#seeker carmine

[foxzutheone]

Jesus Christ this is the first time I've draw one of my characters and felt proud uhhh

Seeker Carmine (also known as Scarmine)

She's basically Carmine mixed with her Sinistcha (with a little insanity and cannibalism thrown in there too)

ILL EXPLAIN MY AU EVENTUALLY GUYS IM JUST

BAD AT IT

[lunagames]

I'm of the opinion that Zestial and Carmilla had and have wildly different opinions on Alastor, though Zestial's opinion probably didn't shift all too much overtime.

Now Carmilla is just a bit annoyed at the drama queen that is Alastor, but I do believe that she was concerned at the beginning of his appearance. Like dude just took out half her meeting room of overlords in a matter of weeks, that ain't fitting into her statistics. She likes control, she likes knowing what will happen and planning for it.

So, she probably met with Zestial to discuss this in a 'is this a normal problem or something we need to do something about'-way only to be met with a 'funniest thing to have happened in three centuries' banner.

[hazelkjt]

No thoughts, head empty tonight, have a Lanwa.

[zeedist]

MAD AT HIM .ᐟ — ALHAITHAM

when you're angry at him : summary: you're mad at him. he wants to die. that's it. sfw !! fem!reader x alhaitham, academic setting, several mentions of "i want to die" but playfully [i am not sure if that should be warned, but now you know] word count: 1.2k proofread: yup.

“Hey, Alhaitham,” the blond calls for him. Kaveh squints his carmine eyes, looking at his usually collected friend spilled on the table, head buried in his arms. He forms a question —though it lingers more in him being weirded out rather than worried, “Are you sick?”

He hums. He feels sick. 

“Yeah,” the gray-haired agrees. With a tilt of his head, Cyno calmly remarks, “You look like shit.” 

He grumbles. He feels like shit.

Elongated black ears perk up and twitch the slightest, interest peaking at his clearly disheveled state as Tighnari agrees, “Yeah, you look like you are about to die.” 

He doesn’t make a sound. He feels like he is about to die.

Eyeing him sideways while placing down a card, the dark-haired ventures to ask, “Did you mess with that weird rat you showed me last time?”

He lets out an offended pff. Like hell he was stupid enough to touch that fucked up rat —one that you, in the kindness of your heart, took in to heal and take care of; and one he couldn’t wait to chug back into the wild. Seriously, that thing was weird. 

“Of course not,” Tighnari reads through his muffled sound, guessing again, “You caught a cold?”

“That would be a first,” Cyno remarks as he makes his move, chuckling with satisfaction when the blond complains before taking four more cards from the deck. 

“Gah, I was so close to winning,” Kaveh grumbles as he organizes his cards, settling them down. Without resistance, he takes the deck from the miserable man’s hand and plays his turn for him. After double blocking the other two, he smiles smugly and returns to his own deck. Only then does he add to their conversation, joking lightly, “It isn’t like the world is ending, or like your girl is breaking up with you, so what makes you like this?” 

Alhaitham makes a sound between laughter and crying. The first thing is happening currently. And if the second ever became a reality, he would have been on raw knees begging for a second chance or he would be digging a hole to bury himself alive in. Maybe both, in that order. 

The other three continue their game —taking turns to play his part—, trying to nudge a response out of him with questions and little jokes. After several attempts and only receiving incoherent and downcast grumbles as a reply, they gave up on trying to make him speak it out. Minutes smoothly pass, the round ending with Kaveh holding half of the deck. Their conversation starts drifting from their days to their current projects, still trying to rope in Alhaitham with questions he only shook his head to. In the end, it’s Tighnari that carries the dialogue, sharing about a research that he is carrying out about a newly discovered sub-species of a fungi. 

And it isn’t that he’s arrogant or an attention-seeker, Alhaitham simply can’t place the turmoil inside of him with words. How is he even supposed to explain the pit in his stomach right now? 

His entire existence [you] crumbles into dust, disintegrating like fragile debris slipping through weakened fingers [ignoring him] as if the universe itself is conspiring to forsake him. All because of one unforgivable misstep —a moment of tragic weakness when exhaustion claimed him [he dozed off in the library when he was supposed to meet up with you] and made him fail you. Now, the very foundation of his world is unraveling, rotting from the core, decaying into nothingness beneath the weight of his regret. 

He decays. He rots. He hopes he dies. 

Only when Tighnari comments to him that he should bring you along to hear to his presentation, Alhaitham lifts his head, hands dragging across his face as he mumbles out with a hoarse voice, “She is upset at me. I think I should go die now.” 

“Oh, what did you do?” Kaveh asks, sincerely worried now. Though his hands keep mixing the deck of cards, preparing to deal them for another round. 

“I didn’t sleep at all last night and passed out when I was supposed to see her,” he replies, sounding so miserable even he cringes at his own roughened voice. But he continues, knot on his throat as he grimaces, “And now she won’t even reply to my messages.” 

“Oh shit,” Cyno comments, very helpfully. 

“Have you tried looking for her?” Tighnari offers, very helpfully. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t exactly look panicked, “I am sure she will understand if you apologize sincerely.”

“I left her waiting for so long,” Alhaitham sighs, heavy and annoyed with himself, flopping his head back down to the table and lamenting, “And I never showed up. I want to die.”

“If you do, can I perhaps keep your body for study purposes—”

“Cyno!”

“What? I can't stop him, look at him, Nari.” 

The ever composed student with a straight posture and grades, slumped and sulking as if he prayed the ground would split and swallow him straight to hell. Time doesn’t allow him too much of his self-hating session, though, as the break reaches its end and the shattering sound of bells ringing throughout the cafeteria announces it. 

Kaveh sighs as he gathers the cards he just dealt back into their deck —an elegant way to refer to the barely-holding together package it originally came with. It now held on masking tape and their suffering. He stuffs the item inside his briefcase, locking it with a click before he stands up. With a low sigh, he offers his miserable friend a pat in the shoulder, “It’ll be okay, you guys will talk it out. Gotta go now, my professor will skin me alive if I arrive late again. See ya!”

Alhaitham manages to murmur a goodbye right as the blond waves and runs away. Always rushing, always late. Tighnari found this amusing again, chuckling at that as he collects their trash from the table to throw away on his way out. With a pat on the shoulder and a gentle smile, he tries to reassure him with, “It’s not unfixable. Think it out and apologize.” 

He thanks him for his sincere words, though his chest stirs with an unhappy feeling. It isn’t fear, he isn’t afraid. Your relationship had been going strong since the first moment, steadily growing closer with everyday you spent together. He trusts you, trusts the bond you share. He can say he loves you now. Which is precisely why it breaks his heard so much to fail you like this. 

Cyno watches him returning to his sulking form, sighing heavily while brushing his hand through faded locks. He’s torn, not knowing exactly how to comfort or advise him, so he does what he can. With a nudge to his arm, he asks, “Want me to walk you to your next lesson?”

