#shadow: has a game where you can use guns if you want to but its not a requirement most of the time

[sonknuxadow]

its funny that people always talk about shadow having a gun and shadow is known as The Guy With The Gun when tails uses guns way more often and also the idea of tails using guns is objectively funnier than the idea of shadow using guns

[theresattrpgforthat]

Do you have any recommendations for games with fantasy pirates and tactical combat? I've really been enjoying running Pirate Borg, but I'm missing my crunchy strategy mini games. Thanks for everything you do for the community!

Theme: Tactical Pirate Fantasy

Hello friend, so by ‘tactical’ my best guess as to what you’re looking for is games that provide your characters with multiple options when it comes to resolving conflicts, with some options being better than others. This may or may not include maps in combat, but I think it might also include environmental considerations, buffs or de-buffs for using specific pieces of gear, and accounting for range or position when firing a gun.

However, really tactical games are much harder for me to find, probably because there’s so much math that goes into them. I did my best to give you a range of options, but I’m not entirely sure how well any one of these pirate games match your definition of ‘tactical’.

Bilge Rats, by Games by Cass.

Take to The Sea of Mischief and gamble your life away on high seas adventures as ratfolk pirates. Chase buried treasure, hunt wannabe pirate lords, and engage in some all together unsavoury action in Bilge Rats: A Sea of Mischief. This 78 page guide has everything you need to get your adventures on The Sea of Mischief up and running--except for the d6 dice, cups, and pencils you're gonna need. So, dust off your tricorn caps, get your cutlass shined, and get ready to set sail!

Bilge Rats’ form of strategy is probably unlike what you think of when you think of a tactical game, but I think it’s interesting and worth taking a look at! The basic system is centred around a game called “Liar’s Dice”, which involves rolling, bluffing if you don’t succeed, and calling other’s bluffs. You roll a pool of d6’s, with the difficulty being determined by a) the minimum number to beat to be considered a success and b) the number of successes you need to do the thing. As a player you’ll have to decide when a roll is worth bluffing, and if you enter PVP, it’s also about determining when your opponent is bluffing - challenge someone when they’re right, and you’ll pay the cost!

That being said, I think the most tactical part of this game comes into play during naval battles. Your character type is called a “Duty”, which determines your role upon the ship, your order of initiative, and a number of skill values. You’ll also have to consider wind speed, wind direction, and the roughness of the waves every time you engage in combat on a boat, so making strategic choices to improve your odds is probably pretty important.

The Runed Age, by Stormforge Productions.

In a world where magic and technology have fused together, where the limits that man is capable of have been broken, where a man can destroy the world with a stroke of a pen, the poor starve and the rich prosper off the blood of innocence. A world that should be a utopia has been turned by greed and pride into a battlefield where the poor wage war in the shadows for the ambitions of the wealthy. You are one of these scoundrels, these rogues, these pirates who struggle for the sport of the rich to achieve the glory, the riches, the power to break your chains and surpass the limits of The Runed Age.

The Runed Age is built on the Sigil System, a robust d100 roll-under system that allows you to play as narratively or simulationist as you want. The d100 genre of systems is a tried a true roleplaying method, and what sets the Sigil System (and thus the Ruined Age) apart from the rest is its combat and wounds system, which reflects the stresses and rigours of combat on the body to make combat as realistic as possible. This means that every fight in the Runed Age is a gritty, epic and lethal struggle for survival where you need to be prepared to do your best just to outlive your opponent.

The Runed Age is saturated with magic, using Runes as a mechanic to write your own spells. The openness of the system means that players have a lot of control over what they do with their magic, but the game definitely rewards system mastery because every time you try to write a spell, you’ll have to consider fiddly bits like power, range, and control.

When it comes to rolling dice, the system is heavily inspired by Call of Cthulhu. One review I found for this game mentions a possibility for tactical play, so I’m assuming that combat is more survival than CoC. If you want magic to be a significant part of the game, you probably want to check out The Runed Age.

Blood & Thunder, by Black Flag Printing Press.

You are a cutthroat aboard a pirate ship, seeking the fortune and glory that awaits those strong enough to take it. Brave the waterways of Erda and get rich or die trying in this nautical piracy TTRPG.

Lethal combat meets reactive gameplay at the infantry scale. Board, capture, or sink enemy vessels with naval play. Boasting rules for three dimensional range-finding and movement, even a regular swim in the ocean can become a deadly hazard as you're ripped apart by sharks, sea monsters, or something far worse.

Blood & Thunder is definitely fantastical, just judging from the races that you can choose from. Like D&D, your character choices are pre-packaged with stat bonuses and special abilities, but unlike D&D, you us a d100 for most of your rolls. Difficulty levels range from 0-100, with a limit on what you can even attempt to do depending on how high your skill rating is. If you can roll, you’ll aim to roll under your max skill rating.

Character levelling is also strategic; you need to meet certain requirements to take specific careers. Combat is also pretty dependent on a grid map, which I interpret to mean that range and positioning are two factors that you’ll have to consider, as well as an action economy that ensures that you’ll have to make your moves count.

Pirates and Musketeers, by Andrezj Buhlak.

The 17th century was rich in interesting events, political intrigues, bloody wars, and sea voyages. This book is a gateway to this fascinating period of history. If "dry history" is not enough for you, you can spice it up with fantastic assumptions, including vampires, werewolves, sea monsters and ancient ruins.

Pirates and Musketeers uses the Year Zero engine, which provides you with a number of d6s to roll that come from your base traits, character skills, and character gear. You have the ability to “push” your roll should your initial effort fail, which you will likely do often, as only 6’s are considered a success. However, should you “push” (or “re-roll”) your roll, any 1’s that you roll will also inflict penalties, doing damage to a stat or your gear. This means that in many stages of game-play, players will be balancing how much they value success against how many consequences they’re willing to face.

Language-wise, I’m not really a big fan of the way the game uses the term “savages.” The time period in this game is at the strength of many colonial empires, and some of that definitely bleeds through, so pick up this game with caution.

Caraval Crew, by iotsov.

A low fantasy TTRPG that focuses on sailing ships.

Right now, as far as I can tell, Caravel Crew is untested, but it has a lot of pieces for you to pick up and fiddle with. Combat has a lot of different kinds of options for your characters to exploit, with different outcomes if you bash, stab, shoot, parry, grapple, etc. There’s different weapons that are useful for different skills, and getting new weapons costs gold - an important resource to track. You’ll have a number of resources that you’ll need to keep track of and monitor, including hit points and something called EP.

On top of that, there’s also social and survival rules, so if you want a game that gives you engaging combat while still giving thought to other parts of the game, maybe pick up Caraval Crew and take it for a test drive!

24XX Skeleton Crew, by Jonah Boyd.

Dead men DO tell tales… on the other side. Skeleton Crew takes place in the sailor’s purgatory, Davy Jones’ Locker. When one dies at sea, their soul is brought to the Locker for a vast voyage to judge their fate. Some sailors only spend a few days in the Locker, but many form swashbuckling crews to preserve their non-lives for weeks, months, or years before judgement calls.

24XX games are another approach to the OSR (the same house of game design that fuels Pirate Borg), but use different-sized dice to represent a larger skill. I think there’s still more chance than strategy here, but again, this is a game that you could probably pull things from and then put into another system if you’re looking flavour.

The few fiddly bits that do exist in this game are things like different kinds of ships and different toys to put onto the ship - two things that you might be able to tack onto a game that doesn’t currently think about them, and thus opening up more pieces to consider should you get into a fight. Your ship could also come with flaws - what happens if you get in a fire-fight with a ship that has misfiring cannons? How might that complicate the battlefield?

You can also combine this game with another similar 24XX game, such as 14XX Golden Age to broaden your character origins or give yourself a few extra rules toys to play with.

Islands of the Far Sea, by Kindred Spirits, and Lilliputian, by ManaDawn Tabletop Games.

Islands of the Far Sea is a pirate-themed hack of Chris McDowell's Into the Odd, taking place in the Islands of the Oddworld. Play as one of seven Failed Careers in your new days as a Treasure-Hunter!

Lilliputian: Adventure on the Open Seas is an adventure game about exploring the vast and expansive ocean,  filled with uncharted islands, hidden treasure, weird weather and unspeakable horrors. Character creation is fast, fun and random, classless, and relies on fictional advancement. It is based on Mausritter by Isaac Williams, Into The Odd by Chris McDowall and Cairn by Yochai Gal, as-well-as so many more.

Into the Odd and Mausritter use the same bones, and both of these game books acknowledge that inspiration, although Lilliputian also draws quite a bit from Cairn. I don’t consider either of these games to be tactical games - but what they do have is possibilities that can be imported into other games. The Failed Careers from Islands of the Far Sea are packaged skills and gear that you can give a character to start with. They will then have to figure out how to make their kit work for the problems they walk into.

Lilliputian also has specific rules for naval combat, as well as lots and lots of random tables. I think more than anything it communicates a specific vibe, but taking a little bit from one game and a little bit from another is one way to customize your experience - as well as give your players more options when trying to figure out how to tackle their next salty obstacle.

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 14

An: Well, it only took 36,000 words to get here, but here we are! It's a long one and I had so much fun writing this part, so I hope you like it!

*Edit: I will be putting this series on a short pause for a few weeks so I have time to catch up on school. Thanks for understanding :)

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 6100

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut, nsfw, angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of guns.

Image credit: @ave661 (they're amazing!!)

I’ve never shot a gun before, but as I hold Ghost’s in my hand, I try to imagine what it will feel like.

The weapon is like solid lead in my hands. I weigh my options as I click the safety on and off. I feel like a broken scale and I’m indecisive at heart. Tonight is no different.

I twist the weapon around to get a better look at the black coating. It’s well taken care of. Everything Ghost does is so meticulous and thought out. So, to see him leave the cabin in such a haste is cause for concern on its own. Did my words really affect him that much? Or was that all his own doing?

Part of me wonders if he’s watching through the window. Does he think I’d risk attempting to shoot him? I could turn the gun around in my hand. He wouldn’t expect that. None of them would. But then neither of us would get what we want. I’d never see my family again. There’s no satisfaction in the thought.

I also know I couldn’t kill anyone else either. No matter the harm they’ve done. There’s already so much pain in the world. Who am I to add to it? Who am I to decide who gets to live or die? I’m no God.

Yet, I can’t help but wonder if the world would be better off without men like him.

So, I set the gun back down on the table. And then I pick it up again. I slide the magazine out and take each bullet. I slip them into my pillowcase. This is as much power as I take back tonight. Whatever Ghost does if or when he returns is all on him. I am staying as far from this game as possible. I never wanted any part. There are enough men dead because of me.

I sleep with the sound of bullets quietly rubbing and clinking against each other beneath my skull. When I feel his hand cold against my skin, I swear I see Death himself.

The ragged gasp for air feels like my first breath. My heart is racing. I feel the hot, meaty muscle as it climbs its way up my throat and suffocates me as it beats against my windpipe. Thump, thump, thump. My eyes immediately lock on the ominous shadow.

Ghost slowly retracts his hand. He smells like sweat and the outdoors. The cold scent lingers on his clothes and mixes with the smell of burning wood present in the cabin.

Moonlight filters in through the window and mixes with the warm glow of the fire. Between the two, I can just make out the watchful eyes behind the balaclava. He sits on the edge of the bed with both hands now resting on his thighs. I didn’t even feel the dip.

I sit up and pull my knees to my chest and away from him.

��How long were you there?” I don’t expect much of a response. I don’t know if I want one. Once I open this door, there are only so many places it can lead.

“A while,” Ghost’s voice is quiet and strained. He says he’s been here a while, yet his hands are still cold. Or maybe I just imagined they were cold. None of this feels real anymore, only my drumming heart demanding resolve. “Where are the bullets for my handgun?” his question catches me off guard. I didn’t think he’d notice so soon. Maybe he has been here a while? Maybe he already knows. I glance at the table to see the shadows of the weapons in the same spot as before, visibly untouched.

“I hid them,” I say without making eye contact. If I do, he’ll know for certain where they are. There’s something about him that’s almost angelic in the way he reads people. It’s utterly terrifying.

“Why?”

“I’m not sure anymore,”

“Y/n, you know I’m not going to shoot you,” It almost comes out like a question. I know, in theory at least. He can’t shoot me because he needs me, but does that mean he won’t?

