#infused with this sense of pointlessness

[felassan]

June 25th Game Informer article on DA:TV - cliff notes:

In CC we will be able to customize qunari Rook's horn type and material

There are "hundreds of options" in CC

Duelist spec for rogue class is the fastest, with 2 blades for rapid strikes

Saboteur spec for rogues uses tricks and traps

Veil ranger spec for rogues is purely ranged, sniping enemies from afar with a bow

The death caller mage spec is necromancy

The evoker mage spec wields fire, ice and lightning

The spellblade mage spec uses magic-infused melee attacks

The reaper warrior spec uses "night blades" to steal life and risk death to gain unnatural abilities

The slayer warrior spec is a simple but strong 2handed weapons expert

The champion warrior spec is a tactical defense fighter

Specs don't matter up front like in CC or anything ("you class into them via the skill trees you progress through the game")

Selecting Rook's faction is the penultimate step in CC

The Lords of Fortune are pirated-themed

Each faction has unique casual wear worn in specific cutscenes when the character isn't wearing armor

Each faction has 3 unique traits, e.g. for Lords of Fortune, they gain additional reputation with this particular faction, have increased damage versus mercenaries, and perform takedowns on enemies with slightly less effort

"Faction selection, which ties into your character's backstory, determines who your Rook was before, how they met Varric, why they travel with Varric instead of their faction, and more"

"The message of The Veilguard is you're not saving the world on your own – you need your companions, but you also need these factions, these other groups in the world. You help them, they help you now".

Each spec is tied to a faction

Each faction has a companion "as well as [people BioWare are calling agents, ancillarily] who exist as the faces of these factions. We didn't want to just say, 'Here's the Grey Wardens, go deal with them.' We wanted characters within that faction who are sympathetic, who you can see and become the face of the faction, so that even if there are moments where the faction as a whole may be on the outs with you, these characters are still with you; they've still got your back"

BioWare wanted to avoid pointless stuff like 'gather 200 random resources'. The factions want to help you but have realistic challenges and problems in front of them "so that narratively, it makes sense why you help them in return for their help when the time comes"

Rook's appearance, lineage and class can be changed using the Mirror of Transformation in the Lighthouse

Update: the article has been updated with the following Editor's Note -

"[Editor's Note: This article previously stated players can change their physical appearance, class, lineage, and identity using the Mirror of Transformation. That is incorrect as class, lineage, and identity are locked after you first select those. The article has been updated to reflect that, and Game Informer apologizes for any confusion this mistake may have caused.]"

[source]

[alcqraz]

★ summary — during a sweltering day at the horse races, anthony bridgerton finds himself rather enchanted by a sharp-witted, and competitive newcomer... however his greatest challenge turned out not quite to be their playful banter but perhaps something deeper than just that. ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★★ pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem! reader ˖˙ ꔫ —★★★ content warnings. n/a ˖˙ ꔫ —★★ word count. 3.8k ˖˙ ꔫ —★ genre. fluff? not really. idiots in love except they don't know they're in love...? anthony being anthony?? ★ authors note: excuse my god horrendous writing, i fear i have just come back from a 2 year hiatus and well.. it seems as if all my writing sense have bene diminished into the ends of the earth. also mutuals. i need mutuals please, i need to be insane to someone.

Anthony always enjoyed a heartfelt competition.

Perhaps a bit too much for the likings of others, but it always seemed to be infused with his blood. It all came so naturally to him; there was no need to try. As a young boy, he would compete with his brothers, Benedict having quite a hearty laugh when he would fail to beat him in whatever makeshift game they conjured up. It made it worse for the already tense gentleman because his annoying, bothersome brother would never stop bringing out how he was younger than Anthony during such times.

But he was not a quitter. He never was, and he decided that he never shall be. Anthony perpetually told himself that, and the results always ended up in his favor at the end of the day. Just as victory appeared within his reach, he let it go once more, easily slipping through his fingers in the subsequent round. Anthony has always been perplexed as to why this pattern only ever appeared to surround him or why he only noticed it within himself far too much. 

It seemed quite the same when it came to his love life as well. Taking away the winning part—he never quite seemed to win. Conceivably, Anthony never thought he could truly love someone with his entire being; the sensation felt so foreign and despicable to think about. An acquaintance, he supposed, was something he could settle with. And yet, an admirable acquaintance proved hard to find in this economy. The number of women that lined up for a dance, a date—whatever it may be, were all too simple-minded, credulous, or even dumb, if Anthony really thought about it. None of them appeared to be a suitable partner.

Those thoughts haunted him day and night throughout the season—the wonder if he’ll ever meet anyone well-suited for him, he pondered to himself. Anthony deemed himself rather fortunate that he was a busy man, bustling about a handful of places in need to complete the tasks firsthand. When he had his hands full with some problem, even if it may be pointless, occupied his mind enough for him to forget about his marital issues. Taxation never seemed more interesting to him.

Conversely, he found that it bothered him most during social events. Whereas his problems stood face-to-face against him, sometimes it felt as if it were a direct punch to the gut. With the remaining eligible ladies dwindling, his temper for it all only grew to being far more annoyed than anything else. Any other year, Anthony would’ve respectively enjoyed the horse race that he attended within the company of his brothers, but at this time, his mind had been elsewhere as he mindlessly stumbled his way around the course grounds.

There were a number of people that stood around him, chatting expressively with one an

other. Ladies whispering in hushed tones, their husbands gathered amongst themselves, likely betting against one another. Anthony couldn’t help but to do so himself—a solid bet did him well most days. Although, perhaps, he wasn’t the brightest when it came to the subject despite betting upon the favoured horse.

Anthony tugs heartily at his neckpiece, adjusting the pressure against his throat as it pressed in such a peculiar way that he began to pay some mind to it. He adjusted it so that it was allowed to rest lightly, not entirely choking him out anymore as it had done just moments ago. The effort ended up being weirdly abominable.

Peeved, bothered, and sweaty, he decided sullenly the lemonade that the event offered would not be such a bad idea to him after all. Refreshing was the only word that happened to catch his mind as he politely hurries his way towards where the stand had caught his eye as he made his way into the event. It seems as if half of the people there had a similar idea, heeding from the lengthiness of the line. He could perhaps find some place else to get some refreshments, but if Anthony is being honest, the idea of continuing to walk in this heat whilst unknowing if there even was anything waiting for him out there, wasn’t one that he would immediately jump to. And so he begrudgingly waits.

The sun beats down harshly upon him, and he tirelessly slides off his top-hat to appease the sweat that had begun to cling onto the sides of his forehead. Anthony dabs the beads away silently with the cuff of his coat when no one else is paying any mind to him. He liked to call himself fortunate as the line dissipates fairly quickly, and it is only a few minutes later when he finds himself nearing the refreshments area.

“Cooling, is it not?” 

It takes Anthony a beat to realize that the sudden intrusion of the voice is addressed towards him. He swivels his head, pivoting himself so he can adjust to the sudden change in position to locate where the sound had come from. He is quick to answer the question as the fine-looking lady standing next to him stares right back into his betrothed soul.

First impressions always stuck near and dear to Anthony, and while usually it would be noted of their personality and not much else, he finds himself in a different situation to the norm. The first thing he notices happens to be the alluring eyes, mysterious with a gaze that would unsettle any person, man or woman. But the expression read differently, a polite smile stretched upon the delicate skin, her fair hair conditioned beautifully for this particular sunny day. Anthony is quick to return the smile, as he had done so many times before in the past. He could regard it as a daily occurrence now.

“Indeed, it is.” His response is considerate, his voice moderately even; it’s as if he were trained for this. And Anthony supposed he quite literally is trained for it. “Especially on a day as sweltering as this.” 

He can faintly hear in the background a man grumbling incoherently about keeping up the line, and he apologetically (although he doesn’t feel very apologetic) responds to the not-so gentleman behind him. He hastily picks his glass, an internal groan erupting in him when a couple of drops spill onto the earthly grass. At least it had avoided his clothing by its means. Anthony had already begun to walk away, lemonade secured, when he noticed the same lady who had engaged him in a brief conversation engaging in the same direction that he was headed. 

“Such events are quite amusing,” Her words are delicate, but they are firm enough for Anthony to know that she stands her ground. She stands ever so beautifully, firm but beautiful, letting her dress flutter slightly into the soft breeze that washes over the course. “I can not say that they were common in my homeland.”

