#the samples are decieving

[edgypea]

The worst part about spending money on audiobooks is that sometimes I accidentally buy the most dull and boring pieces of literature I've ever heard

[akutasoda]

Can I request hcs with kurapika, chrollo and feitan with a s/o who has an illusion like ability? Like they go through someone’s memory if they have a sample of their dna they can make realistic illusions and replay the same memories? Sorry if it’s too specific

illusionists

synopsis - how are they with an s/o who has nen based around illusions

includes - kurapika, chrollo, feitan

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst??, maybe ooc, wc - 605

a/n: it's not too specific! the more details the better!

kurapika kurta ★↷

↪originally, he thought you're nen was extremely dangerous. when he first met you, he became extremely wary because kurapika was uncomfortable knowing that you could easily access his memories - and he didn't trust you one bit.

↪even when he got to know you a bit more, he still couldn't bring himself to fully trust you. he had a lot of memories that could easily cause him to become vulnerable and he feared you'd use that to your advantage.

↪same went for you being able to create a realistic illusion. he didn't trust you not to trick and decieve him - especially if you were a potential spy for the spiders.

↪it took a very long time, and a lot of promises, for him to actually trust you not to decieve him.

↪and so now he can see your nen as useful and rather cool. kurapika may even ask you to help him track down the spiders but he wouldn't want you to get so involved.

↪even though he doesn't like you using your ability on him, he wouldn't mind so much if you replayed a memory of you and him - especially after a long day or on a special occasion.

chrollo lucifer ★↷

↪again, initially he saw you as a major threat - if you chose to pick the spiders as an enemy of course. although, he also saw you of great use to them if you decided to help them.

↪perhaps took the longest to fully trust you, you had alot to prove to him before he could even consider you an acquaintance. chrollo had alot he didn't want you knowing, namely protecting the spiders and his own little secrets.

↪even if you chose not to be directly connected to the spiders, you are still his partner and so sometimes he does ask you to help them out if your nen is useful for that situation.

↪chrollo makes it very clear that you are not to use your ability on him. while he does trust you to, he would just prefer you to leave his memories alone - the only exception is when he wishes to revisit a specific memory with you.

feitan portor ★↷

↪for a third time, he kept extreme caution with you when he first met you. to him, you were dangerous. to not only him but the rest of the spiders and he wasn't going to be responsible for their secrets getting out.

↪it took him a long time to fully truat you being around him yes, but probably not as long as the previous two. yes he was wary, but he had confidence that you wouldn't risk your life for a mere friendship, and more, with him.

↪he wouldn't mind if you chose not to associate with the spiders, it was your choice not his. but if you did, then he'd gladly recommend you to chrollo and you probably would have zero issues joining.

↪very rarely, if he knew you were okay with it, feitan would ask for some assistance with certain 'interrogations' - torturing people with old painful memories made it much easier to gain information. but only if you agreed.

↪he wouldn't exactly jump at the idea of letting you view his memories and such, he wouldn't be opposed to it if you asked.

[ofmoonlily]

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚈𝟽𝟶𝟶𝟶𝟶𝟶𝟷𝟶

SSD: Professor Hojo DATE: XX/XX/XXXX

Subject Name: Yunalesca; or "Yuna" as she prefers. However, I simply call her 'Subject Y' to keep conversaations short and my analysis centered. Time is of the essence! Age: 23 Height: 5'3" Eye: Heterochromia; Green right, blue left. (Perhaps the result of Ancient and human intermingling?) Weapon: Staff, or a sophisticated rod which grants the user proper focus for stronger spell casting. Equipped Materia: (Restore=All, Heal) (Aero/aera/aeroga=All) (Revive, Water/Watera/Waterga)

Biographay, or what is known thus far: Subject Y is an Ancient—or rather, "half" Ancient on the subject's biological father's side. (Does this mean Subject Y's talents only half compare to that of a full-blooded Ancient?) She was captured in tow alongside her father with willing cooperation. (ShinRa-grade firearms are quite convincing!) Subjects "Y" and "B" (B200000010; forename "Braska") thus graduated into a project witheld in my viscinity who I paired together to observe their techniques in the art of communing with the voices of the planet. Subject Y was much too young to adequately commune—a consequence of her half-bred blood? Worthless girl. Hence, Subject B allowed us to observe his talents and how the Ancient's use their gift via constructing a telepathic link. The results were fascinating!

LOG #1: A discovery! Subject Y has shown a small act of awakening. A "Planetary Guardian" (about 20 cms in length and height. Spherical. Image is foggy, almost ethereal. Dark blue with blots of inky-black saturation swirling around). "Kimahri" she's named it. A familiar, it seems. Though it was one step forward, Subject Y has shown next to nothing in her so-called talents. She's yet to forge a strong link with the planet. And yet, it gifts her a small allowance of protection to bar my data collection. Syringes labeled with the subject's code (full of a special concoction to speed up her prowess...and other samples from spliced DNA to give her that extra kick) have been misplaced or shattered by none other than the familiar itself.

After months of wasted research, a recent sighting of Ancients piqued my curiosity. Though, they were in the care of my lesser superior, I would reprimand Professor Gast for harboring his experiment and fathering a daughter with Ifalna years prior. I'll see to it I take them off of his hands, as a show of goodwill. In addition, it would do ShinRa's Science Division well to dismiss my current subjects back to their domain while running from the care of my latest creation: A SOLDIER-mutant hybrid spliced with Malboro DNA! He's quite the fiesty tentacle-weilding abomination with a taste for humanoid beings (considering a dozen of my finest infantrymen stationed to observe him have suddenly gone missing...) I hypothesize Ancient beings would suffice his appetite just as well.

