#rare pawn dialogue

[dd-wyd]

Pawns remember!

First time I heard Wyd directly reference a different quest outcome from a prior NG+ run (I didn't do the phantom oxcart quest until now, my fourth run).

Lore implications

This means your pawn remembers everything that happened in the prior cycle.

I'm choosing to believe that also means they keep their free will, even if gameplay mechanic wise, you have to build the affinity back up. Mayhaps you can view it as you having to show your pawn that this new iteration of you is still the same.

I know pawns recognize you in NG+ ("I knew you would not leave this world behind!"), but this direct reference to prior happenings is even better imo.

[Side note: I know pawns can also reference different quest outcomes when hired, but they'll say something like "If only my master beyond the rift would have known...", so this is defo main pawn specific dialogue.]

[red-dead-sakharine]

Oh, I'll be happy to sup with you anywhere, Wyd...

more DDII stuff

[pretending-ican-write]

Cowboy Up - Pt.1 - Ryan x Dutton!reader

Um so I watched all of Yellowstone last week and as a result, my multi-year writer's block was broken by a need to see more of Ryan because I am obsessed with Ian Bohen. Idk how many parts this will have or how often it will get updated as I'm in the last few months of uni but I hope y'all enjoy!

Pairing: Ryan (Yellowstone) x Dutton!Reader (Kayce's twin sister)

WC: 1053

Next part

Disclaimer: Beyond watching Yellowstone I have zero/little knowledge of Western riding and the ranching lifestyle but I do know horses so that has certainly influenced this! I'm also English so writing dialogue correctly for them is not my strong point! If you find any issues please let me know!

---

The sun was just beginning to dip below the mountains and the cold was starting to set in when she joined him on the fence.  Neither of them spoke for a while, just looking out at the vastness in front of them, all that was theirs but came with so many conditions.  

Eventually she broke the silence, “so you told him?  How’d he take that one?”

Wordlessly he opened his shirt where the ‘Y’ was just starting to scab over, still red and angry.

“Motherfucker,” she swore, “this ain’t fair Kayce.  He doesn’t just get to do this.”

He shook his head, “dad does whatever he wants and there ain’t no consequences for him.  That’s why I gotta do this.”

“Shit man.  What’s Monica gonna do?  Besides worrying about you getting your ass shot in the desert miles from civilisation?”

Kayce chuckled, “beats getting my ass shot in the middle of Montana miles from civilisation.  She’ll be okay, her family will help and she’ll be a teacher.  Just like she planned.  It’s you I’m worried about here with dad and no one else to speak sense to.  ‘Cept Lee”

“Well I’m leaving, dad be damned.  I’m not gonna be a pawn in his power trip.  Gonna go see this godforsaken country and win it all so that when I come back he can’t question whether it’s where I wanna be,” she declared.

Her brother rolled his eyes, “you ain’t talking about the same him now.”

“I don’t know what your talking about,” she denied, staring out at the darkened mountains.

Kayce shoved her shoulder, “you can’t bullshit to me y/n.  That’s the one problem with being twins, ain’t no way to lie to me.”

“I’m just a kid to him, he ain’t ever gonna see me any other way if I stay here,” she admitted, “hell if I stay here no one will ever see me as anything more than his kid.  ‘S why we both gotta do this Kayce.”

He nodded, “no way to stand in the sun in this state, always gonna be a shadow.”

“When I come back I’ll be able to stand in sunlight so bright I’ll have a fucking halo.”

-/-/-

2 years later…

 Montana has its charms all year round, but fall has a particular appeal.  The leaves had started to turn, there was a chill in the air that only seemed to get  stronger and there was still a frost on the grass that the sun hadn’t hit.  

With the sun keeping the cold from their bones, the Yellowstone ranch hands were occupying themselves keeping their roping skills fresh.  Rip observed from the sidelines as the new hand struggled to keep up with Ryan who turned to lecture the kid about keeping his eye on the steer.  

Lloyd rolled his eyes when he missed the horns again, “you gotta try harder than that if you wanna be a wrangler!”

“He keeps pulling the damn steer too early,” the hand argued back.

Ryan glared at him, “don’t fuckin’ blame me for your bad skills.”

Before they could descend into an all out brawl, the group were distracted by the sound and sight of truck coming down the road.  They watched it pull up in front of the barn, trailer in tow.  A rare silence occupied them as they watched a young woman step out, adjust her hat then stare out across the ranch in front of her.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Lloyd muttered, “she’s back.  You fuckin’ know about this?”

Rip said nothing, but his face gave the answer.  The other hands who recognised her muttered between themselves about what she was doing back after so long.

The new hand leaned over towards Ryan, “who the fuck is that and why does everybody care?”

“That is y/n Dutton,” he answered without taking his eyes off of her.

“I didn’t know John had another daughter,” he responded.

Ryan shook his head, “hell kid you gotta lot to learn about this place.”

“She’s fuckin’ hot mind,” the hand murmered.

The older hand spat out his words, “you keep words like that off your tongue if you want to keep it.”

Lee stepped out of the barn and stepped around the truck to greet her, “the prodigal daughter returns.”

“I don’t see Beth anywhere,” she laughed bitterly, “but it’s good to see you Lee.”

He hugged her, “I’m glad you’re back.  Been a long time coming.”

“I came back for me, not for him remember that,” she turned towards the corral, “think I’ve given them enough of a show to explain it so they can pick their jaws up off the floor?”

He gestured for her to follow him towards where the ranch hands were all still quietly watching.  She strode over to the group, smiling at Rip who nodded back at her.

“Where’s that mare of yours?” He asked.

Y/n shrugged, “a champion barrel horse would be wasted on this ranch.  Sold her for more money than I’m ever gonna earn in the rest of my lifetime.”

“You ain’t rodeoing anymore?” Lloyd questioned.

“I did what I set out to do when I went on the circuit.  Saw this godforsaken country and won it all.  It’d get boring to win it over again,” she moved her gaze towards where Ryan was watching her, “ain’t no one gonna question where I wanna be now.”

Rip nodded, “afraid we ain’t got a horse to spare for you y/n.”

“I got that covered Rip.  Got one coming up tomorrow from a ranch in Wyoming.  Some fuckin’ old school boys who don’t know how to be nice to a horse they didn’t ruin,” she explained, “man’s wife broke it and now she’s dead ain’t no one gonna ride him gentle.  Figured he might stand a chance with me.”

Lloyd chuckled, “always were a soft hand.  Figured that’s how you won it all.”

“Guess that question that remains is, do you have a place for me?  Not in the house but here,” she clarified.

Lee looked at Rip then back at his sister, “I reckon so.  You gonna stay in the bunkhouse?”

