#invincible Barbarian

[grindhousecellar]

[redsnerdden]

News Recap: The Biggest Announcements of SDCC 2024

News Recap: The Biggest Announcements of SDCC 2024 #SDCC #Comics #DCComics #Marvel Marvel #manga #Ultraman #Tokusatsu

[graphicpolicy]

Graphic Policy’s Top Comic Picks this Week!

Graphic Policy’s Top Comic Picks this Week! 15 comics and graphic novels to check out! #comics #comicbooks #graphicnovel

Wednesdays (and Tuesdays) are new comic book day! Each week hundreds of comics are released, and that can be pretty daunting to go over and choose what to buy. That’s where we come in Each week our contributors choose what they can’t wait to read this week or just sounds interesting. In other words, this is what we’re looking forward to and think you should be taking a look at! Find out what…

[mortalfortaxpurposes]

i can be your dog or your bullet but i'm always astray. whenever i think of you i go glacial blue in my chest. traffic twisting up the 405 like candy going sickly sweet and then sour and sickly sweet again. imagine myself in the iron man suit and the only thing i can think: 'deploy loneliness countermeasures'. i'm wile e coyote seconds before he realizes the ground isn't under him. i'm standing in the sky. i am predoom. i am the barbarians, i am the gate. i am the mountain i am the man looking up

in the midst of winter, i found there was, within me, an invincible summer

i dream of you

[actualarcanist]

On Kanjira and Orientalism

During the Natlan debacle that had spilled over to R99, some people have pointed out that brown women like Kaalaa barely have a tan, which suggests a problem with colorism that when considered in the context of how pale Jiu Nianzi is and the lack of POCs in 2.2, is most definitely an ongoing problem with Chinese gacha game, up to and includes R99. However, some have also asserted that the portrayal of Kanjira as illiterate, homeless, and a thief is Orientalism. Upon some thought, I'd like to discuss this idea with more nuance and care.

First, Orientalism goes beyond "you're depicting a culture in a way I dislike". It's about depicting a culture as below the ability to develop like the West does, and thus is doomed to remain barbarians forever. In other words, stereotyping alone is not Orientalism; the insidious Chinese spy is an extremely harmful and sinophobic stereotype, but it is NOT Orientalism, as it suggests that Chinese people DID develop into Western Imperialism - in fact, the whole POINT of the invincible Chinese spy is the idea that they are TOO terrifyingly developed.

So, back to Kanjira. Is she whitewashed? Absolutely. Is she having a pet snake a gross stereotype? 100%. Is her existence Orientalism? I don't think so, because we also have Kaalaa who IS developed along the line of Westernized academia, and Shamane showing that maybe the old ways aren't as barbaric as Westerners would like to think. The idea that we can't show an Indian child as illiterate and homeless also gets dangerously close to sanitize representations at the expense of the very cultures and peoples you want to represent. If we can't talk about poverty in Global South, we can't talk about how to address it.

There is a very fine line between policing harmful stereotypes to represent people with respect...and flat out censoring and sanitizing people's culture and experiences for the sake of your own feelings and respectability in front of Westerners. I'm not saying Kanjira or the people who criticize her portrayal is necessary one way or another, because it depends highly on the context; what I AM begging you to do, though, is giving more thought about labeling something as a stereotype, before you start saying shit like "Well martial art is a Chinese stereotype, no one should show a Chinese person doing martial arts in media EVER AGAIN". Don't commit literally the exact same kinda cultural genocide you claim to oppose, because the fact that you're doing it from the direction of leftism and wokeness instead Fascism and bigotry makes no difference to your victims.

[90-ghost]

here is a poem by polish poet Zbigniew Herbert

Report From The Besieged City

Too old to carry arms and fight like the others - they graciously gave me the inferior role of chronicler I record - I don't know for whom - the history of the siege I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began two hundred years ago in December in September perhaps yesterday at dawn  everyone here suffers from a loss of the sense of time all we have left is the place the attachment to the place we still rule over the ruins of temples spectres of gardens and houses if we lose the ruins nothing will be left I write as I can in the rhythm of interminable weeks monday: empty storehouses a rat became the unit of currency tuesday: the mayor murdered by unknown assailants wednesday: negotiations for a cease-fire the enemy has imprisoned our messengers  we don't know where they are held that is the place of torture  thursday: after a stormy meeting a majority of voices rejected  the motion of the spice merchants for unconditional surrender  friday: the beginning of the plague saturday: our invincible defender N.N. committed suicide sunday: no more water we drove back an attack at the eastern gate called the Gate of the Alliance all of this is monotonous I know it can't move anyone I avoid any commentary I keep a tight hold on my emotions I write about the facts  only they it seems are appreciated in foreign markets  yet with a certain pride I would like to inform the world that thanks to the war we have raised a new species of children our children don’t like fairy tales they play at killing awake and asleep they dream of soup of bread and bones just like dogs and cats in the evening I like to wander near the outposts of the city along the frontier of our uncertain freedom. I look at the swarms of soldiers below their lights I listen to the noise of drums barbarian shrieks truly it is inconceivable the City is still defending itself the siege has lasted a long time the enemies must take turns nothing unites them except the desire for our extermination Goths the Tartars Swedes troops of the Emperor regiments of the Transfiguration  who can count them  the colours of their banners change like the forest on the horizon from delicate bird's yellow in spring through green through red to winter's black and so in the evening released from facts I can think  about distant ancient matters for example our friends beyond the sea I know they sincerely sympathize they send us flour lard sacks of comfort and good advice they don’t even know their fathers betrayed us our former allies at the time of the second Apocalypse their sons are blameless they deserve our gratitude therefore we are grateful they have not experienced a siege as long as eternity those struck by misfortune are always alone the defenders of the Dalai Lama the Kurds the Afghan mountaineers  now as I write these words the advocates of conciliation have won the upper hand over the party of inflexibles a normal hesitation of moods fate still hangs in the balance cemeteries grow larger the number of defenders is smaller yet the defence continues it will continue to the end and if the City falls but a single man escapes he will carry the City within himself on the roads of exile he will be the City we look in the face of hunger the face of fire face of death worst of all - the face of betrayal and only our dreams have not been humiliated

❤️❤️

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Okay so we all know what kind of man könig is by now… a big killing machine who enjoys the color of blood BUT what if he was in a situation where HE is the one dying??? out in the field, far far away from his Engel. Would he be afraid? Would he cry? Or would he smile perhaps?

HES EATING AT MY BRAIN I WANNA THROW HIM OUT A WINDOW!!!!

Omg you let König in through the window after I specifically told you to let him in? No…!

CW: Angst??! Crying, dying and broken König. (The therapy bill I’m sending you guys is gonna be fat) But he is only dying he's not going to *DIE* these are only his thoughts when he thinks it's over!!! His team will rescue him!

Oh my goodness if he was dying :'(

How could this happen? He was supposed to be invincible…!

