#madness combat id pack

[sleepiestdreamer]

Deimos ID pack :

Names —

Tech , Hack , Quick , Rush , Evade , Shoot , Startle , Scare , Glitch , Terminal , Secure , Attack , Merc , Mic , Gray , Silver , Faceless .

Pronouns —

Attack/attacks , Hack/hacks , Tech/technician , Fast/faster , Dodge/dodges , Mic/mics , Fear/fears , Chill/chills , Joke/jokes .

Titles —

The quick technician , [prn] who attacks quickly but softly , [prn] who works better with firearms , The skilled hacker , The easily startled one , [prn] who can hack quickly .

Genders —

Starhacker , Deimoscharic , Hackgender , Technogender , Programgender , Loadinggender , Madnesscombatcomfic , Newgroundsgender , Violentgender .

[hampaanirvi]

To-do

Muzzled mutt IDpack/moodboard/fashionboard

Cryptid researcher IDpack/moodboard/fashionboard

Sona keres Mirzoyan (CoD) moodboard

Simon Ghost Riley (CoD) moodboard

Gore NPTs (request)

Keres, Soap, and Ghost (CoD) mask pixels

Ranboo NPTs

Keres (CoD) NPTs

Carrion merfolk NPTs

Merfolk IDpack

Apocalyptic merfolk moodboard

Requests

Organs in an arcade machine (inspired by the song "cabinet man" by lemon demon basically.) NPTs

Deimos from Madness Combat NPTs (notes; violence/gore/apocalyptic themes, masc/neu/alterhuman names.)

Based on "Vending machine of love by The Stupendium" ID pack

Kyouka Izumi from bungo stray dogs ID pack

windows or computer/web themed NPTs

Level 9 (the suburbs), level 11.3 (the red light district), and level 13 (infinite apartments) from backrooms ID pack

Wip

CoD affiliation badge pixels

Self indulgent Dogboy IDpack/Moodboard/fashionboard

Spencer Reid (Criminal minds) moodboard

Immortal Moodboard/IDpack

Firefly (HSR) IDpack (request)

Sweet pup kemonomimi IDpack/moodboard/fashionboard

50x50 bone pixels; mutt, pedigree, untamed

50×50 bone pixels; raccoon, flying lemur, and owl.

Queue

shoto todoroki introject NPTs

[ask-the-crimson-king]

More Stuff from Betrayer

[While on the topic, I want to show the various humans out there a very interesting scene out of Betrayer.

Two, technically, but one that's a bit longer than the other. Image IDs will be provided at the end of the post, cause there's going to be a LOT.

Some interesting insights into how Lorgar views Chaos and a bit about the Emperor as well. I always find this scene to be fascinating, especially since he's borrowed the astropathic choir of the Conquerer to listen to worlds dying across Ultramar while he muses on this.

And then there's when Angron walks up.

Some interesting, albeit a bit morbid, banter between brothers. I do like how Angron even greets Lorgar on the way in, and Lorgar is just standing there stunned. The insights into how Angron views the Devourers is also neat, and it is to be expected at this point. Lorgar trying to argue for them and trying to get Angron to stop ignoring them outright is another neat touch.

The two begin talking of Ultramar, and Lorgar reveals that Nuceria is going to be the capstone for his ritual. Angron asks why, and the following is said:

I like this passage for a few reasons. Firstly, how Angron "dreams" has always been something of interest to me. Because I doubt he ever really gets much rest and respite. Here we get some insight into this, although this also was already expressed a bit earlier. This passage also leads into Angron's recollection of the Night of the Wolf, but I wanted to focus on this.

Lorgar and Angron's "bond" is something that's always intrigued me. It definitely feels more one-sided, with Lorgar seeking for brotherhood that isn't really there, but there are a few moments to make it feel a bit more genuine. However, there is still something missing from these interactions. I can't really describe it other than a barrier between two primarchs who will never see eye-to-eye. Lorgar does, to his credit, try to be understanding and patient throughout, but I can also definitely feel his annoyance coming through at certain places.

In a way, I can almost feel a similar sort of vibe to how Magnus interacts with some of his brothers. Namely with Perturabo in one of the opening chapters of his primarch novel. However, the bond between those two is still very different from the one Angron has with Lorgar; those two actually do have a deep connection, while these two don't. There's a misunderstanding and underestimation coming from both sides in certain aspects; Lorgar in almost sounding condescending to Angron, and Angron still thinking Lorgar a weakling.

TL;DR, Betrayer good.

Image IDs below the cut:

Image ID 1 & 2: A scene from Betrayer where Lorgar is standing and listening to worlds burn. It reads:

Serving as conductor for an astrological orchestra was more taxing than he’d dreamed, though his blunter, more militant brothers would struggle to grasp the finer points of his efforts. Exhaustion left him wondering, even if only briefly, whether absolute peace would create a stellar song as divinely inspired as absolute war. Fate had played its hand and Chaos was destined to swallow all creation whether or not Horus and Lorgar raged against the Imperial war machine, but if what if they’d stayed loyal to the Emperor? What then? Would the Great Crusade have shaped a serene funeral dirge, to play behind the veil as humanity died in a defenceless harrowing?

Therein lay the fatal flaw. The Emperor’s way was compliance, not peace. The two were as repellent to one another as opposing lodestones. It didn’t matter what enlightenment the Imperium stamped out in its conquering crusade when obedience was all its lords desired. It didn’t matter what wars were fought from now into eternity. The Legiones Astartes would always march, for they were born to do so. There would always be war; even if the Great Crusade had been allowed to reach the galaxy’s every edge, there would never be peace. Discontent would seethe. Populations would rebel. Worlds would rise up. Human nature eventually sent men and women questing for the truth, and tyrants always fell to the truth.

No peace. Only war.

Lorgar felt his blood run cold. Only war. Those were words to echo into eternity.

He didn’t trust the Ten Thousand Futures the way Erebus claimed to. Too many possibilities forked from every decision made by every living thing. What use was prophecy when all it offered was what might happen? Lorgar was not so devoid of imagination that he needed the warp’s twisting guesswork to show him that. Anyone with an iota of vision could imagine what might happen. Genius lay in engineering events according to one’s own goals, not in blindly heeding the laughter of mad gods.

More than that, Lorgar sought to keep one thing in mind above all else. The gods were powerful, without doubt, but they were fickle beings. Each worked against its own kin more often than not, spilling conflicting prophecies into their prophets’ minds. Perhaps they weren’t even sentient in the way a mortal mind could encompass. They seemed as much the manifestations of primal emotion as they did individual essences.

But no, there was a wide gulf between hearing them and heeding them. Gods lied, just like men. Gods deceived and clashed and sought to advance their own dominions over their rivals’. Lorgar trusted none of their prophecies.

Image ID 3-5: A series of screenshots from Betrayer. Angron comes into the scene. It reads:

Angron entered the basilica, armoured in his usual stylised bronze and ceramite and with two oversized chainswords strapped to his back. He even wasted time with a greeting, raising his hand in the first time Lorgar could ever remember such a gesture from his broken brother. The Word Bearer tried not to let his amazement show at his brother’s new consideration.

‘Lotara says you stole her astropathic choir.’ Angron’s lipless smile was a ghastly thing indeed. ‘I see that she may have been correct.’

‘Stole is a strong word. “Appropriated” seems much less ignoble.’ Lorgar spared a glance for the skies above the cathedral, as the Lex ripped onwards towards Nuceria.

‘What do you need them for?’ Angron asked. His wounds from being buried alive had already faded to scrunched scar tissue pebbling his flesh, just another host of scarring to overlay the last.

The Devourers lurked behind him, stomping into the cathedral without the primarch sparing them a glance. To be one of Angron’s bodyguards was no honour, despite how fiercely the World Eaters’ champions had fought for it in the first, optimistic years. Angron ignored them no matter where they went, never once fighting alongside them in battle. In their Terminator plate, they’d never managed to keep up with their liege lord, and they were as prone to losing control as any other World Eater, meaning any hope of them fighting as an organised pack was a forlorn one at best.

Lorgar watched the Devourers – those warriors who’d spent a century learning to swallow their pride and pretend they weren’t ignored – speaking amongst themselves at the basilica’s entrance.

‘Hail,’ he greeted them. They seemed uneasy at being addressed, offering hesitant and wordless bows.

Angron snorted at his brother acknowledging them. ‘Bodyguards,’ he said. ‘Even their name annoys me. “Devourers”, as if I’d named them myself – as if they were the Legion’s finest.’

‘Their intentions are pure,’ Lorgar pointed out. ‘They seek to honour you. It’s not their fault you leave them behind in every battle.’

‘They’re not even the Legion’s fiercest fighters, any more. That rogue Delvarus refuses to challenge for a place in their ranks. Khârn laughed when I asked him if he’d ever considered it. And do you know Bloodspitter?’

‘I know Bloodspitter,’ Lorgar replied. Everyone knew Bloodspitter.

‘He beat one of them in the pits, and carved his name into the poor bastard’s armour with a combat knife.’

Lorgar forced a smile. ‘Yes. Delightful.’

Angron’s face wrenched again, at the mercy of misfiring muscles. ‘What primarch ever needed guarding by lesser men?’

‘Ferrus,’ Lorgar said softly. ‘Vulkan.’

Angron laughed, the sound rich and true, yet harsh as a bitter wind. ‘It’s good to hear you joke about those weaklings. I was getting bored of you mourning them.’

It was no joke, but Lorgar had no desire to shatter his brother’s fragile good humour. ‘I only mourn the dead,’ Lorgar conceded. ‘I don’t mourn Vulkan.’

‘He’s as good as dead.’ The World Eater smiled again. ‘I’m sure he wishes he were. Now, what are you doing with Lotara’s choir?’

‘Listening to them sing of other worlds and other wars.’

