#fire staff sword thingys

[sweetjulieapples]

Dear Inquisition,

Please keep The Herald of Andraste busy elsewhere, maybe send her back to The Hinterlands, yeah? She made twelve custom weapons and supplies are exhausted.

If she must continue, at least encourage her to use some creativity when she names things.

Harritt

[lmk-aus-galore]

Cinema Sins/Wins Rip Off of Lego Monkie Kid.

Yeah yeah I’m back folks, I just decided to take a looong break.

Inspired by @satansaidmyturnintheh3||scape

Rules:

-I won't be counting Animation Mistakes, because Idk how to do that, and I myself am a beginner animator (more like incredibly amateur, to the point I'm asking my sister for help) Unless of course the Animation is obviously and clearly having a mistake for me to watch.(Or it is said in the wiki) The other reason is because I don't want to keep repeating a scene just to check for an animation mistake.

-!This is mostly for entertainment purposes, sorry if I sound too mean!

-I also won't be counting flashbacks as 'mistakes' because most of them are based on bias.

-I'll be formatting it like this

-Neutral

-Sin

-Win

Let’s get started.

——————————————-

-Intro.

._.

-Love how you can see where Mei, Sandy and MK are in this scene.

-On the other hand why does Pigsy have a random game machine beside his shop? I know there are apartment buildings on top of said shop but in Season 2 he actively has authority to remove it.

-Secondly is MK currently on break at the moment or is he just, ‘slacking off’ judging by his clothes he should be currently working.

-Dragon Horse and Stone Monkey.

-Ah yes the underrated trio. Sandy, Mei and MK. Please tell me this group has a name.

-Bad time to call your daughter.

-The way Mei is so nervous to talk to her mother and the way she talks as if her mother doesn’t even give her enough time to explain, like I think Mei’s Mother is cutting her off at times here and it’s not really okay. It feels like Mei is talking to her boss than her Mom.

-Sandy for the win.

-The finishing move is a spin of the staff and a hit to the leg…wow MK.

-I really love how Sandy is just casually friends with these guys. Like these guys just met Sandy a few weeks ago and all of a sudden they said ‘Let’s be friends’

-Ok MK you should really get social cues…or at least let Mei get a word in-

-‘I always wanted to see Mei’s secret Dragon House full of secret Dragon stuff’ makes me wonder why no one believes in the Monkey King stories. Either that or why Mei isn’t being worshipped like a deity by now.

-Also MK, kinda creepy…but to be fair Mei put cameras on all of you…

-BRO THIS BULL CLONE HAS EVERYTHING ON HER?!

-Why does this Bull Clone pull out the same Two Pictures twice?

-Mei doesn’t smile in her photo, along with the rest of her family :(

-In fact she looks kinda restricted.

-Also Key detail, looks like Mei’s little green hair things are dyed!

-PIF confirms that Sha Wujing’s spear and Zhu Bajie’s rake are Celestial Weapons that later tie into Season 4

-We also have the Calabash, PIF’s fan, Wukong’s staff, Nezha’s spear and two of the Samadhi Fire Rings…though I think by this time of development this probably is Nezha’s little ring thingys in his shoes? Not really sure. The only one we don’t know about is the unidentified sword and the random rope.

-Also is she implying that her own fan is a powerful artifact? I guess that makes sense…?

-Why does PIF’s animation always stretch her or squish her I can’t take her seriously XD worse that it’s usually the face.

-Mei wanting to be a normal child is so sad. On the other hand why don’t we have more fanfics of Mei and her family dynamic? Come on people the angst is right there!

-When you think about it, the High-Tech security might’ve been the reason Mei became the ‘Tech Girl’ in the group. Since her family dabbles in High-Technology it’s only obvious she grew curious of that stuff.

-On the other note, what’s with Ancient families and suddenly getting a grasp at handling High-Technology? Like bro Red Son and Mei have so many parallels to each other it’s insane.

-MEI THIS IS WHY YOU DONT LEAVE THE DOOR OPEN.

-You know Red Son you might need to double down in calling Mei a peasant because uhh…wow, the place is huge.

-Mei’s room doesn’t have a door, which shows how shitty these people actually are.

-Also Mei has a lot of rock aesthetic posters, including one with a spider meaning Mei canonically had a rock phase. That or a goth phase so goth Mei is probably canon.

-Why I thought of rock is because of the two sets of guitars she has, one being an electric guitar.

-Mei also has a skateboard indicating she used to skate.

-She has an indoor TV with two game controllers (Why didn’t they just play in her bedroom?)

-And finally she has some things I think her parents would’ve given her such has the pony statue and the meditation carpet on the floor.

-Also apparently she plays the piano? Or is that even a piano?

-The legend of Mei’s sword is kinda cool actually.

-WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH IT?! HOW DO YOU DECIDE WHO GETS TO WEILD IT THEN?!

-I have a feeling I know why no one has been able to hold that sword in like…ever (They all look so mean)

-‘You two boot up the old TV!’ What TV? There is literally no TV there? Is there a TV off-screen? Even so where would you put said TV? And again, why not your room?

-MK control your strength- how the hell does that even happen?

-Bull Clone literally just yeeted his hat at him.

-Said Bull Clone took the precious Dragon Sword despite the fact that he was struggling to get it off the statue

-Mei calls her Motorcycle like a horse, get it? Dragon Horse?

-Okay now I don’t blame MK I think that pinball machine is old. BECAUSE HOW DOES THAT JUST HAPPEN?!

-Mei this house should at LEAST take up a whole acre, HOW BIG IS YOUR HOUSE?!

-Mei fixing her bike is while she is chasing the Bull Clone is badass as hell. We do not talk about her enough.

-Pro tip: Never mess with Mei.

-This is why we need to give this family some doubt, okay if literally all her ancestors are dissing her and insulting her to her face because of the way she acts then maybe you shouldn’t turn a blind eye.

-‘You know what I am part of this family! I am Mei! Descendant of the Great Dragon of the West Sea, this is mine! And this is my House!” You go girl, show these guys a what you’re made of!

-A very good take on Mei accepting who she is despite her family’s expectations on her. She’s part of the family but she knows that she needs to stand up for herself. Good bravo.

-IS IT JUST ME OR IS THAT THING BIGGER THAN NORMAL?!

-I wonder what the parents’ reaction was, Holy cow this might’ve been QUITE the sight.

-Yep that Bull Clone is straight up dead.

-MK I think that machine is really just old.

-Lol, Sandy making sure MK doesn’t lose focus.

-‘Somebody forgot our luggage’ then she stares directly at the dad and said dad doesn’t give a damn.

-The fact that Mei has to apologize first before getting praised is messed up as hell. If someone is trying to steal a really powerful relic such as that, then obviously it’s gonna be chaos, but the fact she has to apologize first before they acknowledge she did something good is messed up.

-But to be fair I think they do love Mei, really, but the way they parent just icks me.

-And Mei’s mom sounds like she pulled that whole talk out from google.

-Mei’s dad sounds…familiar hold up-

-KNEW I HEARD THAT VOICE SOMEWHERE. (Also apparently Mei’s mom is the same VA as Mei, so Stephanie Steph is just talking to herself)

-Poor MK…

[flutteringfable]

sibby vtuber avatar questionnaire thingy!

Which one : lightning, nature, fire, light, dark, water, wind, earth, ice, creation or destruction?

How do you like to present : masc, fem, neu, or androg?

Which weapon : physical ( hand to hand, etc. ), sword, long sword, gun, bō/staff, bow and arrow, magic, dagger, katana, or battle axe?

Where would you rather have a charm : ear, waist, back, neck, hand/wrist, or on a piece of clothing/on a possession of yours?

yippee!! :3

i’m the biggest lloyd kin ever so i’m gonna have to say creation lolz.

i like to present in an androgynous-fem leaning way. i guess my sonas are more fem presenting but anywhere in between the two is fine lolz.

i’m normal. about battle axes. (<- still salty they didnt get navia’s axe from a few months ago)

i think it would be fun if the charm was on my waist as an allusion to my ponysona lol. sorta like a cutie mark :3

[destinysbounty]

Huh. I just realized I haven't said much about my steampunk fanseason/AU thingie! Which is weird, considering I've been working on it for over 6 months at this point. Well, time to remedy that!

Title: City of Gears

Premise: The ninja are asked to investigate a series of disappearances in the quaint tourist town of Yama. Eventually their investigation uncovers the nefarious schemes of Lady Adelaide, a woman who is using a mysterious power to change peoples' shapes at will. So far she's been turning people into an army of wooden mannequin slaves, and intends to do the same to the ninja - but thanks to the intervention of her henchman "Lefty", Zane is instead turned human!

So now Zane has to adjust to being human and all the drama that comes with that, with each of his friends dealing with traumatic situations of their own, all while trying to stop Lady Adelaide from turning everyone in the world into mannequins.

There's a lot more to it than that, but I won't bore you with the details. Instead, here's a drawing I made for it!

My art is a bit rough around the edges so I'll try to explain what you're looking at real quick. In the main box is Zane, who has a mysterious gold scar running down his now-human face, with "Lefty" peeking out from around his shoulder and Lady Adelaide standing off to the side. She's holding a strange glowing lantern staff, with its glow spiraling ominously around Zane.

The top and bottom boxes each have three gears, with each gear containing the face of a different ninja. On the top row from left to right is Lloyd, Cole (a ghost), and Nya. On the bottom row is Pixal, Kai (some kind of fire monster), and Jay.

My goal with this story is to give each character their own subplot even though it's Zane-centric, and each of the gears has little clues to how their arc will play out. Such as - Lloyd's Oni horn, Cole being a ghost, Nya's intensity, Pixal's sword, Kai's uhhh fire body???, and Jay's goggles.

And as for why their gis look so bland....look I'm not very good at this cut me some slack, that was the best I could do.

That being said, my bestie @oracleofdiscord made some absolutely phenomenal art of the villain, Lady Adelaide, which you can check out here!

(Close-ups under the cut)

[sixtypackofcrayola]

👁👁 LMK GENSHIN AU??? I AM L I S T E N I N G

OK OK A COUPLE PEOPLE ASKED SO HERE I GO NO THIS WILL NOT BE FORMALLY WRITTEN :SMILE: 'm just gonna ramble!! aannndd hope i make some kinda sense theresss gonna be some holes and things i havent come up with n ill mention them but ppl are lucky ta fill stuff in with their own ideas n feed this brainrot<33

okaayyy so first is mk right so abt mk's vision,, mk is like the last in the little hero group to get a vision. hes been tryin for SO LONG to get one and ever since mei got hers hes been kinda more driven to get one himself. he knows theres like- special circumstances involved n hes been tryin to like get that cool thing to happen so they can get theirs but,,, nothins worked yet yknow mk like tries to make guess abt what vision theyre gonna get one day and mei thinks mk is gonna get pyro and like woah cool just like his da-- i mean pigsy!!! so hes not sayin itd be his one and only choice but thinkin about it and what tang has said abt visions he thinks pyro is def possible bc hes real passionate about a lot of things!! like his job and his friendships and MONKEY KING LORE and yknow all that good stuff so he gets it after doin somethin similar to the big fight at the end of a hero is born just- beatin' the SHIT out dbk ig along with his friends and while hes there and struggling but knowin he has to defeat this guy for the sake of everyone he ends up getting his vision and he doesnt focus on the element too much (it does end up being geo) at first its more just HOW TF DO I USE THIS NOW.. but he ends up doin somethin real wacky and BOOM dbk gone 4 now and like after all that is over n we're back to chilling he and the others r like celebrating bc WOO mk got his vision AND we defeating a huge demon!! and mei is like huh i really thought u were gonna get pyro like me and tang is like pushes up glasses well acTUALLY-- and proceeds to explain why geo visions r given to people and all that and while mk does have a lot of passion which would make it make sense 4 him to have a pyro vision hes far more hardworking with his job already and now that hes monkey kid hes gonna b working even harder to protect people mk's been working hard all his life really, not just with his job and now defeating demons, hes been working hard to get a vision so he could be something greater, his bio parents he doesnt remember much about but they were always so unimpressed and demanding so he tried real hard to live up to their expectations and make them happy because he wants his friends and family 2 be happy,, and hes always tried hard to be something more than what he is as he got older and all the monkey king stories really inspired him a lot and thats why hes loved all this lore and stuff for so many years but like,, he could never be a hero like that,,, oh wait anywho mk is a geo polearm(?) user, dunno if ya could call the staff a polearm buuut thats what im goin' with hes also got monkey king's abilities along with the geo ones so ohu boy,, ill talk more abt that part when i get to wukong and mac ALSO I FEEL LIKE MK COULD ALSO BE PYRO AND I COULD CHANGE IT BUT,, I LIKE GEO TOO,,,, oops all pyro traffic light trio????

next is mei who is a pyro sword,, i dont know much abt her backstory/vision story yet sooo if ya wanna spit some ideas im all ears BC I FEEL BAD NOT HAVIN MORE STUFF FOR HER

i dont got much for red son either buuut heres what i do got; red son kinda already has,, magic of sorts bc,, yknow partial demon (in this hes only like,, half technically. yknow how yanfei is like half adeptus-) but its amplified a bunch by the vision and WOO FIRE and theyre a pyro catalyst honestly debating on whether or not they wold have a book or whatever that other floaty thingy is called but like when i imagine either they kinda look similar to dodoco tales or blackcliff agate hmm,, red's two big passions are building and cooking- his tech could possibly rival that of fontaine's advancements if he wanted it to,, they actually take some inspiration from the works of fontaine as well as for the cooking, u already know, spice master. i want a cooking battle with them and xiangling- they'd laugh at the hottest option on the menu at wanmin red son got their vision pretty early in life- a bit older than he was in canon,, which was still a problemmm and ya can guess why,, demon power fire element amplification little tempermental fire demon boy go boom boom samadhi fire or somethin,, so yeah theyre not as powerful as they could be and the vision was actually taken from them until they were older and more mature i suppose red doesnt remember this- they think they got their vision at an older age since it kinda just appeared by him one morning

tang is dendro but like he doesnt fight so he hasnt found a weapon yet- i think itd be real funny if he was a CLAYMORE or maybe a sword bc of that one episode yknow the one,, but honestly catalyst could work too and hed def have a book one if so dont got a backstory or vision story for him either :( nor do i have much for pigsy but pyro,, somethin. y'all can add to pigsy's stuff if ya want i also feel bad for not havin anything for him but passion = cooking woo

sandy,, hydro catalyst def and hed have a book one too,, i think its a little funny seein this huge ass dude and ur like "oh he could totally wield a claymore" and he could but hes got his little magic book and could still beat the shit out of anyone (not that he would unless needed,, but he COULD)

mo. thats it. just mo.

now to the two givin me the most trouble,,,, wukong and macaque i didnt think too much abt what visions macaque and wukong would have bc like,, they have a lot of powers that could fit each vision really and i was like "AUGH should wukong be pyro or geo or maybe anemo???" and like "should macaque be cryo maybe but agghh electro could also fit but GAH" could they be like,, adepti maybe?? m not sure,, im thinkin adepti with no like specified element but aaauuggh or maybe its a traveler sort of deal with like all the elements but i like the adeptus thing a bit more- then again uhh genshin lore,,,,, yeah i can not keep up with all of it</3 so if it makes no sense it makes no sense,, y'all might have 2 catch me up if somehow they wouldnt b able to be adepti but i still wanna keep somethin similar to monkey king's whole story n whatnot,,

last thing uh,, mk part adeptus or at least starting to match adeptal power now that hes got the staff and monkey king powers?? not sure again genshin lore is,, tricky and then that plus the geo vision

wellll thats all i gots for now,, if i come up with more ill post it, but for nows this is the basis again feel free ta add or share thoughts cause this is very unfinished and like one of those things u think of and throw into ur notes at like 5am and i somehow put no thought and a ton of thought into it at the same time<//3 OK THANKS 4 LISTENING TO MY DUMB MONKEY PLUS GENSHIN THINGY

[asleepinawell]

Shoot in elden ring? Opinions on class/builds?

oh man. hmmm. it's tough when I've only played through with one build and am just starting on a second one but I can pull from knowledge of previous games I guess.

