#inessa;answers

[transmutationisms]

hello, this might be a weird question but i was wondering why alot of communists seem to be against people having multiple sexual partners, it doesn't seem to be a thing exclusive to weird "trad communist" types, lenin himself said that promiscuity is bourgeois and an intoxicant (https://www.marxists.org/archive/zetkin/1925/lenin/zetkin2.htm) and while i could see it being hard to balance with political organizing, a life of being a militant does have to come with alot of personal sacrifices anyways.

there's not going to be a singular answer here because attitudes about sex vary widely among self-identified communists and for that matter so do attitudes about 'communism'. i also am not any kind of expert on lenin or soviet history. however, just looking at his reasoning as stated in this text, the quote you've zeroed in on goes:

Promiscuity in sexual matters is bourgeois. It is a sign of degeneration. The proletariat is a rising class. It does not need an intoxicant to stupefy or stimulate it, neither the intoxicant of sexual laxity or of alcohol. It should and will not forget the vileness, the filth and the barbarity of capitalism. It derives its strongest inspiration to fight from its class position, from the communist ideal. What it needs is clarity, clarity, and more clarity. Therefore, I repeat, there must be no weakening, no waste and no dissipation of energy Self-control and self-discipline are not slavery; not in matters of love either.

emphasis mine.

so, what he's saying (as relayed by clara zetkin; let's assume she's quoting him faithfully) is that sex is a special kind of activity because, like alcohol, it is "intoxicating"—a way of stimulating or stupefying the proletariat, and therefore a threat to both the health of the individual body, and the health and political fortitude of workers as a class. and again:

[Communist youth organisations discussing "sex problems"] is especially dangerous and damaging to the youth movement. It can easily lead to sexual excesses, to overstimulation of sex life and to wasted health and strength of young people. [...] Communism should not bring asceticism, but joy and strength, stemming, among other things, from a consummate love life. Whereas today, in my opinion, the obtaining plethora of sex life yields neither joy nor strength. [...] Healthy sports, such as gymnastics, swimming, hiking, physical exercises of every description and a wide range of intellectual interests is what they need, as well as learning, study and research, and as far as possible collectively. This will be far more useful to young people than endless lectures and discussions on sex problems and the so-called living by one’s nature.

emphasis mine again.

it's important to note here that lenin's objection is not exactly to a certain number of sexual partners, per se (he is consistently scathing of the "disgustingly false sex morality" of bourgeois marriage), but to an 'excessive' amount of sex, which he sees as intoxicating, distracting, and weakening young people, mentally and physically. this argument may sound stupid and bad, and it is. however, it was also a very commonly defended mainstream medical opinion in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries; this is not just something lenin has invented himself. the reference to "degeneration" and the comparison to alcoholism (considered one of the main causes, and symptoms, of degeneration) tell me that lenin is concerned about 'freedom of love' being not a liberatory state, but a corrupting, insalubrious force of social decline, the psychological desire for which results from a reaction to bourgeois morality but fails to free itself from the capitalist conditions giving rise to such ideology.

indeed lenin spelled out his position 5 years earlier, in 1915 (& seems to have remained relatively consistent) in two letters to inessa armand. although he says that people (specifically women) should be free in matters of love from financial calculations, religious prejudice, legal interference, familial prohibitions, &c, he goes on to decry the idea that such "freedom of love" includes freedom from "the serious element in love", freedom from childbirth, or freedom of adultery. these latter three he says are bourgeois, not proletarian, demands.

so, when we put this together, what emerges (exclusively from reading lenin's stated positions; this would be only a first step to a real historical analysis) is an idea of sexual morality that prizes 'restraint' and self-control and views sexual pleasure as dangerous in excess; that opposes bourgeois marriage but also opposes a perceived libertinism that arises as its opposite; that fears energy is being wasted on cerebral discussions of sexuality that distract from the material conditions of oppression & fail to change them; and that is expressed through the medical terminology of degeneracy theory and discourses on physico-moral sensitivity and the susceptibility of the body to exhaustion and corruption by excessive pleasurable stimulation.

again, dissecting lenin on this is not equivalent to providing a general explanation of how sex-negative attitudes arise among communists (& i don't think such a singular explanation exists lol). but there are definitely some throughlines we could trace here, from degeneracy theory (rarely named as such these days, but still a motivating fear in a lot of cultural prognostication) to the general discomfort with 'excessive' sexuality. i don't think communists are more prone to these sorts of ideas than anyone else, but, yknow, also not magically exempt.

[simvanie]

Hi wcif the wet t shirt/swimsuit outfit in this post? (It's in the third photo) thanks!

https://www.tumblr.com/simvanie/753373420054544384?source=share

Hi,

I already answered the wcif for the wet t-shirt here :) I combined it with the Inessa bra accessory from this set, and the Ocean bikini bottom accessory from this set.

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 2, Chapter 10

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

This is a longer chapter than normal...because lots of sh*t goes down!

Enjoy!

————–

PART 2

Chapter 10

Yelena jumped off the counter and stalked towards Volkov. “How?” she barked. “How are they tracking us?”

He just smiled.

Her hand shot out and she backhanded him viciously across the face. His head snapped back, but when he faced her again, that damned smirk was still in place.

“HOW?”

The smirk stretched into another savage smile. “Project планктон.”

“Project Plankton?” Yelena translated, sounding confused. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Volkov didn’t answer. And for the first time since he’d stepped foot in the mansion his unflappable countenance faltered. His smiled slipped and he frowned.

“Answer me!” Yelena demanded.

He didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes rolled back in his head and he started jerking and twitching against the restraints.

“He’s seizing!” Sofia yelled. She ran over to him and shone a pen-torch in his eyes, flicking the light back and forth.

“He’s faking,” Kira said.

“No, Melina warned us this could happen.”

“Stabilise him,” Yelena barked at the medic. “We still need answers.”

“No, we need to get out of here!” Inessa objected. “You heard him!”

“And go where? They’re tracking us somehow.” Yelena turned to Anya. “Is there anything about Project Plankton in Dreykov’s files?”

Anya was already scrolling through her ever-present tablet. She didn’t look up from the screen as she bit out a quick, “I’m on it.”

The Widows crowded around her as she searched through the terabytes of information she’d spent the last few months decrypting. “Got it. There’s a single reference to Project Plankton in a memo from 2013. It was a theoretical nanite programme one of the scientists suggested to Dreykov.”

“Theoretical?”

“Well, it was theoretical when this memo was released. Maybe it became practical in the years since, and Dreykov kept it off the books.”

“Nanites?” Calina asked. “As in nanotechnology? That’s well beyond theoretical now. It underpins all of Tony Stark’s latest Iron Man machinery.”

Katya started rubbing her arms. “And they’re inside us? These nanites?”

Anya finally looked up, her face grave. “Do you remember the injection they gave us all after Yelena disappeared? They must have realised they needed another way to keep track of us after she managed to dig out her chip.”

