#their offense seems to be solid if not elite

[cementcornfield]

i feel like this is about to be such a weird game lmao

[theanticool]

Saw a discussion online about what makes a good MMA gym. One of the points made was don't judge a gym by its champions but judge a gym by it's mid-tier fighters and how they perform. What do you think makes a good gym? What good mma gyms are good today?

I agree with that. Sometimes you just have elite athletes who are smart and would have figured things out with experience, though I do think bad coaches can absolutely burn out elite talent (Edmond).

1) A good healthy training environment. Like, they understand when to hard spar, when to touch spar, when to not spar etc.

2) Fundamentals! Are the fighters coming out of that gym educated? They understand not only how the technical aspects of fighting (don’t throw yourself out of position punching, how to defend takedown, etc) but their fighters understand HOW to win fights, if you get me. A great example of a school that teaches great “technical fundamentals” but not “fight fundamentals” is Tiger Schulmann’s (Jimmie Rivera, Uriah Hall, Lyman Good, etc.) All those guys had solid fundamental kickboxing games. No glaring holes. But they lacked the strategic mindfulness to enforce their games when met with opponents who were not intimidated by the singular first level of offense. Poor cage craft, etc.

3) Good cornering. It comes in many forms. Sometimes fighters need technical advice (I don’t care what anyone says, T Witmann telling Rose to plant her feet against Andrade in the rematch saved her from taking an L). Sometimes, it’s a pep talk (Leon-Usman 2). More often than not, it’s a mix. This also goes hand and hand with good game-planning/structuring of training.

I’m being really broad because gyms have different strengths. Some gyms attract great talent that bounce off one another and sharpen them. Others are good building fighters from the ground up (Serra-Longo). Some are good at giving guys tools to lengthen the prime of their careers. Some are masterful at game planning (Team Nurmagomedov/Serra-Longo). others are just great at preparing guys to go out there and die for the W (Chute Box). There are quite a few I’m looking at sideways nowadays (Jackson-Winks, Tristar, etc). So on and so on.

I like Fortis. They seem to be building a really solid roster of guys who have good fundamentals. You got your huge camps like ATT which are still turning out big time fighters. MMA Lab is a gym that turns out over-performers. Way more to say but I’m at work.

[fordphilipsfictionlibrary]

Ronin, Book 1, Chapter 01

Koga watched as the retreating army's last stragglers disappeared into the distance. He was glad to see the massive force leaving his lands, but knew without a doubt that this fight was far from over. The siege of the Akita capital was merely the first strike in what would surely be a long and bloody campaign by the Hokkaido and their allies.

Tearing his eyes away from the scene below him, he left the balcony, closing the heavy wooden doors as he entered the war council's chambers. The room was empty now, he had ordered it so hours ago, and he found himself once again drawn to the massive map that sat in the center of the long hall. The map sat atop a solid wood table and accurately showed the topography and political geography of the entire island. Gazing at it, he wondered just how everything had imploded so quickly.

Years ago, in the time of Koga's grandfather, the nine clans of the island had signed peace accords, vowing to never war on each other for land or gold alone and to call council whenever arbitration between species was needed. All the clans had been, at least at the time, proponents of the deal. The growing barbarian and ninja threats were more than enough to contend with in those days and the idea of eight less enemies to worry about had been deemed beneficial to all parties. The three wolf clans, the Hokkaido, the Honshu and the Shikoku, were given control of the areas to the northwest of the Great Mountains while the dog clans, the Akita, Shiba and Kai-Ken, gained authority over the areas to the southeast. This had left the valley; a small but resource rich area nestled in the gap where the Great Mountains split into two separate ranges before rejoining again to the north and south. It was far from the sea and hard to access from the outside world, but the cat clans, the Amur, the Irotomi and the Nekomata, had taken it as their own. Each clan had built a capital in their respective territory and aside from some minor disagreements and skirmishes, the peace had held ever since.

Then, almost a year ago, the Hokkaido had broken the pact. The specifics were still hazy and a near endless stream of conflicting information flowed into the Akita capital on a daily basis, casting even more doubt over the true events of the previous eight months. From what Koga and his network of spies had gathered, the Hokkaido had convinced the Honshu, Shikoku and Kai Ken, the most wolf-like of the dog clans, to unite against the others in a grab for power. Their assault had come without warning and the cat clans, along with the Akita and their Shiba allies, had been caught completely off guard. A force of mostly Honshu and Kai Ken samurai, along with more mercenaries than Koga had thought available to any on the island, had besieged the Akita stronghold before any offensive measures could have been taken. Only the arrival of the unmolested Shiba army had saved Koga’s city from disaster. After a somewhat lengthy siege, the invading army had retreated and the Shiba had entered the capital as much needed reinforcements. 

As if this wasn’t concerning enough, a second force, known only by rumors and whispers at this point, but reportedly consisting almost entirely of elite Hokkaido warriors, was said to have attacked the valley, wiping out the entire Amur clan with a surprise attack on their lakeside home. The other cat clans, not wanting to share that fate, had reportedly abandoned their cities and were unaccounted for at the present time. Koga could only hope they were headed this way. If he meant to subdue the Hokkaido, he would need every ally he had on the island.

With their enemies reeling, the Hokkaido had made a number of strange maneuvers that both confused and worried Koga. First, they seemed to have left the valley after the destruction of the Amur clan. For Koga, the next logical step would have been to move right on to the Irotomi or Nekomata strongholds, but as far as he knew, that had not yet occurred. The fact that these strongholds were now mostly empty made this even more curious. The second odd maneuver was yesterday's call to retreat. The siege had been nowhere close to being over from either side's perspective, that had been months away, but Koga had been aware of his side's disadvantage nonetheless. Had the Hokkaido simply held for six more months, Koga’s army would have had to sully forth to meet them, starving and weak. How passing up that favorable scenario served the Hokkaido’s ultimate goals was a mystery to him, but he doubted that the move was in the Akita clan's best interest.

A heavy and urgent knock on the interior doors to the war room shook him from his dark and troubled thoughts. “Enter!” he barked. His troops and servants were well disciplined and would only bother him during a time of solitude if it was of the utmost importance. Denji, one of his most loyal and trusted samurai, stepped into the room.

“Word from one of our dogs in the Kai Ken capital,” he said, his fur bristling with agitation and excitement.

“Good I hope,” Koga responded.

“If it can be proven, it may be the first crack in the Hokkaido armor that we have discovered thus far,” Denji said, closing the door behind him and joining Koga at the edge of the massive table map. “Our dog, and he is one of our best, with an excellent track record of good information, has sent word that the Hokkaido have taken over leadership of the Honshu, Kai Ken and Shikoku clans.”

“Taken over?” Koga said, stunned, “But how? The others would never consent to such a thing!”

At this Denji’s face grew hard. “Murder,” he said plainly. “While their armies were out fighting the Hokkaido's battles, the damned wolves assassinated much of the Kai Ken and Honshu leadership. They seem to have had a fair bit of inside help in each case, though something is amiss with the Shikoku clan.”

Koga, still stunned by the news that the Hokkaido had now come to control four armies worth of well trained Samurai troops, answered absentmindedly, “Amiss?”

“They have disappeared for the most part,” Denji said, sounding befuddled himself.

“What do you mean disappeared?”

“They were supposed to head south to do battle with the Inoshi tribe, but no word of any sort of military activity has come from the south since the war began, and all of our eyes and ears have noticed an absence of Shikoku soldiers in enemy armies.”

“Have the Hokkaido taken over their capital as well?”

“It seems as though they have, but almost none of the higher ups in the Shikoku army or government structure were there when the Hokkaido made their move.”

“Are they in hiding then or have they simply been defeated in their southern endeavors this quickly? The Inoshi are far more powerful than the southern clans want to believe and I doubt a single army of Shikoku could defeat them or even survive a full scale invasion of their territory.”

“My guess is the former,” Denji said, freely giving his opinion for the first time so far. Koga appreciated it. Denji could be a bit brash, but he was honest; a good combination for an advisor and commander. “If I had to guess, they anticipated Hokkaido treachery and acted accordingly.”

“Find out,” Koga responded. “If we are going to counter the Hokkaido advance we need allies. The Shiba will stand by us to the bitter end, but they will not be enough. If the Nekomata and Irotomi are on their way, they could be of great help. At the very least it would even the odds to four clans against four. Any word on their whereabouts?”

“Nothing I can say for sure, but if they've fled their capitals they could only be headed here or to the monastery.”

“The Tanuki monastery? Why would they seek refuge with the monks?”

“They may seek to bring them to safety,” Denji offered. “The Irotomi at least are a spiritual clan, and cats besides; who knows what their priorities might be?”

“Send a small force to the monastery,” Koga said wearily, “and another to find out what game the Shikoku are playing. If they aren't with the Hokkaido, then they are with us. I can see no benefit to neutrality.”

“Shall I request that our eyes and ears become a bit more proactive? Look for allies among the enemy clans?”

“Yes. I am confident there is a sizable contingent in both the Kai Ken and the Honshu power structures that will not have reacted well to having their sovereignty stripped from them by the Hokkaido. If they can launch attacks from within to soften up our enemy, they must. This will not be a battle won solely in the field.”

“Is that all my Lord?” Denji said, sensing correctly that their exchange of information was now at an end.

“For now,” Koga said, tilting his head slightly towards the younger dog.

Bowing low in return, Denji exited the room wordlessly, leaving Koga alone with his map.

(Chapter 02)

[sallerlord]

Guardians of Justice: Unveiling the Top-Tier Tactics of the Best Criminal Defense Attorneys | Saller, Lord, Ernstberger & Insley

Introduction:

In the complex realm of criminal law, the role of a defense attorney is paramount in ensuring justice is served. The best criminal defense attorney are akin to guardians of justice, employing a diverse array of top-tier tactics to defend their clients against accusations. In the intricate realm of criminal law, the formidable team at Saller, Lord, Ernstberger & Insley stands as the epitome of legal prowess. These seasoned attorneys serve as steadfast guardians of justice, employing a diverse array of top-tier tactics to defend their clients against accusations.

1. Thorough Case Analysis:

The foundation of any successful defense strategy lies in a comprehensive analysis of the case. Elite defense attorneys leave no stone unturned, meticulously examining evidence, witness testimonies, and legal precedents. This careful scrutiny enables them to identify loopholes, inconsistencies, or constitutional violations that may be crucial in building a robust defense.

2. Effective Communication:

The ability to articulate persuasively is a hallmark of a top-tier defense attorney. From negotiating plea deals to presenting compelling arguments in court, effective communication skills are indispensable. The best criminal defense attorneys have a knack for crafting a narrative that resonates with judges and juries, emphasizing key points that can sway opinions in favor of their clients.

3. Legal Expertise and Specialization:

Mastery of the law is a non-negotiable quality for exceptional defense attorneys. Beyond a general understanding of criminal law, many specialize in specific areas such as white-collar crime, drug offenses, or violent crimes. This specialization allows them to delve deeper into the nuances of their chosen field, offering clients a higher level of expertise.

4. Vigorous Advocacy:

Fearless advocacy is a distinguishing trait of the finest criminal defense attorneys. They ardently champion their clients' rights, challenging evidence, questioning witnesses, and contesting legal procedures. This tenacious approach can make a significant impact on the outcome of a case, especially in situations where the odds may seem insurmountable.

5. Building Strong Relationships

:

Establishing solid relationships with clients, investigators, and experts is crucial for a successful defense. The best attorneys cultivate trust and open communication with their clients, ensuring a clear understanding of the case details. Additionally, they collaborate with skilled investigators and experts to strengthen their defense strategy, leveraging a network of professionals to benefit their clients.

Conclusion:

As guardians of justice, the best criminal lawyer employs a combination of legal acumen, strategic thinking, and interpersonal skills to safeguard the rights of those accused. By delving into the intricacies of their craft, these elite professionals navigate the complexities of the legal system with finesse, ensuring that justice prevails for their clients.

