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thesilliestrovingalive · 2 months ago

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Updated: February 25, 2025

Reworked Character #19: Tyra Elson

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death, sexual exploitation, SA, pedophilia, self-harm, and torture.

Real name: Tyra Rhoxane Elson

Nickname: Tyler

Occupation: Warrant Officer of Division 6, cadet for the P.F. Squad (formerly), and guerrilla for the Ptolemaic Army (formerly)

Retirement plans: To become a cosmetologist and open up a dog shelter

Special skills: Foraging for food and edible plants in the wilderness, expertise in all military weaponry and stalking, makeup artistry, survivalism, and breakdancing

Hobbies: Hairstyling, cloud watching, taking care of her dog, playing volleyball at the beach, and listening to music and sketching random doodles with Walter and Dilovar

Likes: Wearing her favourite knee-length pleated skirt of pastel pink, seafoam green, and golden yellow flannel fabric, adorable dogs, fighting against evil, her putty and plushie collection, and Walter

Dislikes: Cowardice, the Ptolemaic Army, feeling dirty and used, witnessing homes being destroyed, and having her Buck 110 Folding Hunter Knife and/or her two treasured plushies forcibly taken away

Favourite food: Chicken and waffles

Favourite drink: Zobo and mango boba tea

Sexuality: Demiromantic heterosexual

Gender: Transmaculine female

Age: 12 (in 2022), 18 (in 2028), 20 (in 2030), 22 (in 2032), 24 (in 2034), 31 (in 2041), 33 (in 2043), 34 (in 2044), and 37 (in 2047)

Blood type: O+

Weight: 104 lbs. (47 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 5” (165.1 cm) American ectomorph of Afro-Caribbean descent with a well-toned musculature, a spoon-shaped body, hips slightly wider than her full bust, broad shoulders, and curvy legs. She has semi-full lips, light caramel skin, cocoa eyes, acrofacial milky-white vitiligo, and the same hairstyle as Tyra Elson from Metal Slug Advance, but with light mahogany brown hair. She wears cut crease rose ebony eyeshadow, luxe-style Mountbatten pink eyeliner, and mulberry lip gloss. Her fingernails are painted in an alternating pattern of blue-violet and dark magenta.

Her right eye has a vaguely X-shaped scar and has been replaced with a glass one, which is a lighter shade of cocoa brown. Her left leg is a cybernetic prosthetic, identical to Gimlet's, but with a hidden blade, similar to Marco's, embedded in the centre of the sole. Unlike Gimlet, whose prosthetic takes up his entire leg, hers extends only up to her knee. She bears several scars, including: nineteen cigarette burns on the back of her neck; a slash mark extending from the center of the left side of her neck to her collarbone; a jagged scar running along the top of her right breast and ending at her epigastric region; a gnarled gash scar on the back of her right deltoid; cut marks on the back of her forearms; multiple whip marks covering her front torso; and fairly severe burns on the back of her lower half. Her central back tattoo depicts the decapitated head of a snarling, pallid Medusa with glowing red eyes, black sclera, boar-like tusks, and folded golden wings. Her hair is comprised of thirteen Caspian whipsnakes, and light purple blood pours from the neck, cascading down like a waterfall.

Her military gear consists of a metal dog tag necklace with her name, claret leather wristbands, a tropical indigo belt with an integrated loop to secure her sheathed hatchet, a holder for her tonfa, and a holster for her handgun. She sports a puce vest with four pockets, its original P.F. Squad logo on the back having been replaced by the Division 6 insignia. She wears a flaxen tank top underneath a short-sleeved Persian orange crop top. The crop top features an unfinished, crumbling terracotta pyramid topped with the forward-facing head of an azure-eyed male springbok. She wears dark green, greyish-brown, and charcoal camouflage army cargo pants, which are tucked into the same boots worn by Tyra Elson in Metal Slug Advance.

She has a claret waist pack secured to the back of her belt, which carries nail polish, lip gloss, eyeliner, an eyeshadow palette, three eye brushes, and her mother’s Buck 110 Folding Hunter Knife. The pockets of Tyra’s vest carry around a red jewel with a deep brilliance (a gift from Walter), a shimmering maroon stick of winter fruit punch lip chap, mango-scented perfume, a container of Fairy Sprinkles putty, and a circular amaranth pink pocket mirror. It also carries around a notepad and a black pen, which she uses to jot down key learnings, important details, and potential points to remember for later.

Over her crop top, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries around her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. Her forearms are wrapped in worn gauze bandages, and she wears two dark grey bandoliers: one draped over her left shoulder holds nail bombs, while a second wraps around her waist above her belt, holding .357 Magnum ammunition for her Colt Python. She carries a tropical indigo load-bearing backpack that contains camping equipment, fire bombs, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a DOLL bodysuit, and a Super Grenade. Her backpack even carries a cellphone with a metallic purple case and four containers of putty: Super Lava, Aurora Sky, Coral Reef, and Gelt.

It also carries two childhood plushies: Gloucester and Cecropia. Gloucester is a smiling cow plushie featuring orangish-brown blotches and a raspberry red bowtie with silver edging. The medium-sized plushie's once-white fur has faded to a worn ivory, and its left black button eye is missing, having been torn out. Cecropia is a 3 ft (91.44 cm) serpentine monster plushie adorned with Greta oto wings, shaggy mauve fur, magic mint tiger stripes along its back, and an adorable baby blue puss moth caterpillar-like face. Its features include two small, pointed silver horns, crimson fangs, and black-rimmed dandelion eyes. A visible dark blue stitch runs from the upper left side of its face to just below the right eye, suggesting that it may have been ripped or cut open at some point.

She wears a black scalloped lace choker featuring a Persian orange band lined with silver spikes. Tyra wears a personalised friendship bracelet featuring Dilovar's name in letter beads, accompanied by alternating rose gold, parrot green, and butterscotch beads.

Character summary: She comes across as reserved and apathetic to those who don't know her with a stoic facial expression and a tendency to speak bluntly to those she doesn't trust. It's her way of intimidating those she prefers to distance herself from, while also showcasing her strength and capability as a strong, independent woman. However, she’s a deeply compassionate, friendly, and supportive person with exceptional emotional intelligence skills. Tyra genuinely cares about those close to her, particularly her English bulldog, Angelica, and harbours a deep-seated fear of losing them suddenly. She'll fiercely defend Angelica against any insults, as she loves her dearly and treasures their time together. She believes Angelica is super friendly and harmless, despite being vaguely aware that she occasionally bites people's ankles or fingers without provocation.

She prefers to be called Tyler because it makes her feel more masculine and confident in herself. While she's okay with being called Tyra, she dislikes it when people use that name in a confrontational or angry tone. Tyra is fairly intelligent, thanks to her insatiable thirst for knowledge, her passion for self-directed learning, and her ability to draw valuable lessons from past mistakes. She’s naturally curious about the world around her and isn’t afraid to explore her surroundings, even if it means taking calculated risks. She has excellent parenting skills and is great with children, making sure they feel happy and safe. However, she struggles with self-doubt about her ability to be a good mother due to a past experience where she abandoned her children.

Despite her curiosity, she's very cautious and attentive, staying vigilant around new people and in unfamiliar territory. She has a bit of a dry sense of humour, often blending it with either macabre or lighthearted themes. She exudes humble confidence, but occasionally showcases her survival skills and bravery with a hint of arrogance. Tyra is known to playfully tease and engage in friendly competitions with rivals and friends to prove who has superior fighting and survival capabilities.

She has a short temper when faced with disrespect, careless behaviour, and a lack of accountability, which often causes her to react impulsively and say things she usually later regrets. However, there are also times when she chooses to ignore such behaviour and remain silent. She has a strong desire to fight against evil, showing no fear in standing up for what's right and confronting injustices. She’s disgusted by sexual violence, racism, sexism, perverted behaviours, the slaughter of innocent people, and the exploitation and manipulation of vulnerable individuals. Tyra takes immense pride in her fearlessness and has a strong aversion to cowardice, seeing it as a failure to stand up for oneself and others. When she does feel afraid and retreats from a fight or situation due to feeling overwhelmed, she's consumed by shame and regret. In these moments, she doubts whether she's truly as brave as she and others perceive her to be.

She has a profound love for plushies, especially animal and monster designs, which offer her genuine comfort. Gloucester and Cecropia are her most cherished plushies, serving as a source of emotional support during her darkest moments and a reminder of home. Tyra has uncanny expertise with various weaponry, which she's reluctant to acknowledge, and a habit of stalking her prey like a cold-hearted assassin. She's a sassy, hard-working, nature-loving, and introverted leader who believes in environmental stewardship and exhibits a merciless and belligerent demeanour towards her adversaries. She's known to mark her face, neck, and arms with the blood of her defeated foes and to rip off the flesh of their abdomen before spitting it out, as a way to assert her dominance and feel empowered.

She lives with PTSD, mild generalised anxiety disorder, and major depressive disorder. Although she has binge-eating disorder, she has made significant progress in developing a healthier relationship with food. She has been working on eating until she feels satisfied, stopping when full, and not letting setbacks discourage her. However, she still struggles with feelings of guilt after overeating and tends to severely restrict her food intake per day. She struggles with suicidal ideation, severe trust issues, and overwhelming guilt related to her abandoning her children, killing her youngest child, and not supporting the local town children in their fight against the Ptolemaic Army. She hates being victim-blamed for situations that were beyond her control and couldn't have been predicted, and feeling like she can't defend herself. She also hates being objectified and treated as a sex object, which makes her feel dirty, used, and stripped of her humanity.

She's a good friend of Trevor and Nadia, secretly admiring the latter, and the three of them often go shopping, eat out, and spend time at the beach together after a long mission. She often smokes a joint with Trevor and Marco, engaging in random conversations that come to mind and intently listening to the two discuss computers and technological software. She often clashes with Tarma due to his relaxed demeanour and sarcastic comments, as she believes he's not suited for military service, feeling that he doesn't take anything seriously. She views Guilherme as a father figure, finding his presence comforting and serene. She cherishes every moment they spend together and hopes that he'll have the opportunity to live a happier life after leaving the Rebel Army. Despite being part of the Regular Army, where many hold disdain for the Rebel Army, Guilherme's kindness and distrust of his own army have shown her that not every Rebel soldier is irredeemable and fiercely loyal to Morden's cause.

She's a close friend of Dilovar and finds him to be hilarious and bewildering, but also uncomfortably weird at times. She admires his independence, courage, and outgoing nature, and appreciates the gentle and respectful way he treats her. She's surprised by his affectionate nature towards her, but welcomes it because she values feeling loved and cherished by those close to her. However, she finds his secretive nature, overly optimistic attitude, abnormal killer instincts, and uncanny ability to connect with the South Pacific natives to be suspicious, but she can't quite put her finger on why.

Initially, she saw Walter as an aggressive, arrogant jerk who liked to one-up people and stir up trouble. However, she did appreciate his kindness towards women and his willingness to stand up for what's right, never backing down in fear. Despite her reservations, she admits that competing with him to see who had superior fighting and survival skills during their cadet years was actually enjoyable. As they opened up and formed a platonic bond that blossomed into romance, she developed deep feelings for Walter, cherishing every moment with him, willing to support him unconditionally, and playfully reciprocating his flirtations.

She adores how affectionate he is with her and delights in being showered with praise, compliments about her appearance, hugs, and sloppy kisses, which she always reciprocates. However, she finds his overprotectiveness and occasional denseness to be frustrating at times. She sometimes gets into heated arguments with him over his thoughtless actions and angrily reprimands him. However, she always apologises afterwards, especially if she realises she has unintentionally hurt his feelings.

She rejects the idea of absolute truths in ethics and moral norms, believing that values differ from person to person. This subjective nature of morality often leads to internal and external conflicts such as existential crises and heated debates. Nevertheless, she thinks people have the capacity to make rational moral decisions, which should be respected to promote human freedom, unless they cause harm. She believes that war is a means for nations to shape a desirable future, but this comes at the cost of enslaving people to support war efforts and disregarding the well-being and basic needs of civilians and soldiers. In addition, she doesn't believe in a cyclical life, thinking that it's only a linear progression from birth to death. She believes the deities are too cruel to allow reincarnation for all, and only grant it to those they consider to be their favourites.

Backstory: Tyra Rhoxane Elson was born on November 11, 2010 in Alaska, United States. She lived in a rural village nestled in a remote north-east mountain recess with her parents, three older sisters (Nichelle, Shanae, and Kaliyah), two older brothers (Jalen and Kyrie), and grandfather. The village was surrounded by ample farmland for crops and livestock, a dense boreal forest, and a freshwater stream. The community was tight-knit, emphasising mutual support, conflict resolution, collaborative parenting, and environmental sustainability. Her family owned a field of summer squash and artichokes, a chicken coop, and a barn filled with cattle and pigs.

Her father, an Afro-Caribbean pirate turned farmer, abandoned his seafaring life to devote himself to his family and the land. Her mother, a white American huntress, helped build homes for the village. Her maternal grandfather, a retired livestock veterinarian, was a respected elder in the community. Tyra and her siblings helped on the farm and received their education from the village elders. Her father would share with Tyra and her siblings tales of his adventures at sea, recounting challenges like food scarcity and his personal struggles with an addiction to psychoactive substances.

She would often let Jalen adorn her hair with flowers he found in the dense forest. During the summer, she would sometimes have picnics with friends and family after a long day of work. She had many friends in the village and would often play games, make flower crowns, and explore the dense forest together. Despite her love for exploration, she was often afraid to venture into the dense forest, fearing she would get lost and separated from her family. However, her friends would playfully tease her for being a coward and encourage her to be brave. Their support and well-meaning teasing helped alleviate her fears, but occasional anxiety about getting lost still lingered.

On her 6th birthday, Kyrie gifted her Gloucester, a present that reflected her love of cows. By the time she was 9, Shanae gifted her Cecropia, and her parents allowed her to experiment with makeup after she expressed interest in it. When she turned 13, her mother gave Tyra a Buck 110 Folding Hunter Knife that had belonged to her great-great-grandfather, a renowned hunter and mountaineer in Alaska.

A month before her 13th birthday, disaster struck her village. A splinter cell of Ptolemaic guerrillas and special forces operatives, led by an unknown commander and a contingent of masked cultists, launched a surprise ambush on her village. Driven by desperation, they sought any available supplies and sacrifices for Ptolemaios' cult, hoping the Avatar of Evil would kindly overlook their shortcomings stemming from the Arms Deal Barrage. The guerrillas and special forces operatives slaughtered everyone, destroyed homes, and pillaged various supplies, including medicine, food, blankets, and toiletries. Her parents and grandfather did their best to ensure that Tyra and her siblings could escape safely, but it was too late. Ptolemaic soldiers ransacked and incinerated their house, mercilessly killing half of her family.

