#if Dracula was just a murderer he’d be a human threat
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Annual reminder that despite all memes and adaptations to the contrary, Jonathan ‘If I die I hope Mina gets my diary as a goodbye :’c’ Harker acknowledged that something ominous was up as of DAY 2 in his little Transylvania travelogue. The only reason he wasn’t turning his ass around was, you know. Needing to Do This Incredibly Vital Assignment for His Brand New Job. If you put this boy in [PICK ANY HORROR MOVIE], he would be out of there two seconds after the opening credits
Halloween night in Haddonfield? My guy isn’t sticking around to meet Michael Myers and his killer kitchenware
Camp Crystal Lake is very lovely, he’s sure, the nice nubile college kids should send him and Mina a postcard while they’re hanging out at home
What’s that? There’s a haunted house with spirits chucking furniture around and you want to record it all for posterity? Neat, cool, awesome, write to him about it while he’s off in a restaurant somewhere talking up a chef and posting nice foodie reviews
This guy knows when horror story bullshit is happening even while being unaware of the fact that he is one of the main characters of Dracula.
He can smell what genre he’s in and does Not like it and would be out of there if he could, do not paint him as a one brain cell oblivious baby man
#part of the horror for this opening bit of the book is how clearly Jonathan is picking up the red flags#followed by how desperately he tries to hold onto rationality as a way to calm and reassure himself#because once the Horrors are fully acknowledged that means he must struggle with knowing#he’s truly in danger—and not just in the ways he would be if the threat was ‘normal’#if Dracula was just a murderer he’d be a human threat#but no#he’s fucking DRACULA#and Jonathan gets to learn just how existentially horrifying being his target is#…all of which comes AFTER acknowledging the preliminary Horror#jonathan harker#dracula#dracula daily#re: dracula
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Prologue
A Penthouse in Cincinnati Ohio
It was all planned out.
The prince held a meeting of his advisors every week like clockwork, and after the meeting was over he liked an hour of privacy to mull over what had happened. He sent away all his servants and guards so he could enjoy solitude. That was when they’d strike! He was just one old dried up corpse, what could go wrong?!
Well, he found out when they ambushed him from the closets of his room… and he moved like a blur and tore off Brian’s head, then grabbed the stake he’d brought in and drove it through Skeeter’s heart before turning around and punching a hole straight through Chris. Nate tried to grab him from behind but he had him by the leg before he knew what was happening and threw him through the window to crash into the streets below… and finally all that was left was him.
The prince stalked towards the surviving assassin, looking not even murderous but more annoyed as if he’d walked into his office and found a cat had gotten sick on the carpet. “Really now, did you think I wouldn’t know about some loudmouthed neonate planning my demise? Do you think this is the first time someone has tried this boy?” he sneered. He wasn’t a very tall man, infact the attacker was taller, and he was dressed in an outfit that would have looked more at home in a puritan meetinghouse than it would have in a modern penthouse (he wore it for official functions to remind those of just how ancient a vampire he was, and thus how powerful,) “You’re William’s childe aren’t you. The one he embraced for money. He’ll have a lot of explaining to do once we’re through here…” he smirked, and the shadows seemed to deepen around him.
The attacker was dressed in a baggy basketball jersey, long loose jeans hanging down to expose the top of his boxers, and designer sneakers. He had on some gold chains that jangled when he moved, and held a stake ready, and yet… he was terrified. This brought back memories of another night, when he had experienced his first real threat to his life. “Ain’t fuckin’ afraid of you Dracula!” he hissed between his fangs, but his trembling legs didn’t show it, “Humans know alla ‘bout weird shit now! We should just roll with it ‘n take over!” he spat. He tried to sound tough, like a ‘gangsta’ type, but this vampire was clearly nothing of the sort. The clothes were too new and clean, the chains polished and well kept, and clearly the only ‘gangstas’ he ever saw were in movies and on TV. A well-to-do white guy pretending to be tough by emulating what he saw as a teenager on MTV.
The prince smirked, his fangs extending, then suddenly he gasped and fell to his knees, then forward onto his hands as his eyes widened! His veins tightened within his body, the muscles locking up. “W-what…” he hissed, his eyes swiveling around as he felt his limbs rebel against him!
Then he heard in his ear, gentle as a moth’s wing brushing his flesh…
So sorry Archie, but after tonight’s little pow-wow we have a feeling this one will be a lot more open to our ideas than you were…
The vampire prince snarled, he knew that voice… “Traitors…” he growled under his breath, but his attacker saw him fall and rather than question it he raced forward and body-checked him onto his back, then sat and slammed the stake home!
The prince flailed and thrashed in pain, but couldn’t co-ordinate his limbs enough to move properly, as the young vampire looked confused. “Wait, that’s supposed to make ya freeze, right?”
Then he snapped his fingers and pulled it out, “Guess that wasn’t ya heart eh? Uh… uh…”
The prince heard an annoyed voice in his ear.
Ugh, neonates… I’ll do it myself!
Then the young vampire felt his arm suddenly move as if of it’s own accord and slam the stake down in the middle of the prince’s chest, just to the left of his sternum. Archibald, prince of the vampires of Cincinnati, trembled and fell still as his eyes rolled back in their sockets.
“Aight… now…” the young vampire leaned in and bared his fangs, then thrust them into the prince’s neck and began to drink deeply.
From there, instinct took over as he drew out the prince’s blood, pulling on the ancient vampire as Archibald’s vision began to darken. As he lost consciousness, he thought…
You fools… you put the jester on the throne thinking he’ll make a more pliable king… the vampire court will be in ruins by this time next year, mark my words…
Into his mind came the response, the same voice as before.
We’ll take our chances. See ya in Hell, Archie… oh wait, no we won’t.
The young vampire kept pulling and felt something else entering him. It wasn’t blood… it wasn’t anything physical… it was like that book he’d found said, it was whatever a vampire had that passed for their soul, and it was… indescribable. He felt powerful, he felt like he could do ANYTHING!
He leaned back as he finished and the prince’s body crumbled to dust under him… then suddenly the door to the prince’s chambers burst open and three men rushed in.
“Prince Archibald! We heard what sounded like a fight!” he shouted. He wore a dress shirt with pinstripes and suit pants, a pair of black leather shoes polished to a mirror shine. His tie was pinned in place, and it red patterned with gold… though if one looked close the gold made out odd rune like symbols on the material. He had glasses and slicked back hair.
“Dear god…” whispered another, this one was dressed as a dockworker might have back in the 1920s. A linen shirt and pants held up by suspenders, sturdy boots on his legs. He wore a flat cap and his muscles bulged against his outfit. “He… he killed the prince?! This neonate killed him?! HOW?!” he stuttered out, though... it sounded off, as if he was reading it from a script.
The young vampire froze as he saw them, then quickly stood and dusted off his clothes. “Yeah! That’s right! I killed the fucker, that means I’m in charge now, right?!” he demanded.
The three looked between themselves, sharing a grin, then one of them walked forward.
He was dressed in a suit that would have been popular in the disco era, a colorful jacket and pants with a wide tie. “Yeah, yeah that’s right boss. You took out the prince, so now you take his place.” he grinned, “What do we call you Prince…?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
The young man grinned widely; his fangs still wet with the former prince’s blood. “Al. Ya call me Al, and Boss works too.” he nodded.
Thus, in the shadows that evening, the fate of the undead of Cincinnati was decided.
Covington Kentucky
Across the river in Kentucky however, happier events were afoot.
Stephy sat before his computer in the Smith household, in his room across from Tex’s. Tara had insisted. She didn’t mind them being intimate, but sleeping together… well, in some ways she was a bit more traditional than her acceptance of her son and… gender undefined child… would suggest. Maybe when they were adults, but for now Stephy was just shy of his fifteenth birthday.
Stephy had decided to go with what Loren did regarding pronouns in the end. He? She? They? Stephy knew who they were, what they liked, and how they felt. What did they care what someone called them? Though, most of their classmates went with ‘she’ by default. It was hard not to at this point. Stephy’s time in Arcadia over the past few years had left him downright androgynous, with long blonde hair and eyes the color of the sky on a cloudless day in Winter, so the only way they could guess was by what he wore… and it was a rare thing to see him ever not wearing a skirt or dress these days. He was currently wearing a white nightdress under a matching robe as he looked through a website for prom dresses, the school hosting a Fall Dance soon.
There was a knock at the door and he looked up from the computer, idly tucking some hair behind his now rather prominently pointed ear. Mortals couldn’t see it, but those who knew him well could.
“Hey filly, mind if I come in?” came Tex’s voice.
Stephy giggled, “I never mind that, go ahead.” he smiled.
Tex walked into the room, wearing just a teeshirt and flannel pajama bottoms. His blonde hair was a bit shaggy, due for a haircut eventually, and he had the beginnings of a mustache and small beard on his chin now. The changes he got in the Nightside following Roger Fullmoon’s demise had ensured that he had the body he’d wanted, and it was aging just as such a body would have. In time he might even get a full beard, but for now it gave him a sort of rouge-ish charm that Stephy found quite delightful.
“Ya’ll pick yer dress yet Princess?” he asked, leaning in and kissing Stephy’s forehead.
The changeling boy let out a little squeal at that, then shook his head, “Ugh, no! I just can’t decide… and everything I have back in Arcadia is far too formal! I’d be the only person there dressed like I was doing Disney cosplay!” he sighed, flipping through the designs again.
Tex chuckled, “Well, mom found a few dress shops local. Maybe actually tryin’ some on would help?” he suggested, “We got a couple weeks left, why don’t we try that on Saturday eh?”
Stephy thought, then nodded and closed the browser, “I suppose its worth a shot, and you know I’ll never turn down a chance to dress up.” he grinned.
Tex smiled back at him, “It’s a date then.” he nodded.
Thus, on an evening of joy and excitement for two of our friends, and blood and plotting for one who would be a future foe did a new Supernatural Adventure begin.
Next Story
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w(h)ip wednesday
It's a surprisingly quaint little farm, the kind of thing some traveller from the far-away west might paint into his little journal and tell all the Belgians and Austrians and French about. Green hills rise up in a gentle roll, with occasional stones that must have tumbled down from God-knows-where, looking pushed up through the grass and the barley like crooked teeth. Sheep meander among the gray rocks, bleating occasionally to each other and munching on the plants.
As they step past the low wooden fence, Trevor spots a goat chewing cud in a pen. It stares disinterestedly at them, eyes gleaming with that peculiar mix of cunning and stupidity native to goats. If it was ever a person, their mind seems long gone, he thinks, replaced by a goat's determination to be the biggest pain in the arse it possibly can.
They keep going and find a yard full of chickens. Here chickens, there chickens, everywhere fucking chickens. Mostly roosters, judging by the wattles, which he finds odd, and when Sypha steps too close to a hen, one of the stupid cockerels jumps at her. His wings flutter, feathers flying further than he can, and he seems determined to murder her with talon, beak, or both. He makes the most insane noises as he does it, like metal screaming.
It's instinct to try and put himself between her and something trying to hurt her. Even something as small and stupid and surprisingly vicious as a pissed-off chicken. He raises his arms to block the pecks and scratches, glad of the fur-and-leather vambraces, thick enough that he feels nothing.
"Calm the hell down," Trevor says, and puts a boot to the bird, which doesn't improve his disposition, exactly, but does manage to make him reconsider attacking. "I'll do it again," Trevor warns him, and immediately feels like an idiot.
But the rooster subsides, sulky, glaring at them both with beady eyes.
And the cabin door swings open. The woman who steps outside isn't quite pretty, but she's striking. He thinks her nose might have been broken, once, and her hair falls loose around her shoulders in a riot of deep red that catches in the sun.
But it's her hands he's most interested in, and, just like every family book always said, they tell the real story to him immediately.
Her face may look youngish -- certainly only of middle years -- but her hands, too pale, have wrinkles and liver spots, a sure sign of a witch. The deep, nearly black bruising that extends from the nail to the second knuckle of her littlest fingers, however, is the mark of a witch who has embraced questionable magic, if not outright reveled in the foulest and blackest of workings.
Beside him, Sypha moves to wave one arm. "You must be Sârșe," she says, and he can hear that she's smiling.
The woman inclines her head. "I am. And who might you be?"
"I"m Sypha, and this is Trevor." She jabs at him with an elbow. He doesn't jab back, but mostly because he's trying to figure Sârșe out.
"Hello," he says, about a second after Sypha's pointy elbow makes contact a second time.
Sârșe watches them both. Absolutely no emotion colors her face. Even her eyes look flat and lifeless, no more interested in them as people than the goat had been. "What have you come to find?"
He sighs. "Oh, we found it already."
"Trevor," Sypha hisses.
But Trevor ignores her. "Look, we know you're a witch. Well, Sypha suspects. But I know. And I don't care about the whole," here, he makes a sort of quotation mark with the fingers of both hands, "'demons into chickens' thing. Not sure anybody should be eating those, but it's not my business."
The very furthest corner of Sârșe's mouth curls up for about a second before smoothing back down. Her gaze remains flat. "And what is your business?"
"I'm not saying I expect you to turn them all back, mind, because I know that's not how it works. But how many of your sheep used to be people?"
He's a little relieved when, rather than hotly deny it, Sârșe licks her lips. "All of them," she says, calmly, like she doesn't care at all.
Well, that explains at least one of her fingers. Hell, he's a little surprised it hasn't spread further.
Sypha's the one to step forward and ask, "Do you have any plans to stop?"
Sârșe stares between them for what feels like several minutes. It's probably not even a whole minute of its own, but it sinks its teeth into him and drags. Her eyes look like empty wells, endless and awful.
"No," she says, still very calm.
"Told you," he mutters to Sypha. "When they're this far gone, they don't really listen to reason."
That draws Sârșe's attention. She snaps her head to look at him. Something even darker stirs in her dark eyes, moving and shifting, and they bite into him. He doesn't look away, but he wants to, because eyes like those see, and the brain behind them judges, and men are always found wanting in a gaze like that.
Found wanting and then turned into farm animals. And then potentially sold at fucking market day, to be slaughtered and eaten. Christ.
"Do you think yourself such a hero, Trevor Belmont?"`
He lets out a short bark of a laugh. "I helped kill fucking Dracula, sure. But what I was really doing was helping a man kill his own father. What kind of hero is that?"
She repeats the question back at him, emphasizing it. "What kind of hero is that, Trevor Belmont?"
"No kind at all," he replies.
And, for the first time, she smiles. It's terrible and pitying. "Will you kill fucking Sârșe? And if you do, what will you really have done?"
Sypha fields this one. "We'll have stopped animals that used to be people being sold and eaten by those who once knew them. You have to admit that's grotesque."
"I admit no such thing. They know who I am. They know the consequence of crossing me. They know what I bring to market day. They choose to buy from me regardless. Their business is no business of mine."
God, witch logic. It's all perfectly factual, but frustratingly circular in a way he can't put words to. A sort of pure, unfeeling truth that leaves no room for honesty or humanity. Infuriating.
"Yeah, done with you, now," Trevor says, and draws the Vampire Killer. Consecration is little good against witches except in their hands, but the Morningstar would be worse than useless.
Where's a rowan branch when you need one? Not that there would be a single rowan tree on this property; they would have all died the first time she took a piss here. Hell, if he were half the Belmont that Sypha thinks he is, he'd have a fucking pouch of salt on him, and he doesn't. Their salt is in the wagon with their goddamned cooking supplies.
Sypha conjures a ring of fire, driving away all the chickens and other animals from the farm, and Sârșe's eyes widen for a moment. She looks between them again, gaze darting from Sypha to Trevor, trying to determine if the Belmont or the fellow magician is the bigger threat.
She apparently decides on him, because she flings an arm out and tries to drag him toward her.
Trevor, more used to this sort of thing by now than he likes, drops forward. He lets himself fall, and feels the grip of the spell break as his weight pulls him away from it. His hands hit the ground first, and he pulls himself into a roll, coming up on one knee.
He lashes out with the whip, half-turning to improve its force as he lets his arm flow then jerks his wrist. The line sings out, tip whistling, and the metal end bites into her hand.
Her finger flies away, landing with a sort of wet, useless noise in the dirt.
Sârșe doesn't even scream. She just looks between her now maimed hand and the finger on the ground.
"That was very stupid," she says, somehow wholly unbothered by the fact that he just tore off part of her hand, a part she probably uses pretty often. She raises the same hand, even as it bleeds, and makes a curling gesture with her remaining fingers.
Once again something grips him, trying to pull him closer.
When she raises her other hand, Sypha slides sideways, colliding with one of the wooden fences. It cracks with the force she hits it at, splintering.
He's not thinking when he sends the whip out again. It's anger that drives him to it, and this time, he gets her in one of those tainted, blackened littlest fingers, and Sârșe screams. At first it's just a gurgling sound of pain, thin and high, like any woman might make when a man reached out and hurt her because he could.
But then it turns to something else. Something thick and strange sounding, that scratches at his ears and the air around him.
"I name you worm, that crawls in the dust," Sârșe says. "I name you dog, that licks his master's hand. I name you cock, that lords himself over nothing. I name you buck-goat, that ruts and farts, and I name you pig, that wallows in shit."
Absolutely no imagination on the woman. He supposes whatever demon she serves, or made a deal with, or whatever, has probably long eaten it. "People have really got to find worse things to call me."
Sârșe laughs. "What a strange worry," she says casually. "But needless. You'll call yourself all those things, in the end, and worse." And she raises both hands, and this time, she really does manage to pull him in, mostly because he lets her.
Once he's close, she smears her blood on his cheek and smiles that terrible, pitying, dark-eyed smile, and the empty wells of her eyes stare at him, judgmental, even as he sinks one of his knives into her throat.
He pays no attention to the witch's body after that. Instead, he runs for Sypha. She'd fallen among the splinters, and he doesn't even think about kneeling, about passing his hands over her to feel for blood, for anything sticking out or misplaced.
