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helis97 · 5 years ago

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TFA: CyL? _ Finale

I think it’s about time that I close this unfinished project that I so unfortunately lost the will to continue. The reasons why I can no longer continue this project is listed at the end of the synopsis of how the story is supposed to end.

From personal experiences I know that being left with an incomplete comic/story is rather annoying, especially because you might want to know “What happens to the characters? What happens to the story?”

So I have collected the courage to write down HOW THE STORY WOULD HAVE GONE immediately after the appearance of Tarn!

(A little disclaimer: English is not my first language, I make a lot of typing errors and, while I did my best, I’m really not used to write complicated text in English so there’s probably plenty of errors in here. If you find them you are very welcome to notice me and I’ll be happy to add the needed corrections.)

We are left here with Tarn, Strika, Sockwave and Red Alert in the control room of Sentinel’s space ship. -> www.deviantart.com/elis97/art/…

Shockwave cleverly pretends that Red Alert is an Autobot who have defected and that is now on the Decepticon’s side. Red Alert plays along with Shockwave’s lies and Tarn puts her down.

While Shockwave is trying to find a good excuse to leave the spaceship with Red Alert, Waspinator makes his entrance with Jetfire and Jetstorm captive.

Tarn wants to kill them, but Red Alert is able to save the twins by telling the Decepticons that the two were implemented with the unique flight mode ability that only the Decepticons posses, making them very close to an actual Decepticon.

This convinces Strika to pick a side and claim the young boys also adding that it would be nice to have youngsters around again (as almost all Decepticons are now very old).

Tarn is suspicious thought, and asks Red Alert to tell him where the AllSpark is being kept on the ship, which surprises Shockwave to a whole new level.

Red Alert with a perfect poker-face tells him that she was not made aware of the presence of the AllSpark and that she was surprised as well when Sentinel, in order to scare away the Decepticons, told them that he had it and was going to use it.

Tarn gets way too close to Red and Shockwave puts himself between the two trying to calm his friend down, only to realize that, despite having known Tarn since he was Glitch, the but he now sees is a chilling monster.

In the end Waspinator convinces Tarn that it would be quicker to hunt down Sentinel rather than wasting time with them.

The scene changes to the infirmary of the spaceship with Red Alert trying to take care of the jet-twins that are now accusing her to be a traitor like Shockwave.

Shokwave asks her if the AllSpark is actually aboard the ship, Red simply tells him that while she is not sure, the Sentinel could be that stupid.

Shockwave beliving to be able to convert the doctor to his faction, turns into Longarm and thanks Red for letting him go thus giving him a chance to live further his life.

Red Alert jams a bestiary in Longarm’s aye that makes him scream and quickly turn into his real form.

Red Alert is furious, screaming at Shockwave to have some respect for her and stop mocking her.

To Shockwave’s pain, confusion and horror, Red Alert’s eyes turn purple.

A Tarn shaped shadow gets closer to the infirmary door.

Shockwave scared to ask Red Alert if the purple eyes are a result of the truth about Longarm’s identity, but she starts laughing.

Red tells Shockwave that she got the purple eyes during the war against the Decepticons, so many years ago. During a time where she believed she could make a difference, use her abilities to save as many lives as possible, she quickly realised that she was forced to put down way more bots that she was actually saving. That horrible realization, the feeling to be helpless and sacrificable (because all cogs in the big Autobots machines are replaceable like actual charges are) made her desperate, insanely desperate.

Because Cybertron doesn’t have an institution for mental help and support, she was unable to ”heal” from the stress and the trauma of the war and the purple eyes cronicised; all she could do was hitting them with medicines and, sometimes, electronic-paint.

Shockwave realises how much damaged Red Alert actually is as he starts feeling guilty. He tries to hug Red to comfort her, but she back away right into Tarn’s arms.

Shockwave stops dead in terror as he fears that Tarn might have realized the truth about the Autobot, but Tarn is thinking something completely different.

Tarn cuddles and comforts a very freaked out Red Alert, revealing to her that he as well was left scarred and insane by the Autobots and the Decepticons’ war.

He asks with sweet, but insanely purple eyes if she doesn’t have a good idea of where the Allspark might be. Shockwave tries to talk to Tarn but is struck by a kick from the giant Decepticon. Wasp quickly comes by and immobilize Shockwave on the ground. Asking for help is useless, because everyone else is away looking for Sentinel.

Red Alert asks Tarn what he intends to do once he gets to the AllSpark. A soft look from the murderous boy accompanies his words, he wants to kill every Cybertronian in the galaxy, and will use the AllSpark to do so in one single big strike.

Red Alert looks at Shockwave and tells Tarn that the Allspark is in the hangar.

Red Alert and Tarn are walking tours the hangar with Shockwave and Waspinator behind them. Shockwvae tries to talk Tarn out of his madness, but he warns him to shut up or his vocal box will be removed.

Red Alert gently asks Tarn how he will deal with the other Decepticons as they discover what he’s trying to do, but Tarn is not worried, as soon as he gets the Allspark it will be over. That gives Shokwave an idea: opening a transmission between himself and the other Decepticons aboard the ship, he hopes that Tarn will say something that will make Strika and the rest of the team to realize what is going on.

Red Alert continues her conversation with Tarn who starts telling her the story of how he lost his sanity during “The battle of Kaon”, a battle against the Autobots. He explains that all the Decepticons forces were holding their ground inside the fortress of Kaon, trying to fend off the Autobots from entering inside. They were using energy cannons that were running out of steam.

Since the cannons were taking power from a main furnace Megatron ordered to throw inside every scrap of Energon in order to keep them running. Tarn tell that he and Lugnut were in charge of keeping the furnace lit, but when every last battery of Energon finished Megatron ordered the wounded Decepticons to be thrown in.

Tarn didn’t want to do it, but Megatron made it clear that if had he refused the order he was going to be thrown inside as well.

After every single screaming wounded Decepticon was tossed inside the furnace the attack was not over, and so Megatron ordered Tarn e Lugnut to get the weakest Decepticons and use them as well.

For every single soul that got devoured by the flames Tarn lost a bit of his mind, for every time Lugnut precede the death of his comrades as the greatest honor of all, Tarn had to stop himself from screaming in agony.

Shockwave listen in horror and remembers that durung that faitfull day he was at the command of one of the cannons that keept shooting away the Autobots. Deep down, he knew what had appened to those missing decepticons that day, but refused to actually believe at his own tought.

To the other corner of the transmition Strika starts sobbing incapable to believa that his Lugnut could have been part of something so heinous.

After that Tarn continuously revisited that event in his dreams. Endless nightmares of him jamming bolts into the furnace, unable to free himself from the nightmares he became addicted to that horror. Incapable to put his mind to rest, he started to feel the urge to kill.

Tarn is sure that Red Alert can understand how he feels and that’s why he will let her live after having turned her into something similar to Waspinator, as by doing so she will not be hurt by his attack.

Not receiving feedbacks from the other Decepticons aboard the ship, Shockwave is close to panic now that he’s aware of how far Tarn is willing to go, but a glance from Red Alert makes him realise that she has something in mind.

Red Alert tells Tarn that, if she was hesitant to follow his plan at the beginning, she now realises that there is no saving for her specie, that even the younger generation will be corrupted and destined to suffer, so, now that they are in the hangar, the AllSpark is in that box, near the hatch opening.

As Tarn approaches the point with blood thirsty eyes Shockwave realises the plan and with a martial art like move, takes by surprise Waspinator and makes a run for the controls of the opening of the hatches.

Tarn realizes the trick a second too late and the doors opens.

The wasp is blown away immediately as Shockwave grabs onto something to avoid the same end.

He quickly starch out an arm to Red Alert, but not before Tarn is able to catch her free arm.

As Red Alert realizes that Tarn is not going out that easily, she gives a last look at Shockwave who begs her not to do it. Before Tarn is able to get a better hold she lets go of Shockwave’s hand and jams a syringe in Tarn’s arm. They both disappear out of the hangar.

As Shockwave is slowly loosing his grip, Oil Slick has arrived just in time to shut the hatches close.

The two rush to the control room of the spaceship, meeting along the way the rest of the Decepticons that had rushed to help them.

Shockwave directs the ship towards the direction where Red Alert was blown away, saying that Red Alert probably injected the fake death zero into the Tarn and that she’s probably unhurt because the zero takes effect in seconds. Oil Slick grudgingly tells him that a second is more than enough for Tarns to kill someone.

As the headlights find the targets the horror takes shape.

Tarn is frozen and gray, with eyes glaring at the void, her head in his fist, surrounded by spilling Energon that floats around them in a macabre dance.

Shockwave falls on the ground, unable to lie to himself anymore.

The story moves forward a year and several months later, Shockwave is laying on a bed. He talks about when he and Oil Slick got inside Red Alert’s body that, while still had its colors on, the head was squished to a point that the facial features were no longer recognizable. Had he been able to warn her that the other Decepticons were coming to the rescue, maybe things would have gone differently.

His invisible interlocutor answers him that, despite everything, Red Alert still survived even if her memories and a good portion of her personality were wiped away.

He jokes about the fact that the AllSpark was never aboard the ship, but the Sentinel was arrested for violating major protocols, putting in danger his crew and causing the death of Safetrap. -> www.deviantart.com/elis97/art/…

Shockwave becomes sad again, saying that while he’s no longer hurting so much he still wishes thatsRed could remember the good times they had together. While the interactions between Autobots and Decepticons have improved, he still feels lonely and lone like when he was undercover as Longarm.

After a minute of silence the voice reminds him that he’s not lonely and that he will go for a walk with his friend that evening.

The voice reassures Shockwave that every person need his own time to cope with traumatic events and that, despite how he feels, he’s doing a good job.

The session reaches its conclusion and Shockwave says goodbye to his therapist, a tiny human with round glasses.

On his way out a guard checks Shockwave’s documents and, reading that has been authorized to leave the asylum for the evening, lets him out. Oil Slick is waiting for him and happily greets him.

As they walk in the street of Cybertron Oil Slick asks Shockwave how he’s been doing, but Shockwave is quick to change the subject and asks instead how he and his team are doing now that they are back on Cybertron.

Oil Slick tells him that after the accident with Tarn, Strika was furious and wanted to hear the truth about The battle of Kaon from Lugnut and flew the Autobot ship back on Cybertron. He and the rest of the team weren’t allowed to go inside the prison, but Strika went in escorted by Optimus Prime and got her confirmation from Lugnut him. When she got out she was heartbroken and struck a truce with Optimus Prime. From then on there were lots of commotion between the Decepticons lines, some wanted to return to Cybertron and were positive about the new leadership of Optimus Prime, some others weren’t happy and riots rose in all Decepticon’s outposts.

The two get in line to enter into an amusement park, guards at the entrance are making sure that no weapons are introduced inside.

Oil Slick asks Shockwave if he feels weird about the fact that a human was put in charge of his reformation.

His friend answers that it’s called therapy, not reformation, and that since it never existed on Cybertron a system to give boys psychological support, it was only logical to call a species more expert in the field.

Suddenly a familiar voice captures Shockwave’s attention.

A peculiar femmebot is talking to the her friends about the many things that the new Magnus, Optimus Prime is putting in action: amusement parks, innovative distributions of powers, unheard institution were tiny aliens take care of bots with problems, inviting other species to visit Cybertron…

Altought she no longer looks the same, Shockwave recongises Redalert’s voice and way of talking.

He spies her talking some meters in front of them, she’s with Arcee, Ratchet and Ironhide. She looks happy, carefree, full of life.

Oil Slick seems to understand the situation and asks his friend if he wants to go to talk to her, but Shockwave refuses.

At the entrance of the amusement park the guards look at Shockwave with suspicious, asking for his documents again. Not finding anything wrong, they let him in.

Shockwave tells his friend that Red Alert got her memory wiped away and, as a result, the purple eyes disappeared an she became a happier but, he doesn’t want to be part of her new life, not yet and maybe not ever again.

Oil SLick notices that Shockwave’s eye is now purple and realises why he was housed in a mental asylum rather that in a prison. He asks him if Redalert was the reason he got purple eye.

While departing from the rest of the crowd, Shockwave reveals to his friend that after the accident with Tarn he chose to personally bring both Red Alert and Tarn to the hospital, fearing that the Autobots would have been too incompetent to help them without his lead.

As a result, he got arrested and sent to prison. The voice of him being affiliated to an Autobot and a traitor spreads truth the prison, and from that moment, every single Decepticon inside the prison started hating on him.

Oil Slick incredulous asks why Megatron didn’t take his side, considering that he was his most loyal servant.

The fact is that Strika’s intervention put in a bad light Megatron’s leadership. When Shockwave tried to explain to his leader the whole story, Megatron directed his follower’s attention away from his own horrible actions and focussed them over the fact that Shockwave wasn’t able to keep vital information away from the Autobots. So while not directly calling him a traitor he was still accused of such.

Similar to Wasp, after months of being lonely, hated, humiliated and ignored when trying to explain himself, Shockwave developed purple eye. But unlike what had happened to Wasp, Optimus ordered his displacement and had an expert take care of his condition before the purple eye becomes chronic.

Because of this Shockwave is in debt with the Autobots and believes that, leaving Red Aler alone, is a way to pay back the Autobots.

Oil Slick has a different way to see the thing, in his opinion, it’s the Autobots that are paying back Shockwave for having him tortured by Lockdown.

Shockwave doesn’t answer, instead looks back at a now very far away Red Alert.

Turning back again, he tells Oil Slick that he will never forget his gesture of friendship. Oil Slick smiles then, pointing to a stall with his finger, tells Shockwave he hadn’t had cotton-Energon since he was a sparkling. Shockwave giggles saying that he as well, hasn’t had cotton-Energon in a long time.

Red Alert turns her head around to see Shockwave and Oil Slick having cotton-Energon, she smiles tenderly, then returns her attention to her friends.

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Now that the story was told I would like to take a moment to simply talk about why I could no longer continue the comic. There are a couple of reasons, one of them is the amount of time that would have taken to finish the bloody thing! And I swear to you that I tried my best to keep it at its bare essential exactly for the fear of it becoming too long.