LOG #2: Subjects Y and B have been disposed. END EXPERIMENT.

16 years later

A peculiar turn of events. It seems she may yet live, and with an abudence of abilities to weild. My! How she has grown! She conjures healing abilities without the use of materia! And I've noticed her competence to manifest deities—or "aeons" as she refers to them—to fight in her stead without said materia. She has finally awakened. I will get my hands onto Subject Y. Though, not to cause the specimen to become wary, I will simply discharge a few men to be my "eyes" for the time being.

LOG #3: For my next project, I shall figure out how to rip those deities from her body, and poke around their unusual forms. Perhaps mixing their DNA with fiend DNA laced with a dose of mako before returning them back into her person and observe what may happen to her pets and physical body.

Do my ears decieve me, or did Subject Y suggest the planet beckons her to give up her physical form in exchange for peace? What rubbish! Should she return to the planet there is absolutely nothing that can be done once the body is gone. And yet... there may be some underlying possibility of some phenomena we've yet to know.

Interesting! Very interesting Subject Y! I shall make arrangements to ensure her will is not to be disturbed.

Go forth and give your life to the planet, and my research!

((I'm stealing this from one of my other posts and re-doing it slightly to give a good run-down how things are going with Yunie in this realm.)

Yuna is “half ancient” on her father’s side. He was the second to last person to know all the stories and secrets about his people which he hammered into Yuna before he was killed trying to save his daughter via subjected to one of Hojo's creations.

Hojo declared Yuna worthless to his subjections because her planet spirit guardian, Kimahri, kept interfering with his work when she was young. And since he obtained a “better” specimen one day (Aerith) he “let them go”—a ploy to subject them to one last experiment: a mutated SOLDIER (and infantrymen) to chase them down and kill them.

When Braska is killed, he miraculously keeps Yuna alive by smearing her pink palid cheeks in his blood to fake her death. It was enough to deter the fiend somehow, supposedly not quite starving for flesh? Or perhaps it still retained a semblence of his humanity under all of his horrors? Nobody would know, as it would be killed and covered up sometime down the line.

Weeks go by. A retired SOLDIER named Jecht stumbles upon a malnourished young girl clinging to a decomposing body for warmth. She was in the middle of nowhere, yet the area he found her in was disturbed. There was nary a doubt in his mind ShinRa had something to do with it all. Against his better judgement, Jecht takes her in, clothes and feeds her and raises her alongside his son as if she were his own. Yuna eventually grows into a fine young woman, but her duty is calling to her… the planet is calling for her…

(She is more in-tune with her abilities now that's she's older, so she can still converse with, well, dead people. and the planet itself by simple concentration.)

One day Yuna leaves home leaving a note and implores Sir Jecht not to look for her. Unbeknownst to him, she is on a mission to protect the planet by way of giving up her physical form to unleash a hellish fury upon ShinRa’s mako syphoning reactors. It’s the only way she thinks she can save what was left of humanity.

Thus, she travels around as disguised as a healer and fiend exterminator (mixed with an unusual ability to conjure powerful aeons without the use of summoning materia.)

Hojo catches wind of this, and comes to the conclusion little Yuna didnt die that fateful day. Instead, he watches her. Oh how she has grown! And awakened a new ability, it seemed! Perhaps one bestowed to her by the planet itself? Ah! she is not so worthless afterall!

For now. He sends “eyes” to monitor her movements while running some “tests” in the background.

[lazicepie]

<- trans.

Alright with that established. Hi, I'm Lazice Pie. And I had been dysphoric about my voice for shit knows how long. And me, at the prime and delicate and mind blastingly weird brain at 14, seeked for a better voice. Because any voice that is unfamiliar to my own, were seen as better at the time.

There had been various results, biding with a strange persistence that I can never achieve now, I have a pretty decent range, though I'd never be able to compete with a trans-woman opera singer, I can at least lower my voice by pure sheer fucking will, to that speech I'll be able to decieve as if I'm a cis guy for a sentence. Though that's a whole ass tensing nya.

You see. Yet for all this time, I was still in my comfortable range for almost all of my day to day speakings, with exceptions being role-calls, and one off interactions with like shop employees. Though this range variates with who fronts (source: source samples, double in booyaa!.) it's still all within this flesh prison's physical muscles.

LIKE. I CAN'T JUST NOT SHOW WHAT I MEAN FOR Y'ALL.

BUT what I'm trying to say for ALL of This.

The results of my voice training made me a cartoon character.

[caraidean]

Captive [Rigelian Raised AU]

Participant(s): Clair, Albein Rudolf II

Words: 5,707

Type: Introductory Cutscene

Summary: Clair finds her ‘diplomatic’ trip to Rigel was an attempt to provoke a war, and her alleged planned arranged courtship with their future emperor was a complete fabrication on her King’s part.

Dame Clair Soutr was not having a good day.

She had never really troubled to learn much of politics, particularly at the kind of level she was now wishing she had learned. Her family may have been important, but they weren’t ‘dealing with Rigel’ important. That should have been her first clue. But not for the first time she found herself cursing her own optimism, blind faith in authority, and the fact that her entire damned family had listened to what the King had said without pausing to think that, perhaps, such a renowned hedonist with such a noted asshole of a vizier wasn’t telling the entire truth.

Clair had found out that the Rigelian guards had expected the Princess and not a nobleman’s son at the border. Then she found out that this wasn’t to be some kind of official courtship, but if Lima - or Desiax, she supposed, the manipulative creep - had their way she was just to be pawned off to the Rigelian prince.

