#this feels like a personal attack like i feel targeted

[unknown-cold]

In this interview Amanda said something that caught my attention. Do you think that in ep 8 Caitlyn will talk about what Jinx did to her when she kidnapped her? Bc Amanda said that in ep8 there's a Caitlyn line that will make us say "Oh so that's why"

Amanda means this line that Cait is going to say will let us know why she was so mad at Jinx in ep 3 and how Caitlyn went completely blind when she saw Jinx in her target and bc of her anger and also her fear and terror of Jinx, Cait has completely lost control of herself in this moment. (there is someone who made a post on this topic @loycos and talked about what happened to Cait in ep3 and how Cait didn't see Vi or Isha in front of her bc of her anger and her deeply terrified of Jinx) I mean look at her eyes and the expression on her face, yes she looks angry but she is also terrified.

This is a natural reaction. I mean for example, imagine that you see something that scares you so much. There are two reactions, either flight or fight, and these reactions always come without a person thinking. At this moment the person is only thinking about getting rid of the thing that scares him, and he does not focus on what is around him bc these strong feelings control him.

Anyway, what makes me sure that this scene might happen in ep 8 (Caitlyn talking about what happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her) is Reed Shannon (Ekko VA) comment when he saw the drawing and said "I thought this was a leak" Reed might be joking as usually, but why this particular drawing and why he chose this word "leak".

But honestly if this scene actually happened and we knew what happened to Caitlyn, it would make us understand more why she was so angry and scared of Jinx when she saw her in front of her and it would also explain why she literally went blind and didn't see anything around her at that moment, neither the child nor Vi, all Cait saw was Jinx, she just wants to bring down Jinx. I mean look at these pictures she is so terrified of her

Again Caitlyn's insistence on killing Jinx in the scene in ep 3 was not only motivated by revenge on Jinx, but also out of fear and terror of her.

And not like those idiots who say that Caitlyn wanted to kill the child on purpose to get to Jinx or even say that she wanted to kill Vi too, or bc she's a cop and the cops kill children and blah blah... That's really ridiculous and annoying!! Bc if we focus a little bit on the period that Caitlyn went through we will see that Cait didn't have time to process all these things that happened to her, from the torture that happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her, then the killing of her mother, then the attack on the memorial ceremony. (I know that Jinx is not the reason, but from Caitlyn's perspective she thinks that Jinx and the Silco followers are the reason)

And in the end I hope that no one comes who doesn't like the post bc I am defending Caitlyn's character. If you don't like this character I don't care, there is no need for you to write a stupid comments. Please don't tire your little fingers if you don't like my post block me this is better for you and me. I will not waste my time responding to you, I will delete your comment and block you immediately.

I am a student at the Faculty of Psychology, and when I talk about trauma and the interpretation of human behavior and reactions, I know well what I am talking about. Bc most of the characters' reactions in this show are very realistic and need to explanation, writers do not want to explain everything in the show, they want viewers to occupy their mind and explain the events themselves (And I still repeat the point that the show focuses on the development and complexity of the characters more than anything else, and does not focus on solving political issues, the show is not about politics, okay)

And btw some people ask me about my opinion of Jinx's character, I have no problem with her character at all, I like her and I understand her condition, when I criticize her actions, it doesn't mean I hate her.

One day I may do a post about her character development and her condition, but I see that there are many posts about her and her actions, and I feel like I won't say anything new about her. Unlike the rest of the characters like Vi and Caitlyn, there are not many people talking about them. And maybe I will make a Viktor post bc I really like the development of his character. When the show ends, maybe I will.

[landhoe-norris]

The thing with Lando, that I don’t understand, is how everything he says or does is constantly blown out of proportion and twisted to make it seem worse than it is. He’s not the only driver who acts in the heat of the moment, yet he’s one of the few who gets crucified for it every single time.

Remember back in Monaco in ‘21 or ‘22 (I really can’t remember), when he lapped Ricciardo, his own teammate, and gave him a small wave—a gesture that clearly meant “thank you for letting me by without any trouble.” Instead of seeing it for what it was, people completely misinterpreted it. Lando was accused of mocking Ricciardo, called a snake and a bad teammate, and even received death threats. Over a wave. A moment of acknowledgment somehow turned into a crime.

What’s frustrating is how this treatment isn’t consistent across the board. Compare this to Liam Lawson flipping Checo off in a race recently—a far more direct and provocative gesture. Fans laughed it off, called him a “legend,” and moved on. But when Lando does something as harmless as a wave, it’s analyzed to death, criticized, and turned into an excuse to attack his character.

It feels like no matter what Lando does, people are ready to twist it into something negative. If he’s honest in interviews, he’s labeled “arrogant.” If he jokes around, he’s “disrespectful.” And if he’s frustrated after a bad day, he’s “entitled.” It’s as if he’s never allowed to just be himself without someone jumping to the worst possible conclusion about his intentions.

Lando isn’t perfect—no driver is. But the way he’s singled out for things that others are praised for is exhausting to watch. It’s like people are waiting for him to slip up, ready to drag him down at any moment. He doesn’t deserve that. None of them do.

Maybe it’s because he’s always been open and honest, which makes him an easy target for people who want to twist his words or actions. Or maybe it’s because he’s popular, and people are quicker to tear down someone they see as successful. Whatever the reason, it’s unfair and unwarranted. Lando’s been a consistently strong driver and a decent person who doesn’t deserve the constant backlash he gets.

I don’t know what has to change for this to stop - actually I know exactly what has to change for this to stop. People need to change. Media needs to change, and social media needs to change.

