#t: trap phantasm

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 2

Tomorrow Is Mine from Bayonetta 2

vs.

Trap Phantasm from Mega Man ZX Advent

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Tomorrow Is Mine:

This song makes me feel very sexy ;)

[dgrailwar]

Round 3, Day 3 - Team Pretender

"And so, it ends. I don't feel much of a change... just a little tired. I guess hanging back and providing support didn't count as 'MVP' behavior. I wonder who was watching to make that choice...?"

Due to landing in 3rd-5th place, Pretender is afflicted with a -2% demerit next round!

Servant Skills:

Evening Shroud (EX Rank) - In the cover of night, even the most unconfident warriors can at least feign greatness. When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +3% boost.

Morning Lark (EX Rank) - As morning comes, as does a boost in morale. Demerits against Oberon are reduced in effectiveness by 3%, and he gains a +3% boost in one-on-one battles.

T■■■ N■■■ D■■■■■■■■■■ (???) - One condition met (Survive 3 rounds). Other conditions not met.

NOBLE PHANTASM: Lai Rhyme Goodfellow (E Rank)

A strange Noble Phantasm. Enemies caught in it suffer from a -20% demerit during that round. However, if Oberon is victorious then in the next round they are unable to act, trapped in a dream- they are also rendered invincible, unable to be targeted or harmed.

-

Class-Trait:

PRETENDER-CLASS Servants possess an inherent trickster nature. If they fall in last place during a Free-for-All, if there is a gap of 3% within their final score and that of the Servant in 2nd place, they can evade taking a wound. Additionally, if they're victorious against other Servants, other teams cannot attempt to study the Pretender in order to gain a percentage bonus against them.

[tgrailwar-zero]

We could try and condense them into a single servant. Shove enough spiritual cores and shadow servants into a mass strong enough to contain them. Though that’s just as likely to lead to internal instabilities, and Kuku herself said the cores are fragile so we may not get the chance…

Okay crazy idea: we feed the servants we defeat to Minotauros. It’s part of his legend, to consume those trapped, so it might strengthen his core enough we can grab it. It’s a very messed up harvesting method, but it may let us recoup something. However, I can equally see us trying to save Mordred due to our time in the Preliminary war, and a king slayer is just what we need if we wish to go after Carolus or Tamamo.

Then again, harvesting their core and T-Summoning Musashi with it again, might get us some of that Origin War power, but a lot of us seem resistant to T-Summonings and I’m not so sure I’d go along with that idea myself, I just don’t want us to over extend ourselves, that’s how Chuck died./hj

Anyways, I have no idea how we’d do it but if we get the chance I’d love to summon Mori. He’d be absolutely awful with us and this situation but I love his attitude and his earnestness will definitely lead to rash decisions and murder. He’s objectively the least stable option here for our situation but I like him.

Maybe if we convince Frankenstein to use her noble phantasm (no idea how we’d do this in lore but I’m fairly certain Fran was an option at some point so we prob know her skill set from one of the simulated preliminary grail wars), we could Sieg (read:make/revive) ourselves a body using Blasted Tree to generate one from the energies, code, and old mana still in this place, but I’m pretty sure that has only a low chance of a new Frankenstein being created and we’d need to have current Fran die for it, which is definitely not recommended cause it’s not worth it

(Going to make a helpful note that Fran met you less than 24 hours ago in-game and so asking her to kill herself for your sake will most likely not work.)

[brigidfromthecelts]

Not a repost, but also not a new fic! Just wanted to share a little sneak peek of one of my favourite self indulgent piece. Tags and Summary below:

Not going to post the whole fic here because it's almost 11k words. Here's the excerpt:

The restaurant is full. It is a New Year’s Eve party and spirits are high. Dinner and dessert have been served so the kitchen staff are enjoying a brief respite from all the earlier commotion. The champagne glasses are prepared and so are the expensive bottles of Moët & Chandon. The guests are mingling happily inside the restaurant and on the balcony overviewing the dark sea, where the chatter drowns the soothing sounds of the waves.  

Sanji exits through the staff’s door, throwing his chef jacket over a chair before leaving. Strands of blond hair cling to his forehead where the sweat from all the earlier intensity during dinner rush formed, and he wipes his cool hand against it, letting out a deep sigh of contentment. 

Lighting a cigarette with a used up golden lighter, he inhales the crisp night air and feels the tanginess of the ocean fill his overworked nostrils. He’s exhausted. The good kind of exhausted where he knows he gave it his all on the kitchen floor and every dish that left his station was magazine perfect. 

He had missed this.

The freedom of cooking and letting his senses be in control. Of shutting down half of his brain along with all the worries and troubles that inhabit it and just letting his hands do all the work. He’s glad that Zeff asked him to help tonight or he would be stuck in that cold, grim, lifeless building with his family and all the puppets they control but subtly call associates, pretending to be enjoying the party and hoping for the night to end fast. 

He closes his eyes for a minute, letting the sound of the waves envelop him and quiet down the murmur and rustle of the ongoing party. Yet he doesn’t have to open them to realise that He has arrived.

The acrid smell attacks him like a wave splashing against his face, travelling up his nostrils and making him cough, the smoke of his cigarette mingling with the usual shadows that accompany Him. Sanji takes a minute to regain composure, like he usually does, because the acridity comes accompanied with a hint of putrid putrefaction and that makes his eyes sting and his stomach roil. 

When Sanji brings the cigarette back into his mouth, just to try and disguise the smell that is now surrounding him, an eerie chilling laugh resounds in his head and he sighs. Sanji is used to His visits, they have been a constant for years, and they never bring him any good news.

“What is it, this time?” Sanji asks, tiredly. 

“Is that any way to speak to your Master?” His voice never ceases to amaze Sanji. Nothing ever comes out from the speaker’s mouth and yet he hears everything loud and clear in his mind. Ghostly voices echoing and mixing together like a phantasmal cacophony with no fixed timbre or pitch. It’s disorienting, mind numbing and always blood-curling, prompting Sanji to grip the railing of the balcony so he can ground himself on something tangible as he hisses through his teeth. 

“Fine. What do you need this time, Master?”

He is trapped. He has been for years.

Sometimes he weighs if he did the right thing. After all, he still associates with his family. He wasn’t completely detached from the Vinsmokes like he had intended. He was just swept aside and ignored and almost forgotten. Unimportant enough to be disregarded, but still a Vinsmoke by name and, therefore, forever shackled to a murderous dynasty..

Trapped in an eternity of servitude under two different Masters, and he can't tell which one is worse: Vinsmoke Judge, or Him.

“This time I’m here for you, my little Imp.”

So soon? Sanji’s eyebrows raise as he carefully takes another drag of his almost spent cigarette. If he has learnt anything about dealing with Him, it is that he needs to be careful about what he says and how he acts. Sanji is under contract. A very fickle, unfair contract. He needs to be cautious. 

So he remains silent. Maybe that is the best course of action, after all. 

“Two things, little one.” The word two echoes inside his head as if making sure Sanji fixes his attention on it. “Come the new year, your father will no longer require your services in his Company. You will finally have your wish granted.”

Sanji couldn’t stop the scornful scoff that left his lips. After all these years? He must be deceiving him once more. It cannot be true. But the creature ignores him and continues. 

“The second one. Remember when you talked about love?” He seems to scorn the word, like it burns as it leaves Him and reaches Sanji. He drags it’s tone unpleasantly, the chorus in Sanji’s head hitting high pitches of disharmony and making him flinch in discomfort. 

Sanji nods. The trick is speaking as little as possible. Blank out his thoughts, because He can also tap into them, and act as unbothered as possible. 

“Well, good news, little Imp. She is here.”

And, with a turn he vanishes into thin air, leaving a hint of sulphuric smell behind and a dazed Sanji, still gripping the railing while the cigarette burns through the filter. 

So his time hasn’t come yet? For a minute there, he was worried.

-*-

[chimaeraheart]

okay so a few new hcs that i thought of while getting replacement food bECAUSE MINE FELL ON THE FLOOR /sob

it's mostly domestic + based on aria's storyline so 100% no one has to follow it but it's cUTE AND SAD-

aria and lancer lived in a two bedroom apartment together. split the rent 50/50, despite aria being fully capable of handling rent and utilities on her own.

very cozy, very homey. lived in. slightly messy, but that's because aria's depression makes it hard for her to find the energy to clean sometimes. thankfully, it's mostly just books, pens and notebooks.

the couch 100% is where aria napped when they lived there, waiting for lancer to come home.

a majority of the time they shared a room. aria thought lancer gave the best cuddles and felt safer with him next to her.

whenever training happened, it was usually in the backyard of aria's mom's house since it's spacious and gives a lot of room for sparring and learning how to fight along with being good for running laps.

after lancer's "disappearance", aria couldn't stay in the apartment, broke her lease and moved back in with her mom.

we all know aria stole lancer's shirts sometimes just to sleep in because they were cozy and smelled like him, which was a comfort to her when he wasn't there.

aria's go-to outfit after lancer "disappeared" was a cardigan, a plain t-shirt and jeans with sneakers. she could barely muster the energy to dress herself up properly because her depression was at an all time high after she woke up without him there by her side.

literally she misses him so much. he was her rock, her companion and he's suddenly gone?? yeah that wrecked her for a good few months.

and then when she's summoned to chaldea as a 5-star lancer class servant (because she was supposed to be a 5-star ruler class servant, but it glitched and she was summoned as lancer instead)

her master is immediately informed she's a demi-servant, sworn to secrecy of what heroic spirit she's the demi-servant of.

comes equipped with a modify-able saint graph. her class can be changed by herself or her master. she loses the capability of modifying her saint graph if she modifies it to berserker due to the madness enhancement. if it gets changed to ruler, something happens that shouldn't, thus it's an "emergency only" class option.

avoids any and all cu variants. see this headcanon if you want to know which cu variant would remember her.

can transform into the heroic spirit she's a demi-servant of, but only for a time limit of 30 minutes pre-london. post-london, she's learned how to extend her time limit. it's seemingly "unlimited", but lasts for only a month. she can release this transformation at will by either thinking or saying "revert". mostly just thinks it.

combines bajiquan, jeet kune do and karate with the skills she was taught by her cu. force to be reckoned with. it's why her strength is almost EX rank-

if killed and re-summoned, acts as if it's just another day because she just wakes up at home if it happens. she's literally being summoned while sleeping. it's silly.

depending on her class is what weapon she uses. lancer and berserker both use gae bolg, but she will always use the anti-army version of gae bolg as lancer. berserker's noble phantasm works differently with her, as she can use her martial arts skills to make it more deadly. caster uses a staff, but instead of using either noble phantasm, she has her own called 'the seven steps of carpetbombing'-- in which she basically just continually assaults her opponent with rune magic. ruler variant uses the pseudo "gates of skye" that caster uses against archer in the fgo first order movie to trap her opponent before combining runes with gae bolg and basically containing a massive explosion that guarantees the death of anyone trapped inside her little trap. it's literally called "death by trap". she's not creative with names. someone else name her noble phantasms please.

unless she's specifically with ritsuka/any oc master that takes the place of ritsuka, she's never on the front lines and assists as backup. this means no one really gets to see her use her skills.

she can be commanded to use a command seal to transform, but you don't want to do that. she will get angry.

if anything aria is silly.

[vawsculturecorner]

My Musical 2023: Musings by a girl who can't stop getting high and tweeting.

Part 3: All-Stars Anyway, here are the best albums that released this year. Only distinction I'll make is the first three are my three fav albums of the year.

We Buy Diabetic Test Strips - Armand Hammer

As soon as I heard Trauma Mic, I knew we were in for something special. WBDTS is hazy, obtuse, encrypted and free-cognition in its omnipresent phantasm sonics. It thrives in its inability to be pinned down and if there is one takeaway that I have from this album, it's that I probably only half caught the message anyway. The best Armand Hammer tracks in their discography land on this album, with an all-star list of collaborators on both production and vocals (including a sizable contribution from JPEGMAFIA which tickles my fancy). Trauma Mic lives up to its name with a beat that sounds like a violent dissociative head trauma (courtesy of DJ Haram), and When It Doesn’t Start with a Kiss perfectly exemplifies the dichotomy and chemistry between woods and E L U C I D and what makes them the most unique and mesmerising force in rap's left lane. All that considered, I can say without hesitation that this is my favourite Armand Hammer album. Also, go read the zine Caltrops-press wrote up for this album. I know this is a bit on an impenetrable album and Caltrops' writing makes it much easier to untangle and is a fantastic framing device for the album.

Maps (Directors Cut) - billy woods x Kenny Segal

Seems like not that long ago that woods was this low-key legend that swung through on whispers of those in the know. Somewhat poetically, this has been the biggest mainstream breakthrough woods has seen since the last time he linked with beat wizard Kenny Segal for 2019’s "Hiding Places". It's understandable - woods is the rare example of an artist who seems to only improve with each project. I want to specify that I'm talking about the Director’s Cut version of Maps, unique to a limited Vinyl release with a couple of extra tracks and adjustments. Whilst the album you hear on streaming is still handily one of the best rap albums of the year, the Director's Cut is on the podium for my favourite billy woods albums, and some days it takes the gold medal. Whilst tracks like the soaring and cooing Facetime and the raw-metal clang banger Babylon by Bus are fantastic on both versions, Bad Dreams are More than Dreams (initially a short interlude-style track) blossoms into one of the most hauntingly beautiful songs woods has put out period, revelling in the indeterminate, soaring high into the night like trickles of smoke. Beat-wizard Kenny Segal continues to polish his pedigree with an exemplary sonic display, as the beats are still stylistically familiar of the duos previous work whilst feeling more fleshed out and detailed. Where Hiding Places felt insular and localized, Maps feels broad and expansive. True to its name, every nook and cranny of the tracklist is peppered with detailing and ornate lyrical carvings. woods continues to prove that, in my humble and incredibly loud opinion, he is the greatest rapper working right now and is on a level damn near untouchable. 

I’m so Tired of being Staunchly (Deluxe) - Sidney Phillips

Cards on the table, this is the album I have spun the most this year and it is so far from close you’d need to break out the binoculars. Sidney is an absolute gem of an artist and this album is a testament to her knack for catchy hooks and her ability to weave within her music a strong cultural identity. This sounds like music for trans adlays with blood-stained entays and 10 unopened telegram notifications, all rapped/sung with a juvenile earnestness that is as charming as it is heart-warming. Don't get it twisted though - Sidney can write an absolute tune with tracks like 5 A4's in My Nike's being one of many roaring trap bangers. She also shows immense chemistry with fellow stealthyn00b artists Skratcha and lil ket on posse cuts like (Slap) Telegram where each artist hold their own and sound great doing it. A collection of the most internet-pilled subgenres all coalesce into a digital menagerie of the life and times of a queer kid making the kind of shit that best represents them. Joyful and full of life, for all its tough talk it is relentlessly endearing. 

REDBRICKGOTHIK - BRACT x BAYANG (Tha Bushranger)

For my money, this is the definitive Eora album. Bayang does not fucking play on this album with gritty depictions of Eora that exists beneath the glitz and international glamour; the byproduct of a state weaponised for economic prosperity. All this over an incredible set of thumping industrial instrumentals courtesy of BRACT that hammers home the beating furnace at the heart of cold steel Sydney city. Tracks like Homesick and Bloodyfist have this blazing fury and fight that burst through machinating instrumentals, keeping the adrenaline high and consistent throughout the project without any signs of fatigue. Bayang's relationship with BRACT’s production perfectly encapsulates what I love about the album. The walls are harsh and abrasive, industrial and oppressive as you navigate through the steelwork. But as gritty as bayangs rapping is, there is a real heart, passion and love that you hear in every word. "We hate Sydney, but we love Sydney", revelling in its shortcomings and the relationships and triumphs we have built upon it. The closer Burn City Linkup is exactly what the title suggests -s a fiery conclusion for Sydney's underground trailblazers. If I had to pick one album to show someone an identifiable Sydney album - it would be this.

