#icebreaker-core

[weirdratwrites]

God, but don't I just love massive vehicles that can serve as a mobile base/home for their crew.

Just… the idea of wandering aimlessly over the surface of some alien world in a truly massive mobile mining platform. A crew of 16 resides in your amalgamation of a Euclid R100 and a soviet Kharkovhanka. You and three others serve as a bridge crew, piloting, scanning, maintaining comms, and navigating. The rest sit on their asses until a new deposit comes up, then they get out in 10-feet-tall exo-suits equipped to tear through the earth and stone of this world.

The bridge itself isn't the most spacious you've seen - more like a set of four desks built into the hull, with enough room to walk between them - and really, the only reason anyone not on duty at one of those stations winds up in there is the external hatch that leads to the balcony wrapping around the front of the landship. Best view on the planet, right there.

A door at the back of the cockpit leads to the main sanctuary for crew. Well-worn diner-style booths line one wall and sleeping alcoves/bunks line the other. The back and some of the middle is taken up by a kitchenette that provides just a bit of a taste of home. The front and middle is taken by an entertainment system that's seen contiguous use since the start of the mission.

A door at the back of that cabin leads to a hanging balcony inside the docking bay/engine room. There's twelve suits in there, and not a week goes by where some sort of malfunction or disability doesn't rock the work crew. Number 3's been having issues with the actuators in its left arm for a month, and Number 8 was leaking power through a faulty coupling until early that week. The engine is a delightfully, near-silent hum that only occasionally trades places with a band of baboons playing 50 steel drums...

Finally, at the very rear of the vehicle, and separated by a coupling that drags the facility along at a healthy 20 mph, is a massive foundry and storage system. Hunks of ore go in, 4"x4"x8' billets come out. You're currently only at a third of total capacity, but you'll hopefully be at capacity in time to return yourself, rather than have an automated system do so, or - worse - another crew relieve you. It'd be a shame to put in all the work you've already done, only to have someone else enjoy the downtime at the end of the shift...

[mattsfavoritestar]

ICEBREAKER , chris sturniolo

synopsis… inbox request !

warnings… toxic!chris, exbf!chris, hockeyplayer!chris, mentions of violence, mentions of cheating, minor mention of bloody injury, degrading, little bit of manhandling (good way dw), hair pulling, spanking, rough fingering, rough sex, unprotected p in v, lowkey public sex

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

“my ass feels like it’s going to fall off” you say as you rub your hands together for warmth. you already knew how cold the ice rink was yet you still decided to wear a skirt, thinking that your fleeced tights would keep out the frosty air. “i don’t know what’s more stupid, the fact that you wore a skirt or the fact that you’re wearing it for ch–“.

you quickly covered your friends mouth as you felt blood rush to your cheeks. “i'm not wearing it for him! i just thought it looked cute,” you grumbled. that was a lie. you did wear it for chris. you remembered how much he loved seeing you in one (as much as he loved the easy access). “okay, look at me.” your friend says as she grabs your shoulders.

“we caught him texting other girls, remember?” she says. you frown at the vivid memory. he had you wrapped around his fingers with that stupid smile and his baby blue eyes. you found countless of nudes (which weren’t yours) in his camera roll along side the many dirty texts to multiple contacts, yet he still somehow looked somewhat innocent in your eyes.

“now c’mon, we’re here for your brother not him” she says before walking towards the entrance. as you followed behind, you gave yourself a mini pep talk on how you were gonna completely ignore his presence and focus on your brother. you were so caught up in your head that you didn’t realize someone walking into your direction. right as you collided into his chest, the stranger quickly steadies you by your waist.

“careful” he says with a smile. you noticed the jersey being a number 12 with the opposing teams color. with a quick apology, you removed yourself from his hands and made your way to the arena. little did you know a fuming chris caught the whole interaction with a deathly grip on his hockey stick.

“another goal for the boston bruins!” the announcer shouts as the crowd roared. you were jumping as you clapped for the team. so far, the game was going smoothly with barely any penalties. a glimpse of chris’s number 3 jersey catches your eye. you watched as he rushed to the puck with determination. on the opposing team, number 12 surpasses him and hits the puck to the opposite direction.

it seemed like chris didn’t care for the puck anymore as he raced towards number 12. a series of gasps follow as chris harshly shoves him to the floor. the game pauses as the players watch chris rip his helmet off and toss it. he climbs on top of 12 and takes off his helmet then delivers him a punch to the face followed by another. and another.

the referee blows the whistle multiple times but the screeching sound fell deaf to chris’s ears. you saw your brother as well as number 2 race over to pull chris off him with a slight struggle. chris pushes both of them away from him then gets off the ice with an angered expression.

his coach meets him at the gateway as he yells at chris for attacking the opposing teammate. the entire time his coach is lecturing him, chris was looking around the bleachers. then his eyes locked on you. his face was flushed from the cold mixed with heated anger and his hair was damp with sweat. a small smirk found its way to his lips as he watched you practically check him out. you couldn’t lie, your body was providing you with a warmth that went straight to your core.

chris breaks eye contact as his coach tells him to go cool off in the locker room. “alright ladies and gentlemen— we’ll be back after a brief intermission” the announcer says as players start to exit the rink. you looked over to your friend— who was distracted by trying to get a close up of number 12’s bloody bruised face. you slipped out of the bleachers then left the arena in search of the locker room.

your heart hammered as you slowly opened the door. you haven’t spoken to chris in a week, which was the longest you’ve gone before giving in. the lights were dim and the room was quiet. you knew chris was in here since his gloves were laying on the bench in-front of you. “chris?” you called out cautiously.

you jolted as you heard a locker door slam shut followed by a heavy sigh. as you drew closer to the sound, you saw a trail of chris’s gear leading up to where he stood. he was leaning on the lockers with his head tilted up as he breathes rapidly— as if he was trying to catch his breath.

“miss me already?” he says as a devilish smirk forms on his face. you said nothing as you pad over to him and analyze his hands—which were closed into a tight fist. you take one of them into your own and lift it to eye level. his knuckles were bruised and dried with blood, you were unsure if it was his or the other guys.

“why’d you do it?” you ask in a soft voice. chris scoffs then snatches his hand away. “why? you worried ‘bout him or somethin’?” he rebuttals. you sigh as you meet his eyes and search through them. you could never understand chris or why he does things like this but you sure as hell try to.

“saw you gettin’ familiar with him earlier so i thought i’d introduce myself” he shrugged. a frown painted your face as you recalled the countless of times that chris has gotten friendly with other girls in front of you. “but chris— we’re not together anymore” you reminded him.

you watched his eyes darken as an angered expression formed onto his face. you gasp as he harshly grabs your waist and pulls you closer. “yeah?” he says as he leans closer to your face, “didn’t i tell you that y’can’t ever leave me?”.

he flips you both over and roughly pushes you into the lockers. you’re body burned more then ever but you couldn’t tell if it was from fear or arousal. probably both. “chris m’not here for this” you say trying to convince yourself more than him.

