#t: Gambling with the Undead

[writing-yarn-goblin]

I’m here to post shit and have fun!

In honor of Halloween! Here’s some stories to have fun with!

Anime: One Piece

Character: Sanji Vinsmoke

Monster: Vampire

Warnings: Blood, suggestive themes, Sanji’s killer looks.

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Vampire

Baratie was only opened at night.

The vibe and jive of the place were always phenomenal and the food was just as divine. It’s been serving meals and games for as long as the city was constructed.

Sanji would often oversee the dinner service at Baratie. His eyes would focus on the smiles and tug of the lips as people tried the food and enjoyed the drinks until 11PM.

The restaurant would take a brief pause in order to empty the patrons with ‘Goodbye’s and ‘Please come agains’.

After 12 AM, midnight: the guest who would come in would be a little more…special.

The lights and ambiance would change according to his clientele. The furniture would shift and the waiters would be able to offer more things that were off the menu.

Such as exotic meats, rare spirits and your choice of blood types.

Pure, from the source and voluntarily given blood.

The restaurant that he worked so hard to maintaining and hold up the caliber he and his adoptive father created: was now a nightclub for the undead, the lurkers and form-changers.

There were three rules in his establishment:

No fighting.

No gambling.

No humans that did not consent to be there.

He enforced the last one aggressively. Kicked and banned many before just for breaking this particular rule. He was once human and he knew how cruel the world could be, violating his right to exist.

As a vampire he would make sure that humans under his care would be safe.

“Sanji?” He heard someone say his name so sweetly.

His ears picked up on the softness of her voice. Corners of his mouth tugged upwards, fangs poking slightly from his lips as he turned around to his private room.

There she was.

The object of his affections.

“Mon Ange…you should be resting.”

“I know but…I want to feel you in my arms again, Mr. Vinsmoke.”

“How can I deny such a request? Especially when Mon bébe looks so exquisite in pearls and vermillion silk?”

She felt the chill run down her spine when he shifted towards her. Nose against her throat and arms wrapping her legs around his waist.

The squeal of delight heard when he gently pressed his lips against her throat, near her jugular, was tempting him to sink his teeth in. Drink from her just to hear the sweet moans and feel her become more needy for him.

Hoping she could scratch the itch as he feasted upon her a little and just really showed her how much he really loved her company.

“W-We have a meeting with- Ah~ t-the investors in an hour.”

“Plenty of time, Mon Amour. Let me hear those pretty lips as they sing me your symphony.”

And she did.

Every time he bit her and every time he touched her she sang for him.

It was just another night at Baratie.

[girlwiththepapatattoo]

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 20

Warnings: Astarion being himself

Summary: The group finds safety in the dark.

Notes: Eyyyy, it hasn't been two months! lmao I hope you all enjoy! <3

Also, not that I get a lot of engagement on tumblr, but if anyone wants to be tagged when I update, just let me know.

Read on Ao3 here!

Previous Chapter | First Chapter

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“That…is the last time I ever want to fight birds, undead or not,” Astarion grouses, brushing at his armor. “Feathers, everywhere!” 

Sable gives a very faint smile as they approach a crossroads. Low, crumbling stone walls line the way down several different roads, but Lassandra makes for a bridge that stretches over a small branch of the Chionthar River. They approach, and watch as the Harper walks right through what looks like a shifting, glowing wall of light. 

Sable pauses before it, examining it curiously. 

“This must be how they’re shielding this place,” Halsin says, approaching the wall on the right hand side. 

“The question is, how are they producing such magic?” Gale replies, on the left. He reaches out and brushes his fingers through the light. 

“Does it matter?” Karlach asks, looking over her shoulder. “Let’s go already, I hate it out here.” 

Sable nods in agreement and steps through the curtain. 

Immediately, the air feels lighter on the other side. The landscape hasn’t changed much, unfortunately, it’s still dead and twisted, but the shift in the atmosphere is a welcome one. It’s much less oppressive, there’s no feeling of being watched…at least, from things they can’t see. Several guards are watching them walk across the bridge warily, their hands on their weapons. More than one raise crossbows in their direction. 

“You all! Keep your hands off your weapons,” a Harper woman calls. “Who are you?” 

“Easy, Elifer,” Lassandra says, stepping in front of Sable and their group. “These people helped save our group out there. They’re here at our invitation.”

“You overstep, Lassandra,” the woman, Elifer, says with a frown. “You know that she is the one who decides who stays.” 

“Well, she certainly sounds important, whoever she is,” Astarion murmurs. Sable resists the urge to elbow him. And also laugh.

“Come,” the Harper guard says, side-eyeing the vampire, “she’ll want to meet you.” 

Casting a look around at her comrades, Sable starts to follow Elifer towards a large, empty fountain in the middle of the inn’s courtyard. They approach a woman whose back is turned to them as she speaks with another Harper. 

And when Sable sees this woman, even from the back, she stops dead, her eyes widening.  

“Jaheira!” 

The leader of the Harpers turns around at the new voice calling her name, just in time to catch Sable, who’s thrown herself into her arms. “What-?!” Jaheira’s eyes widen in shock. “Sable! Sable, what are you doing here and not in Baldur’s Gate?!” 

“T-The…the attack by the mind-flayers,” Sable all but sobs into the elder druid’s neck. “I-I got caught, Jaheira, and they…they��!” 

Jaheira curses under her breath and wraps her arms tightly around the young elf. “Come now, little one. I know your road must have been long and painful, but now is not the time for tears,” she murmurs gently. 

“She’s right, kitten,” Astarion says softly, stepping over and rubbing her back. “I promise, you can cry all you need later tonight, but-” 

“Who are you to interrupt?” Jaheira snaps, glaring. “A vampire. What’s more, an infected vampire. Let me guess, you’re one of Szarr’s ilk, aren’t you?” 

Astarion bristles, glaring outright at her. “Not anymore,” he all but hisses. “He will never control me again!” 

“Perhaps not, but that tadpole in your brain will,” she retorts, and steps in front of Sable protectively. One of her hands glows green, and roots and vines suddenly grow knee-high up Astarion’s legs, trapping him where he stands. “I do not know how you all have kept your minds, but I cannot gamble on how long that will remain the case.” 

“Jaheira, if I may.” Halsin steps forward, his hands up in a gesture of peace. “I am Halsin, recently Archdruid of the Emerald Grove. I am not infected, and I vouch for all of them.” 

Jaheira studies him for a long moment. “Halsin. I remember hearing your name after the battle, all those years ago. We did not meet, but I have learned of your heroism, and your talent for healing.” 

He smiles faintly. “You honor me. In truth, I only wish I could have done more, back then. It’s one of the reasons I am here now: to finally put an end to this curse. The other reason, of course, is helping these people to get rid of their parasite.” 

“Wait!” A young voice calls out from across the courtyard. “Don’t hurt them! These are the ones who saved us back in the Grove!” Mol runs up, looking between Astarion, Halsin, and Jaheira. “Her, especially!” She points to Sable. “She saved two of my friends, one from some harpies, and another from a mad druid with a snake! I’d pretty much trust her with my life!” 

Jaheira looks at Astarion sharply. “And this one. He helped?” 

“Sure did! Well, against the harpies, anyway. Sable did the talkin’ with Kagha.” 

“Of course she did,” Astarion says with a shocking amount of patience for him. “She leads us, so she does the talking, negotiating, that sort of thing. It’s worked out well, so far.” He smiles as Sable looks at him, wiping at her tears. “My kitten can put anyone at ease.” 

“...Your tone is awfully familiar, vampire,” Jaheira says, her voice low, dangerous. 

“It should be, considering we’re lovers,” the vampire replies with a smirk. 

In the back, Wyll and Gale both smack their hands to their faces at the same time. 

Jaheira tenses and opens her mouth, but Sable puts her hand on the older druid’s arm. “It’s all right,” she says softly, seriously. “I trust him. He hasn’t hurt me, and I know he won’t.” 

Astarion’s breath catches in his throat. Sable smiles to him, soft and warm and something aches in his chest but it’s a good ache. He’s still getting used to the thought of good aches.

Jaheira sighs, but lowers her hand. The glow of nature magic fades, and the roots and vines retract, leaving the pale elf free once more. He immediately walks over to Sable and pulls her into his arms, laying his cheek on her hair. 

Halsin gives a fond look at the scene, then clears his throat, drawing the other woman’s attention.”I believe we have much to discuss. I assume we have leave to stay for a time?” 

She nods curtly. “For now, yes. But know this: if any of them start to turn, I will not hesitate to put them down.” 

“Good,” Lae’zel replies in approval. 

Jaheira glances at her in surprise, before she gives the gith a nod and looks back to Halsin. “Well. You are right, there is much to talk about. Get yourselves settled, and then…join me for a drink.” She turns and strides back to the Inn.

Astarion wants to ask Sable how she’s doing, but he doesn’t get the chance. Karlach all but trips up next to them, her eyes wide. “Soldier, you know Jaheira?! The Jaheira?!” 

“I do not see what is so exciting about one woman,” Lae’zel says to the star-struck tiefling. 

“Or why it’s so impressive that Sable knows her,” Shadowheart adds, crossing her arms. 

“Jaheira is an absolute legend!” Karlach says earnestly. “Years ago-over a century now-she was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Sarevok, a Bhaalspawn trying to drag the city into a war.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” Astarion muses. “Chaos gripped the city. You could barely turn the corner without finding a corpse. Fun times.”

“My mum used to tell us stories about them,” Karlach continues, “the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Tough. Adamant.” 

“Not was,” Sable murmurs. “She still is.” 

“And you know her! Come on, tell me how!” Karlach begs. 

“Perhaps now is not the time, my fiery friend,” Gale says softly, almost putting a hand on Karlach’s shoulder before pulling away. “Sable seems like she needs a moment. Besides…” He points off towards a building across the courtyard, where they hear the unmistakable clang clang of a hammer hitting metal. 

“Holy shit! DAMMON!” Karlach cries, and all but sprints toward the smith. 

“Thank you, Gale,” Sable says to the wizard, who smiles to her softly. 

“Not a problem. Come on, everyone, let’s go get rooms! I for one am going to relish having a proper bed!” 

“Chk, you are too soft, wizard,” Lae’zel says, but follows the man into the building. Shadowheart follows. Wyll heads after Karlach, wanting to know if he could help. 

Halsin pauses, looking at his fellow druid. “Will you be all right, Sable?” he asks softly. “I can stay, if you need me.” 

“I have her, big man,” Astarion replies, giving her a gentle squeeze. 

“I know you do,” Halsin soothes. “But…well. If she needs anything, just call. I’ll come running.” He picks up his pack and heads into the inn. 

“Honestly. As if I don’t know what you need,” he grumbles. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, then bends and scoops her into his arms. “Come on, my kitten. We’ll go find a moment of peace and quiet.” 

“Thank you. I can walk, you don’t have to carry me,” she mumbles to his chest. 

“I’m aware,” he replies, not making any movement to put her down. “But I have you. Besides, I won’t always offer something this, ugh, nice. So take advantage while you can.” 

Her lips twitch faintly, before she presses a kiss to the bit of his collarbone that shows through his armor. “I never want to take advantage of you.” 

That beautiful ache thumps in his chest again, and he huffs, but his crimson eyes are so warm. “You know what I meant.” 

She can’t help but smile. “I do, yes. Thank you, Astarion.” Her eyes close, and she relaxes into his arms. 

He finds a quiet corner of the camp, settling down onto a rock near the river, his kitten cradled on his lap. Everything is quiet, save for the gentle burbling of the passing current and the distant murmurs of conversing Harpers. He sits there with his lover, shielding her from anyone wanting to ask questions, letting her regroup. 

He wishes, idly, that this was the end of the road, that he and his kitten had no more danger ahead of them. 

He sighs softly. If wishes were dragons…

[ducksbellorum]

Cartouche 2023 A ‘cartouche’, in this case, is a song that has been particularly catchy or meaningful. This year there were 55. Happy New Year.

Bury Me Face Down - grandson

Miss YOU! - CORPSE

HOT DEMON B!TCHES NEAR YOU - CORPSE

Everywhere I Go - Hollywood Undead

Wagon Wheel - Darius Rucker

Darling (Sped Up) - D Block Europe

MISA MISA! - CORPSE

…Ready For It? - Taylor Swift

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things - Taylor Swift

We Own the Night - Chandler Kinney

The Storm - TheFatRat

Five Years - Bo Burnham

Shake That - Gang Speed

Killdozer - Kim Dracula

The World Will Know - Newsies

Welcome to the Rock - Come From Away

Tir na nOg - Celtic Woman

My Family - Migos

38 Planes (Reprise) - Come From Away

Go Down Deh - Spice

If You Could Hear Me Now - The Mammals

I've Endured - Che Apalache

Speaking to the Colors Again - Smilo & the Ghost

Didn't Leave Nobody But the Baby - O Brother Where Art Thou?