“Oh fuck no,” y/n laughed, “I didn’t drag that thing all the way from Texas to sleep with these fuckheads.  It’s looked after me in worse places.  Think it’ll do just fine here.”

[xinamie]

🍵 — part of my design.

pairing: bi-han / sub zero x gn! reader

summary: not everyone understands him and he's aware of that, but he's silently thankful for those who try at least. ♡

tags: more of a short study of him, no dialogue, platonic or more if you want!

The Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was truly a formidable and intimidating force, harnessing his birth right to lead along with his cryomancy. He aimed for grand heights, wanting to be more than mere defenders of the realm. His clan's best interest was always on the forefront of his mind, believing they deserved a higher standing than being shackled and seen as pawns. They were warriors trained for battle, yet that glory he sought out had hindered communication and connections.

Many great consequences had passed; his brothers were no longer by his side, and the Lin Kuei were deemed to have abandoned their intended purpose. He knew this, of course, but he was not one to give up. Any time he would cross paths with his family, he would ask them to join him, though his choice of words may not be what they wish to hear.

One day, the Lin Kuei would get the recognition and status they should have been given. There were some positive outcomes throughout this whole ordeal, however. Cyrax and Sektor were still around, aiding in his efforts and dealing with special projects.

Then, there was you.

Contrary to popular belief, the man had not wronged you in any way. There were times he criticized your forms during training, but was that not his job? His warriors had to be in top shape in order for success! If one couldn't handle being called incompetent from time to time, they would definitely not survive out on the merciless fields.

You were praised for your loyalty and diligence, and in return, you received his respect. Not that he never did before, after all, he was an educated and formal man. He held himself well and even with his rare outbursts due to frustration, he had never cursed loudly. Instead, it was always a rather chilling tone, authority seeping through and making even the best warriors tense up.

Today was a good day by all means.

Training had gone well, meals were warm and fulfilling, and pristine uniforms had been cleaned, pressed and distributed as usual.

You were able to catch a glimpse of the Grandmaster when the sun was about to succumb to the moon. He was in his usual attire, fitting to his form and proper by all standards. The only trait that seemed out of place were the strands that escaped his bun, resting across his forehead naturally. It made you wonder if that was a choice too; does he purposefully style his hair like that every morning or was it due to the activities he busied himself with?

Regardless, it was a nice touch compared to the rest of his composure.

He had been pouring a cup of tea, Pu'er to be exact as it was one of his favorites, when you noticed he had been staring right back at you. His eyes shifted to the low table before him where his cup and an additional one were seated.

An invitation.

The gesture was subtle, but you would be a fool not to accept it. You made your way over to him, carefully folding your legs against the mat. He offered you the spare cup, only partially filled with the brew.

That simple notion was another aspect to consider as a tea cup filled to the brim held a particular meaning. The fact that it was not the case meant he most likely wanted you to stay longer and enjoy the tea with him.

No words were exchanged as the two of you allowed the warmth to take over, and one thing was for certain.

Despite what others may say, your Grandmaster was an honorable man.

[yuurei20]

Dialogue Comparison: Cloudcalling Event (pt3/3)

Original Vil: Pawns are pieces that can only move one space at a time, aren't they.

EN Vil: The least valuable pieces on the board...

Original Vil: ...I take back what I said. You behave yourself.

EN Vil: ...I take back what I said. You just hang back and look pretty.

Original Lilia: How boring. I thought I could give Leona a ride on my shoulders.

EN Lilia: What a drag. I thought you could give me a ride on your shoulders, Leona.

Original Leona: Last is Lilia, huh...I think it's pretty rare for that man to lose, but...

EN Leona: Oh yes, that's what we talked about. I remember.

(As this same line appears again very shortly after, it was possibly just a copy-paste mistake by EN rather than an intentional change to the content of the game.)

Original Leona: Gonna grab some grub. EN Leona: Hungry.

Original Kifaji: Grub! Do not use that sort of language in front of Cheka-sama, please! EN Kifaji: Hungry? Surely you're not leaving to eat at a time like this!

(For the curious, Leona's original line is literally just the word "meshi." A casual word for "food" or "meal," it is the same "meshi" as "Delicious in Dungeon (Dungeon Meshi). )

("Food" would be a more literal translation, but there was also potential for a "grubs" joke! "Grub" is how it was localized in Leona's Liongarb vignette.)

“Be prepared” is a verbal tic of Leona’s, which he repeats often.

In this event it was written as “be ready,” “I do hope you’re prepared” and “You were warned.”

The phrase is often removed or changed on EN, being directly translated as “Be Prepared” possibly only once, towards the end of Book 6, but in the original game it is generally the same phrase.

It is a direct reference to the Japanese-language version of the Lion King musical. While Scar uses different wording in the original animated movie, in the musical his line is identical to what Leona repeats so often in the original game.

[funishment-time]

How do you go about resolving the tension between the characters of V3 and their "ultimate real fiction"ality? Like, on one hand, a fic about Kibo and his inventor bonding sounds cute, but on the other hand, that canonically didn't happen. His inventor is some props guy on the Danganronpa team that he never met.

disclaimer that this is just my Personal Interpretation of V3's ending:

considering Tsumugi flat-out objectively lies a bunch of times while explaining her master plan or whatever, i personally think she is not telling the whole truth. whether or not she knows that is up for debate, but regardless, this + holes in Rantaro's story + the rules of cospox puts a lot of the "backstory" stuff into question. so, to me, we have no idea of knowing whether or not Keebo is or isn't Idabashi's beloved rolling son.

(i won't get into my full explanation here, but my headcanon from a few pieces of dialogue folks forget is that V3's universe is the HPA universe's opposite land: Ultimates get/got special legal privileges like voting [!] so seeing them get cut down is cathartic and ecstatic for the general public. there is indeed a reality show, but there was also really an Ultimate Hunt. their game selves are their real selves, and Moogs doesn't know she's a pawn. but anyway.)

also, i rarely consider the V3s in the context of their own game, for a couple reasons:

i first met them in Summer Camp, so my initial thought of them is always a sweet peaceful AU with the rest of the franchise where their backstories are played straight, and

i think splitting V3 off into its own AU (or "setting reboot" as Kodaka called it) was kind of a weird ineffective writing move.

so me? i just assume the backstories are canon to a certain degree. it's more interesting to me that way...again, IMO.

thank you for the question!

[arisenreborn]

There's no controlling the silly things Pawns do in our world or across the Rift, but I thought it might be fun to share some headcanons about how they might act.

Pawn Behaviors - Beyond the Rift

❖ BEHAVIORS & HABITS: 

❖ COMMON: 

Self-explanatory,

the things you're gonna see them doing the most,

probably in line with their inclination

➵ UNCOMMON:

Things you might witness under slightly rarer circumstances

or after you've been traveling together for more than a few days,

probably more of their Arisen’s deeper influence]

➵ RARE:

Witnessed under some of the most extreme or odd of situations. 

