#i will potentially flesh out this concept later I have class soon

[fowlblue]

… AF Infection AU.

[dungeonofimaginesandheadcanons]

Next Time

Hakuren x F!reader

words: 4k

warnings: implied suicide

soulmate reincarnation au

One day bleeds into the next, turning to passing years and blurring lifetimes. Even with heavy fogs descending on inherited memories, your hearts had held firm. You and Hakuren had belonged to each other since your soul’s conception.

You began as childhood friends, struggling to survive in destitute families. You had grown up together. You showed each other your birthmarks by the creek, hiding behind trees so your parents wouldn’t catch you revealing so much skin to each other. Improper; even with chubby cheeks and tiny fingers you knew you weren’t supposed to reveal so much skin to a boy- your parents would have your head. 

When you got older, you massaged his shoulders and hands, sore from work on the farm, averting your eyes as he boyishly smiled up at you while you worked your thumbs into his palm. You ignored the butterflies in your stomach until you couldn’t hold them back anymore. 

After that, more childish sneaking. Your parents would have his head for stealing kisses the way he did. You met at night, and when he was supposed to be working the field, and sometimes the two of you managed to sneak off to the creek you two played at as children, showing a little too much skin again while you splashed in the water and didn’t even try to avert your eyes anymore.

He had wanted to take his time when it came to marrying you- wanted to propose when he had some money to his name and could take care of you and have a family with you. He wanted to have something to bring to your father when he asked for your hand. Neither of you expected the marriage proposal from the merchant’s son. 

You had only seen the boy before, but had never spoken to him. But he was well traveled, intelligent, and had wealth to offer your family for your hand- of course your father accepted. Hakuren was devastated, and avoided you for days before insisting on eloping. You wondered how could he even ask such a thing of you. To abandon and shame your family, potentially launch them into ruin by scorning a higher ranking member of society? It was unthinkable and you told him such.

You had your first real argument in your lives that day. You were both devastated; he felt betrayed by your refusal and you were just sad he refused to understand. You were picked up and mere week later without so much as a chance to speak with him again, and within the month you were a merchant’s wife- he wasn’t even invited to the ceremony.

You never saw him again in that life. You both died longing for something you hadn’t truly even known you’d lost, and the cycle started anew.

In your next life you shouldn’t have had the slightest chance to meet Hakuren, but you did. Poor again, you found yourself a little orphan left soaked and dirty on cobblestone streets. This time he was wealthy, the heir to a banking family. You met as teenagers by chance once, twice, then thrice, finding yourselves getting into and out of trouble each time. Stolen bread paid for, bruises from a fight treated with precious, dwindling supplies, and a warm meal brought on a cold night.

The fourth time he came accompanied by a young lady, blonde curls peeking out of a meticulously done updo. He introduced her as his fiancee and she glowed as he said it. Childhood friends, he said. Everyone had just known they would end up together from the time they were little. You stifled a cough as you eyed her. Some part of you felt bitter when you heard their story, but you didn’t know why so you ignored it. 

Over the next few weeks they brought you clean clothes and food, and when you broke into a fever they even had you treated by her own brother, a doctor. Unclean drinking water, cold, starvaton, and a number of other maladies had finally taken their toll. You died not long after of an illness that they couldn’t find a way to treat.

Your third life took him far too soon, death robbing him of his breath while he was sleeping in a cradle. You lived your life never having met him.

Your fourth life you met once the two of you had already married, your sons attending class together. While your husband traveled and Hakuren’s wife socialized and attended parties, the two of you met in private, without the knowledge of anyone else. 

Your husband divorced you when he found out, calling it scandalous as he sent you away without so much as a word to anyone, including your son and daughters. You went back to your childhood home in the country, where your aging parents still resided. Try as he might, Hakuren was never able to find you. 

Yours and Hakuren’s children eventually found you- Hakuren’s youngest daughter married your son. They moved you in with them and you were dismayed to find out Hakuren had passed on years ago: dropsy. You visited his grave and tended to it until the day you died. Your children buried you beside him, hoping that even if you were separated in life, you should at least be close to each other in death.

In the fifth, the first time you saw Hakuren he looked at you funny.

“Have we met before?” Your brow furrowed. You were fleeing a civil war in your country, and your ship had docked in this strange new place only two days ago. How could you have ever seen each other?

“I can’t say we have, I’m sorry. You must be mistaken.” In consolation, you offered him your name and he offered to show you around. You accepted.

You met the next day at midday, after he had snuck away from the other merchants he worked with. He showed you historical sites, shopping districts, markets, and he bought you a much too expensive necklace with a sapphire set in the pendant.

“It’s a welcome gift.” He says, too stubborn to take no for an answer. You’re forced to accept the overly generous gift, even if it’s beautiful and you secretly had really wanted it anyway.

Before you part ways that afternoon, you agree you meet again the next day, and it doesn’t stop there. You go from seeing each other during afternoons to seeing him in the evenings too, and then he’s staying overnight in your home and you wake up together the next morning. At some point in the relationship he shows up for an afternoon meeting with meals, bashfully admitting the two of you had been found out, and another member of the caravan had made the two of you something to eat for when you see each other.

One morning he turns over in bed, looks at you, and grins. You grin back, still a little drowsy, but giddy despite the hour.

“What are you smiling about so early?” You inquire. He rolls over onto you and buries his nose in your neck.

“I remember where I know you from.” His words are muffled by your skin, and you can feel the smile still on his face. You bury a hand in his hair and kiss the crown of his head.

“And where is that?”

“It’s a secret.” He kisses your shoulder, then the base of your neck, and works his way up to your mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist like they were meant to be there.

After a few more months you feel as if you’ve never been closer to anyone- like you’ve never known anyone better. You could spend the rest of your life with Hakuren and be so happy you feel as if the time might pass in an instant. When he tells you his group is leaving he sounds so disappointed, you almost don’t expect him to say that he’ll be coming back for you, but you laugh when he does.

“You sounded as if you we going away forever!” You joke, but Hakuren takes it very seriously.

“It feels like forever! I’d rather die than leave you for a second.” He whines, but as soon as you start laughing again so does he. 

The two of you dress together and eat breakfast together before heading out the door, into the warm sunshine and to the docks, where the other members of his merchant group wait for him. You converse with them for a few minutes until they’re due to leave, and when the ship sets sail you wave and watch until it disappears over the horizon. You already miss him.

“One month,” he had told you, “then I’ll be back.”

After two weeks, you got a letter. He arrived safely after ten days, and had sent a bird as soon as he had gotten on land, he wrote. Reim was truly something else, and he wanted to take you there someday. They’d be staying for a few days to pick up new merchandise to sell before coming back- there’d be a surprise for you as well. He couldn’t get you out of his head and he missed you more than anything. You traced the characters on the page as you read it, imagining the excitement he had written it with.

Another two weeks pass, and you don’t receive another letter but you’re not worried. He should be home any day now.

Another week- no word.

Five more days. Would he have sent another if they decided to stay longer?

Two more days pass before a body floats to shore, any flesh left exposed fish eaten and decaying. You don’t see it, but the fishermen who found her report that she was one of the people on the merchant ship Hakuren had been on. You tune out the rest of any rumors or gossip you hear, dodge the pitying looks of acquaintances. The ship likely sank, they said. Maybe from a sea monster, maybe from a storm, or maybe from deceptively calm waters. Either way, if nobody was back by now, they weren’t coming back.

You still held out hope. Hakuren wouldn’t just die on you- he was too stubborn for that, too devoted. He’d come back no matter what the cost.

You bit your fist to muffle your screams and cried when you couldn’t smell him on your sheets anymore.

You reread the letter in the middle of the night when you wake up from dreams of him. Any of number of nights pass doing this routine before you meander out of the house, no longer a home, to the dock where you last saw Hakuren. You look out over the horizon, dark against the night sky, as if the ship might appear and he was just late. There are other ships docked there right now, bobbing gently over the water.

You clutch the letter in your fist, feeling the paper crumple between your fingers, and take a step over the dock, dropping into the inky depths.

Finally, in your sixth lifetime, you remember him. Some cosmic sense of mercy or sadism, you don’t know, but you’re eighteen and a servant for the Kou royal family. You don’t often see the royal family, especially the older princes, who lead foreign conquests as military generals. You hear stories of them; Crown Prince Hakuyuu’s valor and strategic genius, and Prince Hakuren’s bravery in the thick of battle and his ability to rally the men. The pair make a perfect team and an unbeatable duo, and with their father have conquered Gou and Kai under the Kou Empire.

You first see him at a celebratory meal, the Royal Family and members of other noble families gathered together. There are dancers and musicians there for entertainment, and the Emperor and his family sit at a raised pavillion, looking down at the other families and the festivities. You stand behind them, your sole purpose for the evening being refilling their cups when they need it. You keep your eyes low, head down, and stay quiet. 

You do well and keep yourself in check the entire night, until at one point when you’re filling Hakuren’s glass your eyes glance up, meeting his. The sudden onslaught of five new- old?-  lifetimes startles you enough you drop the pitcher, the porcelain shattering on the floor near where he’s seated.

He only halts in his staring when the sound of the glass hitting the floor resonates, jerking away in surprise before looking down at the shards and puddle of alcohol and then back at you. At this point though, your focus is no longer on him- rather, your wide eyed fear is directed at the rest of his family and the nearby nobles who had heard the commotion over the music. Quick to react, Hakuren brushes the incident off.

“I bumped into her, it’s not her fault.”

Prince Hakuyuu and Princess Hakuei, directly across from him, both send him looks as if they know he’s lying, but don’t say anything. His parents buy it, which is what counts, and young Prince Hakuryuu just seems puzzled at the sudden tension.

“Clean this up and go get another pitcher, quickly.” His father orders. To your credit, you compose yourself rather quickly after you’re addressed, bowing low towards his father.

“Yes, your majesty.” You said, before kneeling and setting to work picking up the shards. Hakuren worries you might cut your hands. 

You mop up the spill with a rag another servant brings over before depositing the porcelain in the center of the cloth and rushing out with it. He watches from the corner of his eye as you rush out of the room to get more drink. He’s anxious for the ceremony to be over- he’s certain you remember this time. Why else would you look so shocked? How long have you been right under his nose, in his home? He wonders to pass the time.

The rest of the night goes uneventfully, save for Hakuren getting more tipsy then planned so you’ll come over to fill his cup, close enough that he could reach out and touch you, if he wanted- but he can’t do that here, so he’ll take what he can get: proximity. His unusually exuberant drinking raises some eyebrows among his family members, but again, nobody questions.

When the celebration ends and the Royal Family and officials have excused themselves, the servants stay behind to clean. You spend nearly an hour bringing dishes to the kitchens to wash, cleaning spills, and cleaning the floors. As servants start filtering out, you stay behind longer for a scolding as an older woman reprimands you for dropping the pitcher. She makes sure you understand how generous Prince Hakuren was to take responsibility for something that could have gotten you fired and kicked off of the palace grounds, if not worse. You’re the last to leave for bed, and by the time you do you just want to sleep the day off.

You’re not expecting the hand that wraps around your arm, pulling you into a shadowed hall and holding you against a solid chest. You’re about to scream when another hand covers your mouth.

“Don’t scream, it’s me.” You know immediately it’s Hakuren and you fluster, pulling away to bow in front of him.

“I can’t thank you enough for earlier, you have my eternal gratitude.” He is silent for a moment, but you don’t move until he places his hands on your shoulders and rights you, looking you in the eye.

“I remember you, and I know you remember me this time.” He tells you. Your lips part in surprise and you gaze up at him, his eyes intense and searching your face for any hint of reaction.

“It took longer than expected, but I came back after all.” A crooked smile, and your eyes well up with tears. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as he returns your embrace. Your breaths are heavy with the effort it takes to restrain your tears.

“I missed you,” you choked, “I didn’t know what to do with myself with you gone.”

“I’m here now.” He reassures.

The two of you hide in the shadows as you catch up. You tell each other about your current lives, fill in details from what you missed of each other in your last ones. He holds you tighter as you recount the end of your last life, taking a sharp intake of breath and muttering to himself as his eyebrows furrow.

“The surprise I mentioned,” he begins, ”in the letter. I wanted to propose. I had bought a ring while in Reim.”

You want to cry again.

When it’s time to leave each other neither of you want to, but you can’t risk being seen alone together, especially when neither of you had returned to your quarters yet. As you part Hakuren kisses your forehead and then your hand, promising to make time for the two of you to see each other again.

The secret meetings made a smile touch your face, reminding you of sneaking away behind the backs of parents and spouses and coworkers like you once had, lifetimes ago. Despite the reminiscent quality though, you had a hard time believing this relationship wasn’t as doomed as the last ones, needing to hide your feelings lest someone forcibly put an end to your affair with the Kou prince. Even if you remained undiscovered, what was the end goal?

“I’ll never marry, if I can’t marry you,” Hakuren offers as a solution. “I’ve waited long enough to have you and I won’t compromise anymore.”

Did that really settle it, though? You sincerely hoped it would be enough.

The tension in the palace grew thicker by the day, and you joked you worried about Hakuren sprouting grey hairs in an attempt to ease his mind. He and Prince Hakuyuu trusted each other implicitly, and he was acting advisor to his older brother. You had a suspicion that role was becoming more perilous and stressful by the day.

Hakuren became more protective of you, as well, warning you to be even more careful answering any questions pertaining to the Royal Family, particularly he and his older brother and their mother.

“And let me know who asks, if they do. If you happen to hear any gossip, no matter how outrageous, tell me that as well.” His request put you on edge more than anything else. You racked your brain trying to figure out what precisely was going on, but all you could manage to glean was someone was plotting something, but you didn’t know who or what. You could only pray Hakuren would be alright.

He made more time for you recently as well, to the point you felt he didn’t take any time for himself. Even sleeping, he insisted you be there.

“I can’t rest if you’re not with me anymore.” He explained to you. You pursed your lips at his reply. 

 He was laid with his head in your lap as you rubbed his temples at that very moment. Seeing how bloodshot his eyes were before he shut them made you wish he would just sleep for a few hours. Surely he could be spared that long? Was this threat looming so close he was afraid to even close his eyes?

“I fear for your safety. I have nightmares of these dangers finding you. I wish I knew somewhere away from everything going on I could send you, but I don’t trust anyone anymore outside of my siblings.”

This was the first time you had heard Hakuren so at a loss. He was well known for his intelligence and cleverness and severity in facing any threat. You could tell he could sense your concern, because his eyes opened and he smiled up at you.

“Don’t worry yourself over it. Hakuyuu and I will figure something out. I’ll keep you safe above all else.”

“I’m worried about you, my love. You’re in the thick of it.” You said. He grabbed one of your hands and shut his eyes again at you admission.

“I’ll be fine as long as I can keep you, my family, and the empire safe.”

You leaned down to kiss his forehead but your fears hadn’t abated.

You slept within your quarters less and less now, and people were beginning to notice your particular closeness with Hakuren. It wasn’t unusual for a prince to use a pretty servant to warm his bed, but it was unusual when it was nightly and monogamous. Other servant girls began questioning you directly about your relationship with the prince, their curiosity overtaking any hesitation they may feel. No matter how they pleaded for details though, you only answered in one way.

“I will be there for the prince in whatever way he needs me.”

They never left entirely appeased with that answer, as it didn’t answer any of their questions nor did it raise any more. You told Hakuren of their inquisitiveness in the gardens one day, and he only nodded.

“Why have you become so open about this? What changed?” You asked.

“We were spotted a long time ago, I believe. That’s why I’ve been keeping you close to me more often- I’m afraid someone might try to use you against me and I can’t protect you any other way.” His tone was somber as he explained this and you felt your blood run cold. So you were a target? Someone wanted to hurt Hakuren in that way?

He pulled you closer to him on the bench you two were seated on and held you tight to his side, tilting his face into your hair and breathing you in.

“I’m afraid this might be something that can’t be stopped.”

The night you woke up to the sound of fire cracking you felt as if all of your fears had come crashing down on you at once. Your first thought was of Hakuren, how this could be the culmination of what he had been trying to prevent. Looking around you, you found that he wasn’t even in the room. Your only accompaniment was the smoke steadily building up, filling your lungs and causing you to choke.

You lept from the bed, running desperately to the door and sliding it open in an attempt to escape. You knew Hakuren was still inside, he never would have left the building without you, but you didn’t even know where he could have gone. You held your breath as you moved towards the way out, searching for any sign of your lover as you went. The only thing you managed to stumble upon was Prince Hakuryuu, burned, covered in blood, and pink tear tracks left in the soot covering his face.

“My prince,” you called, “are you alright? Where are your brothers?”

This only seemed to upset him, tears building in his eyes again and leaking down his face. You knew what that meant, but now wasn’t the time to think about it.

“Let’s go, we have to leave now.” You urged, ushering him ahead of you as you left the burning palace.