“How do we get them out?” Calina asked, trying to resist the urge to scratch at her own arms. The though of still having Red Room tech inside her was making her feel nauseous.

“We can’t dig them out, that’s for sure,” Anya said. “There’s a reason it was called Project Plankton. Plankton are tiny organisms carried around on tides and currents. The nanites are in our blood.”

“Can we block the signals?” Calina asked.

“For one of us maybe, but not all of us. Not unless we had a jammer the size of a Buick.”

“Fuck,” Kira spat. “So we’re stuck with them?”

“I didn’t say that,” Anya replied. “I just said they couldn’t be dug out. But there is a way to remove them. It’s mentioned in the memo: plasmapheresis.”

“Plasma-what?” Yelena said.

“Plasmapheresis,” Sofia repeated, using her medical knowledge to explain to the group. “Plasma exchange. You remove a person’s blood, circulate it through a machine which filters out the plasma and anything harmful that’s present in it - in this case, evil little robots - and then the blood is returned with a substitution fluid.”

“Is it safe?”

“Yes, but the bigger question is, how the hell are we going to find a plasmapheresis machine before Volkov’s men find us?”

“That’s your new task,” Yelena ordered. “Calina and Anya, help her with anything she needs. The rest of you start implementing lockdown protocol. I want this place turned into a death trap for any motherfucker who comes looking for Volkov.”

 ———

 Calina tightened the strap on her thigh holster and then checked the clip in her gun. The weapons were just a precaution, in case they ran into any of Volkov’s men. The actual mission was a quick in-and-out bit of grand larceny. Anya had found a private clinic just over the border in Georgia that offered plasmapheresis treatments.

And they were going to rob it.

“Keep in contact,” Yelena ordered, as Calina, Anya and Sofia finished arming themselves. “I’ll send a text every 30 minutes. If I miss a check-in, you’ll know the mansion is compromised, so stay clear.”

“No,” Calina said. “We’ll haul ass back here to provide reinforcements.”

“No, Calina. We need at least some of the group to be safe. In case any of us are captured, we need a team to mount a rescue. From a new base, with no nanites in their system.”

“Has there been any progress on the new base?” Katya asked from her seat at the dining table. She was rigging up a set of trip-wire devices that would be planted in the garden outside.

“We’ve found a place to rent. The money’s been wired, we’re just waiting on confirmation from the broker. Its in Maine, so I hope everyone likes lobster.”

“We’ll finally be living the high life,” Katya joked - or tried to. There was too much tension in her voice to make it believable.

Calina powered up her phone, ready to receive Yelena’s check-ins. But it started ringing 30 seconds later.

Anya groaned. “You have to do something about that. Now.”

Calina nodded and slipped out the front door. She took a deep breath and hit the answer button. “Matt, you need to stop calling.”

“Calina? Thank God,” he breathed.

It had been less than 48 hours since she’d heard his voice, but she’d missed the deep rich sound so much. It made her long to be back in his apartment, sat in the armchair next to him as they talked about books and courtrooms and everything and nothing.

Was this what homesickness felt like?

She buried the feeling. And the grief at the knowledge that it would never be like that between them again. “Matthew,” she said firmly, her voice as cold as she could manage. “Please stop calling. I need this phone line open and I need radio silence for the next few hours.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on? Are you in danger?”

At that moment, Anya, Sofia and Inessa exited the front door. They jogged passed Calina, and Anya called out to her over her shoulder. “Calina, we need to go! Get your ass in the van.”

“I have to go,” she said to Matt. “Stop calling. I mean it.”

“Wait-”

She hung up. Then stared at the device. A part of her - a small, hopelessly hopeful part of her - wanted it to ring again. She wanted some proof that Matt would keep fighting for her. Some proof that his incessant calling had nothing to do with guilt, and everything to do with love.

But the phone stayed silent.

She ignored the irrational pang of hurt. All it meant was that he was respecting her wishes - especially since he thought she was in danger.

She slipped the phone into one of the pouches on her belt and joined her team mates. Inessa was their get-away driver. She looked ridiculously tiny behind the wheel of the large transit van but she backed out of the driveway and onto the main road with ease. Within minutes they were speeding down the highway towards Augusta.

They arrived at the clinic a few hours later, long after the staff had gone home for the night. Inessa parked a block away and the four of them scoped out the street, checking for CCTV cameras and assessing the level of foot traffic.

“Does anyone else feel guilty about stealing from a medical facility?” Inessa asked from the front seat. “People are gonna arrive for their treatments tomorrow and be turned away.” 

“The anonymous $100 000 donation I just made into the clinic’s checking account should lessen some of the pain,” Anya replied.

“Okay. That makes me feel better.”

Calina smiled. It made her feel better too. But she couldn’t help teasing Anya. “Shouldn’t you have waited until after we stole the machines? What if it goes wrong?”

Anya shrugged. “Then our last act as free women will have been one of charity.”

Anya’s off-hand remark went down like a lead balloon.

Free women.

None of them were really free. Even now, there was probably some lackey in Volkov’s ‘faction’ monitoring 4 green dots on a screen and wondering why they’d taken a detour across state lines. That monitoring - that subtle, distant form of control - meant that none of them were truly free.

Their lives would never be their own until they got rid of the tracking devices.

“Let’s get this done,” Sofia growled, echoing Calina’s thoughts. “I want these fucking things out of me as soon as humanly possible.”

The other three women nodded.

Then they went and got it done.

 ———

 At a few minutes after midnight, Anya took a seat next to one of the machines. She was the first one to undergo the procedure.

And she hadn’t volunteered.

None of them wanted to be first - and not because they doubted Sofia’s medical knowledge or were worried about the process. No one wanted to go first, because as soon as they were cleared of the nanites, they would have to leave the compound and start making their way to Maine. They would have to leave their sisters, while the threat of Volkov’s men descending on the mansion grew more and more imminent.

It was Yelena’s plan, and she wasn’t budging on it.

“Sofia says it is going to take 2-3 hours for each exchange of blood,” Yelena had explained to the group as they’d sat around the large dining table. “There are 15 of us in the compound. I don’t have nanites in my system, so that leaves 14 of you to be treated. Even using both the machines that we stole, its going to take more than half a day to treat everyone. Which means, we’re at real risk of not being finished before Volkov’s men arrive.”

“All the more reason why we should stay after we’re treated. Stay and fight,” Kira objected.

Sofia jumped into the debate. “There’s a risk of side effects from the procedure. Dizziness, nausea, low blood pressure, muscle spasms, and more. Not ideal for a combat situation.”

“We need to establish the new base,” Yelena continued. “Like I said to Calina earlier, we need Widows who are free of trackers who can come rescue the rest of us if the worst happens. If we all stay here and fight, we might all lose - especially if you guys aren’t in top form from the procedure.”