[bopinion]

2023 / 06

Aperçu of the Week:

"We wanted the best, but it came as usual."

(Viktor Chernomyrdin, former Russian prime minister, in 1993)

Bad News of the Week:

The image of the "People's Democratic Republic" of North Korea is often described as Stone Age communism. While the majority of the population suffers from extreme poverty and, in some cases, famine, Kim Yong Un stages himself as a monarch and operates a strange cult of nuclear weapons and long-range missiles, which he sees as life insurance for his own despotic regime. All of this is done under the eyes of China, a protective power that is difficult to understand, and in distinction from the economically successful brother nation of South Korea.

For a long time, North Korea existed like a country on another planet. Hardly any information penetrated to the outside or the inside, the communicative isolation seemed perfect, the media control total. This still works internally, but in recent months it is the World Wide Web, of all places, on whose map the country is no longer a blank spot. On the one hand, North Korea operates extremely successful hacker cohorts who, in addition to various espionage and disinformation campaigns, also managed to collect at least $1.2 billion in cryptocurrency through online fraud and data extortion. In other words, a concretely lucrative business that flushes foreign currency into the state coffers.

What is unclear, however, is the objective of what is currently the second notable North Korean Internet phenomenon: an apparently broad-based social media offensive. In a series of channels, which according to CNN are new and have been astonishingly successful in a short time, the country is staging itself as a pleasant home for seemingly normal teenagers. Who speak perfect English with a British accent. Who, for example, enjoy popsicles and love to read Harry Potter. Only the former is hardly available and the latter is even officially banned. Why is this done? Good question.

The videos "look like a well-prepared play" scripted by the North Korean government, said Park Seong-cheol, a researcher at the Database Centre for North Korean Human Rights. The scenes shown from the alleged everyday life of youngsters are not completely fake, but staged. For example, there is a water park, a movie theater and an amusement park in Pyongyang. Only these facilities are reserved for an elite class of party officials, military officers and government employees. Like the Internet access these strange influencers use - just like the smartphones that aren't actually available. What's the point when, according to the CIA fact book, only 26% of the population even has electricity? It would be nice if the North Korean tourist office, which wants to open the country's borders to international tourism, were behind this.

More likely, however, it is a red herring. With which the regime wants to influence the current narrative: North Korea is not an isolated country that could attack its neighbors and the United States with nuclear weapons. But rather an ordinary East Asian country where ordinary people like you and me live ordinary lives. Combined with the recent spate of missile launch tests, the latest expansion of the Nyŏngbyŏn nuclear facility documented with satellite imagery, and a new solid-fuel intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) unveiled just last Wednesday at the 75th anniversary of the founding of the armed forces, this leaves a queasy feeling.

Good News of the Week:

Probably the death toll of 28,000 from the earthquake in the Turkish-Syrian border region is out of date by the time I post this. The worst series of quakes since scientific records began has devastated an area where nearly 20 million people live. And as events unfold, a whole series of negative findings are coming to light.

The Turkish government is not implementing the regulations that actually apply to buildings in the latently earthquake-prone region. Neither Syria's ruler Bashar al-Assad nor the rebels in the north of the country are allowing solid disaster relief by foreign forces. Enemy nations cannot be stopped from attacking each other even in this situation. Even in the Near East, there are sub-zero temperatures at this time of year. And the Kurds remain constantly the biggest loosers of them all anyway.

Fortunately, many humanitarian highlights are also showing up in the face of adversity. For example, even Sweden, reviled by Erdogan, is sending aid workers to eastern Anatolia. So is the beleaguered Ukraine, which surely would have been admitted a different set of priorities. And those that don't have appropriately equipped aid workers, like the United Arab Emirates, are opening their wallets. And every day there are - still! - improbable miracles, such as the rescue of a heavily pregnant woman who was rescued yesterday after 115 hours under rubble.

What somehow makes one optimistic despite the terrible circumstances is humanity. When people stand by each other in times of need, even though the religion they believe in actually dictates enmity. When official requirements are suspended in order to allow family members who have become homeless to travel to their relatives in Germany, for example. Or when the international community thinks not only about the current rescue, but also about reconstruction afterwards - the EU has already announced a donor conference for those affected.

Even the self-proclaimed crown of creation, which likes to define itself in terms of greed, resentment, jealousy or hatred, is capable of empathy. It's nice that the term "humanity" still has a positive connotation. Even though we so often seem to go out of our way to change that. The heart is probably more than just a blood-pumping muscle after all. And conscience more than a transmission in the synapses of the brain.

Personal happy moment of the week:

I broke a bottle of red wine while shopping the other day. And moistened various purchases in the carrier bag. I noticed most of it and was able to clean and dry it. That the red wine also flowed into a box of cigarillos, I did not even notice. Not until I wanted to smoke one and had a damp, soft stem in my hand. So I put the box open on the heater in the office. And discovered two pleasant side effects of my mishap: the smell of red wine and tobacco at work has an comfortable calming effect. And the taste of the cigarillos gets a pleasant additional flavor. From that perspective, I was able to profitably recycle some of the spilled red wine.

I couldn't care less...

...whether the former head of the Office for the Protection of the Constitution, Hans-Georg Maaßen, who is increasingly conspicuous for his racist and conspiracy-theory tones, can be officially expelled from the conservative CDU. Or whether the high good of freedom of speech also protects him within the party from accountability for his unspeakable statements. The fact that an obviously extreme right-winger could rise as a political official to become the head of the most important authority for upholding the state of lawfulness, of all things, weighs considerably more heavily and calls for more consequences than which membership card he carries around with him.

As I write this...

...I'm drinking a beer not even five hours after I got up today. A tough week in many ways takes its toll. And I tackle the challenge of relaxing Bavarian style.

Post Scriptum

In the German capital Berlin, the House of Representatives will be newly elected today - as a repeat election. This is because the regional election that took place in the fall of 2021 parallel to the federal election was declared invalid by the Administrative Court due to numerous mishaps - from ballots running hout to polling stations closing too late. Realpolitically less relevant, since no result of the election would change e.g. the majority conditions in the Bundesrat, is a look on Berlin nevertheless interesting. On the one hand, out of sarcasm, since this debacle also fits perfectly with the prejudice that simply nothing works in this city. On the other hand, out of curiosity, since in the end every conceivable party constellation is indeed possible. The extent of my tendency toward the former will depend on the first projection in less than an hour on the latter.

[secondary-analog-interface]

lmao paige isn’t going to leave uconn in 3 years if 1, she doesn’t win. bueckers is a winner, i highly doubt she’d be okay with leaving uconn 1) without a ring, 2) im almost certain her friendship w azzi would entice her to stay another year and leave with her after azzis 3rd. 2, if she keeps getting those huge nil deals while injured (sets her up further down the line and protects her in case of a wnba injury where they suspend her contract) and 3, paige considered minnesota before committing to uconn. she could’ve hometown heroed it in college but opted to go to uconn, im almost certain as much as she loves minnesota she’ll stop there later on in her wnba journey. plus, an athletes ego is a huge thing, as humble as she tends to be, she’s gunning for that #1 pick. back to back serious injuries are going to cause (slight) concern and probably open up wiggle room for clark to be considered a #1 pick if iowa does well and wiggles into an elite 8, final 4 spot. plus, reece doesn’t seem like the type to tank to me. collier came back to play w syl, is collier going to sit all of next year? they’ve still got solid pieces next year where even without syl they’ll probably be gunning for a late playoff spot.

(sorry i just find it weird to assume teams LIKE tanking and would opt to tank given the opportunity, minny is not one of those teams given the contracts to powers, mcbride, achonwa and collier. even if they trade all of them and burn it down for bueckers then what? you’ve got a shit situation for a rookie to be in)

((also i just realized one could point to how the sparks happened post cambage but that roster was disastrous from the start as a sparks fan, very little attention paid to defense and v little cohesion offensively plus all the scandals plus although i think nneka is better than napheesa the sparks roster was worse (take away the names, the players aren’t that great) and going from derek fucking fisher, professional bag fumbler, to fred williams and a shittier bench equals the sparks results))

the powers, mcbride, and achonwa contracts are TRAGIC. and that's coming from someone who's a pretty big kmac fan. i hope they can find a way to dump the achonwa contract. usually you can only afford to carry one bad contract like that.

but yeah they won't be tanking prior to the season starting. you get halfway through and you suck? sure, start being a little more cautious with injuries and stuff like that. but they're not going to have a shitty off-season intentionally, in hopes of getting a player that they can't even guarantee. (we all know indiana will still have the best odds).

it doesn't matter if paige is from minnesota if you have no control over where you fall in the lottery and who the teams ahead of you want to take. and reeve won't want to miss the playoffs twice in a row, that doesn't make it attractive for free agents.

[mattpoitrass7thgoal]

McAvoy and Mike has always been a solid pairing, like yes I like McGryz together and they are elite but mike and Charlie seem to work great together too and their combined offensive power is great and compliments each other well

[aaluminiumas]

Die for Me

あなたこそが “ 海賊王 ” に なる男

Lukewarm blood gushed out from the deep wounds. Ripping apart huge chunks of flesh and feeling the solidity of a bone inside, Monet genuinely relished her superiority savoring every note of the harrowing, blood-curdling shriek the woman in her deadly embrace emitted.

That Marine girl was no good at all; her tactics may not be exactly lame or useless, nor did she lack fervor or courage, but she turned out to be too modest and polite to attack – and also feeble. While the Marines claimed to have implemented a variety of brand-new top-notch techniques that would improve fighting skills of nearly any novice, they tended to send weaklings barely able to resist a simple scuffle, let alone serious combat with high ranks such as her or Caesar. This one wasn’t an exception to the rule: though promoted, Tashigi proved her disability to be on the offensive, thus confirming Monet’s expectations and dispelling the illusion of power Smoker had successfully created earlier.

“I adore it when you yell so desperately,” the Harpy muttered nonchalantly in the unctuous voice, her lips smeared with blood. “So I might break your scapula just for fun. My fangs can go through bone like butter. What a lovely day we are having, aren’t we?.. Care to brighten it further?”

Monet’s viselike grip tightened, and a bone cracked; Tashigi’s scream of utter anguish pierced the chaos and turmoil. In a moment, the woman limped in the Harpy’s wings. This last shrill seemed to have deserted her internally, leaving little to no stamina to stand up for herself and resist the throes shooting through her fragile body. The Harpy, though, felt no remorse or contrition. Quite on the contrary, she yielded into the perverse pleasure of being in charge – her well-nurtured sadistic inclinations and proclivities could finally splurge and flourish. Normally, it was Doflamingo whose hatred of the Marines came unwrapped. He was always in command; he was always aware of the potential threat and danger that could strike at any given moment, and now she could defend him from this invasion without an innuendo on his part. He had protected her in the past, bestowed a shelter, and took care of her younger sister—

“Enough.”

A low voice, hardly louder than Tashigi’s shallow breath muffled all the sounds, including explosions and the clash in the distant rooms. A swordsman with cold resolution in the single eye stood there, unmoving, his face serious, yet completely unreadable.

Monet’s fine features contorted in a lopsided smirk, her head withdrawing from Tashigi’s injured shoulder. Spoiled by pride, the swordsman didn’t seem to see a worthy opponent in her. Good for him, she thought. The Marine’s death would be on his hands – after all, he couldn’t compare to one of the best soldiers among the Donquixotes.

“I said enough,” he growled quietly, advancing and raising his katana, the silver eye narrowing. “Didn’t you hear?”

“She shouted too loudly. Should I shut her up?” Monet’s voice remained vaguely flirtatious, her antics jaunty, but the swordsman betrayed no emotion whatsoever. Instead, without a single warning, he pivoted forward, sword at the ready. Prancing at superhuman speed, the man neatly cut her in half – her logia powers weren’t a mere obstacle to him or his blade.

“I’m a Logia, you fool,” Monet spat with a haughty grin, “You think I’m scared?”