Javelin - Sufjan Stevens

This is the album that sold me on Sufjan Stevens. Javelin (To Have and to Hold) and So You Are Tired are two of my favourite singer-songwriter songs of all time, and I do not say that lightly. The subtle blossoming of the instruments over a hauntingly beautiful voice reminds me of my love for Ghosteen by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, and similarly, the album manages to pull a warm and hopeful wish out of enduring pain and tragedy. Sufjan's way with words is as captivating as it is soul-destroying, the music singing from a space beyond songwriting broke from fundamental experience and pure emotion. Sufjan's voice tinges with exasperation and wear marked with battles fought internally and just as he sounds prone to falter, he’s caught with instrumentals that could manifest as a garden of fairies and natural chimes blossoming. This album is immense in its beauty and heartbreak, and It will be returned to often both in times of grief and love.

Deluxe - Breakfast Road

It is non-stop bops from the best (and final that's it these guys are the last ones) boyband. Infectious since day one this concept album about a post-breakup stage hit me at a really poignant moment in my life that did help me break into the album. But whilst I came for the feels and swells of emotion, I stayed for the insanely catchy melodies and stellar songwriting. I've never really been a traditional boyband stan (though I appreciate the intent) but breakfast road makes me retroactively appreciate the concept so much more. This is another case of an album with technical elements so fucking clean and tight that elevates what is already super catchy and feel-good poptimism. These are the types of songs that you wanna sing with your friends on a night out. This album has HOOKS FOR FUCKING DAYS and is virally uplifting in a way that you can share with your friends. "Deluxe" is the type of music that is better with friends (sorry to my fellow internet obsessives) and hums with this wholesome affection and cutesyness that is never overly gratuitous and always energetic and feel-good. A perfect example of an album that just aims precisely and hits a bullseye.

Desire, I Want to Turn into You - Caroline Polachek

Caroline Polachek is the queen of art-pop and has perfected constructed songs with angelic beauty. It is a sonic isle existing high above the cloud, backdropped in an orange and purple haze on a solitary plane. This album is luscious and vibrant, smothering you in its warmth and beauty as you swim around the ocean that protects her island of music. The experience of this album exists in pure detachment from the real world, like a little slice of her personal heaven that she invited you into. Her best songs to date are here - I Believe is a loving tribute to SOPHIE where Caroline recontextualises the PC music stylings in a way that feels naturally hers, and Sunset is elating in its vocal harmonies and lyrics of love and endearment. A neon-orange blossoming of some of the most beautiful art pop from the past few years.

sideFX - JSV

To be incredibly brief, this ep from JSV is a stellar display of technical prowess and scarring self-criticism as survival instinct. This EP inspired me to start writing again - anything else I could say here is just superfluous. Read the 3000-word essay on it that I wrote (no seriously go read it) xx Ok, I’m gonna just put the final paragraph of that essay here so you can read it: In an environment burgeoning with some of the most promising cultural exports so-called Australia has ever seen, this project testifies that these creatives and by extension the possibilities open to them are immense, seizing the day as they take the reins into the future. Perhaps the most exciting thing about this project is that rather than a creative peak, this feels like the beginning of an incredibly impressive artist growing into the rest of his catalogue. An already high start on an upward trajectory, brimming with anticipation and potential. sideFX is the thesis statement of a wildly talented up-and-comer setting the stage and chiselling his mark in the musical landscape for the years to come.

This Is Why - Paramore

Following "After Laughter", Paramore came back with an album just as dour, choosing this time around to wear it as a badge of honour as they fight through anger and burning resentment. Dejected, exhausted, and futile the spirit is kept alive on the back of angst and fury - a perfect encapturing of 2023. The title track is a tone-setter of rebellion or resistance, an explosion of frustration sitting opposed to daily disenfranchisement. The shorter songwriting on the album is also welcome because it maximises the impact of the lyrics - you don’t realise how short the verses are until you check Genius. The album explores the violent stasis of fortifying your mental fortress of solitude against the explosion of world decay, in a way more melancholic and toiled more than outright angry. "This Is Why" is an ode to never feeling like you are doing enough, being annoyed at the imprisonment of your own making and capturing the violent volatility in an anxious social coma. I liked this album on release, but now it is easily one of my favourite albums of the past few years. 

All of This Will End - Indigo De Souza

I listened to this album an unhealthy amount at the beginning of this year. Something is intoxicating about the way this album revels in relentless angst, unflinching in its vulnerability and righteous in its despair. From the instruments to the lyrics the album feels strong in its vulnerability and emotionally fatigued in its justice. It's not really melodramatic either - the bluntness of the lyrics on Time Back feels like someone's last jolt of energy worked into a spit or a punch. You Can Be Mean to Me is such a petty song about spite and post-break-up depression it is and I love every minute, with the higher pitch riffs representing the little wins in emotional turmoil. I'm also enamoured with how De Souza speaks to such basic and high-potency emotional ills - “I'm not sure what is wrong with me but it's probably hard to be a person feeling anything” resides as a lump in my throat. Despite the fatigued emotions, the instrumentals range from gentle thumping indie-rock to some all-out bangers that make you want to throw your hands up and say fuck the world. Also, I can't tell you how but this is definitely bi-coded which you know means points for me. I really needed something like this to preach self-love and acceptance this year - it helped me to remember how to love yourself in a world most unkind.

Scaring the Hoes - Danny Brown and JPEGMAFIA

I don’t need to sell you on why a JPEGMAFIA X DANNY BROWN collaboration is excellent. The consistency of both artists paired with their sonic adjacency is telling enough and there has been no halt in heaping praise on this album - both by RYM stans and more “traditional” outlets. As they should too - both artists cut a new creative cloth for themselves and for Peggy especially, having a new sound that is progressive but still distinctly his is absolutely mind-blowing considering his previous sonic escapades. All I can really add to this is that the album earns its place in both artists' discographies by incorporating enough of what each artist excels at whilst manifesting its own distinguishable identity and style unique to the project. I don’t feel like it succeeded in scaring the hoes though - we were having way too much fucking fun to care. 

If I Could Sing - Kirin J Callinan

You haven’t heard this because it's not out yet and you were stupid and didn't get a USB from Kirin's live show. If you would, you would know that not only is this jam-packed with quirky eccentric bangers ala young drunk drivers and eternally hateful, it's also his best and most consistent album and definitive proof of why he is (in my opinion) Australia’s most talented and genre-liberating songwriters. I find a lot of appeal in experimental/innovative music in its formlessness, but there is so much polish and refinement to the whacked-out compositions here that the ears have so much to cling to. Kirin consistently catches strong forms in the musical chaos and I think this is the furthest into the abstract has gone, but he has sacrificed none of the catchiness

He Left Nothing for the Swim Back - SKECH185 and Jeff Markey

Look I know I already did the “you haven’t heard this album” bit but like did you cunts hear this because if you did you would be singing its praises to high fucking heaven. As @TreDoesnt put it “Writing about the SKECH album is just trying my hardest not to quote entire verses and be like DO YOU NOT GET HOW FUCKING INCREDIBLE THIS IS””. And it really is - I could write about the cataclysmic and apocalyptic tone of the album is set on the title track and maintains exhilarating from start to finish, or I could just play you the clip of SKECH announcing “MY SAFE SPACE HAS A GUN IN IT”. If someone asked me to name an album that was on a label people know about that people just missed, I would strap them to a chair clockwork orange style and make them listen to this entire album on a loop for 24 hours. Theyd probably agree with me Backwoodz had a home run this year and this project set the bar for and maintained that absurdly high standard. It was a great year for rap, clearly.

AND THAT'S GAME! Thank you for reading but more important than making me feel like I'm doing anything of note is streaming these artists/financially supporting them so please if there is anything that even remotely peaked your interest, go give it a listen! Catch a live show! Buy merch! The best art of our lifetimes is made every day and we don't want to be kicking ourselves in a decade that our favs never really got the chance they needed to make their magnum opus. Much love chat and Free Palestine!!!

[enahstudio]

Quaffed the Remaining Leisure

Life in a Vivid Dream

a personal narrative

----- Has it ever occur to you? To be delving too much to the world unknown? To get yourself consumed by the darkest state of your mind. Because I've been there. This is how the other side of the universe opened its doors for me when I tried to run away from my quandaries.

----- I refuse to take a sip from a bottle of extortionate champagne or any alcoholic beverage. But once I did, I was introduced to a world where everything felt more surreal than ever. It'll lure you for more until it gets addicting but not to the point where it is a result of making bad choices. Yet the pent up emotions will no longer be isolating itself inside the chambers of my heart.

----- As if I just stepped in utopia and I've never felt so euphoric every time I chug it down and feel the burning sensation down my throat Emitting out words I can't manage to say when I'm sober. Its pungent smell and bittersweet taste became a hurdle to the meticulous yet disturbing thoughts lingering in my mind. I was in a delirium of confusion and excitement.

----- People would usually let the ethanol take over their consciousness. Instead, I am reminded of the momentary things that simply bring joy. Enough to let me see stars and constellations. As if I'm wandering in a different dimension where my phantom drifted into. I let the drink do wonders in my head. Creating some sort of phantasms. I thought that this was my salvation. Everything on the outside terrifies me. Somehow, these series of hallucinations made by a single liquor is temporary escape from too much self-loathing.

----- Other than that, I never realized how tires I was dealing with anything. I always wondered what the world sees in me and how the world sees me.

----- The means of fleeing away just to find the sense of contentment and not facing the monsters muddling in my mind, screaming malicious threats to break me apart, made me realize that what I once thought was a living dream could also be a living nightmare in disguise. I was so lost I didn't even know where I was even going. Last thing I know is I'm in a state of reverie. But it was never a fantasy when I'm falling down the so-called firmaments that formed in my head and being trapped in the depths of the achromatic void.

----- The boundaries between both worlds' a blur. Unlike reality, no one's here to conjure and save me from being trapped by the web of my own creations but myself. In order to get back up to the surface, you have to let go of that excess baggage that's been keeping you from going back and learn to embrace what's destined for you. We tend to feel the likes of happiness, sadness, and anger --- and that's okay. Afterall, t's what makes us human.

----- Keep in mind that someday, you will be free.

@enahstudio 2023. All Rights Reserved.

[bleachbleachbleach]

I really loved reading this post. Thank you for sharing it! I feel like we share a similar vocabulary around notions of justice and transformative/reparative justices, and if I had to choose just one thing that is Hinamori to me, it is these ideas.

I think often about whether or not Soul Society is a good place for these ideas. I mean, as the laws are written and the practices are practiced, LOL, OBVIOUSLY NOT, Soul Society is antithetical to the premise. But I feel like at the level of individuals we meet there's this... weird potential energy where many of them are simultaneously so trapped by these ways of thinking but also reflexively/subconsciously (or knowingly but privately) positioned against them. Like, it's almost perceivable and can almost be given a name, but it can't. Quite. I feel like that's is quintessential Soul Society. (And maybe it's a key feature of what makes Soul Society a haunted house, to borrow your excellent phrase.)

I think Hinamori gets it, though, and I would not be surprised if her fluency has to do both with her experiences after Aizen/at his hands and with fruitful, generative conversations they had before it all.

Which isn't to say I think Aizen had it all right and was just misunderstood or whatever. I think he was also wrong about a good many things! It's funny, though, because I feel like post-defection Aizen manages to function as this phantasm--like you say, more concept than person--within Soul Society, while also somehow being described in terms of ad hominem critiques. Like, here's this figure we can stuff all of our society's shit into and hold away from the rest and say, yeah, Aizen, what a terrible, bad egg; this one guy was individually sadistic and megalomanic--rather than turning toward the histories that made him, and that continue to uphold Soul Society. But he also becomes spectre, in that his individual "pathologies" become that bucket for all things that Soul Society would like to define itself against, in order to restore the negative peace that is their status quo. Even as that definition is patently untrue. Aizen didn't put the Sougyoku up on that hill. He does not make the Maggot's Nest prisoners work in the noxious mines, etc. He's not even the progenitor of the softer edges of the way thought works in this place. Edmundo Norte writes,

The black/white, right/wrong, one-way or the other worldview is the most pervasive way our minds have been colonized by the state.

and I'm like lol yup, put that on a Soul Society T-shirt! (And I feel like it might be even harder for them to imagine outside of these binaries, because to be a shinigami is so existentially wed to the reification of these divisions. We as humans can think of ourselves as being locked into these things, but shinigami might actually existentially, definitionally, require them. 😱😱)

To go back to where I started with this, I think you're completely right in saying that we (general we, and Soul Society we) are working with a paucity of language/held space with which to imagine justice outside of carceral/punitive models.

(Sidebar: In TYBW I think Kyouraku brought Aizen up out of Muken for entirely instrumental reasons, but I'd DIG the AU where it was part of some attempt to imagine otherwise, or do different (Hinamori at its center), however incomplete and whatever the end results or lack thereof.)

I think for me, the part that feels most Hinamori about forgiveness is also part of what makes it so difficult to explain without a lot of additional context from the perspective of transformative justice. I don't think it's about having to forgive, per se. Where like, if you forgive, then you're offering absolution/apologia, or refusing the notion that violence has occurred and done serious, serious damage. I see forgiveness as an act of enormous courage; and willingness to be vulnerable even if that vulnerability might lead to pain; and a conscious decision to respond to violence with something other than violence. Nothing can undo violence that has already occurred. That's not the goal of forgiveness. So the question then becomes, where do we go from here? what do we do? And those really feel like Hinamori questions to me.

Kazu Haga, a nonviolence practitioner, says, "When we talk about 'holding someone accountable,' the key word should not be accountable, but holding." And he's explicitly not being naive (to go back to one of your earlier Hinamori posts re: that reading of her), or unseeing of the incredibly difficulty of doing so. Holding is hard. But it's a choice one might make, and I feel like if there is anything true about Hinamori it is that she will hold the shit out of something, no matter how sharp or how hot. I think sometimes when she does this it comes from a place of pain and desperation, because there's violence in and writ upon her that she'll probably always be continuing to work through; but most of the time, I think her holding is a principled choice.

I feel like there's a lot of big ideas here that would each need to be slowly shawarma'd into legibility, which I did not do, but I vibe with what you're expressing here and so much of this is what makes me absolutely gonzo for Hinamori. <3

do you think hinamori can forgive aizen? he manipulated and used her from the beginning. i dont see why she has to forgive.

Disclaimer: none of this is meant to be apologia, nor am I trying to speak for others. I work in medical, adjacent to law enforcement/legal, and have personally experienced intimate violence. Just trying to let you guys know where I’m coming from. Thank you <3

Also, this is technically part 2 to anon’s question. I feel like I did a better job at elaborating on Hinamori’s character here.

You know, this comes up a lot in both fandom and real-life—this talk of forgiveness and redemption, getting “over” it—and it’s not something that necessarily interests me because of how it’s typically presented. I think it’s pretty reflective of the space and language we lack to explore conversations outside this model of punitive justice and its by-products.

I like to think that for someone like Hinamori who has a solid moral code and tends to shoulder responsibility for a lot of things—her people, her position, her friends, even the work she does for the academy—she’d subscribe to models like transformative justice or restorative justice. 

I think she believes that Soul Society can one day be a better place but also acknowledge that the expression of it is imperfect and not a one-size-fits-all solution. As someone who actually puts in the work, a path forward can manifest in two ways: one for Lieutenant Hinamori and the other for Hinamori Momo.

Hinamori plays an active role in the institution. She’s on the inside of this whole thing. In the aforementioned post I said that Hinamori can choose to bury her head in the sand, rage and follow in Aizen’s footsteps, grow bitter and alienate parts of herself, or hold onto this moral vision of hers and learn to work in and outside the Seireitei for a better Soul Society. We’ve seen her reclaim her lieutenancy on her terms, so I don’t think she’ll have much trouble there. And we know she has no problem challenging authority. I think she can learn to make the system work for her and her cause. I imagine that on the outside she would start some community outreach program to improve the lives of the Rukongai denizens. 

Internally though, it’s complicated. I’m not going to get into it here but I think Hinamori and Aizen have a lot more in common than either would admit and I think a big part of their relationship was almost like a response to the roles they both had to play within the Seireitei, roles they didn’t necessarily agree with. 

While writing this I kept thinking: who would Hinamori be if she had not joined the gotei (and if Soul Society had other avenues for souls like hers)? I think she would still retain her moral compass and ambition, but what would that look like on the outside? Maybe in direct opposition to the Seireitei, participating in or even leading an upheaval? And that’s a hard pill to swallow, that if circumstances were just a little different, she could find herself on the other side. (Not in the same way though, for obvious reasons.)