People need to stop holding him to a higher standard than their favourite drivers while simultaneously wishing for him to fail. It’s hypocritical to demand perfection from him while cheering on others for behavior that is often far more controversial. The medid need to stop running with narratives that Lando has never given them. Time and again, stories have been spun to paint him as arrogant or disrespectful, feeding into the toxicity that surrounds him. And social media needs to stop amplifying this negativity. Platforms that could foster meaningful conversations instead magnify toxic behavior, allowing hate and unfair criticism to spread unchecked. Clips are taken out of context, moments are exaggerated, and echo chambers of hate are created. Lando, like every driver, is human—he’s allowed to have moments of frustration, humor, or honesty without being vilified for them.

Lando has shown time and again that he’s a talented driver and a genuine person. He's shown time and time again why he's on the grid, and that he is one of the fastest there is, and that he genuinely deserves to take up space in F1. He's growing as a driver from year to year and he’s only going to get better. It’s time people recognized his growth, talent, and hard work instead of tearing him down at every opportunity.

Lando is McLaren, and he is F1, just as much as Leclerc is Ferrari and Verstappen is Red Bull.

[drdemonprince]

Your advice to the letter-writer whose friend is a former abuser is interesting to me! I largely agree with the specifics, but I'd have added advice to be careful with how the former abuser treats the letter-writer. I might also advise them to be careful whenever the former abuser describes conflicts, as they might be likelier than average to use a woe-is-me framework. I would recommend caution with anything the abuser suggests they do that might cause them discomfort or humiliation, even if it sounds righteous in theory. I realize this is not very fair of me. The former abuser shouldn't have to live with increased carefulness and suspicion from their friends. Maybe it's not a real friendship if you're always wary about your friend potentially turning on you. But purely pragmatically... a lot of former abusers do abuse again, even if they had changed, sincerely, for a while. And "my friend who knows my history and stands with me, even losing some other friends in the process" is a prime target for Abuse II: Abuse Comes Back But In A New Enlightened Way. Deciding to have solidarity with a former abuser is a very moral thing to do, but it's also a trait some abusers are great at warping for their own benefit. Again, I know I'm being unfair, but I keep seeing this happen. Sometimes the friend gets sucked into a narrative where they eventually blame the former victim and become increasingly protective. Other time they say very clear-eyed things but ultimately still end up physically or sexually or emotionally mistreated.

I guess my question is, you say you believe the abuser fundamentally changed, so what does that look like to you? Are you able to fully relax around people who've abused in the past? Abuse is the result of circumstances, but it's also a sort of skill; how do you trust people to never use that skill again?

Great things to be aware of, honestly, thanks anon for the nuanced and careful view.

I like your framing of abuse as a skillset rather than a type of person -- and it's a skill that a whole variety of people wield, including sometimes those who are identified by most not as abusers, but as crusaders for justice or even supposedly for victims' rights. Having been abused and having also learned to be a canny social manipulator, I do see abuse as a skill that gets taught in dysfunctional groups and family systems, and which we can all potentially fall back on when we're backed into a corner.

Knowing how to recognize the skills of abuse being utilized (and maybe even more importantly, how you feel when a person leverages certain tactics against you) is really important for self-preservation in general. Being friends with someone who has a known abuse history that they are explicit & contrite about, in some ways, puts you in a safer position than if you were interceding with a more covert abuser who uses such tactics under a banner of benevolence. But it's also true that many people who come to be known as abusers were initially known as charming, and right thinking, and moral -- and it's very possible for someone who has done abuse to present themselves as such but not mean it. We can't ever really know the full depths of someone else's heart and mind, nor do we have to -- we can look to their actions and the skills they use, particularly when they are frustrated or feeling attacked.

[fictionfixations]

2.7 special program compiled

i was FINALLY on time for the special program YIPPEE but anyways let me compile a bunch of stuff

Redemption Codes: UAJJDY9E8JJT MTJ2CG9XRK2F DSJKDYQF82J3

Event Warp

Phase 1: Sunday & Jing Yuan (4 stars: Qingque, Arlan, and Tingyun Poised to Bloom, The Birth of the Self, and Swordplay)

Phase 2: Fugue & Firefly (4 stars: Gallagher, Yukong, and Misha Indelible Promise, Resolution Shines As Pearls of Sweat, and Concert for Two)

"Descend to the mortal realm and walk their lands. See what this world is truly like." -Jade (according to Sunday)

He says it taught him a lot and changed his view on Penacony.

He also claims he is now an escaped fugitive.

Apparently he was able to return to Penacony from the aid of a pepeshi named 'One Week'? (I might've misheard.)

Sunday explains that he still has some connections willing to look out for him (due to being in Penacony for so long).

Robe and hood are meant to conceal his identity.

March thought he had an outfit change cause his previous outfit turned into a relic set. (LMAO)

The Family likely did not make a big show of Sunday no longer being the head and all that jazz (no wanted posters unfortunately).

There are rumors circulating around Penacony that Sunday got hit by a car and so he's currently resting, and that the culprit ran away. March nervously laughs and claims there was no traffic accident and that it was just the power of friendship. (..THE TRAIN??)

He says he discarded the blessings from Harmony and Order, and that he now wants to pursue his dreams as a mere mortal.

He returned to Penacony to perform a final performance before he "embarks on a new venture of the eighth dawn."

For more information on the journey Sunday took to pursue his dreams, and how he "fell into thorny paths many times but climbed back up many times" will be shown in the Myriad Celestia trailer.

Sunday is an imaginary character following the path of Harmony.

(The Glorious Mysteries) Using his technique leaves a halo that buffs his teammates.

(Benison of Paper and Rites) His skill causes one ally and their summon to immediately take action and increases their dealt damage. (If that ally has a summon, that damage boost is higher, however those of the Harmony path will not take immediate action.)

