#him leaving would destabilize the environment

[roguekaiju]

Cardinal Lawrence is always brooding and moping and shit he keeps forgetting that he's like a genuine cornerstone of the curia like... he's all ohh im gonna go and it's gonna be fine like half the Vatican wouldn't react to it like a terrible breakup

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

hi! so i started reading when christ and his saints slept (your recommendation, it's great btw) and wow george really dropped the ball on the dance cause what is this going on. like older sister against brother?? why would that work George??

i've seen tb make arguments that the usurpation set women's rights back for centuries, and that seems kind of silly cause the rule of (bloody) mary i still led to the rule of elizabeth i. personally, i think the issue of women's rights has more to do with the lack of queen dowagers and regents which are more common in real history but less in asoiaf who use their power of being mothers of the king to advocate for women, and lay the groundwork (e.g. margaret beaufort, nurbanu sultan, anne of austria, etc)

but, also what are the greens meant to do because if viserys did not settle inheritance for his sons (through heiresses) whilst he lived there's no reason why rhaenyra would do it when she's queen.

for me the greens have three options : take the throne through conquest, ask for a great council (they have vhagar they can make demands), or three literally die.

like as much as i am green supporter if i was rhaenyra and i peacefully ascended to the throne and my half-siblings who are brothers with sons of their own well, they just have to die ottoman style, because allowing them cadet branches undermines her own and in the end you get a house bourbon supplanting house valois situation (something catherine de medici committed war crimes to prevent); you can't let them leave because well 6 dragons outside of targaryen control — you might as well be asking for trouble ; send them to the citadel —well two are married to each other, one has vhagar with clear anger issues, the other has tessarion and can just leave when he wants and, not even talking about the kids with their own dragons.

the truth is the greens can't just sit and do nothing. if viserys doesn't want the trouble of his sons ,and wants rhaenyra has queen then simply don't remarry or do you your duty to the sons that you have sired.

reading christ and when his saints slepts its actually comical how house targaryen don't have mistresses and they began to have them when the dragons are dead

this was a long rant but the greens don't have much options especailly cause their living in an environment where sons inherit before daughters. i would ask how would you make the story more compelling and logical causing reading penman the dance is not.

also, big can of your writing ofcir and akab are holding me down since hotd has been feeding us crap.

Anon I've had this reply sitting in my drafts and should have answered ages ago, so my apologies for the late reply!

I'm so glad you're reading When Christ and His Saints Slept. It's my go-to recommendation for historical fiction about the Anarchy, and Penman in general is just my absolute favorite historical fiction writer. I hope you continue the series that follows Matilda's son, Henry II, his wife Eleanor of Aquitaine, and their brood of children.

You're right that the greens didn't have many options if they wanted to stay alive. The show has downplayed that aspect this season but Alicent's sons and grandsons would always be a challenge to Rhaenyra and Jace's rule. You only need a basic understanding of the world to see that they were in an impossible position. Ultimately, Viserys is the one who destabilized his succession and deserves a lot more blame than the show is willing to give him.

As for the matter of powerful women, queens regnant, and women's rights, irl history is full of powerful queen consorts like Eleanor who exercised power, defended garrisons, negotiated peace, and sometimes, as in Eleanor's case, even rebelled against their own husbands. In the Anarchy, Stephen's wife, Matilda of Boulogne, was a force to be reckoned with, besieging Dover castle and making a treaty for Stephen with the king of Scotland. When he was captured in battle, Matilda raised an army, and when her army captured Empress Matilda's half-brother, Robert of Gloucester, who was one of her biggest supporters, Matilda of Boulogne negotiated a hostage exchange and secured Stephen's release. And this isn't even a Westeros problem because we see politically powerful women who are not queens regnant in-world-- Cersei as regent for her children, Catelyn, who was basically running the war effort before Robb set her aside, and even book!Alicent, who exercised a good deal of power. In fact, somewhat ironically, show!Alicent was well set up to exercise even more power than her book counterpart. It's clear Aegon actually listened to her and valued her counsel, even seeking out her advice and guidance. Having the ear of the king is no small thing, and if she'd done anything other than belittle him she could have ended up as his most trusted advisor. Look how easily Larys moved in! But the show instead had Alicent alienate Aegon and then treated her disempowerment as if it were a function of her gender rather than a result of her inability to provide useful counsel.

So no, a lack of queens regnant is not keeping Westerosi women out of powerful positions, and you're right anon, in that HotD seems to have decided that powerful women didn't exist as consorts, dowagers, and regents even though that's not true irl or in Westeros. As for women's rights, unfortunately having a queen regnant historically has done very little for women as a whole. Royal women tended to align their interests with other royals or nobles rather than with women as a whole, that is, solidarity is formed along class lines more often than it is formed along gendered lines. We see this even in our world today, where companies with women as CEOs in fact tend to hire fewer women in lower management positions. Rhaenyra being denied the throne doesn't mean much for the average Westerosi woman, but civil wars caused by an unstable succession can make everyone's lives demonstrably worse.

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Ugh. Chiyoh. I do get frustrated sometimes with the way she’s relegated to nothing more than a helpmeet to Will and Hannibal, because I think even the meagre arc she gets in canon still offers more potential than is generally acknowledged in the fandom. But I do think the question of how she might aid Will and Hannibal’s escape and be something of an accomplice to the shady stuff they get up to, and what kind of dynamics that might bring up with both of them, is genuinely interesting!

And the thing that lingers on my mind is her presence at the end of Digestivo, where she watches Hannibal get taken away through her rifle scope but doesn’t interfere. Which makes me think she must have had some sort of conversation with Hannibal after their conversation clearing the air about Mischa, and after Hannibal leaves the house post-Will Breakup #2, because he must have informed her of what he was going to do. And he must have reassured her that he had faith that Will would eventually come around and break him out.

Which is really fascinating, because we see her get Will’s side of the story re: his relationship with Hannibal onscreen - she learns, broadly speaking, that Will accessed a part of himself with Hannibal that he’d never been able to understand before, and that he feels that he must resist the pull of that identification. And I can only imagine that what Hannibal tells her of his relationship with Will, in this context, is similar to the tack that Hannibal’s leaning on throughout Wrath of the Lamb - that Will can’t live without him, that he can trying to walk away but he will give in eventually.

And because Chiyoh is wavering on what to do throughout her arc but repeatedly settles on saving and protecting Hannibal, on honouring her bond with him, it stands to reason that she believes him about that. @menciemeer and I have discussed in the past the fact that Chiyoh seems very drawn in by the narratives Hannibal weaves, as evidenced by her devotion to Mischa’s memory despite never having met her in life. My assumption is that she’s drawn in by Hannibal’s narrative of who and what Will is in the same way. Mencie also raised the possibility in this thread that Chiyoh is very invested in stability and very wary of chaos and uncertainty - and with that in mind, imo it’s possible that she’s invested in Will giving in to Hannibal’s influence because she believes that Hannibal might steady him and keep his more impulsive side in check. (And it also means that more emphasis within their group dynamic is on Will accepting the parts of himself that Hannibal brings out in him, so that she doesn’t have to think about the parts of herself that Will forcefully drew out.)

The last part is why I can’t really buy the post-canon dynamic of Chiyoh being antagonistic towards Will specifically because she still thinks he’s a threat to Hannibal’s safety. If Will has joined Hannibal, then that threat has been more or less neutralized. She’s got plenty of reasons to be wary of or outright antagonistic towards Will, but I’m convinced those would be much more related to Will destabilizing the little environment she’d built with the prisoner and coercing her into violating her most stringently held rule about taking a life.

[darkmaga-returns]

The propaganda campaign labeling Donald Trump as an aspiring dictator determined to use the military and national security apparatus against his political opponents is designed not to affect the upcoming election but rather to shape the post-election environment. It is the central piece of a narrative that, by characterizing Trump as a tyrant (indeed likening him to Hitler), establishes the conditions for violence — not just another attempt on Trump’s life, but political violence on a massive scale intended to destabilize the country. 

As I write in my forthcoming book Disappearing the President, Democratic Party research and media reports show that many senior party officials and operatives are preparing for the possibility of a Trump victory. Accordingly, planning is focused on undermining the incoming president with enough violence to rock his administration. Prominent post-election scenarios forecast such widespread rioting that the newly elected president would be compelled to invoke the Insurrection Act. With some senior military officials refusing to follow Trump’s orders, according to the scenarios, the U.S. Armed Forces would split, leaving America on the edge of the abyss. 

By vilifying Trump as a despotic madman who must be stopped before he can commence his reign of terror, the regime’s propaganda apparatus not only slanders Trump but also pre-emptively threatens the reputation, as well as the livelihood and perhaps the liberty, of current military personnel. The point is to push the military against Trump: When the time comes to act, will you stand for democracy or side with a tyrant who sees the military only as an instrument to advance his personal interests? 

For instance, last week the Atlantic’s editor-in-chief, Jeffrey Goldberg, quoted former Trump administration officials claiming that the Republican candidate is contemptuous of America’s armed forces and, according to Trump’s former chief of staff, John Kelly, wishes he could command the same respect that Hitler commanded from his general officers. 

[dertaglichedan]

Is The Left Preparing For War If Trump Wins?

Authored by Lee Smith via RealClearPolitics,

The propaganda campaign labeling Donald Trump as an aspiring dictator determined to use the military and national security apparatus against his political opponents is designed not to affect the upcoming election but rather to shape the post-election environment. It is the central piece of a narrative that, by characterizing Trump as a tyrant (indeed likening him to Hitler), establishes the conditions for violence — not just another attempt on Trump’s life, but political violence on a massive scale intended to destabilize the country. 

As I write in my forthcoming book Disappearing the President, Democratic Party research and media reports show that many senior party officials and operatives are preparing for the possibility of a Trump victory. Accordingly, planning is focused on undermining the incoming president with enough violence to rock his administration. Prominent post-election scenarios forecast such widespread rioting that the newly elected president would be compelled to invoke the Insurrection Act. With some senior military officials refusing to follow Trump’s orders, according to the scenarios, the U.S. Armed Forces would split, leaving America on the edge of the abyss. 

By vilifying Trump as a despotic madman who must be stopped before he can commence his reign of terror, the regime’s propaganda apparatus not only slanders Trump but also pre-emptively threatens the reputation, as well as the livelihood and perhaps the liberty, of current military personnel. The point is to push the military against Trump: When the time comes to act, will you stand for democracy or side with a tyrant who sees the military only as an instrument to advance his personal interests? 

For instance, last week the Atlantic’s editor-in-chief, Jeffrey Goldberg, quoted former Trump administration officials claiming that the Republican candidate is contemptuous of America’s armed forces and, according to Trump’s former chief of staff, John Kelly, wishes he could command the same respect that Hitler commanded from his general officers. 