I think Hinamori would agree with the following: that violence has history and crime—instead of a law broken—can be viewed as a relationship that has been damaged. A relationship between people, between communities, between systems, a relationship of trust. (I mean, isn’t that what the Soul Society arc was about? Isn’t that what Aizen preyed on?) 

I think Hinamori knows in the back of her mind that the cause of Aizen and co’s defection is rooted in the history of the underbelly of the system they uphold. I think this goes back to how they lack the language and space to acknowledge this reality and engage in meaningful and productive dialogue to the betterment of the institution, the perpetrators (because they are and have to be a part of this conversation), the victims and community. 

So, do I think Hinamori could forgive Aizen? As a lieutenant, I think she would have to come to terms and understand the greater “why” of his defection and what to do with that as second-in-command. For models like restorative and transformative justice, the victim has to be the one to initiate the conversation and it has to be mutually agreed upon. Interestingly, she was not given that choice when the Wandenreich invaded. It may sound defeatist, but I think this is something that must be continuously processed: for as long as she works for the gotei, Aizen becomes more a concept than a person.

For Hinamori Momo, someone who values her relationships and what she gets from them (not just companionship, which is very important, but knowledge, inspiration, a new perspective), I don’t think it’s as simple as to forgive or not forgive. Aizen had a great impact on her and I’m sure the knowledge she gained she still incorporates and even believes in post-defection. I don’t think it’s fair to take that away from her, nor do I think that means she’s still clinging to hope to one day pick up where they left off. It’s not denying his violence or solely championing the good times.

It’s about recognizing that in some ways she valued his mentorship and guidance. That he took up a major space in her life that cannot be taken up by another nor can she wave it away like it never happened.

But like I said, I don’t think their society has the tools to facilitate this type of conversation without alienating another. I said I see Hinamori as someone who asks herself “am I feeling this right?” and this is definitely one of those instances. 

-----------

I don’t think this answers your question, anon, but I hope you see where I’m coming from! Thank you so much for the ask. I had a lot of fun thinking through it <33

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #107: Angra Mainyu

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the original Shirouface, Angra Mainyu! This angy mango can turn into a dog, track mud all over the place, and also warp time and space to cheat at grail wars. 🎵 One of these things is not like the other! 🎵 I’d say he’s also really good at killing humans, but in D&D most humans aren’t that hard to kill. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.

Check out the mango’s build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: Yeah, I guess he is pretty great.

Race and Background

So... Angra’s kind of weird. He was human, but now he’s the sins of all mankind, so if you want the flavor build maybe a Tiefling? That being said we’re trying to turn him into a dog and we can’t wait three levels, so he’s going to be a Longtooth Shifter here. This gives him +2 Strength and +1 Dexterity, a bit of Darkvision so you don’t have to keep your tattoos lit, Keen Senses for perception proficiency, Fierce for intimidation, as well as the ability to Shift once per short rest as a bonus action. This bestial transformation lasts 1 minute, and during it you gain some temporary HP and can make a bite attack as a bonus action.

As for your background, Acolyte is a much nicer title than your real one, Ritual Sacrifice. (As long as you leave out your role in the order, Shelter of the Faithful should still work, right?) Either way, you get Religion proficiency, as well as Insight. You’re really good at sizing up your opponents, but that’s mostly because they’re always stronger than you are.

Ability Scores

We’re not doing anything fancy this time, just the standard array. You can roll if you wanna, but keep multiclassing in mind. First up, make your Intelligence as high as possible. It’s your casting modifier, and half the reason you’re so hard to kill is because you fight smart. Speaking of fighting smart, put your next scores into Constitution, then Dexterity for maximum survivability. After that I guess we can go with Strength for multiclassing and, y’know, hitting things. You might be weak, but you do have those abs going for you. After that is Wisdom to help with that insight. Finally, dump Charisma. Self-deprecation isn’t a good look king.

Class Levels

1. Barbarian 1: You don’t even wear a shirt, let alone armor, so Unarmored Defense is right up your alley. It gives you an AC based on your dexterity and constitution scores. You can also fly into a Rage for extra damage, advantage on strength rolls, and damage resistance, all at the low low cost of not casting or concentrating on spells.

One last thing for level one- you have Strength and Constitution saving throw proficiencies, as well as two barbarian skills. You’re great at hanging in there for as long as possible, so grab Athletics and Survival proficiencies.

2. Fighter 1: Now we bounce over to fighter real quick for Two-Weapon Fighting to help you wield Zarich and Tawrich properly. You also learn how to find a Second Wind as a bonus action for a bit of healing. You can’t really get a counter attack in if you’re dead after all.

3. Wizard 1: We’ll get a second level of wizard so it makes sense later in the build, but all you really need to know right now is you can cast and prepare Spells using your Intelligence, and when you take a short rest you can use your Arcane Recovery to regain a total level of spell slots equal to half your wizard level rounded up. This only works once per long rest though, don’t abuse it.

For your spells, grab the Light cantrip for your sick tats, True Strike for a spell almost as useless as you are, Infestation, Tasha’s Caustic Brew, and Charm Person for the beginnings of your grail mud, and False Life, Mage Armor, and Shield to stay on the defensive. Charm person isn’t quite Completely Rewriting Someone’s Personality; but I mean it’s a first level spell, what did you expect.

4. Fighter 2: Okay, enough multiclassing for now- back in fighter, you get an Action Surge for a surge of action. Once per short rest, you can add an extra action to your turn. Unlike the sorcerer’s quickened spell, you can use two leveled spells at once with this. Or hit people more. That’s probably a better option for you.

5. Fighter 3: At third level you become a Battle Master for some fancy skills. Your Student of War gives you proficiency with any one artisan’s tool. I’m not totally sure what the best way to make your tats would be, but it’s probably painter’s supplies. Anyway, you also get Combat Superiority, giving you three maneuvers that you can use with Superiority Dice. You start with four d8s, and you regain them on short rests.

D&D as a system doesn’t have much in the way of counterattacks, but Brace and Riposte are probably the closest you can get without dumping 14 levels into a barbarian subclass that doesn’t fit you otherwise. The former lets you make an attack when a creature enters melee range, and the latter lets you attack when you’re missed by a melee attack. In either case, you also add the superiority die to the damage. Your last maneuver is a Tactical Assessment, which lets you add the die to Investigation, History, or Insight checks. It’s kind of cheating when you know you’re worse than everyone else, but it’s still technically an assessment.

6. Barbarian 2: It’s been 6 levels and we’re still barely a dog- clearly we need to fix that too. Second level barbarians get a Reckless Attack, which gives you advantage on all weapon attacks for the turn at the cost of taking attacks at advantage too. To balance that out, your Danger Sense gives you advantage on dexterity saves. 

7. Barbarian 3: At third level you can finally become the bad boy you were always meant to be thanks to your Form of the Beast. When you rage, you gain one of three natural weapons. 

Your Fangs let you bite creatures, and once per turn you can regain your proficiency bonus in HP if you’re bloodied.

Your Claws let you make an extra attack once per turn.

Your Tail is long enough to get the reach property, and you can use your reaction to add to your AC by moving your tail between you and an attacker.

I don’t think dog tails are long enough to do that, but you’re more of a shadow werewolf monster anyway, so it’s not like you need to work with biology.

8. Barbarian 4: Eight levels in and you finally get your first Ability Score Improvement. Bump up your Strength for a more passible amount of attack power. 

9. Barbarian 5: Our last bit of barbarism for a while nets you Fast Movement for extra move speed and an Extra Attack per attack action.

10. Fighter 4: One last bounce back to fighter for another ASI. grab some extra Constitution for more health and a tougher hide. This also makes your unarmored defense as tough as your mage armor, which should free up a spell slot or two for ya. Speaking of spells though...

11. Wizard 2: Yeah, we’re finally getting back to wizard. Your innate skill at messing with timelines will make you a Chronurgist. Unfortunately, D&D doesn’t do four day time loops. What you get instead is a Chronal Shift, spending your reaction to force a creature nearby to re-roll a d20. Unlike most roll messing-with abilities, this one takes effect after you find out if it worked or not. You can do this twice per long rest. A couple of seconds is way more convenient anyway- having to redo everything would be a pain in the ass. Your Temporal Awareness also lets you add your intelligence modifier to your initiative for better ambushes.

There aren’t other first level spells we really want, so let’s grab the low-magic Alarm and Snare. Being in a time loop is super useful for trapping people.

12. Wizard 3: Third level wizards get second level spells. Alter Self will let you become a dog boy without having to rage, and Darkness makes things dark. You’ve got this “edgy silhouette” thing going for you in the early ascensions, it’d be a shame to ruin it just because it’s day out.

13. Wizard 4: Now that you’re starting to get spells worth using, grab the War Caster feat. This gives you advantage on concentration saves, as well as the ability to cast spells with full hands. You can also use cantrips for your opportunity attacks.

14. Wizard 5: One last level of wizard for now gives you third level spells. Spirit Shroud gives you an aura of grail mud, slowing down creatures near you and letting you deal extra necrotic damage with each attack. This also shuts down healing! Bonus. You can also Summon Shadowspawn for more material doggos with one of three moods. Furious dogs get advantage on frightened creatures, despairing dogs slow creatures in mud, and frightful dogs can hide in darkness as a bonus action.

15. Barbarian 6: That’s enough magic for a while, lets get back to hitting things. Your Bestial Soul gives you magical claws, fangs, and tails while raging, and you also get a bunch of movement options that don’t really mesh with your character. I guess the jumping boost might be useful- most type-moon characters can jump a story into the air.

16. Barbarian 7: Your Feral Instinct gives you advantage on initiative rolls, and you can just ignore being frightened if you go beast mode immediately. Speaking of, your Instinctive Pounce lets you move as part of your rage bonus action, giving you an extra half-speed of movement.

17. Barbarian 8: Use your last ASI for even more Intelligence. You’d probably use strength more, but you’re supposed to be weak, so that checks out.

18. Barbarian 9: Your Brutal Criticals give you an extra die of damage on critical hits, but you use shortswords, so it’s not going to help much. Again, pretty on point for you.

19. Barbarian 10: Tenth level beasts have an Infectious Fury, letting you dab a little bit of that grail mud into your rage weapon attacks. When you hit a creature, they need to make a wisdom save (DC 8+your constitution modifier + your proficiency bonus) or they take one of two effects. Either they’re forced to attack another creature nearby, or they take extra psychic damage. You can use this a number of times per long rest equal to your proficiency bonus.

20. Wizard 6: Your capstone level nets you one last chronurgy trick- Momentary Stasis locks a creature in a time loop if they fail a constitution save, either until they take damage or the end of your next turn. While in the loop, they’re incapacitated and can’t move. You can use this a number of times per long rest equal to your intelligence modifier.

You also get a last couple of spells, which will really ramp up your mud production. Tidal Wave does exactly what you’d think it does, and after your foes are drenched in mud, hit them with Bestow Curse, another spell kind enough to tell you exactly what it does on the tin.

Pros:

You’ve got plenty of ways to deal damage when it isn’t your turn, and multiple effects to make those attacks more effective. Combine Brace with your Infectious Fury to drop two creatures at the same time before either have a chance to deal damage. Sorry I don’t have a pithy way to bold this one.

Even if you get stuck in a longer fight, you’re tough to kill, with 200 HP, rages, a shield spell, and ways to heal yourself, you can stick around for a long time even before factoring in any loops. (Oh hey, biting is another thing that your counterattacks make super effective)

Thanks to your multitude of multiclassing, you have a lot of variety. Your melee combat is solid, of course, but you can also use magical combat or utility spells, with just a touch of healing thrown in for when it’s absolutely necessary.

Cons:

The downside to that last point above is that you have a lack of focus, which is especially bad given the small number of ASI you have to work with. This means none of your stats are particularly impressive, so expect people to see through your illusions regularly.

You have a lot of reasons to keep your reactions open, and unlike the bonus action problem this isn’t something that you can reason out yourself- you never know when a party member will need you to chronal shift away a critical hit. You also have shield and your counterattacks tied to the same reaction, so in busier fights you’ll have to plan carefully.

Most of your low level spells involve Poison or Acid damage, two of the most resisted and immune-to types. They’re just not that strong, sorry. 

[isleofancients]

"... your a dream eater" they say almost surprised shaking their head "and why come here if you have all that fun back home?"

"Made a friend I didn' wanna eat, an' I didn' wan' anyone else t' eat." He shrugs. "Tried to pop somewhere else fer a alternate meal, missed and ended up here in a guy wit' nothing at all to feed on. Just a big unrad black nothingness all over th' place."

He scrunches a bit, shuddering before he continues.

"Got trapped, slowly starved, then th' guy went and yanked me into reality and fed me like a stray furby wit' somethin' he made. Still dunno how he did that but it was pretty dang impressive." REM says. "We couldn't find a way t' get me back in th' dreamworld after that, so I went back to my crib, grabbed my special brah and we took to livin' here where he'd be all safe an' protected."

"And that was 246 years ago next week." A voice says, emerging from the back of the store, a smooth, pleasing lilt to its words. "I always love celebrating the anniversary of when I was kidnapped by a dreamland hottie."

"Big D, my brah!" REM wisps from the counter and around the Lust like a cloud, nuzzling up against its cropped gray sweater with a pleased rumble. "We got ourselves a customer!"

"Yeah." Deros chuckles, patting his phantasmal head and giving you an apologetic smile. "I can see that."

[kisskissbanggang]

Phantasm

[20Min. Read, 5K Words -- Mystery Members 👀 x Female Reader -- College! AU -- Smut/NSFW -- Halloween, Frat Parties, Elaborate Schemes, Hook-ups, Masks, Making Out, Fellatio, Cunnilingus, Threesomes]

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Parties were never really appealing to you growing up, let alone Halloween parties, and especially not frat parties. But, alas, here you were at both. Honestly, you were only here at the request of your friend Ten, whose roommate apparently backed out on him at the last second. He hadn't told you anything except to wear a supplied costume. You'd originally met a couple semesters ago when you first started Theatrical Foundations and were no stranger to Ten's appropriately obnoxious antics by now. In fact, you almost looked forward to seeing what Ten would give you later that fall day in the student cafe, but in retrospect you should've predicted something like the hilariously cheap and hideous devil mask, complete with red cape. Was Ten playing a weird trick on you? The only other instructions, cryptically, were to wear a black t-shirt and jeans.

It didn't make sense until that night when you turned the corner on the frat lane to see the house, absolutely flooded with devils, practically identical except for shoes. You rolled your eyes and pulled the mask down, reeling from the sour rubber scent now trapped in the hood with you as you elbowed your way into the stuffed house. Making your way towards the backyard, you occasionally peered down, trying to recognize any familiar shoes that may be Ten's when a hand clapped down on your shoulder. You couldn't hold back your short yelp, drawing condescending giggles from a few devils around you as you whipped around, confronting Ten as he pulled up his mask.

"You made it!" He yelled over the music, pointing at your shoes to clarify how he found you.

"Yeah, but I'm already regretting it," you laughed as you pulled up your mask, "I can only imagine what kind of terrible after-party this can cause."

"Oh, this?" Ten asked, surprised as he grabbed a beer from seemingly nowhere and put it in your hands, "This is the after-party. We just came off a bar crawl in these get-ups. It was amazing."

"Wait, you only invited me to the after-party?" You wondered aloud, your pride admittedly bruised as you popped open your drink.

"Well, yeah, I know you don't like bar crawls."

"I don't like parties, either, you jerk." Your delivery was dry, but Ten knew you were joking, giving you a knowing sneer as he tugged your mask down.

"Come on, grumpy. I dragged you out tonight to play wingman."

Of course. Of course he did. Why else would Ten dare tear you away from the safety of your dorm? You sighed deep as Ten pushed his mask down and pulled you along to the backyard, a group of devils tittering as they played cornhole next to a bonfire. A devil offered you a beanbag to play along and you politely declined, not seeing the errant beanbag heading right for your forehead with your limited vision. You jumped, dropping your beer on the lawn in surprise. A tall devil ran to your rescue, helping steady you with a kind hand on your shoulder.

"Whoa, party foul!" The devil laughed, pulling up his mask to speak more clearly. You quickly lifted your mask as well.