Angron stared, unimpressed. ‘Specifics,’ he said, ‘while I have the patience to hear such details.’

‘Just listen,’ Lorgar replied.

Angron did as he was bid. After a minute or more had passed, he nodded once. ‘You’re listening to the Five Hundred Worlds burning.’

‘Something like that. These are the voices of the freshly dead, and those soon to join them. The mortis-moments of random souls, elsewhere in Ultramar, as our fleets ravage their worlds.’

‘Morbid, priest. Even for you.’

‘We’re inflicting this destruction on them. We mustn’t consider ourselves distant from it. It may not be our hands holding the bolters and blades, but we are still the architects of this annihilation. It’s our place to listen to it, to remember the martyred dead, and to meditate on all we’ve wrought.’

‘I wish you well with it,’ said Angron. ‘But why steal Lotara’s choir? What happened to yours?’

‘They died.’

It was Angron’s turn to be surprised. ‘How did they die?’

‘Screaming.’ Lorgar showed no emotion at all. ‘What brings you here, brother?’

Image ID 6 & 7: Two screenshots from later in the previous scene, when Angron asks 'Why Nuceria?'. It reads:

‘The metaphysics are complicated,’ said Lorgar.

That had Angron growling. ‘I may not have wasted days in debate with you and Magnus inside our father’s Palace, but the Nails haven’t left me an absolute fool. I asked the question, Lorgar. You answer it. And do so without lying, if you can manage such a feat.’

The Word Bearer met his brother’s eyes, and the rarely-seen palette of emotions within their depths. Pain was there in abundance, but so was the frustration of living with a misfiring mind, and the savagery that transcended anger itself. Angron was a creature that had come to make his hatred a blade to be used in battle. He’d weaponised his own emotions, where most living beings were slaves to theirs. Lorgar couldn’t help but admire the strength in that.

‘We’re going to Nuceria,’ he said, ‘because of you. Because of the Nails.’

Angron stared, and his silence beckoned for his brother to continue.

‘They’re killing you,’ Lorgar admitted. ‘Faster than I thought. Faster than anyone realised. The rate of degeneration has accelerated even in the last few months. Your implants were never designed for a primarch’s brain matter. Your physiology is trying to heal the damage as the Nails bite deeper, but it’s a game of pushing and pulling, with both sides evenly matched.’

Angron took this with an impassive shrug. ‘Guesswork.’

‘I can see souls and hear the music of creation,’ Lorgar smiled. ‘In comparison, this is nothing. The Twelfth Legion’s archives are comprehensive enough, you know. Your behaviour tells the rest of the tale, along with the pain I sense radiating from you each and every time we meet. Your entire brain is remapped and rewired, slaved to the implants’ impulses. Tell me, when was the last time you dreamed?’

‘I don’t dream.’ The answer was immediate, almost fiercely fast. ‘I’ve never dreamed.’

Lorgar’s gentle eyes caught the warp’s kaleidoscopic light as he tilted his head. ‘Now you’re lying, brother.’

‘It’s no lie.’ Angron’s thick fingers twitched and curled, closing around the ghosts of weapons. ‘The Nails scarcely let me sleep. How would I dream?’

Lorgar didn’t miss the rising tension in his brother’s body language – the veins in his temples rising from scarred skin, the feral hunch of the shoulders, no different from a hunting cat drawing into a crouch before it struck.

‘You once told me the Nails stole your slumber,’ Lorgar conceded, ‘but you also said they let you dream.’

Angron took a step closer. He started to say ‘I meant…’ but Lorgar’s earthy glare stopped him cold.

‘They give you a serenity and peace you can find nowhere else. Humans, legionaries, primarchs… everything alive must sleep, must rest, must allow its brain a period of respite. The remapping of your mind denies you this. You don’t dream with your eyes closed. You dream with your eyes open, chasing the rush of whatever peace the Nails can give you.’ Lorgar met Angron’s eyes again. ‘Don’t insult us both by denying it. You slaver and murmur when you kill, mumbling about chasing serenity and how close it feels. I’ve heard you. I’ve looked into your heart and soul when you’re lost to the Nails. Your sons, with their crude copies of your implants, have their minds rewritten to feel joy only in adrenaline’s kiss. Those lesser implants cause pain because they scrape the nerves raw, thus your World Eaters kill because it gladdens their reforged hearts, and ceases the pain knifing into their muscles. Your Butcher’s Nails are a more sinister and predatory design, ruining all cognition, stealing any peace. They are killing you, gladiator. And you ask why I’m taking you back to Nuceria? Is it not obvious?’

End Image ID.]

[relanah-qahs]

MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY

Whumptober 2020 No.3 

Title: The Only One Who Matters

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Prompt: Manhandled | Forced to their knees | Held at gunpoint

Rating: M for swearing and violence, Relationship: Elena & Gun (Emma) Words: 1709

Tags: Sibling rivalry, held at gunpoint, young Elena, near death experience, introspection, Elena hates the Turks, character backstory, hurt no comfort

AO3 Link.  FFNet Link

Summary: It was at the very moment Elena knew her life’s path had changed. If joining the Turks meant stripping away one’s humanity and empathy, then she wanted absolutely no part of it.

εγλ 0002 September 24. 21:47. Midgar Sector 6 Slums.

Elena was too shaken to do anything other than stare wide-eyed through the barrel of the gun pointed at her face. Her mind was completely blank and time seemed to stand completely still. Her fingers twitched, but she couldn’t bring her arms up to a defensive position. She simply stood there, her arms at her side, mouth wide open, breath vacuumed out of her.

Why couldn’t she move? Why was she freaking out now? She was at the top of her class at Shinra Military Academy, she had been studying marksmanship and other fighting disciplines since she was a kid. So why did her body fail her now?

“Gimme your purse or I will blast off that pretty face of yours!” The gunman’s gruff voice echoed in Elena’s ears.

She felt herself take in a shaky breath and choked out a sob. “Please, please don’t!” It was her own voice, but Elena had no control over the words coming from her. “I’ll do what you want, just please don’t hurt me!”

“Purse, now!”

Elena quickly, and without thinking, slid her pink handbag off from her shoulder and held it in front of her. The gunman snatched it from her but kept the gun pointed menacingly at her face. He was a very rough-looking guy; he was thin and appeared skeleton-like in his huge overcoat, his scraggly beard was matted with grime, and he was missing some teeth. The criminal reeked of mako--probably a junkie desperate to buy his next fix.

Elena sobbed while her attacker flipped through the contents of her handbag: Her dorm keys, her headphones, a pack of tissues, then finally the grand prize--her sparkly pink wallet. She would lose all her tips she got from her part-time job at the bar tonight, probably her train pass and student ID too. If only she could have brought her gun. She specialized in marksmanship, but she wasn’t allowed to take her weapon outside the shooting range since she was underage. But even if she did have her gun with her, would she even have the strength to shoot a real, living human?

“Okay, you got you what you wanted,” she said in a shaky voice. “Now will you please let me go?”

“Shut up!” The gunman dropped the purse and grabbed her hair. She yelped from pain and fear as her blonde hair was forcefully pulled at her scalp. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do.” He forced her down, her knees hitting the ground with a painful thud.

Elena was crying hysterically now. She had never felt so helpless. Why? That was the only word that echoed through her mind. Why? Why couldn’t she fight back? Why wouldn’t her body just move? Why did all her combat training fail to reach her at such a critical moment?

She felt the gun being pressed to her temple. Was this it? Was it really going to end like this? Her life suddenly flashed before her eyes. Her childhood memories at Dad’s house with her sister Emma. Then memories of elementary school, always getting the highest grades, but Dad never being pleased because Emma always did better. Then memories of the military academy flashed before her; she was always in a fierce competition with her classmates. She had no friends, only rivals. And being the daughter of the headmaster meant she was in a constant state of pressure. She worked as hard as she could to be the top of her class, to be the best marksman in the entire school. But all of that meant nothing now. Why? Why did she train so hard only to be helpless at the end?

Why couldn’t she fight back? Why did she push herself so hard? What was it even for? Why was Dad never pleased with her? Why was it never enough? Why was it going to end like this?

Why? Gunshot.

The loud bang overloaded her senses. It was finished.

But it wasn’t her life that ended. She slowly opened her eyes and took in the gruesome sight in front of her. The man who had threatened her laid dead, his eyes wide open, the blood oozing out of his skull and slowly pooling at the ground where she knelt.

“Elena, get up.”  The voice came from her right side. Elena could barely hear it over the ringing in her ears. She turned her head to examine her savior who was now holstering her gun.

It was Emma.

Elena burst into tears and sobbed from the relief washing over her. She quickly got up from the ground, her whole body shaking.

“Oh my god, Sis! You saved me!” Elena ran towards her sister and wrapped her arms around her in the tightest embrace she could manage.

But suddenly Emma forced her back. The young woman held onto Elena’s shoulders and looked into her eyes. Elena couldn’t tell what emotion Emma was expressing, but it wasn’t relief.

“Elena, you’re pathetic.”

Her cold words hit Elena like a punch to the gut. She stared at her sister completely dumbfounded.

“What? Sis, what are you-?”

“You could have taken on that guy, so why didn’t you? Why didn’t you fight him?”

Elena couldn’t find the words to respond. She lowered her gaze to the ground and felt the agonizing warmth of shame rush onto her face.

“You’re only a year away from graduating from military school. You train in combat every day, self-defense should be second nature to you! What was all that studying for, Elena? You show off in the gym only to choke the second you’re in actual danger? Get a fucking grip, Sis. When you’re out in the field, your life will always be on the line. You have to be stronger. You can’t break down and cry just because you’re scared. You will never make it into the Turks if you can’t get your shit together.”

Elena couldn’t help the tears from falling and the noisy sobs escaping her throat. “I’m sorry, Sis! I’m so sorry.”

