#hate to see an esteemed member of the high council down

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

Okay so I'm in hospital for lung surgery and SO mad how many polls I've missed bc of this crap grrr

Anyways - which poll result surprised you the most (positively) and which one shocked you the most (negatively) ?

As someone who hasn't seen TF: One yet, I'm fascinated by how hard people simp for that specific Sentinel. Y'all are setting the bar really high for him lol

--- Thunderwave

Shit man, hope your surgery goes well (or went well, whatever state you're in by the time this gets posted)

In terms of positive, Im honestly pretty happy the graham burns post exploded as hard as it did. I still get notes on that fucking thing. Graham Burns is eternal and will never die. I was really happy he got a majority smash vote, I wasn't expecting him to even clear 50% given he's a human character AND he's rendered in that particular artstyle. He's my fucking BOYFRIEMD, my skrunkly, my sweet cheese, my special little guy, my silly rabbit. I am Unwell about that funny little man and I simply hope the vote on him gets more people to watch rescue bots and also get obsessed with his completely swagless cringefail bisexual charm.

In terms of negative, I'm never really THAT miffed when a poll doesnt go the way I expected, but I gotta say I really thought more people were horny for tfa lockdown? Like. He's a dirtbag kinda neutral bad boy with a deep husky voice and a general jerkass demeanor, and I've seen more porn of that guy than I can keep track of. I kind of thought everyone wanted to see him seducing prowl and/or swindle. And then the poll went up and he didn't even hit the 50% mark. Like girl What Happened, how did she flop that hard 😔

Also god yeah, tfone sentinel earned that number for a reason. No spoilers but MAN, he is fun to watch. Incredibly well written character, I want to chuck him against a wall 💖

[onegianthotmess]

I made Dannie a semi-boyfriend!!!

Meet Raymond “Ray” Claire-Blanc! He is fourteen and goes to school with Danielle, who’s one of his only friends because she talked to him one day when they were little, think about four to five, and has been superglued to his hip since that day!

Ray is the son of the mayor of Clock Town and it is said that the Claire-Blanc family founded the town and that they’ve always governed it in order to keep it as efficient and as punctual as possible! Once, someone outside of the family was mayor and the town went into so much chaos that the new mayor only lasted five days before handing it over to the member of the Claire-Blanc family he ran and rigged the election against.

Though he is an excellent leader and has shown that he holds his family’s gift for running things and being the one in charge, Ray has very high anxiety and low self esteem that makes it very difficult for him to put his foot down on a lot of things that relate to personal comfort. He’s sat in on city council meetings and has been able to run projects and help organize events, but he can’t say no to an outing or socializing because that doesn’t deal with leading people, it deals with his own emotions and comfort levels and he isn’t very good at being firm with those. But Dannie’s helping him work on it!

Ray can also be incredibly forgetful, which doesn’t help with his anxiety, especially when he forgets something and it causes him to be late. Even being a second late makes Ray panic because he could’ve missed something very crucial in that moment when he was late, or something could’ve happened that he could’ve helped to prevent, or all of his friends could die and he’d never be able to say goodbye! In short, Ray hates being forgetful and if it makes him late, he gets a million times more anxious and panicky.

Also, in relation to his forgetfulness, Ray almost always forgets his gloves whenever he leaves the house. He usually likes wearing them because they’re comforting to wear for him, but they’re almost always left on his bedside table. He never remembers to grab them or to put them in another place in order to make it easier to remember to grab them when he leaves the house.

Ray’s also really shy when it comes to meeting people individually. He can do public speaking, but individual socializing freaks him out a bit. He’s also shy about some things, like his interests or hobbies or compliments or who he likes. If any of these are mentioned to him, he goes as red as the rose bushes in his mother’s garden! And when he’s around Dannie the blushing is a hundred times worse. But Dannie is a cute dummy like her brother and is incredibly dense, so she never really notices!

And now let’s have a few fun facts about Ray because I’m getting tired!

Ray is a vegetarian! He doesn’t really like meat and it makes his stomach feel funny and cramp up, which is sort of a family curse. So he eats plant based alternatives to meat that taste pretty close to the real thing so he isn’t dealing with constant tummy pains. Also his favorite dessert is carrot cake with cream cheese frosting with some candied carrots on top.

Ray’s eyesight is really bad, so he wears really strong prescription glasses and sits at the front of class so he can always be sure that he can see. But to make sure that he always has the time, even if he can see the clock in the room, Ray has a pocket watch that he holds very dear to his heart because it was his late great uncle who gave it to him when he was about to turn seven years old. Keeping that pocket watch with him not only quells some of his punctuality anxiety, but also makes him happy that he has something of his great uncle’s with him at all times.

Ray is also very fast and is the best runner on the track team. Despite his lean muscle, he’s pretty athletic and surprises a lot of people with his speed and agility.

Overall, Ray a pretty nice person, though he’s anxious and shy. He’s a great leader and wants to ask Dannie out, but he needs to learn to not chicken out at the last second when he works up the nerve to think about asking her-

[accursedkaleeshi]

Blys’aan’s Bio (Wife #7)

TL:DR 2 Members of the Izvoshra bully Grievous into another marriage to the captain of imports of the largest trade organization on Kalee. Blys’aan was successful PR for them & was an angel with a soup ladle. Died 27 BBY due to scarcity of medical resources.

Part 1: Meeting I wrote over 1000 words, there’s a lot of dialogue, its like a lazy fanfic.

Part 2: About Her

First of all, I finally gave Western Wuja Bandit Izvoshra a name. It is Dakaliidae, as Western male names tend to be a ton syllables. Yes his name is Doc Holliday: it’s funny & topical, fight me about it. Anyway, I told you this because he is instrumental in meeting Blys’aan.

So, whilst Grievous was doing Ked’jat (the crackhead friend, if you’ll recall) a solid by meeting his aristocratic family, Ked’jat & Dakaliidae got together to try & be responsible members of society by helping Grievous out. They got him an audience with the council of the largest native trading organization on planet, aptly called Hakaleel. This surprised Grievous because Ked’jat & Daka were literally the two least law-abiding Kaleesh he knew. They must have been on their best behavior to get a meeting with an esteemed legitimate business council. He was not without his suspicions.

Hakaleel was already well aware of the planetary embargoes they were facing. Their High Trade Chief, Yaitee (ee-eye-tee) was present at the meeting Grievous had at the capital with Bryaru’s father. So, the Hakaleel trade council was pretty much in various states of the stages of grief. Hakaleel had an excellent local reputation; Kaleeshi people were not keen on material greed as a trait. The trade council were legitimately thinking of the economic impact on the people. The fact that they were themselves facing down poverty was just a bonus.

Yaitee, in a delicate manner, admits to being almost completely locked out of all nearby extraplanetary trade routes by Republic ban on official registered vessels in their system’s airspace & exorbitant fees otherwise in a currency they scarcely even had any access to. They had been combing over the documentations the Republic was gracious enough to provide them & came to much the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything they could legally do about it. After this admission there was a long heavy pause after which Grievous replied, “What about illegally?”

He had known Yaitee to be a very keen & straight-laced man. He could see his lips purse beneath the edges of his mask. Desperation does much to test a person’s image of themselves. Yaitee said, “Let us see what input our Captain of Imports has on the matter.” Grievous could almost feel the energy of Ked’jat & Daka doing their best to maintain their composure. Yaitee & his scribe led the three of them down to their spaceport. It was not on the scale of anything in the core worlds by any means but it used to be quite busy just a year before. The fact that Grievous had expanded his crusade against the Huk to the neighboring systems actually did a lot to improve relations & they had seen more traffic than usual despite the Yam’rii.

Now it was very quiet. In what looked to be a sort of central gate there was a stocky, medium height Kaleesh woman of day gecko colors standing in front of an equally colorful display of spices. She was looking forlornly at an old datapad from behind her hunt veil before Yaitee introduced her as Captain Blys’aan of Hakaleel Imports.

Grievous was like, “I hate to ask, Captain Blys’aan, but how are things.”

To which Blys’aan, in this warm mix of Caribbean & local Slavic space-adjacent accents, replied, “BOY lemme tell you. Is grim! So grim! Precious few of our off vendors want to pay the fees for reaching us out here on the edge of wild space & not ONE of them are willing to defy the Republic openly. Can’t blame most of them. We can’t afford to regularly offset the fees with oh- anything on our planet.”

Grievous was just like, “Yeah I thought as much.”

“Does the Great Khaganate General Grievous have any enlightenment for us today?” Blys’aan asked sarcastically. Not because she didn’t respect him, but because the situation was that dire.

Grievous deadpan replies, “How do you feel about pirates.”

“Oooh boi, I knew I was going to like you. Guess what, I already have a few in contact,” Blys’aan reacted very excited.

Yaitee was like, “Blys’aan what the fuck.”

But she just lays it out like, “Lissen Yaitee, sweetie, da core worlds want civilized societies. But when we try to advance? No. We should have done that already. We don’ warrant de resources.”

“Yaitee, you hire some tough sons to protect my inventory managers & you deal wit dese pirates. T’ings have to change with or witout us. You are best on Kalee at wheelin & dealin. If anybody try to throw us down river? De General will kill them. Won’t you, big boy?” She tapped his chest with the back of her hand like she was indicating quality stock.

With absolutely zero hesitation Grievous goes, “Yeah, I will. The Republic is not a popular as they like to think. You will find people willing to work.”

Blys’aan says, “I t’ink I’m gonna step down. Hakaleel doesn’t need my brand o customer service anymore. Everytin gonna work out. Or maybe no. I hope I get myself a husband before I get killed by pirates…”

It was at this point the Ked’jat & Dakaliidae can no longer contain themselves & go full gremlin mode. “Grievous is taking wives.” Ked’jat says. “Yeah, he is available.” Daka follows.

Grievous is just like, “I’m- I literally have- you just set me up with your sister-”

Blys’aan again gets very jubilant. “Oooh. You have a hard limit on that number? My pedigree maybe not so shiny as others but I can cook better than your hearth mothers, I bet this.”

Daka interjects, “Also. you came down here to denounce legally binding documents from the Grand Army of the Republic & she was already one step ahead of you.”

“That is true. I am impressed,” Grievous admired only to immediately regret it when Ked’jat says to her, “Oho, hear that? He’s impressed, bima-” Grievous is just stone faced wondering what is wrong with these two.

“Or. I could stay in my position & be killed by pirates,” Blys’aan says with a very overexaggerated sigh.

Daka grabs one of Grievous’s shoulders, really pouring it on thick like, “Ah, General, what if she is killed by pirates? So sad.”

Blys’aan gives Grievous big sad green puppy dog eyes. There is half a minute of silence.

“Very well, you can accompany me home & we’ll see how it goes,” Grievous relents. Ked’jat is like furiously giving her a thumbs up from behind Grievous, mouthing dumb shit like, “Girl that means yes!”

[blushing-starker]

Listen. I know it's been done before. But @starkermoodboards and I were sighing dreamily at starker when I had a miniature epiphany. A lot of content revolves around Peter being mafia boss Tony's lover and not taking part in the illegal business, and I am here for it. It's an amazing concept that I appreciate wholeheartedly. I just decided to shift the dynamic and see how it played out.

The man who runs the sandwich shop can't pay up because his daughter had a rollerblading accident? No problem, Peter will leave her flowers, fill the hospital room with teddy bears and extend the due date. You missed the meeting because pay day came in from the day job and you blew it on beer and cocaine? The kid, usually seen smiling and laughing with nearly everyone, doesn't appear all that threatening. Barnes does. But then this beanpole from Queens decks you so hard two teeth go flying. Consider the due date changed. There are now twelve hours on the clock before Peter comes by to collect. Hiding makes it worse. Tony's enforcers, particularly Peter, Clint, Wade and Pietro, love when people run for cover. It helps keep them in shape and breaks the routine.

But then a new boss rolls into town, a so called Killian (Iron Man 3, I can't remember the name) that tries to steal Pepper and his customers. None leave Tony, of course. Those with small businesses, the little guys, appreciate how compassionate Iron Man is. Even the people that often see Peter's knuckles up close don't turn on him; the prices are  extremely fair and the Starks' always go through with the deals. So this peacock decides to challenge Tony for the throne. It's a political suicide, a new comer daring to impose upon such an honorable house. Not only that, Tony's been in Queens for decades and he's never once betrayed those that were loyal to him. The man had helped the city become a thriving community, often offering assistance to the people while the government's hands were tied. To challenge Tony was to challenge the principles of the entire system. Thing is, it was technically allowed.

The laws state that any person who believes they have fair reason to challenge another member may do so only if the ensuing fight is overseen by the council. There is no room for competitors to initiate wars based on faux insults. Tony couldn't take out Killian's safe house as retaliation for the challenge. Killian was unable to bomb the Stark headquarters to establish dominance. It was the mafia, not an anarchic society. There was order to these types of things.

Peter arrives early with the team, sweeping the area and making sure the ring hides no lethal secrets. He's been to plenty of these fights, but Tony hasn't been challenged in nearly two decades and the man almost never has to fight someone when there are bodyguards to be found everywhere. Nonetheless, the older enforcers can easily recall the last time Anthony Stark was in the ring and they assure the young man Killian will be out like a light after the boss steps in. They wait, silent and solemn, eyeing the competition for any threats or tricks. The men on the other side are from neighboring cities, names hazy but reputations sparkling. There will be no illusions today. Except from the jester with slicked back hair and a haughty attitude.

The insults rain down and they don't flinch. This behavior is inappropriate, for there is honor among thieves and devils. If one is to seriously fight, one keeps quiet and stays with their own. Most fights that occur between opposing families are mere squabbles, friendly rivalries that keep the atmosphere thrumming during boring weekends or holidays. Barnes has a hobby of coaching Steve in the ring after work and Natasha tends to employ her knife throwing skills against Clint's bow and arrow. They would fight members of the same family for fun, for fuck's sake. But no matter the cause or how drunk people were, insults were looked down upon.

It starts with their abilities as enforcers. Peter stares straight ahead at the wall, they all do. The Stark members were considered some of the fiercest fighters by the community, matched only by the legendary Black Panthers. The little boy criticising their skills does not know how in the wrong he is. But he's a quick learner. The tone shifts slowly, and shift it does. Ten minutes before Tony arrives, his rival begins claiming how incompetent and worthless he is. That makes every person grind their teeth simultaneously.

Whether or not you were a member of the Starks did not matter. It was clear Iron Man was an efficient leader ready to help the entire city evolve into something better. So when Killian leans towards Peter, boasting how he'd do a much better job of ruling, him, a nobody that can't even follow the protocols, the kid very nearly rips him a new one. But that is not allowed and a Stark enforcer does not break a law unless absolutely necessary. He would not bring dishonor upon his job, his fellow coworkers, his family; he would not tarnish the Stark name, let alone allow this weakling to get the better of him. Peter loves Tony and he'd let Bucky put a bullet in him if he ever harmed his boyfriend in any way. Not only had Tony saved his life, he'd shown Peter a better reality that let him thrive. He'd shown the young man how to love himself. Taught him he could be loved by another without anguish souring the relationship.

He was Tony Stark's right hand man, one of the best bodyguards in the mafia. Not just a powerful enforcer either. Peter was more than a Stark; he was the goddamn Spider and that meant something here. Before Stark dropped into his life like a fallen angel, Peter Parker ruled the ring. They considered Ben Parker's nephew a legend years ago, a warrior that could go head to head with the best without dying. Fighting against people like Black Widow and the Winter Soldier had earned him his reputation. Every knocked out tooth, jagged scar and black eye made it clear to all: he was a menace unwilling to break for anyone. Becoming Tony's lover and enforcer only resulted in more respect, but the community hadn't viewed Peter as strong for the first time when he exchanged kisses with the Iron Man. They realized the kid was strong the second he looked Bucky in the eye and grinned at the challenge.

(Peter guessed that's why they get along so great. Buck was a puppy. A lethal one that could rip your arm out, but still a puppy to him. The older of the two appreciated being seen as more than just a good fighter.)

Peter vows not to break. And then Killian is claiming he could breed Tony's bitch, show Peter how a real man fucks. The man gets so close he tastes the spit that comes flying two seconds later.

"Tony Stark is unworthy of his seat. And he sure as hell doesn't deserve such a pretty little thing like you."

It's sneered at him, Killian smirking at him wildly. The whole place changes, white tiles morphing into shades of red and Peter wants.

Barnes snarls at Tony's rival with eyes gone dark, Natasha lets out a hiss reminding him of rattlesnakes and the two russian speakers pounce at the same time. If Clint and Steve weren't so attuned to their family and strong as hell, Killian would be sliced ribbons decorating the floor. All in all, a fairly restrained reaction. Peter's proud of Nat and Bucky for not killing the man on the spot. Makes a mental note to get them new punching bags and cover Clint and Steve's shifts should they need the extra hours.

Killian doesn't move from his spot when the room becomes alive with furious shouts of indignation and Peter has to admit it's impressive. But this is a child, and children respond best to the monsters hiding in the closet, not the ones standing in the light. So Peter thinks about the audacity this creature has, insulting his lover, criticising decades of hard work and dedication, diminishing their relationship and in the process implying that his fellow enforcers were just pieces of meat to satisfy lust, inadequate at their jobs. For to attempt to dishonor or belittle one enforcer meant questioning everyone's competency. Not only that, this scum thought Peter was nothing but a whore. He hadn't fought enhanced assassins just so an arrogant dick would take one look at him and dismiss him as a threat.

Peter doesn't raise a hand or growl or yell or shoot him. He could, the council would see it as fair. After all, Killian had insulted all aspects of Peter's life. Doing any of that wouldn't lead to Killian being beaten, though. And Peter wants him to submit. So Peter smiles and the Spider comes out to play.

By the time Tony arrives, his baby has two buttons undone and a single strand of hair out of place from where he stands in the ring. He knows an enraged Peter when he sees it.

The crowd parts for him, bowing slightly and falling quiet. Only the bosses held in high esteem get such a treatment and it's been years since the community behaved in such a way towards him. The Stark heir was arrogant, but he'd always preferred that the people's respect be shown in a different way, one more subtle.

The bowing reminded him too much of his father's reign, the silence that would engulf him as a child and choke the air out of his lungs with the pressure of Howard Stark's legacy. No matter where they went, the roar of nothing followed. Besides, he was always trying to remind the community that they were all equals. Tony was only in his position because of the people that chose him, the people with the actual power.

So for them to actually bow as low as possible and simply cease conversing, knowing how much Tony abhors the sight, it tells him just how deeply Killian fucked up.

By the hate found in Barnes' face and Nat's curled fist, his rival must have hit a little too close to home. But the man was still alive, leaning against a marble column. Which meant Peter, his genius lover, had somehow initiated a course of action that would lead to satisfaction for all those here. The mafia was made up of untamed creatures. For a hundred people to agree not to rip an intruder's throat when the man had so obviously comitted a heinous act, Peter must have pulled out the big guns.