Tyra, Jalen, Nichelle, Kaliyah, and their friends were the only children in the village who survived the attack, escaping into the dense forest. They vowed to avenge their families and village, which had been destroyed by the Ptolemaic Army. Led by Nichelle, the group of children launched a bold attack on the Ptolemaics. However, they were vastly outnumbered and outmatched, and were ultimately captured and executed by the special forces operatives for their defiance. Their bodies were then desecrated by masked cultists, who harvested their organs for a ritual dedicated to the Avatar of Evil. Tyra was the only child to survive, having initially hesitated to join the fight. She stayed behind, clinging to Gloucester and Cecropia, and gripping her mother's Buck 110 Folding Hunter Knife tightly. After half an hour, her concern grew, and she decided to investigate the village, wondering what was taking the other children so long.

This proved to be her biggest mistake, as a group of ruthless guerrilla fighters caught her near the execution site of the children. They taunted and mocked her, cruelly rejoicing in her loss. They heartlessly told her that her family and friends had been disobedient and were chosen to be sacrificed to the Avatar of Evil. They called her a coward for not fighting back and made lewd remarks about her body, while inappropriately touching her. They even went so far as to confiscate her knife and two plushies, ripping out Gloucester's left eye and slashing Cecropia's face right in front of her. Instead of killing her, they decided to keep her alive for the purposes of breeding more soldiers and satisfying their own twisted desires. They tied her up with rope, threw her in the back of their armored jeep, and drove back to a Ptolemaic Army base in the forested mountainside, set many miles away from her village. Due to this incident, Tyra felt immense shame over what she perceived as cowardice and swore to never fear for her own life again.

For the next 3 years and 10 months, the Ptolemaics forced her to bear children and raise them, threatening brutal torture if she mistreated them. During this time, she gave birth to eight children: five boys and three girls. Her children included a set of twins (one boy and one girl) and a set of fraternal triplets. They exercised strict control over her actions, watching her closely to prevent escape, sudden attacks or defiance of orders. Whenever she stepped out of line, she was subjected to brutal whippings, knife cuts, degrading verbal abuse, and inhumane acts such as being urinated on and used as a human ashtray. As a result of the mistreatment and strict control she endured, she developed generalised anxiety disorder and suffered from traumatic flashbacks and depressive episodes. To cope, she would attempt to suppress her emotions through self-harm or immerse herself in parenting and binge-eating habits. Her hatred for the Ptolemaic Army intensified into a strong desire to combat evil and seek vengeance against those who had wronged her.

Near the end of her second year at the forested mountainside Ptolemaic Army base, the unknown commander decided to train her as a guerrilla fighter, seeing her as a potential asset in bolstering Colonel Hilde Garn’s infantry and achieving Ptolemaios' goals. They put her through rigorous training in guerrilla warfare, teaching her how to handle various weaponry, ranging from blades to heavy-duty guns. After completing her training, she was not permitted to undergo the same initiation ritual as Eri because she was still regarded as a sex slave. However, she was allowed to fight alongside the guerrilla fighters when necessary, although she was prohibited from doing so during the four months preceding her due date and for the first year after giving birth. She participated in raids on several villages and towns across Alaska, seizing supplies and helping to capture and violently execute fleeing villagers and townsfolk of all ages. The guerrilla fighters and special forces operatives kidnapped many surviving teenage girls, forcing them into the same position as Tyra.

A month after giving birth to her youngest child, the Regular Army launched a counteroffensive against the Ptolemaic Army's control over Alaska. During a raid on a base miles away from Tyra's wartorn village, a group of peacekeeping troops found her being brutally assaulted by the unknown commander. This violent attack occurred after she had strangled her infant child and attempted to escape with the personal items that had been confiscated from her. They neutralised the commander and took Tyra into their care after learning she had nowhere else to turn because the Ptolemaic Army had taken everything from her. However, Tyra kept secret the fact that she had other children, ashamed to acknowledge the children of her rapists as her own. Ultimately, the Regular Army succeeded in forcing the Ptolemaic Army to retreat from Alaska and saved all of the kidnapped teenage girls, bringing Tyra immense joy and relief.

She would be placed in the Regular Army's orphan program, which provided comprehensive support, including therapy, food, safe shelter in Ajirabia, and formal education. The program encouraged Tyra to explore new interests and passions, such as hairstyling and breakdancing. She was also given the freedom to discover the outside world through field trips with her peers in the orphan program. Feeling incredibly lonely, she decided to adopt a dog and chose a brown English bulldog, captivated by the puppy's red eyes. She named the dog Angelica, after a friend who tragically fell victim to the Ptolemaic Army. Since then, Tyra has treasured Angelica's companionship and discovered a newfound love for dogs. After discovering her forced involvement in the Ptolemaic Army raids of Alaska and her expertise in various weaponry through her therapy reports, the program offered Tyra a chance to join the Peregrine Falcons Squad. Seeing this as an opportunity to fulfill her dream of fighting against evil, she accepted the offer and joined the P.F. Squad at the age of 19.

After achieving the highest grade on the written tests given to new cadets, she enthusiastically participated in all the rigorous training courses available. She was placed in the "misfit batch" due to her weapon expertise, and she struggled to trust her fellow cadets, often treating them with aloof disdain. Dilovar was the first person she befriended, drawn to his genuine tenderness, quirky sense of humour, respect for her personal boundaries, and unwavering support for her hobbies and interests. She struggled to trust Walter at first, viewing him as an arrogant and aggressive guy with an overwhelming need to one-up everyone else. However, she was willing to engage in their rivalry, seeing it as an opportunity to prove her bravery and showcase her skills as a capable fighter. She eventually grew to like and trust Walter as a comrade and friend, especially when she realised he wasn't a terrible person and he genuinely admired her fearlessness, aspiring to match it.

Alongside Dilovar and Walter, she trained in melee combat under Ralf's instruction. She was both amazed and slightly intimidated by Dilovar's feral persona and Walter's imperfect clone abilities. Despite this, she thoroughly enjoyed the training course, which significantly enhanced her fighting capabilities, particularly in close-quarters combat. She even praised Ralf as a skilled teacher, wishing he had been her original drill instructor because she didn't trust the ones she initially had.

She didn’t hesitate to participate in the final training program, eager to put the foraging and survival skills she learned from her village elders to use. She was eager to utilise her five senses at her keen disposal while prudently passing on. Upon arriving on the South Pacific archipelago with her fellow cadets, she found it odd that no intel had been provided about the island's flora, fauna, and geography. However, her excitement to start the last step towards graduation overshadowed her concerns, and she teamed up with Walter and his friends. Once they found a nearby freshwater stream, she taught them how to construct makeshift shelters and build a campfire, skills she had picked up during her days as a guerrilla.

During a solo hunting expedition, she spotted campfire smoke from a distance and suspected it might be other P.F. Squad cadets. However, upon investigating the campsite, she quickly realised it belonged to cadets from the Rebel Army, a group she had learned about prior to her final training. Desperate to escape, she managed to kill a few of them but was swiftly shot down, dragged back to their camp, and tied to a tree. Tyra soon discovered that the Rebel Army cadets' experience and equipment far surpassed hers and her fellow cadets. The Rebel Army cadets psychologically tortured her throughout the afternoon and early evening, hoping to break her spirit and extract information about her fellow cadets' locations. However, she remained stoic, refusing to show weakness, and began to mercilessly insult them out of spite. Just as the Rebel Army cadets attempted to escalate their abuse, Walter arrived just in time to free her and aid her in defeating the Rebel Army cadets.

Realising that she and Walter were unable to fight the Rebel Army alone due to their limited equipment and weaponry, Tyra agreed to search for a radio tower while he held off the enemy. During her journey, she fought off Rebel Infantrymen and freed a small group of cadets, who aided in finding the radio tower, and Intelligence Agency hostages, who provided her with rations and weapons. While relieving herself, a group of fanatic land troops ambushed and sexually assaulted her. Luckily, Guilherme intervened, scaring them away by sniping a few down and warning them that he would report this incident to their superiors. The encounter triggered memories of her past trauma at the hands of the Ptolemaic Army, leaving her on the verge of a mental breakdown. However, Guilherme's comfort and support helped her cope, and his compassion and kindness gave her the strength to persevere. After talking with him for 30 minutes, Tyra began to regard him as a father figure before they departed to resume their duties.

With the help of a few cadets, she located Rumi, who had gathered crucial intel on Rebel Army positions but got lost in the jungle. After being briefed on the situation, Rumi led her to the radio tower, and they contacted the Joint Military Operations Headquarters for backup. They received word that Division 6 would arrive at the beach as soon as possible. She, Rumi, and the rescued cadets met up with Division 6 at the beach. Together, they devised a plan to approach the Rebel Army, utilizing Rumi's intel and rumors of unethical experiments on the island, which a few cadets had overheard from Rebel soldiers. The team then searched for Walter and found him hiding in a cave hideout, eating a couple of bananas he foraged during his time in the jungle. They discovered that he rescued a couple of hostages and repurposed the corpses of Rebel soldiers as potential decoys.

After the battle against The Keesi III, Logan ambushed Tyra's comrades and kidnapped her, bringing her to a vast dungeon used by the Rebel Army and the P’isqu Runakuna (“bird people” in Quechua). Tyra was merely a pawn to buy time for the activation and preparation of the Cabracan. She suffered brutal treatment, including being stabbed in her right eye. Logan attempted to further demoralise her through physical assault and interrogation, seeking information about Regular Army cadet training and other sensitive details she might be aware of. However, she remained defiant, refusing to speak and dismissing his questions with crude insults and sarcasm. Fortunately, after Logan departed to rejoin the battle, Rumi and Allen Jr. discovered Tyra's location and rescued her from captivity.

After destroying the Cabracan, the base initiated its self-destruct sequence. Although everyone managed to escape, Tyra became trapped under debris, which crushed her left leg and severely burned her lower half. Fortunately, Walter, Dilovar, Allen Jr., and Nayutaro came to her aid, and Rumi provided medical attention. Following the Survival Island Occupation, Tyra graduated with top honours alongside Walter and Dilovar. After undergoing a left leg amputation and receiving a cybernetic prosthetic from Tarma, she joined Division 6, having accepted Hyakutaro's invitation, and rose to the rank of Warrant Officer. At the Joint Military Operations Headquarters' medical facility, she met Nadia, and was impressed by her ability to treat cadets who were transformed into mantis and simian monsters. This sparked her admiration for Nadia's bubbly personality and willingness to tackle complex, science-related problems.

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thegirlcomfort · 3 months ago

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I want to introduce to my male OC

faceclaim: Rudy Pankow

Basic Info

Full Name: Alex Matteo

Nickname: Alex

Age: 23 years old

Date of Birth: July 15, 2000

Place of Birth: Los Angeles, California, USA

Gender/Pronouns: Male (he/him)

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Relationship: Single

Species: Human

Ethnicity: American-Italian

Blood Type: O positive

Likes:

Music (playing guitar, going to concerts)

Movies and TV shows

Sports (basketball, soccer)

Traveling

Spending time with friends and family

Dislikes:

Injustice

Arrogant people

Crowded places

Standing still

Routine

General Appearance:

Light blonde brown hair

Blue eyes Average height (1.75 m)

Body Athletic

Casual and laid-back style

General Personality:

Extroverted and sociable

Funny and playful

Loyal and protective

Determined and ambitious

A little impulsive

Hobbies:

Playing guitar

Watching movies and series

Playing sports

Traveling

Reading

Occupation: Film student (aims to become a director)

Strengths:

Creative and imaginative

Communicative and persuasive

Born leader

Determined and persistent

Good at solving problems

Weaknesses:

Impulsive and impatient

Stubborn and proud

Sometimes gets carried away by emotions

Can be a little self-centered

Lack of experience

Physical Traits + Appearance

Alive/Dead: Alive

Height: 1.80 m

Weight: 80 kg

Hair Color: Light Blonde Brown

Hairstyle: Short and messy, with some strands falling over the forehead

Eye Color: Blue

Body Type: Athletic and muscular, with broad shoulders and a slim waist

Other Physical Characteristics:

Wolf tattoo on the right arm

Scar on the left side of the face, the result of a motorcycle accident

Wears tactical and functional clothing, such as cargo pants, a t-shirt, bulletproof vest and military boots

Backstory

Childhood and Adolescence:

Alex Matteo was born and raised in Los Angeles, California. He is the son of Italian immigrant parents who worked hard to provide him with a good life.

Alex was always an active and adventurous boy. He loved sports, especially basketball and soccer. He was also a brilliant student and had a special interest in history and literature.

During his teenage years, Alex got into some trouble. He was a bit rebellious and would often get into fights. However, he also had a good heart and was always willing to help others.

Enlistment in the Army:

After graduating from high school, Alex decided to enlist in the army. He wanted to serve his country and make a difference in the world.

Alex underwent rigorous training and became an elite soldier. He was known for his courage, determination, and leadership skills.

Alex served in several missions around the world, including Iraq and Afghanistan. He saw the horrors of war firsthand and it changed him forever.

Return to Civilian Life:

After several years of serving in the military, Alex decided to return to civilian life. He enrolled in college and began studying film.

Alex was still traumatized by his experiences in the war, but he was determined to move forward with his life. He joined a support group for veterans and began therapy.

Alex met Sam, an army medic, and fell in love with her. Sam helped him overcome his trauma and find a new purpose in life.

Return to the Army:

When a new threat emerged, Alex decided to return to the military. He knew his skills and experience were needed to protect his country.

Alex joined a special operations unit and was sent on a dangerous mission. He and his team had to infiltrate enemy territory and eliminate a terrorist leader.

The mission was a success, but Alex was seriously injured. He spent months recovering in the hospital, but eventually made a full recovery.

Present:

Alex continues to serve in the military and is determined to make a difference in the world. He knows that war is a necessary evil, but he hopes that one day the world can live in peace.

Alex is a decorated war hero and a respected leader. He is a role model for all who know him.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #call of duty oc #oc: alex matteo #faceclaim: rudy pankow

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averysexyleon · 2 years ago

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Forty Nine

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

This is the work of the Black God.

It is the work of a desperate man, nothing more. No gods required.

Nonetheless, his powers will have to be taken before he is imprisoned. With the aid of that entity there is no telling how easily he might escape.

We are in agreement. Bring forth the King.

—----

Ethan awoke with a start; his journal was in his hands; he’d fallen asleep on the parlor sofa. What were those voices? He realized they’d been speaking the medieval dialect of Romanian. Godric’s dialect. The blond sat up, rubbing his eyes, and was slightly startled as the front door opened. Karl entered, bringing in an armful of firewood, and crouched by the large, empty fireplace.

“What are you doing?”

“Just finished puttin’ everybody to bed,” the other said in an amused voice, “Figured if you’re gonna banish yourself out here, you might want a fire.”

Ethan sat up slowly, wondering what time it was. He’d come to the parlor after dinner; it had been early. He closed the journal and rubbed his eyes again. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to hide away, I can take you,” Karl chided; he looked underdressed, wearing only cargo pants, his boots, and his long-sleeved shirt. Without his coat, hat and glasses, he looked so young and handsome. His thick frame was silhouetted against the created beginnings of a small fire, his masculine profile was full-lips, nose, brow. When he pivoted and smirked at Ethan, the blond blushed. He instantly wondered how to tell Karl to ditch wearing anything that hid his face and body, forever.