➵ DRAGONSPLAGUE: 

Would they have any tells unique to them when suffering Dragonsplague?

❖ THOUGHTS & OPINIONS: 

➵ THE ARISEN:

How they regard the Arisen in general

And how that impacts the way they act towards them

➵ OTHER PAWNS:

How they might interact with other pawns

➵ WORLD:

Things they might say while traveling,

or seeing particular sights.

➵ BATTLE: 

How are they normally in battle?

VS do they have any particular foes that evoke unique reactions out of them?

➵ NPC's: 

Do they have specific reactions around any particular NPCs?

➵ QUESTS: 

Any unique dialogue or actions concerning specific quests?

➵ BONUS: 

Anything extra or specific to them that might not quite fit anywhere else?

[raayllum]

since Finnegrin sorta took Aaravos’s place in the rayllum development this season, was wondering if you had any parallels between the two figures specifically? :D

Oh yeah, for sure!!

There's the way they both have this almost gentlemanly, still too sinister to be entirely pleasant but like... calmer outer demeanour? But something cruel and volatile lurking right underneath when they get pissed that will be brutally unleashed if you dare disobey in a way that offends or presents an obstacle to them.

There's their associations with keys and threes (three quasar diamonds, three main mage pawns, three glowtoads, three keys to Finnegrin's door) in addition to being a clearly more rare kind of elf compared to the rest. There's the way they don't actually tend to fight their own battles, per se, but instead use vessels/pawns - for Aaravos, it's his collection of mages, and for Finnegrin, it's Elmer. Ownership and control go hand in hand with both of them. As Finnegrin says, "The chains are just for show," which feels very indicative of Aaravos' whole "I could just possess any of the dark mages in my collection, but I choose to bolster and manipulate them instead" and their reliance on fear.

But the big one, and the reason why I say I can swap them, is that the core prediction I had regarding Callum-Aaravos-Rayla just came true with Finnegrin swapped in for Aaravos - because Finnegrin is pushing forward and developing similar kinds of dilemmas I imagined along the exact same thematic axis those predictions were built off of: control vs freedom tethered together by love.

To me, Callum having a Key of someone who's imprisoned (and its majority negative associations in arc 1, i.e. being the symbol of temptation and dark magic in Callum's fever dreams) as well as Callum's own associations with freedom (wings like Icarus, the sky arcanum, emphasis in lines of dialogue, etc) seemed like an obvious through line of Callum playing into Aaravos' future machinations and setting the Startouch elf free, for some reason (or at least, foreshadowing being unable to stop him). People doing terrible things for love was a smaller undercurrent in arc 1 (largely with Claudia for her family, and Harrow out of grief with Sarai) and Rayla was the reason Callum had the cube in the first place, at risk to herself, so all those things compounded into Callum, under coercion, doing something he deemed terrible but necessary in order to save Rayla being held hostage/captive, no matter the risk.

S4 just added to this in major ways (and S6 could bring it, wildly enough, wholly to fruition - although I could see the 'captive' part be replaced easily with a fatal wound), largely due to the scene between Callum and Rayla in 4x07:

C: I'm not afraid [Aaravos will] hurt me. I'm afraid that he'll use me, to do awful things, or hurt people I care about.

However, it was always very clear to me that if it came to doing an awful thing or saving his loved ones, Callum would 100% always choose doing the awful thing to save his loved ones. And everything Callum was scared of here due to the lack of freedom and autonomy are things that literally happened in 5x08 thanks to Finnegrin.

Callum frames his relationship with Aaravos as one that's an inherent loss of freedom/control: "When Aaravos possessed me, back at the Storm Spire, I felt so weak and out of control." This is also the level of identity, of someone being able to use his body and strip away his voice - "I was his puppet".

Finnegrin's conversations with Callum centre around a similar theme, but he makes the initial mistake in trying to motivate Callum with his own freedom: "Just one dark magic spell, and you go free." He ignores Callum's obvious signs of 'weakness' ( "Tell me where my friends are") by assuming Callum is interested mostly because he wants to be free: "They won't be springing to your rescue" even when that's hardly what he cares about.

He identifies that Callum is deeply attached to his personal loyalties, but I can see Finnegrin thinking he's doing Callum some sort of twisted favour, in giving him the opportunity to sell out for his own freedom and leave his friends out to dry. (Love is weakness, after all. Shouldn't you want to prune yourself from weakness?)

The fact that Finnegrin is targeting Callum specifically because 1) Callum is a mage, 2) in relation to dark magic (when that was Aaravos' in, too) and 3) out of revenge (against an archdragon who's spared restricted him, and Aaravos wants revenge for his imprisonment & against the Startouch elves for also sparing but banishing/felling him) just furthers these thematic connotations between Finnegrin and Aaravos.

+ Bonus framing used to make it look like Callum is the one also in a cage, and a framing technique TDP has used before with always framing it so Claudia and Soren are the ones behind bars upon visiting their father in 3x03:

Then, much like Aaravos, Finnegrin baits a defiant Callum into a test ("those who fail tests of love are simple animals") that he's doomed to lose. Finnegrin's control is immediately set up to be exerted over everyone, yes, but Rayla in particular:

Because Finnegrin doesn't actually care about any of the other kids besides Callum. All he wants to do is break Callum's morale so that the boy will give up the information he needs, whether that's by trying to force Callum to pick someone to lose a hand (which the others remove as a coercive tactic) or by trying to get him to do dark magic again because as he says "You'll do anything for them."

But this, of course, is a false pretense. A lie. If Callum had done it here (and the show seems to imply he would have, or was seriously considering it), all Finnegrin would've had to do was use his blood spell to incapacitate everyone else. This is also an interesting point of note in some ways too, because technically... the episode could've just ended here.

Think of it this way: the overall structure of the episode is to get Callum's back against the wall so he uses dark magic, and accepts that he would use it, so he can gain a deeper understanding of himself and access the Ocean arcanum, leading to him throwing off Finnegrin's ice spell. Right? That's the Plot structure stuff that had to happen. If that was all that they wanted, you could do it in these scenes. The main cast would know Callum had done dark magic, which is the major difference, but surely wouldn't hold it against him. Callum could've done dark magic to get their chains off, could've had an impromptu Ocean arcanum realization, and things could've played out exactly as they do in the final scenes of the episode.

The episode could end here, but it doesn't, because well...

The writers chose to make him give up the information and do dark magic, specifically, to save Rayla. That's what they wanted. That's the relationship they chose to emphasize. Not the group dynamic, or one of the others (Soren or Ezran, mostly, as contenders), but for Rayla. Just like what I always expected Aaravos to prey upon too, even before and definitely after Callum and Rayla's talk in 4x07.

