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spell-cleaver · 2 years

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No. 29 WHAT DOESN’T KILL ME… Sleep Deprivation | Defiance | “Better me than you.”

Read it instead on AO3 or on FFN!

His speeder ran out of fuel when he was almost at his destination, thankfully; if it had run out when Vader was on his tail it would have been the worst thing imaginable. Hopefully, the rocks he dumped on his head back in the Jundland Wastes would slow him down for a little while longer, at least.

There is no escape.

Pity it didn’t shut him up at the same time.

There is no use in running. I can feel your fear—your friends remain incarcerated, but we can free them. You have constructed a new lightsaber; use your fear, turn to the dark side, and lay it to bear against the tyrant who once ruled both our lives.

Are you talking about Jabba now, or still Palpatine? Luke snapped back. I can’t tell anymore.

Do not be obnoxious.

I’m asking the same of you.

A dark ripple. Vader’s anger was building. Luke wondered if those rocks had left an indent in his helmet. They had definitely smashed the speeder he was in. There is no escape.

Yeah, you said—

You cannot outrun your destiny. I know Jabba has your friends. I know where you are going. I know where I will find you.

Luke touched his lightsaber at his hip. The grip was just like Ben’s had been—the guide he’d left behind in his old hut was the best approximation of instructions he could find, so of course it was. But it twinged a little, thinking about how different the grip was to his father’s lightsaber he’d loved so much. How different he was from the father he’d adored.

I don’t care, he lied.

He climbed out of his sputtering speeder and switched it off, putting it out of his misery. He glanced around, pulling the cloak’s hood back over the top of his head. His clothes weren’t designed for Tatooine, and he was sweating like a bantha—though he was surprisingly pleased at how well they kept out the sand, his old clothes never did that—but at least he had the hood. It was black, but… well. That was to make a statement as well. He trudged away.

He didn’t know how long he was walking for, Vader’s idle threats looping like a holo at the back of his head, but the homestead finally appeared on the horizon. Luke, unconsciously, picked up his pace. Even after four years away, even after nineteen years of wanting to escape, even after watching his aunt and uncle burn on the pyre there, that stupid collection of buildings still called him home.

It would still have supplies—he knew that. Before he was born, Aunt Beru had operated a pitstop, a place for runaway slaves to get supplies and rest in an underground bunker for a few nights while they healed from their surgery. That bunker had been left mostly untouched when he was a child, and they never let any potential danger come to their door so long as he was there, but they kept supplies for emergencies anyway. Food. Blankets. Clothes, medkits. And, most importantly for him right now, fuel.

The skeleton of the structure remained, years after he abandoned it. He could see that himself. Squatters had no doubt moved in, and he could sense life up ahead of him, but that was no worry. He almost hoped they would be runaway slaves, that his aunt’s legacy would be maintained by the home she made even years after her death. His quickened pace continued, sweat clinging to his upper lip.

He hadn’t been back to Tatooine since that happened. The homestead had lost its charred appearance, the desert stripping its colour back to white again, so it looked almost fully intact from here, like his aunt would come out and call for him, Uncle Owen waiting to lecture him about losing the speeder. If he kept walking in this direction, he would reach the Darklighters’ farm. But Biggs wouldn’t be there. His aunt and uncle weren’t there.

He had lost so much. All of it. And he’d lost it all to—

Use your anger.

Go to hell.

He hadn’t been back to Tatooine in four years, but still: when the sand rippled underneath him, he remembered what that meant. Fear flashed through him.

What is it?

He stopped moving, glancing around. Where was it? What was it after? Him?

After a moment of silence, he started moving forwards again, this time adopting that arrhythmic pace Uncle Owen had always been so good at, but had given him bad hips far too early in his life. He reached down into the sand to try to gauge where it was as he kept moving, scanning the sands for it

What is it, Luke? I sense your fear.

The Force blared. He ran.

Sand erupted in front of him. Luke dived to the side, shouting and throwing up a hand. The vile spray of acid bounced away from him like he was holding a shield, the Force straining to keep that much projectile power at bay, and then he ran again.

The beast dragged itself to its feet. Its roar shook him to his core, almost too high-pitched for a beast of that size. He kept running, away from its snapping maw—and then the sand shuddered as it got its legs under it and braced against the ground, its wide-feet floating on sand far better than his were.

Tell me what this is!

Krayt dragon, Luke got out, even his mental voice sounding breathless, just before it lunged.

He jumped out of the way, desperation propelling him a good ten metres away from its grey, rotting teeth. Its maw barrelled into the sand instead. He lit his lightsaber, spun it—the whir it made was soothing, somehow, helped him focus—and ran at it.

It yanked its head out of the sand to glare at him with its tiny, beady eye. The next spew of acid it shot out, Luke punched right back at it, trying to splatter it on the soft tissue of its tongue and gums, but it snapped its mouth shut, closed its eyes. They shut like blast doors, three layers of armour folding over the fragile goo. It spewed at him again.

Luke didn’t bother deflecting. He leapt, out of the way, and landed on its head.

It roared again, the sound shaking through him. He clung to one of the spines on the back of its head, hand straining. Spun his lightsaber in his grip again, the green blade as refreshing and relieving to his eyes as grass in the desert, and plunged it into its skull.

The blade bounced off the hide like a toothpick off durasteel. Startled, the lightsaber clattered out of his hand; Luke summoned it back a heartbeat later, but that moment of distraction cost him. The dragon bucked. He fell off, tumbling down its back. Its tail swung around to catch him across the torso and send him flying.

At least the sand cushioned his fall. He spat it out of his mouth and scrambled to his feet—his clothes were not doing a good job of keeping it out anymore—before the dragon descended on him again.

His lightsaber flew into his hand again. As the maw came down, he rolled out of the way, faster than this dragon was clearly used to its prey moving, and brought the lightsaber down on the side of its mouth.

Again, it bounced clean off.

Too late, he realised his father was nattering advice straight into his brain, as if Luke had the mental capacity to split his attention like that. Krayt dragon armour is impervious to lightsabers, my son, do not waste your time on fighting it with that—

I kriffing noticed!

He rolled out of the way of the next strike, panicking. It lunged after him, its front legs actually leaving the ground and booming back down when it landed. Ripples thundered through the sand. Luke gaze stilled for a moment on the thick, dark scales around its ankles. All four of them were rubbed red-grey and raw, oozing something like blood.

His distraction cost him. Its teeth closed around Luke’s cape; it strangled him for several long seconds before he yanked it off and let the dragon retreat with its prize.

It did not look happy when it realised it had grabbed the wrapping, not the meat inside.

Do not demean yourself like this.

Huh? What?

Your powers are unparalleled. This is likely the krayt dragon that recently graced Jabba’s halls before it escaped. Any beast that can be tamed by the assortment of fools and degenerates who make up that court will be no match for you.

The tail swung around again and matched him. It thumped him across the chest, sending him flying into the sand, stunned. All he could do for precious seconds was stare up at the sky, as blue as his old lightsaber.

Use your hatred. Corrupt your lightsaber. Turn the full might of the dark side of the Force against your attacker and triumph.

I thought Jabba had a rancor, Luke grumbled and got to his feet.

Then you should research your foes more carefully. Draw your lightsaber. Do not lose this—

The acid spray took him by surprise. He only narrowly deflected it. The sand beside him melted into unappealing sludge.

He leapt to his feet. Stop distracting me, bastard!

Do not use such inappropriate—

When the krayt snapped at him again, he slashed his lightsaber into its mouth. Its tongue wasn’t armoured the way the rest of it was; it howled and reared back, glaring at him.

It wasn’t uncommon knowledge that the only reliable way to kill a krayt dragon was to get inside it, attack its insides instead of the thick armour, like planting a detonator in the soft body of a slave. That was how hunters who coveted the pearl it produced in its stomach got at it. Most of them sent in droids, but a few dived in themselves, emerging from the corpse victorious with a hard white prize in their fist. Krayts were meant to be the only creature with that sort of prize at their centre, and it made them targets. They needed that tough skin.

Luke couldn’t escape this thing on foot, and it wouldn’t stop attacking him, it seemed; the only way to end this would be to enter it. Carve it open.

He was not doing that.

He ran.

This thing was Jabba’s? he asked. How did Jabba control this thing?

It was gaining on him, snapping at his heels. His heart thundered in his chest. The homestead was right up ahead of him, he just needed to get inside, get into the bunker and it wouldn’t be able to get him, but the closer he got the faster that thing moved, shooting through the sand like a ship through hyperspace. He could sense its rage, animalistic and simple but so vibrant—sense it mounting with every step, every scratch of sand against its claws.