Part of me knows he won’t because there are better ways to kill a person. Cleaner ways. More personal ways. They could make it look like an accident. 141 could erase me from existence - make it look like I was never born - if they haven’t already.

“Why are we doing this?” my voice is barely audible. His actions over the last day have left me feeling more confused than ever. First, he says it was all a part of his plan and now he’s saying it wasn’t. Deciphering the truth has become more frustrating than ever. 

“Could you recognize the men who did this to you?” I hear the strain in his voice again, like he’s holding back.

“I was blindfolded,”

“Their voices?”

I shake my head. “They all blend together,” A pent-up breath escapes my chest. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does,” he lowly urges. “Y/n, I need you to know what happened to you was unacceptable. That was never the plan. You were to be kept on a low dose of drugs for a limited amount of time, just enough to disorient you. What they did – those marks on your skin – should have never happened. Never,” He insists. I wrap my arms around my knees as he shifts closer. An anxious feeling creeps up the back of my neck. “I can’t punish them if I don’t know who they are.”

“I don’t want more people getting hurt because of me,” I finally look at him. He leans toward me with one hand resting on the bed. There’s a nervousness in the air. 

“Not because of you. Actions have consequences,” he says. “Their behaviour will be corrected.”

“Please don’t,” I quietly beg as I shift onto my knees. I take a risk and gingerly grab onto his forearm. “It’s not worth it,” I’m livid it happened in the first place, but their punishment is just spreading the pain around in my name. I don’t want that. I want it to end.

“If I don’t, it’ll happen again,” Ghost says as he looks down at my hand. His words are resolute. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach. His strong arm is tense under the henley, but I don’t pull away.

“What about the man behind this one?” I reach to pull my shirt over my shoulder. His soulful eyes latch onto the bruised skin. Ghost’s chest heaves with a deep sigh. He knew this was coming.

“He needs more than just correction,” Ghost’s eyes are glued to the marks.

“Like what?” I risk the question. It’d be so easy for him to shut me out. To turn around and leave. But I need to know. What kind of a person is he? How does he perceive his own cruelty? I silently pray he stays. 

“Only Hell can help him,” Simon finally looks up. His eyes are filled to the brim with so many emotions, they’re hard to discern. But what stands out the most is how much pain is evident behind that mask.

“I don’t believe that,” I grip his arm tighter. Part of me is afraid of his answer. I don’t know the truth behind his words. I only have a small idea of the violence he’s capable of. I’ve only glanced through a crack in the window of pain he’s caused and even that was significant.

“You don’t know half the things I’ve done, y/n,” his hands tighten into fists. 

“I’ve cut, burned, fucking butchered people without a second thought. I kill men. It brings me so much pleasure to watch those animals die, y/n. I’m not someone who can live without violence,” Ghost starts to tremor. ”There are only so many places for a man like me.”

I shake my head. “I don’t…I don-”

“Believe it,” Ghost cuts me off. “Look at what I did to you,” he moves closer as his other hand reaches up to my exposed arm. Ghost’s fingers lightly trace the bruises. His hands are hot, different from how I remembered them moments ago. There’s a warmth to him, even if he refuses to acknowledge it. Part of me wants to make excuses for him: that it was the heat of the moment, or because I knowingly withheld information that put us all at risk. That doesn’t make it okay. None of this is okay. My moral lines have become so blurred within the last several weeks, it’s hard to know when they’ve been crossed.

I don’t know what to say to him. I focus on the feeling of his gentle fingers on my arm.

“It was the only thing that fixed my father,” His voice deepens. I’m not prepared for where this conversation is about to go. I feel my heart racing in my chest, ready to break free. “I used to hate him for the things he did, how he’d hurt my brother and mum. Fuck, would he hurt her. He hated her and took every ounce of hate out on that woman. He left her beaten and bruised for years,” Ghost wraps his hand around my arm, under the dark bruise. “And look at me now. Look what I’ve done to you. You don’t deserve this.”

My throat tightens and I feel tears prick at my eyes. I tilt my head back and force them down. I feel his careful gaze follow down my neck, across my collarbones, then land on the damning marks above his fingers.

“You’re better than he is, Simon,” it’s barely a whisper.

“You don’t know me,” Ghost’s voice cracks.

“Maybe not. But you’re here right now. And that tells me all I need to know,” our eyes lock together. I see the distress behind his mask. How he so badly wants to believe me. “Simon, I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t. You don’t know how this ends, y/n,” he murmurs. I shift closer to him again so that our legs rest against each other. His breathing deepens at our proximity. His hand leaves my arm to wrap around a strand of hair. He examines it quietly, his thumb slowly tracing the length.

I feel the heat and tension radiating from his body, yet find myself strangely at ease in his presence. He cares. He won’t dare say it, but I can feel it in his gentle touches, the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. He had my back when his men were making crude jokes in the van. I think of his concern for me when we were at the last safehouse and I didn’t have shoes. How he lingered to make sure I was okay. How he gave me an extra blanket and touched my shoulders when everyone else was sleeping. I remember when he immediately noticed something was off after the prisoner confronted me. The first thing he did was make sure I was okay. He’s always cared.

My heart still races, but not because I’m scared. My fear has morphed into a more dangerous emotion. One I can’t say out loud. One that would put both of our lives in danger.

When I look into his dark eyes, I see them mirroring my own. Shadowy pools of desire lap at his irises.

“Y/n,” he warns as I look up at him. His eyes flicker down to my bottom lip brawn between my teeth.

“Can I lift your mask?” his head starts to shake even before I’ve finished speaking. “Just a little,” my voice is barely audible. The warm glow of the fire bounces off the walls. Ghost is tinted red. He tilts his head down, searching my eyes. Part of him is still reluctant to trust me. There have been so many people in his life who’ve betrayed him, who’s to say I won’t do the same?

“Ok,” he whispers, dropping the strand of hair.

My hands meet the hem of the balaclava, resting just above his sternum. I slowly roll the fabric up, leaving time for him to stop me. This is the first time he’s ever allowed another person to do this. I feel his vulnerability with each shaky breath. The backs of my fingers trace along his neck as I move the fabric. The scruff that lines his neck and jaw brush against my hands. His adam’s apple bobs as he forces down a nervous swallow. “Just a little more.”

I move the mask just above his jaw. Like the rest of him, it’s sharp and strong. Dark hairs fill in the space after missing his daily shave. Ghost’s hands move to my outer thighs and his thumbs rub along my skin with a reassuring pressure. I bring the mask over his lips and rest the excess material over his nose. Ghost presses his full, slightly chapped lips together as he watches my eyes roam his face.

Part of me wonders why hasn’t he stopped me. Does he yearn for the same type of connection? Does he think about me in the dead of night with wandering hands? Is this something we’ll use against each other in the future? Will there be a future? All of this is a bad idea. But I can’t help the longing. The yearning. How badly I want to feel his hands on my bare skin. Tangled in my hair. Reaching the darkest parts of me.

When I look up, his eyes are so incredibly intense, it’s impossible to look away. A large hand cups my cheek and wraps around the back of my head. Neither of us dares to move any further. We stay frozen in a state of almost vulnerability. It’s not too late to turn back.

It’s hard to see where his irises end and pupils begin, they’re so dark. His eyes hold every word he’s too afraid to say. Words are dangerous. They confirm every want and desire. I’m no braver than he is, not by a mile. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something I’ll regret.

Ghost leans down and rests his masked forehead against mine. The soft fabric presses into my face. His nose tenderly brushes against my own.

“Y/n,” he murmurs as his thumb tenderly traces along my skin. “You have no idea the things you do to me,” I feel goosebumps run down my back at his low, sultry voice. Simon’s cool breath fans against the nape of my neck.

The air between us is charged with tension. I feel a heat start to burn low in my stomach.

Ghost doesn’t move any closer. He has aired his desires. Now it’s my turn. How far do I want this to go? How far am I willing to take it? Nothing happens unless I initiate.

I run my hand along his strong jaw as I lean forward. I hesitantly brush against his lips, providing one last opportunity for us to turn back. Simon ghosts his lips above my own. My muscles tense in anticipation and my breathing is fast and shallow. I loop a finger through his belt loop and pull him closer. 

Ghost takes this as permission and gently presses his lips onto mine. The kiss is soft and fearful and longing. After a breath, I pull away ever so slightly to read his eyes. They open slowly and linger on my lips for a moment longer. Ghost swallows thickly before looking up. There’s an insatiable hunger swimming in those dark pools of desire.

I long for those hot August days spent on the poolside almost as much as I long for him to drag me under the surface. I feel Ghost’s calloused hands moving up the side of my body like waves. Shivers run along my spine. My senses feel heightened. My lungs burn as icy water floods every cavity. I want him to hold me under until every breath of air is stolen from my lips.

Ghost shifts onto his knees and slowly stalks above me. His moves are calculated and predatory. There is only one thing he is on the hunt for. Only one thing that can fully satisfy his appetite.

I lean back as he moves closer until I’m fully pressed against the bed. Ghost leans down on his elbows as his knee urges my legs apart. A dull pulse throbs in my lower stomach. A large hand brushes the hair out of my face as he leans closer.

The kiss is harder this time, needier. Simon’s breath is hot against my mouth. My lungs smoulder with each breath, threatening to burst into flames. I run my hand under the back of his mask into his hair. I want more of him.

“Sweetheart,” my heart skips at the name. “How far can I take this?” his hands cup the side of my face. There’s a different type of seriousness in his eyes that I haven’t seen before.

“All the way,” I watch as he licks his lips in anticipation. “I want all of you.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I have to be gentle with you,” but I don’t want him to be gentle. I want every pent-up emotion branded into my skin with an iron rod. He’s held back so much from me. I want everything out in the open.

“All of you,” I repeat, brushing my thumb against his jaw.

“Y/n,” he warns as his lips brush against my ear. There’s an exciting sharpness to his tone.

“Don’t hide from me,” I whisper.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he holds his head up to search my face. There’s genuine fear behind his eyes, but as they flicker down at my lips again there’s an even stronger desire. Once he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop. Every part of his life is so disciplined, that once he relinquishes control, all self-restraint is gone.

“I trust you,” I trace my thumb above his full lips, pausing in the center. His brows furrow, waiting for me to take my words back, change my mind, tell him I don’t mean it. But I do. “I trust you, Simon.”

He uses the last of his restraint to search my eyes one last time. There’s no uncertainty, no fear or hesitancy. I want all of him. Need all of him. Desire burns within my core and he is the only one who can satisfy it. 

His lips are hot and fervorous. Ghost’s eager fingertips drag across my pliable flesh as his hands skim under the hem of my shirt. I want to feel his touch everywhere, my lips, my neck, arms, and chest. I need him everywhere. I want to be consumed by him.

His sweet tongue slips between my lips. It’s a natural motion I welcome with my own. He’s gentle at first, cautious even. But then the hunger grabs a hold of him. His teeth latch onto my bottom lip and pull. Dark eyes test the waters as he gauges my reaction. How far can he really go? A small gasp escapes my chest and I almost miss the corner of his mouth twitching into a devious grin. 

“When I tell you to do something, say yes sir,” his husky voice whispers into my ear as a large hand lightly wraps around my throat.

“Okay,” I respond. He’s not the only one testing the waters. I feel the strong hand tighten ever so slightly. I can’t help a sly smile at his reaction. “Yes sir,” the words noticeably arouse him. Ghost draws in a deep breath as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth. I think of all the times I offhandedly called him that the last several weeks. I wish I knew what a hold it had on him. “Is that better, sir?” I tease.

“You’re trouble,” his tone is suggestive. I love the feeling of his hot breath hitting my neck. I want to feel it drift even lower.

Ghost’s hands are back at the hem of my shirt. He gently tugs at the fabric and I take the signal to sit up and slide it off. I toss it to the side as his eyes take in my figure. I notice how they falter on some of the larger bruises, but in another instant, they’re back on me.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs.

His rough hands travel up my torso - taking care to avoid the bruised areas - as his lips find my neck. He starts off slow, deeply kissing me behind the ear, before moving towards the nape as he begins to suck on my tender skin. One hand begins to tenderly massage my breasts. I feel my eyes flutter shut with pleasure, but then a small part of me remembers I don’t want marks left above the hem of my shirt, especially these kinds of marks.

“Your turn,” I tug on the bottom of his henley.

