#he fought. a fucking TANK. with a SWORD.

[evilkitten3]

never forget this:

I think the Bradleys are unintentionally the funniest part of fmab. Wrath is the leader of a country but King is his first name, not his title. His adopted ten year old son is actually at least 350 years old and his oldest brother. Mrs. Bradley somehow seems unaware that her son does not age or get injured. Pride is so scary and fucked up that even other homunculi don't like him, but he apparently goes to school like a normal little boy and writes essays on how cool and awesome his dad is. Wrath and Pride both hate humans but they both agree that Mrs. Bradley is pretty great. When they die, Wrath ages several decades in like seconds, and Pride gets turned into a fetus. What the fuck is up with them

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 6/?

PART 1. PART 2. PART 3. PART 4. PART 5.

You're a psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Enter: FBI)

Mark Hoffman x psychic!Reader (trouble in paradise?), with a teensy tinge of Strahm x reader. Sue me.

Word count: 5002

WARNINGS: Corruption, abusive dynamics, general Saw-levels of horror & violence. Mentions of child abuse. Not much romance in this chapter, sorry! Reader is still drinking the Jigsaw Kool-Aid.

---

How many derelict warehouses can one single man own?

The meat processing plant that you're making your way through isn't exactly easy to navigate. Much to your chagrin, Mark has left you to make your way through it yourself, apparently having "work" to do. You're not sure whether he means detective work or Jigsaw work, but you don't ask for details.

The place smells like metal and blood, two scents which are becoming more and more familiar to you with each passing day. You tap your cane along as you go, the vibrations travelling up your arm. It's taking time, but you're slowly getting used to the tool.

The responding echoes of the different sounds reveal to you the type of surface you're stepping on- concrete floors, metal grating, scattered pieces of glass. This abandoned plant is cool and quiet, your footsteps by-far the loudest sound you can hear.

The cane also keeps you from running into walls. Still, it's slow going. Not having any idea where John Kramer is doesn't help. If the echoes are anything to go by, this place is huge.

Strangely, you suddenly wish that Kerry could help you out with this sort of thing- not that this was the universe she belonged in, or the side she fought on, but you could almost hear the dry, sardonic comment she would make about the state of this place.

After fifteen minutes of wandering in mounting annoyance, you think to yourself- could this be another test? Marco-polo? With John, everything had the potential to be one.

You do have another tool that you can use to get information about your surroundings. With a sigh, you flex your fingers on the cane and reach out with your awareness instead, scanning.

There. High above you, forward and slightly to the right. No one else flutters against your awareness, confirming for you that it's just you and Kramer, alone in the plant.

Now where the fuck are the stairs...?

Slowly making your way around the warehouse, you go from room to room, feeling your way around. Every so often, you'll hit the edges of some strange, metal contraption that's impossible for you to get a clear mental picture of. You just feel jutting edges, sharp points, and thick bolts, and back away.

Eventually, you find a railing, which lets you know you've hit the bottom of a set of stairs. Climbing very carefully, you keep your senses trained on John Kramer's signature like a hunting dog on a scent.

It leads you to a closed metal door. You rap on it with your knuckles, waiting. When you don't receive an answer, you shove it open anyway.

"I know you're in here," You say as you enter, "You couldn't have met me on the ground level?"

You freeze in place, though, when you hear a shuddering breath and the hiss of an oxygen tank.

The cancer has spread like a rot, making even simple tasks difficult for him. It wrings the time from him like blood from a soaked cloth. He has a hard time even holding a pencil, anymore. It used to be his sword.

He would have met you on the ground level if he could. But he can't.

"I had faith you'd find your way," John says, after taking a deep breath.

"And so I did. You can't say I'm not resourceful," You lean your cane against the wall and walk over slowly, feeling your way over to the area where John is seated. You hit the back of an armchair, and ghosting your fingers over it, manoeuvre yourself to sit down across from him.

"And gifted," John adds. He seems to have caught his breath now, as his voice, though shaky, grows stronger, "You've experienced firsthand the kind of growth that being tested allows. What do you think of it, now?"

He's already gearing up to his thesis point, the reason why he asked that you come here today. He doesn't have the time to waste on small talk. You entertain his question.

"There's no doubt it's changed my life," you say magnanimously, "Being in a traumatic, life or death situation has a way of isolating what's important to you. Of cutting the fat from the bone."

Back when you could see, you never would have thought that one of the hardest things about losing your sight would be the social aspect of it. Not being able to gauge how people are reacting to your words- without delving into the nebulous depths of their souls, anyway- was socially stifling.

Particularly when the reaction you're trying to gauge is that of a hair-trigger serial killer. Ah, if Kerry could see you now- trading philosophical quips with Jigsaw himself.

"Detective Hoffman doesn't see the purpose of all of this, not the way he should. He's sharp, but shortsighted," John says, sounding almost wistful about it. "You've taken a liking to him, and he, you. That much is obvious. Overall, I've come to believe it's for the best. He'll need you, if he wants to continue my work... uninterrupted."

You can feel John's concern. The way he dwells on the future, knowing he won't be here to see it. Will the embers of his creation smoulder and burn out into ash after he's gone? Will it have all been for nothing?

"Amanda... she understands the lessons she's supposed to teach, but she's too emotional- unstable, at times. She will need to be tested again. Should she pass, she'll need an anchor. Someone to keep her... grounded."

Yeah, okay. That seems like a stretch. Amanda hadn't seemed to like you all that much the one time that you met her, but you don't bring that up. Instead, you ask, "So what, you want me to keep the peace between them? Make sure they play nice? Bit hard for me to keep my eyes on them now, don't you think?"

There's a pause, and you hear John move in his seat, before he takes a deep, rattling breath with the oxygen mask. Then, he continues.

"The ability to accurately predict human behaviour is my greatest asset in my work. It is an ability that, of my apprentices, you singularly possess. The others may be able to create the instruments, but only you can design the tests. Only you can choose who needs to be tested, and predict the outcomes, in the same way that I can."

You hum to yourself, mentally noting that he just referred to you as one of his apprentices. He has a point, though. Similar to the one that Mark had been impressing on you. There's a feeling of doom that lingers on the periphery of John's empire. Without you there to notice it, to be the stalwart defence and augur of his work, it would swallow everything he held dearly whole.

Gripping the arm of your chair, the words come before you know what you're saying.

"It's kind of a funny coincidence. My mom tried to drown me as a kid, you know," You're not sure why you tell John this. Surely it's a mistake to be so open with him. "She said the world was too sick. That it was easier to die."

"I know. It was in the paper. They printed your name, and everything," John replies, and it's a bit of a slap in the face. You wonder if he learned about it before or after he strung you up in the acid trap. You wonder if Mark knows about it, too. He's a detective, so it isn't too much of a leap to think he'd searched for information on you. It feels like a betrayal, just a little. "What did that teach you?"

You purse your lips, and choose not to answer his question directly. It seems the two of you keep doing that- replying to questions that the other hadn't asked. Maybe you're more like him than you thought.

"Mark thinks that your actions are justified, and that you're doing the world a service. I'm not sure how Amanda justifies it- maybe she just wants to be close to you, I don't know." You pause, considering.

"To be honest, I think what you do is monstrous," You confess, "It's brutal. Absolutely inhumane," You can't see John's reaction, and you get absolutely no read on him. He's silent, before you continue.

"But. I think this world needs monsters, sometimes. And that I'm one of them. That's what my mom taught me. That's what you and Mark taught me, too." You smile to yourself. "Probably not the answer you were looking for, right?"

Would Kerry think you were a monster for this? Maybe not initially, but after hearing what you'd been up to the last few months, you had to think that she probably would agree with you. That she'd be disgusted-

You freeze. Why do I keep thinking of Kerry like this? Out of the blue?

"Kerry. What're you doing with Kerry?" You ask John quietly. He takes another slow, shallow breath, before he responds.

"I was wondering if you would notice," He murmurs in reply, and you think you detect a note of amusement in his tone. "Like you, she is being tested. Right now."

"She has the will to live. Stronger than anyone I've met," You say steadfast. But there's a creeping feeling, hiding somewhere behind your lungs, that says wrong, wrong, something is wrong.

"We'll see, won't we? Like so many of her colleagues, she neglects life to focus on death. You know better than anyone." Despite how shaky he sounds, John somehow manages to sound smug.

Suddenly, it all seems like bullshit to you. Or at the very least, a resource issue.

"There are a lot of people out there who overwork themselves," You snipe, "But it's the lead detective on the Jigsaw case you happen to grab. Funny. You know, there are other ways to get good people off of your case."

"You're angry with me," John remarks, "Our work needs to continue. If she survives..."

Something occurs to you, then. John keeps talking, but his words are drown out by a whooshing in your ears- the thundering sound of blood coursing. You can't hear what he's saying, but one thought dominates your mind.

You could kill him. Right now.

You wonder how he'd do in one of his own games. One he couldn't anticipate or control. To be thrust into a situation where fear overtakes him, where his brain needs to desperately try to find a way out of the situation. If you had the time, you'd be interested to see how his philosophy fared under a bit of pressure.

But you don't have that kind of time. Instead, you could lean across the gap between you, wrap your hands around his throat, and squeeze the rest of the life out of him. You were blind, yes, but he was already dying, halfway to the grave. You would win a physical struggle.

Even if you weren't able to watch him die, you'd know- he would die afraid, angry that this wasn't like he planned. Terrified that it was all for nothing.

His reign needs to end. More... capable hands need to take over.

The only thing that stops you is a consideration of the consequences. If you were able to confirm that you could fully trust Mark... maybe you'd be able to make it out alive. But Amanda was out there, and she would want your blood for it. The accomplice, Dr. Gordon, was a wildcard. You had no idea how he'd react.

Patience. Be patient.

Your fingers twitch on the armrest. Abruptly, you stand.

"Goodbye, John. I don't think I'll see you again," You tell him, voice cold.

"You will. In one way, or another," He answers cryptically. Unlike your own, his voice almost seems to have a warmth to it now, "And you'll understand me, in time," He pauses, before he finally claims the last word- the last thing you ever hear him say.

"Goodbye, Oracle. I'm glad we met."

--

Kerry is dead.

Kerry is dead, and you don't know how, or why. And nothing makes sense.

You need answers. You need to speak to Mark- you'll find the answers in his soul and yank them out, if you have to.

Kerry didn't need to die like that. She shouldn't have died like that. You should have seen it coming, you should have warned her, you should have-

The door to the interview room opens. A man strides in, a presence you've felt before, though distantly. A woman trails into the room behind him, quiet as though deliberately trying not to make a sound. You sit in an uncomfortable plastic chair, your hands on the table in front of you.

"Comfortable?" The FBI agent asks, "I've got a few questions for you. Hope you don't mind."

The man's tone of voice conveys that he really doesn't care if you mind or not. It's immediately obvious that this is the man that Kerry was in contact with- he's brash, demanding, and you catch a hint of something a little feral, just beneath the surface.

"Of course. Happy to help, if I can," You pause. "You're FBI, right?"

You hear a shuffling of clothing, and deduce that he's pulled out his badge. As if realizing you can't see it, the man quickly adds, "That's right. Special Agent Peter Strahm"

Strahm. The one who knows the water as well as you do. He pulls out the chair from across from you, and sits. The woman's presence remains hovering like a spectre toward the back of the room.

"I'd say it's nice to meet you, but..." you grimace, "Allison was my oldest friend. It's only been a few hours since I heard that they'd... found her. Sorry if I'm not all together."

"You didn't hear it from Detective Hoffman first?" Strahm asks. Every word he speaks seems tinged with irritation, as though everything is moving too slowly for him and he's waiting for it to catch up wit where he's at. Ah, so he knows.

"No. I expect he was busy with the fallout from the discovery. She was his friend, too," Forcing the words through your teeth is a bit harder than expected, "The station radioed me and asked me to come in. They told me... the basics."

"How much did they tell you? What do you know, exactly?" Strahm's words are like daggers, pointed and direct. The man is quick, and gives no quarter in his pursuit. Clearly, he'll be a dangerous adversary for you and Mark.

But maybe it's the water thing- you find that you kind of like him, right off the bat. Short-temper and barely-concealed-rage and all.

"Just that she was found... uhm, in a Jigsaw trap. I didn't even know... she was missing. We haven't spoken in a few days, but she was pretty busy, so it wasn't that uncommon. And then suddenly I get a call-"

You'd met with John several days prior, and when you'd gone home, you'd tried to reassure yourself- Kerry is a survivor. She would be fine. You'd texted Mark, anxiously looking to talk. He hadn't replied.

Days had turned into nights with no news. Your dread had grown, until you got the call.

Guilt is choking you. If you'd just done something... been a good friend, a good person. Maybe all of this had been a mistake. It's too hard to think logically, rationally.

Kerry is dead.

"Sorry," You mumble, wiping the tears from under your sunglasses, "it's been a lot to take in."

"Take your time," Strahm says, the subtext in his tone demanding that you don't. Then, after barely a moment has passed, he moves on and adds, "Open the door and you will find me."

"Excuse me?" The phrase is so strange it snaps you out of your misery spiral.

"Mean anything to you? Did Kerry ever say anything like that?"

"No?" For once, you're drawing up a complete blank at the phrase. It means absolutely nothing to you. "Was it... was that something she told you guys?"

There is a long, pregnant pause. The air in the room, already stuffy, grows thicker.

"What did you just say? Can you repeat that?" Strahm asks, an edge to his voice that is equally quiet and dangerous. You wonder if you've slipped up somehow, in a way you haven't caught yet.

"Did she tell you that?" You repeat, still confused.

"Who were you referring to when you said 'you guys?'" Strahm asks. Your sightless gaze slides over to where you know the woman is standing, and you realize your mistake.

Clever. You'll have to watch yourself around this one.

"You and your partner" You say, gesturing her way. No point in pretending you don't know she's there, "Who I guess you haven't introduced yet."

"What I'm wondering," Strahm says as he stands and walks over to your side of the table, "Is how you knew she was here, if I didn't introduce her. It was Jigsaw who abducted you and blinded you, isn't that right?" He leans down, bracketing his arms on either side of you.