It flung acid at him. He sucked in a breath and jumped. The circular pit at the heart of his homestead welcomed him.

He landed in a crouch, something crunching underneath him—bone, but not his bone. The acid splattered the wall above his head. He glanced down and nearly gagged. He was crouching ankle-deep in shavit.

A quick look around the homestead confirmed. The whole exposed area was covered in piles of shavit, dotted through with small animals’ bones. It stank of excretion, rot, and blood.

Everything clicked.

The krayt dragon screamed again. Luke ran, diving for the bunker room Aunt Beru had always kept separate. It was in her and Uncle Owen’s old bedroom: he fumbled for the door and scrambled inside—the place had been ransacked by Jawas, no surprise there, it was empty—and banged on the secret door. It slid open at his touch. He dove in and locked himself there.

The whole building shuddered as the dragon rammed the wall, but the foundations were firm. Luke took in a deep breath, breathing nothing but musty air and the shavit still on his lovely new boots, and let himself sink to the floor.

That thing was Jabba’s? he asked again, much calmer this time.

Naturally. I fail to understand your preoccupation with this. It was one of the animals he used to torture prisoners with before escaping—a barbaric practise for a barbaric leader. Have you killed it yet?

Shut up. Luke closed his eyes. Took in a deep breath. The krayt dragon was still thumping, thumping, thumping, trying to force its way in, to eat him. No, not eat him. Just kill him. The bunker walls held firm.

He reached out to touch its mind, hesitant.

The emotions that slammed into him were overpowering. He wondered if that was where the conception that non-sentient animals didn’t feel as complexly as sentients did came from. The sheer power of them overwhelmed him, instinct and reason battling in a cacophony of fury. But anger was not the main thing Luke sense from this krayt dragon. The main thing he felt was fear.

She was afraid.

This bunker was meant for escaped slaves. A stopover on their long journey to freedom, so they could heal and recuperate. The dragon still moved slowly for her kind, on limbs raw and bloodied from her captivity. She had found an empty nest and had made it her sanctuary, and then Luke—another human—had come to find her there.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured through the door. He sent the words pulsing through the Force. The thumps, the sand shivering from the ceiling to fall in fine mists on his hair and outfit, ceased. “I don’t want to drive you away. I want to help you.”

Her mind was as deep as a Jundland cave, darker and more secretive the deeper he probed. But he tried to send calming pulses anyway.

“Can I heal you?” he asked.

Whatever you are doing, Luke, I can sense that you are no longer fighting it. Have you decided to lie down and be eaten? You must fight. You must draw on the dark side and embrace your destiny.

“I know what it’s like to be hunted as well,” Luke said, a little bitterly. “Will you let me help you?”

She drew back from him, distrusting. She couldn’t see him. He picked up one of the medkits stored in here, opened the door, sand rustling down onto him again, and crept out through the bedroom. In the courtyard, she had curled herself up in her nest. The dark brown scales on her back, gritty with dust, sand, and grime, nonetheless shone in the noonday sun.

Luke stepped out and spread his hands. “Will you let me heal you?” he repeated.

She watched him closely, but he sensed no backlash. He edged slowly, so slowly, towards the leg that was nearest to her, and opened the medkit. Soothing the limb with the Force so she didn’t feel pain, he cleaned the wound and bandaged it. There were a sparse few bacta patches, but he wouldn’t need that many, so he used them all before finally channelling the Force into her leg.

It didn’t heal totally. He couldn’t do that. There was so much he had to learn; he wasn’t a full-fledged Jedi. Not yet.

But compassion was central to a Jedi’s life.

She stirred, opening her blast door eyes to study him as he moved onto the next leg, shifting her healed leg. He sensed awe from her. It only increased when he handled the second leg, and the third, and the fourth, and then he was standing in front of her face, gazing into her sad, pained eyes.

“I’m sorry I hurt your tongue,” he whispered. “May I take a look at it?”

Her jaw widened. The stench of her breath nearly knocked him over, but he held his nose and peered in. Her tongue, a massive, sticky, grey thing, had a dark red score from his lightsaber right across it.

What are you doing?

Climbing into the krayt dragon’s mouth, Luke quipped back, enjoying getting the chance to use that idiom like this.

Vader’s respond was excited and proud. To kill it?

The fact that was the first time Luke had sensed pride from his father both hurt and disturbed him, somehow.

He clambered up, past her thick, armoured lips. Her teeth guarded the entrance to the abyss like stalagmites, her gums rough under his boots. But he dropped down into the squelchy bottom of her mouth, took a breath, and tried not to imagine her closing her mouth behind him.

She did not.

He laid his hands on her tongue and healed it.

Once he was done, she flicked it experimentally. Saliva—not acidic, but with enough leftover acid from the earlier assaults to tingle and burn—splattered his place. He gagged, wiping it off, and climbed out again.

“Are you going to eat me now?”

She wasn’t. He could tell. But she needed something to eat, anyway. These small animal skeletons at his feet couldn’t have been sustaining her. She was massive. She needed so much more.

But he couldn’t help for much longer; he needed to get back to Jabba’s Palace, to rescue his friends, and get off-planet before Vader got rescued.

Perhaps…

He tilted his head back, shielding his eyes from the sun, and studied her.

“I bet you don’t wanna go back,” he said. “I don’t want you to, either. If one of us has to, it’s better me than you. But you need food, and I need help.”

She cocked her head, staring at him.

Animal minds were strange, but he found he understood it implicitly. Instead of trying to describe it, he transmitted the image to her. Jabba’s Palace, burning under the suns. All those people who’d laughed at her. All those people who’d kept others like her in chains. Teeth closing around all of them—a feast she would never forget, and freedom of the sort that the others would never regret.

Whatever language she spoke, he spoke it to her, feeling his connection to the Force bend to accommodate his friend’s. Her agreement was hot and fierce, even if her courage was small. He couldn’t blame her.

“We’re powerful,” he promised, reaching up to lay a hand on her snout. She lowered her head so he could. “Together, we can do this. I promise. You won’t ever have to fear them again.”

She hummed with satisfaction at that.

As he climbed up onto her back, clinging to her spines, ready for the fevered trip back to Jabba’s Palace, he thought of Vader’s offer. His father wanted him to join him in the darkness—to kill Jabba. To kill Palpatine. Any other masters they could find.

Luke wouldn’t give up being a Jedi—interactions like this—for anything. But he wondered if Vader would join them in their charge, if he offered. If he would accept that compromise.

Perhaps krayt dragons weren’t the only armoured beasts who had pearls in their hearts. He didn’t know, but it was possible.

Perhaps he should find out.

#whumptober 2022 #whumptober #no.29 #my writing #random words on a page #luke skywalker #darth vader #for darkness shows the stars

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lovelycryptidnamedlucifer · 2 months

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mutuals get superblasted with my project but put into a fake tumblr dashboard format !!

🔁🌠 superstarfanboy reblogged 📜wecangdoitproductions-official Following mfw the new episode is coming out on june 19th XX18

#multimillion dollar company stop trying to be human challenge #level impossible #can we chase this one off the site gang? #new episode #episode news

(243k notes)

🍎teachersapple Follow It's a nice quiet-ish day for a simple English lesson :)

Who vs Whom, which to use?

Who is used when the answer would be "He" or "She"

Who opened the door? He opened the door!

Who's drawing over there? He's drawing over there!

Who fell down the stairs? She fell down the stairs. (Apologies, that last one's a bit crude. Just some recent events..)

Whom is used when the answer would be "Him" or "Her"

Whom is the letter addressed? Him!

Whom is getting the medical kit just in case? Her!

Whom is telling me I should pay attention to the situation at hand? ..Her!

#The day was quiet when I started writing, I swear.. #Writing #English #Writeblr #Artemis' Tips

(4 notes)

🔁🦴ferociousfossilfinder reblogged 🦎daily-dinosaur-bones Follow

This is a Dilophosaurus Skeleton!

#amazing #i hope to see one of these in person someday!

(14k notes)

🔁🌠 superstarfanboy reblogged 🎞little-legacy Follow i found some of my old art!!!

the stellar thing in the bg isn't my art, duh, but it's still cool so i kept it in frame :D

🌠 superstarfanboy Follow

#THAT'S MY FAVE #HAND IT OVER #HAND THE STELLAR DRAWING OVER!!! #GIVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!! #please #WAIT ALSO YOUR OLD ART IS SO GOOD TOO??? #TELL ME YOUR SECRETS

(105 notes)

🔁��thebestcastmemberhere reblogged 🔵thebestcastmemberhere Follow do not talk to me. do not interact for the next hour. this is terrible. to hell with the world. i'm going to scratch someone.

