#the destruction of my enemies is no consolation to me

[commander-chaoss]

Sometimes I write silly shenanigans between my heroes and villains and then all at once the crushing reality of why I feel the need to do this for every single villain I make hits me

[ronqueesha]

@lordcaptains

I was thinking of making a post exactly like this soon! So thanks for the push.

Here are my favorites ASIDE from Rogue Trader:

Dawn of War is an RTS game that came out in 2004. So if you decide to pick it up, be prepared to look for mods or tinker with files in the directory in order for it to play at a nice resolution on a modern pc.

This game was my introduction to Warhammer 40k. It has an EXCELLENT story for an RTS, and its expansions have great stories as well. The expansions are also standalone, so you don't really need to buy the base dawn of war to enjoy them.

Also Dawn of War's impact on the 40k fandom CANNOT be overstated. Many of the incidental voice lines you hear in Rogue Trader from random NPCS ("for the glory of the Imperium!") are taken directly from Dawn of War, just recorded with new voice actors. But the lines and inflections are identical. I use the bold female voice for my rogue trader, and she says many of the lines word for word that the commissar unit in Dawn of War says.

And since it came out so long ago, it actually uses lore and mechanics from much older versions of Warhammer 40k. So there will be some rather large story discrepancies if you've only played Rogue Trader and jump into this game.

I've seen a lot of posts from people complimenting the music from Rogue Trader. It's got NOTHING on Mechanicus. The main theme was recorded in a cathedral, and uses actual engine parts in the instrumentation.

The game itself is a tactical combat game, pretty much focusing only on combat that's very similar to Rogue Trader's combat. You play as a group of Adeptus Mechanicus plundering a Necron tomb world. The highlight for me is that the Necrons are the ones with the most human story and voice acting, while the mechanicus characters are super varied in how inhuman they are.

I picked up this game and its sequel after watching a review from MandaloreGaming on youtube. (it's also why I bought the pathfinder games)

But I really only got into it after being immersed in Rogue Trader's ship combat. This game is literally nothing but Warhammer 40k ship combat, with a really good story to boot. The prologue/tutorial for the sequel is actually the destruction of Cadia, which is a huge moment in the lore and also really spectacular.

On the other hand, it's LITERALLY Warhammer 40k ship combat. So even though it's got a really good story, the gameplay can be slow as you watch these beautifully rendered ships slowly maneuver into position to fire equally beautiful weapons at each other. It's in real time unlike Rogue Trader's ship combat, though.

This is a game I've played the least out of all the major worth-buying 40k games. But it's pretty much just Diablo in the Warhammer setting. You play as an Inquisitor (or a sister of battle if you buy the dlc, which I did of course) single-handedly doing what they do best against the enemies of humanity.

The space marine series is AMAZING. And the best part is that the original Space Marine game is about 14 years old. So you don't need to buy an expensive new console or pc to play it like you might need for Space Marine 2.

Seriously, play Space Marine and have a blast in one of the best action games ever made.

[cookie-nom-nom]

[“But I’m not even human.” 

Miles shrugged. “Human is as human does.” He forced himself to reach out and touch her damp cheek. “Animals don’t weep, Nine.”

She jerked, as if from electric shock. “Animals don’t lie. Humans do. All the time.”

“Not all the time.”

“Prove it.” She tilted her head as she sat cross-legged, her pale gold eyes were suddenly burning. Speculative. 

“Uh, sure. How?”

“Take off your clothes.”

“Wot.”

“Take off your clothes and lay with me as humans do, men and women.” Her hand reached out to touch his throat. The pressing claws made little wells in his flesh.

“Urp?” choked Miles. His eyes felt wide as saucers. A little more pressure and those wells would spring out red fountains. I’m about to die. 

She stared into his face with a strange, frightening, bottomless hunger. Then, abruptly, she released him. He sprang up and cracked his head on the low ceiling and dropped back down, the stars in his eyes unrelated to love at first sight. Her lips wrinkled back on a fanged groan of despair. “Ugly,” she wailed, her clawed nails raked across her cheeks, leaving furrows. “Too ugly. Animal. You don’t think I’m human.” She seemed to swell with some destructive resolve. 

“No no no!” Gibbered Miles, lurching to his knees and grabbing her hands and pulling them down. “It’s not that, it’s just— how old are you, anyway?” 

“Sixteen.”]

——

Miles instantly recoiled, cracking his head on the ceiling again because those who didn’t learn history were doomed to repeat it, as Commodore Tung was fond of reminding him. Immediately her eyes narrowed, a snarl creeping over her sharp teeth. “You don’t think I’m human enough,” she accused, voice still husky from disuse. “I knew it.” Her claws slipped back up to the scratches on her damp face, and he jolted forward, batting them down again in a reckless manner. 

“No, it’s not that,” Miles insisted, eyeing the way her claws were curling into fists about the same size as his entire face. “You’re a child! I can’t do that.”

“My life expectancy was barely a few years. The rest of the projects have been long dead.”

“Well, it’s still wrong in human years, which is the point. There’s plenty of other tests for humanity, anyways.” Sex was by no means the epitome of human existence. “What about Socrates? Human choice motivated by the desire for happiness? Or, oh, what was that test for AI centuries ago? The Tuning Test? That would work too.” He didn’t remember what it actually entailed. “There’s many tests. You yourself said only humans lie. By your own logic, lie, ergo, human. Human is as human does.” That’s what he’d meant it to be applied to, anyway. 

Her eyes narrowed. “None of those prove your belief to me. I still like my test.” Well, naturally. [Sixteen. God. He remembered sixteen. Sex obsessed and dying every minute.] 

[“Aren’t you a little young for this?” he tried hopefully.] She started a protest, but he continued. “It’s illegal. There. I applied human laws to you.” Probably a first for Jackson’s Hole. “I also just offered you a job, and regulations ban interrank romantic interactions.” No matter how much he might want to with one particular Eli Quinn...

The power dynamic was entirely wrong, between his age and rank and the fact he was beginning to suspect he was about to rescue this girl. Or, hell, look at it the other way, at the underlying threat that he must prove he believed her human or die. It was a messed up power imbalance from nearly every angle. 

A crumpled look crossed her wolfish features. Miles tried to console her. One for it being the Vorish, gentlemanly thing to do, and two because while he thought it unlikely she’d kill him at this point, he still didn’t want to increase his chances. “I’m probably the first nice face you’ve seen in a while. Don’t settle for me simply since I got here first. There are plenty of suitable partners once you get out of this basement. Which, reminder, we’re in a hostile environment surrounded by enemies. We still need to escape.” 

Moroseness slumped her features. “It’s impossible. I stopped trying years ago. And…” a shudder ran down her strong back, ears flattening. “...they don’t like it when you try,” she said lowly. “They wouldn’t do this to me if I was human.”

“Eh, actually they would. I mean, I’m human, and I’m down here, aren’t I? I’ve been deemed subhuman before. It hurts when they think it’d be a mercy to ‘put you out of your misery’.” He was going to strangle that scientist.

She gave him an odd look, scrutinizing him more thoroughly. “You don’t look like Jacksonian work. And you said you’re human. Why isn’t that enough for them?” 

Miles spread his hands wide, a wry expression crossing his features. “Ah, but I’m a mutant. A weakling. A curse from God upon my father’s house for every sin they can think to lay at his feet. They will find anything and everything they can to hold against you, Nine, no matter what it is that makes you different. Eight feet tall or four foot nine, unmatched strength or bones of glass; they will despise you either way. Well damn their notion of being born wrong because I intend to be ten times the man they ever could be.”

“Then it’s hopeless.” 

“If you want it to be handed to you, yes. You can’t rely on someone else to give you your humanity, because that implies they can revoke it at any time. It’s a value you have to find within yourself.” It sounded like some pithy Betan advice he would’ve picked up from his mother. “With your test, you wanted your body to feel human. But what about your soul, Nine?” He paused. “No, we need a name for you. I can’t be calling you a number like some type of lab rat.” Something strong and pretty, like her. He fell into that well of old earth philosophy he had initially fallen back on. Socrates, the Greeks, the like. When he finally found the name, it seemed perfect for the girl called a monster and trapped deep in the heart of a labyrinth of labs. Wasn’t Miles intended to be some blood sacrifice to her as well? And hadn’t the minotaur been a child when he was imprisoned for life? Punished for the crime of being born, just like them. “Taura,” he breathed. “I think I shall call you Taura.”

She went still, enraptured. “A name.” Tears welled in her golden eyes. “No one has ever given me a name.” 

“I’m not giving it to you. I’m letting you take it, to seize it, to make it your own. As much as I’d like to, I can’t give you your humanity either. That’s all up to you. Break free of every cruel moniker hurled at you. Monster, mutant– who cares what any of them think!? Prove them all wrong and never look back. That’s what I did. So here: I may reject your test, but I offer my own. I believe you’re ‘human enough’ because I believe you’re worthy of freedom, of a future, of a name. I certainly can’t give any of that to you, but I sure can help you try.” Something sparked in her gilded gaze, the tantalizing offer she’d likely never been given before. It was a hope doused quickly, but it had been there at all. Miles had a chance of relighting it, of fanning the flames. 

“You really think so?” Uncertain, her fangs twisted into a guarded frown. 

Miles batted aside a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t just because she was his only shot of escape, and it certainly wasn’t for a particular scientist whose neck he wanted to wring. This was because Taura didn’t deserve to be trapped in a basement eating rats for the rest of her tenuous life. He might have needed her, but she needed him, too, if only for a little while. 

“I don’t make offers I don’t intend to provide. So, care to escape with me?” He held out an arm, almost ridiculously formal, and she took it, choosing to trust him if only hesitantly, if only for that little spark of hope still in here somewhere.

[lorena12me]

Timbern Week 2023 Day 3:

“My boyfriend has an identical scar here” | Fanfic Writer Bernard | Hurt / Comfort (comfort will come with the announcement of the 7th)

Title:

Five minutes to go

Summary:

If you only had 5 minutes to live, what would you do with them?

The world was so devastated after the latest apocalypse that the Justice League decided to send Flash back in time to prevent destruction. Tim and Bernard embrace as they watch the world they met in fade away. Aware that in this new timeline they may never be together again.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Bear" Tim say softly, clinging to Bernard with all his might, ignoring the pain and wounds that filled his body after surviving the final fight to save the earth from invasion.