“But-” Katya began.

“No,” Yelena said firmly. “This isn’t up for a vote, or even a discussion. There’s no time.” She paused to look at the women around her, and Calina could have sworn there was a hint of tears in Yelena’s eyes. “I know you guys think I’m too controlling sometimes. And too bossy. But I care about each and every one of you. I want us to survive.” She met Calina’s eyes. “And I want us to thrive, and be happy. That can only happen when we’re truly free. This is the best way to get that freedom.”

She’d received several nods of agreement in response. But most of the women around the table just looked resigned, their tight lips and frowns expressing their displeasure. 

They’d pulled straws to determine the order of treatment, and that was how Anya - and another woman called Viktoria - found themselves being hooked up to the machines as the other widows watched.

Viktoria was done in just over two hours. Anya took a little longer - more plasma in her system, according to Sofia. But by 3am, the two of them were nanite-free and on the road heading north.

And another two Widows took their place by the machines.

This process repeated itself throughout the morning. As more and more Widows left, the mansion got quieter and quieter, and the tension felt by those left behind ratcheted up higher and higher. The clock on the wall of the make-shift med bay ticked louder and louder, the noise acting as a constant reminder of the passing of time.

Time they didn’t have.

By midday, there were only six widows left in the house, and each one of them was painfully aware that Volkov’s men could be battering down the doors at any moment.

Sofia calmly disconnected Inessa from one of the machines and helped her to her feet. The smaller woman swayed and clutched at Sofia.

“Are you okay?” Calina asked. She was next up in the chair, one of the last two Widows to be treated.

She’d drawn the shortest of straws, but she hadn’t complained. The Widows were a team - and they were all working towards the good of the whole group - not any one individual. It didn’t matter that she had people that she cared about back in New York - like Alma, her elderly neighbour. And Foggy and Karen.

And Matt.

It didn’t matter that she had more of a ‘life’ to save than the other Widows. She was just one of 15 today.

And it wasn’t like she was planning to return to that life anyway.

Inessa straightened up and waved off Calina’s concern. “Yeah, just a bit woozy.”

Calina nodded and took her seat. She’d already unzipped and pulled down the top half of her Widow suit, leaving her in a black tank top. She stuck her arm out and Sofia got to work inserting the cannula. The medic had gone through her own procedure hours ago but had stayed to make sure everyone else got treated properly.

Katya was sat next to her, finishing off her own plasma exchange. She gave Calina a smile. “Hey, Calina, how’s it going?” she asked, as if they were grabbing a drink at a cafe.

Calina laughed at Katya’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Not bad. You know, apart from having had only five hours sleep in the last three days.”

“And apart from finding out you have tracking robots in your blood,” Katya added.

Calina continued the game. “And apart from knowing that a strike team of Red Room operatives is about to descend upon us at any moment.”

“You guys are hilarious,” Yelena mumbled sarcastically. She’d been prowling from one side of the room to the other for hours, her head buried in a tablet which was linked to the security feeds from the exterior of the property. A stockpile of weapons was laid out on the table behind her, and every so often she would grab a gun and pace with it in her free hand.

She was wound tight. And obviously not in the mood for humour.   

Inessa laughed though, in between gulping down a litre of water. Evidently, plasmapheresis made you thirsty. Kira was the last of the six, and she was guarding Volkov while she waited for Katya to finish and free up her machine.

Volkov had recovered from his seizure but they hadn’t resumed his interrogation. Melina had advised against dosing him with any more of the serum, and between arranging the new base, securing the old one, and treating the Widows, none of them could spare time to torture answers out of him the old-fashioned way. The plan was to take him with them when they left, and resume his questioning on the road.

“You’re done,” Sofia announced to Katya half an hour later.

“Good,” Yelena said. “Katya, you and Inessa grab your things and get out of here.”

“Nope,” Katya said. She zipped up her suit and tightened the bands holding her tightly curled hair in place.

Yelena straightened up. “What do you mean, ‘nope’?”

“Inessa and I already discussed it. We’re not leaving the four of you here alone. You’re going to need firepower if Volkov’s men arrive in the next few hours, and even if they don’t, you’ll need help securing Volkov in the van.”

“Katya-”

“No, Yelena. You and Calina risked everything to get me out of Seoul and save me from the serum. I’m not going to leave you both behind.”

Calina could tell by the firm glint in Katya’s eyes that she wasn’t going to back down. Yelena could obviously see it too. “Fine,” she said, relenting. “Go down to the basement and relieve Kira. Tell her to get her ass up here stat - she’s the last one in the chair. Inessa, grab your weapons and take watch upstairs.” She passed an earpiece to each of the remaining Widows. “All of you, stay on comms and stay alert.”

“Got it, boss.” Inessa scampered out the room and Katya followed behind her.

Yelena glanced at the clock and checked the clip of the latest gun to have made it into her hands. Calina’s own weapon was in her lap, and she had to resist the urge to clench it in her hand like a scared child with a security blanket.

“It’s going to be alright,” Calina said.

Yelena scoffed. “You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

“Okay, maybe not. But if the worst happens, just know that you tried your best, Yelena. You gave us a home, and kept us safe, as best you could.”

“Says the woman who abandoned that home the minute she could.”

Calina sighed. “I don’t want to fight about that again, Yelena.”

Yelena rubbed her forehead. “I know. I’m sorry - blame it on the stress. For what its worth���”

“What?” Calina prompted.

“For what its worth, I’m glad you got those few months of happiness. Even though it didn’t work out, I’m glad you got to try.”

Calina gave her a small, sad smile. “I’m glad too.”

The two women fell into silence…and watched the second hand of the clock tick and tick and tick.

 ———

 The warning came 90 minutes later.

Inessa’s voice crackled over the comm line. “Five blacked-out SUVs spotted on the coast road. They’re coming this way - fast!”

Yelena jerked upright. “Shit! Here we go. Sofia, where are we on the treatments?”

She checked the two machines. “Calina’s receiving the last of the plasma substitute. Kira…Kira still has two pints of blood left to clean.”

Yelena hooked a sniper rifle over her shoulder and barked out her orders to the three women in the room, as well as the two listening in on the comms. “Kira, you stay hooked up to that machine as long as you possibly can, you hear me? We’ll try to buy time. Sofia, as soon as Calina is done, disconnect her, then you stay with Kira. Inessa, head to the basement - help Katya get Volkov to the van. Calina will cover you when she’s able. I’ll be on the roof.”

“On it,” came Katya’s reply.

“Heading down now. ETA on the strike team is 2 minutes,” Inessa updated.

Yelena ran out of the room. The moment the door closed behind her, Calina started tugging off the tape holding her cannula in place. “Get this thing out of me,” she hissed to Sofia.

“No, you need to finish,” Sofia said firmly.

“Are the nanites out of my system?” she bit back.