König would lie there in a minor shock. He would be annoyed first, like super annoyed, that somebody bested him. Somebody fucking got him. That’s humiliating.

Then his brain would consider it an honor: this is a warrior’s death, just the way he always wanted. He would act so tough at first, imagine himself as this lonesome, mythical barbarian, dying amidst his slain enemies, a dark, fallen hero who will soon be claimed by a sweet goddess of death. All his pain will finally be gone. That's a bonus, right?

It's not a big deal. It's not.

He laughs and cries at the same time, trembles a little because even if he’s a behemoth who won’t stop after you just shot him, his body can still go into a shock when he’s finally forced to calm down. (Pain and blood give König berserker abilities)

The reality starts to sink in, and König whispers, just a couple of times, for Mama. Then he calls for his Engel, choking on his own blood as he does it, as he remembers all the good times they had (only a bullet to the head or lungs would stop this man for good.)

He shouldn't be crying... but there he is, finally shedding some searing hot tears. They burn his cheeks when they fall, it feels like they have been locked inside forever, like there’s been a volcano inside him that finally gets to erupt. But it’s not a heavy stream of lava that's being released: it just feels agonizing and violent, like everything else in his life. The jerks that go through his body only push more blood up his throat.

He remembers the last time he saw Engel and how sad he felt when he had to rip himself off of her warm, sweet, sleeping form. He should've returned to the bed one more time to give her a good, fond squeeze.

Will Engel mourn him…? Will she come to the funeral and bring flowers to his grave?

Nevermind the dark, magnificent goddess. At the moment of his death, König would repeat the names of the two remarkable women in his life who, perhaps, loved him…

Mama and Engel ❤️

... And then his team would come to the rescue, one of the lady soldiers looks just like his angel (he's hallucinating) and he passes out just before they tell him he will live to fight another day ❤️❤️❤️

[jeannereames]

Conversely, if you and Alexander talked only once, what do you think he’d ask you? I guess he wouldn’t be surprised to find out there are professors studying his life and reign more than two thousand years after his death - but what do you think he would ask you about the history of, well, himself?

Interesting question. I think it would be difficult for him to know what TO ask. While it’s possible to forecast a little way into the future (science-fiction authors do it all the time), the further into the future we look, the further off-base we get. Unsurprisingly. Things come out of left field that even the most foresighted can’t anticipate.

For Alexander, I do think he realized that he died too soon, and his empire wasn’t established enough yet. Ergo, one of his first questions would likely be, “So, how fast did it all fall apart and who came out on top?”

He might even be weirdly happy to hear the answer. (Not long.) Why? It proved they couldn’t hold it together without him—which underscores his own uniqueness. I realize that’s self-centered on his part, but don’t all of us, deep down, kinda wanna know we’re irreplaceable? How much more for somebody raised in a society where kleos (glory) and timē (public recognition) were so important? An older king might have been more concerned with his “legacy” after ruling for decades. But Alexander was still young. He didn’t have much of a legacy yet to protect, other than his remarkable success. That nobody else could match it would, I think, have pleased him.

Would he have asked about his family? Probably. But I think it’d be part of the larger question of what happened next and who came out on top.

He’d LOVE that Rome named him “the Great.” In his own day, he was known as “the invincible” anikētos; “the Great” is Roman.

Yet I don’t think he’d have seen Rome coming. I expect he’d predict Carthage as the dominant Western power. Remember that, in his day, Rome wasn’t especially notable. This was still the Early Republic. Plebians were relatively new into the Senate, Rome was nowhere near in control of all the peninsula and just starting the shift from a Greek- and Etruscan-style phalanx to what would become the legion.

Reputedly, Alexander of Epiros (before his death in 331) resented Alexander of Macedon’s early successes, claiming he (Alexander of Epiros) was fighting real men in Italy while his nephew “waged a war against women” (e.g, barbarians). That’s a typical Western-centric view.* At the time, however, Persia had the most powerful army in the world. Whatever Livy claimed, had Alexander brought the Macedonian military machine west instead of east, he’d have mowed through Italy, just like in Greece, Thrace, and Illyria. It took another hundred-plus years of Roman military development to result in the wins at Magnesia or Cenoscephalae. Italy/Rome at that point was just no match for Macedon, much less Macedon under Alexander’s command.

But hoo-boy, he’d want to know about the legion, even if he wouldn’t know enough to ask directly. He might ask about future military innovations.

Also…he’d be PISSED that more people in the West today recognize the name of Julius Caesar than Alexander of Macedon. 😉 “Why didn’t Shakespeare write a play about ME???” But he’d be tickled there are more stories about him in more varied world cultures than there are about Caesar (true fact). IOW, Caesar may be more famous in the West, but Alexander is more famous in the larger world (thanks to the Alexander Romance).

Last, he might ask me about my world. If we assume he knew I was 2300+ years in his future, I think he’d naturally want to know what life is like in my time. I mean, wouldn’t we ask what life would be like 2300 years in our future? He’d probably be fascinated by the changes, although perhaps not the ones we’d anticipate.

Long ago, on a drive from Kentucky back to Nebraska, my son and I had a fun conversation about a fictional interview between Alexander and Stephen Colbert (Ian’s favorite talking-head person at the time). Stephen Colbert would ask Alexander what were the three most surprising things he’d found about the future? Would it be medical breakthroughs? Computers? The rise of democratic states? Flying through the air (and into space)? Etc.

Nope. The three things I think would surprise him the most are:

1. Near-instantaneous speed of communication 2. Easy availability of information (even if it may be wrong) 3. Changes in the importance of religion (at least in some places)

It was such an interesting conversation, I turned it into what’s now the opening Power-point in my World History I class! Ha.

————

* This supposed claim of Alexander of Epiros may not even be real. It’s recorded by Roman Cheerleader Livy, where of course the West is more powerful than the weak, decadent Oriental East.

[gvfgal]

1. Homeward Bound

Barbarian. Biker!Jake

18+ minors evaporate!!!

A/n: As promised, here’s chapter one! I’m doing things a little different this time, telling the story more from Jake’s point of view than the readers. It works well for this story, and I think you guys will enjoy the way it plays out. Also, no disrespect to Genoa, NV! Never been, I’m sure it’s a lovely place, but for the sake of my story, it’s a shithole.

Content Warnings: Drinking & Smoking (constant theme throughout), language, mentions of death, Jake and reader are a couple of sluts but we love them for it, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (please don’t be like them), fingering (f rec.), dirty talk, Not really a warning, but I use the words tavern/ bar/ and or “Riley’s” interchangeably, they’re all the same place.

Word Count: 6.2k

Jake always loved the open road. It was the only time he truly felt like himself, the only time he felt truly invincible. The last time he traveled down Route 95, however, he was headed in the opposite direction, escaping the very life he was about to throw himself back into.