A man used to using his physicality to intimidate. He reminds you of Mark.

You smile up at him. Gloves off.

"I guess I've always been perceptive, Agent Strahm. It doesn't mean I'm not really blind," you reply.

You're not sure what you're expecting him to do, but it comes as a surprise when he grabs your sunglasses and takes them off of your face. He's close enough to you that you can hear his sharp intake of breath when he sees your eyes- or what remains of them.

"Sorry to disappoint. I assure you, the police department here isn't that incompetent. You can check the hospital records too, if you want. They ran a bunch of tests which boiled down to acid will do that." You look up at him, still smiling a little sheepishly, in a way you really hope creeps him the fuck out.

"That won't be necessary," He hisses out, pissed. It's hard to tell if he's angry with himself, you, or the world at large.

You pluck your sunglasses from his outstretched hand, without bothering to pretend that you don't know where he's holding them, and slide them back onto your face.

"Special Agent Lindsey Perez. Good afternoon," The woman finally introduces herself, and you nod in her direction, "As I understand it, you're dating the lead detective on the Jigsaw case- Mark Hoffman. How did you meet?"

Strahm leans away from you, retreating from your side of the table. You get the distinct impression he wants to flip it.

"Well, I knew him a little through Allison," You say, "But then when I was kidnapped- he was the one to find me. I got to know him better, after that."

"How charming," Strahm sneers, "How well do you know Detective Rigg?"

"Uh, not particularly well?" The questions are coming quickly, non-sequitur. Probably to keep you on your toes, "Don't tell me something's happened to him too?"

"No, don't worry. We just want to get a sense of how involved you are in all of this. Jigsaw frequently targets the police, and those associated with them," Perez makes a good good-cop to Strahm's bad-cop. Her voice is soothing, a stark contrast with Strahm's demeanour. You can see why they were partnered.

"And you're right in the heart of this. Tested yourself, and you lived to tell the tale. Your best friend is murdered. And your boyfriend's the lead investigator," Strahm makes no effort to hide his suspicion, "I'm going to take a wild leap here and say you know more about this case than the average civilian."

"That's true," And because you can't help it, you add, "Allison did tell me the FBI agent she was in touch with was a real pain in the ass to deal with."

Perez coughs, in a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. Strahm doesn't. He slams his palms down on the table, in a move that makes you jump.

"And now she's dead," he nearly shouts, killing the levity as he moves back over to tower over you, "And you've got nothing to add whatsoever. You didn't see anything when you were taken, you don't know anything now, is that right?"

"It is," You answer evenly, "But I can tell you this. She never gave up on Matthews. She was sure he was alive out there. And... you're right, about me being tangled up in this. It's obvious Jigsaw goes after people who are getting close to him. I've been tortured already, so I'd turn my gaze toward the other people at the forefront, if you're worried about finding his next target."

"So how were you?" Strahm all but murmurs in your ear, hovering close to your face once again, "Getting close?"

Shit. You really have to mind your words. He's good. A truth here was better than another lie.

"I take it Allison didn't tell you she brought me in as an advisor to the case, at one point? Before I was tested." You reply quietly, "I didn't want to say- to make her look bad. We were all a bit embarrassed by it. Me, her, Rigg, Mark-"

"Why the fuck has no one told me this before now?" You hear Strahm ask in annoyance, his head turning toward Perez, "Kerry brought a civilian into the investigation, and the whole goddamn precinct knew? And no one mentioned it?"

"Because I was brought in as psychic," You reply, still unable to keep yourself from cringing.

There is another long pause of silence.

"Run that by me again," Strahm says, voice tight.

"I told you I'm perceptive. Allison believed-"

"No, no, no-" You feel like you can hear Strahm pushing his palms into his eyes, "You've got to be kidding. Is everyone at this division a complete moron?"

"This is why no one told you. It didn't go anywhere, we didn't get any leads from it. It was a last ditch attempt. But maybe Jigsaw is superstitious. He must have found out somehow. I don't know." Skirting around the truth seemed to be working better than evading his questions outright.

As Kerry had often said, you weren't a good liar. But maybe you were improving.

"Is that how you could tell I was here?" Perez asks, sounding genuinely curious. Strahm lets out a noise of complaint and protest at her question. You nod in response.

"Yeah. I guess," You shrug.

"Great, great. A complete circus, all of this. Christ. I think we're done here." Strahm walks back around to the entrance of the room, his steps tinged with a frustration that echoes off of him in waves. Before he leaves, he turns to you.

"Oh, any predictions you want to tell me before I leave? Like who the killer is?" He asks, like he still can't believe what he's heard.

You say the first thing that comes to your mind.

"Just one bit of advice. Keep a ballpoint pen on you," You say. With another scoff, he leaves, slamming the door to the room behind him with so much force that the room shakes.

---

[4:53PM - Outgoing] We need to talk.

[5:12PM - Incoming] little busy right now

[5:13PM - Outgoing] I spoke to the FBI today. I swear to God, Mark. If you don't talk to me I'll ask for a follow-up interview.

[5:17PM - Incoming] you do that you burn yourself

[5:19PM - Outgoing] My best friend is dead. Fucking try me.

---

Mark calls you. He can't even spare a visit.

"Do I need to be actually worried? Or are you just blowing off steam?" Is the first thing that he says to you when you answer your phone. You immediately get the impression that he's not concerned in the slightest that you might actually report him.

"Did you rig Kerry's test to fail?" You demand to know.

"Answer my question first. Did you mean it when you threatened me?" Mark huffs out a laugh, "Because if you're going to threaten me, you should mean it."

Just like that, all of the fight in you, the anger and the fury and the guilt, is snuffed from you like a candle light. God, you're tired. You've missed his voice.

"What am I supposed to do, Mark? How else can I get your attention?" You hate how much it sounds like you're pleading with him. "You haven't spoken to me in days. You leave me in the dark. My best friend turns up dead. What am I supposed to do?"

He sighs. "I wanted to keep you out of it. Knew you wouldn't like Kerry being tested, and I didn't want you more involved-"

You laugh, strained and almost delirious as you cut him off. "Involved? Mark, up until now you have gleefully drawn me further and further into this chasm. Don't tell me you regret it now."

"Things... are going to get bad over the next few days," He tells you, voice low, "I needed you separate, so that if things go south-"

"Did you rig Kerry's test to fail?" You repeat, voice like stone, "No more secrets, Mark. You want us to be partners. I need to be able to trust you. So this is it. Tell me the truth."

"No," He answers, and you can tell he's holding something back. At your silence, he relents and continues, "But I suspected Amanda would. She's been killing all of her targets."

You let out a shaky exhale. You don't feel angry. You feel empty. Mark continues.

"Kerry was getting closer to the truth. And with those FBI Agents on our trail too... listen. John's going to be dead by the end of the week. Amanda too. I figured these FBI Agents, they'd be able to pin it all on her. Then after she's dead, it's a nice and neat end to the story," You can hear him frown. He sounds tired by it all, too, "But they know about me. They know there's an accomplice. They realized Amanda and John couldn't have strung Kerry up like that alone. I'll need to kill them both, too."

John Kramer had certainly been right about one thing. Without your influence, his empire would crumble under Mark's leadership alone.

In your mind's eye, you see a pile of limbs. Bodies piled high, twisted and broken, jagged pieces of metal jutting from their sides. The pile seems to move, breathing like a beating heart. An amalgam lump of desperate moves. One of the corpses looks at you with empty eyes. It looks like Mark.

"You can't kill every single person that catches your scent, Mark," You tell him incredulously, "You think this will end well for you if you just murder anyone who gets in your way?" You feel exasperated, but its mixed with a kind of relief: that you're talking again, that he's being honest with you. That maybe, you can move forward and get through this. That you can help.

"I can until they stop coming," Mark mutters darkly. A chill runs through you as you realize he's not kidding. He really would kill his way through hoards of people, until the walls closed in around him. Corpse pile, indeed.

"And then what? Mark, come on, think about this. You can't slaughter the entire FBI," He growls in frustration, and you continue, "Run me through the current plan. Let's talk. Two heads are better than one."

And he does. Mark tells you everything about his plan for the next game- John Kramer's final one, it seems. The testing of Jeff Denlon, his wife Lynn, and Rigg, with the two games played simultaneously. Jigsaw's magnum opus, with the dramatic return of Eric Matthews. Mark would be indisposed, cast as an apparent victim through the trial. To swoop in at the last moment, a hero.

"And if Amanda doesn't fail- well, I'll make sure she does. Amanda and John will die. You leave that to me," Mark tells you. You nod, working through the plan again in your mind.

"Okay. Listen, I really think you should hold off on trying to kill the FBI agents. They are not going to die easy, Mark. Fuck, if we just had more time, we could stage this better, to really get them off your trail..."

"You think I can't handle a couple of FBI agents?" He remarks, and you can feel the excitement at the challenge of a rivalry in his tone. You can't exactly fault him for that. Part of you had been a little thrilled during the interrogation earlier, too.

"Fine, give it a shot, then. Have it your way. Don't say I didn't warn you," You sulk. What is the point of being psychic if no one listens to you?

Mark's problem, you think to yourself, is that he doesn't realize how close this all is to the precipice of complete ruin. That he is proud enough to believe he would be able to take up the mantle of Jigsaw alone, once this last game with John Kramer and Amanda is through.

You wonder if he sees you truly as a partner, or as one of his accomplices. Despite his honesty with you, you file that thought away for later- what is it? Just paranoia? Or a problem that will need to be dealt with?

Speaking of problems: Strahm and Perez know that there's an accomplice. Likely a male accomplice, one who could do the heavy lifting.

Until they find one, they won't give up- not the agents, nor the FBI itself, which would undoubtedly send more agents in their stead to pick up where they left off.

Hm. An accomplice of Jigsaw's. You smile to yourself.

Good thing you know about a spare one of those. Who needs to sacrifice a rook, when you could play a knight?

---

A/N- Sorry this took (checks clock) four months to write. I figured it would be better to just stop agonizing about the writing/rewriting and put it out there. Do you guys mind that we're drawing away from the romance, and more toward the MC's journey? Is anyone still reading this? If not, then I'll just do what I want, anyway 😌

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban @mjrkime @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mrs-hotforhoffman @aliengutzstuff @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic

[rayclubs]

Sechs

"Baby's First International Duel"

Okay so this is really funny because I signed up for TAP-fight and that's NOT what I got. TAP-fight is considered the most gentle and safe form of combat we have. It's a fight until the first hit, perfect for a beginner, it was supposed to help me gain experience and mentally prepare for more serious fights. And then the TAP-fight tournament got fucking cancelled lmao

My wonderful coach Katya took the matters into her own hands and organized a sword-and-shield tournament instead. She invited other teams to participate, and we got fighters from the Romanian and the Hungarian teams to sign up. She offered me to participate and I immediately agreed, but when the fighters kept coming, she approached me and carefully warned me that she had doubts about sending me there. The other fighters were all men, all very big, and all very experienced - she said that if I still wanted to take part, it would be under my own personal responsibility, not hers.

Proper duels aren't like TAP-fights. You don't stop at the first hit, you keep going until the timer runs out. The timer is like this: one minute of fighting, one minute of rest, one more minute of fighting. It's way more aggressive, and it's decidedly not what I've been mentally preparing for. Was I scared? Fuck yes. Did that stop me? Fuck no haha

My first fight was against Kim. I know Kim, we're friends, but I'd never fought him before that and I knew he was fucking dangerous. He's built stiff and huge, he packs a hell of a punch, and - what's the scariest - he's fuckin uhhh chaotic in the head, like he has no off-switch and can fly off the handle at any point. Also before fighting me he'd lost to a Hungarian by technique and I didn't know how that would affect him.

He tanked me. As in, I got hits, I got close to him, and he didn't know how to deal with me hiding under his arm and scoring on his thighs and ankles, so he tanked me. With his whole weight. The first time he locked his arms over my shoulders and pushed down, I ate dirt. The audience did a collective "OUGH" and I think Katya got a little scared, but I was alright. Not like throws give you any points in duels, we're not in fucking outrance. We'd just reset and continue. He pushed me to the ground two more times. Not even with throws, just with his weight. Fuck that, I still scored.

Now, to give you some perspective, Kim has been battling for over a decade. Within his club he's almost like a coach. You know what happened after two rounds of us fighting? Overtime. Because a winner couldn't be decided. Because we scored the same.

The audience was rooting for me at that point because I'm really really tiny and Kim plays rough, using his size as an advantage. Katya looked proud as hell, Oleg - the other coach - was hyping me up. I banged on my shield in a "Have at thee!" way and everyone had a blast, it was fucking hilarious.

Kim won 28-26 and Katya congratulated him, then me on being the only [not cis guy] in the tournament, which shocked everyone in the audience and was also very funny.

I didn't expect to fight again (the Hungarian guy was supposed to win the bracket) but I guess I scored a lot of points because there was a match between him and me as well. He was taller than Kim, though a fair bit thinner, and his technique was INCREDIBLE, I was absolutely outdone and I wasn't even mad, the entire fight I just kept admiring his reverse hits and footwork. After the first round Oleg approached me and said "Great work! If you see an opening, don't let up!" which I listened and then scored not one, not two but FIVE consecutive hits in the ankle. Katya later told me the Romanian team kept cheering me on, shouting "In the legs! In the legs!"

Overall, it was the best duel I've ever fought. I did my absolute best, the other guy was a great sport, everything was super clean, no pushing, no dicking around, pure and beautiful technique. After the match I went to the Romanian team (I mistakenly thought my opponent was Romanian) and as soon as they saw me approaching they cheered and hollered. They pointed me to the Hungarian team who also congratulated me, I got to talk to my opponent and he was extremely sweet and cool. I thanked him for his admirable sportsmanship and praised his technique, he complimented my strategy and said I hit with commendable rage. I said I hit with love because I love hitting things and everyone laughed.

Later that day Katya told me she was worried I would get a yellow card for a hit in the foot - it's easy to strike the foot when aiming at the ankle, I was worried about that too - but I didn't, all my hits were clean and well-aimed. She said she was proud of me and I had tears in my eyes.