But Finnegrin still miscalculates, still not quite understanding that this isn't enough to keep Callum under control. If anything it spurs him further into continually more violent, escalating action: punching Finnegrin, giving up the spell (control), and when both of those prove futile, using dark magic to free himself (freedom) so he can save Rayla (love). And all of these lead him to the ocean arcanum: "To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep [...] the Ocean arcanum is accepting there are depths you can't see."

Callum already didn't like doing dark magic, but as he says, "I had to, to save my friend(s)" and now he knows what that cost him: the threat of hurting his loved ones because doing dark magic has let Aaravos possess him. And here, as indicated by the intro change being the Callum pawn one, Callum has played into Aaravos' hands - at least marginally. He's accepted this darker side of himself, his willingness to do anything for the people he loves (including keeping secrets and trying to be "strong alone") - the part of him that Aaravos has arguably known all along. Remember those Tests of Love? Yeah Callum just passed one.

By and large, Finnegrin is a smaller, less smart stand in for Aaravos in 5x08. Revenge driven, focused on control and coercion, unnecessarily cruel, and willing to do anything to get what he wants - forcing Callum into the corner and subsequent choices for the person he Loves, as I predicted. (And there will probably be future parallels between Callum and Elmer regarding being pawns and breaking free and identity, but again: post for another day.) The fact that Callum's had this identity arc running throughout S4 and S5 ("Oh, I know [high mage] is my formal title, but you can just call me by my regular name" -> "I don't know how to feel about Rayla either" -> "I'm afraid, Rayla. What if I'm a path of darkness? -> "I have to go after him" "I know" -> "A lot has changed, but not everything's changed. I would do anything for you" -> "I'm not a dark mage" -> ?) and Finnegrin says that seeing Rayla in danger makes him Lose Himself (and Rayla's been setup to also Find Him & break him free of the brainwashing)? Love is a weakness, too, Callum's weakness (and strength). Finnegrin knew it, and I expect Aaravos knows it too, and that we'll see both of sides of the strength-weakness dichotomy come to fruition. TDP loves reconciling its dualities after all.

So yeah, we're in for a deep, wild, emotional ride.

TLDR; Finnegrin takes all of Aaravos' most direct thematic interplay (freedom, control, tests of love) with Callum from S4 and shores it up (pun intended) for the boy in S5, naturally pushing Callum further onto the "path of darkness" that Callum fears and Aaravos is relying on. After all:

Let's see just how far that anything goes, shall we?

[s-soulwriter]

How to write an OC with an big ego!

Ever wondered how to write a character with an ego the size of Mount Everest? Well, look no further! here is how I would do it. ( With examples)

Example person : Alex

Motivations Matter: Behind every egoistic persona lies a set of motivations that drive their actions. Unpack their backstory and understand what fuels their need for validation, power, or attention. Dig deep into their past experiences to unveil the root of their ego.

Example: Alex's ego was a result of childhood struggles, growing up in the shadow of a successful parent. The relentless pursuit of success became a way to prove worthiness, and the glossy exterior was the armor against past insecurities.

Flaws Galore: No one's perfect, and egoistic characters are no exception. Give your character flaws that stem directly from their inflated ego. Maybe they struggle with forming genuine connections or have a tendency to dismiss others' opinions. Flaws make characters relatable and grounded.

Example: Despite the impressive exterior, Alex's ego came with a flaw – an inability to acknowledge the contributions of others. The team's victories were claimed as personal conquests, and any failures were promptly blamed on external factors.

Voice and Dialogue: The way your character speaks is crucial. Egoistic individuals often have a distinct way of expressing themselves. They might be boastful, use grandiose language, or constantly seek attention. Pay attention to their tone, vocabulary, and speech patterns to make their ego shine through.

Example: "I don't build companies; I create empires," Alex declared, the tone commanding attention. Conversations were peppered with grandiose phrases, each sentence meticulously crafted to reinforce superiority.

Internal Conflicts: Explore the internal struggles your character faces due to their ego. Do they ever doubt themselves beneath the façade? Are there moments of vulnerability? Internal conflicts add depth and dimension to your character, making them more than just a one-dimensional ego machine.

Example: Behind closed doors, doubts crept in. Alex wrestled with the fear of inadequacy, wondering if the empire built was as impenetrable as it seemed. Vulnerability lingered, hidden beneath the layers of arrogance.

Show, Don't Tell: Instead of explicitly stating that your character is egoistic, demonstrate it through their actions. Showcase their need for admiration, their competitive nature, or their unwillingness to admit fault. Actions speak louder than words, especially in character development.

Examples: Rather than outright stating achievements, Alex casually dropped impressive anecdotes into conversations, leaving others in awe. The need for constant validation manifested in the subtle but unmistakable bragging woven into everyday dialogue.

Relationship Dynamics: Consider how your egoistic character interacts with others. How do they treat people they perceive as beneath them? How do they handle competition? Explore the dynamics they create in relationships to reveal facets of their ego.

Examples: Subordinates were either loyal subjects or inconsequential pawns in Alex's eyes. Competitors were met with thinly veiled disdain, each encounter a battle for supremacy. The wake of shattered professional relationships told tales of a cutthroat ambition.

Redeemable Qualities: Even the most egoistic characters can have redeemable qualities. It's essential to humanize them by showcasing moments of kindness or vulnerability. This complexity makes your character more interesting and adds layers to their personality.

Example: In rare moments, Alex's guard slipped, revealing a philanthropic side. A secret fund for employees facing hardships, a gesture that contradicted the public image. These glimpses hinted at a person beneath the towering ego

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

the counterpart

chapter 3 — and there’s affection to rent

rating: explicit. i’m sensing a smut chapter approaching.

word count: 2,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

cw: 90s au. they’re still playing chess, drinking, smoking, cussing, fucking (not yet, but eventually) and doing all the things you’re not allowed to read about if you’re not old enough. this chapter is just… pure dialogue and (not so subtle anymore) sexual tension, and i finally revealed their majors (took me long enough). consider this part a teaser. yeah.

ao3 link

part 4

—

What’s the most important thing one learns in college if their major is painfully tasteless? Especially if said one is a lost girl — all ambitions, but no actual possibilities, kidneys so done with your rebellious acts of liquor consumption they might fail you much earlier than they did Bobby Fisher?* 

Your professors taught you how to come up with an intriguing title. How to make sure your column is the most eye-catching on the whole page. How to journal properly, and how to not be a pussy when you’re interviewing someone hard-talk style — taught you how to bend over people and for people.

Those were petty things. Undoubtedly crucial for your education, yet still petty. They didn’t teach you how to live. They just made you sleazy and more sleep-deprived. The first trait could still be put to a good use, though. 