🌸cheerycherrytree Follow ??? What is it, krilly??

📁detectiveonthecase Follow She fell down the stairs. Tori's already getting the medkit, though i don't believe it's needed.

Personally, i think the only thing krilly got from this endeavor was a bruised leg, and a bruised ego.

🔵thebestcastmemberhere Follow

SHUT UP???????????????

(7 notes)

🔁📝tori-tore-it reblogged

📝tori-tore-it Follow

🌟stellarthestar Follow can we see what you're drawing when you're done please..?

📝tori-tore-it Follow

🔵thebestcastmemberhere Follow yeah you won't show your art. it stinks and you know it.

🌟stellarthestar Follow come on.. after she checked to make sure you were ok..?

📝tori-tore-it Follow

(6 notes)

HI the fake dashboard is over.

you can resume scroling normally

#unreality #fake dashboard #dashboard simulator #dashboard sim #lucifer's ramblings #my project #swearing

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skillfulsecretagent · 4 months

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Hello vro 💙

You may call me Fawn, Medkit or Rocket (Also Legacy too vro)

Im a multifandom person, and mirrorshipper, you had been warned. For more information about me, check the links below! 💙

Enjoy your stay! 💙

Carrd: crystalshift.carrd.co

Strawpage: fawnkit.straw.page

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untilteddocument · 2 years

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After-Action Archive Phoenix Point 2nd Gig - Hack the Planet, Part 1

Note: Being that this is an ending-related entry, unmarked spoilers ahead!

Welcome back, one and all, to my After-Action Archive! This post, the last I'll be doing for my second playthrough of Phoenix Point, will be detailing the final mission of the game, this time aligning with the Disciples of Anu! I've been helping them throughout this campaign, which in a gameplay sense has mostly been the same as my first playthrough. The story, however...well, we've found out the Exalted's secret, after fending off a coup attempt from her scheming yes-being (bonus points if you get the joke), the Synod of Yearning.

It's kind of refreshing to see a faction so rooted in Freaky Meat Time revealed as genuinely heroic like they've been claiming all along, though this is also the funniest way they could have done it. The usual trope has the middle management operating in good faith and being deceived by their messiah-figure, and this holds true here, but it's the declared foundations of their faith itself that are dangerous, and the messiah's long con is on behalf of the rank-and-file faithful. I love it.

Anyways, so with the briefing, we were brought fully on board with the Exalted's plan, and we had only to do our homework while waiting for the Yuggothian Entity to get to its endgame...so we, in turn, could get to ours.

Upon completing the final research, the Pandoran Palace appears, and we're able to take a team of our best and show the Dead God how we do things downtown. Speaking of teams...

Roll Call

My absolute first recruit (and the redheaded lady on the title screen), Sophia Brown has gone through a bit different journey than she did the first time around. This time, she's putting her Assault skills to work in combination with the stealth bonuses of the Infiltrator class. Coupling Sneak Attack's absurd damage boost with her Shard Gun (some top-tier equipment I can thank the Legacy of the Ancients DLC for) means she's capable of some quick kills, and her Echo bionic head means she'll be able to do it without them even knowing where the hit came from.

For distance work, I've got her outfitted with a Crystal Crossbow, and for scouting and extra targets for enemies to hit, she's packing an Arachni spider drone launcher plus reload. A spare medkit wouldn't go to waste either.

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Somewhat less recent an addition to my team is Milas Johnston, who is here showing off the interaction between the Berserker class and non-Berserker weapons. Turns out, Armor Break and Adrenaline Rush work even better when all your Action Points can be used for attacking instead of movement, so coupled with sniper rifles (proficiency thanks to the Sniperist personal skill) doing loads of damage but not shredding any armor, it's an excellent weapon choice if available.

The combination of the Scorpion sniper rifle (another Legacy of Ancients special), the damage boost of Sniperist, and the damage boost of Sneak Attack means that he can do some real numbers when hidden, but his crappy stealth score means he has to be far away to do it, or else patch it with Vanish. Still, having the option of Vanish means it can work, and with an Athena paralyzing sniper rifle and a Destiny back-mounted laser cannon with plenty of reloads to round out his arsenal, he's loaded for bear, or Lovecraftian god.

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Being that most of this crew was on a squad with a vehicle, it's only reasonable to include a few specialists in that line. Asia Howard is one of them. Assault/Technician is a pretty common combo (Dash + any other class is almost never a wrong choice), and while there aren't any utterly broken interactions here (Rapid Clearance plus the Self-Defense Specialist personal skill and a Gorgon Eye PDW wouldn't be bad, but that's not why she's on the team), her main niche is of working with whatever robo-buddies we have deployed on the mission. Whether her Watcher and Rattlesnake turrets or Sophia's spider drones or any vehicle we have on site, she can compound their effectiveness with Remote Control.

Outside of that, she's also an effective medic, what with her high mobility and Tech Arms. For this mission, I packed a couple of reloads, spare medkits, and a Purifier incendiary grenade. I had a feeling that I'd be needing some of those.

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Next up is the next Assault/Technician on the team, Ruth Manda, who joined up with me when I saved her (New-Jericho-aligned) haven from Pandoran attack. The funny thing is, I was experimenting with her build shortly before this mission, and her being the second technician on the team was actually very recent. Instead of the Neural bionic torso like I had with Ms. Howard, I had her using the Juggernaut bionic torso with an eye towards using her as a frontliner. She worked well enough in that role, but for this mission, I thought a second combat medic wouldn't be uncalled-for.

Aside from her Shard Gun (its high burst of 15 plays very well with her Biochemist personal skill, which adds 1 Virus damage for every projectile), I also have her equipped with a Synedrion-standard Deimos laser assault rifle, in case longer range is needed. No turrets, but two Purifier grenades. As I said, thinking I'll need those.

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Another joiner, this time from a Disciples of Anu haven, Pauline El-Haddad also started with a much different build compared to now. Whereas she was a pure Berserker with a Tentacle torso mutation, I figured the team needed some support in a different area.

Cross-training her as a Priest, I figured the team could use some assistance with how willpower-intensive their styles were, so I outfitted her with a Synod head mutation, which comes with the Radiant Hope aura that restores two Willpower Points to everyone inside it every round. In addition to the obvious Gorgon Eye PDW for defense (and Biochemist for Virus damage, which synergizes with her Priest abilities), she has the Priest standard stuff, most prominently Mind Control and Induce Panic. The latter especially has proven extremely useful on previous missions, giving me a crucial long-range safety valve to neutralize any given enemy for a turn. Aside from plenty of reloads for the PDW, she's packing a Subjugator virus sniper rifle, some medkits, and...another Purifier grenade. I think I'll be needing some of those.

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Normally, this would be where I showcase the vehicle they roll with, but given this mission, I wanted three extra soldiers more than a vehicle. To that end, I brought on a trio of fixers from a different squad. First off is the table-setter, Louise Brahim. Packing a Scorpion sniper rifle, Piranha piercing assault rifle, and Enforcer piercing PDW, she does good damage over various ranges.

Her main draw here, however, lies (as it often does) in the Priest's access to unique abilities. In this case, her Judgement head mutation gives her a massive boost to Willpower and gives her access to the Instill Frenzy skill, which bestows the Frenzy buff on all allies within twenty spaces of her upon use. Not only does it give those allies immunity to Panic as long as it lasts, it ups their movement speed by a whopping 50%. While it doesn't affect the user, as a Sniper/Priest, she's well-equipped to compensate with range, and her Agile leg mutation means she's not exactly slow either.

So why is Instill Frenzy so important? Well...

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Say hello to the first of my hammers, Micaela Jammeh. This saultry binch was one of my earliest recruits, and she is a classic example of the infamous Terminator build. By exploiting the synergy between the Assault class's Rapid Clearance, the Berserker class's Adrenaline Rush, the Strongman personal skill which grants proficiency with - among other things - a fully-loaded New Jericho Deceptor machine gun, plenty of mobility, and an Armored head mutation to soak up the next-round Daze she'd otherwise get, she is well-set to run all around the map clearing it in one massive kill chain.

This can stall out against groups of tougher enemies that take more than one burst to bring down, but this isn't a character action game, so that's fine. Aside from a full brace of reloads, I also gave her a Shard Gun juuust in case she runs out. Shard Gun isn't exactly bad for damage output either.

Neither is...

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...one of our Ms. Brown's earliest compatriots, Omar Ashour. Similar yet distinct from Ms. Jammeh, Mr. Ashour here is an ideal example of what I call the Jedi build. See, Rapid Clearance is, overall, the most broken skill in the game if you can cheat the Action Point cost of whatever massively-damaging weapon you're using. The Terminator does so with Adrenaline Rush, which is Willpower-intensive, but works great anyway. The Jedi build, meantime, does it with a Vengeance bionic torso, which reduces melee attacks' Action Point cost by 1. This, in turn, synergizes with the Scyther, another Legacy of Ancients special and everyone's favorite Pokemon, I'm told.