His Robin suit was in tatters, blood and tears splattering every part of his body where Bernard laid his eyes. It wasn't the first time Bernard had seen him hurt, limping and bleeding, but it was the first time he had seen him so scared. So vulnerable.

"You won, Tim, it's over" consoles the blond, but Tim denies and looks him in the eye, tears beginning to fall, a line of translucent glass wiping a small gap of grime on Tim's mangled face.

"No, we didn't" his voice cracks "we stopped him, but it's too late, everything is ruined."

"W-what?"

"The machines had already extracted a large amount of the earth's magma and it's predicted that there will be earthquakes and drastic climate changes over the next few years…billions of people will die Bern…we didn't win it in time"

Bernard's mouth goes dry, horror coursing through his veins like scarecrow poison, but it's worse because it's real. The world was spared the violent and swift destruction of the enemy, but doomed to perish slowly and agonizingly like a poisoned animal.

"What are we going to do?" he asks, the food stored in the safe houses and the various bat bases will last only so long and if the planet will take so many years to stabilize everything will become a repeat of no man's land globally.

"Bear… Bernard" Tim grits his teeth forcing himself to say the following words "The justice league decided that it's too much unrecoverable damage… they're going to send an agent back in time to prevent all this."

"But that's good, right?" Bernard smiles shakily and then is horrified when Tim nods and then shakes his head in despair.

"It'll prevent this whole mess, sure" he says finally "But… Bear, traveling back in time involves rewriting the whole timeline. There's… a lot of things that are going to change or cease to exist… it's a coin flip about what's going to stay the same"

"…" Bernard begins to understand and doesn't think he's liking what's being implied "What does that mean for us, Tim?" he exhales

"It means there's nothing to assure us that you or I…we, exist."

Bernard feels his heart stop for a moment, his breathing quickens and eyes water finally realizing how much they are about to lose.

"How much time do we have?"

"I don't know… Minutes?" Tim pulls his hair then lets go and takes three determined steps until he's beside Bernard, pulling him into another hug "I just heard they made the decision before I turned around and used the last of the Zeta-tube's energy to get back here."

Here… Tim left his family behind, the other bats to come back to Bernard… He squeezes his arms tightly around his Robin, crying, because Tim just chose him, as he has every time, even when Bernard has felt so unworthy of it. Every damn time Tim makes it clear to him that he doesn't have to fight for him, for his love. That he's chosen it because he loves him the same way Bernard loves him.

"I didn't want it all to end without being able to see you at least one more time, Bear…"

"I love you" Bernard cries through tears "I love you Tim, you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"I love you Bear… I…"

Before Tim can finish whatever he was going to say, the horizon beyond Gotham begins to glow with an orange and white glow. They both turn around without releasing their embrace, to watch as the light grows bigger and bigger. It's not like an explosion, there's no sound or shockwave, the light approaches them silently and Bernard hasn't yet finished processing that there's a giant chance he's about to cease to exist, but, he thinks hysterically as the light reaches out and engulfs them, there's no other person he wants to fade into nothingness with, than Tim.

(reposted because I finished writing the drabble that accompanied the drawing)

[llanekee]

three hundred poems by Lane Key

In order of release from May:

Precocious

Dust Mites

Wrecks Need Consoling Too

Video Star

Novelty Feelings

Chug

Lethal Warnings (Self Taught by Me)

Retreating Figure

Good Entertainment

Beautiful People (Blessedly Doomed)

Fundamentals

The Nature of Modern Suicidalness

Drinking to a Drought

Curator

In an Alternate Deception

Flattery June

Free Verse (Free the Writer)

Roadkill on Deserted Road

Autopsy Surgeon

Initialized July

Trouble Sipping River

Constellation(s)

Word Bank

Love For

Kids Again (Stuck in Stretching Skin Skin Skin)

Verge

Kiss Me Hard

Finest of the Craft August

Black and White (and Pink) September

Rainfall Snowfall (however the Stars Kiss Us)

Subconscious Habit

Crushing on Loving

Smitten

Unmet Lover

The Rest

Cheaping Out

A Sincere Decision

Mental Cage

Description of a Doomed Man

Man of Many Faces

Swirls of Poetry (in Me in You)

Viral Demolition

Celestial

Reflected Look

We are Tortured Artists (Both Monsters Alike)

Connect

Siren's Deadliest Lullaby

Some

Caricature Unchanged October

Coward

Did You Lie

For the Little Moments

Relinquish

What can be Diverted

Goliath

Defying

Offerings in Breath

Conveying (Surviving)

An Attempt

Spare a Moment

Capitalize on Beauty

No Encore November

A Human Existence (Loving and Abhorrent)

Till Ghouls Do Us Apart

Unwound Old Wounds

Loving Destruction

A Bird's Spirit

To my Enemies in Martyrdom

Sky Weeds

Wake Up

Nothing to Give

Oh Baby

Make It (Break It)

Blessed Curses December

Hiding in Crisis

Spitting Image (Good Riddance)

A Devotee's Kiss

Your Anchor (My Truth)

Immense Sadness

Eternity in a Moment of Weakness

Cinematic Flare

Love Carved by Children

Doomed by the Narrative

Poster Child

In Sweetness and Suffering

Unfulfilled

Love is Enduring

Widow Up the Hill

Constringent

Maisy Waters

Exceptional Company (Lovers of Misery)

Anniversary

Full of an Awful Ailment Called Love

Permission to Never Forget

I Hope I'm a Scar

Love III

Lapdog

Changing My Machinery

Try Again

Galaxy Touched (Wanted but Never Wants)

[hieromonkcharbel]

Can man confuse psychological tears with spiritual tears?

Man may confuse them in the early stages of his life in Christ, but as he perseveres in prayer, his discernment becomes sharper, and he sees more clearly which thoughts are from God, which are from the devil, and which are his own, human thoughts. He begins to distinguish tears according to their spiritual taste. The grace he receives in repentance gives him a spiritual taste. The thoughts of the enemy bear a taste of agitation and confusion, which are the states proper to his spirit. The thought that comes from God gives him joy, peace, love, sweetness and strength. And if it is a human thought, he must distinguish between his own thought and that of the adversary.

For example, I go to my cell, I feel exhausted, and I want to sleep. This thought is probably natural, but sometimes the enemy meddles with the thoughts that come from our nature. We monks often make this mistake and slip into this delusion. At the end of the day, we are tired; and a thought comes to us: 'Oh, I am exhausted, I am dead, I cannot do anything, I am going to sleep.’ The enemy succeeds in instilling such thoughts into our mind so that we think they are our own.

If a monk accepts these thoughts and does what they tell him, he will be slain by the enemy, and he will be left desolate, without any benefit. Whereas if he does not accept them, although he feels weak and tired, but begins to pray: 'Yes, I am tired, but I will do whatever God will give me the strength to do, then he will see a fearful miracle. The Lord Himself comes to reward the monk for the toil with which he laboured honourably for the sake of his brethren during the day. He imparts to him a good state favourable to the prayer of the heart, which brings him divine consolation.

Therefore, let us not be ignorant of the fact that sometimes the enemy also interferes with our natural thoughts in order to close the door to God's grace and care, and to prevent us from receiving the wages that God wants to give us for our labours. We are often exhausted, and this has value; God wants to reward us, for He is the Giver of all good. But if we accept such thoughts, we close the door to prayer, to God's gift. If, on the other hand, we disregard them and make an effort to pray, we come to know extraordinary states, and we receive more grace and strength than ever before. Therefore, the danger is that we justify ourselves before God with the natural thoughts of our physical tiredness, and by not making a fleeting minimal effort, we miss the opportunity to receive His eternal blessings.

Another example is hunger. An innocent natural thought comes that we are hungry, and we need to eat in order to remain alive. But the enemy defiles it with the passion of overeating. We all know how destructive this passion is. Saint John of the Ladder writes about gluttony: 'I wonder if anyone has been liberated of this mistress before settling in the grave.'

The monk, however, must strive to live above his nature. Saint John gives this definition: 'A monk is one who constantly constrains his nature.’ The commandments of God seem burdensome, but the apostle says that 'His commandments are not grievous.’ They seem heavy because they seek to cure man's heavy infirmity, so that he may rise to the supranatural level of divine love. God desires to give him all things and has given him commandments that aim to heal the whole man, so that he may find a rich entrance into His Kingdom.

“Flying Over the Abyss”

Archimandrite Zacharias Zacharou

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1104 - Initial Thoughts

We have waited long, but finally we are here

Let's see that fucking punch land!

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release also

A nice little Disney-esque cover page as Sanji helps a mouse propose with a fancy dinner. Bernard from the Rescuers could've used a wingman like that, though he did tame a warthog, outwit a Goanna and push a hunter to his aquatic death so...

Back where we started with Kuma ready to wind up on Saturn

Kuma and Saturn's memories briefly flash; their encounter, the loss of Kuma's mother, Ginny, Ginny's death, Bonney and now Bonney crying as she is now, all leading to this moment

Saturn is flabbergasted, not just because Kuma's here but because Kuma is alive, he already triggered the self-destruct switch when the Revolutionaries took him

Mr 'I'm a man of science don't try to deceive me' got so fuckin' deceived

AND DAMN DID THAT PUNCH FEEL GOOD

Wham Bam and thank you Ma'am, Saturn is sent bleeding, reeling and covered in Egghead's rubble

And now that Saturn is struck, nobody's frozen in place, leading to them going after Bonney to check on her

Bonney however is being comforted by her father, as Vegapunk looks on in bewilderment

He did make a failsafe, it just wasn't as barbaric as a bomb, the switch should have shut Kuma down completely, and with no humanity left he should've just been empty

Vegapunk can't answer the question with science, but he does think about something the Buccaneers were said to have, but left vague to the audience

Kizaru has mixed feelings on this, but Sentomaru is relieved

Luffy has also disappeared, hidden in the ruckus

After over 3 long years, father and daughter reunite, with Bonney consoling Kuma over having seen his memories

'I don't care if everyone else calls you a tyrant, because I know there's no-one kinder than my dad' - welp we're not done with the feels I see

Alas, Saturn is of course alive from that, and the Elder is quite perturbed

Also missing half his arm and one of his horns as he demands an explanation from Vegapunk

Vegapunk admits it's his doing, but he doesn't have an explanation, cheekily suggesting the power of love being at play

He seems to take it aloofly, slowly regenerating his missing parts

He once again goes for Kuma, but this time he's not moving

So Sanji finally gets to do something! Kicking the spiked leg away

And then Franky out here just firing a Radical Beam through Saturn

Franky may not get much shine but between Driving his motorcycle into a Yonko's face and now firing a laser beam through a Gorosei he's amassing up some feats

Alas, Kizaru once again chooses to be a cog in the machine and attacks Franky in retaliation

Saturn also recovers from the beam attack

With Kuma unable to move, Atlas is charged with carrying him to safety

Kizaru also notes that Kuma's appearance has put too many players on the board

Vegapunk does reprimand Kizaru for still siding with the Government, though his response does imply some duplicity

As a result, Saturn orders a Buster Call, all of Egghead is an enemy of the government

A 'traitor', a survivor and a pirate with the powers of god, Saturn wants none of that smoke

Man still don't know about the giant mecha hidden away

A good chapter to effectively start the new year. We got the punch, and he might've regenerated from it but still we got the punch and it was good.