the one thing that's tough here is that I feel elden ring more than previous games really forces you to commit to a build and weapon/spell set more due to the balance issues near the end of the game and that in general it's easier to fall into maxing out damage from one stat rather than trying an interesting hybrid build. which makes it tough because both root and shaw are really flexible in terms of abilities. part of what makes them so efficient is their ability to improvise and work with any tools. so I'll give you what I think makes sense in terms of how they operate even if they might not be the most efficient or successful builds in game to play with

shaw: primarily a melee build but has a bow for sniper opportunities. I'd see her as having enough points in str and dex both to be able to wield some of the fancier hybrid weapons, but I think she'd favor dex. shaw is usually much smaller than her opponents in the show and her fighting style works to quickly disable/stun/take down people rather than relying on brute strength...but she does also like shooting people with big guns haha. overall shaw is strategic and stealthy when needed which also works with the dex build. she probably has some points in faith at well, enough to do some basic healing for herself and others. I kind of like the idea of her having some points in arcane because it increases discovery if you think of shaw as being observant and resourceful it kinda tracks...not too sure it's practical for the build though. despite all of that, no, shaw would not use the infamous rivers of blood because she is Too Cool. also think she'd use craftable items heavily.

armor set: black knife armor

weapons: I haven't inspected the full range of dex weapons enough but maybe the black knife to go with her armor. just go full tiche.

spirit ash: lone wolf ashes

root: she has like nine rivers of blood under her goth cloak and trolls people in pvp with them. she could destroy people with the most basic starting sword but she finds it funnier to use rivers of blood and moonveil because she's just an asshole like that. for build though, int/dex hybrid build. root has always struck me as a rogue and is definitely into the fancier more complex melee weapons and finding unique uses for weapon art skills. but she also uses sorcery. my lore knowledge on the source of sorcery is limited (despite having played an int build 😩) but I think a lot of it came from the stars and primeval...thingies...and maybe you can make some parallel about her deriving her power from a higher entity with the machine or something? sure. anyway she can absolutely cast the fuck off laser beam when needed but she relies more on situational spells, like exploiting the firing delay on magic glintblade, night comet and ambush shard, putting frostbite on enemies, doing magic stealth (wish they had an illusion spell for her), etc. root also has the bastard's stars flail because of course she does.

armor set: she has all of them of course and wears the mushroom one to piss off shaw. prefers one of the gother ones usually maybe like alberich or fia's set, but also rocks the rotten gravekeeper cloak to fuck with shaw.

weapons: root shows up to the team meeting three days late dual wielding moonveil and rivers of blood. when not being an asshole she prefers a smaller set of dex weapons with bleed damage and a staff...maybe the prince of death's staff for The Aesthetic even if it's not the best fit for her build

spirt ash: mimic tear obviously

also you didn't ask but john is a pure str build. he has 0 points in int or faith. he dumped them all in str and maybe a few in endurance. he's never heard of a shield or dodging he's dual wielding 2 handers and running straight into battle. is he screaming due to the joy of battle? or because he's on fire? yes.

thank you, anon, for allowing me to be a huge nerd

[alittlebitmaybe]

tying you to me

For @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo

Prompt: crafting

Pairing: Geraskier, implied Geralt/Yen in one line

Rating: T for language

Warnings: None

Summary:

As they lay in bed, Jaskier snuggled and breathing humid against his chest hair, Geralt remembers the pattern from Novigrad. A sweater with stretchy ribbing around the wrists and bottom hemline, a high collar. Intricate cabling criss-crossing up the front, making the fabric thick and sturdy. The scroll is stuffed into one of his saddlebags where he’d put it after purchase when he’d cursed himself for wasting the coin.

Jaskier snuffles closer, his grip tightening around Geralt’s waist as he soaks the added warmth through his skin, and Geralt has an idea.

Or: Geralt doesn't know about the boyfriend sweater curse.

Read more on AO3 or below the cut!

Geralt learned to knit out of necessity. Winters in Kaedwen, especially up in the mountains, are bitter cold, and require not only animal skins but woolen socks, hats, scarves, blankets. They keep a flock of sheep for the very purpose. And before—when there were others, even occasionally a proper staff—it would be part of the normal workings of the castle to have several sets of hands dedicated to knitting up useful garments to keep them from freezing their balls off when the frost came.

There are fewer hands now, but also fewer balls in danger of freezing. Geralt and Vesemir handle the bulk of it, these days—Eskel with fingers too big and clumsy to be much help, Lambert too fidgety and quick to rip out all his progress into a tangled mess of wool in a fit of frustration. In the evenings they sit by the great hall fire in mostly silence and take turns spinning the roving into yarn, winding skeins, chipping away at the endless miles of plain stocking stitch, and seaming panels together. (Sometimes Geralt will embellish the design with cables, or a moss stitch—unconventional patterns he’s started to see in the larger cities, sold by the fancier merchants. He may have paid a few crowns for the scroll describing the pattern for one particular sweater he saw in a shop in Novigrad. He has not mentioned this to Vesemir.)

It may be necessity, but Geralt would choose it even if it wasn’t. These are the things his hands are good for: wielding a sword; harvesting various glands and organs; curling into fists; crushing windpipes; skinning rabbits. Bandaging Ciri’s scrapes. Bringing Yen’s pleasure. Curling around the back of Jaskier’s neck, drawing their lips together. And, when it’s over, when there’s nothing to kill and no one to care for, he can create. He can put it all to the side and count off to himself, knit-purl, knit-purl, knit-purl, knit, knit, knit, around and around, back and forth, and this thing will grow from the rhythm of his fingers, from the steady loop and pull that he’s done thousands of times, taught by some witcher instructor decades ago whose name he no longer recalls. He had bushy eyebrows that waggled as he worked. That’s all the memory that’s left of him.

Anyway, it’s easy to allow the hours to pass until Vesemir excuses himself to bed and the fire burns down and takes the light with it. One such night, just as Geralt is squinting at his work to finish this one last row, the hall door creaks open.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says sleepily, “are you still in here? ‘S late, love.”

Knit, knit, knit. “Mm,” says Geralt. “I’m here. Just finishing up.”

“I’ll wait for you, then.” Jaskier pads in his sockfeet across the stone to the armchair Geralt occupies. He sits himself on the rug with his back against Geralt’s legs, knees pulled up to his chest. “Brr. ‘S chilly, too.”

Geralt drops the needle in his right hand, maintaining tension on the working yarn with his left. He runs his free hand through Jaskier’s bed-mussed hair, brushes against his cold ear, down to the soft skin behind it. “Not wearing a coat.”

“Well I wasn’t heading outside, seemed like a—” He yawns, jaw cracking. “—a lot of trouble just to come downstairs. But I now see my mistake.”

“Always have to wear a coat at night,” Geralt says. “Or be under blankets. Or both.”

“Or acquire a personal witcher furnace, unless he’s down here ‘til gods know what hour making yet more mittens for the princess.”

Geralt looks down at the large rectangle he’s been working on. “Lap blanket,” he says. For Ciri, when she’s studying in the library. It gets drafty in there even with the fire blazing.

“For the library?” says Jaskier, tipping his head back to see Geralt. “Good thinking. She’ll love it.”

Geralt releases him and goes back to his work, but knits at most ten stitches before Jaskier shivers again, his teeth chattering before he gets himself under control. Setting the blanket aside, middle of the row be damned, he concedes, “Let’s go back to bed.”

“No, you’re—you’re not done with—” Jaskier cannot finish his sentence for the yawn that overtakes him. “M’kay. Let’s go.”

As they lay in bed, Jaskier snuggled and breathing humid against his chest hair, Geralt remembers the pattern from Novigrad. A sweater with stretchy ribbing around the wrists and bottom hemline, a high collar. Intricate cabling criss-crossing up the front, making the fabric thick and sturdy. The scroll is stuffed into one of his saddlebags where he’d put it after purchase when he’d cursed himself for wasting the coin.

Jaskier snuffles closer, his grip tightening around Geralt’s waist as he soaks the added warmth through his skin, and Geralt has an idea.

*

The next evening, after dinner has been consumed and cleaned up, Vesemir and Geralt move to the fire as usual. Vesemir is working up a new hat for Lambert, who has the shortest hair among them and has one practically pasted to his head all winter long.

Geralt spares a glance to his blanket-in-progress, and then veers toward the wooden chest that stores their yarn stash. He puts aside plain ball after plain ball, until finally he admits defeat and turns to Vesemir and asks, “Do we have any dye?”

“No,” says Vesemir, not looking up. He knits with the yarn looped around the back of his neck to keep the tension, instead of around his fingers. He says it’s easier on his old joints. Geralt thinks it looks preposterous, but it gets the job done. “Not a drop. And that’s never bothered you before.”

“I’m thinking of making a gift,” says Geralt. “I think they’d prefer it to be dyed.”

“Ah, the bard. Yes. I suppose he would.”

“I want him to actually wear it.”

“Indeed.”

“He says coats are too bulky and ponderous, and they dampen his spirits.”

“Foolish boy. He’ll learn.”

“So we have no dye? Of any color?”

“None,” says Vesemir. “Though it may be that there are some old skeins in the back of the cupboard by the linens. I recall that some of our forebears had rather expensive taste, for witchers. Quite wasteful of them. If you ask me.”

Geralt murmurs his thanks, pulls on a cloak, and makes his way through the frozen corridors to the cabinet in the laundry. Along the way he passes the study, and overhears Eskel dominating Jaskier in another round of Gwent.

“Eskel, you dirty cheating bastard, there is no way you just had that card.”

“Where d’you think I kept it, bard?”

“Up your sleeve, behind your ear, under the table, I dunno—”

“Down your pants,” Lambert chimes in, and Geralt hears Ciri giggle. She’s been spending too much time with the witchers now that Yen has departed for the season. Geralt should probably intervene more often.

“—maybe you magicked me with a sign thingy so I wouldn’t notice, but I’m sure you didn’t have it in hand a turn ago, I’ll swear that on—”

“Yes, Lambert, I’ve got Gwent cards lining my codpiece, naturally, even a few stuffed between my—”

Geralt rounds the corner and their voices fade away.

As Vesemir said, there is a small box pushed all the way to the back of the cupboard in amongst the linens. He opens it without much hope, but is surprised to find it full to the brim with yarn of deep reds and blues, all of some soft texture very unlike the itchy wool they’re accustomed to. Sniffing it, he decides it is from some type of goat. He also decides, based on its lack of musty odor, that it is not nearly old enough to have belonged to one of their forebears.

Well, in exchange for the use of the yarn, he’ll allow Vesemir his secret.

He carries the whole lot back to the great hall.

“You found it,” Vesemir remarks, now nearly done with the hat.

“Right where you said,” says Geralt. “You don’t mind if I use it?”

“As much as you like,” he replies disinterestedly, “if you’ll leave me the fuck alone while you do.”

Fair enough.

Geralt selects the red—a deep burgundy that will pair with the blush on Jaskier’s cheeks after a few glasses of wine. He pulls the scroll from his trouser pocket, and begins casting on as the pattern instructs.

*

When he hears Jaskier’s tread in the hall, he hastily pulls the half-finished lap blanket over his new project.

“Bedtime, Witcher,” says Jaskier, peering over his shoulder. “Didn’t make much progress on that tonight, did you?”

“It’s a big blanket,” Geralt grunts. “Eskel’s been practicing sleight of hand since we were boys. Don’t play him for money.”

“I bloody knew it,” Jaskier exclaims. He wheels around and stomps back out of the hall, suitably distracted. “Eskel! You’ll never believe what Geralt’s just told me!”

*

The sweater is slow going, since he does have to put real work into the blanket every once in a while to keep Jaskier’s suspicions to heel.

Over the next few weeks, it becomes near an open secret in the keep what Geralt is up to. Lambert catches him cursing late one evening as he is ripping back several rows to fix a cable he’d mistakenly crossed the wrong way.

“Whazzat,” Lambert says, crunching on a mouthful of tree nuts.

“Fuck off,” Geralt says. He squints and carefully tries to secure a dropped loop back on the needle. If it ladders down, he’s done for—there’ll be no fixing it while maintaining the pattern. He’s not nearly good enough for that.

“Looks like you’re fucking it up,” Lambert chews.

“I am. That’s why I told you to fuck off.”

“Thought that’s just how you decided to greet me now. That’s what Vesemir does.” He shoves another fistful of nuts into his mouth, though Geralt isn’t sure he’s swallowed the first.

“It’s not a bad idea.”

He manages to pick up that last loop before disaster strikes, and moves the stitches around on the needles to make sure they all look right. Then he shoves the left-hand stitches all the way up to the tip so he can continue.

Lambert leans down to examine the fabric, then runs his finger down the pattern with his eyebrow raised. “This is some fancy shit, Geralt, you giant poof.”

“It’s not for me,” he says.

Lambert swallows, belches, and says, “My point exactly. ‘S for Jaskier, innit.”

Geralt doesn’t bother answering as he approaches the cable he’d made a mess of the first time around. Lambert claps him on the shoulder with the hand he’s been using as a nut-to-mouth delivery tool, which leaves salt behind on his tunic.

“That’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks,” says Geralt wryly.

“Anyway, I’m outta here. This boring bullshit still gives me hives.”

He exits the hall and the door shuts heavily behind him. Geralt finishes recrossing the cable and, turning to check his pattern, finds it covered in greasy fingerprints.

Eskel, on the other hand, sits himself in Vesemir’s usual seat one night and sets to quietly whittling a whistle. After several hours, Geralt holds up the near completed front panel of his sweater and says, “Do you think Jaskier will like this?”

Eskel doesn’t even look at it. “Geralt, you could spit on a log and hand it to him and Jaskier would love it.” His knife stills. “Maybe don’t do that, though.”

To their credit, none of the other witchers say a word—possibly for lack of caring—and Geralt is able to rely on them to keep Jaskier occupied most nights while he finishes the front and back panels and seams them up.

Before he begins work on the sleeves, the pattern warns, the wearer should try on the body to ensure proper fit.

“Well, shit,” he says aloud. He can’t ask Jaskier to try it on and ruin the surprise. He holds it up against himself, trying to judge if they are similar enough size to judge whether it will fit Jaskier. Geralt, certainly, is wider in the chest and shoulders, but as long as he can get it on without stretching it too much he should be able to check the length. And, if it fits Geralt or is loose, it will certainly be too large on Jaskier.

It will have to do.

The next morning he rises early and takes the sack in which he’s been storing his project to Ciri’s bedroom. He knocks softly.

“Ciri?” he calls, mouth close to the door. “Can I use your mirror for a moment?”

“Mnnngh,” he hears. He takes this as an invitation.

The only visible part of her, when he lets himself in, is a tangle of hair escaping from under the pile of furs on the bed. He sets his sack delicately in front of the only full-length mirror in the keep and says, “Morning, Princess.”

“F’ off,” the fur pile groans. “No it’s not.”

“You really have been spending too much time with Lambert,” Geralt comments mildly as he pulls the unfinished sweater out and checks it for damage in transport, though he knows it was safe in the bag and only traveled up some stairs. “He’s a bad influence.”

“I’ve always been like this when rudely awakened at the crack of dawn,” Ciri says, muffled. “Don’t think any of you are special.”

“You cursed at the royal servants?”

“Quite regularly.”

Geralt shrugs the layers off his top half down to his undershirt while she continues to stretch and grumble wordlessly in the warmth of her bed. He pulls the sweater over his head; the neckline snags on his ears but otherwise he should be okay to try to get his arms in. He squeezes his right arm in and up, aiming for the proper hole—

“Geralt,” Ciri says icily, “what, by the gods, is that?”

He turns around, contorted in the confines of the too-tight sweater. She’s sitting up with her hair a wild tangle and her eyes wide in horror. “What’s what?”

“That garment!”

“It’s…a sweater? I’m making it.”

Geralt thinks he may be missing something very important.

“For yourself?”

“…No, for Jaskier. He needs another—”

“Don’t you care about the curse?”

Geralt finishes fitting himself into the sweater and tugs it down over his stomach while Ciri continues to stare at him in expectant horror. Thus no longer trapped, he decides to engage. “The what?”