“That’s not how you ask,” he mumbles as his teeth rake against my skin.

“Please, sir?” he thoughtfully hums against my neck.

Ghost sits up as he straddles me to pull his shirt off with one hand. My breathing hitches. He is stunning. Years of relentless work have shaped him into the machine he is today. Ghost is built like a predator. Strong, sturdy, and sharp. Scars from past challengers and victims litter his chest like medals. His tattoo wraps around the entire length of his arm, around his shoulder, and spanning across half his chest. I’m left speechless as he leans down to meet me again.

My hands unapologetically travel across his vast chest. His muscles flex under the pads of my fingers and I’m reminded of just how strong he is. But I don’t get far, Ghost grabs both wrists with one hand and pins them above my head. He enjoys looking down at me, completely under his power. There’s something about our size difference that is thrilling. He is in complete control. He can do whatever he wants.

Ghost’s lips return where they left off, slowly moving down my delicate body. Past my neck, down my sternum, and right to the spot he is looking forward to the most. His other hand wraps around my back, finding the clasp to my bra. His eyes peer up through his mask, looking to me for permission to keep going. I give him a small nod and immediately I feel the release of the band. He slides the bra up my arms, letting go of my wrists only to free us of it once and for all before grabbing them again. Ghost’s other hand returns to my back, urging me to arch my chest to his lips.

Sharp teeth nip at my soft breasts between deep kisses that are certain to leave more bruises. Ghost adds more pressure to my back as he pushes me closer. He takes his tantalizing time teasing me with his tongue as it swirls around my nipple before the abrupt feeling of his teeth pulling on my skin takes over. I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips. I press my lips together to hide my heavy breathing, but it doesn’t get past him.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he tastes the tender skin. “No one around for miles.”

Both his hands wrap around my waist as he pulls me flush against his chest. I take the opportunity to run a hand along the waistband of his pants, slipping a finger just under the edge of the fabric. Ghost pauses as his chest heaves from the movement. I grab his jaw and guide his lips to mine again, mimicking his previous movements by tugging on his lower lip with my teeth. I can’t help the growing smile on my face.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart,” his hand trails down my stomach, slipping between my pants and underwear. Two thick fingers circle around me above the thin piece of fabric with growing pressure. My head sinks back into the pillow as my breathing becomes more jagged. Sparks fill my vision from the intense pressure. 

“Oh fuck,” I whimper from his touch. His eyes are intent on my face as they watch the pleasure wash over me.

“That’s a good girl,” he says eagerly. “Wet for me already?”

My thoughts are too twisted to come up with a smart response. I press harder against him for more traction. If only he knew how much I’ve thought about his hands and all the things his fingers can do.

While slipping a hand under the fabric, he leans down letting his lips press against my neck. Our bare chests brush against each other and his other hand winds through my hair. Ghost fists the strands against the back of my head and slowly pulls back, further exposing my neck for better access. I feel the edge of his teeth take my tender flesh between them. I imagine the marks that will litter down my neck leading across my chest.

A thick finger slips into me while his thumb focuses on my clit. The feeling is so intense I can’t help the moans escaping from deep within my throat. Ghost pulls harder on my hair. A deep chuckle reverberates through his chest. He’s enjoying this. 

I wrap a hand around his belt, pushing the leather through the loop, ready to pull it off, but then a large hand clasps over mine.

“So soon?” Ghost teases. The intense pressure of his other hand leaves between my legs as he slides his belt off. The buckle jingles as he twists the leather into itself. When I look down, I realize what he’s created.

There are two spaces for a set of hands to slide through while the belt acts as a pair of handcuffs.

“Simon,” his name is breathy on my tongue.

“Arms up,” he orders.

I raise my hands above my head and feel the leather restraints slip over my fists. “Not tight,” I tell him. His eyes glance down at me and he seems to understand. He pulls the leather band, leaving just enough space that I could escape if I really needed to, before looping the leather back through the buckle.

“Okay?” he whispers and I nod my head in response. “Atta girl,” the side of his mouth quirks up.

I watch Simon trail his thoughtful lips down my torso. He pauses at each bruise, pressing a tender kiss lightly on top of each one. Butterflies swarm inside my stomach. I never thought I’d see such a man be so gentle.

Simon’s thumbs rub in circles over the corner of my hips as he makes his way even lower. There’s a growing anticipation between my legs as I wrap one around his back, pulling him closer.

The black mask lowers between my legs. Swollen lips kiss the inside of my thighs. The edge of his teeth grazes the tender flesh. I draw in a sharp gasp as he bites down. Hard. A full pain throbs along my inner thighs. His previous gentleness slips away. This will leave a bruise lasting for days.

“These are the only marks I want to see on your skin,” his passionate eyes look up from between my legs. The black balaclava covers the rest of his face aside from his lips. How I’d love to run my hands through his hair.

Simon’s arms wrap around my legs to hold me down by my hips. I grasp the belt with whitened knuckles as he moves up, leaving another mark, but not before pressing an apologetic kiss to the area. Small whimpers escape my tight throat as he switches legs and leaves a growing trail of marks closer and closer to the hem of my underwear. I want him to make me feel good again.

“Please Simon,” I feel his lips humorously twitch against my skin.

He pulls away and all of his delicious warmth leaves with him. Simon rests on his knees, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight before him. All I can think about is the heat of his hands as they travel over my skin. Fuck, I need him. I need him everywhere. In the darkest parts of my body and soul.

A rough thumb traces over my lips. “You still want this?” there’s doubt in his voice, like he’s expecting me to change my mind.

“So, fucking bad,” my lips move against his thumb. I take him in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the thick digit, lightly starting to suck on him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he mutters under his breath. His other hand slides beneath his jeans as I press my mouth further down on his thumb. But I don’t let him relish in the feeling.

“I need you, Simon,” I murmur. “Please, sir,” my voice is breathy and desperate.

I can feel the need pooling between my thighs. I ache for his touch.

His hands light my skin on fire as he slips my underwear off, pulling them down my legs. Simon wastes no time stepping out of his jeans, his large erection straining against his boxers.

“Of all thing things I’ve wanted to do to you,” he cups himself over the fabric. I wait for him to expand on his thoughts, but he doesn’t, simply leaving them to hang in the thick air.

Simon grasps himself over his boxes, slowly stroking as he watches me. My eyes never leave his. I feel the growing heat of the fire burning within me. With every stroke, he stokes the flames.

He leans down, lips hovering above mine. One hand gently holds my cheek while the other wraps around his tip. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes into my mouth before tenderly meeting my lips. A small vein of nervousness is present at the back of my mind, but I channel all of my attention into my growing desire.

Simon adjusts his position as the boxers slide down. The anticipation is too much. He bites his bottom lip as the head of his cock traces my entrance. My heart is pounding. My hands grasp at the belt.

“Relax,” he glances up at me. “You’re tense.”

A gentle hand massages my inner thighs along the bite marks he left. The length of his shaft glides across my clit, sending tingles up my spine.

“Simon-”

“Look at me y/n. I want to see your face when I stretch you out,” my breathing falters at his words. I dare to look him in the eyes just as he pushes in for the first time. Fucking hell.  The feeling is completely unmatched. My breathing is heavy. Simon’s thumbs rub reassuring circles along my inner thighs to ease the sensation between my legs.

“Oh God,” I whimper, tensing around his thick tip. His eyes hungrily watch my expression, burning it to memory. The amount of pleasure he gets from watching is almost equal to that of participating. Simon’s fingers circle my clit with a heavy pressure. I feel the throbbing intensify as he begins to push deeper. I hold back a whimper as he pushes deeper, stretching my tight walls around him.

“Fuck, y/n,” he growls. “You’re doing so good.”

Simon gently moves back before thrusting further in. My walls pulse around his thick cock as he picks up pace. My legs are wrapped around his broad back. One of his hands roughly kneads a breast as he bows his head into the nape of my neck. The metal dog tags hanging around his throat swing in the space between us, bouncing against my skin.

Simon’s breath is hot as it travels down my neck and across my chest. With every clench around him, I’m rewarded with soft needy moans into my ear as he nips at my lobes.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” his breathy voice rumbles against my neck. I feel the tightness in my stomach begin to build as he thrusts harder and his hands press into my clit. The world around me blurs. I’ve never been fucked this hard before. He feels so damn good; it’s like he was made just for me.

His hand drags across my breast, up to my neck as he wraps his strong fingers around the vulnerable area. I should’ve known he wants complete control. For so long he had none, now it rules every aspect of his life.

“You take me so well, y/n,” my name drips sweetly off his tongue like honey. I want to hear him say it over and over again. y/n. y/n. y/n. Fuck, does that sound good.

Every muscle in my body begins to tighten. My breathing quickens. My heart is racing. Every sense feels incredibly heightened. A lucid feeling begins to take over as Ghost’s grip around my throat tightens.

“Don’t go quiet on me now,” his hand moves to my jaw.

“I’m close,” I gasp as the blood rushes back to my face. My cheeks feel hot under his intense gaze. “Simon I-” his name rolls off my tongue, but I lose track of my thoughts. With every thrust, I feel him deeper in my soul. All of the pain. All of the tortures of our diverged pasts are melding together. Right now, I have all of him.

Simon keeps his pace but thrusts his throbbing cock even harder. The sound of skin hitting skin overtakes the crackling fire. The heat is almost too much. Like a flame under a tank of propane. Pressure builds under the heat, ready to combust.

“I, I-” fuck, I can’t think. It’s too much. His hands are tightly woven into my skin. My fingers are white against the leather. My heartbeat is so damn loud. My face twists towards the covers as my body writhes under his touch.

“Don’t look away now sweetheart,” his voice is so incredibly thick with need. “I’ll stop if you look away,”

His dark eyes are a whirlpool pulling me in. Suddenly I forget how to swim. Simon drags me under as his thick fingers wrap around the sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasp as my lungs breathe in water. His lips are heavy against my own. My vision darkens and no other pleasure in the world can match the burning sensations coursing through my veins. My orgasm is the sun’s light from the bottom of the ocean.

I break the surface as Simon’s hot lips hastily press against my forehead. His movements quicken and his grunts deepen. His hands roughly grab onto my waist as he thrusts into me with uneven, jarring movements.

“Fuck, Simon,” the whimper is soft against his skin and the cause of his undoing. His hard cock throbs against my walls once more as he collapses against me from pleasure and exhaustion. Simon’s heavy body lays limp on top of mine. The weight is comforting and safe. No one else in the world can touch me. Only him.

Simon reaches up to undo the belt and free my hands which find their way to his broad back. I trace invisible pictures across the vast space, skimming across old scars and the edge of his tattoo. His hand gently runs down the length of my hair, petting the top of my head. I feel my eyes begin to droop as sleep creeps up from behind me. I want him to hold me forever.

He pushes himself up on his elbows, arms caging me in as his dark eyes peer down at me. The emotions behind Simon’s eyes are too conflicted to decipher. A cautious thumb brushes along the side of my face. For a moment, he simply stares at me, trying to memorize everything that’s just happened and the gravity of it.

“Y/n, I need you to listen very closely,” he murmurs, pulling the balaclava back over his jaw. I feel my brows furrow as a different type of tension takes over.

“Okay,” my voice is barely audible.

“No one can ever know about this,” Ghost’s tone is soft, but I don’t miss the significance that is present. I pause to think about his words. Really think about them. What are the consequences of what we’ve just done? Our actions have just irreversibly complicated 141’s entire mission. Possibly even damaged it.

“What happens if they find out?”

Simon doesn’t respond. I feel a growing, hollow, cavity within me as I consider what happens to the people who interfere with their missions.

This was a mistake. A consequential mistake.