Not even as a wife. A consort. Her! Ye goddess, did nobody have any shame! And her treatment upon arrival hadn’t been much greater either met with derision and glares before being shoved in an empty waiting room and snidely told that she would learn what they would do with her!

Well. She could hardly give Lima or Desaix a piece of her mind, but whoever the Rigelians sent through that damned door she could deal with. A few minutes were wasted trying to pull one of the ornamental swords off the display above the fireplace until she embarrassingly realized they were welded onto the shield, at which point she settled for the candlesticks. Except those were screwed down.

Did nobody in this country read any books? There was always suppose to be something the heroine could arm herself with to fend off fiends! …or perhaps they’d read too many, she supposed. Grumbling she settled with trying to pry one of them off anyway, which was unfortunately the sight that the Rigelians would be met with when they opened the door - Clair growling in frustration, hands wrapped around the heavy cast-iron candlestick and trying to yank it from the coffee table so she could hit them with it.

At least she regained her composure fairly swiftly when she heard the door open. Hands moved to her side, brushing against the light blue of the dress she’d been forced into by the Zofian royals - she supposed the cleavage and slits for her thighs should have been warning signs in hindsight, now that she thought about it - before one moved to toy with her hair in her normal, nervous fashion while she marched straight up to the green-haired man in the center.

His armor and headpiece had the most spikes on it. Knowing this place, that likely meant he was either in charge, or the Prince himself.

“Is this any way to treat a lady?” She said sharply, resisting the urge to slap him for the moment. “I tell you I have had a very trying day - sold off like some common hound to the alleged prince of this nation after being decieved, and then shoved into this room with no food nor drink for the last few hours!”

She felt a guard step up to try and pull her away from the man she now knew had to be the prince from the sheer number of armed guards around her, but she batted him away with an elbow and jabbed a finger into the taller man’s collar in the most actively outraged fashion she could muster. For Clair, that was an awful lot of indignant fury to be on display.

“What do you have to say for yourself?!”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

Albein Alm Rudolf II was, himself, not having quite the best of days. There had been trouble brewing with Zofia (again) due to King Lima IV’s blatant disregard for a fragment of respect, and of course the man tries to smooth things over by sending a daughter off to be married to him. Of all things, using his daughters as bargaining coin! It had been insulting enough to receive such news, more so to learn the convoy was already on its way, especially when his father decided to let the convoy arrive so they could then discuss with whomever they got before sending an answer to such a vulgar gift— but to then find some Zofian noble unrelated to the crown when it reached the border?

An insult to the injury! They should have turned it back around then and there instead of allowing it to cross! And now, she was here, and without knowing if the woman was party to this plot, she was promptly sent to a room while questioning ensued of everyone else involved. Not so gentle questioning.

Were it up to him, they’d send back the carriage with the corpse of one of those responsible inside and a clear message of war. Enough was enough, and Albein would personally bear this insult no longer.

However, it did not take long to find that every manservant who had come from their southern neighbor had been told something different than what King Lima IV’s missive contained; and it all matched, to boot.

It was clearly an insult from the king himself, and these were just lambs to the slaughter to his sickening game. Perhaps Zofia didn’t deserve to burn, but that man and his so called chancellor sure did — as well as everyone else involved. Maybe they ought to kill two birds with one stone and—

…

Finding himself walking to the quarters where that woman was being kept (some ‘Clair’ girl from a noble house with a history of knighthoods, far as he was concerned), he tries to smooth over his temper. Time to find out her own motives to see if punishment should be dealt upon her too; his father had trusted him with this task, and so he would perform to the best of his ability. Nodding to Ezekiel so he’d open the doors to the waiting room, walking in with a small sample of his troops to see…

… What was she doing? His head cants slightly to the left as he notices she had been trying to, funnily enough, edge a candlestick off its base to… do what? Use it as a weapon? Cute, feisty, a little daring — was this actually a Zofian girl? He could almost laugh at her audacity as she marched forward to him, eyes trained upon her with amusement now instead of his previous anger. What was she going to do?

And off she goes, prattling off and… doing all his work for him. The outrage, the actions before he let himself in, how she quite confidently shoved off a guard… hah, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think her Rigelian (well, and the rather obvious Zofian garb she wore… did they know no shame?).

He can’t help it— Albein bursts out laughing at her jab, swatting her hand away with his usual careless confidence, although the motion is quite controlled and gentle, rather than forced. “Well, that tells me everything I’ve come to hear, does it not, gentlemen?” He addresses his men first, who seem baffled at his amusement, but otherwise nod stiffly. “Report to the Emperor at once.” He tells the man at his left, a good man by the family name Meyer, who salutes and leaves the room after being let out by Ezekiel. His last three men remain.

“After all, that was my exact question, little lady.” And with that, his amusement dwindles down, making way for the ire within that he still held, just not directed towards herself. “We are sent a rather insulting missive by your King, have the courtesy to accept his disgusting gift, only to find it’s not even what he’s stated.” Albein steps forward confidently, getting into her space while glaring down, expression turning stiff and serious. “So I do hope you are as un-involved as I think you now, lest this room be the last comfort you’re allowed before your life ends.”

“Start talking.”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

Clair always did take a few moments to catch onto something when it was happening in front of her. It wasn’t that she was stupid, just…preoccupied with herself more than anything else. She was on the verge of launching into another tirade at the prince’s expense - really, who responded to such an obvious plight with laughter? He must have been cruel as well as a pervert, why, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was dressed like this on his commands–

Her brain caught up and her words stopped. For a second her mouth opened and closed aimlessly, eyes widening before narrowing dangerously. “What did you say–”

For a moment, she wasn’t sure where to begin. A not insignificant part of her mind caught on the word ‘disgusting’ and she looked down at herself with a frown, looking up again a moment later as the rest caught up. Not even what he’s stated. Not even what he–

The coach had the royal sigil on the side, not her own family’s.