"Jun!" You exclaimed, glad to recognize someone else, let alone someone you regularly had classes with. Xiaojun was friendly, smart, and pretty reserved; this was hardly a setting you'd expected to find him in. Then again, maybe you didn't have him figured out as much as you thought you did.

His face lit up. "Oh, hey! I didn't know you go to parties."

You shrugged exaggeratedly. "I can say the same!"

"If I had known, we could've gone to one together by now." His tone was mysterious as he magically popped a fresh beer in your hands, flirty with an edge of curiosity. Was this just general friendliness, or was he actually flirting? Somehow, the drink in your hands, the smell of the bonfire, even just wearing this dumb mask -- you felt more bold than you ever had. Maybe you could truly pursue this feeling for the first time, having never really felt like you could before. If not tonight, then when? Maybe if you stopped overthinking everything, you'd always have this much fun.

You brazenly held Xiaojun's hand as it had lingered on yours. "Do you think," you wondered, "you maybe want to hang out some time outside of class?"

He raised an excited eyebrow at you. "Why wait?" He asked. "I'm meeting some friends here, but what if I run into you again some time tonight?"

"Like maybe somewhere more private?" You smirked, gesturing back toward the house. Oh my god, your mind yelled, who are you?

"Definitely. It's a date." On top of everything, he winked before recognizing someone across the lawn. With a quick wave to them, he excused himself, looking back at you with a smile before pulling his mask back on.

You turned to try and find Ten, expectedly nowhere to be found, except for perhaps being the devil currently riding a tall, slim devil piggyback. If it was, in fact, Ten, he seemed to be having a good time with his date. For that matter, who even was his date? The ludicrously tall girl on the volleyball team he liked to talk to at the gym? The super cute kid from his art class he was always hanging out with at meal times? Knowing Ten, it could be almost anyone, but you wished him luck nonetheless. Clearly he underestimated his own charms and didn't need you here. So what were you going to do now?

You strolled into the house, mostly illuminated with string lights and disco balls by now, even attempting to follow the crowd's example and slip your mask back on when you bumped into yet another tall devil and losing yet another beer. Except, this time, in holding your arms close to better navigate the crowd, the bottle tipped back towards you and splashed all over your shirt.

"Oh, holy shit," the devil exclaimed as he pulled up his mask, "I'm so sorry!"

You pulled yours up as well. "It's fine!" You yelled over the music, "It was a good call on the black shirts."

"Thanks," he laughed, "it was my idea."

"Don't I know you?" You were sure you recognized him. Or, rather, maybe you knew of plenty of cute guys with huge eyes and the brightest, toothiest smile you'd ever seen.

"You do! I'm Hendery? I sit behind you in Classic Lit?"

You clapped your forehead. Duh. You'd seen each other nearly every day this semester. "Oh, god," you loudly lamented, "I must sound like such a jerk!"

"No, but you are getting sticky. Come on, we need to get that beer out." Hendery laughed as he took your hand, leading you through the throngs of people and up a creaky set of stairs at the back of a side hallway. The party was definitely still happening up here, but wasn't nearly as crazy or claustrophobic as downstairs. There was another hallway, with a set of bedrooms leading to a small bathroom where Hendery was now guiding you.

"Jeez," you sighed, "one bathroom for, what, four rooms?"

"Nah," Hendery shook his head as he searched under the sink for a clean washcloth, "two of the rooms up here have en suites, so this is just shared between five of us."

"Five?!"

"Yup," he grinned as he wet the washcloth and brazenly set about leaning down and cleaning you up himself, "but it's easy enough figuring out a system. Like I shower late at night before bed and my roommate just showers at the gym in the morning."

He stopped as he realized what exactly he was doing, immediately standing back up. "Oh. Oh my god," he blushed, "I'm so sorry. Again. That's super weird of me. I'm usually the designated sober friend on nights out. That's why I knew the black shirts were a good idea. I'm just used to cleaning up after people who are normally perfectly capable of taking care of themselves."

You thought about Ten, probably still galloping along with his date just fine without you. "I think I know what you mean," you laughed, "and it's fine. You're really nice, if that helps."

"Thanks," he smiled gratefully.

"And," you added enthusiastically, "I'm sure not many girls have entered this house and got to see the bathroom sober."

"That's frightfully true," Hendery laughed. You both softened, easing up as you grabbed your cheap cape and started patting your shirt dry.

"Do you understand today's homework assignment, by the way?" You asked.

"Holy shit, no! I hardly get the material, let alone the assignment. I always heard Dostoyevsky was thick, but I still wasn't prepared." Hendery giggled.

You both settled into this, finally relaxing, talking about school and eventually finding yourself sitting in the bathtub with your legs hanging over the side. Hendery sat on the floor, your masks sitting in the sink. He was incredibly sweet and charming, but now you found yourself thinking about running into Xiaojun earlier. What if you ran into him again? Would you have to decide? Would it even come to that? Maybe you would have to do some digging.

"So," you prodded, "do you always clean up every girl who spills beer on herself in your house?"

"No," Hendery smirked, "just cute ones I see in class all the time but always feel too awkward to talk to."

A blush pulled at the corners of your lips as you sat up on the edge of the tub. "Well, I'm glad if anyone got me all wet tonight it was you."

It took you five whole seconds to decipher Hendery's stunned stare before the guffaw he couldn't keep in anymore escaped and confirmed it for you.

"No!" You laughed, mortified at your Freudian slip, "That's not what I meant!"

Hendery was long lost, practically rolling on the floor, holding his gut as he laughed heartily. You sprung over, leaping off the ledge of the tub and grabbing onto the shoelaces of his red converse as he backed away from you. You grabbed a hold of his leg before playfully tackling him fully onto the cool tile. "You perv!" You jokingly complained as you playfully punched him in the arm. He feigned injury before poking you in the ribs to make you retreat, only resulting in you shrieking a laugh and falling onto him.

"Awh," he chuckled, "you're so pretty when you're trying to murder me."

"Think you'll blend in with the decorations downstairs?" You mockingly threatened as he held you up and off of him by the wrists. The two of you play-wrestled on the floor, Hendery only gaining the upper hand when he leaned up to kiss your cheek. You froze, blushing hard before you dipped down, your lips grazing his.

Still breathing hard from your roughhousing, you melted into each other, Hendery's hands in your hair as he returned your kiss on the bathroom floor. His arms drifted down to wrap around you and you couldn't help but feel so safe, so catered to as he kissed you like each one was a privilege. You sighed against him, growing a little more bold as you more specifically situated yourself on his lap, your knees on either sides of his hips now. He held onto you, not quite holding back a gasp as your tongue bravely probed against his. You felt him grow harder underneath you. Hendery was almost dazed as you subtly grinded your hips against his, almost entirely giving into your instincts as your fingers trailed down his chest and down further to peek under the hem of his t-shirt. This seemed to encourage him, his own hands traveling from your waist to gently grope your chest. Your soft whines only wound him up further, his eager fingers timidly sneaking under the waistband of your jeans. Prodded on by your gasps, he nearly let out one in return at the discovery of the heat between your legs, the inviting warmth that only encouraged him to toy with the hem of your panties as you voiced your approval.

When it seemed to stop there, you took a second to nibble his neck, cooing over his shiver and making sure you got what you wanted. "Hendery," you mewled in his ear, "please touch me."

You looked into his eyes, so blown out with arousal that you could see yourself in them, and he nodded in compliance, his fingers finally breaching the thin hemline of your panties and tentatively brushing against your pussy. His cold fingertips electrified you, his patient and curious approach something you'd never gotten to experience before. He seemed to be gaining more confidence, intently watching your reaction as his long fingers teased your clit before probing up against your dampening entrance.

"Yeah?" He asked quietly, the reverb of the bathroom tile suddenly making you feel even more exposed despite having taken none of your clothes off.

"Yeah," you nodded thoroughly, shivering subtly as he gently eased his fingers inside you, handling and pleasing you as if you were something fragile. "More," you breathed, encouraging him to be more comfortable adding pressure. He pumped into you, his other hand holding onto your hip as you writhed and moaned. It was such a distinctly new sensation, being present and active in an encounter like this, having only been familiar with more fumbling and awkward dates before. You tilted your hips, helping him find a better angle straight against the sweet spot up inside you. Your soft moans were muffled as you captured his lips once more, kissing him hard as your hips rolled into his touch.

Hendery seemed to come to his senses at the sensation of your warm fingertips heading south on his stomach, almost waking up from a dream as he sat up, reluctantly pulling away from your lips. "Mmph, this is wonderful, you're wonderful, and I never expected this from you," he grunted as he gained his breath, "but I don't want this to end yet, and I've been upstairs for so long I should check on the guys, especially if this is going to continue." He pulled back with that same dashing smile as he gently lifted you off his lap. He absently sucked his fingers clean before catching you watching him, his bright eyes shaking along with his deep blush. You nodded and gave him a reassuring grin. Maybe you were taking it a bit fast, but it was fun to just follow your gut for once. "I'll tell you what," he offered as he got up and reached for the doorknob, "you can meet me in my room. It's just outside to the right." And, with a breathless smile, he left.

You tried your hardest to be patient, to even begin to parse the story that was unfolding here, first checking your phone to see if you missed anything. To be exact, you'd missed four texts from Ten, all wondering where you were and who you were hanging out with. You texted back, assuring him that you were still in the house and hanging out with a cute guy. When he asked who it was, you gladly let him know that maybe he wouldn't have to ask if he hadn't abandoned you, thank you very much. Radio silence ensued as you sat and thought this through. Dating had never really occurred to you in school aside from a couple short flings, but maybe tonight was a good sign that it could be fun to try. Clearly, Hendery liked you and would be a fun boyfriend, unless that wasn't what he wanted? Was he just having a good time with you? What would happen at your next class together? And, inevitably, you wondered what Xiaojun would think of seeing you two together.

All this thinking, however, couldn't keep your mind off of the unfinished business Hendery saddled you with. He'd seemed so suddenly apprehensive about going further with you, but was that just cold feet? Or did he have another reason? You were officially rendered painfully curious, the dampness between your legs not helping anything. Well, you figured, he invited you to his room. Clearly, he left part of this up to you as well.

Satisfied with your decision, you got up and dusted yourself off. You recited the simple instructions to yourself as you exited the bathroom. Outside and to the right. You considered knocking on the closed door, but decided against it. With a soft click, you pushed it open. Sure enough, there was Hendery, mask cheekily back on and red shoes still untied as he reclined back on his bed in the dim double room, casually scrolling through his phone until he regarded you.

"Fancy finding you here," you teased. He instantly set the phone down as you approached the bed. If Hendery had any doubts or nerves, you were positive this newfound confidence would help you both feel more at ease, at least for tonight. He reached for his mask, stopped by your hand on his. "Leave it," you smirked as you untied your cape, "it's more fun that way." The cape fell away and onto the floor as you climbed on the bed, crawling up in between Hendery's legs as he watched. His breath noticeably thickened, his chest rising and falling in the shadows cast by the meager lamps in his room.

"Now," you began, "what was it I was wanting to do? Oh, that's right." You took a quick breath -- no turning back now. Your fingers made deft work of opening his jeans, fishing out his quickly hardening length into your hands. His quiet grunt was muffled by the mask, but it was still a clear signal to continue. "Yeah?" You asked him, leaning your lips closer to the head.

"Yeah," came the garbled reply, his mask nodding heartily.

Your tongue lead the way from the head, to the base, and back again. Hendery pet your hair back behind your ear, watching as you finally closed your lips around him. His length was warm against your tongue, rock hard as you slid him further back little by little. He gripped the sheets, unable to hold back from subtly thrusting as you worked him over. The quiet moans escaping the rubber mask made the pit of arousal in your gut pulse, filling you with wanton heat. You became more daring, dipping him ever so slightly into your throat, savoring the small gag that made him tense in surprised pleasure. How long before he came? You wondered how long you could drag this out, never wanting this night to end when the door creaked open behind you.

"Hey, fancy finding y-- what the fuck?"

You sat up, whipping around to see Hendery closing the door behind him, clutching his mask.

Your stomach fell through the floor, probably even through the foundation of the whole damn house.

Turning back around, you found whoever the hell this was taking his mask off as well. Xiaojun stared in confusion and surprise, brows furrowed as he regarded Hendery. "Dude!" He yelled, "Privacy!"

"Jun, what the hell?!" Hendery yelled back.

You stared back and forth between them, utterly confused aside from your dire embarrassment. "Yeah," you suddenly accused, unable to hold back a quiver in your voice, "what the hell are you doing in Hendery's room?"

"You mean my room?" Xiaojun gawked, "I mean, it's my room, too? Were you expecting someone else?"

"Holy shit, dude," Hendery fumed from the other side of the room, "I told you about her two weeks ago! I told you I asked Ten to bring her here!"

Xiaojun sighed angrily behind you. "Yeah, genius, and I told you about her last week, and I also told you I was going to ask Ten about her, so I guess we're both bad at listening."

"Fucking hell, Xiaojun? Her? She's the girl you would 'kill to be fuck buddies with?'"

This was insane. This party was clearly some terrible farcical play put on by God and holy shit you were going to murder Ten on the lawn of this house if you didn't die of embarrassment first.

"Like that's a crime, you romantic idiot?! Get off your high horse!"

"Okay, I'm warning you, but only because I respect you. I'm about to beat the shit out of you, so put your dick away or else that's what I'm starting with."

"Wait, hold on a goddamn second!" Both boys stopped, stunned by your sudden outburst as you sat on the edge of the bed. "First of all, I'm right here. You don't have to talk about me like I'm not. Second of all, you both went through all these dramatics just to hang out with me? Instead of, you know, just talking to me? Third, you're both wearing the same shoes?!"

"Also my idea," Hendery replied sheepishly , "the whole frat is wearing them so we can pick each other out of the crowd easier."

"So convenient," you rolled your eyes, your head settling into your hands with a sigh before you got up. "I'm sorry for the mix-up, I'll see you guys in class," you mumbled.

"Wait wait wait," Hendery pleaded, herding you back onto the bed and sitting beside you, "so this was really just a mix-up?"

"Yeah? Of course it was. This is what I get for being so forward."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Xiaojun consoled behind you, still sitting up against the wall, his cock safely stowed back in his jeans, "I think it was really cool to see from you."

"I agree," Hendery quickly added, "I was thinking you're even more fun than I'd imagined."

You stared at your hands in your lap, attempting to finally cool down enough to get your thoughts in order. "This isn't going to ruin your friendship or anything, is it?"

"Nah, no, of course not," Hendery waved off, "and, for what it's worth, I still want to go out with you."

"And I still want to be friends, if that matters," Xiaojun added behind you. This was so surreal, but you couldn't help but be touched. There really wasn't some underlying sense of something fishy going on from what you could tell.

"I'm just mortified that this happened," you continued lamenting, your head back in your hands, "I was really enjoying tonight and now this is just a whole mess and--"

You were cut short as Hendery released your head from your hands and kissed you. "Please don't be upset," he soothed, "it's fine. You really do like me?" He smiled as you nodded.

It hadn't even registered that Xiaojun had slid down the bed beside you until he reassuringly squeezed your shoulder. "Don't worry," he added sweetly, "I just wanted to be casual anyway. Hendery really likes you."

"This is so dumb," you sighed, "I want both of you, I just need to think--"

"--Maybe don't think," Hendery cut in as he kissed you again. "It's been fun, not thinking tonight."

You sat, stunned and tempted as he held your face, Xiaojun's hand comfortingly sitting on your knee. Was he really suggesting this? Were you really considering it?

Before you could think against it, you returned Hendery's kiss, your hand traveling down to Xiaojun's at the same time and giving it a squeeze. You turned back to regard Xiaojun, now faced with his equally confused and intrigued expression, only lasting a second before he leaned in and kissed you as well. Even though you saw it coming, the gesture didn't fail to surprise both you and Hendery behind you.

"Watch it dude," Hendery laughed nervously as he pushed him back, "that's my girlfriend."

Girlfriend?

"No," Xiaojun chuckled weakly, "you mean that's my fuck buddy."

Fuck buddy?

You hardly had time to process this playful development as both boys' light competitiveness grew instantly. You suddenly found yourself pulled to Xiaojun for a kiss once again, while Hendery leaned forward and caressed your neck with his lips. You moaned in surprise as both boys' hands roamed all over your body.