"Are you alright? That was some hit." And fuck him, his job is to be the one taking the hits. He still hasn't forgiven himself for the scars on her upper arm from their fight with Dracula.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," she grumbles. "Help me up."
He does, splaying one hand under her back and supporting her under the elbow with his other hand. He hefts her up, taking most of her weight, and she stumbles a little as she rises. She leans heavily against him, and he lets her, wrapping one arm loosely around her shoulders. "You're sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine," she snaps, predictably irritated, and waves a hand at him. "Leave it be."
"Alright, alright, if you say so. And, well, she's dead. If we're lucky, some of these people might start turning back. Do we want to be here for that?" They probably should. He thinks his uncle would have. His father certainly would have.
#netflix castlevania#castlevania fic#wip wednesday#whip wednesday#trephacard#trevor belmont#sypha belnades#witchbottle
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A Beginner’s Guide to Marvel Zombies
https://ift.tt/eA8V8J
This article contains spoilers for Marvel’s What If…?
Man, Marvel’s What If…? series really does draw you in with a false sense of security, doesn’t it? The first episode is an adorable romance story laced with punching Nazis. The second is a tribute to a late actor in the form of galactic utopia. Then we get the Avengers being murdered, the universe being melted, and now Captain America eating human flesh. Enjoy your nightmares, kids!
The fifth episode of What If…? is a bit of a fanservice choice. For the latter half of the 2000s, Marvel was riding the Marvel Zombies train like nothing else.
While the first use of the concept came in 2005, one could consider What If…? v.2 #24 (What If Wolverine Was Lord of the Vampires?) to be the prototype. The story involved Dracula turning the X-Men into vampires, but Wolverine’s healing factor allowed him to overwhelm Dracula’s control and fight back. He then littered New York City with vampire heroes and humanity’s last hope came in the form of the Punisher wearing Dr. Strange’s cape.
Mark Millar
The first real use of Marvel Zombies was more of a prank than anything else. Mark Millar and Greg Land were doing Ultimate Fantastic Four and all signs pointed to the idea that they were setting up a crossover. Not just any crossover, but THE crossover. Marvel had been adamant about the Ultimate Universe being separated from main continuity, but solicitations and covers made it seem like the two Reed Richards counterparts were going to meet up. Much of Ultimate Fantastic Four #21 played into this with Ultimate Reed conversing with an alternate universe Reed who very much resembled the mainstream one. Ultimate Reed created a portal to go visit him.
What he found was zombie incarnations of the Fantastic Four with Reed asking, “Ever had the feeling you’ve been had?”
Robert Kirkman
The rest of the arc was about Ultimate Reed trying to survive and escape that world with the help of that world’s Magneto. This set the stage for the first Marvel Zombies miniseries, written by The Walking Dead’s Robert Kirkman with art by Sean Phillips (Arthur Suydam did zombie parody covers of classic Marvel art, which would continue for several more miniseries). Initially, Kirkman wanted to do a story about Luke Cage being the last hero alive, playing up his unbreakable skin as a deterrent, but since the Ultimate Fantastic Four arc already depicted Zombie Luke Cage, that was off the table.
Instead, his story involved two main arcs. One was the survival of Black Panther, who – much like the animated What If…? episode – was kept alive, albeit with his limbs being gradually removed for the sake of being zombie food without infecting the body. While the cartoon had Scott Lang’s disembodied head, the comic had a decapitated Zombie Wasp as Panther’s ally. She was never cured of the disease, but she did stop being hungry after a while and came to her senses.
The other story was about Earth’s zombified heroes dealing with the coming of the Silver Surfer and Galactus. A handful of them went on to devour the invaders and absorb their cosmic powers, along with their cosmic hunger. Hank Pym, Iron Man, Luke Cage, Wolverine, Spider-Man, and the Hulk went on to wipe out nearly all life in the universe as the Zombie Galacti. The follow-up was the basis for Marvel Zombies 2.
As for what caused the zombie outbreak in the beginning, that’s where things get a little hairy. The Ultimate Fantastic Four story revealed that a Zombie Superman (recolored to be the Sentry so as not to piss off DC) got so hungry that he punched reality until breaking into an alternate universe and infecting its heroes.
Kirkman and Phillips did a one-shot prequel called Marvel Zombies: Dead Days that suggested that Magneto bartered with some force to unleash the virus on Earth, thinking that it would only target humans and not mutants. Then a later miniseries called Marvel Zombies Return created an alternate universe time-loop where the zombies from Marvel Zombies continuity ended up in another universe, where they caused an outbreak, infected that world’s Sentry, and Zombie Sentry ended up popping into the Marvel Zombies universe to cause the initial outbreak.
Did anybody follow that? I hope so. Either way, Zombie Sentry was never mentioned again. He infected the heroes and then…nothing. Just a loose plot thread. Weird. Though fitting that the Sentry stopped being a threat because people forgot about him.
Crossovers
The initial Marvel Zombies universe was revisited here and there in several ways. Black Panther’s comic (during when he was leader of the Fantastic Four) journeyed into that universe and dealt with the Zombie Galacti. Ash from Army of Darkness got his own cool crossover miniseries taking place during the initial outbreak. Zombie Wolverine showed up in an Exiles story about a team made entirely out of Wolverine variants. Zombie Deadpool (Headpool) became a major part of the short-lived Deadpool Corps. Marvel Zombies also did a crossover with Marvel Apes.
There was also a one-shot called Marvel Zombies Halloween that revealed that Kitty Pryde and her son survived, while also showing what Mephisto was up to in this reality.
Fred Van Lente
With Marvel Zombies 3, Fred Van Lente started writing and brought the series in a different direction. He introduced ARMOR, a SHIELD offshoot based on dealing with alternate realities. While it still dealt with the Marvel Zombies universe, focus was more on the mainstream Marvel universe as it tried to prevent an invasion. The protagonists for the story were Machine Man and Jocasta. In the follow-up, Marvel Zombies 4, Morbius brought the Midnight Sons back together to save the world from a possible outbreak.
Van Lente’s swansong was Marvel Zombies 5, which was about Machine Man and Howard the Duck venturing into different zombie universes for reasons. After that came Marvel Zombies Supreme, taking place in regular Marvel continuity and featuring Battlestar and Jack of Hearts fighting zombie versions of the Squadron Supreme. Then came the last gasp for the line with 2012’s Marvel Zombies Destroy, where ARMOR sends Howard the Duck and Dum Dum Dugan to fight an alternate reality filled with zombie Nazis.
The Zombie Saga Continues
They did get a shot in the arm a few years later with Secret Wars. The event featured a world made up pieces of alternate Earths, haphazardly connected together. There’s a No Man’s Land on this Earth that’s filled with zombies and homicidal robots. It’s basically a place to dump criminals for execution.
A couple more stories were released, though neither had any connection to the original Marvel Zombies or the stuff with ARMOR. Marvel Zombie was a one-shot about a band of heroes trying to survive a zombie apocalypse, who end up teaming with Simon Garth, Marvel’s Zombie. The ending is…well, it sure is something.
More recently is Marvel Zombies: Resurrection. This one is about the Brood infesting and killing Galactus. The race evolves into a hivemind of zombies, all very interested in infecting Franklin Richards. The heroes for this one include Spider-Man, a Sentinel reprogrammed to be Franklin and Valeria’s nanny, a blind Wolverine, a techno-organic Frank Castle, and a SUPER EXCITED Blade.
Also of note is Marvel Universe vs. The Punisher and its sequels (Marvel Universe vs. Wolverine and Marvel Universe vs. The Avengers). This reality also dealt with a zombie superhero apocalypse, but in a different and more coherent way. Instead of being a virus, it was a bio weapon let loose into the ecosystem. That meant that presumably everyone was going to succumb to it eventually, turning into a savage cannibal. The Punisher, who was inadvertently behind the mess and was immune, would spend his days hunting down and beheading heroes. Also, he’d have to kill Deadpool on a nearly daily basis.
That’s Marvel Zombies in a nutshell.
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The post A Beginner’s Guide to Marvel Zombies appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3tqMadj
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To Challenge The Flow Of Fate PT. 5
An Adrian Tepes (Alucard) x Reader Story
Warnings: Explicit Language Author’s Note: So I was inebriated for the first portion of PT. 5 so excuse any errors. I’ll fix ‘em tm lol. Enjoy! -Thorne
Movement roused her from her slumber, and she shifted, wrapping her arm around whatever was moving. It stilled, and she groaned, burying her face deeper into the fabric against her. A low chuckle sounded in her ears, causing her fingers to twitch. “(Y/N), you’ve been asleep for almost nine hours. Don’t you think it’s time to get up?” She groaned again, burrowing her face closer to the warmth.
“Mmm…ten more minutes…” The owner of the voice chuckled again, gently caressing her cheek.
“You might need ten more minutes, but your annoyance of a brother has now threatened me seven times for being close to you.” (Y/N) huffed a laugh, cracking one open, shifting her gaze to the golden eyed vampire smiling at her.
“Are you sure I can’t lie here for a few more minutes?” Adrian huffed, shaking his head.
“While I don’t see a problem with it, I wouldn’t,” He raised his fingers making quotation marks and recounted, “want to be ‘stabbed up through my testicles to my heart.’” (Y/N) tipped her head back, cackling loudly; when she calmed, she pulled away, stretching her arms above her head.
“Yeah…that sounds like Trevor.” She glanced at Adrian and offered, “Sorry, he’s an overprotective jackass sometimes.” He shook his head and stood, offering his hand to her. (Y/N) took it, allowing him to pull her up. He tugged and she stumbled forward, landing against his chest. She placed a hand against his shoulder, pulling away quickly, a warmth rising to her cheeks. “Oh, uh, sorry about that.” Adrian shook his head, a warmth of his own climbing under his skin.
“No, it’s my fault. I didn’t mean to pull so hard.” (Y/N) shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it.” Thrusting his coat into his arms, she turned, pointing towards one of the rows. “I’m gonna go find Trevor.” She listened to his laughter sounding in her ears as the warmth spread across her face. An hour later, she stumbled across Trevor staring at a sword he’d found. (Y/N) plopped down next to him, leaning into his side. “Whatcha find over here?” He glanced up from the silver sword, then back to the blade.
“Sword.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she crossed her legs.
“No shit smartass.” She rested her elbow on her knee, propping her chin on her hand. “Was that father’s sword?” He tipped his head side to side.
“I think it is. It’s been awhile since I saw it.” Trevor handed it to her, watching as she thrust it out in front of her, eyes focused straight down the blade.
“I’d’ve thought he’d taken it with him.” (Y/N) passed the sword back over and he returned it to its scabbard.
“Wouldn’t have done much good.” She looked away and he added, “He must’ve put it back in here because he knew we’d end up getting in here somehow.” (Y/N) nodded, resting back against the bookshelf. She observed him for a moment before muttering,
“I know that face…you want to talk about our life choices.” Trevor didn’t look at her, but his grip tightened along the scabbard.
“We do need to talk (Y/N)…about Alucard.” (Y/N) placed her hand in his peripheral vision, her palm flat as if to say, ‘enough’, and firmly stated,
“His name is Adrian, and if we’re going to talk about him, you’re going to use his name properly.” Her brother turned to her, and she met his eyes, staring at him. He didn’t say anything at first, but then he said,
“You need to be careful about how close you’re getting to Adrian.” She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why? Because he’s a vampire?” Trevor nodded.
“That, and because he’s Dracula’s son.” (Y/N) looked over at him and scowled,
“Yeah, and his mother was a human. Mind you, he’s trying to stop his father because it’s what Lisa would’ve wanted.” He opened his mouth, but she raised her pointer finger. “Trevor, I get that you’re concerned, but if Adrian wanted to kill us, or at least harm us, he wouldn’t wait until we were in the middle of a fight with his father, he’d have done it between leaving the crypt and arriving here.” (Y/N) watched Trevor’s expression darken, and she rested her hand atop his. “Look, I get that you’re concerned about me, and I thank you for that, but I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, and my love life.” Trevor looked away for a moment, then glanced back at her and whispered,
“Does it have to be him?” (Y/N) snorted, resting her head on his shoulder.
“You say that like I’ve got a choice.” He grunted at her, crossing his arms across his chest.
“I mean, you could choose someone else.” Trevor looked down at her. “A priest. You could choose a priest and I’d be okay with that.” (Y/N) laughed at his statement.
“Priests can’t get married Trevor.”
“They can before they become priests.”
“But I thought you hated priests?”
“I do…but I hate them less than I hate that asshat.” She whacked his arm and corrected,
“Adrian’s not an asshat Trev…he’s just…lost…” A frown grew on her face and she whispered, “He needs someone to stay beside him Trevor…he’s hurting inside.”
“You don’t need to be nor are the one to save him.” (Y/N) nodded.
“You’re right. I can’t save him.” She looked up, meeting his gaze. “But I can help him.” She knew her words were resonating in him, and she squeezed his hand. “Trevor, I know you wanna keep me safe and protect me, but I’ve seen just how bad this world can be…and so has Adrian…except he’s never had someone to stand beside him to help carry all his hurt with him.” (Y/N) turned her gaze to the upper levels of the Hold, catching Adrian and Sypha in her vision. “My job is to help people…and I can help him. I certainly can’t fix all his hurt, but I can be there to listen and to help him weed his way through it.” She looked back at her brother. “You know I’m right Trevor.” A grimace appeared on his face, and he went quiet for a few moments, then he sighed heavily and nodded.
“…Yeah…I know you are.” He shook his head. “I still don’t like the idea of you getting close to him.” (Y/N) grinned, resting her head back on his shoulder.
“I know…but it could be someone worse Trevor.”
A Few Hours Later:
She ran her fingers up the column of a book, pulling it out to scan its contents. She leaned against the bookshelf, reading the pages when she felt a presence beside her. (Y/N) waited for him to speak. “Reading something interesting?” She nodded, showing him the book.
“Sir Gawain and The Green Knight.” She nodded towards a book on the shelf. “I think there’s a copy of Beowulf right there…I was going to read it once I was finished with this.” Adrian picked up the book, flipping through it.
“I haven’t read this in a while.” (Y/N) glanced up at him, watching his golden eyes scan the words.
“You’re well read, aren’t you Adrian.” He looked over at her and nodded.
“Well, my father was a polymath and my mother was a doctor, so much of my childhood literature was educational.”
“Bummer then. Fictional works are fantastic.”
“They’re fantasy.” (Y/N) closed the book with a snap, pulling the book from his grip to put it away.
“Yeah, but that’s what makes them great.” He arched an eyebrow, following her around the bookshelf.
“How so?” She snorted, running her fingers along the spines as she walked down the aisle.
“Haven’t you ever read a book and imagined yourself within the story? To be apart of the world within the literature?” He paused a moment, then nodded.
“Yes, I have.” (Y/N) spun around, taking his hands in hers.
“Doesn’t make you feel alive? Like everything around you doesn’t exist?” Adrian nodded.
“It does.” She smiled, lifting one of his arms to twirl under it.
“Fictional works allow you to bring to life all that goes on up here.” (Y/N) reached up, gently tapping his forehead with her pointer finger. “Worlds beyond wonder exist behind our eyes…and it’s okay to sometimes close your eyes and live within them.” He stared at her as if she’d said something profound, and she pulled away, moving down the aisle. “Tell me about your childhood, Adrian.” He followed her, thinking about his childhood.
“It was…a good one. My parents loved me, and they raised me well.” She glanced at him as she pulled another book from a shelf.
“Did you ever get to play with kids your age?” He nodded.
“A few times, here and there. My father moved the castle around and wherever we’d end up, I’d accompany my mother to the village where she would treat the people there.” (Y/N) paused and looked back at him.
“Tell me about Lisa.” At this, he stopped moving, eyes clouding over with an emotion she could only recognize as sadness.
“My mother…was the most beautiful and kindest woman I ever knew. Obviously, she didn’t put up with anyone’s shit…but still, she was so kind and caring to everyone, even if they were the most evil being alive.” (Y/N) stepped closer to him and quietly asked,
“How did you find out she was murdered?” Adrian didn’t look at her and he shut his eyes, whispering,
“I returned to my mother’s hut to find it burned down. The old lady she’d treated just before she was taken was there…she…told me the church had taken her to Târgoviște.” She watched him swallow thickly as he began shaking his head. “I travelled as fast as I could, but by the time I arrived…she was already…she was…” His words fell short and she brought up her hand, resting it on his arm. Adrian took a shuddering breath and continued. “When I returned to the Castle, my father had issued his threat to Târgoviște, and I tried to oppose him.” (Y/N) caught sight of the red scar peeking above his shirt and she reached out and traced the tip of it.
“That’s how you got this, I assume?” He nodded, reaching up to hold her hand firmly against the spot she was tracing. (Y/N) felt his heart thumping underneath and she offered him a sad smile. “I’m sorry you witnessed such horrors, Adrian. No one deserves to witness that…and they especially don’t deserve it to be someone they care for.” He gazed at her, golden eyes filled with a sadness that bled so much, she felt it in her bones. He reached up and caressed her cheek, his thumb gently rubbing her skin.
“Neither did you.” (Y/N) let a smile cross her lips and she shook her head.
“No, you don’t get to turn this over on me right now Adrian Tepes.” His brows furrowed and she reached up, placing her hand atop his, curling her fingers into his palm. “Right now, it’s your time to be comforted, not comforting.” Adrian chuckled, pulling his hand away.
“You are very good at making people open up about their pasts, (Y/N).” She shrugged, flashing him a cocky grin.
“I’d even go as far to say that it’s one of my best perks.” She paused, then tipped her head side to side. “Well, that, my fighting prowess, and my boobs.” For a split second, Adrian’s gaze flitted down, and she snapped her fingers, bringing them back upwards immediately. “Oi. My eyes are not on my chest.” A flush rose up on his cheeks causing her to cackle as she turned around, prancing around the other side of the shelf.