But college? Oh, college taught you how to live. Not the beautiful concept of being a part of it, but the campus itself, specifically the dorms — your self-proclaimed, crude lectors. They showed you everything you needed to know: from friendly faces coated in thick smoke on the tiny balcony, to sweaty ones, all rolled out tongues and glassy eyes — the disgusting art of bathroom quickies. 

But most importantly?

College taught you there are five types of men you have to stay away from: bishops, knights, rooks, cowards (kings) and pawns (your favorite ones to devour). 

Bishops are mouthy. They’re harsh — vile, even. Greedy heartbreakers, easily irritable when something refuses to get out of their oblique, grabby path. Mediocre in bed: unnecessary rough, redundantly rude in dirty talk. Terrified of any feeling that doesn’t involve hatred or malice. Smartasses (in a bad way). Pass. 

Knights are immature. They have potential — a contentious one, to be frank, yet it’s still there, slightly palpable in their endless promises and occasional gentlemanly habits. They’re deeply insecure — self-conscious, even, always underestimating their power. A good base for raising the perfect partner — if only you have the patience to spare, that is. Not as unbearable in bed as the previous category. Sometimes they cook great breakfast the morning after.

Rooks are superior. Straightforward, yet humorless; good listeners, yet awful comforters — oh that constant lack of the golden mean, the complete inability to lie. They’re reliable, but not fun to sleep with. Not fun to date either — it’s almost like these men paired for life, invariably with someone as insufferably stable as their stoic demeanor. You still liked them though; but only as a rare, handsome dainty — an audience perfectly suited for your drunken monologues. 

Kings and pawns are not worthy of being elaborated on. Skittish and obedient, former ones too selfish in bed, ladder ones too pathetically down bad. Finita la commedia. 

In conclusion: one should play with those pieces, yet strictly avoid committing to them — to save the tears when you make an invariable sacrifice. 

That thought spun inside your head — doomed and stupidly petulant, recycling itself slowly to a flavourless overchewed gum on the convex surface of your tongue, persistently threatening to jump out of your mean mouth any second. You wondered — shamefully, with an almost shy tredipation, — how would Viktor react to this  incredible wisdom of your creation, how comical — or plausible, perhaps? would he find this metaphorical conclusion to be? 

But you refrained from revealing it to him just now. No, you couldn’t care less about invoking a potential little discussion — not when he’d just returned to the still equipped with a chess board desk, and certainly not when your hand was settled so perfectly into the tender grasp of his. A set of longer, paler fingers twined oh so cautiously around your wrist, securely preventing it from any occasional twitches. Tending to your wound with special gentleness — as if he was constructing a fragile weapon, a thing dangerous enough to explode all over the place if he treats it with something bolder than a ghost of a touch. So concentrated: he pressed the tiny piece of cotton to the bloody mess under what once used to be your nail; shushing you softly when you flinched, feeling the saline lance right through the weak digit. 

“Stay still for me, would you?” Viktor frowned, carving an angry little stroke into the back of your palm — a firm affection just for you to giggle about. The ambience around him didn’t resemble the one libraries usually possess anymore. It was an appointment now, and you adored the way he turned the place into a makeshift clinic with just a few quickly grabbed from the pharmacy trinkets. 

“For you?” you pulled a taunt — an innocent one, yet utterly unsubtle in its intentions. 

“Well, I’m your doctor,” he wreaked vengeance with a playful protest, elegantly twisting your implication. A reciprocation, of sort; a playful thing returning every single one of your tortuous undertones. “It’s only natural that you listen to the professional’s recommendations.” 

He wasn’t clueless anymore. He wanted to proceed. He begged to proceed, actually; grazed your forearm approbatory and dull, then dared to crawl into the sleeve of your shirt. Just the briefest presence of fingertips under the cloth — peak intimacy only a library could provide. 

“But I’m not quite deceased yet, and last time I checked — you were a mortician,” — a shot back, witty and precise. Had him chuckling warmly as you raised your head, allowing the copper to meet your irises with a playful tingle. 

“Believe me, I can be versatile,” Viktor assured, only giving you half a tease to work with, to unravel. Submitting his gentle touch and returning to the medical one instead, carefully pulling out a patch out of his pocket after a short session of rummaging around.

“Oh, I already figured that much,” you allowed him to lead — both literally and figuratively, careless about the way he victoriously pointed out the flush on your face — barely as crimson as the disaster he cleaned up for you, yet still pleasantly noticeable. 

That boy was no usual rook, knight or bishop of yours. Needless to mention something as fearful as a pathetic king.

There was something slightly pawn-like about him though — but you didn’t hate it like you normally would. You didn’t mind a little submission. You adored it. You wanted him at your mercy. Erotically so, to be precise. As if him wrapping a patch around your swollen finger isn’t erotic enough already.

Although it wasn’t mercy that made him care for you. 

It was tenderness. A thing all the five-types-one-should-avoid were not capable of on their own. 

Viktor broke the silence with a strangled little cough. 

“It might ruin your nail-polish,” he warned, eyes flickered between you and already tinted with a humble red spot patch. 

“As if there’s any nail left to apply the polish to,” you hissed, wincing at the sharp sensation stinging that sensitive piece of skin — no doubt staining the fresh little rag even more. Viktor tried to ease your suffering with an almost friendly pat on your shoulder. 

What a way to ruin the eroticism. 

“A tragedy, if you ask me,” he whispered, short and sweet, with a contrite little sigh, “you messed up a perfectly nimble hand.” 

“You don’t know the first thing about compliments, do you, Viktor?” you pricked back, harmless and waggish; a careless, erratic thing, — already too far gone to stop those lively amber eyes from scanning you with terrified unease: had he said something stupid? Had he failed in humoring you? 

You pulled him firmly straight out of the paralysis of his distress, fingers yanked gently at his to put them — now skittish and a little tense — back into an intertwinement with yours, demanding they linger there, safe and tender. 

“I’m getting there,” he budged, slowly growing less fidgety against your touch, “Forgive me, I’m yet to master the art of courting.” 

“I’m fucking with you,” you reminded handily. Watched him form a theatrical little scoff, but his teeth betrayed him, leaping out in an impish smile. 

“Of course you are. You journalists love to torment people,” Viktor nodded, slightly tickling the underside of your palm with a relaxed swipe of a thick-skinned thumb. 

You didn’t take it personally. You didn’t fancy your major enough to get defensive. 

You didn’t question how exactly he found out about it either. His answer — tanned, handsome and talkative — was most likely rotting in bed right now, still half-alive from his birthday black-out even though it’s been literal days. Besides: if Viktor were to ask how did you find out that he’s an exceptional future engineer or that he’s a winner of multiple open chess championships — you’d send him straight back to Jayce too. The source was obvious. 

