#she's very efficient at utilizing her brothers

[episims]

BB *imitates ambulance*

Deanna "Uh, we should've thought it better when we put you next to the television! You're too young to watch horror movies, too."

Lillian "Hi, Paige!"

Paige "What's up, Lils?"

Talia "-it's not hard. I can help you with it?"

Lillian "Oh, thanks! Dari usually does my math assignments, so I could use someone else when he leaves."

Paige "Hey, how about we head to the hangout after I finish this?"

Lillian "Sure! I mean, if that's okay for you, too."

Talia "Mm, if you want."

Lillian "Did you have other plans?"

Talia "No—I mean, I thought we could watch a movie, or..." why it's so hard to ask her out?? "But hangout's fine! We have marshmallows somewhere, let's grab them along for roasting."

Lillian "Ooo, nice!"

[duskwoodraven]

The Myers Briggs personality types of the main Duskwood cast according to me, myself, and I. This is purely my opinion on what fits them best, I also took little quotations from the 16personality website that struck me as good representations of their character, I hope it’s a nice read for you guys.💚💚💚

Jake - INTJ (Architect)

“Logical and quick-witted, INTJs pride themselves on their ability to think for themselves, not to mention their uncanny knack for seeing right through phoniness and hypocrisy. Because their minds are never at rest, these personalities may sometimes struggle to find people who can keep up with their nonstop analysis of everything around them. But when they do find like-minded individuals who appreciate their intensity and depth of thought, INTJs form profound and intellectually stimulating relationships that they deeply treasure.”

I’ve seen some theorize Jake as an INTP, but to me I feel INTP seem to be more chaotic, jumping from one thought to the next and overthinking. To me, Jake rings as more straightforward in pursuing his goal and doesn’t get distracted by every possibility or lost in his thoughts.

“They believe that, through willpower and intelligence, they can achieve even the most challenging goals. They are firm believers that taking the easy way out in any given situation prevents people from achieving greatness.”

Lilly - ENTJ (Commander)

I feel ENTJ fits Lilly best, I also like the idea that her personality is similar to her brother’s, just more extroverted. I don’t think I have any screenshots to show this but I have been struck by how she tends to talk similarly to Jake and processes information in a cool manner. She’s intelligent, resourceful, and strong willed. We can see this when she went to work on the #iamjake movement.

“If there’s anything that people with this personality type love, it’s a good challenge, big or small, and they firmly believe that, given enough time and resources, they can achieve any goal. This quality makes ENTJs brilliant entrepreneurs, and their ability to think strategically and hold a long-term focus while executing each step of their plans with determination and precision makes them powerful business leaders.”

Also she has a tendency to want to get her way, as seen during the vote and after the video upload.

“ “It’s my way or the highway” – People with the ENTJ personality type are notoriously unsupportive of ideas that distract from their primary goals and even more so of ideas based on emotional considerations. They won’t hesitate to make that fact clear to those around them.”

Cleo - ESTJ (Executive)

Cleo to me has a very determined attitude, even when she was threatened multiple times she didn’t let anything deter her from finding Hannah, it’s very respectable.

“People with the ESTJ personality type (Executives) are representatives of tradition and order, utilizing their understanding of what is right, wrong, and socially acceptable to bring families and communities together. Embracing the values of honesty and dedication, ESTJs are valued for their mentorship mindset and their ability to create and follow through on plans in a diligent and efficient manner. They will happily lead the way on difficult paths, and they won’t give up when things become stressful.”

Phil - ESTP (Entrepreneur)

It was a little tricky to pick one for Phil since we didn’t have time to chat with him much compared to the others. But I think what we do know about him fits in here.

“ESTPs’ perceptiveness isn’t used for mind games, they prefer to communicate clearly, with direct and factual questions and answers. What you see is what you get with this personality type.”

Phil always struck me as the open type, doesn’t hide what he thinks, which is was can eventually get him into trouble (the arrest…) Also ESTPs are apparently considered to be flirts which fits Phil perfectly.

“In the early stages of a relationship, individuals with the ESTP personality type embody a sense of spontaneity and excitement. They are bold in their courting attempts, rarely hesitating to flirt openly even when others are present.”

Jessy - ENFP (Campaigner)

Jessy was easy to pick, she embodies the ENFP perfectly in my opinion. She’s just a really sweet person in the game and cares about her friends very much 💚

“ENFPs may live for deep, meaningful conversations, but they can also be spontaneous and lighthearted. These personalities know how to find fun and joy in the present moment – and few things give them more pleasure than sharing their joy with others. All of these strengths come together to form a person who is warmhearted and approachable, with an altruistic spirit and a friendly disposition. ENFPs strive to get along with pretty much everyone, and their circles of acquaintances and friends often stretch far and wide.”

Dan - ISTP (Virtuoso)

I wasn’t sure about Dan until I read this excerpt,

“One of the biggest issues that they are likely to face is that, because they often act out of haste, they might rub people the wrong way sometimes. ISTPs are not the type to sugarcoat their opinions or feelings. They tend to have a very straightforward communication style that is often misinterpreted as bluntness or a lack of sensitivity, but it is simply the way these genuine souls operate. ISTP personalities have no time for people-pleasing or unnecessary social niceties. With them, there is little need to question their motives.”

Dan is one of the most blunt characters in Duskwood, willing to call out the obvious when no one else will. You can’t be a hypocrite or avoid owning up to your own actions around him.

Richy - ESFJ (Consul)

I was curious which personality would be the backbone of a strange character like Richy, but I think ESFJ fits the bill. In the group, Richy loved to be the middleman, making sure to not make anyone upset with him. He cares about being liked and cares what people think of him which may be why he tried so hard to keep everything a secret.

“People with the ESFJ personality type are altruists. They take seriously their responsibility to give back, serve others, and do the right thing. And they believe that there is a clear right thing to do in nearly every situation. While some personality types adopt a more lenient, live-and-let-live attitude, ESFJs may find it difficult to not judge when someone takes a path that strikes them as misguided. As a result, they often struggle to accept it when someone – particularly someone they care about – disagrees with them or chooses to walk a path that they do not understand.”

Hannah “disagreed with him” and Richy couldn’t accept that.

“For many people with the ESFJ personality type, one of life’s greatest challenges is accepting that they can’t control anyone else’s thoughts or behavior – not even those who are nearest and dearest to them.”

Thomas - INFP (Mediator)

This was a weird observation for me since I am also an INFP… but I think nothing else fits Thomas better, he’s a sensitive guy and a bit self isolating, but he’ll still do what he can to help those he cares about.

“Idealistic and empathetic, people with the INFP personality type long for deep, soulful relationships, and they feel called to help others. Due to the fast-paced and competitive nature of our society, they may sometimes feel lonely or invisible, adrift in a world that doesn’t seem to appreciate the traits that make them unique. Yet it is precisely because INFPs brim with such rich sensitivity and profound creativity that they possess the unique potential to connect deeply and initiate positive change.”

—-

So with all that being said, what do you guys think? What are your personality types? Do you match with any of these? I’d love to hear about it 🤗

[iamblue15]

Mystery Kids if they were in BOTW and TOTK's Hyrule

Dipper would be overall ecstatic and enthralled in learning about pretty much everything Hyrule has to offer. The Kingdom's history of thwarting Ganondorf and his dark armies, the various races, creatures and monsters, materials and resources, the Depths and Sky Islands, etc. This could get him into trouble sometimes as he might run into dangerous situations. I can see him loading up his Purah Pad with as many pictures as it can possibly store.

Mabel would most definitely try her hand at making her own elixirs and dishes that turn out dubious and hazardous to anyone's health. That accounts for clothing and armor as she would use different dyes and alterations for people to look "glamorous yet efficient in battle". (It's shown little promise so far.)

With psychic powers in his arsenal, Raz doesn't have much to worry about defending himself. I like to think he'd take an interest in the Rito's aerial combat, utilizing his levitation ballon and psi blasts while airborne. Tulin would be impressed by his technique and even invite him for target practice.

There's no doubt Lili wouldn't spare a moment of hesitation when delivering punishment to whoever dares to oppose her and her friends, be it monster or Yiga. She'd commute with the different plants and flowers across Hyrule, especially with Silent Princesses as they are very rare. She also enjoys the company of the Koroks.

Due to a past experience with being in another world, Coraline would train to be the most prepared to face the dangers of Hyrule, taking up weapons and survivalist training. She'd be the first to take action if her friends or someone else were being attacked by enemies.

The Zonai technology would definitely be up Wybie's alley. From trying to figure out the different schematics to inventing some machines of his own, like a motorbike. He'd also collect different bugs and even monster parts which he supplies Coraline and the others with for crafting weapons and elixers. I see him being friends with Beedle as they geek out about bugs.

Norman would try to keep out of trouble as much as possible which is a little difficult to be arranged in this new world. He gets along with most of the inhabitants thanks to his friendly nature. Whenever they have to traverse the Depths, he always spots these green floating balls of fire that he swore could hear them whispering. He wonders if there's anything he and his friends could do to help them move on.

I feel like Neil would make good friends with the Gorons and they'd treat him as a "little brother". The elixirs are pretty much a godsend for him as they can replenish his stamina, boost his strength and speed, cool his body down, and more.

[ladynicte]

Nico as the son of Zeus though, both him and Bianca being the Children of Zeus, not of Jupiter.

They are both still born before the Pact is made, but Hera being Hera is obviously not very pleased about it, so Zeus does the same thing he originally does with Thalia and Jason.

He abandons the older sister to her luck, and gives up the little brother to Hera, as a peace offering.

Bianca's life is spared, she doesn't get immensely tracked down by monsters, or anything, because technically her birth is lawful, but she cannot be allowed to live any further, and reach 16, so she still gets taken to the Lotus Hotel.

Hera takes away her memories. Hera is always playing the long term game, she knows it's on her best interest to make sure Bianca doesn't remember any of it.

Hera knows she could probably make her take a bath on the River Lethe, if she insisted hard enough, but she knows not to bother Hades with matters this trivial.

Bianca then, proceeds to live decades upon decades of her life, feeling like she's missing something, and like, maybe there should be somebody else sharing her suite on the Hotel, but between all the games, and shows, and fun she's always having, the feeling almost fades away.

Only almost, but good enough.

Nico on the other hand becomes Hera's only connection to the mortal world, the only mortal child she's ever been this close with.

Hera does think about whether to send Nico to one of the Camps, but eventually, she doesn't, same thing as with his sister's case. It's not the right time to have him roaming the world, but the Hotel is out of the question now.

So instead, Hera takes Nico with her, and maybe it's just how different Nico has shown himself to be from Hera's reproachable husband, or from any of her strangled children.

On Olympus, Nico doesn't grow any older, his memories are erased too, he has the faded sensation like he's missing an important part of himself, but Hera never allows him to sink too deep into those thoughts, and feelings.

Instead, she teaches Nico things, about everything really, she teaches him history, how to read and write, in English, Greek, Latin, how to utilize the powers his father gave him at birth, how to fight, and how to protect himself.

Hera sits Nico in the middle of the clouds, up above on Olympus, and shows him the world, she explains about the Greek Camp, she explains about the Roman Camp.

She carefully, and fully answers each and every single one of Nico's questions, about why they are separated from each other, and the multiple Pantheons, and everybody's powers, who's stronger than who, and why.

What stories are true, and which aren't. Hera realizes that this is the first time anybody has ever asked her about her stories. She can't help but indulge.

And Hera knows she usually wouldn't be caught doing things like that, that she has got the fame of a ruthless powerful force of nature, and for a good reason, but marriage is also a big deal about patience, and she's patient if nothing else.

Or maybe, it just has to do with the fact that it's been millenia since anybody has seemed to actually care about what she has to say.

Hera refuses to allow Nico to live any sort of mortal life, and yet, this is the closest she's ever felt to that sentiment her brothers, and sisters, describe when talking about their heroes, and mortal children.

When watching Nico's sleeping form, after yet another lesson successfully fulfilled, because Nico is nothing if not efficient, Hera thinks that she can almost understand. Almost, but the most she's ever gotten.

The decades pass, and Nico's human body remains the same, but he does grow up.

He grows up to be strong, and knowledgeable, good at basically anything anybody could think of.

Hera has him watching too, as she pick and chooses each of the Seven Heroes she deems worthy.

Nico attentively watches, as Juno ties Frank Zhang's life to a fragil wooden piece in front of his mortal mother.

Nico sits next to a baby Leo Valdez, singing to him, together with Hera, that same melody Hera used to sing to Nico on her own, way back, when he himself was a baby.

It all feels so long ago, even though Nico is well aware, he hasn't lived even the most minimum fraction of what Hera, and the rest in Olympus have.

Nico claps, as that incredibly young Leo proudly shows him, and Hera, his little drawing of the battleship.

Nico doesn't ask Hera about it, because he thinks they both already know what's going to happen with that ship, very very soon.

Human lives pass in the blink of an eye; That's another thing Hera had taught him.

At long last, Nico has to very bravely walk down, so far away from Hera, for the first time in his life, and even away from his already distant father, and their skies, and the protection of the Olympus, to get into his Uncle Pluto's realm.

Juno speaks to her little brother on Nico's behalf, explains why Nico going there is of the upmost importance, and just like Pluto did with all of his irresponsible little brother's children before, he gives Nico a random innocuous Quest to fulfill, before he lets him do what Juno asked, out of them both.

Nico grabs Hazel Levesque's hand, and her soul, and raises her from the Fields of Asphodel, before bringing her to Camp Jupiter.

Later on, when Hazel questions him, and asks why rescue her at all, they don't know each other in any way, they are barely cousins of any sort. Nico only tells her that divine intervention is sometimes needed, but rarely given.

Because, that's the way he has seen Hera respond to these sort of matters, and if there was one thing Hera never taught him, was how to convive with mortals.

Nico doesn't blame her, ultimately, he's aware Hera couldn't have possibly taught him something she never learned herself.

Nico never asks Hera why she didn't pick him to partake on the Prophecy too, but Hera still answers him, because she knows him too well. Can read his expressions just fine.

For the better or for the worst they know each other when nobody else does.

Hera tells him that he will have his own important role to play on it, eventually, even when she wishes he didn't.

And when Hera can tell the time has finally come, she sends Nico down to the Earth. To New Rome.

Juno figures it's fitting, after all, by this point it's basically a warning towards the rest.

Proudly proclaims him as her own. Nico becomes known across New Rome as Juno's Champion. She's his Patron.

Everybody knows who Nico's Godly parent must actually be, when he comes furling down from the sky, in a tangible mass of wild winds, and thunderstorms, riding a white steed made from the wind spirits.

But Nico never refers to Jupiter as his father, or to Zeus either, if asked, he only ever talks about Hera or Juno as his caretaker. After a while, nobody else questions him.

Juno doesn't send him to be part of any Cohort, or even as an official Praetor, instead, she sends him to enact, exactly as what she's meant to be, as a warning.

Nico becomes their only direct contact with The Gods.

He protects the Camp from afar, and he's not gloomy or unnecessarily confrontational, but he's so far away from the rest. So different from them.

It's difficult for Nico to really connect with the rest, who have lived so differently from him, who have seen so little of what he has.

Nonetheless he tries, and he does manage to form close friendships, with people like Dakota and Reyna.

Nico can't ever quite bring himself to make friends with Hazel and Frank, he has this feeling like he already doomed them, mostly because he has.

On the other side, Bianca would have run away from the Casino with Percy and the rest, when they first found it.

Bianca, who would always be so on edge, feeling like she's missing something, like she's forgetting something very important, that she should be doing something else.

The moment she sees the opportunity to run away, and try to feel fulfilled, somehow. She takes it.

Percy and the rest, have to make a complete detour to get Bianca back to Camp safely, because if they had actually taken her to the Underworld with them, Hades probably wouldn't have spared her.

Bianca would grow up in Camp, living in the Hermes Cabin, and the feeling, now without all the distractions of the Casino, would only grow bigger, she would have to learn about all the time she's been out of commission.

Eventually, Bianca has a sudden outburst of her own, probably for some small petty reason, but the way that the thunderstorms form, and the lighting hits the Earth, right in front of her, every muscle on her body feeling electrified.

Everybody knows at once who her father must be.

Zeus doesn't claim her, but he doesn't need to. Bianca decides that she never needed him in her life before, and she's not gonna start needing him now.

Bianca doesn't tell anybody else, but she moves to The Zeus Cabin, and sits at his table during breakfast next morning.

She's forced to give a lot of explanations to all the Campers, but she's resilient, if nothing else.

Hera decides to send Nico to the Greek side after a while.

So he can meet the other players on her desperate last move.

It's another one of those things Hera usually wouldn't do something, but for once, she feels like she has somebody who's fully on her corner, who doesn't call her desperate plans foolish and useless, and she feels like, if Nico doesn't know everything that's happening, nobody ever will, and that will only keep, overcomplicating things.

And, when Nico finally meets Bianca, after Hera very purposely sends him to the Cabin next to hers.

The thunderstorms form wildly around them, and the winds can't seem to settle down, as lighting engulfs them both, he decides Hera is going to have to give him a very very long explanation.

[vvatchword]

Brother Jack

Delta knew right away that he couldn’t afford to stick to the forest behind the house. Eleanor would always find him. She could just appear at his side. He didn’t dare look at her mind straight-on, but he could feel her fury radiating out of the house. It was directed at the others now. She wasn’t thinking about him.

He had to take a chance.