“I’m…I am…sorry.” The warmth across his skin only darkened as she cackled louder. When she calmed, she asked,
“So…what were you and Sypha talking about earlier?”
“Are you jealous?” (Y/N) scoffed.
“Oh please, it’s obvious to see that she’s not into you. We both know who she’s fancying.” Adrian grunted, then said,
“We were talking about bits of my childhood…and your brother.” She chuckled.
“Was it how annoying he was?”
“More or less.”
“And your childhood?”
“We talked about how well-read I was, Sypha mentioned a box full of works on phalluses, then I told her I grew quickly as a child.” (Y/N) went silent for a moment, then muttered,
“I’m gonna have to ask her where that box was...” She cleared her throat then asked, “You grew up fast? I thought you had a good childhood?” He nodded.
“I did. I’m being literal. I aged very quickly.” (Y/N) hummed, then quipped,
“So that explains why you’re acting like a rebelling teenager despite the fact that you’re an adult.” The sound of falling books reached her ears and she worried, “Adrian? Are you alright?” He didn’t respond, but she could hear him grumbling as he picked up the books, and she let out a laugh. “Oh, I see…Sypha said something extremely similar, didn’t she?”
“No…maybe…” This caused her to laugh more.
“Not fun when you’re on the receiving end of the truth talk, is it Adrian?”
“Yes, yes, laugh it up Lady Belmont. I’m glad you find my misfortune so funny.” (Y/N) peered around the shelf, watching him slide the last book into place.
“Oh Lord Tepes, I’d never laugh at your poor misfortune. To do so would be a shameful display on my part.” She watched a grin grow on his lips as he looked over at her.
“Something tells me you know all about shameful displays.” (Y/N) narrowed her eyes and murmured,
“And I bet you’d like to see them, hmm?” Before he could respond, Sypha shouted for her and Trevor.
“Trevor! (Y/N)! I found something!” (Y/N) looked over the railing down to her as Trevor looked up from the bottom floor and called,
“What?” Sypha pointed to the book.
“I found something you need to see!” Her brother grunted.
“Uh, when I say ‘what’, that doesn’t mean ‘I would like to ask even more questions’.” (Y/N) swore the Speaker was going to chuck the book at his head as she vexed,
“Would you please-oh you are the most annoying, just stop!” Trevor let out a dramatic sigh and muttered,
“Alright…I’m coming up.” Sypha smiled and exclaimed,
“I think I’ve found a locking spell. Wait! Listen! Your family have an entire literature here about the castle. They tried for centuries to eliminate its main advantage. It transports itself through magical means!” Adrian passed behind (Y/N), leaning on the railing beside her as Trevor climbed the stairs.
“Right. So, you can’t attack it if it just jumps somewhere else.” The Speaker nodded.
“Yes! Some clever Belmont eventually formulated most of a locking spell! A method to catch the castle and lock it down to a single location so that it can be invaded!” Adrian crossed his arms, deeply in thought then inquired,
“Most of it?” Sypha nodded.
“I can finish the final clauses of it myself. It’s all based on Adamical structures.” The vampire pulled away from the railing, and (Y/N) followed, flipping over the barrier, landing with a thud.
“You keep saying that word.”
“Adamic is the original human language. The one spoken by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. The one that was split into all other languages at the Tower of Babel by God to prevent human cooperation.” Both (Y/N) and Adrian raised an eyebrow, and he asked,
“Is that how you understand that story?” (Y/N) leaned over and whispered,
“I thought the story of the Tower of Babel was how God was concerned that humans had blasphemed by building the tower to avoid a second flood, so God brought into existence multiple languages. Then the existence of other languages was created.” Sypha waved a hand.
“We Speakers are the enemy of God. We live in cooperation and hide our stories inside ourselves so he cannot strike them down in jealously.” The two Belmonts and the vampire shared a look, but said nothing, then the sound of rumbling shook the Hold. They turned their gazes upwards, and Sypha announced, “See! God hates me!” The rumbling grew louder, and the Hold began to shake more, and (Y/N) watched dust fall from the ceiling. A cry came from somewhere above, and (Y/N) and Trevor’s hands immediately went to the swords they had sheathed. Adrian looked at them and emphasized,
“That’s probably not God.” (Y/N) looked at Sypha.
“How fast can you finish the spell?” The Speaker looked at the book then back to her.
“I need some time.” She nodded, looking at Adrian.
“You get the mirror to the index and start working on it while Sypha finishes the spell.” (Y/N) eyed Trevor. “Let’s go.” He nodded, and the two ran towards the staircases, weapons unsheathed and ready.
#adrian tepes imagines#adrian tepes imagine#adrian tepes x reader#adrian tepes x reader imagines#adrian tepes x reader imagine#adrian tepes#trevor belmont#sypha belnades#vlad dracula tepes#lisa of lupu#castlevania#castlevania imagine#castlevania imagines
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okay so.. season 3
i have some thoughts, on the main front being that the 2 sex scenes were more uncomfortable than the weird Hannibal/Will/Alaina threesome, completely redundant in showing character growth and simply there to shock the audience. well, we've been shocked. and shown once again that a pg-18 rating is synonymous with a get out of jail sexual assault card. 'but its adult content!' shut up, sit yo ass down.
alucard needed to be betrayed, i get that. for season 3s theme of 'living ones given lot in life'. sypher won a lot in her life, trevor lost a lot. their month is a direct reflection of that especially with the powerful 'we've been living your life, now we're living mine' line. issac is killing and forging humans, may still be v loyal to drac but at least seems to think a bit? Hector gets betrayed again, used for his powers and his 'childlike mind' (btw, wtf. why?)
alucard needed to live the alucard life, killing someone he loved because they hurt him/the ones he loved. and he needed to learn that just because he met 2 decent humans doesn't speak for humanity, no matter what his mom says. be safe kids.
that's just from a story writers perspective. but instead of giving me the urge for a cleansing bleach gurgle, they could have just let the twins?? steal his castle?? if they want it so much?
i know, i know, canon and all that shit but that would have been a better plot hook? you can still let him mope and cry because he failed and shit without assaulting him? let him be stationary in a home that's not his own (because he wouldn't look for the castle alone, he dealt with a crazy father by taking a nap guys) or literally anything else.
okay. issac. i know its kinda the point but boy. going with a horde of known monsters and killers into a city and expecting them to roll over? they don't know you are still undecided on their fate! they are just doing their job in this case. protecting the city against a known threat. they even asked him to leave pretty nice! but yeah, issacs arc was okay i guess. don't really get his murder boner for hector since he very well knows that alucard and crew killed dracula and not hector?
oh hector. they looked at the reek arc from got and thought 'this but with puppy play and just enough hinting at bdsm practices so that we don't have to say anything for ppl to think about it'. its disgusting. all of it.
and im normally someone who enjoys a good torture arc. i gobble that shit up. but every scene with hector was just whimsy, whimsy of the writers projecting as whimsy of the leading ladies. why did carmilla drag him around for one month and beat him senseless? just 'cause she's so wild and unstable! nevermind he'd been perfectly reasonable before!
is there a plan to starving hector and taking his modesty away? no? you're just being dicks? aha.
oh! do they want to subvert the torture porn by sitting a pretty reasonable diplomat in front of him? nope.
i was half convinced that hector was just playing lenore for half the season. he seemed too instantly agreeable to be genuine. maybe that's season 4 shit, maybe they wanted him to lose some more.
got no thoughts on sypher and trevor other than cool shit, i liked the jump in their relationship and they feel very in sync for the season. a portal to other game worlds has been done a thousand times and i hope it continues to be nothing more than a mc guffin.
in the end i would have prob been more surprised if the judge didn't kill kids and collect their shoes
#castlevania#castlevania season 3#spoilers#thoughts#for fucks sake guys#it's a build up season#and a solid one at that
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19th Century Literary Misfits Go Vampire Hunting Because Van Helsing Said So
(Yeah, I wrote more. I can’t help it! There’s so much potential in their individual stories for wacky crossovers! Anyway, I hope you enjoy, my fellow 19th century literature nerds! If you want to know what this is all about, here’s the first story and the companion piece to that.)
(Characters include Van Helsing from Dracula, Moreau from The Island of Doctor Moreau, Griffin from The Invisible Man, Frankenstein from Frankenstein, Gray from The Picture of Dorian Gray, Hyde from The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Moriarty from one of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment.)
(Note: When you see “<...>,” someone’s speaking Russian.)
(Warnings: Blood, violence, killing (not of a human), mentions of murdering innocents, nudity (Griffin gets naked but he’s, you know, invisible...))
A breeze swept through the night air, stirring the branches of nearby trees and causing old buildings to groan. Mist shrouded the city and dampened the ground, hanging on dew laden leaves. Every noise seemed mysterious and alien. A soft clicking joined the night sounds. It intensified as the cold winds brushed past an unseen shape, sending the coat it wore waving.
“C-Can we go b-back now?” The clicking stopped momentarily as a disgruntled voice arose. The arms of the coat wrapped themselves tightly about the invisible shape.
“Not yet, Griffin,” Van Helsing said, not taking his eyes from the open patch of ground in front of them where a lone man stood, “She’ll be here any moment.”
“Then c-can I go back?” The invisible man’s teeth chattered even harder.
“No, your invisibility may be of use to us.”
“For what? You s-said these things can smell blood!”
“You may still surprise her.”
“You only let me w-wear a coat! I’m freezing! And besides, w-we brought H-Hyde for all that fighting n-nonsense!”
Hyde lay concealed beside them. He looked up as they mentioned his name, “Is she here?” he asked excitedly.
“Not yet, but soon.” Van Helsing assured.
Hyde bounced up and down where he crouched, a devilish smile plastered to his face. When Van Helsing had enlisted his housemates’ aid in taking down one of the blood-sucking monsters he always went on about, Hyde had been the first to volunteer. Everyone had ended up going, though, under threat of eviction.
Moreau was the only one who’d also wanted to come; a being that could turn from human to bat was most certainly one he wished to study. The vivisectionist peeked with rapt attention out from behind the bushes they were concealed in.
Van Helsing had asked for a volunteer beforehand to lure the “vampire,” as he called it, in. Frankenstein had shrugged and offered himself as bait. For once, everyone was glad of the scientist’s morose attitude.
“What have I got to lose?” he’d said before trekking out into the open.
Now they all lay in wait. The vampire had been seen in this part of town over the past few days, so there was no reason to suspect it wouldn’t strike again tonight.
Moriarty sat further back from the rest, a blanket he’d brought keeping him from touching the filthy ground, “How much longer must we wait for an imaginary phantom?” he sighed, resting his hands primly on his knees.
Van Helsing turned to glare at him, “It is not imaginary. I have seen plenty of vampires in my time. We must deal with it before it has the chance to move on and turn some poor soul into one of its kind.”
“Let me get this straight,” Gray spoke up with a yawn, “some lady dies from, and I’m quoting you, ‘being drained of her blood by a bat each night,’ which means she must have become one of these vampires when she died, so we’ve got to reel her in, stake her heart, chop off her head, and stuff it with garlic?”
“Yes,” Van Helsing nodded, then froze, “Where is the garlic necklace I gave you?”
“I threw it into an alley somewhere back there,” Gray pointed vaguely back the way they came, “It smelled awful.”
“That garlic could very well have saved your life!” Van Helsing exclaimed angrily, “Now you have no protection!”
“We need no protection from phantasms, professor.” Moriarty scoffed.
Van Helsing glanced at him and sagged, “I see you got rid of your necklace as well!”
“I tossed it aside before Mr Gray did.”
The old man sighed in deep irritation and squinted into the shadows to the left of him, “<Rodion Romanovich, please tell me you kept your garlic.>”
Raskolnikov held the chain of vegetables up into the moonlight for Van Helsing to see. The old man sighed in relief.
“Dr Moreau? Did you dispose of your garlic?”
“No! I’m not an idiot like these two!” the vivisectionist shook his head, “I actually read up on vampires.”
So saying, he shook the garlic around his neck and returned to keeping watch.
Hyde looked at them all with surprise, “How come you guys didn’t eat yours?”
Everyone turned to stare at the crouched man, noting the cloves that had spilled on the ground around him and the empty twine still draped over his neck.
“You… ate yours?” Van Helsing said slowly with an eerie calmness belying his fury.
“Sure did!” Hyde affirmed, grinning.
The coat lying beside him jerked away suddenly, “Yeah, he did! I can smell it in his breath.”
“What’s the matter, air head?” Hyde asked, “Not a fan of garlic?”
He breathed out in Griffin’s direction and the scientist sputtered and crawled away, making Hyde giggle maniacally.
The invisible man gave an angry sigh and threw aside the garlic necklace around his neck, “Forget this! I’m going home!”
“You can’t! She might catch you!” Van Helsing protested.
“Anything’s better than this idiot!” Griffin said and stood to his full height.
Suddenly a pale woman was leaping from out of nowhere and tackling the unsuspecting scientist. Griffin fell to the ground with a cry of alarm and rolled out from the bushes.
“It’s the vampire!” Van Helsing had jumped to his feet the second he saw the creature descending and raised his stake of wood, “Attack!”
The vampire looked up as she saw there were others with Griffin. She dragged him back and lifted him by his coat. Confusion flashed across her face as she found no evidence of a neck.
This brief hesitation was all Hyde needed to spring on top of her, eliciting a surprised screech. Griffin shrugged out of his coat as her hold slackened and stumbled away, his trail marked by imprints in the damp grass.
Moreau and Raskolnikov followed Van Helsing’s lead while Gray and Moriarty hung back, utterly flabbergasted by the events unfolding before them. Then they were both diving for the remnants of garlic Hyde had left behind.
Frankenstein turned around as he heard the sounds of struggle behind him, to see Van Helsing, Hyde, and Moreau confronting a pallid woman of unearthly beauty who was snarling viciously. Raskolnikov dashed up, withdrawing his ax from a loop in his coat, once again holding it the wrong way. The vampire threw Hyde to the side just as Raskolnikov neared and pounced on the Russian, sending his ax tumbling into the short grass. Frankenstein snapped out of his daze and sprinted forward just as Van Helsing leveled his stake at the monster and Moreau lunged with another stake in hand.
Then the woman was changing, her limbs shrinking, ears growing, wings extending.
“She’s turning into a bat!” Van Helsing shouted as the vampire started to take flight, hissing at the garlic around Raskolnikov’s neck.
“Incredible!” Moreau cried, dropping his stake, eyes alight with joy as he watched the vampire ascend, “She’s marvelous!”
“Not now, Doctor!” Van Helsing yelled, though the situation was already well in hand.
Hyde hadn’t wasted a second and launched himself right off the ground. He grabbed the vampire by her wings and she shrieked in anger as they began to descend. The two landed with a crash back in the bushes. Moriarty and Gray scattered immediately with what little garlic they had collected.
The vampire rounded on Hyde and dove for his neck. Hyde opened his mouth and let out a long exhale right into her furry face. She choked and shrank away with a small scream, giving Van Helsing enough time to race over and stab the beast straight through its small chest. The screaming stopped instantly.
“<Quick, Rodion Romanovich!>” At the old man’s summons, Raskolnikov rolled to his feet, retrieved his ax, and brought it down on the bat’s neck, narrowly missing Hyde’s hand. Frankenstein proceeded to grab up the garlic still around the Russian’s neck and shove it into the severed head. Then they all sat back and stared.
Moreau pushed past them and knelt by the creature. He ran a finger along its limp wing.
He looked up after a few moments, “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen! To change from human to bat like that is… wow! I need to study the body!”
Van Helsing gestured tiredly, “Be my guest.”
Moreau gave a small, almost childish squeal and gathered up the vampire pieces.
“I agree with with the doc!” Hyde said. He had twigs stuck in his long hair and scratches across his face, though none of it detracted from his smile of triumph, “Let’s do that again!”
“Where’d everyone else go?” Frankenstein interrupted, glancing around.
“They all ran off, apparently.” Van Helsing replied.
“Not everyone.” The four gathered all looked about them, seeing no one.
The discarded coat lifted itself off the ground and slowly filled out as Griffin put it back on. “I’d yell at you for nearly getting me killed or vampire-ized but I’m freezing c-cold so can we go home now?”
“Yes, Griffin, we can go home.” Van Helsing said and struggled to stand up from the grass he was seated in. Raskolnikov bounced to his feet and offered a hand. Smiling, the professor accepted the help.
The six of them trudged back to their house. Only Moreau seemed to have a spring in his step, eager to return to his lab. Frankenstein glanced over the other scientist’s shoulder, clearly interested. He forcefully drew his gaze away, though; he felt tremendous guilt any time he had any sort of scientific curiosity and wouldn’t tell anyone why.
Van Helsing glanced at the ax in Raskolnikov’s grip, “<That ax of yours has been handy to us on more than one occasion, but I must ask, why do you have it?>”
Raskolnikov was suddenly very pale. His shoulders tensed and he lowered his gaze, then lifted it with new resolve and a wan smile, “<You never know when you might need it.>”
Van Helsing nodded, “<Right.>”
Raskolnikov gave a small, spasmodic laugh and hurried forward.
They met up with Moriarty and Gray back at the house. Both tried to appear calm and collected, though there was obvious fear in their eyes.
“You, er, disposed of it, then?” Moriarty asked, eyeing the dead bat spilling blood on Moreau’s hands.
“Yeah, now move!” Griffin shoved past the professor and threw himself beside the fireplace, flinging his damp coat away.
“Do you believe me now, gentlemen?” Van Helsing asked, just a touch smugly.
“Guess so…” Gray murmured.
Moriarty shifted uneasily, “In light of the new evidence, it would be foolish to say no.”
Moreau sprinted past them and up the stairs, slamming his bedroom door shut. Frankenstein watched wistfully after him and walked slowly to his own quarters. Moriarty and Gray made hasty excuses and retired. Raskolnikov seemed to have suddenly become ill and moved jerkily to his room, bidding a faint “<Good night>” as he left.