Ah. So that is why Anthony failed to recognize her—a new citizen, or possibly just visiting some family for the season. After all, Mayfair was quite prestigious in its ways if you stood in the high rankings. “So I take that you are not from here?” He questions, even though he already knows the answer.

The lady shakes her head, the hair atop her head bouncing as she does so. “Not quite.” She responded appropriately. She rattles off some place that Anthony had surely never been before, and he nods upon hearing the answer. "I am here visiting, as my cousin kindly offered to host me, and who am I to decline such a gracious invitation?"

The words rolled sweetly off her tongue, as if she were making a harmonious melody. Certainly a clever tongue in her mouth, Anthony could think to himself. “Well then, I must certainly assume that you are here for the season.” 

It was an honest question. The lady looked to be in her earlier years of life, if Anthony really had to make a guess. Fair skin, beautiful features, and a voice as gorgeous as the waves in the ocean—what else would she be doing in Mayfair at this time of the year? It only seemed reasonable to make that assumption. He stands correct when she pushes her head down as an agreement, “Yes.” She says, yet she pauses for a beat before continuing her sentence, "Though I must say, it is quite a considerable departure from what I am accustomed to back home.”

"In a manner most agreeable, I trust?" Anthony says, and the lady smiles approvingly. It was quite a sugary smile, the sort that sat well within the presumably older man. It looked as if the course grounds had gotten crowded by tenfold since Anthony had turned his back, making the exertion towards the stands much harder than what it should’ve been.

“Well, yes.” Whereas, the tone of her voice contradicted what her words have stated. The lady’s eyebrows furrow for a mere moment, as if he were contemplating something of sorts. “Nevertheless, it is quite hard.”

He inclines his head. Anthony could somewhat agree with her words—the season was always stressful, a throatful of things to stress and worry about, a million matters to perfect to attract the best of the best. He had never felt too stressed, perhaps when he was swarmed with tasks to complete for the up-and-coming ball or party, but never on his performance at such events. Anthony believed that is why he suddenly threw himself in as an eligible bachelor, and the best if he may add, was so diminishing. "With a lady such as yourself, I must presume it is not exceedingly difficult."

The lady, which Anthony now realizes that he does not know the name of, blushes a shade of pink that could only be described as warm, like a rose pelting in the wind. She laughs graciously, accepting the compliment with ease. “I must confess, I am flattered, Mr…” Her words trail off as she too comes to realization with the fact she does not know how to address the young gentleman.

“Lord Bridgerton.” He introduces, his voice not in any way condescending as many others may take him on to be.

Anthony takes note of the way the lady’s eyebrows raise up in surprise, followed by the rather flushed look that began to tint at her cheeks. "Oh dear, I beg your pardon, my Lord." Tilting her head down hesitantly as if she were unsure of what formality would be the most appropriate. It almost forces a chuckle out of the Viscount.

"And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" Anthony continues on as it is only polite to ask so. 

"Mm, indeed. How remiss of me not to mention it beforehand…” The lady says, letting out a sort of awkward laugh that could be seen as rather affectionate. “My name is Y/n.” The lady states, followed by a surname that Anthony can faintly remember to be as one of the other Viscounts that lived in the city, although he couldn’t quite say he knew the name all too well. Certainly not one that he had talked to on the occasion.

“I see,” Anthony nods along, a faint smile tainted upon his lips before he even knows it himself. “Charming gentleman your cousin is.” He could not say if the man was truly charming, or a gentleman at all, as he had only read a couple lines about it from the Lady Whistledown paper that his family had received a couple of long weeks ago. 

“Charming, indeed.” The words were more so grumbled, as if she didn’t quite agree with the statement. “That is certainly one way to describe him.”

He chuckles at the disdain laced upon her voice. Anthony fairly enjoyed the new sense of emotion—most ladies he had the pleasure of talking with all embellished their compliments in spite of thinking the opposite. Being able to hear an objection that wasn’t sugarcoated heavily; Anthony would think that he notably liked the trait that distinguished Y/n.

The course grounds slowly appear into Anthony’s line of vision as the conversation dies down. The sound of chatter that did come from his or her mouth refilling his ears—excited husbands yelling bets at one another, ladies shaking their heads as so—the look that was etched on their faces would be one that Anthony could appreciate and find humorous.

"I must confess, some of the wagers being placed are rather simplistic in nature." Y/n cuts in through the stillness of their discussion beforehand. A nice conversation starter, but one that would rile many people up. "It appears as though none of these individuals have ever graced a racecourse before! How utterly rash of them to bet upon the favored contender solely because of his popularity."

He can’t help but be taken aback, although once again, her exaggeration was one that could be seen as comical. That is, before he had realized that he himself had also bet upon the favored horse, Nectar, which Anthony assumed the lady was talking about. For a moment, he wonders if her words are pure bullshit, if she was just making conversation with him. It is as if Y/n sees right through him.

“Oh my, do not tell me you have also fallen into the unfortunate trap of betting for Nectar.” Anthony can’t quite place what expression she expresses, but it does not look good. Disappointed, or perhaps pity. 

“Naturally, I betted upon him, it is a sensible bet, and he is a horse of sound character who shall undoubtedly finish with victory this afternoon.” He defends, the tone of his voice sounding rather offended at the plain mention of his unwary wager. Something deep down in him wonders if the lady was indeed right, if he really did not know what he was doing. Again, Anthony could not say he was educated well enough, and admittedly, he had bet upon Nectar due to the favorability of his win. “I have a well placed feeling about him.”

“A feeling?” Y/n’s eyebrow cocks up, the smile on her face now more jovial than polite. “Or is it the choosing of the horse that everyone has chosen? Well, I do suppose that adds to the list of husbands who shall be more than disappointed once the race has concluded.”

“I beg your finest pardon, I have made a strategic bet.” His words are more puncuated than before, suddenly relishing within the first person to truly give him some sort of competition that did not stem from his brothers or family, for that matter. “Nectar is a prized steed. He is quite well bred, highly trained, and, as many other people have shown, well favored.”

Y/n tsks, shaking her head as if she were scolding Anthony as his mother and father had done when he was a young boy. “I must assume you have not considered the quality of the racing course and the weather to assess the true potential? Although these sorts of events are not truly common back in my homeland, I do must say that many of these may just be common sense.”

She knows that her words are stretching the truth, that it wasn’t just common sense, but Y/n must admit that she took delight in having a friendly banter. She climbs up onto one of the wooden bleachers, sitting herself upon the heated seat, with Anthony following quickly behind her. “You see, my cousin had kindly explained to me the expectations of the race, and it is said that Nectar raced well at Doncaster; however, the track conditions were far from the same. A firmer course, if you will. While now, over here…” She pauses to wave her hand at the field of grass in front of her view. “It is much softer, and it is a rather humid day. He will much slowdown in the final leg, giving HighFlyer the much easy victory.”

Anthony scoffs. Foolish? Perhaps. Tinted with truth? Also yes. "Are you merely echoing the words your cousin imparted to you earlier?" He argues as well, Anthony never backed down from a challenge, and this lady was surely challenging him.

“And are you merely saying that I do not know about horse racing because I am a woman?” She tilts her head to look directly at Anthony; the grin that is placed strategically on her face was one that he could not argue with. And he is sure of that when he opens his mouth to bite back, but being blatantly unable to respond with something witty. Oh, that shit-eating smirk that was so easily disguised as a polite smile made Anthony oh-so infuriatingly upset. Upset because she knew what she was doing; upset because, well, he was moderately fond of that smile.

“We shall see then.” 

Famous last words, because well, he is proved to be utterly wrong. The course of disappointed groans that steamed through the crowd, which Anthony would not admit (but was a part of), as HighFlyer flew his way across the finish line were abominably loud. Nectar staggered behind him moments later, but not before the crowd had seen how winded he was by the heat and conditions. 

The lady behind him had laughed in delight, unable to celebrate fully before she must turn towards Anthony to shove it into his face. “I can not say that I have ever beat a viscount before.” Suddenly, all formality that was once there had been gone, destroyed, as if it had never been there in the first place. “I do suppose there is always a first.”

“And a last.” Anthony grumbles under his breath, in hope that Y/n would close off her ears to the harsh criticism. To his luck, she does hear.

“I must concede, you are just like the many men who claim to be gentlemen.” She replies, even though she seemed not to be very upset by the Viscount’s words. If that had been the case, it would have appeared as though Anthony had experienced numerous episodes of frustration—possibly humorous ones, but nonetheless, frustration.. "Unwilling to concede defeat, even when it lies directly at his feet." 