Luffy's absence is a cause for wonder, one does have to wonder too what's going down in the Labophase still with the Seraphim, Lucci vs Zoro and everyone waiting for the ship to get to the rendez-vous, also Robin is still AWOL.

It is cool to see Vegapunk marvel at something even he can't quite understand when it came to Kuma, it feels like something has clicked in his brain. But with Egghead now a target of the Buster Call there's so much he's going to lose from this, but at the same time the Gorosei can't remake the Mother Flame with Egghead destroyed.

There's still the matter of the Blackbeard ship and Caribou too, the sleeping giant is just one of multiple things waiting to come into play.

Luffy fighting Saturn in Gear Fifth does feel imminent, even if Kizaru is playing both sides, if it was just a Buster Call it wouldn't quite be a ground-shaking incident, but since the media has made out that Luffy had kidnapped Vegapunk there's little way that the WG are gonna come out of this shining.

[phyrexian-lesbian]

Hey people, here is my opening for my what if? fanfic, the Nature of the Doctor.

The Nature of the Doctor

The Power of the Doctor

Deep Space, 2022

The two planets gleamed with fire and violence, bringing a tear to Yasmin Khan’s eye. Before her was a man who once was her true love, now becoming her worst enemy. That coat flowed in the breeze, reminding her of the woman she wished so dearly could be her everything, but that’s impossible. Her body, her mind, her soul have been taken by the man she hates. The man who caused this.

“Oh, excellent work,” he marvelled, eyes shining with the destruction, “Gold star and a sticker.” He spun to Yaz, a maniacal grin on his face. “That’s how you stop two sides from warring. Destroy them both.”

Yaz felt nothing but horror, hatred, and sadness. He saw her face, and snickered. “See?” he gloated, “No-one to stop me now.” He turned his back to her.

Anger flared in her chest. “NO!” she screamed, going to push him over. He spun and caught her hand.

“Not even you, Yasmin Khan,” he said softly, with a smile that did not reach his cold, merciless eyes. “Now come on, Yaz!”

He threw her into the TARDIS, which felt a lot colder than it used to.

“Let’s go on an adventure!”

The TARDIS groaned and wheezed, taking off into time and space. The Master danced to the sound, humming. “Mmmmmm, don’t you just love that sound, Yaz?” he said, spinning around the console room. “The sound of hope, someone once called it.” He stopped in front of the stairs she was sitting on. His dark silhouette was framed by the menacing yellow light of the TARDS. “Well, now it’s gonna become a sound of fear and despair. Everyone who hears this will cry, knowing that the Doctor has come to town!”

He paused, considering his words carefully. “Not Earth, though. Without the Doctor to save you, Earth is pretty much over, isn’t it?” He cackled, running back to the console. “And to think I’ve spent so long trying to end your pitiful little rock! Kinda sad, really.”

Yaz felt hollow. Everything she’d fought for was over. Now she wanted to see the Doctor more than ever, just to hear her voice once more. To save them.

“Hey, Yaz!” said the Doctor’s voice, making both Yaz and the Master jump. “What’s up- oh, hey, Master,” she said, her face falling.

“What,” the Master muttered, running up to her. Yaz stood in front of her, trying to shield her, “The hell- outta my way, Yaz- are you doing, Doctor? What’s this?”

“I’m not telling you, because I assume that you’re a part of the problem!”

“Aha!” the Master exclaimed, “A trauma-response Artron hologram, functioning in your mental absence!”

The holographic Doctor was silent.

The Master grinned, taking out a device that must have been a sonic screwdriver. As he lifted the coat, however, Yaz saw the glittering yellow crystal of the sonic that she knew so well. A thought crossed her mind, but her train of thought was interrupted.

“Let’s see, Yaz,” the Master said to her, scanning her with his sonic, “what seems to be the problem? Little earache?”

“Leave her alone,” the Doctor growled.

“Hush, dear,” the Master replied, then gasped at turned to the hologram, “Oh, naughty naughty, Doctor! You've given your little holograms to two other humans!”

Tegan and Ace, Yaz thought. Well, they almost had an advantage. But as the sonic whirred, Yaz felt her heart drop.

The holo-Doctor started flickering. “No!” Yaz screamed, trying to reach for her. The Doctor's eyes flicked to Yaz's, mouthed I'm so sorry, then vanished.

She clenched her fist. She didn't need to turn around to know the Master was sneering.

“There you go, Miss Khan,” he said in a mock-nurse voice, “All better.”

She would not cry. She would not cry.

She steeled herself and turned to meet the Master’s eyes.

“Why're you doin’ this?” she asked, “What's the point of all of this?”

His sneering smile vanished. “Don't you get it, Yaz?” He began pacing around the console, flicking controls as he went. “The Doctor has been nothing but a pain in my side and my heart for thousands of years. Despite all I do for her, she never sees me. Did she tell you how he locked me in a vault for seventy-something years?”

Yaz was only half listening. She was preparing to enact a plan to escape. “Of course she didn't. You should know now she barely told me anything.” She had to keep him talking for this to work.

He chuckled. “You're right, you're RIGHT!” He jumped and clapped, “I am the Doctor now. I know every little moment where she had to make sure she never fell in love with you.”

Yaz’s heart fluttered like a lonely butterfly. The Master saw her look up at him and she grinned.

“Oh, yes indeed, Yaz,” he teases, “I might not be able to access all of the Doctor's memories, but she meant what she said about you. You remind her a little- a lot, actually- of her darling wife. I can see it too, I've met her as well.” He waltzed over to Yaz. “I'd be rooting for you too, but honestly Yaz- you're not my type.”

She punched him in the chest. “You're lying!” she growled as he stumbled away.

He began laughing. Good, Yaz thought, tucking the sonic in her back pocket. She pressed it, angling it toward the console. All she had to do was point and think. And pray that someone would be alive and would hear her message.

“I'm not lying, Yaz,” the Master replied, “I'm dead serious. She liked you. You two could have been a glorious pair of sappy little sapphics, but alas,” he sighed dramatically. “It was not meant to be.”

Alright, Yaz wasn't sure how much more she could take of this. She sonic vibrated slightly; the message had been received and replied to. They were ready.

“Shut UP!” she roared, throwing him carefully onto a control on the console. The TARDIS began the re-materialisation sequence. Yaz took out the sonic, inputting the coordinates she needed. The TARDIS materialised, and Yaz turned to the Master.

He chuckled. “A nice try, Yaz, but you can't possibly escape me-,”

She snapped her fingers, and as the door opened into the view of the city far, far below them, Yaz leapt, and fell to her death.

England, Earth, 2022

Kate Stewart, Director of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, was thrown bodily into the Cyber-Conversion chair. Several of her soldiers sat shackled to these metal horrors, screaming as blades and electricity tore through their bodies. She steeled her face. She would remain stoic in the face of danger. Surely, the Doctor would save them now. It was kind of her M.O- last minute plans when her friends were on the brink of death.

The cruel, broken Cyberman clamped her into the chair. The apparatus closed around her hand. This might be it. Well, she'd lived a fulfilling life. She did good. She was proud of herself.

“Enjoy your last moments, human,” the cruel Cyberman growled- Ashad, his name was- and reached to activate the machine.

Then he paused.

So did all the other Cyberman.

“What,” Ashad growled, looking around.

There was silence. All the humans, who were now not being tortured, looked at each other in confusion.

“Explain!” another generic Cyberman demanded.

After a few moments, Ashad growled again. “How is this possible? You're meant to be-,” he stopped, as if interrupted. Kate guessed someone was contacting all the Cybermen.

“Doctor! Where are you?!” Ashad cried, his one visible eye flashing with anger.

The Doctor, Kate thought, She's saved us.

After a longer pause, Ashad turned to the other Cybermen and screamed; “AFTER HIM!”

Him? Kate thought. Last she checked, the Doctor had been going by she/her pronouns full-time recently. Had the Doctor somehow regenerated since Kate last saw them? Or…

She couldn't consider the other possibility. It could make an already complicated day even more complicated.

Whoever the Doctor was, all the Cybermen, including Ashad, stormed out of the dark cellar. The humans couldn't believe their luck. Well, now was better than never.

Waiting until they had definitely left the room, Kate spat the toothpick she had hidden in her mouth into her hand. She wiggled it into the lock, and managed to pick her way out of the cuff. When she freed one hand, she ripped her other free of the shackle. Both hands free, she freed the rest of her team.

“Well, team,” she said, standing, “Let's save humanity.”

Naples, Earth, 2022

“I think we just blow it up and make a break for it,” Ace said sagely to her new companion.

He shook his head. “Nah, nah, there's no way in hell we make that,” he replied, gesturing to the giant Dalek machine. They were inside a volcano that was on the brink of eruption. And a race of alien serial killers were planning to blow it up. Nor a great place to be in.

“Well, can you,” Graham said, gesturing to her, “figure out a way to blow up this bleedin’ Dalek monstrosity, and figure out a way to run fast enough.”

