#magic the gathering battlegrounds

[z2z-gaming-and-random-art-ai]

Console Fighting Games of 2003 - Compilation Part 2

Compilation of Fighting games released on consoles in 2003, this compilation is part 2 of 6 and features Gotcha Force, Guilty Gear X2 The Midnight Carnival #Reload, Hyper Street Fighter II The Anniversary Edition, Kung Fu Chaos and Magic The Gathering Battlegrounds.

0. Intro 00:00 1. Gotcha Force 00:15 2. Guilty Gear X2 The Midnight Carnival #Reload 04:28 3. Hyper Street Fighter II The Anniversary Edition 13:50 4. Kung Fu Chaos 19:56 5. Magic The Gathering Battlegrounds 24:10 6. Outro 31:42

For Other Compilation videos check out this playlist https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEjFei9KXJ8xDIChQB8WLJd

[porygon-v]

okay maybe this is niche but i am fucking obsessed (and have been all my life) with magic the gathering battlegrounds, like the video game. it is SO FUN im mad its been so neglected

[strawberryfairi]

Synopsis🌹: After discovering a strange yet alluring red book in a boutique bookstore, you find yourself sucked into a strange world, where all of your inner most desires exist…

Pairings: Wakasa Imaushi X Musician! Black Fem 🤎 Reader (ANYONE CAN READ🧚🏾‍♀️) Content: Author AU, scifi, Musician! reader, reader is a talented nerd, smutty (slow burn) romance, tiny doses of angst, adventure, futuristic city, magic?, !!sexual tension!!, etc (just find out the rest, lol)

w.c: 4.1k💠 Released: November 23

Previous | Next… | Chapters Masterlist

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Ok soooo, PLEASE forgive me for the long ahh wait for the next chapter I am SOOO sorry!!! Like I said in a post earlier tonight's gonna be DOUBLE CHAPTER night ok so buckle up! (The smut comes in chapter 8 which is coming out right after this one).

C.W: None

Tags: @nixalozt @lilthana @wakasaishot

↳ (Let me know via inbox or the comment section if you would also like to be tagged here for this story🩵). Enjoy guys!!

𝟕 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞

The night buzzes with excitement, and the faint hum of engines revving fills the air as a crowd unlike anything you've ever seen gathers at the underground race venue. It didn't take a genius to see this is no ordinary street race—not like the ones you'd ever see on Earth. This is Neon City's race circuit. Practically a battleground where the streets themselves became part of the danger.

A massive holographic screen hovers in the air, announcing the event along, and casting ghostly lights across the spacious subway landscape. Discreet drone cameras hover all throughout the "track" around the city. Some even hover by some of the racers, giving a sort of "behind the scenes" feel before the race starts.

"There's no rules here, no safety regulations. The only thing that matters is winning." You hear Benkei's voice snap you out of your awestruck daze as you gawk at the surroundings. You honestly can't even form a response, too busy being overstimulated and anxious to really hold any sort of conversation. Everyone and everything is so colorful and captivating. Like Times Square in New York City.

The vehicles that line up for these races are decked out with enhancements that would be literally impossible on Earth—gravity-defying jumps, reinforced vehicles built to survive brutal collisions, and offensive systems to sabotage their competition. Every racer knows the risks, but none of them seem to care. They're each addicted to the thrill, to the rush of speed, the danger, and most importantly, to the glory of being the one who comes out on top.

You stand off to the side with Wakasa's crew, your heart racing. The neon lights reflect off your eyes as you take it all in, the sights, the sounds, the intensity of it all. Honestly, it's like something out of Mario kart, minus the cute playfulness and ability to pause or retry the races. This is real life and there's absolutely no room for any of the racers to make a mistake, as it would mean risking their life.

"Hey! Love your outfit!"

You turn, surprised by the sudden compliment, and are greeted by a bright, bubbly girl with striking pink hair that cascades down her shoulders like water waves. Her eyes are an equally vibrant shade of pink, sparkling like candy gems beneath the neon lights. She literally looks like a movie character or something.

You blink, taken aback for a moment by the sheer beauty of the girl. "Thanks but...," You trail off, a smile curling your lips. "This pink going on? It's giving Valentine's Day; it's giving Barbie." You compliment.

The pink-haired girl's face lights up even more, her eyes twinkling as she giggles. "Valentine's Day? What's that?"

You laugh softly. "It's a holiday where I'm from. It's like a day of love. Pink, red, and purple. It's the colors we associate with love."

"Aww, thank you! I love it." The girl beams. "I'm Astra."

Before you can introduce yourself, another voice joins the conversation. "Don't hog all the spotlight," The second girl teases lightly, stepping forward with a playful grin. She has midnight blue hair cut into a sharp bob that frames her delicate face perfectly, her eyes an equally deep shade of blue that shimmer under the city's lights.

"I'm Nafré," She adds, flicking a strand of hair out of her face. "Love the vibe you're giving off, by the way."

You feel warmth rush through you as you smile at her. "Thanks! You look amazing too! That hair color is so pretty."

Astra grins, giving a mock bow. "Why, thank you."

The three of you share a moment of laughter, compliments bouncing back and forth like old friends as you drift away from Benkei and the others. It's actually refreshing. You hadn't really expected to make friends so quickly (or at all) in this world, let alone ones so sweet and welcoming.

"So, what brings y'all to the race?" You ask curiously, glancing between them.

"Oh, my boyfriend's racing tonight," Astra explains with a smile. "He's been readying up for this big gig for weeks, so of course, I had to come and cheer him on. I dragged Nafré along because—well, she's my best friend and all."

Nafré grinned. "Not like I had a choice. But hey, the races are fun! It's an adrenaline rush."

"I've never seen you before. Is this your first time at a race?" Astra asks.

You nod. Technically it is since you didn't really get to see the race between Jaxon and Zero. Though that was probably for the best. "Yeah actually. I'm here for Wakasa. He's racing too."

The two girls exchange a quick look at each other.

"What?" Nafré gawks, her brow raised in disbelief.

Astra adds, "Here for him as in a fan or....?"

"Here with him?" Nafré finishes.

"Uhhh, with." You chuckle awkwardly, watching as their expressions morph into a look of awe.

"Stop! Are you serious?!", Astra gawks, "Are you his girlfriend?!"

"Huh?! No no no," You shake your head, "I'm literally just here for the ride."

Nafré raises a brow, her smirk growing playful. "Ohh, here for the ride, huh?" She teases, winking suggestively.

You burst into laughter, covering your face with your hands for a moment. "Wait no! Not like that!"

Astra wasn't about to let you off the hook so easily. "Uh-huh, right," She teases, crossing her arms and giving you a knowing look. "I've literally never seen Wakasa bring a girl along to his races before, like ever. But you wanna sit here and tell me it's not like that? Yeah ok."

"Yeah I can't lie, that was a nice try. Everyone knows what it means when a guy brings a girl along to watch one of his races. Especially when he brings her to "the pit" (The Pit: The closest you can be towards the starting and finishing line in a Neon City race)." Astra chimes in, gesturing around to where you all are.

"Well...I mean—"

"It's alright girl, you don't have to make up anything. I kept things lowkey with Shin in the beginning too. I only went to one race, and it was just a beginner one." Astra grins.

"Oh yeah, by the way, which one is Shin?" You ask, your eyes scanning out towards all the racers. The girls keep on walking to get a closer look at all the racers.

"That one. He's six away from your man." She replies.

Your heart does a little unnecessary flutter when she calls Waka your man, but you quickly brush it off. You follow her pointed finger, eyes landing on a particularly tall guy with dark hair and a silver chain around his neck. He's pretty good looking, dressed fairly casual with black jeans and a white t-shirt, and he also rides a motorcycle just like Waka does.

"Okkkk! Girl, he's not bad!" You compliment, giving her an approving nod.

"Right! And to think I used to date—

"Don't even say it." Nafré cuts in, face palming.

"....Who?!" You ask cautiously. It's not like you'd even know, seeing as you're quite literally not from here.

"...Zero." She chokes out, looking down and to the side shamefully.

"Noooo! Stop!" You gasp, hovering your hands over your mouth. Of all people....

"Yeah. It-...it wasn't my best era." She chuckles awkwardly.

"Girl...." You trail off, not even sure what to say since you actually do know who that is thanks to Jaxon's race with him. "Well, you know what, you've leveled up now! Shin seems like a really nice guy!"

"He is." She gushes, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "Hey Shin!" She calls out, waving her arm to get his attention. He actually notices, instantly turning around with a wide smile, waving at her then blowing a kiss her way.

"Aaaaaw!" You and Nafré gush. It's so crazy how calm and even happy these guys seem even though they're all just moments away from engaging in a life threatening race.

You look over at Wakasa, who's standing by his bike talking to Benkei, Jaxon, and some other guy you've never seen before with a scar along his face. The reality starts to sink back in, having been swept away in the breeze of conversation between Nafré and Astra, that this is still a dangerous and potentially life threatening event. A frown replaces the previous warm smile, and your heart begins to sink with worry.

"Hey. Why don't you go talk to your man?" Nafré asks, with almost scarily perfect timing to negate the oncoming rush of anxious thoughts towards this race.

"Definitely not my man...but I was actually just thinkin' about going over to talk to him real quick before the race starts." You tell her in a low tone, then shoot her a quick "I'll be right back", breaking away from the two and heading over to where Waka and his friends are.

He notices you instantly, and you catch a glimpse of a faint softness in his eyes as you approach. "Came to see me off?" He grins.

"Yeah" You begin, nervously fiddling with your hands in front of you, "I know you've done this a lot and stuff but...this whole thing looks really dangerous, you know? So, you better be careful, ok? For real, I don't wanna see you—

"Oh Waka, please be careful!" Benkei suddenly mimics loudly, pitching his voice higher and fluttering his hands dramatically in the air, much to Jaxon's amusement.

"Nah, don't worry about me, baby. I got this." Jaxon chimes in, the two of them chuckling like idiots behind you both.

Your eyes narrow, cheeks burning up with embarrassment as the guys go on playing around. They continue their back and forth but walk away to you guys some space. You hear the other man with the scar on his face briefly ask who you are, before they completely fade out of earshot.

Waka chuckles softly, shaking his head. "See? Now you've got them goin'. But for real, don't worry. I got this."

His smirk deepens. "Besides"—he leans in slightly, lowering his voice—"I've got an undefeated record I gotta keep up. Can't let 'em ruin my streak. Not with a pretty doll like you watchin'." He hums, lightly tapping under your chin.

You shake your head, a small smile draping across your lips. "You really think racing in front of me's gonna be enough to keep you from losing?"

"Absolutely," He replies, his voice a little lower, yet equally as playful. He straightens up, leaning just close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. "And actually...I was thinkin' we should make this interesting."

"How could this possibly get more interesting?" You raise a brow, curiosity piqued.

"It ain't a real racing experience if you don't make a bet. That's how it goes around here. So how 'bout this", He says, holding your gaze with a bold intensity that sends a shiver of excitement down your spine, "If I win, you're comin' home with me to celebrate."

Your cheeks warm immediately, and you try to ignore the quickening of your pulse, as well as the multitude of very unfriendly-like imaginations of going home with him. You don't back down from his challenge though. Keeping your tone light, you raise a brow as if unaffected. "Hmm..ok, and if you lose?"

Wakasa's eyes sparkle, a dangerous glint in his lilac gaze. "I won't."

The simple, confident reply makes your heart skip, but you feign indifference once again, giving a dismissive wave. "How 'bout you just focus on winning first, before thinkin' about what's going down after, ok? Now that's a deal."

"Believe it or not I like to plan ahead." He muses playfully.

The announcer calls for all of the racers to start heading out to the starting line, and it makes your anxiety spike once again.

"Alright, make sure you keep you're eyes open." He says.

"I'll try..." You murmur nervously, giving him a small wave goodbye, watching as he heads off to his bike at the starting line.

You chew on your lip till it hurts, trying to hold back the unease gnawing at you. You want to be fully excited, you really do, but this isn't at all what you were initially expecting of a street race. This one is even crazier looking than the last one you caught a glimpse of at Sector 9. Your fingers subconsciously grip tightly around Benkei's muscular arm, holding on as if the contact would somehow ground you.

Benkei glances down, noticing your grip, and chuckles. "You're really worked up, huh?" His tone lightly teasing. "I'm tellin' you, Waka's got this. He always does."

"I know, I know." You reply, trying to sound confident, but your voice wavers heavily. You don't pull away from him, though. "It's just...this is really different, you know, from races I'm used to. The track, the traps...I don't know. We don't do races like this where I'm from."

The other friend with the scar, who's standing on the other side of Benkei chimed in. "Don't stress yourself out. He's undefeated for a reason. I'm Takeomi by the way. Me and Waka go way back."

"I'm Y/N. We kinda just met." You tell him with a shy yet pleasant smile.

"I can tell..." He says, giving Jaxon and Benkei a look. You could tell what he was silently asking them.

Is this his girl or something? What's he doing bringing her here?

Though the guys mean well, their casual confidence makes you want to scream. You know they're probably right—Wakasa's been u defeated for who knows how long, and he likely isn't about to lose his streak now—but still, the pit of dread in your stomach refuses to settle. The thought of something going wrong, of one of those other racers playing dirty, makes your chest tighten. You aren't used to feeling this way, so utterly out of control, so scared.

And then, the countdown begins.

The huge holographic screen above everyone lights up, displaying a massive number 10 in glowing neon blue. The crowd starts chanting, voices rising in unison, the excitement in the air nearly palpable.

9

Your heart starts racing, thrumming in your ears as you glance over at Wakasa. He's laser focused, his gaze locked on the track ahead, hands gripping the handlebars of his bike like he's already one with the machine.

8

The other racers revved their engines, taunting him, trying to get in his head. But Wakasa doesn't flinch even a little. His eyes remain sharp, his jaw set. He was ready.

7

"Please be careful..." You whisper, barely aware of the words leaving your own lips. Your grip on Benkei tightens, and this time, he doesn't tease you about it. He simply gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

6. 5. 4.

Your hands start to tremble slightly, and you force yourself to take a deep breath, eyes never leaving Wakasa.

3

The racers all continue revving their engines loudly, like a bunch of bulls knocking and banging against the wooden gate, eager to be freed into the ring.

2

You can feel it, the tension, the anticipation, the quiet before the storm.

1...GO!

The racers shoot forward, a rush of sound and motion that blurred into streaks of neon. Wakasa's bike left a trail of purple light as it surged ahead, weaving through the tightly packed starting line with effortless precision.

The track started deep in the subway system, a labyrinth of tunnels barely wide enough to contain the speeding vehicles. The first turn came quickly, a sharp curve to the right that forced the racers to swerve hard. Taking a turn at that speed has to be physically impossible.

You wince, squeezing your eyes closed as your breath catches. On the holographic screen above, you watch as Wakasa leans into the turn with full confidence, the purple streak behind him carving a perfect arc through the chaos.

The other racers aren't as graceful though. One clips the wall, sparks flying as their bike scrapes against the steel. Another misjudges the angle entirely, spinning out and slamming directly into a support pillar. The pit crowd roared, half cheering, half jeering.

You can't even begin to cheer. Your breath catches every time the camera cuts back to Wakasa, terrified to see a shot of him crashing or even worse. He maneuvers through the wreckage with nearly surgical precision, tilting his bike at impossible angles to dodge debris and weaving seamlessly through the narrow spaces.

"I can't, I can't, I can't...." You repeat under your breath, your eyes glued to the screen as your foot taps the ground anxiously where you stand.

The track twists again, plunging deeper into the tunnels before reaching the opening to the city. The racers were now jockeying for position, their vehicles packed tightly together as they vied for dominance. One rider, a hulking figure on a chrome-plated bike, edged closer to Wakasa, trying to box him in against the wall.

Your stomach twists in anxiety as she saw the narrow gap Wakasa had to navigate. The chrome racer leaned in aggressively, but Wakasa didn't flinch. Instead, he braked sharply, his bike tilting back slightly as he let the other racer overshoot the angle. In a flash, Wakasa swerves left, slipping past the gap and accelerating ahead, his purple streak cutting through the maze like a lightning bolt.

The pit erupted in cheers, but her hands were still trembling.

Your heart pounds as the race transitions aboveground, the vehicles bursting onto the neon-lit streets of the city. The holographic display adjusts to follow the racers as they all speed through tight alleyways and open highways, the city’s towering structures a vibrant blur in the background.