“no?”, he leans down to your neck and trials kisses up to your ear, “then why’d you follow me in here?” he whispered. you give him no response. a shuttered breath leaves your lips as chris continues to attack your neck with kisses and occasional bites. your fingers curled into his jersey, pulling him closer and causing him to smile against your skin.

you gasp as he suddenly flips you around to face the locker. you felt him tug your tights down along with your underwear. the cold air against your skin made you shudder but it quickly surpassed as the harsh contact of chris’s palm connected to your skin making heated blood rush to that area. “said y’not here for this yet here you are in a skirt f’me— fucking slut” he scoffed.

you whined as he roughly grabs your hair and forces you into an arched position, your bare ass against fully clothed pelvis. you felt two of his fingers swipe through your folds then slowly enter you as he towers over you, watching your expression as he tucked his his bottom lip between his teeth.

your eyelids dare to shut as your jaw hung open with not so quiet moans leaving your throat. “did y’think he could make you feel this way?” chris snarled. you replied with a near scream as he picks up the pace. your legs shook as an unexpected orgasm came over you. you didn’t know if the blood in your cheeks was from embarrassment of cumming to quickly or pure desire as you felt your body yearn for more.

chris laughs as he delivers you yet another sharp slap to your ass. he removes himself from you completely but before you could turn around, you felt his hands grip your waist tightly. you felt his throbbing cock prodding at your entrance, slicking itself with your arousal. you tried pushing yourself closer to him but he held you in place.

finally after what felt like ages, chris sinks into you slowly. “fuck baby— i needed this” he groans. your cheek was smooshed again the cold locker which contrasted to your burning skin. chris didn’t waste a second as he immediately picks up the pace, going deeper inside you everytime.

chris places one of his hands beside your head while the other nearly forms a bruise under his grip tightening. “look at you letting me use you— but y’not here for this, right?” he mocks your words with a small chuckle. your jaw hung open, your cries fell deaf to your own ears while a buzz replaced the lewd sound. with a slight whine, chris delivers one final harsh thrust then roughly pulls out.

he jerks himself off as ribbons of white painted your bruised ass. your legs shook with a dull ache, you were sure they would give out any second. you didn’t realize that he pulled out before you could finish but regardless, you wouldn’t really care anyways considering the lingering high from his fingers. loud banging at the door startled the two of you, “yo chris, coach needs you back on the ice!” a teammate shouted from the other side.

you were shocked on how you made it back to the bleachers on your own with your weak legs. “hey where’d you–“ your friend did a double take before taking in your appearance then giving you a disappointed look. a hockey jersey with ‘c. sturniolo, 3’ printed on the back that stopped mid thigh covered your clothes, leaving only your fleeced tights on display.

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard - companion bios all together

[source, two]

Text in each image reads:

"Lace Harding This dwarven scout has a positive outlook and a ready bow – as well as unexpected magical powers. At her core, Harding is still a girl from Ferelden; she loves adventure, animals, and nature and is fiercely protective of her family and friends. Abilities – Seismic Shot; Heavy Draw; Shred; Adrenaline Rush; Soothing Potion Neve Gallus A cynic fighting for a better future, Neve is both a private detective and a member of Tevinter’s rebellious Shadow Dragons. Born and raised in a working-class neighborhood of Minrathous, she does not believe in the superiority of mages. Abilities – Icebreaker; Blizzard; Glacial Pace; Time Slow; Replenish Davrin Bold and charming, this Grey Warden has made a name for himself as a monster hunter. Though he was raised in a Dalish clan, he craved excitement and adventure. He’d rather make history than reflect on it. Now he cares for Assan, a young griffon. Abilities - Battle Cry; Death From Above; Heroic Strike; Assan Strike; In War, Victory Bellara Lutare Bellara is creative, romantic, and obsessed with uncovering the secrets of ancient Elvhenan. She has a strong sense of self – a clear idea of who she is and what she wants – and will push herself to her limits to find the answers she seeks. Abilities – Fade Bolts; Enfeebling Shot; Replenish; Time Slow; Galvanized Tear Taash A qunari dragon hunter with the Lords of Fortune, Taash lives for adventure and doesn’t mind taking risks. While her interests include sparkling treasures and hitting things with an axe, she is also deeply knowledgeable about many topics. Abilities – Fire Breath; Dragon’s Roar; Dragonfire Strike; Spitfire; Fortune’s Favor Emmrich Volkarin A necromancer of Nevarra’s Mourn Watch, this well-mannered scholar comes complete with a skeletal assistant, Manfred. Emmrich is as serious about his duty to protect innocents from the occult as he is about his studies of the mysteries of the Fade. Abilities – Final Rites; Replenish; Entangling Spirits; The Bell Tolls; Time Slow Lucanis Dellamorte Lucanis is an expert assassin for whom the Antivan Crows are a family business. Poised and pragmatic, he would rather not be the center of attention, focusing instead on his work. Lucanis specializes in executing powerful mages and has earned the title Demon of Vyrantium. Abilities – Eviscerate; Abominate; Soothing Potion; Debilitate; Adrenaline Rush"

[vampiretendencies]

jj reading with you and he loves the fluffy smut in your books that you read❤️

suggestive! there’s a tiny piece from the book ‘icebreaker’ in here i haven’t actually read it just saw a snippet on tiktok. smut is depicted in the snippet, though i do not write smut.

“he did what ?! in her what ?!”

jj’s mind is frantically stocked in disbelief. he was equal parts aching to his core at the fact that you read such things, and also torn at how such a realm of content existed graphically in books.

jj wasn’t naturally a reader, however this sense of shock makes him want to collect an entire library of one’s similar.

he doesn’t exactly remember when and how he got so wrapped up in this book. but all he knows is, you’re in his lap— sitting so prettily, the two of you are readying together; and he wants to keep it that way.

you can’t help but giggle slightly, “you read it right the first time, j.”

“baby you’re telling me you read this shit everyday! it’s corrupting me.”

his eyes glance back over the line that says ‘not yet, i wanna watch you ride me’ he underlined it with his index finger. trying to become self aware that he wasn’t imagining it.

“you were already corrupted jj.”

the more his eyes continue to scan, he can feel his mouth salivate. in grave urge to appreciate the masterpiece of words on the pages in front of him. and maybe you too

“guess this is how you knew as much as you did our first time.”

“who knows.”

he kisses the corner of your mouth, where your hands meet at the index of the book, he shuts it. “we should take a break from reading, baby. make a lil’ smut of our own yeah?”