Emma sighed. “Don’t be sorry. Do better.”

Emma called the Shinra Security officers and explained the situation. She ordered them to remove the body and to not question Elena. Being a Turk meant she had the authority to tell them what to do, and they obeyed without question. Elena couldn’t help but feel glad she didn’t need to talk to the Security officers; she couldn’t relive this again and expose her cowardice. She just hoped this incident wouldn’t reach her school administrators and, most importantly, her father.

What would he say? Would he be disappointed in her?

Emma insisted on escorting Elena back to campus. They didn’t speak to each other the entire train ride back onto the Plate. Elena focused only on controlling her emotions as she didn’t want anyone to see her cry again tonight.

They arrived at the school’s gates. Elena fumbled through her purse for her wallet to present her school ID. She might get in trouble for missing curfew.

“Get some rest, Sis,” said Emma. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

Elena clutched her ID tightly and shot a pleading look towards her sister. “Emma, please, please don’t tell Dad!” She felt another sob rise from her chest at the thought of letting him down in such a terrible way.

Emma shook her head. “He’s going to find out eventually. It’s better if he hears from me instead of the Security officers.”

“I can’t let him down! You said it yourself, didn’t you? I couldn’t defend myself when it really mattered! I’m a total failure. He’ll be so mad at me.”

“That’s not true!” Emma placed a gentle hand on Elena’s shoulder. “He’s not going to mad at you. He’s always worried about you! Just trust me, okay?”

“Whatever,” said Elena. She brushed off her sister’s hand. “You wouldn’t understand anyway. I’m going to bed.”

Elena turned and walked towards the gate, holding her ID to show to the school security guards. She stopped. “Sis,”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving me.”

Elena took a long, hot shower as soon as she arrived back at her dorm. She was desperate to get rid of all of the filth and remaining stench of death and gunpowder from her skin. She cried more. It was amazing she had any tears left. She breathed in the steam to try to soothe her aching nose and throat. By the time she dried off it was way past midnight. She quietly opened the door to her dorm to not awaken her roommates. She slid into her bed and hugged her teddy bear tightly to her chest. She could feel another sob rising from her. Her head ached terribly, her face red from the burning salt of her tears. She couldn’t allow a sound to escape her, she couldn’t show weakness to her roommates--her rivals.

You will never make it into the Turks if you don’t get your shit together. Emma’s words echoed through her mind.

Fuck the Turks. And fuck Emma.

If joining the Turks meant stripping away one’s humanity and empathy, then she wanted absolutely no part of it. Her ultimate goal ever since her first year of military school was to one day be one of the Turks, Shinra’s elite mercenary force. The agents who answered only to the President himself. Dad was so proud when Emma was hired, and he expected nothing less of Elena.

But now? Now after actually seeing them in action? No way. After facing death so closely, all she wanted was the comfort and kindness of her sister. But instead she was yelled at to do better. The Turks must beat the kindness out of their recruits.

It was at that very moment, Elena knew her life’s path had changed. No more pursuing the Turks. She would find her own way. Maybe she would quit marksmanship class too and switch her specialty to martial arts. Martial arts would teach her to be strong and she would never be helpless again.

No matter where life took her, Elena would be strong. And kind. That was her promise to the only person who mattered--herself.

[zukkatrash]

im pretty sure nobody wants this content but:

aged up, no bending atla x fallout 4 crossover!!!

(spoilers for some atla and fo4 stuff obviously, and in sukis part i rant abt the ending where ur against the brotherhood, so major spoilers for that too)

lets start with katara

katara is a minuteman, no lets be real shes the goddamn general, preston took one look at her and immediately knew she'd protect the people of the commonwealth with all she had

elder maxon is actually scared of her, which is why he refuses to let her on the prydwen so none of his underlings see him fold under her stare

shes probably the first minuteman that hancock like actually truly respects bc he knows shes 100% abt the ppl and goodneighbors motto is literally "of the people for the people"

katara is a probably a bit conflicted about him at first bc u know hes a bit ruthless for her taste, but she can see his heart's in the right place

she definitely helped marcy long with her grief and turned her anger into smth productive, aka marcy is now probably a high ranking minuteman

sokka

def a railroad agent (i read alchemy, sue me)

him and tinker tom are the best buddies and yes sokka got convinced to drink his weird serum thing, stop bringing it up!!

god just the crazy inventions those two would cook up, they'd probs scare the shit out of the institute

on topic of the institute, theres probably like at least one abduction attempt from them a month but hes not only smart but a badass too

hes also one of the only people dr. amari is actually nice to and will routinely rescue him from irmas relentless flirting

he definitely fanboys with kent collony over the shroud

i feel like deacon would drive him mad, because on one hand he gets the secrecy and that he doesn't want anyone to get too close but also deacs, my man u cant shut everyone out with ur lies

okay now im thinking abt them bonding over their dead gfs and am sad

when he meets nick he has to hold back soooo hard to not ask invasive questions, bc nick is basically a walking insight into the institute, but hes alao a person who sokka respects and really doesn't wanna be an ass to

toph

also with the railroad(but shes a heavy ofc), probably mostly bc shed get more action there

sokka and tinker tom def made her some really cool gadget à la seismic sense so shes still a BEAST

she can also hear a raider ambush/lurking wildlife before anyone else and if shes not with anyone who needs to avoid that kinda stuff she pulls out her trusty missile launcher and makes quick work of her enemies

probably participates in cage matches at the combat zone and raiders shit their pants when they see her

toph is either dating glory or cait or both, cant decide, just badass wlw

or maybe fahrenheit 🤔, i mean the only refrence of tophs type we have is that she mightve had a crush on sokka who is not only strong but smart and u cant tell me fahr isnt smart, she might only have like 5 lines but at least one of them is abt chess which is a common shorthand for intelligence and she is undoubtedly a badass so yes toph and fahr! never thought id think of those two as a ship but here we are haha

zuko

is the silver shroud, you can't change my mind he's a righteous theatre kid ofc he's the shroud

suki

also a minute man, probably kataras second in command

shes the one training the minutemen at the castle

danse tried so desperately to recruit her but suki is too smart to fall for the bos' bullshit

probably plays into his whole spiel tho to get an inside look at the bos and takes them down from the inside

and not by blowing the ship up wtf there are kids on the prydwen what the fuck why cant u get them out beforehand??? why is that the only option to get the bos out of the commonwealth???? they steal poor farmers crops ffs i want them gone! WITHOUT killing innocent children that are being indoctrinated what the fuck

aang

im actually having a really hard time to imagine aang in fo4 bc u know its a biiit violent for a pacifist monk but i really dont wanna just make him a farmer or some boring shit, its just that stuff usually needs killing in some way in fo4

okay nvm i can def picture him on the island mediating that whole conflict between arcadia, the children of the atom and far harbor

oh god aang finding out how dima kept the 'peace' would be a brutal fucking scene, i dont wanna spoil too much if possible but aang would def feel really betrayed by dima

i can see aang arriving at the island and really trying to make everyone understand that dima only wants arcadia to be safe and left alone and i have no idea how he would actually deal with dima once the truth comes out but fuuck, bending or not aang def entered the avatar state there

but just to be clear he still protects arcadia, just bc its built by smn who thinks the ends justify the means doesnt mean that synths dont deserve to live in fucking peace for once

also aang would absolutely adore erikson and his puppies ^^

but back to the commonwealth

aang would for sureee advocate against the mind wipes the railroad makes and try to find other ways to help synths

he probs cannot deal with desdemonia saying that erasing the synths memory and identity is the only way to keep them safe, aang knows what loss means and he wont stand for it

and i can see him do a lot of the actual building in the settlements and helping all those small communities to flourish

now for the crack, as in i dont think this is in character but i thought of it so now yall have to read abt it:

the fire nation is in nuka world, also there is no overboss per se bc except for like 3 lines we know nothing of colter

ozai leads the operators, but also kinda everyone, so basically the overboss

post breakdown, pre redemption azula leads the disciples

zhao leads the pack bc like mason hes an animal and i hate him ^^

gage is dead bc unfortunately ozai isnt dumb, altho ozai was dumb enough to underestimate zuko when he literally told him his plan to join the gaang, but then again gage didnt like colter bc he didnt get shit done and unfortunately ozai does get shit done so gage is probably delighted :(

if anyone actually read this and wants to add on pleaseee do!!!

[saveyourheartforme]

The Entire Folklore Storyline Pieced Together

so I’ve given it some thought and I think this is how the Folklore story comes together.