Oleg said "Good work!", I told him I did my best and he said "I know, I know, I could see it!"

Can't wait to duel again.

[gamer-paramnesia]

happy halloween!! have some fighting headcanons! (characters, obvs)

long-ish post

etoiles!! he is a warrior at heart, honest and loyal

I would think his fighting style is heavy on the footwork and agility + doing the most damage in as little strikes as possible

visually graceful, but almost impossible to follow?

matches pace w his opponents

very much on the offensive majority of the time

heavily trained (common style of fighting, but super fucking good at it so that it seems extremely unique)

soo so unserious tho

fights for the thrill!! the only time he actually got serious was the battle against the 3 codes (where he fought code!pomme… n where he died…)

incapcitates, then kills

honorable fighter! will not play dirty

tanks

large bladed weapons are his go to (swords, scythes, etc)

phil!!! survivalist extraordinaire

picks his fights! knows when he cant win

also very movement based,, uses his wings as a counterbalance more often than not (therefore making a lot of moves that are physically impossible to normal humans)

defensive fighter, fights to incapacitate?

more unique style, as he learned from mostly himself n he refined it

efficient but an honorable fighter as well

fast. like, scary fast

keeps his emotions in check (funnels his emotions into his swings)

doesnt like fighting much (lie)

will play dirty if desperate!

tanks!

best with scythes n axes

fit!!!!!!! 2b2t historian, did you know that 2b2t is the oldest-

also picks his fights (very carefully!)

hard hitter, more on the barrage type instead of the strike n wait

on the offensive, prone to switching to the defensive tho

generally unpredictable movements (hes batshit insane)

sporadic, hard to pin down style

not the most serious fighter. taunts a lot, goes quiet when focused (first i lol'd, but then i serioused >:0)

dirty fighter!! all those years of 2b2t taught him that :D

goes for the kill when stakes are high

will play honorably IF he respects his opponent/considers his opponent a good person, but even then he'll use every trick up his sleeve to win!

although,,, he will back out of a fight he knows he cant win (and even if he could win, he'd weigh the pros n cons)

kinda,, support,,,

he makes me think of a scavenger tbh

prefers smaller, more handy weapons (axes, explosives, knives, etc)

bad!!!! totally-not-a-demon demon

im gonna say it again (its that he picks his fights)

goes for the confusion tactics (feints n tricks n misleads n misdirects etc)

similar to fit in the taunts n unseriousness n the silent focus

enjoys the hunt

falls in step w his opponents when the stakes are low

refined fighting style (had a lot of time to work on it and boy did he)

when the stakes are high,,,, his fighting seems frantic yet somehow practiced, every move is deliberate

a shadowed blur on the battlefield

goes for the jugular lolz

when he has the upperhand.. he plays with his food tbh

bites off more than he can chew sometimes

prefers the defensive

also a barrage of attacks instead of wait n strike (death by a thousand cuts kinda)

plays SO dirty its not even funny (it is a little funny..)

avid scythe user!! (likes comically oversized weapons tho, like his warhammer)

roier! idk that much abt him but ive heard that hes a great fighter as well so im gonna throw in my guesses as to how he fights

gets underestimated a lot? works on his side tho bc he is a ruthless fighter

a very emotional fighter, but uses it to his advantage

on the defense a lot, brutal on the offense??

surprisingly graceful

incapacitates

not the most refined style, but very efficient

sword guy!! but like a perfectly weighted sword? (very particular about his weapons?)

jaiden!!! havent seen her pvp much but these are headcanons so-

learned from the best! (roier)

hard hitter, zones into an enemy and doesnt let up

stays in one location, pivoting is key (stands her ground)

uses her wings to gain extra speed if she had to change locations

not super experienced, but a quick learner

very defensive

channels emotions into swings (kinda wears her heart on her sleeves tho)

goes for the kill for opponents she has grudges against?

another scythe enjoyer!!

pac! also idk that much about him but he seems ergonomic

VERY graceful fighter

underestimates himself?

footwork is very particular and careful, almost like a dance

defensive fighter

either quiet, focused fighting or screaming, crying throwing up fighting, no in between LMAO

kinda a dirty fighter as well? not super on purpose but learned it from prison times

he seems like a rapier kinda guy (swords!!!)

feel free to add on!!! esp if u have disagreements w my hcs hehe

[the-hellhounds]

Walking around in the cemetery, Ravi grumbled to himself as he carried a dead supernatural being in his arms. "Stupid windigos," he muttered under his breath as he found one of the nemetons in which was placed beyond the cemetery. "Always making a mess when they eat humans."

Dropping the supernatural to the tree, he wipes his jacket off from the blood that leaked off of the wendigos' mouth. Having had to fight off the being from potentially running off again to feast on more unsuspecting humans, Ravi had arrived on time to witness it bite a deputies arm.

"Now burn in hell, you shit face." He growls lowly as he sets on fire the body of the wendigo. Leaving it to burn into the nemeton, he walks back to the rows of graves and headstones until he stops dead in his tracks. Raising his head as his nose picked up the familiar scent, Ravi makes a turn towards a burial that had two stone creatures in the shape of kitsunes.

Upon further approach, his senses go on high alert as he hears the heartbeat of someone buried alive.

"They're coming..." Jake says by the window of Jaemin's house as he peeked out to see their lost friends stalking towards them in beserker outfits.

Johnny breathed out as he rolled his shoulders and looked to Jaehyun. "Let's not die today, okay?" He says to his friend as they all got ready to fight the biggest fight of their entire lives.

As Chenle and Renjun got everyone's mates and loved ones hidden in the bunker, the rest stood their ground. Igniting themselves to be engulfed in flames, they let out deep roars to indicate that they wouldn't back down.

Pulling out an unconscious Taeyong from the grave that had oxygen tanks buried with him. Ravi couldn't believe he had found the leader to the pack that had gone missing for months.

"Come on... come on, wake up." He shook Taeyong's body, hoping he'd gain consciousness, but nothing helped.

"He won't wake up unless they get the sword through the nogistunes' heart." A deep voice says from behind Ravi. Turning his head, he spots Chanyeol standing before him. "It's how they got Donghyuck back. But they must piece back the sword quickly before it notices that you found Taeyong." Chanyeol says.

Without wasting another minute, Ravi quickly pulls out his phone and calls the first person on his contacts. "Get the sword fixed." He barks out into his phone as he hears the growls and roars of his pack from the background on the other end of the call. "I found him."

Getting thrown halfway across three houses in the territory, Haechan groans in pain as he gets Sunwoo thrown onto him. "How much do you weigh?" He groans as he pushes the younger off of him.

"Not as much as you do," Sunwoo answered with snarl as he looked down to see a gash in his thigh from one of the beserkers. "Fucking great. Now mom's going to lose her shit."

"How old is your mom?" Haechan asks, getting an unbelievable stare from Sunwoo as if he didn't just ask something ridiculous at the time.

"You're not fucking my sons mother!" Hanbin growled as he stood in front of them to protect Sunwoo from getting hurt further.

Whining from behind him, Haechan pouts. "Why not? You got to her first!" He says just as Hanbin moved when a berserker threw another punch that landed on Haechan's cheek. "Fuck!"

"Karma's a bitch, isn't it?" Sunwoo snickered as he ran off to help his father with an Oni that was attacking him.

Making a face towards the new kid, Haechan snarls his lip as he fought back the berserker.

"Haven't you learned your lesson?" Jaemin says as he appears and helps him with Jeno. "You just can't be throwing yourself at other men's women like that, or you'll get punched by a beserker, which happens to be one of our friends." He says sarcastically.

Grumbling, Haechan held the arm that had a sharp bone as a weapon so they could take down Kai, which was the beserker they were fighting among the others.

Running to hide from the nogistune while Johnny distracted it, Jaehyun held the sword that would be used to vanquish the spirit.

"Then why cause so much chaos?" Johnny yelled as he got beat down by the Oni that held him. "What for? It only causes pain to others."

The nogistune smirked in such a way that looked frightening on Taeyong's face. "Because how else would I feed? I can't feed off of others' happiness, and I know Taeyong isn't happy." It says as it walked dangerously slow towards Johnny that heaved in pain from the wounds he had. "Haechan wasn't happy either, but somehow, his loved ones always found a way to get him back."

"Loved ones," Johnny spits out, "something you'll never have."

Throwing a punch to his jaw, Taeyong growls into his face. "And it'll also be something you'll never experience-" he goes to say, but stops when he senses something. Turning his head up to the sky, the nogistune feels that the real Taeyong had been found. "No. This can't be..." He whispers as he doesn't notice Jaehyun approach him.

"But it can." Jaehyun plunges the sword deep in the nogistunes back as it pierces it right through his heart.

As the nogistune lets out piercing cries, the Oni begin to disappear into thin air. The beserkers stop attacking, their eyes fading into their normal colors as if snapping out of it.

The hounds all let out relieved breathes as their friends begin to take off the bear skulls they had on.

"Guys, I feel funny," YangYang says as he drops his skull helmet to the ground.

"That's because you have a gash on your side," Ten tells the younger as he walks over to him in his own beserker outfit.

Looking down to where he now felt the pain, YangYang felt dizzy. "Oh," he says before collapsing into Kun's arms from seeing so much blood.

"Everyone hurt, get to my medical hut," Kun announces as he takes an unconscious YangYang with him.

Baekhyun stared at Changkyun, his sharpened bone weapon having missed Kyun's head by an inch into the dirt ground. "Kyun?" He asks as the younger stared with widen eyes up at him.

"YOU ALMOST KILLED ME!!" Jake suddenly yelled feet away from them as both Baekhyun and Kyun looked over to see Chris having stabbed the ground between Jake's legs.

"Mate, why were your legs even opened!? You dodge if a sharp weapon comes at you!" Chris yells back at him as he too had snapped back to normal.

"You were about to stab me in the dick!! I had to open them after you swiped my legs!" Dropping his head back, he breathes heavily in pure tiredness from fighting for his life.

As everyone was getting treated, San sat down next to Taeyong, who had been silently drinking beer.

"You okay?" San asks as he opened up a can of beer to drink with him.

Taeyong sighed as he dropped his head back, his neck popping as he lifted it back up. "Not really..." He answered. "I'm the leader to my pack. I should've protected my friends, my family... but I failed. I put them all at risk."

"You didn't fail them," San tells him with a pat to his shoulder. "Having a nogistune inside you is something no one can avoid, but having friends to help get you back means that you've proved yourself as a great leader."

.

"Papa?" Minjun asks as he comes waddling over to Haechan and Jeno with power ranger bandages.

"Thanks, buddy," Haechan smiles softly to his one year old that looked up at him worriedly.

"I don't think a power ranger bandage will cover much..." Jeno whispers while holding his thigh that was covered in blood. Lifting up the baby hound in his arms, he cradles him while Haechan cleaned up his wound. "But thank you for helping, Minjunnie," he smiles as he presses a kiss to his cheek.

Ravi appears to help out! 🤧: @badbf-cb ( lisa ♥︎ ) - @fantasyaespa ( ningning ♥︎ ) - @fallenangel-oc ( staci & alya ♥︎ × ♥︎ ) - @lovesick-hyuck ( ♥︎ ) - @witch-renjunnie ( ♥︎ ) - @raiden-oc ( 🌺 ♥︎ ) @monsterhigh-cb ( jaemin ♥︎ ) - @livealittleoc-cb ( jay & ace ★ × ♠︎ ) - @multi-esme

[the-ultimate-pie-family]

Left 4 dead ponyville part infinity ♾️

~It has been three weeks since the escape nox was immune to her bites~ 'nox was still confused about what happened. All she remembers was running' shit guys the truck she's over heating again! "The motor then blows, stopping" shit shit shit fuck!! We're walking now everyone out 'blood, vani, copper, and ellis geared up' nox can you shoot? Yes? good, you're with us gear up. What's this suit for don't know it fell from the sky way back. can I try it on? Knock yourself out nox 'nox put on the spartan armor' damn my size oh helmet 'nox put on the helmet activate the spartan suit' "welcome back noble 6 code name the reaper loading mission" Noble 6 armor seriously?! I'm so geeking oh fuck act cool 'blood teleported outside of the truck knocking on the and busting the lock on it' we're clear. 'Ellis, nox, copper, and vani got out of the truck and then scouted ahead to the nearest town they fought off infected but no special infected' "nox spartan armor scanner would go off but stop" blood my scanner keep going off. Mine too blood 'copper was worried that the town there in is more dangerous' blood we need to find a safe place. I know keep your eyes open for a store. "A tank growled in the distance" blood?........ I know a tank, no a witch, too...... shit....... nox with me, vani with ellis, Copper cover us? Gotcha, move out and wait for my signal 'blood, and nox ran for one checkpoint leaping over stuff'

'Vani and ellis were fighting infected with melee weapons to try not to disturb the tank' where are they? 'Then ellis and vani signaled blood.' they made it ok, nox ready to fight a tank? Let's go, 'blood signaled copper as she unleashed mini gun bullets into the witch' attack!!!!!! 'Blood, ellis, vani, and nox went after the tank dodging punches from the tank while delivering deadly hits to the tank.' "The witch died as more infected swarmed the five survivors." Blood, it's copper more infected are coming. i can't hold them off much longer here. Fall back copper we need back up for this tank oh dah ahh 'blood and vani were getting used like a rage doll hitting cars, light poles, nox and ellis then they've got thrown into the store unconscious' that's not good 'then the tank died by copper' miss me bitches? Store? Store. 'Nox, ellis, and copper ran for the store and barricaded the windows and doors' not the best safe room, but it works, right? Yeah, if fighting a tank was fun, which it is. 'Nox laughed' I like you. blood nox here is funny as hell. Shut up, my head is killing me. Yeah, mine, too. Oh, sorry about that 'nox laughed, but then she remembers getting hit with vani and blood from the tank.' Don't worry, nox the bruises heal over time you just don't hurt "yet" oh I know, and this is noble 6's armor too. Yeah, me and vani lost him years ago of old age. But he died on reach. Do you really believe that cover-up death? Now that you say that I don't know, it was pretty convincing. That was the plan. 'Vani sighed' I miss our family blood....... 'Copper and nox's armor scanners went off.' Oh shit we got infected. Prepare yourself. 'nox grabbed her numb chucks, copper pulled her raygun, vani summoned her snake keyblade and blood summoned his holy energy sword' "they heard knocking then more knocking" dad mom anyone in there. rave? Yes, it's us open up, Keith ellis over here. "Blood opened the doors of the store rushing them into the store"