He didn’t run for the woods, but for the road. He kept to a deer path in the trees until he got to the road—he didn’t want to chance the girls seeing him go, only to alert Eleanor—then turned toward town and ran for it.

He could run like hell. The sun beat down on him. He hadn’t gotten very far when he hit another small group of Sisters. These were Tenenbaum’s youngest. They shouted altogether when they saw him, but he didn’t stop. He just plunged past them at a full sprint.

He’d been engineered to carry a suit that weighed a full ton. He’d been given ungodly endurance. Every breath utilized oxygen more efficiently than a normal human being; every ounce of food he ate, more energy. He was a freight train given flesh and he flew.

He could tell that Eleanor was too far to suss him out by about the sixth mile. He only slowed down by the tenth, and by that time, he’d hit town.

He immediately felt like he’d made a mistake. Cars kept stopping in the street to gawk at him. Pedestrians crossed the road when they saw him, sometimes at a jog. He looked in a window at himself and shuddered. He was filthy from working in the yard all day, and he was wearing his old shoes with the holes in the sides. He was so tall, and he didn’t look right. There was a way to look and he didn’t have it anymore.

A black-and-white car marked with a seal drifted to a stop across the street, then pulled a U-turn and rolled up beside him. Delta hunched his shoulders, kept his eyes forward.

“Hey,” a man said. “You. Big guy.”

Delta looked over his shoulder. A man in a dark uniform and sunglasses was stepping out of the car. Another man in dark glasses sat at the steering wheel, holding a radio.

“Yeah, you,” the policeman said. “Come here.”

Delta shook his head.

“You keep walking, and I can arrest you for resistance,” said the cop. His hand rested on his weapon.

Delta hesitated. He wasn’t afraid of the policeman or his gun. For the first time in a long time, he thought about what it would mean to kill somebody. He could cross that gap between them in a second, and he could twist the cop’s head off in the next.

His hands twitched. He turned to face him, drawing upright. At his full height, he stood eight and a half feet tall. To the cop’s credit, he didn’t flinch, but he did unbutton his holster.

“You better not cause trouble,” said the cop. “I put in a call to the state hospital. They’ll pick you up in 30 minutes.”

“There you are,” a man said in a colorless voice. “Hey, thanks officer. I’ve been looking for this guy.”

Delta scanned the street. A big white guy in a Panama hat, long-sleeved shirt, and slacks was strolling up the sidewalk toward him. He wore aviator glasses. And hell, he was a lot bigger than most people. Delta’s eyes locked on him, wondering.

“This guy’s yours?” asked the cop. “I don’t recognize you. Are you from out of town?”

“Yep,” said the stranger.

Delta brought his hands up and started signing, hoping against hope. He didn’t dare make sounds. Making sounds would make it worse.

“Who are you?” he asked.

To his shock, the big guy signed back.

“A friend,” he said. “Hold still. Don’t scare the guy.”

“Okay.”

The cop relaxed and buttoned his gun. “Oh, I see. Deaf mute?”

“Just mute.” The guy’s voice was rough and grumbly like from cigarettes. “Don’t worry, his bark is worse than his bite.” He turned to Delta. A white man, probably. Looked old, perhaps in his sixties. “Come here, will you, buddy? You’re scaring the people out here.”

He also signed at him: “Don’t worry. We have to get you off the street.”

“What do you want?” Delta asked.

“I’ll tell you once I deal with the fuzz.”

“What’s he saying?” the cop said.

“That he got lost,” said the stranger. “He wondered where I’d gotten to.”

“Okay, okay. Just get that guy off the street,” the cop said, sliding back into the car. “He’s scaring people.”

With that, the stranger walked up to him—Delta had backed up under the awning of a sub shop—and held out his hand. There was a gap between cuff and arm. It was an old, wrinkled arm, liver spots on the hands. But once this close, Delta could see the faint traces of Plasmid scarring across the knuckles, down the arm, across the palms, like jags of lightning.

Delta rolled his arm and looked down. He had the same scarring, faint and shining in the sun. Suddenly he felt cold.

Delta shook his head “no.”

“Please go away,” he signed. “I don’t need help.”

“You’re going to get shot without me. Trust me.” The stranger set a hand on his wrist. His palm was rough.

“You’re from there,” Delta signed.

“Same as you,” the stranger signed back. “Come on. I’ve got a place for you to stay.”

“I already have a place,” Delta said.

“So why did you leave it?” asked the stranger, taking him by the elbow. He wasn’t signing anymore, but speaking aloud.

Delta found himself following. What else could he do? The idea of going back to the farmhouse closed his throat. He didn’t want to see Eleanor. He didn’t want to see anyone. He wanted to disappear.

It was astonishing for him to realize that he hadn’t suffered from an intrusive memory once since fleeing the house. He held himself a little straighter. He had a clearer head than he could remember since… well, the beginning. Thoughts seemed to be coming to him faster. That was a good sign, right?

“So where were you going?” asked the stranger. He directed him down a quiet side street. Delta followed.

“I don’t know.”

“A guy like you stands out. You aren’t safe here. Maybe you’d be safe in a big city. Maybe.” The stranger looked up at him, unsmiling. “There are people looking for you and your girls, you know. Powerful people.”

Delta stared down, eyes wide.

“Who?” he asked. “Why?”

“Can you imagine a whole military filled with people like you?” asked the man. “Big, powerful, always following orders?”

Delta shuddered. “But that would hurt them.”

“They don’t care.” The man smiled grimly. “Look, I need something from Dr. Tenenbaum.”

With that, the man whistled. From a side street, two skinny guys in bib overalls came running, both holding paper bags filled with groceries. They wore faded ballcaps and shoes that were just a little too big. Delta’s first thought was that they were mechanics.

They pattered up on either side, staring up unabashedly into Delta’s face, and the smell of them hit him like a brick. He stared back in shock. These weren’t guys—these were Sisters. There was the unnatural height, the unnatural slenderness, the strange eyes. Both were dark-skinned—one probably had parents from India; the other’s might have been from Mexico. They were cured Sisters, too. No fingers picked at his thoughts.

“Tell me,” said the stranger. “How close is too close for your Sister?”

“Six, maybe seven miles,” Delta said. “I need to get out of town.”

He couldn’t believe how easily it came out of his hands. The idea of leaving Eleanor filled him with an overwhelming relief.

“You want to leave your Sister?” asked one of the girls. Her eyes were huge.

“Yes.” Delta glanced aside into a storefront. “She…”

He couldn’t think of what to say. She told his secret to everybody? She wouldn’t listen to him when he said no? She didn’t care about his feelings? It all sounded so silly when he thought about it.

“Don’t know much about Alpha series,” said the stranger. “I never met one. But I heard they each only had one Sister. I’m guessing your Sister is the, ah… possessive type?”

It felt horrible to think it. Possessive—Eleanor, possessive. Admitting to it felt like name-calling, so Delta said nothing. He looked away.

“We have to assume she’s headed this way,” said the stranger. “So we do one of two things: we jump on a train or we get on a bus. What do you feel like doing, Mr. B?”

Delta rubbed his arms. “What’s fastest?”

“John Barton, there you are,” a familiar voice drawled out. “Now I know you aren’t heading off somewhere with strangers.”

Delta whirled. So did the stranger and the Sisters. Sinclair leaned out the window of his car, rolling a cigarette in his mouth.

“Augustus Sinclair,” said the stranger in a wondering voice. “I knew you were around here.”

“Who’s he?” asked one of the girls, signing.

“Oh, I’m just the friend of this big lug here,” said Sinclair, jerking his chin up at Delta. “Come on, big hoss. You’re coming back with me.”

Delta shook his head, backing into the wall.

Sinclair laughed.

“Some things never change,” he said. “Chief, what on Earth could possess you to come all the way out here? Those girls back home called me cryin’ up a storm.”

Sinclair was talking like they hadn’t kissed at all! Delta burned. Could no one hear him? Would no one take him seriously at all? Was he cursed to be shunted from one person to another for the rest of eternity?

“Looks like the big guy’s made up his mind,” said the stranger. “Gotta say I understand the sentiment.”

“I must admit, I’m at a bit of a loss,” said Sinclair, swinging his door open. “You know who I am, but I haven’t got a clue about you.” He pushed himself upright, balanced on the car. “Do give me the pleasure of your introduction.”

“Oh, we’ve never met.” The man took off his glasses and his hat and shook his hair out. He was gray-headed, had a short, scruffy beard. When he raised his head, he smiled. His irises glowed faintly gold. “The name is Jack Wynand. You knew my father.”

Sinclair’s smile never broke. He laughed and leaned back against his car.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “Must say, never thought I’d see you in the flesh. Tell me, what use do you have for an old Alpha model, anyway?”

Delta bristled. Sinclair wasn’t looking at him. Sinclair’s eyes were locked on Jack’s.

Jack bent his head. “It’s less about him and more about Tenenbaum,” he said. “If she can revert Big Daddies…”

“Now how’d you figure that out?” Sinclair asked.

“…then she can revert me.” Jack bent his head. “I want ADAM stripped from me. I don’t care what it does.”

The Sisters shrank at his sides, faces full of misgiving.

“With your luck, it’d shrink you to a fetus,” said Sinclair.

“Then that’s what I want,” Jack said.

“Well, son, you’re too late,” Sinclair said. “No ADAM left. Not a drop. Takes gallons for something like that, from what I understand.”

“And you?” asked Jack.

“Me?” Sinclair asked.

A car stopped behind Sinclair’s, honked, and then slowly pulled around them. Sinclair waved at them, gave them an apologetic grimace, turned back to Jack.

Jack spoke again. “So they saved you, and they saved Dr. Porter, but they didn’t save this man here.” Jack jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Delta glanced down at the thumb, then at Sinclair. Sinclair didn’t skip a beat. His brows rose and he gave Jack a brilliant smile.

“I see you’ve done your homework!” he said.

“Answer me,” said Jack. “Why did they save one of the biggest sharks of Rapture before one of his victims?”

Sinclair’s smile was finally cooling. “Well, son, if you don’t know, then I don’t think you ought to.”

Delta felt the flicker at the edge of his mind a second too late.

The air shuddered. There was a tearing, popping sound. Suddenly Eleanor was directly behind him, pressed up against his back. Delta closed his eyes, shoulders sinking. The two Sisters whirled to face her, mouths agape. Jack turned slowly, fingers flexing. He dropped his cigarette. It fell from his fingers like he’d forgotten it.

“Oh, Eleanor,” said Sinclair. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Your boy’s made a hell of a friend today.”

Big Sisters slowly stepped out of the alleys on either side of them, eyes locked on Jack. They were wearing slacks and jeans and what Tenenbaum called their “garden shoes.” Their fingers were curled into claws. There was a heaviness in the air that could not be explained by the weather.

“I think you better get moving, son,” said Sinclair, leaning back against the car.

“I’m going with him,” Delta signed.

Finally, a reaction. One of the Sisters gasped. Eleanor’s hand tightened on his wrist. Sinclair went white.

“Honey, you don’t want to do that,” he said.

“Nobody cares what I want,” Delta said.

“That’s not true!” Eleanor said. The words poured out of her so fast that at first they weren’t comprehensible.

“There are only two people here who know what it’s like to be us,” Jack said softly. His fingers were twitching, twitching, twitching. “Don’t you agree, Subject Delta?”

“I don’t want to fight,” Delta said quickly. “I just want to leave. I’ll go anywhere.”

“Daddy!” Eleanor said. “Don’t!”

Her voice was panicky. Delta savored it—until she pushed into his mind. She was simply there, effortlessly, and she could see everything, and she was crying, but he couldn’t push her out, he wasn’t equipped to push her out, they’d never made him as anything other than a gun she summoned at a whim.

He roared and twisted out of her grip. The Sisters all jumped, Sinclair twitched, and even Jack sprang back. Delta thrilled to it. Yes, jump! Good old Subject Delta! Good old chief! He’ll do anything you ask for a smile and a pat on the back!

“You all think I’m a child!” Delta said. “You all think I’m an idiot!”

“I don’t think that at all!” Eleanor said.

“Stop telling me what to do!” Delta said. “I’m tired!”

“Eleanor,” Sinclair said. “Maybe I should take over.”

She whirled on him, her mouth opening and shutting. Sinclair was white, and he was no longer smiling. His eyes locked on Delta’s.

“You know what you need, honey?” he asked. He held up a hand. “You need out of this sun.” He extended a finger. “You need a sit.” A second finger rose. “You need a cold drink.” A third finger. “And more than that, you need to get out of this little town before the sheriff shows up. Come on. I’ll take you to my place.”

Eleanor shook her head over and over, but the Sisters were moving in. One grabbed her arm. The others kept a healthy distance from Jack and his Sisters, both of whom had set their bags of groceries against the wall and shoved their hands into their pockets.

Jack hadn’t moved at all. He had watched. He had listened. His eyes were unnaturally bright.

“Delta,” he said, “if you come with me, I promise I’ll treat you like a person deserves.”

Eleanor sputtered, frozen between taking complete control of his body—forcing him back to the house—and letting go. Jack waited, only watching, only listening. Who knew what he wanted? But Delta was staring at Sinclair, swaying in place like one hypnotized.

Suddenly all of his memories seemed so foolish. How long ago had they been, anyway? Sinclair probably had a new boyfriend already. He probably got over Delta back when he died the first time. He’d locked him up in a room. What kind of guy locked people up in rooms?

“Are you going to lock me up?” Delta asked.

Now it was Sinclair’s turn to flinch. His eyes were wet.

“Oh, John,” he said.

He said it in such a defeated, quiet way.

Delta sighed. He sank down.

“I’m going with Sinclair,” he said. “Thanks, Jack.”

The Sisters relaxed. Eleanor’s mind grudgingly lifted from his. She rubbed her arm across her face.

Jack glanced up at him. “You’re making a mistake,” he said.

“I know,” Delta said, and stepped into the street.

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

[katsushika-division]

“I spoke fire, laughed smoke, and madness spilled forth from my inspiration.”

Introduction

Akari Himura is the younger sister of Death Row Block's Rintaro Himura and is currently a high school student. She is not really known for anything besides being the younger sister of the worst terrorist in Japanese history. However unbeknownst to anyone besides a few people Akari is the criminal known as “Cinder” who has become a force to reckon with in Japan’s criminal underground.

Akari is a young girl of above-average height with a slim figure. She has dark red shoulder-length hair that she temporarily dyes black when she goes out as Cinder. She has sharp gold eyes with a blank look in them.  She wears a white hoodie with a black tank top underneath and an orange jacket over it. She also wears a pair of black shorts, a red belt with chains, and a set of black tights underneath. On her feet are a set of black ankle boots. Her accessories include a black leather choker and a silver cuff bracelet on her left hand. As Cinder, she wears a full-length body suit made out of a kevlar weave. The suit is black with dark red accents. Akari wears a black overcoat made out of similar material as her suit with a metal cuff at the end of each elbow-length sleeve. The hem ripped, extending down to her knees. On her hands, she wears a set of futuristic black gauntlets that extend halfway up her forearm. On her feet, Akari wears a set of black heavy-duty steel-toe boots. For accessories, Akari wears a black utility belt around her waist and a matching combat pouch on her left leg, around her thigh. Finally, to complete her look, Akari wears a black high-tech gas mask on the bottom half of her face that glows a dark red.

Name Meanings

Himura (火村) - Fire Village 

Akari (明璃) - Bright Glass 

Aliases

“Cinder”

Younger Sister of the High-Rise Bomber 

Kari-chan - Touya 

Devilspawn, Unnatural, Freak, etc. - Various Foster Parents 

Biographical Info

Gender - Female

Age - 15

Birthday - November 9th 

Ethnicity - Japanese

Hair Color - Dark Red / Black (Dyed) 

Eye Color - Gold 

Height -  175cm / 5’8 

Weight -  101lbs / 46kg

Star Sign -  Scorpio 

Piercings -  Lobes, Double Helix 

Markings - Burn scars across her back, and upper arms, Lacerations across the back of her legs 

Family 

Father (Deceased)

Mother 

Older Half-Brother

Voiced By - SOYEON (Rapping)

Personality

Akari is a genius, a prodigy, and could revolutionize the world with her inventions....if anyone knew that about her that is. Akari could indeed use her intelligence to help the world but honestly, she doesn't give a damn. She actively hides her intelligence from the public and appears to show little interest in matters that are going on around her. However, Akari is highly determined when she sets her mind to a task, often dealing with any problems presented to her efficiently and competently.

Akari is a person of few words and highly values her privacy and many people view her as a negative, pessimistic, and sarcastic individual. Akari is also very apathetic and easily bored to an unhealthy and abnormal degree. Her troubled upbringing appears to have made her have a hard time actively expressing herself. Despite this, Akari is fiercely loyal and protective of the few people she cares about.

Whenever she’s out as Cinder, Akari is cunning, extremely manipulative, violent, and cruel. Destroying and wreaking havoc without a care in the world and using some of her crueler inventions on people. Many in the underworld fear her because she has no issue with killing if they get in her way. Another notable thing is her obsession with fire, and in fact, it seems to be far worse than Rintaro’s, although she has better control over it. 

Trivia

Akari has a vicious hatred of the foster care system. In no part due to when she was 8 years old her foster mother at the time attempted to drown her in the bathtub calling her nothing more than the devil's spawn. She retaliated by setting the house on fire with her foster mother trapped inside. 

