#she will be at full hp and covered in blood when everyone else is clean idk how the game knows but. it knows

[bratspike]

do you have any screenshots of caolinn? asking for a friend

omgggg yeah! these are terrible quality bc i was taking pictures of my tv screen i need to figure out how to download my ps5 screenshots

there’s my psychopathic hag eye girl she hates everyone except astarion and is begrudgingly fond of laezel and jaheira

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 5

Can you say ~trauma~?

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 5: Yes, Dick? You’re looking particularly dickish today

After so much commotion, the silence as they sat made Marinette’s ears ring. She and her Order were gathered in the spacious living room of Chloe’s house. After checking to make sure it was empty, she and the other miraculous holders had reassured their civilian classmates and sent them off to bed. They’d spent the better part of the day getting out of the overcrowded town. Thank Kwami they hadn’t still been travelling after the sun went down, but the noises from the woods still kept them all awake. Kagami had dug out a teapot from the kitchen cabinets and brewed several mugs for those who had needed one. No one was hungry.

Marinette’s hands shook slightly as she sipped her tea. That was another blessing, that Chloe’s VIP pass included a partially stocked kitchen to begin with. They would explore the rest of the house tomorrow, but for now, while the others rested.... They needed to talk.

She set her cup down with a sound that was amplified in the heavy quiet, then took a deep breath. “Okay....” The words felt strange in her mouth. She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “Can anyone sense their Kwami?”

She looked around at the blank faces of her friends as they all tried to reach for their respective powers. Chloe’s lip trembled, but her eyes were dry. Luka and Kagami’s jaws clenched, and Adrien frowned as he shook his head.

“None of us can, then,” Luka stated evenly, finally voicing what she’d been afraid of.

Marinette bit her lip. Kagami placed her cup of tea down forcefully. “What are we going to do.” It wasn’t a question so much as a statement.

Marinette rubbed her eyes. Kwami, what could they do? They should count themselves lucky they weren’t dead yet. She could only imagine her Maman and Papa’s panic, but they hadn’t tried to pull her out, so she hadn’t....

They could still die though, if what the Game Master had said was true. If their HP dropped to zero, they would die. There was no Second Chance or Lucky Charm this time. But they were still likely among the best trained people in the game. Her mind was made up.

“We fight.” She finally said with all the confidence she could muster. “There are thousands of civilians stuck in here with us, so we need to fight for them. We need to beat the level bosses in order to advance, right?” The question was rhetorical, but Chloe nodded and Kagami blinked in affirmation all the same.

“Good,” Marinette stood up. “We will be the ones to fight these bosses. So they don’t have to. Think about it, even without our Kwami, we still have an edge on everyone else here. The faster we beat the game, the faster they can go home.”

“And us too!” Adrien jumped up with a smile. “And us too,” Marinette echoed.

Luka drained his tea and stood next. “So it’s settled then,” he put a hand on her shoulder, steady as ever.

“Indeed,” Kagami rose beside them.

Chloe stared up at them, eyes wide. “You really think we can do this?” She asked in a small voice.

Marinette looked her in the eye and said, “I know we can.” The blonde released a small sigh and stood as well. A gleam of determination entered her eye as she said, “Okay. Let’s go save everyone from this ridiculous game.”

* * *

Jason, Jaime, Cassie, and Zatanna returned to the center of town. It was nearly deserted now, the murky twilight creating pockets of shadows around the square, perfect for hiding lurking figures. But it was nothing Jason couldn’t handle. In fact, with his current mood, he damn well dared them to try.

They’d spent hours hacking away at the wild boars, Jaime even joining in as his allergies permitted him. The four had gained a few player levels and a decent amount of money and loot. But damn if it wasn’t tiring as hell.

His crossbow was much more taxing than using guns, and it used different muscles in his shoulders and arms than he was accustomed to working. He could tell the others were similarly weighed down by exhaustion. Cassie’s whip demanded an endurance she wasn’t used to without her super strength, Jaime’s throws of a handaxe grew increasingly shorter the longer they fought, and Zatanna wasn’t used to fighting with physical weapons at all. It took everything they had left to drag themselves back into town.