Your chest tightened thinking of Hakuren in there, even if poor little Prince Hakuryuu had all but told of his demise. Even in death, you couldn’t stomach the thought of not being able to see him, hold him, tell him goodbye and that you loved him for the last time. Your only consolation was knowing that you two have done this six lives over, and eventually you will get to meet, fall in love with, and hope for a happy ending again with the man your very soul sings for for a seventh time.

You interrupted you melancholic internal musings and looked at Prince Hakuryuu standing nearby a tearful Princess Hakuei and strangely mild faced Empress Gyokuen. For now, you needed to keep an eye on what Hakuren had left behind and keep them safe the way he would have

Maybe your happy ending would come next time.

A/N: this has been sitting in my head for months and took way too long. it’s 6:30 am and I am so tired

[samwrights]

Plastic Flowers [ 1 ]

Chapter 1: Wrong From Right

Warnings: Language

One would think that the world being populated with billions of people, a concept such as a Soulmate would not exist. It seemed absurd that every one person belonged with another—separated by fate and destined to find each other once again. But sure enough, each person was born with a destined partner, their first words that their soulmate ever speaks to them being imprinted somewhere upon their bodies. It has been a fact since the dawn of time, taught in history classes across continents. More often than not these words are never romantic, but are truly indicative of an individual. One would think the world would be a peaceful place with such a system in tact.

However, the world is not black or white nor is it simple enough to simply be at peace; the world is filled with various shades of gray. As many grow up, it seems that we tend to lose sight of that knowledge—especially in a world filled with Heroes and Villains and Soulmates. It was easy to forget that Heroes had their own personal lives filled with love, laughter, regret, and conflict, all the while trying to find their one destined person. It was even easier to forget that villains were more than destructive bastards that only wanted to do bad, and they too had a personal agenda to find their one true love. And, while volatile destruction seemed to be the only goal for the League of Villains, it wasn’t the endgame for all of them. If anything, most villains wanted the same things most people wanted—financial security, status and power, and to find their soulmate. In some scenarios, villains that weren’t associated with the League of Villains didn’t even realize that they were on the same side, often downplaying their crimes in comparison.

I did it for my love.

I did it because I deserve better.

I did it to survive.

Minus the dedicated search for her soulmate, such was the case for Hitoko Ohta—a thought to be quirkless orphan that ran away that used her quirk that manifested later in life to escape being put back into the system. The discovery of her quirk was not as eventful as most, for she learned in her early tween years that she was able to control inanimate objects through her days of playing with dolls. Hitoko often imagined different voices and scenarios when playing with her dolls, unknowingly bringing her imagination to life as she got older. The dolls would move without her hand holding them up, and even began to have voices of their own. Eventually they began to adopt human features such as various hair textures and even eye colors. But when it came to the orphanage checking on their inhabitants and their quirks, Hitoko’s mind would shut off along with her quirk—successfully fooling everyone into believing she was quirkless.

Why she didn’t want the headmaster of the orphanage knowing she did indeed have a quirk, nobody knew. Not even Hitoko herself. All she knew for certain was that she didn’t want to be a hero. Stupid heroes—it was all their fault that she was an orphan. If stupid heroes would have saved her parents from their burning office building when she was a toddler, Mr. and Mrs. Ohta would have still been alive. But that wasn’t what life had planned for her, she used to think, while she was trapped in The Exemplary Home for Girls, manifesting her quirk in quiet day by day until she had complete control over it.

It seemed life had so many other things planned for her, she remembers thinking the moment her Soulmate mark appeared on her body. Everyone in the orphanage remembered that day. At only ten years old, Hitoko felt the searing pain on the flesh of her right forearm as she was branded with the first words her soulmate would ever say to her—I will fucking kill you, bitch. It didn’t take very long to figure out that she was most likely going to end up with a villain which, in turn, caused the inhabitants of the Exemplary Home for Girls to shun Hitoko and keep their distance from her. With the young orphan’s obvious distaste for heroes, they too thought she would become a villain. It was almost a relief that Hitoko lacked a quirk, to the orphanage’s knowledge anyway. Maybe they still had time to lead her into a path of good.

It had taken several years for Hitoko to have a complete grasp on her powers—graduating from dolls to stuffed animals, up to mannequins she had found in the attic of the EHG. By the age of fifteen, Hitoko was able to make mannequins look like real humans, and was able to will them to do her bidding with only her mind. After perfecting her power, she decided to test out the extent of her quirk by controlling a mannequin to attempt to adopt her. She still remembers clear as day as she tricked the headmaster into letting her leave.

“Her? Are you sure? We have many promising young girls, many of them talented enough to get into UA.” The headmistress, Lady Shougi, said in earnest to Hitoko’s lifelike mannequin. So far so good, the headmistress didn’t seem to suspect anything suspicious. Though, she would be surprised if she did. The mannequin took on the form of an average forty year old woman, brunette and starting to show the slightest signs of aging with slightly graying hair and prominent crows feet thanks to Hitoko’s quirk.

“All the more reason. I myself am quirkless, it would be wonderful to have a daughter to share a normal life with.” The pseudo-human responded.

“I understand.” Lady Shougi replied, not exactly happy that of all of her girls to be chosen to be adopted, it was the one quirkless girl she had and not one of the pride and joys she had been harnessing. “I suppose I must disclose this before we fill out the papers.” The head mistress said in one last attempt to get the doll to adopt a different, more suitable child. “Hitoko has had some...issues with potential families. Most likely due to the fact that her Soulmate seems to be with a potential villain, and whomever it is plans on killing her. Not many families could deal with the potential heartbreak of their daughter getting murdered by their soulmate.” The mannequin stayed quiet, due to the lack of command coming from Hitoko. Her heart shattered as she listened to the headmaster speak.

“T-that’s alright.” The doll finally said. “She deserves a shot at a normal life, regardless if she is quirkless or a villains mate.” The headmistress sighed in defeat.

“Ohta, could you come here dear?” Knowing that all of the young ladies in the orphanage gathered outside of her office when there was a potential adoption. Pretending to show slight concern as if she were in trouble, the young teen stepped into the headmistress’ office.

“You called for me?” Hitoko asked politely, looking at her mannequin before looking to her primary caretaker with faux wide eyes behind her large, black rimmed glasses.

“It seems someone has shown interest in adopting you.” From there, the rest was a breeze. Hitoko manipulated the mannequin into being a gushing, doting mother and ready to sign off on her paper work right away. Crazy how the head mistress never caught on, even as Hitoko walked out hand in hand with her creation that ended up disappearing as soon as they were out of sight.

Despite not having the slightest clue as to what to do or how to survive on her own with her newfound freedom, Hitoko was glad to be free of that prison she was forced to call home. But her elation was quickly deflated when she came to realize she had no money, no food, no shelter—she had no way of living in the real world. All Hitoko had was herself and her stupid quirk that could control inanimate objects, something she thought to be useless in the real world—in any world.

Rather than it being useless, her quirk was the only thing she had that contributed to her survival.

That was ten years ago. In present day, Hitoko stood in the solitude of her apartment located above the business she had built—a coffee shop and bar, aptly named The Upside Down, open damn near twenty four hours, closed only Sunday and Monday, that was entirely run by her. Not that anybody knew that she was always the one working, thanks to the use of her quirk. As far as anyone was concerned, Hitoko just hired an amazing team of social butterflies that knew how to get the job done. Nobody needed to know it was just Hitoko controlling a bunch of mannequins she had stolen from department stores. To keep up the ruse, she made sure to rotate between dolls, making sure that their schedules were as realistic as possible.

It was currently a late Friday night, or rather a very early Saturday morning. As per usual, Hitoko was running the bar by herself, giving her quirk a rest and only using it when she needed a hand. Building her business from the ground up, Hitoko recognized many of the faces that entered her space and all of them knew her. Or rather, they thought they did. Many of her patrons thought her to be an innocent, yet foul mouthed, sassy young woman. They didn’t know the secrets she buried.

Business was steady, Hitoko notes, as she wipes down the bar where her regulars sat while teetering between the decision to go home or continue being served way past the legal limit. Despite it being Friday, The Upside Down was a much quieter space than many other bars in the downtown area, most likely due to it not being as hip of a dive bar as others, or the lack of uppity music. Just a handful of regulars, a couple new faces hanging out on the bars prized possession—a brand new Snooker pool table made of mahogany wood with fresh black felt. The table was accompanied by her own personal cues that she donated to the bar. The whole set was her pride and joy as well as her newest addition to her space. Hitoko was very thankful not many of her patrons new enough about pool to realize that the table was nearly fifteen thousand American dollars. Instead she would wager with her patrons, betting bar tabs if she could beat them, telling them to come back tomorrow if she won. It was the way Hitoko wanted things—nice and chill.

It was the way she wanted things, but you don’t always get what you want.

Why had he agreed to any of this? Despite finally growing out of his grumpy behavior at the age of twenty five, Katsuki Bakugo still despised prolonged social interaction that wasn’t related to his pro-hero career.

“We’re on call, dude. And we’re close enough to downtown that if anything happens, we can be there in a flash.” Kirishima said to convince him to come out. Bakugo initially agreed with hesitation, but he absolutely would have refused his best friend if he had found out he had also invited Deku.

“So why did you have to invite him?” Katsuki snarls.

“I invited everyone we graduated with! I thought it would be nice for all of us to get together.” A click of his tongue left Katsuki‘s lips, but resigned from further comment as he took his turn playing pool against Kirishima.

“I think it’s nice that we’re all together!” Izuku chimes in after declaring he wanted to take on the winner. In response, the blonde bomber just rolled his eyes as he potted the eight ball. Even though he won, Katsuki couldn’t just place his sour mood on anything and could only think Deku’s presence was to blame.

“Drinks on you, idiot.” Katsuki jeered to Red Riot, clapping him on the back out of good sportsmanship. Immediately, the blonde’s features turned into a scowl as he watched Deku rack. Kirishima has disappeared to get them all another round. Katsuki broke, the white cue ball flying off the table and shattering the glass wall separating the Upside Down’s espresso machine and customer area. Slight embarrassment flooded Katsuki’s veins—he never table scratched like that. Stupid Deku must have racked too loosely, there was no way he could have scratched intentionally. “Fucking Deku, you couldn’t have made sure that all the balls were at least touching each other?!”

“K-Kacchan, I did—“

“We all know you like seeing balls touch so why is it so fucking hard for you to do a proper rack?” By now, Kirishima has come back with a tray of beers for everybody, his heart stopped when he saw all the shattered glass. Dammit, he was a regular here! He didn’t want to piss off the owner! To make matters even worse, his stupid hot headed best friend was screaming at the number one hero, loud enough to draw in all the patrons attention.

“Hey, Bakubro, cool it.” Eijiro tried to interfere, but in turn only upset the blonde more.

“Shut it, shitheads.” Katsuki snarled, throwing the pool cue on the table out of anger and unintentionally detonating a bomb. The blast was the final straw, alerting the owner that something was going on. No, the breaking of glass didn’t quite cut it—it was a pretty common noise in a bar. However, the sound of wood cracking, pool balls hitting both the ground and shattering even more glass, and the sound of rushing water is what alerted the owner.

The brunette woman behind the counter looked over, seeing the yellow nine ball on the floor just behind her espresso machine—the machine brandished with a new dent and water shooting out of the drain tub. Hitoko’s mind went blank as she watched the water beginning to pool on her now shattered cheap tile. Seeing the ball on the floor prompted her to check out her prized possession, though she wished she hadn’t. Hitoko hoped she was dreaming and that she didn’t just see her fifteen thousand dollar table in pieces. Three men stood around the table like guilty knights, though one had her back to her. Only knowing one of them, Hitoko could only blame him.

“Eijiro!” The brunette snapped, stomping her way from behind the bar and making her way over. It was reality. Her baby was shattered into a million pieces. “What the fuck, dude!”

“I-I’m so sorry, Kohta! H-he didn’t mean to—!” Hitoko cut him off sharply despite the use of her nickname as a sign of familiarity. Eijiro had gone white, frightful of the temper of the cafe owner. Deku too looked terrified, he never did well when people besides Kacchan were angry with him.

“I am so sorry, ma’am—“ The green haired hero started.

“Get out.” She bit.

“W-wha—“ As Deku stuttered Bakugo had finally turned to look at the now red faced owner. Hitoko was seething, and he knew it was his fault. However, in his typical fashion, his bad mood refused to take responsibility of his actions.

“You heard me. Get the fuck out, I never want to see you in here ever again.” The entire time, the brunette’s soft violet eyes were burning with fierce intensity focused on the blonde bomber—staring right through him from behind her glasses. As if she could see his soul, or could feel the fire that was now burning inside of Bakugo. His arm was throbbing with a dull, warm sensation. It was how he imagined it felt to get a tattoo on his left forearm, but he elected to ignore it. Instead, still fueled from his anger, Bakugo began yelling at the young woman.

“I’ll fucking kill you, bitch!” Eijiro stepped in, grasping the number two hero’s shoulder.

“Dude, don’t.” Eijiro knew what type of temperament the young brunette held due to handling unruly bar guests, often comparing her to his best friend in his own mind. But none of that mattered to Hitoko. The minute the words left the blonde’s lips, her arm too began to burn. The buzz of a fresh tattoo in progress was putting it mildly. Her arm felt like she was on fire, and while she had the slightest hint as to why, she didn’t want to acknowledge it right this second.

“Everyone out!” Hitoko boomed, making all of her regulars turn to face the usually warm and welcoming woman. “Tabs on me tonight, I have to close due to a pipe burst.” It seemed her tone had calmed slightly, maybe it was only because she was speaking to those that didn’t just wreck her bar. The three heroes on call shuffled to follow out the small crowd until the woman stopped them. “Oh no, you stay.”

“You just told us to get the fuck out!” Bakugo yelled, getting in the brunette’s face with a finger pointed at her. She was shorter than him, not by much, but still he towered over her by a whole head even as he slouched. With a hard look, her violet eyes glared at him through her glasses before she reached up and grabbed his wrist. The burn in her arm pulsed further at the contact, reminding her the truth the two had just uncovered.

“You and I have business to discuss.” Hitoko chided.

“What business could we possibly have after you just told me to get the fuck out?!” By now, the bar had cleared out except for Kirishima, Midoriya, and Bakugo. Pausing before she spoke, Hitoko rolled up the sleeves of her arms revealing many tattoos on both of them, except for her right forearm that was clearly brandished and raised with a simple phrase—I will kill you, bitch. The letters were jagged and rough, matching the tone of Katsuki.

“You’re my soulmate, ass.”

Between the four of them was a thick silence full of tension. “Kacchan, she’s your soulmate!” Deku cheered in excitement for his childhood friend. Thus far, he was the only one who dared to speak while Katsuki’s emotions began muddling in his anger. Kirishima was dumbfounded. He had found this place months ago and started hanging around quite often; Eijiro never would have considered this girl to be his best friend’s soulmate.

“Tch, yeah right.” He sneered before looking at the brunette. There’s no way, he decided, continuing to ignore the burning in his arm opposite to hers where his mark resides. There was no way this little five foot something chick was his soulmate. She was so plain to him. Dark brown wavy hair, dull purple eyes, large lens glasses with thick black frames? Maybe her only interesting trait was the ink littering her skin. But no. No way. He’d always imagined his soulmate would be some crazy firecracker that wanted to be in the spotlight as much as he did, not this old hag in a young woman’s body.

With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed his left wrist, flipping it over to reveal his soulmate mark. Sure enough, the once black script had faded to white, signifying he had met his soulmate, the elegant lettering forming such a brash statement—I never want to see you in here ever again. Hitoko never considered those would be her first words to whom was supposed to be her life partner. Her violet eyes stared at the mark blankly as she read the words over and over. It was a little too long for Bakugo’s liking, yet he didn’t yank it away from her.

Finally tearing herself away from touching him, Hitoko let out a gentle sigh as she pushed her large glasses back over the bridge of her nose. “W-we should get going, right Eijiro?” Deku says softly to Red Riot, hoping the other two didn’t hear. Kirishima responds with a soft nod before attempting to excuse the two of them.

“Uh, duty calls!” His blatant lie was too obvious to Katsuki and Hitoko, but neither of them said anything to keep the other two heroes as they made their lackluster escape. They were alone now, each of them entirely captivated with their own thoughts.

Hitoko spent years of her life wishing she would never have to meet her soulmate. When she was a child and still in the Exemplary Home for Girls, it was because she shared the fears of her peers—fears that her soulmate was a villain. But as she grew, the desire to meet her partner, or lack thereof, was due to her own personal greed. She had her business, her clientele, her life; all things she had done by herself. Hitoko didn’t need anyone else—soulmate or otherwise.

Katsuki was, on the other hand, entirely fearful of what was to come after this, knowing full well he never wanted to find his predetermined life partner. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he had always feared that his soulmate would meet him and despise him. Whether out of disappointment or disgust, it didn’t matter to him; it was the very reason he wanted to be the best at everything. If he were the best at everything, there’s no way his soulmate would hate him. But now that they had finally met, Katsuki couldn’t help but feel like he had been the one disappointed. He wanted someone as vivacious and determined as he was, and this girl just seemed to be the opposite. It reaffirmed his apprehension of the next step even further—he was afraid of establishing their soul bond.