Another reason is that I didn’t enjoy drawing the characters. As surprising as it might be, I started this project believing that once familiar with the design I would have been able to draw them with ease, which didn't happen. Aside from Shockwave I don’t particularly enjoy drawing TFA style and I bloody hate to color the character because I was always feeling bored and frustrated every time I forgot a particular. That created some major inconsistency in the pages. (and yes, that bothers me a lot)

I believe that the most important reason that prevented me to finish the opera as I wanted is the fact that this story kept changing every time! Aside from the first Chapter the rest kept evolving, changing direction, changing the ending and I was never happy. In the end the biggest problem was simple: I just couldn’t make a happy ending. I really wanted Red Alert and Shockwave to be together, but I simply couldn’t do it, no matter how much I kept changing the story I was never able to make it work, and I have only myself to blame.

In the end, I could never finish the story because I never knew how it was supposed to end, and I passed so much time in between that I simply grow interested in other things, other fandoms, other stories in general.

Life in general was also in the way… as always.

Anyway, while I will never be able to put this story in comic pages I’m happy to be able to tell you how I decided to end it. I am very thankful to all the people who follow the story and left a nice comment under every page and for those people I’m truly sad that I was unable to deliver the whole story in comic format.

Since I know many things were left out in this synopsis, if you have any questions or clarifications, feel free to ask me and I will do my best to answer it.

#tfa #transformers animated #shockwave #tfa shockwave #tarn #Red Alert #TFA Red Alert #autobots #decepticons

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thechroniclesofdaraliss · 5 years ago

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100 Mutants & Masterminds Session Ideas (Part III)

It has been some time since I made one of these lists. But when you fight crime with your best friends every few weeks from the comfort of your DM chair, you have some stories you want to share. That’s right, another 100 ideas for all your superhero adventures! Whether you defend a small neighborhood or the entire planet, there should be something here for everyone. If you like what I do, please like, comment, or reblog. So let’s grab our utility belts and bend our morals like iron bars, and take to the skies for another day of heroism!

A mercenary from the last war has developed psychic powers, and is targeting the rich. Forcing them to see the war through his eyes, to endure what he did behind enemy lines.

An underground community is revealed that has people forced into acting out the master’s wishes.

An anonymous Hero is stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.

The world’s smartest computer strays from winning chess matches and desires to conquer humanity.

A miraculous medical treatment has the whole world excited. Strange insects can apparently heal any wound or cure any illness. But the origin of these bugs is horrifying. They are mingled with vampiric blood, and perform these procedures to cure patients and eat them once they’re made whole. They cure meat, not disease.

A mysterious figure (robot, knight, etc) waits at the same location for a worthy opponent to defeat him. No matter who approaches, they remain undefeated.

The villain has infused the next rainfall/snowfall/hailstorm with a deadly substance (acid, micro-explosives, a carnivorous liquid species). They will hold the city to ransom, or let loose with the deadly drops.

A skilled hypnotist is bending people to their will. They don’t appear to have designs of conquering the world or even the city, but they are still ruining lives.

A fiendish union has formed in the criminal underworld. Four of the most powerful syndicates have joined forces for their biggest operation ever (super-heist, massacring heroes, expanding influence to another major city, etc).

The most powerful figures in the city are committing acts that open them up to scandal and criminal punishment. Acts they wouldn’t perform in a million years. They seem to have no will of their own, like puppets. You must find out who’s pulling the strings.

The sewers of the city are overrun with monstrous creatures at the call of a villain (hidden foe who’s resurfaced, new alien presence, mad science gone wrong).

A young con artist is being hunted by the mob and the FBI. He plans to ruin both his pursuers in one big sting before skipping town. You have been tasked with taking him down.

You discover that a young individual is absorbing demons to fuel their power. But they aren’t trying to cause harm. They’re doing this to arm themselves for an onslaught against an archdemon. To fight fire with fire.

Royalty from the Far East has arrived to demolish agents of an organization dedicated to tearing their family and throne apart. They have requested that you and your team assist in defeating them.

A rogue religious leader is performing miracles of biblical proportions. You must get to the bottom of this before he garners too strong a following. His human flock could become an army and his meta-human acolytes could become powerful villains.

The Police department’s golden boy/girl has been shot in cold blood. While they are recovering in the hospital, their would-be murderer is still on the loose. You need to track them down before they try to kill them again.

Someone is using Transmutation to turn all of the scrap metal into military-grade weapons.

A monster is running across the city, absorbing people’s bodies almost instantly by touch. Is he a dog on someone’s leash, acting on his own, or part of a larger operation?

Energy-absorbing entities are fighting to reach earth’s surface so they can harness the power of the planet’s core. Earth will shatter and die, but they will continue their conquest among the starts. That is, unless you stop them.

A scientist is attempting to perfect the technology to steal superpowers. But when his latest attempt goes sour, he is an amalgamation of all his subjects. A screaming mass of bodies, personalities, and super-capabilities.

A demented and extravagantly wealthy cyborg has designs on taking political office. While the press and voters adore him, there’s evidence suggesting he’s in league with the underworld.

A collection of stone tablets have been discovered at different sites across the globe. But when they are unveiled at a museum opening, they summon giants made up of the four elements, all in order to summon “the Fifth Element.”

Men are turning up in hospitals wounded and completely unaware of who they are. It turns out that a psychic has been taking to the streets. One with the ability make people forget who they are the more they make you look into their eyes.

When a team of arcane champions dies, the ancient order they represent go for the next best candidate, your team. They need you to defeat an Elder Evil.

A villain has been released from prison. Their crime was forgiven too easily, and they seem to be immune to the law when they get out.

A convention for heroes is being held in your city. All of the heroes gather for panels, signings, and interaction with fans. It’s the perfect place to recount your adventures, or for your enemies to set a trap.

After a public execution, a practitioner of black magic has risen from the grave. You must discover the truth behind how it was done, as their return is the beginning of a “grand design.”

A meta-human child has emerged with incredible powers. But they don’t want anything other than to find their mother, who has gone missing.

A legendary hero has issued you a challenge. If you complete all of his trials, he will share the secret to expanding meta-human abilities.

In wake of the solstice, a supernatural force demands an audience with you and your team. The twist? The villains have intercepted this message and want to destroy the contact point before you get there.

A band of young rebels aid your team in the fight against crime. But their methods entail terrorism, wanton destruction, and interrogation of civilians.

As you engage in superpower practice, you discover that anomalies are forming in your DNA. Is it the next stage in your development as a hero, or could this spell disaster for you and your team?

You discover that the world will be destroyed in a few years time (alien invasion, super-virus, magic-induced apocalypse) unless you destroy the pillars of the plan. While some prove to be simple, others demand you to do the unthinkable.

A movie star comes to the city, and their arrival coincides with the theft of government property. Is the star responsible, or is there more to the story?

An Android has become obsessed with creating “the master race” of humanoid automatons. They will stop at nothing until the human race has been corrected to fit his picture of perfection.

You discover an artifact that forced you to delve inside yourself and confront your psyche, both the good and the bad.

Your team has been forced into different bodies. You must find a way to get them back before the villain uses them for his own ends, and cuts you off from getting them back forever.

You investigate the theft of cargo on vehicles coming into your city. You soon discover that a race of animalistic humanoids (shark-folk attacking ships, mole-folk attacking trucks, etc) are stealing weapons that will be used to slaughter their people.

A young and inexperienced meta-human hopes to join your team. Is this a trick, or an earnest attempt to right wrongs in your city?

A vain perfectionist of a meta-human has kidnapped your entire team and forced them to run a deadly obstacle course.

A malicious presence haunts your home base and starts taking your team away one by one.

You and your teammates decide to crash a gathering of villains, only to find that they are trying to start over. All they want is to lead normal lives.

A killer is running rampant in the city, and he’s donning a Battlesuit to ensure he can fight off heroes. But how does a serial killer get access to such technology?

A contract killer has been murdering heroes so he can cover them in the press. It’s a scam worthy of the underworld’s foremost assassin.

A series of artifacts must be gathered, or a sorcerer will leave your loved ones in a permanent state of petrification. The catch? They plan on killing them anyway and unleashing a demonic entity onto your world.

One of the most powerful individuals in the city is funding both heroes and villains. They plan to start an all-out war and to get rich from the ensuing chaos.

You battle a Necromancer in the local cemetery. However, you discover that the graveyard is the ritual circle for the most elaborate mass-summoning in history.

A series of giant robots have threatened to destroy the city if the heroes don’t willingly surrender themselves. When captured, the villains reveal their plan to use your team as batteries for their most ruthless collection of weapons ever: The Dominators.

The heroes uncover a conspiracy that is nearly a century old, and the agents are finalizing the plot to demolish the country (cold-war tensions, remnant Nazi Regime, etc)

A twisted sorcerer intends to revive his deceased patsies and take over the world with their help.

Someone is kidnapping women and sending them off to an unknown location.

The most powerful and famous heroes from across the world gather in your city. Soon after, you receive word that someone has intercepted the location and intends to kill them all.

A host of powerful villains declare war on the heroes, using their mobile fortress and demand the heroes surrender. You and your team fight back with everything you have from your headquarters to each other.

A villain has set out to poison the city’s water supply.

A call for help has come from the local jail/asylum. But when you arrive, it turns out that the villains want to test your morals and put you on trial for your deeds as a hero.

A small group of aliens crash-land on earth, hoping to find one of their missing brothers/sisters. But when they find them, the individual wants to stay on earth, the result is a fight that could endanger the whole city.

Artifacts with diverse and terrifying sets of capabilities have fallen in and around your city. A villain hopes to gather them all, and use them to become invincible.

People are going missing across the city, and resurfacing the next day, completely drained of energy and reduced to shriveled husks. Find the killer before they strike again.

The Triad has entered your city and is muscling in on every criminal operation.

A mischievous meta-human has set out to use their abilities for their own ends. While they start out a hero, they discover that consequences don’t meet them, and they elect to use their abilities for more selfish reasons. If left unchecked, this potential ally could become a formidable enemy.

A new technology has been developed that has the capability of stealing data from a computer and/or demolishing it.

Miniature menaces (robots, aliens, goblins, etc) are attacking all over the city. In order to stop them at their source, you need to keep fighting and capturing them. Once you clear the area, the villain will reveal themselves and there will be an all-out battle.

A shroud of darkness falls over the city, and you have been touched by a malevolent presence within it. Since you are tougher than the average human, you’ve gotten hit with influence of this being, with only some of the drawbacks. Use this new power to fight back!

You tamper with the timeline, and suddenly your city is prehistoric, Bronze Age, colonial, modern, and futuristic, all in one!

All of the natural aspects of your city (trees, water, animals) are dying. The source appears to be a center of rot in one of the last vestiges of natural life in your city. Delve into it, and discover an entire lair, home to a Lord of Rot.

A massive crevice has formed below your city, and upon further investigation, it’s a hub of hostile reptilian creatures. You must fight them back, or the city’s will be overrun with an ancient, and overwhelming species.

Oceanic creatures take to the shore of your city and demand that you give up the surface world to the “superior regime.”

A Necromancer poses a challenge, saying he will meet you at the point between life and death. You follow his clues, and arrive at a mausoleum, only to find that you must fight a house of the dead to capture this man.

A tower shoots out in the center of the city, and it appears to be from another time (far past or far future). Approaching it from any angle makes it fire a horrible death-ray. You approach it, and suffer damages, but lose your powers. You must find a way to get them back and to stop the death ray from holding the entire city hostage.

The local police are planning a raid on the local crime boss’ lair.

A villain has approached a member of your ranks with the intent to turn them to the side of evil.

A psychic investigator falls comatose at the scene of a crime, and you swear you can hear their voice asking you to perform tasks to get them back in their body.

A trickster is zooming across the city, causing mayhem wherever he goes. The heroes intervening only convinces him to stick around.

Dark versions of your team emerge and commit the crimes. But when you try to defeat them, they know your every move before you even do it.

You have been chosen to represent earth in a series of intergalactic games that will test your intelligence, athleticism, and combat capabilities. The losers all have their planets destroyed.

A series of crystals are discovered within your city. When touched, they transport you to a dark version of your own world.

A sorcerer has inherited their master’s spellbook. But when they use it, they accidentally unleash powers they are helpless to control.

Someone is combining alien technology with human devices.

An army of aliens is bound for earth with the sole purpose of enslaving every human.

An anonymous terrorist is keeping the entire city on edge, forcing the everyman to perform services for him in exchange for keeping their darkest secrets.

Heroes have become split on the issue of siding with the government, or remaining independent.

You and your team have been outfitted with the battlesuits that will enhance your powers to fight an immense evil force. While they work at first, the drawbacks are crippling.

You and your arch nemesis are forced to work together in order to survive an onslaught against someone who is trying to kill you both.

A new hero emerges, stopping crime as soon as it appears. But it’s revealed that these supposed criminals are staging the crimes because the new hero is paying them to do it. They are actually playing their boss for a fool, and are using this leeway to actually pull off the crime and pin everything on him. He wanted glory, and will instead get jail time unless you intervene.

One of the most powerful crime families has had a coup. Anyone who was part of the uprising will be killed, along with anyone that can be affiliated. The last few survivors come to you for help escaping.

A contest has been announced where all of the most powerful meta-humans will be asked to fight, race, and compete to get the title of “Ultimate Hero.” But those who lose go missing.

A tribe of small creatures have been expelled from their home, and they ask for your help getting it back.

A gargantuan mutant has been terrorizing a small community, and they are helpless to stop him, as he has hostages. You must defeat this creature and rescue the captives.

You and your team elect to take a vacation, but trouble follows you more than ever. Little do you know that all the crimes and accidents are the attempts of a reporter trying uncover proof of your secret identity.

You investigate a set of “mystery spots,” only to find that they are connected by a strange alien presence that bends the laws of physics.

The heist of the century has begun as the villain(s) plan to kidnap all world leaders at a secret meeting.

Children are going missing, and you soon discover the Faye are involved.

A gang war threatens to tear the city apart. All of the most powerful members have meta-human capabilities.

You have been captured by a tribal meta-human society that refuses to acknowledge humanity. However, if you beat them in their challenges, they will determine you as worthy and let you go.