One of the shadows a few feet away swam with sudden movement. Jason equipped his crossbow, arms shaking with the effort of just holding it. Damnit, now was not a good time, but he’d still fight these bastards with everything he had.

He relaxed when he saw it was Dick and the rest of Team Alpha approaching. Putting his weapon away, Jason crossed his arms and planted his feet firmly. Dick better have gotten them those fucking beds for the night.

“We’re just waiting on Beta,” Dick said in a low voice. “Then we can go to the inn and regroup.” The others could regroup. Jason would be heading right to sleep. He stalked over to the brick wall Bart sat slumped against and leaned his shoulder against it. The cool roughness grounded him and kept his eyes open.

He distantly heard Zatanna telling Dick that they had made out okay in the west. Unnecessary talking when there were other players listening nearby. He swallowed against the urge to forcibly silence them that was rising in his blood. It sang with the persistent thrum of battle, unshakable as it was insistent. He closed his eyes and counted his breaths. One. Breathe out and picture a color. Blue. Breathe in. Two. Out. Yellow. In. Three. Out. Green.

He’d barely reached ten by the time Tim led his group back to join them. The song in his blood stilled for now, he pushed off of the wall and followed as Dick and Wally guided them to the inn. He hardly registered his surroundings as they entered and divvied up the rooms. He, Dick, Tim, and Wally were in one room, the girls in another, and the other boys in a third. The place seemed clean enough as he cast his tired eyes around the tavern.

They climbed the stairs to their rooms and settled in each. Dick and Tim sat on their beds talking about going to the other boys’ room-- the largest of the three-- to discuss strategy. Jason hardly heard them as his head hit the pillow and he fell asleep.

* * *

The warmth of the early morning sun on her face woke Marinette up. She stretched and yawned, wincing at her soreness. Sometimes this game was a little too realistic. In the bed beside hers, Chloe grumbled something about the girls’ room having no curtains over the window and rolled over.

Marinette gave a strained smile at that. She quietly dressed and descended the ladder from their small loft to where the rest of the girls were still sleeping, and tip-toed out to the hall.

Down the stairs was the kitchen, empty save for a softly steaming tea kettle that meant Kagami and Luka would soon be joining her. She prepared dough to make fresh croissants as she had every couple of days for the past few weeks since they’d been trapped in the game.

The thought briefly gave her pause, that they’d already been here for close to a month, but she shook it off and formed the croissants onto the baking tray. She slid them into the oven just as Kagami and Luka trailed in from the garden. They’d been harvesting the already-ripe blueberries, and laid a heaping basket of them on the countertop.

Chloe’s VIP pass had saved their lives and then some. It came with a comfortably sized house that included a full kitchen, sitting area, storage room, balcony, two massive bedrooms with enough room to house all twelve of them, a garden ready to be planted in, and stables already stocked with several horses. It really was luxurious, and if they weren’t trapped in the game, she would have found it much more enjoyable.

The property also included a small pond that had proved to give a refreshing swim after training sessions, a well, and a few acres of woods. The latter was where they did most of their monster-training. Marinette had already reached a player level of 10 just by fighting the various denizens of their backyard. The rest of the new Order wasn’t far behind her, ranging from levels 7 to 10 between the four of them.

“Good morning, Marihime,” Kagami inclined her head respectfully, then poured the tea into three waiting mugs. Luka thanked her and shot Marinette a quick smile as way of greeting.

She nodded back and stirred a generous helping of sugar into her mug. The three sipped their tea while they waited for the croissants to bake. Once they were finished and cooling, Marinette and the others donned cloaks to protect against the morning chill and started their brisk morning walk into town.

The dirt path wound down to the base of the hill where several more paths for other player houses split off the main track that they now set on. The lush grass on either side was covered in a slight blanket of mist from the evaporating morning dew. Birds chirped high above, darting between the sparse trees. The walk took about a half hour, and their tea was nearly finished by the time they arrived at the outskirts of the city.