Pt 15:

[fernsnailz]

Not sure how much meat this question has to it but if back in 2006 you were the one that spearheaded the shadow the hedgehog game, how would you have done it?

i'd want ShTH 2005 to keep the same core energy its final form ended up with, but tbh there's a lot i would have done differently lol. here's my 3 step plan for how i would have directed it previously/would direct any sort of reboot or remaster

1. TIMELOOP!!!!!!

i'm not the first person to come up with this idea and i won't be the last to talk about it, but the gist of this point is that ShTH's story makes WAY more sense when you treat it like a timeloop. you finished a story path and end up back in westopolis? great job, you're at the beginning of the timeloop again. it's a smart way to make this wack story a little more cohesive.

i would LOVE to further utilize the timeloop concept for this game because it could be a very simple addition to add flavor OR it be the core of the game's story and gameplay. small things like shadow going "hey wait, have i seen this before?" when he's going through westopolis for the third time can hint at the narrative, and once shadow realizes he's in a loop he's motivated to find EVERY path in search of the full truth. every new story path could be treated as a new game+ as shadow starts to consistently remember more from previous timeloops, carrying over certain weapons, abilities, and memories from his previous experiences.

one really cool idea i saw a while ago on here (edit: FOUND IT! i'm talking about this post) is someone's ShTH timeloop pitch where after a few resets, silver starts to show up and tells shadow to stop messing with the timeline. this continues, and eventually silver becomes a final boss of some of the paths. this idea has never left my mind since i saw it and i need to find the person that came up with it they mean so much to me

i have more timeloop thoughts but i will move on for now

2. simplify or rework the morality system and levels

this is my big gameplay critique - there is A Lot to do in ShTH and very little of it is consistently fun. i have grievances with the morality system i talked about a while ago, the gist of my opinion boiling down to "the system removes agency from shadow and the story doesn't fit within the morals you choose anyway." i'd either MASSIVELY rework the morality system to make it feel worthwhile or just throw the whole thing away. unfortunately i don't have many pitches for what to replace it with since i haven't played that many games with branching stories - maybe the story paths you go down are based on BIG story decisions shadow makes during boss battles or in cutscenes (?) like choosing which boss to fight, which characters to save, what moves or weapons to use, stuff like that. i just want the stuff that leads to branching stories to be more impactful and a little simpler.

this also applies to the levels, of which there are... a lot. and maybe there should be less? i think it would be smart to cut down or combine some of the levels, then really flesh out the ones that matter. and given the non-linear nature of ShTH, i think a version with levels more focused on exploration and combat would fit the game better than the linear mission-based gameplay of the original.

3. MORE GUN

listen man. they advertised this as the sonic game with guns and in my opinion i think they could've done better. i mostly just want a more fleshed out weapons system with upgrades, a little customization, better controls, etc. just put the merchant from resident evil 4 in there and have him accept rings and i would be happy

-------------------------

those are the big points i would personally stick to, but i do have smaller points i would consider as well, including:

make black doom seem competent

explain who the chaotix are working for and fit it into the story

no more "kill this many enemies to progress" missions. please

super shadow can have a gun now

[sadistic-kiss]

🐺House of Alphas Chapter 53: Let There Be Light🐺

(Jujutsu Kaisen Omegaverse )

Summary: Waking up in a world that was not your own was problematic enough. Being the villainess was another. However, the possessive alphas might take the cake.

Disclaimer: Angsty but I ain’t Gege

Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sukuna x Alpha!Gojo x Alpha!Toji x Alpha!Nanami x Alpha!Getou

~

…

Shadow Curses.

When you fight them, an ominous tune begins to play. A grueling symphony that has you both fearful for your group and perplexed by the daunting harmony.

Shadow curses were more aggressive and stronger than the others. The regular curse spirits were simple mobs that you killed. Some of them range from different strengths and levels depending on where you are, but for the most part, they were just dirt off your shoulder. Sometimes you tried to run or avoid them because you didn’t want to deal with them.

There were also of course the curse bosses such as Jogo, Hanami, Dagon, Mahito, and Rika, but those were bosses.

Shadow curses were like the updated trash mobs you fight when you are getting to the more difficult part of the game. You try to avoid them just because you don’t want to use too many supplies and they are trickier to fight. More of an annoyance, until you learn Divine light. Then it’s easier.

You first come into contact with them one random blood moon and after that, it continues to persist throughout the game. You meet Priestest Utahime who helps you strengthen your light magic and teaches you the special move Divine light.

One thing that you are learning now is that shadow creatures consume dark magic to get their strength. You thought all of its power derived from Kenjaku or the blood moon. Now you realize this fight here is what gives it to them. The witches’ home is their feasting grounds. You could feel the abundance amount of energy flowing through the floors alone. The energy that courses through this place is insane. If you don’t do something…the monsters will get stronger and much too powerful for even you to handle. If that happens they will consume your pack. It was like a ticking time bomb. Your curse energy was the timer. Once that runs out…

Fuckity fuck- you rubbed at your throat, your voice growing hoarse from all the screaming. Your alphas still persisted as you began to drown in uncertainty.

One episode down and you are already dealing with high-level mobs. You thought all of this was going to be a cakewalk, you planned so carefully but you keep coming into contact with shit you shouldn’t be fighting so soon. Your light magic isn’t anywhere where it needs to be. You mainly used it to heal not fight. You didn’t think you would require it till later.

“It’ll be okay, don’t stress out.” Toji rubbed your back gently, sensing your discomfort.

“We will keep you safe.” Nanami added.

“I’m going to attack the barrier, there’s only so much it can handle, step back.” Sukuna rolled his shoulders as he took his true form, ready to charge.

That was a silly idea. “No Sukuna, you could hurt yourself.”

“That’s why I have you to heal me back up.” Sukuna got in a crouch, as the others pulled you aside to safety.

“Can we just wait a minute-“

“There’s no time-“

“We can take turns too if need be “

*BAM!*

There was a loud slam, followed by scuffing and shuffling as if someone was dragging themselves along the wall. Your eyes darted to Mai who struggles to get to you, a deep scowl on her face as she bores you with the most scornful expression. Her body looks bloodied and abused. Like she had a wild dance with rocks.

“You!” She hissed holding her gun up. “How are you doing this!?”

“It’s not us!” Gojo scoffed.

“Let me-“You put a hand upon Satoru and gave a look to your alphas before you rested your gaze on the beta. “Mai… those creatures are of the shadow realm, your magic can’t kill them and the witches are only feeding them, making them stronger.” You hold up your hand as it shines with white light, “I can fend them off Mai please-“

“This is a trick! To let you out!” Mai thrust her gun forward making your alphas growl and try to stand between you and a possible bullet.

You push them aside, “Mai! My betas are out there! I would do nothing to harm them! Do you understand?! And Nobara-Maki- and Todo! They are my friends! I don’t want to see any of them get hurt! You have to believe me!”

Mai’s hand trembled and you heard more screams- and then it was silenced with a loud crunch. That was another life… gone… you choked on a sob, “Mai! They can’t defend themselves! Please! There’s no time for this!”

“You’re lying!”

“I-it’s not me! If you don't let me out, they will all die fuck-“ You duck down to grab a sharp rock.

“What are you doing-“

You didn’t allow your alphas to stop you as cut your hand. Thrusting it out you offered it to Mai, “I will make a blood oath with my life-“

“The hell you will!” You gasped feeling Nanami snatch your wrist back, you didn’t mean to activate yandere Nanami but here you are, “Do you know what a blood oath is little girl?” He growled out rather upset with you. Your other alphas looked to share his sentiment.

A blood oath was more than a pinky promise. Think of it like a contract you cannot rip up. By the laws of nature, you will be held accountable.

“I-I don’t know what else to do!” You whined.

“I’ll make the blood oath.” Getou took the rock from you.

“No, me!” Gojo stepped forward.

“Enough!” Mai shouted at you all. “Just…just save them please…” She slid down the wall and with one last ounce of strength she tossed the key toward you.

Sukuna caught it with ease, turning it inward as he unlocked the gate.

“Don’t you ever do something so reckless again.” Nanami gave you a pointed look, not letting you go until you agreed.

“Yes sir…I’m sorry.” Pleased with your answer he released you. You stepped out and then pointed to Mai, “Can one of you carry her, I’m going to need to save as much of my light magic as possible.”

Sukuna shook his head, “She will slow us down.”

“Yes, we will remember her noble sacrifice.” Gojo saluted, “Thank you, Megan.”

You rolled your eyes, “Someone pick her up and let’s go!”

...

~

*Read More*

[starry-nights12]

U 🫵 tell me Everything about What We Do In The Shadows

YOU GOT IT DUDE!!! (Wip Ask Game)

CW:Talk of Torture

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Ekko kicked open the door with his metal pipe drawn and Jinx gripping her pistol.

The bioluminescent algae soft glow from the window was the only source of light provided in the dark room.

"I told you that no one would be here." Jinx put her gun in its holster and took her mask off.

"Silco took me here sometimes. Singed must have figured after I bombed the council I would come looking for him and relocated."

"I know," Ekko removed his mask and held his weapon over his shoulder. "But I rather be safe than sorry."

"Yeah, Little Man," Jinx walked down the stairs and dragged her finger on the railing. "This dust will kill us all." she smiled teasingly.

Ekko chuckled and followed her. "Shut up."

"Oh, so you want me to kill you then?" she wiped her dust-coated finger on the back of his jacket.

Ekko swatted her hand away. "You can kill me after we kill Singed." he surveyed the papers scattered across the floor.

"He has to be scared of you. He left in a hurry." Ekko grinned.

"He better be fucking terrified of me." she spat.

"I'm going to tie him up. Then one by one, I'm going to insert needles in his skin and watch him squirm and bleed.

He's going to scream in agony. Then I'm going to be the one laughing and smiling this time." she seethed, her eyes glowing brightly to indicate her rage.

Ekko put his hands on his girlfriend's shoulders and gently rubbed them. "We will eventually, Sugarbomb," he assured. "All we have to figure out is where the hell he is."

[skaruresonic]

Your latest post about Sonic reminded me that apparently Pariah has joined the "Sonic has always been inconsistent" crowd, and he used this clip: https://www.tumblr.com/randomthefox/749471225809666048

But... What is the logic here? So the Classics were more lighthearted (except CD I guess) and the Adventure games were comparatively edgier, with their anime style and more serious stories. That is a change in direction, for sure. Let's even say they are two different "artistic perspectives". But to the point where you'd call them two different Sonics, the same way Boom Sonic is different from Modern Sonic?

I think "Sonic has always been inconsistent" has completely lost its meaning. The series has evolved in tone to match the times (Sonic was far from being the only videogame series who got more serious in the 2000s), but that doesn't mean Sonic became a different character in every game he starred in.

To be quite honest, I don't think it ever really meant anything to begin with. When you drill down to the bedrock of the sentiment, you'll find more often than not that it's just another thought-terminating cliché people trot out when they have no other way of elaborating themselves, because they always act like the claim is self-evident and not subject to scrutiny. Like how "Shadow mandates" are used to explain any and all poor Shadow portrayals. It's not a claim anyone can say has substance because all folks seem to use it for is to say "Sonic games bad."

They don't really provide examples of inconsistency because those examples don't exist on a diegetic level, just on an artistic or a marketing one, at most. Can't say I've ever seen a Sonic game where Sonic turns into a gun nut, lol.

---

But... What is the logic here? So the Classics were more lighthearted (except CD I guess) and the Adventure games were comparatively edgier, with their anime style and more serious stories. That is a change in direction, for sure. Let's even say they are two different "artistic perspectives".

I wouldn't even say that. SA1 takes heavy influence from the Classics. The divide between Adventure and Classic is not as deeply drawn as folks seem to think.

I feel like if you really zoomed out and tried to obtain the most holistic picture of the franchise possible, you'd see the series, for all of its ups and downs and all arounds... Really isn't that inconsistent.

The Adventure era is touted as serious business, but folks forget that some of those games could get goofy as shit, and Heroes is not an outlier in this regard. Even uber-serious '06 can get silly at times, what with missions to rescue beloved dogs being placed alongside "save the princess" as equally important objectives, and janky physics that make me want to hurl my controller across the room.

Likewise, the Classic era had moments of serious storytelling not in spite of its cartoonish aesthetic, but because of the power of its environmental storytelling.

Besides, if most of the confusion re. the series' "inconsistencies" can easily be cleared up by disregarding spinoff material (which includes the comics), can it really be said that it's the games made by ST that are inconsistent? Or would it be more accurate to say it's the external understanding of Sonic which fluctuates over time?

To be clear, I'm not trying to turning this into yet another JP vs. Western Sonic debate, because frankly, that doesn't matter. Not when the folks looking from the outside in refuse to see what's plainly there.