Fare Thee Well - Inside Llweyn Davis

16 Shots - Stefflon Don

Family - Catey Shaw

Popular Monster - Falling in Reverse

Never Satisfied - CORPSE

What It Is (Solo Version) - Doechii

Talk Too Much - COIN

You Wish - Flyana Boss

Reckless - JAXSON GAMBLE

Bumpy Ride - Mohombi

Let It Reign - KB

Drop - Connor Price

Dip - Connor Price

Receipts - Connor Price

Gasoline - Connor Price

Bankroll - Connor Price

Chuck Taylor - Connor Price

Talk to Me Nice - KB

I Should Have Stayed at Home - Ryan Mack

edamame - bbno$

Paint the Town Red - Doja Cat

WILLY - nobigdyl

Violet - Connor Price

Big One - Flyana Boss

Swing - Connor Price

Riptide - Connor Price

ACT - indie tribe

Good Grief - Bastille

Thrillin - Connor Price

Overnight - Connor Price

That's How We Ballin - T Pain

[cold-arrow]

Doctor’s Notes, Book 6 part 15

| Crossroads, to cruise on ahead | Summary, Things of note since last entry: Crossroads, resupply, weaving a prayer, big kitties. back at Loudwater, an anchored surprise A “warm” welcome. A drunk greeting. The mask. Gambling sesh. The mask. Directions. Lym’s Commission? Zyra’s plan. The river splitting.

| 1 / 3 |

We ended up deciding that: it’s probably best to be prepared, when we go and try to deal with stone giant’s. Especially onsidering that they might have an unnumerable amount of undead, both large and small, at their back and call…   So any prep we can do beforehand, might make difference. And it’s apparently not just diamonds that Lady Silverhand has provided. We will be heading back to Loudwater, for however long that might take, to pick up the supplies. Hopefully they won’t have too many more undead, by the time we get back here.

--

We got attacked by a den of cragcats. They scared the shit out of us, Or… atleast me, as the suddenly jumped out of the bushes and pounced on us. Knocking me to the ground in the process. Thankfully we managed to take care of them pretty quickly, but… can’t say that it was a pleasant surprise.

Felt a bit bad for them to be honest, once we killed most of them. When there was only one left, it… started dragging the body of one of the others to safety. Or so we thought at least. Cause a few moments later, we could say it tearing the corpse apart for sustenance…. Still though, they seemed quite malnourished, desperate, starved. The others we’re hoping to perhaps salvage some of their fur from them, but even before out fight they were already in pretty poor shape. Don’t think that with the stone giants around, and all the undead, that they’ve been able to hunt much. As of late. Poor cats.

* Did manage to salvage some of their claws, at the very least. The keratin that it contains tends to have decent medicinal properties when used correctly. Still have to see if I can salvage some reagents from it though

…

I… I hadn’t really realized how… tense. Or Stressed... Or paranoid or worried I have been these past few days, until Lym decided to… just braid my hair for a bit.

While I was busy with looking at some of the claws I’d gotten, after we set up camp later that day, she at some point decided to     sit behind me. And just started braiding my hair. It was… a bit uncomfortable at first. It was kind of out of nowhere and I wasn’t really sure what to do, or to protest, or to just let it happen. But every time I made to move my head, or tried to turn around, she just pulled my hair and kept my head from moving. So after a few minutes I just gave in, and let her work.

At that point it was actually    kinda relaxing. Like… a head message of sorts. Clearing my mind for abit, or… untangling my thoughts. I’d been wondering what to do about my hair as well, since it had been quite a while since I’d cut it, and wasn;t really sure what to do with it. So, having it be in a braid seemed pretty handy. I… think she was praying as well. While she was working on braiding my hear.

I wonder what it was, that she prayed for, or said to the Weave.

Eitherway, the… result wasn’t entirely what I expected. For instead of a single braid, I had received about a dozen small ones. Not really my… aesthetic. But I didn’t want to ruin all her hard work either. So I left it for the day. -- I did untie it the following morning though. As was starting to get a bit uncomfortable and tight, with how it was pulling on my hair. Though maybe I should look into how to actually braid my hair at some point.

* sidenote, also look into how to make hair glue. Lym mentioned that people sometimes us it as a way to “tie of” the ends by just sticking them in such kind of mixture. Doesn’t seem that hard to make. Just have to make sure the mixture doesn’t damage the hair, and breaks down again after a few hours.

| 2 / 3 |

We made it back to Loudwater without any further issue. And were greeted by the city guards at the gates. They informed us however that our supplies had already had been picked up, apparently? Which was a bit confusing. -- That our crew had picked it up, and taking taken care of it. It took us a moment to realize that they probably meant the crew of the airship. Which… meant as well that the Airship was up and running again, much to our relief. That will definitely safe us a lot of time with travelling back. (as long as we don’t get spotted by the stone giants) After pointing us in the direction where they had taken anchor, outside Loudwater, we headed their way

--

Wouldn’t say it was the…. The most warmest of welcomes. But don’t know what I was expecting either when we finally arrived at the ship, and they were wearing their masks again. Including Lehel. Which, Lym did not take kindly to, to say the least. I really do hope that he realizes how much it   upsets, and hurts her. To see him, and act like this. to be wearing it. Which… things didn’t improve much either when she saw that Taklin   Wasn’t   wearing his scarf. And enjoying himself with a large cask of liquor. They argued for a bit, after that. With Lym trying to wrangle the damned mask from his neck. And succeeding. Though only temporarily. She tried to take it from him once or twice, with success. But nevertheless the result remained the same, as it always returned again, into his possession. Teleporting back. After that she stormed of towards her room below deck. And I didn’t see her after that for quite a while. –

Wasn’t really sure if I should intervene.

The  cold  welcome from the rest of the crew aside. The inebriated stupor named Taklin, seemed quite glad to see us. And insisted we played some games with him for a bit…   So me and Omrick decided to humour him with a few games. Aldrin however decided to check on the supplies. And asked me if he could borrow my back of holding for said task.

--

Won the first few games. But kept getting bust in the rounds after that. Not that I really minded. After Lym’s interection with Lehel, I wanted to ask Taklin some stuff.

A. why he was the only one not wearing a mask And B. If I could perhaps take another look at it.

The answer to the first was relatively simple. Whatever effect the masks has, seems lessened, or less effective, or ineffective when the wearer is drunk. Which... he definitely doesn’t seem to mind as much. Especially with his dwarven constitution.

As for the second question, I was happily willing to bet my Alchemy jug on the next round, if It meant that could borrow his mask for a bit.

He agreed, sort of. But instead gave it to me right away. Though I already had an inkling of how this was going to go. I appreciate took it from him, to Try and take a closer look. But as before with Lym… it wasn’t for long. I tried a few more times, but it always disappeared again after a few seconds. Whenever I looked away, or even blinked. So I quickly gave after the third time.

Maybe I can took a look later? if I let him hold it. But I’ll have to see.

--

decided to inform the captain of our destination afterwards. And we quickly set sail after that. Aldrin had come up again a bit later as well from below deck. And said he’d found some items of interest along the supplies we received. So I wanted to take a look at them.

| 3 / 3 |                Well the mace recieved is definitely a god’s send. It’s enchantment makes it even more effective against undead, which…. Will definitely come in handy.

As for the Lens. It is quite the curious artefact. However, upon realizing how it actually functions, and it’s implications, I made sure to keep it Faaaar away from my bag of holding, and placed it on the other side of the room. In theory it functions similarly to a portable hole. Except much smaller. Much much smaller. And instead it can be utilized to create a “peephole” of sorts through any solid surface. Allowing a person to peer through, through the hole it creates. And look into or beyond the other side of surface it is placed upon. Not sure if I should carry it around though. If I am ever particularly tired, or negligent about it’s nature, and… idly put into my bag of holding… I’d rather not think about it.

Lym will be the one looking after both items.

She didn’t seem too excited about the mace. Seeing as it isn’t really her preferred weapon of choice. But I do definitely think she’ll be the one that will get some real good use out of it. And considering how often she’s had to borrow a dagger. A decent melee weapon wouldn’t hurt I think?

--

After thinking on it some more (my conversation with Taklin I mean)  And the concept of the encursed masks in general. I wonder if Omrick might be part of the reason… why they do actually even take of their masks

Usually whenever we return to ship, they always seem to wearing them. And like previous times, the crew took of their masks again, a short while after we boarded the ship. At first, I just thought that that was like their regular routine or something. That they only wore their masks when anchored, or flying, or…? But that didn’t really make sense. And it was kind of inconsistent?

So instead, I wonder if it is perhaps partially due to Omrick’s presence, or… the aura that he exudes, through his divine connection with his god / deity.

I will have to keep an eye out, to be sure. Or I might just ask some of the crewmembers myself as to why and when the wear the masks. Or when and for what reason they usually do take them off. Taklin’s, kind of made sense. But it raised a different question that I’m now much more curious about.

Will have to see. * as per usual though, the crew definitely seems a lot more friendlier and sociable now. Like they’ve thawed out a bit again from wearing their masks.

How to go about this though… --

Lym came to me with a rather interesting request today. She asked me to commission something for her. Which was quite the pleasant surprise.

She asked if I was still busy with, or was gonna work on making some jewellery pieces. And upon confirming as much, especially because we’d found some gemstone among the belonging of the giants. She asked if I could perhaps make something for her, in the near future. Which I ofcourse was more than happy to. She’d tell me details later, and was satisfied for now with knowing I’d be willing to help out, before heading out again. But I look forward to hearing what she wants me to make for her. I might have an inkling, but guess I’ll have to see -- Were getting close to river by Orlbar, and returning to river splitting where we’d left from. And Lym informed us of Zyra’s plan, that she had mentioned before. Apparently the area beyond the river splitting, was part of a Roc’s territory, so bringing the airship with us would be Quite a risky endeavour. -- So instead, she would distract the gigantic bird. To allow us safe passage.

As a result, our initial plan was to have the airship drop us of by the river, and continue on foot. Especially knowing our previous luck, with giants spotting the airship. And the Roc now as well. So we decided to play it safe, and go on foot. And travel towards the stronghold by land.

But there was one major problem with that. Upon confirming our plan with Zyra, she informed us that the lands below, were Dwarming with undead. And that she wasn’t sure if she could distract the Roc long enough for us to make it all the way there. Seeing as going by foot would still take us several days.

As a result, she suggested we instead take the distraction, to close the distance with the airship, and have them drop us of as close as possible (which is what she initially had in mind.) And now knowing that its absolutely crawling with undead below us , I cant really say that I mind. It did take some convincing to get the captain to agree with change in plans though. since we initially told her she didn’t have to go into the Roc’s territory, but Lym thankfully managed to persuade her. And hopefully they’ll be able to pick us up, when we get back. Hopefully. | end of entry |

[joannahunts-a]

Gambling with the Undead | Jo & Dean

@the-ramblin-man - moved from that old ass ask I sent in [credit for title goes to Jill, tbh ] 

“Hey, you’re the one who decided to go into the creepy building alone and not wait in the car,” he told her with a smirk, though he hadn’t actually meant to sneak up on her. The beam of his flashlight illuminated the lobby of what was once a beautiful hotel and casino, but had long since been abandoned. “Thanks for meetin��� me, by the way,” he told her. “Me and Sam still aren’t on real good terms and I figured backup might be good if my intel on this vamp nest is right.”

He set his duffle bag down on the dusty floor to rummage through it. Then he pulled out his trusty sawed off shot gun before stuffing a few shells in his navy jacket pocket. “You good?” he asked as he stood up, shouldering his weapons bag.

Jo narrowed her eyes at the man. “You’re damned lucky I didn’t blow your head off,” the blonde grumbled, not willing to admit she might have been at fault here. “Should wear a friggin bell.”

She rolled her shoulders, a shotgun in her hands, machete strapped to her thigh already. “Yeah, I’m good,” she assured him, taking a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. That rush of adrenaline when Dean had startled her wasn’t good for a hunt, she needed to get her heartbeat to slow down, her blood to stop rushing through her ears. “How many are we looking at?”

[fullofmultitudesfullofshit]

Okay marvel fandom rant incoming so keep scrolling if you’re not interested —

Alright, I am SO tired of every news and media outlet after every fucking marvel movie DEMANDING to know the “GOAL” of this franchise!?

it just— it just makes me wonder — do…DO ANY OF THESE PEOPLE ACTUALLY READ COMICS !?!!!?!!!?!?!?!? DO ANY OF THEM ACTUALLY KNOW THAT THIS SHIT IS ABSOLUTELY SUPPOSED TO BE ALL OVER THE PLACE AND BONKERS AND FUN AND SERIOUS AND CRAZY AND WONDERFUL ALL AT THE SAME TIME !?!?!? Like LITERALLY L I T E R A L L Y !?!?!?!? Do they know that half the time there isn’t a “goal” over the combined storytelling of decades upon decades !? Sometimes, it’s just absolute chaos and authors and artists and creatives in comics retcon each other literally ALL THE TIME !?!?!?!? Carol Danvers has fought a clone of herself at least 4 times over the course of her comic book history — it’s a part of her character’s journey to always be fighting herself and challenging herself (literally). What other fucking storytelling device is going to have that other than superhero narratives???

I bring this up bc I want us to get over the “first ten years” of marvel studios — marvel has EARNED the public’s trust and money: they don’t NEED to make their name again. Endgame was a shot in the dark as far as I’m concerned — it was the combined weight of storytelling & luck over the course of a decade starting with Kevin Feige and Joe Quesada and Jon Favreau’s combined gamble with Iron Man and RDJ. We all got lucky with that era of Marvel bc it still had to earn the audience’s trust; it had to SELL itself to a public that up until that point had no real exposure to Marvel superheroes and its universe.

We won’t see that AGAIN.

Please, for the love of Chris Evans’ velvet clad ass at the 2019 Oscars, get OVER it. Please just go to these movies & have fucking fun — stop trying to guess at what they’re building to bc I’m so exhausted with news outlets telling me “Marvel is failing” or “Marvel is directionless” or “Marvel has lost its edge.”

