#its not like we can Do anything about it we just gotta steal the hammer and GO. and they do and later he starts SINGING??!!? shes a BARD

[pricemarshfield]

AUGH. i cant find the text for the book im talking about online. posting so i remember in the morning to take a screenshot and go batshit about it here

[astaroth1357]

How Often They Worry about MC…

For those who don’t know, I have a little dog named Charlie and she is a large portion of my world. There's no need to be alarmed, my dog is fine, but there are days where I hold her and all I can think about is how much I worry about her health down the line… I suppose we often do that for the people we love, particularly the ones who may not last as long as we will. Take that as inspiration if you'd like.

Lucifer 

Near constantly. 

If you tracked his blood pressure on a grid, you'd see it start to continuously rise about when he decided they were worth having in his life.

Lucifer is the eldest sibling to a whole crew of brothers so he's no stranger to worry. He worried about his brothers when they were young, he worried about them after the Fall, and he still worries about them now (even if he's less open about it).

But a part of him knows that his brothers can handle their own, at least to varying degrees. The MC, though? He's far less sure…

They've proven rather resilient, but also headstrong and reckless. Neither of which are good things to be in a place this dangerous...

If Lucifer isn't careful, he can catch himself staring at a wall or window just wondering where they are and if they're doing alright… If he called them every time he had a passing worry, their inbox would be full by the end each week.

He holds himself back because he doesn't have the time to constantly protect them, but that doesn't stop him from sending a text once or twice a day. They better respond or he'll start (secretly) panicking.

Mammon

He forgets their mortality from time to time, but every time he remembers it hits like a ton of bricks…

Mammon is a pretty "in-the-moment" person. He doesn't spend a lot of time dwelling on the future, but whenever he does the thought of losing MC always comes back to him again and again.

Like. It's gotta happen eventually, right? They're human, humans die, hell they don't even live that long to start with!

The MC can always tell when Mammon's getting worried because he'll get uncharacteristically quiet and pace around or hover by them…

Every little injury or strenuous task will suddenly seem like too much to him as well. 

If they need to carry some boxes, he'll carry them all.

If they have to jog to class, he's carrying them. 

If they so much as get a papercut, he'll have a heart attack.

It's not very hard to get Mammon out of these funks - he really does want them to reassure him that they're okay - but he's never going to get fully over it…

Not until he can steal whatever top secret immortality formula Solomon must have used anyway… He'll get it off that bastard eventually.

Leviathan

Thinks about it so often he has to actively try not to just to get any peace…

He dodges his fears for MC like a protagonist dodges lasting consequences. Every time he feels one creeping up, he's always got a distraction waiting…

"Hey where's MC at? I hope they didn't fall into the riv-OH HEY CHECK OUT THIS NEW GAME!!"

"What are they doing over there…? That looks hard, what if they bre-WAIT DIDN'T MY FAVORITE VOICE ACTOR JUST RELEASE A NEW PODCAST???"

"What if the MC dies tomorrow and they leave me all alo-DEVIL FIGHT 200! YOU CAN'T BEAT DEVIL FIGHT 200, LET’S BREAK MY HIGH SCORE!!"

Cut him some slack, his psyche cannot handle the idea of losing them on top of everything else he grapples with every day.

If, on the rare occasion, he does let himself fall down that rabbit hole he becomes extra clingy and practically begs MC not to leave his room… like ever. He'd bubble wrap them if he could.

Anytime they get really hurt or really sick he refuses to leave their side even if it means he has to awkwardly sit on the floor. He just needs to be able to glance at them every so often to be sure they're alive… Still breathing?? Phew…

Satan

He worries, preps, rationalizes, then worries again…

For Satan, knowledge is power and every scrap of information he can learn about MC is more power he can use to keep them safe and healthy.

Yes, he will want their medical history. Yes, he's going to need a list of prescriptions. Family members too. And no, you do not get a choice.

He'll read up on as many things as he can - pawn medical journals off of witches and get magical alternatives from Solomon.

The cycle usually goes: 

1. He's lying awake at night because he just heard about some terrible bacteria that makes human's skin peel off or something.

2. He does all the research he can on this bacteria, its treatment options, best prevention methods, etc.

3. Gets right about to break out the rubber booties for MC to wear around, then realizes they have a very slim chance of catching said bacteria since it's only native to incredibly remote parts of Indonesia.

4. Feels instant relief that MC will probably not catch flesh-eating bacteria and can finally sleep again…

5. Hears of some other human medical horror from Solomon and starts to worry…

It's a vicious cycle indeed… But at least he's getting a lot of medical training. Soon enough he'll be the Devildom's version of a human vet (which I guess is just a doctor, come to think of it. 🤔)

Asmodeus 

Lives so "here-and-now" that he doesn't remember often, but when he does it's always heartbreaking…

Asmo usually tries to worry about things as little as possible. It’s bad for the skin, you know? But when the MC is involved, all of that goes out the window.

Like how a delicate blossom eventually wilts in the snow, the MC is bound to leave them in time… Usually there's supposed to be something beautiful in that kind of tragedy, but perhaps he's just too close to them to find any romance in it.

The thought of their death gives him breakouts and anytime they get hurt or sick he's the first brother to offer them comfort. Every time.

Because he doesn't feel like he's as physically strong as he brothers, he tries to make up for it by minding their health in other ways. Anything to keep his MC strong and beautiful as always!

If Asmo is in a worrying mood, then he may also compensate by trying to take the MC out to a party or some fun event. Why sit around worrying by himself when he could be making memories with them now, right?

Beelzebub

It comes in waves, mostly at night.

When your thoughts throughout the day are mostly, "I wish I wasn't so hungry," it doesn't afford you a lot of time to think about much else.

In a way, it's a good thing since he experiences a lot less stress. But those worries are still there and they mostly plague his dreams…

Beel doesn’t feel hungry when he's sleeping, so a lot of his fears will make themselves known overnight. An injured or dying MC is often in his rotation of nightmares though, of course, he'd rather it not be…

After having one of these dreams, his first instinct is to always make sure the MC is okay. If they're with him, he'll hug them and check their heartbeat. If they're somewhere else, he'll go to them or shoot a text.

He has woken up without realizing his nightmare was all a dream though, and usually it's up to Belphie or MC themselves to console him while he cries… It's so heartbreaking, sweet boy just puts a lot of pressure on himself to be sure they're safe…

When he worries, it's like they're the most beautiful and expensive China set in a room full of bulls and hammers. If he could tape them to his side, he probably would. He gets scared for them that much…

Belphegor 

More scared about it than anyone else in the House.

Despite his calm demeanor, Belphie is truly afraid of losing his loved ones beneath the surface… He's already lost one of his most dear siblings before, going through that again may just break him.

Unfortunately, he's also felt just how fragile the MC is firsthand... He's not even the strongest of his brothers, yet he was able to snuff them out so easily… Who's to say someone else won't try?

Like Beel, MC's death is a recurring nightmare for him but he can usually shake off his dreams fairly well, if not change them mid-sleep. More scary is when something is actually wrong with them or they're not feeling well.

Belphie always sets his inner laziness aside for the MC when he can. If they get sick, he'll usually be right along with his family to take care of them - even if he has to skip school to do so (not that he cares about class anyway).

When he's worrying about them, he tries to play it off at first, but soon enough they'll notice him acting overly concerned and losing sleep… Best to calm him down before he starts getting cranky.

[galahadwilder]

Kitty Missed the Message, Pt. 2

Part 1

*

"There's thousands of people named 'Adrien' in Paris!" Plagg protests from Adrien's inside shirt pocket. "There's no way she meant you."

"And how many of those Adriens does Ladybug know?" Adrien mumbles, gazing down at the lid on his coffee cup. He sits—no, lies—against the front steps of the school, too tired to even bother trying to keep his back straight. Between the thrill of his new love life and the confusion of her dropping his name, he didn't get any sleep last night; he's allowed to slump a little.

"A lot of them, probably!" Plagg says. "She saves lots of people."

"And how many people has she given a Miraculous to?" Adrien says, gritting his teeth as he contemplates his coffee, then throwing back a sip fast enough to miss his tongue entirely—though it still scalds the back of his throat. He gasps, hacking.

He hates the taste of coffee. Even the burning is better.

"Um," Plagg says, squirming. "Ten?"

"Exactly," Adrien rasps, trying to clear his throat. "They can't all be Adrien. And since she knows Chloé..."

Plagg snuggles grumpily into his chest. "Sometimes I wish you weren't so smart," the Kwami says.

"Too bad you're stuck with me," Adrien says, looking down the street contemplatively. Where is Nino? He's fairly certain he impressed on him the urgency of his dilemma.

As bad as Adrien.

"Am I really that oblivious?" he mutters to himself.

"Well you didn't notice me," Nino says from behind him.

Adrien shrieks, leaping from the steps and stumbling onto the sidewalk, all hackles and hissing. He can feel the pressure on his scalp as his hair tries to stand on end, only to get dragged down by its own weight.

"Dude?" Nino says, shock written across his face.

Adrien looks down at where he flung his coffee, trying to straighten himself without meeting Nino's eyes and hiding the blush burning up his cheeks. "I'm fine!" he yelps. Being a cat is so embarrassing sometimes.

"Dude!" Nino cackles. "I haven't seen you jump like that since the thing with the cucumber!"

"I thought I asked you not to bring that up again," Adrien grumbles, splashing the sole of his foot in his spilled coffee and spreading it dejectedly across the sidewalk. A waste of good caffeine, that is.

Nino’s mouth twists. “Ah. Right,” he says, gently taking Adrien’s forearm. “Sorry, bro.”

”It’s fine,” Adrien says with a slight smile. “I did look like a doof, didn’t I?”

”The doofiest,” Nino says with a nod and a grin. He steps back and folds his arms. “What was so urgent that you needed me at the butt-end of the morning?”

Adrien opens his mouth, closes it again. "I, uh..." he begins. "You... remember that girl I keep saying I like? The one I work with?"

Nino raises an eyebrow. "The one who's not interested in you?"

Adrien's stomach bottoms out. "Yeah," he says. "Or, well. No?” He looks down at his feet, scratching at the back of his neck. How to put this? “It's gotten... weird."

Nino crosses his arms with a wry grin, sinking his weight backward into an uncharacteristically sassy sort of pose, the one he’s been doing more often the more time he spends with Alya. "Weird how?"

Adrien closes his eyes, breathes in, breathes out. "According to her,” he says, picking his thumbnails into his fingers, “yesterday was our one-month anniversary."

Nino’s silence is somehow louder than any words would have been. Adrien opens one eye, wincing, bracing for judgement, only to see confused pride on his friend’s face.

"So... wait," Nino finally says, pushing up his glasses and rubbing his sinuses with his fingers. "Let me—let—” He shakes his head. “You're dating her now?"

Adrien shrugs in distress. "Yes?" he says with another wince. "I'm... it's confusing." He raises his fingers to his lips, the memory of the softness of Ladybug's mouth on his own warming his face. "She... did kiss me last night. Unprompted."

Nino's eyes grow wide. "Dude," he says, holding out his fist. "Dap."

Adrien taps his knuckles against Nino's, still a little too confused to properly appreciate the situation.

“Come on,” Nino says. “Let’s head inside, we can talk while sitting.”

Adrien nods, following without really meaning to move his legs at all.

“So what changed?” Nino says as they walk down the hallway toward their lockers.

“What do you mean?” Adrien says, his eyes wandering. His head still feels a little fuzzy, to be honest.

Nino shrugs. “Well, I mean...” he says, “there’s gotta have been some kind of change, right? That led to her changing her mind?”

The side of Adrien’s mouth twists. “I got nothing,” he mumbles.

Nino turns to stare at him, then snorts and rolls his eyes. “Not surprised,” he says. “You’re not always the best at noticing things like that.”

”That’s... actually why I wanted to talk to you,” Adrien says. “Am I... really that oblivious?”

Nino stops walking and sighs. ”I...” He catches his tongue between his teeth. “You know how pretty much everyone we know has had a crush on Marinette at some point?"

Adrien gives a small smile. “Of course,” he says. That’s pretty much a given.

Nino nods. "Did you ever wonder why she never took anyone up on it until last month?"

"Yeah," Adrien says. "She had a guy she liked, right?"

Nino’s shoulders slump. "Yeah," He says. "You."

Adrien's train of thought comes to a screeching halt. "What?" he says.

Nino reaches out and claps Adrien’s shoulder. “She had a crush on you, dude.”

Adrien blinks. “But, her new boyfriend... wasn’t he the guy?”

Nino snorts. “Nope,” he says. “It was you, bro. And you were the only one who never knew.”

Adrien feels like lightning has been rammed into his skull. As bad as Adrien... it couldn’t be, right?

There’s no way.

*

Class isn’t as difficult as he was expecting. It’s worse. Nino’s words aren’t much to go on—in fact, they’re nothing at all, but it’s the first clue he’s had. So his brain, scrambled from exhaustion and caffeine as it is, can’t stop flitting around Marinette.

First: Kwamibuster. He’d been certain she was Ladybug, all the evidence he’d needed had been there, they were so alike, so brilliant and energetic... and then he’d seen them right next to each other. Different people? Illusion? And then Marinette had suddenly picked up a boyfriend, one who nobody in the class had met, and Adrien had been... so disappointed, but he could never pinpoint why.

When was that, anyway?

Was it a month ago?

He can’t pay any attention to anything that’s happening in front of him—the only thing he can hear is Marinette, Marinette, Marinette. It can’t be her, right? But his brain won’t let it go.

”So, how was your anniversary date?” Alya says with what Adrien can only assume is a sly grin. He can see her exact expression, even though he’s trying desperately not to turn around. Not to let on that he’s listening.

Marinette makes a sound like she’s swallowed her tongue. “Uh! W-weird, actually.”

Alya hums. “Weird how?” He hears the flannel of her shirt slide against the desk as she leans toward Marinette. “How’d the ‘plan’ go?”

Marinette squeaks. Adrien squirms in his seat, staring at his hands, screaming in his head not to turn around. He’s ignoring the way Nino is staring at him, trying to hold still.

”Come on, girl, spill!” Alya whispers. “Did you kiss him?”

”Yep!” Marinette squeaks.

”Oh my god you’re so red!” Alya cackles. Then her voice drops to a hiss. “Tell me everything!”

Marinette swallows. “I mean... it was really weird?” she says. “He... didn’t know we were dating?”

Adrien’s blood rushes to his ears like a vise around his skull, crushing inward. Didn’t know we were dating. That’s—it’s impossible.

Alya snorts. “Girl, are you sure you’re not dating Adrien?”

Adrien doesn’t hear Marinette’s response. He doesn’t hear much of anything until lunchtime, really.

Marinette is Ladybug. He’s going to explode.

*

“Hi, Mari!” he says as soon as she closes her locker.

She shrieks, leaping backward, scattering her papers on the ground, and Adrien immediately feels a rush of guilt at surprising her—but cats are 60% bastard, and he can’t help taking a little joy in it.

Marinette heaves a breath, pressing her hand to her chest. “Adrien!” she gasps. “You’ve gotta stop doing that!”

Adrien feels a grin spread across his face. “Never,” he drawls, leaning a bit into her space. “You’re too much fun to scare.”

Marinette smirks, pressing a finger to his sternum. “Well maybe I’ll just start sneaking up on you.”

Adrien’s heart begins to beat hard in his chest at her touch, at her smile. Oh, it’s her, it’s her, it’s her. And she’s not scared of him anymore, and now he knows exactly why that is...

”Can—can I talk to you?” he gasps out. “In private?”

Marinette’s eyebrows tighten, concern in her eyes. “Everything okay?”

It strikes him through the ribs, the way she cares about him, the way she makes his problems hers, and he knows she deserves the universe. He’s loved her, both of her, since the day they met, and she’s loved both of him, and if she asked him to steal the sun for her he’d burn himself alive snatching it from the sky. “Everything’s fine!” he says, gripping her arm. “Everything’s... great, actually.” He flashes her a smile, his fan’s favorite smile, hoping to put her at ease.

Instead, she tenses. “That’s your fake smile,” she says, her eyes narrowing.

Adrien blinks. “You can tell?” he says.

Marinette’s eyes widen, and her face goes bright red. “I—uh—”

Adrien bites his lip. Right, she’s been in love with him forever—knowing how she is, how the hammer-force of her attention slams down on everything she cares about, she probably noticed everything about him. It’s a wonder she didn’t figure out his identity.

”It’s fine!” he says. “I was just—trying to put you at ease, you know?”

Marinette sets her jaw and nods, glancing around the locker room, cataloguing everyone in the room the way she does when she’s trying to work out a Lucky Charm. “Classroom’s empty?”

Adrien nods. “Classroom.”

*

Marinette sits down on his desk, crossing her legs and leaning forward. “What’s up?”

Adrien looks away, breathes in. “How’s things with your boyfriend?”

Marinette blinks. “Adrien?” she says. There’s a note of... something in her voice. Hope? Anger? Disappointment? Maybe all three. You’re paying attention to me now? it seems to say.

“Last night was your anniversary, right?” Adrien says, looking at her. The pigtails. The eyes, bluer than blue. The earrings he’s only ever seen her take off once—the day Lady Noire showed up instead of Ladybug. Everything about her is the same, even the fire in her eyes.

Marinette’s eyes narrow. “Adrien, if this is about—”

”To be fair, My Lady,” he interrupts, slashing a Chat smile across his face, “you never actually told me we were dating.”

Marinette’s face goes slack, her mouth open, her eyes wide. “I—what?” she whispers. “You... no. No way. You—you can’t...” She straightens, breathing in, gathering herself. “Kitty?” she whispers.

Adrien grins, pressing one arm to his waist and throwing the other out wide with a bow. “Always at your service,” he says.

Suddenly he’s halfway to the floor, falling backwards, Marinette’s tiny hands seizing bunches of his lapels, her lips strawberry-sweet on his. They slam against the ground, together, entwined, gasping, together. Peppering each other with kisses.

“Kitty—”

“My Lady—”

“Princess—”

”Adrien—”

”Marinette—”

”I love you,” he gasps, clutching her chest against his own, and she stiffens.

”I... have been waiting to—to hear you say that... for—for two years,” she stammers.

He presses a kiss to her temple. “I’ve been saying it in private every day,” he says. “And I will say it to you every day for as long as you want it.”

Plagg snorts. “I can confirm,” he says. “Every frickin’ day with this kid. Both identities, too!”

Marinette giggles. “You should hear some of the stuff I said about you,” she says. Then her eyes widen. “Or—maybe not, please don’t—”

Tikki giggles from inside her purse. “I’m telling him anyway!”

Marinette’s eyes shoot to her bag. “Betrayal!” she hisses.

Adrien giggles, and Marinette laughs too, and the two of them just dissolve into laughter. Then, suddenly, Marinette stops.

”Oh,” she says. “Oh, no.”

Adrien blinks. “My Lady?”

Marinette fixes her burning gaze on his eyes. “What are we going to tell Alya?”

[imaginetonyandbucky]

(Give Me A) Reason To Live

Chapter 2

by @dracusfyre

“Do you know where they are planning to take him?” James asked as he headed for the stairs up to his room. Tony started to follow him then realized that James was going to drop his towel to get dressed and after a moment of temptation, stayed at the bottom of the stairs instead.

“SHIELD facility in New York,” Tony called up, trying very hard to concentrate on anything except what his imagination was currently trying to show him regarding a naked James next to a bed.

“SHIELD SHIELD, or Hydra SHIELD?” James said from above, voice slightly muffled.

“SHIELD SHIELD, as far as I can tell,” Tony said. “Fury himself is taking the lead, for now. But there’s always the question of what will happen after he wakes up, and I’m sure Hydra will be trying to weasel themselves into those plans.”

“True.” James jogged back down the stairs, his shirt clinging to damp skin and hair pulled away from his face. “So what do you think? Intercept before or after he wakes up?”

“After, I think.” Tony led him downstairs to the lab, where James had his own computer setup. He sat down at it and powered it on while Tony fired up the fancy coffee machine in the back of the room. “I mean, we have no idea how to thaw out someone safely, and no equipment to do so if we did.”

“True.” James pulled up the Hydra files and read the message that had sent Tony racing up the stairs, then started searching for the exact location of the Valkyrie and the NY SHIELD office to start planning. After a few weeks of fits and starts due to poor communication, they had finally settled into a good division of labor: Tony dug through the files for appropriate targets and when he had them, James would come up with the actual plan of attack. “The exfil will be a lot easier if he’s awake.”