The race aboveground is even more chaotic than underground. The racers now have to contend with the unpredictable layout of the city, weaving through alleyways, highways, and pedestrian walkways. Wakasa remains ahead of most of the pack, his bike darting through tight spaces with unerring precision.

Your heart nearly stops as the screen shows one of the racers behind him deploying some kind of medium sized drone. The device zips forward, its spiked appendages whirring menacingly as it closes in on Wakasa's rear tire.

"He's cheating!" You outburst.

"Unfortunately, it's legal." Jaxon says with a huff.

But Wakasa must have sensed what was going on behind him. Without looking back, he veers sharply to the right, cutting onto another street entirely, filled with pedestrians and other drivers simply heading from home from work. The drone follows him, its mechanical limbs scraping against the walls as it tries to keep up.

The street suddenly opens up into a plaza, and Waka seizes the moment. He tilted his bike sharply, skidding in a controlled slide that sent the drone hurtling past him. It smashes into a streetlight, exploding in a shower of sparks.

The crowd erupts into cheers once again, but at this point you're barely remembering to breathe.

The race plunges back underground, this time into an abandoned maintenance tunnel that's barely wide enough for the racers. The camera switches to an overhead view, showing how the racers have to line up single file to avoid colliding with the walls.

Wakasa, now in second place, uses the tight space to his advantage. He edges closer to the lead racer, his bike nearly grazing the wall as he closed the gap. Just as the tunnel began to widen, Waka makes his move. He accelerates sharply, leaning forward until his body was almost parallel to the bike. The purple streak flares brighter as he shoots past the lead racer, his bike slipping through the narrowing gap with millimeters to spare.

Your breath hitches. He's pushing so hard, taking so many risks and doing all these crazy tricks. 

The holographic screen cut to another angle, showing the cyber-police drones beginning to close in on the racers at the back of the pack. Their blue lights flicker ominously as they hone in on their targets. One drone shoots forward, deploying a neon red energy net that ensnares a struggling racer and sends him spinning completely out of control.

Wakasa, far ahead of the chaos, seems unfazed. He maintains his lead as the track transitioned back to the streets. The camera followed him closely as he navigates a series of hairpin turns, the purple streak behind him tracing impossible angles.

Just then, a group of seven cyber-police drones turn out from between skyscrapers, attempting to cut him off from the front as two other bots catch up to him from behind, weaving through the other racers. 

"Gosh this is too much...!" You groan, chewing anxiously on your bottom lip as you clasp your now sweaty hands together. Your mind races, as if trying to think for him for a way to somehow get out of this situation. But there's no need. 

Suddenly, Waka pulls to an abrupt stop, three other racers and two cyber-police drones zooming in front of him. He immediately pulls into a quick reverse, driving backwards and sharply turning into an alleyway that he uses as a shortcut. The audience goes absolutely wild, everyone screaming and hollering in awe at the insane move he just pulled. 

"WHAT?! WAIT, HOW THE HELL?" You outburst, your jaw on the floor. The other racers all crash into the cyber-police, causing a multi-vehicle collision, including poor non-racing drivers. 

"That's Waka for you. Crazy bastard." Both Takeomi and Benkei mutter at the same time. Jaxon's expression is the same as your, completely blown away with his eyes glued to the big screen.

The final stretch of the race is a straightaway leading to a glowing finish line. Behind him, the other racers left are still jostling for his position, though all they can hope for at this point is second place. They all reenter the subway, the scenery on the big screen looking familiar as they make their way back. The sounds of their engines becoming louder with each second.

Wakasa crosses the "finish line" first, his bike slowing as the crowd erupts into roaring cheers. The purple streak fades, leaving only the faint glow of the underground lights reflecting off his bike.

You exhale a shaky breath, your body starting to relax as you realize it's finally over.

The racers who made it back all cut off their engines, instantly getting surrounded by their friends, girlfriends, and others as they dismount from their bikes or hop out of their cars.

Without thinking, your legs pull you into action, weaving through people as you run towards him. He notices you just as he dismounts from his bike, his lilac eyes lighting up at the sight of you once again.

The corners of his mouth curve into an easygoing, satisfied grin just as you barrel into him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. The drones all zoom in on the two of you, catching all kinds of angles as the holographic screen displays it for everyone to see.

But the both of you are too preoccupied to notice.

“You won, oh my gosh!” You beam, clinging to him. “That was insane—I can't even believe you! You're giving..." You trail off, struggling to find the right descriptive words, "You were out there giving...just like straight up—

Without warning, he crouches down slightly, wrapping an arm firmly around the backs of your thighs. In one swift motion, he lifts you off the ground and slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes or something with a mischievous looking grin on his lips.

"Hey! Wait, my skirt!" You holler, quickly using a hand to hold the back of your skirt in place just in case. Nonchalantly he heads back over to his bike parked across the finish line.

"What're you doing?! Put me down!" You laugh. The drones are all still locked in on the two of you, playing out what's happening on that jumbo screen.

"Not a chance. Bet's a bet. I won, so I'm cashin' in. " He says, smirking as he straightens up, holding you securely. He turns to face his crew, Jaxon and Benkei already bubbling up with laughter, and Takeomi simply shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

"Alright, I'm gettin' outta here, boys." He calls out, "I gotta handle somethin'."

"Take it easy on her, Waka. She's still new to your crazy lifestyle." Benkei teases, crossing his arms and grinning from ear to ear. 

"Yeah man, don't scare her off." Takeomi adds, though his teasing tone suggests he isn't at all worried about that.

"Bruh, this is so embarrassing. There's literally cameras everywhere; we're on the big screen!" You protest between laughs, though that laughter and the sparkle in your eyes betray just how much fun you're actually having.

"There's nothin' embarrassing about it. Everybody can see how pretty you are." He replies playfully, setting you down just to help you onto his bike. Then, he swings his leg over the bike and settles in front of you, the sleek black machine rumbling to life beneath you once again. You barely have time to process what's happening before Waka revvs the engine. "Hold on tight." He says, glancing back at you with a smirk.

"You and this crazy bike..." You groan, memories form your first time riding with him resurfacing as you tightening your grip around him. 

He pulls off and out of the scene, leaving the erupting cheers and drone cameras behind. 

A/N🧚🏾‍♀️: Yaaaasss! It always feels so good putting out another chapter😌anyways stayed tuned for chapter 8! I should have it out in like an hour or so teeheee!!

[enbycrip]

We’ve seen it everywhere. But it’s incredibly important that this is seen, discussed and accepted in academic discourse for a whole bunch of reasons.

The misogynist idea that AFAB and AMAB bodies are fundamentally very different and that AFAB bodies are fundamentally inferior is putting up a huge fight atm.

It’s not only “gender criticals”, though they are a big part of this and transphobia is one of the big battlegrounds of it. It’s also the anti-choice stuff rolling across the US trying to define any body capable of pregnancy as having its primary function being a vessel for foetuses.

And to do that you need to play up the idea that those bodies are fundamentally very different, and that AFAB bodies are fundamentally “intended” for pregnancy and birth. Enforcing this fake history where AFAB lives were entirely defined by pregnancy, birth and child-rearing is a weapon in that, and exposing it as ideological rather than evidence-based is *incredibly* fucking important.

This *doesn’t* mean that we should stop pointing out the fundamentally ridiculous nature of considering hunting as important as it is painted in popular culture when most studies consider that 80% minimum of “hunter-gatherer” societies’ food is foraged. It’s a fundamentally Victorian construct that considers “hunting is the active, ‘masculine’ work so therefore it must be the *real* work of a society”, no matter how much evidence is found that foraging was far more fundamental to survival.

It is *so* important to keep on emphasising the constructed nature of not only human gender, but gendered structures in human societies.

There is this huge sociopolitical push from “conservative” religious and cultural forces all over the planet rn to push the idea that certain social structures - fundamentally misogynist ones - are somehow “innate”, “inherent” and “natural”.

Hence the push to attack trans people in particular. We put the lie to so many of their cherished myths just by existing. We are living magic - the proof of human fluidity; the living potential for change; the living promise that things Don’t Have To Be This Way.

[jadegretz]

Tira: Dance of the Whirling Blades by Jade Gretz

In the quiet village of Eldergloom, dusk settled like a cloak over the cobblestone streets, casting long shadows and an air of unease. It was a place shrouded in fear, where whispers of witchcraft and dark magic had driven the townsfolk to paranoia. For months, a group of zealous witch hunters had terrorized the village, seeking out anyone they suspected of practicing dark arts. The once-peaceful village had turned into a place of suspicion and dread, where even the innocent feared for their lives.

At the heart of this turmoil was Tira, a beautiful yet deadly warrior from the Soul Calibur universe. Known for her agility and dark charm, Tira was a figure both feared and revered. She had come to Eldergloom not by choice but by fate, drawn by the whispers of a cursed artifact rumored to be hidden within the village. But as she arrived, she found herself in the midst of a witch hunt, a perfect opportunity for her to exercise her lethal skills.

Tira moved silently through the shadows, her twin ringblades, Eiserne Drossel, glinting faintly in the moonlight. Her presence was almost ghostly, her steps light and deliberate. She had been watching the witch hunters for days, learning their patterns, their weaknesses. They were ruthless and merciless, but they were also arrogant and predictable. Tira relished the challenge they presented, seeing it as a game where the stakes were life and death.

As the night deepened, Tira made her move. She had chosen the old chapel as her battleground, a place where the witch hunters often gathered to plan their next move. It was an ancient building, its stone walls covered in ivy, its stained glass windows depicting scenes of divine judgment. Tira slipped inside, her senses heightened, her body coiled like a spring ready to unleash its deadly force.

Inside the chapel, the witch hunters were gathered around a large wooden table, maps and scrolls spread out before them. Their leader, a burly man with a scarred face and cold eyes, was speaking in low, menacing tones, outlining their next target. Tira listened intently, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the name. It was a …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

[nrdmssgs]

Darker matters (part 8)

Masterlist Previous part

Angst Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: The completion of the rescue mission Warnings: Swearing, mention of kidnapping

Thanks: My very important people: @siilvan, @homicidal-slvt, @sofasoap and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. @pale-elysium I love you so much.

Zhar barely catches, what exactly Ghost and Krueger are growling at each other. One of them points to a now empty window frame, and Olga looks there. The lower threshold of the frame is painted with a dark scarlet, and reddening wet lines stretch from the window sill to the floor. She gathers all the strength to concentrate and remember, what happened, but two men shouting above her make it almost impossible.

Their voices echo, mix together with the noises of the battle unraveling on the lower floor. Olga can only make out something about medic evac. For a split second she's afraid, they are planning to send her off, but then Ghost shakes his head.

Krueger curses, looking from Ghost to Zhar. Then he finally leans closer to her and asks, ‘how's your pain limit, commander?’.

“Ask my burnt ass,” Olga winces. 

“She's going to be alright.” Ghost stands up and takes the gun out of the holster. “Behave, commander, and I'll bring you a gift. Served just as you wanted.”

He disappears around the corner to Krueger's displease. He doesn't hide it, frowning while he undoes Zhars vest and pulls the med bag closer. It takes him a few moments to stop the stream of frustrated thoughts regarding the outsider among them in such a critical mission and concentrate fully on his commander's wounds. 

“Ok, lets, oh fu-” He pauses, glances at Olga's paling face. “Let's make it quick - I promise to be gentle, you - to not fire me, if it hurts too much.”

***

“Affirmative, out.” Iskra flips the switch on her comms and turns back to the rest of her team. 

“Krueger got Zhar, we're not waiting for them. Once again: two people, who leave this shithole on their two,” she points at the door leading to the lowest level of the base, “are Nikolai and Sedmi. I want every other one dead by the time, we are done.”

“Which ones of you are assigned to get Sedmi?” The question sounds from the darkest corner of the hall and only the outlines of a white skull mask give away the fact, that somebody actually stands there.

Others turn their heads towards the voice, but nobody answers: they've already heard through comms, that they have a ‘guest star’ today, but none of them is sure, if the man is worth of their trust.

“Us three,” Iskra points at herself and two other soldiers. After all, if Zhar trusts him - that means something. “You with us?”

“Won't even notice me.” Ghost checks his gun and takes a step forward.

***

By the time, they descend to the subterranean level of the base, Iskra is sure: this is the place, where they keep Nikolai. They've checked every meter of the upper levels and Sedmi and Nik were not there. 

Their shadows cling to every corner and the hum of machinery reverberate through narrow passages. 

Iskras group stops right before the long dark hall and waits for their technician to work his magic. He manages to bring the lamps back to life only for a few short moments, but that's enough. The flicker of harsh fluorescent lights offers much needed glimpses of the subterranean battleground. Silhouettes of enemies materialize in the shadows, and hungry for blood Chimeras press forward.

Short, bright flashes of gunfire and dim flashing lights from cameras and alarms briefly illuminate scenes of brutality. Chimeras are trained to fight quickly and with maximum efficiency. But now the fatigue and irritation accumulated over the long weeks of preparation for the operation are making themselves felt: soldiers do not hide the pleasure with which they are slaughtering the remnants of Sedmi’s army.

Leading her men forward, Iskra loses the sight of Ghost, but that doesn't bother her anymore - she's too concentrated on her goal. Every step forward comes at the cost of sweat and grit, as the enemy, cloaked in shadows, retaliate with a relentless determination to protect their bargaining chip - Nikolai.

The moment, when her eyes meet Sedmis marks the shift in her fighting style. If Iskra was searching for anything, that could point her in the right direction before - she now was full of determination to get that man. 

Iskra sees desperation in his face, sees a cornered animal instead of a warrior, and stops holding back. She follows him, as the man runs to a door at the end of the hall, closes the gap with relentless strides, feasting upon the fear, that she catches in his eyes, each time he looks back at her.

There are not more than a few meters left between them, when bullets trace the air right above Iskras head. She drowns to the floor, distracted by enemy fire and curses, hearing, how Sedmi frantically fumbles with the lock.

In the heat of battle, out of the corner of her eye, she notices a blurry shadow gliding very close. Her gaze catches on a large silhouette, and, clinging to the wall, she turns around and sees Ghost. He appears behind Sedmi’s back so quietly that he remains unnoticed until rises to his full height. With a precisely controlled movement, he hits the enemy in the temple with his elbow, and Sedmi falls to the ground.

***

Nikolai thought of the possible scenarios of him finally meeting Olga again almost constantly. To kill time, to forget the physical pain, to remain calm, to not let intrusive thoughts with other scenarios in.

He forgets his plans for a short time, when the door to his room is opened and he sees Iskra. 

“Iskorka, spasibo, moya zolotaya.*” Nik smiles as she walks in and sets him free from the restraints. 

As if sensing the question, that eats him alive, Iskra says ‘she's here, now let's go get you to the medics, commander.’

Despite him being perfectly fit to fight the remnants of Sedmis army, Iskra leads Nikolai straight to the stairway. He doesn't protest though, sensing, how worried she is about finally getting her commander back. Nik glances around and takes a mental note about an unsettlingly great number of enemy bodies, lying on the floor.

“Chimera partnered with someone for this?”

“Chimera grew bigger, while you were away,” for the first time Iskra, always so concentrated and serious, smiles.

Nikolai doesn't have too much time to think about her answer though, because when they emerge on the first floor - they meet Zhar. 

Nik freezes, stops in his tracks and just watches her pass by, seemingly not even noticing him. She looks nothing like a month before, when they saw each other last time. She's just a wraith, a mere shadow of herself: skin pale to the point, when it looks grayish, jerky movements, cold, lifeless eyes. Olga advances forward steadily, but it doesn't escape Nikolais eyes, that she uses the wall as support to avoid falling.

Ignoring Iskras hand, clasping to his shirt, he takes a step to Olga, all the scenarios of him holding her, hiding her from any harm and finally comforting her coming back to life in his head. Iskra calls out Zhar, saying, they have Nikolai at last. Olga doesn't slow down or turn to them. The words, that she throws over her shoulder, feel like a punch in the guts, like an invisible wall, that stops Nik.

“Get him as far as possible from here.”

***

Sedmis head is killing him with a potent ache and deafening ringing noise. At first, he doesn't want to open his eyes, but the disorientation makes him feel dizzy to the point, when he has to see, if he is lying on the floor, sitting, or really being constantly swirled around, as he feels.

