#i said minerva

[teecupangel]

Thoughts ond the new web comic for ac black flag?

Someone in the Kenway bloodline is a whore and I hope the plot twist is it isn’t Edward but Haytham. XD

Okay, so in all seriousness, Edward Kenway is like the 2nd poster boy of Assassin’s Creed and it shows. Before this webtoon, there was also a manga called Assassin’s Creed Black Flag: Kakusei (usually translated as ‘Awakening’) and it is considered as noncanon (where the descendant is a half-Japanese student that's Edward's descendant from his mother's side) while the webtoon seemed to be considered to be canon.

So for the webtoon, I have dipped my feet in the high seas and all I could find was the Indonesian version for the 1st chapter so I can’t be sure of what’s happening but the main character is a descendant of Edward Kenway and this is set after Black Flag.

Which is a bit weird as the ending of Black Flag made it clear that Edward was returning to England with Jenny but it’s highly possible that Edward is in that time period where he’s looking for Isu related artifacts and temples for the Brotherhood (which included the temple in Alamut).

I always assumed that Edward had that adventure after Haytham was born as noted in AC wiki though but, because this webtoon is supposed to be canon and set after Black Flag, it's highly possible it must have taken the genetic memory of Edward Kenway from the main character and one of the plot points is that Edward would have a love interest in this one and the main character is a descendant of Edward and that love interest.

Because if they were using Desmond Miles' genetic memory, the Edward Kenway portions of the webtoon must happen between late 1722 - early 1725 (at most 8~10 months before December). In other words, before Haytham is conceived.

If they were using the main character's genes though, it's free game 'cause I won't be surprised if Edward cheated on someone like Tessa Kenway. (cheating is bad though so please don't)

Now, one could argue, “maybe they’re using Edward’s remains like what Layla did?” and yes, that’s a possibility. Just because the main character is a descendant does not mean Abstergo is using his actual genetic memory to access Edward’s memories. For all we know, he’s being used to get a high synchronization rating using the DNA from Edward's remains.

So I guess we’ll just have to see where this goes.

But the most important thing:

The fuck is this? Is that supposed to be Altaïr and Ezio???

Are you guys telling us he’s also the descendant of Altaïr and Ezio?! Because I call bullshit on that. This would mean that this dude would have had to have a similar genetic makeup to Desmond unless you’re going to say “oh, the Altaïr genes came from Darim not Sef, don’t worry”. One of the main points in AC is that Desmond is the only known descendant of Auditore AND Ibn-La'Ahad blood (until Elijah). If the main character has the same bloodline as Desmond, then dear god, Minerva’s gonna grab this innocent bystander and drag him to the Grand Temple to be sacrificed instead of Desmond.

Or is this another case of “we thought that Ezio was Altaïr’s descendant, oops!” that I’ve seen in two different official Japanese AC booklet???

Although...

So wild wild theory...

Absolutely not gonna happen...

The age of the main character is a bit of a mystery but if this is set in 2023 and he's around mid teens to at most 19, he could be another one of Desmond's kids. 20 is pushing it and anything beyond that though would be, uuuhhh, possible but you don't wanna think about that.

[dailydccomics]

we know who you are ♡ Wonder Woman #10 by Tom King and Daniel Sampere

[lilithofpenandbook]

"Tell your baby that I'm your baby" but it's Severus watching as Sirius laughs and jokes with Minerva and Albus and he's calling her "Minnie" and she swats at him with a laugh and says it seems Azkaban didn't kill that cheeky streak of his now did it "ye wee sugar-tongued menace" but when Severus says anything even slightly disrespectful like that she scolds him and tells him to remember who his elders are, and Sirius is there and he's making her laugh, Sirius is there calling her "Aunt Minerva" after that and she's calling him her "lad" but that's what Severus gets to call her, Severus is supposed to be Minerva's "lad", but it only took a few moments for him to have what Severus has taken 13 years to catch even a tiny little piece of, Minerva's taken it away to give to Sirius at once, and there's Albus just smiling and his eyes are twinkling like stars like they've never twinkled at Severus, he can't remember if Albus ever looked at him like that, and it only took a short while for Sirius to once again have the favour, the love, that Severus has spent over a decade trying to earn even a fraction of, he's their golden boy again, he gets to sit with them and laugh with them and call them his mates, he's their boy, even though Severus has done everything he can, yet no, it's Sirius who they love effortless, it's Sirius who didn't need to do a thing to earn it, it's Sirius who has now taken his place, Sirius is their "snarky lad" now, he's come in and taken it all.

And neither of the two seem to care that Severus is the one who's supposed to be theirs.

[scribblesscribblings]

Woe, curse of Cayden Cailean be upon ye (gives you the worst hangover of your life)

[lulu2992]

Speaking of BioShock Infinite, have I ever told you about that time I made a timeline of the BioShock series?

Tumblr made the image smaller so I’ve uploaded the original here :)

It’s far from being exhaustive because the reason I drew this in the first place was to make sure I really understood Infinite (the ending, especially) and Burial at Sea, so only the most significant and/or pivotal events are featured here. I later added some stuff from the other two games and the Minerva’s Den DLC after playing them. However, the novel BioShock: Rapture isn’t included because I haven’t read it (and it seems it’s generally not considered canon anyway).

I made this 8 years ago (with Paint, haha) but very recently translated it and made some adjustments so I could post it! I didn’t check everything I wrote because it’s been a while since I’ve really thought about the lore of BioShock, so I decided to trust my 2015 self and assume she knew what she was doing :’)

[kittycrumb]

final season girls!!!

i drew this to try to get me out of art block, it was really fun i enjoyed it i love all the girls from this game, i was originally going to draw lilly too but she didn’t fit with the theme. i hope to redraw this in the future and maybe add the boys to it as well. for now enjoy this :3

i hope to draw brody and minerva more in future, i really like their characters. this took me around 13 hours, i redid minnie and the outlines for ruby twice lol. clem and vi were the first ones i drew and unfortunately the style is kind of inconsistent with them, i need to figure out how i like to draw them hehe.

[m00neroni]

I understand that the author kept the fact that Remus was an actual active and loved part of the Marauders as a way of maintaining some kind of secretism, especially with his connection to Sirius.

But, it makes me feel so bad for him. Like, how much more invisible can he be? How overlooked even by someone like Minerva, who loved her students so much? What a fucking loser.

[muse-of-fandoms]

Desmond miles 🤝 paul atreides 🤝 eren yeager

I saw my ancestors memories, I saw what you have done to them, so I will do the same to you.

I am the culmination of desperation and hatred, I was created thousands of years ago, my destiny written and carved into the very universe.