"More?" Hendery asked, giving a small smile as you thoroughly nodded. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your jeans and he paused for only a second to get your approval once more.

"More?" You asked Xiaojun, pleased as he groaned in agreeance against your lips. He leaned back, giving you room as you unzipped his jeans once more. It was more than a little exciting, having both boys eager to have you in this bout of not thinking about anything too deeply. Hendery's hands surprised you as he gently pulled you, laying you back on the bed and moving to pull your jeans off. He hesitated as he dropped to his knees between your legs in front of the low bed, his eyes moving from yours to Xiaojun's. "Don't think about it, remember?" You softly reminded. "Or we don't have to. That's alright, too."

"No," Hendery smiled, "you're right. It's more fun this way."

Xiaojun watched as Hendery tugged your jeans off before he unzipped his own. He released his hard-on, looking amazing in the dim light of the room as he slipped off your panties and spread your legs. Hendery observed you intently as he teased the tip against your waiting entrance, admiring the way your breath seemed to waver.

"Do it," Xiaojun quietly encouraged. With a nod, Hendery slowly thrust into you, both boys perking up at your soft moans and whines. You clutched onto Xiaojun, who had already pulled out his own erection and firmly stroked it at the sight of the two of you fucking.

"Wasn't I interrupting something when I came in here?" Hendery chuckled breathlessly.

"What," you smirked, "now you suddenly want to see more?"

"Yeah," he groaned, "I want to see you finish the job." He fucked into you for a few more hard strokes before he pulled out, grabbing your hips and rolling you onto your knees before he got up. Hendery leaned down, kissing your lips before he gently pushed your shoulders down. You grabbed the waistband of Xiaojun's jeans, leading him to lay back on the bed as you got his length into your hands.

You looked back over your shoulder at Hendery, who was agonizingly teasing his head in and out of your entrance. "Want to see how fast I can get him off?"

"Absolutely."

You nodded, a playful smile tugging at your lips in response to Xiaojun's curious stare. Hendery watched, enraptured as you firmly sucked Xiaojun's cock into your mouth, massaging the length with your tongue. Xiaojun moaned louder than he expected to, automatically rolling his hips as he gripped the bedsheets. You had already gotten him close before you were interrupted earlier, and now it was time to see how long it would take to finish him off. He groaned, whining as you pulled your lips off him and stroked his soaked length in your hand. Really, you were only becoming more frustrated as Hendery continued to tease his cock into your depths. He just barely fucked you, making you hungry for more and handle Xiaojun's cock even more desperately.

"Slow down, slow down," Xiaojun begged, already doomed from the moment you sucked him into your throat again. It felt incredible to feel so dirty, sucking Xiaojun to a quickly nearing completion while Hendery teased you mercilessly. You gagged deep on the cock in your mouth, surprising Xiaojun into throwing his head back and cumming instantly. The cum hitting the back of your tongue startled and elated you, eager to swallow every drop you were given.

"What now?" You asked breathlessly, catching yourself grinding back onto Hendery's cock as you watched Xiaojun fight to come back to earth.

"Now it's your turn." Hendery pulled you off the bed, being careful not to slip out of you before he grabbed Xiaojun by the ankle and dragged him to the edge of the mattress, ultimately guiding him to slide off entirely. Xiaojun sat up in between your spread legs, quickly getting the idea as Hendery leaned you forward. The soft folds of your pussy barely grazed his dazed lips. Slowly, the boys found a rhythm that worked, Hendery clutching onto your hips from behind as Xiaojun ate you hungrily from below. The boys savored your whimpers, the pleasure of both sensations at once bringing you closer much too quickly.

"More?" Hendery asked from behind you, his thrusts becoming a little more erratic.

"More," you agreed enthusiastically, "Harder. Give it to me harder."

Both boys gladly agreed, Hendery grabbing onto your hair as he thrust harder into you. Xiaojun gripped onto your thighs, his tongue more roughly exploring you as you felt yourself get more light-headed with your approaching orgasm.

"More," you begged, the hard thrusts into you making your voice quiver, "please make me cum."

The pace of both boys pleasuring you kept steady, never letting up as you squealed with delight for your impending orgasm. Finally, the peak came. You threw your head back, the sensation not quite like anything you'd ever experienced before. Hendery gripped onto your hips tightly, his perfect orgasm spurred on by your own. Xiaojun gladly lapped you up, his dreamy smile slick with you as you finally pulled off his mouth. Each boy received a tired and relieved kiss from you as you shimmied your panties and jeans back on.

The three of you relaxed onto the bed, but you knew what was coming. Xiaojun had an arm casually slung around your shoulders. Hendery was curled up into your side, his nose buried in your neck as he wrapped an arm over your middle. In the distance, the fallout of this entire night was coming and you would eventually have to face it. You finally responded back to Ten's multitude of texts that had appeared during your tryst.

>Wingman, huh?

>>I said I was inviting you out to play wingman. I never said you were MY wingman.

Could this really be an arrangement that worked? Maybe you would just have to keep not thinking about it.

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

Rónán (Pronounced Roe-nan) McKinney. *Main character

Voice claim: (Chris O’Dowd) https://youtu.be/LX18xuO8LJM?t=37s

Partner(s): Engaged to Odette Lupei. Parents: Cathriona Breannna ‘Bree’ McKinney and Alroy ‘Roy’ McKinney. Kids: None.     Siblings: Eonan and Raven. Age: Not specified, at least a couple thousand years. But he translates into mid 40′s. Birthday: 15th of January. Height: 190cm Body type: Slim, but with some muscle.     Eye color: Light gray with a bit of green around the iris. Classification: (Immortal) Demon. Known powers: Possession, shape shifting, the ability to kill lesser beings by simply stare into their eyes, the ability to seal other demons in hell, so they are unable to break free for a longer time period. Mind control, levitation, Intangibility (ability to pass through physical matter) Teleportation, Life-Force Generation (power to generate pure life energy and use it in combat), Hell-Fire manipulation (The power to manipulate the demonic flames of hell), Soul Mutilation (The ability to inflict a massive and irreparable amount of damage to the soul of a victim) Astral Trapping (The ability to restrain/trap astral beings.) Dark Arts (The power to utilize Dark Magic) Cloaking Shield Construction (The power to create shields and shield-like objects that hide targets.) Psychometric Telepathy (The ability to open a psychic link with anyone related to the object you are touching.) Empathic Masochism (The ability to harm or inflict pain on others by inflicting damage upon one’s own body.) Telepathy (The power to mentally receive and/or transmit information.) Illusion Awareness (The power to be aware if one’s surroundings are false.) Nether Manipulation (The power to generate, conjure, and manipulate Nether, the essence that flows through the realms of the Living and the Dead).

About: ~ Charismatic, balanced, calm, clear-headed, respectful,  genuine, romantic, kind,  highly intelligent, logical, objective, friendly, reflective, practical, contemplative, fair, loyal, honest, flexible, modest, patient, understanding, sociable, selfless, tolerant, protective, courageous, disciplined, gentle, independent, helpful, passionate, perceptive, caring, responsible, discreet, rational, devoted and organized. ~ His name means seal or 'the’ seal.   ~ Sexuality Pansexual. ~ Has red/orange hair and beard (natural ginger). ~ Has tattoos on most parts of his body. ~ Has a piercing and stretch in right ear. ~ Irish, with Scottish roots. ~ Has a bit of an Irish accent, that sometimes becomes rather thick. ~ Is a translator of dead languages. ~ Is born into a large, ancient and very powerful demon clan, named McKinney clan. ~ Is very skilled at sword fighting/fencing. ~ Tend to disappear for years with his brothers. ~ Has a pretty shady past, but here we talk way in the past. ~ Has a sort of authority over his brothers, although he always let them do whatever they want. But if he finally stands up and says something, his word will count. He’s the oldest after all. And the one to take over the McKinney clan after their father. ~ Smells like Myrrh, Wormwood or Thyme. ~ Is very heavy into Alchemy. ~ Is probably the nicest of the 3 brothers. ~ Very family-oriented. ~ Would love to settle down and have a bunch of kids. ~ Loves reading poetry. ~ Dislikes hail. ~ Is a mean cook.  ~ Very romantic. ~ Can play the harp, very well. ~ Loves his brothers, Odette, his family home, Ireland, Scotland, his family, classical music, Indie/folk music, Jazz, theater, Irish Whiskey, Irish and Scottish food, Scottish highlands, rain, thunder, snow, cooking, reading, Autumn, horses, horseback riding, nature, long baths, whiskey, curry, cinnamon, red wine, chocolate, traveling, long strolls in nature, quietness, candle light, the smell of old books, cherries and sunrise. ~ His style is casual. ~ Seems quiet at times, but that’s only because he prefers to listen rather than talk.

Ronan’s tag Ronan’s house/home Ronan’s moodboard Handwriting/ask answer pic:

One Gif to describe him:

One song to describe him: Jesse Ruben - This Is Why I Need You Personal play list: 1. Agnes Obel - The Curse (Berlin Live Session) 2. Leon Bridges - Smooth Sailin' (Live) 3. Femke - I'm Still Here 4. Gary Clark Jr. - Nextdoor Neighbor Blues | Mahogany Session 5. The Crane Wines - The Moon Will Sing 6. Etta James - A Sunday Kind Of Love 7. The Oh Hellos - Hello My Old Heart 8. Keaton Henson - You Don't Know How Lucky You Are 9. Alice Phoebe Lou - Nostalgia | Mahogany Session 10. Ben L'Oncle Soul - I’ve Got You Under My Skin 11. Iron & Wine - Sinder & Smoke 12. Iron & Wine - Call It Dreaming 13. Lisa Ekdahl - I Know You Love Me (Official Video) ft. Ibrahim Maalouf 14. Ren - Jenny's Tale 15..The Spring - Colors of Consciousness 16. Arborea - Pale Horse Phantasm 17. Raury - Devil's Whisper 18. Gregory Alan Isakov - Time Will Tell 19. Doris Day - Perhaps Perhaps Perhaps 20. WILDES - Bare Bonus: Andy Williams - Can't Take My Eyes Off You Extra: Gregory Alan Isakov - If I Go, I'm Goin

[dgrailwar]

Round 6, Day 3 - Team Pretender

Despite the loss, his smile was easy. Like always- easygoing, friendly, not belaying a hint of real emotion. You had seen it so many times, it was beginning to feel hollow. Like he was simply smiling because that's the Servant who was called, because he had to, because he didn't have a choice outside of that.

"So that's a Divine Spirit. Makes sense, of all the planet's children, they're some of the most capricious-- and the most dangerous."

"Still, I can't help but feel a bit bad for her."

"We're here until we die, after all. If she doesn't keep her head in the game, that just means she's running from the inevitable… 'I'm strong because I have friends with me', it's a fun thought… but once the stage sets, and she turns to dust, she'll be forgotten. She'll forget them, too. Like a dream, we'll all fade. Such is life. Such is our 'lives'."

Oberon has 1 wound! Two more and he'll be defeated!

Team Pretender has 2 Command Spells remaining!

Oberon's secret skill goals have shifted!

Servant Skills:

Evening Shroud (EX Rank) - In the cover of night, even the most unconfident warriors can at least feign greatness. When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +3% boost.

Morning Lark (EX Rank) - As morning comes, as does a boost in morale. Demerits against Oberon are reduced in effectiveness by 3%, and he gains a +3% boost in one-on-one battles.

A Midsummer Night's Dream (EX Rank): Rather than just reducing the effectiveness of Servant-imposed demerits, he is immune to them entirely. Additionally, the conditions for his secret skill are revealed as such:

Survive for 3 rounds. (Achieved)

Take 1 wound. (Achieved)

Win against a Servant in combat.

T■■■ N■■■ D■■■■■■■■■■ (???) - Two conditions met (Survive 3 rounds, take 1 wound). Other conditions not met (1/3 remaining).

NOBLE PHANTASM: Lai Rhyme Goodfellow (E Rank)

A strange Noble Phantasm. Enemies caught in it suffer from a -20% demerit during that round. However, if Oberon is victorious then in the next round they are unable to act, trapped in a dream- they are also rendered invincible, unable to be targeted or harmed.

-

Class-Trait:

PRETENDER-CLASS Servants possess an inherent trickster nature. If they fall in last place during a Free-for-All, if there is a gap of 3% within their final score and that of the Servant in 2nd place, they can evade taking a wound. Additionally, if they're victorious against other Servants, other teams cannot attempt to study the Pretender in order to gain a percentage bonus against them.

[aion-rsa]

Star Trek: Lower Decks Episode 6 Easter Eggs & References

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This STAR TREK: LOWER DECKS review contains spoilers.

Trying to catch all the references and Easter eggs in any given episode of Star Trek: Lower Decks is a little like trying to count all the times Spock does anything with his eyebrows in The Original Series. It’s possible, but even when you think you’ve spotted everything, the second you blink, he raises his eyebrow again.

In the sixth episode of Lower Decks, there aren’t any references to Spock raising his eyebrow, but there are plenty of eyebrow-raising Easter eggs. Here’s everything we spotted, from holodeck characters to retro-23rd century designs, and one shout-out to the greatest helmsman in Starfleet history.

Ambient Warp Drive Noises Are the Best White Noise

For years, Trekkie superfans have pointed out that the soothing, ambient noise of the Enterprise-D is a sonic genre of white noise in it of itself. Several white noise simulators exist online to help you recreate this noise, while a few fans have tried to create devoted YouTube channels to the various different “ship sounds.” The person who designed all these sounds, and recorded them (often using heavily modulated freezer sound recordings) was Jim Wolvington. From TNG through Enterprise, nearly all ‘90s sound design was overseen or created by Wolvington. In this Lower Decks scene, the gang tries to create the sounds of the Enterprise-D and Voyager. 

How the Lower Deck-ers would know what Voyager sounds like at warp is somewhat questionable, considering the ship was missing in the Delta Quadrant for most of their careers. Maybe they visited one of Barclay’s holographic reconstructions?

An Antares-type ship from TOS

The ancient Starfleet wreckage in this episode features a ship with the registry NCC-502. In the TOS episode “Charlie X,” the ship Antares was retroactively given the registry number NCC-501. This designation and starship design is also based on ships seen in The Animated Series episode “More Tribbles, More Troubles.”

Sonic showers 

Lower Decks makes its second joke about the fact that most people on Starfleet ships probably use waterless “sonic showers.” The sonic showers were first glimpsed in Star Trek: The Motion Picture, but we’ve almost never seen anyone use them. Because water can apparently be replicated, we’ll never really know why 24th Century starships still used the sonic kind. Either way, Dr. T’’ana has a point, using sound vibrations to get cheese out of fur sounds like a drag.

Boimler has something in common with Jean-Luc Picard

When Fletcher and Boimler joke about their Academy days, we learn that Nassicans tried to eat Boimler’s heart at one point. This references the TNG episode “Tapestry,” in which Nassicans stabbed Jean-Luc Picard through the heart, right after he’d graduated from Starfleet Academy.

TOS communicators 

Tendi references the classic era of TOS when she says that among the old Starfleet wreckage, she hopes to find “ the original communicators, you know the clamshell design?” When Dax traveled back in time to the 23rd Century in “Trials and Tribble-ations,” she talked about an old tricorder having “classic, 23rd Century design.” Even in Star Trek, people are fans of the design aesthetic of TOS.

Wy can’t they just beam all the wreckage?

Because there’s so much space junk to clean-up, Tendi wonders why they can’t just beam-up the debris using the cargo transporter. In TNG, we saw the cargo transporter in episodes like “Datalore,” but we rarely saw it used in a salvage operation. Rutherford tells her “that stuff’s too massive” to be beamed by the cargo transporter, which could answer a very old fan question: Why can’t starships beam other starships to other locations? Apparently, size is an issue. 

All your favorite holodeck parties

Before taking Tendi to the holodeck, Rutherford points out that the Holodeck is not just for fun, and then lists a bunch of ways people have used the Holodeck for fun. As he says, “The Holodeck is not just for hanging with..” and then Rutherford drops a litany of characters who have appeared in Trek, occasionally on the holodeck, but not always. Here’s the list of characters and which episode they appeared.

Sherlock Holmes: Data played Sherlock Holmes in the TNG  holodeck episodes “Elementary My Dear Data,” and “Ship in a Bottle.” A holographic version of Sherlock Holmes was never seen in these episodes.