Disclaimers: obviously this is my interpretation I could be 100% wrong and am open to suggestions

also some fragments of this have come from twitter/instagram/other tumblr posts ive read over the past few days but I put the pieces together on my own (if this has been said already by someone else im so sorry and full credit to you but i havent read a full theory anywhere else yet <3)

our story starts with seven: betty is young and completely naive. the summer she is seven years old she meets Inez, who has an abusive father, hence the part 

“And I've been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why And I think you should come live with me And we can be pirates Then you won't have to cry”

they become incredibly close that summer because inez spends a ton of time at betty’s house to escape her father. they cease to be friends at some point after the end of this song due to the fact that they developed feelings for each other but were too scared to be public with a relationship (”hide in the closet” line). betty starts to date james in high school. 

cardigan: we pretty much already know that this is betty’s POV of the love triangle situation and the heartbreak she feels about the breakup and being cheated on. however i have a theory that betty was in love with inez and james was there to fill that void she felt after losing her friendship with inez and hence the hope that it would become more. hear me out. references to “heels” and “black lipstick” which are associated more with girls. “playing hide of seek” seems childlike, which is a reference to the time betty and inez spent together in “seven”. finally, “when you are young they assume you know nothing” could reference the fact that adults often tell kids they’re too young to know their sexuality. the song is also about james though, the song in its entirety symbolizes how the people betty thinks she can trust the most and who love her the most (james, inez) both betray her. hence the mingled references to both james and inez

august: the POV of Inez. she develops stronger feelings for james than she intended. however she also has feelings for betty but never told her. the song is a double reference to the summers she would spend with betty when she was young and they were exploring their sexualities with one another and her being with james. i think that maybe she only got with james at first because she wanted to ruin his relationship with betty out of jealousy but fell for james accidentally in the process

betty: the POV of james, who has no idea about the history between inez and betty. the reason why betty doesn’t “believe a word [Inez] says” is because they have fractured trust after the end of their friendship. however inez feels guilty about betraying betty and tells her about her and james. james is trying to win her forgiveness in this song by showing up at a party betty is having at her house. betty tentatively forgives james but does not get back together with him and permanently terminates her friendship with inez. james is heartbroken that betty wont get back with him.

this is me trying: james continues to try and win betty over again. he starts drinking to make himself feel better and begins to do badly in school (”i got wasted like all my potential”). however he really puts in effort to get betty back

mirrorball: inez reflects on her life. living with her abusive father made her desperate to be loved/cared for. so she “change[s] everything about [her] to fit in” just so she can get that affection. essentially she becomes who she thinks people want her to be to get the love she never got from her father. betty and james were both people who she felt like she could be herself around (”you are not like the regulars”). at the end when she talks about performing to keep them looking at her it is about how she desperately wanted to keep them both. unfortunately she lost both of them

between songs betty decides to get back with james and they get married. they genuinely love each other. inez moves to st louis.

invisible string: the honeymoon phase of james and bettys relationship after marriage. they think they are meant to be together and everything that happened was meant to happen. also addresses how james and betty met when they were young (betty would read at the park and james worked across the street from the park in a yogurt shop and they would run into one another)

peace: their relationship hits a rough patch. their “coming of age has come and gone”. the honeymoon period is over. james says he “never had strength in his convictions as long as dangers near” meaning he has a hard time staying faithful. he does love her but makes a lot of mistakes (including talking shit with his friends about her) basically this song is a warning but solidifies that he loves her regardless of what happens

illicit affairs: james cheats again. also could be inez reflecting on her affair with james from a more mature lens now that shes older. she feels a lot of regret about it 

mad woman: betty finds out about james cheating a second time and is obviously pissed. james tries to spin it so she forgives him but she’s done. 

exile: same time as mad woman: talks about how they both feel loss at the end of their relationship

james marries the woman he cheated on betty with but he still loves betty and the marriage is short lived

hoax: betty is completely heartbroken over everything that has happened to her. she feels really alone and still wants to cling to the love james felt for her. she looks for signs and reasons to go back to him but finds none.

james joins the military after his second divorce with the woman he cheated with. betty moves to st louis (yes the city inez lives in)

the 1: betty heals from her past and becomes confident in herself again. the line “i thought i saw you at the bus stop i didn’t though is her seeing inez but thinking its impossible. she reflects on her past feelings for both james and inez. eventually her and inez run into each other and rekindle their friendship. they discuss their past together (” it wouldve been fun if you wouldve been the one”) they are happy being friends. they are each others “chosen family”

epiphany: james dies in battle while in the army, but thinks of betty for the rest of his life and regrets what happened

my tears ricochet: betty finds out about james’ death in combat and is completely heartbroken even though she thought she was over him (”if im dead to you why are you at the wake cursing my name wishing id stayed” = betty mourning him despite saying she didnt care anymore and wishing theyd stayed together). betty feels haunted by james now and regrets a lot that happened

the last great american dynasty: after this event betty needs a change. she begins to go by her full name (rebekah) and moves to rhode island. she meets the heir to standard oil and marries him. the marriage is loveless but they have fun together. he dies leaving her with a lot of money and holiday house. she is done living for other people and starts to do literally whatever tf she wants. one of the “bitch pack friends from the city” she brings in is inez. they were never romantic after their youth but their friendship is just as amazing and fulfilling. 

feel free to leave comments saying what you agree/disagree with or to add stuff. i might just be crazy and reading into this wayyyyy to much tbh. regardless the album is incredible and im so grateful for it :)

[bonesingerofyme-loc]

Shattered Legions I

Examining in narrative form the characters that make up my Shattered Legions killteam.

Personae Raven Guard Captain Leucas Kypto, XIX  Brother Ides Conom, XIX  Brother Macito Orn, XIX Iron Hands Brother Mordecai Castron, X Sons of Horus Luna Wolves Brother Aviko Barradon, XVI World Eaters Sergeant Khord, XII Death Guard Brother Varecht Poole, XIV Thousand Sons Codicier Noltak Vaal, Raptora, XV

 ‘I am Alpharius.’ Across the arming room, Aviko glances up at him while Leucas and Khord continue stripping down their bolters. All were present, save Vaal, some stripped to bodysuits, others in partially dismantled battle plate. His words only seem to register with Ides, who slowly rises to his feet, putting aside his jump-pack. Before the Raven Guard can speak, Macito goes on:

‘That’s what they always say. The Alpha Legion, I mean. Has anyone else fought alongside them?’

‘I had more than enough experience on Isstvan,’ Ides spat, voice rough, an octave higher and coarse from a slash across his neck, courtesy of an Emperor’s Child. Macito nods and can’t push aside the clench of guilt around his two hearts.

‘We all did. I meant before.’ Ides returns to his seat, but doesn’t break the acid glare he’s sending.

‘There is no before. There’s Isstvan, and there’s now.’ Leucas sighs.

‘Ides. Brother. Center yourself. Brother Macito, get to the point.’ It’s a name that by now feels almost more natural than the one he was born with, the one that slides a little farther away every day.

‘I’m saying they had strength of purpose. The Alpha Legion. I was thinking about the Legions that – the ones that betrayed us. Some of them…don’t feel surprising. Word Bearers. Night Lords. Even the Iron Warriors, I can consider and find reason.’

Sul’in’s voice rumbles through the arming chamber from his corner, deep in the shadow. Macito can only make out the shadowed shape of the marine, hulking and huge as he works on a long, serrated blade. The Salamander’s eyes burn in the darkness and he claims bright light irritates his rad-burns.

‘Curze’s bastard sons never sat right with me. None of the honesty of the World Eaters-‘ Khord grunts at this, but makes no other move as he slots diamantite teeth into a chainaxe. ‘and all the brutality of the Wolves. At least the Wolves have a purpose. Those bastards in midnight…all they lived for was torture. It was unclean.’

‘That is my point, that exactly, Ashrock. There’s a flaw, or some…some truth to the Legions that turned that reveals the treachery. The Night Lords were criminals, all of them. Rapists and murderers given the geneseed. The Word Bearers might’ve once worshipped the Emperor, but who knows what other fanes they found to bow to. Perturabo was always unhappy, always hating Dorn. Horus could offer the Iron Warriors nothing more than the chance to kill the Fists and it would be enough.’ Macito shakes his head, putting his bolter carefully aside, resting it on hooks and placing his gauntleted hands on his knees.

‘The Alpha Legion, that is more curious to me.’

‘What’s curious? What’s possibly curious? They’re traitors, Macito. Traitors. We don’t need to understand them; we don’t need to figure them out. We only need to kill them.’ It would always be Ides, he had considered once, always Ides that would be the one. There is so much hatred that burns in that son of Corax, a nucleonic nugget in his chest that will never, ever cool. At Praxitilum V, when they had struck the outpost of the III Legion for resupply, his bloody rampage had rivaled Khord’s. Ides had no nails to blame.

Barradon shrugs, pauldrons hissing as they match his gesture. Underneath the applications of white paint, splashed and slathered across the surfaces, here and there can be seen tiny streaks and patches of oceanic green, peeking through gouges and scrapes. In contrast to the liberal and careless application of ivory coating sits a meticulous and pristine wolf’s head set against a crescent moon in deep black. It had been an obsession of the Astartes’ to find something, anything to blot away his old colors. The paint slathered across his armor is usually meant for decking and bulkheads, appropriated without care. The reborn Luna Wolf had gouged out the crimson, slitted Eye jewels with his combat knife, defacing them and throwing them into waste chutes. The settings still yawn at his belt and chest, hollow like sockets absent teeth.

‘There’s a worth in knowing why. If only to remember where the line is.’ Ides snorted, and didn’t deign to respond. There was a constant tension between him and the three of their little group, the three whose Legions had fallen into treachery. Aviko Barradon, Khord and Varecht Poole, who had never been to Istvaan, who had heard of their Legion’s damnation and turned aside. Each dealt with it in a different way.

Barradon had regressed, repainting his armor, acting sometimes as if the years as a Son of Horus had never occurred. As if the Legion that marched with the damned Warmaster was something different. Something he had never been a part of.

Khord, ever a simple and straightforward World Eater, simply walked away. He still sported the bone-white and sky-blue of his Legion, still the beaten brass devoured world adorned his pauldron. It wasn’t his fault his lunatic father had led his Legion into insanity. Why should he apologize?

Varecht Poole hoped. He had hoped that his father, Mortarion, had made a mistake. An error. A miscalculation. That there could be redemption, for his Primarch and his Legion. That maybe, maybe, his father could be made to see the truth of things, the right of things. Then he had learned of Istvaan V, of Primarchs butchered in the sands. Now Poole was empty, a hollowed out core of a man, more mechanical than the augmented Iron Hands.

And Ides Conom could forgive none of them, nor ever forget their origins. Even if none of the three had been at Istvaan, even if lightyears had separated them from the perfidy committed in the hell of Urgall, Ides would never see them as anything but traitors. Useful, convenient traitors, but still, at their deepest core: tainted.

‘So I try to understand Alpha Legion. The others, I can find a way. Alpha Legion? ‘I am Alpharius’, they always say. When I served alongside them, I only knew a handful of names. They are their Primarch, they say. They are all one. One person, one mind, one purpose. Hydra.’