“You know what I’m majoring in? Did you make a dossier of my poor persona?” you chose that torment instead. At his service, you gave the man precisely what he’d requested.

A thoughtful one, a pretty disgrace at his whim. 

He should’ve been more careful with his desires. 

“You’re not a project of mine to keep a dossier for you,” he reproached smoothly. “Unless…” his tongue clicked in thick suspense, “you’d allow me to make one. For collecting kompromat, of course — a procedure every opponent should adhere to.” 

“Kompromat?” 

“Yes, kompromat,” Viktor confirmed, unaltered. 

“But I’m innocent,” — a cheeky lie, blatantly obvious. Had him squeezing your hand to prevent you from sliding out of his grasp, all too tight for a man that shrinked into a handsome flustered mess at your first attempt to crawl under his pale skin. Perhaps he simply took his sweet time in comprehending that he’s allowed to be vengeful. 

“A cruel woman, mercilessly flirting with her opponents to bribe them into resignation?” he deadpanned, evidently pleased with a newly established privilege of savoring your touch for however long he pleased. “What’s innocent about that?” 

“I’m not trying to bribe you into resignation!” you sneered, now defensive. Pulling away to watch him sigh at the loss of you in his palm — but he didn’t chase after you. Viktor backed off, bitter and respectful, leaving you with just the aftermath of his touch and a blood-stained patch tightly wrapped around your phalanx. 

“You‘re not?” he whispered, suddenly reminded of the library’s policies. 

You soothed him with a nod, following the trajectory of his wandering eyes. Pushing the amused hum back into your mouth as Viktor forced his sleeve to roll up, exposing a worn down watch. Apparently also reminded that he does not, in fact, belong just to you this Friday. 

“I would use more… radical methods if I aimed to bribe you into anything at all,” you laughed out a raspy sound, no doubt feasting upon the way he stirred, wrapping that food for thought with him to go. 

“How reassuring,” he murmured back, brushing his upper lip in a pensive, fleeting lick, eyes darting to your still full of unfinished business board. 

“You’re leaving?” you mumbled rhetorically, hating just how desperate that came out. 

“I’m afraid so, yes,” Viktor mused, reluctantly grabbing the clocks he brought with him, “but I still have to show you the draw. If only we could arrange another meeting.” 

“But we weren’t recording our moves,” you groaned at the silly oversight, watching him rise heavily to his lanky legs, stretching above you into a tall pretty sight. “I don’t trust my memory to that extent.” 

“Well, I do,” he objected, nestling his hand into the arched hilt of his cane, preparing to leave you — lonesome and terribly lacking his calming presence — in the legendary place of your duel. Making a bitter, sad-eyed mess out of you — a devastated subject abandoned in the filled with the smell of yellow pages air. 

But you weren’t exactly known for your unlimited patience. If anything, it was the other way around — you wanted him to indulge you now, to turn on those heels of his and sink back down in his squeaky chair, letting you devour his genius as fervently as you pleased — oh the price you’d pay to dive into his mind, to watch him think, and defeat, and conquer. 

“How does your schedule look on Sundays?” you uttered before your restless brain got the chance to turn it into an overthinked burden. A brave one — you had your eye on him and were determined to make it abundantly clear. 

And Viktor, albeit still discreet, was determined to reciprocate. 

“Normally — not eventful,” he laughed, delaying his departure to spare you one more sweet glance, “but this Sunday I’m playing chess with a remarkably persistent lady. As long as she’ll have me, of course.” 

He gawked at you with the repartee of a complete wiseacre, and you flinched with a giddy giggle, secretly hoping he’d emphasized that last part — or somehow specified it to prevent your mind from spiraling into all the different ways you could have him in. Oh the bitter consequences of being a smartass: sass is contagious and you poisoned him with it, dooming whatever boundaries and clarity this man had possessed before making your acquaintance. 

But it also meant the world was now your oyster. And you took the opportunity by its slender, practically paper-white neck — so far only figuratively, but you wouldn’t be opposed to turning it into something gentle and tangible: if only he consented to it, of course.

“Sunday it is, then. My room, if you’re comfortable?” you suggested, pushing it half-cowardly. 

“I’m not allowed in that part of the dorm,” he marveled at the bold offer, yet his response didn’t imply any objections. 

“And you intend to stick to that?” 

“Of course not.” 

“Then it wasn’t even worth mentioning. Room 505, it’s the one on the second floor…”

“What if I get lost?” 

“Say my name to any freshman-looking girl and they’ll walk you straight to my very door.” 

“Do you have a reputation I should worry about?” 

“Do you ever stop asking irrelevant questions?” you finally snapped, two steps away from turning a gentle neck-grip you fantasized about earlier into a cold-blooded murder in the middle of a college library. “I write essays to earn extra-cash, if you’re that curious. People around the campus know me. Now, back to more urgent matters: please, don’t show up before ten in the morning. No, scratch that — eleven is even better. I like to sleep in on Sundays.” 

Viktor listened to you carefully — with the perception of a responsible server, almost ready to scribble down your every complex instruction, only lacking a salute and a devoted ‘yes, ma’am’ to complete the procedure. 

“It’s been a while since I looked forward to play someone,” he’ll confess to you on his way out of the building, failing to hold that shy thing in the unreliable prison of his gritted teeth, leaning on that thin cane with the whole heavy essence of his trembling audacity. A test he dared to run only before slipping away from that wide-eyed state of yours, escorted by a row of now painfully familiar to you clacks of metal against the concrete. 

And later, when that hot summer day will slowly melt into a hot summer night; when you’ll abandon the comforter of your bed to stick out of the window, half-naked and positively enraged; when you’ll smoke your third cigarette of the hour to tame the riot of aroused nerves — you’ll think about him, and about chess, and about the things chess made you want to do to him. 

—

notes: 

*Bobby Fisher — a grandmaster, the only American chess player to defeat soviet players at the time. Died of kidney failure at the age of 64. 

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @thehistoriangirl @queen-of-elves @vyshnevska

[ravencromwell]

Current Shades Of Magic question haunting me: was Maxim Maresh working a deal with the Danes to make something comparable to an Inheritor for Rhy? (And by "working", I mean: he thought he was being real savvy while the Danes lied through their teeth for years and kept the credulous arnesian king on a fish-hook while they figured out how to rip a hole through time and space.)We know Tieren flatly refused to help him make one, and that Makt is highly skilled in binding magic. And Maxim's entire White London dynamic, especially in Darker Shade, never made a bit of fucking sense to me. Take, as exhibit 1: "Holland delivered a letter yesterday," explained the king. "But couldn't stay to collect the response. I told him I would send it back with you. Kell frowned. "All is well, I hope," he said carefully. He rarely knew the contents of the royal messages he carried, but he could usually glean the tone—the correspondences with Grey London had devolved to mere formality, the cities having little in common, while the dialogue with White was constant and involved and left a furrow in the king's brow." In scrupulous fairness, Schwab does give us an explanation for the involved nature of the letters, saying that the Red Crown was haunted by its decision to seal the doors between Red and White; that they wanted to provide magical advice as a kind of recompense and reparations. But we're also provided a very plausible explanation for how Vitari helps Lila move through the worlds, which gets very undermined by Lila as Antari. And living in the midst of the most nakedly imperial power of our modern age, I'm incredulous at best and scoffingly dubious at worst. With some very! rare exceptions, large, prosperous countries give small struggling ones shit either to look good, or because they want something out of the exchange.