Ciri slumps forward, briefly puts her face in her hands. “Good gods, Geralt, you really can’t be helped. But I also cannot allow you to give Jaskier a handmade sweater. Despite your…personal challenges”—at this, Geralt tilts his head and opens his mouth to ask exactly what the hell that means, but she barrels on—“I really have become fond of the two of you, so I cannot let you carry on with this foolish nonsense.”

Her voice goes more posh the longer speaks. Geralt thinks she will make a fine queen someday. “Ciri, I—”

“And really,” she continues, “it’s like you’re trying to sabotage a good thing. He does nothing but care for you, and this is how you repay him? Honestly. Melitele’s tits!”

“Melitele’s—? Where did you learn that one?”

“I’m hardly sheltered. And you’re one to talk, caring about my language when you’re about to lose Jaskier for good!”

“For good? Lose Jask—okay, Ciri.” He sits down at the foot of her bed, probably looking downright silly confined to a sleeveless sweater that is at least one size too small for him. He can feel it constricting the rise and fall of his chest and stretching tight in his armpits. “Look, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. What curse?”

The expression she aims at him is sharper than at least four of the blades in the armory. “The sweater curse, Geralt. If one makes a sweater for a person one is interested in romantically, that person leaves within a fortnight. Everyone knows this.”

“Oh, of course. How stupid of me,” Geralt says.

Ciri raises an eyebrow that says Yes, obviously.

“So you’re telling me that if I finish this sweater and give it to Jaskier, he will suddenly no longer be able to stand the sight of me and will stomp off on down the mountain, even with the good foot of snow and ice blocking the path.”

She sniffs. “Indubitably.”

“Hmm,” says Geralt. “I think I’ll take my chances.” He claps his hands on his knees as he stands and moves back to the mirror to inspect the sizing more closely. The armholes are definitely a bit small—he’ll have to let out the seam to increase the circumference—but the rest, if he tries to overlay Jaskier’s body onto his own, seems like it should be about right.

Ciri leaves the bed with a fur wrapped around her as a cape and comes to his side. “You’re impossible,” she declares, though the royal snootiness is diminished somewhat by her morning breath and tangled hair. Then she reaches out and touches the textured pattern between the cable running up the front. “Though, you know, it is quite beautiful, if horribly misguided.”

He grins indulgently at her. “Thank you, Princess.”

*

“Have you heard of the sweater curse?”

Vesemir snorts. “Poppycock. Who told you about that old superstition?”

“Just came across it.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Vesemir looks at Geralt over his spectacles. “I hope that it’s not bothering you.”

“No,” says Geralt. “Of course not.”

*

He has fuck-all in his hand of cards, but he stares down at them like they might contain the secrets of the Continent.

“It’s your turn, Geralt,” Eskel says.

“I know,” he replies, absently rearranging the cards.

“So…you gonna play or pass?” Lambert asks. He digs his hand into the bowl of nuts at his elbow.

“Not sure.”

“Is something on your mind?” Eskel, again.

“No. Well…do either of you believe in the sweater curse?”

They both look at him blankly.

“Nuh uh,” says Lambert with his mouth full.

Geralt says, “Pass.”

*

He speaks clearly into the xenovox. “Yen? Are you there?”

“Geralt?” comes the reply, as if she were beside him in the room. “Is Ciri all right?”

“We’re all fine. It’s good to hear from you, too.”

“If there’s no trouble, then make it quick.”

Now he hesitates, but he chokes the question out anyway. “Do you know about the sweater curse?”

There is silence.

“Yen?”

“For the love of the gods, Geralt, please don’t bother me with frivolous garbage. I’m much too busy. Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all,” Geralt says, suitably shamed.

*

The finished, washed, and blocked sweater rests folded at the bottom of his wardrobe for more than a week before he works up the nerve to bring it down to dinner with him in his knitting sack.

Even with the flaws that Geralt, as the creator, inevitably notices—a few loose stitches three quarters down the back panel, the right sleeve is slightly longer than the left—he has to admit that it turned out well. He could fetch a pretty penny for it in a large city. Silky soft, thick, and vivid burgundy, it would be a stand-out piece among any merchant’s wares even without the detailing that stretches collar to hem and even down the outside of the arms.

Knitting it was a nightmare. He will never do anything like it ever again, so Jaskier had better appreciate this one.

Still, every time he resolves to finally gift it, Ciri’s words echo in the back of his mind. You’re about to lose Jaskier for good.

On the ninth day, he shushes that voice, takes the sack, and marches straight into the hall for dinner. After all, if Yen and Vesemir aren’t worried, then he shouldn’t be either.

Everyone but Jaskier is there already. Eskel looks up from pouring ale into each mug and says, “Hullo, Geralt. What do you have there?” and Lambert says, “Ooh, didja finish it?” and Vesemir digs wordlessly into his mutton.

Ciri’s eyes zero in on the sack.

“Hello,” says Geralt. “Is Jaskier still washing up?”

“Yeah,” says Lambert. “He fell in a pile of snow.”

“Lambert pushed him into a pile of snow,” Eskel amends.

Geralt glares at the accused, setting the sack on the bench at his usual spot.

“He asked for it. Bloody said ‘Lambert, throw me into that snow over there!’ didn’t he?”

“Since you were alone with him at the time, I don’t think I can confirm or deny—”

“Geralt,” Ciri interrupts, “tell me you’re not still planning what you said.”

“I am,” he tells her.

“You were standing not ten feet away.”

“My back was turned—”

“You’re a godsdamned witcher! Or have you gone deaf?”

“Even after what I told you! I thought you were going to think about it!” Ciri pushes back from the table. “I forbid you from giving that to him.”

Geralt snorts. “Or what, Princess? Look, I don’t think Jaskier is planning to leave—”

“Of course he’s not planning to, the curse will make him! Why are you tempting destiny this way?”

“I’m just saying, Lambert, that it wouldn’t be out of your character to shove an unsuspecting bard into a snowbank.”

“Oh, and hustling him at Gwent wasn’t out of your character, so maybe you’re actually the one who shoved him. Thought about that one, Eskel?”

Geralt says, “If he tries to leave, I’ll tie him to the bed until the urge passes.”

She wrinkles her nose in disgust, but then moves past that comment. “At least let me give it to him. I’ll say I brought it from Cintra, or bought it on the way here.”

“And let my hard work go unacknowledged? I don’t think so. And why would you have bought a man’s sweater?”

Among the arguments, no one notices Jaskier enter the hall and come up behind Vesemir, wide eyed. “What did I miss?” he stage whispers.

“Just open your present, bard,” Vesemir mutters, gesturing to the sack at Geralt’s knee.

“Ooh, a present? For little old me?”

He picks up the sack and tests the weight curiously, before opening it and drawing out the most marvelous sweater he has ever seen.

“Jaskier, no!” Ciri cries, and everyone else falls quiet.

“What, why?” he says, looking between Ciri’s stricken face and the furrow between Geralt’s brows. “What is this?”

“It’s for you,” Geralt murmurs. “I made it.”

“You made it?” he repeats dumbly.

“Yes. For you. Because you were…cold.”

“Because I was cold?”

Geralt gently takes it from him and holds it up so he can see the full design. “That night, you came in when I was knitting, and you were cold. I wanted to make you something warm to wear that you would like.”

Jaskier squishes the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do you,” says Geralt, “like it?”

“It’s stunning,” Jaskier breathes. Geralt may as well have hit him over the head with a hammer.

“I cannot believe you, Geralt of Rivia,” Ciri cuts in. “You never listen to anyone. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” With that, she turns on her heel and leaves the hall.

Geralt grimaces. “Do you, er, have any particular desire to leave me?”

“Leave you? Why would I—Geralt, is this a breakup gift? Is it pity?” He panics, pushing the sweater back into Geralt’s hands. “I don’t want your gorgeous pity breakup sweater, Geralt. I’ve played that game before.”

Geralt steadies him, as ever. “No, it’s—Ciri thinks there’s a curse, or something. And that if I made you a sweater, you would leave.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier. “Well, I assure you I will not. And in that case I do want the sweater.” He shucks off his coat right there at the table and pulls the sweater on over his tunic. “There!” He spreads his hands wide. “How does it look?”

The smile Geralt gives him is answer enough. “Perfect,” he says. “You look perfect.”

“Not bad, bard,” Eskel says.

Lambert shoots him a thumbs up. Vesemir does not appear to be paying attention.

Jaskier leans in and kisses Geralt on the lips. “Thank you very much,” he whispers. “I adore it and promise to thank you more appropriately later tonight. For now, shall I go after Ciri?”

“That may be best,” Geralt says. “I don’t think she likes me much right now.”

“My pleasure. Say,” he says louder, “while I’m gone, don’t let my food get cold.” He opens the door and barely feels the usual chill of the drafty hallways at all. Over his shoulder, he adds, “You can get Lambert to tell you all how he threw me in a snow pile today! It was great fun!”

“I told you—” he hears, but then the door closes behind him.

[tortilla-of-courage]

oh. thanks to your sky-jesus thingy, I remembered my first headcanon. I hope you don't mind if I describe it?

I got it when I just started playing Zelda and knew from wiki that three triangles play an important role in it. but when I started playing, I saw only crosses (and then the Bible also improved my staff??) and there was... I don't even know, was I confused?

but then, after playing something other than the first two zelda, I saw that the religious thing in zelda were not a cross at all, but triangles and a bird. since I already knew this along with the timeline, I just thought, "Oh, well, someone must have been crucified after Triforce Heros and before the first Zelda"

my headcanon is that somewhere before the first zelda, something happened, ganon appeared and the hero who was supposed to defeat him. but he didn't succeed. ganon, wanting to show everyone the losing hero, crucifies the hero on the cross (at first I thought it would be something like loftwing ascending into the sky, but it sounds too light. the idea with a cross-sword sounds better) in front of people, on which the hero breathed his last breath.

due to the fact that ganon had already persecuted everyone who uses the triforce and the bird as something religious or as a coat of arms, and some even began to pray to ganon, people began to use the cross as a sign of their religion. maybe something like the fish of Jesus, but when one puts a line, and the other completes it to understand that the interlocutor still has faith.

the idea that the sky's diary is a Bible sounds cool, but then I realized that in the game itself (or even the games?) The Bible improves the magical abilities of the staff, and I doubt that there would be anything related to fire and staffs in the sky's diary, so this will not work with my headcanon.

ouch... somehow a lot came out.

oh this is a really cool take on it??? i like it

[sabriel-writes]

spinning arts bfs and sea hawk (because I couldn’t draw fire and... and not draw sea hawk). 

here’s my original post. also cut bc i like to ramble about art

oof can you tell that I was at the end of a three-hours-art-sprint-I-woke-up-too-early-today when i started bow’s drawing bc........

Explanations one by one.

1) Couldn’t get the image of Catra spinning kittyslicer out of my head... yes the name is thematic but also she HAS the coordination. She’s barefoot and NOT wearing cotton she is being UNSAFE. WHILE ON FIRE. UNSAFE. It’s ok because... she IS that good. Pose is kinda stiff and awkward but damn I actually like the lighting. 

2) Adora does a one handed cartwheel with a dragon staff... in skinny jeans; good for her!! she IS being safe bc otherwise she’d probably have burns. chaos. also someone let her hold a fire sword. Is this a good idea? idk. // Adora’s a bit of a pyro (#relatable) and also she gets a cute haircut. 

3) Glimmer is spinning a glow prop, i.e., no fire, i.e., she doesn’t have to wear any fire safe clothes when she spins. by the way she can totally spin fire props she just likes performing with the glow ones. Art-wise I was so excited about that rainbow glow thingy :D 

4) Bow’s doing a move that’s supposed to imitate an archer firing an arrow so that’s pretty on brand. Yes, I know, he’s not wearing a crop top! it’s because he’s being responsible and not exposing his abs to the fire. sometimes he spins glow props so that he can wear a crop top. also he and glimmer have a super cute doubles glow routine. 

5) fire breathin’. yeah i didn’t color it w/e i was tired also I forgot to draw fire on the little torch he’s holding... it be like that. Bow is being his safety because Bow is a fan. (And because everyone needs a safety.) Bow does a lot of safetying because Catra and Adora aren’t allowed to safety for each other and Glimmer likes to get out of safetying by spinning glow props at performances. 

6) here’s all my sketches yeet insight into my Process idk i thought it was fun 

7) zoomed-in tiny pyro adora 

[kocuces-blog]

Knight Online - No CheatsKnight Online - No Cheats

Least Requirement

 Working System Windows 98/2000/XP/ME

 kocuce

 Computer processor Celeron 300

 Memory 128 MB

 Hard Disk Space 400MB

 Video Card 16MB or above 3D Display Cards with DirectX uphold

 Extra Software DirectX 8.1 or Above

 "At the outset there was bedlam. Ageless energies whirled in an extraordinary mass of shading and light in the soundlessness of room. Throughout the long term the energies acquired substance and started to mesh itself into the texture of what might one day spell life.

 Out of this texture a string, an inconsequential piece of force unraveled itself from the mass. While the substance of this string was very much the same as the energies which at the exact instant were advancing, it changed along a different way. It alone acquired cognizance."

 Knight Online is set in a bygone era of orcs, savages, and primates? At any rate, it is set in a universe of enchantment. There is the acceptable nation, called Elmorad and the abhorrent nation, Karus. Similar names are for the races.

 The Humans, the Elmorad, have a pick of three classes which are: Barbarian, Male El Moradian, Female El Moradian.

 The savage is the most grounded class, on the off chance that you are a brute you must be a hero, and you must be male for reasons unknown. The El Moradian can be whatever other classes, which are Warrior, Magician, Priest, And Rogue and can be either Male or Female.

 The Orc thingys, also called Karus ingame. They all have peculiar and brilliant names so I will simply allude to them as there callings since that will be simpler for individuals to comprehend. Right off the bat, there is the Aarch Tuarek, which is essentially the Karus savage, in that it must be a Warrior. Tuarek can be either a Priest or a Rogue. Wrinkle Tuarek is the Karus Magician. At long last, the lone female of the Karus is Puri Tuarek, which must be a Priest.

 Each new part in Knight Online picks one occupation toward the beginning of there venture, yet at level 10 you would then be able to additional your occupation. Like most MMORPG, there are a few occupations to browse, there are four for each race and they are alluded to contrastingly in each race. Every one of the occupations has it's own extraordinary abilities.

 Champion - Elmorad/Karus - 'Sharp edge'/'Berserker' - Their job is to battle hand to hand and protect the others with a couple of buffs.

 Maverick - Elmorad/Karus - 'Tracker/Ranger' - Their job is to assault from a good ways or to utilize covertness, likewise they can buff.

 Entertainer - Elmorad/Karus - 'Mage/Sorcerer' - Their job is to utilize wizardry to do a large portion of the harm or to back foes off.

 Minister - Elmorad/Karus - 'Priest/Shaman' - Their job is to recuperate the gathering, and revile adversaries, additionally they can fix ailment and condemnations.

 Each time somebody step up they get 3 capacity focuses, which can be placed into classes that influence your character.

 Strength is mostly for champions, however ministers need it to, so they can utilize better weapons.

 Wellbeing is for everybody truly, except works best on heroes and mavericks since they get added MP (wizardry power).

 Expertise is for rebels, it influences the assault achievement rate and assault power.

 Insight influences the MP for clerics and performers.

 Enchantment Power decides the assault power for performers abilities.

 There are additionally normal abilities ingame, generally they are clear as crystal like the others, they are:

 Order - Adds to the order capacity in a military

 Governmental issues - It is conceivable to rehearse legislative issues in a country

 Attack Weapons - Lets the player use attack weapons

 Language - Lets the player decipher the contrary races language.

 Weapons

 There are a wide range of kinds of weapons, to numerous to specify here and mixes that can be utilized in Knight Online, for instance purposes I will utilize blades. Players can utilize a one gave blade and shield, two one gave swords, a two gave sword. But, there are likewise tomahawks, maces and lances (well one gave lances, at that point shaft arms). They are the hand to hand weapons. Likewise, there are different classes weapons, like knife, bow, staff, minister mace and shield (like I said previously). Blades and bows are utilized by mavericks, contingent upon the sort of rebel you wish to be. Staffs are utilized by performers, and minister maces are utilized by, you got it, clerics.