Alhaitham remains silent for a second, before grumbling, “The love of my life is mad at me. I’ll die now, thank you.” 

[dipplinduo]

I never post my headcanons because I tend to integrate them into stories, but I also love me some mintteashipping content and wanna work on spreading the propaganda. So:

Headcanon: Drayton is a bit of a thrill seeker at times, but he mostly does stupid shenanigans around Carmine to provoke her and get her attention. Carmine, in a very flustered - but angry tsundere way - starts shouting at him and pulling at him because she's worried he'll hurt himself. Little does she know it inadvertently reveals her feelings in the process. 😂

Kieran: Hey sis, are you dating Drayton now or something??? 🤨

Carmine: W-WHAT?! NO. WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT???

Kieran: You just seem to be naggin' him a lot, and lately it's like you're very attentive to his every-

Carmine, now distracted: DRAYTON. GET AWAY FROM THERE!

Drayton: But I could totally jump that far. 😎

Carmine, now running: DRAYTON!

Kieran, left behind: ...movement. 😐

[thekillermaretwinz]

Since im bored imma just put Dawn's Voiceclaim right here I choose Carmilla Carmine because it just suited Dawn to me

I know the Carmilla Carmine Simps will come running 😭

Dawn is what Swap!Solar will be refered to as.

@escapetheslaughter @animatronic-assistant @liminal---nightmare-aliza @coastxlwaters @gremlininthedark @sillytwofaceboi @multifandomcutie13 @meowierz @seraphim-seeker moots get over here

[paperpepperfrog]

Okay, this is an unusual format for me. I'm used to writing on the table, but I don't think anything terrible will happen... Probably.

I've been thinking for a long time about how G1 Jetfire/Skyfire and Starscream split up and... like, what? Skyfire is almost twice as big as Starscream, why was IT blown to the Earth? It should be stronger and more powerful several times, my stupid brain does not understand.

Therefore, I decided to imagine what would have happened if not Starscream, but Jetfire got to Cybertron unharmed and the consequences of this replacement. Starscream did not study at the military academy. He didn't know Megatron. He didn't know about the Decepticons. He didn't betray anyone.

A scientist full of ambition and hope who has no place in this carnage. Who has missed too much in this life.

Generation 1, Episode 7 of season 1.

Small planes tolerate the cold worse. And falls. Starscream is a small plane.

Megatron doesn't get high coddling the found seeker. Why would he do anything with it at all? Unfreezed, and then let him choose where to go - to the dump of history or under the command of Thundercracker.

Edelweiss 1/???

The pedipulators jerked convulsively. A discharge of current pierced the body. The audio sensors registered something besides static noise. The processor flashed in pain. The frostbitten hull jerked, shedding a crust of ice. Water, water and ice in the systems instantly boiled, threatening to overload the so-broken chassis.

- Ten million volts! Not enough! Fifteen more!

Someone else's voice. Caustic, domineering. Not an acquaintance. Barely focusing on the words, the processor tried to resuscitate the body. Another wave of electricity rebooted the system, which began to work hard.The internal display immediately started working, starting to output old logs and error messages. The last recorded memory file was played with a torn film.

A snow storm in which he got lost and... Was he found?

Oh slug...

Sky...

Of course he's not an idiot. Naive, but not stupid. Of course he came back to save him... They're friends... Even if he dragged the scientist into this mess.

Oh frag, he's no less guilty himself. He flew too low, did not take into account the nature of the weather, but he warned ...Usually he tried to stay close to a more powerful comrade, so that it would be easier to fly, but apparently not this time.

The storm wave blew him to the side, everything spun, he remembered how he screamed in a desperate attempt to resuscitate the failed control, it seems at one painful bright moment he crashed into an ice mass and...

End.

The tape broke. All that was left was the cold, the howl of a blizzard and the mocking white prickly six-pointed stars settled on the optics.

Vector Sigma, how he hates this form now...

— Lord, the processor is showing signs of activity.

Another voice made me perk up. Unfamiliar. Stranger. Mechanized.Who is this?

- One more rank. Twenty million volts!

The optical sensors generated an error while trying to reconnect to the visual channels. With effort, after several attempts, we manage to get a fuzzy picture. The image is full of errors around the edges, but at least you can see something. Ruby optics lit up as another wave of energy pierced the body.The vocalizer creaked with static and glitches in an attempt to squeeze out a word, damn it, how he hates the condensation of water in his throat at this second.

With difficulty, awkwardly, he stood up, groaning dully. Their sensor reluctantly focused on a large dark spot.

- Who... are you?

High. Stately, with carmine eyepieces. Strongly built, noble steel color. The fur looked with noticeable curiosity and irritation. You could even say contempt, and, hey, it's hard to blame him. Perhaps now the pilot looks worse than if he had been thrown under the press a couple of times. At least that's how he feels now. Small and pathetic. How undignified...

- Lord Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. Identify yourself.

...This doesn't look like a rescue team. If he were the worst employee of the quarter, if these bots really are a rescue team. He does not recognize either the equipment or other bots around. A pang of anxiety struck a spark. Where is Skyfire?

His voice wavered.

- Dece... Who? Well... Ugh... I'm... Starscream. Scientist. What...

"Happened? How did it happen that no one knows who found him? Where is his big and friendly, cheerful friend-colleague? Who are they, disassemble their module, Decepti... What are they called? Deceptidrons?"

A billion questions swirled in his optics.

He was not allowed to say a word.

- Enough. Stars...cream, you just woke up, but you should know. There is a war going on. The evil Autobots are attacking our ranks, they have destroyed our home, we are suffering from energy deficiency. But we have spent resources on rescuing you, so it is only fair that you become part of our team. Thundercracker will bring you up to date.

I wonder why Starscream doesn’t believe in these aggressive speeches?

Starscream has not yet been in the hands of the abuser of the entire cybertron and has an idea of pride.

I'm trying my best to drive normality into Scream's smart little head. Because THEY'RE FUCKING RAISING THEIR HAND AT YOU, FLYING SPEAKER. WHERE IS YOUR PRIDE???

I love this Starscream. But not perfect, but quite funny.

[simplegenius042]

Late WIP Wednesday & Last Line (Paragraph)

Tagged by: @cassietrn @josephseedismyfather @inafieldofdaisies @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed

Tagging: @strangefable @jillvalentinesday @wrathfulrook @chazz-anova @deputy-morgan-malone @derelictheretic @ec-10 @minilev @josephslittledeputy @neverthesameneveranother @onehornedbeast @shallow-gravy @voidika @vampireninjabunnies-blog @strafethesesinners @ladyoriza @ladyofedens-blog @little-wolf-seed and @nightbloodbix

Here's 3 WIPs and a Last Line Paragraph (from The UnTitledverse, Far Cry The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters) to make up for the lack of activity (I've been a little preoccupied but I'm all good now). NOTE: I'm still ironing out these scenes, so some changes might happen in the future of publication. Anyway, enjoy!