He settles next to Steve, but all his enforcers surround him anyway. In fact, every person in their side of the room shifts closer. It warms his heart. He'll let them break Killian when this is done, show his appreciation for their care and protection.

Well. If Peter actually leaves something to break.

A body slides out of the ring, ends up at his feet. It's a man the size of Thor, someone living two cities over. The tattoos on his right hand are what clue Tony in. Peter's played fair. The guy will need all his teeth replaced and that scar will definitely make a lovely crisscross pattern on his face. Bruce and Strange are already there, dragging him to a corner filled with more groaning bodies and hard working nurses disinfecting wounds. Each man will showcase those scars proudly. They went against the Spider and lived to tell the tale with proof right on their bodies.

He counts ten. Turns to find Peter staring at him, expressionless face morphing into the one he's most familiar again. A grin confirms his suspicion; his darling isn't even sporting a bloody lip. The grin he gives in return appears instinctively, pride overflowing and resulting in Tony Stark beaming at the Spider. It's both unsettling and a relief. The community was used to a happy Peter so the interaction helped remind them who the Spider was. That familiar sense of comfort vanished because Jesus, Tony Stark was beaming.

"Feeling merciful, sweetheart? Giving them a minute is twenty times longer than usual." His tone is light, not wanting to imply Peter has gotten slow or rusty. Sure, it's been a while since his boyfriend was in the ring, but you don't offend the Spider when he's already in a bad mood.

Steve and Bucky tense up, eyeing Peter in case they need to fight him out of the ring. If he gets even more pissed, Killian's men don't stand a chance. Tony could stomach murder. Peter couldn't. The enhanced soldiers prefer the possibility of bruised ribs to Peter with a heavy conscience.

His boyfriend doesn't twitch and Tony thanks whatever entity exists for giving Peter some self control.

"Figured it'd be best I don't get the suit too dirty. May is always complaining about getting the blood stains out. It hurts her hands so I'm trying to help out. If I take the jacket off, the shirt will stain faster."

God, Peter could really pull at his heartstrings without meaning to. He falls in love with him a little more.

The eleventh man tries to catch Peter and tackle him to the ground. The kid just slides to the right, drops down, sweeps the guy off his feet and knocks him out with two punches. It's the loveliest thing Tony's fucking seen and he's thankful Jarvis is taking pictures. He settles the sunglasses onto his lapel, happy to let the A.I immortalize this moment from that vantage point.

"I'm gonna guess what's going on and you'll stop me if I'm wrong, right?" Peter nods and Tony is ridiculously happy for the chance to do this in front of Killian.

He glances at Nat, sizes up Barnes, reads Peter's posture and Steve's facial cues and just knows.

His father used to hate when his only child pointed at things before analysing them. Found it too mundane, or some shit like that. Tony makes sure to point at Killian with both index fingers.

"You were disrespectful to my people. That's common with you. They shouldn't take anyone's insults, but they can and they did. The council probably thinks they were exemplary, hell, Fury probably thinks they were the textbook definition of good. But you kept pushing. Just poking at their buttons. Because it's Peter in the ring, you're little stunt turned personal. You insulted him, his family, me. If it had been one of the others members, Peter would have cut you a nice scar. But tradition is tradition. Even if he could have challenged you, which he could have, Peter would have stepped aside in that case. The recipient of the insult should have a role in the fight. You pissed him off before I got here. Thought he was weak. The last person to be that naive learned how ridiculous that assumption was when Peter beat their ass."

Peter had knocked Tony flat on his back when he'd made a comment about frail sheltered boys not knowing how to fight. He hadn't seen the kid fight before that; hadn't processed the fact that soft looking Peter Parker was the menacing Spider. That was two years ago. Not a single soul has thought Peter weak since then. Until now.

"The law states your men can take your place against your rival. Which is honorable if you're at a disadvantage. Broken bones, flu, life handing you shit right before the day of the fight. It isn't really put in practice, though, because the council knows how hard it is for everyone to synchronize their schedules for a second round if there are problems. They plan weeks ahead of time to ensure participants are in perfect condition. You seem to be just fine. Putting your men in danger by having them take your place against Peter just for the hell of it, just so you survive, sounds like what an idiot boss would do. If you had courage, you'd fight Peter. You'd fight me, but I doubt you're man enough."

The taunting does its work. Tony knows Peter can just knock him out before Killian even gets close. He could switch with his lover, but Peter needed to establish his reputation once again, make it impossible for any to doubt his abilities. By saying Killian is a coward, the Stark heir challenges his claim of being good enough for the throne. No mafia member would accept his reign if they knew Killian lacked bravery. Well. They already knew this, it just needed to be finalized so the council could have it all in record.

The man has just witnessed what happened when Peter wished for destruction and justice. He could get in the ring, be knocked out and none would laugh. The community would talk about it, but they never mocked the loser. Killian would be seen as an incompetent asshole that at least had courage. If he refused…

Every Stark enforcer/member grinned when the peacock snarled and entered the ring. Until a butterfly knife gleamed and slashed through wool, cotton and flesh.

It feels odd, being stabbed. You'd think the cold blade would send goosebumps everywhere, but Peter doesn't register the cold. Would he be cold if the blade was bigger? Or if Killian hadn't been holding the knife for an hour? He knows his reaction is ridiculous. Who the fuck was wondering about the temperature when they had a knife piercing their abdomen?

Although, it could be the shock. Yeah, he remembers Bruce's lessons on the effects of stabbing. Natasha had also reminded him of the shock, so at least that's a normal symptom. What isn't normal are his other ... responses to being stabbed.

"Are you gonna need this back?" is asked sweetly, nearly sickly so. The Spider has a thing for contrasting aesthetics . Being a little shit while a knife is rearranging his intestines does not sound common, but Peter takes pleasure in behaving oddly.

Killian gapes at him, mouth wide and eyes wider. He shakes his head, careful not to jostle Peter too much. Not like it matters much. There's a metal arm dragging him to safety, sliding over the ring's edge and onto a stretcher. Bucky is being as gentle as possible, he knows. It still feels horrible to move and have the knife shift in time with his breathing. Nat is there to rip open the suit, nails clearing the area around the intrusion and Doctor Strange appearing with antiseptic and everything Peter needs. He loves the Doctor.

And yes, definitely in shock. As he's being wheeled away to the med corner, there's a roar similar to that of a lion and Peter catches sight of Tony leaping at Killian. His clothes, jacket, vest, shirt and wife beater lay in a heap by Steve. Tony's expensive shoes are guarded by Sam. The shoemaker was a nice woman. She bought him a churro once. After that, his boyfriend would always buy his shoes at her store. Peter appreciated Tony helping out the little people. It was nice being what society thought was a bad guy while not actually being a bad guy. Like capitalist loving jerks like Brad. The room's spinning a bit and oh look, sparkly lights.

Afterwards, Jarvis shows him pictures of Killian, explains how the man landed in prison five days after the fight. The council had convened with their counterparts from five different cities. All had tales of Killian's horrible behavior. It wasn't hard to call in a few favors and dump him in jail. It was a bit hard to recognize him, though. Tony had gone berserk and no self respecting person was going into the ring to drag him off his rival.

Killian played dirty, so his boyfriend had first claim to fight while Peter was being treated. Steve and Bucky only hauled him away when five minutes had passed, not wanting their boss to have more blood on his hands.

Peter himself only remembers the dull sting of a needle meant to calm him, Nat's gentle cooing and Sam wiping away the sweat near a disheveled curl. Bruce and Strange had murmured assurances during all of it, careful to work on Peter away from Tony's eyes. If Iron Man thought he'd lose his lover, Killian would've been dead in two minutes.

He'd woken up a few hours later, Tony sitting by his side and sobbing. His boyfriend was sniffling as he wrapped Peter's hand in bandages. Apart from the new scar on his stomach, only his knuckles were slightly bruised. Even so, the mafia's most efficient leader was tenderly applying antibiotic cream to the tiny nicks, letting enough space between bandage and skin for the area to breathe. Tony had never once been violent with him, but Peter thinks this is the first time he's seen his boyfriend be so gentle.

The angle was odd and uncomfortable with him being unable to bend much at the waist. That didn't stop the legendary Spider from kissing Iron Man softly, barely there whispers filling the centimetres between them.

"I love you, Tony. And I'd do it all over again for you. I love you, I love you, I love you 3000.

Alright, here we go! My mind associated Killian's body with Yinsen's name and I've no idea why, but here's the correct version.

[shinygoku]

Liar Revealed! A Bug’s Life Essay

A Bug’s Life is my favourite Pixar movie and thus, it turns out I have a lot of thoughts about it. In this case, what was originally my interpretation soley in response to points I’ve seen raised on YouTube and TV Tropes has spun off into this mega essay.... all focused on a single scene.

But hey, it works with one of the film’s main messages; that something big grows out of a small idea!

The scene is the most notorious in the movie, at least from what I’ve seen, and I’m inclined to agree it’s the weakest part of this giant clock. But why is it like that and how could it have been handled better?

As I’ve said, this is actually my favourite (albeit not what I consider their very best) of Pixar’s output, and I wouldn’t have been able to go into such depth without a huge amount of love for the finished product, flawed as it may be.

It’s also possible I’ll write a more generalised thing on what I love about the film in the future, but I won’t promise anything o7;; 🐜

The Lie is ...laid

Actually, I should talk about two scenes. First is where the Lie is established:

After the humourous mutual misunderstanding between the Circus Bugs and Flik, the former are quite horrified to discover they’re expected to fight the Grasshoppers off themselves instead of putting on a show. Ahh, that old classic~

But no, they want out and Flik, who has just been informed by them during the welcoming shindig, is understandably rattled and despairing over this addition to his list of failures. He says the fallout will not only brand him, but his hypothetical grandchildren as a Terrible Loser and even says he’s as good as dead as soon as the other ants find out. Owch.

Before things get too heavy, the focus shifts around until The Bird becomes the main immediate threat. The whole Bird scene leads the ants to become convinced the Circus Bugs are really amazing warriors and, as this is the first time in what could be years that they have a crowd cheering for them it’s the success and Flik’s later idea to make a Giant Mech in the shape of a Bird instead of planning any actual combat that convinces them to play along.

So, that’s the lie set up and solidified. Now for the eventual fallout:

During a fun party after the Bird has been built, an ominous force arrives... PT Flea, the Jerkass ringmaster who had fired the Circus Bugs. This local bug promptly ruins everything by literally shining a light on the Circus Bugs and their nature as such, and then Flik is accidentally outed as the Guy Who Thought Up The Bird.

The Liar Revealed Trope

I would link the TV Tropes article here, but as tungle doesn’t like external sites I’ll just quote the more relevant parts from it:

“Liar Revealed in the Internal Reveal of The Lie, the facade maintained by a protagonist which provides the primary dramatic tension for the plot. This usually sets up the third act where the protagonists are forced to deal with the consequences of the lie on top of any external threats.

There are a few usual ways this ends up. If the lie was for selfish reasons, the protagonist will doubtless face the wrath of those he lied to, but along the way end up having a change of conscience, and try to redeem themselves through good acts and An Aesop about "what really matters". If the lie was well-intentioned, the protagonist may still find that others turn their backs on him, but go on to carry through with what they said they'd do anyway, proving themselves a hero after all.

It's worth noting that this trope is particularly easy and common to misuse, either in the tendency of the protagonist to Maintain the Lie for reasons that make no sense except for dramatic tension or of the deceived to turn against the protagonist for the deception in spite of other considerations that should by all rights absolve him.”

And in the folder there’s a specific entry for this film:

A Bug's Life has Flik supposedly finding "warrior bugs" to save his colony after misconstruing a situation. When he realizes his mistake (that they're circus performers rather than trained warriors), he's forced to keep the lie going in order to not cause panic among the other ants. Once the colony finds out, it inevitably results in one of the most painfully Played Straight examples of this trope in animation history... 

As you can see there, the dislike for this scene has seeped into the entry. Of course, TV Tropes is pretty informal and I like that, but it’s telling that this is a general perception.

Continue reading below the Cut! ✂

What I don’t like

So, I think my main issue with the scene boils down to... it’s very nebulous and unclear as to what’s so bad about Flik lying. Between the Council, the Queen and Atta, there seems to be a jumbled, confusing motive traffic jam that somehow results in what TV Tropes refers to the Liar Reveal Trope being played “Painfully Straight”.

But uhh, what’s the problem? Yes, Flik lied, but we know that wasn’t something he’d planned on doing, it was his attempt at damage control. The other ants don’t know that part, but still, what are they objecting to, specifically? That the Circus bugs are Circus bugs? That the Bird Plan was Flik’s? That.... lying is treated at an absolute moral failing regardless of the circumstances??

The council dudes are like: “OH WHAAAAT, the defence plan was by Clowns??” [No, it was Flik] “OH WHAAAT, we don’t have our mafia money prepared what if Hopper finds out we nearly sicced a fake bird on him!?”

The part about objecting to Clowns drafting the defence plans is actually the more reasonable explanation, but I guess they presumed warriors habitually made Decoy Bird plans instead of fighting themselves? There’s already a hole in their objections but it only gets worse.

The Queen is like: “Wow Flik evidently you’re a self serving prick. Anyway the best thing to do is pretend this never happened and no we’re not going to tell Hopper.”

Why the fuck would that happen? ‘Oh sorry Hopper we got sidetracked doing a ...thing... so we’re still picking your food no please don’t break my legs’

But also, why THE FUCK is this the plan? Some ruler you are, you old prune. ‘We have the bird all made and ready to go but oops the idea came from a DIRTY LIAR so we’re going to return to the doomed harvesting racket even though we’ve been set an outrageous amount and we can’t possibly hope to catch up and even if we had been picking the food the entire time it was established earlier on we won’t have time for our supplies on top of all that.’

Fucking.... astonishing lack of logic. YOU MORONS HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO LOSE, GO WITH THE BIRD! Flik himself says something to a similar effect lol

But noooooo, his arguably selfish lie [which is more Omitting the truth once he knew it, really] has forever doomed everything, apparently. Honestly it comes across more like they just hate Flik and see anything he invents as doomed to fail, so the second the truth emerges that he spearheaded the Mech Bird they dismiss it as a lost cause. Even though everyone worked together to build it, and Flik’s inventions weren’t the issue but him being awkward and clumsy. But seeing how Flik’s mere presence in his first scene seemed to drive the Council members into a quivering fury, it really does feel like their objections are from them refusing to give him a chance.

And then there’s Princess Atta. Hoo Boy.

In this scene, she comes off as being ridiculously vindictive, petty and hypocritical. This applies to the Council too, but it’s more galling coming from Atta as by now she’s realised that Flik gets a lot of flak [yay wordplay] from the others and she had resolved to give him more credit. BUT OOPS, that didn’t last!

She takes the Lying thing so personally, acting like he was cheating on her or something. “You lied to MeEeEee” well golly gee whiz, was there any particular reason why he would tell you the truth? Other than his rather obvious crush on you, that is? Cause that would still be a weird reason, seeing how the ‘lie’ was after he’d finally got a bit of decent treatment from the others, why would he wanna upset the apple cart?

He probably feared coming out and confessing to Atta [or anyone else] that they’d lose all faith in him and scrap a valid plan that was the only way out of the grasshopper racket mess. Which would be a bit silly and probably the result of someone with low self esteem and confidence issues overthinking the situation but it’s Exactly what actually happens!

It wasn’t a personal slight against you, Princess! To quote Helen Parr: THIS IS NOT! ABOUT! YOU!!

And wooow, you must be awfully chilly up there on your high horse, Miss “Lied to Flik to get rid of him earlier in the film”! Did you ever feel like fessing up? Like ‘hmm I’ve grown much fonder of this doofus, maybe I should be honest with him before engaging with some more light flirting’ ? Maybe if you had, he woulda been honest in return!

I don’t even see why she and the Council bothered lying about their Snipe Hunt ploy, seeing how now they act like he crossed a moral event horizon. Why even bother making a phoney baloney decoy idea to get him away, when they clearly dislike him enough to play the Brutally Honest card without fretting over his feelings. They coulda just ordered him to stay in a corner away from interfering but instead they’re willing to risk his life on a wild goose chase.

...And she then Banishes him! For what?? Lying? About what, the circus bugs or the bird plan? Both?? It really feels like her taking undue personal offence and the Council hating him and the Queen being old and senile.

So yeah, wow, this scene has what I think is the Unintended side effect of making me hate the stupid jerkface Ant colony as every named ant in it except for Dot fucking suck and throw Flik under a bus the second they deem him to be untrustworthy. In spite of, like, that the plan itself was solid and that the Circus Bugs have all been proven to be Good Eggs. They don’t give him a chance to explain and made their own bed to lie in, so I feel dark joy and satisfaction when the grasshoppers do arrive and kick them around some more.

Wow gee, if only you dumb ass ants had some sort of already made contraption to fall back on?

Why is it like this?

I can only make guesses here, be warned!

From what I’ve gathered of an older version of the story, mostly via Wikipedia, I kinda feel like the exposing would have fit that take better. In the beta version of the story, instead of Flik the lead would have been “Red”, who was a red ant and circus bug from the start. The first draft Circus lot woulda been out to scam the ants initially and I guess would have grown genuine fondness with time. The idea of an outsider flim flamming his way into the good books and later being exposed makes the overblown outrage a lot more understandable. But that’s my hypothesis for the direction they ultimately didn’t go in. Also look at how Red looks like a fuckboi here:

But in the final version, Red doesn’t exist! Flik is a part of the colony from the get go, but also apart from it cause no one likes him as, again, his ideas were good but poorly executed and he seemed to be a hindrance. But the ants should at least see that Flik is genuine in his attempts, that he’s trying his best and they should maybe cut him some slack.

The way the ants have their knickers in a twist doesn’t gel so well with the “Well meaning screwup” angle, especially compared to a possible “Opportunistic so-and-so who doesn’t have real attachments to the colony” route.

Also it may be worth noting up there where I put a TV Tropes excerpt, I bolded the relevant half of the run down, but it seems the other half applies much more to this first draft. Interesting...

So I don’t know, but I got the idea that the scene in the movie is basically a holdover from earlier that didn’t get sufficiently updated. The Liar Revealed Scene is the first thing I’d change if I were rewriting the script, and I might go back and change it again after other parts had been redone too, cause the story needs to flow from point A to point B etc. smoothly or else viewers will get annoyed and point it out in Youtube videos or overly long tumblr text posts.

How could it be fixed?

I’m not saying I’m sitting on the perfect idea of a rewrite. But the main thing is what I already touched on, the jarring disconnect between what happens and how the stupid ants respond.