After Ace’s visit and a night of drinking, Jake finally settled on the decision to return home. He put most of his belonging into storage, only packing what would fit on the back of his bike. As far as his job, he wasn’t too worried. He had a sit down with Hank a couple days before he left and explained the situation. “You know you always have a job should you decide to come back,” Hank told him. Jake turned in his shop keys, and that was the end of that.

On the night before his departure, he tracked Kira down at some seedy motel and told her he’d be leaving town, to which she began to cry, begging him not to leave. In all honestly, it made him want to vacate even more.

The next morning, before the sun even had a chance to rise, Jake was on the road, homeward bound.

The desert stretched out before him, a vast expansion of rugged beauty underneath the unforgiving sun. The roar of his motorcycle engine echoed through the emptiness, punctuating the silence that came with the open road. As he ventured deeper into the heart of Nevada, the land seemed to hold it’s breath, anticipation simmering in the air. Dust clouds billowed in his wake as he leaned into the twists and turns, feeling as if he were becoming one with the machine.

Finally, after a couple more hours of riding, the small wooden sign came into view, signaling his arrival.

‘Welcome to Genoa. Nevada’s oldest town.’

The outskirts of the tiny dot on the map loomed into view, it’s familiar silhouette etched against the sky. He slowed his pace as he entered, taking in the scenery that was almost identical to the way it was when he left. His town, a decaying relic in the desert, clung stubbornly to it’s dilapidated existence. The streets stretched out before him like veins choked with neglect, lined with crumbling facades and and fading signs that once promised prosperity. Shuttered business stood as silent sentinels, bearing witness to the ebb and flow that was Genoa.

Nature, too, had woven it’s touch, with wildflowers defiantly blooming in forgotten corners. A gentle reminder to Jake that even in death, life finds a way. The sight filled him with a mixture of disgust and an odd kind of loyalty. Despite it’s decay it held the indelible marks of his roots, memories were etched deep within it’s neglected corners. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, Genoa was still home, a bitter reminder of the life he’d never be able to escape.

Using only his memory, Jake continued through town in search of Ace’s house. Just when he thought he was lost, the row of bikes lined up outside of an old rundown manufactured home proved his memory wasn’t so rusty after all. He parked near the end of the line before making his way up to the front door. He could already hear the rambunctious group of men far before he was on the porch, and he figured knocking would be no use. Besides, it was only Ace’s house, and Jake knew he was welcomed in as if he lived there himself, which he did, at one point.

When he swung the door open, the buzz of conversation came to an abrupt halt, and every head in the room turned to look at him, staring as if they’d seen a ghost.

Ace was the last to look at him, and when he did, a large grin spread across his face.

“Jake! You made it!”

The rest of the men erupted into cheers, glad to see their beloved Barbarian prince return.

“Jake, you remember Steeljaw right?” Ace bellowed as he gave him a shove forward into the crowd.

Jake smiled, “how could I forget? It’s good to see you man.”

Steeljaw was never very affectionate, and the life altering incident he encountered did little to change that, if anything, it had an opposite effect. But when it came to Jake, there was always a soft spot. He tolerated most people, but Jake, he actually liked. He could never figure out why, and in the end, he never tried to.

Jake expected a rough handshake or a punch in the shoulder, but was pleasantly caught off guard when Steeljaw scooped him up into a hug.

“It’s good to have you back.”

Ace went around reintroducing Jake to the guys, each of them in turn giving Jake hugs and handshakes and ‘welcome backs’. Hellhound. Snakebite. Madcap. Django. Renegade. And so many more. With each of these men, Jake carried a special memory. He loved each and every one of them, that was something he couldn’t deny. There were his family, other than his mom (another interesting story for another day), the Barbarians were all that Jake had. They all seemed to really miss him, and he missed all of them too.

Well, almost all of them.

“And of course, Nicky No Name.”

Ace pushed the tall slender guy forward, mouthing a ‘play nice’ to Jake behind his back. Jake’s disdain for Nicky went far beyond the fact that he was an overall awful person. For him, Nicky’s face was a reminder of the loss of the one person who’s presence he missed the most in that room, and it wasn’t Rex.

Jake gave Nicky a tight lipped smile, “Triple N, we meet again.” He knew how much he hated that nickname, which is why it felt that much better to say it.

Nicky narrowed his eyes at Jake with a scowl, before correcting it almost immediately. “Jake Kiszka. Prince of the Barbarians.”

Nicky also knew how much Jake hated that nickname.

Ace knew that was just about as polite as the two could get, so he quickly dismissed Nicky and returned his attention to Jake.

“I’m surprised you actually came.”

“You and me both.”

“How was the ride?”

Jake shrugged, “long.”

Ace chuckled, knowing good and well that anytime Jake was on the road, he had a blast. But he was never one to admit those kinds of things out loud, so he left it be.

“What do ya say we head over to your old man’s house? Get that out the way now?”

Dread crept into Jake’s veins, entwining with grief, as he realized that returning to his childhood home stirred a peculiar turmoil within him. Overshadowing even the weight of the impending funeral. He swallowed it down though, if only momentarily, to respond to Ace.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

The men hopped on their bikes and began making the short ride down to the old trailer park that was once Jake’s kingdom. Cactus Creek Village, quite the kingdom to be sure. The chipped paint on the entry sign proof of just how much the place had to offer.

Images of the past flicked through his minds eye as he inched his way through. The laughter that once echoed through the trees, riding his bike with his friends, pretending they were motorcycles until the street lights came on. All the joys of his youthful innocence. But beneath the surface of those fond recollections lay layers of pain, unsealed wounds, and fractured connections. Those feeling were all the more solidified as the house came into view.

A house whose walls were etched with both solace and strife. As he put his bike in park out front, it felt like a collision of two worlds, grief and nostalgia intertwining in an intricate dance.

“Look the same?” Ace asked as he got off his bike and came to stand with Jake.

He squinted his eyes at the structure, noticing that most of the damage that he left behind was still there. “Too much.”

His eyes grazed the lackluster trailer park with a neutral expression. Scenes of his complicated childhood played like mirages on front of him, sublime memories that still haunted his dreams. He wondered for a moment if coming back there was a bad idea.

Several feet away, the door of a trailer swung open, hitting the wall so hard that the sound sent a stray cat scampering from underneath the disheveled porch. You stepped outside, an already burning cigarette hanging between your plump lips with disinterest. Those lips, so perfectly pink and inviting, stole the air from Jake’s lungs. His mind flashed briefly to the things that mouth could possibly do behind closed doors.

But he wasn’t able to focus on that for long before his eyes began to take in your attire (or the lack there of). A wife beater, clearly with no bra underneath. Your nipples stood erect against the thin fabric. Your breasts were in no way large, but just big enough for a handful, and that was good enough for him. Your bottom half was no more modest, a pair of gray cotton bikini underwear, nothing more. The curve of your hips was only slight, so slight, some may not have even counted it as a curve at all. But whatever the hell it was, Jake liked it, really liked it.