But I will not yield, You have created me to change the world and I will do it. But not in the way you want me to. I puppet my own strings, and with this path you made, even for the salvation I was suppose to bring to you. My hands will be stained in blood, and the only thing you can hope is that all those thousands of lives you gave will be enough.

[st3ddie-starchas3r]

Of course James Potter was Minerva’s favorite. Fleamont is her best friend and she is James Godmother after all.

[chtonicscion]

I've started reading the Odyssey but I'm very bitter about the fact that in this book (and most Portuguese translations tbf) they say Ulisses instead of Odysseus. so I keep calling the book Ulissey instead

[vigilskeep]

the reason i’m excited that i’m having fun with gwenyf (my current cadash) is that if i succeed with a dwarf rogue i will satisfy all the bizarre elements of my brain that wish me to have one protagonist of each class and race via minerva keir gwenyf. and i will finally, for at least one worldstate variant, be at peace

[softquietsteadylove]

Kisses

Thena looked up as a cup of punch was lowered into her periphery. If it were anyone else she would be launching it straight into the trash, but she accepted with a sigh. "Thanks."

Gil took a seat next to her on the sidelines of things. "Is it that bad?"

The allowed herself a little laugh. No, it wasn't. She didn't enjoy school events at the best of times, but Sersi and Makkari wanted to come, and they wanted her to come too.

They were currently on the dance floor, shuffling around with their 'boyfriends' awkwardly.

Thena sighed again, more heavily this time.

"Okay, yeah, I kind of agree with that," Gil chuckled, tugging at the tie he'd worn and then almost immediately loosened. "But it turned out good! Sersi must be happy about that."

"Thrilled," Thena smiled into her plastic cup of some kind of sparkly cranberry juice mix. "The student council has been going back and forth on all the things they had planned, apparently. They couldn't decide how to decorate, if they should hand out flowers, chocolates, let students elect things to do."

"Huh," Gil scratched at his cheek. She wasn't sure if he was aware of it, but he had a little facial hair just starting to come in around his lip and under his chin. "I mean I think everyone always likes something that involves candy the best. I gave some kisses to Minerva--from geography."

Thena looked at him, eyes wild, nothing short of flabbergasted.

Gil didn't seem to catch onto what had her so shocked she had nearly yelped like a cat with its tail stepped on. "She gave me some first. She knows I like chocolate, so that was nice of her, I guess."

Thena's mind caught up with her and she turned around again, blinking to try and calm her frayed nerves. The chocolates--the little candies shaped like dollops of...well, chocolate. That was what he meant. He didn't mean he had kissed the girl.

Thena really, truly thought Minerva had a thing for Gil, but he denied it backwards and forwards every time they brought it up as his friends. He swore she was just a friend, from the only class of his where he was without any of the rest of their group.

"Did anyone give you any?"

She snorted, taking another sip. She was pretty sure there was glitter in this drink (that couldn't have been healthy to consume).

"What?" he laughed, sitting up from his heavy forward slouch. The dishevelled and uneven ends of his tie swayed as he moved. "It's a fair question."

She rolled her eyes. "No, it is not. No one brings the devil flowers, Gilgamesh."

He rolled his eyes at her full-naming him. But he nudged her arm with his ever so gently. "You are not, and I know plenty of guys like you."

"I'm sure I don't want to know," she muttered, setting aside the noxious liquid. They were on the very top of the bleachers, so concealed by the dark there was no risk of anyone tipping it over by accident.

"No, you don't," Gil agreed, and she managed to laugh a little because of it. He leaned back. "Sometimes they ask me about you and I tell them they have to talk to you for themselves. That seems to scare them out of it."

"Good," she muttered as darkly as possible. But Gil was still laughing, and that always made her laugh. Somehow, no matter how dour and snippy her attitude, it never seemed to affect Gil's good humour.

"What about you?" she asked, attempting to be more than a storm cloud hanging over him. "Aside from Minerva, I mean."

"What, like, did anyone give me a card or something?" he asked, seeming just as taken aback by the question as she had been. But he had no sardonic remark, just a charming and honest blush in his cheeks. "Come on, as if."

"Why not?" she probed him, teasingly but gently, because who in the world could razz someone as sweet as Gilgamesh? She scooched closer to him on the polished wood bench. "People like you."

He stayed quiet, fiddling with his undone tie. He looked out to where their friends were awkwardly but earnestly hovering close together. Sersi and Ikaris were the much more awkward couple, new to their romance.

Druig and Makkari were dancing with their foreheads touching and their eyes closed. It was a little much - mortifying - for a school dance, but that never seemed to affect them. They were off in their own little blissful world.

"Isn't it, like, embarrassing?" he murmured, looking away from their friends in the throes of romance. "That--in public?"

"Hm," Thena agreed with him with a faint laugh. She did think it would be mortifying to display such affections amongst their peers, let alone in the confines of a school auditorium. But from what Sersi and Makkari were always going on and on about, this was the height of their hearts' happiness. "I wouldn't know."

"Me neither."

A pause settled over them. Gil fussed with his tie again and Thena brushed something off the skirt of her dress. It fluttered just below her knees. She looked at him.

Gil grumbled as she took the ends of his tie into her own hands. "Hey, I worked hard to get this thing on."

"And for what--five minutes?" she challenged him, undoing it for him properly so he could at least stop pulling at it. "I've never even seen you wear a tie."

And they had known each other much of their lives.

"Sersi told us all to look our best," he shrugged, because of course he had taken that the most to heart--far more than anyone else their age would.

Because if his friend had planned a fancy party and wanted him to dress to the nines for it, Gil would. That was just what he was like.

Thena shook her head with the utmost fondness. Although, now that Gil's top few buttons could come undone, she also sagged in her seat, leaning her elbow on her knee. "I'm trying to discern how long is long enough to show her we made the effort."

Gil flicked his arm up in the air to get his sleeve to expose his watch. "I mean it's been...an hour?"

One hour--was that all?"

"Maybe another half hour will be okay," he suggested with an impish grin. "If she asks if you danced you can always lie and say she was too distracted by Ikaris to notice."

Thena hid her laughter in her palm. The way Gil sang the name so mockingly touched her heart; that was exactly how she felt about that boy, no matter how infatuated with him Sersi was. "Lie to our friends, Gil? I can't believe you would suggest that."

He shrugged completely remorselessly. "That's what I was gonna tell her."

Another pause loomed over them. Thena resisted the urge to fuss with her dress again, instead tucking some hair behind her ear.

"Hey," Gil leaned in closer--close enough to whisper over the music coming from the sub-par sound system. "Ikaris told me he was gonna...y'know..."

She just blinked at him. She didn't know; she had no idea what any of it was like. She shook her head.

Gil scooched even closer to her, until they were pressed right up together, side to side. He was warm, even with his suit on. "He told me he's gonna try to kiss Sersi tonight."