As many have learned through generations, the next step in the process after meeting one’s soulmate was to establish a bond. History had taught civilizations what happens when a bond is left untouched, humanity begins to crumble, wars are waged, and varying calamities strike the land. Unpaired souls begin to weaken and, with quirks eventually joining the normality of the world, quirks ran rampant. A rumor existed that a bond that never established was the very reason the original wielders of One for All and All for One ended up becoming archenemies, eventually creating the massive rift in humanity and birthing the classes of Heroes and Villains.

Bakugo feared he would lose all control over his quirk or even worse, lose his quirk all together.

He feared he would no longer be the best.

“So now what?” Katsuki grit out from behind his teeth. His crimson eyes cast a slightly downward glance, holding a stern gaze with the brunette. Though he would never admit it, whatever response came from her mouth made him anxious.

“What do you mean?” Hitoko drawled sarcastically. “Now, I need to clean up, shut off my water, and assess all the damage you caused.”

“I meant about our marks, idiot!” By now, the brunette was no longer holding eye contact with him and, instead, was picking up the loose pool balls spread across the floor. The entire time, she remained quiet, making Bakugo angrier by the second. “If we don’t establish our bond, we could lose our quirks, and I will not let you be the reason that happens.” Venom dripped from each word, fueling the woman’s own temper.

“Good thing I don’t have a quirk then.” Hitoko bit back, still refusing to look at him as she lied. Bakugo’s presence was annoying her now. During her clean up, she missed the stupefied, dumbfounded look on his face. His soulmate was quirkless on top of everything else? No way. No fucking way! What malicious, omniscient being decided to play such a cruel prank on him? Out of all the billions of people in the world, he had to be matched up with a person who had nothing to lose from not solidifying their bond? Reality was a cold hard bitch.

“So because you have nothing to lose, you’re just gonna leave this alone?” Bakugo asked in disbelief.

“Obviously.” She drawled.“I’ve been doing just fine alone, then all of the sudden I meet my soulmate and he destroys my cafe and ends up setting me back almost a months worth of income?” Hitoko had finished collecting the rack and putting them in their holding tray, save for the yellow nine ball that was behind the bar. The tray now rested on the sugar bar where people could add fix ins to their coffee and she stomped up to her damned soulmate. “Do you think I’m even remotely concerned about our stupid fucking arrangement right now?”

For once, Bakugo remained quiet, but not to seethe. Had he been his younger self, he absolutely would have retaliated without thinking—calling her names and pointing out her selfishness. A part of growing up for him meant that he finally learned to listen more before speaking. “I didn’t mean to break your shit.” Bakugo says quietly, beginning to pick up the larger pieces of broken wood and felt from the wrecked Snooker table.

“I understand that,” Hitoko responds. “That doesn’t mean that you didn’t financially set me back by a shit ton. I’m probably out close to fifty thousand dollars now.” Bakugo’s eyes widened—how much destruction did he cause?! His mind was reeling; his soulmate was quirkless and he had just ruined half of her bar, her livelihood, and potentially her only source of income. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt the slightest bit guilty. With his anger subsided, all Bakugo felt was a bit of shame mixed with culpability and confusion. Interrupted by the buzzing of his pager, the blonde looked to the woman once again who was slaving away with a broom and dustpan in hand.

“I gotta go.” He says abruptly, to which Hitoko only shrugs.

“That’s fine, I don’t need your help anyways.” She hadn’t meant for the words to come out as harshly as they did, but paid it no mind. In truth, she didn’t care nearly as much as she probably should have. There were more pressing matters at hand; she was going to need to purchase a new espresso machine, replace the glass he shattered, eventually order a new pool table, fix the pipe burst—The Upside Down was going to need to remain empty and closed for a little. Hitoko’s mind was reeling with concern as to how she was going to acquire what she needed, while Bakugo could only sneer at the woman.

“Tch,” He grunts. “Whatever. I didn’t want to help you anyway.” Without another word, Bakugo storms out, leaving the owner of the bar to her own devices. It wasn’t until he heard the lock of the door click behind him until he realized she never told him her name. Remembering that Kirishima had said it, he realized he wasn’t even remotely paying attention. He felt pretty stupid.

Bakugo didn’t know his own soulmate’s name, and he was too afraid to ask his friend what it was.

Plastic Flowers Masterlist

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[whyralltheusernamestaken]

She panicked

Part 4 of “I feel safe with you”

Bakugou x fem!reader

Warning : No swearing

Words : 1187

Series Masterlist

A/N : Lowkey kinda changed her personality but oh well, just think of her being in her 'professional' mode lmao

Overpowered quirk cliche, r y'all ready for this cringe  

Hope you enjoy! 

"Pro hero number 49, Persephone."

Hearing her name, she lifted her head and slowly titled her head to the side, giving a small smile before asking, "Yes?" "You have been recommended into U.A. Academy by 3 different pro heroes." Her smile faltered slightly but she made sure to keep her tone polite. "And why is that sir? Surely if you have enough space for a extra student, you could provide that opportunity to another candidate." "Yes, but we are offering an outstanding candidate the opportunity to hone her skills further. This is not an extra space, as you have called it, but we can surely make things work." "I must be honest with you sir, I don't see the point." Taking a deep breath, she sat up straight before continuing. "Are you sure this is not simply because the other heroes who were on the mission with me feel guilty? Surely they have done enough with paying for the compensation fees for the window I broke during my unmannerly fall." Letting out a soft sigh, she fumbled with her fingernails, thumb pressing down sharply on the soft flesh of her palm. "The compensation was ought to be paid in due time, nothing to do with guilt, simply matters of rules. However you should think about this opportunity L/N, as you already know, the League of Villain's activity has been at it's prime and    by attending U.A. you will train and discover the potential of your quirk." "But sir, I'm a pro hero and I don't want to miss the chance of helping civilians during missions simply because I'm at school." "That is understandable, we've already spoken to your agency and they are free to give you missions during the school week." "Think about this L/N, you won't need to taken an entrance exam and on top of that, accommodation will be provided by the school." If she wasn't already convinced, the last point had certainly been the icing on the cake. "I suppose this is very beneficial for me. I guess I'll agree." she said, and with a curt nod she stood up. "I think it's best if you go to recovery girl and check on your quirk. Bakugou will show you the way" "Of course sir, thank you for your time." Stepping out of the office, Bakugou raised his eyebrow and she simply shrugged in response. "I guess I'm joining your school." "What? Which class?" he asked, recovering from a burst of shock. "Probably 1-a, I'm not sure though." she replied, tousling her hair. "Can you take me to Recovery girl, need to check up on some things." "Yeah sure." he grumbled, unsure about how to feel about her joining his class. ~~~ "Persephone dear, it's nice to see you." "Recovery girl. It's a pleasure to see you too." she greeted with a bow. "No need to be so formal dear." the older woman laughed. "So how have you been?" "Honestly, not too well." she sighed, sitting down and rubbing her forehead. "The recent villain attack took quite a toll." "Do you want me to contact Dr Takahashi?" She opened her mouth to reply before closing it, how on earth did the older know about her therapist? "It's alright." she replied, after taking a few moments to keep her composure. "I'll call her later." "Of course dear, so how is your quirk?" she asked, returning to why she assumed the girl had visited her office. "It's working like normal." the girl nodded, letting a small flower bloom in the palm of her hand. With a few clicks on Recovery girl's keyboard, the older woman looked up with a smile. "Well that's good. I'll get someone to bring you the school uniform, you'll most likely start tomorrow." "Thank you." With a smile and a small bow, she exited the room. "Where to next?" she asked the blonde, who looked up from his phone. "Back to dorms probably." he grumbled, sticking his hands in his pockets before walking in the direction of the dorms. She followed without a word, eyes flickering all around the school hallway, taking note of all of the lockers and classroom. It had at least been a good few months since she last went to a school for studying purposes. He stopped walking, causing her to crash into his back. "Why did you stop?" she asked, voice quiet compared to the surrounding noise of traffic. "Is this you?" he snapped. She looked down to look at his phone. 'Prodigy hero Persephone is said to be attending U.A.? Inside sources have provided that the young pro hero Persephone will be attending U.A. Academy as of next week. From previous interviews, the hero has expressed that she has no desire to attend any sort of hero school so why is it that suddenly she's enrolled in Japan's most famous hero school? Could it be to do with the unexplained periods of time in which she completely disappears from the public? We'll have to wait and find out!' Looking up, she pursed her lips. "They weren't supposed to find out so soon." she muttered, furrowing her brows. With a turn of her heel, she speed walked down the hallway, ignoring his shouts for her and returned back to the nurse's office. Standing in front of the door, she took several deep breaths before raising her fist and loudly pounding the wooden door. "Oh hello dear, something wrong?" Recovery girl greeted as the young hero stepped into the office. "Could you call Dr Takahashi?" she asked, wiping her sweaty palms against the long t-shirt she wore. "Of course dear, you can take a seat if you want." She complied, her mind racing to her fear of the public, of how they crowded excitedly at every opportunity possible. The negative thoughts pooled into her mind, drowning out the sounds of the nurses speaking to her therapist. Being a hero was a dream for many, whether it was for the recognition, the thrill of it or the money, it certainly was very rewarding. Yet what many in society were unable to comprehend was the utter lack of privacy the job had. Sure she had already considered these factors before she chose to become a hero, let alone a pro hero, however the following events that occurred near the start of her career debut had scarred her mentally. The thought of people recognising her had once thrilled her, her childhood dream had been to be a famous hero. She had sparkled at the idea of being in magazines and news articles, giggling joyfully at the concept of being a celebrity. Yet here her she was, a meagre article sending her into a state of panic. She squeezed her eyes shut, counting to ten slowly as she cursed at herself for her brittle mentality. It wasn't something she could control easily, she understood that, but what type of hero was she if she couldn't even stand a few whispers from the media. And there she sat, utterly powerless as her emotions flooded her. And so she sat there and 

she panicked.

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Taglist : @lostnliterature

[thebigreylotheory]

Belated TROS trailer reaction and thoughts

Painting.

Been doing lots of painting.  Rewatching TFA, TLJ, and Solo and painting.

Ok, wow, originally intended to have this up by May the 4th….but like I mentioned some posts ago, bantha poodoo happens. (Caps is the same :( )

It’s finally, finally time for my TROS trailer reaction, thoughts, and a few theories! (I don’t know about you, but I’m still not over how good it is. Say what you will, Star Wars has the best trailers.)

Breathing is very important to the sequel trilogy. (I would say that Rey that is totally going to be ahead of the game for Lamaze class if we get a sequel-sequel trilogy/book/comic baby some galaxy far far away day.)

I’ve wondered if the movie will take the time to explain how the Skywalker lightsaber has been repaired? My feeling is, sorta like ROTJ, it’ll just be there like Luke’s green lightsaber. So, you’ll either have to make up your own head canon OR we’ll eventually get books and comics for the time gap between TLJ and TROS that will explain exactly what Rey did. Since she’s a scavenger, and mechanically inclined around junk, my feeling right now is, it’s possible she might have gone on a journey for a new kyber crystal and she’s repurposed the hilt. Which I think could be symbolically interesting….almost saying she’s “her own person (crystal)” on the inside now, but externally carrying on the outward mantle of her teacher/master Luke.

Which leads me to: by now, you’ve probably heard the theory that the last name “Skywalker” might transform to a term for the henceforth new Jedi. Personally, I am a fan of this theory. I think it would be useful for keeping the Star Wars eras straight when referencing any potential future Star Wars films/books/comics. For example, instead of saying “post-Skywalker trilogies,” one could say this-or-that takes place during the Jedi era or the new Skywalker era, etc (as well as, hopefully, the Knights of the Old Republic era someday soon).

AND, if Rey dubs herself (and perhaps any future students she has) a Skywalker….then, well, oddly enough, it would fulfill the whole Rey is a Skywalker discussion in the most interesting way possible. (While also keeping the plot open for her to choose whomever *coughcough* Ben Solo *coughcough* she would like to romantically be with someday.) It could potentially mean anyone could be a Skywalker. I’m a Skywalker. You’re a Skywalker. We’re Skywalker. Sign me up.

Luke is everybody’s spiritual father. (And I guess Vader is everybody’s grandfather??)

And, on a kinda odd note, being a Caravan-of-Courage-baby and a long-time SW fan, thinking of the name Skywalker, does anyone else think it sounds like a talent? Or is my brain just connecting Moonwalking with Skywalking? I guess, technically, Rey isn’t Skywalking here, right? It’s more like Skyjumping? Skyflipping? Maybe she’s really a Skyflipper. Part dolphin.

But I slightly digress, back to the trailer.

When this scene hit, I initially thought, from a distance, the TIE was a TIE bomber. Haha, silly me. 

I have fond memories of the TIE bomber toys Revan/Devan had as a kid.

Yay, Lawrence of Arabia will be returning to theaters Sept. 1st and 4th, presented by TCM! I did a middle school history report over Lawrence. Mostly because I wanted to learn about desert warfare so I could write better Star Wars fan fiction. It’s all about Star Wars, people. It always has been.

Now, that’s what I call TIE racing!

Sweet butter tacos, by now I have paused these scenes over and over trying to decide if this is Kylo Ren and/or if the scenes match or they’ve been sliced much like the TLJ trailer. 

HAHA. You trailer editor people are so good. You did it just enough to make me crazy until December. THANKS.

But, I guess it’s safe to say, in this sequel trilogy, when the camera zooms to black gloves, it’s probably Kylo.

Gee, these two just can’t flirt normally. It’s like they thought, “Oh what can we do on our date that hasn’t been done before?” “Oh, I know, let’s play chicken with the TIE Fighter!”

No, in all seriousness, as it’s been said before many times now, this would be a really strange way to try to take Rey out…

Wouldn’t Kylo be a man and just face her? He hasn’t been afraid to face people before.

And, I don’t know…some people I know are hoping that they are working together somehow, which I hope they are, don’t get me wrong,…but at the moment, I just can’t think of why Rey would need to jump on a TIE Fighter/Kylo’s TIE. (Mind out of the gutter!) I mean, if they are working together, practicing even, for some Force trick/feat that needs doing to destroy or infiltrate something, it looks like she could have climbed on the TIE before it took off?

I mean the Interwebs might tell you that she needs to practice her jumping so she can have the high ground later, but I still don’t know.

It could be a dream/vision. Simple enough.

It could be that ForceTime is acting really weird?

Did we really understand or have all the rules of ForceTime in TLJ? Could it be if ForceTime connects and Rey and Kylo hold-on to another they can pull each other to a different location? So for instance, if Rey jumps on the TIE she could be transported to where Kylo is?

That would mean there was a reason Luke told them to stop. Did he know either Kylo would be pulled to Ahch-To in the flesh or Rey would end up at the First Order (before she totally left in the Falcon for the First Order)?

Dunno. That could be getting too “beam-me-up-Scotty” or too “magical” for SW. We’ll see. I’m open to most things so long as they’re done well.

Alternatively, because Caps and I have also been reading SW comics for a few years now, I think it’s also possible that Kylo could be possessed here. 

As in, someone:

Like monkey-hands here, or whomever monkey-hands works for (Palps, Hux, The Resistance, KOR), took Kylo’s helmet and added Sith-y stuff to it.

I want to lean towards the idea of an enemy/frenemy of Kylo’s changing his helmet. I thought it was a little unusual that Kylo would go back to wearing the helmet after smashing it. I mean, character-wise, I figured it would remind him of Snoke’s taunts. It seemed like a step backward. Like going back to a security blanket after you’ve gotten over needing it. Dunno, are they going to capture him and force him to wear it? Making him Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs to get him out of the way?

BUT, there again, I guess, I could stretch my imagination and believe that Kylo, might, might, go back to wearing his helmet on his own, if he thought there was some power or knowledge to be gained. And, either, earnestly, he did it to himself or it was a TRAP!

And possibly, in this scene, possessed Kylo is about to crash wherever Rey is, but she saves him by cutting open the hatch, etc? 

(She’s learned to lift rocks, but could she stop a TIE via the Force and climb in and save someone? Maybe, but it, arguably, wouldn’t look as cool or dramatic). And if that were the case, Kylo would be in some serious debt to Rey for saving his life. Girl already spared him once. Twice, if you count she didn’t run him through on Starkiller Base.

Anyways, back to reviewing the trailer chronologically.

Somehow this reminds me of the Lost City of Atlantis. Was there a city on Bespin below Cloud City? According to Wookiepedia Bespin is a cloudy place. Sooo, could be Lando’s entrance in the movie, possibly.

Did I read somewhere that Kylo is tackling a Knight of Ren here? (Double checked and yes.) That’s interesting. I could come up lots of out-of-the-hat-theories as to why. KOR turns against him. Kylo turns against KOR. KOR Civil War? KOR Battle Royale where the survivor of the Hunger Games gets to be Master?