This is not the first time that Trump has been compared to Hitler or that Kelly, a retired Marine general, turned on his former commander-in-chief. Kelly was the key source for a story published before the 2020 election, also in the Atlantic and also by Jeffrey Goldberg, that alleged Trump had called American WWII soldiers buried in French cemeteries “suckers and losers.” 

The veracity of Kelly’s latest revelation that Trump admires Hitler must of course be judged against the fact that he waited five years to disclose it, even if it is unlikely to have much effect on the current election cycle. The military, and veterans of the Global War on Terror in particular, overwhelmingly support the candidate opposed to waging endless and strategically pointless foreign wars. Moreover, Trump has weathered far more damaging fabrications — like the false allegations that he had been compromised by Russian intelligence — that only galvanized support for him.

The purpose of the Hitler narrative is not to alter the electoral preferences of left-wing media audiences already solidly in the anti-Trump column, but rather to justify taking extreme measures against the Republican candidate and the America First movement and ensure that the bulk of the military sides with the anti-Trump plot. Thus, it is best understood in the context of recent accounts promising, or urging, violence after the November vote. 

For example, last week the New York Times published a long interview with a scholar of fascism who declared that Trump is a fascist. The paper of record followed up with another long article by two Harvard professors calling for mass mobilization in the event of a Trump victory. The proposal suggests that private industry join civil society organizations to ostracize Trump and his supporters and engage in large public protests to provoke a crisis. Kamala Harris herself, commenting on Kelly’s allegations in the Atlantic story, claimed that her opponent “is a fascist” during a CNN town hall.

These stories are only the latest in an ongoing series of media reports warning of a Trump dictatorship. Beltway insider Robert Kagan was out of the gate early, writing even before Trump wrapped up the nomination that, without mounting resistance against the Republican candidate, America is “a few short steps, and a matter of months, away from the possibility of dictatorship.” A January story from NBC claimed that Trump was exploring ways to use the military to assassinate political rivals. 

The propaganda meant to establish a predicate to employ violence to stop Trump has been reinforced at the highest levels of the Democratic Party.   

When Joe Biden was asked by a reporter if he was confident that there would be a peaceful transfer of power after the 2024 election, he answered, “If Trump wins, no I’m not confident at all.” Then, seemingly correcting himself, the president said, “I mean if Trump loses, I’m not confident at all. He means what he says, we don’t take him seriously. He means it, all the stuff about, ‘If we lose there will be a bloodbath.’”

Biden was referring to a comment Trump made in March about Chinese efforts to build auto manufacturing plants in Mexico. The export of those cars to America, Trump said, would result in a “bloodbath” for the U.S. auto industry. Naturally, the Biden campaign used the figure of speech to accuse Trump of inciting “political violence.”

[autisticsupervillain]

FTF: Boss Battle

The show where we put a team of characters up against one much stronger or haxier character.

This Week's Fighters....

Gordon Freeman vs The RED Team!

Conditions:

RED Team restricted to stock. Gordon has Full Arsenal.

Scenario:

G-Man wants Gordon to steal some Australium from The Administrator. RED Team tries to stop him.

BOSS: Gordon Freeman

Many shooter heroes have gone up against impossible odds. Conquered incomprehensible threats from beyond the stars and bested physical gods. And yet, the greatest of all these heroes isn't an uber space marine or a super masculine macho man. No, Gordon Freeman is simply an ordinary scientist with a crowbar.

Gordon Freeman was once a diligent theoretical physicist working at the top secret lab known as Black Mesa. However, one of Gordon's experiments accidentally punched a hole into another universe, causing an alien invasion. Gordon is forced to fight for his life and fend off the invaders, making him the savior off Earth. Unfortunately, this puts him on the G-Man's radar, forcing him to serve the mysterious being and his employers for the rest of his days... until Half-Life 3 comes out... assuming it will.

Luckily, G-Man mostly seems to want Gordon to kick alien ass and Freeman's got plenty of tools for the job. For starters, he never goes into battle with his trusty HEV suit. The Hazardous EnVironment Suit comes with a whole bunch of nifty features, boosting his otherwise normal human stats to superhuman levels. With it, he's durable enough to tank military air strikes with 134 megajoules of force behind them and survive hits from lasers that do this to solid steel walls.

Source:

Moreover, most of Gordon's stronger weapons can kill Alien Grunts, who are strong enough to completely obliterate steel gates. By using Gordon as a measuring stick to estimate the size and thickness of the wall, it can be determined that it would over half a ton of tnt to generate this kind of explosion, roughly 0.723 tons of tnt to be precise.

Source:

The suit also has a built in radiation detector and an ai voice that informs him of any grievous injuries. Upon sustaining an injury, he's pumped full of painkillers potent enough to let him shrug off bullet wounds. Similarly, the suit's antitoxins are strong enough to reverse the effects of headcrab poison, which leaves him on the brink of death with just a touch, in seconds. Hell, he can even tank hits from antimatter weapons, endure extreme heat and cold, endure dangerous acids, and shrug off high voltage electricity. Even morso, the suit can be upgraded, allowing him to leap several Kilometers when using the long jump module.

He also carries a large array of guns. While Gordon has the typical shotgun, AK, and RPG ensemble you would expect from a shooter protagonist, he also has some unique guns. He carries two crossbows, one shoots tranquilizer darts while the other shoots bars of molten metal. He carries the Gluon Gun, which shoots unstable Gluon particles so powerful that they make people explode, the Tau canon, which shoots Tau particles, or molecular particles that make up matter on the Quantum Level, and the hive hand, which shoots alien bugs at people like a wasp machine gun. His Pulse Rifle shoots energy projectiles and, when charged up, shoots a ball of antimatter that bounces around everywhere and erases everyone it touches on contact. His most iconic gun, however, is the gravity gun, which manipulates gravity to allow him to throw anyone and anything that gets in his grasp around like a ragdoll, even erasing people with its antimatter energy should he grab them with it thanks to a handy upgrade the Combine gave it. And that's not even the only gun in Gordon's arsenal that can flat delete you, as the Gluon Gun can destabilize the Gluon Particles of its target and rip them apart on the subatomic level.

With these powerful weapons, Gordon has fought off impossible odds with ease. He stopped an alien invasion within the span of a week at most and turned the tide of a hopelessly one sided war against a galactic empire in the span of two days. He curb stomped his way through the US Military, is fast enough to react to and dodge rockets, and has even impressed the reality warping G-Man with his remarkable abilities.

Source:

Having said that, he has a few weaknesses. For one thing, his suit's durability relies on its battery, so he'll frequently have to recharge it if he gets hit too often. He also doesn't wear a helmet, which leaves his squishy human head exposed for his superhuman enemies to crush.

Despite that though, Gordon Freeman is universally beloved as the savior of mankind and is dreaded even by godlike, reality warping aliens. That says a lot about a man who used to just be a pimply scientist. The right man in the wrong place can achieve just about anything.

Team: RED Team

It began in 1850. Wealthy English industrialist Zepheniah Mann, owner of Mann Co, was convinced by his greedy, idiotic sons to purchase land in the US to expand the company. Zepheniah agreed, only to discover that the lands he purchased were useless dust bowls and lifeless gravel pits. Not only that, but he'd contracted many horrific diseases during his trip to the states that quickly ate up his health. Dying bitter at his incompetent sons, Zepheniah would write his last will on his rotting skin, splitting the worthless lands between Redmond and Blutarch to ensure that they would fight over it for the rest of their lives.

Desperate to get the other's half of the fortune, the Brothers Mann would turn their halves of the company into Reliable Excavation Demolition (RED) and Builders League United (BLU) respectively, using them as fronts to wage eternal war on each other. In their pointless bid to get this worthless land full of fuck all to themselves, the brothers would hire nine of the greatest mercenaries in the world to fight for them. The exact same mercenaries. For both of them. Don't think about it.

They would cycle through numerous teams over the years, until the 1960s where we'd meet the most iconic ensemble of the RED Team. The Team that would come to be known as Team Fortress!

The Scout is fast talking brawler from Boston he thinks he's hot shit and thinks he's God's gift to women. Because he is. Canonically. God told him so. He's easily the fastest person on his team, more than quick enough to outrun trains and flat out dodge rockets. And while he's certainly not book smart by any definition, he's a good enough scrapper to kill a Heavy in one on one melee combat. If he can't bust you up with his bat, then the wide spread of his shotgun would likely shred you to pieces, while his pistol finishes you off. He's swift enough to somehow double jump, durable enough to drink radioactive soda, and strong enough to blow you out of the park with his taunt kill. Hell, he's durable enough to survive three of Soldier's rockets blowing up in his face simultaneously, despite being heavily injured, tanking a combined energy equivalent to 0.007 tons of TNT!

Source:

The Soldier, otherwise known as Jane Doe, is batshit crazy patriotism personified. He wanted so badly to fight in World War 2 that he went on a one man crusade against Germany for years before learning that the war ended in 1949. He's mad enough to wrestle bears while covered in honey and crazy enough to try to fly by shooting rockets directly at his feet. Which makes it sll the more absurd when it actually works. A madman with a rocket launcher is one thing, give him pseudo flight and you've invited death himself onto the battlefield, raining rockets down from the skies and bludgeoning your teeth out with a shovel when he lands. Or blow you both up with the grenades on his chest. Or just shoot you with a shotgun. Whatever works.

The Pyro is a mysterious pyromaniac of indefinitive origin, indeterminate gender, and very definite lack of sanity, viewing all the chaos and death he brings through the fantastical lens of Pyroland. In reality though, she's burning down everything in sight with reckless abandon, either with their flamethrower or with their bare hands. Ryu would be filling a lawsuit if he wasn't currently ashes. And lest you think that's all the Pyro has, many a foolish Soldier has forgotten about the power of airblast and paid dearly for it. With a burst of compressed air from her flamethrower, Pyro can juggle enemies in the air and send projectiles and rockets back at the enemy.

Tavish Finnegan DeGroot, aka The Demoman is one of best and most dangerous Demomen to ever roam the Earth. If he weren't, he wouldn't be able to discuss it with you, now would he? Despite his constant drunkeness and lack of depth perception, the Demoman can easily blow the enemy to pieces with both the careful placement of clever sticky bomb traps or the ruthless spamming of bouncing explosive pipes. He can even take a note from the book of his dear friend Soldier and blast himself into the air with his bombs.

The Heavy Weapons Guy is easy to mistake for a lumbering brute, but beneath the muscle and thick Russian accent is a brutal and intelligent mercenary. Mikhail is a gulag survivor who works to provide for his family and possesses a degree in Russian literature. With enough beef to out muscle the rest of his team and a massive minigun loving naned Sasha, the Heavy rarely needs to think too hard to mow down everything in sight. And if he does, he knows exactly how to best rip a man in half or blow the head off with a shotgun.