Thena's jaw dropped as if he had told her the scandal of the century.

"Hey, be cool," he whispered to her, nudging her arm again and then moving his bulkier - much thicker - one out of the way and behind them. "If it were Druig or the others I wouldn't say anything, y'know. But I mean...I don't care about keeping Ikaris' secret as much."

Thena did her best to suppress her laughter again. In truth, she didn't think Gil disliked Ikaris as much as she did. He had mostly started making such jokes when she had confessed to him that bringing Ikaris into their friend group for Sersi's sake had not been her favourite change to happen that year.

"I guess they've been going out for-" he dropped off, somewhat counting on his fingers. He looked at her.

"Two months," she confirmed for him dryly. "Sersi brought up to us that she had hoped tonight might be...something."

Gil raised his brows at that, but Sersi's secrets were much more protected by both of them. He nodded.

"I think she'll accept," Thena mused, observing their deeply smitten friend sway side to side with the young man in the navy blue t-shirt and jeans (she had asked them to dress appropriately; he couldn't do that much?). "If he does try to kiss her."

"I guess," Gil also offered passively. "I dunno, I didn't really think they were that serious."

"Unfortunately, I think Sersi is quite serious," Thena lamented, looking down at her lap. The mood lighting of the room swirled around them, and she caught her reflection in the dark of her phone screen. "She thinks she's utterly and completely in love with him."

"Huh."

"Hm."

Gil scratched at his chin again. Thena wondered if he would have to shave it soon or if he was leaving it on purpose. It did make him look somewhat distinguished. "I guess I don't really know the feeling."

Thena turned her phone over so her reflection wouldn't show in the white case she had on it, clasping her hands even over that. "Same."

"Have you ever, uh...y'know?"

She looked at him, wondering about what vagueries he was asking now. But he looked even more sheepish than before, almost guilty. "What?"

"Like," he paused again, looking around. They were at the furthest, darkest corner away from everyone. Their friends probably wouldn't even be able to see them from the ten feet away they were. "Kissed?"

"Have I kissed someone?" she asked, making sure she had the context right. The lights passed over them again and she caught a funny shade of red in Gil's cheeks. So sweet. "No."

"Oh." That was all he had to say?

"You would know if I had," she postulated, which made him shrug his shoulders at a loss.

"I mean, we don't have to tell each other everything-everything," he excused for himself. "I know you haven't gone out with anyone. But - I dunno - maybe you'd....just...whatever."

He let it go, uncomfortably at that. But she had to admit, he had piqued something in her. She looked at him with a brow raised. "Have you?"

"Have I what?"

Now he wanted to be obtuse? She frowned, "kissed someone."

"No."

"No?"

"No!" he protested more, which only made her more suspicious. "When would I have-?!"

Thena shrugged, also feeling defensive about the suddenly tender subject between them. "Like you said, maybe you'd gone and...done it with someone I don't know."

"Like who?!"

"Minerva," she blurted out before she could think better of it. Because when she did think about it, she was the one who brought up Minerva liking Gil more than their other friends. They did bring it up! She just brought it up...more.

Gil huffed, rolling his eyes. "What is with that? Why don't you believe she doesn't like me?"

"I just," Thena fussed with the sleeve fluttering around her arm, agitating her already frazzled state. "You never seem to take it seriously when I do suggest it."

"Well," he also began winding down from their heightened reactions to each other. He looked down at his shiny dress shoes. He really had gone all out. "Even if she did--and I'm not saying she does!"

Thena huffed; point taken.

He shrugged though, the last of the tension in the air oozing out of him. "I dunno--I guess it wouldn't really matter to me."

"No?" Thena had to question (for the last time, she told herself).

"No," he shrugged again, because he never seemed to get wound as tight as she did. Gil didn't hold grudges, or grind his teeth, or snap at people out of reflex. "She's cool, but I don't like her like that."

"Oh," Thena hoped she could leave it at that. A new feeling settled in her gut, and she couldn't really put a name to it.

"Oh!" Gil blinked, some horror coming back to him. "Did you think--'cause of the thing I said?"

Thena took a second to catch up again, only to realise he was implying that she had misread his initial statement about 'kisses', which she had. But she gratefully - and duplicitous as it was - used it as cover for the multiple misunderstandings. "Y-Yes, I thought...maybe-"

"Oh, n-no! No, I, uh-" Gil fussed with himself again, although now that his tie was hanging limply and loosely around the back of his neck he had nothing to focus on. He toyed with the buttons of his shirt instead. "Never kissed anyone."

"Hm." Thena looked forward again, feeling oddly embarrassed about the mix up. She hadn't meant anything by it. Gil could kiss someone if he wanted to. He didn't have to report anything to her, no matter how close they were. She watched Druig and Makkari, still absorbed in each other.

They leaned in close, and although they were still rotating slowly on the spot, it was quite recognisable even from a distance.

"I do wonder what it's like."

Gil looked at her, and Thena realised with abject horror what she had voiced aloud. He just looked at the dance floor again, though. "Yeah, I guess I am kinda curious."

Suddenly the music coming through the old, rented speakers sounded quieter. Or maybe her heart in her own ears sounded louder. She looked down at her hands, clasped together. She was wearing a bracelet. Why was she wearing a bracelet?

Because Makkari had put it on her wrist, claiming the green beads matched her eyes.

She and Gil both caught each other sliding their eyes over. Then they dashed away again. That silence looming over them was so heavy it was basically lying over them like a blanket.

"Have you ever..." Gil paused, clearing his throat as his voice hiccuped a bit. His voice had changed earlier than their other friends. She liked how nice and smooth it sounded. "Thought about it...kissing?"

She had thought about it, but it was either to disdain it or to assure herself that she had no need for such a thing. She hadn't so much considered what it might actually be like. It was an objectively questionable activity, putting two mouths together. What was the fun in that?

She peeked at Gil again. Would the hair on his upper lip tickle?

He took her silence for something it wasn't and physically leaned away from her. "Sorry, I-"

"Maybe."

She wasn't quite sure what made her say it. But she didn't want him to leave; she didn't want him to have taken her hesitation for rejection. Because she didn't know what she was rejecting, but if it was Gil, she didn't want to reject anything.

"Y-Yeah?"

Her awareness narrowed again. Back to the dark, and the lights, and her own heart pounding in her ears. It was all she could hear; surely Gil could hear it too. She gulped. "Have you?"

He stopped trying to get up and leave, at least. Actually, he leaned closer to her again. She could see his eyes were on her and then all of a sudden he was looking not at her eyes, but still at her face. He was looking at her lips. "I think so."