(Ode to Caress and Cicatrix) His ultimate will regenerate energy for one character. That character and their summon will become "the beatified" (? dont recognize this word) for a number of his turns.

Allies who have become the beatified will gain a halo and have their crit damage increased.

Himeko and Welt met Tingyun when they were visiting Ruan Mei, and we took on the task to take her home.

However, she wanted to stop somewhere before reaching the Xianzhou to calm her thoughts, and the express needed to pick up supplies on Penacony so she came with us.

The name Fugue combines both her regret of not having returned for so long, and her confusion regarding her identity.

Pom-Pom comments that she sometimes spaces out, like she's thinking about something really hard.

Sunday says that "after a close brush with death, it's easy to feel that you've become a completely different person."

Ruan Mei healed Tingyun's body, though spiritual wounds may have not.

It seems Ruan Mei made some optimizations to her body, giving her nine tails.

About details of how Tingyun came back, there will be a Myriad Celestia trailer.

Fugue is a fire character following the path of Nihility.

(Fortune Follows Where Virtue Spreads) While she is on the field, allies attacks against weakness broken enemies will deal additional super break damage.

(Virtue Beckons Bliss) After using her skill, she can increase an allied character's break effect and give them the Foxian Prayer effect.

(Fiery Caress) At the same time, her basic attack will become enhanced.

When an allied character with Foxian Prayer attacks, there's a chance to reduce the target's defense.

(Solar Splendor Shines Upon All) Her ultimate can deal fire damage to all enemies, ignoring weakness types to reduce all enemies toughness.

(Percipient Shine) Using her technique inflicts Daze on all enemies in a set radius. Attacking dazed enemies will advance her action and reduce the enemy target's defense.

Next planet is Amphoreus, where even the Aeon Akivili did not manage to reach.

Himeko decides to seek information about it just to be safe, meanwhile the crew stops on Penacony for the last time.

Sunday is caught by the crew when he goes out with One Week(?).

Sunday's destiny will also change based on the trailblazer's decision.

We'll have a (optional) story recap before it starts, of a summary of the previous trailblaze missions.

It ominously turns back to March talking about Amphoreus, the Eternal Land, where Akivili was not able to reach.

"Gods may have cast down the flames of wisdom, but the fires of civilization are lit by humanity. Amphoreus, through strife, writes(?) of the intersection of three paths. It is a world where heroes across the land embark on the Flame Chase journey together. And where humankind rewrites destiny."

Here, video, because I don't know how to summarize this and it is PACKEd with information. Also Flame Chasers from Honkai Impact 3rd?

Images above ^^ are from the HSR twitter.

There's been a party(?) car all this time. I might have misheard the name.

Includes a reception area and a bar with a bartending robot.

The stairs lead to the Trailblazer's room.

Since there was no extra passenger car room for the Trailblazer, (immediately after they joined) the crew decided to give them the second floor storage room which is also the largest room on the express.

We get to furnish it yippee.

It will be split into a bedroom and a bathroom.

Trailblazers acquire furniture using express funds acquired from completing chores.

Trailblazers put together a duty team to finish tasks together. Different team comps will trigger different combo effects to help do chores more efficiently.

We can use action cards to plan out actions on the schedule and gain corresponding work contribution value and funds.

It can trigger different random events, or create wonderful memories.

Pom-Pom will be holding irregular dinner meetings during the duty period to evaluate the work contribution of those on duty. The results will affect how much funds the Trailblazer receives.

However we can also use various abilities during the meeting to get the best score possible.

Once renovation of the room is complete, you unlock a new outfit for Pom-Pom.

Pom-Pom's coat room is on the party car's first floor.

Sunday says that the red stuff might be a present left by Jiaoqiu.

The display area will show collectibles we've found on various worlds, and the corresponding weapon for the current path. If you switch your path, the weapon shown will also change.

The Trailblazer becomes March's assistant photographer. Mr. Reca is working with Paperfold University to hold an online photography exhibition.

We also have a chance to obtain special items, and might gain surprising results when using them. Such as Sparkle's... kaleidoscope..?

After completing Mr. Reca's tasks we can invite friends we've made along the journey to take a group photo.

ITS HER OUTFIT THAT WE NEVER GOT TO SEE AGAIN

New curios & weighted curios, equations and random occurances

The save file will also last until the next version update.

In 3.0 there will be a way to raise synchronicity level faster.

(i dont do pure fiction i dont understand any of this so im literally typing down everything they say) The different stage effects for each period will become different grit mechanics.

Once full, characters will enter surging grit, gaining powerful buffs to help defeat enemies faster.

Defeating enemies can also accumulate grit value.

During surging grit, the trailblazer can also accumulate a certain amount of resurging tide through defeating enemy units.

When surging grit ends and you return to concordant truths, the previously accumulated resurging tide will turn into grit value.

The enemy mechanics will also have changes. Non-boss enemies will continuously refresh after they are defeated. Also apart from damaging enemy bosses, you can also reduce the boss' health by defeating non-boss enemies.

Once you've defeated the boss, you can instantly enter the next wave.

New non-boss enemies allow us to trigger grit mechanics faster and enter surging grit faster.

QoL changes:

The highest quick clear floor on Forgotten Hall will be adjusted from floor 7 to floor 9. So long as you successfully clear floor 9, everything below it will also be automatically cleared.

You can also delete past resources on mobile clients like audio and graphics you've already experienced to save space.

Planar Fissure and Realm of the Strange will also be running.

3.0:

Remembrance as a new path.

Characters walking the path of Remembrance have summons called memosprites. Different memosprites have different specialties and can take on different duties in battle.

When fighting in the same team as those on the Path of Remembrance, memosprites will also become reliable on-field teammates fighting alongside you.