Here's a WIP for A Blast In The Past (not Jurassic World related), a fic that's story was heavily inspired by Bendy And The Ink Machine and writing style inspired by Tamsyn Muir's Harrow The Ninth. Come meet the second main protagonist of The Perfect Storm saga... and the narrator who torments him:

You opened the wooden door to Carmine Studios, the hinges creaking from age and the times you've passed through it, revealing the hall that would seal your fate, on a false hope you would see your old friend and boss, Terrance, once again… but all you had entered was an empty caricature of the real thing. A nightmarish mockery that you'd soon find would come to life. But you didn't know that, not yet. You were more focused on the nostalgia behind your work, weren’t you? Or what once was your work.

In the hallway hung old posters of cartoons that no one cared to remember anymore. You admire it without recognizing the deception. Do you want to know the real kicker here?

It’s all a part of the show… all half-lies and half-truths, but close enough to what you already recognize that you couldn’t tell the difference until it was too late.

Was Seeker the clumsy meerkat who would follow through on any dangerous stunt, regardless of how far it puts his safety in jeopardy, all for what he loved most… a banana waffle split with streams of caramel syrup trailing up and down? No, it was more selfless than that. Nauseously so. Wasn’t it his loyalty to his friends?

Heh. Friendship… what good did that do him in the end, Bowler Hat?

You shift to the next poster, the one you’re least familiar with. Who was she again? An intelligent wisp named after her actress, Emily Margarita? Or perhaps you remember her as something more impersonal… perhaps a cunning foe? Doesn’t matter to you now. All you know is that she was a co-worker who you described as a “nice dame with a great voice, like a canary”.

But you never would have understood why most of the blokes back then howled and whistled for her, even if you knew the truth. “She was no scag,” you’d say, but you’re smart enough to know that being hitched with her would be… unpleasant. Shame you never listened to your gut.

Then there was the star of the show! The only prick you knew craved for nothing but the spotlight. Endlessly seeking validation for his actions. Only satisfied once his legacy was recognized. A pitiful shapeshifter that took many forms but loved only one… “Mario Emmett! The demon that never could be!"

A lanky black creature with an ego that was bigger than he deserved. Was he the main protagonist of your little show? Who are you to know? You’re only here to follow a repetitive script, endless by design.

You seem confused pal, scruffy face scrunched up, wrinkles becoming more apparent as your tired eyes examining the poster a bit too close... Perhaps a little reminder of why you’re here will help out with that gap in your memory. Wouldn't you agree, pal?

You search through the pockets of your plain brown overcoat, and feel the thin paper edge of a letter. The one Terrence had sent you, remember?

Carefully, you tug it out. Not that the yellow paper didn't already look worse for wear.

Despite its lack of care, surprisingly not your doing for once, you were reasonable enough to fold it neatly like a professional old-timely gentleman. No, it was… Terrence, yes, Terrence who had scrunched it with little care. “Always had a knack for getting on my nerves,” you would bitterly think. Funnily enough, that’s the part of him that was done right. What an Abercrombie!

…Is that the right slang?

You unfold the letter up, again, for what would be, unbeknownst to you, the first of many times. You read the ink scribbled over the dirty gold paper once more.

More interaction between Jennifer and Sir Enigma Malvolio. Seduction... could be better Jennifer. Granted, Malvolio's not... normal. The extent of how "unnormal" he is though is yet to be recognized:

"You shouldn't be here."

Jennifer swiftly turned around, her back to the Apex's chamber pod, its mesmerizing fluid motion forgotten as she focused on the approaching short figure of Malvolio. She noticed just how quiet his steps were, and how he neglected to bring his cane down to the container's metal floor.

"Don't you know it's rude to snoop around in stranger's properties?" he asked, his voice echoing in the trailer, despite how restrained it is from the usual bombastic and joyous attitude he put up in front of Dicko. From what she could tell, he sounded more amused than angered that she came into his workshop uninvited.

His gaze was still as dead and false as it had been like in their first meeting.

Remembering why she was there, Jennifer shifted her stature, "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself after tonight's fight."

Seeing that Malvolio stopped approaching, tilting his head as he waited for her to continue. Thinking she had his attention, she looked around, blue eyes wide in wonder as she gestured the workshop, "This place is amazing."

Looking to Malvolio, who she still had the engaged attention of, she gestured to him and stated coyly, "You were amazing."

To what would have to be the eighth confusing she's ever received from this man, Malvolio snorted and tsked at her. With a shake of his head, he looked to her, a smile curved on his lips as he made his reply.

"Please, I barely did a thing. She's the one who deserves the credit. It was all her," he pointed his cane behind Jennifer, to the darkened pod, where the Apex resided in the waters, "I was merely the motivation she needed to win the fight."

Looking between Malvolio and the beastie, Jennifer selectively stammered as she said, "But you did create it. And shared its mind. Don't you agree that's more than enough reason for praise?"

For whatever reason, Malvolio scoffed, looking Jennifer up and down, scrutinizing her with his gaze as he impressively twirled his cane to rest on his shoulder, now looking more like a club than a walking stick. He unnerved and frustrated her. Jennifer needed him to lower his guard, to be completely oblivious to any danger she posed.

It just ticked her off that he was clearly unconvinced with her performance, and at ease while she had to keep her nerve together, especially for Dicko's sake.

Here's a FC5 WIP for The True Sinners of Silva on a (forced) picnic with Faith and Nadi, for a "girl's day out" as Faith had insisted to Jacob (though Nadi hadn't initially been invited). Have some lore, ship teasing and the aftereffects of Silva's terrible childhood. Also TW for kidnapping, cults, manipulation and discussion of eating disorders:

Faith let out a sigh as she clung on to Silva's arm, effectively anchoring the woman where she sat. And she wasn't sure what was more concerning; the fact she didn't mind Faith being so close to her, or the familiar content smile on the herald's face.

"I'm glad the two of us can finally hang out," Faith admitted, neglecting to include Nadi's presence, "Jacob had been hogging you for so long that I was afraid I wouldn't ever get to see you again."

Silva wasn't sure how to respond to Faith's small confession so chose to reply with a contemplative hum, ignoring the warmth she felt rushing in her face. She also ignored the gnawing hunger at the sight of the food as well.

Nadi must have noticed that she wasn't eating the food as both herself and Faith had been. She looked at Silva with concerned brown eyes.

Silva was unsure why the blonde would care though; she just wasn't that hungry. Not even for the barely nipped sandwich in her hand.

"...Something wrong with the chicken, enfer?" Nadi asked, her head tilted as she scanned Silva over with her gaze. Silva glowered at the woman, rather irked that John's right-hand would bring attention to her lack of appetite, especially while the present host was a herald.

"It's nothing," she told the Frenchwoman, lowering the chicken sandwich. Nadi was unconvinced, though, and looked to Faith, head jerking to Silva.

And unfortunately, Faith lifted her head from Silva's shoulder, adjusting herself to sit up straight as she shifted her attention from Nadi to her charge. Silva risked a glance next to her and had the misfortune of getting caught into the worried gaze of Faith's green eyes.