Had he thought about kissing her? Was he thinking about it now or had he thought about it before? Thena looked at his lips too. They were nice lips. Boys tended not to have much in the lip department but she liked that Gil's were shaped like the letter 'M'. Maybe that was too much to notice about his lips.

Gil swallowed, and she could hear it, they were so close. Her hand was on the bench against her leg. Gil's hand was too. He moved closer. His fingers dallied with hers, his other arm hovered behind her back. He wasn't wrapping it around her or anything, but it was quite impossible to be unaware of where Gil put his massive arms.

"Would you wanna....?"

Thena leaned in first. It was short, and not necessarily romantic. She didn't have the right angle, just pressing her lips directly front facing against his. She expected to have her hypothesis proven; that kissing was overrated and two mouths pressed together did not magic make.

But Gil moved. He tilted his head against hers, moved his lips against hers. His hand moved closer--over hers. His finger slipped into the loop of that stupid bracelet to touch the inside of her wrist.

And then her awareness of that went away. She lost all focus on all sensations other than his lips moving against hers. His lips were soft, and his facial hair did tickle a little. And then he would move his lips again and she would move hers because of reflex. And she found herself enjoying the kiss, possibly even yearning for more.

Gil pulled back first, hovering close but far. Their breathing was harder than it was before, intermingling in their close proximity. She could feel his breath hitting her cheek. It brought up the realisation that it was burning hotter than she could ever remember in her whole life. She just hoped it was dark enough that Gil couldn't see.

And she still felt like he could tell how hard her heart was pounding.

"Uh," he started nervously, and very Gilgamesh. He nearly raised a hand to touch his lips but stopped himself. She was horrified to think she had drooled on him or something. But he looked up, grinning at her. "That was...okay--r-right?"

"Hm," she squeaked out, unable to formulate more thought on it at the moment. They were still sitting so close, and he smelled nice, and he gave off so much warmth. "It was...nice."

Even in the dark of the room, his eyes brightened, and she almost flailed to correct herself, in case she was being overzealous about something only she was feeling.

But he was still holding her hand, and he even threaded their fingers together. "I liked it too."

"Hm," she puffed out, having to look away in order to regain some control of her breathing. One hand was still occupied with his, but the other was free to try and help her feel more composed. She tucked some hair back again, resisting the urge to outright fan her overheated skin.

"Well, uh," Gil hesitated, his usual nerves coming through. But he was still the one holding her hand. "Now we...know."

"Yes," she gulped, still feeling more out of sorts than she felt she should. She managed to peek at Gil, and he was touching his fingers gently to his lips again. She really didn't know what he was looking for, or if she wanted him to find it or not. "Now we know."

The silence returned over them, hand holding aside. Gil was trying to think of what to say; she could tell, because he nearly had smoke coming out of his ears from the effort. Not that she was much better.

His finger toyed with one of the beads on the bracelet again. "This is nice."

It had nothing to do with anything. But she took the out. "It's Makkari's."

"It's pretty," he complimented, maybe lamely, but genuinely. Gil didn't say things he didn't mean. "It matches your eyes."

Her heart wasn't going to calm down at all. She worried if it was too much activity for it all at once. But Gil had made the first leap, and she wanted to know what would happen if she made the second.

"Would you want to...?"

Gil looked at her, eagerly hanging on for her to finish her question.

He was going to make her say it; she squirmed. She looked at their friends again, who were mercifully still engrossed in their own romances. Maybe she did understand just a little more what had happened to their brains to make them the way they were now.

She looked at Gil, and it certainly seemed as if all her sound and reasonable thoughts completely left when she looked at his face. Her eyes looked at his lips again, and that was even worse. "We could...try it again."

[okalanissolis]

⌖ ๋࣭ ⭑♚₊🗡 ๋࣭ ꜱᴇᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴇxɪꜱᴛ

ᴀ ᴄᴇʟᴇꜱᴛɪᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ᴀ.ᴜ.

⌖ ๋࣭ ⭑♚₊🗡 ๋࣭ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ๋࣭🗡₊♚⭑ ๋࣭⌖

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ɪꜱ ᴄᴏɴꜱɪᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ . . .

pt. ii | | series masterlist

focus on: muni sarang (diane meunier), choi san, & song deokhee word count: ~4.6k warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™, mentions of violence, occasional graphic imagery, mentions of semi-main character death, Even More Gods Are Introduced and i think that is lovely

ᴛᴄᴅᴜ (ᴛᴏᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴏʟᴜᴛᴇᴅ, ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ) ɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ !

⌖ ๋࣭ ⭑♚₊🗡 ๋࣭

lilo's mic: still knee deep in history but with more character introductions! i think at some point i might do a character recap page where i can offer some quick stats about the character's strengths and role, but idk if it would be helpful or just another way that i Procrastinate™ — let me know your thoughts !

⌖ ๋࣭ ⭑♚₊🗡 ๋࣭

⌜ my girl pinched my hips to see if i still exist / i think not ⌟

ꜱᴇᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴇxɪꜱᴛ ๋࣭🗡₊♚⭑ ๋࣭⌖

— ʜᴀᴇᴍᴏ ᴘᴏʀᴛ was the main harbour of hoku city. home to the oldest and most robust working port on the island, the leeward side of the city was often referred to as haemopu side — an amalgamation of the names ʜᴀᴇᴍᴏꜱᴜ, the god of light and namesake of haemo port; and ᴋᴀᴘᴜ: sacred, taboo, forbidden. it was an unspoken rule that the shadows that danced on haemopu side were all puppets of that power known as serpens, and if you saw their strings or witnessed their plays, you would keep quiet, or your days were numbered — your gift from samgong through.

— still, haemo port was vast and wide, and business had to keep. it wasn't particularly bad luck to be a shop stationed near haemo port: there was so much foot traffic there, so many lives crossing back and forth, still hungry to survive; the best of money could be found for those who dared haemopu and kept their sight where it belonged — out of their eyes and in the open hands of hoku — or so the urban prayer went.

to the untrained eye, haemo port and ʜᴀᴇꜱᴜ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴇᴛ (the road that led to the devouring mouth of it) were the same as any other harbour on the island: only slightly more complicated than the sum of their intricately stacked, labyrinthine parts; bathed in light by enormous streetlamps so that when the sun went down, the majesty of ʀᴀᴋᴇᴛᴜ, night, couldn't be the refuge with which spirits attempted to thwart demons. but the fangs of some serpents still found their venomous purchase, and the storefronts along haesu street were often just that — fronts. legitimate stores, but facades for things still sinister, sliding their way through the waters, encircling your world, whole.