That fact alone contributed to her arrogance and hoity-toity attitude. While the majority of the Donquixote Family had to satisfy themselves with commonplace and hackneyed Paramecias, she got lucky – Doflamingo brought in a Logia fruit, the rarest type, and presented it to her. He might have intended to give it to Vergo, who hadn’t joined the number of the fruit-eaters and preferred to use his innate physical force. At any rate, such thoughts barely intruded on her mind: Doflamingo, the Young Master she worshipped, literally made her a gift desired by many. And what a scenery it was: he called in a meeting, ordered his favorite delicacies, thus forcing the whole city to cook for him, and sprawled across his improvised throne. Trebol, giggling under his breath, Diamante with his ever-lasting smirk, the imperturbable Pica, Vergo with the rigorous mien… Well, she was never part of the elite – nor did she plan to climb higher. The seat beside Doflamingo’s feet seemed comfortable enough to occupy – this position turned her into a valuable asset, who caught all the messages and orders intoned in a low, seductive voice. Despite that, the Young Master did not banish her – he remained seated, asking her to tell them all about her first murder – committed with a taste.

Logia powers made the bearer almost invincible, and Monet, a proficient user, trained by the best, especially by Vergo, knew what she was worth.

“I’m a Logia,” the Harpy repeated, the blizzard howling louder. “It doesn’t hurt me.”

“We’ll see,” came the answer.

Not even looking at her, the man grabbed the wounded woman and hurried to the exit, while Monet, absolutely dumbfounded, discovered that she could not get together. What appeared to be a single cut turned out to be a series of swift swishes in the air that slashed her snow-made body in a split second with the power that significantly surpassed her own. The result unfolded in slow motion: the more time went, the more it hurt; paralyzed, she listlessly perused the gashes opening in her skin – the man had inflicted much more damage than she had initially anticipated.

Furious, lacerated by what seemed to be a hundred blades, Monet yelled – and realized that it caused another wound to splay. The flesh got torn apart somewhere in her stomach and sent an impetus to the lungs prompting another incision to dehisce. The blood spurted up and flushed out from her mouth, staining the green shirt. Coughing, gagging, and covering her lips with a defective wing that had also been slit and now painted vermillion, the Harpy leaned over a gigantic machine with a red button on its panel. Half-conscious, she stared at it – it certainly was a way out. If she pushes it, the whole island will go up in flames. Nobody survived, case closed. Nobody discovers the dirty scheme Vergo had initiated in the Marine to abduct kids; nobody learns about the dubious experiments of the ambiguous nature performed by Caesar. Nobody connects Young Master – her Young Master – to the helter-skelter in the lab, nobody–

Her consciousness drifted away; small lacerations proved to be even worse than the deeper ones – blood didn’t stop from dripping, and she couldn’t control the amount she had lost. Falling to the ground, quivering, Monet twitched her wings in a fruitless attempt to maintain balance. It was overkill, anyway, at least she deemed so. Her wounds were fatal; she very well understood that she was a goner – but it was still in her power to prevent future events from happening.

Suddenly, Monet heard the quiet mumbling of a snail. Caesar, concerned about Joker’s supervision and unremitting control (the notion he strongly believed but which wasn’t true to the fact: Doflamingo, after Monet’s infiltration, called every once in a while, just to give the man heebie-jeebies, in case he felt lazy), installed snails everywhere, each equipped with a unique number. Only Joker could have access to them – no one else would be able to call here, the sanctum sanctorum of the lab.

The injured wing reached for the receiver, then twitched and fell. Trembling, the Harpy moaned in agony, choked on the blood, and made a feeble attempt to get up. Didn’t work; her face contorted in pure anguish. Invincible, trained, fortified by a number of experiments conducted under Doflamingo’s supervision, she never expected a failure. Especially a failure like this.

The snail kept grumbling, Monet whimpered; struggling to stand up, the Harpy felt a million needles skewering into her body, avulsing the thinnest and the tiniest blood vessels. She had to be slow not to disturb the veins that still remained intact. Making a superhuman effort, Monet propped herself up, her chest heaving, her wings jittered ever so slightly.  Panting, leaning over the tremendous apparatus towering over her, the Harpy managed to answer the call.

“Monet?” called a low, mellifluous voice coming from a snail. “Monet, do you read?”

“Yes, Young Master,” she mustered her shattered self to respond.

“I do not have the slightest idea what is happening right now,” he drawled pensively, “But it is certainly far from the plan I have drawn up.”

“They– they snatched Caesar.”

Doflamingo paused, pondering over her words. That loudmouth fool, calling himself a genius, failed to kick the teenager’s ass and let himself get captured by a bunch of mere kids playing real pirates. It had been funny to hear that that Strawhat Luffy defeated Sir Crocodile, one of the most feared and infamous warlords; after all, Doflamingo shook hands with the man and knew exactly what his weaknesses were, but Caesar Clown was another thing. First off, he claimed himself to be a brilliant scientist, and, in fact, he had managed to synthesize a drug that made children comparable to giants in force and probably in size. Furthermore, he used his earlier formulae and calculations, retrieved the readouts of the past experiments to create artificial Devil Fruits. So, he clearly was not a complete idiot. However, he employed none of his ingenious tricks to kill the annoying brat on sight when he had the opportunity.  Too bad the factory couldn’t work without his involvement – otherwise, Doflamingo himself would’ve got disposed of Caesar as well.

“Monet,” he finally spoke, his voice dropping down a notch. “You were loyal to me.”

“Till the end, Young Master,” she muttered, her voice not louder than a susurrus of wind.

“Die for me.” He commanded coolly, his eyes staring into space unwinkingly. “Monet, die for me and send this place to hell. Take them all along with you.”

“Yes, Young Master. I will do as you please.”

Her lips, covered with blood and gore, stretched in a gentle smile addressed to no one in particular. He cared about her. He wanted her to perform this last task for him, in the name of his future achievements and accomplishments, and she would not let him down.

She raised her wing, slightly quavering, preparing to hit the red button. Exuding a quiet hum, the Harpy lowered it – and gasped, immediately falling onto the ground with a loud, heavy thump.

“Monet?.. Monet, what’s happened? Monet, can you hear me?..”

She uttered a wheezing sound, and her visage froze in a rictus of death.

[laundryandtaxes]

Hi Julia, I'm gonna push back on your post re: nyc. I grew up in another city in New York State and moved to the city at 17 for work, never going to college. I've lived in three different boroughs, and never held a lease, just for context. I think the divide of "native New Yorker" vs "transplant" is in many ways created as a way of sewing division and doesn't reflect that in every strongly-rooted ethnic group, immigrant or otherwise, there is a certain amount of coming and going. For me, every generation of my fam has come here to live for a time since immigrating, despite moving to the south or Midwest. That's super common for my ethnicity and common in many other groups here.

Many if not most of my friends who grew up here have nuanced views on this, and when it gets down to it see it beyond a binary of "native vs nonnative". I think that viewing it as a binary isn't particularly useful. There are definitely alienated internal migrants and people who move to join elite communties, but most of my friends who grew up here have lived elsewhere for a time, and if there have family or ethnic community here aren't weird about it.

This model of discourse doesnt usually talk about the strongly rooted elite/borgeiouse here, and many people who migrate to NYC internally do it for social and economic reasons. Particularly pre-pandemic, the gay and ballroom scenes were massive draws, and jobs in certain industries are concentrated here. Wealthy residents are catered to, and certain type of internal migrant/wealthy expat/wealthy immigrant is definitely catered to by legislation that favors gentrification and has made the city a playground for the rich. The city has intentionally eroded public housing, but it remains that a higher percentage of residents live in public housing, rent controlled apartments well-below market value or recieve housing subsidies here than nearly any other city in the country. People will get on public housing and section 8 waiting lists and leave the city or even country. To be here and to stay here is very tenuous for many multigenerational residents. Regardless, migration and immigrantion have been part of NYC since it began having a distinct culture towards the 1820's. Culture and social creation has never been the exclusive domain of people born here, and NYC is what it is because of born-residents, immigrants, internal migrants and being a center of cultural and social community that draws people from around the world. If it was just one of these things it wouldn't be NYC.

NYC is a place that feels disconnected from the (rest of) the USA and I think that the politicization of desire to be here will have implications exacerbated by the pandemic.

Re: nyc again:

Many wealthy people leave nyc because there isn't a great bang for your buck in the same way as other parts of the country. It's honestly a shitty and expensive place for the rich lmao.

And many poor/working class people come here bc of enviable renters protections, higher wages, and special education for disabled kids. In particular people come from within the eastern seaboard, New England and south for all of these things.

Thank you for another perspective! I am not from New York myself, so my perception of the city comes largely from the accounts of friends who are from NYC, and media, but just like with anywhere you can’t get a complete picture of what a place is like based on those two things.

I will say that a lot of what you’ve said here strongly contradicts my idea of what the city is like, some of which is based on personal experience. I considered a move to NYC at some point with an ex girlfriend (which, holy shit thank goodness that didn’t work out) and I have to say that in particular the idea of NYC as a place with “enviable renters protections [and] higher wages” specifically doesn’t square with what I saw when I researched those two things. Wages in NYC for work that doesn’t require degrees didn’t look good at all, and as far as renter’s protections go, my current understanding is that rent control is awesome but that landlords regularly engage in tenant harassment to pressure rent controlled tenants out of units and the city does almost nothing about it. The second is based more on recent articles I read and news pieces I watched about NYC, but the last time I looked at wages in NYC I was extremely unimpressed given the cost of housing alone, and when I was running the numbers for myself (this was maybe 2015ish) I came away not understanding how anyone could possibly afford to live in the city unless they 1) made a ton of money, in order to afford the outstanding rents, or 2) got into a rent-controlled apartment, which it seemed it was not easy to do unless you knew someone, like I did at the time, who was basically going to tell their landlord to hand you the lease. Obviously I’m not saying you’re wrong, just that I am very surprised to hear that anyone thinks of NYC as a place with genuinely solid rent protections and good wages, because the last time I looked it really did not seem like either of those was the case. If that is the case, that’s awesome and I am very glad to hear it. The story I was told by friends was largely one of intense, almost unbearable pressure from gentrification and jobs not paying nearly enough for the cost of living and being actively displaced by people who came to the city with an absurd amount of money to spend. So if that isn’t actually the case, that’s very very good news because I kind of had what I THINK of as contemporary NYC built up in my head as this horror story of the worst things that could happen to a city.

I also am not intimately familiar with the culture of NYC, but I have to say that I don’t think I agree with the idea that ‘ "native New Yorker" vs "transplant" is in many ways created as a way of sewing division’ because I don’t think that concept is unique at all to NYC- I certainly have a lot of a specific kind of pride in having been born and raised in Chicago, I and most other Chicagoans consider it genuinely offensive and rude when people who grew up in suburbs nearby tell people they are from Chicago, I and most other Chicagoans see ourselves, I would say, as a particular breed of people who share a particular kind of roots in this place, and I don’t think that pride is harmful or bad in any way. I would never tell someone that moving here is an evil thing to do- I consider roughly 10 years of residency to grant you the right to refer to yourself as a Chicagoan and not just a Chicago resident lol- or say that transplants to Chicago are categorically bad people. Half of that is just stupid cultural stuff, really, and shouldn’t be taken very seriously. But I don’t think the concept itself is bad. I have a fundamentally different relationship to Chicago than someone who grew up anywhere else and moved here, no matter how long they moved here, and I don’t think it is harmful at all to be open about and proud of that. I would never make the claim that transplants haven’t made massive contributions to the city, and I would assume most native New Yorkers wouldn’t make that claim about transplants to NYC.

