#she was made for these medium armor tops
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Celebratory "Ange is now max level" screens + some baby fashion ✨️
#gw2#nero's artsy corner#angelina#man do i love her!!!#she was made for these medium armor tops#i kinda wanna buy them on main and send it to my alt acc#just so i can play dressup with ange#she deserves some good fashion damn it#also isn't she just 🥺🥺🥺#gw2 oc#werewolf oc
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Closed rp with the-bloodmire-family
So far a month and a half had passed, and Sinmas was around the corner. However, so was Extermination Day. By now he had finished a set of combat effective prosthetics for Lorraine. They allowing her to have far more physicality. Not only was she now significantly stronger then the average Exorcist, able to easily lift and throw cars like nothing, her legs allowed her to run much faster and jump much higher and farther as well. On top of this he made her armor out of angelic steel to give her full protection, and a device that allowed her to use whatever angelic weapon she wished.
As for William, he had him working on something rather interesting. A ten meter tall, thirty five ton mech. One specifically designed to be used in an urban environment for "urban pacification". Small and medium pulse lasers were on both arms of the mech, while the left torso had two SRM 6's and the left held a single Plasma Cannon. The mech was also equipped with jump jets, allowing it to either hover or jump great distances. This mech was to patrol around the area of the Warehouse during Extermination Day, taking out any Exorcists that were unfortunate to get caught in it's sight.
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Hello is it possible to get a one shot of Cody Rhodes? The prompt is "Cody comforts the reader when she's on her period"
I have awful cramps and would love something sweet to take my mind off of it. Thank you! 🌸
IS THIS REAL CHAT?? MY FIRST EVER CODY RHODES REQUEST?? RAAAHHH LETS FUCKING GOOO
Chocolate & Blankets
Cody Rhodes x Fem!Feader
Desc: Y/N is on the worst thing a woman could ever possibly experience every month & Cody is right there to comfort her (and be a little annoying.)
Contents: FLUFF, Period pains, Cussing, Soft!Cody, Cody being a perv, just something sweet :)
{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}
Cody hadn’t seen you this bad since like, a few months ago, He stayed downstairs in the kitchen staring at the TV watching some football game and scoffing when the team he rooted for was loosing, You were upstairs sulking in bed as your period had started this morning & it was a whole thing, You threatened to claw off Cody’s face when he squeezed the spot you were cramping in by accident and that’s how he knew. Today was the day to be concerned and loving towards you more than he usually is which you never knew how this tops how he treats you most of the time.
Not only that but this was the WORST week for this to happen, Cody & You were traveling tomorrow to Miami to get ready for this years Summer slam where he would be fighting with Roman Reigns & The rock.
He looked up when you came downstairs with the entire comforter wrapped around you & he had to turn around and cover his mouth from letting out a laugh before making his way to you & engulfing you in his arms “Awh sweetheart..” he snorted a little at how you looked with a whole bed’s worth of comforter around you but you glared “Shut up Cody it comforts me.” He hummed and kissed the top of your head “Anything I can get you sweetheart?” You nodded slowly and flopped onto the couch “Pads & Chocolate.”
Cody’s face dropped with sheer panic which was fair, You usually had pads prepared but you were running out so he had to go out and do the shopping for the first time but he rolled his neck and nodded “Yeah of course. I’ll go uh- I’ll go do that now.” He grabbed his keys and practically ran out of the door while you laid on the couch waiting.
So here he was, in the women’s section of the store, there were ten different pad sizes on the packaging that he got concerned & face-timed you “yes Cody?” You answered “Babe what’s your vagina size?” You went silent and furrowed your eyebrows “Sorry?? I’m not following through what do you mean?@ Cody cleared his throat and flipped the camera and pointed at the pads that said Small, Medium, Large, XTRA large which made you sigh “Get medium babe & for the record the pad size isn’t the size of my vagina, it depends off of the flow.” He tossed the pads in the basket and hummed “Yeah well I also never had to buy you pads before so..” You hung up on him mid sentence which left him bewildered in the middle of the store but he went off to the candy isle & tossed a variety of snacks in there, Snickers, Kisses, Hershey chocolate bar, Twix, Chips, Cookies ETC
Soon he came home with bags surrounding his arms while he nudged the door open with his hip and set the bags next to you on the couch “Your knight and shining armor has returned babygirl.” You giggled and sat up while picked you up and carried you upstairs and sat you on the bed while he went back down to retrieve the stuff he got you, You were confused with what he was doing and tried asking but he held out a singular finger before hustling into the bathroom and running a warm bath & dunking a bath bomb inside of it before retrieving you “ ‘mon princess your taking a bath.”
You smiled as you got up and went into the bathroom and discarded your clothes and putting your hair up while he helped you get into the tub, “better?” You smiled nodding “much better, thank you Codes.” He smiled and helped get you washed up before helping you out of the tub and putting you in something more comfortable and loose, he laid you down and turned on your favorite show on your shared ipad and sat it on your lap while giving you the bag of candy he got you
“I don’t need you worrying about tomorrow so later tonight i’ll pack our bags so you can get rest.” He addressed before getting in bed with you and running his hand over your tummy and adding a little pressure “What would I do with you?” You muttered into his shoulder while watching your show.
“y’know if you reallyy wanna get rid of these cramps & painful hot flashes we cannot maybee pause that for a good 9 months if you catch my drift.” “Shutup cody.” You laughed and smacked his chest before he chuckled and gave you a kiss “Offer will still be up on the table.”
That was definitely something you might wanna think about and consider once you were over with your period.
🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @puppy-princ3ss @valkyrurr
xtripleiiix’s Masterlist
A/N- HII lovey!! I hope you liked it i’m sorry if it was to short I was a little swamped today!! But please feel free to send more requests!! If you want you can claim that Emoji so I know if it’s you making cody requests! <3
#oh my fucking goooood#cody rhodes x you#cody rhodes fanfiction#cody rhodes edit#cody rhodes gif#cody rhodes smut#cody rhodes fic#cody rhodes imagine#cody rhodes#american nightmare#wwe imagine#wwe gifs#wwe fanfiction#wwe superstars#wweedit#wwe smackdown#wwe raw#wwe royal rumble#wwe
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Number 54?
This ask game
asked so far.
Does Quarantine count for being sick?
Main Story
Convincing
Aftermath
Hospital
Armin screamed as hot water came down from the shower head above. It practically singed his body and stung his wounds. The gash on his side was the most egregious offender. Why wasn't that taken care of first?!
Armin was quickly pushed along by people in full body suits, given a towel to cover his lower body. They started to attend to his wounds, and Armin hissed in pain when he felt alcohol poured on top of it. They then wrapped his abdomen in bandages to cover the wound.
"What's your size?" A person in the medical suit had asked.
"My size?"
"Your clothing size?" the person pressed.
"Um...I'm a medium shirt and maybe large pants?" Armin guessed, "Why are you doing all of this?"
"Our planet is dealing with a pandemic of our own," Another person explained, "We can't have another outbreak of an unknown disease on our planet with the addition of causing an outbreak on your planet. If anyone from both planets have made contact with each other, they need to be quarantined immediately."
"For how long?" Armin demanded.
"Two weeks to a month," the first person answered.
"A month?!" Armin screeched, "My friend, Mikasa's gone missing! I have to start looking for her! I can't wait a month!"
"Well we can't have more people dying," The first person stated bluntly, "You're staying in quarantine. That's final."
Armin wasn't given much room to argue as he was given a set of clean clothes: a white shirt and black pants. Thankfully Armin was able to guess right with this planet's clothing, since he was able to put on the clothes with ease. The Scout was then escorted down a hall of small rooms with three solid walls and one glass wall. One of the suits opened the door to an empty room and Armin was ushered inside. Armin took a look at his surroundings and was surprised at how different it was from what he was used to. A bed rested against the right side of the wall with a dresser on the left of the bed. Armin noticed a door on the other end of the room, no doubt leading to a bathroom.
Armin jolted when the door shut behind him, leaving Armin isolated in this...prison box. It's been such a short amount of time since the Rumbling ended and every human that was still on ground zero of the end was quickly transported to Earth. However, when transported, they all quickly got separated and de-contaminated as they put it.
Armin rubbed his eyes as he leaned backwards against the glass. But he had no idea if Optimus was even still alive. What about Megatron? He was asked to do something important, to give a message to the both of them, but if they were both in critical condition, how could he and Mikasa even pass the message along? And Mikasa, she was missing? He didn't know where she went, or whether or not her wounds were too severe and would cause her to collapse. He remembered seeing third degree burns on her hands, and blood was drawn. Her abilities might not even work anymore considering the power of the titans have been wiped out. Not to mention, Jean had lost his leg, Connie was dead, and Levi was reportedly so injured he was going to collapse.
Armin slid down the glass and to the ground in defeat. The power of the titans was no more, but there was so much uncertainty hanging in the air. What was he even supposed to-?!
"This is such bullshit!" Armin raised his head at the sound of someone yelling in anger. He snapped his head to see the girl that had wielded the Apex Armor being escorted by the people in suits, followed by her two other friends. All three of them were wearing clean, civilian, clothing, and not that strange armor that adorn two of them. They were placed in the rooms across from him before they locked the doors. The girl groaned in frustration as she slid down the glass, hands and face practically glued to the wall.
"I don't want to do quarantine again!" she whined.
"Can we at least have our phones?!" the youngest of the trio demanded.
"Someone get Agent Fowler! Or Nurse Darby!" The eldest shouted, "Where are they?! Are they alive?!"
"Wait, please take me back to see Connie! I have to bury his body!" Armin snapped his head to see Sasha pleading with the suits as they pulled her towards the room next to Armin.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's not a viable option right now," one of them had told her, "We'll prepare funeral arrangements for your friend, and when you're done with quarantine."
"But-!"
"I will bite all of you and get you infected with whatever I fucking have!" Armin gasped at the sight of Hanji being dragged into the room on his left as they kicked and screamed in anger. It took four of them to push Hanji inside before locking the door behind them. However Armin heard Hanji slam against the glass in anger.
"Hey! You can't keep me locked here! Where's Erwin and Levi?!" Hanji demanded.
"They are quarantined somewhere else!" one of them shouted, "The short one's going to need surgery!"
"Surgery?!" Hanji exclaimed, but they were already walking away, "Hey, don't run from me! What the fuck do you mean surgery?!"
"Hey, shouldn't you get surgery too?" the youngest, Rafael, Armin remembered, had asked, "Your eye is gone."
"My eye was destroyed! I'm not getting it back and they gave me stitches!" Hanji ran their hands through their hair. "Damn it! Someone let me the fuck out of here! I need to check on my comrades!"
"What about Jean?" Armin asked.
"They took him for surgery too," Sasha answered solemnly, "They say with the blood loss, it might be difficult for him to survive."
Armin turned his attention to Rafael. "We have other comrades too! Do you guys know where they could have gone?!"
"Which ones? That's the question," Rafael reminded.
"Annie, Ymir, and Pieck!" Armin answered, "They were titan shifters!"
"...They might be with the Autobots for examination," the eldest, Jack, spoke up.
"What?! Why?!" Hanji demanded.
"I've been hearing that they've been wanting to double check if the titan powers have been destroyed, so they're going to be examining them since they had those powers," Jack explained.
"Well then let me out!" Hanji slammed their fist against the door, "I'm an expert with the titan powers!"
"They're probably getting their info from Wheeljack," Jack explained, "The rest of your friends will probably be put into quarantine if they're just human."
As if on cue, more people in hazmat suits escorted a slew of other people. Gabi was crying at them while Colt was trying to get them to see reason. Both were begging to be released so that they could go back to find Falco. Historia looked mad, glaring at the hazmat suits, but she didn't put up a fight. Onyankopon looked nervous, but the man had complied with their orders, stepping into a room right next to Hanji.
"Onyankopon!" The Commander exclaimed.
"Hanji?!" Onyankopon cried out in surprise while Historia was placed in a room next to Rafael. Gabi wasn't given much comfort or reassurance as she was placed in a room next to Jack while Colt was placed next to her. Armin was surprised; however, when he saw Willy and Kenshin being transported down the halls. Kenshin looked rather pissed off as he wordlessly entered his room next to Historia, while Willy was placed right next to Sasha.
"You can't fucking keep us in here!" Hanji shouted, but was ignored as the hazmat suits ran off to address another situation. Hanji ended up punching the glass, but that caused them to cry out in pain.
"Well, looks like we're going to be stuck here," Jack sighed in defeat.
"Fuck me! I hate quarantine!" Miko yelled.
"How long do they intend to keep us here?" Kenshin demanded, "Hizuru is in disarray! I need to get back to my people!"
"Two weeks to a month," Rafael answered.
"A fucking month!" Kenshin swore.
"They still won't let us see Falco!" Gabi sobbed, "You promised he would be safe!"
"You said your people would help!" Colt shouted in anger.
"Well, we're in the dark right now about how the U.S. government is going to proceed," Rafael explained, "But the last thing that they want is for people to get sick and a virus outbreak happens. If your brother's in a coma, then his immune system is probably weaker so they need to take extra precaution. Still, this is the biggest immigrations of people the U.S. has seen and they need to respond accordingly without getting the public involved."
"Wait, why doesn't the public know?!" Kenshin demanded.
"Because the Autobots and other forms of life are a secret on this world," Armin realized, "Isn't it?"
"Bingo!" Miko pointed finger guns at Armin.
"Disclosing any of this to a population of over 7 billion people would mean chaos," Rafael added, "And with the political discourse on our world as it is, the government has to work overtime to keep this under control."