Leucas gives a slow nod, putting aside his lapping powder and resting his detached pauldron at his feet, still shining with polish. The bold, heraldic Raven was scratched and marred by las-blasts and the teeth of chainswords but never would its luster fade.

Leucas Kypto, son of the Raven, Captain of the Forty-Ninth, the only reason any of them were alive. Leucas who had pulled Sul’in from the glassy soil of a nuclear crater, hauling the enormous Salamander free of the razor-edged debris. Leucas who had gutted Word Bearers and Night Lords alike, slaughtering through the madness of Urgall toward the scattered landers that remained. Leucas who had beaten sense into Ides, with shouted words and then fists, knocking his brother from rage into sensibility. Leucas who had hauled Mordecai, bodily, from the field as the Iron Hand raged, frothing for the heads of the bastards, the bastards who killed his father.

Leucas, who had gone back. Leucas, who, with a battered Thunderhawk ready to launch, with injured and dying brothers on board, with the galaxy guttering into insensibility and horror around him, had turned his back and dove into the crush once more. Because he saw another brother, saw another Raven with its wings clipped, struggling to safety. Leucas who had gripped his hand and pauldron, who had pressed his helm to Macito’s and shouted to be heard over the din of dying dreams. To come with him. To stand. To fight on. To live.

Leucas had ‘saved’ him.

Leucas who had kept their slowly growing, dysfunctional band together and alive through the months after the Massacre.

Leucas who had stood between Ides and Khord, bodily interposing between a man with nothing to lose and a man lost to the Nails and talked both down.

‘I can follow your meaning,’ Leucas says, crossing arms across his broad plastron. ‘The Alpha Legion strives to all be singular. If the order came from their Primarch, who would question it?’ The marine shakes his head, sighing long and deep. ‘This is the seeds from which all of this was sown. Secrecy. Blind obedience. Wheels within wheels and intrigue where there should only have been warriors.’

‘The rot of the Lodges,’ Aviko grinds out, and rare was it that he would speak at all of his Legion. Several heads nod at that. ‘The Lodges,’ spits Khord, the words like crumbling masonry. ‘We had none of that shit in the XIIth, but I saw it enough in others.’

‘The Lodges,’ whispers Poole. He holds out a hand, where a small metal disc glints. His low voice is monotone, bereft of any feeling or inflection. ‘Where all could be equal. Where anything could be said. ‘I can’t say’. ‘I can’t say.’ Would you betray your own brothers? ‘I can’t say.’’

‘How excellent, we all understand why our brothers betrayed us. Now their treachery is clear.’ Ides slams his bolter onto the rack and stands, pushing towards the door. ‘This conversation goes places I don’t care for.’

‘Ides.’ Leucas does not raise his voice, nor change his tone, but the Raven Guard stops short of the hatch.

‘Sit down.’ For a long moment, Conom remains with his hand outstretched, reaching for the release, before he slowly lowers it, and stomps back to the battered metal bench.

‘I’m sure Brother Macito had a point behind all this.’ Leucas raises an eyebrow, black like the short-cropped hair on his head.

‘I did.’ Macito sucks in a deep breath, holds it for a second, and releases it. All of it.

‘I am Alpharius.’

[tremainethelame]

ARES

Remember, this is my opinion, but id be glad to hear some human Ares headcanons!!! Thanks!

Full Name

Ares Mars Levisay

↬ Nickname ↫

Ares

↬ Age ↫

26

↬ Birthday ↫

March 23, 1991

↬ Birthplace ↫

Monticello, NYC

↬ Zodiac ↫

Aries (lol)

↬ Height ↫

6'1

↬ Gender ↫

Male

↬ Orientation ↫

VERY GAY

↬ Species ↫

Human

↬ Social Class ↫

Upper

↬ Wealth ↫

Rich

�� ╔════════════╗ ♚ A P P E A R A N C E ♚ ╚════════════╝

↬ Skin color ↫

Sand

↬ Eye color ↫

Amber

↬ Hair color ↫

Dry, dull brown

↬ Hair style ↫

Mullet at first, then straight and to his collar bones

↬ Facial hair ↫

Very thin goatee

↬ Body Type ↫

Bodybuilder

↬ Scars ↫

4 bullet wounds on arm, chest, and side of head

↬ Piercing ↫

Helix, septum, anti eyebrow

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ C L O T H I N G ♚ ╚════════════╝ ↬ Outfits ↫

White tank top, army pants and jacket, loose pack belt

↬ Accessories ↫

Skeletal hand helix, horn septum, patches on wounds

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ P E R S O N A L I T Y ♚ ╚════════════╝ ↬ Normal mood ↫

Impatient, grumpy, competitive, frustrated, witty, rough, caring

↬ Temper ↫

VERY BAD MAJOR ANGER ISSUES VIOLENT AHHHHH

↬ Discipline ↫

Very good when he respects the person, he only listens to people he thinks are right

↬ Strengths ↫

physically strong, kind and caring strong

↬ Weaknesses ↫

Dionysus or his friends and family getting hurt, people crying, FIREWORKS AHHHH, spiders

↬ Drive/dreams ↫

To make the world a better place, fight for his country, make it safe for his loved ones, win at SOMETHING GOOD, and defeat all his enemies.

↬ Fears ↫

Spiders, has thantophobia

↬ Likes ↫

Playing games and winning, the naughtys, and spending time with his family

↬ Dislikes ↫

His father, spiders, Athena, losing, family getting mad or hurt, Dionysus being grumpy, and Dionysus getting touched in a way he doesnt like at his job

↬ Soft spot ↫

ANYTHING DIONYSUS, his family getting hurt physically or emotionally, boxing

↬ Depression ↫

Dionysus unhappy, Hades or his family being offended

↬ Inspiration ↫

Frederick The Great

↬ Role model ↫

Frederick the Great, Hades, his Mom, Hephaestus

↬ Mental disorder ↫

PTSD, EHS, WED

↬ Habits ↫

Walking fast, eating fast, swears like a sailor, expects respect, power stance, jargon, sleeps ANYWHERE, punctual

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ R A T I N G S ♚ ╚════════════╝ ↬ Psychological strength ↫

**

↬ Physical strength ↫

↬ Close quarter combat ↫

↬ Distanced combat ↫

↬ Leadership ↫

↬ Wisdom ↫

**

↬ Intelligence ↫

*

↬ Confidence ↫

↬ Endurance ↫

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ R E L A T I O N S H I P S ♚ ╚════════════╝ ↬ Father ↫

Mars Levisay (???)

↬ Mother ↫

Amunet Levisay, alive, always in urgent care

↬ Brother(s) ↫

None

↬ Sister(s) ↫

None

↬ Other relatives ↫

None

↬ Enemies ↫

The whole of afghanistan, people who touched Dionysus, Zeus

↬ Rivals ↫

Athena

↬ Friends ↫

Everyone they live with and all their friends

↬ Best friend ↫

Hades or Poseidon

↬ Love interest ↫

DIONYSUS

↬ Marital status ↫

Dating Dionysus Boone

↬ Spouse ↫

None

↬ Children ↫

None

↬ Pets ↫

Cerberus, Admiral, Spot

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ P A S S - T I M E ♚ ╚════════════╝ ↬ Hobbies ↫

Dionysus, go to the club, get up to no good with friends, volenteer at barber shop

↬ Talents ↫

Doing Dionysus, boxing, NON-strategy games, training dogs, doing peoples hair

↬ Sports ↫

Football or watching baseball

↬ Classes ↫

None

↬ Occupation ↫

Drill Sergeant, Infantry Officer in the Army, volunteer in a barber shop

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ H O M E L I F E ♚ ╚════════════╝ ↬ Location ↫

Playa Del Ray, LA

↬ House size ↫

HUGEEE

↬ House type ↫

Multi family, mansion

↬ Level of luxury ↫

RICH

↬ Outdoor description ↫

Tall, wide, looks normal and friendly, but prowlers stalk through the area at night

↬ Indoor description ↫

15 bedrooms, messy, like 15 people live there

↬ Bedroom description ↫

Red and purple, neon lights, studio, sound proof, relatively clean

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ L I F E S T O R Y ♚ ╚════════════╝ ↬ Age 0-12 ↫

Father went to jail when 4, first and only road trip at 10

↬ Age 13-18 ↫

Went into the military, moved to LA, and quit school at 17

↬ Age 19-30 ↫

Current

↬ Age 31+ ↫

NA

↬ Darkest secret ↫

Once had an affair with Aphrodite. Neither enjoyed

❦ ╔════════════╗ ♚ T H E M E S O N G ♚ ╚════════════╝

7 nation army

[sleepiestdreamer]

waves!! can we request a Deimos from Madness Combat themed ID pack? or just Madness Combat themed in general, whatever works! preference for nonhuman, masc, or neutral names that are nouns / verbs (such as the name Maul instead of a 'typical' name like Alex)

Sure! I tried my best but honestly I know absolutely nothing about this character or game. I went off what I could find on the fandom wiki about the character, but there wasn't a lot so I apologise if it's not entirely accurate

Your ID pack will be posted at 13:00 (BST) today!

[gamingchannelreborn]

Game of Gods：Best Roguelike ACT Games (EN) (Android) Gameplay

Game of Gods：Best Roguelike ACT Games by DragonPlus Game Limited Gameplay ★★★★★ Graphic  ★★★★☆

📲 Android https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.dragonplus.gameofgods 📲 iOS N/A

🎮 Size 315 MB

🎮 Description Welcome to the Game of Gods🤩 ! The Game of Gods is a rogue like game with high degree of freedom. This game incorporates the traditional features of many classic works, including the fast battle🥊 rhythm, the colorful game environment, the deeply rooted details and an ups and downs storyline.