[maykitz]

played a bit of frostpunk 2 and so far it seems good. giving more depth to the laws system was a straight upgrade. the expedited time passage removes the nighttimes that could previously have nothing to do depending on playstyle so probably a good call. i'm not a huge fan of trading in the circular grid for hexagonal tiles; it removes such a core characteristic and unique trait of the original for nothing. in general the generator seems have gotten downgraded both visually and gameplay wise. in the first one it's (literally) the centre of everything, you would frequently fiddle with the heat setting to balance coal consumption against heat requirements, use overdrive etc. now it's just another part of the economy, it regulates itself and just sits there. cold is just another society debuff like crime or disease. i haven't progressed much but it seems you're now supposed to manage concurrent cities which is fun. the new icebreaking mechanic to unlock buildable area is kind of whatever though. it adds nothing but additional cost to buildings, idk the point. but the overall ui to my mind is definitely worse. the og was really easy to get into playing because it's visually distinct and logical, you know where everything is. i can't put into words well what bothers me about it now but i feel like it's lacking clarity. the outside world exploration screen just doesn't tell me what's happening at a glance anymore. the buildings don't look very distinct. it's kinda like, grey/white/metal slop visuals. and it feels like they knew this because they added coloured overlay. but if you change a base builder to a city builder why do you design the districts so samey that you need overlays to distinguish them? it's not like you were *that* constricted by realism, the first one has guys flying around to hunt meat. lol

[rogue-4]

This is my page just for posting at the start and end of Destiny seasons at this point, and I wanted to make sure I beat basically everything important this season before commenting on it for the whole 2 people who read this.

While there was some bad, that’s not very fun to focus on. I liked Fikrul dying finally, it’s closure to that story. I like the end of the Kell of Kells story. I like that Eramis is finally gone, I am very mixed on a lot of her appearances but I’m glad her character got a conclusion that fits her and she can go rebuild Old Riis. I like she didn’t try do redemption by death or anything like that. I like that Variks and Spider are back, my boys.

I liked all the core activities for the most part, though I’m a bit burned out.

I loved Vesper’s Host, it’s some of the most fun I’ve had in Destiny in a long time. No notes, perfect. Icebreaker rocks too.

Kell’s Vengeance was cool, I like that it was a short and sweet activity that got right to the point and had a fun boss fight. Cool thing, do more of that, it was fun as hell.

Better than Echoes.

I hope Heresy can bring the story back up to where I’d like it to be before Apollo. My money is on Akka getting the Echo.

[drunkenskunk]

Meanwhile, en route to the Icebreaker...

All was quiet on the Dragon's Tooth. The old IPS-N clipper being used as the home-away-from-Hell's-Gate for the Strategic Response Team was currently on its braking burn towards the Icebreaker Borealis, and the ship's clocks had all been set to the station's local time. As a result, it was close to “one in the morning,” and nearly everyone on board was asleep.

A hatch suddenly opened onto the mech bay. Scarlet stepped through the open door, wearing only a tank top and sweatpants. A part of her knew she shouldn't be walking around in here with bare feet, but she was worried about making too much noise. In fact, she was worried about a lot of things...

Before she knew it, she was standing before her mech: Big Red. An old Everest, battle scarred and rough around the edges, she'd been slowly tinkering with and upgrading the ancient beast over her last several months on the team. What stood out the most was the armored “boombox” she'd had custom fitted to the right shoulder. It housed the barrels, rotor assembly, and firing mechanism of the Leviathan heavy assault cannon, fed by a pair of armored ammo belts and connected to the immense ammo drum mounted on the back. It wasn't the newest addition, but it was certainly the most obvious, especially when compared to the other assault mechs in the militia's rank-and-file.

The war machine was still harnessed and braced in its alcove, completely immobile and powered down: exactly as she'd left it several hours earlier. That wouldn't have been notable, had it not been for the unexpected... calamity from earlier. And it was why she was here right now.

See, Scarlet had ordered some explosive vents for Big Red some time ago; after all, heat buildup during the last few fights was becoming a bit of an issue, so she might as well put that heat to some good use, right? But for one reason or another, she had kept putting off the installation. This was likely because everything had become Completely Fucked in Calliope ever since the arrival of all those warship fleets in system. She'd been way too busy running “all hands, repel boarders” combat drills with a lot of the Hell's Gate militia, on the ever-increasingly-likely chance that they'd need it.

Now that the SRT was on their way to the Icebreaker, she had plenty of time, and Agarin even offered to help her get them installed. Getting the physical parts slotted into the mech went as smooth as every other installation in the past, and everything seemed to be going fine. And then she powered up the mech to install the firmware updates.

The instant the fusion core spun up, the machine started moving all on it's own, ignoring any commands and struggling against the restraints and maintenance catwalks holding it in place. Big Red's distinctive purr – a clicking sound with an unknown source the mech would occasionally make – had turned into a ferocious, almost animalistic roar that Scarlet was sure must have echoed throughout the entire ship. The whole machine bucked and writhed uncontrollably, very nearly ripping the umbilicals out of the bay, and if Scarlet hadn't been strapped in by the assault harness and connected through the cranial jack at the base of her skull, she was sure she would have been tossed right out of the open cockpit like a ragdoll.

Just as she felt like her options were running out, Agarin had hopped into the open cockpit with a grace that she thought shouldn't have been possible for someone so damn tall (did that tail of his help with balance?). He was intent on interfacing with the mech using some of his implants and technical know-how in the hope that the two of them working together could get the machine to calm down... but as soon as the handsome dragon man plugged himself in, everything just got worse.

In truth, Scarlet could barely remember everything that happened. Big Red misidentified Agarin's presence in the system as an attack, battering him through the connection with words like INTRUDER, INTERLOPER, and HOSTILE, repeated over and over again... and because she was hard-wired into the machine as well, her mind was also hit with the same mental assault.

Combat recordings from dozens – maybe hundreds – of past engagements flooded both of their minds. Indescribable death and carnage on an unthinkable scale that she had never before witnessed. Screams of the dead, entire worlds on fire, and the machines who burned them. Pilots murdered by the score, one after the other, their names and faces blending together. Recordings, information, tactical data, and images force-fed directly into her brain through the cranial jack, overloading her senses and layering on top of one another until the horror and anger and pain of it all melted into nothing but noise.

The whole experience only lasted for a few minutes, but it had felt like hours.

What she did remember clearly was Agarin doing some kind of Clanner Space Magic to ask her a simple question: “Do you trust me?” And while she responded with as an enthusiastic “yes” as she could possibly muster right then and there, it was like the mech had also been given pause by the question. Before she knew it, the connection in her mind began to fade, and the mech powered down of its own volition.

That was several hours ago. She stared up at the wedge-shaped head of her mech, and the distinctive mass of cracks around the left optical unit. She half expected it to start moving again to look at her, but the trio of cameras remained shuttered, and the head was still and immobile.

“Can't sleep?” came a voice from behind her, and Scarlet practically jumped out of her skin. She wheeled around and was face-to-holographic-face with Siren, the Dragon's Tooth NHP pilot. She had her arms folded across her chest, and she was looking at Scarlet with a curious expression. Was that amusement or annoyance?

“Wh- I- well... no.” Scarlet stammered out eventually. She brushed some errant strands of red hair out of her face. “I'm just... y'know, I'm still... still just a bit on edge from earlier, yeah?”

“And you thought checking in on your haunted mech in the middle of the night would take the edge off?” Siren asked, tilting her head with her mouth cracking into a smirk.