"Doesn't explain why our 3D gear was confiscated!" Hanji exclaimed.
"Military warfare," Jack, Miko, and Rafael answered in unison.
"What?" Sasha questioned in confusion.
"Dude, your weapons are super decked out for your time period," Miko proclaimed, "I mean, medieval Spidermen!"
"They probably want to study and replicate it," Jack assumed.
"Well, I don't consent to that!" Hanji exclaimed.
Jack peered down the hall to see someone in a hazmat suit coming. "Tell that to General Bryce."
Everyone turned their attention to the man that Jack had named as 'general'. The man had tan skin and a mustache, based on what they could see through the suit. The general then turned his attention to Jack, Miko, and Rafael, and some of them could tell that Bryce didn't looked pleased.
"I can't say that I'm happy about the literal crisis that you have brought to our doorstep," Bryce declared bitterly.
"So you saw the footage of giant titans walking around crushing people and you have that shit attitude," Miko hissed.
"There are millions of people from another planet on ours!" Bryce reminded, "A good portion of them we have to send back to their world because we don't have the resources to accommodate them all!"
"General Bryce, we were dealing with an apocalyptic scenario and had to improvise," Jack reminded, "We stopped another group of humans from going extinct."
"And your valor is commendable, but this situation could cause more problems for our own planet," Bryce reminded.
"We could help, if you let us out of here!" Hanji shouted at him.
"Hanji!" Onyankopon hissed in warning as General Bryce turned to them.
"That is a negative," Bryce declared, "Not until we determine that you won't spread any dangerous pathogens to our troops, or you carry any of our viruses back to your world. All of you will be placed in quarantine, and once we can confirm you are negative for any diseases, you will be vaccinated and returned to your world. We will also need to examine your blood to determine if any of you are carriers of diseases from your world so the scientists can make a vaccine for you."
"My country is in disarray right now! I have to go back!" Kenshin shouted at him.
"That will not be allowed! Not until you are cleared!" Bryce raised his voice.
"We have other people!" Sasha reasoned, "What about Jean?! And Erwin?! Levi?!"
"They are being quarantined and receiving a surgical operation," Bryce informed.
"Doesn't explain why you've decided to confiscate our weapons," Hanji snapped at him.
"That's classified," Bryce answered vaguely.
"When I get out of here, I'm gonna-!"
"What about Agent Fowler and my mom?!" Jack cut Hanji off.
"Nurse Darby has asked to work on the front lines for the time being," Bryce answered.
"Front lines-! She could be infected with something!" Jack shouted.
"It was her decision to make," Bryce explained, "She stated once she experiences symptoms that she will quarantine herself."
"This isn't C-!"
"She knows it's not but there are a lot of injured people she's attending to," Bryce reminded, "Agent Fowler is currently in quarantine somewhere else to check for any airborne viruses."
Bryce noticed the despondent look in Jack's eyes and sighed. "Jack, I know this is not an ideal situation, but these are the conditions we have. We need to work with it."
Bryce turned his attention to everyone else. "You have basic accommodations to help you for the next few weeks. Food will be provided. If there is anything else that you need, we will try to accommodate."
"I want my phone back!" Miko yelled at him.
"Laptop! I have classes!" Rafael added.
Bryce sighed before placing a hand over where his ear should be. "I'll get you your things, but I've been asked to report more of our findings to the higher ups in Washington."
Miko rolled her eyes as they watched Bryce running out of the quarantine area. Jack then turned his attention to Armin and Hanji before crossing his arms.
"We have questions for you," Jack proclaimed in a serious tone.
"Oh, so you're going to interrogate us now?" Hanji seethed.
"Yes, because we're still trying to wrap our heads around the fact that Optimus is alive and working together with Megatron to protect humanity," Jack answered.
Armin couldn't help but grow tense. This...this was going to be a long few weeks.
#attack on prime#transformers prime#tfp#attack on titan#asks#send me asks#aot#snk#shingeki no kyojin#ao3#armin arlert#sasha blause#hanji zoe#jack darby#miko nakadai#rafael esquivel#maccadam#macadam#maccadams#general bryce#gabi braun#snk onyankopon#writing dialogue#dialogue#dialogue prompt#dialogue prompts#new age anthology#colt grice#tfp autobots#tf prime
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Priority Research 7 Predictions - Northern Parliament
Hoo boy, let's get this one over with. This one is going to be a long, long post.
As established in the Dragon Empery post, I will attempt to predict their possible skills as well based on their World of Warships gimmicks. The thing is, the Soviet navy has a lot of made-up warships in World of Warships.
Let's begin with cruisers, since they're gonna take the longest to get through. There is a chance some of these ships end up being gacha units in the future, though; although with different names.
Pyotr Bagration
Pyotr Bagration is a Tier 8... cruiser. With 180mm guns, she classifies as a light cruiser; however, her 180mm guns have insane ballistics that make them hit harder than a lot of other heavy cruisers, even Tallinn.
Bagration is based off of Project 65, specifically one of the largest draft for Project 65, which is equipped with 3 triple 180mm gun turrets and a 15k ton displacement.
Unlike basically every Soviet cruiser from Tier 8 and above, she does not have access to radar. Her speed is high, but her general maneuverability isn't that good. I genuinely can't figure out a skill for her, but she's an option for a PR.
Ochakov
I like comparing Ochakov to Mainz in terms of performance. Ochakov is a light cruiser equipped with fast-firing 152mm guns in dual turrets. Compared to Mainz, she has worse armor, worse alpha damage, and worse DPM; but has an overall better AA and access to radar. Also, in WoWs, I think Ochakov is prettier. Not applicable in Azur Lane of course.
Her skills could involve something related to her fire rate, allowing her to fire faster; or a skill that allows her to detect all enemies and make them more susceptible to damage. Or something.
Dmitri Donskoi
Alright, I don't have much to say about Donskoi. She's literally a bigger Pyotr Bagration; she gets access to radar and a fourth triple 180mm turret with slightly worse reload (12.5s for Donskoi and 11s for Bagration). As a Tier 9 ship, she naturally has more health than her predecessors.
Both Donskoi and Bagration are equally as likely, and both are PR material.
Riga
Not only does she have a cool name (Riga seems like a very pretty city), she's also an interesting ship. Her alpha damage ('alpha damage' being the damage she can dish out in one salvo) is brutal with nine 220mm guns, although her turret traverse time resembles more a battleship than a cruiser (32.7 seconds to turn 180º. Soyuz's gigantic 406mm turrets are faster at 30s for 180º).
Riga is not very stealthy, nor very maneuvrable. However, she is a bit of a grandmother to the Stalingrad, which we'll see below in a second. Riga's gimmick in AL could make her do vastly improved damage with AP guns, or make her outright ignore stuff like medium armor. If that's too broken for AL or not is above me. Both Riga and Donskoi could be PRs, tho.
Alexander Nevsky
Now onto the three possible DR cruisers.
Nevsky is a unique HE spammer. HE spamming is, as the name implies, spamming High Explosive; a tactic many kinds of ship can perform very effectively (Harbin, for example, is a dedicated HE spammer in WoWs). However, Nevsky trades damage per minute for alpha damage. Her reload of 6 seconds is not bad at all, however, much better ships exist for the task - Jinan's reload is 3.5 seconds, and she has 4 more guns. However, Jinan has weak, pathetic, American 127mm guns; while Nevsky has glorious, patriotic Soviet 180mm guns. These eight 180mm guns are considerably better than those found on Tallinn, Bagration or Donskoi.
To top it all off, she has access to the usual convo of radar + hydroacoustic search, meaning she can find you no matter what. Her skills could involve a much improved damage output or fire chance for HE guns, and a skill that allows her to instantly detect submarines the moment they appear, or similar. DR material.
Petropavlovsk
There was some controversy the moment Petropavlovsk was introduced as a replacement for the previous Tier 10 heavy cruiser (Moskva), as both ships share the same gun calliber of 220mm, but Petropavlovsk's shells do almost as much damage and have almost the same penetration values as Bismarck. Bismarck is not the best Tier 8 battleship, of course. But Bismarck is a battleship, Petropavlovsk is a cruiser. And her reload of 14 seconds means this cruiser that has 1 more gun than Bismarck and almost the same values as Bismarck could have almost twice the damage per minute of poor old Bismarck (Bismarck's reload is 26 seconds). That should tell you a lot already.
Petropavlovsk is a "heavy cruiser", the same way Ägir or Alaska are "heavy cruisers". Her guns are insane, and the ship has a very good armor scheme as well. Since she sits so low above the water, it's harder to hit her from a distance - your shells will hit the waves before they touch her hull, losing momentum. She's fast too, although her concealment is... well, she can be seen from 16.3km away (base values). Kremlin (remember that name) can be seen from 16.5km, and she's considerably bigger than Petropavlovsk.
Stalingrad
Known as 'Battlecruiser Stalingrad' by the WoWs community, Stalingrad is a Tier 10 Soviet heavy cruiser armed with nine 305mm guns. They're legitimately one of the best 305mm guns in the whole game. Mecklenburg, a German Tier 10 battleship with sixteen 305mm guns, deals considerably less damage per gun than Stalingrad.
Typical of Soviet heavy cruisers, Stalingrad's high explosive is pathetic while her armor piercing is beyond excellent. Stalin himself guides each projectile with an unnatural accuracy, his hand reaching from beyond the grave to ensure Stalingrad's shells land on the target.
Stalingrad could be a large cruiser meant to spam AP, dealing raw damage to anyone that crosses her path. All her skills could be self-buffs, as the ship is very egocentric in WoWs.
Borodino
Now onto the battleships. There's only 3 so this should be quick.
Borodino is a weird design. Vodka was involved. She takes the Richelieu approach of only having front-facing turrets. Borodino is equipped with two triple 406mm gun turrets, the same one found on the Sovetsky-Soyuz class. They are above average in terms of accuracy, earning her the nickname of "tier 8 Stalingrad". In my own personal experience, they're very (literally) hit or miss.
Borodino has a radar, though. That's unique among battleships, with only 2 other ones having radar to the best of my knowledge (Missouri and Constellation).
Borodino is a tank. She is best played around islands, bow-in. Her small superstructure and large, well protected bow, as well as front-facing turrets; means Borodino is perfect for bow tanking at Tier 8.
She's PR material for sure, but she could be an interesting PR.
Navarin
I'm torn about Navarin. On the one hand, Navarin could easily be DR material. She's unique among all Soviet warships in WoWs, no other ship in the entire nation sharing her gimmick even remotely. There are two Italian battleships and two Italian cruisers that excell at secondary gun warfare; France has at least 2 ships, the US Navy has West Virginia '44, Massachussetts, Georgia and Ohio. Japan has Iwami, Shikishima and Kii. But the Soviet Union? Their only ship that's good at secondary guns is Navarin.
Besides, look at her design. She's old! Her design began in 1914; the Soviet Union wasn't even a thing back then. This monstrosity has three quadruple 406mm guns with rifles that aren't bad at all, as well as a wall of 130mm secondary guns on each side. She even has casemate guns, at Tier 9! She fights against modern warships such as Iowa, Swedish post-war destroyers, and aircraft carriers with jet planes. Granny needs DR status.
But yes, her gimmick in WoWs is that - just like Friedrich der Grosse, Prinz Rupprecht or Odin; she's a secondary gun brawler. She's meant to get close to the enemy and blast her 17 130mm guns per side, and 12 406mm guns, at 10km or less. And yes, this girl is covered in guns.
Kremlin
I don't lose anything by mentioning her.
With the introduction of gacha UR Sovetsky Soyuz, DR Kremlin is unlikely. Well, so was Hindenburg.
Kremlin is the epitome of Soviet battleships. Extremely tanky when bow-in, vulnerable when broadside, big guns that do big damage but have unreliable accuracy. I love her. Kremlin is a big, slow, slumbering warship that still somehow manages to have a 29 second reload on her monstrous 457mm guns.
Her skills would represent this sheer damage potential, maybe allowing a skill that redirects the damage the vanguard takes into a shield she generates - like a much, much better Illustrious.
Admiral Nakhimov
Finally, we have another aircraft carrier.
Nakhimov is different enough from Chkalov, as well as being a Tier 10 while Chkalov is Tier 8.
Nakhimov shares the same gameplay as the other Soviet CVs - big number of planes in a single squadron. Her torpedo bombers consist of a flight of 7 planes, each one dropping a torpedo, all at the same time. She fires a total of 32 rockets from her 8 attack aircraft, all at the same time. She drops 7 powerful bombs with her skip bombers. That's right, Nakhimov doesn't have dive bombers. She is equipped with skip bombers, which are bombers that drop their payload in such a way that it bounces on the water like a rock until it hits the enemy. Yes, those things existed in real life.
Nakhimov could be an extremely versatile and hyper-aggressive DR CV, capable of taking on all sorts of enemies.
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Halo Reloaded: Feeding Frenzy
The Autumn's mess hall was alive with the usual din of chattering soldiers and clanging dishes, a symphony of everyday military life. However, at one corner table, a scene unfolded that would have made any ordinary observer do a double-take. Linda-058, known more for her deadly precision with a sniper rifle than her gastronomic exploits, was embarked on a veritable odyssey of eating.
Her armor, a testament to countless battles, stood quietly beside her, its metallic sheen catching the fluorescent lights. The table in front of her resembled less a place for a meal and more a testament to culinary excess. She methodically worked her way through five plates of BBQ steak. Each piece was cooked to a perfect medium-rare, the outside charred just enough to lock in a smoky flavor that melded seamlessly with the juicy, tender interior.