She is best friends with Ryōhei Nakashima and frenemies with Nagisa Sano the younger brothers of Kobe's Ren Nakashima and Kaiji Sano respectively. They are one of the few besides her family that knows her identity.

She was given the offer to join Scorpion Den but to their surprise declined, stating "she already had a family" but is willing to join them in missions from time to time. 

An All Points Bulletin (APB) is currently out for her alter ego and is currently one of Chuohku’s most wanted criminals. 

She has a photographic memory and is able to recall things from when she was two. 

[lightstar789]

Stars and Smoke by Marie Lu: Review

Okay, the review y'all have been waiting for is finally here, and I'm ready to deliver! Obvious spoilers ahead, by the way.

MY OVERALL RATING: 3/5

My rating will be further broken down in the next couple of sections but let me just say...I kind of expected more from her, in terms of the whole spy concept and enemies-to-lovers romance, which are the main selling points of the novel, hence why my rating is lower than usual books by her. Additionally, there were just a couple things that irked me about this book that I can't ignore. Looking past all of that however, it is still an enjoyable read, and as a sucker for good action scenes and characters, she delivered!

THE GOOD:

THE ACTION:

Okay, can I just tell you how much I love authors that utilize their characters' normally unassuming abilities to make them extremely efficient in combat?? I LOVE how Winter's performance abilities (dancing, stage persona, choreography) always come in clutch whenever he's in a tight position. Though he's not naturally inclined to the spy life, he's still able to use his wits to think of a plan on the spot, like how he lied to Penelope about the location of her hairpin, and then broke out of his bonds using the private concert as reference. I also love how Sydney fights smarter, not harder, and always finds a way to make it out of every fight due to her lung condition. I've always admired characters that use their wits above all, despite being physically lacking in some aspects compared to their opponents, so all of that was *chef's kiss.*

THE CHARACTERS:

I could talk for hours and hours on end about how much each one of Marie Lu's characters have a chokehold on me, and this book is no different. I absolutely loved the roster of Panacea agents, and Winter's crew. I feel like this book did a better job at addressing all the side characters meaningfully than Skyhunter did (though let's be real, nothing will ever beat Warcross and TYE). I also liked how almost the entirety of the Morrison crew, sans Penelope, Leo, Eli and Connor are queer! Quite refreshing if you ask me!

Winter Young: The ML of the book. Going into the book, I initially thought he was gonna be a Day 2.0 but more full of himself. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised! For the most part he is more melancholy and raw than teasing. Part of what makes him such a compelling character is the fact that he constantly yearns for love and admiration in any form, because he'd been denied that for so long. His older brother Artie had been his last source of love before he died, before it all went up in flames for his family, with the amount of abuse and neglect he and his mother had to endure because of his dad. Because of this, Winter desperately tries to find ways that he can make a positive impact on the world other than his music and signing, and I find that a lot better than what I had initially expected!

Sydney Cossette: The FL of the book. There is a lot to talk about regarding her but it might not be as much as Winter considering her arc isn't exactly finished yet. While unfortunately she does fall victim to several annoying YA tropes at first, luckily, she grows out of them as the book progresses. She's described as someone who's constantly on the run from her issues in order for them not to interfere with her spy work, which she seems to take very seriously. Her lung condition is a painful reminder of her late mother, and the realization that she will always be hindered by it, especially when her job is so demanding. She is also kleptomaniac to gain control over something in her life, and is trying to beat back these instincts in order to remain an agent of Panacea. Sydney is logical and secretive, but secretly longs for love, just like Winter does, wanting to wear her heart on her sleeve outside of her career.

Now these two yearning for love and a genuine connection should make them palatable love interests, and the enemies-to-lovers certainly makes this couple compelling. Right? RIGHT???

Yeah, no. Which brings me to...

THE BAD & THE UGLY:

Suffice to say that there's nothing ugly about this book, but more so bad. These aspects here are the reason why I deducted two stars from the overall rating of this book.

THE ROMANCE:

Hoo boy. I went on about this for two hours with a couple others in the Skyhunter discord server last night. Lately, I've been noticing a downwards trend in the quality of Marie Lu's romances, and it's hard to believe that the same person who gave us Dune, Magelina, and Romaine (Emika deserves better than Hideo tbh, but they were cute) gave us Wydney and Redlin.

Oh yeah, by the way, during the Steelstriker review regarding the romance aspect of Redlin aspects of the book, I was fucking lying. All of my mutuals at the time LOVED Redlin and I didn't want to disappoint them by saying I found the romance aspect off. I might make a retrospective review of the Skyhunter duology soon, but only time will tell. For now...

PLEASE MAKE YOUR MAIN CHARACTERS PLATONIC FOR ONCE!! I'M BEGGING YOU!!

Winter and Sydney were just finally beginning to understand each other when I got hit with that ATROCIOUS make-out scene in Chapter 24. I'm not sure if its because of my inner aro-ace or the fact that she was FUCKING POISONED and THAT WAS THE LAST THING THEY SHOULD'VE BEEN DOING. Like?? Why make Wydney smush lips when they could've left it at the simple kiss it once began as??

Not only that, but I could tell the seeds for their mutual attraction were placed and that Lu tried so hard to make them a cute romance, but it just didn't work?? I know their story is nowhere near over in any means but I find it kind of weird that they're gonna make-out when they've only just begun to like each other.

Okay, rant over.

I love how Dameon and Winter are still amicable with each other, despite having broken up. It's honestly refreshing to see a couple that has parted ways, but are still close friends with each other, which doesn't happen very often (*VIOLENT ROMAINE FLASHBACKS*), so props to Marie Lu for this!

PLOT HOLE:

In hindsight, while I praised the worldbuilding of the Skyhunter duology, there were...so many plot holes retrospectively??? Thankfully there weren't as many plot holes this time, due to the modern setting but...

WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO AVOIDING THE LISTENING BUGS???

Okay I get that by the time of the check-in from Panacea, the poisoning and subsequent make-out scene in the middle of the hall, Eli Morrison was dead, but did they forget that Connor (and Penelope, as we later find out) were still listening to them?? Did they forget that they were undercover?? I'm honestly surprised none of this was addressed later, or this wasn't used against them, which is why I'm counting it as a plot hole.

THE PROSE:

Okay, I get that this is supposed to be a campy, light, novel, and honestly, I kinda needed that sort of thing after Skyhunter but did that give it the excuse to be written like a Wattpad fanfic?? Methinks not. Also, Marie Lu tends to forget the definition of subtlety a bit and hammer down the same adjectives with the same character so you always associate that character. I noticed it VERY prominently in Skyhunter with Jeran and here, with Dameon and it needs to stop for the sake of my mental health.

THE MOOD:

While this was meant to be written as a campy novel, certain aspects of the book like the SOUL CRUSHING ANGST :( made me want to take this book seriously...which is a recipe for a good whiplash when you're reading Chapter 7 and then get to the bickering and tension in Chapter 8. This isn't bad or ugly per se, just didn't know where to put it.

T - T

Okay, wow, that was a lot more writing than I was expecting, but what can you expect? It's me we're talking about! Anyway, I'd love to see what you guys think of the book, so please, reblog or reply to this post with your thoughts. See ya!

[drgreg]

Dr Gregory Hough

Carried out data assortment and contributed to the writing of this text. Furthermore, this research could counsel that college management ought to be made conscious of the significance of their behaviour and ought to be encouraged to indicate extra autonomous-supportive behaviour in direction of their teaching staff. The leaders must also design their jobs in such a means that they offer more autonomy to the lecturers. This may for example imply that, when the efficiency objectives have been agreed upon, the lecturers ought to be allowed the discretion to plan their very own technique of achieving targets. This could additionally be helpful as a end result of academics may think out of the field as to which higher method they will do to help the college, which can entail breaking some guidelines that are not useful at a given circumstances.

What a privilege to be part of this historic cruise, thank you, BirdLife SA and MSC Cruises ! A heart-warming expertise being amongst such passionate, generous, conservation-minded individuals having fun with a cruise into the Southern Ocean. Well accomplished Birdlife South Africa and Flock to Marrion. You actually are an excellent contributer to tourism and conservation.

‘Bring us some recent blood, in any other case you will drown in your individual blood’. Two months later Engela entered the workshop with her brother on the lookout for a job. By eight o’ clock the primary shoppers arrived and Sammy-Jo carried out as she had been taught. In her workroom, though, she told her client dr gregory hough she did not wish to be there and asked him to telephone the police. He pulled on his garments and went to inform the homeowners what had occurred. After she had gone again to her bed room and cried, one of many house owners went in, livid, and beat and slapped her.

Many children in South Africa develop up without a father and and not utilizing a paternal role-model, turn into exceedingly vulnerable, uncovered and labelled. A hierarchical regression evaluation was performed to examine the contribution of independent variables in explaining the dependent variable. It was also used to test for the moderating effect of danger propensity on the relationship between work characteristics and pro-social rule breaking. There is additional proof from numerous studies that work characteristic predicts pro-social rule breaking among the many staff. One such research was performed earlier in 1986 by Brief and Motoridro. In that research, the scholars examined a variety of pro-social organisational behaviours amongst them, defying guidelines for the sake of the benefit of the organisation, which forms a half of pro-social rule-breaking idea.

Another perspective advanced the view that danger propensity was one of the two main parts that elaborate the idea of threat, the opposite one being danger perception (Sitkin & Pablo, 1992). In this regard, threat propensity was viewed as a union between dispositional tendencies, cognitive inputs and past experience. Thus, a person’s risk taking degree could be taken as an accumulation of behaviours, psychological beliefs and what occurs over time in the lifetime of a person. Thus, danger propensity is the tendency of an individual to either take or avoid risk.

Sometime later that day two of the membership bosses came to her room. She jumped off the bed and hit certainly one of them on the chest, crying and screaming that she didn't wish to be there. They undressed her, pinned her down and took turns raping her. The next night dr gregory hough she must satisfy her first three purchasers. But that afternoon, earlier than her first session, her employers told her in their workplace that they would forgive her transgressions if she played her half.

We need more initiatives that combine tourism with conservation in order that each win. Well Done, Birdlife SA for putting collectively this particular experience that promotes a novel travel expertise whilst driving conservation initiatives. Real Tourism experiences change lives, this voyage did just that. This annual occasion is a wonderful opportunity for birdwatchers and nature lovers generally to take pleasure in this unique area. A variety of indigenous fowl guides have been sponsored for the trip, a commendable approach to broaden their birding basic data and meet different like minded people. I waited 15 years for the chance to take part in a pelagic birding experience.

The result confirmed that work traits had been an excellent predictor of pro-social rule breaking. In explicit, the results, as expected, present that when the academics are given high ranges of autonomy they'd break the rules if such breaking makes their teaching jobs more successfully. One of the notable arguments that has been advanced is that job complexity motivates folks to break a few of the rules and therefore could be thought-about to be a key antecedent of pro-social rule breaking. In this respect, Marcus and Schuler argued that at times the job could also be demanding in such terms as requiring an worker to produce a lot with little official support and even much inside a quick time.

This was the best experience I have ever had and I will bear in mind the superior Albatross sightings for as long as I reside. It was my greatest sea trip ever and it was a really particular experience. A superb journey and all the more exceptional given the covid scenario during the last two years. Hopefully there will be more journeys like this to come back. Such a pity I missed it, but it was an incredible initiative and enjoyed immensely by those who attended. Great mixture of journey journey and conservation.

Task autonomy is considered as a method of designing a job entailing degree to which an worker has discretion as to the way to do his or her task (Langfred & Moye, 2004). A job that accords an employee a excessive diploma of autonomy gives him or her freedom to schedule his or her work. Notably, task autonomy is extra particular than job autonomy for it contains freedom like scheduling their work and determining the path they take to hold out the work. In a faculty set-up, autonomy would, for example, entail permitting the academics to determine on how they'd execute their teaching position as soon as the time tables and educating load allocation has been carried out. Such a design is principally informed by the view that either the staff are thought of to be competent enough and they know precisely what it takes to carry out their obligation, or the top merchandise are extra necessary than the method.

[lexpressobean]

I've been thinking about these 3 alot...

... and how much they seem to really respect Shino. I know it's a filler, but, like... Why does it seem like Shino has a knack for finding children who have wondered off away from school? Like, he's just taking a walk, making his way around the village or surrounding forest, and then there they are. Kids playing hooky or some shit. And Shino just takes it upon himself to approach them and steer them back to where they should be, while getting them attached to him somehow in the process??

But honestly. If this was just one of many times this had happened, I'd say Shino does this not out of his knack for teaching or having a way with kids. Rather, he developed a way with kids and easily applies that to his teaching because he has a strong desire to simply protect children. And it's not even from some paternal instinct as much as survival, because I think it stems from the developing trauma of losing Torune to Danzo. And I don't think it's all subconscious either.

Like I know the novel and anime frames his desicion to teach as a sort of a new goal in life as the war has ended for a couple years already and a noticable Peace has been achieved by the Blank Period and well... He's an Aburame.

Like, the Aburame are literal living, breathing, walking bioweapons. With no fight to utilize that, what else is there? Well, much like the Nara have the Nara forest and Pharmacology specifically, The Aburame most likely have a historical stake in the area of Konoha, perhaps it was simply in their Ancestral Home. Idk, but they're here to stay, they ain't budging. They're Clan Culture is very Martial and I'd argue Spartan in nature, but otherwise, they do other things too. I think they'd do well as major players in the conservation and research of native species of animals and plants, but definitely insects too. I bet they play a huge part in the general area's ecosystem, especially due to the fact that the Kamizuru clan attacked with a whole clan's worth of non-native Hymenoptera that could very well have become and still are an irritatingly and consistent problem as invasive species tend to be. And as a far as goods go, why not put some of them to use and handle an apiary? Honey is a great good to sell. All of this is great as a clan that no longer needs to fight. But, what about individual members in general, and so Shino?

Well Shino is the Heir of this clan. This Noble Clan. This "ready to throw hands at any moment" clan. It's future is in his hands, so to speak. So I doubt Shino would completely sever his connection to Shinobi life all together. And so, teaching at the Academy would be a great way to keep that connection. Teachers have to know their stuff, after all.

But what if in order to ensure teaching was his calling, Shino did his absolute best to make Jounin ASAP so he could take on a Genin Team. And. And by chance, it ended up being these three?? And they are absolutely STOKED!!! And they also pass Shino's genin test, which... would probably be a feat in it's own right. But they already know Shino, and Shino has bestowed upon them some wisdom they actually took to heart! Yeah, well, in reality they might be just a tad too old to be Shino's first official genin squad, but they were still his squad one point in a sense, right?

Kon Nohara, Tano Ikemoto, and Aoki Kobayashi

I even gave them names help Imagine these three are already chuunin at least and decide they want to pay Shino a visit and even volunteer to help Shino during class time on a collective day off because they admire him so much (T~T)

But even then if not these three kiddos, maybe these three li'l shits lol

Even in times of Peace, Shino's special set of skills seem too useful to waste, and being a Jounin teacher would definitely have been a way he could still go on missions, but also definitely commit to becoming a Sensei at the academy once he was 100% sure and got older. Kurenai became a Jounin/Genin Squad Leader in her late twenties, but in comparison I see Shino doing that more mid-20s. (He needs some time to travel and find his big bug friend and generally live a little?)

Kurenai was a Genjutsu Specialist who manned a Tracker/Sensing based team. This sounds like it was a highly beneficial combination, even if she ended up being somewhat sadistic lol. Asuma was bound to Team 10 by Tradition as InoShikaCho and Sarutobi have that Pact together. Kakashi's team was literally Cherry Picked for him specifically by the 3rd Hokage. And Gai, a Taijutsu Specialist, had a team that Specialized in Taijutsu and Physical Offense.

Of all four teams, Kurenai and Gai were very suited to their teams, Gai in a complimentary way and Kurenai in a Challenging way. In that same vein, I think Shino would imitate Gai. Shino as a Shinobi himself has a general set of skills, but the way he goes about them are very niche. But, he was always very stealthy, and could sneak up on nearly anyone. Gags aside, he could go unnoticed as long as he wanted too, and by the time he was noticed or was ready to attack, he has you quite literally surrounded. Honestly I can see why Search and Destroy would be an Aburame's forte, but when there's no need, a person with a personal skill of high quality stealth could probably man a team with an emphasis on Reconnaissance and/or Surveillance, even Bodyguarding. I feel like Shino would probably put an emphasis on Stealth and Tracking too, utilizing his insects as sort of assistants that keep tabs on his students (Stealth Test) as well as to encourage just enough fear during too much down time in his students to inspire quality training opportunities, so maybe Kurenai rubbed off on Shino more than they all realized haha

(Plus I'm sure his students would be be smart and thoughtful enough to eventually understand what Shino and his bugs are: a complete unit. They realize just how strong and dedicated Sensei really is to be the way he is, and they all learn more in depth about Kikaichu and it's like WOW SENSEI YOU REALLY ARE RISKING BEING EATEN ALIVE EVERY SINGLE DAY, AREN'T YOU? But he's still here, because THAT'S how strong he's become over the years and the confidence to manipulate the Kikaichu while having to think of current chakra level, the most efficient use at any given time, how many he actually needs, how long usage will last, ect. They are high maintenance, man!)

Shino would no doubt produce highly skilled Bodyguards and Masters of Stealth. Maybe the type that would end up being in high demand for the eventual Celebrities that start to pop up as times change, but still very much needed when it comes to Criminal Activity, like in Sora-Ku?

