAN, FOR WHATEVER REASON, WAS BECOMING A MONSTER?"

Trapper has a totally non-asshole sounding tone.

"That's my IDEA at least."

It is just an suspicion Spirit had and nothing concrete.

"...THAT'S JUST STUPID."

Never mind, Trapper is just an asshole.

"You shouldn't dismiss it so soon. Tra la la. Nothing is beyond reason when it comes to the Entity."

A very good point made by Wraith.

"✋☞ ❄☟✋💧 ❄☟☜⚐☼✡ ✋💧 ❄⚐ 👌☜ 👌☜☹✋☜✞☜👎📪 🕈☜ 💣🕆💧❄ ☼🕆☠ ✋❄ ❄☟☼⚐🕆☝☟ ✌ ❄☜💧❄📬" (IF THIS THEORY IS TO BE BELIEVED, WE MUST RUN IT THROUGH A TEST.)

Doctor being doctor, always wanting to experiment.

"..........?"

Good question asked by Shape.

"✋ 🏱☼⚐🏱⚐💧☜ ❄☟✌❄ 🕈☜ ✌☝☼☜☜ ❄⚐ ☼🕆☠ ❄☟✋💧 ☟🕆💣✌☠ ❄☟☼⚐🕆☝☟ ✌ 💧☜☼✋☜💧 ⚐☞ 💧❄☼☜💧💧 ❄☜💧❄💧📬 ☞☼⚐💣 🕈☟✌❄ ☹☜☝✋⚐☠ 👎☜💧👍☼✋👌☜👎📪 ☟☜☼ ☜💣⚐❄✋⚐☠✌☹ 💧❄✌❄☜ 💣✌✡ 🏱☹✌✡ ✌ ☼⚐☹☜ ✋☠ ❄☟✋💧 🕯❄🕆☼☠✋☠☝🕯 👌☜☟✌✞✋⚐☼📬 ✌☠✡ ⚐☞ 🕆💧 ❄☟✌❄ ☝☜❄ ❄⚐ ☟🕆☠❄ ☟☜☼ ☠☜✠❄ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 🕆💧☜ ❄☟☜ 💧❄☼✌☠☝☜ ☼✌👎✋🕆💧 ❄⚐ ☞✋☠👎 ☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 💣✌😐☜ ❄☟✋☠☝💧 ✌💧 ✋☼☼✋❄✌❄✋☠☝ ✌💧 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📬" (I PROPOSE THAT WE AGREE TO RUN THIS HUMAN THROUGH A SERIES OF STRESS TESTS. FROM WHAT LEGION DESCRIBED, HER EMOTIONAL STATE MAY PLAY A ROLE IN THIS 'TURNING' BEHAVIOR. ANY OF US THAT GET TO HUNT HER NEXT SHOULD USE THE STRANGE RADIUS TO FIND HER AND MAKE THINGS AS IRRITATING AS POSSIBLE.)

Toxicity works on both ends of this twisted game.

"What of the other Survivors, deary? Surely they won't let a fellow human go attacked for very long."

Crud, a flaw pointed out by Plague.

"*scoff* those idiots? after that trial and the stunt she pulled, they're going to be looking for reasons to let her get hooked."

A very sad but true fact stated by Legion.

"✌☹☹ ❄☟☜ 👌☜❄❄☜☼ ☞⚐☼ ❄☟✋💧 🏱☹✌☠📬 🕈✋❄☟ ☟☜☼ ❄☜✌💣 ☞🕆☼❄☟☜☼ ✋💧⚐☹✌❄✋☠☝ ☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 🕈✋❄☟ 🕆💧 💣✌😐✋☠☝ ❄☟✋☠☝💧 👎✋☞☞✋👍🕆☹❄📪 ✋❄ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ 👌☜ ❄⚐⚐ ☟✌☼👎 ❄⚐ 💣✌😐☜ ☟☜☼ 💧☠✌🏱 🕆☠👎☜☼ ❄☟☜ 🏱☼☜💧💧🕆☼☜📬" (ALL THE BETTER FOR THIS PLAN. WITH HER TEAM FURTHER ISOLATING HER AND WITH US MAKING THINGS DIFFICULT, IT SHOULDN'T BE TOO HARD TO MAKE HER SNAP UNDER THE PRESSURE.)

Cue the dramatic evil music score followed by the rumblings of thunder and lighting.

"Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! That punk is going down!"

Huntress needs very little reason to hunt humans.

"oH! hAG have question!"

A simple one is the Hag, questioning things is her specialty.

"Yes? Tra la la."

"WhaT happENS when the hooman sNaps?"

Not a bad question really.

"The darling does bring up a fair point. If and when the human does crack, what then?"

As curious as he is, Ghost Face is a cautious one and thinks ahead when it comes to his methods.

"don't know. i didn't let things get that far. she was hurting herself to make it stop when i stabbed her."

The mystery continues to mystify.

"☟💣💣💣📬📬📬❄☟☜☠ 🕈☜ 👎⚐ ☟✌✞☜ ✌ 💧💣✌☹☹ 👍☹🕆☜ ✌💧 ❄⚐ 🕈☟✌❄ ❄⚐ 👎⚐ ✋☞ 💧☟☜ 👌☜👍⚐💣☜💧 ✌ 🏱☼⚐👌☹☜💣📬 💧☜☹☞ 🏱✌✋☠ 👎☜☹✌✡💧 ❄☟✋💧 🕯❄🕆☼☠✋☠☝🕯 👌🕆❄ ✋❄🕯💧 ☠⚐❄ ✌💧 💧❄☼⚐☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☼🕆☜ ☟✌☼💣☞🕆☹ ✋☠❄☜☠❄📬 ❄☟☜☼☜☞⚐☼☜📬📬📬✋☞ ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠ 👎⚐☜💧 ✋☠👎☜☜👎 💧☠✌🏱📪 🕈☜ ✌☼☜ ❄⚐ 💣⚐☠✋❄⚐☼ ☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 ☹☜✌☼☠ 🕈☟✌❄ ❄☟✋💧 💧❄✌❄☜ 💣☜✌☠💧 ☞⚐☼ 🕆💧📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 ✋☞ 💧☟☜ 👌☜👍⚐💣☜💧 ✌☠ ✋💧💧🕆☜ ❄☟☜☠ 👌✡ ✌☹☹ 💣☜✌☠💧 👎⚐ 🕈☟✌❄ ✋❄ ❄✌😐☜💧 ❄⚐ 😐☠⚐👍😐 ☟☜☼ 👌✌👍😐 ✋☠❄⚐ ☟☜☼ ☠⚐☼💣✌☹ 💧❄✌❄☜📬 👎⚐☜💧 ❄☟✋💧 💧⚐🕆☠👎 ☼☜✌💧⚐☠✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☼☜💧❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆✍" (HMMM...THEN WE DO HAVE A SMALL CLUE AS TO WHAT TO DO IF SHE BECOMES A PROBLEM. SELF PAIN DELAYS THIS 'TURNING' BUT IT'S NOT AS STRONG AS TRUE HARMFUL INTENT. THEREFORE...IF THE HUMAN DOES INDEED SNAP, WE ARE TO MONITOR HER AND LEARN WHAT THIS STATE MEANS FOR US. HOWEVER, IF SHE BECOMES AN ISSUE THEN BY ALL MEANS DO WHAT IT TAKES TO KNOCK HER BACK INTO HER NORMAL STATE. DOES THIS SOUND REASONABLE TO THE REST OF YOU?)

A general sound of acceptance is let out. It's settled.

"hey!"

Oh? Seems something is still on Legion's mind.

"let's get something straight before any of you get ideas when dealing with her. she's mine. so don't go thinking you can have any fun times with her."

This declaration gets their attention.

"Yours?"

Hillbilly is befuddled.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO CLAIM OBSESSION RIGHTS TO THE NEW MEAT?"

Trapper sneers.

"trying to claim? no. i already staked it. i sliced my name into her chest. that human belongs to me."

Obsession rights are not easy to get among killers. Currently, only three had them. Shape claimed the human named Laurie, Nightmare claimed the human named Quentin, and Pig claimed the human named Tapp. They were able to do this because they were brought here along with said humans. Sure, other humans have been brought from spots where the killers came from, but this didn't count as there is no direct affiliation. Legion would have to make a very strong case to pass this before the others.

"Did he just say...?"

Cannibal can't even finish.

"You cocky little shit!"

Ghost Face grabs Legion and pins him against a wall.

"What gives you the right to mark the human before bringing up your claim? Do you want me to kick your ass?"

Before things escalate, Shape comes and parts them from each other.

".........."

"But he broke the rules!"

"....."

Ghost Face huffs in annoyance and backs off, leading to Shape turning to Legion.

".........?"

"don't make it sound like something it's not. she's just a quirky human that happened to make killing more interesting. that's it. marking her was a heat of the moment thing. but i figured, what the hell, this might lead to more fun in the future. so i did it."

".............?"

"*scoff* please. don't give me that crap. if you three can handle your unwilling toys, then i should have no trouble with a plaything that actually will play back."

".......?"

"what? no, i'm not going to stalk her. why would i?"

"See?! He can't even fill the role! His claim for obsession rights are trash!"

Ghost Face is clearly sour over this as stalking prey is kind of his thing. Shape is also a stalking killer, as is Nightmare and somewhat Pig. Hell, nearly all of them were stalkers in some way or another except for a few that couldn't help but make very obvious noise without the help of add-ons to quiet them down.

"geez, man. what crawled up your dress to make you such a bitch?"

"This isn't a dress! It's a shroud! For the killer that needs concealment, but craves attention. Black fabrics help give cover, white glossy textures provide fashionable accents. The long jacket helps to keep the rest of the clothes dry as blood splashes with each stab of the knife."

"whatever, weirdo."

"Fuck you!"

Aggravated with the both of them, Nurse slaps them both on the back of the head as a ticked off mom would do.

"Both of you quit this nonsensical squabbling. Honestly...Half the time I cannot tell you apart from babbling children whining over who took the last cookie from the jar."

"But he..."

"No buts. What is done is done. If Legion has marked his claim, I think he should keep it."

Nurse's words take a few back, though none could see the cunning smirk hidden behind that clothe hood.

"What say you, little man? Can you show us that your bite is as strong as your bark and actually do as you claim? Or will you prove the naysayers right by continuing to boast like a pitiful whelp starving for attention?"

Legion snarls.

"i am so sick of everyone talking down to me like i'm some sort of joke. well, you know what? fuck you! fuck all of you! i'm just as ruthless as you assholes, if not more so! i don't need your stinking approval. that human is mine. and i'm going to show you all that i'm not to be fucked with!"

Legion shows that he's a mature person by storming out of there like a fed-up kid going to brood in their room.

"You didn't have to goad him like that. Tra la la. You know how unpredictable he can be."

Nurse shrugs dismissively at Wraith.

"Funny. Because he reacted just as I predicted. Like a child."

"N-Now that he's gone, c-can we discuss his claim p-properly?"

Fairly asked by Pig.

"IF THE RUNT THINKS HE CAN HANDEL THINGS LIKE A MAN, THEN FUCK IT. LET HIM TRY. IT'LL BE HILARIOUS WHEN HE FAILS. AND IT'S NOT LIKE IT'LL ITERFER WITH US IN ANY WAY."

Ghost Face is not taking this line of talk from Trapper well.

"You can't be serious? What if I went out and claimed a human as my obsession? How would you react to that?"

"I'D BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU AND TAKE YOUR OFFERINGS."

"But...That's hypocrisy! Why can he get away with it and not me?!"

Trapper growls lowly.

"FOR ONE, HE'S BEEN HERE LONGER THAN YOU. YOU'VE BEEN HERE FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS WORTH OF FEEDING CYCLES WHEREAS THIS WILL BE HIS NINTH. SECOND, YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A TERRITORY WHERE YOU CAN CONDUCT YOUR BUSINESS. YOU'VE BEEN LOITERING IN ALL OF OURS LIKE SOME BUM. AND THIRD, IT'S NOT AMUSING WHEN YOU FAIL. YOU ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND ENJOY IT. HIM ON THE OTHER HAND...?"

Trapper folds his arms and shuts his eyes.

"LEGION MIGHT HAVE BEEN CHOSEN BY THE ENTITY, BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN HE'S A NATURAL KILLER."

Ghost Face is confused.

"What do you mean?"

"*SIGH* IT'S LIKE SPIRIT SAID, JUST LOOK AT US. WE DON'T LOOK LIKE THIS FOR NO REASON. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TRY TO REFUSE THE ENTITY'S OFFER OF SERVITUDE. IT DOESN'T TAKE REJECTION WELL."

"*cough* Typical woman. *hack*"

Clown is glared at venomously by the females for that.

"MY POINT BEING, SOME OF US ARE HERE BECAUSE THIS IS LIKE A PARADISE. ENDLESS SLAUGHTER AND NO REAL CONSEQUENCES. SO YOU PROBABLY TOOK TO IT WITH NO ISSUE. BUT FOR THE REST OF US, THE ONES THAT SAID NO AT THE START...WELL...YOU SEE WHY WE THEN SAID YES WHEN ASKED AGAIN."

"But what does that have to do with him?"

"BECAUSE HE SAID NO TO ALL THIS. HE MAY KILL BUT IT'S NOT SOMETHING HE WANTS TO DO. HE HAS TO DO IT. HE HAS TO PROVE HIMSELF. TO THE ENTITY, TO US, AND HIMSELF. IT SHOWS THAT HE KNOWS HE CAN DO BETTER. I RESPECT THAT DRIVE EVEN IF HE'S A LITTLE SHIT. AND AS ENTERTAINING AS IT IS TO SEE HIM FAIL, I'D BE LYING IF I SAID I WASN'T LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING HIM SUCCEED."

This doesn't seem to help Ghost Face at all.

"So just because I'm new, good at my job, and like it, I don't get to have the same rights as that jackass? That's bullshit!"

"NOT TO MENTION, YOU'RE ALSO A WHINY LITTLE BITCH THAT PISSES ME OFF."

"Fuck you!"

The sudden sound of bone on metal bashes when Trapper rushes over and punches Ghost Face's face, knocking the shrouded killer across the room.

"KNOW YOUR PLACE, NEWBIE. YOU WANT RIGHTS? RESPECT? POWER? THEN FUCKING EARN IT! DON'T BITCH ABOUT LIKE YOU'RE ENTITLED. TAKE TIME TO PROVE YOU SHOULD AND THEN WE'LL TALK."

Ghost Face sneers yet relents...for now. He'll have to bide his time and find some other way to play things his way.

"Um...Other than this stuff, are there any other matters that need to be brought up? Tra la la."

Wraith queries to which Huntress raises her ax up high.

"Oh! I have noticed the signs of an upcoming Blood Hunt."

"Hmmm...Tra la la...This is twice now one has come around All Hallows' Eve."

"☟⚐🕈 ✌🏱🏱☼⚐🏱☼✋✌❄☜📬 💧☜☜✋☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☟☜ ☟✌☹☹⚐🕈☜👎 👌☹✋☝☟❄ ✋💧 ❄☟☜☠ ✌💧 🕈☜☹☹📬" (HOW APPROPRIATE. SEEING AS THE HALLOWED BLIGHT IS THEN AS WELL.)

This gets some odd looks from Plague and Ghost Face.

"I will explain. Once a year for two weeks worth of feedings, the Entity undergoes a purge. During this period, the Entity is infested with blight. The cankers bloom into a strange type of flower that spurts putrid nectar. A thick fluid that oozes like pus from infected wounds."

Nurse explains.

"YOU FORGET THAT IT'S ALSO THE TIME WHERE THOSE OTHER ASSHOLES LIKE TO MESS WITH US. FUCKING HUMANS."

Trapper spits venomously.

"How are the humans trouble during that time, deary?"

"✋☞ ✡⚐🕆 ❄☟✋☠😐 ✋🕯💣 ❄🕈✋💧❄☜👎📪 ❄☟☜☼☜ ✌☼☜ ❄🕈⚐ ☟🕆💣✌☠ 💣✌☹☜💧 ❄☟✌❄ 🏱🕆❄ 💣☜ ❄⚐ 💧☟✌💣☜📬 ❄☟☜✡ ☟✌✞☜ ☜☹🕆👎☜👎 🕆💧 ✌☠👎 ☜✞☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ☞⚐☼ ✈🕆✋❄☜ 💧⚐💣☜ ❄✋💣☜📬 ❄☟☜ 👍☹☜✞☜☼ 👌✌💧❄✌☼👎💧 ☹✋😐☜ ❄⚐ 👌☜ ☜✞☜☠ 👌⚐☹👎☜☼ ❄☟✌☠ ☹☜☝✋⚐☠ ✌☠👎 ✌👌👎🕆👍❄ 💧⚐💣☜ ⚐☞ 🕆💧📬" (IF YOU THINK I'M TWISTED, THERE ARE TWO HUMAN MALES THAT PUT ME TO SHAME. THEY HAVE ELUDED US AND EVEN THE ENTITY FOR QUITE SOME TIME. THE CLEVER BASTARDS LIKE TO BE EVEN BOLDER THAN LEGION AND ABDUCT SOME OF US.)

That's something they weren't expecting to hear.