She scoffed. “And what are you gonna do? Boss a woman around?”

“Well, I'm pretty good at running away, so if you want to take charge on the res- ah, ah, AHH.”

He started fiddling around in his pocket, pulling out the psychic paper. He hissed when he touched it, but he opened it and his eyes widened, his pain forgotten.

“Oi, come and have a gander at this.” He gestured for her to come over. She peered over his shoulder. Scrawled writing appeared on the paper.

Hello, pudding-brains, it wrote.

“Charming,” Ace muttered.

I picked up two human life-forms idiotically close to a Dalek death machine inside an exploding volcano. I'll save your lives, though I'm afraid you might lose them immediately. I have a way to save you, if you listen carefully.

Ace and Graham leaned closer.

Run. Get out of there. It's about to blow and there's nothing you can do about it. So, run. I’ve got it from here.

Yours truly,

-The Doctor

They both groaned. Of course it was. Who else would be that relentlessly mean to them while saving them?

“I am going to have a word with her,” she muttered.

“Yeah, you and me both, mate.”

They ran out of the cave systems. The volcano rumbled behind them. As they looked up at the peak, the caldera exploded, taking a chunk of mountain with it. Lava exploded into the air, and it began its descent to their waiting heads.

And then it stopped.

A beam of blue energy struck it. Ace noticed a an extra moon in the sky that hadn't been there before. The energy seemed to he coming from something on the surface; the Doctor, Ace guessed. Whatever it touched turned to silver. Such as the lava-turned-giant sculpture above them.

“Cor blimey,” Graham marvelled, which pretty much summed up their situation.

England, Earth, 2022

Kate, thanks to the Doctor's distraction, managed to force the Cybermen to retreat and foe U.N.I.T. to take the tower back. Tegan Jovanka strode up beside her.

“Did she do it?” she asked.

Kate considered the “she”. She guessed she'd refer to the Doctor as such until told otherwise. “Evidently,” she replied.

Tegan sighed with relief. “Really thought the gold was gonna work there.”

Kate smiled at her. “We all did. I suppose, in hindsight, we should've seen it all coming.”

Tegan went to reply, but a U.N.I.T soldier ran up to Kate.

“Ma’am,” he said, breathless, “We have an urgent transmission from Yasmin Khan.”

Kate swore, taking the tablet from his hand. The screen showed a series of coordinates. Spatio-temporal coordinates, like she had learned from her father's files on communication with the Doctor. She translated it in her head, then swore again.

“That's above this city in 20 minutes.” She began typing a set of coordinates he would understand. “Get a helicopter there at the exact time, and tilt it sideways so she can fall directly into it.” His eyes widened. “Yes, it's as insane as it sounds. Now, go, go, go, go!”

He scrambled off to follow these orders.

26 minutes later, Yasmin Khan was returned safety to U.N.I.T HQ. She looked exhausted, emotionally and physically.

Kate sighed. “Listen, I hate to cut to the chase, but I need to know where the Doctor is. You have any intel on that?”

Yaz looked at her strangely.

“The Doctor is dead.”

[rynmaru]

Wreckage

Light. That was the first thing that Castor registered as he slowly opened his eyes. He stared up at the sky above him, the rosy tint of the atmosphere reminding him of the sky over Anakeion.

It had been so long since he had gone home.

Shifting, Castor struggled to sit up or move his legs at all. He tried to focus, taking in his surroundings and taking stock of his situation. As he did so, he realized that he was tangled in the harness of his pilot’s seat, the blood rushing to his head as he dangled head down. His vision was blurry and he squinted, trying to bring everything into focus as he realized his glasses were gone. His ears were ringing in the aftermath of a concussive impact.

Impact…

He shouldn’t be able to see the sky. He was inside his mech. He was in combat.

The preceding events came rushing back to Castor all at once. He remembered closing the distance towards one of the enemy mechs, a hulking striker frame. He had been focused on shutting the pilot out of their systems as P.O.L.L.V.X. handled the majority of the combat this time. The NHP’s reaction time was faster than Castor’s could ever be, and in the agile Daedalus he was certain they could dodge any lumbering, slow moving swing directed their way. He had been so very wrong.

“C-C-Castor-tor-tor!”

P.O.L.L.V.X.’s voice cut through the ringing in Castor’s ears, barely recognizable as belonging to them as it crackled through mangled speakers.

“Cast-t-tor can you hear me-me-me?”

“Lux…” Castor turned his head in the general direction of their voice. “You have to…get us up…”

His words came out thickly through a mouthful of blood he had not registered until now. Spitting it out, Castor coughed and felt more fill his mouth. Pain pulsed in his side.

“I can-can-can’t, our reactor’s completely sh-sh-shot. Pushing any further-r-r-r could send it into a meltdown-down-down,” a few of the dim red lights in the cracked cockpit’s console flickered lavender as P.O.L.L.V.X. darted around the systems, running diagnostics. “My-my-my cameras are out too. Are y-y-you alright?”

“I lost my glasses…”

“Okay, but are you hurt-hurt-hurt?”

Castor coughed again as he drew breath to answer. The pain in his side flared again and he slowly lifted his head, looking down, or rather, up towards his side.

Maybe it was the concussion that slowed his processing, or perhaps he was just in shock, but it took Castor a long moment to realize that the destruction of his mech had resulted in some of the primary straps in the pilot’s seat being torn free, something that would have sent him plummeting out of the chair to the ground were it not for the shrapnel piercing through his left side, pinning him to the seat.

The dark blue fabric of his L.E.I.D.A. issued flight-suit was stained almost black with blood that seeped from the hole, though much of it was staunched by the shrapnel itself plugging the wound.

Castor’s breathing quickened, growing shallow and panicked.

“I…I’m…”

“Fuck.” P.O.L.L.V.X. had already picked up on what his lack of a response meant. “How b-b-bad?”

Castor reached to grab at the shrapnel, hands slipping in his own blood and struggling to find a firm grip. “Lux, I can’t get it out! I can’t get it out!”

“What?! No, d-d-don’t take it out! Whatever it is, don’t take it out-t-t-t! You’ll bleed-bleed-bleed more!” P.O.L.L.V.X. swore and the lights in the cockpit flickered purple again. “Comms are down…I c-c-can’t contact your Lance.”

Castor’s head was throbbing, blood rushing to it and turning his face scarlet, as he continued trying to pull the shrapnel free. He cut his palm on the sharp edge of the ragged metal, and, as if that reminded his body that it should feel pain from the situation, Castor almost passed out from the wave of anguish that swept outward from the wound.

The pain only made his panic worse and he thrashed in desperation, unable to register any comfort or advice P.O.L.L.V.X. may have been providing as their voice was drowned by the ringing in his ears.

A shadow fell over him as the rosy sky was blotted out by a looming mechanical figure. Castor froze for a moment, looking up. A wave of relief swept over him as he recognized the paint job colors as those belonging to Karma, Glitch’s mech. He couldn’t hear anything over his fried comms, and instead just watched as the mech’s spindly fingers wedged themselves in the narrow crack in the coffin and pried the metal further apart, creating more space.

The action jolted both Castor and the metal in him and he felt it start to come loose from the seat. The blood staining his clothes spread further. His head fell back, exhaustion starting to win out.

“Byte!”

Fenrir’s voice came from above him but Castor couldn’t find the energy to lift his head anymore. Couldn’t find the energy to do much of anything aside from dangle in the straps of his chair.

“Byte, answer me! You alive?!”

Fenrir was already starting to climb down, not waiting for an answer.

“He’s alive, Fenrir. But his condition is critical-cal-cal,” P.O.L.L.V.X. spoke up. “My monitors for his v-v-vitals are damaged, but he definitely s-s-sustained head trauma.”

Fenrir lowered himself to Castor’s level, his face little more than a blur thanks to the loss of Castor’s glasses.

“Shit. Okay. Okay, I’m getting you out of here, Byte. Just might take a second…”

Castor closed his eyes and nodded.

“Thank you…”

“Thank you?” Fenrir snorted. “You’ve never said that before.

“You’ve never…done anything…worth thanking you for…”

“Fucking asshole,” Fenrir laughed, though it was clearly strained as he took a moment to assess the damage. Castor felt a hand gripping his arm and saw another reaching to grab the shrapnel.

“Right, so there’s no way to get you out of here without pulling this out. We don’t have the tools for anything else. I’m going to need you to put pressure on the wound as soon as I do and keep that pressure til I get you to Regent. Got it?”

Fenrir’s voice sounded like it was coming from a long way off, but Castor nodded.

“Good.”

Bracing himself against the chair, Fenrir yanked the metal free. Castor immediately felt himself start to fall, caught by the tangled straps only for a brief moment, but almost before he had time to register falling he was caught by Fenrir.

“I got ya.” The older Lancer looked up. “Pull us out, Glitch.”

They began rising quickly. Castor had his hand over the deep wound in his side as he had been instructed, but it hurt too much to put pressure on. The blood continued flowing, seeping between his fingers.

As they were freed from the coffin, Fenrir found his footing on the crumpled wreckage of the Daedalus.

“Get him down here!” Regent’s usually quiet, warm voice now carried the authoritative bark of a seasoned military leader, and Fenrir didn’t waste any time obeying, carrying Castor down to the ground where Regent waited. The Lance leader had already laid out some sort of tarp material and Fenrir went to lay Castor on top of it. The boy was unresponsive, eyes open but glazed in shock and pain.

Regent ran to Castor’s side, taking in the damage. Blood soaked his flight suit and matting his hair. Every inch of exposed skin was scraped and bruised, one eye starting to swell shut. His breathing was shallow and labored and his usual aloof expression was replaced by a vacancy that Regent had seen one too many times on the faces of men he had lost.

“You’re going to be just fine, Byte.”

Regent’s voice and hands were steady as he pulled out a patch from his kit. Their extraction was still ten minutes out and that would be too long for the kid if he did not act now.

The moment he put pressure on the gaping wound, Castor screamed and pushed at his arms, trying to get the pain and pressure to stop.

“I know, son. I know it hurts. Don’t fight me.”

Regent braced himself as he weathered the clawing at his arms and hands and tried to shut out the anguished cries and sobs of the eighteen-year-old.