Robin Hood: This seems to reference the TNG episode “Q-Pid” in which Picard is put into the guise of Robin Hood by “Q.” This was a weird alternate dimension simulation, but it wasn’t on the holodeck. 

Sigmund Freud: In the TNG episode “Phantasms,” Data took advice from a holographic version of Simgun Freud.

Cyrano De Bergerac: Cyrano De Bergerac does not appear as a holodeck character in Star Trek, however, holodeck addict Reginald Barclay was playing the role of Cyrano for one of Beverly Crusher’s theatrical productions in the episode “The Nth Degree.” In that episode, Barclay later merged his brain with the ship’s computer, which, of course, led to him becoming terrible. The larger plot of “Terminal Provocations,” at least for Fletcher, is pretty much the same.

Einstein and Stephen Hawking: Data played poker with holographic versions of Einstein, Stephen Hawking, and Isaac Newton in the TNG episode “Descent Part 1.” Stephen Hawking played himself.

Leonardo da Vinci: On Voyager, Janeway frequently hung out in a holographic reconstruction of DaVinci’s workshop. The Voyager hologram of Leonardo da Vinci was played by John Rhys-Davies.

Socrates: The Greek philosopher Socrates was also mentioned in the episode “The Nth Degree,” mostly because Cyrano claims to have met him. But, in the Voyager episode “The Darkling,” the holographic doctor created a hologram version of Socrates who played Kal-toh (or Vulcan chess) against the Vulcan T’Pau. We most recently saw a Kal-toh game set in the season finale of Star Trek: Picard. 

Delta Shift

It’s been previously established that the USS Cerritos seems to be on a four-shift duty rotation. This was an idea first introduced in “Chain of Command,” where Captain Jellico temporarily ordered the USS Enterprise on a four-shift rotation instead of three. Delta Shift is, presumably, the night shift. 

Holodeck safeties 

When Tendi and Rutherford enter the training program, the shipwide failures cause the holodeck safeties to be disabled. This concept goes back to the first season of TNG, in which the holodeck safeties were disabled in the episode “The Big Goodbye.” Arguably, even before that though, in the episode “11001001” an upgraded holodeck was used as a trap to lure Captain Picard and Commander Riker away from the bridge.

Load Bajorian Marketplace 

Tendi and Rutherford are briefly in a holodeck recreation of a Bajoran marketplace on the planet Bajor. Though it’s not clear which province or city they’re in, it’s definitely not one of the bigger cities. Despite the fact that the space station Deep Space Nine was originally in orbit of Bajor, we didn’t get down to the planet all that much.

Evasive pattern Sulu alpha 

When the Cerritos is in trouble, it’s time for some evasive maneuvers. Naturally, saying “Evasive pattern Sulu alpha,” references the flight controller (or helmsman) of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701, Hikaru Sulu.

Fletcher hooking his brain up to the computer 

If it’s not obvious by now, the plot of “Terminal Provocations” is mostly lifted from “The Nth Degree,” insofar as Fletcher hooking his brain into a computer is similar to what Barcarly did in TNG. That said, aspects of the AI monster in this episode are vaguely reminiscent of other rogue AI hybrids, including Nomad from the TOS episode “The Changeling,” and naturally, V’Ger from Star Trek: The Motion Picture.

Transfer to the Titan

Fletcher is sent to the USS Titan at the end of this episode. This means the person who “fired” him from his job is almost certainly Captain William T. Riker. In 2280, Riker has been the captain of the Titan for probably less than a year. We know Will and Deanna went to the Titan after Star Trek: Nemesis but we never actually saw what they did there. It’s also a good bet, that at this point in time, Riker is an expectant father. 

Considering that Ron Docent’s secret password in the previous Lower Decks episode was “Riker,” it feels very possible that we could be getting a Number One cameo very soon. Or, at least, we can hope!

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[scribeofmorpheus]

The Rebel Queen (i)

Chapter One: Immolation

Pairing: Poe Dameron x (OFC) Princess Calista Ordell

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | A03

Words: 6k | Warnings: More ramblings of a delusional fanfic writer…

A/N: We finally get to meet our new protagonists and have a little bit of Poe towards the end. I had a lot of issues with this first chapter. I wrote and rewrote it three times before scrapping it and starting again. I was also anxious no one would want to read something that’s 90% OC’s. If you want to read the original version lmk, I’ll add it as a deleted scene. Expanded lore linked below:

Epilogue | About Thesmora

"Always find the courage to stand, my child," a beautiful smile graced over Lenora's timeless features, her hand reaching down. "For as long as you believe you have the strength to keep going, then you will have the strength to keep going.“

Young Calista rubbed at her cheeks, wiping hot tears away as she dusted her trousers and accepted her mother's outstretched hand. The sounds of her brother’s laughter tickling at her ear.

“Remember Calista, just because you got knocked down, doesn’t mean you belong there.” Lenora helped her daughter to her feet, glancing over at the golden shores of the beach, a content look in her eyes.

 Karas the Ancient City on Thesmora…

Ash rained down from the smoke-blackened sky, a shadow cast over the white and gold flag that stood crooked in the courtyard.

Dark purple flowers trampled by lifeless bodies, the polished silver and gold armour of the Royal Guard was covered in specks of uprooted soil and soot.

An explosion in the distance heaving sand and dirt and roots out from the ground.

Princess Calista Ordell stared at her mother's funeral pyre, the flames long since dead. The smoke dancing like a sickly phantasm weighed down by gravity, trapped by the heavy air filled by a melancholy that clung to everything. Today was meant to mark the first day in a hundred days of mourning, but instead it had turned into the first day in a long number of days to be plagued by violence and turmoil.

Calista was numb to the pain. Numb to the distant sounds of explosions and boots crushing over the ancient city’s stone steps. Thesmora had lost a queen and she had lost a mother and on the eve of Lenora’s burial, the planet had lost what little hope there was for peace. Then Duchess Maligma had made a rallying cry. Traitors became patriots, brother took up arms against brother and now Thesmora was under the iron fist rule of a power-hungry tyrant.

Martial law was declared, what was once a monarchy in transition for Calista’s rule, was now a military state ripped apart by infighting and bloodshed.

All it took was one day for the galaxy to change. One day for Calista's life to fall apart. When the First Order unleashed the might of its arsenal against the Alliance, no one had been prepared for the devastation that followed. Seven planets -spinning, revolving, evolving- there one moment and gone the next, billions of lives lost succeeded by a fallout of immeasurable proportions.

Fearing for her people, the Duchess had killed her own sister after she had refused to side with the order. And even though the resistance had destroyed Star-Killer base, they had been too late to stop the panic and fear from spreading across the galaxy.

"Princess," the faint sounds of a trusted voice forced its way into the crevices of Calista’s foggy mind, shaking her from her stupor. "Princess, it isn't safe. We must get you to safety!"

Calista looked up, dazed and confused, eyes red from the salt in her tears. Her protector and long-time friend, Koa Kiddé, grabbed onto her shoulder and shook her fiercely. The wind blew her long silken hair furiously, the sunburst orange ends flickering like an open flame around her face. A look of determination turning her beautiful features stone cold. Her honey-coloured eyes drawing narrower with every wasted second.

"Now, princess!" Koa yanked her to her up.

Calista looked down at her feet planted atop the flower bed and remembered a phrase her mother would always mutter in trying times, "Find the courage to stand."

Koa held out her hand, the other armed with a viro-blade, urging Calista to take it.

Hand in hand the girls ran out of the courtyard and away from the only home they knew. Soldier's clad in black armour filing into the once lush and colourful space, covering it like ants on an anthill. Calista’s crown sinking further into the dirt as synchronised marching lifted the weak soil off the ground.

To win this war they would have to lose this battle.

 Calista’s feet began to blister, her breathing ragged and shallow.

"If we hurry we should be able to catch a shuttle heading to Yotai, from there it will be easy to find ourselves a pilot willing to smuggle us out of the Outer Rim," Koa strategized.

"We won't get far dressed like this," Calista pointed at her ceremonial robes and Koa's Royal Guard attire. "And we'll need credits."

Koa hummed in agreement.

"We have no choice," Calista sighed. "We head for the race tracks and speak with Banden Murray."

"I would rather die than watch you sully your reputation by getting into business with that thug," Koa spit in distaste.

Calista looked around the housing complexes in search of clothes or material left out to dry. She spotted a purple poncho with a hood and pulled it over her clothes, obstructing the royal seal embroidered onto her breastplate.

"That may very well come to pass sooner than you think," Calista warned. "Our allies are scarce, Mokk-Toh has vanished and there are whisper's that Maligma is in talks with the First Order. My options are limited. Murray is the only option."

Koa clicked her tongue in distaste, "the thought of being bantha fodder is more comforting, but you are right. Without resources, we'd be shooting in the dark."

"Then we're in agreement," Calista nodded before heading away from the transport station and towards the race tracks.

 The Shallow Pits…

The sound of pod-racers whooshed past, dust picking up and filling the air with the scent of grease, smog and engine fuel. The harmonising soundwaves of pods whirring in stasis trembled out through the orange and red rock depressions. The stands which were always filled with up-roaring fans were all but deserted. Posters and flyers advertising for a big race blowing about like unattended children.

Calista kept her head low as she manoeuvred through the sparse crowd of derelicts, gamblers, mercenaries and smugglers that frequented the race tracks. A few strange faces would occasionally do a double-take once they noticed her fine shoes didn't match her worn poncho, luckily Koa's frightening glare and imposing demeanour would scare any potential whistleblowers away.

"Hey, hey, hey, only Thessi with invitations are allowed beyond this point," a mercenary held up his hand, guarding the back entrance to the observation decks. He was an inch away from touching Calista's shoulder.

Koa unsheathed her sword with lightning quick reflexes, the heat from the plasma charge bathing the mercenary’s neck in a yellow glow, "Lay a hand on her and you lose it." Koa threatened.

"Stand down," Calista calmed her before looking up at the wide-eyed mercenary, sweat trailing down his neck -the viro-blade still painfully close to his artery. Koa's disciplined stance barely allowing for the long sword to sway.

Calista lifted the poncho to reveal the sigil, "I have a feeling your boss will make an exception about the invite rule."

The merc gulped and hit the wall panel with his elbow. The door opened with a hiss and a gust of air. "Go on ahead."

Koa sheathed her blade, yellow glow subsiding from the mercenary’s pale neck before following after Calista.

 "A visitor to see you, boss," one of Murray's assistants introduced Calista. "And her bodyguard." Koa walked in right after.

Banden Murray was a tall, muscly man with thick hair the colour of tar. His skin paled in comparison to all his compatriots, making him stick out like a sore thumb in this part of town, but he didn't mind that. Murray was more outsider than native, but he had declared Thesmora his home after retiring from whatever occupation he had before.

He was widely respected by the public for being the head of the mining union with connections to various peoples of power. What few beyond the senate seat knew was that he was also an information broker with a vast network of spies who had dealings with both the Resistance and the First Order. Many believed he had amassed this network after the first rebellion ended, though none knew for sure which side he had been pledged to at the time, or if the story held any merit considering no one knew his age. If the lines on his face were any indication, he was probably past his prime years.

"Ah, I never thought I'd see the day when royalty would walk into my establishment of their own volition," Murray smirked as he leaned further into his chair, a multi-coloured poncho draped over his heavily tattooed arm. The only legible tattoo was of a name scribed over his chest: Ashani.  "Please, sit."

Calista accepted his show of hospitality, Koa, however, made it a point to stand in defiance. Murray cocked his head at Koa before bringing his sights back on Calista.

"So, princess," sarcasm dripped from his tone. "How may I be of service?"

Koa's hand balled in a fist.

Calista brushed his brazen attitude aside, "I need a favour."

"Do go on," he encouraged with a wave of his hand.

"We have a contact waiting for us at Yotai who will get us out of the Outer Rim. All we need is safe transport off-world."

Murray chuckled under his breath, "Your contact wouldn't happen to be Senator Kiddé by any chance?"

Calista's eye's flickered to Koa's instinctively, her guardian, in turn, clenched her jaw with a bitter expression.

Murray had gotten his answer.

"I suspected as much," Murray snapped his fingers, ushering one of his drones with a heavily tattooed face to bring a box into the room. "He was taken captive by the Thessi Garrison a few days ago. We were able to… re-appropriate several of the personal belongings he had on him."

"Need anythin' else boss?" She asked, eyeing the two outsiders.

Banden shook his head, the rings on his fingers knocking against each other when he weaved them together, elbows propped up on the table. "I'm told he and several other outspoken supporters of yours are being transported to Illis –to the Cairn- on a shuttle tonight."

Koa's hands began to shake and Calista caught on cue, asking Murray the question that was undoubtedly plaguing her friend's mind, "Any news on his wife, the Baroness?"

"We've heard chatter underground that she fled to the safety of Naboo not too long ago," Banden replied.

Koa's shoulders relaxed slightly upon hearing the news.

"With the senator no longer at our disposal, we may have a harder time getting off-world," Calista said gravely.

Banden let out a low rumble, "Then I suppose its fate that you came to my door." He stood from his chair and walked around his desk, his tall frame leaning against the desk with folded arms. "I know a good pilot. Trustworthy. Man of his word. He can get you where you need to go, for a fee of course."

Calista sized him up, "I suppose you have conditions of your own for helping us?"

"I do indeed," Banden pulled out a lighter and burnt the ends of his pipe, filling the light deprived room with puffs of white smoke. "Wars are a tricky business. Lucrative, but tricky. I believe you'd be worth the gamble though. I can help you, be your eyes and ears on the ground. Pass information to and from. I could be your inside man, help topple this totalitarian regime your devious aunt has erected." A wicked leer pulled at his thin lips.

Calista's fingers began to drum against the chair's armrest, one of her nervous ticks.

"What's the trade?" Koa said bluntly, her voice sharp as glass.

Banden blinked as though he hadn't the slightest clue as to what she was inferring.

"Men like you, you covet one thing: power. How does helping us get you what you want?" Koa took a step forward, challenging as was her nature.

"It's simple. If you manage to overthrow this current uprising and restore balance, I want a seat on the senate… and the deeds to the prison," his steely blue eyes fell back onto the princess.

Calista's gaze snapped to his, their eyes clashing like mud and crystal. "That is no small ask."

"Neither is helping two wanted fugitives escape from the clutches of a power-mad warmonger," Banden's voice was no longer gentle, his lungs sucking in air through his lit pipe. The scent of burning sticking to everything.

"How do we know you aren't in Maligma's back pocket?" Koa asked through a narrow glance.

"I am," Banden admitted freely. "I'm in everyone’s back pockets. The resistance, the order, the cartels… everyone. I even did the odd job for the late queen now and again."

"Lies!" Koa barked, jaw muscles working hard.

"It makes sense," Calista said regrettably. "A man of your connections is an invaluable asset." She stood from the chair, determination pulling her brows together. "I cannot promise you the rights to the prison, Murray. Nor am I inclined to believe you won't just betray us once we get on a ship… but, I can assure you, that once I take my throne back, all of Thesmora will know of your role and perhaps that would be evidence enough for the senators to allow you to slink your way into a seat of power." Even though her words were low and controlled, it wasn't enough to fully flatter the mobster.

"If you succeed, we'll bring this discussion up again at your coronation." Banden held out his hand.

Calista knew she was making a deal with the devil, but she had few good choices left. She accepted Banden's hand tentatively, a new alliance forming under the roof of a desolate betting establishment.

"We'll be needing disguises," Calista informed him.

Banden whistled, ushering a skittish droid into the room. "Cory will handle any of your needs."

"And the pilot?" Calista asked.

Banden chuckled again, "He's down by the docking ramps off-loading cargo. I'll let him know you're on the way and I'll handle any remunerations he may require..." Calista motioned to leave when Banden informed her, "For now at least. There are no free favours in this world. I will come knocking if you live through this." 

"You'll get what you're owed," Calista's voice was smeared with venom, no longer playing the composed little princess.

“Trust me, I know.” Banden returned to his seat, boots resting on his desk. “Oh and princess, if you run into Felix, tell him his loan is overdue.”

The mention of Felix’s name caused Calista’s breath to hitch, the first sign of her level of distress.