"✋❄ 💧☜☜💣💧 ❄☟☜💧☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ☟✌✞☜ 💣✌👎☜ 💧⚐💣☜❄☟✋☠☝ ☞☼⚐💣 ❄☟✋💧 👌☹✋☝☟❄☜👎 🏱🕆💧💧📬 ✌ 🏱🕆❄☼✋👎 💧☜☼🕆💣📬 ❄☟✋💧 💧☜☼🕆💣📪 👍✌🕆💧☜💧 🕆💧 ❄⚐ 💣🕆❄✌❄☜ 🕈☟☜☠ ✋☠☺☜👍❄☜👎 🕈✋❄☟ ✋❄📬 ❄☟✌☠😐☞🕆☹☹✡📪 ❄☟✋💧 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹ 💣🕆❄✌❄✋⚐☠ ☹✌💧❄💧 ⚐☠☹✡ ✌💧 ☹⚐☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☟☜ 👌☹✋☝☟❄ ✋❄💧☜☹☞ ☞⚐☼ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡📬" (IT SEEMS THESE HUMANS HAVE MADE SOMETHING FROM THIS BLIGHTED PUSS. A PUTRID SERUM. THIS SERUM, CAUSES US TO MUTATE WHEN INJECTED WITH IT. THANKFULLY, THIS PAINFUL MUTATION LASTS ONLY AS LONG AS THE BLIGHT ITSELF FOR THE ENTITY. )

"Who's been blighted before?"

To this question, five hands are put up. Trapper, Wraith, Hillbilly, Doctor, and Huntress.

"*cough* To their credit. It's not like they haven't tried on the rest of us. *wheeze* Nurse nearly got the stuff but only was messed up a little bit. *hack*"

"I had a pumpkin for a head. I would not call that a little messed up."

So this is a thing. A thing that no one thought they'd picture.

"Should we tell Legion about this? The dear is also not one that knows of this event or it's hassles."

"NAH. HE'LL FIND OUT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER."

"With that said, is there any further business in need of addressing? Tra la la."

No one has anything further after all of that.

"Very well. Tra la la. Meeting adjourned."

*CLANG-CLANG*

With that, Wraith vanishes and takes its leave among the other killers.

[Elsewhere: Survivor Campsite]

"'ow she doin'?"

David asks Claudette and Quentin, both of whom are tending to Lynsie who inexplicably collapsed after returning from the last trial.

"It's odd. There are no signs of anything physically wrong with her. Yet she seems to be suffering from Hypovolemia, a state of decreased intravascular volume. This may be due to either a loss of both salt and water or, the more likely culprit, a decrease in blood volume."

Claudette's so smart. It's no wonder she's the top healer of the group.

"She mentioned that Legion 'ad a bit of fun with 'er. Probably roughed 'er up pretty good. But the Entity should've fixed that. Right? The damn thing always does when we finish trial."

"I was thinking about that..."

Now for Quentin's evil theory of the day!

"From what Dwight said, the Entity was turning her into a killer. And from what we've found in those pages of Benedict Baker's journal, the Entity will punish killers that either don't perform well or downright refuse it. I think this was her punishment, a small warning, for refusing the Entity."

"And just 'ow would the big nasty in the sky know that?"

"Because that son of a bitch is everywhere."

Detective Tapp joins in on the conversion.

"I've been looking at this place like I would a crime scene. Trying to make some sense of things. It ain't easy. But some things are and the Red Stain is one of them."

"'ow do you figure that, ol' man?"

"Boy, I will slap you if you call me that again."

David rolls his eyes.

"Now from what I've gathered, I suspect that the intensity of the Stain is directly linked to the range of the Terror Radius the Killer has, meaning that Killers with a shorter Terror Radius have a fainter Stain and Killers with a larger Terror Radius have a stronger Stain."

"Makes sense so far."

"I also suspect that the Stain works as means for the Entity to watch over the trials directly through the Killer's eyes. An indication of this being the case is the of that Killer ability Beast of Prey, as the Stain is gone because the Killer momentarily loses their connection to the Entity and is free to roam due to their bloodlust being so strong."

"So the moment her eyes made the Stain..."

"The Entity knew. Probably saw through Legion's eyes why it wasn't working on her. Nutty kid for thinking she could fight off something like the Entity."

"Then what do we do?"

A not wild Dwight appears.

"About her I mean."

The group looks at the unconscious member with uncertainty.

"As much as I hate to agree with Nea, she does make a point. If at any moment for any reason a team member can suddenly start attacking the team, that does make her a liable threat."

Claudette makes a point.

"But it wasn't for just any reason. She only snapped because she was angry. Angry that we didn't even treat her like she was on the team."

Dwight says somberly.

"*scoff* Severs you fuckers right then. It's about time there was somethin' to put douchebags in there place around 'ere."

Judgmental eyes are cast onto David.

"What?"

"You have an annoying habit of trying to fight the monsters."

"So?"

"You end up dying 96% of the time."

"'ey, you 'ave the respect my 4% chance of doin' anythin'."

"Maybe if it was actually helpful."

"Says the twat that spends 'is 'elpful time 'indin' in lockers."

"Hey!"

"Will you both shut it. You're bickering isn't helping anyone."

Dwight huffs and David mutters curses under his breath.

"So getting back to the point, we've covered the whole she'll hulk out when angry. But what do we do when she does get in smash mode?"

Quentin's age really shows sometimes.

"The kid makes a good point. A silly one, but a point none the less."

"Thanks?"

"But what do we do if she does become a killer? It's not like we can take down a normal monster."

"The same thing we do to every other monster..."

Nea shouts.

"Bash them over the head with pallets!"

Nea's guide to toxicity rule #1: If there is a chance to smack something with a pallet, do it!

"Yeah...No. That just pisses people off more."

"We're lookin' for ways to not make 'er mad. I think bein' bashed in the 'ead contradicts that."

Nea folds her arms uncaring.

"I don't care if it makes her mad. The goal is to make what's chasing you stop the chase."

"By pissin' them off even more?"

"It's called tactical frustration, dingus! You make the other person so mad that they want nothing to do with you anymore."

"So bein' a cunt?"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you."

*CROWS CAW*

Fluttering shadows morph from the trees and scatter across the ever glowing gloom of the sky. This garners attention above all other matters.

"The crows..."

"Damn it! The Entity was listenin'."

"It's always listening, dork. It just normally doesn't care about what it hears."

"It cared now."

Meg interjects.

"The real question is...Why?"

"In my experience, it's never a good thing for when a supernatural interdimensional elder god takes interest in anything human-related."

Ash rings in with blunt truth. When something beyond human understanding meddles in human affairs it rarely ends without great suffering of some kind. But who would suffer? One of them? All of them? Humans? Monsters? Who bloody well knows?! That's the terrifying aspect of it. Fate's unpredictability.

[Elsewhere: The Void]

My eyes slowly open to fog. Nothing but dark thick fog. The kind of fog that doesn't just blind you but fucks with your other senses. There's this weird floating feeling even though I know I'm touching the ground. Or what I assume is ground. It's something solid and I just choose to believe its ground because I don't want to think of what it could be otherwise. The air has no smell to it, it's dull and messes with my nose. It even has a faint charred smoky taste to it like you've just licked some burnt charcoal. And as for sound, there is none. There's nothing but this weird dead silence that is just eerie enough that I can sense something is around but again all there is quiet. Moving around to explore is not an option. Not that I can't move, I just choose not to because fuck you, I don't want to be automatically killed by unknown danger like the last time I went off into obvious danger zones.

[The Entity sees that you are learning, little worm. No longer running off into the unknown. Very wise.]

Well, that doesn't make me feel better about the situation.

"Look, I'm not gonna beat around the bush here. You can easily mess me up in ways I probably wouldn't begin to think of just for giggles and I'm not dumb enough to piss you off to do so. So in the bluntest way I can think of asking...What the fraggle happened to me and where/why am I here, oh mighty Entity?"

My attitude started to kick in near the end so I figured a little cuteness will keep me from being turned inside out or something else fucked up.

[My, the Entity forgets how bothersome you worms can be. It is no wonder why we do not speak so often. But it is understandable that a worm would be confused by what the Entity does.]

It is at this moment that I come to believe the Entity speaks in the third person and yet in a way that is still grammatically fitting. I guess ego is next to godliness.

[You, you odd and yet interesting little worm, are a strange creature even by what the Entity knows. The Entity has brought you here so that things would be...well...less of a hassle.]

"Sounds reasonable so far. Yet where is HERE exactly?"

[This is the Void. Or that is what you worms tend to call it. It is a different plane of existence. A place where the Entity stores the broken worms that are no longer of any use.]

I remember being told about this place. The Survivors that have given up and lost all hope end up here as they aren't useful food anymore. That explains the feelings this place is giving me.

"Wow. One trial and you deem me Void worthy? Must be a record."

This earns it a bit of a laugh.

[Amusing. No, little worm, you have not warranted a spot of permanence here...yet. The Entity has brought you here for two reasons. The first, to tell you of your role and personal skills in this delicious game. The second will come later.]

I got skillz!

[These skills or Perks are abilities that the Entity is generous enough to allow you to have. Each side is given three, so you worms are just as capable as the beasts. You may choose to share these perks with the other worms or keep them to yourself and hone them to make yourself better. The choice is yours and yours alone.]

So I can either be a decent person and increase the whole team's chances of living or I can be a dick.

[Your first perk is named after that clever move you pulled in the trial...Snowball's Chance.]

This orange diamond or square standing on its points pops up in front of me and it depicts a glob being thrown.

[Snowball's Chance: Activatable Perk. While within the Killer's Terror Radius and in a Chase for 45 seconds activates Snowball's Chance. Once Snowball's Chance is activated, you may be able to scoop whatever you can grab from the ground to throw at or away from the Killer. Choosing the away option will create a loud noise notification for the Killer at a distance of 10/15/20 meters and provides a helpful distraction provided the Killer goes for it. Choosing the at Killer option, if hit in the face, will momentarily blind them as well as stun them, whereas a normal body hit merely provides a stun. Snowball's Chance deactivates once it has been used.]

"That...sounds badass."

Honestly, it kind of feels like an RGP game where I made up a move for my character and some game developer thought it was just cool enough to put the character/move into their game. I'm a fucking nerd and love this shit! The image in the diamond changes to a pic of me crawling with a sneaky grin.

[The second perk is called...Skulker's Instinct.]

Sounds ominous.

[Skulker's Instinct: Always Active Perk. Years of isolation and distrust have taught you a thing about the benefits of paranoia. You crawl close to the floor instead of crouching, this prevents you from leaving Scratch Marks and gives you faster movement speed compared to crouching by 90/95/100%. This level of stealth allows you to avoid alerting Crows but does spook other Survivors if you bump into them, making them yelp and alerting the Killer. Also, if injured, you know better than to make a sound, you hold in the sounds of pain for the first time at least. Any future injuries will cause you to whimper.]

"I suppose that's fair. And I can be creepy as hell, so the random spooking seems about right."

[The third perk is quite delightful. It is called...Breaking Point.]

That one doesn't sound so good and the image of me looking unhinged doesn't help either.

[Breaking Point: Triggered Perk. Due to your mental toughness, you can handle most stressful situations that would cripple a normal person. But you are only human and even you have a limit where things start to get under your skin. The more your team screws around and the Killer attacks you or hinders your progress, the frustrating stress will begin to pile on until you can take it no longer. Resentment Tier I: Your annoyance level begins to grow, you are more agitated and on your guard. Your speed is reduced by 15% and preforming Skill Checks gets hard to do. Resentment Tier II: All effects of Tier I. The continued stress is not helping you, you can not trust your teammates with even the simplest task and the Killer is not making matters better either. Your frustration makes performing Skill Checks extremely difficult as you are not as focused. You aren't sure how much more you can take. Resentment Tier III: All effects of Tier II. You can no longer take it. Everyone is against you. They want you to die. You have no choice. You must kill or be killed!]

This has me disturbed, to say the least.

"Uh..."

[Which leads into your special ability. The Entity has dubbed it...The Anomaly State.]

"Special ability?"

[Yes, special ability. All Killers have one.]

I'm not liking this anymore.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...Whoa! I am no killer."

[Oh sure. And what you did to Jake was merely some aggressive affection.]

"I didn't want to hurt him!"

[Yes you did.]

"No. I didn't!"

[Yes, you did. You wanted to hurt him for disrespecting you and talking down to you like some lowly worm. And how dare he do such a thing. He does not know you or your hardships. He lived a life of wealth and comfort. How dare he talk to you like he is superior.]

I know what it's doing. It's trying to talk to me like it's on my side. Like it cares. Appealing to me to make me believe in this false sympathy. It is cruel and manipulative...I fucking hate that It's worming into my head!

[And Dwight...He thinks he is so clever, telling you bits and pieces but not whole truths. If he was not willing to tell you everything before, what makes you think he will tell you anything now? Now that he has seen the beast in you.]

It's getting to me. I'm growling softly and making fists.

[Let us not forget David. Surely even you can see that he is merely using you. Pretending to be interested in something more when all he wants is your body. Do you believe that he will remain friendly once he had taken what he has wanted?]

Stop it! Stop making so much sense!

[Face it, little worm. It is as you have always known. You can not rely on others. They have their own motives and desires. No one will help you out of innocence. There is always something others want from you and will do anything to get it. Even if those means include toying with your very heart.]

"And why should I believe you? You have your own motives too."

[That is true. Yet my motive is very clear and the Entity can not lie. The Entity gains no matter if the beasts or worms are successful. The Entity is neither your friend or foe, though you may believe otherwise.]

Damn it! I hate it when something obviously bad makes incredibly good points!

[Now, if you will allow the Entity to continue, the Entity will explain further.]

I bite my tongue. Nothing I say matters to this thing anyway. It's only humoring me for the time being.

[Each Killer has a very unique Power. Each is distinct and stands out from the others. You are no different...and yet you are. This is due to your soul.]

"My soul?"

[Yes. That soul of yours is not natural for one of your kind. It is...rather delectable.]

Creepy.

[But its oddness is why we are speaking and why the Entity sees fit in gifting you such rare power.]

Dare I ask?

"And what be this power that you would bestow upon me?"

It's freaky in how I can almost feel it smirk. The diamond thing changes to a gray square and now shows a split shot of my face. One side is normal. The other side is like Batman villain Twoface.

[Special Ability: Anomaly State. Upon Breaking Point's Resentment Tier III activation, you will undergo a notable mental breakdown and such a snap opens you up to the Entity. The touch of the Entity leaves burning scars and blisters of light. Is it a gift or a curse? That's up to you as you become the Corrupted Survivor. This tainted essence is always within you, giving off a radius that Killers can pick up on and use to track you down similar to the one you can hear to know when a Killer is close by. As the Corrupted Survivor, you only have one goal...Survive. Your team is a liability, holding you down and keeping you in harm's way. Killing them will increase your odds of making it out alive. The fewer there are, the fewer things they can get in the way of. These actions will please the Entity but the real Killer might not be happy about you stealing its prey. True Killers can still attack and kill you in this state, so even they are just another obstacle in your way. You can not kill a Killer. But you can incapacitate them for a short time and allowing you to finish what you have started. Taking down a Killer grants you immeasurable Bloodlust, making your movement speed increase to 10.0 m/s and letting you see the auras of any remaining Survivors for 3 seconds.]

Not gonna lie, that both is blood-chilling and thrilling at the same time.

[However...]

Oh?

[Just as there are ways to trigger this False Killer state, there are ways to prevent and reverse you back to normal. So long as your team performs as you think they should and do not mess up often, Breaking Point will not activate. If Breaking Point is activated and only at Tier I, the effects can be undone by your team avoiding injuring for 2 minutes or repairing 1 generator. If Breaking Point is activated and at Tier II, your team will need to do better by avoiding damage for 4 minutes or repairing 2 generators. If Breaking Point is activated and at Tier III, Anomaly State will activate. If Anomaly State is active, your team can try to revert you to normal by either proving their worth in doing tasks needed to escape or cause you enough pain to regain some clarity. Proving their worth can be done by restoring generators, healing teammates, hindering the real Killer, and unlocking the gates. Clarity through pain is done by blinding with flashlights, being stunned with pallet drops, being disoriented by firecrackers, and being stabbed by carried victims. If Anomaly State is undone, there is a cooldown time of 4 minutes before Breaking Point can trigger again. Killers can also use pain to revert you to normal, with enough damage from clashing with the real Killer you will be back to being just another piece of meat waiting to be hooked.]

The square thing disappears but not the imprint of what has just been told to me. I am now a living version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. At any point in a trial, I can be driven into such rage that I will start to kill my team.

[What say you, little worm? Do you like the gifts the Entity has given you?]

Don't be a smartass. This is basically a god you're dealing with. Pissing it off will only add more salt and acid to this wound I call existence. Though it could do without the condescending tone.

"Though I'm not sure why you've done so, I am flattered you've went to such trouble. Thank you, oh mighty Entity."

Why is it now that I realize I'm talking to a voice in my head? And why does it feel normal? I am strangely okay with this and I am not okay with that.

[Good. Very good. The Entity appreciates this version of you. Perhaps you are now more willing to play by the rules and will not have to be punished for very long.]

This confuses me.

"I'm sorry?"

[Oh, you will be. There are consequences for disobedience, little worm. And the Entity does not like it when others try to deny that which is meant to be.]

The ground beneath me rumbles for a moment before I lose my balance and end up impaled through the gut by something that has my heart stop. A spidery-like claw is jutting from my insides and weirdly enough there is no blood. Yet there is pain. Lots and lots of pain! My roar is harsh and hurts my throat. But the claw is merely the beginning. The ground pushes up more and more claws protrude out, making like I'm in the palm of a massive hand.

"Holy shit..."

The claws crush around me, twisting my torso to the side and pointing me up towards what I guess is a sky.

[You will be a good little worm and embrace the power given to you.]

"Yes! I swear I'll be good!"

The claws tighten, my bones ache in pain, and the claw coming out of me twitches slowly down to etch its tip against my head.

[And you will no longer harm yourself.]

"I promise! I promise!"

[Good girl.]

The claw's tip beings to force itself into my skull.