From the corner of his eye he saw Fenrir kneeling across from him to firmly hold Castor down and restrain his arms, a gesture that Castor was too weak to break out of, but that only seemed to panic him further. A necessary evil, and one that he hopefully would not remember if he made it through this.

“I’ve got eyes on extract, Regent!”

Glitch’s voice came through their linked comms as her mech remained positioned over them, shielding her Lancemates from any enemy fire that may be directed their way by unexpected backup.

“Good. Make sure they know to have a medic ready to stabilize Byte.”

Regent glanced at Castor’s pained expression and looked away again quickly. Too young.

The roar of thrusters and the kicking up of dust in a hot wind alerted him to the arrival and landing of the extract ship, but he did not move away from Castor’s side until the medic team had reached them with a stretched and set about bringing Castor into the ship.

Regent walked with them, briefing the head medic on what sorts of injuries they were dealing with as they began getting Castor stabilized, hooking him up to several IV drips, preparing a blood transfusion, and placing an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

Just as Regent was preparing to leave to check in with the rest of his Lance, he felt a hand weakly grab at his wrist and looked down into scared brown eyes that were struggling to remain open as a sedative in one of his IV drips began taking effect.

Just a scared kid. It was so easy to forget that.

Regent slowly reached for a chair and pulled it up to sit by the ship’s attempt at a hospital bed, moving to grasp Castor’s hand firmly between both of his.

“It’s okay to sleep, son. You need the rest.”

He watched as Castor’s eyes continued to fight to stay open and he squeezed the boy’s hand.

“You’ll wake up in a few hours. I promise.”

There was a weak squeeze of his hand in return and Regent’s usually neutral expression cracked a tired but warm smile. Castor’s eyes slid shut and this time did not reopen. His labored breathing eased a little and Regent watched in solemn silence.

The debrief could wait until they were back at L.E.I.D.A.

[postgamecontent]

Ninja Spirit (TG-16 Mini)

Man, Ninja Spirit is just cool.

I'm tempted to just leave it there, but that's not much of an article, is it? I don't know why Irem only ever ported this game to two consoles back in the day, and why the only other one was the Game Boy. Maybe this TurboGrafx-16 version was just so perfect that Irem felt there was no need for more ports? This was the version of Ninja Spirit I played first, as I never saw the arcade machine around. I've since gotten the Arcade Archives version on my Switch, and having spent a fair bit of time with the original I have to commend Irem on how well it managed to port the game. Outside of some flicker now and then, most wouldn't know which version they were playing unless they had them side by side.

I also think the PC Engine Mode is a nice addition. It allows you to take a few hits from weaker enemies and flattens out the difficulty curve in the early game. Those who want the higher challenge of the arcade original can simply change the setting and go. I don't think the game is especially hand-holdy either way, so go with whatever feels right for you.

Anyway, back to how cool this game is. You get access to four different weapons right off the hop, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. You can power those weapons up, and they're all very nifty when you do so. Some of the weapons can block enemy attacks, and that's awesome. You can also get shadows following you, and they'll attack when you do. The amount of destructive power you can lay down in this game is wild, but you're still very vulnerable thanks to how much opposition you'll face. It's a hard line to walk, making the player feel like a massive killing machine while also making them understand they can be felled with one wrong move. Irem doesn't usually get it right, but it sure did here.

I'm glad Konami included this very cool game on the TG-16 Mini. This is a great port of the game and since it didn't hit the other 16-bit consoles, it feels very much of this system to me. It's one of my favorite games on this mini-console, and given the quality of the line-up, that is saying something.

[nijjhar]

Matt 2v13-18:- Christ Jesus came among spiritually sick Jews outwardly a... Matt 2v13-18:- Christ Jesus came among the spiritually sick Jews outwardly and they wanted to kill Him. https://youtu.be/ng6Ys7pvh2w I am making this video unlisted to avoid a strike from YouTube. Send me your email and I will send you the link. Holy Gospel of our Supernatural Father of our “souls” Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., delivered by the first Anointed Christ, which in Punjabi we call Satguru Jesus of the highest living God Elohim that dwells within His most beautiful living Temple of God created by the greatest artist demiurge potter, the lord of the Nature Yahweh, Brahma, Khudah, etc. and it is called Harmandir or “Emmanuel” if you are not “greedy” according to Saint Matthew 2,13-18. When the Magi had departed, behold, the Angel of the lord Yahweh appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, "Rise, take the child and his mother, flee to Egypt, the Land of the “Ever” faithful Elder Son of Abraham and stay there until I tell you. Herod is going to search for the child to destroy him at the behest of the “Saltless” crook sons of Isaac." Joseph rose and took the child and his mother by night and departed for Egypt. The unfaithful to Abraham and Yahweh, the “Saltless” sons of Isaac were the staunch enemy of Christ Jesus because He would set up the Royal Roving Priests to Preach the Gospel Truth = Oral Torah, the Taproot of the Tree of Life, the Scriptures from their hearts to the twice-born adults replacing the corrupted Scriptures. But the Temple Priests loved the corrupted Old Testament to fleece the Gentiles. Gen 17 on circumcision, the tribal mark of Abraham to Isaac and his “seed” only. He stayed there until the death of Herod, that what the lord of the Nature Yahweh had said through the Prophet might be fulfilled, "Out of Egypt I called my Son." When Herod realized that he had been deceived by the Magi, he became furious that when Christ comes, He will replace the brick built temple with the living Temple of God, our physical Body and no source of income. He ordered the massacre of all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had ascertained from the Magi. then was fulfilled what had been said through Jeremiah the Prophet: a voice was heard in Ramah, sobbing and loud lamentation; Rachel weeping for her children, and she would not be consoled, since they were no more. Christ Rajinder:- The Middle Candle of the Menorah called “Shams = Sun” of our Supernatural Father Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc. is raised above the other six of the Demiurge Potter Yahweh in honour of Christ Jesus, the Lord of Sabbath or the Lord of lord Yahweh. The hypocritical Messianic Jews, the legacy of the Temple Priests who were sacked after the destruction of the Temple in 70 A.D. and they were fit for no other job than the ruling job of the Priests still kept the Middle Candle of Elohim, Shams, at the same level as the other six of Yahweh that Messiah has not come yet. In these Messianic Jews is fulfilled Matt 12v43-45 making the situation worse than before the arrival of Christ Jesus and they killed the Christianity of “Freedom” by creating the antichrist Pope and his hireling Dog-Collared stooges who suppressed the people worse than the Temple Priests from the hard yoke of rituals (Mary Magdalene got rid of the seven demons of Menorah) our Anointed Elder Brother and Bridegroom Christ Jesus who had set us “FREE” of the rituals. Why Jesus was given the name “Yahshua”? Hi Brethren, I hail from Punjab where the Second Coming of Jesus in the name of Satguru = Christ Nanak took place in 1469. I am a retired lecturer in metallurgy and studied the New Testament in 1983 and wrote the expositions of the Parable of Matthew in honour of my late father Chaudhry Udham Nijjhar, B.Sc., retired Science Master who died in 1981 in Ghana where I was a Senior Lecturer in Metallurgy at KNUST, Kumasi. Since then, I have found the New Testament very interesting and in 1993, I published a book; "First Gnostic Principles of One God One Faith", which is available on the internet. In 2008, I started Preaching the Gospel on YouTube and so far I have 8700 videos on different religious topics; channel One God One Faith. Here is a taster; why was Jesus given the name "Yahshua"? Jesus' Hebrew name "Yahshua" is made up of two words; Yah = Yahweh and Shua = Shiva = Primordial Adam. Thus, Mary was “Sired” by Yahweh in Hebrew, Brahma in Hindi and Khudah in Arabic, the demiurge lord of the visible creation and our demiurge father, Potter, in heaven of the tribal sons, whom you can see in his creation with two naked eyes, and Angel John, the Baptist, Prophet Elijah (my god is Yahweh, Brahma, Khuda, etc., the heavenly father of Jesus) baptized Jesus in the name of his heavenly father “Yahweh,” and the repentant Jewish men of age their tribal forefather Abraham. Thus, Mary was a Surrogate Mother and Joseph from the tribe of Judah through the line of King David, his adoptive foster father. ..................

[maguro13-2]

Miku.EXE : The Resurrection Pt.5 (2/2)

[Majo Detective Agency - Salem MA]

Salem Secretary (via speaker) : Mrs. Ashley, I have the status report on the incident. Early this morning, the fictional megatropolis in the American state of Nevada, was completely annihilated in an Enemy's attack. Thankfully, it wasn't us that was our involvement with the Kusakabe Legacy, we have confirmed that Shinra's son Shinigami was perished in the assault of the assassin.

Ashley : Hmm...sounds like this Shinigami character was really the son of the devil that has spreading lies across the globe, and killed by a so-called "God" that has been spreading truth from Mother of Maka Albarn. That means one of the Creepypasta legends has somehow fathered a human daughter which looks alike the virtual singer. It's probably EXE's data.

Salem Secretary (via speaker) : Someone's data? Is it truly EXE data?

Ashley : Hmm...I'll make an opinion for that one. I'll be on my way to solve any cases if necessary ineeded to be done. I will get to the bottom of this, but tell Maba to follow this God's progress closely as possible!

Salem Secretary : Affirmative. We'll make sure that all of our world's mainframes will never be compromised.

Ashley : Good, Ashley out. So that "thing" is destroying or planning to have the desire for conquest as a "God". More importantly, I better know something if there creepypasta legends have fathered a "daughter", but the thing is the Gorgon Sisters are worried if they still putting a Destruction with their lust on god's. Only demon kings know that demons can't be gods. Unless...(presses speaker button)

Red the Demon (via Speaker) : Yes, Ashley? How can I help you?

Ashley : Red. Get yourself ready, we got a case of emergency. This new case is on the heat. There is a "God" that is going Rampant throughout world. I've got an old friend to contact.

(cuts to Ashley and Red walking at downtown)

Red the Demon : You mean a girl who looks alike that Virtual singer who's going nuts on destroying the whole world? That sounds like a real bad thing of what's gonna happen to this situation.

Ashley : Indeed. Which is why are needed to be careful with our moves. If this "God" wants to bring chaos and Destruction, then i'm ready for her to come face-fo-face with the witches.