Hyde brushed off his hat and moved back toward the door, “Well, I’m off! The night is young and there’s a whole world of mischief to explore!”
“Please don’t kill anyone!” Van Helsing implored, “It’s getting harder to calm the mobs!”
“Don’t you worry your big head, professor! I won’t kill anyone-”
“Thank-”
“-important.”
“What?”
“Maybe some homeless vagabond or lowly shop owner. Or perhaps a baby! Just kidding! I’m not that much of a monster. Or am I? I’ll see when I get there!”
He threw open the door and started hopping away before Van Helsing could protest, “See ya tomorrow maybe!”
Van Helsing heaved a deep sigh, “Please be Jekyll tomorrow…”
“He’s usually Jekyll in the daytime so I wouldn’t worry.”
Van Helsing jumped and spun toward the fireplace, “Oh, Griffin! I didn’t…” he trailed off.
There was a short pause before Griffin spoke again, in a quiet, intense voice.
“Didn’t what?”
Van Helsing glanced sheepishly at the floor.
“Say it.” Griffin prompted.
Van Helsing looked up to where he figured the voice had come from, “... see you.”
“That’s what I thought.” There was a shuffling as Griffin got to his feet, “Good night.”
Van Helsing winced, berating himself for his slip up. The stairs creaked as Griffin went up them, leaving the professor alone. Or maybe not; Griffin was known to pretend to go upstairs only to remain on the first floor to spy on everyone else.
With that thought in mind, Van Helsing shivered and retreated to the study for some reading before bed, closing the door behind him.
#Dracula#The Island of Doctor Moreau#The Invisible Man#Frankenstein#The Picture of Dorian Gray#Sherlock Holmes#Crime and Punishment#The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde#Abraham Van Helsing#Dr. Moreau#Griffin#Dorian Gray#James Moriarty#Raskolnikov#Mr. Hyde#Writing Entity#TW Blood#TW Violence#TW Death#TW Murder
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Okay, so Bloodbound is over. Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t a big fan of the ending, but to be fair it wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be. I have an alternative ending I wrote to it.
It’s dark, but no darker than the ending you got if you chose to absorb Rheya’s goddess abilities. I hope people enjoy this alternative telling. Please give me feedback if you like it or if you don’t like it. It’s just a different perspective for the story, I guess.
***
Life force drained from Rheya, her blood pouring out of her body and floating into the air like DNA helix. I stared at it, the power inside me almost intoxicating, as the life force of The First was absorbed into my veins.
“Wow,” was all I could say, sensing every heartbeat in the huge room. Adrien, Kamilah, and Lily were staring at me in horror - I could tell without even having to turn - and the cattle… the humans in the auditorium were coming out of the trance Rheya had put them under. The screaming started immediately.
“Bobbi!” Lily’s voice was suddenly all I could hear. Her hand was on my wrist, “You’re scaring me.”
“Do you know what I can do, now, Lily?” I asked, pouring sardonic contempt into my words. I could sense everything Rheya had been planning, all the good sense her aspirations to godhood represented. I felt fangs digging into my lips as I grinned.
“No, Bobbi,” Lily sounded terrified, but more upset. Saddened by what the woman she loved appeared to be turning into, “I don’t know what you can do now, and it scares me. But I know you’re still in there. The girl who cries when dogs die in movies, the girl who always tries to save everyone- urk.”
She stopped talking as my hand gripped her throat and I lifted her as though she were made of paper.
“It’s sweet that you think you know me,” I purred, pouring as much as I could into sounding seductive, knowing I was sounding like my great-et-cetera-grandmother who I’d just killed, “But you proved you didn’t two months ago, when he killed me.”
I hurled Lily across the stage, where she collided with Gaius. Both vampires crumbled to the floor in pain. Kamilah attempted to step towards me, but Rheya’s memories were in my mind now. I stopped her and Adrien with a simple thought.
“Bobbi,” Kamilah’s voice sounded hard and brittle. She’d always known what to say when I was alive, but had struggled to get through to me after I was resurrected. She didn’t know why. She was jealous of Lily for having my love, but had decided to back away gracefully, “You sound like Rheya now. You don’t want to do this…”
“Rheya was a fool,” I snarled, “She wanted a world where humans and vampires wouldn’t be a threat to each other anymore? She overlooked the obvious. I can’t do it yet…”
I turned to the auditorium. None of the humans or vampires had been able to escape, the doors would not open for them.
“I need more power…”
I heard gasps of shock, horror, disgust… Lily, Gaius, Kamilah, and Adrien had worked out what I meant at the same time. I didn’t blame them. What I had to do now sickened me. But there was no choice. I could save the world.
“I wonder if Machiavelli was a vampire,” I mused aloud, deliberately putting a childish, sing-song cadence into my voice, “The ends really do justify the means.”
I forced myself to keep my eyes open. I needed to know every death I caused. I could not absolve myself of this guilt, even if my actions were necessary. Every human in the room screamed as the blood was drawn from them, merging and vaporising into some ethereal energy which merged with my undead body, elevating my power even closer to godhood. I reached out with the psychic powers granted by my Bloodkeeper heritage.
“Not enough, yet,” I said. In an instant, I realised what needed to be done. I released the vampires in the hall from my power - the four who had accompanied me surged forwards. Lily plunged a stake into my heart. I just smiled, reached out, and booped her on the nose as the stake evaporated and I flew through the roof without blinking.
Flying was incredible. I’d reluctantly enjoyed the sensations my vampire body had given me when I’d been able to leap from building to building in single jumps, but this made that look… pedestrian.
I soared high into the air, above the peaks of New York’s skyscrapers and looked down at the city below me. The most densely populated area in the United States - more than eight million people had lived here before Gaius’ ill-thought-out war. The population hadn’t all returned, but there were still millions of humans down there.
Eyes wide open, I began to feed. For the first time since I’d become a vampire I truly enjoyed the sensation, instead of my body just lusting for more. Men, women, children. Evil as it was, I couldn’t spare anyone. The screaming reached my hyper-sensitive hearing even up here. Then it fell silent. The only heartbeats coming from the whole of New York City were from baffled vampires, reeling from the loss of their goddess and now the sudden emptiness of their home.
I reached out with my mind. It had worked. I was now psychically aware of every living being on Earth - Vampire, human, other supernatural beings - even Ferals were now in my mind, thanks to my great-umpteenth-grandfather. I clenched my fists and allowed a burst of power to soar west.
A woman in Los Angeles ran down an alleyway. Her taser hadn’t worked, the man following her had just laughed and then his teeth had grown. She was sure he was toying with her.
“You can’t run any more,” he growled, eyes glowing red. The woman, out of options, plunged the spikes of her taser into his chest again and pulled the trigger. At first, the monster seemed to shrug it off. Then his eyes went wide, fading from the red to a much more ordinary blue. His teeth retracted. He convulsed as the electricity pumped into his human body.
On an island, lost in the south Pacific, feral vampires in every form of twisted mutation, ran around in panic. One-by-one, in an east-to-west wave, they exploded into ash.
A malformed tree in the centre of the island spontaneously ignited and inside the spirit of Demetrius was finally freed. He smiled sadly, but accepted the end of his days.
“Well done, grand-daughter,” he said, as he dissolved into the aether.
The four survivors of Japan’s vampire council were gathered around in their cyberpunk nightclub, watching whatever news was coming out of New York in horror. Kano, the young, gifted psychic was there, unusually. He screamed and dropped to his knees.
“I can’t believe she’s done that,” was all he whimpered to himself, as his heartbeat slowly accelerated back to normal human levels.
Three of the four felt their bodies warming, returning to the humanity they’d lost so many years ago. They didn’t notice much, though, because the screams coming from The Evolved drowned out every thought. Her once-again human body was rejecting the mechanical augmentation she’d put herself through. There was no chance to save her now.
In Outer Mongolia, a vampire was running as fast as he could. Dusk was coming and he’d had to abandon his hiding place early.. Suddenly he felt dizzy, tripping and falling. He screamed in terror as the light of the sun shone down on his body but, to his surprise, it just felt warm.
He stood up, blinking in the unaccustomed light. He tried to flex his muscles but no longer had the unlimited strength he was used to. In a moment, he realised. He wasn’t a vampire. The sunlight wouldn’t kill him anymore. Now he just had to get back to civilisation…
Three of Dracula’s brides, imprisoned in the dungeons of his castle, dropped to their knees. The irresistible compulsion to seek out the blood of the living had passed from them. They clutched each other, weeping tears of mixed regret, relief, and horror, as they finally understood their lives were human again.
Across Berlin, Paris, and London, dozens of vampires who had been trying to work out how to live in a world without The Order suddenly felt their supernatural powers fading. A world without The Order had suddenly become a world without vampires.
In the opera house below the blazing goddess, Kamilah, Lily, and Adrien held each other closely, gazing up in horror at the shape of what had once been their friend. Gaius screamed in pain - when they turned to look, the mortal wounds that Rheya had inflicted on him started bleeding again.
Lily realised first.
“I can’t smell his blood,” she said, waving a hand in front of her face, “Why can’t I smell his blood?”
All three of them tried to draw on their senses. The terrific truth dawned on them with awe.
“She didn’t,” Adrien said, quietly, realising that his teeth were now immobile, “Surely, she couldn’t…”
Simultaneously around the world every former vampire heard a psychic scream, the last utterance of the vampire goddess. Bobbi. The last Bloodkeeper.
“I am become Death. The creator of worlds…”
At Rheya’s mansion outside the city, the last example of the tree of blood caught fire, burning into ash. The sap flared like burning oil, evaporating and removing any chance of a vampiric bloodline being reborn.
I gasped as the power withdrew from me. I had felt every moment. Every vampire who had died because they weren’t safe when they lost their abilities, their pain was my pain. Every sensation of rage at becoming human again, I knew. Every feeling of relief, mostly from older vampires who had learned the price of immortality, was a mild balm.
Gravity reasserted its authority over me. It would have been interesting to say that I hadn’t thought of this part. But it would also have been a lie. The small part of the dead goddess that had still been me knew I’d be returning to my human life more than two thousand feet above the ground.
I had accepted it. Even without the mind-perverting influence of the power I had absorbed, I felt I had done the right thing, but that didn’t change the fact that I had just become the most prolific mass-murderer in history.
I hugged myself closely and closed my eyes. I sacrificed an entire city, to save a world. I had made a world where humans and vampires would never threaten each other again. I assumed I would never know if it had been worth the appalling cost.
The sun was rising over New York. Kamilah, Adrien, and Lily blinked owlishly as they stepped out into the eerily silent streets. Drawn by some sense they didn’t understand, all three stumbled through the daylight towards Fifth Avenue.
Lily began to sob uncontrollably as they saw the crater. Just in front of the Empire State Building lay a crumpled heap that no-one would have been able to identify, if they hadn’t instinctively known who it was.
“Why did she do that?” Adrien asked, aghast, “She could have landed before relinquishing the power.”
The thought on all their minds went unspoken - why had she killed so many and then cured the vampires?
“She hated being a vampire,” the voice was Serafine’s, but it sounded hazy, “When she knocked me out, our minds met for a moment…”
Kamilah caught Lily clumsily - she had thrown herself forwards with hatred in her eyes, hands extended to punch the psychic woman who had just arrived on the scene.
“Why would you lie about that, now?” Lily screamed, struggling against Kailah’s grip. Both women were unused to the weakness in their muscles without vampiric blood, “She didn’t hate it, she would have said!”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Lily,” Serafine replied, calmly, although tears were running down her face, “The past three months, she’s loathed herself. Every second of life as a vampire. Every drop of blood she had to drink. Every tale from a vampire elder about how they regretted their elongated lives…”
At that last line, Serafine made eye-contact with Kamilah who trembled. Sadness was writ large on every face.
“She’s been harbouring resentment since the moment she woke in that coffin,” Serafine continued, slowly walking up to the pulverised mass in the street. Her breath caught as she saw the extent of the damage, then she swept off her scarf and covered Bobbi’s remains as best she could, “Her hatred of becoming one of us twisted and perverted Rheya’s goal. She wanted to make a world where humans and vampires wouldn’t threaten each other any more. I guess she managed…”
“Has she killed all the humans?” Adrien asked, his voice croaking, “I can’t hear anything in the city…”
“There’s news coming from outside…” Lily said, robotically looking at her ‘phone, “I think it was just New York… but… she killed every man, woman, and child in the city…”
“Good god,” Adrien sat on the hood of an abandoned taxi, dropping his head into his hands, “What did we create?”
“Why didn’t she tell us she was unhappy?” Kamilah asked, stalking in paces out of habit, “Why didn’t she say that this was hurting her?”
“She… ah…” Serafine suddenly looked nervous and stepped away from Lily again, “She didn’t want to hurt Lily. Since Lily admitted she Turned Bobbi, Bobbi had been lying to her. I saw… painful amounts of sadness and hatred. She couldn’t forgive your Turning her, but she couldn’t admit that because the love she’d once felt meant she couldn’t hurt you either.”
Former vampires were coming out into the sunlight. There had been a few hundred left after Gaius and Rheya’s purges. Lulu had been following Serafine. Kamilah realised just in time and caught the little girl in an awkward hug before she could see the mess in the crater.
Adrien managed to rally some assistance to remove Bobbi. Kamilah reverted to type and began to wrangle the survivors into bands to find all the former vampires left in the city.
Lily and Serafine remained at the crater’s edge, not talking. Instinctively, people left them alone. It was almost midday before Lily finally spoke.
“So…” her voice was firm, despite the tears still flowing down her cheeks, “Bobbi told you all that in the moments she knocked you out?”
Serafine smiled enigmatically.
“Even though she didn’t know that she could absorb Rheya’s power before it happened?” Lily glared at Serafine, accusingly. Serafine chuckled sadly.
“I knew you’d work it out,” she said, running a hand through her hair, “Serafine was the only psychic nearby. She was the only one who could help me. Let her link minds with you? I need to say goodbye.”
Lily gasped as the world blurred into an ethereal mindscape. She looked around and her imagined breath caught when she realised that the projections of Serafine and herself had been joined by a projection of me. Still, she wouldn’t be Lily Spencer if she didn’t have a facetious comment.
“So, is this like Doctor Strange?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, “Astral projecting?”
“Just telepathy,” I said, smiling sadly. I turned to the projection of Serafine, who looked shell-shocked and a little angry, “I’m sorry Serafine. I will be gone soon. I needed to explain why I did it…”
“What did you do?” Lily asked, drawing back a little, “We’re trying to look, but there don’t seem to be any humans left…”
“I…” I closed my eyes. Admitting this to myself had been easier than admitting it to the woman I’d once loved, “The whole city… I needed the power to make sure there was never a chance of vampires coming back… I know I’ve become a monster. Everything we were fighting against. But I wanted to make sure you could all have true lives, lives you deserve.”
“Why did you get to make that decision for me?” Lily snapped.
“The same reason you made the decision to Turn me and start all this in motion,” I said, and quickly continued before she could bring up her perfectly valid objection, “The same reason that I asked Adrien to Turn you last year. Because I love you.”
“Don’t tell me you committed genocide because you love me,” Lily recoiled, in horror, “You do realise that’s not a good thing, right?”
“I know. But, for a moment, I knew everything any vampire knew,” I closed my ethereal eyes, but could still sense every molecule of Lily’s astral projection, “All the older ones were unhappy. Eternal life is not a gift. The powers you all had were not repayment enough for the suffering you would eventually experience. Just ask Kamilah. She told me once, how only the memories she made while she was a human felt truly hers. I wanted to give that back to her. I didn’t want you to suffer the way she did. The way Takeshi did. The way even Gaius did.”
“I loved being a vampire,” Lily groused, but there was a tone to her voice, a sensation of understanding, “You killed children to take it away.”
“Lily, if there had been any other way, I would have done it,” I admitted, honestly. I realised that I was being one-hundred per cent truthful, “When I was a vampire I couldn’t love you anymore. Why do you think we never made love? I didn’t sleep with anyone else either. But, when the tree burned, and I became human again… I could feel the love. I wish we could have had more time. But I need to let Serafine have her body back.”
Finally, Lily stepped towards me. We reached out and held hands for the last time.
“You have the chance for a normal life now,” I said, feeling phantom tears stream down my face, “You, Kamilah, Serafine you could all have children if you wanted. Adrien can eventually rejoin his family.”
“Without condoning, or condemning, I understand,” Lily quoted to me, reaching up and brushing the tears away, although they were streaming down her face now, “I will miss you, Bobbi. I love you, even now…”
“Please, promise me…” I choked on the words, knowing this would be the last time I ever spoke to Lily in this life, “Take my ashes and spread them in Greece. Go to those beautiful ruins, see them in daylight. I wanted nothing more than to go back there with you one day.”
“I promise,” she said. I felt a lightness in my heart, although it would never efface the guilt I deservedly felt.
“I love you, Lily.” I said, leaning forwards to kiss her. Then my soul dissipated as I truly died.
#bloodbound3#bloodbound#choices#pixelberry#choices stories you play#vampire#finale#dark ending#world changing#bhagavad-gita
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Mission Log: Mortal Sins
Objective: Investigate Halt Orochi operation “the Breach”. Halt Vampire Crusade. Recover subject “Emma Stone” - still missing
Location: Carpathian Mountains, Romania - Points of Interest: Harbaburesti (village), Iazmăciune (village, cursed), Roman Baths, Network of Soviet-era bunkers (Red Hand)
Investigation Summary (1 of 3):
Week 1: Arrival at Harbabureşti (July 9 - July 15)
I arrived outside the village of Harbureşti to find it under attack by local ghouls. With the assistance of Carmen Preda, my assigned contact with the Council of Venice, we were able to break the siege and reach the still-inhabited parts of the village. Between Preda and the locals I was brought up to speed on the current situation:
A few months before my arrival, vampires began gathering in large numbers in the Carpathian mountains. In the weeks prior, they became hostile to the point that siege engines were eventually observed just out of view of the village. In addition, a new and virulent infection had taken to spreading through the human and nonhuman populations alike.