Use faith as an anchor to fight against the supernatural which are lost control and crazy gods. In the modern world, because of the loss of believers, it heading for madness and extinction. With the birth of a new god with technology as the carrier, the battle of gods is unfolding in erosion and rebirth, and the fate of the gods will be unveiled again. The boy👨 who was separated from his sister lost his heartbeat and body temperature🌡️ while accidentally gaining an immortal body. He will defeat the monsters that are blocking each other, go to the center of the city to rescue his sister, and gradually reveal the truth of the shocking changes and the secrets of the gods...

Feature: 1. Simple and refreshing action combat: * Get started quickly and reserve enough operating space to fight. * Automatic aiming helps you pack the gods. 2. The Ragnarok in the modern world🌍 : * Brand-new images and stories of ancient gods in power in the modern world. 3. Stylized American comic game world: * American comic is stylized rendering, showing a unique art style. 4. Rich genre combination and never-repeated experience course: * After being equipped with different godheads, hero characters will have different action styles. With the combination of various extraordinary abilities and seals in the game with different abilities, the richness of genre combinations will be beyond imagination🥰 . * Random levels and events, each reincarnation has a completely different story, and each departure will be a fresh start.

💌 Contact Instagram https://www.instagram.com/williamtohalim/ Twitter https://twitter.com/GachaReborn Email gamingchannelreborn@gmail.com

💌 For copyright matters & paid promotion contact Email gamingchannelreborn@gmail.com

#gamingchannelreborn #williamtohalim #gameofgods #gachareborn #gamingchannel #gacha #androidgame #iosgame #pcgame

[the-firebird69]

Also us and we have some doozies for faces you can see us in combat we get really horrified at what you do and real mad about it so it looks like something else looks like we're just these incredibly sensitive babies almost and I do it all the time but in fact I'm horrified that you're so stupid to do what you're doing I got very mad and toast you say is what you look like is not matching what you're thinking sometimes to me but I know what you're thinking cuz I am feeling so that too would not as much I think and a check and you're feeling just as much but you're not expressing it. You look at them quickly and acide usually, and decide how you want to eliminate them in class them then you look angry but with us we look aghast and shocked and we are that you had such audacity to attack something that just toasted all these others and we blast to live in hell out of you. And now you're like talking smack all the time but he said was galactus's hand is as big as almost your biggest ship it's certain meowing I said ship that shit. Anyways we can fix the ships not that I said that but I'm starting to laugh Thor says because he's pretty smart he's sharp and he likes playing on words and she's talking to him and he's kind of interrupted so she's going to nudge in now then I interrupted looking let's see if I can bend bars okay you too so there was talking about our looks in combat and they change the subject probably because we're ladies and he probably had it he had it right there he's doing the right thing and then we fell. Tons of times Trump is interrupting now I was told we're building these You're building those these are ours those are yours these aren't yours these are ours it's not making these dumb comments like it's your genre if you are building these they be yours so trp statts of laughing right now. Says this you have no intention of letting us keep our particular Stone chips because sometimes we battle and they say no we don't we still don't and he's a liar saying that he's going to take them over and all that good stuff and he's probably just going to sit around steaming at us and making noises a Mac says mac daddy that makes sense.

Yeah I think I just let out epitaph today and string some squares together for 10 minutes at least every day from this point forward and will add in probably 10 minutes of catatonic hatred then what you're whistle make you feel better for a few weeks make you feel better if you like to pack yourself in the back you like to have me say certain things and try and make you say it whether or not it's going on or not I understand that you're id and ego are practically not existent for some reason probably because you don't have any thorium Zues says back.

Thor Freya

So you like the stone ships go for the mysterious metal that you say someone is half and have tested and you say your cruise are going to take over your stone chips for you and you'll be my men has Trump and Dan and corky and stuff okay we have a disagreement we think we can take him in a fight I think that you got cut in half and you're sitting at McDonald's and you inspired them too much and you're inspiring me too much and you've got a big mouth because that's what it does do you understand what I'm saying at all. I got to tell you I got to stop inspiring him and he's right it takes a lot of effort to shut them down and we got to round up so much it's going to be terrible it's going to be in our face and worse now it's a mistake and I pointed out through him a lot and now I'm going to have to just try and lead because we may have effed up everything Mac daddy says

Zues Hera

[boymeetsweevil]

a hectic halloween

Grouping: Reader & Taehyung, besties

Word Count: ~1400, why can’t i write anything a different length lol pg-13 for language only, will go back and edit later so beware of typos...

Summary: Tae invites you to a Playboy™️ themed halloween party and a wardrobe malfuction of sorts occurs.

A bead of sweat rolls down your temple and you swipe at it with haste. It feels like you’ve been running on this treadmill forever. You pick your phone up off the monitor to look at how long you’ve been running. 

00:05:23.

You wonder how the hell its only been five minutes before hopping off the machine and going to the weights section. You can hear Taehyung’s voice in the back of your head nagging you to learn to run so you can build up endurance and have a healthy heart. Screw that. 

20 minutes later, your arms feel like jelly and you’re about to get on the ground to do some crunches when your phone chimes with a text from Taehyung. 

You put down your phone and sigh at the last minute costume party you’ve been dragged to. Its tempting to pitch a fit at the thought of having to go to Beta Tau Sigma, a frat notorious for wild parties and unbelievably eclectic brothers. A frown creases your face when you think about all the shaving you’ll have to do for this costume and the salt you’ll have to strategically cut from your diet for a few days so you won’t be bloated when you go to the party. But part of you is excited to finally get a chance to wear something exciting and sexy and fun. It would be a refreshing break from your usual uniform of sweatpants paired with an overly large t-shirt from middle school and a hoodie stolen from Taehyung.

For a second, you worry about whether going to a party that has such an objectifying theme would make you a bad person. The fact that Taehyung had assumed you would be the playboy bunny to his Hugh Hefner irks you a bit. But you decide to just corner him before the party and give him a thorough lesson on feminist party practices while he’s still sober enough to listen. With that in mind, you begrudgingly sit up and assume the position for wall sits. There’s no way in hell you’re not doing everything in your power to make sure your ass looks amazing in the body suit you know you’re going to buy when you get home.

The night of the party comes faster than you would like. Thanks to your friend Jenni, you’re able to come up with the perfect dark smokey look to go with your black bunny costume. The inky latex suit fits you like a glove and is “cheeky” enough show off all your hard work. Even though you hate going to the gym, once you’re there, you really do dedicate yourself to your fitness.

It takes 15 minutes for you to find a way to place the bunny ears you had to buy yourself (because Taehyung never gave you the ones he said he bought for you) on your head in a way that won’t mess up your hair. When you finally, do, you attach your tail, put on the accompanying collar and cuffs you picked out for the occasion and grab your essentials.

The party seems to be in full swing when you arrive. You make sure to brandish your ID at the door so Jungkook has excuses to bite your anything. Especially not with the plastic vampire fangs he’s wearing.

You check your phone again to confirm that Taehyung is waiting for you in the kitchen once you’ve hung your coat up. There are a ton of other playboy bunnies in the room in addition to you, but the feeling of people checking out your costume isn’t lost on you as you make your way through the crowd of people to find your friend. Thankfully, no one does more than stare. One of the few redeeming factors of the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity is that they don’t take kindly to creeps. Anyone can very comfortably go up to one of the brothers and voice their concerns about wandering hands, overly drunk party guests, or suspicious activity and the boys will band together to remedy the situation.

When you get to the kitchen, you see one or two Hugh Hefners, but none of them are Tae. You’re about to get your phone out of the matching fanny pack you’re wearing to ask him where he went when you see him nursing a red cup by the fridge. His eyes grow wide when you step into his line of vision. You can feel your jaw fall open as you take in his costume.

White, pearlescent combat boots cover his feet. His bottom half is clothed in white garter hose that travel up his legs and come to rest at the lacy cuff strapped hugging his thigh. The garter straps reach up and attach to pale pink bikini-cut panties that you may or may not own in black. On his top half he sports a very cropped white denim vest that does nothing to hide his bare torso underneath. A little playboy bunny button is pinned on the breast pocket. As the pièce de résistance, he wears white satin bunny ears over perfectly coifed hair. 

“What the hell are you wearing,” Taehyung shouts, leaving his cup forgotten on the counter and stomping over to size you up with disdain.

“I’m wearing what you told me I had to wear. What the hell are you wearing?”

“I didn’t tell you to wear that. Why would I tell you to steal my costume? You didn’t even do the idea justice,” he murmurs under his breath. 

“Excuse me? I look fine. You just look like a hoe,” you say without thinking. Taehyung scoffs loudly, a few of the other people in the kitchen turn to listen to your argument.

“Please,” he waves a hand dismissively, “You look like a sad Ariana Grande knock-off.” Another playboy bunny eating pizza by the door gasps quietly.

“Can we please talk about this somewhere else,” you hiss.

You both fume silently as you leave the kitchen make your way towards the patio at the back of the house. As you exit the main room, an obviously drunk Park Jimin dressed as an obscene banana passes by the two of you to enter the house.

“Nice ass, playboy bunny.”

You both whip yours around to grimace at his lewd remark before glaring at the other.

“He was clearly talking about me,” you snark at Taehyung.

“I doubt it. Your ass is okay, I guess. But I actually work out. He was talking about me.”

“Shut up. I’ve been doing nothing but wall sits since you asked me to come to this stupid party.”

“I sent you that three days ago. You wouldn’t even have that ass if it wasn’t for me dragging it to the gym with me 3 times a week. I can’t even get you to come with me every day.”

“Its not my fault I have a life outside of the gym. We can’t all do squats in the Starbucks line like you, you freak.”

“That was one time, damn it. Are you wearing makeup?” He gives you another incredulous once over.

