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#ic / self para.
milonavarroo · 2 months
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IC TASK 006: INTERROGATIONS III
There was a long back and forth conversation between Milo, his father, his lawyer, and his publicity team. That whatever the FBI wanted wasn't actually an 'interrogation' or so they were saying, so they didn't need a legal team in there with them. It was clearly an interrogation, of course. Milo tried to tell them this. But it didn't matter. The last time he was in there with the police it went terribly and his lawyer had been there too. So, perhaps, it wouldn't even matter, and he should just do it himself. Show everyone that he had nothing to worry about. Milo thought that was naive bullshit. They all had something to worry about, but there wasn't much he could share with those people to make them understand that.
Eventually Milo relented and agreed to show up without a lawyer. It seemed like a stupid idea. He was already on the law enforcement shit list, but what the fuck could he do about it? Only answer the questions they ask. Don't give them more than you have to. Think before you speak. It all seemed so easy.
"Mr. Navarro, it's nice to see you again," one of the detectives said and motioned to the table, "please take a seat. Would you like something to drink?"
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"No, thank you," Milo said, as he sat down, resting his hands on the table in front of him, though the detectives remained standing and looking down at him. He had done a lot of interviews in his life. This was not an interview. "I'd rather just get this over with, I have a lot I have to do today."
"Okay," the detective said, a polite smile on their face, "then let's jump right in. What was your relationship like with Greer Morrison?"
Milo pulled a face. As if they didn't know. "We were tennis partners," Milo said, then after a short pause he continued, "friends…"
“Are you aware of any information about Greer Morrison that has come to light in the past year that you haven’t shared?“
"No."
There was a pause on the Agents end, as if they expected him to say more, but he didn't. Milo wasn't even sure he did know more. There was a lot being thrown around. But who was a reliable source? Certainly not fucking G. As far as Milo was concerned he wasn't aware of jack shit. So, they got a simple answer, and after the small pause, thankfully the agents continued on.
"Have you witnessed anything suspicious on campus over the past year and a half?"
"No."
They must have expected the short answers now, because there was little to no pause afterwards. Even if the next question they asked seemed to hit Milo like a brick wall.
"Did you have any reason to suspect Greer Morrison was dead before this news came to light?"
Something tightened in Milo's chest, and like his heart jumped into his throat. He stared up at the Detectives for what felt like too long. Milo didn't know why he was so shocked by the question, but it wasn't easy to hear it laid out so plainly like that. Like they knew for sure Greer was dead now. He blinked a few times, before shaking his head as if trying to sort through his thoughts. "I don't know. She'd been gone for over a year without anyone seeing her. I think we all suspected she could be dead, sure."
"What was your relationship with Penelope Klein and Ida Clarke?"
There was a deep frown that crossed Milo's face, before he attempted to school his expression into something less effected. "Ida and I were friends, but I didn't really know Penny much."
"What were you doing when Ms. Klein's body was found?"
Hadn't he already answered this question for Donovan Hart? Did these people not speak to each other? Milo had to struggle hard to not roll his eyes, or say something in regards to how they should already know this. Or ask them what they were actually doing on their job. "I was locked in the kitchen pantry with Ollie Inoue." He said. "The power went out and we were stuck in there for hours." At least it had felt like hours.
“What do you know about the nature of Greer’s relationship with Penelope Klein?”
"Nothing." He hadn't even been aware they'd had a relationship until the end of the year…
"What were you doing when Ms. Clarke's body was found?"
"I was attempting to escape a burning building unharmed, I suppose," he said with a very sarcastic casual tone. He had not managed to escape a burning building unharmed. In fact the school was fucking lucky he hadn't pressed charges or something. These questions were wearing his patience down so quickly. He wished he had taken the offer of something to drink, just to give himself something to occupy his hands with. Instead he clenched his hands tightly into fists. Holding the tension he was feeling tightly there. God, he hoped this was almost over.
“You were at the Commons the night of the fire? Do you know why students even were there when they should’ve been at the Commencement Gala?“
He did roll his eyes at that question, and shrugged his shoulders. "Some anonymous bitch texted me and told me to go there, same as everyone else, I guess." There was no way they couldn't already know that. Not if they really had looked through Samantha's phone.
"So, over the past year you have gotten anonymous messages? Any threatening ones? Or any with…leading information?”
Fuck. He sighed deeply, like he was disappointed in his own self, and wondering how the fuck he was supposed to answer that. "Have you ever seen Gossip Girl?" He finally said, looking between the officers. Only one of them seemed to know what he was talking about. Good lord… "It's just a bunch of made up bullshit. But it's better to just … know what's going on than ignore it."
"What was the nature of your relationship with Samantha Jimenez?"
"I didn't know her," he said, though a moment later he changed his mind, deciding to be just a touch more honest. He didn't think there was any reason not to be. "She's friends with someone I have a history with. We talked a few times." And then even though he should have left it at that. "She's not the one who was sending out messages. We're still getting them."
"Are you?"
Milo pressed his lips into a thin line, letting a silence stretch between them, until he spoke again. "I think I'm finished here," he said, a very fake and forced smile crossing his face as he stood up, "I can go, right? I'm not being held?" The Agent's looked between each other. He couldn't tell if they were annoyed, if they were disappointed, if they just didn't want to be here at all… But either way they let him go. Carefully Milo stood up from his seat and walked passed them without another word.
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chaosmultiverse · 9 months
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"...I don't know what to give everyone for Christmas... I don't... Know where to get stuff, and the snow would make it hard to get plants... Hm."
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ollieinoue · 1 year
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IC TASK 005: THE HART OF THE MATTER
One moment Ollie had said he thought this was a stupid idea that he wasn't going to participate in, that there was no way this was for anyone's benefit other than making money off Ogden student's pain and trauma. But of course the Dean would sign off on this. The next moment he was sitting in a chair across from Jesse's dad, blinking rapidly at him like he must have just shown up out of no where. It wasn't the first time Ollie had ended up somewhere and had no idea how he got there, nor would it be the last, but fuck if this wasn't a terrible time to have that happen. He felt a bubble of panic rise in his chest until it felt like it was threatening to close his throat.
"I don't think I should be here..."
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Who signed off on this?
Ollie was halfway standing up when a glass of water had been shoved into his hands by some underpaid assistant, or intern who did not have the time to deal with what they imagined was probably stage fright, and not a panic attack from someone who was completely blitzed out of their mind. Then there was a firm hand on his wrist, that Ollie's eyes followed, hand arm, shoulder, oh that was connected to Jesse's dad. Suddenly he was glued to the chair underneath the man's gaze. Oof. Ollie had been around the block a few times in his life, he'd dealt with a lot of really bad people. He knew an evil person when he saw one - and he wasn't just biased from everything he'd inferred from the very brief conversation he'd had with Jesse about his dad, either. This man was an asshole. He didn't even have to open his mouth, and Ollie already did not like him.
"Don't be nervous."