~They were at full power again, and then slowly, they started falling asleep, but not blood and vani, and nox, they stayed up to watch the area they upbon the roof~

So, nox zombie apocalypse different than your normal, huh? 'Vani and nox started talking while blood was rolling a few blunts' hey babe, are those blunts done? One is here, girl puff on that I'm rolling a few more 'vani used a fire spell to light the blunt' weed? Medical, actually, blood gets this with his medical card. Oohh? Wanna puff? I don't know..... it's fine. nox, don't have too 'vani puffed on the blunt.' "nox and vani kept talking while blood was planning on the next move while smoking on a blunt"

~morning slowly came nox, vani, and blood were still up without sleep~ Time to move, girls wake the other. I'll scout out ahead. 'Blood jumped down from the roof' nox go with blood keep him for me? Sure, vani? 'Nox put on her spartan helmet and followed blood' my gf sent you, huh? Yeah, she'll wake the others. Ok, don't fall too much behind 'blood and nox scouted a few areas to see if there safe' what that noise? A witch and judging by the cries, she's faking it, so she's close with more infected. Should we head back then? Nope, they'll catch up. 'Nox was confused why blood wouldn't go back, but then she lost blood' oh shit....... 'nox walked, not seeing blood she would call his name, but she didn't want to alert any infected, so she kept searching' "nox then heard a growl but a different growl then a hunter growl nox turned and saw a dog"oh hi there cutie 'nox to reach for the dog but stepped back slowly' "I'm safe if the dog don't attack me but the dog jumped passing nox attacking a charger before he charged into nox the charger died but so did the dog" no no im sorry dog 'nox then heard a jockey and she started running' shit shit i don't want my face hump by that ugly shit "then a spitter spawned but was killed by nox" not this time bitch 'nox then realized she running to a tank' fuck my life...... 'nox blasted the tank as the tank punched nox into a jockey pounce' no get this fucker off me 'blood then slashed the jockey off of nox killing the jockey getting the incapacitated nox up' ready to fight this tank nox? Fuck it we ball blood 'blood and nox charged into battle' "the tank crushed blood amd launched nox across the town to a safe room where her spartan armor went into lock down before the crash killed nox

To be continued

Mod pie: holy fuck intense nox is in lock down till she's found and blood got crushed but not dead and the others are in dangerous area ooooo getting excited i am

Tags: @ask-coppertop @vanitythevantropist @nox-lunarwing

[rcdfield]

chapter two: ghost story !

I am empty of everything. I am empty of everything but the thin,  frail ghosts in my room. ───── Jean Rhys

tw: none word count: 6.9k author's note: all my friends hate pierce...

Delirium was embracing her in its wet, tight, and sultry grasp.

It wasn't the loss of blood. She wouldn't have heard voices, then, or the tightness in her chest or the snake from the core of her body slithering up to engulf her in its poison, filling her with this cold fear until she'd choke on it. Only memories did this.

No.

They had given her something. Jill didn't feel her limbs—not completely, at least. Her body was numb, and her mind was too far away, somewhere, in shattered recollections of her past life.

She felt his eyes on her. It was a cold, dark winter around them. A cut over her cheek, bruises over her body, hot breath leaving her lungs. His presence announced him like the howling of a wolf. Her tongue heavy on lies, and her hand bloodied by betrayal. She had killed them.

Memories were a funny thing. They and dreams are so rarely differentiated, like twins, only able to see the differences if you looked closely enough. Jill had once made memories up—when she had been lying in the small bed in that decorated room in the mountains of Northern Spain. The light of the moon shone through as the silence that had usually been disturbed by the soft breaths of her roommate now spread over her. Jill had been awake and imagined a scenario where her life turned different, where she hadn't taken her first life that day. Where she'd fall asleep with a smile on her face and not with dried tears on her cheeks.

Everything before that night felt like a different life. She often had forgotten things. Places, voices, smells, music, all overwritten by false names and false histories and fake smiles. Even her name... She knew Raul had called her by her name, the only thing they hadn't taken from her, but every then and now, she wondered if perhaps her mind had been making this up too.

And then, she was thrown into it like cold water. Late Winter, somewhere in Bulgaria, the air smelled of dust and mold, the wooden planks underneath her betraying every step of hers through the only man still standing. He had been walking towards her so calm, so collected, as if he had all the time in the world to kill her, but the cold gaze in her eyes destroyed the picture of a hunter and its prey. No, they were both killers, both predators. There was no mistake in that.

The thin walls of the abandoned hotel were no match for them, and throughout the memory echoed the pain—a sword clashing against a metal arm.

Jill jolted as her body stirred awake, the taste of the already-gone pain ripping her from the dream. She squinted, a bright white light welcoming her, and her instincts raised her hand in a fist, ready to lock in with the face appearing before her. Her wrist was easily held back, and Jill blinked, urging her eyes to give her vision back faster.

          "Easy." A kind voice tried to calm her. A voice she knew.

          "Rogers?" She sounded raspy, throat dried out just as her mouth. Jill took down her fist, looking around. A hospital room. The smell of sterilizer brought back even darker memories, making her shiver. She hated hospitals. Steve Rogers sat beside her bed with a small notebook in his hands, looking just as exhausted as she felt. His clothes had spots of dirt on them, and his short, blonde hair was messy. He looked so far off from the confident soldier she had fought side by side in New York.

          "How are you feeling?" He asked, eyes wandering to her side for a minute.

She followed his gaze. Her tank top and sweatpants were gone. In their place was one of those horrible hospital gowns of which she never had fond memories. Wearing those meant she fucked up. Jill grunted as she stretched a bit too far, her skin close to splitting again.

          "They said you were lucky. No vital organ hit, but it might leave a scar," Steve explained.

          "I don't scar easily," Jill said, already working on the several machines she'd been attached to.

Rogers stood again and tried to hold her hand back from removing the IV.

          "You should rest. They just patched you up."

          "I'll live, Rogers." Jill swallowed the grunt. "I survived worse."

Her wound on the side reminded her of sharp pain clinging to her side like an animal striking its tiny teeth in her skin. Jill took a deep breath, counted, and focused on anything else. She knew the routine. She could put it aside for a while. Swallow the pain down. She did survive worse.

          "How long was I out?" Another side effect she hated about sedatives. The complete loss of control, of memory, not knowing what went on, not being able to defend herself or do something. Her eyes fell to the window. The sun was high up in the sky, welcoming a fresh Spring day. A cherry blossom bloomed outside, white petals falling from it and flying against the window.

          "Five hours. You were knocked out before Natasha brought you in."

Her eyes searched around the room, only to be disappointed by the Widow's clear absence. There was only them. No Natasha, no nurse, no doctor, but outside the hospital was buzzing with people, running into different directions.

          "Where is she?"

          "She didn't tell me. She only said that she had some things to take care of and asked if I could keep an eye on you," he answered, and his blue eyes searched hers. Jill turned away.

Steve Rogers was someone she had figured out the moment she had seen him alive and walking on the tarmac of the SHIELD helicarrier—perhaps even in the frozen wreckage of the HYDRA ship, surrounded by the dead bodies of the Russian Special Forces team that had tried to get to him before she did. But he had certainly more to say. Dressed as if he had come out of a movie out of the forties with his slick brown leather jacket, check-patterned shirt neatly tucked inside pants, and perfectly styled blonde hair, she didn't actually believe he was the Captain America. But he was. The one and only.

As Jill had walked up to him, the faint hint of a smile on her eyes, he greeted her with a polite Ma'am while she tried to hide the smugness from her face. And this was the man she had killed twelve other Russians for trying to get to his body and use whatever they could've gotten from him. Before she could exchange more pleasantries with him, Natasha had already joined with a twitchy Dr. Banner, who had been looking around the tarmac as if he had been expecting a bomb to go off any second.

But Steve Rogers had looked at him, as if he was a normal guy and not a ticking time bomb. The super soldier was the embodiment of a perfect boy scout, and it had rubbed her nerves the wrong way. Hell, for a moment, she had even thought about joining Stark's side in the little testosterone-filled argument, both trying to figure out who the bigger man was. Whatever she thought of Stark, at least the man was honest about himself. He was narcissistic, a womanizer, a damn pain in the ass, and liked to point out that he was, certainly, always the smartest person in the room, but Stark knew it. He didn't hide his charming little attributes behind a mask of a self-righteous, star-spangled patriot act.

The perfect little American soldier. She had to laugh. No one was perfect. Everyone had ulterior motives somewhere hidden deep within them.

Up until now, Jill just hadn't found Rogers'.

Her hazel eyes fell back onto the super soldier who fumbled with a small, simple notebook in his hands, still looking at her with narrowed, watchful eyes. She thought about teasing him, something to make him lose his composure. After some time, she had noticed how the corner of his lips tucked a bit up whenever Natasha would make a little teasing joke that some could interpret as ambiguous. The first time she had done it, he had even looked away, avoiding the Widow's eyes, but she had seen him around her the last time, and he seemed to have gotten used to her teasing nature.

However, Jill was curious if Rogers would be to hers.

          "Want to take a picture, Rogers?" Jill asked. No smile, not even a crinkle of his eyes.

          "You know him?" He asked, throwing the question in the room as if she was supposed to know exactly what he meant.

Jill raised an eyebrow, the smile rivaling that of the Mona Lisa's never fading.

          "Excuse me?"

          "The shooter," he answered, dry, matter-of-fact.

His muscles tensed, eyes never wavering from her, but hers did.

          "Natasha told you."

She saw him nodding from the corner of her eyes.

          "I met him. Several times. While I was with NIDO." The name laid on her tongue with bitterness, the residue of a poison long swallowed that had already taken its permanent place in her DNA.

          "He's part of it?" Steve asked and leaned back.

Jill let out a dry chuckle. The idea was so absurd.

          "God, no. Whoever he is working for, they do not like NIDO," she answered, taking another step to the window displaying the buzzy hallways of the hospital. Only now did she see the STRIKE team outside, Romlow standing right at the other side, vigilant of everyone passing. "Or they didn't. I'm not so sure about that now."

Jill heard a rustle. He was moving. Her muscles tensed, and she peeked over her shoulder. He was now standing only a few feet away from her.

          "What makes you think that?" His voice was almost nice. The Good Cop, she thought.

          "Because he hesitated," Jill answered, looking back outside into the hallway. Rumlow's eyes stared at her through the half-opened blinds. "And he never does."

She felt Steve's presence behind her. Her hand twitched, suppressing the instinct to kick him away from her. "I don't follow." Same tone, same kindness dripping from his voice. He still tried it.

          "I think he might wanted me alive, and there is only one reason for that," I continued, muscles tensing. Rumlow's eyes still watching me. So did Rogers.

          "Seems like my mother found me."

The door opened, bursting whatever danger had laid in the room. Steve's and Jill's eyes shot to the new visitor, who only raised her eyebrows at them both. The tension inside Jill's muscles subsided, but her fingers held an iron grip around each other.

          "Am I interrupting?" She asked, looking between Steve and Jill as she closed the door.

          "Not really," Jill answered, and the faint smile returned on her lips as she looked at Steve. There it was, a sliver of ice in his eyes. The lack of trust dripped from them as he looked back at Jill. Yet, Jill noticed something more interesting. His eyes fell on Natasha quite often and Natasha on Steve's. Jill got the feeling, she was interrupting something.

          "Rumlow is outside. HQ is waiting for you," the Widow explained, eyes moving from Rogers to her. "Both of you."

          "Great," Jill sighed, annoyance swinging with it. She peeked through the blinds. Rumlow's hand was pressed to his ear, saying something.

          "I'll have to change," Jill smiled, tilting her head to the side as she looked at Rogers. It was less of a statement and more of a way to get him out of the room.

He nodded. His eyes fell on Natasha as he walked outside, taking the stiffness in her muscles along with him. Rumlow greeted him outside. She used their talk to close the blinds before crossing her arms and searching Natasha's gaze. One smile of hers was enough.

          "What?" Natasha asked. The corner of Jill's lips tucked upwards.

          "He's pretty," Jill stated. Voice hiding a little bit of mischief.

          "Interested?"

Jill's smile widened, turning into a deep chuckle, as she shook her head. Natasha's faint one, accompanied by a raised eyebrow, felt almost like an invitation.

          "Oh, no," Jill answered. Her smile never left her lips. "I'm not really into the whole Boy Scout act."

Natasha's eyes kept locked with hers, neutral, observing. How endearing. She really tried to analyze her, to pick her apart.

          "And what are you into?" The Widow countered, teasing her, trying to get a little more information out of her.

Jill tilted her head, eyebrow shortly peeking upwards, as she looked to the side. Her hazel eyes remained there before tracing the way back to Natasha. There was no light in Jill's eyes.

          "Whatever the mission depends on."

The sunlight in the room disappeared. Clouds moved in front of the sun, and the pale pink petals of the blossom outside crashed without a sound against the window. Jill heard children play somewhere in the distance, their laughter dampened by the closed window.

          "Did you tell him?" Natasha disrupted the silence. She hadn't moved, didn't make another sound.

Jill turned around and opened a closet. Simple dark sweats with a SHIELD emblem were tucked away in there. She hadn't expected to find anything in there. One less trip back to her apartment. She figured SHIELD had already secured it.

          "Tell him what?"

          "About your friend." A certain edge swung along Natasha's words—something even Jill couldn't analyze, label, and put in a drawer as she did everything. She scoffed, turning her back towards Natasha while scraping off the hospital clothes. The bruises on her body were minor—nothing Jill wasn't used to—but the taped wound stood out among them. Observing it smoothed the way for the pain to reach her head again.

          "He thinks I'm in on it," Jill stated, opening up about her observation of Rogers. She had seen it, the same mistrust everyone welcomed her with. The weary eyes, the tensed muscles... Rogers did not see her as something even remote to an ally.