“Yes, but you need the rest of the plasma transfusion. If you stop now, your blood volume will be low and your blood pressure could plummet.”

Yelena chimed in over the comms. “Listen to her, Calina.”

“No. I’ll take the risk. I need to be out there providing backup.”

When Sofia still didn’t move, Calina took matters into her own hands. She yanked out the cannula. The plasma substitute in the tubing started leaking on the floor but Calina ignored it. She got to her feet, bracing herself on the arm of the chair as her head swam.

Sofia curse under her breath and grabbed some gauze to stem the blood leaking from Calina’s arm. “Stubborn zhopa,” she muttered, as she taped it into place.

Calina slipped her arms into the top of her suit and zipped it closed. She primed the Widow’s bites on her wrists, slotted her gun in her thigh holster and grabbed one of the semi-automatic rifles from the weapons cache. Then she paused in the doorway. She looked back at the other two women in the room and gave them a tight nod. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Kira replied.

“We’ll see you in the van,” Sofia said.

Calina nodded again then took off running. She could hear the distant crunch of gravel as the cars barrelled up the long driveway. Then a muffled pop-pop-pop, as Yelena fired on them from her sniper’s nest on the roof. She must have hit a tire, because there was the sound of a crash as a car spun and collided with something.

Five SUVs, with four-to-five men per vehicle, meant a strike team of at least 20. Possibly 25.

Not the worst case scenario. Six Widows could easily take them on.

But one of those six was still hooked up to a plasmapheresis machine. One was standing guard, and another two were securing an asset.

That left just Calina and Yelena.

Two Widows to stem the tide of two dozen aggressors.

Calina reached the second floor and used the butt of her rifle to smash out the glass from the small window at the front of the property. Then she crouched down, her sights fixed on the bend in the driveway - the bend the convoy would be rounding any second now.

She took a deep, calming breath, and tried to ignore the slight dizziness the action caused.

Two against 20.

Piece of cake.

 ———

 “KATYA, INESSA, ARE YOU IN THE VAN? DO YOU HAVE VOLKOV” Yelena’s shout was barely audible over the gun fire. She’d taken up a spot a few windows down from Calina after sniping the men fleeing from the crashed vehicle. They currently had the occupants of two of the other SUVs pinned down at the front of the mansion, but the whereabouts of the other two cars - and the teams of men inside - were unknown.

It was worrying Calina...but not as much as their immediate situation. There were eight men outside exchanging gun fire with them. At the moment they were trapped behind their cars - nowhere to go but into a spray of bullets.

But Calina and Yelena were running low on those.

“Negative!” Katya responded. “There are at least ten assailants in the house. They’re between us and the garage.”

Shit. The missing teams had infiltrated the mansion somehow.

This was bad. Very bad.

They needed to get out of there.

Now. 

“New objective,” Yelena yelled. “If you can’t extract Volkov safely, kill him. Your freedom is the top priority.”

“Got it.”

Yelena swapped her gun for the tablet and updated the other Widows on what the footage showed. “There are three men in the kitchen, two have entered the living room. Two are coming upstairs to us and the rest are heading towards the med bay.”

She tossed the tablet to the floor, holstered her gun, then called across the room to Calina. “Cover me. I’m going to deal with these assholes out front.”

“What?” Calina yelled. “How?”

Yelena hooked her leg out the window frame and winked at Calina, “Trust me.”

Then she disappeared. 

Calina laid down covering fire as Yelena hit the ground and rolled, but within seconds her rifle clicked empty. But it didn’t matter - the men weren’t firing on Yelena. They started chasing her instead as she bolted around the side of the house. They must have been under orders to retrieve rather than kill.

Calina threw down her rifle and prepared to follow Yelena out the window. But just as she grabbed the sides of the frame there was a massive explosion outside, and the blast wave rocked the house. The ceiling rained plaster and all the glassware in the ornate display cabinet to Calina’s left shattered.

“What the hell was that?” Calina shouted down the comms.

“Someone must have tripped the mines I planted,” Katya yelled. Then grunted. A thud sounded, then there was the familiar crackle of a Widow’s bites.

“It was me,” Yelena responded. She sounded slightly winded. “I led those idiots right through the tripwire. I’m on my way to the medbay.”

“I’m coming too,” Calina called. She jumped out the window and hit the gravel below. She absorbed the landing on bent legs and rolled to soften it, but she still felt a jolt through her recently injured knee.

“You’ll have to go through the house - the path around the side is nothing but flames now,” Yelena said.

“Understood.”

Calina unholstered her gun and slowly eased open the front door. She swung into the foyer, gun outstretched as she cleared the four corners of the room.

Empty.

She made her way - crouched and silent - through the next door and into the living space.

Not so empty.

Two men in black combat armour and grease paint were at the far end of the room. She shot the closest one in the head and he dropped to the ground in an instant. The other spun and fired at her. She dove to the ground behind the sofa. She felt a bite of pain in her side as she landed, but ignored it. She could hear the man stalking towards her so she detached one of the taser discs from her wristband and slid it across the oak floor into his path. Bolts of neon blue lighting erupted from the device and latched onto the mans right leg. He seized as the voltage pierced through his body.

Calina jumped to her feet and ran passed him, following the sound of gunfire deeper in the mansion.

“Katya and I made it to the garage,” Inessa said over the comms. “But we lost Volkov.”

“Shit,” Yelena responded.

“It gets worse. We heard him call in for reinforcements - apparently there’s a second wave of strike teams on standby just off the highway. They’re on their way, so you guys have to get out of the house NOW!”

Calina raced down the corridor and rounded the corner at the end - where she almost collided with another assailant. She ducked under his swinging arm and pounded her fist into his side. They exchanged a volley of hits and kicks in the narrow space, Calina falling to the ground after a brutal punch to the face. But she used it to her advantage - she grabbed the knife from her boot and struck upwards, impaling the man in the gap in his armour between his abdomen and thigh and puncturing his femoral artery.  He collapsed to his knees and she followed up with a stab to his neck. He hit the floor face first and she crawled passed him and staggered to her feet.

Her cheek was throbbing and her her knee was on fire. She was also getting more and more light-headed, and she assumed she was feeling the effects of her aborted plasma transfusion.

She staggered down the hallway just in time to see the last of three assailants crumple to the floor in a pile of his slain teammates. The sound of gunfire coming from the medbay in front of him stopped, then the yelling began.

“Kira, no!”

“Yes. You have to go!”

“What’s going on?” Calina asked, stepping over the bodies and into the room. Three women whipped around to face her. Sofia looked distraught. Yelena looked angry.

And Kira looked…sad. “Calina,” she said. “You have to get out of here. Take these two and RUN!”

She was still hooked up to the machine. Which meant the treatment hadn’t finished. Calina realised the implications straight away and she met Kira’s eyes with horror.

Kira nodded. “I still have the nanites in my system. If I go with you, they’ll track us. If I run on my own, they’ll find me.”