“I am able to concede defeat if the defeat deserves to be conceded.” His words are sharp, even though the smile tugging at his face says different to his own jumble of words. Anthony could not quite help it when he sees her eyes light up with something that he could not describe. “If it dares, look me in the eyes.”

“Ah, is that right, my Lord?” She questions, carrying herself with the confidence that he hadn’t seen in forever. An admirable trait indeed, if Anthony must admit. "Does not defeat gaze directly upon you as HighFlyer is crowned the victor of this afternoon's fine race.”

He sighs. Anthony was never one to be dramatic; he always held himself upright and, in his family's words, rather serious. Still, he had to admit that his gasp was a bit dramatic. “Ah… well.” His words trail off slowly, grimacing at the truth of the lady’s words. “I suppose you are… right this time.” The syllables were uttered slowly, followed by another huff of a breath that he could only feel to himself.

She laughs, that beautiful melody of a laugh. While in many cases, it would be regarded as an unpleasant sound unless it was done so delicately, hers was not delicate, nor was it ungracious. It was as if the notes from every music piece ever composed had all come together to form one masterpiece of a harmony, one that ebbed and flowed in all the right ways. 

“Oh rejoice! What a sound those words are!” Y/n breathes dreamfully. 

The track is far from empty, with many individuals walking over to congratulate the winner, while the others either mourn the losses of their empty wallets, or giggling gleefully over their new-found bundles of heritage. However, the bleachers were starting to thin out, leaving just a select few groups.

There is a sense that weaves through him as he ponders his next move. He could surely just stand himself up, mutter out a respectable goodbye, and leave, yet at the same time, he could not allow himself to just do that. Anthony seemed far better off conversing with this lady than with any other of the ones that he had danced or engaged with in the slightest. The thought made him laugh at his own stupidity, and yet;

"I cannot suppose it would be honorable of me not to inquire if you might attend the Hearts and Flower Ball with me. I trust you have heard of it?" Anthony asks, not just out of politeness but also the small amount of desire he feels for just a beat of a moment. One that felt odd and far too new in his chest, something that he had yet to feel in the weeks that had came, and the weeks yet to come. 

The lady showed a glimpse of astonishment, and Anthony wonders if he had made the right decision upon asking her about it in the first place. "My Lord, are you, perchance, inquiring if you wish to take me on a social outing?" Though even she could hear the tiny quiver that was woven, her voice seemed steady as she spoke.

“I… suppose I am, yes.” He stands with his head gently cocked to the right, extending his hand in consolation. Anthony can feel the regret seeping into his words as they were carefully placed, because God, if she came to deny his request, he was sure he could drop dead on the grass at that given moment. 

“I would love to.” And Anthony would not be able to stop the sigh of relief that washed over him even if he had tried. The tension that creased his forehead, all the way down to his calves, was quickly overridden with a sense of declaration. 

As he wove through the throngs of disassembling guests, waving courteously to the lady that he swore to uncover the mystery of, Anthony finally let himself pry out of dapper smile. For the first time in a while, he felt as if he were winning. Not just a kid-made, pointless game, but something much deeper than he could have ever imagined. Except, this time, he would not allow it to simply just… escape his grasp.

[sickflowerbed]

One thing I hate about Naruto is that Kishimoto wasted so much potential for Sakura, Team Gai, Hyūga clan, Kurenai, Shino, and so many others.

For me, Sakura is the most wasted because she's one of the main characters, yet it didn't seem that way. Compare Sakura and the other mains. She is more like a side character who's a fan favorite like Shikamaru, expect a lot people hate her.

It makes sense to not like Sakura in the beginning. That's what character development is for. Sakura was supposed to go from boy-crazy to the strong independent heroine, and if you read the manga, it does feel that way but, in the end, she ends up with Sasuke now, that would be a problem if she didn't immediately forgive him, she was the one who told Naruto to stop seeking Sasuke because she could tell, that it was pointless and the damage is evident. Kishimoto himself said he regretted Sakura's character, failed, and said that even if he expanded on her it wouldn't raise her popularity. It was too late the damage was done. Kishimoto knew Sakura wasn't popular yet chose moments for Sakura that needed understanding of her badly written character.

All of the team members of Gai had so much potential, Gai & Lee being the best Taijutsu users, Neji being the genius of the Hyūga clan, and Tenten even though we don't see her a lot, in the manga, we don't see the fight between her and Temari, but we see a few scratches on Temari. Of course, we didn't see the official fight, and Tenten still got folded, but it's the thought that counts. It's a shame we never got to see her get better. She could have used her chakra and infused it with her weapons like Asuma does. We never got to see them fight after the Kazekage Ark, and we never saw them fight as a team, a beautiful dysfunctional team.

The Hyūga clan at the start was shown was the strongest clan, and we learned a lot about the clan during the chūnin exams. With the Hyūga clan, I see the loss of potential with using about them. Personally, I'm fine with Hyūga clan being put in the sidelines for the Uchiha clan to shine. But we only had two main characters from Hyūga clan, Hinata, and Neji. Compared to the Uchiha clan, we don't see any other characters aside from fillers. I just wished we got to learn more about the Hyūga clan and their connection to the Ōtsutsuki clan, which we only saw during the last movie.

I always feel bad for Kurenai because she was done dirty. We were told she was one of the greatest genjutsu users, and the only time we see her fight is against the greatest genjutsu user, Itachi Uchiha. Of course, she gonna lose against him, and that's the one time we see her fight apart from fillers. Then she ends up pregnant and boom she's nothing but a mother, which is fine. Most of the mothers in anime are dead, but we are told that Kurenai is a genjutsu specialist and we never got a chance to see that canonically.

Shino has shown potential in the fights we have seen him in, but we never went into depth into Shino how he uses his bugs and gets better at using them. Apparently, the Aburame clan can identify and counter genjutsu because their kikaichū don't have the brain structures for it. I mean it's a shame we didn't see especially since the show later was centered around the Uchiha clan.

Overall, the reason many characters got left out of the series or ignored was that Kishimoto focused everything on Naruto, Sasuke, and popular characters due to the fans.

[lunarriviera]

no big deal just thinking tonight about this bit from sha hai, where during the wang clan's pointless indoctrination li cu sees a photo of a guy he's never seen before and, thanks to being infused with wu xie's blurry weird-ass snake-venom sense-memories, immediately suffers 1) a devastating attack of romantic horny, swiftly followed by 2) THE PUREST DESPAIR IN THE WORLD. but sure npss tell me some more about how dmbj isn't a danmei go on i'll wait no really i have nothing to do and there's absolutely no hurry please just take your time

[seraph-of-sizes]

Broken Homes of Different Sizes pt9

Borrower Lyney and Lynette, Human Freminet (Slight au with borrowers existing, everything else is the same as canon)

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day passed mostly uneventfully after the morning’s commotion. The twins geared up for an outside excursion, debating softly if they should tell Freminet they were going.

“What if- “Lynette shot a glare at her brother.

“If the next words out of your mouth are you still running through hypotheticals, I’m going to go alone.” She hissed. “We’re telling him.”

“Fine.” Lyney finally relented. “Let’s go.”

The twins slowly trekked back through the house, heading towards the sounds of heavy thuds. They exited the walls and stared at the human standing in athleticwear, holding the new claymore and facing down what they knew to be a training meka.

“Freminet!” The human flinched before glancing in their direction, lowering the new claymore.

“Yes?” He dismissed the weapon and disabled the meka with a pulse of Ousia.

“We’re going outside.” Lynette said before Lyney could reply.

“Okay.” Freminet nodded. “Can I watch?”

Lynette glanced at Lyney who sighed. “Fine.” He held up a hand as he heard both of the younger ones get excited. “However! No helping us, unless we’re in danger.”

“Understood.” Freminet nodded. “Where does your exit go?”

“There’s a gap near the flowerbox.” Lyney explained, pointing in its general direction. “It’s usually a two day walk to the garden to the south.”

Freminet blinked and looked to Lynette who nodded in confirmation. “That’s- that sounds really difficult.”

“Which is why we were hoping to get your help getting there.” Lynette hissed as Lyney elbowed her. 

“Okay.” The youngest nodded. “Let me change really quickly.” 

The twins exchanged a look before heading towards their exit. It was one of their lesser used tunnels, so it had more layers of dust than the others. As they trekked through it Lyney suddenly froze, holding up an arm in front of Lynette.

She glanced around him and felt her ears fold back. 

It was a small mechanical spider, seemingly powered down.