Like, Atta’s sudden grabbing of the Jerkass and Idiot Balls in this scene. Wouldn’t it have been better if she was instead unsure and conflicted? She had lied to Flik earlier and, unlike the Council, was shown to actually realise Flik Has Feelings Too and apologised for the general lack of faith. She didn’t come clean about the Snipe Hunt Lie, so that could be weighing on her during this scene, maybe she would have been the only Council member to Not want to kick him out but felt pressured into it and hasn’t got into the groove of being the Future Queen enough to pull rank and talk them down from being hate filled twats. Maybe someone will mention the flirting that had been happening as muddying her judgement?

That’s my main idea, compare that with her barging in and taking undue personal offence and shooing him off. She’s supposed to feel like she’s doomed to fail too, so her facing a moral dilemma and falling on the wrong side of the fence could tie into that! (To be honest, her arc is kinda undercooked so hey, I’m killing two birds with one stone here!)

Flik being banished at all is a casualty of The Narrative, that he and the Circus Bugs have gotta go away temporarily for the finale to be cooler and more exciting. It’s a Necessary Weasel of writing and you’ll find them in every story ever made. Sometimes things have gotta happen cause Story Structure. The trick is having them more organic and concealed.

So yeah, have the Old Fogeys be in the wrong [which is so far unchanged] but also the majority of the ‘voting’. Make it difficult for Atta to choose between loyalty to the colony as a whole and her sense of duty versus trusting in Flik, who she now knows to always have his heart in the right place. She comes close to standing up for him and herself, but ultimately falters and gets pressured into the call made in the movie. She’s still ultimately responsible as leaders are, but in a much more sympathetic way.

Summation

This got way longer than I had initially imagined, and that’s even after I cut stuff in the editing process! Let’s quickly review the three main points I’m trying to make.

The Issue with the scene - A big song and dance is made over The Lie, but no reason why it’s such a terrible thing is offered. A perfectly sound plan is dismissed nonsensically.

Suspected reasoning for the writing - The tone matches a potential alternate story much better, where someone would have lied for self serving purposes instead of for the greater good.

A suggestion for a rewrite - Make it much more nuanced and fitting the character arcs. Give the characters a reason to react the way they do and have different responses per person. If the ants are going to drop the Bird plan, at least offer a more viable alternate route than going back to what wasn’t working before.

Does it really matter?

Well, I don’t expect a 22 year old film to suddenly get a rewrite, no. And I maintain that it’s a real gem which deserves much higher praise with the other Good Pixars instead of being so constantly overlooked.

Part of what spurred me to think about the scene and what I’d alter is seeing it referred to as ‘Kinda Bad’ in a youtube video that was talking about another Liar Reveal scene in another movie, and that is a bad take, but the point about how clunky this part is isn’t wrong. I don’t want people to dismiss the whole, beautiful image cause one section of it doesn’t vibe!

It doesn’t ruin the picture, but when people have something negative to say it’s this which is the magnet. And I’m kinda guilty of doing the same thing here, haha. But I wanted to really dissect and examine it, to figure out why it’s like that and to guess how simple it may be to rework. It’s bittersweet, but there ain’t such a thing as a perfect movie.

This has been fun for me to go into though, and it’s nice to get thoughts out from just swirling around inside my head, so even if barely anyone sees and makes it through this whole dissertation, I’m glad I wrote it out. It’s a funny way to derive enjoyment from the bumpy part of a beloved movie, but hey, I’ll take it~

[dungeons-and-divination]

HORIZON WALKER RANGER  - Wildhunt SHIFTER - Sage (Researcher)

Never built a Shifter before, but I play a weretiger in my main campaign, so I enjoyed this quite a lot. I think it shows. I ended up with a lot more details than I usually cram into these posts. I mainly try to leave enough space for DMs and players alike to build up on the general idea I came up with. This time... Inspiration hit me hard and I couldn’t help myself. Hope you enjoy.

Name: Ichor (likes the nickname Corey better) (18yo)

TAROTS

Mind: Justice (upright) Truth and integrity as the core of an horizon walker’s mind are perfectly okay with me, honestly. It really tells me that Corey is a person that strives to reach a balance into things, that he knows every action has its consequences. I can see them as someone that is perfectly aware of how they can change the world just by existing and making decisions, so they try to weigh their actions because of it. But they also enjoy watching the ripples that every drop in the water causes. So they dislike inaction too. Why stay still when you can do something and be part of the reason for the world to move and change, just to settle and come back to a new balance?

Body: Two of swords (upright) I mean, a tarot about being torn between two people or in general this feeling of disconnection on his body? Of course I could just stop at the obvious issues Ichor could have with being a shifter. But why stop with something as obvious as emotional denial, when there’s an underside of something more? I had to draw a card to try and clear this up. And the Three of swords reversed confirmed there was more. Corey is actually in emotional denial about something deeper, but he’s slowly getting over it. Still, this doesn’t get rid of that “something” that hurt him in the past and Ichor tries to bury it more often than not. So, I would say that this disconnection to his body is more in tune to this denial.

Spirit: the High Priestess (upright) Most of all, I would say this expresses his thirst for knowledge, that’s for sure. But I’m not surprised by that hint of mystery and sensuality that comes from Corey himself. Despite how socially awkward he is, I can picture him being unknowingly charming. Which is probably why he doesn’t trust people that try to be very direct in showing romantic interest. Well, I suppose he can be considered charming at least to people that are into dark, mysterious, dorky nerds with enormous trust issues. I know that the broody types always attract some people's attention.

Past: Strength (reversed) After what that “body” had already given me, this was pretty much a given. Low self-esteem in Corey’s past is a constant. He felt weak and vulnerable, that was the main reason why he stayed stuck in his research for so long (and kinda confirmed my feeling that he wasn’t one of the most thought of predators). He probably had a deep desire to actually get to work in his field, but the biggest obstacle to reach for that dream was his own sense of inadequacy (someone like him in a scholarly role might have been teased just for that after all). Deep down, he knew he could make a difference though, because every decision has a consequence, even a lack of action. And he hated when people couldn’t make a decision SO MUCH!

Present: Page of cups (reversed) And here comes back that heartbreak, that emotional vulnerability… With the horrible twist of sexual abuse earlier in his life still there to haunt him. Definitely, the emotional denial from his body as well as his issues with trust are a lot deeper and serious than what I thought at first. Oh, Ichor for sure had some terrible experiences. But he realized that he was in a bad situation, that he’d been manipulated, used by someone older than him just cause he was young and naive. And he decided to get away from it all. The emotional trauma though? That still lingers and weights him down so much that he’s very closed off. I don’t exclude him actually pretending (very badly) like he’s way more confident than he is, in certain situations. Like a copying mechanism to try and hide his insecurities so people won’t use them against him again.

Future: the Hierophant (reversed) Well, with Corey this can go in both the direction hinted at by the tarot. He could absolutely challenge the traditions of the institution he belongs to and that he’s supposed to still answer to. Or he could cling to their traditions in a hope to change how corrupt and twisted things got from the very inside despite how it could break him to go back and be face to face with his abuser. I can’t necessarily give a suggestion in this case; it really depends on how things develop and which way you feel like he would lean towards (even with the party’s support). Either way, not surprised that a decision is at the core of his future. 

FULL BACKSTORY

Ichor was born in a cave in the Beastlands plane. His mother, Shianead, was on a mission for the institution she worked for to research more information on how were-creatures lived when organized in packs like that. She actually fell in love while she was in the middle of that mission with Ichor’s father, Purrenbor. As soon as Ichor was born, Shianead realized she could no longer stay in the Beastlands plane and decided to leave. Purrenbor tried to leave with her, but his tribe didn’t like them leaving with the child; Purrenbor gave his life so that both Shianead and Ichor could run away. Once they were back, the institution wasn’t necessarily happy that Shianead took more than a year for a mission that was supposed to be just 6 weeks long. They were disappointed in her, but once she promised that her shifter son would stay to be part of the institution as well and convinced them that in some way his nature as a shifter could be helpful in understanding better the potential benefits of the were-curse, they agreed to let her stay. Ichor didn’t necessarily have a happy and loving childhood. His mother was more often than not away for more research missions and he was left in the care of a very strict teacher, Clirji Brawen, a dragonborn that made him study for long hours instead of letting Corey run around with the other students of the institution’s preparatory schools. He still was grateful to be considered so bright to have Clirji’s attention, since he was considered one of the best teachers of the school (the one that usually worked with realy talented people). Corey was even allowed to live in Clirji's very luxurious house when his mother was away, instead of staying alone in the dingy apartment that belonged to her. When Corey was about fifteen, his mother had to go on a longer than usual mission that she was even more tight lipped than usual on the details of. Clirji had recently retired from teaching and was mainly just a consultant for the institution, and Corey could no longer stay at his house since he was no longer Corey’s teacher. It was decided from the institution’s schools’ council that he would stay in Norvhila Erishai’s estate. She was the very charismatic head of the research department of the higher level school, and she was hoping not only to find new branches of research for the main institution to focus on with her students, but to find students with a new, bolder attitude. Norvhila was immediately impressed with Ichor, not only for his knowledge reached under Clirji’s guidance, but also for his willingness to try new things before finding once again the balance at the core of the institution’s beliefs. Still young, very impressionable, awkward and mostly a pariah with students of his age, Ichor never realized that Norvhila fascination with him, and her consequent attentions of sexual nature, were very much inappropriate. Ichor felt flattered, and mostly thought he was bound to allow her to do whatever she wanted with him by duty and gratitude since he was living in her house and she was teaching him so much (or so she manipulated him to believe). It took Ichor having a revealing conversation with Clirji when he was almost 18 to realize that he’d been stuck in an abusive relationship all along. Also, Norvhila had been hiding to him that his mother had been considered missing in action for months, because nobody heard from Shianead since her last report from wherever she was for her mission. Ichor found out, when inquiring about his mother’s mission, that Norvhila wasn’t the only person in the institution that was doing morally twisted things that somehow they still considered “part of the balance of the world”. In a last ditch effort to get free of Norvhila’s manipulations, Corey asked the institution’s schools’ council to go on a mission to find what happened to his mother and to consider that his “graduation mission”, a test that every student had to pass to prove that tey were ready to become a fullfledged member. Unexpectedly (and probably with a big push from Clirji), the council allowed him to leave. Corey somehow still believed the institution could do some good, if he just got rid of the “twisted people”. He just find a way to actually make the right decision that would ripple the waters enough for that change to happen. And he had a feeling that finding his mother was just the first step in a much longer path.

(As a note, extra info. I think this could be more for a DM than a player but still relevant for both, especially the part about Clirji that could be considered a little bit of the conversation that cleared Corey’s mind on how things worked inside the institution. Corey is still convinced that, at the core, the institution was doing good [it’s something he always thought]. But, the what the institution truly does in my mind is gathering knowledge to use it as a merchandise for trade; they don’t really care to whom they give it, if the purpose is to maintain a balance. They think, since they gather the most knowledgeable and smart people in the world, that they have the power to pick and choose who and what will tip the scale so that the universe won’t be destroyed. But mostly, they are the reason why wars start and end by manipulating other people so that they could get richer by selling their information to both sides [too much power corrupts and all that shit, you know...]. Clirji, despite being aware of the problem, stayed in the institution as a teacher to try and help the students, to warn them if he could, help them get out of that life too if possible, or scare them away with his harsh attitude if that was the only way that worked. Because he felt like he had no other way to break that machine that made him too other than trying to take away the best minds from them. In a sense, Clirji also tried as much as possible to keep the schools and the institution proper to be very distinct and separate, but it was very difficult since he was one of the few people that was fighting against the system from the inside [and teachers were mostly members of the institution too, it was rare to have outsiders as such important staff figures that could shape the students minds]. When Clirji tried to become headmaster of the higher level school, for example, everyone looking in as an outsider would have picked Clirji since he was so accomplished as a teacher. But the council knew by that point that he was against what the institution truly had become, so they just made him retire, telling him he was too old even to be a teacher. And they obviously picked someone that would fit them better and would turn a blind eye on behaviors like Norvhila’s.)

SUGGESTION CORNER

Suggested features Ability scores: High Wisdom and Dexterity (try to keep as high as possible Intelligence too), Low Charisma Skill proficiencies: Investigation, Insight, Perception Others: I had to really think which animal would fit for him as his bestial appearance. At the end of the day, I feel any bird of prey would fit him very well: a classic eagle, a nice hawk or even a raven would be wonderful. If you want to go for something more “classic but still different”, a fox could be a nice pick as well considering his backstory.

Suggested Characteristics Trait: I’m willing to listen to every side of an argument before I make my own judgement. Ideal: The world needs to be constantly in balance. But to keep it that way sometimes you need to act, be bold instead of keeping still. Bond: I want to unveil the corruption that’s hiding inside the institution that made me love knowledge so much. Flaw: After a shift, I behave more animalistic than usual for a little time. It unnerves me to no end when people get to see that wild side. (This depends on the animal you pick but it could be mimicking for a crow, pouncing like a fox, little thing like that, easy to roleplay and remember but that can really bring funny moment in a session too. Have fun with it!).

[gwiiyeoweo]

When the world caught news the Lucian Prince was finally ready for courtship, dozens of kingdoms and twice as many noble houses sent their sons and daughters to Insomnia, all in hopes of worming their way into royalty and alliances — and all in vain.

Ignis Scientia is the 25th suitor, the 25th Alpha out of hundreds to actually pass the Council’s background checks, but he doesn’t hold much hope or expectations. Yet unlike the whispers that claim the Prince to be a meek and shy little thing, he learns Noctis Lucis Caelum is made of tempered fire and a spark of lightning.

And that’s not even the half of it.

Situational: Marriage proposals or getting permission to court Pairing: Ignis/Noctis Rating: G @ignoctweek​

“It shan’t hurt to try, boy,” his aunt had said, patting down the lapels of his suit and neatly tucking the pocket square at his breast. She had given him a quick once-over, turning him this way and that to make sure not a single crease or ball of lint escaped her sharp eye, then let the attendant usher him into the car, sent by the Citadel itself. “Twenty-four ladies and gentlemen turned and gone, but who says you won’t be the one to please him?”

‘The twenty-four who were rejected,’ he hadn't said.

Ignis Scientia sits in the backseat, the partition up and separating his small space and the driver’s — at his request — and he fiddles with the thin metal band on his left middle finger. The black ring is an accomplishment and an infuriating thing all at once. As simple as it is, no gem or jewel aside from the thin line of silver cutting around it, it’s the mark of approval every Alpha across Eos has been salivating for, given to only twenty-four — no, twenty-five individuals thus far. A glimmer of hope, a peak at a distant dream, that the suitor will be the one to win the Prince’s hand. 

And yet, it sits just one finger away from where every rejected courter wishes it to be. It’s a mocking thing, teasing with that faint sliver of what would be a black ring adorned with a piece of the Crystal itself, and it may as well burn his finger from where it wraps around. He can feel the faint pulse of magic ingrained into the metalwork, a measurement of authenticity to verify his identity once he passes through the Citadel’s gates, but it feels like a hefty shackle better suited for his wrist instead. 

When his parents had suggested he try for the Prince’s hand, he waved it off as a tedious effort he had no time for. The vetting process, the background checks, interviews, all of it a string of paperwork and nonsense he wasn’t privy to. It was a joke when he had said he’d do it only if they could magically do the pre-work for him. 

He hadn’t expected his entire family to work through the fine print and bring in their government connections to land him a slot as the next suitor, no signature or interview required.

   Ignis knows, in his early days of far-gone youth and blurry times of childhood, he had visited the Citadel exactly twice before, once in a school field trip and once under the guidance of his uncle. (He also knows, his uncle must have had a hand in all this, being in the Council’s ranks and all.) But he remembers them as portraits painted in watercolors, smudged and foggy where they cross and bleed into each other, and not as the towering pillars of stark steel and sharp glass he stands before. He thinks there was a boy involved, something about getting lost in the maze of a modern palace and getting rescued by a child several years younger. 

He cranes his head as far back as his neck is willing, shadowing a hand over his eyes and admiring the four towers and the halo of the sun just above them. 

It’s intimidating, and though he’s never considered himself one of low-esteem or confidence, he feels his existence a small thing when juxtaposed to the grand scheme of it all. He still doesn’t believe he’ll be the one to win over the Prince’s heart — has no plans to, really, because the weight of royalty has no place in his life — but he’ll try. He hates to put his family’s efforts to waste or toss their name into the dirt for some unsightly display of his character, so at the very least, he’ll humor the fantasy of being lucky number twenty-five.  

There’s no fanfare, no special carpet rolled out to meet him, and he follows his guide up and into the Citadel. It’s silent, except for the footsteps that echo off the marble floors and walls, and he tries not to let the grand architecture and careful stares of the guards distract him. When he walks down the aisle into the audience chamber, he expects to see the great King and his son at the throne, flanked by their corresponding Shields and perhaps some Council members. But there’s no one, not a single soul to look down upon him and judge his entire worth with a single glance or quiet snide, no King or Prince to give their approval or lack thereof. 

Just as Ignis wonders if they’ve all gotten the date wrong or if some poor attendant got all their schedules mixed, he catches the shake and sigh of his guide. 

“Like father, like son,” she mutters in her breath, shoulders going slack for just a moment before straightening out again. In that short window of weakness, she looked like an employee whose work deserved more than her current paygrade. “I think they’re in the greenhouse. This way, please.”

A walk through some corridors and long-winding hallways plus a trip in the elevators is how Ignis finds out the Royal family likes to keep a make-shift greenhouse on one of the upper levels. The corner of the southeast tower is made entirely of glass with just enough steel for structural support, and he tries his hardest to keep to the gravel path and avoid stepping on the overgrowth and crawling leaves. 

He also meets both King and Prince in very casual attire and elbows deep in damp soil. King Regis’ white shirt has probably seen better, crisper days and without dirt stains, and Ignis never thought he’d see His Majesty wearing tan cargo shorts surrounded by bags of dirt and half-potted plants. 

The same goes to Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum, who wears black sweats and a loose fitting tank top wet with either sweat or water or both, his hair losing whatever styling that’s been done to it. There’s dirt on his cheek, and Ignis has enough sense to not offer his handkerchief. 

Ignis had kept an open mind to how their first impressions would go, though he expected at least a formal audience in the throne room, but meeting a literally dirty prince struggling with a trowel and ripping straight through a bag of soil was not a scenario he accounted for. As the bag falls apart and the soil with it, accompanied by an amused King Regis at the expense of his son’s mishap, so does Ignis’ handful of plans on what-if’s and how-to’s. 

News outlets and tabloids, despite the exaggerations and far-off conspiracies, hold at least a modicum of truth; every rumor has to start off with some sort of foundation based on fact, after all. The media is a ravenous thing, always looking for the next big scoop, and Prince Noctis had been a treasure trove for the entertainment industry for the past year, ever since His Majesty declared his hand was available for marriage. 