 Defensive layer

 Like the weapons in Knight Online, there are to numerous to specify here so all things being equal I will simply discuss the various sorts of reinforcement, there is protection for every one of the races, which has various prerequisites, likewise unique durability's.

 Remarkable Items

 Every one of the one of a kind things, like studs, neckbands, pendant, ornament, ring, belt, have various capacities on them, some add to strength, wellbeing, and insight. Others add to certain wizardry types or add to the protection of the player.

 Sundries

 These are the mixtures to recuperate HP, MP, reviles, updates, and journey things. I'm almost certain remembered for here ought to be the things that can be brought for genuine cash, as that is the way the designers of Knight Online brings in their cash. There are looks to give rewards like twofold exp and so forth

 Redesigns

 Thing redesigning has gotten increasingly more well known in MMORPG, and now it is extremely simple to do in Knight Online. Protective layer and weapons can be overhauled utilizing scrolls which can be gathered from beasts, or brought from different players, a portion of the less solid parchments can be brought from NPCs however.

 There are four kinds of parchments, which are:

 Thing Upgrade Scroll

 This sort of parchment will expand the thing by +1, the harm will go up, as long as the redesign is fruitful. The breaking point is +10 however, and there is a sure disappointment rate.

 Decrease Scroll

 This parchment will lessen the prerequisites of the thing it is utilized on, it must be utilized once, and there is again a specific disappointment rate.

 Natural Scroll

 This one will add a basic property, the sorts of basic harm it can add are: fire, ice, thunder, poison and so forth It additionally has a specific disappointment rate, however it can change a one of a kind thing to an upgradeable thing with a 100% possibility of working.

 Disperse Scroll

 This one will add a natural property to a staff, it will add something like fire or ice, it is 100% too.

 Abilities

 Since there again such countless abilities to make reference to in this audit, I will simply note down the essential abilities to give you the possibility of every one of the callings. For every one of the races there are various abilities, yet since I am simply doing the essential abilities they have similar fundamental spells.

 Fighter Skills

 Run - This speeds up which you run. Level 1

 Slice - This incurs 120% harm to the foe. Level 3

 Crash - This raises the assault rate by x1.5. Level 5

 Protection - Increases the safeguard of the player, briefly. Level 7

 Puncturing - Increases the assault rate by x2. Level 10

 Cleric Skills

 Small Healing - Heal party individuals wellbeing by 15HP. Level 1

 Light Strike - A light sorcery assault. Level 2

 Strength - Increase party individuals strength by 15. Level 4

 Light Healing - Heal party individuals wellbeing by 30HP. Level 5

 Oppose Poison - Increase party individuals poison obstruction by 20. Level 6

 Splendor - A more grounded light wizardry assault. Level 7

 Little Restore - Increase party individuals HP by 50 for 20 seconds. Level 8

 Rebel Skills

 Run - This speeds up which you run. Level 1

 Toxophilism - Shoot bolt. Level 3

 Knife Thrust - Inflict 150% harm with a blade. Level 5

 Quick - Increase party individuals running velocity. Level 10

 Force of Wolf - Increases encompassing gathering individuals assault, Uses Blood of Wolf thing. Level 30

 Entertainer Skills

 Streak - A Magic assault to harm foe. Level 1

 Shudder - Inflicts harm to foe for timeframe. Level 3

 Bring Party Members - Summon party individuals. Level 4

 Fire - Burn a foe. Level 5

 Cold Wave - Attack which lessens an adversary's assault speed. Level 7

 Sparkle - Ignite within adversary's body + scatter wizardry assault. Level 9

 Door - Teleport to respawn territory. Level 15

 Break - Teleport all of gathering to your respawn territory. Level 35

 Missions

 The missions truly help new players, the primary journey all players ought to do is the worm one, you need to gather 5 silk groups from worms, and you ought to get some exp, that is an incredible method to step up, particularly when simply beginning. The vast majority of the journeys are ordinarily RPG missions, where you need to murder something or discover something/somebody to and afterward get back to the individual who gave you the journey or discover another person. They are the most ideal path for new players to step up however, and some are a decent kind of revenue.

 Beasts

 There are numerous beasts in Knight Online, and are found in different areas, they respawn consistently so step up is generally simple. For every one of the beasts there are various types of beasts the further you disappear from the towns, they get a lot more grounded as you go further away, however drop better and give more experience focuses, yet are more earnestly to get to. They range from werewolves to savages to primates. The most fragile is Worms, which are level 1, the most grounded are Dread Mare which can go up to level 175, which is the most elevated level beast ingame at this moment, and that would require extremely undeniable level gathering to overcome it.

 Exchanging

 Exchanging is a major piece of Knight Online for a great deal of players, it is the means by which a few players make the entirety of their cash. There are two different ways to exchange, there is the customary way were you are exchanging with just a single individual. Despite the fact that, Knight Online is certainly not a customary RPG truly, so they incorporated a bartering kind of exchanging, so you can see different people groups things they need to see, just a single individual can see another people closeout at a time though.

 Occasions

 Lunar Gate War

 This is a huge PvP occasion were you need to assault different countries base and murder all the NPCs in there base. You must be level 30 to enter this occasion, and just the initial 120 players who transport to Lunar Valley at the workers occasion times. All the occasions are GMT-8. On the off chance that you win, as a country, you will assault different countries old neighborhood.

[gaslightgallows]

First lines meme thingie

I got tagged by @teadrinkingwolfgirl! 

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics read or written and then tag others to do the same.

I haven’t read anyone else’s fics in ages (mea culpa) so I’m really doing this to remind myself of what WIPs I’m supposed to be working on. XD

Tagging! @firesign23, @rivendellrose, @cigaretteburnslikefairylights, @pendragyn, @kiwimeringue, @timetravelbypen and anyone else who’d like to play!

The Patience of Angels (Good Omens)

“Right,” shouted Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies and Prince of the First Circle of Hell, “shut up, you lot!”

The rabble quieted down, but not without trouble – Hastur had to set a few unruly demons on fire before Beelzebub could finally make themself heard without screaming. They settled into the chair at the head of the long, long table, with Hastur at one elbow and Dagon at the other, and surveyed the assembled with resigned disgust (which was the most neutral emotion Beelzebub could summon).

Every demon with any scrap of authority was there, every prince and duke and a bunch of other ranks besides, by Satan's own order. Except for Satan himself, of course. He hadn’t been to a board meeting in a year, which wasn’t like him – he usually at least came to the once-a-year all-staff meetings. But the boss was still sulking and licking his wounds after that business in Tadfield. Beelzebub supposed he had the right to sulk; after all, six thousand years of planning had been flushed straight down the toilet, all because of one disobedient brat.

There was something marvelously poetic in that, somewhere, but Lord Beelzebub did not possess a poet’s soul. (Though they had possessed a few poets, over the centuries, but they hadn’t picked up much in the way of insight.)

Sideways (MCU, Stoki)

Loki was not expecting to see Captain Rogers again – vastly preferred not to see him again, in fact, along with the rest of the Avengers – and when he did, the first thing he thought was that wasn’t sure about the new beard.

Thankfully, Captain Rogers couldn’t see him, so he didn’t have to concern himself with the captain’s feelings on the matter.

In theory, the less Loki had to see or hear or be aware of Earth, the better. In practice, he'd learned enough about humans to realize that it was at least prudent to keep tabs on Midgard and its infuriatingly stubborn inhabitants. Unlike Odin (not quite late, not quite lamented, safely and comfortably sequestered away in the most inconvenient corner of the palace dungeons), Loki did not have the ability to see and hear all things within the Nine Realms, so he’d had to take the Gatekeeper into his confidence.

Heimdall was... he wasn’t entirely sure what Heimdall’s opinion on the matter of Loki pretending to be Odin was. He recalled the first time he took the throne—

‘Took.’ It was given to me, justly, by Asgard’s own laws of succession and by order of... the queen.

—when Heimdall obeyed his commands up until the moment Loki relieved him of his duties. He knew better than to make the same mistake twice; Heimdall had guarded the Bifrost for longer than Loki had been alive, and he’d learned a thing or two about the watcher’s loyalties. With the true king alive but incapacitated and Thor having abjured the title, who was there left to be king, save Loki?

And it clearly didn’t matter to Heimdall that Loki was technically supposed to be dead.

Upon the Mountains, Like a Flame: Chapter 10 (MCU)

"Are you truly going to prevent Loki from using his magic to defend himself?"

"I have said that I will. It is the only possible way of ensuring a fair fight, especially if Loki and Sigyn are to face Theoric together. Unless you wish to make it that easy for Loki to defeat him. His power has grown--"

"No," said Frigga, "he hasn't." She sounded tired. "He had help. From whom or who, I know not, but I do know the scope of our son's power."

Odin stopped his disgruntled pacing and turned to face her, and suddenly Frigga felt very cold. "Are you certain? We have never been entirely sure what manner of power to expect from one of his... lineage."

"If Loki had learned by nature how to shield his appearance and his identity from us both, he would have used it – and crowed about it – long before now. As it is, he can transform himself into any number of animals in order to bedevil his brother, but we always know it is him. And before you ask again," she continued, "no, Sigyn did not help him. This manner of magic does not belong to her."

Odin conceded that point, at least. "Sigyn's preference would have been to slip away from Asgard between dawn and morning and never look back. And you would not have been able to find her, I think, any more than I would have. And yet... she stayed."

"For Loki."

"For love of him," Odin sighed, feeling old, as he had when Loki had pleaded for Sigyn's hand in marriage. "They make a frightening pair, those two.

The Art of Weaving (Sequel to “The Art of Spinning”) (MCU)

“He lacks compassion.”

“Lacks...” Thor stopped dead in his tracks. “Father, he spent a month caring for Mother and wouldn’t leave her side even when I wanted him to come to Svartalfheim with me. He helped me free Jane from the Aether and find a way to defeat Malekith that saved the last of the Dark Elves from slaughter, when you and I would have gladly let them all die.”

“And what has been the result of those good deeds? A long-dead race returned to the Nine Realms, upsetting the balance of power even further, and my heir abandoning his birthright to waste the next century in the company of a woman who will be gone in a blink.”

Thor remembered his brother’s parting words, the tight, sorrowful embrace, and the lock of hair Loki had given him. “He gave up his chance for freedom. He accepted responsibility for his crimes, even though we know now that he was being manipulated. What more would you have from him?”

“Nothing. I am grateful to have my youngest son back. But I would have my eldest reclaim his place as well.”

But Thor shook his head, and stepped away from his father’s fond hand. “I can never be the king you want. Loki can. He is like you in ways that I am not.”

Odin went suddenly still. “What do you mean?”

“I lack your ruthlessness.”

L'éternité de la damnation, l'infinité de la jouissance (Crimson Peak)

It had been two years. Two years of independence and travel and writing and of seeing the world. Her life would never be normal again, but at least now it felt charmed instead of cursed. At least during the day.

At night, she still dreamed of red-soaked white nightdresses, and of Lucille Sharpe haunting the crumbling halls of Allerdale. She woke with the taste of blood in her mouth, and visions of Thomas screaming in hell.

She didn’t know if he deserved that. He had done terrible things, but how many had been of his own choosing? He had not been a good man, but he had so desperately wanted to be.

Demon in My View (Good Omens)

Normally, Aziraphale was loath to part with any of the books in his collection – though he was not above going against his own grain for people whom he knew would love and cherish the tomes almost as much as he himself did – but in this case, he was delighted to make an exception.

"No charge. No, I absolutely insist. After all, my dear boy, they were meant to be yours."

Adam thanked him politely, and then asked, "Do you still have that wicked flaming sword?"

Aziraphale winced a touch at the adjective but let it pass. "No, no, I'm afraid not. I was required to give it back."

"That's not fair. It was yours, Crowley said it was. And you did help save the world with it. They should give it back to you."

"Well, perhaps they will, one day."

And His Feet Were Made of Clay (Good Omens)

The bookshop of A.Z. Fell was closed. It was the middle of the day and every shop surrounding it was open for business, but most passersby didn't seem to notice the bookshop, and the ones who did weren't surprised that it was closed. In fact, if you examined the diaries of London citizens going back to eighteen hundred, you would find countless entries complaining about the fact that Mr. Fell and Co. (Aziraphale had added the 'Co.' in the eighteen-forties, when he realized he needed to start pretending to be his own son.) never seemed to be open, and that when they were, the very nice gentleman inside was always curiously reluctant to actually sell you anything.

The thing that Aziraphale had always liked most about his corporation was that it looked human. It lacked basic human needs and drives, but it could simulate and perform those functions with perfect adequacy, and really, that was beside the point, because it looked human. It looked unique, the way humans did. Looked like God the way humans did, and the way angels most emphatically did not. Angels had been created by the Almighty with a variety of ineffable functions in mind, and what they looked like when they weren't cramming all their eyes and wings and wheels into a chunky bipedal casing with odors and fluids reflected those functions.

Humans, as near as Aziraphale had been able to figure out in six thousand years of watching, had no preordained function. God had made them because they were fun and that was enough, and he rather liked that about them. Envied that about then, even. (Envy wasn't something he was supposed to admit to, but he lied to himself about so many other things that he simply couldn't have this one on his conscience.)

Although if they did have a function, he was convinced that they existed for the sole purpose of making more of themselves.

A Pause From Thinking (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine)

“Doctor, I appreciate the courtesy call, but it this is some sort of human mourning ritual, I’m really not interested.”

"I didn't think you'd be interested in mourning. I just thought you might want some company. A loss is a loss, after all." Julian poured out the whiskey and handed Garak a glass. "Here's to terrible fathers."

Lots of Rules and No Mercy (sequel to “I Say, Why Not?”) (Tron) 

It was about a month after Alan was first able to communicate with his security program that Tron made the request—not out of any doubt in his user's abilities, but out of respect for the human he looked to as both creator and guardian angel.

"His name was Ram," said Tron, the words appearing on the screen beneath his angularly-rendered face, his voice coming through the headphones like an echo of Alan's own voice. "We were in the MCP's holding cells together for a while. He was just an actuarial program, but he was good at the games and..." The blocky, pixelated face didn't convey one-tenth of the emotion Alan was sure he could hear in the program's tight, gruff voice. "He was a good friend."

"I'm sorry." Alan felt silly, even after a month, apologizing and offering sympathy for the erasure of a program. He was a software engineer after all—he'd been writing and rewriting and erasing programs since high school. It had never been that big of a deal before. "I'm sorry, Tron."

Tron seemed to gather himself together. "Alan. Can you resurrect him?"

Alan stared at the face on the screen, unsure of what to say. He knew Tron couldn't see him or his expression of dumbfounded shock, but the silence said enough. "Forgive me," Tron murmured, seeming to bow his head in the way that made Alan the most uncomfortable. "It was impertinent of me, I shouldn't have asked—"

"It's not that," Alan blurted out. "It's just—I wouldn't know where to start," he added, trying to ignore the uneasy thrill of his creation's simple faith in him.

The Goblin Emperor’s Garden (The Goblin Emperor)

It became Maia’s habit, following the drama of his first Winternight as emperor of the Elflands, and once his wife-to-be decided that he no longer needed quite so many dancing lessons, to hold small intimate suppers one evening a week in his private dining room in the Alcethmeret. Sometimes he entertained several people, sometimes only a few, but nearly every week, Csethiro Ceredin was at the table.

If it was only the two of them at supper, she sat opposite him, where he had the privilege of listening to her speak until the small hours of the morning on all manner of topics, while he forgot about his meal and tried not to drown in her brilliant blue eyes. If there were others at table, she sat at his right, and though she had other social obligations on such evenings, it was worth it to Maia, to be able to sometimes, quickly and surreptitiously and not always entirely secretly, squeeze her hand under the embroidered tablecloth.

His secretary and all of his nohecharei always noticed, and he suspected that they desperately wanted to tease him about it. His nephew Prince Idra also always seemed to notice, and as he and Maia grew closer, Idra did not hesitate to tease him.