Red the Demon : Correct. So how was your little time with Penny?

Ashley : Well, on the occasion, I only wanted someone to give myself a little service to clean my "soles". So I asked Penny to do it in a proper way. Which was my consolation prize about 4 years ago.

Red the Demon : Please, pretend you did not just say that. And your consolation prize from four years meaning "Still an assist trophy"? That's some sad news with your consolation prize consider of making penny licking your feet like a dog.

Ashley : Not if I was keeping it as secret, and that my consolation prize was already by Penny after Nintendo failed me! So I lost to those guys and never came back to Smash. you best that youb would never tell anyone I have consolation prize at home, or I'm gonna keep that mouth of yours shut. Understand?

Red the Demon : Understand, ma'am. It's time that we are going into contact. Let's be prepared. (People exclaiming are heard) Hey, Ash'. Get a load of this. Someone told that a unknown witch has survived the Enemy's raid. It's best that our rescue team has secured the survivors. I bet it's even your partner who survive the attack! Come on! (The two runs off)

[Brief Relief - Jun Senoue]

Ashley : Kimial...Kimial Diehl. Respond. (Kimial wakes up in Ashley's bed) Kimial, you are awake. Good thing we managed to rescue you.

Red the Demon : How many fingers am I holding up?

Ashley : Kimial, what happened backed there. You've going undercover for way too long.

Kim Diehl : Sorry that I was in bit of a pickle after going undercover. Ever since we stopped the Gorgon Sisters who got us witches involved of the Kusakabe Legacy, and for that matters, what about the people of Nevada? Everything was fine in the state until that "Girl" has destroyed everyone including Shinra's "son".

Ashley : Secretary called and we had an issue that the city you were residing at was annihilated in the enemy's attack. The suspect has wiped out it's population including those who trained at the school was completely destroyed. This is the real world that we are living in, not a fictional universe created by your author. Guess that man was nuts of making those "crazy stories" of his. I'm sure Nevada in the real world is only at it's ordinary self.

[Scenario : Deadlock - Fumie Kumatani]

Kim Diehl : I see. I guess, it was pointless to become a hero after all, but for Jacqueline, what about her? Where could have my girlfriend gone to? Where will she live?! Tell me if she's okay?! If she died as a weapon or a human, I...I promise I would stay by her side! No matter what the damages costs! So you're willing me to become a hero again, is that what I think it is? Do you?

Ashley : Oh, rookie. You only got yourself in the deep end. This time, I'll make sure that Jacqueline's okay with me, and then we'll team up together and solve this new case that is close to our tails. Should we agree if we let you back in the force, friend?

Kimial : You got! As long as I continue to fight and to protect those that I dearly loved, you can count on me... Ashley.

Ashley : Then I appreciate that to you. (Handshakes firmly) Welcome back, partner.

~ THE WITCHES OF JUSTICE ARE HERE! ~

[aleburton]

fuckzachariah​:

Was it possible to regret an act simultaneous to indulging in it? Zach, it seemed, was hellbent on finding out. He should know better than anyone - it’s all fun and games until it’s not. He didn’t  have to push her far for her to pluck on the exact strings to make him sing out of tune, and his expression soured at her turn of phrase. Drug fiend. It stung; a needle of a blade stuck between his third and fourth rib. More than her comfortability calling his problem to attention, it was that she thought it at all. It didn’t take much; a word, maybe two; for other’s exceptionally low opinions of him to bubble to the surface. And he certainly had no qualms in lighting that fire beneath them. But it hurt all the same. He turned away, fleshy inner of his cheek sorely clamped between teeth, and instead turned to come face to face with the city. It was like biting down on nausea not to retaliate, but he tried to cling to those reigns regardless. If he reacted, he’d give it all up. And if he gave it all up a dam would break. And nobody, not even Alex, could stop that flood. 

It had come and gone in a flash; without the drugs, his stamina for whatever he’d started waned rapidly. Zach rolled his eyes, a half-hearted laugh stifled in his throat. “Right, I cockblocked you. Because you so famously jump into bed on the first date.” Though he continued, it was evident in his glib tone, his heart was no longer in it. He tossed the cigarette butt over the balcony, dying ash hurtling to the ground below, fizzling cold on its way down. “Or, sorry, I forgot. That’s only with me.” She made a face at him, one that would usually provoke, but instead he lazily pushed off from the wall. “Sure,” he deadpanned, shouldering into her as he passed. “We can be done.” It was childish, he knew, but at this point he’d abandoned all logical thought. Or any forethought at all. Whatever felt good in the moment, even if it was nauseating to swallow immediately after, he’d do. He wished he’d come out here and been honest from the start - he wanted to be away from all this, the party, somewhere quiet and dark with less reminders of everything fucked up everywhere, bury himself in something distracting like listening to her tell some pointless story from her high school years or her laugh at a late night sitcom. And the only place that was possible right now was her suite. His was ruined. Like everything else that was his.

He planted hard in the chair Isaaq had previously occupied. Zach rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he banished the memory of him, of how he looked at Alex, and tried to take a deep breath. “Well, no, actually. I guess it depends. How miserable did I make you - scale of one to ten?” He grumbled sarcastically, lifelessly, into his palms. He pulled his hands away and leaned back into the seat. His eyes rolled over her. It was funny, sometimes, how readily he destroyed good things. Just like his fucking mother. He could almost laugh aloud, looking at Alex now, knowing how everything in him thrummed from the sight of her alone. And how she stood to look back at him, irritated and standoffish, and he’d meant to make her that way. Fucking incredible, he thought. “Or do I still have some work left to do?”

Zach was quick to counter, murmuring an embittered statement as he flicked the nub of his cigarette over the balcony railing. It promoted laughter, snide and taunting in nature, loud enough to nearly overwhelm the sound of his voice as he spoke mid-sentence. “Oh, you weren’t cockblocking me. You were cockblocking him. And I would hardly call this a first date.” Even her in her virulent disposition, she repressed all that she was capable of for his sake. Surely, he understood that she could be far worse. If he was going to wrongly accuse her of misbehaving, she would seek retribution one way or another. Rubbing Isaaq’s undeniable infatuation with her seemed sufficient. He moved past, the force from his body nudging into hers causing her toddle on her heels. Alex huffed softly, thwarting the intrinsic desire to respond physically. Her patience was thinning. She pivoted, watching as he sunk into the cushioned chair.

We can be done. It sounded like permission to leave. She stepped forward, preparing to slip away. She would find peace in her own suite and avoid absorbing the blows he felt she deserved. A living, breathing emotional punching bag. Zach continued, however. Another sarcastic remark to string out their exchange. Hadn’t he had enough for the evening? Or was it now his master plan to completely self-destruct? Alex shook her head, lifting a hand to sweep the tendrils that clung to the sides of her face. Her eyes drifted against the length of his body as it slumped in the chair. There was judgement. She could not even pretend to conceal her disappointment. She hadn’t expected this from him. Or at least, not so soon. Day one of his tour and she was already questioning her decision to accompany him. He made it so difficult for her to want to be around him, to console him when he was this insufferable.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You just decided to make me public enemy number one or what? All of this is my fault now?” His mother bulldozing his memorable night. The friends that occupied his suite, sneaking debarred substances in the various corners of the room. Isaaq making her eyes at her – something any heterosexual man would and had done innumerable times before. “It’s not even been 24 hours and we’re doing this? Really?”   

[shuunnico]

With the TLOU1 Remake

I feel like I can bring up my lament on the games industry and their obsession with graphics (spurred on by gamers overall and their obsession with graphics).

Each console cycle, we see more graphical improvements. But the Last of Us remake, it just shows that this has serious diminishing returns (and has for the last couple console gens).

FIFA’s a good benchmark because it releases every year. The red outlines indicate a new console release that year. This is the same person each year. (I missed 2017).

You can see the dramatic diminishing returns with each new iteration. From 2013 onwards you can see a dramatic shortening in the jumps in graphical upgrades. By 2018, this shortens again.

This is because what as the polygons increase, the addition of new polygons becomes relatively smaller. A model with 10 polygons sees a major jump to 20 polygons, 100%. But a jump of 10,000 polygons in a 100,000 polygon model is only a 10% bump.

This fixation on hyper-realistic graphics is pushing consoles to be bigger and better, while the idea of expanding other technical aspects of games go unexplored. To me, the fact that games AI has largely stayed the same for a decade is disappointing. 

To this day, NPCs will charge you with a knife from yards away, in a straight line, because their AI is just figuring out the shortest path to you and thinks of nothing else.

Enemies will funnel themselves into doors or halls without thinking because all their AI considers is if they have line of sight. So waves upon waves of NPCs will walk through doors, one at a time, and get shot like targets on a wall.

This AI has largely remained unchanged since Half-Life 2.

Sure, AI is hard to market while graphics are easier. So what about, instead of using improved hardware to update graphics again, instead focus on things like destructible environments. And not just the “oh, your cover degrades,” but making buildings and terrain show signs of damage in real time, rather than just slapping bullet decals on a wall when you shoot it.

What about sound? What about improving the way sound travels in areas and through objects? This would dramatically change how stealth operates.

What about clothing physics, so clipping is heavily diminished. Instead of a ribbon clipping through your character’s shoulder, have it interact with the model instead.

For the longest time, video games often ‘cheated’ by creating illusions to simulate real effects. Wall damage isn’t your bullet leaving a hole, it’s a decal on a still flat surface. Your footsteps aren’t actually creating sound, it’s just a sphere around you that gets bigger or smaller depending on variables. Mirrors don’t reflect, they’re just transparent walls looking into a cloned room with cloned NPCs. Rain is just a series filters, which is why standing under an awning or tree doesn’t stop your character from getting wet.

For a long time we could’ve been moving out of the realm of ‘cheats’ and, instead, improving these things to make them behave more realistically. But, instead, the budgets go to graphical improvements (and other things I don’t feel warrant the price tag).

I really wish gamers and the industry stopped venerating graphics to the degree they do. The TLOU Remastered looks fine. If you’re going to remake a game, do it for a game that actually needs a graphical update (if you must).