He was in the midst of denial, nearly shaking his head, and the tongue on the roof of his mouth. No, he wasn't nervous. That was not the problem. Before he could however Jesse's dad was already turning towards some person behind the cameras.
"Let's start."
Fuck...
“It’s a tough year to be a student at Ogden College with the tragic passing of Penelope Klein. And of course, we can’t forget the ongoing missing persons case surrounding beloved student, Greer Morrison. I know that Dean Zuko insisted on free on-campus counseling set up for all students. Have you made use of it?”
Ollie stared. Eyes wide, and mouth slightly open, letting the silence hang between them for a number of seconds that could have turned into minutes, that could have turned into hours, that could have turned into days for all he knew. It felt like that long. Long enough he wasn't even sure of what the question had been anymore. Long enough he wasn't sure where he was again, until he took another few moments to look around and get his barrings. Oh, right. Fuck.
"Mr. Inoue...?"
His head snapped back towards Jesse's dad. Fuck. Okay. Time to force his brain to work. "Is that not what this is?" Ollie asked, smiling as sweetly as he possibly could. And he spoke with so much heart felt sincerity that he had to almost pause and ask himself if he might be a little bit psychotic. "I've been waiting for you to come save us all, Jesse's Dad."
He swore he saw something glint in the man's eye, but not enough to stop him, unfortunately. Very unfortunately.
“There was that nasty storm that knocked out the power at the resort, I remember. That got a little dicey, huh? Parents and staff all congregated in the faculty chalet, but you kids were on the other side of the resort ..."
Ollie gave a silent tilt of his head, furrowing his eyebrows. That wasn't true was it? Was he completely misremembering what Link had told him when they'd gotten back to the dorms? He was extremely high at the present moment, so he really didn't feel confident enough to ask any questions. All he could really do was sport a confused look on his face as Jesse's dad continued speaking.
"... We’ve been told that Penelope organized some things for people to complete to make it through that night together. Were you one of them? What did you get up to during the blackout?”
"I cut my hair," he said, a bright smile chasing away the questioning look he'd given Jesse's dad. He bounced a little excited in his seat, as he brought his hand up to fiddle with his fringe. "I gave myself bangs. During the blackout. Which is pretty daring. But I like to live on the edge. -- but you mean when ... Right." Ollie visibly wilted, chewing on his bottom lip. "Uh, Penny told me to go with Milo Navarro to check how full the supplies in the kitchen pantry were. Just in case we got snowed in, I guess. What about you guys over in your chalet? Did you go anywhere? N-no? Okay..." They were moving on, he guessed he wasn't getting the answers to his own questions. 
“In the wake of tragedy, it can be hard to recall things in detail. The brain has its own ways of protecting itself in high-stress situations, and I know that the police have been a near-constant presence on campus this year. This is not that; I want you to feel safe and comfortable enough to share whatever you want about that night. Did you see anything? Hear anything?”
There is something in the words that Jesse's dad said, that made Ollie want to pull his knees up to his chest and curl into the fetal position. Something bubbling in his stomach that made the panic rise in him again, threatening to burst out. This had to be among the top ten times he'd felt the most unsafe in his life. "No, I didn't see, or hear anything. Me and Milo got locked in the pantry and weren't let out until after-" his throat closed briefly and Ollie felt like he was choking on his words. He left them there. Until After...
“Obviously, we all want to get to the bottom of this and work through whatever lingering effects it might have left behind. If you were paired off with anyone that night, can you remember what they were doing? Would it have been possible that they might have been behind anything you saw?"
He gave a sound halfway between a scoff and a snort. "No," Ollie stated, confident in that at the very least. "Like I said we were locked in a tiny little pantry together. Milo was within touching distance of me the entire time."
“Now, if you’ll direct your attention to this screen here, I have something that— barring appropriate authorities— no one has seen until now.” A picture of Greer suddenly appears on screen, all eyes trained on this new piece of information. All eyes but Donovan’s which are locked onto the face of the person he’s interviewing, watching for any and every reaction. “This photo is shocking, I know. It was found in the faculty chalet the night of the blackout. Do you know anything about the day it was taken or who might have taken it?”
Ollie stared up at the photograph struck to a very long silence again. His eyes wide, and mouth open once more. He felt the bubbling in his stomach again, like he was going to be sick. Part of him wished he would be, just lean forward and vomit all over stupid Jesse's dad's lap. But instead he swallowed the burning in his throat, eyes darting back to the man sitting in front of him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He snapped. "Why the fuck do you think it would be a good idea to show that picture to anybody? Are you showing it to the people who have known her since they were children? Her fucking siblings? Oh, I guess it's more important to re-traumatize a bunch of people for the views. Do you have a pic of Penny's dead body too? Fuck off." 
“Do you have any idea why this photo might have been left with faculty that night? Or, most pressing, what reason someone could have for vandalizing it in such a horrible way?”
"I don't know, Jesse's Dad, aren't you the psychology professional? Why don't you tell me?"
"Finally, it's been discovered that Penelope, shortly before her untimely death, had mentioned to someone that she knew why Greer had left. Do you think that has anything to do with this photo? Do you know why she might have left? Even though being honest about it may seem scary, I promise you, it's the right thing to do. It's the only way we can protect you."
Ollie let out an angry noise in the back of his throat, "protect me from what? From Dean Zuko who is more than happy to take a fucking kickback to exploit his students if that means he gets more money from you? Nah," he said, laughing as he reached up pulling at the microphone that had been clipped onto his shirt. "Fuck that. You want to know why Greer left? Probably to get away from this bullshit school." He continued to struggle with the mic, swatting away an assistant who came over to maybe help, or maybe stop him. Eventually he managed to toss it down onto the ground. "Don't worry about 'protecting me' I hope I'm fucking next. If it means I don't have to deal with assholes like you, and the Dean anymore."
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morrisxn02 · 1 year
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-– task 001: initial sit downs
september, 2022.
When the police knocked on the door labeled 205C, they were met with a jagged and weak figure. The Edward Morrison that roamed the halls of Ogden that September was a ghost of the man everyone knew. A slender, feeble creature that only had one thing in his mind. Greer. The NYPD had already interrogated him but since this was a cross-jurisdiction case, he had been oriented by the Morrisons' attorney that he might need to talk to the New Hampshire police once again. He did not want to waste much time, so he just let them into the compulsively organized lair that was his bedroom, clean and cataloged like a hospital. "You can have the chairs if you wish." He told the officer. His answers had been practically pre-scripted; pre-approved by the family attorney, albeit sincere. So he knew that would not take long. But it would be just as confusing as hurtful as the first time. (...) In retrospect, to honestly answer the policewoman’s question he would have to admit that he might not know Greer at all. But then again, who the hell did?
“When did you last speak to Greer?”