Beside the demolished plates of steak lay the remains of sixteen trays of teriyaki-flavored yakisoba. The empty containers were streaked with the remnants of the sauce, a sweet and savory glaze that had once coated the soft, springy noodles and tender chunks of chicken.
In a display of contrasting tastes, ten bowls that had been heaped with chocolate ice cream were now little more than empty shells, streaked with the remnants of the rich, creamy dessert. Linda seemed to relish the cool, sweet treat as a counterbalance to the savory onslaught of her main course.
Adding to this impressive array were two large pans of lasagna, their layers of pasta, rich cheese, and tangy tomato sauce now indistinguishable, a testament to Linda's thorough enjoyment. And, as if to top off this feast, two buckets of turkey legs lay picked clean, the meat so tender it had fallen off the bone, soaked in a hearty, savory gravy.
Across from this spectacle sat John; his own meal, a simple tray of beef-stew, looks much more... conversative than Linda's. His posture was relaxed, his movements as he ate his own, considerably smaller meal, were methodical and composed. His eyes observed Linda with a mixture of amusement and adoration.
“Ever consider a second career as a competitive eater, Linda?” John’s voice held a playful edge, a rare lightness for the Spartan known for his stoicism. Linda paused, a half-eaten turkey leg in hand, and met John’s gaze. “Why, John, worried I’ll eat everyone out of house and home?” Her voice was light, teasing, a stark contrast to her usual terse communication in the field.
John’s reply was dry, a hint of a smirk in his tone. “Just thinking about the logistics of resupplying our food inventory.” Linda chuckled softly, setting the turkey leg down. “Food is fuel, John. You of all people should understand the importance of being well-fueled for whatever comes next.”
John nodded slightly, conceding the point. “I suppose if anyone can turn eating into a tactical advantage, it’s you, Linda.” There was a brief silence, filled only by the ambient sounds of the mess hall, before Linda spoke again, her tone more reflective. “We push ourselves to the limit in every other aspect of our lives. Why should enjoying a good meal be any different?”
John chuckles. “Fair enough.” As they continued their meal, the conversation drifted to lighter topics, a rare moment of normalcy in the life of a Spartan. For a brief time, the looming shadow of war receded, giving way to the simple pleasure of sharing a meal and conversation with a trusted comrade.
Finally, as Linda pushed back from the table, a look of contentment on her face, they both stood. Without another word, they collected Linda's armor and exited the mess hall, their strides in sync, ready to face whatever challenges the universe had in store for them.
@empresskadia, @silverpelt3600, @makowrites, @authortobenamedlater, @ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask, @mrtobenamedlater.
#halo#halo fanfic#halo fanfiction#master chief fanfiction#master chief fanfic#master chief#john 117#halo au#halo headcanon#john 117 x linda 058#linda 058#halo reloaded#ultimate universe#Ultimate halo
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Reactions to spoilery cutscenes
Curiosity got the better of me, and I watched all the cutscenes that WoWhead posted from 11.0.
Spoilers and rambling below.
[Disclaimer: These are just my poorly-organized thoughts after watching cutscenes online without much context. Take them with a grain of salt.]
First, the prematurely-gray elephant in the room: Khadgar. I really enjoyed him as a character and I will miss him. Was it a fitting sendoff for such a huge lore figure? Not in my opinion. It was basically copying Rhonin's death (although at least this was in game and not in a novel). And Atiesh got broken, too. As a mage main, that made me cringe, and the destruction of my home city didn't feel good, either. The visual effects of it blowing up in a void explosion were impressive, at least.
Moving on... From what I've seen, I like what they're doing with Moira and her son, and their dynamic with Magni. Talk about a redemption arc, going from the Worst Father of the Year to doting grand'da. Aww. I'm not sorry to see the diamond shell go away. It was stingy of Azeroth not to give him any armor to keep, though. Harumph.
As for the new short folk...I love their blue gryphons, but otherwise they're not my cup o' tea, aesthetically, and I feel like the mechanical motif should stay with the gnomes and mechagnomes. Also, dwarves without Scottish accents seem so wrong. I know that's a ridiculous thing to say because why the hell did that get to be a thing anyway, but it's what we're used to. (Incidentally, exposure to WoW dwarves helped me do a killer Scottish accent when I want to. My best friend does a great Irish accent, so sometimes we'll greet each other in our respective fake accents. Maybe you have to be there, but it amuses us.)
ANYWAY...
Warcraft has always had a vaguely cartoony style. In the last several years the quality of the character models has improved noticeably. I feel like Blizzard is struggling to find a happy medium wherein it still has that signature Warcraft vibe while taking advantage of the improved graphics. Which is a long winded way to say that I find Anduin's detailed eyelashes and the M.C. Escheresque intricacies of Alleria's hair distracting. Anduin's facial structure, stubble, and the under layer of his hair look somewhat realistic, but the top layer of his hair and his vividly blue eyes look like they're from a different universe.
Speaking of Alleria, I don't understand the need to completely redesign her character. Funky winged eyeliner and an asymmetric cape, a totally different color palette, her hair all over the place...it's like she's a completely different character. Sure, a real person can have a major makeover and that's totally fine, but when you're dealing with a fictional character who has a distinct "look" to them, you should have a very, very good reason to throw away the familiarity/recognition you've already established. I felt a little bit that way when Jaina got her makeover for BFA, but since she's by far the most prominent human woman in the franchise it was easier to adjust. We have how many rail-thin high/blood/void elven women now? A lot. They could have done some cool, subtle things with slowly changing her Legion-era outfit to be more void-themed over time, but I suppose that would require extra modeling work that would deprive the playerbase of a raid tier...
I have no idea who Aelric Leid is, but I'd know Jim Pirri's voice anywhere. I'm glad he's still around the franchise after Nathanos was sent off to live happily ever after in a quiet corner of Ardenweald with his true love after she rescued him from the maw and you can pry that headcanon from my cold, not-undead hands killed off.
So we have a Wrynn not climbing about the fleeing ship with his allies but instead jumping down to fight the thing trying to destroy said ship, even knowing it will probably lead to his death. GEE, WHERE HAVE I SEEN THAT BEFORE?! Okay, I have to admit that did give me some feels. There's a fine line between poignant, thematically significant callbacks and gratuitously echoing past imagery while screaming, "Look! It's the thing! You remember the thing, right? Here it is again! Isn't that cool?" I'm looking at you, tons of Arthas parallels they pushed on Anduin in BFA and Shadowlands. Ahem. So yeah, I see what you did there, Blizzard, and I don't hate it. Let me conjure you a mana cookie.
Ansurek looked SO much cooler before her void power-up. She looks creepy af with all those red eyes and the stuff on her head, yet she's got a normal human mouth and a cutesy nose. WTF? Come on, let the creepy spider queen be monstrous! Trust me, people will still want to fuck her. Source: I've been on the internet.
"With our renewed strength, our kingdom shall be reborn." Zzzzzzz... Huh? Wha'? Oh. I'm sorry, I could have sworn I've heard this schtick about 874 times already.
Is Alleria really stupid enough to think she can kill (the equivalent of?) an Old God with an arrow? There's no way a shapeshifting being of the void could possibly put up an illusion or teleport away at the last second! /facepalm (Although soon after she was able to gut-punch Xal'atath to make her back up, so maybe it wasn't such a dumb strategy... I dunno. I'm just judging a bunch of short cutscenes out of context.)
A Windrunner sister gripping her bow so tightly we hear the leather squeak. Never seen that before, either.
I do like Xal'atath so far. She's got the sultry voice of Azshara, the (over)confidence of Lich King Arthas, and the creepy wrongness of her Old God pals. Voice aside, she's not as sexualized as a lot of her predecessors in the franchise, which is a relief. (I love Azshara to bits but she must have used massive amounts of double-sided tape and/or powerful magic to keep her boobs in that dress back in her pre-naga days.)
So yeah. I watched the in-game cinematics. There was some good, some bad, and some stuff I like to clown on but wasn't actually that awful. I can't say that it made me reconsider my decision not to play the expansion, but I'm glad I know a little bit more about what's going on.
Now, since they so rudely destroyed Dalaran, I'll have to picture my mage curling up in the library in Stormwind Keep, instead. Because that's what I imagine she does when I'm not playing the game. ;)
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3 13 18 for the tav ask game!!!
Thank you my dear <3 <3 <3
[Tav Ask Game]
3. what feats have you picked for them? There's so many neat ones but I went kind of boring for Naomi! I couldn't resist the ability score improvements, and then I also picked up medium armor proficiency 'cause I was having a rough time taking so many hits with light armor. (Really happy I did for aesthetic reasons as well, I adore the dye I ended up putting on her yaun-ti scale mail).
13. does your tav willingly do the "silly" options, eg. licking the spider, kissing the goblin's foot, etc.?
To a point! She's down to clown, but deep down, she has a sense of pride that she doesn't often compromise. Even when she's being silly, she privately sees herself as an Artiste working her craft and takes herself a little too seriously to "stoop" to certain levels.
She'll play dumb when a situation calls for it (sometimes not just playing the part), put on an over-the-top show for Thisobald Thorm, say spooky or silly things just to add some levity to tense situations, or to throw someone off balance in a conversation to take the upper hand. She'll let the priest of Loviatar go to town on her (particularly because she noticed it got a rise out of Astarion ;) ). But she won't lick the spider or kiss any goblin feet.
18. what made them train in the class they fight in?
Naomi grew up in a temple to Eilistraee, and had to help defend her home from Lolth-sworn and the other dangers of living in the Underdark. She learned basic fighting/survival skills very young out of necessity. She never showed much promise as a cleric, but with Eilistraee's domain including dance and music, the door was open for her very early to learn bardic arts under temple tutelage. She took to it readily, as much to entertain herself as to learn spellwork.
She felt very adrift of purpose in the temple as she got older, not wanting to go to war, and feeling some fatigue/frustration with religion more generally (why won't you let more of us back into Arvandor, Corellon?!). What eventually made her resolve to see the surface was a desire to follow Eilistraee's teachings that drow should be a part of surface society. And she figured traveling around and playing is the sort of thing a good bard should do.
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Finding His Way - Chapter Ten
Summary: A showdown with Moff Gideon and some domestic fluff.
Rating: PG
Din locked in the coordinates for Bardos and sat back in the pilot’s seat. It had been a long time since he had been alone on the ship and it felt … wrong. Years he’d spent alone in this ship, or similar ones, traveling from one job to the next, and it always felt right but now he realized how lonely he had been. He glanced over at the co-pilot’s seat, remembering the time Ad’ika had sat there pressing buttons until he’d had to put the kid in his lap to keep him from sending the ship spinning out of control. Or the many times that Mariana had sat there beside him, not talking, just being there, keeping him company as they soared through the vastness of cold, dark space.
He knew he should be concentrating on the mission ahead of him, but it would be several hours before he reached his destination and he couldn’t make any firm plans until he’d gotten eyes on the situation, so he indulged himself. He closed his eyes and thought back over his conversation with Mariana. Had he done the right thing? Every word he’d said was true; he knew in his heart that she was his riddur, his wife, his soulmate. But should he have waited? Was it selfishness that had driven him to remove the helmet, a desire to finally see her face as he kissed her … or was it fear that this might be their only chance to look each other in the eyes?
He took off his helmet and sat it on the dashboard in front of him. The sleek lines of beskar reflected the lights in a kaleidoscope of colors. He rubbed his hand over his face, through his hair, trying to scrub away the doubts. “I will come back, cyar’ika,” he whispered. He hoped he was still telling the truth.
*********************
Bardos was a temperate planet. Leia’s intel had placed Gideon in a medium-sized city on one of the southern continents, so Din landed the Razor Crest behind a low range of hills a few miles from the city limits. His binoculars allowed him a decent view of the layout, and more importantly, revealed a number of suspiciously Imperial looking ships in the spaceport on the western edge.
Luke had offered him R2D2 for reconnaissance, and now Din wished he’d taken the Jedi up on the offer. The droid was annoying, but had proved itself harmless, and it would have made things a lot easier if he could get eyes on the Imp movements without risking exposing himself. Di’kut, he admonished himself. He’d just have to do his best to avoid notice until he was ready to reveal his presence.
He found a surveillance spot on the roof of a warehouse near the spaceport and monitored the situation until he had a pretty good idea of where the troopers were going. Not all of them were in armor, but they all seemed to be regular Storm Troopers, not Death Troopers, which was one bit of good luck. They were visiting several parts of the city, but one group, always in armor, always in perfect step, kept returning to the same building, a moderately grand private house surrounded by a wall topped with durasteel spikes. He watched for four days, making sure he had a good grasp of their routine.
He returned to the Razor Crest and prepared his weapons. Blasters, vibroknife, rifle, the last of his Whistling Birds, flamethrower, grappling hooks … his usual arsenal. Last, but not least, he clipped the borrowed lightsaber to his belt. He was ready.
Before he left the ship, he took one last look around, just in case.
********************
It had been a week since Din left, and Mariana was getting jumpy. Every time she heard Luke or R2 come anywhere near her little house, she was certain there had been a message. She knew that Leia’s operatives were keeping an eye on Bardos but so far they’d heard nothing other than a brief confirmation that the Razor Crest had been spotted on the ground near the city where Gideon was believed to be.