The only two-handed melee weapon in the game, the Scyther is outlandishly powerful. Already, it's got the highest single-hit damage in the game (300, though the Deceptor can manage 420 on an armorless opponent if all shots hit), and on top of that, it shreds 30 armor and it doesn't strike just a single enemy, but rather attacks in a short-range cone. This not only allows for a bit of fudging for barely-insufficient mobility, it also allows multiple kills with a single attack. Combine this with the Close Quarters Specialist's 20% damage bonus to melee weapons and the Heavy class's Brawler skill adding 50%, and you've got a brutally-effective weapon that can put the fear of it into anything from Scyllas on down. Its only real weakness is the on-death explosions from Venomous and Acid Myrmidons, but Self-Defense Specialist plus a Gorgon Eye PDW means he has some recourse for distance work.

To round out his kit, I included a Legacy of Ancients Rebuke grenade launcher, some reloads for the Gorgon Eye, and a Neurazer paralyzer.

Okay, so that's all settled. Let's go birth a god.

My aircraft of choice for this outing, as shown in the screenshot above and implied by the size of my squad, is the Devilfish, a Masked Manticore and the very same aircraft that I deployed to take down the Pandoran Behemoth on both playthroughs. My squad deployed as usual and rendezvous'd with our special guest.

That's right, the Exalted herself is key to the plan, and necessity means she's not gonna Galadriel this from the shadows. Best part is, she's definitely not dead weight either.

While she lacks direct offensive capability other than Mind Crush, she's basically a dream support. Not only is she Lady Dimitrescu-sized with tentacles, she has a laundry list of Priest skills, some juiced up, like Mind Controlled (the extra "led" stands for Limitations Easily Destroyed, I guess) costing no Action Points. She's not a bad tank either.

With our team assembled, we took to the first corner, stacked up there, and then the squad Frenzied up (unfortunately, large entities like vehicles, Mutogs, and the Exalted do not gain benefits from Frenzy either) and I sent Omar out to get eyes on what we had waiting for us at the gate.

Well, then! There's our welcoming party. Six Arthrons, two Tritons, two Chirons, a Siren, an Acheron, and a Scylla. Notably, two of those Arthrons have the reason I'm bringing Purifier grenades, namely the Tar Shadow ability. Quick refresher, the ability means that if they die by almost anything (notable exception: fire, hence the grenades), an Arthron Umbra will rise from their corpse and get at least one turn of crab-hammering in before we even get to attack it outside of overwatch shots.

Interestingly, last time replaced the Acheron with an extra Chiron and added a Scylla, so maybe I lucked out, or maybe they adjusted the distribution. Either way, they're certainly baring their teeth at us, so how is this going to go?

Yeah. Jedi build is not to be fucked with. All that damage except for anything aimed at the Scylla and some good shots at the Acheron was all thanks to Mr. Ashour's deft scythe-play. He could have probably taken everything out except the Scylla (starting where I put him, I think getting to the Acheron would have been tricky if he had gone for the bottom two Arthrons instead, though) but due to Tar Shadow and those other two Arthrons panicking, I did what work I could with the rest of my team.

Asia Howard leaped up to one of the high ledges to throw out one of her turrets, which put some work in on softening the Scylla up. Milas Johnston did some work on the Acheron, everyone else aimed at the Scylla with whatever they had on hand, and the Scylla's willpower was low enough thanks to Omar's incredibly-demoralizing rampage that the Exalted could force it to Panic as well. That meant a free round where I could finish everyone off.

First order of business, those Tar Shadow Arthrons. They had fled the fire and holed up behind the Chiron corpses, so I threw down a second grenade and popped them with just enough damage to ensure they die in a fire next turn. The other two Arthrons were pretty easy. They just fled behind the pillars where my folks were ready to take them apart. As for the Scylla...

Cake.

That was just the opener, though. Beyond the gate were two Sirens, two Chirons - and unlike the two at the gate, these were explosive mortar types - and our main target: the Yuggothian Receptacle.

Nothing changed from last time. Still a damage sponge, still a ticking clock thanks to Mark of the Void. We had to run the gauntlet and then play whack-a-mole, trying to shoot it from whichever of those shields fails to come up. All the while, reinforcements would be periodically coming up from the pits scattered around. There'll be lots of camping, but it's not a picnic.

This is getting a bit long and I'm running out of attachments for this post, so I'll split this into two parts. Part 2 is here.

#phoenix point #after-action archive #2nd gig #long post

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the-obiwan-for-me · 3 years

Text

Clan of Two

I had every intention of participating in Bo-Katan Week 2021 for the whole week. But real life is tough, and so is my main fic right now, and it just didn’t happen. But I got struck by inspiration when I realized last night what the prompt for today is. So, here’s my single contribution for Bo-Katan Week!

She found the boy in the tiny galley of the stolen gunship, nursing a mug of weak looking tea. The poor kid's face was swollen and angry looking. She wouldn't be surprised if his orbital bone was fractured. She knew from experience that that brute of a traitor, Gar Saxon, packed a punch.

Physically, he looked rough. But he was a Kryze, and he wore his emotions loudly, just like she did. Just like Satine. And he looked shell shocked and angry and drowning in grief, just like she felt.

She slid into the bench across from him and took a long pull off a bottle of tihaar she'd found stashed away. She passed it to him. He looked at it incredulously for a moment, then took his own swig, surprising her when he didn't wince like she expected. Perhaps the kid was tougher than she thought.

"How's your head?" she asked.

He picked at the label on the bottle for several heartbeats. "She was my mother, you know."

Bo-Katan swallowed the stone that seemed lodged in her throat, then nodded. "I know that."

He looked at her, dumbstruck, his unswollen eye blazing the same fierce crystalline blue as his mother's. He took another swig from the bottle, handed it back. "How did you know?"

Bo-Katan snorted a humorless laugh. "First of all, bleaching your hair only makes you look more like your mother." He glanced away, sheepish. "But mostly, it doesn't take much to spot a Kryze. And Satine is-" a sob she had not anticipated caught in her chest- "was my only sibling. You're no foundling."

He studied her for a while, working something through in his head. She sat quietly, giving him the room he needed to process. Then he finally sighed, squaring his broad shoulders. "Why didn't you try to kill me when you were with Death Watch, if it's that easy to tell?"

Bo-Katan sighed herself. "I wouldn't allow it."

He gave her another astonished look. It was becoming a habit. "You had that much power?" he scoffed.

She shrugged. "I was second in command. But, no, it wasn't like that." She picked at the label herself, recalling memories, some still too fresh to even feel like memories. She drowned them with a heavy drink of tihaar, then handed it to him. "Vizsla was tenacious, but he also could have the attention span of a Corellian grass squirrel. You would come up, and I would distract him."

He drank from the bottle and stared at her, his gaze hard. "Couldn't you have done that for my mother? Your sister?"

"Listen, kid, I never intended for that to happen!" she shouted, jumping to her feet to pace, gesturing wildly back in the imagined direction of Mandalore. "None of this was supposed to happen! I didn't even want to deal with those monsters! I tried to talk Pre out of it, especially once I knew that one had such a thing for Kenobi." The sob worked itself loose from her chest and she fought back the hot tears that wanted to follow it. The heat of her anger sparked the fire of her grief. "None of this was supposed to happen. I tried, Korkie. I tried." She stopped, staring down at her boots, wondering absently whose blood splattered them. "At least I got you out."

"I know." It was said softly, almost a whisper. She raised her gaze to meet his. "I….I just know."

"How do you know? Why should you trust me?"

"I mean, you did get me, and my friends, out. And I saw what you tried to do for others in the aftermath. You do care about Mandalore." He stood and moved toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder. He was tall, and broad chested, and in many ways reminded her of her father. But in so many ways, he was so completely, uniquely different. "And Mum trusted you immediately. She forgave you, instantly. I don't know much. She didn't talk about you except about when you two were small. I don't know what happened, but whatever it was, it wasn't so bad that she couldn't forgive you." He squeezed her shoulder, let his arm drop. "So, I should probably try to do the same. I'm going to try, ok, Auntie?"

She reached up and tenderly brushed a hand along his cheek. She was so rarely tender. She had so rarely been shown tenderness. But she could be gentle for him. He was all she had left, now, and he was too much like his mother to be treated like every other ruthless brute that had shaped her. "This is how I know you're her child, ad'ika. You could dye your hair purple and grow a beard and cover your face with tattoos. But that, right there, is how I know."