Deil Conagher aka The Engineer is a humble Texas gadgeteer with eleven PHDs. While his trusty shotgun gives him an option in a fight, Engie is much better off building supports for his team, such as massive minigun sentries with built in rocket launchers to protect the base, ammunition and health dispensers to restock his team, and teleporters to keep his team on the frontlines and tele-frag any poor sap who stands on the other end of it.

What Mr. Ludwig lacks in his regards for the Hippocratic Oath, the Medic makes up for in his mad scientific expertise. Don't let his lost medical license fool you, the Medic is a veritable genius. His most iconic invention, the Medigun, can heal the brutalized bodies of teammates, put people's bodies back together, and can, when fully charged, render whoever he's healing temporarily invincible. He was once able to resurrect the dead by just... putting their blood back inside them and even managed to steal his teammates souls and surgically attach them to himself in order to scam Satan himself. His bonesaw can hack to pieces and his syringe gun gives him a method of self defense from afar.

Nick Mundy is a rugged, relaxed outdoorsman from the outback with a tense relationship with his parents and also the greatest marksman on Earth. While his machete and SMG give him options for dealing with close quarters combatants, the Sniper is most at home sitting back and blowing the heads off whoever he's been paid to kill this week. He's a professional. Nothing personal.

The Spy is the mysterious master of disguise of the team, with a penchant for acquainting his knives to the spines of his unsuspecting foes. His watch allows him to turn invisible for a limited time to best ambush his foes, while his disguise kit allows him to impersonate anyone on Earth, from your teammates to even famous celebrities.

Despite the team's frequent zany antics and at times debatable intelligence, they are the greatest mercenaries on Earth for a reason. Together, they've beaten everything from killer bread monsters to evil wizards and even a robot army. They are, for better or for worse, the greatest team of gunmen on the planet. Often, for far worse.

Throwdown Theme:

Throwdown Breakdown:

So... Gordon doesn't wear a helmet. If knly the RED Team could take advantage of that somehow. Like say they had a, I dunno... Sniper of some description. Don't know anyone like that, guess Gordon stomps.

But in all seriousness, it's a question of if the RED Team can keep Gordon distracted for long enough for Mundy to get his shot. And, in short, no. Not at all. Naturally, Gordon is much stronger. Much. Much Stronger.

What I mean is that Gordon is a wooping 103x stronger! (0.723 tons of TNT vs 0.007). Meaning it's entire possible that Gordon simply mows throw the whole team before Sniper can even get a single shot off. That is a massive problem, as even Gordon's regular guns should be strong enough to reduce the mercs to giblets with a graze with that gap.

Hell, Sentry Buster explosions completely obliterate the mercs and those themselves are much weaker than Freeman at 0.09 tons of TNT.

Source:

Medic is a necessity for this fight to even be debatable. The Medigun's ability to pull mercs back together after they've been annihilated is safety net they desperately need. After Heavy and Pyro get shredded and put back together (they are the ones meant to be engaging head on after all), the team will likely split up to keep Freeman from decimating them all. I tragically don't see Heavy really surviving the early fight due to his low maneuverability and Medic possibly might not either. Once Gordon sees him resurrect someone, he'd likely make Medic a priority, leaving the team without their method of taking hits. Thankfully, Gordon isn't likely to wipe immediately. A bunch of people comparable to, if not superior to Gordon in speed all running in different directions means Gordon is guaranteed to miss a few of them at first.

However, this forced split up would turn the game into an intense game of cat and mouse, giving a certain stealth expert the time to shine. While any Merc could theoretically ambush Gordon and shoot him in his obviously unarmoured head if they play their cards right, Spy is in the best position to do so. Gordon has no way of seeing through invisibility and given Spy's specialty, he's liable to go invisible as soon as the fight starts. This gives him the perfect opportunity to just... shoot Gordon in the head while invisible. Problem solved.

Even is Spy does die in the early bloodbath, there are some scenarios where the team can still win this. Pyro is fast enough to airblast back some projectiles early on and kill Gordon that way, but he's unlikely to survive thr bloodbath due to a lack of mobility options. Similar to Sniper or Engineer. But, Scout, Demoman, and Soldier likely would due to their own movement options. One well placed sticky trap is that would be needed to get Freeman's head.

There's this misconception that the TF2 Mercs are all incompetent idiots who do their jobs by accident moreso than on purpose. And while some of them are fairly stupid and they're all very unhinged, it's pretty consistent that they can organize very well when the chips are down. They know how to fight. How to strategize mid-fight, and even how to plan. And against a threat as overwhelming as Freeman, that would definitely shine.

This Throwdown's Winner is...

The Red Team!

The Boss has been defeated!

[loominggaia]

randomhedgehog asked: I think we can all unanimously agree that Moswen, Tarajeen or Oggsa are the top three worst moms. All three of them get some credit for being the products of their environments and childhoods, but theyre still top of the list for me. I'm just not sure which of them is the worst. Sofia being a slave owner doesn't really have anything to do with her parenting imo. Like, yeah, it's awful but this isn't a Evilest Character Poll, it's for Worst Mom, which she imo isn't. Yeah, she could've and should've divorced Foster, but what would she have done then? Evangeline doesn't seem like a single mother friendly place. Renee is pretty bad, but was a product of her upbringing/location. She also loved her daughter. Karenza was literally a grieving mother desperate to bring back her unborn baby when she made Isaac. And to her credit- she didn't just leave him outside on the street for anyone to take him! She made sure that only a special group of people could get him! Now, who we should really talk about is Elskas mom! Aka, the centauress who abandoned her newborn! randomhedgehog Hold it! I just sent an ask In about my opinion on this poll, but I forgot to take into consideration that Tarajeen literally wouldn't have been able to get help with her condition even if she tried! Damijana would've locked her up anyway!

--

These are all excellent points!

>"Sofia being a slave owner doesn't really have anything to do with her parenting imo. Like, yeah, it's awful but this isn't a Evilest Character Poll, it's for Worst Mom, which she imo isn't."

I would argue that she's setting a bad example for her children by owning slaves, essentially teaching them, "it's okay to dehumanize other people, as long as they're this people or that people". Not all Evangelites own slaves. In fact, some are disgusted by the concept and refuse to engage with that cultural practice at all. If Sofia had better critical thinking skills, she could be one of them. But I think she is too narrow-minded and intellectually lazy to get more perspective on this. She's open minded about some things (like lycanthropy), and set in her ways on others (like slavery).

>"Yeah, she could've and should've divorced Foster, but what would she have done then? Evangeline doesn't seem like a single mother friendly place."

Very true! Evangelite women are encouraged to stay at home and take care of their kids while their husbands work. There are few business that will hire women, and when they do get hired, they only earn a fraction of a man's wage. It's almost impossible for single women to support themselves in this kingdom, but some manage by living with groups of other women and sharing expenses. It's difficult, but not impossible. In "Lost and Found", Sofia also expresses fear that the courts would grant custody of her kids to Foster. In Evangeline Kingdom, this is a totally reasonable fear to have because it's most likely what would happen. Divorce would have been a huge risk in her case, and may have just made the situation worse.

"Now, who we should really talk about is Elskas mom! Aka, the centauress who abandoned her newborn!"

Now that's an interesting point! Her actions seem pretty rotten on the surface, and I can confidently say it wasn't the smartest decision Jorun could have made...Though in her mind, she chased those wolves into the fog for the "greater good".

Apparently the local ecosystem was becoming destabilized (which we would later find out was due to Evangeline Kingdom's interference) and this was causing wolves to encroach into Loreham, emerging from the fog and snatching centaurs away--especially children. Jorun was afraid that Elska would get snatched one day if she didn't take action, so she began to hunt them.

But like Elska, Jorun's rage often got the best of her, which is exactly what happened when she saw one of her hunting buddies get dragged into the fog. Jorun leapt into action to save her fellow tribesman, but met an unknown fate in the mist.

I think Jorun's biggest flaws were her arrogance and lack of self-awareness. Not the sharpest knife in the block, that one...and unfortunately, her daughter suffered the consequences of her foolishness the most.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

[yoonjae20]

Danny had liked Tim when they stumbled across each other in one of the rare 24/7 cafés in Gotham.

The boy had been brilliant - obviously so. Both of them had bonded over not doing well in a classroom environment. Danny had been silently jealous of the boy for dropping out of high school early and never having to go to college, although he’s sure leading Wayne Enterprises isn’t easy. 

Now don’t get Danny wrong – he loves learning about space and being an aerospace engineer major, it’s just that it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that he is struggling to adapt. While his grades are better than ever – an added bonus that there weren’t any Rogues needing his attention and drawing away needed time to study – Danny still has his problems paying attention unless it’s directly connected to space. Sure, throw him an invention his parents have made or any other ghost tech and he could easily reverse engineer it and calculate all those equations per hand, but put anything into a classroom? It’s like Danny’s ability to concentrate vanishes. 

Which means that when Tim poured over biochemistry and equations to stabilize matter, dark eye bags which rivaled the ones Danny had spurted during his Freshman Year of high school with a coffee that was more caffeine than water, that Danny instantly recognized what the boy was trying to do – Clones.

Something he only had intensive knowledge about because Vlad had tried – and failed several times to clone Danny. The fact that Ellie was able to stabilize had been mere luck. So when she destabilized later – once again, it hadn’t been a surprise. It had been a race against time to find a solution. 

It had taken several trips to the Infinite Realms and the Far Frozen and many, many favors to Clockwork for Danny to find any sort of clue. It had been the incompatibility between Vlad’s and Danny’s cores which caused the problem. An ice and fire core – it was contradictory. Which meant that they needed another donor DNA to stabilize and act as a bridge. It had been Jazz who volunteered, being just liminal enough, but not overwhelmingly, growing to like the chaotic girl like her younger sister. 

Now Ellie was something even more special than the both Halfa’s – having both an Ice and a Fire Core. In her “human” form her hair had mixed to become a reddish-brown. Of course all that hadn’t stopped her from traveling the world once it was clear that she would be free to go. And free was she – last Danny heard from her she had been in Mexico. 

So when sees what the boy is trying to do – he assumes the worst. 

He still has nightmares about waking up on that table in the lab, melting destabilized clones all around him. Never had green and ectoplasm looked more like blood. 

So when the boy leaves for the night, Danny transforms and follows the boy, slipping into invisibility to stay undetected. What he doesn’t expect – but should have, considering Tim bore the name Drake-Wayne for a reason - was an even more high tech lab than the one Vlad had in his basement. 

With horror he watches as tries to clone someone and fails miserably. All of the babies in the test tubes are either dying and coming out deformed. 

He has enough when another attempts leaves behind a destabilized clone that looks to close to comfort to the last ones he had seen.

He appears in front of Tim, the boy not even noticing him until he settles back on the ground, transformed back. (He doesn’t want to reveal all his cards for now.)

“What the hell are you doing, Tim?”