“July 3rd.” His answer doesn’t take a heartbeat. He had texted her again the following day, but there was no reply on her side – something awfully unusual when it came to their chat. They wouldn’t take too long to reply to each other because they were each other’s emergency contact, and it was a sort of unspoken rule between the two that a text ignored for too long should prompt some preoccupation. “About 11 pm.” He unlocked his phone and handed it to the police officer. He knew cops in Manhattan already had that information, but he knew nothing about how jurisdictions worked, so he figured he would just rephrase the answers he had given the NYPD when they interrogated his family. He had nothing to be afraid of, anyway.
“When did you last actually see Greer?”
“The day before. July 2nd. I was driving down to our beach house that day to spend the 4th with a couple of friends. I asked her if she wanted to tag along, and she said no.” He refrained from elaborating because he had already told that story a thousand times, and then replayed it in his head another thousand just to find a loophole, something he could’ve done differently.
“How well did you know Greer?”
Dumbfounded, he says nothing for a second. Sure, this must be a procedural question like all the other ones, but it seems redundant and absurd and it’s almost offensive. “I like to think I know her very well.” He responds on autopilot, though when he stops to think about it, he notices how vague that answer really is. “I mean, we grew up together, we have a lot of the same friends, we are fairly close…” The blandness of his answer reflects his own relationship with Greer. They worked well together, like two birds of the same feather. But their siblinghood was very… complicated to say the least. Yes, they enjoy each other’s company, have their own inside jokes, and even talk about the people they go out with, but there is so much he hides from her. So much he hides from everyone. And he knows Greer is very much like him. There is so much she hides from everyone. Especially from him. So, although he loves and cares for her, and she might even feel the same, he never trusted her. It could even be said that their relationship sometimes borders sort of a transaction. A favor for a favor. A lie for a lie. A secret for a secret. Greer has been a cobweb of favors and lies and secrets since she was born. And to honestly answer the policewoman’s question he would have to admit that he might not know Greer at all. But then again, who the hell did?
“What was your relationship with Greer like?”
Well, that was an easier question. One he had a prompted answer for. “We are close. We hang out with somewhat similar crowds and just generally hang out with each other. We get along.”
“Have you heard or seen anything about where she was this summer?”
“Not at all. As I said, we were supposed to spend the 4th together but she just– disappeared.” He had a hard time talking about it still. No matter how objective and pragmatic he was, talking about your missing sister probably gives everyone, even the most rational person alive, a hard time.    
The officer thanks him as she gets up, trying to sound understanding, almost as if her pity would do him any good. He thanks her in return, again on autopilot – though he cannot wait to be alone again – and closes the door after she walks out. Yet again he finds himself wondering if there was something else he could have said. Something that could have helped her. Or himself. Because, at this point, everyone was a suspect, and he was well aware.
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lupuscrme · 1 year
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tag drop.
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futurefind · 1 year
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"...I don't need to 'relax.'"
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brokentruths · 2 years
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ooc  .  .  .
☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟎.  ↳  kay  speaks  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟏.  ↳  thread  ;  one  liner  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟏.  ↳  thread  ;  para  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟏.  ↳  thread  ;  novella  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟏.  ↳  thread  ;  short  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟐.  ↳  prompts  ;  ic  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟐.  ↳  prompts  ;  ooc  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟑.  ↳  shipping  call  ;  any  muse  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟑.  ↳  plotting  call  ;  any  muse  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟑.  ↳  starter  call  ;  any  muse  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟑.  ↳  inbox  call  ;  any  muse  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟒.  ↳  desired  plots  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟒.  ↳  desired  dynamics  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟓.  ↳  reblog  ;  promotion  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟓.  ↳  reblog  ;  announcement  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟔.  ↳  self  ;  promotion  . ☾  —  𝟎𝟎𝟔.  ↳  self  ;  reblog  .
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veinsfullofstars · 7 months
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⭐ Memories of friendship ⭐
(ID: Kirby series fanart, Childhood Friends AU, featuring young Dedede, Meta, Para Dee, and Bow Dee hanging out and interacting in various cute and silly scenarios. More detailed descriptions and bonus headcanons under the cut. END ID.)
Just a buncha li’l guys. The littlest of lads. I could literally fill pages with all the wholesome slice-of-life nonsense I have in mind for these kids (and maybe the smallest touch of angst, too, but that’s for later). Also might’ve made DDD’s overalls a little brighter to match his coat in the future. Also made refs for Para and Bow.
UPDATE 03/11/24: Added a few misc. details.
Sketches started btw 11/23 and 12/23, render started 12/13/23, finished 01/07/24. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 01/08/23.
Image descriptions
Top-left: Meta carrying DDD by his hands and lifting him (with great difficultly) into the air (probably only a few inches off the ground), the latter laughing happily and kicking his feet, the former grimacing with effort and flapping his little wing as hard as he can.
(HC: Even at a young age, Meta is built more for dexterity than strength, and DDD isn’t exactly as light as the rest of his buddies - not that it stops either of them from doing something dumb in the name of a dare.)
Top-middle: Meta and Para holding open a large book between them (the image of Planet Popstar on the cover), reading and discussing its contents (as indicated by a wall of blue and green “Blah”s behind them), while Bow (slumped on Meta’s side) and Dedede (reclining back on Para’s side) are both fast asleep from boredom.
(HC: Needless to say, Meta and Para are huge nerds, often seen checking out half a dozen books at at time from the local library and finishing them before the week is out. Bow and DDD try to be interested, but they just don’t have the attention spans for huge walls of tech jargon and dusty old history.)
Top-right: Para floating with his parasol (patterned the same green-and-brown plaid as his bowtie), sweating and kicking his feet wildly, looking down in terror; Meta hovers nearby on his wings, looking on in surprise at his panicking friend.
(HC: Despite his proficiency, Para rarely uses his parasol for anything besides keeping himself dry in the rain. He is deathly afraid of heights and has gotten himself stuck in trees more than once thanks to his buddies’ daredevil antics.)
Middle-right: Bow - angered by something off-screen - furiously kicking and flailing about, her face red with rage, as DDD casually holds her up off the ground by the top of her head, looking annoyed and bored.
(HC: It doesn’t take a lot to set Bow off. Despite her tiny size, she can be an absolute terror when she’s upset about something, and the boys know this well. DDD is often the one to hold her back when she gets too rowdy, a role he’s not particularly thrilled to have. Stars help anyone in her line of sight if no one’s around to calm her down.)
Middle: Meta and DDD sitting side-by-side, the former in a rare excitable mood as he fidgets and chatters on about all kinds of things (indicated by several word bubbles with images inside, including ice cream, swords, bats, planets, stars, rockets, and Galacta Knight’s mask); DDD listens with surprising patience, a fond (if somewhat exasperated) smile on his face.
(HC: Meta is usually a very quiet kid, his silence filled by DDD being his typical boisterous self. Sometimes, though, when they’re just hanging out by themselves, Meta will find an opening - usually provided by DDD - and go off on tangents as random and hyper-focused as his more talkative buds. Not many people get to see him this animated or comfortable, and DDD - who’s seen them the most - cherishes these moments, even if it’s embarrassing to admit.)