A pair of brown cowboy boots covered you from the mid calf, down. The scuffed leather on the toes led him to believe that you wore them often.

You were unaware of their presence at first, making your way down the stairs mindlessly before your eyes finally locked with Jake’s.

Yours were red and glossy, not from tears, that much was certain. Jake was sure that you’d realize your exposure and rush back inside to hide yourself like any normal girl would do. But he was quick to find out you were anything but normal.

You blinked once at him, expressionless in your affliction, and raised you fingers to your lips to remove the cigarette. Your nails were chipped midnight blue, hands appearing like fragile petals of a flower. You ashed the cigarette onto the ground, eyed never straying from his.

Admittedly, your stare was a bit intimidating, heavy and laden with something so intriguing it was as if you were hypnotizing him where he stood. You wedged the cigarette back into your mouth before tearing your eyes from him, returning to the task you set out to accomplish.

“Who’s that?” Jake asked, never removing his stare from where you were. He watched as you bent over to pick up a sun bleached watering can, surprised at the size of your ass. He hadn’t expected you to be carrying something like that behind you.

Ace shuffled up beside him and gave you a good once over, “that’s Riley’s girl. When he got sick, she came down here, kinda popped up out of nowhere, to take care of him till he passed. Never left after that.”

Jake turned and looked at him with a furrowed brow, “Riley’s dead?”

Ace laughed, “you really have been gone a long time, haven’t you? He’s been gone about two years now. Pancreatic cancer. He fought long and hard,” he nodded his head in your direction, “she took over the tavern too.”

Jake’s eyes found you again as you lazily poured water onto the foliage outside of the trailer. For it to be Nevada, you did a great job of keeping up your garden.

“She’s a bit quiet, doesn’t really talk to us much, but she’s a sweet girl.” He retrieved a key from his pocket and placed it in Jake’s hand, “I gotta get back to the guys before they burn my damn house down. Take all the time you need.” He hopped back on his bike and his engine roared to life, “we’re all hanging at the tavern later, if you wanna stop by.”

Jake nodded and watched as he backed out of the driveway and started down the road. Once he was out of sight, he turned back to watch you water your plants, his eyes tracking every dip and curve of your body.

When you noticed him staring again, you stood straight and faced him, raising your middle finger.

He smirked. Spitfire. Giving his dad’s house one more look, he decided that wasn’t a hill he was ready to conquer, not yet anyway. Instead, there was a wide open Nevada desert calling his name, and that was a call Jake could never stray away from. Tucking the key away in his jeans, Jake mounted his bike and cranked it to life. He pulled into the street until he was parallel with your trailer. You watched as a mischievous grin appeared on his face, his gloved hand raising to shoot you the finger right back. His bike screeched as he pulled off at a ridiculous speed, kicking up dirt behind him.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him drive away. Using context clues, you figured he was your neighbor Rex’s son. You’d heard stories about him from the gang hanging around the bar. The Barbarian Prince, they’d joke. You’d spent plenty of time with Rex, and although he was always pleasant with you, you knew any son of his had to be trouble.

But you were a magnet for trouble. It’s allure and consequences were woven into the very fabric of your existence. Trouble had been your steadfast companion, the architect of your tumultuous journey.

Trouble, is what landed you in Genoa in the first place.

But when it came to the mysterious beloved Barbarian, trouble never looked so good.

Most of the gang was already at Riley’s by the time Jake arrived. He’d spent his afternoon riding through the winding outskirts of Genoa, allowing himself some much needed alone time before the next few days ahead. Pulling his tasseled hair into a messy low bun, Jake nudged the door open with his boot and stood at the threshold to scan the bar.

He quickly spotted Ace’s large frame seated at one of the barstools, but just as quickly, he noticed you. Your hair tied in a messy bun on the top of your head as you hustled behind the bar, mixing up drinks for the waiting Barbarians scattered about the space. A group of them huddled around the pool table drank and talked loudly, demanding their voices to be heard over the loud rock music playing from the old fashioned jukebox positioned in the corner. Jake gave them a quick assessment before returning his attention back to you.

You were wearing a muscle tank, if he had to guess, the same one from earlier, only this time you decided to put a bra on. Good Girl. The hot pink straps peaked from underneath the tank ever so slightly, he liked that even more. With a smirk plastered on his face, Jake made his way through the dimly lit bar, perching himself on the stool beside Ace and patting him on the shoulder, his eyes staying trained on you. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too busy fulfilling another drink order for a waiting couple. There was a thin sheen of sweat covering your body that, mixed with the contrastingly bright lights of the neon signs behind the bar, made you appear like an angel on earth. Glowing like a beacon, a beacon calling directly to Jake.

Before even glancing at him, you were talking. “What can I get for you?”

Jake chuckled at your obliviousness as he leaned forward onto the bar.

“Whiskey. Neat, please.”

When you finally turned to look at him, realization setting in, your face dropped, but Jake’s never faltered. He was a lot more handsome up close, something you hadn’t expected, but still relished in.

“Well, if it isn’t my Peeping Tom neighbor,” you smirked, wiping your hands on the towel that hung at your hip.

Your voice was like like honey. Smooth, rich, and pleasing to Jake’s ears. The very sound of it melded with the music filling the room made the hairs on his arms stand upright. It was as if every word you spoke was uttered with the intention of seduction, and it was working.

Your right eyebrow peaked on your face as you waited for his reply, arms crossing over your chest.

“If I remember correctly, you’re the one that came out of the house half naked,” he teased, his eyes boring directly into yours.

“You didn’t have to stare,” you quipped right back.

Jake shrugged, “how could I not?”

His response stunned you into silence, but not in a negative way. Being the object of his gaze, as good looking as he was, was enticing.

You’d never let him know that, though. So instead, you rolled your eyes and turned to pluck at the screen behind you.

“You want your tab opened, or closed?”

Jake was staring daggers into your back, still wearing that sly grin. His eyes traveled down to your ass, being hugged tightly by the black denim shorts you wore. They traveled further, all the way down your exposed legs and back up.

“Open…”

Ace turned his attention to the two of you, patting Jake on the shoulder, “no need, first rounds on me, sunshine.”

You smiled sweetly at Ace before pulling a glass down to prepare Jake’s drink.

“So, you’re Rex’s kid?” you asked.

Jake nodded, “the one and only. I think.”

You chuckled at his statement, knowing that when it came to Barbarians, that was probably a real concern. “Sorry to hear about his passing.”

He gave off another shrug as he retrieved his usual duo, a cigarette and his lighter, “wish I could say the same.”

This comment may have been off putting to others, but to you it was more than relatable.

You finished pouring his drink and slid it across the counter on a thin coaster.

“Well, he’ll be missed around here, anyway,” you glanced around the bar before focusing on Jake’s face, “but it seems like everyone’s glad to have you back.”

Jake’s attention was focused on getting his cigarette lit, and once it was, he looked back at you, noticing the way you were drinking in his features,his lips curled up around it.