Thank you for sharing your personal understanding of the situation there, and I am very surprised to hear that the proportion of residents in NYC who live in public or rent controlled housing is quite high, and glad to hear it. As needlessly aggressive as Chicagoans (myself included) can be when “New York” is even uttered aloud, I obviously have a lot of real respect for the city and I am glad to hear that it hasn’t just been mostly ruined in the way I had imagined it. This is a good lesson in taking any media you see about a place whose name will get clicks/engagement just by virtue of the aura of the place (New York, Chicago, San Francisco, etc) with several grains of salt. If I was only familiar with Chicago through media I’d think it was some super dangerous place when it definitely isn’t categorically. 

[dani-the-mark]

AEW Dynamite 9/1/21 Review

FTR vs Santana and Ortiz

Good to see ya, guys.

They busted the door down here. Solid start, high energy, slick transitions, a couple of messy spots, but seemed high-risk high-reward. Chicago is eating this up, and I can tell this is going to be a great crowd

CM Punk Promo

He’s passionate here and used his time wisely. 2.0s attack was surprising, but Darby’s defense of punk was even more so. They respect each other so much. It was also nice to hear Sting will taking a back seat to let the light shine on them.

Tony Schiavone interviews MJF

I mean, he is not completely wrong but he says it is the most venomous delivery you hat him anyway.

Orange Cassidy vs Jack Evans

Hardy gets kicked out immediately. Is a ref doing his job well? Surprise surprise. These two put a lot of energy in. My half complaints are that the hold switch was goofy and went on maybe a bit too long. Also, the finish happened maybe too fast, but I didn’t mind matt getting some revenge time.

I did love the reaction to Juggle express, just so pure.

Jim Ross interviews Chris Jericho

I love him and his barbeque sauce. The crowd singing louder than the music, the real feeling behind Jericho’s words. I have chills and I am stressed. Seeing him so emotional and It’s scaring me into thinking he’s going to lose Sunday.

Regardless, Chicago is Jericho

Brian Cage vs Powerhouse Hobbs

I looked down for one minute and arms are swinging. These are two thick-strength guys, and it’s hard for them to not be impressive. It felt like no one cared, which is fair because so much has already happened. Both had solid power, but I feel they were given too much time.

Paul White Segment

Big man beats up a gaggle of small men. Good to see nothing has changed for Mr. White. Billy Gunn and QT lashing out at him were so genuinely painful to watch. I just want to hug him.

Penelope Ford vs Tay Conti

Tay has a point to prove here, you can see that in her face here. I loved the submission trade and Anna Jay’s interjection. I liked the match overall, but I don’t think it deserved the, granted very weak, “this is awesome” chant.

Jungle Express and Lucha Bros vs The Elite

A quadruple superkick? Jungle boy transitioning a not-so-great powerbomb to a multiperson offense? The use of match partners ar projectiles? Maybe too many pin breaks? The post-match attack and use of the cage? All Priceless.

[samuraiisms]

The Land of Iron: Pokemon AU

While the rest of the world may enjoy a plethora of fair and foul weather, the Land of Iron remains a constant; the icy landscape having become a veritable breeding ground for some of the most powerful Pokemon Trainers in the world. Aside from their dogged Gym Leaders and top notch Elite Four, they are also the only participating country in the March of Valor; a gauntlet of Pokemon Battles where a Trainer must fight with their team, one Trainer after the next, until the entire team has fainted.

Will you forge a stronger destiny here?

The First Gym: Tokeru Town

The Ground-Type Gym rests in the gateway of the Land of Iron, and the area is about as warm as the Land of Iron could possibly get for being trapped in eternal winter. Urakaku is its Gym Leader, the staunchly stubborn samurai governor of Tokeru Town and guardian to the gates. In fact, outsiders to the Land of Iron may not participate in the Gym Challenge without his permission, and later admission, to his Gym. Urakaku’s partner Pokemon Gastrodon also helps the samurai in protecting and continuing the farming community surrounding Tokeru Town.

Second Gym: Kariudo Village

A small town in the high forests where the road splits towards the East and West, Kariudo Village is a prolific ground for hunters of Pokemon. With some of the biggest variety of Pokemon types in their Black Forest, a wanderer will have nothing but luck whether they proceed East or West in finding new partners. The Dark Type Gym, resting in the depths of its sacred ground to Hoori, the God of the Hunt. The Gym Leader Hohohemi is not only a master collector of all types of rare Pokemon, but also a devious strategist and Trainer. With his wily Mightyena at his side, he’ll hunt down any quarry.

Third Gym: Iwahachi Town

To the East, where the mountains become steep and mining becomes more commonplace, you’ll find a rocky village built in the mountainside in the remains of old mines. Though rough on the outside, within lies an artful community dedicated to the mining of precious iron, the country’s namesake, and has many beautiful rock gardens. The Rock Type Gym, run by the elderly Kenshin, is a test of time. Laying in the center of the mountain, battered by an icy waterfall, Kenshin earns his endurance throughout the ages with his partner Stonjourner. If the weight is too heavy to bear, Kenshin may be more than you can handle!

Fourth Gym: The Iron Capital

The bustling Capital is the largest city in the Land of Iron, home of the daimyo and the illustrous Fighting-Type Gym. If you don’t get swept up shopping, you can tour the Iron Daimyo’s glorious palace, and even join in friendly duels for his amusement. The Daimyo pays well for energetic battles and many samurai Trainers set out to impress him. Harder to impress than even the daimyo, is the Fighting Gym Leader Otomo. Known as the Dragon Fist, this boiling pot of power and fury has sent many Gym Challenge hopefuls scrambling for cover. When his beloved partner Urshifu faces you, you’ll feel the Dragon’s rage!

Fifth Gym: Furin Village

A small, quiet village in the West, it sits atop a beautiful snow capped mountain range, and has some of the best views in the Land of Iron. It’s also no easy climb for those wishing to challenge the Normal-Type Gym, as the mountain is dangerous steep and swarming with aggressive Flying Pokemon who will swoop in out of nowhere. Gym Leader Masamune, the quiet, collected master Trainer, is reported to know all the secrets to maximizing even the weakest Pokemon’s full potential. Though Normal-Type Pokemon often pale in comparison to others, his powerful partner Staraptor is no laughing matter.

Sixth Gym: Sei-an City

A beautiful holiday getaway for the Land of Iron, Sei-an City rests atop a large lake, and is the home of many artisans. The home of the revered Ice Gym, Seian is easy to approach on foot, as the lake is frozen almost year round. Though you will have not trouble getting to the city, or finding fun souvenirs and artistic trinkets, you will be less capable of getting past Gym Leader Okisuke. The Gym Leader is known as the biggest obstacle for those wishing to continue travel in the West, and with a powerful Pokemon like Glaceon at his side, it’s no wonder. He’ll freeze you solid!

Seventh Gym: Kiken Heights

So close to the end you can see the Elite Four from its ice-tipped towers, Kiken Heights is a military town and complex with building so tall they have to be bolted to the mountains to keep them from swaying in the icy wind. The home of the Flying-Type Gym, Kiken Heights has tested the mettle of many samurai Trainers with a fear of falling. The only women in the Gym Challenge, twin Gym Leaders Tsumichiko and Jumichiko await at the tallest twin towers and duel their opponents from a distant pedastal in the sky. Each of their beloved Oricorio will leave you battered and speechless, and maybe with more than your fair share of vertigo!

Eight Gym: Tatomi Village

Despite being the home of the last Gym before the Elite Four, Tatomi Village is naught but a simple woodcutting village with thick forests and beautiful serenity and peace. This is less a place for adventure than it is for settling down after a long journey, but resist the urge to rest your heels for long. General Mifune, the Steel-Type Gym Leader and one of the strongest Trainers in the Land of Iron, awaits as both teacher and master to all who challenge him. Having taught and groomed several other Gym Leaders before, he and his Bisharp have stood the test of time again and again, and their defeat is an admission to one of the highest honors available.

Elite Four:

The Iron Road is one of the most brutal landscapes in the country, not only peppered with Trainers hoping to make it up the summit of the Mountain of Three Wolves, but also with icy slopes that will send any overly confident trainer sliding back to the beginning. And even then you must reckon with the mountain’s guardian, a powerful Pokemon that is said to be the guardian deity of the Land of Iron.

Elite Four Kusanagi: Grass Type

In his chamber, beset by large fresh pines, Kusanagi awaits as the Grass-Pokemon Master of the Elite Four. A woodcutter and natural conservationist of the Land of Iron, he has worked diligently to preserve the land’s natural beauty and wildlife through his conservation efforts. His Chesnaught has been with him since he was a boy, and makes him no walk in the park.

Elite Four Murasame: Poison Type

Though he has a scary face and a room full of incense burners surrounded by a pit of liquid tar, Murasame is shockingly casual, and a former incense merchant who ended up going on a Pokemon journey of his own. Though he gets a bad rep for his Pokemon Type, he claims that within every poison is an antidote, a medicine, and he has no regrets. Neither should he, his partner Nidoking will shut down any offenses against him in rapid time.

Elite Four Kawako: Water Type

While the room is flooded by crisp, clean spring water, it is also surrounded by ice, the melting glaciers. The refined, quiet Kawako rests here as mistress of the Water-Type Pokemon, a former resident of Sei-an City and an elegant dancing master as well. Though the land is perpetually covered in ice and snow, Kawako reminds the world of the purity of their water, and of their bond to the earth. Indeed, for her Politoed is not just a water conservationist, but a wily Pokemon to beat.

Elite Four Narukami: Electric Type

A ground impaled with swords is a dangerous place to play when a lightning storm brews above. With the room occasionally lit up with violent lightning, it’s no wonder Narukami’s challenge is one of the most gripping and unnerving ones to date. A fierce warrior and trainer, Narukami cares for nothing more than strength and improvement through training. And few are ready to disagree with his outlook. His partner Luxray has silenced more than its fair share of Trainers who thought they could cross him.

The March of Valor:

To those who have challenged the Elite Four, win or lose, they earn a place in the March of Valor. Arguably it’s the most difficult challenge in the world; competitors fight in a gauntlet of battles with their full team and limited healing items until at last each one is defeated. Though the fighting seems to go one forever, the challenge ends when a Trainer manages to defeat 100 challengers in a row, to which they receive the highest honor and decoration to any Pokemon warrior there is.

With the medal presented upon beating the March of Valor, a Trainer may visit any place he or she pleases in the Land of Iron, even into restricted areas containing the nesting grounds of dangerous Pokemon.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Death Servitor Lore Pt 1

A response to this post about Death Servitors: this is not an exhaustive reference because it does not go into those deliberately created by Herzog, but it does pretty much cover those ‘traditional’ types of Death Servitor

There is more than one type of Death Servitor (aka Deadpool, Dead Servant, Dead Waiter):

Type one: Undead Zombie Deadpool, Awakened by Dragonkind with a special Word Spirit (EX Skill):

The rain splashed on Menek's face, drenching his hair. He and the Chinese man were less than half a foot apart, staring at each other's eyes, and the Yatcan long knife penetrated the opponent completely under Menek's all-out sprint, together with his solid metal armor. But this terrible penetrating injury was not fatal. The Chinese man's pupils were full of indifference and his hands held Menek's blade with great strength. 

The knife should go through the opponents heart, but the slightest heartbeat cannot be detected on the handle. 

"Deadpool!" 

Menek whispered, "It's a pity you can't be studied as a living body... you are already dead."Menek slowly drew the long  knife from the dead servants heart, letting the dead servant kneel at his feet, the flame reflecting the dead servant's body on the knife. The rain washed Menek's long knife and washed away the black blood from it. The silent north western Chinese men, a group of dead waiters, gathered from all around, surrounded the burning companions, silently revealed the sharp blades in their hands and untied their black ponchos

.Anjou: "My question is, who suggested to the Qing government to use the dragon "undead" as a force? Those who attack us? Those who can awaken Deadpool must have the same dragon blood as us.""...At the same time they transported a batch of deadpools of dragon blood to Hambug, and awakened them in Germany with the power of a Word Spirit"

Dragon Raja Prequel -- Wings of Mourning

Overwhelming fear suddenly surrounded Chu Zihang. He glanced at the speedometer at 120 kilometers per hour. Who can chase this Maybach on the elevated road while reaching out and knocking on the door?