          "Are you?"

          "That's very low," she answered, taking a look over her shoulder.

          "We have no time being nice," Natasha answered, eyes now fixed on Jill, similar to how Rogers had watched her just minutes ago. "Nick is dead, and we have no idea who wanted him dead except you."

She didn't expect the pinch, the ghost of a needle stab inside her gut. Jill stopped, the sweatshirt halfway over her body and her eyes frozen on a spot on the wall. Nick Fury. Dead.

          "Whatever Rogers and you think of me," Jill said, swallowing and turning away from the Widow. "I wouldn't hurt Nick."

For once in her life, she might have even said the truth. There was no reason for it. Fury had been more of use to her alive. He had kept her out of sight from NIDO, out of Katerina's long claws. He had been a shield. The irony didn't get lost on her.

          "I know," the Widow explained, and her usual distanced smile appeared on her. Sometimes, it reminded Jill of Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, wondering if it was truly there or a trick of your imagination.

          "Why ask then?" She swallowed again.

          "To see your reaction." The words hung in the room like puppets from a string, taking her back to the interrogation room they had put her in four years ago when Natasha and Fury had offered her a chance—a chance out—a chance for vengeance—in exchange for Rogers' whereabouts.

Fury had said, displaying a picture of Raul and a newly turned fifteen-year-old, grinning wide into the camera. A plastic tiara on her head while he stuck out his tongue for the camera. Her cheeks were red, and she had a fuller face. 'Babyface' Raul had called her, while the hazel eyes shone as bright as the candles on the cake. She hadn't recognized herself in the picture.

The dead hold no grudges. She had been knocked to the floor, bones aching, blood in her mouth. The words imprinting on her mind. Only ghosts do.

          "He never hesitated before. That's not his style," Jill said, interrupting the pause.

          "You mean he let you live?" Natasha asked. An unsual surprise slipping from her tongue.

          "He always completes his mission. He never fails."

          "You survived him. More than once," the Widow stated, frowning.

          "Because I always had a Plan B and a Plan C. And, well, you know the alphabet. I never got into a fight unprepared."

          "You were unprepared today, and yet here you stand. Very much alive." Natasha's little inquisition on her was unmissable, and—unusual for Jill—she did not know what her conversation partner wanted. Most of the time, it was the first thing she'd find out about them.

Jill turned to the Widow, a smile absent from her lips and hazel eyes glaring at the former Soviet spy.

          "What do you want to hear? I don't know why he hesitated. I don't know what his plan was. I—"

His eyes. He had looked into her eyes.

          "I've never seen any emotion from him." Jill huffed. "Except when I stabbed him. That did make him a bit angry." A faint smile slid on her lips as if she was remembering something fondly.

Bulgaria. The only time—and the first—she had seen them. She had kicked him in the face, the goggles springing from his face, and then she saw them as he turned back to her. More machine than human, he had stared at her. He had watched every step, every movement, every counter to his attack. Just as she did. He preferred his left to punch and to strike, but after that, when he had caught her hand as she was about to strike him with her knife, he had caught her with his right hand, his flesh meeting hers. Somehow, she had expected it to feel cold, just like his blue eyes, but they weren't. It had been warm.

And then he sent her through a thin wall, breaking a rib in the process. He had kept walking, ignoring the two slices from her knives on his arm and leg, straight in the direction of his target. A geneticist NIDO had wanted. He killed him before she was back on her feet. He'd been gone, leaving her with the useless corpse of a man over fifty and a failure of a mission. It had been her last mission for NIDO—and it had almost cost Jill her life.

          "How many times did you two cross paths?" Natasha's voice brought her into the present.

          Jill thought about it. "Four— no, five times now, counting last night."

The Widow raised her eyebrows as she watched Jill sitting on the hospital bed again. Her mind was absent. She had been his target last night. He hadn't hunted her as he had any of his missions before. It could only mean one thing.

          "He hadn't been sent to kill me."

The frown on Natasha's forehead deepened as she walked over to the chair Steve had been sitting in. She let herself fall into it, sitting across from her.

          "Kidnapping isn't usually his style," Natasha explained, following Cuerva's thoughts—thoughts she knew the process of and easily replicated in her own mind. They mirrored her own.

Katerina Ladrón—a name banned from the Red Room. A name Natasha had only heard once she had got out. One of three Black Widows defecting the Red Room, and the only one who was still alive. She had heard more stories about La Reina than she'd like to. Whatever the former Widow's reasons had been to leave the Red Room—and Natasha could think of a few—it hadn't been for a kinder heart. La Reina was brutal, having taught her little birds everything a Widow knew, everything a Widow was made of, and took it and made it even worse.

To her own surprise, she had never expected the Cuerva sent to steal from Tony Stark would have been La Reina's very own Princesa. Her beloved favorite, and after defecting to S.H.I.E.L.D., her biggest disappointment.

But these were things Jill had hidden behind a vault of charming lies, seductive smiles, and cold eyes. Natasha had never heard her talk about NIDO. Not in a personal sense anyway, but more so like the objective of a mission. The details you'd need to take out a target.

          "It was only a matter of time," Jill whispered, her eyes set into a void in the room. "La Reina doesn't like to lose."

Her voice trembled, and for the first time she had known the Cuerva, the deadly assassin, the fearless shadow—or heartless Cuban Barbie, as Tony liked to put it—Natasha saw something similar to fear in her eyes. Something that made her slide her forward on the seat and put a hand on her knee. She noticed Jill twitching under the touch, barely noticeable, capable of being disguised as a light tremor, but she knew what it was—she recognized it. When Jill's eyes fell into hers—hazel—Natasha thought she'd hear a young girl's laughter. It made her stomach turn and her throat a bit tighter, but she put on a smile.

          "She will have to deal with it," Natasha replied, hand hovering over Jill's knee.

Jill chuckled, looking back down on the floor. Natasha noticed the way her lips trembled, but it was too methodical. She didn't sob. She didn't cry. No tears. She just stared at the floor and moved her lips, and then Natasha recognized it. Numbers. She was counting.

          "I knew what it meant if I'd leave. What it could cause," Jill swallowed. "Part of me just hoped that after four years of hearing nothing, not even a whisper or another Cuervo send after me, she had decided to cut her losses."

          "She's gonna have to." There was a promise hidden in the Widow's voice.

          "Yeah," Jill huffed, lips pressed together, holding back the thoughts lying on her lips, desperate to flee. Her hazel eyes fell on Natasha. "Promise me something."

It wasn't a question. She nodded at Jill.

          "I'll do what I can so she won't get me alive, but if I ever get in the position where I'm not able to—" Her voice broke for a second. "Promise me you'll make sure of it.

The implication hung in the room, and the acid in her stomach turned. Natasha heard the cries of a little girl in the far distance. Her lips opened, but she was disrupted by a heavy knock on the door. Rumlow came inside, his patience lost on his face.

          "HQ is waiting." 

Rumlow hovered over her like a vulture. He said he was instructed to keep an eye on her—for her own protection, but Jill didn't buy it. His eyes were more set on her than anyone else around them. He watched her movement, more than the exits, and looked into the rearview mirror, which was aimed at her more than on the passing street behind them. She was surprised he even let her enter the locker room alone, but he did.

She changed into some clothes she had left behind: jeans with a black top and a leather jacket. Her sneakers were exchanged for some dark, comfy boots she had already worn for a while, which fit her perfectly. Her accessories—a bit of make-up, a long choker necklace, a silver ring, and a bracelet—banished every sign of a rough night. No one would have guessed she survived being stabbed in the side.

As Jill closed the locker, her eyes fell on her name tag, and for the first time, she understood that Nick Fury was no longer there. The name tag dug into her eye like a thorn, unwanted and unpleasant. Her jaw tensed, and with a quick grab, she ripped the tag from its holder and crumpled it between her fingers before throwing it in the corner of the room.

The wide SHIELD emblem on the door screamed at her.

Without wasting another thought, she stepped out again. Rumlow, who had leaned next to the door, pushed himself off. He looked her up and down but said nothing. He somewhat looked sorry for her.

          "You alright?" He asked as they walked to the elevator.

          "You tell me. You've been hovering over me since we left the hospital." Jill had no interest in beating around the damn bush anymore. If he thought he could bullshit her, she would show him it was a mistake to do so.

          "You've been stabbed. Just wanted to make sure you don't faint," he explained, standing behind her as the doors closed and the elevator announced their way to the top.

Before he could comment, she pushed another button on the panel.

          "Ground Floor." The voice announced.

          "We are supposed to go upside," Rumlow objected. She felt his muscles tense, his breath deepening.

          "No, I am. You're not. I can go from there alone," Jill explained. Her voice left no room for arguments, and even Rumlow understood she was pissed off.

          "I was tasked to—"

          "Rumlow, I will kick you out of this elevator if I have to. I will talk to Pierce, but I don't like being watched," she pressed between her teeth. "I'm not a damn child."

The elevator dinged again, and the door opened. Rumlow didn't move. A moment passed, and the door waited patiently. She was about to move until Rumlow took a step forward. His dark eyes landed on her as he walked outside, but he said nothing. The last thing he saw was a cold, joyless smile of hers as the doors closed again and the elevator continued its way a few levels higher.

Jill closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She did not trust him.

This wasn't a damn crush of his. She knew men when they were influenced by her, watched the way her delicate curves moved more than her lips, only looked into her eyes when she wanted them to, and gave her that horrible smile that some men seemed to have inherently got wrong before saying 'You have such a beautiful smile.' Just the thought made her reach for the railing inside the elevator and look outside.

          What a fucking joke.

Rumlow, however, hadn't looked at her that way since the hospital. He had kept her eyes on her as if she was a mission, a target and these kinds of gazes she knew all to well. Something was off. There was no reason to keep an eye on her inside the Headquarters.

The elevators stopped again, but she wasn't at the top yet. Her mind conjured up an image of Rumlow again, having somehow gained super speed to catch the elevator, but instead of short dark hair, she was welcomed by a tall, blonde man in a blue, red combat uniform.

          "I cannot catch a break," Jill said, her usual humorless smile appearing as Steve sighed and entered the elevator. The door closed again, and the elevator continued to the top. His shield almost brushed her shoulder as he stood beside her, not looking at her.

          "How is your wound?" He asked, finally breaking the silence

Jill turned her face towards him. He hesitated before meeting her gaze. She thought of seeing genuine concern in there for a moment, but she just shook her head.

          "Better. Not that deep. Thankfully."

It just put one more argument on her long list of arguments that the Winter Soldier hadn't tried to kill her.

          "Good," he commented, returning to his staring battle with the floor.

Jill huffed a silent laugh. The last time someone asked her so quickly and briefly how she was was in 2003, after getting into a fight with a girl she had later put on a list. A list that had evolved into something much darker than a normal high school girl should have. A list that had taken its final form the first month she had spent at NIDO.

The elevator sang again, and they stepped out. Roger did not honor her with another glance before they reached Pierce's office, but apparently, neither did he to a blonde agent who walked past them. And Jill thought the elevator had already frozen between them.

          "Captain," Secretary Pierce greeted Rogers, shaking his hand and introducing himself.

          "Sir," Roger said, shaking his hand. "It's an honor."

Jill traced the cuticles of her thumb with her finger, swallowing the urge to roll her eyes.

          "The honor is mine, Captain. My father served in the 101st," Pierce welcomed Steve, a smile playing on his lips before his eyes fell onto her.

          "Agent Pérez. I'm glad to see you alive," he said, shaking her hand as well. Jill forced herself to put on the usual neutral smile she reserved for people.

          "Thank you, Sir, so do I," she replied, her voice respectful. Steve's eyes fell on her. There was not one trace of an accent. One he had only briefly heard once before when he had heard her talk with Natasha a year ago.

          "I must say it's impressive how you evaded the assailant. I see why Nick recruited you back then," he complimented her before turning his attention back to Rogers, gesturing them to come inside.

Jill had never taken a step into Pierce's office. She had only talked to the Secretary two times: in the main foyer on the ground floor and at a S.H.I.E.L.D. conference a year ago. Otherwise, she would have avoided talking to the Secretary of the World Security Council. He was a rhetorician, a man who'd rather wield words than an actual weapon—didn't mean they could be just as fatal.

Pierce's office was a wide space with cold cement walls and a panorama window right at his desk in the corner of his room, giving him an overview of the D.C. landscape. By the door, a grand seating area with a television screen any home cinema would fade in jealousy was placed. He gestured for them to take a seat.

Jill sat down with her back against the wall while Rogers took the spot next to her at the chair towards the door. She frowned, but Pierce joined them before she could form any more thoughts. He had brought a thick white file from which he pulled a picture, offering it to Rogers. Jill recognized Nick and Pierce on it, both shaking their hands, mutual respect written over their faces—and Nick still had a better depth perception.

          "That photo was taken five years after Nick and I met. When I was at the State Department in Bogota," he explained, a warm smile forming. "ELN rebels took the embassy, and security got me out, but the rebels took hostages."

Jill watched as Pierce frowned, deep wrinkles and lost in the memory of that day. His eyes fell to the side.

          "Nick was deputy chief for the SHIELD station there. And he comes to me with a plan," he smiled at them both. "He wants to storm the building through the sewers. I said, 'No, we'll negotiate.' Turned out the ELN didn't negotiate, so they put out a kill order."

          She didn't miss Pierce's grey eyes on her. "They stormed the basement, and what did they find? They find it empty. Nick had ignored my direct order and carried out an unauthorized military operation on foreign soil. He saved the lives of a dozen political officers, including my daughter."

          "So you gave him a promotion," Steve concluded, and Jill was almost amazed at how neutrally he said it, with no sign of conviction—something that would have certainly dripped from her voice.

Pierce's smile cemented on his mouth, light vanishing from his eyes.

          "I've never had any cause to regret it," he explained. "Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?"

She watched Rogers. His posture straight, eyes never fleeting away, not even a muscle in his face twitched. Like a statue.

          "I don't know." It was a lie.