“We’ll come for you, you know we will,” Yelena pleaded. “We’ll-”

“No, Yelena. I won’t go back to them - even temporarily. I can’t do it. I won’t.”

Inessa’s voice came through the comms. “You guys have to leave NOW! We’re in the van on the coast road - head out back and down the hill and meet us there. The second wave are coming up the driveway. They’ll be there in seconds. MOVE!”

Kira unhooked herself from the machine and grabbed the belt of grenades from the table of weapons. She pulled the pin on the first one and held the trigger. “I’m letting go of this in 90 seconds, Yelena. You’re either in the house when that happens or not - you decide. But I’m not leaving.”

Yelena paused for a split second before nodding. She grabbed Kira around the neck and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. Then she turned and ran. Sofia quickly followed.

Calina lingered for another moment, her eyes locked on Kira’s.

She didn’t know the other Widow well - they were different ages, and went through training at different times. But in this moment, she saw herself in the other Widow. She understood Kira’s decision, and recognised the conviction the other woman felt.

She too would rather die by her own hand, than risk being under someone’s control again.

She nodded to Kira, and received one in return.

Then she turned and fled.

She’d just made it out of the back door when she heard the sound of several cars pulling up to the front of the house.

And she’d just reached the bottom of the garden when the force of the blast wave from the explosion behind her lifted her off her feet.

She tumbled to the ground and rolled down the steep hill that led to the coast road. When she stopped, she heard someone shout her name, the syllables muffled as her ears struggled to recover from the sound of the detonation. She felt a set of hands grab her under the arms and pull her to her feet. “Calina, get up! Come on!”

It was Katya.

She staggered onto the road, held up by the other Widow. The van was idling on the deserted road, the back doors open. She clambered inside and collapsed onto the floor with a groan. The doors slammed shut and then they were moving, speeding away from what remained of their home.

“Is everyone okay?” Inessa called from the driver’s seat.

There was a chorus of positive replies from the three other women, but Calina couldn’t seem to find the strength to answer. She felt…strange…as if she was in a tunnel, the light around her slowly narrowing to a far off point.

“Calina,” Sofia called, panic suddenly in her voice. “You’re bleeding!”

“Wha-?” Calina whispered, struggling to keep her eyes open.

Sofia’s hands came down on Calina’s side and she pressed firmly.

Calina reared up as the shock of the pain jolted her from her daze. She looked down to see the right side of her suit was dark and wet with blood. It spilled from between Sofia’s fingers.

“What’s going on?” Yelena yelled from the front of the vehicle.

“Calina’s been shot,” Sofia answered.

She’d been shot.

She remembered the bite of pain as the man in the living room fired at her.

Then she remembered nothing at all…as the world went black.

———

CHAPTER 11 

@hollandorks @yanna-banana @stilldreaming666 @tearoseart-blog​ @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy​ @chezagnes

[wingedcatgirl]

🎩⚰️🦑 for the ask game (I already kinda know the answer to the third one but y'know)

🎩 — What would an Exceptional Story featuring this character be about?

Last time we floated the idea of something about Inessa's past as a Seeker, but if she's getting a second ES we'll want it to be something lighter. Maybe a story about juggling time between her many paramours. The obligatory multiple endings will decide whether she decides to thin the ranks, keep dating everyone, or seek out even more partners.

⚰️ — What's their most common cause of death?

For as blasé as she can be about the prospect, she really doesn't accidentally die all that often. She died eight times getting her weeping scars, and no other single cause of death has yet beaten that. Though if we add up all the times she's seen a chance to do something stupid that will definitely kill her and taken it just to prove she can, those might be a rival.

Lab accidents might also have come close, if not for the fact that the mere state of being heavily wounded is already interfering with science, thereby actually prompting her to do something about it before going to the slow boat.

🦑 — Would they kiss a Rubbery Man?

Well, she's already smooching one half-Rubbery 😘

She would have been more hesitant, before dating Ellesmere. Now, though, she's more familiar with the peculiarities of the Rubbery body. Though even before, she would have considered it.

(FL OC ask game)

[darke15]

CHAPTER 97: GENESIS OF A FIRESTORM

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

Every other memory had come so clearly. When he pulled the trigger in Odessa and Inessa. When he trained soldiers and Widows in Siberia.

He could remember the cold in the chamber. The frost bursting and burning through his veins in the darkness.

But there was also heat.

Heat and sand and sun.

It was numbed heat and a blurred face and whispers of a voice that cracked and rasped.

He knew her once.

She knew him too.

They’d made him forget her.

It was too dangerous to remember.

So they made him forget.

They erased her.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t find her again.

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

CHAPTER 97: GENESIS OF A FIRESTORM

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

☞ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ: Oʀɪɢɪɴs

»Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

TAGLIST BELOW

@thexbookxnerdx // @fadingbakeryfarmoperator // @rhymingtree // @itsmeatballworld // @kippykasey // @turtleedovee // @onewithnomightypowers // @pixviee // @riahmcq // @thequeenofthefallen // @jesuswasnotawhiteman // @fnnshelbys // @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul // @banbananas // @oikawasblueearbud // @itsarussian // @mrsbarnesinmyimagination // @oopsiedoopsie23 // @luhuhzy // @heyimjustlaura12 // @moonlightreader649 // @sighmurderbot // @useless-creature-213 // @xiyouchan // @bookfeen // @afraidofshrimp // @yjck121 // @born-a-sinner-die-a-martyr // @comfortzonequeen // @aftermatharchives

[imagineforeststudio]

Hello everyone.. A small announcement :

1.I'll start with the fact that my game will be published in February (The game is almost finished)..I can't wait to publish, because this is my first game, plus this is a small update

2.

Since I have to open the inbox again, you can ask not only me, but also my characters… And since new characters have appeared (Zara, Sunny, Inessa and Alice), then you can also ask them.

All questions about the game, about my characters, about au and other things - I will try to answer you

That's all

[eeldritchblast]

@ohmypawsandwhiskers tagged me in a writing WIP challenge to share the last sentence you wrote, and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence... but I don't tag others because of anxiety reasons so I'm only gonna do that first part, sorry! To make up for it, here's a whole piece of my WIP:

“Astarion!” someone called out in a shrill voice. “Astarion, you must introduce us to your guest!” A small group of humans and one dwarf waded through the crowd. “Inessa, how lovely that you could make it,” Astarion greeted the woman in the lead. “This is my partner, Cassius.” “A drow? How exotic,” one of the men with a leering smile. Then he asked Cassius, “Do you know the Orlith twins from Sharess’ Caress?” “No,” Cassius lied, despite being able to recall meeting them many moons ago. “How long have you two been together?” the one called Inessa questioned. “163 years now,” Astarion was quick to answer with pride. “Oh my! It’s dreadful only now we get to meet you,” Inessa addressed Cassius. “He is quite reclusive,” Astarion answered for him. The leering man then placed his hand on Cassius’s shoulder. “Might you spare a dance?” “Another time, perhaps,” Cassius replied with as much pleasantry as he could. But the man refused to take no for an answer. “Come now, surely Astarion wouldn’t mind,” he said with a lighthearted chuckle, before dread flooded his face when meeting the deathly stare from Astarion. “I can assure you I would,” Astarion grinned a tight-lipped smile, though the malice still stung in his eyes. The man’s hand fell back to his side. Everyone stood awkwardly still and silent for a moment, before Inessa clapped her hands. “Well then. Much mingling yet to be done! I do hope we can catch up later, dears. Until then!” she then waltzed away to find her next target for pointless chatter, with her entourage following close behind.