But what’s really interesting, is the fact that Kylo doesn’t slice the guy in two pieces with the lightsaber.

And that, to me, also spawns some theories. Is the tackle just a cinematic scene to show Kylo’s strength? Maybe Disney doesn’t want to go “Darth Maul-ing” people in two pieces? Kylo, for some reason, isn’t killing people on this particular day or any more at all? Or Kylo’s in a super rush and is more focused on getting a certain location in a hurry and whatever, guy was in the way? It made me concerned, mmm, can’t Kylo use the Force in this scene? He isn’t Force Pushing or Freezing the guy?

This week on “This Old Helmet,” Norm and guys add detailing to a once dilapidated helmet. Yup, it was a real fixer-upper. If Mr. Monkey doesn’t work for some VIP, he’s a really strange janitor.

Ok, Finn and Poe are going to, canon, start a boy band in TROS, right? This is a scene from their KPOP-ish music video, right? “‘Cause I want it that way…” If they don’t dance, so help me Star Wars...I’ll make them in a fanvid.

To be honest, I’m not sure if I like D/O yet. The jury is still out for me. Mostly because I thought some of the other concept designs were much cuter. Although, I can’t wait to see the Droid Builders tackle this one. I’m still stuck on a mouse droid.

Aww, yeah, welcome back Lando! Mr. Smoothie! (I wish he’d been apart of TFA and TLJ, but better late than never.) I know, I know the ship should be Chewie’s now, but I secretly hope that Lando is able to donate money to restore the Falcon, like an old classic car. *coughcough* Reylo Wedding Gift *coughcough*

Hmm, moisture farm or temple? Guess we’ll see. I’m loving that the troops possibly have jetpacks and/or sand-speeders?

Dunno, after the whole Rambo C3P0 poster, I’m wondering if someone’s after C3P0 here? BB and R2 have had their “find-that-droid” day, maybe it’s C3P0’s turn?

Aww, the medal. Sweet medal. 

I can give you some out-of-the-hat ideas about this, too. Maybe this is Han’s. Maybe it’s in Leia’s collection of memories and she takes it out for nostalgia, to feel close to Han in spirit, or for the anniversary of his death. Maybe she’s decided to give it to someone else? Or, worst-case scenario, the Resistance needs gold and this is all they got left?

Or, this is Luke’s? And ditto on everything. Maybe Luke left it behind before he left for Ahch-To? Maybe he gave it back to Leia? Or maybe Leia and company find more of Luke’s belongings elsewhere? Maybe Luke was using it as a bookmark in one of the Jedi Texts?

Goodness. When the trailer hit Celebration, this scene filled my heart with the greatest bittersweet joy. 

I’m really glad that the extra/reworked footage of Carrie as Leia looks good. That it will uphold her legacy. It’s been on my mind ever since her passing.

In fact, I was so caught up in being happy that the footage looks great, at first, I didn’t stop to think why Leia and Rey are hugging?

And, at first, I was so vicariously being Rey while watching the trailer, hugging Leia with my own emotional fan tear, that I didn’t consider why is Rey crying?

Well, theory-wise it could be a number of things. Rey and Leia have really bonded, and maybe Rey’s about to go on a dangerous mission? Or the Resistance has had a major setback?

But, I think one of the biggest, most emotional, thing both Rey and Leia have in common is:

Yup. Benny Boy.

And, this thought/feeling opens up a whole new can.

Um, have they heard something about Kylo/Ben that’s upsetting? And, if so, would this scene take place early or late in the film? I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that Kylo/Ben might not be making it out of this one entirely. Dunno, to me, it almost feels like Rey’s upset that she’s failed at something. I guess, especially, because it’s extra/reworked footage of the reaction to Han’s death.

Again, with the band! It’s like a 90s Alternation Rock cover!

My question is: What is in Rey’s hand? Is it a bag? What’s in the bag? Is she carrying the Jedi text or some other special item? Is it a device? What sort of device?

Have they all been camping? ‘Cause Finn and Poe have bags, too. Do they got thermal detonators in there?

I’m assuming, since they look more angry/focused than shocked, that their on some sort of mission to find this broken piece of Death Star II? That their purpose is to go inside? Or destroy the rest of it? Either way, if I learned anything from Wind Waker, it doesn’t look like a good day for sailing towards it.

Now, in the split second when Luke says “no one’s ever really gone” again…I wanted to believe we were going to get a Force Ghost reveal. Or that possibly, the-Force-killed-Luke was just social media red herring.

I never dreamed that laugh….

Chilled me to the bone.

The biggest “oh Sh*$” moment of my movie trailer watching life.

 Ooo the possibilities. More thoughts on Emperor Palps’ return later.

Until then my Reylos and Star Wars friends, May The Force Be With You!

[saltysunberry]

NaNoReNo 2018: Luck and Key Progress Report 1 (March 11)

Ridge Luchesse: First Design

Hello everyone, Sunberry here. I have decided to make progress reports every Sunday leading up to the deadline of NaNoReNo 2018. It is fast approaching and I'm actually freaking out! Ahhh!

A little bit about me:  I am an animation and game design student in university, a huuuuge nerd, and for fun I draw fanart and write fanfics. This is one of my first official game projects. My love for games and passion to create keeps me going, so suddenly telling myself, "Hey, you're going to join a game jam this year, no takebacks!!" is super scary and exciting! 

Before I get into the interesting details of the game, a little professional Q&A is needed. Nothing heavy; it's a habit I simply have to get used to! :)

________________

PLAYTESTING Q&A v1

List your associated role for this week:

Sunberry: Initial ideas + story design

What tasks have been completed for this week? What tasks were incomplete and the reason for incompletion?

COMPLETE: For the first week of NaNoReNo, Sunberry was able to come up with a potential game pitch for the final product. Though not professionally documented, she has brainstormed and played around with many ideas, jotting them down visually and digitally. Sunberry has also begun with the rough script for the game, outlining potential scenes. A starting design and character profile for the protagonist has been compiled, as well as the names and personalities of the game’s side characters.

INCOMPLETE: This week’s schedule details the start of background art, completing the story in its entirety and programming the backbone for the final game file on Visual Novel Maker. However, due to her return to full-time university classes, Sunberry was unable to complete these tasks.

What playtesting has occurred as part of the process? What are the outcomes of playtesting?

Not much playtesting has been done yet, but the protagonist’s first design has been digitized. Sunberry has also created the game file on Visual Novel Maker using default assets.  

How do these outcomes impact the schedule for game development?

The schedule has indeed been compromised, but Sunberry is working as much as possible on her solo project while balancing her daily activities. Much time is needed to complete the story script in a few days so that it can be plugged into Visual Novel Maker. Once the story has been completed, the UI and art designs will be her top priority.

What (if any) has been changed about the game design and development concept/pitch?

Sunberry was initially going to design CG art for the first demo, but due to time constraints she will be abandoning this area of the game to focus on completing a playable story and choice-driven gameplay. The chapters have not yet been fully decided.

 What will be your task/s for next week and the resources you will use for playtesting?

Next week, Sunberry intends to finish the story script, begin UI design and fleshing out her characters.

Software used: Microsoft Word, Clip Studio Paint, Adobe Photoshop and Visual Novel Maker.

General comments on project progress:

With 20 days left, there is not much time to be ambitious. Sunberry is persevering to complete the most important aspects in accordance to her pitch.

 ____________________

My work ethic is pretty flimsy, and I've changed my mind plenty of times over the week about making a fully functioning game for this jam to a demo that I can work on improving in future months.  I've always been a "pitch now, clean it up later" person, so I can be pretty ambitious at the start, only to dwindle everything down to this *tiny* tidbit of an update before a deadline... 

Gwaah. I seriously hope to change that.

Nevertheless, this March is still a huge step forward. I've gotten my hands dirty and it's only fair to cover up the seed I've planted with soil, water it and watch it grow!

 ____________________

GAME/CHARACTER DESIGN PROGRESS

Luck and Key is a fantasy/adventure visual novel set in the fictional territory of Parzden. You play as Ridge Luchesse, the son of the Most Illustrious Highness of Parzden and imminent heir for the title of Marquess . I imagine him to be a loner and a reserved individual, so for a noble, he's not very heroic. Yet. Through the challenges he will be thrown into throughout the story, there is plenty of room for him to grow. But whichever path he takes to discover his own potential is up to you!

So far, I'm undecided with my chapters, and my outline has yet to be done. There's a whole lot of lore in the background that I'm still mulling over, but I'm working studiously to make it worth checking out once I've released my game demo. I also have three side characters whose profiles I've yet to create, and you'll meet them very soon.  I intend for these characters to offer vital support to the protagonist, but they each have their own perks and personalities! 

I couldn't help starting a character design page on my sketchbook, so here's a scan of my hair design progress. It's so messy XD

Next week, I want to sink my teeth into Visual Novel Maker and begin UI practice. Even if it's just a tiny demo, I really do want to put something forward for NaNoReNo 2018! I can't wait to keep growing as a game designer!

[onceuponanolicity]

Hello, everyone. I’m still out on vacation and I am loving it. It feels nice to get out and rest up. However, I had wanted to send this out to all of you as a Halloween gift before I left and I never had the chance. Today I did, so here it is. A special Halloween one-shot. I will be trying to have a Thanksgiving one for next month and a Christmas/Chanakuh one for December.

A Halloween one-shot. Halloween brings a lot of parties to college campuses. It also allows Oliver Queen to meet Gothic Felicity Smoak. Now they need to see if they can make it together despite all the differences between them. 

           College parties. Felicity hated them. Halloween parties were even worse. It gave everyone leave to hide behind their masks and act as inappropriately as possible.

           “Who are you, sweet cheeks?”

           Felicity turned to find a brilliant genius of a frat boy standing next to her. And she was being beyond sarcastic with that assessment. He was dressed as a Roman. Wow. She had never seen that before. Not. Felicity rolled her eyes at the concept that one of these boys might actually use their brain. “Elvira.”

           The guy made a motion to her chest. “Doesn’t she show more cleavage?”

           “That’s my mother,” Felicity deadpanned. Though it was true. It was her mother who tended to dress more provocatively.

           “Oh.” For a moment the guy looked crestfallen. She had ruined his dreams. Too bad. But, the guy quickly recovered and looked around for another potential target. “Is she at the party?”

           Felicity sighed. Obviously this guy was further gone than he seemed. Did he really think her mother would be here? Sure, Felicity was younger than some of the other college kids, but that did not mean that her mother would be here. Though, if given the chance, Donna Smoak, certainly would have been. Felicity lifted a hand and pointed off to the far corner of the frat house where a group of kids were chugging beer. “Yeah. Over there.”

           The guy scurried away in search of the elusive Elvira while Felicity leaned back against the wall wondering why she even came here. She knew why. Her roommate insisted Felicity go so she could make out with her boyfriend in their dorm room. Felicity could only hope that her roommate cleaned down the place afterwards. The boyfriend was skanky.

           “Are you snarky with everyone or just frat boys?”

           Felicity found another male who invaded what she claimed as her own personal space. She opened her mouth to cut him down but her usual quick mind faltered. Felicity stood there and stared at the blonde guy. He was dressed simply in tight fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. James Dean. Only a mask covered half his face. It was supposed to be a masquerade party after all. Not that Felicity paid any mind to it. She had only arrived in her usual clothes and without a mask. Felicity only wore a mask if her Halloween costume called for it and since she was sans costume that meant no mask at all.

           “Cat catch your tongue?” he asked as a smile formed on his lips, making dimples appear under the black mask. He leaned forward slightly invading even more of her space and winked. “Too bad. I wanted a chance.”

           Another guy came forward. Felicity sighed. Did she have a magnet or something on her?

           Instead the guy barely paid her a bit of attention. He slapped James Dean on the back. This new guy was dressed in red scrubs. He had dark hair and was no less handsome than the other one. “What’s up? I just got here.”

           “Tommy.” James Dean perked up considerably. He nudged the new guy and gave him a bro hug. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

           Tommy shrugged and smiled. That’s when his attention caught on Felicity. This smile was different. Charming in a way that was meant to get exactly what he wanted. “I’m Tommy Merlyn.”

           The way he said his name it was like it should mean something. It didn’t, but she shook his extended hand anyway. “Hi.”

           The two guys stared at her expectantly. They were probably waiting for her to give them her name. They would be waiting a long time. She wasn’t here to make friends. Not that it mattered. She hardly came over to this campus much. Felicity was much more at MIT nearby where she attended classes.

           James Dean nodded down at her before addressing his friend. “That’s Elvira Jr. Or so she told the last guy who dared approach her.”

           Tommy frowned slightly. “That makes Elvira a MILF. Not exactly how I wanted to picture her.”

           “Thanks for that mental image,” Felicity said with a grimace. “I’ll never be able to fill my mind enough to cover that up.”

           “A nerdy Goth.” Tommy said with an ever bigger smile. A genuine one. He nudged his friend. “Good luck with this one.” Tommy nodded off to the side, Tommy took a step in that direction to try to see something. “I’m going to go hit up Rainbow Brite over there and see if she wants to dance.”

           James Dean glanced over at where his friend’s interest lie. He frowned. “I don’t think that’s Rainbow Brite.”

           “Ding Ding,” Felicity said waving a finger in the air. “One for the frat boy dressed as James Dean.”

           His eyes shot over to her. They felt like they penetrated right through her. It was disturbing and yet there was something about that look that had her body reacting on a primal level. “What do I win?”

           Felicity swallowed hard. She wished the wall wasn’t right behind her because she wanted desperately to back away from him. Not that he scared her. It was more like overwhelmed her, especially with that laser focus that he seemed to possess. “I… uh…”  

          He stepped forward so she had no choice but to flatten herself against the wall to maintain some space. He didn’t even allow her that. He only moved closer so that their hips were touching with each small movement. A hair’s breadth separated their chests and their breath mingled.

           She noticed his had a touch of mint to it. He must have just had a mint or brushed his teeth recently. Surprising because he looked like a guy who would have come here to drink.

           He raised his hand and with a very light touch his fingers brushed over her cheek before sweeping her black hair over her shoulder. Even Cooper Seldon, who she dated a few times now, did not make her feel so totally consumed by a single touch. If she wasn’t careful, she’d combust soon.

           Meeting his eyes, Felicity saw that he seemed confused by the fact that he felt the same. The playfulness of his nature had disappeared. Blue flames licked within his eyes. He raised his hand and leaned against the wall pushing himself slightly away from her. She watched as he closed his eyes under the black mask and shuddering breath escaped him.

           Felicity had no idea what compelled her. She raised a hand to lay it on his chest. He was solid muscle under her fingers. She was pretty sure under that shirt was a six pack to end all other six packs. So, why the hell was a guy like this even talking to her? Was it a joke? A bet? That would explain the last guy. Which frat kid could get the Goth girl to drop her panties? And, damn, if they didn’t send in their ringer.

           When his eyes opened, the blue was barely a ring around the darkness of the depths hidden there. His head dipped down and Felicity pushed up on the combat boots she wore to meet him halfway. The guy kissed like an angel. The Devil was an angel, right? Because this guy was temptation personified. It wasn’t fair.

           The guy’s free hand met her waist, his fingers biting deep into the flesh under the layers of clothes she wore. Felicity was sure by the strength of his grip that it was the only thing keeping him under control. She wished she could gather some of her own.

           Only she did not have to. The kiss ended fast enough when he jerked his lips from hers.

           “Fuck,” she heard him whisper as his forehead pressed into her own.

           Their breaths labored together as they stood there. Felicity was the first to open her eyes. When he managed to do the same they stared at each other.

           It was in that moment a bubbly blonde popped up next to them. She tugged at the guy’s arm. The one that still clenched her hip tight. “Ollie. I totally have to introduce you to my friend.”

           “Ollie.” Felicity rolled the name off of her tongue. It fit him and yet it didn’t. “Oliver.” That was much better.

           By the way his eyes flared, he agreed. He looked desperate to kiss her again. The blonde had other plans. Oliver gave in to her tugs and straightened from his leaning pose over Felicity. However, their eyes never broke contact. Not even for a second. “I’m coming back.”

           It was a promise. Felicity felt it right down to her bones. Which was the exact reason why she ran the second he disappeared into the crowd with the blonde.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           “I’m going to find her,” Oliver told Tommy almost a week later.

           “You ever think she doesn’t want to be found?” Tommy asked. “What other girl have you ever had to chase?”

           “I’m going to find her,” Oliver said much more forcefully. It was only a question of how and when. Oliver had not gone to bed one night and not woken up without thinking about the Goth girl he had encountered.

           When he spotted Gordon approaching her, Oliver had gone over to see how badly the guy would tank. He was always great for a good laugh, especially when he thought he was being slick with the ladies. Oliver had needed a laugh. He and his girlfriend had called it quits a week before and Oliver was ready to move on. After a year of fighting, Oliver knew it was time to finally say enough was enough. When his girlfriend had called that night and tried to ask him why now, before she had been too shocked to ask, he told her he did not want to hear from her again. It was in that moment, Oliver had decided to come to the Halloween party.