The knock on the door rushed up, not alone, but three, five -- more and more figures gathered outside the car. They were covered with the rain water and stared at Chu Zihang condescendingly. A dazzling silver light came in from outside the window, illuminating the  pale faces of Chu Zihang and the man (his father). The man turned to look at Chu Zihang, trying his best to suppress the tremor in his voice, "Don't be afraid... son!"

The knock on the door turned into a harsh sound of a sharp object scratching on the steel and glass. Chu Zihang thought that it was the nails of the shadows.

The speed reached 180 kilometers per hour within a few seconds and it was still going on, because they could not get rid of those shadows. Mercury-silver light came in from all directions, and there were so many dark shadows surrounding the Maybach in the light. Standing silently like a group of death gods surrounding the bed of the dying. They opened their eyes together and their golden pupils were as bright as a torch.

Dragon Raja Two:  The Mourning Eyes

Type Two: Over threshold Hybrids turned Dragon Servants, called by dragons and oppose the the Secret party (Examples would likely include Mai Sakatoku, Enxi Su, and Renata (Zero)) Willing to die for their dragon Masters

Anjou: "The dragon gene is very special. Once the proportion exceeds 50% the dragon gene has the ability to change the human part of the gene. For this extremely aggressive gene, the human gene is inferior. After the dragon genes are revised again and again, eventually the hybrid will becomes very close to pure blood, the human part will be swallowed, and the dragon part will become more awakened.

Mingfei: "The result will become a pure blood dragon?"

Anjou: "It's infinitely close, but its never reachable. The principal sighed. "The Deadpool is also a sad race. They want to be pure bred, but they are different from real dragons. The true pure bred dragons are only ancient dragons. The ancient dragons regard these people as servants and drive them, but they don't recognize them. They look very much like humans and they are hard to be noticed in the crowd. Some of them have extremely long lifespans because of their blood. The purebred dragons will select some people from them. Transforming their bodies, making them between life and death. They hide their identities among generations of humans, waiting for the dragon kings to recover and prepare to meet them. In fact. They are our toughest enemies, as long as we are fully prepared, it is not difficult to kill a dragon king who is about to recover, but once the Deadpool interfere in the process, it will be very dangerous."

Menek: "Why? It is not easy for you to control the spirit of words like this. No matter how pure your blood is, it is not the ancient first generation or second generation dragon race, so you will be drained to death." Menek stepped back slowly, he did not expect his opponent to suddenly show a desperate offensive posture. This way of releasing power was poised to squeeze his opponent dry. He doesn't care about those deadpools. With Viscount Charlotte's flint lock and his Atcan long knife, the top elites of the secret party gather together. Deadpool does not have enough combat power without a leader and he has seriously injured the leader

.... "You say in Chinese you are 'burning the forest down to hunt?" Meneck said as he looked around, the dead waiters also approached at the same time, their bodies began to change, and their hands were stacked with scales, sharp as awls. The iron blue claws replaced the original hands. They seemed to be besieged by a pack of wolves, and the pack of wolves looked forward to the fresh meat.

"Because I can't go back to China, I knew before I set off that I have only one mission here, and you know it." The woman's (deadpool's) voice revolved with the storm, as if she rushed down from the sky carrying a majestic God.

"Dragon Raja Prequel -- Wings of Mourning

"But Rest assured, your dragon bloodline ratio does not exceed 50% and more than 50% of the students will not be admitted. Although their potential is far beyond ordinary people, the dragon bloodline will slowly assimilate them into dragon followers." Professor Guderian said.

Dragon Raja Book 1: Dawn of Fire

Type Three: Dragon Temple/Tomb Guardians (AKA Corpse Guard)

"Things in the legend. The corpses of dragons will not be corrupted for many years after death. The dragons use alchemy to concoct the corpses of their own kind and use them as guardians of the city. This is a forbidden technique, until the time of the ancient Egypt. The corpses of pharoahs and nobles were reprocessed with this technique in an attempt to make them immortal but they were only able to preserve the corpses, but failed to preserve the activity of nerves and muscles, so they could not create real walking corpses." Caesar said, "If this is a dragon city, the corpse must be buried vertically in the middle of the foundation, the blood of the embryo woke them up! Damn it! Some one must have done this deliberately. The Lenin rushed into the ruins with the embryo to activate this Ancient city!"

Chu Zihang saw from the observation window below, scarlet water mist gushing from the ground of the ruins, and the dragon blood flowing under the ruins filled the ground, and slender living creatures crawled out of the cracks in the ground. The cracks envelope these baby's after birth. Their bodies glowed with a metallic luster, and their pupils were ferocious golden. Because they were sleeping for too long, they could not get up, crawling on the seabed, twisting their slender lower body. But the body, after being nourished by the dragon blood immediately recovered its ancient strength,. They leaped suddenly, swinging their long tails and floating up quickly. "Snake tail... human body." Chu Zihang said softly, "These are not purebred dragon, they were also hybrids before when they were alive. This is not a dragon city, but it was built by the ancestors of today's hybrids!"

Dragon Raja III: Black Moon Tide

To be continued.....

[ratac1d]

AFK Arena Tips, Tricks, and Heroes for the Abyssal Expedition

The Abyssal campaign was pretty fun. It was an entirely different occasion, with various procedures, groups, and managers. There was a great deal to take in, and every little thing about it was new to the point that not many had a smart thought of how to beat it until two or three days.

Luckily, that was the first. Like they evidently state about nurturing, it's just terrifying the first run through on the grounds that you don't have the foggiest idea what you're doing. Thus, we have the experience, and luckily, we'll have a genuine responsibility from all players (on the off chance that you do the precious stone enlistment thing), so this time it will be incredible.

Anyway, for what reason am I making this post? All things considered, there's a great deal of ground to cover in this occasion. It's a misuse of endurance to utilize your full LB meta group in a powerless spot, and luckily, you don't need to! Here are a few hints, stunts, and saints I'd recommend executing into your techniques:

1. Use as hardly any saints as conceivable in a battle.

In deep, there's an endurance meter for each saint. They start off with 60 energy and gain 4 consistently. Most fights require 12 energy from each legend required to begin, and you get some back by beating the stage with certain conditions. One star on the off chance that you beat it, a star if no one kicks the bucket in the fight, and a star on the off chance that you win inside 30 seconds of the beginning. Each star you acquire gives both of you energy back, which means you can net a deficiency of just six energy.

Be that as it may, here's an interesting point: you could utilize four legends in a fight to get three stars on a fight, or utilize one saint to two-star it (in the event that you win a performance, the base is two stars since you'd lose on the off chance that somebody kicked the bucket). Without a doubt, the four saints lose less energy independently, however you'll generally lose 24 energy, rather than losing 8 by soloing it. Particularly if it's a saint you wouldn't regularly use in a group comp in any case, it's very justified, despite any trouble to solo it at whatever point you can. (Except if it requires 3 legends to one star when you realize you can three-star with five, at that point it's a deficiency of 30 energy in any case.)

2. (modified) Have a solid list from the beginning.

A significant piece of this occasion is the honored embodiment. It tends to be utilized to purchase relics, which buff legends in various branches. (More on branches in another tip.) Blessed quintessence is obtained from taking out towns, towns, and urban communities. Notwithstanding, the underlying buffs from the tree (regarding HP, atk, def) presumably won't sufficiently be to quickly begin running your Elite+ and Legendary saints.

Accordingly, my recommendation is utilize your acceptable saints at a high rising except if A, they as of now work at lower climbs (Mehira for instance) or B, they're a manager executioner (like Cecilia or Saurus). At that point, when the branches begin arriving at lv 2 or 3 when the detail buffs make climbs practically inconsequential, you can begin turning out with the E+ young men.

Fundamentally, attempt to plan what saints you put in your list so you can limit energy use and augment results (grimy deeds done bargain basement, I needed to). You just get 10-25 saints relying upon your position, so pick shrewdly!

3. Construct your branches, particularly the ones you use.

Much the same as in the ordinary game, the Abyssal campaign has a tree, with branches that buff the saints in them. In contrast to the customary game, be that as it may, each branch is great (if you don't mind buff mage branch). You won't turn out badly in building any of them, so attempt to organize the branch you have numerous legends in, and on the off chance that you have any saints in it, buff the officer branch too (likely the best one of the five). In any case, you'll most likely need to overhaul each branch for journeys, and it's simply a smart thought to do that in any case. That is to say, it isn't so costly, so what do you need to lose?

4. Facilitate with the civilian army and construct common trust.

This occasion is certainly not an independent occasion. You'll presumably be separated from everyone else for the main day or two, however attempt to associate with different players as fast as could be expected under the circumstances. Since players that are associated can assault anyplace associated with a common like, your gathering will advance route quicker than if there were 70 lines made a beeline for the last chief.

On a comparative note, you'll likely need to collaborate with another person to take out your first towns and urban communities since they're so troublesome. Simply know that the individual who murders the last adversary involves the region that was all in all battled for, so make certain to inquire as to whether they need it before you kill it after another gathering was at that point attempting to take it. That is simply mean. Have the activity to help other people before they help you, it will pay off over the long haul since you'll have the option to rapidly trust everyone around you. I realize that seems like some sort of kindergarten educator stuff to state (no offense to any kindergarten instructors out there), however it's actual, it caused me out so much the last time and made the occasion more fun.

So those were the principle tips and deceives I needed to discuss, presently for some saints I utilized that were great:

Orthros Icon

1. Orthros–obviously they're revamping the tank branch (presumably in light of the number of individuals griped about Orthros), however I figured that on the off chance that you can't beat em, join em! He was truly tanky last time; even at L+, he was killing it! Likely in light of the fact that risings don't make a difference that much yet whatever.

Fundamentally, Orthros has an aloof capacity where he gets more max HP until he's at 150% of his base, at that point mends 3% of his HP consistently. That doesn't seem as though a great deal, yet since he has 1.5 occasions his maximum HP, it's more similar to 4.5% of his HP every second. The tank branch at that point expanded HP regen by half, which means he was mending practically 7% of his HP every second. That, alongside his ult, which let him recuperate even in halted time, made him practically unkillable except if you had silly blasted harm or Ferael/Oden. Talking about…

Oden Icon

2. Oden–another instance of "in the event that you can't beat em, join em." When he was on the foe side, he truly screwed with your group. He moves legends into one another, takes their energy, and does gigantic AoE harm, particularly when he gets his eyes opened.

Clearly, that implies you can gain by it by utilizing him in your group! Consolidate him with another AoE unit (like perhaps Skriath or… no not going to make reference to him), and you have a wombo combo, dynamic couple, um… torment train, energy pick up, Bruce Wayne. (what am I sayn'?)

Warek Ascended

3. Warek–so you think about mission Warek? Better believe it, he kinda sucks to battle against, and you know why. However, imagine a scenario where I revealed to you that he could do that for you.

Warek on your side with overhauled may is a beast. Envision him in the mission, yet about twice as great and can solo an adversary group with no issue (so fundamentally envision him twice as great, he could as of now devastate me). This Madlad can be utilized at any climb in view of the base detail buff, yet clearly, he will improve a SI and stuff. That is to say, you're presumably previously utilizing him for supervisor battles, you should mess around with him somewhere else.

Estrilda Ascended

4. Estrilda–she's likely the legend that is polished the third-most by the powerful tree. Where Warek was a unit, Estrilda is a super unit, with all the AoE she bargains and the existence siphon she gains from the tree. Once more, you're presumably utilizing her as of now, yet she can without much of a stretch performance battles on the off chance that you need to rapidly move to certain urban communities or a chief.