“Oh, the arrogant, cox-comb, hedge-born, churlish, dew-beating perverted drunken creepy SOT!”

Clair spun away from the prince, still raving as she worked her way through as much of her vocabulary as possible. Her brother and sister-in-law would both have chided her for hearing such things coming from her mouth, but perhaps they’d make an exception had they realized exactly what her ‘royal journey’ had been intended to do.

“Last comfort? Last comfort?!” She redirected her ire moments after plucking an empty fruit bowl off the table and hurling it against the wall, the thin metal clanging audibly as it bounced to the floor. She turned around again, seething as she stepped up to Albein and glared. Then she stopped, stepped back a few paces and tried to subtly rise up on her tip-toes so that the eye contact was at least on a somewhat equal footing.

“I’ll last comfort you, you ass.” Clair regretted running through all her best insult material now, well aware that repeating any of them would look bad. She gave up on the tip toes, storming around the room with a growl. She wished she had something else to throw, anything, as she stared up into his stiff and serious expression. “And for the record I hardly appreciate being labeled as disgusting. If anyone here is coming off badly from the deal that - that pig has made it would be you for accepting it.”

That said, the seriousness of her situation was starting to sink in a little, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of noticing she was scared. “I am a damned noblewoman and will not stand for being labeled and treated like some common street-walking – blast, what’s the word.”

She frowned and shook her head, one hand shaking a little as it moved to play with her hair.

“It hardly matters. But, fine. No. I knew nothing. I was under the impression that Rigel had made the first ouvertures in exploring diplomatic marriages. Not that I was being sold off like, at the risk of repeating myself, a hound.” She huffed. “Once I get my hand on that blasted vizier…”

For lack of anything else, she throttled the air for a few moments to get some of the tension out of her hands before sighing. “My name is Dame Clair Soutr. Not little lady.”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

It’s a little amusing to be able to physically witness as the pieces slide into place upon her expression, more so when her anger turns, a brand new tirade coming with it. She’s like a child throwing a tantrum, and he’s content to watch and listen as more and more insults pour out of her mouth.

And then, her rage takes a turn, back to him, and he can’t help but watch as she grasps the fruit bowl and tosses it like it’d… do anything. The clatter as it hits the wall and falls to the floor is sad, almost, like a little cry amidst a storm. His gaze returns to her, trying for all that she’s worth to look intimidating and… it’s not quite working. In fact, it only serves to turn his scowl into a grin of amusement. Ah, how precious.

But, truly, were all Zofians so self-centered? He is silent as she continues, and finally sings like a canary. This is all he needed, and perhaps she is lucky in being so loose-lipped… and so amusing to watch. He would not have taken kindly to her string of insults otherwise, even if he’s sure he can simply break her in half, should she actually anger him enough. It’d be an example, if anything… Zofian nobility was expandable— a lot of pigs as far as he was concerned.

“Yes, last comfort, Dame Clair Soutr.” He starts off, another step forward, a menacing one at that. He once more intends to invade her personal space, test her mettle and see what she’s worth. “You are fortunate we did not throw you into the dungeon with the rest of your company, and that we saw it fit to listen to testimony, willing or not, before seeing to your side of the tale. Yes, quite lucky indeed.” It’s not a threat, it’s a statement, as he wants her to know exactly where she stands. Perhaps this is not the best of places to be in, quite a boring waiting room with little comfort a Zofian would like, but in comparison to her companions, she was within the lap of luxury. “After all, you’ve come in deceit to further incite Rigel, further insult the crown and our people with this useless little plot. Would you have preferred the original treatment I had in mind? Being strung from your innards is not quite so comfortable.”

Yet he’s not angry, not quite, merely… setting the record. And, well, perhaps to see… would her will break at the knowledge of her brush with death, or would she merely bristle once more as she had been? Perhaps he’d get to hear more creative insults; there was a wealth of new ones already fully ready for future use. “But, I believe you are being quite honest in your word, as is most of your party.” And just like that, the pressure is off, and he takes a step back to simply nod to the men at his right. It is the one furthest back whom retreats to further inform the Emperor of the proceedings, and only once Lorenz is gone that he continues.

“But must you Zofians be so self-centered as you are boorish? Odd as it may be, I was not referring to you as the disgusting one. And, let it be known… this was not a deal.” He pauses. “And you’ve only made it this far out of the Emperor’s wish to see to it all before coming to a choice on what to do with this ‘offering’ your King has decided to lay upon our feet. It is an insult, through and through, that’s what it is; your amusing string of words is, by comparison, music.”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

This conversation seemed dedicated to driving Clair through the emotional ringer. She’d gone from concerned, to angry, to upset, to angrier - and for a brief second, now, terrified. She didn’t flinch at his threats to her, but hearing that everyone else had been captured and placed in the cells–

Her face paled for a moment as he stepped into her personal space, the flush of anger fading from her cheeks. The description of their plight - and, yes, fine, the surprisingly graphic details of what would have been done to her - made her hand shift from her lock of hair to over her heart for a second, eyes flinching and looking aside. But as he stepped back and sneered - sneered, almost, yes. Perhaps that was her own way of reading into the situation, but the body language he was using, the words and dismissive tone both of her and Zofians as a whole, perhaps it wasn’t any wonder that the indignant anger found itself replaced by a very focused, ice-hot rage.

“Let. Them. Go.”