Bottom-left: DDD dashing to our left, a determined grin on his face, as his friends ride Piggyback on his back - first Meta, wings out and free arm waving in excitement, then Para, clinging desperately to Meta with a look of panic on his face, and finally Bow, hanging off of Para and laughing merrily.
• (HC: DDD is always dragging his friends into one crazy scheme or another, usually at a full-tilt sprint and without much forethought beyond “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Meta is often swept up in the excitement, too curious and eager to learn to worry much about danger. Para is the embodiment of “I don’t know about this, guys…” but too lenient to really stop them. Bow will literally follow the boys off of a cliff as long as there’s fun to be had.)
Bottom-right: Bow, DDD, and Meta sitting in the grass surrounded by butterflies (their bodies black and wings white with dark edges, save one in the back with yellow wings rimmed in orange and red). One lands on DDD’s beak, and he pokes at it curiously, staring cross-eyed. Bow trembles behind him, staring at the butterfly in watery-eyed terror over his shoulder. Meta tilts his head to look at her with an expression of bemused concern, a butterfly settled on his foot.
(HC: Bow will tell you she isn’t afraid of anything. In many cases, this is true. She will routinely stare down threats ten times her size and promise to beat them up on the spot before someone more rational pulls her out of harm’s way. But, if there is a bug anywhere in her immediate vicinity, she will absolutely run for the hills. DDD used to tease her about this, hiding bugs in his hands to scare her. He stopped as soon as she started panic-smacking him.)
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toon-topaz · 7 months
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I’m so obsessed with the details of the names for your lethal company au. My favorites are Para’s last name being Cassandre (nobody listens to her or believes what she sees like Cassandra’s prophesies), Cheated being Ches Bishop (that one’s kinda obvious but still really clever) and Hero’s last name being Brine (herobrine……..)
Hehehe I'm glad you noticed the symbolism, and yeah lol the Hero-brine stuff was a joke from my server that I ran with. Some bonus ones: Smitten - Philip, from the greek philos, meaning love Cold - Verglas Givral, basically derived from a couple french words for ice or frost Opportunist - Quicksilver, another term for mercury, from the god Mercury aka Hermes, god of merchants and trickery, among other things Stubborn - Striker March, from roman god Mars, god of war (striker is self explanatory lol)
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dale-gekarios · 8 months
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Latin Spell chants for BG3
I did not make this list! It was made by ExoZilla in r/BaldursGate3 but I wanted to share it here! This list is from early access, so it only has up to level 2 spells, but honestly the chants stay similar for higher level spells. Some of these might have also changed since EA so take that with a grain of salt, anywhere here’s the original post:
Disclaimer: I do not speak Latin. Some of my spelling/translations/syntax are going to be wrong. Most of them are from Wikipedia, random websites, and context clues. Also, if anyone knows the chants I wasn't able to translate/translate correctly, feel free to correct me.
Cantrips:
Fire Bolt- Ignis (Fire)
Ray of Frost- Glacies (Ice)
Acid Splash- Acido (Acid)
Blade Ward/Guidance/Thaumaturgy- Maior et Fortior ("Greater and Stronger")
Chill Touch- Timere ("Be afraid!")
Dancing Lights/Light/Produce Flame- Fiat Lux/Sol Invictus (“Let there be light”/“Unconquered sun”)
Eldritch Blast- Dolor* (Mental/Physical Pain)
Mage Hand- Veni et iuva me ("Come and help me!")
Poison Spray- Venenum (Poison)
Resistance- Resisto ("I resist")
Sacred Flame- Incende ("Set fire!")
Shillelagh/Flame Blade- Para bellum/Canto te ("prepare for war"/"I enchant you”)
Shocking Grasp- Fulgor (Levin or flash)
Thorn Whip- Flagellum, Flagello/ ?? verum (to flagellate, whip/"?? sweep")
True Strike- N/A
Friends- N/A
1st level Spells:
Armor of Agathys/Barkskin/Bless/Enhance Ability/Jump/Mage Armor/Shield of Faith- Macte virtute ("Be blessed with virtue")
Arms of Hadar/Inflict Wounds- Morere ("Die!")
Animal Friendship- Obedi me/Obeus temeum lupum ("Obey me"/??)
Bane/Ray of Enfeeblement- Tu est nihil (“You are nothing”)
Burning Hands/Scorching Ray- Ardere (To burn)
Charm Person- Impero te/Tempora muntante ("I rule you”/“Temporary change”?)
Color Spray/Blindness- Te occludo oculos/Caecus te("I blind your eyes"/"I blind you")
Command/Ensnaring Strike/Sleep- Impero tibi (“I rule you”)
Create Water- Lues/Aqua pura (Plague, pestilence?/“Clean water”)
Cure Wounds/Healing Word- Te curo/Vis medicatrix* (“I cure you”/"healing power")
Destroy Water- Arescere/Arere decimos ("Become dry"/"Become ten times as dry"?)
Disguise self- Mutatis mutandis/Omnia mutatio (“With things changed that should be changed”/“Change it all”)
Dissonant Whispers- Dolor ("Mental/Physical Pain")
Entangle- Voco vinae/Vinum est et gloriat ("I call forth vines"/??)
Faerie Fire- Te video/Ubi est ("I see you”/“Where are you?”)
False Life/Aid- Vitae extollato/Dum vita est spes est ("Life raised"?/"While there is life, there is hope")
Feather Fall- Non fit injura/Se neme ("There will be no injury/harm"/??)
Find Familiar/Goodberry/Moonbeam- Ex textura (“Weave from the outside”?)
Fog Cloud- Voco nubes ("I call forth clouds")
Grease- Voco arvina ("I call forth grease")
Guiding Bolt- Facula/Flagra ("Little torch"/"Blaze/be inflamed")**
Hail of Thorns- Dia denum (??)
Hellish Rebuke/Flaming Sphere/Spike Growth- Ira et dolor ("Wrath and pain")
Hex- Maledicus/Te exsecror (Abusive, scurrilous/“I curse you”)
Hunter’s Mark- Est praedae mae/Mos certa (“You are my prey”/"Certain death"?)
Longstrider/Expeditious Retreat- Proprae/Ocior/Citium (??)
Magic Missile- Tormentum (a piece of artillery/missile)
Protection from Good and Evil- Tueor/vincit qui patitur (To watch over, protect/“he conquers who endures”)
Ray of Sickness- Inficio ("Infect")
Speak with Animals- Amicus animales/Loqui ut tibi placet (“friend of animals“/“To speak as you please”?)
Tasha’s Hideous Laughter- Rezum teniates??/Reza sabuntat?? (??)
Thunderwave/Shatter- Detono (Thunder/"Expend one's thunder")
Witch Bolt- Harures (??)
*Non-Tav/NPC exclusive line
2nd level spells:
Blur- Incomodo?/Nullus sui ("Inconvenient"?/"None of him/her/them")
Darkness- Tenebrum/Umbra (Darkness/Shadow)
Darkvision- Lux en tenebra/Secretum curaro (“Light in darkness”/??)