“Hey, c'mon, Big Red ain't haunted, I just...” she tried to wave it off dismissively, but Scarlet briefly looked over her shoulder to glance up at her mech – as if checking to make sure it was, indeed, still not moving – and then quickly turned back at Siren. “Look, I know we're headin' to the Icebreaker for that party bein' thrown by the Kingdom Aniline or whoever, but you know what things've been like lately. Fer all we know, we're headin' into another fight, an' I... I just wanna make sure he's good t'go, and isn't gonna freak out. Don't want any more surprises.”

“Sorry marine, I'm not letting you boot up that thing again while we're in transit and without proper support,” Siren shook her head. “I heard about the Vent Crab Incident back on the Gate, and I'm not letting you blow any holes in my ship.”

Scarlet screwed up her face in frustration. Apparently that fake Muse post Pearce made a while back (do mechs even know what they're doing or do they just see crab flowing down a vent and think “absolutely not”) was still floating around the Omninet. And, sure, she had accidentally blown up a vent crab (and several bulkheads) with a mech scale rifle round that day, but she didn't even have a Muse account!

“I promise I'm just gonna run some diagnostics,” Scarlet said, holding up her hands in what she hoped was a disarming gesture. “I'll keep him in low-power, won't even spin up th' reactor. Just wanna be sure everything is fine, so I can put my worries to bed an' get some sleep.”

Siren was quiet for a minute, scrutinizing the mech pilot. The holographic NHP eventually sighed and shrugged.

“Alright, go on. But I'll be keeping an eye on things, and I'll have my hand on the kill-switch the second I even get a whiff that something is about to go wrong.”

“Hey now, you don't ha-” Scarlet began, but Siren held up a blue shimmering finger.

“These terms are non-negotiable, marine. Now go on, check on the spooky boy, I'll keep watch from here. But do try and be quick about it. I've got some friends in a game of Fleet Command 5016 on standby, and I don't want to leave them hanging for too long.”

And with that, the Siren hologram winked away.

Scarlet turned on her heel, scampered up the access later, and popped the cockpit hatch as quick as she could, just on the off chance Siren decided to have a change of heart. Once she got settled in the command couch, she flipped a series of switches to start the mech in low-power mode. While the monitors and consoles around her began to hum softly, warming up into a diagnostic boot sequence, she reached behind her head, feeling around for the metal jack behind her seat. She moved her ponytail out of the way with her free hand, and slotted the jack into her cranial port with the other.

The connection was immediate and made her grit her teeth, just like always: a sharp electric buzz at the base of her skull that blossomed into icy fingers prodding inside her brain. The sensation wormed its way down through her neck and flooded her extremities until everything tingled uncomfortably, as if her whole body had fallen asleep for half a second. Then the sensation passed, and a relative equilibrium was achieved between Scarlet and her war machine.

“Alright big guy,” Scarlet said, trying to blink away the sparkles on the edges of her vision. “Tell me what ails you.”

The low clicking reverberated through the cockpit in response, and words quickly typed themselves out on one of the monitors.

<<HOSTILE ARCHITECTURE DETECTED>>

“Hostile architecture?” Scarlet said aloud. “Wait, y'mean the new parts?” She figured that was probably the problem, but she still wasn't entirely clear as to why.

The mech rumbled. A different monitor on the other side of the cockpit flipped on, and began to playback a recording. This was one of the many recordings that had been force-fed in her brain earlier, but it took Scarlet a minute to realize that was what she was looking at. After all, seeing an image on a monitor was a slightly different experience than a video feed overlaid with tactical and sensor data flowing around it like water, and transmitted directly into her mind through a cranial jack. Especially when there had been so much other information to parse.

The recording looked like it was the camera feed of a broken mech lying motionless on the ground, surrounded by rubble. It was hard to tell from the quality and angle of the recording, but she was pretty sure the mech this recording came from was much bigger than an Everest. Even so, the mech itself wasn't the focus: it was the inferno all around. It was like the whole world had been set on fire, and through the heat haze, she could see crude juggernauts marching past in formation. The recording shook with every stomp of their heavy boots, and streams of liquid fire surged from titanic flamethrowers.

More words began to type themselves on the other monitor, drawing her attention:

<<Rec:4533u//Hercynia-MycolFields//Varano,J.(Clover)//DECEASED>>

Scarlet turned back to the recording, with slightly better understanding. This was from 483 years ago? She knew this mech was old, but she had no idea it was that old. Hell, she didn't think the Everest frame was that old. Was that why it looked so different, and... so much larger? Had this machine not always been an Everest? The techs back on Hell's Gate had always joked that the “Rage Machine” was an ancient piece of shit, but... did anyone actually know how old this beast was?

And then there was that word that stood out to her for some reason: Hercynia. That was... Agarin mentioned something about that, after he got Big Red to calm down earlier, hadn't he? Her memory was still a bit fuzzy about that. Hercynia was... it was a planet somewhere, wasn't it? She wasn't entirely sure.

“Hang on, somethin' else is botherin' me. What are those?” Scarlet leaned forward, squinting her eyes, trying in vain to get the grainy picture on the monitor to come into focus. “Those mechs stompin' around, they kinda look familiar, but... hell, if I didn't know better, I'd say they were the same kinda frame Andros Capella was drivin' when he came out of that fire gate.”

Big Red seemed to shudder at the mention of Andros Capella... though, it was probably more accurate to say it sent a shudder up Scarlet's spine, directly through the cranial jack.

“Heh... yeah, I feel ya, big guy. You wanted a crack at him, same as I did.” Scarlet started to chuckle, and patted one of the consoles. “Well, look on the bright side: Pearce murked him, what? Four times in the last fight? An' Cassilda punched him t'death the first time. We'll probably get a crack at him ourselves, eventually.”

The clicking sound briefly grew in volume, before settling back down again.

“Alright, so these mechs yer showin' me. What are they, anyway?”

Another monitor above her and to her left winked on. It showed a wireframe of the mechs in the recording, clearly generated from what looked a mixture of official schematics and tactical data. Again, words began to type themselves out, drawing her attention.

<<U-MEF//GMS-UPA.1//Mk-1.Genghis//Worldkiller>>

“Wait, Genghis? That doesn't look like a-” but she cut herself off before she could finish her thought, as another one intruded. The Harrison Armory license she'd accessed to order the explosive vents was for the Mk II Genghis. Mark 2. She'd always wondered about that. Scarlet looked back up at the wireframe: this squat, brutal looking monster of a mech definitely cut a significantly different silhouette than the smaller, slimmer, sleeker frame of the Mk II... but the more she looked, the more she could see the resemblance.

Before she had a chance to ponder that any further, all the monitors cleared themselves, as a string of more words on the first monitor appeared.