Tony nodded and silence reigned for a long time, broken only by the sound of keyboards and James occasionally making notes. He didn’t realize he had fallen asleep at his desk until James shook him awake and herded him to bed. He’d been having a dream about Captain America, some fuzzy half-remembered thing where the man was scolding him for something, then he had turned into Tony’s father and sent Tony to his room. You didn’t have to be a shrink to pick up on that symbolism, Tony thought as he fell into bed.

“You should get undressed,” James said and Tony froze, suddenly wide awake as his heart hammered. Did he really…?

“What?” He managed, rolling over to look up at James.

Who raised an eyebrow and pointed to Tony’s feet. “You’re still wearing the shoes we went hiking in,” he pointed out, and Tony let his head fall back against the pillows as his face got hot.

“Right,” he mumbled, and toed them off to fall on the floor. James was still standing there, looking expectant, so with a put-upon sigh Tony sat up and started peeling off the rest of his clothes as well.

“This is going to change everything, isn’t it?” he said as James started to leave. “This thing with Cap?”

James hesitated at the door, the hand on the door frame gleaming in the dim light from the computers in the next room. “Get some sleep, Tony,” he said after a moment. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

There was that sick feeling again. Tony tossed his clothes in the corner and fell back into bed, and recited the digits of pi until he fell asleep.

                                                 ~~~~~

By the time Tony woke up and stumbled up the stairs, James was awake and thankfully already making breakfast. He shuffled up to the kitchen table and muttered a thanks as James slid a cup of coffee across the table. James knew better than to attempt conversation before Tony was ready, so they sat and ate in silence until Tony was finally awake enough to say, “Any news?”

“Nothing much. They needed special equipment to break through the ice without destabilizing the plane and sending it to the bottom of the ocean,” James said between bites of pancake.

“So we’ve got time?”

“Little bit.”

“Got a plan?”  At that, James tilted his head back and forth in an eh, sort of motion. “What do you need?”

“More intel.”

Tony just grunted and finished off his coffee. If James still had questions they would be ready and waiting for Tony downstairs, and since they had time, Tony needed at least one more cup of coffee before dealing with that. He pushed away from the table and put his plate in the dishwasher, then refilled his coffee and sat back down while James kept eating. This was another good system that they’d figured out over the past year; James ate twice as much as Tony, at least, to power that supersoldier metabolism, which worked out because by the time James was done eating, Tony was finished with his second cup of coffee and they were both ready to start the day.  “Hey, where’s he going to sleep?” Tony blurted out without thinking, then cringed. “Nevermind, that’s a stupid question.”

James just shrugged as he used his last bite to sop up some maple syrup. “Dunno. One of us will have to double bunk with someone, or take the couch, or get another mattress. Does it matter?”

“No, of course not.”

But James was eyeing him thoughtfully. “Is that what you meant? Last night?”

“Huh?”

“You said this was going to change everything.”

“Oh.” Tony looked down at his coffee cup to avoid James’ eyes. “I, uh, I meant we’re not going to be able to fly under the radar anymore, you know? After stealing Captain America out from under SHIELD and Hydra’s noses.”

“True.” As James picked up his plate and put it in the dishwasher as well, he said, “You should call him Steve. We’re rescuing Steve Rogers, not Captain America.”

Right. Of course. Like Tony could forget that James and Cap- Steve had a past. “Yeah, sure, sorry,” Tony muttered, taking a sip of coffee against the sour taste in his mouth. “I’ll head downstairs and get started on that intel.”

Once downstairs, he could see why James had left these questions to him. Questions like finding the building plans for the SHIELD facility and learning which personnel were going to be assigned to Steve were going to take some hacking to find out. Fortunately, when it came to SHIELD, Hydra was already infested in their systems, and Tony had a backdoor to Hydra, so by lunch time he was jogging back up the stairs to tell James what he’d found and almost tripped over a Barret MK22.

“Careful,” James said, sitting at the center of what looked like an explosion in a firearms factory. “I thought you’d be down there for longer.”

“Packing for the trip?” Tony asked, stepping carefully around the sniper rifle and picking his way through the rest of James’ collection towards the kitchen.

“Planning. Trying to figure out what we might need to pick up before we go.”

“I got that info for you, if that helps your planning.” Tony took one of the many frozen meals out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. “Looks like they are keeping this information pretty close to the chest, which is good for us. Not going to be a lot of attention on him when it comes time to do our thing.” James only made an absent noise, clearly still lost in thought as he stared at a stack of C4, so for a while there was only the humming of the microwave until Tony got impatient and opened the door early. “I’ll be downstairs,” he told James as he grabbed a fork and gingerly picked up his molten hot lasagna.

“I’m coming,” James said, getting to his feet with a smooth, easy motion that made Tony feel every one of his years. Tony settled down in his computer chair as James stood behind him, leaving Tony with a prickling awareness of how close he was. Tony took a deep breath to steady himself and pulled up the report he’d slapped together. First was the building plan, and after it got James’ nod of approval Tony sent it to the jumbo printer because he knew that James liked to work off of hard copies. Next was a series of internal shield memos proposing a variety of plans for what to do when Steve woke up, and James snorted derisively as he read them. “Not a single one of these people know anything about Steve, do they?”

“I mean, only what they learned from history books, I guess. What would you do?”

“You mean what am I going to do? I’m going to say, ‘Wake the fuck up, Steve, we gotta get out of here now follow me.’”

Tony laughed and saw James’ mouth curl up at the corners. “Simple and effective. I like it.” Since SHIELD was still trying to decide its plan of action, Tony dismissed the emails and started pulling up the personnel list.  Like he’d said, it wasn’t long; SHIELD was playing this one close to the vest for now.

“Wait.” Tony immediately stopped scrolling as James leaned over his shoulder, smelling like shower soap and gun oil. “I know her,” James said, frowning. He pointed at the redhead. “Who is she?”

“Well, her SHIELD ID says Natalie Rushman,” Tony said. “Is she Hydra?”

“No…” James said slowly, eyebrows drawing together as he tried to remember. Many of his memories had come back surprisingly quickly once they’d escaped Hydra, making for some really touch-and-go moments in the early months as James had often woken up screaming from nightmares and had wandered around the cabin hollow-eyed and haunted. Going into the woods had been his escape in those days, and he’d only told Tony what he was up to after Tony had gotten cabin fever and decided to go for a hike and figure out what all the hype was about with fresh air and nature. “I think I shot her once.”

“Think she’d know your face?”

“Maybe.” Tony could tell that James was still frustrated by the almost-there memory so he left the image up on the screen for him to stare at.

“That’ll be a complication, since she’s part of his reintegration team,” Tony mused. “Strangely enough, I guess that means between the two of us, I’ll be the one least likely to be recognized. Not something I ever thought I’d say.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Um…” Tony squinted at James and realized that obviously James wouldn’t know much about Tony’s past, other than what he’d told him or what James would have seen in the Hydra files. Especially if it hadn’t occurred to James to look him up on the internet, which he guessed was possible. “I was, uh, kind of a celebrity.”

“What for? Were you a movie star or something?”

Tony made a face. He didn’t want to admit that he was mostly famous for a series of sex scandals to someone who had personally known Captain America. “Nothing good,” he said finally. “Stupid stuff.” No chance James wasn’t going to Google him now, but at least he wouldn’t have to explain to James’ face why there were so many pictures on the internet of him naked. Thankfully, James just shrugged, apparently willing to leave it at that, so Tony quickly went through the rest of the items on James’ list. There was also no further updates on the efforts to get Steve out of the ice, so they were officially in Tony’s least favorite part of any operation: the hurry up and wait part.

With nothing else to do in the lab, Tony set JARVIS to keep an eye on any further communication and followed James back up the stairs. Since the couch was the only part of the living room that wasn’t covered in some kind of weapon, Tony perched on it and turned on the TV while James organized his collection. Making sad noises at James got him his forgotten lasagna from downstairs with the low, low cost of grumbling and an eye roll, leaving Tony to have a pleasant couple of hours hanging out in companionable silence with James. At some point, James had changed position to lean against the couch while sitting on the floor, which had meant that his back was pressing against Tony’s leg, warm and solid and something Tony only thought about every 15 seconds or so for a solid hour.  

“I was thinking about what you said earlier,” James said after a while, sitting up and sadly moving away from Tony as he started to put away the weapons, sorting them into piles and returning some to their hiding places. “About this operation breaking our cover.”

“Yeah?”

“Your suit. Could you make it flashy?”

“Flashy?” Tony echoed in confusion. He had a couple of suit builds now, based on the various types of missions they went on, but all of them were matte black and had a rubberized exterior to reduce the noise and radar profile. “I mean, sure, that wouldn’t be hard. But why?”

“Our best bet might be for you to create a distraction, and I think you zooming down 5th Avenue would be a good distraction.”

Tony stared at him, stomach turning as his whole body went hot and cold with fear. “No,” he said shakily, turning away from James and sliding further into the couch, staring resolutely at the TV screen. “No fucking way.” Tony pulled the blanket tighter around himself, curling into a ball. Everything depended on him not being seen, on Hydra not knowing he was alive. Everything. How could James not know that? Was Tony supposed to jump at the chance to sacrifice himself for Steve? Because one look at the suit and Hydra would know, Stane would know, and then– then-

A sudden warm hand on his shoulder made him jump and lash out. When his hands only met hard muscle fight turned to flight and he scrambled away. But as he tried to get to his feet he tripped over a blanket and hit the floor hard, knocking the wind out of him. His heart was pounding in his ears but eventually he heard James talking to him, saying “Tony, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, just wait,” and that was like a bucket of water to the face. He realized he was sweating and his breathing was fast and shallow, and as he looked up at James he felt the hot crawl of humiliation.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly as he climbed to his feet. “I’m going to take a shower.” He could feel the pressure of James’ eyes and his silence against his back as he went to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He shook for a while, leaning against the bathroom door, before he finally managed to turn on the shower.

The awkwardness lasted until dinner, with James clearly wanting to say something but unsure how to bring it up, and Tony too embarrassed to meet his eye or give him an opening. Thankfully, JARVIS gave them an update halfway through dinner, and the tension eased as conversation turned towards their plan. Since James had cooked, Tony reluctantly got up to do the dishes, only to have James gently crowd him away from the sink. “You need to get ready for the mission,” James pointed out, which was a flimsy excuse because it didn’t take that long to get the suit ready to go now that Tony had figured out how to make it deploy from something the size of a suitcase, but Tony didn’t argue. He hated doing dishes.

It was also better than staying upstairs and risking that James would say something, so he went downstairs to prep the suit. Once down there, though, he slowed as he approached the Mark VII, remembering James’ suggestion earlier. Though the thought still make his limbs feel weak and his heart race, he forced himself to sit down and consider the idea instead of running from it. He knew what James had been trying to suggest; he could get the attention of the police and any SHIELD agents in the area and draw them away from James while he rescued Steve. He could even put a few holes in the building to cover their escape then disappear as soon as they were clear. It was smart, it was simple, and it was fucking terrifying.

Though there was no escaping the fact that Tony had put in a lot of effort making sure Hydra would think he was dead, and this was going to undo all of that work. “Fuck,” Tony groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. It wasn’t like James wasn’t risking everything, too, but apparently he was willing to let Tony take the cowards way out even if it made their plan harder. “JARVIS,” he said finally, voice muffled behind his hands. “Warm up the machines, we’re modifying one of the suits. We’re changing up the armor.” What was an eye-catching color? Probably red, a bright red. All the better to wave himself in front of the metaphorical bull. But all red would look like shit. “Red and gold,” Tony said finally. “Make me a mockup of the armor in red and gold.”

[ninjakitty15]

Cold As Death (Loki)

Chapter One: Looks That Could Kill

By all accounts, today should've been like the countless other days before it. Just another day stuck in a glass cell with the occasional "scientist" trying to figure out how to harness something no regular schmuck or mortal could hope to grasp by poking, prodding, and bleeding me. But this was Hydra for you, try to change one idiots mind, and several more idiots tell you you're wrong. German, American, or other, there are evil idiots in every corner of every world, that's for damn sure. At this point I couldn't figure out why they still kept me here, locked away from everything when they couldn't what they wanted from me. They already tried torturing it out of me like pain would make me crumble, I just ended up wincing or laughing depending on what they did as there were times I actually wasn't sure I felt anything, not because they did it often enough or it was that bad, I was just sorta dead inside so some nerve endings didn't always work.

The only thing remotely unusual about today though was it wasn't as busy where they stashed me, hands locked in power dampening shackles and a metal muzzle to boot. At some point earlier they attempted to keep me sedated and unconscious but I woke myself back up once they left me alone thinking I was no longer a problem. Amateurs. As I sat in the middle of the cell, eyes closed but fully alert and coherent, I felt before I ever heard a presence that felt otherworldly to me. They were silent, seeming to observe with caution as I felt it get closer and start to circle the container then pause right where I knew the controls of the cage to be. There was a fifty fifty chance this presence would let me out, the other half being they come in and another round of human pinata would start but instead of candy it would just be blood and a lot of bad puns and jokes falling out of me, maybe drop a few s/m mentions. Serious folks tend to get real uncomfortable when you get sexual on them. If you can't laugh about sex, you don't have a sense of humor.  A button was pressed on the panel and a door formed in front of me where the glass was and I got a stronger feel of who or what was in front of me on the other side. They were definitely not your average Joe, probably not even human and flowing with a lifeforce not even mutants could possibly obtain. An immortal for sure. They took one step toward me and because this wasn't something I'd encountered since my containment, I instinctively tensed which made them pause again.

"You're awake?" A smooth almost british accented voice, noted softly yet curiously.

I opened my eyes then just to confirm that as the muzzle was holding back my usual smartass responses. They was actually one tall man clad in leather and gold metal, watching me carefully with piercing blue/green eyes. Maybe it was seeing the same ugly mugs every day for gods know how long I've been down here and finally seeing a new face, maybe it was the fact he was wearing my two favorite colors and pulled it off better than anyone else I've seen try that. But damn did he look good. It might also be the killer jawline and physique too. His eyes fixated on the muzzle for a moment and a hardened scowl formed for some reason, surprisingly not twisting the dashing look like it does most angry men. And then suddenly I could speak again but opted to gasp like a dying beached fish because damn did it feel good to not have airways being blocked anymore. Vaguely I wondered if my lips were chapped from the damned thing before smiling maniacally.

"Finally, oral freedom!" I cried overdramatically.  "I don't usually offer though unless its returned, all's fair in love and fun stuff."

The man cracked a small smile and ventured a step closer to me. "What are you? And why are you in here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, hun," i quipped. "And seeing as I was here first, you should answer first."

He chuckled and took a more confident step toward me though his lifeforce strengthened like a guard around him. Before he could answer himself though, a booming and somehow familiar voice called out. "Loki, have you found anything down there?!" Which caused the dude now named Loki to cringe at the interruption and sigh.

"No one here but us ghouls," I told him in answer.

"They have a prisoner down here, brother!" replied Loki though his eyes never left me.

"Prisoner's such a harsh word, I prefer forced resident or illegal obtained house guest," I informed him. "You answer his questions, but not mine. It's because I'm black, isn't it?" I was actually what one would describe in terms of skin color as not recently dead pale white.

"I thought he was answer enough, I'm sure you know of Thor, he likes to play the hero of this realm," Loki replied to me, an eyebrow arched.

"The Norse God of shitty weather? Y'all aren't busy with cooler realms?" I asked.

"This wasn't my choice," was his dry response, making me smile more.

I snickered. "Spoken like a true sibling. So you came down here, an alien immortal, because your big brother told you so. My heart bleeds for you really."

He glared at my unabashed sarcasm and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now answer mine before he comes in and makes a great mess of this place."

"More than the people that came with this building already have? That's gotta take talent. But I'll bite. They hunted me down gods know how long ago and attempted to extract something from me that makes me awesome, didn't work obviously or they'd make a mess not even your brother could trump and we wouldn't be here talking. Too valuable to be killed, though they couldn't if they tried, too stubborn to be experimented on. Where'd they go anyway? Are you guys the reason I didn't get my daily prodding?"

"My brothers...friends dealt with the ones they could find, if they're anything like their namesake, I'm sure there's more in hiding waiting for reinforcements or something like that."

Another man leaped down out of nowhere that definitely wasn't Thor as he didn't have long golden locks or a beard, his head and half his face were actually covered by a mask and instead of a hammer was a shield in one arm.

"Thor failed to mention it was a woman," the new dude noted.

"And my gender matters because...?" I wasn't actually offended by this, just messing with him to get a reaction which worked as he genuinely looked bashful, making me cackle. "For all the armor you people wear, it's still surprisingly easy to get under your skin. Maybe I've just been here so long, they're just fashion statements now, if everyone's wearing leather armor count me in!"

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's just us," Loki told me.

"She tell you why they're holding her?" the new man asked him.

"They're trying to steal her powers though I'm not sure what they are yet."

"Only the best kind of course," I told them. "It's all the rage these days, all the Hydra agents gotta have it."

"Well they can find it somewhere else as you're free from them but you can tell us all about the what and why, if you don't mind," the new man said.

"You say that so politely but I'm getting the sense you weren't asking. I'll comply if you give me a hand here, mine are a bit tied up at the moment." I raised my shackled hands as high as able since they were chained to the metal floor beneath me.

The new man was quick to break the chains connecting me to the floor before Loki waved a hand like Jedi Knight and the shackled sprang open, dropping to the floor with a loud clang. I flexed my hands and shook them a bit to get feeling back with them being cramped and slowly got to my feet, staggering a bit as my leg bones cracked from the sudden use and weight. I sighed in sweet relief and relaxed with a slight grin. "Alrighty then!" With my hands free, so was my powers just a bit more and I could collect and stretch it out, testing the waters. That seemed to be enough for Loki to notice being a power person as well and both eyebrows shot up as he probably felt what I was doing. I winked at him before turning to the other guy. "Onward and upward!"

With the new guy leading me out of the building and Loki being my tail, I was on my way to freedom for good before being nearly blinded by that god awful ball of fire in the sky, everyone else calls the sun. I recoiled and refrained from hissing like an angry vampire, stumbling back into Loki in the process who steadied me and smirked at my reaction to daylight. The new guy looked back hearing me cursing at it and raised an eyebrow in question but didn't actually ask anything.

"What? I'm not a morning person," I responded before straightening up but subtly elbowing Loki in the stomach, causing a soft grunt from behind while accidentally hitting my funny bone which wasn't that funny at all as my entire arm went numb and tingly at the same time. "Stupid toned god with your stupid abs of granite."

The new guy stopped walking and pressed a hand against his ear. "We're out, all the agents we could flush out are dealt with. A ride would be nice." Ah he was talking on a com of some kind it seems. How high tech yet old school. Within a few moments, an even more hightech fighter plane of some kind hovered low enough for him to climb in first then offer his hand to pull me up as I was unfortunately not remotely as tall or long legged as either man near me. I looked around the plane curiously to see another man and a redhaired woman at the front as pilots, the woman looking back and landing her eyes on me as well.

"Are you the prisoner Thor spoke of?" she asked.

"I'm the illegally obtained house guest, yes." Loki snickered behind me and I reminded myself not to elbow him again as my arm still hadn't gotten proper feeling back.

The woman smiled as well and nodded. "Buckle up then, we're heading back to base, could get bumpy. All good back there, Steve?" she called after the first new guy who was now Steve.

"Ready when you are," he answered, sitting at the tail end of the machine.

The plane rose up and shot forward at an illegally unsafe speed above the city. Loki had settled across from me, eyes ever studying me but unlike the agents that actually did and more, they weren't malicious or power hungry, just cautious and curious. I decided to test his resolve then and locked my eyes on his in an unwavering staring contest. "First one to blink loses."

"Is that why they muzzled you? Because if you're not under their skin, you're cracking jokes?" he asked.

"If you don't have a sense of humor you don't have much to live for and that's how they win. Also no, it's not how I talked, but who I talked to or when it wasn't them."

"To contain your powers, like they did your hands then. And they didn't get anything from you?"

"What I have can't be drained or pulled out or copied, it's not specifically found in something like DNA or an organ or something physical even. Those guys claim to be scientists but real scientists accept facts as they are when proof is found and I'm living proof they're all frauds with no results. I bet they don't even have a Ph.D."

"They're Hydra, they're funded by power and money, not degrees and universities," Steve spoke up.