Also added trace materials for Remembrance. (there will not be any new trace materials for pre-existing paths anytime soon)

You will be able to set a relic's main stat and subsidiary stat using specific items when synthesizing new pieces.

Consuming a certain amount of Wishful Resin on top of consuming Self-Modeling Resin to simultaneously set a relic's main and subsidiary stat. You can also convert Self-Modeling Resin into Wishful Resin.

Save your self-modeling resin and plan how you want to use it.

There's also a chance to redistribute a relic's subsidiary stat enhancement for fully enhanced gold rarity relics only.

From version 2.7 to until version 3.2 ends, we can obtain one regular 5-star character of our choice.

[rottenherbs]

Just a Squib (pt.3) // F.W x squib! reader

(Pt.1 HERE) (pt.2 HERE)

Request: “Can I please request a Fred Weasley x muggle!fem!reader where she is Harry’s older sister or neighbor but she’s a squib.

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: The day of Bill and Fleurs wedding was supposed to be an escape from the pain and horrors of the outside world. How would y/n handle being thrusted into the chaos for the first time?

Authors note: I got so sad writing this. AWEEE. It had to happen sometime :(

// Requests open //

Much love, Saige

You slid the tulle dress over your head reaching behind yourself to zip the back. Two warm hands enveloped yours, pushing them aside softly and zipping it for you. You turn smiling up at the red head as his hands rest on your shoulders rubbing them lovingly.

”How do you feel?” You ask quietly, looking into his eyes. You tried to see beyond his expression. He takes your shoulders and brings you into his arms, sighing lightly as you both stand and sway.

“I’m just happy you are here.” He mumbles, trying to steady his breath so as to not alert you of his anxieties. Ever since the first attack on the ministry and Harry for that matter, Fred knew of an imminent danger. There was a large target placed on your back being related to Harry. It was only in due time the general public would find out about your existence and the fact that you lacked magical abilities. You’d easily be a way to get to Harry, or you'd be used against him. All of it stressed Fred to no avail. Everyday it got harder as the threat loomed closer.

You noticed his tendencies and actions changed slightly after he graduated. Now that he was home full time, he would act as your shadow, walking with you and always keeping an eye out. You found it endearing, loving that he was in such close proximity at all times. Today was no different.

He pulled back and took another look at you before smiling and leaning down. He kissed you softly, holding your face in his hands. Even if you had all the magic in the world, you'd never be able to replicate the feeling that he gave you.

“Would you help me with my tie, love?” He asked, fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. You nodded silently, grabbing the silk tie admiring his hands as you waited. Only a few hours from now the party would commence and you were sure that you and Fred would be too distracted to even think of the threat of the outside world.

-

The ceremony was short and beautiful. Fleur’s gown was an exact replication of her own personality and Bill, dashing in his suit, matched Freds in color. Once the two love birds kissed, small sparkles and stars fell on top of their heads as the guests all clapped in excitement. The party was enveloped with the air of joy and hope for a better future. Fred took your hand and dragged you to the dance floor where he dramatically flailed his body making you laugh. You looked around at the guests and smiled sweetly at Harry. This was exactly how you wanted your own wedding to look. Homely, magical, and surrounded by the people you loved.

As the night went on, the party settled and people took to the tables to eat and chat. You shared a table with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all stuffing your faces with the delicious meals Mrs.Weasley prepared. You couldn't be more proud of the friendship that they grew with one another, happy that Harry had such a strong set of friends to rely on. You held Fred’s hand under the table as his thumb rubbed over your knuckles listening intently to Harry as he tried his best to explain what their next steps would be to secure safety for the burrow and you. Like a flash of lightning, a booming clap was heard shushing the entire tent, a large figure appearing in the center.

“Kingsley!” Mr.Wesley stood eyes agape at the new guest.

“He works for the ministry.” Hermione whispered to you, her eyes confused and fearful.

“Arthur, the ministry has been taken over. Scrimgeour is dead.” Kingsley announced.

Guests stood up in panic creating hysteria. Loud snaps erupted as many wizards and witches appeared out of the tent as others ran to exit on foot. Fred took your hand quickly and dragged you to the far end of the tent. You looked back at the trio, Harry taking one last look at you before Ron and Hermione apparated as well. A sigh of relief took over you before fear came back immediately. Large gusts of wind whipped around you as hooded figures made their way to the crowd. You knew exactly who they were and what was about to happen. Fred was yanking you forward, his long legs hurling you forward. You have a hard time keeping up, tripping over your own feet. You made it out of the tent and into the house, the sounds of shrieking and spells casted sent shivers up your spine. Fred held your body as he whispered into your ear.

“I'll be back. I promise. You need to stay here and hide.” He pulled away, his eyes dark and stoic as he gripped his wand turning away. Watching him go was terrifying. The thought that you wouldn’t see him again making tears well up in your eyes. Though scared, you listened and crouched down behind the couch trying your best to use your sense of hearing to understand what was going on.

After a few minutes the sound of hysteria ended and a horrifying hush of silence followed. You weren’t sure which was worse. You clasped your hand over your mouth trying to not make your presence known as the door to the burrow creeped open. Not knowing who was entering, you shut your eyes and curled yourself into a ball, sobbing silently.

“But no one was hurt!” You heard Fred shout. You didn’t dare move.

“It doesn't matter they knew she was here. They know who she is!” Mrs.Weasley whispered angrily back. They were talking about you. The death eaters came and disrupted the wedding because of you.

“If you want her safe you need to do it.” You heard Professor Lupin chime in. His voice was hoarse and quiet. “It’s reversible Fred, you know that. But it's for her safety, Harry’s, and your family.” He continued. Terrified; you didn’t understand what they meant. What was going to happen to you? What was about to be done? Footsteps slowly got closer.