“So what if I am? You think I can’t see that you are too? Your mascara is clumpy. You should have come to my room to get ready. I would have helped you,” you admit softly.

“Why are you trying to act like you did your own makeup? I recognize Jenni’s handiwork any day,” he sighs, “I should have come, though. I couldn’t see myself well enough to put my tail on, so I had to leave it off.” He pouts a little and you forget why you were ever mad at him.

“Aw, babe, I would have helped you. Its the only thing your costume is missing. Otherwise, you look amazing.”

“You do, too. I’m sorry I said that thing about Ariana Grande. You do look really good.”

“Why are we so stupid?”

“Its this fucking frat. We should go home and order pizza.” He slings a tired arm over your shoulder as you leave the patio and walk around the house. You wish you had worn boots too as you try to avoid stepping on beer cans and shaving cream piles.

“Let’s go to my room so we can use my makeup wipes,” you say before looking up at his eyes again, “and my eye-makeup remover. It’s really good, don’t worry.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Here.” You hand him your phone and turn on the selfie lights so he can properly look at himself.

“Oh my god, call an Uber, quick. No one can see me like this.” You nod seriously and call for the Uber and the pizza like a good friend.

[mafiabosstsuna]

Prompt 15: You find out that Gokudera broke off the arranged marriage because he couldn’t forget you. You want to be mad, but you can’t say no to him because you still love him. Tearful ruinion, andYamamoto gives up because he wants you to be happy. (Tho, boi, honestly, she’d be more happy with you) 

~

You were relaxing on your day off at the cafe that you normally frequented, nursing a small cup of tea while you tried to finish some work that you took home. You had to catch up from all the work you had missed recently, and this was one of the consequences.

Sighing, you kept writing the report. It was decoding a secret message that the HQ had obtained, and it was becoming difficult to concentrate on the lettering when all you wanted to do was see Gokudera.

He had called you five times already, each time you were building more courage up to answer. It was terrifying, since you didn’t know if the calls were good or bad. Was he calling to tell you that his confession had been a joke? That he just wanted to see your reaction? Or was he calling to confirm that you felt that same way? That you were going to be his affair during his marriage?

Oh god, how you hoped it wasn’t the last one.

It would be difficult to be the other woman in a relationship, as you had already discovered. Even if they didn’t love each other, it did not feel right to be the second woman because that’s all you’d ever be. The one on the side, the one who wasn’t the one who was married to him.

Letting out a long sigh, you packed you stuff into your bag, obviously not getting anything done today. No way were you going to be able to concentrate anymore, but you had made decent progress on the decoding so at least you were able to do that.

Going out of the shop, you basked in the warm weather, feeling the sun shining onto your skin. You needed to get out more, maybe get a hobby so that you weren’t cooped up inside all the time. It just felt like a waste being so hung up inside, where your thoughts consumed you when you could be outside, doing something to combat your dilemma.

You began walking back to your apartment, planning on calling some of your other friends that you had not seen in a while. With the whole Yamamoto and Gokudera fiasco, it was time that you saw your other friends, getting some quality time with people who didn’t know what was happening. It was best that way.

Bzzzt

Once again, your phone was ringing. You knew who it was, not even looking at it.

Taking the phone out of your pocket, you stared down at the flashing caller ID.

Gokudera

You thumb hovered over the answer button, still not confident enough that you’ll be able to handle talking over the phone. It didn’t seem like such a big deal, but you knew that you couldn’t do it, no matter how hard you tried.

The call ended, and your phone faded to black.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, secretly hoping that it would ring again. Swallowing around the dryness in your throat, you continued on, quicker than before, wanting to get home sooner.

Arriving in front of the apartment building, you gave a small smile to the people who pushed past, wanting to leave or get into the building. They didn’t need to know your true feelings, it was so much easier to put on a fake smile and pretend that nothing was bothering you.  The landlady gave a curt nod when you walked by.

Once you got inside, you boarded the elevator, riding four floors up before hopping off. You dipped your head down to try to find your key that you were shuffling for in your bag. Once your hand closed around the cool metal, you looked up, and almost pissed yourself.

Gokudera was sitting in front of your door, legs splayed out, and an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips. He looked like he was about to fall asleep, his eyes barely open at all. A dark purple bruise contrasted the pale skin of his face.

You carefully stepped closer, not really believing he was actually there, making sure that he wouldn’t disappear if you got too close.

A floorboard creaked, and his eyes suddenly sprang open, looking up and down the hall before they landed on you. You stopped, confused, and Gokudera took that moment to slowly get up from the floor. He wiped off the dust on his pants, and stretched, his joints popping at the movement.

“What are you doing here?”

Gokudera didn’t answer, pocketing the unlit cigarette again.

He took a step forward, and you didn’t move.

“You didn’t pick up my calls.”

“You didn’t give me a good reason to.” You answer, pushing past him and unlocking your door.

Gokudera is persistent though, and follows you inside. You let him, only wanting to hear the explanation that you have been putting off for six unanswered phone calls already.

You throw your bag onto the kitchen table, and sit down at it. Gokudera does not sit, just leans against the wall, watching you. You were tired of watching.

“Just say whatever you came to say.” You don’t look at him, but your words and lack of interest don’t faze him.

“Do you still love me?” You freeze, the words lingering in the air. It’s heavy, something that you don’t want to answer. There’s no telling what he’s actually thinking and what he is going to do if he knew that, yes, you were still in love with him.

A long pause comes over the two of you, but Gokudera knows that he has to be patient.

“I...” Your eyes find his, and tears are already coming to your eyes.

“I do.” It’s a whisper, but it speaks volumes. Gokudera smiles at your confession, and finally pushes off the wall, coming over to you. You are still in the chair, but he kneels down in front of you, grabbing your hands.

“The engagement is called off.”

What?

Before you can voice your confusion, he continues.

“I know that I’ve messed up countless of times already, but I realized that I’m in love with you. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to let you go, to let you be alone. I needed you by my side or I was going to go crazy.” He bring your hands up to his lips, kissing them.

“Tsuna was understanding about it, although I’m sure that he’s a little angry.” He squeezes your hands at this, making you smile sadly as the tears trail down your face.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Before you knew it, you threw yourself into his arms, letting out a sob. Gokudera was yours, something that you didn’t think was possible. He had given up his engagement for you, and that meant he wanted to be with you.

“I love you so much.” You sobbed, your voice muffled by his jacket. You kept crying, but Gokudera hugged you tighter as you trembled in his arms. He didn’t say anything, but his warmth reassured you that Gokudera was listening.

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, and your sobbing ended up turning into soft sniffling.

“It hurt a lot you know, being cast aside. I should hate you, but I can’t help but love you.” You mumbled, playing with his silver hair. The two of you had moved to the couch, you laying on top of Gokudera.

“I’m sorry I hurt you so much.” He kissed your temple, and you giggled a bit.

“If you hurt me again, I’ll tell Tsuna. I’m sure he would love to hear about how you hurt the woman you gave up an ally for.” You pinched his nose, and Gokudera growled a bit.

You must have made him mad, because suddenly you were the one underneath him. He pinned you down onto the couch cushions, a smirk coming onto his face.

“Shall we make up for the lost time?”

[charity-angel]

On Buns and Ovens (16/?)

[Part 1]   [Part 15]

[Read on AO3]

The med droid had provided Clovis with a comm unit, Ahsoka revealed over drinks, which had put him into direct contact with Dooku. The files that solidified the evidence against the heads of the Banking Clan had come directly from him.

Clovis submitted them to the Senate, and promptly got himself the sanctions he needed in order to become the new head of the Banking Clan.

“Which means I get a temporary change in employment,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve got a skillset that lends itself to being a freelance bodyguard, and Clovis has had bounty hunters after him for days now. We all know it was because they wanted to get him here with his evidence, but they don’t know that. Now he’s the head of the Banking Clan, he can play the ‘important person’ card and claim a bodyguard that he trusts. And I’ve technically got no ties to the GAR, the Jedi, or the Senate.”

“Except that you keep hanging around with vod’e, jetiise, and senators,” Jesse pointed out, snickering.

“Except all that, yeah. I’m off to Scipio tomorrow, with the 104th lurking nearby as backup.” She knocked back a mouthful of her drink before adding: “I’m pretty sure that Palpatine would notice Anakin’s absence at the moment, otherwise I’d love to have you along instead. The creepy little fuck couldn’t resist turning the screws a little tighter as soon as the session was over, asking him to keep watch on Clovis because neither of them trust him. At least Skyguy knows about all the messing now.”

She didn’t sound altogether confident on that count, and Kix had to agree with her. After all, Skywalker had said it himself: knowing that there were things wrong in his head and being able to do something about it were two completely different things. The second took a lot of hard work, and generally required outside assistance.

Not something Skywalker would be lacking, but he had to accept it first…

“We know too,” Rex assured her. “We’ll keep an eye on him.”

“And,” Jesse added darkly, “if things go wrong, we’ve got experience of mutinying against crazy Jedi.”

Kix smacked him around the back of the head. Rex looked relieved, probably because his gut response was more likely to be along the lines of punching Jesse in the face.

Umbara wasn’t not talked about, because that way lay madness. But they had lost far too much for anyone to joke about it. Even Jesse.

Not when Rex or their jetiise were around anyway: they all blamed themselves. Skywalker and Ahsoka blamed themselves because they weren’t there and they had trusted Krell to look after their men; Kenobi because he felt he should have noticed that something was wrong with the 501st (despite being busy trying to direct his own forces in a communications blackout); Rex blamed himself most of all because he knew something was wrong but didn’t see the full picture until it was too late. And because Dogma had taken the shot.

Ahsoka surprised them all by chuckling, although it was very much gallows humour. “I guess you do. Be nicer with him, though? He’s still my ori’vod, and he’s not being a di’kut on purpose.”