Lyney slowly pulled his bow out and infused the arrow with pyro. Lynette tensed as the arrow connected, and they both winced as the arachnid exploded from Overload, meaning it had still been active.

“Look Lyney.” Lynette pulled the singed metal of the spider’s head up. “Property of HotH. Espionage Meka 19b. Diver.” She looked up at Lyney. “Diver? Could they mean- “

“Someone was spying on Freminet, and subsequently us.” Lyney growled, dismissing his bow. “Let’s hurry, Freminet needs to know about this.”

“He probably didn’t sense it, since it didn’t use an Arkhe for power. It seemed to be using an Electro battery of some kind.” Lynette followed her twin quickly to the end of their tunnel, glancing out the peephole of their exit and relaxing as they saw Freminet sitting on the edge of the flowerbed, casting them in shadow. 

Protecting them.

“I was wrong.” Lyney sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll have to apologize.”

They carefully exited the walls into the wider world, staying low to the ground and in Freminet’s shadow until they were right next to him.

They nearly yelped as a hand was placed suddenly in front of them, though glancing up at the human boy, they realized he looked distressed.

“F-Father.” 

“Hello Freminet.” A cold voice of an older woman made the twins shrink further into Freminet’s side, debating on fleeing back into the house. “I see you’re recovering well. I hope that means when you return to your missions tomorrow you won’t bring pointless thoughts along, yes?”

“Of course not Father.” Freminet shook his head, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Good, enjoy your walk to the South Garden.” He just barely held back a flinch and widened eyes at the comment and dipped his head lower as she walked away.

“Oh nononononono…..” He swallowed roughly. “This is bad…..”

Lyney and Lynette watched as Freminet finally acknowledged them, only to quickly realize the sheer panic on his face. 

“What’s wrong? Who was that?” Lyney demanded quickly, glancing in the direction the woman had left in.

“That was Father… she runs the House of the Hearth, it’s the orphanage I grew up in, and still am tied to.” Freminet winced. “My missions, she’s in charge of handing them out. And she- she’s been listening and watching us this whole time I- “

“The spider.” Lyney glanced at Lynette and nodded. “HotH must stand for House of the Hearth.”

“I’m sorry.” They looked up at Freminet only to see him holding back tears. “I didn’t even notice- I’m s-supposed to protect you. I- All I’ve done is chase off the one friend I have and jeopardize my family.”

Lyney bit his lip as he avoided the pointed look Lynette was giving him. “Freminet.”

The blonde human went silent and nodded to show he was listening as he rubbed at his eyes. 

“Look,” Lyney rubbed his neck. “You're trying your best right? Humans and borrowers aren’t supposed to interact at all, remember? We’ve only been on speaking terms for a week, and you’ve already done so much for us. So what if another human knows about us? You will protect us, as best as you can. That’s what you promised, right?”

“R-right.” Freminet slowly nodded. “I just- it’s not a normal person- it’s Father. She’s not fond of us keeping secrets from the House, and I’m not sure if- if she sees borrowers as…” He glanced away guiltily. “As people.”

“What happens if she catches us?” Lynette asked suddenly, making the boys both turn to stare at her.

“Well- uhm…” Freminet shook his head. “I don’t know, but it won’t be pretty. She might kill you- i-in front of me. To teach me a lesson, o-or she may kill me f-for betraying the Hearth for another family…”

Lyney grimaced, not only at the imagery but also this was the most he had heard the human stutter in the entire time they’ve spoken to each other. This ‘Father’ must be terrifying.

“How about this,” He climbed onto Freminet’s offered hand, Lynette joining him silently. “We continue as normal until she makes another move. If it’s malicious, Lynette and I will leave with the Traveler somewhere safe and away from Fontaine. If she seems benign we’ll stay and play it by ear. Should it come about that she is fine with us, and borrowers in general, maybe we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement with her.”

“O-okay.” Freminet nodded, wrapping himself around them protectively. “I-I think that will work.”

“Good.” Lyney sighed, relaxing as all of his fears from the morning events were finally washed away.

“We should probably head towards the garden soon, it’s getting near afternoon light.” Lynette commented lazily.

“Alright.” Freminet carefully moved the twins towards a pocket in his jacket.

As he began the trek towards the Southern Garden, the weight of his found family heavy near his chest in a breast pocket, he failed to notice a small red meka spider retreat back into the flowers.

[dailyanarchistposts]

What can friendship do?

Friendship will be the soil from which a new politics will emerge.

—Ivan Illich[59]

Can friendship be revalued as a radical, transformative form of kinship? We are not sure, but we want to try. Maybe the concept of friendship is already too colonized by liberalism and capitalism. Under neoliberalism, friendship is a banal affair of private preferences: we hang out, we share hobbies, we make small talk. We become friends with those who are already like us, and we keep each other comfortable, rather than becoming different and more capable together. The algorithms of Facebook and other social networks guide us towards the refinement of our profiles, reducing friendship to the click of a button.[60] This neoliberal friend is the alternative to hetero- and homonormative coupling: “just friends” implies a much weaker and insignificant bond than a lover could ever be. Under neoliberal friendship, we don’t have each other’s backs, and our lives aren’t tangled up together. But these insipid tendencies do not mean that friendships are pointless; only that friendship is a terrain of struggle. Empire works to usher its subjects into flimsy relationships where nothing is at stake, and to infuse intimacy with violence and domination. Perhaps friendship can be revalued in an expansive but specific way: friends, chosen family, and other kin, intimately connected in a web of mutual support.

Intersecting currents of disability justice, youth liberation, queer movements, feminism, ecology, anarchism, Indigenous resurgence, and Black liberation have all emphasized the centrality of nurturing strong relationships. In our conversation with Glen Coulthard, he emphasized that joyful militancy can never be an individual choice, because transformation happens in and through relationships:

The first move toward some sort of self-affirmation or resurgence is often registered in a very negative reaction: hate, envy, these sorts of things … This complicates the story a bit. In order to have a kind of joyful militant positionality or whatever, it requires a whole lot of other overwhelming positions on the world. And that is where I think relationships are crucial. I don’t think that this is even possible to come to on your own. Am I going to respond to this oppressive situation through a form of self-destruction, or am I going to try and live with it, or am I going to channel it into more community-building efforts? And I don’t think that’s ever done in a silo. Those are comrades that are working together in order to achieve that position. Those are through the hard conversations ranging from interventions to who-knows-what, just recognizing that some relationships seem to be more empowering than others. So getting to be the joyful militant is complicated. It’s a product of relationships. It’s not the effect of doing relationships well; it’s because we’re already in relationships of solidarity. We’re helping each other out, we’re drawing people out of the negative into more positive relationships. Joyful militants aren’t choosing and saying “oh, I’m going to do this.” It’s because I’m being interpellated into more positive relationships which provide me with different perspectives on the world, that draw me away from what would be entirely acceptable and rational, and that’s despair. How do we not have despair in these situations that we’re in? It’s because relationships are drawing us away from that to the extent that they can, to the extent that they’re successful. A joyful militant is less a product of a will to do so; there’s a work, we’re constantly working on each other. I’m not gonna blame the individual person if they’re in a situation that is clearly miserable.[61]

In these times, feelings of despair, rage, and hatred make sense. Maybe they even indicate a healthy receptivity to what is taking place; a refusal to numb ourselves to the pain and violence of Empire. To shame people for being in touch with all this, or to tell them to pull themselves out of it, simply individualizes suffering. Change comes not from individuals, but from this “constant working on each other,” which we have called ethics and relational freedom. It might entail supporting each other to become more present with despair, guilt, resentment, fear, or grief. It might include channeling anger into attacking Empire, blocking its flows, or breaking its hold, at least in part. Freedom is the space that opens when knee-jerk reactions and stifling habits are suspended. It is the parent learning to trust their kid. It is the teen who flees a violent home with support from friends. It is the scream of refusal that elicits rage and action from others. But the key is that one never does any of this alone, whether a humble gesture causing a subtle shift, or a decisive act catalyzing dramatic change. Freedom, gentleness, and militancy always come from—and feed back into—the web of relationships and affections in which everyone is immersed.

By creating relational webs that reinforce the values we aspire to, relationships can help undo patterns that Empire has ingrained. Loving relationships can be what allow us to face the things we fear about ourselves. They can help undo the ways that we have internalized notions that we are not good enough, not worthy of love, or that we have to put up with things that deplete us and those we care about. Relationships of mutual love and support can enable us to see and feel the toxicity of some of our attachments. They can help us to look at our patterns of addiction or depression without shame. Those we love can be our reasons to stay alive when we aren’t sure that we want to. They can help us leave miserable situations by leaping with us into the unknown. Friendships can be the source of our capacity to take risks and get in the way of violence and exploitation. They can be what make us dangerous and capable of fighting in new ways. This might be something like what “friend” meant to some of our European ancestors before the witch trials: not just someone to hang out with, but someone whose existence is inseparable from one’s own. A relationship crucial to life, worth fighting for.