“Love?” You heard Fred shout. His voice was noticeably shakey. You peeked around the corner, still hunched in fear on the floor. He turned and saw your head, a soft smile across his face, tears flowing from his eyes.

“What happened?” You asked not moving from the floor. He walked over and crouched down grabbing you in a hug.

“Death eaters. They knew of the wedding.” He whispered. You gripped his suit tightly, his warm body comforted you, yet you still had this distrust over what you heard moments ago.

“Love.” He started again. You mumbled into his chest in acknowledgment. “I love you, so so so much.” You felt his chest tense, his hands moving behind you. “I love you more than the stars in the sky.” He continued. You began to sob into his chest, body twitching in his arms. Fred took a deep breath in and pointed his want at your head behind you.

”obliviate.” He whispered. You soon felt complete peace rush over your body like you fell into a dream for a moment.

You blinked and became tense. You were holding a man, people were crying around you, all had the same fiery hair. His arms held you down tightly. You felt trapped and in danger. You pushed back trying to see who it was.

”Where am i? Who are you?” You didn’t recognize him. How did you get here? You forcefully pushed yourself off of the man frantically scooting back. Everyone in the room stood watching you. They all held strange small sticks and looked at you with tears in your eyes.

“Oh I just can't watch.” An older woman whispered, turning and leaving. You heard her crying as one of the other people followed her.

”its okay.” The man said, holding out his hand to you. You were confused and terrified. You pushed yourself back against the wall trying to memorize the faces you saw in front of you. A tall man with a large facial scar lifted his hands and pointed his stick at you.

“Stupefy.” He uttered quietly. A strong jet of red light emitting from the device and hitting you in the chest left you unconscious. You knocked back into the wall and fell into a deep sleep.

[l0serg1rls]

today i wanna talk about the big brawl.. season 6, episode 10 and the sekai taikai.. basically how eye would change some things.

this is gonna be an extremely long post .. i like to yap. clearly. so yeah.

initially, when i first watched i loved it.. but rewatching that specific scene. it’s giving lacklustre? i mean the choreography was good that’s for sure but i don’t know.. i feel like it could’ve been done so much better .. also feel like it didn’t really have to end in kwons death either.

the reason why it fell short for me and felt a bit anticlimactic was because it was just random? russian dojo came back and punched gunther in the face, everyone else started fighting.. like okay💀

the thing is there was no reason too really. (have the massive brawl breakout THAT way) a brawl is fine, but the way it was carried out isn’t. also the actual tournament way too short.

i have an idea; so gonna share it here for you all! this might be dumb but i don’t like a lot with this season 6 part 2 after initial thought. anyways here we go 😖:

start off by saying sekai taikai was too short. like a world tournament only being around 30-40 minutes. i would’ve had the episodes longer with a runtime of an hour or over an hour.

i think CK could’ve benefited from longer episodes and more episodes anyway and better writers. but i digress

each international dojo is introduced through short videos or flashbacks as the teams all join together in the arena or whatever, showcasing unique abilities and talent.

cobra kai and miyagi do both face frictions with other teams in the tournament. an aggressive and brutal dojo accuses cobra kai of being frauds who can’t live up to their intimidation tactics (blame kwon for that one, him intimidating others outside of the mat.) leads to that sort of confrontation.

miyagi-dos defense style is mocked by other dojo who sees it as way too soft. tension brews between alllll the teams. it isn’t just a cobra kai and miyagi do thing against all, all dojos have issues w each other.

several preliminary matches are shown, including standout fights featuring (sam, hawk, devon) and (tory, yoon, kwon) other cobra kai teamates deserved to be mentioned more.

tensions rise between tory and another dojos female fighter. tory isn’t balanced and dealing with the grief of her mother still. this girl from the other team is aggressive and fast. forcing tory to become the same. letting out her anger and almost gets disqualified.

johnny and daniel struggle to keep the peace between miyagi do. they’re fighting well, but not as good as they possibly could be. they’re losing a lot of matches and the team becomes completely divided. one side saying to fight aggressive; other side saying to defend

things begins to get a lil heated OUTSIDE of tournament.. rival dojos begin sabotaging each other outside the matches. a lot of street fights if you will. or just them fucking with eachother. an example: miyagi do member is ambushed completely by another dojo.

sam is targeted by a rival fighter in a dirty off the matt attack. causing noticeable, bad injuries, miguel jumps in to defend her and makes himself a target for specific dojo.

the brawl: a rival dojo manipulates tensions between miyagi do and cobra kai. possibly spreading a false rumour. like cobra kai plotting to sabotage a miyagi do fighter by injuring them with an illegal move they could disguise as not an illegal move lol.

yada, yada, yada. something happens, someone could hit someone else, the big brawl happenes!

during big brawl, tory could intervene to protect devon and takes a severe hit leaving her threatened with life changing injuries.

let’s get to kwon real quick: instead of him being an asshole and just getting killed. it’s established that kwon is one of the best fighters on the tournament. during brawl kwon gets ambushed by a jealous rival dojo or just a rival who wants to quite literally take him outta commission 😵.

kwon could also have a personality, so just not an asshole.. or not an asshole all the time , so he’s NOT a bad person and his team actually fw him.

say the ambush is so bad it triggers people from cobra kai to try and rescue him.. another way tory could get critically injured trying to protect him.