[While you do say the needed things, the Entity believes you should still learn from your defiance. It will be some time before your body regenerates the blood you lost during the trial and allow you to fully wake up. So till then, the Entity will happily make sure you know just how things work here. Your first lesson, what happens when you bring the displeasure of refusal and failure to please the Entity.]

It inches painfully deeper into my brain. My howls are deafening yet have no echo in this place, the fog damping all sound.

[Yes. Wail all you like. Suffering adds such flavor to the soul. And the fear...Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear. Truly it is the spice of life. You worms all taste so much better when you are afraid.]

This is merely the beginning of a very long and agonizingly drawn-out torture. Since this is basically my spirit/mind in this Void, any harm done is all going to further fuck over my mental health and probably going to make it easier to break when under similar stress. All I know is I'm not coming out of this unscathed.

(UNKNOWN AMOUNT OF TIME LATER)

With a loud gasp and violent bolt upright, I finally cast my eyes on something other than the claws of the Entity exploring new ways of doing awful things to me. My body is shaking. Ears ringing. And there's a searing burn coming from my chest. My senses are so dull that once I register that there's something on my shoulder I throw myself halfway across the camp in fear that the claws have come back and I hold myself in sheer fright. Of course that's not really the case. It was just David. Yet this does little to calm my panicking heart and rapid breathing.

"Whoa now. Take it easy, Luv. It's only me."

He takes a few steps towards me before stopping at the blocking arm of Jane.

"Oi, what's your deal?"

"Look at her. She needs a moment. Just give her a bit of space before you go over there."

He grumbles to himself but listens to the woman. Allowing me to regain some semblance of normality. My brain catches up to what is really around me and very slowly settles down from the adrenaline that comes from being fucking terrorized by the Entity for who knows how long. Speaking of which...

"H-How long?"

Did...Did my voice just crack? Geez, I'm messed up if I can't even control that basic function.

"How long what?"

Laurie comes near but keeps a fair distance from me.

"How long was I gone?"

This question has them looking at me funny. I don't like how they're looking at me.

"Gone?"

"Luv, you never left camp."

Granted, they have no clue what I meant by "gone". Still, telling me anything else like "we're not sure" or a number of trials that went by while I slept would be much better. Instead, this dumb answer feels like they're talking to me like a child and it pisses me off.

"Don't talk down to me and tell me how long I've been out!"

My head throbs, both in lingering pain and frustration.

"A while..."

Adam's input is made.

"At least ten or so trials past since you blacked out."

Okay, but what does that mean? A day? Two days? A week? Why haven't these numbnuts found a way to measure time?!

"Too long...Too god damn long..."

I move to stand but find my legs a bit wobbly. Claudette brings a medkit over.

"Try not to move around too fast or so much. You don't want to hurt yourself."

I huff a slight snarl.

"Don't waste that kit. Just teach me Self-Care so I can take care of myself."

Her face, among the others, is shocked.

"How do you know about...?"

"Your Perks?"

I cut her off merely to shut her up so I can explain. Otherwise, we'll be here playing 20 Questions till trial starts.

"I know your Perks. I know ALL of your Perks. It wouldn't let me leave without knowing everything. Forcing each and every bit of information you all failed to tell me so deep into my skull that I'm sure it erased what little childhood memories I had left to do so."

I point at her.

"Your three Perks are Botany Knowledge, Empathy, and Self-Care."

"I don't understand. We never told you..."

"Are you ignoring me or just stupid? It told me EVERYTHING. The Entity told me the things none of you ever bothered to. Like seeing Auras, Scratch Marks, Add-ons, Sabotaging Hooks, Cleansing Totems, and some weird-ass shit called the Bloodweb. Which, by the way, thank you all for being so nice in telling me. It really means a lot that you are all so nice and caring. Oh, wait, no you're not. You're all a bunch of bastards!"

My head pangs harder. A foreboding sense of dread tingles my spine.

"Easy now. Please calm down."

Dwight's voice seems almost distantly muffled in my ears.

"I know you're upset. But you don't need to get worked up over it."

This almost has me seeing red.

"Worked up? You haven't seen worked up. This isn't me upset. This is me after the Entity has had it's fun! Punishing me. Doing god awful things to me...Being killed by the monsters is a dream compared to the nightmare I suffered!"

Nea scoffs.

"Geez. Overly dramatic much?"

My eye twitches and the pain in my head is getting worse. I roar out in agonizing discomfort.

"Stop it! Stop pissing me off! I can't control the beast at Tier III!"

The mentioning of something like a tier gets attention. Though my throbbing head isn't helping me in trying to concentrate. Suddenly, mostly because the pain made my eyes shut, David surprises me by grabbing hold of my face and forcing me to lock eyes with him.

"Look at me. Ignore them, Luv. I got you. Block everythin' else that ain't me. Do that for me, Luv. I know you can."

His eyes. Dark brown and intense yet soft. Why can't I look away?

"That's my girl. Focus on this mug of mine and know it's gonna be okay."

It takes a moment before I regain the memory to blink. In this state, it's easy to get lost in those eyes of his. His smirk is also strangely reassuring.

"Heh. Trippy."

"What?"

"Did you know that your eyes change color?"

"Yeah. Not sure why or when it happens."

"They were kinda red-orange before and now dullin' to light brown."

"Normally they're ether light brown, hazel, light green, or some mix of those. Any other color is rare and just tends to happen."

He smiles.

"So...Feelin' better?"

"A little bit."

"Anythin' I can do to make that little bit bigger?"

I bite my tongue.

"Come on. You can tell me."

I start to blush.

"...Hug?"

He surprised yet I'm the one more shocked that he actually does it. His embrace has me feeling so weak. I tremble, wanting to give in and break down. To cry and let this pain out. But I don't. I won't let myself be so open. Not around them. Not even him.

"'ow about now?"

I just nod against him.

"Do you...I don't know...Wanna talk about stuff?"

[You may choose to share these Perks with the other worms or keep them to yourself and hone them to make yourself better. The choice is yours and yours alone.]

The Entity's words come back to me like a whisper on the wind. Part of me really wants to make them suffer as I have. But I don't want to be like them.

"Okay...But only because there's important stuff to tell you guys."

"Do you want me to stay by your side?"

"...Maybe."

He merely chuckles and musses up my hair playfully. While it is true, what the Entity said about him is something I've thought of when it comes to David's intentions, he sadly is the only one at camp I trust. That and he's not that bad of a guy to be around even if his flirting can get a bit tiresome.

With little coaxing, the others gather around the fire as I tell them what the Entity told me. I do my best to explain my three perks. Though it's the special ability that interests them the most. And can I blame them? Now they have confirmation that a team member can become a killer and attack them if things aren't going so well. It's a downright terrifying idea. One that I'm sure the Entity loves. Still, even though I am telling them these things, I refuse to share with them just how to use my perks for themselves. My faith in these people is nearly non-existent, not including David who's the one keeping me sane after all this crap. Plus, I'd rather understand these perks better myself before passing anything along to them. Frankly, the only ones they could use would be Snowball's Chance and Skulker's Instinct. Breaking Point would be useless to them as it serves no purpose other than to trigger my killer side which is exclusively a me thing. However, my reluctance to share my perks is not taken kindly.

"What kind of crap is this? You want us to share our perks but you won't share yours?!"

Feng beats Nea to the punch on being pissed off.

"I just found out about these things. Let me understand how they work."

"What's there to understand? You throw shit and you're stealthy. There. I did it for you."

Now Nea says her bit.

"If it's so simple then why can't you do it?"

Meg sticks up for me.

"Because fuck you, that's why."

"Cunt, would you shut up. Luv's not askin' for all our perks. Just one. And it ain't even yours."

David is right. I've only asked for one perk and it's Claudette's Self-Care. It unlocks the ability to heal yourself without a Med-Kit at 50% the normal Healing speed and increases the efficiency of Med-Kit self-heal by 10%, for Claudette herself this is 20%. I asked for this skill so that damage wouldn't bother me as much and trigger my killer side. But I guess assholes can't see the big picture what with their head being so far up their butts.

"Call me a cunt again, you Limey bastard! I fucking dare you!"

"And your lot wonders why the rest of the world hates ya."

I tug on David's ear and he whines.

"'ey, what was that for?"

"You don't need to keep throwing logs on her fire. Just ignore it and eventually the heat will die down."

He looks at me funny before draping his thick arm around my shoulders.

"Ah, Luv, 'ad we ever met outside of this place I don't think we'd go very far."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because you'd be tryin' to talk me out of fightin'. And me not bein' able to fight just ain't right."

I simply smirk.

"Fair enough. But...We'd still be cool otherwise, right?"

"A rockin' bird like you? Oh yeah. I'd be a right proper git to not be interested in keepin' you around."

"Heh. You're not such a bad bloke yourself, Scrappy-Doo."

"...I was goin' to say it's sexy when you use English, but you killed it by callin' me that cartoon dog."

"Yet the resemblance is uncanny."

"Hey!"

Oh right, Nea's still here and being annoying.

"Don't act like I'm not here."

"Nea, just stop it already."

Ace speaks up.

"The kid has a right to learn her skills before giving them away."

"Up yours, old man."

"Know what..."

Bill interjects.

"I seem to recall a time when you flat out told us to 'shove it' when we asked about your perks."

"Yeah...well...*scoff* Fine! Do whatever. I don't care anyway."

She storms away to be as far from the fire and me as possible without leaving the safety zone.

"Geez, she can be such a bummer for a kid."

Kate remarks as she tunes up her nice acoustic guitar. And that gets my attention.

"Um...Where did you get that from?"

She looks at the guitar.

"Oh, this? I bought it off the Entity."

I look at her funny.

"What?"

"Seems the Entity told up about the mechanics of trials but not the rewards for doing them."

Jake states with a tone that lets me know he's still ticked at me for getting him killed.

"What do you mean 'rewards'?"

Jeff clears his throat to get my attention.

"So the Entity told you about the Bloodweb, right? How that it uses Bloodpoints to get Add-ons and that you gain Bloodpoints during the Trials by performing certain actions."

Dear lord don't tell me it's another long as fuck exposition rant.

"Yeah?"

"Well, aside from Bloodpoints, there are two other forms of currency. Iridescent Shards and Auric Cells. Iridescent Shards can be used to bribe the Entity into gifting you a copy of someone else's perk but that's super expensive. Typically like 2,000 or 2,700 shards. Depends on the Entity's mood. Auric Cells are super rare and are a pain in the ass to collect, but they're worth it. With enough Auric Cells, the Entity will make things a lot more entertaining by letting us get new clothes and items that make living here just a bit more bearable. You get both these things in varying amounts as rewards for how well you did in Trials and you might not even know you have any if no one tells you about it, but you can check how much you have when you go into the Bloodweb."

I just stare at him and soak this in.

"And the cool part is, once you get these things, you can have them permanently. No need to re-get something if you've decided to change. Just think about it and pesto. New duds and stuff."

My brain is starting to fail at taking this information.

"You alright there, Luv?"

"Just...I can't seem to understand the logic of the Entity."

"Don't bother trying..."

Dwight chirps.

"We've been here for what feels like ages and we still have no clue when it comes to that thing."

"I just think it's a little weird. The Entity wants us to die so it can feed off of our souls. It wants us to be afraid of it and die. That's how it gets the best taste out of us. Yet it gives us a place to relax? Then grants us items of comfort? Granted, this is probably to make us last long as a source of food as the useless are sent to the Void. But still...If it can already pull people from different points in time and across other timelines, then why not amass a large city's worth of humans to compensate for any that break easily and not cater to the needs of said humans?"

I like to think this is a well thought out point. I mean, I don't understand beings of alternate realities nor do I claim to. But when I'm hungry, I don't go out to a restaurant and get only some water. Sure, drink enough water and eventually, you'll get full. Yet it's nothing compared to an all you can eat buffet. So why is it content with the few random stragglers that wander in? It doesn't make sense to me.

"It doesn't waste..."

Tapp mutters before hammering his fist into his palm.

"It doesn't waste us. It may feed on us slowly over time. But it will feed until there's nothing left. Like sucking the very last drops of juice out of the box."

"So then the longer we last and keep our hope up..."

Quentin needed to interject for some reason.

"The longer it can continue to feed on a smaller number of victims without too much effort or attention. Like a small-time crook getting away with petty crimes because of a larger more noticeable syndicate has the cops focus."

Could he not refer to his law enforcement career? We get it. You were a cop. That shit doesn't matter here, Tapp!

"You know, for a group of people that don't try to understand the Entity, you understand it more than you think when someone questions things."

Again, I like to think I make good points. And their expressions only further this thought.

"We can increase insights by exposing ourselves to lots of different ideas that might help us form new connections."

All eyes look at Nea who randomly spouted that rather insightful quote.

"What? I know shit too. Douche turds think I can't be smart or something?"

I would crack some remark if I gave a shit. Frankly, I'm sick of letting that bitch piss me off so easily. I should take the advice David and even myself gave earlier, ignore her. Ignore everything that ticks me off. I can't become a killer if I don't let things get to me.

"So..."

Claudette moves over to me.

"I know you told us how your perk works. But do you know if it's only applicable in trials?"

I merely tilt my head in confusion.

"Beg your pardon?"

"She means can you go nuts in camp."

Jake spits and I just shrug.

"No clue. As chatty as the Entity was, it didn't tell me that."

"Figures as much."

"Still, you can never be too safe. Best not get on my bad side."

Probably not the best thing to remotely joke about. Though David tries to play this tension off by yanking me into a headlock and nuggying me till I'm surly growling.

"Awww...Such a big bad killer you are. So threatenin' with that cute face."

"*snarls* Will you quit fucking with my hair?!"

"Oh? And what'cha gonna do about it, Luv?"

I bite his forearm yet he merely laughs. This leads into some mildly aggressive horseplay on both our parts. Despite the oddity that this interaction is it does serve to show that while I am now a threat, that it doesn't mean I'm not human. I'm still me. A nutty weirdo goon that got stuck here just like they did. They can die and so can I. We are all prey. My power in the grand scheme of things changes nothing.

Still, something feels uneasy. While things return to normal and the occasional chat, I get this odd sense of being watched. Well, a different one from the feeling of the eyes of the other survivors. No, this one feeling is off. Predatory. A feeling I once felt long before I had my trial. There's a monster in the woods. The question remains of who it is and why is it skulking around? Is it Legion? Did he come to see me squirm? Or is this someone else? Someone I haven't met yet? I have so many questions!

[Elsewhere: Survivor Campsite Woods]

He watched from his spot as he had done so for quite some time since that fateful meeting. He wasn't going to miss any chance to prove the others wrong. To show that he was worthy. And he was going to use the new meat to do so. His patience paid off this time, as the human was once more up and about after many hunting cycles of just lying still like a corpse. Luck was even further on his side as he intently listened in on their ramblings and learned that the others weren't that far off in their theories on her strange power. This human, if provoked enough, will become a killer just like him. The thought of seeing such a sight made him excited. Such a moment needed to be preserved for posterity. With some careful hand placement, he makes a bold move and readies the shot that will mark his road to respect.

*CLICK*

The small camera's flash was obscured but there was nothing to stop the shutter sound. A few of the humans picked up on it and dismissed it for normal odd noise. Though the new meat is less swayed to ignore the sound. Her eyes search for any hint of something different lurking in the foggy shadows.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

He could hear his heartbeat. Strange, as he didn't think he had a heart to begin with. One of the other humans pulls her attention from investigating further and a sudden thrill has him. He's never been caught before yet his stealth nearly failed him here. This was exciting. Turning the camera around, he looked at the image capture and smirked to himself. Yes...Things were going to be fun for Ghost Face.

[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (29 of 40?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE!!!!!******

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!!    CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*****AMAZING AND ALSO HEARTBREAKING COVER ART!!!!! MY POOR BOY, HELPLESS AND SCREAMING WHILE HE SLOWLY LOSES HIS GRIP ON REALITY… D: COCOHOOK38 IS TRYING TO KILL US ALL!!!!*************

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

AN: Sorry for the longer wait this time! I've had an increase in work hours, which might necessitate slower updates from now on.

I decided to skip the "Killian meets Z" chapter because it's mostly just a repeat of everything we know already. I may post it later as a deleted scene, but for now, we're moving forward with the story!

Present (Friday, continued)...

"Crap."

Emma shot to her feet, the chair screeching back from the table as if sharing in her distress. Startled, Jones rose as well, though much more stiffly.

"Emma? What's wrong?"

"It's now; he's… come on."

She raced up the stairs with Jones following as best he could. Past bedrooms, a guest bathroom, and to a padlocked door at the end of the hallway. Emma fumbled with a set of keys, explaining,

"I think Killian is heading for wherever the monster controls the security cameras from. He's going to enact the plan today."

She opened the padlock and yanked the door open. Inside was a table laden with multiple laptops and two desktop computers, all of which seemed to be connected together via masses of coiled cables. As Emma frenzied among the mess, Jones asked,

"What's all this?"

"Borrowed some equipment. From friends… and possibly from Evidence at the station." She seemed relieved when Jones didn't comment. "I hacked into all the security cameras around town, or those connected to the internet, at least. I figured that's what the Master does, and it would probably be more effective to change the feed than to, like, hold a screen in front of the camera or something."

"Hold… a screen…?" The detective's confusion was clear, but Emma was too focused to explain. Deciding to trust in her expertise, most likely gained online during one of her many sleepless night recently, Jones watched for a moment as she continued booting up each computer. Then, impressed and a tiny bit disbelieving, he asked,

"What can I do to help?"