Blinking against the dim light, he becomes aware of the confining reality - the good news is that he's seated. Immobilized and tied to a chair, yes, but seated. You won't seat a man, unless you don't want to speak to.

The bad news is the man, dragging a table to the center of the room. Sedmi heard of this one.

“So you are the guy, the bitch assigned to kill me? How do they call you, a Phantom?”

The man ignores Sedmi and touches the light bulb flickering above his head. Blinking a couple more times, the lamp lights up with a dim but even light. As he looks right at it, Sedmi notices drips of blood running down his mask and gear. 

“How is it going to happen. You shoot me? Ain't no way, Price would let you keep me.”

His captor slowly squints, looking at him, but not turning his head from the lamp. After a few minutes of silence, he walks behind Sedmi and tightens up the knots, restraining him.

“My job here is to keep you alive.” Sedmi doesn't like, how this mans voice sounds. There is a big part of calmness there, but there is also an anticipation. 

Zhar enters the room and Sedmi relaxes: despite the coarse texture of the ropes biting into his flesh right through his clothes, despite the masked silent enigma standing somewhere behind him, Sedmi feels, he might after all regain control over the situation. When it comes to Olga - Sedmi always knows, where to push to make her do stupid things, she might regret later.

“So you bring this beast with you, and he's the good cop here?” Sedmi chokes on quiet laughter, his shoulders shake, but almost immediately feels the men hand gripping the back of his neck.

“How much did you pay him? And for what? How would he explain getting involved in an operation to save an ass in the international-class criminal?”

Zhar doesn't react to Sedmis rant - she leisurely sits down on the opposite chair and throws a folder with some papers on the table. Her captive continues to hurl insults and questions, but Olga’s unfocused gaze pierces through him, and her hands rummage through all her pockets. Finally, her face comes to life, and she takes out an inhaler in a bright children's case and places it on the table right before Sedmi.

He falls silent as soon as he sees that. The room seems to tighten its grip on him, amplifying the gravity of the situation. He swallows hard, tasting the metallic tang of fear.

“Where's he?” Sedmis first question is barely audible. None of his captors reacts to it, so he asks once again. Only this time he screams.

“Where's he? Where is my son?! What did you do, you sick fuck?!” 

“Now you're asking the right questions…” Olga answers in a calm tone, contrasting with his shouts. Then she looks up and addresses to her colleague.

“Can do it alone.”

No answer from behind, not even the slightest movement. Zhar sighs with some unhealthy hissing sound escaping her lungs and her gaze falls back on Sedmi.

“Last few weeks were quite busy, hm?” She leans forward, her fingers trace invisible lines on the desk around the inhaler. “Monitoring Chimera newest hires, cutting off our supply chains, listening to my phone calls, talking to me, sending that guy after my informants… And taking care of Nikolai, of course. Did I miss anything? Side jobs, reports to your friends?”

Her captive remains silent, catching every word, that escape her lips.

“So many things to do, so little time for your family. At first, I did believe, you were smart enough to not have one. But Chimera is a creature with many eyes and ears. While you were enjoying me failing terribly at following your orders to ruin the company - my many eyes were watching, where you send your most trusted men, my many ears were listening to your late night talks. Ada was right by the way - you should have brought more time with her and Luka. Such a beautiful wife, such a sweet little kid.”

Sedmi shudders, his hands involuntarily try to stretch forward, but his captor has tied him securely.

“My first intention was to visit your big shiny villa, the one with the million dollar view. Ada talked so much about the incredible treats that your personal chef made you there… I just had to check it.” Zhar takes a folder and drags the first paper out of it.

A photo falls on the desk before Sedmis eyes and what he sees on it makes his heart skip a beat: his and Adas bedroom burnt. Black walls, iron bed base merely peeking from a huge pile of ashes, dark pieces of fabric and plastic, empty picture frames laying on the floor.

“I have Lukas room too, have a peek.” She throws another photo before him - Sedmi doesn’t risk looking at it. 

“Where are they?” He growls at her.

“Don't you act as if I could find them in your main property. We both know, it's not like that.” Zhar seems to miss his question completely. “To be honest - I wasn't surprised either. It would be too obvious, and besides, it would take so much more men to actually guard such a place and not just make an impression. So I moved further to your other secret harbors.”

Sedmi feels that he slowly but surely becomes a helpless spectator in his own harrowing drama. Images lay bare the shattered remnants of what once were sanctuaries. His and Ada's houses, every room and every memory, are now not more than charred skeletons standing as grim reminders of Zhars wrath. The wrath, that becomes somewhat familiar to him after yet another photo.

“Nikto… That bloody merc was claiming to be incorruptible. Did you pay him, blow him? How did you convince that bastard to make a full theater play for me? Fucking beautiful…”

“You think, Nikto was your weak link?” Olga methodically flips through the photographs, each depicting the ruins of familial havens. “Nikto was your best man, Sedmi: he never betrayed you - he was assigned to scare me and Nikolai, and he did just that. I only helped him a little. But enough about him - it's Ada and Luka, we are looking for, right? So many places, they were not at.”

She picks a photo from a folder and the corners of her lips jump up for a brief moment. 

“Now this place is special. A modest one, a secluded fortress. Your mother's house,” her whisper cuts through the silence like a blade.

Sedmis heart plummets, the chill of despair seeping into every fiber of his being. He could watch Zhar taking the keys to his kingdom, his men, his property - but not the fates of those he holds dearest.

“You fucking insect.” A spasm runs through Sedmis body making him shiver. “Sitting here, jerking off at your mightiness, after you killed a defenseless boy and wom-”

“I never said, they were dead.” Zhar rises on her elbows above the desk. “What, you think, I`m making this show just to tell you, I killed your beloved ones? No Sedmi, my dear seventh friend. I have other plans. Want to know, what are they?”

He nods, and Olga continues leaning forward to him.

“You will live a long life. And I will teach you, how to do it. You see, I know, who has a grudge against me. A year ago I orchestrated an operation with one particular fixer. We closed a jar with spiders, shook it well enough, and you guys started ripping each other's heads off. There is a reason why they call you Sedmi or ‘the seventh one’. You are part of them: a union, a cartel, a friend club - I couldn't care less, how you call it. But I know, there are many of you there: ‘the first’, ‘the second’, ‘the god knows which’ one... Many spiders not happy with a jar, I and Nikolai closed a year ago.”

She pauses, looks Sedmi in the eyes and touches his face.

“You will walk out of this military base on your two. It won't be easy, but eventually you will figure, how to set yourself free. Your army will be nonexistent anymore. You won't try to contact your bodyguards, because their bodies are lying on the ground at the crashsite of Nikolais helicopter. You will spend some time searching for Ada and Luka and find them at some point. You may as well give this back to your son…”

Zhar pushes the inhaler closer to Sedmi.

“You will find new ways to fund your life, purchase new place to live in, take your kid to school, make sure, your mom is back to normal after all the stress, she had to live through, take care of Ada…”

A faint smile blooms on her lips. 

“But whatever you do - I want you to do it with one thought behind everything. When you hire new soldiers - I will know each name. When you buy a new house - I will have all the information on the deal even before you.”

Zhars whisper sounds right above his ear.

“I will know, your sons teachers names, I will choose the doctors, monitoring your mother, I will hear what your wife talks about with her friends on their kitchens while you're not around. I will see and hear and know everything, there is about your new little life. And from now on if any member of your group, I troubled a year ago, plots anything against the Chimera - it is your problem, Sedmi. If I even think, that something starts boiling up - it is your headache. And if I am not happy with your performance - I won't kill you, don't worry. You will live long enough to see your beloved ones agonies. Every last one of them, begging for a quicker death.”

Sedmi feels the masked mans grip tightening on the back of his neck once again, as Olga stops in mere inches from his face. The table creaks as she leans back, her hands never leaving the desk, as if she would fall as soon as she stops holding on to it.

“If you were waiting for a good time to say, that you got me right - this is your moment to shine.” She looks at him, not blinking, not even breathing, it seems. 

Sedmi looks around, but his gaze can't concentrate on anything: the walls are blank, sterile, the lonely lamp above them stopped swaying a while ago. It feels as if everything around him, including Olga, is dead: empty shells pretending to be rooms, furniture and people. 

And she, this half-burnt piece of meat is the very heart of this stillness. Sedmi doesn't fight the sudden urge to make her at least a bit more alive, and spits into her face. 

Immediately, his face is being slammed against the desk - the masked one doesn't say a word, but he knows well enough, what he's doing. Pain pierces through Sedmis head like red-hot needles, and the world goes dark for a moment. Once he manages to rise his head once again - Sedmi notices, that photos of his destroyed houses are now painted red. He watches his saliva slowly flowing down Olgas jawline.

Zhar asks him again, if they are clear and this time her captive is more cooperative.

“C-crysh- Crystal clear.” It hurts even to speak, after the masked one turned his mouth into a bloody mess.

Sedmi gathers all his strength, and before Olga and the masked man leave the room, he speaks again.

“Hey Phantom-boy… You think, you're the hero, saved the day, punished some criminal piece of shit?” Zhar and the masked one freeze on their way to the exit.

“Of course you do. Think, I'm a waste, bloody trash. Well, it takes one to know one. So if you're thinking, you chose the right ally - look at her once again. That bitch, you're serving so well, is not a human anymore. Shes not even a creature - this one is a mold. Stops at nothing, eats up anyone, when it gets hungry. Today she's on my walls, but who knows where you find her tomorrow. So before you put on your ‘good boy’ collar this evening - think of your family in her hands.”

An unsettling silence permeate the room, broken only by the distant echoes of indistinct sounds. Olga holds up an open palm in a wordless request, and her colleague takes his knife out of the holster and gives it to her.

“Make sure, we don't get interrupted,” commands Zhar and the masked one leaves her alone with Sedmi.

Iskorka, spasibo, moya zolotaya.* - Sparky (Iskra is Spark in russian), thank you, my golden one

[the-greatest-choice-developer]

[System Notification]

Your choice has been registered:

Lloyd - Stabilize your emotions and use your connection to the mana.

[System Notification]

-Scene 1: The Explosion-

-Part 8-

The village lay in disarray. Broken beams jutted out from half-collapsed buildings, dust filled the air, and faint cracks marred the cobblestone streets. Villagers milled about, some dazed and stumbling, others hunched over in pain. The aftermath of Lloyd’s magical outburst left a scene of surreal devastation. The ground around him was scarred and upheaved, with plants having grown wildly and fruits ripened into shimmering golden dust. The earth was a chaotic mix of tangled roots and torn-up soil, the once orderly village now resembling a fantastical battleground. Lloyd surveyed the scene with a growing sense of dread. 

This is my fault, he thought, gritting his teeth. He could feel it deep in his bones—an unsettling, electric hum of magic lingering from the blast. I need to fix this.

Lloyd clenched his fists, feeling the raw energy coursing through Javier's body. It was strange—everything felt different. His senses were sharper, attuned to something beyond the physical. He could sense the currents of mana weaving through the air.

He couldn’t afford to analyze the situation now. While the people here seemed relatively unharmed, there were likely others still in danger, and the buildings were on the verge of collapse. Without pausing to think it through, Lloyd inhaled sharply and reached out to the swirling magic around him.

The sensation was immediate. Mana surged under his skin, a prickling heat that built rapidly. Lloyd's hands trembled as he struggled to rein in the wild energy. For a split second, it felt like the power was slipping through his fingers, ready to cause even more damage.

His vision blurred and he winced as a spark flew, striking a nearby pile of debris, sending it tumbling.

Focus, damn it!

Lloyd forced himself to concentrate. He had never experienced power like this before, and yet he felt an instinctual pull toward it. Slowly, he gathered the mana, drawing it in closer. It resisted and surged unpredictably, but he held firm.

He set his sights on the nearest crumbling structure—a house whose roof was sagging dangerously. He thrust his hand toward it, willing the magic to stabilize the damage. The stones of the building wobbled, threatening to collapse further, but then slowly—painfully slowly—they began to realign.

Brick by brick, the walls started to mend, each piece finding its place like a puzzle. The air around him crackled with the pressure of the magic, but Lloyd’s focus remained locked.

A moment of triumph welled up inside him as the building steadied, no longer teetering on the brink of ruin. He glanced around quickly—other villagers were staring, a mix of awe and confusion on their faces as they watched the once-unstable house repair itself under his command.

But just as Lloyd allowed himself a breath of relief, a sudden surge of energy flared from within him. Without warning, the chaotic magic lashed out. A nearby window exploded outward, glass shattering with a deafening pop. The sharp pieces scattered through the air.

Before Lloyd could fully register what was happening, Javier sprang into action. Despite still being in Lloyd’s body, his mind’s reflexes—honed by years of training—kicked in immediately. With a speed that surprised even Lloyd, Javier rushed forward, his hand outstretched. A sharp gust of wind whipped through the air.

The gust caught the shards mid-flight, halting them just inches away from the nearest villagers. With a flick of his wrist, the shards dropped harmlessly to the ground, far from the startled crowd.

Lloyd's heart was still racing from the surge of energy, and he blinked in surprise. "That was… fast," he muttered under his breath, his tension easing as the immediate danger passed.

Javier turned toward him, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes. "You need to keep a tighter grip on yourself. If you lose control again, people could get hurt."

Lloyd bit back a retort, knowing Javier was right. Even in his borrowed body, Javier’s instincts were as sharp as ever. It was a sobering reminder that while Lloyd had the power, Javier had the skills.

The village was still. The immediate danger had passed, but the lingering tension in the air was thick. The magic had obeyed him, but only barely. He exhaled deeply, his chest heaving from the exertion.

His hand fell to his side, but his pulse continued to race. The village was no longer on the brink of collapse, but the wild power within him simmered.

He could see the villagers begin to gather—some were approaching cautiously, eyes wide with shock and gratitude. Others seemed too rattled to speak, but their relief was palpable. Still, Lloyd felt far from confident.

I did it. I helped. But what if I hadn’t?

He glanced down at Javier’s hands—at his hands now, for the time being. The magic he’d unleashed was powerful, too powerful. He knew instinctively that he hadn’t mastered it yet, that if something tipped the scales even slightly, everything could unravel. The body-swap had complicated everything too.

The villagers’ murmurs grew louder as they started asking questions, seeking guidance. Lloyd cleared his throat and raised his voice, trying to sound authoritative despite his inner turmoil.

"Everyone, please listen," Lloyd began, his voice steady despite the chaos. "We need to get to safety first. I assure you, we'll get you to a safe location. We will find the baron and baroness and we will assess the situation together."

As he spoke, Lloyd noticed a shift in the crowd. The villagers’ expressions flickered with concern as they looked toward the young lord who was standing to the side. There was an undercurrent of unease as they worried that he might take offense to the knight speaking in his stead.

Seeing their apprehension, Javier, in Lloyd’s body, gave them a reassuring smile and a gentle nod. He raised a hand in a calming gesture, hoping to convey that there was no ill will or confusion between them.

The villagers seemed to relax slightly at the gesture, their concern easing. They began to move, guided by the guards who had appeared to help manage the situation.

Lloyd watched them go, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. Once the villagers were on their way to safety, he turned to Javier, who had taken up a position nearby, ready to assist.

"We need to meet with the baron and baroness as soon as possible," Lloyd said, his voice firm. "We have to assess the damage, make sure everyone is accounted for, and figure out how to get control of this power."

Javier nodded, "Agreed. Let’s get to work."

With that, Lloyd and Javier set off, determined to tackle the crisis and set things right. The village was still reeling from the magical upheaval, but they had a plan. The real work was just beginning.

[hiphopncountrychick]

🎤🌟 Once Upon a Beat: The Birth and Tale of Hip Hop! 🎶📜

Gather 'round, music lovers and history enthusiasts! Let me take you back to the gritty streets of the Bronx, where a musical revolution was about to be born. 🏙️🎧

In a world colored by disco balls and rock anthems, a new rhythm began to stir. It was the late 1970s, and amidst the concrete and chaos, something magical was brewing. Picture a neighborhood pulsating with energy, where creativity and resilience ran through the veins of its people.

Enter the pioneers: DJs spinning vinyl records, searching for the grooviest beats; MCs, or "masters of ceremonies," stepping up to the mic with tales from the corners of their lives; B-boys and B-girls, turning empty lots into dance battlegrounds, showcasing moves that defied gravity. This was the birth of Hip Hop.