“Glad to be back.”

He took his glass and raised it towards you, a silent confirmation that you were the reason for his satisfaction. You held each other’s gaze for what felt like forever, both grinning, yet silently assessing the other.

“Why do I feel like you’re nothing but trouble?” you questioned Jake, a hint of teasing in your voice.

Jake freed his mouth and leaned into you, and you instinctively did the same, your faces now hovering inches away from each other. The smell of tobacco on his breath was so intoxicating you could’ve kissed him in that very moment.

“Why do I feel the same about you?”

For a brief moment, you though he actually was about to kiss you, your mouths so close, all it took was one small movement to initiate. But just before it got to that point, Jake pulled away, standing from his seat and crossing over the the jukebox.

You watched as he flipped through the catalog, taking a sip of his drink in the process. Finally, Lick it Up by Kiss began playing loudly as Jake increased the volume. Turning back to you with that same smirk from before. He began nodding his head in an animated fashion, causing a real laugh to bubble up from inside of you. Something that didn’t happen often.

“He really is Rex’s boy!” Ace shouted over the music, calling out to everyone in the bar.

He raised his glass as everyone cheered, following suit. And once again, Jake looked to you, raising both his eyebrows and his glass.

You shook your head with a smile, “trouble.”

It was well after two am by the time you got off. Most of the gang had stayed right until close, and with only you and your coworker Angela left by the end of the night, closing took a lot longer than usual. And to make matters worse, you were now stranded at the gas station. Your old clunker had only managed to make it two miles up the road before it sputtered out, and now, it refused to start.

The cold desert air chilled your bones as you did your best to inspect under the hood, but with little to no knowledge about cars, you weren’t hopeful.

“Raggedy piece of shit,” you cursed as you kicked at one of the tires. You pulled your windbreaker tighter around your body and leaned back against the car, debating on whether or not you could conquer the mile and a half walk back home.

But just as the idea started becoming the best option, the sound of a motorcycle could be heard coming up the road. You watched as the driver pulled into the gas station, knowing well that it had to be a Barbarian, they were the only gang in the area. But what you didn’t expect was for that Barbarian to be Jake, still smiling as he pulled up beside you.

“You don’t look too happy.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but his smile was beginning to grow on you. So much so, that you could ignore his smart ass comment.

“My car won’t start.”

Jake turned off his bike and climbed off, not saying a word as he leaned down to look into the engine compartment.

You took in the way the muscles of his arms flexed as he gripped tightly on the sides of the car. The thought of him holding you that way sending a separate chill down your spine

After a few moments of inspection, he faced you again, just as you diverted your eyes to something else.

“Where do you want me to start?”

Your dropped your head into the palm of your hand, “fuck.”

Jake chuckled, “it’s alright. I might be able to fix it,” he sounded hopeful, though by just looking at it, he' knew it might be beyond saving, “have to get it towed first, though.”

You cursed again, you didn’t have the money for that.

“But for the time being, I can give you a ride. After all, we are neighbors.”

You glanced backup at his smirking face, wondering if he ever wore any other expression, “on your bike?”

He nodded, “what, you scared or something?”

Quite frankly, you couldn’t have been further from. Excited? A little turned on? Yes. Scared? Never.

“What’s your name?” you asked, deciding to ignore his statement. He took a step towards you and extended his hand, “I’m Jake. And you are?” You shook his hand softly and grinned mischievously, “wouldn’t you like to know?”

You removed your hand and climbed onto his bike, making sure to arch your back more than necessary.

That image of you on his bike that way was the first time Jake actually believed here might be a god. You were all too regal, even in your most natural state, he’d even dare to say perfect. And something so perfect had to be meticulously constructed by an all knowing power. He didn’t even care if he knew your name.

“I gotta run inside. Stay pretty.”

He left without another word, dissapearing into the store and leaving you out in the cold air. You waited patiently for him to return, and when he did, he climbed on in front of you. His already familiar scent filled your nostrils, and without though, you moved your body closer to his. Once he brought the bike to life you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his torso, bringing you a comfort that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Will you be alright without a helmet?” he asked, shouting over the roaring engine.

“It’s only a mile and a half. I’ll be fine.”

He put the bike in drive, patting your thigh twice, “well then, hang on.”

He pulled out into the street slowly and began making his way down the long stretch of road. Releasing your hair from its bun, you leaned into Jake’s ear, “you can’t make this thing go any faster?” You were aware that he was doing the gentlemanly thing and taking it easy, but feeling the rush of the wind and the vibration of the road traveling through your body had you craving more. The freeing feeling that speeding down the road on the back of a bike was enticing, but so was the danger of it. That feeling of gambling life itself for a few seconds of exhilaration, it turned you on, the tense energy radiating off of you and onto Jake.

You couldn’t see it, but he smirked, reving up the engine as he began picking up speed, causing your adrenaline to spike. Once the deteriorating buildings that lined the street started becoming a blur, you released you hold on Jake’s waist and spread you arms out wide, tilting your head back to greet the night sky. The wind whipped your hair across your face, blinding you every few seconds, but that didnt deter you one bit.

A genuine laugh escaped Jake’s lips, “you’re a wild one,” he exclaimed, his voice barely audible against the roaring wind.

Cactus Creek was still when you and Jake returned, the loud hum of his engine feeling out of place in the quiet night. Jake could’ve easily parked in his own driveway and let you make the 50 feet walk back to your place, but instead, he parked right outside your front door, a little too close to your flowers for your liking. After helping you off, the two of you stood face to face. The thrill of the ride had yet to wear off, and all those feelings you felt while in the back of his bike were still very much alive inside of you.

“You seemed to have enjoyed yourself,” Jake chuckled as he removed his own hair from its bun. Never in your life had you seen such tangled locks look so good, you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it, preferably with his head between your legs.

A small grin appeared on your face as you took a step closer to him, “what can I say? I love a good ride.” He pulled you close as soon as you were in arms reach, letting one of his hands snake around your hip, just shy of your ass. His opposite hand found your hair, pulling back on it gently until you were looking him in the eyes.

“Is that right?”

Your lips ghosted against his as you spoke, “who doesn’t?”

Jake liked that answer. If the twitching of his cock that was pressed against your leg didn’t give it away, the look on his face sure did. His mouth dropped to press firm kisses along your collarbone. Your eyes fell closed when his tongue appeared to lick a long strip up your neck. He continued until his mouth was hovering by your ear.

“Something’s telling me you’re no good for me,” he whispered, nipping at your earlobe to punctuate, “should probably stay away. But somehow that only makes me want you more.”

You pulled away to look him in the eye, shaking your head solemnly, “you don’t want me, Jake. I’m not the kind worth loving.”

He took a mental note of that statement, replaying it over and over in his head fo months to come. But for the time being, it remained tucked away. He smirked at you, “who said anything about falling in love?”

