#ca event: hive magica

[bladeverbenas-blog]

Corvo had always understood magic as an otherworldly force that corrupted everything it touched. Whenever he had wielded his Outsider-given powers, lives were ruined irrevocably or ended outright. As the bodies piled up, Corvo grew to think of his magic in the same way an assassin would regard a basket of vipers: dangerous, unpredictable, but highly effective.

Leave it to the city, then, to destroy his preconceived notions of magic in a decisive blow.

He sat atop a lamp post, quietly ruing his existence.

It was one thing to make him wear a dress and stockings—colored black and white with a golden highlight, complete with a  puffy skirt that ended several inches above the knee—but another entirely to make the dress fit perfectly. Corvo was quite honestly aghast at how easy it was to move and fight in this thing—and fight he did, firing blazing pink arrows from a hand crossbow at the... creatures nipping at the heels of everyone in the city.

But the crowning disgrace? The reason he was sulking by himself in some quiet corner of a very noisy city?

The mouse ears currently sitting atop his head, complete with a shiny black ribbon.

[alicesoneandonly]

“I hate this city. I hate every last one of you.” The transformation was a success, leaving a rather disgruntled rabbit in a bright coloured outfit complete with a bow and arrow.

“And what am I supposed to do with this?”

[cosplaygoddess]

@hyper-light

To:       Drifter From:  Noire

>Hey.  I need help? >These little crying angel things are in my apartment.  They keep trying to bite me?

>I can’t hurt them with my wooden sword.  Please come over as soon as possible!

>If you can.

While sending these texts, she stood on a nightstand in the corner of the main room.  When any of the five cherubim in the room got close to her, she would swing her wooden sword at it; she would bat one across the room swiftly, but it would just get up and start sadly hovering over to her again.

Around 10 minutes later, Noire sent another text. > ... One bit me.

[einwish]

§ Yes, yes, but we all know that puella magi are far superior to any of this pink frilly love-arrow nonsense. §

[fairyknxght-blog]

{♡} Sailor Scarlet {♡}

@silvertintedpoison

She had not been back in the city long and already it was living up to her expectations. Having spotted a young woman sobbing in the shadow of a dark skinned creature, Erza automatically reacted.

However, rather than summoning her sword, she found herself in a sailor scout dress, bow in hand. Not about to question it, she drew its string, an arrow appearing. 

Snap. The arrow was released, lodging into the creature. 

It turned, sighted her and began to advance towards her. 

“Tch.”

She would never admit it, but the odd creatures that seemed to be making a menace of themselves around the city were a good distraction from the anger, the helplessness of finding herself back in the city that she had completely forgotten.

“Run!” 

The knight called to the sobbing woman, waiting until she had gone before continuing.

“I do not know what you are but I have no doubts you are some science project sent to cause even more misery by those who keep us here.”

Holding her bow out to the side, it began to glow a warm pink, transforming into her usual sword. Her grip tightened around the grip. She patiently allowed the beast to step closer, pushing aside the nagging heartbreak that seemed to be stabbing at her heart the nearer it got to her. 

“In the name of Fairy Tail…I’ll put an end to your sorrowful existence!”

Pushing off the ground, Erza used her speed the launch herself at the beast, her war cry filling the air as her blade sliced the head from the beast before landing lightly behind it’s falling body.

[psychic-master-will-archive]

@mediumofthestars liked for a starter!

“Would you believe that this outfit isn’t nearly as bad as the one I wore when I was younger?” While it was rather fluffed up in appearance and didn’t mesh as well with his mask, it was still better than that circus outfit he wore as a teenager.

[opticallyenhanced]

So, it’s time to unveil Shalem 11′s transformation in the event. The cold assassin who has quite the opposition towards magic now becoming a magical person? How could it possibly go wrong?

It can go very, very wrong.

Art Credit: @coluberfoxii for helping bringing this idea from thoughts to drawing.

No frills, no fancy dress, just one man who’s now got magic power. And how horribly it mixes with who he is. The conflict of a man from the future with all advanced technology delving into magic. And let’s just say he’s rather... unhappy with this turn of events.

[aeternuming-blog]

@desipiam​

heartcatch! hive ☆ magica

As per usual, when something new happens to Lloyd, the first person he seeks out is the Chosen.