“Do you want to…stay in here for a while? I can get us drinks.”

“Sure, Buttercup.”

As the fire grew, Ethan returned to the parlor with one glass of wine, one whiskey. Karl was sitting on the sofa as he had the night that Ethan told him about Godric. He’d been in a similar cheeky mood then.

See anything you like, Buttercup?

Even further back, Ethan remembered sitting on the ottoman while Maricara inspected his face, his hand, musing about his existence.

Walking in the darkness, with no notion who he is! But how can it be healed?

His haltingly amiable words to Karl. What color were your eyes, before….?

Green.

Ethan sat next to the older man, not asking if he could cuddle; Heisenberg’s arm was already draped over an empty spot that seemed made for him. Yellow eyes lit up with a smirk at Ethan’s serious expression. The scowl brightened into a boyish smile when he met the other’s eyes. For a moment they looked at each other, neither speaking.

Ethan handed over the whiskey.

“I’m not the wife,” he began, and Karl chuckled almost too readily, as though he knew it would come up sooner or later. “You’re the wife.”

“No way.” Karl’s accent was never misplaced, somehow.

“I was meaning to tell you, Miranda was trying to get into my head,” Ethan was smiling behind the wine glass, “Looking for where Colm’s body is-I have no idea why-and I didn’t want her to know, so I started thinking about you. She got to see your ass.”

Heisenberg made an overwhelmingly disgusted face, while Ethan laughed. This caused Heisenberg to laugh, then drink deeply from the glass of whiskey, and he placed it on the table with a final cringe. “So she’s back to that shit…I knew it was gonna happen, she just needed time to get her power back, I guess.”

“Is that something she was able to do?”

Karl’s expression by firelight had never looked more serious, more hurt. “Not with any accuracy, with the people who got cadou. Which was lucky for me…but I still trained myself to think of anything but her while I was around her. Others, sometimes…. It was torture for ‘em. Put a few people out of misery after she got in their heads an’ they were punished for whatever it was she thought they knew…or believed. When Donna figured out how to use her…” he gestured, “Miranda had her start doin’ that dirty work. Messin’ with heads. Takin’ things out. Puttin’ things in that don’t go.” Karl’s eyebrows raised. “That’s…about when Donner’n’I stopped….when I-I…c-c…”

Even his voice was haunted. He bit his lip, willing his stutter to quiet, as Ethan stared into the fire alongside him. Karl sipped again, this time stroking his fingers along Ethan’s bicep. Ethan spoke, willing to give Heisenberg a break after that intense confession.

“I…I guess, read? Chris today, by accident. I don’t know how that’s possible, I thought it was only a thing that happened here, or with people who were infected.”

Karl’s expression moved to a sly one, and Ethan turned to him. “Did you know he…had feelings for me?”

“Ethan, I don’t know how a guy is a computer genius, a complete badass with a shotgun, and a total idiot all at the same time, but you are one of the most obtuse son-of-a-bitches I’ve ever met.” He laughed at the scowl now on Ethan’s face. “Of course I know. How did you NOT know?”

“Does it…bother you?” Ethan knew his own jealous streak had shown up several times, but he assumed Heisenberg’s hatred of Chris was over the factory incident, not his feelings toward Ethan. He’d never acted concerned about it.

“Nah. I agree with him, why would it bother me?” Heisenberg managed more whiskey. Ethan considered this, and finally smiled at what he realized must be a compliment.

After a comfortable pause, Heisenberg turned the empty glass in his hand, staring at the crystal patterns. “Do whatever you have to, to not let her see what she wants to see. I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about with the grave-don’t tell me, I don’t need to know-nothin’ good can come of her wanting information, and then gettin’ it.”

Ethan realized something in that moment, and he turned to Karl, wide-eyed. “Is that why you won’t talk about–!” The crystal fragment.

Karl’s expression told him he was correct. Ethan’s face fell. “Wait, was it…Miranda trying to get that information from you? Did she…possess me?”

Karl had apparently already considered this. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think that was all you, wantin’ to know. An’ Ethan. I don’t want to talk about it because…”

They were about to delve into a new era of their relationship, a deeper layer, Ethan realized. Karl had been nothing but honest with him since he’d met him, but there was still this one wedge between them. The single thing he didn’t speak about, and Ethan was finally going to know why. It would mean many things, maybe, but it would bring them closer in a way that Heisenberg was afraid of. It was the final secret, wasn’t it?

He should have felt excited; he felt sick.

“Not only does talkin’ about it uh…invite those thoughts…because it does. But. Eva and I have known for years now that the thing has to be destroyed. This is somethin’ in the making for a long time.”

The Duke had said that, hadn’t he?

“Always thought I’d have to kill…them.” He was talking about his siblings. “They might still end up dead-None of us know the full extent of what the shit does. Miranda probably doesn’t even know, she just guesses. We don’t know if it’ll kill me. I planned for it just in case. Made peace with it.”

“But you still have your cadou–?”

“Right. That cadou was a lot stronger before. The crystal was like a built in turbocharger. I could do a lot more with it. With it not powerin’ the cadou,” Heisenberg chose his words carefully, “I don’t have the same power. I used it when you and I fought. I won’t do that again, I want the damn thing gone, I want her gone. I’m happy to fight her however I can, and probably will, til the end. But the crystal has to go before that, an’ when that happens, there’s a chance I might go with it.”

Ethan was silent. His blood felt like ice. His head felt full of cotton. He blinked at the fire. So this was the conversation. They’d gone from a tense dance of words around coffee in the dining room, to this.

This was what it was like to not be in denial. Neither he, nor the other person, was trying to change the conversation into something hopeful, or protect feelings. Nobody walked off in the middle of the discussion. There was a completed delivery of potentially devastating news, and a quiet acceptance.

A billion ‘what if’s and ‘but’s boiled beneath the surface. And yet Ethan knew that for as much as he knew about the mold, Heisenberg and Eva both had years, decades….in Eva’s case, a century, on his information. They had accepted it as a possibility. He now had to accept it as a possibility.

Was more black fluid coming from his eyes? The tunnel vision felt like it was coming back. He dragged his fingers across his face and looked; no, it was tears. He was hyperventilating. He laughed at his own stupidity and then drank more wine. Karl was looking at him, but he couldn’t look back.

“Talk to me, Ethan.”

The scowl was aimed at the fire. His voice sounded like a child’s.

“I don’t want you to die.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“What’ll I do if you do?” He finally turned, really crying now, to see the still-contemplative look on the other’s face. He put a hand over his mouth to stop the stream of begging, pleading that threatened to come out. In a gesture of unusual tenderness, Karl threaded his hand through Ethan’s blond hair, almost petting him.

“It’ll be okay, Papa. Remember what I told you? We’re all just energy. I’ll always be around in some way.”

Ethan still had his hand over his mouth, and now he leaned down into Karl’s chest, thinking of many different things. His own father’s disappearance, Mia’s deaths, his deaths, Godric’s imprisonment, the crystallized man in the tomb. Alcina’s devastation over losing barely-human daughters. Eva’s great yearning to be human and how she seemed to spend every moment of her human life grateful for existence, drinking it like nectar.

Life seemed very fragile and unfair and he could only cry about it. Karl’s arm draped over him, pulling him in closer.

Maybe it would be okay, but maybe it wouldn’t.

For the second time that night, he didn’t remember falling asleep. Though Karl had no fear about a potentially dangerous Ethan, he respected the blond’s wishes to be alone, and after tucking him in, Karl left the room. Ethan slept by the light of the dying embers.

Neither Karl nor Ethan saw the shadow of Jochen, constantly beside him, never truly dead or alive. He sauntered out after his brother, eager to watch the other work.

—------------

Ethan fell in his dream, into a dark spot of a catalogued megamycete. He knew when he sat up that she would be there, looking at him with her pale eyes and confused expression.

“Miranda,” he sighed, closing his eyes. Not really Miranda. A fragment of Miranda. The only decent part she had left, apparently.

“You! I…forget who you are. You learned how to come at will?”

“No, I’m sleeping. Dreaming.”

“I must have been thinking of you.” She giggled; it sounded just like Eva.

Ethan rubbed his face tiredly. She continued, “Still, if you can come here in a dream that would mean, maybe your powers are growing?”

“You…the other you, said something today about almost being out of time,” he said. The train station. Maybe his desire to know had brought him here. “Out of time for what?”

She sat cross-legged. Ethan wondered why this couldn’t have been the Miranda that he encountered; she seemed so docile, charming. Even her thoughtful frown was nearly innocent. Couldn’t they just make a quick trade?

“I can only guess…But I can sense that the core of the Mold, the consciousness, will die soon. She cannot lead from there. The mold is a colony, yes? It must accept a queen. Without a queen, it will fall apart, just memories moving into the earth like raindrops. There has been so much energy used lately.”

Ethan thought of the dragon. Their re-creation of Eveline, who seemed to have far more power than everyone else. Eveline had, after all, created her own fungal root-in Dulvey.

He scratched his head. “Could you do that? Could you be the queen?”

She looked startled. “I…am a discarded piece. A reject. I cannot even remember who I am much anymore. We all go to the voices, and then nothingness, without a complete mind to lead.”

Ethan switched to rubbing his temple.

How could he tell Eva that this was her future? She’d done it, without knowing, for nearly a century anyway. With no guidance, while witnessing the terror her mother inflicted on an entire settlement for multiple generations. He’d just accepted the possibility of Heisenberg’s death earlier in the evening, and now he was going to have to accept that Eva might also have to leave him forever? And if she didn’t….

He was crying again. Miranda-fragment put her hand on his knee; she felt less than solid, like a soft breeze. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know what to do,” he confessed, laughing while crying.

“The Black God has been calling you,” she said, looking at her own hand that had been on his knee, as though she only knew this information after touch. “Maybe it has something to say that will help?”

“What even is the Black God? I’ve heard that since I came here. Isn’t it just the Mold?”

“No,” she tapped a finger on her chin. She was stunning. He hated looking at her and seeing someone so beautiful. “It is….a consciousness that was created from mimicking humans, perhaps. The Mold rarely creates things on its own, it just copies memories. But this one was created long before us all, before this land was settled. It is a trickster. It has helped, but…” she tsked. “It is a fickle one.”

“Miranda embraced the Black God,” Ethan said in a monotone, dragging his hand down his face. “She accepted it, or whatever it was she wrote in her notes.”

“Yes, one like you, a traveler, can do that. It has been done. Our long-ago Kings were instructed to split its consciousness between all four of them. First to win our land. And then to rule it. But it was banished after it kept…well…eating outsiders. The Kings became cannibals when they embraced the Black God for too long. It is a powerful friend, but has no human mind.”

He remembered what Godric had said, about who the Black God was. We are.

He remembered Miranda eating the bloody heart as she sat on the rock island.

“Where….is it?”

Her expression of curiosity blossomed into one of awe. “You really….it’s…I…hm…don’t know. There’s so much I don’t know.”

“That makes two of us.”

Ethan closed his eyes again.

He sought the fireplace with the burning embers. The sofa. The two empty glasses that sat on the table. When he opened his eyes, he was sitting up on the couch. Karl’s fire crackled gently at him as if to tell him to go back to sleep. But, Ethan stared out the window. A restlessness overtook him. He recalled the storm Heisenberg had created to correct the hysteresis of the consciousness.

They had uncovered a small, glowing red bundle of neurons and other cells. It was under the surface, down the cliffside. The caverns hadn’t been made by rock, but by petrified mold. This whole area was ancient fossil, and the mold just kept growing in it year after year, making a cocoon bed out of its own fossils.

Ethan grabbed his phone and scrolled through it, looking for some sort of placation, some communication that would bring him peace, or allow him to ignore his restlessness. He found the opposite.

From Chris.

-Yeah, we all underestimated you. I’m not ashamed to say that, I’m relieved you’re as tough as you are.

-You have no idea how tough I have gotten. At this point I really should be studied.

-Don’t joke about stuff like that, Ethan…some people who get infected really are.

-I know. I just hope it’s enough to finally get rid of her.

-If anybody can do it, it’s you. You’re resilient as hell. And maybe as stubborn as she is.

-I’d say more stubborn, she just has time on me.

-Fair enough. Don’t go doing anything crazy just because I give you my full stamp of approval to be in charge, and told you that I believe in you. I try not to say shit like that even when it’s always been true.

-Since when have I ever been anything but cautious?

-Very funny.

-You should say more ‘shit’ that’s true. I like hearing the truth.

-Don’t push your luck.

Before he knew it, he was standing at the window, staring out across the moonlit field. Ethan’s gaze was on the part of the field he couldn’t see from here; the house was on a high hill. But he knew, remembered very well, where IT was. The fungal root had re-colonized far away from the ceremony site, and almost seemed to hug the caverns underneath the cliffs of this home, as if it were the only un-contaminated ground left. Shrinking away from the area of the blast radius.

Ethan didn’t even put on shoes; he was out the door in a moment, moving across the dark cliffside trail like a ghost. He followed the path of the funeral procession…it felt like so long ago. The path where Karl had ridden by him on the large black horse. Past the hill where Karl had pulled the mechanical heart out-the first time he’d ever seen the engineer shaken. Where he’d learned who Eva was, saw Eveline reappear in the ‘flesh’ for the first time.

Why are you helping me?

Because I hate Miranda.

The blond peered down the steep cliff sides, where before, Eva had appeared and reappeared, moving along the rocky cliffs when Ethan was Heisenberg’s anchor. Heisenberg had yelled at him, “Why can’t you do THAT?”

He turned behind him to look toward the house; moonlight illuminated the quiet, dark manor. The tall grass, now mostly dead, whispered around him. Like the castle and Donna’s home, the Heisenberg manor was positioned at the far reaches of this mountain valley, as if to pull away from the organism that resided under it. As if their ancestors had wanted to hide in the mountains, away from the center of the root.

His family slept there, and Ethan might have felt guilt over once again venturing off on his own, except that the desperation he felt was louder in his soul than the guilt.

He wasn’t accepting death as he was told to, was he?

Was he doing what Miranda did?

He was supposed to go back to bed, and hope that whatever had gotten into him since stepping into that pool didn’t take over. Hope that he didn’t try to wrestle information out of another member of his family. What if he went after one of the children next?

Being out here, learning what to do-however he was going to do that-was less frightening than going back to bed and pretending that they had time, that there wasn’t a need for him to step into whatever full power he had at arm’s reach. Or, maybe, he was delusional and it was all an excuse and the pool of death had ruined him completely. Ethan’s cheeks were streaked with dried tears.

He didn’t want Karl to die.

He didn’t want Eva to die, either.

He didn’t want to keep locking himself away.

In Chris’s notes he’d read about Miranda’s encounter with the Mold. She had wandered into a cave, touched the root. Her mind was flooded with information. It was a feeling more than a thought, but Ethan’s mind was made up.