Clair didn’t really process what she was doing as she stepped forward into the space he had just vacated. Her right arm suddenly swung about in a great arc, open palm smacking against the prince’s cheek with an audible, stinging impact that left her own hand throbbing slightly. In an instant guards stepped forwards, pushing her away from the prince and to the ground-

Such a shame for the guards that one of the first things any Pegasus Knight worth their salt learned was how to fall properly. She managed to kick her way out of these godawful shoes as she rolled back to her feet, crouching for a split second, long enough to wonder if she was doing something even remotely sensible. Then, deciding that clearly words were not working here, Clair launched herself forwards. A shoulder impacted against the plate covering his stomach and she felt something crack in her collar, but hands tugged him around the knees and dragged Albein to the floor with her as they crashed down.

In that brief moment of shock, with the guards audibly getting closer and Albein himself starting to react again, Clair ran a quick adjustment of the setting through her head. Her collar was likely cracked from deciding to try and tackle a man in near on full plate, her hand throbbed from a poorly delivered slap - although, goddess, she hoped it at least bruised him as well - and she had no weapon and was drastically outnumbered.

Perhaps she’d just signed her own execution note. At the moment, she was perfectly fine with that if it meant adjusting the prince’s perceptions of Zofians as ‘self-centered’ and ‘boorish’.

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

“You’re in no position to make demands,” Albein begins in a haughty tone, glaring down at the foolish twig of a girl who did not seem to grasp her place, nor the weight of her actions and the sheer insult they bore to Rigel. He, however, does not get to finish, for one moment he’s bearing down on the fool, and the next he’s staring at a mantelpiece to his right, a sting on his cheek.

Normally, he’d have reacted with a punch of his own, with perhaps a headbutt or choking the culprit, but he felt himself a little out of sorts from surprise. Well, she certainly had guts even now, he’d give her that. So he turns, now ready to enact upon his usual violence, when he notes there’s guards in front of him now (Gods, must they act like his nannies? She’s a Zofian noble girl!), girl nowhere in his line of sight, and—

Now he’s staring at the ceiling, an audible crack sounding near his torso, arms gripping at him, and Gods, he hit his back hard on the ground. Still, he’s no longer surprised, and thus his reaction is now far more appropriate of a Rigelian soldier. For this fool of a girl was messing with warriors from birth.

He’s quick to shove her off him and deliver a punch to her torso from his right (a mercy, really, considering his real force was at his left, known for causing ruptures on delicate innards), instead using his left to grasp at her neck and shove her upon the ground despite the throb at the back of his head. Failing that, he’d instead restrain her onto the ground.

And should his hand find itself around her neck, he would squeeze, just enough to make her realize her life was in his hands, but not enough to leave a bruise just yet. It wouldn’t be the first time he crushed a windpipe.

“You are in no position to make demands.” He repeats with a snarl, glaring down upon the foolish fighter, ignoring the brandished weapons at her. And it is mere respect for her fighting spirit that does not make him crush her then and there, amusement at her will to fight odds that she could not possibly surmount.

Perhaps not all Zofians are of the same make, but this is not about that. “Know your place, and know your crime.” Maybe, this time, she would understand what precarious position she was in by having undertaken this journey… knowledge or not. “Perhaps you were not party to its plot, but it is you who is here now under the insignia of the King… and the burden of being the example. We will tolerate his insults to our nation no longer.”

Still, much as he wanted to get back to her in full for her imprudence, he’d rather not fight a woman not in battle armor when he himself finds himself wearing some. It’s not quite right. “… I will have a healer see to your injuries, and then you will wait very patiently for His Imperial Majesty to come to a choice regarding you and your ilk. Do I make myself clear?”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

Clair never swore. In fact, she expected that her brother would be somewhat upset if he found out that she could. That being said, considering the pain she was suddenly in, just a gentle whimper or muttered phrase didn’t seem appropriate.

“Fuc-.” She hissed under her breath, the word cut off when his fist slammed into her chest. Gods be good, how many bones did this lunatic need to crack before he was satisfied? She let out a whimper as his hand closed around her neck, eyes squeezed shut from the pain as she tried to compose herself-

Successfully. When she opened them again she was glaring, tears in the corners of her eyes the only real indication of how much pain she was in. “Think f’r a secon.”

She couldn’t damned talk like this. Right now her mind was racing, unable to decide if she should just shut up and play the meek noble like he clearly expected her to, or if she should say anything. Because with every passing instance she spent with the Prince, she started to realize what Lima and mostly Desaix had been planning.

Screw waiting. Screw sitting around like a delicate flower in one country and a prisoner the next. Maybe it was the pain talking but Clair’s hands moved to grip Albein’s, prying two of the fingers off her throat and gasping for air before she spoke as quickly as possible.

“W-why would the king send anyone if it was just f’r an insult…” Damn, her throat hurt. “…’f he knew you’d kill us? Desaix has to be up to something…”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

“Gods, you really can’t quite listen, can you?” Albein snarls out, yet instead of lashing out again, he releases her throat entirely upon her prompting rather than keep trying to hold her in place with what he considered was a light squeeze.

Still, he remains upon her, and instead moves his left hand to grasp her right shoulder, then his right to hold her left, keeping her in place against the ground. It’s a more optimal solution, he feels, if she wants to keep parroting. Any information he’ll take.

“You make demands as a criminal and prisoner, act like detaining you here is the worst you could have gotten with the sheer insult you and yours’ audacity was to us as a nation, then ask me to think? I’m afraid you’re the last person I’d take advice from when it comes to the brains department.” It’s tempting to break the collarbone, do something, and prove a point, but instead he holds back the idea. Certainly, with a healer along the way, it wouldn’t be like it’d matter (to him), but practicing restraint seemed like the better option. For now.