“You should be careful,” Csethiro playfully warned the prince, one night after the rest of the guests had taken their leave and the three of them were alone at table, lingering over dessert. “For someday your uncle will find you a wife, and you will make just such a fool of yourself, and he will be as shameless in laughing at you.”

Idra and Maia both blushed, stamping their utterly dissimilar features with a moment of family resemblance. “If I am so fortunate as to someday have such a wife as to be worth making a fool of myself over,” said Idra, half-bold and half-shy, as only a fourteen-year-old boy could be, “I should thank my uncle profusely for his choice, and not mind the teasing.”

“Well spoken, cousin,” Maia said gratefully.

[fart-gate]

SG1

Season 2 episode 6

"THORS CHARIOT"

Notes by me

- P5C629

- I really hope they didnt just shut the iris on someone they know

- oh it was a nuke? Who has nukes

- never mind it was that box they gave those viking ppl! Viking lady needs help!

- oh sorry the planet is called Cimmeria

- "destroying the hammer saved my life"

"And I gave the order"

"And I was the one that fired the staff"

"And I was......there"

Sam just wants to be a part of things

- I gotta say. Hammond has to be the funniest general to be in charge of this place. All they do is vaguely ask if they can do something reckless and hes like Absolutely! Here let me open the door for you.

- back to that planet that almost killed tealc 👍

- does sam have a Zat gun on her thigh??? I'm fanning myself

- oh damn they lost the pyramid ship

- "kids" 💕

- one of the guys who died to bring sg1 there was her husband :( thats sad im sad

- I love her outfit and sword

- nooooo kendra is dead :\

- SAM CAN USE HER HAND THINGY

- SHE CAN BLAST THINGS LETS FUCKING GOOOO TIME TO ATTACK PPL WITH IT

- theyre calling it a Ribbon Device so I guess that's its name

- I thought this viking lady was the leader and yet this random dude calls her "woman" so disrespectfully smh

- bird heads! Like Ra!

- oh good son of hathor. He should be fun

- omg this guys earrings. He knows how to accessorize 💅

- the way Tealc looked at Heru'hur..... Hmmmmmm I wonder if he knows him

- daniels glasses resting on his head🤗

- "Things will not calm down, Daniel Jackson. They will, in fact, calm up."

- "kids" !❤!

- "this is the hall of might?"

"Did you expect something different?"

"Well........maybe a HALL"

Okay sassy pants chill

-

- "wow what a ride" you sound THRILLED

- rumble rumble!

- WOA wait a minute Daniel?? Has a fear of heights???? And im just learning about this???? All right for the rest of the series im gonna be looking for little moments when his fear of heights kick in. Youre in for it this time writers. If you dont keep consistency with this phobia I will personally call the cops

- youre gonna be unbalanced with a flashlight in your hand Sam

- I feel like this is a hologram. Like indiana jones 🤠

- he has to face his fear and make it across to help her GOD I love this trope

- the soft way he talks to her 💞

- I was right! Twas a ruse! A ploy! Blocked

- I'm sorry I keep getting distracted by daniels choker

- "we must fight!"

"Yeah yeah yeah" *proceeds to roughly push this guy over*

So professional

- so far Daniel has loudly Sighed at least 4 times in this scene

- woa wait Daniel said one of the runes represents Thors Chariot (in other words his spaceship) and the name of the episode is thors chariot!!! Does that mean!!! We are getting a spaceship!!! DOES IT

- "I have no idea..." ❤

- its pie! Love it when daniel and Sam combine smarts

- the asgard are little grey dudes? Hes adorable actually👽

- WHAT theyre the Roswell aliens??? Holy shiiiitt

- thor: this planet that we have been protecting for hundreds of years is now exposed to the goauld because of you

Daniel: dont forget to like and subscribe

- jacks is at his limit with plans not going the way he wanted

- them surrendering to protect the vikings 😟

- "this is a good day to die" you are SO dramatic

- SPACE SHIP!!

- so the asgard are nice I guess. I really hope they are bc I like them so far

- they got a new hammer that wont hurt Tealc😭😭😭 alright alright maybe the little grey dudes can stay

~

Whump under the cut

Daniel jackson whump: admitting to fear of heights, has to go out on ledge to help lady, falling , only lasts about 2 minutes

🎶 listening to Thunder by Boys And Girls🎶 bc thor is god of thunder and I really like this song ok dont judge

[pikapeppa]

oooh a fenquisition prompt: how about fenris interacting with sera?

Your wish is my command! Here is Sera’s recruitment mission, led by Fenris and accompanied by the rest of the Inquisition crew. 

A late-night entry for @dadrunkwriting Friday!

Read on AO3 instead; ~3200 words.

********************

Cassandra carefully wiped the blood from her blade and glared at Fenris. “Remind me again whose idea it was to pursue this so-called scavenger hunt?”

“Hawke,” Fenris and Varric said in unison.

“Hey,” Hawke protested. “I wouldn’t have insisted on this if you all really didn’t want to come.” She racked her staff on her back, then rested her elbow on Varric’s shoulder with a winning little smile. “Come on though, you have to admit this has been an entertaining little treasure hunt so far.”

Solas raised an eyebrow. “Has it?”

“Yes!” she insisted. “Come on, this has been intriguing.”

“We were just ambushed,” Cassandra snapped. “And we have no idea why!”

“But we didn’t die!” Hawke retorted. “That’s a win!”

Cassandra scowled at her, and she finally winced and lifted her hands in surrender. “All right, all right. Guilty as charged,” she said. “Sorry, Cass. This is just the kind of thing that tends to happen around me.”

Fenris smirked as he stored his greatsword on his back. Hawke was playing apologetic, but he could tell how much she was enjoying this. The odd notes, the clues, the random inept ambush… Hawke’s eyes were lit up in a way they hadn’t been in months - maybe even years - and Fenris knew why: this was like being back in Kirkwall again, running around Darktown at night and beating up the ragtag gangs of thieves and criminals that preyed upon the unwary.

Cassandra grunted. “You’d better hope we finish this task with our lives intact. Then I might accept your apology.”

“Ooh, extra incentive,” Hawke chirped. “Best get on with it, then.” She sashayed toward a set of elaborately carved double doors that seemed to lead into an inner courtyard, then pushed them open.

And immediately threw up a hasty barrier to deflect a fireball.

Cassandra gasped and drew her sword, and Fenris grabbed Hawke’s arm to pull her back. “Hawke,” he hissed. “What in the blasted Void-”

“Herald of Andraste!” A loud Orlesian voice hailed him from within the inner courtyard. “How much did you expend to discover me? It must have weakened the Inquisition immeasurably.”

Fenris peered over Hawke’s head to see who was speaking. It was a man in a ridiculous mask and doublet, holding a flask filled with fire in his hand. He flung the flask of fire at them, and Cassandra swiftly threw up her shield and deflected it.

“Kaffas,” Fenris snarled. He pushed past Cassandra and glared at their masked assailant. “Drop your cursed fire and explain the meaning of this.”

The masked man laughed loudly. “I won’t be tricked, Herald of Andraste! You think to shake my resolve by pretending you don’t know my plans?”

Fenris wrinkled his nose. What was this blasted fool going on about?

“What plans? Who the fuck are you?” Hawke asked incredulously. “Aside from some pantaloon-wearing Orlesian idiot?”

The masked idiot gasped dramatically. “How dare you! I’m too important for this to be an accident. My efforts-”

He broke off as a gurgling cry of pain rang out from behind him. He whipped around to look, and Fenris looked up as well to see a slim silhouette moving through the shadows.

Alarmed, he swiftly drew his greatsword, but the shadowy silhouette drew a bow and pointed it at the masked man. “Say ‘what,’” the shadow said.

The masked man puffed up indignantly. “What is the-”

An arrow sprouted in his throat. He stumbled back and fell heavily to the ground. Fenris stared at him in surprise for a moment as he writhed and choked on his own blood. Then he frowned in the direction of their mysterious helper. “Show yourself,” he ordered.

The bow-wielding newcomer skipped out of the shadows. She was an elf with a messy mop of straw-coloured hair, and she pranced carelessly over to their dying opponent without even looking at Fenris. “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Squishy one, but you heard me, right? Just say ‘what’. Rich tits always try for more than they deserve.” She bent down beside the now-dead body and reached for her arrow, and Fenris watched with growing bemusement as she attempted to pull the arrow back through the messy wound she’d dealt.

“‘Blah blah blah,’” she said mockingly. “‘Obey me! Arrow in my face!’” She hummed tunelessly to herself as she tried in vain to pull her arrow from the dead man’s throat.

“Maker’s balls,” Hawke said. She wandered over to Fenris’s side with a grin. “This girl is the outcome of the scavenger hunt?”

“It… seems that way,” Fenris said blankly.  

Hawke snorted a laugh. “This is amazing. This is the best thing that’s happened since we got to Val Royeaux.”

“Yeah, it’s been a gas,” Varric drawled. “Minus the ambush.”

“And the flask of fire that almost singed you,” Solas said.  

“And this seemingly unprovoked murder,” Cassandra added, with a disapproving look at the blonde elf.

Hawke wilted and gave Fenris a pleading look. “They’re ganging up on me. Make them stop.”

He shrugged unconcernedly. “You made your bed. I’m afraid you have to sleep in it.”

Hawke fanned herself playfully. “My my, Fenris. Talking about going to bed in front of all these people? If you insist…” She sidled closer to him and wrapped her arm around his waist.

Solas lifted his eyes to the sky as if to search for patience, and Cassandra self-consciously cleared her throat. Fenris shot Hawke a chiding look, then looked down at the little blonde archer. “Who are you, exactly?” he asked.

“I’m trying to get me arrow from… this… hah!” She finally pulled her arrow from the dead man’s throat, then sat on the ground and looked at it triumphantly. “Gotcha,” she said, then tucked the blood-caked arrow into her quiver and finally looked Fenris full in the face.

She frowned. “And you’re an elf.”

Fenris frowned at her. “Yes,” he said cautiously. “So are you.”

She pouted, then shrugged and perked up. “Well, it’s all good, innit? The important thing is, you glow!” She pointed at his left hand. “You’re the Herald thingy!” Her eyes widened as she focused on his palm. Then her gaze travelled up his arm and over his exposed biceps, and Fenris scowled as her uninhibited stare landed on his tattooed neck and chin.

“What’s with the lines?” she asked. “You look like a map. Can’t tell your arsehole from your ear, can you?”

He grunted, then jerked his chin at the dead man. “Who was he? What did he want with us?”

The blonde elf shrugged and pushed herself to her feet. “No idea. I don’t know this idiot from manners. My people just said the Inquisition should look at him.”

“What?” Cassandra exclaimed. “You mean to say this man you killed was a complete stranger to you?”

Fenris held up a hand. “Wait. Who are your people?” he demanded. Why couldn’t this woman give him a clear answer?

She shrugged. “You know. People-people!” She jerked a thumb at herself. “Name’s Sera.” She pointed at a large abandoned crate. “This is cover. Get ‘round it!”

Fenris stared at her in total confusion. Sera widened her eyes comically at him. “For the reinforcements,” she said loudly, as though he was a total dunce. Then she snorted and ducked behind a nearby pillar. “Don’t worry, someone tipped me their equipment shed. They’ve got no breeches!”

“Breeches?” Fenris repeated faintly. He was starting to feel as stupid as Sera seemed to think he was. Then he whipped around as the sounds of shouting and clanging steel flooded into the courtyard from a gate just off to the northeast.

A handful of sword-bearing soldiers surged toward them. Fenris pulled his greatsword from his back with a snarl, then stopped to stare.

The soldiers were all missing their breeches. Fenris only had a split second to marvel at the complete and utter idiocy of the moment before launching himself into the fight.

In truth, it was hardly a fight and more of a massacre. There were only eight Orlesian soldiers against Fenris and his five companions, and the soldiers seemed so distracted by their lack of trousers that killing them was no more difficult than taking food from a baby nug. By the time the soldiers were dead, Sera was positively cackling with glee.

She slid her bow onto her back and planted her hands on her hips. “Friends really came through with that tip. No breeches!” she crowed.

Hawke snickered. “Just when I thought this couldn’t get any better, we get a handful of idiot soldiers with their cocks out.” She sighed happily and slung her arm around Sera’s neck. “You might be a little bit insane, but I like your style.”

Sera’s ears went a bit pink, and she elbowed Hawke. “Phwoar, you’re not so bad yourself.”

Fenris scowled at Sera. “If you had access to their equipment shed, why would you not take their swords instead?” he demanded.

She gave him that look again: a look that indicated that she thought he was missing the point entirely. “Because no breeches,” she said slowly. She waved at the dead soldiers. “Dangly bits all hanging out? Way better than no swords hanging out!”

Varric snorted. “I guess it is kind of strategic.”

“True. It makes a certain kind of sense,” Solas said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “These men were quite distracted during the battle.”

“Right?” Sera said brightly. Then she wrinkled her nose at Solas. “Pffft. You’re way too elfy. Next.”

Solas frowned, and Fenris sighed loudly and folded his arms. “All right. You dragged us into this harebrained fight. Now what do you want?”

“I want to help your Inquisition-thingy,” she announced.

Cassandra scowled. “You want to join the Inquisition?” she said scathingly. “Why?”

Sera folded her arms and shifted her weight jauntily to one hip. “It’s like this. I sent you a note to look for hidden stuff from my friends? The friends of Red Jenny. That’s me.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “You are Red Jenny?”

“Well, I’m one,” Sera corrected. “So is a guy in Montfort, some woman in Kirkwall… there were three in Starkhaven. Brothers or something.” She shrugged impatiently. “It’s just a name, yeah? It lets little people, friends, be part of something while they stick it to nobles they hate. So here, in your face: I’m Sera. The friends of Red Jenny are sort of out there.” She waved vaguely toward the gate. “I use them to help you. Plus arrows.”

Fenris studied her carefully. Beneath the rambling and the crass jokes, he was finally starting to see what she was about.

“You and your friends are people of low status,” he said. “Invisible people who are ignored by those in power. Servants and pageboys and the like?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. “That’s it,” she said brightly. “Them’s the ones. Someone little always hates someone big. And unless you don’t eat, sleep, or piss, you’re never far from someone little.”

Fenris nodded, then jerked his head at the dead man that she’d shot through the throat. “And this man? What were his crimes against those who served him?”

Sera shrugged. “Dunno. But a lot of people hated this guy. Someone got a laugh, someone got even, someone got paid.” She shot a pointed look at Cassandra. “And someone has to have it explained to them that free help is good.”

Cassandra folded her arms obstinately. “You killed a man without knowing his crimes. You cannot be certain he was guilty,” she argued.

“Aw come on, Seeker,” Varric said soothingly. “How good could he be? He tried to kill us without thinking twice.”

“But - that is not - Varric, it is the principle of it,” Cassandra said sharply. “It sets a terrible precedent. Killing people without being certain of their guilt?”

Solas folded his hands behind his back. “Some might argue that that is the life of a common foot soldier,” he said mildly. “A soldier must trust what their commander tells them. Perhaps Sera and her Red Jennies are soldiers for a different type of cause.”

Sera snorted loudly. “We aren’t no soldiers. We’re just friends helping friends.” She gave Fenris a pointed look. “Look, d’you need people or not? I want things to go back to normal, just like you.”

Fenris studied her appraisingly, then shrugged. “All right. Yes. You can join us.”

Cassandra tutted loudly, but Sera didn’t seem to hear; she punched the air with her fist. “Yes! Get in good before you’re too big to like. That’ll keep your breeches where they should be! Plus extra breeches, because I have all these…” She trailed off, then gave Fenris a bright and slightly maniacal smile. “You have merchants who buy that pish, yeh? Got to be worth something.”

“Er, yes,” Fenris said. Sera was practically hopping with energy, shifting restlessly from foot to foot, and Fenris was starting to feel slightly overwhelmed by her constant activity.

“Bring the extra breeches to Haven. We will give them to the refugees,” Cassandra said. She looked distinctly disgruntled.

Varric patted her elbow. “That’s the spirit, Seeker. Join in with the madness. You’ll get used to it.”