As the tall man disappeared from the cliffside, now easily moving from precipice to precipice, jumping the way that Eva had jumped so long ago, those inside the manor began to stir and awaken. Most of the inhabitants didn’t know why, but were roused from their dreams. Some fell back asleep quickly. Others stayed awake, peering at the ceiling or wall, wondering what had awakened them.

Ethan could sense the energy from the fungal root as he moved closer to it. He was only several petrified-mold shelves away from the ground. Karl’s attempts at burning the top layer of mycelium worked well farther out, where the water helped him conduct electricity over wide swaths of land, but here the ground was insulated, protected. And the root’s energy was strong, he realized.

Miranda was close, he could sense her. Ethan moved once more, stepping from the sandy white shelves of petrified rock to the ground. His bare feet touched on dirt threaded with mycelium. It did feel electric; his hairs stood on end, he heard a buzzing in his ears. He stared at the ground, noting the silvery strands that pulsed as if reading him.

The one that healed us.

Whatever voice that was, referred to Karl’s tornado lifting debris and rot away from the core, allowing it to ‘breathe’...to survive.

That was technically Heisenberg, he answered in his mind. No longer had he communicated with the consciousness than she was there, standing ten feet away. His conversation had called her to him like a beacon. Though Miranda smiled-in her sinister way-at him, she looked perplexed, as if she were surprised to see him.

“You’ve made a grave error, doing all of this in an attempt to stop me. So much energy you’ve wasted. I cannot re-enter the Megamycete as its ruler. What will you do instead, who will you sacrifice?”

The taunt hurt, as it would be Eva who suffered. Miranda seemed to catch onto this emotion, and she tilted her head. “Eva..?”

“How can you just pull a crystal out of somebody without killing them?” He asked bluntly. Ethan didn’t want to argue, he just wanted information. If he had to touch the fungal root to get it, so be it. But maybe she was feeling as generous as her clueless, trapped remnant.

She chuckled, not even listening to his inner dialogue.

“Worried about dear Heisenberg, are we?”

His lips moved into a tight line. “Tell me.”

“You mean, like this?” Miranda pulled her golden-clawed fingers away from herself; in a shower of sparks, a glimmer moved into her hand. She held it aloft for a moment, turning it. “Alcina’s. There are many others, lost to time, but the ones I seek, we both know who has them.” She pushed the crystal back into her body, her eyes glowing white as it merged, skin turning white and threading with white veins.

He didn’t speak.

She crossed her arms, happy, it seemed, to know more than Ethan. “Do you remember when the Mold took you, at the ship? Eveline’s root was there. You were absorbed by that Megamycete, Ethan. At an earlier time, so was Mia. When it chose you, and pulled you in, you became something else entirely. Something so much more. So did Mia. Unfortunately, by the time she got to me, her mind was not intact.”

“Fuck you.”

“Is yours?” She grinned. “Do you understand?”

“What the hell does my past have to do with my question?”

She chuckled against a rumble of thunder. “You are more powerful than you know, Ethan. You were a human who became part of a core. The others are not. They never will be. They are simply this organism trying to create its copies, as it always has, its own ecosystem.”

“Who else has been absorbed by a…Megamycete?”

“I was,” she said proudly. “Rose was. As well as someone else you know, but not the ones you look to save.”

He threw his hands out. “I’m done with the fucking riddles. This isn’t a storybook.”

“You could send the Lords to me,” she said abruptly, and he tilted his head. So this was why she’d appeared to him. She had something to say, to bargain. He’d figured. She spoke again, realizing he was listening intently. “I can remove the pieces, and leave them intact.”

“And…if I did…Heisenberg?”

“I will exchange his crystal for the one you currently have. His brother is very useful to me. I have spent a lifetime curating his mind into the obedient son that his twin was not. He knows how to move through strata expertly. He is non-negotiable.”

“Molding his mind, huh. Is that why he got away from you? Why he’s still away from you?”

Her smile faltered, and he lowered his head. The wind was blowing now, icy on his neck. Ethan barely felt it. He had another question.

“You have Heisenberg’s?” That didn’t sound right.

“It is a one time offer, Ethan. I suggest you choose wisely.”

He couldn’t read her, the way she read him, he realized. Dammit. Was she bluffing? It didn’t matter. Ethan knew that if he made some kind of deal with the devil-to Heisenberg, the literal devil-and lost their one chance at getting his brother back, Karl would never forgive him. Besides, if she really did have the crystal, she would have to crush it to destroy whatever part of Karl was inside it, right? Heisenberg was still alive, so either the cadou could exist on its own, or she was lying. Right? Hopefully.

Ethan was desperate to find a loophole or a solution, but not this desperate.

“I always choose wisely,” he said curtly, and stepped closer to her. His intent wasn’t to interact with her, however, and the blond dissipated as his body morphed through the layers of mold, re-emerging moments later in the last place he’d seen the root. A cavern, where grey rock and walls of crystals surrounded the thick, black knot.

He knew, sensed, that she could not follow him here. Godric had put it best.

She is denied.

The Megamycete had changed.

The last time Ethan saw it, the strange growth was the size of a car, resembled a curled fetus, and something similar to a human heart. It had glowed red, brightly, angrily. And it had a heartbeat, a rapid one.

Now the root towered over his head, fifteen, twenty feet high? More importantly, it had changed shape. It no longer looked like a fetus at all. It looked like a human heart, complete with tendrils of mold suspending it in the air like blood vessels leading away from its center. It moved and pumped grotesquely and again Ethan wondered why he had to be made out of something so disgusting. He approached it, surveying further.

This change is your work, Ethan.

The same voice as earlier, the one that spoke about healing. He ignored it, to examine the health of the root.

Some of the walls of the ‘heart’ were graying, hardening. It was struggling, he realized. The center still glowed bright red, still seemed to have plenty of vigor within them, but he was reminded of Heisenberg when he saw the massive amount of energy, and the breaking, failing tendrils around it. He didn’t even need to ask what the problem was this time. The absence of the mother, the mind…the heart? Of the mold.

This is what Miranda had meant. They were running out of time to save the Megamycete. What would happen if they didn’t give it the component it apparently needed? Why couldn’t the damn thing just adapt?

Eveline’s Mold was destroyed, and her consciousness lived on. Lived on in Ethan, he realized abruptly. He carried all of them inside of his mind. Jack and Marguerite as well. The house. The Molded within it. He’d become a holder of a world, without even realizing it. That world was now connected to this one; he’d become a part of this one as well. So had Rosemary.

He would live if this mold died. Rose would live. But everyone else existed only through the conduit of this organism. He didn’t know what would happen. Ethan didn’t want to find out, he realized.

Careful now, he heard a voice mutter in a teasing, tantalizing voice as he approached. Don’t want to touch anything dangerous.

It almost sounded like Godric. This was different from the cacophony of voices indexed by the mold. Was this its creation? The Black God? He could sense a presence here, one that wasn’t invisible voices, or another person.

He spoke aloud. “If I…touch you. Am I going to lose my mind?”

“Human minds are so easy to lose. Like pocket change.”

“If I touch you, will it kill the root? Take more power?”

“Not so much more. I have been waiting for you. Saving energy. Sending you strength.”

He thought of moving the sarcophagus. Pinning Heisenberg.

“Why me?”

“So that we all may survive.”

He thought back to Miranda’s mind. A trickster. A ‘fickle one.’

Ethan’s heart beat so hard in his chest he thought it might burst.

“Shall we, Ethan Winters? Do you want my help?”

Alcina, he thought wildly, I need you here.

Was that even possible? His entire being, this entire chamber, coursed with energy. If it was possible, it would be here. The Black God chuckled, as if he didn’t mind entertaining.

Ethan turned, eyeing the cavern, which had no entrance or exit. The crystals glistened from the red light on the fungal root, and then, startlingly, Dimitrescu shimmered into view. She seemed translucent. She was traveling as he used to travel–in dreams, her physical body likely still sleeping. She wore a black silk nightgown.

“What is this? Am I dreaming?” Alcina hesitantly stepped toward Ethan, eyeing the Megamycete skeptically. “Is that…”

“I need your help,” he began anxiously. Her utterly bewildered look was almost humorous.

“Surely you are not going to touch that thing.”

“It’s…whatever’s inside…it’s offering to help us.”

“And you trust…THAT?”

“It won’t let Miranda anywhere near it,” he said quickly. “The whole reason it looks like that on the edges is because it…kicked Miranda out, I guess, after the ceremony with Rose. It also has…all the voices.”

She looked back at the root again with an expression of wonder, laced with her usual disgust. When she didn’t speak, he pressured her, “Weren’t you the one who said if I could fully transform, it could be used against Miranda?”

She arched a brow. “Well, yes, I suppose.”

“You were in control of yours. How did you do it? Please. If you think I can’t do this, be honest with me, I need it right now, I need somebody to tell me the truth. I trust you to do that.”

Alcina was completely taken aback at this, but recovered quickly. She blinked rapidly, and crossed her arms, pacing and staring at the crystals that surrounded her.,

“I…was not in control at first. I suppose I am very headstrong. I was not frightened, I was angry that my body had done something so unacceptable, without my permission. I thought of my daughters, in the end. Every time I transformed, they entered my mind, instead of fear. Had I not had this stubbornness, lack of fear- no doubt I would have been as Moreau. Emotions ruled him, and ruled what his body did. Miranda asked many questions of me after I showed her what I could do. All of her questions related to my emotions, my thoughts, state of mind. They seem paramount to a successful transformation. To keep control of yourself.”

Ethan followed her pacing, watching her phase in and out of view with each pulse of the ‘heart.’

“As to your second point…” she stopped, dropped her hands, and turned her head to meet his eyes. “You, Ethan….” Her smile was soft, barely perceptible. “You will be fine. You made your way into a lost place with no exit, and fought with every fiber of your being, well past barriers anyone else could have. I have no doubt that you can control whatever this thing will turn you into. However, what then?” She eyed the root with suspicion. “After Miranda is gone, will it quietly remove itself from you? Will you slowly go mad, as in the old stories? Look at…well.” She huffed, batting her eyelashes. “Look at what happened to her.”

“Yeah,” he countered. “I guess I figured I’d cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“Such a man,” she muttered, but didn’t move. Her eyes were on Ethan as he wiped his palms on his pants, and then stepped forward.

“I hope I won’t regret this,” he muttered, hearing the laugh from the entity he now knew was the Black God. As Ethan lifted his right hand, he hovered it for a moment. “Did you know Godric?”

“The warrior King, I so loved him. So many good battles together. Then one day….ritually ripped apart from each other. I would have broken him out of there, somehow…..and they knew it.”

This was enough to satisfy Ethan. If it was good enough for Godric, it was good enough for him. It was this, or go lay back down and try not to wake up black-eyed and insane, with no memory of it.

He touched one of the black spots on the bottom end of the ‘heart.’ Instantly, his vision went black. Alcina’s consciousness disappeared from the cavern, her worried look unseen by Ethan as he wrestled with the pain, unfamiliarity, of thousands of voices surging through his entire being, as if he were electrical conduit. One of the voices-presences-was louder, stronger, snaking its way deep into his chest.

When he burst upward through stone and dirt, it wasn’t like his previous travels. Turning into air, as Eva had once called it. Ethan quite violently erupted from the ground, the crystals and mycelium both bending out of his way when he moved, his force enough to burst through soil on its own. He struggled to stay conscious, shaking dirt from his hair-he felt suddenly exhausted, as if he should sleep, but he ground his teeth instead. Unsteadily he stumbled, and then fell onto one knee.

The blond watched his hands elongate as he held them up; his heart raced even more. His body felt warm, for the first time since he could remember. So warm he wanted to pull his skin off. He was burning alive. This was the metabolism of the mold, he knew. He didn’t know how he knew. Ethan held his head in his hands, grunting against a sudden crushing headache. He heard the voice inside.

Sleep. Rest.

I can do it.

“No,” he argued, feeling his very calcified-white skin growing strange, crystal patterns around his limbs. It needed more arms, more legs. Too small. Maybe more eyes? Ethan fought against this too. “NO, NONE OF THAT.”

He dragged what he could of his long, clawed hands across his face. Black fluid trickled out from his eyes, and his cheek felt like stone-cracked marble. Smooth, with deep fissures. Though he couldn’t see it, his skin had lost all color and now resembled something like the moonlight that streamed down over him. Shadow and blue-white light mixing as this…guest? Intruder?

Part of him

–NO.

Changed him.

It seemed the Black God conformed at least partly to its host; Ethan did not turn into an entirely new creature. His body grew in height, elongated, and he felt the burn on his back where his skin crackled–Tendrils? Fibers? ……Wings? In horror he realized that they could climb, bony structures that protruded from his back, holding wispy black tatters with hooked ends. They reminded him of Miranda’s mutated form’s wings-those had looked downy.

It wanted to get up, away.

NO.

Ethan dragged his hands-claws, blackened, with dripping ichor hitting the ground as it flowed from his fingertips-into the dirt, pressing his bare feet there too. He felt his toes flex, and realized they were long and clawlike as well. It was now a tug-of-war with his body, with him holding on, clenching teeth to the ground, and the thing inside him wrestling up, seeking the sky.

The same obsidian that moved down to cover Miranda’s eyes was creeping toward his own, but his stubbornness seemed to give it pause. The shining mycelium strands, black veins underneath, pooled across his forehead, under his chin, but his eyes remained uncovered. The blackened pools crystallized, blackened like a crown over his brow. They had relented; he could see.

His vision blurred, reddened. He recalled the crimson light from below, the energy of the Megamycete. Ethan’s sclerae became red, his pupils golden. Suddenly his teeth ached. His entire face ached. When he stretched his mouth in a strangled cry, he was forced to acknowledge that his entire jaw was larger, his mouth wider somehow. His tongue licked around a row of sharp, elongated teeth.

Teeth for tearing.

Ethan couldn’t argue with that one.

Up.

He didn’t want to go up. Well, he did, but not like this. Not right now. Not until he could get control of this thing.

And then what?

Well, he’d be in control, that’s what.

Was he talking to himself?

Ethan felt something pulling. Tearing. Himself. Oh, no you don’t, he thought wildly. But he watched the ground disappear from view, and then everything disappeared.

On the cliffside, out of his view, Eva, Alcina, Moreau, Donna, and Heisenberg were all running down the trail, approaching the end of the rocks where the bonfire had burned months ago. Karl was in front by a long shot. Behind him Eva yelped, “There!” as they all skidded close to the edge, peering down the long craggy ravine. Right as she pointed, the gaunt, long figure barely recognizable as Ethan exploded, bursting into-

“Kingfishers,” Karl marveled, his eyes luminescent as his head tilted up, following their flight pattern. There were hundreds of the small birds moving in tandem together. The former lords and their sibling watched in awe at the silhouettes against the moon. The brightly colored birds bobbed and weaved in a murmuration reminiscent of Miranda’s crows. The flock hugged the cliff wall, drifted up, trying to fly high, then lowered. The movements were fluid, but jerky, as if a tug-of-war were taking place.

“You can do it, Ethan,” Alcina muttered under her breath, eyes on the flock.