An Omega prince, easy for anyone with a sliver of sensibility and a decent amount of charm to woo. Meek and mild, soft and ripe for an Alpha’s taking; a bit shy, but that’s just the allure of a shrinking violet, ready to bloom in all his brilliance once he found his dearest betrothed, they all said. Something of a recluse, ever since the daemon attack that traumatized the poor thing, with only the rare appearance on official holidays and always with his guards at the ready. And whenever Prince Noctis did appear in public, oh how the cameras would shutter, snapping like the ravenous teeth of the paparazzi. Articles would sing with praise of how handsome and fine the young heir had become, or go on tangents on his fair skin “from keeping himself within the Citadel’s safe walls, ever since the tragic daemon attack that almost took our young Prince’s life.”  

He was the rendition of the tragic beauty in those popular novels Ignis’ aunts raved about. 

Except, looking at him now, this soft boy the world claimed him to be, Ignis thought him anything but. He’s dirty, covered in grime and dust and with an easy grin plastered onto his face, his hair sticking every which way it can with sprinklings of what look to be seeds, and Ignis sees the faint beginnings of tan lines around his shoulders where his tank top doesn’t cover. 

The guide clears her throat, earning a quick snap of their eyes, Prince Noctis looking up from his hands where he was salvaging the spilled soil, King Regis from his son. 

“Your Majesty, Your Highness,” she says calmly, but Ignis is sure he hears that barest hint of reprimand in her tone. “I present Ignis Scientia.”

On reflex, he places a hand over his chest and bows from the waist up. 

“That was today?” both King and Prince say in unison. 

Ignis won’t lie, that stings a bit. He didn’t expect fanfare or any grand announcement of his arrival, but to be forgotten so easily… Well, at least he has thick skin. 

His guide, though, at least channels some of his sentiments through a huff of exasperation. “ Yes, it was. ”

Ignis straightens up to see Prince Noctis looking not even a fraction guilty, though his father has the decency to appear apologetic — if only just a little. Regis offers his condolences, speaking something of time slipping away and how distractions came into play, but Ignis doesn’t hear much of it with how all his attention zeroes in on the younger Caelum. 

By all means, Prince Noctis should be looking more like a labor worker with the dirt and sweat smeared all over him, but there is no denying the charm and fine features he sports; there is something exquisite beneath that layer of grime, a certain allure no luxury beauty cream or high-end perfume could ever hope to replicate. That always belonged to the royal houses of Eos, and it could very well be a testament to his long-running pedigree. Despite the scents of soil and flowers and fertilizer, Ignis can catch the distinct aroma of an Omega — soft but subtle and surprisingly comforting. 

Even King Regis, despite the drain of the Crystal and his graying hair, that looks more like finely spun platinum, has aged like fine Tenebraean wine and still looks absolutely regal despite his questionable attire. 

Just. 

The near predatory gaze Prince Noctis criticizes Ignis with is unnerving. That sharp eye and oppressing aura, the commanding presence that demands and orders with sharp teeth and fire, all belongs to an Alpha and not to an Omega who apparently likes to garden in his free time. (The gardening part makes sense, something out of sprucing up a home, a nod toward domesticity and all that.)

Immediately he thinks his brain must be playing tricks on him. There's another Alpha here, sizing him up and seeing if he's suitable to court the Prince, somewhere hidden within all the green and glass. No way this soft and timid Omega is putting such pressure out, setting him on edge as if a threat lurks just around the corner. But no matter how hard he tries, Ignis can't scent another Alpha out. 

He barely catches the last of the King’s rules, the guidelines under which Ignis is allowed to court the Prince. 

“…One calendar month. Your room, while not within the same hallway, will be on the same floor as my son’s. Monica will take you to your quarters to familiarize yourself, but you are free to help yourself to whatever amenities afterwards.”  

Ignis is sure the “amenities” do not include secret vaults and restricted areas and that there will be guards lurking around every corner to keep eyes on him. He has nothing to hide, though, and no interest in deep dark family secrets to sniff out and sell to the press or hold as blackmail against the King himself. 

He hopes he wasn’t caught staring like an arba in headlights and bows once more toward the King, then to the Prince, and utters his sincerest thanks for the opportunity and accommodations. 

Yet even as he leaves, the skin of his neck prickles under that same cutting gaze, feeling the threat of broken glass aimed at his turned back and ready to strike at his vital points. He half expects a sword to run itself through him, but nothing ever comes. All he hears is the crinkle of that soil bag and the scrape of a trowel. 

His guide — named Monica, it seems — takes him to the elevators once more and they rise a few more levels up. When she drops him off to his assigned room, he wonders where on this floor the Prince must live in but clamps his mouth shut before he has the chance to ask. If he was privy to that information, he’s sure that would have been mentioned. So he shares a word of gratitude to Monica at the door, closes it behind him, and sinks into the oversized armchair by the decorative fireplace. 

It's early spring, but he thinks to toss in a few logs and light it up, just to melt the lingering chill of that gaze he still feels. When he strikes the match and coaxes the embers to life, and the goosebumps on his skin have yet to settle, he dares a conjecture: that the reason the twenty-four suitors failed laid not in any shortcomings of their own but in some aspect of the Prince himself. 

   Ignis spent his first day familiarizing himself with the Citadel, or at least, the few levels above and below him. He never gave much thought to how or why they needed so many floors and four towering skyscrapers to do whatever business they do, but after having caught a glimpse of just what happens within these gilded walls, he has a sort of understanding. Much of the staff, he learned, live within the Citadel — from the maids and cooks to guards and secretaries. 

There’s also an entire floor dedicated to just office cubicles. He had immediately pressed for the lobby when his elevator doors opened to reveal the hectic mania of flying documents and screaming office phones and the sound of at least five keyboards breaking simultaneously. It had been a painting of utter chaos and coffee mugs being chucked over dividers and across printing machines, and never faster had Ignis nope’d out of a place before. 

So after spending the first day avoiding the Prince, he isn’t surprised when a manservant knocks at his door, delivering an invitation to join His Highness for some light brunch. He accepts, because who is he to refuse royalty?

When he steps inside, a corner room with a fantastic view of the kingdom below, the hairs on his neck go rigid and cold under that familiar pressure. He feels that look again, that oppressive gaze of a lion sizing up a rabbit, and Ignis tries his best to keep his wits about him. His Alpha brain wants to snap back, to curl his lips and bare his fangs right back, to demand his due respect because who dares to size him up and challenge him. But before his instincts go too far, he pummels them back down with a hammer. There’s no other Alpha here, Ignis reminds himself. 

Just an Omega prince.

Which, really, isn’t any better. Because Prince Noctis is staring right at him, unflinching and unblinking, his hands waiting neatly in his lap. There’s nothing to read from his expression, as blank and indifferent as it looks; but besides the weight he fills the room with, there is something ominous in his unrelenting watch. 

Either Ignis spends too much time grasping at his thoughts or the Prince doesn’t like him just dawdling at the doorway, but whichever it is, it’s enough to get him to speak. “Sit down, don’t just stand there.” 

It’s as good as an order as any, but there’s no bite to his tone where Ignis expected one.

He sits across from him, and tries his best at normalcy. “Prince Noctis, thank you for the invitation.”

“It’s the least I could do, especially after yesterday. Like dad said, we lost track of time.”

Prince Noctis finally drops his eyes to survey the dishes spread on the table, much to Ignis’ relief. The tension dissipates as soon as he picks up a fork to push his food around, neatly separating his eggs from the edge of a french toast. 

Ignis takes that as his cue to follow, and he cuts his knife through an eggs benedict. They both take their first bites in silence, nothing but quiet chewing and soft clinks of silverware and glass, but he’ll take it over the smothering and suffocating pressure from earlier. (What even is that anyway? Did he somehow manage to piss off His Highness already? Gods.)

Yet he’s the first one to break the silence.. “This sauce is delightful. I wonder if I could weasel the recipe out of the chefs.”

“Oh, so you cook?”

Ignis expected a bored hum of acknowledgment or anything less than even that, so he’s pleasantly surprised to hear the interest in Prince Noctis’ voice. He glances up and sees His Highness looking right at him, and for a brief moment, he expects that same soul-piercing weight to drill right through. This time, there’s nothing but genuine curiosity — no bite or guarded edge accompanying. He also notices the air in the room has gotten lighter. 

Huh.

Ignis wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he takes the opportunity for what it is and tries to keep this new flow going. “Yes, though I’m particularly fond of baking.”

“You bake?”

If the Prince looked curious before, he now looks almost impressed. There’s the smallest semblance of a smile peeking out, the corner of his mouth tilting ever so slightly upward, maybe out of amusement. Or out of incredulity. Ignis doesn’t know.

“Yes. It may seem odd. An Alpha who enjoys domestic things like baking. I enjoy learning new recipes, the satisfaction of trying a new dish, the smell of spices and sweets and whatnot. Quite relaxing.”

Certainly, there are Alphas who make for culinary geniuses, who have their five-star restaurants or television shows. The top dogs of fine cuisine. But an Alpha who likes to dawdle in the kitchen as a simple hobby? Ignis has been teased for it more times than he could count, even his mother and father poking lighthearted jabs at him whenever they found him nestled in front of the stove. He almost expects the same from the Prince, but his reaction so far has Ignis hoping otherwise. 

“Funny,” Noctis says, this time revealing a full and warm smile. His eyes crinkle at its corners, and Ignis wants to believe it’s from a genuine smile and not from some practiced sincerity. “I’m not that great in the kitchen. Can make some decent eggs and pancakes, throw store bought cookies in the oven if I’m feeling it. Just not really into it.”

“One can’t be a master of everything, Your Highness. You seem to have picked up gardening, however?”

“Gardening? Not at all, that’s dad’s shtick. I was just helping.”

“Oh.”

“I like to get more down and dirty.” 

Ignis almost chokes on his eggs, but as quickly as he catches himself, he doesn’t escape the amused tilt of the Prince’s brow. His Highness doesn’t say anything more on that topic, but Ignis knows it’ll surely come up again. He isn’t sure whether to take it as it is or as an innuendo; he’s not even sure which one he’d prefer it to be.

“And just call me Noctis, by the way.”

   Turns out, Noctis’ words are more literal than Ignis would ever imagine them to be because the next day, he’s fetched for again and guided outside to the training fields. He sees Prince Noctis standing in the middle, facing a uniformed Glaive.

Ignis can’t help but look on in sheer terror as Noctis flies across the training yard and skids his back against the dirt and gravel. But he hops right back up like a champion, sparing just a second to spit out blood and dust onto the hard ground, and brandishes his training sword before chucking it at the Glaive. He fizzles out of reality the second his sword leaves his hands, and Ignis thinks he can see the ghostly blue trail after the blade. When Ignis blinks, he sees Noctis popping back into existence, pressing his sword against his opponent’s kukris in a showdown of strength. 

There’s a short stare-off, each of them grounding their feet into the dirt and shoving their weapons into one another, pushing the limit to see who breaks their stance first. Ignis watches with bated breath, hands clenching the arms of his plastic lawn chair, and he leans forward in his seat in suspense. 

His Majesty, flanked by Clarus Amicitia and Cor Leonis, quietly sips on his mimosa and looks far more peachy than a father watching his Omega son brawl against a deadly Alpha should look. The Immortal and Shield don’t even bat an eye, simply trading swigs from a dark beer they pass off to each other. 

“Money’s on junior,” Cor says, handing the now half-empty bottle to Clarus. 

“O-ho, someone changed their tune from last week.”

“What can I say? His Highness kicked that Luche fellow to the bleachers.”

“Fair enough. Guess I’ll bet on Ulric.”

King Regis clears his throat, and looks every ounce of a proud father watching his boy beat the ever living shit out of a soldier. “I’ll pretend I don’t hear you two making bets over my dear son.”

“Oh, please, don’t act like you didn’t rake in some pocket money over that training session.” Clarus lightly clinks his beer against King Regis' drink, appraising him with an upward quirk of his brow. 

His Majesty retaliates by snatching the bottle out of his Shield's hand and downing the rest of it in one go. Cor Leonis huffs out a laugh while Clarus Amicitia huffs out a grumble. 

But Ignis Scientia only feels faint. 

And, well, shamefully turned on. He isn’t sure how to process that. Bearing witness to an Omega who could actually kick his ass and make him eat dirt should terrify him. His whole life, he believed Noctis to be some frail prince made of spun glass — beautiful and delicate, showcased through rare snapshots and surrounded with all manners of security. 

He and the entire world grew up on the idea of a sweet and quiet boy, but watching Noctis narrowly avoid a boot to his face and counter with a lance to Ulric’s ass — where did that lance even come from? — it’s safe to say they were all fed damn lies. 

Noctis rips through the very fabric of space, tearing its seams and bursting them into bright blue ashes, looking all so alive like the flames burning in him. Or maybe that’s the actual fire spreading across the ground when he lobbed that glowing magic sphere. 

“Cheater!” Nyx yells, hopping away from the dying fire spell. “No magic!”

“Screw the rules, I’m royalty!”

Noctis laughs, vibrant and full, and he chases after the man in bursts of blue and white. He’s dirty and battered, covered in sweat and scratches, and no doubt he’ll have more than just a few bruises to show for; but Ignis thinks he looks radiant, here in the open air and in tattered clothes no prince should be caught wearing. 

Ignis isn’t sure what it is, but something clicks and the pieces quietly fall together as he watches the dance of steel and magic race across the field. He imagines all the suitors before him, bearing gifts of flowers and perfumes to lay at Noctis’ feet. They treat him delicately, just how society tells them how Omegas out to be handled, and try to carry him like a priceless Faberge egg — dressed in jewels and gold so soft he’d scratch at the lightest touch. They talk of nothing but drab things, perhaps politics and alliances if they’re bold enough, and domestic things a coddled prince might like. Tame hobbies and crafts, sewing or golf and the like. 

And he imagines Noctis looking absolutely bored out of his mind, listening to haughty Alphas speaking of their accomplishments and trophies and useless promises that are ultimately empty in the end. As a test or maybe out of his own amusement, Noctis brings them out just like this, to shock or awe, to show he’ll have none of their cooing nonsense. And the results? Ignis can think of a few. The “Alpha” Alpha, horrified and angered at the lack of modicum, refuses to marry an Omega who does not know his place. The “White Knight” Alpha who jumps to his poor Prince’s rescue, demands to fight in his stead and protect him from all harm (only to have his own rear handed to him). And of course, all the confused ones who have no idea what to make of the situation and decide to just leave. 

Ignis doesn’t realize the spar is over until the Kingsglaive Captain blows his whistle, and the sharp shrill and the hoots of onlookers pulls his mind back to the field. Noctis has Nyx Ulric pinned to the dirt, straddling his chest and holding a kukri to the man’s neck. Ignis thinks he’s won, until he sees the Glaive holding the broken blade of a sword at Noctis’ heart as well. 

Titus Drautos announces a tie, and they both drop their weapons as a result. Noctis rolls off and onto his back, chest heaving as he desperately sucks in air, and splays his arms out on either side of him. A hand hits Ulric in the face as he stretches out, but the man doesn’t complain and only has the strength to focus on his own breathing as well. Off on the side, Ignis sees trainees and guards pass coin around, having made bets of their own, the disgruntled losers paying their toll to the triumphant winners. 

When Noctis lolls his head over to look at King Regis, he flashes a tired but satisfied grin. Ignis isn’t sure what sort of expression His Majesty makes — he’s sure it’s of approval judging by the warm chuckle he hears — since his eyes are glued to just how radiant the battered Prince looks. Noctis looks utterly at home and in comfort, covered in dirt and sweat and bruises. Ignis has only seen tabloid snapshots that depict him as some melancholy little boy, scared of the world and quiet in his loneliness. 

Noctis looks far more lovely like this, he thinks, looking exhausted but alive and happy. Ignis gives him a weak thumbs up when he looks his way, and he ignores the extra little thump of his heart when he hears Noctis laugh for the first time. 

   “The Kingsglaive is made up of all Alphas.”

It comes out of the blue, when they sit for some tea in the outer garden. They had been talking of Altissia — Ignis of his summer vacation spent with his nose in their recipe books and mouth on a tasting spoon, Noctis of his diplomatic trip with his father to discuss new trade routes with the madame secretary — when he washes down a sweet biscuit with a sip of black tea to suddenly utter the fact. 

Ignis never gave it any thought, but it certainly makes sense to him. Alphas, the “stronger” gender, the protectors and hunters since the days of old. Perhaps some Betas could make it within their ranks, but having an all-Alpha unit isn’t beyond reason. He humors Noctis and takes the bait. “And you are sharing this with me because…?”

“Guess why.”

“Alphas are the warriors, the fighters. Or so goes the rules.”

“Or so goes the rules.”

“Well, you’ve proven that some of these rules can be broken. And I like to believe you aren’t the sole anomaly in the entirety of Eos.” 

Only two weeks since he’s started his courting, and he’s learned more about Noctis than he ever thought possible. The Prince is… eccentric, to put it. He’s something of an innocent brat, childish in that he’ll push and prod at his dinner vegetables but responsible where it counts. More than once he’s sought out Ignis for some excuse in favor of running away from papers and documents in want of his reading and signature, but he’ll promptly excuse himself to resume his duties once he finds his time is up. 

His cooking skills are rather poor, as he’s once stated himself, and if left on his own, Ignis thinks his diet would end up disastrous. During a midnight hour, he once found Noctis sitting on the floor of a kitchen scooping peanut butter directly out of the jar and onto some tortilla chips like a little gremlin child. Yet his one saving grace is his skills with fish; he has his own set of recipes Ignis has never tried before. Recipes he quickly jotted down when Noctis invited him to a private lake, where he rolled up his pants and dipped his feet into the water, casting his fishing line off the low pier. 

One would think a posh prince would rather be caught dead than wade through the murky waters of an old lake to pull out a three-foot fish, flapping and splashing and with slimy scales. Or that he’d rather read and write in his air-conditioned study instead of joining the royal guards and glaives in their training regiments, preferring to keep his manicured hands soft and clean instead of calloused and bruised. 

Ignis knows he must have said something right, and he keeps his self-preening to the minimum when Noctis grins. It’s slow like the rising beat of drums leading up to a grand reveal, and he certainly gets a prize when the smile parts for a bark of that laughter again. He wonders if the twenty-four suitors before him ever got the chance to hear it. 

“You,” Noctis says, lifting his cup in a toast to Ignis, “know how to flatter, don’t you? Playing all your cards right.”

Ignis wants to interject and explain his words weren’t as planned as Noctis thinks them to be; he only said what was in his mind, not stringing words together to garner any favor. But before he has the chance, Noctis steers the conversation away as do people of his rank do, eloquently enough that Ignis forgets what they had been talking about in the first place. 