Also, think about it this way: if Sonic has always been inconsistent, then you're saying Sonic never had a coherent identity to begin with. Which means the argument rests on a self-contradiction. Either:

A.) you (general you) have to acknowledge that consistency once existed in the series in order to allow yourself enough berth to argue for a change in direction of the era of your choice... thus disproving the entire premise of "Sonic was always inconsistent,"

or B.) you need to apply the "inconsistent" label to every era, including the ones you prefer, thus rendering every "Sonic needs to go back to [XYZ] era" argument nonsensical. Because Sonic might as well build a new identity instead of appropriating old ones that, according to the argument, failed.

[ink-bunny-blue]

Winter Reading/Arting/Writing Tag

Tagged by @blind-the-winds . Thank you so much! I do love tag games where you get to just ramble about things

Describe one creative WIP project you plan on working on over winter

Well... I'm in the middle of a demotivated slump at the moment (just generally) so creative writing isn't my top priority right now. However, winter break starts next week, so I hope I get regain some energy and get back to the words. Because I miss them!

There's a short story I've started drafting for an anthology submission which closes at the end of the month. I don't know if I will get it done and fully polished by that time, but I really want it to work out. I've been meaning to publish short stories for a while now, because I feel my writing style fits well with them, plus it will give me an advantage if I traditionally publish a novel one day.

And like always, I'm trudging along slowly editing APOM whenever I have the stamina.

Recommend a book

The Shadow Of The Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon is always my go-to recommendation when people ask for one. It's a gorgeous historical mystery set in 1940s Barcelona, about a young boy who tries to solve the disappearance of a mysterious author. The prose and characterisation are top-tier, and has one of the best uses of The Power of Storytelling trope I've ever encountered. (I actually have a review of another book by the same author sitting in my drafts. I'll edit and post it eventually)

The Master And Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov has the exact kind of macabre whimsy that I seek out in stories. It follows the devil (disguised as a magician) and a band of demons as they wreck havoc around Soviet-era Moscow. The plot is difficult to explain, but its very clever and vivid, and one of the only books to ever make my cry with laughter. I like to describe it as "Alice In Wonderland but with guns and vodka"

Winterset Hollow by Jonathan Edward Durham is a hugely underrated book, and one of the most imaginative I've read in a long time. All I can say about it is: Imagine if Wind In The Willows was a horror novel. It had such a vivid setting, and ended up being such beautiful tragedy. If your into folk horror or anthropomorphic fiction, you should definitely look into it!

Recommend a fic

Disappointingly, I don't read fanfiction. It's never something that has appealed to me, even though I respect it as a craft. To make up for it, I recommended three books above instead of one.

Recommend Music

Indigo Night by Tamino- To me, this song feels like a lullaby from a fallen civilisation. It has a very ageless feel to it, and the lyrics tell a beautiful fairy-tale. In fact, every song on this album touches my soul.

Bernadette by IAMX- Gothic, whimsical, and theatrical. This one has inspired me on a creative level many many times, and it still sounds just as amazing as it did when I first discovered it years ago.

Youngest Daughter by Superheaven- I heard this one the other day, and I wish I could send it to my 13 year old self. It has the exact sound and mood I was seeking out in music back then. There's a post on this website that went around a while ago that was like "nostalgia can make you miss the worst points of your life" or something. This is what this song is doing to me at the moment.

...

Gently tagging: @k-v-briarwood @chauceryfairytales @writeouswriter

[atlantablack]

humming with the birds

on ao3 as well

Saturday 8:54 AM: Have a safe flight, Cap. Try to not worry too much about things on this end. 

Saturday 9:00 AM: Thanks, Sam. Stay safe. Call if you need me.

——

Sam can’t help but wonder in the days that follow Steve going back to New York, if he hasn’t made a mistake. Signed his life away to an impossible cause. It’s already been six months of chasing dead ends and coming up with nothing but dust and dirt and blood. If the two of them combined couldn’t find the ghost wearing Bucky’s face, then how is Sam supposed to find him all alone? 

But in the end, a week into his solo ghost hunting mission, it turns out he needn’t have worried — the ghost finds him. 

——

He’s packing his bag, getting ready to follow another lead Natasha’s passed him, when a gun presses itself to the back of his head. He goes very, very still. His knife is strapped to his thigh. His gun on the side table five feet away. Neither doing him a lick of good when the shape of his death has already been pressed into a bullet. 

“Turn around. Slowly.” The voice that speaks is low and rough, and despite never hearing Bucky talk he knows without a shadow of a doubt who he’s going to see when he turns around. 

Sure enough, when he turns, palms carefully turned to the ceiling he finds Bucky staring at him from underneath the brim of a nondescript tourist hat proclaiming “I love Glasgow”. The lighting is too dim to make out Bucky’s face, eyes lost to the shadows, mouth a thin line that does nothing but leave a chill spinning its way down Sam’s spine. 

“I take it you’re not here to apologize for the steering wheel then?” He drawls, meeting Bucky’s eyes over the barrel of the gun. 

Bucky shifts, mouth twisting, face tipping into the light for a second just long enough for Sam to catch sight of storm cloud blue eyes. “Stop following me. Rogers went home. You should do the same.” 

And Sam can’t help but bark out a laugh at that, disbelieving and furious all at once. “You’ve been tracking us all this time haven’t you?” 

The gun doesn’t waver but Bucky smirks, chin dipping like he doesn’t want Sam to see. “Go home, Wilson.” 

“You can’t be that oblivious. If I go home Steve will be back out here tomorrow. You gonna break into his room and threaten him too?” He snorts at the very thought. Can’t see any way that scenario ends except with blood. With Steve back in a hospital room. 

The thinnest line of tension threads through Bucky’s shoulders, and the gun shoves its way under Sam’s chin, finding purchase in the hollow of his neck. “Don’t worry about it,” Bucky snaps, stepping in closer and grabbing Sam’s wrist in a bruising grip where he’d been inching towards his knife. “Just do as you're told, and go home.” 

Now see, if Sam was smart, if he had someone to go home to, if he didn’t swallow danger and come up breathing adrenaline — well maybe he’d listen. Maybe he’d take the easy out Bucky is giving him and go back to DC and tell Steve that he wasn’t going to risk his life chasing a ghost that doesn’t want to be chased. But there’s a gun to his throat, fingers so tight around his wrist that he can feel all the little bones creaking beneath metal fingers, and his pulse is a bullet, is a dying star. An explosion that bursts out of his mouth and spills all over the floor between them when he says—

“Make me.”

Bucky laughs. A dry, rough sound that spreads the room and catches on all the fine hairs standing at attention on the back of Sam’s neck. His brain is screaming, danger. But his heart is screaming, I have teeth too, let’s see whose are sharper. 

“I could kill you right here, sweetheart,” Bucky says, still laughing. “Could take you apart until you tell me every secret Rogers has ever whispered to you. What are you going to do about it?”

There’s nothing but sincerity ringing through Bucky’s words. Sam’s death being dangled in front of his face as nothing but an irrelevant move in this chess game he’s unwittingly begun playing. And he should be scared. He knows this. Is scared if his racing heart, his pulse pounding out a war chant in his ears, is anything at all to go by. But the gun is warm against his skin, a threat that presses closer with every thick swallow. The fingers around his wrist are tight enough he’ll have bruises so stark everyone will be able to see the exact shape of Bucky fingers pressed to his skin. And yet. . . he’s not scared. Not in a way that holds weight. 

“Go ahead then,” he says softly, pressing closer until he can see every storm cloud gathering in Bucky's eyes. Wets his lips and grabs his knife with his other hand, presses it to the wrist of the hand holding the gun. “If you want me to stop chasing you, then kill me.” 

Bucky is silent for a long while, gun never wavering as he searches Sam’s face for something. And if Sam were to examine this too closely, to examine his own motives for being so foolhardy as to call the bluff of an assassin that has been stalking him for months with no one the wiser — well he’d find nothing he cares to think about too closely. Knows that his heart has never stopped carrying death wishes in the shape of Riley’s name, which is to say, that he has never stopped craving flying or falling, one and the same. 

“You’re not doing this for him,” Bucky says eventually, stepping back, gun falling to his side. “Who are you doing it for?” 

It’s stupid the way he immediately misses Bucky's grip on his wrist. Stupid how he already misses the fading adrenaline. “You seem awful sure of that,” he says evenly. 

Bucky shrugs, holsters his gun and tips back and forth on his feet while he considers Sam. “Stop following me, Sam. This is going to be the only warning I give you.” 

The jolt of hearing his own name from Bucky's mouth leaves him silent for long enough that Bucky turns to leave, doesn’t even think twice about turning his back to Sam, and he’s flinging the knife in his hand before he can think it through. 

Bucky dodges it, of course, stares at the door it’s embedded itself in, and then stalks back across the room to slam Sam into a wall. If Sam were the type of man to pray in his last moment he thinks maybe he’d start praying right now. Bucky’s face is a graveyard, the ghosts of every person to die at his hands thick in the air between them, and Sam has already called his bluff once, shouldn’t have pushed his luck a second time. 

He can’t move at all, Bucky’s body a long, hard line against his, keeping him effortlessly held against the wall. The metal fingers around his throat flex once and he swallows convulsively, holds Bucky’s gaze and waits. Can’t do anything but wait. Fancies he can hear a funeral march playing in the distance and wonders how long it’ll take Steve and Natasha to figure out what’s happened to him. 

“You’re not going to stop following me,” Bucky says quietly. It’s not a question, but Bucky licks his lips and pauses like he’s waiting for an answer regardless. 

“No,” Sam replies softly, tracks Bucky’s throat as he swallows, and then glances back up. “No. I’m not going to stop.” 

“I could kill you,” Bucky repeats, a shadow of lost confusion flashing its way across his face. “Go home Sam Wilson. Go back to Delacroix. Or DC. Go home.” 

And that. . . that scares him. The clear implication that Bucky knows about Sarah. That leaves frost growing on his tongue. But he still isn’t going to stop. And Bucky still hasn’t killed him. So there’s really only one thing left to say once more—

“If you’re going to kill me, then I’d really rather you get on with it.” He smirks, presses his weight forward best he can, and hisses as Bucky’s grip tightens on his throat. “Otherwise, get the hell out of my room.” 

Bucky’s silent for a very long time. The minutes stretching between them and Sam is too warm pressed up against the wall, Bucky’s body one long line of heat. There’s a razor sharp tightrope under his feet and he wants to jump off of it, wants to take the knife out of the door and cut the rope to pieces. Wants to keep pressing forward until Bucky’s body turns into something he can understand, until they’re both just bodies giving and taking. 

Sam has always had a thing for walking the edge of too much, for flying too close to the goddamn sun. Has always had a thing for smart men with steady hands and pretty mouths, and fuck if Bucky Barnes doesn’t tick every box Sam’s ever had. He should be praying for his life and instead all he can think about is the way Bucky’s mouth, his goddamn mouth, won’t stop parting all slick with confusion. 

“Go on,” Sam hears himself say, voice low, heat snaking through the words. “If you’re gonna kill me, baby, let’s get started. La petite mort.” He’s so warm he thinks he’s going to burn up, and Bucky hasn’t moved an inch, every line of his body pressed against Sam’s is a taunt, a temptation. 

Bucky shivers, pupils blown wide, nothing but a thin ring of winter sky left. His hand falls from Sam’s throat and he grins, viciously pleased and presses forward with his full weight until their nose to nose. “I’m not going to stop following you,” he says once more for good measure, laser focused on the way Bucky’s mouth parts trembling. 

And in the space of a breath, Bucky’s across the room, wide-eyed with red spots high on his cheeks. He swallows hard, opens his mouth and then shuts it again. Is out the door in a flash,  once again nothing but a ghost. Nothing left behind but the bruises blossoming across Sam’s skin. 

He stands trembling against the wall for a long time, rolling the entire thing over and over in his mind until it’s sharpened into a point. Thinks once, I wanted to kiss him, and then, I wanted to send him to his fucking knees. Doesn’t know what to do with that. Only knows that it was a bad idea he would have followed through on given one more minute with Bucky pressed against him. 

He goes to bed without packing, and when he wakes it’s to a text from Natasha saying to stay right where he is, because — and get this — Bucky has been spotted in Glasgow. What a fucking surprise.

[joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh]

Another Sonic twitter thread thing I saw but it's random questions this time

There's nothing I love more than talking about Sonic the Hedgehog after all.

I got into Sonic because when I was too young to even remember anything in any detail my family had a Mega Drive with Sonic 1-3, and I mean I played them a lot. I don't think I could tell you my thoughts on it then though because I was like pre-toddler age lol. Probably thought it was the coolest shit ever. As opposed to today where I still think that but like I'm way more autistic about it.