The turntables spun stories, the lyrics wove narratives, and the dance moves spoke a language of their own. It wasn't just music; it was a voice for the unheard, a spotlight for the marginalized, and a celebration of the struggles and triumphs that shaped a generation.

From those humble beginnings, Hip Hop exploded like fireworks on the 4th of July. It spread from block parties to boomboxes, from borough to borough, touching hearts and inspiring minds. The movement was unstoppable, giving birth to legends like Grandmaster Flash, Afrika Bambaataa, and Run-D.M.C., whose words and beats resonated far beyond the concrete jungle.

But Hip Hop didn't stop there. It evolved, adapted, and embraced new influences. It wasn't confined by geography or language; it was a universal language in itself. From the golden age of the '80s to the fusion of the '90s and the innovation of the 2000s, Hip Hop kept rewriting its own story.

Today, it's more than a genre; it's a cultural force that shapes fashion, art, and social change. It's a reminder that from adversity comes creativity, from struggle comes strength, and from beats comes unity.

So next time you nod your head to a catchy rap verse or find yourself moving to a groovy beat, remember the journey that brought us here. Hip Hop is a story of empowerment, expression, and evolution, and it's a story we're all part of. 🎵📖

[arissaamr]

Week 1: Oops! The Hilarious Misadventures of Me: Laughing My Way

Hey there, fellow food lovers 🌟!! Have you ever felt like a culinary genius until your pancake becomes a science experiment? Buckle up because I'm about to share my laugh-out-loud journey into pancake making! With a recipe in one hand and a whisk in the other, I believed I was destined for breakfast glory. Little did I know, the kitchen had other plans!

Last week, I embarked on the noble quest of making pancakes. Armed with a recipe I found online—with tempting photos of fluffy, golden stacks—I felt like a culinary wizard ready to summon deliciousness from thin air.

I gathered my ingredients: flour, eggs, milk, and a pinch of what I hoped was magic (but let's be honest, it was just salt). As I began, my kitchen quickly transformed into a chaotic battleground. Flour dust coated everything like a winter snowstorm, and I was losing the battle against a rogue egg that decided to roll off the counter, performing a dramatic escape into the depths of the floor.

As I mixed the batter, the aroma of flour mingled with the creamy scent of milk, filling the air with a promise of deliciousness. I envisioned impressing my friends with my "world-famous" pancakes. "Fluffy as clouds, golden as the sun," I imagined them saying, their taste buds singing praises. Instead, my batter looked like a lumpy science experiment gone horribly wrong. Still, I pressed on with the confidence of a chef on a cooking show.

When I finally heated the skillet, I poured in the first scoop of batter. Instead of a beautiful pancake, it spread like a pancake rebellion, trying to escape its fate. It resembled a map of an alien planet rather than a breakfast item. "No worries," I reassured myself, "the next one will be better!"

As I flipped the pancake, I realized I may have underestimated the power of gravity—or perhaps my flipping skills were on par with a toddler's. The pancake soared through the air with all the grace of a clumsy bird, landing splat! —right on the floor. I stood there, staring at the sad pancake, then laughed. "Well, at least the floor is getting a taste!"

Not to be defeated, I tried again. This time, I adjusted my technique and focused all my energy on the pancake. I poured the batter carefully, and as it bubbled away, I felt hope rising like my breakfast creation. The scent of cooking batter began to waft through the kitchen, a warm, buttery promise of what would come. "This will be it!" I thought, excitement bubbling inside me.

But just as I was about to flip it again, I heard a strange noise—a kind of ominous hissing. I spun around, half-expecting a dramatic reveal from a hidden reality TV crew. Instead, it was just my toaster, popping up my bagel like a contestant on a cooking show ready to impress. I laughed nervously, thinking, "Even my appliances are trying to sabotage my pancake dreams!"

Finally, after an eternity of flipping, dropping, and scraping batter off the floor, I produced a respectable stack of pancakes. They were lopsided and slightly charred on one side, but they were mine! Proudly, I drizzled syrup over them, the sweet, sticky liquid glistening like treasure atop my culinary creation.

As I took my first bite, I was met with a surprising blend of flavors: the pancake's buttery warmth contrasted with the syrup's rich sweetness, creating a delightful explosion of breakfast joy. Sure, they weren't the fluffy clouds I envisioned, but they had character—much like my pancake-making journey. With a sprinkle of humor and perseverance, I savored my culinary creation, giggling at the chaotic adventure unfolding.

So, what's the moral of my pancake story? Life may not always serve perfect pancakes, but if you can laugh through the little disasters, you'll have a tasty (if slightly wonky) breakfast and a story to share!

As I savoured that slightly wonky pancake, I realized that cooking, like life, is about the journey, not just the final product. Every flop is just a funny story waiting to happen. Next time, I might invite friends for a "Pancake Fiasco Night"—where the mess is half the fun and the laughter is guaranteed!

[z2z-gaming-and-random-art-ai]

Console Fighting Games of 2003 - Magic The Gathering Battlegrounds

Magic The Gathering Battlegrounds is the eighth video game adaption of the collectable card game. In this adaption, Magic The Gathering Battlegrounds is a real time strategy fighting game where players use Magic the Gathering cards to fight each other with creatures, sorcery and enchantment cards. 

Developed by Secret Level and published by Atari, Magic The Gathering Battlegrounds was released on Windows and Xbox in 2003, the latter releasing in the US, Europe and Oceania, with a Japanese release in 2004. 

1. Intro 00:00 

2. Gameplay 00:15 

3. Outro 07:47

Twitter (Gaming & AI Art)

https://twitter.com/zero2zedGaming

Instagram (AI Art)

https://www.instagram.com/random_art_ai/

For more fighting game videos check out the playlists below

Console Fighting Games of 1993

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CFcKSo9Eglrv2NFDHAqNDRi

Console Fighting Games of 1994

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF-R5w4NujQcYo8cCcOMHYv

Console Fighting Games of 1995

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEUiZn8FlwHoMcwoOzUqchX

Console Fighting Games of 1996

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF0j9K_v7UqS3dxjwh6XIIM

Console Fighting Games of 1997

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CFm1r27Q5PvbO_4CjYYsj4-

Console Fighting Games of 1998

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CHG7kROLoO-HAXmmzib8cd4

Console Fighting Games of 1999

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CH1CPUcsBRyu5VpFnhqj4Kv

Console Fighting Games of 2000

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CFeqy-o99iichpNC_2TAs2w

Console Fighting Games of 2001

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CEZIx8SjucuQMt0zBP_wzwS

Console Fighting Games of 2002

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CH1zIfh7MMdVHyj51B2gaVa

Console Fighting Games of 2003

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLFJOZYl1h1CF33jf5s-Q-jR1sYOSKaikn

[thatartiststudios]

Fic update #???

As the Argo II glided over the ancient city of Rome, the team gathered on deck to plan their approach to The Colosseum.

Leo, his hands flying across the controls, looked up at Jason and Callum, “Hey, guys, how about we get a bird’s-eye view first? Callum, you’ve got those mage wings, right? And Jason, your flying skills are top-notch. Scout out The Colosseum from above, see if there’s anything unusual before you all head down.”

Jason nodded, “Sounds like a plan. What do you think, Callum?”

Callum considered for a moment before replying, “It might give us a strategic advantage and help us prepare for what lies ahead. Let’s do it.”

Before Callum summoned his mage wings, Rayla offered a cautious plea, “Be safe, you two.”

Assuring her with a smile, Callum replied, “We’ll be fine, A mhuirnín. We’ll be back before you know it.” He planted a quick kiss on her cheek before invoking his mage wings with a confident incantation, “Manus, Pluma, Volantus!” and soaring down to the Colosseum alongside Jason.

Observing this, Piper remarked, “I don’t recognize that language.”

Rayla chuckled, blushing slightly, “It’s Moonshadow Elf dialect; it means ‘darling.’”

Sadie couldn’t help but smile. “Smooth one you got there.”

Rayla responded with a confident grin, “Oh, I know.”

True to his promise, Callum and Jason returned, their expressions a mix of caution and concern. The team gathered around them, eager to hear their assessment.

“It’s just like before,” Callum shared, his voice carrying an undertone of unease. He exchanged a glance with Rayla, who held his hand in silent support. “Eerily quiet and vacant. We didn’t see anyone or anything unusual, but it feels off.”

Piper frowned, concern etched on her face. “Off how? Like Luxor off?”

Jason chimed in, “Yeah, similar. It’s like the atmosphere itself is holding its breath, waiting for something. I couldn’t sense any imminent danger, but it’s unsettling.”

Carter, now back in human form, shared a look with Sadie. “Well, we better be ready for anything. Luxor was just the beginning, and I doubt Rome will be any different.”

Rayla nodded, her eyes flickering with determination. “Let’s stick together and stay sharp. We’ve got each other’s backs.”

The group prepared to descend into the Colosseum, each hero taking their designated role. Carter and Sadie transformed into birds, wings spread wide. Rayla clasped onto Callum, his crimson mage wings formed. Jason readied himself to carry Piper.

Leo offered a final word of encouragement, “Good luck, guys. Bring back some cool Roman souvenirs or something!” With a mix of determination and caution, they all took flight, descending toward the entrance of the Colosseum.

As they landed at the walkway leading to the entrance, a hushed stillness enveloped the Colosseum, the absence of statues standing out immediately. Jason scanned the area, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s like a ghost town. See what we meant?”

Sadie, having cast a brief magical scan, nodded in agreement. “This is bizarre. I expected some resistance.”

Piper chimed in, looking around with a puzzled expression. “No welcoming committee, huh? Not even a single ghostly apparition?”

Rayla, her hand firmly in Callum’s, couldn’t shake off the feeling of unease. “It’s too quiet, and that usually means trouble.”

Callum, sensing the shared apprehension, added, “Let’s stay alert. There’s something off about this place.”

With a collective nod, they cautiously proceeded through the ruined walls, the echoes of their footsteps resonating in the eerily deserted Colosseum.

They ventured inside through the ruined walls, discovering a newly refurbished floor covering the once-battleground tunnels.

Carter observed the changes, remarking, “ I heard they recently rebuilt a platform here. Strange timing for renovations.”

The team moved forward, perplexed by the absence of any hostile encounters. Callum furrowed his brow, contemplating the unsettling silence. “Should I cast the moon spell?” he pondered aloud, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, wondering if the illusionary magic might unveil hidden threats.

Callum drew up the rune for the spell and uttered, “Historia Viventum!” A serene blue aura enveloped the Colosseum, momentarily giving an illusion of calm. However, just like before, the tranquility twisted into an unsettling red hue, casting a haunting atmosphere over the ancient structure.

The corrupted specters materialized around them, their ghostly forms haunting the Colosseum. Among them, Roman gladiators and demigods from the war against the Giants emerged. One figure, Michael Varus, stood out to Jason, igniting memories of betrayal and a stabbing that left a lasting scar.

Jason clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at the spectral manifestation of his past.

“Michael Varus,” he muttered, his voice tight with suppressed anger. Piper’s tension mirrored Jason’s, the memories of healing him after the attack flooding back.

Callum, sensing the rising tension, spoke up, “These illusions are powerful, but we can overcome them together. Focus on the fact that they’re not real.”

Carter summoned his staff, determination in his eyes. “Let’s deal with these illusions and proceed. We can’t let them control us.”

Rayla, her grip tightening on Callum’s hand, nodded. “Together, we face them and move forward.”

Their spectral assailants lunged forward, their ghostly forms carrying an eerie determination. Callum summoned his combat magic, creating barriers to protect his allies. Rayla gracefully danced through the illusionary attacks, her dual blades slashing with precision.

The battle unfolded, each hero confronted their own illusions, memories intertwining with the present. The Colosseum, once a silent witness to countless battles, now echoed with the clash of spectral foes and the determined voices of those who refused to be controlled by their past.

As the spectral figures closed in, Piper and Jason found themselves facing echoes of their personal struggles. Jason confronted the ghostly apparition of Michael Varus, who sneered, “You couldn’t protect your friends, Grace.” The words stung, but Jason steadied himself, summoning the power of the winds to push back the illusion.

Piper, on the other hand, faced a haunting manifestation of the moment she healed Jason after the attack. The specter echoed her doubts, “You couldn’t save him, McLean. You’re not strong enough.” Piper gritted her teeth, drawing strength from the memories of their shared victories.

Carter and Sadie, side by side, unleashed magical attacks on the corrupted specters. The air crackled with energy as the siblings coordinated their efforts, a seamless fusion of magic and combat.

Jason summoned the winds, creating gusts that disrupted the ghostly illusions. Piper’s charmspeak echoed, disorienting the specters and momentarily weakening their attacks. She focused on the memory of healing Jason after the stabbing, channeling her strength into overcoming the haunting images.

As the battle raged on, the Colosseum echoed with the clash of illusions and the resilient determination of the heroes. Callum, focused on dispelling the illusions, cast a purification spell, “Relinquere Illusio!”

The Moon Magic combating the corrupted red aura. The Colosseum began to shift back to its natural state, the illusions dissipating like shadows in the morning light.

Breathing heavily, the heroes regrouped, their faces reflecting a mix of exhaustion and triumph. Callum looked at his companions, “We faced your past head-on and prevailed. This trial is about overcoming illusions, and we did just that.”

Rayla smiled, leaning against Callum, “I guess our experiences in Luxor prepared us for this.”

Piper nodded, “Let’s continue exploring, now that we know what we’re up against.”

But before they could discover anything more about the eerie battlefield, a low hum resonated through the Colosseum. The heroes turned their attention to the center, where a pedestal slowly rose.

The heroes stood in awe as the pedestal ascended, revealing the second key. It hovered in mid-air, radiating a warm copper glow that contrasted with the eerie atmosphere of the Colosseum. Callum, ever curious about magical artifacts, couldn’t help but express his amazement.

Callum marveled, “Well, that’s something you don’t see every day. A floating pedestal with a key on top. Magical, and yet oddly unsettling.”

Rayla teased, “I thought you loved magical oddities, Callum.”

He chuckled, “True, but it’s the unsettling part that keeps me on my toes.”

Jason stepped forward to examine the inscriptions on the second key. “Let me see if I can decipher this one.” He squinted at the Latin text, mumbling the words to himself before finally revealing, “Key of Greco-Rome, Kingdom of Many Gods, Allow safe passage through The Ways.”

Piper pondered, “Greco-Rome? Many Gods? What could that mean?”

Sadie, intrigued, added, “And ‘The Ways’—it’s the same as the last key.”

Carter joined the conversation. “Greco-Rome was the term for combining the two ancient civilizations, maybe it’s because you’re a son of Jupiter and Piper is a daughter of Aphrodite. Roman and Greek.”

Callum, absorbing the information, interjected, “So, these keys seem to be tailored to our backgrounds or powers somehow?”

Rayla nodded, a frown crossing her face. “It’s like they’re tapping into our specific connections.”

Jason, still focused on the key, added, “But what does ‘Kingdom of Many Gods’ imply? Is it referring to the Pantheon?”

Piper, considering the possibilities, said, “Maybe it’s not just about our parentage. It could involve the broader spectrum of gods from different mythologies.”

Sadie, intrigued, mused, “If that’s the case, the keys might represent a unity of various divine influences.”

Carter, with a hint of skepticism, pointed out, “Regardless, we have two keys now, and we need to figure out what The Collector wants with them.”

With a collective nod, they decided to head back to the Argo II. The journey back to the ship was filled with speculation about the keys, their purpose, and the enigmatic Collector.

Once on board, Leo greeted them with a quizzical look, “Did you find anything interesting?”

Piper exchanged glances with the others before explaining, “We found a second key. This one seems to be linked to Greco-Roman mythology.”

Leo raised an eyebrow, “Greco-Roman, huh? That’s a twist. What’s the plan now?”

Carter took charge, “We need to gather more information, understand these keys, and figure out The Collector’s game.”

Sadie added, “And we still don’t know what’s next. We need to be prepared for anything.”

Callum, deep in thought, concluded, “Let’s regroup and plan our next move. Whatever The Collector has in store, we’ll face it together.”

That's the last bit of Chapter 6, only 8 chapters left!