 Calista changed into the bright orange mechanic overalls Cory had given her while Koa riffled through the crate with her father's belongings.

"You know," Calista pulled the cloth that separated them. "I think I'd make a good mechanic." Calista tried to smile in the hopes it would ease Koa from her worries.

Koa looked up at her, fishing out a small blaster rifle and holster and tossed it to her, "A gift from our gracious business partner.” She was dressed in tattered clothes. Tears and holes peppering the purple cloak that obscured her viro-blade's sheath behind her back. Black boots scarred by scuff marks.

Calista buckled the worn holster around her thigh and waist, "You don't approve."

It wasn't a question, Koa hadn't tried to hide her feelings about this plan from the start.

"That's why you're the diplomat and I'm the shield," Koa said flatly, her fingers running over the knot-work ridges of an eye-catching necklace.

"It's beautiful," Calista moved closer, tying up her long hair into a professional bun that hid her auburn tinted ends.

Koa held up the chain to the light, the octagonal metal charm scattering the beams of light into an artificial rainbow. "I've never seen it before. I don’t think it belonged to my father." Koa tossed it back into the crate, her hands gripping the edges until her knuckles turned pale.

"Hey," Calista placed her hand over Koa's, urging her to let go. "Maligma won't hurt him, he's too valuable as a prisoner. We'll save him. I promise."

Koa ground her teeth together, before lifting up the box to carry, "Let's focus on getting you somewhere safe."

Calista glanced at their distorted reflection on a polished surface. With their hair concealed and their normal clothes cast aside, they shared a remarkable resemblance. Inattentive eyes would easily mistake them for cousins, even perhaps sisters. Despite their similar bone structure and eye slant, Koa was the more beguiling of the two, with her enviable height and toned build.

Koa pulled an old cap off a hook and fixed it over Calista's head, the brim shielding her eyes from view, "Now you look like a crew member on a pirate ship." 

 The ship hanger housed three star-ships. One was an old Mon Calamari cruiser that looked to be a former warship, probably salvaged by Murray and his thieves after the war. The other was a beaten up rust bucket with only one working engine, parts pulled from it for salvage and left to gather on the floor like a machines graveyard. The final ship was also a relic of the past, but the colourful paint job slapped on made it look a little newer, a little shinier. Bold letters ran across its side spelling out the word Somnambulist.

As Calista and Koa got closer, they heard the odd ramblings of an unfamiliar dialect. A stout, burly man with an extended belly, greasy hair and an unkempt beard was shouting up at someone working a plasma torch. Calista guessed by the grease-stained medals pinned to the man's small jacket that he was most probably their pilot, Odhen Boro.

Murray told them Odhen used to be one of the best pilots on their side of the quadrant, a veteran in the Resistance too, but he had quit right around the time the First Order popped up.

"Don't give me excuses, one-eyed wonder, you said you'd have the tailpipe fixed hours ago!" Odhen shouted up at a small creature standing on a ladder that had been wheeled under an engine thruster, his miniature frame dressed in a brown get-up.

"Is that a Jawa?" Koa leaned close to ask.

Calista hummed in thought, "I've never seen one, but the fiery attitude and loud shouting would seem to back up that assumption."

The Jawa moved his arms frantically about, his voice small and high pitched. It would have been adorable if not for the flesh searing torch he wielded recklessly.

"Yeah, yeah, don't give me that crap. Just get the damn thing fixed," Odhen ran a hand through his beard, curly follicles falling away at the contact. He stared down at the shed hair strands and groaned in disgust. "Great… next thing I'll start going bald."

The Jawa shouted something else and this time Odhen's nostrils flared, "Yeah, well you aren’t getting’ any younger either, pip-squeak!"

"Odhen Boro I presume?" Calista startled the two hot-tempered males.

Odhen scratched at his beard as he tried to place the strange women standing before him. The Jawa sighed and threw a bolt at him, shouting again in quick, unintelligible words.

The pilot grumbled something under his breath before wiping the engine fluid from his fingers onto his less than white shirt, "My mechanic over here tells me you're our haul. The princess and her bodyguard, right?"

Koa kept her eyes fixed on the Jawa, the initial wonder from seeing a new species still working its way through her mind.

"That's Ton-Ton, my mechanic who's living up to his title less and less with more time wasted. His chatterin’ droid is around here somewhere -lookout for anything that rolls," Odhen's voice was nonchalant as he made his way to the entrance. "I'm guessing the princess has never seen a Jawa before?" he asked as he started lugging crates to and fro.

"Uhh," Calista glanced in Odhen's direction, realising he had mistaken Koa for her. "Actually, no. Koa has never seen a Jawa before. Neither have I. I didn't think they ventured out so far from their homeworld."

"Usually not," Odhen grunted as he lifted another crate. "Ton-Ton has a penchant for getting into trouble. You all set?"

Koa walked past them, setting the crate down in the cargo hold.

"I should think so," Calista told him.

"You hear that Ton-Ton?" Odhen shouted out into the hanger. "We're all waiting on you!"

The Jawa replied in his native tongue and Odhen tugged on his sleeveless jacket in frustration, "What do you mean I can't afford a real mechanic? You're supposed to be a real mechanic!"

"Is this thing safe to fly?" Koa asked, staring up at the ceiling and the leaking pipes.

"This beauty hasn't killed me yet," Odhen said passively.

Koa and Calista shared a troubled glance. Their looks were deterred by the rumbling of unfastened items placed recklessly about the cargo hold. For a moment, everyone stood still, watching, waiting. Then the walls of the ship began to shake and the Jawa cried out as the ladder started to roll, his plasma torch falling to the ground and igniting a tarp on fire.

"What was that?" Koa asked, hands held out to steady herself.

Calista kept looking around as the shaking intensified, "They feel like micro-quakes."

"Seismic charges!" Odhen's eyes grew wide as shouted after the Jawa, "Ton-Ton get your scrawny little ass in here, we're about to have some very angry guests!"

The Jawa scurried on stunted legs dragging a red trolley filled with tools along with him, the flaming tarp left to itself. Ton-Ton shouted after Odhen just as the hanger bay’s ceiling caved in and a troop of Elites rappelled down, firing off rounds from their hand cannons. Their black armour forming one uniform black line in the distance.

"Forget about it, as long as we can take off without blowing up, it's not important!" Odhen waved the Jawa into the ship as he pressed the button for the cargo bay doors to close. A plasma round scorching a heated circular hole into the wall next to the pilot. "Hurry up, spanner head!"

The Jawa waddled faster, managing to get on board at the last second, his red trolley banging against a set of crates.

"Can one of you fly?" Odhen asked.

"I trained for three years but only with smaller fighters," Calista said.

"That don' matter, a seat is a seat," Odhen jogged heavily to the cockpit. "Come on."

Just as Calista made her way to follow, she noticed the Jawa pulling Koa below deck. A sign pointing down to the gun turrets was placed right above the maintenance hatch that Ton-Ton pried open with a wrench.

Odhen didn't bother strapping himself in as he flipped switches and spun the Somnambulist to the side so the turrets would face the advancing militia.

"Sit down, strap in and do as I tell you, kid."

Calista slid into the seat, buckling the seat belt. The ship groaned and shook as several blasts bombarded the outside walls.

"Easy there girl," Odhen smoothed the flat surface of the dashboard with his free hand while the other pushed the navigation stick to the side. He snapped on his headgear and tuned the station until the static turned into rapid-fired words coming out in Jawaese. "Stop clogging up the channels, Ton-Ton! I hear ya! It's not like I'm trying to get shot at on purpose!"

Odhen pressed the ignition button and the whole ship thrummed with new life. A spray of blaster fire hit at the windshield, "Hey shorty, try shootin' at somethin' will ya? I can't be the only one doin' the heavy liftin'." He barked into his headset, snapping his fingers at Calista. "Hey kid, turn us starboard to 45 degrees and then push down that switch so our flaps descend."

Calista followed his instructions, breathing deeply through her nostrils so she wouldn't lose her composure. The sound of the ships cannon's firing off was loud enough to send trembles through to her spine. She felt like she was inside the belly of a giant turbine.

Even though the advancing soldiers were out of view, the sound of explosions signalled that several of the Elite's forces had just been taken off the board. Calista squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment, refusing to allow herself to feel any pity or remorse.

"Nice going buddy," Odhen cheered in the headset through shaky laughs. He tried the button for the hanger bay doors but it was unresponsive. Swearing under his breath, Odhen chimed into his headset. "Ton-Ton, I need you to blow up the hanger doors. The receiver isn't transmittin’."

More Jawaese filled the radio and Odhen simply pulled his headset over his ear. Noticing Calista's hand was shaking over the nav-stick he tapped her arm with two fingers. "Hey, kid," he snapped his fingers at her and she pried her eyes open. "I need you to stay focused. You're my co-pilot now. Can you handle that?"

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Calista nodded tightly, screwing her lips into a stern straight line, eyes focused on getting them out of the hanger and towards the horizon peaking over the blown open doors.

The Somnambulist took a hell of a beating as its parking legs folded into the base of the ship, its weight no longer grounded. The force of the attacking Elite's made the ship shake, the old bolts and screws groaning out.

Odhen punched the nav-stick as far down as it would go and the ship burst from the hanger at impressive speeds.

"I need you to keep a steady grip otherwise the torque will pull us into a tail-end spin," he informed Calista.

The ship tilted to the side, threatening to spin out just as he had warned, causing an animatronic scream to burst through the ship. The sound of tires rolling uncontrollably prompted Calista to peek at what was going on.

In the back, a legless droid seated atop another red trolley, rolled from an open compartment and into the stacks of boxes in the cargo hold.

"Woah!" The droid shouted as a crashing noise erupted.

Odhen clicked his tongue, "Damn droid..." He pulled his headset back over his ear. "Hey shorty, you forgot to secure your damn droid!"

In frustration, Calista peeled her headset off, trying to remain concentrated with flying instead.

Odhen raised a brow her way and she simply shrugged.

"He talks a lot."

"I hadn't noticed." Odhen laughed. "Alright kid, I'll take over from here. Hold on, I'm punching us into hyperdrive. Got any requests?"

"Anywhere as long as it's not here," she offered, palms running across her face as she let out a huff.

 The stars raced across the screen like a thousand shooting stars raining around the ship. The Somnambulist had stopped groaning from all the offensive fire and was now groaning from the intense speeds it was flying at. The sounds were similar but also different, less nerve-wracking.

Calista sighed as she stood from the co-pilot seat, staring longingly at the dashboard. There had been a time when the prospect of flying a ship as large as this one would have brought her joy, but right now her heart was too heavy to allow anything other than despair in.

"You aren't such a bad shot," Koa's voice praised out to the waddling Jawa. Ton-Ton said something in his native tongue in response. Koa hummed flatly before answering: "I'll pretend I understood what you said."

"He said he thought you weren't so bad yourself," the animatronic voice spoke out. "I hope I'm not being too imposing but… would one of you help me up? I'd do it myself but I have no legs."

Koa looked to the droid in the cargo hold and walked towards him, disappearing from Calista's view. Following suit, Ton-Ton hobbled over, his arms waving about.

Odhen sighed before pulling off the headset and standing from the seat with much effort, his belly brushing against the dashboard.

"Let's go see what that’s about."

 "I am immensely grateful... Miss?" The droid asked Koa as she pulled him into his trolley. The Jawa pulled out some tape from his long cloak and tried to affix the droids severed torso onto the trolley more securely.

"Knight-Captain Koa'lianu Kiddé." she greeted overly formally. “Koa for short.”

“Knight-Captain?” Odhen mouthed to himself.

"A pleasure to meet you. I am Protocol Droid M8-T7 but my master calls me Watts and so does the Captain," Watts saluted at Odhen. "I must extend my deepest apologies to you both," Watts continued.

Koa squinted her eyes in confusion, "Why?"

"When my mobility device rolled away, I accidentally crashed into your box of personal belongings. I landed on this data chip storage device and crushed its outer casing," Watts held out the necklace from before. "I hope the casing wasn't sentimental to you."

"Data chip?" Koa asked, glancing at Calista with a bemused appearance.

Ton-Ton snatched the necklace from his droids hands before Calista had the chance. His small hands bringing the shiny metal object up to his singular eye, his voice muttering something in thought as he snapped the rest of the casing off.

"Hey, hey," Odhen pointed disapprovingly. “We talked about this. Don't go stealin' shiny things. That's the reason you ended up on my ship remember? Give it back to the princess…“ Odhen pointed at Koa who in turn looked at him with a furrowed brow, “So you can get to work on the lower hull, we may have a leak to fix remember?"

"A leak?" Calista asked frantically.

"Don't worry, the most damage it could do is--" Odhen was halted from his speech when the ship suddenly fell out of hyperdrive, the momentum of the sudden stop forcing everyone to jolt forward and brace onto something for support. "Drop us out of hyperspace. Damn." He finished with a glum expression and a snap of his fingers.

Ton-Ton rambled something, his tone indicating he wasn't about to do as Odhen asked.

Watts, seeing that Koa and Calista were unfamiliar with the ships dynamic, started translating, "Ah, it seems Master Ton-Ton believes I may have damaged the data chip, but he thinks he may be able to salvage whatever was on it if you give him permission."

"Well, Princess?" Koa cocked her head to the side, staring at the hyper-active Jawa. "The choice is yours."

"Princess?" Odhen sounded shocked. "Did you know she wasn’t the princess this whole time?" He asked Ton-Ton pointing at Koa again.

Ton-Ton replied with a dismissive wave as he started tinkering with the data chip.

Odhen gaped at his small friend, "And you didn't say anything?"

Calista knelt next to the Jawa, looking him in his one good eye and nodding hesitantly, "If this data chip was with your father, stands to reason there's something important on it. Play the message."

Ton-Ton pried a panel on the back of Watts's head, moving some wiring around before slotting the data chip into the droid's head.

A hologram of a miniaturised dancing Twi’lek appeared a few feet away, her body translucent and blue. The Jawa knocked Watts on the head with a spanner before shouting at him disapprovingly.

"Oops, terribly sorry, wrong recording," the droid apologised.

This time a new hologram filled the room. It was life-sized, blue and equally translucent yet somehow more alive than the one before.

Calista let out a chocked gasp as her eyes fell on the recorded version of her mother. She was just as beautiful as she remembered and even more regal in her favourite blue gown. Her long hair falling to her elbows, a blue pin the shape of a bird clipping two braids together.

Odhen whistled in the air, his eyes widening as he shifted to get a better look at her face. Koa walked over to place an encouraging hand on Calista’s shoulder.

 "My daughter," the hologram began. "If you are watching this, then it is too late for me. I failed to see my plans come to fruition. Thesmora has always been peaceful, even during times of war and we have taken pride in that. But, I fear we may no longer be allowed to remain a neutral planet in this ever growing conflict. In truth, I do not believe we should.

I watched, helplessly, during the first war that ravaged his galaxy. I had the power to shift the balance and I chose not to do so. Yes, I had a responsibility to my people to keep them safe from the ravages of war, and I did that, but as a result, an entire planet was destroyed and we allowed a force of evil to continue its reign of terror on others.

Now that evil has returned, different and yet the same. My spies tell me the First Order is building a weapon of mass destruction, much like the one the Empire used to destroy Alderaan. I cannot in good conscience allow this evil to grow, I cannot stand back and use the safety of my people as an excuse again. We must declare allegiance. Maligma disagrees, I've never seen her so frightened before. I fear she may do something rash in her blind ambition to keep Thesmora out of this war."

Lenora's chin touched her collarbone as she took a strong and purposeful breath before looking up with steeled conviction and continuing on: "I have entrusted this data chip to Senator Kiddé, he is one of the few I trust unequivocally. The other is with Mokk-Toh. I sent him in my stead to be my voice and negotiate our terms with the Resistance. There is no one else I would trust to carry my words more."

A smile appeared on Lenora's face, "The data chips work as a set. Put them together and they reveal the location of several bomber star-ships intended for General Leia, as a show of good faith. Get this data chip to Mokk-Toh, the two act as beacons once separated. Follow the signal to his location… In case I'm not around to tell you this, know that I love you, always."

 The hologram stopped and Calista stared into her mother’s face for what felt like an eternity, the silence disturbed by Odhen's dry coughing. Koa side-eyed him as he beat his chest, trying to clear his airways.