She tried to keep busy, but there wasn’t much to do. Luke had already retrieved everything from the caves that there was to be found, and without proper archival tools, there wasn’t much they could do with the manuscripts at the moment without risking further deterioration. Ad’ika took up some of her time, but he was more subdued than usual, content most of the time to sit quietly and play with Froggy and Ball and the blocks.
“I’m going to the settlement to pick up some more supplies,” Luke said on the morning of the ninth day. “It’s a short flight. I’ll leave R2 here to keep you company.”
She heard the roar of his X-wing as it lifted off from the landing pad hidden behind the trees on the far rim of the valley. Knowing she was alone, she indulged in a good cry. It was foolish; crying didn’t do anything, wasn’t going to make Din come back any sooner, but it helped ease the anxiety and pain a little. She hadn’t realized how accustomed she’d become to his stoic presence during the day. She knew she missed his warmth at night, his voice softly buzzing in her ear as he whispered secrets and stories that were for her alone. But now she missed the simple fact of knowing he was here.
When Luke returned, there was a smallish transport craft with him. R2 beeped excitedly but Mariana wasn’t sure if it was a positive or negative reaction to the visitor. I really need to learn some Binary, she thought.
A tall humanoid with a reddish cast to its skin and long, intricately braided black hair followed Luke down the path from the landing pad. Behind them came two droids: one a basic mag-lev transport droid and the other a slightly battered bipedal droid with an impressive array of extra arms.
“Mariana, meet Klev,” Luke said, indicating the alien. “They are from the settlement.”
Klev extended a hand and made a complicated gesture. Mariana wasn’t sure what to do in response and was relieved when Klev laughed. “Sorry, I am not used to human greeting rituals. I believe you make do with a simple handshake?”
“Yes,” she said, taking the alien’s hand. It was warmer than she expected, and slightly furred.
“Female, correct?”
“Yes,” Luke said. “The Florianas have only one gender,” he explained. “When they found out you were here, they had to get a look for themselves.”
“You make it sound so voyeuristic, Master Skywalker,” Klev said. “I am simply curious about other species. Here on this continent we do not get the volume of offworld visitors that is common on other parts of the planet. I would have come visiting sooner if I had known that the other male was going to depart.” They inclined their head toward Mariana. “We do not have mated pairs in my species, and I would have liked to observe your interactions.”
Luke stifled a laugh, and Mariana shot him a look. “Now that sounds voyeuristic, Klev,” he said.
“I meant no harm,” Klev said quickly. “I did not mean that type of interaction, of course I would respect the privacy of the human mating process …”
“It’s okay,” Mariana said before things got even more awkward. “I’m sorry you couldn’t meet my husband, but hopefully he’ll be back soon.”
Klev inclined their head again and was about to speak when their eyes widened and they gasped. “What .. what is this creature?” They said. Mariana turned to see Ad’ika in the doorway with Froggy in his hand. She picked him up and turned back to Klev.
“This is my son, Ad’ika,” she said proudly. “He’s adopted, if you couldn’t tell.”
“Interspecies adoption,” Klev said with delight. “Humans are full of surprises.”
The bipedal droid stepped forward, its voice vaguely female. “I would like to examine it if I may. I have not encountered this species before.”
Mariana took an involuntary step back. “Do not be afraid of RN-42,” Klev said. “It is a nurse droid and responsible for the health and well-being of those in this section of the continent.”
The droid extended one of its many arms. “You may call me FourTwo. When I learned there were new life forms in my sector, I was compelled to check in.”
Mariana gingerly shook the droid’s appendage. “Pleased to meet you, FourTwo,” she said. “Sorry if I seemed alarmed.”
“But maternal instinct compelled you to protect the child,” the droid said. “Understandable. Biological life forms are constrained by so many emotions.”
“Well,” said Luke. “I’m going to unpack the supplies, if anyone cares. You all have fun.”
Mariana shot him another look, but the Jedi innocently ignored her. Klev held out their hands. “May I hold them? Sorry … him. Male is him, female is her, correct?”
“Yes,” she said, handing Ad’ika over to the Floriana. FourTwo began to scan the child’s body with a variety of instruments. The two of them were fascinated and Ad’ika was eating it up.
After several minutes, FourTwo swiveled its head toward Mariana. “Your turn,” it said.
“What?”
“It is my directive to care for the physical well-being of every sentient life form in my sector. I must examine you for any potential health issues that may need to be addressed during your stay here.”
She hadn’t had a medical checkup in .. well, she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done more than patch up an injury. “Okay, what do I need to do?”
“Nothing. I shall complete all the necessary scans without your assistance.” The various arms began to move up and down as different scanners and devices beeped and whirred. “Hmm.”
“What does ‘Hmm’ mean?” Mariana asked nervously. FourTwo hadn’t said “Hmm” when examining Ad’ika.
“I require a blood sample,” the droid said. Two arms shot out, one taking a firm hold of her arm, the other revealing a small needle. With a sharp jab, it extracted a small amount of blood and popped it into a compartment in its torso.
“Ah, good,” the droid said after a few moments. “As I suspected. Nothing out of the ordinary for a human female in the first trimester.”
“Wait .. what?” Mariana stammered. Her heart was pounding in her ears.
“I detected some anomalous hormonal readings in my initial scan but blood analysis confirmed that they are consistent with hormonal fluctuations during pregnancy.”
Mariana shook her head. “No, that can’t be right. I’m not … I have a contraceptive implant.” Three years ago, her owner had fitted all his slaves with the implants after one of them had to stop working in the fields after getting pregnant. The implants were supposed to last for ten years. She’d been up front with Din about it the very first night, when he’d expressed some concerns about the consequences of their intimacy.
FourTwo made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “That thing?” The droid said. “It is useless. That type of implant was designed for species that have one or two breeding cycles per year. They are not very effective in humans, except in the first year after implantation. I assure you that you are most definitely pregnant.”
“This is good news, is it not?” Klev asked carefully. “This is the purpose of marriage, correct?”
“One of them,” she said shakily. “And yes, it is good news, it’s just … unexpected.” She laughed weakly. “Damn him, he’d better come back in one piece now, because I am not ready to raise two kids by myself.” She took Ad’ika back into her arms. “Looks like we’re going to be a clan of four, kiddo.”
**************************
“Come on, Gideon,” Din muttered. It had been almost two weeks since he’d arrived and so far Moff Gideon hadn’t taken the bait. After his reconnaissance, Din had entered the city from the eastern edge, not bothering to be discreet. He knew that rumors of a beskar-clad Mandalorian had to have reached Imperial ears by now. He occasionally saw a Storm Trooper on the streets, but no one had approached him yet. The inn he was staying at was not the most pleasant place, located directly behind the local stockyards, but it was cheap and offered a quick route out of town if necessary.
He stood now at the intersection of two main roads not far from the house he was certain Gideon was holed up in. He hadn’t seen the man yet, though, and there was always room for doubt. If the Imps didn’t make a move soon, he’d have to give up, regroup and wait for more intel from Senator Organa. Or he could make the first move.
“Rangir,” he finally said. To hell with it. He was tired of waiting. After one last weapons check, he strode down the street and approached the gates of the compound.
A Trooper immediately blocked his path, rifle cocked and ready. “State your business.”
“I’m here to see Moff Gideon,” Din said. “He has something I want.”
The Trooper cocked his helmet as if listening to a private comm. “Yes, sir,” he said after a moment. Straightening his helmet, he motioned with the gun for Din to enter the gates. “He’s been expecting you.”
Once inside the gates, Din let his awareness expand to take in the entire courtyard. He spotted several ways to get out, and several more places to avoid getting trapped in. He filed them away in case he needed them later.
A pair of smartly dressed Troopers with red pauldrons on their shoulders stepped forward, blasters in hand. “Come with us,” they said. “Hands where we can see them.”
Din held his hands up, away from his weapons. He thanked the stars they hadn’t insisted he disarm himself immediately, but he was under no illusion that he’d be allowed to walk right up to Gideon with his full complement of weapons. Three more Troopers fell in behind him, rifles trained on the back of his neck, and they entered the building itself.
Their boots echoed on the tiled floor of the hallway that led toward a set of interior doors inlaid in a variety of woods. It was an abstract pattern, angular and harsh. The lead Troopers pulled the doors open and ushered him into what had probably once been a dining hall or ballroom, a gathering place for guests. The far end held a raised dais, accessed by a short flight of shallow steps, at the top of which stood Moff Gideon, looking incredibly smug.
“Ah, Mr. Djarin,” he said, spreading his hands in welcome. “I wondered how long it would take you to give in and knock on my door.” He waved the extra Troopers out of the room, leaving only the two red pauldroned ones to guard the doors. “Please, come in. We can be civilized about this, if you’re smart enough.”
Din approached the dais. When he was about halfway there, Gideon raised one hand. “Far enough. Lay down your weapons before you come any closer.”
Din carefully removed his rifle, his blasters, the various knives and other small arms that hung ready, and laid them on the blue-tiled floor. Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Impressive,” he said. “You certainly came prepared. Pity you won’t get a chance to use any of them. A Mandalorian in battle is a thing of beauty.”
“What do you know about the beauty of Manda?” Din growled. He wanted to get Gideon off guard a bit, hoping he wouldn’t notice the lightsaber still clipped to his belt.
Gideon laughed. “More than you would expect,” he said. “But you said I have something you want. I wonder what that could be?” He slid a hand into the pocket of his uniform jacket. “Of course, you have something I want, so perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”
Although it pained him deeply, Din said, “I’m listening.”
Gideon withdrew his hand from his pocket. He held the hilt of a lightsaber in his hand. He lifted it in front of him and thumbed the switch. With a low hum, the blade sprang to life. Unlike the blade of Skywalker’s sabers, this one was black like the depths of space, with a faint white-hot glow around the edges.
“Do you recognize this blade, Mr. Djarin?” Gideon slowly rotated the weapon, admiring the strange perfection of it.
“Hair Dha Kad’au,” Din said reverently. The Darksaber. It was real.
Gideon smiled. “Very good. And I’m sure the sight of it in my hand is an abomination to a devout man like yourself.” He stepped down one step, coming slightly closer, still holding the blade in front of him.
“You would be correct,” Din said. His hand itched to draw his own lightsaber but it was too soon. He shifted his weight, as if taking an unconscious half-step toward the Darksaber. He saw the corner of Gideon’s mouth curl, and knew he had a chance to make this work.
“And you have something that I want, something that I believe you are quite fond of, but that really has no practical use for you. This, on the other hand … with this, you would be a hero. The one to bring the fabled weapon of the Manda’lor back to the Mando’ade. A leader, someone to be reckoned with.”
“Also correct,” Din said. He used the retinal controls in his helmet to target the two Troopers with his Whistling Birds. He took another half-step forward.
“So, perhaps we can come to an understanding,” Gideon said. He lazily swung the blade back and forth, and Din tracked it with his helmet.
“Perhaps we can,” Din said. He waited a moment, for Gideon to relax slightly, sure he had the upper hand. Then, he struck.
Activating the Whistling Birds with a glance, Din dropped to his knees and rolled aside. The Whistling Birds found their marks, taking out the two Troopers. Din freed his lightsaber and was on his feet, its blue blade sparking in front of him, before they hit the ground.
Gideon grinned. “Impressive,” he admitted, dropping into a fighting stance. “A Mandalorian using a Jedi weapon. You’ve been busy since we last met, Mr. Djarin.”
Din said nothing, just mirrored Gideon’s stance. He could be patient.
The doors behind him opened, the three remaining Troopers pouring in. Before they could aim their blasters, Din shook loose the small blaster he’d concealed beneath his left forearm plate and shot them all. Then he was facing Gideon again, saber still ready in his right hand.
Gideon’s smile faltered just a bit. “Shall we, then?” He said. He made a small bow toward Din, lunging forward at the last second to strike viciously with the Darksaber. Din parried and the two blades clashed with a horrific screech. Sparks flew as the blades slid against each other and both men stepped back to regroup.
Again and again, Gideon attacked, and each time Din parried. The Moff was shorter, and lighter, but damn, he knew how to wield a blade. “You can hold me off for a while, Djarin, but this isn’t your forte. You know it, and I know it. This can only end one way.”
Din did not reply, concentrating on the fight. He saw a chance to make his own advance and took it, but Gideon parried, nearly spinning Din’s blade out of his hand. He dropped back into a defensive position, content to wait for the next opening. Gideon continued his attack, pressing Din back step by step, away from the dais. Every time Gideon advanced, Din gave ground, hoping to lull his opponent into making another small mistake.
Then Gideon lunged forward, narrowly missing the side of Din’s helmet. Din raised his lightsaber to parry and stepped back. His foot came down on one of his own discarded weapons and slipped out from under him. He went down on one knee and Gideon raised the Darksaber for a killing blow.
“Say goodbye, Mr. Djarin,” the Moff said.
Din dropped his lightsaber and raised his hands in front of him. “Please,” he begged. “You can have the Child. You can keep the Darksaber. Just don’t kill me.”
Gideon laughed. “So the great Mandalorian warrior is a coward after all.” He raised his blade triumphantly.
Din closed his eyes and lowered his arms, waiting for the final blow. As Gideon’s arm swung down, Din’s hand darted out, grabbed the lightsaber, thumbed it on and raised the blade into Gideon’s chest. The Moff gasped in disbelief as he felt the lightsaber strike home.
“I am not a coward, Moff Gideon,” Din said quietly. They were the last words the Imperial bastard ever heard.
Gideon’s body dropped to the ground, the Darksaber rolling away from his slack hand. Din switched off his lightsaber and began gathering his weapons, including the Darksaber. It would not be long before more Troopers arrived on the scene.