No, you just don’t want to enjoy superhero movies anymore that are just self-contained and sensational. You NEED there to be something more and something ATTACHED to this epic labor of CGI, art, and ridiculousness. In other words, it’s not enough for you.

I’ve gone to Black Widow, Shang-Chi, Eternals, No Way Home, Doctor Strange, and Thor the past couple of years and I’ve loved all of them, but not because I expected there to be MORE attached to these movies. I didn’t need there to be MORE AND MORE AND MORE — I went and saw great superhero media. I saw characters I loved from the comics I grew up huffing transformed into fun and entertaining live action movies.

Please just go to these movies and watch Doctor Strange wear a fucking screaming cape of undead spirits and watch Thor turn an army of 7 year olds into epic warriors and watch Eternals for a beautiful & diverse cast of people with cool powers. And if you miss the Infinity Saga so much, GO REWATCH IT — but please leave the interconnected shit out of it. I’m exhausted.

And I’m so sorry if I offended anyone with this rant — not my intention, this is more just me RANTING my dumb opinions on the internet 🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖

[noonmutter]

Hellraisers: Havenseeker

( TW: just plain yucky at the beginning. Not too detailed, but it’s about disguises and bodily fluids. )

"Just make me look dead."

The animated arguing came to a screeching halt when Terry finally offered a suggestion. Cay and Shedwyn had been going back and forth for what felt like an hour on the best way to sneak the newly-reconstituted Gilnean back to the realms of the living. The Alliance portals were guarded by soldiers who absolutely would've stopped them, the Horde portals were guarded by soldiers who probably would've had an awful lot of questions about the pair of humans, and illusory magics would be caught by both. Ceasefire or no, there were issues.

The suggestion to make him look like an elf had been met with reluctance, mostly because nobody would believe he was an elf for more than a second, no matter how good his Thalassian was. The group lacked much in the way of materials to do anything particularly advanced, like building up his ears or lengthening his eyebrows, and they certainly couldn't make his eyes glow. They didn't even have a decent set of goggles, which seemed to briefly break the elf, to Terry’s amusement.

Still, it was Terry. The idea of a Forsaken disguise hadn't really come up. That Terry himself was the one suggesting it just felt wierd, and for a second, Shedwyn considered taking his temperature. He certainly understood the reaction, it wasn't like he wasn't aware of his own open hatred of the deaders, but Terry was also a practical man.

"Easy enough t' do with some dirt, some shitty clothes, an' a lotta bodily fluids. Right?"

"...Well, yes, I suppose, but..." Shedwyn's fingers flexed for lack of anything to grip. She would have been so much more comfortable doing this with magic.

Cay tilted their head, less horrified by far. It paid to be the outsider, sometimes. "Well. If- if you insist on being Forsaken, we- we need to find something dead for you to roll around in, first."

"Eh. In a pinch I kin just throw up a few times."

"Eww."

"Oh I'm sorry, is it gauche t' use barf fer deader stench instead o' rollin' about in a carcass?"

"No, it's just- rolling in dead stuff doesn't involve awful retching noises that- that make me want to throw up as well."

"It's all a matter o' findin' silver linin's. Fer example, this is the first time in ages I've 'ad anythin' t' throw up with."

"...I'm putting on music."

Terry didn't like throwing up, but he had a lot more fun with it than he'd expected to after that conversation. The worst part of disguises wasn’t what he had to make himself look like–he’d dolled himself up to fool Forsaken more than once in his life–but how hard he had to commit to make it work. Being squeamish wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Clothing was easy enough to manage; even if Leon hadn’t brought him some stuff that nobody would be upset if it got destroyed, they could’ve found plenty of crappy rags to make crappier with a quick jaunt to Revendreth. He did feel a little bad about throwing up on them on purpose, but his penance was having to wear it afterward with little more than a cursory wipedown to clear off the… mass. Rinsing it out would’ve defeated the entire purpose.

Leaving his hair alone after they’d mashed dirt and other things into it was going to drive him absolutely insane, though. It’d only gotten worse once Dwyn listed out all the things she was doing to it. He wasn’t sure if she was doing that on purpose or if she genuinely thought it’d help, but…it wasn’t helping.

The worst part, by far, was always the damage. There were a couple notably well-preserved undead, but they weren’t common, and Terry didn’t want to gamble on it. He also had no desire to put some janky stitching in his arms, though he’d done it before when he was really short on options. With enough other stuff available, thankfully, they didn’t need to torture him. The group opted to go with discoloring patches of his skin with some of Theotar’s tea. It provided a sufficiently greenish cast to his otherwise too-ruddy skin to suffice, though it wouldn’t last very long. Also it burned a little and Terry was concerned about that, despite Cay’s reassurances.

The easiest part, by contrast, was speaking. Terry’d had to learn Gutterspeak years ago, and he was as fluent in it as he was Thalassian. As long as he looked dead, it was hard to tell he wasn’t unless somebody went looking for missing bits or something.

After all that preparation, it was almost disappointing how quickly they were allowed to pass through Oribos and step out into Orgrimmar.

“They barely even looked up!”

“Terry.”

“Bloody lazy jackoffs, it’s not like bein’ a guard is a hard job!”

“Terry.”

“Might as well’ve been bloody asleep, fuckin’ hell…”

“Terry.” Shedwyn reached up and held his chin between her fingers. “I know they offended your sense of professionalism and all but you need to shut up.”

Terry glanced briefly around them, noticing a couple of orcs and trolls giving them funny looks. After a few tense seconds, they collectively decided it wasn’t worth the effort to ask and moved along. With a quiet sigh, he looked back down at his tiny wife. “Sorry.”

Cay stifled a giggle, but only barely. It was pretty damn funny. They did recognize the need to get moving, though, so took hold of Terry’s (gross gross gross don’t think about it Caythaes just go) sleeve and insistently tugged him down the hallway. “I could watch you two all day, but- I’d rather not do it here? The- the portals to Shattrath are this way.”

Shedwyn let him go so Cay could manhandle him, as much because Cay was right as because it made Terry make that adorable ‘I don’t know how to feel about this’ face of his. Terry said nothing, only stumped along behind the elf as he was functionally dragged the rest of the way through Orgrimmar’s portal rooms. He nearly threw up a second time once they emerged onto the repaired-many-times-over streets of Shattrath; portal travel still wasn’t kind to him.

Since Shedwyn and Terry seemed content to proceed in silence, Cay took it upon themself to fill the void. "So, the Tart Apartments are off the Scryer's tier and- and there's a lot that are still unoccupied. They come furnished and everything, if you'd like to stay there."

“Th’ wot?”

“Tarts, Terry. The Succulent Tarts? The performers Leon goes to see all the time? I’m one of them?”

Terry made the face again. “...My safe’ouse belongs t’ a burlesque troupe?”

Shedwyn’s eyebrow jumped up. “That can’t be the first time you’ve encountered that.”

“Well, no, but–”

“Great!” Cay chirped, continuing to pull Terry along by his sleeve. Nobody had stopped them, and they saw no reason to stop if that didn’t happen. “This way! They’re comfy and like I said, most of them are empty. You won’t even see anybody while you’re there, most likely. Unless- unless it takes a lot longer than I think it will to get you home, I guess.”

Shedwyn took the opportunity to smooth out various portions of her attire–sleeves, mostly; watching Cay rough Terry’s up made her very conscious of the wrinkles in her own–before she took a few quick steps to catch up. “It’s not a safehouse, precisely, but it is a place that nobody’s likely to come looking for you.” I hope. “Once we’ve got you situated and, I suspect, fed–”

Right on cue, Terry’s stomach growled like an angry cat, and Dwyn smirked at him. The man glared at her a little, almost daring her to comment. Aside from a little lift of her chin, she didn’t address it outright, moving on as though nothing had happened at all.

“–I’ll go back to pick up our other passenger and see what I can find out.” Terry couldn’t help but notice the face Shedwyn made when she said ‘find out.’ It was very much like the face a pyromaniac made when they were about to set fire to a building. The ‘I’m going to do something terrible and I’m going to really enjoy it’ face. It wasn’t remotely unexpected, since Terry had seen firsthand what the fucker had been trying to do–even in the feral worgen form he’d been, he recognized a gun aimed at his wife for what it was. You didn’t get to aim a gun at Shedwyn Lias-Ambroce and walk away unscathed. Terry didn’t even get to do that. He’d melted down the rifle he’d done it with afterward. There was no pity to spare for the fucker, though if he were a nicer man–Leon, maybe–Terry suspected he might’ve done it anyway. 

Instead, Terry found himself ducking into a theater in Shattrath and immediately missing the open air and the brighter light. He’d been enclosed entirely too much in the increasingly murky amount of time he’d been in the Shadowlands. Eonar had told him he’d forget, eventually, and for once, he was willing to let it happen. He’d actually begged her to help him forget the details. Let him keep the knowledge of what had happened, but never let him see it again. He couldn’t handle seeing it again. Please, please, never again…

They’d been talking, and he’d been drifting along on autopilot. Shedwyn was holding his hand and looking worriedly into eyes that hadn’t been seeing her til now. He could see the concern and, despite her best efforts, the pity hiding there. The elf’s–Caythaes? Caythaes’s was a lot more obvious, though he recognized they were also trying not to be. He appreciated that.

“...M’fine. Just… ‘ungry. Light’eaded. Yeah?”

Far from his most convincing lie, but it did its job and made them move on. He really was starving, and the notion of food that wasn’t made of whatever the hell it was–anima?–or rotten as soon as he got it was sounding better all the time.

Sitting down on a couch covered in pointless throw pillows felt almost surreal after…everything. The moment he sank his teeth into a simple sandwich, though, he couldn’t quite stop himself from weeping. Rather than staying in the room with him, Shedwyn quietly ushered Cay out and left him to collect himself. There was a promise to come back before long, but Terry wasn’t really listening.

He needed a few more sandwiches. And a nap. And more of the crazy brightly-colored fluffy blankets he found in a cabinet. And a shower. And a shave. …And another shower, there was so much glitter on him and he had no idea where it’d come from, he’d hardly even seen any before he sat down, what the HELL…

Okay, so. Another shower. And properly scrubbing this time.

After the third attempt did not prove successful–fucking glitter–Terry resigned himself to a bath, instead. If he was going to live in the bathroom, he’d at least enjoy it.

Once he discovered that every single toiletry in that bathroom except for the toothpaste–which he didn’t trust–also contained glitter, he gave up and went to bed.

The fine dusting of glitter that erupted from the sheets as he fell into them was met with an exhausted sigh.

At least it smelled nice.

( @mekandawn @shedwyn​  ... and also @succulent-tart​ just cuz you guys briefly had a squatter last September-ish. By the way all this happened late last year. IT’S TAKEN ME A WHILE OKAY. )

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

A Very Short Summary That I Think Kinda Represents All The Heartless Ships (That I Know Of): A Saga (It’s not)

THE JURY SQUAD (VILLIANS GOTTA VILLIAN) SHIPS

Dock x Alastor: A couple that acts like an old married couple before they’re even old. They probably acted like an old married couple upon their first meeting.

Alastor x Lorelei: Alastor is so confused but just kinda goes along with it. Lorelei be like ‘pls notice me senpai or else I’ll completely lose it. Ha ha jk jk lol...unless-’

Lance x Bandy: The embodiment of be gay and do crime. Can’t be in the same room without something going wrong in the best possible way. Make it their personal mission to ruin Alastor’s day.

Diana x Lorelei: Thought the other would be useless but then they weren’t. They really don’t want to like the other but then they do.

Lance x Alastor: Would probably hate each other at first, but even when they start liking each other they would pretend to hate each other, even though they both know they don’t.

Lorelei x Lance: He would come to all of Lorelei’s performances and cheer so loudly before she would even begin, and he would boo at everyone else that performs and try to ruin their performance. Lorelei pretends to be annoyed.

Lance x Dock: Lance would so be down with injuring someone for the sake of Dock’s experiments. Neither have a moral code so they can bond over that.

Bandy x Dock: Bandy constantly making jokes that Dock tries way to hard to understand. Sometimes they throws in jokes that don’t make sense on purpose just to see what conclusion Dock will come to.

Diana x Lance: Lance would try to goad Diana into fighting, and she would act like she’s too good for that, but then they both fight and have a great time.

Dock x Diana: Kinda ignored each other until Dock decided to make a cool looking gun for Diana. To which Diana didn’t like feeling like she owed a favor and helped with some experiment Dock was doing. Thus began the dynamic duo.

Alastor x Diana: They’re basically the only ones doing the mission for the sake of doing the mission. They would sit and talk for hours about deep topics.

Bandy x Alastor: Bandy listens to everything Alastor says, he just doesn’t do as he says. Alastor probably doesn’t completely trusts them, so always keeps tabs on them, so at this point Alastor knows everything about Bandy.

Bandy x Lorelei: Would use each other for personal reasons, and grow almost dependent on each other without realizing it. Slowly start seeing the other as a deeper person then a tool.

Diana x Bandy: She probably thought Bandy was annoying but they kept talking to her so she eventually grew to like them. They make a surprisingly good team when fighting.

Dock x Lorelei: I feel like Dock would really feed into Lorelei’s dark side to observe it, making her feel comfortable, like she could do anything and it wouldn’t phase Dock.