The boy turns around, eyes frantic and desperate - and, and… Danny doesn’t like what he recognizes in them, how similar he looks to how Danny had felt when Ellie had destabilized. It’s only when the boy breaks down, clutching Danny like a lifeline – like a puppet’s string which are cut that he decides to hear out the boy.

(And of course he helps – once he gets the full explanation. They never really succeed – Kryptonian DNA even more unstable than Ghost DNA had been and not even introducing Danny’s or Tim’s own DNA had worked. But they hadn't needed to later, once Superboy returned. Neither of them talked about it even years later. The memories were too raw. Danny does introduce Ellie to Superboy - Connor "Kon" Kent. They get along like two houses on fire.)

Danny stumbling upon Tim during his I’m-Gonna-Clone-My-Best-Friend era and going Dude What The Fuck. While getting flashbacks to waking up in Vlad's fucked up little lab with all his malformed destabilizing clones. Please and thank you.

[dunnodk]

Chapter 1 - Running for his life

In the wilderness of the Greater World

Crack!

A young-looking man can be seen running through a forest at high speeds, such that normal people would only see an afterimage.

The young man had an average appearance, and in a world where handsome men and beautiful women were everywhere, his face could even be called unattractive.

Whoosh!

A whooshing sound came from behind. The young man quickly changed directions and jumped to the left, barely avoiding an energy fist that went past his head and smashed into a tree.

Boom!

The tree instantly turned to dust, and the resulting shockwave slightly destabilized the young man's footing, but he quickly leaned forward and continued running. Not a moment later, a bullet filled with mental energy, enough to level a building, went behind the young man's head, breaking a few of his hair strands.

'Dammit.' The young man cursed in his mind, but continued running.

A swordlight destroyed the environment in front of him, forcing him to slide to a stop. Before the young man could even completely stop and stabilize his footing, an explosion from something landing behind him, and rising a cloud of smoke, sent him flying.

Without giving him time to catch his bearings, a fist, aimed at his head, came from the smoke cloud, intending to crush his skull. The young man dodged the fist at an impossible angle, surprising the buff old man who just tried to kill him.

As the young man tried to regain his balance in mid-air, another swordlight attacked him. Again, the young man avoided the swordlight at an impossible angle, and just as he landed, another energy fist came flying at him.

Unable to dodge after just landing, and unable to defend with his preoccupied hands, the young man could only send a kick at the energy fist, which sent him flying through the air once again. As the young man landed, he ignored the pain in his leg and continued running.

'How did this happen?' Despairing thoughts started overwhelming the young man's mind, but he pushed them to the back of his mind. However, those thoughts, along with guilt and regret, came back as he glanced at the heavily injured woman in his arms.

"Guild Leader cough, just leave me behind. Save yourself." The red haired woman with an alluring figure in his arms tried to convince the young man, as she coughed up blood.

"Don't say anything, just save your strength. I'll get us out of this." Said the young man to the woman, who was bleeding profusely, trying to sound calm. However, his shaky voice, heavy breathing, and pained expression didn't convince the woman.

Another swordlight came at the young man from behind. He tried to dodge it, for the god knows what time today, however, with his previous injuries and now injured leg, his dodge wasn't as flawless as before; and his shoulder ended up getting cut.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the swordlight had corrosive energy which he had to push out of his system, which wasted his own energy and concentration, which was being continuously attacked by mental attacks.

"How can you geezers be this shameless!" The young man shouted at his attackers in rage as he continued running.

But the only response he received was an energy fist.

"Brat, you can only blame yourself." The buff old man answered with a laugh, however, he was also feeling extremely bitter and frustrated that they were ganging up on a kid.

They were all proud experts who had surpassed the Three-star Mental Strength Grandmaster standard, and were peerless even among other Great Grandmasters, yet they had to work together to kill a single person, who was barely in his thirties.

If news of this was to get out, even if none dared to say anything out loud, they'd surely laugh at them in private.

However, circumstances have forced them, and there was no going back now. When someone breaks through to the Mental Strength Great Grandmaster standard, they fuse their energy with the world and unlock special abilities. This was why they were trying to kill the young man.

Normally, no matter what kind of ability someone unlocked, these proud individuals wouldn't care. However, the ability this young man that they were hunting unlocked was too frightening, so much so that one of their peers, who had prediction abilities which have never been wrong, had predicted there would be a disaster, without even knowing what the ability the young man had unlocked is.

Originally, they were doubtful even when that person stressed how important it was to eliminate the young man, however, to respect their peer who had never been wrong, they investigated the young man.

The more they looked into him the more interested and less doubtful they became, so they decided to take action. And when they did, all of their doubts disappeared.

Indeed that old man had never been wrong, and now was no exception. The simple proof was that the young man was still alive.

The young man was none other than Shi Feng. Even though he hadn't completely broken through to the Great Grandmaster standard, and only unlocked an ability, he was still able to survive an onslaught from these old monsters, which made them think he had already broken through.

If they knew they were putting this much effort into killing a Mental Strength Pseudo-Great Grandmaster, god knew what they'd do, so Shi Feng thought it best not to correct their thinking.

While in the process of breaking through, he was called for an emergency meeting by his close allies. Though a bit suspicious, he didn't think any of them would betray him.

They were all close allies and friends who wouldn't betray him even if their lives or guilds were threatened, so he didn't think any of them would betray him. LET ALONE ALL OF THEM!

However, when he got there and saw the guilt in their eyes, he immediately knew something was wrong. But before he could react, he was ambushed by these old bastards. Even though he defended himself, he was injured, and an old assassin took the chance to try and kill him.

Thankfully, Fire Dance had accompanied him and saved Shi Feng from a strike that should have killed him. But due to the huge difference in strength between her and the assassin, she ended up lethally wounded.

As she was about to die, Shi Feng intervened and managed to save her before escaping; while being attacked and injured by the assassin and the other old monsters.

Thinking about the traitors, rage overwhelmed Shi Feng's mind; but he tried to calm himself by remembering their eyes full of guilt.

He knew they wouldn't betray him even if their lives were threatened, or they would have at least tried to somehow inform him while pretending. However, it's a different story if their families or close ones were to be threatened.

As the buff old man said, Shi Feng could only blame himself for being careless.

But his mind was once again overwhelmed with despair and guilt as he glanced at Fire Dance, who was barely still alive.

'Was he going to die here?' Such thoughts permeated in his mind, causing him him to lose focus and get more injuries.

Shi Feng suppressed those thoughts, knowing it was the ability of one of the old monsters hunting him. He had previously tried to kill the woman with that ability, but the others pushed him back, forcing him to aimlessly run into the wilderness of the Greater World for hours; until he got into the situation he was in now.

'Dammit, if I had broken through, I could have already killed all these fuckers.' Despite trying to keep a calm mind, rage resurfaced, and because of his tired mind, he didn't notice it was being amplified.

'Got him.' An old woman smirked while running after Shi Feng, but still keeping a safe distance from him at all times; thus preventing him from attacking her, which caused further rage in his mind 'He's beginning to lose it. Hasten your attacks.' The old woman sent a mental message to the other attackers.

'Witch, don't order me around.' The buff old man replied as he sent another, but stronger energy fist at Shi Feng's back.

This is what they were waiting for. For this woman to cause chaos in Shi Feng's emotions. Now when they sent stronger attacks and injured him even more, those thoughts will cause him to lose even more focus, slowly breaking him.

With Shi Feng's tired mind and body, after being on complete alert and fighting opponents at a higher realm from him for hours, he will start to fall apart.

Shi Feng knew that too, but there was nothing he could do…

He could only try his best to survive for as long as possible, and hope for a miracle. To try to create a miracle like he always did. But deep down, he knew that he was really screwed this time. Even if he somehow managed to break through to the Great Grandmaster stage right now, he was too injured. Sooner or later, they would still get him. He might unlock a second ability, but he doubted something like that would happen.

The only thing he could do was hope that Fire Dance could recover enough to run away while he slowed them down, but…

He glanced down at her, who was barely hanging on by a thread. Sensing his gaze, Fire Dance opened her eyes slightly, and seeing the guilt and worry in Shi Feng's eyes, she put on a loving smile. She wanted to speak, but she couldn't.

Oh how she wanted to tell him…

[mshexley]

Rowvember

5 - Rebuild

An Idol named Snakeskin

The Idols weren’t gone.

They were destabilized.

They were scattered.

And in that mess…things became clear to Snakeskin.

They was young when they joined.

Straight out of high school.

Between what they learned in school and what they saw online, they come to the conclusion that everything was fucked.

Politicians were corrupt.

Churches were corrupt.

The elite were corrupt.

Society…was corrupt.

But Snakesin was powerless against it.

They was alone…they felt alone.

Talking to their parents about it just resulted in them telling them that those problems were too big for them to concern themselves with and that they should just focus on themself.

Their friends didn’t really care about these things the way they did.

And the only time they found like-minded peers was online. And in this environment, they turned mentally vicious. Hostile debates on forums and blog sites. Malicious comments left on internet videos by people who were just so blatantly disconnected from reality in order to avoid looking at ACTUAL bouts of systemic oppression.

I mean, could they even be blamed? People would rather believe that reptilian aliens from 18th planet secretly control the world for the worst rather than blame the ACTUAL villains that are right in front them. The villains that were greedy and careless humans. Humans that could bleed.

They was angry…but powerless…and alone…and lost.

But the Idols, they offered them salvation.

Their version of salvation.

Snakesin…no.

Back then they was still going by their birthname: Theresa.

Theresa was desperate.

They didn’t even mind that the methods of the Idols were often questionable.

Revolutions aren’t always perfect and to want it to be was a childish wish because change…TRUE change against an institution is messy. Always has been.

And it’s to that truth that Theresa was able to suppress these reservations they had about certain plans.

But they never let them go. Even when they were wrapped in the high of life that was living among the other Idols.

It was anarchy.

When rent was due, they told them that they should live at their camp because landlords are greedy bastards.

And Theresa agreed.

Their landlord was a scumbag. Anyone who felt it was nothing to kick people out when they have nothing was a scumbag.

And Theresa had seen videos of landlords pleading their fucking cases about why “it’s ok actually” to kick out poor people because to them the rent was being paid because tenets didn’t respect them or were holding out for no reason.

Theresa’s plastered boldly worded eviction notices for everyone to see. To embarrassing people. Why else would they not slide it under the door or leave in their mailbox? It was to prove a point. That she was in control and she held the power.

When Theresa spoke of their landlord, the other Idols gave them the idea of teaching her a lesson.

And there was a part of Theresa that wanted to talk that down. Eye for an eye and all that. But they thought about it. That woman committed violence herself. Yeah, she wasn’t punching people but she was still harming them.

She was tossing people out onto the streets. Leaving them for dead and to fend on the outside while she brought him in some poor bastard that she’ll inevitably toss out onto the streets.