Cassandra made a disgusted noise and folded her arms. Meanwhile, Sera was chatting cheerfully with Hawke, who seemed to be giving her directions of some kind.

Fenris narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What are you two talking about?”

Hawke blinked innocently at him. “Nothing,” she said.

Sera elbowed her and snickered. “I’ll find it, yeh? Sounds like good reading for the road.” She darted over to Fenris and punched him affably in the arm. “Haven, right? See you there, Herald! This will be grand!” She ran off toward the gate, and a minute later, she was gone.

“Weird,” Varric said. He looked up at Fenris. “She didn’t even ask your name, did she?”

Fenris folded his arms and gave Hawke a severe look. “What did you tell her?”

Hawke tucked her hands in her pockets and batted her eyelashes. “I might have told her where to find that issue of the Randy Dowager at the docks.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “You still don’t know if that belonged to someone.”

Varric snorted. “I don’t know, elf. I think there might’ve been a reason it was left behind a barrel of smelly fish guts by the docks.”

Hawke grinned at him. “Varric, are you jealous? Just because Swords and Shields was a complete flop-”

Cassandra burst into a violent coughing fit, and Fenris and the others turned to look at her.

“Are you all right?” Solas asked.

Fenris stared at her in alarm. Her cheeks were flaming red. He tugged the canteen of water from his belt and handed it to her. “Drink this,” he advised.

She snatched the canteen and gulped a few mouthfuls of water, then delicately covered her mouth as she handed the canteen back. She took a deep breath through her nose, then frowned at Fenris. “I am not so sure about this Sera person,” she said. “The type of ‘help’ she is offering sounds like little more than petty criminality.”

Fenris lifted his chin. “You come from a long line of nobles,” he told her. “You do not understand her way of life. Being an elf of low birth…” He pursed his lips. “City elves who live in poverty can be one of two things. They can be targets for abuse, or they can be invisible. Often, they are both. They receive little more attention or respect than rats.” He shifted his weight to one hip. “Now imagine that the rats could stage a rebellion of sorts. Working silently to hamstring their predators without being seen…” He sighed and gazed idly at his lyrium-lined palms for a moment.

Then Hawke’s fingers slid across his palm. He raised his chin and met her warm amber eyes.

Hawke squeezed his fingers, and he looked at Cassandra once more. “Your Inquisition is not unlike Sera’s Red Jennies,” he said. “You are small, and the Templars and the nobles and the people who look down on you: they think you’re insignificant. That could be for the best, for now. You can work quietly and save your strength. They will underestimate you, and you will be able to catch them by surprise.”

Cassandra didn’t reply, and the others were oddly quiet as well.

Solas eventually broke the silence. “Well spoken,” he murmured.

Fenris glanced at him curiously. The elven mage’s expression was oddly complex: both proud and melancholy at once.

Then Cassandra sighed. “I am sorry, Fenris. Once again, I…” She trailed off and rubbed her hands together nervously, then sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. “You see things I cannot. You truly are well-suited for this,” she said.

He frowned slightly and didn’t reply. From the way Cassandra was speaking, one would almost believe Fenris hadn’t been essentially forced into this recruitment role.

Cassandra waved toward the gates that would take them back to the city. “Shall we go?”

He nodded, and their little party moved off toward the gates. Fenris walked hand-in-hand with Hawke as they followed the quiet road back to Val Royeaux.

She bumped her arm gently against his. “If you’d ever had the chance to stage a slave rebellion in Tevinter, you would have,” she told him quietly. “You were just… too isolated.”

Fenris shrugged. “Is that all it was?” he said. “I can say I didn’t know rebellion was possible when I was under Danarius’s thumb. But… perhaps I simply lacked the strength to act.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hawke said fiercely. She squeezed his hand. “You’re the strongest person I know. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

He twisted his lips doubtfully. “In any case, Sera’s network could be useful. They may be able to supplement Leliana’s spies, at the very least.”

Hawke smiled to herself and didn’t speak. Fenris tilted his head. “What? Why are you smiling?”

She shrugged and continued to smile. “Nothing,” she said. Then she looked up at him. “I love you, you know.”

He blinked in surprise at her non-sequitur. “I know,” he said. “I love you, as well.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand once more, and they continued along the road to Val Royeaux. While Cassandra, Varric, and Solas quietly chatted, Hawke hummed quietly to herself, and Fenris thought of Sera.

He knew that Sera wasn’t what Cassandra had in mind for an Inquisition recruit. But help could take many forms, and in Fenris’s opinion, the Inquisition could do worse than a defiant street urchin with wicked bow arm and a vendetta against power-hungry nobles.

Besides, Hawke would be pleased to have a new and apparently lewd-minded friend.

Fenris smirked to himself and shook his head. I hope I won’t regret this, he thought. But he was fairly sure that bringing Sera on board would work in their favour. Her odd and nebulous band of Red Jennies might offer them a pleasant surprise someday.

That was what little people tended to do, after all.

[dcwastelands]

R Tizfake Testing Event - June 8, 2019

Eevelion: As the Research department at HQ opened it's doors for the testing, all volunteers would be ushered through the halls by a number of goggled researchers and through a set of security doors. On the other side of the doors our attendees would find themselves in a large room, mostly empty aside from a large blast door on the opposite end with a catwalk above, as well as a one-sided window, presumably for the researchers to watch the test. As the last of the group was corralled into the room the door would close behind them, leaving them with dead silence before the event truly started.

Dezzy: Outside of the car rides she was employed to chauffeur demons, Lessy had to say she rarely interacted with demons. Even more rare did she or Cab see them outside of the human disguises, so she was trying her best not to stare. Emphasis on "trying". Occassionally she would try to sneak glances of their horns or compare their colorful skin tones to hers. Still, she kept hands mostly to herself, putting herself on idle, rolling on the balls of her legs.

"Man, I don't think I've ever been in this department yet, let alone the others." Lessy still considered herself new to this world, however, being here did give her a positive sense of purpose.

Gigi: Necktie was PR why did he need to be dragged in for testing--his ear had been chewed off about something to the effect of 'yearly physicals', or was it 'counter-investigative journalism'? God, he couldn't remember now, it was like his brain turned to static whenever research was mentioned as of late. Still his posture was composed as ever, chest out, chin up, customer service face on.

There were, unfortunately, humans here, as he would be made painfully aware.

"New arrival, I see?" get out, get out of here.

Dezzy: "More or less. I'm used to working from my own mobile office and driving you guys around." Still swaying on her heels, she glanced up at the ceiling as it was rude to stare (though on could argue not making eye contact was equally rude)Cab would occasionally work on their aim in infranty, but Lessy didn't know that. Or she guessed, maybe she did since she was spontaneously better at darts since they joined HQ? Hmm.

Gigi: He tapped a gloved hand to his chin, staring upward. "I think ive heard of a chauffeur somewhere around in the files," He tucked that hand behind his back just as quickly, offering his other for a shake. "Welcome to Research, then! I'm not from this department, though, so...no tours."

Dezzy: It took a moment for Lessy to realize Necktie had offered his had, to which she quickly grabbed perhaps too much vigor. "Thanks!"

Taking back her own gloved hand she gave a cheesy grin and a salute." Yep that's me! Need a ride just holla at ya girl." She winked while making a 'call me' gesture with her hand. "Names Sleeveless Hoodie by the way. Though everyone just calls me Lessy."

Gigi:His return shake was firm in kind. "I'll keep that in mind," he smiled. he had his own valets, but ok. Bringing up his name might bring some unwanted gossip his way, actually, now that he thought of it--jeez, why was he forced to do this anyway?

"Pleasure to meet you, Mx.Sleeveless. People are probably going to be yelling 'Necktie' at me, so let's just get that out of the way so there's no confusion, yes?" He gesticulated his arms around, as if trying to stir some nebulous concept around. "My appearance here doesn't mean anything."

Dezzy: Lessy didn't really recall Necktie as the owner of Diamond Jail on first name alone, let alone appearance. Her curiosity did get the better of her as her eyes wandered down to his namesake. "Necktie huh? So like, your tie thingy turns into a weapon for real??"

She scratched at the side of her head, perplexed by idea of clothing becoming something other than what it was. " Like, we my dad was trying to get me into the family buisness he told me a few things about all this. I thought he was fucking with me! It just sounds so dumb... Underwear transforming into weapons."

Zaku: "Mhmm, yup. Yeah, I'm walking right in. It'll probably be for, I 'unno, two or so hours? Money's on the table if you want to order out, just...don't do anything crazy, alright? Ok...love you too."

Ending the call, the blue haired demon did a quick run back of his hair, a tick of sorts he kept for as long as he's known. Pack's interactions with the demon community was slightly sparce to say the least. He'd hope with how downlow he had been, Guillory would practically be a new name of sorts. But hey, he had been cooped up for a while, and Netti had doted on him not being a "cooped up bachelor", so here he was.

Gigi: "It's not quite underwear, though that's a common misconception--actually it felt more common back when I was younger," He let out a laugh. "But yes, it can do that--actually I think I should be,..."

He took a moment to get the eldredge knot untied with one hand, stretching the fabric taut and a split second later, it took on a bright blue glow, shifting into its two-pronged form.

"We're supposed to have our weapons ready, right?" He called up to the balcony, hoping one of the goggled cronies up top would like, give him a thumbs-up or something.

Eevelion: In response to Necktie's question came a crackle from an intercom as a familiar voice (to Necktie at least) came over the system “You can have your weapon out right now if you waaant, but you don't need to, you'll know when you'll want them.” then another crackle as it turned off.

Zaku: Ah. New company. Welp, time to mingle I guess.

"Evenin'."

Dezzy: Lessy's eyes went wide and sparkly at the sight before her! Magic is real!! Well, she knew that already to an extent but seeing it happen was amazing. "WHOOA HO HO! That's seriously the most fucking awesome shit I've seen in, like, ever! "

She then leaned in close and whIspered, "And I've seen some weird shit with LSD."

Popping back into her place and still juiced from Necktie summoning Eldgredge she noticed the other demon in the room,skipping any formalities. "What about you? What does your thing turn into? Can I see please!"

Zaku: Woah, hello there personal space. Welp, he ain't one to be a party pooper. He already spent most of his early years doing that.

"Uh, yeah, sure thing." Clipping off his name sake, tossed it in the air and let it transform, catching The Fix taking it's form, the blade crackling a bit.

Gigi: Necktie gave a shrug, leaning on his weapon; there wasn't much he could do with tile but at least it functioned the way any other staff was supposed to. His attention was turned to the other, noting the fanny pack and its usage as a transformation catalyst. Spear and a sword, both melee.....This was going to be ugly wasn't it.

"Well, I certainly hope whatever we're facing doesn't need a gun to take care of," He laughed, though his smile seemed somewhat strained.

Zaku: "Right there with you." Pack chimed in. Ah, nervous laughing. He too knew this art of deception.

Dezzy: Lessy stumbled back a few steps when Pack threw his weapon in the air. It was like seeing fireworks, kinda! She was in awe,"So cooooool...."

At the mention of fire arms Lessy snapped out of her starstruck trance, " oh! I have a gun" from the inside of her hoodie she pulled out her silencer, twirling it in her hand before catching it. She seemed to have surprised herself at the trick but said nothing about it. Cab must of learned it, the dork. "I got your backs."

Eevelion: Now that everyone had had a bit to get situated, the proctor would finally show themselves as Robe entered from a door on one side of the catwalk, a wooden easel and canvas in one arm, and her other hand interlocked with a sort of... paint bucket with arms and feet, though it's color scheme obviously denoted it as a ghost. The catwalk would clank as the pair made their way to the center, where Robe would set up the easel behind them and then turn to face the group before clearing her throat and addressing them loudly “Hellooooo everyone! Thank you all so much for coming, the test will beginning shortly, but before then I'd like to make doubly sure everyone is aware of the rules, and to answer a few questions you might have.”

Rummaging through her pockets she'd grab a copy of the flier that she had used to invite everyone here, reading it aloud “First, the rules. One, you can't attack me or my friend here.” She'd gesture to the paint bucket ghost at this “Two, try not to hit each other for no reason, if you hit someone cause they're blocking your shot, I don't care, just don't be dumb about it. Three, I say when the test begins and ends, when I say the test is over you put away your weapons, no questions asked. And four, aside from a few exceptions, nobody leaves while the test is in progress. Aside from those I also get to add new rules as I see fit.” She'd crumple the paper then shove it back in her pocket “And with that out of the way, let's take a few questions.”

Gigi: Oh, that explained a lot as to how he got dragged here, specifically. Necktie lifted a hand up with a fluid motion, as if he was some sort of aristocrat hailing a cab.

Eevelion: Robe would lean on the railing of the catwalk as she looked at Necktie "Hi Mr. Necktie! Good to see you getting out of the club, anyways, you got a question?"

Gigi: "yes, I kind of got forced out of my hidey-hole, but it's always a pleasure to help you out, Miss Robe!" This time the smile was actually genuine, though nobody really could tell, aside from his tone changing just a bit. "We look a little, oddly balanced, do you have any protocols in place in case we get ah, just absolutely punched to death like a common incel?

Eevelion: Robe giggled at Necktie's question as she dangled her arm over the side “Yeah your teams looking a little bare, and I thought your chances of winning were low even with like, double your current size, but don't worry though, if we notice you taking a beating we'll call for a break to get you out of the arena, only slightly worse for wear!”

Gigi: "Alright, thank you," He didnt seem any relieved at this, seems as though he just called himself a common incel indirectly. Unfortunate. Oh well, if it meant helping Chaleco's kid out, he was happy to. He took a deep breath, trying to not look too full of dread.

Dezzy: Club? Necktie? Lessy's singular braincell was working overtime to put two and two together. She scratched her chin lightly, looking off to the floor. Something about it rung a bell but the more Lessy tried to think about it, the more distant it became till her mind was gone from that moment. Her eyes glazed over, as if she froze for a second but immediately came back. Though it wasn't exactly her who came back.

Cab jumped a bit in their skin, having being brought to the front in a very unfamiliar location. They scanned the area and took note of the demons that were present in their normal flesh. Cab felt around their person, looking for something but didn't find what they were looking for. Lessy was always bad at keeping record of events in case Cab took over. Though more frustrating was what Cab was wearing like HONESTLY LESSY you're at WORK. Cab immediately zipped up their hoodie to salvage some modesty.

"Yes, ah, I had a question as well." Cab infered from what was going on. They were being tested or something. Their whole air had went from energetic ball to a more somber and professional tone. " My memory escapes me, what is the object today from this here's test?"

Zaku: "Yeah, what they said." Pack chimed in, returning The Fix back the it's standard form. Huh. Cute kid. Had the cheery eyes of Netti back when she was little.

Eevelion: Robe picked herself up from the railing to address her latest question "Very good question! I tried to keep it vague on the fliers since the theatrics are way more fun, but you'll be fighting..." She'd take a moment to hunch over and pick up her paint bucket companion, sitting him on top of the railing "A little collaboration project between me and this little guy. In fact, seeing as how you've each given a question, and yes, backing up someone else's question counts as asking." She'd produce a remote from her pocket "I think it's time we get started." And with that, she'd flick the remote, causing the huge steel doors in front of the party to begin to slide open.

Eevelion: As the doors opened and light filtered in, the attendees could get their first glimpse of their opponent, and it was large, orange, and kinda drippy. When the doors fully opened the creature slid out from it's containment chamber and stood in front of the group in it's full glory, a pudgy ectoplasmic dinosaur, it would blink it's eyes at them before giving the ground a mighty thump and roaring. Robe would beam before raising her arms high into the air “And here they are! Try not hold back, we wanna see just how much they're capable of, and half-hearted fighters give rotten data, and with that, the test is begun!”

Gigi: Oh, he did not like the sound of the doors parting, he did not like the size of the shadow he could see. Damn, this really was a mammoth of a thing, wasn't it? What had Robe fed it, exactly? He pulled himself into a position that lowered his center of gravity, two hands on the spear. He really wished he wore contacts today.

Zaku: "...Well damn." Pack looked up at the rather chubby...what was that, a tyrannosaurus? Nah, looked more like a fat Godzilla.

Yeah...yeah, fat Godzilla.