A persnickety linguist or historian might object that there is no unbroken line of insurgent friendship that lies hidden in history. These critics are right: it is a zigzagging, disjointed line, always being broken and reassembled, a story among other stories, resonant with many other non-European genealogies of relational freedom. But this elusiveness is what makes it precious and powerful: it is people’s capacity to constantly form new complicities amid terror and violence.

[soylent-crocodile]

Komatu (Creature)

(Komatu Profile by Keenan Taylor)

(More kaimere! I won't be converting too much of kaimeran animals; many of them closely resemble their prehistoric or modern counterparts, and it would be kinda pointless to convert em. Outisde the Known World- the focal point of Kaimere and equivalent to the Inner Sea- life gets Weirder, and that's probably where I'll be focusing my attention. The komatu is one such out-of-towner, and one whose design I particularly love. Killer rabbit!)

CR3 TN Medium Animal

Komatu are wolf-sized multituberculates, animals distantly related to most modern mammals who possess powerful front teeth and large, shearing premolars. Komatu are specialists in the group, cursorial predators who have a powerful bite with their shearing, iron-infused teeth and venomous spurs. They hunt in packs, and their powerful bite and simple teamwork lets them take on animals much larger than themselves. 

Despite their ferocious appearance and deadly hunting tactics, komatu are not obligate carnivores- rather, they can subsist on fruits and nuts when such resources are abundant, and scavenge on marrow when times are lean.

Komatu Companions

Starting Statistics: AC: +3 Natural Size: Small Speed: 30ft Attack: Bite (1d8), 2 Kick (1d4 plus poison, Secondary) Ability Scores: Str:15 Dex:20 Con:10 Int: Wis: Cha: Special Qualities: Poison (See below)  4th Level Advancement: Size: Medium Speed: 40ft Attack: Bite (2d6) Ability Scores: Str +4, Dex -2, Con +4 Special Qualities: Armor-Piercing Bite (See below), +2 racial bonus to Sunder

This animal has ears like a rabbit but long legs like a wolf. Its hind legs have long, sharp spurs. Misc- CR3 TN Medium Animal HD4 Init:+8 Senses: Perception: +7 Stats- Str:19(+4) Dex:18(+4) Con:14(+2) Int:2(-4) Wis:14(+2) Cha:10(+0) BAB:+3 Space:5ft Reach:5ft Defense- HP:22(4d8+8) AC:17 (+4 Dex, +3 Natural) Fort:+5 Ref:+7 Will:+3 CMD: 21 Offense- Bite +8(2d6+6) or 2 Kick +5(1d4+4 plus Poison) CMB:+7 (+2 racial bonus to Sunder) Speed:40ft Special Attacks: Crushing Bite Feats- Weapon Focus (Bite), Improved Initiative Skills- Acrobatics +9, Perception +7 Ecology- Environment- Plains and Forests (Temperate) Languages- None Organization- Pack (2-4) Treasure- None Special Abilities-Armor-Piercing Bite (Ex)- A komatu’s iron-enforced bite is strong enough to pierce armor. It ignores object hardness when making a sunder attempt with its bite. Additionally, it does not provoke an attack of opportunity when attempting to sunder this way. Poison (Ex)- Kick-Injury Save: Fort DC12 Effect: 1d2 Str damage, victim is staggered in pain. Frequency: 1/round for 1d6 rounds Cure: 2 consecutive saves.

[octoooo]

Ubuyashiki Family (Magical Slayers ✨)

It’s mostly Kagaya but I mention Amane too.

Ok long story short Kagaya is mansplain manipulate manslaughter. I made him similar to Kyubey from Magica Madoka. In the sense he has good intentions, but very underhanded ways of getting people to join the Corps.

He is Entirely fed up with the (lack of) progress of the Corps. He wouldn’t call all the efforts pointless, however losing several dozen (or hundred?) Hashira and hardly killing any Upper Moons (and no signs of Muzan since Yoriichi’s era) is very much a Net Loss.

He’s tired and ready to end this war by any means necessary, even if it means forcing people into becoming slayers. (The fact this man has foresight just makes his goal a little easier and a little scarier.)

I can make an excellent example of the lengths he’s willing to go with the Tokito twins.

Kagaya did not take kindly when Amane reported that Yuichiro shut down the offer every time. He is not above lighting a fire under them to get them moving, and by fire I mean a demon sent to their house as an “incentive” to join. By showing them what they’re at risk of if they don’t join first.

We all know how it happens in canon: Yuichiro repeatedly denies Amane, weeks later the demon attacks, suddenly Amane returns days(?) later and Muichiro decides “why not” to join the Corps.

This lines up perfectly for my au :D

After the repeated rejections, Kagaya pulls some strings to stage a demon attack. It’s not really staged/fake since the demon does try to take out the twins, but it was planned by Kagaya. As an extra part of the plan, there was supposed to be another slayer to deal with that demon to ensure the twins survived. They’d be scarred, but alive and (hopefully) open to becoming Slayers.

Things didn't go as planned and the assigned Slayer doesn’t make it on time, leaving Muichiro to take things in his own hands after Yuichiro gets attacked. Yuichiro only loses a chunk of his arm, it’s still a lot but not half his arm like canon. He’s able to wrap the wound (and pass out) while Muichiro deals with the demon all night.

Kagaya and Amane actually visit them around noon the next day and happen upon them barely alive. Yuichiro is worse off than his brother and praying for Muichiro to live. Kagaya tells the boys they don’t need the aid of the gods who struck them, he himself will help, and in return they’ll do something (become slayers) for him.

(Kagaya was relieved when this worked. He may be cruel enough to do it but he doesn’t want to kill them. They wouldn’t be useful to him if that happened)

This also means Yuichiro lives.

The bright side is he doesn’t do this with every slayer I guess? He does have an interesting habit of showing up soon after demon attacks to offer the survivor a new life within the Corps. In their freshly traumatized minds all they see is a hand reaching out to help, and not knowing any better they accept.

This is a good time to mention, he is still cursed so he eventually has Amane visit the possible-slayers in his stead, bring them to the estate should they agree to join and uhhh..

Rip their soul out of their body, infuse it into a special brooch, give it back to them & point them in the direction of a cultivator.

anyway don’t worry about that part. Kagaya certainly doesn’t, and he tells the newly-made Magical Slayer not to worry either.

Who cares if you’re basically a zombie now? If your body is injured it’s fine, it’ll just take extra time and magic to regenerate. (Like,,some hours with lots of focus. Maybe just an hour or so for Hashira. Their healing abilities may be good, but they’re not ‘instant regeneration’ good like the 12 kizuki)

He actually doesn’t even tell them they’ve become a zombie. Normally the head of the Corps is supposed to lay down everything that becoming a slayer means, and then the person can make the choice to join or not. Obviously learning you’ll become a zombie is a bit of a turn-off, so Kagaya has just stopped telling his slayers the awful details.

Why do that when it’ll scare them off? It’s more beneficial for him to not say anything and keep them in the dark.

Also I’d like to mention, In canon Kagaya gives respect and gets it in return.

Here though? The Hashiras respect for him is built from fear. Everyone else is able to see, “ohh there’s something wrong with this guy. Better not piss him off.” And try their damn best not to.

Except Sanemi at his first Pillar meeting. 🪦

[perfect-fourth]

“εїз”

[ I have a strong underlying headcanon implied that Jhin may potentially have vastayan lineage somewhere in his bloodline. Probably not very much, but I like to think a lot of his inate magical abilities can be contributed to that. It won't ever be mentioned directly in an RP because I like to follow canon fairly closely when it comes to my interpretations of preexisting characters and I don't want to write myself into divergence if I can help it, but I think the plausibility isn't totally ridiculous for numerous reasons.

1: In his lore, it's mentioned that Kusho speculated it could have been, aside from the possibility of a demon, a vastayan committing the atrocities that Jhin did.

2: If you look in the Zed comics, the magic in which Yevnei's half-vastayan son uses presents in such a way that's nearly identical to how Jhin's does.