"So you're telling me they just pulled a few crazy people with crazyass theories on things from a hat and told them they're scientists now? I should've gone to college there, I wanna have money and be told I have a job with more money. All I got from mine a piece of paper saying I know some things and then years of disappointment from being unemployed. I probably look good in a lab coat too."

"A stark difference from your current attire of all black and hooded," Loki pointed out.

I snorted. "All they let me wear after ruining the one I was caught in from their experimentation, they thought the attire should fit the power, how unimaginative is that? Let's just advertise exactly what I can do to everyone around me, that'll throw them off for sure."

"And what can you do?" he challenged.

"Uh-uh, spoilers sweety. A preview of which will cost you extra."

"But we just gave you a free ride," chipped the male pilot.

"Hey, you're not part of this conversation, and I don't even know where we're going, this could be a free ride to something worse. Like Shield or the dentist."

"Bad experience? Ate too much candy as a kid, didn't you?" the pilot guessed.

"If you think there's such thing as too much candy, then your childhood sucked and I pity your past."

"Tony's gonna love this one," mused the female pilot. "What's your name?"

"I've been out of custody for like 15 minutes and finally someone asks! It's Noelle, Nell for short. And you pilots are...?"

"About to land for starters," the man said. "I'm Clint, she's Nat, and we're at base so everyone out of my plane."

"That's Tony's plane actually," quipped Loki as the plane landed and everyone unbuckled. "Come along, meet the rest of my brother's friends."

[windscattered]

Previously

Orlando tensed, ready for sudden movements. Slowly, he looked to Daniel, to measure his reaction to figure out the next move.

Daniel looked horrified. His face had fallen pale and his posture was like a cornered animal’s. Just when Orlando thought he’d faint, his eyes slowly looked down and glazed over, his shoulders drooping in utter defeat.

Orlando decided to try and salvage this. “I am not sure what you’re thinking, but I’m here to just pick up some stuff…” Orlando hesitated. Should he use Daniel’s real name? “... he donated to charity,” Orlando said, putting on his just-a-regular-citizen voice. “Yesterday he donated a coffee maker and a microwave, today it’s some clothes he doesn’t wear anymore.”

The woman’s eyes snapped to Orlando and he immediately understood why Daniel looked so terrified. Her gaze felt like a hawk zeroing in on a mouse. “And who are you?”

Good thing Orlando had learned to mask his emotions from a young age. “My name is Basil. I work for Christine’s Shelter for the Homeless.”

The woman raised her eyebrows. “Mm. And you were here yesterday as well?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman smiled, sickeningly sweet and hiding a dangerous edge. “Interesting. And why did you feel the need to shut my security cameras off while you were here?”

Orlando put a confused look on his face. “The cameras? I… I’m afraid I have no idea what that’s about.”

She narrowed her eyes and stared at Orlando for a long time. “Leave,” she said coldly. “Or I’ll call the police on you.”

“Okay, sheesh,” Orlando said, pretending to be surprised and only slightly peeved. “No need to get so testy.” He left the house and let the brief disguise drop.

This was bad. If the woman was anything like Orlando knew abusive people to be, she would tighten her grip on Daniel now that she’s witnessed an escape attempt. Orlando did manage to play it off as something else, but he was fairly sure she hadn’t bought it. Only an idiot would have looked at the scene right at the front door and thought it was nothing but illicit. Orlando’s stomach twisted as he thought how the woman would treat Daniel from now on… He felt awful for having to leave Daniel there for one more day, but it was either that or risk getting arrested.

Orlando racked his brain for a new plan. Now he not only had to sneak Daniel out of the house, he had to make sure the woman wouldn’t track them down and find him again. Of course, it was surprisingly easy to disappear into the lower levels and be almost completely untracked. Orlando had an advantage in this, since he’s been trained since childhood to track other people while avoiding to be tracked himself.

The hardest part, however, would be getting Daniel and Fang out of the house… The only way Orlando saw how to do that was to wait until the woman was at work and then try again, while hoping it’d work this time.

Orlando sighed and rubbed his forehead. 

As soon as Orlando got home, he texted Daniel, asking if he was okay and reassuring him he was willing to try again if he needed to. He didn’t get an answer in a few days.

On the third day, he finally got a response.

Daniel: Hey sorry for that

Orlando scrambled to reply as fast as he could.

Me: Don’t worry about it! Are you okay?

Daniel: This isnt delano tho sorry

Daniel: This is the guy with the mohawk do you remember me

Me: Oh, yes, I do

Daniel: My names adriano btw

Daniel: Anyway delanos… hes not fine

Daniel: Delanos like… idk how to describe it its like he gave up on escaping its like hes just going to accept that this is his life now

Daniel: Its scary as fuck dude

Daniel: Mom took his phone away like hes a teenager thats so fucking messed up

Daniel: I stole his phone back but he insisted i have it just in case

Daniel: Im fucking terrified moms literally holding him as a prisoner here

Daniel: I never knew mom could do something like this

Daniel: We cant stay here

Daniel: You gotta help us

The texts popped up one after another in rapid succession. Orlando waited until he was done.

Me: Okay. Let me make some things clear. Does Delano still want out?

Daniel: Idk man he’s so defeated

Daniel: Im going to drag him out tho

Daniel: My moms a psycho this place is killing him

Me: Alright. I’ll drag him out too, if you want me to

Daniel: Why is that even a question of course i want you to get us the fuck out of here

Daniel: Theres no way i can trust mom again now that ive seen what shes really like

Me: Of course. And you want to come along too?

Daniel: Yeah

Orlando frowned. Hiding two people and a dog might be tricky. But he would at least try.

Me: I’ll do what I can

Daniel: Delano said you need to talk to lillith

Orlando frowned. Lillith? The founder of the Sex Workers’ Union? The Queen of the Low Levels? Wait, why was Orlando surprised that Daniel knew her? Daniel was a sex worker, of course he would belong in the Union.

Contacting Lillith would be a good call, though. She was notoriously protective of sex workers. If they were lucky, she could help with this situation… 

Me: I’ll do that. Thank you

Me: I’ll contact you when I have a plan

Me: Try to hold on until then

Daniel: Thank you

Daniel: Well do our best

Orlando had worked for Lillith a few times before, but he didn’t know her personally. He had to wonder if she would respond well to him asking a favour, as he wasn’t a part of the union. Figuring he had to at least try, he sent Lillith a text.

Me: Hello, Miss Lillith. I am contacting you today on behalf of one of your workers. He is currently held against his will by an abusive person and he needs help getting out. He and I both would appreciate your help.

Lillith took a short time to reply.

Miss Lilly: What’s the worker’s name? Do you have an address?

Me: I believe his name is Delano

Orlando also sent the address to her.

Miss Lilly: Jesus fucking christ

Miss Lilly: He just had to go piss of that bitch out of all people

Me: What do you mean?

Miss Lilly: It’s going to be bitch and a half busting him out, is what I mean

Miss Lilly: I’ve heard rumours that this woman has no chill

Orlando thought back when she had looked at him when he had been at her house. He could believe that.

Me: I am not surprised

Miss Lilly: Yeah. I need more info on the sitch. Can I text Delano? Does he have his phone?

Me: His phone is secured, but he doesn’t have access to it. You can text the number and get an answer, though

Miss Lilly: Wdym? Who has his phone?

Me: We can trust him. He’s also stuck in the house with Delano. We need to get him out as well

Miss Lilly: So there’s two people we need to get out?

Me: Two people and a dog

Miss Lilly: Hmm. It’s going to be tricky, but possible

Miss Lilly: How much stuff are they going to have?

Me: I got most of Delano’s stuff out, so only a little of his, but most of Adriano’s. I believe he has a guitar that he’s going to want to take along.

Me: Delano also has a broken arm at the moment

Miss Lilly: God damn

Miss Lilly: Okay. No panic. I have a plan

***

And so, a few days later, Orlando was headed back to the house, with four sex workers (Ana, Sara, Jessie and Rosa, as Orlando learned) sent by Lillith. “To help carry stuff,” one of them had explained. Orlando hadn’t complained.

“How do we know she won’t appear to interrupt us again?” Orlando asked, while the group were in an elevator, on their way to the upper levels.

“Lils got it,” Jessie said.

“If Lils says she got it, she got it,” Sara agreed.

“We trust Lils,” Rosa said with a nod.

Orlando nodded slowly. He supposed he should trust her too, then.

The group arrived at the house and put on masks that would scramble their faces on any cameras that caught them.

“Let’s go, girls,” Ana said with a grin. “And boy, I guess.”

The group marched to the door and rang the doorbell before Orlando could protest.

“Relax, we’re wearing masks,” Jessie said, waving her hand.

“Yes, but I’d still like to avoid getting caught on security cameras,” Orlando muttered as Rosa hammered the doorbell.

The door opened and Adriano was behind it, looking irritated. “For fuck’s sake, I heard you the fir…” he trailed off as Rosa and Ana screamed.

“Oh my gawd, you’re cuuute!”

Adriano flushed up to his ears, immediately matching his hair. He looked like he was panicking as his eyes landed on Orlando. “Be… BG?”

“It’s me,” Orlando said with a sheepish smile that Adriano didn’t even see. “I got some extra help with me this time.”

“Alright…”  Adriano let the group in.

“Jesus christ, this place is fancy as shit,” Sara said as they stepped in.

“God daaaamn,” Ana breathed. “I wouldn’t mind switching places with Delano.”

“Why did you bring sex workers here?” Adriano whispered to Orlando.

“They’re here to help,” Orlando whispered back. “Be respectful.”

Daniel appeared and the girls screamed. “DELANOOOO!”

Daniel looked like a deer in the headlights as the girls rushed him, all talking over each other.

“Where have you been?”

“I missed youuu!”

“When did you get a sugar daddy?” 

“Can I have him once you’re done with him?”

Adriano stared at this unfolding with utter disbelief.

Orlando clapped his hands to gain everyone’s attention. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but we’re on a schedule here.”

“Agreed,” Jessie said. “Let’s get a move on. We can talk while walking. Where’s your stuff?”

So the group dispersed to gather the luggage they needed, spiced with chaotic chattering from the girls.

“Can we steal something?”

“We should steal something!”

“I really don’t care if you do,” Adriano said.

“Oh shit, really?!” Rosa said, eyes wide. “I was just joking!”

“Go fucking nuts,” Adriano said, “cause as much grief to her as you can.”

The girls exchanged looks. “Let’s steal her shampoo!” They ran off. Adriano followed, for some reason.

“Jesus christ,” Delano sighed.

“Everything okay?” Orlando asked.

“Yeah,” Delano said. “Just overwhelmed. I haven’t even thought about sex work for the whole time I’ve been here. It all feels so distant now.”

Orlando nodded slowly. “Are you going to continue doing it once you’re free?”

Delano was quiet for a moment. Just as he drew a breath to answer, the girls and Adriano returned.

“Thanks for letting us rob your mom, sweetie,” Sara said, pinching Adriano’s cheek. “We don’t have to buy skincare for a few weeks now.”

Adriano was blushing again. “No problem.”

As the groups got ready to leave again, Orlando noticed that Delano freezed. “What’s wrong?”

Delano shifted his weight. “I… I just have a bad feeling, is all.”

Orlando nodded again. Last time they had gotten this far, their plan had failed at this same step.

“Don’t worry,” Jessie grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. “Lils said she’s making sure we’ll get to the lower levels safely.”

“Yeah, trust Lils,” Ana said.

Delano looked down at Fang on her leash, who was looking up at him, tail wagging. Finally, Delano nodded and looked back up at the group. “Let’s go.”

[mochuelovelli]

GAAAAHHH OKAY

Let's talk about the Timephoon Episodes

This is such an old topic of discourse but after reading many fanfics, videos, and some posts on the subject I have found little divergent takes on the whole subject.

While commentators are of the mind that, for the most part, the punishment and execution of said punishment for Louie's actions were partially if not fully justified but how she went about it was wrong.

Some fanfic writers and some subsects of the fandom but they are much more critical and often in a more black and white interpretation. Which is valid for vent art. However, I find both these portrayals to be lacking in some nuance.

Specifically when it it comes to who's to blame for the next 3 episodes, and to me, its more than just Della (and Louie but there really isn't much discourse here).

Let's start with Timephoon:

This pretty much solidifies their relationship throughout the episode[Also sorry for no captions]. Multiple times Della is shown to have a very laissez faire style of parenting as she primarily wants her kids to enjoy being kids and having fun. This is probably in part to her personality in general - which is probably what Beakley assumes here - however it is also her want to be loved by her children and even more critically, she doesn't ever want them to suffer like she did. Above all else, she wants them to be happy and feel confident in themselves. We see this in all the previous episode with her and her kids - From Dewey and reassuring him that he doesn't need to prove himself to her [notably in this episode she only shows concern when Dewey himself is in danger, she doesn't give a shit when he almost kills her] to Huey and helping him to have the most fun he possibly can, to even Webby and making sure that she also feels confident in herself regardless in how she goes about things.

Bringing up all these adventures does raise some pretty damning hypocrisy. Della encourage Dewey's reckless behavior in his episode. The lesson at the end wasn't, okay maybe we shouldn't be going on dangerous adventures, it was its okay to be afraid and you don't need to prove to me that you're great I already know you are. Huey's message was similar, albeit more low stakes. Webby's lesson wasn't even that she shouldn't be trying to take such risks to find adventure in the future, it was just a lesson in not being disappointed when things don't work the way you want.

So why wasn't Louie's adventure treated the same? Well... let's look at some more examples of Beakley V Della this episode before we answer that -

This is right before the kids find Bubba, Beakley's reaction is what most people would consider to be parental as she is concerned for the safety of the kids running out in a hurricane. Again we see Della acting casual.

Once Bubba is inside and Huey geeks out about him, Beakley actually smiles bc she knows that something like this means a lot to Huey [keep this in mind for l8r]. She only gets serious after Della says it's neat without much after thought so she gives the lesson of the episode - "Small problems become big problems later if not prevented early."

Next we have Della's faux attempt at being strict with her kids. Letting the irresponsible thing happen as long as they are "safe". While also harkening back to her previous episodes where she also is shown to have this attitude that "the kids can do anything as long as they are safe with ME or Scrooge or another SAFE adult", it is also good to note SCROOGE'S expression here to her patting herself on the back for her parenting. Now he could just be confused as to why Della is taking this "lesson" as a win, but he could be noticing that she really doesn't know what she is doing but unlike Beakley doesn't make any attempts to correct this.

Another scene that people often forget when reviewing this episode, just like with all her other kids she at first takes LOUIE'S side and decides they should just roll with the punches like always. Which honestly is sort if valid because that's kinda Scrooge's whole MO; though he also had others to there to keep him afloat but we all know someone like Scrooge, Della, and the kids hardly see that. I also want to hammer home that, just like with the other boys, she doesn't shy away from displaying that she loves them ALL. A few seconds later, it's subtle but she is shown smiling and patting Louie on the head because like the other kids she just wants him to feel supported. If I was to be critical, I would say this is possibly because she likes the IDEA of her boys more than them but I mean - this is pretty much everyone's attitude towards kids. It might be amplified bc of her trauma but it's not unusual. But even still I would argue that she mainly does love the boys for who they are as she is excited to get to know them.

After Della figures that they are looking for a "master thief", Scrooge and Beakley immediately know it's one of the kids. Shocking her since she later states she is of the belief that her kids are too "good" to do something like this. I also want to bring attention, again, to Beakley smiling (ik im putting a lot of stock into expressions but animation tends to do stuff like this for a reason). She is smiling at whom she expects is Dewey for messing with time and space. Bc even if she planned to scold him, she knows it's just their normal. Scrooge seems to also be of the same mind. Later Beakley gives a really good line about "Even good kids can do dumb things. We got to make sure those dumb things don't turn into bad things like destroying all of existence!".

Mrs. B exists stage right

All jokes aside, this must have been a nightmare for all of them but especially Della. She had just finally admitted that she was out of her depth and made another mistake in parenting. But now it seems like she lost her chance to rectify that. Because for all she knows, Mrs. B will never come back. This is import-ALLRIGHTWEGETIT

Della is then shown explicitly worried about her family. Emotions, insecurities and fear obviously getting the best of her. We don't know exactly what she is thinking but we know she is terrified of the possibility of losing one of her kids. When she asks about Louie, she probably thinks he must have disappeared without her knowing. That she might have already failed more than she could know, because she wasn't there to protect him. She doesn't know - she is "Della Duck" and she doesn't know how to fix this. She didn't expect everything to go so horribly wrong, but that's her theme isn't it?

She is both relieved and understandably PISSED when finding that Louie was responsible for almost destroying the fabric of reality (let me say this again, nearly destroying the fabric of reality). She goes scold both herself and her son about the danger he put them in. Later we see Della, the last one leave and seeing almost everyone she loves vanish. We don't know how long each of the characters who left were in the past but we can assume it was long enough to have to change clothes. Yeah this was probably more of a visual gag but like, the other past characters didn't change their outfits when they came to the present so - (also Launchpad was specific about knowing how the world ends so he had to be there enough for him to understand it). Side note someones gotta write fanfic of these characters time misadventures. I wonder if Dewey and Webby ran into Agent 22.

[Last picture of the infamous scene, side note did anyone notice Launchpad NODDING his head when Della mentioned his time schemes could've cost them their future? He's the only one who knows what happened so maybe Louie's misadventure has more impact than we think-]

Anyways, yeah we know what was said here. But I think it's important to see the reaction the other adults (sorry LP, and Gryo i GUESS) have here BC this is basically why I made this post. What Della decided to do was unquestionably the wrong decision, at least her way of going about it and I will not absolve her of her many MANY mistakes. However, let's remember she wasn't alone in any of this. She was with other parental figures who KNOW more about her kids than she does.

After Louie leaves, why did they think it was good to encourage this course of action? Why did they think giving full parental control to a PTSD, trauma survivor who barely got back less than a month ago was a good idea? Sure it's one thing to not want to overstep your boundaries but are you telling me they wouldn't want to guide her in the right direction at least? We KNOW both Beakley AND Scrooge have their grievences towards Della's parenting strategy or lack there of. Beakley so far doing the most to try and put her in the right direction (which speaks volumes to the problems Scrooge has).

So why wouldn't they explain that, hey, maybe taking away the one thing your kid thinks he is good at ISNT a great idea? Why didn't either say anything about their two day vacation? Something that came up presumingly on a whim and might of prevented (although i doubt it) Louie from trying to steal w/ time? He might have considered pushing back time schemes at least 3 days later. While Mrs. Beakley might be less aware of Louie's insecurities and ambitions, Scrooge definitely isn't. He should have talked to her, and hey we don't see what happens before they leave so maybe MAYBE they did. But again, I doubt it. Seeing as how they all agreed with her at the end, I don't see them trying to meddle with her.

But they should've. They are both experienced guardians and they have nothing to say to her? Plus Donald (goddamn it i almost finished a post w/o him) have THEM responsibility to take care of the kids NOT Della. So they are obligated to help her. Really, the other option other than just well negligence would be not thinking this punishment was a big deal. I wish this aspect was also scrutinized just as much as Della and Louies role in this arc.

Beakley and Scrooge (more so Scrooge) are just as much to blame in what happens as Della if not MORE since they know of her situation in only a way that an experience adult can. There is no excuse for their negligence.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Roman Sionis

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Birds of Prey is a fun, silly movie. So you’d expect a fun, silly villain for such a film, right? Well, we sort of get that… but this is an R-rated fun, silly movie, so the villain is going to cuss a lot and peel people’s faces off and be a raging psychopathic manchild. Roman Sionis, everybody!

Good old Roman Sionis, known to comic fans as Black Mask (he isn’t ever called that by anyone except Harley during his introduction, and he doesn’t even wear his mask until the end), is just an absolute raging lunatic. He gets mad at the drop of a hat, is creepily posessive of Dinah Lance, has a very close relationship with his murderous second-in-command Zsasz, and is just generally unpleasant to every single person who crosses his path.

But that’s par for the course for Roman Sionis, who is never really EVER portrayed as a charming, likable guy. The real question here is, is he an entertaining villain? Well he’s played by Ewan McGregor, what do YOU think?

Motivation/Goals: Roman is a relatively simple villain, but I think this works in his favor. You see, a big issue with Harley’s previous outing, Suicide Squad, is that the mission was way too high stakes despite the cast featuring a group of people who didn’t really have any powers beyond “fighting really good.” or “has weapon skills.” You’re telling me you’re gonna put Harley Quinn, Deadshot, and Captain Boomerang up against Enchantress and her army of ancient Aztec super-zombies? WHAT? Here, we have a street-level threat much more suited to Harley’s capabilities: Roman is just a very powerful gangster, and his goal in this movie is the simple “get this diamond that was stolen back to me so I can make fat stacks of cash.” That’s really all their needs to be here, a simple MacGuffin to drive along the plot to its various setpieces.