You discover an island in the sky, and must override its weapon system from becoming a threat to the entire world

A mysterious entity is defeating heroes across the globe and freezing them before teleporting away. The assumption is they are gathering these fallen heroes as trophies, but villains soon go missing too.

A mage has been using her influence to summon her most powerful rivals to her, and is stealing their powers. One of them comes to see your team, and says in time, she will try to do the same to you.

Your archrival challenges you to a duel to see who is the best, once and for all. Whoever wins gets to unmask the other. The loser will go into witness protection.

The resurrection of a villain goes horribly wrong, and it’s discovered living humans are required to restore them to their former glory.

You discover a portal that leads to alternate dimensions/parallel earths.

#the chronicles of daraliss #Mutants and Masterminds #rpg #session ideas #campaign ideas #rpg world #story inspiration #tabletop rpgs

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sometimesrosy · 6 years ago

Note

You really think they’re going to go back to earth?? I mean, I could see Bellamy and Clarke landing at the dropship site all ready to rebuild humanity with radioactive playing softly in the background, fade to black. But I can also see them really leaving earth in book one.

It is, of course, only a speculation. I don’t know. I recognize that I am leaping ahead of canon evidence to make that speculation, but then, I have done that before and been correct. I guessed, from out of nowhere that cryo sleep would be a solution, but my guess came too early. I guessed that for the COL they would save everyone instead of losing everyone like MW, because that’s the kind of twist that would keep an audience on it’s toes. Once i accepted the time jump and clarke left behind, I guessed that she would become a mother, although I said it woud be bellamy’s child. So i got the motherhood right but not the shipping spec. When you spec on this show based on shipping it’s almost never right, that’s not how they make their narrative choices. I guessed that s5 would end with Bellamy and Clarke would lose the war for Eden (McCreary cheated) and take their people who stopped fighting into the wastes for an exodus. As the season went on it became probable that the exodus would be in the stars instead of on earth. So like, these big conceptual stories? I’m picking up on. I think it’s because I speak the same language as JR, 90s scifi geek who went to college to study writing. We have the same references in our heads. Once I started LOOKING for his symbolism and allusions and archetypes, the whole show fell into place and made a lot of sense to me. This show is NOT random. He’s not changing the story to please fandom or to hurt them (except in cases where he can WORK with the changes.)

I’m not intending to brag, I’m intending to show you that although my spec seems like it comes out of left field and there’s no basis for it, the basis actually comes with the TYPE of story he’s telling and the common language in the GENRE. Like, I started picking up on his symbolism in s3, but if I didn’t keep getting confirmation that I was right with the themes and archetypes and symbolism and allusions, I would have changed my theories. But I keep getting confirmation that I’m on the right track. JR is going down a familiar path for me. So I’m trying to find the street signs and show them to you so you can follow the path too.

So WHY did I come up with this wacky theory about Clarke and Bellamy returning to earth? HOW? It didn’t happen until s5 was over and I started getting asks and started reading/watching those references he told us about and started thinking how all the storylines converge.

long and involved, so, below the cut.

Snarky foreshadowing– This was when I first went, wait, what? Raven, when she flew the last ship off of earth said, “Just once I’d like to take off from a planet while it wasn’t burning.” TWICE she’s done that. Third time’s the charm. They’ve been fixing the traumas, I think we’ll get this one again too, only this time the planet won’t be burning. They’ve got ONE planet left. The new one. Therefore, they will be leaving the planet and it won’t be burning. But WHY would they leave the planet when it’s not burning? Then I had to find a REASON for them leaving the safe haven planet.

History repeats itself– This story is about how pre-apocalypse humans were ruining the world. Becca is the real wanheda. She, her creation, eradicated humanity. That’s the genocide. She started the harshness of the Ark because of her madness. She started the harshness of the grounders as Pramheda. She came back and we saw her trying to fix what she’d done. She ALSO had to do with the eligius program and invented their nightbood. THEREFORE, the new planet colony is a descendent of Becca’s original crimes against humanity. Was it all an accident? Sure? But also it was the result of her choices, her hubris, her genius. She is Doctor Frankenstein. (Actually I just made that connection and I feel stupid for missing it. Does it work? Anyone see it also?)

You are responsible for your monster when you let it out– Lincoln’s words. VERY IMPORTANT. This makes EVERYTHING in the story make sense. If people don’t take responsibility for their evil, they are the monster. If people TRY to take responsibiilty for their evil, they are the hero. That’s why leaders sacrificing others is not a sacrifice, they aren’t taking responsibility they are using people. But Clarke or Bellamy risking their lives to fix their mistakes IS heroic. It’s not always smart, but that’s the good guy move. hero/monster has been a theme since s1.

The structure of the story is a spiral– They are returning to their greatest traumas and FIXING them. Making the right choice this time. Teaching others to make the right choice, learning from their mistakes instead of doubling down on their evil actions in order to make it worth it, like Octavia all season 5. Or Lxa in s2. Or Jaha the whole show. Or Cage Wallace. Redemption comes through recognizing your monster and DOING BETTER. Redemption is a MAJOR theme of post-apocalyptic stories.

Eligius 3 are Colonialists, NOT refugees– Monty said that they went to the new planet to USE the resources because the resources of the earth were used up. They aren’t looking for a home, they’re looking for another planet to consume. THIS IS WHAT STARTED THE ORIGINAL FALL OF HUMANITY. They reflect the values of Mount Weather who believed the earth was their birthright and treated the people on the surface as cattle to be used and tortured. This is a repeat of the MW conflict.

Eligius 3=Mount Weather– that means we’ll be getting a redo of the biggest and most traumatic “failure” that Clarke and Bellamy had. Except, it never really was a failure. It was the RIGHT thing to do. It happened also to be best for their people, but it was GOOD, even though it caused harm to some innocent people, because as Maya said, none of them were innocent. They were the disease. Clarke (med student, remember?) had to KILL the mountain to put it out of its suffering (like Atom) and to save the rest of humanity. This means that Eligius 3 will ALSO be the disease. They ARE the disease that caused the apocalypse.

JRs reading/viewing list: all about the aliens– Weird non linear, non reality hybrids of alien and human. Consciousness. AI. Philosophy. Religion. I have not gotten to see ALL of the films or read the books, but I’ve researched them all a bit and they share themes. Also Avatar (blue not airbender) And I believe that we’ll have a non-humanoid kind of alien that bonds with the humans to create something new (also if you’ve ever read Ender’s Game which JR certainly did, it actually moves on to tell the story of Ender as Speaker for the dead, and his psychic connection, facilitated by an AI in his head [JANE!] who brings back the dead species and allows another very odd species to be recognized as sentient. HOLY CRAP Madi is the speaker for the dead. omg i just realized!

If humanity is to be redeemed, they have to be responsible for their monster – They have broken the cycle of violence amongst themselves. They encounter a society that will be JUST as poisoned as the pre-apocalypse society that started this all. Russell’s people will BE the monster. Their enemy (the aliens who are NOT their people) will be the victims. To be the good guy, they will have to CHOOSE their enemy over their people. Lincoln did it. Maya did it. They were The Good Guys. Clarke and Bellamy will have to end Russell’s people. In doing so, they will replay the MW trauma, but this time they will understand WHY it had to happen and will heal the trauma of the past, because they are HEALING humanity.

If humanity is to be redeemed, they must FIX what they have broken, that is The Earth itself– They can’t drop Earth when it’s no longer providing for them and move onto another planet that they can use up. If you look at The 100 in terms of environmentalism, which you can, you can see this would make them the bad guys. To be the good guys, they have to go back to what they did and start over. This fits the spiral structure, as well as being the Good Guy and being responsible for your monster.

They aren’t going to discard the earth, or humanity– Why? Because they wouldn’t let Octavia martyr herself. She represents humanity. She will now be forced to WORK to redeem herself and fix what she did. So will humanity. They do not OWN the Earth, the Earth owns them and they are the caretakers. Octavia needs to go back to earth and treat it like her responsibility, not her property. She needs to follow what Lincoln believed. The attempted martyrdom was a reference to Lincoln. But she was cheating. She can’t cheat redemption.

THEY CAN’T CHEAT REDEMPTION: THEY HAVE TO GO BACK TO EARTH. In real life, none of this would have to happen, but this is not real life. This is JR with a story he wants to tell. The story is about the redemption of humanity and two mythic heroes who save humanity, not by keeping them from dying, but by leading them to redemption. THIS IS EPIC.

When I started thinking about all these thematic questions, I saw that it started to form into a narrative, and many of the characters had roles to play within this narrative, some more than others. When I looked at those characters and their relationships, it completely connected to the long game stories of the relationships of the delinquents and the storylines that are actively being told and have been left open at the end of season 5.

This theory slots the character arcs into the themes of the show as a whole AND the new main plot story of aliens, new planet, russell’s “peaceful” (yeah sure) society, bellamy and clarke’s commitment to be the good guy.

So yeah. I see them leaving the new planet to take responsibility for the planet humanity killed, destroying russel’s peaceful society so they can’t destroy the new planet, and leaving Madi behind (she is special) as the steward for the new people.

Because of the ORIGINAL foreshadowing that brought on this spec, Raven wishing to take off of a planet that isn’t burning, we know that they won’t destroy the new planet. They will save it. And leave it. In order to redeem humanity.

leaving madi and echo behind with the aliens is not necessary for this redemption plot, but it fits the youth shall inherit the earth generational story and reflects Abby’s struggle with letting go of Clarke, and also Echo’s story of belonging and family and loyalty, and with her stated backstory. You see how this theory connects the larger themes to the character arcs? it just makes sense to me. It isn’t convoluted to me. It is a direct if this, then that, kind of logic. It’s just that it is bringing together MANY past concepts and lessons to save humanity. I don’t know if it sounds convoluted to other people, so if it does, ask me question and we can see if i can get it any clearer.

I can tell the entire story now, with places for the main characters dealing with their personal stories. And it all fits. It’s CRAZY but I’m so excited about it, I can’t wait to see if I’m on the right track. Because if I am it is going to be SO GOOD. Like REALLY. Like miraculous. And everyone who ever hated on this show is going to have to eat their words. Just. I mean. WOW.

And all the characters people think were discarded and deserved better? They all have an important place, too. Wells has the vision for a life well lived. Lincoln’s idea of being responsible for your monster. Lxa’s power will actually be related to how they can save the new people (the flame), Maya’s conviction that she needed to stop her people because they were doing the wrong thing. Jasper’s belief that the problem WAS humanity and it might not be worth saving. Luna’s desire for peace. HOLY SHIT.

#the 100 #the 100 speculation #speculation #return to earth theory #aliens theory #i'm not really interested in 'no it's not' commentary because no one can KNOW if it's not because it's a spec #but i am interested in questions about how it would work or things i haven't considered or haven't seen #even if those things seem to oppose this spec #if something disproves it i'd like to know and see if i can fit it into the spec

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dj-yukio · 6 years ago

Text

Regular Day

Part 2 of Faction 63: HUNT

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19102432/chapters/45631711#workskin

By the time the boss gets to the table, it’s evident to all present to the meeting that she did not have a good night. The boss’ yellow eyes seem to lack lustre, her hair is in a frenzy in comparison to her usually neat hairstyle, and she’s still in pyjamas, with one slipper on, the other barefooted. To add to that observation, it seemed as though that Kurotsuno herself hadn’t even noticed that she looks like a mess in the morning, but no one mentions the wardrobe malfunction as she sits down at the head of the table and reaches out for the list that is in the hands of their communications manager, Met.

Of course no one mentions it. This is how their boss looks like almost everyday.

“Mm... let’s see...” Her eyes squint as she reads the contents of the list. Once she seems to gets the general idea, she rattles off the commands. “Met, the phones, take down the orders and compile them. Get their address this time, we don’t want a repeat of last time. Bis, Reina, body management as usual. Expect a large quantity because someone ordered fifty human sets today. I’ll be meeting with RIDE to discuss the transportation. And Hanten, I need you to work overtime again.”

“Again?” The snark in Hanten’s voice isn’t lost on Kurotsuno, who proceeds to glare at her. “What for?”

Of all the people in the room, it was said that only Hanten was capable of rivalling Kurotsuno’s authority. Despite being the right hand of their boss, they might as well have been on the same level of influence in their faction. That was evident in how the boss and right hand stared at each other before Kurotsuno eventually backed down and pushed her fingers against her temples.

“Firstly, I need you to deliver the goods here, all fifty of them. As per normal. Secondly, I need you to accompany me to F35. It’s going to be a long day whether we like it or not.”

A grunt of dissatisfaction, but Kurotsuno would gladly take that over more complaints. Honestly, she doesn’t even blame her for those complaints. The week has been busy, more so on Hanten’s side as she needs to do her job with no witnesses. It’s not easy trying to catch every single one and lug them around, which actually makes her job harder than most would expect. Come to think of it, the last time she managed to do her job quickly was thanks to the fact that she found out a few apartments were hosting sleepovers, but even that resulted in someone falling out of the window and attracting attention, and Hanten barely managed to take all the corpses before more people were to storm the building. In contrast, she had been having an endless number of meetings, with the occasional battle of wills and mindsets, to which her right hand still has to drag herself out to accompany her even if she’s not participating in the dialogue.

A voice pulls her out of her thoughts. “But anyway, why the sudden spike?” All eyes turned to Bis who folded her arms in response. “I mean, fifty in a day is a bit excessive. That’s a load of sets to deal with. Who ordered them?”

Met shuffled the papers in her hands before tapping at something on the folder. “Another world, actually! Ooh, I haven’t gotten someone from there onto my show before, but I heard that they were real upset when the peace treaty got signed.”

“I thought they banned-bannedthis because they wanted peace?” Bis looks understandably confused, after all, it’s not in the hands of the youth to understand what goes on in the minds of odd adults. “What’s with all the rule breaking? It’s not just two worlds with the issue, it’s almost all of them.”

Silence follows. Definitely, at the back of most of their minds, they know the answer. The whole thing was a facade, and the people in power don’t exactly want to give up on having those customs, and those not in positions refuse to let go of historical baggages.

It’s Reina that lifts the atmosphere back up. “Regardless, if they never had this issue, we wouldn’t be here profiting from it.” Then a thought strikes her, and a frown forms. “Actually, why is human meat banned? Our faction... we deal with angels, demons and other species, but mainly humans. Aren’t only the gods and devils in charge of all this?”