Donna turned to stare at her older sibling. “Do what?!”

The birds all collapsed into one dark cloud, that then morphed in a flurry of wings. When Ethan reappeared, it was on one of the ledges. He held his head in his hands and cursed, but the sound barely carried. It was a growl, inhuman, no vocal chords maneuvering any language.

His body was elongated, different. His forehead, arms, legs dripped with black. He was barely recognizable, but it was him, all right.

Karl didn’t have his hammer, but he raised a hand anyway, summoning any long-lost pieces of metal from the valley below. When Eva motioned to the others, Karl turned back to them. “No, stay here.”

After biting her lip, Eva nodded, and Alcina said haughtily, “You have two minutes.”

Heisenberg scoffed at this, but meandered down his awaiting steps quickly. As he descended, he finally chose to hop over to a higher ledge than Ethan. He stared over the white ‘rock’ at the creature that sat on all fours.

It was tall, lean, dark on the edges-hands, feet-with a pale torso and face. Not so different from Miranda’s transformation, it was a beautifully grotesque thing with long legs and longer arms. But this one looked suited to being on all fours, with its hunched posture and inverted hocks. Karl was reminded of deer legs, due to the thinness and shape.

It heaved, exhaling and sounding like a bull, complete with steam issuing from its nostrils. Karl wanted to cheer Ethan on, tell him not to fight it, give him some other sage wisdom-having transformed once himself as well, but he was rendered speechless, finally.

The thing that was Ethan was rising to stand now, almost fully upright, drawing itself up with closed eyes. It probably took all of Ethan’s concentration to maintain control of this form, and Karl stared, his own glowing eyes still wide. Was Ethan in control?

His clothing was in tatters, he had some kind of appendages protruding from his back. Claws dripped with inky black. When he lifted his head, Karl could see the familiar sight of blond hair. It stood out from the trails of black crystals that crusted around his forehead, leaking fluid under his eyes and down his throat. His mouth was entirely blackened, but they were Ethan’s lips after all. The thing-Ethan- grimaced-the teeth were not Ethan’s. They were fangs.

Karl was only on a shelf several feet higher than the ledge the blond had landed on. Ethan was close, but not within reaching distance. And now that he was pulled up to his full height, Ethan nearly towered over the engineer. He was easily seven feet tall, maybe eight. Heisenberg was still mesmerized into silence when it saw him.

Its eyes opened, and they were no longer blackened. They glowed red, with bright yellow irises. It stilled when it caught his gaze, and the grimace full of fangs fell. Ethan’s uncertain expression peered out past this creature’s.

Heisenberg actually beamed.

He’d know that upset gaze anywhere.

Ethan paused; seeing the other man had been his worst nightmare. He wanted to wrestle through this alone. This thing inside of him seemed to regard the other with nothing more than mere curiosity-do we need to kill? NO- but just as the shock spread across Ethan’s face he realized the nightmare of him becoming Molded had never been a nightmare to Karl.

Karl had, in fact, known what Ethan was made of all along.

It changed nothing for him.

This changed nothing. He’d never seen the engineer so fascinated.

Captivated.

Ethan thought Heisenberg would only be reminded of Miranda in this form, as Ethan was…it filled him with disgust. But as Heisenberg stood on the rock with an overwhelmingly enthralled expression, Ethan’s heart began to still.

Just then Karl whistled sharply, thumb and finger in his mouth. It caused Ethan to frown; his new face contorted in uncomfortable places; his brows drew over golden-red eyes, but the reason for the shrill ‘come here’ whistle became clear when a sleepy-but-excited Evie appeared on the rock next to Karl in her brand new pajamas.

She held a very awake, very squirmy toddler-Rosemary. Evie sat the girl on the rock beside Karl, who picked her up easily. Together the children each held out a hand to Ethan, as if they could pet him, touch him, or coax him to the rock. Heisenberg continued to beam, an awestruck look on his face, his own breath fogging around him in the cold night air.

Ethan dropped down instinctively to all fours, but was still within eye level of the group. Rosemary was babbling dada, apparently recognizing him when he could not even recognize himself. Evie looked impressed, something he never thought he’d see from her. Her smile was wide and genuine.

His eyes darted between them, back up to the engineer, back between them. Part of Ethan screamed in rage that Karl had brought his children down onto a cliffside to gawk at this animal.

But he could formulate thoughts even better with this added consciousness, that only saw things as they were. Had no fear.

They weren’t gawking. And they weren’t just his children, were they? This was what Alcina had spoken about. Family.

He pushed himself upright, standing only on his back legs, leaning his palms against the rock where the trio watched him. It felt less natural than being on all fours, but he was adamant to gain control.

Ethan’s eyes were still wild and reddened, but he dropped his head as if to show submission-in reality, he was exhausted, and didn’t want to fight any longer. He finally closed his eyes.

Don’t let me give up -

Rosemary’s hand on the back of his head burned to the touch, but there was also some sensation of…tearing. Letting go. Sleeping. It radiated from his neck and through his chest. And it wasn’t him.

When Ethan got the strength to climb onto the rock, his eyes flickered open enough to see that his hands were back to normal. His clothing was torn open where he’d transformed-he could finally, finally feel the chill of autumn air on his skin-and he was still barefoot. He rolled lazily onto his back as if the petrified mold were the most comfortable bed in the world.

His eyes were still closed. “I know, a cage,” he said to Heisenberg.

“Are you kiddin’ me? THAT was somethin’ Winters, that was, holy shit!…..”

“Dada-raaahhhrweerrr!” Rosemary approved.

The wind picked up, ruffling Ethan’s hair. He was ready, finally, to sleep.

#ethan winters #karl heisenberg #fic:the lightning that jumps between #fic: winters and the beast #donna beneviento #mother miranda #molded ethan winters #ethan winters deserved better lol #alcina dimitrescu #rosemary winters #molded ethan

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thelightningthatjumpsbetween · 2 years ago

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Forty Nine

RE8 | Wintersberg | Romance, Slow Burn | Action, Sci-Fi

Sequel of Winters and the Beast, a Resident Evil: Village Story

Table Of Contents

This is the work of the Black God.

It is the work of a desperate man, nothing more. No gods required.

Nonetheless, his powers will have to be taken before he is imprisoned. With the aid of that entity there is no telling how easily he might escape.

We are in agreement. Bring forth the King.

—----

“What are you doing?”

“Just finished puttin’ everybody to bed,” the other said in an amused voice, “Figured if you’re gonna banish yourself out here, you might want a fire.”

Ethan sat up slowly, wondering what time it was. He’d come to the parlor after dinner; it had been early. He closed the journal and rubbed his eyes again. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to…stay in here for a while? I can get us drinks.”

“Sure, Buttercup.”

See anything you like, Buttercup?

Even further back, Ethan remembered sitting on the ottoman while Maricara inspected his face, his hand, musing about his existence.

Walking in the darkness, with no notion who he is! But how can it be healed?

His haltingly amiable words to Karl. What color were your eyes, before….?

Green.

Ethan handed over the whiskey.

“I’m not the wife,” he began, and Karl chuckled almost too readily, as though he knew it would come up sooner or later. “You’re the wife.”

“No way.” Karl’s accent was never misplaced, somehow.

“Is that something she was able to do?”

“I…I guess, read? Chris today, by accident. I don’t know how that’s possible, I thought it was only a thing that happened here, or with people who were infected.”

Karl’s expression moved to a sly one, and Ethan turned to him. “Did you know he…had feelings for me?”

“Nah. I agree with him, why would it bother me?” Heisenberg managed more whiskey. Ethan considered this, and finally smiled at what he realized must be a compliment.

Ethan realized something in that moment, and he turned to Karl, wide-eyed. “Is that why you won’t talk about–!” The crystal fragment.

Karl’s expression told him he was correct. Ethan’s face fell. “Wait, was it…Miranda trying to get that information from you? Did she…possess me?”

Karl had apparently already considered this. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think that was all you, wantin’ to know. An’ Ethan. I don’t want to talk about it because…”

He should have felt excited; he felt sick.

The Duke had said that, hadn’t he?

“But you still have your cadou–?”

“Talk to me, Ethan.”

The scowl was aimed at the fire. His voice sounded like a child’s.

“I don’t want you to die.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“It’ll be okay, Papa. Remember what I told you? We’re all just energy. I’ll always be around in some way.”

Life seemed very fragile and unfair and he could only cry about it. Karl’s arm draped over him, pulling him in closer.

Maybe it would be okay, but maybe it wouldn’t.

Neither Karl nor Ethan saw the shadow of Jochen, constantly beside him, never truly dead or alive. He sauntered out after his brother, eager to watch the other work.

—------------

Ethan fell in his dream, into a dark spot of a catalogued megamycete. He knew when he sat up that she would be there, looking at him with her pale eyes and confused expression.

“Miranda,” he sighed, closing his eyes. Not really Miranda. A fragment of Miranda. The only decent part she had left, apparently.

“You! I…forget who you are. You learned how to come at will?”

“No, I’m sleeping. Dreaming.”

“I must have been thinking of you.” She giggled; it sounded just like Eva.

Ethan rubbed his face tiredly. She continued, “Still, if you can come here in a dream that would mean, maybe your powers are growing?”

“You…the other you, said something today about almost being out of time,” he said. The train station. Maybe his desire to know had brought him here. “Out of time for what?”

Ethan thought of the dragon. Their re-creation of Eveline, who seemed to have far more power than everyone else. Eveline had, after all, created her own fungal root-in Dulvey.

He scratched his head. “Could you do that? Could you be the queen?”

She looked startled. “I…am a discarded piece. A reject. I cannot even remember who I am much anymore. We all go to the voices, and then nothingness, without a complete mind to lead.”

Ethan switched to rubbing his temple.

He was crying again. Miranda-fragment put her hand on his knee; she felt less than solid, like a soft breeze. “Are you all right?”

“I don’t know what to do,” he confessed, laughing while crying.

“What even is the Black God? I’ve heard that since I came here. Isn’t it just the Mold?”

“Miranda embraced the Black God,” Ethan said in a monotone, dragging his hand down his face. “She accepted it, or whatever it was she wrote in her notes.”

He remembered what Godric had said, about who the Black God was. We are.

He remembered Miranda eating the bloody heart as she sat on the rock island.

“Where….is it?”

Her expression of curiosity blossomed into one of awe. “You really….it’s…I…hm…don’t know. There’s so much I don’t know.”

“That makes two of us.”

Ethan closed his eyes again.

Ethan grabbed his phone and scrolled through it, looking for some sort of placation, some communication that would bring him peace, or allow him to ignore his restlessness. He found the opposite.

From Chris.

-Yeah, we all underestimated you. I’m not ashamed to say that, I’m relieved you’re as tough as you are.

-You have no idea how tough I have gotten. At this point I really should be studied.

-Don’t joke about stuff like that, Ethan…some people who get infected really are.

-I know. I just hope it’s enough to finally get rid of her.

-If anybody can do it, it’s you. You’re resilient as hell. And maybe as stubborn as she is.

-I’d say more stubborn, she just has time on me.

-Since when have I ever been anything but cautious?

-Very funny.

-You should say more ‘shit’ that’s true. I like hearing the truth.

-Don’t push your luck.

Why are you helping me?

Because I hate Miranda.

His family slept there, and Ethan might have felt guilt over once again venturing off on his own, except that the desperation he felt was louder in his soul than the guilt.

He wasn’t accepting death as he was told to, was he?

Was he doing what Miranda did?

He didn’t want Karl to die.

He didn’t want Eva to die, either.

He didn’t want to keep locking himself away.

The one that healed us.

Whatever voice that was, referred to Karl’s tornado lifting debris and rot away from the core, allowing it to ‘breathe’...to survive.

The taunt hurt, as it would be Eva who suffered. Miranda seemed to catch onto this emotion, and she tilted her head. “Eva..?”

She chuckled, not even listening to his inner dialogue.

“Worried about dear Heisenberg, are we?”

His lips moved into a tight line. “Tell me.”

He didn’t speak.

“Fuck you.”

“Is yours?” She grinned. “Do you understand?”

“What the hell does my past have to do with my question?”

“Who else has been absorbed by a…Megamycete?”

“I was,” she said proudly. “Rose was. As well as someone else you know, but not the ones you look to save.”

He threw his hands out. “I’m done with the fucking riddles. This isn’t a storybook.”

“And…if I did…Heisenberg?”

“Molding his mind, huh. Is that why he got away from you? Why he’s still away from you?”

Her smile faltered, and he lowered his head. The wind was blowing now, icy on his neck. Ethan barely felt it. He had another question.

“You have Heisenberg’s?” That didn’t sound right.

“It is a one time offer, Ethan. I suggest you choose wisely.”

Ethan was desperate to find a loophole or a solution, but not this desperate.

He knew, sensed, that she could not follow him here. Godric had put it best.

She is denied.

The Megamycete had changed.

This change is your work, Ethan.

The same voice as earlier, the one that spoke about healing. He ignored it, to examine the health of the root.

Careful now, he heard a voice mutter in a teasing, tantalizing voice as he approached. Don’t want to touch anything dangerous.

He spoke aloud. “If I…touch you. Am I going to lose my mind?”

“Human minds are so easy to lose. Like pocket change.”

“If I touch you, will it kill the root? Take more power?”

“Not so much more. I have been waiting for you. Saving energy. Sending you strength.”

He thought of moving the sarcophagus. Pinning Heisenberg.

“Why me?”

“So that we all may survive.”

He thought back to Miranda’s mind. A trickster. A ‘fickle one.’

Ethan’s heart beat so hard in his chest he thought it might burst.

“Shall we, Ethan Winters? Do you want my help?”

Alcina, he thought wildly, I need you here.

Was that even possible? His entire being, this entire chamber, coursed with energy. If it was possible, it would be here. The Black God chuckled, as if he didn’t mind entertaining.

“What is this? Am I dreaming?” Alcina hesitantly stepped toward Ethan, eyeing the Megamycete skeptically. “Is that…”

“I need your help,” he began anxiously. Her utterly bewildered look was almost humorous.

“Surely you are not going to touch that thing.”

“It’s…whatever’s inside…it’s offering to help us.”

“And you trust…THAT?”

She arched a brow. “Well, yes, I suppose.”

“You were in control of yours. How did you do it? Please. If you think I can’t do this, be honest with me, I need it right now, I need somebody to tell me the truth. I trust you to do that.”

Alcina was completely taken aback at this, but recovered quickly. She blinked rapidly, and crossed her arms, pacing and staring at the crystals that surrounded her.,

Ethan followed her pacing, watching her phase in and out of view with each pulse of the ‘heart.’

“Yeah,” he countered. “I guess I figured I’d cross that bridge when I get to it.”

“Such a man,” she muttered, but didn’t move. Her eyes were on Ethan as he wiped his palms on his pants, and then stepped forward.

“The warrior King, I so loved him. So many good battles together. Then one day….ritually ripped apart from each other. I would have broken him out of there, somehow…..and they knew it.”