She’s done it to singular households.

She’s done it couples.

She’s done it a single parents.

She’s done it college kids.

She’s done it to disabled people and old people, anyone.

And society tells you to accept it because “that’s just how it is”

And that process of thought killed that part of Theresa

And then that part of them was beaten to bloody pulp…much like the landlady.

And the part that beat them…was named Snakeskin.

It was a name meant to be ironic.

And you know what?

Snakeskin didn’t feel guilty. Hell, Theresa didn’t feel guilty.

It was more like equivalent exchange.

The violence that the landlady committed would be given back to her in the form of a beating and they did not feel guilty about that.

If the landlady didn’t want that to happen, then she should’ve demonstrated more compassion.

Her apathy towards others lead her to this road.

That is not blind justice. That is karma. Karma is not some cosmic entity that just…makes bad people have accidents.

No, Karma possesses.

Karma chooses a vessel to enact.

And in that moment. Snakeskin was its vessel.

The Idols were supposed to be its vessel.

But the goal was lost.

The Collective claimed no gods or masters…but them.

They were the monarchs of the new world but they were no different.

They were nothing but cogs to the system.

Rebuilding it in their own image.

Snakeskin could tell.

The moment they realized that a mansion was in their possession…they knew.

Unless they brought about someone who owned it to the group’s cause, The Collective either owned this themselves or they stole it.

And while stealing seemed likely, you don’t steal something like that from a wealthy person without bloodshed and a large police presence.

Snakeskin didn’t trust that the Collective believed what they preached but rather saw a way for them to find worker bees that will sit when they say, crawl they say, and bark when they say.

But now…The Collective were gone.

Taken down like statues to commemorate slavers.

The Idols were scattered.

Destabilized…and lost.

The remnants of the Collective could salted and over their graves, the Idols could be rebuilt.

Not in the image of the Collective, not in Snakeskin’s image, but in the image of true anarchy and karma.

The problem with the Collective is that they wanted people to be leashed. Not to the system but to them. They focused their rage on the people and not the system.

They made purple coated enemies…out of potential allies.

Snakeskin would rebuild it.

It will be perfect.

And those that wish to enact the wills of the Collective…can join them.

[kenpxchi]

@sphaeraa - death drabble

Finally, a fight to push his limits.

The clash of the two anathemaic forces have torn the world about them asunder. The sky, barren of clouds, still remains dark with their overwhelming clashes. Each time they meet, pieces of the earth are blasted skyward, their conflict creating an arena-sized crater about the two of them. It’s gone on like this for hours, the two points of reiatsu burning in the earth, each of them matching, then outpacing the other in a cycle of ascension. Each of them adapts to their opponent, and counters: the divine vessel and the demonic beast.

Standing in the midst of the crater, the two face each other down in a moment of relative calm. His skin a burning red, horns jutting out from his forehead, Kenpachi stands, burned with sacred fire, the flesh of his arm blasted away, leaving little more than bone. And yet, that arm still grips his sword, still somehow moves despite the lack of flesh. The ground beneath his feet cracks, crumbling away beneath him, the earth itself fleeing his presence as the Hōgyoku similarly demolishes the environment, siphoning the reishi out of the ground and absorbing it as pure power. Breaking down the foundations of reality and supplanting them onto itself, becoming a walking calamity, subsuming all that came near.

If Kenpachi had his memories, he would have been reminded of another foe. Azashiro, he who merged with all he perceived. As he is now, raw and instinctual, shuddering in place as his muscles threaten to tear themselves to shreds, he can’t do much thinking. Instead, he acts, as does his opponent. Both of them fly at each other at blistering speeds, the space behind them detonating as Kenpachi’s legs shred, thighs and calves bursting apart from the force of his jump.

The world goes white as they clash, heaven and hell collapsing into each other in one infinitesimal moment, as the divine artifact tries to subsume him. And yet, the blade of Nozarashi cuts anyway. Reality crumbles, shattering away like glass at the weapon’s edge, as it carves through space, time, everything... splitting the marble in half.

The spontaneous destabilization compounds upon the earlier blast, and a wall of blinding light expands outwards, sending all matter within a hundred kilometers into oblivion. The world is calm, the echoes of the blast fading into the sky like the aftermath of a thunderclap.

And there, Kenpachi slowly rises to his feet on legs whose muscles hang limp and free, torn to shreds. Half his face is gone, stripped down to the skull, the horn still poking out of the bone. It’s impossible. With his body in that state, he shouldn’t even be able to move, let alone rise to his feet, but the beast roars, supplanting the silence with a cry of victory. A celebration of a battle well-fought. He had wished for so long to finally find an opponent worthy of testing his might against, seeing just how far he could truly go. True to its purpose, the Hōgyoku had made his wish come true.

[ohmylcve]

soaking wet, in complete discomfort on her clothing that clearly wouldn't scream pool, neither water in general, it was at least fun that coraline wouldn't even waste a single thought on how uncomfortable that situation might be. psychology often assumes that one's suffering is clearly related to the state of mind of such a person, and cora was being the living proof of it: the more she would spend her time in this uncomfortable environment, the less she would even think about it, because all thoughts revolved around the person in front of her. alex had his own way not only into her body, but into her mind, as if she was merely a puppet, played by him with every string being pulled with a precision that only one who studied such an art could do. mastering her like a master of a puppet - singular, she hoped.

the fine line between playing the game and allowing her in was now shaking, as she was beginning to notice the truth coming out of his mouth. pure. raw. solid. as if the feelings he had on her, on how much she liked her figure, how much she attracted him, were slowly coming to the surface in disguised words. lucky enough for coraline, she was now in plain conscience of what was unraveling between the two of them. little did he know - ? - that what often drove coraline's actions were the excitement, the rush and amount of feelings, altogether, blurring her mind and making her act. when steele threw her in the water, suddenly with all calming down, not only did the blonde took control over herself, but also over the situation. the insecurity driven by the anxiety of not being wanted was no longer there - after all, in a room full of people, they were the only ones by the pool, so he had found a way for the two of them to be together; only the two of them -, it gave enough space so she could understand and even trust her gut on everything she's always learnt from alex. with a victorious smile as a response, coraline felt her heart relaxing; the thrill of believing in the possibility that she might not have him again slowly mixing up with the fluidness of the water surrounding both of them, easening the mood. "never thought you'd actually like tantrum of mine." she stood silent for quite a while. being reprehended throughout her entire life, saying she was too emotional or too hot-headed would always make her end up believing she was too different from other people... which was something that actually hurted her - and precisely the reason why she would try so hard with her appearance. "i guess being broken up changes some things, hm?" she playfully adds.

with the idea of him not loving her, coraline thanked alex mentally for throwing her in the water, otherwise her knees would've shaken and she would clearly be left destabilized. with no gravity holding her down, she had more opportunity to hide the fear, though the mere thought of not having his love was terrifying enough not to leave a mark on her expressions. was he being true when he told her she was fun to be played with? she was beginning to second-think, wondering if she was being too emotional as she used to...

and then, the silence. the swimming closer. the cage. not able to be left in the deafening silence, coraline had to do something. pressuring him on saying something. anything. "hm?" scavenging through his face for a sign, for an answer to the question she so lightly asked, but heavily felt. coraline let herself be locked in to this movement of his, offering no resistance. after all, what alex was doing was nothing more than making it palpable, something that was deep rooted in the crooked relationship they've been building: it was a game of chase, a game of power, in which he had her trapped, no matter how hard she tried to escape. feeling like she could no longer escape, it was almost like a stockholm syndrome, in which she would so devotely fall for the one who was locking her in.

then finally, the words leaving his mouth in a shocking honesty: there was no sarcasm, no smirks... until a certain point. it was almost as if he had forgotten to wear the mask he so carefully took care of. quickly grabbing it from the ground, he returned to be the alex steele that most people knew. but not cora. almost as if she stopped him from putting the mask on, the blonde offers him a loving smile, one that most mothers would, when taking care of a child who unintentionally broke a thing that they shouldn't. "i can't blame you for wanting to be wanted." as if she wasn't locked in his cage, she took a step closer to him, arms wrapping around his neck, as her hand slowly begun to caress it. "i think you don't need the chase to be certain that i would do anything to get you back." she admitted, a possessive tone taking over. "deep down, we both know how you're mine, steele. i might be yours as well, can't run away from that. but i've already come to terms with that." giving a quick pause, she borrowed his smirk to go on. "but have you?"

with water dripping from his hair and sliding down his face, he watched coraline with a faint smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. he should’ve felt victorious. she was calmer now, drawn closer to him, her initial fury smoothed into something softer. that was always how it went. he’d push her buttons, unravel her, and then, somehow, they’d end up back here—circling one another, the tension simmering but never fully boiling over. but even as he wore his usual mask of indifference, something twisted in his chest. the way she looked at him, like he was both her salvation and her downfall, was almost too much to bear. he hated the power he had over her—hated and reveled in it all at once. it was intoxicating, knowing he could pull her into his orbit with a single smirk, a single move. and yet, every time he saw the cracks he left in her armor, it reminded him of his own brokenness, his inability to give her what she needed. still, he couldn’t stop himself. coraline was a fire he couldn’t extinguish, no matter how many times he told himself he should. even now, as she moved closer, her irritation melting into something more vulnerable, he felt the pull all over again—the same pull that had always kept them tethered, no matter how destructive they were for each other. her words broke through his thoughts, her voice laced with challenge and that unshakable fire that made her who she was.

alex chuckled, low and quiet, his smirk widening as he tilted his head to look at her. "touché," he said, shrugging as if her accusation didn’t matter. "i guess i can’t lie about that. but you know, there’s a difference between wanting you all polished and perfect and needing to remind you that you’re just as stunning when you’re not trying so hard." her next words hit closer to home, though he didn’t let it show. she wasn’t wrong—of course she wasn't! she never was when it came to reading him, and that was what made her so dangerous. coraline saw through his defenses, the ones he used on everyone else, peeling back the layers until there was nowhere left for him to hide. "you’re not wrong," he admitted, his voice quieter now, though the sarcasm was still there, faint but present. "i probably did want you to make a scene. let’s be honest—your tantrums are the highlight of any room. makes things a little more exciting." her words made his smirk falter for a split second, just long enough for her to see it. love. that wasn’t a word he liked to touch, not with her, not with anyone. but her playful tone pulled him back, and he let out a soft laugh, the tension in his chest easing, if only slightly. "don’t flatter yourself," he said, his tone light but carrying just enough edge to keep her guessing. "you might be fun to play with, but love’s a strong word, cora. let’s not get ahead of ourselves." but her next words stopped him cold, cutting through his defenses in a way she so often managed to do. 'when are you finally wrapping your mind around the fact that you won’t ever find me in any of them?' for a moment, alex didn’t respond. he let her words hang in the air between them, heavy and unrelenting. she wasn’t wrong—again. he hated how well she knew him, hated that she saw through the games he played, the distractions he sought in other people. she knew what he was looking for, even when he refused to admit it to himself.

he swam closer, his movements deliberate, until there was barely any space left between them. his hand found the edge of the pool beside her, caging her in, though his touch wasn’t aggressive. his other hand reached out, his fingers brushing against her chin, tilting her face up so their eyes met. "maybe i’m not looking for you in them," he said finally, his voice low, almost a whisper. "maybe i’m just trying to forget you’re the only one i want." the honesty in his words surprised even him, and for a moment, the usual cocky glint in his eyes was replaced with something raw, something real. but then, just as quickly, the smirk returned to his lips like armor. "or maybe i just like the chase," he added, his voice light again, as if to undo the weight of what he’d just said. but the truth was already there, unspoken but understood. it always was, between them.