“Oh! The leader in Mogeko Castle changed, and they human, so... yeah.” Met gives a weak shrug in response before looking at the two demons. “Think it was that girl we saw the other time, Yonaka, was it-“

Kurotsuno slams the documents down, the otehr hand rubbing her eyes.

“Enough. We’ve already discussed the basics of our duties, so let’s get on with it. Maybe we can rest early. Maybe. End of meeting.”

“Shouldn’t it be ‘meeting adjo-‘“

“Meeting end. Now move, before it’s not just the meetings that end.”

Met nods quickly before scampering off, and the two yokai follow behind. The grumpy demon yawns before getting up, picking up her jacket which she had set on the chair prior to the meeting before heading to the door when a hand grabs onto her arm.

“Hanten, while you’re out, I need a coffee, preferably before the meeting.”

She blinks, before a small grin appears on her face. “A coffee? Sure you don’t want tea or chocolate or something else?”

Kurotsuno pinches her nose before glaring at her best friend for knowing her too damn well. “Whatever. The usual.”

She can almost taste the air of cockiness when Hanten shrugs. “Ah, the usual. Got it. Would you like me to repeat the order to make sure I get it right?”

“...no.”

——————————

Information is vital, especially regarding news of how hard law enforcement intends to crackdown on the underworld. It’s almost like a currency, and no one knows that better than Met.

That’s why she enjoys being a DJ. It’s like killing two birds with one stone, being able to occasionally get outsider information from her listeners as well as host her own show to keep a facade up. It wouldn’t do for people to one day question how her friends and her sustain themselves. Questioning would lead to rumours, rumours would lead to investigations, investigations would eventually uncover lie after lie that they could possibly throw out, and that wouldn’t do for them.

But regardless, she’s not heading to her studio to host her show. Instead, she heads to a bar, a small business that is run by another faction’s member, specifically faction 44. INFO, as inconspicuous as its name is, truly deserves that number for its symbolism of ‘double death’. Pretty accurate since the dirt they had could ruin some people’s lives, she thinks.

Luckily, they don’t have much blackmail material against them, if they have at all, but that’s not important anyway. The bar’s relatively empty, and she waves to the bartender who has a piece of paper stuck to his face. She has always been curious why he would do that, but then again, the topic was somehow always avoided in their casual conversations.

“Hey Maekami!” Within seconds, she’s beside him, poking his tail. It’s fascinating, she thinks, what with how they move and function depending on the differences in their shapes. Demons are fascinating in that aspect. “Got anything new for me?”

He gently pushes her away before moving closer to the storage room. “Please refrain from touching my tail, miss Met. And yes, there are a few letters and magazines. Would you like a drink?”

“Yep. Jus’ spill all the tea!”

Even though his face is hidden behind a piece of paper, from how he stands there and seemingly stares at her is telling enough to know that he’s confused. Then he regains his composure before shaking his head. “It would be a waste of a drink to do that. Would you rather spill water instead?”

Evidently her meaning flew over his head, but before she could correct him, a large stack of magazines appeared before her. Or at least, that was what it looked like from afar. To most, it would have looked like the bartender just gave a weeks worth of porno to a teenage girl that had been left behind by the more perverted customers, but to those in the know, most of the content in the magazines had been edited to contain other non-pornography related passages, the only thing remaining being the photos.

Not that Met minded. It was better to have pictures of ladies in compromising positions with the text beside them than to have to read all the information on plain paper in a folder. Besides, the more decent demons wouldn’t even look her way if they thought it was porn.

Her phone started buzzing halfway through that thought, and she fished it out of her pocket to look as a barrage of notifications started coming in from unknown numbers.

Another day of work again.

——————————

Bis sighed for almost the hundredth time as she plunged her dagger into the cold skin protecting the precious organs they need to harvest. It doesn’t help that the basement is freezing, meant to keep the goods as fresh as they can be for transportation, but then again the young yokai is used to death, and she’s experienced with dealing with the unnatural chills that occur while she prepares them.

It’s better to think of the humans that she cuts up as a lower species, not even worth her time to give them a small funeral. Even if she’d wanted to, she doesn’t think that it’d be good for her name to dig a hole and pour symbolic sticks and stones into it, not with a ghost who continuously mistakes her as a dog. Not that it really matters at the end of the day, although Bis would fight to the end of her life to argue about the distinction.

The delicate organs sit on the table now, its host now almost completely hollowed out. Almost like clockwork, she picks each one up and places them into separate containers, transparent for all to see aside from the opaque labels. Intestines, kidneys and stomach are some of the few she just throws in without questioning. The blackened heart and destroyed lungs make her pause to think for a bit before she tosses them into their jars as well. It’s none of her business to deal with separating them. If she did that for all of their victims, it would take much longer to fill up the orders. That’s why they have a morgue filled with corpses that are slowly mummifying from the cold, and that’s why she deals with them as fast as she can in order of those killed less recently than others first.

Bis can almost see her breath as she breaths out, but she holds on for a while more as she starts to cut off the goods’ limbs. They’re brittle, but it makes them even easier to break off, and before she knows it, she’s managed to toss them into a bag before she finally runs up the stairs to the warm house.

It’s a welcome feeling of warmth, and Reina barely glances at her before holding out some drink towards her, which she accepts gratefully before sipping it.

——————————

It was by luck that there were people trekking a mountainous path.

It was with greater luck that she found a tour bus travelling up the same mountain.

Hanten grinned as she watched the bus fall off the cliff, crashing into the forest below. Not that she had much of a hand in it, apart from her breaking off the mountain and dropping it on them. There would be survivors, she guessed, but she figured she would give them a head start to run whilst she cleared up the bloody mess she had accidentally made. It really wasn’t her intention, but the way they had screamed once she twisted their companions head off really excited her that she couldn’t help but up the stakes and break off their legs from their bodies one by one.

Once that was taken care of, she flew down, landing behind a tree before emerging to the group of humans who had pulled themselves out of the crash site as she had expected. Her horns and tail were already out of sight, hidden away once she had suppressed her power, but once they started to notice her, her eyes darted around and she started counting.

“Hey! Girl! Oh god, you’re covered with blood! Are you alright?”

There had been five on the mountain, and she had gotten thirty during the night and the early morning. Now there was about ten to twelve, and there was bound to be more in the bus. All in all, this would have to be the last act the demon needed to put on for the day. She pretended to be light headed, and watched as the crowd made their way towards her and surrounded her, trying to help the ‘badly injured’ girl.

“It’s okay, we’ve got a first- first aid kit, and there’s an ambulance coming, so- so just hold on, kid.

Of course, they’d thought she was one of them. Once they couldn’t see any differences, there was no reason to suspect the blood covered girl was bloody for any other reason other than from the accident. What she was doing now was getting as many people as she could around her so that she didn’t have to waste too much energy. And at last, she heard a signal.

“Eh? There’s... there’s no injury? But... how?”

Everybody around them who heard went silent and moved closer to the paramedic and her, wondering what was going on. All the sitting ducks were coming closer to observe this strange miracle. Humans. Always so trusting and helpful in times of crises.

Hanten grinned.

With one swing of her arm, the sword she had summoned sliced through the crowd. They didn’t even get to scream before being swallowed by her shadow, leaving a large pool of blood behind. She dipped her finger into it before swiping it on her clothes. Now wasn’t a good time to get a snack, not when she had more important matters to attend to. No matter how tired she was. She had been at this for the whole day, with only sheer luck getting her through the quota required.

Looking back at the mess, she figured that it was a good thing that this place was quite secluded. It wouldn’t do for her to be discovered by unwanted parties, especially if she didn’t want to get nagged by Kurotsuno.

Speaking of Kurotsuno...

She looked up, trying to figure out how much time she had left before the meeting. The sun was already at the horizon, colouring the skies a bright orange, and a low grumble escaped her.

She really ought to have set an alarm.

The meeting was in the evening. In less than thirty minutes. If she was fast, she could make it back to the mansion in at best fifteen minutes. But since she still had to get the damned coffee, which no doubt had a long line waiting, probably twenty minutes if she rushed.

Hanten huffed. Forget the nagging, she was going to get scolded.

——————————

It was sort of boring having to repeatedly go through folder after folder.

Sort the folders. Read the folders’ content. Deal with said content. Attend to issues in the faction. Account for everything.

Kurotsuno huffed as she tried to think of how to formally address each of the more important letters. As much as it sounded like an easy job, it was anything but. Maintaining formalities and a low profile was much more difficult than even she would have expected. If they, they being her mostly, messed up at one part, it was difficult to guarantee that some of those opposing them wouldn’t take the opportunity to destroy them.

Regardless, the more she focused on her work, the faster time seemed to pass, which was a pleasant surprise when she looked up and noticed that it was already afternoon. Close to 6, even. Almost time for the meeting.

And she waited.

Slowly, the clock’s short hand pointed at 6 fully.

Kurotsuno clenched her fist. Where was that idiot? This wasn’t the first time that she was late. Did she not care about punctuality?

The clock ticked on, and she sighed before she pulled out her phone. No point in stressing over such a trivial thing. Sure, Hanten was always late for these events. Slacking off no doubt, but she would always make it back in the nick of time. That was at least something, if not the only thing, that was almost guaranteed.

But she was so giving her a piece of mind once they came back from this meeting—

The door creaked as it swung open.

“Coffee’s here.”

Kurotsuno looked up from her phone as her second in command brushed past her to place the iced drink on the table, looking worse for wear. Her clothes were entirely stained with blood, not to mention how disheveled she looked after having been out for most of the day.

And she came back just ten minutes before the arranged meeting time.

“You’re late. Very. Late.”

“Are you going to say something else?”

“...just hurry up and change. I’ll settle this issue with you later.”

Plus she stank of sweat. Disgusting. If she was anyone other than her right hand, she would have stabbed them for just daring to enter her study in such a state. Instead, Kurotsuno sighed as she reached out into one of her drawers to pull out a towel along with a set of spare clothing and threw it, hitting Hanten square in the face as she noticed the projectile a little too late. She had planned for such an issue a while ago, storing some clothing to save time since there was nothing she could do that would force the demon before her to clean up faster anyway, so she might as well just calm down and wait——

The cup of iced drink looked drastically different from what she had been expecting. “You didn’t get my usual order? What’s this?”

She received a glare which disappeared once Hanten pulled off her shirt, to which Kurotsuno responded by turning away. “I was in a rush. It’s just a regular mocha. Extra sweet.”

That made sense, and she poked the second bag that had been next to her drink. It looked like cans, four in total, though she couldn’t quite make out what sort of contents they held. “And what’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“The bag next to the the coffee. What are those cans?”

A pause. “Energy drinks.”

“Four cans?”

“Watch me.”

“Are you that tire—“

The cans clinked against each other before she heard a hiss, and Kurotsuno took that as the signal that she could look back. As she had expected, Hanten was now chugging one of said energy drinks, looking much more presentable in a suit compared to the sweat drenched shirt she had been wearing previously that was now on the floor.

Kurotsuno sighed before reaching out to pull Hanten along.

“Let’s go, you oaf.”

“Mmm-Ack!”

Now that they were ready, she stepped out of the study, drink in one hand and Hanten’s tie in the other, leading her right hand out of the room to go for the meeting thankfully not too far away. They would be late, but at least it wouldn’t be too late as she had been expecting.

Then her phone buzzed.

A message from Reina who was accounting for their stock.

“Also, you’re four short. Work on it later.”

A loud indignant cry followed.

Such was a day of work in their faction.

#obsolete dream #kurotsuno #hanten (mogeko)#met (mogeko)#bis (obsolete dream)#reina (obsolete dream)#Mafia AU #mogeko

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vampbait-a · 7 years ago

Text

|| Cemetery Roses - Ch. 8

|| co-written with @cynaram Posted with permission. Previous: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

In Which Lessons Are Learned And Tea Is Had

Horst opened his eyes in the dark enclosure of his coffin. He noted the sounds of the house: the ticking of the clock in the hall above, the sound of a human heart.

So he is alive, Horst thought as he rose to dress.

Horst’s pocket square smote at Johannes’ sensibilities, as usual. This time he kept his feelings to himself; he was going to need Horst’s help, and for once, he wasn’t sure what Horst would say. He buttered toast and greeted his brother. “Good evening.”

"Is it?" Horst paused to regard his brother. There was an additional adjective in the greeting, and Horst had learned long ago that the younger Cabal's good moods were suspect.

"I'm glad to see you're alive and still mostly human. I was beginning to think you'd eloped with that vampire girl."

Cabal contained his urge to correct Horst’s understanding of the species Llamiae as opposed to the genus Vampire. “I have seen her, yes. She is going to assist my work.” He wondered if he should lie and say that Laurelai had enquired after Horst, but any advantage gained by that fiction would not survive their next meeting.

"Assist in your work? That does sound personal. What are you up to?" Horst's misgivings about his brother's activities deepened. "What happened while you were away?"

“It was eventful. And it has become personal,” Cabal said with grim understatement. He narrated recent events: the possession, the murderous gardener, the bizarre empathic experience. He tried to distil it down to the most relevant and appealing points. He didn't often talk to Horst about his work.

“Mademoiselle Laurelai is able to channel her ghost. Berenice’s ghost.” He had to say her name. Clarity was important. “I have spoken with her twice.” He heard himself say it, and his speech slowed. “I have spoken with her, Horst. I could not be deceived.”

As much as Horst often did not like his younger sibling's work, he was intrigued. Hearing what had happened caused him alarm and curiosity. What sort of relationship was his younger brother building with this mysterious Laurelai?

Horst was silent for a moment, weighing what he had been told against what he knew of his brother. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop, considering.

"When you spoke with her," Horst began, choosing his words carefully; "Did she know where she was? Was she conscious, or was it like the soldier you told me about? The one you found in the station?"

Somewhere, there was a faint feeling of relief; he had expected Horst to condemn the situation, to insist he stop. "It was something like that at first. Toward the end she became more aware. She knew the body she was in was not her own. I believe she may become more aware with repeated contacts."

"I see." Horst looked thoughtfully into the fire, frowning. He saw so little of his brother these days, heard little of what he was doing in his work, and Horst had begun to worry that Johannes might never emerge from the lab.