But as time passes and he decided to teach at the Academy, he'd feel very at ease to do so. He'd be happy to be put in charge of all these children, because he would be able to help teach them things they need to know to defend themselves and others in a world where adults like Danzo had and will continue to exist. Maybe while he's at it, he'd use his stance as a Noble Clan Heir and accomplished Shinobi to push for changes in government with Sai's help and with Naruto and Shikamaru's cooperation? Like, the truth does come out, everyone on the Council were actually horrible and had too much power. So HERE are some ideas and REASONS why these ideas should be implemented because Shino's not going to let his brother's life and death be in vain!? HELL no, we WILL make some changes around here. Shino sees his students and just wants a future where no kid ever has to live in fear of being completely taken advantage of by the very system that was supposed to keep them safe and they pledged allegiance to.

I cannot help but think of the quiet but absolute fear little Shino was harboring for the years to come after Torune was taken by that strange man and Father Shibi didn't even attempt to stop him. His own father didn't dare beat the shit out of this strange man who came looking for him, and the only solution for Shino to stay was for Torune to make himself look more desirable as an asset and be taken instead. I bet there was a lot of misplaced resentment there for a while, and talks that just didn't happen. Maybe a classmate doesn't show up to class one day and Shino is IMMEDIATELY stressed out and just... takes it upon himself to look for them after class. And he's relieved when he see they're simply at home with a fever. Shit like that just fucks with Shino, because theres people taking kids and no one is doing anything about it?? And then as Shino grew older he realized exactly what happened and how slimy the machine of Konoha really is and it was never completely Shibi's fault that Torune had to leave. He grows mentally at a faster rate than most of his classmates, and knows more than a kid really needs to know.

Shino doesn't want that for any other child. Shino is the kind of person who hears kids screaming outside of his house and he can't tell if they're playing or being murdered and it's stressful to the point he'll check through his window and he sees them for himself. He get stressed out seeing a kid in public unattended and WANTS to approach them to help if need be but also maybe he's overthinking it and the parents are there somewhere and he'd just end up looking suspicious. Like, that's what I kind of figure for Shino. He's so hyperaware of the power dynamic between kids and adults and seeing a kid so ready to fall victim to that makes Shino feel ill the more he thinks of what could happen. And he wonders if watching the kid in the market until they finally reunite with their parent so he could move on with the rest of his day causes him even a fraction of the the utterly disgusting flurry of nerves and fear that Shibi must have felt all those years ago. It goes along with his desire to spare every single little insect's life he can. It goes a long with the fact he only gets violent unless absolutely necessary. Like he wants to be strong but he doesn't want to go mad with power either, less he becomes the very thing that hurt him and his family in the first place.

Originally Shino wanted to become strong to be able to defend himself because at a very young age adults failed him and Torune. But then that changes to defend not only himself, but others as he grows on a team, and realizes trust is important. And then he figured if there must be adults out there that would hurt a child, it's only logical that he should become one that would only nurture and teach one to be strong as well.

Anyway, yeah. Had some feelings. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[alderaani]

conceal don’t feel

Summary: Fox removes his helmet in front of Riyo for the first time, and she very much likes what she sees. | AO3 

Pairing: Foxiyo, no warnings.

A/N: I’m not even really sure where this came from, but it has been all my brain wanted to write for the past two days, so.......here she is.

Riyo knew what it was like to fall.

It was a rite of passage on Pantora to climb the cliffs outside the capital, the only high point disturbing the tarnished gleam of the marshlands for hundreds of miles. It usually took adolescents several tries to reach the top and Riyo had been no different, just one of many amongst the blue-and-purple sea of her peers. She’d been fifteen then, straddling the cusp of adulthood and desperate to prove herself. How funny, now, that she wanted to peel back a decade and tell that young girl to slow down, not rush, to cling on to her youth.

The day of her climbing she’d been so impatient, so sure that she would be among the first to reach the top. It had lasted as long as it took to leave the ground before all ambition had been wiped away, the world narrowing down to the tips of her fingers, the pads of her toes and the way she sought out crevices in which to place them. She wasn’t the first to fall, nor was she the last. The memory was sharp and clear, like the cold air near the top of the ridge, where the birds took flight from their nests and swirled, screaming, around their earthly intruders. She’d hesitated a beat too long, her fingers sliding on the slick rock, and then there had been the lurch of her stomach dropping out, the white noise of terror supernovaing inside her skull. The split second of free-fall, of feeling totally and utterly weightless, before gravity had set in. The sudden finality of the drop, of the way the air rushed through her horrifyingly empty fingers.

The ropes had caught her, of course, along with the eager, guiding hands of her friends, and before long she’d been stood on the peak, feeling the wind corral the backs of her legs and pull teasingly at her hair, victory surging in her gut. But the feeling had stayed with her - that long, eternal moment, like a drawn in breath.

It was the sort of thing most people didn’t experience twice. But now here she was, staring into Commander Fox’s face and stepping into free fall.

“Senator?” He was saying, his hands firm and solid on the curves of her shoulders. Her poncho had gone awry in the bomb blast that had shattered her windows and put the Senate into lockdown, and he pulled up the edges and tucked them round her almost absentmindedly. She shivered at the feeling of his gloved fingers brushing over her naked skin, despite the blunt efficiency of the touch.

“Senator Chuchi?” The commander repeated, his hands going tight. “Senator?”

When she didn’t reply, unable to do anything but stare, he released one of her shoulders in favour of putting his commlink to his mouth.

“I need a medic here stat. Think the Senator’s going into shock.”

That was enough for her to shake her head, feeling the scrape of her hair pieces against her scalp where they’d gone awry. Pulling some sort of composure together out of the rubble was harder, though she did her best seeing the worry in those brown eyes.

Was this always what he looked like under that helmet? Was there always so much feeling, fleeting and raw across his naked face? She was so used to having to parse out his emotions from the slant of his shoulders, the tight motions of his hands, the hard shape of his voice, that so much bare skin was almost overwhelming. 

“Sorry, Commander, I’m well,” she murmured. His eyes were a brown she’d seen literally a thousand times, but somehow were completely different. The full lashes, the little creases developing at the corners, the flecks of gold sitting bold at their centres. The hard, piercing gaze that was all Fox, breathtaking without his helmet in the way. It was almost worth the ruin her office had been turned into to have seen the strong line of his jaw, the soft streaks of grey hair developing at his temples. His lips looked chapped and raw, and a not-insignificant part of her wanted to touch them with her thumb. 

“Senator, you’ve been staring at me for five minutes,” Fox informed her flatly, voice deep and scratchy with a bass that the vocoder must usually filter out. “And - kriff, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Riyo reached up to touch her face, then squeaked when Fox caught her wrist and reached into his utility belt for a tissue, which he used to dab at her hairline. There was a flash of pain as it came away dark, and the cold night air funnelling through the open window sharded against her bare skin, sending shivers wracking through her body.

“Oh,” she breathed, as Fox cursed and pressed the tissue back down. As he shifted she caught sight of a thin line of red beading on his cheekbone and tilted her head. “You’re bleeding too.”

“Just stay still, Senator,” Fox said, ignoring her comment in favour of glancing over his shoulder and shifting so that his body was between her and the door. His uncovered curls lifted as a fresh gust of wind blew in, his shoulders hunching. She saw him glance at his helmet more than once, resting by his feet with the visor shattered, and considered how odd this must be for him too as she let herself be manhandled away from the window to one of the plush green chairs in the corner, stained now and blackened with soot. 

“I’ve never seen your face before. It’s very nice,” she said before she could help it, fighting the urge to clap her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or to phrase it like he’d picked it at a store. 

Usually she was so careful around the Commander, so choosy with what she said. Riyo had learned early on that blunter commentary would make Fox withdraw, turning him back into a professional pillar of plastoid and paint. Too many nights of him leading her escort back to her apartment had gone by in silence before she’d mastered the knack of weedling him into polite conversation, like luring a baby loth-cat into the open. 

She liked him - liked the way the harsh things seemed to roll impassively off his back, the way he turned to stone should anyone cross him or his brothers, the plainness of his feelings when you knew how to look. She didn’t know why she’d felt so compelled to learn his tells, and he hadn’t invited her in as much as she’d bothered to knock. Commenting on his face, bared without permission, felt much more like picking the lock and forcing entry to the tight facade he so carefully maintained.

It seemed to be a night for surprises, though. Fox just tilted his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You’ve seen several of the Guard, before, yes?”

Riyo nodded, then winced as it sent pain skittering down her neck. Fox noticed, of course, and moved one hand to support the base of her skull while he continued to press down on the wound. Now that he’d mentioned it she could feel the blood trails tickling as they dried down her cheek. 

“Then you have seen my face, Senator. I got the standard GAR issue, same as everyone else.”

She shook her head before she could think better of it, and realised suddenly that she was trembling, shivers wracking up her arms. Perhaps the Commander was onto something with his assertion of shock. 

“Now that’s not true at all,” she murmured, aware that she was setting herself up for another fall but unable to stop the words tumbling out. “Now that I know it, I’d recognise yours anywhere, Fox.” 

His brow crinkled, concern burning bright in those pretty eyes, and she realised, distantly and unable to care much, that she’d never called him by name before. Not without ‘Commander’ attached, at least. He raised his commlink again. 

“What the Sith-hells is taking so long, Oops? Get your shebs up to level fifty now,” he hissed, then pressed down firmly when she shifted again. “Please stay still.” 

“I’m cold,” Riyo said quietly, closing her eyes briefly until Fox made a low sound and shook her, just a little. 

“Come on Senator, keep talking to me. Are you sure there’s no medkit in here?” He asked.

Riyo gestured at the still-smouldering remains of her desk. “There was one in the third draw down.” 

Fox cursed, soft and sharp, and despite the cold and the way her head was swimming, it made her giggle. 

“Sorry Commander,” Came a panting, tinny voice. “I’m in the stairwell now, moving to your location. It’s chaos down here, ‘m gettin’ run over by half the karking Senate.” 

“Tell him corridor 847 is always empty,” Riyo murmured. “The maintenance tunnel half way down pops out just opposite my aide’s office.” 

Fox raised an eyebrow but dutifully relayed the message, getting a laugh and an affirmative from the medic on the other end. 

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, instantly regretting it when Fox’s expression shuttered. “No - I mean - you can laugh. I suppose it’s silly, but sometimes it’s the only way to avoid Senator Bronn. I climb in there with a datapad and pretend I’m out until he leaves. Courageous of me, isn’t it?” 

Fox’s forehead creased. “Is he giving you trouble?”

Riyo laughed weakly. “No, no, it’s very kind of you to worry, Commander. He just likes to talk too much and orders the worst food - some sort of delicacy from his home, I think, but they taste awful. And it would cause offence to refuse.”

There was a short pause before Fox’s lips stretched into a small grin, his head ducking as if to hide it from view. 

“So you hide in the maintenance halls?”

Riyo couldn’t help the answering smile that burst onto her face, even as her cheeks went hot. Their gazes met, and the jolt that ran through her was electric before she forced herself to look away. She swallowed thickly. 

“I’ve never liked confrontation,” she shrugged. “So where I can, I avoid it. Perhaps not the best trait in a Senator.”

Where Fox’s hand still cupped the back of her neck she felt the gentlest pressure, the quick sweep of a thumb against the dip of her spine. 

“Seems like we could sometimes do with more of that to me,” he said, voice soft but still amused. At this distance she could see the light stubble on his cheeks, a small scar on the bridge of his nose that had paled with time, the deep purple shadows ringing his eyes. 

Riyo stilled, lost again in the thrill of every little detail, and still hadn’t responded by the time they heard a thump and a yelp from outside the door. Fox rolled his eyes, but she could see the tension drain out of his shoulders.

“That’ll be Oops.” 

She smiled. “A promising name.”

Fox smirked. “He’s one of our best, Senator. I’ll let him in.” 

The cold rushed back in from the moment he let her go, but she could almost still feel the imprint of his hand on her skin, the weight of his eyes on her. Fox stood from where he’d been kneeling next to the chair, then turned to go to the blast door.

Riyo cleared her throat.

“Commander Fox?” 

He turned, the emergency lights slanting red over the bridge of his nose. 

“I meant it - what I said. You do have a pretty face. And I’d recognise it anywhere, GAR standard issue or not.” 

It seemed awfully important that he know, right now, before this moment ended, even though she couldn’t articulate why. She had to let him know that it mattered; that for however little it was worth, considering what she was and what the system she was part of made him do, she could see him. 

“I think that may be your head wound talking, Senator. But...thank you.”

He raised his hand towards the control panel, his head ducked, but as he pressed a button and the lights went green, Riyo could see the shy, bashful smile forming on his lips. 

She could only hope that he’d deem her worthy of that great privilege again.

taglist: @simping-for-fives @leias-left-hair-bun @nelba @iscream4clones @dom-i-nic @battletales | list here

[consumedkings-archive]

THE LAND OF GODS AND DEVILS, a sequel.

—part i.

word count: 6k

rating: m for now, rating will change in later chapters as things develop, tags will be updated accordingly.

warnings: naughty language, massively canon-divergent, roman gets his own tag because he's a fucking nutso, canon-typical violence, established relationship that might not be the healthiest, age gap, domestic murder family. for this chapter in specific, roman likes to take things to the Extreme (i.e., "i'm going to fucking kms if you say this word one more time") but if you're here i imagine you know exactly what he's about.

notes: it's here! i know that most of my followers and friends on here are my friends through my far cry 5 content, but my return to the fic-writing world was inspired by my first longfic in a decade after watching birds of prey. you could say, perhaps, that i have a Type(TM), given that roman sionis lives rent free in my head forever and always. this is the sequel to my work carry your throne, though i like to think it's fairy user-friendly, especially once we really get into the thick of it.

special thank you goes to my beta and the loml, @starcrier; the first person to ever truly recognize varya for the wretched little beast that she is and love her anyway. thank you for being my beta and for loving my girl!

and, of course, another special thanks goes to @shallow-gravy, @vasiktomis, @faithchel, @tomexraider, and @belorage for being so supportive of my foray out of the far cry fandom and back into one that, in a way, brought me here in the first place!

summary: —by dread things, compelled.

roman sionis is the closest he has ever been to having everything that he wants; a perfect wife, a perfect family, a perfect international black-market arms dealing business signed over to him in its entirety. unfortunately for him, there are people in the world who would prefer to see him without, and that has never been a thing that roman has accepted for himself: being without.

(or: a fic wherein the devil spends his time rebuking sin.)

“If one more person says the word ‘chandelier’ in my presence,” Roman announced, drawing all eyes to him, “I'm going to blow my fucking brains out. Got it?”

There was a brief moment of silence that lapsed before the murmured acquiescence of the workers marked their return to their work. Blowing hot air from his mouth, Roman raked his fingers through his hair and turned back around to where Zsasz was watching him expectantly.

“What?” He demanded. “It’s my wife’s birthday.” Emphasis on the my, not the wife; it was not a favor Roman was doing for Varya, it was something he was doing for himself.

“V told them she wanted it.” Zsasz gestured to the offensive piece of lighting, which continued to haunt Roman’s waking and dreaming hours with its garish crystalline drippings and expensive bulbs. Ever since Varya had found out his fluctuating approval of the chandelier, it had been in and out of the Black Mask Club more times than he could count. Not that he needed to; he could very well put in or rip out a stupid fucking light fixture as many times as he wanted.

“Well.” Roman pulled a glass out from behind the bar, setting it on the top and dropping an ice cube into it. “She does so love to torture me.”

“It's just a—”

“Do you want my fucking guts on the floor, Zsasz? I mean it. Say the word and I’ll do it.”

The blonde regarded him drily. “No, boss.”

“Blood and guts everywhere.” Roman gestured widely with his free hand. “All over the floor. The bar top. You’ll have to clean it up. Maybe wipe down some of the bottles.”

“I won’t say it.”

“I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to get blood out of the carpet.”

Zsasz’s mouth quirked up in a smile. It said, without saying anything at all, no, you don’t. More agreeably, and with the flash of pearly whites and the capped tooth: “Sure.”

Roman poured well over what would have been considered the polite amount of expensive scotch into his glass, capping the bottle and setting it aside. It had been exactly twenty-four hours of making sure the club was perfectly polished and styled for Varya's birthday; though she was shrewd, she was so preoccupied with the twins and the lawyers and overseas business associates that she barely seemed to notice whatever was coming in and out of the Black Mask Club. He didn’t think she’d had a baby nor a phone out of her hands in over two days, and truthfully, it was starting to become tedious. Now that the twins were a little over a year old, they were supposed to be scheduling their honeymoon.

The delay of it hadn’t been a big deal, at the start. But everyday with you feels like my honeymoon, Varya had demurred months before the twins’ arrival, fluttering her lashes and gliding her fingers along the lapel of his jacket—and not even an hour after she’d curtly informed him that any more chatter, while she was nursing a headache, would be met with a swift and efficient extraction of his vocal cords by her own hands. Motherhood was supposed to have domesticated her, Roman thought, and had done the exact opposite; now, she was more assured of her status and power than ever.

So, yes; Varya had been busy, and he was almost certain she’d forgotten her own birthday. Never mind that everything had to be perfect. Never mind that it had to be immaculate. Never mind that Varya had deigned to order a brand new fucking chandelier from the same place they’d gotten one last time, knowing full well that he had made the executive decision to gut the fucking thing and get it out of his club.