Detect Thoughts- Video veritatem/Virtus est scientia (“I see the truth”/“Virtue is knowledge”)
Hold Person- Non movere/Ad lapide (“You do not move”/“To stone!”)
Invisibility/Pass Without a Trace- Evanesco/Invisibilis (To vanish, disappear/ self-explanatory)
Lesser Restoration- Te absolvo/Vincere est vivere (“I absolve you”/“To conquer is to live”)
Melf’s Acid Arrow- Dissolvae (Self-explanatory)
Mirror Image- Fronte nulla vides/Mundus vult decipi ("No faith in the front"?/“The world wants to be deceived”)
Misty Step- Inveniam viam/Ad alibi (“I will find a way”/"To elsewhere")
Prayer of Healing- Fiat voluntas Dei/Ad maiorem Dei gloriam (“May God’s will be done”/“For the greater glory of God”)
Protection from Poison- Résistance venenum (“resist venom/poison”)
Silence- Silencio (Self-explanatory)
Web- Voco arenea ("I call forth a spider's web")
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asexual-disaster · 7 months
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‼️FHJY EP6 SPOILERS‼️
you know the drill!!!
you know how these start,, MURPH U LOOK SO GOOD (shout out to ur shirt again)
siobhan is also looking fantastic, i love her shirt
brennan is wearing THE shirt i love him
‘you’re doing a better job’ i go back to being invisible
milk and vodka
‘i feel like a bad baby’
i put his dice in the full moon; emily i love you
THE HELIO CLERIC
‘lord, helio?’ ‘yes it’s me’
the bad kids are so unhinged i’m sobbing
‘i know in his final moments he must have repented and,,’ ‘no.. no… he’s in hell now..’
‘our friend kristen was a big cornhead when we met’
riz not knowing half the clubs he’s side up for
‘adaine you can work the door at the next party’
‘damn hot dragonborn about to know your shit’
OISIN I LOVE YOU
FABIAN AND ADAINE BFF CRUMBS !!!
‘i’ll take a break when i break your fucking spine’
‘if your the crabking then i’m the fishermen’ ‘yeah these waters are restricted’ i live ragh and gorgug so much
ragh being so ready to talk about becoming a cleric of cassandra
why was figs first thought when entering fabian’s room to steal some of his clothes please
even just the mention of a para genasi has made me feral,, frost genasi is so fucking cool
OISIN AND IVY ARE IN THE RAT GRINDERS NO I LOVED THEM
kristen and fig are unhinged who lets them together
fetty wap at homecoming i’m crying
emily is so unhinged, what do you mean you’re disguise selfing as this random genasi to try and fuck with people
also other than the rat grinders playing the system; they aren’t even that bad a group. the members all seem okay (famous last words maybe)
the entire group immediately clocking Fig with ‘what if lucy is dead? why are you trying to impersonate their dead friend?’
the running bit about the steel factory is so funny
‘that’s the ice muffets’
i love mazey so so much
mr mulligan what do you have planned
drunk adaine is so so funny
GERTIE I LOVE U LITTLE BEEKEEPER FIRBOLG PLEASE IM SOBBING
the entire party helping Gertie against fabian
new nemesis alert
riz is absolutely spiralling with conspiracies i love him
you cannot go from all the chaos to a kristen/tracker moment please
‘tough but fair, have a great life’ kristen please god
LYDIA YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING GOOD IN LIFE !!!
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milonavarroo · 1 year
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IC TASK 005: THE HART OF THE MATTER
There was one reason Milo was here, and one reason only. And that was his own public image. News was spreading more and more outside of Ogden and the surrounding area about Greer being missing, about Penny's death. He'd started getting questions about it. Fans tweeting at him with questions - especially the ones who followed him closely enough to put together that 'Greer Morrison' was the girl who had been his tennis partner. He'd shared tons of pictures of them on his instagram. Sports reporters asking if he could give some insight on what was happening. Things like that. He hadn't, yet, of course. He thought it would be a really bad fucking idea. His team agreed as well. 
However, the more publicity this situation was getting the less he could remain silent on it. That was what his team had said. Especially with how poorly his interrogation with the police had gone. No one knew about it. Yet. But how long until they did? He had to get in front of this. Do this interview with a popular daytime TV personality and be on his best behavior. Make people sympathetic, and whatever the cops ended up saying, if they ever ended up saying anything, would not effect his public image. 
That was the plan. "Good afternoon," he said, as he took a seat across from Donovan Hart, a pleasant (and fake) smile on his face. He'd been doing things like this since he was about sixteen years old. This shouldn't be a problem. 
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“It’s a tough year to be a student at Ogden College with the tragic passing of Penelope Klein. And of course, we can’t forget the ongoing missing persons case surrounding beloved student, Greer Morrison. I know that Dean Zuko insisted on free on-campus counseling set up for all students. Have you made use of it?”
"I am already seeing somebody," Milo said, slowly, giving a bit of a smile. He had been seeing a therapist since he was 16 and his public image went into the toilet after throwing a tennis racket so hard into a fence it smashed. His PR agent told him he needed to make a show of 'getting better', so that was what he'd done. Turns out … he kinda fucking needed it, so he kept going even after the storm had passed. "Mental health is very important to me," at least that was the line he'd been given, "so, I think it's a great idea to offer it to students who are unable to see professionals out of pocket. I'm sure they've been busy." He doubted anybody who really needed the help was actually spending their time making use of any on campus counseling. Frankly, he wouldn't trust the people the Dean had hired for it anyway. He doubted they were really prepared for the problems that Ogden students had to offer.
“There was that nasty storm that knocked out the power at the resort, I remember. That got a little dicey, huh? Parents and staff all congregated in the faculty chalet, but you kids were on the other side of the resort. We’ve been told that Penelope organized some things for people to complete to make it through that night together. Were you one of them? What did you get up to during the blackout?”
"Yes, I was partnered with Ollie Inoue to go check the kitchen pantry for supplies," Milo explained. As long as he was being tossed these softball questions then maybe this wasn't going to be too terrible. He was getting the strong feeling Donovan Hart was phoning it in, anyway. "We didn't know how long any of this was going to last, and there was the possibility of us getting snowed in. So, Penny wanted to make sure that we were stocked up on food in case the worst happened."
“In the wake of tragedy, it can be hard to recall things in detail. The brain has its own ways of protecting itself in high-stress situations, and I know that the police have been a near-constant presence on campus this year. This is not that; I want you to feel safe and comfortable enough to share whatever you want about that night. Did you see anything? Hear anything?”
Yes. Milo didn't say that though. But yes, he had heard something. He'd heard footsteps, and he heard someone closing the door on him and Ollie to lock them in the pantry together. He thought about it often. What was the real reason for that? Had somebody been trying to make sure there was no possibility of witnesses for whatever happened to Penny? Milo hadn't mentioned any of those thoughts though, because … Well, he didn't want to get involved. And the last person he was going to tell about it was Donovan fucking Hart. "No," Milo said with a casual smile, "Ollie can be pretty chatty, so mostly I just heard him talking."