Kagami polished off her mug and placed it back in her inventory, then rested her hand warily on the hilt of her rapier as they began encountering more people. Their destination, a news stand, was thankfully not too close to the center of town. The less people they encountered, the better.

“Get your daily paper here! New news every day! Two copper pieces for a paper, one gold for a yearly subscription.” Marinette veered towards the NPC shouting her wares.

“Hi, one paper please,” she said breathlessly, and slid two copper pieces onto the counter.

“Here you go!” The vendor, an ample woman of thirty, took the coins and handed Marinette a folded newspaper with a smile. “You know, you’re one of my best customers. I’ll give you a deal,” she winked, “how about fifty silver for a yearly subscription!”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you miss, but I’m afraid we won’t be staying quite that long,” Marinette replied. At least, she hoped not.

“Very well dear, have a lovely day!” The NPC thankfully seemed unbothered, and went back to shouting her prices to the general population.

Luka and Kagami moved from their posts of casually guarding Marinette while she dealt with the woman manning the stall. The three set off back the way they’d come, ready for another day of training and exploring the first level.

Marinette unfolded the newspaper and skimmed the headlines while they walked, trusting her companions to keep an eye out for her. However, they weren’t expecting her to stop dead in her tracks. It took a moment for them to turn around and backtrack to where she stood staring intently at the paper in her hands.

“Holy Kwami....” She said, and read the article title again. “‘Exploration team finds boss dungeon entrance!’” She read aloud.

Luka moved to peer over her shoulder and read it alongside her. “You know what this means?” He asked with a small smile.

Kagami put her hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “We are on the path to ending this.”

* * *

Jason woke up to an empty house. It had only been a few weeks since the start of the game, and his idiot brothers were out in the village. Again. He groaned at the motion of swinging his legs off the bed to sit up. Training to get used to the in-game movements was getting old.

He stood and rubbed the back of his neck, loosening some of the stiffness that seemed to have soaked into his bones. He went downstairs to the spacious kitchen to get some fruits for breakfast. With twelve people to make money and collect resources, the team had made quick work of purchasing a large house to use as a base.

Grabbing a few apples for the road, Jason traced the now-familiar path to find Dick and a few of the others in a communal amphitheater. Bart and Wally were handing out flyers near the entrances, chatting people up and trying to convince them to come listen to where Dick and Tim were speaking below.

Jason took a seat next to Artemis, near the back. “At it again?” He asked her, crunching into his apple.

She was leaning forward to prop her elbows on her knees, her chin resting in cupped hands. “Yup,” she said, popping the “p.” She sighed and sat up. “All week, and we’ve only got a handful of recruits.”

“We’re all in this together after all,” Dick was saying loudly. “So join us to help end this game! I have a plan to train recruits for taking on the first level boss.”

Jason yawned. Same old fuckin’ stupid plan. There’s just no way to make risking your life sound enticing. “The others still out hunting?” He nudged Artemis’s knee with his own.

She nodded in affirmation, looking similarly discouraged and bored. He got up and started to leave, deciding to make himself useful and join the rest of the team in fighting.

“Jason!” A shout made him stop. He looked to the sky and muttered to himself about patience, then turned to face his brother. “Yes, Dick? You’re looking particularly dickish today.”

Dick crossed his arms. “Haha, very funny. If you’re not busy, I could really use you here spreading the word.”

“Look, people just don’t want to go up against something they’ve never faced before. Hell, half these dumbasses haven’t even been in a real fight before.” He shook his head. “This is a waste of time. I’m going to fight some monsters so that I can level up and be ready for when we inevitably face the big bad without these posers.”

Dick narrowed his eyes at that. “Now hold on a minute, we have no idea what we’re going up against here. We need a bigger group before we’re ready to go up against the boss. More than half of us aren’t up to par with our special moves out of the picture, and we’re still trying to figure out the gameplay.” He held his hands out placatingly. “An exploration group just found the probable location of the boss dungeon, so that’s half the battle already. We just need to wait for more recruits and a more solid plan.”