‘why tory?’ you may ask.. and why not? kwon was just introduced. it gives off more shock factor that a main character got hurt instead of him.

the impact of tory’s injury:

shock factor- tory being critically injured instead of kwon would exceed expectations.. like NO ONE could’ve seen it coming. her injury would create an emotional gut punch for characters like devon, sam, robby.

next, a full tournament arc. this would give the series time to delve into each fighting style, all the dojos. here’s how they could do it:

establish rivalries. cross-dojo friendships and betrayals .. this one could be interesting. inner team drama.

different fights during the sekai taikai:

tag team matches.

weapon kata demonstrations

survival matches

free for all battles

team relay matches

speed challenges

lastly, activities that the captains of each dojo would have to do or all the kids in the comp:

1. leadership seminar; captains are required to give speeches or participate in discussions about their dojos philosophy, training style, discipline, skills.

2. demonstration matches; captains are required to participate in matches to show their skills and set an example.

3. coaching workshop; leadership skills between the captains would be tested. captains would have to try and coach fighters from the other dojos.

as you can see if you’ve read up to this point, there’s A LOT .. i am a professional yapper. relaying back to my point. all this couldn’t fit into 5 episodes between 30-40 minutes, that’s why everything should’ve been bigger, longer.

CK doesn’t have the budget im aware so most of these are just headcannons unless someone wants to write a fic and do a whole rewrite.. which I might be up to do.. however i cant write for shit😭

uhm yeah 👌

[lipstickchainsaw]

We start creeping closer to the turn, with Ambessa talking about the three points of Strength that Noxus prizes in a way that Vi's talk about trust will mirror later in the episode.

Ambessa's teaching Caitlyn about Noxian philosophy very much as a part of her growing affection for Caitlyn, as she looks for an outlet for her feelings of motherly affection while her actual daughter is experiencing the horrors.

The core elements of strength, to Noxus, are:

-Vision, 'charting a course and having the wisdom to navigate it'. It's interesting that this is such a naval metaphor, because Ambessa's more of an army general than a navy admiral, and it's not like Caitlyn's going to especially receptive to naval metaphors, either. Regardless, in keeping with Caitlyn as a sniper, this is one she's arguably closest to herself.

-Might, 'bending your environment to your will'. This is a framing that seems to fit Ambessa better, as she has turned Piltover to her own purposes quite effectively. For all the flaws in her ethos, it's undeniable she has presence. Caitlyn did plenty of this when unleashing the Grey, but we haven't seen her do it much since becoming a dictator. Ambessa frames this more as 'force', anyway, including force of will, but Caitlyn already argues that doing too much of it exposes you to risk. This would be a fun beat if Caitlyn was already planning to betray her, but I don't think she is.

I do like that Ambessa genuinely appreciates Caitlyn engaging with her philosophy on this point. It really sells the idea that she is actually starting to mentor Caitlyn properly.

-Guile, which Ambessa doesn't so much describe as heap scorn on as belonging to 'phantoms, tricksters, mages, absent honor, absent accountability', clearly having the Black Rose in mind here. She doesn't present this as a respectable point of the triangle, and it is very fun that this dialogue plays over Caitlyn attacking Ambessa in the back and actually managing to bloody her. It'd be excellent foreshadowing if we actually saw Caitlyn do something before her turn this act.

'Tunnels in your eyes, lava in your veins, shadows in your heart'. She's always had the tunnels in her eyes, she'll do fine with the shadows in her heart, and the lava in her veins, well...

Ambessa then talks about 'discovering' a fourth principle, which is essentially the veneration of suffering again, but basically boils down to 'you'll fight harder when the stakes are higher'. It's very much her trying to cope with how much she's lost recently, and her trying to make Caitlyn her protege is a core part of that.

All in all, the fact that this is part of a training session means I want to take a look at this through the lens of these characters as the weapons they wield. I don't know what to make of Ambessa yet, because we haven't really seen her fight, but this is very much an attempt to turn Caitlyn into something more than just a sniper.

We've seen people's arsenals change as their personalities shift before. For example, after Vi destroyed Pow-Pow, Jinx' mini-gun, in episode 3, Jinx was left with only her pistol, and she's become a much more focused and directed person since.

So what does it mean for Caitlyn to switch from being a sniper, with a narrow, single-minded focus often blind to the consequences or wider context of her actions, to someone fighting in melee? Does it signify her putting herself at risk more, instead of only risking her target slipping out of reach? Does it mean she has to be more aware of what's happening around her, because something blindsiding her could fuck her up in one go? Does it mean she has to learn to stand her ground more, because she can no longer rely on repositioning when her position gets a little dicey?

Something to keep an eye on.

Given that Caitlyn's turn in episode 6 is the one I understand the least, I'm going to pay some additional attention to her scenes with Ambessa in this series of posts, to see if I can tease something out of this that I missed in my first viewing.

Starting with episode 4

For one, the image of Ambessa poking at a log in an attempt to get a little more out of a dying fire is a good image, but it does make me regret that we didn't get to see much of what Caitlyn's rule looked like when it was a roaring blaze.

Because the fire represents the efficacy of what Ambessa's trying to push in Caitlyn: her anger, her rage, her desire to get revenge. She frames this as Caitlyn's search for Jinx, because this is what she hopes to stoke in Caitlyn, but what makes this scene work is that it's also true of her own desire to have Mel back, even as she starts to displace some of this affection for her daughter onto Caitlyn herself.

Because Ambessa absolutely appreciates the fact that Caitlyn's willing to talk back, and able to use Ambessa's only rhetorical flourishes against her. It reminds her, in a way, of Mel, and just like Mel, this would-be daugher also talks about wanting peace without having to resort to violence.

Although Caitlyn's 'arrests require cause' bit is, again, odd, because you initiated martial law. You can blame Rictus for the fight all you like, but what situation do you think you're living under? There's a serious disconnect in how these two women see the oppressive regime they've initiated.