[oregano-writes]

Tartaglia's 5-Step Plan for Wooing Morax- Chapter 7: Morepesok

Childe dismissed the cart driver as he reached the outskirts of Morepesok. As he took his bags and began the long walk to his childhood home, he noticed how the forests never seemed to change, no matter how long he was gone. He couldn’t tell if it was comforting or not- on one hand, stability was not something easily accessed by Harbingers, but on the other, it felt like the town didn’t need him– like he was an unnecessary accessory, one that was pleasant while it was around but not missed when it was gone.

He paused his musings when he reached the door of the old house. There didn’t seem to be anyone inside, so he entered, taking off his coat and setting his bags down on the ground. He rummaged through the top one until he found what he was looking for– a small box containing the gifts he had brought for Anthon, Tonia and Teucer. He had been diligent about sending them presents every week or so, but his coming home was a special occasion, and as Teucer would remind him, ‘Special occasions require special gifts!’.

Childe– or rather, Ajax– smiled. Nobody knew he was coming home, so his family was undoubtedly going to be thrilled to see him. Well, his siblings would, at least– his parents were more wary of him. Everyone was civil for the most part, though– his brother Matvey being the one notable exception– and wouldn’t say anything in front of the younger ones.

Ajax heard talking outside the door, before it swung open, revealing his oldest sister, Inessa, and his three younger siblings.

“Anthon, for the last time, you can’t just skip class whenever you forget to do your– Ajax?

Ajax smiled. “Didn’t expect me to come back so soon?”

“Big brother!” Teucer ran at him, grabbing him in a bear hug. Tonia and Anthon joined in a moment later, Ajax getting crushed under a mountain of fluffy jackets and red hair. 

“It’s good to see you too,” Ajax laughed. “Inessa, anything happen while I was gone?”

She smiled. “Mira and I just got engaged, and moving out has been taking up a good bit of time. Luckily, these guys are more than happy to help,” she said, gesturing to Tonia, Anthon and Teucer.

“You too? Geez, at this rate, I’m going to be the only single one left in a few months. What, with you getting married, Lena’s new boyfriend, and Nikolai living in Fontaine, it’ll just be me and the little guys. And Matvey, I guess.”

Inessa looked a bit confused at that. “Nobody told you?”

“Told me what?”

“Matvey’s engaged to that baker girl, Sofia. He has been for months– you really didn’t know?”

Ajax smiled apologetically. “It must have slipped my mind.”

He didn’t even tell me about his engagement?

──────── ✧ ────────

He and Matvey were close when they were younger, Matvey being only a year older than Ajax himself. He had been one of Ajax’s only friends. They went fishing together, listened to adventure stories together, went playing in the woods together– his mother used to say they were practically joined at the hip.

That is, until one trip into the woods resulted in Ajax falling through a break in the land, disappearing for days.

When he finally escaped, collapsing on the doorstep of the house, battered and bloody, it had been Matvey who got him to a doctor, Matvey who stayed by his side while his wounds were painstakingly repaired.

Even then, Ajax knew the kindness wouldn’t last forever.

──────── ✧ ────────

Teucer and Anthon each had a million questions about Ajax’s time in Liyue– ‘What’s the food like?’ ‘Did you see any cool rock monsters?’ ‘Do the people eat rocks?’

‘Are the people made of rocks?’. There were a lot, and he struggled to answer them all, but it was Tonia who (unwittingly) decided to be mean to him that day.

“So, Ajax, did you meet anyone in Liyue?” The question was accompanied by over-the-top eyebrow wiggling.

“Uh–” Childe flushed slightly at the memory of Zhongli’s promise before he left– “I don’t– not like that?”

Tonia gave him a suspicious look. “So there was someone?”

“Um– no? Not really?”

“Aw, c’mon, you don’t have to be shy!” she exclaimed. “Just spit it out!”

“He didn’t– I mean, there was a guy, but nothing actually happened.”

“Oh? Do you mean that one consultant guy you mentioned in your letter? What’s he like?” she asked, eyes lighting up in interest.

Ajax sighed. “He was smart, pretty, and way out of my league, Tonia.” He accentuated this point by flicking her lightly on the nose. “Men like that are better left in fairytales.”

“You’re no fun!” Tonia pouted. “And besides, how could some dusty old academic be out of your league? You’re kind, and smart, and plus, it’s not like your toy seller job pays badly.”

Ajax glanced nervously towards his two younger brothers, but they had evidently been uninterested by talk of romance and had instead moved on to trying to guess what was in the box he had brought by shaking it from various angles. “Tonia, please be more careful,” he sighed.

Tonia rolled her eyes. “They’re going to figure out some time, Ajax.”

“Yeah.”

──────── ✧ ────────

When Ajax woke up, his side full of stitches and his head woozy from anesthetic, the first thing he noticed– besides the stark lack of Abyss surrounding him– was Matvey’s concerned expression as he started to get up.

“Ajax, sit back down. You’ll pop a stitch.”

Ajax rolled his eyes. “It barely hurts.”

Matvey gave him a horrified look. “Ajax, you almost bled out on the porch. What happened to you? Where were you?”

Ajax looked away. “It’s not important. What matters is that I’m back now, and I’m fine.”

“Ajax. Listen to me. Just tell me what happened. It’s been three days, Ajax.”

Ajax blinked. “Three months, you mean?”

Matvey’s expression morphed from concern to confusion. “What are you talking about? You disappeared three days ago. Not months.”

“I… oh. Alright.”

“Please, Ajax. Just tell me what happened.”

Ajax looked away. “You… you wouldn’t like it.”

“Ajax.”

He kept his eves trained on the ground.

“What did you do?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Like hell it isn’t! Do you have any idea how worried we were? I thought you were dead!”

Ajax froze.

“We’ve all seen that shiny new vision at your hip, Ajax. You really expect me to think that you got that doing nothing? Do you think I’m stupid?”

“No, I would never!”

Matvey looked at him, expression steeling over. “The old Ajax would have told me.” With that, he picked his coat off of its hanger, collecting his things. “The doctor says you should stay in bed for at least another two days. Hopefully, you’ll be able to tell everyone where you were when you get out.”