“Obviously, we all want to get to the bottom of this and work through whatever lingering effects it might have left behind. If you were paired off with anyone that night, can you remember what they were doing? Would it have been possible that they might have been behind anything you saw?
"Not possible," Milo said, simply. Not even in any stretch of the imagination. "Ollie and I weren't let out of the pantry until the lights turned back on. We were together the whole time."
“Now, if you’ll direct your attention to this screen here, I have something that— barring appropriate authorities— no one has seen until now.” A picture of Greer suddenly appears on screen, all eyes trained on this new piece of information. All eyes but Donovan’s which are locked onto the face of the person he’s interviewing, watching for any and every reaction. “This photo is shocking, I know. It was found in the faculty chalet the night of the blackout. Do you know anything about the day it was taken or who might have taken it?”
Milo was not the sort of person who hid his feelings well. That made the fact he'd been strong armed into this interview by his team extremely unfortunate, because he was supposed to be making himself look good in the court of public opinion. It didn't matter what the police thought if everyone else thought he was an innocent bystander. Which he was! But it meant that he had to keep his anger in check. He knew how these things went. He knew how much in interviews ended up on the cutting room floor just to show what the producers and people in charge wanted to show. Milo knew how these things always went, which was why he hadn't wanted to do this in the first place. Unfortunately here he was, and now he just had to make sure that he didn't give them anything that could be used against him in any way what so ever. 
There was a difference between knowing something intellectually, and being able to follow through with that thing, however. 
There was that hot feeling of anger that flashed through Milo. Outraged that anyone thought it was a good idea to do this. Show that picture, or do this interview. "How the fuck would I know?" Milo snapped. "Isn't more likely that you or one of the faculty members must have taken and vandalized it? If that's where it was found." Why was this on the shoulders of him, or his peers at all? 
“Do you have any idea why this photo might have been left with faculty that night? Or, most pressing, what reason someone could have for vandalizing it in such a horrible way?”
Milo glared at this joke of a fucking TV personality in front of him. "Ask. The. Faculty," he said through his teeth.
"Finally, it's been discovered that Penelope, shortly before her untimely death, had mentioned to someone that she knew why Greer had left. Do you think that has anything to do with this photo? Do you know why she might have left? Even though being honest about it may seem scary, I promise you, it's the right thing to do. It's the only way we can protect you."
'It's the only way we can protect you.' "What are you the fucking cops?" Milo snapped again, unable to help himself though he knew the moment it left his mouth it should not have. "This interview is over. I know bad faith questions when I hear them, I know when I'm being steamrolled. Don't fuck me with, Donovan." He said, standing up from his seat and heading about as far as he could get away before he was stopped by some staff to remove his mic, and whatever else they needed.
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chaosmultiverse · 9 months
Text
…And then there was a answer
"Intruder Alert: Rouge Hourglass"
"...Oh god I didn't go to a criminal for help, did I?" Stargazer asked himself, getting down and straightening himself up and walking to the door hesitantly, unsure if he should investigate or let them come to him.
Luckily he was spared from deciding by hearing behind him.
"You did, or well, will!" Her voice was cheerful and looking behind him he saw a short black woman, with long colorful locs, iridescent and shifting in colors, her eyes hidden behind large sunglasses with a old fashioned clock face on them both, right now they were reflecting the yellow of his eyes and of The Office.
"...I- Who are you even?"
"Oh right, I forgot you hadn't met me yet-"
"You've been using your powers in the space between universes! That's illegal!"
"...Duh, also right you haven't been on your character arc yet, you're still lawful neutral by D&D rules. Yes I am a criminal! And we will have a proper first meeting sooner rather than later & I will not like you and you will not like me but I swear we warm up to each other.
Either way! I am Entropy, and I will help you out with this… Shady but not out of your job description thing but I need you to promise me two things! Sound fair?" 
She was rocking back and forth on her feet, smiling at him still. She already knew how this went, damn Hour Glasses.
"...What do you want?"
"For you to not tell past me that you already met me or anything I have told you and… You have to promise you won't call in the law when you meet me again, 'kay?" He blinked, or well it more happened in a short enough time that he couldn't see it even with his non-human biology, and she was in front of him with a hand out to make a deal.
"You'll contain the ripped universes to alternate timelines?"
"Yup, if you agree to my request."
They took her hand and shaked.
"Fine, for the sake of the Chaos Cluster."
"And your need to be the one observing it!"
There was a sound above and they both looked up to one of Odyssey's speakers.
"I am going to delete the recording of what has happened and been said over the last twenty minutes." 
Stargazer looked rather embarrassed meanwhile Entropy just laughed to herself.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
"It appears that the rip in universe-427, sub universe: The Office is starting to effect some adjacent universes and make rips in them to, how are you going to proceed?" Odyssey asked, putting up around the observation room glimpses of objects from The Office reaching other universes.
"I… That universe has been rather troublesome as far as rips in reality goes, I don't know if I can actually… Repair these rips…" Stargazer muttered to himself, hand on his mouth & chin like a inquisitive statue, right now he was sitting cross legged in the air so he could see all the projections.
"We could call in someone higher in command, they could bring in the big guns and get this repaired-"
"Absolutely not, if they start to think I've bitten off more than I can chew they'll take me away from here! This is my cluster of the multiverse, I'm not giving it up to anyone, no one would love-" 
"Stargazer, but you can't chew this issue, we cannot not simply do nothing, while we have a no contact rule including for multiverse travelers this goes into multiverse infection easily, if the rip gets worse it could easily destroy several universes." Odyssey coldly reminded Stargazer, it was easy for him to forget from time to time that Odyssey was first a AI made by his employers and Odyssey second.
"...I know you love it, and want what's best for it, just remember just because you love something it doesn't mean you understand what it needs." Odyssey added, trying to be warmer.
Stargazer crossed his arms and sort of laid back until he was now upside down with his head poking up like how someone laying on a bed on their stomach would to look at the issues.
"...Idea, we isolate the versions of these universes that encountered the rip, split them off into their own universes, the "main" universes continue as normal and the "ripped" universes are contained in their own section so we can observe what follows. I mean we'll have to apply for Hourglass to come and help us with this which might be… An issue, they could report back whatever they want and I won't have recourse. It'd be my word vs theirs…"
Stargazer's words hung in the air… 
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ollieinoue · 2 years
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IC TASK 002: SPOOKY SCARY HAUNTED HOUSE
"You can't go in there with that lit."
"Come on, bro..." Ollie was fairly desensitized to horror, at best. You drop your fair share of acid and go on a few bad trips a haunted house isn't really going to terrify you all that much. So, the guy in charge of sending people in the front door dressed up as some sort of bloody ghost telling him to put out his joint for some reason was just not doing it for him. It could be the 'telling him to put out his joint' thing.
"Some of the residents that linger in this location are very old. We wouldn't want to set fire to their clothes, would we?"