Quotes and themes are different things and I also don't know if by theme they mean music or like thematic shit so uhhh. Uncertainty of intention means I'll relegate myself to just quote, which is hard - in a series with so many iconic lines how do you pick just one? But I do think "what you see is what you get - just a guy that loves adventure!" as well as "do I need a reason to want to help out a friend?" are both very good lines that portray Sonic himself very very nicely. I'll go with those. Not strictly a final answer and I could probably make a whole post on just this question, but we'll leave it on the two mentioned.

Out-of-game I think Yuji Uekawa's adventure era artwork is my favourite, I think for in-game art styles I'm between Unleashed, Colours, and Mania.

I'll keep it simple just make him and Mario have a fucking platformer crossover or even like an RPG or something, anything that's not the Olympics.

You know my answer was very easily Live and Learn until Sonic Frontiers came out lol. Now it's Find Your Flame quite handily. Shit fucks harder than god.

A couple different pieces of Sonic media have entertained the idea of Silver attaining some sort of like heightened state of power, like ESP Silver from Runners and I think he's in Speed Simulator too - I'm curious about how far along he goes with that. A much younger Josh who cared marginally more about power scaling was interested in the idea of Silver becoming the strongest character in the series even. I think there was an animation in the Lythero Silver Campaign video (I've been meaning to watch this but that's neither here nor there) showing base Silver fighting Super Sonic. I'm kind of interested in that. How far does base Silver go if he's that aforementioned ESP Silver or whatever. Can he thoroughly whoop the likes of Knuckles or Blaze eventually? Perhaps even Shadow or Sonic? We're going with roughly that.

Of the 4 listed here I'd certainly say the OVA, it's just by far my favourite. SatAM has some props for its fandom significance but I find it boring, X has some props for being the most game-faithful but it's kind of crap, OVA is just dope. Even extending it to what's come out since I'd still stick with the OVA.

I used to be able to reliably name a decent amount of Sonic fanartists but unfortunately my mind has consistently blanked on that front recently. Official as a qualification lets me get away with saying Yuji Uekawa though so we'll stick to that. Jack Lawrence's IDW art is also really nice, particularly in Scrapnik Island.

I don't like blue shoes Tails at all lol. Like I think the argument amongst people that do like it is it makes him and Sonic compliment each other better but Sonic lacks orange on his colour palette so I just don't agree at all. Giving them the shared red is a lot more effective.

For least favourite I could point to various points in Archie's history as well as Prime pretty confidently, and stretching it the likes of Chronicles and Underground and stuff but I'd need to play more of them. Favourite I've got the very simple storybook games and Unleashed answer, we've seen it all before, although Frontiers has a pretty great Sonic too.

I don't want to skip any out of principal but also just so particularly don't care for Sonic ships that I've kinda got nothing here. I guess gun to my head I like Sonic and Knuckles' dynamic a lot but I don't need that to go romantic or anything so like, you know?

I just want multiple playable characters from the get-go and all of them to be as fleshed out as Sonic is, really.

There's definitely a lot of little things I can say but definitely the main one for me is less busywork tasks around the island. Pressing switches or parrying items or running in a hamster wheel, a lot of that stuff doesn't really play to the strengths of the gameplay, and I'd like them to work to correct and improve upon that I suppose.

Like the entire Mania and SA2 and 06 and Unleashed soundtracks. We'll go Crisis City specifically.

I have a lot of opinions on the Sonic series and its representation in Smash and that could also be a post of its own honestly, but just taking the question by itself I want Eggman a ton.

"Limited to teams" is such a leading-question type approach to this, L. Anyway yeah no variety is good. I understand the desire to stick to the teams we know, and certainly I think it's important to get those core things down before making a game where Sonic, Charmy and Omega are a team - but yk the cast is so expansive that letting them bounce off of the more unique faces is fun.

They cooked.

"Mainline" is quite the distinction here - I'd love to see more spinoffs handed to other studios even just to have spinoffs coming out, but I think for mainline I like seeing how Sonic Team evolves and where they're taking the series. I can imagine other studios making good Sonic games certainly, but that mainline clarification leaves me wanting to say nah honestly.

I have a somewhat decent amount but I mean that doesn't lend itself well to this type of post. I still like my Sonic has some old shack on Christmas Island where he keeps random sentimental junk from his adventures though.

Unleashed so easily it's not even funny.

Comics and just external media in general being included actually widens the net a lot because Archie and IDW both have a ton of good stories (haven't sonic the comic'd yet sorry lol) and I adore the OVA too but once again I'd point to your storybook games, Unleashed in particular, as well as Adventure 2. The Sonic 2 into 3&K overarching narrative is also very effective despite how simple it is.

Not an artist rip. Idk though the muzzle or something feels good to draw and harder to fuck up than the quills or something.

Honestly I could think about this one for a while too, but I think the one that always comes to mind - and this isn't even so much a cherished memory as just a sort of unforgettable one that I always go back to and think is kind of cool - one day when I was a kid, my brother and I walked to our school that was less than 2 minutes away, at the door were told the school was closed that day because a thunderstorm the previous night had done some fuckery or whatever, and then we went home and had the day off. And the particular thing we did is play Sonic Riders: Zero Gravity for most of the day. We'd owned it for a while at that point but the Riders games are pretty complicated for children even when they're as streamlined as ZG was, so we never really knew how to play it and frequently came dead last against the CPUs. It was this day off school where we really grinded the fuck out of it and just, got good at the game. Won a ton of rings and bought new extreme gear with them and shit, it was just a really memorable day for whatever reason. It's maybe not the most special, but it's what comes to mind when I think of cool Sonic memories I have.

Anyway that's all lol.

[whenwillderekhalebehappy]

so i just started playing fallout 4 ,,, here are my preliminary opinions

- lame storyline, i don't want to be married heterosexual. idc abt this fuckass baby either.

- fr tho, it feels like the devs just chose the most generic backstory they could think of so they could get that part out of the way. it's not interesting or good. moreover, if that actually happened to a person, they'd be traumatized and terrified, not running around looking for guns and stimpaks. like, it feels like my character doesn't even give that much of a shit that this happened. like ooh the world ended, my wife was murdered, my infant child was kidnapped, it is 200 years in the future, but yeah no i don't have any questions, ill just roll with it. LAZY WRITING!

- also: how does the survivor know that his baby is still alive. the story has him frozen, unfrozen to witness murder and kidnapping, frozen again and then unfrozen to start the game. how am i supposed to know when that kidnapping happened? like yeah it could've been recent but it could also have been 100 years ago.

- upon exiting the vault you immediately start like 11 quests. why?? for what reason?? i just got here??

- do not love that feral ghouls will just lay on the ground waiting for you to get close enough so they can attack you. 1. its annoying, you get ambushed every time. 2. why would they be doing that, are they sleeping? waiting? doesnt make sense for them to be doing either of those things. they're feral, they wander around attacking whatever comes near them, they don't lie down and wait for prey, thats just ,,, not how they work?

- i especially dont like that the ghouls also dont show up as hostile on the little navigation bar until they get up. the whole point of that is so i know if there's hostiles in the area. if all the hostiles just sneak up on you, there's no reason to look at it.

- the fact that you can just max out your SPECIAL stats kinda defeats the purpose of those stats. the point is that it allows you to pick strengths and weaknesses for your character, instead of it being skills you can learn. it adds difficulty and personalization.

- i genuinely don't like the "improved" graphics. maybe its because my pc is shitty and i have to run low quality, but i cant see shit. especially all the harsh shadows make it really hard to gauge depth and to see things on the ground (like feral ghouls waiting to attack you).

- why is VATS under Q. thats dumb

- follow up: why are we now using the enter key and arrow keys in addition to wasd. let me keep my hand on the mouse instead of constantly having to switch (update: after 10 hours in-game i found out you can also press E, still stupid)

- why cant i just go up to people and ask them shit. why do i have to wait until they want to talk to me.

- i do like the whole settlement building thing. ive been having more fun with that than anything else tbh

- it is nice that you can make radaway and you dont have to rely on scavenging or bartering for it

- they are harsh on the raiders. like i get that they're enemies but labelling them 'raider scum' is a bit much. like thats still a person.

- in the intro thing they say war never changes at least 3 times. i get it. dont overdo it.

- also in the intro, they just say the US ended ww2 by dropping the bombs on hiroshima and nagasaki which is a VERY BOLD statement about history.

- i've barely encountered anyone who's nice. ive met preston and his friends but beyond that its basically been nothing but raiders. where are the friendly npc's? it makes the whole world feel hostile and empty

- the variety of weapons and mods is ,, actually a little too much. i don't know the difference between a pistol and a revolver, let alone what a receiver is. the game kind of expects you to just , understand what all these things mean and how to best modify your weapons. I don't. i barely know what i'm supposed to be looking at. "um yeah i definitely prefer the hardened enhanced glowsighted tempered auto pipe revolver pistol over the hardboiled standardized incendiary double barreled shotgun rifle" <- statement dreamed up by the utterly deranged

- recently encountered super mutants, why do they yell at you that they are super mutants. i know that. i mean, the character technically doesn't since no one's bothered to explain all the new creatures to him, but still.

anywho, ive only been playing for a week or so, so there might be more redeeming qualities later on. but so far im not very impressed

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello,

I apologize in advance if you've already answered something like this but my cursory look didn't show anything. I am looking for a game system that has an emphasis on the feeling of a wild west movie while still retaining general fantasy elements from DND. The wild spaces are slowly becoming tamed, increasing technological/magical advancement are pushing disparate communities together, and of course cocky assholes with guns (or a magical equivalent).

Thanks in advance

Theme: Wild West Fantasy

Hello friend, you might want to check out my Fantasy Westerns rec post, to see if anything there fits what you’re looking for. I especially recommend checking out the rec for We Deal In Lead and Clink. For the rest of this post, I try to span a very broad range, so I don't expect everything to stick - but perhaps one or two do!

Inevitable, by Soul Muppet Publishing.

Knights and wizards have defended the Kingdom of Myth for centuries. These lands have known peace and prosperity, but soon the kingdom shall be destroyed. The Prophets have declared that your city shall burn and Myth will fall. All those who follow your King shall die. It is INEVITABLE.

But you shall defy fate. Myth will not end while you bear arms. You will fail, but as long as there are still stories, they will sing of you!

Inevitable is a Arthurian Western roleplaying game for 2-6 players and a GM, where your party of disastrously sad cowboy knights fail to stop the apocalypse. This 284 page book contains all the rules, character creation and the setting for your campaign, thoroughly and evocatively detailing The Barren, the lands surrounding the Kingdom of Myth.

This game might be way you’re looking for: it describes itself as a fantasy kingdom, with western aesthetics. There are wizards, prophets, and rune-carved revolvers. Your reputation in the kingdom is important; it determines how well you can face challenges, and roll pools of d6 on a table of staggered success. If you want a taste before you buy, there’s a Quickstart with some evocative set pieces, a quick overview of the rules, and a quick adventure to run through with a list of pre-generated characters.

Far West, by Adamant Entertainment.

Imagine a fantasy setting that shatters the tropes of Medieval Europe. Imagine a collision of Spaghetti Westerns and Chinese Wuxia by way of Steampunk. Imagine a world where gunslingers and kung fu masters face off against Steam Barons and the August Throne. Imagine fantastic machines powered by the furies comprising the fabric of the universe. Imagine an endless frontier where wandering heroes fight for righteous causes while secret societies engage in shadow wars. Imagine…

This game is a combination of Wild Western tropes and Wuxia fantasy. Your characters are wandering heroes, defending the small and helpless against the strong and powerful. I look at this game and I think of movies like The Magnificent Seven. Mechanically, it’s its own system, but it draws heavily from Fate, using positive and negative aspects to boost rolls and spark complications.This game relies on some tropes that require entire table buy-in: I’m not sure how many assumptions the game makes about the cultures it takes inspiration from.

Holler: An Appalachian Apocalypse (Savage Worlds), by Pinnacle Entertainment.