“Two days? Come on, can’t you cut a guy some slack?”

Matvey sighed. “Goodbye, Ajax.” He did not slam the door when he left– there were other patients in the building, of course– but he did shut it with a decidedly frustrated clunk.

──────── ✧ ────────

Later that night, after Ajax had given out his presents to the children (A ruin guard kite for Teucer, a Liyuean go set for Anthon, and a pair of earrings and matching bracelet for Tonia) and Inessa had gone home, the door opened again. This time, it was Lena coming home with his parents, the three of them laughing together, seemingly about the recent affairs of one of the locals Ajax hadn’t seen in years.

“Ajax?”

“In the flesh,” he replied with a smile.

Lena ran over to tackle-hug him, while his parents exchanged wary glances.

“It’s so good to see you! Anthon here was half afraid you would like Liyue too much and never come back!”

At the look Ajax sent him, Anthon looked at the ground and sighed. “I didn’t say it like that exactly. And besides, isn’t that what Nikolai did?”

Lena reached over to pat him on the head. “Well, Nikolai is a chronic homebody and even more chronic nerd. Our dear Ajax would never abandon us for plays and concerts, isn’t that right?”

“Of course. It would take at least a good restaurant or two to keep me from leaving.”

Lena punched him on the arm. “What Ajax means to say is that he would never abandon us like that.”

“Speaking of ditching us, where’s Matvey? I thought he was coming over today?” Tonia interjected.

Ajax had heard his footsteps when he entered through the back door. Even now, he avoided Ajax whenever he was home.

“I don’t know, Tonia.”

──────── ✧ ────────

Ajax did not end up staying at the hospital for the next two days. He left as soon as he had a moment away from the constant supervision of the doctors. Things with Matvey didn’t improve, but the situation didn’t really fall apart until Ajax got involved with the Fatui. He had finally snapped, getting into a fight with a group of local Fatui agents. However, when they called for backup, instead of being killed for his treason, he was recruited. When he told his family the news, the only one who wasn’t surprised was Matvey. He took Ajax aside right before the Fatui came to pick him up.

“I don’t know who you are,” he had said, “but you aren’t Ajax. Ajax never came back from the woods, did he?”

That was the last time Matvey ever called him by his real name. From then on, he was always Tartaglia– if Matvey spoke to him at all.

[rcox808]

FAITH IS...

... reliance on the certainty that God has a pattern for my life when everything seems meaningless

... remembering I am God's priceless treasure when I feel utterly useless

... depending on the fact that God is Love - not on my ability to figure out

the why's in the midst of smashed hopes, reversal, and tragedy

... keeping on when I am dog tired, discouraged, disillusioned, deserted, dusty and dry

and I cast on His strength alone

... realizing that I am useful to God, not in spite of my scars, but because of them

... confidence that God is acting for my highest good when He answers "No" to my prayers

... accepting the truth that, in spite of the wreckage and grief I've caused,

God who has wiped the slate clean and delights in me

... recognizing that God is the Lord of time when my idea of timing doesn't agree with his

... not a vague hope of a happy here after but an assurance of Heaven based on

my trust in Christ's death as payment for my sins

... remembering that, though my way is dark as night to me,

God can see and guides me unerringly

... doing the right thing regardless of the consequences knowing God will turn

the ultimate effect to good

... the conviction the Promiser keeps His promises.

(author unknown)

Artist: Michael and Inessa Garmash

Art source:http://ipaintingsforsale.com/painting/Garmash/sunny_day-9755.html

[someotherdog]

inessa was a survivor. inessa was tougher than terezija, and it felt like she was never not reminded of this fact. she knew the only reason she survived so long was due to inessa's protection. terezija stuck onto her like a barnacle and she hoped that survival mindset would rub off on herself. it hadn't. she wished the world would go back to the way it was before. she wished she wasn't so weak. in body and in mind. biting the inside of her cheek, she tried to focus on that little bit of pain so she wouldn't cry. don't get emotional about it. easier said than done, she thought. inessa was right, though. it wasn't going to get any better, only worse. which begged the question of why they even tried to keep going. terezija didn't know the answer. she didn't want to. "i can't shut my emotions off like you can." terezija finally retorted, but picked up her backpack off the ground and fitted back over her shoulders. god forbid she be sad about death and destruction. "but i'll work on it. let's just get out of here before we're next."

Sometimes Inessa had to wonder if it was worth traveling with Terezija. Would it be easier if she was alone? If she didn't have to worry about another person and just focus on herself? But she knew there would be downfalls to being alone. Safety being one, but they'd both seen how people's humanity seem to wither away and disappear once alone. With how unaffected she was in comparison though, maybe she did have to consider how much humanity she had to begin with. She let out a sigh, stopping the irritated frown from forming over her lips. "Yeah, well, I doubt it's going to get any better, Terezija. I don't plan on hoping we won't see something horrible like that again, because I know we will." Hell, there was the chance it would be worse the next time. "You're just better off not getting emotional about it to save yourself the stress."

[ourwrittenstories-arch]

Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. ( For Daphne !!!)

[Text:Daffodil🌼] My Queen of the Night's are blooming tonight. You should come over to see. [Text:Daffodil🌼] That was a really lame excuse to get you to come over, but they really are gorgeous when they bloom!

[stinkrascal]

When you say they bully vlad, is it bully affectionate or bully bad?

mostly bully affectionate but vlad takes literally everything personally because he is an insecure narcissistic baby man so when they mock him he's like "I've no idea why I bother with the likes of you people. You are all moronic, crass, and therefore beneath me." to which theyre all like "ok Vladdy Daddy <3 whatever makes you feel better!"

[starplinko]

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 // accepting !!

@inthcgartcn​ asked : ‘  why  is  this  here?  ’ from Inessa

࿐ྂ₊˚✩ —  ❛ I FUCKED up, Inessa. . . ❜ There’s a level of seriousness within his tone that could rarely be heard whenever he happened to be talking about anything else. HOWEVER, the glowing pod of a plant that happened to be growing at an alarming rate within the back of the other’s van was proof of Luka’s statement, as he simply took a step back and placed his hands upon his hips. This was frightfully and terribly horrible. Not because he had basically just let a plant that wasn’t even native to earth SPROUT, but because he had just missed the delivery window that he was supposed to drop this thing off at. FUCK. . . He had to give it away BEFORE it sprouted !! Now there was no way he could take it back into space without it basically BLOWING up. ❛ This thing is sensitive. . . I can’t take it WITH me, but this means it’s a lost product. . . I had to deliver it as a seed !! Does that thing look like a seed to you !? It’s a whole FUCKING plant now !! Why is it here !? BECAUSE, I DON’T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO DO WITH IT !! ❜

He’s quick to kick a nearby rock, basically hurtling it into the distance which such speed that it’d be a miracle if it didn’t hit anyone. Still, his hands were placed at the side of his head as he huffed in frustration. ❛ AUGHHH. . . My Postmaster is gonna fucking KILL me. . . ❜

[pin-acolada]

not rhaena calling inessa a bastard like, girl.... you don't know what luke, jace are? inessa is a pureblood princess

She honestly thought she did something 😂

Note: if you want to be tagged on The Realms Angel for the next chapter, please let me know by messaging. For some odd reason I can’t answer your guys reply, and I keep trying to figure how to turn my replies on to like answer your questions. So by the meantime feel free to message me on here, and I will try to answer back.

xo pinacolada 🍍

[renjamming]

Id love to hear about your ocs they look sooo cool

I WAS GONNA DRAW SOMETHIN but I’ve got a cold and all my energy is sapped so I shall just type hi!!