It’s when he gets ready for bed, staring in the bathroom mirror as he brushes his teeth, that he realizes Noctis never really answered his question. He’ll breach that topic come the morning, should he remember to, but sleep comes easy and far too quickly before he can pin the idea to the corkboard of his mind.  

He wakes bright and early, and it turns out he doesn't need to remember. Noctis waits for him at the Citadel steps, leaning against the driver side of the famous Star of Lucis, an absolute gorgeous work of art and taking after its name, and he looks up from his phone to flag down Ignis. 

"What's the occasion?" Ignis asks, strapping his seat belt in. 

"Gonna show you something interesting."

That "something" turns out to be somewhere in the Kingsglaive headquarters. Ignis' nose twitches at the heavy scent in the air, the unmistakable cologne of Alpha that permeates through every wall and floor of the grand building. Noctis, though, seems perfectly at home and saunters on through, occasionally slowing to wave or pass a word or two to some friendly Glaives. A few even stop to say hello to Ignis, and he greets them in turn. 

"Do you feel that?" Noctis asks, guiding them down a corridor. 

And Ignis does. The closer they get, the more it speeds towards him like a train barreling down the track to run him over. It’s oppressive, heavy and hostile but tragic above all; he can almost taste the anguish in the air. 

It’s the pheromones of a full-blown Alpha’s rut. Not just one Alpha but at least a dozen he realizes as Noctis pushes open the double doors of the medical bay. 

Sirens go off in his head, fearing for the Omega’s safety among a pack of Alphas, and he jerks his eyes over to Noctis only to see him wear a face of utter determination and eyes of sympathy. Ignis keeps his mouth shut and his hands to himself, fighting the urge to grab Noctis and run out of there, as he reminds himself just who this young prince is and what he’s capable of. He’s seen Noctis train and fight against the Kingsglaive themselves, and Noctis carries himself with such confidence and faith that Ignis chooses to believe in him as well. 

“The Kingsglaive are all Alphas,” Noctis says, and Ignis remembers their talk from yesterday, “because they get the worst of it.”

At the sound of his voice, all eyes hone in on Noctis. Ignis expects that voracious, insatiable hunger to overtake them; but while there is hunger, it is a hunger for comfort, like that of a child frightened by a nightmare seeking the safety of its parents. There are whispers, soft pleas of woe and heartbreak, that even chip away at Ignis’ own heart. 

Noctis sits by the closest bed, where a man covered in sweat curls in on himself, fists clenching and unclenching the rough sheets. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re okay, you’re safe. ”

And as Noctis coos and holds the Glaive’s hand, a thumb softly stroking over his fingers, Ignis feels the air shift and turn, the stormy weight of the Alphas dispersing like morning mist. A different scent overtakes the entire stretch of the bay — if not the entire floor of headquarters — and even Ignis falls prey to the lulling warmth that covers him, akin to an anxiety blanket hugging itself around his shoulders. He feels… protected, strangely enough. It takes him a moment too long to discover this scent is undeniably Noctis’. 

Ignis breaks himself out of the trance and blinks himself awake, and he catches the glance Noctis takes at him. Maybe it’s the fluorescent lights and the haze of pheromones, but he almost looks glowing. Literally.

“A lot of them are still traumatised, seeing their friends and family killed and their homes overrun. And the hormones just make the nightmares all the more real to them, and they’re forced to relive those memories again. It’s shitty, but we can at least help them through it.” 

Noctis explains, in a quiet voice as to not disturb the Glaives, how the ruts and hormones make for not only a violent mix but a tragic one. How they work as triggers, unearthing their darkest memories and forcing them to suffer through the pain of death and loss. How King Regis, founder of the force known as the Kingsglaive, discovered the side-effects of acting as a conduit and sharing the royal family’s magic with this small army. How both father and son could serve their soldiers in turn for their loyalty and sacrifices. 

“We protect them just as much as they protect us. It’s a king’s duty to look after his people, even soldiers — especially soldiers.” 

It’s an hour later, Noctis driving them back to the Citadel and in the privacy of the car, when he explains why he breached the subject and the reason for the field trip. He looks almost forlorn, not for himself but for the Glaives suffering through their inner demons. 

“Dad shares his powers with the Kingsglaive, every single one of them. We’re not really sure about the details, but through some weird Crystal magic voodoo, he sort of has this… ‘pseudo’ bond with them.” He waves a hand in the air, making some wishy-washy gesture but makes sure to keep his other hand steady on the wheel. Even if the unmistakable Star belongs to one Prince, royalty must obey traffic laws. “It’s not really an Omega-Alpha bond, but some of it’s the same. That’s how he’s able to keep them from diving too far into their ruts or bring them out of their dark spaces. And sometimes when it gets too much, I can come in.” 

But it’s when he reaches a red traffic light that he wrinkles his nose in contempt, making a face as if he just downed a too bitter cough syrup. “A couple suitors didn’t like that idea, of the king sharing this link with all of them. I’ll be king someday and take on that responsibility, but I guess they wanted me to be one hundred percent exclusive or something.”    

“I think it’s admirable.” Ignis didn’t really mean to say it aloud, not until he saw Noctis’ sour expression and decided he deserved to hear it. He didn’t even think he himself deserved to see all that had happened, to witness how almost intimate the picture Noctis and the Glaives painted. The suitors before him must all be fools then, to think about selfish desires toward a softhearted (yet strongwilled) Prince on the cusp of adulthood. 

“Do you? Thanks, Ignis, really.”

Ignis says nothing about the sliver of vulnerability in that tone and merely hums in acknowledgment. He wonders, during their quiet drive back, if his initial theory was wrong. If the reason for so many suitors turned and rejected wasn’t actually because of the Prince after all, but because the twenty-four before him couldn’t see past what society has fed them and the conventionalization of an Omega prince. 

‘Idiots, ’ he thinks to himself, ‘and I thought myself blind with how strong my glasses must be.’

   “For the love of the gods, would you kindly please stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“You know very well what I mean. That pressure you regard me with, akin to an Alpha challenging for his territory. As if you’ll eat me alive before you even bother to skin me first! Do you know what that does to my instincts? How they scream at me to retaliate and brawl? I am practically battling myself for my own control, and it is an uphill battle I assure you.” 

Noctis only offers a grin, infuriatingly wide and amused.

All Ignis had been doing was admiring the royal library, particularly their impressive collection of classic literature, minding his own business and perusing the back cover of an anthology, when Noctis came strolling in. He arrived near silently, save for the footsteps that made a beeline toward Ignis with such precision, as if the towering bookshelves may as well be invisible. 

It would have been fine, except for that suffocating aura Noctis sent out, filling the air with the presence of a hunter searching for its target. The target being Ignis, of course. 

“So you finally mentioned it. I was wondering when you’d finally say something.” Noctis tilts his head, looking the picture of innocence when he's actually guilty of everything. 

Ignis shuts the book with such force that it resounds off the library walls, and he shoves it back into its proper space on the shelf. He plucks his glasses off and pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he sucks in a deep breath then slowly exhales; when he opens his eyes, he sees Noctis still sporting his shit-eating grin. 

“Are you satisfied now? To know you’ve riled me up so,” Ignis sighs, putting his glasses back on. “Honestly, I don’t know what to make of it. Have I done something to earn your ire? Do you abhor the idea of courtship so much you’d like to scare me off instead? I may not have the finest qualifications to try for your hand, but I daresay my company hasn’t been all that unpleasant —”

“Woah, woah. Slow down there, Ignis.” Noctis lifts his hands in a gesture of appeasement, though the little laugh in his voice almost makes Ignis think otherwise. “Sorry to say this, but I was genuinely wondering how’d you react. All my suitors kept getting paranoid, wondering if my Shield was hiding around the corner and secretly threatening them, or maybe I really wasn’t an Omega after all. Some of them got really snappy, almost violent. But you pretty much rolled with it until now. I’m surprised you lasted this long.” 

A test, then. Noctis posed him with a test, and Ignis must have failed with his reaction. He’s already thinking of the things he’ll need to pack and how he’ll get his laundry the morning maids took the liberty of washing, but above all he can’t help but feel the disappointment rising in his chest. He rather liked Noctis’ company and all the quirks and habits that comes with him, each a new little fun surprise to learn and appreciate. 

“But anyway, I think you’re plenty qualified, so don’t knock yourself out just yet, silly.” Then, Noctis places a hand on his arm. If his words didn’t pull Ignis back, then that touch certainly does. His eyes are warm, no sign of dismissal or frown of disapproval to betray his consolation. 

“I… Pardon?” Ignis silently curses the way his voice goes just a bit weak. 

“I said I like having you around.”

“Oh.”

Well, crisis averted, he supposes. But it’s only after another laugh when an attendant fetches Noctis at the King’s request and leaves, that Ignis realizes the weight of the Prince’s words: he liked having Ignis around. 

   Ignis learns a lot during his one month stay. He feels like it’s all sacred knowledge to be kept within the Citadel vaults, yet a revelation the entirety of Eos should have the decency of knowing. 

Noctis isn’t a fragile Omega waiting for his dashing Alpha to sweep him off his feet, to promise him loyalty and devotion and a lifetime of protection. Because one, Noctis already has all that. He has the love and allegiance of his friends, the cooing and awwing of an entire kingdom, and a special military force that will risk life and limb to keep him and his father safe. And two, Ignis is sure Noctis can make any Alpha tuck their tail in between their legs and run for the hills; he's an absolute war machine even without the kingdom's special forces. 

Ignis clicks the locks of his suitcase and sighs, looking dejected at the band around his finger. He’ll have to return it, now that his month-long trial is over and both King and Prince have said nothing of further courting. He honestly enjoyed his time at the Citadel, learning and even laughing with the Prince and discovering some of the quirks that make him unique. At the very least, Noctis has given him a new perspective to regard Omegas with. Broaden his horizons, even. 

He isn’t bitter, but he’ll miss it. Miss what exactly, though, he can’t say. He knows it’s not the luxuries the palace lifestyle affords him, but rather something of Noctis. Perhaps he’ll miss the company, his frame of mind and the way he ticks. Or maybe — just maybe — this particular fondness Ignis has only recently acknowledged. He doesn’t want to say it’s love, but it’s certainly something that could bloom given time and nurture. 

Well, better to nip it now before it takes root. 

Ignis is on his way to the throne room, to give his respects to the King and thank him for the opportunity, but he halts in his tracks when he sees His Majesty make his way toward him. Noctis trails after him but picks up the pace when he spots Ignis, and his bright smile tugs at Ignis' heart in the most bittersweet way. A shame he won't be able to see it anymore. 

"Your Majesty, Your Highness," Ignis greets, lightly bowing to them both. He slips the ring from his middle finger and presents for Noctis to take back, trying to not mind the feeling of absence it leaves behind. "My month is over, but I am greatly honored and humbled for the time I was given. It is my sincerest wish His Highness finds his future consort, and I hope for nothing but happiness to you and your dearest."

King Regis looks… almost confused. He regards the ring as if it's some foreign object and he has no idea what to do with it. But then, he looks over to Noctis and heaves a long-suffering sigh.

"Son," he says, shaking his head, "You were to tell him yesterday." 

"I forgot! I mean, I was going to but I got distracted and Prompto came over with the newest Flame Insignia and I've been dying to play it." 

King Regis actually rolls his eyes at that, much to Noctis' frustration it appears. But Ignis is too distracted about this thing he was apparently supposed to be told yesterday to really acknowledge that King Regis rolled his eyes. 

Noctis, at least, catches on and quickly fumbles to take the ring from Ignis, but he keeps a hold on his hand. 

"This month was great, Ignis. This might be a low bar of expectation, but I just needed to be sure you weren't some arrogant asshole. And congratulations! You passed." He says it so naturally, as if he’s passing off some paper certificate and not say, recognition as a possible future consort. 

Ignis, suddenly, feels very weak in the knees, and he suspects he's only able to keep standing through Noctis' light hand on his, which is slowly and deliberately turning and searching for Ignis' ring finger. He tries to ground himself, focusing on the warmth of Noctis' hand and the genuine smile that dazzles like stardust, and not on the heavy thud of his own heart beating in his ears. 

It's a dream, he foolishly thinks. He's still sleeping and loathing the morning he'll have to prepare for his return home, and sad enough that he conjures a fantastical dream. But everything is too real for this to be a trick of his mind. He sees King Regis standing behind Noctis, every gleam and glint of his polished buttons and chains, and the warmth in his eyes and the smile of a doting father, and Ignis knows he can’t be making that up. 

And Noctis, cheeks tinted just a soft dust of pink, lips pulled in a soft and slightly embarrassed smile, looks up at him with such hope in his eyes it almost hurts Ignis. When he finds that ring finger, he carefully slides the ring back on — the same ring that once sat on Ignis’ middle finger and marked him as a candidate. The same ring Ignis, only a moment ago, returned to the Prince because he believed his time was up and the next suitor would arrive shortly. 

"You spent a month courting me. Now it's my turn to court you," Noctis says, as if Ignis would ever say no, "So what do you say, Ignis Scientia? Will you accept?" 

Yet another loop Ignis is tossed into. Alphas court, not Omegas. But he should have expected as much from Noctis and his family's quaint traditions. He knows there will be more surprises down the road, more breaking of worldviews and making of new ones, but Ignis wouldn't have it any other way. 

"But of course."

"Great, how about a fishing date?" 

"Only if you guide me through one of your recipes." 

He finalizes their terms by bringing Noctis' hand to his lips, lightly ghosting a kiss across his knuckles, and his Prince smiles just a bit wider at it. In the background, he hears King Regis mutter, in fondness, something about finally finding someone after all this time, before walking off and leaving them be. 

"Deal."

[dreamangel-ren]

FFXIV April Fools Joke Expanded

I shall call it FFXIV AU: Eorzea Academy

So, after seeing the April Fool’s Day joke about our beloved FFXIV characters attending to high school, I got heavily inspired and add a bit of my magic to this wonderful idea. NOTE: This is all pure headcanon so that means it is NOT to be taken literally! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, then stop reading now!

Still here? Okay here we go:

-Of course, my Warrior of Light is the star of the show! - Ren Kurosaki attends to the school as a new student. The school’s first impression of her is that she’s wild and mysterious. On her first day, she stopped bullies from picking on a fellow student. Many are trying to figure out if she’s even eligible to attend to Eorzea Academy since her documents contained vague information. -Ren lives by herself; she goes from being a bard to going on extravagant quests to maintain financial security. At times, she receives aid from fellow neighbors when times get too hectic. - Appearance: Long wavy brown hair with hair clips on the side of her bangs. She always has her sleeves rolled up to her elbows; she gets lectured by the teachers to have her sleeves worn properly. She wears a bracelet on her left wrist. Her choice for socks is the mid-thigh high ones. -She excels in archery, white and black magic (RDM), and dancing; she wishes to get better with ninjutsu, weaving, and cooking. She’s terrible with tanking and she gets nervous when practicing healing.

- Some teachers don’t approve with Ren’s behavior because she ends up breaking the school’s rules, but for a good cause: to help make Eorzea Academy a more comfortable and fun environment for the students. Some consider her the Warrior of Light because of her good deeds while some consider her the Warrior of Darkness because she only makes things worse. With Eorzea Academy being a very prestigious school, students go there mostly tensed because they don’t want to disappoint their superiors. -Ren does have a harem, but there can only be one! (Yup, it’s a shoujo kind of story fellas). The Remaining Cast: Yotsuyu: The president of the student council and the Queen Bee of Eorzea Academy; many students would do anything for her because of her undeniable beauty. She uses her power to pretty much manipulate the entire school for her amusement and a few students hate her for this reason. With Ren in the picture, Yotsuyu is worried that she will lose her position to the new student so, she’s bound and determined to wreck Ren’s reputation. Aymeric: The vice president of the student council, head of the Heavensward Elite, and one of the wealthiest students of the school. He is also known as the lady’s man because most girls want to date him (he even has his own fanclub). However, some believe that him and Yotsuyu are dating because they are the most attractive duo. Yotsuyu loves Aymeric and already confirms to everyone that they are in a relationship, but the young lord on the other hand doesn’t feel the same way; he doesn’t like how Yotsuyu treats the other students. When Ren arrives to the scene, he takes interest because he admires her free spirit and her endless service to the school. Estinien: Aymeric’s best friend and part of the Heavensward Elite (along with Aymeric, Haurchefant, and Ysayle). The typical strong silent type of the bunch, Estinien always look out for his best friend because he knows that there are sharks out to get Aymeric because of his reputation and some would try to take advantage of his kindness. He has secret feelings for Ysayle. As for Ren, he doesn’t quite get her, but he comes around to help her when he feels like it.

Haurchefant: Another member of the Heavesnward Elite and everyone’s best friend; this boy is very popular among the students because of his big heart. Furthermore, he holds high status since his family, The Fortemps, are one of the founders of the school. He would help any student in need even if they didn’t ask for his help. He meets Ren and instantly develops a huge crush on her which later turns to love. Every chance he gets, he tries let Ren know his feelings; however, she’s oblivious to them. Despite this, he protects her from Yotsuyu’s evil schemes and supports her to the ends of the Earth.

Ysayle: The only female of the Heavensward Elite and highly respected to all students due to her passion in the school and students. She kinda bumps heads with Ren because Ysayle usually goes by the book and disapproves Ren’s rebellious nature. Many strongly believe that Ysayle should’ve taken the role of president of the student council. While her reasons for not accepting the position are unknown, they come to her for guidance. Yotsuyu can’t stand her because the students adore her; so, she started a rumor about Ysayle tempering other students to follow her which folks gave her the nickname Shiva, the Ice Queen. Zenos: A transfer student who attends to Eorzea Academy and students are afraid of him. With him being a crown prince from a different country, students believe that he would put Yotsuyu to shame, but they don’t want him to take control because he would make everyone’s life a living hell. Noticing the student’s fear towards him, Yotsuyu wants Zenos to join forces with her to bring Ren down. At first, Zenos didn’t agree to the plan because he didn’t care; however, after a few encounters with the student, he slowly changes his mind and he grows an obsession with Ren. Asahi: Zeno’s bodyguard who also attends to the school. He has strong admiration for the crown prince of Garlemald and anyone who challenges his master must deal with him. Upon learning that his step sister, Yotsuyu is the student body president, he’s determined to bring her down so he can give the title to Zenos. However, completing that mission will be difficult after he learns that his master has interest in Ren; the Doman boy refuses to let the new student take his beloved master away from him.