  .oOo.

  As it turned out, Ahsoka was wrong on one count. While they clearly couldn’t overtly take a whole battalion to Scipio, Senator Amidala was permitted an escort. And, while Palpatine insisted that she take at least one member of the Senate Guard with her, she was allowed three members from the 501st – clones she was familiar with – to accompany her.

Skywalker immediately assigned Rex, Jesse, and Kix. And, somehow…

“CT-7560 reporting for duty, ma’am.”

Amidala’s eyes flickered from the newcomer and his perfect salute to Rex. Some time ago, she had asked about fraternal relationships between clones, and they had explained the concept of birth-squads to her. And it looked like she had not only remembered that, but Rex’s ID number too, because she had clearly noticed the similarity and realised that this trooper would be known to Rex.

Kix knew there was a reason they all liked her so much.

“What’s your name, trooper?” she asked kindly. “And please feel free to remove your bucket.”

He was grinning as the helmet came off. “Thank you, ma’am. My name is Lingo and, if I may, it’s nice to see you looking well again. I was worried for a while.”

She gasped. “You’re the one! Kix mentioned that you contacted him.” She shook her head. “You’re the one to blame for the fact I’ve had him hovering over me for weeks.”

Lingo looked completely unrepentant. “I’d much rather have you in good health, ma’am, and there are much worse prices to pay for that than Kix’s bedside manner.”

Kix made a mental note that next time he ever had the opportunity to be responsible for Lingo’s care, he would really experience what Kix could offer in terms of bedside manners.

Amidala merely raised her eyebrows. “Indeed? Kix, it appears your vod’e do not bring out the best in you. Perhaps you need some better patients?”

He kind of wanted to kiss her for that, not only because she was defending him, but because it completely broke any ice with Lingo and brought him firmly into the fold of their little expedition.

“Perhaps I do,” he settled on instead, keeping his expression neutral, thoughtful. “Oh, to have patients who follow my advice instead of avoiding me, or trying to sneak out before they’re fit, or interpreting ‘light duties’ and ‘light exercise’ creatively.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Oh, to have a medic who looks after himself as well as his patients and doesn’t need sitting on so that he rests. Come on, let’s get going.”

Lingo was left blinking at that as he stowed his kit and they all took their seats for take-off. “I can’t decide,” he said softly to Rex, “whether the innuendo was intentional or not.”

Rex shook his head. “Normally with Jesse it would be, but on this occasion, no.”

Jesse, because of course he overheard, turned and grinned from the pilot’s seat. “Don’t be so sure, Rex – sometime the whim takes us that way.”

Kix groaned. “I’m so sorry, Senator. I swear he’s not all this crass all the time – he does know how to behave.”

She smiled. “I would honestly be more concerned if Jesse was. At least by being himself, I know that Lingo is aliit to you and will probably be a good fit for this mission.”

Lingo inclined his head by way of acknowledgement. “Thank you, ma’am. And it’s nice to be with vod’e who are a little less tightly wound than the Senate Guard for a change. I swear, being on Coruscant permanently does funny things to some brothers.”

Amidala, Force bless her, didn’t react in any way other than a slight frown. “Really?”

Lingo’s mouth did a funny little twitch as he nodded. “The best thing I can come up with is that it’s because we were raised for combat and we don’t really see any of that here. But…” He hesitated, looked at his hands as if they could give him the answers (once upon a time they would have held a datapad that probably could have, if not to this particular question). “I don’t know, ma’am. That’s how I rationalise it to myself, but something tells me that’s not right.”

“That’s troubling – I certainly wouldn’t want to think that by ensuring our safety, your brothers are being caused mental anguish. Can you tell me more?”

  .oOo.

  As Republic soldiers, none of them were allowed into the banking facility, but they were met on the landing pad by Clovis and Ahsoka, so at least there was one reliable set of eyes on their senator. Rex occupied them by making sure the arsenal they had packed into the shuttle was accessible and functional, and had them all on the alert for anything that might be even a whiff of Seppie activity.

The arrival of Senator Lawise caused a little consternation, but Senator Amidala had warned them to expect him. Just as she was representing the interests and approval of the Republic senate, Lawise would be there for the Confederacy.

The broadcast that interest on the Republic’s loans would be increased was unexpected, but not necessarily surprising – Rex quickly reasoned that this would be Clovis playing along with Dooku, each trying to reel in his catch. Kix felt that was a horribly public thing to announce for something that should have been a clandestine operation.

It was Lingo who spotted it on the sensors first:

“Here come our uninvited guests.”

Jesse barely had time to key the coded comm broadcasts to Amidala, Tano, and the 104th before the droids were on them, coming in hot. Rex grabbed Lingo and pulled him into cover behind Lawise’s ship while Kix went the opposite direction, behind a set of cargo containers. He prayed they didn’t contain fuel, otherwise he could be toast. Literally.

Jesse, on the other hand, got the ship into the air to meet them head on.

The landing pad was becoming littered with droid parts as the three of them took out the first few waves with a combination of sheer firepower and droid poppers. It left Kix glad they had planned for this, because anyone else probably would have been caught unawares.

“Hey, Lingo,” Jesse said cheerfully as he chased down an airborne vulture droid, “you still missing active combat?”

“I didn’t miss it!” Lingo protested, without losing his sight on the droid he promptly took out. “I was never cut out for all this crap!” He rolled a droid popper and disabled six more. “This is for insane people like you!”

“Looks to me like you’re doing just fine, vod,” Rex said, chuckling as he made headshot after headshot at a rate that their progenitor would have been proud of. “We’ll make an ARC of you yet.”

“But I like my job,” Lingo wailed as he continued shooting droids at a respectable rate. “I get to learn things, and I’m not completely insane.”

“Wish we’d introduced you to Echo,” Jesse commented, casually shooting down a bomber. “How many languages did he speak again?”

“Nine, I think,” Kix said. “And he was working on another two or three.”

The platform shook as something in flames collided with it, close by, and Rex cursed fluently for a few seconds.

“Lingo?” There was no point in asking Rex himself – he wouldn’t tell the truth.

“Right shoulder,” Lingo reported crisply. “Maybe a dislocation? He’s up and shooting tinnies with extreme prejudice, so he’ll probably be fine.”

Kix flicked a popper at a pair of Rollies before responding to that. “Remind me to tell you about the day he tried that with a sucking chest wound.”

“Which completely proves my point about ARCs being insane.”

“Yeah, but they make life more interesting,” a new voice cut in. Kix’s HUD identified it as CT-63-8521 of the 104th. “Speaking of interesting, care to share your fight?”

“Eris, I will blow you if you get some of these droids off my shebs,” Jesse promised unreservedly.

“Is that an open invitation to any pilot offering assistance?”

Kix was lucky he had battle instinct working in his favour, because otherwise that voice could have frozen him long enough for a droid to get an easy shot at him.

“Sir, as long as Kix agrees with me playing away from home, I am willing to try absolutely anything. I’ve heard dorin gas is pretty fun to play in.”

“TIME AND A PLACE, JESSE!” Rex roared, making Kix’s comm squeal in protest before dimming its audio output.

“Come on Rex, the general offered.”

“I know I said I’d let you try things out,” Kix said, “but I have to draw the line at autoerotic asphyxiation. But I wouldn’t say no to some assistance: these droids are relentless.”

A wing of grey-accented fighters, led by a blue-and-white striped Aethersprite, flew over his head shooting down enemy craft left, right and centre. Somewhat tragically, it was the Aethersprite that took on the two that were tailing Jesse’s craft.

  .oOo.

  Things settled pretty soon after that. The 104th didn’t put any men on the ground until the Scipian authorities gave them permission, but once that was granted they swept the surrounding areas for any surviving droids.

Kix confirmed Lingo’s initial diagnosis of a dislocated right shoulder for Rex, along with some significant bruising and reddening of the skin where his armour hadn’t quite stood up to the massive impact or the heat of the flames. He popped the shoulder back in slathered bacta over the minor burns, and tied it into a sling. (Rex glared, exasperated. Kix glared back. Kix won.) The armour wasn’t going back on, though – Rex needed a lot of new panels, and his bucket was significantly worse for wear.

Wolffe joined them and General Koon, and they were finally permitted to enter the bank. Apparently the Muuns wanted to take statements.

There wasn’t an awful lot to say: they had picked up the approach of the Seppies on their scanners only a scant few seconds before they had arrived, reported it to Senator Amidala, and the four of them had done their best to hold off the invading fleet.

Wolffe reported that Count Dooku’s flagship had turned tail once the battle was going badly. He sincerely looked like he had wanted to pursue and rip it to shreds.

The Muuns thanked them for their timely assistance, and for respecting their neutrality by not landing Republic forces without their consent.

Senator Lawise then informed them that the invasion had not been sanctioned by the Confederacy senate, and that Dooku was acting on no-one’s authority but his own. The Separatist Alliance respected the neutrality of the banks, and hoped that this incident by a rogue would not be held against them as a whole.

“As a gesture of our good faith,” he continued, his yellow eyes flickering around the assembled audience, “we will honour the promise Dooku made, and begin to repay the interest on our loans. It does not seem fair that we are being held to different terms than the Republic.”

Clovis inclined his head. “Thank you, Senator Lawise. I know you are a man of your word, and I would be very glad to return both loans to their original, fair terms.

“Senator Amidala, does that meet with your approval?”

She smiled graciously. “It does. Thank you, Director Clovis.”

  .oOo.

  Ahsoka was in the middle of explaining how Lawise had known about Dooku’s discussion with Clovis, and that Clovis had been open with the Muuns about the fact they were trying to flush out a conspiracy, when the news flashed through, announced by Chancellor Palpatine himself:

“The traitor ARC-5555, has been killed on Talchios IV.”

[entertainmentptlanet-blog]

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