I was informed of a story that an Owl, Eagle, and Dragon had fought against a similar attack on the land centuries ago, and were believed to still be relevant to the recent events.
Much of the first week was spent establishing my presence in the village and pushing back against the encroaching threats. It was also during this time that I came across my first references to the Red Hand, an occult research branch of the Soviet military, and their work on developing vampire super soldiers.
Week 2: Ravens and Owls (July 16 - July 22)
Work within the village continued for the first half of the week, this time helping to restore the natural defenses created by Cernunnos (Cern, the Horned God, Mr. Stag Head), the resident deity of the surrounding forest.
I doing so, I also became involved in investigating the murder of a villager and ended up uncovering the murder of three other people as well. When the culprit realized that I had closed in on him, he attempted to kill me as well and lost his life in the confrontation. The killer, Aron Sasu, left behind a journal detailing his spiralling mental health along with repeated mentions of voices from the darkness and ravens closing in on him.
I was attacked by a revenant shortly after locating the body of his last victim.
After the last victim was laid to rest, I was approached by a small owl and ended up following it on a whim. On arriving at her home, she revealed herself to be Cucuvea, an ancient immortal and the same owl from the story I had heard in the village. She entrusted me with a portion of an artifact left to her by Vlad III Dracula to be used against his wife, the vampire queen Mara, who was responsible for the Vampire Crusade.
Cucuvea informed me of the existence of the Drăculești, urging me to meet with them to learn more about how to defeat Mara, and entrusted me with half of a silver egg she’d received from Dracula, believing it to be an important part of his plan.
I spent the rest of the week repaying Cucuvea by helping to take out some of her many enemies.
Week 3: The Girls Who Cried Wolf (July 23 - July 29)
I continued working with Cucuvea for the first part of the third week. It was during this time that she shared some of her personal history with Lilith and her immortal followers in the region known as the Deathless.
According to Cucuvea and further confirmed by independent scans, the shockwaves from the Tokyo Incident disrupted the binding magic containing the Deathless to specific sites, allowing them to spread and regain their power. With Cucuvea’s help, we were able to restore the binding at a nearby site.
While there, I came across evidence of someone else having been at the site recently: a wallet with an ID and a camera containing pictures of an at the time-missing artifact. Using the ID from the wallet, I tracked down the owner’s last known location and from there located two of his travelling companions: his sister Céline and girlfriend Aurélie. The owner, Laurent Giroux, was discovered to have gone missing after the cabin they were in was attacked.
It was determined that Laurent was affiliated with a member of the Morninglight, Adrian Zorlescu, who had ordered him to recover the artifact from the Deathless’ church site shortly before the vampire uprising. The artifact in question turned out to be a Filth source that had already compromised Laurent, a mercenary team also dispatched by Zorlescu to claim the artifact, and the nearby werewolf pack that had attacked them. All those infected were destroyed, as was the artifact when it was discovered to be too dangerous to contain.
Following this, I returned to Céline and Aurélie to aid in defending the windmill they had found shelter in. Investigation of the windmill’s origins and construction revealed it to have been built over a potent anima well with the express intentions of being used as a shelter in the event of an emergency. Time and neglect had worn down its defenses, but they were able to be repaired and the windmill was established as a secure outpost for the duration of the crisis.
Week 4: Triage (July 30 - August 5)
I returned to Harbabureşti early in the week at the request of the villagers, as well as to gather supplies and volunteers to maintain the windmill outpost. Much of my time was spent assisting the shorthanded medics with an influx of injured survivors from a neighboring community. During my work, I came across references to that of Dr. Varias, a Red Hand scientist and father of the village’s current doctor, and pursued them to uncover some of his research.
Week 5: Experiments Past and Present (August 6 - August 12)
When I informed the younger Dr. Varias of my discovery of his father’s materials, he confessed that he had been digging on his own in one of the Red Hand bunkers prior to the crusade and been forced to abandon what he’d found. I convinced him to give me the location of the bunker and entered it myself.
The bunker contained a number of the experimental subjects used by the Red Hand, most of them starved to the point of nonfunction. I single successful model was found in the depths of the facility and was destroyed. All recovered data was forwarded to the Labyrinth.
On my exiting the bunker, I encountered John Smith, self-titled Vampire Hunter. After some negotiation, it was decided I would test out an experimental poison he was developing on the vampires occupying the facility the bunker had been a part of. The poison was a resounding success when introduced to the vampires’ blood stores with over 40 vampires dying within half an hour of their last meal.
Week 6: From the Valley to the Stars (August 13 - August 19)
While clearing out the vampire camp, I came across evidence that they were running counter-surveillance on a young woman camped not far from the facility. Through her I was introduced to the Drăculești, descendants and followers of Dracula and dedicated monster hunters who had returned to the area to fight a final battle with Mara.
With Zaha’s assistance, I was able to devastate another of the vampire’s siege camp early in the week and we began work on a ritual to ward the farmlands surrounding Harbabureşti from the most dangerous of their attackers.
On August 16, I tracked the source of a strange radio transmission I’d picked up on a few days earlier to an observatory off of one of the Red Hand facilities. Despite repeating the same message on loop, the speaker was determined to be broadcasting live from somewhere inside the facility and was possibly in need of rescue. I accessed the bunker through an opening broken through one of the outer walls by vampires.
Exploration of Facility-9 revealed it to have been host to a cosmonaut training program that converted anima research, and from there to a study of what the Red Hand dubbed ‘anti-anima’ (now dubbed the Filth). Prolonged exposure to high levels of both forms of anima eventually lead to the deaths of most of the researchers and subjects, though the facility’s AI and many of its defenses remained active.
On deactivating the facility AI, I was engaged by the program’s sole surviving subject, identified as Halina Ilyushin - see attached file for further notes. Ilyushin was determined to be too dangerous to be negotiated with or restrained, and was killed in the conflict. The facility has since been cleaned out by Illuminati agents.
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Yours is not to wonder why, yours is to do or die! || GW
☾♔; March 21, 2018 ☾♔; sotd: idk ☾♔; comedian otd: JOHN FU.CKING OLIVER* ☾♔; GW NPC Audition II ☾♔; {G} https://goo.gl/XSTtMc ☾♔; mod(s): @themadmonarchist @maybones et moi
*oh yeah, he's gonna be comedian of the day all fu.cking week long. As of this moment, his book (Last Week Tonight with John Oliver Presents A Day in the Life of Marlon Bundo) is number ONE on Amazon's bestseller's list, outselling not just the Pence's Marlon Bundo book, but James Comey's upcoming tell-all or whatever book about the crazy sh.it at the Trump white house and his firing, and the audiobook version of the Last Week Tonight book is number FOUR, the kindle edition is number FIVE, and all three are ahead on the list than the Pence's book (which is number 7). Guys, I don't have much faith in humanity, we as a species suck (case in point, Trump won the US presidency and so many other problems), but sometimes, like this moment, I love us!
Title: said by Blair Waldorf (my role model in life tbh)
Me: *petty af* Also Me: *passive aggressive af* Thus Me: *manifests pettiness in my oc's*
Preamble Ramble: FINALLY! I've finished one of my auditions! Next up, hopefully Svea, but probs Nika, I'm on a Russia kick, my Swedes will have to wait.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ஜ۩۞۩ஜ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀Vladimir Vladimirovich Sokolov, (17)
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Изучаю тебя нежно-нежно ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Убиваю тебя ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Назови меня эгоистом! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀-⠀Эгоист by Дима Билан ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(Dima Bilan, aka my one true love) ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀https://goo.gl/VkQMN3
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ஜ۩۞۩ஜ
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ THE BASICS
Nickname: Volodya, Vova (but only people with special permission can call him either, call him "Vlad" and he'll end you) Gender: cis-male Date of Birth: May 7 Place of Birth: Moscow, Russia Nationality: Russian-British Ethnicity: eastern Slavic (he's also of anglo-saxon and Karachay descent) Accent: Russian Blood Status: muggle-born
Profession: Student
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
Face Claim: Jon Kortajarena
Hair: dark brown, positively luscious and better than yours could ever hope to be.
Eyes: green
Height: 1.88m
Weight: idk
Body: tol, fit, and ridiculously handsome.
Any Scars/ Marks?: - a long horizontal scar near his right 4th rib. Looks to be from a knife wound or some other blade type weapon, but refuses to explain where it came from (was he stabbed? Sword fight? You don't know! I don't know. Mostly because my answer will be lame compared to the "cool" way he refuses to explain it)
Any Tattoos/ Piercings?: a crowned double-headed eagle on his left shoulder blade and an ouroboros, but as a dragon instead of a snake on the inside of his right arm, near the wrist, around half the length of his forearm (there's a picture of it in his moodboard).
Quirks/ Mannerisms: - uses terms of endearment sarcastically for everyone, such as "darling" or "dear" - identifies the nearest 6 exits every time he enters a room - makes weirdly, somewhat threat-like jokes like "don't move to England if you're a professional traitor, people tend be hanged, thrown out of windows or are poisoned" and "those who serve us with poison will eventually swallow it and poison themselves."
Style: expensive (of course). It's quite preppy, and classy, when not in uniform he prefers well-tailored suits, waistcoats, blazers, has a collection of designer watches. Kind of modern Victorian (well, my view of victorians is endless suits and prefect ettiquette, plus many moral values that contrast my liberal views, but their style was, eh meh. Like, their male style was pretty cool, but I'm not really into around 98% of their female style).
Additional Information: n/a
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ PERSONALITY:
Head cannon: Vova is a rather intimidating person, in the terrifying sort of way. He carries an air of malice and death everywhere he goes, when he does act "warm and fuzzy", it's always jarring and seen as completely out of character, and possibly the sign of an illness. He is generally seen as the restrained, the quiet kid in the back with a perpetual "plotting your murder" expression on his otherwise handsome face. However, he is also seen as a rather extravagant, and somewhat suspicious person, he always seems to have access to illegal things (in both wizarding and muggle worlds), and seen as impervious to consequence, as regardless of what he does (or is suspected to have done), never gets in trouble.
Personality (+ 5, - 5): Ruthless and shrewd, if you're not careful, he'll screw up your life. He's incredibly manipulative and self-centered, a true stereotypical Slytherin through and through (well, minus the pureblood thing. He's a muggleborn). Definitely overdramatic and decadent af. He is alluring, very much in the evil way, he's attractive, but he does nothing to hide how dark he (seemingly) is. Like, I guess you could say "bad boy attractive", but he's borderline murderous, and possibly a psychopath, so calling him a "bad boy" is not really all that accurate. He's a very proud and arrogant individual (especially about Russia), and quite malevolent, and vicious. He's patient and holds grudges for a long time, and never forgets a slight. He will legit back at you for something said years ago, he doesn't forget that stuff. He's both a great friend and not, he absolutely provides for his friends, buying them things, etc, but cross him in the slightest, he'll ruin you. And on that note, he also doesn't really have "friends", because if you're depending on him for his wealth, you're not really friends, and he's aware of that, he looks at such people more as "minions" than buddies. They're job is to agree with him and do as he commands, otherwise, what's their point. For people who hang out with him whom he doesn't support financially, it's more like tolerable existences, he's a difficult person to like anyway. However, he is capable of befriending people, usually under the guise of "I hate people, but you, you're cool", luring them into a false sense of security and making them feel special at the same time. However, having said that, he is not a pure psychopath, so he does have feelings. He genuinely cares about his family, animals in general, himself, and select few friends whom he does actually care about, but struggles with expressing that to them, since differentiating with people he pretends to befriend and actually considers friends is difficult since "I hate people, except you" is something he says to both types. It'd probably only come out in a life and death situation, since he'd put himself in harms way for people he genuinely gives a sh.it about, and wouldn't bother for the minions.
Any mental health issues: He's probably something between a sociopath and psychopath, like, he does have actual emotions, as limited as they are, so he's not a true socio/psychopath. The argument is made (and a theory that I personally prescribe to, as a shi.tty psychology/sociology student, so don't put any weight or authority behind my opinion) that a psychopath is simply a more extreme and refined sociopath, so under that logic, Vova is basically a less extreme sociopath. (also, also, I have a problem with socio/psychopaths, I make too many of them, and they turn out to be my favourites. This is really worrying guys.) Anyway, under DSM IV (or possibly DSM III, I forgot which one changed the classification), he'd have what was called "an AXIS II Personality disorder", they've gotten rid of that classification now, but it basically listed narcissism, anti-social, sociopathic, and psychopathic personality disorders.
Favorite Quotes/ Sayings that your character would use: - "the fact that you need that explained is just so fu.cking sad." (literally said to anyone who doesn't understand any concept, whether it's something as simple as 2+2=4 or complicated as "imaginary time" -- don't ask, it's one of Stephen Hawking's theories and I don't understand it, I know my son would make fun of me.) - "what a fool" - "don't be attempt to be a comedian fool, you'll only embarrass yourself." - "darling, you have no idea what's possible." - "want to see what true power really looks like?" - "urg, don't be such a pleb/plebeian." - "of course I love Beyoncé, I'm a human being who lives on this planet." - "when better to have truffles and tiramisu than at 3am in Milan on a Thursday?" - "that jacket looks fine." - "dear, when will you learn? I know everything." - "Mudblood? Is that supposed to hurt my feelings? I don't have any of those, so what else are you going to do?"
Additional Information: - never on time. He's always late. You will literally start crying before he shows up he takes so long. - Loves crushing people's dreams (basically his hobby) - has an uncanny ability to suck the joy out of anything (his ex has said "unfortunately, he is a vampire", but in a muggle jokey way and basically the dracula stereotypical view muggles have of dracula, as in dark and not fun, and not an actual vampire) - Chess (muggle and wizard -- a proper, "normal" person hobby) - Has a bit of a smoking habit - has an endless list of blackmail material on people (a lot of which is infuriatingly revealed by GW at various times), and also has a tendency of taping people doing various things which he uses as part of his blackmail library. Seems to have cameras' everywhere and claims to "know everything" about everyone.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ BIOGRAPHY
Relation to your OC: classmates, housemates (possibly more, formerly, I'm still developing him)
♣️ Family Background
Vova comes from a largely muggle family, however, he is not the first wizard born into their family in recent history, so it wasn't completely a left-field shock when he started displaying magic. The first wizard in their family in the last few centuries (approximately) was Vova's uncle; Ilya Dmitriyevich Shostokov, who attended Koldovstoretz. Vova was the second in recent history, and his younger sister made third. Whilst virtually unknown in the magical world (with the exception of Ilya Shostokov, who has a rather dark reputation in the wizarding world), the Sokolov's are very prominent in the muggle world, particularly in Russia. Vova's grandfather is an Oligarch, who in Russia are effectively businessmen who run the country, the only curtail on their power and influence being the Russian President, and even then, the Russian administration is extremely corrupt, in the last presidential election, the incumbent president was able to literally choose his opponents (not a joke, btw. Putin actually did that in the recent Russian election). Anyway, the Sokolov's have a monopoly over the media industry in Russia, most of which run state-friendly stories, and shut down anything that could potentially insult the presidency. Their family, specifically the current patriarch, is also often accused (mainly in rival papers, magazines, shows, etc) of not only being corrupt, but having involvement with the Zima Bratva. As whole, they maintain an unfavourable public image (as most oligarchs do in the eyes of the Russian public), but are close with the Kremlin, so they remain influential with the government.
Family Members: - Vladimir Yakovlevich Sokolov // Marc Lavoine // Father // 47 // Politician // alive - Catherine Elizabeth Sokolova née Olivier // Emilia Fox // Mother // 46 // Socialite/House-wife // alive - Yevgeniya "Zhenya" Vladimirovna Sokolova // Antonina Vasylchenko // younger sister // 16 // student at Hogwarts // alive - Yakov Lʲvovich Sokolov // Charles Dance // paternal grandfather // 71 // Oligarch/suspected Bratva leader // alive - Ilya Dmitriyevich Shostokov // Nikolaj Coster-Waldau // paternal uncle, once(ish) removed // 43 // dark wizard // alive
♣️ Family Affiliation: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Slytherin House, Russian Government (the muggle one, as a fam they support United Russia, because Vlad Sr is a member. Personally? Who knows whom Vova supports), other Kremlin-close Russian Oligarchs
♣️ Socio-economic status: rich as fu.ck. The exact number and position is actually quite shadowy though. They are amongst the wealthiest muggle families in Russia (Vova's grandfather is an Oligarch), but the retainment (definitely not a word) of their wealth also depends on how friendly they remain with the Kremlin, additionally, their family (mainly Vova's gramps) has been accused of having Bratva ties, and money from that alleged connection is definitely not counted on tax forms.
Quick facts: + Born May 7 in a Moscow Hospital, first son of Vladimir Sokolov, an emerging Russian politician (who eventually made it into the Federation Council). After his sister was born just about a year later, their mother, British-born Catherine Sokolova née Olivier, obtained dual British citizenship for them via "lex sanguinis" (which is a british citizenship law, giving to people who are born abroad is one of their parents is a British citizen by birth. I could've left this out, but I googled this sh.it and I like rambling).
+ Whilst close with his family, Vova was a solitary child, he liked to read and spend time on his own in a corner, or stay at their various Dacha's without anyone else. He never seemed to require any oversight as he never did anything bad (or least, he was never caught). However, he is closest to his grandfather, and would enjoy sitting in on board meetings, just silently observing from a corner. Some of his grandfather's employees (or Minions as Lev calls them, where Vova also got the habit from) found his silent starring creepy and unsettling.
+ Being a muggleborn, he is well-versed with the muggle world and has interacted with them from birth, his parents and grandfather all being muggles, and attended muggle private schools as a child before his letters came. Whilst they employ muggle servants (because they're muggles), his uncle (the first wizard he ever met) employs a house-elf (yes, he pays the house-elf, they might be part of an oppressive government and basically an organized crime family, but they don't do slaves).