Was it being _haunted that made Maxim Maresh send twelve-year-old Kell into the middle of a very violent country? Or was it _knowing by that time that Rhy most likely wouldn't be manifesting any magic. Kell says to Vortalis that this will be the beginning of "re-opening relations". Which makes sense, seeing as Antari are a dying breed, and Arnes hasn't had one for a while and Makt for even longer. It's not Maxim's bad parenting in sending Kell to White so young that has my antennae raising, but the bad diplomacy. Maxim's Kell flaw, after all, is that he sees him more as a political and propaganda tool than a person. And he's letting him go to Makt at twelve? When Kell could die, and a large reason Faro and Vesk are in line right then is because they believe Kell is integral to Arnes strength. I don't believe Maxim Maresh, who had the political cool to immediately think of how Faro and Vesk would react and demand secrecy about Rhy's near-death in Conjuring while everyone else is in knots of grief and he must be pushing down his own feelings with herculean effort decided to resume communications to salve his conscience. It just doesn't fit with the rest of who he is as king.

But, as several people wonder when Tieren chastises Maxim over the Inheritor: what wouldn't a father do for his son? Put his other son in jeopardy, if he thought he could make an attractive enough offer to get a (probably) ruthless king of a ruthless people to make him something? It would certainly line up with what he does throughout the series.

Finally: Maxim is adamant that "The Danes will pay" before he learns they're dead. Except seriously? How, Maxim? You planning to send the Antari who they already used as a pawn back as a one man army? Because no one else is going through.

Maxim Maresh, for all his faults, is too good a soldier to send Kell into that battle. So, either he's just blowing off steam and the threat has no teeth, or the threat has vicious teeth. Because the Crown has been sending the Danes advice: maybe instructions on relatively—to Arnesian thinking—small elemental magics like minor water redirection that have become integral to Makt's irrigation under the Danes, or something else entirely. There are a million little ways the Crown could've been helping; the question is _why. Why, in Darker, did Maxim, a a busy man, concoct a thick response within a day and send his best weapon into a violent place _after _dark when it could have waited till morning. Feels to me like a man hurriedly running after something the Danes are always "close to finishing" and that he wants, very, very much.

[dd-wyd]

[red-dead-sakharine]

True, Wyd, true. Inventory management is an art form...

more DDII stuff

[valeriefauxnom]

More Dragalia Minor Details!

This time, quotes edition!

I think it's interesting how Leonidas and Phares both have a sort of speech pattern in their unit quote spread as well as their general dialogue. Leonidas is the simpler one to explain, so I'll start with him. He utilizes a lot of 'Perhaps' in his quotes.

Ex, among his Gala and Summer alts, he says:

Perhaps I ought to make arrangements for the decisive battle that awaits. My brother has acquired many useful pawns. His good-naturedness perhaps has merit. Perhaps I'll go surfing. Perhaps curry for supper? Perhaps I will stop in at the cafe.

If I read into it, I might say it is a reflection on his focus on the future. Leonidas is always looking for paths to make his ideals reality, and how he acts in the present is all in fulfillment of his aims. As such, evaluating each action under how it might help said goals might be more on his mind (even when it comes to things like leisure, 'would my goals be hindered if I do so/could I accomplish something to further my aims if I did?'), leading to the overuse of perhaps.

In a broader sense, Leonidas tends to flip-flop verbally between simple, short sentences, rarely busting out the flowing complicated ones one might expect as the standard 'royal' speech patterns. Sometimes he compromises between the two worlds and throws complicated words into short sentences to get his mood across succinctly.

Here's what I mean.

Phares, meanwhile, has his own fixation on a word. Several, in fact. The biggest are 'must' and 'will', but in general sentiment, he has another tendency. It's a bit hard to describe, but while he is future-focused like Leonidas, he expresses it more in concrete terms of what to do, with no true 'deliberation' found in Leonidas' 'perhaps'.

Take these lines from his unit (emphasis mine as I try to illustrate):

My next experiment will be... I must procure a book. I must make record of this. I swear to find a treatment for wyrmscale so the tragedy of our royal family is never repeated. How many times have I envied Valyx's stoutness? I shall have to ask him for some training. I should have died, but was kept alive. My task now is to show the meaning of that to the world. I shall support you. I will not let you die here! I will investigate truth, and contribute to the people until the life granted to me is ended.

Hopefully this helps give an idea of what I mean. There's no real deliberation about his next action; he has already decided, and is dead-set on doing so unless and until it kills him. It's an interesting departure from Leonidas, since Leonidas himself is rather blunt and similarly dead-set at times but still hedges a lot more than Phares.

As for his general speaking style, Phares, whether using short or long sentences, more frames things in a bit of an atypical way than necessarily using complex words all the time. Like, instead of, 'no need to be formal / no need for formalities' he instead will say, 'there is no need for formalities among we fellows of science'. Don't get me wrong, he uses more complex/rarer words often, but they're not an absolute prerequisite to the atypical wording, if you get my drift.

Examples:

(Instead of 'it's okay' or other typical variations)

(Instead of 'don't worry')

To explain these tendencies, I'd simply line it up with his many brushes with death in the recent past. By the end of Phares' adventurer story, he's almost died an additional 2-3 times, and that's not counting his previous issues with wyrmscale and the Progenitor. He knows just how tenuous life is, and yet wishes to do so much in the future to capitalize on the many near-saves he's had. To him, he likely no longer has the luxury of indecision at all: what he wants (to live, to protect his family, the world, to learn more), he will manifest it through determination alone.

Heck, even his adventurer story ends on this, highlighting the 'will' tendency:

So yeah, when I noticed these two had a particular flair to their style of speech, I figured I'd write it down! Maybe I'll find something more for some of the other family members, but these two were the most glaring with the repetition.

[lunar-years]

Curious on your thoughts about Taylor and the Mahomes if you care to share?

well. I certainly find it pretty deplorable to be a Trump supporter! not knowing one single other thing about Brittany Mahomes I strongly dislike her for using whatever platform she has to endorse that man, and I would never choose to be friends with her.

of course I wish Taylor would not closely align herself with Trump supporters. in an ideal world she would not be all bestie-bestie with shitty people. It unfortunately does not surprise me that she takes a "I can be friends with people who do not share my beliefs nor align with all of my values" approach.