[explainlearning]

College Study Group Magic: Transforming Learning Together

A whirlwind of lectures, deadlines, and late-night pizza runs. A time of self-discovery, independence, and perhaps, a touch of academic anxiety. Navigating the intellectual demands of higher education can feel like climbing Mount Everest in flip-flops – daunting, exhilarating, and occasionally perilous. But fear not, intrepid climbers! A powerful weapon lies hidden in your arsenal: the college study group.

Yes, those seemingly mundane gatherings around dusty tables in the library hold the potential to transform your learning experience. Not convinced? Let’s unlock the magic hidden within a best college study group:

Synergy, Not Just Study Buddies: A good study group transcends the exchange of flashcards and caffeine. It’s a symphony of different perspectives brought together by a shared goal. The analytical chemistry whiz demystifies complex formulas for the artistic soul, while the literature lover unlocks the emotional depths of a poem for the numbers cruncher. In this tapestry of diverse strengths, understanding blossoms where individual efforts might falter.

Understanding, Not Just Memorization: College crams our brains with facts, figures, and theories. But a study group in college doesn’t just test those facts – it challenges us to grasp their deeper meaning. By bouncing ideas off each other, questioning assumptions, and explaining concepts in our own words, we weave those facts into a tapestry of holistic understanding.

Confidence, Not Just Comparison: The competitive environment of college can breed self-doubt and anxiety. But within a class study group, comparing notes doesn’t fuel insecurity, it builds confidence. Sharing struggles and triumphs fosters empathy and understanding. Seeing peers grapple with the same challenges normalizes the struggles and reminds you that you’re not alone on this intellectual journey.

Motivation, Not Just Mountain Dew: Let’s face it, staying motivated when facing a looming exam can be as easy as scaling K2 blindfolded. But a study group in college is a potent antidote to procrastination. Shared accountability keeps everyone on track, and the collective enthusiasm becomes contagious, fueling the drive to conquer challenging concepts.

So, how do you conjure this academic alchemy? Here are some tips for brewing a best college study group:

Find your tribe: Seek out classmates who share your academic interests and learning styles. Diversity is valuable, but a shared foundation ensures productive discussions.

Set ground rules: Establish clear goals, meeting times, and expectations for participation. This ensures everyone contributes and gets the most out of the sessions.

Embrace active learning: Move beyond passive note-taking. Engage in discussions, whiteboard diagrams, and collaborative problem-solving. Make learning an interactive experience.

Celebrate success: Recognizing each other’s achievements fosters positivity and reinforces the value of working together. A shared victory tastes sweeter than a solo one.

Remember, the magic of a study group lies not in chance, but in the synergy of dedicated individuals. So, gather your academic allies, choose your intellectual battleground, and unlock the transformative power of learning together. With a little collaboration and a lot of shared enthusiasm, you might just scale that academic Everest in sturdy boots and a smile.

Content Source https://explainlearning.com/blog/college-study-group-magic-transforming-learning-together/

[fantomcomics]

What's Out This Week? 10/25

Just a few days left til our Halloween Party! You coming??

Blitmap #1 (of 6) - Jack Timmer & Matias Basla

A THRILLING NEW SCI-FI SERIES SET IN A BREATHTAKING SOLARPUNK METROPOLIS! SET IN THE DIGITAL WORLD OF BLITMAP!

EACH BLIND BAGGED ISSUE COMES WITH A UNIQUE COVER VARIANT BASED ON THREE DIFFERENT DESIGNS!

Under the shadow of an ancient cataclysm, Blitnauts and Logos factions battle for power, while The Static's elusive realm entraps and corrupts all who submit to its mystifying call.

Captain Marvel #1 - Alyssa Wong, Jan Bazaldua & Stephen Segovia

HIGHEST, FURTHEST, FASTEST!

The Captain gets a permanent glow-up designed by superstar artist Jen Bartel! And that's not all that's changed. Brand-new look - brand-new creative team - and a brand-new status quo. Carol Danvers is one of the powerhouses of the Marvel Universe, a woman capable of harnessing the energy of the sun. So if you're coming for Earth? She's the first one you take off the board. Someone's figured just how to do just that. Introducing a new supporting cast and villains both beloved and dangerously fresh, Alyssa Wong and Jan Bazaldua's exhilarating series kicks off here!

Dark Spaces: Dungeon #1 - Scott Snyder & Hayden Sherman

Scott Snyder and Hayden Sherman reunite for the next installment in the critically acclaimed DarkSpaces anthology series. A family moves from the rustle and bustle of the Big Apple to upstate New York. However, their father's dream of a quiet rural life are shattered when he discovers a dungeon underneath their land filled with torture devices, weapons, and a threatening message on the wall that reads, "TELL NO ONE."Paranoia sets in rapidly as the father realizes anyone in his new hometown could be the dungeon master. Whom can he trust? And how will he keep this secret from his family while keeping them safe?

Universal Monsters: Dracula #1 (of 4) - James Tynion IV & Martin Simmonds

THE BIGGEST NAMES IN COMICS RESURRECT THE MOST ICONIC MONSTERS!

THE DEPARTMENT OF TRUTH creators JAMES TYNION IV (W0RLDTR33, Something is Killing the Children) and MARTIN SIMMONDS reteam to tell a new tale of the monster who started it all!

When Dr. John Seward admits a strange new patient into his asylum, the madman tells stories of a demon who has taken residence next door. But as Dr. Seward attempts to apply logic to the impossible...his surrogate daughter Lucy begins to fall under the spell of the twisted Count Dracula!

Drive Like Hell #1 - Rich Douek & Alex Cormack

Bobby Ray had it made. One last big job, then it was splitsville, set for life with his girl by his side! Then everything went wrong, and poor Dahlia took a bullet to the brain as they made their escape. Thing is, dear Dahlia didn't stay dead. Now Bobby's found himself plunged into a battle of otherworldly proportions, and if he wants to get out of dodge with his skin intact, he's gonna have to Drive Like Hell!

Edenwood #1 (of 5) - Tony S. Daniel

An eons-long series of multiverse wars between demons and witches has found Earth as its latest and final battleground. The battle pits NECRONEMA, the ever-expanding demonic land that supplanted the Midwest twenty years ago, against EDENWOOD, the witchcraft-controlled land that acts as a barrier against the war zone and the rest of the U.S.RION, a young DEMON HUNTER, is thrust into the role of hero and leader after defeating a magical demon called a GATHER, a transient demon with the power to cross any barrier or dimension.

Summoned by the WITCH WAR COUNCIL, Rion must assemble an elite team of DEMON HUNTERS tasked with annihilating a list of targets within the demon-controlled lands. The men and women he selects happen to be the most famous and revered demon hunters of all time, dating back to the 1700s.

Gone #1 - Jock

NEW SERIES DEBUT from DSTRLY by JOCK - writing and drawing a creator-owned project for the FIRST TIME!

On an impoverished and distant planet, where menial workers scratch out a living resupplying starships, the best place to be is GONE...and that's exactly where 13-year-old ABI wants to be.

Along with her street-tough friends, Abi stows away on a colossal luxury space-liner for a chance at a better life. Unbeknownst to her, some of her "friends'' are not who they seem. Abi suddenly finds herself branded a saboteur as she desperately struggles to evade the ship's deadly crew and to stay alive!

Beautifully written and drawn by JOCK - Eisner Award winning artist of SNOW ANGELS & BATMAN: ONE DARK KNIGHT - GONE is in an action-packed sci-fi adventure where a young heroine confronts betrayal, discovers her true allies, and fights against all odds discovering that nothing is farther away than...home.  

Alan Scott: Green Lantern #1 (of 6) - Tim Sheridan & Cian Tormey

A POWERFUL TALE OF ALAN SCOTT'S EARLY DAYS AS GREEN LANTERN! Alan Scott's early days as the Green Lantern are seen in a new light! The Green Lantern is the most powerful member of the JSA, beloved by all of America, but his personal life is a well-kept secret. This is a story about love, about fear, and most of all about courage to stand up to that fear. Alan Scott's past is the key to his future when the Red Lantern appears, ready to strike down the mighty Green Lantern!

Giant Robot Hellboy #1 (of 4) - Mike Mignola & Duncan Fegredo

Hellboy is kidnapped and hooked up to a massive mecha-Hellboy for a mission on a mysterious, faraway island, but the island might just put up a fight of its own. Inspired by Mignola's viral-hit pencil drawings from Mike Mignola: The Quarantine Sketchbook, GiantRobotHellboy gets his own story in this 3-part miniseries from Mignola and longtime Hellboy artist Duncan Fegredo!

Marvel Zombies: Black, White & Blood #1 - Garth Ennis, Rachael Stott, & Gabriele Dell Otto

The undead plague starts here...and you know it won't stop until everyone's in its clutches! This first of four action-packed, utterly original, gloriously gory anthology issues features Daredevil, Spider-Man, Moon Knight and many, many more Marvel heroes and villains beset by ever-growing zombie hordes! In a brutal, bloodstained world, can hope survive? Or will creeping, gnawing, shambling horror win out at last...?

The Prism #1 - Matteo De Longis (A/CA) Matteo De Longis

Noise pollution is crushing life on earth. The largest mega-corporation on the planet finances a crazy project called The P.R.I.S.M. (Purifying Recording Interplanetary Space Mission) to combat the phenomenon: sending a musical supergroup into space to record an album that will produce sounds able to push back the threat known as S.O.T.W. (Smoke on the Water) and save the planet. Where rock'n'roll excess and the survival of all life on Earth collide, there is...THE PRISM!  

Slow Burn #1 (of 5) - Ollie Masters, Pierluigi Minotti & Paul Azaceta

Fleeing a botched robbery in New York City, a junkie, her dying partner, and a dementia-ridden old man pull into a coal mining ghost town in central Pennsylvania.

Obscured by the caustic mists spewed forth by the coal-seam fire from the 1960s-still burning-Trier is the perfect place to lay low, score a fix, and take a hostage... or is it?

Hallows' Eve: The Big Night #1 - Erica Schultz, Michael Dowling & Ben Harvey

It's October 31st at E.S.U. so you know what that means: A Halloween party won't go as planned and a bunch of powerless kids will be in a lot of trouble! Hallows' Eve was once powerless and was once a victim. Now she's anything but. Her magical masks give her the ability to help - but Eve isn't a hero, is she?

Amazons Attack #1 - Josie Campbell & Vasco Georgiev

AMAZON WARRIORS FIGHT FOR A WORLD THAT'S MADE THEM OUTLAWS! After the shocking events in Wonder Woman, the Amazons are now fighting for a world that no longer wants them! Led by their fearless Queen Nubia, a ragtag group of Amazons featuring Wonder Girl and Faruka II frantically searches for answers as their existence and way of life are threatened. Will the tribes survive their new reputation? Find out in this roller coaster of a debut issue!

The First Night With The Duke GN Vol 1 - Hwang DoTol Teava & Msg

One morning, a girl wakes up and discovers she'd been transported into a romance novel as Lady Ripley, a count's daughter, and a minor character. She decides to kick back and enjoy a life of luxury in the novel's background to the fullest! But then she goes to a party and makes a huge mistake. The last thing she remembers is when she started drinking... And when she came to her senses, she was in bed with the stone-hearted main character, Duke Zeronis d'Inglid!

Full Metal Alchemist 20th Anniversary Book HC - Hiromu Arakawa

This memorial hardcover collection celebrates the legacy of one of the most beloved manga series of all time. Contains a complete collection of all the short manga from the series' run, from game tie-ins to never-before-seen tales in rare Japanese guides, plus a bonus new prose story. Also includes extensive commemorative messages from novel, film, video game, and anime staff, including the full voice cast of the Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood anime. And of course, don't miss the thoughtful and goofy commentary on the reach and impact of Fullmetal Alchemist from artist Hiromu Arakawa!

Harrower TP - Justin Jordan & Brahm Revel

There's nothing to fear in the quaint town of Barlowe, New York-except, that is, for the Harrower.

The children think this boogeyman is just an urban legend, but this purveyor of puritanical vengeance is very real, and there's no escape. The Harrower seems unkillable, and spans generations, always returning...

Jessica Brink is a teenage girl, who, along with her equally skeptical friends, is in for much more than she could ever imagine on the night of a Halloween party. What gruesome secrets will she uncover as she flees the encroaching, bloody mayhem of  The Harrower, the unstoppable force that stalks her and her friends?

Jessica will learn that sometimes... THERE'S TERROR IN TRADITION.

Haruki Murakami Manga Stories HC - Haruki Murakami, Jc Deveney & PMGL

Haruki Murakami's novels, essays and short stories have sold millions of copies worldwide and been translated into dozens of languages. Now for the first time, many of Murakami's best-loved short stories are available in graphic novel form in English. Haruki Murakami Stories 1 is the first of three volumes, which will present a total of 9 short stories from Murakami's bestselling collections. With their trademark mix of realism and fantasy, centering around Murakami's characteristic themes of loss, remorse and confusion, the four stories in this volume are: "Super-Frog Saves Tokyo," "Where I'm Likely to Find It," "Birthday Girl," and "The Seventh Man."

Hockey Girl Loves Drama Boy GN - Faith Erin Hicks

It should have been a night of triumph for Alix's hockey team. But when her mean-girl team captain Lindsay goes after Alix with her cruelest dig yet, Alix loses what remains of her self-control and punches Lindsay out. Before she knows it, their coach is dragging Alix off Lindsay, and her invitation to the Canada National Women's U18 Team's summer camp is on the line. Alix is shaken. She needs to learn how to control this anger, and she is sure Ezra, the popular and poised theater kid from her grade is the answer. So she asks for his help. But as they hang out and start get closer, Alix learns that there is more to Ezra than the cool front he puts on. And that maybe this friendship could become something more?

Honey Trap Shared House GN Vol 1 - Masamune Kuji & Koichi Kozuki

As a child, Hayato promised to marry his first love, Seraphy. Fifteen years later, he has become one of the world's greatest spies, all while never falling for the temptations of enemy agents. A mission to expose rival operatives turns chaotic when Hayato reunites with Seraphy, and each realizes the other is a spy. Now the pair must live together, torn between love and duty. The question is...who will break first?

Look On The Bright Side GN - Karen Schneemann & Lily Williams

The best friends from the groundbreaking Go With the Flow are back in a brand new graphic novel to face the challenges of secret crushes, big feelings, and growing up together. Your girls are back, closer than ever. But with feelings running high and hearts on the line, will their friendship get them through another year at Hazelton High?While Brit struggles with feelings for a seemingly rude boy who might have a soft side, Christine can't deny any longer that she likes Abby... as more than just a friend. The only question is, does Abby have feelings for Christine, too? Misunderstandings, betrayal, and jealousy are bound to get in the way. But hey! Look on the bright side: They're in this together. Always.

Noir Burlesque HC - Enrico Marini

A heist gone wrong forces Slick to do a job for his employer, Rex, to repay the debt he owes. But Slick is in love with Caprice, Rex's ex-call girl wife-turned-burlesque legend and Rex also has the only way for Slick to avenge his murdered father

Sugary Girls: The Art Of Eku Uekura HC - Eku Uekura

Eku Uekura has been working as a freelance illustrator since August 2020, following a stint working at a game company developing and operating new content. Uekura is a leading artist in Japanese manga and anime culture, and is active in a range of projects from creating key visuals for events, character design, illustration collaborations with companies, and more. This collection features illustrations of girls wearing colorful, adorable clothes with bright pops of color and various scrumptious-looking sweet motifs. Eku Uekura's careful attention to detail shows in the clothing designs, fanciful color schemes and depictions of cute girls that fill this collection.

Super Boba Cafe GN - Nidhi Chanani

In the fog laden hills of San Francisco sits a sleepy independent boba café. Run by Jing Li and guarded by her kitty Bao, it comfortably fades into the background. But inside the boba café, there's a secret. Jing is the keeper of the monster of San Francisco. Each day she prepares one giant boba for nine hours to feed it. When Jing's granddaughter, Aria, comes to stay with her for the summer she makes it her mission to turn the café around. Aria is quickly aided by Bao, who gives birth to eight perfect kittens. Aria spreads the news of the boba cat café on social media and overnight it is overrun with excited customers. Each day Nainai Li (Grandma Li) finds reasons to close the café but the demand only increases. When she opens, the hill monster is left hungry and small earthquakes begin to plague the city. When Aria secretly follows her Nainai to the hill monster cave she isn't sure what awaits. Will Aria be able to reason with the monster or become its new favorite meal? Or will she disturb its underground existence and cause the Big One?