Rigby Icon

5. Rigby–(Quick aside here, I will let you folks realize that Rigby is my #1 legend in the game. I use him a great deal, so I know a ton about what he can do.) If saints like Warek and Estrilda picked up great buffs from the might branch, Rigby turns into a beast with it. Envision a saint with 90% harm decrease, more than 150 scurry, and huge loads of life siphon when he's at low HP. As far as I might be concerned, that is the meaning of OP, and you'll certainly observe it on the off chance that you use him. He can likewise harm supervisors, not exactly Saurus level yet at the same time strong generally speaking.

That is pretty much all I need to state on this. I will likely refresh this post as I experience the occasion for the subsequent time, regardless of whether to add more tips and deceives or to share some offbeat legends that my gathering has had accomplishment with. I trust this is a decent first guide, I plan on adding more here!

Read more about Abyssal Expedition here.

[ronanivarsson]

“I WAS BORN FOR SOMETHING GREATER THAN I WAS--AND GREATER I WOULD BECOME.” | MARY SHELLEY 

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: Ronan Ivarsson

MEANING:

RONAN ( IRISH ) - “LITTLE SEAL” 

IVARSSON ( SWEDISH ) - “SON OF IVAR” 

NICKNAME(S): Ronan has never had a nickname, and would never allow someone to call him by a nickname. He’s only ever been Ronan, even to both of his parents. The only acceptation would be if someone called him by his last name. 

PREFERRED NAME(S): Ronan

BIRTH DATE: December 13th, 1980

AGE: 39

ZODIAC: Sagittarius 

GENDER: Male

PRONOUNS: He / His

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual 

NATIONALITY: Italian

ETHNICITY: Swedish 

CURRENT LOCATION: Verona, Italy 

LIVING CONDITIONS: Ronan lives in an expensive top floor penthouse near the center of Verona, which is furnished exactly to his tastes--dark wood, sleek metals, dark leather. He bought it shortly after being married to Lucien, but his husband rarely ever stays for more than a couple of days or weeks, which means that most of the time Ronan lives alone. It is also outfitted to be more accessible for him. 

TITLE(S): Richard III, The Vice, Councilman 

BACKGROUND

BIRTHPLACE / HOMETOWN: Stockholm, Sweden / Verona, Italy 

SOCIAL CLASS: Ronan was born into a wealthy, upper class family, and his wealth has only increased since he became the sole bearer of that family name. He considers himself to be among Verona’s elite, though in the end he holds no love for that title--in his own mind, he is better than everyone in Verona. 

EDUCATION LEVEL: Ronan graduated university with a degree in political science. 

FATHER: Magnus Ivarsson

MOTHER: Joanna Ivarsson. 

SIBLING(S): None as far as he knows, but his parents cheated on each other throughout their marriage, and his mother could have very well had other children without telling him. 

CHILDREN: None

PET(S): None

OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: All of Ronan’s other relatives are back in Sweden, and he does not communicate with them. (No brothers or nephews to do anything horrible to--yet!) 

PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS:

Caleb Tallmadge: An intern at the American embassy, who was Ronan’s first serious boyfriend right out of college. 

Rafaella Capulet: The love of his life, his soulmate as far as he’s concerned. Their relationship deteriorated when he became a member of the Montagues, and with the exception of one night after Ronan became engaged to Lucien, they have not spoken since. 

Lucien Ivarsson: Ronan’s husband, who he met shortly after things with Rafaella fell apart. Ronan fell out of love with him quickly, and their relationship is barely functional at the present--they appear in public together before going their separate ways, with the exception of rare moments where they fall together violently. 

Renzo Carozza: A distraction bordering on an addiction. 

ARRESTS?: None.

PRISON TIME?: None. 

OCCUPATION + HOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Ronan is an elected councilman in the city of Verona, and his family has several investments that he manages. 

SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: His salary as a Montague Soldato--a trifle in comparison to what he already has, however, he isn’t interested in earning money from the position. 

CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: Ronan loves being the center of attention, and the power that he commands as a politician. His ambition extends far beyond his current office however, and he’d like to eventually run for more prestigious positions. 

PAST JOB(S): Ronan interned with the mayor’s office right out of college, and steadily worked his way to his current position. He has only ever worked in politics. 

SPENDING HABITS: Ronan felt like an outsider growing up, so he uses his money to purchase the life he feels like he deserves, the life he always wanted. As long as he has money, and lots of it, he feels safe--it’s as much an armor as the designer suits he puts on every day. He’s always aware of exactly how much he has, and ways that he could obtain more. 

MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: A first edition of Frankenstein, his favorite novel. He bought it right after his mother died and he became the sole heir of the Ivarsson fortune. 

SKILLS + ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 4/10

Ronan was born with limb-girdle muscular dystrophy, which means that the muscles of his arms and legs are very weak. He does what he can to stay as good of shape as possible, and he is capable of doing the bare minimum required of a Montague soldier. 

OFFENSE: 4/10

Ronan would prefer not to get into a physical altercation, but he knows the bare minimum of fighting techniques. He can throw a punch with accuracy, that would hurt reasonably. His strength is his ability to see other people’s weaknesses fairly quickly, and fight cleverly. 

DEFENSE: 5/10

Defense requires less physical exertion, which means Ronan is stronger in that area. 

SPEED: 0/10 

Ronan walks with a cane, and isn’t really capable of running. 

INTELLIGENCE: 10/10

Because he can’t fight with his fists, Ronan made his mind into a weapon. He’s well read, he attended one of the finest universities where he attained excellent grades, and he is well studied in the arts of manipulation. He can read people’s facial expressions with astounding accuracy, he is excellent at verbally manipulating people into action, and more than anything, he is capable of inspiring great loyalty in people through deception, though words, through the weaknesses they were so certain they could hide. Its the same principle as your other senses heightening when one is deprived--Ronan couldn’t fight physically, so he made sure every other power he possessed worked at maximum capacity. 

ACCURACY: 5/10 

The muscles in Ronan’s arms and shoulders are weak, but he can sustain the position necessary to fire a gun long enough to be average with it. 

AGILITY: 0/10

Ronan is not agile at all--his muscles are too weak to allow him to do anything agile. 

STAMINA: 7/10

Ronan is used to pain--his spine and his shoulders, his legs, all cause him pain on a regular basis. His daily life requires an amount of stamina that the average person doesn’t have to exert. 

TEAMWORK: 0/10

He allows others to think they’re working with him, that they’re part of a team with him, but he’s always looking out for himself and his own designs first and foremost. Other people are merely pieces he can move around, or discard, as they present themselves as useful to him. 

TALENTS: Ronan is excellent at public speaking, and his public persona is very magnetic. He is skilled at manipulating people, at reading their faces, at ferreting out their weaknesses. He played the violin growing up and still plays occasionally when he needs to clear his mind, and he enjoys playing chess. 

SHORTCOMINGS: Ronan is incredibly narcissistic, with little to no empathy for anyone. He cares exclusively for himself and the things that he wants, and he doesn’t care who he has to hurt, whatever he has to do, in order to get them. He is also incredibly greedy, and one of his primary interests is getting more money for himself. 

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: Italian, Swedish, Latin, English 

DRIVE?: No, he’s always had a driver. 

JUMP-START A CAR?: No, that’s what mechanics or new cars are for. 

CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: No. 

RIDE A BICYCLE?: No, he physically can’t. 

SWIM?: Yes. 

PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: Yes, he plays the violin on occasion. 

PLAY CHESS?: Yes, and at a high level.

BRAID HAIR?: No. 

TIE A TIE?: Absolutely, a nice tie can make or break an outfit. 

PICK A LOCK?: Yes. 

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE + CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Joel Kinnaman 

EYE COLOR: Brown

HAIR COLOR: Blonde 

HAIR TYPE/STYLE: He likes to stay pretty trendy--his current haircut is short on the sides and long on top, slicked back. 

GLASSES/CONTACTS?: None. 

DOMINANT HAND: Right

HEIGHT: 6′2 at his full height, but he usually is hunched over to varying degrees, rendering him about 5′10-6′0 to the eye. 

WEIGHT: 165

BUILD: He has a solid build, keeps what muscle he’s able to gain. 

EXERCISE HABITS: Swimming, lifting weights, physical therapy. 

SKIN TONE: Pale, but he tans pretty easily. 

TATTOOS: None, mostly because of his physical condition--but that could change if he found a person he trusted to give him one ;) 

PIERCINGS: None.

MARKS/SCARS: He has various scars from his work as a Montague soldier, and a few from when his mother was feeling particularly vindictive. 

NOTABLE FEATURES: Keen and sharp eyes, a mouth that seems to always be smirking to some degree, a sharp jawline. 

USUAL EXPRESSION: Pensive, like he’s looking for a weakness in your armor you didn’t even know you had, like he can see straight through you. 

CLOTHING STYLE: Designer suits, designer t-shirts and jeans, luxurious fabrics that feel nice against his back and shoulders, expensive watches, silk ties, all neutral and dark colors. Even his casual is dressed up from the average person. He also has several different canes with different heads on them. 

JEWELRY: He has a weakness for a nice watch, and if he’s in public he’s probably wearing his wedding ring. He also considers a cane as an accessory, and changes which one he uses depending on what he’s wearing.  

MAKEUP: None. 

ALLERGIES: None. 

DIET: He never had to cook for himself, so he generally orders out from Verona’s nicer restaurants. He drinks socially, and doesn’t really indulge in sugar that often. If Lucien is there and feels like cooking, he’ll eat whatever his husband makes. 

PHYSICAL AILMENTS: Ronan was born with limb-girdle muscular dystrophy, which means the muscles in his arms, shoulders, and legs are weakened. His lower back is curved, and the bones of his shoulders protrude in something called “scapular winging”. He wears a back brace most of the time to prevent a pronounced hunch and to lessen the pain in his spine, and he attends physical therapy anywhere from once to three times a week to deal with it.  

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: ENTP 

ENNEAGRAM TYPE: Type 3, The Achiever. The success-oriented, pragmatic type: adaptable, excelling, driven, and image conscious. 

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Lawful Evil

TEMPERAMENT: Choleric 

ELEMENT: Fire

PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Intra-personal Intelligence. 

MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: None officially diagnosed--a case could probably be made for narcissistic personality disorder. 

SOCIABILITY: Ronan is very sociable--after being forced to the shadows throughout his entire childhood, he loves nothing more than commanding a room, than being the center of everyone’s attention. He doesn’t care about people on a deeper level than that, but he likes being around them--he’d be a terrible politician if he wasn’t able to make people believe that they liked him, that he had their best interests at heart. Again I quote Les Miserables, “He was a charming young man, capable of being terrible.”  

EMOTIONAL STABILITY: Ronan doesn’t allow his emotion to get the better of him most of the time--he believes that emotion gets in the way of logic, prevents people from making the best, most rational decisions. He’d like to be cold and unfeeling, but more often than not his heart has a habit of getting in the way. He genuinely fell in love with Rafaella, it genuinely hurt when she left him, etc. He has a temper, but he’s worked very hard on keeping it under control. 

OBSESSION(S): power and money, being understood. 

COMPULSION(S): He doesn’t feel compelled to do anything--he refuses to be compelled to do anything. He is always in control. 

PHOBIA(S): Failure, Irrelevance. 

ADDICTION(S): Ronan isn’t addicted to anything. 

DRUG USE: Nothing recreationally.

ALCOHOL USE: He drinks socially, but he likes to be fully in control, fully able to observe everyone and everything going on around him. 

PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: Absolutely, violence is the quickest way to come to solutions, or to prove that you’re more powerful than your opponent. Violence is necessary if you want to get anywhere in Verona. 

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: Clear, properly enunciated, verbose. 

ACCENT: Italian

QUIRKS: Twisting his wedding ring, tapping his fingers against a nearby surface, never quite smiling, rubbing his hand over the juncture between his neck and shoulder. 

HOBBIES: Reading, playing chess, playing the violin, occasionally strolling through art galleries. He doesn’t have a lot of leisure time, and prefers to be actively doing something useful. 