           Then Elvira Jr. entered his life and he had never laughed so hard. She had the perfect comebacks. He had wanted more and so he approached her. She was this bright light in his mundane world. Something completely different from what he was used to. That was what drew him to her, but that wasn’t what made him stay. No, that was something else entirely.

           She made him feel things he never had before. It was an instant chemistry that was undeniable. The entire party faded away when they were close. It was not even just sexual chemistry, though they had that in spades. It was something that Oliver had yet to define. It made him want so much more, not only from her but from himself.

           “You think she’ll show at the party tomorrow?” Tommy asked drawing Oliver out of his thoughts. The party Tommy referred to was being held by the largest sorority on campus. It was their yearly day before Halloween bash that gathered everyone together from their campus and MIT. It attracted students and faculty alike.

           “I don’t know.” Elvira Jr. barely looked like she had wanted to attend the last party. Another reason to wonder why she was there. And why she disappeared so quickly. Oliver had spent the rest of the night trying to figure out where she had gone.

           “Are you going over to that seminar over at MIT tonight? It’s extra credit for class. And you need it bad after skipping so many classes.” Tommy might be talking about school, but his mind was definitely not focused there. His eyes were trained directly on a buxom brunette who smiled and waved at him as she passed with a couple of friends.

           “Doubtful,” Oliver told him as he nodded at the trio. None of them interested him. He was fully focused on one girl right now. Plus, extra credit was not going to help him at this point. He was failing computer class whether he showed up or not, so what was the point?

           “I’m thinking, I’ll go.” Tommy shrugged. “Extra credit could be useful since I have a feeling I am going to fail the mid-term.” Tommy nudged Oliver and gave him a wicked grin. “Plus, one of those nerdy chicks there must be looking for some male company that isn’t spewing computer codes and Periodic Tables. I’m totally bored with Laurel gone.”

           Oliver sighed heavily. He was not in search of a nerdy girl. Oliver wanted one and only one, which was a little strange for him to be so focused. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

           Tommy grinned harder and slapped him in the chest. “You won’t regret it.”

           Oliver could only hope that was true.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           “Tell me again why I agreed to do this?” Felicity asked Professor Karen Smith as she rechecked the projector while the professor went over her notes. Everyone was supposed to arrive soon for the lecture and Felicity was ready to run. She hated being in front of people when she did not have to be.

           “Because you’re the best and I needed the best,” Professor Smith smiled over at Felicity. “Plus, it saves you from the monotony of your term paper.”

           “I guess.” Felicity finished with the projector and flopped into the other chair next to her mentor. She spun it in a circle before gazing out at the empty room. “Still… I guess it’s better than prepping for the Halloween party tomorrow over at the other campus, like my roommate wanted me to do.”

           “See. Bright spot,” the professor joked, pushing back some of her long auburn hair back from her face. “But, maybe you should go.”

           Felicity raised a finger to her mouth and opened it so she could put it in and make gagging noises. Karen laughed. She knew how much Felicity hated frats and sororities, let alone their inane parties. Raising her legs, Felicity plopped them up on top of the desk. She was fine until she leaned back. That’s when the chair decided to roll out from underneath her. Felicity squealed and her professor screamed.

           A pair of strong hands came out of nowhere and caught Felicity before she hurt her butt and lost her dignity. When she looked up, Felicity saw that the first was definitely true, but the second was debatable.

           “Felicity, are you okay?” Karen had already jumped out of her chair and gave her a once over in concern as Felicity came up on her feet.

           “I’m fine,” Felicity told her professor and Oliver as she straightened her clothes that had come askew at the grab. “You can let go now.”

           “I’m good,” Oliver told her with a huge grin on his face. His hands had yet to leave her waist and now with her shirt fixed, some of his fingers brushed over the bare skin that he had access to since the shirt was now over his hands. One of those fingers moved in a circular motion over her stomach, making her shiver. “Felicity.”

           Shit. He now knew her name. Wait. Karen just said it. He knew no more about her than what she knew about him. That was a good thing, right? Even footing. “What are you doing here?”

           “Same thing as you, probably.”

           Felicity shook him off and turned to narrow her eyes at him. “You’re helping to give a lecture on Programming Languages?”

           Oliver chuckled. It was a deep, rich sound that had Felicity’s toes curling in delight. Not that she would ever admit to that. Ever. “I might if I had any idea what you said.”

           Karen nudged Felicity and gave her a soft smile. “You know, I just realized I completely forgot my mouse in the car. I’ll be right back.”

           Felicity was confused. She glanced over her shoulder at the computer set up. The mouse was right there. Damn Karen and her matchmaking ways. She was the one who had introduced Felicity to Cooper Seldon, the guy Felicity was currently dating, in the first place.

           “We’re alone,” Oliver whispered for no reason. It drew Felicity’s attention back to him.

           “Doesn’t matter.” Felicity was about to pull out the professor’s chair to sit down and work on the laptop when she turned and faced Oliver again. There was no need for him to be there. She had half a mind to tell him that. “The lecture is starting soon. Why don’t you grab a seat? The back fills up pretty fast with all the other people who decide to come here to fall asleep.”

           Oliver crossed his arms and Felicity noticed the muscles that shifted with that movement. “I have no plans on falling asleep. Or sitting in the back.”

           “Suit yourself.” Felicity shrugged. What he did was of no interest to her. And, yes, she was completely lying to herself. Oliver was bound to be a distraction. The last thing she needed was to look out and find him in the crowd. Though, her speech teacher had said something about looking out into the crowd and picturing them naked. However, picturing Oliver naked might just have the opposite effect that she was going for. Her mouth watered at the thought.

           “I have every intention of sitting over there,” Oliver nodded off to one side, “and watching you.”

           Felicity was about to sit down and stumbled at this words. Frack. This time she caught herself, but he moved back by her side. Their gazes caught and Felicity froze. What the hell was it about this guy that shook her to her very core? “I… uh… I better check to make sure everything is plugged correctly.”

           She made her way away from him on heavy feet. It was like moving away from him defied some sort of gravitational pull. One that he didn’t deny because he followed her off to the side and grabbed her arm to stop her.

           “Go out with me.”

           It was not a demand or a request. Which is probably what led her to ask, “Tonight?”

           “Okay.” His grin split his face and made two deep dimples on his cheeks appear.

           “I didn’t… I mean I… It wasn’t supposed to be…” Felicity stumbled over every single sentence she tried to say to get out of this supposed date. He was beyond not her type and she was already seeing someone. Sure, there was no promise of exclusivity at this point, but Felicity was not the person who dated a bunch of guys at the same time. In fact, she never had the chance to even think about it before now. It was not like she was the most popular, or the prettiest, girl on campus.

           “Felicity,” he drew her name out, making her eyes rise to his. “Please.”

           There was something mesmerizing in the way he said her name, but the way he said please was even more compelling. Vampires had nothing on this guy. Hell, he could probably give them pointers. Especially as he slowly licked his lips and cocked his head expectantly to the side.

           “Please,” he repeated.

           It was that second request that had her nodding despite every reservation she had. He was a frat boy with absolutely no interest in what made her tick. Her computers. They were her lifeline for as long as she could remember. Even more so since her father had left when she was seven. It gave her a small link to a man she barely remembered. The first one who ever broke her heart and destroyed whatever trust she had in the male race.

           Oliver’s palms slid over her face, this thumb brushing briefly over her lips. His head lowered and it was like watching some cheesy romance flick, only she was the female lead. Oliver’s mouth brushed over hers in an imitation of a kiss before he looked her in the eyes. In those depths, Felicity saw the question that lingered there. Apparently, he found an answer within her own because his mouth clamped down on hers.

           Felicity began to shake at the intensity of the kiss. She had no choice but to wrap her arms around him just to remain upright. The kiss was all consuming making Felicity feel like she was on fire with a need that she did not know she could feel.

           Barely, Felicity registered the sounds of people coming into the hall. It seemed so far off. A throat clearing was much closer. As was Professor Smith’s chuckle. “Right. You keep doing that. I’ll start.”

           Felicity clenched onto Oliver’s shirt with every intention of telling him they had to stop. Only she used it to pull him even closer when he broke off slightly to take a precious breath. It was like no matter how much they needed to separate they couldn’t. God! She was turning into a Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode.

           It took every bit of effort that she did not have to pull away from him. She ran around a chair that was sitting near them to put some space between them. Felicity clenched tight to the wood and took some well needed breaths. Looking up, Felicity saw the lower half of Oliver’s face was covered in her dark purple lipstick. His lips were swollen and, oh no, were there teeth marks near his bottom lip? She bit him? Frack!

           Her own lips felt chapped and sensitive. Raising a hand, she gently touched them. They were swollen as much as his were.

           It took a few minutes, and the sound of Karen’s voice, to return reason back to Felicity’s mind. She was supposed to be out there helping. Not hiding behind a curtain making out with one of the best looking guys she ever met. Felicity shook her head in an attempt to further clear her head.

           “I guess I better go.” Oliver jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward where Professor Smith was giving her lecture.

           “Why did you come? I mean not to the lecture, but earlier. Did you track me down?”

           Oliver shook his head and reached inside his leather jacket. He pulled out a folded up piece of paper and held it out to her. “I came for this.”

           Felicity accepted the paper and read it over. It was for extra credit. He needed to attend the lecture and get the professor to sign off that he had been there. There was a clause that said that Smith’s assistant could also sign the document. Glancing up at him, Felicity nodded down to the paper. “Do you have a pen? My bag is out there.”

           Reaching back in the pocket, Oliver extracted a pen. Felicity took it and signed the paper, handing both items back to him the second she was finished. She needed him to go. He was bad for her mental health. Oliver accepted them and they landed in the side pocket of his coat. He also buried his hands in each.

           There really wasn’t much more to say. Oliver was free to go. He had come and his paper was signed. Mission accomplished. However, the last thing he wanted to do was leave. The reason stood in front of him.

           Never had he felt such an instant connection to a complete stranger. Even his friendship with Tommy took time. More because they were always pushed together because they were the same age and their families were friends. Plus, they both shared a general distaste for Carter Bowen, a fellow friend of their families. “Felicity, I…”

           She shook her head and returned her hands to the back of the chair that still stood between them. She used it to shield herself from him. Not that the small wooden chair was much of a shield. He could easily kick it away without effort. “You might want to wash your face first.” She waved at her own chin and frowned. “Sorry.”

           Oliver scrubbed his leather jacket over his face. It came back with dark streaks on it. A small giggle bubbled up from Felicity and Oliver glanced over at her. “What?”

           “You made it worse.”

           “You should talk,” he teased. “The demented clown look was so last year.”

           “Frack!” Her hand raised to her face and she tried to rub off the lipstick that was streaked there. “How bad is it?”

           Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Adorable demented clown?”

           Felicity glanced around her and by the way her hands clenched, he was half sure she was looking for something to throw at him. Oliver reached out and cupped her face drawing it to his. He kissed her softly. Just enough to show her he had been teasing. If he lingered, Oliver was sure to sit on that chair and drag her down onto his lap. Something time and opportunity did not afford him.

           “Please go out with me,” he said against her lips. Oliver never begged for a girl to go out with him. They were usually much too eager to fall into his plans, if he wasn’t ejecting them from a bed he never invited them to. This one… He was willing to drop to his knees before if that’s what it took. What made this one girl so different from everyone else? The answer evaded him.

           “When?”

           Oliver silently cheered. “There’s a party tomorrow…”

           “No.” Felicity shook her head and stepped back. “I don’t do parties.”

           “You were at the one the other night,” he reminded her.

           “Not by choice,” she told him. “My roommate kicked me out and a friend of mine went there so I tagged along.”

           “Okay. When?” Oliver hoped he wasn’t leaving her with the opportunity to back out completely.

           Oliver watched her face change with each thought. She was so expressive. And, right now, he could tell she was warring within herself about why she agreed to come in the first place.

           “Tonight,” she said with a sigh. “Tonight works.”

           “Okay.” Oliver nodded at her. “Tonight.” He reached out and had to lean forward slightly to sweep a piece of her hair from her face. The dark strands were so soft in his hand. He rubbed them slightly before letting go. “Where?”

           Felicity named the hall just off the quad from where he had told Tommy he’d find her. Oliver nodded again. “Eight?”

           “Sorry,” Felicity said with a shake of her head. “My late class doesn’t end until seven thirty. I won’t be able to meet you until eight thirty. Is that okay?”

           “Yes.” Oliver reached out again and tilted her face up. He gave her smile even if everything in him demanded he kiss her again. “I’m looking forward to it.”

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           Felicity spent the rest of the lecture sitting in the chair completely unsure as to why she agreed to see Oliver again. Part of the reason she could not agree to come to the Halloween party was because she had a date with Cooper tomorrow. They were supposed to hit up the local cinema for a horror movie marathon before going over to the party. So, how was it she became that girl? The one who strung two guys along.

           “How did it go?” Karen asked as she approached with a large grin on her freckled face.

           Felicity shrugged one shoulder, anything else took more of an effort than she felt like giving right now. “We have a date. Tonight. After my class.”

           “You might want to wash your face before you go there,” Karen said with a laugh. “Looks like things got interesting.”

           “I know. Demented clown, right?” Felicity said with a sigh.

           “Ouch!” Professor Smith knelt down by Felicity’s knees. “And here I thought Oliver Queen would have better lines and more tact than that.”

           “Queen?” Felicity met her mentor’s eyes. The woman nodded.

           “I thought you knew.” Karen gifted Felicity with a confused stare and motioned back to the computer where things had to be cleaned up before they headed out. “His face is on like every other tabloid. Plus, he’s always on those celebrity news websites.”

           Felicity shrugged. “I don’t pay much attention to that stuff.” That did not mean she didn’t know who Oliver Queen was. People talked. Even nerds. Especially nerds.

           Oliver Queen was some playboy from Starling City, a city all the way across the country. A whole hell of a lot closer to Vegas where Felicity grew up than Massachusetts. He was known to sleep with anything in a skirt, young or old. Though he had a tendency to be seen with models and actresses. Yup, Felicity knew enough to regret agreeing to be another notch on his bedpost. Not that she had any intention of sleeping with him.

           “Hey.” Karen reached out and grabbed Felicity’s arm. “If he’s forcing you…”

           “No,” Felicity told her shaking her head. “It’s not that. I’m still a little taken aback by the fact that he’s Oliver Queen.”

           It was something that continued to bother her. If she had known… There was no sense playing that game. Her head hurt enough.

           Felicity walked across the quad in search of him. He did not appear to be there yet. Figures. One of the other things she heard about him was that he was always late. Though he had been far from late earlier that day.

           The only people on the quad were a couple of people jogging past. One was a brunette with long hair that bounced across her back from the ponytail it was tucked into. Felicity had no idea why she caught her attention. Maybe it was the way she squealed in excitement and ran faster to get to something or someone. Someone. Definitely someone.

           She threw herself at a guy and wrapped her long tan legs around his waist while her arms entwined around his neck. The guy’s arms wrapped around her sweaty form. His hand cupped her ass to keep her secure in his embrace.

           Felicity wanted that. She wanted to be so excited to see who she was dating that she had to run and greet him. Kiss him like she had kissed Oliver earlier. Like there was no one else but that person. Or no one else who mattered.

           The woman carded her hands through the guy’s hair and kissed him gently. Yep. That was definitely what Felicity wanted in a partner. Something she doubted that she’d ever find with…

           Oliver Queen. That’s who was in the woman’s arms. Or was she in his? It didn’t matter. Felicity froze the second she recognized him. The woman had finally settled down on her own two feet. She was not quite as tall as Felicity first pictured. It left plenty of room for Felicity to see Oliver’s face over her shoulder.

           The bastard. Felicity shook her head as her teeth began to clench. She was not going to stand here and watch any more. It was not like he had any shame for his actions when he stood in the middle of the quad where anyone could see him despite the darkness of the night. It didn’t matter that the space was lit up by the lights that the college had for safety.

           Ducking her head, Felicity kept to the shadows. With her dark hair and clothes, Felicity would be able hard to spot there. It did not take her long to reach her car. At least one good thing came out of tonight. She found out exactly what kind of man Oliver Queen really was.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           “Is she here?” Laurel asked as Oliver continued to search the quad for the fifth time.

           “No.” Oliver glanced down at his watch. They agreed to meet at eight thirty. He even made it there right on time. He never did that. So, where was she? Was she okay? Did she stand him up? Every question put him more on edge.

           Laurel laughed. “Seriously? Did she stand you up? The almighty Oliver Queen.”

           “Don’t you need to finish your run?” Oliver glared over at her hoping that Tommy’s girlfriend, and one of his good friends, would just go away. He was humiliated enough.

           “If you told me what Felicity looks like, I might be able to help you.”

           “Fine.” Oliver swung around to face her completely. “She had black hair with a purple streak on each side of her head and wears all black. She’s into Goth or something.”