The Death Ray GN - Daniel Clowes

Teen outcast Andy is an orphaned nobody with only one friend, the obnoxious-but loyal-Louie. They roam school halls and city streets, invisible to everyone but bullies and tormentors, until the glorious day when Andy takes his first puff on a cigarette. The Death-Ray employs the staples of the superhero genre-origin, costume, ray gun, sidekick, fight scene-and reconfigures them in a story that is anything but morally simplistic.

Two Graves Vol 1 TP - Genevieve Valentine, Ming Doyle & Annie Wu

Emilia and the man with the veil of smoke have set out for the ocean in a stolen truck. There's a bloody handprint on his neck. She's beginning to worry it's hers. Death stole Emilia-the first time in his very long life that he hasn't carried over the soul he was assigned to carry over. It would be romantic, except that they're being hunted. Death and the Maiden go on a road trip. Nobody gets out alive.

Undead: Finding Love In The Zombie Apocalypse GN Vol 1 - Fumi Tsuyuhisa

Which will you find in this devastated world - love or despair? Nineteen-year-old Hikaru Asahina lost everything the day the world ended. Everything, that is, except his childhood friend Ai Kosaka, who has always taken care of him. Now the two of them, along with other survivors, struggle to stay alive in a post-apocalyptic world filled with man-eating zombies.  And when Ai confesses to feeling something more for Hikaru, it changes everything. After all, the more precious someone is to you, the harder it is to lose them. In a world like theirs, is something like love even possible?

Whatcha snagging this week, Fantom Fam?

[soleilpirate]

Short story except it's over 8k words

The Day the Music Died

Only dreamers and poets believed in Magic. All the scientists and realists and cynics dismissed those who said it was real. But it turned out to be true after all. Everyone knew stories of folks who had done stupendous, physically impossible things. Mothers heaving cars off of their children, boys carrying their siblings out of battlegrounds, people falling or jumping unharmed from high places. Druids, monks, priests seeing God? Magic. The building of Stonehenge, the Pyramids, the stones of Puma Punku? Magic. Van Gogh who cut off his ear? A desperate attempt to not hear the Magic. Beethoven, who lost his hearing and still composed some of the most beautiful music on Earth? Magic.

No one expected any of those things to ever be more than isolated incidents. Until the 21st of December of the year 2012, when the Mayan calendar ended. Magic surged as it always had during the supposed “holy times” like Solstice and Equinox. But now, it not only matched Science, but surged beyond it, for a period of seven hours and three minutes.

Only three billion, six million, and nine thousand people on Earth heard it. But that was enough.

“There's some people coming! Survivors, by the look of 'em!” Luke called out from the balcony, pitching his voice low. He was on lookout that day.

The old man sitting in the alcove below, Henderson, grunted and looked up from his ledger. “How many?”

“Three. One's in a bad way. Leg's dragging. The others are supporting him on either side.”

Henderson stood up fast, briefly knocking his chair onto its back legs. It thunked loudly back down. “Are them damn fools leaving a blood trail straight to us!” He emphasized incredulously, starting for the stairs to have a look for himself.

Luke squinted. “I see only clean grass and dirt behind them...and just them three. They musta doctored him enough before coming here.”

Henderson just grunted. After a moment he sat back down and resumed going over lists of supplies. “Ash will have to see to them. The injured one at least.”

Luke looked uneasy. After a moment, “You want me to tell her?”

“I will. When they get here.” Henderson paused. “When I've assessed them.”

He was waiting for them some minutes later; door open just far enough, smiling and amiable and aimed like a sword. They paused and looked uncertainly at him.

“Well, you're almost to safety, you gonna slow down now?” He said, easily. “You're going straight for the door after all.” Henderson leaned back and opened it a bit wider.

The woman of the group spoke. “You'll let us in? We've heard about this place. Someone told us...” Her face screwed up and she stopped talking, looked frightened.

“Told you what.” Flatly.

She looked at the other man, who was helping support the injured one. They both looked at the wounded man as well. They all looked scared. “Yeah...we were attacked, out too far from shelter when the sun set. We tried to get back in time, we just moved too slow.” She swallowed hard. “Our friend had been telling us about this place she'd heard about, and a hunter that killed...them. The waning light caught us by surprise” she trailed off and looked down as if ashamed. “Anyway, we tried, like I said. To get back to our place. But Screamers caught us and Heather got killed. Kit was hurt but....we still got inside.”

“And then decided to leave the next morning, aye?” Henderson tried to calculate the distance Kit might have been able to travel.

“It was getting crowded there anyway. Supplies were running low. Only a few people know how to grow food, or how to gather it. And hardly anyone knows about fixing hurt or sick people anymore. It was time to go.” Her eyes welled with tears, she bravely blinked them away.

They'd been driven out because of the young man's injury. And because they'd been caught outside so near to sunset. Probably having sex and therefore distracted. Henderson knew that. More, these young folks knew it. He could see it all over them. Well, he ran this damn place to try to help people didn't he? And he was wasting time gabbing at the door when all could be discussed inside.

“Get in,” he said abruptly, moving aside and shoving the heavy oak door wider. The two stronger adults dragged their burden in, and Kit smothered a moan of pain.

“Go ahead and sit here. Gonna fetch someone to help you, then we can feed ya and discuss your place here.” Subtext: What can you do, what do you offer, how hard will you work for all our safety.

Henderson strode off, heading straight for the smaller room at the rear of the house. “Ash,” he called, before he knocked on the door. He'd learned the lesson to warn her before disturbing her.

“Ash.” Leaning closer, he heard the music. 'Is it simply a game/For a rich young boy to play?/The colors of the world/Are changing day by day/Red, the blood of angry men'

And then the door was flung open and she faced him. Silent. Blue eyes accusing. Every muscle wary for what might come. Henderson made sure his hands were in full view. “Got some new people in today. They need tending to. Two men and a woman. One of the men got a hurt leg.”

Her brow furrowed. Henderson took what comfort he could from her rising and falling chest. His Ash, strong and steady as a rock, as the sacred tree she was named for. 'Had you been there today/You might also have known/How the world may be changed/In just one burst of light!'

“Farha is the healer. Let her see to them. I'm security.” Her answer was one of puzzlement.

“You can both see to them. They need to know how we run things, they've been turned away from a place poorly managed. Do it Ash.” His voice was curt. A command. He turned and walked away, expecting her compliance.

Kit was fading in and out of awareness when two women approached him and his companions. He focused groggily, and the sight of one of the people sharpened him. Rob and Mariah smothered gasps.

The women stared at them, then glanced at each other. The pale one had blond hair in a braid, and a scar. It ran from her left temple in a diagonal frighteningly near her eye, running down her cheek to slightly disfigure the left corner of her mouth. It was clearly long healed but stood out like a rope across her face.

“All right, let's get you to the kitchen so I can take a look at that leg,” the other woman said briskly. She was dark skinned with a strong nose. Her black hair was braided and coiled at the nape of her neck. Her brown eyes were slightly tilted and gorgeous. All three of the new people stared at her for a few moments before moving to follow her command.

As they had done on the way here, Rob and Mariah supported Kit on either side. He had initially been able to bear his own weight but the wounds were taking their toll. He felt hot to the touch as well. His companions were easing him into a seat when the dark skinned woman spoke.

“Either the pants come off, or they get cut off. And judging by the blood on them, best we cut them rather than drag it across your wounds.” She moved about, gathering supplies. “One of you start a fire, would you?” directed at the wounded man's companions. Then, “Ash, can you get that material out of the way? I'll be right back.”

Ash moved closer to the man on the chair. Rob has his hand on Kit's shoulder. Mariah glanced back at them, biting her lip, as she added more wood to the kitchen fireplace. Suddenly Ash took a large dagger from a holster on her leg and knelt before Kit. They barely had time to react before she had the sharp edge to Kit's jeans. He realized what was happening and gasped in shock. By the time he jerked, she'd already sliced the fabric neatly from his thigh to his ankle.

Her eyes flicked to his face, then she peeled the fabric away. “Yeah. These gotta get cleaned and mended. But in the meantime we have a decent supply of clothes. I bring back a fair amount every day.”

Kit's wounds, exposed to air now, began to throb and scream at him. He moaned, sagging in the chair. The other woman bustled back in with some jars and pouches in her hands.

“Thank you!” she said sincerely to Ash, who gave a curt nod. She stood before them, seeming uncertain for the first time.

“These look infected.” Farha said critically, eyeing the ragged slices. She leaned close and sniffed it. Hummed in a thoughtful, inquiring pitch and began picking out dried herbs from the jars.

Abruptly Ash folded her arms over her chest, and started talking. “Everyone has a job here. Obviously, Farha is the healer. We have three..hmm it's two now, farmers that take care of the crops, we have one guy who looks after the water on the property, makes sure it's flowing, and clean. A married couple here are in charge of cleaning and maintenance, they assign duties for others too. We have one cook, and we could use more. If you wanna stay here, you need to list your skills and organize to do that duty. One of the people who took care of mending clothes and stuff like that, died. We could use another.”

They all stayed quiet, a bit stunned by Ash's direct and harsh manner. Kit flinched and hissed between his teeth as Farha began applying a warm cloth to clean the cuts. There were three, two slanted diagonally and raggedly across his hip and thigh. The third was clearly a bite, just above his knee.

Mariah was unable to tear her eyes from Ash. Timidly asked, “What job do YOU do?”

Ash grinned. It looked startling, like something she had learned and been forced to practice, instead of occurring naturally. “I kill the Screamers.”

All three sat in stunned awe. Farha covered the pot of simmering herbs and smiled knowingly. Glanced at the scowling blonde.

“You're the hunter! You...you KILL them!? How!” Rob breathed shallowly, pupils dilated.

“Usually with a sword. Sometimes a knife.”

Silence ruled, save for bubbling of medicine and crackling of fire. Kit's eyes followed the gleam of Ash's hair. No one wore long hair anymore. No one. He'd all but forgotten what long hair even looked like. She saw how he was looking at her and stiffened.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked tersely.

“Maybe later,” Farha smiled gently at her. “You can go now.”

Ash nodded and moved towards the back of the kitchen where an alcove and a door were visible. She could be seen strapping a sword across her back and selecting another knife from a cupboard.

Mariah stood up. “Where are you going!?” in an incredulous voice.

Ash went still for a moment. Farha, adding the herbs and an unguent to a bowl, clicked her tongue. Then Ash turned and gave all three newcomers such a contemptuous, dismissive glance; they reeled. Then out the door she went.

She ran, ran as though she could outrun the Screamers, or perhaps outrun herself. She'd forgotten her goggles in her urgency to leave the unsettling New Boys, especially the injured one who looked at her as though seeing HER; now her eyes streamed tears due to the wind. Ash did not want to be seen that way; as a person and not a weapon. It brought back too many memories.

She could hear THEM now, on that same wind. Stopping, she crouched near a boulder and wiped away the moisture in her eyes. Assessed her weapons, chose the sword. She usually started with the sword until their numbers forced her into the knives of close fighting. Ash gave a grateful nod to the mountains whose smaller outcroppings gave her and the house she guarded some protection.

And there they came, bunched together but not in a group. They hadn't minds enough to actually cooperate with each other. They never would. Mouths stretched wide, distorting their whole faces; eyes bright and wide open and so hopeful of capturing the Magic they could hear as the Music in their heads; cords bulging in their necks from the constant effort. Broken from their inability to actually channel it.

Ash did not pity them at all. She never had.

Her sword flashed in the sunlight.

Later, she rested beside the quiet figures, catching her breath. Sunlight glinted off her hair. Absently she wiped her blades in the cleaner sections of grass while considering the looting she was about to do, of what had once been people. No reason to keep putting it off. Resolutely she rose.

The only real trouble with living near a mountain was that rocks were plentiful but rocks didn't burn. After stripping usable supplies off the remains, she cast about for enough kindling to hold a flame. There was so little, but she did her best, then pulled out the bottle of whiskey from her inner pocket of her jacket, the one saved for medicinal purposes. A bit of a sprinkle for each of them and she was able to light them. Ash made sure to sit upwind until the fires dwindled. Then she shouldered her load of clothing and variables for the people at home, and began the long walk there.

With Farha's excellent healing skills, it was only two days before Kit's infection eased and he could move under his own power. He wobbled a bit and was slow, that would improve with time. Henderson brought them to see Sue Ellen, the woman who organized supplies and also did the mending.

She briskly sat down at the table with the new folk and pulled her inkwell closer to her. “All right then. Let's get started. Tell me what kind of work you did in your old place? And if you'd like to do different work here?”

There was a brief silence. Rob and Mariah glanced at each other. “I think...our place was less organized.” Rob laughed a little. “We just all kinda did whatever needed doing. Which might be different every day.”

His arm moved slightly and Kit realized he and Mariah were holding holds under the table. He felt a brief pang of bitter jealousy followed by grief for Heather. He missed a bit of the conversation for the buzzing in his head and heard “.......things that you find interesting to do otherwise?”

Rob spoke a bit hesitantly at first. “Well I always enjoyed the outdoors. Gathering food and stuff. Maybe I can work in the gardens here?” With more confidence, “I've a bit of a green thumb.”

“Certainly. We can actually use someone for that. Um. Simon is our scientist. He converts the potatoes and corn to usable fuel. He could really use an apprentice, knowledge has to be shared or it's lost. Technology is still available to us, on a limited basis. Would you be ok with that?” Rob glanced at Kit and one corner of his mouth curled up. “Sure! Look at me, going back to school!” He laughed lightly.

Sue Ellen arched a brow and pursed her lips, ignored his inappropriate humor in referencing humanity's past. Her quill scratched precisely on the parchment. “And you Mariah? What would you like?”

“Can I....that lady with the scar...she said one of the people who mends clothes died. I can mend. I'm good at that. Better than I am at anything else!” Mariah laughed. As the woman made a note of her proffered skill, Mariah's hand under the table briefly touched her stomach.

Sue Ellen turned to Kit with a small smile. “Your turn at last. What skills or interests have you, young man?”

“Uh. I've given little thought to it.” He licked his lips. “But I like being outside. When I was young, camping was my favorite. So uh...” Ash went out every day with weapons. Luke and Chris patrolled the house. Outside. Outside where Ash was. “I can help guard the compound?” He hadn't meant that to sound like a question. He'd wanted to sound strong and sure.

“Oh we can always use that. But are you sure? That can be a dangerous job. And you're already injured.” Her implication was.... Are you GOOD at guarding things?

His thoughts flashed to Heather again and his face tightened. “Yeah. I'm sure.” He WOULD do this. He would be strong. And not lose anyone again. The men got up and left to find their new teachers and duties.

Chris showed Kit all the spots where they generally posted lookouts. The high balcony out front. Patrolling the whole grounds three times a day. The silo near the barn. And of course, guarding the others at the stream when they washed household items and drew water. He showed him the weapons cache – marking particularly which were for Ash's use.

“Ever used a bow and arrow before?”

“My dad did. He was a hunter.”

The other man just nodded and looked away. After a few respectful moments for Kit's former life, he went on. “Practice is all you need. You can do that in the cornfield. Come on.”

As they walked Chris mentioned, “Luke loves bow and arrow. It's his favorite and he's really good. You can probably pick it up too, but I'd recommend axes. And..if you want...sword. Ash will ignore you. If you want that weapon, you'll train on your own more or less.” He chuckled.

Kit broke into a light sweat trying to walk as though he was not still torn up. “She's so mean.” He huffed.

“Yeah well. She's a fighter. She needs to be mean for that.” Chris answered curtly. He noticed Kit's pace but didn't slow his own.

The sounds of Simon fussing and bustling about, adjusting beakers and clanking around big tubs of whatever substances he was brewing, drifted out of the open doors of the barn. Whatever was steaming on the wood stove smelled both sweet and rancid. Kit glanced toward the barn twice during practicing.

“Mind what you're doing.” Chris advised him. “You'll have downtime to socialize. We do that occasionally, you know.”

“Yeah. OK.” He focused, ignoring his throbbing leg, and lowered his shoulders. Took deep breaths until the target was all he saw. Then flung the axe.

“Good!” He'd hit it. And not far from the center too. He heard the intercom buzz in the barn, then a voice ask impatiently, “Is that batch of liquor done yet??”