Besides, she was unarmed and unable to fight — it did not feel right, not even holding her down like this did.

“I suppose the bastard of a Chancellor your King has would definitely not care enough for the lives of the people he’s sent — and neither would King Lima IV himself. But what he’d use your hypothetical death for is irrelevant for me.” The pressure is off, and he stands, but does not expect her to. In fact. “Stay down if you want to keep your head.” The unfurled spears from both guards point to her neck then, and he instead walks back to knock on the door again, requesting a healer from Ezekiel quietly before he continues, as if the pause did not exist.

“Again, it is none of my concern — after all, none of you are dead, nor permanently harmed. Considering the great dishonor this entire ordeal has brought to Rigel, perhaps you can consider yourselves lucky.” But only just, after all… “I am uncertain if I can say the same of your nation. This is not the first of insults — and it came under the guise of an apology for another.”

Perhaps, now, she would understand; what she had been roped into was not a standalone incident, nor the first. It had just not been… of this scale.

“Ah… perhaps you are trice as lucky, for much of what you’ve done would earn you an execution, not just the mission you were unknowingly tasked with. But, well, I happen to like that spark of yours.” With a wave of his hand, the weapons are removed from near her neck, instead pointing to either shoulder… and then off entirely. “You’ve the mettle and bravado of a warrior, perhaps there’s hope for your people yet.”

And with a shy knock, a cleric is allowed inside, who stands and waits to be ordered to heal.

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

“You can’t quite think, either.” Clair mumbled under her breath, although she gasped for air as soon as he let go of her throat. She winced as he gripped her shoulder, whimpering as the pressure on her cracked collarbone made itself known - but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off every injury she’d taken in the last few moments throbbed painfully, cracked bones, throbbing wrist, bruised throat…terrified soul.

“Not every noble likes the King, and the commoners don’t either.” She followed the order to stay down, though, part of that being unsure if she could even stand straight properly anyway - and part of it fear that he would finally follow through with his threats. “They like my family, though. And the servants are all commoners. Kill them, and Desaix…”

A cough wracked her body and she shuddered in pain instants after it, the jarring motion making her chest throb as she whimpered again. This was far too much for her, gods forbid, she hadn’t even finished her training. “K-kill us, he gets a scapegoat to get them on his side too. Ugh, I should have seen this when no other nobles came…”

She trailed off, sinking into a silent, almost sulk-like stare as he kept talking. So…was Zofia going to be attacked now, then? Would she be used as an excuse for a war either way? And who the hell did he think he was to talk about ‘sparks’ and ‘bravado of a warrior’?

“I am a warrior.” In training, she added silently onto the end, but one last barb couldn’t help but escape Clair’s lips as the healer arrived. “Give me a lance and the skies, Your Majesty. We’ll-”

Some kind of self-preserving instinct kicked in and she didn’t finish that sentence, instead just glaring at him from the ground as the healer worked. One of these days, she vowed to herself, it’d be her wearing a gauntlet as it smashed into his stupidly perfect face. And she wouldn’t be wearing this poor excuse for a dress, either. Never mind the fact it was clearly meant to be used for seductions, the color clashed with her hair horribly.

Did Desaix have anyone competent working for him?

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

“Kill them and make a statement to denounce the King of his deeds, and they earn no one’s favor as the masses are split between believing a King they don’t like or the foreign nation they sent a carriage with the Royal crest to.” Albein adds to her speculations with a wave of his hand. “Still… if that was their goal, it is all the better.” His expression turns pensive, turning her words in his head as he tries to ignore her barbs and not bristle at them… too much. He had half the mind to have her skewered to the floor, but… no.

She had her uses yet, rather than just as hostage for their demands. … Not that she wouldn’t fulfill that role anyway. The healer steps forward with a wave of his hand, kneeling beside the Zofian and chanting softy under his breath as wounds mended with a cost. Magic had always interested him in this aspect — it was a shame he never quite could get a hold of it.

He wanted to make fun of her, however, for proclaiming herself a warrior, but it is when he mulls on her name again that he realizes he’s heard it before. Yes, there was a… Clive, was it? A renown knight in Zofia, he was impressive enough for words to reach even the capital of Rigel. His lips tug into a smile instead.

“Hmph. ‘Warrior’, huh? Exploits of your brother have been spoken of even in Rigel, but I’ve yet to hear a whisper of your own.” He taunts, playfully almost, before offering a shrug. “But, well, you’re young. Perhaps, once this is over, you will make a name of yourself yet.” Yes, if this was Clive’s sister, she definitely had the blood of warriors running through her veins — the feisty display could simply be a sample of what was to come. The healer retreats once he finishes, offering a bow before coming to stand behind him, as he should. Just in case…

“Now take a seat, I will have the rest of your party brought up shortly, and perhaps better clothes than those disgusting rags. You simply will not survive the night in that.” Albein pauses, then decides to add something else as an afterthought. “Keep your foolish tendencies under control this time, or you may find yourself pinned to the floor with two very handsome spears on your shoulders.”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

“Don’t just dismiss us like that.” Clair bristled in turn when he seemed to reject her words out of hand, The magic let her take a few breaths, trying to control her own emotions over everything else as the pain in her chest finally went away…for the most part.

“If my brother was here the lot of you would never have been able to walk through the door before you were felled.” She said, confidently. Of course her brother’s reputation had spread here - that was something she could use. A moment later his harsher words again caused her to flinch back, even as she stood up.

Then she glanced down at her ‘dress’ and let out a small sigh of relief.

“Oh, good. Thank you. I feel like some painted-up floozy. Once I get my hands on whichever perverted dolt decided to dress me up like this he shan’t be able to walk straight for a month.” She swore vindictively, sitting on the church and feeling her hands slowly tug what passed for her clothes in a desperate attempt to cover up some more skin.