Alphinaud: The boy whom Ren rescues on the first day of school from bullying which later they become close friends (Ren sees him as a little brother that must ALWAYS be protected). He’s one of Eorzea High’s best students (alongside his sister, Alisaie). Although he’s an excellent student, Alphy at times have issues with his self-esteem because he gets bullied for being soft. Estinien becomes his senpai as he teaches him to man up. Alisaie: Alphinaud’s twin sister and one of Eorzea High’s best students (alongside her brother, Alphinaud). She constantly teases her brother about mostly everything; however deep within, she envies Alphy because he has done so much that impacted the school while she is left in the background. She looks up to Ren and wishes someday to be just as strong as her so she can protect her dear brother.

Thancred: Ren’s ex-boyfriend. When Ren made her arrival to Eorzea, she didn’t know her way around until she met him; he helped her get settled into the realm and began her small career as a bard. They were together for awhile until Ren dumped him after discovering that he still had feelings for one of his previous lovers.

Hien: Another transfer student, but from the Far East who happens to be the prince of Doma. Hien gathers a lot of attention from many students due to his charismatic personality. After hearing about Hien’s skillful swordsmanship as a samurai, Ren challenged Hien to a match. Both sides made a bet if one loses, they must tell their darkest secret. Although, the match ended in a draw, they praised each other’s skills and became friends. Lyse: Although she doesn’t have special talents like the many students, her family name is what got her into the prestigious school. When she first attended Eorzea High, people teased her for trying to be like her late sister Yda; eventually Lyse grew tired of it and started training to become one of the best monks in the school. Understanding her struggle to finding her identity, Ren gladly accepted Lyse as a friend. Y’shtola: Friends with Lyse, Y’shtola is the smartest girl in the school. She is super popular among the boys because of her sassy attitude; however, she doesn’t take interest in dating. She has all knowledge about the school and students which Yotsuyu has a hard time dealing with her because Y’shtola is quick to catch on her schemes. Whenever Ren and Lyse get into trouble, she gets them out then scolds them later. She is the big sister of the group.

 Yup, that’s all I thought about from the joke; I do plan to draw pictures based from my headcanon sometime soon hopefully.

[idolizerp]

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON IMPERIAL’S MAIN VOCAL CHEOL…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 26 DEBUT AGE: 21 SKILL POINTS: 22 VOCAL | 06 DANCE | 03 RAP | 09 PERFORMANCE SECONDARY SKILLS: Intelligence

INTERVIEW

despite having been chosen as a member by a public vote, cheol was at first considered the visual hole of the group. some spread online rumours that the voting was rigged and that the group had been set before filming had even started; others defended his position due to the talent and drive he demonstrated through the show. either way, the discussions subsided as he’s grown into himself over the years.

cheol, having made a point of not advertising his family’s background while competing on the show, was then instructed by the company that they’d rather he played it up. he took on the role of the intellectual of the group - son of two esteemed academics, who had the brains and means to pursue that path but opted instead to do music. in order to fit this properly cheol had to relearn whatever fun trivia questions that might be asked on shows to “prove” his intelligence or that might be good to show off with. he studied until late at night, memorizing the order of korea’s kings, learning english grammar rules, and practicing his mental math. after the initial frustration of having to stay up late to study, he’s warmed up to the image - after all, it’s not the worst reputation someone could have, and he did inherit enough smarts that things stuck more or less easily.

most recently, 99 entertainment has instructed him to publicly act in more of an affectionate-older-brother manner towards the company’s younger artists. even though imperial is 99′s most recently debuted group, cheol is currently among the oldest of the active artists in the company. he tends to be a warm person, but this is a difficult role for him to play, especially towards the members of poizn. he’s protective over his members and it has become easier and easier to resent poizn for repeatedly making messes that then imperial is sent to clean up. for a while it was manageable since imperial was the more popular group and could usually overshadow whatever scandal their sunbaes had gotten into, but with poizn’s recent spike of success cheol is beginning to worry that when they mess up, they’ll mess up harder than ever, and imperial could get hurt from the collateral damage. in the meantime, he smiles and ruffles hair and cracks jokes in front of the public, and keeps it civil when the cameras are off.

BIOGRAPHY

on october 23rd, 1991, sunwoo cheol was born. his parents, both in their early forties, had been worried for a long time that they would always be childless; when his mother finally got pregnant, they were warned by countless doctors and professionals that the child may not make it to term. cheol, all 5.9 lbs of him, was a miracle.

he grew up quickly, and was raised to love books and learning. he looked forward to his first day of elementary school for months, crying and whining when his older cousins got to wake up early and wear uniforms and sit at desks while he had to stay at home. he read from an early age, learned to write quickly, and when he finally did start going to school, he was already ahead of his classmates. that didn’t change anything, though - he loved just being there, and relished the classroom.

over the years, he stayed at the top of the class. he was well-liked and popular, having a reputation for being kind and generous with his help. everything seemed to always go well for him, without the need for much effort. no one begrudged him, because he was just so unbearably nice. cheol kept studying, kept succeeding, but after some years of going to school it became less… exciting. more work. less fun.

but if cheol wasn’t a student, what was he? he’d never been anything else. he’d never been anything but a student. he’d never thought of a life beyond school - he was meant to follow in his mother’s shoes - she being the president of a prestigious seoul university - and stay in academia for his entire life. not so long ago that idea had thrilled him, the prospect of always learning and developing the minds and futures of others. now he had no idea where to go or what to do.

he continued to go through all the motions. he graduated from his mother’s private high school, he smiled, he did people favours and was kind. he did well in school, as always, and was student council president, all the while hiding the fog in his head.

cheol had always been good at singing, though. a gift supposedly handed down from his father’s mother’s part of the family, cheol’s voice was naturally crisp and clear, smooth and soothing. it was something he was lucky to have and to enjoy, but it was meant to just be a hobby - a fun fact about himself, a party trick. cheol decided to throw all that out the window when he came across a poster advertising auditions for a new entertainment company and signed up on a whim. what could the danger be? he wanted to see how far this voice could take him.

it was easy enough to hide his auditions from his parents. it was impossible, however, to hide his contract.

at this point he was eighteen and his parents could not stop him from cancelling his enrollment at his mother’s university and going off to train for an uncertain future with kids many years younger than him. he joined 99 entertainment shortly after its founding and struggled from day one. his singing voice was fine for karaoke or to show off to family friends, but it was far from professional quality and, being older than the other trainees, it was much harder to break bad habits and form new ones. but after years of being good at everything he hated not being good at this, and most of all, hated the thought of how his parents would react at his failure. he, their pride and joy, who gave up everything they had given him. he trained until he was dizzy, practiced until he bled. his combination of natural talent, hard work, stubborn pride, and a bit of charm eventually paid off when at the end of a gruelling survival show he was selected to debut as the strongest vocalist in a vocally demanding group.

currently, he’s more or less happy about imperial’s direction. their sound is solid and when they do get to promote, they get good responses. his biggest concern is that a lack of promotion means he’s less busy, and when he’s less busy he can feel that old aimless, uninspired feeling that haunted him and drove him to join this industry return, bit by bit. now that he’s proven himself to his parents his main motivation to push himself has waned and become less effective. work distracts him from it, and without it he begins to feel antsy and distracted. even worse is that his enlistment is approaching - after which he’s afraid he’ll either come back completely disinterested in being an idol, or he’ll come back ready to work and the public will have completely forgotten about him.

[hollanderin]

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[tonystarktogo]

@digdipper09 I saw your Tony as a villain comment and raise you Tony as an accidental-clueless-unknowing villain. Not quite what I expected when I started but *shrug*

The Villainous Career of Tony Stark--A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events

A different take on the Tony as the Villains’ Favourite™ concept. Where the consequences of hate and gossip are unpredictable, and nothing ever goes the way you intend it to... Also this is mostly crack. I tried treating it seriously, but not sure I succeeded.

Warning: Contains small amounts of various superhero hate, because villains and terrible people. In this chapter mainly Tony and Bruce.

A rumour doesn’t have to be true. It has to be shared.

There is this kid, barely old enough to drink, yet already well on his way to become a super villain. It’s name--though of no importance--is Ian, and he knows two things, and two things only: 1) Being able to corrode even the thickest of stones with just your spit is unnatural and despicable. 2) Tony Stark is the most revolting, hypocritical, pathetic waste of space there is.

Both lessons the kid learned early on, like many other things, from his parents. A spiteful, bitter pair too occupied spewing poisonous words into every direction to find something worth loving in their lives.

And so it is perhaps inevitable that this kid, Ian, eventually finds his way into the New Yorker underground, where, thanks to his ability, he quickly finds a sponsor. An older, more experienced villain willing to show the kid the ropes and keep him out of trouble with the big leagues until he might be able to handle it.

They talk about super heroes eventually because of course they do. Know your enemy and all. And it’s then, when the mentor goes over Iron Man’s known abilities, that the kid frowns in confusion.

“But Iron Man isn’t a villain?” he says like it’s obvious, a truth that has been drilled into his mind for so long that questioning it is unthinkable--after all, following Iron Man’s path is a large part of the reason why Ian is here in the first place, trying to become a super villain.

The mentor meanwhile is struck dumb by this, this utterly ridiculous statement. He doesn’t even know where to begin refuting this claim, everyone knows Iron Man is a hero, where did this kid even come from?

But when he tries to explain as much to the kid, Ian proves himself surprisingly stubborn for the first time. It’s all “He went out of the arms’ business” “Yes, because he didn’t want to share them anymore, he kept them to himself” and “He saved the world” “Yeah, to save himself”, until eventually, the poor, exhausted mentor has to admit defeat. There is no convincing this kid that Tony Stark isn’t a villain, even though he’s obviously a hero.

...isn’t he?

There’s this lower-class villain mentor who’s a little thrown-off by his protégés insistence that Tony Stark is a villain. He knows it couldn’t be true of course, but there doesn’t seem to be a way to convince the kid of that--and that, that bothers him.

He seeks counsel with a higher-up villain the next day, a man feared enough to have earned his own villain name. Dagger he is called and rumour has it he has even once encountered an Avenger himself.

Dagger has nothing but scoffs and scorn for the mentor, served with a bunch of sharp barbs about how the drinks must’ve softened up his brain. But Dagger holds no love for Iron Man, who at one point blasted him into a wall before he could so much as raise his daggers, and so the answer a curious minion overhears is a snappish “sure is enough of a selfish bastard to fit the bill”.

There’s this man well into his fifties, who’s been working behind the bar of the Gustav’s all his life. He’s used to the odd people slipping through the door way too late, used to barely hidden weapons, used to shady deals and not asking questions.

He’s less used to a bunch of very shady men gathering together in one corner, arguing, louder and louder, drawing more and more attention. Over Tony Stark of all things.

But he’s kept his head down all his life and he continues to do so. Until the men demand a refill and one of them demands to know whether it’s true, whether Tony Stark really is a villain. And this man, who’s rarely ever been asked for his own thoughts, bares his teeth as he thinks of Stark, of the man who has been born with everything he could have ever wanted, and so he rants about arrogance and entitlement and how Stark has done more damage to this world than that damn Loki ever did.

And the men listen silently, occasionally nodding in solemn agreement, and the next round the bartender gives out for free.

There is Carter Whistney who hasn’t been high up in HYDRA’s hierarchy. Which might just be the only reason he is still alive and free. But ever since HYDRA’s fall--or setback, depending on whom you ask--he has begun to make a name for himself. And whilst not as high up in the underworld as, say, Loki, he is doing well indeed.

As such, when the first rumours of Tony Stark being secretly a villain reach his ears, he could afford to spend ten minutes laughing about how gullible his minions really are.

Then. Then he takes the situation for what it really is. A chance to besmirch the name of Tony fucking Stark, an irritating nuisance in every honest villain’s butt.

And so he turns back to his terrified underlings with a wide, crazed smile on his lips and uttered a single confirmation.

There is Brock Rumlow tilting his head to the side in consideration. For the past three weeks or so, the underworld has been abuzz with rumours about the one and only Tony Stark, a name that never fails to draw attention from every side of the legal line.

It’s not the first time that uninformed morons and FOX reporters insist on the inherent evil-ness of the guy, but those rumours usually dissipate within days. This time it seems like every minion in New York has been won over at the same time.

It could be a coincidence, mere happenstance, but Brock Rumlow doesn’t believe in coincidences. And since this time the theory clearly isn’t gonna disappear on its own, perhaps it’s time to--reconsider.

After all... There has been the Incident.

(Nobody talks about the Incident.)

With a sign Rumlow pulls out his newest burner phone. It’s time to let the others, who are less likely to pay attention to their underlings’ worries know of this new development. Whether it’s true or not, rumours as persistent as this one will have uncomfortable consequences sooner rather than later.

They need to deal with this as quickly as possible.

The Council of All That Is Evil And All That Spreads Evil is in full session. Which is to say, all its twenty four, highly esteemed members are shouting and flinging insults at each other, as is usual at this stage in the informed decision making process.

“This is preposterous!” one of the more conservative members interrupts. “Why do we even waste our time with this pointless discussion? Iron Man is a hero, there’s no questioning that!”

“Then where was he during Project Insight?” another one throws in heatedly. “Why wasn’t he defending his precious civilians from all those armed helicarriers? Helicarriers that he built by the way.”

“Hulk wasn’t there either and I don’t see you trying to turn him into a villain!” the first one shoots back.

“Psh,” a third member scoffs. “Hulk runs all the time.”

“And someone explain to me how a man who routinely hacked SHIELD and other secret government data banks, could not know about HYDRA’s continued survival!” the second one continuous with new fervour. “Explain how a man with the most developed computing skills didn’t know his own business partner made deals with terrorists.”

“He almost got killed by said terrorists,” the first one scorns.

“Oh, like you’ve never gotten rid off your partner because he knew too much,” the second snarks right back.

“I can’t believe we’re even considering this.” A fourth villain buries his face in his hands.

“You have to admit though, there’s a lot of holes in these stories,” his seat neighbour comments. “I mean, do you really think SHIELD could just sneak a spy in right under Stark’s nose and he’d suspect nothing?”

“Order! Order!” the Council’s president bellows. “I do not believe that we will resolve this issue today. Therefore I ask that you keep your eyes and ears open, and gather as much information as possible for the meeting in two weeks, where we’ll discuss this again. Meeting adjourned!”

Technically there are 2-3 more parts planned. Two more from various villains’ perspectives and then one from Tony’s point of view. But this was getting ridiculously long as it is and also I’m increasingly less sure if it’s a good read? Damn you, insecurity. Let me know what you think?

Btw the alternate title for this was The Only Acceptable Consequence Of Tony-Hate, just because.

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

                                 Aiden Xiao, who is known by no other name;                                                  a 20 year old son of Morrigan.                                          He is a florist at Blossoms of Yggdrasil                                              and a bartender at Visión / Ilusión.

FC NAME/GROUP: Xiao Jun, WayV/NCT CHARACTER NAME: Aiden Xiao AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: August 8, 1999 PLACE OF BIRTH: City of Westminster, London, England OCCUPATION: Part-time florist at Blossoms of Yggdrasil, Bartender at Vísion/Illusíon, freelance artist and photographer DEFINING FEATURES: Naturally thick, well-defined eyebrows, sharp jawlines, high cheekbones, and an intense gaze that make his features look fierce, aggressive or intimidating.

PERSONALITY: + Charming: He’s got a loving, warm smile and relaxed attitude, helping his to easily gets along with others people + Sensitive: To others’ feelings and emotions. He can read between the lines and recognize people’s mood right when he walks into the room. + Passionate: He might not openly show his interests and excitement, but once he takes an interest in something or someone, nothing else in this world would matter to him until he’s got what he wants.  + Artistic: He loves everything that is beautiful and aesthetic. His artistic talents are often showed in painting and photography. He also can sing and play instruments, including piano and guitar.  

- Fiercely independent: Traditions and rules in general are his enemies. His love for freedom is much more than anyone could imagine. He would do whatever it takes, as long as his body, mind, and soul could be free. - Unpredictable: His mind changes frequently, so do his decisions and plans. Long projects and committed relationships are obviously not his cup of tea. - Competitive: Almost always ready for competitions, especially when he’s challenged. Definitely not a very good loser. - Unstable self-esteem: To keep things going, he secretly craves for validation, compliments, and supports for what he’d done. Without those, he would be upset quite easily. In worse scenarios, it may lead to addictions and self-destruction.

HISTORY: Aiden Xiao was born only few weeks before his father was elected to be a member of the City Council. For his, being the youngest son of a famous politician and a venerable doctor was both a blessing and a curse. He got everything a baby boy ever needed to become a true gentleman, yet he lacked almost everything he wanted to be a normal, happy person. Aiden grew up in utter peace, with his butler and nanny’s company.

He rarely had to face those problems his peers always have, except for one particular occasion. It was in his third year of primary school, when he angrily shoved a kid down the stairs after witnessing him punching another classmate for no reason. The kid was alright with a few stiches on his head. But after the incident, Aiden had never come back to school.

Few weeks later, during the day time, his bedroom turned into a classroom. Each day, a different teacher would come to teach his a different subject for two hours, including painting and playing the piano. The instrument was made for his, but Aiden fell in love with painting right at the very first moment he touched the brushes. The boy found it completely satisfying, to stay inside and play around with colors for days. Hardly ever did anyone understand his paintings, as he seemed to be obsessed with red and black and distorted figures. But Aiden didn’t really care. He enjoyed staying in his own world, and getting lost in his own mind.

His parents came home when they could, but rarely both of them were home at the same time. He met his mother more frequently, and Aiden could see clearly that his mother did try his best for them to be closer. It just couldn’t work out, mostly because their totally opposite mindsets. Same thing went between him and his father, although sometimes he could be slightly more open and lively and the old man was in a great mood. And because of unknown reasons to him, their family never went out for dinner together. It was either his with mother or his with father. If a friend recognized and came to greet them, both would introduce Aiden as their niece.

But the young boy didn’t really care. What he cared about at that time was his father’s birthday gift, the newest model of an instant camera. He decorated the walls in his house with the pictures he took. Again, no one could really understand the meaning behind his pictures, and sometimes, neither did him. He still went outside for a few days of the week, most of the time to the residential area’s park, because his nanny said sunlight would be good for his bones. He met other kids and they usually played hide and seek, but Aiden’s favorite game was cops and robbers, his being the cop, because he knew he would always win.

Everything was nice and alright, and could have been like that forever, if on that rainy day Aiden hadn’t been chased after by a seemingly crazy bulldog. While trying to run for his life, he accidentally turned into a crow.

Yes, he turned into a crow and escaped the frenzy animal by flying back to his bedroom’s window. Aiden was ten when he stared at himself in the mirror, frozen on his feet in naked human form, still drenched in sweats and panting heavily because of the chase. He was ten when he realized not only his life was abnormal, but he himself also was. Aiden instinctively knew that he had better bring this truth to his grave.

Soon after that fateful day, the little boy learnt that he wasn’t only his parents’ son. In fact, he was their biggest, top-secret shame. Basically, he was still his father’s son, but not his mother’s one. Even the man didn’t really know much about the woman who had brought his youngest child to life. Aiden knew he got very decent reasons to hate him.