+ Vova first discovered magically abilities on his own, when on a trip in Australia with his mother, he discovered a large snake in their hotel room one morning whilst she was still sleeping, being around 3 and not fully comprehending the danger, he just walked up to it and started talking with it. It later slythered (see what I did there) away of it's own accord when Catherine walked in and freaked out about a massive crazy Australian snake (because you guys have scary animals) coiled near her son. As he aged, he noticed he could do other things, such as making things float or disappear.
+ Vova first publically displayed magically abilities (as well as control over them) aged 7, when a board member of one his grandfather's companies was throwing a hissy fit about a child sitting in, and his tie suddenly tightened and started choking him. The man survived, at that instance, died suspiciously at a later date. Anyway, he survived that instance when Lev ordered the meeting to be over and broke Vova's angry glare at the dude. The two immediately then went home, and Lev called Ilya to arrive in "his" way (apparition) and had Ilya introduce Vova to magic and talk about whatever, Lev didn't know the specifics.
+ When his sister discovered powers (shattering all the windows in their Dacha in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky via screaming, she was told she couldn't keep a Siberian Tiger as a pet), he gave her the "magic talk", and they caused quite a bit of trouble for annoying students at their school, as well as a nearby "plebeian" school (who disliked the children of oligarchs, for very obvious reasons, Oligarchs rule Russia, and they kind of suck). Anyway, they would mess with their things, frame them for crimes that children their age literally could not commit. What 8 year old has cocaine their locker and why does another 8 year old know what it is?
+ He received a letter from both Koldovstoretz and Hogwarts aged 11 (because he's a dual-y), chose Hogwarts since no one in his family had ever gone there before (like, there's only one person in recent history whose ever been magical anyway, but still), also might have had something to do with the Zima bratva's recent (at that time) expansion into the British criminal landscape, who knows?
+ Although he denies any connection, Vova runs effectively a youth branch of his uncle's business, which itself is a branch of the Zima Bratva. Ilya is basically a magical fixer for the Zima Bratva, who, for a very hefty price, uses dark magic to assist/fix the problems of the muggles and magical alike. Vova does basically exactly the same, but for the students at Hogwarts, and for a different price. Instead of money, he collects information and favours to be repaid immediately at any time he demands. He also maintains an iron fisted rule over his "organization", whether they be customers or minions, snitches don't get stitches, snitches get buried 50 feet beneath the ground.
Additional Information: - he is a parselmouth, a trait inherited from a distant magical ancestor (like from back in the Kevian Rus days of his familial ancestry), his sister also inherited the trait, though their uncle did not.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ HOGWARTS INFORMATION
Is your character a student of Hogwarts?: yeppers If so, which house and year: Slytherin, Seventh Year If not, which house did they belong to while they were at Hogwarts?: n/a
Best Class(s) at Hogwarts: defense against the dark arts
Worst Class(s) at Hogwarts: none
Any Pets?: an ooc, cute af owl (tawny, spotted, he doesn't know. Okay, I don't know, but as a consequence, neither does Vova), it's smol and got big round eyes, it's name is Harold and yes, it is his best friend, and yes, he did get it at diagon alley at his sister's instance, and accidentally got attached to it. He does like animals though, the Solokov Dacha in the outskirts of Yakutsk has effectively become a cross between an animal hospital and habitat for, welp, animals. Vova spends most of his holidays there (often alone, not including servants, as it's cold AF. Yakutsk is the second coldest major city in the world, after Norilsk, but it's winter's are colder than Norilsk's), he's ability to visit has increased since he learned how to apparate. He's also really interested, invested, and active in wildlife conservation, and often goes tagging Siberian tigers and polar bears etc with various animal protection organizations in Russia (the muggle ones).
Reputation at Hogwarts: Volodya has a largely dark reputation, he's more infamous than famous. He's known for messing with people, and not in a fun way, and he's generally seen as some kind of criminal. His uncle is well known is the magical world as a "Jack of all trades of villainy", and Vova definitely fits that villain mold too. He probably wouldn't be too close to the elites, they're sort of glittering in their ivory towers, and his tower is dark and gloomy, and lacks joy because he finds it annoying. Although, he and E probs might've gotten along in her pureblood bully gang days, or actually would've been antagonistic, he's basically as evil as them, but he's a mudblood, so meh, maybe rival bullies? Idk, I'll leave that for plotting. Anyway, he's not got a "bad boy" rep so much as a "omg, he's literally the worst person alive, why are you trying to be his friend, does he have a incriminating evidence on you?" type rep.
Additional Information: n/a
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ INDIVIDUAL MAGIC
Wand: yew Wand Core: veela hair (acquired by his uncle through unknown means, there was a report of a veela going missing right around the time Uncle Ilya got that hair so...) Wand Length: 13½" Wand Flexibility: inflexible
Patronus: Eurasian brown bear
Boggart: appears as the corpses of his family, killed via poison/nerve agent. His fear being a government revolution and his family getting caught up in that or his family losing the Kremlin's favour. The result would be the same in both scenarios tbh.
Amortentia: citrus, gun powder, and mint
Affinity to any particular magic? - I dunno if you'd call it an affinity, but he is waaaay too into the unforgivable curses and it's waaaaaay too easy for him to perform them. - dark magic/dark arts (you guys know exactly why he has an affinity for it XP)
Additional Information: - whilst he loves magic, he also has a deep fascination with muggle weapons (particularly the ones developed by his country), and has been experimenting with magically evolving them, particularly poisons and nerve agents.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ USER INFORMATION
Username: @drownedinmoonlight Activity Level (Scale 1-10): 8
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⚜️ OPTIONAL Playlist: Moodboard: https://goo.gl/R7DVjp Social Media (instagram, facebook, snapchat, twitter, etc): Storyboard: https://goo.gl/h6DJfB Aesthetic Collection: Wardrobe/Style Collection: Plotting Set: Story:
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ஜ۩۞۩ஜ
When you have completed the audition, please tag the mods: @drownedinmoonlight @themadmonarchist and @maybones and use the hashtag #GWnpc
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TALK STARKQUILL TO ME I NEED
Their meeting was a little less meet-cute and a little more,,, meet-ugly sort of thing.
Mainly because they both read the situation very badly and ended up trying to kill one another. Completely accidentally, but.
Still.
And really, can you blame Tony? Their ship does crash-land in the middle of a crowded highway, and barely manages to avoid civilians. Then they pop out, and they’re armed to the teeth, looking pretty threatening and...well... alien.
People end up calling (what’s left of) the Avengers- which happens, at the time, to be Tony and Tony alone.
Except the Guardians crashed in Florida; when Tony got the call he was in New Orleans at a science convention, and the suit was still in New York.
But he went anyway. Suit or no suit, he had to try. He was the only line of defence now, after... everything.
So, armed with a sophisticated watch-gauntlet and a gun he always kept tucked in his jacket pocket, he takes the jet and leaves to try and stop them from potentially, y’know, annihilating the world or whatever.
Except things don’t really happen like that, in the end.
“Listen, what are the chances you’re gonna do as I say when I order you to drop your weapons and leave?” tony asks wearily, as he holds the gun at the biggest guy’s weirdly patterned face and the gauntlet at the woman holding the largest gun he’s ever seen in his life. He doesn’t even bat an eyelid toward the talking walking raccoon or... the tree...thing.
Just another day in the life, at this point.
Although it would be kinda embarrassing if he ends up getting murdered by the raccoon. What the damn hell would they put on his grave? Here lies Tony Stark- saved New York, but unable to protect himself from the dangers of the Mighty Raccoon?
As soon as he’d spoken, about 13 different weapons were pointed in his face. Which hardly made sense, considering there were five of them and they all only had two hands. But whatever.
“How’s about we ask you the same? Except more forcefully, considering we got all the guns,” the raccoon said.
Tony rolled his eyes. “Where the fuck would I go then, what with me being a human being who lives here? Just fling myself into the void of space? And yes, tempting as that might sound, I’ve been there done that. Not as appealing as I would have thought, to be honest.”
The five stared at him in confusion for a moment, before what looked to be the only actual human stepped forward, head cocked. His eyes were bright and beard scruffy- Tony thought it suited him.
Tony also thought he should probably focus on the task at hand, and his ever-growing chances of imminent death, rather than how pretty his opponent was.
“You’re just a human, huh?” Hot Scruffy Man asked.
Tony raised an eyebrow, and then pointed the gun at him when he took another step. “What gave it away? The fact that I have the same composition and structure as every other human on the planet? The fact I look just like you, who is also a human?”
“Half human,”
“What was the other half, pure asshole?”
“Actually... kinda, yeah.” The Hot Scruffy Man paused, and then shrugged. “Daddy issues.”
Tony had a brief moment to wonder what the fuck he was doing before an involuntary snort of laughter had escaped out of him. “Yeah- rode that train before, buddy- still doesn’t explain why you’re on the planet I protect, waving your guns around at innocent people and causing millions of dollars worth in property damage.”
The team in front of him paused, and then the man looked back at the green lady, who just shrugged and put down her gun. “We were told there was an imminent threat to your planet. We were in the neighbourhood, so we thought we’d come save you.”
Tony stared at them, contemplating. “Where are your sources from?”
“The fine NovaCorps,” Massive Bulked Alien Dude spoke up.
Tony squinted, running a hand across his forehead. “Am I… supposed to know what that means?”
“Fancy space police,” Raccoon told him.
“You seen any apocalyptic aliens round here lately?” Hot scruffy Man asked him again, slightly confused now.
Tony just sighed. “Nope. And if there were, I would handle them. You can go back…wherever you came from, guys, it’s fine, Earth is fine-“
“You? You’re gonna protect the Earth? With your fancy little handgun and hand-firey thing?” The Raccoon laughed, and Tony scowled.
Luckily, because he had been counting the seconds in his head since he’d called it, he knew he was about to do something really badass, and it wiped the scowl off his face, replacing it with a little smile as he stared at the stupid talking Raccoon.
“No,” he said, shrugging as he heard the familiar whirring sound of metal moving at hundreds of miles an hour up ahead of him.
The aliens looked up, one of them pointing their gun at the source of noise, like it would do anything. But in the space of a few seconds, it had already reached its intended target, slowing down just enough to not vaporise his body and wrapping around him, every piece fitting in a way that made Tony want to give himself a round of applause.
“I’m gonna protect Earth with this,” he said, raising his two repulsors and loading them right in the Raccoon’s little face.
There was complete silence for a second, before Hot Scruffy Man made a noise that should really, for the sake of Tony’s sanity, be kept in the bedroom. “That was literally the coolest and most attractive thing I have ever seen ever. In my life.”
Tony couldn’t help himself; he smirked and cocked his head Hot scruffy Man. “Sweetie, I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re gonna have to keep it in your pants until we can sort this out.”
Green Lady sighed, and walked forward to smack Hot Scruffy Man around the back of the head. “You know what we talked about, Peter- no flirting with potential targets. It’s in bad form.”
“This guy certainly hasn’t got a bad form,” Hot Scruffy Man- Peter- nodded over to Tony and smirked.
Green Lady sighed, and then turned to Tony. “Listen. You want to protect your planet. We want to protect your planet. How about rather than pointing our weapons at one another, we try and… you know, do what we set out to do?”
Instantly, the smile slide off Tony’s face, not that any of them could tell behind the faceplate. “I work alone. Sorry. You’re gonna have to l-“
And that was when the world sort of exploded around them.
Without even thinking about it, Tony shot forward and wrapped his arms around the two closest to him- the Green Lady and Peter- rolling them to the ground and hoping that the rest of his team, especially the more flammable ones, were okay. Green Lady yelled at the sudden-ness of his approach, but Peter just sighed. “Here we go,” he muttered into Tony’s shoulder.
Tony was inclined to agree, there.
Half-way through the battle, Peter AKA Starlord AKA Galaxy’s Number One Asshole asked him out.
Tony looked at him for a good four seconds before he got tackled to the ground by… (Dracula? Dracker? He was having to learn the names on the go, and his mind was currently on other, more explosion-based things) the Massive Bulked Alien Dude.
“THAT IS VERY UNPROFFESSIONAL, PETER!” He yelled, before looking down at Tony. “Are you well? I thought you may have been hit with a paralytic beam of some sort.”
Tony nodded, and then sat up. “No paralytic. Just your team-mate.”
Massive Bulked Alien Dude nodded wisely. “He does tend to have that affect on people.”
“What? Endangering their goddamn lives on the field?”
Massive Bulked Alien Dude paused, and then shrugged as he rolled off Tony. “I was going to say rendering people speechless with his idiocy, but that too.”
“Hey, that’s not fair, I’m actually clever, Tony, I promise! Boyfriend material, right here!” Peter yelled across the battlefield, looking over to them and grinning as he shot an alien in the back of the head without even looking.
“You’re a god damn alien!” tony yelled back exasperatedly, trying to keep the smile off his face as he jumped high into the air and then landed on an unfortunate opponent.
“Yeah- think of all the new tricks I must know, then,” Peter countered, winking as he dived behind a car and then threw what must have been a fancy bomb over the bonnet.
Tony’s mind briefly short-circuited at that (Holy mother of God) astute observation- but he quickly regrouped and fired a repulsor at an alien attempting to sneak up behind Rocket. “I’m gonna need a few examples before I agree to anything, sweetie,” he replied.
Peter laughed and opened his mouth, but then the Tree hit him over the head. “Ow!” he complained, looking betrayed.
“I have enough issues dealing with one distracted team-member whilst in the middle of a battle, I will not be dealing with two! Cut the flirting out!” Gamora yelled, as Tony watched her utterly destroy two different aliens at once.
“She thinks we should be ‘professionals’ and ‘focus on the mission’ when we’re in battle,” Peter said grumpily, wiping a cut across his face and then shrugging. “I respectfully disagree.”
Tony had to cut the conversation short again in order to swoop up and laser his way into the main hull of the ship that loomed barely even twenty meters over the battlefield, but he still had the team in the comm that FRIDAY had patched him into. “So what about Monday? You sticking around until then?” He asked.
Rocket swore at them down the line, but Peter just laughed. “For you, baby, of course I am.”
“Good. I’ve got a meeting with… let’s call him an ex. Be nice to have an excuse to blow him off.”
Peter whistled, “Oooh, want me to sweep you off your feet and declare battle with him for hurting you? I’m always up for it.”
“Much as I would like to see that, he’s kind of peak physical perfection. Plus I’d rather just make out with you,” Tony admitted.
“That’s fair. I want to make out with me too.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Yep- welcome to the Guardians- we’re all assholes here. You’ll fit right in,” Peter told him.
“I am GROOT!” Came a rumbling voice that Tony could hear even off the comms, and he looked down in time to watch the tree grab Peter around the wait and haul him, flinging him up in to the sky with a yell.
It was a perfect throw, to be fair to Groot. Peter’s momentum cut out just as he was level with Tony, who grabbed his shoulders and lifted his faceplate, just for a second, in time for Peter to plant one on his mouth with a grin and a raised eyebrow, before he began falling again, right into Groot’s waiting arms.
Through the comm, Gamora just sighed. “Idiots. All of you.”
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PAX Australia 2017 Day 3
There are no notes for Day 2 because I spent it socialising a little and sleeping a lot.
Queer Coded: A History of LGBTQIA+ Gaming
David Gaider Q&A
Brian Fairbanks Talks about Addressing Accessibility Through Game Design
Misc: I spent a chunk of the day in the diversity lounge which was fun. I met some great people at the Gender Diverse card game, and got to the semi finals of the Xena Nintendo 64 Fighting Game Tournament (there were only three rounds, but given how much I suck at fighting games this was still a happy surprise, and a sign of what a random button masher the game is)
The gender neutral toilets near the diversity lounge were very well done, unlike GCAP the original signs weren't visible and "with stalls/urinals" was in small letters like an afterthought.
I didn't break anything on Day 3 but did break a mug the next morning. Also the cinema in the Crown Casino is surprisingly inaccessible.
Despite the various mishaps I had a great time and will definitely come again next time we can afford it.
Queer Coded: A History of LGBTQIA+ Gaming
I missed the second half of this to see David Gaider, feeling very annoyed at the programmer.
Anny Sims @ChattyAnny on twitter (I was too slow to get the others!) Keely Thirkell Hayley Williams Soap Pejovic
Most queer characters are just queer coded, with plausible deniability. "It's up to you".Tendency for queer characters to be villains. Indie games tend to be more queer friendly than AAA games.
Lesbians: First known queer character in games: 1986 Moonmist had side-character who was a lesbian murderer.
Other notable lesbian characters:
KOTOR 2003, Juhani, first queer Star Wars character
Gone Home 2013
Dragon Age Inquisition Sera (I thought Sam Traynor from Mass Effect 3 came first?)
Tracer from Overwatch 2016
Trans characters:
1988 Birdo from Super Mario Brothers 2 "A male who believes he is female"
Lots of others but all terrible. Jokes and villains. Trans women seen as threat. Poison from Final Fight 1989, "so you can hit a woman".
Krem DAI 2014 trans man, You can't go "Ok, cool".
Hainly Adams MEA 2017 trans woman. Tells you her deadname, this was patched.
Horizon: Zero Dawn 2017 trans man
Dream Daddy 2017 trans man. One throw away line about wearing a binder, had to be clarified by writers. Non binary people and cosplayers wear binders too!
How do you make it clear they're trans without them implausibly outing themselves or just having it be word of god?
Gay men:
1993 fmv Dracula Unleashed has speaking role
Tended to be background characters, jokes and villains again. No m/m relationships shown onscreen.
Dreamfall: the Longest Journey 2006 (not made super clear until 2015)
Steve Cortez Mass Effect 3 2012
Dorian DAI 2014
Dorian knew exactly what his sexuality was. Coming of age narratives get boring.