<<Protocol 1: Link To Pilot>> <<Protocol 2: Uphold The Mission>> <<Protocol 3: Protect The Pilot>> <<ERROR//PROTOCOL CONFLICT//ERROR>> <<HOSTILE ARCHITECTURE DETECTED>> <<PROTOCOL 3 IN JEOPARDY>>

“Y'know what... after seein' all that? I don't blame ya for takin' that stance,” Scarlet reached up to scratch at her head. “I wouldn't want somethin' from those big fuckers in me either.”

Big Red rumbled again.

“Protect the pilot...” Scarlet muttered under her breath. “Well... I dunno if it'll help things, but... that's the whole reason I got these parts. I wasn't thinkin' of where they came from, but what they could do fer us, y'know?” She gestured with her thumb above her right shoulder. “That big fuck-off assault cannon we got from the Drake license generates a lot of heat, and I'm not sure I know how to squeeze in any more heat sinks without sacrificin' some structure.”

The screen winked clear, and another string appeared in its place.

<<...PROCESSING...>>

“Hell, if you don't believe me, believe what Agarin told ya earlier. We're all part of a team. Agarin, Fern, Cassilda... hell, even Pearce and that gaggle of NHP's he's been collectin' like playing cards. We all look out fer each other. We all make sure we come out the other side of every fight in one piece. An' that's all I was tryin' to do, yeah? Use whatever I can to keep myself alive, so I can find my Five Minutes, an' keep all them alive.” Scarlet let out a heavy sigh. “I... hell, I don't know if I'm makin' any sense. Am I makin' sense?”

The clicking steadied, and Big Red rumbled in sympathy.

<CONDITIONS//ACCEPTABLE>> <<PROTOCOL CONFLICT//RESOLVED>>

The monitor flickered, and one more message scrolled past:

<<Protocol 3>> <<I will not lose another Pilot>>

“Yeah, don't you worry 'bout a thing, big man,” Scarlet patted one of the nearby consoles. “I'm not goin' anywhere.”

With that, she flipped the switches to fully power down the mech. The connection at the base of her skull went cold, as the monitors winked off and the hum of the consoles fell silent. She reached behind her head to disconnect the cerebral jack, and she sat nestled there in the command couch, waiting for the pins and needles sensation of neurons firing at stimuli no longer present to subside.

And as she sat there, surrounded by silence and darkness, a memory crossed her mind. An errant thread, begging to be pulled.

The memory was one of the visions she'd seen, when the team had been caught in that paracausal labyrinth deep beneath the surface of Botzmann. She still wasn't quite sure of how any of that shit worked, or how a cascading NHP was responsible, but it was like reality itself had been cut up and stitched back together; even time didn't make sense, experiencing pasts that never were, and impossible futures that still might be. And while Scarlet was lost, separated from the others, she had stumbled across a mirror. No words were said, but she somehow knew what it was the moment she saw her reflection looking back at her.

This Scarlet stared at her with tired, empty eyes. She was old and grey, with hands covered in blood... but none of it her own. A trail of death and carnage followed behind her. This was a Scarlet that had never found her Last Five Minutes, because she'd deliberately avoided finding them at any cost. This Scarlet was so good at keeping herself alive, that she had become the last one standing.

This was who she feared she could become.

“Yeah...” she said aloud, to no one in particular. “Guess I'm not goin' anywhere.”

[hg-deranged-edition]

Having a lot of Harringrove thoughts over them being each others foils…

Now don’t get me wrong, I adore Harringrove fics where they’re polar opposites and challenge each others comfort zones and preconceived notions. But fics/headcanons where they’re seemingly opposite on the surface but actually incredibly similar people on the inside? THATS MY BREAD AND BUTTER BABE!!! (Bear in mind this post will have a lot of personal headcanons/analysis)

Just. For starters, as an icebreaker, I adore it when they both have abandonment issues. I love how a core trait of theirs makes them react in opposite ways, with Steve desperately clinging onto a person and showering them in love and Billy pushing them away and hurting them. I love how their love languages are the same, with Billy having an unhealthy relationship perceiving protection as love (eg. trying to protect his mom, and Max and Susan to some extent) and Steve doing all the crazy stunts he does to protect the kids.

I love love love how both Steve and Billy care deeply about their appearances and primp themselves up in different ways. They both have an obsession with performing masculinity the right way and pleasing a crowd of people, again in different ways but similar results. Their houses are not homes but they come from different economic backgrounds. They’re both constantly relegated to being the babysitter and they both hate it. Hell their features are polar opposites but everyone focuses on the same things for them (you’ll find a ton of shit talking about their pretty eyes and pretty lips.) They have horrible habits as crutches. They’re obsessed with whether or not they’re lovable. They both have a sapphic bff. If you want to make it weird and fucked up, theres a chance Karen was weird as hell about Steve, too.

This post is just rambling and it doesn’t capture most of my thoughts. This is because I’m trying to open up a discussion please please please please reply to this with your own thoughts and TALJ TO ME!!!

I live in a fantasy world whwre Stranger Things is good

[joels6string]

First Time For Everything

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: There's something you've always wanted to try, but never found someone you trusted enough to share it with. Until now.

Rating: E

Word Count: 1.7k

Content: smut, oral f-receiving, butt play, rimming, anal sex

“Patience, sweetheart,” he cooed, “If I hurt you I’d never forgive myself.”

Joel Miller Masterlist

It all began with soapy hands soaking the hem of your shirt and whiskered kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, a gravelly mumble into your skin you couldn’t quite make out vibrating down your body and landing heavily in your core. It was always this easy. As his tongue swiped out over your pulse, another jolt shot down beneath your thighs, your knees buckling as his arm wrapped tightly around your middle, catching you as your hands gripped the edge of the counter still wet from the evening’s dinner clean-up.

“Joel?” you mewled pathetically, his nose dragging along your pulse as he hummed in response, graciously taking his lips off of you to give you a chance to formulate your words, “Can I ask you for something?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed, fingers pressing into the softness of your waist.

“There’s something I want to… try. With you.”

“Go on.”

It shouldn’t be nerve-wracking, but it was, even with the knowledge there was no edge of the Earth he wouldn’t hurtle off for your benefit.

“I want to try something new,” you continued, still skirting around the request, pressing yourself back harder against his groin, “Upstairs.”

“Honey, I’m gonna need you to be more specific,” he chuckled hot against your throat, “Tell me what you want.”

The words came blurting out awkwardly, his eyes going wide as his jaw dropped slightly, your heart hammering as you waited for his response. Clearly, he was stunned in silence. Or maybe horror. It was always hard to tell with him.

“You want that…” he began quietly like his throat was closing in on itself, “with me?”

“Yeah,” you answered, cupping his jaw in your hand, “Only you.”

“Okay.”

Shaking hands pulled off your clothes slowly seconds after the bedroom door clicked closed, the backs of his fingers dragging down the bare skin of your arms reverently as you worked on the buttons of his shirt. When you were both bare standing at the foot of the bed, you could see the wheels in his head spinning, his thumbs rubbing wonky circles in the dips of your hips as his eyes flit from your mouth to your wide gaze.

“How do you wanna…” he mumbled nervously, your lips cutting him off with a simple kiss, “Tell me what to do.”