Ten years living as a shadow, Aiden still knew how to make himself known to the world, at least among his community. He was now better known as Aid, a mysterious artist, with several paintings and photos published both on his own blog and in the galleries around the country. Arts and yoga helped his to be balanced, and to put his latent urge to fight and to destroy under good control. But, sometimes, even the longest hours of yoga did nothing to keep him calm, and Aiden had to take extra miles to exhaust himself, usually intense sports like boxing or martial arts.  

The young man knew he was not normal. But how abnormal could he be? Where would be his limits? When would he literally explode because of those impulsive desires to see blood on his hands? Someone had to know the answers, Aiden believed. He had never stopped seeking for whatever or whoever could help to solve his problems. During his endless journey, fate had told his that Mount Phoenix was an abnormal island, and people residing in it were just as abnormal as he was. Aiden knew he had to go there. It was finally time for the truth to come out.

PANTHEON: Celtic CHILD OF: Morrigan POWERS:

Avian shape-shifting: He’s able to shift his shape fully into avian, mostly raven or crow.

Battle instincts: He’s born with the instincts of a warrior, which has helped his to gain the upper hand in most of the physical competitions and fights.

Enhanced strength: Despite his rather small and fragile frame,he’s natural strong enough to lift a healthy, 6-feet man up easily with only one hand.

STRENGTHS:

Able to stay in the avian form as long as he wants

He’s naturally good at develop strategies

The longer he’s engaged in a fight, the physically and mentally stronger he will become

WEAKNESSES:

Transformation is sometimes uncontrollable, often triggered when he is in a dangerous situation

The transformation requires lots of physical strength, so usually after each transformation, he would be exhausted and need some time to recover

Could be overwhelmed by his powers. If he doesn’t find some way to make use of it, he’ll become very irritated and troublesome.

[coruscantholonet]

ELECTION Q&A session with the candidates. (End of 270 ABY)

With the Election just a week or so away we took the time to sit down and ask some of the questions that those on Corellia seem to want to know in order to get a better understanding of where they all stand.

___

The scene would be the meeting chamber of Vreni Islands city hall and all the candidates would be at the table with a female Pantoran news reporter at the head who seemed to be the one asking the questions.

___

Q: The presence of both Jedi & Sith as well as other force user organizations has been at times controversial.  How do you feel about this topic and if elected would you try to push for a change?

[ Snarj has a background in the Confederation/Corellian Defense Force and has served for several years as the Councilor for Drall ]

Snarj: I do not think outlawing them would be in unison with Corellian values, but I do think laws should be adjusted to require lightsabers be more regulated.

Jasper: If people are getting riled up because they can't put down a guy in robes with a light stick, that's on them. I don't see them as a threat. Let them do their fancy little dances.

Art:  Both are a necessary part of the galaxy as we have noticed in many of the galaxy' s historic accounts

Zwee: It's only right that, as time goes on, force user groups are getting controversial. It means that the rest of us are finally waking up to the dangers that the Sith AND the Jedi bring not just to the galaxy as a whole, but to our very streets here in Coronet City. If elected, firstly I would push for a ban on 'open carry' lightsabers. They can have them in their temples, but only our brave CorSec officers or Corellian Knights should be permitted to carry them on the streets. Lawfully deputized representatives of CorSec would also be permitted to carry them but ONLY when on official CorSec missions. 

Vesha: This has a very easy solution.  Have them transported to one of the moons and leave them there without any transportation off of it.  Continue to deport force users to this.. containment colony.

Victoria: I believe we need to put in place laws to regulate the use of light sabers in public. I would like to keep a neutral position between the Jedi and Sith but I do hear the concern of the public and I will put my hand if any of the groups are causing nothing but chaos. 

___ 

[ Victoria has been serving on the Council and many would look to her as the most hard working of those who currently sit on it.] Q: At this point the Confederation consists of the five worlds of the system.  Some wish to see it expand and provide an alternative to multi-system governing bodies such as the Republic. What position would you take?

Snarj: I would look into a slow rate of possible expansion, starting with opening diplomatic talks with some of our neighboring systems which we’ve had good trade relations with.  I’d be careful though to make it clear it’s primarily a defensive alliance and besides some basic principles the Confederation does not interfere much in the governing of the individual worlds.

Victoria: I would rather keep things as it is right now. The current system is the greatest but I don't think it so bad now that we will look for alternative, but I'm not against changing later on if that is best for the five worlds. 

Vesha: Of course, expanding means more potential profits.  

Zwee: Corellia and The Five Brothers form the heart of the Core Worlds. The axis to which the galaxy turns lies with us - Corellia and her people. So saying, I would definitely be open to expanding our borders to include other worlds, mostly in line with Mister Snarj's views. However, before we stride into that future, we must focus on finding solutions to our problems at home.

Jasper: Sounds like an excuse for more red tape. The less government the better, in my opinion. My esteemed colleagues should be a wonderful indication of that. Let's worry about ourselves instead of running off trying to save the whole galaxy.

Zwee: That's Jasper for you, easily distracted by trivialities. Not the best quality in a leader.

Art: Joining multi-system Governing body might sound nice and profitable but remember when they fight their war' s our children will be required to heed the call. I would not vote in favor of joining such Bureaucratic system. Work with them is a different story but not the topic of this question

___

[ Zwee has had a successful career in the world of business and has made sizable donations to CorSec as well as worked with the Council on improving Coronets utility services. ]

Q: Currently taxes are distributed fairly equally between agendas such as education, military, social services and so on.  Is there an area you'd increase spending on and what would you spend less on to compensate for?

Zwee: As a business owner myself, I understand well the important role capitalism has on maintaining not only a healthy government, but a healthy and happy people. My privatizing  of the power and water grids have already taken some of the burden off of government spending, freeing a good deal of revenue to go towards other agendas. Personally, I would wish for that extra revenue to go towards education, couple this with lesser taxes in the business sector and our economy will soar!

Art: Taxes in regards to basic necessities should be lowered.Our focus should lay with the people, but to answer the question... I would prefer to see more funding go to start up businesses perhaps in the form of. Long running governmental. 'Loans' 

Snarj: I would increase military spending, especially when it comes to the defense fleet.  We should not be having trouble with pirates. The credits need to come from somewhere but instead of reducing funding to anything I would increase taxes on luxury goods, weaponry,  none medicinal legal spice and property that exceeds a modest threshold. 

Victoria: Of course we need to increase spending on the military as CorSec have been dealing with low funding while there is an increase in crimes. Its important to keep funding social services and education as that will help the citizen being well educated and a healthy body. If anything to cut spending then probably cut down a bit on government official salary.

Jasper: I would reduce spending on social services in favor of a slight bump in military and education. Judging from the amount of idiots you have running around on this planet it's clear to me education is a priority. Besides that, I'd rather stay alive than using taxes to pay for things like Zwee's implants. So Military seems valuable as well.

Vesha: I would cut all funding to social services, people need to learn to stand on their own two feet and stop depending on the Government.  I would put more funding into the arts as culture is far more important than those who won't help themselves.

___

[ Art also comes with a background in business as well as technology. ]

Q: With crime running rampant through Coronet and other urban areas... the cuts made to CorSec and the ever climbing violence on the streets. How do you hope to tackle this issue?

Zwee: One of my campaigns promises I made when first throwing my headband into the election was a reduction in crime. A tall order that my peers have also pledged to. However as we all know, words pale in comparison to action. My action in regards to my promise is my ExCon Initiative - giving those citizens whom have paid their time for their crimes a career in my newly privatized utilities department. It is a sad fact that oftentimes a business won't hire an ex-convict, which only leads them back into a life of crime, perpetuating the vicious cycle. Thusly, we starve the street gangs of recruits. Couple this with increased spending on education, and joining a group of thugs becomes a far, far less attractive option.

Victoria: We of course need to increase funding and more recruitment programs to gain more into the ranks. I'am not against using other organizations to help CorSec deal with the increase in crimes if that will allows us to keep our citizens safe.

Vesha: Yes, zero tolerance for riff-raff.  Have them locked up, deported, even executed if the crime is severe enough.  Send a clear message that Corellia is done letting petty thugs have their way.  Rewarding them with jobs is lunacy!

Art: This issue all relates to the fact that our poverty line is much higher then our middle class line. Investments in to free schooling till the age of 16 should be a must

Zwee: Would a zero tolerance policy also be applied to hate groups, Vesha? Also I agree with Artimis, I like the idea of free schooling up to a certain age.

Vesha: Hate isn’t a crime, it is natural to dislike parasites.  They latch onto the host and will suck it dry if left unchecked. Draining from a host while contributing little or anything is what should be considered a crime.

-- There would be a few gasps here, likely offended audience members, and the moderator would just signal to move along --

Jasper: End corruption. Too many politicians are happy to sit around smiling while they dip their hands into the pockets of criminals. The first step is to get rid of these complacent cowards. Once they're dealt with we go after the criminals themselves. We already know who half of them are. Hell, why are we sitting around pretending "His Lordly Baron of the Black Sun, 34th of his name" isn't somebody who we should be locking up? No, instead of that we'll let them host our election parties and give all of them a vote. It disgusts me. We can spend as much money on CorSec as we want, but until we reevaluate the politicians it doesn't do any good.

Snarj: I would take a closer look at how we’re spending the funding allocated to CorSec. Potentially rebalancing where the funding goes to be spending more on areas of high crime rates and less on low crime rate districts. 

___

[ Veshari is mostly known for her work in the Holofilm Industry as both an Actress and a Producer, she’s also sat on the Czerka Corporation executive board. ]

Q: Some criticize the close relationship CorSec seems to have with several organizations.  They have concerns that Jedi, Mandalorians and Corsairs have been among those who have been deputized by CorSec, especially in high crime areas such as the Blue Sector.   Critics have said that Corellia is outsourcing its problems rather than tackling them internally.  What are your thoughts on this?

Zwee: I wouldn't say that CorSec is outsourcing, no. Rather our police force is utilizing the assets we have at hand. Saying that, I share some of the concerns expressed by my fellow citizens...after all, how are we to know those being deputized are up to the task? I believe having some transparency in the deputizing process would alleviate some concerns. Also making the Corellian Knights a more attractive organization for those individuals who have some skill in the Force, rather than having them stuck in the ages-old, pragmatically problematic Jedi/Sith cults would do wonders to shore up our brave men and women in blue against force-related situations.

Art: I hold no ill will to such things if at heart the betterment of corellia takes priority above personal gain.

Snarj: I can’t say I have a problem with the current ways people are deputized.

Vesha: I don't really know, but I would make sure we're not overpaying for these types.

Jasper: Mandalorians are, in my experience, extremely lethal, efficient warriors. They're also usually assholes, but that's neither here nor there. If they want to help out CorSec I don't see why an extremely underfunded department should say no. The Jedi are, if my understanding is correct, "peaceful warriors." So that seems fair enough to me as well. Corsairs may have their own interests in doing that, I doubt it's just out of the kindness of their own heart, so maybe that should be reexamined, but if they're keeping their nose clean then again, I don't see why not. I don't see any of this as "outsourcing problems." The fact of the matter is most of these deputies live on Corellia. Citizens taking up arms to defend their homes is as internal as it gets. Just because they don't roll around eating donuts it really doesn't make a difference to me. Maybe the Mynocks will try to get deputized.

Victoria: I wouldn't say that we are outsourcing the problem but mainly finding ways to deal with the problem. I'm sure there are citizen that would rather want trained CorSec cops but in reality with the current crime wave we can't fit the demand to train new recruits in a timely manner. Training new recruits take time and if we take too much time then it allow crime to increase as well. So in my opinion I don't think anything wrong using other organization to help us with dealing crimes. It will be worst if we don't have anyone in these high crime areas.

___

[ Jasper had some roles in holo as a child but since has mostly been involved in fairly questionable organizations ]

Q: Some feel that some potentially self destructive vices such as prostitution and gambling should be made fully illegal.  Right now to run an establishment with gambling or prostitution requires a license to be purchased.  Sex workers must also be registered and licensed. Do you see the need for any change here?

Victoria: I don't see the need to completely ban prostitution and gambling because those two things will always exist just won't be in our face. Since we require businesses to have license to operate then the government can make sure our specific guidelines are follow and ensure it running nicely. Sex workers I believe would be safer because of the require license as they won't be afraid of cops of arresting them for their work and can freely report to CorSec if they suffer any abuse from their clients. 

Jasper: Absolutely not. Sex and gambling are as old as the galaxy. Outlawing it won't reduce the amount of it we do, it will just create a criminal market for it. That means trafficking. Crime is bad enough as it is. Let's treat people like adults. If you can't stop gambling that's your own fault, take responsibility.

Art: Making such things illegal will only draw in more gangsters seeking to gain more profit through such trades. I believe in a free choice of profession

Snarj: Not really, I may just try to push through raising the costs of these things as part of increasing funding to the military.

Zwee: I do not see a change as necessary, no. The licensing and registration process is design to protect both the customers of said ventures and the businesses themselves. To outlaw them would only provide a foothold for crime to weasel its way in. 

Vesha: It provides work for otherwise useless people, I suppose it doesn’t bother me all that much as long as these types of people are registered and kept away from more important functions where lesser beings are not needed and only provide a distraction.

___

Q: How are you tackling the poverty and  widespread issues facing parts of Coronot City and other urban areas while those in Vreni and other affluent areas are treated to the luxuries of Corellia. What programs are going to be put in place to better the people and allow equal opportunity?

Vesha:  Yes, my program is called..  shut up and work harder if you want to make something of yourself. 

*Zwee just gives Vesha a mildly amused look as she answers the questions, then looks directly into the camera with an arched eyebrow as if to say 'Seriously?'*

Art: I will do all in my power even invest personal capital to create more jobs

Snarj: I feel that the opportunities we present people now are fair.  Many of the poverty cases I see are the result of addiction to spice, other drugs, gambling, other ways that those without self control have squandered their opportunity at a better state of life.  This isn’t always the case but the personal freedoms that Corellians are allowed do come with some self accountability.  If anything I may look into more programs for youths in that situation to learn trade skills. 

Victoria: I'am currently working on severally programs to help address this type of program. I have spoken to a few business heads to help us fund these programs. One of the first one will be a public clinic for those that can't afford medical care as health should be the first thing people are concern with as some can't find jobs due to a number of health issue. Another  programs I'am planning is to have a training program to help those gain the necessarily skills to find jobs.

Zwee: Education and a healthy job market are the cornerstones of equal opportunity and prosperity. If we can grow more businesses in Coronet, that equals a healthy job market. One way we can achieve this is with lower taxes for the corporate sector. I feel that privatizing our infrastructure isn't taken as seriously as it should among our people. That's my answer to the inevitable question of where the credits are supposed to be coming from to support both tax cuts and an increase in government programs. My privatization of the water and power utilities frees up millions of credits that can be put towards such programs.

Jasper: Opportunity is as equal here as it is anywhere on the galaxy. If you want to live in "affluent areas" then find what you're good at and make a living out of it. Some people are lazy and we can't adjust society to try and account for them. In fact it's a strain on our taxes that we absolutely don't need.

___

Q: The top three industries on Corellia are shipbuilding, agriculture and the manufacturing on alcohol.  It is among the top exporters in the galaxy in those categories.  What industry do you think could be pushed to join them in helping to make Corellia prosper?

Jasper: Weaponry. It's one of our biggest imports. If instead of importing we make our own, in the long term we have potential not only to save huge amounts of credits, but the rest of the galaxy would come to rely on us for more than just our ships.

Snarj: I think our mining industry isn’t too far behind and there are likely things we can do to improve it

Zwee: As we grow Corellia's shipbuilding and agriculture sectors, so too will the support industries surrounding those titans grow! Again I bring up education and training as well, often overlooked as an industry. 

Victoria: Tourism as vreni island is already popular and why don't we push for more tourism into it as that will also help the businesses on the island as well. We could also try our hand on droid manufacturing.

Vesha: The holofilm industry.  Corellia has diverse scenery which really can save a lot of credits on special effects.

Art: Any that gives more jobs 

__

Q: Do you have any thoughts on the other candidates? Whether it be criticisms, concerns or compliments?

Art: None that i feel needed to put down here

Vesha: Yes, I find it hard to believe that half of them have a grade school education.

Snarj: I must say I’m deeply concerned about the human league’s involvement in the candidacy of Miss Syphex.  Many are likely too young to remember but at one point this organization was labeled as terrorists.

Zwee: I've spent a good deal of time with Councillor Victoria, I've already pledged my support for her in her bid for the Prime Minister chair, but I'm thankful for having another opportunity to give her more praise! Not only is she a thoughtful and compassionate woman, she has a sharp mind for policy as well. I'm a fan of her previously passed bill on the taxation of personal droids, for example. I have a strong concern about Ms. Vesharia Syphex and her rather alarming views about "aliens" such as myself. Being a member of a species is not a choice, Ms. Syphex.

Victoria: One of the first candidates that came to mind is Miss Zwee. I have spent some time with her and I can see that she really care for the well being of the people and the planet as a whole.I even will endorse Miss Zwee in her run for a Councilor seat.It's quite rare to find those type of people in government nowadays. now with  Mr.Raiden I would consider my closest rival in this race but I'm not too concern about him. Yes he does seem to have a business background but what is that compare to me that walk the very streets and making with people that call Corellia their home.  Another candidates that is a bit of a wild card is Jasper. He is certainly an odd character in the race but he does give some good points in what he believe should be done for the planet. Mind you at the same time he have a mouth and he should really control that and his behavior.

Jasper: They're incompetent, but you'll vote for them anyways, so this corrupt mess is your fault. In fact, I blame the citizens more for the sore state of things than these puppets.

___

Q: If elected, what would be your first action/goal ?

Snarj:  As I touched on earlier, improving the military would be my first and primary objective.  We must be able to defend ourselves in a galaxy full of those with agendas that could target our great Confederation.

Victoria: Tackle the crime wave of course

Jasper: Get rid of corruption.

Art: Begin creating a poverty free corellia

Zwee: The ban on lightsabers would be my first action, a reachable, non-nebulous goal.

Vesha: Probably having a massive center for the arts built in center city Coronet, some have suggested naming it after me. . .

--at this point a murmur in the crowd “Who the fuck is some?”--

Vesha: . . . but I'll be quite content for a modest statue or something of that nature.

As the show was fading to commercial, a topless woman would run by carrying a sign that said “Vote for Gor’gon”, perhaps a reminder that people could write in others outside the field..