He smiled sadly, his eyes shiny with the threat of tears. He took her hand from his face and squeezed it. "Vor entye, ba'vodu."

She squeezed back before letting his hand go. "No debts here, Korkie. I am in your debt."

He turned, rubbing his chin as he made his way back to the table, deep in thought. "What do we do now?" He drank from the bottle and handed it to her as she passed him, moving around the small space until she found a medkit.

"First, you let me patch up that face of yours," she said, sitting next to him before taking her own drink. "Then, if you're willing, we fight for our home. We fight for your mother's legacy."

He nodded once as she gently began to clean the cuts and scrapes along his face. "I am willing." He hissed in pain as she prodded along his orbital bone. It was definitely fractured. "But I don't know if I want to fight like you."

She picked up the bacta spray and gave it a shake. "Fair enough."

"And after that?"

"Well, we're family. We'll take care of each other."

He huffed out a breath. "You had a chance to be my family for eighteen years." He said it with a sharpness and bitterness she hadn't expected, sounding more like a petulant, angry teenager. He was an angry teenager, she reminded herself. Beyond that, even. The world as he knew it has been destroyed. Burned to the ground, in large part due to actions she had taken, or, at the very least, been able to prevent.

She had once been a teenager whose world had been burned to the ground, too.

So, she decided to try and take a page from her sister’s book. She forgave his sharp words.

She sighed, cupping his cheek softly, turning his face to hers. “I am beginning to regret that I didn’t take my chance more and more each day,” she said quietly. “We’re a clan of two, now, and we have to take care of each other. I won’t lose you, too. I plan on keeping you safe.” She rummaged through the medkit, pulling out the skin adhesive. “Now sit still while I glue this shut.”

He looked apologetic, took a sip of tihaar, and sat quietly, letting her work.

They sat like that for a while, Bo-Katan, working gently to glue shut a cut across Korkie’s temple. Korkie hummed a tune that Bo-Katan recognized as a lullaby her father sang to her and Satine when they were small. She mused to herself that she and Korkie would have nearly matching scars as she worked.

He suddenly jolted, looking up to meet her eyes. “If you knew she was my mum, can you tell me who my father is?”

Bo-Katan fought the urge to grimace, then gave herself a moment to compose herself, plan out the right thing to say. “Your mother and I weren’t really speaking when she would have been pregnant with you.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not at all.

But it also wasn’t the absolute whole truth, either.

She knew who the father was. Or, at least, she had strong suspicion. She didn’t need to be a mathematician to realize Satine had to have become pregnant during her year with the two Jedi. One of which had the same nose, the same strong jaw, the same auburn hair that was just beginning to show in the roots of Korkie’s bleached hair. It was an easy enough guess. She was surprised he hadn’t guessed it already, really.

But, for now, she’d keep it herself. This boy didn’t need to know that the man who had come to save his mother, but, instead, caused her death, was his father. One day, maybe. Maybe when he wasn’t so fragile. When the world didn’t feel so utterly destroyed for the both of them.

He seemed to accept her answer. He nodded once, closed his eyes, and settled back into letting her repair the gash on his temple, humming softly to himself.

There was very little she could do to make amends for all the horror she had allowed to be wrought on their home. But she could do two things: she could fight to get it back, and she absolutely would protect her sister's son until her very last breath.

#bo katan week #bo katan week day 6 #bkw 2021 #bo katan and korkie #bo katan kryze #korkie kryze #satine kryze #post the lawless #fudging the timeline a tiny bit #korkie is a kenobi #if you're reading something I wrote you KNOW he's going to be a kenobi

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artcupcakes · 3 years

Text

When Hoxton was first rescued the tension between him and Houston was so hostile that they couldn’t be trusted in the same room.

Hoxton would provoke and Houston didn’t take it lightly. Instead of muttering some some retort that was harmless instead Houston had a habit of making it... a bit too personal.

And so, punches would be thrown.

No matter how much Dallas and Chains mediate, they did not seem to cooperate. Even being dangerous to work together. Dallas thought his younger brother’s more professional standards would stop that, but no. They wouldn’t get along no matter the outside influence.

But they where able to figure it out on their own.

After a long heist gone wrong, an argument broke out. This was a stealth orientated heist. Both Hoxton and Houston where needed. As the mission went on, their arguing and jabs left them distracted and a guard saw them.

Forcing it to go loud.

The tension had reached a boiling point due to this.

This argument was about to get more violent than usual.

And with everyone else unloading loot or other wise, their was nobody to break them up. And they knew this. They purposely isolated this fight away from the group.

But Hoxton underestimated how much damage he took during the heist. Breaking armor took something out of you, and he was not ready for the fight compared to Houston who dodged most of the damage in just a suit.

After a hit that let Hoxton knock against the wall, Houston fully lost face.

He screamed his disillusionment at Hoxton.

This was the man his brother respected and cared for? This was the man whose legacy he had to live up to? This was the measuring stick? To think he looked up to the idea of this man! To think that this was the man he wanted to impress. That this was the man he thought was going to be a peer. Houston might’ve thought he needed to prove himself before but now? Now Houston knows he better. Why did Hoxton deserve his place back? Why did this asshole get to take a place that gave Houston purpose and belonging? Because that’s how it was before? How is that a justification? How was he more loved? Why did he ever believe his brother anyways?!!!

Hoxton could only give a disbelieving bloodied stare at Houston while he broke down.

Hoxton disappointed many in the past for sure, but those where his peers. The only one to really look up to him was Clover. And that made sense. He chose her, trained her, and her betrayal was a final test of sorts. He was her mentor.

This replacement of his was none of that.

So why would the fake look up to him? The mind of an imposter was not something he knew. Yet here stood one baring it out. He thought it was the wish to be the other. To have what the other had. And at first glance it seemed like that. But if that was true for this problem then why did he crave peership?

Houston cheeks red with embarrassed mortification as his speech. Realizing what he had say. As if he said something he regretted. So he stormed away. All lost in his own head.

And Hoxton stood their, mind mirroring the other.

His head active yet strangely calm.

It was the first time in a while when his thoughts weren’t faced on a job or looking for another rat. His paranoia still scratched at anything it could. Still searching and scratching for reason. A hyper vigilance that so easily down spiraled.

He hated what Houston represent.

An easy replacement. A lack of worth. Showed he was something to be thrown away.

But that’s clearly not how Houston saw it.

It was confusing, but he slowly thought through it. He reached a conclusion. It wasn’t a pretty one. But it worked. So Dallas and Clover could get off his back, and stop their meddling.

So he began to move.

He barely avoided being seen by Dallas who was fuming. He grabbed a medkit and went to where Houston was.

A knock on the door was answered with Houston yelling for Dallas to fuck off. It was only his expense in stealth that stopped him from laughing.

He entered the workshop and Houston tensed.

Before the thought of fighting could be fully formed Hoxton present his peace offering.

As they bandaged themselves, not a word was spoken.

A silent truce.

It wasn’t a super friendly one, but considering their mutually destructive begins it worked. You don’t have to like someone to understand them.

So they stuck to mean name calling and minor barbs. Observing for when a comment put that silent truce in danger. Mutual trust to distrust.

It was workable.

They could be trusted to do jobs together.

And if either one of them agitated the other to get on Dallas’s nerves? Well, it was funny. And Dallas deserved it a little.

And it was not like anyone was going to even mentioned the friendlier tones and smirks during those arguments.

The rat was dead.

And maybe the damage it left was repairable.

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sillyezra · 7 months

Text

legacy medkit :3 he’s so silly i love him … who should I draw next? ^_^

#phighting!#art #fanart #silly #silly little guy #so silly #funny #silly goofy mood #hehehe #hehe :3 #hi hello #i love him #illustration #digital art #digital illustration #costco staff tried to detain me over items i’d paid for unless they ‘doodled’ on the receipt – my camera stopped them

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

Take Me Home

This is @tsarinatorment ‘s fault. She wrote this amazing fic where neither Gordon or Scott come out particularly well. Please read the warnings on that fic before reading.

Consequently, the Virgil in my head went completely apeshit and demanded to be heard.

So, here we have a sequel to @tsarinatorment ‘s fic where Virgil arrives on scene.

Thank you to both @tsarinatorment and @janetm74 for the readthough and support.

No real warnings on this one. Scott and Gords haven’t had a good time and a lot of Virgil comfort was needed. I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

The air burned as Thunderbird Two killed speed above Brize Norton, her presence forecast by an urgent Thunderbird Five.

Three words.

“We found him.”