“Have you done it before?” you asked, pressing back with another gentle peck before his nerves could take over again.

“No. I…I’ve watched it…on the internet…And I’m sorry–”

“Are you…apologizing for watching porn on the internet over 20 years ago?”

“I guess so…”

That was the icebreaker you both needed. Hysterical laughter broke out as you collapsed against his chest, nuzzling into the dark hair covering his torso, the rumble of his laugh vibrating against your cheek. When your lips reconnected it was all fire and passion, your hands exploring the dips and curves of his muscular body as your tongues danced to a steady rhythm you’d had memorized for years. 

“Just stay close,” you requested as your back hit the mattress, “Please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, sealing that promise with a kiss as he lay on his side beside you, his hand splaying across your inner thigh spreading your legs gratuitously.

His calloused fingers brushed gingerly over your open slit, the rough skin catching on your sensitized bundle of nerves just enough to have you gasping into his open mouth, your back arching off the bed in search of more contact as he teased that featherlight touch up your stomach. When he slipped down and perched your legs on his broad shoulders and down his back, you waited impatiently for what came next. This was a position you found yourself in often, his head buried in your heat as he lapped and suckled to his heart’s content.

It began as it always did, his tongue collecting what had already accumulated before swirling over your swelling nub, every motion lazy and natural yet so pinpointed. You were too distracted to care when his palms swallowed the backs of your thighs, pushing your knees to your chest and opening you up further to his onslaught. The dizzying effect had you ensnared, and when he pressed cautiously to the puffy muscle that was now exposed you couldn’t help the guttural cry that ripped free and bounced off the walls of the bedroom you shared. 

He prodded and flattened his tongue, spit dripping down your crack as he soaked his intended entrance for the evening, his pecks to the surrounding area only working to build you up further. He began with his middle finger, slipping it past the clenched barrier gently and crooking his first knuckle, his mouth latching onto your clit once again as he stretched your hole open, thrusting gently until your hips were rocking in an attempt to find more. His ring finger was added next, a watchful stare fixated on you searching for the first sign of discomfort as he began to scissor you open, your stomach clenching as discomfort merged with pleasure, your legs spreading wider as you chased the high.

“Please,” you begged, your fingers locking into the gray hair he’d let grow out, tugging in hopes of bringing him to the next stage.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he cooed, “If I hurt you I’d never forgive myself.”

The iron grip you had on his strands loosened in favor of soothing strokes, your body settling to enjoy the way his fingers and mouth worked in tandem over both of your holes until he got what he’d been seeking. A white-hot wave washed over your sweat-soaked skin, every muscle tensing and then releasing as you crested, his name the only recognizable word drifting off of the incoherent babble falling from your lips. 

As your chest heaved, he repositioned himself back beside you, your legs draping over his body, his erection resting heavily against your swollen folds. Your taste was heavy on his lips when he focused your attention back on him, his beard so shamelessly soaked with spit and your arousal it dampened your chin. When you reached between your bodies to line him up, you found his hand already gripping his length, your fingers then drifting to your cunt to collect what was still leaking freely to add to the tight ring of muscle he was now pressing the head of his cock against.

“Ready?” he asked softly, teasing with enough pressure to have you whining for more, “You tell me if I need to stop, you understand?”

“Yes,” you agreed, your tongue lapping against his puffy lips reinforcing your words.

It was painful at first, the stretch something even his fingers couldn’t prepare you for, yet somehow it wasn’t unbearable. He was slow, stopping when the head had breached far enough to stay seated, his fingers once again rubbing gentle circles on the dips of your hips, and puffs of barely-controlled breaths hot against your ear as you realized he was already panting. With each inch deeper, you felt impossibly fuller, his thumb now begging your body to relax as he pressed on your clit, flicking gingerly as he pulled out slightly and pushed in again, slightly further this time.

“Tell me you’re alright,” he grunted, forehead pressed to your temple, and you nodded, “Use your words.”

“M’okay.” That was going to have to be enough, your brain was too focused on the feeling of him splitting you open in the very best way possible, a pathetic whine slipping out when his hips notched against yours, his cock fully sheathed inside of you.

After the second steady thrust, all of your discomforts had dissipated, you wiggled your hips over him, silently asking him for more, clenching around him enough to have him moaning softly into your ear in that way that made you dizzy. A turn of your head had you drinking in the sight of his teeth gnashed together, every ounce of his focus being used to control himself as he plunged into your tight depths over and over, his desire to keep you from harm outweighing his own search for pleasure.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whimpered as you kissed the scar on the bridge of his nose, “I can’t…”

“You don’t have to,” you reminded him, his fingers still somehow working over your nub like it was a reflex, you weren’t sure if he even knew he was doing it, the pressure in your belly building with every drag of his cock through your now-gaping hole.

“Feels so god damn good.”

“I know.”

The confirmation you were enjoying this as much as he was had him relaxing enough to pull your lips to his again. He got you to the edge first, holding back his own release until you were strangling him, the tightening of your ass around his cock enough to have him sputtering louder than you knew he was intending. He was choking on it, the overwhelming surge that had him twitching with aftershocks as he softened still buried inside of you, his release leaking out onto the sheets you’d changed just the day before.

Sweat had his hair matting around his eyes, making him look younger than his five-and-a-half decades led on, the tension that held his features hostage had melted away in the haze he found himself drifting in. It was in these rare moments of bliss you found yourself unable to stop adoring the scars, fine lines, and sun spots you cherished, every freckle and mark on his face worthy of memorization and esteem.

“Everything you hoped for?” he teased, his voice an octave higher as a grin stretched across his face, an arm slinging heavy across your stomach.

You hummed in agreement, your nails scraping over the course hair covering his forearm, “Everything you hoped for?”

“Can’t be sure. Might have to try again.”

“There he is. He’s back.”

A toothy smile and hearty laugh preceded the abrupt loss of him from inside you, the soreness of your activities settling in as you sat up and readied for a shower. He noticed your unease, snapping into action immediately as he lifted you into his arm effortlessly, his lips distracting you as the water boiled, his choice for a bath to end the evening surprising even you as the soapy bubbles began to rise.

Not proofread, I die with my typos like a true amateur.

[canowhoopasshg]

This here is my own pride and joy! Best known as

COGITO ERGO BOOM

I think, therefore you explode.

This beauty here is my very own custom Monarch Chassis, courtesy of the Smith Shimano Corporation. This thing fields some of the most advanced guidance systems this side of the Long Rim PLUS the explosive ordnance to back it up. Despite its size and relative capacity for destruction, it's actually pretty quick. Being able to rapidly reposition, see over most other mechs and cover, field a wide array of high range weapons, and hack its opponents with its powerful on board computers and sensors, the Monarch makes for an excellent all-arounder run and gun mech. It's most impressive qualities are it's independently targeting Avenger Silos and its COMP/CON assisted seeking payload, a system that fires a missile at a target you can see only when it can absolutely guarantee the strike will be successful and an advanced computing algorithm that allows the Monarch to bypass all cover, armoring and resistances that it's enemies may have.