That he might never heal.

Laurelai might be an odd person, but she had saved Johannes’ life. Horst sighed, looking back at his brother. That had to count for something, he hoped.

"And she can just… have ghosts in her head without ill effects? I saw one of those stage performances once, a séance. The actress was carried offstage." Horst looked seriously at his younger brother. "And what are you doing for her in return? I have the feeling that you aren't telling me everything."

Cabal smiled thinly. “For one thing, she wants clothing to replace those leather things. I will acquire something. Unless you want to help?” He felt a rising of his hopes; maybe this could be Horst’s problem, not his?

"Oh, no, you go right ahead. Enjoy the experience." Horst straightened, looking at Johannes with barely contained mirth at the idea. He covered his mouth with one hand, suppressing a giggle at the idea of Johannes muddling through a Ladies’ catalogue.

Fine. He would leave some sensible catalogues around and wait for Horst to break, as he inevitably would when it came to fashion. “Also, she will be coming here for lessons in reading and in passing among humans. It is my responsibility, but she would benefit from your guidance.”

"Wait what's that?" all traces of mirth vanished, and Horst sat up straight. "Me? A mentor? To her?"

Cabal tilted his head. “She knows nothing of humans, obviously, and I think she is the only one of her kind. She is completely isolated. She could be no more than an animal if she wanted, yet I saw her feed three times, and she left the men alive.” Cabal never said it; he rarely thought it, but he was proud of his brother. “She could be like you, to a degree.” He picked up the marmalade jar and inspected the marks in the glass. “I can teach her to read; she is intelligent, and I think she can apply herself. I can teach her to attract less attention among humans. I cannot teach her not to be a monster.” He looked up at Horst, his eyebrows raised. “Think of it as a public service for the pub-going population.”

Horst had misgivings, but thought it best to let Johannes give his explanation. Horst heard so few of them. He was surprised more by what he saw in Johannes' expression and heard in his voice then he was by anything else.

Slowly, Horst smiled. Johannes liked Laurelai, though how much was uncertain. He did not bother to bring up the fact that making Laurelai more like him would actually be doing her a great disservice, as she appeared to be mostly-alive. He envied her that, and wondered about it. Thoughts for another time.

"You're curious about her. Was this tutoring her suggestion, or yours?" Horst asked, arching a brow. "Do you… do you perform experiments together? Is she your laboratory assistant?"

Though he was gently teasing, Horst hoped the answer was yes.

Cabal felt that Horst had missed the point. “She is a psychic medium. I am not going to have her washing test tubes. No, she will attempt to channel Berenice’s spirit. It is a rare talent. Literacy is not, but few tutors would tolerate her supernumerary fangs. I am curious about her subspecies as it contrasts with yours. Over the next few weeks, I will ask her to provide some blood and saliva samples for comparison.” Cabal’s expression was bland; he hadn’t caught the innuendo.

"So your answer is yes, then." Horst had sobered, but still felt that it would be wrong to discourage Johannes. There were so few things that could excite his younger sibling, it seemed. It was nice to see him talking again. Socializing.

"Alright, I'll play nice when she comes to call." Horst stood up again, intending to make the long-avoided trip to town. He turned to leave, then paused- a thought occurring to him.

"Do you think she might be able to help you, in my case?" He asked, trying to seem casual. "She is alive, you know. I've been thinking about that, and while I won't interfere with this... thing you're proposing now..." Horst sighed. "You won't hurt her."

It wasn't a question.

Cabal did not reply. How could Horst expect anyone to promise that?

Instead, he answered the earlier question. “It is my hope studying her half-vampiric condition may cast light on yours. She still lives on blood, cannot eat, must flee the sun. But all data is good data.” Cabal squeezed a lemon slice with an air of frustration. There was never enough time. What of his experiments with the gas? What of Horst? What of Bea’s spirit, flickering in and out? The weight of it pressed upon him. He drank his tea and blotted out the thoughts. One thing at a time, in order.

“I will consider her clothing today. Perhaps I will find something in the village.”

Horst stared hard at his little brother. He knew that trying to extract reassurance would glean nominal reward at best: Johannes was a scientist. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Do you know her size?" Horst experienced a sudden urge to look at Ladies’ fashion catalogues, his eyes glazing momentarily. Then he remembered his shredded waistcoat, and the feeling fled. "Helena has a dress shop in town, she's very good. I'm sure you'll find something lovely."

Oh. Was that who owned the dress shop? Cabal recalled an incident with an escaped laboratory failure that had nested in her yardage. He removed the village from the list of possibilities.

“I do not have her size, but….” He could measure the Llamia. He imagined himself doing so. On the other hand, he could buy everything in three sizes. Problem solved. “I will handle everything. She will arrive after sundown on Friday.”

"Friday?" Horst made a face; he had plans for Friday. "Can't you do it on Monday or a Thursday? Why Friday?" He sighed, remembering who he was talking to. "Alright, I'll chaperone your playdate. But next week either choose a different day or call Zee to help you."

Cabal had prepared himself for Laurelai’s first reading lesson. He had acquired materials, which he set out upon the library desk. He had even decided to wear his cardigan instead of his jacket, as it seemed vaguely in keeping with the role of tutor, and besides, he had a chill.

Horst had busied himself in the kitchen upon waking, having put off his trip to town for a night. He had chosen to bake - anything to keep him nice and occupied and away from his brother's guest.

Shortly after eight, Laurelai arrived carrying a small rose bush in a broken pot. After scattering the garden pixies with a growl and flash of fang, she crouched beside the herbaceous border. Discarding the broken crockery among the stones, Laurelai planted the black-velvet flowers in the soft earth bordering the wall. Smiling with satisfaction, she stood, dusted her hands on her bottom and knocked on the door.

“Good evening, mademoiselle. Please, come in.” At this point, a courteous host should offer to take his guest’s coat and hat, but Laurelai travelled without either, so that part of the implicit lesson was abandoned. She didn’t even appear to own shoes. “You appear to be in good health.”

"Bonne nuit, mon ami." Laurelai had bathed and cleaned and repaired her clothing as best as she could. Normally wild curls hung in smooth ebon waves; combed back over her shoulders and still damp. She smiled pleasantly and nodded, gesturing behind her. "I brought you this, for your garden."

The black roses shouldn’t have been visible in the moonlight, but they were, as if there was a sullen sheen to the plant. “Thank you. It is an attractive plant,” he admitted. “I hope it will survive. The conditions are unforgiving.”

Laurelai wiped her bare feet on the mat and stepped inside. "They like the climate, and acidic soil suits them, unlike your unfortunate Carsons." She had identified the blossomless bramble that housed the pixies and had begun to formulate a strategy for reaching an understanding with the creatures, or exterminate them as blight. Garden infestations aside, her expression was warm in reply to Cabal's gratitude.

“I am pleased that you like them. Your home is very bright. Are you very blind when it is dark? Why do you have dark glasses in your bag, if you like light?" The gas lamps were harsh, and she blinked and squinted in discomfort, unaccustomed.

“This is not as bright as daylight. I do not often wear the glasses indoors or at night. Though my night vision is good by human standards, it is nonexistent by yours. Follow me.” Cabal led her to the library, bypassing the odor of vanilla and a rustle of parchment paper coming from the kitchen. There, her directed Laurelai to the desk and its paper, pencils, and colorful alphabet book.

"Oui, I am often surprised that humans go outside at night. You act like you are invincible; it is almost sad." Laurelai's tone was conversational, even sympathetic of his mortal limitations. How fragile her fearless human friend was! She admired his salt, and his posterior, as she followed him through the house.

Cabal was perplexed by being cast in the role of the brave but vulnerable individual who gallantly transcended his weakness. Of course, everything supernatural was stronger and faster and more fatally toothed, but… he was certain there was a flaw in her reasoning somewhere.

The library was not as brightly lit, and Laurelai paused in the door to examine a sconce. "How do you make them work? Where is the flame?" Without waiting for an answer, she perused the room. Pausing to look at a framed picture, hands clasped behind her back to prevent curious exploring. It was difficult not to touch such amazing things, and she forgot herself several times despite her best efforts.

“Why will you not call me Laurelai?”

He took a moment to compose his answer. “With the exception of Horst, I address people formally.” Was this coming back to flocks and him being welcome in her nest?

"I shared my bed with you, Johannes," Laurelai's lower lip threatened to pout. "You saved my life, and still you doubt me."

There was a loud clang from the kitchen at the word “bed.” He might have to address that misconception later. “And you, mademoiselle, accuse me of doubting you when I refuse intimacies. I will not be bullied, but it does not mean I expect you to attack me.”

"Bullied?" Laurelai turned away from the shelves, frowning in dismay. She did not understand why the idea of familiarity upset him- she had made no advances, despite her natural playfulness and desires. Had she misspoken?

"I have not made myself clear. Forgive me, I do not know how to make you understand, cherè." Laurelai sat down in the chair before the desk, and folded her hands in her lap with a sigh. The intricacies of human socialization escaped her experience, and she had little choice but to concede to his greater wisdom. Even more frustrating was her limited grasp of English; too many nuances lost in translation.

"It does not matter. Call me as you like." Laurelai gazed off at the hearth, her expression unreadable.

"May I ask why Monsieur Horst is a vampire, while you are not?"

Cabal gave the books and paper a longing glance. She was prepared to discuss anything awkward and painful, it seemed. “In a minute.” He disliked the paranoid feeling that she had agendas and wishes in this partnership he did not understand, however harmless they were.

“Mademoiselle Laurelai, try to make me understand what you want from me and why. With reference, if you please, to the significance of given names and llamia nests, as well as any other subjects you find relevant. And what, if you please, is a flock?”

Laurelai's lower lip quirked irksomely, and she looked down at her hands. He was quick to demand answers of her, and yet many of her simple queries went ignored. Not for the first time, she considered shaking him violently.

Instead, she took a deep breath and examined her fingernails for traces of blood or dirt.

"When we met in your garden, we became friends, no? I returned your silver, and we played a game. This is known." she looked up at him evenly, spreading her hands as she presented the facts. "I respect that you do not want my kiss, and those other rules you made. I have not betrayed the things you confide in me, nor would I wish to pry in affairs that are not my own."

"But then that man tried to kill us. I do not like to remember that." she lowered her voice; her tone earnest. "I was afraid for you. You did not have to fight for me. What am I to you? Nothing."

Here, her hand pressed over the sliced leather at her ribs- the wound healed but present in memory. Laurelai looked up at Cabal, frowning. "I do not know the word for it. But I treat you as one of my own, and you address me as a stranger. It is offensive, to me."

Cabal’s eyes unfocussed as he made mental notes. “So by ‘flock’ you meant you were considering me ‘one of your own.’” He was unashamed when thinking it through as an abstract concept. “And a flock shares the nest? So by rejecting the nest I was implicitly rejecting your offer of kinship status?”

"Oui. After a fashion." Laurelai's lashes lowered and rose in catlike agreement, and she lounged back in the deep leather chair. Her lower lip threatened a pout. "I treat you as an equal. You treat me as a stranger. Is that not doubt?"

Cabal was silent. He knew she would wait for his answer, and he needed time to express it. “I brought this house here more than ten years ago, stick and stone.”

“In that time, four people have been allowed to enter. The police sergeant from the village, Horst, one other, and yourself. Alone of that group, I have invited you into my home, into my work, and, briefly, into my mind. It does not seem to me like I am treating you as a stranger, however I address you or wherever I sleep. I regret that this bruises your sensibilities, but you must not ask more of me.”

Laurelai's brow lifted as Cabal explained his point of view, her expression open. She nodded when he was finished, collecting her thoughts. Perspective gained, the perceived insult eased.

"I am not easily bruised, cherè." Laurelai smiled a little and laughed as her posture relaxed, and combed a hand back through her hair. "I am glad you told me this, it is much different from what I was thinking. Call me as you like, I do not mind so much."

Cabal nodded, unexpectedly relieved. “Shall we continue to your first reading lesson?”

"Oui, I would like that." Laurelai's eyes brightened, and she sat more upright, the arch of her torso causing the slashed side of her leather vest to gape. Pale ribs showed beneath, unmarked.

Clothing next week, Cabal thought. "Are you familiar with the letters of the alphabet?" He had bought the book he thought would appeal most to Laurelai. It had colour illustrations and touches of gilding.

"No, but I know my name. It is how I found my cemetery." Laurelai smiled a little and tugged the edge of her vest down as she moved to the edge of her seat.

"This is - hm. An English book. It might have been easier to start with French, but there are advantages to starting with the most untidy and irrational language, and besides, it is where you live."

"Oh, it is pretty!" Laurelai was enticed by the illustrations, and she leaned close to look over Cabal's shoulder. He opened the book so she could see it and started to read.

“A is for….?”

“Une pomme- ah- apple?” Laurelai liked this game. “Brioche! No, bread!”

Cabal soon realized that some of the examples were more familiar to her than others.

"Carousel.. I like those."

Cabal pictured Laurelai on a carousel, surrounded by children and their parents and suppressed a smile. “D is for duck. E is for elephant.”

"Fleur?" Laurelai touched the next page, recognizing the illusion and drawing a conclusion. Her fingers traced the F, and she lingered on the page, tracing each letter. She moved on to the next page, frowning at the illustrated greengrocer. The rows of vegetables and smiling family meant nothing to her.

"What is that?"

“A greengrocer’s. They sell fruits and vegetables.”

There were these odd lacunae in her memory, he thought. Things she must once have known that she had forgotten. Vampires rarely experienced a loss of memory with the change, though the memories were often incomprehensible to them as they lost the ability to feel love or loyalty. Laurelai’s psychology seemed human, if foreign.

He continued reading, pausing to allow her to make the connection between the shape of the letter, the sound, and the example given.

"The sounds are different, in here." Laurelai tapped the side of her head with her index finger, looking puzzled as she took the alphabet book into her lap. She flipped backwards through the pages, sounding soft consonants under her breath as she sought examples on each page.

She seemed to forget that Cabal was present.

“Are they?” Cabal was bemused for a moment. “What sounds do they make in your head?”

She didn't answer at first, quietly repeating the sounds under her breath. Puzzled, she sat back and shook her head. "Different, it is like.. I do not know how to describe."