It had been a week since Scott had disappeared from a night club in Italy. A business conference that his brother had both been loathing and anticipating. The former because of the smarmy hangers on, the second for the chance at a little nightlife.

Security was an issue. It was always an issue. But Kayo had been on it.

A bomb, three dead security guards, five dead civilians and a nightclub of terrified patrons had been the result.

How far someone would go to obtain a Tracy had been underestimated.

And Scott was gone.

Kayo went mad. Horrified and furious, she was inconsolable. She disappeared, the only proof of life a word or two from an equally apoplectic Penelope.

They would find him or die trying.

John wasn’t much better. His initial frantic was replaced with cold and calculated. Eos was everywhere.

But despite all that, despite the power and skill of the Tracy legacy, it still took five days to discover even an inkling of what had happened.

A cult. A bunch of fanatics who claimed Scott was a messiah or something.

Virgil stood in the lounge staring at Penelope’s lips as they explained that his brother was still missing and they still didn’t even know where to look.

By evening Gordon was gone as well.

It was Alan who discovered their aquanaut’s absence and if Virgil clung to his little brother just a little longer than was needed, his excuse was simply that he needed to do SOMETHING and if comfort was all he could give, then by god, he was going to give it.

Another two days. With half his family missing it was Grandma who kept him sane. Grounded him in a way no meagre hobby of use of his hands could do.

And then Aunt Val finally made the call.

“We found him.”

Thunderbird Two hit the ground with a thump. Eyes of GDF personnel stared up at her, but Virgil ignored them as he grabbed a medkit, lowered himself to the tarmac and ran.

Scott had been found.

It was with hope and a little dread that he followed the GDF aide into the depths of the building.

The dread increased as he was led to an office that clearly did not hold his brother. The desk and two chairs only emphasized the emptiness of the room.

The moment his godmother walked in, his heart plummeted.

“Where is he?”

Her eyes were kind. “Virgil, he’s safe. He’s with Gordon.”

“Gordon?”

Aunt Val looked away and sat down on the edge of the desk. “Yes, your brother was very…persistent in this matter.”

Virgil frowned. Gordon had worked with the GDF? “I would have thought that would be expected.” A breath. “Are they okay?”

Aunt Val looked back at him. “Yes. Though Scott is still unconscious. A harmless sedative according to scans. Gordon has him.”

“Then why am I here and not with them?” His fists clenched and unclenched.

She looked down at his gloved hands before again catching his eyes. “They will be here shortly.” A small frown crinkled her forehead. “Virgil…tread carefully.”

The words were meant kindly, but they only wound him up more. Where were his brothers?

Before he could say anything, the door behind him was nudged open and Gordon staggered in carrying their eldest brother.

Virgil didn’t think. He just acted.

“Oh god, Gordon!”

He moved in, reaching for them, only to have his little brother stagger backwards out of reach.

“Gordon?” The aquanaut was ever so pale, his face a little scratched as if he had been scrubbing it with his fingernails. The GDF uniform was baggy on him as if it didn’t quite fit properly. But it was his eyes that were the worst.

They were haunted.

“Gordy?”

His brother blinked as Scott’s head lolled against his shoulder. “Virg?”

Ever so gentle. “Hey, Fish.”

Gordon’s arms were trembling under his brother’s weight, his white knuckles clinging to the sickly grey of Scott’s uniform.

“Can I see him?” Virgil took a small step forward, his eyes on Scott.

Gordon blinked. “Sure.” But the aquanaut made no offer to come any closer.

“Do you want to sit down? Here…” Virgil grabbed one of the chairs and gestured Gordon to sit in it.

Virgil bit the inside of his cheek.

But Gordon slid into the chair and Virgil was thankful. His little brother was so pale…

But Scott…Virgil crouched down and reached into the medkit, grabbing the scanner. The flash of yellow startled Gordon and his eldest brother was drawn closer to the aquanaut. Regardless, the readouts started streaming back to the tablet in Virgil’s hand.

Oh, thank god.

It was as his godmother had said. Unconscious, but his vitals were good. Strong indicators of a familiar but mostly harmless sedative in his system. He may as well have been asleep.

Of course, Virgil would be happier if he were awake, but he was so grateful to be seeing him after so long, it knotted in his throat.

But he couldn’t let the relief flow just yet.

There was definitely something wrong with Gordon.

The yellow light flickered over his fish brother and he flinched again.

It was both a relief and a worry that only Gordon’s historic injuries registered. Inflammation was forming at the base of his spine, probably in reaction to the weight he was carrying. Scott was far from light. Virgil knew from experience. Gordon had the arms and the strength, but not the stability and it was likely adrenalin and desperation were a big player in the fact his little brother could still clutch Scott to his chest.

Virgil slipped the scanner and tablet back into the medkit and quietly dropped it to the floor.

Pulling off his gloves, he let them drop to the floor beside the kit.

Gordon’s eyes followed his every move.

A pause, and then holding his breath, Virgil reached out and lay a gentle hand on Gordon’s shoulder.

When his brother didn’t flinch away, he squeezed gently. “Let’s take him home.”

Gordon blinked at him, staring.

“Gordon?”

Another blink. “Yes. Virgil. Take him home.”

But his brother didn’t move.

Scott continued to breathe evenly against Gordon’s collar bone.

Virgil reached out and brushed a finger through Scott’s hair, both for himself and to gauge Gordon’s response.

His fish brother immediately drew Scott in tighter and away from Virgil.

The medic let a quiet breath out between his teeth.

He knew what this was. There were textbooks and diagnoses and he had encountered it in the field himself many times.

It hurt more when it was a brother.

Cautiously but determined, Virgil moved the hand on Gordon’s shoulder to the back of his neck and the bare skin there. Pressing warm palm to tense neck muscles, he leant in and touched his forehead to Gordon’s ever so softly.

Quiet. Loving. “He’s safe, Gords. You can let go. You’ve saved him.”

There was nothing at first, other than a fine tremble of muscles used past their limit.

Then…

“Virgil?” His name was little more than a sob.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe. Scott’s safe. We can go home.” A pause. He exhaled, relief in his voice. “We can go home.”

There was a strangled sound before Gordon once again went silent. But his head slipped slowly past Virgil’s to land on his shoulder.

A moment of hesitation, wary his brother might bolt, and Virgil slid his other arm around both Scott and his little brother.

There was no sound other than Scott’s even breathing.

Gordon continued to tremble.

Virgil sat there, giving his brother time. He didn’t know what had happened to either of them, but he did know it was bad and it hurt.

His heart ached for Gordon and feared what would happen when Scott awoke. What horrors had both of them witnessed? How badly were his brothers injured in ways no medical scanner could ever reveal?

If he clung a little to both of them, he felt he had enough reason.

But Gordon was obviously exhausted and Scott needed to go home. Scanner or no scanner, Virgil wouldn’t be happy until they were both safe on Tracy Island under the watchful eye of Grandma.

He pulled away slowly to find Gordon almost asleep and blinking up at him wearily.

Virgil caught those tired eyes. “Let me help you.” He slipped his arms under Scott and gently lifted him away from Gordon.

Gordon continued to stare blearily.

“C’mon, bro. Let’s go home.”

Scott’s head lolled on Virgil’s shoulder as the engineer pushed himself to his feet arms full of big brother. Big being the keyword.

Gordon blinked, looked at his empty lap and then back up at Virgil.

“I’ve got him, Gords.”

The aquanaut stared a moment longer before nodding once and getting to his feet. He reached down and grabbed the medkit and Virgil’s gloves as if an automaton.

Virgil eyed him a moment longer before turning towards the door.

The expression on Aunt Val’s face stopped him in his tracks.

Her eyes were wide, but he frowned at her and stopped her from saying anything.

A swallow and she held the door. They slipped through quietly.

Corridors and doors and finally the ever so welcome sight of his ‘bird.

Gordon walked beside him as Two lowered her hatch. Stepping aboard, Virgil turned and nodded at their godmother who had followed them out.

No words were necessary.

Gordon leant in and his head touched Virgil’s shoulder.

A moment and the hatch retrieved them into Two’s belly.

They were going home.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #tsarinatorment

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ryqoshay · 5 years

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How did u think of the username ryqoshay?

The tl;dr version is that I was tired of Ricochet typically being taken in the games I was playing years ago and decided to rework it into something a bit more unique. And she grew into something more.

The full story will be under the cut as my trips down nostalgia lane tend to run long.

Ricochet started off as a character I created for a story I was writing years ago based on games I played as a child. The games were not electronic, rather based around physical toys and the characters and events were made up on the spot by my friend and I.