[clubofinfo]

Expert: “We cannot allow the Israeli Government to treat Palestinian lives as inferior to their own, which is what they consistently do,” David Steel tells the House of Lords. I’d like to share with you the speech by Steel (aka Lord Steel of Aikwood) in a recent House of Lords debate, the motion being ‘That this House takes note of the situation in the Palestinian Territories’. Steel himself opened proceedings with as good a summing-up of the appalling situation as I have heard anywhere. Here it is word for word from Hansard: My Lords, I put in for the ballot for today’s debate just after the terrible slaughter of 62 Palestinians inside the Gaza fence, which included eight children. I should at the outset ​declare a former interest. I served for seven years as president of the charity Medical Aid for Palestinians — and I am delighted to see that the current president, the noble Baroness, Lady Morris of Bolton, is to speak in this debate. During that time I visited Israel, the West Bank and Gaza several times, once touring Gaza just after the Cast Lead operation, when I saw for myself the wanton destruction of hospitals, schools and factories in what was described by David Cameron as one vast prison camp. Before anyone accuses me of being one-sided, let me also say that I spent an afternoon with the local Israeli MP in the Ashkelon area in the south of that country and fully understand the intolerable life of citizens there threatened by rockets fired by Hamas from inside Gaza. In fact, long before I got involved with MAP, back in 1981, I first met Yasser Arafat, leader of the PLO, at a time when our Government would not speak to him on the grounds that the PLO was a terrorist organisation refusing to recognise Israel, a mistake that we have repeated with Hamas. As I got to know Arafat over the years, I recognised that he was a brilliant liberation leader but a disappointing failure as head of the Palestinian Administration. Indeed, it was the incompetence and even corruption of that Administration which led to the success of Hamas in the election in Gaza. But those of us who pride ourselves in democracy cannot just give them the cold shoulder because we did not like the result, and yet that is what happened. The lesson of the successful peace process in Northern Ireland should surely have taught us that the only route to peace has to be through dialogue with those we may not like, rather than confrontation. That brings me to the policy of the current Israeli Government, backed by the United States of America and, sadly, by our own Government. Israel’s great tragedy was the assassination of Prime Minister Rabin, who had been relentless in his pursuit of an agreement with the Palestinians. The current Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, is very different. I met him once at a breakfast meeting in Tel Aviv. I admired his obvious ability and indeed swagger. He could, had he so wished, have gone down in history by heading an Administration to pursue a legitimate settlement with the Palestinians based on the 2002 Arab peace initiative, when every member state of the Arab League had offered to recognise Israel and host her embassies in their countries in return for the establishment of a proper Palestinian state. Instead, he has allied himself to the most reactionary forces in the Knesset and come close to destroying any hopes of such an outcome with the growing illegal Israeli settlements on occupied Palestinian land, the construction of the wall, routed in places condemned even by the Israeli courts, and the encouragement of Donald Trump’s opening of the American embassy in Jerusalem. It was that last event that provoked the mass demonstration at the Gaza fence, dealt with not by water cannon but with live ammunition from the Israel Defense Forces. That resulted not only in the deaths that I mentioned but in over 3,600 people being injured. One Israeli soldier was wounded. According ​to the World Health Organization, 245 health personnel were injured and 40 ambulances were hit. Last week, Razan al-Najjar, a 21 year-old female volunteer first responder, was killed while carrying out her work with the Palestinian Medical Relief Society. She was clearly wearing first-responder clothing at the time. In the meantime, the Israeli Defense Minister, Avigdor Lieberman, one of the reactionaries to whom I referred a moment ago, has declared that there are “no innocent people” in Gaza, while an UNRWA report declares that the blockade situation is so bad that Gaza is becoming unliveable in. I do not know whether the Israeli Government know or care about how low they have sunk in world esteem. When I was a student in the 1950s, many of my friends, not just Jewish ones, spent their vacations doing voluntary work in a kibbutz, such was the idealism surrounding the birth of the Israeli state, but that is no longer the case. The reason I joined the Liberal Democrat Friends of Israel group was that I got fed up with being blamed, as Liberal leader, for the then Government’s Balfour Declaration encouraging the establishment of that state, people forgetting that the famous letter included the words, “it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine”. The conduct of its present Government is a clear betrayal of the basis on which the Lloyd George Government welcomed a state of Israel. I spent some years active in the Anti-Apartheid Movement. Only much later did I realise one noted fact about those who had led the white population’s opposition to apartheid—my dear friend Helen Suzman, Zach de Beer, Harry Oppenheimer, Hilda Bernstein, Ronnie Kasrils, Helen Joseph, Joe Slovo and so many others were predominantly Jewish—which was that they knew where doctrines of racial superiority ultimately and tragically led. I rather hope that the recent slaughter in Gaza will awaken the international conscience to resolute action in the same way that the Sharpeville massacre led to the ultimately successful campaign by anti-apartheid forces worldwide. The Israeli Government hate that comparison, pointing to the Palestinians who hold Israeli citizenship or sit in the Knesset, but on visits to that beautiful and successful country one cannot help noticing not just the wall but the roads in the West Bank which are usable only by Israelis, just as facilities in the old South Africa were reserved for whites only. Recently some of us met a couple of Israeli professors in one of our committee rooms. They stressed to us the urgency of staying with UN Security Council Resolution 2334, passed as recently as December 2016, which roundly condemns all the illegal activities of the current Administration. It is worth reminding the House of just three of its 13 clauses, beginning with this one: “Condemning all measures aimed at altering the demographic composition, character and status of the Palestinian Territory occupied since 1967, including East Jerusalem, including, inter alia, the construction and expansion of settlements, transfer of ​Israeli settlers, confiscation of land, demolition of homes and displacement of Palestinian civilians, in violation of international humanitarian law”. A second clause reads: “Underlines that it will not recognize any changes to the 4 June 1967 lines, including with regard to Jerusalem, other than those agreed by the parties through negotiations”. A third reads: “Stresses that the cessation of all Israeli settlement activities is essential for salvaging the two-State solution, and calls for affirmative steps to be taken immediately to reverse the negative trends on the grounds that they are imperilling the two-State solution”. Those are not my words: they are taken from the UN Security Council. My mind went back to 1967 when, as a young MP, I was present when our then UK representative at the United Nations, Lord Caradon, led the drafting of Resolution 242 which was supposed to be the building block for peace after the Arab/Israeli war. My complaint is that the international community, including successive British Governments, have paid only lip service to that and allowed Israel to defy the United Nations and trample on the rights of the Palestinians. But there are signs of hope. The noble Lord, Lord Ahmad, knows how high he is held in the opinion of the House and we cannot expect him as the Minister of State to change United Kingdom policy, but when the Statement on Gaza was made in the other place, two senior and respected Conservative ex-Ministers gave strong voice objecting to our current stance. Sir Nicholas Soames hoped that our Foreign Office would “indulge in a little less limp response to the wholly unacceptable and excessive use of force”, while Sir Hugo Swire said that “one reason it is a festering hellhole and a breeding ground for terrorists is that each and every time there has been an attempt to improve the livelihoods of the Gazans, by doing something about their water … or about their quality of life, Israel has blockaded it”. We are entitled to ask the Minister to convey to the Prime Minister that she needs to be more forceful, honest and frank when she next meets Mr Netanyahu. Yesterday’s Downing Street briefing said she had “been concerned about the loss of Palestinian lives”, which surely falls into the description of a continuing limp response. We cannot allow the Israeli Government to treat Palestinian lives as inferior to their own, which is what they consistently do. That is why our Government should not only support the two-state solution, but register our determination and disapproval of their conduct by accepting the decisions of both Houses of our Parliament and indeed the European Parliament and recognise the state of Palestine without further delay. David Steel, son of a Church of Scotland minister, was elected to the House of Commons as MP for Roxburgh, Selkirk and Peebles in 1965 and, being only 23, was dubbed  the “Baby of the House”. He wasted no time making his mark and introduced, as a Private Member’s Bill, the Abortion Act 1967. Following the Jeremy Thorpe scandal he became Liberal Party leader until the merger with Labour renegades that formed the Liberal Democrats. He was elevated to the House of Lords in 2004 as Baron Steel of Aikwood. As Steel mentions in his speech, he served for 7 years as president of the charity Medical Aid for Palestinians (MAP), a remarkable organisation that “works for the health and dignity of Palestinians living under occupation and as refugees”. He lives in Aikwood Tower, a Borders fortified house built in 1535 which he painstakingly restored and modernised in the 1990s. Aikwood Tower or Oakwood Tower (MacGibbon and Ross) Courtesy of Castles of Scotland   http://clubof.info/

[whimsyverse]

I’m here to talk to you about the S.I.M.S. Initiative...

Rookie Beland is the new Director of SIMS. A capable pragmatist, Rookie is a Director for a new age, taking over from his very traditional father, Kain (see below). While there were the obvious - and perhaps warranted - cries of nepotism when Rookie’s promotion was announced, at the end of the day, few would deny the man’s credentials, nor his capabilities. Rookie is every bit as capable as his father in nearly every way, having served as one of the most decorated SIMS operatives in living memory. What he exceeds his father in is his people skills. While Kain was a harsh, brutal man, Rookie is something of an optimist, as able and willing to round out an underperforming agent or interrogate a high-value prisoner as he is to enjoy a night out with the guys or babysit for an overworked co-worker. Rookie is a cheerful, optimistic man.. who is nonetheless capable of deadly precision and brutal efficiency when necessary…usually with a smile.

Name: Rookie Beland

Aspirations: Soul Mate

Career: Secret Agent (Double Diamond Agent)

Skills: Baking (2), Charisma (5), Fitness (10), Handiness (6), Logic (5)

Traits: Good, Determinator, Self-Assured, Ambitious, Outgoing

Rookie’s parents, Kain and Ellen Beland are highly successful and prominent members of the Whimsyverse society. Ellen is the respected Chief of Medicine at one of the most prestigious hospitals, a gentle and caring doctor who still finds time to meet with long-time patients despite the fact that she has earned the right to spend most of her time off the hospital floor. But she wasn’t always an esteemed doctor. She earned her stripes first as an agent of SIMS where she used her medical training to ensure that other agents - her husband included - stayed in tip-top shape. After a time, however, like many who had a soft heart and keen conscience, she couldn’t continue to knowingly have a hand in what SIMS performed. She understood the good that SIMS did behind the scenes…but for her, their actions needed to remain there, behind the scenes.

Her husband, Kain, on the other hand, is much less widely known…but no less important. As the longest-serving Director of SIMS, he spent the best years of his life protecting the Whimsyverse from threats that few knew about. Kain dallied with aliens and wizards and held his own with only his wits and his pragmatism. However, years of service left him bent and broken and the SIMS Council - an oversight committee meant to keep SIMS itself in line - finally deemed it time for Kain to retire, appointing his son to his station in his place. While his forced retirement didn’t sit well with him, Kain, always the soldier, accepted their decision and stepped down for a well-earned, though not entirely welcome retirement.

Name: Ellen Beland

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Doctor (Chief of Staff)

Skills: Baking (10), Charisma (6), Cooking (10), Fitness (6), Gardening (5), Gourmet Cooking (10), Handiness (5), Herbalism (8), Mixology (6), Wellness (10)

Traits: Good, Family-Oriented, Genius, Cheeful, Unflirty, Cheerful

Name: Kain Beland

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Retired (Secret Agent [Diamond Agent])

Skills: Fitness (10), Handiness (6), Logic (8)

Traits: Family-Oriented, Mean, Loner, Hot-Headed, Determinator

Katrina Beland is the youngest child of the Beland family and, like her parents and brother before her, an extremely capable Agent of SIMS. While she’s had much less experience than her older brother - being quite a bit younger than him - she is no less capable. However, with both a father and brother serving as her directors, Katrina found herself living in far too many shadows for her taste. This didn’t set well with the fiery girl, who hated having to simultaneously live up to unreasonable expectations as well as the niggling feeling that she was somehow able to coast along on her name alone. So as soon as she earned appropriate clearance to leave the office in which she was trained, she filed for transfer to the big city, away from her father, away from her brother…and away from her family name, so she could make her own name mean something on its own.

Name: Katrina Beland

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Secret Agent (Shadow Agent)

Skills: Charisma (5), Fitness (10), Handiness (5), Logic (5), Programming (4), Video Gaming (8)

Traits: Determinator, Self-Assured, Excitable, Unflirty, GeekFun Facts

The Beland Family are the oldest RP characters remaining in my stable, remnants of my days playing the Paladium Game Heroes Unlimited.

This makes them (Kain in particular) over 25 years old.

Each of the Belands were superheroes in their own rights.

Kain was “Nightstalker,” literally my first real RP character. He was an edgy Batman-type who dressed like the Shadow (Lamont Cranston, not the Hedgehog).

Except since I was, like, nine his look was actually based on Darkwing Duck. I just didn’t want to admit it.

Shit.

He was also my first self-insert character. I renamed him (and rebranded him) later.

He had super strength, agility, and darkness-controlling powers.

Ellen was, typical for my lazy-ass, misogynistic young self, simply designed to be Kain’s girlfriend and wife. As such, she had little in the way of personality.

Her powers were also in flux as well. Every time I created the character, she had different powers. Her most recent (and therefore most influential) incarnation was psychic.

At various times she could also control and transform into animals (which would, in some way, explain Katrina, come to think of it [see below])

Rookie was the first “second generation” character I ever made.

His powers were super strength, flight, and energy projection.

Katrina was a cat girl.

Yup, that was it. Young me was super lame. (ok, she was also super strong, as was the genetics coming from Kain, but whatever, it was still lame as hell)

Yes, her name was familiarized to Kat.

God I was so lame.

The Belands had a third, adopted child, older than Katrina. He has, unfortunately, been all but lost to the ages.

I think he used swords and had heightened intelligence.

[whimsyverseproject-blog]

I’m here to talk to you about the SIMS Initiative...

Rookie Beland is the new Director of SIMS. A capable pragmatist, Rookie is a Director for a new age, taking over from his very traditional father, Kain (see below). While there were the obvious - and perhaps warranted - cries of nepotism when Rookie’s promotion was announced, at the end of the day, few would deny the man’s credentials, nor his capabilities. Rookie is every bit as capable as his father in nearly every way, having served as one of the most decorated SIMS operatives in living memory. What he exceeds his father in is his people skills. While Kain was a harsh, brutal man, Rookie is something of an optimist, as able and willing to round out an underperforming agent or interrogate a high-value prisoner as he is to enjoy a night out with the guys or babysit for an overworked co-worker. Rookie is a cheerful, optimistic man.. who is nonetheless capable of deadly precision and brutal efficiency when necessary...usually with a smile.

Name: Rookie Beland

Aspirations: Soul Mate

Career: Secret Agent (Double Diamond Agent)

Skills: Baking (2), Charisma (5), Fitness (10), Handiness (6), Logic (5)

Traits: Good, Determinator, Self-Assured, Ambitious, Outgoing

Rookie’s parents, Kain and Ellen Beland are highly successful and prominent members of the Whimsyverse society. Ellen is the respected Chief of Medicine at one of the most prestigious hospitals, a gentle and caring doctor who still finds time to meet with long-time patients despite the fact that she has earned the right to spend most of her time off the hospital floor. But she wasn’t always an esteemed doctor. She earned her stripes first as an agent of SIMS where she used her medical training to ensure that other agents - her husband included - stayed in tip-top shape. After a time, however, like many who had a soft heart and keen conscience, she couldn’t continue to knowingly have a hand in what SIMS performed. She understood the good that SIMS did behind the scenes...but for her, their actions needed to remain there, behind the scenes.

Her husband, Kain, on the other hand, is much less widely known...but no less important. As the longest-serving Director of SIMS, he spent the best years of his life protecting the Whimsyverse from threats that few knew about. Kain dallied with aliens and wizards and held his own with only his wits and his pragmatism. However, years of service left him bent and broken and the SIMS Council - an oversight committee meant to keep SIMS itself in line - finally deemed it time for Kain to retire, appointing his son to his station in his place. While his forced retirement didn’t sit well with him, Kain, always the soldier, accepted their decision and stepped down for a well-earned, though not entirely welcome retirement.

Name: Ellen Beland

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Doctor (Chief of Staff)

Skills: Baking (10), Charisma (6), Cooking (10), Fitness (6), Gardening (5), Gourmet Cooking (10), Handiness (5), Herbalism (8), Mixology (6), Wellness (10)

Traits: Good, Family-Oriented, Genius, Cheeful, Unflirty, Cheerful

Name: Kain Beland

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Retired (Secret Agent [Diamond Agent])

Skills: Fitness (10), Handiness (6), Logic (8)

Traits: Family-Oriented, Mean, Loner, Hot-Headed, Determinator

Katrina Beland is the youngest child of the Beland family and, like her parents and brother before her, an extremely capable Agent of SIMS. While she’s had much less experience than her older brother - being quite a bit younger than him - she is no less capable. However, with both a father and brother serving as her directors, Katrina found herself living in far too many shadows for her taste. This didn’t set well with the fiery girl, who hated having to simultaneously live up to unreasonable expectations as well as the niggling feeling that she was somehow able to coast along on her name alone. So as soon as she earned appropriate clearance to leave the office in which she was trained, she filed for transfer to the big city, away from her father, away from her brother...and away from her family name, so she could make her own name mean something on its own.

Name: Katrina Beland

Aspiration: Renaissance Sim

Career: Secret Agent (Shadow Agent)

Skills: Charisma (5), Fitness (10), Handiness (5), Logic (5), Programming (4), Video Gaming (8)

Traits: Determinator, Self-Assured, Excitable, Unflirty, Geek

Fun Facts

The Beland Family are the oldest RP characters remaining in my stable, remnants of my days playing the Paladium Game Heroes Unlimited.

This makes them (Kain in particular) over 25 years old.

Each of the Belands were superheroes in their own rights.

Kain was “Nightstalker,” literally my first real RP character. He was an edgy Batman-type who dressed like the Shadow (Lamont Cranston, not the Hedgehog).

Except since I was, like, nine his look was actually based on Darkwing Duck. I just didn’t want to admit it.

Shit.

He was also my first self-insert character. I renamed him (and rebranded him) later.

He had super strength, agility, and darkness controlling powers.

Ellen was, typical for my lazy-ass, misogynistic young self, simply designed to be Kain’s girlfriend and wife. As such, she had little in the way of personality.

Her powers were also in flux as well. Every time I created the character, she had different powers. Her most recent (and therefore most influential) incarnation was psychic.

At various times she could also control and transform into animals (which would, in some way, explain Katrina, come to think of it [see below])

Rookie was the first “second generation” character I ever made.

His powers were super strength, flight, and energy projection.

Katrina was a cat girl.

Yup, that was it. Young me was super lame. (ok, she was also super strong, as was the genetics coming from Kain, but whatever, it was still lame as hell)

Yes, her name was familiarized to Kat.

God I was so lame.

The Belands had a third, adopted child, older than Katrina. He has, unfortunately, been all but lost to the ages.