The new power of flying is incredible. Lloyd tries not to think about its connotations from his own world and instead enjoys the sensation of weightlessness. He’d seen John fly around a few times, notably without wings, and he wondered if this is what the other teen felt like all the time. Drifting through the air, at a casual speed both leisurely and committed, Lloyd smiles full-faced up at the sky.

It takes a half hour for him to figure out with window is Zelos’s. He gets the wrong floor at first, accidentally spying on someone folding laundry at one point. The shock of red he spies through a window on second face of the building he inspects draws Lloyd in and he not-so-subtly presses his hands against the glass as he peers in.

Sure enough, that’s Zelos. Was he napping? Lloyd couldn’t tell.

“Zelos!” He’s sure that his voice is probably muffled, so the swordsman knocks his knuckles against the sill a few times.

[vulcanheritage-citta]

@boldlygold

Despite his superior Vulcan senses, he had no idea he was being followed.  The creature followed close behind him, hiding the click of its claws within the sound of his boots on the sidewalk. There was also the sound of the groceries in his bags shifting.

Spock felt quite pleased with himself. He’d managed to finish his work with minimal distractions, leaving with plenty of time to shop for the evening. He’d managed to get everything he needed for the romantic meal he wanted to prepare –avocado included.

The creature sped up, its claws clicking louder as it emitted a high-pitched chittering. Apparently, it was quite elated to have found such an easy target with so much love it their abnormally located heart.

Spock stopped in his tracks, his ears pricked. What was that? Someone had told him to be careful today, but he was never one to have the city’s trouble find him, mainly because he hid indoors when that sort of thing was going on. Well, he could hide at Jim’s when he got there, he also had to make sure his human was safe.

The chittering grew louder as the creatures slinked around in front of him. Spock did not notice. He just took his phone out and began to message him.

[txt]: Please go straight home after work. [txt]: You need to stay safe.

The creature darted behind a trash can and waited for his most vulnerable moment before charging. Spock glanced up as the dark cloud seemed to rush towards him

“Ah ---!” Beady eyes bore into him as a whole row of claws tore through his side where he heart was. It did not hurt his skin or his clothes, but the damage was done. He fell back onto the ground, dropping his phone and groceries. The creature laughed loudly as it ran off, disappearing down an ally.

Spock sat there for a moment, breathing heavily. His hand went to his side. He wasn’t bleeding. He was….okay? But he felt…different. What was he doing? He couldn’t recall.

Ah. He was taking this home to cook for…his…friend? No, that wasn’t right. Vulcans did not have friends. He answered only to his own needs here. His loyalty to his superior officer did not extend past basic ship duties. And there was no ship here.

“Hm…”

He felt nothing for Captain Kirk, suddenly. Oh well. What did he need this for? He picked up the bag of groceries and gently placed it in the trash can. He then pocketed his cell phone and continued his walk home. When he got there, he’d need to tend to a proper Vulcan’s nightly routine.

Quick dinner, quick bath, meditation and his research before bed. Didn’t he usually meditate with someone? No. Drowzee was a pokemon. Pokemon could live in their ball until they were needed.

This would be an uneventful night, it seems.

[cloudedblades]

i guess i kinda have to, so

here’s an uncapped starter call for magic girl!cloud. 

cloud will be primarily dark for this event, even if he does get a little flowery. however, you can certainly shoot him full of feel-good light beams, and he may even swap from dark to light as a result. or vice versa. we’ll see how things go.

in addition, any appearances of a light-based cloud will be female. yes, you read that right. all dark-based appearances will remain male.

that’s right: you make cloud happy and he’ll become a lady. weird, right?

[jyuryoku-blog]

URAVITY! THE GRAVITY MAGICAL GIRL!

fighting for love and... money!? she will do her earnest to give her parents the life they deserve with her heroic deeds! watch out, evildoers! ah, but even a pure and dazzling girl like her hides a secret -- will her feelings for her certain someone be a problem on her path!? keep an eye on the next episode of MY MAGIC GIRL ACADEMIA !

[beeroshi]

@ingoldentent

          “They call it a ‘holiday’ but I’ve never gotten a break on that day in my life.” That is of course what his standard of what a holiday is anyway, just a day spent doing nothing but taking the day off. Lately though, it’s more like his workload increased because of the special occasion, and with it, the celebrations. No matter how much he would change the topic, be difficult by not accepting gifts, or pretending it won’t happen, they’d still try to go through with it: his birthday.