NERVOUS TICKS: Twisting his wedding ring primarily, other than that he doesn’t like to show weakness, and has trained himself out of having a lot of ticks. 

DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: Ronan was cast aside the minute he was born, told repeatedly that he was monstrous simply because of a twist of fate that he had no control over. He wants to prove just how monstrous he truly is, and that he is capable of so much more than anyone ever thought he would be--he wants to see the faces of everyone in Verona when the monster they created comes to his throne to lead them. He wants control of the Montagues, the Capulets, and he wants control of Verona. 

FEARS: failure, being alone, becoming anything like either of his parents. 

POSITIVE TRAITS: intelligent, charismatic, perceptive. 

NEGATIVE TRAITS: manipulative, cruel, self-centered

SENSE OF HUMOR: dry, sarcastic, often at the expense of whoever he’s talking to. 

DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: Not really, he thinks it betrays a lack of intelligence. But if he feels like the person he’s talking to will respond better to it, he’ll let something slip. 

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: Working, visiting Renzo at The Dark Lady, scheming. 

ANIMAL: He compares himself to a wolf, or to a snake--vicious, hungry, frightening creatures. 

BEVERAGE: Vodka Martini 

BOOK: Frankenstein, Il Principe, We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Memoirs of Hadrian, The Art of War, Wuthering Heights

COLOR: Navy Blue

DESIGNER: Yves St. Laurent, Burberry, Gucci

FOOD: Food isn’t really something he enjoys--its an annoyance he has to put up with in order to survive. 

FLOWER: Hellebore

GEM: Sapphire 

HOLIDAY: Ronan thinks holidays are trivial, and generally ignores them. 

MOVIE: Todd Browning’s 1931 adaptation of Dracula, Andrea Arnold’s 2011 adaptation of Wuthering Heights, Lawrence of Arabia 

QUOTE/SAYING:

“beware, for I am fearless and therefore powerful. I will watch with the wiliness of a snake, that I may sting with its venom. Man, you shall repent of the injuries you inflict.” 

-MARY SHELLEY, FRANKENSTEIN 

SCENT: Amouage--Jubilation XXV Man 

SPORT: None. 

TELEVISION SHOW: Hannibal, Game of Thrones, The Tudors

WEATHER: Dark and stormy. 

VACATION DESTINATION: His family owns property in Sweden that he has a few vaguely fond memories of. He also owns a place in Rome that he likes to go to when he needs space. 

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: To basically fashion himself a kind of king in Verona. He may be named after Richard III, who tried to do the same thing, but Ronan vows that he will be successful where is namesake failed. 

MOST AT EASE WHEN: He’s by himself and doesn’t have to wear any kind of mask--the only person he can fully trust is himself, therefore in private he puts forward the least amount of effort to disguise himself. 

LEAST AT EASE WHEN: His family is mentioned--particularly anything having to do with their deaths. He used to be at ease whenever Lucien was around, but in the present he feels like he has to be on his guard, whenever his husband decides to show his face. 

WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: Someone manages to outplay him, to reveal his machinations and get him killed. 

BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: Being elected to the Verona city council, taking his family fortune for himself, becoming bigger than the abuse his parents hurled at him. 

BIGGEST REGRET: Letting Rafaella walk away from him, marrying Lucien in an effort to fill the hole that she left. 

TOP PRIORITIES: Ascending in the ranks, eliminating anyone who he sees as a potential threat, gathering allies to himself. 

[saltnhalo]

Happy birthday @cryptomoon <3 <3

Somewhere deep in the Amazonian rainforest, far beneath the tree canopy and a few miles north of the raging river, Dean Winchester stands at the entrance of a long-forgotten temple.

It towers above him, all crumbling bricks and snaking vines, exactly what he’s been looking for after weeks of searching and months of planning and years upon years of studying the ancient texts that have directed him to this very spot. Several of the remaining inscriptions and tablets from other sites mention this god, and the existence of a temple dedicated to him, but while other scholars had dismissed the temple as being lost to the cruel winds of time, Dean had not given up so easily.

And here he stands.

“About fuckin’ time,” he says to himself, a grin curling his lips. He’s been after this find, and now that he’s here, he’s itching to get in and explore. There’s no telling what he’s about to unearth—so, never one to waste time, he checks his gear one last time, sends a quick thought up to the supposed god of the temple he’s about to enter, and steps inside.

Inside the temple, where the sun has not touched for many hundreds of years, the air is cool and dry. Dean reaches for the lamp that he keeps clipped to the outside of his backpack and turns it on, the low light illuminating inscriptions and decorations on the stone walls. He’s careful where he steps, mindful of the pottery shards that litter the ground in some places. He’ll need to come back and inspect those later, but for now, he wants to get the lay of the land. The temple hadn’t looked that large, from the outside, but he knows that there are areas he couldn’t see without entering the structure, and he’s curious to find out exactly what they hold.

Every step takes him further into the temple, through twisting corridors and past rooms of worship and offering. Those aren’t what Dean is looking for, though, not right now. The texts he’s read tell of the temple having a ‘heart,’ a place right in the core of the temple that served as the connection to the god. It is where, the texts say, the god’s presence could be felt most strongly, and where the most elite and the most religious came to pay tribute.

Dean follows his nose through the temple, using his compass and his many years of experience to try and locate the centre. The corridor he’s following turns a corner, and when Dean steps around it, he can see light at the end; part of the roof structure that has caved in. It’s in the right spot to be what he’s looking for, and he crosses the rest of the distance to the corridor’s end in wide, hurried strides, until he steps out into a grand, sunlit room.

The collapse looks to have come from a built-in skylight that has deteriorated over time, but it’s the kind of feature that would have allowed the god’s followers to feel closer to him—he had been, after all, the god of life, and of the sun. That much Dean has been able to parse out, though a name for the deity has still escaped his research.

Even without the crumbled skylight, though, there’s no doubt that this is the room he’s been looking for.

Paint adorns the walls, bright colours and spots of gold decorating every available space. Along the walls are chests and shelves full of precious metals, gems, incense, any offerings that would have pleased the god, and stand as evidence that this temple has not been touched since the fall of its people, hundreds of years ago. In the centre of the room are four trees that have long since grown out of hand, roots cracking the floor around their squares of dirt and branches stretching up, untamed, towards the high ceiling.

What catches Dean’s eye, though, is the altar in the centre of the room and the four trees. It’s a piece of solid stone, slightly taller than Dean himself, and as he steps closer, he can make out the intricate carvings that have been etched onto its surface.

There is a man, tall and handsomely stylized, with the sun hanging over his head like the halo of an angel. It shines down on him, and on the trees and the land that surrounds his image. The giver of life.

Beneath the inscription, there is a single handprint—originally etched into the rock, but whose edges have been worn smooth by a thousand years, and the touch of hundreds, if not thousands, of hands to this very spot.

Dean is witnessing history, in the evidence of worn stone and religious dedication. It’s humbling, to be standing here where so many people have prayed, or given tribute, or dedicated themselves to the god. To be such a small piece of history, and to be bearing witness to all that has come before him… It’s more than a little mind-blowing.

He steps up close to the altar, and kneels down on the smooth stone before it. He’s in this god’s temple, has read and learned so much about him, that it feels wrong not to pay him his respects before Dean begins documenting what he’s found. He may not believe in a heaven or that there’s anyone up there watching over him, but the people who built this had believed, and that’s enough for him, right now. He’s respecting their memory, and everything that they built and believed.

Which is why he reaches out and touches his hand to the handprint in the stone.

And then there’s a loud crack, like the earth itself shifting, groaning, reawakening.

That can’t be good.

Dean pulls his hand back from the stone and looks up at the sunlight still streaming through the hole in the roof. The sun is still shining, the temple still stands, and despite the sound, it doesn’t seem that anything has changed. Dean certainly hasn’t been zapped out of existence for daring to touch an ancient ritual item, which is always a relief.

Disappointed by the lack of consequences, Dean stands, ready to keep exploring the chamber to see if there’s anything else that could be the ‘heart’ that the texts had referred to.

When he turns away from the altar, there is a man standing in front of him.

He’s tall and tanned, wearing only what looks to be some sort of loincloth. Gold adorns his wrists and throat and ears, standing out starkly against the dark, unruly curls of his hair. Wide, blue eyes bore into Dean’s as though they can see right into his very soul, and his feet are bare, grounded against the earth and stone.

He was certainly not there when Dean had knelt down, and it’s only a very good amount of self-control that keeps Dean from jumping a foot in the air at the sudden appearance of this strange man. “Who the fuck are you?” he demands.

The man tilts his head to the side, slow and careful, then blinks. “I have not been summoned to this mortal plane for a very long time,” he says—quietly, but in a voice that still resonates with power and practically demands that Dean listen. “My followers have long since disappeared, and yet… here you are.”

It takes a moment for Dean to process this, but when it clicks into place in his mind, he sucks in a sharp breath. This is…

“You’re the god,” he whispers, his mouth falling open in shock. “You—this is your temple.”

The man inclines his head, slowly and regally.

Jesus Christ—or… not, as it turns out. The people who worshipped this god would never have heard of Christianity. “I’m sorry,” Dean blurts out, raising his hands—to placate the god, to defend himself from any divine wrath he may have incurred, he’s really not sure. Either way, the god eyes him with something akin to mild amusement. “I didn’t realize you—you’d still be here. Or that you ever truly existed to be honest, I—I don’t really believe in higher powers or any of that crap.”

Is that offensive to say to a god’s face? If he’s going down, he’s going out with a bang, that’s for sure.

The corners of the god’s eyes crinkle, but the rest of his face remains calm and impassive. “There will always be non-believers,” he says. “I take no offence. You have given my temple new life, and that is all that matters to me.”

Dean lets out a slow breath. Maybe he’s not about to be smote into a thousand tiny pieces. The god’s positive answer gives him the courage to ask the question that has been burning in his mind ever since he started his research—it might be pushing his luck, but Dean didn’t as far as he is today without pushing his luck more than a little.

“What is your name?”

The man exhales, and his eyes close, as though it takes him a great effort to remember. It has been a long time since he was actively worshipped, after all.

“My name… I have had many names. Many titles. But the one I was given from the very beginning…” He exhales, then opens his eyes, and for the first time, there’s the hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“My name is Castiel.”

[axther]

(1/2) Ghost Anon: May I get a bnha matchup? I’m Vicente, a 4’11” pan trans-guy, who’s 18 years old and in college for art! I adore cats, halloween, video games, & death metal! My MBTI is INFP-T! I have trouble befriending others irl because I’m MAD standoffish & have an abrasive personality but for those I‘m close to I do whatever I can to cheer em up when they’re down! I have history with martial arts (abt 5/6 years) I LOVE sparring and get a thrill from fakin people out and landin a solid hit!

fuckkkk I’m sorry this is late… I am one (1) dumbass. Also under the cut for length bc I kept on deleting it and starting over and before I knew it the first matchup was four pages long (in the end it was 9 pages long)

#1 is…Tamaki! 

Okay so!!! 

We all know that Tamaki freaks out easily 

And let’s say there’s a meetup for young, promising students

Mirio and Neijre are thriving 

But Tamaki is stuck in a corner trying to not get noticed

 He’s panicking 

And then he sees you from across the room 

You look pissed as all hell 

Crossing your arms and watching three other students brag about their exploits 

He notices that you look like your gradually getting more and more annoyed 

Eventually, you huff and walk away, and Tamaki realises that you’ve got something perched on your shoulder

 He takes a bit of a look and sees that it’s a skeletal cat, walking back and forth and clearly agitated. 

You sit on a chair at one of the semi-fancy, plastic tablecloth tables, about two feet away from Tamaki 

He’s clearly ‘??’ and nervous as hell that he pissed you off

until you start talking 

‘What’re you doin’?’ 

Tamaki’s confused as all get out 

And it’s clear that he’s promptly terrified 

Until you glance at him out of the corner of your eyes 

And the cat is staring at him with hollow eye sockets, tilting its head 

And you say ‘You look lonely.’ 