My ocs r in a universe of my own making basically where like instead of countries it’s territory wars between gods of different forms of architecture, tho there are 3 city behemoths (the gods (they’re not really gods kinda gods idk lol)) specifically of varying architecture styles however forming a semi-coalition but still drawing broad lines between each other yada yada most of my mortal ocs are from the brutalist part of The City and those include: Phares, Gnulray, Inessa, Cassielle, and Murmur. Tho my blonde guy that has the teal and yellow cape is named Cables and he lives in Whitering where the behemoths don’t really cross. Whitering is its own can of worms. Uhmm from the gothic region theres Bancroft, Sloan and Ichabod theyre pretty much a weird ragtag awkward family reunion energy. I have a toyhouse but it’s incomplete and disorganized and I plan on starting a new oc side project too ehe. Basically here’s a rundown of each character (they’re all 30+ btw. Unless I’m missing someone idk) also idk how this is gonna look when I post it the format is weird on mobile

Phares: purple suit + green hair, cool calm and collected but not very empathetic worst advice giver unless it’s advice for a test (if xe had the heart to give u the answers) (she/xe)

Inessa: short curly purple hair + gray and gold suit, workaholic strategist from a rich family who’s really sporadic idk she’s like midlife crises mom office job (she/her)

Gnulray: masked with bug like features + green red and gray, actually very little info on him bc he disappeared off the face of the earth in canon (thon/he)

Cassielle: blues and golds + real dark green almost black hair, overcompensater of the year award goes toooo Cassielle, overbearing and hyperorganized she’s the only cisgender (she/her)

Murmur: shrouded face + very much not human, you’ll kinda know when u see him he’s very exciteable and would frolic if he knew what that word was (he/him)

Cables: blonde with yellow and teal tones, human ur classic 50 year old burden of saving people guy he started as a writing project for a class like two years ago. Look how that turned out (he/him)

Bancroft: scarecrow looking one with blonde long hair and black hat and cloak, weird girl Wednesday and always in a silly goofy mood (she/he)

Sloan: very gray with a red string around his neck, obligatory headless horseman lameguy he sucks party pooper protective but in a “tch.. don’t think about it too much” way (he/xe)

Ichabod: pumpkin on head eerieguy is he contemplating something or is he just autism we’ll never know (he/it)

I’ll add Constance eventually idk he’s also there but he’s more intwined with the behemoths than his fellow mortals (werewolf guy he/him)

[gccdstories]

@an-endless-saga​ // 

Proteus looked back to the palace. He counted his children again. Cassian. Where was Cassian? Inessa should have brought him by now. His fingers clenched and he looked back to the palace moving toward it. He stilled at Devlon's hand on his wrist.

"They are gone Proteus, we must -"

He snarled and wrenched his hand away.

"I am not Sebastien content to left my loved ones bodies. No, if - if they're dead I will get their bodies. If you want to be a coward - don't drag me down with you Devlon."

He didn't wait to see Devlon's face as he slipped into a broken window. He shifted like it was second nature. Sometimes he remembered the trading vessels he'd helped his older siblings manage. Before the slavers had come, before he'd been bound and saved.

He owed Sebastian a lot - but not this. Not this. He moved through the hallways blood and armor crunching under his paws. No fighting, they'd massacred everyone already. He felt for some shred of that bond, the one that had made him save his Inessa's masters that day on the docks.

He found her, found them both in a hallway. The balcony a few feet away - why hadn't they slipt out? Proteus phased back and slowly walked toward him. His heart shattered seeing the answer for himself.

She was dying, the fiercest warrior he'd known had been felled. What hope did any of them have now?

He knelt before then gripping Cassian's wrist.

"We need to leave. Cassian - we need to leave."

They needed to get her body, they needed to run before — he spun to his feet in time to see one of the Winged Fae land in the shattered glass of the balcony. He called on his blade, on his powers that he had honed over 200 years.

"Micah. Here I thought you were content to let your soldiers do the bloody work.'

Micah raised his sword, his armor gold and blazing. He looked like he had when he'd attacked his ship with his father. Arrogant, vain - gleeful.

"Now what lesson would that to be my son?"

He stepped aside and Proteus sneered seeing the younger version of him. A little more softer, younger than his father had been. Perhaps that's why his father had taken him here - what better way to beat the softness out of him than with carnage? The boy already had blood on his sword and armor - he wasn't some innocent child in this.

Proteus met Micah's strikes, enough to cut and slice at him. Enough to hold him off for a bit. Enough to have him fall back against a wall.

In the momentary lull he looked to Cassian. He swallowed his softer words, he'd feel it wouldn't he? The Changeling in him would feel all the words he didn't have to time to say.

'"Run. Do you hear me Cassian? Run. Do not wait or look back."

Micah spat on the floor and slowly got to his feet. He jerked his chin at Cassian.

"Do not let him get out of this room Drakon."

𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀����𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒, his head pounding with the sound. He isn’t afraid-- no, that’s very much a lie. Cassian is terrified, but he cannot show it. He will not. 

When the winged fae come in--he knows the enemy as they are. They are not a part of this, Cassian and his family. There is a darkness in the others, their featherlight wings ones that resemble a great hunting bird-- of death. Of the carnage that lays scattered in this city. 

Swords clash, weapons and power as Proteus fought the older one, as Cassian glances between the fight--and the body in front of him--and the door not far away. He knows he can make it; he’s fast. Agile. But how can he leave? 

That’s the cowards’ way. To run in fear and horrid terror while those he loves fight for safety-- 

Cassian shakes his head, steeling himself as he brings a weapon to hand. He’d been training before this whole massacre started; his weapons are still on his body. He pulls one forth, glances between everything going on--and the approaching winged monster. 

❝ I can’t-- ❞ he starts to say, as the older male tells him to run. To run and not look back. He takes his fighting stance, knowing this might very well be the end of everything. ❝ I can’t just run and leave. ❞

But I will make them pay for this. I will make them suffer! 

And he attacks the one called Drakon first, not waiting to go on the defensive. There is no such thing in this attack.