Bi Characters (no picture because they're invisible):
1993 Ultima 7 part 2 bi character propositions character regardless of gender.
"Slutty bisexuals". A lot of characters are playersexual and it never comes up outside the relationship.
Zevran DAO 2009
Borderlands 2009
Fable 2004 let player be bi, Fable 2 2008 added bi PCs
Playersexual:
Only queer in the context that they will date players of both genders, but you don't see that unless you play as both.
Dragon Age 2 2011, Anders only mentions his ex-boyfriend if you play as a male PC
Fallout 4 2015. Did have background queer characters.
Stardew Valley 2016
Non Binary:
1995 Chrono Trigger villain
Often robots, aliens or other non human
Frisk Undertale 2015
Life is Strange 2015
Zer0 Borderlands 2 2012
Turing Read Only Memories
Some games let you have gender neutral pronouns.
David Gaider Q&A
1999 Working on Balder's Gate 2, didn't talk about his sexuality at work. Figured he would always be writing stories for straight people.
He was shocked to hear Jade Empire was having same sex romance. Got to be lead writer on DAO after that. "So I can put same sex romances in, right?". More economical to have bi romances, but he would have been happier having some gay characters.
Feeling iffy about playersexuality after DA2, he asked for 2 straight, 2 bi, 2 gay for DAI. "Minority content" is weighed via the percentage of those who play it and those who appreciate it. Eg 5% play dwarves but most see it as a positive thing to be able to do.
Most of his time was spent on the actual plot but Dorian was the most personal writing.
He was targeted by Gamergate but it doesn't compare to, for example, how much Jennifer Helper was targeted.
10 years on Dragon Age was enough, his head would explode if he had to write another story about templars and mages.
How did you get the job: His story is very specific. He was managing a hotel and a comic book artist in his spare time. A friend was a character artist at Bioware but Gaider wasn't really aware of the specifics. Bioware told their employees "If you know anyone who does game related writing let us know", the friend gave them Gaider's LARP rule book without asking. Got a call, gave the stories he wrote in highschool, got offered a job. He said no, it didn't pay enough, but then he got fired from the hotel. It felt like a sign.
Who do you think will take the romance torch from Bioware: he’s not sure they're giving it up? EA treats romance fans as a reliable audience who don't need to be advertised to, even though it's why a lot of people play in his experience (though obviously those are the kinds of fans he will tend to meet). There is an underserved audience.
Most proud of: Lots of stuff he's not proud of. Wishes he'd been more involved in community discussions early on. Proud that the team tackled issues as they started arising. Proud of the company for standing by them. Most proud of Dragon Age 2 despite the mixed response. They had very little time to create it. It’s like a very big first draft. They had a plan but didn't get to compare notes once things were written, so he had to trust the team would stick to plan as much as they could despite things being cut on the fly. Team said they were happy in a post-game survey, didn't feel he was too dictatorial.
What does your writing look like, a screenplay? A cutscene does. But it’s generally structured like a tree that expands and then contracts back to the core path before expanding again. Flow charts.
Favourite relationship in a game? Morden in Mass Effect. Cried more than in a movie. Tali was his space girlfriend. Of the ones he's worked on, Morrigan will always be closest. She represents Dragon Age to him. Joyous time working with Claudia Black, first celebrity he'd worked with. Flemeth was originally Arabic, but that actress couldn't do it so they got Kate Mulgrew. They stopped looking for an Arabic actress for Morrigan and looked for someone who matched Kate Mulgrew. Claudia Black's audition tape was her reading Smack That like a beat poet. Gaider was very nervous, he'd never spoken to any actor before. First rule he was told was don't compare them to another celebrity, so naturally he said "I had Helena Bonham Carter in mind when I wrote Morrigan". Claudia Black said "So you're saying I'm a cheap Helena Bonham Carter ;D". She would say "Does he want me to do it more like Helena?" during recording.
Has being so closely associated with diversity had downsides? He may be gay but he's still white and a dude. He feels like it's all he talks about conventions sometimes. Teams need to sit down and look at what they've made. Lot of things made individually without concern for the bigger picture eg only 15% speaking roles in DAI were female until they stopped and looked at it and fixed it.
"We didn't think about it" is no longer a defense. He wants to help with that, but we should be helping other marginalised voices get into the industry and amplifying their voices.
Wishes it could just be expected and we didn't have to discuss it.
He likes dating sim mechanics in the context of a larger story. But he does like the idea of romance not being as tertiary as it's been in Bioware games, romance as part of the adventure eg a romantic adventure. He's not really interested in social sims or day to day relationships. "My idea of a spicy relationship is to have my life threatened."
Why do you think most AAA companies try to avoid discussions of lgbt stuff, why is it taking so long? Because it's Pandora's Box. There is more being added casually. But if they do nothing they get lumped in with the rest of the industry. As soon as they do anything there are 2 sides: 1. why are you doing this, you're politicising your game. 2. Why aren't you doing more, whatever you did is wrong and not good enough.
Not that flawed attempts should be above criticism. But by mostly focusing criticism on the games that did anything rather than nothing, people have increased the feeling that it's Pandoras box. He understands that it feels like those developers might listen to criticism but the dynamic is sending the wrong lesson.
My question: How do you think inclusion of non binary player characters can work with including gay and lesbian love interests instead of just having playsexuality? “We've thought about it”. He defined playersexual for audience, like Shroedinger's sexuality. He doesn't like it when the only way to have something show up is to have the character talk about it. eg asexual: character would have to sit you down and explain what asexuality is. Is unsexy as a feature. Explaining nuances of sexuality is off putting. If there was more nuance across the industry that would mean no one game has to do everything. Any one game can have only so much within it.
(This doesn't actually answer my question. I discussed it with my husband afterwards and even he didn't understand what I was asking, so I may have garbled it in my nervousness)
Are some choices "canon"? One of the features of Mass Effect and Dragon Age was the continuity of choices. No "canon" but there is a default. A lot of people feel like they have to play the whole series to get the full experience, was off putting, and he found the Keep a nightmare as a writer.
They had editors keeping track of which choices were incompatible. And that was just the third game. "Can you imagine for a fourth game? Phew! Not my problem :D"
Have you thought about the morals of gamifying romance, saying what people want to hear to get sex? Dragon Age didn't work that way, sex was not at the end. Some characters in DAI had no sex scenes, sex is optional for Dorian's romance. It's a game, everything is gamified, you can't simulate actual relationships. For proper reactivity you’d have to mark every response and keep track of inconsistency, but that’s too much work. Same with polyamory: too many variables!
Maybe get away from the approval system? Pay more attention to overall choices in major quests etc instead of individual lines.
Bi characters in DAI were bi from the start. Not the first thing that comes up during character creation eg Dorian started out as "the good Tevinter". Helps avoid too many assumptions based on sexuality. But once characters started solidifying they would think about who worked for what sexualities. There's no set way to write someone "as" bi, but the writer can have them talk about relevant things in other scenes. Sera's writer is a straight dude, he didn't want to write About The Lesbian Experience, and got lesbians in the company to check out what he was writing.
Have relationships gotten more or less complicated? In Balder's gate 2 there was a single sequence of romance scenes which you could get kicked off. Dragon Age had approval. If it gets complicated but the player can't see it or understand how reactions relate to their previous actions it just seems random or predetermined. Unless they say "I am angry at you because of X", but noone says that.
Brian Fairbanks Talks about Addressing Accessibility Through Game Design
lostandhound1 on twitter
His notes.
He's not blind himself, and while he obviously cares a lot about accessibility had an unfortunate tendency to treat disabled people as a separate, if respected, "Other" to himself and the audience, even though I was right there in a bright red mobility scooter. He advocated person first language, "a person with blindness" etc, but not all disabled people like it and it shouldn't be presented as unambiguous best practice. I'm building up the energy to talk to him about it.
He's a sound designer.
Audio games: designed for people with a vision disability.
Audio game jam: the games tended to be about blindness as a bad thing. It felt victimising.
How can we make people feel powerful?
He was inspired by his dog's amazing sense of smell. The mechanic is that you follow an invisible trail using sound cues, a humming noise that gets louder and quieter.
Sighted people struggle with extracting information from sound. The game is more difficult for sighted people.
He had to add fruit on the ground as an accessibility measure for sighted people.
All music is diegetic: happening inside the world of the game, eg characters are singing.
There's a lack of much budget for audio games, since they're never going to make much money.
In 30 years current 30-something gamers will need accessible games.
Accessibility tends to be added as an afterthought or accident.
For example Pokemon has unique sounds for materials, collisions, monsters that accidentally make it accessible.
Sony reader: US only
Microsoft narrator: good but hard to use as a developer
EA: Proactively adding blind accessibility
Fighting games are often in stereo, blind players can play and even win tournaments.
Demand more from your games.
Developers: find a consultant. Address accessibility early.
It's about empathy. People with disability deserve the same stories to take part in as everyone else.
gameaccessibilityguidelines.com
daisyalesoundworks
binaural sound is going to make a big difference
audiogames.net: where blind gamers go to play games. They're supportive if you ask for advice and feedback.
People don't mind if you don't do immersive, game specific voices and just rely on the screenreader
Sound designers need more love to make VR accessible.
Braille games?? He doesn't know much about it.
Curb cut effect examples: curb cuts for wheelchairs but also useful for prams etc. Subtitles. Think about short term problems that benefit from accessibility as well eg the screen is broken, there's sunlight on the screen etc.
Sounds of a blind person navigating their desktop. To me it sounds like a mangled garble of little bursts of cut off computer speech, here’s a description of what’s going on.
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A Vampire in Kinky Boots
Genre: angst, a bit of fluff Summary: Simon runs his father’s shoe factory, but the business is not going well. Fortunately, Baz Pitch is here to help. Whilst working together, things don’t always go as they hoped for… Based on the musical Kinky Boots, which you don’t need to have seen to understand the story.
Chapter One , Chapter Two , Chapter Three , Chapter Four , Chapter Five
Chapter Four - Soul of a Man
“Simon?” he squeaks in a surprisingly high voice. For a second I almost stop being terrified of him. Then he drops the rat (gross) and I'm reminded again why I should never have trusted him. He's a vampire. And he's been killing people. (Great. I found the killer but I don't think that Penny is going to congratulate me.)
For a moment, I consider fleeing, but then I realize that this might be my best shot to capture him. Finally beat him. I can't believe I never noticed that he was a vampire. I mean, it really just takes a look at him. He looks like Dracula's and Edward Cullen's love child. I guess I just was friends with him for so long that I never would've taken him for a murderer. Yet here he stands. Having just murdered a rat.
I call the incantation for the Sword of Mages, and he looks at me with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. My hand starts shaking. He doesn't look like a murderer. Just scared.
“Fuck,” he hisses, and regains his composure, like it's the easiest thing in the world. (Or like he's done it often before. How long has he been hiding this? Was he a vampire all along? Even when we were still friends?)
He runs his fingers through his hair and my heart starts beating faster. (No. Wrong. Fuck you, heart, stop siding with the enemy.)
I watch his eyes scanning the area and I know that he's weighing his options. He's got no escape route. I'm blocking his way.
“Look, Snow,” he says smoothly and sneers at me, lifting both hands as if to calm me, but his fingers betray him. They're shaking. He's putting on a show. He's just as afraid as I am right now. There he is, trying to play it cool. “I can explain, there's no need for that.”
He points at the sword.
I'm tempted to listen to him, but I won't fall for his mind games. So long as he doesn't figure out my weakness (my stupid, stupid heart), he can't use it against me.
“You've been killing these people from the newspaper,” I growl and take a step towards him.
“Oh shit,” he curses and backs up against the wall. I assume he doesn't have his wand on him, otherwise he would've used it instantly. And he knows me – he can estimate his chances easily. He knows he's at a disadvantage. I have my sword and all he has are his fangs. And to use them, he'd have to get close to me, which is not going to happen.
“So what, Snow?” he snarls. “You're finally going to get what you want? Here's a surprise for you: I've been dead all along. And it was someone else's doing! How does that make you feel?” “Who did this to you, Baz?”
“What, will you let me go if I tell you?” “No?” “Then forget it.”
I get closer to him, always holding the sword in front of me, ready to strike if he makes any sudden movements.
I still want to smooth the frown off his forehead. And I still want to kiss him. I am a fool.
“See, this is just another one of your secrets. Or... is this the reason you've started hating me? Because you started killing people?” “No, that's not the reason. And I haven't killed anybody, Aleister Crowley.” “It's too late to deny anything. I saw the rat, Baz.” “Yes. Exactly. The rat. Why would I kill humans if I could kill animals just as easily?” “Because... their blood tastes better? I don't know. I haven't seen Twilight.” “Fuck, Simon, this isn't Twilight. This is not a story. This is real life, okay? I'm a vampire, that's real. I'm a monster, okay, is that what you want to hear? You've been trying to prove me something for years, here you have it. I'm a vampire. And you could kill me with that sword. That's real, too.”
“You sure I don't need a stake?” “I have no idea, Snow. I've never killed a vampire. But I'm pretty certain a sword through the heart would kill anyone.” What if he's not lying to me? What if he's really a harmless, innocent vampire? Then again, this is Baz Pitch I'm talking to. I don't know what to think. I just want to pause everything and try to make the right decision. But I can't slow down. If only he would tell me something. Something real. “Looks like we're in a pretty tight situation, Baz,” I hiss. “You've got nothing to lose. So you might as well just tell me, don't you think?” “What do you want me to tell you, Simon?”
He looks at me with exasperated, sad eyes and I know that he's given up. He's not looking for a way out any more. And somehow that terrifies me more than anything. Because I know that my sword against his neck is nothing more than an empty threat. I could never go through with it. I could never kill him. And I'd never forgive myself if I would. Not before he tells me. (Not after, either.) “Everything,” I answer.
“Fine, Snow. You got me. I do have another secret. But I'll take it to my grave if I have to.” “Would you really rather die than tell me?” I mumble and I know that I sound hurt. “I mean, maybe I could help you.” He averts his gaze and I hold my breath.
“Believe me, Snow, you don't want to know.”
“Fine,” I snap. “Then you leave me know choice.” “It's okay,” he whispers, “Simon.” And then he looks at me with shimmering eyes, as if he'd wanted to call me Simon one more time. I know that he thinks I'm going to kill him right now. He doesn't lift his gaze off me. As if I'm going to be the last thing he ever sees in the world. And I know that he does care about me, if only just a little. I'm starting to get angry. It's the kind of anger that's only there to eat up the sadness. It tastes bitter combined with my desperation.
“What the fuck, Baz,” I huff, “you'd just let yourself get killed in some dark alley way? You've really sunken low.”
“Hey,” he mutters and a tear runs down his cheek. Fuck no. I can't handle him crying. I'm so short of caving in. He's crying and I just can't believe that he's a murderer or a monster. And I hope that's not just my own insanity talking. “I'm the one dying today, you don't have to insult me.” “No, idiot. You're not dying today. I'm going to take you back to the factory, as a prisoner, and then you'll talk.” I notice his shoulders sinking.
“And this is not the way a Pitch goes down. You're a fighter, Baz. Behave like one.”
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Castlevania Season 4 Ending Explained
https://ift.tt/3wc0Tcr
This Castlevania article contains spoilers.
Netflix’s Castlevania comes to a close in season 4. Trevor and Sypha head to the city where the war with Dracula began, while Alucard finds new purpose beyond his castle. And when a new threat arises that’s bigger than anything they’ve ever faced, the heroes have to band together once again to save humanity.
The penultimate episode of the series feels like a final boss fight, and it’s only fitting that everyone converges at Dracula’s castle for the fireworks. Here’s what happened in the series finale and what it all means for the characters:
So who was Varney really?
There’s more to Varney of London than what we see in the first couple of episodes of the season. Varney’s plan goes far beyond conquering Targoviste and killing Trevor Belmont and Sypha Belnades. He actually turns out to be the main villain, and the final boss, of the season.
Castlevania season 4 drops its big twist in episode 9: Varney reveals that he’s actually the Grim Reaper, a vampiric being who feeds on the souls of the dead. His plan to resurrect Dracula and Lisa Tepes inside the Rebis is truly twisted. By combining their souls, which have been stuck in Hell all this time, inside one body, Death hopes to drive Dracula mad, which will cause the reborn vampire to go on a murderous rampage that will engulf the entire planet. This would mean an endless food source for the Grim Reaper. Fortunately, Trevor and his friends are able to stop this madness just in time.
Why did Isaac spare Hector?
Ever since the death of Dracula, Isaac has been on a mission to avenge his master, punishing those who betrayed the Lord of Vampires. At the top of his list are scheming vampire queen Carmilla and Hector, a fellow Forgemaster who was manipulated into turning on Dracula. While Isaac vanquishes Carmilla and her minions during an exciting battle sequence in episode 6, he decides to ultimately spare Hector despite his role in Dracula’s fall.
It seems that by the time he launches his attack on Styria, Isaac has had a change of heart, wanting only to stop Carmilla from subjugating the world. While he once felt nothing but contempt for humanity, he decides to do the right thing and give mankind a chance at peace. With Carmilla gone and her forces depleted, the world can finally begin to rebuild.
But why does Isaac to let Hector live? For one thing, he recognizes that Hector has known nothing but suffering since he betrayed Dracula and was enslaved by Carmilla and her sisters. Isaac also realizes that Hector was manipulated in the first place, unknowingly helping Carmilla solidify her power. Isaac chooses to carve a new path for himself and allows Hector to begin to do the same, a happy ending for the two Forgemasters.
What is a Rebis and why did Saint Germain betray his friends?
The Grim Reaper’s plan is to transport Dracula and Lisa Tepes’ souls out of Hell and into the Rebis, also known as the divine hermaphrodite in ancient alchemy. The Rebis is a symbol of the “great work,” the ultimate goal of the alchemist, which involves “spiritual transformation, the shedding of impurities, the joining of opposites, and the refinement of materials,” according to Learn Religion. In ancient alchemy, the Rebis represents “a reconciliation of spirit and matter” and has “both male and female qualities.” The “great work” is also used to describe the alchemist’s mission to create the philosopher’s stone, a mythical substance that was said to turn base metals into gold or silver.