“Tell you what, Zsasz,” Roman muttered, taking a swallow of the amber liquid in his glass, “don’t ever get fucking married. You want someone knowing all the shit that pushes your buttons all the time?”

“Maybe you just got a button pusher for a wife.”

Roman grimaced and took another swallow. It was true. “Fuck off.”

The blonde opened his mouth to say something else—and hadn’t he gotten confident in himself too, since Varya had become such a permanent fixture in their life, constantly goading and coercing him to voice his opinion on things, things that normally he would just defer to Roman on—when the doors to the stairwell and the elevator opened.

Eclipsing the doorway was Armazd, Varya’s hand-picked-from-the-batch-of-Russians-left-over-guard. Armazd had to be easily cresting six-foot-five, his dark beard neatly trimmed and peppered with silver, a scar breaking the color of his top lip. Roman had only ever seen the man swathed in dark clothes, like a fucking mourner on parade. His wife had been the one picked to be the twins' nanny, despite the fact that Roman felt like she barely did anything.

Also hand-picked. Thoroughly vetted. Interrogated for hours. No stone left unturned, when it came to Yuli and Ro.

“What are you doing down here?” Roman barked, coming around the side of the bar to make his way across the room. “You’re supposed to be going up and keeping—”

“She is coming down,” Armazd clarified. “In the elevator. Irina called to tell me.”

“Instead of stopping her?”

“She was—”

The elevator dinged in the hallway, and Roman quickly ducked around Armazd and closed the door into the club behind him. As soon as the doors slid open, he planted a smile on his face and closed the distance between himself and his wife.

Nobody would know, looking at Varya, that she not only barely utilized the nanny that they had furiously vetted and now paid handsomely, but that on top of juggling their twins she was actively in the process of getting a massive, international gun-running business signed over in his name. There was not a single hair out of place, not a single crease or rumple in the sapphire-blue silk of her blouse or skirt; the scent of her preferred jasmine perfume followed her like a cloud. She looked as put-together as the day he’d first seen her standing in his club.

And now, he desperately needed her to stay out of it.

“Kitten,” he greeted warmly, his hands—though gloved—immediately scratching the itch by reaching for her; they captured hers to carefully still her procession to the club’s main room. “What are you doing down here? I thought you’d be busy for hours.”

“Yuliana has been fussing nonstop,” Varya replied, her voice light despite what could only have been an expression of frustration quickly following, “all while I listen to grown men fussing nonstop at me on the phone.”

Roman feigned a sympathetic noise, bringing her hands up to his mouth to kiss them. “We have a nanny, V.”

“You know better than anyone else,” the brunette murmured, brushing her nose against his as their hands dropped, “that she is inconsolable without you.”

He tried not to look too pleased. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Don’t be modest, Romy.”

“Well, I’ll come up, of course.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “And console our princess.” Another kiss, to the other corner. “So that you can continue letting grown men fuss at you.”

She beamed at him prettily, and finally they met in the middle for a real kiss—nothing coy, nothing demure, but lingering warm and just between the two of them.

“I love you,” she purred. “Go on, then.”

And then Varya pulled away, as though to go around him and into the club, and Roman blinked rapidly. He had only just caught her around the waist before she could walk in and pulled her in a full one-eighty until she was facing the elevator again.

“What are you doing?” she asked, a laugh bubbling out of her. “I was just going to make myself a drink.”

“Encouraging productivity,” Roman replied, hitting the button for the elevator doors to open again. “Ready for all this paperwork to be done, aren’t you? It’s been over a year.”

A year of wading through mafia-esque bureaucracy. A year of listening to Varya say, these things take time. A busy year, to be sure, jam-packed full of things—the biggest wedding in Gotham since its founding, the twins.

A funeral.

Roman tried more and more every day not to think about his (now) brother-in-law’s funeral, the double burial of the only man that might have stood a chance at being loved by Varya more than Roman himself and the only man who had ever been anything like a father figure to her. Family is tedious, he’d wanted to say, brothers and fathers and mothers, the whole lot of them, cut them loose why don’t you? Why should anyone matter to you outside of the twins and I?

Varya glanced at him over her shoulder. “These things take time.”

He rolled his eyes. “Mhm.”

“Not to mention, we were a little busy,” she added, eyes narrowing playfully as he nudged her into the elevator, “you know—having children.”

“And what beautiful children they are.” Roman hit the button without looking, the doors sliding shut behind him.

“Well, how am I supposed to suffer through those phone calls without a stiff drink?”

He quirked a brow upward. “I’ll make you a stiff drink, Mrs. Sionis.”

The brunette propped herself up against the back rail of the elevator as it whirred into motion. The corner of her mouth, painted ruby, curved and her head tilted inquisitively. “Oh?”

“Of course,” he demurred, sidling forward and boxing her in against the wall. “I’ll make you a stiff drink—”

He dropped his head to the slope of her jaw to plant a kiss there.

“—you’ll finish up with the lawyers, and put on the dress I bought you—”

Varya hummed and sighed sweetly.

“—we’ll go out to dinner for your birthday—”

He dropped his hands to her hips, planting a kiss on her temple so that he could rumble, “And we can get to work on baby number three, hm?”

A sweet laugh billowed out of her just as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open to bring to Roman the oh-so-sweet sounds of a caterwauling infant. Over the distressed crying was Irina’s voice, shushing and cooing dulcet words in Russian; he could see her swaying to and fro with a swathe of fabric bundled in her arms.

“I almost forgot about my birthday,” Varya said thoughtfully, completely unrattled by the sound of their daughter’s distress. She stepped out from between him and the elevator wall; Roman fell into step beside her easily, the sound of her heels clipping against the floor enough to draw Irina’s eyes to them.

Roman said, “I know you did,” and did not bother to hide his smugness as he held out his arms for the shrieking baby in Irina’s arms. The redhead regarded him with a sort of weary amusement before she acquiesced; with Yuliana safely in his arms, he watched Varya cross the room to turn the automatic rocker that held their son back on to a slow, lulling pace. The freckled infant babbled happily—ever the quieter of the twins—and as Varya said something to Irina in Russian that inspired the woman to depart to the kitchen, she absently picked up a baby blanket from the couch and wandered over to him.

“Yuli,” she murmured, waving her finger at the already-content infant, tucking the blanket around her “is that all you wanted, hm? Just for your papa to hold you?”

“What else could she want for?” he replied confidently. Soothing Yuliana’s fury had become old-hat for him at this point. And, certainly, it pleased him to know that sometimes, the only thing that would make his daughter stop screaming was being held by him. Not even Varya—who had taken to motherhood like a fish to water—bothered when she was in a fit.

Still, the brunette sighed dreamily, her finger captured by their daughter’s tiny hand before she said, “What a perfect little gem.”

Roman hummed his agreement. “Finishing that call with the lawyers?”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Varya replied. “They’re in a mood today.”

“They’re in a mood every day.” Russians, he thought venomously.

“Yes.” She smiled, flashing pearly teeth at him. “But only today is my birthday.”

She had him there. Still, he was itching for the whole thing to be done—Ilarion had dragged his feet through the process of even drawing up the original contract, which had only been a spit in his face (“You are the only person who gets to fuck Varya Astakhova, that is as exclusive as it gets”) and by the time all of that nasty business had been wrapped up, Ilarion was dead.

Ilarion, and Nikita—leaving only a single living soul to be in charge of the Astakhov empire: Varya herself.

Which, she had expressed time and time again, she had no desire for; not in the public way that her father had done it, and Ilarion after them. She much preferred the clerical work of it all. Paperwork and public relations. Let the men do men’s work, she’d demurred one night, tangled up in their sheets, when he’d asked her what she was going to do with it. I don’t mind. They like me better as their madonna, anyway.

“You know,” she continued, breaking him out of his thoughts as she made her way to the bar cart, pouring herself a drink, “they will like you more if it’s you they’re talking to.”

“I don’t give a fuck if they like me or not,” Roman replied, lifting Yuliana with both of his hands so that he could look at her. “Isn’t that right, princess? Mommy gets to do all the paperwork so that your papa can spend all of his time with you, instead of listening to some dumbfucks bitch and moan on the phone.” He glanced at her. “Well, anyway, since it’s your birthday we can let it slide.”

“Very generous of you.”

“Get dressed, won’t you?” he prompted, depositing his now-content daughter in the mobile swing with her brother. “The table’s been ready for us since noon.”

Varya watched him, dark eyes glittering amusedly. “And why, my darling, did you make the reservation for noon? It’s nearly six now.”

“Because,” he replied, “I wanted to make sure they held it, regardless of how long it took us to get there.”

“Ah.” She lifted her chin a little, lashes fluttering with contentment when he reached up and brushed the hair from her face. “Or else?”

Roman flashed her a grin.

“Or else.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They held the table.

“Good for them,” Roman said as they followed the server out onto the balcony. The table had clearly been refreshed—a new candle, a new vase, a new bucket of ice and bottle of champagne. He’d heard the waitstaff whispering furiously among themselves as they idled in the lobby to be taken to their table; now, settled across from the birthday girl, Roman was content with the way they had squirmed.

“Quicker than the two-hour wait last time,” Varya noted by way of agreement, smoothing her hand along the edge of the tablecloth.

He scoffed. The only reason they had waited in the lobby for two hours was because Varya had asked him to stay for the table she wanted. If it had been his way, they would have left with a bloody warning and gone somewhere else. “I can’t believe I finally convinced you to leave the twins home for a night and we got stuck sitting in that fucking lobby because they gave our table away.”

“In my defense, they are good babies, Romy. Hardly ever cry. Certainly not too much trouble.”

“But there’s two of them,” he replied, “and toting two babies around is a lot of work. All I’m saying is, what’s the point of paying her that much fucking money if we’re just going to—”

The waiter came by the table, clearly a little stressed; the lines of concern on his face were clear as he cleared his throat and said, “Should I come back?”

Varya, perusing the menu: “No, my darling, you may stay. You were saying, Romy?”

“I just don’t know why we’re shoveling money into her bank account for her to be a glorified accent chair in our house rather than a nanny.” Roman gestured to the champagne bottle expectantly. “Open it.”

The waiter did as he asked, having been standing there uncomfortably for a moment during their exchange. As he worked to carefully open the champagne bottle, Roman turned his attention back to Varya; her eyes remained on the menu, absently twisting the engagement and wedding band on her finger back and forth.

There was no way, he thought, that she was putting off getting the business signed over to him on purpose. Surely, there was no way; even when Ilarion was alive, even when she had anticipated no further problems, it had always been, if you’re going to be my romantic partner, it seems only right you’d be my partner in business too, don’t you think? And yet—

And yet, Roman could not push down the strange, hazy doubt that occasionally flickered through his mind. He had always wanted Varya, had always found himself wanting and wanting and wanting more and more often, and Varya had always seemed content to indulge him. There was, it seemed, nothing she enjoyed more than indulging him. One more kiss, one more minute in bed, one more lingering glance across the room. She was the absolute pinacle of his hedonism, in every sense of the word, and had proven time and time again that she would give him anything that he wanted.

The business had always been for her and Ilarion. He wanted it, and told her he did, and she said, you can have it, if you like, but like in all things, there was a slyness about his wife—a cruelty—that he found endearing and dangerous. Dangerous, because it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d been on the other end of her cruel nature, playfully poking and unwinding and tugging the thread loose until she had pushed him to the limit.

Something echoed in his head, and he realized that the waiter was asking him what he wanted to eat. Varya had handed the menu over and steepled her fingers, watching him with dark, curious eyes and red painted lips, sooty lashes fluttering. A pretty, painted little snake.

“I’ll take whatever she’s having,” Roman said after a moment, setting his menu aside and returning his attention to the brunette across from him. “Something interesting, kitten?”

“Can I not just appreciate my husband?” Varya demurred. “You’re wearing the suit I like best, after all.”

“It is your birthday. What greater gift is there than me?”

She laughed, delighted by him—as she always was—and took a sip of her champagne. “You were away from me, for a moment.”

He watched her, gauging her carefully. Even I know not to drop my pants when a viper opens its mouth, Bianchi had said, just before Varya had unloaded six rounds into his face and chest less than two feet away from him.

“Just thinking,” is what Roman said finally.

“Hm. A dangerous past time.”

His expression flattened, deadpan. “It’s taken a significant chunk of time to secure your father’s business in my name.”

Something flickered across Varya’s expression. at the word father. “To secure my business,” Varya replied, her voice abrupt and cutting, her eyes narrowed, “in your name.” Absently, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked to be composing herself, like she’d spoken on a knee-jerk reaction rather than with thinking.

Then, glossy and silken again: “You know your patience means the world to me, Romy.”

There was nothing that he loved more than watching her pull back her venom for him. Drumming his fingers against the top of the table, Roman bridled his own irritation to say, mildly, “I’d do anything for you. Even wait...” He made a thoughtful noise. “Over a year to finally take on the responsiblities you wanted handed over to me.”

“Of course.” Varya smiled prettily, absently straightening out her silverware. “And we will speak no more of my father on my birthday, or any day after this.”

He knew what that meant. She phrased it pretty, wrapped it up in silk and velvet and presented it to him as unassuming as a doe, but he knew what that meant. There is my button, she was saying, there is my trip wire. Don’t push it, Roman. The name Nikita had all but been banned in their household, even when funeral arrangements were being made; any time he’d heard one of the lawyers mention her father’s name, there had been a sharp rebuke. Not in my presence, she would tell him later, I do not want to hear that fucking name in my presence.

“At any rate, there is nothing that I want more than for this whole process to be done,” she continued lightly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “It was always what I wanted, you know. Ilya was better suited to be a functional piece of the business; he was the face because he had to be, not because he wanted to be, and I am better suited for the nitpicking and the details. Being the overseer is much more in your circle of talents, Romy.”

Her words assauged something unsettled and prickly in him, the sweep of the pad of her thumb across the back of his hand returning that doubtful monster in his mind back to its slumber. He sighed.

“You’re right,” he acquiesced after a moment, “it is more in my circle of talents.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“I always got the impression Ilarion wasn’t happy with it,” he added. “Though you two certainly enjoyed making work of me that first night, didn’t you?”

Varya smiled demurely. “It was never meant to make work of you, only to make a good impression.”

“Hm,” he replied, eyes narrowing playfully, “but you enjoy pushing me, V.”

She looked pleased. She always did, when he remarked on something that felt like he was really seeing her, beneath the glossy veneer. His girl did so love being seen.

“Only,” V demurred, “because you so enjoy reining me in.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Roman brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before relinquishing it and glancing around. He would just have to exercise patience, of which he had the most; patience, modesty, and humility, all excellent qualities that he could participate in at will, at any given time. Without any restraint.

“Did the men get the chandelier installed?” Varya idled, snapping his attention back to her. He narrowed his eyes.

“I told you I didn’t want a chandelier anymore.”

She looked at him across the table, dark doe eyes wide and innocent. “I thought you liked how polished they make the club.”

“No, you little viper,” Roman replied, clicking his tongue, “Paolo has a chandelier in his club, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to have people comparing it.”

“Ah,” she murmured, “the drama of the chandelier goes on.”

“And while we’re at it, might as well gut that one from the estate, too.”

“There’s more than one chandelier in there.”

“Then the men will be busy, won’t they?” He tsked his tongue. “I know you dream about watching me blow my top, V, but I’m making an executive decision on gaudy light fixtures.”

A smile flashed across her expression, pearly teeth and delighted eyes. She sighed, almost dreamily, like there was nothing more that she liked than to be doing this exact thing, and with him.

“Oh, Romy,” the brunette said sweetly, “you are the only thing I dream about.” And then, almost as an after thought: “Gaudy light fixture terrorism included.” She waved her hand to dismiss any protest or rebuttal he might have given her and said, “Now, since it’s my birthday, tell me all of the things you love the most about me.”

Roman sucked his teeth, eyeing her for a moment as he leaned back in the chair. Wicked little thing, waiting to preen and glow under his attention, a feline seeking him out. Her little bout of cruelty before was already forgiven. He said, “We’re going to be here for a while, if I do that.”

“They held the table for over six hours,” Varya demurred, “I’m sure they’ll hold it for as many more as you need.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

By the time they got to the club, Varya was acting as though nothing had happened.

Truthfully, Roman preferred it that way. It just also left a lot of room to wonder—his wife was a talented actress, adept at smoothing his ruffled feathers out and not divulging her own feelings on the matter. And he wouldn’t ask, of course. If Varya wanted to express herself, she would, and had, quite openly in the past.

“I am so happy to be home,” she announced, gliding past the door to the club once Roman had opened it for her. “Do you think the babies are asleep, yet? I always miss putting them...”

Her voice trailed off, pausing a little as she seemed to realize that the club was cloaked in inky darkness, freezing just a few steps past the threshold. Roman let the door swing shut behind him, nudging her forward with a hand at the small of her back. He was met with some resistance; she steeled, stiffening against his insistence, before taking a few steps forward.

He said, barely keeping the delight out of his voice, “You’re holding up the line, V.”

“Roman,” Varya said, her voice pitched oddly soft and tight, “why—?”

The lights flashed on to a loud, unified cheer of Happy Birthday!; the club had been packed with vases of flowers, the tables donned with food and drink, and everyone worth their salt within a fifty-mile radius had made their way there. Not a single thing was out of place—everything exactly where he had instructed it be placed, and not a fucking chandelier in sight.