He rolled his eyes, "yeah, yeah, I get it," Ollie muttered, reaching over and ashing out his joint on the side of the building. "Can I go now?"
"Do you want a bracelet?"
"Nah. Thanks, but I'm hoping someone kills me," Ollie said, holding his hand up and waving towards the guy over his shoulder as he made his way into the haunted house.
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The thing most people learned about Haunted Houses when they were younger was that the more scared you were, the more they were supposed to scare you. But if you didn't act scared at all, the more they were going to try to scare you. A lot of attempts were made as Ollie strolled through the darkened hallways, most at least elicited a flinch, and a laughed 'oh fuck you' reaction from him as he continued casually forward. He lingered in the weird chain hallway, hand reaching up and tugging on one of the chains, letting his fingers curl between the links before he was grabbed and tugged towards the wall. Some whispered threat of wrapping the chain around his neck gaining a lot more interest from him than it really should have. "Damn dude, what time do you get off work?" He heard a tsk in the back of the guy's throat, either in admonishment, or amusement Ollie didn't know, but he did let him go after that. Too bad.
After more casual wandering around the place, attempting to find his way out, Ollie eventually pulled his phone out, to use his flashlight. None of the spooky lighting really doing much for him, at least not doing much to help him find his way out. He was pretty sure he passed that creepy funhouse mirror shit at least three times. They really needed to take account of someone being stoned going through this place, it was like a maze. He'd have to complain to Mari about it, or something later. He made his way over towards a wall with a bunch of missing person's posters on it, he dragged his light along them with mild interest. How edgy. A thoughtful noise coming from his mouth before he turned his phone and took a selfie in front of them. "Nice..." Ollie laughed to himself as he continued onwards.
About ten minutes after that, Ollie was getting the feeling he was never going to get out of here, and resorted to opening every door he managed to come across in attempts to find the exit. Once again, with mild interest, his light dragged over the threatening 'ur next' (great movie) written on one of them, before he pushed it open to look inside.
"Would you like to give us a review?" Another bloody looking ghost asked as he exited the haunted house, about ten more minutes later. Ollie was already flicking his lighter on to light the joint he put back between his lips.
"Oh, yeah, sure," he said, taking one of the cards, "five out of five on yelp. Would recommend. Great job, and all of that. A little confusing to get through, but someone inside was nice enough to help me find the way out."  
"That's great, thanks for the feedback!" The spooky ghost called to his retreating back, as Ollie finally made his way into the party.
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nevermore-grimes · 5 days
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𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚢-𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚜𝚔 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎!!!
*Most of these questions are normal, and then I managed to sprinkle in some silly ones, hehehe!*
I know a lot of us have been craving to hold paradays, so I was all like “Lemme help get the ball rolling!” and ta-da! An ask game for the paras was born!
So, reblog this if you want someone to send in the name of one (or more!) of your paras and ask them one (or more!) of these questions! (I’ll try to send asks to everyone who reblogs, btw!)
What’s your zodiac sign? (If you have one)
What's your nationality?
Do you identify as queer? What are your labels? Your pronouns?
Who would you call your best friend?
Who would you consider your enemy?
Who do you look up to the most, if anyone?
What’s the most important thing to you?
What’s your self care routine like?
What kind of music are you into?
Are you religious? What do you practice?
Do you consider yourself superstitious?
Do you work? If so, what do you do?
What’s your relationship status? (Feel free to gush about any lovers or platonic partners~)
Do you have any habits? Good or bad?
Do you consider yourself more coordinated or clutzy?
Do you follow a certain diet? (Vegetarian, Gluten-free, etc.)
Would you consider yourself an alpha, beta, or omega?
What’s your biggest fear?
Do you have any dreams/goals?
What makes you happy?
Do you have any pets? If not, do you want any pets?
If you had to die for something, what would it be? (You can take this as seriously or un-seriously as you want)
What's your most embarrassing memory?
Tea or coffee? How do you take it?
Who did you have your first kiss with? If you didn’t yet, who do you hope will be your first kiss?
Do you have a quote you identify with? (Bonus points if it's a Latin saying~)
Would you consider yourself to have “main character energy”?
If you were in charge of making a Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavor (either based off of yourself or not), what would you put in it and what would you call it?
Asker’s Wild Card! The person asking gets to make their own question for you!
Para’s Wild Card! Share a random fun fact about yourself!
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daphnefisherofficial · 11 months
Text
bugna: TAKIPSILIM | destiny's twilight
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Pairing: MCU Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Avatar Fem!Reader
masterlist | previous | next chapter
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CHAPTER SIXTEEN - ALL HAS BEEN REVEALED.
You awoke in a haze, the relentless pounding in your skull matching the rhythmic throbbing of your heart as the agony of yesterday’s hangover threatened to tear your head apart. Your recollection of the previous night was hazy at best, cloudy as the recent dreams you’ve had that you couldn’t quite grasp. As you tried to piece together the fragments of memory, your surroundings slowly came into focus. You found yourself in an unfamiliar room, and for a disorienting moment, you couldn’t place where you were. You were lying in a strange bed, the sheets soft and inviting, but the disarray of the room told a different story.
The dim, morning light filtered in through the curtains, revealing your disheveled state. Slowly, as the fog began to lift, you became aware of another presence in the room. A warm body pressed against your side, soft breaths brushing against your face as they tickled your cheek. A brief moment of panic coursed through you at the prospect of a complete stranger wrapping you in their arms. Slowly turning your head to find out the identity of your mystery companion, fear was soon replaced with mild relief as you saw a familiar face within your line of sight.
Marc's sleeping form greets your eyes, his bare chest in contact with your own as a rosy blush slowly makes its way to your cheeks at your close proximity. His arms were wrapped around your torso in a secure embrace, his grip on your waist tight as if he were afraid to let you go. Your relief at his presence was now replaced with confusion, completely puzzled at how you ended up in Marc’s bed together in the first place. 
Flickers of last night’s escapades began to resurface in your mind like bubbles in a pot of boiling water. There were your tipsy smiles and boisterous laughter, your ill-advised attempt at pole dancing on a nearby lamppost, and the sudden, terrifying sound of gunshots ringing in your ears. You remembered the searing pain in your shoulder and lower back as you crumpled to the ground.
Your eyes widened as the memory of the attack from last night finally became crystal clear, the realization sending shivers down your spine. Your left hand immediately shot to your right shoulder, your fingers cautiously reaching to touch the spots where the bullets had struck. But to your great surprise and shock, the skin was healed, smooth and unblemished, as if the gunshot wounds had never existed in the first place.
You turned your head, fully alert now, as you moved to check his body for any similar wounds, the sound of gunshots still ringing inside your head. To your great relief, Marc’s chest and torso were clear of any injuries.
“You’re okay”, you whispered, a lone tear escaping your eye. “We’re okay, Marc, thank heavens”
Marc began to stir beside you, his gruff morning voice breaking through the silence. "Tranquila, cariño," he murmured, his words laced with a hint of a Spanish accent. “Estoy aquí para protegerte”
It's okay, sweetheart. I'm here to protect you.