— on the furthest place inland haesu street ever went, there was an old business complex that had stood so long the original signage was lost and along with it, the precedent name. haemo complex, haesu park, haemo plaza, haemopu ether — old things have many names, and in legend, the many named becomes gods. inside the six story building, shops and establishments checked in and out like aimless souls in a graveyard: some lingered, some faded, some lasted the test of time.

on the first floor of haesu complex stood a taekwondo studio.

next to it, an indoor shooting range.

— we start this story with the taekwondo studio — the dojang, where mountains go to be edified and pupils to be fortified. eventually, we will open the door to see what is made with bullets and loose gunpowder, but for now, we take an abrupt turn right, through the third set of doors on the ground floor.

ᴄʜᴏɪ ᴊᴇᴏɴɢᴄʜᴇᴏʟ, father of one, was the owner of the modest studio: a stern man with a compassionate underbelly, a fourth dan black belt and the first sabeom — teacher — to enter the business complex. in the early days, when he was newly teaching and the world was more cruel and wanton than it ought, he orchestrated and ran illegal fights in the backmost part of his dojang. necessity begged it; life forced his unwavering hand. he'd never been proud, but he stood in his choices steadfast, and if you only saw the whole of him from an angle upturned and below, it seemed the might of him was his honor, unmarred.

dealing in entertainment and prestige, jeongcheol made ends meet in the evening to bring necessities and opportunity to his wife and newborn son at dawn, and by noon, instill dreams in the children that called him sabeom, center of their budding confidence.

when the serpens found out about his midnight habits, they paid a prompt price for front row tickets. by the end of the evening, jeongcheol's rental payments were moved to an account more reliable, and his small family moved out of the back office space and into one of the apartments that sat on the fifth and sixth floors. in exchange, the fights would persist on a grander scale at a more regular schedule ad infinitum, and the serpens would get their due cut.

jeongcheol always knew that this favor would amount to more debt, in the future, but for the security he was promised, in this blood oath? for the advantage and chance he could bestow upon his son? if it were shortsighted and misguided — this business deal with the serpent of the sky — then forgive him, but omniscience was simply the name of his city, not the power in his mind.

— and as san, his darling boy, grew from jeja to seonbae and in the course of time, sabeom all his own — a 3rd dan black belt and the pride of jeongcheol's world — the price of a demon's mercy became ever clearer, crystalizing into the certainty of future: law.

— it was in that very dojang, after all, that jeongcheol added to his myriad of students two young girls: diane and soyeon, dawn and dusk. jeja diane, a student named wisdom, took early to sparring with san, never minding that the younger always won, ever scheming to learn from a protégé's skill.

when san was chosen to be the demon heir's protector, it wasn't a matter of surprise or honor, simply that of providence.

and san was dignified by it, at any rate.

— only ever envisioning an inherited taekwondo studio for himself, a modest future but fulfilling dream, san's world expanded at the hands of diane — and his dojang, while still being the center of all his tethered existence, was a future now shared. ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ, a pupil and friend, would aid him in handling the fights in the backmost part all of his father's hope and shame, an eternal rite, the sisyphean promise the choi family would never complete.

— jeongcheol had slowly backed away from the uglier side of his business as he aged into complacency and fatigue, and san had taken up the mantle in his place. now, sin would beget sin and shackled to the serpens would be yet another soul.

yeo was clear that he didn't mind.

already one foot into corruption, what was one more leg?

— he'd been cleaning up bruises from betting fights and broken limbs from shadow duels for years. he'd sewn flesh together the way others might knit tenderness and virtue, goodness and love.

every dojang needed it's medic. and every medic needed his charge.

— this was merit enough, for the both of them. respect for san in being trusted with something on which the whole of the underworld revolved; prestige for yeosang in the power inherent of a ruling head of a domain long standing, and in it's ancience, revered.

and watching them both, once the hand that led them deep into the mouth of something ravenous, still, stood choi jeongcheol, left wondering when security was no longer security — a promise no longer words of honor.

ꜱᴇᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴇxɪꜱᴛ ๋࣭🗡₊♚⭑ ๋࣭⌖ ᴄᴏɴᴛ.

— diane had asked him to disappear, again.

— it was never an explicit demand, not since the first time, when she'd been following the tail of a banker and realized it would be so much easier to approach him if she were just a woman and not a daughter, held.

the nameless banker had decided he no longer wished to be a pigeon fed from an opened hand but a raven shot out of the sky, the shiny things he stole slipping from his traitor beak and landing back into the hand of the power that wielded the shotgun evermore.

— "you're intimidating, san." and it hadn't been her words or the command in her eye so much as it was a shift in her being — sarang to diane, veracity to something mutable and ever brewing. "i need to ensnare him..."

and he'd slipped away, taken her half-cue and was already gone.

— if the demon of hoku knew how often diane asked him to slip away, san was sure the mythic ernest would be none too pleased. it takes half a second for malignance to seize you in hoku city, and only a fraction of that if you're particularly inclined. of course, san was never far, and sarang more competent than what the wills of well meaning fathers offered her, but it would be more than just san's immortal soul on the line if something befell her and he were at all still breathing.

but it was always sarang's eyes that sought for the mercy of him, in the hairbreadth turn of her infinitesimal micro-expression, the graceful warp into something so unseen it were all but hidden to eyes that were any less devoted than his. and it was never a question because she would never need to ask; he'd learned to read the depths of her during sparring sessions in a dojang made of his youth and all his tomorrow. once, he'd crafted alongside her the armor that was so much a second skin, there were barely any joints or seams that one could rub the pad of their thumb along.

he'd seen her, then, and so he always knew.

— and that's how he found himself here, again. vanished from a spot he said he'd always defend: dematerialized, because bang chan had come to call.

— or so diane let the boy think. she'd found chan first, weeks before this encounter he'd name 'chance' or 'fate'. it had been simple to learn his routine and easier to insert herself in it. a coffee shop he always walked past. her new favorite window seat. a position so comfortable it looked as though it had always been.

and so they talked; this woman neither diane nor sarang, crafting a life by degrees of admission, chan warming to the gentle flame of her lies so that eventually, perhaps, knowledge of him would melt, secrets in him slip between them, in this place behind glass, warm between cups of untouched coffee.

not even san would hear the things chan would reveal in his adventurous, half-flirtatious speech. the thought often made the black belt's heart skid — his resolve stutter — but the bulk of him never wavered. he was a mountain and summits never crumbled; their might certainly never moved.

and that simple conflict of interest was something his friends never failed to entertain, and in mocking, enjoy.

— ᴅᴇᴏᴋʜᴇᴇ, twin sister of ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ and the one-minute younger half of their expert gunman team, was the one to first discover san's internal battle, having joked about his affection for diane from his sabeom days at the dojang. first, a true baseless joke, then overtime, a comfortable uncomfortability for san as it grew in truth and size.

san and his diane; no one loved their work the way san did; if san could marry duty he would.