"Do you not like the food?" Faith asked, eyes wide in panic like she committed some unspeakable crime, putting a hand on her forehead as she continued, "I should have asked you what you wanted. I'm sorry, I was so excited for this picnic with you that I didn't think you'd have any problem with the food-"

Silva saw the growing distress on the herald and swiftly responded to put a stop to it. She didn't want to find out what the repercussions were from upsetting the brother's little sister.

"No, no, it's not the food," Silva stated, garnering Faith's attention as she listened, focus as intense as the floral scent that followed the herald. Once again unprepared for the sole attention of Faith, she hurriedly tried to clear up any confusion, "The food is good. It's just me. I'm not hungry."

Even though she said she wasn't hungry, Silva could feel the pained craving for the food, but her mind just couldn't handle the idea of consuming anything for the time being.

Faith's demeanor lost the panic instantly, and the calm that came across her face left Silva stunned at the whiplash.

"Huh," Faith said, looking over to Nadi, the blonde unbothered by the herald's rapid shift in emotions, who had a knowing look as she stared at Silva with sincere pity.

"Are you sure, enfer?" Nadi questioned, a brow raised, "Jacob said you don't eat a lot at the center. The last time you ate must have been, what... three, four hours ago? Can you really say you're not hungry?"

Silva refused to answer, looking away from Nadi as the conflict of hunger and lack of appetite raged inside.

Both woman present found Silva's silence to be confirmation, and Nadi asked, "You're not starving yourself to spite us, are you?"

Silva gave Nadi an incredulous look, straightening up, "What would be the point of that? Despite how unpleasant I find your cult, it wouldn't help me to weaken myself. And besides, like you said, I do eat at the center. Which would be counterproductive if my plan was to starve myself, no matter how stupid of a plan it is to begin with."

Nadi nodded along, not incorrectly correcting her on their group status, agreeing with most of Silva's words, "I believe you. So, what's up?"

Silva had half a mind to not outright curse the sharpshooter about the obvious reason being how she was kidnapped from her home and kept captive against her will surrounded by cultists. The terror and stress of not knowing what they're capable of. Nadi would never know the terror of being unable to predict a so-called prophet's next move.

Especially when he was your own father.

Silva snapped out of her musings when Faith's hand rested on her arm. Glancing to her, the herald gave a comforting squeeze, a small encouraging smile on her face. The action made Silva's face feel no less warmer.

So instead, she glanced between Faith's waiting green eyes and Nadi's sincere stare, and exhaled a sigh, as she softly revealed, "I... just can't."

Nadi nodded slowly, "But you want to."

Silva gave a nod at Nadi's correct guess. She looked down to the sandwich in her hands. She wanted to have it, and the basket of fruits with the baked goods. She desired it badly, but she couldn't let go of the dread that came with eating and swallowing.

"But you don't because you're afraid of what could happen if you do. Like choking? Or perhaps vomiting?"

Silva didn't need to say anything to confirm that what Nadi deduced was true.

Nadi hummed, and stated, "It seems you got yourself an eating disorder, enfer. An avoidant one from what you've described."

Silva eyed John's confidant. The name sounded familiar, something Kamski would have offhandedly mentioned. Curiosity did eat away at her, as she replied, "You seem to be familiar with this disorder."

Nadi smiled, though the smile didn't reach her brown eyes. She looked down to the apple she had been biting on, "That's because I suffer from the same thing. Unlike you though, where you don't eat enough, I eat too much. I've gotten better though. John, la chérie, helped set up a diet and routine for me. Got me to memorize timing as well. He and Alexander still check up on me from time-to-time, but it's greatly appreciated."

Silva was surprised; both by Nadi's confession and the fact John of all people went out of his way to help Nadi. Silva thought him incapable of such a thing, given his holier-than-thou attitude towards her.

And finally the last paragraph for the still unnamed arranged marriage FC5 scenario. And Alexander (AKA Jacob's most trusted and loyal right hand man) is pissed. TW for cult views, a war crime and mentioned coerced/arranged/forced marriages. Also mentioned drug (Bliss) use. Snippet below:

Letting out a deep, shaky sigh, Alexander stared straight into Jacob's cold blue eyes, and said, "So you must understand my... my confusion and my shock and my fury when the Sinner herself, stumbling around the halls, high on fucking Bliss, wept in my arms as she told me exactly everything you and Joseph and John and Faith neglected to share with me or Nadi or the rest of the congregation. You told me she agreed to our negotiations. No, not our negotiations, you told me she agreed to your family's negotiations as soon as it was put forward. You told me this marriage between a suitor of her choosing, no matter how nonsensical and impractical and detrimental the wedding itself is to morale and our resources, was to bring unity between Eden's Gate and the Resistance indefinitely. So tell me Jacob. Why the lies? Why the lack of care towards the rules that Joseph says keep us grounded? Rules that I have witnessed so many of our brothers and sisters be punished for breaking, and yet now you and your siblings are exempt from it? Why have you been sending out Hunters, armed to the teeth, to track down Palmer's Militia if we're in a truce? Why do I hear of no contact with the Resistance if we're supposed to be sharing compensations and details surrounding our peace? Why had Silva told me that Joseph already chosen her suitor, and ignored her refusal of it?! And most importantly, why did she say it was YOU?!"

[gothmiqote]

— B A S I C S

Name: Varha Naiarro Nicknames: N/A Age: Mid/Late twenties- Early thirties during the game timeline. Nameday: 5th Sun of the 4th Umbral Moon Race: Miqo'te, Keeper Gender: Female Orientation: Bisexual Profession: Warrior of Light

— P H Y S I C A L     A S P E C T S

Hair: Long & black with a bit of texture to it. Gave herself bangs after Heavensward and never looked back. Eyes: Red. Inherited the pupil shape more commonly found in Seekers from her father. Skin: Pale, greyish-blue undertones. She's got the Keeper marking on her forehead. Tattoos/scars: Surprisingly has no tattoos. She's got multiple piercings, though—several on her ears, one on her navel, & she got her nipples done sometime around Endwalker. Varha has an impressive collection of scars on her body. Most are from fighting, and there's a few notably nastier ones on her ribs & thigh that didn't heal as well as the others. After ARR, she added one on the left side of her jaw to her inventory. It's not particularly gnarly, especially when compared to some of the others, but you can still see it easily enough.

— F A M I L Y

Parents: Keeper mother, Seeker father. Both died in the last Calamity. Siblings: Third oldest out of six. The only other sibling who survived the Calamity with her was Rhaya'ra, the second youngest. Grandparents: Also dead, but 3/4 died prior to the Calamity. Other: Her relationship with Rhaya is... not the best, honestly. They were never the closest before losing the rest of the family, but after? It was worse, & she doesn't really tell people she even has a brother at this point. They happened to cross paths for the first time in a few years in Sharlayan, not long before her fight with [Redacted]. He left a spectacularly bad impression on the Scions. They're working on their relationship presently, even if it's not easy. Pets: N/A. The only 'living' things in her place are the fake plants; it's about all she trusts herself with to keep alive.