[somepinkthing]

pre-timeskip claude and power

I’ve noticed something interesting in how claude perceives his own power as a teenager. Notably, he doesn’t seem to believe he has any. When confronted with the power and privilege he has as a noble, claude outright rejects it and rejects that it ought to have any bearing on him as a person. In rare displays of temper, he almost seems petulant when he is denying this part of himself. 

Part of it can be attributed to seeking normalcy, like dimitri does. Part of it could also be childish temper; claude’s surprisingly bratty at times. Part of it is just due to who claude is as a person: someone who resents the idea that there are lives that mean more and lives that mean less, rejects the notion that his allies are meant to hold his survival above their own, outright orders them to ignore that instinct, and hates seeing uninvolved civilians die for other people’s squabbles. Another part is that 'crested noble’ is really just another cross for him to bear by nature of his birth — just another thing he had no say in. From half-fodlan coward to a spoiled noble with a crest and a suspicious lineage, no space to be a person in between. Claude didn’t just leave his country, he fled it. He up and ran from his family, his homeland, and his life as a prince for the chance to be somewhere he’s not hated just for his bloodline. To hear that, even hundred of miles from home, he can’t escape what’s innately inside him would sting

And the last puzzle piece is that weird relationship with power I mentioned. To dimitri and edelgard, the power they will inherit is either a crushing weight or a shining opportunity. What it also was, was unquestioned. Even with the coup and the tragedy, it was never in question that one day they would have a place somewhere at the top of the food chain. From the day they were born, they were told that people loved and served them just by nature of who they were. In their own way, they both resented the notion and suffered severely from it. But, as twisted as that love and power was, it was given freely. Claude had a different experience, one that would make a future duke/former prince feel he had no more power than anyone else. I mean, just think about his circumstances alone. He was a prince of a country larger than all of fodlan combined and now he’s the heir to one dukedom in the alliance.... maybe. That is, if he can prove himself worthy to the roundtable. That alone would be pretty destabilizing for a teenager — now add in the fact that this teenager has recently fled from an abusive environment aka the entire country of his birth. Culture shock alone must have been something, even without all the rest of the stuff to untangle. 

Edelgard and dimitri looked out into a crowd of people and saw people they would one day lead (like it or not). Claude, at 17, looked out into a crowd and saw people that could rip this temporary peace from his hands with one accusation. He was born heir to two countries and made acutely aware from a young age that both of them were just looking for a reason to get rid of him. Young or old, rich or poor, noble or commoner — they could rip the rug out from underneath him and he’d be found dead in the streets within a week. To claude, his place in fodlan was like sand shifting beneath his feet. It was there, but he couldn’t ever be sure it was a permanent fixture in his life. And what power would he have to stop it? So to be accused of having a kushy life by kostas? Or to be lectured about nobility by lorenz? It causes claude to raise his hackles every time. How dare they perceive him as having privilege when one wrong move could literally cost him his life? He's too smart to not at least know they're partially right—and, after all, he understands enough about the imbalance of power to genuinely be disgusted at the fact that when nobles fight, it's the common people that get hurt. As an adult, he grows out of his complex and understands the nuances of privilege, but it’s a tough pill to swallow for him growing up given his own experiences

I mean, think about it. What is the sword of the creator but a physical, touchable representation of raw power? What does owning it mean if not someone’s divine right to belong within fodlan? Now ask yourself: why would that appeal to a young man with no sense of stability or safety who perceives himself as powerless?

[autisticsupervillain]

It's Fictional Throwdown Friday!

This Week's Fighters...

Gordon Freeman vs Isaac Clarke!

Conditions:

No restrictions. Both combatants have absolutely everything.

Scenario:

The G-Man dispatches Gordon to obtain one of the Markers, seeking to weaponize the Necromorphs for his employers. Isaac comes across Gordon as he loads the Marker into a transport vehicle, assumes he's a Unitologist trying to protect the Marker, and opens fire.

Analysis: Gordon

Many shooter heroes have gone up against impossible odds. Conquered incomprehensible threats from beyond the stars and bested physical gods. And yet, the greatest of all these heroes isn't an uber space marine or a super masculine macho man. No, Gordon Freeman is simply an ordinary scientist with a crowbar.

Gordon Freeman was once a diligent theoretical physicist working at the top secret lab known as Black Mesa. However, one of Gordon's experiments accidentally punched a hole into another universe, causing an alien invasion. Gordon is forced to fight for his life and fend off the invaders, making him the savior off Earth. Unfortunately, this puts him on the G-Man's radar, forcing him to serve the mysterious being and his employers for the rest of his days... until Half-Life 3 comes out... assuming it will.

Luckily, G-Man mostly seems to want Gordon to kick alien ass and Freeman's got plenty of tools for the job. For starters, he never goes into battle with his trusty HEV suit. The Hazardous EnVironment Suit comes with a whole bunch of nifty features, boosting his otherwise normal human stats to superhuman levels. With it, he's durable enough to tank military air strikes with 134 megajoules of force behind them and survive hits from lasers that do this to solid steel walls.

Source:

Moreover, most of Gordon's stronger weapons can kill Alien Grunts, who are strong enough to completely obliterate steel gates. By using Gordon as a measuring stick to estimate the size and thickness of the wall, it can be determined that it would over half a ton of tnt to generate this kind of explosion, roughly 0.723 tons of tnt to be precise.

Source:

The suit also has a built in radiation detector and an ai voice that informs him of any grievous injuries. Upon sustaining an injury, he's pumped full of painkillers potent enough to let him shrug off bullet wounds. Similarly, the suit's antitoxins are strong enough to reverse the effects of headcrab poison, which leaves him on the brink of death with just a touch, in seconds. Hell, he can even tank hits from antimatter weapons, endure extreme heat and cold, endure dangerous acids, and shrug off high voltage electricity. Even morso, the suit can be upgraded, allowing him to leap several Kilometers when using the long jump module.

He also carries a large array of guns. While Gordon has the typical shotgun, AK, and RPG ensemble you would expect from a shooter protagonist, he also has some unique guns. He carries two crossbows, one shoots tranquilizer darts while the other shoots bars of molten metal. He carries the Gluon Gun, which shoots unstable Gluon particles so powerful that they make people explode, the Tau canon, which shoots Tau particles, or molecular particles that make up matter on the Quantum Level, and the hive hand, which shoots alien bugs at people like a wasp machine gun. His Pulse Rifle shoots energy projectiles and, when charged up, shoots a ball of antimatter that bounces around everywhere and erases everyone it touches on contact. His most iconic gun, however, is the gravity gun, which manipulates gravity to allow him to throw anyone and anything that gets in his grasp around like a ragdoll, even erasing people with its antimatter energy should he grab them with it thanks to a handy upgrade the Combine gave it. And that's not even the only gun in Gordon's arsenal that can flat delete you, as the Gluon Gun can destabilize the Gluon Particles of its target and rip them apart on the subatomic level.

With these powerful weapons, Gordon has fought off impossible odds with ease. He stopped an alien invasion within the span of a week at most and turned the tide of a hopelessly one sided war against a galactic empire in the span of two days. He curb stomped his way through the US Military, is fast enough to react to and dodge rockets, and has even impressed the reality warping G-Man with his remarkable abilities.

Source:

Having said that, he has a few weaknesses. For one thing, his suit's durability relies on its battery, so he'll frequently have to recharge it if he gets hit too often. He also doesn't wear a helmet, which leaves his squishy human head exposed for his superhuman enemies to crush.

Despite that though, Gordon Freeman is universally beloved as the savior of mankind and is dreaded even by godlike, reality warping aliens. That says a lot about a man who used to just be a pimply scientist. The right man in the wrong place can achieve just about anything.

Analysis: Isaac Clarke

I feel like every job becomes a lot cooler when you do them in Space. Tax Accountant... IN SPACE! Retail Worker... IN SPACE! Maintenance Engineer... IN SPACE! Sure, there's an increased chance that you might get devoured by a bloodthirsty hive mind that's hellbent on devouring all life in the galaxy, but for some unlucky space engineers, that's just an occupational hazard.

Meet Isaac Clarke, a lowly systems engineer employeed by the Concordance Extraction Corporation who gets called in to repair the "planet cracker" USG Ishimura when they send out a distress signal. Rather than, say, a broken antenna or an overloaded reactor core, the Ishimura has come down with a rather more unusual case of man eating space monsters.

Meet the Necromorphs, undead hive mind abominations intent on devouring, assimilating, or just out right killing all life that isn't them. They're none too picky with how they kill you and none too picky with what you do to them. They just don't die no matter what you do to them. Blow their heads off, cut them in half, pump them full of lead, it doesn’t matter. They will rush you down with zero hesitation regardless. And what's worse that they can get humans to do their job for them, using their "Markers" to not only organize the Necromorphs like one organize, but also corrupt the minds of humans into forming an cult around the Necromorphs, serving the Marker's whims.

Luckily for Isaac, he's a bit of a master of improvised weaponry, meaning he has all the tools he needs to clear these Markers out. Firstly, he's decked out head to toe in a fancy RIG suit. This Resource Integration Gear comes equipped with all the tools necessary to help its user survive on the job hazards, even if Space Aliens probably weren't what the makers had in mind for it. His RIG suit can vacuum seal when exposed to suboptimal breathing conditions, be that poisonous gas or the vacuum of space, forcing Isaac to rely on an internal oxygen supply. However, this supply is limited and only lasts for about a minute and a half. Furthermore, his RIG is equipped with thrusters that allow to freely fly around in zero g or low g environments like Iron Man.... IN SPACE! ...Ahem. Sorry. I'll stop.

Furthermore, his suit can come equipped with several Modules that can modify its performance and abilities. The Kinesis Module can allow him to telekinetically lift and throw heavy objects from several meters away with just the wave of his hand, while the Stasis Module temporarily slows down time for whatever object he waves his hand at, allowing him to dodge super fast projectiles, freeze enemies in place, or catch Necromorphs that are glitching through time thanks to their damages Stasis RIGs.