Roman came around in front of the brunette, grinning. “Happy—”

He stopped. Varya’s expression was not happy, or even surprised; it was something else, something that he couldn’t read, the pupils of her hot-whiskey eyes blown wide and the normally Renaissance-soft lines of her face sharpened and hardened into an expression that was more vicious.

“V?” he asked. Her eyes snapped to him, and for a second she looked the same way she had that night in the loft, her hands drenched in blood and the kitchen knife clutched in her fist with bodies at her feet: like she didn’t recognize him.

It took a heartbeat, but her expression smoothed out and she smiled, almost sheepish—like she’d been caught doing something naughty, instead of being caught being somewhere else. Someone else, more the wolf than the girl.

“The lights,” she explained, hands resting on his chest, “they startled me, is all.”

A frown creased his expression. He brought his hands up to hold her wrists, thumb pressed against her pulse point. It fluttered unsteadily. Unconvinced, Roman pressed, “The lights?”

“Just the lights,” Varya assured him. She tilted her head up and kissed him, one hand departing his jacket to go to the back of his neck—and when she kissed him, he could feel that strange little flicker of energy, like she’d been stamping something out before it could catch, but it still vibrated under her skin.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but she disentangled from him and swept around to the crowd of people waiting, beaming prettily and playing at bashfulness, as though she did not enjoy their eyes on her and did not soak their attention up like a flower did sunlight. Whatever had been plaguing her in that moment was now gone, and she was awash with attention and love, thanking people profusely and accepting each hug and cheek-kiss directed her way.

Roman brushed off the odd feeling that she wasn’t being as forthcoming with him as he would have preferred—no secrets anymore, isn’t that what they’d agreed on?—and instead waded into the crowd. Music kicked on overhead; chatter picked up to a warm humming around them; there was nothing else to think about except letting his girl enjoy her birthday celebration.

By the time Varya had made a suitable number of rounds (which tended to verge much higher than one, much to Roman’s chagrin—what tedious work, to share her with everyone else), she had barely sipped the glass of champagne someone had planted in her hand. She circled back to him eventually; like always, there was that pinprick tugging in the cavity of his chest, like they were bound by a single thread that kept them from parting too much and too quickly, and when she drew closer to him again it oozed relief, warm and vibrant, through his ribs.

“Sufficiently loved on?” he asked as she neared, hand reaching up to slide around her waist.

“By them? Certainly.” The brunette’s hand smoothed along his shoulder, the pad of her thumb gliding across the velvet of his jacket. “By you, though, not hardly. Not ever.”

“You are insatiable,” Roman agreed in a rumble. He splayed his fingers against the small of her back, tugging her in closer and brushing their noses together.

“Just for you,” Varya murmured, and the words brushed their lips together just a little—but everything with Varya, like this, felt like almost-kissing, enough to push him to some kind of edge where his stomach twisted and wrenched with want when she added, “And only for you.”

“You know I can’t resist you when you talk like that.”

She laughed, leaning in to set her glass to the side and curl her fingers into his shirt for a kiss; everything for a second felt normal, and good, and right again, the strange way she’d gone-away back in the doorway having disappeared, the dark cloud over her having cleared, her wretchedness from dinner dissipated.

And Roman kissed her, with the sound of the party chatter ringing in his ears, and kissed her with the faint taste of champagne flooding his senses when she parted her lips against his, and kissed her while his hand fisted the fabric of her dress and he managed out in a voice rough with want, “So you’re trying to rile me up.”

“I always,” Varya murmured against his mouth silkily, “want you riled, Romy.”

“Varya?”

A stranger’s voice filtered through the haze—the rose-colored one that usually accompanied Varya saying anything like she wanted him riled up—and Roman felt the irritation spike straight through it. He turned to look at the interruption at the same time that Varya did, only to find a young, handsome blonde standing just a foot away.

Varya said, sounding faint, “Maxim?”

“It has been a while,” the blonde said, and he sounded sheepish. “I called Armazd, asking after you—”

“Sorry,” Roman interjected briskly, fingers still curled—now possessively—into the fabric of Varya’s dress against the dip of her spine, “but who are you?”

His wife started to say, “Romy, this is—” at the same time that the man began, “I am sorry, my name—” and they both stopped at the same time, a strange little silence stretching between them.

“Maxim,” Varya said after a second, turning to look at Roman now. “This is Maxim. He is Artyem’s son.”

Roman stared at her, more to buy himself time than anything; she said the name like he was supposed to know who that was. Artyem, but it didn’t sound familiar. Almost any Russian name sounded like gibberish to him, and if Varya had said it to him, it had been in passing, an afterthought, nothing but a whisper of information passed between them before it was gone again.

Until it did. Until he remembered that the person Varya had thought was her father had actually been Artyem, that she’d poisoned him, let him bleed to death on the carpet while she had mentally checked out of the moment. That she had watched him die, but she had been somewhere else—someplace else, the way Ilarion had described it, very far away where she couldn’t even enjoy what she’d done fully.

And Maxim—golden, and polished, and clean-shaven—looked awfully pleasant for someone whose farther had choked to death on his own blood because of Varya.

“I see,” Roman said, even though he didn’t. His gaze turned to Maxim. “And you’ve—shown up without calling ahead?”

“I have been in Turkey,” Maxim explained, “finishing up some business, and I did not know how to get in touch—”

“Well, you spoke with Armazd, didn’t you?” Roman’s head tilted. “The man practically sleeps in our bed, I imagine he would have been happy to get you in contact with us.”

“Admittedly,” Maxim said, “I wanted it to be a surprise—”

No, Roman thought absently, venomously, that won’t do at all.

“—Varya’s birthday—”

“So you slunk in,” Roman elaborated tartly, “like a little street dog, hm?”

“Maxi,” Varya interjected, fingers absently tracing the stitching on Roman’s jacket, “why don’t you go get a drink and acquaint yourself with our friends? Armazd is just there—you see?”

Maxim’s eyes darted between her and Roman for a minute. He shifted on his feet, tilting and giving a little smile that might have liked abashed if Roman didn’t think he saw a little squirm of self-satisfaction in his gaze. Fucker.

“Of course,” the blonde replied after a moment. “C dnyom razhdyenyem, Varushka.” He took a step forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Varya’s thumbnail dug into the lapel of Roman’s jacket. “Thank you, Maxi.”

Once the blonde had departed, linking up with Armazd in the crowd to get introduced, Roman straightened up from the bar. It was impossible not to stare at this newcomer—he glowed with an easy charisma, flashed bright smiles that were all teeth. Roman hated him already.

“Maxi?” he asked her, eyes narrowed, and Varya sighed. He waited for her to elaborate. Perhaps she’d say they had dated once, perhaps they were literally nothing. That would be ideal, after all. Ships passing in the night.

She said, “We grew up together.”

Even worse. Roman twisted a loose, dark curl of hers around his finger. “And you killed his father.”

“Well—” She paused, mouth pressing into a thin line. “He does not know.”

“He doesn’t—” The notion that she was keeping secrets, and not from him, coiled high and happy in his throat. He tried not to sound too delighted when he said, “V, surely he knows.”

“Surely he does not, that I did it. Only that it happened. And I will keep it that way,” she added firmly, picking up her champagne glass from the bar top. “Maxim was incredibly loyal to my father because Artyem was, but more than that—he was mine and Ilya’s friend. I’m sure he is missing Ilya almost as much as I am.”

“As we all are,” Roman agreed sagely, planting a kiss on her temple in spite of the dry look she gave him. It was hard to tell, to get a read on this Maxim. What was it he’d dragged himself out of the trenches for? Just to fly halfway across the world to wish Varya a happy birthday? Above all things, Roman understood that his wife was a desirable thing, and knowing that he kept her out of the reach of others was part of her appeal—but that much? Could someone who was just a friend want that much?

He continued, “So what is it that Maxim offers to the business, hm?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Varya demurred, which didn’t sound at all like the truth. “Artyem was the one who sent him out on jobs. My father kept things tight around the top, you know. If anyone would know what it was Maxim was up to in Turkey who wasn’t my father or Artyem, it would have been Ilarion.”

“I find it hard to believe you have no idea what your father was using someone for.”

The sound of delighted commentary drew both of their eyes away; Irina had come down, both dark-haired infants in her arms, and was walking them toward Varya and Roman. Murmured remarks on what could only be their cuteness passed throughout the crowd of party-goers.

“I am putting them down for bed,” Irina announced as she approached, “and I know you like to say goodnight.”

“Oh, you are an angel,” Varya murmured, glass set aside once again. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to baby Ro’s cheek. Yuliana babbled, and she sighed dreamily, “Have you ever seen more perfect babies, Roman?”

Perfect babies, a perfect wife; soon, he would even have the perfect grip on Gotham’s neck, throttling it until it was nothing but dust and ash. Soon, but not soon enough; he’d be content when it was just done and settled, when there was nothing else standing between him and everything that he wanted. Varya, and the guns—what an odd thing, to know that a year ago he’d set out for this and it was just falling into his lap.

“Romy?”

“Never,” Roman replied, smiling and glancing back at his wife, reaching and cradling the back of Yuli’s head. “I’ve never seen more perfect babies, V.”

Across the room, Maxim watched them. There was something about it that Roman didn’t like—the way his eyes flickered, the way he looked between the children and Varya, the way their eyes met and he didn’t deflect away. Like he didn’t mind getting caught. Where had he come from? What little shithole had he crawled out of, over a year after Nikita’s death and Ilarion’s death—longer, still, since his father’s death? Hadn’t he wondered what had happened to his father?

What are you doing here, he thought venomously, that you think you can just come in here like nothing? Like I won’t root you out like the little rat you are?

Maxim smiled. It was a polite smile, unassuming kind of smile.

Roman picked up his drink from the counter, taking a heavy swallow. Suddenly, the evening seemed to stretch out endlessly in front of him, no finish line in sight.

Nothing else standing between me and everything I want.

And he was going to keep it that way.

[notyouraverageeldaryafan]

World Building part 1/5

The History of the Fae World

Hello and welcome to the first post dedicated to explaining how I would rewrite Eldarya! You can find the context to this post here. Before I begin here is your kind reminder that this is just my opinion and that it is subjective and that my version/AU is not better than the original or any other version for that matter, feel free to disagree and even tell me how wrong I am as long as you remain kind and polite. I will assume you are familiar with the game’s plot and so these posts will contain spoilers.

Let’s start with one of the core problems of this game, the world building. The game glosses over it, vaguely explaining it and seldom utilizes it in the plot. The team had a few good ideas, such as the war between the dragons and the aengels and it’s aftermath, but also they fail to take into account some of their decisions and their consequences. I am referring to the fact that the ritual was not completed and thus the food grown on Eldarya isn’t nutritional, it’s interesting in theory but the application is sloppy considering they have to constantly steal food from Earth but are unable to bring the main character back home. I will try to rewrite this origin story as well as a bit more of this world’s history, trying to make it as interesting but without it having so many consequences that are just making things less fun. (warning: this is unnecessarily long) 

The creation:

The birth of Christ was but a few centuries away: humanity was slowly learning how to write, faes were worshiped like gods and everyone lived in harmony. All was good and dandy until The Oracle (yes, the one in the Crystal) foretells a grim future. The Oracle was but a young witch back then, someone very similar to the Oracle of Delphi who could see into the future. She began to tell of a world where there’s only God who’s word is law and where fear of the unknown pushes humanity to persecute and abuse of faes (aka Christianity and unholy amount of persecution they led against witches and pagans). This of course was terrifying to the current leaders of the faes and, despite having some doubts, they still decided to act upon this prophecy. The Oracle offered the solution, the creation of a new world, an escape, so that, if things get out of control, the faes can just escape to this world and close the gates towards Earth guarantying their safety. 

All that was required was to complete a century long ritual, led by none other than the Oracle, where three of the mightiest faes species will have to sacrifice themselves in order to use the power within them to create this new world. These species symbolize what this new world should be like: the Dragons represent its power and might, the Phoenix, its immortality and fairness, the Aengels, its generosity and beauty. But there was a catch. The Oracle was using part of the power released by this sacrifice to become more powerful herself, unbeknownst to the others. Her Apprentice ended up discovering her secret and told the sacrificed about it. They decided to trap her during the last ritual inside of a giant crystal so that she may not use her new found powers against them in the future. And so they did, The Oracle found herself eaten by blue crystals where she stood and as she understood what was happening to her, she cursed this new world that she built: pieces of her Crystal will make faes go insane with greed and power, forcing them on killing sprees, that as much as they will try to keep the crystal in one piece, it will shatter, poisoning the inhabitants reminding them of her wrath. Dumbfounded, the remaining faes didn’t know what to do now, afraid of going in this new and now completed world, none wanting to go insane. The Apprentice stepped up, promising she knew how to appease her late master and thus control the intensity of this curse. 

Thus began something known as the First Wave, only a few thousand faes left for this new world they have created, to understand if it was truly dangerous, led by the Apprentice and much later by her reincarnations. Among these faes were the Original Three (the Dragons, Aengels and Phoenix) who each claimed one of the four main continents, the last one going to The Apprentice and her followers (you can find more details about the geography of this new world here [yet to be written]). At first, the Crystal was easy to control and the cases of Corrupted Faes were few and far between but it couldn’t last forever. (cf:The Fall of the Mightiest and The Return of The Oracle, found below) 

The War between the Dragons and the Aengels, also known as the Rise of the Mightiest:

The Ritual has left the Original Three weak and far less in numbers than they used to be. The Apprentice decided to give up the continent she was assigned, preferring to dedicate her life to dealing with the Oracle than to rule land. Both the Dragons and the Aengels wished to take this now ‘vacant’ continent for themselves. They were unable to compromise lands both wanting the land in its entirety. A war began between the two, The War of The Mighty Two. Meanwhile the Phoenix decided to remain true to their principals and remained neutral and fair, not taking part in this quarrel. They ended up regretting this much later. The war stretched for a couple of centuries until the Aengels disappeared completely from the face of this new world, declaring the Dragons victors and rulers of now three of the four main continents. Thus the Dragons began to change history, changing the name of the Aengels into Daemons and antagonizing them in history books. The Phoenix let them do so out of fear but also because they were afraid of losing their neutral stance. 

Special thanks to @partyinnevarra for helping me perfect this section and giving me the idea for the better reason behind the War between The Dragons and the Aengels, thanks again for your help <3

The Fall of the Mightiest and The Return of the Oracle:

In some sort of divine karma, the Dragons themselves suffered greatly. The Crystal, who had been quiet until then, awoke. The Oracle, who is theorized to have a conscious, waited until the new world was at its weakest to attack. The Dragons were the main victims of the First Corruption, going insane with power and destroying the world they promised to protect. The local faes were overwhelmed and called upon the faes that had remained on Earth to help them, mostly Dragons that have stayed behind. This was know as the Second Wave, starting around the fall of the roman empire and ending around the middle of the Dark Ages. The on-going fight with the Corrupted lasted less of a millennium and is to this day the longest cycle of Corruption to date. It is also good to know that back then, the faes weren’t sure how to fight these Corrupted, even more so that they used to be their saviors and were the strongest faes at the time. 

The easiest way to deal with the Corrupted was to kill them and take the piece of Crystal from their cadavers in order for it not to spread. It was the way that was prioritized for it was the most straight forward one (this technique is still used to this day). Another way is to trap the Corrupted in objects or caves or what-not, anything that can potentially contain something, but it required a lot of skill and maana and thus was deemed too costly (more on how that works here [yet to be written]) (this can also be an interesting villain for an episode, maybe a Dragon from the Dark-Ages trapped in ice or something else being freed by a villain or something) (this technique also explains the monster that could eat knowledge that was released by the main character in one of the episode). The last and perhaps the most efficient way of dealing with the Corrupted is through the Apprentice’s divine powers. The reincarnation of The Apprentice can extract the Crystal piece out of the Corrupted without harming them, this is called the Purification, but it is energy consuming and, well, there has only been 4 reincarnated at a time for thousands of Corrupted, so it is still considered the last viable option. (more information about how the Reincarnated work go here [yet to be written])

The First Corruption led to the almost complete extinction of the Dragons. On one side they were Corrupted and killed, on the other they fought against their brothers to extract the Crystal from them. The few Dragons left on Earth were hunted for sport by the likes of Arthur and his knights. A few unhatched eggs were saved and are kept by the Phoenix, in hopes that one day they will be able to save their species but there have been many debates surrounding the subject, mainly because of the fear that if the Dragons were to return, the Crystal might target them again. 

Aengels, Daemons and The Divine:

The Aengels were not all gone, a few escaped to Earth while the rest went into hiding. The ones on Earth quickly abused the then growing Christianism, becoming the known angels and demons. Despite that, they couldn’t hide from the witch hunts and the industrialization and either disappeared or returned to the fae world during the Final Wave. 

The Final Wave and The Second Corruption:

After the last of the Dragons disappeared, the First Corruption calmed down, the exact details aren’t clear, mostly because the faes that survived were few and traumatized. It took one full century for this new world to heal and for the faes on Earth to figure out that maybe, living in the fear of being Corrupted is better than dying at the hands of angry mods. Because, you guessed it, the Inquisition began followed by the witch hunts as well as the colonization of most of Earth which meant that even the places that were still considered “safe” (places that respected their legends and magical creatures, co-habiting, I’m thinking mostly of native tribes) started being invaded. Thus the last of the faes left Earth and joined the fae world, though a few remained but not enough to be worth being considered. The Second Corruption happened soon after the Final Wave and lasted less than two centuries. This time, everything was managed better, mostly because of the creation of the Guards (one of which the story takes place in), military bases meant to regulate the “bigger” Crystals and be able to predict the amount of Corruption, usually a Reincarnated accompanies the Guard members. 