The look of lust in his eyes and the grip he still had on your waist was the nail in the coffin. With both hands, you took ahold of his fac and crashed your lips into his, nothing but primal desire behind it. He kissed you back immediately, his tongue delving into your mouth like it were seeking out shelter in the rain. You all but climbed him, tangling you legs around him as he made his way up the steps. You never locked your door, there was nothing in that place worth stealing, and your hand searched blindly behind you to open the door.

Once inside, Jake quickly cleared your entryway table— its contents clambering to the ground as you pushed the door shut. He sat you down roughly as his mouth returned to your neck, much less graceful than the first time. You pulled and tugged at his jacket until it slid off his body, leaving him in a plain black t shirt. Your finger clawed at it, pulling it up so that you could feel more of his skin against yours.

“Still not gonna tell me your name?” he huffed as his hands began groping your chest.

You sighed heavily, “nope.”

Jake chuckled, “that’s fine,” he squeezed your chest a little tighter, causing you to hiss, “I’ll jut have to come up with my own name for you then.

He licked into your open mouth slowly, making sure to really taste you as he did so. “Hmmm. How about Cherry?”

“Cherry?” you gulped, “why?”

Jake smiled at your moment of innocence, the way your eyes pleaded for an answer made both his cock and his heart ache.

“Cause you taste just as sweet as one.”

Before his compliment had a chance to make it’s way to your heart, you yanked him closer by the collar of his shirt, “are you gonna stand here and talk all night, or are you gonna fuck me?”

Jake’s smile fell, a carnal look taking over his face. His rough fingers began undoing the button on your shorts, not even taking a moment to pull them down before they were sliding into your wetness. An almost silent gasp left your mouth as your head fell back against the mirror, threatening to send it crashing down.

“Yeah, Cherry? Is that pretty little pussy ready to fuck?”

You nodded, once again clawing at his back as his fingers continued to skate about.

He removed his hand from your shorts and brought the digits up to his lips, slipping them into his mouth. Yeah, Cherry would do just fine.

“Let’s not keep her waiting then. I’m dying to meet her.” He hoisted you off the table and began walking towards the only door that could’ve lead to a bedroom. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you began making quick work of your clothes. Jake doing the same. He was undressed before you were, and your eyes immediately zeroed in on the myriad of scars that adorned his body.

Each of those scars held a story, some twisted, god awful story that probably came with a mental scar to match. You couldn’t help but wonder what kinds of things he had seen, lived. You had a moment of clarity then, of how similar the two of you were. Both marred by scars of the past, yet still somehow standing.

Something you’d noticed from the very beginning was how tired Jake’s eyes were. Though he smiled often, you could tell there was a heavy weight on his shoulders. And seeing him there, in all his raw naked glory, you wanted nothing more than to take some of that weight off, if only momentarily.

With enough time to recover from the putty like state he had you in earlier, you finished undressing yourself and pushed Jake down onto the bed with only a finger.

He grinned up at you, enjoying where this was headed. You slowly made your way up the bed, eyes locked on his as your fingers began grazing along his skin. You were so occupied with taking in the rest of him, you hadn’t even taken a moment to look at his cock. But just as you suspected, it was as perfect as the rest of him. Radiating a cherry shade of red from the tip, like it was made just for you.

Straddling his waist, you raked your fingers through your untamed hair, Jake’s hands came up to massage your ass, “you did say you loved a good ride, huh?”

One of your hands began stroking along him gently, collecting the pre cum from his tip to ease your movements. The goofy grin he was wearing faltered as he let out a shaky breath.

Raising your hips, you peered down your nose at him, “don't worry. I’ll hang on.”

You sank down on him in one fluid motion, both of you moaning loudly at the way you fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Jake’s fingers dug into your skin, and you welcomed the pain, throwing your head back in ecstasy as he stirred inside of you. When he loosened his grip, you took that as an invitation to begin moving, and using his chest for leverage, you began grinding your hips against him. He allowed you to do so for awhile, laying his bed back out the pillow as he watched you move against him eagerly. His hands felt their way up your body, one of them snaking up into your hair while the other came up to your mouth. You welcomed his fingers, sucking them past your lips as you clawed at his exposed chest. When Jake noticed you tracing on of the scars on his abdomen he looked up at you, searching for disappointment in your eyes. But there was none, not even an inch.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered to him as you raised you hips to slide off of him, just to the tip, before sinking back down with a gasp.

Jake was never one to take compliments well, but he could tell you meant it. He grabbed ahold of your hips again and began thrusting upwards into you, speeding up the tempo at which you were moving. It was obvious that this wasn’t something that was meant to go on all night long. Both of you were clearly in need of blowing off steam, and by the way both of your bodies were reacting, you knew the end was coming soon.

He sent a harsh slap to the side of your thigh, his teeth bared as he tried to maintain his composure. “You take dick so fucking good,” he complimented as he watched the way your tits bounced from the force of the movement.

Your head lulled forward to smile at him, “I know.”

Jake returned the gesture, a soft groan escaping his mouth, “I’m gonna cum, Cherry.”

“Me too, Jake,” you wined, “don’t stop.”

He sought out your clit, rubbing slow circles against it as he continued to pound up into you. “Yeah. I bet you make the prettiest faces when you cum. I can’t wait to see.”

Your hips began faltering, and Jake could feel you clenching around him, causing a deep growl to grumble up from inside of him.

“There it is. I feel it, Cherry.”

“Cumming,” you sighed, “I’m cumming.” With one final bounce on his cock, you were cumming hard and loud. You were never one to be ashamed of being loud during sex, it made it feel that much better. And Jake enjoyed it thurrougly. The way your brows were knitted together, head thrown back, nails carving angry marks into his chest beside his scars. And your moans, to Jake, they were the sweetest sounds to ever come out of Genoa.

He fucked you through to your end before wrenching you off of him and pumping along his shaft. You were laid out beneath him, both of you watching each other as he continued jerking himself.

Jake’s eyes grew dark, “you want it, don’t you? In that sweet little mouth?”

Your jaw fell open, inviting him to do exactly what it was you were both think. The sight of it sent Jake’s release crashing into him.

“Such a nasty thing, aren’t you Cherry? Oh fuck… fuckkkk.”

Hot spurts of his release began dripping down into your mouth, some of it landing on your breasts and cheeks, but you caught as much of it as you could.

His legs were shaking by the time he was empty, and he collapsed back down onto the bed beside you, fighting to catch his breath. His hand searched for his discarded t-shirt, bringing it to wipe away the remains of the mess he left on your skin. You smiled up at him as he did so, “thank you.”

He took a moment to look at you, really look at you. Your eyes held a certain softness that captured his attention, yet, there was something lurking behind that gentle facade, something that hinted at a hidden depth. It was as if there were an entire secret world behind your eyes, one that Jake coould’t decipher.

There was no denying the allure you possessed, your beauty and your aura were nothing short of captivating. But he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that behind that beauty lay a trail of buried skeletons.