Performance: I love Ewan McGregor, so, really, he didn’t have to do much with the role of Roman Sionis to make him great. Still, this man went above and beyond despite having comparatively little screentime to Harley. Roman seems incapable of going a single sentence without cursing up a storm and is the epitome of a psychopathic manchild, tormenting people for the slightest of reasons. He forces a woman to strip and dance on one of his tables because she was laughing too loud when he was upset, and decides not to spare a girl’s life because she had a gross snot bubble on her face from sobbing while he had his crony Zsasz peel off her parents’ faces. As funny and hammy as he gets, the dude is a stone-cold ruthless bastard who has no line he won’t cross to get what he wants.

Final Fate: Cass hides a grenade on him and steals the ring, and then Harley kicks him off the pier while he panics. Before he even hits the water, BOOM! Never would I have expected to laugh out loud at the sight of Ewan McGregor being blown into bits, but this movie was just full of surprises.

Best Scene: I think that the honor has to go to his establishing character moment with Zsasz, as they cut off the faces of a family who crossed Roman, and then when Roman decides to spare the daughter, he notices snot on her face, says “Ew” like a petulant child, and has Zsasz cut her face off anyway. It’s a great way to establish that Roman is an awful human being no matter how you slice it, and firmly establishes that while, yes, he is a misogynist villain in a female-led blockbuster, his misogyny is just a tiny facet of how unabashedly terrible Roman is.

Final Thoughts & Score: So, this is gonna sound weird, but… Roman kinda reminded me of Justin Hammer. Hammer is a villain who I have greatly warmed to over time (mostly thanks to Nando V Movies on YouTube), to the point where I think he’s actually pretty funny but is held back from true greatness by the sloppy nature of Iron Man 2. The film was big, bloated, and didn’t know what to do with itself. And this film is KIND OF like that… but it knows what to do with Roman.

The movie has an undercurrent of female empowerment, so why not make the villain emblematic of things women have to overcome? Roman is creepy, misogynistic, and even a bit racist especially with his condescending actions towards Dinah. And he even throws a fit when she “betrays” him and decides to murder her. But the movie is smart so as to not make this hamfisted; the movie makes it entirely clear that even if you take away his misogynistic elements, Roman Sionis is just an utterly disgusting human being. Everything about him is just so hilariously vulgar and repulsive, but the way he’s performed helps lighten it and help keep him within the tone of the movie. He’s just dark enough and just hammy enough to work.

My big issues with Roman are mostly due to his utilization and the wasted potential, which is a problem that really hits a lot of stuff in Birds of Prey. He is great every time he’s onscreen, but his screentime is fairly limited, and then he dies at the end which robs him of any chance of coming back in the future as an antagonist. He actually functions great as a more grounded threat rather than some larger-than-life end of the world threat, but the fact he dies horribly – before even having his mask burned onto his face, even! - just kind of feels like a waste of a character. To be fair, Black Mask is not the best or most interesting Batman villain crime lord; we have the Penguin for that. But when you cast  someone like Ewan McGregor and he’s clearly having a blast, it’s hard not to feel at least slightly bitter when he gets hilariously gibbed at the end.

Still, I can’t let Justin Hammer’s sacrifice go in vain; he walked so Roman could run, and Roman ran so that perhaps someday Hammer could sprint. Roman gets a nice, fat 8/10, which he definitely earns with the heaping helpings of ham he brings to the table, though he is held back at least a little by the wasted potential of his character.

But hey, if you want to talk about wasted potential…

Psycho Analysis: Victor Zsasz

I really like Victor Zsasz in this film. I really do. The angle they went with, the implied homosexuality, the actor… it’s all good stuff that helps make a disturbing character like Zsasz easier to swallow. But he gets hit with wasted potential harder than even Roman does.

Motivation/Goals: He’s Roman’s right-hand man, so basically his motivation is to do whatever Roman wants him to do. However, there is a bit of an implied thing between his boss and him; Zsasz seems undeniably irritated with the attention he lavishes on Dinah, and is very hands-on and affectionate with his boss. A lot of his later actions in the film and his cruelty towards Dinah does seem to stem from some place of anger towards her for taking Roman’s attention away from him.

Performance: I have to say, Chris Messina does a stellar job at portraying Zsasz as creepy and obsessive, and certainly showcases the fanatical loyalty he has towards Roman, making him something of a dark mirror to Harley’s former relationship with the Joker. I also appreciate that, despite not going with Zsasz’s original psychotic serial killer angle, they still made him a bloodthirsty psycho with a sort of nihilistic edge to him. Frankly, this might be the best possible take on a live-action Zsasz without things getting intensely uncomfortable.

Final Fate: This is probably the worst element of Zsasz: his death. Right before the climax he gets shot out of the blue by Huntress and then Harley just repeatedly stabs him with the arrow. And I have to make it clear here – Zsasz barely got to do anything. He never really poses any sort of physical threats to the heroines, never gets into a fight, and is never mentioned again after his death despite being very close to Roman (to the point where the two may have been lovers).

Final Thoughts & Score: As far as henchmen go, Zsasz is pretty solid conceptually. He’s established early on as a psychopathic enforcer of Roman’s gang, he has an eerie air to him, and he has a lot of elements from the comics you rarely see on Zsasz in other media, such as being blonde. Messina does a fantastic job at making the character seem like a competent killer in the employ of Roman.

But the key word is “seem,” because Zsasz frankly never lives up to his hype. Despite being introduced peeling the faces off of a family, he is just never utilized to his fullest extent. He’s kind of just there in a lot of scenes, and while he isn’t unmemorable or anything he never really does anything that makes him into a worthwhile addition to the franchise. He’s honestly just a glorified mook with a few interesting gimmicks to help set him apart.

I’ve gotta give him a 6/10. While he’s definitely a step above average, he’s really not anything amazing, mostly because the movie refuses to allow him to reach his full potential. He doesn’t have any great quotes, his most memorable scene really serves more to establish Roman than anything, and he is dumped and quickly forgotten right before the climax. He would easily be a 7 or 8 if the story treated him with a little more weight or respect, but he just ends up underwhelming despite having so much going for him, and it’s frankly a bit depressing. It’s just a very sad state of affairs for the character, especially when he managed to be more intimidating in the Arkham games despite the fact that he posed even less of a physical threat than he does here.

Well, while we’re here, let’s go over THAT Zsasz briefly.

Portrayed in the games by Danny Jacobs (who you may know as Sacha Baron Cohen's stand in on The Penguins of Madagascar. Yes, Zsasz and King Julien had the same voice actor.), Zsasz is never really a major antagonist and is, in all honesty, a pretty weak fighter; you can always take him down in one punch. The thing with Zsasz in the games, though, is that it’s always tricky to get to him, because he usually has hostages of some kind. In Arkham Asylum, he appears twice, and you need to use stealth to take him out before he kills his hostages. In City, he gets a much longer sidequest where he requires you to pick up ringing telephones and then glide to another one across the city within a time limit. Once you’ve listened to all of his messages, Batman finds out where his lair is, sneaks through it, and whoops his ass.

I certainly can’t say he’s the best villain in either game he appears in, but he’s definitely scary. His messages and game over screens are really freaky and unnerving, and the Riddler even requires you to find some of Zsasz’s work as parts of riddles… and by “work” I am of course referring to corpses posed in life-like positions. There’s also the horrifying little tidbit that in City, Zsasz actually does kill one of his hostages and there’s nothing that can be done about it; if you switch to detective mode in his lair, you can see a corpse at the bottom of the water in the room.

I think how creepy and intense he is really helps make him stand out among the more colorful characters in those games like Joker, Clayface, and Riddler, so I think giving him a nice 8/10 for his appearances is well-earned. I feel like Birds of Prey could have learned a few lessons from this portrayal; if they wanted to make him more creepy than physically intimidating, that could have worked well and it would have made his anti-climactic defeat a bit more plausible. Instead, they kind of tried this middle ground where he’s creepy enough and intimidating enough physically that it just feels like a letdown when he’s offed.

Oh yeah, did you know he appeared in Batman Begins? He had a brief cameo and didn’t do anything significant and looked like this:

Pretty sure he’d get a low score if he wasn’t just a quick little reference.

[unpack-my-heart]

Sometimes I Have Everything (Yet I Wish I Felt Something)

Eddie Kaspbrak, pick-pocket turned international art thief and self-diagnosed lone wolf meets Richie Tozier, eager amateur, who just can't seem to catch a break

Read on AO3 HERE

@constantreaderfool @xandertheundead @eds-trashmouth @tinyarmedtrex @violetreddie @moonlightrichie @fuzzylogik

“You’ve got exactly four minutes before security will be able to get the camera back online, Eddie”

“Got it”

“Are you sure? Because it certainly doesn’t seem like you’ve got it. You should have been out of there five minutes –”

“I said I’ve fuckin’ got it, so I’ve fuckin’ got it, lay off”

The painting was heavier than he’d anticipated. He had done all the calculations, had sat up well into the night, eyelids drooping, plugging numbers into his dusty calculator, making sure that he would be able to wrench Ophelia from her golden frame without the need for anyone else to enter the gallery.

But he was wrong. The painting was at least two kilograms heavier than his calculations had suggested, and he knew that the excess weight would throw his balance off when Mike finally set the crankshaft off, and he and the painting would begin to ascend through the skylight attached to nothing but two snaking cables.

Not that he’d admit it to Stan, who was now gnashing his teeth in Eddie’s ear, hissing something about how four minutes had now become three minutes which was now two minutes, and Jesus Christ, Eddie, hurry the fuck up, but he had started to panic. His knife was too blunt to cut through the thick material of the canvas on the first try, and it whined and squeaked as he jabbed it into the matte material. A rookie mistake. He resorted to sawing instead of slicing, jerky aborted movements instead of one elegant flick of the wrist. His heart hammered against his ribcage, a brutal thumping that echoed in his ears, drowning out the suspicious silence of the gallery. Suddenly, half way through a particularly aggressive sawing motion, Eddie’s knife slipped, and instead of letting it gore a hole in the flesh of the painting, Eddie instinctively jammed his thumb in the way. The blade bit into the soft flesh, and blood immediately started oozing out of the neat gash.

"Motherfucker!"

He’d only ever sliced through one painting before. It was a Seurat. La Mer à Grandcamp, Bill had told him, The Sea at Grandcamp. Eddie remembers the tiny little sea-boats bobbing on the murky water, masts reaching out towards the sky, disappearing into the cloud, and he’d sliced right through the center of one of them when Stan had made him jump, voice static in his earpiece. In his panic, he’d wrenched the painting from its frame, turning the small slash into a gaping open wound, before he shoved the injured painting into his bag, crumpled and unsellable. Bill had yelled at him, and Eddie had stood and taken it, tail between his legs.

“Eddie, Eddie seriously, you gotta move, you really gotta move, Mike’s gonna start the winch in 30 seconds whether you’ve got the damn painting or not,” Stan demanded, voice cutting through the silence, dragging Eddie out of his introspection and back into the present.

One cautious tug later, and the canvas came away from the frame. Eddie screwed up his face in anticipation of the alarm that never rings but always could. It didn't ring. He held the painting at arm’s length, eyes dancing along the swooping lines, following the flow of the river, before finally landing on Ophelia’s face.

“She’s beautiful”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s a real peach. Mike’s gonna start the winch, are you ready?”

“Ready”

Silently, like a heron taking flight, Eddie’s feet floated up off the floor. The canvas sat leaden and heavy in the vice-grip of his arms, and, as predicted, Mike’s voice filtered through his ear-piece.

“There’s too much weight”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say, Mikey”

“The painting, I mean. It’s too heavy, your calculations must have been wrong. I don’t know if this configuration is gonna hold you”

“We’ll soon find out”

A metallic whining sound filtered down from the skylight, and Eddie braced himself for a fifty foot fall.

The fall never came. What came instead were strong arms, the tell-tale sound of the winch clicking off, and Eddie and the canvas were dragged onto the roof by a vaguely sweaty and very panicked looking Mike.

“I honestly thought I’d be scraping you off the gallery floor,” Mike laughed, but his voice was laced with something serious.

He’d only done a few runs with Mike. He normally worked with Bill, who took risks and was almost always on the receiving end of Stan’s wrath for something or other. Mike didn’t take risks. Mike was methodical, Mike was reliable. Mike never left Eddie stranded in the middle of a strangers house in Iceland, two paintings under each arm and unable to open the door to escape, whilst he pillaged the wine cellar for a particular vintage red he’d been hankering for. Eddie much preferred working with Mike.

“Bev’s already sent over the details of the next job. It’s in a small downtown gallery, and you’re going in through the door and not the ceiling so it should be an easier run than this one,” Mike said, busying himself with dismantling the winch.

Eddie sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, before pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough that he saw constellations whirling in the dark behind his eyelids.

“When?”

“Tuesday”

“Today is Monday”

“… So tomorrow, then”

“For fucks sake!”

Everything Eddie Kaspbrak knew about art, he’d learnt from stealing it. He knew how to recognise where the layers of paint were the thinnest, how to cut into thick, chalky canvas, how he could slough the painting from its frame without damaging either, and how he should store a painting properly, so that it didn’t get marked by the sun or covered in a thin layer of dust. His own artistic talent extended to stick figures and no further, but he was now able to identify a Monet from a mile away, and he was able to pick a genuine Pollock from a pile of fakes.

He’d been head-hunted for this job. A petty thief from downtown New York, Eddie hadn’t expected to ascend to the lofty heights of international art thief before the age of thirty, but when he’d run into Stan on the corner of Canal Street, pocket bulging, full of stolen wallets, Stan had taken one look at him and dragged him into his jeep. Eddie had put up a fight, punching and kicking and swearing at the stern faced man he’d assumed was a cop, but Stan had locked the car doors and turned in his seat to face Eddie.

“You stole five wallets in less than ten minutes”

“No I didn’t”

“You did. I was watching you. You practically took that last one out of that man’s hand and he didn’t see you. You were right in front of his face, and he all but let you take it,” Stan had said, voice almost reverent, impressed.

“What can I say, I’m an artist,” Eddie had spat, hackles up and snarling.

“Do you just steal wallets, then?” Stan had said, voice light, light enough to almost be a laugh and it nurtured rage in Eddie’s stomach.

“Look, I haven’t got time for this cat and mouse shit. Either arrest me, charge me, take me downtown or whatever the fuck it is you need to do, or let me go. I’m not gonna suck your dick or anything”

“Feisty little street urchin aren’t we. I’m not a cop. Far from it, actually. I’m … I relieve art galleries and private collectors of their surplus inventory,” Stan had announced, smiling as if he’d told a joke that he expected Eddie to understand.

“So you’re an art thief?” Eddie supplied after a long pause. Stan nodded, raising his eyebrows at Eddie, almost impressed.

“Sort of. I don’t do the stealing. We have a guy for that, but he’s no good. He makes too many mistakes, and he’s not quick enough. We need someone else”

“… Me?”

“I hope so”

“So lemme get this straight, I’ve just been headhunted for a formidable career as an art thief?” Eddie said, incredulous.

“You could put it like that. We offer a great salary and some truly excellent perks”

“Do art thieves get a pension?” Eddie asked sardonically, but Stan didn’t take the bait.

“But of course!”

“This is fucking insane. I don’t even know your name and you’re asking me to steal art for you. How can I be sure you’re not a cop?”

“I’ve got a Picasso in the trunk of my car,” Stan said, grinning knowingly as if that’d explain everything. It explained nothing.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Stan sighed, and waved dismissively at Eddie, “it should mean something to you. It will mean something to you, soon. That is, if you take me up on my very lucrative offer. You’ve got thirty seconds before I turf you out of my car and send you back to your sad little life stealing pocket-change from people no richer than yourself”

Eddie stared at Stan, holding eye-contact for longer than necessary, challenging him to look away, to look towards the ceiling or the floor, but he didn’t. Stan held Eddie’s gaze steadily, and bared his teeth in a wolfish grin.

“Fine, but I know fuckin’ nothing about art”

The Tuesday job certainly seems easier than the Monday job, at least on paper. The gallery was small, much smaller than the ones they usually hit. It only had one entrance, which also doubled up as its only exit. There was a fire-escape, and several wall to ceiling windows, but other than that, the building was entirely secure with no other entry points. Ben composed a digital blueprint of the building, and managed to take control of the security system without much effort. He watched the security tapes of the night before every morning for a week, and plotted out the lone security guards monitoring route. The guard seemed follow the same route, like clock-work, each night, which made their job a whole lot easier. Bill reasoned that it shouldn’t be too hard to evade him, and began plotting their route through the gallery to the object of their desires.

The painting they’re going after was called Ignis. It’s a mass of orange and red, different hues and shades bleeding into each other, an abstract mess that gave Eddie a headache. Bev seemed to like it, though, and she told them all with a smug smile that the artist, a young German man, was anticipated to become one of the best-selling artists of the decade.

They made a plan. Stan, Ben and Bev were to stay behind, as usual. They were useless on the floor, and readily admit as much. Ben stayed behind to remotely monitor the security system, and Stan stayed behind to act as surveillance, to stay connected to Eddie constantly through his earpiece. Eddie, Bill and Mike set off in the blacked out van, arriving at the gallery at ten minutes past three in the morning. There was another van in the parking lot, white and unmarked. They all clambered out of the van, and wordlessly split up. Ben had remotely deactivated the security shutters on the fire escape, so Eddie managed to slip through the door silently and undetected. He went in alone, as he always did, having refused from day one to work with anyone else, despite Stan's initial protests. Bill stayed with the van, and Mike hovered around the exit, connected to Eddie via their earpieces. He’d be ready to rush in if he had to, if Eddie found himself in trouble, but thus far, he'd never had to.

The gallery was silent, and security lights flashed red and foreboding in the darkness. Pulling his balaclava over his face, Eddie began to tip-toe towards the rear exhibition suite.

He had taken three cautious steps into the room before he spotted the other person in the room.

There was a figure, clad in dark green camouflage, tugging hopelessly at the very painting that Eddie had come to liberate (Stan’s word). The figure didn't hear Eddie stalk into the room, didn't hear Eddie as he strafed along the wall, didn't hear Eddie sidle up next to him. It took a full forty-five seconds for the stranger to notice Eddie standing next to him, and when he did, he screamed.

“FUCK!”

Eddie slammed a palm over the mouth of the screaming stranger.

“Shut the fuck up or you’ll get us both caught,” Eddie hissed, hand still clamped over the strangers mouth.

The stranger looked up at him with eyes as wide as dinner plates from behind thick rimmed red glasses. Once Eddie’s sure that they won't make any more noise, he let the stranger go.

“Dude, that fuckin’ hurt,” The stranger moaned, and rubbed a hand over his chin. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Stealing the painting,” Eddie says, plainly.

“Not just a pretty face then,” the stranger drawled, and it takes every bit of Eddie’s self-control not to sock him in the arm.

Eddie sighed instead. “You can’t see my face”

“Naw, but I can see your eyes”

Stupidly, Eddie chokes on his tongue, caught off-guard. He splutters, just wordless noise, and the stranger laughs at him.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck off. Why are you stealing this painting?”

The stranger shrugged, “I was told to. Boss wants it, and what the boss wants the boss gets”

“Who’s your boss?” Eddie asked, as he pushed past the stranger before he stepped over the velvet rope cordoning off the painting from the rest of the room. The stranger followed, forcing himself between Eddie and the painting.

“No can do. That information’s classified. What are you doing here? You’re not a cop, are you?”

“Do I look like a cop?” Eddie deadpanned, gesturing to himself. He was wearing his black neoprene bodysuit, the very same bodysuit that Bev affectionately called his catsuit.

“No, you look like you’re going surfing, what is that? A wetsuit? It doesn’t leave much to the imagination, if you know what I’m saying”

“Fuck off, at least I blend into the darkness. Camouflage doesn’t work when you’re not in the jungle, moron”

The strangers face turned pink under Eddie’s scrutiny, and he turned around, and continued trying to wrench the painting off the wall without another word. Eddie tried to grab his bicep, but the stranger shrugged him off.

“Stop, fucking stop! You’re pulling at it too hard, you’re going to set off the –”

As if on cue, the alarm roared to life, screaming into the silence.