3: The entire arc with Yevnei having an affair with her vastayan servant and Zed being able to tell as such because he could sense the magic her son was using was practically pointless, unless it was giving context to something they have yet to address in canon. Now that could be in relation to Zed's beef with Xayah and Rakan, but considering my previous point about Jhin's magic looking near identical to the vastayan kids....

4: The type of magic he uses is energy based. He imbues things with his magic and creates elaborate illusions with them(changing the appearance of something with illusions is not so horribly different than shape-shifting). It's been said by devs(though don't quote me) that when he was young and training with his father, the way in which he infused his blades with his chi magic and weaponized them is very similar to Xayah with her quills.

Tl;dr: Jhin is probably part vastayan change my mind ]

[erabundus]

@onthealcor &&. said... As Beidou walks through Guyun Stone Forest, she notices something odd; The height of the waves are taller than usual. Anyone else would assume that the weather is to blame for this. Beidou, of course, knows that isn’t the case. Her eye immediately scans over the water and she just barely catches sight of something interrupting the flow of the waves. Her eye widens when she realizes that something is traveling along the shore of the island and is disguising itself with the movement of the waves. Without a second thought, she sprints to follow what she is now sure is a sea monster. What is it doing here? Why did it not attack her? Beidou pushes these questions aside and she summons her claymore, ready to strike the moment she sees a window of opportunity.

Now what the captain didn't expect is that the sea monster isn't seeking a target. It already had one. Up ahead, she notices a young man standing near the edge of a cliff that is just a couple of feet taller than the ocean. Ignorant of their situation, she quickly cuts through the land to try to reach him before the monster. “Kid!” She yells, “Watch out!” Catching their attention, she watches as they turn to look at her, thus turning their back to the sea just as the sea serpent emerges out of the water. Beidou roughly pulls the young man behind her to block the monster’s strike with her claymore. Hardly 1/4 of the size and power of Haishan, Beidou successfully blocks the attack and counters it with a strike heavily infused with electro. The serpant lets out a pained cry as it is split in half and dissolves back into the sea.

Heart still racing from the adrenaline, Beidou sighs in relief and stabs her claymore to the ground. “Shit,” She curses as she peers over the edge and sees nothing but calm waters, “Didn’t expect these to be so close to shore. You alright?”

everything  happens  so  quickly,  it's  hard  to  make  much  SENSE  of  it.  he  wasn't  doing  anything  of  particular  note  —  appreciating  the  scenery,  as  he  was  wont  to  do.  idly,  the  wanderer  debated  whether  it  would  be  worth  trying  to  cooking  a  few  fish  for  lunch.  he  had  no  physical  need  for  sustenance,  of  course  —  but  that  didn't  mean  he  was  incapable  of  appreciating  the  experience  of  taste.  on  the  contrary,  fish  were one of the  rare  things  ren  had  a  marked  preference  for —  among  a  veritable  sea ( no pun intended )  of  foods  he  was  otherwise  indifferent  towards.  however,  to  do  so  would  actually  necessitate  going  through  the  trouble  of  catching  a  few  —  and  while  it  may  be  somewhat  easier  with  the  odd  way  creatures  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  seem  unnaturally  drawn  to  his  presence,  taking  advantage  of that trait for  a  pointless  meal  doesn't  sit  right  with  him.  he  isn't  sure  why.

there  is  a  sudden  SHOUT  that  pulls  him  out  of  his  thoughts.  ren  looks  up,  blinking  quizzically  at  the  stranger  —  though  before  he  has  much  of  a  chance  to  react,  she's  already  pulling  him  behind  her.  the  wanderer  has  just  enough  sense  to  turn  around  and  watch  the  exchange  —  some  manner  of  BEAST  slaughtered  with  expertise.  seems  the  harmless  creatures  aren't  the  only  ones  to  take  an  interest  in  him.  he  can  only  imagine  what  kind  of  hassle  would  have  transpired  had  it  managed  to  drag  him  into  the  depths.

❝  ...  you  handled  yourself  well  just  now.  ❞   the  wanderer  mutters.  a  rare  scrap  of  genuine  PRAISE  —  though  it  feels  out  of  place,  considering  the  circumstances.  he's  a  little  too  calm,  a  little  too  casual,  but  his  life  was  never  in  REAL  danger.  (  after  all,  it  isn't  something  he  can  truly  lose.  )  in  any  case,  his  would-be  rescuer  and  the  creature  who  seemingly  perished  by  her  hands  interests  him  far  more  than  anything  as  inconsequential  as  self-preservation.  ❝  don't  worry  about  me.  ❞  ren  still  says,  if  only  to  banish  any  further  inquiries  about  his  safety.  he  knows  humans  tend  to  get  awfully  insistent  —  it's  not  exactly  something  he's  accustomed  to.

❝  more  importantly,  ❞  more  importantly,  ❝  what  was  that?  from  the  sound  of  it,  you're  already  well-acquainted ...  both  in  terms  of  their  habits,  and  how  to  KILL  them ...  ❞

[owl127]

Korrasami one-shot, Morning After (T)

Updating some requests :)

Read on Ao3

It felt like something had died in Asami’s mouth. She blinked awake, groaning in the back of her throat. Her arm prickled with nerves at being asleep on top of it, buzzing with little fires. She tried to shake it off, but barely managed to move without wincing.  Her bedroom window was carelessly left open, allowing infuriating sunlight to enter.

A soft snore alerted Asami that she wasn’t alone. At first, she panicked. Maybe someone broke into the mansion? But if that was the case, there was nothing she could do. No muscle responded to her request; her entire body was thoroughly exhausted and deprived of energy.

What happened? 

What the fuck happened! 

Asami forced a glance at the warm body next to her, and if her throat was in any condition, she would have gasped. Naked, Korra slept in peaceful rest, her mouth open in complete oblivion. Her naked breasts rose and fell with deep breaths above abs that were defined even in sleep. Asami finally managed to sit up somewhat, supporting herself on her elbows, her forearms burning with effort. Korra wasn’t the only one naked; covered in marks of fingers, hands, and teeth, Asami wore nothing under the sheets. 

What the fuck happened! 

Korra opened a sleepy blue eye, and the sight of Asami didn’t startle her. 

"Close the damn window," Korra mumbled, turning and pulling the sheets around herself. 

Asami bit her lips and cleared her throat. She tried to tame her wild bed hair, but knew it would be pointless without a shower. 

"Korra?" Her voice cracked, but images of last night started to come back, and she wasn’t sure if she was proud or scared.

"Yeah?" came the muffled reply, Korra’s muscled back shifting.

"Did we…" Asami didn’t need to ask. She knew. "We had sex, didn’t we?"

Korra didn’t reply. 

"You’re in heat," Asami said almost to herself. Korra’s pheromones, increasing as she awoke, infused the room. Though right now, Korra was a satisfied omega in heat. That could only mean one thing. "We knotted," Asami breathed out, her memories coming back in full force. Korra had been in her house to discuss the preparation for the trip to the South Pole. They had shared a few drinks, and that’s when Korra’s heat came unceremoniously, which led to their current situation.

"Are you on birth control?" Asami flinched at her own tone. She shouldn’t be condescending. 

"No." Korra didn’t sound an ounce as desperate as Asami was starting to feel. Not to mention the other problem of their little predicament. 

"Fuck. Mako!" Asami hissed, both hands on her face. Mako dated Korra; how would they explain that?

"It never really worked between us."

Asami detected the first sign of Korra’s state, a small sniffle following the omega’s phrase. 

"It’s okay." Asami took a deep breath and moved to rest an arm around Korra’s waist. An alien sense of protectiveness overpowered her fears, and she pulled Korra closer. She didn’t fight, letting Asami touch her. "I’ll talk to him."

"I don’t regret it."

Asami couldn’t see Korra’s eyes when she spoke, but hoped she told the truth. 

A small smile tugged on Asami’s lips. She leaned down to kiss Korra’s cheek, happy that she was the alpha she chose to attend her heat. "Me neither," she whispered. 

"Asami?"

"Yeah." She pecked a tanned cheek again.

"Close the damn window."

There were many questions to be answered, and they would have to work on that, but for now, everything was going to be okay. 

[rico-hyuuga]

Soul Eater Bio:

The Shinigami family was considered monstrous as they were both witches and dragons yet being completely neither. Like all witches who possessed an animalistic feature they could shift yet the rarity of this ability made them unique as their reptilian features made them resistant to the pull of magic and a true neutral. Due to their dislike of Arachne, they were often aligned with the forces of Lord Death and his cause siding with defence and not destruction.