— S K I L L S

Abilities: The girl loves her guns, what can she say? Her go-to skillset is Machinist, but she typically fights with a blend of that and the projectile skills of a dancer. (Bit of a blend of the fight choreo from Kingsman and John Wick, actually.) More recently, she's discovered that she makes a fair gunbreaker too. Is she able to use magic? Sure, but it's never going to be the first thing she relies on in a fight. Hobbies: Like her partner Estinien, she has none Pre-Calamity, Varha held professional dance aspirations and would like to pick it up again sometime. You could probably count working out & travelling, even if they're incidental. She does like to keep up to date with the tech she uses though, and it's a genuine interest of hers.

— T R A I T S

Most Positive Trait: Determination, dedication to causes/people she believes in, the ability to somehow maintain an aggressive sense of optimism through it all. Most Negative Trait: Recklessness at her own expense, tunnel-visioned stubbornness, impatience.

— L I K E S

Colors: Carmine, black, ink-blue. Smells: Something faintly metallic, gunsmoke, mint, floral soaps, a crisp winter night. Textures: Leather, a fresh coat of nail polish, the feeling of blood in your teeth, lips against a fresh scar. Drinks: Sparkling wine, honey mead, citrus juices, cold spring water.

— O T H E R    D E T A I L S

Smokes: N/A. Needs those lungs in top-shape to fight, y'know. Drinks: Drinks socially & tries not to overdo it often but doesn't mind being drunk if she does. Varha does try to avoid drinking if she's already in a bad mood though; if she's trashed and feeling good, then she's great. Otherwise, she has a tendency to become a bit fatalistic & self-loathing. Drugs: Regularly? No. Will she have an edible here & there if she knows she has nowhere to be? Occasionally. They really just make her more relaxed and less awkward about experiencing the full spectrum of emotion. Mount Issuance: She'll ride whatever. A chocobo will do if there's nothing else, or the Amaro in the first. Been Arrested: Yeah, yeah, we all know about the regicide thing. She's never been to prison or been charged with anything, but she will die on the (very stupid) hill of 'spending the night in jail once or is not the same thing as actually being charged.' It wasn't for anything terrible, just being a bit of an intoxicated menace in public after a night out, but still.

tagged by @emotional-support-carbuncle, tagging @tellings @verpine95 @nabulsi

[endlessly-cursed]

𝗔𝗹𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘁 𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗲𝗿

"𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙚𝙨𝙩, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩."

BASICS

Full Name: Albert Edward Rosier 

Birthday: 30th of January, 1908

Weight: 86kg 

Height: 1.85m 

Faceclaim: Nicholas Hoult 

HOGWARTS 

House: Hufflepuff 

Wand: Elm wood, phoenix core, 11 inches, rigid flexibility 

The unfounded belief that only pure-bloods can produce magic from elm wands was undoubtedly started by some elm wand owner seeking to prove his own blood credentials, for I have known perfect matches of elm wands who are Muggle-borns. The truth is that elm wands prefer owners with presence, magical dexterity and a certain native dignity. Of all wand woods, elm, in my experience, produces the fewest accidents, the least foolish errors, and the most elegant charms and spells; these are sophisticated wands, capable of highly advanced magic in the right hands (which, again, makes it highly desirable to those who espouse the pure-blood philosophy).

Amortentia (what they smell like): Fresno, expensive cologne, Earl Grey tea, gillywater and bourbon 

Best Subject: Herbology and Transfiguration 

Worst Subject: HOM 

Career: Marquis of Weltonshire 

Quidditch: Seeker 

Extracurriculars: Poetry club, duelling club, right hand of the Herbology professor 

FAMILY

Mother: Sara Josefina Rosier

Beautiful, sensual and intelligent, Catalina was a bright Ravenclaw witch with a quick wit and a tendency to make men and women in love with her. Of Swedish descendance, she grew up within the Sacred Twenty-Eight, though her affair with King Edward VII was infamous, especially when Albert and his sister were born of it. She re-met schoolmate Carmine Elderberry, who had been widowed and the two of them lived together. Catalina was obvlivious to their love until she had children of her own.

Father: King Edward VII

The infamous king, known as ‘The Caressed’, died when Albert was two years old, so he only remembers what is told of him, and is a bit embarrassed to be his son and never tried to make an appeal for a better life, having his own pride. He was well aware of his reputation and rumours, and somehow inherited his rizz with women, though he was like that unintentionally... most of the time. 

Sibling: Catalina Freydis Rosier 

Albert’s twin, she was his favourite woman in the world and always had a deep love for her. She was quiet, reserved and stubborn, but with a golden heart. At seventeen, Albert fell gravely ill and she nursed him back to life. Without her efforts, he wouldn’t have lived. They remained close for the rest of their lives 

Uncles: No uncles

Aunts: Carmine Elderberry ( @potionboy3​ )

Albert had always been a bit intimidated by Carmine, but came to love her as an aunt, and she grew up as a widowed aunt who was very much united to his mother. She provided for his education and even helped him with the hard subjects when Sara was away, and was the first to know the nature of their relationship, and though shocked, he was quick to accept it and support them in their late years. 

Friends: Ètienne Dubois 

Albert and Ètienne, though him being older, met in the society gatherings, for his family was an important one in the health business. Both of them had a similar sense of humour and lifestyles and quicky connected. Albert was also the reason he and Catalina married, though he scolded him for getting her pregnant at 18, and was the one to tell him to do the right thing and marry her. And so, he did, and all was well, loving his nieces and nephew very much 

Significant Other: Ruth Marchmont @potionboy3​ 

Albert was well aware of the fame of Ruth’s mother, Agata, thanks to the tell-all of the famous Ezra Greenaway, and it was Ètienne who thought it’d be interesting to introduce him to the daughter, Ruth. The two of them clicked and saw each other frequently, sparks clearly being there. When he fell ill, he whispered Ruth’s name numerous times, and Catalina urged her to his possible death-bed. After that, he realised he was in love with her. Unfortunately, he was not good at speeches, so he recurred to poems and flowers which language he always found fascinating. 

[More TBA] 

PERSONALITY

Three Qualities: Charming, gentlemanly, humorous 

Three Faults: Shy, clueless, a bit naive 

Guilty Pleasure: Smoking cigarrettes and drinking bourbon when stressed 

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn 

FAVOURITES

Colour: Green, golden, grey and white 

Music: TBD 

Food: Spaghetti al pomodoro 

Person: His sister Catalina 

Place in the world: Normandy, France 

Holiday: Autumn 

Hobbies: Drinking bourbon, play polo and cricket, studying flowers and poetry 

MISC

When he was young, he liked to play in the gardens and find out which ones were edible. One day, he cut himself with the roses and cried all day. His mother, Sara, found him and taught him the meaning and messages of the flowers, and he fell in love with it 

He always sent Ruth poems with flowers, each of them with a message he wanted to express 

He also made flower crowns to Catalina and Carmine, expressing his love for them 

When he was small, he suffered from a stutter and wasn’t cured until he was twenty-two. He still stutters a bit because of Ruth lol 

He also plays the piano and can sing, though he must be heavily persuaded 

He was deemed an ideal student and was a gifted child who became a burned out adult 

He always craved for academic validation 

His biggest dream was to meet Ezra Greenaway 

With the encouragement of his family, he published some of his poems, though most addressed to Ruth were kept in private, for he deemed them too intimate to the public eye 

They were later discovered by his descendants and properly published 

He also composed a song for Ruth that he sang to her days before proposing: “My Sweet, Wild Tulip” It represented his deep love for her and that she was his person. 