The Third Corruption:

After a few centuries of moderate silence where the Corrupted were present but not the worst of threats, the Oracle awoke again. And it is at this moment the actual story starts. 

Nota bene:

This version of their history won’t be told to the heroine until much later in the game. At first, she will believe the story the Dragons have crafted, the version where Daemons are the villains and deserved what happened to them. The Oracle is also not seen as the villain for most of the game, mostly because the Oracle and the Crystal are seen as two different entities in the faes’ consciousness. The Oracle is seen as a helping hand, sometimes even worshipped as the goddess of this new world. The Apprentice and her reincarnations pushed forward this deification in an attempt to calm her late master’s wrath, maybe being seen as the goddess she always wanted to be would sooth her (spoilers: it doesn’t). All of this history being hidden would work greatly in the game’s over-arcing theme of lies vs. truths (it’s a theme that was present in the original material: just look at how many things the Guard hides from the protagonist even in A New Era where she is their savior). The fact that most of the faes population believed a lie ties in perfectly into the theme without making characters that the player is supposed to like and sometimes romance lie to the protagonist’s face (idk why for some reason beemoov keeps making their LIs lie to their main character, no one in 2021 finds that hot anymore, not that i think anyone ever found it hot in the first place, also you don’t need to have people lie to each other to create drama pls beemoov im sick of it) (sorry for the rant xD)

Wow!! I’m actually done... this was way to long, thank you so much for reading so far if you did. This is way too fun tho, wish I could do something more with this than just throw it in the void that is tumblr. Oh well. Next time, I’ll try to tackle the gameplay and the dreaded maana system.

Thanks again and have a good day!

[foximator-blog]

Mega Man 3 Electric Heart Styled.

Now we're on to Mega Man 3, and this time we introduce a new possibility to redesigns: Gender swapping. There are just way too many guys, I don't think anyone would mind if I made a few girls here and there.

Proto Man

Proto man, otherwise known as Blues, is Dr Light's first creation. He is the literal first robot master ever built, and his blueprints serve as the base for almost every robot master that followed him. When Dr. Light was revealing him to the public for the first time, Dr. Wily detonated an explosive at the convention, resulting in many injuries and the disappearance of Blues... While Light thought at first his son had died... the heavily damaged Blues was actually wandering around the outskirts of town, with no recollection of how he had gotten there or what had happened... and he was eventually discovered by Wily, who took advantage of the robot's amnesia. Proto man was then modified for combat, and his damaged core was replaced with an inefficient and possibly unstable nuclear core, resulting in buster shots somewhat similar to atomic fire, but not as strong. Under the guise of "Break man" Proto man willingly helped Wily, as he was led to believe he was protecting the world from Mega man. Luckily, Blues learned the truth and he slowly started to recover his memory... Though he does aid the right side now, he never stays at Light labs for too long. He loves his father and his new little siblings to death, but he fears Wily has rigged his power core to explode if Light were to replace it, which is why he avoids maintenance unless he really needs it. While wandering, he can often be heard whistling, or can be found spray painting one of Wily's abandoned fortresses. Oddly enough, he would become somewhat decent friends with Bass, despite the two having a fairly rocky start.

Needle Man

Needle man sometimes seems very cold and sharp with his words, but really he's just an introvert who values his alone time, which he often spends by knitting or sewing. Built through the combined efforts of Light and Wily, he uses his sharp needles to whittle down tough metallic ores into manageable pieces, namely on one of the mining planets gathering materials for building Gamma. Though when Wily created a plan to steal Gamma, Needle man was brainwashed into fighting for Wily against his will. Needle man is weak to the Magnet missile, since his armor and needles are made of highly magnetic metals, and in a similar sense to Metal man, Needle man's Element is Undead. Not only are needles deadly and sharp, but they even have their own dedicated phobia.

Magnet Man

Magnet man was built for sorting through scrap and recovering recyclable materials on the mining planets, to reduce waste and increase efficiency. His magnetic fields are very powerful, which is why Wily didn't hesitate to brainwash Magnet man on his quest to steal Gamma. Magnet man values his spiritual and physical health, despite being a robot, so he loves massages and Shaitsu therapy. He can also be found sticking to metallic ceilings taking naps. He dislikes Disk based media, because he is unable to touch it without accidentally damaging it. His Element is Tech, and his weakness is Spark shock, due to the electric charge disrupting the balance of his magnetism.

Gemini Woman

Despite Wily's arguments, Gemini woman is the second female robot master every created. Named after the twins constellation, she is able to create holographic clones of herself with varying levels of detail, and she can use her Gemini laser to mine tough crystalline minerals on the mining planet she was stationed at. Though Wily didn't want her to be a girl, her abilities were still useful to him, so she was brainwashed. Gemini woman is friendly, but very vain, and is said to use her holograms to admire herself when she has no access to a mirror. She is deathly afraid of Snakes, but still gets along with her sister Snake woman. Search snake is able to tell the difference between her and her clones, which is why it's her weakness. Her element is Light, because of her abilities utilizing holograms and lasers.

Hard Man

Big, buff, and made with thick ceratanium armor, Hard man uses his immense weight as a ground leveling robot, mak8ng mining and construction easier on the mining planets. He is able to shoot his heavy fists as projectiles, an attack called the Hard Knuckle, which Wily created after brainwashing him. Hard man is a fair minded and honest individual who loves good food, though he often finds himself disappointed in some of the decisions his little sister Snake woman makes. His Element is Earth, and his weakness is Gemini laser, as it's the only weapon capable of piercing through his thick paramagnetic armor.

Top Man

Top man was built with experimental auto-balancing technology and wheels in his feet so he could explore new territories. He is able to spin at high speeds, but only for short times as he can sometimes feel motion sick. Wily definitely brainwashed Top man, though no one is sure why he had Top man take over a greenhouse. He loves to dance and rollerskate, and he absolutely loves new years, as his ability to produce you tops from his head makes him popular. After the events of 3, he even left exploration behind in favor of working at an amusement park. Due to his toy based theme, his Element is Magic, and his weakness is Hard Knuckle as it knocks him off balance.

Snake Woman

Snake woman was also made for exploration, though she specializes in areas that are extremely steep or heavily forested due to her insane climbing ability, and her Search snakes, which slither across the ground and up walls as little surveillance drones. Again, Wily does not like that she was built as a girl, but he still found use in her abilities, especially when she showed interest in using her braid as a whip, and martial arts, primarily Viper style kungfu. Snake woman is very mischievous and flirtatious, she loves to tease and mess with others just for fun (Toad man being a favorite target bot necessarily because she's interested, but because she finds his reactions cute), which Hard man often gets disappointed in. She shows great interest in real snakes and would love a pet Boa, but she's terrified of Slugs. Being inspired by constricting snakes that are good at climbing and thrive in jungles, her Element is Life, though since the Needle cannon is good at pinning her down, it serves as her weakness.

Spark Man

Spark man's job is to manage the electricity on the various mining planets and ensuring that no blackouts occur. Since he's the only robot master with this job out on the colonies, he is able to produce three times the amount of power as Elec man, which is why Wily didn't hesitate to brainwash him. Spark man loves electric eels and catfish, but even more than that he loves his brothers and sisters being able to keep him company. He can be a bit clingy, and he really hates being alone for too long. He's weak to the Shadow blade, in reference to cutting electric wires, and his Element is Tech. Electricity technically isn't tied to a single element in Skylanders logic, so his Tech typing comes from the fact his body is shaped like a Spark plug, a common component to machines.

Shadow Man

No one knows exactly where Shadow man comes from, but he's possibly of extraterrestrial origin. Wily discovered this robot in ancient ruins, which would later be revealed to be where the Stardroids and Ra moon resided. Since this robot was in such a state of disrepair, Wily patched him up and added a ninja motif, though Shadow man requested not to be catalogued as a Wily robot when he was repaired. Shadow man is a fast learner, and he was able to learn ninja techniques from simulations alone because of this trait. He can seem cold and merciless at times, but he is loyal to the LWN robots, as they treat him as their brother despite his alien origins, and it would end up being him who helped Mega man craft a weapon that could damage the Stardroids.

Doc Robot

While these robots have no advanced personality or thinking ability like Robot masters, they are able to copy the abilities and combat patterns of previous robot masters from data preinstalled by Wily. While Wily was getting Gamma ready for world domination, he sent the Doc robots out after Mega Man to stall for time.

[skylarmoon71]

Donatello x Reader- Fanfiction Oneshot. (TMNT 2014-2016)

"Guys look what I invented!" Raph sighed when he saw you walking on the ceiling with your newest invention.

"She's at it again." he spoke, drawing in the attention of his other brothers. Donatello's eyes widened in amazement. "No way, you made gravity defying boots. "

You grinned from your upside down position, showing him a thumbs up. The beeping on your shoes made your smile drop. "Uh oh." the light changed from blue to red and you were now falling head first. 

"AHHHH!!!" 

Donatello rushed over, doing a flip and catching you mid air. His feet landed on the ground with a harsh thud, and you released a breath, holding unto him. "A-Are you alright!" he was surveying your body. All in all you seemed fine. You stared at him, admiring the beauty of his green eyes.

"I-I'm okay." your reply was said a bit shakily. Whether from the fall, or your slowly increasing heart beat, you couldn't tell. Donatello placed you on your feet, and Leonardo walked over, already preparing a speech. You knew that look on his face, he was about to scold you for your recklessness.

"(Y/N), you need to be careful. You could have gotten really hurt. What if we hadn't come in." You knew he was just concerned. Your head lowered. "I'm sorry Leo, I'll be careful next time." He raised his hand, patting you on the head softly. "It is pretty cool though." you looked up with a wide smile, fist pumping. Michelangelo was at your side in seconds, ready with an onslaught of questions. One of which probably included if he could borrow your boots.

Meeting the turtles was the best thing that happened to you. It was a real eye opener, that was for sure. You were an inventor at heart, testing out one of your creations. At the time you were just studying constellations and solar patterns. One night your panels picked up something strange. Whatever it was had a major energy source because it shorted your computer, as well as Donatello's equipment.

They'd been out on patrol while you were on the roof. And just ended up running into you. If your stuff hadn't overloaded Donnie's, they probably wouldn't have stopped to investigate. That was the first time you'd ever seen something so incredible. Of course when you saw them you fainted, from what you heard April had a similar reaction. But after that, when you came to, your curiosity got the better of you.

The fact that four huge mutant turtles were standing right in front of you seemed like the last thing you cared about. You just started asking questions. Like a scientist, you were inquisitive by nature. It wasn't long after that, you became quick friends with the turtles.

You and Donatello were especially close. He was just like you, always building and altering gear and technology, utilizing it to its maximum capacity. You were always helping him upgrade his inventions, and he'd give you ideas to create others to help the turtles protect the city. 

Being able to explore your interest with someone who loved technology just as much as you did was all you could really ask for. So whenever you weren't working, you were down in the lair, testing out your machinery. Your boots were something you'd been working on for weeks. Unfortunately it still needed a bit of tweaking, because the battery didn't retain as much power as you hoped.

"As soon as I get it up to speed I'll lend it to you Mikey." That was all he needed to hear.

"Boyah!! I got first dibs guys!" he was already running off cheering. You pulled the boots off, studying it. "I may have to alter the size as well."

"So how was patrol?" You asked surveying your equipment.

"Nothing we couldn't handle." Raph said boastful, biting down on the toothpick at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sure. Well while you guys were gone I ordered pizza." That was all you needed to say because pretty soon they were all headed to the other room to devour their favorite food. You laughed at how quickly the room cleared. Splinter walked out, his tail swishing slowly behind him.

"(Y/N), it's always nice to have you with us. However I'd advised against indulging my sons in that unhealthy food." He probably regretted ever introducing them to it, because it seemed like that was all they ever ate.

"Even if I didn't you know they'll still get their hands on some." he sighed.

"I suppose you're right." He looked at you like there was something else he needed to say.

"Is there something wrong?" He shook his head, a smile gracing his lips.

"I'm just very grateful for you." the statement caught you by surprise.

"T-Thank you Master Splinter." It really did mean a lot to you that he thought so.

"I should be the one thanking you. Not many people are willing to accept my sons. They are extraordinary, but society has a very focused view on what is right and wrong. This world could use more people like you and Ms. O' Neil." you could understand where he was coming from.

"I know what you mean. Growing up I dealt with my fair share of ridicule. I guess to the other kids I was always just weird. " At a young age you'd seen things different. While kids were playing on slides and swings, you were solving mind puzzles and complex math sums. Technology was easier for you to figure out that people.

You glanced at the turtles eating happily from the other room talking among themselves. Your gaze lingered on the purple clad one maybe a little longer than necessary. When you realized you turned back to Splinter, who was wearing a suspicious smile.

"I'll leave you to it then." and with that he was walking away, hands behind his back.

"Hmmm?" 

Sometimes you wished you could read his mind.

"Hey (Y/N), come and get a slice before they devour all." Donatello's words made you run over.

"Save some for me!" You spent a while wrestling to get a slice. Dropping down next to Donatello. her persisted to tell you some of the upgrades he was thinking of making in the lair. His computer set up was pretty impressive already, but just because something worked didn't mean it couldn't be further modified. Donnie was always thinking ahead.

"Just imagine if we made four of those boots of yours!" he sounded excited, letting out a laugh and a cute little snort. You paused for a second, and he pushed up his glasses, a little embarrassed at the sound that left him. You watched him with glowing red cheeks.

"OH MY GOODNESS WHY IS HE SO CUTE!!!"

If you hadn't already swallowed your pizza you would have probably choked on it.  Who knew the nerdy little turtle would have such an effect on you.

~~~~

Mikey was patting his stomach, clearly content. You smiled, gathering the empty boxes of pizza to carry to the trash. Donatello caught you struggling with about seven boxes, still trying to stack more. "Let me help you." you nodded, and he took a couple from your hand, following you out the room. You walked with him, a comfortable silence gathering.

"What were you and Sensei talking about earlier, it looked pretty serious." His question caused you to slow down a little.

"Umm, not much. He was just saying he's glad I'm around. He also said I should stop buying so much pizza for you guys." you gestured to the boxes in your hand, causing a shy smile to rise on Donnie's face.

Upon reaching the trash area, you dumped the boxes in the bin. Donnie did the same.

"Well I am glad you're here." you looked over at Donnie, who suddenly seemed a bit flustered. 

"I-I mean we're all glad you're here." he corrected, fidgeting. You watched him fiddle, your heart giving a slow flutter. Donnie really was the cutest. Maybe it was the glasses, but every time he looked at you, your chest would constrict in the most pleasant way. Hearing him say he enjoyed having you around was another plus. It did give you slight hope. Maybe he reciprocated your feelings. "I'm glad too." you replied, skipping back to the lair. Donnie's eyes followed as you moved through the sewer, a content feeling settling in his chest.

~~~

"Hey Raph, Leo." you waved at both brothers entering. Raph looked up from tying the bandages around his hand, greeting you. "Hey what's up."

"Not much, I just needed to borrow some material for a something I'm thinking about. Where is Donnie?" At the mention of his name, Raph moved closer, dropping a hand on your shoulder as he leaned in. "You know, you always run to Donnie's room whenever you get here. I'm starting to wonder if ya have a little thing for him." you sputtered, backpedaling.

"W-What No! That's No!" you shouted. Your yells earned a look from Leo, who was now very curious.

"If you're looking for Donnie he's in the training room with Mikey." Leo said almost on instinct. Did he know as well that you always gravitated to Donnie. How could you be so obvious? And here you thought you were covering your little crush well. You frowned at the smug look Raph sent you, putting his toothpick back in his mouth as you basically sprinted out the room, cheeks quickly turning red.

"Stupid Raph."

If he figured it out, maybe Donnie did too. What if he knew the entire time and just didn't say anything. 

"That's crazy, stop it stupid brain!" you tried to rid the thoughts. You did like Donnie, but if he found out and things got awkward, you wouldn't be able to deal with that.

When you got to the training room, you froze at the door, just staring. Mikey and Donnie were sparring. You stood watching every move, flip, punch that Donnie delivered. Sometimes you forgot that he wasn't just smart, but also a very skilled fighter. The way he attacked so efficiently, carefully calculating every hit, retaliating with his bo staff. Your heart was definitely pounding now.

"He's incredible."

You weren't sure how long they had been going at it, but after a few more minutes they stopped. Donnie had successfully knocked Mikey off his feet. "I win." Donnie said with a cute little grin.

He held out his hand, and Mikey took it, standing to his feet. They high fived and that's when their focus was drawn to you.

"(Y/N)?" Donnie called in question. You were still standing there gawking. You blinked a couple times, then cleared your throat.

"N-Nice moves." you commended. Mikey puffed out his chest. "Well you know, what can I say, gotta impress the ladies. " At this point he was flexing every muscle on his body, yet all you could see was the thin layer of sweat Donnie was wiping off his forehead. The action made his biceps bulge. A short breath left you. You licked your lips, enjoying the sight of his very muscular body. You swallowed, hoping you weren't being too obvious. Because right now you couldn't help it. Someone so adorably hot shouldn't be allowed to live on the planet.