"Stop the recording," Calista's voice was feather-light.

Watts's mechanical eye stopped projecting the recording. The blue glow dissipating from the walls of the ship.

"Can you trace the location of the other beacon?" Calista asked the Jawa.

Ton-Ton nodded before going to work behind Watts. A spark and fizzle popping out before a new projection painted the room blue again.

Koa walked closer to the map to get a better look at the location of the beacon. Her finger hooked in a circle around her chin as she examined the map further. "I'm not familiar with these co-ordinates but this section of the map looks familiar."

Odhen grumbled when he looked at the map, "I don't know why it would. That's Takodana, a pirate haven. One of the few places free from the Resistance and First Order's squabblin'. It's not governed by the Cartels neither."

"Set a course, Captain," Calista said confidently, no longer kneeling on one knee.

"It'll take us some time since we can't initiate the hyperdrive without blowin’ ourselves up," Odhen rubbed the skin on his neck. "You may want to grab some shut-eye on the way, I'll go make sure we don't fly into any debris. Space is littered with broken chunks since they fired that Star-Killer... Ton-Ton come on. I don't pay you second mate rates for nothin'."

Ton-Ton spoke in his usual hurried tones.

"What do you mean I don't pay you?" Odhen banged on the roof of the cargo hold with a closed fist. "You got shelter over your head don't ya?" Odhen rolled his eyes and headed off. "Pssh, I don't pay you. Maybe I would if you didn't have a stomach the size of a bantha, ever think of that?" He grumbled to himself.

Ton-Ton fixed up Watts' exposed control panel, handed the necklace back to Calista and placed a long piece of piping in the droid's hands before going off to join Odhen in the cockpit.

"Master Ton-Ton says I am to show you two to the crew’s quarters," Watts pushed his trolled using the pipe as a rowing stick. "This way, follow me please."

 The Resistance Base on D'Qar...

Poe was on the ground, his back pressed to a maintenance trolley, a torch held between his teeth as he worked on the modifications for Black One.

BB-8 beeped and chimed in happy tones as he rolled about next to the X-Wing.

Poe pulled the torch from his mouth when he said, "Hey BB-8 can you pass me the '44?"

BB-8 rolled over to the toolbox, clamping arm reaching out from its hidden compartment to grab the spanner but failing to get a grip. The droid beeped worriedly before a set of boots walked up to the toolbox and picked up the spanner instead.

"Here you go, Black Leader," Paige Tico's distinctive vibrato filled the empty hangar bay.

"Thanks," Poe smiled under the X-Wing, his hand reaching out to grab it. "When did you get back?"

Paige tapped her boots on the floor, "A while, I've been spending time with Rose. She worries."

Poe fixed the nut tighter and then dropped the spanner next to the toolbox, "Gimmie a hand?"

Paige wheeled the trolley out from under the jet, tossing him the rag that was on the stool.

"Thanks," Poe nodded, whipping the grease from his hands and under his fingernails.

"Missed a spot," Paige wiggled her eyebrows at the oil stain on his overalls.

Poe dabbed at the dark stains and sighed when he realised they were already dry, "Perfect." He drolled sarcastically.

Paige laughed.

"Don't laugh," despite his serious tone, a smile of its own was spreading across the Commander's face. "This is my second pair this month. The Resistance doesn't have the budget for it." He joked.

Paige rolled her eyes, "Sure, they can afford fancy X-Wing's but not a washing machine."

Poe huffed, dropping the rag in his toolbox, "You here for a reason Tico or just to eye my baby?" Poe patted his jet affectionately making BB-8 chirp and beep, "Don't worry buddy, I can have two favourites."

"Ah, the delusions of men," Paige hummed with a smug look on her face. "And no, you caught me on one of the rare occasions that I'm not trying to pester you into letting me take Black-One for a test run." Paige pointed her thumb in the direction of the exit. "The General sent me, she wants to see you in the CC."

Poe frowned, "You couldn't have gotten to that tidbit a little faster?"

Paige shrugged as she watched him and BB-8 race down the hanger, "Eh, it's more fun watching you sweat for it!" She shouted after them.

When she was alone, Paige allowed her eyes to look over the black X-Wing with a hungry expression. A whistle of appreciation leaving her cheeks as her hands glided over the cold metal. She whispered hopefully, stars in her eyes, "One of these days, baby."

 Poe slowed his pace to a slow jog when he neared the command centre. An overlapping noise of voices and machinery and buttons being pressed bombarded his ears. It was starkly different from the isolation of the hangar bay. Poe was beginning to miss his time working on his star-fighter already. He was also a little disappointed he hadn't had the time to get cleaned up before seeing Leia.

"You wanted to see me, General?" Poe announced himself into the room.

Leia turned and smiled at him, her fingers beckoning him closer, "About time Commander."

The hologram of Maz Kanada died out just as he stepped into the room.

"An old friend tells me that some new allies may require our assistance," Leia informed him. "I need you to gather a handful of your best men and head for Takodana." Leia's brow crinkled as though she had forgotten something important. "Oh, and take one of the ships we salvaged after the incident with Hosnian Prime. Don't want to arouse any unwanted suspicion."

Poe pressed his palms to the table, leaning in closer, "Mind if I ask who exactly these new allies are?"

"Maz didn't say, but something tells me they'll be revealed to you when the time is right."

"Do they know we're coming?"

"That is also yet to be determined."

Poe had to restrain himself from sighing, his head drooping down as he tried to keep his wits about him, dark curls cascading around his face and skirting across the sensitive skin right above his brow.

Lieutenant Connix walked in with a data-pad in hand, "Mission reports, General."

"Have faith, Poe. Things unravel the way they're meant to." Leia glanced over her data-pad, streams of information scrolling past her eyes as she brought her knuckles to bear the weight of her chin while she assimilated the new information.

Poe nodded, lifting his weight off the table as he made for the door.

Leia's eye twitched when she read a section of the report.

"Commander," she called after him.

Poe swivelled in a fluid motion, eyes wide in question.

"Take Ensign Tico with you. Something tells me she could use a change of scenery." Leia smiled again, "And don't dally."

"By your orders General," Poe excused himself from the room and headed for the living quarters to fetch his men and clean the grease off his fingernails.

 To be continued…

Taglist is open, just ask.

Permanent Tag List: @gruffle1 @thechickvic @notawarriorjustyet @savethehoneeybees

THE REBEL QUEEN: @carolinamalo53 @everything-intertwined

[almorras-massacre]

“Seeker of cunning, fledgling of mine, show me your mind,” a small Raven statue announced as we entered a room that vaguely resembled a frozen forest.

Suddenly, a ghostly image of  an injured hunter appeared at the base of a tree.

“A mortally wounded man lies beneath a tree. Without help, he will die. Wild beasts close in, eager for a meal,” the statue dictated, as wolfish ghostly creatures also appeared.

“Healers are nearby,” as the statue continued, two men appeared further away. “They are unarmed, and unaware of the wounded man or the beasts. 

You summon a flock of ravens for aid. What will the ravens do?”

“Make your choice at the totem,” stated Jhavi.

I walked to the statue. It was a riddle, for sure, I thought. I looked around the room, at the ghostly figures representing this challenge. What was the answer hidden in plain sight?

“I tell the ravens to take the healers to the wounded man,” I said confidently.

“I see. You want the healers to save the wounded man’s life.” As Raven spoke, a healer appeared at the man to help. 

Then, however, a healer appeared being feasted upon by the beasts, screaming in agony. “But one life is traded for another. A fate not easily avoided. Did you believe you could cheat death?” it said with a smarmy tone, and I felt my fur bristle.

“I have seen enough. The trial continues.”

“I feel like I didn’t make the right choice...” I said, staring at the statue, feeling humiliated.

“There isn’t a “right choice”, Commander. That’s what the Raven Spirit is about. That’s why we choose to follow it,” explained Jhavi, as we headed towards the next room, with me reluctantly taking up the rear.

I looked back at the statue. I wanted to argue with it. I wasn’t trying to cheat death, I wanted to say. I was trying to help everyone. I thought 3 was better against the animals. The wounded man could defend the healers. 

I turned away, as we moved as a group through the maze. And anyway, I thought, what makes it cheating death? Death doesn’t own us. That’s not what death is about. That’s the entire reason that Grenth...

I shook my head, frustrated, tapping a Raven statue as I passed it. I saw the Spirit’s image emerge from it and dart through a corridor, and followed. “Jhavi, how much farther do we have?” I asked, irritable and ready to be done with this already.

But no answer came. I looked up, suddenly realizing I was alone. “Jhavi??” I asked, looking around. The halls had suddenly gotten incredibly dark, and I felt my fur beginning to stand on end as if I was being watched.

I heard whispers, not Jormag but something else. Something swiped at me, passing through my body like a ghost’s blade, and I felt sharp coldness. Was it Jormag after all?! But as I whipped around, nothing was there.

What did Jhavi say? That things would not be as they seemed? 

I darted back to the totem I had tapped. The light returned, and I realized it was that specific area that was... dark, and wrong. But, my companions did not return to the light with me. Were they trapped in the corridor?

No, no, remember what Jhavi said. I took a deep breath and tapped the totem again. The image emerged again and went down the hallway, and I followed.

It lit up several larger statues, showing the way. But shadowy figures kept snatching at my fur, tangling in my mane, trying to chase me down and frighten me. I saw Risen giants marching the halls. Were these all tricks? Or were some of them punishing me for going a wrong way, and the Raven image was the trick?

Trust Raven. I have to trust Raven. It has not led me astray in such a way before. I shouldn’t expect it now.

“Why couldn’t you save her?” I suddenly heard Jhavi’s voice again.

“Jhavi!?” I started, looking around and feeling my heart rise. But, there was no one there.

Another trick, surely.

“She died alone,” said Jhavi’s voice solemnly. 

I kept following the image.

“Did you even try?” the voice spat.

But before I knew it, the darkness lifted, and I was in another room. Still alone, save for the Raven totem in front of me.

“Seeker of wisdom,” it beckoned.

The room was like that of a fancy library, with lovely seating and a great Raven shrine, with the walls lined from ceiling to floor with books. Seeing such literary splendor made me feel worlds better, as I marveled at all of it.

But suddenly, fires burst into the room, engulfing every shelf and book around me. I looked around in alarm as the totem began its riddle.

“A fire spreads through Tyria’s greatest library. Thousands of books turn to ash as the flames leap higher.”

Oh, burn me!! REALLY!?!

“A scholar cries, wracked with turmoil. Two books lie on opposite ends of the room.”

As the statue spoke it, a scholar appeared in the middle, looking frantic, with two books appearing quite far apart from each other, impossible to take together.

“The first is a detailed record of Tyria's history before human arrival. There are no other copies. The second is a book of arcane spells that could turn the tide against the dragons. It is the only one of its kind.”

I know it was just a test, just a bunch of fake books in a fake scenario, but I groaned in agony. I was a Priory Explorer before everything, after all. And what a horrific choice I know this is going to be.

“The scholar can only save one book. Which does she save?”

I licked my lips, anxious. Both books could mean so much to the world, to its future. But... but, knowing what I do now...

“She should save the history book!” I declared.

“You would forgo peace to preserve what came before,” it remarked, much to my dismay. “What good is the past when there is no future?”

“I--!” I started.

“I'm beginning to get a feel for you, seeker. The trial continues,” it concluded, sounding almost amused, with the room returning to normal.

“N-no!! No no no!” I yelped, hopping in fury at the totem. “The past is the key to the future!! If... if we knew the past, we’d have known that--!! We wouldn’t have killed the Dragons!! WE WOULD HAVE KNOWN GLINT’S LEGACY!!” I hollered. 

But the statue remained silent. I gave a snarling snap as I passed it by.

I was absolutely done with this place already. I had been excited and apprehensive when we started, but now all I could feel was the sting of rejection and being found out as ignorant and foolish.

I sighed as I left the room and continued through the maze. I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise, after all it’s not like things are going our way, are they-- ugh!!

I covered my nose with my paws. A foul stench had suddenly hit, stinging my eyes and making it hard to breathe. Poison!! Ash Legion knows poison when we find it! The surroundings were lit up in choking, green smog.

“We’ve lost something because of you...” I heard Braham’s voice. I ignored it and moved quickly. This poison gas was no phantasm, as I felt my health draining from me. This could actually kill me!

“All of us,” I heard Rytlock’s gravelly voice say as I started to run, feeling frantic.

“We sacrificed for you.” Braham again. I felt spittle at my lips as I bumped into a Raven shrine. There’s a trick somewhere! Somewhere! Help me survive! I looked up at the shrine pleadingly. Something, somewhere, how do I survive!?

“Aurene sacrificed for you.” Rytlock this time. I galloped around a corner and found a dead end.

“You’ll never be enough,” snarled Jhavi’s voice.

“Who do you think you are?” Crecia’s voice said contemptuously. 

I scrambled away from the wall and turned the other direction in the fork.

“You just make everything worse!” Rytlock’s growl almost matched Crecia’s in contempt.

“We can’t trust you, can we?” the condemning voice was Jhavi’s now.

“Just give up!” It was Braham’s voice, almost. It was distorted with hushed, agonized whispers. 

I stopped at a Raven barrier, and clutched my head, holding my ears. “Stop it!” I demanded. I am fucking over these god damned voices in my head!!

I shook myself. Ash Legion. Be like Ash. Be like Raven. You are a soldier, you are the Champion. I looked around. If there was a barrier, there must be totems I have missed. Panic does me no good and will not let me escape alive. I must look for the totems. 

I scanned the hall behind me, and suddenly saw it at the beginning of the T I had come from.

I darted to it, pain and oxygen depletion making my movements difficult. I activated it, and immediately felt relief. I could breathe again. I was being protected by Raven, just like the Raven shrines protected Jora’s Keep. I rested for a moment, regaining my strength.

I turned towards the barrier, but it had not fallen. There must be another totem I missed, now that I could think clearer. It couldn’t be back in the library room, so it had to be... at the “dead end”. 

Clever Raven.

I moved back towards it, and sure enough, there was the totem. Just as I activated it, however, the protection of Raven left me, and the poisonous air seized my body immediately. 

I had to make a run for it. There would surely be no time for me to stop at the other totem before the barrier was back again. 

I loped on all fours towards the now opened hall.

And as I careened past the shrine, surely past the barrier, I heard Jhavi’s voice again: “...should be coming up on the last one.”

I skidded to a stop, and my friends appeared around me.

“You’re back!!” I gasped, relieved to see and hear the real deal this time.

Rytlock looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Commander. You okay?”

“Where... Where were you?”

“We’ve been here the whole time,” Braham said, a hint of confusion in his voice. “You went quiet for a while.”

I frowned. It was all a big trick. “This place is--”

“I know,” reassured Jhavi. “But we’re almost done.”

We continued and found ourselves in another room with another totem. This time, the room was apparently a mausoleum, and we were surrounded by bones, spiritual imagery, and caskets, almost reminiscent of the Cathedral of Silence.

Another flame-damned riddle to mock me over, I thought bitterly as the statue addressed me.

“Seeker of the beyond...”

A bed appeared with a man beside it, and an elderly woman ailing upon it. 

"A plague sweeps the capital city, claiming countless victims. Both the old queen and the young prince have fallen ill. The queen is benevolent and wise, and she has ruled fairly for decades. But her age is showing. The prince is her only child. He's very young, and prone to petulance."

A darkened portal then appeared beyond the bed.

"If one dies, the other will make a full recovery. You must guide one of their souls to the afterlife. Choose."

“I choose to lead the queen to the afterlife,” I growl, arms folded, ready to receive my tongue lashing.

“You would gamble with the fate of a kingdom to preserve a young life. A child becomes king before he is ready."

A throne replaces the bed, with the young prince cowering upon it. Multiple people appear around him, making various gestures, some threats and mockery, and speaking words we could not hear. 

"He may fail. He may be taken advantage of. People will suffer. Was saving his life worth the cost?"

“Of course you’d say that,” I muttered under my breath. I don’t choose because he’s young and I value youth above wisdom, I wanted to argue again. She may not live long enough for another child...

"You have shown me who you are. The trial is complete."

Shaking my head, defeated, I left the totem, sure that I would be booted back outside. 

But to my surprise, the halls continued on, and I could hear the taunting of the fraenir.