This was enough to satisfy Ethan. If it was good enough for Godric, it was good enough for him. It was this, or go lay back down and try not to wake up black-eyed and insane, with no memory of it.

Sleep. Rest.

I can do it.

Part of him

–NO.

Changed him.

It wanted to get up, away.

NO.

Teeth for tearing.

Ethan couldn’t argue with that one.

Up.

He didn’t want to go up. Well, he did, but not like this. Not right now. Not until he could get control of this thing.

And then what?

Well, he’d be in control, that’s what.

Was he talking to himself?

Ethan felt something pulling. Tearing. Himself. Oh, no you don’t, he thought wildly. But he watched the ground disappear from view, and then everything disappeared.

“You can do it, Ethan,” Alcina muttered under her breath, eyes on the flock.

Donna turned to stare at her older sibling. “Do what?!”

His body was elongated, different. His forehead, arms, legs dripped with black. He was barely recognizable, but it was him, all right.

After biting her lip, Eva nodded, and Alcina said haughtily, “You have two minutes.”

Heisenberg actually beamed.

He’d know that upset gaze anywhere.

Karl had, in fact, known what Ethan was made of all along.

It changed nothing for him.

This changed nothing. He’d never seen the engineer so fascinated.

Captivated.

His eyes darted between them, back up to the engineer, back between them. Part of Ethan screamed in rage that Karl had brought his children down onto a cliffside to gawk at this animal.

But he could formulate thoughts even better with this added consciousness, that only saw things as they were. Had no fear.

They weren’t gawking. And they weren’t just his children, were they? This was what Alcina had spoken about. Family.

Ethan’s eyes were still wild and reddened, but he dropped his head as if to show submission-in reality, he was exhausted, and didn’t want to fight any longer. He finally closed his eyes.

Don’t let me give up -

His eyes were still closed. “I know, a cage,” he said to Heisenberg.

“Are you kiddin’ me? THAT was somethin’ Winters, that was, holy shit!…..”

“Dada-raaahhhrweerrr!” Rosemary approved.

The wind picked up, ruffling Ethan’s hair. He was ready, finally, to sleep.

#ethan winters #karl heisenberg #wintersberg #molded ethan winters #heisenwinters #resident evil village #mother miranda #alcina dimitrescu

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balzabul · 2 months ago

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At the bar, I sit with a smile. I order one evil beer and drink it. I stand with a smile and I go to the bathroom. I stand in the toilet like it's a wading pool, flushing that thing and gushing my socks and skechers with poopoo peepee water. Down I go like the rat in Fudged Away. Do you remember that movie? The rat with the British pants was a lez for real, but they made her lust after the Wallace and Growmit lookin' ratcel main character. I arrive in the sewer world and I'm on the lookout for my friendly doppelganger who I trapped here one month ago with a sinister switcheroo plan. I stop by my gay friend Nico's atelier and purchase a Dra-kyula's cape before proceeding to the evil sewer world night club. I enter like I'm John Wickola. The bouncer tries to stop me, but I reach out and turn his head very fast to the left. He tazes me and my full bladder dispenses with its toilet treasure all over my Dracula's cape. It creates a distractión for long, enough for me, to slip onto the evil dance floor and locketty my confuséd and good-a lyin' doppelganger. I produce my gom jabbar from the front pocket of me cargo pants and I approach, but I'm flaggeded down by my ex -boyfriend Tulip. His name was actually Luke, but I called him Tulips because he suck so good! Needless to say, I had to put him down, a simple casualty of my evil necessity. I continue to stalk towards my hapless doppelganger until I'm, within striking distance. My heart beats true, and haiya, ha, rah rah. I attack with my gom jabbar, a war in my name. I make my lapping and wailing escape as the bouncers chase after me, slipping on my peepee from their tasing episode. I get back to the transporter potties and ascend once again. I walk back into the bar and grin. I sit down, and I order one evil beer.

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yourlocalmechanism-dr-carmilla · 4 months ago

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@justpent and ferdinand + a little fic

Name: Duke Ferdinand Vyvyan of Copperbrass (not a actual duke)

Pronouns: he/they/it

Mechanism: their entire skeleton, esp the spine does cause them back problems

Position: Navigator aswell as a scientist

-sing/play the keyboard or synthesizer

-hair is mid length and curly and of blue-silver-grey colour, eyes are blue-grey, are rather skinny n tall, have a very scarred body, they usually wear red pants, striped socks, plain black shoes, a red glittery shirt with ruffles, a corset belt, typical steampunk goggles, Dark Gold/bronze jewelry, a pin of two masks, multiple watches, the chains on their pants have small pouches and bottles on them, sometimes they wear a victorian lab coat that they “found in a cargo bay” (left behind by dr. Carmilla), have a "X” scar on their Left cheek- its a brandkng sign for impersonators from their planet and its a curse to akways appear on theur cheek no matter what sometimes they wear a black Victorian coat. Always have daggers in their pocket. On rare occasions ,they wear a steampunk carnivals mask.

-needs a cane

-are good at throwing daggers and at hand to hand combat, can twist itselves magnificently

-has difficulty with his facial expressions- sometimes an expression can get stuck on its face and he takes longer to adjust his muscles so they do the right expression (due to his mechanical skeleton).

-a jack of all tradesa master of none)

-needs regular skin replacements as the metal skeleton slowly rubs the skin away; a act which is annoying and the skin replacing is unnerving for the crew

- THEY HAVE BAD KNEES AND SOMEHWO STILL FEEL THE PAIN

-they REALLY get along well with toy soldier aswell as raphaella

-has retained its sassiness from when it was alive and approaches things w logic but often with pure emotion! They love havign a good tile and crack jones Alot..but also they hide their sadness behind that oh so cheerful demeanor. Sometimes they are prone to talk in latin randomly and without a reason. They can be flirtatious

-no one really use their full name, except for the aurora or toy soldier occasionally. Usually they are “the duke” “copperbrass” “piece of sarcastic junk” or “ferdinand”

-he used to be an infamous impersonator of royal figures on the Planet of Carnibala, the planet of Carnival and (for some reason) Cannibals. Often he would make up some title and name combination and get into events for free- he was also a thief and sort of master of disguise. He qas praised as “the masterful trickster god of the carnivals folks” And let's face it, the royals on the planet were a bunch of arrogant, snobbish tyrants. And eventually, they set an assassin called “Evil eye” on him. And then, publicly, while Ferdinand was driving, he blasted him with a special sort of gun- a gun that pulverizes all of your bones instantly, leaving you a pile of flesh, dying VERY slowly. And that obviously resulted in him crashing his car and somehow surviving, being lightly toasted. This was all observed by dr. Carmilla, who took pity upon him and mechanized him with the best of his efforts

-death: after the other mechanisms die, it stops to take care of itself, until its just a,walking skeleton. It returns to its home planet- only to find it a barren wasteland, the afternath of a revolution. They throw themselves in a junk press out of pure desperation…no one mourns them

https://docs.google.com/document/d/170i2kXtv0UcO5GEYYGwRnOCBMUb9Eg59bmokMQw79IU/edit?usp=drivesdk

#the mechanisms #oc

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sam-is-running-away · 6 months ago

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ok, first oc introduced is: *🥁drum roll🥁*

Crying figure

Basic info:

full name: Aaron Collins (I'll refer to him with this name when i talk about his past self, before "ending")

male (he/him)

24 years old (forever) (<- mofe info about it on my future AU post)

175cm tall (or 5'7" for my fellow americans)

Fisical appearance:

starting from the top, Cry has black hair cut really short, ice blue eyes with slight bags under them, pale almost white skin, rosey lips, slim long nose, and two angry red scars running from right under his eyes down to his jaw. for the body, we have a pretty underweight composition with ribs showing and joints pretty visible. on the right palm of his hand, he has a "⦻" carved into it. and apart from a few other bruises and scars running around, nothing is mentionable. (Face claim: Tsokkun on instagram)

Attire & weaponry:

he wears a white mask that covers his nose and mouth with a black tear drawn on the side of it. as clothes, he wears a white t-shirt under a black zip-up hoodie, black ruined cargo pants, combat boots, and a jeans jacket with white fur on the inside that's always unbuttoned. as a weapon, he uses a butterfly knife that he had bought when he was into blades and always carries a sewing kit with him to sew his victim' eyes shut.

Personality:

Aaron was a pretty reserved and calm kid. nervous around adults and older kids, but pretty friendly around kids his age. the older he got, the colder, closed off, and emotional he got (he cried easily). he started to totally avoid people of any age and rarely got out of the house, aside from school. he completely stopped talking to other living people (family included) after the incident.

after going insane, Cry turned into a manipulative and charismatic person. he talks to anyone he meets and can be your best friend. if you never break his trust. it's also easy to make him angry due to him being mentally unstable.

Story: (TW! violence)

Aaron was born on May 16th, 1991, somewhere in Tennessee from his mother and unknown father. His mother was a s3x worker who didn't have the finances to care for him, so, with a broken heart, she left him at the hospital she had birthed him at after nameing him and giving him her last name, Collins.

for this reason, Aaron grew up in an orphanage where he met Claire, a girl with his same birthday. that's what made them bond. the two were best friends for years, promising each other that they would only be adopted together. sadly, years later, Claire was adopted and the two could do nothing to convince the headmistress to send them together. so, on September 20th, 1997, the two lost contact of eachother.

the next year tho, Aaron was adopted by his new family and moved to Alabama, where he would live the rest of his life, but it was not easy. at school, he had a hard time at making friends, the other kids would make fun of him for being adopted, and the only person he talked to was his brother and friend Mason, who was 2 years older than him.

as time went on, things got worse. the bullying went from mere kids' teasing to severe fisical and emotional abuse. the name calling, the shoves against lockers, the fake rumors, and the punches became normal daily routine for Aaron. but one day, it became too much. on a normal day of tenth grade, Aaron was cornered by his locker by three of his usual bullies, a girl named Jade and two guys named Carter and Sean and all three of them did not have good intentions. Jade, the leader of this trio, took out a switchblade with a mischievous and evil grin on her face while her guard dogs pinned against the lockers. the girl procided to carve two straight lines on each side of his, going from under his eyes down to his jaw. she then took his right hand and carved a "⦻" into his palm, all while mocking him and wishing him that he died and that "Slenderman kills you and feeds off of your fear, crybaby!".

after this horrible episode at school, his parents took Aaron out from pubblic school and hired tutors to homeschool him and tried to make his life somewhat normal again. but it wasn't normal. no, it just couldn't go back to normal, his face was disfigured and the event had effected him so much that he complitely stopped talking to anyone. this made his parents worry and they took him to various doctor appontments, but the only thing they could diagnoise him was his autism. sure, knowing that helped communicating with him, but the two still couldn't get him to talk, even after booking him a therapist.

the only person, or thing, that he talked to was a creature from his costant daydreaming. a tall, faceless, white, slender thing wearing a black suit with a red tie. Aaron knew it was the Slenderman, but he didn't care. It wasn't as evil as people made it, anyway. for the longest time, the creature wouldn't answer, it'd only stand there and stare at the boy as he talked to, apparently, no one. no one could see it but him. but one day, when Aaron made a rhetorical question, it nodded. it agreed with him. the Slenderman agreed with the boy. this made him feel understood for the first time, and he was immensly happy for this.

years passed, and from just nodding, the Slender started talking, helping him with homewokrs, internaing him during his free time and giving him suggestions. not so nice suggestions. it talked about getting revenge on the people who made his life miserable. it talked about killing who made him miserable. in the start, Aaron was kinda creeped out from these offers, but the longer it tried to convice him, the more he thought that yeah, he needed to get his revenge.

so, on a foggy, cold night, after he had turned 24, Cry put on his infamous jeans jacked, grabbed his favourite butterfly knife and went off to kill about a quarter of his old high school. he paid particular attention to the three that had ruined him, ruining them back and making them cry blood for eternity, turning them into the brybaby he once was. and oh, how much he laughed when he looked into their terrorised eyes, filled to the brim with tears.

"Who's the crybaby, now?~"

//////////

jeez, i didn't think i'd write this much

anyways, if you want to know funfacts or have some questions on the character, my ask box is open!

#creepypasta #creepypasta oc #oc #my ocs #writing #own character #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta phase #i feel so drained after this #love it

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legofanguy · 7 months ago

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Wereolw Zelda as Strix

A Legend of Zelda werewolf AU featuring Skyward Sword Zelda as the wereowl Strix, and I also feature Ganondorf, Inuyasha's father, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles characters, and my Inkling and Octoling characters.

Strix said to Zelda as she begins her story, "My name was actually Zelda, but the man whose made this way called me Strix, so I take it." and Zelda ask the wereowl, "Made you?" Strix said with sadness, "Well, my life has not been easy since I was a test subjects years ago." and Zelda said in shock, "Wait, what?" and Midna said to her, "Yeah. Beside Styla, do you seen any werebirds?" Strix said, "I remember having a happy life with friends when I was a little girl until I lost my mother to cancer before I enter high school. I wanted to make sure no one would lose their loved ones to cancer like I did, so after I graduated, I volunteer to this lab known as Vita Nova Genetics."

Zelda, a young woman with long blond hair and wearing a pink and blue dress, arrived at Vita Nova Genetics where her works will begins and walk up to the front desk, where a woman is working. Zelda ask the woman, "Hello, I'm Zelda, and I'm here for the volunteer job."

The head of Vita Nova Genetics is a tall dark skin man with red hair and a beard and wearing a dark business suit and he said to Zelda as he shake her hand, "You must be Ms. Zelda. My name is Ganondorf, the head of Vita Nova Genetics. Me and my late partner Mr. Toga Yasha formed this company to help improved the lives of human beings, even find a way to immortal. It is great of you to joined us, Ms. Zelda." and Zelda said, "I'm happy to be here as well, Mr. Ganondorf."

Mr. Ganondorf introduced Zelda to a African American woman with red hair, "Zelda, this is April O'Neil, father of scientist Kirby O'Neil. She joined our team a few weeks ago. I'm such that the both of you will get along well." and April said to Ganondorf, "Thank you, Mr. Ganondorf."

April whisper to Zelda, "I noticed that some important equipment was being moved to the basement, and Mr. Ganondorf seems to dodge any questions about it. We need to find out what is he hiding."

Zelda and April sneak inside the secret door and head to the basement of the labs and the two girls were shocked to see people in glass cages, and it look like some kind of twisted zoo. Looking around, Zelda and April see these people are a blond hair man wearing a yellow shirt, brown jacket, beige cargo pants, and boots, a african american man with a purple mowhak wearing black pants, a japanese man in a brown kimono, a shirtless blond hair man, a teenage girl with orange hair color wearing old clothes, and a teenage dark skin girl with purple hair color. The girl with purple hair see Zelda and April and begs them, "Can you help me? My name is Oliva, and I was volunteer to worked here, and I end up here. One of the people here.... they are saying they turn volunteers here into a new speices!" and this give horror to Zelda's heart as she remember Ganondorf's words, "We formed this company to help improved the lives of human beings, even find a way to immortal."