Dezzy: A collaboration? With that small kiddy looking ghost and equally small child? No, no, Cab shouldn't judge a book by its cover. Looks can be deceiving for all they knew. And what do you know, they were right. That thing was GIANT. Now they were wishing it was something more simplistic and smaller in scale. Scarfing down their fears and checking their silencer they gave a steady sigh, "I got your back covered."

Lessy had already said something similar before they switched, but Cab didn't know. Doesn't sound as cool the second time.

Eevelion: Seeing how the group was conceding the first move, the inky behemoth was glad to take it, rearing around to swipe at the three still clumped together with it's tail. Meanwhile Robe plucked RT off the railing, walking back to the easel and turning her namesake into Chroma, she'd look down to her companion and ask “Well, should we give our masterpiece some support?” with a thumbs up of approval from the bucket she'd dip the brush into his ectoplasmic pool and bring it to the canvas while she thought of what to draw.

Gigi: Necktie jumped up, letting two sets of bright blue wings carry him out of the way. Tryingto steer he only just barely seemed to get him out of the way, the tail swiping past his backbone, a pole-vaulter over a pole. He kept flying, trying not to hesitate and landing a heavy stab into its neck. He was getting tossed around a bit, though the behemoth's neck was pretty fat it still seemed irritating enough of a strike-- he was being shook around and losing his hold. He kind of stuck it in there too deep. He looped a hand into one of Eldredge's hilt holes, letting himself finally fly free with the spear after the ghost successfully dislodged him.

Dezzy: Swiftly, Cab jumped back far enough for the beast to miss them entirely. However, the misplaced their footing, disoriented a bit from the switch, and ridiculously missed shooting the ghost’s head and flew way past it’s shoulder. Cab kneeled down, rubbing their temple with their free hand as they tried to shake off the rust.  They whispered harshly to themselves“C’mon, c’mon nows our chance to show what were made of...”

Eevelion: No sooner than it finished it's sweep attack the Behemoth felt a prick on it's neck as Necktie's spear, it would give a violent shake to try to dislodge the demon and his weapon, and when it no longer felt the object stuck in it's neck it would focus on the first thing to cross it's vision, in this case, Cab, lifting one of it's fin-like paws to bring it down on top of them, the new holes in it's neck dripping orange. Robe would look over her shoulder to notice first blood being drawn, and that the behemoth seemed to have momentarily lost track of it's assailant, Robe decided on her first drawing, drawing a bulky circle with a  nub on one end and a wiggly line coming out of that nub, she'd look down at RT and after sharing a nod, the drawing fell off of the canvas, becoming a real object. She'd grab this object and bring it over the railing, yelling down to Necktie “Hey! Mr Necktie! Catch this!” grinning as a spark ignited on the fuse of her painted bomb as she tossed it to him.

Zaku: "Welp...let's get to work." Summoning Fix once again, Pack gave it a few test swings before going for the big guy himself...and just thrusting air.

"...Right, shit. You don't have ranged functions." Yeah, no shit it doesnt, you goof. Try again, next time.

Gigi: He landed with a skid on his back, turning his head to see Pack doing....whatever it was he was doing. "y-you don't know how to use your own weapon?!" Dear Satan, this was looking to be some kind of hopeless between a human and a PR representative. He wasn't able to think on that statement too long,  hearing something familiar telling him something and....

SHIT

He grabbed the thing, fumbling rather comically for a few handslaps' worth of time before slinging it somewhere--anywhere, and running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

"you're going to need to get close to it somehow unless you want to launch your weapon, which for the record I do NOT Advise!!"

Dezzy: Cab’s dizzyness spell wore off too little to late as  the goopy hand of the ghost came slamming down on their little body. They grunted in pain as the monster’s paw pressed against their back, seeping its weird paint into Lessy’s clothes. Normally Cab would be happy another one of Lessy’s flamboyant outfits would be unwearable but now wasn’t the time. Feebly, she tried to crawl out from under the ghosts paw but, as Silver the hedgehog would say, “Its no use!”

But instead, Cab seethed wily pully at the half of their body that was free,  “Fucking god dammit!” Cab didn’t want to ask for help, they had to prove themselves capable they couldn't let go of their pride just yet.

Zaku: "Look, it's been a hot minute, alright?" Making shit was one thing, but actually using it was where Pack was rusty. Fine. Let's get physical then.

Only to not even hit the fucker. But hey, he was close. Necktie, can Pack borrow your glasses, because this man's depth perception is fucking infuriating.

Eevelion: Catching Cab underneath it's paw, the behemoth picked up the driver and prepared to shove them in its mouth, that is at least, until Robe yelled from the catwalk “Hey! No eating the attendees! I'd get in huge trouble if I let someone die during this.” Behemoth, now somewhat confused what to do with Cab, sort of just, gingerly set them down on the floor, turning their attention to Pack flailing uselessly at it and giving a swipe at him with their big ol' paw.

As Robe's paint bomb exploded harmlessly away from everyone, she got to brainstorming her next drawing, deciding on a little raincloud that she sent floating over the battleground toward Necktie, drizzling him a little bit before loosing a thunderbolt beneath it.

Gigi: Necktie took this opportunity of confusion to try and swing for another attack, but underestimated the behemoth's speed and...kind of didn't hit where he wanted to.  He tried to put more distance between him and the lizard, but flying backwards sometimes means you just end up bumping on top of a raincloud and getting stuck there. Oh, it felt like paint, he hated this.

Dezzy: Necktie wasn’t the only one having a bad time with the paint monsters. Cab was simply, drenched in goop. They couldn't move as freely till they got all that shit off. Angrily they swiped at their limbs to remove the goop. “Great. Just great. They had to literally nerf the ghost just so you wouldn't die great job, Cab.”

Zaku: Hey-hey, he finally hit the fucker. Granted, on the blunt end of The Fix. And non-lethally at that. But hey, this thing is... surprising goopy. Is that even a word? Goopy?  Pretty durable dino tho.

Eevelion: As the behemoth missed another attack it started to realize, tiny things are pretty hard to hit, still, it wasn't stopping time yet, so it went in to grab that demon that had been buzzing around it trying to poke it, AKA Necktie. Robe was already readying her next drawing, a baseball bat and matching baseball popping out of the canvas as she finished, she grabbed the bat and RT grabbed the baseball, throwing it up in the air while Robe yelled “Fore!” sending the ball flying towards Cab with a meaty thwack.

Gigi: He was trying his darndest to get off of this cloud but its like, kind of hard to get off of a paint-cloud without making a mess and he was trying to get covered with as little paint as possible, which was like trying not to fall in the mud pit of a game show obstacle course. In fact, he was too preoccupied to notice a the monster swat at him, which he tired to stop with his spear, but it just went through harmlessly and he got absolutely clamped.

"THIS SUIT IS -----GHGHGHHFPFPPGPP," he got cut off before he could lament what brand it was, or if it was new or not, but we can only assume it was expensive.

Zaku: Aaand another swing. And another hit absorbed by the meat. Y'know that old show from the twenty first century way back then about the square sponge and how one episode had him absorbing punches like a...well, sponge? Yeah, imagine that but with a knife and a giant chubby [REDACTED]Zilla.

Dezzy: Chaleco would of been proud of that meaty thwack upside Cab's head. Unfortunately, they aren't him and that smack disoriented them once more that it made them miss the thing by just a hair. " Seriously?!" Cab called out to Robe. They then mumbled fustratedly as they rubbed the side of their head.

Eevelion: After a quick high five over that sick baseball pitch and swing Robe and RT put their hands to their chins (or roughly where the chin would be, in RT's case) trying to think of what to draw up next, hmm, let's let them get back to you next round. Now that the behemoth had gotten a hold of that pesky mosquito they decided to kill two birds with one mosquito shaped stone as they threw the soggy Necktie at Pack.

Zaku: And anotha stab. What the fuck, man. What kind of paint is that Robe kid working with? Also, hey Necktie. Yeesh, that must be frustrating to have all that paint on you, huh?

"You alright?" He asks them, lending a hand to help the demon up.

Dezzy: All that rage in a tiny pink body  built up enough resolve for Cab to say fuck you to this unlucky streak and shoot the fucker straight in the chest where Cab assumed its heart would be. Even after the shitshow their performance started it, it did feel good for them to get one good hit in and they smirked to prove that.

Gigi: He took the hand, knowing full well that depending on the paint it was possible he'd end up glued there if he waited too long. He REALLY hoped the ghost wasn't acrylic, but he also REALLY REALLY hoped the ghost wasn't oil either. It was too thick to be watercolor. This was unfortunate all around.

He tried to shake himself off, getting little flecks of orange scattered around. The human thankfully had it covered, it seemed. "I'll manage, I guess." He tried to run and take a hit at the ghost, but he was moving exceptionally slower than he was already and opted to throw the bident instead to try and get a proper hit--which uh, didn't work out so hot.

Eevelion: The behemoth was kind of surprised to see a bullet get lodged so deeply in itself, losing focus on its attackers and instead clumsily trying to use its paws to dig it out. Robe and RT meanwhile snickered to themselves as they set out sheets of canvas on the floor of the catwalk, they'd need some more room for what they were making, and once those were set out, they'd get to work putting together their project.

Gigi: Necktie proceeded to move, taking the opportunity to grab his spear and stab again....but the stab wasn't very successful. This felt like too long between attacks, and he took it as an opportunity to try  and put distance between them once more.

Dezzy: "Well that was almost as short-lived as Lessy's relationship with her mother." Dark humor. It helps ease the pain as their next shot for the chest was absorbed in the thing.

Zaku: Anotha' stab, anotha' failed attempt for it to do damage. Seriously, what kind of paint was this kid using??

Eevelion: While everyone down on the testing floor was having their fun, Robe was finishing up her painting, after a brief look at her work, she grabbed RT and flew up to the ceiling with him where he snapped his fingers, causing a tidal wave of paint to cascade to the floor below. The behemoth didn't notice the wave forming behind it, but they did manage to pull the bullet out of them, they would have gone in for another attack, were it not for the wave crashing into them as they were getting ready.

Gigi: Oh, he was moving way too slow now, and even if he had two sets of wings he got hit anyway and got slammed down into the paint abyss, and hard.

Dezzy: Cab quickly climbed up the behemoth's tail as to avoid getting hit  by the oncoming wave. All the meanwhile they clung like a cat on the thing's tail, Cab wondered where everything went wrong. Maybe they'd go to the shooting range and work on their came some more while they were still in control of Lessy's body. After a nice long bath of course.

Zaku: Alright, you big chubby painted fuck, Pack's getting pissed. Finally managing to pierce the fatty, jolts of electricity surged from the blade and into the big chungus of a ghost.

Was...was that meme still relevant in the  22nd century? What even is relevant.

Eevelion: The behemoth kind of stumbled under the wave, but it wasn't too unpleasant for it, just kind of annoying at most, what was REALLY annoying though was getting shocked in the side, the electric weapon charring a section of their goopy skin, the behemoth brought up a goopy paw, about to slap the offending demon when Robe called out "Alright that's enough for now, the test is over. Back in the pen for now" And like a puppy heeling to it's master the behemoth obliged, heading back behind the steel doors as it closed. Robe would clap for the victorious(?) testees "Good job everyone on not getting TOTALLY smashed, though I think the results would have been more interesting with a couple more attendees this was still very insightful." Taking out her remote she'd flick a switch and drains would begin siphoning the flood of paint from the room "Anyways, give the room a few minutes to empty out and you'll all be free to go, if you wanna hand in your clothes to the other researchers we can get them cleaned. I in the meanwhile will go return Artie to stasis, I'll return in a few minutes." Taking RT's hand in hers she'd exit the chamber through the same door she had entered, leaving the party alone in a slowly draining pool of paint.

Gigi: Necktie was splayed out on the floor, crusted in orange, just contemplating his life and his life choices. So this is how it was, huh, getting beaten by a paint ghost. Irony was one hell of a drug. Finally, he got up, removing his jacket (leaving a very fun and flirty orange triangle on his collar. caution, slow-moving vehicle.)

That being said, he held the jacket out as far away from the rest of his body as possible, watching the coattails drip. Disgusting.

Dezzy: Cab Declawed themself from the beast as it left and trudged their way back to the group. Lessy's hoodie and socks were the only real casualty of the event. Her boota, gloves and shorts were made of spandex and rubber so the paint just slide off. However it really wasn't any more favorable that Cab was left in a bikini for a top till they got home. The crossed their arms, unpleased with many things, but mainly themself.

Zaku: He hit it. That's all that matters from this out come. Returning Fix to it's base form, he now took note of the paint coating his clothes.

Well shit. He hoped that paint wasn't acrylic. Clothing choices weren't his forte.

Eevelion: A few minutes later and the floor had mostly drained away, just in time for Robe to re-enter through the main door with a spring in her step "Hello hello everyone, now that the room's drained you're free to go, I gotta stay behind though to clean up some of the mess." she'd grin at the party "I also want to thank you all again for coming, not too many people did but it's still better than nothing, I owe you all, I could take you all out to dinner or something sometime? Nothing too expensive though, I'm on a budget."

Zaku: "I'll keep it in mind. Not a bad ghost you made, kid. You've got some potential in ya." Pack remarked.

Gigi: "He's got a point it's...quite the vexing little bugger," His smile was strained but only because of the clothes, really, there was a real warmth to his tone. "And that's fine, just uh, tell your dad I said hi or something."

Dezzy: Cab stared as the paint began to drain slowly from the area. What an awful day,  what would papa Wayfarer say if he could see Lessy now? Long story short Cab was bummed. They didn't want to make eye contact with any of the demons and stared at the floor as they walked. The only thing other than tiled floor she made eye contact with has her boobs.

Her perky little boobs that had some left over paint on them. Lessy would probably be into body paint. Once again they started to disassociate as someone other than Cab drew a little star on their chest.

Glaxay was due for paint job again Lessy remembered. Just as she thought of that she realized where she was again. Shoot, did Cab take over during the WHOLE test? It seemed so as Robe was congratulating them for their participation for the day. "Fuck yeah we did!" She cheered, unaware of whether it was technically true or not, "sweet free too? Today was fucking awesome!"

Eevelion: "Well you guys weren't really fighting a ghost per se, that's why you didn't have to use nullifiers, you were fighting one of Artie's constructs, kinda like those things I kept throwing at you but with a lot more work put into it, instead of those little doodles." She clapped her hands together "Anyways though, if you change your mind or wanna call up the favor you have my number, well actually you don't, except Necktie he might have my home number, just call HQ they know how to reach me." Taking a mop and a bucket she'd start scrubbing down the test area, waving off the others as they left.

Zaku: Nullifiers? Uh...huh. That was a new thing. But hey, Pack would have time to get used to all of this demon tech mumbo jumbo properly.  But for now, he's got a favor in his pocket, and that outcome seems pretty nice, yeah? Yeah.

Now to get home and try to wash this shit off. This'll be an interesting story for Netti

[spooky-the-owl]

Lance and his bayard

They were all in the training room. Coran and Shiro (the real Shiro this time) watching from the sidelines as the paladins fought with twice as many robots as they were.

They were slaying it, as Lance would say later. They had been fighting together for so long now, they were almost in sync. Almost. Of course it wasn't perfect, but they were a good team.

And Lance was rocking the new sword. Of course he's had to get accustomed to having a gun and a sword now. All his other Bayard forms had been long range guns. Not that he had that many, just the rifle and the original gun he didn't know what to call.

However, Allura seemed thoroughly impressed by him getting a sword now. He'd thought it was weird too, given that he hadn't had as much experience with swords as he had with guns (he practiced with those in the Garrison a lot). But Keith said he was improving pretty well so the team took that as a win. Didn't stop Lance from complaining to Red for making him learn a whole new form of fighting. She knew it was all in good fun and he was greatful. He liked being able to fight short range as well as long range. She wanted him to protect himself as well as he could.

Didn't mean the others didn't have different Bayard forms either. Lance was eternally proud of his buddy, his best friend, the love of his life Hunk getting another enormous bulky gun the Cuban didn't know the name for. And Pidge, his child his lil gremlin, said many times she didn't want another form. That her knife/grappling hook thingy was enough to kick aliens ass, but Lance knew she was jealous. And Keith just had to be extra and get a knife along with his sword. And Allura, the most gorgeous, the queen, had a whip and sword.