Then again, Ambessa understands war weariness and how to deal with it, so she coaxes a few more flames out of the dying embers, and off we go!

[mellohiizz]

can i get just art of uu!minute a he stands there full of shame by ash's side? knowing he is nothing more then a tool now, and will never make it upto spoke, or planet, or mapicc and squiddo. even if he doesnt trust them as far as he can throw them, he cant bring himself to look the closest thing he will ever have to friends in the eyes as he stands at his enemies side.

well, anon. hello. ^_^ let me just ask you something first. first of all! how dare you. second of all. who hurt you?? why are you like this? what's your backstory? i need to know what to use against you./j you're now part of the problem, and my therapist will hear about you.

i did draw it, but without any whimsy. why are people sending me angst filled requests? can i please just be silly and draw gays and girls?

[langernameohnebedeutung]

.

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Cross' Spy Adventures)

Hi guys! I'm back! This one has been eating at me so forgive me if it's a bit rougher than the others, but I hope you still enjoy! (And if plot details don't seem to line up? Remember Cross has no clue what's going on yet :] )

Context: Cross has been asked by Dream to do recover information on his brother's next plans of attack. He's not a very good spy.

(Hi to @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz !!!)

Stars this place was big.

He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be on a castle grounds after so many years roughing it with Ink. Inns and taverns and tents. He wasn't sure how much he enjoyed being back in the throes of the rich and powerful's estates.

The cart-ride with the other new recruits had been pleasant enough, they were all decently friendly guys. A few were putting on that tough-guy facade, but none of them could've been older than 25. Fresh off the press, practically. Perfect soldiers to be brainwashed.

Cross had laughed and joked with them about what life in the castle might be like. How different it would be from the old daily grind. How maybe they'd pick up a hot partner in town on their patrols. How they hoped they'd eat like kings.

Though, Cross noticed that each of them got cagey when word of the King resurfaced. One birdish-monster mourned that she couldn't have served the last King, Nim, before she passed on to join the gods. Another spoke of the honor it would bring for him to serve the blood of Nim.

They seemed averse to even acknowledging King Nightmare's existence. Aside from his connection to Nim.

Now, the chatter was all silent, and Cross was among the many new soldiers who were ogling the castle as they passed around its outer wall and entered through a side gate.

It was, admittedly, impressive.

His own home kingdom had less of a castle, more of a monolith. It had been dense, and tall, and impossibly smooth. His father couldn't stand imperfection.

This castle was almost the exact opposite of what Cross had always known. The walls imperfect and overlapping, rather than brick it looked like it had burst straight up from the ground. Bumpy and imperfect and natural, and yet beautiful and structurally stable. He didn't linger on it, but he wanted to so badly.

Instead, he drew his attention ahead. To where a man stood, his armor decorated in the marks which indicated him as a reporting officer.

This man, a human with a crooked nose and a thick, black, beard held up a hand, and the driver of the cart tugged at his reigns, the horses pulling to a slow stop.

One by one, once given the signal, the soldiers filed out. Stating their rank, their camp of origin, and their name.

Cross was middle of the pack, and saluted the human as Dream had taught him and as everyone had done before him.

"1st Year Guard, Pierson Camp, Z." He reported.

He was not proud of his code-name. It physically hurt to say it with a straight face, but when he'd been talking about needing a new code name, Ink had excitedly suggested it.

Z, he'd said, Like 'X' but not! And Cross hadn't been able to shut the idea down when Dream had giggled and tapped his cheekbone, the spot just under his eyelight that held is scar.

Dream had called it fitting, and it'd been settled in a heartbeat.

Cross managed to say it aloud without any hint of suspicion and was waved off to join his fellow recruits.

They lined up haphazardly, but didn't dare to do more than grin and snicker between eachother at. Well. Anything, it seemed. They were taking this very casually compared to what Cross had been expecting.

Though, the moment the captain was done looking to the cart for any stragglers, he turned. The soldiers all went still and aligned themselves.

Cross wondered how they survived training if they goofed off like that so readily.

He watched as the cart which had brought them circled away, and he listened carefully as the man introduced himself.

"I am Captain Rogers. Your platoon will report to me for any and all management. I control your training schedules, your mealtimes, and your work hours." He called out to them, right there on the lawn "you are here today to serve the blood of the gods, and by Nim's watch you will not slack on your oath. No matter how much you loathe it here. Understood?"

Such a bold declaration of... unrest.

The soldiers, one by one, gave affirmative nods and salutes, Cross making sure he wasn't the first. He didn't want to seem too eager.

The captain led them about.

He asked for them to stay in formation, and Cross ended up towards the middle of the pack yet again, just close enough to hear the explanations of their duties, places on the grounds they were allowed to go, and what their daily routine was meant to be like.

Near the stables, they paused briefly, and the Captain was taking an extra long time explaining that the horses in the stables were not to be ridden without explicate orders from him or another commanding officer.

Cross couldn't help but notice the guys ahead of him whispering about something, and Cross followed their miniscule gestures off to the left.

A black cat, wirey and short-hair. It was standing in the shadow of a fence, and he didn't think he would've spotted it if it weren't for its big, green eyes. They were like little saucers in its head.

It was staring straight at him. Tail flicking. One ear twitched.

Cross tried to ignore it, but when he'd glance back, it was still there.

Until, suddenly, it wasn't.

By the time they moved on, it was nowhere in sight.

His old home hadn't had many animals, especially not roaming cats. He wondered if it was a 'barn cat'. Blue had explained the concept to him once.

Regardless, that thing was freaky.

Finally, after what felt like hours of walking, the Captain announced that their last stop of the night would be to their quarters.