In Holler, the mysterious “Big Boys” own the mines, mills, and logging operations. They rule over every aspect of their workers’ lives—subjecting them to extraordinary dangers on the job and crushing oppression outside of it. The Big Boys have transformed the land of the Holler—rivers bubble with strange chemicals, strip-mined mountains crumble into valleys, and the air is choked with a toxic fog known as the Blight. The flora and fauna of the Holler grow more monstrous by the day. Demons of every description lurk in the forests. Mutant cryptids haunt villages with their strange cries and appetites. Vengeful haints leer from abandoned shacks and lonely cliffs. No one is coming to save the people of Holler.

The goal of the resistance is to build a coalition, to bring together diverse factions—humble workers, roustabouts, mountain men, dirt track racers, cultists, and even strange creatures of myth and legend to raze the works of the Big Boys and drive them from the Holler forever. Holler draws deeply on Appalachian history, mythic folklore, and culture to create a dark fantasy world of apocalypse and vengeance.

This sounds a little more grim and gritty, with cryptids, toxic fog and demons lurking in the forest. It uses the Savage Worlds system, so you’ll have to pick up the codebook to play with it, but the setting is very very fleshed out. This is a little less Wild West and a little more Appalachia, and the setting is a bit more on the horror side than most of the other games on this list, but there’s certainly a lot of wildness out there for you to fight!

TROUPE, by TheOriginalCockatrice.

A game about travel, discovery, and outsiderness, a combination of the best of Old-School and Story Games. Complete with 6 Jobs, including the Ghelf, the Hedge, and the Ogra, and includes a system for holistically coming up with a character from scratch.

The designer describes this game as an exploration of the road; the odd and unknown of the wild, what it means to belong, and what it means to be on the outside. You’re not heroes - you’re entertainers, jokers, healers and bards. There isn’t exactly magic, but there is myth and legend. This is a great game for folks who want plenty of challenges that exist outside of combat. Each character playbook comes with a balance of mechanical elements and descriptive options, and you’ll be rolling 2d6 plus your stat in order to determine success.

I’m not sure how much of a Western this is, but the designer actually hacked this game for BXLLET, a game about gunslingers in the apocalypse, in the zine Bxllet Clip, so it might be worth checking out!

Shotguns & Sorcery, by Full Moon Enterprises.

Welcome to Dragon City, a grim, gritty metropolis ruled over by the Dragon Emperor, with legions of zombies scratching at the city walls by night.

Whether in the streets of Goblintown or the prestigious halls of the Academy of Arcane Apprenticeship, people try to scrape by, make a living, and survive from one day to the next. You, however, are looking for something more than simple survival. And in this city, if you don’t make your own adventure, another adventure is sure to find you.

Shotguns & Sorcery is a fantasy noir game complete with Dragon City Intrigues, roving hoards of undead, and unexplored mountains rife with magical creatures. You’ll see magical staffs alongside light pistols, bows alongside submachine guns, and greatswords alongside canteens, playing cards and a camp stove. The game uses the Cypher System, with an additional character option alongside the three-part character sentence: your race. This includes the signature hafling, elf, dwarf etc.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Knights of the Road, by bordercholly.

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 11

An: Change of pace, enjoy some fluff!

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 1700

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: angst, military setting, explicit language, graphic depictions of violence, use of guns.

Ghost’s deep breaths and the crackling fire are the only audible sounds in the entire cabin. Over the last while, I became accustomed to all the different sounds of the task members at night. Snoring mostly, but there was always at least some noise. At home, I lived in a place across from a bar and was used to the sounds of sirens and cars and drunk people wandering the streets at night as they shouted at each other. Here it’s the complete opposite. There’s nothing to drown out my thoughts and I don’t know how to feel about it.

Ghost was in contact with Price who said they survived the raid, but lost several men. He wouldn’t tell me how many. Soap’s team and one other returning from a mission caught the tail end of the Ultranationalists as they were retreating with their recaptured members. 141 cut off the last Ultranationalists, but almost every prisoner escaped. Overall it was a loss, but they’re lucky nearly all of them survived. My mind drifts off to the man who was shot in the hanger. I wonder if he made it.

Part of me wanted to sleep on the floor instead of sharing a bed, but the floor’s cold and I already struggle with that enough as is. Ghost didn’t bring up the topic of who sleeps where, so neither did I. After our fight, he’s barely spoken.

Unfolded, the futon is the size of a double bed. It’s hard despite an old mattress topper being placed under the sheets and far from big enough for Ghost. He sleeps on his side and has to bend his knees just to stop his legs from hanging off the end. Several pillows and musty blankets were stashed away in one of the cabinets and currently wrap around me. Ghost said he didn’t want any, so I took his because you can never have too many blankets.

A soft orange glow escapes a small window in the wood stove. It’s just bright enough to see the outlines of everything in the cabin. I’ve always liked warm light like this. Maybe it’s an innate thing passed down from my ancestors all those years ago who slept beside fires every night. Maybe its because the light confirms that the most dangerous thing in the room lies next to me in bed and not creeping in the shadows.

I’ve had to pee for at least an hour but don’t want to go outside to the outhouse. There’s no indoor plumbing, but there is a double-seater with a moon carved into the door. I glance at the sleeping man beside me. The feeling’s only going to get worse. I’ll be quiet. He won’t notice.

I slip my legs out of the blankets and onto the hardwood floor. My back hurts from the mattress already. Just as I’m about to stand up, something latches on to my wrist with an unnatural strength.

“Where’re you going?” Ghost’s voice is deeper than normal. He props himself up with his other arm. And I thought I was a light sleeper. But maybe he was awake this whole time.

“Washroom,” I whisper trying to stay quiet even though there’s no one to wake up.

“You have to tell me,” he grumbles. I roll my eyes at his remark. I don’t know if he thinks I’m stupid enough to run away or that maybe I have other intentions.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he catches the irritation in my tone.

“You don’t know what’s out there,”

“I doubt anyone’s followed us here,” I say, but I don’t really know. Neither does he.

“Don’t be a fool,” his hand remains on my arm. “Besides there’s wildlife out there. Wolves. Coyotes.”

“How about you watch from the window,” I say. “I don’t think you need to hear me use the toilet,” I tack on at the end to discourage him.

“Fine,” He mumbles. I bite my lip to hide my smile. It worked. “Take my jacket,” he releases his grasp to reach the jacket hanging on the arm of the futon. When I shrug it over my shoulders, it swallows me whole. The inside is lined with a soft, welcoming fleece. A scent of gunpowder and something decidedly more earthy engulfs me as I pull the zipper up to my nose.

“Thanks,”

I never imagined myself peeing outside before, but here we are. The toilet seat is so cold against my legs the need almost completely disappears. Not to mention how dark it is in here with no electricity. I want to leave the door open to get some moonlight in here, but then I risk Ghost seeing in. I can suck it up for two minutes.

Outside, the night sky is otherworldly. There’s no light pollution or clouds blocking the stars and I can’t stop staring. There’s just a thin layer of compact snow on the ground, so I take the opportunity to lie down and look up at the sky. It’s cold, but nothing worse than the winters at home. There’s no harsh wind blowing against my skin, so it’s finally tolerable.

“What’re you doing?” heavy footsteps crunch against the snow. I smile to myself because this is the one place he can’t be quiet.

“Stargazing,” I whisper, “Shh, you’ll wake the wolves,” From the corner of my eye, I see Ghost look up at the stars and pause for a moment. I wonder if he cares about mundane things like this? Is he capable of seeing beauty after all the horrors he’s witnessed? In another breath, he disappears back into the cabin. Guess not.

After our fight, it felt like a storm passed over us. The tension eased just a bit as the wind died down. The waters returned to normal and then almost into glass. There’s no fighting against whitecaps as we try to make it to land. I wouldn’t go as far as saying it’s smooth sailing. But things aren’t nearly as rocky as they were before. For now, we have an understanding.    

The crunching sound of footsteps approaches again and then Ghost does something out of character. He hands me his helmet with the night vision googles attached. I hesitate before grabbing it, what’s the catch? I look into his eyes for an answer, there’s a glint,  but they hold no malice. The helmet is heavy in my hands. I can’t believe he wears this all day. His neck must constantly ache.

“Flip the lenses down and look at the stars with them,” he says. I sit up to put the helmet on. It’s an unnatural feeling: like there’s a brick of cement sitting on my head. Ghost crouches down and reaches for the strap to tighten it. “Stay still,” his hands brush against the sensitive skin on the underside of my chin as he fixes the strap so the helmet won’t slide off my head. He switched out the bloody skull mask for a plain, black balaclava before bed. It humanizes him, seeing him wear something else. He’s less hidden with this one. Although his face is still covered with black paint, it’s easier to read his expressions. The balaclava highlights the outline of his strong cheek bones and jaw. His eyes almost look kind under the moonlight.

My heart skips a beat when Ghost flips down the night vision lens. It’s like looking at a whole new world. I look around at the trees first and notice how far I can see. Everything looks like it has a green filter.

“Look up,” his voice is eager. So, I do. And what I see is almost indescribable. I feel like I can see every star in the universe. It’s breathtaking. Hypnotizing. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s…” I can’t find the words I’m looking for and for a moment I don’t know if they exist. The men who created our language weren’t alive to witness a sight such as this. And so, the dictionaries remain empty. “Incredible,” will have to do.

“The goggles are the best part about night missions,” he says as he lays down beside me on the cold ground. Ghost crosses his arms across his chest to keep his hands warm. His shoulder brushes against my arm and I notice he isn’t watching the stars.

In the silence of the woods, I feel the safest I’ve felt in weeks. The world feels like it’s asleep. We’re the only people around for miles. There are no other task members are walking around with oversized guns, or angry prisoners, or the looming threat of an Ultranationalist raid. There’s just Ghost. And right now, he doesn’t feel like much of a threat.

“Can you see the stars at home?” I ask.

“No.”

“Me either.”

I let the silence hang in the air for a while longer. The frosty night air caresses my face. Our breath is visible in tiny puffs of clouds.

“Do you want them back?” I turn my head to look at him. His black balaclava takes on a whitish glow under the lens.

“Keep ‘em for now,” his voice is quiet but awake. Any drowsiness from before has disappeared. I have a feeling most of his nights are spent awake.

I don’t know how long we’re out there, maybe an hour or so. Ghost points out the different constellations in the sky. I thought it might be a personal interest, but then he says they’re used for navigation when they don’t have access to GPS or maps. If you know important reference points or certain constellations, you’ll never be lost. He speaks quietly to preserve the stillness around us and guides my vision with his hands as he points out each constellation. The man beside me is a completely different one than a few hours ago. This one, I like. I could listen to his soothing voice talk about the stars all night. In the back of my mind, I think about how often our arms brush each time he points out a new star, how I shifted closer to feel his shoulder press harder against mine.      

It’s only when the cold starts to seep into my bones that I suggest we head back in. This whole time Ghost was out here in just his Henley and jeans. Yet he didn’t complain once. I wonder if he ever complains. Or if he just pushes every emotion to the back of his mind until it’s ready to burst.

“They’re beautiful,” I say once again as I hand Ghost back his helmet.

He searches my eyes for quite some time before agreeing.

“They are.”

PT 12:

[jcmarchi]

Takashi Iizuka Explains Why Shadow Has New Powers In Sonic X Shadow Generations

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/takashi-iizuka-explains-why-shadow-has-new-powers-in-sonic-x-shadow-generations/

Takashi Iizuka Explains Why Shadow Has New Powers In Sonic X Shadow Generations

The release of Sonic Generations in 2011 gave players a series-wide greatest hits remake package to celebrate 20 years of Sonic the Hedgehog. Though other characters appeared in Sonic Generations, Sonic – in both his Classic and Modern forms – was the sole playable character. Now, 13 years later, the well-liked celebratory release returns as the latest Sonic remaster, but it’s not simply the same package with performance enhancements. Sure, those are there, but perhaps the biggest selling point is the inclusion of Shadow the Hedgehog as a playable character. 

But Shadow is much more than a reskin of Sonic. Yes, the base of Shadow in his Sonic Adventure 2 debut was that he could match Sonic’s abilities, but we’ve seen him appear in a variety of gameplay styles, with varying powers at his disposal. During my hands-on session, I was able to experience his Chaos Control ability, which was the power that introduced players to Shadow back in his debut scene. That power lets Shadow slow down projectiles like rockets so he can easily dodge them or use them as platforms.