*******************
“I know I said I’d try to get there for Ben’s birthday,” she heard Luke saying, “but Djarin’s not back yet. I can’t leave them alone.” The reply was muffled, and Mariana walked away. She’d heard enough.
It had been over two weeks since Din left, and still no word. She was beginning to lose hope that he was coming back. Just two days ago, Leia’s operatives had reported that the Razor Crest was still in place outside the city and hadn’t moved since it landed.
She felt bad for Luke. He had finished his business here on Florian but was unable to leave. She knew he wanted to head back to Coruscant, to see his family, but he was stuck just as much as she was. Until they knew for sure if Din was coming back or not, they were both in limbo.
Ad’ika was napping and she’d taken the opportunity to go for a quick stroll. She tried to take a walk every day, sometimes with Ad’ika in tow, sometimes alone. FourTwo had advised her on proper prenatal care, and exercise was one of the many things the nurse droid had suggested. It still hadn’t quite sunk in that she was going to have a baby. In fact, she was still coming to terms with the fact that she and Din were married.
The Empire had taken away her family once and now that she’d finally found another one, that blasted Moff Gideon was trying to take it away, too. She swallowed her bitterness; Luke had warned her that hate and anger were not healthy emotions, but how could she not hate the ideology that had killed her parents, sent her into slavery, hunted down innocent children like Ad’ika and might leave her a widow before she’d even had a chance to really be a wife?
She wandered down the trail toward the little meadow where Luke and Din had practiced fighting. There were more wildflowers blooming now, little blue ones scattered beneath the yellow ones and a few bright pink clusters here and there. She picked a bouquet for Ad’ika. They’d come here the other day and he’d enjoyed watching the insects buzzing around the flowers — and the little lizards that hunted the insects. She’d had to stop him from eating one, which had made him laugh and scamper away. She smiled at the memory and was straightening up when she heard the roar of an engine overhead. She looked up just in time to see a large silver ship drop toward the coast. The flowers fell from her hand and she began to run.
Luke was waiting with Ad’ika when she reached the village. “Go on,” he said. “We’re right behind you. But be careful!”
She dashed past him, but slowed as she reached the bottom of the steep trail. She couldn’t run up it but she began climbing as fast as she could, stumbling now and then but never quite losing her footing. She was out of breath and had a stitch in her side by the time she reached the top, but she only paused for a moment to look back and make sure Luke was following. He was, and she pressed onward across the scrubland.
The Razor Crest had settled down on nearly the same spot it had left two weeks ago. The engines were powered down by the time she reached it, but the ramp was still up.
For a long moment, nothing moved. Then the ramp slowly began to lower. She held her breath until it touched the ground and Din appeared at the top of the ramp. Then she ran forward, fairly leaping into his arms.
“Cyar’ika,” he said, pulling her into a tight embrace. “I told you I’d come back.”
Luke and Ad’ika arrived and she heard the child squealing, “Da!!!” Luke let him down and his little feet carried him up the ramp as fast as he could go. Din leaned down to scoop him up and pull him into the hug.
“I take it you were successful,” Luke said after giving them a moment.
Din released her from his arms and handed Ad’ika over to her. He unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and tossed it over to the Jedi. “Thanks for the loan, but I won’t be needing this anymore. I have my own,” he said. He unclipped another saber and thumbed it on. A midnight dark blade shimmered into existence, like a rip in the fabric of the world.
“Congratulations, Mand’alor,” Luke said with a bow.
Din shook his head. “Not for long,” he said, shutting the blade off. “This isn’t meant for me.”
They took their time walking back to the village. It was late in the day, and they all decided it made the most sense to spend one last night in the ruins and leave in the morning. Mariana could tell that Din was tired, even though he showed no outward signs of it and she was glad he’d get a chance to rest before they headed off planet.
Luke took Ad’ika with him into his building. “R2 and I will look after this little guy for a while,” he said. “And congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Djarin.” He winked before disappearing into the building.
“So,” said Din as they walked into their own building.
“So,” she said.
Din crossed to the table, sat down and began to strip off his armor. The helmet was first to come off and he ran his hand through his hair, which had been plastered down with sweat. It stood out in all directions, making him look like a little boy who’d just woken up from a very intense nap.
Mariana sank into the other chair and helped him undo the rest of the armor. They made a pile of beskar on the floor, but left the helmet and the Darksaber on the table.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.
He shook his head. “Not yet.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. His eyes were exhausted but happy. “We have plenty of time.”
She slid out of her chair and into his lap. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. “This is nice,” he murmured. He sounded like he was ready to fall asleep at any moment.
“You’re tired,” she said. “You should lie down.”
“Hmm,” he said. “If we lie down, I won’t want to sleep.” The effect was spoiled by a yawn that threatened to split his jaw in two.
“Come on, cyar’ika. Come to bed.” She stood up and tugged at his hand. He stood reluctantly and she led him over to the bed. He sank down onto the mattress with a groan. She removed his boots and by the time she was finished, he was asleep. She kissed his forehead and tucked the blanket around his shoulders, before leaving the room.
She walked to Luke’s, where she found Ad’ika and R2 fiddling with something on the workbench that had a lot of different colored lights. “He’s making a toy for him,” Luke said. “To teach him Binary. I told him the kid can’t even speak one language properly yet, there’s no need to throw another one at him, but R2 insisted.” He tilted his head at her. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
“He’s asleep,” she said. “I’ll take Ad’ika back, give you and R2 a chance to pack everything up. I can talk to Din later. Right now he needs to rest.”
“Get some rest yourself,” Luke said. “Trust me, get it now, because you’re going to need it later.” He smiled. “I don’t think Han and Leia got a decent night’s sleep until Ben turned two. Those two are not pretty when they are tired.”
She laid her hand against Luke’s cheek and pressed a quick kiss against the other one. “Thank you again, for everything,” she said.
He shrugged. “It’s what we Jedi do. We help people.” He kissed her cheek. “Take care of that husband of yours. And may the Force be with you.”
***************************
Din woke up with his face smashed into a pillow. He didn’t remember getting into bed. The last thing he clearly remembered was sitting at the table, leaning back against the wall, wrapping his arms around Mariana … he lifted his head a fraction of an inch and looked around the room.
Mariana and Ad’ika were packing things into their bags. Well, she was packing things, and Ad’ika was removing them. “Put that back,” she whispered. Ad’ika giggled. “Shh, we have to be quiet. Daddy’s asleep.”
“No, he’s not,” Din said, propping himself up on one elbow. He still felt a bit muzzy from sleep but at least he was able to focus on them properly.
“Da!” Ad’ika scrambled over the bed and into his arms. He lay back, settling the child on his chest. By the stars, he’d missed this.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked.
“About four, maybe five hours,” Mariana replied. She lay down beside them and started playing with his hair with one hand and stroking Ad’ika’s ear with the other. “From the looks of you, you need about ten hours more.”
“I didn’t sleep much while I was gone,” he admitted.
“Still not ready to talk about it?”
“No.” He shifted onto his side so that Ad’ika lay between them and he was facing her. “Right now I just want to be here, with you, with my family.” He traced a finger down her face, tucking that ever errant strand of hair behind her ear again. “My clan of three.”
“Four,” she said.
“What?” He must be more tired than he thought. He mentally counted and came up with three again. “No, three. You, me, Ad’ika. Three.”
She took his hand and pressed it against her belly. “Nope. Four.” She leaned into his ear and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”
Din was suddenly wide awake. “Wait .. what? You said you had an implant …” He sat up, which made Ad’ika squeak indignantly.
“A crappy implant that wasn’t designed for humans. I was probably the cheapest one out there, knowing Toran.” She sat up and took his face in her hands. “The district nurse droid paid a visit while you were gone. It found out there were offworld visitors and one of its directives is to check out any health threats to the local population, so it gave me and Ad’ika a check up.” She kissed his nose. “That implant probably stopped working about a year after it was placed.”
Din took a moment to absorb this new information, then he smiled and kissed his wife. The Way ahead was even clearer now.
************************
Mando’a words not explained in the text:
Di’kut = idiot, useless individual, waste of space
Manda = the state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit
Hair Dha Kad’au = my clumsy attempt to translate “the dark saber” into Mando’a
#the mandalorian#star wars#grogu#baby yoda#pedro pascal character fanfiction#din djarin#din djarin x original female character#din djarin fanfiction
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Leo Farina Sara Rafal Poe Tharja Alcryst Lucina Edward Knoll Ares Seliph Ewan Erk
WEEK ONE: The First Place You Ever Knew TASK DURATION: Until noon EST on Friday, January 5. From Jan. 5 - Jan. 7 : ████████ ███ TEAM TAG: #AOtau2024
Guided by a pastor of the church to a remote niche of the countryside blessedly untouched by the rampage of recent months, you prepare yourselves with one last breath, exchanging a final look with those around you — faces that will keep you afloat for the trial ahead. Those who have delved into dreams before know that their dangers are volatile and cannot be predicted. There is no telling what lies ahead, or whether you will come out of it the same person you go in. After all, in a continent where you cannot seem to die, death becomes the least frightening of possibilities.
Nevertheless, you're all here for a reason, aren't you? Each and every one of you. Dauntless warriors. Sceptered kings. Future leaders. Keystones of fate. Not one of you is the type to see a treacherous unknown and turn away. You are the brave few. The brave, happy few.
◜ Rock a bye baby, in a tree top, ◝ When the wind blows, the cradle will rock, When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, And down comes baby,
And down comes baby . . . ◟ Cradle and all. ◞
THE PARADISE PLAYROOM. ares, poe, rafal, ewan
what you know
you've woken up in an enclosed space with three others of the team you stepped through the tear with. none of the rest of the team seems to be anywhere nearby, with no indication of where they might be or whether they made it in | ref ref ref
the space is a suite of 3 connected rooms — one is a bedroom, with 3 beds equidistant along the far wall. one is empty except for a veritable mountain of decorated crates stacked halfway up to the several-dozen-meter-high ceiling in one corner. and the biggest is some kind of lounge or toy storage room; a messy half-stocked shelf spans the far wall in front of two large sofas
speaking of large, all the objects are larger than life. the boxes in the box room are almost as big as a person. the bed mattresses are at eye level and seem to be made for giants. and the sofas too require climbing to get up onto. the toy rocking horse is bigger than an actual horse
an individual sits on the chair in the toy storage room. you've gathered that her name is kleio, but any other questions or remarks are met with good-natured non-answers like one would give to a babbling child, reinforced with an imperative to clean your room. she doesn't seem to have interest in saying anything else until that's done, and emphasizes that you don't want this place to still be messy "when mother comes by later"
poe finds herself feeling incredibly unwell, and her condition will deteriorate rapidly. something may happen if poe uses magic . . .
what to do
move boxes! mother wants them arranged evenly and neatly against the walls, not piled high and haphazardly in one corner
— 1 box moved per post. each full rank in heavy armor grants an additional +1 box moved per post, half-ranks rounded down — for each box moved, roll a D4 ・ if 3, the box flips over atop carrier, trapping them inside. if wielding axe, carrier may free self. if wielding fire, carrier may free self, but self-inflicts 2 damage. otherwise, a teammate may choose to spend their next post to free them ・ if 4, ping rai — rolls 3 and 4 boxes only count toward total after any obstacles are overcome
put away your toys!
— roll D6 per post. mounted units may roll an additional D6 per post, and do not require an additional person / post to move a medium toy ・ 1-3 : small toy, worth 1 point each ・ 4-5 : medium toy, worth 3 points each. requires 2 people / posts to move. roll D2 ( if 2, medium toy escapes. DC11 to catch. use of rescue, light rune, bind, stun, subdue, etc. will autocatch. ping rai to make a case for other creative inventory ideas ) ・ 6 : large toy, worth 9 points each. requires whole team to move. if other teammates are in another thread, they can be considered " in the scene " for the post and any interaction may be hashed out in-channel. each muse must roll a D4. ( 1-3 : success. 4 : some part of large toy is damaged ). if all muses succeed, large toy awards 12 points instead
THE SIBYLLINE STUDIES. sara, leo, farina, tharja, edward
what you know
you've woken up in an enclosed space with four others of the team you stepped through the tear with. none of the rest of the team seems to be anywhere nearby, with no indication of where they might be or whether they made it in | ref ref ref ref
the space is truly sprawling — in fact, its dizzying to look at it all too long. shelves run straight into corners, doors open to walls, corridors end into a shelf. there are paths and open spaces to navigate more clearly, but good luck. the stacks also go monstrously high, and it looks like there might be at least 3 levels? anyone who can fly definitely has an easier time here
those with dark magic find themselves able to levitate
looking around, you've noticed several conspicuous gaps on certain shelves — conspicuous because they're leaking some sort of strange odorless miasma, each one a different color: pink, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, brown, black, and white
edward finds himself feeling incredibly unwell, and his condition will deteroriate rapidly. something may happen if edward uses magic
what to do
find the missing books! around the enormous study, there are books lying around or misplaced in other sections that bear matching colors to the miasma. return them to their proper places
— roll D15 per post. use the list below to determine what you find. units wielding dark magic gain 2 reroll chances — once 5 books have been found, the remaining books will take up 2 numbers each: its own and the closest available number — but wait! it looks like the books aren't quite so ordinary themselves. retrieving each one inflicts a status on the one who picks it up, lasting...? — books : ・ 1 : red book ( -1 str & mag ) ・ 2 : yellow book ( -1 def & res ) ・ 3 : blue book ( -2 dex ) ・ 4 : black book ( -2 speed ) ・ 5 : white book ( -2 avo ) ・ 6 - 10 : nothing ・ 11 : pink book ( +1 str & mag ) ・ 12 : orange book ( +1 def & res ) ・ 13 : green book ( +2 dex ) �� ・ 14 : violet book ( +2 speed ) ・ 15 : brown book ( +2 avo )
map the study!