— if he wasn't always looking at deokhee down the barrel of her sniper rifle, he just might knock some humility into her near prophetic teasing and her twin's identical shit eating grin.

but what was he to do when she was, in part, always right?

— sarang laughed at something chan said, and diane reached out to touch his shoulder with the soft of her hand. san turned his gaze, somehow half guilty, and that's when he saw the ephemera of a shadow he should not have.

what was kim hongjoong doing all the way here?

— first order of business would be to pull sarang from the place at which she stood. second would be to see just who the informant whisperer was that hongjoong strove to meet. third would be to evaluate just where that placed this puppet-master of secrets in the ever turbulent waters of organization and fealty — obeisance and axis.

— san was standing in front of her in the coffee shop before the shadow had ever truly dissipated — before any of the prior thoughts had fully formed in his mind.

sarang was good at smoothing her own confusion and concern, and playing the part of the innocent and sheltered. she huffed a convincing sigh and muttered something about a father that, overprotective, cut her time with this young officer short, and san caught the thrown word of 'cousin' like a fire-hot, thousand pound and ever-burning coal.

so that's how she'd explained his presence to chan.

— when she knew she'd almost been caught in the act by hongjoong, sarang swore.

— ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ was a member of the serpens syndicate, and had, since the death of byeonghwa, been the watchful eye that extended past the confines of hoku city. loyal to the demon — a horkos made potent in the poignance of a blood debt — hongjoong was trusted... so far as anyone could be reliable, in this city that ate you whole, in these times that twisted the sinew of your very heart. at any rate, he was an informant of ernest, and while not one nearly as volatile as soyeon, still convoluted in intent.

he would be interested — perhaps even moreso curious than san, who daily burned all of his inquisition and steadfast resolve near through — as to what the demon heir was doing out here, in the pristine half of hoku city, talking with an officer that would just as soon as imprison her, if he knew even a fraction of the atrocities and moral impurities she ordered and aided, abetted and carried out.

— of course, even if hongjoong were to ask, sarang would never tell.

— not even with san, himself, did sarang reveal her true intentions in this business involving newly minted officer bang chan, a rookie at some few years post-graduation, an acquaintance turned friend from their first windfall encounter. not even with san, who knew the verity of sarang and had cherished her humanity from it's first appearance, did she let any information slip, a single hint pass.

he'd look into her eyes and unexpectedly, a wall was there — a guardedness of which he'd never known. she was no longer forthright about all possibilities with him. her thoughts were not so easily read, her want not so readily known.

— but that was not the worry that had the jaw with which to gnaw at san. not yet, anyway. not when hongjoong was surreptitiously on the same path as them, in a place where neither was colloquially seen (his informant hadn't been anyone of note, and so the consequence of his gained knowledge that day couldn't have been much, but one could never be complacent, if they wished to thrive).

— not when soyeon was unhappy, and sarang was the fool to not believe it.

— not when ernest, kingpin of terror, chessmaster of the underworld and ruler of hoku city, was mired in that slow changing-of-hands and place of gentle retreat where all of his speech was about the hand of iku, that terrify in the weight of dying.

the death of a demon was always a wounded threat that demanded first redress.

— it had started, in part, with the death of byeong-hwa. what was a king, after all, when his sworn shield had fallen? what menace was left in a monster, when his right hand was rotting, 6 feet below? the monsoon season would come, and a sickness would plague ernest along with the rain. jangma was the will of bada — the monsoon season the cursing volition of the sea. it was divine law, in some ways, that bada would claim her vengeance on hoku by taking it's epicenter and sweeping it's fortune and prosperity into her tumultuous seas, but it was still too soon, and thus, a secret well hidden.

no one in the serpens outside of the few remaining elders that sat at the demon's table, byeong-hwa's only daughter, his heir, and his warded nephew knew of the state of ernest's true mind.

the tides were swelling, the ground was saturating; bada was clambering toward the city, and at the time least affordable, the cracks between sarang and soyeon's friendship and intertwined lives deepened to a schism, with roots on either side, blooms torn apart, thorns tearing stem like gnashing teeth devouring flesh.

— when it rains, it pours, and in jangma, the storms were violent and unending; when bada raged, all the gods hovered close to witness her torrential price.

— "i'll tell ʏᴜɴʜᴏ." when they were haemopu side, diane turned to san, the silence between them broken, the confidence that always held in it's place perhaps worse for wear, if either of them had the resolve to mention it. "he'll have some clever way to spin hongjoong off our track - if he even saw anything in the first place."

— san nodded: just once, a jerky motion that left this world still buzzing, a dull, low whine.

yunho, sarang's cousin, was a close confidant of theirs. he moved into the serpens complex when he was 17. some commonplace tragedy left him with a want in the pit of his belly, and ever since the breaking down of all that tied sarang to soyeon and night to the dawining day, he had played the role of strategist and pragmatic advisor to his cousin — a safer, less volatile option for diane to pick, considering soyeon had always been her council, former.

— diplomats need their advisors; conmen require their marks. diane had a necessity for yunho and a plan for bang chan, and of course, they would be dealt with first. san was just a bodyguard, and in this way, he'd always known his place. but favor had a way of lead to want, and if he tended to that fire, it could always lick its way past his defenses and consume him whole.

— sarang blinked, and the change pulled san from his thoughts the way it always would. born to serve, her movements were what he'd been shaped to read. "i guess i'll tell hermes that you stood him up for yunho again, when it's time for your 13:00 date and you don't show."

— sarang laughed at that, warm and clear, almost chasing away the mist that had gathered all through the day, at choice intervals and expected alleyways, thickening to the obscurity of fog. hermes was sarang's greyhound — the puppy she'd once found when younger but crowned wise. she never had taken him to the serpens complex, where he could be socialized with the dobermans she'd cared for most her life. instead, san took him in — an act of kindness she never stopped praising him for, never quite forthright about her reasoning but offering just enough to where he was satisfied.

"tell the twins when you see them i need to have a word."

ꜱᴇᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴇxɪꜱᴛ ๋࣭🗡₊♚⭑ ๋࣭⌖ ᴄᴏɴᴛ.

— the shop never had a name: just a wordless sign in the shape of a generic gun scope: the focus for an eye you'd never look into as you took your final, heaving breath.

the shooting range, the eye, akita's place, the final shop on the ground floor of haemo plaza.