THE HEARTLESS SQUAD (WE PURE BRUH) SHIPS

Flint x Eira: Probably didn’t really like each other at first, but then grew to like each other. Flint really likes how Eira fights fair and gets really upset whenever Eira seems insecure and immediately tries to cheer him up.

Eira x Heartless: Eira thinks Heartless is hopelessly naïve and comments on it frequently, but if anyone else dared to say it Eira would be at their throats all like, “I’m sorry he’s not a cynical asshole like you.” Heartless would be constantly hugging Eira.

Flint x River: Flint teaching River how to fight, and River would try to use her medical expertise to help with his overheating. Constantly helping the other one out.

Doppel x Alchemy: Doppel would love being their assistant, and Alchemy would absolutely play him up during the performance. Alchemy would scold him for stealing customers money, but also they would keep it.

Doppel 2 x Alchemy: Alchemy would try so hard to give this poor man some confidence, constantly complimenting him. 

Alchemy x River: Wholesome. That’s it. That’s all that comes to mind when I think of these two. Brian empty, only wholesome.

Flint x Heartless: If Flint overheated Heartless would try so hard to carry him, ending up exhausted after carrying him a distance and Flint is over his overheating. To return the favor Flint carries Heartless basically at all times.

Flint x Doppel: Flint probably thinks of him as underhanded, but then comes to realize that this was how he survived on the streets. Doppel would try so hard to rope Flint into his schemes, to which Flint occasionally will.

Flint x Doppel 2: Would probably at first treat Doppel 2 the same way he treats Doppel, until he realizes he needs to be a lot more softer around Doppel 2. Flint gives so many head pats. Doppel 2 will sob whenever Flint overheats.

Eira x Doppel: Eira would constantly stop Doppel from his fun, basically babysitting him, and Doppel would try to get Eira to loosen up a bit. Sometimes Eira does, and it’s such a rush but he would never admit it.

Eira x Doppel 2: Eira would just protect Doppel 2 all the time, and then there was one time when he was down and Doppel 2 stepped up to protect him and he was just so touched.

Alchemy x Heartless: The positive reinforcement radiating off these two is insane. They literally just go around making people feel good about themselves while holding hands.

Eira x Alchemy: Really enjoys flustering Eira, and if Eira ever gets the courage to flirt back, even if it’s something small and doesn’t really make sense, Alchemy would just be more flustered then they’ve ever been in their life.

River x Heartless: Both of them would try and tell the other how they felt but then chicken out and talk about something completely unrelated while blushing like crazy, and the rest of the gang just looks at them like bruh.

Doppel x Heartless: Thinks Heartless being undead is the coolest thing ever. Honestly considers being undead with him, with Heartless always having to talk him out of it.

Doppel 2 x Heartless: The. Encouragement. Heartless’s constant reassurance to Doppel 2 makes him feel very comfortable around Heartless and he opens up a bit to him.

Alchemy x Flint: Flint would be so in awe of all the stage performances Alchemy does, and Alchemy kinda shows off a bit when Flint is watching.

River x Doppel: Literally the only person who could rein in Doppel, get him to calm down and just play some cards, and no, that doesn’t mean gambling.

River x Doppel 2: River would kinda train Doppel 2 as her apprentice since fighting isn’t really his thing, and they would heal the crew together.

JURY/HEARTLESS (ROMEO AND JUILET STYLE) SHIPS

Lance x Eira: Sword fights. So many sword fights of the homoerotic variety. Neither of them expected Lance’s flirting to turn serious, oop. Also potential meeting in childhood head cannons. 

Diana x Alchemy: They would say something about how Diana’s outfit was cool, and Diana would begrudgingly say something nice about Alchemy. They’ve caught themselves in a compliment war.

Dock x Flint: Actually fascinated with Flint’s low tolerance to heat, keeps trying to figure out why, and Flint is all like, ‘It ain’t that deep’.

Lance x Flint: Flint be like ‘could you at least TRY to fight honorably and fairly?’ and Lance be like ‘lamo what does that even mean?’ Lance thinks it’s so funny when Flint gets mad when he fights dirty.

Diana x Doppel: Shoots him on sight but he always dodges; it’s almost like a game for them at this point.

Diana x Doppel 2: Would have soft moments together that Diana would viciously deny to anyone that dared ask. So what if you walked in on them watching a movie together, it’s a new killing tactic shut up Alastor.

Bandy x River: Her nice nature throws them off a bit, unsure of how to respond to such sincerity, and they would teach her so many jokes that River would go around telling everyone, making Bandy so proud.

Alchemy x Lance: The flirting would never end. Ever. It doesn’t matter what situation their in, it doesn’t matter if they’re in the middle of a very serious fight to the death. Flirting. And nobody knows that it’s serious but them.

Alastor x Heartless: Alastor was trying to act like they were the ultimate enemies, but Heartless is all like, ‘why don’t we sit down and talk about this?’

Bandy x Alchemy: Could you imagine them up on stage together? They would be constantly trying to out do the other, making a game out of who could dazzle the crowd more.

Alchemy x Lorelei: Both performers but in different areas, they would understand the stress of it, and talk about it frequently.

Dock x Doppel: Doppel would be such a little shit to Dock, and sometimes he tires to help Dock with an experiment for fun but messed up everything, but somehow Dock still had a good time.

Dock x Doppel 2: Just so much of Dock obsessed with trying to figure out what the hell Doppel 2 even is, and Doppel 2 apologizing when he doesn’t get clear answers.

Lorelei x River: A secretly not a soft girl and an actual soft girl that could still destroy you. This is a power couple if I’ve ever seen one.

Lance x Heartless: Lance would do everything in his power to try and make Heartless angry. Heartless’s constant positivity makes Lance want to see how far it could go.

Diana x Heartless: Whenever Diana goes to kill someone, the person she’s trying to kill is usually never nice to her, so this is confusing. 

Alastor x Flint: What if in the middle of the fight Flint just straight up picks him up, and it looks weirdly suggestive, and now they’re both flustered.

Bandy x Heartless: They would just go around and have fun to be honest. I feel like they would share a sense of humor.

Lance x River: Didn’t expect her to be good at fighting, but when she shows that she is, he is absolutely ecstatic. If they dated he would go around and brag about how his girlfriend could take him and the person he was bragging to down in a fight.

Alastor x Eira: Both kinda have that I-look-like-a-twink-but-I-will-mess-you-up energy. Both of them would just sit there denying their feelings so hard.

Dock x Eira: Their both stoic most of the time, viewing this fighting as impersonal and just a means to their own end. This kinda forms a comradery.

Lance x Doppel: Lance is interested in Doppel’s really weird street fighting tactics. Would actually stop fighting to teach each other tactics, which can get very handsy.

Lance x Doppel 2: He would keep trying to make Doppel 2 fight him, and if Doppel 2 throws the lightest punch ever, Lance acts like Doppel 2 just took over the world and is cheering him on.

Diana x Flint: Why can I imagine them both constantly suggesting to the other person that they could join their side at any time?

Bandy x Eira: Eira is so serious and Bandy thinks it’s hilarious. They would probably debate about their morals often, neither ever accepting the other’s morals but begrudgingly admitting the other has a point.

Lorelei x Heartless: Lorelei had put up this nice front but accidently lets Heartless see a different side, to which Heartless is all like, woah neat. Lorelei feels a bit unsure of how to handle acceptance.

Bandy x Doppel: Would absolutely hit the town solely to mess with people. Bandy would be really useful to steal stuff, so Doppel would just goad them into stealing things and then steals them from Bandy, which Bandy thinks is so funny.

Bandy x Doppel 2: They would mess with Doppel 2 so hard, his anxious reactions were funny to him. But also, he doesn’t like it if other people mess with Doppel 2 too much. Like, that’s his job and his job only.

Dock x Alchemy: The way Alchemy can switch their appearance fascinates Dock, and Alchemy would just flirt with Dock so hard but he wouldn’t understand any of which, which they think is hilarious. 

Alastor x Alchemy: Alastor is not happy that Alchemy flirts with him at every given opportunity. Like, he’s very busy being enemies and trying to kill all magic users, stop making him feel things right now.

Dock x Heartless: Dock would be practically frothing at the mouth thinking of how Heartless actually functions, seeing as he’s undead and all. And since Heartless wants to know his origins as well, maybe they’d find out together.

Lorelei x Doppel: She thinks of him as a ‘ruffian’ or something like that. He thinks she’s stuck up. They want to absolutely murder each other. So what’s with this weird sexual tension?

Lorelei x Doppel 2: Would be so sugary sweet to him as she tries to make him do her biding or something.

River x Dock: Two very different doctors, yelling at each other their ideals on what a doctor is. Can and will annoy the other one while they work. Dock will make improvements to River’s prosthetics. 

Alastor x River: Once Alastor would be injured and alone, and River would find him and heal him and get him back to the Jury before leaving immediately. Alastor is going crazy trying to figure out why.

Flint x Lorelei: Why do I feel like they probably had a one night stand and then when they met on opposite sides of the battlefield they were like ‘oh. shit.’

Alastor x Doppel: When a rude little gremlin meets a terrifying librarian. Alastor is trying to get Doppel to stop doing what he’s doing which only fuels his desire to keep doing what he’s doing.

Alastor x Doppel 2: Thinks Doppel 2 shouldn’t exist but then when Doppel 2 is crying about it he sort of becomes sympathetic about it. Like, together they try find a way to get Doppel 2 to not exist, which turns weirdly intimate? 

Diana x River: Diana probably caught feelings first when River drop kicked Dock. If either of them got kidnapped by the other side they other would always go visit the prisoner all like ‘I just want to go check on them, god guys.’

Bandy x Flint: “Fights are a serious thing. Don’t take it as a joke!” “Yeah, Yeah, that’s what I’m doing.” “THEN STOP SWITCHING ME WITH YOUR WEAPON SO YOU CAN HOLD ME!”

Me realizing that for most of these they could just be read as how they interact with each other rather than a ship. Also me ignoring that.

This was basically an excuse for me to decide who I want to ship.

Characters belong to @abd-illustrates​

[ben-the-hyena]

If no one else has... Hatbox or Ghosthost.

Why not both !

Hatbox Ghost :

OTP for them: EMILY. FOREVER EMILY. WE MAY HAVE NOTHING MORE THAN A PIN OF THEM STANDING NEXT TO EACH OTHER AND HER TO BE CANONICALLY HIS BRIDE, IT IS ENOUGH FOR ME TO ENVISION THEM AS WHOLESOME, LOVEY DOVEY, CONNIVING AND PASSIONATE. I DON'T CARE IF THEY ORIGINALLY INTENDED HER TO HAVE BEEN EVIL AND HAVING KILLED HIM, OR IT TO HAVE BEEN AN ARRANGED MARRIAGE SINCE HE LOOKS OLDER, MY FANON, MY RULES. Love to imagine her as the faceless bright eyed one, not only because she is the one on the pin with him but also because she was one of the earliest and stayed quite long therefore is iconic, and I find her design the coolest that should never have been replaced

BROTP for them: Constance aside whom he despises, I love to see him get along more or less well with the other attic brides. He really has a fun energetic joking and sarcastic friendship with the Corpse Bride made of games and challenges, his friendship with Millie is kind of tender and protective because she is precious and very young compared to him as well as shy and innocent, he does like the Blue Spinster even if he finds her annoying and too loud and is sometimes embarrassed by how shameless she is, he does kind of like and sometimes has fun with the Tokyo bride even if he can be very creeped put by her and is not at all a fan if her tastes and morals NOTABLY the ones close to Constance like black widowing, and since he meets her in one of my episodes has a lot of sympathy and tenderness towards Mélanie and feels very bad for her and is protective of her against the Phantom he hates for that and did his best to be a moral support the time he hanged out with her and has since then been wondering what had become of her and where is she now. In short all his friends are women, let us say he was a feminist for the time period, part of why Emily fell for him since he respected her

Other ships: nope, none lol

What kind of fic I’d write about them: the fact I would write about his origins and death aside I would also write plots from episodes I wanted to direct one day, like the one he takes Emily on a very special anniversary vacations in Hollywood Tower Hotel but while they are away shit happens in the attic only he could remedy but he keeps refusing to return and minimilizes things, the one he and Emily have a big fight that almost drags them apart or rather what they think crying and getting support on their respective sides but events have them return to each other closer than ever, an episode where he would get dragged with the Hitcchiking Ghosts' shit far from the mansion after Ezra gambled but lied on his name passing as him since they both look corpse-like, one he and Emily are so desperate for a child on Mother's Day that they want to adopt a blind wandering orphan but struggle because the ghosts oppose not out of evil but out of ethic and they have to choose what would be better for him livikg with the dead or the living, or one he would confess to the brides that back in 1992 when he had been determined to go to a new haunged place that would want him and take Emily with him once he would have found he had actually returned because he had had a very haunting, bad and evil experience in a place called Phantom Manor with another, poor bride in it tortured by her evil father even himself, an undead, feared

A favorite canon moment: he doesn't have any, except standing there lol does the Marvel comics continuity where he is like a sort of mentor for Danny telling him about the magic behind that house counts because it's cool to see him as indeed a good guy ?