Ryukyu Shinigami was the Son of Yourichi Shinigami (dragon witch) and Byakyua Hyuga (multiform weapon) in Oceania often working closely with the Death Scythe Marie. At a young age he found out the truth of his station. Being born of was a weapon and witch made him an outsider often choosing to work alone as not everyone openly approved of witches or those born of them.

The unique aspects of his blood allowed him to access his witch abilities differently than others and that he had abilities not often associated with witches healing. Inheriting a power thought pointless from his father's bloodline as a weapon he is a lightning rod which when coupled with his mother's dragon blood created a lightning dragon.

Power Set:

Offensive:

Electrically based as he is a lightning dragon. Inheriting a lightning rod ability from his father and dragon blood from his mother. Most attacks are associated with a full or partial shifting into dragon form to access more of his primal power.

Expanded :

Lightning Manipulation:

Shifts electricity into varied form for attack.

Lightning Infused reflexes :

In a full shift His eyes shift to red with a large black pupil from their pail grey color which allows his increases visibility.

Sensativity to electricity in the atmosphere allows him to react more easily to threats.

Lightning Breath:

Most dragons breath fire but he can is able to use lightning. It comes out in a large ball in place of a stream. Most often accompanied by two fingers at the side of his mouth.

Lightning Armor:

Ryukyu uses a lightning armor fully active when black as it is consentrated lightning. His skin shifts to scales using the iron and water in his body for inceeased conductivity.

Defensive:

Healing wavelength

Regeneration magic

[freckledboss]

Her gaze immediately darts in the direction of a familiar, yet distorted voice. Void of all emotion. "Jarvis?" No, that can't be... he's... it... it's a suit, like Tony's.

It dawns on her what has happened and she feels as though she should run, but her legs remain immobile. Fear and shock take hold of her. Tears streaming down her cheeks as she realizes there is no hope, no way to break free.

Then a heavy hand rests upon her shoulder, and a name she doesn't let anyone else use escapes from the body of the man she loves.

I made something for you.

Pepper knows what he's referring to, given what he has done to Jarvis, it's obvious. A metal cocoon of horrors awaits her, and she is the only one in this room sane enough to acknowledge the danger. "Tony..." she won't plea, it would do no good, but she can't help in trying to reach the part of him that is human--if any is left. "We can still fix this... I can fix you... I just need more time..." Delaying the inevitable. She senses her own demise nearing.

It's pointless to negotiate. She's speaking with a sentient being, not Tony Stark... it'll never see reason, never want to reverse and be torn apart from its host... the suit believes it is the cure. And has meddled with Tony's mind, transfiguring it, corrupting his thoughts and logic. She's fighting a battle that was doomed from the start.

Eyes close and for a moment she imagines the man infused with the suit, how he used to be, what he looked like, those beautiful dark eyes, the trademark smirk. How he made her smile, made her laugh... made her feel love. Honing in on his essence, she's filled with warmth. When she blinks open, that version of Tony doesn't fade. Stay with me, she begs, and accepts her fate. "Show me..."

@mr-tony-stark

Leaving Jarvis was smart. Having the old man there keeping an eye on him meant he had to be careful about what he did. He couldn't be too obvious about the fact he was going to lock them out. Plus Jarvis knew him. He knew Tony better than anyone. He knew when Tony was behaving erratically.

Tony kept his head down, kept working on the solution to this problem.

THERE IS NO PAIN. THE SUIT IS PROTECTING HIM. THERE IS NO PAIN. THE SUIT IS PROTECTING HIM.

*****

Tony is not in the lab when Pepper returns. The suit of metal while familiar does not contain the genius engineer.

It turns, slow and unnatural. Neither machine like nor human. The angles are wrong and it's far too slow. The helmet tilts and there's a pause. "Ms Potts, when did you get back?"

The voice of Edwin Jarvis still sounds like the man she knew. The suit has not altered his voice box. Not yet. But there is no emotion to the usually very kind and emotive voice.

There's a woosh beside her as the door to the upper lab opens and another suit steps through. The movements are slow and clunky. The liquid that used to be the body of Tony Stark is leaking from all the cracks. "Pepper. You're back," he says, as he slowly approaches her. He puts one gauntleted hand - or maybe it's jut his hand now - on her shoulder. "I made something for you."

@freckledboss

[dmss-blog-salian]

Blog Post - 02

Virtual Reality Isn’t Really Real

It’s 2022 and we all know what Virtual Reality or VR is. So, I’m not going to bother explaining it because it would be utterly pointless. If you happen to be one of those outliers who genuinely has no clue about what I’m referring to, a simple Google search will help.

One of the ongoing debates on VR revolves around just how realistic it all is. There are plenty of great brains, ranging from engineers to philosophers, who argue that VR is the next phase in human evolution. Apparently, simulated realities will replace our physical world and allow us to transcend into newer realms of existence. Could this actually happen?

Well, one influential thinker believes it definitely will. He says it is our destiny and we must not shy away from embracing it. David Chalmers, Professor of Neural Science and Philosophy at the New York University, argues for this in his book, aptly titled ‘Reality+’. Chalmers says that technology will eventually blur the lines between physical and virtual reality, at least as far as sensory perception and feedback are concerned.

According to Chalmers, VR is largely misunderstood or misinterpreted as a “faux reality” and that this perception is completely flawed. To him, VR is no different from actual physical reality. The philosopher’s arguments might make sense at first. In fact, these arguments aren’t even new. They’re largely influenced by Plato’s and Descartes’ ideas on reality – that it could all just be a simulation and we have no way of ever truly knowing. Chalmers takes it one step further and basically implies that VR is just another layer of simulation within the one we’re supposedly already in.

But, there’s a problem – the philosophers are very wrong about his one. However, I’m not going to bother explaining why, especially when I can save time and effort by simply linking you to the facts presented by an actual physicist - https://bigthink.com/thinking/why-the-simulation-hypothesis-is-pseudoscience/

Also, I have no intention of digressing from the actual topic, which is VR isn’t really all that it’s made up to be. Scientific theories and philosophical musings aside, let’s look at the ground reality.

VR is a Failure. Already.

Not too long ago, there was plenty of noise being made about VR but that’s all it turned out to be – just noise. In 2016, the VR industry witnessed a massive infusion of capital; $900 million to be specific. However, just 2 years later, that figure fell all the way down to $280 million.

Facebook’s Oculus planned to sell around a billion headsets in 2019, but ended up selling a measly 300,000.

VR based entertainment venues and cinematic experiences across the globe are either shutting down , downsizing or just shifting to new offerings.

The general opinion on VR isn’t favourable either, with critics calling out the lack of imaginative content.

Of course, a lot of the tepid response to VR can be linked to the technology still being in its early stages or the high costs associated with hardware. Even so, it cannot be denied that VR really isn’t grabbing any attention.

So, what’s the underlying issue here? Well, as far as I’m concerned, it’s reality. Virtual Reality is just that – it’s virtual. It’ll never live up to the real thing. There’s a massive difference between riding an actual roller-coaster and riding a simulated one. VR, especially the kind we have now, is incapable of providing even half the sensory input that a real-world roller-coaster ride can. There are scientific studies that back up my theory.

In a 2015 neuroscientific study involving mice, researchers found that the neurons in the brain weren’t simply firing as much as they normally do when the mice were placed in a VR setting. The brain cells simply weren’t communicating enough information.

Researchers also observed place cells, which are known to aid in navigation. In layman’s terms, these cells basically tell the mice where they are. Outside VR, these cells respond about 80% of the time, allowing the mammal to recognize its location. However, inside VR, this response drops to about 30%, which means the mice pretty much lose track of their location.

This is just one of many studies showing VR’s inability to keep up with a complex organ such as the mammalian brain.

Resident Evil 4 – Engaging, But Not “Real”

One of the few VR titles that managed to do reasonably well was Resident Evil 4. Also,  it’s the only VR game I’ve personally experienced. Credit where credit is due, the game did have several pros. For instance, It was one of the few 1st person shooter games under the VR banner that I really enjoyed. The feedback was great and the shooting was responsive.

However, did I find it engaging in terms of realism? Most definitely not. The movement was glitchy, which isn’t uncommon for VR. The graphics were far from real. In fact, they were quite outdated even by PC or console standards. There is nothing that felt real about this game.

What Does This Mean for My Practice:

VR has a tremendously long way to go in terms of replicating physical reality and even further when it comes to replacing it. In fact, I highly doubt it ever will. So, for now, VR simply remains a novelty. Nothing will come close to providing the experiences that the natural world can.