Furthermore, the suit gives Isaac a superhuman level of strength, speed, and durability. Not only can he stomp Necromorphs into giblets, but he's durable enough to tank powerful time bombs, which are powerful enough to blast apart giants rocks with a force roughly equivalent to 1.19 tons of TNT.

Source:

On top of that, his Zero G thrusters are fast enough to outrun bullet trains and he can react fast enough to dodge gun fire at point blank range.

In terms of fire arms, Isaac has fire power to spare. His improvised plasma cutter, original designed to cut up large boulders, is equipped with a rotating blade, allowing for long horizontal and diagonal shots that are just perfect for cutting the limbs off Necromorphs. Even if you can't kill them, they can't chase you down without limbs.

The pulse rifle is a powerful motorized gun with a secondary fire the shoots bullets in a 360 degree radius, while the Disc Ripper shoots out a powerful romote control buzz saw that cuts through anything in its path, with a secondary fire that makes the spinning blade bounce all over the damn place. The torch flame thrower spews out fire that burns at 4000 degrees Celsius with a secondary fire that shoots a big napalm grenade, while the Cutter Line Gun is a more powerful Plasma Cutter that shoots out landmines with its secondary fire.

The contact beam is an energy jackhammer meant to blast apart rock that can create shockwaves across the ground to dispatch swarms. The Javelin Gun fires electric titanium spikes that can explode, the Seeker Rifle is a futuristic sniper rifle, and the Force Gun obliterates everything in front of it by firing pure kinetic energy. Finally, the Hand Cannon is a large foam sports hand that kills everything Isaac points at with it. Without exception.

Isaac in an experienced technological genius, capable of throwing together a good chunk of his weapons by himself on the spot. Hell, he's smart enough to build a Marker on his own... while under a Marker's mind control, granted, but still. You can't really hold that against him. As time gas gone on, Isaac has grown more and more resilient to the influence of Markers, capable of resisting their control and effects through sheer will power alone. This is impressive when you realize the Marker's mind control is collectively powerful to formulate one of the most dominant and wide spread religions in human history, with a mental influence that can span planets or even the entire solar system. Moreover, Isaac's suit is resilient against extreme temperatures, radiation, and acid and can pump him full of stimulants to keep him from being drugged unconscious.

One man, one lowly engineer has done what an entire army could not and, by himself, destroyed three Markers over the course of his life. Hell, those first two might as well have happened the exact same day from his perspective. Isaac Clarke, ladies and gentlemen. The man the dead fear.

Throwdown Mashup:

Throwdown Breakdown:

I'm gonna be honest, this is easily the closest matchup we've had in a long damn time.

Stat wise, Isaac should be somewhat superior in strength, while Gordon is superior in speed. (0.723 tons vs 1.19 tons). The rockets that Gordon dodges can move at a max speed of 320 m/s, while the Bullet Train that Isaac outran would be moving at least 122.936 m/s, assuming it's faster than modern bullet trains.

Gordon is far superior to Isaac in terms of mobility, as the Long Jump Module would allow him to gain distance very quickly, while Isaac's best movement options are restricted to Zero G environments. However, Isaac can still compete at long range with his sniper rifle and the stimulants would nullify the tranquilizer darts from Gordon's crossbow, negating one of his long range weapons.

Isaac has the advantage of being able to use his gun and his telekinesis at the same time, as he only needs to wave his hand to grab and toss objects and people while Gordon needs to pull out a big clunky gravity gun. However, Gordon's gravity gun can obliterate him thanks to its antimatter energy setting should he get close enough to do so.

Gordon can one-shot Isaac with the variety of guns at his disposal that either attack at a subatomic level or use antimatter to obliterate his foes, neither of which Isaac resists, but Isaac can one-shot Gordon with any gun at his disposal, as Gordon does not wear a helmet like Isaac does and Isaac's weapons are very often designed to aim at specific body parts, such as the Plasma Cutter and Remote Control buzz saws. While Gordon's suit can resist the heat of Isaac's flame thrower, his face cannot. Both characters have enough grenades and landmines for those to effectively counter out and neither of them are melee fighters, so a hand to hand fight is unlikely to ever occur.

Both characters have weapons that can one-shot the other without ammunition (gravity gun vs hand cannon) and both characters should have a similar level of intelligence overall. I'd say Gordon ahould have better experience, as he more often participates in gun fights and does so against fairly impressive foes I might add, but the wide variety of forms the Necromorphs can take does mitigate this slightly.

However, Isaac does have one solid trick that Gordon simply has no answer to: Stasis. Gordon has no way of getting out of stasis once he gets caught in it and, seeing how Isaac only need wave his hand in his direction to activate it, he has little way of anticipating or avoiding it. While Gordon can keep to a distance to mitigate this somewhat, his most long ranged items are largely countered out by Isaac, meaning he'd try to close the distance eventually without realizing the danger he'd be putting himself in. While the two are evenly matched enough that Gordon can otherwise still win this in a few scenarios, Stasis is too big an advantage in Isaac's favor for Gordon to take the majority and once he's hit by it, Isaac has all the time in the world to simply blow Freeman's head off. Seems like Gordon's win streak ends here.

Seems like G-Man is gonna need a new favorite employee... I wonder if CEC would be willing to loan out a certain engineer?

This Throwdown's Winner is....

Isaac Clarke!

Announcement Poll Results:

[anonthenullifier]

I have a quote prompt, actually it’s from the first issue of the 1985 Vision and the Scarlet Witch Comic. “The Scarlet Witch is never helpless”

I love this quote! My mind went through so many options that were all really different. Hopefully you enjoy the one I settled on!

——

The cave smells of sulphur and the air is swamp-like, her hair bunching into curls with each additional minute in the humidity. “Hey, Vizh,” Wanda keeps her voice low, as calm as possible, hoping the only attention she rouses is Vision’s and not the transdimensional lava demon clomping back and forth across the cavern. Neither of them stir so she tries again, a touch louder, “Vision.” Under normal circumstances she would reach out not only to his mind but also send a tendril of scarlet to dance along his jaw, except said demon has apparently been studying them, devising vices to limit the use of their powers. Without the freedom of her hands, she finds it hard to channel her powers with enough finesse to only alert Vision, leaving her able only to feel the outermost furling of his thoughts. This is not enough for her to determine that Vision is okay, especially in his current state, his body suspended so that it is leaning forward, arms uncomfortably hoisted behind him to eliminate the chance he can turn his head and sear away the chains with the Mindstone. It reminds her of the nightmare that was aerial battle yoga with Natasha. Wanda tries to nudge his mind while defaulting to conversation in the hope he’ll respond. “I don’t know about you, but my arms are tired.”

Without even opening his eyes, he provides an autopiloted insight to her discomfort, “That would be due to the gravitational field of this planet being almost three times that of Earth.” Two seconds is all it takes before his mind seems to catch up to his surroundings, voice trembling with realization as he raises his head to look at her, “Wanda...when did you get captured?”

Time is meaningless down here, mainly because she can’t access her handheld device to determine how long it’s truly been. “Maybe half an hour ago?” This shouldn't be the point of conversation, however, her own capture not accidental by any means, but she can’t risk alerting their captor to that. “How are you holding up?”

“Rather uncomfortably, as you can no doubt observe.” If his response were a wine, she’d be puckering. At least his spirits are still intact enough to be sardonic. “Are you unharmed?”

His swing from sarcasm to unfettered anxiety dictates she give more than a nonchalant I’m fine. Unlike him, she is in a pretty basic prisoner-in-an-evil-lair position—ankles shackled to the stone wall and shoulders screaming at being suspended by the metal glove encasing both her hands. Even if she’s been here a couple hours less than him, all blood has already drained from her hands and forearms causing pins and needles to colonize under her skin. “Other than my arms, I’m not hurt.” Relief sags his body as much as the restraints allow, maybe a millimeter, but it’s enough, along with his shaky breath out, to convey his ever present concern for her over himself. It’s why she redirects to the real concern here: him. “I assume your powers aren’t working?” The chains attached to Vision’s wrists and ankles jangle morosely as he demonstrates phasing for her. The second his body flickers it is consumed by an electrical shock that sizzles along the edges of the vibranium. She finds herself wincing just so someone acknowledges how agonizing it looks. “You could have just said yes.”

The resounding clink of metal this time is due to his attempt at a shrug, “I felt it pertinent to test the efficacy of the power destabilizer in case it had malfunctioned.”

“Looked like you were trying to win the pitiful award.”

His breathy, contained snort very briefly eradicates the twinge she’s developed in her lower back. “I presume you are either a fellow victim or,” hope enters his question with a little vocal uptick, “here to enact a daring rescue?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good...good,” they lapse into a moment of silence, “and that plan is?”

The plan was for her to get captured, as it’s the only known way into the deepest cavern and then either wait for the others to find a way to infiltrate (not even Strange’s portals capable of getting in) or she has to identify a weakness from within. It’s not a great plan but it’s what they have to work with since she refused to go another minute not knowing if Vision was okay. “Um, still finalizing it.”

“Ah, well, looking forward to it then.” If anyone else was down here with him they would likely have overlooked the subtle undercurrent of sass, assuming he was just being anticipatory, but she knows every rise and fall of his voice, every carefully planned cadence and right now he is being an ass. A very handsome ass, but an ass nonetheless.

“But now that I’m here, it’s kind of nice,” it’s not, it’s hot, it’s muggy, it’s dripping with molten rock and peppered with vents puffing up noxious gases, “like one of those spas with the hot stone massage.”

Vision does his best to examine the hellscape, neck only able to crane so far due to the angle of his suspension and the increased gravity, not even his attempts at lowering his density are successful in alleviating either impediment, “I would temper your excitement. The attendant,” he nods towards the demon who is currently pacing in front of an iridescent oval, “informed me they are fresh out of those little cucumber slices for your eyes.”

Without thinking, Wanda allows a single syllable laugh to escape her lips, an action that causes the horned, amorphous head of their captor to turn towards her, its eyes burning like two embers hanging on for life at the end of a campfire. Wanda quickly puts on a pathetic whimper, giving her chains a few good rattles and a pitiful, “Please let us go” and then waits until the demon has returned its attention to guarding the prismatic holding container before responding. “I’m knocking a star off their rating then.”

“That seems fair.”

Having confirmed Vision is relatively fine, Wanda lets them lapse back into silence, a recommendation from Carol to not be overly loquacious in case it stirred suspiciousness towards their still forming grand rescue plan, which is usually fine, one thing she loves about Vision is how easy it is to feel comfortable in silence, the gentle thrum of his mind a soothing, harmonious white noise. Except currently she can’t get deep enough into his thoughts to find reprieve. All she can experience is the echo of evenly spaced though labored breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, and the clenching of his teeth anytime he attempts to shift his density to counteract the angle of his imprisonment. Wanda tries to tamp down the rising worry of what failure would mean, instead directing all of her own attention to feeling out the options for escape.