“So how long are we supposed to wait, Dick?” Jason asked incredulously. “A week? A month? A year? How many people are going to die while we ‘figure out’ how to do something we already damn well know how to do.” He poked an accusatory finger at Dick’s chest. “We’ve been training for weeks already, we can handle this.”

“I hear you Jay, but we have no idea what kind of a threat this is going to be. We need to take our time and--”

“What you need is a fucking backbone. We’re the best hope that thousands of people have at surviving! I say we train some more and then fight the damn thing ourselves, recruits or no.” He couldn’t believe Dick. Saving people was supposed to be his schtick, not Jason’s. “Hundreds of people have already died, in case you forgot, and this is only the first fucking level. Time is a luxury we do not have.”

Dick looked ready to retort when a young boy came up to him and tapped him on the elbow. “Excuse me, mister? I’m interested in recruitment!”

Jason took advantage of the distraction and stalked off towards the center of town. What a... well, Mr. and Mrs. Grayson picked a damn good name.

If Dick wanted to know what they were up against, then fine. He’d go find out for him.

[joshuazev]

On “the warehouse” and the empty space:

I’d like to own a warehouse in the middle of nowhere.  A huge property in some random and remote location that doesn’t receive too much attention, but still attracts a following.  In the movie “Field of Dreams,” there is a moment at the end where you see this huge line of cars trying to come to Iowa to watch the all time greats play.  That baseball field was beautiful in the movie.  I don’t want this warehouse to be externally beautiful.  I want it to be a huge steel mass that the majority of people might walk by, comment on its sheer size, and carry on if not to shrug their shoulders in passing in response to its ugly exterior.  I’m thinking if you took something the size of Powell’s book shop in Portland and put it in the boonies, it would be similar to this warehouse.  

In the summer, scores of basketball players would gather to come play in 1 on 1, 3 on 3, and 5 on 5 tournaments.  It would be big enough inside to host about 10-15 full size NBA basketball courts and there would be stands in the middle of all of them, so word of mouth spectators could come visit if they pleased.  Some of the runs would be competitive and others would be professional, but most of all it would be a place for anybody to get better if they wanted to.  A place where ex-NBA’ers could get back in shape, dropouts could attempt to resurrect their career, hopefuls could test their levels against elite competition and current superstars could come to take a break from Summer Pro-Am’s to just get a full taste and accurate preview of what the upcoming season might look like.  It would be a far cry from some good pickup with a couple of All-Stars at UCLA; it would be a place where recent retirees could show the new school cats what old-school basketball was like.  The type that love to say “No blood, no foul.”  And no refs either.  The bullshit wouldn’t be allowed, but neither would the bullying.  A slap on the wrist would be played through, but a cry-baby wouldn’t be tolerated, either.  Some of the technicians are working on a specific court that brings with it a special surprise.  It’s called “Prime Court.”  When you step on the court you immediately become the prime version of yourself.  We’ve kept it on the hush because we know what would happen if the media got word, but I’m obviously excited that we’ll be able to end a lot of those ridiculous debates about who would win between some of the all time greats.  Lebron vs. Kobe.  Kobe vs. Mike.  Mike vs. Lebron.  Warriors vs Bulls.  “Prime Court” has a lot of potential.  

Then in one of the far corners on the other side, secluded from a lot of the madness, I have a quiet space called the “The Confessional.”  In short, it’s a place for all of those responsible for watering down baseball, particularly the alleged steroid abusers to come clean.  Maybe Barry Bonds would show up.  Maybe Rafael Palmeiro would arrive crying.  Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire are already regulars.  Brady Anderson has showed up as has Manny Ramirez.  There are a couple that I will not mention.  It’s not meant to be an overbearing environment.  It’s meant to be a sanctuary.  You see, in the warehouse there is 100 percent anonymity.  Clandestine media invaders, thinking their cover was safe, would find that it would be blown on arrival.  Try to attempt a secretive photo and the device would be scrambled forever.  Try to jot down a spare word that could potentially become a story and the words would appear as gibberish.  It wouldn’t take long for any trespasser to realize that the special aura of the warehouse could not and would not be tainted.        