You froze as you registered his words, feeling like an ice-cold bucket of water has been splashed on your entire being. His voice was familiar, but something was definitely off. You couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was as the world around you seemed to grind to a halt. 
You watched with bated breath as he slowly woke, his eyelids slowly fluttering open as deep, piercing brown eyes eerily identical to Marc Spector’s familiar ones met your puzzled stare. Your heart raced as you looked into his dark, intense eyes, immediately realizing that the man before is definitely not Marc Spector. And certainly not Steven Grant, as you knew him to be at his aunt’s house, tending to her ailing, sick self. It was someone entirely different who’s in bed with you, and the slow realization hit you like a ton of bricks.
You couldn't move, couldn't speak as your entire being was frozen in disbelief. The growing confusion was written plainly on your face, but the stranger seemed unperturbed. He offered you a reassuring smile, his fingers gently tracing your jawline.
“¿Estás bien, querida? Te duele algo?”
Are you all right, dear? Are you in any pain?
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the emotions that swirled within you as the recesses of moon magic slowly danced at your fingertips. Despite the new moon significantly reducing your power, your fight-and-flight instincts immediately surged forth as your adrenaline kicked in.
You swallowed hard, your mind racing. "Tú no eres Marc Spector," you managed to say, your voice shaky with a mixture of fear and confusion. "¿Quién eres exactamente?"
You are not Marc Spector. Who exactly are you?
“Hablas español, eh?” Jake chuckled, sleep finally evading him as he slowly got up, looking at anywhere but you as he couldn’t bear to see your frightened expression. “Creía que sólo hablabas tu lengua materna.”
You speak Spanish, huh? I thought you only spoke your native language.
“Hablé la lengua de los conquistadores durante un breve tiempo”, you responded, briefly telling him of how your linguistic ability in Spanish came to be. “Pero no respondiste a mi pregunta. ¿Quién eres exactamente?”
I spoke the language of the conquerors for a short time. But you didn't answer my question. Who exactly are you?
Seeing you scramble away from him slightly broke Jake’s heart - he never wanted you to see him as the enemy. But he understood your current reaction as it was warranted. You do not know of him, nor his existence. He was supposed to be a secret.
“Mira”, Jake faced your way and edged closer, trying to reassure you that he meant no harm. “I will not hurt you”
"That’s not what I asked you" you demanded, your tone sharp as you scrambled away from the strange man before you. "Who are you, and where is Marc? What did you do to him?"
“I’m not Marc Spector, but I can’t explain everything right now”, the man resigned, regarding you with an inscrutable expression. He seemed cautious, choosing his words carefully. "It's not my place to tell you."
Your patience, frayed as it was, wore thin at his vague response. The weariness of your body was no match for the surge of power building within you. It was as if your very essence, your supernatural abilities, demanded answers. You could feel your magical prowess ready to burst forth, a tempest trapped within your being, seeking release.
"Then whose place is it?!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion. "You can't just tell me that and expect me to just accept your words without any explanation. Make me understand!"
Jake shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't yield. "I'm sorry, but I can't."
It was clear to you that he wasn't going to give up the information easily, and a surge of determination coursed through you. You were a babaylan (priestess), skilled in witchcraft and mystic arts for a long period of time, and if brute force was what it took to get the answers you sought, so be it.
Without warning, you lunged at Jake, tackling him to the bed. He tried to evade your punches and hits, but you were relentless. Fueled by your growing frustration, you were like a tempest, unrelenting in your pursuit of the truth. Blow after blow, you rained down upon him, your fists like hammers.
Then, with a sudden burst of energy, your fist hit him square in the chest with brutal force. As the impact connected, there was an otherworldly explosion of energy, and Jake's body convulsed violently. You watched in astonishment as a spectral, translucent form was ejected from his physical body, his soul or astral form.
And then, the impossible happened. Not one, but three souls were pushed out of Jake's body, hovering above him. Marc and Steven, identical expressions of shock etched across their faces, were among them. Their voices rang out in unison, echoing through the room, as if they believed it to be a strange, shared dream.
“What the hell, Steven?!”
“Bloody hell, Marc! I dunno what’s happening!”
You, too, were taken aback, your heart pounding in your chest. It was a surreal, unbelievable sight. You had never witnessed anything like this before. And as your eyes darted between the three astral forms, you realized that this was a moment of truth. The identities of these men, once shrouded in mystery, had been laid bare before you.
As if sensing your gaze, Marc and Steven turned to you, their dread evident in their eyes. They no longer had the veil of secrecy to hide behind. Their true natures were exposed, and there was no going back.
"Marc? Steven?" you whispered their names, your voice trembling. "Is that really you?"
The two figures, once identical yet distinctly different, turned toward you, their expressions a tumultuous blend of fear, relief, and resignation. They seemed to be searching for the right words, the right way to explain the unexplainable.
And as you gazed into their eyes, your own powers receded, retreating like a retreating tide, their urgency replaced by a profound curiosity. You watched as Marc's astral form approached, hovering directly in front of you while Steven trailing closely behind. Jake, on the other hand, sensed that it was not his place and instead resigned to observe from the sidelines. Choosing a nearby chair to sit, he watched the unfolding conversation before him.
“Mira!” Marc shouted, remembering what happened last night as his translucent hands grasped your arms tightly, eyes checking your body for any injuries. “Are you alright? You’ve been shot, I–”
“I’m alright”, you spoke, briefly pulling the neckline and the hem of your t-shirt away to reveal your healed skin from your shoulder and lower back to Marc and Steven. 
“Thank heavens”, Steven sighed in pure relief, the tears in his translucent facade evident. “We thought we’d lost you”
“Well, one of you saved me”, you replied, prompting everyone’s eyes including your own to dart at the newcomer’s direction. Jake avoided your gazes and hung his head low, folding his arms as he refused to acknowledge everyone’s presence. He was supposed to stay hidden. They weren’t supposed to know of his existence. You weren’t supposed to meet him.
You knelt before Jake, your eyes carefully regarding him as your hands slowly made their way to his own. “You’re the one who saved me last night, right?”
Jake slowly nodded, prompting Marc and Steven’s translucent forms to mimic your movements to get a closer look at their mystery savior - the man who only appeared during dire situations akin to life and death to save them. 
“That night at Cairo”, Steven started. “When we were fighting Arthur Harrow, that was also you who saved Marc and I, wasn’t it?”
“Sí, that was me. I saved your sorry asses”, Jake chuckled, prompting Marc’s countenance to shift.
“This fucking guy–”
“Marc!” you snapped, prompting him to stop and give their third alter a dirty finger instead. You rolled your eyes at his actions, shortly before you returned your gaze to Jake. “Thank you for saving my life. What do I call you?”
“My name’s Jake”, he finally spoke, looking directly at everyone in the vicinity as the introductions were finally in order. “Jake Lockley”
END OF CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
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