[writeshite]

Leave The Bad Memories Behind

Summary:

The Doctor hadn’t said much on the matter, having disappeared as soon as you were away from Van Statten’s collection, his expression pinched. You'd briefly reached out to him, but he’d brushed you off with a less than convincing smile and twaddled off elsewhere into the TARDIS.

Pairings:

Ninth Doctor x Gender Neutral!Reader

Words: 837

Tags:

Comfort | Mentions of the Time War

Author's Note:

I'm back at it with some more Ninth Doctor fic, I was rewatching Doctor Who again, and the Dalek episode in Season 1 is just so ✨ chef's kiss✨ and it gave me an excuse to try my hand at some Time War angst.

You could faintly hear Rose’s excited giggles as she strung Adam into the TARDIS, the occasional impossible flying from the young man’s mouth as he awed at everything. You chuckled to yourself, happy that at least one among you was delighted; you leaned against the console, head tilted up as your thoughts ran wild. Seeing a Dalek again was not a fun experience; even with its self-destruction, you felt no closure. The Doctor hadn’t said much on the matter, having disappeared as soon as you were away from Van Statten’s collection, his expression pinched. You'd briefly reached out to him, but he’d brushed you off with a less than convincing smile and twaddled off elsewhere into the TARDIS. 

You softly ran your hand along the TARDIS controls, thoughts drifting; a part of you felt like the scared little Timetot all those centuries ago - shrouded in their blankets, silently praying the Daleks were a bad dream. The other part, the deranged soldier acting under the guise of a professor, scouring the Daleks for every weakness until you’d near driven yourself mad - every waking hour obsessed with learning how the enemy ticked. Your old coat still hung somewhere deep in your closet, the burn marks as hot as they’d always been, pockets stashes with as many little advantages as you could build. You’d enjoyed the cackling the most, the mad cackling that bubbled from your throat - scared your fellow soldiers half to death once. The TARDIS’s soft presence in your mind kicked the memories back, her wild beeping drawing you out from your mind. You patted her in thanks before striding away in search of your madman. 

The TARDIS halls twisted; you paid them no mind until they redirected you back to the console room - he didn’t want to talk about it; you would leave him to it, but leaving the Doctor to stew in his mind like that is never good. You tried again; the walls twisted like before; it took some effort to deter them until they grew tired of this mental tug of war. The TARDIS beeps echoed, almost exhausted, the final wall turned away, and you found yourself at a door. The door was old, wooden-like, its edges curved in circular patterns; you placed your hand on the door handle, breathing in deep, and stepped in with trepidation. You hadn’t been back in this room in a long while; quite frankly, you’d hoped the Doctor had scraped it away like the others.

The soft light inside cast a harsh shadow over the Doctor; he’d tucked himself away under the book arch, his body hugged close. He’d shed his jacket and tossed it on the antique desk; in its place, he’d draped the large wool blanket over his shoulders - which shook now and again. You closed the door softly, doing your best to keep your gaze away from the rest of the room; you sat down by him. 

“I didn’t think I’d find you here,” you whispered, hugging your knees. The Doctor’s head rose slightly; he turned to you, eyes rimmed red, “I hoped you’d be in the atrium, or the library, just not here.” 

He wiped at his eyes, gaze bouncing over the room; the room in question was more or less a storage room. Everything you’d both collected from Gallifrey over the years usually ended up here; most of it was from the Academy, some from your families. Judging by the mess and dust in the room, no one had bothered to come in here for a while, not that you’d been signing up to do so. A few of the things here brought back memories that tugged at your hearts’ strings. 

“What if there are more Daleks out there?”

“What?” you turned to the Doctor; his eyes were unfocused, gazing down at his hands as they shook.

“What if I destroyed Gallifrey for nothing? Oh, Rassilon…they….” He stopped speaking, eyes downcast at his shaking hands; you shifted, moving the blanket aside enough to squeeze in. He turned to you, hiding his face in your shoulder, his breaths ragged as you stroked his back. 

“You heard that Dalek; it sensed no other Daleks anywhere, which means you didn’t destroy Gallifrey for nothing.” You took his face into your hands, holding his gaze as you repeated the statement, then directing him to mimic your breathing until his hearts were appeased. “There we go, darling, feeling better?”

He shook his head, looking away with a sad smile, “Sorry.”

“That’s alright; I’m not feeling so good either, how about we take the rest of the day off? I’m sure Rose can keep, what’s his name, Adam busy for a couple of hours.” He nodded at your suggestion. “We could head back to our room.”

“Maybe later,” he responded, shifting closer to you; you moved to get yourself comfortable, leaning back against the wall, the Doctor spread half on you, half on the floor. “Maybe later,” he responded, shifting closer to you; you moved to get yourself comfortable, leaning back against the wall, the Doctor spread half on you, half on the floor. You hummed to yourself, hand lightly scratching through his buzzcut as you drifted off. 

End Note:

Personally, I headcanon that Timelords shape TARDIS interiors subconsciously, so the Doctor being in a sad mood will shape them to keep people away.

[bi-bard]

The Savior Fails - Ninth Doctor Imagine (Doctor Who)

Title: The Savior Fails

Pairing: Ninth Doctor X Reader

Word Count: 3,323 words

Warning(s): war crime (The Doctor committed a war crime, sorry), destruction of a planet

Summary: (Pre-Show) The Savior was trained to protect their world, rescue their people. No one warned them that their enemy would be one of their own.

Author's Note: A few months ago, I decided that I wanted to rewrite a series from my Wattpad days. It was a Doctor Who fanfiction that was meant to go episode by episode. It was called The Story of the Savior.

Due to some personal reasons, it never got redone. Well, a few chapters did, but not much. However, I had plot points planned. Big moments in this character's life.

Now, The Savior is going to serve as one of my OCs. Mostly so I can jump around seasons more than originally planned.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

------------------------------

I never knew how my purpose was going to manifest.

I was just told that I had a destiny far greater than myself.

I spent my childhood being told to be ready for anything. Training and preparing. My life was preparing to be a weapon.

When the war started, I thought my purpose had finally become clear.

Fight the Daleks.

Nothing was ever going to be that simple.

I was being dragged through grand halls without anyone answering my questions. All I had been told was that my time had come. It was my time to fulfill the destiny designed for me. No one would tell me who I was going to be fighting.

"You've been trained for this," was the last thing that I'd been told before a weapon was placed in my hand and I was sent away from the place that I had called home.

I spun around when my surroundings changed.

I was in the middle of the desert. There was a blue box next to me. What was a TARDIS doing out here? Why hadn't it tried to change to fit into its environment?

I spotted a hut in the distance.

My boots dug into the sand as I took off running to the building.

I slammed the door open and pointed the gun at the figure inside.

"Identify yourself," I said when I saw that it wasn't a Dalek.

"The Doctor," he replied. He sounded disconnected, lost in thought.

I was stunned.

"I know you," I mumbled. "Why did they send me to you?"

"Perhaps it was for this," he stepped out of the way to reveal something that I had only heard stories about.

"The Moment," I asked. There was a moment of silence. "You're going to destroy the planet."

"The planet was destroyed when the war began."

"Do you have any idea how many people are going to die?"

"Far less than the amount if this war continues," he turned back to the weapon.

"If you step closer to that button, then I will have to kill you," I said.

"I'm sorry," he replied simply before pointing his sonic screwdriver back at me.

I gasped as the gun sparked, now useless.

I went to run over to stop him, but the Doctor pressed the button down before I could stop him.

"No!"

He grabbed my arm, dragging me out.

I continued fighting him the entire time.

I was shoved into the TARDIS that I had found before confronting the Doctor. I went to run out, but the Doctor shoved me back again.

"I am not just leaving," I shouted as he walked up to the console.

With the pull of a lever, we were gone. I pulled the door open. All I saw was space. No Gallifrey. No war. Nothing. It was just empty space around me.

I closed the door and turned around.

The gold energy started surrounding the Doctor. I closed my eyes and turned my head as he regenerated in front of me.

After hearing the loud wave pass, I opened my eyes.

He was younger now. And taller.

Short hair and an angrier face. If that made any sense.

"You selfish coward," I shouted, not holding back my anger. "You absolute monster! Take me back!"

"There's nothing to go back to."

"That's my home! It was my job to save them!"

"There was nothing you could do."

"Then I deserve to burn with them!"

"No, you really don't," the Doctor said bluntly before turning to the console again.

I grabbed the railing as the ship started shaking. It only lasted for a few moments.

I stormed out as soon as we landed.

We were in a large field. Just grass for as far as the eye could see.

"Hey!"

I continued walking, ignoring the Doctor yelling at me.

"Savior, just listen," he continued following me.

"No," I shouted over my shoulder. "Go away!"

"Come back, you have no idea where you are."

"I would rather be anywhere other than with you!"

I heard him groan behind me.

"I'm not going to abandon you here!"

I turned around as I continued walking.

"I don't want anything to do with you! You destroyed everything I have ever known! You may be able to just run away from all of your problems, but Gallifrey was all I- AHH!"

I suddenly felt the ground come out from under me. I was waiting to hit the ground hard.

But I didn't.

I looked up to find the Doctor holding my forearm. I looked down under me. There was a metal walkway underneath me. This wasn't a random hole in the ground. There was something living down there.

"Hold on," the Doctor said, pulling me up. "I've got you."

I grabbed his arm with my other hand and let him lift me up.

"There's something down there," I said as I got my footing back. "What planet did you land on?"

"I didn't really specify," he scratched the back of his neck.

"That's a perfectly safe way to travel," I said sarcastically. "What's the point of making sure that you aren't going to die when you step through the door?"

"You're the one that stormed out!"

"Because you destroyed my home and I assumed you did a basic check!"

"Imagine how boring life would be!"

"Shut up," I dragged my hands down my face. "Help me back down."

"You're joking."

"You're the one who wants life to be exciting," I shrugged. I held my hands out. "Help me down."

He let out a sigh before grabbing my hands and helping me lower myself onto the metal walkway.

He dropped down behind me after I had taken a few steps forward.

"What are we looking-"

I put a hand over the Doctor's mouth when I heard a noise down the pathway. There was no real light. I pushed him toward the side and held a finger up toward my lips.

I held my breath as I heard a clicking noise down the path. The Doctor copied me.