Every anniversary, he’d decorate their room with a 100 red roses that meant their love had lasted another year. 

He even dedicated a whole greenhouse for her that he named “Darling Ruth’s House of Greens.” 

He also installed all kinds of leaves and trees to the estate 

He has nicknames of meanings of flowers for each of his beloved ones 

He also loves making jewels and made her a necklace of beautiful pearls, amethysts, black onyx, citrine, emeralds, garnet and a red ruby. 

[thoughtlessarse]

Extremist political reactions to the stabbing in Germany involving a Syrian asylum seeker and the anti-migrant riots in the UK are not just isolated incidents—they are the latest, painful reminders that something is deeply wrong in our society, writes Carmine Conte. (Carmine Conte is a senior policy analyst at the Migration Policy Group) These events are symptoms of a much larger issue that we need to address urgently: the structural racism embedded in our institutions and everyday lives. The Council of Europe has rightly identified structural discrimination as operating “through norms, routines, patterns of attitudes, and behaviour that create obstacles to achieving genuine equality or equal opportunities.” Tackling structural and institutional racism is not just necessary—it is long overdue. Over the past few weeks, as these stories dominated headlines, I found myself returning to the findings of our recent research at the Migration Policy Group (MPG). We have made significant progress in combating racial discrimination since 2000. Thanks to robust anti-discrimination laws across Europe. Yet, our research—spanning eight EU countries—unveils a troubling reality: these legal frameworks, while essential, barely scratch the surface of the deeply rooted nature of racism that affects many minority groups across the continent. A notable finding of our study is the pervasive colour-blind approach entrenched in the national legal systems and societal attitudes. This approach avoids the explicit acknowledgement of ‘race’ and ultimately perpetuates racial inequalities by ignoring the unique experiences of racialised groups. In fact, the main visible characteristics leading to racialisation, such as skin colour and ethnic or religious clothing, remain unaddressed in national legal frameworks. Take, for instance, the Roma, Black people, and Muslims across Europe. Our research highlights that structural racism is particularly evident against these groups in sectors such as justice, healthcare, education, employment, and housing. In Sweden, the Sámi population faces localised forms of structural racism, while in most countries, Asians remain an “invisible” group, often overlooked in discussions and data on racism. Antisemitism is formally acknowledged in legal frameworks, but underreporting and limited jurisprudence indicate significant gaps in addressing this form of discrimination.

continue reading

As long as politicians and governments continue to demonise migrants this problem will never be solved, and even the “legal” Blacks, Muslims and Roma, will forever be treated as second class citizens.

[lustrumlane]

Eretnik | Mikhail Reaction

Mikhail privately marvels at the guillotine. Perhaps it is a barbaric and frightening punishment to the Seekers who lived in later eras, but Mikhail can see that it is a shockingly kind tool. A quick and clean decapitation, to be impartially carried out by gravity… truly a far cry from being shattered upon the breaking wheel and crucified, or mutilated and dismembered for display, or burned at the stake.

His own hand covers his eyes, an action that is performative to a foolish degree, for his green eyes plainly stare through wide gaps between his fingers. A rictus grin remains plastered on his face, and Mikhail laughs quietly to hear the person who was Ephemie mock the charlatans among them before honestly admitting her regrets and desires. And then, the blade falls.

Mikhail begins to murmur a prayer for Alice’s soul, but his breath soon hitches in his throat. He is silenced by the Emissaries’ ritual, the canonization of a sinner in carmine light. The grin falls from his face as quickly as the guillotine’s blade did, now replaced by a look of terror.

There’s really nothing out of place about the guillotine here, where the devils dance and beg for murder, is there? Torturous executions may keep order in the world of the living, but in Hell that order is destined to break down. Al Glynn’s false Resurrection finally brings this inversion into perspective, alongside the rules of this place, which Mikhail had found as inscrutable as the fog.

This will not be the last of these trials, he is now sure. When Mikhail finally leaves the observatory, his searching glances at other Seekers’ expressions are all undisguised, much like the grin that has returned to his face.

[hazelkjt]

97+ MSQ Spoilers Below

Hazel's reflection in Alexandria: Lanwa Carmine. Born to a Hhetsarro and Alexandrian couple, Lanwa enjoyed a privileged life inside Solution Nine from the moment of her birth. She grew to have quite the rebellious streak despite her parents' best efforts, chasing thrills all her life. This eventually led her to joining a gang for a short while before entering the Air-Wheeler Racing Circuit at only 16 summers old. While not as popular as the Arcadion's fights, Air-Wheeler races never fail to bring in a dedicated crowd. None of that mattered to Lanwa however, she was only after the rush of adrenaline those life-threatening races bring her.

[arobinwithoutbatman]

10 fandoms/10 characters/10 tags

...am I really doing this to myself right before bed? Also, excuse the spacing I'm doing this on my phone

DC

-Stephanie Brown

-Cassandra Cain

-Tim Drake

-Dick Grayson

-Jason Todd

-Barbara Gordon

-Duke Thomas

-Damian Wayne

-Alfred Pennyworth

-Bruce Wayne

UnOrdinary

-John

-Sera

-Remi

-Blyke

-Isen

-Leilah

-Doc

-Arlo (reluctantly)

-William

-The Principle

Persona 5

-Amamiya Ren/Kurusu Akira

-Sakamoto Ryuji

-Takamaki Ann

- Morgana

-Kitagawa Yusuke

-Niijima Makoto

-Sakura Futaba

-Okumura Haru

-Akechi Gori

-Sophia

Bungou Stray Dogs (I'm so behind and can't be bothered to catch up)

-Nakahara Chuuya

-Dazai Osamu

-Kunikida Doppo

-Ozai Koyou

-Tanizaki Junichiro

-Fukuzawa Yukichi

-Yosano Akiko

-Izumi Kyoka

-Nakajima Atsushi

-Akutagawa Gin

Yu-Gi-Oh (You're getting dub names)

-Jaden Yuki

-Yusei Fudo

-Akiza

-Jack Atlus

-Crow Hogan

-Martha

-Carly Carmine

-Syrus Truesdale

-Bastion Mizawa

-Alexis Rhodes

Homestuck (im running out of fandoms okay?)