— 1 section mapped per post. flying units and units wielding dark magic gain +1 section mapped per post — every 4 sections mapped, roll a D3 ・ 1 : ping rai ・ 2 : you find one of the missing books! roll D#Remainder to determine which one using the list above. best hand it over to whoever's looking for them ・ 3 : the library shifts. subtract 2 mapped sections
THE CAVERNOUS CELLARS. seliph, lucina, alcryst, erk, knoll
what you know
you've woken up in an enclosed space with four others of the team you stepped through the tear with. none of the rest of the team seems to be anywhere nearby, with no indication of where they might be or whether they made it in | ref ref
the space seems to defy logic, with walls and floors and structures sticking out at odd angles without pattern. if that and the giant, unpredictable gaps, bridges, and chasms didn't already make it difficult to navigate, it's very dark in most areas too. torch might work well here if you have it, or something similar perhaps?
next to where you first found yourselves, there's some sort of large, pale stacked casement with four compartments. it looks like it once held things. in fact, pinned to one of the edges are a few sheets of paper clipped together detailing an itinerary of four objects. there's a note written in big, bold lettering at the bottom of the top sheet: IF ANY ARE MISSING, RETRIEVE IMMEDIATELY. INTEGRITY OF HOUSE IS AT STAKE. MIND EACH περιέργεια'S INDIVIDUAL TEMPERAMENT. well.
on top of that, all your equipment seems to be missing. who knows where it could have landed in any part of this bizarre labyrinth
alcryst finds himself feeling incredibly unwell, and his condition will deteroriate rapidly. something may happen if alcryst uses magic
what to do
retrieve the missing περιέργεια! ( and maybe figure out a way to say that word amongst yourselves )
— roll D3 per post. if 3, encounter one uncaptured περιέργεια by chance. roll D#Remainder to determine which one. employing the appropriate " appearance condition " knowledge will cause the corresponding περιέργεια to appear without requiring a roll — roll D2 for each post without terrain resistance or a light source. if 2, lose 0.5HP — every 2 posts not spent attempting a capture, gain 1 knowledge. roll D9 to determine which of the information detailed below is gained — if attempting capture, roll D20. DC16 to capture. add +4 to roll for each relevant knowledge used or minded in-character during the attempt — each failed attempt subtracts -1 from the next capture roll attempted on that περιέργεια — please be mindful of metagaming and be aware of what you know vs. what your muse knows
περιέργεια information :
・ the teller's pig : a beautifully crafted, seemingly handpainted porcelain coin-holder often used by children to begin learning finances, shaped like a pig. a small paper is fastened to one of its legs like a price tag, reading - 7432 ・ will appear when called by name, though still needs to be caught ・ flees from sources of light ・ instructed way to catch it is to put exactly 7432's worth of coin inside it
・ kaleidescopia : a spool of neverending thread in impossible shades ・ will appear when there is an "eye of the needle" for it to thread itself through. anything in the shape of a closed circle. alternatively, tends to linger in doorways for the same reason ・ flees from sword/lance/axe wielders ・ instructed way to catch it is to present it with a color it can never possess
・ infinity-way mirror: a gothic-style wall mirror that doesn't reflect, but rather depicts what is on the other side of the wall it's hung on ・ appears in rooms with exactly six corners, no more or less, and one entryway ・ flees when anything moves directly in front of its glass ・ instructed way to catch it is to position another living being on the other side of the wall its hung on so that it depicts them, then shatter the glass. the depicted individual may suffer, however...
recover your team's missing equipment!
— roll D14 per post. use the list below to determine what you recover — if tyrfing or exalted falchion are found, ping rai before proceeding — roll D2 for each post without terrain resistance or a light source. if 2, lose 0.5HP — any recovered equipment may be used as long as the holder possesses the required skill rank, except personal weapons — equipment : ・ 1 : tyrfing ( hexblade ) ・ 2 : speed ring ・ 3 : exalted falchion ( aether ) ・ 4 : speed ring ・ 5 : prayer ring ・ 6 : killer bow ( heavy draw ) ・ 7 : nevermeltice ・ 8 : fire ・ 9 : bolganone ・ 10 : heal ・ 11 : unreason ・ 12 : banshee ・ 13 : bohr ・ 14 : miasma
IMPORTANT PLAYER NOTES. Please read!
As listed at the top, you will have until noon EST on Friday to thread your assigned tasks, at which point something will occur . . .
If a thread is dedicated to a task, please note this in the title post of the thread.
Aside from the weekend here, Apollyon Ouranos will mostly be driven by the players unless otherwise stated. You will have tasks to complete throughout the week, with the final degree of success determined by the post-based mechanics detailed above. However, you are not limited in the content of your post. Ex. " 1 box moved per post " is simply a metric for the mechanic, and does not mean you have to literally write your muse moving a box over and over, unless you want to. Creativity in the interpretation of roll results is likewise welcome.
Reaching 0 HP this week does not result in death, and should instead be treated as a knock-out or getting too injured to keep fighting. If there are any enemies encountered, they are ( probably ) not trying to kill you. It can still definitely be treated as serious, but should not be assumed to mean death.
Team Tau's Google Doc is linked here, and pinned in your team channel. Due to the nature of this event, logging and recording your thread's events and results is mandatory, much like combat docs during Arena. Each thread should have at least one person willing to do this, and this will be checked at the end of each week. It is similarly highly encouraged to keep abreast of what is going on with others in the team as well in order to get the fullest picture of the event story.
Though there is currently no time limit rule, keep in mind that this is an event where mechanical progression directly correlates with activity. Shorter posts are encouraged to maintain momentum. Members are encouraged to shift post order, skip, etc. amongst themselves to their good judgment. If needed, Mod Rai reserves the right to make sure threads are moving at a reasonable pace.
Perhaps most importantly, aim for activity and building meaningful interactions over winning your objective. Even if your team does poorly ic at their objective, as long as you played according to your character and were engaged in what was happening, that's all that matters. Certain story events may change depending on ic results, and your characters' choices and actions will influence things even if it may not be immediately obvious. But ic failure will still progress the story, and possibly in a more compelling way than a success. Try to avoid focusing on " playing the game right ".
If you have any questions or are uncertain how to proceed at any point, ping Mod Rai.
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OKAY explaining more on the choices i made :3~~~~~~~ Aphmau:
flower crown from Garroth(gets gifted a new one before the other wilt)
has heavier Indigenous Mexican features i.e. broader face, prominent cheekbones, almond eyes, wider nose, full lip
𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
on the sturdy and short side
her outfits at first are very simple common wears, but after cadenza moves into phoenix drop her closet consists mostly of empire waists and poofy dresses. SHAWLS
Kawaii~Chan
her fur is everywhere except her face and hands, kinda like izutsumi from dungeon meshi
devon aoki inspired, so wide face, caramel tone, small full lips, smaller nose, and a bit flat faced.
permed hair, i love the idea of her diy-ing her hair
wide eyes and her eyebrows are hidden by her bangs
shorter than aph, and more chubby as well
wears common wear with frilly aprons. she has a collection
Katelyn
long hair, has silver hairs growing in already, eye bags galore
long triangle shaped faced, larger hero nose, pinkish tone, falconed eyed and tight small lips
muscular on her arms and top heavy, shes working on her quads atm. TALL
i wanted to say rhea rippley but one i found that suited her build better was early monica granda
her prized armor
Cadenza
i wanted to give her red feathers to match her chicken transformation but i settled on cream colored...maybe she has red feathers else where like her arms?
meteli always felt more Italian inspired, so she has an Italian tan, medium-long lips(she likes reddish tints on her lips), sun bleached hair(its supposed to be more orange), and a long face with smooth cheeks and a pointier chin
she has a more pointer nose
average height with a lean rectangle body
i think she looks a lot like Laurance so its hard to tell that they're not bio siblings.
later on after the time skip she starts covering her feathers as the people of meteli grow less sure of her as a lord if she has any "flaws"
SHE HAS A NEW FIT EVERY DAY!! so if i can draw her in anything!
HEADPIECES SNOODS VEILS
Nicole
very pale after living underground for a while....looks a little malnourished at first
wanted her to have more of a molly ringwalled face, erm but i didn't get that across very well; so lets just say her face is well-defined,oval eyes, and has a dainty nose.
thicker brows, pointier lips, longer lashes, and rounded brows
wears poofy shorts because she can!! whos gonna care if shes showing her legs!!
muscular but over all still lean and taller than most.
Lucinda
I LOVE HOW SHE CAME OUT OMG BECAUSE I'VE NEVER BEEN HAPPY WITH HOW I'VE DRAWN LUCINDA OVER THE YEARS AND IT FINALLY CLICKED
3b-3a hair i know i still can improve on her hair design, I'm not very knowledgable on it but i want it to look like she takes well care of it and its healthy and shiny
i want to draw her in more hairstyles
fuller figure and tall- i want her to be luxurious in dress so she does wear heels!
has more of the sleepy eyed look because that's the only eyes I've ever imagined for her
small wide nose, chubbier cheeks, pointy top lip
she wears what she can make living off of the village, but once shes in phoenix drop her closet is still sleek and dark!
IK I MISSED SO MANY theres still donna, zoey, michi, emmalyn, hyria, ivy, zianna SO I MIGHT DO THOSE SOON >.<
i love dressing and drawing women
i really wanted to focus on making sure i got their facial structures and tones right. i might add another post later explaining their features!! I LOVE DRAWING WOMEN I LOVE IT SO MUCH
i spent so long drawing men HIDING MY TRUE PASSION !!!
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my dnd character
Character Idea
Scourge (Chaotic Good)
Black Dragonborn College of Valour Bard Level 3/Level 2 Wild Magic Sorcerer
HP: 32
Weapons: 2 Scimitars (d6), 2 Shortswords (d6), 2 Daggers (d4) (+8 to hit)
Armour: Breastplate
Stats: 20 Str (+5), 16 Dex (+3), 12 Con (+1), 12 Int(+1), 10 Wis (+0), 16 Cha (+3)
AC: 16
Urchin Background
Spellcasting
Ability: Cha, Spell Save DC: 13, Spell Attack Modifier +6
Bard Cantrips: Vicious Mockery, Prestigitation
1st Level (4 Slots): Cure Wounds, Healing Word, Disguise Self
2nd Level (2 Slots): Invisibility, Knock, Shatter
Sorcerer Cantrips: Ray of Frost, Fire Bolt, Shocking Grasp, Minor Illusion
Sorcerer 1st Level (3 Slots): Sleep, Charm Person, Expeditious Retreat
Proficiencies (+3)
Skills: Sleight of Hand, Stealth, Intimidation, Perception, Survival, Persuasion, Deception
Equipment: Light and Medium Armor, Simple and Martial Weapons, Shields
Tools: Disguise Kit, Thieves’ Tools, Flute, Reed Pipes, Shawm
Languages: Draconic, Common
Saving Throws: Dex, Cha
Features
Bardic Inspiration (d6, 3 Charges)
Jack of all Trades (+1)
Song of Rest (d6)
Expertise (Sleight of Hand, Stealth)
Combat Inspiration (d6)
Wild Magic Surge
Tides of Chaos
Flexible Casting (2 Sorcery Points available)
City Secrets
Acid Breath
Acid Damage Resistance
Items
Component Pouch
Map of Baldur’s Gate
Common Clothes
Age: 19, Height: 6’3”
Appearance
She has a tall and muscular frame, with a long tail that is significantly taller than her when fully extended. Her scales are black, but fade to a dark blue around the tips of her horns. Her horns curl around from the back of her head before sharpening to a point at either side of her mouth, as well as smaller spikes adorning the top of her head like a crown. At her chin, there are three spikes, two short ones with a taller one in the middle. On her right arm, a spiked ridge travels down and splits into three, going along her pointer, ring, and middle fingers, sharing the same coloration as her horns. On her left arm, a similar pattern appears, though far less pronounced. She wears a cloak dyed a similar colour to her scales, and breastplate with the right sleeve cut off and a cut over the ridge on her other arm. The plate on her armour is painted black, but evidently not recently as the paint is dull and chipped over her heart, revealing the dull gray of steel. Her tail has a dagger tied to the tip for combat, though it hasn’t been used in a while. Her eyes are dark blue, similar to her horns.
Backstory
She never learned her given name, since her parents were exiles who died shortly after she was born, putting her on the street where she had to learn to take care of herself, still keeping a strong sense of independence now after fourteen years. She joined and underground fight club around twelve years old, where she quickly rose to the top (though not exactly by fighting cleanly) and made enough money there to get the equipment to join a mercenary group at sixteen, when an odd ridge appeared on her arm. A couple months later, she realized that she could harness the Weave to cast spells using it to focus her power, though not everything would go to plan. After realizing the power that she had now, she began to study music and integrate it with her magic, disguising herself and opening locks with ease, but also being able to patch up wounds with minimal effort. Her first instrument was a set of simple pipes, but she has since crafted a flute that is now one of her most treasured possessions. As she used magic more, the ridge grew, and eventually formed on her other arm, though not as tall. Now, she will always do her best to help out others in a similar situation to her younger self, giving them enough gold for a few good meals and a night with a roof over their head. If she doesn’t have the gold, she’ll try to convince one of the more generous party members to donate a few gold pieces to her new friend. If that fails, she’ll take the urchin to an inn and do her best to convince the innkeeper to donate a free meal or just try to pickpocket someone nearby for the coin.