"Hullo Miss Laurelai," Horst smiled warmly from the doorway, carrying a tray of Assam tea and freshly baked currant scones. He nodded to Johannes, and placed the tray on the edge of the desk. "Thought you might like to have a little snack while you work."

Cabal gave his brother a narrow look. “Miss Laurelai does not eat… scones. As you well know. Is this purely for my benefit? How kind. How completely unmotivated by anything but brotherly affection. How unsuspicious.”

Laurelai had fallen quiet as Horst had entered, watching him warily. She held her book closed upon her lap, lavender eyes flicking from one brother to the other. She neither acknowledged the greeting, nor replied, watchful.

Horst was unaffected by his younger brother's vitriol. He smiled pleasantly and nodded, looking at Laurelai. Seeing that she did not smile back, his confidence wavered; an unfamiliar feeling.

"I wanted to say hello, and knowing that you're not likely to feed yourself without a reminder, I thought I'd do something nice. People do nice things for each other all the time, did you know that? Funny old world." Horst winked at Laurelai, hoping she would enjoy his humor.

She did not, and gazed balefully back before looking at Johannes. "It is me he is curious about. Vampires always are."

“I have never known Horst to be overburdened with curiosity.” Cabal was beginning to get the feeling that Laurelai actively disliked his brother. Was it some natural antipathy of species? “We were working, Horst. But… did you bring lemon?”

"Well, I might be a tiny bit curious, but only because I'd like to get to know you." Horst smiled at Laurelai. He felt that he was on unsteady ground with her and wanted to fix whatever social misstep he had made. "I like to get to know my little brother's lady friends."

Laurelai did not respond, but looked vaguely uncomfortable. She nodded, and looked down at her book.

"Lemon? Oh, back in a mo'," Horst had never felt so awkward, and his smile felt like a mask as he returned to the kitchen.

“He always forgets the lemon.” Cabal straightened the papers. “You are under no obligation to socialize with Horst. Although. People do generally want to.”

Laurelai watched Cabal, silent for a moment as she considered whether or not to reply. After all, he had not asked for an explanation.

"I have not had good experiences, in the past." she confided, looking back down at the elaborately drawn ‘T’ upon the page. She did not like anything that made her feel weak, which Horst most certainly had at their first meeting. She traced the gilded illustration with a finger.

"Why does this page show a Horn, and yet the letter is not that sound?" Laurelai attempted to change the subject.

Cabal disliked straying from the task at hand, but she had piqued his curiosity. "You have been mistreated by other vampires?"

Laurelai's gaze turned inward, her shoulders slouching slightly. She was silent a moment longer- her thoughts faraway.

"Oui."

"How did they... that is, in what way...." The cross-examination forming in Cabal's mind came to a jerking halt as he took in her bowed shoulders. "That is...." There would be a better time, he told himself, to learn about vampire-llamia relations. "A trumpet. That is a trumpet, a type of horn."

"For sex, or blood. Sometimes for sport- how should I know?" Laurelai's gaze remained unblinking, fixed upon Cabal's. His answer to her question was either disregarded or assimilated- it was impossible to know.

She tilted her head, apparently waiting.

After a moment, Cabal nodded. "Then naturally you are wary." He tried to stop there, but could not. "Horst is a good man. You are safe here. And if he could not protect you," Cabal had a feeling this sentence was getting away from him, but there was no way to divert it now, "then I would. Under the terms of our agreement. Now, the letter 'U.'"

Laurelai's expression turned querulous for a moment- confusion and surprise mingling. His vow was heartfelt. She could not recall another instance where she felt such camaraderie.

Standing in one fluid movement- book toppling to the floor- Laurelai cupped Cabal's face and kissed his forehead. Then she sat down with a happy coo and retrieved the book from where it had fallen.

Cabal wasn’t sure she saw the severe look that rewarded the kiss; it was not one of his best efforts. He had cobbled it together hastily from a confused expression, and it came from a desire to remind her of the rules, not from genuine ire. “Mademoiselle,” But her gesture had not felt threatening. Inexplicably, she was happy again. It struck Cabal that she was like Horst in that way; nothing clouded her temperament for long. It baffled him. “May we return to work?”

"Oui." Laurelai favored the scientist with a fond, fanged smile- tinted with a hint of mischief. Legs folded beneath her, she perched on the edge of Cabal's desk and peered at the book.

"Umber-alla?" she blinked, frowning. "Parasol?"

"Indeed. But waterproof."

The next few letters passed without incident. Cabal sipped his tea as they arrived at the final page. "Are you familiar with this animal?"

No sooner than had Laurelai turned the page, the book went flying--

--the Llamia hissing down at the offending illustration from atop the bookshelves.

"Zebra."

Unperturbed, Cabal placed his cup back in the saucer. "Indeed. An impractical and unpleasant animal. That concludes today's lesson. I will not detain you with such simple material next time.” She had been able to read once, he suspected; she was already sounding out words. “You may take this book with you, if you wish." He withdrew his notebook.

"I need to hold our next lesson a day or two late. I find I have a commitment. Is that acceptable?" He glanced up.

Satisfied that the illustrated embodiment of nightmares would not gallop off the page and harm her, Laurelai lowered herself to the floor. She lifted the book and folded it closed, considering Cabal's proposal. She placed the book atop his desk.

"One night? Or two?" she asked in return. "I must have care for my roses. It grows colder."

He shrugged. "I should return by daylight on the Saturday, and I will be rested by that evening. We may meet then, or a later day."

Laurelai's expression became thoughtful as first she had to recall what day it was- counting on her fingers. She nodded solemnly, rocking from heel to toe as an idea bloomed.

"I could go with you? I could protect you, or be helpful in some other way? And my lesson would be to travel. As a human woman."

Cabal did not dismiss the idea out of hand. He believed in the value of applied learning. "The idea has merit, and were I tutoring you in theft from mid-range British museums, I might require you to accompany me. But you wish to learn to pass among humans." Her acrobatic skills might be very useful, he thought.

Laurelai nodded, and, in an effort to persuade him, she smiled, clasped her hands politely before herself and subtly batted her eyelashes. "I have no need to learn how to break into the museum, cherè, I go there quite often. I like the ghosts." She smiled, her tone softly pleading.

"If I promise to wear a dress, and speak only French, could I not also provide you with security of alibi?" She had heard the term over the wireless, and found it intriguing. What games humans played!

Cabal’s eyes narrowed as he considered the advantages and disadvantages of her offer. He had planned to go in while the museum was closed and smash a case open with a hammer. If he was interrupted, no number of be-gowned Frenchwomen would provide a sufficient alibi, although a llamia might be of some use. He might be able to accommodate her wishes while gaining her help. Laurelai was a habituée of the building; at least she would not slow him down.

“Perhaps. You might accompany me to the town,” it was unnecessary for the theft but would be good practice for her, “and assist me during the acquisition. After, I would return here alone.”

"You mean I would not have to stay and watch you growl at your notebook?" This was a bonus to the plan, which would also allow the time she needed to acquire certain chemicals she needed for her roses. Perhaps she might practice her new skills in a tavern or two. "Oui, this is acceptable."

Cabal was confused. Growl at his notebook? Possibly her English was faulty. "Very well, then." This was an excellent development: an efficient use of both their time, and advantageous to them both. There was no reason to feel any misgivings.

Laurelai smiled at Cabal's agreement, a gesture that complimented her features and showed off deadly dentition.

"Oui, bon. I will arrive at the customary time." She paused, a thought occurring. "You may tell your brother I will need a dress, hm?"

#cynaram #|| Cemetery Roses #v: Cemetery Roses #|| save tag #|| Drabble

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naturalstoneandtile · 6 years ago

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After watching waaaay too many YouTube videos by MT and others I’m fairly certain this Easter egg has been overlooked. And it’s a doozy. Have a seat as this takes while to break down.

Overview: James Gunn buried tons of Easter Eggs in both films, the Temple on Morag murals, 5 Elements, Celestials, Kronos not Eternity, the Eternals and more.

The movie gives us the clues with two in-your-facehints. The first time we see Starlord in on Morag. He’s come to this planet which has destroyed for an unknown reason and this part of it is typically underwater. More here. The temple murals are literally everywhere; the floor, ceiling and walls. We see them again later with the Collector.

No Merchandising. Editorial Use Only. No Book Cover Usage. Mandatory Credit: Photo by Marvel Studios/Kobal/REX/Shutterstock (5886233bi) Chris Pratt Guardians Of The Galaxy – 2014 Director: James Gunn Marvel Studios USA Scene Still Les Gardiens de la Galaxie

Let’s break down the clues within the Mural.

The Temple of Morag mural as seen in the movie.

First: what Marvel says about it is vague. The Art of the Guardians of the Galaxy book names the marvel Gods depicted (clockwise from upper left): Death, Entropy, Infinity and Eternity. In the center are the Inifinity Stones. That’s the easy stuff.

What caught my attention was the 4 classical elements (Greek philosophy is a hobby) around each God. We see Earth (lower right – Infinity), Air (upper right – Entropy), Fire (upper left – Death) and Water (lower left). There is a crazy amount of detail in the mural which is why I think there’s something deeper to it.

The temple mural as concept art from The Art of the Guardians of the Galaxy book.

After researching the 4 classical elements I noticed the Fifth element, Aether, dead center and impossible to miss. More here. per Wiki: “According to ancient and medieval science, aether (Ancient Greek: αἰθήρ, aither[1]), also spelled æther or ether and also called quintessence, is the material that fills the region of the universe above the terrestrial sphere.”

“Medieval concept of the cosmos. The innermost spheres are the terrestrial spheres, while the outer are made of aether and contain the celestial bodies”

In layman terms, the Aether rings depict levels of celestials spheres beginning with the Earth (first ring), moon (Luna), Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and into the Heavens of multiple levels. Close inspection the mural shows Entropy pointing at the ring for the Moon and Infinity pointing at Saturn. A moon of Saturn is Titan which is where the Eternals end up. They are literally pointing the way.

Mind melting yet? We’re just getting started.

The Lower Heaven is where we find our four clearly noticeable Gods doing whatever. Back to the Celestial Spheres. Celestials are upper Gods in the Marvel universe who use Infinity Stones. James Gunn planted a couple Celestial references within the movie. The first, and most obvious, showing a Celestial razing a planet. The second being a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it name of a bar in Knowhere called the Boot of Jemiah. Of course, Knowhere itself is a severed Celestial head.

Celestials from the comics.

Eson the Searcher seen in the movie wielding the Power stone.

The name of the bar is the Boot of Jemiah.

Jemiah the Analyzer is a major Celestial throughout the comics and is seen in the comic pic above. He’s really green and has distinct eyes, as do most Celestials.

I believe it’s the Boot of Jemiah (who may or not be the dead Celestial of Knowhere) pointing us towards the mural. Look again at the top of the mural and at Jemiah’s eyes. He’s looking right at us overseeing the other Gods. Same green eyes. The eye pattern isn’t on the other three sides of the mural. What’s maybe of interest is he’s not shown in the mural concept art.

Wrapping around the perimeter of the mural is a serpent. The tail is to Infinity’s left and the head is behind her. It’s probably Jormungandr from Thor comics. From Wikipedia: “In Norse mythology, Jörmungandr, also known as the Midgard (World) Serpent, is a sea serpent, the middle child of the giantess Angrboða and Loki. According to the Prose Edda, Odin took Loki’s three children by Angrboða—the wolf Fenrir, Hel, and Jörmungandr—and tossed Jörmungandr into the great ocean that encircles Midgard. The serpent grew so large that it was able to surround the earth and grasp its own tail. As a result, it received the name of the Midgard Serpent or World Serpent. When it releases its tail, Ragnarök will begin. Jörmungandr’s arch-enemy is the thunder-god, Thor.”

I haven’t yet deduced the serpents’ purpose on the mural. If you know or have a theory, please leave a comment.

Moving on to the Lower Gods. At first it looks like they’re either creating the Infinity stones, as the Marvel Art of book states, or fighting over them. Either way, something is going down. What are they doing and why is Eternity falling backwards. I believe the Art of GOTG book has mis-directed us with Eternity as it doesn’t look anything like him. In the mural concept art it looks exactly like Kronos.

He’s bald and even has the star on his right shoulder in the correct place. I think it’s fairly obvious this was originally conceived as Kronos and not Eternity. Also note how the other three Gods are on the outside of the big ring while Kronos seems to be moving from the inner to the outer ring depicting his rise from mortal to God status.

From marvel.fandom.com: “Kronos and his brother Uranos were of the ruling class of Eternals countless years ago. Uranos craved battle and conquest, and war broke out between the Eternals who followed Uranos and those who sought peace, led by Kronos. When Uranos was defeated, he and his followers were exiled into space and Kronos became sole ruler of the Eternals of Earth.

Kronos was working in his laboratory in the Earth Eternals’ city of Titanos on an experiment with cosmic energy when he accidentally caused an explosion that destroyed Titanos and Kronos’ physical body. However his mind survived and became one with the universe and time.”

Who are the Eternals?

Wikipedia: “The Eternals are a fictional species of humanity appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. They are described as an offshoot of the evolutionary process that created sentient life on Earth. The original instigators of this process, the alien Celestials, intended the Eternals to be the defenders of Earth, which leads to the inevitability of war against their destructive counterparts, the Deviants. The Eternals were created by Jack Kirby and made their first appearance in The Eternals #1 (July 1976).”

Marvel has already stated an Eternals movie is on the short list. My guess is there’s already groundwork in previous movies as Easter eggs. There’s also tons of Kirby art references in GOTG and Thor Ragnarok.

The Collector displays (in this order) the Infinity stones, the Temple of Morag mural behind Quill, Eson the Celestial destroying a planet, the planet being destroyed and a group attempting to wield all 6 stones and being destroyed by them.

This HAS to be important. Ancient cultures used murals to tell stories. Assuming there’s a story within this mural I believe this is it but the Collectors’ scenes are out of order.

Here’s how the story goes.:

Under the watchful eye of the Celestial, Gods played with the stones resulting in one being cast out (Kronos). Death came for our planet and destroyed it (as possibly seen in the mural by Death using a star as a weapon). Some left for (or were already at) a moon around Saturn (Titan).