“Just barely. It'll get better with aging. YOU know that.” A crackle indicated the old man had been cut off. Kit picked up the next axe.

Silence reigned but for the thump of axes and Kit's labored breathing. Suddenly Ash brushed rudely past him. He gaped, and the other guard just chuckled. “She's always been a strange one.” Chris remarked.

“Give it to me.” She demanded from just inside the barn. Simon sighed dramatically and shrugged.

Kit stopped, on the pretext of catching his breath and stretching his muscles. He saw her cross her arms while watching Simon insert a long tube into one of the tubs and the other end into a jug. Dark liquid flowed through the tube. “This will be a lot better if you give it time.”

“Well he's out of the last batch. Let's prevent another incident.”

“My dear, it will only get worse. You know that.”

Chris, behind him. “Come on. Throw some more. You've got a knack for it.”

A bit later Ash walked by with two bottles tucked under her arms and two more in her hands. Simon followed her for a few steps. As she stomped back to the house he mourned, “She was so sweet until Irene died.”

Sue Ellen heard the sentry announce Ash passing the border. She leaped up and ran out of the door to greet the returning woman. Mariah was so startled she made a high pitched squeak.

Looking out of the partially opened door, she saw the blonde who frightened and disturbed her so. Catching her breath, she gazed in wonder as Sue Ellen took half the woman's burden and walked beside her to the mudroom. “Oh my...these are all bloody! And...” she faltered.

“Brainy. Yeah. It's what happens. It'll wash out. It'll be fine, Sue Ellen will show you. It's why we save our pee.” Ash said in her usual brusque manner. “Come on.” She walked off in the direction of the creek.

Sue Ellen called for security on the house intercom and Luke replied. They went a bit downstream, nearer the old village, where a cache of rocks protected their supplies. Sometimes the Screamers would shelter in the old houses so Luke stood on sentry as they washed and bleached the clothing. Mariah looked past him to the west for a moment. The sky was beginning to turn orange in that direction.

“Nature is surging” Sue Ellen commented. “The plants are thriving, we burn off weeds every third day just to keep the compound from being covered.”

Mariah nodded, grimacing a bit with effort as she wrung a pair of denim pants, water flowing from her feet back towards the stream. A thundering in the distance caught all their attention. Seconds later, a herd of deer raced past them. It was mostly does, with about five fawns intermingled with them.

Luke got an arrow on his string fast enough to bring down a doe, then another moments later. “Good thing they're brave of us now! We all eat well and dress well because of it!”

The silence after that comment was loud. It had been an accidental, careless remark. Even vague references to how humans used to live was heartbreaking. Every one of them held back on scolding him for that. Luke had only meant well.

He stood by the big sliding door, watching her. He knew he should look somewhere else. It was only bathing. Everyone did it. Nakedness didn't mean what it used to. He vaguely recalled his father saying so, and certainly the sight of bared sodies or clothed bodies at any time was common at any given time.

However, staring at someone – clothed or not – was still taboo.

She was walking along the edge of the hot spring in the grotto. Naked, her hair free flowing, the steam randomly billowing around her. She paced a restless circuit several times. At one point he watched her look directly at him, and drew in a breath. Ash was harsh and rude. Surely she would have something awful to say to him? She sneered just perceptibly, and kept her circling.

Eventually she slipped into the water. She lay on her back, floating, for a few minutes. Kit thought about slipping through the door. Slipping out of his own clothes. Slipping into the water, feeling how hot and bubbly it was. Slipping his hand over her skin. Surely she would react violently to that. But what if she liked it?

Ash sat up finally. Began lathering up the soap next to her and washing. Kit forced himself to move away, to look at something else and think of something other than these insane thoughts.

Henderson walked in and sat at the big table, started shuffling a deck of cards and staring at the wall. Kit froze.

“Poor thing. She got that scar when her mother died.” The old man remarked.

Shocked silence for a moment or two. Then, haltingly, Kit asked. “How? And how long ago?”

“Oh...awhile back. The village still had people living in it. My mother in law Ronan had already Sang the ranch into this bigger, roomier configuration.”

Stupefied by this revelation, the young man blinked. “Your mother in law...Ash's grandma was..a Singer?”

“Yeah she was. Bout knocked me out of my chair when I learned it. She was the only one I knew before or after. It's very rare. There's only 963 that exist. Ash was just a little girl.....and Screamers killed her mother right in front of her. I managed to get her away before they killed her too. Before we fled though, they hurt that pretty little face.” Henderson knocked back his drink and stared Kit down. With those light blue eyes that looked just like Ash's.

Kit withered before that direct gaze. He ducked his head, mumbled an excuse, and hurried away.

There was work in the ranch, and everyone could find what they were suited for. This group fit together pretty well, and each excelled at their task. So much so that sometimes there were moments for leisure. Dice and card games were most common. Once in a great while, there was storytelling, though that often led to nostalgia and grief.

One such evening, when Kit had been a guard long enough for the moon to go from crescent to full, a game of poker was proposed by Mike and Sue Ellen. Luke joined, naturally Simon, Ken, and Chris joined in too. Someone said something ribald, Kit wasn't sure who, but the whole table erupted in coarse laughter.

“What? What's funny?” he wanted to know, his smile lighting up his face. Sue Ellen rolled her eyes and folded. “I'm out. Even if I did swing that way, she's straight.”

“Too bad, that'd be a view worth betting on as well,” Ken muttered barely above a murmur.

“Ooooh!” rejoined most of the men.

“What's the bet? I'm new here remember? What could we be possibly betting ON!” Kit asked with a bit of impatience.

“Me.” Said a quiet voice right behind him. He controlled his jump; he WAS a guard and supposed to be alert to all things after all. But Ash never made a sound when she walked.

She sat down in an armchair near, with most of her back to them. Waved an airy hand. “Carry on men. I'm curious to see who succeeds.”

Johnny pushed off from the doorway he was leaning on and sauntered over, eyes on Ash. “I'll take a bit of that action, it's been awhile.” He drawled. Kit was shocked when she gave him a slow, intent smile.

“What about you are we betting on?” He knew. He felt it in the atmosphere, in the heightened tension in the room.

Rob rolled his eyes a bit and took Mariah's hand. They disappeared to their own room.

“We all have needs, New Boy. And this way is easier than others. This way, everyone's equal and everyone's happy.” Ash began sharpening her knives. And they played with more intensity after that.

His thoughts were a bit wild for the first two rounds. He'd wanted to attract her from the second day he was here. Maybe now he would finally do so. Determinedly, he applied all his knowledge of poker – little – and all his desire - much - into focused body language to bluff the others.

It worked. He caught his breath in anticipation as all the men at the table laid down their cards with various disgruntled exclamations or soured expressions. When he rose from the table, she was already standing.

Afterward, his mind remained focused on her. As surly and solitary she behaved, he kept remembering how soft her skin was. How blue her eyes were. “Everyone's equal and everyone's happy,” But she was his favorite now. Ash was alone much of the time but when she was present he tried to get a seat near her. His patrols and rounds he made sure coincided with her going out and coming in.

And when she did stay in her room, he would walk by and hear the strains of her music. 'On my own/Pretending he's beside me/All alone/I walk with him 'til morning.' Kit thought that the song was confusing, sad and bittersweet. When he crossed her path; either going or coming from her daily hunting trips, she still glanced at him with the guarded hostility she gave everyone else.

“Hey.” He greeted her. “The sunset looks so pretty. We can see it from the-” He was going to say balcony but she cut him off with a withering glare quite like the one she'd had on the day they'd all arrived and Mariah asked her where she was going. Then she swept inside. “Or another day,” he muttered to himself.

During dinner one evening, windows open to let in the sound of water, Mariah felt queasy. Rob was urging her to have another bite. “No. I don't want any more! Stop fussing over me!” Her voice was barely audible. To Ash it was like a shout. At the first negative word she jerked, and swung her head to stare at Mariah and Rob.

Kit, seated next to her as nonchalantly as he could manage, was exulted that he'd been allowed to stay beside her. He noted her sudden shudder and curling in on herself. He assumed it was the surprise of hearing words like that. Negative words were almost unheard of. After the Date, most people spoke with Affirmation. But all Ash can recall is her mother saying “No” and “Don't.” Without finishing her meal, she abruptly got up and left. Since that was how she usually left a room, only Kit cared.

Mariah's baby grew and stretched her belly out. Made her waddle a bit when she walked. Rob burst with joy in her and they tried to work near each other as often as possible. Wherever she walked or sat, all the members of the compound -including Ash - were drawn to her. Pregnant women were a rarity and possessed an incredible magnetism.

Pregnancy and childbirth are a blend of Magic and Science. Life in its beginnings, is the only force on Earth that balances those two so perfectly. For that reason, Screamers were also drawn to a pregnant person.

“Come on Mariah. There's only a short time you have to observe. Hope you're good at memorizing.”

“Why? What's the rush?”

“Groups of more than three....well. THEY know somehow. It attracts them. Especially odd numbers, for some reason. Also.....you're carrying life. They like that.” They walked as swiftly as Mariah's heavier body could manage.

Ken assembled the foldable wooden frame he used to tan the leather, and draped the skins over it. As he worked the scraper he explained the importance of getting all the fat and blood and everything, off the backside of the hide. Indicated the buckets of brain material, that he would soak the skins in to make them pliable and more importantly, weatherproof.

Ash walked back and forth, watching the horizon. Listening to the domestic sounds of Ken and Mariah working the leather. After indulging herself in another long gaze at Mariah, she turned and looked towards the cornfields. There, Simon and Rob were working on the machine that began the process of making the corn into fuel. Luke was guarding them.

Luke, like she had been just now, was looking at Mariah.

Ash shivered suddenly as if with cold. There was someone walking towards them. And they were walking..oddly. “Who is that?” She whispered. She stared a moment longer, then suddenly began running towards the men.

“Look out, look out! Screamer!” She drew a dagger as she ran. Luke jumped in startlement and turned towards the sound of her shouting.

“Behind you!' Just then the Screamer began making their characteristic sound and ran towards the stream. Luke managed to recoil as the Screamer aimed a hard kick at him and raced past him, gibbering, saliva flying.

Another Screamer came, stumbling through the field. Simon scrambled around the machine, trying to put it between them. He snatched up corn and threw it at the monster. Rob was already running towards Mariah. Luke and Ash were both running as fast as possible, but the first Screamer was reaching for Mariah and the second had leaped over the machine and had hands around Simon's throat.

Ash used a dagger right to the nape of the monster's neck, killing it somewhat more quickly. Luke swerved around the corn mill. The Screamer had caught one foot in it, which was being ground along with the corn. The machine was making a hideous noise but even louder was the jagged sounds coming from the former human. Luke struck at it repeatedly and managed to kill it. But the hands never loosened from Simon's throat and it was too late to save him once the Screamer died.

It was a dejected cluster that returned to the ranch. Rob and Mariah had carried the news to Henderson, and he was waiting with a stony face.

He slapped Ash, the loud crack of it seeming to echo. Ash fell to her knees. Her hair flew and covered her face. She remained in the crouch the momentum had left her in.

“They killed Simon! Do you know how that's gonna cripple us?” His voice was tight with fury, his face pinched coldly. “You weren't doing your JOB! You weren't paying ATTENTION! You were looking at that MOTHER!” Henderson sent a murderous glance towards Mariah who blanched at the look and reeled back a step.

“The mothers are important. We need the mothers,” Ash said from under her curtain of hair. “Screamers just find them somehow.” Finally she straightened up, flung her head back. A smear of blood trickled from her nose down her upper lip. She wiped it away slowly, staring at her father.

Henderson inhaled deeply through his nostrils and transformed into another man. The easy going father figure with the calming smile and slow drawl reappeared.

“It's a serious loss. We have to band together more than ever, and hope Rob can fill Simon's place.” A hint of the steel showed again as he finished. His voice raised again briefly in command. “We all have to be vigilant in these times.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

Ash watched him leave. Only Kit saw a glimpse of her face. And it made him afraid, but also made him love her even more. She walked away without looking at anyone. Two hours later she left with a pack on her shoulder.

Everything was quiet for three days after that. Everyone walked on tiptoe in fear that any loud noise or sudden movement - or anything really – would break the fragile peace and cause devastation. On the evening of the third day, Ash returned from her hunt filthy and exhausted. She curtly asked for clean clothes and went to the grotto to wash. It was a much colder day than normal so a fire was built to drive away some of the chill and cheer everyone up.

Everything was going fine. People were relaxing, having hot beverages, talking and even smiling a bit more naturally. Suddenly Henderson appeared in their midst. “Quiet!” He held up a hand, staring intently out past the flames.

Everyone hushed. Then, “Screamers are coming. The bonfire is attracting them.”

“What?” “They keep away from fire!” “What did he say?” Various murmurs rose. Luke cried out in alarm.

“Where's Ashla?” Henderson asked tersely.

Everyone was quiet. After a few seconds of everyone milling and glancing around, Kit hesitantly spoke, “I think she's in the grotto still, I can check on her?”

The sound of the Screamers came then. Loud and harsh and broken, yet still strangely sounding like the melody it was intended to be. The very sky rippled, the very flames, the grass and trees and stream and house all seemed for a moment to dance with the Magic. Then without warning it was grotesque and broken and jangling.

Ash appeared suddenly in their midst, hair braided and still wet. “It's the Winter Equinox. It's happening now.” She sounded weary beyond belief. “People used to do rituals on this night. Burn fires, drink to be cheery, all to entice the sun to return. It's Magic. And Magic draws them.” She cursed viciously and sighed. Met Kit's eyes. Then ran dead straight towards the noise of the approaching threat.

“Build the fire up! It'll help her see better!” Henderson cried.

After what Ash had said, it seemed a rash act. But one by one, all the people of the house felt a determination rise in them. To fight back, to help their surly protector to fight for them. They all looked at each other. “If it's a Magical night, let it be for our favor instead of those poor monsters!” Kit called out.

The fire was fed until it roared like vengeance. In the flickering light they could see some of the battle. Henderson stood at the very edge of the circle the light cast, staring out. He gulped from the bottle he held. “Come on Ash. Come on!!”

Luke and Kit grabbed weapons to go help her. By the light of the flames the others watched them. Horrified screams went up, mingling with the discordant Screamers. Few of the ranch's inhabitants had ever seen someone actually killed. And Screamers die hard. The Magic sustains them.

One who appeared to be a girl of only twelve or so, stumbled into the fire when Luke's arrow hit her. Still screaming, she kept running, unmindful of the flames engulfing her now. Straight for the house full of people. The curtains caught first. She fell over a couch and it burst into flames too. Everyone was screaming, running, knocking into each other and the flaming Screamer. When she fell, the carpet burned as well.

Ash had raced after the creature. Kit saw her and followed; the fire and their blades had finished the rest of the raggedy band of former people. Stumbling through the smoke, he pulled his shirt over his mouth and tried to peer through. The residents were fleeing in hysteria. He staggered to the big meeting room, coughing. This room was clearer, and occupied. By Henderson and Ash. As he cleared his lungs, he stared in disbelief as the warrior raised her sword, and slashed the caretaker and protector of the ranch. Henderson fell with only one feeble groan.

Kit yelled in shock. Ash whirled, ran towards him. He scrambled back out of the room, she grabbed the shirt fabric right under his chin. “Shut up! They'll hear you!” She dragged him towards the rear entry door, where he'd once stared longingly out at her. “Move faster!”

Kit tried to pull back but the smoke was now filling this room too. They moved together past the grotto and into the open grassy area beyond. There they halted and collapsed on the grass, both out of breath. In the distance, through the smoke, they observed knots of the folk they knew. Running away from the terror and the flames and the dying sounds of Screamers. Running away. To safety. Maybe.

It was difficult to look at the remnants of the compound. They did so regardless of how they felt about it, really. Humans need to say goodbye. And so they stood side by side, each mourning silently for whatever it was they would miss. In only a few minutes Ash nudged him. “We have to keep moving.”

He looked at her with his breath shuddering in his chest.

“I've got my pack, we can fill my water jugs at the creek. We'll forage on the way.”

“To where?” Hoarsely.

“Wherever.” She was already walking away.

Kit trailed after her, his feet lagging, his heart aching. After only a few steps he began to sob. The sheer emotional weight of trauma made him slow. After a few minutes Ash glanced back at him and stopped. She looked impatient.