3 weeks, 4 days ago…

His third day a slave, Killian thought he was getting off easy. That is, as far as 'no additional injuries on top of those earned during his first 48 hours' easy. Maybe the two beatings the day before--one for neglecting to attach the provided chain to his collar overnight and the second as part of a 'Session' with the Master--had bought him a day's respite. It was nearing evening, and no one had appeared in the stall entrance to disturb his attempts at rest. A blessing, to be sure; every single inch of him hurt in some way or another, and Killian was not certain he would survive further violence.

As soon as that grim thought crossed his mind, a slave escort appeared. The withered man had no buckets in hand, which could only mean one thing. Killian stifled anxious qualms and began his mantra. Hope kidnapped, Hope tortured, Hope dead. That Killian was desperate. That Killian could obey the summons, could face more torture for the sake of a chance at gleaning any information on his little girl.

That Killian struggled to his feet, joints creaking audibly, dozens of knotted threads pulling tight within his flesh. The slave was impassive as he unlocked Killian's chain and then exited the stall, obviously expecting the pirate to follow. Killian pictured Hope's blood as he forced aching limbs into a mechanical, unsteady gait. Each step awakened a new anguish, in a different place each time. Despite his best efforts, dread soon had his pulse racing beneath swollen, bruised, and torn skin, doubling the throb, intensifying the quaking. What would it be this time? How long before he would scream?

He somehow made it to the church. And there the reluctance became almost a physical barrier blocking his entrance, and he only overcame it with sheer courage, virtually throwing himself inside.

Killian had not anticipated seeing Z standing within, beside the Master, near the altar. His foreboding quadrupled, and it was almost enough to send him lurching back the way he'd come in search of two more minutes of safety. Her presence could in no way signify anything good.

The charade. Cling to the charade.

"Master, please…" He cleared his throat, staggered closer, swimming through pools of red-shifted stained glass patterns on the floor. "My daughter… we had a deal."

Wearing an indulgent smile, the Master curled a tentacle, waving Killian onward. "Good evening, Tripod."

COME TO YOUR MASTER.

Killian stumbled on an uneven paving stone. "At least tell me if she's okay."

"Let's see how well you please me tonight."

Killian stopped at the foot of the stairs, out of the Master's reach. He cast a glance at Z, who was standing still, eyes fixed on the tilted surface of the broken altar. Killian caught a glimpse of metal, a flash of candlelight off of something sharp. He shuddered in apprehension.

"H… how can I be of service, Master?"

"Come join us." The Master indicated a spot on the floor at the altar's edge, between itself and the taciturn Z. Killian drew a calming, painful breath and then hauled himself up, one step at a time, wincing as the exertion aggravated barely contained injuries. He couldn't help cringing away from the Master's welcoming tentacle, which found him anyway, wrapping itself around his left forearm. The creature's clawed hand patted Killian's shoulder.

"I feel your fear, Tripod, and savor it. I will be honest with you: it is justified. I anticipate an unprecedented opportunity for you to serve me tonight."

Jaw tense, Killian avoided looking at Z's collection of implements on the altar. The Master noticed, and it chuckled.

"I have invited Z to dinner. I hope you don't mind."

"Whatever pleases my Master," Killian managed, his voice barely above a whisper. The Master ruffled its claws through his hair.

"Good little Tripod."

Tenderly, it guided him closer to the altar, until he stood leaning against it. The slanted surface came up to his breastbone, radiating cold from metallic decorations. The top was polished wood, and he could make out the dents and dings of age, as well as crusted dribbles of candle wax. His thighs pressed against a protruding design of intricate copper, sending a shiver up his spine. The restraining tentacle lifted his arm; he tried not to resist despite the sudden stab of panic.

"Yes," hissed the Master in his ear. "That's it."

It stretched Killian's arm forward and then allowed it to rest on the tabletop, making a slight adjustment to the angle so that, if Killian had still possessed a hand, his pinkie would have been contacting the surface, with the thumb above. He felt the crab-like pincer take position behind his elbow, adding to the restraint already provided by the tentacle. The Master clattered forward and pressed its thorax against his back. Its wrinkle-free waistcoat itched as it pinned him in place.

Killian could not even make a fist in reaction to his tension; the fresh brand still boiled with any movement of his thumb. His fingers twitched anyway as the Master's second tentacle snaked around that arm as well.

"Z and I have devised a gift for you," purred the Master. "To accommodate your deformity. It will require some precision, though… so do try and hold still, for your own good."

Wheezing rapid breaths, feeling the heat of adrenaline in his limbs, Killian could only watch as Z shuffled closer and balanced her tools within reach. She stood off to his right, at the narrow end of the altar.

"Z, let him see the device."

The silent woman held up a metal shape, something like a half-circle made of slender rods about the thickness of a ballpoint pen, maybe slightly more. There were, in fact, two separate pieces: a straight one, which tapered down to a wicked point, and then a long curve, of which one end was joined to the thicker end of the straight piece. The attachment point was two interlocking rings, so that the curve could twist and rotate all the way around the central line. The other, tapered end had a small hole drilled through it, and Killian surmised that there was some way to attach the currently free-floating curve's edge as well to make a continuous frame of metal. What he could not--or, perhaps, dared not--fathom was its purpose.

No spray bottle of disinfectant here. This time, it was straight iodine, poured from a beaker directly onto his outstretched wrist. The brown liquid streamed down the tilted tabletop like bloodstains, hearkening back to the altar's original purpose. Z drenched a cloth in the iodine and began to scrub roughly at the apex of Killian's captive wrist, then its base. And some instinctive part of him grasped the intent, even if his reasoning was slow to catch on. He lurched backward into the solid presence behind, an incomprehensible, pleading whine sounding from his throat. The Master tightened its grip, though it was in no danger of losing it.

Z continued her abrasive disinfection even as Killian struggled. Both sides of his scarred wrist now sported a bright and ominous yellow.

"Relax now, Tripod. You're being given a tremendous opportunity to serve me with your screams. You should not fight it."

He couldn't do this. Whatever had possessed him to think this scheme was in any way achievable? He took it all back. He had to escape, to save his own skin like the cowardly pirate he'd always been… He… he had to…

"Please… no…"

It was already too late. There was no escape. He was trapped in place, his Master's bulk crushing him against the table, both arms in a vise grip while tears of dread stained his face. The best he could hope for now was a quick death, because he certainly would not survive further mutilation of his… oh, gods, was that a hammer?

Another terrible thought struck as Z lay his arm back into position. Something that had inexplicably escaped his awareness during these past two days of torture: Emma was listening. She would hear the whole thing.

"I'm sorry… Swan…" The last word was cut off by an involuntary sob. The spike's tip pressed against his flesh, sharp and cold. Killian could only breathe in short, frantic little gasps, still thrashing in his Master's grip, but tiring rapidly. The hammer hovered, went through the motions without actually touching its target. A practice swing. Killian was trembling so badly that the precariously balanced set of tools rattled on the altar's surface.

Then it crashed down for real. Driving metal through skin and muscle into bone. Killian's first startled yelp was more of shock than true pain, as it took a second for his brain to catch up. Into the erupting fireball, the hammer fell again.

It was the Dark One, taking his hand with his own blade.

It was the clumsy efforts of Smee and the crew, trying to stop the bleeding and save his wretched life.

It was the dying stump, ballooned and pulsing with infection.

It was the first time he'd donned the hook over the raw flesh, the first time he'd bumped it against some obstruction, the first time he'd fallen on it.

The first time he'd killed with it.

Already, he had screamed himself hoarse, the Master moaning in ecstasy behind him, but the blows continued like lightning bolts, illuminating phantoms so bright that surely he must have a hand there after all.

Off target, the hammer slipped and smashed into blueberry flesh, and the stake jolted sideways with a crunch, and Killian felt himself falling until he was caught by the collar and splashed with water while the hammer lay dormant, and he couldn't even make sense of words he knew he should recognize because his only focus could be the searing cold metal driven halfway through his wrist.

The hammer resumed its grisly task while Killian's cries grew feebler. He drifted in a haze of anguish, half-fainting, shocks of pain sizzling up his arm. His dead weight sagged against the exultant Master behind him as the whole church seemed to spin on an axis.

Killian didn't feel a difference when the spike broke through the skin on the pinkie side of his wrist. The only clue was a minor change in sound: the metal had entered the wood of the altar. One more blow, one more wooden thunk, and Z lay the hammer aside.

And then she yanked upward on his tormented arm, and Killian gave voice to one more noiseless cry as the impaling device shifted inside him before squeaking free of the altar.

His eyes were closed and nothing could make him open them to see the ghastly damage. Even when Z began manipulating the attached ring, pulling brutally and drawing more tears of pain, he kept them squeezed shut. His hand, too, remained balled into an unyielding fist despite negligible protests from his branded palm.

This was it. This was his life now. He would never again feel happiness. Contentment. A moment free of pain. Forevermore, his existence would consist of blazing agony.

There was an audible snap as the free corner of the ring found its bloodstained attachment point. The straight post shifted again, Killian whimpered once and dove headfirst into black oblivion.

This time, the Master let him fall.

[douxreviews]

Gotham - ‘Penguin, Our Hero’ Review

Selina: "So this is the Dark Zone? They should call it the dull zone."

Gotham lately has put me in a very troubled position as a writer; 'Trespassers' last week left me with the sourest of aftertastes, and yet as eager as I was for the oncoming episodes to redeem the season's quality, I also knew that any misstep 'Penguin, Our Hero' took could shatter this eagerness like a cut-rate drinking glass.

And while I confess my enthusiasm now sports cracks and fractures along its glass circumference after my viewing of 'Penguin, Our Hero', because I'm a good sport, I feel it's important to stay as objective as possible, and give even the best of the bad lot its day in the sun.

Like 'Trespassers', this week's episode is also diverged entirely into two plots: Gordon and the GCPD work to protect Haven - the community of civilians taking refuge from the rest of the city's mayhem - from Oswald and his own goons, and Bruce and Selina go hunting for Jeremiah. Back in Season 4, 'One Bad Day' attempted to sell its own twist on The Killing Joke comic, albeit with Gotham swapping out Barbara Gordon for Selina. 'Penguin, Our Hero' quite neatly succeeds in the first half of its run by continuing its homage to Alan Moore's story, this time with the positions of Batman and James Gordon being replaced respectively by Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne; Selina's got the bloodlust bad for Jeremiah's head, yet Bruce insists that he and Selina pursue him by the books, so that Jeremiah may face true justice for what he has done. In my Season 1 reviews, I mentioned once that I never grow bored when Gotham creates scenes like this to remind us that Bruce and Selina come from entirely separate upbringings. What's more, Bruce now has wisdom, reasoning, and even a bit of experience to back his assertions to Selina that sending Jeremiah to Belize isn't in her best interests.

Expanding upon Bruce and Selina's story, they learn that they may have a chance of finding Jeremiah in the 'Dark Zone', a sector of territory where Jeremiah rules over those crazy enough to be inhabitants. The grisly deformities and almost-outlandish costumes (which are major nods to The Dark Knight Returns) were able to capture a small sense of what it was I was expecting to see when Gotham City became a no man's land. It's grisly, it's a little zany, and it absolutely gave off a sense that Bruce and Selina could be goners had they stepped into this territory uninformed and unprepared.

It's a tad odd for me hearing Selina remark on and on to Bruce about how she's changed, and how she's now a different person after taking Ivy's magical medicine last week; in fact, Selina is every bit as quippy, as acrobatic, and as badass as I remember her in her prime. Gotham's showrunners have been insistent this year that Selina will be making additional and gradual changes as she moves closer to her destiny as Catwoman, but I think they might be scratching at the bottom of the barrel if they really want to come through on that promise; Selina has the whip, she has the claws, she has the spandex, she's already the spitting image of Gotham City's infamous cat burglar. So I personally think Gotham can take a break from all this prattle about how much more Selina has to 'change' before she starts wearing cat-ears and making poorly timed feline-themed puns.

Meanwhile, Oswald discovers that most of his thugs and followers have defected to Haven to seek protection from the GCPD. So naturally, Oswald handles this 'betrayal' the way he handles everything - by overreacting. I suspect though that all Oswald really cared about was getting his bulldog Edward back from Haven, above anyone else. The fact that Gordon wouldn't even give the pooch up actually had me siding with Oswald for a majority of this episode. As always, Robin Lord Taylor's scene-chewing here is a delight and a half, even if he is still strangely lacking a shotgun-umbrella. And when it's evident that Oswald's goons have double-crossed him, he resorts to teaming up with Gordon to drive the gangsters out of Haven for good. Gotham seems to have forgotten already that an alliance seemed to be brewing between Gordon and Barbara last week, and so instead we get the first of hopefully many more team-ups between Gordon and Oswald. I also suspect this turn of events sets into motion a domino effect leading to the prelude we saw at the beginning of 'Year Zero' depicting Gordon, Bullock, Oswald and Nygma teaming up against an unknown army.

With the good set aside, now we must come to both the bad and, characterization-wise, the ugly. Specifically, it's one of my biggest gripes with Gotham in years. In regards to portrayal, I haven't seen Gotham so poorly deconstruct one of its most memorable rouges since the introduction of Victor Fries way back in Season 2. I'm talking about this series' rendition of Harley Quinn.

Harley Quinn is unique among Batman rouges because she actually made her debut way back when during the airing of Batman: The Animated Series. She was a character created exclusively for the cartoons before her fusing into mainstream comics, and mainly operated as the Joker's No. 2, though as the series continued, she was fleshed out even further, shown to have once been a psychiatrist that treated the Joker at Arkham Asylum, before ultimately becoming exploited and manipulated by the Joker to turn to a life of crime.

Alternatively, last year, Gotham introduced Ecco, a mysterious subordinate of Jeremiah Valeska who, quite frankly, followed him into battle unquestionably, and in this season, into no man's land as well. Gotham hasn't outright referred to her yet as 'Harley Quinn', but the use of her catchphrase 'Puddin' in this week's episode, as well as the colors of red and black scattered along her clothing is very much a dead giveaway.

Gotham has had difficulties in the past trying to incorporate their own iteration of Harley Quinn into the series. It's come out that there were plans at the end of Season 3 to turn Barbara Kean into the character. There were also rumors that the little girl Bruce saved in an alleyway, also at the end of Season 3, would also grow up to become Harley. To this day, I absolutely believe the inclusion of Harley Quinn isn't an essential factor to Gotham's gutsy, spunky narrative. Simply put, she's a character best saved for a day when the city actually has a properly established Joker (and Batman for that matter), but at best, shelving the character for another time would mean that we would get to be spared Gotham's rendition at...whatever Ecco is supposed to be. And whatever Gotham's intentions were for this character, they've managed to make Ecco everything Harley Quinn is not. Traditionally, Harley does not earn every reader/viewer's sympathy, but the character always steals the show whenever she shows up. She can be funny, she can be entertaining in her own demented methods, it's actually a little unsettling as the viewer to stay tuned with the character as she gets joy out of the most twisted and sadistic things. Even Margot Robbie's portrayal of the character in Suicide Squad remains a personal highlight for me in an otherwise hopeless film because though she brings her own attributes to the character, there are still plenty of homages written into her role that evoked a bit of nostalgia in me for that classic animated series.

Gotham's rendition of Harley Quinn by the end of it is tragically boring, but worse than that, Francesca Root-Dodson's performance fails to share any likeness either with the characteristics of Harley. She's more akin to a hype man (or hype woman in this case) for Jeremiah, much like how Ebony Maw was to Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War, minus the chilling motion capture and dainty fingers. A week ago, I had a hope that Gotham could learn to better blend all of its characters into a single narrative this season, but now I'm left with a single and very potent desire outweighing all others, and that is that Ecco's appearance this week was a one-time occurrence only. Any further appearances down the winding road will all result in a dogged struggle to sit through her scenes, which felt like being stuck in a room with a Harley Quinn cosplayer whose only knowledge of the character comes from what Warner Brothers advertises on t-shirts.

Aaron Studer loves spending his time reading, writing and defending the existence of cryptids because they can’t do it themselves.

[ben-j-man]

Secret War- Chapter 5

Link to chapter 1 http://ben-j-man.tumblr.com/post/180097372453/secret-war-chapter-1

I lunged, the crackling power sword in my hands, slicing a horizontal arc at my opponent’s torso.

My movements were so sure, so fast, so skilled that my eyes could barely follow, never had I known myself to be this good and never had I ever wielded a power sword either.

But somehow despite my incredible speed, my breathtaking confidence and skill, blindingly fast my enemy still managed to dodge, Serghar Kaltos back peddled just away from reach, and the handsome, grim-faced man that was my father slid in, slashing through vertically with his power sword.

Never would I ever had dreamt I could fight my father to a standstill Serghar Kaltos’ skill was legendary, his speed and agility rivalled that of an Eldar’s and these immeasurable talents, were honed from decades and decades of experience and training. When I was young, he and I would spar for countless hours. I was good, very good but I would never win no matter how hard I tried, never could I ever even begin to touch my father and I could tell even then that he was just forever toying with me, forever holding back his real skill and strength.

Now he wasn’t, but still, my blade was able to come around and knock his attack off course, my body seemed to move on its own like water and fire in one. In the blink of an eye, I riposted and stabbed forwards in perfect balance the tip of my power blade aimed in impaling his chest.

The ever practical Serghar Kaltos simply sidestepped the thrust, but my body followed on as if expecting such a trick, keeping the thrust forwards I turned my hips, causing the crackling blade to follow after my father’s movement.

Serghar didn’t hesitate; he parried with his blade on an angle, so my momentum caused my sword to slide up it and off-course throwing me into being overextended and overbalanced then he came in to perform the killing blow. A short slash aimed to disembowel.

I cried out knowing this to be the end, that no matter how good I was there would be no way I could ever hope to counter. And yet despite my overbalance, despite my overextended position my body moved, with extreme cat-like dexterity beyond my comprehension I slipped clear in a move of extreme audacity I slid forwards, sliding around and behind my father while he was still in mid cut and then I stabbed my power sword through his back.

I wanted to scream out no to halt the blow! But my body wouldn’t let me. I resented my father, he was a hypocrite and a liar, but I never wanted to kill him. He was still my dad he was always the one who looked after me, put up with me, who taught me how to shoot a gun, how to wield a sword, how to read and write, how to survive I had no intention to ever hunt him down in some mislead vengeance.

Without my permission, my body lent in and said something into the dying Serghar Kaltos’ ear, but what I uttered I could not hear.

Then abruptly, I pulled back and tore my blade from his torso in an angle which caused his body to spin around to face me and for one brief moment I was able to look into my father’s face, but now it wasn’t Serghar Kaltos. No, the wide-eyed dying form which faced me now was that of Glaitis. Who despite the ugly gaping hole in her chest, grinned at me with hideous, terrifying insanity but it was when I looked into her glazed eyes it was then I screamed, as utter terror tore through me, terror which far exceeded anything I had ever felt before, terror which consumed me and drove me to brink of insanity.

Because it was in the reflection of her large, blue beautiful eyes I saw myself, I saw my face so much like my father’s but framed by my long brown hair, but my expression was contorted, twisted and deformed into an insane, hideous, and grinning maw, a mirror of Glaitis’ own.

My screams turned into muffled yells as I awoke back into the medicae ward, back into the agony of the real world but despite the pain relief washed over me as I realised it was a dream, and I lent back into my pillow my yelling turning into strangled gasps.

It was then the medicae rushed through the door and to my bedside I instantly recognised him as I had met him the first and only time I remembered to visit Torris after his injury, but to my annoyance, I could not quite recall his name.

“Mr Kaltos are you alright? I heard screaming.”

I could not answer, it still hurt to talk I could only look up at him.

“I see,” he said, “it was a nightmare.”

He pulled out a small flashlight from his white jacket pocket and shone it into my eyes, “after what you had gone through I would not expect any less young man.”

When he pulled away I caught a glimpse of his name tag, Feuilt that’s right, medicae Yarran Feiult, the guy, seemed decent enough from the very brief bits of passing dialogue we have shared

“It’s good to see you are finally awake Mr Kaltos, everyone was beginning to worry, it has been more than a week since you last woke up.”

I clenched my teeth in disbelief, a frigging week!

“But believe it or not you have been through the worst of it you’re lucky you are young. Another, solid month of recovery and you should be back in working order.”

A month of recovery? Wait, another month! I have been unconscious for that long! By the Emperor! But I shouldn’t have been surprised it was a miracle that I was still conscious at all, actually going from what Castella had said a month was way too quick really.

I don’t believe in “miracles” and to be honest, I didn’t believe any of Castella’s earlier claim either. There was no way in hell that I could have held off that beast for so long that all of those people could have escaped, I remember well the size of that room, and the size of the crowd stuffed into that space.

There was no way in hell that there couldn’t have been collateral damage, I would have had to dodge and weave its attacks. Perhaps she had just worded it wrong, but I doubted Castella would not be so sloppy. If Glaitis had concocted this lie, she would have engineered it to sound more legitimate, surely.

Or perhaps that I am just legitimately that excellent or perhaps Castella just wanted to give good news when I finally awoke and she would tell me the truth later? But that would piss me off because she lied and-.

I wanted to scream, to roar out the frustration and anger which just suddenly flooded to the surface. Do you have any idea what it is like to live in a world that you can’t believe in anything! That everyone who’s close to you lies about anything and everything, that you are forced to question any act of kindness that just in case there may be some treachery behind it? Everyone has their own petty agenda, everyone! And there would be nothing they couldn’t resort to see their ambitions through I am an idiot, a complete and utter idiot that it has taken me this long to realise that.

“Trust nothing, suspect everything” a saying which now seemed so redundant it was laughable.

It was then I realised that medicae Feuilt was studying me, his beady eyes glinted with concern

Suddenly he turned, grabbed the nearby stool, slid it next to my bed and sat down.

“Now I am no psyker, but I can tell when a patient is in distress and well,” Feuilt paused, grinned and scratched the back of his skull, “but you wouldn’t need to be a psyker or a thirty year veteran of the healing arts to tell that you must have a lot of questions.”

I set my jaw and treated him with the best glare I could dare, oh you could not imagine the stockpile of questions I have gathered and needed answered, I thought.

“And well you are not exactly in the condition to ask them, so I will tell you what I know and of the best of my ability,” he sighed. “When you were first taken into us you were in bad shape, well to be honest saying that you were in bad shape is like saying a star going supernova is a bad thing for the planets orbiting it. It is an understatement.”

Well, I would have never figured that out, I thought sardonically.

“Almost every bone in your body was broken, well, shattered, but remarkably your skull and spine were mostly still intact, and you had the slightest of life signs.” Feuilt’s expression turned hard. “Honestly, we had pegged you for dead. As I said, your bones were shattered there was no way we could re nit them and even if you did survive, the trauma of the impact which caused it, that your brain would have been damaged beyond repair. But your employer; Glaitis, she wouldn’t give up and under her orders and too much, much sweat and toil we managed to stabilise you for the first week. So you lived long enough that she could,” he hesitated, and an almost incredulous expression creased his already old face. “So she could bring in a new surgeon, who uhm, worked by interesting methods, for only an hour at most we were not allowed to enter this room while that new surgeon worked, whoever it was, it never even asked us anything, but I could not deny the psychic presence emanating from this room.” Feuilt shivered, “after that, that hour whoever it was just left, as quickly as they came.”

I wasn’t too sure what to make of this news so far if Feuilt was telling the truth which I did believe, or at the least, he thought it was true. Then perhaps, the story of Castella’s “you were stubborn and held on to survive” was complete and utter frig but I could see that Feiult wasn’t telling me the whole truth. Like if the healer were indeed a psyker who somehow didn’t get its healing of me get detected by the local authorities after the incident at The Twilight Bar, indeed any new psychic activity would have been treated with extreme suspicion if it was sensed of course and then why did Taryst allow it? And also why would Glaitis go to so much effort to save me? A mere, lowly apprentice?

But all that paled in comparison to one substantial huge lingering question, why where we still here? After Glaitis’ “extracurricular” activities and the subsequent chaos at The Twilight Bar wouldn’t Taryst at the very least fired Glaitis for going behind his back? I could hazard a myriad amount of guesses at this, but one seemed to fit, that Brutis Bones’ was still at large, whether they had confronted and killed or captured that man I had fought at the man meant he wasn’t Brutis or that was Brutis, and he did escape. Or that the whole “independent” operation was known to Taryst and for some reason, Glaitis had lied to us about it.

But if the former were true, I would once again emphasise the full extent of Taryst’s desperation that he would keep us around after that incident. That he needed our skills so badly brought this into an even larger light, and now I know that perhaps Brutis Bones or that man I fought has connections with the Holy Inquisition. That would explain the enormous funding it has and them being able to keep a pet Arcoflagellent and if they were Inquisition why couldn’t they make contact with the local authorities seen as though Taryst seems to be going to insane lengths to hide from them?

What that man in the Twilight Bar had said then echoed ominously through my thoughts; that there was more at stake than I could imagine, now his words could not ring with much more truth.

“When we were finally permitted to enter your room,” said on Feiult, “we found that you were still completely unconscious, but you were completely intact, your shattered bones had miraculously been re nit, and your brain activity was back, functioning at normal parameters.”

I expected more elaboration from the medicae, but he trailed off once more confirming that he wasn’t telling me everything.

How had this psyker who apparently completely healed me but yet here I am, still lying in this bed where even the slightest of movements causes complete agony? How did he even know that I would be at full order in four months time?

Damn it Feuilt your explanation was creating nothing but more questions, and if I couldn’t get those missing details during the next month, once I get well I will frigging ring them out of the old bastard, and Emperor damn the consequences!

Feiult smiled almost nervously. “Also during your month long coma quite a few people came to visit you, Garrakson, young Elandria, Torris and if you are wondering; Torris has recovered from his injuries he now has a new augmetic for his missing eye, and he is out on the field working at full capacity now. Even Taryst himself once visited you.”

I felt glad about Torris’ recovery but felt a pang of guilt, the guy had visited me during my injury, but I had hardly visited him, the next time I will have to apologise. But at the medicae’s mention of Taryst I sighed, he would have only come to have his psykers withdraw the information he needed from my mind.

“A few new people as well, a light, snarky man named Darrance. He came once. A friendly, big man called uhm Hayden a few times but most prolific of all was that woman Castella she came in every day and every day prayed over you, it was no coincidence that she was there the first time you woke up, your lucky that you have so many who care for you so much.”

I could understand Hayden and Castella (though her coming in every day was quite shocking) And even to an extent Elandria, but Darrance? Perhaps Glaitis had forced him to or something, that was the only explanation I could theorise.

“Well,” said Feuilt as he got off of his chair. “That is enough exposition for today young Mr Kaltos. I really should not have told you so much, but I felt you deserve some explanation at least, and as your medicae, I advise for you to not stress too much over the information I have given you, and stress no matter how small will slow the healing process. You need to relax. I will inform everyone you are awake,” and with that Feiult turned and walked out the door.

I sighed to myself once Feuilt had left. Did he just ask me not to stress out about all the gigantic holes in his “exposition?” And now that I am stuck here immobile and alone as well? Medicae Yarran Feuilt really didn’t know me, did he?

For the next three hours as I lied alone and I lost myself in thought as I stared up at that white, tiled ceiling.

I thought over a myriad amount of subjects, the first being how interesting it was that a psyker had repaired my shattered body. I really didn’t know that it could be used in such an extreme healing aspect, though in retrospect it made perfect sense. With the power to be able to manipulate much of your surroundings and warp other people minds to your own will, why couldn’t psychic talents be used to re-nit bones?

Perhaps that was the reason why I was still bedridden; I am still suffering from the trauma of having my shattered bones repaired by a completely foreign and unnatural force.

But my body was destroyed beyond repair, the skill and power of that mystery psyker must have been beyond phenomenal to accomplish such a task. Perhaps the psyker brought in was one of Taryst’s cadre? But why would it then take a week before he/she or on a more frightening note “it” could be brought in to repair me and once again my thoughts went to that one question I really wanted to avoid thinking about; why would Glaitis go to so much trouble to save me? This question I wanted to avoid as much as possible as I was unable to make a coherent theory on the answer, was it because she genuinely cared for my well being? That I doubted, everything she did, good or bad, seemed to have something behind it which aided her mysterious agenda in one way or another.

I always knew I was but a pawn in that agenda, but now, apparently, I was a slightly more special pawn.

My constant, circling and futile train of thought were eventually interrupted by my first visitors, three of them to be exact.

Elandria was first through the door, her pale face as impassive as always but she treated me to a slight, almost respectful nod. Then she silently went and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest and gazed off looking generally bored, her attention sometimes came back to me and when she noticed I noticed she quickly looked away. I had always found it sad that it was such a rare occasion when she smiled legitimately it would have been nice to see her smile, especially now.

Garrakson was next, wearing his usual scarred old guard carapace armour, with a big grin plastered on his equally marred face.

“Hey kid, good to see you’re finally awake,” he said then he frowned, “damn it though, you bloody well took your sweet time.”

Yeah, I thought in good humour, having most of your bones shattered would do that to a person.

“Yes,” said Elandria as she unknowingly spoke my thoughts but was completely devoid of humour, “but that is what would happen to most people after they had most of their bones shattered.”

“Now that’s where your wrong kiddo,” corrected Garrakson, “no, most people would be dead.”

“Well Attelus Kaltos isn’t “most” people is he?” said the third person as he entered. The tall and dark-skinned Torris grinned at me widely with the white teeth that contrasted his complexion and though I knew one of his eyes was an augmetic yet it was hard to tell which. It seemed that Taryst had spared no expense for the ex-arbitrator and I was glad to see that.

“He is the mighty hero of the Twilight bar who sacrificed himself to rescue the young partygoers from a monster of horrible power, no, Attelus is now a hero, a legend, a god amongst men.”

My eyes widened, did everybody already know of what had happened? Except for perhaps medicae Feuilt, he didn’t seem to, but I was extremely sure he was also not telling me entirely what he knew anyway.

“Yeah, yeah keep it down Tor,” said Garrakson, “by the Emperor, I swear you and Taryst should have a competition to see which of you can chew more scenery.”

“But,” added Elandria, “whether he actually “sacrificed” himself is, really, up for interpretation.”

Not liking at all were Elandria was taking the conversation I tried to shoot at her a death glare, attempting to make her shut up but it was an attempt which failed miserably, going completely unnoticed and Torris and Garrakson gave her bemused glances.

“What does that mean?” asked Torris almost accusatory, I could tell he had an idea where this was also going.

Elandria grinned wickedly “I think the real reason behind it was Attelus Kaltos meant to use the “innocent” party goers as human shields to protect him from the arco-flagellant until back up arrived and he was just extremely lucky it did.”

“No!” I managed to exclaim even though it caused me pain to do so, “no! That wasn’t what I intended to do at all!”

Her words were cruel and truly callous, but perhaps they weren’t without merit? Perhaps all her, Castella, Darrance and Tresch had found was a bloodbath and this may be even more evidence pointing to Castella lying to me.

She shrugged, seemingly almost frightened at how genuine my heartfelt rebuttal was, “I am no psyker I can’t read thoughts,” she said, pouting, “it’s what I would have done, if in that situation.”

Everyone stared at her in utter shock. So this was the true Elandria? Someone so inherently evil and brainwashed that she couldn’t even begin to comprehend that someone in the same line of work as she could do any good. That what she said wasn’t meant to be cruel, that it was from genuine ignorance, which made it even worse.

“Elandria,” said Garrakson with an icy calm, the ex-guardsman’s face was dark, as hard as a stone and for a minute he was utterly terrifying.

“What?”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I said get out! And that’s a frigging order!” snarled Garrakson suddenly and that was the first time I had ever heard him raise his voice in anger. Even Torris who had worked with Garrakson for a long time seemed surprised by the outburst.

Elandria flinched at the intensity but then irrational rage began to spread over her fine-featured face, and for a second, I could have sworn that it would come to blows, as she glared up at Garrakson and while he stared down stoically. To be honest, I wasn’t sure who would win if it did, Garrakson had the obvious advantage of size, strength and reach and he was well versed in basic brawling and guard CQC drills but Elandria was even my equal in close combat, she was sly, agile and very, very fast. But in these confined quarters, Garrakson had the upper hand so to speak as Elandria had little to no room to manoeuvre.

Elandria seemed to realise this as after what felt like an eternity her face twitched back into its atypical impassive, then she turned and walked out the room, muttering, “whatever” as she closed the door behind her.

Garrakson turned back to me, “I’m sorry about that kid,” he said, “both Tor and I know that you wouldn’t do such a thing.”

At that line I looked away, feeling extreme guilt welling at the pit of my gut as I acknowledged just how close I had come to abandoning those people which in my opinion would have been equally as monstrous.

“I-I,” I swallowed back the pain which had come with that utterance, my earlier exclamation must have done more damage than I had initially thought, “I was, the one who, had lead that Arcoflagellent to those people, I was responsible for it, so I had to try to make up for it.”

“Fair enough and noble words Attelus,” said Torris but he and Garrakson exchanged almost guilty glances, “but we heard about what you did to Vex.”

“And that was one frigging hard pill to swallow,” growled Garrakson his harsh tone somehow making me feel even more guilty.

“Now Attelus we don’t know why you hurt that kid and to be honest don’t care,” said Torris, “we just want to know if that you did in that club whether or not you did it was mostly out of guilt for what you had done to that kid.”

Despite myself sudden irrational fear pounced to the surface, fear which turned my heart to ice, I did indeed do it in part to that guilt, but I wasn’t sure whether they would agree with that. I had been left to guess about oh so much while working under Glaitis but never before had I felt this weight of consequence, and uncertainty and it terrified me beyond belief, Torris and Garrakson were mercenaries, hired killers, selfishness was all part of the job so why the hell was this so damn important to them? Why did they care!? Why couldn’t my actions be enough?

“W-why? Why the hell, do you want to know?” I managed.

“It’s a simple question Attelus,” said Garrakson, “and a simple answer yes or no, you can take your time, but we aren’t moving until you answer.”

I desperately looked from Garrakson to Torris back and forth, back and forth desperate to find some clue in their impartial expressions but to my dismay I found nothing.

Finally, I sucked in air through clenched teeth before saying, “yes, it was, a partial contributor to my action,” and it was almost physically painful to admit.

Both Garrakson and Torris exchanged looks then Garrakson finally said, “yes, we thought as much.”

“It was pretty damned obvious,” said Torris, “but it was good to hear you say it.”

“So? You two already knew, but you still were still, willing to put me through that?” I said sounding more exasperated than I should have.

“You were willing to throw away your life then, and there weren’t you Attelus?” said Garrakson, ignoring my statement, “and doing it because you felt guilty about what you did to Vex would have been stupid.”

“You are extremely lucky to survive,” said Torris, “if you had died you wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to apologise to that kid legitimately, and so your sacrifice, to him would in all likelihood seemed hollow and self-important.”

“What you really needed to do was to face the music in the first place. You should have built up the courage to say you’re sorry to his face and you are extremely lucky to get a second chance to do it,” said Garrakson then immediately his face lightened. “But it is also good to hear you didn’t do it just because of that.”

“W-what would have happened if I had?” I asked, feeling an extreme mix of both guilt and relief.

“Well let’s just say that this lecture would have gone on for longer,” said Garrakson, “we maybe ruthless mercs kid but we still care about a few things.”

“A very few things,” emphasised Torris with good humour.

“Kid, we’ll leave this subject only if you promise us is that the very first thing you do once you recover is you find Vex and you frigging well apologise.”

It was deja-vu all over again when I was a child I remembered that my father and had given me similar lectures after every single time I had fallen into that blind rage and had hurt others because of it. Like every time, I had found it extremely hard to face the person I had hurt afterwards. But once I had worked up that courage and confronted the kid, and said sorry it was like a weight was taken off my shoulders.

No wonder Glaitis insisted on calling me “child” as I was still one on so many facets.

“No,” I said with new found determination and much to Garrakson’s evident surprise, “I swear it.”

We conversed for the next half hour, with Elandria all the while staying outside and through them, I found out that now everything was back to square one.

“We’re still running into dead ends,” Torris had said, “still chasing our tales.”

“Though our bloody encounters against the hammers have been a lot fewer kid,” said Garrakson with a sniff, “it seems that they have gone even further into hiding.”

“Hmmm, not surprising really,” I managed, “and it also seems that Brutis Bones is in, someway, involved with the Inquisition, which explains the organisation’s funding as well as Taryst’s paranoia, I had a slight suspicion, but when I went in there I wasn’t exactly expecting they’d have a frigging Arco flagellant.”

“Fair enough,” said Garrakson with another sniff, he didn’t seem at all surprised at my conclusion. But he wasn’t stupid he would of at the very least guessed it also or on a more darker note, knew it.

“Well we’d better go,” sighed Torris as he got off his seat, “we’ve still got to take our newest report to the big man himself.”

“Right,” agreed Garrakson, “we can’t keep him waiting in eager anticipation to hear more of our ‘exploits’.”

“Garrakson wait,” I said causing the ex-guardsman to halt his exit, “do you truly think that an apology would be enough for Vex?”

Garrakson smiled and shrugged, “maybe, maybe not, kid, but it’s something which is better than nothing.”

Then he turned to leave but once again I stopped him,

“Just one more thing, could you, send in Elandria for me, before you go, I need to talk to her.”

Garrakson looked to Torris who shrugged and said, “I don’t see why not boss we can spare a few minutes.”

The ex-guardsman sighed, “sure kid but don’t take to long we all know that it will be tough but we don’t have all day to wait around for you have your fun.”

I felt my face flush, and Torris sniggered in agreement, then they left.

“We’ll wait outside the medicae,” I just managed to hear Garrakson inform this to Elandria before he shut the door behind him.

I only had to wait a few seconds before Elandria entered.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Could you please close the door, Elandria?” I croaked.

She looked at me with a strange uncertainty, then she turned and hesitantly complied.

“So now will you tell me what the hell is it you want?”

“Thanks, El, I just have one thing I want to know. No, one thing I truly need to know, in the Twilight bar, what the hell exactly happened?”

“Hah!” she exclaimed suddenly and with a resounding bitterness so potent it took my breath away, “didn’t the great Castella Lethe tell you when you first woke up? Or don’t you trust even her now?”

“I-I truly don’t know who the hell to trust anymore,” I admitted, my words sounding more strained with sadness that I had intended.

“What did she actually say to cause you to be this...?” she trailed off.

“Suspicious? She said that all of the people I had attempted to protect had survived that they all fled and had escaped the arco flagellant’s wrath, but in all honesty, it seems far too good to be true, I just wish I could remember it.”

And the reason why I couldn’t remember I could hazard a myriad amount of guesses on.

She grinned, “Oh indeed, I guess that would be suspicious, but you know what? I’ m not going to tell you.”

“What?”

“Oh no and you know why? Because you don’t deserve it!” she suddenly closed on me from across the room so fast it made me flinch in surprise, and she brought her face so close to mine that our lips almost touched. Her expression was one of cold rage, and horrible fear gripped me as it seemed she was going to kill me and I would be utterly incapable of defending myself.

“What you did was beyond stupid,” she hissed, and I could feel her spittle speck on my face. “To throw your life away like that out of some misguided self-righteousness just makes me sick and for what? To save the lives of a group of pathetic nothings who you don’t even know! For such complete and utter idiocy, I believe you need to be punished. In fact, I would have let you die for it, but for some reason, quite beyond me, mistress Glaitis wanted to keep you alive. No I won’t answer your question I will let you lie here and writhe in your own uncertainty, it is the very least you deserve.”

It was then that the realisation hit me and the pain of it was beyond description, “Glaitis put you up to this didn’t she?” I cried, “she had Castella tell me that, and she knew I wouldn’t believe it! She knew that the disbelief would eat at me, this is the punishment for what I did, oh no! No!”

That was cruel, even for Glaitis it was cruel, could this be the one reason why she had me saved, to torture me this way? What kind of people do I work for, who would do such a terrible thing?

Elandria got back to full height and grinned that disturbing grin “maybe or I could just be doing this extracurricular but that I won’t answer as well. Oh, I do hope that you have your fun Attelus Kaltos, I know I will.”

With that she turned and walked away, leaving without a further word, ignoring me as my desperation overwhelmed my pain as I writhed in my sheets and pleaded out after her impervious back; “please don’t do this, please don’t be this cruel Elandria, please Elandria. Please! Elandria! Elandriaaa!”

Her only reply was the slamming door, leaving me all alone once more.

[little-teacup-11]

The Love Of Aurelia

 It was a cool snowy morning, the ground and forest was caked in a soft, cold  blanket of soft snow. Various snow flowers were blossoming in and among the soft white garden  as small female was walking through the snow. She was dressed in a long sleeved light pink chemise gown that feel passed her ankles in a soft cotton against her delicate skin. Her hair was in a soft long french braid and hung over her shoulder gently, tied by a soft pink bow. Her feet were bare and freezing as she walked through the snow, her soft brown stuffed bunny that was in her soft cream gown. Her gown was dragging along the snow as she soon knelt before a patch of beautiful of beautiful flowers. It was pure white with a soft pink flower bud in the shape of a ruffled heart. There were various petals  that were ruffled like frills in unique blend of a carnation and peony. Even the stem and leaves were soft in color as they were very pale, almost as if they didn’t have color or shade to to its soft, frail body. It had soft, delicate scent to them that was very soothing to smell and surround yourself too. It was the beautiful flower, The Sweet Kiss of Aurelia. It only bloomed, like many flowers in this area and environment only blossomed when it was cold and snowing, as the snow was what nurtured and gave it life to blossom and grow into something beautiful along with the love Aurelia received. The flower was called Heart of Aurelia

Aurelia Rosemary was a beautiful snow maiden who was horribly burned on the right of her face in a terrible accident in her teens. As a result of her burns, she had phobia for fire and flames as she would tremble and cry at just the sight of spark as it would bring unwanted and painful memories. As a result of her scars, she was made of fun and called so many unflattering names that she grew to feel unloved and ugly. It made her feel even more alone then she already was, as in the whole village she was the only snow maiden. She had no family, as she was abandoned as a infant. She was sullen and lonely child, that only as she got older. That feeling only increased with her now scared face, almost as if to curse her existence, a way t say she wasn’t wanted in the world. It was a snowy night when Serene, The Gentle Mood Goddess heard her tears, tears that turned to snow crystals and approached her. She gently embraced her and wiped her tears, and gently kissed her eye and scarred side to bless her with a gentle promise that she would find someone who will help her that she was still beautiful, someone still worth being loved.

 All of which, she doubted down to her soul and care in fear. For it all sounded to good to be true, and felt she was undeserving of such gentleness and love. It was only when a few day’s passed till she saw her, her beautiful angel who gently took her hand, and every day and night, would always move her hair that hid her scarred and burnt side of her face to kiss it and caress it softly while telling her she was beautiful with her scars, and that she loved her. Her love helped Aurelia soul blossom and grow into something beautiful, and with blessing that the moon gave her own flower blossomed on her chest, and in the first drop of snow, as pure as snow. A flower that showed no matter how scarred you are, or broken you may feel, feelings of love can still blossom. That no matter how alone you are in the world, someone does care about you, someone will love you for you. And that someone, romantic, family, or platonic can and will still you, and give your soul strength that you never known you had.

The girl looked down at the flower and touched her scars with long, slender fingers with shimmering pink nails gently. Her scar covered her own eye, she had it bad accident when she was attacked years ago, and was officially blind it it, so it was very pale and different in color, giving her the appearance of having mismatched eyes. She normally wore her eye patch as it was very sensitive to light, but today she was spared from that, and it was early so no one would see her. She wasn’t normally up so early as she was not an early or morning person but her mind kept her up for hours that she just eventually got up. Already she was fighting tears off as her mind started to attack and doubt her again. It was such a vicious and painful cycle, as tears started to streak down her good eye, while tears of blood streaked down her bad eye. She held the gentle and delicate flower to herself before she heard loud, foot steps approaching her causing her to turn around to see her lord approaching her.Just as she was about to speak, they approached her to take her in their arms, their frame shaking slightly. She was startled, but quickly wrapped her arms around them, rubbing their back gently as they picked her up to carry her back inside to their bedroom to lay her on their bed with their face buried in her chest.

Placing a small hand on their cheek, she moved their face up to face her, her own sadness gone in her worry for them, seeing their normally calm face wary and..hurt? They must have saw her shock as they shook their head as they tried to compose themselves, finally speaking. “I am sorry to have startled you little one. It is..just..been a difficult day. A meeting with outsiders that were curious about land..they..heard about the things I done, in those towns..it just got worst once I confirmed it and even I after they explained..and they just..called me a wretched demon..no heartless monster and barbarian that that shouldn’t have never been born..as I was a disgrace to the snow spirits..everything that I am now..is abomination. I been called and told worst..but that..just..” they started, their voice trying to the hide their hurt, but for once was failing. It got to them, as it brought up wounds of their past, that they were forbidden as they snow form was cursed into deformity of a scarred and deformed demon. It took years for them to finally shift to a snow form, but it didn’t feel to them as their real form was cursed into monstrosity, and they weren’t sure it could ever be broken. And everything they learned, did go against it. But still to heart it from a stranger, they almost killed them, and barely managed to scare them away, but their words still haunted them even now..

She frowned at seeing how upset and hurt they were, she was aware of what they did and who they are, and while she didn’t like it, she understood it. And most of all, she understood they didn’t like to do it either, but to ensure that no more bloodshed would be shed, they took that role. Most days they could take it, but this one was one of their days they couldn’t. Leaning down, she gently kissed them,”It is ok My Lord, they do not know or understand what they speak up or what you endured. Nor do they truly understand you, for if they did they never would have spoke such cruel likes and words. You have saved so many lives, mine included by taking on such a stressful role as the lord here. For in many ways, you are still a snow spirit as you are kind and gentle. You are far from heartless, otherwise you wouldn’t be here, nor would the citizens in those towns love you as dearly as they do. They will defend you to the end My Lord,” she said softly, gently placing kisses all over their face as she held their large hand in her small one gently as both their hands held the delicate flower. Her voice was soft and gentle, full of her love and adoration for her Lord. Her emotions, and actions, along with her words made them smile as they shifted positions so that she was laying on top of them, her head tucked under their chin as they slid warm, thick, soft songs on her feet, gently scolding her for walking in the snow barefoot as she could make her sick as she sensitive to the cold.

“I thank you little one..if only you could show the same understanding and love to yourself..”they murmured as they gently wiped her tears with their thumb, kissing her eyes with a smile,their lips gently lingering on her scarred eye.”You are so kind and gentle, so loving and understanding to everyone but yourself. So scared of hurting others that you hurt and destroy yourself, twisting yourself into things that are untrue.It is almost poetic, what your eye represents. Two sides, one side happy and cheerful, so bubbly and silly as you make others smile and laugh, making them feel loved and cherished. While the other, scared and anxious, full of doubts and anxiety with twisted truths and thorns of emotions that you use to break and hurt yourself with, your soul to bleed. A side you try to hide, not wanting to burden or hurt others with, nor do you wish to be selfish so you try to hide, your sensitivity and emotional soul. Twisted it so badly..that you think now you deserve it, and that anything else is to kind for you. Both a happy and tormented soul you are, with yourself as your own tormentor..” he cooed as he gently kissed her, gently rubbing away her fresh tears with their thumb.”You are the one in my heart, as I am in the one in yours. With me you are safe, I won’t allow anyone to hurt you, not even yourself love. We together as one..” he cooed against her lips, causing her to blush.

“I only love and see you My Lord. I only desire and long for you,” she replied softly. “I am just scared..,” she mumbled, only for them to gently shush her as they replied,”I know you are,but please don’t worry or think to much. I know and see you love, I know you wouldn’t do a thing to intentional hurt me as I would never do the same to you. We are here for one another, remember that,” they cooed as they held her close as he pulled the blankets over them. They needed rest, as it was clear she didn’t sleep well, and they were weary from this early events, and only with her did they feel they would be able to rest well and possible sleep well enough without any nightmares. So holding her close, they managed to get her to gently close her eyes with soft kisses to her eye-lids and falls asleep, with them not far behind her. There hands and fingers lace together around the Love Of Aurelia, as both of them felt safe and loved in one another’s arms.

[journeysintowebcomics]

Stand Still Stay Silent Liveblog #17

UPDATE 17: The Rest of the Team

Last time a troll had breached into the infamous train despite all the saws it has. It was a rather striking fight, in which Emil and Lalli stayed aside while the guards dealt with it, because they didn’t get away in time. For the record, the deformed creatures the rash illness caused are terrifying. Let’s continue.

I’m pretty sure Emil got in bed in three seconds flat. He even buckles up. Screw the uncomfortable feeling of having seatbelts pressing on you, he’s scared. I suppose it’s not often he sees breaches like this. How often do cleansers see a troll, I wonder? I’d have supposed they do rather often, but that was quite the reaction. Then again, cleansers while working surely have weapons and other tools, and Emil here had nothing besides his fists. Of course he’d be scared.

Lalli already knows Emil’s priorities, hah!

‘Highly unusual degree of inconveniences’, the attendant says. I’ll say! It sure is inconvenient a troll punched through the hull of the train, injured like four people and turned a small area of the train into a swamp of blood and nastiness. Hah! But okay, yeah, she’s right: first thing to do is always to try to calm down the passengers. I’m pretty sure nobody is fooled, though. Everyone in this world must know by now the kind of risks there are every day.

‘We swear, this almost never happens’ Okay, that sounded a little bit like too much denial. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but hearing a professional say ‘we swear X horrible event almost never happens’ doesn’t fill me with confidence. I’ll say, though: they were prepared and ready for the situation, and that’s good.

It’s sunrise, the train is arriving to the station. The people who come to decontaminate look...surprised? At the extent of the damage, I suppose. Cleaning the train is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it. These people better get paid well.

I suppose Emil informed Tuuri of what happened last night while they left the station. You wish to have seen that by yourself, Tuuri? They step out, and are greeted by two of the remaining team members and Trond Andersen.

These two are certainly the descendants of their ancestors. You look almost exactly like Aksel Eide, and you...you do resemble Madsen. Welcome to the story! Try not to die, because the things that fill this world are rather dangerous.

Is that an oil rig? So the Danes repurposed an oil rig to be a station. Sounds good, being surrounded by water should keep them safe from anything evil that may come by. I suppose the odds of that happening are extremely low, though.

Looks like that’s the end of the scene. Time for some more worldbuilding. Since otherwise this would be a rather short update, I’ll continue. This time, the informational page is about the many beasts that populate this world. They come in three varieties, each one being twice as horrifying as the last one.

Okay, sounds simple enough. Beasts resemble the creatures they once were, just that they’re infected and mutated. Seems to me like they keep some animalistic traits such as resistance to the cold – animals in general fare better than humans in the wilderness, don’t they? I suppose that’s why beasts can survive more.

Trolls are...human-based, I suppose. Ew. Just what kind of illness was this, that turned a normal everyday human into a twisted abomination that looks like it came out of a movie made by David Cronenberg? Looks like trolls wait for prey to pass by. I had thought the thing that attacked the train was a troll, but looks like it wasn’t. Seems to me like it’s more likely to be a giant, because of its size and how it looked.

Giants are...they look like something you’d find in the deepest parts of the ocean or the earth. There’s nothing human here besides the components, I think. Giants are formed through the fusion of trolls, so that means giants are conglomerations of different infected human beings. I really don’t want to think about humans fusing like amoebas. I’m now thinking about infected humans fusing like amoebas. This is so morbidly tenebrous, I’m having goosebumps.

Let it be known I admire Ms. Sundberg drawing so much details in the thing that attacked the train. It’d be simple to make it be some sort of blob, just coloring the inside black and adding a few details, but no, I remember there was a lot of detail, and it wasn’t like that was there for one single panel, it appeared over and over. That’s dedication.

Now that I had today’s dose of nightmare fuel, may as well continue. Another chapter! SSSS is blazing through the chapters, isn’t it? Starting the fourth chapter now. May as well do the usual thoughts.

This was the first time the story showed right here on-screen just how serious the situation is in this world. So far SSSS had been rather lighthearted despite the whole apocalypse thing, but this chapter made very clear this isn’t fun and games. Trolls and giants are something to be afraid of. It’s not that I ever thought those wouldn’t be threatening, it’s more like it’s easy to underestimate how bad something is unless you see it by yourself. What happened in that train shows it very well.

Also, high time I put these!

I’m rather fond of all the characters so far. Nice! I’m also excited to finally meet the next two. Let’s get that underway!

Chapter 4. Tuuri is driving, even though she barely can see over the wheel. Lalli is over there having a horrible time, Emil is...bandaged, for some reason, and the new two characters are lounging around. Okay, let’s start.

Have you ever met a Norwegian or a Dane, Emil? He has met Norwegians, and thinks they’re unruly. Huh. Eide seems rather cheerful, yep, but I don’t know if Eide will be unruly. Madsen seems rather calm, like nothing will bother him. I don’t know if it’s true that Danish language is so convoluted you can’t understand a word, but eh. I’m pretty sure that’s how it all sounds to someone who doesn’t know the language, like me.

Pffft, for someone who is concerned all the time about first impressions, Emil simply can’t make a good one. Replace that fist with your own foot, why don’t you, kid. At least he didn’t do this right in front of Madsen. Would Madsen be upset about this? It depends if he is as stoic as he seems to be at first sight.

Siv comes to get them to meet their new teammates before Emil can make himself look even worse. Tuuri doesn’t need to be told twice, she goes down excitedly and stops right in front of Eide, looking up and amazed Eide is so tall – are you glad you finally met someone tall, Tuuri? But yeah, comparing Emil and Eide, the latter is rather tall.

‘Why, yes I am! I like you already’ someone is sociable, huh. Their names are Sigrun and Mikkel. I suppose Mikkel is Madsen’s descendant because I remember the Madsens all had names starting with M. I just went to check the photo that was in the prologue and yep, almost everyone had names starting with M. Mikkel Madsen and Sigrun Eide…wasn’t there an ancestor named Sigrun? Nice!

Sigrun Eide is the captain of the team and is competent, at the very least, while Mikkel…gets fired a lot. Oh boy, he truly is the descendant of his ancestors. They both seems rather nice, Mikkel is courteous, gives greetings and shakes hands, while Sigrun sings praises to herself and wallops Lalli on the back.

Lalli’s going to have a hard time, isn’t he? He doesn’t understand any languages other than Finnish, Sigrun seems rather fond of physical contact, and Emil’s being awkward around him. ‘Why do these people keep hitting me, indeed’.

Overall, I think the group dynamic here is disastrous. It’ll be like everyone is in their own little world, and the language barriers don’t help. I also think everyone except maybe Lalli has the intentions and potentials to continue despite all these problems, so…yeah, they’ll be okay. Lalli is the one I see being troublesome, and not because he does it on purpose.

While they’re still getting acquainted, a yelling man comes by in ALL CAPS. He sure is excited! He’s so excited he won’t tell anyone about the unauthorized looting the group will be doing!

Does yelling count as telling? It’s a good thing people in general don’t care that much about what other people do. It doesn’t make Torbjorn be any less nervous, of course. Better hurry to pass through the edge of the Known World and into the wilderness! It’ll be fun and deadly! They’re…they’re going to go on foot? No, that’s impossible, the start of the chapter showed everyone in some sort of vehicle. Maybe they’ll find it somewhere out there.

Ah, there we go, Sigrun says just what I was hoping to hear. The vehicle is over there. Tuuri can’t wait to see the vehicle they’ll spend their lives with for the foreseeable future, and hurries down the line of hella impressive tanks. When she gets to the end…

No, that’s not the one. Five or six people don’t even fit there, anyway. Thankfully for the mission, the real vehicle is much larger and much sturdier.

Fancy enough. Not like the others, but it won’t crumble down in a heap of junk. It also looks spacious enough to sleep in. Sure, as a whole it’s a bit rickety, but given the budget…

Emil, are you trying to break some kind of record about how many times you can screw up today? This is the third time you do something. He leaned on a side mirror and broke it, right when Torbjorn and Mikkel were coming. Luckily for him, they didn’t notice. It doesn’t stop him from throwing the mirror away as if it was some sort of Molotov cocktail.

Haha, I like how Sigrun looks positively horrified. The mirror gives some unfortunate worker a concussion. Make that four times Emil screwed up today. For his next trick he’ll fall on the ground, something will walk over him, everyone will laugh.

Sigrun is a real trooper; he lies and says the mirror was already broken. That’s our captain! Mikkel has other things to comment on, such as the large bruise on Emil’s face. Ah, right…he has a bruise. It must have happened during one of the many times he hit his face against the floor last night. Mikkel offers to help heal it, he has some ointment for that, but Emil isn’t understanding him at all. Don’t make the comment about Danish people and their mouths full of porridge.

This team as a whole is off to a wonderful, wonderful start. They all better return covered in glory! And, hopefully, without having strangled each other in frustration. Hah! Still, there’s one character yet to be revealed, right? They still need to appear, and they’re running out of time to arrive. It won’t take too long to get out of the known world. May as well stop for now!

Next update: in five updates

[broadwayhopeful23]

Christine Daae, but She Cries Less

Okay, plot twist: What if ALW’s Christine is not afraid of the Phantom the whole time and cries a lot less to be the strong female character we know her to be? Let me explain: Christine is somewhere between 16 and 20 years old. She is a strong, independent orphan who runs her own life. She stopped believing in angels a while ago. She knows that the Angel of Music is a person, and it's not a coincidence to her that 'the Opera Ghost' acts in her favor. She's confused and unsure, because who IS this angel/ghost/phantom/man and how does she feel such a strong connection to this person who she's never met/seen? In "Angel of Music" she tells Meg about her music teacher, "the angel", because that's how it began and how else is she going to describe it? Yes, at the end, it says "Your hands are cold/It frightens me" but this is where I say that Christine can be afraid and unsure about something without being portrayed as a frightened little girl. Normal people fear things. She obeys her music teacher in dismissing Raoul, and then follows the Phantom so that she can finally learn more about him. She goes willingly to his lair. In "I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It", Christine didn't mean to 'attack' the Phantom when she took off his mask, she's just a curious person. Then, after seeing his deformity, she pities his pain. Imagine her delivering her lines in "Why Have You Brought Me Here?" with an unsure but decisively pitiful air instead of crying and being scared. 

Christine's parents weren't around to really teach her that some people are born deformed and that happens. Think of the time period, that’s not really something that was discussed. So when Christine sees the phantom/angel/man with a horrifying face, she has a really hard time comprehending it. Yes, his anger when she unmasks him is frightening, but the iconic moment when she gives back the mask evokes the line from the title song, "I am the mask you wear". Christine's talent, and through her, his music, is the part of himself that he shows the world. (I never understood that part until today, and really, the title song doesn't make ANY sense UNLESS Christine knew that the angel and the phantom/opera ghost were all the same person) Christine is, as many people are, afraid of what she doesn't understand - the Phantom's deformity AND his feelings for her, doubled by her strong feelings for him that she can't identify. Christine has never been in love before. 

Yes, I am 100% Team Raoul when Raoul is played right, and Christine IS in love with him. But she has feelings for the Phantom which are real too, she just can't explain them when she is firstly confused in general about his entire existence - a deformed musician guy living in the basement? Back to "Why Have You Brought Me Here?", her description of his lair is just a description, there's no fear in those words unless an actress displays it. “His world of unending night” - again, he lives in the basement. Christine speaks of her confusion and somewhat aversion towards his face, but immediately returns to how the Phantom makes her feel, and the connection they have with each other through music "But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet sound..." She is also of course super disturbed because the Phantom just killed Joseph Buquet and that's really scary, but he was a drunk and a creep - I'll return to this point later. When her and Raoul sing "All I Ask of You" she means every word! 💕 While she may not fully know yet that the Phantom is in love with her (despite the wedding dress - she fainted, and she doesn't definitely look at the mannequin later, so she I think that she forgets about it until “Masquerade” or even the final lair, and thinks that she dreamed that part especially since the bride wore her face) but Christine knows full well that he dislikes Raoul. He did call Raoul "Insolent fool, this slave of fashion". But she decides that Raoul's love - a love of support, protection, and a bit of nostalgia, like a fairy tale - is what she obviously wants over the Phantom's temper and jealousy, despite the feelings she has for him and their connection through music. So when Raoul and Christine get engaged sometime in between acts one and two, it is absolutely what she wants and she thinks that the phantom/angel is hiding from her and the world since he angrily dropped the chandelier and basically told her to leave with Raoul the night of Il Muto. So she knows that not telling anyone about the engagement is the safest plan for Raoul. Especially considering her line to Raoul, post-Buquet's death "We must return/He'll kill you!" So when the Phantom returns during "Masquerade" and says "Your chains are still mine. You will sing for me" she IS scared for Raoul and her relationship with Raoul because the Phantom hasn't given up on his feelings for her. 

And in "Twisted Every Way" she talks about how this time the Phantom will take her to his lair and she doesn't want to go willingly anymore. She thinks that the Phantom doesn't trust her now that she's engaged to Raoul. (Also, since Christine doesn't wear an engagement ring for the rest of act two, did she call off the engagement with Raoul to assuage the Phantom? If so, you go girl! More proof that Christine makes her own decisions) Even though she straight up says "Raoul, I'm frightened. Don't make me do this. Raoul, it scares me. Don't put me through this" she talks about her fear of being kidnapped, but a part of that fear is of Carlotta, Piangi, and the managers in the room who don't give a damn about her feelings and will force her to perform in Don Juan Triumphant. Christine isn't weak, she goes right up to Carlotta's face like "you evil woman" and I've always thought that the line "I cannot sing it. Duty or not" from Christine was actually just her being sassy. Of course she can sing it she’s Christine Daae! With this new perspective on Christine I find that "Twisted Every Way" would be sung rather angry and a little facetious instead of crying and unsteady. She doesn't need that chair! She fainted in the Phantom's lair because she was shocked by a wedding gown with her face in it and then the mannequin moved!! She's not feeling that way now. I think that this is what Christine is thinking: "Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live?" 

Are you guys seriously asking me to do something that I'm super uncomfortable with?!

"Can I betray the man who once inspired my voice? Do I become his prey? Do I have any choice?" 

Can I trap him like that? “Who ONCE inspired my voice”, I'm trying to move on from this guy and our unhealthy relationship, and you want me to confront him??? Just because he's being horrible to you doesn't mean that you can use me as a pawn. More historical context: When the her MALE employers (the managers) tell her she has to perform, no, she doesn’t really have a choice.

"He kills without a thought, he murders all that's good"  

This returns to the point of Joseph Buquet. He was not "all that's good". She just says this part to lie convince everyone that she's playing along and pretending to see their point of view as to why she should be in the opera against her wishes. I especially think this because it leads into "I know I can't refuse, and yet I wish I could".

Then we have rehearsal and "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" and then "Wandering Child". Oh boy. She knows exactly who calls out to her at her father's grave but questions his intentions and whose point of view she should be looking through simply by saying "Angel or father? Friend or phantom?" Which role in my life are you playing right now? It's kind of sassy actually.

Angel-teacher

Father-leader

Friend-friend 

Phantom-murderer who loves me

When he picks teacher, she is relieved because they haven't had a music lesson in months. This is a simple joy that she’s missed somewhere deep down. "Wildly my mind beats against you/You resist yet the soul obeys..." She's known for so long that the phantom whom she fears and her angel are one and the same, but she needs some type of comfort from this person who means so much and so many things to her. But then Raoul interrupts. Eh. Jeez, Raoul! Such a hero, but you're preventing major development! Oh well, moving on. 

"Point of No Return" - there's HELLA sexual tension! This is really the first time that the Phantom and Christine have spent 'quality' time together since "Music of the Night", and that was MONTHS ago! She doesn't think for a second that Don Juan is being played by Piangi, she knows the Phantom's voice right away. 

Music IS their main connection...performing HIS music that he wrote FOR her? Especially in such a high stakes situation = 😍😍😍🌹🌹🌹🔥🔥🔥

She takes off his hood so that the two of them can finally stop pretending it's Piangi. And then she unmasks him to see his real face when he tells her “share with me one love, one lifetime” because you need to see someone’s full face when they say stuff like that! And the Phantom is trying to finally be heard by the world, through his opera and his love for Christine. It’s time for him to finally be revealed as himself, therefore symbolically revealing his intentions and emotions. Note that following his unmasking, the Phantom has the most constant stage time and says the most that audience has heard from him throughout the whole show. Symbolism for this idea comes from the title song: “I am the mask you wear/It’s me they hear”. I never liked the portrayal of a Christine that unmasked him to be mean. But after doing so, her worst fear comes true, he becomes angry and kidnaps her. 

I've never heard anyone talk about this, and I think it's really important: The line "Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?" means that Christine either:

1) Doesn't know that the Phantom has killed Piangi. The managers/audience don't discover the body until AFTER she has been kidnapped. She won't find out then until after the final lair. So she may mean by this line that she doesn’t entirely think this, but she suggests that while he left her for those months, he was off killing people and now he’s just back because of his jealousy that he calls ‘love’. She says it just to start a fight and he bites back, not honestly agreeing, but conceding to her bad opinion of him. “That fate which CONDEMNS me to wallow in blood...”. 

OR

2) She had automatically assumed that he killed Piangi in order to play Don Juan and of course she's furious. 

And then the final lair happens and Christine is equally sassy and compassionate. And I also imagine that there is a ton of leftover sexual tension between the Phantom and Christine because they just performed "Point of No Return" and now she's in a wedding dress and she can really look at his face for the first time. It's super unhealthy (he's threatening to hang her boyfriend/ fiancé and that wasn't a surprise move on his part) and the Phantom is not her first choice but she has always had unresolved feelings for him and that's why the "you are not alone" kiss is so passionate. That love is not out of nowhere. 

I also think it’s possible that Raoul tells Christine to give the Phantom his ring back while they are “offstage”. Christine would keep it as a memory of the unfortunate, yet totally deranged, man who fell in love with her and keep it as a sign to show everyone compassion because everyone has a different story, but Raoul hates the Phantom so he’d think it's gross. She doesn't fight Raoul on it, because even though it's a really good lesson, it's also a really toxic memory. And then she leaves with Raoul for their much healthier and very loving marriage. She is slightly traumatized of course, but strong. 

Pretty please comment and ask me questions!!! 

[nadaelkoshairy]

Freakish Greek Mythology Stories

Well, well, where to start with Greek mythologies? When you hear the word Greek gods and goddesses, I am certain your mind have just clicked that it’s most probably a topic about the wise, however it’s completely the exact opposite. It’s just a chaotic world, that pretty much needs a superior other god to just control this mess. However, they just managed and lived with.

Just as it comes to this part of the world, I get pretty sure I can find more than a whole community living up there on Mount Olympus maintaining the light, rain and sea, etc... Even history can’t compliment them with anything further than being called nutty by nature.  

Even though, these bizarre stories have been as lessons for the Greek, I bet it has something fun revolving around it, because having an affair with a swan, protecting your baby in your thigh or mistaking your son for a plant are definitely not just lessons.

Last but not least, condoms would have solved most of their problems and saved a whole lot of innocent souls. And please, the gods should never try being funny. Thank you.

 10.  Zeus

While being the king of Gods on mount Olympus and the god of the sky and thunder, he has had so much fun using his status in the community of Gods. Zeus was the typical jerk who possibly made most of the female population hate guys and hold a grudge against them. Even though, we haven’t heard of him for a while now, but his stories have been revolving all around us ever since. Zeus does have a rank for the biggest assholes in the Greek history and most probably the first. He had a thing for cheating on Hera, with anyone and in sometimes could be anything.

And yes, you most probably guessed his story of the next lines. A typical cheating story, but of course with a “Zeusian” twist. Well, it started when he was allured with Leda, and to get to her he had this perfect most logical decision to shift into a swan. Even worse, she was actually lured to have an affair with a swan. Pretty Sure the only good thing we got out of this is blessing our world with Helen of troy.

 9.      Hera

Of course, Hera wasn’t any better than her husband was; both wackos were literally made just for each other. Also being the queen of Gods was much of a punishment for every creature in the universe. Although she had a knack for creativity more than her husband did, but anyways the devil is most probably clapping for her ever since. Hera has been throwing dozens of punishments on so many Greek women and of course thanks to Zeus for that.

Zeus as we all know was playing around a lot and it doesn’t matter what he would do to reach a women. Whenever he was having some fun, a nymph called “Echo” would have some nice talk with Hera for matters of distraction. However it wasn’t a good idea, because when Hera made the discovery she had that nymph voiceless, unless if it had to repeat someone’s last couple of words!

Pretty much, no one could get bored of Hera’s stories, saying another one can give you another laugh for next couple of hours. It always has been thanks to Zeus, this time Hera impregnates herself (because she’s an effing strong independent woman, let alone she’s actually a goddess.) Giving birth to Hephaestus and just throwing him off Mount Olympus because he had some deformities and she can do better. Bet some of them just wished they had condoms.

 8.      Athena

Well yes we have been just through the first two in the list and it’s almost like we’ve had enough, but nothing worse than starting a war for no…logical reason?

We see here, Athena the goddess of wisdom, craft and of course war, had some issues too. It was a normal beauty competition between her, Hera and Aphrodite and the judge was Zeus until he rejected and gave this choice for shepherd from Mount Ida called Paris. Unfortunately, this poor Paris was a judge between three goddesses with supernatural powers, who tried to bribe him. Choosing Aphrodite (not because she’s the fairest, but she promised him with Helen, so yeahh.) While he was promised with Helen, Aphrodite promised to start the Trojan War. Of course in collaboration with the other fellow maniac and partner in crime, Hera.

Maybe, Athena can have more than one story, too. Apparently, winning over one of the gods in anything is assumed as a sin. Because she had troubles with being first over everyone, otherwise you don’t have a place in this world. A normal lady called Arachne was an exceptional weaver as she got the talent perfectly. Nevertheless, as soon as Athena heard of that, there was instantly a competition to be set between both of them. And as winning over Athena isn’t the best thing to do, Arachne was transformed into a spider. Now she’s just weaving forever. Still better than you Athena.

No wonder they had to have their capital called Athens.