“Yes, yes. You’re going to torture me if I don’t behave.” She said heavily. “I got that part earlier, thank you, you hardly need to repeat the point so frequently.”

-w--w- -w--w- -w--w-

There’s an amusement in his eyes at her indignation, even if he truly felt indifferent at the thought of the demise of Zofians— something he was dimly aware was not ‘kind’, but the concept and execution for him were confusing enough as it was, so he decided not to contemplate it for long. Instead, his amusement grows as she confidently makes claim of her brother’s prowess.

“I’d have loved to see him try.” Albein says in response, eyes brimming with fire and a lust for battle. He’d have wanted it to happen— he’d have wanted to have a legitimate shot at this Sir Clive himself, see if the talk of his prowess had any truth within. It is, unfortunately, nothing short of fantasy, and so he shakes the thought away with a tinge of disappointment. Ah… it truly was a shame. Perhaps facing his sister armed would be satisfaction enough? He’d give it thought, depending on his Father’s judgement.

Speaking of judgement… at the very least, they were in agreement for her clothes; something he had already assumed based on her amusing rants, yet still an encouraging confirmation none the less. He nods to her words, thoughts of violence upon the pervert responsible for her state of dress amusing enough as it was. “I’d be willing to provide the weapon for such demonstration of violence.” He adds. It seems just about everything she says is something he finds… amusing. Almost everything. In any case.

“… But I’ve dawdled long enough. You are aware of your position, and your people will be brought to you. All of you shall be provided with food and drink, as well as proper clothes… and then we shall see what the next day brings.” With a wave, he gestures his men to him, then turns to leave, the two soldiers standing guard until he’s past them and out the door, healer sleeping past him and to the halls. “Ah, yes, sleeping arrangements… it will be done.”

It is the last he says to her before all file out after him and the door is shut… leaving her alone once more.

[addicted2life-blog1]

Mind Power.

TRUTH IS STRANGER THEN FICTION.

This Is an example (one of many)

Of how we have been decieved, that successfully the people doing it don't even know that they are.

In the samples above, is ordinary water both samples were identical at start... both containers brand new and cleaned same.

Can you see the difference in the ice formation once I froze it?

LOVE and HATE, just the thought of it with intent actually changed the structure of the WATER.

Omg I did same over and over again and same result.. you try it and post here.

Next is the rice experiment

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Starship - We Built This City (Official Music Video)" on YouTube

We sold lots of Chocolates the name of the White Comet Empire is Galantis. Dave s knows which it is. And it's Huge they all say. And they see it two birdsctest out use decieve. And it's true and right. I sold tons of chocolate huge bins. Giant truckloads all overvtye state website is up most drive to get it. The ships in the Buddhist monks are Starblazers ships yes. Are innjaepordy. Are only a mile or two long but are fast have a concealed wave motion gun.

Huge lots of chocolate. Huge. We had it in the mall last weekend will try this weekend. The mall silly yeh if anything mop Jason up. Terrific. Most hate it. He's out they say. Too huge no need it. By The way barf bag you two idiots are out you hear me mac2 says the women want this your a faggot. Your sister too shithead. She fd it up on purpose won't do it can't stand it is a loser. Likes her look that he doesn't. She sees it too will make you. They say no. Too close we shall see. Bg says yes. He'll bring his lol. By says he shall he thinks I will sell tons I usually do. Huge truck fulls need it here. The addition of thiers will make a competition for sales. We shall count here. Bg says.

I approve. Mac2. We look tons want it and the Comet Empire, bg has a version all are Wonka bar chocolate

We see the phones are off the hook.

We say this cute trick but so awful it makes it fun. Mac smear yes doing similar all the time. Tomed down but fun. We try it. Mac2 and Macs

We see it we like it here too

India

Butan

China

Taiwan

Japan and with gusto, Suzuki honors you too..haha lol lots of motorcycles ditched hate talk. Was way too powerful for the handling but no it's just right not for amateurs.

We tried it it's nice he laughs sees why

Norwegians and the little Norway Express 🇳🇴

We are in the 🇬🇧

We are in Olympus

Us to 🇺🇸

Trump says, het it's me Biden we give him some too. Samples from bg. So I shall I'm Hera. Oh boy. In DemiGoddess format

Place will be crazier than the Wonka factory in in. 🇦🇺 Brad says

We have to fight don't we no. We eat chocolate bring graham crackers. Publix will donate a pallet..walmart to match a guide chocolate time ladies starts tommorrow

Trump

We agree

Biden no no it's me Kamilla

Qe yup of the 🇬🇧

But does Jason if the fly swatter can he vmbring it to the mall

Zues haha only my husband

Hera

No no it's me

Goddess Wife of Posiden

Haha I heard nothing he says I saw it

Hera

Wow man this is cool. Berts you wanna sponsor it as you used to

Thor Freya

Yup we send it out now to the mall ppl yes at night.

Bert's Harley Davidson

Oh my spensers lady. Yeh spell it right...i t r ...no no it's Spencer's. Yes. That's it. We will have it and the chocolates. Bg you if to call. You ppl well. Both mac2 says it's sales competition. And to see who buys his.

Ok ok both can call in..wait bg2is at fye.

We might it sits there. Hec says no they will it will sell thiers. They say yes we try. No. And ok..then yes. We see right next to each other lol.

We laugh looks like bath salts.