Color that reminds me of them: no matter how he has been blue and green since 2015, I am forever faithful to his original palette aka monochromic like an old picture minus his golden tooth. Therefore old black and white, as in not just black and white but when it looks like it's a filter from an old picture or movie

Song that reminds me of them: I will be honest, none unfortunately

A headcanon about them: he was banished from 1969 to 2015 because the Ghost Host and Master Gracey had FINALLY found a Gracey descendant and even better knew paranormal therefore could be spoken with and they were eager to know more about him and make him visit the family mansion when they invited him in. In the meantime, Hattie was doing a show a for the brides in the attic, upon a bet with the Corpse Bride to prove them and especially her he could juggle with anything. His cane, his hat, a ball, a candle... a hatchet. The cane fall, he tripped on it and rolled it, fell over and everything he was holding sprang everywhere, the hatchet ending RIGHT into Gracey's skull as the Ghost Host opened the door for him. And he didn't return as a ghost and had no children yet. The last Gracey was forever gone. That was the last straw for the Gravey masters who already hated him and kicked him out of the mansion, not pf the property since they did know Emily was married to him and she still could see him in the graveyard but NEVER ever again in the mansion for never pulling this kind of shit again as they thought. Now in 2015 he returned for reasons I had not thought of until TODAY : they found out upon deeper searches that his name was Gracey but he was just a homonyme and had nothing to do with their own Gracey branch that did end with Emily like they had thought for decades, therefore rightfully. They HATED having to do that since they remember the horror and anger they felt and did find the guy attaching family or not, they had no real reason to keep him out anymore and reluctantly allowed him back in. Needless to say, he rubbed it at their faces for weeks and celebrated with the brides (minus Constance) especially HIS bride now he could finally be back in bed with her

A random AU I think up on the spot for them: like it is for a lot of characters in franchise, how things would have been if he and his wife had not been murdered on their wedding night and had lived on. He and Emily would be happily married for decades til a later death would do them part (not since they would reunite as ghosts here too but very old looking and fulfilled with a long untragical life behind them and a descendance striving) with a lot of children like they always wanted

Anything else: THE BEST PROOF FANBASES CAN BE STRONG ENOUGH IF UNITED : IT TOOK 46 YEARS, BUT HE WAS FINALLY PUT BACK IN THE RIDE ! LET THAT BE AN EXAMPLE FOR ALL FANBASES AND A MESSAGE OF HOPE

Ghost Host :

OTP for them: none really. Just that in my headcanon he and my fanon Elizabeth Henshaw loved each other as teenagers but due to racism it was impossible and her family moved. He never saw her again and never loved romantically again

BROTP for them: as a trio with Master Gracey and Constance Hatchaway since I headcanon they are siblings, he the eldest. They do have lots of differences now they all are reunited and comfortable in their deaths and that it was found she was a black widow the whole time and that he has to lead 998 other ghosts with their contradicting opinions, but they were still very close as children and he was deeply devasted each time one died, so much findinf out Constance and Emily whom he had raised since Master Gracey's death had died on the same night had him hang himself

Other ships: none at all lol

What kind of fic I’d write about them: I would either write his origins and how he was before dying or like other haunts like Hatbox Ghost plots of episodes I had in mind like having to deal with a human who now sticks around, or lose his mind and needing a pause after years and years of leading nonstop or some fluff about his family, his siblings and his niece notably, either alive or dead already

A favorite canon moment: "There's no turning back now. Of course, there is always MY way~" thundercrack and you see his hung corpse. CHILLS

Color that reminds me of them: green and purplish blue

Song that reminds me of them: the mansion's theme when he speaks of course

A headcanon about them: he has a hatchet and so does Constance (and in my HC Master Gracey) because their mother was the heiress of a big woodcutting company and she gifted them on her deathbed to teach them things could start as low as a lumberjack having to do his work himself and be able to be both beneficial and dangerous, in short to teach responsibilities one last time (CONSTANCE DIDN'T REALLY GET THE CONCEPT...). They would sometimes have fun doing a choregraphy with it singing the company's motto as their secret handshake ; with one voice less after Master Gracey died. At least they were all reunited to do again after they all died and met again !

A random AU I think up on the spot for them: other than how he would have been as a granduncle in the previous Hatbox Ghost AU, nothing

Anything else: his voice HMMMMMMMM sooooo bad it contrasts with his looks

[ask-marcus-cally-and-ari]

Only Human

Chapter 16: Sleeper - Part 1

“Wait. You want us to do what?”

“Strike HECU. That’s where the Aspects are.”

“That place is the single most guarded place in all of Evo! It would be suicide to try and break into that d*mn base, especially if the Freak officers are there!” Gentle protested, taken aback by the order from the electronic voice.

“I have someone on the inside. You won’t have trouble breaking in. As for the officers, why do you think I gave you so much of the bioweapon?”

“Even if we used the bioweapon, we still have to go through Rudra and all of her lackys. I’ve seen that woman in action and she is not to be taken lightly. That bioweapon won’t do anything to stop her!”

“And I don’t want to be on Noir’s bad side again,” RED shuddered.

“You don’t have to be. You don’t have powers. And if the Aspects get affected by the bioweapon, they won’t be a problem anymore.” The voice hummed. “As for Rudra and her lackeys, what the weapon does to everyone else will keep their attention, or at the very least alter how many can come after you.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Brutal asked, crossing his arms.

“You’re smart, aren’t you? At least, a little. Think of something. Either that or get the Leech into something electronic so I can control the place’s technology.”

“We could try it on Anita’s tech,” one of the Undead Stoner Scouts suggested. “She’s got some crazy sh_t just hanging out in her lab.”

“If you could capture her, I’d appreciate it. Better to keep her tech out of the hands of our enemies.”

“Ain’t no way we’re capturing her! That lady’s crazy!”

"That's why I said if."

“That’s still asking too much,” they grumbled.

“Tell you what,” the voice groaned with a mechanical sigh, “just try, okay? I’ll add a pound to what I’m giving you if you succeed. Or get the bioweapon in her.”

"...it's a gamble, but not impossible."

“Marcus, slow down! You could choke!”

“Isn’t everything like that?”

---

“F*ck that!” Marcus replied, wolfing down a plate of rice. “I’m starving! This is the first good meal we’ve had since going on the run!”

“It has been awhile since we’ve eaten anything other than McDonalds,” Ari added through a mouthful of rice. “I’m with Marcus on this; I’m hungry!”

Cally, who had started with the chicken, sighed. “Fair enough,” she conceded. “You never mentioned the food was this good, Intelligent.”

“Didn’t seem important at the time,” he shrugged, eating a plate of meat and mushroom stir fry. “Eat as much as you want, HECU’s good about preparing plenty of food for the employees.”

“I dunno about the angel. She seems like a hardcase,” Marcus commented.

“You should talk,” Cally snickered, and Ari hid a smile.

“I think she’s the one who mandated HECU provide quality food for employees,” Spyper remarked between chews. “Her and Soldine both signed off on it a while ago.”

“Hmm... opinion slightly revised. She’s a hardcase, but not a really bad one.”

Spyper snickered. “Wait until you see her in action.”

“Heh. I like that endorsement,” Cally smiled. “But real talk, when are we gonna get access to our Aspect powers? Marcus’s body has apparently stabilized from whatever his are, but now what?”

“I overheard Rudra and Anita talking about it,” Spyper started, “Apparently, your powers will only show themselves when they’re first needed.”

“Of course they will,” Marcus grumbled. “F*ckin’ bullsh*t.”

“They’re trying to come up with a way to activate the powers sooner, but they’ve got nothing so far,” Intelligent sighed.

Ari whined. “...I didn’t like mine. All those people’s fear and pain...”

“The power of the Heart is strong, but it has a lot of drawbacks,” Intelligent admitted painfully. “You’ll need a lot of practice to control your Aspect.”

“And I just get a boosted intellect,” Cally smiled. “I really don’t see a problem with that.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Intelligent warned. “You never know when your powers will turn on you.”

“What do you think mine would do?”

“I’m not sure, but whatever drawback you get won’t be a fun one to have.”

Cally winced. “Oh boy... I-”

An alarm blared through HECU, interrupting the conversation and causing all three teens to jump in shock.

“What the hell is that!?” Marcus gasped, his nerves on end.

“ALERT! ALERT! THERE HAS BEEN A BREAK-IN!” a computerized voice called.

“SH*T! Alright, lunch is over, come on!” Spyper gasped, grabbing the Trio and pulling them from their seats.

Marcus grabbed his gun and racked the slide, ready to fire on the first person unlucky enough to choose him as a target.

Running out of the cafeteria, the Trio were met with a horde of HECU soldiers and officers marching down the hall, flashing red from the emergency alarms overhead. An officer broke away from the crowd and ran up to the Trio.

“Come on, we need to get you three to safety! Hostile Freaks have broken into HQ!”

Ari looked around fearfully, eyes glowing blue as they and the rest of the Trio were led down the hall and to a panic room reinforced with heavy steel and concrete.

“Just stay here, we’ll neutralize the hostiles!” a captain ordered. “Spyper, Intelligent, you stay with them in case anyone gets through-!”

An explosion rocked the building and abruptly cut the officer off and knocked the Trio to the floor. A noxious red gas then began to fill the air, rapidly filling the hall and flashing in time with the emergency lights. Spyper and Intelligent blindly grabbed the Trio and pulled them into the reinforced chamber. Intelligent fumbled with the supplies inside, and managed to find three gas masks among the food and water. Acting quickly, he and Spyper pulled the masks around the faces of the teenagers, securing them tightly.

Marcus’s eyes were wide, and his grip on his gun tightened as he was pulled to his feet.

“The masks will keep the bioweapon from hurting you. Don’t worry about me and Spyper, the fumes can’t hurt us!” Intelligent said rapidly, pulling Ari and Cally to their feet. “There’s another panic room beneath HECU; if you can make it there, you’ll be safe! We’ll hold the Freaks off as long as we can!”

Marcus nodded and led the Trio out, ready to fight the moment a hostile Freak got in his way.

Which didn’t take very long. The first person he unloaded on had charged Ari from the red fumes and gotten six rounds for his trouble. Marcus reloaded his gun, looking around as if daring someone else to start something. The red gas had filled the halls at this point, reducing visibility to effectively nothing. The fumes were so thick that Marcus couldn’t make out anything beyond them aside from the continued blinking of the alert lights, which made the red gas glow an eerie crimson. “Come on!” he snapped through the mask. “Anyone else want to start sh*t?!”

His eyes were glued to the gas, vigilantly watching for any signs of danger as he led Ari and Cally to safety. His breathing was harsh through his mask and it was becoming excessively warm, and the straps around his head were starting to scrape across his scalp, irritating his skin and making the mask increasingly uncomfortable to wear. Marcus gritted his teeth, the grating of the mask and the heat around his face aggravating him more than he expected it to. The power of the Body gave him heightened senses, but everything he felt was magnified tenfold, and so the mask went from a protective layer to keep him safe from the fumes to an antagonizing presence that only served to rile him up further.

Noticing this, Cally sped up, pulling Marcus and Ari with her. “Come on! The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you can take it off!”

“How much further do we have to go!? This thing is driving me nuts!” Marcus gasped, exasperated and starting to pull on the sides of the mask.

“Hopefully not much longer, but you can’t take it off yet! If this gas affects us, I don’t know what it might do!”

Marcus set his jaw and clenched his teeth even tighter, bracing himself against the sensory nightmare that the gas mask had become.

“Marcus? Cally? Ari? Is that you?” came a voice, and Javier’s aunt, wearing a mask, ran up to the Aspects. “What are you doing out here?!”

Marcus blinked in surprise, taken aback. “Wha - What are you doing here?”

“I was here when the hostiles got in! Here, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

“Wait! We’re supposed to go beneath HECU! There’s a safe room there!” Ari blurted.

“I don’t think Marcus is going to make it. He’s already clawing at his head.”

“Wha - It’s just the mask! It’s irritating him! That’s why we need to get to that safe room so he can take it off!”

“The exit is closer. You’re home free once you’re there.”

“But what if the hostile Freaks are waiting for us out there!?”

“Hmmm... you’re right. Alright, to the safe room we go.” Javier’s aunt grabbed Cally and Ari’s hands and raced down the hall, Marcus trailing just behind as his breathing grew hoarser and increasingly ragged.

“Hate... this... stupid... mask!”

“Just a little further, Marcus!” Ari gasped. “We’re almost there!”

Marcus stumbled forward, gasping for breath, and Cally let him steady himself on her arm.

“Marcus, what’s wrong? You look like you’re gonna be sick!”

“Can’t... breathe...”

“Marcus’s body is more sensitive than anyone else’s because that’s his aspect. Anything impeding his breathing would affect him worse than it would anyone else on Earth,” Cally commented, trying to keep Marcus on his feet. “We need to get him to the safe room! NOW!”

When the door to the downstairs area, where no gas existed, slammed shut and Marcus was able to take off the mask, he did without a second thought, gasping for breath and collapsing on his knees. “Motherf*cker...”

Cally and Ari dropped to Marcus’ side, holding on to his arms.

“Marcus, are you ok?” Ari gasped, out of breath from their wild sprint.

Marcus got up shakily. "I'd have to get better to die,” He managed, climbing back to his feet.

“What do we do now?” Cally asked, keeping Marcus steady as he stood.

A knife thrown her way answered Cally’s question, and she flinched when the large shiv embedded itself into the wall right beside her head. "OH MY SH*T!" She gasped, quickly looking over her shoulder at the knife.

“Oh no…”

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Trio,” a familiar Australian voice chuckled, and a Sniper clad in black stepped into the light, a wicked grin across his face.