          How annoying.

          “Doesn’t look like a break is happening here anytime soon either.” The city is under attack, but Yamato’s quickly finding out that the response to that statement is ‘what’s new?’

[tenkatori-blog]

“Ah... Bansai-san?”

Being seen in this getup was a tad embarrassing, he’d admit (not like he had any say in the matter). But this was... well, he’d expected this, right? 

even though he’s still a bit caught off guard, somehow.

“You have something for me?”

@headphonehitokiri

[einwish]

§ They’re running me out of a job. §

[fairyknxght-blog]

It was a small comfort to know that the city had not changed much since her last stay. As always, everything was chaos. It was a distraction at least. 

Having found a number of the larger creatures that seemed to have invaded Hive, Erza set to work, not slowed down in the slightest by the sailor dress she was wearing. 

A number of flips, slashes and spins later, all four of the beasts fell upon her sword. 

“Damn things...”

[wildberryoras]

     JOTARO is dead. His entire bloodline has come to an end. Their entire mission has failed. DIO has won and the universe is doomed to ensure whatever madness he sees fit to unleash upon it. His friends sacrificed, the sacrifices of generations ago were all for naught. It's impossible for him to change this because he will be trapped here for eternity at the whim of a bunch of lunatics. What friends that he does have here are content to live their lives as if everything on the outside never mattered. They don't need him. He isn't needed. He'd failed his reason for being. He is pointless.

Big. Small. They're all heavy together, these baby looking horrors that swarmed him tearing at his flesh where ever they can find it on the Stand, sapping him of his strength. Giving up here would be easy, allowing his doubts to justify why being eaten alive is what he deserves. Too bad he likes to be difficult. Being in this dump sucks worse than anything he's ever gone through. It's unyielding torture of a highly personal kind but it doesn't change how driven he is about what he cares about most.

Tiny claws slash at his nose and he thinks about Jotaro putting the origami butterfly he'd folded for the boy into his coat pocket rather than throwing it out. He thinks those nights spent sharing hotel rooms with Mr.Polnareff and chatting while he spent like an hour getting ready for bed while one the size of a wolf wrenches at his leg. Dozens of them gnawing at his arms can't keep away the nights in the desert where everyone had fallen asleep mid-conversation except for Kakyoin and he'd talk to Star Platinum as if he were any of the other Crusaders. The long car rides where their dire situation was forgotten in favor of heated arguments about the quality of the Tron movie. Dr.Kujo and him getting hotboxed right before Fight Club and spending the entire night laying on each other on the couch. Okuyasu with him squatting outside the convenient store talking about starting fights with the shitheads across the street and instead they talk about lifehacks for three hours. Relentlessly tormenting Badou. The World bringing him dinner no matter how many times he smacked it out of his hands. Koichi taking the time to interpret his convoluted emoji text messages. Mr.Avdol unwavering patience when it came to explaining anything or anything except intimacy. Gyro breaking into song and dance with him apropos of nothing.

Quaking with the effort of staying upright, there's the suggestion of an urge coming on, like when Jotaro needs to sneeze. Only it's nothing to do with the claw marks on his nose. The feeling grows more intense the closer his knee comes to hitting the pavement. If it touches down, he's finished. He won't be able to get back up. It's unbearable now. He can't take it. He's gotta dance right now.

Roaring his battle cry with the effort, he twirls into the air and grows lighter with each pirouette as the gremlins peal off him. They cower away from the light that Star Platinum has become and scatter to get out of the way of his heavy landing. He can feel himself shifting changing into something new as his feet move to a tune suddenly filling the air and where his hands pass over skin he can feel cloth blooming there. With a final pose and a shower of sparkles, he's whole again and he feels like a fucking Stand again for the first time since the Fragmentation incident.

White silk gloves trimmed with lace encase his fists, gold studs lining the knuckles. It matches the gold start embellishments on his turquoise skirt, hot pink accents popping here and there. His poofy sleeves are short to keep from blowing out when he flexes, but the skirt goes all the way down past his knees. The boots stay. The circlet stays. His change in outfit is acknowledged at best. He's busy

Knocking his knuckles together sparks a light that jars what brave monsters stuck around for the show. That flinch is when he gets one of them by the throat and squeezes until the light turns them ash billowing out of his hand, other fist hammering the next into dirt.

❝ ORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORAORA ❞

*:・ﾟ☆