Mac2

And hmm we lost site of it no

Mac2

[miindjack]

so, for preface: we’re in some kind of camp and there’s a dragon who’s breath causes decay and shit. the rouge-bard in our campaign wants a sample of the diseased people to see if we can make a bomb or something to use against the dragon. she was trying to decieve reno to get help and say it was for research for a cute but reno (half elf fighter) was just like “yeah dude, let’s fucking do it.” bc reno is a chaotic dumbass. 

so we had to devise a plan to distract ivy (our tiefling paladin) so darcy (our bardrouge halfelf) can get the sample. 

dm: how are reno and darcy going to try and get ivy out of the med tent? me: i'm gonna stab myself in the leg and go in rouge-bard, whispering: that's a bad idea since they're diseased. don’t go in with an open wound.. me: oh right, uh, i'm gonna stab myself and then get her to come out dm: okay. take nine hit points. what do you say to get ivy to come out?  me, trying to sound pain and hold back giggles: ivy....i'm hurt...oof ouch my bones.... dm, paladin and rougebard: loses it

[embur]

Simplified Spelling

All human beings ar born free and equal in dignity and rights. They ar endowd with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

(In this case it doesn't really change it that much, but the examples next to the rules should be good to gauge how it'd look.)

Alphabet and Combinations:

It's the regular english alphabet.

Rules and Examples:

AE (Æ) and OE (Œ) pronounced /ɛ/

use E aesthetic→esthetic, foetus→fetus, alumnae (unchanged)

BT pronounced /t/

use T debt→det, doubt→dout

–CEED

use –CEDE exceed→excede, proceed→procede

CH pronounced /k/

drop silent H

except before E, I, Y character→caracter, school→scool chemist, architect, monarchy (unchanged)

final double consonant

drop the last letter,

but with –LL only after a short vowel,

and with –SS only in monosyllables add→ad, bill→bil, bluff→bluf, doll→dol, egg→eg, glass→glas, loss→los But retain double consonant in all, roll, needless, a.s.f.

double consonant before silent –E

drop the last two letters bagatelle→bagatel, bizarre→bizar, cigarette→cigaret, giraffe→giraf, gramme→gram

silent or misleading –E

drop the E are→ar, give→giv, have→hav, were→wer, gone→gon, examine→examin, practise→practis, definite→definit, active→activ, involve→involv, serve→serv, achieve→achiev, leave→leav, freeze→freez, gauze→gauz, sleeve→sleev

EA pronounced /ɛ/

use E head→hed

EA pronounced /ɑ/

use A heart→hart

EAU and EAUX pronounced /əʊ/

use O bureau→buro

–ED pronounced /d/

use –D,

reduce any foregoing doubled consonant to a single letter answered→anserd, called→cald, carried→carrid, preferred→preferd, wronged→wrongd.

Do not make this change if the spelling suggests an incorrect pronunciation: bribed not bribd; used not usd, a.s.f.

–ED pronounced /t/

use –T,

reduce any foregoing doubled consonant to a single letter,

change CED/SCED to ST asked→askt, advanced→advanst.

Do not make this change if the spelling suggests an incorrect pronunciation: baked not bakt; hoped not hopt, a.s.f.

EI pronounced /iː/

use IE conceit→conciet, deceive→deciev

–EY pronounced /iː/

use –Y chimney→chimny, money→mony

GH pronounced /f/

use F,

drop the silent letter in the foregoing digraph cough→cof, laugh→laf, enough→enuf

GH pronounced /ɡ/

use G aghast→agast, ghost→gost

–GM pronounced /m/

use M apothegm→apothem, paradigm→paradim

–GUE after a consonant, a short vowel or a digraph representing a long vowel or diphthong

drop silent –UE catalogue→catalog, league→leag, prologue→prolog tongue→tung

But not in rogue, vague, a.s.f.

–ISE and –YSE pronounced /aɪz/

use –IZE advertise→advertize, analyse→analize, rise→rize

–MB after a short vowel

use M bomb→bom, crumb→crum

But not after a long vowel as in comb, tomb, a.s.f.

–OE pronounced /oʊ/

drop silent E,

except in inflected forms foe→fo, hoe→ho foes, hoed (unchanged)

OEU pronounced /uː/

use U manoeuver→manuver

OUL pronounced /əʊl/

use OL,

except in "soul" boulder→bolder, mould→mold

–OUGH

use O/U/OCK/UP according to pronunciation although→altho, borough→boro, doughnut→donut, thorough→thoro, through→thru, hough→hock, hiccough→hiccup.

For plough write plow, but not bow for bough.

–OUR pronounced /ər/

use –OR colour→color, flavour→flavor

PH pronounced /f/

use F alphabet→alfabet, telephone→telefone

–RE after any consonant except C

use –ER centre→center, metre→meter.

But retain –RE in lucre, mediocre.

RH– pronounced /r/

use R rhetoric→retoric, rhubarb→rubarb

RRH pronounced /r/

use R hemorrhage→hemorage

silent S between I and L

drop silent S island→iland

SC– pronounced /s/

use S scenery→senery, scissors→sissors

–SQUE pronounced /sk/

use –SK burlesque→burlesk

silent U before a vowel

drop silent U guard→gard, guess→ges, guide→gide

Y between consonants

use I analysis→analisis, type→tipe

YOU pronounced /jʌ/

use YU your→yur, young→yung

Notes:

The handbook also suggested the following spelling changes, which are not covered by the above rules: acre→aker, answer→anser, beleaguer→beleager, campaign→campain, counterfeit→counterfit, delight→delite, foreign→foren, forfeit→forfit, friend→frend, masquerade→maskerade, mortgage→morgage, receipt→receit, sieve→siv, sleight→slight, sovereign→sovren, sprightly→spritely, touch→tuch, yeoman→yoman.