Let’s revisit the Collectors’ scenes in a different order following the mural story:

Attempting the wield all 6 stones they are destroyed.

A God came to judge us.

Death followed and our planet was destroyed.

My Theory? Morag was home to some Eternals. Kronos, an Eternal, led a team of scientists to use the stones together and were subsequently destroyed, just like in the comics. Kronos was accidentally transformed into a God of time, just like in the comics. The Celestials were not happy at the Eternals, whom they had created, and dispatched Eson to judge them, which he did. The planet was razed using the power stone but the temple and other ruins remain. The power stone has since been kept inside the temple.

There are Eternals currently on another planet. In the comics there are sleeper Eternals on Earth as well as a buried Celestial. Marvel is clearly embracing the cosmic universe and have already shown us Celestials, referenced Eternity in GOTG2 and have announced a Eternals movie is coming.

I’m surly forgetting more as I did all this research last year and it just sat.

Dangling Chads:

In the mural, what is Kronos holding? A dagger or shard of something?

Infinity has a spear and the Eternal Athena uses a identical one in the comics. Is this suppose to be Athena and not Infinity? Then would Entropy’s character be an Eternal as well, Kronos’ brother perhaps?

The serpent’s purpose?

Did the Eternals make the murals prior to being destroyed by the Celestial? Probably.

Guardians of the Galaxy final Easter egg found? Temple of Morag Mural depicts Kronos, Eternals and more After watching waaaay too many YouTube videos by MT and others I'm fairly certain this Easter egg has been overlooked. 1,597 more words

#easter egg #eternals #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #james gunn #kronos #MCU #temple of morag

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juliangbc-blog · 8 years ago

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Sensory - Blog 3...

Homo sapiens (Latin: "wise man") is the binomial nomenclature (also known as the scientific name) for the only extant human species. Homo is the human genus, which also includes Neanderthals and many other extinct species of hominin; H. sapiens is the only surviving species of the genus Homo. Modern humans are the subspecies Homo sapiens sapiens, which differentiates them from what has been argued to be their direct ancestor, Homo sapiens idaltu. The ingenuity and adaptability of Homo sapiens has led to it becoming the most influential species on Earth; it is currently deemed of least concern on the Red List of endangered species by the International Union for Conservation of Nature.

In a study published by Nature Communications, led by Markus Bastir and Antonio Rosas, of the Spanish Natural Science Museum (CSIC), high-tech medical imaging techniques were used to access internal structures of fossil human skulls. The researchers used sophisticated 3D methods to quantify the shape of the basal brain as reflected in the morphology of the skeletal cranial base. Their findings reveal that the human temporal lobes, involved in language, memory and social functions as, well as the olfactory bulbs are relatively larger in Homo sapiens than in Neanderthals. "The structures which receive olfactory input are approximately 12% larger in modern humans than in Neanderthals," the authors explain.

The above image illustrates which of our 5 common senses relate. Touch, Taste, Smell, Sight and Hearing.

This was an especially difficult Blog post to write for Chef Jean-Pierre Centeno for our Food Theory class at George Brown.

Having been professionally diagnosed via the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator - I am a true INTJ:

INTJ PERSONALITY (“THE ARCHITECT”)

It’s lonely at the top, and being one of the rarest and most strategically capable personality types, INTJs know this all too well. INTJs form just two percent of the population, and women of this personality type are especially rare, forming just 0.8% of the population – it is often a challenge for them to find like-minded individuals who are able to keep up with their relentless intellectualism and chess-like manoeuvring. People with the INTJ personality type are imaginative yet decisive, ambitious yet private, amazingly curious, but they do not squander their energy.

“Nothing Can Stop the Right Attitude From Achieving Its Goal”

With a natural thirst for knowledge that shows itself early in life, INTJs are often given the title of “bookworm” as children. While this may be intended as an insult by their peers, they more than likely identify with it and are even proud of it, greatly enjoying their broad and deep body of knowledge. INTJs enjoy sharing what they know as well, confident in their mastery of their chosen subjects, but owing to their Intuitive (N) and Judging (J) traits, they prefer to design and execute a brilliant plan within their field rather than share opinions on “uninteresting” distractions like gossip.

“You are not entitled to your opinion. You are entitled to your informed opinion. No one is entitled to be ignorant.”

Perhaps this is why the often crazy life in a professional kitchen always inspired me and was for most of my life, a home away from home.

I was continuously learning and even when I left the world of stainless steel and copper pots in 1999 to become an adjunct professor for 17 years at Ryerson Univerity and the University of Toronto - the ‘itch’ was still in my blood and I missed the organised chaos of a professional kitchen.

Dairy farmer, hospital orderly, barista with Second Cup, cosmetician for Clinique, flight attendant, cook, University Professor, cheese manager at Whole Foods Market and paralegal are some of the many and varied careers to whit I have been modestly successful at.

In November 2013 I was admitted to Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre emergency as I could not get out of bed, literally. I woke up that fateful Saturday morning without the ability to stand and my vision was also seriously compromised. This is why this is such a hard article to write - being private I do not like to engender sympathy. However, I called 911 and an ambulance with a team of paramedics was sent to my house. I then spent the next 17 hours in the Sunnybrook ER ward undergoing tests for everything from HIV, std’s, heavy metal poisoning diabetes and a complete neoplastic panel to test for cancer.

Unfortunately for myself, all tests were negative and after the 17 hours was over, the physician in attendance came to visit and told me that I was going to be released and could go home! As I have always been a person who can advocate for myself, at times quite vociferously - one learns how to stand up for oneself after one’s Headmaster breaks one’s jaw due to the inability to correctly conjugate the verb Amo in Latin...

[First Conjugation amo:I love amas: You love amat: He, She, or It loves amamus: We love amatis: You (plural) love amant: They love ] -

I said quite adamantly that I wanted a second opinion. Upon the medical opinion of the subsequent doctor (who apparently held a MD) - who was quite gobsmacked at my being sent home - as I couldn’t see, couldn’t stand, and had complete sensory loss in both my hands and legs - was admitted forthwith to Ward 3 where I was to spend 3 months undergoing a multitude of tests and becoming the fast favourite of the neurology department. Bed-ridden, but hated being a specimen.

Occam's razor teaches doctors to: “think ‘horses’, not zebras” when one hears hoofbeats.

I was certainly a zebra and it was not until the brilliant, (my opine), Dr Arun Sundaram, consulting neuro-ophthalmologist, diagnosed my condition as being an extremely rare form of demyelinating Acute Axonal Neuropathic Disorder - akin to Multiple Sclerosis - but a diagnosis of only 1 in 750,000 persons.

I certainly won the ‘disabilty lottery’ that day!

Residual effects were a loss of sensory perception in my hands and feet requiring a walking frame to ambulate - now thank G-D I can function with the use of my cane, but the most significant “sensory” loss was my vision. My official diagnosis was that I was twice (2x) the legal level for blindness. Further, cranial nerves, according to Sundaram, do not regenerate. It was officially permanent.

I read a very interesting article by a Dr Peterson who attempted to detail the levels of legal blindness in patients, and whom is recognised by the Canadian National Institute for the Blind (CNIB):

You Too Can Be Legally Blind for $5.99! Well, at least you can experience legal blindness for next to nothing. We’ll get to that in a minute.

The recent news of a legally blind man becoming governor of New York has the world rethinking the capabilities of the blind. To recap the media coverage, Lt. Gov. David A. Paterson took over the office of the morally-blind Eliot Spitzer. Governor Paterson, as reported by the New York Times, is totally blind in his left eye and legally blind in his right eye. He is reported to have 20/400 vision, which means he can barely see objects from 20 feet away what the average person can see 400 feet away.

All the media coverage is also dispelling myths regarding legal blindness. In this blog post, I want to do my professional duty to demystify and demonstrate legal blindness.

My vision is demonstrated in the last photo. Life s a blur!

If you’ve ever wanted to experience 20/400 vision just visit your local pharmacy. Find a pair of reading glasses labelled with a power of +6.00 and put them on (that’s the $5.99 part), or if you already wear vision correction, put them on over your current glasses or contacts. Now, look off in the distance. Instant 20/400 vision!

In no way do I wish to diminish the severity of blindness. The achievements of these individuals is astounding, especially in a world that is designed for those of us with 20/20 vision.

Thusly leading me to write this rather personal Blog posting dealing with the “senses” I have already had 2 of the 5 severely handicapped by a genetic fluke. However, it has in a way helped me to hone the remaining senses - taste, hearing and smell have become almost super-heightened in order to compensate.

Enough with the pity party already - now on to the Blog as required for Chef Centeno.

On to the sensory exploration of citrus!

Criterion:

Blog Assignment #3 - Sensory Evaluation (SUBMIT HERE)

In your next Culinary blog entry, choose a "new" food that you have never tasted before. Try to avoid overly processed junk foods, or something that is familiar to you. Perform a sensory evaluation using the criteria discussed in this weeks lesson. While evaluating your chosen food, think about the following:

How does this appeal to The five basic tastes - salty, sweet, sour, bitter and umame?

Use your sense of Taste, Smell, Sight, Hearing and Touch; what do you observe with each?

Are there relatable or similar flavours that you detect? "Tastes like....."

How is this food unique?

Try to avoid words such as "good", "nice" and "flavourful", be specific in your observations, using proper and precise terminology.

Reflect on your experience:

What did you learn about your palate?

Did you enjoy this food?

Would you eat it again? Why or why not?

Are there certain flavours you find more or less appealing?

How has this experience changed the way in which you will taste, analyse and use foods in your cooking?

Document your findings throughout, and post them to your blog. Invite someone to look at and share your experience. Feel free to make multiple blog entries of this nature, trying to experience new flavours as often as you can.

In order to complete this Blog assignment, I invited 3 friends over for a supper party on Friday Night. One was a former chef and protégé of mine and his fiancée. The third was a culinary student at George Brown.

Having trained in 1995/96 with Nick Nairn, the youngest Scottish Chef to be awarded 1 Michelin Star, http://www.nicknairncookschool.com/Recipes/Show-All/ for his restaurant “Braeval, Old Mill” in Aberfoyle, Stirling, Port of Monteith UK.

The signed frontispiece is from his first published book. He remains my friend and mentor to this day.

I was saying to my friend Eli on Friday night that I have had an interesting culinary career - one that Chef Tomaselli would call “Cowboy Cooking” I was taught how to get to the finished dish - the steps did not really matter as it was a sense of intuition and how the finished dish would be. However, one does not become a starred Michelin Chef if one does not know a thing or two - Nairn trained under the likes of Marco Pierre White and Alistair Little.

For the soup course: Chilled Pea & Mint with Shrimp Ceviche & Chilli Oil.

As Chef Centeno stipulates, as well as Chef Tomaselli & Chef Barone, the function of a soup is to ideally be vegetarian. It appeals to all tastes. Nairn does away with the stock component and instead taught us that one should use 25% onions of the weight of soup ingredients as well as a 1/4% butter... unsalted of course.

The onions add the missing umami taste from the stock and the butter adds richness.

Course 2. - Moroccan Poussin.

served with Pommes Gartin Dauphinoise, cauliflower puree, burnt onions, pickles and Jus.

I love asparagus season so I had to use some of the beautiful local produce in the dish.

Dessert: Glazed lemon-lime tart with a chocolate orange ganache and pistachio praline.

The pastry is essentially a shortbread as it is 50%butter and 50% flour with a dash of almonds and lemon zest marinated in rum. The curd is a basic one - it incorporates eggs, sugar, zest, juice and heavy cream and is left to sit for 3 days in the fridge to intensify the citrus flavour.

The “guessing game” was the theme that tied everything through the supper. Eli guessed it correctly - after a few hilarious anecdotes about Peru and Morocco.

Lime juice and lemon zest were used in the ceviche. The poussin was marinated in fresh orange juice and Moroccan spices, the tart was a citrus delight with a very bitter chocolate orange semi-fredo to add relief to the sourness. 70% dark chocolate with orange and grapefruit zest.

What I learned from this assignment was not to have guests over for dinner on a Friday night after a full week of Chef studies at George Brown.

What I have also learned from my amazing Chef-mentors at George Brown College are as follow:

Chef Centeno. Having to think critically and honestly about the finished dish. Does it fill the brief?

Chef Tomaselli: Be passionate and honest about cooking - as long as you have the love to do it, you will never be alone in the crazy world of Cuisine. I also admire his strict attention to detail - 100% agree that one has to show up for lectures in appropriate uniform. Chef jacket starched and ironed, black safety shoes - the day the lady showed up in stilettos and was sent packing was hilarious - who really comes to a kitchen to work in 5″ heels?

Chef Barone is stellar and I have learned so much about attention to detail and knife cuts from him. It would be easy to illustrate above as due to my vision loss that it is hard to see, but never let that be a barrier -I welcome the criticism and realise that my knife cuts need to be perfect as well as his teaching me to trust my seasoning!!!

Professor Sean Clapham - who actually holds a PhD and so can be called Professor is great with our Math for Hospitality course Extremely knowledgeable and patient with students in a very professional way - I am learning things. I am like a sponge

Lastly but not finally, Chef Joel Rousell; - In my humble opinion, he is probably the strictest, but also the most real. The food that we prepare in Cafe Production must be up to his exacting standards as it is to be sold in the Chef on the Run store. Exactly the same as food that would go out of a professional kitchen - I am learning many things from him - he has amazing recipes and an obviously great palate. So sorry if you do not like getting your head bitten off - but as all the talented Chefs at GBC say - this is honestly how it is in the real world. One puts 2 Tablespoons of white pepper in a dish - instead of two Teaspoons and the dish is instantly ruined. Fuck the ‘cinnamon challenge’ on YouTube - you try a dish with too much white pepper and you would reject it instantly.

Last, but not least I am actually quite in awe of Carla Diano in my Nutrition course. I feel I shall learn a lot from her! Especially as I wish to matriculate into the post-graduate Diploma in Nutrition Studies.

I realise my shortcomings and somewhat lazy knife skills, I try and correct them and I am very humbled to be taught by such talent that is employed at GBC.