Now my Cogito is really something special. I've fitted her with some auxiliary concussion missiles of my own design, as well as a custom Smith Shimano ferrofluid paint job. She's also fitted with a good old GMS personal shield which comes in real handy (especially since the power draw starts pushing my reactor a bit which helps to fuel some other "dangerous" and "irresponsibly radioactive" personal modifications I've made to the Cogito).

As far as weapons she's fielding, We're packing a standard GMS Assault Rifle, because even with all the guided missiles in the system, sometimes all you need is a good old fashioned hail of bullets.

The next weapon is some total piece of shit I mounted before realizing that it didn't even work. Some rare piece of equipment some schmuck on the Icebreaker sold me, called it a "Verbal Gun" or something. I hooked it up with an SSC Stabilizer Mod and everything and when I took it down to the firing range to try it out, the damn thing wouldn't go off! Still looks pretty cool and had a decent camera built into the thing so I scrapped the original Monarch receptors and replaced it with that seeing as it was SSC compatible. Doesn't do anything too crazy but ever since I installed it every so often I'll get a pop up of a little guy on my hud when one of my squad mates takes a hit saying he's hungry and a button pops up to feed him some pellets. We'll whenever I press that pellet button the ferrofluid on my mech freaks the hell out and sorta... bites???? A chunk out of whoever just hit my teammate??? I've tried reaching out about it to my SSC contact but the messages never go through for some reason. Regardless, I'm gonna keep feeding him his "snicker-snacks", not just gonna let the poor little guy starve.

And last but not least. The Gandiva Missiles. Self guided rockets that lock onto anything with a computer and don't stop til they've given them a proper knock on the door if you know what I mean. I can hit anything with these bad boys, with or without my eyes closed. Each rocket is wirelessly in contact with the firing platform which is constantly sending and receiving combat data to a COMP/CON Hivemind out in the Core Worlds. In fact, I've gotten a couple messages from my sponsor contacts about some issues they've been having at the hivemind headquarters about some of their COMP/CON units getting infected with some kind of weird virus and that they suspect it may have something to do with my Gandivas in Calliope and their proximity to our unique dialect of COMP/CON (Shout out to my loyal camera man, Keith). Regardless of vocal quirks, this weapon is top of the line SSC firepower that I've been lucky enough to level at a number of Long Rim baddies.

Stay tuned for next time, where I'll be going over one of the other mechs piloted by Hell's Gate's finest.

Stay Frosty Brothbros! And remember! YOU ONLY NEED ONE ☝️😉!

[mamaestapa]

Adam fingering you in public…icebreaker moment

WARNING: SMUT!

you were out to dinner with the fantillis. adam was off for a few days, so the two of you decided to head up to ann arbor to watch the umich hockey team and meet up with adam’s family that was in town to watch luca.

the five of you were currently sitting in a restaurant in ann arbor, enjoying your food and having nice conversation when adam’s hand resting on your thigh toyed with the material of your white skirt. you glanced over at adam, he was acting unphased as spoke to luca, who was sitting across from him.

you gasped lightly as you felt adam fingers go under your skirt and sneak past the side of your lace panties. he began to slowly rub at your sensitive clit with his thumb. your hand gripped the edge of your chair as he entered two fingers into the entrance of your soaked core, his thumb still teasing your clit as he rhythmically pumped his fingers in out of you.

adam added another finger and picked up the pace, rubbing your clit faster. your legs began to twitch at his teasing motions. you brought your hand up to your mouth, muffling the whimper that escaped your mouth. luca looked at you with raised eyebrows, seeming concerned at the discomfort you were experiencing.

“you okay y/n?”

“mhm im fine-uh”

you had to clear your throat and apologize for the slight break in your voice, saying that you’d had some sinus drainage today. you couldn’t let his brother and parents find out what their youngest son was doing under the table…

you felt your walls tighten around adam’s fingers as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of your entrance. he was acting like nothing was happening and you were so close.

“how you liking ohio, y/n?”

“it’s-uh, it’s been good! sorry my throat again.”

“are you sure you’re okay y/n?”

“shes fine, right baby?”

“mhm, yep!”

you were trying so hard to hold back your moans of pleasure as you spoke. just as you were answering his moms question, adam brought you to your climax. you had to cover your moans with a cough once again. you pulled adam’s hand out of your skirt, your juices covered his fingers as he pulled them out of you.

adam glanced at you with a smirk on his face, he shot you a wink before cleaning his fingers off and talking to his brother like nothing happened.

[finitevoid]

d3 script doctor

ben and mal are being pressured to get married after they turn 18 because it would endear the other royals in auradon to the idea of the fact that the isle kids can be rehabilitated; mal being such a success in rehabilitation that the king marries her is a big deal. however shes not really being prepared sufficiently for the political side of things, just the appearance stuff. so when shes in the war room with beast belle & fg, they start really unsubtly pressuring her.

wouldnt it be safer if the barrier was shut forever? we're in danger right now. Mal. Mal, what do you think .?

and she chooses to close the barrier because if its a choice between her gang's safety vs. a bunch of random people on the isle, shes going to choose her gang no contest. ben throws a HUGE hissy fit and completely loses his mind. im talking yelling, maybe a little crying. this is his dream and hes the king but hes being strongarmed into this decision; beast belle & fg are using mal as their scapegoat, like look, shes from the isle and she agrees. and ben should say something like, shes from the isle, of course she agrees.

yowch.

ben stays with mal instead of turning into a beast for some reason. when the core 4 meet up with the sea 3 hes the one playing peacemaker while evie giggles cutely in the back about shrimps and chaos. evie is the first to come around to his peacemaking however, shes totally on board to work with the sea 3 but everytime she sidles up to be on ben's peacemaking side she has to school her expression into a not-laugh. she claps her hands like a youth counselor and suggests icebreaker games just to see the looks on everyones faces at the sheer ridiculousness of it. shes fucking with everyone

instead of coralling the sea 3, the core 4 slide back into old isle ways. theyre meaner, louder, brasher. when the sea 3 start stealing stuff the only reason jay fights it is because he doesnt like harry and he wants him to suffer. instead of being surprised at gil's delight, jay is nostalgic and charmed, and shows him more things that he wouldnt know about. carlos threatens to bite someone. etc

hannah is the girl's dorms RA

instead of just saving audrey's life the plan is to save her from death and then throw her on the isle (a fun foil to FG and beast creating the isle! yay). but the big blowout fight she had with her gang and uma pushes mal to see past her own selfishness. so she very publically drops her political clout persona, stands up for the isle, and when beast and belle try to stop her, she stomps on their metaphorical toes and tells them to shut up.

FG doesnt give up her wand, but the core 4 know without having to be told to chase and corner her into giving it up. (i think carlos should do this). jay is the one who presents her with the wand. then they stand in a line and break the barrier

the final shots are a lingering, contemplative scene in which the core 4 agree that they'll protect people from the violence that will be razed down by the newly freed isle residents, and then, lAst one to the hideouts a rotten apple!!!!!!!!!!!!! running off into the sunset

everything else can stay the same

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard - site update - companion blurbs and abilities. [source] Some of this information is new, including each companion's Abilities list.