Something about Captain America lying changed the air. Her gut picked it up like a bloodhound trail. She had spent almost her entire life with liars, believing what they fed to her as truth, painting them like an artist—it was almost too easy to spot it on Rogers. It stood out like a rusted nail.

          "You know it was bugged?" Pierce asked him. Her eyes switched from one man to the other, her hands playing with the bracelet around her wrist.

          "I did because Nick told me." Truth. She saw Steve relax his muscles. That man really hated lying.

          "Did he tell you Agent Pérez was the one who bugged it?"

Steve's eyes fell onto her, and she forced herself not to shoot a glare at Pierce. She didn't shy away from the Captain's gaze on her. His blue eyes dug into her—as they had before in the hospital.

          "She followed orders, Captain. Don't hold it against her," he said, and everyone from the outside might have eaten his protective tone right out of Pierce's hand. He gifted her an encouraging smile. All it did to her was feed the urge to wipe it out of his mouth. Politicians... instead of a knife in the back, they'd throw you under the bus with well-meant half-truths.

          "Nothing personal, Rogers. Nick asked me to, and Nick—" Jill sighed, eyes falling on the picture of him and Pierce. "Nick doesn't trust anyone."

Steve didn't say anything to this. He only stared her down. She slid deeper into the chair.

          "I want you to see something, Captain," Pierce interrupted them, hands moving over a console beside her. The screen bringing up a footage of a man sitting in a grey, cold room and staring at the table. Interrogation.

          "Who hired you, Batroc?" A man dressed in a dark suit asked him, circling him. Bartoc. She had heard the name. Just recently.

          "Is that live?" Steve asked.

          "Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not-so-safe house in Algiers." Pierce almost sounded amused about it, the corner of his lips lifting.

          "Are you saying he's a suspect? Assassination isn't Batroc's line."

          I laughed. "You don't think that guy is the Winter Soldier, right?"

Silence spread in the room, only interrupted by the sheer endless and useless questions of the SHIELD agent interrogating Bartoc. Steve didn't look at me, his eyes falling onto an empty space underneath the screen.

          "Agent?" Pierce asked her, stopping the live footage. The bit of relief the noise had given them in the background was gone—and now she felt as if she was in an interrogation.

          "It was him, Sir," Jill answered.

          "The Winter Soldier is only a ghost story. A myth."

          "So were Thor and his brother Loki until the latter came down to Earth and destroyed half of Manhattan with an alien army," Jill answered, the warm amber inside her hazel eyes vanishing, leaving behind only jade. "With all due respect, Sir, but a ghost doesn't shoot at me from across the street and chase me down over four rooftops only to stab me in the side."

          Her fingers twitched towards her side, but Jill pressed her palms on her thighs. "He is very much real, and I fought against him."

          "The legend says he never fails, Agent," Pierce said, disbelief echoing in his tone. How did you survive?"

It was instinct. A move before her mind could follow, but her eyes locked with Pierce. There was no warmth in his eyes—one he had offered Rogers before—but genuine curiosity was swinging in his question, but there was something more. Something that made her eyes and ears lean into his every move.

          "I'm good," she answered, plain, simple, giving a fact.

Alexander Pierce huffed, amused about her explanation. "That you are, Agent. I have no doubts about it."

Her muscles relaxed, aching from the tension she had held before. She hadn't even noticed it. Her body had taken over.

          "But Winter Soldier or not, no, Captain," Pierce dismissed her again, looking at Rogers. "We do not think Bartoc is the assassin."

Obviously not...

          "No, it's more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to attack the Lemurian Star, and he was contacted by e-mail and paid by wire transfer." Pierce brought up the white file and handed it to Rogers. She recognized the familiar look of not-so-legal money transfers all too well. "And then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts, the last one going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech."

          "Am I supposed to know who that is?" Steve asked. Jill's hand slid over to the file. Rogers gave it to her without hesitation. She overflew the paragraphs of information.

          "Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 14-35 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 14-37."

'Really, Nick. To obvious. Too easy to trace back to you.' Jill thought, sighing.

          "Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?"

A question that piqued her interest as well. Something wasn't right here. It didn't add up. Or it wouldn't if Jill didn't know how paranoia makes men. Her eyes fell on Pierce.

          "The prevailing theory was that the hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour, and that led to Nick's death." The accusation somehow pricked her like a thorn. She knew damn well that everyone had a price. Everyone was corrupt to a degree, able to manipulate if you knew how. But money. Fury wasn't interested in money unless it could buy him information.

          "If you really knew Nick Fury, you'd know that's not true." At least one thing Captain America and her agreed on.

          "Why do you think we're talking?" Pierce asked him and nodded, approving of Roger's statement—even proud. He stood up, strutting towards the wide window. "See, I took a seat on the Council not because I wanted to but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists."

Steve beside her rose, his eyes never leaving Pierce, while Jill turned the bracelet on her wrist once. The dullness inside her intestines would fade. Instead, it took a permanent throne there, rotting, decaying. Pierce leaned against the window, eyes fixed on the horizon.

          "We knew that despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, that to build a better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down." Jill took a deep breath as he turned his glance back to them—onto her. "And that makes enemies."

She bit her tongue, silencing the words lying there, ready to erupt. She had heard this excuse a thousand times from all sides. The ones people called the Good and the ones deemed the Bad. She had watched systems being burned down—once she had help holding the damn torch—seen people assassinate each other with the excuse of the end justifying the means and every time she heard it, the urge to slash and scream and hit had been almost uncontrollable.

She was no good person. She'd never be one. Jill accepted this a long time ago, but at least, of all things unholy, she'd never call herself a saint while washing her hands in the blood of others.

          "Those people that call you dirty because you got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today makes me really, really angry," Pierce explained, staring them both down.

Jill joined Steve at the end of the seating area. His shield was broad over his back, his hands tucked on his belt, and his posture straight. The Secretary's eyes fell on her, narrowing for just a second before locking on Rogers again. She turned her bracelet one more time.

          "Captain, you were the last one to see Nick alive. I don't think that's an accident, and I don't think you do either. So I'm gonna ask again," he continued. She watched the steady pulse on the older man's neck. "Why was he there?"

Even if the Captain's eyes did not leave Pierce, Jill felt him keeping her his vision. "He told me not to trust anyone."

Her gaze fell.

          "I wonder if that included him," Pierce stated. Steve briefly turned his eyes towards her before looking straight into the other man's eyes.

          "I'm sorry," Steve said. "Those were his last words." Her eyes narrowed, looking at his pulse. Just as steady as Pierce's.

          "Excuse me." Steve took one last look at her—again, neutral, no direct reflection of his inner thoughts on the surface—no. A slight twitch, eyebrows closing in before straightening again, but he turned around again and headed for the exit.

          "Captain." A warning hung in the room. Pierce's voice low. Steve turned around.

          "Somebody murdered my friend, and I'm gonna find out why. Anyone gets in my way, they're gonna regret it. Anyone."

Her steps echoed in the wide-open office. One, two, and before her third step, Jill stood in the vision of Pierce, obscuring the view on Rogers. The jade in her eyes cold, careful, calculated. She didn't speak, didn't raise her voice, solely her eyes set on Pierce before she turned to her side and stopped next to Rogers, who watched her join him.

          "Understood," Steve said to Pierce, nodding at him.

They both left his office, and Jill felt the icy daggers thrown by Pierce's eyes inside her back.

ENEMY MINE MASTERPOST / SEASON ONE MASTERPOST

[haloguyfttp]

So I just realized I never really thought about nor posted it, but after coming back to Nightreign and killing the new souped-up version of Gaping Jaw I decided now to list the Nightlords in order of least to most favourite and as short of an explanation as to why. (I will not include the aforementioned Souped-Up Gaping Jaw, maybe once they've released the super versions of each boss I'll list those separately).

In 8th and last place, Sentient Pest aka Gnoster. I just don't like it. It's a duo boss of caster + tank, I haven't even fought it solo because I just don't like fighting them, don't care for the vibe or the music or anything. Overall I don't necessarily hate anything I just also don't like anything about this fight APART FROM the Phase 2 transition. The whole wasteland being lit up with flowers or whatever those are as they combine is very cool.

7th place, Augur aka Maris. This boss has a cool song and vibe but just takes way too fuckin long. You're also put on a time limit if you don't have lightning to interrupt its unavoidable map-wide sleep nuke so that can get in the bin. Besides that I just don't find it that interesting. It technically has 2 phases but they barely change anything, and again the fight just takes way too long as you chase down either it or the tentacles. Real boring after the first couple kills and no challenge unless you couldn't get a lightning weapon.

6th is Fissure in the Fog aka Caligo. Similar problem to Augur, takes too long. It flies across the map several times, it puts the ice under itself so you can't even attack as often as you could, just excessively slow. But it is much cooler, great music, great design, great attacks. Just a shame the fight itself sucks.

5th is Tricephalos aka Gladius. This is the first boss and really hammers home that this is a co-op game when you're new. That being said it's a fantastic introduction. Lots of big but simple attacks, cool design, good music, and the only weak point is the trio section can sometimes completely screw you over solo as they can just attack at perfect intervals on rare occasion to catch you regardless of when you roll.

4th is Gaping Jaw aka Adel. A solid boss with simple attacks, flashy specials, and a pretty simple design. Honestly it's incredibly easy to kill this fella and I'd put Gladius over this were it not for the trio phase being really bullshit sometimes. The lightning effects like the cracks on the ground post-slam are cool, and it's just a nice little fight.

The top 3 are my favourite and it's a massive leap from 4th to 3rd. Frankly these last 3 are so much more fun than the others that I'm explicitly putting this here to break them up.

3rd is... Night Aspect aka Heolstor. Yup, the final boss is 3rd. He's very cool, and he reminds me a lot of Vendrick, particularly at the start when he's just standing around in the wastelands with his greatsword. I like to imagine this as what a Full Power Vendrick could've been. But yeah, badass specials in phase 2, simple phase 1 that exists mainly to prepare you for what's to come (namely delay city), and just a really fun boss. Takes some getting used to and he does hit really hard, but a very fun boss after those initial learning runs.

2nd is Equilibrious Beast aka Libra. I fucking love this goat demon thing. It is so cool, its music is fucking amazing, and its fight is chaotic and lives up to its gimmick of "Madness". It's one of the only bosses that makes you check your positioning repeatedly while still pushing you with direct attacks. I love this guy, but he does feel a little excessive sometimes which is why he comes 2nd.

And finally, in 1st place and sitting at the top of the mountain, Darkdrift Knight aka Fulghor. Look, I'm a sucker for knights, 1v1s, and big moves, and Fulghor's got all of em. The slow massive swings with his sword that blast wind like Nameless King, the big stomps that crack the earth around him, the lightning nuke that smites all players if you don't interrupt him, and phase 2 where he turns into some kind of souped-up Gundyr. Love this boss and love fighting him.

Honestly Libra and Fulghor could swap places depending on the day. In particular, I'd say with a group I prefer Libra, but in a solo run I prefer Fulghor. But yeah, that's my list. I know a lot of people like Caligo and Maris but much like Ancestor Spirit in the base Elden Ring I just don't get it. Anyways thanks for reading if you bothered.

[deliverred]

♡

Callum means "dove" figured it went well with the "peace/light" of Geoffrey and Lukas' names

Clearly takes after Geoffrey more in looks, though he did inherit the pale ass freckles that become more prominent if he's been hanging out in the sun from Lukas. Built like a Disney prince, fuckin' Dorito shaped.

Knight pipeline kid, some sort of heavy armor mounted unit like a Great Knight. HP/Atk heavy, with well rounded but sorta mid def/res/skill, abysmal spd. Exceptional with a lance and not too bad with a sword because of auntie Lucia, do not give this boy an axe for the love of god.

An excellent rider, of course taught closely by Geoffrey from a young age. Has a big, beautiful tank of a buckskin horse named Haymaker! Partly because of his coat color, but also because he'll lay people out. The one time Lukas got within the same vicinity as the horse, he was promptly kicked hard in the ribs (fucking busted, laid up for over a month and only mildly arguing with Geoffrey that he shouldn't have been standing behind the horse at the time) and never went near the animal again. Callum is still trying to convince him that Haymaker is sweet...

Wonderboy overachiever burnout so hard....

When you have two parents that both fought two different gods, that's sort of a lot to live up to -- even if neither of them pressure him about it. Callum has wanted to become a knight for Crimea or the One Kingdom ever since he was little, and he's worked hard to make it happen but he absolutely did not pace himself. Not sure if he's cut out for it, but really wants to follow in his fathers' and others' footsteps (he grew up around so many knights...)

A tad too serious and scathingly sarcastic at times, he can come off a bit cold towards new people but offers quiet and gentle companionship once he warms up to people. Breaking the ice with him is actually as easy as telling a good (or bad) joke; once he's laughing or trying not to smile, you're all good.

[yb-cringe]

It’s 2 am I should be sleeping but instead of sleep brain there is just VEGERETISH. Not even coherent thoughts at this hour. Just what if Eret and Vegetta fought a bunch of withers together for fun. Technically it’s because Eret needs Nether stars for beacons because they wants to make another big gay beacon thing BUT Foolish finds wither fights annoying and Eret is still too nervous to approach anyone else for help. So starts fighting them herself. Vegetta sees her get the achievement and is like “why is this crazy guy fightinh a wither what the fuck”

Goes to check it out. Cut to his jaw dropping when this crazy book nerd is tanking withers in nothing but vanilla gear. No modded weapons or armor!!! She says they get in her way!! What the fuck! What the fuck!!!

Or if Vegetta saw Eret and Foolish sketching building designs together and got jealous because he thought that was THEIR shared interest thing. What do you mean Eret designed their own castle AND L’Manberg’s walls (those are SEXY WALLS) this is so not cool.

Although. Vegetta will begrudgingly admit they seem to have good taste.

holy fuck yeah.

Eret would 100% tank withers in vanilla gear. She's so used to her other servers that all this modded shit is so weird to her-- She never uses it. It's interesting to catalogue but thats all. She prefers familiarity.

Which is very sweet and also batshit insane considering Vegetta bathes Foolish in moonlight swords and spiderclimb gear and goddammit!! shes gonna get herself killed! and thats foolish's partner!! he cant just.. let that happen

so he does Try to give her armor. gear and weapons etc. it goes Not great mostly bc eret doesnt understand why he's just trying to give her things and why he gets so upset when she says nah im good.