"This should be a crime."

Somehow Donnie had moved without you realizing, because he was directly in front of you, adjusting his glasses to check your vitals. "(Y/N) do you have a fever!" He sounded worried.

"Your heart rate is elevated as well as your temperature. Not to mention how red your cheeks are. You need to lie down. " he didn't give you a chance to argue, picking you up and carrying you to his room.

When he stepped in he laid you on the bed gently, before turning and searching around his room for medicine. He picked up a packet of tablets, as well as a bottle of water, dropping it on the desk, moving back to get a piece of cloth. When he got back to you he was unscrewing the cork of the bottle to wet the cloth. 

"Just lay down and I'll-" because he'd been bouncing around so quickly you weren't able to stop him. Now that he was sitting right next to you, you took his hand, halting his actions.

"Donnie, I'm fine. I don't have a fever." His head tilted to the side. He pulled back down the goggles to scan you again. When he raised it, he looked confused. "I-It's back to normal. But you were just really warm. How did it go down so quickly. " he put down the bottle, still sitting on the ground before you. He reached over, placing his hand to your neck. He really was a sweetheart.

"The reason I was so warm wasn't because I have a fever."

"Then why?" he asked.

"It's..because of you Donnie.." you breathed.

"Because of me?" As smart as he was, he probably wouldn't figure out what you were trying to say. Your legs dangled off the edge of the bed. With you sitting upright, and Donnie on the floor, you were right about his height from your position. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you leaned forward, hands smoothening over his shoulders. Donnie just sat there, clearly alarmed at how close you were getting. You closed the space between you, eyes shut tightly as you pressed your lips to his. You didn't stay connected long. After a few seconds you pulled back to gauge his reaction. Truth is you weren't sure what type of reaction he would have, but you were tired of hiding how you felt.

"I love you Donatello."

"I said it!"

Donnie was still silent, you sort of expected as much. He just stared at you. When he finally did speak, it came out hesitantly. "Y-You...love me..?" you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I do." you confessed. He was quiet again, and you wished you could read what his eyes were telling you, because it was lost on you. 

Despite that, you reached up slowly, taking off his glasses so you could get a better look at his gorgeous eyes. You placed them on the bed next to you, moving over to sit right between his legs. Now that you had a clearer view of Donnie's eyes, you noticed that they were dilated. That fact just made your heart pick up. You leaned in again, wrapping your hand around his shoulders this time as you kissed him.

This kiss was slower, passionate. You were conveying everything he made you feel since you'd met him. Every time he made your heart beat spike, pulse quicken, breath hitch.

All your emotions combined in one, just for him. When his muscled arms moved around your body, you swooned. You could tell he was cautious, because with his strength he could easily hurt you. Donnie held you softly, earning an appreciative sound from your throat. He finally started to respond, eyes closing, pulling you as close as you could get. Pretty soon you were gripping at his body, kisses hot and heavy.

All your pent up energy was coming out. You were shocked you were able to go so long without oxygen. The way you were kissing him made him lightheaded. It was if he were the air you needed to breathe. Your tongue darted out, hands moving to the back of his head to keep him right where you wanted him. 

You were moaning softly, brows furrowing as you tasted him. So sweet, just like his adorable personality. Your hands ventured over his plastron, and this time Donnie moaned. The sound caused your stomach to coil in anticipation. When you finally pulled away, you were gasping in mouthfuls of air. Donnie did the same, chest heaving in equal pace to yours. As you tried to catch your breath, your eyes stayed trained on his soft lips. Partially wet with saliva from your most recent session.

"I...had no idea that you.." his sentence was incomplete, due to his panting, but you could put the words together. He obviously wasn't aware of your feelings. This entire time he'd been pining after you, and you'd felt the same way. Donnie scolded himself for not saying something earlier. All along he could have been kissing your deliciously plump lips.

"I'm sorry it took so long." you spoke. Now that your breathing returned to normal. You could think a bit clearer. He shook his head.

"It's okay.I-I just thought that because I'm a mutant and you're..you're.." he didn't finish the sentence, eyes moving to the floor.

"I never saw the need to try.." he lamented. His broken tone really made you want to cry. Of course he was insecure. He was a mutant turtle. You guessed he just expected everyone to judge him for what he was. You reached over, lifting his eyes to you.

"I don't care what you are Donnie. In my eyes, you're just.." you paused, looking for the right words. There were way too many to describe him. So you just settled for the first ones to pop into your head.

"Incredibly hot." you whispered. He gulped, obviously noticing the growing need in your eyes. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Intelligent." you pressed another kiss, this time a bit lower. 

"Caring," a kiss to his neck. "Sexy." you were trailing kisses down his neck, and Donnie was having a very difficult time keeping his heart rate under control. Your head lifted, and this time you kissed him firmly on the lips. "Mine." you thought.

You stayed there, safe in his arms, exchanging long overdue kisses. People in this society would probably never accept what he was, but you'd love him, no matter what. And at the moment, that's all he could really care about.

[godslush]

Appending some stuff to Slash Girl’s info, but not really expecting anyone to read it because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯   I just want it somewhere accessible to me that doesn’t involve logging into Google Docs or Dreamwidth.

DWN.054β - Slash Girl

Purpose - High-speed recon, wide-range intel/target acquisition and mapping. Dinosaur army support tracker and assistant spearhead combat robot.

Personality

Tactically quite smart

Good at noticing small changes in the environment, making her an excellent tracker.

Puts a lot of effort into hunting; extremely task oriented. A ‘hunt’ could be of the physical sort, but also extends to recon/’research’ or even menial retrieval errands.

On all other accounts, somewhere between dumb lizard and idiot bird

Hunt-motivated, but quite lazy otherwise. Spends a lot of off-time sun basking.

Has good eyesight, but difficulty with glass. Can (and frequently does) walk into glass doors if they are well-kept, lacking decals, and not automated (and will still run into automated doors while overclocked due to internalizing their opening speed while not overclocked).

Arbitrarily territorial and over-protective. High likelihood to hyperfixate.

Acts like a badass, actually very easily startled.

Due to quirks in her heating system (see below*), the quickest way to increase her internal temperature without overclocking is to imbibe blisteringly hot liquid, which has given her a reputation for being a coffee addict (as it is her most frequent blisteringly hot liquid of choice).

Given reptilian similarities and shared functions as recon bots, Slash Girl fondly considers Snake Man to be an old uncle.

Skills

High sprint speed and powerful jumping capability.

Strong senses, capable of monitoring and transmitting multiple forms of data (visual, audio, thermal, etc.) at high speeds.

Melee attacks are primarily kicks. In a game environment, this would entail:

A fast ground slide, similar to Mega Man’s, but damaging.

A three-hit standing kick (high, middle, and low)

A front-flip into a one-foot ground slam, utilizing the brake-boosters in her shins.

‘Signature’ moves involve arm-feathers:

A forward slash similar to the Slash Claw, with no shockwave.

A rapid, top-like spinning attack utilizing the brake-boosters in her arms.

May get ‘dizzy’; she can visually handle straight-shot high speeds, but her gyroscopes aren’t calibrated to handle something like this.

A three-way spread projectile. Feathers stick to terrain to form temporary hazards.

Can raise her feathers as a shield to block projectiles, but cannot obliterate them.

Other

Some ‘basic’ comprehension processing and databanks were removed to make room for the sheer amount of high-speed data she has to gather and transmit, rendering her effectively illiterate. She can still understand and speak multiple languages, but she has no databank for any written language, on the assumption that she is transmitting all visual data she collects to somebody who can.

This is fixed before she is activated in the 21XX timeline, since she is no longer needed for mapping and recon. Were she to be activated in the 20XX timeline, however, this quirk would still stand.

About a head taller than her brother, and much more heavily built.

Due to her design emphasis on distance speed, she’s built to take g-forces and to absorb the impact of sudden stops, making her surprisingly tough and sturdy for a high-speed recon bot.

Although her sprinting top-speed is higher than her brother’s she is far less nimble at close quarters.

Frequently overestimates her ability to brake; crashes are not uncommon. She even has foot spurs, and brake-boosters in her shins and arms, and she still manages to screw this up because she tends to use those more for augmenting her attacks than remembering what they’re actually for. If she used them properly, this would not be a problem. But it is.

Using her brake-boosters to augment her attacks causes unnecessary jarring wear on her joints and internals, as they were not built with that functionality in mind (they can take sudden, massive single impacts from braking, constant heavy pressure from g-forces, and rapid low-pressure joint movement and minor impacts from running fast in the first place, but repeated large impacts in a short time frame can cause compound problems). It also depletes her energy much quicker.

Higher base jump, but unable to grip and scale walls.

Shares her brother’s sensitivity to cold but with lesser severity. Completely lacks his milder vulnerability to high heat*. However, her circuitry and other components tuned for maximum efficiency at dangerously high speeds are strongly susceptible to electric-based attacks.

* Both Slash Man and Slash Girl have unique internal properties due to their high-speed functions. Since neither manipulates time to move quickly like some other speed-based Wily Numbers, both require extremely wear-resistant joints and other internals.

To get around this, both are augmented with a unique, waxy jelly with a stark heat gradient; at room temperature, it is fairly rigid and almost sticky, to allow for internal support, but at higher temperatures, it turns into a high-efficiency joint lubricant. If either robot’s core temperatures are brought too low, the jelly quickly coagulates and locks up where it shouldn’t. Directed electrical currents allow the jelly to resist thermodynamic equilibrium, so the jelly is only affected close to the heat source, allowing the material to support multiple physical states within the same compartment.

Slash Man, being an earlier model, gets around this by constantly overclocking and running hot 100% of the time, explaining why he’s… Like That. But it also means he wears out the jelly (and other internals) at a much higher rate, requiring more frequent replacement/repair. He also contains more of the jelly supporting and cushioning internal components, so high ambient heat or direct heat-based weaponry weakens structural stability overall, giving him his two-pronged temperature weakness.

Slash Girl, by contrast, has most of the jelly compartmentalized to high-wear moving parts only, and an internal toggle for her overclock to get things moving, which she leaves off when she has no important tasks, making her sluggish and lazy most of the time. Finding sources of heat to warm herself up allows her to function meaningfully when she’s not clocked up, but it usually takes a while to raise her core temperatures to a point where it can affect the pertinent portions of the jelly.

To speed up her heating process, she can drink blisteringly hot liquids... such as overheated fast-food coffee. This has given her a bit of a reputation as a caffeine-junkie, though only the thermal heat is of value to her. Dousing her internals with coffee also has a downside of causing more problems than good, so despite her requiring less maintenance than her brother in theory, she finds herself needing repairs just as frequently.

The material itself is fairly versatile for other purposes, and for a while was used as an incubation medium for certain types of robots (especially reptilian), as well as a diagnostic suspension due to its unique properties at very specific temperatures, though heated microfilaments spread through the entire medium is required to keep it at a uniform temperature given its usual resistance to equilibrium. Over time, most of its general functions were phased out in favor of less finicky substances.

It is the same goop that Slash Man throws capsules of as a means of subduing prey, since it is found in ample supply at Robosaur Park given its other uses.

[leo-interactive-fiction]

Can you tell us some little facts or give a lil description about the new side characters?

Sure! Let’s see, I’ll start with dorm Card. This dorm is comprised of a varying cast of characters with names that relate them to a deck of cards! Why? I just thought it was cool and fun haha.

Uno: See below.

Juno Winter: A no-nonsense female student with an authoritative air. In her short bill military cap she hides olive colored hair, marking her a member of Frenza. The peacekeeper of her team, she is particularly adept at incapacitating with an extendable baton, the likes of which she sometimes uses to pacify fights between members of her own team. . When she takes off her cap and lets down her hair, her personality shifts and becomes much more erratic and refers to herself as Juno Summer. Her combat style turns altogether more feral in this state, disregarding her weapon to using her hands and nails to press an advantage. She is considered the fourth most powerful member of the team.

“It is not my intention to bring her out. It is best to keep casualties to a minimum.” “Can you not dodge?! Pathetic! Pathetic! So pathetic! Kahaha!”

Rex: A tacitern swordsman, he has never shared his first name; only ever offering the formal title of Rex. Ambitious, Rex has a warrior’s soul with a flame that will never extinguish. Pushing his bodily limits, he will train until his body fractures or incapacitates itself. Unyielding, once he has set himself on a task, he will hyperfocus until it’s accomplished. Utilizing a straight sword, he is considered the most able sword user in the academy, and seeks to challenge and best anyone who uses a similar weapon.

“Injured? Inconsequential. Come from any angle, you will not best me: this I claim, upon my formal title of Rex.”

Acer: The most competent fighter in team Card, and some may say within the academy, Acer was raised by the strict teachings of his parents; members of Vestia’s finest First Division. When the declaration of war was announced, his family returned back to Vestia to prepare. With a spiteful relationship between him and his family, the decision to stay in Triaina only furthered the schism. Despite his history, he has a relatively casual personality, and takes most things lightly except for combat, which he expresses eagerness in. He excels in hand-to-hand combat, and uses every part of his body as a weapon with savage intensity.

“Let’s have a go, shall we? No holding back! I’d like a challenge!”

Joker Card: A lean male with turquoise hair, marking him a Hospian. A member of Hospur’s distinctive Shinobi Clan, Joker trains in infiltration and reconnaissance. A calm and gentle soul, they reason through everything carefully and thoughtfully. Seemingly two steps ahead at any given point, Joker knows what is required of him as a leader and efficiently manages the responsibility. Hospur’s Shinobi Clan holds no political stake and a close relationship with Triaina’s Faction of Beggars, providing Joker the opportunity to further his training at Triaina Academy. Joker adamantly deflects personal questions regarding his actual training, history, and connections, earning him an enigmatic air. His closed-off nature and place of origin keeps him from earning the full trust of his team, but he is able to make do with the independently competent members that make up Card.

“My name is Joker Card, descendant of the Shinobi Clan. I am impressed by the abilities of team Xeno. I look forward to seeing how that translates to their leader.”

Dorm Gold: This dorm has a more ideological bond tying the members. Each student in Gold is in some way aristocratic or regarded with high esteem.

Gaul von Sentinel (Literally ‘of Sentinel’): Gaul is a noble whose family oversees Sentinel, a very modestly sized fishing hamlet on the eastern edge of Triaina. The Sentinel family has overlooked the town since its inception, and Gaul regards the title highly. He has fiery red hair, and takes pride in his fencing abilities. Believing noble families should place the protection and well-being of those they oversee above all else, Gaul holds a deep-seated hatred for the aristocracy of Frenza, who live affluently off the backs of an indentured servant population and tarnish the good name of other nobles. They are considered the least powerful in team Gold.

“I will clean the taint of your materialism with blood. En garde!”

Lewis Gear: Hails from Orden as the heir of Gear Corp., one of the major corporations that run Orden’s infamous Desert Race. Lewis hold particular disdain on the lawless Dens that spot the desert, considering them a blight upon the sands and useful only as a form of entertainment. While not the most physically imposing, Lewis is a particularly conniving dealmaker who’s able to easily gleam the basic interests of anyone he meets. It is never known whether the friendships he makes are genuine or stepping stones in his ultimate goal of developing a worldwide conglomerate. Lewis is considered the fourth most powerful member in the team.

“I have an interesting proposition that might be just up your alley. What do you say? You can’t go wrong, making friends with me.”

Princilia Crown: A self-proclaimed noble with Gothic Victorian fashion, Princilia comes from a poor family and has amassed vast wealth through deceptive diplomacy and illicit deals. Particularly untrusting and uncaring of humans, her only friend is a makeshift doll she can always be found with named Amen. Beyond her seemingly innocent appearance, she justifies inhumane and ignoble actions through the guise that it is Amen’s ideas. Using particularly crafty diversion tactics, she is an underhanded fighter with little moral investment. Her disposition leads to many finding her unnerving, however Vale has developed an admiration for her crafty determination, and wishes to earn her trust.

“How bothersome. Amen, what should I do...? Oh, I see... Let us be rid of them, then. Hmhmhm...”

Treyla Wunderkind: A child prodigy in every sense, Treyla grew up showered in the praise and adoration of everyone around her, earning her a substantial ego and necessity to claim perfection in everything she does. Able to take in information with considerable speed and ease, perhaps more remarkable is her ability to accurately emulate the complicated mechanical actions of anyone she observes. Despite her talents, she spurred her much less talented younger brother into the leadership position in the hopes of supporting him out of the large shadow she casts. Treyla holds a deeply intimated affection for her brother, the likes of which is rarely and awkwardly reciprocated.     

“I know Vale will grow into the position with time. He just needs the support of his dear sister!”

Vale Wunderkind: A timid boy with little in the way of self-confidence due to being unable to meet the unrealistic expectations set upon him throughout the course of his life. While he enjoys the company of his endearing sister, the knowledge that he will always be overshadowed when she is near causes him to distance their relationship, much to Treyla’s disappointment. Considered a weakling, and not a particularly high scorer on exams, Vale’s redeeming quality is the ability to bring together unlikely members and have them function with little internal conflict. This may be due to pity for his shortcomings or an innate magnetism he has. As a central mold between the mostly asociable and inconsiderate members of team Gold, Vale is the unlikely best candidate for the leadership position.

“I know I’m not the best but...when I see how bright you shine, it inspires me. Please be patient with me: I’ll try my hardest...”

Thank ya for the ask! Let me know what you think of this new cast of characters! :)