-Rose

-Roxy

-Sollux

-Kanaya

-The Dolorosa

-The Helmsman/The Psiionic

-Meenah

-Feferi

-Aradia

-Jade

Hades (Supergiant)

-Zagreus

-Thanatos

-Megaera

-Dusa

-Nyx

-Persephone

-Artemis

-Ares

-Dionysius

-Cerberus

The Infectious Madness of Doctor Dekker

-Bryce

-Claire

-Elin

-Jaya

-Mariana

-Nathan

...there's only so many characters...

Huntik: Seekers and Secrets (If anyone else remembers this, we should qualify for elderly discounts)

-Lok Lambert

-Sophie Casterwill

-Dante Vale

-Zhalia Moon

-Cherit

-Guggenheim

-Sabriel (the Titans count as characters to me!)

-Kipperin

-Grier

-Lok's mum

Assassin's Creed

-Desmond Miles

-Shaun Hastings

-Lucy

-Rebecca

-Ezio Auditore da Firenze

-Altaïr Ibn La'Ahad

-Ratonhnhaké:ton

-Eivor

-Malik Al-Sayf

-Caterina Sforza

Tagged by: @dramatisperscnae

Tagging: Do you know how long this took me? I'm not tagging 10 people. You wanna do it? Go for it

[nintendouniverse2023]

The following progressive of My Batman AU resembles some new origin stories and new accomplishments between the DC Universe.

Bio: When Selina was very young, Her Father, Carmine Falcone placed her in an orphanage were the abusive staff would beat them every night. During that time she met another female and long time friend “Holly Robinson” and later they escape the orphanage. Growing up on the streets after they escape. Selina learns who to survive at the basics of sudden chaos by taking what she could take as one of the many buglers. Once Selina was older, her friend got a job in a cafe so far and yet Selina still continues as a burglarizing, Now going by the name Catwoman.

When the Long Halloween event starts When Catwoman was stealing the Falcone data information, She was first encountered by Batman gave chase, which lead to Falcone’s unlaundered money, meeting Harvey Dent there. They decided to burn it down. Catwoman will see Batman again soon, which lead to many encounters with her until New Years, Batman goes after the only person left to be Holiday was Alberto Falcone not long after Selina discovered Bruce is Batman in front of Alberto. Before Alberto can tell the truth, he was shot and killed by the Holiday Falconie, still determined to take over Wayne Enterprises, he hires the Eco Terrorist and Plant mixed DNA Pamela Isley/Poison Ivy to mind control Bruce. While the Holiday kills more Falcone Mobsters. The Batman was still missing over a month, Catwoman then breaks into the Wayne Penthouse, defeating Ivy, Freeing Bruce and Alfred from her control.

At the rooftops next to Falconies Building, Batman begins to ask why Catwoman is obsessed with the Falcones; she admits that Roman was actually her father. As for her mother, never been found. They found Carmine Falcone with a shadow figure. They both know who the figure is and goes to the building. Carmine first thought it was Batman telling him the event this past year was “The Long Halloween” But then it was Holiday and shot Falcone in the heart. Knowing it’s too late, Catwoman angrily attacks the Holiday before Sofia shows up, Batman stops her in time to reveal to be Harvey’s wife, Gilda Dent. Distraught Sofia screams and rushes forward to attack Gilda, but Catwoman stops her. The two wrestle and fall through a glass window. Outside, Catwoman grabs onto a ledge, but Sofia plunges and falls to her death. Catwoman reveals her face to Falcone, who says "Louisa" as Batman did the same. Carmine say’s to Bruce that he still believes and answers yes before taking his final breath.

During a crime wave at Christmas which lead to Catwoman getting shot in the leg, Bruce and Selina shared a moment which lead to Selina telling him everything. Bruce understands her completely knowing that both her and Holly's life’s had a terrible childhood but he tells her that their is still a chance for her to let him and possably might have a chance of working together in the future. Selina countiues her tanglement with Batman as The Catwoman. Making the chase as she makes a support to Holly and Fights one of the Rouges.

Appearance: Her appearance was inspired by Batman 2022, She has a leather collar, Gray pants and jacket, Belly button prerace, Red Cat Shirt, Black Boots and Cat Gloves

Voice Actor: Grey Griffin

Age: 25

Height: 5.5 ft

Weight: 130 ibs

Personality: Sneaky, Glitter Eye, Attention Seeker, Street-smart, Confident, and Sly.

Favorite Foods: Sardines

Family: Chole Kyle and Carmine Falcone * Parents/Deceased*

Allies: Bruce Wayne/Batman *Friendly Rival* Robin, Batgirl, Alfred and The GCPD

Enemies: The Rouges Gallery *Most to Joker, Riddler, Two-Face and Poison Ivy* *Mostly Black Mask because he shot her in the leg once.*

Likes: Punk Music, Stealing, Flirting with the Bat, Chased by Batman, Spending time with Holly Robison and Messing with Riddler

Dislikes:Getting Caught, Blackmailed and Arrested

[babybluesquid]

Session 17, Dealings with Daask

Our Players this Week:

Hog 112, they/them, Weapon Thaumaturge, skirmisher warforged, the leader of the inquisitives agency and founding member, tends toward practicality and following a command structure.

Vestige, they/them, Bones Oracle, warforged placed into a human body, a healer and the agency’s fleshborn face, remains on the periphery with an individualistic streak.

Strategy, it/its, Empiricist Investigator, officer warforged, an old model who’s seen much action and uses the tactics they learned back during the war now under Sharn.

Samanta, she/they, Swashbuckler Fencer, skirmisher warforged, a spotter during the war who turned to spying for one of Sharn’s criminal families before joining the inquisitives agency.

Carmine, she/her, War Priest, infantry warforged, a forged who converted to the Blood of Vol and extensively modified her own body to fit a Seeker ideal.

——————

Morning doesn’t come to the Cogs. It remains lit with everbright lanterns along streets the factories own and cloaked in darkness everywhere else. But the sun is shining in the upper city when Carmine enters Hog’s office. She closes the door. “Hello there, Hog.” Her voice sounds smaller than usual, defeated. “I wanted to chat with you for a minute.” “What is it?” Hog asks. “I think you were right. I don’t think I’m cut out for this. I admit- I must’ve gotten in over my own head, I think. I- this agency is not what I thought it would be and your path is that of war, and I have no interest in wars. I apologize, but I believe I must take my leave. Don’t worry, I don’t think you’ve paid me yet, so I…” she falls silent.

Hog stares at Carmine, looking a bit angry, then says: “go on then. Go.” Carmine nods, “I apologize for wasting your time. You are a good soldier, Hog, and a good leader. I am sorry that I didn’t get to express that belief. I’ll be taking my leave now.” On her way out, Carmine leaves the spell scroll she got on Mage’s desk. As she goes, Vestige remarks to Hog, “I knew she wouldn’t last.”