— every child who'd ever touched a gun — any soul who had enough of some small mercy they had the fire to protect it in this heaving city — had, at some point, entered the shooting range that sat haemopu side. established longer than jeongcheol's dojang, but having changed hands at around the same time, the shooting range was owned by a woman named ᴀᴋɪᴛᴀ — ex-military but dishonorably discharged, a mother of twins, and simultaneously warm yet cold: distant, but always manning her station.

it was only natural that, sharpshooter of her squad, akita had taught her children to shoot from the moment their hands had the strength to thumb a trigger.

eyes bred to look at you through the barrel of a firearm, hearts trained to see the liberation at the end of a mission and none of the causalities between. akita took her twins, cradle of her future, and gave them all the skills she broke skin and bruised knuckle to hone. they would never have to struggle, because they would be born with skilled gift. they would have the freedom of honor, because no training would mar their resolve.

— at first, the shooting range was only that which sat within the four walls in the ground floor of that complex. but slowly it expanded: the back property, accessed through the side entrance, narrow but deep, for single sessions with moving targets; the abandoned lot near the docks that akita had come into possession of by chance and was appraising for sale until her daughter showed an aptitude for long range and a spark to pursue it.

before long, what was modest expanded, and with an open mouth, devoured until engorged. the shooting range was well known. beloved. conspicuous. exactly the sort of place one would expect to find a doorway into the depths of a now illegal, though still legitimate syndicate, and therefore, a place where they could never be found. in reverence and renown, akita secured a safe haven for her children, a place where they could rest without the fear of being poached.

two doors down, the serpens paid a lease, but here, in the four walls she maintained, they could never sink in their teeth.

but fate was the domain of samgong, and mischief the trait of hoku, and here, in a city where the presence of gods were only so strong because they were so ceaselessly revered, the two powers often conspired to thwart the dreams of those who dared trying, and those whose complacency masqueraded as crown.

— wooyoung, the older of the twins, was the impulsive to deokhee's passion. touched by caprice, drowning in compulsion — akita whispered into his ear as he grew up, tickling the soft skin hidden there, that he was born the same star sprite as hoku: before he became the omniscient eye, back when he was nameless, and his fervency was tried by the test of his father's tedium. in constant motion, neverending activity: "make no deals with iku, listen not to the obligation of horkos. you are a star, you belong to nothing but your own burn."

— deokhee, of course, was the fire burning her older brother brighter, still, the combustion in his path that kept him from apathy, that saw all his visions through. ᴇɴᴊɪ, her mother would call her, the fire god born into flesh. the ardor, the devotion, the commitment deepening to obsession, the dedication to wooyoung's whims, the conviction in her twin brother's mania. akita adored her daughter's fervency, fanned the flames of her exuberance never quenched. "shackle yourself to no one, my enji, you are not meant to be contained. never turn in on yourself; find a direction to incinerate: you are meant to set this world ablaze."

— avoiding flirtation with the fetters of the serpens was an unspoken request from akita, a desire never plainly raised. if she had been wiser (if she saw all too clearly the way serpents rise to challenge and adaptable, warp their venom to something honey-sweet) perhaps akita would have been more explicit in her demands, exact in all she envisioned and prayed to conspire. but it seemed an evident requirement, a moral anchored deep and in it's inevitability, made potent and strange.

"you are made for more," she had always told them.

but what can be done when your only framework of 'more' and 'greater' is the gunpowder residue of a superior weapon?

— once, akita built her children into crook of a firearm. ever after, they would know mostly it's bitter taste.

— none of this is to say, however, that the twins were a tragedy and their penchant something acrid, lead.

— deokhee was bottled excitement and effervescent joy in every task, and wooyoung the kind of gregarious that surrounded him with enthusiastic friendship and kindred brotherhood in every space he ventured to grace.

— and ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴜᴍɪɴᴀʀʏ was one of those third spaces that wooyoung and deokhee frequented most.

a serpens owned establishment: an electricity plant on the edge of town, with hidden rooms that opened into dark things that could only hide in the shadow of a generator as massive as that which fueled a never-blinking city. the luminary was one of the largest holes in the wall that the serpens ran. there, you could order any sin you could pay the ferryman to usher you to.

(so long as you were in the right room, of course. the serpens liked to keep their messes orderly.)

— the twins mostly frequented the rooms with standard bar fare. alcohol, dance, betting and games of chance, fisticuffs when more than just spirits hit you square in the jaw after one freedom too many. a common enough vice with a burgeoning sea of acquaintances and a militia of contacts and friends. it was here, in the pale of haemosu's light — all the glare they could harness but never reach — that the twin's sociability spun a web that was never meant to entrap them, but still made them the perfect players for a serpent game.

after all, it was in the luminary that the twins aligned themselves with the ꜱᴘɪɴᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴇʀ ʙɪᴋᴇʀꜱ.

a group of criminals and delinquents that rode through ꜱᴋɪᴛ — the next door neighbor of hoku city, and the border at which the serpens let their needles halt. the serpens owned hoku, and every gang and group of would-be hopefuls that they'd long run out had taken up station in skit and brawled it out, there. a neighboring city was of no consequence to the serpens as long as they spilled blood on their rightful side of the fault line, and the spine breakers were a fairly established group that worked their own city and only occasionally crossed the borders of hoku — careful to always show their deference and pay their dues. they were a infrequent though to some familiar face in the luminary on nights when the moon hung low, mostly to work deals with the mercenaries for hire in the back, and always to chase a drink alongside the twins.

ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ was their closest companion of the lot, and if his drink of choice was an expected usual, and his uninspired flirtation with deokhee an affectionate and comfortable aside, then the night would be warm and the luminary waitstaff would make better money in tips than they had all month.

— and it was precisely that friendship with jungkook (and perhaps their closeness with san, though why make complicated something already written by fate?), that brought the twins to the serpens those aging years ago.

it had been hongjoong, newly syndicate minted, that noticed these two sparrows who somehow seemed to know everyone he had been keeping his thousand eyes on, and dared to ask himself what use could come with knowing their names.

it had been simple, after, for seonghwa to convince him that wooyoung was the easier approach, and for soyeon to cast the die on his fate.

(but that had been years ago: before the breaking down of factions, before suspicion and envy cast shadows that demons new not how to play, before ties were cut like marionette strings, and seonghwa and soyeon became a duo, and hongjoong, far enough from the barrel to not yet choose how to align, had to keep his ideas in his breast pocket and his lies tucked beneath his tie.)

— in the end, the twins were brought into the serpens because their connections would open doors that had no keys. it was through wooyoung and deokhee that the serpens greedy left hand reached into the heart of skit and, with an emboldened and wanting jungkook, staged a coup and installed this friend as the spine breaker's acting head.

ever after, the bikers would be in debt of the might of hoku, and in perpetuity, there would be scouts and reinforcements should there be need of aid from a distance.

— it was simply providence that the twins would have use beyond their sociability and want. it was the work of that ever mischievous hoku that in a chance encounter and a single ploy, diane was gifted with the two best marksman the city could afford.

danger, of course, in the single-minded passion of deokhee and the brilliant, aimless apathy of wooyoung, but when combined together (and wooyoung under the threat of the only one he swore obeisance to: san), they were a power more than their arsenal, a weapon greater than their might and distant reach.