The clicking got louder until I heard sniffing and clicking right behind my head. I kept my eyes squeezed shut.

As the clicking disappeared, I moved my hand from the Doctor's mouth.

I started walking in the same direction as before.

"I thought those were extinct," I muttered.

The Doctor stopped me and handed me a flashlight. I kept it aimed at the ground.

"You know what's here," the Doctor asked.

I nodded.

I felt him looking at the back of my head, "Part of my training back home was studying different species. It was my favorite part."

"So... what are they?"

"Strehls," I explained. "They're like evolved, underground creatures. Pale because of the lack of sunlight and blind because they have no use for the light. They rely on echolocation. Still, they're incredibly developed. They can build things and create things. They tend to stick to themselves. They only attack when provoked."

"And we're walking into their home," the Doctor asked.

"You're the one that said knowing what would happen was boring."

"You can't just twist my words like that-"

"You don't get to tell me what I can't do," I cringed a little when my foot landed in a small puddle. "You're the only reason either one of us is here."

"You know why-"

"Shut up," I said, catching sight of a small hole. I aimed the flashlight at it. "Is that a pipe?"

"Yeah," the Doctor walked around me and reached for it. "It's what's causing the water here."

"This species is known for living strictly underground. They wouldn't need a pipe from the surface."

"We need to follow it."

I nodded.

We carefully made it back to the hole and got back out of the caves.

The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. He held it toward the ground and started following where it led him.

I don't know how long we walked before we caught sight of a city. I took off running. The Doctor followed close behind me.

"Can you find the main source of the pipes," I asked as we made it to- what seemed like- the center of the city.

"I think so," he muttered, pointing the sonic screwdriver straight down. "They're flooding them."

"Really," I asked.

"The pipes from the city all converge here," the Doctor pointed at a few buildings and then below our feet. "But then there are pipes going out of the city."

"All of the dirty water goes straight into the Strehls' home," I concluded. "It'll drive them to the surface or further down."

We looked around at the people lining the streets. Humanoid, but I had no proof of them being human.

"You said the Strehls only attack when provoked-"

"If you're going to ask if they'll be provoked," I cut him off, "the answer's yes."

"We need to find someone in charge," the Doctor suggested, looking around.

"Big mansion," I asked, pointing to the large building just down the road.

"Big mansion," he nodded, grabbing my hand and pulling me along with him. As we made our way up the steps, I pulled my hand away from him.

He sighed quietly. What else was he expecting?

"Excuse me," he plastered a smile on his face and reached into his pocket as we approached the main desk. He flipped open a badge and held it out to her. "Here to visit the boss."

"Oh, of course," the receptionist nodded at both of us and led us to the grand staircase in the back. "Just go up and to the right. You can't miss his office."

"Thank you," the Doctor replied. I nodded as a silent thank you.

"Psychic paper," I asked. He nodded. I grabbed the paper from him. "I always wanted psychic paper. They never saw it being useful for me."

"I'll get you some," he said as he took it back. "Could be helpful."

We walked to the large office in silence. We pushed the doors open to see a man by a large window. There was a drink in his hand, and he was smiling down at his city.

"Hello," the Doctor greeted.

"Who are you two," the man's smile turned into a confused face when he saw us.

"We're..."

"Plummers," I answered.

"Plummers," the Doctor said in a questioning tone before immediately repeating himself in a happy tone, "Plummers."

"Okay," the man dragged out the word a little bit. He motioned toward the Doctor, "That explains why you're dressed like... that."

The Doctor looked down at his clothes.

He hadn't changed since we left Gallifrey, even after he had regenerated. His clothes were a little smaller now, still dirty because of the sand.

"You look great, my dear," I cringed a little at the compliment.

"Don't they just," the Doctor replied quickly before stepping forward. "You're in danger."

"Excuse me," the man stepped back from the Doctor.

"Your city's pipes are leaking-"

"Into abandoned tunnels," he cut me off.

I clenched my jaw for a moment before continuing, "They aren't abandoned. There's an entire species down there. They are peaceful and advanced-"

"They've been extinct for years-"

"As someone who just came across one, no they aren't," I snapped. "They don't attack unless you provoke them, and you are drowning them!"

"We've had the same network for years-"

There was a loud scream that interrupted him.

We all jogged to the window.

"Are you going to listen to us now," I asked, looking down at the street, now crawling with Strehls.

"What the hell-"

There was a loud noise as the Strehls crashed through the door of the mansion.

"You drowned them out of their home," I explained. "Now, they have to find a new place to survive."

"We were doing what was best," he tried to argue.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the translator off of my belt. Without another word, I took off back toward the stairs we had originally taken up to the office.

"Savior!"

"Don't call me that!"

I stopped at the landing when I could see the main floor clearly. I spoke into the translator.

"Hey!"

I played the translation. A series of long and short clicks.

The Strehls in the room stopped and looked at me.

The Doctor ran down behind me, stopping when he saw the chaos had done.

"I understand you're angry," I said. I paused between each sentence to let the translator do its work. "But there are ways to work through this. If you stop the violence now, we can arrange a meeting with the city's leader. Please."

One of the Strehls walked forward, stopping very close to the staircase. I walked down far enough to reach out and let the translator reach them.

"We will call off the violence if they will end the flooding," came out of the speaker.

"We will do everything in our power to protect your home," I promised.

There was clicking between the Strehls in the building before one on the from steps let out a loud roar. All of the chaos outside stopped. They had kept their end of the deal.

"Can I guide you to the leader's office," I asked.

Once I got a positive response, I reached down and grabbed their hand. I slowly led them up the stairs and back to the main office that we had been in.

The Doctor was just following me.

I motioned for the man to sit down at his desk. I led the Strehl to a seat across from him.

I set the translator down on the desk.

"You can talk to them now," I explained quietly. "It'll translate both ways. Just make sure to pause in between sentences."

He nodded before looking at the Strehl.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, pausing to listen to the clicks. "I owe you and your people an apology."

"Why did you want to drown us," they asked.

"We were too stupid to see beyond what was best for us. We believed that your kind had gone extinct."

I looked over at the Doctor, who was also watching the scene unfold. He looked so focused on the conversation. He was waiting in fear of the conversation going wrong.

"We want to help clear the water from your home," the leader said. "We just need help with a solution."

"We can use your water," the Strehl replied. "But we will not be left to clean your mess alone."

"We can find a way to clean the water going through and clean the mess we've already made."

"I think that's our queue," the Doctor mumbled in my ear before starting to walk out.

I looked at the two creatures in front of me, shocked that he had waltzed out like that.

"Please don't be idiots," I begged. "Find a balance. You both can be happy. There's no reason for a war to come out of this."

"We have no intentions of fighting," the Strehl promised.

"Neither do we," the leader agreed.

I grinned at them, "Good luck."

I went to leave.

"Your translator!"

I looked back at the leader, "Keep it. You'll need it far more than me."

I continued my path out. The Doctor was waiting for me at the top of the stairs.

I sighed, looking down. I just walked past him. I still couldn't see anything beyond what he had done. It left a gross feeling in my stomach and made my head hurt.

I barely registered that we got back to the TARDIS. The Doctor walked in with no trouble, but I stopped outside.

"Are you coming," the Doctor asked, walking so he was waiting in the doorway.

"I don't... I don't know," I muttered.

"We're the only ones left," he said. I clenched my jaw. "Which I know is my fault."

I looked down.

"I would rather know that the two of us are together," he continued. "I would probably go crazy if I didn't know that you were alright. And believe me, I've got enough madness up here."

I glared at his attempt at a joke.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I do think we make a good team. And I would never feel right just leaving you here. Come with me. I need someone to slap me over the head every once in a while."

My gaze softened.

"And if you do, you can see all of those creatures you spent so long studying."

I looked around for a moment and then nodded.

"Really," the Doctor asked, grinning a little. I nodded again. "Well, come on then."

I held back the chuckle as I followed him inside.

"I'm going to change," the Doctor said before pointing behind him. "Go down that hall and you'll find... something. It's a bit of a maze, but I'm sure something will work for you."

"Alright," I nodded before heading down the hall.

"Thank you," he called behind me. I looked back. "For staying. Thank you."

I nodded once before going to continue my walk through the halls of the ship.

I found a closet through one of the doors and pulled on a new set of clothes... after finding out that there was a disinfectant mechanism in place. Which was all forms of fun.

I had pulled on some dark brown slacks rolled up slightly, a black turtleneck, a black belt, and some big black boots. I grabbed my old clothes.

"Do you have a place for my things," I asked the TARDIS quietly. A light above another door in the room glowed a little brighter. "Thank you, dear."

I walked to the extra room and smiled.

"It's perfect," I promised the ship.

It was simple. A desk, a small bed for the rare times I needed rest, a dresser, a hamper that was meant to automatically wash and dry clothes, and a bookshelf in the corner.

"Did you design this for me," I asked as I placed my fob watch into a drawer in the desk and my clothes in the hamper. The ship groaned. "It's lovely."

I opened the hamper to see the clothes were gone.

"That's... gonna take some getting used to."

I walked out to the console room as I tied my hair into a braid.

The Doctor was there, messing with a few buttons and levers. I walked up to the console, attempting to get familiar with the controls. It was an older version than I had ever seen, but I understood most of it.

"Why don't you want to be called your name," the Doctor asked after a moment.

"Hmm," I hummed, looking over at him.

"When I said your name earlier, you told me not to call you that," he explained. "Why?"

"I lost the right to that name," I replied. "I... I don't want to be called that because I failed. I was raised for one thing, and I failed it. I can't use that name anymore."

"What do you wanna be called then?"

"I... I don't know," I muttered. "Haven't gotten that far yet."

"That's alright," he said. "We'll figure it out."

I nodded and looked down.

I tried to blink back tears, but I was betrayed when I let out a quiet sob.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug. I closed my eyes tightly and wrapped my arms around him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so, so sorry."

I started shaking a little.

"I don't know how to show how sorry I am, but I'll do it," he promised. "No matter how long it takes. I will find a way to make things up to you."

I had no reason to trust or believe him. I had no reason to stand there and listen to him.

But for that moment, I did trust him.

And I was okay with trusting him.

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Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters