#but he bought the fighter arena and now hes the boss so his first move is to immediately get me out

[axellis-archv-2]

nobody look at me

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. vi

→ one | two | three | four | five

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part six / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 4,211

☾vi. part vi: kite

2 years later

Gunshots, ear-piercing screams, and indistinct shouting filled the lobby of the hotel that made up the Mafias headquarters. 

What had started as a normal day for the Mafia and their naive guests enjoying their stay in Yorknew City took a turn for the worst as pure chaos took over the building in a matter of minutes. 

The lifeless bodies of innocents and members of the Mafia alike dropped to the floor as the rogue team of assassins took the hideout by surprise. It was a well-calculated invasion that left the Mafia devastated in their unsuspecting demise.

Among the bloodshed and havoc, a slender girl with piercing violet eyes dashed about elegantly, her brilliant white hair flowing in waves behind her. She was moving faster than the normal person could see, leaving fallen Mafia members in her wake as her katana cut through the mass numbers of their defense. 

The girl’s murderous, purple aura radiated off of her figure dauntingly, forcing those incapable of nen to drop dead instantly. Those who had nen abilities of their own sensed the menacing aura immediately, not even daring to challenge the assassin in combat. 

As the sickening gore and violence grew to its peak, Sayomi felt as though she’d never been more alive. 

Smiling confidently as she ploughed through her targets with ease, Sayomi lost herself in the rebellion, at last getting her vengeance against the Mafia that had kept her bound for the past 2 years.

Upon the shout of her allies already stationed in an elevator, Sayomi sprinted to join them, a grin plastered on her face as she had barely broken a sweat.

The group of hostage Mafia assassins made their way up to the 51st floor, having secured the lobby from sending any reinforcements up to the main office.

The guards surrounding the Mafia boss’ room were their toughest matchups yet, but still no match for the rebel group of assassins fighting for their escape.

Sayomi relied on her needles, expertly positioning three of them between her knuckles while she scanned her opponents. 

Using up two out of three on a single guard and her remaining one on another, she was empty-handed as the last man charged towards her with a knife in his hand.

Focusing her strength and power on her left hand, she immobilized the man that rushed towards her with a single swipe, removing the man’s heart in a fraction of a second. The movement was so precise that not even a single drop of blood was left in her hand’s trail.

I’ve gotta thank Zoldyck assassin training for that one.

Her allies defeated their own opponents in no time, the group now heading into the office where the source of their ankle monitors sat in wait.

The mafia boss sat rather casually in front of the rebel group of assassins, seeming unfazed by the sudden invasion.

He was capable of admitting his own loss, recognizing when he was clearly outnumbered and outclassed. Raising his arms above his head in defeat, the boss located the controls that would release the ankle monitors from the assassins.

Sayomi’s anklet fell to the floor with a clatter, freeing her from the Mafia’s grasp at last. 

Not caring much for her allies or the fate of the remaining Mafia members, Sayomi vanished from the scene in a streak of white, making her escape while the damage was at a minimum. She had no desires of becoming a notorious criminal, even if it was within the underground association of gangs and assassins,

She eventually made her way back down to the lobby, which was still a war zone between the Mafia and rogue assassins. 

With light, nimble steps, she made her way through the madness with ease, strolling out the front door of the Mafia’s headquarters.

☾vi.

The cool midnight air welcomed Sayomi and her newly discovered freedom, as well as the distant wail of sirens and screaming citizens.

Thoughtlessly making her way over to a car parked near the hotel, she studied her reflection in the side mirror, wiping the dried splotches of blood off her face with her sleeves.

Well, would you look at that? Unharmed. I was expecting at least a bullet or two.

Now having gotten all the blood off of her face, Sayomi paused momentarily. She stared at her reflection with what seemed to be a mix of bemusement and repulsiveness.

She was 18 years old now, marking the 8th year she had spent away from her home. But in those 8 years, especially the past two had changed her more drastically than her family would ever know.

She had been forced to mature and throw away her youth in order to survive, and now she was finally realizing that it was okay to live for herself. She didn’t need the approval of her family to tell her what she was doing was right or wrong. 

Free at last. 

Heaven’s Arena, here I come.

☾vi.

On a tight budget from the remaining pocket money she had last earned from the Mafia, Sayomi bought a new outfit before taking a cab to the towering building of Heaven’s Arena.

Even this late at night, she could hear the cheers of excitement from inside the arena, the moment she stepped out of the cab. Running a pale hand through her hair, she took a deep breath before pushing the doors to the main entrance open.

Being some time past midnight, the line for registration was rather short. Sayomi reached the desk in no time, filling out a form the clerk had provided her with.

“Sayomi Zoldyck, your number is 1099. They’ll call your number on the first floor of the arena. So make sure you remember it!”

The clerk was a bit too bubbly for Sayomi’s liking, and so she decided to get moving before she’d do something she’d regret.

Strolling down the hallway with her hands resting behind her head, Sayomi squinted as bright lights illuminated the first-floor arena in front of her.

The mix of contestants and spectators roared in excitement at the fights in front of them. 

The arena was sectioned off into 4 rows of 4, each fighting platform labelled with a corresponding letter.

Sayomi took a seat in the back row of the crowd, examining the fights going on in front of her. There were no weapons allowed, and for that same reason, no one seemed to be using their nen.

The first floor is just a street brawl.

Sighing at the lack of etiquette displayed in the fights, Sayomi leaned back in her seat, waiting patiently for her number to be called.

Around 5 matches later, Sayomi’s number was finally called through the intercom.

“Number 1099. Number 2305. Please make your way to Ring C.”

Rocking back upwards to get out of her seat, Sayomi stepped lightly down the stairs, entering the arena.

Arriving in front of Ring C, she placed her katana and needles down on the floor, hopping into the ring unarmed.

Her opponent had already been standing in the ring, an arrogant smirk decorating his face. Contestant number 2305 was a tall, bulky man with styled brown hair and various tattoos scattered across his body.

“Oh dear, my opponent is a little girl. If you ask nicely I’ll get this over with quick!” the man was full of himself, laughing at his own remarks made against Sayomi.

In return, Sayomi only sighed, dropping her hands to her sides as she stared at her opponent, uninterested in talking back.

The referee debriefed the rules with an unchanging tone, “On the first floor, we appraise each participant’s level. You are allowed three minutes to demonstrate your prowess.”

With a glance to each side, he yelled, “Then, begin!”

At the referee’s notice, Sayomi’s opponent came rushing towards her at full speed, ready to attack.

Unstable. What a careless fighter.

Sayomi stood her ground as the man came charging towards her, stepping left in the last moment to swoop down and yank her opponent’s right ankle upwards with pure strength. 

Standing back up, the man was flipped from underneath, falling forcefully to the ground head first. 

Sayomi now stood over her opponent, waiting for him to get up and continue the fight.

Unbeknownst to her, she had used a little too much power, causing the man to go unconscious with his fall.

Frowning at the lack of movement from the man, Sayomi looked up at the shocked referee with a confused expression.

Oh, shit. Did I accidentally break his neck? 

A loud groan sounded from the man’s slumped figure on the ground, catching Sayomi and the referee’s attention. 

She sighed in relief at the man’s sign of responsiveness, the referee now announcing her as the victor of the fight.

Surprised cheers sounded from the audience in the stands, filling the arena with excitement as Sayomi’s fight had ended in a matter of seconds.

“Number 1099. Proceed to the 50th floor.” The referee handed her a ticket, quickly turning to get help for the unconscious man before she could even mutter out a thanks.

On her way up to the 50th floor, Sayomi had learned all about the floor system and rewards at Heaven’s Arena. She needed to pass the 100th floor in order to get her own room, which is what she was aiming for.

However, because of the influx of contestants past the initial floors of fighting, she was in for a good amount of downtime, waiting for her next fights to be called.

☾vi.

Sayomi slept in the stands that night, as her fight was scheduled for the next day. Compared to the harsh weather of Meteor City and the makeshift cardboard floors she’d slept on, the air-conditioned fabric benches at Heaven’s Arena were a big improvement. 

☾vi.

The matches on the 50th floor progressed one by one, only room for a single fight to go on at a time. Here, the audience placed bets on a fighter of their choice, attracting a larger audience than that of the first floor.

Sayomi was yet again unfazed by the sheer size difference between herself and her opponent, sensing that his power was only skin-deep.

The bets were overwhelmingly in her opponent’s favor, leaving those who could sense the difference in aura as well as crazy guessers making up her odds.

Just as she had predicted, her opponent was a fraud. She utilized the same exact skill she had used back down on the first floor, sending her opponent flying upwards using his very own momentum against him.

It was a basic principle of fighting to never over pursue. Her opponent wasn’t worthy of her to use anything more against him than the basics.

The crowd was devastated having lost their bets, but the very few that had sensed the girl’s potential sat smiling at their fortunes.

Among this crowd was a tall, thin man in his early 20s.

Sharp, black eyes were partially covered by a blue tweed hat, his face and slender figure framed by exceptionally long flowing hair, as white as Sayomi’s.

He sat comfortably among the stands, with a subtle, yet satisfied expression on his narrow face, only moving from his seat after spotting Sayomi leave the arena.

☾vi.

After claiming her prize money, Sayomi made her way to the canteen for a late lunch. Her next fight on the 60th floor would be in 2 days, which meant she would have to sleep in the stands again.

With another fight having started in the arena, the canteen was mostly empty. Sayomi grabbed a tray as she lazily blew a few strands of hair away from her face.

Opting for a few pieces of bread, Sayomi reached her hand out to grab a slice, when she felt someone watching her.

It was a powerful aura. Not menacing or evil like she expected, but clear and intimidating. Forcing her hand to continue with her selection of bread, she tried to withstand the aura as if she hadn’t noticed anything.  

Damn. That’s one impressive aura.

Moving to pay for her selection of food, Sayomi prepared to whip around and confront her follower. However, the presence had vanished.

As if it had never been there in the first place, all her senses of the stranger disappeared into the air. Zetsu.

Walking back to a table with her eyes fixated on the floor, she attempted to seek out the figure using her En.

There you are.

She felt the faint presence of the skilled nen user on her left, sitting at a table about 20 feet from hers.

The man had not moved since she’d entered the canteen. He’d only been watching with bored eyes as Sayomi figured out his location at last.

Slowly turning her head to the left, Sayomi was prepared to take a glance at the man, when she saw he was no longer there. 

A radiating aura on her right shattered her thoughts as she broke out into cold sweat. He was freakishly fast, and silent at that.

“Zoldyck.” The man’s voice was dull with the slightest hint of amusement as the assassin’s last name rolled off his tongue.

Spurring into action at the sound of his voice, Sayomi had a needle between her knuckles, prepared to fight. But upon seeing the man’s face, she faltered, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

Why does he look so familiar?

She kept her guard up as she examined the young man’s now smiling face. A pale, angular face, with dark almond shaped eyes and sharp facial features. 

A gasp left Sayomi’s mouth before she could even try to contain it. 

She was thrown into a flashback gazing at the young man’s face.

7-year old Sayomi dashed through the massive forests that surrounded Kukuroo Mountain. Her neatly braided hair loosened with each step, twigs and leaves tangling themselves into her bright white hair.

It was Friday, and that meant Kite would be trespassing into the Kukuroo Mountain forests, her family’s property, any time now. 

Kite was a 13 year old boy with waist length silver-white hair much like Sayomi’s. He had been born with the natural talents and abilities of a skilled hunter, allowing him to push through the Zoldyck Testing Gates with ease.

On top of his sheer strength and abilities, Kite had a peculiar bond with animals. It was almost as if he was able to communicate with them, and in return the animals trusted him, regardless of their size or species.

Kite first started sneaking his way into the Zoldyck family forests about a year prior. With a great interest in nature and the animals that inhibited it, Kite was pushed towards visiting Kukuroo mountain after hearing how it was the one place no one really had information about. He always came around the same time when the sun began to set on Fridays. 

Long story short, young Sayomi had discovered the trespassing boy one day after running out of the mansion, crying after an argument with her mother.

In her young and devastated state, Sayomi had become attached to Kite, who would listen to her ramble about her family or study butterflies with her. It was a childhood infatuation that Sayomi had with Kite.

So when the older boy with the willowy figure stopped showing up on Fridays, and soon all together, Sayomi experienced her very first heartbreak.

Because of the limited contact she had with the outside world and people in general, Kite’s absence proved to take a bigger toll on young Sayomi’s heart than he should’ve.

As she grew older and started her assassin job, Sayomi had less time to think about the sudden disappearance of the boy, only feeling his loss when she was all alone at the end of a long day. 

Now sitting across from him at a small table that left mere inches between the two, Sayomi was stunned and conflicted.

Now age 24, he was much taller, his long limbs looking as if they alone could shield her from the rest of the world and her problems. Foolish thoughts.

At last opening her mouth to speak, Sayomi felt all her strength wilt away as she faced the boy who’d once been her only friend and source of solace. “Kite.”

Kite’s tight-lipped grin grew wider at Sayomi remembering his name. To be honest, he’d had trouble recalling her name the first time he saw her in the waiting area of the 50th floor.

It was a mere coincidence running into her here, as he’d actually been looking for the student his master requested he teach the basics of nen to. Hearing Sayomi’s name during the announcement of her fight rang a bell in his head, and he was eager to catch up with the little Zoldyck girl from his childhood.

Kite saw their meeting as a friendly reunion, evidently unaware of the amount of emotional stress his vacancy had caused her. Because to him, Kukuroo Mountain was merely another pitstop for his studies, the little girl having been just another local inhabiting the new area of his research.

Thus, when several of the girl’s needles slipped from her grasp as Sayomi stared at Kite with a deep aura of sadness, his smile faltered, utterly confused.

“Is everything alright?” Kite looked at Sayomi with the same sympathetic eyes he’d used to when they were little.

Now recognizing that the look in his eyes had never been more than one would give a kicked puppy, Sayomi’s past false assumptions of Kite possibly reciprocating her feelings faded into emptiness.

In his eyes I was never more than a neglected child in desperate need of consolation.

Forcing a smile onto her face, Sayomi nodded a bit too vigorously, trying to hide her thoughts.

“Yes, of course. I was just so surprised to see you after all this time.” She gripped the side of her pants with white knuckles in an attempt to maintain her composure. 

Though he wasn’t thoroughly convinced, Kite gave Sayomi another warm smile, attempting to lift the mood of the conversation. “Ah, I see. My apologies if I startled you, I wanted to test how much your abilities had improved since the last time we met. And I have to say I’m impressed, your aura has grown an astonishing rate.”

Sayomi laughed in return. “I’ll accept the compliment, but I think we both know I’m nowhere near your level. What brings you to Heaven’s Arena?”

Before she knew it, the malice and sorrow that had been her reunion Kite turned into a lighter, casual exchange of words. This must be a sign that I’ve matured at least a little bit. Don’t be so dramatic, he was only a childhood crush after all, we’re still friends.

Kite told Sayomi of the mission he had received from his pro hunter master, who went by the name of Ging. He was to find and train a teen named Stick Dinner, who happened to have left his hometown to train at Heaven’s Arena.

Sayomi marveled at his various adventures, slightly jealous at all he had got to experience. “So you have a master now? But you’re also teaching someone else? Doesn’t that technically make you a master too?”

Kite stopped to consider her words, realizing that in a way she was correct. “I suppose if you think about it that way, then yes, I’ve become an apprentice-master of nen. But that doesn’t mean much, I still have a lot to learn from Ging.” 

Sayomi knew to seize an opportunity to become stronger when she saw one. “In that case, will you teach me as well?” 

Kite blinked at the teen in front of him. He was now noticing how much she had obviously matured from the last time he’d seen her, and not just from her aura.

Her eyes were still the striking violet color, and her hair was ever white with the slightest of waves, but she was physically stronger, lean with muscle and absent of any more roundness surrounding her jawline. A true Zoldyck in the flesh. Something about her aura tells me that she’s been through more than just her family’s abuse. Sayomi, what have you been up to?

“You want me to teach you? Why not your parents or instructors? I bet I’m still no match for any of them.”

Sayomi grimaced at the mention of her parents. “Well… we’re both already here anyway, and it’d be nice to spend time with an old friend!”

It was a white lie, not completely false, but also far from the truth.

Kite raised his eyebrows at her reasoning, still not completely understanding why she’d settle for him over her renowned, powerful parents. I suppose a sparring partner for my student wouldn’t do any harm…

“Hmm… I guess if that’s what you truly desire, it would also benefit my student to have a strong training partner. Are you sure?”

Sayomi’s eyes lit up along with a long overdue genuine smile. “Yes, of course! Thank you so much, I promise I’ll make myself worth your time!”

She reached across the table to embrace an unexpecting Kite out of happiness, feeling absolutely safe in his proximity for a moment before realizing she shouldn’t get used to his comfort. One last time. Old habits… they’re so hard to break. 

Moving backwards away from the stunned man, Sayomi muttered a quick apology. To this, Kite only laughed, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Ha… no need to apologize, we’re friends after all. Would you like to accompany me while I search for my student?”

Sayomi ran a meek hand through her hair, shameful and unsettled of how vulnerable she had become in front of a man.

Get your act together, he’s your instructor now. 

The two rose from their seats, walking slowly back towards the arena where Kite’s student most likely would be.

“Ah, of course. Is your student here on the 60th floor as well?”

Kite smiled at her compliance, nodding in return. “Yes, I believe so. I searched through the records of fights, and it seems he won his last fight on the 50th floor. Ah, but that reminds me, do you currently have a place to stay between your fights?”

“I- actually I don’t. I’ve been sleeping in the stands for now… But so far it’s been rather pleasant!” Sayomi realized how little sense her words had just made, cringing visibly.

Kite looked down at her with an amused expression. “I’m aware you need to pass the 100s in order to get a room to yourself… but until then would you like to stay in mine?”

Yo what the- “EH?!” Sayomi blinked twice at her instructor, as if she was waiting for him to dismiss it as a joke. 

Kite laughed out loud, showing the most genuine expression she’d ever seen from him. “I happen to have an acquaintance on the 200th floor that won’t be back for a while, so I’ll be staying there with my student for the time being. That being, my room on the 199th floor where I left off a few years ago is still available. I just figured it would be much more pleasant for you to stay there until you get a room of your own.”

Making sense of the situation, Sayomi glared at the older boy, her lips flat in a straight line. “Are you enjoying yourself playing with my senses after all these years? You know I’m still annoyed at the fact that you were able to sneak past my aura.”

☾vi.

The two childhood friends exchanged taunts and jokes with each other, arriving at the arena in no time.  

Once there, Kite was able to sense out the distinct aura of his student, Stick Dinner amongst the contestants in wait of their matches.

Stick was a scrawny boy, probably around Sayomi’s age, with a brown afro and abnormally large sense of humor. 

Declaring that training would start the next day, Kite provided Sayomi with his old room key, bidding her a good night as he settled in the temporarily vacant room on the 200th floor with his student. 

The now group of three couldn’t have had more contrasting personalities, and Kite was curious to see how their training would go. For the first time in a while he found himself anticipating the next day, intrigued with how much the little Zoldyck girl from his childhood had expanded her own potential.

☾vi.

Sayomi stood in the doorway of Kite’s room on the 199th floor. Though faint, his familiar scent surrounded her as she walked farther into the simple room.

There were no signs of anyone having stayed in the room, the furniture and appliances brand new. Content with the silence and privacy the room offered as opposed to the arena stands, Sayomi flopped onto the bed, the soft mattress breaking her fall.

Sayomi was conflicted. Within her mind and heart, she was trying to grasp the exact feelings she’d felt after seeing the boy who had broken her heart 11 years ago. 

Should I be sad? 

Did I ever actually feel that way about him… or was I just happy because of the attention he gave me? 

Maybe this is just what it feels like to have a friend.

☾vi.

to be continued.

a/n: the backstory’s getting pretty long:/ but i promise i’ll get to the real pairings soon!

taglist open!

[krinsbez]

My Transformers Fancon: Decepticon High Command, Part III

-Tarn of Nyon commands the Decepticon Secret Police, in charge of stomping out internal dissent, and personally leads the DSP's elite Justice Division, which hunts down and brutally kills defectors. As demonstrated by his renaming himself after Megatron's hometown and having his face remade into the Decepticon logo, no one is more loyal to Megatron and the Decepticon cause, not even Soundwave. For one, Soundwave justifies his loyalty by being deeply in denial about the monsters they've turned into, whereas Tarn has no such illusions, and is fanatically devoted anyways. Soundwave also has his own ambitions, whereas Tarn genuinely cares for nothing but seeing Megatron's will be done. Not having realized that Megatron views this slavish devotion with contempt, Tarn is completely baffled why Megatron values Soundwave more than him, and subsequently hates the Intelligence chief with the intensity of a supernova. The only person he hates more is Starscream, who routinely attempts to betray Megatron and yet somehow remains second-in-command. Depsite his attempts not to show his true feelings to his superiors, they're both well aware of it; Soundwave ignores it, except when he needs to manipulate the DSP commander, whereas Starscream finds Tarn's impotent rage hilarious and makes a point of provoking him for kicks. -Thunderwing of Iacon is the newest member of High Command. Powerful, skilled, brilliant and charismatic, he led his Mayhem Attack Squad to some of the Decepticons' greatest victories. He came up with Pretender shells (though the tech was perfected by Shockwave and Tarantulas). He has never shown the slightest hint of disloyalty. He is the only member of High Command that Megatron worries about; everyone else, Megs has a bead on, is totally confident he can take on, or both. Thunderwing, however, is a complete enigma, and is every bit as badass as Megatron. For this reason, Megatron took the unusual step of assigning one of the Megacons, Bludgeon, to serve under Thunderwing and thus keep an eye on him.

-Tyrannitron of the Sector 4/6.4-K Campaign is the youngest member of Decepticon High Command, having been born only a few million years ago (you can tell he's warborn because his name refers to his first battle rather than his place of birth). A brilliant strategist and tactician, and an equally adept personal manipulator, Tyrannitron is the commander of the Decepticon Battle Fleet. While he has shown himself quite capable of commanding troops in the field as he is ships in space, he ever commanded Vehicon drones planetside. This because, while a Point-One-Percenter like his parent Archforce (to whom he bears a striking resemblance) and thus able to punch far above his weight-class, he is a Mini-Con. Given the might-makes-right philosophy of the Decepticons, this would mean that, where he to lead ordinary troops, he would face constant challenges to prove his fitness to lead, which while he is confident of winning said challenges (again, Point-One-Percenter), he doesn't have the patience. On the upside, it also meant that, unlike, say, Thunderwing, he has managed to avoid setting off the suspicions of Megatron and his inner circle.

(thanks to @cirex101 for helping me with the next three)

Jhiaxus: Second best.  That is the phrase that most Decepticons, and even some Autobots, would describe Jhiaxus, a brilliant scientist.  Second best to Shockwave.  Jhiaxus knows this what his peers think of him, and it infuriates and drives him in equal measure.  In order to escape from under SHockwave's shadow he revolutionized the Decepticon's budding system, creating legions of warriors almost overnight.  However, these warrioers are little more than cheap cannon fodder for the Decepticon cause, and have a shorter life expectancy on the battlefield compared to the older Decpticon warriors, earning them the derisive nickname "Genericons".  At the urging of Shockwave, Megatron assigned the Genericon legions to mere garrison duties, or to throw them at Autobot defenses whenever Megatron needs to distract the Bots from his true objective.  This ignoble fate to what was once his crowning achievement only spurs Jhiaxus to improve upon his designs, upgrading the Genericons, an creating even more horrible monstrosities in his lab.

Currently, Jhiaxus is in command of ‘Con controlled Cybertron

Onslaught: A decorated veteran officer of the Primal Vanguard, Onslaught left that prestigious institution in defiance of Functionism's, and by extension, Senator Proteus', growing power on Cybertron.  Onslaught signed on with the Decepticon movement, and used his military knowhow to win several victories during the Functionist revolt.  Onslaught and his elite team, the Combaticons, were responsible for several daring raids into Autobot held territory, and gained a reputation for planning almost every outcome.  However, the old saying, "No plan survives contact with the enemy", rings true, and although he plans for almost anything, Onslaught cannot plan for every eventuality, and if enough things go wrong, will lose his cool and resort to simply blowing the slag out of the enemy.   This deficiency prevents Onslaught from moving up in the Decepticon Hierarchy, but he doesn't let it show on the surface, and is liable to kill anyone who attempts to taunt him. 

Razorclaw: While Onslaught plans ahead of the battle, Razorclaw makes his plans durring the middle of battle.  His ability to take the unexpected with a clear, cool head makes Razorclaw's Predacons one of the fiercest squads in the entire Decepticon war machine.  Emotionless almost to Shockwave's level, Razorclaw was a gladiator, but he and his team operated in Vos, and as such never met Megatron in the arena.  However, he had heard of Megatron, and pledged his loyalty to him at the onset of the Functionist Revolt, ruthlessly hunting down Proteus' supporters with a silent enthusiasm that was as unnerving as it was effective.   Razorclaw is straightforward, and doesn't seek advancment in the ranks, seemingly content in his current position.  Some see this as laziness, but if you look beneath his contentment, you will see that Razorclaw is one of the most dangerous Decepticons because of this; he cannot be bought, bribed, intimidated, cajoled, or manipulated.  All that matters to him is the hunt, and many an unfortunate Con that got on his badside became the prey. 

BTW, something I tried to indicate but I'm not sure came through. There were two kinds of gladiatorial combat on Cybertron prior to the Great War, Arena Games, which were legal, restricted to trained gladiators, and had strict rules to minimize lethality, and Pit Fights, which were illegal, anyone can have a go, and the only rules are to put on a good show and try not to kill the audience. Mind, given how much punishment TFs can take, Pit Fights aren't that much more brutal or lethal than Arena Games. The real appeal of the Pit Fights is in their unpredictability; you can see a master of Metallikato go up against some big guy with a rocket punch, see a Beast-former take on a Tank, or who knows what.

Anyways, Razorclaw was an Arena Gladiator, because (as SB and SV poster Q99 put it...)

Razorclaw is a smart fighter, and he loves outfighting his opponents. Arena Fighters are almost all trained combatants at the upper levels, of the type he loves defeating, so once he's in the upper ranks his foes are almost all high-quality... though still not a match for him. Pit Fighters, you're more likely to see foes rely on raw power or a gimmick, and while he respects the more skilled fighters there, he doesn't want to waste time with the 'chaff' who got in because they happen to be a tank or such, or deal with silly 'three lesser bots vs one champ' matches, and as pit fighters are less regimented even good fighters there spend more time dealing with that kind of thing.

Which adds a bit of tension because Megatron and half of High Command were Kaonian Pit Fighters, so naturally they're going to think poorly of a Vosian Arena Gladiator. BTW, speaking of raw power versus skill, I imagine that... -Megatron, of course, is both hella powerful and crazy skilled

-Thunderwing is as well.

-Shockwave is actually a terrible fighter but makes up for her lack of skill with raw power.

-Starscream is the opposite; physically the weakest member of High Command, but makes up for it with skill.

-Scorponok is a beast, and he's got raw talent at fighting, but has no polish or finesse.

-Cryotek's strong, and used to be a good fighter, but he's rusty.

-Soundwave is a good mix of power and skill.

-Tyrannitron is similar, but has a fondness for trickery, head games, and such.

-Tarn is just this side of invincible, but finds brute force distasteful.

(the next three are thanks to @cirex101 again)

-Jhiaxus is unskilled, makes up for it with power, but not to the same extant as Shockwave.

-Onslaught has strength, but finesse he saves for his strategies.

-Razorclaw is both skilled and strong, but not to the same extant as Megatron, or Thunderwing.

-Dirt Boss was a scrappy little guy who always preferred to cheat. This may be one of the reasons he's dead.

Now I know what you’re thinking; Dirt Boss? You didn’t mention Dirt Boss. That’s because he’s dead, having been killed by Prowl. Before that, Dirt Boss was commander of the Combat Engineering Corps, and a member of Megatron's inner circle. Since his death, the Constructicons have resisted any attempt to appoint a permanent replacement and instead take turns holding the office. Megatron is not happy about this, but is unwilling to make an issue of it.

A few bits and bobs about Deception High Command:

-The Megacons are not technically members of High Command, but as Megatron's personal goon squad, each member holds comparable authority. In addition to the original line-up (sans Bludgeon) of Airachnid, Blackout, Thunderblast, and Lugnut, they've since added Lugnut's lover Strika, her conjunx Obsidian, and Megatron's personal medic, Scalpel. -A personality conflict I neglected to mention; while she doesn't act on it, Shockwave really doesn't like Cryotek, for reasons that should be obvious. -I haven't figured out what Tarn did before the War; I can't decide if he was also a Pit Fighter or if he did something else. What do you guys think?

-In addition to Shockwave and Tarantulas, a surprising number of the top Decepticons have science backgrounds (thanks to SVer KageX)

For Starscream since he was leader of the Exploration Corps perhaps his expertise lies not in the lab developing new weapons but in "surveying" areas and coming up with ways to exploit resources as well as how to survive in them. Think of the difference between a Geologist and a Chemist. Yes there is some overlap, but they focus on different areas of application. Starscream focuses on planning "field operations" and harvesting resources in his area of scientific expertise. He would know how to fix a shuttle, but it would not be his area of expertise, just something he picked up along the way as he was exploring distant areas of the universe. It would also explain his slippery nature, as this job would likely involve meeting with and negotiating with Alien Races. So Starscream became quite good at "negotiations" and other political endeavors.

- Shockwave is a polymath who is a master of all fields of hard science. Jhiaxus is more specialized; he does cybergenetics, mechanobiology, electronics, etc. but if you ask him about astrophysics or climatology, he's got nothing. Scorponok is interested in organic biology, but doesn't advertise this, since your average 'Con is at best apathetic about organics, and many actively hate 'em. Thunderwing is a dabbler; he reads scientific journals*, and will periodically come up with a clever idea, but doesn't really pursue the sciences.

-How Thunderwing came up with Pretender Shells: after conquering a particular planet, he made a point of studying their tech base, realized that some of their tech could be combined with Cybertronian tech to do something interesting, and sent Shockwave a memo. Shockwave agreed he was onto something, and she and Tarantulas made something out of it.

[nigeiadigitalmarketingcompany]

Politics is Show Business for Ugly People…

Digital Elixir Politics is Show Business for Ugly People…

  “It’s too late baby Now it’s too late” –Carole King

  Politics is show business for ugly people. And you’ve got to play by show business rules.

Show business is all about preparation, getting the act, song, movie, TV show, ready and then marketing it so people will be aware of it and buy it.

And you always want to be first, and you want to eliminate all chance.

You want an upward curve, even if you start low and slow.

You want no lulls. You want to keep people interested, by teasing them with new information on a regular basis.

You want to control the narrative.

And what is the narrative the Democrats are trying to sell?

Damned if I know. The only thing they can agree on is they hate Trump. I hate KISS, but that doesn’t keep them off the road, playing to empty arenas, their fans support them. And speaking of KISS, Gene Simmons is one of the greatest marketers of all time, a complete blowhard, but he’s making it work for himself and the band. Maybe he learned it all from Neil Bogart, who changed his name from “Bogatz,” to give the right “impression.” Bogart failed on his first attempt, trying to sell a record of Johnny Carson routines, it went instantly into the cut-out bin, but then he pivoted to disco and Donna Summer and KISS.

And Bogart was a showman, full of crap. Seemingly everything he said was inflated and wrong. Remember when there were four simultaneous KISS solo albums and Neil said they were instantly gold? The press bought it, even though all of them but Peter Criss’s came back.

You see it’s all about perception. Sell the myth, not the facts.

It’s more important that Elizabeth Warren be seen as a fighter against the man than any specific policy position. People don’t go that deep. CONGRESS doesn’t go that deep! Did you read the “New Yorker” story on Al Franken? His accuser told boldfaced lies, there was history disputing her account, but she got out there first and what she said ruled, even though she was working for a pro-Trump radio station. Once again, the Democrats reacted, and now they’re doubling-down, can’t see why they were wrong. Kirsten Gillibrand, YOU’RE HISTORY!

The press said Trump was losing because he brought up the “i” word before the Democrats. But Trump knows you get ahead of the blowback, you make the first punch, and you load the media with so much b.s. that it can’t keep up.

Meanwhile, the public doesn’t know the difference between impeachment and conviction and Pelosi seems as old as she really is. She’s Perry Como after the Beatles. Doesn’t she realize THE RULES HAVE CHANGED?

Happens in entertainment all the time. Suddenly you can’t sell hair bands. Suddenly hip-hop is burgeoning. And if you fight the tide, you drown. Oh, little fish can still swim in their own private backwaters, but if you’re playing for everything, if you want to run the table, you’ve got to be looking to the future, not the past!

Trump speaks to the public. Pelosi speaks to insiders.

That’s why AOC gets so much traction, she speaks to the public-at-large, it’s less about legislation than attitude, which is move over you old farts and let the younger generation take the reins, you oldsters have no idea what is going on anymore!

But Team Pelosi says you’ve got to run to the center, because you’ve got to appeal to those districts that flipped for Democrats in 2016. That’s like making Aerosmith play acoustic, and refusing to let them play new material.

Of course, Aerosmith doesn’t play new material, and Chris Christie is a big Boss fan. It’s kinda like long hair. Once upon a time it symbolized something, you were either for us or against us, then it was just a fashion choice.

Anyone who plays to the rearguard is always disrupted. Didn’t you ever read Clayton Christensen? Everybody pooh-poohs the new, saying it’s not as good as the old, and then it becomes better and the old folds overnight. Christensen says to embrace the new, and then eliminate the old when the new gains traction. The DNC is being disrupted and their answer? Let’s go back to Good Ol’ Joe. That’s like asking your grandfather for music advice.

So what we’ve got is candidates who want to throw the baby out with the bathwater and the Democrats are freaking out, they can’t even get aligned on one position. Criticize the Republicans all you want, but after Trump they all got in line. That’s how you win, when you play like a team!

And if you try to appeal to everybody, you lose. The road is littered with middle of the road artists, who fail on the chart and play to a dwindling audience in Branson and clubs. You want to get people EXCITED! That’s what Warren and Harris and Bernie and Buttigieg are doing.