Text reads:

"LACE HARDING Inquisition This dwarven scout has a positive outlook and a ready bow – as well as unexpected magical powers. At her core, Harding is still a girl from Ferelden; she loves adventure, animals, and nature and is fiercely protective of her family and friends. Abilities: Seismic Shot; Heavy Draw; Shred; Adrenaline Rush; Soothing Potion Harding's skills with the bow are unmatched - her arrows can stagger enemies and shred armor. DAVRIN Grey Wardens Bold and charming, this Grey Warden has made a name for himself as a monster hunter. Though he was raised in a Dalish clan, he craved excitement and adventure. He’d rather make history than reflect on it. Now, he cares for Assan, a young griffon. Abilities: Battle Cry; Death from Above; Heroic Strike; Assan Strike; In War, Victory Fiercely loyal, Davrin brings his enemies down hard with a combination of mighty attacks, teaming with Assan to keep their companions out of danger. BELLARA LUTARE The Veil Jumpers Bellara is creative, romantic, and obsessed with uncovering the secrets of ancient Elvhenan. She has a strong sense of self – a clear idea of who she is and what she wants – and will push herself to her limits to find the answers she seeks. Abilities: Fade Bolts; Enfeebling Shot; Replenish; Time Slow; Galvanized Tear Bellara manipulates the Fade and uses electricity and control magic to support her Companions and diminish the powers of their foes. TAASH The Lords of Fortune A Qunari dragon hunter allied with the Lords of Fortune, Taash lives for adventure and doesn't mind taking risks. While her interests include sparkling treasures and hitting things with an axe, Taash is also deeply knowledgeable about many topics. Abilities: Fire Breath; Dragon's Roar; Dragonfire Strike; Spitfire; Fortune's Favor Blunt and straightforward, Taash is a mighty warrior, who wields dual-axes and breathes out flames, igniting enemies with draconic fury. LUCANIS DELLAMORTE The Antivan Crows Lucanis is an expert assassin for whom the Antivan Crows are a family business. He is poised & pragmatic, but he’d rather not be the center of attention. His focus is usually on his work. Lucanis specializes in executing powerful mages and has earned himself the title Demon of Vyrantium. Abilities: Eviscerate; Abominate; Soothing Potion; Debilitate; Adrenaline Rush Lucanis stylishly deals necrotic damage in battle with his dual-daggers, whilst supporting his companions with potions and buffs. EMMRICH VOLKARIN The Mourn Watch A necromancer of Nevarra's Mourn Watch, this well-meaning scholar comes complete with a skeletal assistant, Manfred. Emmrich is as serious about his duty to protect innocents from the occult as he is about his studies and his interest in the mysteries of the fade. Abilities: Final Rites; Replenish; Entangling Spirits; The Bell Tolls; Time Slow Emmrich summons forth spirits of the dead to both entangle and hinder his enemies and heal his companions. NEVE GALLUS The Shadow Dragons A cynic fighting for a better future, Neve is both a private detective and a member of Tevinter's rebellious Shadow Dragons. Born and raised in a working-class neighborhood of Minrathous, she does not believe in the superiority of mages. Abilities: Icebreaker; Blizzard; Glacial Pace; Time Slow; Replenish Neve uses her talents as an ice mage to freeze and slow enemies, stopping them in their tracks."

[source]

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

a big part of the reason the hermetheus is so HUGE for twenty-something people is that it's kind of like a blimp or an icebreaker ship: it needs to be big to function efficiently, for reasons unrelated to how many people are on board. like the endertech based warp core needs to be really big or something. so then it's, well, what do you PUT in all this space? the answer ended up being "builds from the worlds we've been in"

.

[caw4brandon]

- Caw4B's : ANIS AND THE SERPENTS -

Anis Rusli makes another snakey return with a mild change in her design. Anis Rusli (Pronounced as: A-knee-s Rue's-lee) is a character based on a local Malaysian Legend.

Legends among village folk and fishermen in some parts of the Malaysian Peninsula tell tales of a mysterious phenomenon that they witnessed and survived to tell the tale. A creature that is suggested to be larger than the boats due to the amounts of bubbles it produces from beneath the murky waters.

The Sulur Bidar (Su-lur Bi-da-r) is a Man-eating carpet monster who is said to look like a normal carpet/Tikar (a type of woven mat) with snake heads for tendrils on each corner. In some illustrations, they are described to have a beautiful woman's head as a lure.

If you ever get curious and get too close. The Sulur Bidar will release a foul odor. Described to have a disgustingly old chicken eggs smell. The creature will then unleash its snake heads and drown its victims like a burrito to be consumed.

The legends say, the Sulur Bidar is a type of Jin/demon that likes to disturb/eat mortals. However, modern explorations believe that its a scientific phenomenon called, Oil and Gas. Which releases a lethal gas known as Hydrogen Sulphide.

- Meet ANIS RUSLI -

Anis Rusli is the human torso part of this body. A beautiful and rather young-looking girl who dwells on both the surface but mostly living in the wild by the local rivers. By appearance, she is about twenty-one-years-old or so but her actual age is centuries older.

In public, Anis is elusive. Often attempting to avoid contact. She is seen covering up from face to bottom in layers of clothes to avoid suspicion. However, once you get to know her. Anis is actually a cheery girl who is both kind-hearted and fiercely protective. Her serpent sisters are named as the following;

Tepi The Left - The Dominant and aggressive striker.

Depan The Bottom - The Mobility, muscle and biggest eater.

Belakang The Right - The Assistant and silly little jokester.

As a unit, They function in perfect synchronicity. Anis plans and leads her team. Depan moves defensively as the limb to avoid blind spots. Lastly, Tepi and Belakang strike opponents in turns.

- Anis Fun Facts -

The name; Anis is of Arabic origin. Meaning; genial or close friend.

Anis's voice is described as "sweet and soothing; may put you to sleep."

Anis's hair color is described as; Raspberry. A rather maroon-ish red with hints of purple in the mix.

Anis is a natural Bilingual. She is fluent in, Malay and English. She knows a little bit of Mandarin and Cantonese through Chinese and Hong Kong Dramas.

Anis and her sisters share a secret language. Some would even say its technically Parseltongue but Anis replies in Malay (Which is her native language)

The names of the Serpents is a reference to local icebreaker game known as [Tepi, Depan, Belakang] Translation; Side, Front, Back.

Contrary to her actual species, Anis hates eating humans and considers them as "junk food" She eats normal human food.

Anis's sisters however, eats regular snake food such as rats, bird eggs or other small mammals.

In MTCR, Anis is nicknamed as Guardian of the Emerald Forest and the Serpent Witch of Kingshaven.

Anis is inspired by three core characters; Sucy Manbavaran, Misato Katsuragi and Olivia "Liv" Octavius.