Getting reacquainted with the Barbarians was trouble enough, a path filled with danger and uncertainty. And intertwining himself with you seemed to add another layer of complexity. Despite all of that, though, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you like a moth to a flame. There was a magnetic pull, a force that defied reason and lured him further into your orbit.

But he’d leave that alone for now. He had to burry his father tomorrow, and that was a burden of its own.

He lowered himself back onto the bed, pulling the sheet up over you body as you slowly began drifting off to sleep, hoping that he could do the same.

2. Our Old Friend, Death

Taglist: @myownparadise96 @writingcold @jordie-gvf

[nitpickrider]

Another in the endless list of Conan's reminders. No matter how good he is, how strong, how fast, how cunning, he is not invincible. And all it takes is ONE lucky shot. Conan the Barbarian 20

[homebrew-a-la-traumaverse]

Inspired by this post by @real-fire-emblem-takes, but in reverse.

(Detailed descriptions under the cut!)

(Only 12 poll options, no vanilla extract today :V)

Archer: Rarely get the spotlight, given that they aren't meant to frontline, but they have their moments - 3-13 can attest to that. Fliers are especially vulnerable to their arrows. Usually has the choice of upgrading to the mounted Bow Knight class, which gives it high mobility and swords for self-defense, or the Sniper class, to volley enemies with critical hits.

Barbarian: Fighter, Pirate, and similar classes are lumped with this as well - all being axe-wielding units whose low defenses are offset by massive HP. This is further emphasized by them promoting to the Berserker class, which ramps up their crit rate as well as giving additional skills that play into getting hit, such as Wrath (increases crit rate at low HP), Defiant Strength (increases damage dealt at low HP), or Counter (reflects physical damage taken).

Cavalier: All-around units with good mobility, they're usually reliable choices to invest into. Promotion options include the Great Knight class, which boasts mastery over every physical weapon, or the Paladin class, which gains powerful anti-magic abilities.

Cleric: The classic uwu squishy healer that you need to protect. Some variants also get horses or even flying mounts. Their magic staves provide powerful utility, from healing to teleportation to damage mitigation. They usually get over the whole pacifist thing when they promote, whether it's to the Sage (which gains the ability to blow enemies up with magic), Bishop (which gains the ability to smite monsters with lasers), or War Cleric (which just starts hitting enemies with axes).

Dancer/Songstress/etc: One of the more unique support classes. Combat abilities usually range from minimal to nonexistent, but that rarely matters when you can let your strongest unit take twice as many turns, sometimes with other benefits like healing or stat buffs as well. A special class, most games only ever let you have one. Generally don't promote.

Dark Mage: More durable than your usual mage, but lack the raw offensive power - sometimes due to their combat stats being lower, sometimes just because dark magic comes with significant penalties. Dark Magic has many unique spells, such as Nosferatu (leeches the lifeforce of enemies to heal you), Mire (blasts enemies safely from across the map), Luna (ignores enemy resistance), Eclipse (instantly halves the target's HP)... There's a lot of interesting options for them. Promotion options include Sorcerer, which goes all in on combat abilities, Summoner, which summons phantoms to fight for you, and Dark Knight, which ditches dark magic for some reason to ride a horse and hit things with swords.

Knights... Heavily armored units, but with low speed and mobility. Usually get ignored in favor of flashy, fast units, but there's something to be said about being an invincible wall. Watch out for mages, though. And armorslayers. And poison, and stat debuffers, and true damage, and turn-based reinforcements... Anyways - their promotions include the Great Knight (detailed above) as well as the General, which gets even more defense as well as skills like Rally Defense to bolster that even further.

Mage: The glass cannon of magic builds. High speed and offensive abilities, but unlikely to take many hits, especially on the physical side. Promotion options include the Sage, which further bolsters their magic and gives them access to staves, Dark Knight (though they don't lose dark magic in this case because they dont have dark magic to begin with), and Mage Knight (which I'm pretty sure is also basically the same thing? Magic sword guy with a horse.)

Mercenary/Myrmidion: Two flavors of "person with sword." The Mercanry tends to be more durable and hard-hitting, while the Myrmidon has greater speed and skill for critical hits. The Mercenary can expand ther repertoire on promotion to Warrior, which also gains bows, or Hero, which gains axes; either way, they gain powerful options at range. Meanwhile, Mymidons promote to Swordmasters, with peerless speed and crit rate, or Assassins, who can instantly kill enemies. Occasionally.

Pegasus Knight: Highly mobile due to the horse with the wings, and also boast high speed; however, their strength and durability leave much to be desired. Obviously an inspiration for my own Skywatcher class (though it's not the only one, as it also draws from Fate's Rider class). A favorite choice for speedrunners due to their mobility, being able to outrun just about everything while also flying over obstacles. Some games have them change out their steed on promotion, such as to Griffon Rider, Wyvern Knight, or Dark Flier, while others further empower the pegasus knight as a Falcoknight or Seraph Knight. Also notably are the main source of Galeforce and therefore may or may not have caused an entire generation of eugenics simulators.

Shifter: This is where I'm lumping together all the transformation classes. Laguz, Manaketes, Taguel, Kitsune, Wolfskins, all of them go here. Usually gain massive stat boosts on transformation, but are extremely vulnerable when untransformed. These are also an inspiration for one of my own classes, being the Shifter.

Theif: 90% of the time, they're shady dudes who steal your loot and run away. Weirdly enough, they often lose this ability when they promote - usually to an assassin capable of instantly killing foes, but some games have other options like the Trickster, which also gets support magics like the Cleric.

There are other "base" classes, but most of them are either unique special classes or can be folded into one of the above options.

[ultrameganicolaokay]

Conan the Barbarian #9 by Jim Zub, Roberto de la Torre and Dean White. Cover by Mike Deodato. Variant covers by (2) E.M. Gist, (3) de la Torre and (4) Chris Moreno. Out in March.

"BEYOND FLESH. BEYOND DEATH. BEYOND TIME. Conan has traveled far and seen much in his legendary journeys, but nothing he has experienced thus far can prepare him for a quest to lands beyond to answer dark riddles of the past. Unexpected allies await, fierce enemies loom, and the strange power of the Black Stone stirs in THE AGE UNCONQUERED! The triumphant new era of Conan continues in this a brand-new tale of brutal heroic adventure from acclaimed creators Jim Zub (Avengers, Dungeons & Dragons) and Rob de la Torre (Invincible Iron Man, King-Size Conan)!"

[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

My man, Hafgrim Ahlberg Heimdallsson, king of Ulla, lord of Valhalla, immortal and invincible watchman god of the Nine Realms.

I play him in D&D, and he's currently a lv18 Zealot Barbarian. He's taken on a tiny dumbass Kobold pirate named Spurg, as his son throughout the entire campaign.

Bonus meme of Hafgrim and how much he loves Spurg!