So, to conclude my ‘sensory blog’ - I give you the verbatim response by Eli and his fiancee, Mijung:

Julian invited us to share dinner with him and to report on our experiences. Below are our reflections on the three-course meal that he prepared for us.

The first course was a soup, which was very creamy with herbal notes that complemented the 🍤. The soup was an interesting play on a ceviche recipe. The soup had all of the ingredients of ceviche but reimagined them in a way that was fun and refreshing. There was a hint of spice from chilies and also coolness from mint in the soup. This food was unique because it was made of very simple ingredients but achieved complex and clean flavours. I would make the soup again. It changed the way I think about how some ingredients are used such as peas (used as the base) which made for a very creamy and smooth texture.

The second course was Moroccan chicken that was roasted with a with a glaze similar to a

mole

. The chicken was roasted with orange and lemon inside which gave it also a clean flavour. The chicken also had a subtle curry flavour which was very pleasant. The chicken served with potatoes dauphinoise, onion petal, pureed cauliflower and assorted pickles which included asparagus. Each element of this meal was very well executed. The chicken was perfectly cooked without being dry. The potatoes were crispy on the outside, and also smooth inside. Our only criticism of this course was that the potato and the cauliflower were both very creamy and rich. We feel that one of them could be eliminated (if the next course was very light it might have complimented this very rich course). The pickle helped with the richness of the meal a great deal and was a very nice consideration of the chef to include these on the plate. Overall this was very delicious and was of a very high-quality. I would expect to have paid a lot of money for this meal or at least this course.

The dessert course was chocolate ice cream served with a lemon tart and raspberries. The plate was well presented and had an exciting flame / brule element to it. It was a very traditional and welcome element to conclude the meal. The ice cream was handmade and had a balanced flavor of chocolate and oranges. The lemon tart was creamy and also citrusy. The crust was flaky and was a good compliment to the creamy tart.

The theme of citrus on the menu was subtle but it was a creative way to make us think about what we were eating. Playing

'Guess the common theme'

was a fun and interesting way to focus us on the food.

Thanks so much Julian! We had a great time and had a wonderful meal!!!!

E + MJ

vimeo

In closing, it was also a great pleasure to chat briefly with Chef Higgins and to see Chef Alvares. I am totally going to explore my senses by taking the India and Thailand Program next year!!!

Funny how I am only barely passing in College English with a 60% - apparently my writing style is too controversial - I am here to study food, not to write “The Great Gatsby”.

Best,

Julian.

Written and submitted to Chef Jean-Pierre Centeno June 4th 2017

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childrenofathoria-rp-blog · 8 years ago

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◆Out Of Character Information◆

Name/Age: Admin Raven, 24 Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Timezone: EST Desired Character: Eris McKenna

◆Character Information◆ (1) What pronouns will your character be using? Would you like to list their sexuality at this time?:She/her - Bisexual (2) Any changes or comments? Nope! (3) Why this character?

I always wanted to play a witch! Our entire lore surrounding them and their connection to the Fae is so interesting. I miss playing a character with elemental powers and I’ve yet to play one with fire abilities. Eris is one of the few gifted humans around with ties to dark magic and, to be honest, I’m like feeding my demon muse through her a bit. Her presence in-game would be refreshing and since she’s not in a clan, she has a lot of autonomy. She’s very different from Nita and while they both have anger issues, Eris is a lot more unhinged. Not to mention that Eris would be one of the first characters that I play that isn’t a warrior. (4) Interpret this character:

I feel like power is something that drives Eris more than anything. She isn’t interested in ruling or leading, I think she seeks immortality or perhaps god-hood, even. She believes that witches are the superior species between all others, but the one thing that holds them back is their mortality. Eris doesn’t think it’s fair that they were born with such abilities, but can only use them to extend their lives, not preserve them. The sorceress despises the limits placed on gifted humans by the Guild and hopes to do away with them one day.

I suppose the sins she leans towards most is wrath and greed. I plan to play her anger as something that can begin as a slow simmer that evolves into wildfire when agitated. She has little patience with meek or rude people and demands respect without having earned it. If she feels that her pride is threatened, she will not hesitate to retaliate. Eris can be quite haughty in nature and loves playing the seducer; she has no trouble with using her sexuality for personal gain. Eris’ name means “strife” and she’ll surely lives up to that namesake.

As cliche as it sounds, I headcanon that Eris comes from a prominent line of fire mages, but her father had an affinity for water. When her magic bloomed, she took to water magic naturally despite her obsession with fire. Through practice and hard work, Eris became moderately skilled in the fire elemental area, but knew she lacked the proper connection to truly master it. This was one of the factors that drove her to make her bargain with Xaphan. Her affinity for water faded completely after the deal’s conclusion. I think it’s ironic that she basically cheated her way to achieve power and it’s likely one of her biggest secrets.

I consider Eris to be a bit of loner, someone who doesn’t truly have friends, but allies. She’s not a good person and I’d love to see her possibly build some meaningful connections. I imagine she’d have some animosity toward the Mighty Oak coven, I headcanon that her mother had ties with them, but wasn’t exactly a member. A personal endgame I have in mind for her is to meet her end at the Guild’s hands, perhaps with assistance from the Mighty Oak Coven.

When it comes to other species, I think she’s extremely curious about the Fae and the creature who sired her mother’s line. After a bit of research I learned that her surename McKenna(which is Irish) comes from the old Gaelic name “MacCionaodha” which meant “child of Aodh’s love”. Aodh was the name of a Celtic fae god of fire. So I’d like to take this piece of real life myth and give it an Athorian spin by including that Fae in her lineage and possibly future plots. While she may feel some sense of pride for gifted humans, she looks down on those who limit themselves. She gravitates toward the like-minded mages of Leeds, rather than those who live in the forest.

Eris is very intrigued by vampires and wants to learn how they came to be. She is wary of them but has been known to take one to her bed every now and again. On other hand, she is quite indifferent toward werewolves and has no fear of the beasts. Eris is knowledgeable of Reapers and has yet to meet an Angel. She is greatly interested in Specters though and using them to connect to the netherworld they’re tethered to.

With Nate’s plans to expand Athoria, she has grown extremely wary of the crown and Nate’s ambitions. She still plans to seek out Lords like Theo to learn all that she can about the Athors. In addition to her penchant for divulging secrets, she has plans to finally gain access to the Ravenswood library. She knows there are spell books and tomes that might be beneficial to her goals.

The dark witch is a master fire mage and is a great conjurer, and is proficient with harnessing shadows. While she has knowledge of necromancy, she doesn’t practice it and leans toward blood and demonic magic.

Eris’ wand is fashioned from silver due to the corrupt nature of her magic. Wooden wands are easily reduced to cinder from even the most basic spells. Silver is a high level conductor of magic that carries energies instead of storing it. On each side of the wand are gems that act as conduits for magical energy. ◆ Interview Questions ◆

(1) Question One: Did you have any regrets about sacrificing your mother?

“I loved my mother, yes, but she and I never got along. She always asked why I couldn’t be more like my cousin – pious, quiet, and obedient. From the day my magic bloomed, she tried to quell that fire in me. A parent is supposed to accept their children for what they are, correct? All she did was try to change me, so that I could be what she wanted. And when she realized that I would not change, she attempted to force it upon me by trying to strip me of my magic. Instead of letting me walk my own path, my mother intended for me to suffer, magicless and empty, in this beautiful world. To take my magic would mean to take my soul; to take my soul means to kill me. So I gave her to my lord, Xaphan, and I have not regret it since.” (2) Question Two: Do you have a favorite type of fire spell?

“Elemental spells are definitely my favorite type. There is so much one can do with fire, it can be used to create, purify, or destroy…but I tend to lean towards the last, of course. If you want specifics, then my favorite spell is one called Nova Mortis. The user speaks the required incantation and kisses the victim on the lips, transferring a tiny ember into the body. Over time, the ember blossoms, cooking them from the inside out. It is a slow process, though and if you look closely, you can see the fire dancing in their veins. ◆Writing Sample:◆

Eris seemed to drift silently through the brush as she walked. At her flank, her mother, Minerva, lied in a shadow-forged cocoon. She trapped her in a stasis and bound her in shackles that nullified magic. All it took was a simple lie and some crocodile tears and she had her mother ensnared. She’d been so relieved to hear what she finally wanted — that Eris would give into her wishes and be the obedient daughter. Minerva hadn’t even sensed the potion in her wine, not until it was too late. Now, she was being lead to Eris’ den. The hide-out was a warded cave north of Grimsby. She needed to be away from Hallowed Oak, a place where the Green Man couldn’t listen and his hags would pry at the spike of demonic energy.

Once inside, she lowered her mother onto the stone altar. Everything was already in place. Candles lined the altar’s round edges, sitting at each point of the pentagram. In the arm of each star lied runes and sigils, written in blood. A few yards away from the altar lied the summoning circle that her lord would emerge from.“Céimnithe.” Eris uttered, dispersing the shadows.“Ardú.” She said, with a snap of her fingers.

Minerva jolted awake, mouth taking in air as if she’d been drowning. Her green eyes went to her daughter, an expression of betrayal in them. “Whatever you plan on doing, Eris, I beg you…do not to it. Please…”

The dark mage merely gave her a hateful glare, hands working a mortar and pestle. “Where was my mercy, Mother?” She sprinkled herbs and spices into the bowl, mixing in the blood of a ram and boar — Xaphan’s sacred animals. “You tried to kill me as well, you know.”

“I tried to banish your magi—”

Eris cut her off. “There is no difference!”

“You needed to be saved from yourself!” Minerva retorted. “I am your mother and I must protect you, no matter the cost. If you continue down this path, the Guild will have you killed. I cannot let that happen!”

“Who are they to tell me how to use my magic? My. Magic. We can bend the very energies of this world to our will and we must limit ourselves and shy away from power. They’d rather we live our mortal lives praying to the fae, false idols, and obscure gods. They’d rather we sit in a circle and sing to that fucking tree you call a deity!” It was fortunate that no one could hear them from the outside, otherwise all of Athoria could hear them argue. “My god is not bound to the earth, a true god breaks their chains…a true god is a being beyond this world.” Eris pressed a hand to her mother’s brow, the gesture almost loving in nature. “Fortunately, you will have eternity to comprehend his power.”

Her mother began to weep. It was as if she had finally realized how far her daughter had gone, that perhaps she pushed her to this point. “I love you, Eris. You are my daughter, my only child. Please…”

The woman’s hand moved to Minerva’s throat, squeezing. “You never loved me…not truly. Not the way you should. All I ever heard growing up was stories of our line, the Fire-Born beloved children of the Fae called Aodh.” She released her mother, allowing her to breathe. “I’ll never forget that look on your face when you saw me by the river those years ago, when you realized I was like my father. All that talk of the McKenna blood and legacy…and I was the imperfection. From the moment I was born you projected your expectations on me, wished me to be anything other than what I am.” A blissful smile colored Eris’ features. “Well now…I’ll be free of you.”

Eris didn’t bother to let her mother respond. With single word, the woman was silenced for as long as she willed it. The sorceress placed the bowl in the middle of the summoning circle and grasped her spellbook. Kneeling before the circle, she turned to the proper page, letting her aura loose. In an old, crude tongue she began to speak the incantation. The spell’s notes said the language was called Dimoori Sheol, the language of the damned. Every syllable tugged at her soul, sending pulses of dark energy through her frame. The process wasn’t nearly as taxing as the first time she summoned Xaphan. Her book indicated that the user’s first time would require a sacrifice of their life force, as a gesture of devotion. This time, Xaphan only required an offering.

The red witch’s eyes cast white as her head tilted toward the ceiling. Her spell shook the very walls and caused the candles in the space to flare. The ingredients within the bowl began to smoke and bubble until it overflowed. Her mixture disintegrated the dish and pooled to the circle’s edges. The boiling grew violent, the smoke thicker until it filled the space in a haze of brimstone. At the incantation’s climax, the ichor caught fire and from it, a form began to rise. The blue of Eris’ eyes returned and she gazed upon her lord with revere.

“Eris, my most loyal, you’ve come to bargain?” Xaphan asked. His form changed from one shape to the next, each appearance more horrifying than the one before.

“Yes, my lord, Xaphan.” Eris rose to her feet and turned to her mother. The poor woman had soiled herself in the demon’s presence. Her eyes were wide with fear as she trembled. “I have brought my mother, as promised. Her soul is yours to command.”

The demon’s laugh sent a shudder through her. “And what would you have in exchange?” He inquired, already knowing the answer.

“Power. I want the fire to be mine as it is yours. To ruin those who would stand in my way and wreak havoc in your name.”

Xaphan smiled at her reply, his form writhing against the circle’s bounds. “Then give her to me and your sacrifice shall be rewarded,”

Eris stood at her mother’s side, face softened by her impending sorrow. She couldn’t hear Minerva’s pleas for mercy, but she read them on her lips. Perhaps that was why she silenced her, so that she couldn’t be convinced to do so. Despite their turbulent relationship, Eris loved her mother, otherwise it wouldn’t be a true sacrifice. During her time with a coven of conjurers, she learned that nothing was gained without loss. Everything had a price and if one wasn’t willing to pay, then they didn’t deserve it. “Your death will not be in vain.” Eris said, raising a dagger of fire. “Chuid eile i tine.” She plunged the knife into Minerva’s heart, unsilencing her to hear the screams.

If she wouldn’t let her plead for her life, she could at least hear her die. Tears streamed down Eris’ cheeks as the fire engulfed her mother. While Minerva’s body burned on the altar, the light of her soul fluttered from the ashes. The ball of energy hovered just above Eris’ hand as she guided it to Xaphan, dropping to one knee. “I have done as you asked, she is yours my Prince.” She pushed Minerva’s soul into the circle and watched as the demon fed it through serrated teeth.

“It is done, my child. Do not weep, rejoice in your gift.” He said.

Eris then felt a burning in her chest. The pain was so intense, that she sank to the floor. For a moment, she thought Xaphan deceived her. Yet when she looked down, she saw her heart glow orange-red beneath her skin. The fire candlefire matched the pattern of her breath and she felt like the very sun lived in her veins. By the time she looked up, Xaphan was gone and only the crackle of fire remained.

#athoria accepted #lsrpg #supernatural rpg #magic rpg #medieval rpg

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