Just then, April let out a cry and Zelda turn around to see her missing and Zelda look around as Oliva said in fear, "Oh no, the head scientist... he is here." and Zelda quickly make a run for it before a pale skin man whose look like a mix of a human and a bat stop her and said, "Hold it right there. Do you not think I hear you coming in?" and the voice of Ganondorf said from behind her, "Well, well, Ms. Zelda." and she turn to see Ganondorf with six guards as the black skin man give a evil smile, "I see you found my hidden work here. I was hoping that you would find it late once you agree to be a full time here at Vita Nova Genetics. I guess you and Mrs. O'Neil was too curious." and then said, "By the way, Jurgen, where is April O'Neil?" and Jurgen, the human bat, answer, "I'm sure Dr. Stockman is seeing her now." April land right in front of Zelda and Ganondorf before a humanoid fly in a lab coat put on needle on Zelda's neck and she cry out after he injected something in Zelda and then fly to Ganondorf, "What did you just put in me?" and the fly said to Zelda, "I put the DNA of a Strix, a genus of the owl family, in you, Ms. Zelda, since you seems to be too smart." Zelda ask Ganondorf, "What are you doing here? What are you doing to these people?" and Ganondorf reply to Zelda as two of the guards take April away, "It is like I said, Ms. Zelda, as I'm improved lives of humans by awaking their animal nature. Me and Toga are werebeasts of ancient legends, our kind hunted by humans and wolves whose lived among men. We formed this company, Vita Nova Genetics, to help restore dying werebeast species and recover the natural order, but I see us more as alphas of this new pack of ours. Too bad that Toga doesn't see it that way and he would never accepted to this type of work I oversee at Vita Nova Genetics after recruiting Mr. Stockman here, so I have him help me remove Toga and I see to it that his finances are given to me to keep our work going under my watch." Zelda said in shock after hearing this, "Y-You killed your own business partner." and Ganondorf said, "No. Toga is alive, but the man he was is no more as I see to that and his death by car crash has to staged so no one would ask questions." and order Zelda, "Follow me if you want proof." which Zelda did due to the guards.

Ganondorf lead the group to a room where there was a white fur humanoid dog with red eyes growling inside a glass cage and moonight shining from lightbulbs as Ganondorf greet the dogman, "Hello, Toga. I wanted to introduced you to Ms. Zelda, or should I call her Ms. Strix now. Starting tonight, she is a new member of our team and my pack." Zelda was shocked about this before she begins to changed and Ganondorf said as he toon started to changed, "Ah yes, I forgot about the full moon lightbulbs would affect werebeasts like you and me. I guess it slips my mind."

Under the artifical full moon in the room, Zelda changed to her horror to a purple feather humanoid owl and collapse as Ganondorf, now a dark wereboar with a flame like mane, said to the guards whose become wolves, "Take her to her cage."

Weeks has passed and Zelda has accepted her new name of Strix as the scientists did tests on her and April, whose is now a werecat.

As Strix try to close her eyes, she hear alarms and saw a werewolf fighting the guards and freeing the others. He then walk to Strix's cage and the wereowl ask him, "Are you letting us out of here?" and the werewolf nod before he destroyed the glass, freeing Strix.

Outside, a wererat in a brown kimono said to the other werebeasts, "I help Boba keep his human mind and we work out a plan to escape that place. Now, we must part ways so Ganon would not catch us all." and April said to Strix, "I'm going with him. I don't have a home to go back to now." and Strix said to her friend, "Very well, April. I'm going with Boba then. I will mess you, my friend." and April said, "I will too, Zelda." The two friends give a farewell hug before Strix carry her new werewolf friend out into the night sky.

Strix continue her story, "After me and Boba escape the lab, we soon find Malon and Morhoam's farm and we basically begs them for a job and a home at the farm. Later on, after we discover each other wereeast form, we open up about what happened to us by Ganon and the rest of Vita Nova Genetics, and Morhoam formed the pack to formed a protection against Vita Nova Genetics." Zelda said to Strix, "How horrible of yours story, Strix." and then ask, "How did Ganon keep in control of himself?" Malon said to Zelda, "I'm afraid we are having a theory on that, which is the same on how you help your mate." Zelda realized in shock, "You are thinking that a weredragon help him?!?"

#julycanthropy #julycanthropy 2024 #werewolf #the legend of zelda #the legend of zelda fanfiction #werewolf au #skyward sword #princess zelda #ganondorf #splatoon oc #octoling #inkling #splatoon #oc character #ocs #wereowl #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #april o'neil

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majoringinsarcasm · 8 months ago

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Transphobes are stupid and never answer the questions I wish they would but even if they did they’d still be wrong

“Men who call themselves women shouldn’t be allowed in women’s restrooms! They’re going to assault women and girls”

There’s no way to say this without sounding insensitive. But before trans people were known enough in the last five years to hate them and put up all these laws and bans around them. What was your solution for men who hurt women and girls anyway?

If a man wants to hurt someone why would an arbitrary sign on a door stop him? If he has malicious intent and wants to spy and take a peek he could just walk in there. If women are so delicate and vulnerable than a man in full cargo pants with his shirt off could go inside and kill eveyone in there because he’s So Strong and women are So Weak.

Thinking trans women are evil predators because they have a penis but not acknowledging how the world operates when men hurt women without “pretending” to be anything is one of the many reasons why even before I realized I was trans I never bought into that fear.

Men are not inherently born with the killing stalking gene. The idea that A Sign is going to stop harm from someone who wants to cause it, man or woman or cis or trans or straight or gay, is laughable. The idea that women are too fragile and weak and need to be corralled into designated spaces because they aren’t safe anywhere else says more about society as a whole, people in general, than it does about trans women.

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imgntn1933 · 8 months ago

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**Darkness in the Cargo**

**1. Prison at Sea**

At a busy port, a large ship was preparing to set sail. On the edge of the dock, 19 men and a 7-year-old boy, all dressed in white t-shirts, long black pants, and boots, were being herded with their hands tied behind their backs and their mouths gagged with dirty cloths.

Armed guards roughly pushed them towards a cargo container that would be their prison. The sun began to set on the horizon, casting an orange glow over the dismal scene.

**2. Journey to the Cargo**

A man with a thick mustache, looking nervous, whispered to the man next to him despite his gagged mouth. "Is this the end?" His voice was muffled and barely audible.

Another man, older with gray hair, replied in a hoarse voice. "Stay calm, we must be strong." But fear was evident in his eyes.

The boy walked with dragging steps, his eyes filled with tears. He looked at his father, who tried to give a look of calm despite his own fear.

"Papa, I'm scared," the boy's muffled voice was heartbreaking.

The father tried to give a reassuring smile. "I'm here, son. We'll face this together," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

**3. Entering the Cargo**

Upon reaching the cargo container, the guards opened the steel door with a frightening creak. One by one, the prisoners were shoved into the dark and stuffy space.

"Get in, quickly!" one of the guards shouted harshly. "There's no place to run!"

A young man with a wound on his face stumbled as he was pushed in. "Please, don't do this!" he said with a muffled voice full of despair. But he was quickly silenced with a rough shove into the cargo.

The boy was pulled harshly, causing him to fall. "Please, he's just a child!" shouted a woman in the distance, possibly his mother, but the voice soon faded into the hustle and bustle of the port.

The container was shut with a loud metallic clang, trapping them in darkness and suffocating silence. Muffled cries, stifled sobs, and groans of pain filled the cramped, stifling space.

**4. Muffled Sounds Inside the Cargo**

Inside the dark cargo, muffled sounds of various emotions created a terrifying atmosphere. The boy's sobs became a heartbreaking background.

"Papa, I'm scared," his muffled cry sounded pitiful.

"I know, son. I'm here. We'll be okay," the father replied, though tears began to stream down his cheeks.

A young man started to struggle, trying to free his bound hands. "We have to get out of here!" he said with a muffled voice full of panic. But his efforts only caused more injuries to his wrists.

The older man with gray hair tried to calm them. "Stay calm, we must think clearly," he said, though his own voice trembled. "We have to believe there's hope."

**5. A Frightening Night**

As the night grew deeper, the sea became darker, as if the sky and ocean conspired to cover the evil deeds taking place. The ship sailed on, leaving a trail of waves behind.

On the deck, the armed guards discussed in low voices. They knew what they had to do, and the time of execution was drawing near. One of them turned on a flashlight and walked towards the container, opening the steel door with a frightening creak.

**6. Merciless Execution**

Inside the cargo, the prisoners could only stare with eyes full of fear. They knew this might be the end of their journey. Without mercy, the guards began to move the container to the edge of the ship. Some men tried to resist, even with their hands tied and mouths gagged, but their efforts were futile.

The boy began to cry harder, his voice muffled by the cloth in his mouth. The father tried to calm him with a look of sorrow and love, but tears streamed down his face too.

The container was positioned at the edge of the ship, and the guards ensured everything was ready. Without much talking, they pushed the container into the sea, which fell with a loud splash, creating a high spray of water.

**7. Sinking into Darkness**

Inside the container, seawater quickly entered through small gaps, making the air thinner and panic rise. Muffled cries and screams filled the cargo, but no one could hear them in the vast ocean.

The water rose quickly, soaking their feet, then their waists, and finally filling the entire space. In the darkness and panic, the prisoners huddled together, trying to hold on for a little longer. The father held his son tightly, trying to provide some comfort in their final moments.

But the water continued to rise, and one by one, their voices were drowned by the cold seawater. The cargo sank deeper, merging with the darkness of the ocean, taking 19 men and a little boy into the silent depths.

**8. A Tragic End**

That night, in the dark ocean, no one heard or saw their departure. Only the stars in the sky were silent witnesses to this terrible tragedy. The container disappeared beneath the surface, leaving small waves that slowly dissipated.

Their story may never be known to the outside world, but for those trapped in the cargo, that night was the end of all hopes and dreams. The darkness of the ocean swallowed them, keeping the secrets of bravery, fear, and a father's love for his son until the very end.

This tragedy reminds us of the cruelty and injustice that can happen in the world, hidden behind the veil of night and the vast, endless sea.

THE END

#prisoner

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oddlydrawnpuppets · 2 years ago

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My favorite frames to draw from the TikTok I just posted! Click the images for better quality :)

Find the TikTok here:

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRp3o5kW/

Anyway, MORE INFO about Tucker, Jazz and Sam’s outfits!! My HC is that the ancients used to be prevalent in society but people stopped worshiping them so they stopped interacting with humans. Even if the ancients wanted to interact with people they have been in the infinite realms for so long they can’t relate to humanity anymore. So Clockwork along with some other Ancients decided to take successors to do what they normally would in the human realm, knowing that a younger ghost would care more about humanity.

So you may or may not know about that ep. Where Tucker becomes a pharaoh but I really wanted to lean into that and have him be mentored by Horus, bc he’s protector of Pharaohs and just a symbol of protection in general and Tucker is a great embodiment of that, so OFC Horus would give him a nemes headdress, and Tucker would give his look a more modern, comfortable style with a hoodie and his regular cargo pants.

Undergrowth would definitely take Sam under his wing, after having to profusely apologize for using mind control against her. She made her outfit herself, like she does with all her clothes, using the gaudy dresses her parents buy her instead of throwing them out. Undergrowth would teach her how to use the plants as her eyes, (bc in my au Sam is legally blind) and so she has him embroider plants in her clothes.

And last but definitely not least we have Jazz! My thought is that Pandora would mentor her, and become a great mother figure to her and Danny. Pandora has her hands full guarding the box, but she wants to rid the world of its evils, and Jazz wants to help do that. Pandora insisted that “she is a princess, she must dress like one!” And made Jazz a beautiful dress from the finest silks she had. She even gifted her a beautiful tiara to match. Jazz is absolutely loving it bc what teenage girl doesn’t want to feel like a princess?!

And if your wondering who Danny’s mentor is… mostly clockwork, but all the ghosts have taught him a thing or two. Nocturn is definitely a father figure to Danny. He spends a lot of time with him, letting the boy ramble on about space for hours, as he sits and listens. He also makes sure Danny gets enough sleep, and that his dreams are pleasant. With the help of clockwork, he sometimes gives Danny prophetic dreams to help him with what is to come.

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thegirlcomfort · 7 months ago

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Brianna “Dark Lady” Moores

Basic Info for Brianna “Dark Lady” Moores

Full name: Brianna Elizabeth Moore

Nicknames: Bri, Brienne and Warrior princess, Punisher [Female], Evil Exterminator, Knight of Hell, Dark Justice and Dark Lady

Age: 25 years old

Date of birth: August 13 , 1998

Place of birth: New York, USA

Gender/Pronouns: Female • She/Her

Sexuality: heterosexual

Relationship: Dating

Species: Human

Likes: Martial arts, rock music, action movies, Japanese food, gratuitous violence, spiders

Hobbies: Training martial arts, reading manga, watching action movies, cooking, reading books, listening to music (Rock) and painting

Occupation: Martial arts instructor, professional fighter

Strengths: Strength, speed, agility, endurance, reflexes, balance, accelerated healing, fire manipulation, fire resistance, fire generation, temperature control, teleportation, invisibility, telekinesis, telepathy

Weaknesses: Arrogant, impulsive, stubborn, easily manipulated by people she trusts

Physical Characteristics and Appearance:

Alive/Dead: Alive

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 130 lbs

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Hair Style: Long straight hair, usually tied in a ponytail or braid

Face Shape: Oval

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Body Type: Athletic

Dominant Hand: Right

Tattoos: A dragon tattoo on the back and a revenge skull tattoo on the arm can be a more discreet way to represent Brianna’s revenge, but still visible enough to make an impact. Weapons can symbolize the tools Brianna will use to get revenge, such as knives, guns, or even her own weapons.

Voice (tone, rhythm, etc.): Low and husky, Dark and mysterious, Confident and assertive, Sarcastic and ironic, Slow and deliberate, Intense and passionate, Monotone and expressionless, Accent, Stuttering or hesitation, and Dramatic pauses

Fashion Sense and Style: Brianna Moores by Inspired by the Punisher and Ghost Rider:

Punisher:

Dark Colors: Brianna takes inspiration from the Punisher's dark color palette, using black, gray, and navy blue as her predominant colors.

Military Clothing: Brianna wears military clothing such as cargo pants, bomber jackets, and combat boots to reflect the Punisher's practical and utilitarian style.

Tactical Accessories: Brianna wears tactical accessories such as holsters, utility belts, and gloves to prepare for combat.

Skull Symbols: Brianna uses skull symbols on her clothing and accessories to pay homage to the Punisher and his quest for vengeance.

Ghost Rider:

Leather Jacket: Brianna wears a black leather jacket like the Ghost Rider, which is fire-resistant and offers protection during motorcycle chases.

Leather Pants: Brianna wears black leather pants to match the jacket and ensure comfort and flexibility while riding.

Chains and Spikes: Brianna uses chains and spikes on her clothing and accessories to reflect the Ghost Rider's rebellious and aggressive style.

Flames: Brianna uses flame details on her clothing and accessories to symbolize the Ghost Rider's supernatural power.