[celestiall0tus]

Let's finish where we left off, the ox/bull 🐂

One Ox/Bull of Determination coming up

Not officially introduced, but Ivan will be Iron Bull in Miraculous AU. This was definitely amongst the hardest to figure out, but powers were determined. His lesser power is hope inducement while his greater power is a form of invincibility. With his greater power, he is empowered and becomes an unstoppable force, charging ahead. He can still be hurt, but it takes more than a little pain to stop him once he gets going. Something like a D&D barbarian's rage, but without the anger part.

Activation Phrases

Transformation: "Stompp, Charge Ahead"

Lesser Power: Hope

Greater Power: Stampede

And now we come to Chloe in Salvation. She will be starting as a holder, which her power will be hope inducement and her name will be Crimson. As an avatar, she'll gain hope empowerment, indomitable will, and the Stampede power. With Avatar form, she gains self-resurrection and lifeless continuation, allowed her body to keep moving before she brings herself back.

Activation Phrases

Transformation: "Stompp, Charge Ahead" (as a holder) None/Innate (Avatar)

Power: Hope (as a holder) None/Innate (Avatar)

The latest addition to the Ox list, Ondine as Ira from Absolution. Her power will be an interesting one. Her passive power is overwhelming strength that allows her to overcome anything through sheer brute force. Her main power will take from the show and be invincibility.

Activation Phrases

Transformation: "Stompp, Charge Ahead"

Power: Adamant

Presenting Kagami Tsurugi in All That Remained as Senketsu (if you know, you know). After reviewing the powers of the other oxen, Kagami's power will be a blend of Iron Bull's Stampeded and Ira's passive. When activated, Senketsu becomes an unstoppable force whose strength grows to allow her to overcome anything and cannot be stopped while active.

Activation Phrases

Transformation: "Stompp, Charge Ahead"

Power: Stampede

Ivan returns as the Ox heir in Court of Miracles. He is Lowborn and his power(s) include:

Brute Force

[gglowymushroom]

(Almost) all of the player characters for a DnD 5e campaign I've been running based on the webcomic, [Fortuna] and the Cosmosdex (despite not being caught up at all). I say almost as Yersin, the Axeni, unfortunately perished to an untimely dragon breath and I have yet to draw the Hohun he has been replaced with. In order,

Gaz'rik "The Ultra Invincible", Terra Vayarasa, Path of the Zealot Barbarian

Dogma, Putley, Order Cleric

Q-913 "Qupie", Q-class Notail, Soulknife Rogue (+ Unnamed Skarv, also technically a soulknife rogue)

Yersin Pesata, Viral Axeni, Circle of Spores Druid

H-473 "HATE", H-class Notail-Oomn hybrid, College of Whispers Bard

[mayamidnightmelody]

The Titans of Action Cinema: Chuck Norris, Steven Seagal, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Sylvester Stallone

Action cinema has seen a myriad of stars, but few have had the enduring impact and larger-than-life personas of Chuck Norris, Steven Seagal, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Sylvester Stallone. These icons not only redefined the genre but also left an indelible mark on popular culture. Each brought their unique style, charisma, and physical prowess to the screen, captivating audiences worldwide. Let's delve into the legacies of these titans of action cinema.

Chuck Norris: The Martial Arts Master

Chuck Norris is more than just an action star; he is a legend whose name is synonymous with toughness. Born on March 10, 1940, in Ryan, Oklahoma, Norris began his career in martial arts, winning numerous championships and founding his own schools. His transition to cinema came with the 1972 film "Way of the Dragon," where he famously fought Bruce Lee.

Norris's stoic demeanor and martial arts expertise became his trademarks. Movies like "Good Guys Wear Black" (1978) and "Lone Wolf McQuade" (1983) solidified his status, but it was the "Missing in Action" series (1984-1988) and "Walker, Texas Ranger" (1993-2001) TV show that truly made him a household name. Norris's roles often depicted him as the silent, invincible hero, a persona that has been immortalized in countless internet memes and "Chuck Norris facts."

Steven Seagal: The Aikido Enforcer

Steven Seagal, born April 10, 1952, in Lansing, Michigan, brought a unique blend of aikido to Hollywood, a martial art known for its fluidity and use of an opponent's energy against them. Seagal's imposing presence and real-life martial arts credentials set him apart in the action genre.

Seagal's breakout role came with "Above the Law" (1988), where he played Nico Toscani, a cop with a knack for brutal hand-to-hand combat. His subsequent films, including "Hard to Kill" (1990), "Marked for Death" (1990), and "Under Siege" (1992), showcased his no-nonsense approach to justice and solidified his reputation as an action star. Despite controversies and a varied career, Seagal remains a significant figure in martial arts cinema.

Arnold Schwarzenegger: The Austrian Oak

Arnold Schwarzenegger, born July 30, 1947, in Thal, Austria, is arguably the most recognizable action star in history. Before conquering Hollywood, Schwarzenegger was a bodybuilding champion, winning Mr. Olympia seven times. His herculean physique and undeniable charisma made him a natural fit for action films.

Schwarzenegger's breakthrough came with "Conan the Barbarian" (1982), but it was "The Terminator" (1984) that catapulted him to superstardom. His roles in "Predator" (1987), "Total Recall" (1990), and "True Lies" (1994) further cemented his status as an action icon. Beyond his film career, Schwarzenegger's tenure as the Governor of California (2003-2011) showcased his versatility and appeal. His catchphrases, particularly "I'll be back," have become ingrained in pop culture.

Sylvester Stallone: The Underdog Champion

Sylvester Stallone, born July 6, 1946, in New York City, is the epitome of the underdog story, both on and off the screen. Stallone wrote and starred in "Rocky" (1976), a film about a small-time boxer who gets a shot at the world heavyweight title. "Rocky" was a critical and commercial success, winning three Academy Awards, including Best Picture, and solidifying Stallone's place in Hollywood.

Stallone's other iconic role came with "First Blood" (1982), introducing the world to John Rambo, a Vietnam War veteran with unparalleled survival skills. The "Rambo" series and subsequent "Rocky" sequels established Stallone as a leading action star. His ability to portray characters with a mix of vulnerability and relentless determination resonated with audiences. Films like "Cobra" (1986), "Cliffhanger" (1993), and "The Expendables" series (2010-2014) further showcased his range and staying power.

Legacy and Influence

Chuck Norris, Steven Seagal, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Sylvester Stallone have each contributed uniquely to the action genre, shaping its evolution and leaving a legacy that continues to inspire new generations of filmmakers and actors. Their films are not just action-packed spectacles but cultural touchstones that reflect the changing tastes and values of their times.

These stars' dedication to their craft, coupled with their distinct personalities and physical capabilities, ensured their lasting impact on the world of cinema. Whether it's Norris's martial arts prowess, Seagal's aikido techniques, Schwarzenegger's bodybuilding background, or Stallone's underdog spirit, each has left an indelible mark on the landscape of action films.