Marcus's eyes widened and he racked the slide on his gun, shaky though he was, and pointed it at the Freak.

“You’re looking a little sick there, Marcus,” he grinned, stepping closer. “Did the bioweapon get to you?”

"You wish, Brit. The mask did. F*ckin' thing." Marcus glared, backing up towards the door with the other Aspects, Javier’s aunt behind them.

“Hehehe...You three have been making escape after escape, always finding elaborate ways to get away from us at the exact moment you need it.” Brutal then raised his knife, pointing at the Aspects. “This time, you’re gonna stay right where you are.”

As the last word left Brutal’s lips, the door behind the Trio was swiftly opened before being shut just as quickly, Javier’s aunt making a sudden getaway, leaving the Trio behind.

"Wh- YOU B*TCH! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!"

“Sorry kids, but giving you to the Freaks has too much in it for me,” Javier’s aunt said coldly, locking the door and trapping the Aspects inside.

Marcus swore at her, then turned back to Brutal and unloaded on him. Swiftly dodging the bullets, Brutal pulled out his own gun and fired at Marcus, and a tranquilizer dart found its mark on Marcus’ left leg.

Marcus's eyes widened, then closed as he collapsed, unconscious.

“MARCUS!” Ari screamed, lunging for Marcus’ arm in a futile attempt to keep him on his feet.

Cally grabbed his gun, reloaded it, and pointed it forward, eyes wide in terror.

“One down, two to go,” Brutal chuckled, drawing closer to the Aspects.

"Back up! I'll shoot!"

“Go ahead, you’re a walking weapon anyways!”

“...what?”

“Don’t tell me nobody’s told you,” Brutal grinned, stepping closer and closer. “The Aspects are weapons, that’s all they are. Weapons meant to stop the Cataclysm.”

“We’re not weapons!” whined Ari. “We’re just kids!”

“That’s what you’ve been told, but you are beings of destruction, foretold to fulfil the prophecy and defeat Odi-Tron, stopping him from bringing about the age of Freaks. You’re just instruments for his downfall! You were built from birth to be just that!” Brutal flashed a sneering grin. “I’m not going after kids. I’m breaking the world’s weapons.”

Cally started to shake, her grip on the gun becoming unsteady. “We’re not weapons,” she hissed, clenching her teeth. “We’re just kids! You’re just making sh_t up!”

“Alright, nerd. How would you explain it? Why would you have these powers if not for this? They wrote their f*cking names on you, for Pete’s sake!”

“I - I don’t know! Maybe we were just given these powers because we were the best candidates! That’s how that works: You find the best people for a job!”

“And the best people for the job were a nerd who can’t stand being away from a computer, a kid who’s too nice for their own good, and a hothead from a rough neighborhood?”

“I’m the smartest person in my school, Ari’s the kindest person I know, and Marcus could bench press a tractor. I’d say we’re good candidates for the Aspects,” Cally retorted.

“If you want a better candidate for the Brain, look at Anita. She makes WMDs for fun! And Noir can shatter steel with her kicks, so she has Marcus beat. They just don’t have the right mental state.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Anita’s insane, and Noir isn’t as fight-crazed and bad-tempered as Marcus is. And you want the physical one to be willing to fight, right? Well, heh... as long as he’s awake, anyway.”

Cally and Ari continued to back up, keeping the unconscious Marcus behind them.

“Which, by the way, your friend isn’t. So you should probably just give up now.”

“No! We’ve come too far to just let you take us!” Cally snapped. “I’ll unload everything in this clip before that happens!”

Brutal rolled his eyes. “You heard her, guys. Do whatever the hell you want, but don’t kill them.”

Three mercenaries armed with various weapons stepped out of the shadows, grinning at the three. Cally swallowed hard and tightened her grip on the gun, quickly moving it between the three mercenaries.

Getting closer, one of the mercenaries reached pulled a gas mask from his duffel bag before reaching out to seize Cally by her arm, and in that briefest of moments, Marcus’s hand shot up faster than Cally or the mercenaries could perceive and grabbed ahold of the man's arm, holding his wrist in an iron grasp.

“WHAT THE F-” Marcus brought the mercenary down and drove a fist through the man’s chest, causing blood to splatter everywhere- and then he didn’t move. His head was bowed, and he seemed to have gone limp again.

The remaining Aspects and the last two mercenaries stood back in stunned silence, staring at the gorey scene like deer caught in headlights.

“What the f*ck was that? WHAT THE F*CK WAS THAT?!” cried Ari, trembling in shocked terror.

Brutal stifled a gasp, then shoved another mercenary towards Marcus. “Don’t just stand there, GRAB HIM!”

“YOU DIDN’T TELL US HE COULD DO THAT!”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT WOULD HAPPEN!?”

Cally looked down at Marcus. His hair shone red, as did the tattoo on his arm. And his eyes were still closed. “...he’s still asleep.”

“Wha - how!?” Ari gasped. “He just-!”

“If I had to guess, muscle memory. His is so good his body can run on autopilot now.” Cally paled. “...and you know how the hardest punch a human being can deliver is 44 times strong enough to break a skull? Based on what I just saw, he has no psychological block preventing him from hitting that hard.”

“So he could kill anyone in a single blow? F*ck that, I’m outta here!” the third mercenary cried, turning and running down the hall.

Cally looked expectantly at Brutal and the other mercenary.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not messing with that!” the last mercenary cried, backing away from Marcus.

“I’m not paying you to chicken out!” Brutal snarled, shoving him towards Marcus. “NOW GET HIM!”

And to the mercenary's credit, he tried. Marcus moved like lightning again, taking Brutal's shiv out of the wall and slicing the mercenary's neck with it. The mercenary let out a strangled cry before dropping to the floor, dead before he hit the ground.

“Oh for f_cks sake!” Brutal snarled, brandishing a second knife. “Why do I have to do everything myself!?”

Marcus didn't respond. Just stood there, limp and drenched in blood. He only moved when Brutal charged him, and only to dodge. When Brutal slashed at him, Marcus ducked, when Brutal leapt forward, Marcus leapt back. Every move that Brutal made was immediately countered, as though Marcus could read every movement before it even happened. Bristling with rage after another failed strike, Brutal finally dropped his weapons and spun around, his fist clenched until it turned white, poised to strike at Marcus’ head.

In an instant, his fist was stopped dead, held tight by Marcus’ open palm. Without his uttering a single word, Marcus’ hold tightened, and Brutal's fist was crushed by the power of a human hand.

[dnd5a]

Chronicle Entry LC515 – 31/08/1202: Heroes

This Chronicle entry, recorded by Senior Officer Pale, recounts his experiences with the recent attack on the Astral Fortress

After some degree of pestering from a multitude of both my betters and adjacents alike, I have decided it best to recount my actions from the attack from some weeks ago.

I was already awake when the attack started, making personal notes of my studies. The crash resounded throughout the building, sending rubble flying all about the place. The wall opposite myself collapsed, covering by wardrobe in, at minimum, two-hundred pounds of rubble. Arguably the best possible outcome, as were it destroyed, we would have some 379 undead clawing their way across the fortress.

An enormous, white, scaly leg stood atop the ruins, before a howling wind filled my ears and a biting frost caught me. A quick assessment proved that this situation was A) involving a white dragon, and B) bad.

I always have a contingency plan for all manner of things, attacks on the fortress included, and whilst I was not specifically prepared for an ancient dragon, the general plan still applies. Gather my juniors, make for the Bridge Between Worlds, and operate it for an escape. This assumes that fighting is not an option, which give the following assessments, makes that assumption applicable:

The surprise nature of the attack.

Milk’s habit of late-sleeping and need for prayer to prepare her magics.

Frostbite’s rather obvious repertoire of spells.

Twist’s lack of ability to deal with flying enemies.

Huck’s general inexperience with combating nonhumanoid opponents.

Whilst there are a variety of reasonable points to contradict this assessment, I had only the time for half a debate with myself before I was to be pulverised by several dozen-tonne dragon, so understandably I went with my initial conjecture.

Pushing my way out of the front door, I could see several severely injured senior officers laid in the halls. I hadn’t my usual undead entourage, nor my case, and thus any attempts to rescue these individuals would’ve simply resulted in another corpse, that being my own.

Once outside and thoroughly out of breath, I could see the full scale of the beast, and my calculations were reasonably accurate. It was some 64 feet snout to tail-tip, and likely weighed in excess of 29 tons. I must give some credit to the building’s designer, as even whilst structurally compromised, to say the least, it held it shape quite remarkably.

As predicted, my junior officers had successfully followed my escape plan, and were able to meet myself at the end of Argentum Row, all bar Huck.

___

“Took you long enough,” Call remarked.

Call has always been difficult. We don’t often see eye to eye much down to that reason.

“I’m terribly sorry, I was too busy almost being crushed by an ancient dragon,” I replied. Somewhat unnecessarily aggressive, I understand, but my faculties were not quite up to standard in that moment.

Milk cut in, a stammering shiver to her voice “Have you seen Huck?”

“I have not, no. I had a feeling the boy wouldn’t be able to keep up with the plan.”

“A shame,” Frostbite said, a smirk to his sunken, skeletal face, “may he rest in peace, I suppose.”

“He most certainly shall not!” Milk snapped. A rare sight, but proof of her integrity. “We have to go back for him. He’s just a boy!”

“T-then a boy he shall die! I’ve no patience for his idiocy.” Frostbite replied, somewhat disarmed by Milk’s aggression.

___

Now, I have received much criticism in the past for my apparent, ‘cowardice,’ from within the company and without. However, I raise that much of this criticism has come from so-called ‘heroes,’ fools who jaunt their way into mortal danger for some nebulous ‘greater good,’ only to die like fools.

Heroism is a convenient luxury for some, those with the tenacity to be struck down and stand again. Whilst many members of this company would likely call themselves heroes, or at least aspire to be one, I would counter that they are simply blessed with the fortitude to be a fool with little consequence. I have no such fortitude, and thereby I have no time to be a hero. The boy, Huck, is a fine young man and an upstanding soldier, but I will not die for him. I came here to live, and thus I refuse to die on any but my own terms.

___

“Please Pale, we have to help him.” Milk implored, ignoring Frostbite’s provocation.

“I agree. He might just be held up somewhere, and if we can help him, then it’s worth the time,” Call agreed, looking off towards the carnage.

___

They were fools. We were underprepared. I had few spells and no servants, Milk was very likely without spells entirely, and Call quite possibly was too. I was half-considering simply grabbing them all and leaving.

___

We argued for another 10 seconds, before falling rubble forced us to move some 21 paces east. When we stopped, Twist finally spoke up.

“I have his scent, he’s close.” She showed little emotion on her face, but her nose had a very consistent success rate of some 98%.

“If he’s close, we can save him!” Milk shouted. She was crying now, and whilst that was not uncommon, nor did it have much affect on my views, her crying would certainly impact her concentration on the task at hand.

“Fine. We will fetch the boy.”

“I knew you were good,” Milk sobbed, rushing forward and invading my personal space with an embrace. She knows it very much makes me uncomfortable, yet she does it anyway.

“I’m going to disagree with you there, but regardless, can you please stop so we can move. We’ve been stood around for some twenty seconds now and any longer will spell our deaths.”

___

We raced towards the junior officer’s quarters, Twist transforming into her alternate form to improve her scent-trailing abilities. We moved passed many dead, and witnessed the likes of Feather and Whisper attempting to face the dragon head on.

See my latter analysis for the opinion I hold of their behaviour.

Upon arrival, with aid from Twist pulling rubble away, we found Huck, unconscious and bloody in the rubble. I checked him briefly. His wounds were largely superficial, but the head trauma he had suffered could be serious.

I hadn’t the time to check him over again before a great wave of frost filled the street behind us. It would have hit us too were it not for Call. He took the brunt of the assault, before collapsing on the ground, his hands quickly blackening.

“I told you this was suicide. Just be glad that wasn’t us.” Frostbite chuckled.

With a swift crack and a loud crunch, Frostbite was sent reeling to the floor. Milk stood, based on the sound and the blood, one to two of her knuckles clearly broken, before rushing to Call’s side.

As Twist hoisted Huck onto her back and Call laid on the ground, minutes away from losing his arms to the cold, I had to make a decision.

Mustering my most powerful magics, I opened a gateway to a demiplane on a nearby wall. This was to be my final escape plan if all went wrong, but I had a different idea.

___

“Milk, I need you to bring Huck and Call inside. Frostbite, move people in the street towards the entrance, they’ll be safe in here. Twist, go back to my apartment and fetch my case. We’re turning this demiplane into a medical centre.”

___

I spent the remainder of the time inside the demiplane. The dragon came for us on a number of occasions, but by that point we had people to defend the entrance and stop it from collapsing, but it was still risky. If the demiplane collapsed, we would all be trapped, permanently, but it was a gamble I was willing to take. As to why I was willing, I am unsure. Perhaps I’ve been exposed to so many fools with illusions of heroic grandeur that they’ve started to rub off of on me. Whilst it’s improbable, Milk certainly seems to think that’s the case.

I treated the dying and the dead, some being individuals I knew. Not something I wasn’t used to, but an unpleasant experience for Milk, no doubt.

In conclusion, the attack took place over less than 20 minutes, giving me more than enough time to vacate the demiplane with my patients in toe before it collapsed. Huck has suffered a severe concussion, but it seems to have inflicted no lasting damage, whilst our timely medical attention has saved Call’s hands, though has put him out of commission for some weeks at minimum.