“We have to move faster. We need a good place to shelter AND have food and supplies, by sundown!”

“Don't you care about ANYTHING!?” He burst out at her.

“I care about living another day if I can.” She replied shortly.

“You killed your father! Some of our friends are dead! The rest are gone!”

She stopped and raged back at him, “I'm glad my father is dead! The others...I regret. I'd have saved them if I could have.”

“Are you really a monster? You act like nothing happened!”

She looked at him steadily. “I'm not the monster. I fight the monsters. I'm the Ash Tree.”

He spit on the ground, his sorrow and fear too great for him to stand. “Ancient myths that you hide behind! You just walk away!”

She moved so swiftly he yelped in shock; before the cry had fully left his mouth she had a hold of his collar again and had raised him on his toes. “My father was the monster. Not me. I heard him tell you his tale of my mother's death. It's a lie. HE killed my mother!”

Everything went silent. There was only the faint sound of the creek and the birds that chirped, happily unaware of the cruelty of humans. Kit made a croak of shock.

“He's a terrible man. But he wants to be thought well of. Wants to be adored. It's why he ran that ranch. So people would admire him, and think him wonderful for SAVING them.” Loathing dripped from that word. “He beat her when he was drunk. And me. Why do you think we grow so much corn? It's more than for fuel for machines! It's so he can keep drinking!”

She let go of him. “We were out of alcohol. Mama did something to upset him. Who knows what? He started hitting her and it got really bad. I got between them. I was EIGHT! He had a knife in his hand and my mom was bleeding. And he cut me. His little girl. I almost died, my mother DID die, and my grandmama healed me before SHE died of grief!”

Silence, except for nature, reigned again. She turned and started walking again. “Come on!”

Kit was reeling. What she said had changed everything, colored all his memories of the last several months. Shock made him stumble and snivel as he tried to travel at her steady pace. He must have been annoying her with his noises for she stopped again with an impatient grunt.

“You have to control your emotions. Survival is all we have left now.” She gave him a pitying look. “We might well be the last humans alive in this land. Are there other compounds? Are there survivors from your old one? It's sundown for humanity. All we can do is keep moving, until we lie down to die. A hundred years from now? Ten years? Ten breaths? Who of us knows?”

She took hold of his arm, steadied him as he staggered. “We have to keep moving. Find food, find shelter. Survive. It's....” she paused. “The human thing to do.”

They kept going towards the forlorn little houses spread out on the hillside. The sound of the birds and their breathing was the only sound. When they got closer the sky was beginning to turn purple. As they got closer Kit heard rustling and then, just as his eyes adjusted to see a shape slinking along the wall of one house, a low growl.

Ash pulled to the right instantly. Her gait became much slower and she made soothing, calm down noises. The shape came nearer, and slowed. “It's a wolf,” she whispered. “Can you hear her cubs?”

Straining his ears, he did. Just barely. They moved to the outside line of houses and chose one. He was exhausted, his leg screaming, and he slumped trembling into a chair the moment they were inside. In a daze he watched Ash lock the door and check all the windows. Most of them were blocked already but she moved chairs and stacked books until the others were also barricaded.

“Let's get some sleep. We have to be up in time to forage and then move before next sunset.”

“Do you really think there's anyone to find?”

“There's always your place. The one that expelled you. There might be people there.”

“Maybe.”

“There'll be strong walls at least.”

They fell asleep on a pile of blankets and pillows between the couch and the coffee table. Ash jerked awake when the sun was still fairly high, almost noon. She shook Kit awake. It took awhile.

Groggily he questioned, “Got anything to eat?”

“It's digging in the ground for us, I'm afraid.” Humor tinged her voice.

“Can we hunt or something?” He raised himself up on one elbow.

Ash made a face. It was somewhat like a smile, but her scar caught at it. She coughed and said dryly, “With a sword and daggers? I only grabbed blades before we ran. Luke took a bow.” Wistfulness crept into her voice. “I saw him with it, saw him as he ran.”

Kit thought hard for a moment. Yawned. Took a drink of water. “We can set traps? That's what we did..” he faltered. “Before.”

“Traps take time. We don't have it. Up. We dig and forage today. On the move.”

They found a raspberry patch and feasted. Kit found some strips of jerky in the leg pocket of his cargos. After a bit of traveling, Ash suddenly ran and began picking up something from the ground under a huge tree. She said it was black walnut, and they sat awhile cracking the nuts like happy squirrels. But suddenly familiar shrieks filled the air.

“What the FUCK! Out in the middle of the afternoon?” They chose to run. They walnut tree had been planted by a farmer. Soon they saw the outline of his stone fence. However, the farmhouse was rubble. They took a stand.

Backed up to a stone wall though he was, the numbers were overwhelming. And he was exhausted, sweat dripping, breath rasping. She saw it. Drawing a deep breath, she shouted. In rage, in fear, in loss and at the unfairness of it all. Magic in the world! And all it could produce was horror! And then she sang. Not like the true Singers. Just an off melody “la la la la la” and a sudden lunge to the side.

The Screamers gasped, almost in complete unison. Ash could not hear the Music, had no hope of succeeding. But the pure hysteria her cracked voice caused in all the poor unfortunates was incredible.

He ran as best he was able. His leg hurt, and his heart hurt. His breath rasped in his lungs as he wept. A couple of them were still chasing him. Kit made for a cypress nearby. Jumping up, he managed to swing himself upwards enough to reach the next branch, forcing himself higher. The Screamers on the ground couldn't quite figure out where he went and attacked each other. Gradually the screams quieted. Kit straddled a branch that seemed almost too thin to support him, and hugged the trunk. He sobbed and sobbed until his breath ran out and he had to gulp. Slowly he calmed down.

The branch was smashing his crotch and snot was running down his face. He kept thinking of her last moments. It had all happened so fast. One moment she was beside him and then she was just gone. They could have kissed. She could have said goodbye. Maybe he could find her! But he knew it was too late for that. Scenarios ran through his mind over and over but they changed nothing. Over and over again, he was slammed by the knowledge that in a breath, his life had changed forever.

Slowly he slid down the tree. Found his pack halfway down, with water and the food they had foraged still inside. He winced as he shouldered it, he'd scraped himself several times climbing. Resolute, he studied the lowering sun and figured out his direction. Thankfully it was mostly downhill with a bit of level ground here and there. Off he set, sure of his destination.

The sight of the stone walls was such a relief he nearly fell to his knees. Ruthlessly he drove himself forward. Was anyone alive there? The sun was so low it was turning red already. He could hear distant shrieks. Running up to the door, he pounded frantically on it. “Hey! Hey I'm back let me in! Let me in!”

They had to let in such a noisemaker. The door opened and one of his old friends gawped at him. Kit pushed his way in. “Hi everyone. Listen to me now. I have a way to improve things.”

[suitnskinboy]

Chapter Five

The Aftermath and Offer of Destiny

  Exhausted but victorious, the trio stood together amidst the aftermath of their battle. Their Edwardian suits, now tattered and dirtied, symbolized the trials they had endured and the strength they had discovered within themselves. The park, once a battleground, now held the remnants of their magical prowess, a testament to their unity and unwavering determination.

As the echoes of the battle gradually faded away, Jason and Jacob turned their attention to restoring the park to its former glory. With their combined magical abilities, they focused their energies on mending the Earth, revitalizing the damaged land, and breathing life back into the plants and trees. As the magic flowed, the once-devastated park underwent a remarkable transformation. The earth healed, the vegetation flourished, and the flowers bloomed with newfound vibrancy.

As the dust settled and the battle ended, Mr. Winston knew that the crowd's memories of the battle had to be removed. Employing his skills in memory manipulation, he gently erased the recollection of the battle and the transformative magic from the onlookers' minds. As the crowd dispersed, their clothing returned to what they were wearing before the battle, although you could still see red, green, and purple coloring some of the clothes.  Mr. Winston made a mental note of this, perhaps more apprentice wizards in the near future.

After the park was restored, Mr. Winston transported the trio back to Jason and Jacob's apartment. He then showed the young men how to restore their suits to pristine condition.  The young men discovered that their eye colors had changed to match their affinity colors, reflecting the strength of their abilities, as well as the bond between them.

Gathering in the cozy living room, Mr. Winston stood before Jason and Jacob, his eyes shining with a mix of pride and concern. He took a deep breath and began, "My young friends, the time has come for us to discuss the next steps on your magical journey. The temporary knowledge that allowed you to access your full potential will need to be removed, as it would be unsafe for you in the long run. However, I offer myself as your mentor, to guide you in honing your innate powers and unlocking the depths of your abilities."

Jason and Jacob exchanged glances, a blend of gratitude and determination passing between them. Jason, his fiery red hair reflecting his passion, couldn't help but tease, "So, Mr. Winston, does this mean we get to keep these snazzy suits? I'm quite fond of the Edwardian style."

Jacob chuckled, joining in on the lighthearted banter. "Yes, I think we look rather dashing in these suits and stiff collars. It's quite the fashion statement."

Mr. Winston chuckled softly, appreciating their humor. "Ah, the suits! Well, if I am being honest, the suits were due to my personal style preference.  You may choose any style of clothing you would like.  While I am honored that you would choose the same style, please understand the real power lies within you, not in the fabric of these suits.  However, I promise that as we embark on this magical journey together, I will ensure that you have appropriate attire befitting your roles.

Jason and Jacob exchanged a playful look, acknowledging the underlying message behind Mr. Winston's words. They understood that the true strength came from their own abilities and the bond they shared as wizards.

Mr. Winston's smile softened, pride evident in his gaze. "Indeed, my young apprentices. Now, let us embrace this journey together and unlock the wonders that magic holds. With dedication, discipline, and a touch of humor along the way, we shall prevail."

The room filled with a renewed sense of purpose, as their shared laughter served as a testament to the bond they would forge as they delved into the enchanting realm of magic.

  Chapter Six

Realizing Destiny

Throughout their training, Mr. Winston imparted his extensive knowledge, honing their skills and expanding their understanding of the magical arts. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, as Jason and Jacob absorbed the teachings with unwavering dedication. Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, their love for each other intertwining seamlessly with their shared passion for magic.

Under Mr. Winston's watchful eye, and with the assistance of other Master Wizards, they discovered new spells, honed their abilities, and explored the depths of their individual affinities.

After years of intense training, exploring the depths of their magical abilities, Jason and Jacob’s bond as both wizards and lovers grew stronger. They found themselves surrounded by a supportive community of fellow wizards, each with their unique affinities and areas of expertise. The wisdom and guidance of Master Wizards had shaped them into formidable practitioners of magic.

As their journey reached a significant milestone, Jason and Jacob realized it was time to formalize their relationship. With the blessings of their fellow wizards and the support of Mr. Winston, they decided to exchange vows and commit to a lifetime of love and magic together.

In a picturesque ceremony held in a magical grove, Mr. Winston, with his distinguished presence, officiated the union. Dressed in copies of the Silver-grey Edwardian suits and wingtip collars that had marked the beginning of their journey, Jason and Jacob stood before their loved ones, radiant with love and determination.

Standing at the altar, Mr. Winston called for silence, starting the ceremony.  “Dearly beloved, esteemed wizards, and cherished friends, we gather here today to witness and celebrate the union of two remarkable souls. Jason and Jacob, your journey has been one of growth, discovery, and unwavering love. As your mentor and guide, I have witnessed the strength of your bond and the magic that dances between you. Today, we commemorate not only your commitment to each other but also the intertwining of your destinies as powerful wizards."

Jason, with tears already building, went first.  "Jacob, from the moment our paths crossed, I knew that our connection was extraordinary. You are my rock, my inspiration, and my partner in magic. Today, I stand before you, in the presence of our loved ones and fellow wizards, to pledge my love and devotion to you. I promise to support you in every endeavor, to celebrate your triumphs, and to be there through the challenges we may face. Together, we will harness the forces of magic, weaving spells of love, protection, and endless possibilities. With this ring, I seal our bond, and declare my heart is yours."

Jacob, his heart swelling, professed his vows.  "Jason, you are the flame that ignites my spirit, the calming breeze that soothes my soul. From the depths of my being, I vow to walk by your side, hand in hand, on this magical journey we call life. In your embrace, I find strength and solace, and in your love, I discover endless wonder. Together, we will weave spells of compassion, nurture the harmony of nature, and protect the realms we hold dear. With this ring, I mark our unity, and with my love, I give you my all."

The crowd of wizards, adorned in their own unique attires witnessed the solemn moment. The air hummed with a sense of magic and anticipation, as the vows were exchanged, binding their hearts and destinies together. Surrounded by the embrace of nature, the whispers of the enchanted grove, and the loving support of their magical community, Jason and Jacob embarked on a new chapter of their lives.

As they sealed their commitment with a kiss, the essence of their magic intertwined, a testament to the power of love and the limitless potential they held within. Their Edwardian suits and collars, symbolic of their shared journey and growth, seemed to glow with a renewed brilliance, reflecting the depth of their connection and the magic that bound them.

Mr. Winston once again asked for everyone’s attention.  Not knowing what’s going on, Jason, Jacob, and the assembled crowd turned towards him.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Winston announced “Dear friends, esteemed wizards, and all who bear witness to this momentous occasion," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "There is another reason for today’s gathering.  It has been my honor to help guide the training of the fine young men. With few exceptions, I have never seen any wizards that have shown the dedication and discipline these men have shown.  With the approval of the other Masters, it is my continued honor to announce that Jason and Jacob are both hereby granted the title Master of the Mystic Arts with all rights and responsibilities thereof.”

A wave of applause and cheers erupted from the magical assembly, resonating with the magnitude of the moment. Jason and Jacob exchanged surprised glances, their hearts filled with gratitude and excitement. They had never anticipated such an honor, but their tireless efforts and unwavering commitment had brought them to this pinnacle of their magical journey.

Mr. Winston continued, his voice resonating with warmth and admiration, "As Masters, you are entrusted with great responsibilities. The realms of magic and the protection of our dimension rest in your capable hands. May you wield your powers with wisdom, compassion, and a steadfast commitment to the greater good. Let your titles be a testament to your accomplishments, but also a reminder of the ongoing pursuit of knowledge and the ever-growing depths of your magical abilities." 

And so, Jason and Jacob, the devoted wizards, and partners, embarked on their shared path, hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges and adventures awaited them. With their love as their guiding light and their magical abilities as their strength, they would continue to weave their own enchanting story in a world brimming with endless possibilities.

[redmessenger]

"lukas, wasn't it?" peaceably, as though the words to follow should be ' nice weather we're having ' or ' i wanted to thank you for your recommendations the other day. ' instead, there's the crackling static of gathering lightning, the popping of blue-white fulgur, and the pervasion of ozone preceding a storm. thunder magic always had a way of sucking the oxygen out of a place, even as open a grounds as gronder field. he didn't have any interest in sneaking up on the man, even if he was an ' opponent ' for the day. part of him rather hoped that by announcing himself, he might even give the spearman an upper hand, and so end this quickly. first they'd asked him to survey a battleground, then they asked him to fight in it. for sport.

"... if possible, i'd like today to go by quickly."

etzel ( 5/5 ) → attacks lukas ( 5/5 ) with thunder. etzel critically hits! (20) , 4 dmg.

Etzel. Lukas' mind offers his opponent's name quickly, though there's not much use for it now. The man's identity comes second to his apparent occupation, the robes he wears and the powerful magic he wields. A mage, he concludes with a frown. Lukas fought his fair share of them back in the war, but they always proved to be tricky opponents.

Etzel Roll: 20, crit! 4 damage dealt, Lukas 1/5HP

And this one is no different. Thunder magic strikes him frightening power and accuracy, nearly bringing Lukas to his knees. When Etzel said he wanted a quick fight, he certainly wasn't kidding. Fortune favors his opponent, but Lukas has no interest in surrendering when the battle's just beginning.

"...Very well. Let's not waste time with talk then."

Lukas (1/5) counterattacks with the Javelin! Hits (8), -1.5HP Lukas (1/5) attacks with Shatter Slash! Hit (12), -1.5HP and -1 def/res for one turn

With Etzel so close, Lukas strikes quickly with the javelin. Another one of those Thunder strikes could easily kill him if they aren't careful. But if he manages to unbalance the mage, he might just have a chance of winning this battle.