In many ways, the warehouse is full of magic.  Not magic like “Harry Potter” per se, although there are “Harry Potter” type elements featured there.  For one, the warehouse could be compared to “the room of requirement,” in the sense that it is a huge space that no-one really takes notice of and not everyone can access.  In one section of the warehouse there is a space called “Conspiracy Theory,” in which the visitors can go and sit for hours to read documents about whatever moment in history they like and watch as much film as they want from alternate perspectives.  The technicians at the warehouse have a good relationship with organ donors, so if someone were to say, “I’d like to figure out more about the Kennedy assassination” or “I’d like to learn more about the 2000 election” or “Is there a cure for AIDS or Cancer?” or “Are there aliens living on earth?” or “Is the Illuminati a real thing”, you’d have the opportunity to look through the eyes of people involved with these topics (historians, investigators, witnesses) to see for yourself.  Think “the Pensieve” in the HP books, but your body remaining physically in one place instead of being transported to another time.  

The warehouse has been earning quite the reputation lately of being a great center and hotspot for awesome collaborations.  There is a state-of-the-art arts center called “the Ladder”, in which virtuosos and creatives from all over the artistic stratosphere come together to sit, talk, and experiment with one another.  I remember when I’d hear cool things about famous people getting together in Hollywood.  Kanye West and Spike Jonze.  Jimmy Iovine and everybody.  I overheard someone saying that Jay-Z, Muhammad Yunus, Al Franken, and Zuckerberg were discussing something the other day in “the Ladder.”  That same person told me that Michelle Obama, Malala Yousafzai, Angela Davis, Oprah Winfrey, and Joan Baez had been talking all week in the board room.  That gave me chills.  There seems to be nothing that surprises me anymore.  I saw J.K. Rowling speaking with Beyonce the other day.  It took a lot of effort not to flip out.  Then I saw Kevin Durant talking to Jeff Bezos and I ached to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.  The Sonic fan in me hoped for the best.

During the school year, the warehouse has one part of the building that serves as a sort of alternative school/juvenile detention center/psych ward/rehabilitation center.  Kanye sometimes voluntarily checks in to the psych ward, but the presence of someone so well known is very rare.  He also voluntarily speaks to the students at the alternative school and sometime involuntarily ends up at the detention center.  All tasteless jokes aside, he is actively involved with the board of directors running the facility and makes annual contributions and through his support, he has brought other inspiring and influential people to come and speak to the students and at-risk youth.  Every month there are workshops conducted by the fantastic team that runs all of the centers.  It is intense, there is lots of resistance, but ultimately all of the students and patients come out of it feeling more confident and prepared to make the next step.  Many of the aforementioned collaborators have instituted a mentoring program in which they form a special relationship with a student and agree to be there sponsor and mentor to help them get out of their funk and make it to the other side.  Tarantino was here last month and took a keen interest in a creative young student, who had a knack for writing screenplays.  They hit it off and the rumor is Tarantino is using some of the kid’s content in his next movie.  Or this other young girl who was kicked out of school because she had a “writing problem.”  Not that she didn’t write enough, but that she wrote too much; she wouldn’t do anything else in any other subject but write.  Zadie Smith heard about her after a conference at “the Ladder” and agreed to help out the girl turn this “problem” into writing books.  

Anything seems possible here.  Aside from the flagrant foul in a old-timers vs. new timers hoop game, the bad energy is at a minimum.  Deep breaths are taken here.  You might here Kanye yell, “Can we all just take like 10 deep breaths real quick?!” and not surprisingly, you can feel the collective sigh that everyone in the building agrees to take.  People are valued for who they are and the sky really is the limit for anybody and everybody.  There is such little judgment and when there is, it’s vocalized and talked out.  Everyone in the building has been through something, knows that it takes a lot to deal with it, and that they are surrounded by people that care, want to help, and keep them safe.  That’s the underlying theme at “the warehouse.”  It’s a big space, but it feels small.  It’s intimate and the technicians are constantly reworking and bettering the atmosphere.  There are white boards FILLED with new additions, acquisitions, and planning for the future.  I can’t wait to see what they come up with.