While our games generally focused on battles and conflict between two established groups, the story I decided to write focused more on the characters of the protagonist group and their interactions. Worth mentioning here that the focus group was a crew of mercenaries as it will come into play later. I realized that the current cast was comprised mainly of front line fighters and wanted to flesh out the team with some back line and support members; medical, recon, intel, etc.

Enter Ricochet. I liked the idea of taking a stereotypical stoic and battle-hardened sniper character and turning it on its head by making a hyperactive, adorable little girl. A character whose slightly warped idea of cute included heavy weaponry and thus treated her gun like a teddy bear, even going so far as bringing it to bed with her.

The name itself had a dual meaning as it referred both to how she was always “bouncing off the walls” and an intentionally ironic reference to a typically undesirable outcome for a sniper. Her given name at the time was Rebecca; Becky is fine, but don’t call her Becca or Reba.

I don’t recall if I addressed her parents in this iteration, but Rico entered the team under the care of Tackleberry. Yes, that Tackleberry; he was my friend’s favorite character from Police Academy, though I believe what I’ve turned him into maintains only the name and obsession with weapons. I already had him as the former legal guardian of another character, so I figured giving him someone new to oversee would be fine.

Then I stopped writing that story. And it remains on indefinite hiatus to this day.

City of Heroes was released and a friend convinced me to join. I was drawing a blank in character development when I stumbled across the Assault Rifle/Devices build and Rico jumped up out of my memories. The name Ricochet was taken so I tacked on -chan to the end as I was quite addicted to anime by this point in my life. This also gave me the excuse to weeb out and insert random Japanese words into her speech patterns as her linage was now half Japanese and half U.S. born Caucasian.

I designed a diminutive, blonde girl sporting high twintails and a dark purple flak jacket outfit with black accents. Her short backstory described a her as having two heroes for parents and wanting to live up to her family legacy. And as said parents were still around, Tack dropped out of the picture.

I liked Rico so much I started translating her over to other games as well as using her name in my overall online presence, as small as it was then. Ricochet itself was pretty much always taken, so I often had to modify the name in some way, be it by adding -chan or shortening it to Rico or whatever.

Then came the game changer; City of Villains. It came as no surprise that Ricochet was taken, but I was getting tired of using -chan and my other methods, so I decided to create something new. This would be the first time I used Ryqoshay, an intentional misspelling of Ricochet for a character.

Since CoV allowed a short backstory like its predecessor, I knew I had to come up with an in-universe reason for the name change; I also still fancied myself a writer, even though I hadn’t really written much in a while. I figured a villain might do well with a more tragic backstory than a hero, so I offed her parents. The character limit didn’t allow for specifics on the where, when, why and how, but I made sure to mention that she took the first letter of their names - Yuri and Quentin - to rename herself Ryqoshay.

It was at this point, Ryqo also finally received a family name, Bouteillevoix, and with it, a change in linage to half Japanese and half French. I don’t recall the specifics of how I settled on Bouteillevoix iteself, but I do remember liking the dissonance of an outspoken character bearing a name meaning “bottle voice” as if it were to be contained in some way.

For her aestetic design, I swapped out the black for white in her outfit to use the Dark Is Not Evil and Light Is Not Good tropes; dark purple remained, however. This also meant her hair went from blonde to black. And her twintails went from high to low in an attempt to appear a bit more mature, though she maintained her high energy personality.

Also, while not mentioned in her in-game bio, Tack was able to reenter the picture as a Commando, the highest level Summon of Ryqo’s Mastermind power set.

While I wasn’t actively writing stories about her, I was certainly fleshing her out as a character with notes and whatnot. Quentin and Yuri also got some attention as I ended up designing alternate dimension versions of them for me to play. And as the alt-oholic I am in MMORPGs, I also came up with some alternate dimension versions of Ryqo herself; Ryqoshot, a lonewolf gunslinger using the Corrupter’s Assault Rifle power set and Ryqoaraignée, an Arachnos Crab Spider build who was more closely aligned with Arachnos than her other versions.

With all of the alts I was creating, I decided to use the game’s guild mechanics to pass stuff among them. Thus, Ryqo’s Roughnecks was born, named after Rico’s Roughnecks of Starship Troopers fame. Joining members included L4t3ncy_0, a mechanical Mastermind; Recipere, - Rx for short - a thug Mastermind who kept her crew alive with healing powers; Yozakura, a ninja Stalker serving as Ryqo’s bodyguard and Vivian Sexon, a dual-wielding Brute and villainous translation of a dual-wielding Scrapper from my CoH days.

Not long after, a friend invited me to join a game of D&D. The team needed a door kicker so I brought in Vivian as a brutish barbarian with a split personality, Sanguine, taking control when she raged. My intended two paragraph introduction quickly turned into two pages, which eventually turned into twenty and started translating over other Roughnecks; Ryqo included.

Ryqo dropped her sniper rifles in favor of a more theme appropriate bow and arrow. L4t3ncy_0′s call sign was changed to Nullsiver Luna and she became an artificer who struggled against the world’s tech limits. Recipere, not surprisingly, took on the role of a cleric. Yozakura kept her ninja trappings, but started playing by the Bodyguard Crush trope as I was deep into yuri shipping at that point thanks to the likes of Lucky Star and others.

Even after the game stalled out, I continued to work with the DM to build their world in which all of their games took place. The Roughnecks gained a permanent place in the timeline, extending both before and after Ryqo’s time as their leader, as well as a permanent base of operations, which eventually grows into a full fledged township later at the behest of Ryqo (spoilers should I ever get around to posting these stories.)

My online presence was growing and with it, Ryqo. She became my main when I returned to WoW, a Blood Elf Hunter running around with a giant Devilsaur as a pet; yes, she would think it was cute. (She was changed to Human when I followed by guild to another server that needed more Alliance players.) My Demon Hunter main in Diablo 3 was named Ryqoshay, as a surprise to absolutely none of my friends at the time.

Aion was a strange exception insofar as I wasn’t fond of the Ranger class for my primarily solo playstyle. I still made said ranger and of course named her Ryqoshay, but my main in that game was a Chanter known as Ameliorator, a more fanciful version of MedKit, the character for whom Tack was a legal guardian in the story mentioned above. However, I still played out the Ryqo persona on the forums because I enjoyed it and I’d long forgotten Med/Ame’s personality from that old story.

When Love Live started to take over my life and I found Sukutomo, I went with Ryqoshay as my screen name for reasons I don’t fully recall. I started this tumblr account as a way to post some “Idolsona” stuff where I translated Ryqo into a LL style idol, along with Yoza, Luna and a newer Roughneck, Flash Pyre. And when I started writing my fics, it was easy to use the account I already had here and then keep the name when I went over to AO3.

Hindsight being 20/20, I probably should have chosen Nico as my primary icon, as her appearance is closer to Ryqo’s than Maki’s, even if she wears her twintails high like Rico instead of Ryqo’s low tails. Neither Nico nor Maki have grey eyes as I’ve given Ryqo, so that wouldn’t fit, but none of the LL characters do thus far. That said, Maki prefers purple more than Nico and Ryqo isn’t much a fan of pink, so maybe that played into things? Perhaps someday I will commission one of my favorite artists to draw Ryqo as I envision her and start using her as my avatar, someday… maybe.

Also worth mentioning that NicoMaki has had a heavy influence on how I envision Ryqo and Yoza, and vice versa. Heck I’ve directly translated some NicoMaki doujin into scenes for my D&D story and sprinkled some RyqoYoza stuff into HtHaN. With HtHaM being a more D&D’ish setting, I may very well steal some stuff from my D&D story for it. Perhaps Luna or Vivian might make an appearance? I’ve already referenced Ryqo when Maki remembers hearing stories of an 11 year old girl taking over a mercenary guild. As always, I shall follow where my µ’s muse leads.

In conclusion, while Maki - with Nico very close behind - may hold a position as my favorite fictional character not created by me, Ryqo easily tops that position as my favorite overall; yes, the fact that I created her absolutely factors into this bias. There are reasons I don’t bring her up often - beyond using her as a screen name, posting through her persona on a few forums and the Idolsona thing - not the least of which include a fear of her being labeled a self-insert or Mary Sue or whatever, as I’ve seen some decidedly distasteful reactions to such characters online. But there is also the fact that the bulk of her development has been within a world not designed by me, but by one of my DMs, and I would want to ensure they would be fine with me posting stuff about said world; I’m sure they would be fine, but I haven’t gotten around to asking. Perhaps someday, I might post more about Ryqo. Perhaps writing more of HtHaM will inspire me to take my D&D story off hiatus, dust it off and have a talk with my DM about posting it. In the meantime, I will continue to use her namesake for my online and in-game presence because she is a character I hold very dear.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for joining me in my journey through nostalgia. And I hope this sufficiently addresses Anon’s question.