And what does the establishment say?

THEY’RE TOO FAR LEFT!

AC/DC was too heavy until suddenly they weren’t. “Back In Black” is still streaming prodigiously today, “You Shook Me All Night Long” is an American anthem! Of course Mutt Lange helped. The right has Karl Rove, who do we have on the left?

So the reason you wanted impeachment is so the whole world would watch, so Trump’s bad behavior, criminal or not, would infect the public. When the truth outs, it’s hard to deny.

But no, it was never time. Pelosi and her pals are like a Silicon Valley outfit that never releases its product. It’s so busy getting it right that it can never come out. Meanwhile, Facebook becomes so big by having a motto of “move fast and break things.” Forget that Zuckerberg is the enemy now, he’s on top of the pyramid, he controls the conversation more than not only Congress, but the mainstream media! Furthermore, he just pivoted, saying it was about private conversations, when the Democrats are still looking for that elusive consensus. Everything worth paying attention to starts off the radar, small, and then it blows up and BECOMES THE MAINSTREAM!

So Barr says Trump is innocent.

The Dems folded their tent.

Then Mueller sends his letter and they think…wow, maybe there’s something here. Like a band the label has stopped working that is suddenly selling tickets…the label is on to something else, it’s hard to get it restarted on your old product.

And then the Democrats placed all their hopes on Mueller testifying. That’s like taking someone with a great record, who’s never been on stage, and having them headline Coachella! No one would do that, the odds of failure are too high.

So Mueller didn’t deliver. Oh, don’t make it about Russia, the Dems thought Mueller was gonna blow a hole through the curtain, reveal that Trump was culpable and should be charged. Not only did Mueller not do this, he said as much after he delivered his report earlier…this was his final statement!

And the Dems are playing by old rules and crying to the nonexistent refs that the Republicans are cheating. No, Trump and his posse have invented new rules, like no one in the regime needs to testify. When they up the ante, so do you! You don’t say there’s no crying in baseball!

So now, on left wing radio, all the talk is about getting the transcripts from the grand jury. God, even in the NFL when you lose, you lose, no matter how heinous the call. Because without rules, you’ve got no game.

And that’s what’s happening now, WE’VE GOT NO GAME! Trump and his cronies are running ragged and the Dems and the media are so flummoxed, they do NOTHING!

Come on. Even the most lame influencer knows you’ve got to deliver product on a regular basis. You’ve got to hook the audience and deliver. That’s certainly what Trump has done, and all the left keeps saying is HE SHOULDN’T TWEET!

Meanwhile, these same wankers are posting to Instagram, the national pastime, and despite their constant disparagement of the internet and Twitter, Twitter is where the news happens, and if you’re not on it, you don’t know what’s going on.

So impeachment failed in the marketplace. It’s like Annapurna, Megan Ellison’s movie company. No matter how great the film, and she’s put out plenty, they never reach expectations. “Booksmart,” one of the best-reviewed movies this year, which appeals to oldsters and youngsters…dead. Product is only one part of the puzzle, you need the aforementioned marketing. The big studios may put out lame films, but they’re experts in marketing them.

When you fail, you write it off. Just look at the Fortune 500, that’s what they do. Did Bezos try to improve the Fire phone? No, he deleted it from the catalog. And today, your mistakes don’t haunt you as long as you continue to play and make noise. Once again, the game has changed, there’s so much noise that the biggest challenge is just reaching the public. And if you don’t, people forget what you were selling, they’re inundated with new messages.

And I’ve used a plethora of metaphors here, but now I’m gonna use one more. Pro football used to be a running game. Now running backs make a fraction of what they used to, all the emphasis is on passing and receiving! You change with the times!

Seems like everybody can change with the times but the Democrats.

So forget impeachment. This is the gang that can’t shoot straight, even if they have clear evidence that Trump needs to go, the right will spin it otherwise and rule the marketplace, i.e. public opinion. And just like a record, you don’t have to appeal to everybody to win. How come Trump knows this and the Democrats don’t?

Instead of clinging to the past, trying to rebuild the old edifice, it’s time to build a new one. And there are a number of candidates promising this. Safe rarely succeeds. Can you say Romney? Can you say Kerry! One of the reasons Obama won was because he HAD little history. There was little to nail him on and he promised hope.

Believe me, Ol’ Joe is not promising hope. He’s like a boomer musician waiting for Hilary Rosen to save them from streaming. But Hilary’s moved on from the RIAA, and streaming has already won, soon there won’t even be any hardware to play discs! Apple kills the iPod because the innards are no longer manufactured, and the Democrats keep trying to prop up oldsters, held together by baling wire. Bill Clinton had Linda Bloodworth-Thomason and her husband selling him, and despite baggage, he won anyway!

Who do the Democrats have?

Maybe it’s time to hire Bill Belichick.

Oh, that’s right, HE’S A TRUMPER!

  ~~~

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    Politics is Show Business for Ugly People…

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