 7.      Ixion

Ixion was a just a pathetic guy until things got better and Zeus had some pity for the guy to the extent of taking him up in Mount Olympus. Shouldn’t have trusted your instincts, Zeus. Because as soon as Ixion was there along with this community, he had a thing for Hera. A bit bigger than just a thing. Zeus was doubting Ixion’s loyalty so he had to be put under a “Zeusian” test. He created a cloud looking just as Hera and left it for Ixion’s fantasies to become real. Not enough weirdness he was actually seduced by a cloud, but the cloud was impregnated with what we know today as a centaur.

 6.      Kronos

Out of all the gods, I truly believe Kronos is the biggest asshole, even topping over Zeus who is his son. But now we actually have an explanation for Zeus messed up life. It’s genetics.

This dude was obsessed with power as much as Zeus was obsessed with getting every women in Greece. However, Kronos was a typical-god freak with anyone who would try to surpass him and his power. For that reason, he just had to kill all his children and end their lives. How he killed his children? He ate them all, except Zeus who was lucky enough. However, I am sure, the whole woman population would have been very grateful if Zeus was another delicious feast for his father.

Don’t forget, Kronos castrated his father. For the same exact reason.

 5.      Apollo

Before we start this story, we shall give a round of applause for Apollo taking the prize for the smartest way to escape an island. Apparently, his only solution was shifting himself into a dolphin. Yes, just as you read it and weird enough, it worked. Escaping 101.

He was left to grow up on an island, which somehow can never leave it and almost just stuck there for the rest of his life alone. Until this plan just clicked in his brain and he decided to embark on an adventure of his own. Because being a dolphin is so badass, he just had to discover his way. However, while on the way he found a ship that was having some hard time in a storm, so as a typical dolphin he jumps in a helps this ship to find somewhere safe. All while being a dolphin. Ehm... Apollo Dolphin, I mean.

 4.      Tantalus

Honestly, this guy was just trying to have some fun and might as well entertain Demeter who was really sad for her kid was kidnapped. And we also may call it gods’ humor, because that was never a lesson for anyone.

He was having a feast for god buddies and fellows. A barbecue actually (Yup, barbecues are a pretty old thing now.) Tantalus, being a funny guy just decided to barbecue his own son and feed him for the guests (Well, maybe meat was a bit expensive for him, or the meat he had saved for this feast was just rotten so he had no other choice.) However, well gods can of course differentiate between human meat and red meat, so he was busted and left to die out of hunger and thirst.

 3.      Hercules

Definitely, not all of this community are assholes and jerks, you get to see a hero every once in a while. Also, while some heroes can have their jerk-moments, Hercules was one of the purest in this chaotic environment. He was always seen as a very strong and brave man who would rescue the people of Greece and help the gods in different missions. And when he died, he was instantly sent to Mount Olympus to live among the gods and goddesses.

The story here tells that there once was a giant called Antaeus who was thought to be immortal while having his feet touching the ground (Perks of having your mother Gaia as the Earth.) The said beast was just killing anyone who would go to challenge him, until Hercules discovered the mystery behind his immortality and it no longer became a mystery. How he killed him? Picked the beast of the ground until he drained the life out of him. Pretty easy.

 2.  Erysichthon

A very rich and greedy man of the name Erysichthon was never really one who fears the gods and pretty sure didn’t get anything of those lessons. Once upon a time, he just cuts pieces of the sacred trees, and may we put more than a million line under the word “sacred”. Of course, the gods had to take an action, and Demeter was the one in chare this time for what this rich guy did. And as creative all them gods were, Erysichthon’s punishment was to live hungry for eternity. He ate everything he had or bought, he almost sold his daughter for food (Lucky he didn’t eat her.)

At the end, he just ate himself to his death.

 1.      Minos

Minos was just another man with no super powers like gods, but he was the king of Crete, which gave some sort of power, of course. And as normal as its getting, and we are acquainted now to the Greeks’ weird mythologies, Minos just had a whole lot of bad deeds and intentions.

He had some help from the King of Megara’s daughter by tricking her, to kill her father. But then, Minos decided that the best way to say thank you is to actually punish her for the crime by drowning the girl.

[unnamedblogggggggg]

Reading Medieval Monks

I’ve been reading The Name of The Rose recently, and after the first 150 or so pages (which I admit were kind of boring, although interesting in their own way) the book really picked up and has begun to go from merely good to amazing - which is something I didn’t expect to get from a book about monks in 14th century Europe.

The book itself is about a murder mystery that happens at a monastery. The surrounding happenings are explained in the book, suffice to say Christianity is in disarray, the pope having moved from Rome to Avignon in France due to the chaos of Italy, emperors becoming strong independent of the pope, various heresies springing up as from nowhere and being brutally put down via inquisition. It is in this time that Adsen, a young Benedictine monk novice from somewhere in Germany, comes to travel with William, an older Franciscan monk, in order to learn about how to become a monk.

Up to this point it’s basically like a fantasy novel only instead of learning meaningless bullshit you learn actual useful things about the history of Europe and life back then. The style of the book isn’t 3rd person but is a bit more interesting than that.

The entire story is written as a last will or recollection of all things that happened at the monastery in the 7 days the book covers. This will was then found by some other guy and translated and then forgotten until our author, Umberto Eco, managed to find the manuscript, and then merely published it with a foreword and short explanation of how monk life worked at the start of the book. Thus the entire story, other than the subtitles of the chapter names, is written in 1st person by the monk Adsen, now an old man who regrets his sinful life and believes the Antichrist will come any day.

I haven’t actually read the book to the end yet, but the story is really cool - despite the fact that magic obviously isn’t real you still get people who believe that witches exist, the devil hiding in every corner and actual ghosts that guard the mysterious library for which the monastery is famous for.

But the actual reason I’m writing this blog post that pretty much no one will read is because one very special thing: the humanism in it. There’s no elitism from either the author Adsen or his teacher William, they are humble christian monks who only wish to find out the truth about the murder and do their jobs to the best of their ability. Adsen is a curious young man with a wry and subdued sense of humor, who grows throughout the book - and the supporting cast of characters all offer various tales and viewpoints which I still respect Umberto Eco to have managed to capture as an aspiring writer myself.

And the chapter I really want to highlight in this book, the one that really stayed with me, is the one where Salvatore explains to Adsen his life story. Salvatore is a grotesque man - his face has a cleft lip, his eyes bulge outwards, unsymmetrical - and this is reflected in the way he talks, a mixture of latin, french, italian and the translated language of the book.

He was born in a barren land, described in words of disease and famine, the land specked with pockmarks, and some of the people of the land turning to banditry and cannibalism to make their fortune. Salvatore soon left this place and went with a group of misfits around Europe, joining one heresy, leaving it, killing Jews, Bishops, others in mob violence first for non-Godly and then Godly reasons.

“Why Jews,” Adsen asks him, in what some would call surprising perhaps. Adsen explains that the actual enemies of the heresy he was part of were the wealthy lords of the land. Salvatore of course explains that these were too powerful to be fought, so they fought the enemy that couldn’t defend himself. The violence this mob he was part of enacted was brutal, and their end brutal as well. Salvatore seemingly one of the few who wasn’t starved out in a forest or outright killed, and who managed to get a job in a monastery that satisfies him.

Adsen listens to his entire story, helpfully not transcribing his broken and mixed language but merely writing down what he heard from Salvatore, after the finished story he is amazed at the adventurous life his fellow monk led and thinks in this way: the crazed violence and murder of a mob is different from the cold, calculating violence of a murderer. And he does not think Salvatore is capable of having done the murder, and does not seem to hold any ill-will to Salvatore.

Thinking on it now, Adsen doesn’t hold any ill-will to anyone except for himself, the sins of Salvatore aren’t particularly brought to light, he himself excuses the behaviour of two monks who had homosexual relations and even sex with each other, and doesn’t judge either of them, even admitting that he himself has had similar thoughts in his old age.

He does however have a renewed sense of wanting to figure out things about the heresies he heard mentioned in Salvatore’s confession and goes to ask his teacher William about them - how they are formed, why they exist, how you can differentiate one from the other, etc.

And in this explanation the book really shines, and I have no doubt that such a person as William truly did exist in those days, and still does in droves today. He explained it via a metaphor of society of lepers. He is a Franciscan monk, a follower of the order of St. Francis. He explains it thusly, when Francis went to preach to the people, and saw they did not want his preaching he went out to a graveyard and preached to the carrion birds feasting on the dead there.

This grotesque twist of the tale that Adsen heard, which was St. Francis merely preaching to the beautiful birds without any of that context, shocks him. Afterwards William describes the ultimate goal of St. Francis - he saw in society that while most people were living as they should (the medieval concept of the flock, the dogs and the shepherds representing people, soldiers and priests) there were those who were denied a place in society. He calls these lepers, after all, lepers are the most visible stratum of society which is denied a place in it.

He explains that heresies don’t spring up out of nowhere, they come about because of a very real hopelessness of people, and this hopelessness, not the particular heresy, is what causes them. The common man doesn’t care about theological things. He or she doesn’t give a shit about the nature of the trinity - life sucks, people are willing to kill and die to punish the people that makes it suck and improve the world.

Which is why St. Francis wanted to bring these “wayward sheep” back into the fold, so to speak. He lived with lepers, made an order based on poverty for its monks, and so on. But he had to - and this was key for his goal - join the church itself, because how could he bring back into the fold people who were rejected by society if not by using society itself. Joining the church would, however, deform his message and intent.

Adsen, hearing that both violent revolt didn’t work and neither did peaceful integration is confused as a young man - but as an old man he knows the answer, to not do anything. Of course, you don’t have to agree with everything a book tells you, and it makes sense for him to be this way as a devout Christian.

Reading this in the book has made me realize something, however - when we, meaning of course the middle class in this case, criticize governments we dislike we never really turn that same dread towards governments we like. To put it in a different way: we dread Trump and what he’s doing, it makes us feel guilty that we live such comfortable lives while strangers are dying and suffering for nothing.

But where was this dread and guilt when Obama was doing much the same thing? Unlike Adsen however I feel firm in my beliefs. Hopefully I’ll be able to read this book to completion.

[valkyrie-echo]

Project Echo, Part 1: Chapter 10 (What the Shadows Hide)

Part 1 Summary: A long-buried Hydra disaster, a monster in the shadows, a missing child. Eight months after the events of “The Winter Soldier”, Bucky turns himself in to the Avengers on one condition: They must help him find a girl snatched off the streets by Hydra seven years ago. In their quest, the Avengers accidentally unleash a horrifying creature of darkness and shadow, intent on making their quarry its prey.

Chapter 10: What the Shadows Hide

Clint watched over the gathering from the rafters, detached. He was frustrated, and for no good reason. Something was wrong... Something big. his gut gnawed and twisted. He peered into every corner of the room, yet he still couldn't find it. The shadows made his skin itch, but he could see into them well enough- there was nothing.

"You feel it too?" Natasha swung up to his perch, "It's not following Rogers or me, it stayed here when we left."

"When did you start noticing it?"

Natasha shrugged, "I'm not sure exactly. Something's been bugging me for a couple of days, but it's gotten... stronger or bolder- I feel like if I just moved fast enough I'd see it."

"And I'm not sure if we'd want to." Hawkeye. A cool enough code-name for an agent. Hell, it made a pretty awesome superhero name, but he couldn't rely on sight with this thing. His eyes were practically useless to him right now. What he heard, smelled, felt- those senses were telling him there was an intruder.

"It never ends, does it? There's always one more bad guy."

"Since when do you mind?" he laughed.

Nat smiled, "Who said I minded? Come on, food's getting cold," she dropped lightly. Clint watched the room a bit longer, then followed.

He felt it move past him then, stronger than ever. As he fell he looked upward. He landed awkwardly, tipped into Thor and nearly brought both of them to the floor, but he finally locked in a fourth sense- he saw it. Only for a second, only long enough to make his heart race and his knees go weak. A face. A deformed, monstrous, grinning, inhuman, blood-freezing face. He didn't even blink, and it was gone. At least, from sight. He could still feel it up there, watching him.

"Clint? Are you alright?" Thor was shaking his shoulder. He looked for whatever Clint was staring at but saw nothing.

"Hey-" Natasha touched his arm, concerned.

It was like a spell breaking. Clint snapped into action and ran down the hall to the observation room. It was dark- too dark. Steve and Banner turned as he thundered in, "GET TO THE LOBBY, NOW!"

"What's going on?" Tony came to the window while Doctor Johansson continued to cut Bucky from the arm, "Are we under attack? Is it Hydra?"

"Finish working on him," Clint gave the operating room a quick one-over, lots of light, "You're fine here."

"HEY," Tony shouted as Clint shoved Steve and Banner out of the room, "Tell me what the fuck is going on!" he growled as Clint vanished around the corner, "JARVIS, life-signs scan, NOW!"

"No unregistered life-signs detected," JARVIS broadcast his response throughout the Avengers rooms of the Tower.

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" Banner needed advanced warning if Hulk was supposed to come out. Springing it on him gave the controls over to the Hulk which was never a fun party trick.

"Clint, what did you see?" Natasha had her gun out, but it was useless without something to shoot. Thor held out his hand and a second later Mjolnir flew down through the stairwell.

"JARVIS, turn on all the lights to max!" The lights faded up brighter and brighter until a few of the Avengers had to close their eyes. The whole room was flooded.

"THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Tony came over the intercom, pissed.

"Something's in the shadows, it's watching us."

"What kind of something?" Steve didn't like the sound of this.

Thor turned to Clint, "What did you see?"

"A face," he looked around as best he could in the light. The thing was gone. He couldn't even feel it, "a fucking monster face. It wasn't even there for a whole second, I don't think it meant for me to see it."

"Let's move to an interior room- there's a big dark window behind us and if something's watching..." Banner shivered.

In the end they settled in the recovery room. It only had a few cots, but this way they had a single door separating them from the operating room. When Tony and Doctor Johansson rolled Bucky out for the night covered in thick bandages, they each fell to a cot and were out in seconds- despite the unknown threat.

"I'll be right back," Steve was watching blood seep through the wrappings on Bucky's stump.

"It's not a good idea to go alone," Natasha stood to come with him, but he waved her down.

"I'm getting the stone. I'll be fine. JARVIS, light up the Tower for me?"

"Certainly, Master Rogers."

He left the others and headed up into the building, careful not to look out any of the windows. Ever since he was a kid, Steve had a fear of looking out of a window at night. When he was 4 he'd opened the front door and a black dog had pounced on him out of nowhere. It was friendly, but he was scared of dogs for years after that. Some creature in the shadows frightening enough to make Clint Barton go that white? He didn't want to even catch a glimpse.

"JARVIS, lights?" The stairwell was getting dim the higher he climbed. His hair stood on end, it felt like something was only a couple of steps higher, just around the curve in the staircase.

"Apologies, Master Rogers, but I do not appear to have control over those lights. I believe my systems have been damaged. I highly recommend returning to the others."

Perfect, "OK, I'll just be quick."

He took slow, deep breaths to calm his pounding heart, then pushed on up the stairs. He thought he heard something ahead of him and froze- but there was nothing there. Steve closed his eyes and listened as best he could. He'd done this storming bases with the Howling Commandos- let his other senses tell him where the enemies were. They were never wrong, and they told him he was only a few steps away from it- whatever it was.

Steve was even slower going up the last flight of stairs. He kept his eyes closed until he got to his door, it was more reliable. The thing was just ahead of him, watching. He stopped on the landing and opened his eyes. The door was buckled, warped in its frame like something had smashed into it from the inside until the hinges broke and the door sagged. Steve readied himself for a fight, pushed it open and-

Thor went looking for Steve after 10 minutes. Natasha, Clint, and Banner stayed behind to hold control of the recovery room, should the need arise. Four rows of remote Suits guarded them from the outside.

Mjolnir sparked and crackled, ready to destroy any would-be assassin. He made it up the stairs without incident. It seemed as if nothing was wrong- until he got to Steve's apartment. There was no door, and the inside was absolutely wrecked, it looked as if a great battle had taken place here. Thor cautiously entered, looking for his friend. Several man-sized holes in the wall suggested a battle with something. On the living room wall was a large spray of blood. Thor wound Mjolnir up as he followed the trail. It stirred a breeze he could easily whip up into a hurricane, if need be.

He found Steve on top of a smashed door near the back of the apartment, but it was likely too late. The shadows around him were dense and they formed a shape- like some kind of beast, though a severely deformed one. It loomed over him and began to pour into his eyes and mouth.

The darkness around him smelled metallic- it wasn't shadow anymore, it was something worse, something unnatural. Steve's eyes opened and the darkness burned from within. Tendrils of shadow snaked from his mouth. It took but a second for Steve to be taken. Thor hadn't even had time to process what he was seeing, "JARVIS, ILLUMINATE THIS ROOM!" there was no response, so Thor took matters into his own hands.

He aimed Mjolnir at the ceiling and released as little of its power as he could. The raw electricity made the lights flash incredibly bright. Steve seized up, there was a wild, animalistic roaring, then the black fire was blasted from him. He went limp, the lights exploded, and Thor wasted no time in grabbing him and racing back down the stairs.

Natasha cursed when Thor came running in with an unconscious Steve. Blood covered most of Cap's face and neck, not to mention his clothes. She hit Doctor Johansson to wake him and ran over to help Steve onto a free cot.

When they cut off his shirt they found claw marks trailing from his right shoulder across his torso and down to his left hip. The flesh around the wound was gray, dead- but every so often there was color, and the wound looked to be hours old, not minutes, "Thank the Gods," Thor mumbled to himself and quickly grabbed at Steve's hands. Clenched in his left fist they found the healing stone.

Chapter 11: Six Days Later