“… fucking SHIT!” Eddie yelled, not tempering his voice, before he scrambled straight towards the back window, the one that Ben had identified as his emergency escape route. He’d never had to use his pre-planned emergency escape route before, and he internally cursed this stranger for breaking his streak of good fortune.

Before he could throw himself through the window, glass be damned, Eddie glanced back over his shoulder. The stranger hadn’t moved. He was still standing with his hands on the painting, face white as a sheet of marble. He was shaking so violently that Eddie could see his knees knock together, a sight that would have been funny if Eddie hadn't have been sure that any second now the police would have charged through the door to arrest them both. He made the decision instantly, almost passively.

“YOU!”

The stranger looked up at him, wide eyed and terrified.

“Fucking follow me, MOVE!”

The stranger sprung into action instantly, abandoning the painting that was now hanging onto the wall by only one corner, and scrambled over to the window where Eddie was standing.

“Cover your face,” Eddie demanded, before he kicked the window with all of his might, sending shards of glass raining down on them like snowflakes, twinkling in the moonlight.

Eddie crawled through the window, wincing as a jagged piece of glass caught his hand, and briefly debated sprinting off in the direction of the van, before extending an arm back through the window.

“Take my hand!”

The stranger grabbed Eddie’s hand, pulling himself through the shallow tunnel of jagged glass. They both took off in a sprint, Eddie’s heart beating a brutal rhythm in his ear. Eddie lead them in the direction of the alleyway that they had previously agreed Bill would move the van to if any alarms sounded, and as soon as they had rounded the corner, Mike threw the backdoor open, and both Eddie and the stranger all but fell into the back of the van.

“DRIVE!” Mike yelled, and, with Bill at the wheel, the van skidded out of the alleyway, tires screeching violently.

For the first time in over an hour, Eddie closed his eyes, and let himself breathe. The illusion of calm only lasted for three seconds, however, because Mike almost immediately jabbed him in the shoulder.

“Eddie, who the fuck is this?!” Mike said, gesturing wildly at the stranger, who was sat hunched in the corner of the van, head between his hands. Eddie watched him, vaguely concerned that he was going to be sick everywhere. He nudged a discarded bucket closer with his foot, as discretely as he could manage.

“It’s a crazy fuckin’ story, Mikey, you ready?”

“Just tell me, Eddie, Jesus”

“He was trying to steal Ignis”

“… No way”

“Yes way. I walked in, stealthy as a fuckin’ cat, and there he was, all dressed up in camo like he’s off hunting or something, trying to haul the canvas out of the frame without having cut it first”

“Who does he work for?” Mike asked, sending the stranger a concerned look. The stranger either didn't notice or didn't care, head still between his hands, face still suspiciously pale.

“He won’t tell me. Says he’s got a boss, though, so we know it isn’t just him.”

Mike shifted in the van, clambering over the center console to sit shotgun next to Bill, who was practically red in the face. Eddie carefully decided not to engage him in conversation, and instead crawled across the van so he was sat next to the stranger.

“What’s your name? I’m Eddie, that’s Mike and Bill’s driving”

“Richie,” the stranger – Richie – supplied, in a voice that was much steadier and more even than Eddie had anticipated.

“So, Richie, where are we dropping you?”

“52 Portland Street. Do you know it?”

“I’m sure Bill can get us there, right Bill?”

“Sure,” Bill supplied in a curt, snippy tone but Eddie counted it as a win that he spoke at all.

“I can’t believe I almost got caught” Richie said, and Eddie laughed.

“Yeah, you were giving that frame a real good tug. Have you done this before?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“No”

Richie doesn’t say anything, but he looks up at Eddie and winks.

Now they’re not in the gallery, and Richie’s face is bathed in the soft glow of the torch they rigged up in the van to serve as a light source, Eddie felt something mimicking attraction stir in the pit of his stomach. Richie’s face was angular, sharp lines and pointed tips, and his hair was swept off his face with a bandana that should have looked absurd but somehow didn't. Eddie thought idly that he’d seen this face before, in a portrait perhaps, or painted in the sunset when the sun hung heavy and bloated just above the horizon.

Richie’s looked back at him, eyes softer than they’d been before, and maybe they were also a little damp, because they were shining in the torchlight, and Eddie forced himself to look away.

Richie huffed, an annoyed little noise that Eddie is sure he wasn’t supposed to hear, but he did. He realised three beats too late that his body was entirely angled towards Richie, toes to shoulders. He tried not to think about what that might mean.

Then they were pulling into Portland Street, and it was too soon, Eddie told himself that it’s because he wants to quiz Richie about his boss, but he knew it was a lie.

“I have actually done this before, you know. I’m just – that one threw me off. I’ve never done paintings before, I’ve always been on sculptures and small paraphernalia, you know. Jugs and vases and shit. The painting guy got … well, he quit. So that’s me now. The new painting guy”

“He quit?” Eddie parrots back, shooting Richie a sceptical look, but Richie just shrugs.

“S’what I was told. So are you guys a team or something?”

“Or something,” Bill said before Eddie can speak, and then he’s pulling the van into park, and switching off the engine. “Portland street”

“Thanks, Big Bill!” Richie beamed, earning a scowl from Bill for his trouble.

Swinging the door of the van open, Richie hopped out. “Care to walk me to my door, Eddie?”

“Naw, too comfy,” Eddie joked, but he hopped out of the van anyway.

They walked slowly up the path to Richie’s door, in a bizarrely comfortable silence.

“Are you really not going to tell me who your boss is?” Eddie asks, pushing his luck.

“Nope. I would, but I can’t. Don’t wanna wake up with a horse’s head in my bed or some shit”

“You are joking, right?”

“Honestly? I have no idea. Wouldn’t put it past him, I suppose”

“Richie … are you safe?” Eddie faltered, after several seconds of silence.

“Safe? Uh... How safe are any of us, Eds? You do realise that we break the law on a regular fuckin’ basis right?”

“You know what I mean, jack-ass. Serves me right for giving a damn about you, I suppose”

“You give a damn about me?”

“About as much as someone can give a damn about a dumbass stranger,” Eddie shot back, but he was smiling, and Richie was smiling too, a dorky sort of grin that reminded Eddie of the sun.

“I’m touched, Eddie, truly. I’m safe. I’m safe enough. I won’t be doing this forever, anyway. Not exactly a career with long-term progression goals,” Richie said, as he leant against his front door with one shoulder.

“I’m gonna head off, then," Eddie said, and gestured to the van over his shoulder with his thumb, "next time, use a damn knife and cut the canvas out of the frame”

“You got it, chief!”

“Eddie! Hurry the fuck up” Bill yelled from the van, and Eddie groaned.

“See you, Richie. Stay out of trouble!”

Eddie jogged back to the van, hopping inside the open back door.

“So who’s your new best friend?” Bill asked bluntly.

“It’s not like that, I was just trying to get information about his boss,” Eddie replied, defensively, “and anyway, I didn’t manage to convince him to tell me anything so it doesn’t matter now”

“You were looking awful chummy walking up to his house is all I’m saying”

“Well maybe your visions clouded with all the steam rising from your very red face”

“Stop being so fucking childish –”

“Look, we’re all pissed that tonight didn’t work out,” Mike interjected, “but shall we try and not bite each other’s heads off before we arrive back at base?”

Bill put the van in gear, and drove away from Richie’s house without another word.

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

A Terrifying Tempest  ——————————————

Things weren’t always peachy in Roo’s early days. Aiden’s out of the house, and our favorite little paint cat comes head to head with something he’s never seen before. It’s more than a little scary.

This is a two part chapter! The first part is here!

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

——————————————

oh? two chapters in two days? what am i, some sorta competent??? nah, i’m just riding on a wave of productivity. Happy to have this one out tho!!! ‘s about time i finished this ;w;

enjoy some fun times with roo and his feral form, y’all ;3

WARNING FOR BODY HORROR! if that’s not your deal, skip what’s between these ( ~~~ ) and keep readin!!!

                                                      ————

Rain hammered against the villagers’ roofs. Thousands of its tiny droplets pounded against soaking wood. Lightning slashed through the sky, leaving jagged wounds of light against the ashy clouds. They vanished as soon as they’d come. Thunder roared deafeningly, like some monstrously angry beast. The wind howled back in fury. In the void-like darkness of the night, there were only a handful of people out, trying futilley to prevent the storm’s damage. All else stayed huddled in their dark houses. There was only one thing to do in a storm such as this. Wait it out. And hope that your fear didn’t invite it inside. For some, this was a feat greater than the squall. For some, the tempest outside was much more than a storm. For some… it was a nightmare.

                                                     ————

Thoughts swirled around in Roo’s head. The thunder outside threatened to drown them out, but they hissed louder in protest. He trembled fiercely as he dug under the blankets on Aiden’s bed. No matter how much of his paint stained them, they were safe, right? He was safe there, right? Right? The little cat curled himself into a tighter ball. His ears pressed against his head, eyes squeezed shut. Why hadn't his originator come home yet? Had something gone wrong outside? Where was he? It was so dark, so loud, so horribly nerve-wracking. Where was he?! He desperately scrambled to calm his rising panic. It was like trying to stop the tide from coming in. Sooner or later, there’s nothing you can do to stop it. No matter how hard you hold on, there’s bound to be a swell that sweeps you away. Unfortunately, the water was getting higher. And Roo didn’t know how to swim. Wh-what’m I suh-supposed teh do? He whimpered, paws over his ears. Aiden’s not- h-he’s not h-heah- Move. Wh... what? The sudden impulse- no, urge- nearly brought his fear to a halt. Where had that come from? … For the first time, the cat realized his chest felt much too tight.  His anxiety trickled back like a creek before a flood, bringing violent shivers with it. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all. Get out. Run. His breathing picked up as he glanced around. Paint spattered blankets and darkness surrounded him. Where could he go? Where could he get to? Aiden- Aiden said he couldn’t leave the house right now- he couldn’t get out anyways! Have to go. Have to go right now. He couldn’t get enough air. Were the blankets starting to curl closer? He grit his teeth, baring tiny desperate fangs at the darkness. B-but where? I don’ know where i could- Go! NOW! GET OUT! The kitten pawed at his head, cringing at the claws that sliced through his fur. Why wouldn’t it stop?! W-where do I go I’ve got nowhere to go I c-can’t- I can’t! GET OUT OF HERE! Panicky whimpers started bubbling up from his maw, his fur following suit. It felt like his whole body was boiling. As if something was building- expanding- rising- like the ocean before a tsunami. W-why was he- what was he- wh- What’s happenin to me?! Where’m I supposed to go?! I’m- I’M STUCK! THERE’S NO WAY OUTTA HEAH-! NEED TO GO GO GO GO NOW RUN- The cacophony of wailing instincts and fear and terror was too much- too much- too much bad bad stop sTOP STOP I CAN’T I CAN’T I C-CA-HAN’T-

Roo felt something inside of him give a horrible, splintering snap. Everything suddenly stopped. It was just… silent. Numb. Jarringly disconnected.  But only for a moment.  Everything came crashing back down with a vengeance.

~~~

The little kitten let out a frightful cry as pain surged down its spine. Bubbles popped and roiled across its fur. It felt like the horrible flashes outside had come in- latched onto it- sent white hot tingling down all its limbs- the familiar thrashed about under the covers, just trying to get free. It’s head was a whirlwind of shrieking and agony. Nothing was processing besides pure panic. At least, not mentally. Magic was already at work. The kitten’s limbs began to stretch like taffy. It felt as if boiling lava was pouring all over it. Malleable and impossibly bendy, it’s arms and legs quickly stiffened into steely rods of bone. What began as tiny paws started sharpening into wicked claws. Each digit practically had a sickle attached to it- all the better to rend things in its path. Fiery limbs and flailing claws tore at the sheets desperately, hoarse gasps accompanying the ripping of fabric. A round of crackling sounded off from its back, and it shrieked again. It bucked and thrashed as the line of bones lengthened, making a stubby tail long and an aching body longer. The rest of its form was struggling to play catch-up. Ribs pushed out against skin, vertebrae poking up in a garish path towards its head, all the growth making a skeletal nightmare out of the once-fluffy kitten. From the crunch of its muzzle, it was clear that its skull had some reshaping to do. It’s screams were muffled now, but slipped out with increasing fervor. A stubby snout morphed into a slavering muzzle, baby teeth gnashing into deadly fangs. Big ears were shoved flat against its head, paint dripping down in a waterfall over ringed orange eyes. The blindness only stoked its terror higher. The thrashing became horribly violent, dumping the familiar off the bed and onto the floor. Shreds of the sheets clung to razor claws as it howled in pain. And just when it seemed things couldn’t get any worse... … The familiar’s form began shifting. Getting bigger. Taller. Swelling from an already-stretched foot and a half of agonized cat to a five foot horror panther. And all it could do was roar.

~~~

                                                       ————

“There’s too much water coming in-!” “We don’t have enough lumber left for this-!” “We’ve just got to give it up and move people until the storm dies down-!” Shouts like these were barely heard above the deafening pounding of rain and thunder. The storm had come up so suddenly that a family’s roof caved in. Too much water, not enough time to put up spells. Aiden had been laboring alongside three other questors to get it fixed for hours- all to no avail. No matter what they tried to do, their magic sputtered out in the rain. The work just left them all shivering and upset. And, for whatever reason, Aiden was feeling sore. His chest in particular was bothering him. The more time he’d spent working, the more it was bugging him. He’d chalked it up to his lack of training as of late. Either way, it’d gotten bad enough that he needed a break. The questor took a moment to breathe, setting down a large wooden board. It was as soaked as he was, if not more so. Not the best for building at all. He sighed in frustration, swiping bits of loose hair off his face. He grimaced as his sopping hair stuck to his hands. Evidently, his waterproof cloak hadn’t helped. Revaew. This was horrible. As much as he liked water, he hated being drenched like this. They weren’t making any progress here. Looking to his companions, he opened his mouth to suggest they give it a rest- Only for a deafening roar to cut him off. Blue mist flared to life on his fists before he knew what he was doing, gaze instantly searching for the source. He couldn’t see anything through the driving rain, and hearing? He might as well have been underwater. What was that? Was it a monster coming into town? Now, of all times? A look at his companions yielded just as much confusion. “The hell was that?!” One of them shouted over the rain. “No clue!” Aiden called back. “Whatever it was, it sounds big and mad!” “Should we send someone over to check it out?!” Another yelled, gesturing towards the source of the noise. “Probably!” Aiden spoke up again, following their gesture. Was it on the same side of town as his house...? “Someone’s gotta take care of it before anythi-“ Another roar rang out through the rain. It was a horrid, desperate sound. A zing of pain tore through Aiden’s chest, stealing his words as much as the sound. He grimaced, gasping. What in revaew’s web was going- It was then that something clicked. The chest pain. In the middle of a storm. More work meant more time away from his familiar. His familiar, who got stressed when he… left… Oh. Oh no. The questor didn’t wait another second to process. He was off like a shot. Yelling an apology over his shoulder, he dead sprinted over the wet stone path. Puddles splashed freezing water all over him. From the way his boots slid with every step, it was a miracle he didn’t fall. The thump of his belt pouch on his hip was practically promising to leave bruises. But he didn’t care. All he could think about was getting back to his familiar. The third roar just made him pick up his pace. Dark house after dark house slipped by as he wove his way through the village. His place was on the edge.  For the first time since he’d moved here, he regretted picking a house so removed from the main square.

As aiden ran the final stretch to his cottage, the squelch of mud beneath his boots had never sounded sweeter. He was drenched, dirt splattered, and had a nasty scratch from bashing his arm into a mailbox, but he was almost there. Rather unfortunate that the sight of his home didn’t have the same effect. The windows were dark and empty. The next roar was so much louder now. In a flash of lighting, he could see something big zip past the glass. Oh Revaew- was that Roo? His chest was already aching, but it was downright painful now. Putting on one last burst of speed, he made it to the door before thunder started to rumble. The questor nearly slammed into it, gasping. Thanks to a short overhang over the door, he was out of the rain. … And in more than a little pain. His lungs heaved desperately. His legs were on fire. His bruised hip and scratched up arm were throbbing. His head, too, had decided to ache. Sure, he was here. But at what cost?  Maybe running that fast was a bad idea, he thought dully. However. It had gotten him there. And the mad dash was over. All he had to worry about now was getting inside. Adrenaline starting to wind down, he pressed an ear against the door. He could make out anxious yowling under the sounds of the storm. He flinched at a dull crash and thunk, grimacing at the accompanying cries. Yeah, he needed in. He needed in before Roo hurt himself. If he hasn’t already, he thought fearfully. Waving a hand from his head towards his feet, he muttered a quick spell. Water came rushing off him in waves. It sent a violent chill down his spine, but at least he wasn’t wet. After all, he wouldn’t be able to touch his son if he had rain clinging to him. Slowly, he took one more breath. He faced the door. A little grumble of thunder roiled across the land as he stared at the damp wood. One last hurdle to clear. His hand raised to take the handle. I’m here, Roo. With a soft click, the door slowly swung open. I’m home.

Everything was loud. Cold. Dark. So, so dark. No matter how many times it tried turning its head, how many directions it looked, everything was dark. It felt like it was suffocating. The loud rumbling and crashing wasn’t helping at all. The thundering of rain was grating on its ears. It couldn’t stay here. Lashing out, it roared again and again. Pleading- begging someone to come help. All that met it was pain as its paws and tail snagged on unseen assailants. They were everywhere! All around it! There was no way to run from them. And it tried. Oh, how it tried. It kept bashing into invisible walls. Smashing into obstacles. Roaring and thrashing and scrambling around in the dark. Slipping desperately into a new space, only to bash into something else. An unending nightmare with deafening sound. … Until something new cut through the cacophony. A creak. Long and soft, bringing a freezing draft with it. It froze, back arched. Fangs bared. Low yowls drifting from its maw. Smells tickled at its nose, but it was too worked up to identify them. All it knew was something had just walked in the door.

Aiden’s eyes widened in shock. Hand trailing to his face, he just… stared. He hadn’t known what to expect. Even with his memories of feral familiars, even after the pain in his chest, even after the shadows and yowls from inside the house… he had no idea. But he knew, instantly, what was standing in the darkness of his house. Or, more accurately… who. Roo. The questor stood silently in the doorway, across the room from a five foot long panther. Paint dripped steadily from every part of it, leaving streaks and puddles on the floor. Mangy fur stood anxiously on end. Fearful breaths hitched through deadly jaws. Though its eyes were covered in a waterfall of indigo, Aiden knew its gaze was on him. He didn’t know if he could move. The panther wasn’t budging either. They seemed to be at a standoff. But how long would this last? Minutes? Hours? Seconds? Someone’s gotta make the first move, Aiden thought grimly. Might as well be me. Holding his breath, he took a hesitant step forward. The panther’s ears flicked towards him. It curled its lips a bit higher, tail twitching. Aiden paused. Okay. One step at a time, then. Slowly spreading his hands, he tried for some words. “... hey roo. I’m back,” Aiden called softly. Where the step set the panther on edge, the voice received a warning yowl. Its spine curved higher, claws digging into the wooden floor. It looked like a skeletal fluffball with how much fur was puffing up. Aiden tried not to flinch. He just stood his ground. If he was gonna get through to Roo, he had to keep going. “It’s- it’s just Aiden, bud,” he tried again. “You know me. Nothing to be afraid of.” The name gave the panther pause. The sounds of driving rain seemed to fade as it thought. Aiden. Aiden. It knew that name. But… from where? Its brows furrowed, a halting yowl drifting from it. It wanted to keep the person away… didn’t it…? … then why did it wish they’d come closer? Aiden advanced a bit more. Gently, as the panther hesitated. Though it bristled again, it didn’t make any noise. It just crouched. Aiden eyed it uncertainly. “... you ok, Roo…?” he continued. “It’s alright. You’re safe.” The panther shivered. Meowed softly. Safe. It was… safe? The person… they… no, he was… was safe…? It’s tail curled around its feet. Nervous. Afraid. Aiden took another step. Nothing happened. Another. Nothing. Two more, and he’d be right next to the panther. He was almost close enough to touch it. Yet, he stopped. The panther couldn’t see. It was so afraid. He had to make sure it knew it was safe. He had to. “... roo…” he started softly, crouching down. “It’s okay. Really. Aiden’s here. Dad’s here. You’re safe.” The panther trembled. Another soft meow slipped out. A questioning sound. A skittish sound. It knew the person was right there. It wanted him closer. Please, come closer. Safety was nothing without him. Without… … without… Aiden. Silently, everything fell into place. Tears rose to Roo’s eyes. Aiden. Oh Revaew. Aiden. His body shook as he tried to process, little huffs bubbling out of his mouth. There he was. The familiar was back, but his fear had gone nowhere. It was still so dark here. He didn’t know what to do. He just shivered, pawing anxiously at his eyes. ‘Aiden?’ he tried to say, meows coming out instead. ‘D-dad? Aiden? P-please- please, i-i nuh-need help-’ The questor understood the moment Roo teared up. To call his sigh relieved might have been an understatement. He closed the gap without words. Pulling his familiar into his arms never felt so sweet. Roo latched onto him. Aiden did likewise. Just sitting there, quietly shushing the big kitty. “Dad’s here, Roo…” he murmured. He held Roo as his sniffles bubbled into sobs. “You’re safe…” He held him even as his painted form started running like a busted faucet. “You’re alright…” He held him as his body shrank down smaller and smaller. Held him as he morphed back into a scared little kitten. Held him as little paws clutched handfuls of his shirt. Just… held him. Eventually, Roo tried to speak. His little voice broke and mewled too badly to make out words. But Aiden knew what he meant. Cradling his familiar in his arms, the questor got to his feet. He shut the door with a small wave of magic. The mess could wait for the morning. They weren’t going anywhere but bed. Roo mewled again as he carried him back to the trashed bedroom. Aiden shushed him quietly. Gently. “You’re safe, Roodle,” Aiden hummed. “I’m here.” Carefully, he wrapped the kitten in a torn blanket. Good enough for now. Good enough to sleep. He settled himself up as best he could in bed. Just letting roo curl up on his chest, arms still cradling him. The rain was the only sound for a little. Ever present drumming from the sky. Roo dozed off easily.