She continues to be frustratingly good at holding her own without vegettas help. she does begrudgingly allow him to come with her on PARTICULARLY dangerous quests. jsut bc vegetta looks like a kicked puppy when she starts to say she's fine.

[7outerelements]

So I'm playing Clair Obscur. I encounter a new enemy, looks unique. He's obviously fire themed, an ultra-jacked elemental version of an enemy I've fought before. For some reason, I cannot nail his attack timings. Maybe I'm nervous after he slapped my mage into unconsciousness two seconds into the fight, and I'm crap when I'm jittery. Maybe it's because I refuse to dodge for some reason and try to parry everything. In any case, I'm way back on my back foot instantly.

Every time he hits a character - my tank, my damage dealer, or my mage - he leaves burn status effects behind, along with lots of blank space between their current and maximum health. I frantically heal everyone as I try to learn this fucker's gimmick. Every weird enemy like this has a gimmick. I thought I was toast when I fought a giant sentient rock that didn't seem to take any damage, but I figured that guy out and won. I can do the same thing here. Except I'm still fucking up, and I just realized this enemy heals from fire damage. My dealer is using a sword that is fire-based. Fuck.

I keep my tank healing himself just so there's someone who can eat a hit no matter what, but I'm spending all of my time healing and failing to counter, not doing enough damage. I take a risk and try for an offensive. It does alright damage, actually - looks like this guy is, if not a glass cannon, then at least something approaching glass. A ceramic cannon, maybe.

He punishes me for my hubris, powering up. Now he does twice the actions per turn. He hits every character at once. My dealer goes down. Then he sucks the fire out of my characters and heals back to full health.

This is now a race to the grave. I revive my dealer and abandon any further thoughts of healing. I spend the last fraying threads of my mage's health bar on her most powerful attack, a multi-hit lightning combo with a crazy 5x multiplier per hit. I'm so tense I fuck the timing and don't get the full damage, but still rock the monster to the tune of two thirds of its health.

It is pissed. It kills my mage, then my tank. My dealer activates a few buffs because she's the last one standing. I consider healing. I decide against it. Instead I take advantage of the fact that the fire monster is somehow burning and switch to my dealer's most powerful stance, massively multiplying her damage potential.

The monster knows. It bum-rushes my dealer, attacking again and again. I fuck the timing again, I don't know what's wrong with me. I barely manage to parry half of the attacks. Then the second volley. I suddenly remember dodging exists, and manage to survive with a few hundred health. That gets chipped down to barely a hundred with burn damage.

My dealer uses the strongest attack I have access to, a three hit combo and my favorite coup de grace. Each hit takes a huge bite out of the monster's remaining health. The last one crits, bringing the fight to an end.

A lot of fights in Clair Obscur are pretty easy in a Sekiro way, where learning the timing makes them an exercise in graceful dominance, a demonstration of mastery more than a challenge. A lot of fight in Clair Obscur are also ridiculously, punishingly difficult, where one hit of an enemy's five hit combo means death due to level imbalance. This is one of very few fights where I felt neither dominated or dominant, a real slugfest with a couple of surprises that forced me to react on the fly. "Good struggle" is a useful term in video game experiences, and this fight was one.

[libertys-lovers]

So I had a dream where a group of heroes & I were looking for this sword that had literally unlimited power? And because my dreams give me the abilities of my sona (and my sona’s fucking OP), the group decided I was the only one strong enough to handle it??? I guess???

So ya know, I pulled it out of the ground, and of COURSE as soon as I did we got ambushed by these… creatures? A disembodied voice called them Eldritch, but they were more like trolls that looked like stone. And the whole point of the ambush was to test the sword & the people that wanted it.

Anyways, I’m telling you this, because you’ll NEVER guess who was in my group

fucking LÚCIO!!!

THAT’S RIGHT! You thought it was a normal dream, but it was actually me, SELF INDULGENCE!

He wasn’t wearing his normal aesthetic though. Like he was wearing all yellow? I distinctly remember a yellow tank-top. His locs were shorter than normal too, I noticed. But like it was still obviously him ya know?

Anyways it was just really fucking cute. We were teaming up & fought together! And despite us being in this action-packed scenario, we still found time for us to smooch a lil 🥺🥺. I could really feel him man…. It was so damn wild 😭🙏

[soulsxng]

I got hit with the sudden urge to do Tank/DPS/Support/Healer for the muses yesterday, and so that's what we're doing now, strap in y'all. (Just 10 at a time though, because god knows I'm gonna end up rambling about some of them longer than I meant to, and if I did all of them at once it would be the length of a soccer field or something)

Jaspern - Pure DPS; phys (He does fight with a big fuck off scythe, so midrange usually) with a little magic-- usually death oriented magic that has the added benefit of a slow but constant strength sapping effect on those it hits.

JJ - DPS/slight support; phys (He fights with his dual-bladed spear, Ahzeel more often than not these days, but is a nightmare with just about any weapon in his hand), uses more magic than Jas does, though that's usually for the support side than outright attacking.

Ber - Support/Healer; doesn't really like being part of a fight, so he will bubble himself at the back of the battlefield, and just focus on buffing and healing his comrades. Side note, but just because he's not a DPS, that doesn't mean he can't DPS. Piss him off too much, and he'll be insta-casting about 50 meteors at the back of your head in 2 seconds flat.

Melchior - Tank/Healer; my dude really is like a weird sort of paladin. Technically, I feel like he doesn't have the defense stat to be a full-on tank, but he's that type that doesn't want to have anyone else on his team get hurt, and he can mitigate damage with his healing easily enough, so here he is. Making himself the tank anyway. Damage is phys/magic balanced.

Eluvias - DPS/Tank; Luvi goes absolutely berserk in a fight, which is why DPS is primary. He pretty much just leaps at whatever is attacking, and starts shredding regardless of if he's taking damage too or not. That's evidently why he could also be a tank. Even if he's hurt, it's like he doesn't notice it, he just keeps going until he legitimately can't. Technically he can use magic, but usually he gets so carried away with the physical side that he forgets to even use it unless he's really in trouble.

Zahine - Healer/DPS OR, pure DPS. Zai is pretty much the healer with a gun meme. Usually he'll stick to just healing, and will pick people off with magic-based DPS here and there...but man. MAN. If he goes pure DPS it's because he's angry, and then whoever is against him is better off just running away, because he's not above fighting dirty, and he's completely ruthless. Especially when the charming powers start coming out-- that's when even Io and Luvi (Or Pythius, in the few times that he's fought alongside Zahine) just take a big step back and let Zahine do his thing.

Orin - Pure support; they really couldn't fight well to save their life (literally, in this case), still, they actually are capable of using quite a bit of magic that can protect allies, or essentially debuff opponents. Baby doesn't wanna fight though, so please don't make them.

Vanyllo - DPS/occasional Support (surprisingly); his main focus is always going to be DPS, but if things are going south, he's trained pretty extensively to be able to use his magic for all kinds of different traps/ensnarements, so he'll dip into support sometimes, too. Can also use magic that limits opponents range of sight and that sort of thing.

Darrow - Tank/DPS; one of his domains is protection, after all! Aro knows how to take a hit just as well as he knows how to draw (and keep) an enemy's attention on him, to keep some of the heat off of his allies. On top of that though, he's very accurate with both sword, as well as fang and claw, so the amount of "critical" strikes that he tends to land on his foes means that he has a pretty high overall damage output too. Primarily phys damage, but he tends to bolster that with fox fire and divine damage, as well.

Eleare - Tank; another one that might be surprising. Most of the reasoning is just because they feel it's easiest to control the flow of battle from that position, but another reason is that Eleare has a lot of magical abilities that create barriers for themselves, can diffuse or weaken some magics, etc. So they're pretty tough to land consistent damage on. Most of their damage is more close-ranged magic, but they're not shy about getting more physical with their claws or fangs, instead. Or, what usually happens, is that they just shift into a massive fox/dragon/hawk/what-have-you, and they just go ham like that.

[macgyvertape]

FF14 Stormblood thoughts

Lets see, I posted my running commentary on wrapping up Heavensward in Oct '22 so it's been a while. My friend and I got busy and took a break from the game.

A long time ago I forget who posted:

“#do new players know any opinion they have about stormblood is basically akin to #someone finishing da for the first time this year and saying they have some thoughts about anders they'd like to tell you about #like cool it's understandable you have these thoughts. i however am running for the hills”

which now that I've finished Stormblood I understand, and that's with skipping a bunch of non MSQ stuff.

I'm so excited for Shadowbringers, it was impossible for me to dodge spoilers since people I follow for D2 were posting about it, so I'm going into it knowing a lot of the big spoilers while the friend I play with has no idea. So I was very excited to see a certain skunk haired character pop up post expansion patch.

Actual running commentary on Shadowbringers below, I'm so glad I took notes for when I took a break

Wow so theres swimming in this new city?

I know vaguely who Zenos is and he’s the main antagonist. Just waiting for him to be introduced since the antagonist in the beginning is a joke of a dude with a hammer

Zenos shows up with like a golf club bag of swords, I know this dude is supposed to be this game’s attempt at Sepiroth but I’m not impressed

It was very easy to predict that some of the people we just did quest for were going to die. But damn something happens to Y'shtola every expansion 

This storyline is very serious and draws on real world issues, which could not be more of a contrast to my friend and I playing it as we hangout and eat dinner

Fighting an unwinnable fight with my 2 applicable WHM damage spells. Sure he slashed me up but I feel like in universe I can heal tank through anything but a drugged drink

Wow the Black Rose is some serious warcrimes chemical warfare. 

I thought Lolorito was dead what’s a dude working for him doing here

Fuck this fish-dude with the bell. Its totally personal

Wow so the imperial viceroy is a asshole who has people kill their family for displeasing her. Really casting the imperials as absolute monsters

Wow huge underwater sections, also didn’t know the dragon-ppl lived underwater

The more Yotsuyu talks the more I’m like “hmm maybe Ilberd had a point”

Susano is a delight, he’s just hamming it up

Huh so apparently Kurenai is the real princess and the person we fought was the body double, I’m going to continue this questline even though it isn’t worth it exp wise just to see how this plays out

Gotsetsu returning to the village: not sure if the intent was to have him be naive, but he comes off as an asshole with talking about how he is owed hospitality and complaining about the tone people talk to him in. Like dude, the whole village is going to face deadly repercussions if you’re seen.

I didnt realize there was a wolf-person race. Why can’t we play as them?

I thought Yugiri was gonna die when we fought Zenos round 2. Guess he’s one of those trope “lives for a strong fight”.  

Took a week break then coming back to another new faction with Cirina kinda feels like its killing the momentum

I wasn’t expecting this Sun cult, Magnai is such an asshole, like fuck off with the slavery and a double fuck you with the sexism

Gosetsu is so arrogant, like if he would just shut up things would go so much more smoothly

Is Koko and Sadu of the Dotharl trans or non binary? Great if they are. Like their belief in reincarnation seems pretty understandable if you factor in the later lore about sundered beings being shards of each other and merging over time

Can’t believe we’re letting this empire dude run away for a second time

Yotsuyu had sad childhood backstory, still not sympathetic for the injustices she commits now. 

Hien is gonna flood Doma Castle, i know this is like a historical tactic but all I’m thinking of is Rains of Castamere

Damn Gosetsu got taken out by a falling rock (ceiling), how anti climatic I’m not really torn up about it because all the characters just stood around talking

I’m gonna really hope Hien actually killed Yotsuyu with that sword blow

At first i thought some of the questnames were coincidences, but no Doma part of Stormblood has a fair amount of Hamilton references

Oh no Krile, feels like a real kick the dog moment for Fordola

Summoning a primal to bring back a dead child, the question isn’t if this will go poorly but the extent of how poorly it will go. (Although you can resurrect people in battle so I guess thats gameplay and story difference)

I appreciate how Allisaie tried another option

The Shri Lakshmi mechanics were hard and annoying, most challenging fight in a while

Big fire the death star vibes for Fordola, also I just realized she has thigh high tights with the gap between the skirt. WHY instead of armor like other characters get

A randomly appearing Estinien, how did he know to come here? Why now? I have no idea but what a cool entrance, this is the hottest he’s ever been

Does Fordola have the fuckin sharigan?!

Lyse looks hot in the new dress but its the most impractical thing for a fight wtf. Its total fanservice, player character and her fly towards eachother in what could easily be framed as a kiss then the achievement is called “cheek to cheek”

Key to Victory is the quest type I hate where I don’t have firm directions where to go and I got instawiped by the npc followers getting close to the wrong enemy. Wish I could start on very easy

So we freed Krile, what about the rest of the people in the pods?

Zenos turns into the primal dragon that used to be Ilberd, talk about desecrating Ilberd’s belief in using the power to fight the empire

This is a very anticlimatic ending to 4.0. I’m not emotionally tied to Zenos either enjoying him as a villain or hating him as a rival, more like “ah not this asshole again lets see who wins the fight by virtue of plot armor” 

So Zenos killed himself after getting 1 good fight, but I know he’ll be back. I’m imagine my character standing there like the Saitama “ok” face

Ok so Estinian stabbing the eyes means Lahabrea and Igeyorhm are super dead

Guess Elidibus stole Zenos’ body. They should have burned it

Nero being Cid’s ex is the funniest way to interpret him joining the Ironworks

Why is this Arnevald guy talking like he knows me

All of the above written before Jan 2023 and then I took a break till November

Got back into the game and its like “here’s a backstory about a guy who was the product of sexual assault from an occupying military force and his horrible childhood” and then “here’s Fordola’s sad backstory where her father was stoned to death by a mob for collaborating while he was protecting her”.