Tamaki flushes bright red 

You noticed him??? 

Did he do something obvious? 

Was he pissing you off?

Did lonely people piss you off?

Did he make you feel bad???

You shrug at his silence, and though he can’t see it, you’re kinda hurt 

It’s not like you want to actually scare anybody (besides villains). 

So imagine your surprise when he manages to pipe up 

‘Wh-wh-what’s your…quirk…?’ 

It’s less than a whisper, but you catch it, and you look over with a raised eyebrow 

‘Death.’ You look away. ‘Psychopomp. Angel of Death. Grim Reaper. Whatever you wan’ to call it.’ 

Tamaki baulks 

He didn’t even know that quirks that severe existed

You’re kinda staring in the opposite direction and he can tell that his silence is definitely not helping 

But he’s almost in awe 

He’s heard of people with quirks like Wendigo, Reanimation, and Bodily Manipulation that had to be shelved away lest something happen and they use their quirks for evil

So he’s a bit confused as to why you’re allowed out and about 

But he’s most curious 

In fact, he’s very very curious

So he blinks up at you and takes a big gulp and closes his eyes tight 

‘Th…that’s cool…’ 

He did it!! 

Internally he’s celebrating like crazy because he managed to get it going!! 

He’s got this!! 

But then you just frown and look a bit angrier 

So then it all comes to a stop in Tamaki’s head 

And he eyes the cat, who’s nuzzling your neck 

And Tamaki decides to shoot his shot 

‘Who’s…the cat?’ 

You look back at him, clearly surprised 

You figured that your quirk scared him, with how he looked ready to die himself when he said it was cool, so you’re a bit confused. 

‘Custos. M’ familiar.’ 

Tamaki is definitely more curious now 

He wasn’t sure what to ask next 

But then Custos jumped from your shoulder 

You two are staring at Custos, kneading Tamaki’s lap

The shoujo gods are watching over you, really

 But then you look away again with a blush and a mumble of ‘I guess she likes you.’ 

Tamaki’s playing with her funny paws 

And there’s a second where he messes with it wrong, and the paw turns sideways, and then claws just appear out of nowhere until he fixes it again 

He’s talking to Custos and having a grand old time 

When you get out of the chair and plop down next to Tamaki 

And Tamaki’s starting to freak out again 

Did it seem like he was ignoring you? 

Was he being rude? 

He didn’t know what you were doing when you plucked Custos out of Tamaki’s hands until you murmured ’watch this!’ 

Then you  s t r e t c h  Custos 

She’s mewing happily, clearly enjoying it 

But Tamaki can see Custos’ spine literally separating, like a weird accordion 

You stop, and laugh when Custos bounces left and right, trying to get you to do it again 

And you nudge Tamaki, and he’s in awe

’It’s like givin’ her a kitty deep massage.’ 

Tamaki nods mutely, a little blush on his face 

Through this, you two develop a full-blown conversation 

And it’s going great! 

Tamaki’s genuinely surprised 

But then he hears muffled squealing 

And at first, he’s ’???’ 

But then he looks over to his right to see Neijre smothering her own cheer

And Mirio’s got a big ol’ grin and he’s giving a thumbs up 

Tamaki’s ready to EXPLODE 

But then you call his name 

And he jumps again but looks at you this time 

And you follow his original line of sight 

And almost immediately, you reserve yourself again 

Tamaki realises that the pissed-off demeanour was a reflex

You look at him, clearly taken off guard, and go ’Huh?’ 

Tamaki realises that he said it out loud, and smacks a hand to his mouth 

You both look shocked 

Tamaki’s sure that he’s messed up the entire thing and that you’re never going to want to talk to him again 

But then you give a bit of a sad smile before nodding 

’Yeah, I guess.’ 

Tamaki’s heart breaks at the tone of your voice 

He feels a weight in his stomach 

Custos begins rubbing herself across your face and purring, trying to comfort you 

And before Tamaki’s anxiety can catch up, he’s got his phone out and has yours so you two can exchange numbers 

He doesn’t have time to think over it or regret it before Fat Gum shows up for him so he and a couple of other students can train together 

And a different hero, with spikes and hair that hung in their face, shows up for you with several other goth-themed students in tow 

It’s later that night that he thinks back to it all, and he’s covering his face, bright red, and rolling left and right. 

Then, like a death bell, his phone goes off 

He stops rolling and just stares at the contact ’Vincente + Custos’ 

And he’s shaking and hyping himself up and nearly drops his phone three times and he’s near tears 

But he answers with a shaky ’H-Hello?’ 

And he hears Custos mewing a bit 

And then you 

’Hey. Tamaki, right? From the Elites Meetup?’ 

Tamaki takes a deep as fuck breath before speaking again 

’Yes?’ 

Yeah, it sounds like a question, but he’s nervous!! 

And he hears a sigh of relief 

’Cool! This is, uh, V. Vincente.’ 

There’s another moment of silence until you speak up again 

’But I can be whoever you want?’ 

This, too, is a question, but Tamaki doesn’t worry about that 

He hears someone’s vaguely cheering you on (it sounded like a sixteen-year-old, maybe?) 

But his face erupts in red 

’I-Well, that’s…I…’ 

Tamaki can’t really respond 

He’s too busy thinking ’?????!??!??! He’s into me?!??!??!’ 

You kinda sigh, and then say ’Sorry, that was kinda…’ 

And Tamaki starts stammering more over the phone 

It was a bit hard to decipher, but it was something along the line of ’it’s okay’ and ’are you free’ 

(yes, you made sure you were definitely free.) 

#2 is…Bakugou! 

We know this mf does not do anything half-assed 

So when you two are paired together for sparring 

He’s expecting you to have a quirk like Tokoyami’s, where light and darkness are important factors

So he goes blazing in, expecting the light from his explosions to be too much

But you’re just standing there, the fuckin’ cat on your shoulder and looking unbothered! 

It’s pissing him off! 

But then he feels something grab onto his foot 

And he looks down

And he doesn’t know how to describe it 

But it looks like a mix of a big, ripped out fetus and a malnourished child with huge, empty eyesockets and wrinkly, paper white skin and arms that didn’t fit its body 

(look up the messengers from Bloodborne, it’ll make more sense) 

And it’s quietly groaning while holding onto his ankle

And Bakugou tries ripping it off of him

But then another appears

And more and more until there’s a whole crowd around him 

’What the fuck is this?’ He can’t get them off, because, with every one that he shoots off, three takes its place 

And then, at once, they all start dragging him down 

’Hey! You goth fuck! What the fuck are you doing?!’ 

Yet the entire time, you’re unbothered 

And he’s trying to wade out of the tide that pulls him in

And it’s consuming him whole

The ground isn’t the limit anymore, he realises, and he starts panicking 

He’s blasting left and right 

But then he lets out one final yell, and he’s gone 

No one knows where

People have stopped to look, and your teacher gives you a stern look.

‘Bring him back, V.’ 

You only glance his way for a moment before, a couple of yards behind you, Bakugou is spat out 

He’s panting and sweating and looks like he saw hell itself 

You turn your head slightly to look at him, not even bother to uncross your arms. 

And when he looks at you he can only keep eye contact for a moment before lowering his head 

Very very quickly word goes around school

That the dark horse V took down the rowdy rude Bakugou that won the Sports Festival

Bakugou has rarely felt so humiliated 

So he approaches you later that day demanding a rematch

He’s gotten a better grasp of what your quirk is, so he’s certain he can take you on 

But all you do is shrug. 

This! Pisses! Bakugou! Off!!

‘Then no quirks, fucker. You and me and nothing else.’ 

Again, you shrug, and the cat on your shoulder hops of and perches on a nearby open window

Again, Bakugou is sure that he can take you on

You don’t look buff, nor scrawny. You look…moderate? 

Certainly like you wouldn’t blow away in the wind, but that you were more of a cuddler than a fighter 

So when he goes full offensive, he sees you start to lift your right leg and he’s all over it 

He’s thinking ‘dumbass!’ and goes to grab your leg when you switch in mid-air and clock him over the neck with your knee 

You let him get back up

But the rest of the fight he’s getting no mercy 

And he’s completely taken off guard

By the end of it 

He’s beaten and bruised 

Though you’re only a bit better off yourself

He’s pretty sure that some students watched in the middle of it but left near the end 

But either way, he’s been lowkey humbled

He’d never admit it, of course

But he now knows that he can’t underestimate you anymore 

When he takes a second too long to get up, you offer a hand 

And he nearly knocks it away when he looks up at you

And into your eyes

And he realises that it’s you putting yourself out there

You never really talked to anybody, at all

So he takes it 

‘It’s not me being nice’, he tells himself. 

It’s him just taking what is offered 

And he stands up and he’s taller than you 

And when he looks down he notices that hey

You’re kinda cute

So when the silence consumes you both he takes a hand to the back of his head and shoves a hand into his pockets 

‘I, uh…you’re better than I fuckin’ thought. You wanna…eat out sometime?’ 

Your face softens, ever so slightly, and if he squints hard enough he sees you smiling 

(though he would never admit it, he was whipped from there on out.)

#3 is…Midoriya!

When you first meet him he’s absolutely enamoured with your quirk 

It started with Custos 

And then when you started explaining the basics of your quirk 

He’s completely fanboying 

‘Oh my gosh, I didn’t know that quirks could have capabilities like that! To think that you can call on the armies of the dead…that’s incredible! Could I ask more?’ 

He’s a bit like Tamaki, but on a chiller level 

He ends up filling roughly half a notebook on you over the course of the train ride that you two met on 

And he realises that he probably hasn’t even scratched the surface of it 

So he demands (politely) that you guys exchange numbers 

You mention offhand that you don’t have too many friends because of how stand-off-ish you act 

And midoriya rises to the occasion! 

‘I’ll be your friend! Don’t worry! Actually, I have a voucher for some good katsudon at a stand down the road from my house, and it’s the next stop, would you want to come? Not that you have to! It’s just that I really wanna solidify our new friendship, and-’

‘Sure. I’ve got nothin’ better to do.’ 

Midoriya is ready to fly out of his seat with how happy he is!! 

He’s still not terribly used to having a ton of friends, so the fact that he’s expanding his circle, even more, makes him super happy!

You two go to the katsudon stand and Midoriya’s semi-swarmed by a group of old ladies that his mom takes yoga classes with 

And they’re pinching your cheeks with a feel of ‘Oh!! Izuku-Kun is this your friend! Is he your boyfriend? Oh, you two look very cute together! Don’t forget to eat well, Izuku’s friend! Please keep him safe and well!’ 

And to be honest, Midoriya’s not expecting you to take it all too well

He’s ready to shoo them away 

When you just give a really soft, sparkly, anime shoujo smile and take their hand 

‘I will, ma’am. You ca’ count on me.’ 

And Midoriya kinda stares in awe for a moment before one of the shrewder ladies nudges him in the side with a 😏

He’s like ‘!!! I-I-I-I-I-I just met him today! It’s not like that!’ 

And he’s flailing his arms and bright red and the lady is like ‘Uh-huh, sure, that’s what I said about my fourth husband’ 

Either way, the old ladies leave with a call for Midoriya to ask his mother to bring her soba recipe to yoga next Thursday

And he accepts while trying to drag you away from them because the last thing he needs is for the entire neighbourhood to try and be his wingman

So he’s talking with you about your quirk while eating and you two eventually branch of about anything and everything 

And by the time it’s dark Midoriya feels like he’s known you his entire life 

You decide to head out before it gets any darker and he waves as you leave 

He’s got a blush on his face and a lopsided grin 

Because you know what!!

You’re fuckin cute!! And smart, and funny, but you knew when to hold your tongue, and you’ve got a really cool cat, and he thinks that you’re really sweet, and…

And almost immediately, once you’re out of earshot, the chef leans over 

“Your boyfriend, huh?’ 

‘Aughhhh!’ 

@v0mpy