The time for the handoff approaches. Down Carmine, the sleuths have no choice but to go on one member short. The meeting place is deserted and dark, sandwiched between various abandoned tunnels and empty storage caches. Strategy sets about finding the ideal place for the inquisitives to lie in wait. Assisted by Shadowblack, they locate a vantage point with good visibility, sufficient cover, and a couple escape routes to choose from for if things go sideways. Samanta, meanwhile, scouts out all other exits from the area, just in case it’s the cultists who opt to cut and run. As the time arrives, the associates lie in wait.

Daask comes first. Five of them, with a mule-drawn wagon full of crates. They’re two orcs, two humans, and a forged, all armed. One of the humans fidgets with an obsidian stone, a fact Strategy notes to the other sleuths. Soon, the buyers arrive as well. Three of them, all human and carrying torches. One buyer speaks to the Daask forged, then hands over a canvas bag. The inquisitives watch as Daask sends the cart over. A human and an orc from the Daask side also stride over. As the other three Daask leave, it becomes clear the new group will leave together. “Well, that complicates things,” Vestige comments, annoyed.

Debate ensues as Hog and Strategy briefly consider the options. Kill the Daask or let them go? Strategy worries about both options. Hog suggests separating the goons from the cultists, perhaps using a smoke stick for cover, but Strategy disagrees. Smoke would also cover their enemy, and things could get real complicated real quick. It comes down to three choices for the moment, as the sleuths argue and their quarry rounds a bend: attack, abort, or follow.

So the sleuths follow. Hog decides that they oughta get some distance away and then attack. Strategy warns that Daask will respond if they find out about this, but whether it will be with violence or an attempted payoff remains unknown. Considering this advice, Hog orders that the sleuths handle the two Daask thugs nonlethally, hoping to make a peace offer. “We’ll see how it works out,” Samanta quietly remarks. Hog and Strategy sneak around to the front of the wagon, while Vestige, Samanta, and Shadowblack hang back.

The arsonists are about to cross a bridge when a bolt flies towards them from a stack of abandoned barrels on the other side. The bolt buries in the chest of one arsonist, who seems undisturbed. “Ready for a fight, lads!” shouts one gangster, the human, as Khyber breaks loose in the streets of Blackbones. And that’s not just a figure of speech: as shots fly and Samanta bursts out of a tent, descending on a torch-wielding arsonist, their be-robed leader in the mule cart starts to gibber and hum. Suddenly, a sphere of fire explodes into being and engulfs Samanta, who shouts with alarm. Shadowblack leaps out of cover to help her, just as she is flanked by the wounded cultist, who batters her backplate fiercely despite the missile sticking out between his ribs.

Strategy moves up, firing, as the few civilians in this desolate district flee the scene. Its shot strikes the leader as it shouts, “Surrender is advised. We are not after your lives.” The cultists take no heed, but the message wasn’t mean for them. The second Daask gangster, the orc, responds. “We’re supposed to make sure these items get delivered and you seem to be in the way. I’m afraid we may have to kill you if you don’t depart.” “What he said, right!” shouts the first. Vestige focuses on Shadowblack and the arsonist in front of him, weakening one and strengthening the other. He scores a good hit, but the orcish gangster runs around behind him and smacks him with his blade.

At the front of the column, the damage from Strategy’s war-rod starts to show as the arsonist leader sways and shakes. The human gangster pulls out a cheap surplus healing potion and rushes to his side. “Whoa there, don’t you fall down,” he says, pouring the medicine into the spasming cultist’s mouth. It splatters his lips and spills all over his beard, but the pungent brew seems to have its intended effect.

With Samanta and Shadowblack surrounded, and most of the enemies busy, Hog decides to act. They rush across the bridge, pull out a potion of Expeditious Retreat, and approach the panicked mule. “Here, buddy, just drink this…” Meanwhile, the arsonist leader raises his palms and intones a discordant note, like the howling of a furnace. Hog and Shadowblack watch as the ground bursts into flames, fire raising into a great pillar that engulfs the street, and then the whole neighborhood as far as the eye can see, their livewood snapping and plates pinging as the stones of Sharn boil and split. Suddenly, it’s gone. It was only a vision, but a nasty one. Hog trails off and stumbles away from the mule while an arsonist sinks a small knife into the distracted Shadowblack’s belly.

Things only get worse as a cultist rushes Hog, while the storm of fire splits off from Samanta and descends on the hapless commander. Luckily, the cultist misses both of his swings and is killed by two blasts of Strategy’s war-rod. Towards the rear, the cultist is sorely missed as Samanta wheels around and attacks the Daask orc from behind. She lands two good slashes, cutting his arm open with a spray of blood. Then, Vestige heals Shadowblack with a word before opening the gates of Dolurrh within the other arsonist. He collapses as his soul is whisked into the realm of the dead, leaving the orc to fight alone.

“You can’t win this one,” Vestige proposes. “Surrender.” The orc backs up slowly as he replies, “Given the situation, I’m inclined to agree. However…” He turns and runs to the cart, shouting at his ally. “Go! Go!” The other Daask man throws an obsidian at Hog and then cracks the reins. Fire erupts around the inquisitives’ commander as the mule begins to run, and the orc leaps onto the cart. Shadowblack chases, grabbing the reins and slashing at them with his knife. Samanta follows, too, leaping onto the crowded cart and swinging at the arsonist leader. In response, the infernal sphere lifts off from Hog and begins to burn her. Relieved, Hog starts slashing at the reins from the other side, but is dazzled by a flash of light from the cultist. However, the reins snap, the mule bucks, and the cart comes to a stop. Strategy lines up a shot, and blasts open the head of the cultist leader.

Strategy lowers its war rod, looking between the two Daask members. “Now, it would be highly advised to surrender.” The orc throws up his hands, grinning, “yeah, so, we give you this stuff and you don’t kill us. I’d say that’s a fair deal, wouldn’t you say so?” Vestige approaches, staring the orc down, “now look. We spared you because we have no quarrel with you or your organization.” “Yeah, I’m pleasantly surprised you didn’t kill us,” the man continues, “though I have been stabbed. Are any of you medically inclined?” Vestige sighs, “Strategy, you tend to the man’s wounds.” The orc grins, “pleasure doing business with you! I hope to not see you again but I do hope you find the products satisfactory.”

As Strategy passes Vestige, it stops and whispers, “maybe we should tell them not to tell their bosses.” Vestige responds, “they’re gonna blab anyway.” “Are you sure?” “Yes. Least we can do is send them away on good terms.” Strategy acknowledges and goes to tend to the orc’s stab wound. The human just sits tight and watches it do so with no small measure of suspicion. Samanta and Shadowblack search the arsonists’ bodies, finding a charged obsidian stone on each of them. Hog hops up onto the wagon and opens up a crate. They freeze. It’s full of psicrystals, hundreds of galifars worth, and there’s a dozen more crates to open.

——————

Notables:

Polite Orc, he/him, a member of the ruthless Daask organization. His importance, unknown. His personality, agreeable.

Shadowblack, he/him, the agency’s allied ex-Blade, is certainly glad to get back to fighting fleshborn criminals.