After awhile, a bit of thunder rumbled over the house. Roo shivered in time, curling up tighter. “... mrr…” Aiden’s hand gently smoothed Roo’s fluffy fur. Tired. Half awake. But still determined. “I’ll be right here, Roo. Don’t worry.”

“You’re safe.”

[a-classic-story-so-far]

A Day in the Life: Helkat

Even over the rhythmic song of his hammer striking the red-hot iron, Rowan Smith could sense Kat entering the shop. Her footfalls were heavy as she crossed the concrete floor and he noted her shadow as it passed through the smoke and light. She was an hour late when the Cathedral bells announced the hour, so by his estimation, she was very nearly an hour and a half late when she arrived. After getting the piece to a place where he could leave it, Rowan put down his hammer and turned towards the shop’s interior.

“You’re late,” he grumbled.

“It ain’t like it fuckin’ matters, Rowan,” Kat called back as she ducked behind a curtain to change into her apron. “You got me on chisels for the masons, like you always do, and they ain’t gonna come pick ‘em up ‘til tomorrow. I’ll have ‘em done whether I am here at seven bells or twelve bells. Then you’ll have me cleanin’ up after you.”

“That isn’t the point, Kat,” Rowan sighed.

The blacksmith knew her story and it helped temper his irritation. She was on her own and had been for nearly three years. She didn’t have to tell him she had faced hardships, and so he put to practice all the patience his art taught him when dealing with her.

“Fuckin’ aye, Rowan. What is the point then?” She huffed as she tossed back the curtain.

The blacksmith opened his mouth to answer her, but his words were lost on a soft gasp as the small, albeit muscular, woman looked up at him. It was hard not to think of her as a child, with her full, round cheeks and bright, sharp eyes, so it was heartbreaking to see them stained with blood and bruises.

“Light, child, were you brawling again, or did someone…”

“Relax,” Kat groaned, waving off his concern. “It was an arranged match. And I ain’t a child. Least that ain’t the story the other guy’s tryna sell round these parts. He’s been tellin’ folks his bout was with a big fuckin’ giant of a man. He’s gotta or he’s gonna be laughed outta the City, gettin’ his ass knocked out in the second round by a girl.”

Rowan could appreciate the woman’s strength, but her love of violence broke his heart. Someone once told her she couldn’t be strong unless she was hard and violent, and now she embraces only that as her identity. She stands with her shoulders straight and pulled back so she could balance the chips on them. She didn’t have to smile to be pretty, but he wondered if she still knew how to express joy. The anvil upon which she was forged, hammered by tragedy and pain, was one that turned out a hardened woman who feared and loathed any softness that once brought balance to her life. Rowan was the only son in a family of twelve, and with his wife, he had only daughters, so in Kat, he saw effortlessly through the front she fought to maintain.

Of course, he couldn’t let onto that.

“Right. Well, the point is, when I tell ya to be here at seven, I expect you to be here. Anyone you ever work for, will expect you to be on time. I am relying on you, Kat. Sure, I got you sharpening axes and chisels most the time, but its work that needs done. And cleanin’ up, well, until I can hire another kid to do it, I need you to. We’ve been busy and what you are doing is just as important as anything else. Next week, I gotta get you to help me make hinges. They’ve got a new garrison going up in Westfall, so the order’s big. We just need to get through the mason contract this week and they must take care of their own chisels this fall while the garrison is getting fitted out. Alright? I need you here, Kat.”

For just a moment he could see the softness she hated in her eyes, and he just looked away while it passed. She tried to hate him sometimes, and he knew it. Rowan also knew he wasn’t the source of her hatred but simply the focus. Kat wanted to hate him for the ways he reminded her of her father. She wanted to loathe him for the ways he was gentle with her and the way he made her feel vulnerable. Those were the times when she would lash out, so Rowan learned fast how best to let her burn out.

“Now get to it. Don’t be late again,” he grunted before she could say a word.

She was still angry, but at least it was anger she chose. She made a gesture and rolled her eyes before stomping to her station. Her reaction brought a sigh of relief from Rowan, though. She was a woman who saw things in shades of rage, and while he wanted her to find happiness, he respected her perspective.

-

At five bells, the streets of the laboring districts flowed with workers who had been released for the day. All manner of makers and civil servants marched out to the canals and beyond to the hovels and houses they called home. Harris Pent blended in perfectly among them.

However, Harris wasn’t like them.

The crowds were all retreating from their jobs, but the pale, lanky northerner would argue he was just starting his work for the day. He passed between people with a soft grunt of apology when he bumped into them and focused on the horizon with the same tired stare, but in truth he was neither sorry nor tired. Every time he contacted another person; his wage increased. His deft fingers found loose coins and unattended jewelry as easily as others found solid footing on the cobbled streets. He could pick pockets and locks with his eyes closed.

However, he was suddenly reminded that it was a bad idea to do so.

His fingers dipped into a vest pocket as he bumped into small woman, but when he tried to remove it, bounty in hand, he felt a vice close around his wrist. The small figure twisted his arm awkwardly and slammed him into the nearby wall. He put on a charming smile, but it melted as he found those olive-hazel gaze locked on him.

“Helkat! I was—”

“Save it, shit head. What the fuck did I tell ya about robbin’ workin’ folks,” Kat hissed, still holding his arm painfully to the side.

“I was only picking out the rich looking ones!”

Her brows dropped and her lips pursed, and the deadpan expression inspired the man to squirm and think about his words. When Harris realized his mistake, he started talking again.

“Okay! Fine. I’m sorry, hun. It is really hard getting close to those rich pricks, though. I need to eat.”

“Then get a fuckin’ job,” Kat snapped. She let go of his wrist and made sure her lighter was still in her pocket. “Takin’ money from these folks only hurts ‘em. Stick it to the fuckin nobles, or start huntin’ for a job like the rest of us.”

“Right. Sorry, Helkat.”

Kat only grunted in response as she pulled out a cigarette case and pulled one free. As soon as it was tucked into her pierced lips, she could sense the question on her companion’s tongue and offered him as well. She used the lighter he tried to steal to light both of their smokes and started towards Old Town again.

“When did you eat last?” She asked gruffly.

Harris paused to give it some thought. If she was anyone else, he would give a sob story to get some free food and maybe some cash. However, he liked Kat. She was humble and smart. She was a survivor. She was his only real friend, and she meant a lot to him.

Kat was anything but ‘anyone else.’

“This morning. I conned breakfast out of a cute Night Elf. She’s clearly new to the city, but I didn’t rob her.” He added the last bit quickly and defensively, earning a dry huff of amusement from his companion.

“Let’s go get somethin’ to eat. I got paid today so I can get yours,” she nodded as she directed them down the alleys to the Pig and Whistle. “I need you to do something for me, though.”

“Yea? What’s up? Wait. You aren’t going to ask me to beat up the guy who did that to you, are you?”

For a tall man, Harris could move quick, evading the anticipated slap from Kat as he snickered about the joke he could only share with her.

“No, you fuck,” she snorted in reply, cracking a wan smile. “No. I need ya find me another fight, actually. You did real good last time. It was a bit of a challenge, but the bids were against me. I need another one like that so I can get out of the shit hole I am livin in.”

“Don’t you think you should lay low for a bit? People were pretty upset last night about losing all that money on a ‘sure thing’. You have a lot of people angry at you. If you take another fight and flip the table, you may get yourself killed.”

His concern was genuine, and even though she scowled at him, he expressed it. It was his one act of defiance with her. He cared and he wasn’t going to stop caring even if he knew they would only ever be friends.

“Look, I get it and I welcome anyone to fuckin’ try, but Harris, I’ve been squattin’ in that place for over a year and I think people are catchin’ on that it ain’t empty. The lock I put in’s got scratches on it, like someone tried to pick it. I gotta get out because I can’t live like that. So, find me a fight. Head out to Redridge if you can. I’ll give you the coin to rent a horse so you don’t gotta walk.”

Harris was quiet as he took the last drag off his cigarette and tossed the spent end to the cobbles with a defeated sigh.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. Give me four days. I’ll have something for this coming weekend.”

“Great. Now, lets get something to eat. I’m starvin’!”

“You’re always starving,” Harris laughed as he jogged ahead to get the door for her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hours later, Kat stumbled drunk up the exterior access to the second floor of the butcher shop on the canals. The stairs were handy from a rear alley, so she never had to worry about guards questioning her ascent to the abandoned apartment on the second story. The whole building had made the front page of the local paper when it had been gutted by rioters a few years before Kat moved to Stormwind, and while the butcher had restored the shop, he left the second floor in a sorry state. The floor was weak, and the windows had their glass replaced with boards. The walls were burnt in places and the whole area smelled of smoke even years later. However, Kat didn’t mind. It was free and it was home.

“Hey, Kat, you gonna be alright?” Harris slurred as his companion came to stop at the door.

“Shut up,” she hissed, sounding instantly sober.

Her key was still in hand, never touching the lock, but with her free hand she pushed the door open easily. As the light of the moon reflected off the shattered lock, the man also found a bit of foul clarity.

“Oi, Kat, maybe we don’t go…”

Before Harris could finish, she was already storming across the room. He surveyed the flat in her wake and knew instantly that the culprits were no longer there. It was a smash and grab, and they left very little of the sparse space untouched.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” he sighed. Harris felt a bit of guilt knowing he had taken part in robberies like this in the past. It was a very different experience to be on this side of things.

“Just…head back to your place,” Kat rumbled without turning to look at him. “I gotta see if they got in my stashes and I’ll find an inn room. It’s fine. Go on.”

“You sure? You can stay with me…”

“Go on, Harris. I need to get shit and get out.”

With a heavy heart, the man nodded and turned to head out. As he went, he did his best to pull the door closed. The lock and latch were both broken, so it didn’t stay closed, but it offered Kat a bit of privacy.

When she was certain she was alone, she dropped to her knees. Tears were streaming down her face and her face was red with the effort it took not to scream. She could see from where she had been standing that her two cash stashes were empty and the stash, she kept in the floor was untouched but the items within held no value to anyone but her. Kat arrived in Stormwind nothing and she fought tooth and nail for the small piece of the world she had carved out for herself. But now she had nothing again.

Worse though was that she chose that drafty, broken house of nothing over Home. She wouldn’t accept defeat. She dragged herself onto the tossed mattress, collected her blankets around her, and clung to the hammer under her pillow. She defiantly and definitively chose nothing.

[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #2

Got an uhh.. Aasimar and Tiefling I would like to play, should anyone indulge me. I've had their characters for a while, but this is the first time I've played them dnd Verse. Looking very specifically for female characters here.

Lupa is a Fallen Aasimar, though she's true neutral by nature. She has beautiful eyes that look like literal ruby's, with curly hair cut braided tightly on one side, and left loose and fluffy on the other. It does, in fact, glow. She's well muscled, but in an absolutely elegant and graceful sort of way. Has bronze skin, with bright red freckles that glow and burn under her skin. She has patches of Vitiligo on her back, that flush out against her shoulder blades. She's so tall! so tall, like 6'3, 6'4. She's an uhhhh Pyromancer Sorcerer. Comes off as very stoic, though quickly shows herself to be a gremlin. Tends not to take things so seriously, even if it seems like she does otherwise.

Comparatively, Ambrosia is a short tiefling, with large ram horns that curl thickly outward, and, not unlike her companion, large curly hair. It sort of, flows and floats through the air, as though she's underwater. The hair is a mix of pinks and white shades, and her skin looks marbled in nature. She also has those sweet hooved feet, and has a soft bit of fluff at the end of a thin tail. She's stocky, with a bit more muscle to her. Stands maybe about 5'4? She's a Brute Fighter, who specializes in Battle Axe and War Hammers, though can strike up a mean duel when convinced correctly. She's very joyful, a Neutral Good. Comes off as being a bit more gentle then she is, though has a soft spot for children and ppl who aren't too good at standing up for themselves.

The two of them are working through some things right now. Working through some FEELINGS. But its fine, its okay. They can be GAY on MAIN.

The plot idea I had for this is that your character is either apart of or hosting some kinda Gala, while my characters are in charge of distracting yours while the third member of their party goes through and grabs what they need from this house. Your character can genuinely be the host, or maybe someone that was invited (or ALSO came to the party for some underhanded means). Trust me they're dumb and gay and don't have the internet the possibility of them slipping up is obnoxiously high. (Guilty pleasure of mine, but also could possibly be the eldest daughter of some old nobility that gets charmed by the two of them and swept away? You know how it be sometimes!!) Or maybe your character is the young child of nobility, who's kind of forgotten about by their parents? Smth like that.

I'm good with NSFW scenes if you are, given the character and roleplayer is 18+. Actually, I like nothing more then the idea of them being pulled off into a library or bed/bath to distract your character, and then some. Might have to deal with two clueless lesbians too, but thats fine. However, we don't gotta. I just as much like the idea of getting into some dergeounds and dragons shenanigans. Some polyam shenams.

It was a simple job, all things considered.

Getting into the gala was easy. The twins mother had the connections they needed, knew how to sweet talk and sugar coat her words. An invite was all but assured through that woman. While they knew not the layout of the place, they practically had all night. These gala's could run for /hours/, an unending run around.

On paper, it was easy. Which meant that there was always something outside the plans that would throw a wrench in it.

Get in, get the papers, get out.

It should be easy.

~~

Lupa felt absolutely gorgeous right now.

Of course, that wasn't to say she didn't normally think she was beautiful. No, no. That was nothing more then a statement of fact, a favor that came with heritage and luck, and confidence that come in knowing both of these things. But there was a difference between KNOWING her own looks, and feeling as though she'd just been dipped in liquid gold.

They'd worked her hair for hours. It was the thing she noticed first and foremost. It's pulled up tight against her head, ornaments and beads strung through to create a colored, gentle glow. It takes a moment of picking for her to notice that they'd picked specifically glass beads, and she rolls them around in her fingers as though testing their limits time and time again. Its a hairstyle she normally does not have, and one she thinks she won't keep once it falls out of place. But for now, it looks.. good. Tight on the head, but good nonetheless.

They'd done well on her make up. The red hues looked good against bronze, and she thinks that maybe they'd maybe bought the dress specifically for her. It fits against her form, one arm hidden under sleeve, the other framed by precious metal and gem. The sleeve leads down her arm, and stops just over the back of her hand. Theres a pattern on it that she thinks, with her brief knowledge of embroidery, must have taken hours to complete.

However beautiful she feels, however, is nothing compared to how beautiful Ambrosia looks.

She's talking to one of the twins- Kimon, when she steps into view, saying something akin to the words, "Remember, the party is centered around the garden, so if you want to have the most luck getting in and out then.." When she glances and happens upon the tieflings form.

They've left her hair loose in all its glory. The streaks of pink flurry through the clouds of white, and her hair floats high around her head as she steps closer. They went with light makeup - A good call, if you asked her. The woman looked fine on her own, none needed. Thales must have gone out of his way to decorate her horns, because the ornaments on it are new, tight to the bone and unblemished by fight and time. Her dress is nothing akin to hers. Shades of silver and blue shimmer and shimmy with every step. It falls to her knee's, though the top of it wraps around her chest tight enough to keep itself in place. The gemstones she wears catch the dimmed light from the windows, lighting her skin with shadows of color.

However, the prettiest thing has to be the expression on her face. There's this grin on her face that covers half of it, and Lupa remembers that she didn't have much like this. Not normally, anyway. She looks as though being dipped in make-up and cloth has changed her life, and though she still has calloused hands and sharp muscles from heaving weaponry around, she thinks that maybe it would feel weird seeing her without it. (She wants nothing more, she thinks, then to give her this everyday. She doesn't understand it, but this is the happiest she's seen the woman in weeks.)

"Oh!" Ambrosia says, like she's just as startled to see her, "Lupa you look..."

Lupa nods, "I'm aware," Monotoned. She's not one to take compliments when she already knows them to be true. Ambrosia startles, though after a moment laughs. She continues, however, "You look.. Spectacular. You're going to steal the show away, at this rate."

".. Me?" She blinks, pulls at one of her bracelets. Lupa doesn't dignify that with a reply, and the man next to her snorts into his hand. She almost stomps on his toes in turn.

"Come on. I was just going over this plan with Kimon. We might as well rehash it again now that you're here."  

~~

The manner is large, and to a degree unnerving to stare up at.

The twins came from money. It was an undeniable fact. It was old money, inherited from a father they'd no longer knew nor supposedly remembered, and carefully monitored through their mother. But Money was money, she supposed. Despite this, they lived modestly for their wealth. Their mother lived in a house big enough for herself and her sons, big enough to house multiple guests and then some. Big enough to be spacious, and certainly bigger then the average living space. But they'd not been spoiled with servant, and that space got used well with the sort of generosity that had come with time and well knowing experience.

The same could not be said for this manner, she feels.

Her heels click against a smooth, gracious surface, and she can't help but feel even marginally intimidated by the sight. She wonders, for a moment, how many of the rooms get consistent use. Even the outside of the building looks as though it was simply dressed up for the Occassion. The lights that shine and glow on it color its white washed walls in vivid shades of rainbow, dancing and glimmering in her peripherals. She can place a name to the spell with little issue - Dancing Lights, one she'd become more then familiar with thanks to their bards cantrips.

"Lupa,"

She feels the woman next to her shift closer, and when she glances to meet her eyes, she finds them gazing up to the buildings with wide amazement. And in that moment, she cares not about how pretentious it seems anymore.

~~

The party, of course, is about as dry as she'd expected.

It's mostly rich people with far too much time on their hands, using the excuse of drinking and small talk to attempt to sell their goods or make new connections. Most of the dancing are the same, or similar enough in nature that they follow a pattern in time to the tune. If theres anything she's learned in her travels, theres no party like a bunch of drunken sailors singing at the top of their lungs. She likes to think that most here would have a heart attack at the sheer idea of someone heaving themselves onto a table to dance.

But Ambrosia has spent the last hour falling from person to person on the dance floor, and though she came in supposedly not knowing but one of the dances, she's managed to pick up on four by now. She's always been quite good at that. Maybe that could use that to their advantage at some point... She catches the other woman's gaze, and theres a moment that passes between the two of them that almost rings with.. confusion? A silent question, one of which she does well not to answer. And in doing so, turns her gaze away from the other.

Next she knows, she see's a glass shoved in her face, champaign bubbles popping on skin. "Drink," The woman tells her, raising an eyebrow to her as she does, "Here I thought I was the nervous one. You look as though you know The Raven Queen herself is going to come and collect the souls of everyone in this room," Ambrosia laughs at her own joke, and it's as light as the air in the room.

"... Sorry," Though she takes the glass, she does not drink from it. It wouldn't do her much good--- It takes far more to get her tipsy then a glass of rich-man's liquor.