Shoe size: 38

Other characteristics:

Languages spoken: English, Japanese

Accent: American

Personality type: INTJ (Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Judging)

Cultural background: American

Residence: New York, USA

Speech patterns: Direct and concise, Brutal and honest, Sarcastic and ironic, Self-deprecating and Laconic

Frequently used phrases/words:“ Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

"I'm not a hero. I'm a vigilante."

"Death doesn't scare me. It sets me free."

"I'm the worst thing that ever happened to you."

"You're about to make a big mistake."

Zodiac: Leo

Sense of humor: Sarcasm, Irony and Self-Deprecation

Relationships:

Friends: Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Takeda Takahashi, Kuai Liang - Sub Zero/Scorpion

Enemies: The criminal organization "The Hand"

Family (and family dynamics): Father drunk (Dead by Brianna), mother (dead), younger sister (dead) and younger brother (dead)

Birth order: Oldest

Best friends: Johnny Cage, Kenshi and Kuai Liang - Sub Zero/Scorpion

Close friends: Takeda Takahashi

Abilities:

Special powers: Fire manipulation, fire resistance, fire generation, temperature control, teleportation, invisibility, telekinesis, telepathy

Fighting style: Taekwondo, Muay Thai, Karate, Krav Maga, Kung Fu and Wushu

Skills: Martial arts, sword fighting, Smoke bombs, guns and knife

Entertainment:

Favorite TV shows: Daredevil (2015-2018), Jessica Jones (2015-2019) The Punisher (2017-2019), Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (2013-2020)

Favorite games: Call Of Duty, Metal Gear Solid, Doom, and Bayonetta

Favorite book: The Lord of the Rings

Favorite Movies: John Wick (2014), Kill Bill: Volume 1 (2003) e Volume 2 (2004), Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) , The Raid: Redemption (2011) and The Bourne Identity (2002)

Other favorites:

Favorite food: Sushi

Favorite drink: Coffee and Scotch whiskey

Favorite place: Japan

Favorite animal: Dragon and Cat

Favorite color: Black

Favorite song: "Bodies - Drowning Pool" and Downfall" by Children of Bodom

Favorite band: Deftones and Children of Bodom

Favorite weather: Rainy

Favorite season: Fall

Favorite holiday: Halloween

Transformation:

Brianna decided to change her life after a near-death experience.

She left the gang and began working to rehabilitate herself.

She found solace in music and art.

She developed a strong sense of justice and decided to fight against injustice and corruption.

She became a vigilante and began hunting down the criminals who wronged her.

Motivation:

Brianna is driven by her quest for revenge against those who have wronged her.

She is also driven by her desire to protect the innocent and fight injustice.

She believes the world needs people like her to do what is right, even if it means breaking the rules.

Strengths:

Brianna is a strong and determined fighter.

She is intelligent, cunning, and resourceful.

She is brave and fearless.

She is loyal to those she trusts.

She has a strong sense of justice

She has difficulty forgiving herself and others.

Her inspirations

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat oc #oc x canon #oc #i changed name my oc this shit lmfao #oc: brianna “lady dark” moores

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i4lixie · 3 years ago

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𓂃 slide

summary: so maybe you wore a slutty outfit to 3racha's concert in your city. you didn't expect it to get attention--especially any attention from him.

genre: smut lolol, han is a lil bit of a fckboy

pairing: han x fem!reader

xtra info: this is a 3racha!only au, skz don't exist here, 3racha aren't idols but a slightly well known rap group. this was also a request!

You were just like all your other friends who wanted to look as sexy as possible for this upcoming show. April 18th, 8:30 PM was the time that all the boys of 3RACHA would be making their way on stage.

To say you... whored yourself out, is an understatement.

You didn't care. The amusing lyrics of "WOW" blasted through your speaker as your friend helped you slip on your see-through fishnet shirt over your black bra with "3RA" written on one cup, "CHA" on the other. The black cargo pants slightly evened out how revealing the top half of you was-they were split in the middle right underneath your ass, and you were happy for that-you would surely overheat in that nightclub with everyone around you.

So maybe you were going a little overboard. You didn't care.

"I swear if Changbin is in those glasses... I'm gonna piss myself." Hyewon whispers out as she scrolls through 3RACHA's Twitter. As soon as you were at a red light, you turned to see the picture-it was one they posted just an hour ago that you didn't get to see because you were too busy making yourself look like a Goddess with the new makeup you'd bought.

Changbin sported some clear glasses with what seemed like a tight white shirt with leather pants and a leather shirt that was cut in random places, squeezing him and making his physique pop. Chan wore a black blazer and nothing underneath, the blazer being buttoned the first few buttons, but left open after, revealing his muscled tummy.

And Jisung, your favorite. You could've crashed your car at the sight of him.

He's evil. Evil, for wearing that crop top with the same leather cut out as Changbin and leather pants. If you weren't a fan, you almost would've thought they were idols about to perform on a music stage, but that could never be your boys. Their personalities were far from idol-ish.

And it didn't help that your friends, along with you, got tickets to be as close as possible. Right in the fucking front.

"They're gonna kill us," you whimpered, your heartbeat suddenly racing as you parked in front of the nightclub. You were a bit early, and so were other fans it seemed--some people waiting outside their cars with alcohol or cigarettes in between their fingers.

Getting out of your car, you were shocked to suddenly hear a bunch of shouting and cheering. Looking towards the direction of the sound, your eyes popped at the sight of 3RACHA climbing out a black van. They were a little far away, but close enough that you could stare at them and tell if they were staring back.

They were. They were.

"Dude, they undoubtedly saw your fucking bra." Chaeyoung giggled at you, reaching forward to squeeze your tits, and you grunted at her as you pushed your hands away. She was right though--you made the words as big as possible and wrote them in white so they would be clear to any human eye. "What if they invite you on stage?"

"Then everyone in that bitch is getting a free strip show," you stated bluntly, causing your friends around you to laugh, especially at the fact that you were dead serious. You wouldn't miss the chance to at a one in a lifetime experience.

Getting into the concert was easier and way more fun than expected. You got plenty of compliments on your outfit, even a "they're definitely taking you to the back for that," every once in a while from fellow fans. Soon enough you were at the front of the club with your other friends, a cup full of sprite in your hand. You didn't wanna get drunk-you wanted to remember every second of this.

After a couple of minutes of vibing with the crowd, the lights in the club dimmed and screams erupted. You were amongst them, especially as the boys came out one by one, with wide smiles on their faces. Jisung's smile was turning into a little smirk as the screams got louder and louder, and his smug attitude was already making you weak in the knees.

"What's up motherfuckers?!" Changbin yelled into his mic, causing the other two to laugh as they helped in hyping up the crowd. "We're so excited to see all of your faces!"

"All of you already know the tracklist right?" Chan asked, and you nodded while everyone in the club told him yes. "Good. Han might forget some of it."

"Fuck you!" Jisung shouted at the other, though the smug smile stayed on your face. You couldn't help but laugh, and heat spread through your face as his eyes met yours due to the sound. He smiled a little more at you.

"He noticessss youuuu..." Hyewon whispered to you, nudging your shoulder. You roll your eyes.

While they introduce themselves and go through the tracklist once more, Jisung keeps meeting your eyes. You can tell he's looking at your bra, and you embrace it.

As soon as they start performing, the vibes start changing. You lose yourself in their music like you do when you're dancing in your room to their voices. You rap along, along with your friends, taking sips of sprite and feeling some of the soda on your chest, your skin sticky underneath the bright lights of the stage.

It's the middle of the setlist when they pause, taking a break to say a few words. Chan's are full of emotion, thanking everyone for staying and supporting. Changbin's are more or less the same, with some jokes filling the stadium with laughter.

"All of you have got on some nice ass outfits too," Han starts, tongue coming out to swipe at his bottom lip as his eyes suddenly slide over to your figure. "Especially this cutie in the front row. You got our name on your tits? That's a first."

Instead of shying away from the attention, you embrace it. Once in a lifetime experience.

"Guess who's name I got on my ass?" You tell him back, grinning as the nightclub erupts in cheers at your snakiness. Jisung's mouth drops a little at your confidence, and he winks at you, a telling look in the way his eyelids lower.

The next two hours were the best you could ever hope for. They performed a new song featuring two smaller rapper friends of theirs, The Tortoise and The Hare, and the beat sounds unbelievably sexy on the speakers. Of course, you know every word, and you lean into Jisung as he comes closer to you with the mic, rapping right in your face. His energy is high and you match it just as well, maybe even hitting the lyrics more than he does.

At the end of the concert, you're busy taking pictures and sharing videos with other fans when someone in all black approaches you, towering over you with his height. Leaning down, he whispers into your ear.

"A request from J.ONE--meet him backstage as soon as you can. He'll be waiting."

The man leaves. You sneak a look at his face before he does and you're left breathless once you realize that it's 3RACHA's manager.

Chaeyoung appears next to you, seeming as shocked as you are. "Was that-?"

"Yep. It was."

"Well?! What are you still standing here for?! Go get some dick!"

You widen your eyes at her, mouth opening to speak, but she cuts you off. "Nope. Don't need to worry bout me and Hyewonnie, we're going to the afterparty down the street. Join us when you're ready... if you can walk, at least."

You pop her and she leaves with Hyewon, snickering.

Once you start weaving your way through the crowd and walk behind the manager, you start to actually get nervous for the first time tonight. If Jisung wanted to fuck you, suck you, lick you--hell, you'd let him do anything. Sex was never something you shied away from, especially not from drop-dead gorgeous men.

You're too deep in your thoughts to notice the manager stopping until you nearly fun into him. His head points towards a closed door with the name J.ONE written on a piece of paper stuck towards it.

"He's in there."

With a small breath, you wished yourself luck before opening the door.

Jisung is sitting on a couch, his forehead dripping in sweat. His hair is wet but still parted in the middle how you like, and once you're so close to him, you can see his eyes are decorated in red eyeshadow.

He grins. "Hey, cutie."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Do you do this with all your fans?" you tease him, head tilting as you lean back against the door.

His grin widens. "Why? You jealous, baby?"

"Jealous?" you scoff. "Not at all. Just don't want you to think I'm a quick fuck cause I like your music. I'll delete it all reallll fast."

"Baby, baby, baby," he soothes, and your heart flutters. "It's not like that at all. I just wanna get to know you, I can't do that?"

You stare at him blankly. "Get to know me while I have your group's name across my boobs?"

He shrugs, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "You wore it, not me... you had me distracted all night."

"Did I?"

"You really did," he murmurs, suddenly standing, and his presence fills the room. His shirt rises and your eyes are quick to get any sneaks at his tummy that you can. He is dangerously attractive. "Couldn't stop imagining having that bra in my pocket after I-"

"After you what?" you egg him, stepping off the door this time and closer to him. He stares you down. "Go on. Say it, Hannie."

"After I make you cum, baby."

That was all you needed. You wanted this, and he wanted it too--neither of you was shying away from it.

It took about three seconds after you kissed him for him to slam your back against the door, bending down to reach your height. His hot hands slide your exposed, sweaty thighs, gripping at the flesh.

"I believe you told me you had someone else's name written on your ass," he whispered against your lips. When you opened your eyes, his were still closed, and your pussy thrummed at how into it he looked. Just like on stage. "That true, baby?"

"Maybe," you whispered back. "Wanna see?"

He wasted no time in spinning you around, his arms reaching around your waist to unbuckle your cargo pants. Yanking them down, he inhaled sharply at the sight of you clad in just a black thong, with "J.ONE'S" written on your right asscheek, signed with a heart next to it.

"Holy shit," he muttered breathlessly in your ear, kneading at your flesh, driving mewls from you as you bucked up against him. It felt way too good. "You were just planning on giving this pussy to me tonight, weren't you?"

You were on fire. Nothing could cool you down, as his words were only lighting you up further, making you unbelievably hot. "I was hoping I'd get lucky."

"I'm the lucky one," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. A cute moment in this bubble of sex around you two. "I bet you taste amazing, huh?"

Plucking your thong out the way, he ran one finger down your slit, from your clit to your hole which clenched around nothing. Pressing further against you, he slid in the long digit, immediately sliding it back out and messily fingerfucking you just to feel your writhe against his chest. Your pussy aches for more and he gives you just that; adding one more, two more fingers until he's stretching you out, feeling out a rhythm with his fingers. It's fast, so fast you can barely think straight, and once he swipes the pad of his thumb over your clit you're a goner, sucking in his fingers as you cum all over them.

It's quiet for a moment, other than the sound of you breathing heavily against the door. Then, the sound of Jisung licking his fingers invades the air.

"Just as sweet as you look," he chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "Can I fuck you now, baby?

The fact that he's asking surely makes you drip. His fingers are steadily stroking your pussy, even sliding up to prod over your rim, your eyelids fluttering.

"Yes, please, Hannie," you permit him through shallow breaths. "Please fuck me."

He purposefully goes slow with tearing open the condom wrapper, and you can only imagine how sexy he looks sliding the rubber over his cock. You try to take a peak but he stops you, whispering "ah ah ah" as the hand finds the back of your head, making you face forward.

"I'll let you see the next time we meet up," he whispers, sliding his tip between your folds.

Next time. He wants to see you again.

He delves inside you, and all the tension from the concert snaps as soon as he's as deep as he can get. Pleasure soars through your body with every inch that slides up into your pussy. His hands are tight against your hips, and he can't help but roam his palms over your thighs, especially over his name-pulling out and snapping back into you.

He fucks what belongs to him. He doesn't want to go slow and neither do you, nails scratching against the door as he rams into you at a steady, almost melodic pace. He doesn't shy away from being quiet either, his voice making you clench even tighter. Is it possible that he sounds just as good moaning for you as he does rapping?

"Definitely gonna write about this pussy," he grunts in your ear, staying deep inside you and rolling his hips in little circles, which causes you to sigh wistfully. "Write about how it's already got me addicted."

His hand comes up to find your left breast as he starts fucking you again, squeezing at your already hard nipples. "This bra, too. I'm stealing it. Just so you know."

You're too lost to respond. You can almost feel yourself going dumb, not caring about anything around you or anyone that can hear as he moves. You can tell he's the same way--slapping your ass every other second, leaning forward to dig his teeth in your shoulder when you position your hips up on his cock.

"Baby.." he starts, his hands finding their way to your chest now, holding onto you like he's about to lose it. "Baby, I'm gonna nut."

"Me too, me too," you join him in chants, both of your voices high and needy. "Don't stop. Don't stop.."

He fucks into you harder, quicker, his grip tight on your body as he nears the edge. In just a few more quick thrusts you're cumming around him, head falling back once you feel his condom filling with thick warmth. You're shaking at this point, too weak to even stand—but he's got you, holding you up and somehow maneuvering the two of you to the small couch in the room.

Most people would think lying on a random rapper after sex, sticky and wet, is the grossest thing ever. But you think of it as the perfect end to your night.

"...Hey."

"Hm?" You look up at him.

"I really want that bra. Y'know, as like, a souvenir."

Yep, you think. Perfect ending.

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