— when san found the two of them sitting on his couch, deokhee knuckle deep in affectionate rubs for hermes, wooyoung eating noodles out of the pot, on his pinky swinging the apartment's spare key ("for emergencies," san had said, and pointedly handed it to deokhee), there was less a reaction of disappointment or surprise, and more an acceptance that at least this way, the message would be easily delivered, in brevity, made sweet.

"diane's calling."

⌖ ๋࣭ ⭑♚₊🗡 ๋࣭ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ๋࣭🗡₊♚⭑ ๋࣭⌖ pt. ii | | series masterlist

ᴛᴄᴅᴜ (ᴛᴏᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴏʟᴜᴛᴇᴅ, ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ) :

1 - jeongcheol, san's father, used to run a taekwondo studio. because times were hard, he ran illegal fights in the back of his dojang, and when the serpen's found out, they co-opted his business and expanded it. as he got older, he passed down his dojang to san, who now works as the bodyguard of diane. because of his busy schedule, he co-manages the dojang with yeosang, the medic of the taekwondo studio.

2 - the taekwondo studio is situated on haesu street in an unnamed work-live complex often referred to as haemo plaza. on the same floor as the dojang there is an unnamed shooting range, owned by akita, the mother of twin gunman for the serpens deokhee and wooyoung. akita does not know of her children's affiliation with the syndicate and would disapprove if she knew.

3 - san, deokhee, and wooyoung are all friends are are closely allied with diane. diane is also close allies with yunho, her cousin and strategist council after her falling out with soyeon has deepened in the past few years (there has been a vague multi-year time skip from pt. i to pt. ii).

4 - ernest, kingpin of the serpens, is currently dying. it is a well kept secret - but not from soyeon, who diane fears will use this knowledge opportunistically. recently, diane has been keeping many secrets from even her closest confidant, san, especially regarding her consistently visiting officer bang chan, trying to weasel from him secrets... but about what?

5 - hongjoong is a member of the serpens with many secrets and many informants. diane is unsure if, in the power vacuum created after ernest's death, if he will show loyalty towards her or soyeon, and so she is wary of what he knows, when he was in the area as she was meeting up with bang chan.

6 - hongjoong was the one to originally recruit twins deokhee and wooyoung, because they have many contacts in hoku and neighboring cities - notably jungkook, now leader of a biker gang in the neighboring city named skit.

7 - diane has a mission for deokhee and wooyoung heretofore lacking details or rhyme.

now onto pt. iii . . .

[lesvianism]

i feel like people wouldn’t have been so shitty in regards to violet if the game was more transparent about the issues within violet and minerva’s relationship before she was taken.

like i’m pretty sure the game developers did mention how vi wasn’t really getting the treatment she should’ve been (??) in the relationship, and you do see it in certain scenes, but those scenes are mostly in the romance violet route, so people who already decided to hate her and only play the louis route didn’t get to see them.

[liquidstar]

after a long pause i finally finished my newest oc batch ^_^ this time for owl feather: the scholar's guild. the members are more or less different types of academics, or just nerds, with their own different niches. as usual, more specific info+closeups under the cut <3

Name: Mercury

Name Origin: The planet named after the messenger god

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 28

Guild rank: Guidmaster

Weapon: Caduceus

Ethos (Power): Aileron (Enhanced speed and levitation)

Flaw power is based on: Her evasiveness- Though her power has evolved (the levitation) once she became guildmaster as she became a pillar for her guild, and successor to the former guildmaster.

Notes: I can be your angle... or yuor devil

Name: Keid

Name Origin: A star whose name means eggshels

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 19

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Chicken sickles

Ethos (Power): Computative prognostication (He can calculate the outcome of events in his own head, but he can’t see outcomes beyond the one he calculated)

Flaw power is based on: His overly cautious and ruminative habits, though he tries to play it off like he's way more chill and not constantly existentially overthinking

Notes: But which came first...?

Name: Alasia

Name Origin: A star whose name references Idalion Tablet, one of the oldest known contracts

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 15

Guild rank: 2 star

Weapon: Shovel

Ethos (Power): Erudition (Psychometry- The ability to read the past of any object by touch)

Flaw power is based on: Her extreme curiosity, while her inquisitiveness on it's own can be admirable she can often get obsessive about it.

Notes: She's an archeologist <3

Name: Dimidium

Name Origin: Exoplanet whose name means "half"

Pronouns: He/She

Age: 22

Guild rank: 4 star

Weapon: Double-ended flail

Ethos (Power): Vice-versa (Healing and reverse healing)

Flaw power is based on: His simultaneous obsequiousness and brashness- Two extremes that she fluctuates between in a way that's both unpredictable and unhealthy.

Notes: Generally stoic either way so it's hard to tell...

Name: Navi

Name Origin: Informal name for γ Cassiopeiae- A navigation point for Apollo 1

Pronouns: He/they

Age: 19

Guild rank: 3 star

Weapon: Arm

Ethos (Power): Kefi (Energy direction- He can channel his energy into powerful attacks into his weapon of choice, which they designed to be their own arm)

Flaw power is based on: Their over-zealous nature. Though passion is a good thing, their ferventness can absolutely make him lose track of himself.

Notes: A weaponsmith who’s figuring out more technological approaches

Name: Talitha

Name Origin: A star system, whose name means "Spring"

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 13

Guild rank: 1 star

Weapon: Plastic wand

Ethos (Power): Metamorphosis (Magical girl transformation. She can shoot beams out of her wand now.)

Flaw power is based on: Her extreme tendency for escapism, especially in idolizing fantasy.

Notes: She's a magical girl 💖💖💖

Name: Misam

Name Origin: A star whose name means "wrist"

Pronouns: They/them

Age: 28

Guild rank: 5 star

Weapon: Wrist blade

Ethos (Power): Rigor (Enhanced precision)

Flaw power is based on: Their surprisingly to-the-point, often cold-blooded nature.

Notes: Nerds can be cool too, guys.

Name: Perwana

Name Origin: An exoplanet whose name means moth

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 27

Guild rank: 5 star

Weapon: Lantern

Ethos (Power): Callous luminance (Physically palpable hard light, created from her lantern)

Flaw power is based on: Her tenancy to place the burden of guidance onto herself- Literally a guiding light for others. Mostly in regards to erudition, the symbolic connection between illumination and knowledge. She wants to illuminate everyone. But this can be at the cost of herself.

Notes: These are her summer clothes.

[celestialtitania]

sabertooth is just a guild made up of fairy tail fans who were too sad that their fav had disappeared to actually go join fairy tail