           “Elvira Jr.? You had a date with her?” Laurel stared back at him in shock. “Tommy mentioned her, but he said you didn’t know her name or where to find her.”

           “Jealous?” Oliver teased. He and Laurel had dated for a short time back in high school. Back before she and Tommy realized they were happier together than apart.

           “Not in the least,” she told him with a smile. “I want you to be happy.” Laurel punched him in the arm. “Did you find her at the seminar? Tommy mentioned that he saw you go in to get the Professor’s signature, but never saw you after that. Is that how you found out who she was and arranged this?”

           “Yes.” Oliver refused to elaborate. He did not tell Tommy and he certainly had no intention of sharing with Laurel. This thing with Felicity was delicate. Apparently, more delicate than he believed if Felicity could not even bother to show up.

           “You have her number?” Laurel asked. “You could call her, because she’s definitely not here.”

           “No. I don’t.” Damn it. Right now, Oliver really wished he thought of it earlier. What if she was in an accident?

           Laurel held up a finger. “Hold that thought.” She grimaced at whatever passed over his face. “Actually, think of something better while I do something.” She whistled over to guy who was running past. “Hey, Lonnie.”

           “Laurel.” The guy came to a jogging stop next to them. “What’s up?”

           “Did you happen to see a Goth girl roaming the quad or the parking lot earlier?”

           “Goth? Like dark hair, clothes and all that?”

           Laurel looked in Oliver’s direction and he nodded. “Yeah. Ollie’s missing one.”

           Lonnie jerked his finger over his shoulder. “One left like fifteen minutes ago in some beat up old clunker. She came from out this way.” Lonnie looked down at his watch. “Yeah, I would say a little after eight thirty.” He shot Laurel a questioning look. “Surprised you didn’t see her.”

           Laurel shrugged. “I wasn’t really paying attention. I had my headphones in and then I saw Ollie and I ran to greet him.”

           “How is your sister doing?” Lonnie asked. Sara had been in a car accident with a drunk driver over two weeks ago and up until now Laurel had been back in Starling City helping out.

           “She’s good. Sara’s coming out of the hospital on Tuesday.”

           “That’s great. Tell her I said hi.” Lonnie pointed over to the dorms. “I gotta get going. My roommate has an early exam and wants lights out in an hour.”

           Oliver did not even bother to listen to the rest of the conversation. He was too preoccupied by the fact that Felicity had shown up. But something made her leave without coming to find him. There was no need for the sudden departure. Unless… Oliver swung around and grabbed Laurel’s arm. “Damn it, Laurel.”

           “What?” She blinked up at him in confusion.

           “You scared her away.”

           “Me?” Laurel looked even more confused. “What did I… Oh!” Laurel winced. “Sorry.”

           Oliver slapped a hand to his head and ran it through his hair, pulling strands along the way. Felicity saw him and Laurel. Not that there was anything happening between him and Laurel, but Felicity did not know that. Hell, Oliver had never even managed to get Felicity’s last name, let alone her number. How was he supposed to find her? “Professor Smith.”

           “Who?” Laurel stood there staring at him like he had gone crazy. Maybe he had.

           “Professor Smith over at MIT knows who she is. I just need to find her office and talk to her.” Oliver turned to go. He was a man on a mission. Only Laurel’s hand on his arm stopped him short. “What?”

           “It’s after nine on a Wednesday,” Laurel explained. “I seriously doubt she’s even at her office at this time of night. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

           “I can’t wait until tomorrow,” Oliver raged quietly. “The longer I wait the less chance Felicity will even talk to me.”

           Laurel let out a low whistle. “I wish you were only half this committed when we were dating.”

           “I’m not dating her,” Oliver pointed out. He waved his hands around the quad. “Obviously.”

           “Exactly,” Laurel said glaring at him before she walked away from him with a disgusted snort.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           “Knock. Knock,” Oliver said imitating his actions on Professor Smith’s open door at eight am the next morning. He had barely slept so coming here early was really no big deal, even if it would be any other day. Okay, so he’d miss a class or two, but it wasn’t something he had not done before. “Professor?”

           She looked up from the paperwork in front of her and smiled. “Mr. Queen. Come in. Please.”

           Oliver accepted the chair she indicated. Now all he had to do was follow through with the plan that had played in his head since the night before. “About…”

           “Felicity.” She nodded at him. It made him wonder how much she knew about what happened last night. “How did the date go?”

           “Did she tell you about it?” Oliver leaned forward in his seat intrigued to find out if Felicity had shared anything about what happened. When the redhead in front of him shook her head his heart sank a little.

           “Felicity might have mentioned that you planned one. Right around the time that I accidently spilled the beans on your last name.” Professor Smith smiled at him apologetically.

           She was a beautiful woman, even with the large smattering of freckles that consumed her face and the dark glasses that were perched on her nose. Oliver in any other situation would decide to flirt with her to see where things could go. That’s how Felicity affected him, because he could not even think about doing something like that. His mind was consumed with only her.

           “Sorry about that,” the professor continued. “I hope it did not affect the outcome.”

           “We never had a date,” Oliver told her. “I’m pretty sure she showed up, but I think she misunderstood a situation that she saw.” Oliver let out a sigh. “I think the fact that she knew my last name might have put some preconceptions into it.”

           Professor Smith winced. “I don’t know how to apologize enough for that. I thought with the way the two of you were acting that she might have already known.” She fiddled with a pen in front of her not quite meeting his eyes. “She’s not exactly forthcoming about what happened, but she has some trust issues where men are concerned.”

           Oliver rubbed his face as he took that in. “So, I’m screwed even before I began. Great.”  

           “Not necessarily.” The professor pointed her pen at him. “Tell me about this misunderstanding.”

           “My ex….”

           “Already not a great lead in, Mr. Queen,” she scolded.

           Shaking his head, Oliver decided to continue, even if she might be right. “My ex saw me. We’re still friends and she’s currently dating my best friend. Anyway, she saw me after being away for a few weeks because her sister was in a really bad car accident when I came to the quad to meet Felicity.” Oliver flinched as he pictured how the whole situation must have looked to Felicity, or anyone else, who did not know the whole story. “She was a little too enthusiastic in her greeting.” Oliver held his hands up in order to further his case. “I swear it was nothing.”

           “What kind of nothing is nothing?” She leaned back in her chair and studied him. Professor Smith did not seem like she was just going to accept him at his word. Maybe that was for the best since Felicity would also be hard to convince. But, Oliver felt like he was sitting in front of the headmaster waiting for his mother to come and pick him up after being expelled from school.

           “She ran and leapt into my arms.” Yeah, he could tell from her face that he was royally screwed.

           A harsh intake of breath was the only sound in the room. Finally, she shook her head in disappointment. “Are all of your friends this enthusiastic?”

           “I swear this was a one-time thing. It never happened before and after Laurel found out I was waiting for a date, she felt really bad.” However, when Laurel left him the other night, she had been pissed. More because she realized how much more this complete stranger meant to him than she ever did. “I doubt Laurel is even in the mood to speak to me right now, let alone anything else.”

           Professor Smith steepled her fingers in front of her. Her dark green eyes bored into him. “And where does Felicity fall in all of this? Will she just be another conquest, Mr. Queen? Because Felicity is one of my favorite students and I’d prefer to not see her hurt.”

           “She’s not just another conquest. And I’ll try really hard not to hurt her again.”

           The professor’s smile grew from the line of her lips. When it reached full peak, he knew he had won some sort of battle. “That was a very smart answer, Mr. Queen. No one can promise to never hurt someone. Especially ones we really care about. They always seem to be caught in the crossfire.” Once more she sat there studying him, but this time he felt like he was being measured up. It made him uneasy. He was completely unsure of where this conversation was leading. Then when she leaned forward, Oliver was sure all that he did, no matter how hard he pleaded, was over. He was surprised when he heard her words. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

           Oliver’s whole body relaxed. He let out a deep breath and began to smile. “Thank you.”

           She nodded at him and tapped her pen again. “What do you need from me?”

           “Can I get her last name and where to find her?”

           Professor Smith shook her head this time. “That’s not how I work. And, frankly, I can’t take the chance you’ll upset her school day. College is very important to her. That’s the first thing you need to know. Felicity is driven and passionate about what, and who, she loves.”  

          Oliver shot her a look, mainly because there was an underlining message in what she was telling him. He caught it, but he was not quite sure if he was capable of being the guy that the professor was telling him he needed to be for Felicity’s sake. He wanted to be, though. The underlining question was if Felicity already had deep feelings for someone else. “Is she in love with someone already?”

           She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know about love, but, yes, Felicity is currently seeing someone else. And, unlike you, she’s not one to divide her interests so easily. If you understand my meaning.”

           Felicity would not cheat. That’s what she was saying. And Oliver was the one who came last. That made him inwardly chuckle. For once he was placed on the other side of the fence. Maybe Laurel was not wrong. It sucked over here.

           “I see you do.” Professor Smith rose gracefully from her chair dropping her pen on her desk before she circled around it. She took a seat on the edge near where Oliver was seated and crossed her arms. “I will talk to her. If she decides that she’s willing to take a chance, where would you like to meet?”

           “I’ll be at the sorority party on campus tonight. Everyone will pretty much be there. It’s a yearly event as you probably know.”

           “I’ve been,” she said with a nod. Her eyes became distant for a moment. “I met my fiancée there.”

           Oliver smiled at her. “He’s a lucky guy.”

           Professor Smith returned back to the present and smiled at him. “Yes, she was but I lost her last year.”

           “I’m sorry.” Oliver did not know what else to say. He never really had to do much with loss. The only person he lost in his life was Tommy’s mother.

           “I’m not.” Professor Smith pushed to her feet. “I have a beautiful daughter that reminds me of her mother every day. One that’s very much like Felicity, so you see why I’m this protective.”

           “Yes, I do.” Oliver knew his own mother would be the same way. She had always protected him from the harsh realities of life. Maybe, sometimes, too much.

           “Good.” The professor reached out and shook his hand. “I’ll see what I can do for you. There’s no guarantees. Felicity is a very smart and resilient young woman who makes her own choices. I hope that you will respect whatever that choice may be.”

           “I will,” Oliver promised. Though, he could only hope that she would choose him. He hated to admit it, but his heart would break just a little at not being able to see Felicity ever again. “Thank you.”

           “Thank you for reminding me how precious love is when we have it.” She winked at him before waving him back toward her door.

           Karen waited for Oliver to leave before she pulled the picture of her fiancée out of her drawer. She had hidden it there over the past year unable to look at it, even if it also contained her beautiful daughter. Taking it out, Karen placed it back on her desk. She was ready to see her love of her life again without a severe bout of sadness invading.

           Oliver and Felicity might not realize it yet, but they had a great love in store for them. Much like Karen had. It was the greatest feeling ever, but you had to be ready for it. She wasn’t quite sure that they were. However, she had to see if they could handle it, because both of them deserved it.

           Picking up her phone, Karen called Charles Rounet’s office. He was about to have Felicity in his class and he owed her a favor. It would be no trouble for him to send Felicity over to her without losing credit.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           Felicity flopped back on her bed. Her conversation with Karen left her with a lot of things to think about. The woman would not give her a definitive answer of what she would do if she was placed in Felicity’s situation. Which made this all the harder for Felicity. Professor Smith was her mentor and Felicity fully respected her opinion.

           Oliver had not been there to meet up with someone else. It just happened his ex, who was still his friend, that was a good thing right, was there. Felicity had not dated enough to be able to understand being friends with a previous boyfriend. She guessed it was possible. Felicity did not possess a mean bone in her body, so she doubted that she would ever really hate anyone. She had even forgiven the bullies who used to tease her back in school.

           However, how hard was it to say no to your ex when they acted inappropriately? Felicity sighed. Probably as hard as it was to say no to a guy you already agreed to date. Question was which guy was she going to use it on?

           Felicity really liked Cooper. She could really see the two of them going the distance, way past college. They were a lot alike, yet different enough that their relationship would always be interesting.

           Oliver, on the other hand, was almost Cooper’s complete opposite. No matter how you studied it, Felicity and Oliver would never match up on paper. However, there was this undeniable chemistry that sparked between them. When they touched, that spark combusted. In her scientific mind, that scared her because sparks fizzled. It lost its glow and faded away. Which was an excellent reason for her to say no to Oliver. It wasn’t meant to last.

           Only every time she tried to convince herself that was the case, it felt wrong. By the time Cooper called up to her dorm room to see if she was ready to head out, Felicity was bombarded by the worst headache she ever remembered having.

           “You mind if I sit out tonight, Coop?” Felicity said to him after she had slunk down to the main floor of the dorm to meet him. “My head is killing me.”

           Cooper pulled her into a hug and rubbed the hair on her head. It was comforting and just what she needed at the moment. She was half tempted to ask him up to her room and just lay with him on her bed and watch television the rest of the night. “Sure. Just feel better. Okay?”

           Felicity nodded against his thin chest. One that she could get used to. But did she want to get used to it or did she want to crave being there like she did with Oliver? Pulling back, Felicity raised her eyes to Cooper’s face. A handsome face for a good man. Just he wasn’t the one she wanted. “Cooper, I have a question.”

           “Sure.” He indicated a nearby bench and they both sat down. “What’s going on?”

           “First, I want to tell you that I really do have a headache. I’m not lying about that.” Felicity reached out for his hands and squeezed them. She noticed that Cooper shut down slightly and stiffened at her touch after her words. “Second, there’s this guy…”

           “What?” Cooper pulled his hands from hers. “Are you breaking up with me?”

           “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Felicity nodded, then shook her head before she shrugged. “I really don’t know. It’s complicated.”

           “Who is it?” Cooper jumped up and stared down at her. One of the dark strands of his hair fell across his forehead right above his angry eyes. “It’s Martin Pollak, isn’t it?”

           “No,” Felicity said vehemently. Martin Pollack, seriously? He was in her Unified Engineering IV class. Martin creeped her out on a good day with his bright blonde hair and his blue eyes that were almost so light that it just looked like he had small black circles within his eyes. Add into that he always tried to lean over her for answers or to catch up on notes and… Just, no. Felicity shuddered. “It’s Oliver Queen.”

           “Queen?” Cooper relaxed slightly and began to laugh. “Queen?” Now Cooper doubled over in laughter. “Sure. You and Oliver Queen.”

           One of her dorm mates walked past and Cooper grabbed her arm. “Want to hear something funny? My girlfriend thinks that Oliver Queen actually wants to date her.”

           The pretty blonde turned to look in Felicity’s direction. The look was practically murderous. “She doesn’t stand a chance in hell of even gaining his attention.”

           Not only had she gained it, Felicity made him search her out. Not by choice, but he did. Staring at the two of them, Felicity rose. She had her answer now. “You’re right. It must be the headache. I’m going to go rest.”

           Felicity pushed past the two of them and went up to her room. A note was pinned there from her roommate. She had left to go to the Halloween party at Oliver’s campus. Exactly the same place Felicity planned to be very soon. There was only one problem. She had no costume to wear.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           Karen showed up an hour later with a bag draped over her arm. “You’re fairy Godmother is here.”

           Felicity giggled at the seriousness in which her mentor said that. “I thought for sure fairies were supposed to be smaller than me. Not six foot tall redheads.”

           Karen bopped her on the nose as she entered Felicity’s room. “Sorry to disappoint.” She nodded down at Felicity. “You need to strip.” She threw the bag on Felicity’s bed. “This requires skin.”

           Felicity’s eyes fell to her minimal cleavage under the large sweatshirt she was wearing. “I don’t have much to hold stuff up.”

           “It’s not that type of skin, though that helps.” Karen reached for the door and pulled it open. “Knock when you’re all dressed. I’ll wait outside.”

           The second she was gone, Felicity revealed what was in the bag. Holy shit! There was no way Felicity would be able to pull this off. All it was consisted of was a black one-piece. It was studded up around the breasts and the rest was leather. A brand new pair of fishnets were attached to the hanger.

           Felicity gulped. She was going to freeze even before she got over to the party. With a deep intake of breath, Felicity reached out and did the unthinkable. She put on the outfit.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

           “You look great,” Karen told Felicity as she pulled up outside the sorority house.

           Felicity played with the blonde wig Karen had given her to put on over her black hair. “Is this thing on straight?”

           “It’s perfect.” Karen pulled Felicity’s hands down from her head. “Leave it alone and give me your coat.”

           “I don’t know if I can do this,” Felicity admitted as her eyes began to stare out the window at the party goers that spread out everywhere.

           “You can.” Karen squeezed her hands. “You have the confidence and I believe in you. More than that, the second Oliver realizes it’s you, I doubt you’ll ever have a second to doubt yourself.”

           “Okay.” Felicity took a couple of deep breaths and stepped out of the car. She took off the coat and shivered at the coldness that invaded her skin. “Can I keep it at least? It’s freezing out here.”

           Karen nodded at her as she ducked down to stare up at Felicity. “Give it to Oliver. He’ll know where to put it so you can get it back easily.”

           “Thank you,” Felicity told her friend. “For everything. And wish me luck. This place is huge. It might take me a while to find him.”