First she has to figure out her powers. Not only are her hands bound together in the metal glove, her fingers have been forced into fists with no room to expand. It’s uncomfortable and aggravating but also a grave misunderstanding of her abilities because sometimes finesse isn’t necessary. As controlled as she can manage, Wanda collects her powers into one concentrated ball centering in her chest, holding it steady in case she needs to utilize what Vision has lovingly deemed her supernova. No matter how impressive, however, it’s a dangerous maneuver, one she can’t risk in unstable environments, like a potentially active alien volcano. Which is why she needs to channel the man next to her and be patient. Assess everything. This would be easier if her arms didn’t feel like they were about to fall off.

“Um Wanda…”

Her Yeah? shrivels into terrified nothingness the second she raises her eyes, the lumbering form of their captor oozing over towards Vision. Behind it the shining oval and prismatic container are blindingly bright. That’s never a good sign. Neither is the way it reaches a coal colored hand towards Vision. “Don’t touch him.” There’s a snort, dismissive and loud and like a million steam engines erupting all at once If Wanda had her hands free, she’d use them to cover her ears, the world around her muffled now, even her own breaths sounding distant and unconnected from her.

The demon doesn’t listen to her, a solitary finger delicately (as delicately as a monstrous entity can) touching the Mindstone. The stone lights up in response. Based on the shock spreading across Vision’s face and rippling through his body, he is not in control of it. She has made the stone betray him before, and still lives with that guilt, still remembers the way he described it to her, the suffocating realization that he lacked control over such an integral aspect of himself. She’ll be damned to allow anyone else to make him feel it again.

“Stop!” Horrified, she watches the demon ignore her, beckoning the Mindstone energy forward in a docile beam, inching it along with malicious encouragement even as Vision thrashes against his restraints. Clearly the time for planning is over. “I said stop!”

The demon's head swings towards her and she almost screams, the crackling skin of their captor close enough for her to gaze into the smoldering eyes studying her. She imagines standing in the middle of a raging forest fire would be more comforting than the depths of hell in its pupils. “Accept your fate, little witch.” The words spoken are not the ones she hears, its voice akin to the shattering of an entire hutch of china during a tornado, a tinkling of shards as they get whisked away in the howling wind, and yet she understands it, likely some form of mental translation Dr. Strange told them existed in other beings. It’s awe-inspiring while also being a complete ass.

Wanda meets its eyes and glares. “Only if you accept your fate.”

It laughs, wings expanding out across the entire cavern, shaking as if it has heard a joke for the first time in eons. “You,” it bends low, the heat of its body drawing droplets of sweat along her forehead, “are helpless here.”

“You are going to regret that.” For a man who only seconds ago was fighting for his life, Vision’s gleeful taunt enlivens in her the last bit of strength she needs.

Wanda siphons his confidence into herself, unlocking the core of her power as she sets up her daring rescue at last. “You made two mistakes today.” The transdimensional demon lacks hair and any sort of eyebrows, but that doesn’t stop the distinct feeling of it raising them in disbelief. “First,” Wanda leans forward as much as the chains allow, “you kidnapped and tortured the love of my life. And second,” scarlet begins seeping through her body, crackling along her skin as she speaks, “you assumed I was helpless,” the plan was to cause as little harm as possible, the terrain unstable, the power of this demon unknown, but that’s too soft a punishment for a being that doubts her might, that thinks it can control her, that tried to take from her and think she wouldn’t fight back. Wanda makes sure the demon is looking directly at her when she invokes its fate . “The Scarlet Witch is never helpless.”

As the last word falls from her lips, she allows her powers to erupt.

Oiled hands knead up and down Wanda’s arm, applying the perfect amount of pressure to alleviate the last of her aches. There’s a lovely waft of chamomile each time she breathes in and a soothing melody of some nondescript instrumental track. Even more peaceful is the ebb and flow of Vision’s thoughts, her powers greedily deep in his mind. It’s why she’s able to smile in anticipation of his next comment.

“I agree with you.”

Wanda stays face down, far too relaxed to even think about moving, “Obviously,” a little snort comes from her left, guiding her lips up higher into victory, “what specifically?”

“I just finished the report,” only Vision would consider mission reports a comfort read, “Dr. Strange is still perturbed with your methods.”

In her mind there was no inkling of doubt their de facto mission leader was seething, mostly due to the forty minute lecture she received on excessive use of powers, but rarely does he allow it to seep into ink for everyone to read. “I think he’s jealous.”

What she expects is an airy laugh and then a gentle rebuttal, instead she is delivered a treat, “I do believe that is part of it.” Wanda apologizes to the masseuse as she props herself up to look over at Vision, tickled at the unadulterated relaxation before her. He’s engulfed in a snowy white robe while reclined in a chair, a hot towel wrapped around his head with two little cucumber slices on his eyes that look like lifeboats in the waves of the clay mask slathered on his face. When he talks it forms little cracks in the mask, “You achieved a feat he could not, anyone would experience at least a speck of jealousy.”

“Even you?”

“If I had been in his position?” the cracks splinter in six different branches as he contemplates. “Yes, even me. But,” gingerly he reaches up and lifts a cucumber, allowing her to see the swirling gear of his iris, “given I was not in his position, I, instead, am able to appreciate how very fortunate I am to be loved by such a stunningly powerful woman.” A flirty little wink is sent her way before the cucumber drops back into place.

Wanda grins, cheeks rising high enough to hurt a little, as she settles back into the massage table. After all these years that little boyish grin and wink of his urges her heart to beat a hair faster. Maybe she lied in the cavern, overstated the level of helplessness she can experience, because no matter the circumstance, she will always be helplessly in love with Vision. A fact that doesn’t weaken her, can never tame her, one instead that challenges her to understand and harness her powers even more because the universe will never stop trying to take from her, will relentlessly pursue her happiness. This she won’t stand for anymore. Whatever comes next, no matter how intimidating or powerful, she will be ready to yet again prove that the Scarlet Witch is not so easily crossed.

[devilswinging]

TIMELINE UPDATE!

OOC. look! devilswinging is updating again! i may not actively post for now (because overall muse is still dead), but i wanted to update everyone on some timeline revisions i’ve done since personally playing BATIM and reading Dreams Come to Life. everything’s gonna be under a cut so that it doesn’t clog up anyone’s dashboard. i wanted to update everyone because if i do come back to tumblr rp, i’ll immediately be jumping into this revised timeline instead of keeping the old one

THE MOST MAJOR UPDATE IS THAT ISA/BAST NO LONGER EXISTS. i know, shocker. the Ink Demon is in fact Bebe now. instead of having two different Bendys, we’re just gonna keep it at it being the same demon, just horrifically traumatized! mostly i did this change bc of reading through the novel. it just made more sense to me for the once-friendly and peppy yet abused demon to eventually snap and drag everyone down with him in vain attempt to hold the studio up on his own after both of his creators ditched the studio.

secondly! Joey is a bitch! yep, you heard it here, i’ve officially joined the canon bandwagon of Joseph Drewseph Is A Huge Dick. with the erasure of Isa as a character, having Joey be nice just didn’t work out anymore. somebody had to be the reason Henry left. somebody had to be the reason Bendy snapped. and (un)fortunately Joey was the only one who fit the bill. so he’s bitch, like canonically. (yes, this does mean that joey will be removed from @builtmachine. because unfortunately i cannot actively write abusive/asshole characters as seen by me immediately butchering isa/bast from bad guy to good guy)

last major point! the Inkverse mostly happened because Bendy was attempting to hold up the studio on his own. of course the Ink has a mind of its own, somewhat, but the majority of it is still very much a hell and prison of Bendy’s own making.

the full timeline is this!

Henry and Joey are both born. [1901]

Joey Drew Studios is founded [1920]

Bendy and Co are made around, even if they haven't shown up in the cartoon yet. [1925]

Henry gets sick of the studio and loses hope in it and yadda yadda and quits. [1930]

Bendy begins to destabilize and become monstrous. Thomas locks him in the infirmary under Joey's orders. Everyone still there is forced to ignore his cries. [1930-1934].

Bendy Land begins construction. Financial decline for the studio. [1944]

Studio is placed under investigation for hazardous environments, missing employees, harassment, and excessive backpay. Company also bankrupts. [1946]

Buddy finds Bendy and frees him. Bad idea! [1946]

Snooks, Spitner and Snooks sues JDS for mismanaging workers. The studio closed 12 days later. [1959]

Joey leaves the studio [1959]

INKVERSE!! [1959-1972]

Thomas and Allison begin to die, Boris and Alice sacrifice themselves to save them, making Tom and Allison Angel. [1960]

The Butcher Gang become one set of their corrupted copies, making the indistinguishable from the rest. [1961]

Henry returns to the studio. [1963]

Henry is trapped in the studio. [1963-1972]

Henry manages to calm Bendy (skipping the idea that Bendy becomes trapped in "The End") and leaves the studio with him. [1972]

TL;DR: the Inkverse is ultimately caused by Henry leaving, Bendy destabilized and being publicly abused by JDS and causing at least some of the environmental hazards, and the Inkverse being fully realized once Joey leaves and Bendy has no one left to “support” him.

other minor points that may not be timeline specific but are in fact major plot revisions!

THE CYCLE IS DEFINITELY NOT A TIME LOOP. i’m sorry, i still detest legit time loops as a narrative point. the Cycle for devilswinging’s timeline is simply a cycle of life and death for Henry; considering just about EVERYTHING within the Inkverse is made of Bebe’s ink, it makes sense that every time Henry died and was brought back, the events could - and would - replay over and over. long story short, once Henry actually beats Bebeast with The End, that’s it. it’s over. they can leave. he can take him out of the studio.

the whole universe is now a Who Framed Roger Rabbit-esque Toon Town universe, taking inspiration and pieces from multiple sources on an OOC level - mostly from WFRR and Animaniacs + Tiny Toons. long story short that just about everyone knows: humans and toons live on the same plane and coexist.

but vee, why do the JDS toons have to hide away then if this is a Toon Town universe? THEY’RE FREAKS. explaining that further: they were created by means different from other studios’ toons. putting it simply, most toons (ex: the Warner Siblings) literally jump off the page from the love and inspiration put into them by their creators and studios as a whole. the JDS toons... didn’t get that, considering it was likely only Henry who truly loved them. so they had to be brought to life by other means... aka the Ink Machine, which made them demon-toons instead of true toons; JDS had no choice but to hide them away because if they got caught displaying their demonic sides, there’d be trouble. i mean there’s trouble regardless, but yeah.

i think that’s about it for the timeline/universe revisions i’ve made. but please please PLEASE message or send me an ask if you guys have questions about the timeline/universe or want to know more details! you can send a message here or over at @cinnanyan (yes i changed my main’s username for now)