#Ryqo's Q&A

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tombraidergirl · 6 years

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SotTR Impressions (1): Reveal Demo

On 26 April 2018 I was given the opportunity to try out the first hands-on demo for Shadow of the Tomb Raider at the London reveal event to which I was kindly invited by Square Enix Germany. Square Enix sponsored my travel an accommodations to this event.

Shadow of the Tomb Raider will complete the story arc that began in Tomb Raider - where adventure found young, fresh-from-college Lara Croft, forcing her to fight for survival - and was continued in Rise of the Tomb Raider - where Lara actively sought out adventure to honour her father’s legacy. In Shadow of the Tomb Raider Lara chooses to continue searching for great archaeological and mythological mysteries, out of curiosity and her love for adventure, slowly turning her into the adventuress we know and love from the classic games.

In the past couple of years the reboot series had to endure a lot of criticism pertaining to Lara’s character and the fact that her weak side was showing, but what people keep forgetting is that the Lara from the classic games (with the exception of Angkor Wat in The Last Revelation and Ireland in Chronicles - which didn’t portrait a very believable character if you’re honest ;-) - which is okay btw, it's fiction) was a seasoned explorer in her late twenties or early thirties (born in 1968). Her original storyline was that an event - in that case a plane crash - at the age of 21 made her turn her life upside down, becoming the heroine of Tomb Raider I and everything after. A storyline that Tomb Raider Legend kind of messed up and Tomb Raider (2013) then tried to fix by getting back to the roots, but replacing the plane crash with a shipwreck to add something fresh, instead of doing Legend’s Nepal again at the “correct” age. So where in the original game was it written that 21-year-old Lara didn’t have weaknesses? I can sympathise with people not loving to play a softer Lara, when we got to know and love her as a tough cookie, but that’s over with anyway, and so is this discussion I hope.

Shadow adds a new layer of toughness to Lara. Her body has changed visibly, her well toned muscles clearly showing. Her face seems a little less soft - something that is probably going to be discussed at length on the internet with comments along the lines of “why did they change her face again” - which is only logical given what she has been through in the recent years.

Story

Lara and Jonah are in Cozumel, Mexico hot on the trail of one Dr. Dominguez, a member of the Trinity order, searching for a hidden underground temple holding a key, the “Key of Chak Chel” to some mystery. Lara herself is trying to beat them to it and believes to have the upper hand as a second piece of the puzzle, the “Silver Box of Ix Chel”, Trinity is searching for in Brazil, might actually be located in Peru according to her own calculations. The Day of the Dead, or Día de Muertos, is being celebrated presenting Lara and Jonah with the opportunity to blend in, Lara hiding her Trinity-wide known face beneath a traditional mask worn for this occasion. With Jonah’s help Lara manages to follow Dominguez, whom Lara begins to suspect of being the actual leader of Trinity. She learns that while they are still unsuccessful in Brazil, they might have found the entrance to the hidden complex here in Cozumel. Gaining entrance to the dig site Lara manages to find a cave entrance Trinity has so far ignored. This ultimately leads her into the heart of the complex, an underground Maya pyramid, where she finds a large mural telling the story of Kukulkan, the creation god, and tells of a ritual that - when combining the key and the box - summons him. But it also warns of many catastrophes, in the order: tsunami, storm, earthquake, and volcanic eruptions. Lara then spots a circular stone tablet depicting the Hydra constellation which is misaligned. After aligning it, the hiding place of the Key of Chak Chel, an ancient ornate dagger, is revealed to her. While Lara marvels at the artefact, she receives a warning from Jonah via the two-way radio that Trinity is closing in. Without having time to think, Lara grabs the artefact and thus inadvertently sets things into motion. “What have I done?” Lara manages to escape the underground structure but is surprised by Dominguez and his men who take the dagger from her and tell her that by grabbing the artefact she started the apocalypse and that the first harbinger, the tsunami, is on its way. Lara manages to escape the tsunami, while witnessing the destruction it leaves in its wake, and is able to reunite with Jonah. She tells him what has happened and that she has lost the dagger to Trinity and that the foremost thing on her mind is beating Trinity in the race for the Box to prevent Trinity from realising their dreams for a new world order. Jonah maintains that Lara is not at fault for the tsunami. “Not everything is about you.” He believes that helping the survivors of the tsunami should be their priority.

Gameplay

In the first part of the demo Lara explores the town square and has the opportunity to interact with a couple of people, by talking to them, and learning more about their lives; a gameplay mechanism that has been introduced in the Reboot, where Lara could talk to the other Endurance survivors and returning in Rise where minor interactions with the Remnant were possible. But Shadow takes the whole thing a step further, as the whole market scene is not really relevant for progressing with the main story, but gives the environment a more lively feel. The market also offers the first resources in the form of a medkit and some herbs.

Another gameplay element returning is the fluent switch between cut scenes and playable scenes, when Jonah distracts two goons to allow Lara to sneak past and explore the back alleys and reach the dig site, which is well guarded and locked down. She then reaches another exploration area, a nice and quiet location with the remains of ruined Maya structures where more resources can be found, including resource crates and where Lara uses the wall scramble, the move that gets her up and over high walls.

Lara’s use of the climbing axe has also improved, offering new ways of traversal not seen in the reboot games yet. Besides climbing on craggy walls, she can now attach the rope she carries to rappel up or down, to use that rope to perform a so called rappel swing and reach far off platforms, and to perform wall runs to again reach far off platforms.

Lara finally locates a cave entrance allowing her passage to yet another type of area, where she meets her first prey in the form of the well known and difficult to shoot rats that can be killed for hide and +25 XP. The new gameplay elements introduced here are the ability to disarm spear traps by cutting tripwire ropes using the knife Lara carries and the improved diving skill that gives Lara a new freedom when exploring under water. Unfortunately Lara has not brought the rebreather from Rise along but she is now able to use pockets of trapped air to extend her time underwater.

After making her way through the underwater passages Lara finally reaches the interesting bit where a series of counterweights waits to be figured out to allow her to ascend upwards. Through the use of carts that can be pushed, tethered to other objects like cranks, or rotated around on a turntable, Lara can use them to break through walls and to weight down platforms. It seems like more of these kinds of puzzles have made their way from the challenge tombs - of which there were none in the demo by the way - into the base game.

(Concept Art)

Another well known gameplay element is a water slide scene, where Lara has to be steered down a torrential stream, avoiding deadly traps.

The axe can still be used to pry open doors, widen cracks in walls and even to break windows in this game.

The resources found in Shadow of the Tomb Raider are more plentiful if we are to believe what the developers told us and besides the known resources like herbs, cloths, hide, hardwood (which can also be dug up from hidden caches) we were able to spot ready made medkits and stimulants. More known elements returning are murals - which will now improve Laras overall knowledge of the culture rather than her language skills in particular - shootable targets as part of a challenge and explorer backpacks or maps - that give Lara the location of hidden collectables.

Impressions

Let me begin with Jonah, because he’s right there at the beginning of the demo. I have spoken with quite a few fans who thought that reboot Jonah seemed a lot tougher than Rise Jonah and who missed that tougher side of him. But in Shadow tough Jonah is back. While in Rise I got the feeling that Jonah wasn’t really there of his own free will but coerced by Lara to be there, but in Shadow he’s back and seems genuinely interested in the adventure. He actively helps Lara by distracting mercenaries. The two seem like equals, two adventurers who can both hold their own, no one in need of comforting and supporting (Lara by Jonah in the Reboot) or of rescuing (Jonah by Lara in Rise). Something that does return from Rise is their occasional difference of opinion resulting in heated discussions not unlike the one that occurred in Croft Manor in Rise of the Tomb Raider.

The Cozumel part is a little reminiscent of the Syria section of Rise. It has Lara finding a hidden tomb or temple, it gives a kind of introduction into traps, but Cozumel is a little more bombastic adding a calm town exploration to it (a little like the very beginning of Peru in Tomb Raider Legend but without the town folk hiding in their houses - a better comparison would be another game that is not Tomb Raider where such explorations of towns with lots of friendly characters is common but I’ll refrain from such comparison at this point, you might not own a PlayStation :-) ) The climbing sections shortly later are a little like the beginning of Thailand in Underworld but with a more impressive environment, with a view close to the one enjoyed at the Coastal Bluffs in the Reboot. (Or, possibly passages of number 4 of the PlayStation game I am not mentioning here. ;-))

And finally: The top Lara was wearing in the demo (a different one from the one in the screenshots) is getting closer to the classic outfit we know.

#shadow of the tomb raider

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