           Something caught Karen’s eyes making them light up in laughter. “I don’t think luck is needed.” She smiled softly up at Felicity. “Reminds me of meeting Dia.”

           Dia was short for Brenda. Or at least that was the nickname Felicity had been told about. Dia had been Karen’s fiancée until a year ago, when she died in a car accident on her way to work. A deer had leapt in front of her car and when she slammed her breaks the car behind her never did, pushing Dia’s car down a ravine. The person who ran her off the road had never been found.

           Oliver appeared out of the crowd and jogged around to the driver’s side of Karen’s car. He knocked on her window until she rolled it down to talk to him. “Hey. Did you talk to Felicity?”

           “I did,” Karen told him.

           “And?” Oliver stared at her expectantly. “Is she coming?”

           Karen glanced over at Felicity before she went back to looking at Oliver. “That decision is up to her.”

           Felicity bit one of her bright red lips. Oliver honestly had no clue she was right there. Which was good because it allowed Felicity to glean some insight into what he was thinking.

           “She’s out with that other guy, isn’t she?” Oliver cursed. “I screwed up. I should have made sure I tracked her down myself to talk to her.”

           “Maybe. Maybe not,” Karen told him. “How badly do you want to fix this?” She tapped one finger on his hand that gripped onto her door. “Are you jealous?”

           “Fuck, yeah, I’m jealous.” Oliver straightened and crossed his arms. He looked ready to hurt someone. “I wasn’t fast enough. With the other guy. With meeting her. With not telling her I was sorry that I might have embarrassed her with Laurel.”

           He sounded so upset and sincere in his rant. But there was only one way to really prove that he actually wanted her and not the idea of her.

           Felicity draped her coat on the top of the car and sidled her way around on dangerously high heels. She had to think about it for a second, she was no actress to change her voice. “Hey, handsome.” She ran a hand over his chest that lay somewhat bare and he shrugged it off. “Want to dance?”

           “Not with you,” he told her with the briefest of glances. “And I don’t dance.”

           Karen tried to hide her amusement and that gave Felicity even more incentive to follow through. She pouted up at him. “Please.”

           Felicity pressed her entire body against his. She shimmied slightly. She never shimmied in her life until this moment. Oliver’s eyes barely flickered down to her. In a second, she was found wanting. It stung slightly.

           “You’re gorgeous, but I’m not interested.” Oliver’s eyes sparked with desire but he shook his head. He leaned against Karen’s door in an effort to escape some of Felicity’s movements. His eyes dropped to Karen. “Can you call her? I just need to talk to her. You don’t have to give me her number, just call so I can apologize.”

           “What are you sorry for, handsome?” Felicity asked in her best imitation of her mother.

           “This doesn’t involve you,” Oliver barely told her over his shoulder. “Please, Professor.”

           Karen shrugged, but her eyes met Felicity’s. She nodded at her mentor. “Okay.” Karen dialed the phone and Felicity’s coat began to ring.

           Felicity went over to answer it as quickly as she could on the heels she was not used to wearing. Digging it out of the folds of the coat, Felicity picked it up and answered. “Yes?”

           “Oliver would like to talk to you,” Karen said with a smile to her voice.

           “He just was,” Felicity told her. “He didn’t seem to care a moment ago.”

           Oliver’s eyes slowly rose to meet hers over the car’s roof. “Felicity?”

           She tapped her phone. “I thought you wanted to call and apologize.”

           He shook his head and slid over the hood of Karen’s car. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling the phone from her hand. He slammed it back on the top of the car. Oliver cradled her face in his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

           “I don’t know,” Felicity said with a shrug. “You kind of just brushed me off.”

           “Because I had no idea it was you.” His eyes trailed over her body and she noticed his Adam’s apple bob heavily in his throat. “I did tell you that you were gorgeous.”

           “Yes, you did,” she agreed.

           “Oh, just kiss her already,” Karen called out from inside the car.

           Felicity glanced around, pulling his hand from her face. “It appears we have an audience.”

           Oliver’s own eyes traveled over the group that had formed around them. “Yeah. You okay with that? Because it’s kind of a regular thing for me.”

           She contemplated that. Felicity might not mind occasional public displays of affection but to know that people might always be there watching her? It kind of scared her. Was Oliver worth all of that?

           Felicity stared up into his blue eyes and realized he was as unsure as she was. This wasn’t a joke for him. He was seriously interested in her and by the way he hesitated her opinion mattered. It was like she had this power over him in some way. Not that she asked for it. Some women would get off on it. For Felicity it was just another hurdle to cross. “I can try to be.”

           “Good, because I’ve been dying to do this since yesterday.” Oliver pulled her in tight to his chest and kissed her. Right there in front of everyone, he laid his claim. Not just on her, but to her. There were a million promises laid out in the press of his lips. Felicity returned it with a few of her own.

           When they broke apart, the crowd cheered. Even Karen let out a whoop of excitement.

           Oliver clenched her hand within his own. He gathered up her coat and phone and looped his arm around her waist. Knocking on Karen’s roof, Oliver bent down to smile at her. “Thank you. For everything.”

           “You’re welcome. Both of you.”

           Karen drove away and Oliver tugged Felicity even closer. “I think you owe me a last name.”

           “Smoak,” Felicity told him. “My last name is Smoak.”

           “Good.” He smiled at her and pulled her forward. “Now that is out of the way. I’d like to introduce you to some friends of mine.”

           “I’d like that.” Felicity smiled up at him. Professor Smith seemed like she was right. Sometimes the ones you least expected to fall in love with were the ones that you were meant to be with.

[chansondesalleurs]

I was tagged by the sublime @corpsequeeninthenorth a while ago, but because I am total shit at doing things I am tagged in, I forgot. Well, that is only half the story. The other half is that partway through my latest social media marathon I felt the need to interject a morass of intrepid hemming and raucous hawing out of (sheer lack of) deference to the rat race of a pull-to-get-on-top lifestyle I keep good faith with, even as it pains me to admit it. Sometimes I'm barely even in a place to divert myself, let alone step up any game at all, but I was in a good place today, so I thought I'd do this for the hell of it. :D

Rules: Answer eight questions and tag eight people

Last Movie I watched: Star Wars (Episode VI) – The Return of the Jedi aka Re-watch Reboot vol. 2

Last Song I listened to: Enjoy the Silence – Depeche Mode

Last Book I read: The Raven King (also part of the Raven Cycle saga) by Maggie Stiefvater

Last thing I ate: a healthy serving of shrimp with spinach & tomatoes a++

Where would I want to Time Travel to: hmmm ordinarily, i'm not exceedingly fond of a whole lot of time-travel scenarios where I also get to fiddle with the past/future as one does, but then I'm thinking I might as well be all in earnest here for the tiniest fraction of a second as I fess up and vomit out my covert, semi-tangible feelings about the live-action BatB remake, insofar as some of the finer points the writers saw fit to come up with in their attempts to update the original in an interesting spin on it grabbed me round the ears and threw me into the wall as soon as I exited the cinema chamber. I'm talking about [SPOILER ALERT!!!] Belle and the Beast bonding over the loss of people who stood as maternal figures for both early in life which, coupled with the added onus of their estrangement from available relationship venues onwards, just about piled on the experience of sameness that was prompted by a visit to Paris (and Belle's own birthplace) in a later bid through the space-time continuum – Belle being let in on the details of her mother's presence there and ultimate fate that Maurice was pretty much unwilling to discuss and having an easier time expressing her shared interests with the Beast, gradually easing into a position where their relationship is fast approaching grounds of equality.

I guess I was really sort of impressed by the writers obviously delving into the basics of the tale and reaching into their special bag of tricks to get their awareness of major themes and underpinnings of the story across, Beauty and the Beast getting to know each other in the most intimate of ways, and both are transformed as a result. Do the writers earn their share of cookies for researching stuff and editing a whole list in accordingly, even despite a melange of familiar limitations and a bunch of tepid drawbacks, yes yes they do! I did also figure that the narrative itself was all too keen to put the Beast as a thrall to the enculturation of male privilege of a kind that is directly responsible for individual victimisation and the perpetuation of abuse and neglect – make no mistake, the Beast being a full-fledged adult by time the curse was put in place, he deserved every bit of what he got – spanning a nexus where gender and status share a common interface of class discrimination and material value. This is the type of magic I’m all about (*ahem*), and it helped flesh out the character quite a bit from a writing standpoint. It is important to me that it made the cut, much thanks to young Adam’s complicated relationship with papa, shining new light on his relationship with Belle, taking on additional dimensions of meaning, and not just for the thrill of watching the adaptation land, and well enough at it, let alone my very peculiar attachment to the original that I so count, certified and with a registration ID to boot, as a favourite. My girl Belle has always gotten to me in a way that no character in a tale has, her desire to make herself known to the world and explore its full potential for adventure on her own terms, all of which she learns to take in stride and accept with the good and the bad. Her bravery in the face of danger, and all her reserves of natural fortitude that she dips into to steel herself against the opinions of those around her, Emma Watson's version of Belle does not disappoint.

Like it is always a pleasure to watch Beauty cut a rebellious and dedicated figure in the confines of her immediate circle and beyond – for the purposes of the film, Belle is made to fit the mold of an inventor in conduct, all too given to the novelty of her makeshift washing machine that she may be left to her own devices while the laundry gets itself done, and her introduction teaching a young girl to read rocks my unwashed, plaid, ingeniously slide-proof socks. Even so, the townspeople and their timid, honest response to Belle during the first song is a wonder for the ages. The idea that not everyone condemns Belle, strange though their perception of her might be, is a refreshing and altogether hopeful concept in itself, at once cognizant of the 1991 animated classic and the changes it brings with it, much as it teases out the connection  between Beauty and the Beast, who is similarly inclined in his intellectual pursuits. I did say that Belle was a huge role model for me for a whooping total of reasons, so next time I play-act myself as my Disney princess heroine of choice (for nostalgia's sake) I will be sure to remember: keep going, and know that no matter where it is that you find yourself, no matter the time, the world is as good a place to be as any; there is some ache and suffering and raring trepidation beyond the bubble, but there is beauty in it, too. [/END SPOILER]

(What in the name of all that is holy has BatB to do with the meme close to hand you ask. Did I swap a bunch of perfectly reasonable, self-contained answers for a novel-length reply starting in on the most recent adaptation of the story to hit the big screen and never easing off the gas with this monstrosity of a detour into fairytale-land? I have no idea. It might have something to do with the day being Wednesday and me slowly perishing under an immovable sea of homework, beckoning in its evil, Satanic way, but I won’t say I’m in love. Elsewise, I will be assimilated. tmi, y/y?)

Fictional Character I would hang out with for a day: Luuuke!!!!! (Skywalker, naturally.) I mean, blond and missing a hand? :P

Current Fandom Obsession: Hannibal, A Song of Ice and Fire, BatB, and a smattering of interests tentatively titled ‘Do I even have a fandom to speak of?’ Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

(Also, SW: The Last Jedi = hype. The wait is too strong for me to handle.)

Anyway, I don't want to lure you into a false sense of security with stuff like that. Basically, this whole tumblr thing has gotten away from me lately, and though I honestly did try to cull it somewhat and get my blog back into some semblance of shape going forward, I fail at the internet. If you, like me, are by any chance  sticking it out yet, you are awesome and deserve all the good things, too <3<3<3

I’m tagging everyone and no one in particular. If you want to take a spin with this piece, go right ahead!

[sammgreer]

Torment Tides of Numenera

What a treat this is. Are you bored of Dungeons and Dragons? Goblins and elves? All that usual fantasy guff? Well look no further than Tides of Numenera for a flawed but thoroughly refreshing RPG.

The game can't be mentioned without noting that it is a spiritual successor to the lauded cult classic Planescape Torment. An isometric RPG whose penchant for philosophy and bizarre world building rightfully earned it a place as one of the greatest RPGs ever made, though one that was not all that influential.

Enter Tides of Numenera. The question at the heart of Planescape was “What can change the nature of a man?”, exploring fears about immortality. Tides' central question is a little more conventional, “What does one life matter?” but it's one that's made poignant by a rather nuanced exploration.

Set in the Ninth World, a version of Earth in the far, far future after hundreds of civilizations have risen and fallen, where strange entities have visited from other dimensions and the soil itself is strewn with the remains of advanced, now ancient technology. It tells the tale of the Changed God, an immortal being who lives on by hopping to a new body whenever he grows bored with the old one. But when he does, the old body develops a consciousness of its own and becomes a castoff. 

You play as the most recent of these “children”, The Last Castoff and enter this story in the middle of a centuries old conflict. Not all the Castoffs are friendly towards their “father” and many have taken arms up against him. All of it has something to do with a terrifying foe named The Sorrow which hunts down and removes these castoffs from existence in pursuit of the Changed God himself. It's a delightfully odd premise you find yourself in but one with clear stakes that anchor the strangeness.

Tides of Numenera borrows the core pillars of Planescape. Like the Nameless One, protagonist of that game, the Castoffs are relatively invincible and can recover from most fatal wounds. This means death does not always lead to a game over screen but instead can become the starting point for a divergent path or reveal whole new quests all together. Failure seldom means simply loading your last save and this makes for not only a less frustrating game but one that is frequently surprising.

Notably combat is now turn-based, ridding us of the fiddly frantic clicking of the original where the combat was rather tiresome and the weakest aspect of the game. Whilst the new system is much easier to manage and navigate it ultimately still winds up being the weakest part of the game. The effort system, in which player's can choose how much of a finite resource to expend on actions, multiplying their effectiveness, is novel yet feels a little underdeveloped. At the outset of the game it's an awkward barrier to success since you're simply limited by the tiny amount available to you, necessitating rests between every encounter. By the game's end however you have such a vast pool of effort to draw on that later encounters can often feel trivial. Perfectly functional but the combat's never engrossing in its own right.

Thankfully though, Tides is much like Planescape and you can almost always avoid combat all together, utilising deception or persuasion in conversations to achieve your goals. This feels more rewarding anyway, outwitting an opponent instead of merely manipulating stats and a welcome alternative to the combat heavy titles that dominate the genre.

It is almost entirely text with a few voiceovers for key scenes so if you're used to the modern productions of Bioware or CDProjekt, this might seem a little arcane. Sadly it also means some key moments of drama are relegated to what's read rather than shown on screen. Not too much of a problem when the writing is as frequently engaging as this but old fashioned in a way some might not be up for.

Unlike all too many CRPG successors and revivals of the past few years, Tides is restrained and tries to keep itself to a paragraph or few sentences instead of endless walls of text. Furthermore, it puts personality and character up front, keen to keep you engaged with people instead of exposition dumps. And it must be said, almost every character in this game is bursting with personality. There are psychics, ghosts, creatures that converse with smells and one of your potential companions is a woman connected with every version of herself in every parallel reality. So many characters could be the basis for their own tale and yet here they are, brushing shoulders with a world as bizarre as they are.

Where Planescape was a drab world, obsessed with the morbid and dripping with black humour, Tides of Numenera is far more colourful and varied. Some of those familiar elements are there but the Ninth World is a more diverse place, encapsulating various genre tropes but also many ideas of its own. A coastal reef seemingly composed of fallen starships and ancient ruins. A city constructed out of the living flesh of a gargantuan creature. Like the characters that inhabit them, each of these locations would be worthy of a whole game but here they are, a single step in a tremendously varied adventure.

There are engrossing side quests in each one of these places that are never ever simple fetch quests and always with substantial plot. Murder mysteries involving a cannibal cult, hunts across time and space and sometimes just a polite conversation with an immortal man-made killing machine. All of which emphasise player agency, offering several possible solutions and never making obvious perfect solutions nor judging your for whichever resolution you seek. There are consequences for you choices of course but the game itself never passes judgement though some of your companions might. Assuming you even keep them around, seeing as you're free to travel alone should you desire. It brims with imagination but crucially there are thoughtful ideas propping up this entire mad world. There are depths and questions worth asking in all of its experiences, most notably in the main quest itself.

Your adventure starts with the simple goal of escaping and perhaps defeating the Sorrow, the inter-dimensional entity that chases you and your brethren. This conflict extends throughout the whole game, as you are introduced to each side in the debate over the rights and wrongs of immortality and your existence. It's never quite as mysterious or alien as Planescape (no floating skulls for company here alas) but with much clearer stakes from the outset, I was hooked from beginning to end. 

No matter what strange landscape I was exploring and however lost amidst the customs and rules of that particular space I was, I at least knew what my ultimate goal was. It's a clarity that allows them to be more daring in the oddness of the locales and characters you meet along the way. That breadth of imagination was wonderful, a rich alternative to a gaming genre that is frequently bogged down in the same Tolkein-esque tropes.

And it's a story that's told rather well, pacing each reveal just carefully. You'll likely see most of the important twists well in advance as I did but the execution is still top notch. I cared about my companions, I cared about the plot and I believed in what was at stake. The ending's well sign-posted but still feels like it comes a little soon. I wanted to see more of this world before it was, meet more new faces. I suppose that's a testament to what they've done here, leaving me wanting more. It does end perfectly however, with a final choice that I expected from the start but which had quite a different meaning by the time I got to making it.