You can do any thing with this character, no credit is required but is appreciated
#d&d#d&d character#dnd character#dnd oc#dnd5e#dungeons and dungeons#dungeons and dragons#bard#sorcerer#dnd sorcerer#dnd bard
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Charcherry Weekly - Issue 164
Hello, Mage of Light Nick Card here. Its the last official week of summer and it feels like its definitely making way for the autumn weather. I think my deerling is getting ready to change formes too.
Shortly after completing last week's newsletter, it was revealed that a piece of spyware was installed upon your dear newsletter writer's computer. However, it has apparently disappeared after my buggy porygon got close to it, despite personal protection efforts involving a well-placed frying pan.
In tangentially related news, Netnavi Enker has agreed to go to therapy soon.
Expert pokemon trainer Brae Emit has reportedly completed the Kitakami pokedex, after only five days of visiting the location. She has mentioned that she had gotten incredibly far on the Paldean pokedex beforehand, which is what made such a swift sweep possible. She has since returned home to tend to domestic affairs.
Page of Mind Samm has been quite busy this week, having focused much of her efforts on Grass 3. Apparently she is planning where to put an ocean with a hired crew. She has also called upon her alternate Red to shape the land with her aggression. To top things off, Samm visited the live chickens stand and bought 22 chickens, after Heir of Time Rise Emit had purchased six earlier the same day. This managed to clear out all stock from the stand. At this point, she is now running her noodles stand between trips back and forth to Grass 3.
This week’s known market stands in Desertia Town:
Katie’s potion stand (Might not be open due to concerns from the Plit-based food and drug administration)
shinyjiggly pokesnacks stand (ran by Rufus)
Samm's noodle stand
Magic Shop stand:
Component Pouch (25 gp/10 credits)
Rod (10 gp/15 credits)
Lute (35 gp/35 credits)
Parchment (5 sheets) (5 sp/1 credit)
Vial (1 gp/1 credit)
Yew Wand (10 gp/15 credits)
Abacus (2 gp/5 credits)
Quarterstaff (2 sp/4 credits)
Blacksmith's stand:
Medium Armor Scale Mail (50 gp/100 credits)
Spear (1 gp/15 credits)
Shield (10 gp/20 credits)
Medium Armor Hide (10 gp/20 credits)
I think that covers things this week. I wound up sleeping a lot during writing tonight since I was so tired from working with mech-vee Little Beepo and working on the flash animation. Seeya next week! https://letssosl.boards.net/thread/398/charcherry-weekly-issue-164
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*cracks knuckles*
okay, so there would definitely be all kinds of discussions about whether or not the statues are even Mandalorian. Because here's the thing. The Jedi see a bunch of men in armor and recognize one (1) Mandalorian symbol and go "yeah that's probably a Mandalorian" without putting too much more thought into at. They are so confident in their assessment that they probably wouldn't even prioritize getting a Mandalorian historian in there right away. At most they probably send some captures of the symbols close up and center frame to a historian whose like "Yeah at least three of these are Mandalorian, i have no idea whats going on with the rest of it though."
The Jedi would likely be more interested in what in the galaxy the statues are doing in the veritable basement of a sith temple. Because??? what the hell were the sith doing with a bunch of statues of soldier? There are some off the bat theories that they were going to be some kind of golem esc force experiment where they would have tried to bring them to life to fight the jedi. WHICH throws the all kinds of dark implications at "The General's" existence. Was she supposed to be a sith? or maybe she was an innocent sacrificed in some kind of soul transfer ritual that didn't go well? She certainly looks and feels different from the other statues.
This theory would be thrown out the window pretty quickly because who would spend all the time to carve this many statues without actually confirming the whole bringing them to life bit would actually work. And there's never even been a rumor of undead stone sith warriors. That kind of story would have survived in some way, even unsubstantiated. Also why would they be mandalorian? and led by a teen? there's too many holes.
It does lead to another splinter theory that it was actually a night sister ritual that went wrong, based solely off of bad vibez and the circular room/arrangement of the statues.
More importantly how did they even get the statues down this far into the temple. There are sooo many stairs between here and even the former top floor. were they carved down here? Or sculpted? (did they have a kiln down here?) The general appears to be made from a clay fired stone. perhaps they are as well. Just a pale white clay they've never seen before.
All insidious sith conspiracies aside, why would anyone make so many statues? That's a lot of labor for what? most statues are made as icons. Either for worship as symbols of a moral higher standard or as remembrance of the lost (Or a combination of both). What was the intention of the creators? This is where all the theories surrounding the configuration come in. Are the soldiers threatening (no) Is the jedi in danger (no) is there some implication of action setting the scene (no). As far as they can tell they all appear to be in a position of rest. Which is most congruent with the idea of remembrance of the lost. Soldiers finally left to rest.
The soldiers themselves are also extremely uniform. Not only in their almost identical armor but also in their proportions. Like surely they had to be made by molds or something. And yet everything else about them seems to be fighting this very deliberate choice. Their armor has been gratified over in a nonsensical mess of designs. If it wasn't for the foreboding feeling clearly deterring anyone from touching them, they'd think they were defiled long after their initial creation. Some of the markings are as random as lone words in Aurabesh. Some are in Mando'a. There is an abundance of triangles and arrows. designs resembling animals or weapons. A few celestial bodies. Some that must be more complex cultural symbols. Almost all in a flat medium blue. And what is the significance of that color? The mandos have color codes. The Jedi do as well. What is the significance of white blue and orange?
Eventually they must call in a Mandalorian historian. The Jedi are rarely ever on decent terms with the mandos. Coincidentally the construction of the temple finished only a couple of decades before Tarre joined the order however. After having left the jedi and returned to rule Mandalore he was still on good terms with the temple (more or less) and I don't see why they wouldn't ask him to send someone.
The first historian, yes first lord knows the statues were studied more than once through the centuries, was absolutely baffled. Firstly by the horrid construction of the armor. He spent less than a day studying the statues before he declared loudly, and with much conviction, that there was no way Mandalorian armor would be constructed so poorly. It was bulky, cumbersome, and lacking any classic design. The helmets while very similar to Mandalorian design were oblong and warped with bulky round respirators. And while he did admit that there were a small handful of Mandalorian symbols he declared that they were bastardized. The soldiers were not Mandalorian.
At that was the accepted conclusion.....for some time.
The Mandalorians in all of their confrontational history were never on good terms with the Jedi for long. And after a certain infamous incident that included trespassing and multiple murders, they were barred from approaching the temple. Discontent was never quiet for long and despite the former assessment they railed that the soldier in the basement were just more of their property stolen by the Jedi. After many many years of arguments and accusations thrown at them the Jedi finally agreed to have an accurate and detailed scan of the chamber made so that more modern Mandalorian scholars could study the statues without needing to enter the temple.
That was when the general populous finally got a look at them. And they were just as stumped. Their chestplates were large, crude in design, and lacking of any of the shape of a Beskargram. And yet the visors...they were familiar. Some claimed they were such ancient Mandos that their armor designs had been lost to history, other argued that they looked cheap and mass manufactured. Like some private security forces of the richer planets. They looked to the temple guard and the Naboo guard for comparisons. And there were similarities here too. Signs of machine manufacturing instead of hand crafting. And the symbols...they were bizarre. Funny in some cases. Some were disparaging phrases insulting the enemy or the food or war it's self. Any young solider that had seen war felt a kinship with these. "When you are young and all you know is war, you cover yourself in it." one Mando famously said.
There was a hard divide about the legitimacy. All Authority in the academic sphere decided that their findings were inconclusive. Some politicians still wanted the statues returned to Mandalore. The young of Mandalore adopted their stone brethren. They copied their odd symbols on their own armor. Writing phrases over the ear of their own helmets. Or the sides of their vambraces. Their clan symbols mingled with deep blue pinstriping. And blue stripes over their visors became a symbol of rebellion, of unity amongst the youth, of the death of innocence in war. Eventually the blue became synonymous with war. Specifically blue over white. The color of purity slowly marked over with reliability. A slow hammering of experience replacing youth. of responsibility replacing freedom. A blue tally on a helmet or shoulder, a battle fought in. A blue diamond, a war fought and ended.
It was a surface level adoption of the markings though. Only a few truly became popular and fewer still survived as time passed. The more obscure and indecipherable faded to pictures in the archive. And while blue was earned in battle, there was another symbol entirely that baffled them.
The orange. At first none had an interest in the Togruta girls markings. The troops that marked themselves after her were establishing their place as her clan. It was not uncommon in the near human Mandalorians. But then there were force sensitives born among the Mandalorians. None as strong as Tarre had been. And none properly trained...but they were a distinct subset. Force sensitive Mandalorians were a commodity, a pride to their clans. They were exceptionalism in a culture that prided it's self in exceptionalism. They marked themselves not after her exactly. But with a diamond in the center of their foreheads. It was a symbol of a sense, a sight, outside of the ordinary. Most had skills as innocuous as uncanny aim, a sense for danger, exceptional tracking skills, a preternatural awareness of those around them, or an above average ability to read others. Without formal Jedi training to teach them even the basics like push and pull a force sensitive mando is very different than a force sensitive Jedi. And without testing it's less a concrete processes of identifying who is gifted and who is skilled. It becomes something earn able through deeds. Sure curving a bolt away from yourself is pretty concrete evidence but sometimes simply doing the "impossible" can earn yourself the symbol.
Earnable markings across the brow of the helmet grow in popularity as the diamond survives through several generations. Symbols for certain skills emerge. Medics ears iron heart across their brows. Armorers have three columns representing the hammer and the tongs. Gunners develop a complex symbol of triangles arranged in it's own language communicating a person's skill and with what kind of blaster, and what their most impressive accomplishments have been. Clan symbols are born, evolve, and die with these other symbols. Animals are a common theme. Great horned beasts grow in popularity and snarling fangs start to appear. Longer range rifles are developed and with them birds rise in popularity. Shriek hawks become the symbol of a noble house Their eyes perched just above the visor. Wide and round and grey like the bird's eyes. It's seen as an inflammatory choice as they do not universally boast crack shot members. A group comes out with an opposing them politically. They make a show of earning their shriek hawk eyes. Each and every soldier rigorous marksman training their elite force earned their second pair of eyes. Instead of being painted by a noble artisan, they were free handed by their clan leaders. Painted with one brush and once color. Angular and simple in their triangular design. Sharp eyes.
The mandalorians were too absorbed with their own internal issues to turn more than a cursory eye to the jedi for some time. Long enough for many changes in their social structure to happen. Long enough for a man named Jaig, the best sharp shot in Mandalorian lore, and a rumored force sensitive, to fight and lose a war. To be struck down on Mimbam and for his helmet to be brought bad to his clan. Held aloft by their enemies. His second eyes spotted with blood, unblinking and immortal in some way. And so Jaig's eyes become tradition, become Jaig eyes. Become iconic.
And now...well someone has to come across the old files, the scans of the chamber in the bottom of the Jedi temple, the one only one single Mandalorian has ever stepped foot into. And they notice something. The highest ranking soldier, the one with the only set of unique armor, the one kneeled across from the Jedi, has wide open eyes, immortal and unblinking, staring at her. Jaig eyes.
But how is this possible? Jaig eyes have only existed for just shy of a hundred years. Tarre himself saw the statues and yet there on this man's brow is a symbol that wouldn't have existed for hundreds of years.
There's a sudden surge in awareness of the statues once more. The Mandalorians demand another opportunity to study them. More than that they demand a more thorough explanation of their history from the Jedi, who can offer them little more than a shrug. "The statues have lived in this temple for longer than we have. Longer than our memory. Their origin is a mystery to us."
Many Jedi latch onto the idea that the maker of the statues could see into the future, that maybe they'd had visions of the future so intense that they were driven to near madness, influenced to create the statues to bring life to who they saw in their mind. Hundreds of versions of the same man....and one Jedi. Perhaps they endeavored to build them as a walkable diorama, of some event they'd seen too many times. Some moment in time so concrete it must literally be made into stone. Some intrical moment now an axis of fate. A fulcrum by which destiny balanced.
The Mandalorians were not passified with theories and talk of visions of the future. There were statues clearly related to them and their history in possession of the Jedi. Barred from them. This would not stand. They appealed (threatened) to the senate. They became even less friendly with jedi loose in the galaxy. After mounting pressure the Council allows one small team, no more than two members to inspect the statues, under full temple guard.
It's a tense affair. The temple guard line the walls of the room. The two mando's An art expert and an armorer inspect the statues. They take more modern, high definition captures of each and every statue, and this time, of the jedi as well. Their inspection is thorough. The archivists that accompany them appear more unsettled each day and when finally snapped at by one of the mados they admit "it feels more stale in here every day, like the air is growing stiller, thinner." The mandos are not impressed by the jedi's bad feelings. But at the end of their examinations their finding remain more or less the same as before. "There is no reasonal explanation for the existence of these statues. They should not exist. *with sarcasm* Maybe with time more of these symbols will develop and the Jedi will be proved correct in their theory."
There is much debate as to whether the symbols on the soldiers have truly predicted the future of it was the other way around. That their existance within the subconscious of the mandalorians influenced the symbol they use in modern times. There is no way to tell how old the statues are entirely. Perhaps they've been found before, known of before, and all their symbols influenced the mandalorians in some way.