Ambrosia reaches past her to grab one of the premade plates, tail lashing behind her as she picks from the bunch. Excitement? "Are you just going to stand here all night?" She asks. Maybe irritation...

Lupa takes a moment to consider it, "I need to keep an eye out for our hosts," She says, and she knows its an excuse, "If they come in and we manage to miss them-" She has to take a look around to make sure theres no one around, "Kimon and Thales might get caught. Neither of us can risk that, Ambrosia." The tiefling stares. The pause in long enough that she feels the need to add- "Besides, These events have never been much fun for me. I can't find any enjoyment in an event thats business masked as pleasure," She says, purses her lips, "Go have fun, Ambrosia. I'll be over here."

"But I was hoping you'd--" Frustration reads over the tieflings face, and she cannot for the life of her figure out why. Definitely irritation then. So instead, she looks down to the glass, and avoids the woman's gaze. "Yeah. Okay. I won't be too far away, so if anything comes up..."

There's no polite way to tell her that she'd be watching, of course. So instead, she says, "Enjoy your dance," And learns back on the table to go back to observing.

~~

Kimon settles on stage and begins to play about midway through the show, the tabaxi man next to him giving him an odd look as he does so. But the sound of his fiddle is a welcomed familiarity, and she finds herself falling into step to the song.

Odd, she thinks. That wasn't part of the plan. But they exchange a glance, a nod, and she decides that what she's feeling at the moment is absolutely not panic.

~~

At first, she see's her out of the corner of her eye.

Ambrosia had, at the time, rushed off to entertain the two nobility that were running the party. That had always been more her thing- the woman was well read, and she was by no means shy to touch and magic. She made for a compelling distraction, if not an overall compelling person. She'd be wholey surprised if she'd not had one of the two nobles head over heels for her by the end of the night. Or, she supposed, that could perhaps be a bit of projection on her end. Still. She notices her because.. well, she's beautiful. It's the type of abstract beauty that she associates with wealth, sure. And while it takes her a moment to realize that, perhaps that's also as she appears tonight (she cannot hide the scars on her hands that come from years of magic use, not the callous on her heels from travel. But she knows, beyond that, she must look one in the same. ) Its... a level of beauty nonetheless.  

She raises an eyebrow to the woman, who'd been carefully seated on the edge of the window. The architecture was gorgeous. The doors and windows to the ballroom had been opened or cleared, letting the nights breeze blow in and revealing the all too picturesc view of the gardens to the inside world. Lights hover and glow about the walking paths, though the ones in the distance seem to be slowly beginning to fade or die. Almost as though telling the guests that it was almost time to leave. She makes not to herself to leave through the back, this time around.

"You look like your having fun," She says, carefully. She imagines her tone both gives away too much and not enough. Whether or not this is reality misses her, though after a moment she does feel as though she might be making this woman uncomfortable. Or maybe it was simply that she felt uncomfortable. Hm. She's not unaware of what she looks, however. In the end, it works to her advantage.

"Would you like some?" She offers, holding at the end of her plate, "I got some for my companion, but it seems like she's ah... Gotten distracted," she nods over to the woman in question, who seems to be entertaining the couple with a careful display of magic that comes with her heritage.

[blessuswithblogs]

2018 Game of the Year Top Ten List I guess

2018 has been an interminable mire of exhausting miasma and quite frankly I feel like it has been longer than the entire stretch of 2010-2015 combined. I also didn't play many games released this year because, like last year, I'm still poor. I'll see what I can dig up.

10. Sunset Overdrive PC edition: It's a fun open world game by insomniac. The PC Port is actually balls but like. It's a good game with a unique emphasis on how you traverse the game world, where you can grind and bounce on just about anything and indeed to do so is the only way to not get totally chewed up by the hordes of mutants and scavengers and robots you have to fight. There's also some pretty fun and out there weapons to use, like a gun that shoots vinyl records or one that deploys little auto-turrets kept aloft with propellers or one that shoots out a bowling ball at terminal velocity. The base game didn't actually come out this year (I dont... think it did...?) but it was an XBone exclusive so I didn't play it then. It's got some weird problems with narrative tone and some kind of out of the blue racism but the M rated Nickolodeon toy commercial aesthetic is charming in a weird way. I guess.

9. The Forest: I think this got an official release this year? I don't know I can't fucking keep track. Speaking of a game with weird problems with racism, if you can look past the garbage "main quest" and really deeply uncomfortable racial politics where you murder and steal from cannibal mutants, The Forest is probably the best cool treefort building simulator I've ever played. This game has a love affair with lumber and I respect that. Shouldn't you be looking for Timmy, you ask me? Shouldn't you be shutting the fuck up before I put this airplane axe in your skullmeats? Gazebos are nice. I guess.

8. Spyro: reignited trilogy: haven't actually played this yet but let's be real the spyro games were fucking dope back in the day and giving them an HD coat of paint and packaging them all together is a real standup thing for insomniac to do in between slinging webs and making questionable pc ports. Also its like Dark Souls so it has to be good, right? Everything old is new again. I guess.

7. Super Smash Bros. Ultimate: haven't played this one either but like. I know that I am a smash-enjoyer. I even liked Brawl. This is the biggest, smashiest one yet and it's also on the switch which means it could also be portable if I decided I never wanted to leave my bed again. I'm probably going to find some money to get it soon. Should be fun. I guess.

6. The Quiet Man: look no game that is THIS hysterical can be all bad alright? Didn't play it. Won't play it. It's awful. But it's so fucking funny like oh my god. Still better than Fallout 76. I guess.

5. Dark Souls Remastered: was this even a good remaster? I don't fucking know. It's Dark Souls. It's better than 90% of released games by default. I miss Solaire of Astora. I guess there's Shadows Die Twice to look forward to. I guess.

4. Subnautica: I wrote a lot about this actually. Subnautica is great. Just fantastic. A wonderful, visually stunning (mostly) (when it works) journey under an alien ocean to unravel an ancient mystery behind a deadly plague. Building seabases is so much fun (when it doesn't hard crash your computer) and the peaceful playstyle you adopt where you really only kill things for food until you can grow your own, much more efficient produce is a welcome change of pace from everything else. Leviathans are scary, especially now that your cyclops is mortal and not indestructible. This game actually Came Out this year so it deserves to be on the spot. I guess.

3. Dragon Ball Fighterz: Honestly I'm hell trash garbage at fighting games that aren't smash but this was a very well put together, visually impressive as all hell fast paced tag fighter where you can have 3 gokus on the same team fight 3 other gokus on the same team. Goku density alone makes this game worth recommending. The eSports scene that has popped up around it is fun too. I guess.

2. Dead Cells: Another game that gets to be on the list by virtue of it actually coming out this year. Wait, was this on last year's list? Let me check. Ok good it wasn't. Early access is a fucking trip. It's fun, stylish, challenging, has a great deal of variety in ways to play, might have erased my entire save because it became obsolete and I'm definitely not bitter, and it has that classic rogue-lite replay value to give you some bang for your buck. There was that one review plagiarism scandal. I guess.

1. Monster Hunter World: If you really want to know what I think of this game my previous piece on it is a good place to start. In addition to everything said there, MHW is just a fun game. The loop is satisfying and, later on, quite challenging. The combat system takes some genuine getting used to and some monsters like Nergigante actually literally cheat but for the most part the game's unique fighting style, spread across several unique weapon types, is rewarding to learn because it demands some effort be put into it and the dividends of fighting well are very cool, like just knocking a flying monster on its ass with a single mighty swing of the hammer. When a game is hard in any capacity games journalists get dollar signs in their eyes and start drooling uncontrollably because they can immediately declare that Farm Sim 2020 is the next Bloodborne because they somehow managed to roll their tractor into a ditch, but MHW is actually quite similar in style and execution to deliberate Souls combat, but the comparison is made in reverse. Dark Souls is quite similar to Monster Hunter, the first game of which was popular and a couple of years old before Demon's Souls was even a twinkle in Miyazaki's eye. There's a lot of parallels between fighting a big ol' rathalos in monhun and going for the toes against a dragon in Dark Souls, but I think MHW actually does that kind of fight better.  There are a lot of modern conveniences present in MHW that are a godsend to newer players, making the game pretty easy to get into if you're willing to try. It was my favorite game of the year that actually came out in 2018. I kind of wanted to put Warframe in this list but it's been out of early access for years now. I guess.

There were a lot of games this year that I wanted to play, but couldn't. I don't think 2018 was a weak year for video games. It wasn't as strong as 2017 but it had some hits, I just couldn't afford to play them all. Maybe next year I'll be able to give a better list. I think that the whole industry is in for some hard choices and major restructuring of how things get done and how they look at the end result. Stocks continue to trend downward - not just for Bethesda but for most mainstream, prominent AAA developers like EA and Take2. Given the well documented volatility of "The Shareholders", I imagine that they would be most displeased by downward trends even if they were still making a modest profit.

The situation has been likened to an economic bubble ripe for bursting. Games as a cultural institution have come a long way since the catastrophic days of Atari's warehouses of unsold copies of E.T., and I don't believe that we're in any danger of a complete collapse of the institution, but the fact absolutely remains That Something's Gotta Give. The increasingly predatory practices that game developers put in place as they pathologically attempt to Make Every Money Ever are intrinsically unsustainable. People are willing to forgive and overlook the now ubiquitous microtransaction if a game is good enough to overlook it, or if it's the game's only real way of actually making money. Warframe's microtransactions, for instance, are reasonably priced, platinum is often heavily discounted as a login bonus, and you can make large amounts of it without ever spending money thanks to the game's surprisingly robust trading economy. So. Yeah. They get a pass. Warframe is also good on its own merits, despite being free to play. They also listen to their community about pricing. Go check out Warframe. It's free. It's free!!! Warframe is my unofficial top spot.

Sorry I got a little bit distracted. So there's only really two instances where people will tolerate microtransactions and lootboxes in the contemporary sense: either a game is good enough and polished enough and the lootboxes are unobtrusive enough that you can just sort of shrug your shoulders and say "it sucks but what are you gonna do" or it genuinely relies on those microtransactions to support itself. When these tenets are violated, people WILL get mad. People raised absolute hell about Battlefront 2's scummy monetization schemes, enough to get EA to back off. Fallout 76 is getting lambasted in no small part due to its utterly overpriced "cosmetic" shop where you pay ten real dollars to get your power armor to look blue. You can buy fullfeatured, critically acclaimed games for half that price and you already dumped $60 on this lemon of a game. Destiny 2 got into hot water for being cagey about how its exp values were calculated and how the previously free and user-friendly shaders became one-time use items you could only get from rolling the dice. The public is getting positively irate about all of this nonsense, and if Fallout 76 (and evidently battlefield V?) is any indication, we are fast approaching a breaking point where shareholder demand for profit will outpace the consumer's ability to provide it and the developer's ability to skinner box it out of us.

Of course Nintendo continues to march on to the beat of its own drum seemingly unaffected by all of this garbage. Not out of any moral superiority, I imagine. More likely it's just a consequence of that company still being in the process of being dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Maybe a few years down the line when everyboy else has abandoned microtransactions Nintendo will pick them up, put a cute Mario motif on it, and we'll be back to square one. Time will tell. We're in a volatile time for games and the timebomb keeps ticking. I just hope the explosion isn't too messy. I guess.

[gosecretscribbles]

Diptember 2018 Week 2: Supernatural

“DipperDipperDipper!” Mabel raced up to him, her face shining with excitement, weaving through piles of used clothes and knick knacks.  She'd spotted a yard sale on their way to school and insisted they check it out.  “Look what I found!”

“Is it something that will make us get to school faster?” Dipper asked.

“It's a music box – look!”  She held up her hands.  Resting on her palms was a pale green music box shaped like an egg, with a thin gold line running lengthwise along the seam and several highly stylized flowers carved into the top.  

He squinted at it.  “Those flowers look weirdly familiar...”

“The lady said it never worked, so she gave it to me for free!”  She grinned slyly.  “I'm thinkin' if I made a certain culinary creation, my nerdy twin bro would be able to fix it right up!”

“If you're talking marshmallow grilled cheese then we so have a deal.”

He started on the music box late that night, after they'd finished homework and their parents had turned in.  (They knew Dipper always stayed up late, and they'd long since given up trying to get him to sleep at a timely hour.)  Waddles had stayed up with him for a while, probably because he thought it was an Easter Egg like the ones Mabel had given him to snack on.  But the pig had long since retired to its bed in the corner, leaving Dipper alone to work at it.  And the more he did, the more frustrated he became.

“Dipprrr?” Mabel slurred, waking up after he'd nearly stabbed himself with a screwdriver.  “Wut're you doin'?”

“Are you sure this thing is a music box?” Dipper asked, sitting on his bed and glaring at the thing.  “It has no hinges, no nails, no clasp – and yet there is a tiny gap all the way around the seam except the long part so there really should be hinges and there aren't!”

“Pretty sure.”  Mabel rolled over and rested her chin on the rail of the top bunk.  “I mean, I know the lady said it didn't work, but when I shook it it made this really pretty chiming sound.”

Dipper held it up to his ear and shook it.  “I don't hear anything.”

“Well not like that,” she said with a snort.  She climbed down the ladder and he handed it over.  “Here – you gotta shake it like this!”

And she immediately started shaking it like a maraca.

Dipper huffed.  “Mabel, what are you even –”

“TADA!”

She shoved the box right next to his ear.  He jumped, startled, but then he heard it: a thin, silvery tune, a breeze wafting through slender chimes.  But he'd no sooner heard it than it faded completely.

“It stopped – can you do it again?” Dipper asked.  

Mabel gasped with delight.  “An invitation to dance?!  Why Dipper I'd be delighted!”  She grabbed Dipper's hand, yanked him out of bed and started pulling him around the room, laughing.  Dipper allowed it, half-smiling at his sister's typically crazy antics.  The silvery sound grew in volume. Waddles woke up and snorted curiously.  

Dipper grinned.  “Amazing!  It must be motion-activated.”

“More like fun activated!”

Dipper laughed – until he noticed something else about the music box.

“Mabel, keep dancing, but look!”

She looked.  It was hard to tell because she had to keep shaking it up and down, but the weird flowers on the lid were changing shape.  For a second Dipper thought the flowers might be 'dancing', too, but then the egg started glowing a pale yellow, and the slender lines of the flowers became more and more familiar, until they almost looked like –

“Alien code!” Dipper shouted, just as the egg turned red.  The soft silver chimes abruptly changed to a loud claxon blare, so loud Dipper could feel it in his teeth.   Waddles squealed and tried to burrow under the bunk beds.  

Mabel clapped her hands to her ears, dropping the egg.  “OW!  WHAT IS THAT?!”

“I DON'T KNOW!” Dipper shouted back.  He tried to cover it with a pillow, then two pillows and himself, then just plain smashing it with a hammer.  But he couldn't turn it off or even quiet the sound. Their parents slept like the dead, but the sound was so bad it was bound to wake them up eventually!

“TURN IT OFF!” Mabel shouted.

“I'M TRYING!”  He looked around quickly and grabbed his journal – he'd started one this summer and included a lot of the codes he'd found in Gravity Falls.  He hurried to flip to the page where he'd stuck a photo of himself and the alien text he'd seen at Crash Site Omega. “OKAY!” he shouted.  “I THINK I CAN DECODE THE TEXT!  IT SAYS – uh...”  He double-checked the translation.  “IT SAYS 'REMOTE SHIP ALARM'?”

Suddenly the klaxon shifted to a high-pitch screech, then broke off into someone speaking.  

“– told you we dropped it around here somewhere!” said a voice, which sounded very oddly like a rubber duck.  “If you hadn't forgotten to charge the battery we would've found it ages ago!”

“Oh, don't blame me just because you can't keep track of things,” grumbled a second voice.  “We don't even need it, we always find our ship without it.”

“Don't forget that one horror story about the ship that never returned!  If we didn't find this one I was going to fly us back to Centaur A for a new remote!”

“I'm not going back there, that wefleki kept looking at me funny –”

“Uh, hello?” Dipper said.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“Oh great, someone found it!” the first voice burst out.  “Listen up, whoever you are, drop what you're holding and walk away, or we'll – we'll alien abduct you so hard you'll be seeing lights in the sky for years to come!”

“You mean, like the stars?” Mabel asked.

“Ye – I mean no!”

“And who made a remote control that's dance-activated, because that is awesome engineering!”

“It's not 'dance activated,' the voice said indignantly.  “When else would you flail your arms except in panic because you can't find where you parked in the intergalactic space mall?”

“Wait, are you really aliens?” Dipper said, leaning forward.  “Which star do you come from?  Are you here on vacation?  Do you have a spaceship?  Can I see it?”

“He actually really wants to drive it,” Mabel told the egg.

“And can I drive it just for like two seconds!?”

“Wait,” said the second voice.  “Are you 'Dipper-bottom-line-Pines-bottom-line-Paranormal-bottom-line-Investigator'?”

“Yes! Yes, that's me!”

“I've seen your petition online!”  There was a clear smile in his voice. “I was impressed that you were able to outmaneuver the drone.  That kind of flying definitely comes in handy when you're flying through clouds of carnivorous space comets.”

Dipper leaned forward eagerly.  “And I can totally do that!  I think. D'you want a demonstration?  I can show you how!”  

“Or you could just buy crunchy peanut butter,” Mabel said.  

Dipper elbowed her and made a sh!!! motion.

But the second alien sounded intrigued.  “Peanut butter, you say?”

“Sure! Just throw a scoop at any ol' space rock, and they'll eat it because peanut butter, and then their jaws'll get stuck together and presto!  No more ship-munching!”  She paused.  “Unless they're allergic to peanuts, in which case molasses should do the trick.”

“Fascinating.”

“But,” Dipper cut in, “if you still wanted those extremely high quality aerial lessons as, you know, back-up, I could totally help you out with that!”

The alien hesitated.

“Well I'm doing it,” the first voice said finally.  “The peanut butter plan is sheer brilliance, but I want a back-up plan in case it doesn't work out.”

“As long as it gets me out of visiting Centauri A,” the second one grumbled.  

“Stay where you are,” the first alien told them.  “We'll home in on the remotes signal!”

Dipper's face lit up with excitement.  He looked up, caught Mabel's eye, and the two of them dashed outside.  Waddles was close behind.  

The backyard quiet devoid of life, save for the creepy-looking gnome in the rose bushes.  The twins looked up.  One of the stars in the sky was growing brighter by the second, until a disk-shaped spaceship the size of a city block was descending slowly above their house. Waddles oinked at it.  

“Omigosh, look!” Mabel squealed.  As the UFO put on its brakes, jets of superheated gas hissed out of the vents on the bottom, searing strange designs into the grass.  “It's lawn art, Dipper! Space-shippy lawn art!”

“And it just melted that creepy garden gnome,” Dipper said giddily, still clutching the spaceship's remote.  He stood back a little farther to let the bottom dome of the ship touch down.  His parents would probably think they pulled some crazy prank on the lawn, but who cared?  He was about to drive a spaceship – an actual, real-life, still-functioning space ship, with actual aliens inside of it!  He was about to make First Contact, at least in this dimension!  

He was so thrilled he was practically dancing on the spot, clutching the space egg with excitement.  “Oh man, oh man, this is gonna be so great, I can't wait to tell Great-Uncle Ford, I've gotta take pictures –”

Abruptly the spaceship stopped descending.  The remote glowed.  “Did you say 'Ford'?” the first alien asked.

Dipper blinked.  “Uh – yeah?”

“Ford Pines, the human?”

“Um, yeah!”

“Four limbs, one head, twelve phalanges, also known as Sixer – that Ford?”

Mabel gasped.  “OMG you know him!!  Are you his interdimensional space buddies?!”

“Oh no we're not!” the alien barked, and the whole spaceship turned red.  Metal cylinders jutted from the ship, and before he could blink, a wall of red laser fire light up the grass at his feet.  He and Mabel jumped back with a yell, nearly hitting Waddles.  The pig squealed and pressed into Mabel's leg.  

“HEY! What was that for?!” Dipper demanded.

“We're not letting the family of an interdimensional criminal aboard just so he can steal our ship for spare parts!” the alien shouted.  

“Interdi – but – we're not criminals!”

“Tell that to all the people he stole from to build his so-called quantum death thingie!” the second alien spat.  

“You're not so much as touching our ship!” the first alien growled.  “And forget trying some other alien marks – we'll be making a very strongly worded post on the Space Lizard Forum, warning everyone about exactly what kind of scam you're trying to pull!”