I am no hero, nor would I ever aspire to be one, but I can provide assistance were appropriate and reasonable. Milk insists that makes me one, but written definition shows that it requires a ‘compulsive bravery,’ that analytic rationality would quash.

[casino123aft]

Women and Poker Part II - the Exploitation of the Female Form

Some of the main hubs of poker are also the most sexualized cities in the United States, name New Orleans and then later Las Vegas. These cities are absolutely oozing with sex, and although this paper is not trying to make a moralistic argument decrying these wild cities' lifestyles, much of these images have stuck to the game of poker itself. Perhaps this phenomenon would not be so bad if it played out evenly between the two sexes, but all one sees is the portrayal of partially disrobed women advertising for poker sites. One only needs to log onto the internet and search for "Women and Poker" to have a dozen women in bikinis immediately pop up on the screen.

In fact, yours truly actually did run a search specifically for "Women and Poker", and here are some of the surprising results. In no particular order we present 10 of the most tasteful poker sites on the web:

-Pokerium Online Poker Room and Casino: The front page of this website is a model of good taste and restraint. Many of the searches yielded interesting results, but this website was head and shoulders ahead unibet Upon opening the home page one finds an illustration of a scantily clad brown-haired vixen with a flower in her hair(no real women were harmed during the production of this design). The interesting part of this drawing is that she is placed inside of a huge Ace of Clubs. In the middle of the card, where the woman is located, lies a very large club, and the stem of said club just happens to terminate in the center of the woman's crotch. Although there is a possibility that this not-so-subtle innuendo was unintentional, we would not bet on it.

-Next on our list is the deliciously tasteful advertisement on hollywoodpoker.com for their "Babes & Bounties" tournament. To begin with, the title itself should be enough to ruffle the feathers of most women poker players. Then, the image used on the page is of a woman in a bikini top with money in the background behind her. And finally, for those players who aren't sold by the picture in the middle, the site claims that "12 of the sexiest poker hostesses in the game" will be present at the table. It's a good thing too, because most serious poker players refuse to play in tournaments with any less than 8 sexy poker hostesses. Finally, jus tto make sure that one can notice all the different features on the side, there is a picture of a woman on the left-hand side of the screen dressed in her rather unsupportive underwear lying down in front of a laptop with poker chips lying around her body. She is happily wearing a pair of flattering white high heeled shoes so that she can model at any moment during her poker game. A truly classy website.

-PokerWorld.com, an up and coming online card room, is another tastefully crafted website, with nothing to offend save for their new "Topless Bonus". The "Topless Bonus: The Shape of Things to Come" seems a stretch: with this promotion they will "top up" your account with a free 20% bonus. The stingy bonus does not only fall way short of the 200% bonuses floating around on various sites, it also offends the eye. They advertise it with a small silhouette of a woman, hardly exposing anything whatsoever. Why they chose to try and correlate a 20% with topless women is a mystery, but they surely went for it.

-Not to be outdone, Jungle Poker has its own female spokeswoman: none other than the lovely Cheynelle Fraser, a bartender/model who is now the official face of Jungle Poker. Why a poker site would need a sizzling hot model as a spokeswoman is a grand mystery. We suspect it is because the photos of Cheynelle - which include several excellent cleavage shots - surely have everything to do with poker and nothing with selling sexuality. Although the site may be using the good looks of beautiful Cheynelle to help promote their site, they are not just about T & A on their site: on the front page of the site they have an advertisement for their heads up Sit & Go tournaments, featuring two headshots of a man and a woman, both fully dressed, challenging each other to a card game. Hurray for equality!

-Europeans are no exception when it comes to using alluring images of the female form to help them sell their products. In a recent article published on poker.gamble.co.uk, the author writes about the upcoming Great British Poker Tour, and the centerpiece image of this article is a nude woman relaxing in a bathtub full of poker chips. It's a good thing that they posted this picture, because nothing says Great British Poker Tour better than a woman bathing nude in poker chips.

-The most morbid result found during the search came from best-poker-rakeback.net on their rakeback advertisement, which features a frightening illustration of zombie woman in a corset, fishnet stockings, heels, and a short skirt using a rake to gather up some playing cards that must have fallen off a tree. Although the idea of having somebody literally raking poker cards is cute, we're not sure about the need for a sexy undead woman.

-Gambling blog Oddjack paid homage to the women of poker in an article titled "Top 10 Sexiest Women of Poker". This enlightening four part series takes the readers through their list of what they view as the sexiest women in the poker world. Just to give a small taste of their depictions of these women, we will go over the first three women they talk about. Each woman has a picture with a caption beneath it. At number ten on their list is Courtney Friel, a television hostess for the world poker tour. The picture they have of her is in a lacy tank top: fair enough. She's obviously OK with the picture considering she modeled for it. Underneath the picure is a caption that says "Stop teasing us Courtney, tear those laces off!"

The next featured profile is that of Evelyn Ng. Underneath her picture they put a quote that says, "Evelyn sure is one sweet ride..." Sadly, they did not even try to be creative with this comment, the only possible connotation for this remark is a sexual one. They also remarked in her profile that she won the WPT Ladies Night event and that, "Yup, she kicked ass. Asses that belong to Annie Duke and Kathy Liebert. Asses I don't want to see anytime soon. No matter how much they pay me to." This hilarious joke about the physical assets of two of poker's greatest female players was insulting to say the least.

At number 8 on their list is none other than Lily Elviro. This strong poker player who, besides being a strong poker player, is physically well endowed as well. The picture which they used for her was taken during a poker tournament she played in and shows her at the table holding a pair of cards. She is leaning forward a little showing a fair portion of her not so small breasts. Unable to resist, the comment beneath the photo says, "It's hard for Lily to always carry a heavy set of puppies like that." If it wasn't for such brilliant writing most of us would completely miss out on such hard to miss features.

-Next on our list is an article written by Toby Bochan on her poker blog. This photo-article, featured on about.com, is titled "The hottest women of poker", and it is essentially an amateur photo gallery of professional femal poker players. The women featured in this article are Evelyn Ng, Shannon Elizabeth, Clonie Gowen, Jennifer Tilly, Liz Lieu, Vanessa Rousso, Isabelle Mercier, Cyndy Violette, Jennifer Harman, Annie Duke, Kristy Gazes, Chantel McNutty, and Jennefer "Jennicide" Leigh. Perhaps the most disturbing part about this gallery is not that these women have their pictures posted, but that none of the pictures were studio pictures. They all seem like photos that were taken in a clandestine manner on a digital camera. Does this strike anybody as creepy?

-Coming last on our list is none other than Full Tilt Poker, who recently issued a challenge between Paris Hilton and Clonie Gowen. Their hearts were definitely in the right place: they were to host a heads-up challenge between the two women and the winner would take the $100,000 prize and donate it to the charity of her choice. This sounds good, so why does this make our trash list? Well, if you go to the website, the page they created for this challenge has these two women stacked up next to each other. The title for their statistics is called their "Sexy Stats", and just to make sure that the best poker player wins, they even added a "Who is sexier?" poll at the bottom of the page.

Thus concludes our trashy website list (NEED TO THINK OF A WAY TO PITCH THIS ARTICLE). Part IV will conclude "Women and Poker" by addressing what the future of women and poker may hold.

[regalentempire-a]

Song URL meme

RULES: spell out your url with song titles, and then tag 10 people

r - Right Now - Marc E. Bassy, Tory Lanez

e - Empire - Hollywood Undead

g - Gladiator - Zayde Wolf

a - Absinthe - Punchello (Prod. by 0channel, 2xxx!)

l - Let me live / Let me die - Des Rocs

e - Empty Crown - YAS

n - Name - Noisemaker

t - This is the Kingdom - Skillet

e - Echo - Starset

m - Marijuana Breath - Adam Jensen

p - Pray - put em in the dirt - Hollywood Undead

i - I Don’t Know You - The Rose

r - Reckless - Jaxson Gamble

e  - Eye of the Storm - Watt White

TAGGED BY:  @ioniacriminal (thank you! <333) TAGGING: @bigboisett @starthieve @sunszenith​ @pale-malevolence​ @kumihao @visionofnoxus @regina-tenebris and whoever else wants to do this. X’D sorry i’m lazy to tag since brain is ded. 

[theparanormalperiodical]

Ghosts Caught on Audio: The 7 Recordings and EVPs You Have to Listen To

It was only a week ago that I got a question from fellow tumblr user, @madphantom.

@madphantom told me that they picked up some paranormal activity whilst recording audio for a creative project.

The story goes that when they recorded audio for an actor who had died, things started to get weird.

When they replayed the audio, they realised that they had picked up a lot of static, and compared it to the iconic soundtrack from Slenderman’s notorious horror games.

Yikes.

And it was this story that reminded me of one my favourite horror film scenes, basically, ever from one of my favourite horror films, basically, ever.

There’s this scene from the film The Conjuring (which is based on the true case of the haunting of the Perron family) where they record the story of the haunting from one of the victims – the mother of the family.

And upon replaying the audio, they realised it didn’t actually record her voice.

After discussion of some key plot points, the recorder turned itself on and produced some seriously terrifying haunted noises.

Now, this didn’t actually happen as far as I can tell.

But it got me thinking: has paranormal activity ever been caught on audio?

There’s enough faked videos clogging up the youtube trending page to tell you we all love a bit of the supernatural making its online debut, and the same goes for audio recordings.

Go ahead, try ‘creepy audio recordings of the paranormal’ into youtube.

And so I was convinced that essentially, I had come to a dead end.

(Pun unintended.)

But then I remembered something:

Audio recordings are actually really fucking important when it comes to recording and investigating paranormal activity.

Methods like EVP and the use of Spirit Boxes have ruled the domain of ghost hunting since the late 20th century, and represent our desperate search for evidence of life after death.

And so, in today’s edition of The Paranormal Periodical we are going to be discussing the theories and histories behind EVP and Spirit boxes, and the 7 audio recordings of paranormal activity that you have to listen to.

So, what is EVP?

EVP – or electronic voice phenomena – are recorded sounds that have been identified as coming from spirits.

It was popularised by some bloke called Konstantins Raudive, and he himself recorded some seriously amazing EVPs.

He even claimed that he recorded political figures including Hitler and Churchill. Fancy a listen? Find a link to this recording is later in this post.

Now EVP is defined by Raudive as a short word or phrase from beyond the grave.

So no, you won’t be able to squeeze a 3000 word opinion piece from a historical figure of your choosing, I’m afraid.

But the conversation about paranormal audio recordings has been present ever since digital goods hit the shops. Just think of all those blurry photos supposedly evident of the undead!

In fact, it was actually a photographer who tried to capture the first audio recordings.

Attila von Szalay’s first recordings in 1956 apparently caught spirits saying some seriously scary stuff:

“Hot dog, art!...Merry Christmas and happy new year to you all”.

3 years later a swedish guy was recording some bird song.

Each to their own, I guess.

Anyway, he replayed the bird song, and he realised that he had captured evidence of the supernatural.

He made out his dead father’s voice, and even heard the voice of his dead wife. And she was calling his name!

A few recordings later and he picked up a message from another deceased relative, his mother.

Now according to theory, there are 3 types of EVP.

Basically, classification A is a clear voice, B is distinct but requires close listening, and C is a faint whispering.

EVP training is even required for ghost hunting in order to develop the ability to hear messages from the dead. Clearly this is serious business for fellow paranormal believers.

What’s a spirit box?

EVP’s require a digital audio recording.

Spirit boxes on the other hand allow spirits to use radio frequencies to talk to people that are actually alive.

Supposedly the ghosts can manipulate the energy of audio fragments to form words and phrases not unlike those heard in EVPs.

And the great thing about spirit or ghost boxes is that you don’t just listen to the dead – you can actually talk to them!

Normal practice involves asking questions and listening out for rather abstract responses. But the fact is this is one of the most famous and trusted methods of communicating with those beyond the grave.

The first official ghost box was created in the 1990s, and the inventor – Frank Sumpton – created it based off of EVP and an article he read on spirit communication.

But if you aren’t convinced by the ghost box, what about the Spiricom?

Invented in 1980, William O Neil created a device that could actually hold a conversation between a dead and a not so dead person.

Unfortunately – and to no surprise – no one actually reproduced the results O’Neil claimed he had.

Did you know that in 1979 parapyschologist Dr. Rogo claimed that you could get phonecalls from those that had passed away? People frequently report receiving a short one-way call from deceased relatives, and it has even been considered a phenomenon.

So, you’ve heard the theories.

But are you ready for the evidence?

Here are the 7 spookiest audio recordings of spirits:

#1 - The exorcism of Anneliese Michel

This is a recording from possibly the most famous case of possession of modern times.

Heck, it was even given it’s own film to document the case, The Exorcism of Emily Rose.

But if you haven’t heard the tale yourself, the story basically goes like this:

A devout catholic girl starts exhibiting strange behaviour.

From unexplained seizures to claims of hearing multiple ‘evil’ voices, she was eventually deemed possessed.

And whilst the many recordings of her exorcisms aren’t EVP or recordings from a Spirit Box session, this is firm evidence of how important recordings were to investigating evidence of the paranormal.

Check out this video to make your own mind up:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3aI8kpHxDM

And below is accurate footage of me noping the fuck outta here:

#2 - Next up is the Enfield Haunting

Now this case is interesting because it was largely considered a hoax evoked by 2 young girls.