The Jedi are really more concerned with the Jedi anyways. The girl in the midst of the soldiers. Every aspect of her has been studied by those with a strong enough stomach to get close. There was an incident on Shili, two hundred years ago. A war between the natives and the mining guild. There was a lot of cultural superstitions that came from it. One Togruta Jedi made the trek down. He examined the girl with a hand held tight to his mouth to hold the nausea in. "She cannot simply be a youngling." he was adamant. "She is a warrior. A child soldier. Only in the bleakest times has Shili allowed it's youth to become this. Only when their hope is only to survive." He elaborates with a breakdown of her body. There are physical markers of war on her. The short head tails, the broken stripes, the over muscled arms. The scars. The tilted montrals.
By every indicator this is an omen of war. From the most obvious symbol of a battalion of soldier sleeping beneath their feet, to the symbols across their brows, to the lines of muscles under terracotta skin. It was all indicative of one thing. Where they in the before? the after? some nebulous time in between?
There were so many questions and almost no answers.
Just this feeling suspended in the air, like they were being pressed on. compressed by the collision of two great forces. But so so slowly. Like a Chalhuddan unaware he's being boiled.
Thought- in the terracotta warriors thing, you mentioned that the Jedi archeologists brought in a specialist in mando iconography to try and work out what’s going on with the 501sts symbols- what if that outside specialist is jaster mereel? Could be pre becoming the mand’alor, could be just his side job, but either way he spends a few years studying it all and getting used to being the only mando in a base camp full of Jedi, makes friends, has academic discussions and disagreements, steals someone’s holopad to try and use the link to the Jedi archives to read all the things on tarre visla, gets into an actual argument, reconciles with agreeing to help with a historical reenactment of a Jedi mandolorian war, gets Madame nu’s comm number, introduces his new son to his comm bff who argues historical nitpicks with him, brings jango to the next summer at the site, clones react to jango somehow and/or there’s a few tubies in there who look distractingly like jango and/or someone has their helmet off and jango has a breakdown over it looking like a family member? And so on and so on
Context: Sleeping Soldiers AU
See, I don't really subscribe to the "halfway to archaeologist!Jaster" fanon. I'm especially reticent to engage with the Jocasta ship, honestly.
But... okay, here's the thing. It does feel pretty incongruous with how I've written Jaster thus far. I can believe him having like. A 'classical' education. Not actually tutored like a noble, but that he sought out the same subjects as an adult to make sure he understood how to rule once he started having a proper political angle. He's a history nerd in the way that a particularly political/philosophical aristocrat of the 18th century would have been.
Military history, philosophical history, political and even some arts... but not actually in an archaeological sense.
(Also, it raises my hackles because it's one of those things that feels like it's heavily associated with the whole "True Mandos Were Best Mandos" crowd.)
It also really depends on the era! Tarre makes more sense than Jaster, just because of the timescale! The soldiers are millennia buried by the time Jaster is born! That said, even Tarre is a few millennia late but... makes more sense than Jaster.
Most likely, there are historians and archaeologists coming by every few centuries, as new generations encounter the issue, and older analyses are lost in the depths of the archives. Frequency tapers off after a few millennia, but... by the time Jaster is around?
It's 100% a New Mandalorian with an art history doctorate. (With a military symbolism specialty, in this case.)
It's probably not a New Mando if it's an Early On moment, but it probably is a New Mando if the Jedi start getting Weird Vibes and investigating the soldiers in the decades leading up to the Prequels.
Would the New Mandalorians know more than the traditionalists? Not necessarily. Would they know less? Actually, no.
I firmly believe that the New Mandalorians are taught about their histories in a "German kids learn about WWII atrocities, going on field trips to historic sites of said horrors, so their teachers can stress that they don't repeat the mistakes of the past" kind of way. I imagine the New Mandos would have plenty of research and records in regards to actual history, with plenty of museums and such. Part of maintaining pacifism is ensuring that the coming generations understand what led them to pacifism in the first place.
Is this thousands of years in the past, and thus difficult to research? Yes, but the traditionalists would have that same problem.
More of them, even. If the New Mandos have been around for seven hundred years, like Legends claims, then the traditionalists have probably have lost a lot of history through various battles and bombings, while the New Mandalorians, while not entirely escaping large scale destruction and such attacks, are much more likely to have protected and maintained their sites, simply by not courting war as a matter of culture. The traditionalists, meanwhile, would have had a much stronger emotional and cultural attachment to legends and themes, though I'll admit those are probably prone to revisionism, much like real-world folklore and mythology.
As @atagotiak put it:
Ehhhh. The traditionalists do care about legends and history and stuff. Often in an idealized way, sure. But you could argue that they’d have more reason than new mandos to be into these stories. Which, to be clear, isn’t like, saying that Jaster is definitely a part-time historian or anything like that. It’s just I don’t think one side would have an advantage over another. (edited)
So the New Mandos and Trad Mandos are probably on an even playing ground, insofar as skill and resources and knowledge go.
But by Jaster's time, the Jedi would have more reason to think the New Mandos would cooperate. No real downside to asking them when it comes to knowledge/skill, and an upside in terms of 'not getting shot when asking.'
As Tia said:
And even if we assume Jaster is a big history nerd and would be receptive to the Jedi (and tbh there’s even less indication of the latter) there’s no reason to think the Jedi would know that.
So yeah, when the soldiers start having Vibes And The Force Becomes Suspiciously Active on that level... New Mando archaeologist, definitely.
#star wars#clone wars#sw tcw#ahsoka tano#tcw#fanfic#501st#captain rex#Ahsoka Tano#The jedi#Mandalorians#mandalore#clan kryze#tarre vizsla#*screaming*#i have spent literal hours writing this non stop#I think this is longer than my contribution to the original post#god i want to take a hammer to the mando/jedi conflict#the way that i will write history if given the chance#let me make more lore#its all i want in life#I know this is sooo long#I'm sorry#but i was overcome with the spirit of muse himself#and he sounded aweful armorer esc#agahgah#i've written more of this than i have in my wip for the last week#i have no self control
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Who the **** Is Legendary Vermin?
Greetings internet wanderer! You can call me Vermin/Elvie and I'm a game designer, actual play streamer, and ttrpg cretin lurking around twitter, twitch, youtube and now tumblr!
I have work on itch.io that has everything from medium weight tactical RPGs, to lyric games, to goofy erotic larps. Most stuff is either free or pay what you can, and anything that has a set price point also has a barrel of Community Copies that refill whenever someone buys the game outright. https://legendary-vermin.itch.io/
I'm also an AP streamer who shows up predominantly on Neon Lights Roleplay! I've been in everything from high-fantasy games, to Resident Evil style horror games, and you can find VODs of my work here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLUYBnjyXT3Cp4KTnM1gqrVI4S9-k1FUhL A couple of highlights:
Games Stuff
Alley-Oop!
Alley-Oop! is a game I wrote with my wife in 2019 that is based on the WNBA's trip into the Wubble, a recreation center that was closed to the public, allowing the players to play in relative safety in spite of the dangerous early days of the pandemic. It was also inspired by the rise of Blaseball and Marbula One, and the idea that we as humans are really good at taking totally random noise and creating exciting stories by giving otherwise meaningless objects their own personalities.
As such, the game isn't about simulating basketball as much as it is about commentating it, and then deciding who these players are based on how the dice fall. Oh, and those dice? They are your players! Yeah! The pink d4 is Ollie Orion, and she's in the running for rookie of the year! But it's been hard for her to concentrate because she recently had a break up with that orange d10 on the other team. Maybe after this round of basketball, you and your friends will RP a scene between the two of them, where they have to shoot a commercial together. Maybe their love will be reignited?????
Alley-Oop! is also one of only a couple of games I wrote that got a print run, and the book is Gorgeous!!
Æthernet
Far and away one of my most popular games, Æthernet asks the question "What if, in the far future when humanity travels the stars and the internet is immersive VR, someone accidentally opened a rift to another dimension in the internet, and turned the internet into a literal digital hellscape?" and follows that question up with "What if we had to do dungeon crawls there as part of the gig economy?" Inspired by Doom (duh) and dozens of stories about the intersection of Magic and Technology, Æthernet is a small version of a game I want to make Very Large one day.
No Amount Of Armor: Ashcan Edition
I will probably talk about this game a ton here, but No Amount of Armor is my diet-tactics story-driven mecha RPG that takes you to the razor's edge of warfare. Mechanically, it sits between heavy tactical games like Lancer and fully story driven games like Firebrands, giving players the tools to embody characters that feel like they have a stake in the world, and build mechs that feel like they can throw a punch to level a building.
Right now, this game is still in development, and you are invited to give feedback and help shape the game's final form!
Actual Play Highlights
You can watch any of the shows I've been in on the youtube playlist above, but here are some finished Series that are digestible and fun!
Resident Evil: Catalyst
A game of The Company made for The Top Shelf in three parts! It follows a group of engineers, scientists and soldiers in the wake of an early break out of a combination of a G-Virus and Las Plagas. It ends in tragedy in one of the highest stakes conversations I've ever had the pleasure to participate in in TRPG.
Under Twilit Skies
Under Twilit Skies came together as a charity stream, and became so much more than that. At its core is the very real pain of living under state violence, and the need to fight back.
5 talented pilots fight against the empire that colonized, brutalized, killed and created them. 4 episodes of high octane, high drama mecha action in Armour Astir: Advent.
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Destiny 2: Symbiosis
(For @xivu-arath and featuring their Omen-5. These two are a fascinating match and I wouldn't mind writing a longer story with them one day.)
They had met another time, Kass and Omen, but that was before the Throne World, before the excess of life that colonized Kass’ eye and cheek. Kass hadn’t expected to see Omen’s familiar face again in the courtyard of the Siblings of the Holy Orb, during the time of Rasputin’s slow revival.
Curtains thin enough to see through hung from the columns around the temple. A shallow pool glittered blue in the sunny, open courtyard.
Kass was returning a book. The Siblings had been a partner group to the temple where she had taken her sabbatical. The librarians knew each other. They had known, therefore, when the Siblings unearthed from an older, lost sect a book about Light corruption.
Light corruption had been a theory when this book was written. Light-as-cancer, Traveler-as-tumor. It wasn’t how Kass wanted to think about the golden eye sunken into her socket, the pinpricks of seed-stuff she felt around it sometimes like the spokes of a wheel or the legs of a spider. Eris had magicked those back under her skin, but Kass could feel them.
Omen looked like xe needed help.
Xe had paused at the bottom of the wide, low steps to scratch at xyr own arm. Claws shaved off the top layer of Tree bark sculpted like a shoulder. It met Exo metal somewhere under xyr short-sleeved tunic.
As she moved to greet Omen, Kass put on the posture of the Young Wolf like a cape. She’d done enough parades that she could turn it on, now; the set of shoulders just so, the set of graceful hands. Only the fact that she was wearing flowing robes instead of armor and the eye itself couldn’t be changed. Ready this way, she swept down the stairs.
“Omen?” She said softly.
Xe stopped trimming bark immediately. “Ikora told me I might find you here. She told me …” Xyr hesitation seemed intentional, not for dramatic effect but as if xe were listening to a signal from far away. “You’d have a book.”
“It might not help.” Kass’ eye ached. Sympathetic phantom. How inconvenient. “I didn’t find anything. The theory, though …”
“What about the theory?”
Kass fumbled. Xe was very direct. But many Warlocks were. “I found it interesting.” She handed the book out, but xe didn’t take it.
Omen met her eyes. “Thank you. Ikora knows it is hard for me to stay in the City for long, but she thought this meeting was important. I think it is.”
Kass looked up. Diaphanous curtains swept across the horizon of the Traveler. “Can you not stay because of the Light?”
Omen nodded, so xyr answer surprised Kass. “No. The City itself … isn’t right for me. Does the Traveler change how your Tree feels?”
This question, too, struck Kass as direct. It was pleasant, though. Some people did not want to speak to her as if anything had changed. She had started to want a happy medium between their silence and Eris’ intimate tending. Your tree, xe had said. She didn’t always think of it as hers, yet the words felt right.
“I am glad you asked.” Kass gave a parade smile. It felt uncomfortable.
Her Ghost drifted along to a polite distance to talk to Omen’s, and Kass used the moment xyr eyes flicked to the Ghosts to relax her expression.
“The Light makes my eye … brittle,” Kass said. “Or erupting. I don’t know what to call it. It broke open not long ago. Bled sap.”
Omen nodded as if this was both normal and interesting. “One of the hyacinthoides — it’s a whole family of plants, very loose classification of plants — on Nessus softened the bark a little. Made it more comfortable. But I haven’t studied it long.”
“It’s worth a try.”
“If I can find more, I’ll let you know,” xe said.
“Trade?” Kass asked.
Xe reached out for the book, and Kass gave it. Leather binding whispered against metal fingers. We should be better friends, she found herself thinking, except for the physical distance between them. Kass’ position made her unusually sedentary for a Hidden when not throwing herself against the solar system’s worst enemies. Omen, as far as she knew, wandered more. There were as many similarities as differences, though; she suspected but did not know for certain that they viewed romance and attraction with similar baffled indifference.
The conversation had been so easy. A simple trade. No complicated pity. That was worth a lot.
They talked some more and the feeling of ease stayed. The smile she left Omen with wasn’t the one people saw at the parades. It was softer, crinkled the skin around her good eye more. She felt the spokes under her skin move with it.
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