It's wild to me that fans try to justify this with a "well we need to be able to have a dialogue with people who disagree with us or else how will we be able to educate them to change their minds!" type of discourse because whilst I do believe this is true, I can also acknowledge that there is an extremely slim chance Taylor is inviting Brittany over to her multi-million dollar mansion for a party and pulling her aside to discuss u.s. politics...like. if we're being honest with ourselves, this group of people are quite likely not spending their time together debating politics at all. they get to be neutral regarding one another's beliefs and "respect different opinions" because they are all coming from a place of incredible privilege where political outcomes rarely effect them or their lifestyles on a grand scale.

As swifties we obviously care most about Taylor and thus frame everything around her, but I find it sort of interesting that no one seems to be holding the same kind of "hold them accountable by association" mentality for Travis or Patrick Mahomes. I do not follow any of these people but there are certainly fans who are all affectionate about travis and patrick's friendship and cheering on patrick at the same time they're (rightfully) slamming his wife on their social media fan pages.. Not to go out on a limb but um... I'm gonna guess there is a non-zero chance patrick and brittany are politically aligned! But nobody much seems to care about that, it's just brittany [and Taylor by extension] they have a problem with? And actually I've seen a lot of weird twisted justifications about why travis and patrick should "clearly" be allowed to continue to be friends but taylor needs to cut brittany entirely out of her life or else she's cancelled. ...just interesting!

it sucks that the more we talk about brittany the more we keep her at the forefront and give her and her terrible beliefs extended visibility and exposure. It equally sucks that trump has latched on to her support and is promoting it with the obvious and barely masked motive of claiming Taylor's support by extension. it sucks that Taylor is being used as a pawn in that way. I certainly wish she would make the choice to stop hanging on with brittany and be more politically outspoken to combat this tactic, but I'm also realistic that she's probably not going to. At the end of the day, I still like her anyway.

Taylor has previously befriended and interacted with people I find equally unsavory. obviously matty is exhibit A. she's also longstanding friends with L*na D*nham, which I continue to find questionable! This sort of discourse has been going on for a decade in the fandom and as a result I've made the personal choice to be here at the end of the day for Taylor alone and not her friends. I basically pay no attention to any of them unless I have an interest in them independently of her, which would be very very few of them. I do however understand and respect if other people feel differently on matter.

going off of that, everyone's got to have their own hard line. my personal hard line would be if Taylor herself ever started endorsing Trump or republican & MAGA values. However, at the moment I still feel I know enough about to her and the values she has repeatedly upheld over the years to conclude that Trump's values are not her own.

this is a very long, not articulate mind dump to basically say: I don't like that she's friends with brittany/the mahomes. i wish she wouldn't be. yes it's a bad look for her. but i am still going to remain a Taylor Swift fan.

[seawardboundsammy]

If it’s not too much trouble, can I have 3 and 4 from the step asks game for all ur steps? (I like villain name rational LOL) Or just a couple of them!

of course you can!

3. what is their villain name? why did they choose it?

Arbor: Refutation. this one was purely self indulgent. I love the word refutation and the idea of being stalwart, refusing to budge even an inch. arbor chose it because theyre still doing what they think is right (anarchist) but refusing to do it in the way dictated by the rangers

Pelican: King. One of my fave of my step names, they chose this cause they wanted to force everyone, especially their enemies, to revere them whenever they spoke of them. Pelican is nonbinary but masc presenting so i went with king instead of regent or smth. Also they call their mob "The King's Knights" even though he thinks of them much more like pawns

Thistle: Briar. I originally thought about Thicket but that felt too close to his actual name. Briar fit the flower theme and also draws back to Sleeping Beauty which thistle definitely likes the pink of and also the fairytale princess. Also he thinks Briar fits how it feels to get close to him. just looking back at the stats and oh yeah his v name was originally Undertow! I was thinking of doing an ocean theme and then went all in on flowers (though im def still gonna use undertow as a name sometime)

Faruq: Rook. It's the second syllable of his name. He's the bluntest man alive and totally expects Steel to catch onto his shit and doesnt care. He acts like a rook (straight direct lines with a clean goal) and it also fits how he's still trying to support and help (train them herohunter)

Rory: Heartbreak. They want it to hurt. They want Ortega to know how much he failed every time he turns on the tv, every time he has to talk about the villain on the rise. They want people to be scared, to wonder if theyre gonna be just as bad, and prove that theyre going to be worse. I personally wanted to see the dialogue for if you choose that name.

Nayeli: Estoc. Now this one was by far the weakest. I knew i wanted to romance argent so i chose a sword name and i just. couldnt find anything more fitting. Nayeli is a tech thief and i never quite locked down her theme as much as the others (eg. regal, flower, knight) so i honestly want to give her a better name as some point.

4. what does their villain armor look like? what is their typical style of dress?

Arbor: I think im gonna switch their armor to functional with a cape cause they are really not terrifying. their armor is p agile (tele boost and jump jets) and their cape has an almost heroic flair. normally they wear a long sleeve shirt with a tee-shirt over top and a pair of army surplus green cargo pants. oh and their signature sunglasses!

Pelican: thats a king baby! conqueror with cape, its a bit bulkier to add to the intimidation (extra armor). it literally has a crown built into the helmet. he's such an egotistical bitch. on the day to day they wear expensive suits, typically in brown, and probably looks far to much like HG.

Thistle: pretty lithe mirror suit, built to slip into places unnoticed. He often wraps himself in his cape to conceal himself even more. he wears very cute pink clothes, typically a frilly white shirt with a pink cropped cardigan and a pain of light brown pants or a loose skirt. he and pelican are the most appearance conscious of my steps and thistle is by far the more neurotic about it.

Faruq: thats an armor suit. enhanced strength and armor, no cape. he is very much a parallel to steel and a practical guy so there's definitely a resemblance between their suits. he wears pretty standard second hard comfortable clothes but does take good care of his beard and locs (which on very rare occasions he will put cuffs in)

Rory: terrifying massive armor, shredded cape. you cant see their face obviously but in stillness it feels like they never blink. this thing cracks concrete just walking over it. rory wears a yellow shirt over an orange sweater and a long brown skirt with black boots. thats pretty much all they wear.

Nayeli: similar to thistle's mirror suit, her's is more black than mirror silver and tries to hide her frame but doesnt have a cape. she super doesnt like people looking at her so her standard style is pretty basic, just a woman who works in an office nothing to see here. her favorite part of her appearance is her long hair which she (tries) to take good care of.