“What does one life matter?”. I had an answer at the start that truthfully, didn't change too much over the course of the game. I still hesitated for many minutes over each choice mind. But Tides of Numenera did help me better understand why I thought this way and how many games can claim to tackle such things?

Already I'm planning a subsequent playthrough, keen to see what quests I missed and which characters I never met, of which I'm aware there's a few. Whilst it doesn't bother me, others may find the weak combat a little discouraging as there's little room to experiment with varied character builds or classes. You are The Last Castoff and aside from a choice of gender, there's little room for variance save for the choices you make in the story.

For me, Torment Tides of Numenera is a very cool game, a bizarre tale told well and with clarity. It has charm but also depth, concepts of morality and philosophy that are told with care and imagination.

Whether you've been waiting for a follow-up since Planescape or you've just grown a bit tired of conventional fantasy, I'd give Tides of Numenera a go. I hesitated, having bounced off so many CRPG revivals but this one is the real deal. Despite a flawed combat system, it's an old-school story driven RPG built with a modern audience in mind. And what a story it has to tell.

[mynameisdreartblog]

Vacation Resorts 3

Libra: Beresheet Hotel. “And like a smoggy monster breaking its dormancy from civilization by emergence from the olden well, there sprang forth an unnegotiable howl. It called upon all the night-walking villagers of the nearby town to seek where such a call beckoned them. One by one — as if it were a plague that swept all known — were these men (now turned nightwalkers) dragging their tools along the ground loosely from their holsters, implying a lack of human care. All were approaching towards that which mysteriously spoke all the tongues of the native land, and with such hypnotic trance and a strange, audible dreg. As the nightcrawlers walked further from their schedules, the beaten dirt paths began to glow iridescent with scratch marks, heavy footprints, and mysterious mounds. <The sound of shifting pages becomes audible> Thereafter, the fluorescent scratch marks had become replaced with new scars: Signs of desperation to escape a chaser or several. The heavy footprints dig even farther into the earth as iron-toed greaves crush the ground… <The sound of shifting through pages becomes more urgent> The mysterious mounds now tear their shrouds as bones, trickling with leftover flesh, arise from the dirt with uncovered magics conjuring a halfway resurrection.” [,] So, what did you think of it? «Wow, that’s… pretty wordy: Why were you writing like that?»  Firstly, that’s better than immediate compliment. Secondly, this was from a writing exercise back when I was in high school to be very descriptive in your language. My teacher never had the guts to tell me I was being too descriptive, so they slapped a good grade on it. «High school? God, that must’ve been ages ago back in… 1950-something.» October 1953, and I was the first of my high-school class because I enrolled just six years after they founded the school, making me a dinosaur retrospectively. «Heh! What was your inspiration for this?» My rational sense would tell me that it was when I decided to think really hard about Mediterranean terrors from days old, but the truth tells me that I never had an interest in that until I graduated. «It sounds way too much like northern Europe to be Mediterranean.» Well, I didn’t wanna play into Greek tropes.

Cancer: Portal Del Lago Hotel. Ah, “racoon with yams.” I wonder what else you have in this fridge. «It’s all yours; I haven’t checked up on it in a while.» You know what that tells me? It tells me whatever’s in here isn’t passable for any human consumption. «Yet, you’re still digging through it. Keep this up, and you’ll end up the next racoon to be in those canned yams.» Pfft, you and your office jokes. <Springe digs several inches further into the employee fridge, looking at the treacherous back to see what vile horrors lie there.> Ah, it’s nothing too bad: Just some leftover feijoada and a bag filled with miniature coxinhas. I’d reheat some of it if I knew they didn’t have my name on them. «Who brought the “racoon with yams” then?» I don’t keep tabs on every person here. Hell, I don’t even keep tabs on all the patients who see me. «Only the ones that open their hearts to you, right?» Ugh, don’t make it a mushy thing: Sometimes you don’t like the bile you find inside… or in this fridge, Jesus. <Springe pulls out a strangely warm bag of chips, and the contents within it contain a strange, black bile that falls out. It appears to be alive in some way, which doesn’t terrify Springe as they’ve dealt with rogue intestines before.> Oh, it’s wriggling! «Did someone put biological material in the wrong fridge again? I thought I issued an announcement about that!» <Springe tosses the creature in the nearby trashcan and continues digging through the seemingly endless employee fridge. Meanwhile, the biomass crawls its way out of the trashcan and slithers up through Springe’s pants, leaving a slimy but unnoticeable trail behind it.> «Uh, did you see that?» <Springe acts confused.> Huh? No. [,] «My lunch break is almost up, so I’m afraid I won’t be here ’til the point where you’re existential in your fridge spelunking.» <Springe, completely oblivious to the world outside of the fridge, is experiencing temperatures so cold that their eyelashes have frost on them. Also, they can’t hear pleas from outside: This is normal, you see.> Will there be eternal comfort at the end of this? I don’t know: Is there eternal adventure? Is there another quest at the end of it? People don’t tend to think beyond the end. People hold onto things all the time despite this, and I’ll be getting somewhere with this soon. <The clouds of breath coming from their mouth form unforgettable skylines.>

Virgo: Caspian Riviera Grand Palace Hotel. <There’s nobody else in this scene except for Bluma and her solitary thoughts. To conjure a scene, it’s a cold night somewhere in intercontinental Central Asia: Snow aligns the corners of a window seemingly located here to perfectly accent a contemplative thinker needing to subconsciously observe it. That contemplative thinker today is our subject Bluma: What could she possibly be pondering within her mind? Is she trying to figure out the supposed ’hard problem’ of consciousness; aligning the stars to see what multitudes her purposes contain; maybe she’s just taking the moment as it is? One can only wonder.> [,] The folder of topless anime women has been sitting in my files for years. How did it even accumulate? Oh yeah, there’s a whole story behind it, and there’s nobody here to tell it to, which is fantastic. So, I really liked this old dating simulator where you’d date cute girls (and boys) that were based off classic monsters in Western mythology. It wasn’t a cutesy anime style though; it looked like it was drawn by someone who makes action-shows about barbarians, but I didn’t care since the game was mostly text anyways, so the positive chemical rush that gets into your head was worth it the whole way through. I did eventually find one with the same concept but with an anime art-style only fifteen years later… I’m getting sidetracked; what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the folder. Well, at the end of certain routes in the game, you’d receive a timelessly risqué picture as your reward, and I decided to uh… make a collection out of them as a way to preserve the reward I had received. Wait, am I talking about the same game? There are multiple games that had topless women at the end of them as a reward, and I’m confused which was which again… One had a protagonist named Alyosha, and the others were some American names: Nothing potentially related to anything else. [,] <She places her fingers on her temple and creates an iconic pose to represent the methodical nature of humanity. She knows she’s artwork in living form, and it aches her at every moment to be seen as just another person among her flock. This is the tragedy of the image we place upon ourselves when we observe reflections: Distortions are all that we live by, and the true gasp of the self comes through in this pose.> [,] I’ll search for that folder again, and if they’re not where I think I last placed them, they’ve likely manifested into specters that guilt me every time I look at porn.

Sagittarius: Peermont, the Grand Palm. When you’re finished with all your internships, make a pile of all your previous work and burn it. «…Wait, that’s it: That’s all the advice you have for me?» Um, yes? «No, no, no, there must be a catch to all of this. I came searching for you ever since you did a presentation for our class in the town square!» You would’ve been better off eavesdropping if you were gonna end up disappointing by seeking me. «I don’t get it, and I feel like I’m being played with by not getting it.» I feel like I’m being played by only knowing who you are from less than an hour prior. I wanna start by asking you an oppressive amount of questions, and then maybe that advice will become more helpful. [,]  <A sequence of intense interrogation goes underway in a discrete ally: Not worth disclosing the specifics of, really. A bunch of questions pass until the juicy one finally arrives.> «So, this is it, huh?» There’s many it(s) you’ve been assessing to, so I’m unsure. «Just tell me what this tech is!» Well, the truth is I have a magical object with me that resembles something you’re familiar with: A note of proven merit that allows me access to any profession. I’m not a hustler — I’ve transcended that lifestyle a long time ago — I’m rather a cosmic agent sent here to experience every occupation created by humanity. «I think I believe you.» Ah, I know you want it, but you may not like my methods: I suck all I can out of a single experience, and then I float around in a state of purposelessness until the next fixation comes along. It’s a painful life few are willing to embody. «I’m ready for whatever it takes, including that. Finding you and asking for the elaboration I need has been on my mind since that day when I was young and you were younger. Angels came down upon me and guided me to this moment: I’m sure of it.» I was sure of a lot of other things too, but a lot of that assuredness just felt like it was filling a bigger longing. «I didn’t come here for doubts! I came here for the opposite of that… whatever that is, and you’re that.» Yeah, yeah, I’m not planning on adding “guru” to the list of occupations. «You’re dragging me out to reach a conclusion: That’s what I feel inside of me, right?» Ah-hah, you’re starting to realize now! «I turned myself into my own means!»

[astralfrontier]

I might be playing in an Earthdawn 1st Edition game soon. To help other people in that game with character creation, I’m creating a sample PC and talking about the whys and hows of it.

The steps for character creation are given in “Creating a Character”, p. 44. We’ll simplify the steps into three areas. In “Earthdawn”, artistic and creative endeavours are integral to the setting and every character has some kind of creative hobby, so we’ll talk about those as well as mechanics.

Discipline and Race

“Discipline” is Earthdawn’s name for what other games call “character class” or “profession”. In Earthdawn, a Discipline is more than that. It includes a worldview, philosophy, and artistic or aesthetic skills.

You should pick a Discipline that embodies the fighting or magical style you like. Our sample character will be the Archer, who (obviously) centers around shooting stuff with a bow and arrow.

Disciplines come with restrictions on racial selection. For example, Obsidimen cannot be Archers.

Each Discipline comes with a list of important attributes. You can pick any legal race, but if you don’t have a strong story reason for one race over the others, pick the race with bonuses in most of these attributes. For example, the Archer favors Dexterity and Perception, which Elves have bonuses in. So our race is Elf.

Aside from that, we can note down a few details:

Disciplines have artisan skills. For Archer, that’s Arrow Fletching, Rune Carving, and Sculpture.

Disciplines have Talents, which are quasi-magical abilities arranged in “Circles” (the character level of Earthdawn). We’ll buy Talents later, but for now, note that the Archer has these First Circle Talents: Avoid Blow, Direction Arrow, Karma Ritual, Missile Weapons, Mystic Aim, and True Shot.

The archer has a specific karma ritual, used by the Karma Ritual talent. We’ll skip this for now.

We’ll say that this particular archer uses the Rune Carving artisan skill to create stories about important battles. The runes are shaped and interconnected in such a way as to suggest a blowing breeze or wind, literally carrying the words of the story from start to finish.

Attributes and Characteristics

There are six attributes:

Dexterity: your agility, speed, grace, and so on.

Strength: muscle, physical power

Toughness: grit, endurance, stamina, health

Perception: your ability to notice and realize things

Willpower: your strength of will, your ego, and magical potential

Charisma: charm, force of personality, ability to influence

Aside from Perception and Willpower, these map pretty closely to the familiar D&D attributes.

There’s two ways to pick attributes: point-buy or random-roll. The game recommends point-buy, and I prefer it anyway.

You start with 66 purchase points (PP) and spend these on your six attributes. You can see the prices on the table on p. 48. The average attribute is a 10, and human maximum is 18 or so. Some character concepts make more sense with stats under 10, and some races (like Windlings) have big penalties on some stats as well.

The description of your Discipline has important attributes. Your goal should be to have a 16-18 in at least one of these attributes, and 13-16 at least one other.

To simplify this process, we’ll use a spreadsheet I created that helps you allocate points. You can click on File > Make A Copy to create your own copy.

Elves add +2 to Dexterity, +1 to Perception, Willpower, and Charisma, and subtract 2 from Toughness. Characters cannot also start below 2 or above 18. With these limitations in mind, we fiddle with our point buy allocation and arrive at these numbers: Dexterity 18, Strength 13, Toughness 12, Perception 14, Willpower 12, Charisma 13 (including racial bonuses and penalties).

Each of your attributes values has a step number and action die. These come from the table on p. 50. This gives us: Dexterity 16 (step 7, 1d12), Strength 13 (step 6, 1d10), Toughness 12 (5, 1d8), Perception 14 (6, 1d10), Willpower 12 (5, 1d8), Charisma 13 (6, 1d10).

Once you’ve figured out your attributes, we’ll use those to calculate your characteristics. We’re going to camp out on the table on p. 52 for awhile, to fill in the following values:

Armor:

PHysical Armor: this is based on equipment, so we’ll calculate it later.

Mystic Armor: from the table, based on your Willpower attribute value. Our Willpower is 12, so this is 1.

Damage: these are all based on Toughness.

Death Rating: Our Toughness is 12, so we have a 34.

Wound Threshold: 9.

Unconsciousness 26.

Recovery Tests: 2 per day.

Defense:

Physical Defense: based on Dexterity. For us, this is 10.

Spell Defense: based on Perception. For us, this is 8.

Social Defense: based on Charisma. For us, this is 7.

Initiative: this is equal to the step number of your Dexterity. We saw earlier that Dex 18 is step 7, so that’s also our Initiative.

Carrying and Lifting: based on Strength. We have 105/210 lbs.

Movement is complicated. First, look at the table on p. 53 for racial adjustments, then back on the table on p. 52 for your movement. For example, as an Elf, we move as Dexterity + 1. Our final Dexterity is 18, so our Movement is based on the table as though we had 19. That’s 90/45 yards per round, depending on whether we’re moving at full speed, or tactically moving during combat.

Several races have abilities that can modify these values. Our Elf has Low-Light Vision, but if (for example) we’d chosen a Windling, we’d modify our Physical Defense up by 2.

We’re happy with our Elf Archer so far. But what if we wanted to create something more unique? Perhaps this Archer character is blind, but wears an enchanted blindfold across their face that lets them see into astral space full time. In this case, we’d trade the ‘Low-Light Vision’ feature Elves have for the ‘Astral Sensitive Sight’ feature from Windlings. In some cases, this might be accepted if it sounds cool and enhances the character’s story. In others, a player might want the change for mechanical reasons, or the GM might not be comfortable overriding the rules.

Talents, Skills, and Equipment

Remember the list of Talents we wrote down earlier? Let’s assign ranks to those now. We get to assign 8 total ranks to our talents, a maximum of 3 per Talent. Talents are described on p. 92.

Avoid Blow: a Dexterity-based defense. We’ll assign 2 ranks to this.

Direction Arrow: a utility Talent for locating people. We’ll skip this one for now.

Karma Ritual: we’ll assign 1 point, giving us a vehicle for turning Legend Points (our XP) into Karma (our luck dice).

Missile Weapons: our primary attack as an archer. 3 ranks.

Mystic Aim: a neat way of increasing accuracy. 2 ranks.

True Shot: we’ll skip this one, but maybe come back to it once we know more about Karma.

If you are creating a magician character, be sure to have ranks in Spellcasting, Thread Weaving, and Spell Matrix. All three of these are core to your ability to make magic happen.

Your list of skills is shorter. Start with 1 rank in one of the Artisan skills listed under your Discipline, and 1 rank in a language. All characters also speak Dwarven for free. See p. 57 for more details on languages.

Aside from these, pick one or two Knowledge skills from the list on p. 125. If you pick one, your rank in that one skill is 2. If you pick two skills, your rank in each is 1.

Our elf will speak Sperethiel (the Elven language) and Dwarven, have 1 rank in Runic Carving as an artisan skill, and have two Knowledge skills: Barsaive Geography, and Legends and Heroes. Our Archer wants to walk in the footsteps of the heroes of old and share their own story along the way, in subtle ways.

For equipment, spend your 120 silver pieces on gear. Equipment is listed on p. 248. It’s recommended that you pick at least one piece of armor, one weapon, and some kind of practical equipment (such as healing or adventuring gear). Once you know what armor you’re wearing, and if you have a shield, update your Physical Armor characteristic.

Our Archer starts with a Longbow (60sp), 40 arrows (20sp), a quiver (2sp), leather armor (10sp), and a dagger (8cp). This gives us a Physical Armor rating of 3. We also buy Peasant’s Garb (12cp), an Adventurer’s Kit (15 sp), and a week’s worth of trail rations (10sp). This leaves us with a single silver piece in our pocket, as well as no tools with which to do our runic carvings - something we’ll want to buy soon, perhaps after actually achieving a deed worth recording?

Many things in Barsaive are ritually named. Our Archer names their bow “Zephyr”.

There are several other questions that will help flesh out your character, starting on p. 59. We’ll assign our Archer the Idealistic hidden trait, and the Reserved surface trait. They want to be a great hero! But they recognize they aren’t there yet, and stay humble as a result.