Investigators used tape recorders and some EVP to assess the potential nature of the haunting.

What’s interesting here is that the debate largely centres around the supposedly possessed voice of Janet – the main girl involved – caught on tape.

Sceptics claimed it was produced by false vocal chords, and that we can all put on a creepy and different voice when we want.

But it was by analysing the actual vocabulary used, they could claim it was similar to that of a child and not a potential ghost or demon, and often evoked mannerisms similar to that of Janet.

Even on national TV, Janet waved her hand to get attention, put it in front of her mouth, and a strange voice was produced supposedly from nowhere.

Hmm.

What do you think?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OWgImgIRic

#3 - The Haunting of an Unnamed New York Hotel

In early 2007, the Central New York Ghost Hunters were asked to investigate a hotel in New York.

Why was it unnamed? The hotel in question asked for the name to be withheld from public discussions for the obvious reasons that their living visitor numbers would fall.

The investigator’s claim this investigation was one of their most active, which is not a surprise considering its long history.

(Unfortunately, this is hard to trace for this post as I do not have the name of the hotel…)

Anyway, the main activity they picked up was an EVP carried out by someone sitting on a staircase.

You can clearly hear a scuffle between two people as a woman asks someone to get off her, a rather sleazy ‘hello baby’, and even the ring of an old fashioned cuckoo clock.

Fancy a listen? Click the link: https://youtu.be/dXa0QrS-WV8

#4 - The Raudive Recordings

I’ve already mentioned Raudive and his innovatory practice, and thanks to his interest in EVP, he has created an incredible collection of evidence of the paranormal.

In total, he has 72,000 recordings of the paranormal talking.

Holy shit.

And this collection even contains the supposed voices of Hitler, Stalin, Mussolini and Churchill!

He claims Hitler spoke to him in Raudive’s mother tongue of Latvian which Hitler barely learnt while he was alive.

And what did Hitler say?

‘you are a girl here, or else you are thrown out’.

Yeah, I don’t know what that means either…

And what did Churchill say? Well, interpreters don’t really care much for what was said, but how he said it.

It apparently was a convincing EVP as it sounded like him, and was thus supported by many as evidence of the paranormal.

Some of these recordings were even conducted in laboratories to ensure accuracy, and Raudive invited members of the public to listen and interpret the recordings he collected.

So why not try your hand at it too?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dz1PzPrOXPE

#5 - The Glen Tavern Inn

This tavern stretches back to the prohibition era, and its speakeasy history – which included being a brothel and gambling parlour – have fuelled its rumours of supernatural activity.

Whether its murdered prostitutes, or fights between budding gamblers, it does have some basis to the claims.

And these stories were confirmed by an EVP taken.

If you listen closely, you can hear a woman singing as an investigator enters a haunted room.

Check out the EVP here: https://youtu.be/iRtJLPWByFg?list=UU1VrWEFyQYIDKuWWfRjyj7A

#6 - The Eerie Mansion Basement

Now I’ve never heard of this mansion and its murderous past, and I’m kinda glad I hadn’t.

Rumour has it that this was once home to Bill Ely.

And it was here that he killed countless women.

But it was when the American Ghost Hunters took an EVP, they heard some paranormal activity more chilling than the stories that haunt this home.

The investigator’s recorded what sounded like the whimpers of a small girl.

And when they got close to what they believed what the source of the sounds?

A man in a gruff voice told them to ‘Leave that girl alone’.

Yikes.

Want to get seriously spooked? Check out the recording: https://youtu.be/JqQ6dx_w4qs

#7 - The Queen Mary (the boat, not the person)

The Queen Mary is deemed one of the most haunted ships in the world.

And it was all quite a recent discovery.

Only in 2008 did Time magazine claim it was once of the most haunted places, but many other people have made similar claims.

For example, suite room B-340 is one such spot which is considered ‘notoriously haunted’, and a stateroom is haunted by a murder victim.

But the location we are most concerned with here is the first class area.

And an EVP taken here recorded a woman calling for help in an area frequented by many ghost women and children.

Listen to that EVP here: https://youtu.be/re5-OGabpHk

So, we’ve heard what the ghosts have to say.

And now it’s over to you.

Do you think madphantom actually captured evidence of the paranormal?

What about the other audio recordings here?

Let me know by leaving me a comment!

Oh, and when you get out from under your quilt, make sure you hit ‘follow’ so you can always be updated with more stuff to traumatise you.

[thepastelyakuza]

You ever play a game so often you start dreaming about it? Cause last night i had a dream that i was back in high school and takeya kuroda and hidenari ugaki were in my japanese class teaching us about game development and voice acting my god it was the most surreal experience ever

Most definitely. Back when I used to play rdr2 undead nightmare, I looked at my bed and could see a little desert plain and the character riding across it.

But only I got three yakuza lucid dreams. One with vampire Kiryu and vampire majima was fighting midair while I was on the ground yelling worldstar.

Another one when I was looking for majima and saejima in a crowded mall cause we died but brought back in a different timeline. Found Goro in the process. I clearly remember him saying ” no matter how many resets, game over, or different timelines. We will always find each other.” I woke up before we could find saejima. (T ^ T)

The last one was when I was hostess and Nishitani found me at a different table with a another group. He just forced himself into the group and wrap his arms around me. Wanted to gamble with the group while i watch. Pulling me close so I can comfortable. He seems sweet all of a sudden and less chaotic. I thought maybe he was in a bad mood or sad I guess and just need some comfort. (Thought about writing a short fic about)

[brooklynislandgirl]

{I probably shouldn't and of course you may ignore the fuck out of me, but...BUT randomize me lady} Make Me Feel

Make Me Feel || Accepting

3. My muse is forcefully taken from yours{ @nolegacies for honourable mention}

Dreams in the Witch House

The cream for her coffee is curdled.Drops into the cup in sullen little plops that instinctively turn her stomach and she pours the whole thing into the sink. Rinses it out, trying not to cringe, and fixes a new cup.It’s fine. It’s Monday. She’s barely out of bed and the sun hasn’t broken through the cloud cover. She doesn’t know how Anakin can sit at the little kitchen table, wrapped up in his coat and scarves when there’s already a single bead of sweat racing down her spine and she was born on a tropical island.

“The Old Ways,” she yawns and takes a sip of her cup, “are dying, Anakin. An’ wheddah or no ya wan be…ya…ya conscripted into a war t’ save it. Ya choices, ones ya gonna have t’ make…dey gonna rest squarely in ya hands. No can tell ya f’ do, jus’ here as a…guide. A…mentor.”She glances down at the mangled one that sits cradled close to the warmth of his cup. There’s something nagging about the fact that he’s drinking chicory coffee. Something about it sparks a shiver up her spine and she can’t quite put a finger on it.

She doesn’t even remember buying any, but there it is, the smell distinct. Her gaze slides away from him for a moment, maybe two and surreptitiously glances around the kitchen. Nothing else seems odd, or out of place. The air is still, though there’s an underlying hum of electricity to it, the calm before the storm. She doesn’t like it, and starts to prowl behind him.

A knife, long and wicked and slightly curved in the blade, comes into her hand from parts unknown, there’s no way she should have been able to hide it in the next to nothing she’s wearing. Her other hand rests on the back of his neck, slides down to his shoulder because…that feels a little off too. He’s in no danger from her, something he needs to understand, and all of this…the conversation without preamble, the weapon in hand, it’s all part of the greater mystery and yet there’s an undefined urgency.

The explanation is not long in coming, happens before he even gets a chance to use that Southern Boy charm on her.The light in the kitchen dims. A shadow falls on both of them from behind. Almost in slow motion, she turns, still protectively hanging onto the young man at the table.“You.”The surprise in her voice holds an edge when the single-word hisses out. She gets no reply. An arm, nearly as thick as Anakin is wide, snakes around her throat. The dagger clatters to the ground as she’s yanked back from him, off her feet. Dragged up by several inches.By the time Anakin turns around, her feet dangle uselessly, her wide eyes show a remarkable spark of fear in their depths as her fingers glance off flesh, leaving bloody rents in the wake of her nails. Exposing a hint of metal and wiring that is impossible for a human being to possess, unlike his own haphazardly attended injury of pins and wire. Tattoos or something of the sort cover a lot of the skin she’s clawing at.The man holding her is incredibly tall, taller than Anakin by a bit, and nearly twice his breadth. Face like hewn granite, close-cropped blonde hair. Mirror-shade sunglasses cover his eyes but can’t hide the minute and occasional flash of red.She gets one breath.“RUN!”The sickening crunch that follows….was her neck.~*~

She knows the clothes are stiff and bother him. She can see out of the corner of her eyes that he’s picking at seams, fidgeting in them, avoiding eye-contact with most of the patrons here. He stands by her side, maybe a little behind, his damaged hand either in his pocket, or carefully concealed at the small of her back between the lace barrier her dress makes between her skin and his, and the chiffon scarf that glides down the back of the dress from her shoulders, a Vera Wang signature. She doesn’t want to be here any more than he does, but the future of her clinic rests not only on her financial contributions but also that of the elite Society of the city, and their generous natures. So she makes nice. Makes small talk. She introduces Anakin as a friend and every so often one can catch the pursed lips or raised eyebrows at just what they take that to mean. He’s clearly younger than she is, and as a single woman…

“Le’em talk stink. Mos’ of dem don’ wanna be wid deir wives or husband anyway, an’ I can tell ya dat dat blonde in da blue dress? No’ da real Missus Senator Chevalier.”She smiles at him brighter than the chandeliers, and occasionally presses a champagne cocktail into his empty hand. She much prefers sazeracs or straight up vodka and cranberry juice. The rented out riverboat is full of people, too close, too loud, too everything. They are pressed in on all sides, and after a while the thrill of gambling loses its appeal.

It’s his turn to throw, and she watches him look at the dice in his hand. There’s something decidedly un-Beth-like the way she blows over them for ‘luck’, and she looks up at him with a feline gaze.They never find out if Anakin wins or loses.

The doors of the salon break come splintering inward with a deafening roar, and five armoured paramilitaries carrying standard issue weapons step in. 

Implanted HUDs in their eyes, inserted in the growth tank at the same time their entire circulatory system was replaced with advanced ‘wet’ nano-machinery glint in the confusion. Men in Black. Tactical clones. A man steps out in front of them, weapon raised, wearing an armoured vest over a black business suit. For a moment there’s shocked silence as the Union agents and certain patrons glare at each other. Everyone stops, slack-jawed and frozen, before the screaming starts.All hell breaks loose.Beth doesn’t explain to him when the fangs and claws come out. Or the shooting starts. Certain members of security ~she knows they’re leeches, but you sometimes make deals with the devils you know~ use illegal arms, and she drags Anakin down behind the craps table for cover. But the technocrats are faster by milliseconds and a round goes right through her shoulder.

“Fuck!” The first actual swear word he’s ever heard come out of her mouth.Primium flechettes miraculously miss panicking businessmen, government officials, trophy wives and husbands by millimetres even as they seek to use the crowd as cover. Others, like Beth, are not so lucky, being targeted by precisely engineered Technocratic hardware, and trigger-happy undead monsters. She lifts her hand up to her shoulder, bright red blood pouring out of the wound and ruining the delicate dress, and she smears her fingers with it, warm and coagulating. Her hand comes onto the wood of the table where she draws some kind of arcane sigil that seems to pry at the edges of his sanity, and mutters words in her native tongue.Soft features edged with excruciating pain turn to him as Beth grabs him by the shoulders. Shakes him not kindly, not gently. “WAKE UP!”

But it’s a little too late when she explodes in a mist of red, chunks of bone and brain tissue and other viscera showering his face.The man with the granite-jaw and close cropped hair smiles at him from across the room and chambers another round.

~*~

The cream for her coffee is curdled.Drops into the cup in sullen little plops that instinctively turn her stomach and she pours the whole thing into the sink. Rinses it out, trying not to cringe, and fixes a new cup.It’s fine. It’s Monday.

She’s barely out of bed and the sun hasn’t broken through the cloud cover. She doesn’t know how Anakin can sit at the little kitchen table, wrapped up in his coat and scarves when there’s already a single bead of sweat racing down her spine and she was born on a tropical island.

“Anakin? You…you okay? Look like some kine cat drag in an’ hork up all over da carpet. Mebbe sleep bad?”

Before he can quite answer her if he was inclined, there’s a tap at the kitchen door, a shadow falling on the small curtained window in it. Her brows knit leaving little worry lines in her forehead. Clearly she isn’t expecting company, or patients, today. Right now.Barefoot, she pads toward the door, and opens it.The man in the doorway easily clears over six and a half feet. Almost half that wide judging by the way the black suit crosses his shoulder. Mirrored sunglasses sit on the bridge of a straight nose surrounded by sharp cheeks and a jaw like stone and below close-cropped blonde hair. Piercing blue eyes look right Anakin for too long a moment before everything softens.She makes a sharp sound, the bastard child of a gasp and a shriek and she bodily rushes at him.No…No. No knives, no claws that she can’t possibly have. No bullet wounds. Her arms wrap around the man’s neck and his around her waist. Anakin is treated to a vision of her tiny body lifted almost a foot off the ground in all of this, the hem of her nightgown flirting with the backs of her thighs, and the hideous shark bite that she takes great pains to hide exposed to his view.

“You!”

The man finally says something, a painfully proper British accent on his lips.“Hey, Izzy. How’s my favourite sister?”