The notion of giving Shadow a distinct skillset in his standalone campaign in Sonic X Shadow Generations originated with the dark hedgehog’s first starring role in a game. “The original Shadow the Hedgehog game was thought of as a spin-off from a Sonic game,” Sonic Team creative officer Takashi Iizuka says. “In order to really spin it up to be something fun and interesting and new, we had to think of, ‘What is something we haven’t done or don’t do in Sonic games? Let’s put that in and have it be part of the Shadow gameplay.’ That’s where the shooting action came in for Shadow the Hedgehog. It was to really make sure that it doesn’t just feel like we’re changing the character, but it’s still the same game; we want different gameplay as well.”

Shadow the Hedgehog has garnered notoriety due to its structure, poor critical reception, and oddly mature twist, in which Shadow shoots enemies with a gun while uttering mild curse words. However, it laid out the blueprint for what Sonic Team wanted to do with Sonic X Shadow Generations. “For the Generations content, because Shadow Generations was coming inside of the whole Generations format, we wanted to keep the same game format for Sonic Generations that we have for Shadow Generations,” Iizuka says. “So, the platform action game style was something you could put in and have it be this unified package, but we didn’t just want to have it be like, ‘Oh, okay, so you have levels just like Sonic.” We needed something extra. And that something extra – all the new actions Shadow can do that Sonic can’t – that’s where we’re differentiating the gameplay inside of Shadow Generations. So, it still feels like a Generations game, and this is just the Shadow story, but you still get the new actions and abilities and the new gameplay because of Shadow.”

At the end of the Summer Game Fest trailer, which announced the release date of Sonic X Shadow Generations, fans we shocked to see Shadow suddenly sprout wings, hinting at a potential new ability Shadow may have in this new game to continue differentiating Shadow Generations from the preexisiting Sonic gameplay. “Shadow has Chaos Control, but outside of that, it may feel like too much of the same and we wanted to make something new and interesting with the Shadow content,” Iizuka says. “We said, ‘We have the same platform action format. We have similar running and jumping. We have Chaos Control. But what else can we put in here to really make the gameplay different and unique?’ That’s where the idea came up for the Doom Powers: We need to give Shadow these extra abilities and extra powers to allow new gameplay formats to be born.”

We’re sure to learn more about Shadow’s unique abilities and Doom Powers in the lead-up to the game’s launch. Sonic X Shadow Generations arrives on PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X/S, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Switch, and PC on October 25. For our recent hands-on impressions of the game, head here.

[spettelt]

Choose Your Character

(A small tribute to the many role-playing classes like in dungeons and dragons and a certain horror game that youtube has allowed me to watch and I dig the art style. The game 'Fear and Hunger' has a beautiful art style which I have tried to replicate. Along with my love of Warhammer 40k, I have tried to draw up four classes to look like the old rogue trader art of warhammer 40k. If any warhammer fan likes this and wants to use at as potential role play or D&D stuff, then you are free to use them)

1. SPACE MARINE (BARBARIAN) Gender: Male Classification: Adeptus Astartes  Specialize Equipment: Efficient with both ranged and Melee weapons; Bolter, heavy Bolter, Bolt Gun and Chainsword and Power Armor (High defence) Know No Fear: Being a genetically enhanced warrior, you have seen many horros and are more reisitant to things that would rot the mind.

You are one of the Emperor's angels of death, you fight for honour and glory. You are of the Storm-Watchers Chapter, created in secret by the Inquisition in the Caligari Secter as warriors that fight in the shadows. No one in the imperium, not even other Space Marine Chapters knows of your existence and you wish to keep it that way. Though you can fight all on your own, you do crave some comrade-ship. Even if its from the likes of mortal servants of the Imperium. You have been assigned a mission by the Inquisition of the Caligari Sector, to land on the world of Argamar and route out whatever corruption or xenos taint that may be within the Hive city of Colsectus....or the planet itself.

With a small retenue of the Astra Militarum, you land in the space port of one hive city and make your way down, only that madness seems to have claimed most of the population, and already your team has been wiped out. You easily fight your way past the heretics and traitors only to find yourself alone. Will you continue on alone or will you encounter others who will assist in your mission?

2. ASTROPATH (SPELLCASTER) Gender: Male/Female Classification: Adeptus Astra Telepathica Specialized Equipment: Cannot wear any armour, but can wield items and gear to enhance your psychic abilities (Focusing staff, Lecto Divinitatus Book and Purity Seals) Spells: Telepathy, Lightning, Telekenisis Psyker: Though blind, your third eye allows you to see the disturbances and the taint of the warp. You can detect any anomilies before they strike.

You are a Astropath, a specially-trained psychic servant of the Imperium that guides the ships through the sea of souls (the warp). From your third eye, you can see the light of the astronomicum, the phsycic manifestation of the Empeor that lights the way through the darkness of space. It is your responsibility to carry out communication with your supernatural gifts. Your mind is mightier than the sword but it comes at a cost. For your powers can draw the attention of the corrupting influence of Chaos. If not trained properly, you are a vessel for daemons to pour out from the warp into our reality.

You are a delicate soul, and your mind is bombarded with visions of madness that you must control or you will be found wanting. Though gentle as your personality is, you cannot help but jump at every shadow and at every strange noise.

Misfortune struck you, as you awake to find out that you are the sole survivor from a terrible attack on your vessel. All the crew are dead except for you. With no memory of what happened, the Inquisition suspects you of corruption and treason. To atone for this, you are sent to the World of Argamar, where the Hive city of Colsectus has gone dark. You are to find the Astropathic Choir and re-establish communication with the Inquisition.

3. UNDERHIVE GANSTER (ROGUE) Gender: Female Classification: Gang Leader of the lower levels of Hive City Colsectus (Formerly) Specialize Equipment: All forms of pistols and one handed weapons. Can replace power claw with other cybernetic weaponry. Swift Striker: Has the highest amount of Agility and can strike twice at the start of each combat phase

Originaly born on the world of Argamar to a rich and wealthy noble family house, you grew bored of your life and want to live life dangerously. So you broke ties with your family, left it all behind to join one of the numerous underhive gangs of the city. Through your crafty talents and agility, you worked your way up the ranks and became the leader of one of the gangs, gainign a fierce reputation, at the cost of your eye and arm. Fortune and excitment, you had it all until one day.

The Hive City gangs, criminals and civil population started to act strange and all of a sudden, turned violent. The gangs turned on one another, including your own. You have no idea what is going on, and was forced to slay and butcher your way to safety and sanity back on the higher levels of the hive. You are all that is left of your gang, with nothing else left to loose, you stumble upon those that wish to cleance the city of taint and you migth as well join them. But not before you secure the wealth and title of your noble house family name, and take back of what you had lost.

This sudden outburst of madness and chaos is new to you. And though you have nerves of steel, you canot help but hear and see things in the walls...

4. TECH PRIEST (SUPPORT) Gender: Unknown Classiffication: Adeptus Mechanicus Specialize Equipment: Servo arm, mechanical claw, laspistol arm, built in scanner, optics and fibre nerves. Praise the Omnisiah: You are part machine and can easily access locked doors and several mechanical functions such as cogitators. You can also repair gear as well as weapons. Cybernetics: You have a higher defence than those organic flesh creatures. You can even replace lost limps.

Tech-Priests of the Cult Mechanicus are the forfront of all technology within the Imperium of Man. You are one of teh Adepts of the cult of Mars. You worship the machine god and have gone through all the rights and blessings of swwitching most of your fragile organic body, for cold machinery. Any and all forms of technology peaks your interest to such a degree, that even new tech, which can be considered heretical, peaks your interest. 

You have heard that there may be ancient machinery from the Dark Age of Technology, hidden away or buried in the Hive City of Colsectus on the planet of Argamar. You make your way to the city, only to find that the civilain population have gone mad. The Guard does not cooperate, and the servitors are not responding to your signals. Despite the strange occurings, you will make your way and join a group of what appear to be the only group that is sane and capable of fighting their way for you. 

You goal is selfish as it shoud be. You care not for the emotional trauma of your human collegues, nor do you care of the Astartes objective. But you can assit in repairing their equipment, as you will rely on the party to breach the lower depths of the hive city, and discover what untold secrets that may be lurking far down in the darkness. 

[yawngoddessofdreams]

Shadow Tower Abyss (2003)

While King's Field 4 is the end of its lineage as the series which really guided early Fromsoft's hand into dark fantasy, Shadow Tower Abyss is perhaps the true end of that particular blood ancestry. A lot of folks have looked back at King's Field and Shadow Tower to better understand the DNA that created the Souls series. For some it was out of a desire to create a more holistic view of how this series was formed. For others it was merely out of curiosity. For me I was of the former camp. Video essays say a lot, but perhaps this was something I should experience with my own hands. Why Shadow Tower Abyss? Its setting and gameplay seemed just intriguing and playable enough to hold my attention. I thought surely I'd get frustrated by the labyrinth and my weak ability to mentally map such spaces so I expected to get my impressions of the first hour or two then hop off it. 8 hours later I beat it.

I loved this game. Its the sort of game that makes me reconsider what a "good game" is. When you turn it around in the sunlight it has the feeling of a game that was meant to be far more ambitious yet had to be chopped up and slapped together as a minimum viable product. There's a certain point where glowing armor of archangels and weapons crackling with power are being dumped on you by the truckload, which has the hilarious side effect of possibly crushing you to death under their encumbrance due to the strange decision to not allow you to drop or destroy items from your inventory without a shop. Your power scaling reaches a zenith of comical supremacy where you are blasting endgame bosses away with a few shots of a shotgun before they opine about the meaning of their lives with their last breaths.

Whether it's the case that this game was always meant to be this way or not, it ends up telling a compelling tale with its ludo-narrative.

(Story spoilers beyond)

You start at the base of the tower fighting tribal creatures (who I admit are pretty racist) who use the bodies of a captured modern special forces unit as incubators for their young. You're presumably a soldier who was a part of them or is maybe unrelated to their mission. The only dying soldier you get to talk to asks you to "kill them all" before handing you a knife.

You delve further until you find the true base of the tower: An alien structure rising from the titular abyss. There are creatures who tend this area who talk about being "Trapped here as you are" yet also say "It is enough to exist. You may not understand since we are so different."

I think this creates an interesting contrast against you who is ascending the tower rolling up power like a katamari till you find the heart of the tower who regrets the fact that you two must be at odds in such a way. It says you and it both just want to live, and looking back you realize the creatures by large only really feed on humans and create problems for you because that is simply what they must do to live and thrive.

Your quest originally seemed to be finding a spear who's power was so great that it cowed neighboring nations to submit to it. The true nature of the spear is apparent though as you find its resting place: A desert of red rusted sand full of disfigured heroes from long ago. They warn you to not suffer like they had. They try to stop you for your own good. You find the spear though and it crumbles in your hands. The spear does not exist anymore, and maybe that is because it has played out its role. Many come to the tower because the tower knows what they want: Power. The spear is the sickly sweet smell of nutrients at the bottom of a pitcher plant.

Perhaps though, the tower swallowed up something it shouldn't have. It swallowed the frightening power of the modern world. While you can use legendary swords left by their owners who died in the tower, you also can use the frightening modern power of guns that have been freshly brought into the tower. They truly tip the balance of power in your favor and it's a scary notion that against the eldritch, perhaps extraterrestrial power of the tower, we have formed weapons that can challenge it at last and slay it like yet another beast.

Perhaps the power of the spear is an analogue for weapons of mass destruction. They cow fellow nations into submission yet put the world on a knife's edge, capable of plunging it back into darkness with smug carelessness. Those who have suffered by its hands plead with the future generations to leave these tools yet we are quick to see this form of power as necessary to achieve life and peace.

Anyways, that's my reading of it!

I would definitely recommend this game to at least try. It's strange in a way that bewitches you and feels very before its time in some regards such as location-based damage and dismemberment on enemies as well as directional swings that really utilize this mechanic. Truly it was dead space before dead space. In fact I would say this game's balance and gameplay put it closer to a survival horror than a true souls game.

Another comparison I'd make is it's a better Scorn since it also has an HR Giger-esque aesthetic yet includes far more gameplay. I'd describe Scorn as a walkable artpiece that is interspersed with survival horror segments where health and ammo is limited. Shadow Tower Abyss is far more consistent at being an actual game and while I admire the walkable gallery sense to scorn, I did not admire the threat of being sent back to uncertain checkpoints by failing the survival horror segments that ultimately had worse combat than Shadow Tower Abyss due to wonky hitboxes.