So that’s really sad, then the next quests are the Sultana’s backstory and “go to the golden saucer, try not to get distracted, challenge impossible”

The orb dissipation duty sucks, I just failed it so I could do it on very easy mode

Me: Alphinaud is gonna fuck up paying for this sword, he’s talking to a pawn broker. 30 min later: yeah he fucked up

Patch 2 sure is my least favorite, I don’t like Gosetsu or Yotsuyu 

Wow not a surprise  the Imperial diplomat is also an imperial zealot, and he’s Yotsuyu’s brother meaning that whole family tree is fucked up

Me: guess the Tsukuyomi wasn’t so infinite. My friend: One Piece was a better anime

The camera really emphasizes Asahi’s crazy eyes and obsession with Zenos. Funny since Zenos then is obsessed with the Warrior of Light

This Garlean with a bunch of Ascian mask trophies is kind of intimidating, but he much have just killed the weak sundered ones. I have no idea who he is, but funnily I know what Ascain is running around as Zenos

Extremely annoying 2 part solo duty that I had to redo when almost getting to the very end, followed by very funny Y'shtola shooting down a guy who had the hots for her

Hell yeah Exarch showing up, now the fun begins because I’m very spoiled on Shadowbringers and my fiend has no clue 

Me: Mr nap time himself! My friend: whose this guy. Such a fun intro with Emet being mean to his family and hamming it up, where he’s ???? until the name Solus is dropped

I appreciate the non serious tune and amount of dutch angles in his intro

Oh shit the Ascian hunter is Gaius (not Balter), I didn't recognize him at all since the part of his old mask around the eyes was white I thought that was his skin color

Oh I’ve been mispronouncing Emet-Selch with a ch sound. Also lmao he takes time to be mean to Varis

Ok after the 2 part negotiation with Varis I want to see Solus bully Varis some more. He deserves it

My friend doesn’t recognize the Crystal Exarch from the brief bit at all, if he didn’t remember who Lahabrea is then no chance he recognizes G’raha Tia except that G’raha has been in Dawntrail marketing 

Damn so Stormblood ends with a fade to black and then a jumpscare evil Varis grin…

Post quest cutscene: Zenos bodyhopping I guess

[hotbowlofstew]

Surprisingly they all had like.... different reactions. Somehow. Maybe not drastically different but they all were different. To some degree.

Alidae's first encounter with a primal (Ifrit) was out of necessity. She was the only person nearby with the Echo, and therefore a chance to fend Ifrit off while waiting for backup. Sure she canonically had... like the trust system with other adventurers. But whether or not those adventurers had the Echo is a different story. She was horrified. As an Arcanist with honestly more Archer training than Arcanist training under her belt, she was still fumbling with spells. She starts to get desensitized to primals by the time she fights Garuda, but Ifrit and Titan were not fun, to say the least.

Both T'lyr and Touya fought Shiva as their first primal. Which, hilariously, neither of them are fit for the cold. T'lyr is a born and raised desert lad. Meanwhile in all of Touya's traveling years, he never once lived in a cold climate. They both were the tanks in that fight. Touya had both this internal amazement and terror, while outwardly he was collected and headstrong (likely the main tank). All the while T'lyr is actively trying not to die from simply his metal armor being too conducive to ice attacks.

The funniest encounter was with Koren and Raana. Who's first primal was fucking Susano. At this point in Stormblood MSQ, T'lyr and Touya had already been sent back to Kugane to rest (lest they work themselves to death). The Viera twins have heard the horror stories at this point. But neither of them were expecting the relic gathering to lead to a primal summoning (mostly because I, too, was not expecting a primal). So queue Raana death-glaring Koren-- who was the one carrying the relics at that point --asking him if he knew that was going to happen. KOREN DID NOT. HE DID NOT KNOW. I also personally think that the twins both have to take on Susano's sword mechanic. Which again, is incredibly funny, considering neither of them are tanks, and they had just sent both tanks back to Kugane. Tis fine tis fine.

As for Sthallona, I can't say for certain who was her first primal. Lightwardens aren't really primals... but they also aren't not primals. But I think it would also be funny to think that she just happens to solo Ravana, who was re-summoned. Because she was in the vicinity when it happened, and the Vath were very worried. But also... she wasn't phased. She grew up with the Scions, in Sharlayan, where they probably had a research project on primals or some shit. I think if anything, she thought that Ravana was hilarious.

Another silly shout out to when Koren and Raana fought their first Eorzean primal... which was a re-summoned Titan. And they were both standing there, mortified, while they watched T'lyr and Touya bouncing Titan back and forth between each other... And looking to their side as Alidae comes running in, with nothing but the face of "Aw shit, here we go again", cocking her gun yelling expletives.

4/10/24

What was your wol(oc)'s reaction to first encountering a primal?

[frombeyondtheblackhole]

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 9.1

[TW: Blood, violence, severe injury, bone related gore and zombie/undead related body horror. Please take care of yourself and stay safe. Warnings bracket the worst of the potentially triggering content and a summary is provided if you feel the need to skip that part. Some violence and minor injuries are outside the brackets. If there is a specific TW that you would like me to include in the future feel free to let me know and I will do my best to add it.]

Quackity, Purpled and Charlie, spent over an hour searching through the woods and the land around Las Nevadas, well mostly just Quackity and Purpled while Charlie hovered around asking annoying questions. Neither The Zombie nor Foolish were anywhere to be found. 

Quackity told Purpled and Charlie to Head back to Las Nevadas and look there while he did one more check around the perimeter for any clues as to what happened. Quackity took his time. Now that he was by himself he was able to think more clearly. He shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned.    

Quackity wasn’t exactly sure what he had witnessed. He’d never seen something exactly like it, one minute Foolish was standing in front of him and the next he was gone and this zombie lady was in his place. He might argue with the other Las Navadas recruits, and they might not have the best opinion of him, but one thing was certain, if anyone messed with them, especially on Las Navadas property, They were messing with him and he wasn’t about to let anyone push him around, not anymore, never again. 

Quackity looked up as he rounded a sand dune, the walls of Tubbo’s “cookie” outpost looming up on the edge of Las Nevadas land. Quackity Scowled. One problem after another. The whole conflict about the walls hadn’t really been resolved, Tubbo was being stubborn, unreasonable. But that wasn’t a priority at the moment, he would deal with that latter, right now, he had bigger problems. 

Quackity followed along the wall and stopped short on the road in front of the Las Nevadas toll tunnel. Ranboo and Tubbo stood on the road coming from the other direction.

They stared at each other, neither side moving. Then Quackity broke into a smile “Hey there, Fancy running into you two here. You seem to hang around here a lot, have either of you seen Foolish or a strange looking Zombie by chance?”

Ranboo fidgeted and looked away but he was always fidgeting and he was never one for eye contact so that wasn’t exactly a tell. 

Tubbo on the other hand, Quackity had been in the same cabinet with him during Schlatt’s presidency, and in the cabinet during Tubbo’s presidency, he knew what the kid looked like when he lied. 

“A Zombie you say? What makes you think we would have anything to do with that?” Tubbo shrugged. 

Quackity didn’t drop the smile. “Don’t play dumb with me. You know exactly what I am talking about.”

“Honest big man, there are no Zombies here, that's why we built the walls.” Tubbo insisted.

Ok so the kid was getting better at lying. Quackity frowned but the smile returned a moment later. “That's all good. Just be careful, she did something to Foolish, he’s gone missing, I’m worried that if she is allowed to roam free and do whatever she wants then she might do what she did to Foolish to someone else. You understand. I would hate to hear that one of you two went missing.”   

Tubbo and Ranboo looked at each other.  They definitely knew something they weren’t telling him. 

“Thanks for the warning big man, we’ll let you know if we see anything,” Tubbo smiled tightly before grabbing Ranboo’s arm and pulled him aside to whisper in his ear.

Called it. Quackity smiled, his sharp gold tooth glinting in the sunlight. He turned on his heel and headed back down the tunnel towards Las Nevadas. 

---

Cleo looked down at the dark water lapping against the stone pier where she sat, her legs dangling over the edge. The air smelled of salt, cold stung her lungs. She wasn’t shivering despite the fact that a crop top and shorts was chronically under dressed for the weather. She didn’t really notice. 

Her heel bounced against the wall of the peer as she stared out to sea. Snowchester was secluded, nice and peaceful, but it also felt vacant. There were houses but no one lived in them. Not that that was anything all too strange, Hermits built empty houses all the time, but these felt different. The empty houses the Hermits built were intended just for show, or to conceal functional builds. These houses once housed people, and now were abandoned.  

Cleo looked up at the sound of footsteps crunching through the snow and the clunk of boots against the wood at the beginning of the peer. Tubbo and Ranboo stood looking back at her. Tubbo had his hands in the front pockets of his coat and Ranboo stared at her over Tubboo’s shoulder. He never seemed to blink, it was a bit unnerving. 

Cleo pursed her lips “Um, thanks for letting me stay here kids, but-”

“You can’t stay here anymore,” Tubbo blurted out. 

Cleo blinked.

Ranboo flinched “Sorry about all this, it’s just…”

“Don’t worry about it kid,” Cleo said, getting to her feet, “I was going to leave anyway,” She shrugged.   

“Oh really,” Ranboo sighed.

Tubbo frowned “Why? What changed?” 

Cleo chuckled hollowly, “I could ask you the same thing.” 

Tubbo pursed his lips but didn’t push the issue.

Cleo walked past the two of them and started up the path.

“Wait,” Ranboo called

Cleo stopped.  

“Where are you going to stay now?” Ranboo asked. Tubbo just glared at her.

Cleo shrugged and smiled a bit to cheerily “I’m sure I’ll find a nice cave somewhere, after all I am a Hermit,” 

“Um,” Ranboo looked off to the side, tapping his fingers together. “If you need it there’s a hotel in the Greater Dream SMP. It’s big and red, hard to miss.”  

Cleo chuckled, “I’ll be alright, don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

Tubbo was still glaring at her. She turned to leave again.

“Just know that if you try and mess with us we can and will defend ourselves,” Tubbo said.

Cleo didn’t turn around “Oh, I know,” She smirked as she walked away. This Tubbo kid had guts, she could respect that. 

---    

Quackity taped his fingers against his arm impatiently as he waited in the ditch on the Greater DSMP side of the speed tunnel to Snowchester. After talking to Tubbo and Ranboo he had watched from a distance and followed them here. 

The splash of oars cutting through the water reached Quackity’s ears as a boat made its way towards his hiding spot. Quackity took a steadying breath, stealing himself as he listened carefully. The boat scraped against the shore and there was a crunch of sand as someone got out of the boat. Only one person. 

Quackity stood up and moved into view. The Zombie jumped, summoning her sword as she spun around to face him, teeth bared.

Quackity held up his empty hands and took several steps back. “Woe, woe woe. Hold on. I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

“You think?” She scoffed. She didn’t attack but she still had her guard up. 

“Just tell me what you did to my friend and maybe we can resolve this peacefully,” He smiled tightly. 

“I didn’t do anything! And even if I did, why would I tell you? You already tried to kill me once?” She said. Then her expression changed, as if just remembering something. She lowered her sword and straightened. “What do you know about perma-death?” She asked calmly.

Quackity sucked in his breath and took a step back. Was this a threat or a legitimate question? He looked at the determination in her eyes… It was both. 

He fought the urge to summon his axe. 

“Do you really think you can kill a Zombie? I’m already dead. The rules don’t apply to me!” She strode forward and pointed her sword at him. Quackity staggered back looking up at her standing over him on the edge of the pit framed by the crystal clear sky behind her.   

Was she bluffing? 

Fuck. 

She spun on her heel and ran the other direction, across the field. 

The trance was broken. 

[TW: Blood, violence, body horror. Skip to the next bolded text to avoid the worst of it] 

“Shit, Get back here!” Quackity scrambled up the bank, summoning his crossbow and letting loose the bolt. It struck her in the leg, but she didn’t even seem to slow down. Had she even felt it? An ender pearl replaced the crossbow and a moment later he felt a sudden rush as he flew through the air, switching to his axe mid-flight. He crashed into her back, embedding his axe between her shoulder blades.

Quackity pulled his axe out of her back and staggered backwards. She wasn’t dead. She hadn’t despawned yet. Maybe she had been telling the truth about being unable to die. Oh wait, she was moving.

She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees coughing up dark sickened blood. She staggered to her feet and turned around to face him again, fire and determination in her eyes.

How was she still standing? That last hit had to have broken several ribs. Quackity glanced at the exposed ribs poking out from under her crop top, edged with decayed flesh. Those had been that way before. Maybe broken bones didn’t matter?  

[TW End: Summery: Quackity chases after Cleo, she tanks a bunch of damage but is able to keep fighting despite severe injuries]

Why were his knees shaking? She hadn’t even scratched him this time, and she wasn’t as good at combat as Dream or Techno. Yet she refused to die? 

He clenched his teeth and scowled, “I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me what you did with Foolish?” He demanded. Now he was bluffing. 

“I. Don’t. Know!” She yelled as she lunged at him, summoning her sword mid swing as she brought it down on him. 

He didn’t have time to block. Instead he moved back and swung the axe up. The blunt side of the head struck her in the chin as he felt her sword cut into his shoulder and graze his chest.

She staggered back and switched her sword out for a gapple. 

Oh no you don’t. Quackity raised his axe about to lung when he felt someone jump on him from behind. Arms wrapping around his neck in a choke hold. The axe returned to his inventory as he grabbed at the arms around his neck. They were invisible, his attacker was invisible.  

“Cleo, Run!” the invisible man shouted. 

She froze, the gapple halfway to her mouth “Etho?” 

“I said run!”

She turned on her heel and started running, only pausing for a moment to eat the gapple and keep going. 

Quackity clawed at the arm around his neck. This Etho guy was invisible. That ment he wasn’t wearing armor. Quackity summoned a sword in reverse grip and stabbed behind him. He heard Etho hiss as the sword grazed him. His grip loosened and Quackity was able to wrestle free. Summoning another pearl he threw it, getting away and landing near some trees. He staggered against one of the trees, coughing and rubbing his neck. He gritted his teeth, his face twisting into and ugly snarl. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She got away. And she had an accomplice.  

They made him look like an idiot. He quickly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He had promised never to let himself feel helpless again. Never to let other people control him. Yet he had let himself get pushed around by some random Zombie and one guy with an invis pot. Fuck this. He needed to do something about this. He couldn’t let this stand.