As a game designer, realism is of interest to me. However, there are several considerations to be made, especially ethical. We still have a long way to go in understanding the effects of VR on human biology. Other than that, the statistics speak for themselves – VR isn’t engaging or remotely “real”. Therefore, it wouldn’t be something I’d factor into my game design/development practice.

Sources:

Big Think. (n.d.). ​Why the simulation hypothesis is pseudoscience. [online] Available at: https://bigthink.com/thinking/why-the-simulation-hypothesis-is-pseudoscience/.

Sample, I. (2022). ‘Virtual reality is genuine reality’ so embrace it, says philosopher. [online] the Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2022/jan/17/virtual-reality-is-genuine-reality-so-embrace-it-says-us-philosopher.

Grijseels, D. (2020). Your brain isn’t the same in virtual reality as it is in the real world. [online] Massive Science. Available at: https://massivesci.com/articles/virtual-reality-vr-real-world-limitations-touch-smell-visual/.

Aghajan, Z. (2014b) Impaired spatial selectivity and intact phase precession in two-dimensional virtual reality. Available at: https://www.nature.com/articles/nn.3884?error=cookies_not_supported&code=8910015f-4199-44af-8875-c7a00c6486ac.

Campbell-Dollaghan, K. (2019). The big problem with virtual reality? It’s almost as boring as real life. [online] Fast Company. Available at: https://www.fastcompany.com/90432358/the-big-problem-with-virtual-reality-its-almost-as-boring-as-real-life.

Actforlibraries.org. (n.d.). Rene Descartes Vision of Reality. [online] Available at: http://www.actforlibraries.org/rene-descartes-vision-of-reality/.

Oculus. (n.d.). Resident Evil 4 on Oculus Quest. [online] Available at: https://www.oculus.com/experiences/quest/2637179839719680/?locale=en_GB [Accessed 10 Jan. 2023].

‌

[torahgalus]

Vayelekh

we are here because we are here because we are here because we are here, chazak v’ematz our love will last far longer than we do, chazak v’ematz I can’t have done enough but I am done,

you will fail and you will return. she knew from the moment she made you that you’d fail and yet, she cast down truth to breathe life into your nostrils, tentative and hopeful.

you will fail and she will fail and you will return to one another, stepping with joy into the fullness of what you might, someday, be.

[coldgoldlazarus]

One thing I think it's interesting that the writing in Arcane grapples with, to no immediately obvious conclusion, (that has led to at least one dubious take I've seen that it has "incoherent politics") is the tension between violence and stagnation.

---

Because on one hand, Arcane shows violence as a force of change, but almost always for the worse. Vander's uprising ends in countless undercity deaths at the hands of the Enforcers, and the orphaning of our girls. The fight with Deckard's crew ends in Milo blaming Powder for losing the loot and either starting or worsening her sense of ostracization.

The fight in episode 3 might have resulted in Vander's rescue if not for Powder's bomb, but honestly? I don't know how far they would have gotten with Shimmer-juiced Deckard still after them, and for all Vi's prowess he completely mopped the floor with her and Vander both, until Vander became the bigger monster. Even in the best case scenario, I don't know that the outcome would have been much different.

Episode 4's Firelight attack ends in most of them dead and Ekko fleeing, and a traumatic episode for Jinx. Episode 5 has the first round against Sevika, which ends with Vi stabbed through the gut literally and emotionally. Episode 6, they manage to escape Silco by dropping a sign on him but not much more than that, and the following battle against the Firelights ends with Vi kidnapped again and Jinx falling deeper into paranoia. Ekko's stand against Jinx in 7 does let Cait and Vi escape, but without the reason they were trying to get back to Piltover in the first place, and both combatants wind up badly wounded and further traumatized, in particular necessitating medical attention for Jinx that results in her infusion with Shimmer.

Another debatable case is Episode 8, which does finally convince Jayce that war isn't the answer and to push to grant Zaun their independence, but it still takes the death of a child worker and the forcible suppression of countless others to even open his eyes in the first place. Plus, I have seen some argue that he swung too far in the opposite direction instead, giving up on the Undercity and being willing to hand it over to Silco despite also seeing the conditions at the refinery he was running, rather than trying to find a more constructive and reconciliatory solution. (I'm not entirely sure I agree with this take, but I still felt it relevant to bring up.)

Hell, my friend has argued that the second fight between Vi and Sevika is the one exception to this rule, but honestly, even if we leave out Jinx's kidnapping her immediately afterwards, the fight on its own was ultimately pointless and unproductive, a waste of energy that had no real impact on the bigger picture by this point while losing Vi one of her gauntlets and leaving her too exhausted to fight back against her third abduction. And of course, the standoff between Cait and Jinx ends in Silco's death, which despite everything else he's done, still just hurts Jinx and leaves her alone once again.

---

On the other side of the equation, there is stagnation. With the undercity, first there was Vander. He did his best to keep things stable and steady, but that also meant that the undercity was trapped in place, under the heel of the Enforcers and under the oppression of Piltover. I love the man, I understand why did what he did, but Silco and Sevika weren't wrong when they criticized him.

But of course, under Silco, things got worse instead of better. He had all his long-term plans and whatnot, but in the meantime Shimmer became like a drug, giving people momentary pleasure or escape but ultimately leaving them even more destitute and their health and bodies in jeopardy to boot, as we saw with all the people in the abyss. In the short term everything became worse, and we'll never even know if his longer-term goals would have led anywhere, since he won't live to enact them and he only even got a shot at declaring independence ahead of his plans because of Jayce's offer.

On the other side of things, there's Heimerdinger and the council. Obviously, Heimerdinger's later opposition to Viktor's Hexcore research wasn't entirely unfounded; though we have yet to see the full consequences of that, knowing that Viktor must eventually become the Machine Herald we see in the game at least gives some idea of what's coming. That being said, while the show has yet to truly delve into the source and implications of the hex-crystals, I think it's safe to say that Heimerdinger's initial complete dismissal of the research was premature, and his later insistence on holding back too much was in direct opposition to Viktor's ideal of helping people who needed it right now. Again, there could and would have been consequences to just handing out hexgems like candy, given everything else already set in motion by that point, but it also denied all of the possible good they could have done.

And then there is the rest of the council; where Heimerdinger is small-c conservative and mostly oblivious to the struggles of the Undercity until his walkabout in Act 3, the rest are Conservative, corrupt, and uncaring about their constituents.

Mel's arguably the best of a bad bunch, but even then, as her mother points out she's still fairly complicit in the state of the undercity. Plus, it's made very clear that the line between her genuine good intentions and feelings for Jayce, and her Noxian upbringing to destabilize and control, is incredibly blurry and there is probably more overlap than she'd like to admit. I love her, but she's like a Game Of Thrones character who wandered into the wrong universe, and that ultimately negatively impacts the direction she leads Jayce and his hextech dream as she pushes him into politics.

And on that note, even as Heimerdinger obstructs the spread of hextech for good purposes out of at least some valid fear of the consequences, the rest of the council clearly pervert it into further fueling their own wealth and greed first and foremost. Once again uncaring at best, actively opposed at worst, to letting it be used or halted in any way that would benefit the lower classes and/or hurt their own bottom line, because either outcome would threaten their feeling of power. Unlike Vander maintaining stability despite the class divide because of the fear of what could go wrong otherwise, they maintain stability for the class divide.

---

So in the end, what is the solution? Violence brings change, but that change either makes things worse or just doesn't matter, with few meaningful benefits in the long run. On the other hand, stability brings stagnation, that either maintains a bad situation or lets it grow even worse over time.

There's a hint of Arcane's theorized answer in Episode 7, with the Firelights' hideout, and Cait's line "this city needs healing", but for better or worse that's all we get for now, with the exploration of how to enact such a thing on a larger scale being too big to get into right now, while Arcane is still in the middle of looking at how everything breaks first. (I feel/hope that is something that will be shifted toward in future seasons, though.)

Because in the end, the question of which is better, between violence or stagnation, is the wrong one to ask. Both have led to the situation being what it is now, both have played their part in shaping these characters into who they are. Both the systemic and personal instances of both have led to Jinx being failed again and again and again despite all the love held for her.

And with her rocket sailing across the city, right into the council's windows, the choice has been made for everyone. Stagnation has gone on too long, made the differences irreconcilable, and cannot last any longer. Violence isn't the answer either, it won't make things better... But it's here now anyway, and all that can be done now is see what happens and face the consequences.