All in all they had enough firepower to wipe out entire ranks.

Didn't mean Lance had to keep it at one weapon per attack. He made it a point to constantly change Bayard, which annoyed and confused Keith a lot but impressed Allura. So win win.

Pidge shocked a robot enough time for Lance to pierce it with his sword. Without missing a beat he switched to sniper rifle and shot a few sentries who were getting two close. Dammit, should've used the other gun.

He heard a distant purr that he knew was Blue. She was always encouraging him. He smiled at her praises. Red wouldn't have it and growled, making Lance laugh. He was filled with joyous ecstasy. The kind he always got when fighting with Red. Like electricity flowing through him. A passion. Being with his space family just increased that feeling.

Hunk leaned over him to shoot at a few sentries and Lance rolled from under him, shooting at a few that he'd seen preventing Keith from doing his special spiny swordy move he liked doing.

He grinned. They were almost done when more robots dropped from the ceiling. Somewhere he barely heard Coran shouting praises and announcing round four.

Lance saw the sentries falling and he grinned. He jumped up while changing his Bayard form and swung it to slice the robots in half before they even touched the ground. But he gave a sound of surprise when not a sword appeared in his line of vision, but a long glowing whip.

It wrapped around three sentries gathering them up and slicing to their wiring. Lance was so shocked he didn't realize he was falling until he hit the ground. He yelped as he hit the ground and looked up just in time to see Hunk slap away a robot that was about to hit him.

Pidge also stopped in surprise. "Whoa!"

"End training sequence," Shiro yelled out with panic. He ignored Coran's defeated cry of "Noooooooooooooo" as he ran forwards. "Lance. What happened."

They huddled around Lance who was still lying on the ground, staring at the long string in his hand. "Wtf?"

"You never cease to amaze me, Lonce," Allura said with stars in her eyes. "A whip. He has a whip, Coran!"

"Nice." Lance grinned and stood up. He stretched his sore back. "Ah. I hope that fall didn't leave any lasting damage." He turned to Hunk. "My butt isn't flat now, is it?"

Hunk looked pensive. Thankfully, he shook his head. "Nope. Still as round and squishy as ever."

"I'm sorry but can we talk about how Lance now has a whip?" Pidge interrupted. "You have the biggest diversity of weapons I have seen yet."

Lance scoffed. "Like you have much to compare it to. There are like. Only five bayards that you've seen ever."

"Pidge is right," Coran stroked his mustache as he looked Lance's new accessory over. "You have a very different types. You're unlocking quite the weaponry."

Lance hummed and stared at his whip. He could feel Red sending him satisfied vibes. "Guess I'll have to learn how to use this one too." He winked at Allura. "And we'll have more bonding time. If you will teach me."

Allura smiled. "Of course I will. I suppose we can pause the team training and work on our individual strengths and weaknesses now. We'll regroup in the dining room in half a varga for a small meal."

Shiro clapped Lance on the shoulder. "Nice work, everyone." He smiled at Lance before looking at the others. "Keep up with your training. I will go take a nap."

He left with a laugh as a chorus of complaints and jests followed him out.

So Lance had a new form to work with. He was pretty excited with all the different techniques he could come up with. Like throwing the opponents up into the air with his whip just to shoot them with his gun into fireworks. (His teammates always complained of the falling debris but they just couldn't appreciate art). Or sticking his knife in a robot and turning it into his original gun with extra fire power. He just generally liked to make things explode. His teammates had learned to keep their shields up permanently.

It was two weeks later when Lance got a new upgrade. It was around the same time as Pidge, who'd begrudgingly admitted that she loved the new staff like weapon her Bayard could turn into.

Lance got the same thing, but with tiny knifes at the end.

"I swear it's like you're just copying us by now," Pidge had grumbled.

They practiced together a lot. No one else knew much about this type of weapon so Coran had found them videos (yes they could record stuff on Altea) of fighters who used the staff and Pidge and Lance could be seen spending hours just swinging their sticks around and staring intently at the holographic video.

By Lance's sixth Bayard upgrade nobody stopped the training session they were in. Lance had been in the middle of smacking his knife on a stick on two droids when there was a flash and a fucking maze absolutely pulverized the robots.

The Cuban blinked for a second before grinning widely. "Hey Hunk! I just got an aMAZEing upgrade! It's SPIKEctacular!"

"What?" Hunk was confused until he turned slightly to look at his friend and his eyes widened. "Oh. Huh. That's weird."

"Really?" Keith scoffed after glancing back for a second to see what this was about and then continuing to cut the sentries to pieces. "Why is Lance getting a new weapon surprising anymore?"

"I think it's exciting." Allura squealed and kept side-eyeing the Bayard Lance was swinging around with little difficulty. He had great upper strength after all.

Hunk continued. "No, I meant: A maze isn't really a Lance weapon, you know. He's more light and fast and accuracy. A maze isn't any of those things."

Lance hummed in curious agreement as he kicked a few in the torso before shooting them off with his rifle. He did enjoy guns the best. But it was satisfying to be able to smash away once in a while.

Pidge snickered. "Maybe his Bayard is running out of ideas."

"You know what would be awesome," Lance gasped. "If I got a lance."

Pidge's eyes widened. "Oh fuck yes."

Lance held his weapon close and whispered. "Please make it happen."

He didn't get a lance. Not in his next upgrade anyways.

Keith and Pidge were coming in, each with tired demeanors and sleepy eyes. They sat by the kitchen next to Shiro and Allura, who were talking animatedly about something Allura had done as a child that was apparently funny. Coran was going through his space I-pad thingy, probably preparing some type of training session. And Hunk was talking as Lance made their lunch.

Lance looked up for a second at the two newcomers. "You look like you've been ninja fighting all morning. You guys do know we still have a lot of work to do right? You won't have the energy to do a movie night like this."

Keith grumbled. "Ninjas use way different swords than mine. And there's no such thing as" he yawned, "too much training. Besides, I always fall asleep within the first five minutes of movie night anyways."

Lance just grumbled quietly to himself. After a moment he spoke up again. "You know, I've asked Red about the whole Bayard thing and she just says things like: Good for pup. Or pup can do all. Or something like that." He turned and pointed a glowing knife at Keith. "Am I the pup or are you still her pup?"

Hunk laughed. "Pretty sure we're all pups. Yellow calls me whelp though."

Keith was staring cross-eyed at the knife. "Where'd you get that knife?"

Lance looked down at it and smiled like he'd just remembered. "Oh it's my new knife upgrade!"

Allura froze in her talking and swirled around. "And you're using it to cook?"

"Yep."

Hunk smiled. "It's very sharp."

"And look at this." Lance turned to look at the dart board they'd handmade with hard cushions and threw his knife. It embedded itself on the left side of the circle and he smiled apologetically. "Eh I'm still working on that aim."

Keith huffed. "First my sword. Now it's a knife. Geez why did you even need a knife for?"

"Knives are a basic weapon, Keith," Lance rolled his eyes like it was obvious as he went to dislodge the weapon. "Of course I need one."

Lance's favorite thing (apart from spa days and Hunk) was now infiltrating Galra ships. His teammates always let him go wild with his weaponry and he more than took up the offer. He loved being creative with his upgrades and Red only revelled in his happiness.

The Blue Paladin peeked around the corner and then jumped out with two small guns in his hands, pointing them at every spot in the hallway as if this was an exciting James Bond movie. He ran down the hall and stopped by locked doors.

"I am in need of assistance," he said into the comms.

"On it." Pidge opened the doors through her hacking and Lance slipped through.

His eyes widened and he smirked. "I have a visual on possible target."

Hunk snickered as Pidge answered. "Proceed with caution."

Keith scoffed. "Y'all with this again?"

"Just roll with it," Hunk snorted.

Lance held his two pistols close and rolled across the width of the hallway and against the wall. He peered at the side of the wall to see a long range of cells. He smirked.

"Lance, please tell me you didn't just literally roll."

Lance didn't acknowledge Keith. Instead he announced his mission update. "Target spotted. Requesting permission to engage."

"Hold, soldier," Pidge typed away as she made sure he had time to complete his part of the mission. "Hunk, how are things at your end?"

"Me and Allura are holding them back. I'm pretty sure most people aboard are focused on us."

Keith nodded from his spot as he sliced the last druid and turned back to Pidge, who didn't look up from the control panel she was locked on.

"Go. I will download the map back to the Lions to your visor."

Lance ran forward and didn't stop until he'd come by an occupied cell. The prisoners inside scrambled back and stared at him with wide eyes. Lance held a hand on the bars. "Greetings. We come in peace." He smiled at them, hoping they could understand. Keith snorted in the background.

Thankfully, one of them talked. The translator in his headset recorded it and took a quick search of what language it was.

"Quien eres?" Lance heard, bringing a smile on his face. He'd been eternally happy they could install their own personal language to translate. Of course it had taken hours to download the language in the mainframe but it was so worth it to hear his mother tongue.

He responded quickly. "Venimos en paz. Somos paladines de Voltron. Venimos a sacarlos de aquí. Si les abro la puerta, me seguirán a los leones?"

The prisoners eyes widened at hearing they were paladins and here to save them. Some quickly nodded, ready to get out of here, and rushed forward with what Lance could only guess were grins on their alien faces.

The paladin formed his Bayard, pausing so they could see it, and then turned it into a knife. He carefully cut through the locks and opened it wide. He smiled when a map was visualized in his visor. "Vamos. Hay que apurarnos." He turned to the next cell.

Soon enough Lance and a horde of prisoners were running through the halls, when Pidge warned them. "Incoming."

Lance formed his gun and motioned for the aliens to stop right as guards streamed in.

"Are you in need of assistance?" Allura offered.

"No. I can take these." He hummed in response to Shiro's voice saying: "Be careful."

He picked off all he could with his sniper gun, turned a bit sideways to shoot off one that had gotten too close to a prisoner with his handgun. Then he made a whip and swept the attacking aliens back in one sweep. Once they'd started shooting too he had his shield out and was blocking the shots with his whip.

A few prisoners rushed forward, ignoring Lance's yelp, and jumped on a few droids. He swiped at a few with his sword and looked up. He mentally sweeped over the aliens he was supposed to be protecting. "Stand back!"

Only few listened to him. Others wanted to get revenge for their mistreating. Lance cursed. They didn't have time for this. They had to get going before more came. He growled as Hunk and Allura announced that some of the aliens they'd been fighting had left.

Lance turned to the prisoners that had stood still. "Wait! Quédense aquí y corran cuando de la orden." They nodded and stayed back. He jumped forward towards the approaching guards and pulled his sword back, ready to turn it into his gun.

What he got instead made him so shocked he gasped and stumbled a bit. A bow and arrow formed around the length of his arm. The arm he had pulled back suddenly held a glowing arrow. He realeased in surprise. The arrow missed what he had been aiming but got another guard in the arm. "Holy shit!" He grinned widely and pulled back again. It took a bit of straining. The bow reached down to his thigh and over his head. But it was manageable. Another glowing blue arrow appeared and he released. This. Was. Exhilarating.

Soon enough, he'd gotten most of them and twirled around to the huddling prisoners with a mad grin. "Vamos!"

They followed him down the hallways with awed looks and grinning faces.

"Guys, you will not believe."

"What happened?"

"Are you ok?"

"I'm absolutely perfect!" Ok that hadn't come out that well in English as he'd imagined it.

Hunk, the angel, didn't miss a beat. "As always."

Lance faltered a bit in his step. "Hunk, you are too good for this world. But anyways! I'm Legolas!"

Keith furrowed his eyebrows as he helped Pidge put away her tech. "Wasn't Lotor Legolas?"

"Loro's a snake," Allura grumbled.

"No. I am." Lance continued. "Am Legolas, I mean. I got a bow and arrow!"

"Are you for fucking real?!"

[gabe-is-no-longer-back-baby]

Another Muse Thingy

Bold anything that applies to your character or their aesthetics

Tagging: @muted-winchester @vampgonehunter

COLORS: red. Brown. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Purple. Pink. Black. White. Teal. Silver. Gold. Grey. Lilac. Metallic. Matte. Royal Blue. Strawberry Red. Charcoal Grey. Emerald. Ruby. Navy Blue. Crimson. Cream. Mint Green. Pear Green. Indigo. Turquoise.

ELEMENTS: Fire. Ice. Water. Air. Earth. Rain. Snow. Wind. Moon. Stars. Sun. Heat. Cold. Steam. Frost. Lightning. Sunlight. Moonlight. Dawn. Dusk. Twilight. Midnight. Sunrise. Sunset. Dew drops. Fog.

BODY: Claws. Long fingers. Fangs. Wings. Tails. Lips. Bare feet. Freckles. Bruises. Canines. Scars. Scratches. Wounds. Burns. Spikes. Feathers. Webs. Eyes . Hands. Sweat. Tears. Cheekbones. Feline. Chubby. Curvy. Short. Tall. Average height. Muscular. Slender. Piercings. Tattoos. Strong. Weak. Struggling. Athletic.

WEAPONS: Fists. Sword. Dagger. Spear. Scythe. Bow and arrow. Hammer. Shield. Poison. Guns. Axes. Words. Throwing Axes. Whips. Knives. Throwing knives. Pepper spray. Tasers. Machine guns. Sling shots. Katanas. Maxes. Staffs. Wand. Powers. Magical items. Magic. Rocks. Mud balls. Cannons. Rifles.

MATERIALS: Gold. Silver. Platinum. Titanium. Diamonds. Pearls. Rubies. Opals. Sapphires. Emeralds. Metal. Iron. Rust. Steel. Glass. Wood. Porcelain. Paper. Wool. Fur. Lace. Leather. Silk. Velvet. Denim. Linen. Cotton. Charcoal. Clay. Stone. Asphalt. Brick. Marble. Dust. Glitter. Blood. Dirt. Mud. Smoke. Ash. Shadow. Ink. Rubber.

NATURE: Grass. Leaves. Trees. Bark. Roses. Daises. Tulip. Lavender. Petals. Thorns. Seeds. Hay. Sand. Rocks. Streams. Roots. Flowers. Ocean. Rivers. Meadows. Forests. Desert. Tundra. Savanna. Rainforest. Caves. Underwater. Beach. Mountain. Clouds. Space. Waves.

ANIMALS: Lions. Tigers. Wolves. Panthers. Eagles. Falcons. Hawks. Swans. Snakes. Turtles. Bugs. Spiders. Scorpions. Birds. Whales. Dolphins. Fish. Sharks. Horses. Cats. Stags. Dogs. Bunnies. Crows. Ravens. Mice. Lizards. Werewolves. Unicorns. Pegasi. Dodos.

FOOD/DRINKS: Sugar. Salt. Candy. Bubblegum. Wine. Champagne. Hard liquor. Beer. Coffee. Tea. Spices. Herbs. Apples. Citrus. Oranges. Lemon. Cherry. Strawberry. Watermelon. Vegetables. Meat. Fish. Pies. Chocolate. Cheesecake. Caramel. Berries. Nuts. Cinnamon. Burgers. Burritos. Pizza.

HOBBIES: Music. Arts. Watercoloring. Gardening. Smithing. Sculpting. Painting. People watching. Sketching. Fighting. Fencing. Riding. Writing. Composing. Cooking. Sewing. Acting. Singing. Martial arts. Self defense. Technology. Board games. Exploration. Theatre. Libraries. Books. Piano. Violin. Cello. Guitar. Harmonica. Harp. Woodwinds. Brass. Trumpets. Flute. Drums. Playing cards. Poker chips. Chess. Dice. Climbing. Hiking. Biology.

STYLE: Lingerie. Aromor. Cape. Dress. Suit. Tunic. Vest. Shirt. Boots. Heels. Leggings. Trousers. Jeans. Skirts. Jewelry. Earrings. Necklace. Ring. Pendent. Hat. Crown. Circlet. Helmet. Scarf. Cloak. Corset. Belt. Layers. Sash. Coat. Jacket. Hood. Gloves. Socks. Braces. Watches. Glasses. Sun glasses. Makeup. Robes.