“But – but –”

The spaceship fired, so suddenly that Dipper, Mabel, and Waddles were all thrown tumbling back onto the porch.  Heat seared their faces and light flashed through their closed eyelids.  Waddles squealed.  

When Dipper opened his eyes, the lawn was a charred mess, and it looked like his mom's roses had melted right along with the creepy old gnome.  

He stared at the carnage.  “Tell me that didn't just happen.”

“Well...” Mabel sat up slowly, one arm around Waddles.  “I could, except that I'm trying to wrap my brain around the fact that both of our Grunkles have actual criminal records.  D'you think crime runs in the family?”

“I think the aliens thought it did,” he said numbly.  “He did say Ford, right?  Like actually Ford, not Stan pretending to be Ford?  I didn't even know Ford had a criminal record!

“Well if crime is inherited then I wanna be an art thief, or – oh!  Maybe a masked vigilante!  With rainbow powers!!  Rainbow powers of JUSTICE!”

He groaned.  “I was this close to being in an alien spaceship...”

“Hey, Dipper, look!”  She pointed.  The space remote was still sitting on the burnt lawn, untouched and shiny as ever.  “They left their thingie behind!  We could call them and try to get them to change their minds!”

He reached for it, but before he could touch it the remote made a dull thump noise and black smoke poured out of its seam.  It had self-destructed.

“Ah,” Mabel said.  “Well...maybe they won't post on all the Space Lizard Forums?”

“Aaaauuuuggghh!!!”

AN: Thus ended Dipper's dream of driving an alien space ship.

[zombeamik]

OKAY SO BIG RANDOM GAMEPLAY SPOILERS ABOUT DELTA RUNE

OKAY SO BIG BIG BIG BIG SPOILERS DOWN BELOW IF YOU HAVENT PLAYED THE GAME AS THIS WAS MY EXPERIENCE SO i did update this as i was playing so please ignore my spelling mistakes and confusion as i am to lazy to go back and fix it lmao enjoy!! :D

man WHAT i has to stare at their names to figur it out but KRIS IS FRISK AND RALSEI IS ASRIEL AND SUSIE IDK WHO SHE IS BUT WHATEVER BUT WHENEVER WE SAVE IT COMES UP AS THE CREATOR AND KRIS IS GONE AND IM LIKE ??????? SO WHEN AM I SHOWINH UP BUT NO OFFENSE I KNOW IM SUPPOSED GO SAVE EVERYONE AND GOAT MOM AND EHATEVER BUT I LIKE GENOCIDE SOZ NOT SOZ i honestly though kris was chara but then i’m like oh shit they have one yellow stripe OH SHIT DOES IT KNOW I PLAYED GENOCIDE LMAO

but man it’s so cool and i’m happy so

EW CROWN MARIO REFRENCE I HATE THIS GAME LMAO

ok was there a way to finish the crown mario button fight without being pacifist ew

i’m sorry i don’t know how to get exp or love or whatever they call it and i am MAD

when you loved clover but you trying to be mean so you had to kill them D: I AM BAD PERSON BC IT WAS THEIR BIRTHDAY UGH

i love magnus and his hammer head ugh he cute

i like lancer BUT DO U REALLY WANT HIM ON MY TEAM HMM

i charged my mind i love lancer he’s just scared and he wants his papa to live and love.

aND HIM AND SUSIES FRIENDSHIO IT IS GREAT I LOVE IT OK

ALSO HUH LOOK AT THAT ATTACK WOW REMINDS ME OF FLOWEY OH WOW IT WORKS LIKE FLOWEYS ATTACK! WAY TO STEAL AN ATTACK FLOWEY (he don’t exist yet i’m guessing as toriel talked about asriel at the start of the game so prequel to when monsters lived above???)

OH NO I AM SAD AGAIN LANCER ISNT HITTING BACK LIKE GOAT MAMA NOOO DO NT HURT HIM SUSIE

susie is like ok we can talk it out with the king and i’m like WHAT NO IM HERE FOR GENOCIDE I AINT DOING NO PACIFIST

even tho i couldn’t kill the button crown dude whatever honestly didn’t know how lmao

excuse me Rouxls Kaard??!?! ur basically a royal mettaton OK BUT WAIT WHAT WAS THAT SPARKLY THI G DOD I MISS IT OR HUH

ugh gross the shop keeper is Rouxls Kaard MAN EW UR PUZZLES SUCK

KING PLS WHAT HAPPENE TO U??? TO THEM HES A HERO TO ME WHAT THE HELL WHY IS IT COMING OUT OF HIS STOMCH IM SO CONFUSED HELP

you’re much stronger than i envisioned PLS don’t use toriels like thanks i am TRYING to do genocide BHT OK

HUH I DID MOT AGREE TO PUT MY WEAPON AWAY

WHERES MY CREATION I WANT TO MURDER STUFF LMAO

wow i suck i just want to kill everybody and not even do a peaceful way whoops lmao

I KNEW IT HOW FUCKING RUDE MR KING I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU BUT NO AND RHEN YOU FO THAT?!

WAIT IM NOT READY TO LEAVE I HAVENT DONE THE THING IN THE FOREST OR GOT THE KEY WAIT

OH MY GOD WHAT ITS FLUFFYBOY IN COLOUR HUHHE CUTE

UH OH DETERMINATION AWLAWYS HAS TO REUIN EVERYHRJ H

okay yes toby i will leave you be but i wanted to look i the computer lab cri

OH ASGORE IS MY DAD YEAH WE BASICALLY CHARA BUT OUT NAME IS KRIS frisk BUT WHAT AWW

EXCUSE ME ASRIEL IS IN COLLEGE?!

omg did asgore die maybe they had a fight again or whatever but excuse me what happened i want to know.

BURGERPANTS WHY ARE TOU WORKING AS A MASCOT A PIZZA PLCE I MISSED TOU BUT UR JOB STILL SUCKS

and undyne and alphys not together???

IT WAS NICE TALKINGBURGER PANTS BUT THERES SO MUCH TO LOOK ATHOPEFULLY YOU CAN GO TO COLLEGE AND BECOME THAT ACTOR ENJOY MAN

UH NTY I LIKE ASGORE AND TORIEL NOT ASGORE AND UNDYNE AND UNDYNE AND BURGER PANTS EW no offense.

IM SO HAPPY TO SEE ALL MY FRIENDS?? I AM CRYING

DAAAAAD WHAT HAPPENED I CAME TO SEE YOU, YOU OWN A FLOWER SHOP?? AW MAN I LOVE YOU

THAT WAS SUCH A CUTE HUG OMG DONT APOLOGIZE DAD I MKSSED U NO WAIT I LOVE HUGS GIVE ME ANOTHER PLS

huh that’s cool instead of souls he has flowers instead pls don’t tell me we gonna run into evil soul flowers in this game thanks.

oh the flowers toriel used for her wedding are probably the ones in the containers i am sad

RED HORNS?! YOU MEAN DEVIL HORNS WHAT WERE TOU THINKING jk lmao

excuse me mum but if you do not put those flowers in the kitchen and you put them in the trash I AM MOVING OUT

oh i just noticed that my side of the room in really empty and now i am sad, asriel what the hell.

UM

UM

UMMMMMM WHAT THE FUCK OH NO I KNEW IT OH MY GOD UM UM THAT IS BAD BUT OK IT IS GOOD CAUSE THAT EHAT I WANTED BUT OH NO

HELLO I KNEW IT WAS YOU

end of first run lol

starts of pacifist run

also so i’ve replayed it as i’m trying to actually do genocide and pacifist instead of neutral, ill figure it out. but the cutscene when they were falling down tbh could have been my eyes but i swear i saw abit of red on uh chara or mikaela or kris or whatever you want to call them. anyways.

UM

so i’m doing pacifist ugh anyways omg?

but i mean WHAT ITS SOCUTE UGH

anyways if ur doing pacifist o honestly think you gotta fight the temptation to kill everything as the evil character man it’s gonna be hard bc goat mama noticed something was wrong and now we ripped our soul out so UH I MEAN YES SOMETHING IS WRONG. CALL 000 PLS

OK SO PACIFIST IS COOL BUT YKNOW

ANYWAYS I AM GETTING MAD ABOUT THIS SECRET BOSS UGH CAN YOU JUST FALL ASLEEP MAN WHAT THE HELL

I WANNA KILL HIM BUT IVE DONE THIS WHOLE THING PACIFIST SO UGHHHH

OK I GIVE UP I CANT FIGURE OUT THE PATTERN CRY I MAY HAVE TO COME BACK TO IT BUT PROBS NOT I MEAN IS THE ARMOUR WORTH IT OR LIKE

anyways time to continue with pacifist story

ah lovely pacifist ending

no my only question is when chapter 2 comes out i’m wondering if that’s gonna be start of the “genocide route” or where you start gaining levels if you want.

OTHERWISE SUPER COOL YA OK

im sorry i thought i was done with this post lol but that ending gets me everytime i’m still wondering where the soul will go or who will take it bc goat mama is probs gonna see it in there. but i honestly wonder why they turned evil like was it because asriel wasn’t there and mum and dad broke up or was it because of susie even tho she was nice like?????? maybe it was because of the king like spooky king not dad king like maybe they noticed that you can’t trust anyone and like i gotta kill them or. UGH I DONT KNOW. TO MANY THINGS.

OH MY GOD WHAT IF WE WKE UP IN CHAPTER 2 AND MIRDER GOAT MAMA LIKE EXCUSE ME NO THANKS WELL I MENA IVE MURDER HER LIKE 7 TIMES BUT THAT WAS WITH MY CONSENT I DONT WANT MY BABY TO MURDER HER

as someone who loves Chara/whatever you name them/frisk/kris but also loves genocide i can’t say anything to justify their actions as i did nothing wrong and they ripped out their soul and got a knife by themselves so uh IT WASNT MY FAULT

ANYWAY THIS WILL BE THE END UNTIL SOMEOME COMES OUT AND TELLS ME THERE IS A WAY TO DO GENOCIDE SO

if ur waiting for a theory it ain’t coming i mean there might be bits in this but like it’s honestly me screaming LMAO

[megamanx1994]

Xenoforce III Chapter 1

(2 years after the events of the second book, Michael has become quite attached to his role as Xenoblade. But his responsibilities are put to the test when an alien parasite attaches itself to his body. While it dials up his senses by 110%, it also begins to unleash his darker side. Meanwhile behind the scenes someone steals one of his inventions for their own personal gain, while somebody else uses alien technology for money.)

Chapter 1: A day in the Life (Disclaimer! I own nothing of Xenoblade Chronicles!)

A young teen was looking at a picture of a climatic battle between living legend, Captain Falcon, and the organization known as C.H.A.O.S. “This picture was our only link to some life changing discoveries,” he said, “And now, we’ve found them. Alright let’s get to work!” He had some construction workers scavenging leftovers from a fight. Someone was using normal tools to try and pry something. “No, you can’t use that stuff,” said the teenager, “These people are tough, you gotta use the same gear that they use.” He took one of the weapons and used it to pry the object. “Thanks Mr. Pierce,” he said.”Please, just call me Edmund,” said Edmund, “Just get whatever you can for this shift and we’ll come back. This stuff is gonna make us rich!”

Some other people started to come in. “Hey, hey, you can’t come over here,” said Edmund, “This is property of PierceTech.” A woman showed him a badge. “My name is Amanda Ross, I am the head of the Public Hazzard Crew, or P.A.C, for short,” she said introducing herself, “In accordance with the executive order 75-g, all post battle cleanup will now be under our hands, so thank you for your service.” “Maybe you didn’t hear me,” said Edmund, “This is our property, and I got a contract which states, that I can take anything from this skirmish and use it for whatever I need and/or want.” “I apologize Mr. Pierce, but this is now under our control,” said Amanda, “I suggest turning in any technology that you recovered or you’ll be prosecuted.” “Amanda, you don’t understand,” said Edmund, “I am the heir to this company, and I promised my parents on their deathbed that I would get this company back to its former glory.” “There is nothing I can do about that,” said Amanda. Her men started cleaning up the technology and taking it away. “If you have any problems with how we’re running things, you can take it to our superiors,” said Amanda. “And who the hell would that be?!” asked Edmund.

Edmund was at the mansion next to PierceTech watching the news. Professor Elvin Gadd was responsible for what happened. “Hey boss, don’t let that lady get to you,” said one of his friends. “Mr. Pierce,” said one of the scientists, “We still have another load of technology from a while ago, we should return it.” “Why return it?” asked someone, “We could make some insane armor and shit and showcase it for tourists.” That gave Edmund an idea. “I’ll tell you what,” he said, “Keep it.” “But the Public Hazzard….” Said the scientist. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” said Edmund, “The world’s changing. Time we change too.”

4 years later……

PierceTech was looking more high tech with the new gadgets he made using some of the alien technology that was hidden. Edmund had a truck coming in with some mechons. “Business is good,” he said.

I was driving to a wedding for one of my mom’s friends from work. I changed the channel and heard that there was a police chase near the street. I decided to kick it into action. (To the 4th wall) Time to do what I do best. I transformed into my Xeno-Suit and look at my watch. “I got time,” I said to myself.  I parked my car and jumped on my hover board. Some thugs hijacked a truck and was stealing technology. One of them saw me. “Uh guys, we got trouble!” he said. I got a close look at them. They were thugs who worked for Xord who escaped from Prison. “They never learn,” I said. I jumped onto the truck and started fighting off the thugs. “Those aren’t yours,” I said. They all had energy swords similar to my monado. “Ok then,” I said. I got out my monado. “Speed!” I said. The Kanji symbol turned blue and I was able to move fast. I managed to wipe thir weapons away. I then rounded them up and imagined a cage with my digital headband and delivered them all to the police.

“Thank you Xenoblade,” said an officer. “Just doing my job for Los Angeles,” I said. I was listening to my radio. “There have been reports of a jewelery robbery in….”I looked at my watch. “I still got time,” I said. I went back to find my hoverboard and saw somebody messing with it. “Its all ready for you sir,” she said. It was a young girl with a costume similar to mine. “Wait,” I said, “Who are you?” “Well I’m Xenogirl,” she said, “Remember me?” “Wait…. That girl from the comic con contest!” I said remembering, “Congrats again on the costume Xenogirl.” “Glad to know you remember me,” she said, “I’ve taken the liberty of tinkering with the jets inside of your hoverboard, that way you can get to your location faster.” I took a look at it. “Sweet,” I said as I got on top of it, “Listen, I’m not sure if you wanna be around when bad guys are….” “Don’t worry about training me Xenoblade, I know all your moves, fighting styles, pick-up lines and everything!” said Xenogirl, “I’m your #1 fan!” “Thanks again,” I said. I flew away.

There were robbers stealing jewels from people. “Selling these is gonna make me a mint,” said their leader, Grey Mage. “Good, you could use one,” I said behind them, “I can smell your breath from all the way back here!” “Xenoblade,” he said, “How nice of you to join us. Get him boys!” His thugs were about to attack, but somebody threw a smoke ball in the field and took them down in no time flat. When the smoke cleared, I saw her. A new superhero who goes by the name, Purple Haze. “Purple Haze,” I said greeting her. “Xenoblade,” she said. Grey Mage was looking at us. “I got him buttercup,” I said. “Sure, I just softened up the punks for you,” she said. Grey Mage pulled out his wand and cast magic spells at us. (To the 4th wall) This guy isn’t really a magician, he just has a high tech suit. I leaped in and kicked the wand out of his hands. “Listen, the thing is, I got to him before you did,” said Purple Haze. “Well I talked to them first,” I said. “Look, she was he….” Said Grey Mage before he was attacked. “You know, we could share duties as heroes,” said Purple Haze. “I’ve already got a team,” I said. “Well good thing there’s heroes that can work together in this city,” said Purple Haze. She was playing with my mask and almost took it off. “You doing anything later?” I asked. “I’m helping out with a wedding,” she said, “Thanks for taking care of my job for me.” She floated away using smoke gauntlets and blew me a kiss. “Wow,” I said. Later I handcuffed Grey Mage and his thugs to a wall. (To the 4th wall) This job never gets old. I saw Micah chasing a helicopter. “Hey Michael, shouldn’t you be getting ready?!” “I still got time!” I said. I saw explosions in a building.

“That can’t be good,” I said. I flew over to see what was going on. It was Xord using a new kind of exo skeleton with a hammer. “Xord,” I said getting in a fighting stance. “Monado boy!” he said looking at me. “And Xeno Girl,” said XenoGirl. She somehow got to the top of the building. “How’d you get up here so fast?” I asked. “You see, I made these rocket boots triggered by these gloves I made,” she said. “That’s pretty cool, hold that thought,” I said. I was battling Xord. “Please continue!” I said as I was fighting him. “Well, I was inspired by all your work you did, and I wanna grow up to be somebody like you.” “That’s great,” I said, “But even I started out doing small things, maybe you should do the same. You don’t really have super powers.” “True,” said XenoGirl, “But what I lack in powers, I make up with my intellect, and I invented these.” “Pretty good,” I said still fighting Xord. “You keep dealing with this guy and I’ll get the police,” said XenoGirl. “Wait kid!” I said.

“This’ll just take a minute really,” she said. “Not that!” I said, “There’s thugs down there!” She flew over them. (To the 4th wall) How could I be so stupid to forget that she could fly? I jumped down to deal with his thugs who were stealing technology. They had weapons aimed at me. “Guys wait, we should talk this out,” I said preparing a new power I installed in my monado, “Monado SHOCKER!” I said. Using it, I managed to disable their weapons and stun them. “Good talk,” I said. “No it wasn’t,” said one of the thugs. “Now to catch Xord before he…..” I said as I saw him fall down on a car. “…..gets away,” I said. Xenogirl flew down. “He’s all yours Mr. Xenoblade,” she said. “Just Xenoblade,” I said, “Mr. Xenoblade was my dad.” The cops arrived in time. “Well, you finally caught up with him Xenoblade,” said an officer, “And who would you be young lady?” “I’m XenoGirl,” she said introducing herself, “And I helped Xenoblade round up these punks.” “Yeah, you sure did,” I said. “Hey, maybe I can apply to join your XenoForce team,” she said excited, “We could save the world and you could train me taking on small crimes until I’m ready to take it up a notch!” “Let’s not get carried away,” I said. “Oh right, sorry,” she said.

“But hey, if you play your parts right, you’ll be leading your own team of heroes,” I said, “But until then, just stay low and help the little guy and such.” “You got it,” said Xenogirl. “Oh, I gotta give you something for your help,” I said. “Like a reward?” she asked. I thought of something. I got out one of my EMP pistols. “How about this?” I asked, “You can use it to shut down enemy weapons and stuff.” “Cool!” she said as she took it, “Thanks.” “Don’t sweat it,” I said. I looked at my watch. “After all that I still got time,” I said, “Officers, Xenogirl, have a good night.” I drove to the wedding and Micah saw me. “You’re early,” she said. “That’s right,” I said, “Even after all those crimes I still made it with the decorations and stuff.” Later the party was going on after the wedding and everyone was dancing. Ratchet was dancing while looking at the ground. Denise chuckled. “Ratch, you’re not supposed to look at the ground when you dance,” she said. “I gotta Denise,” said Ratchet, “If I don’t I might slip.” He slipped but Denise caught him and giggled.

“Alright your party goers, its time to bring the newly-weds onto the dance floor,” said the DJ, “Let’s give it up for Nayla, and Jeffery!” Mom’s friend, Nayla, and her husband came to the dance floor. “Let’s show these guys how its done,” said Jeffery. They were dancing and we were all amazed. “Hey Mikey, you think you’ll ever open yourself out?” asked Anela, “Cause I got some girls that are lookin’?” “I don’t really know,” I said. Mom was talking with Nayla. “I’m really happy for you Nayla,” she said, “Jeffery seems like such a nice guy.” “Of course he’ll never replace my first boyfriend,” said Nayla, “It was his love that got me to open up my heart again.” I decided to go to the concession stand and get me something. “I’ll just take me a hot chocolate,” I said. “Here you go,” said the pink haired girl. I gave her some money. “You just got the last one,” she said with a smile. I smiled back.

“Its time to take this party down and slow down the music,” said the DJ. I noticed the pink haired girl moving to the music. “Wanna dance?” she asked. “Um, sure I guess so,” I said. She took me to the dance floor. “I can’t recall the last time I slowed dance before,” I said blushing. “No need to be nervous,” she said, “Just put your arm around me and hold my hand like this.” As we danced everyone started looking at us. “Looks like Michael’s macking,” said Micah. Although it was strange at first, I felt happy about it too.