This is a bit outside my area of expertise, but as the Rebis relates to Castlevania season 4, it goes back to Count Saint Germain, who is an alchemist who has strayed from his path to find the woman he loves whom he lost in the Infinite Corridor. After helping Trevor and Sypha stop the cult in Lindenfeld from resurrecting Dracula, Saint Germain is finally able to travel back into the interdimensional portal.
But instead of his beloved, Saint Germain encounters a fellow alchemist in the corridor (actually Death in disguise), who tells him that the only way for him to find his lost loved one is to achieve the great work, in this case creating a literal Rebis that will act as a vessel for the souls of Dracula and Lisa Tepes.
How did Trevor survive his fight with the Grim Reaper?
Trevor and the Grim Reaper’s final battle atop of one of the towers of Dracula’s castle can only end in death. Unfortunately for Trevor, he’s tremendously outmatched, as the Reaper’s final monstrous form easily overpowers the vampire hunter. It’s only through sheer force of will that Belmont is able to land the final killing blow, but it comes at a cost.
When Trevor stabs Death in the head with the dagger, the villain explodes in a bright flash of light, seemingly engulfing Trevor in a ball of fire that he couldn’t have possibly escaped. At least that’s what Sypha, Alucard, and Greta think after the blast.
But, just as a heartbroken and pregnant Sypha is about leave the new village of Belmont, Trevor reappears, half-dead on horseback. How the hell did he survive that explosion?
Well, the explanation is a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment: right when Trevor is about to land the killing blow, the camera cuts to a dying Saint Germain, who eyes the key to the Infinite Corridor one last time. According to Trevor, Saint Germain opened the portal one last time, just as the explosion rocked the castle, transporting the vampire hunter to safety in the nick of time. Just go with it.
Read more
TV
Castlevania Season 4 Easter Eggs Explained
By John Saavedra
Games
Assassin’s Creed: What the Netflix Series Can Learn From Castlevania and The Witcher
By Matthew Byrd
Who is Trevor and Sypha’s child?
Trevor and Sypha are having a baby! In the original continuity, Trevor and Sypha have two children, one of which becomes the parent of Christopher Belmont, the protagonist of two Castlevania games for the Game Boy, 1989’s The Adventure and 1991’s Castlevania II: Belmont’s Revenge.
Meanwhile, in the Lords of Shadow alternate timeline, Trevor and Sypha give birth to Simon Belmont, the protagonist of the 2013 Nintendo 3DS game Mirror of Fate. But in the original timeline, Simon is also the protagonist of the very first games in the franchise, the 1986 original and 1987’s Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest for the Famicom and NES.
Depending on which timeline the animated universe wants to follow, Trevor and Sypha’s offspring could lead to either Christopher or Simon. That said, there’s always a chance that a future Castlevania Netflix series could simply introduce a new, never-before-seen Belmont character, the son or daughter of our our two heroes!
Why did Lenore kill herself?
Lenore struggles to find her place among the vampire sisters. Carmilla, Striga, and Morana have turned to war, with Carmilla planning for world domination. Lenore’s role is diplomacy, which is the perfect skill set for tricking Hector into eternal servitude but not the one needed in a time of war. She feels left out and useless.
Things only get worse when Isaac attacks their castle, killing Carmilla and imprisoning Lenore. But unlike Hector, who seems content to be with her, even as he schemes to resurrect Dracula and help topple Carmilla, Lenore doesn’t want live the rest of her eternal life in a cage. She chooses instead to die, walking into the day for the first and last time.
cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });
How are Dracula and Lisa alive?
While we know that the Grim Reaper and Saint Germain were able to use the Infinite Corridor to free the souls of Dracula and Lisa Tepes from Hell, it’s unclear how they were able to find new bodies and resume their lives as flesh and blood. In an interview with Screen Rant, executive producer Kevin Kolde explained what happened after Dracula and Lisa were freed:
“So, Lisa and Dracula are pulled out of Hell by Saint Germain using death magic, and they are put into the body of this Rebis where they’ll be trapped, and Death hopes that they’ll be very unhappy and kill lots of people. Lots of souls to eat. Trevor destroys the Rebis using holy water, so their souls are dispatched from the Rebis. That’s essentially how they get back from Hell to the real world. And they go [back into their own bodies]. It’s death magic.”
It’s canon that Dracula is returned to life every couple generations, so it makes sense that he’d be back, and while it seems like he’s getting a happy ending in the finale scene of the series, Castlevania fans know that happiness is not meant to last in this universe…
The post Castlevania Season 4 Ending Explained appeared first on Den of Geek.
from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3bsu577
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Journal Entry (308-A) 10:45pm -
SO. I’m lab with John (He was “sick” when the rest of the class and I went to go on that expedition-- the one with that 2 dollar stripper murdering everyone-- yeah him ) and I’m explaining everything that happened. Now... I ASSUME he was high for the usual reasons but I’ll continue.
John decided to touch the Stone Mask after I told him not too. Explicitly. Simple basic instructions and what does this asshole do?
Yep. He touches it. Not even that-- he puts it on his face and starts joking around as if it’s not some kind of important artifact that we have no idea WHAT IT DOES. Well... before--
But nonetheless, the idiot cuts his finger on it and the blasted thing activates and stabs him through the cranium. Directly into the brain-- maybe through it fuck if I know.
But you know, you’re dead right? FUcking NO.
THIS buttmunch fucking rises up like he’s rehearsing for the part of Dracula waking up from the coffin, with massive fangs, blood shot eyes (more than normal), sharp-ass claws and the WORSE case of bedhead that I’ve ever seen. Like shit man--
He jumps for me, screaming like a banishee, wrecking the damn lab (I’m not paying for it), and being a BIGGER asshole then he normally is.
Now I don’t like being touched-- I really don’t--. Espcially if it’s on purpose like its not as BAD as Wamuu’s shadow thing but I don’t like being touched--
And he freaking grabs my shoulder and yanks me back-- The natural reaction is to you know. Punch. Scream. Fucking survive. And when I did this electricity came out from my arms and burned the ever loving daylights out of him???
Pretty sure he’s dead-- he has moved for the past hour or so-- and I’ve been like nudging and testing to see it he’s done for. I hid the mask back into my backpack... I can’t leave it here. Hell I can’t leave it at home-- This is just a wonderful turn of events.
...
.... I wonder if I threw John’s corpse at what’s his face... Uh--- Jiji? Jovy? Bonbon? Johnjohn? It was like the name of a monkey--... JOJO! YEAH THAT GUY. If he’d eat it. Better than trying to find a place to bury it-- maybe a chance for me to study how they eat or if they actually do eat humans or whatever.
Welp. Looks like I’m overnighting again.
Santana.
PS. For memories sake, the “Pillarmen” seem to have a low number count? Since I only met like 2? Superior or not, could there be a possibility that they are experiencing the threat of extinction?
#standswap17#journal entries. (standswap)#These are records of just Santana going on his own tangent adventure#:v he might not talk to people but he writes A LOT in his journal
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Halloween requires a degree of open-mindedness and psychic vulnerability not common to your less-introspective holidays. Christmas? String some lights, throw a ham in the oven and let the postman do all the heavy lifting. A round of green beer on St. Patrick's Day makes every Schultz, Dubois and Bukowski feel like a True Son of Ireland, and every mook with a backyard grill and a "Kiss the Cook" apron is King of the Fourth of July. Halloween is different. It's darker, primitive, elemental. All Hallow's Eve meets a fundamental human need that can't be satisfied by colored eggs or a heart-shaped box of chocolates. It's a public celebration of everything we personally don't want to know, a time to deliberately indulge concepts we pointedly ignore on every other night of the year. It's a chance to put a tolerable face on our nightmares, and then dismiss them for being so tolerable. Fact is, if Halloween doesn't make you feel at least a little anxious and uncomfortable, you're not doing it right. And for folks like me who strive to keep Halloween well, it's getting harder every year to do it right. Times were, I could just dress up like Batman and stalk the darkened streets in search of ghostly thrills and free candy, but the neighbors stopped opening their doors to me every Oct. 31 about the same time my beard filled in, effectively ending my trick-or-treating career. After that, I sought Halloween fulfillment at parties and clubs, only to become disillusioned because, no matter how carefully I prepared my costume — astronaut, pharoah, Dracula, Hugh Hefner — everybody invariably thought I'd come as a hobo. Plus, it's a scientific fact that $2 well drinks tend to dampen one's extra-natural sensitivities. It was a crisis of faith. Each October I grew despondent, restive, which was a good start, but I needed more. I needed to reconnect with the irrational dreads and unseen terrors of my youth. I needed to pierce the veil between the bright world of the living and the darkly spirit realm. Turns out, all I really needed was an autumn afternoon in Silver Plume. Wedged between towering mountainsides at the western terminus of the Georgetown Loop railroad, Silver Plume is a living ghost town. Living, because a shade over 150 hardy souls still dwell along its few dusty avenues and occupy its ancient Victorian houses, and because, in summer, its quarter-mile length hums with life. In season, a small but steady stream of tourists hikes among the century-old ruins of the great mines that once made the narrow valley a bustling center of industry. They stroll beneath the town's sun-bright aspens and whispering cottonwoods, unearth treasures in its quaint antique shops and pause to refresh themselves at its humbly excellent diners. I was looking for the other Silver Plume — the one that emerges when the last of the summer people retire for the winter, the aspens have lapsed into barren silence and long shadows drape across the ancient storefronts like a shroud. Surely, I thought, a place so generously equipped with physical reminders of people long since dust must be irresistible to the ghostly set. Eager to get my fright on, I turned off Interstate 70 at Exit 226, crossed back under the highway and parked at the now-dormant railroad depot. A stroll of maybe 200 yards brought me to a rusty, half-open gate apparently leading nowhere. It took several paces into the dense, still woods beyond to realize I was treading hallowed ground. The Silver Plume Cemetery occupies a thickly forested hilltop opposite the town, and once your eyes adjust to the ever-twilit gloom, you discover yourself surrounded by solid ranks of gravestones. While many of the ancient markers are of monumental design and majestic proportions — an indication, I suppose, of Silver Plume's bygone affluence — it's impossible to see more than two or three from any one vantage, making every step an eerie voyage of discovery. Shafts of afternoon sunlight falling upon grasping, snow-covered limbs produced a steady, stealthy commotion of creaks, thuds and snaps — furtive sounds that seemed to sneak up behind me and brush the nape of my neck like cobwebs. It suddenly dawned on me that I'd have better luck somewhere else. I power-walked back down to my car and locked the doors for the quarter-mile drive to Main Street. Parking near Silver Plume's 130-year-old post office near the corner of Main and Woodward, I walked past locked doors and vacant windows until I arrived at the town's only open concern, the Sopp & Truscott Bakery. Mayor Lee Berenato leaned against the trunk of his car, enjoying the sun and the quiet. "Is Silver Plume haunted?" I asked, certain that Berenato spent the bulk of his official energies dealing with supernatural shenanigans. "Naw, I've never seen anything like that," he yawned. "Mostly I do snow removal, trash collection and keeping the dog (chips) out of the street. This is a small town." Berenato was harshing my Halloween buzz, and I said so. Silver Plume is the True Spirit of Halloween rendered in plank and stone, and I refuse to believe its flesh-and-bone residents would let such a scary-good resource go to waste. "Well, we do a haunted house in the Rowe Museum every now and then. Grumpy used to do one at his garage every year, but he died a couple years ago. He'd spend months getting it ready. Grumpy loved Halloween." That's good, but I'll bet you can do better. "A few years ago we did the 'Haunted Town.' I put up tiki torches to make a 'Wall of Fire,' and we even had a troll under the footbridge. That was a lot of fun." I was instantly in love with the Haunted Town concept, and demanded to see one at once. "I don't know when we'll do that again," said Berenato, unhelpfully. "It was a pretty big production. You've got to get people fired up for that kind of thing." So what are you sitting here talking to me for? I recommended he start rallying his constituents immediately and stepped into the bakery. Though less than 50 years old, Sopp & Truscott looks like a place that might appeal to the disembodied. Shane Meredith was busy turning out the sweet treats that have made the bakery a regular stop for skiers smart enough — or lucky enough — to know about it. "Is this place haunted?" I asked, getting right down to business. "I've heard it is, but I haven't seen anything myself," Meredith said. "But I just bought this place from the Buckleys. You should ask them. They've got a million ghost stories." As neither Buckley was expected for some hours, I decided to conduct my researches elsewhere. Now, I'm no more superstitious than, say, your average 8-year-old Druid, but I've always considered it just plain bad policy to leave a bakery empty handed. "What do you have for pies?" I asked. "Two cherry pies just came out of the oven." "I'll take one." It was round and crisp and perfect, and I was in serious danger of losing focus. I hurled a wad of bills onto the counter, grabbed the box and fled into the street — and froze in my tracks. A demonic face grimaced at me from behind the dirty pane of a window directly across the street. I pledged in my palpitating heart that if only the horrid apparition would turn out to be nothing more than a stubborn figment of a five-meat pizza dream, I'd swear off Italian food for life. Tragically, I was wide awake. Anybody who knows me will attest that I'm generally pretty real, but my soulful expedition suddenly felt too real by half. I retreated, trembling, down the street in a fog of fright and confusion, which is how Chris Thome, owner of the town's single bar and grill, The Plume, found me. Relieved to see that he was unquestionably corporeal, I thought to quiet my jangled nerves with light and uplifting conversation. "Is this place haunted?" "This place is totally haunted," Thome deadpanned. "I didn't know it when I bought it four years ago, but the locals filled me in pretty quick." The Plume, it turns out, is pleased to offer poker every Tuesday night, 25-cent wings on Wednesdays, jerked chicken and pork ribs on the weekends, and a resident ghost every night of the year. "The way it was told to me, it's a woman named Frieda who died in one of the back rooms," Chris explained, with no particular drama. "Everybody suspected her husband murdered her, but nobody was ever charged for it. Now she lives here and messes with everybody's head. Things disappear, get moved around, fall off shelves … it can be pretty weird, sometimes. I've had bartenders who wouldn't even go in the back." Well, geez, I'd be a little difficult, too, if my sweet Babu did me the big-time dirt and remained free to pawn my mother's brooch and dance on my early grave. Heck, depending on whom you talk to, I'm difficult right now. But that doesn't make Frieda's unquiet spirit a threat to living souls, does it? "I personally got hit with a commercial coffee maker that she pushed off the top of the walk-in," Thome continued. For what it's worth, the offending coffee maker is only slightly smaller than a Chevy Aveo and has better head room. "We had reservations for a party of 30, and I went in the back to get something. It just flew off and hit me in the head. I was bleeding all over the place. The bartender got all freaked out when he saw me. But I just stuffed towels into my hat to soak up the blood and kept right on working. What else are you going to do?" I know what I would have done, but there was no point in telling Chris. Ironically, having just officially passed beyond the seasonal-goods aisle at Wal-Mart and into the spectral plane, I wasn't necessarily happy with the accommodations. "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is one thing. A bloodthirsty phantom is quite another. Recoiling in horror, I stammered my apologies and made for the door. "You should come back on a Thursday night," Thome said with unaffected good nature. "It's steak night — a buck an ounce." For buck-an-ounce steak, I probably will, in a month or two, maybe, when I've recovered something of my wits. I wandered blindly back up Main Street, panicked and desperate and wondering whether Sopp & Truscott sells whole garlic bulbs. A woman's face suddenly appeared before me, smiling, and I nearly collapsed in the street. Thankfully, it wasn't Frieda after all, but former bakery owner Gail Buckley. I was in no condition to hear another ghost story, and resolved to direct conversation into shallower waters. "So, is the bakery haunted?" "It's definitely haunted," Buckley said, inexplicably pleased at her misfortune. "One day we were just standing there, and a three-tiered cake rack went flying off the shelf. I think this whole town is haunted. You know about the guy who plays the violin, right?" In fact, I did. On a great rock shoulder high above Silver Plume stands a lonely granite obelisk dedicated to the memory of Clifford Griffin. The son of an English noble house, Griffin may or may not have taken his own life in 1887 after getting dumped or not dumped by the fickle object of his romantic desire. Local legend says that on still nights you can still hear the plaintive strains of his violin drifting down the canyon. "Even my house is haunted, and it wasn't even built until 1982," Buckley continued. "One time I had a party for a girlfriend, and we put all of the helium balloons in the guest room. All of a sudden, one of the balloons — just one — floated out all by itself and floated right through the living room. It was pretty weird." "Yes, weird," I gasped, rapidly losing peripheral vision. "Also, our ghost seems to have a thing about instruction manuals," she went on, cruelly ignoring my distress. "They're always disappearing, sometimes for months, then they turn up in the strangest places." It was too much. Pausing just long enough to purchase one of Meredith's hat-size cinnamon rolls, I reeled back up the street to my car and fled down the canyon. With each mile, the crushing weight of horror lifted a bit, and my mind gradually calmed. By the time I got home, I'd begun to apprehend the magnitude of my folly. I'd been wrong to disturb the reclusive phantoms of Silver Plume; wrong to seek my ghostly muse among its mysterious relics; wrong to undertake the ill-considered quest without bringing a change of underwear. From now on, I vowed, I'll roast my pumpkin seeds, watch “Young Frankenstein” for the umpteenth time and keep Halloween in my heart, where it belongs. I dug out an old cassette tape of “Monster Mash,” slid it into my stereo, and immediately forgot how to make the machine play cassettes. Now where in the world is that instruction manual?
"THE GHOSTS OF SILVER PLUME: HALLOWEEN QUEST NETS A TREASURE TROVE OF TERROR" By Stephen Knapp
Canyon Courier www.canyoncourier.com 10-27-2009
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