He could practically feel the relief rolling off of the guys next to him, and it took am effort to let his shoulders sag even an inch in imitation. The guy next to him looked like he might fall over, and Cross shared none of that exhaustion.

They would start their assignments bright and early in the morning, each of them would have a more experienced guard join them as a guiding measure before they were left to the duties themselves.

A much kinder grace period than Cross had been expecting, honestly.

The Captain escorted them down the halls, long and twisting. Each one held soldiers out of uniform, turning in for the night, going through their routines. As well as some moving out for the night shift. They ignored the rookies as they kept to their own business.

The Captain swung a door open, only to immediately block the soldiers in front from entering the space of relaxation beyond.

"Ah, Ccino, I was worried we'd missed you." The Captain spoke up.

"Soldiers, back up. Stand at attention." Came an order next.

Cross was faster than the others in recognizing the order, but forced himself to wait until the others stumbled into him to start moving. He wasn't sure why they were getting into this stance, but he knew better than to start asking questions.

They all stood in the hall, and Cross caught a few snickers from nearby lounging guards as the rookies stood there.

"The King called upon me, so I wasn't able to meet you where we had planned," a softer, calm, voice rang, "I figured I would run into you here before you turned in for your first night."

The Captain stood before them, and beside him, exiting the barracks, was a monster.

Cross tried not to stare, but he couldn't deny that this was odd. He'd never known a captain to bend to anyone but a higher up. But...

This skeleton was dressed in a servant's uniform. Granted, it was made of a thick, soft-looking brown and tan fabric, with an apron with more embroidery than he thought he'd ever seen in his life, but it was nothing too out of place.

Surely it wasn't a Knight. No, he'd been told they wore masks. He could tell this skeleton was not a Knight. He could see the full skull, soft and gentle, calm eyelights, and a body Cross swore had never seen a single battle.

No. Cross, stop that.

He didn't tear his eyes away, but he forced himself to look back to the skeleton's shoulder. No eye-contact, but still facing him. Good.

"Soldiers, This is our Head of House, Ccino." The Captain gestured to the skeleton at his side.

The soldiers all remained silent, and the captain nodded.

"If Ccino ever gives you any sort of order, you listen." The Captain's voice was harsh with this, the same way he'd spoken about the horses, and the kitchen, and the private training rooms they'd passed. "No questions, no hesitation, no disobeying. You understand?"

The squint of the Captain's eyes were more than enough for Cross to know better than to ask. Something like this was unfamiliar, for sure, but he knew when a soldier was saying something he truly believed in. Lived by. For better or worse.

None of the other recruits seemed to speak up. Cross certainly didn't. He tried not to let his nerves show as this skeleton, Ccino, let's his soft white eyelights skim softly from one soldier to the next. When they came to him, he desperately avoided the gaze, practically staring a hole into the soft fur scarf wrapped around his neck, hiding his spine from view.

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," That calm voice again, "As you heard, my name is Ccino. I manage the Castle, it's grounds, and the people who stay within our walls. This includes all if you, as of tonight."

He seemed rather put-together. Pleasant. Cross didn't feel any unease. He was positive, now, that this was not a Knight. Yet, he couldn't figure out why such a monster would be held in such high regard, unless, of course...

"As you heard, our King trusts my decisions regarding these matters, which is why he asks you listen to my requests. However, I don't abuse this privilege, and it shouldn't dissuade you from coming to me if you have any problems." Ccino pulled his arms to cross infront of him, and once again looked over the recruits. "You may be our guard, but that does not mean you shouldn't recieve help as well. If you cannot find me, ask another servant and they will get word to me."

Ccino seemed... kind. That had to be it.

The sparkle of admiration in the captain's eyes. The way some of the soldiers watched. Maybe Ccino was the golden light in this dark place? Though, that didn't seem quite right.

"Stick to your duties, remain diligent, and you will be cared for here." He said softly. "Now, stand down and go rest. Your training tomorrow will be thorough, and you will need the extra sleep."

Oh.

Cross recognized the order, and his body moved a bit before his mind could catch up. He relaxed, as much as he naturally could, and took a step. Toward the barracks. Then paused and glanced like a deer in the headlights to the Captain and the Head of House.

Ccino just smiled, and the Captain seemed stoic.

"Seems Z gets first dibs on the cots!" The Captain announced, and with his approval, humor seeping into his tone a bit, and laughter echoing from the older guard who'd been observing?

Cross made the quick duck into the room and grabbed for the first cot he saw. Bottom bunk, closest to the door, the easiest way he'd be able to leave the long room of bunk beds.

The others hurried in after him, some laughing, others cursing jokingly at Cross having noticed the test first.

The test.

Of course it'd been a test. A test to see if they'd recognize Ccino as an authority figure. A test to see if they took the warning seriously. Cross just listened to the superior officer. And... put himself in the limelight of excelling new recruits.

If there was one good thing, though it was mortifying, the others didn't seem to notice what it was. They were too busy teasing Cross for the grape blush that enveloped his face the moment he sat to think it over. The others assumed he'd just slipped up. Listened to the prettiest person in the room.

Once again, Cross wondered how they'd made it through training. Though, it was good they just thought he was a stupid lover boy. Better than them realizing he was following orders on instinct.

It'd been a hard sell, getting to sleep, but he'd managed somehow.

.

The morning was much easier than the night prior. He woke up before the sun, before a lot of the others even showed signs of stirring. It was good he got up so early, sneaking off probably wouldn't be much of an issue.

Tomorrow, then. He'd do his sneaking tomorrow, after he got a lay of the land today. From what they'd been told, he'd be supervised today. Everyone would. It was different from what the Prince had told him, but it didn't matter. Policies could change, and Cross knew better than to disobey new policies.

The castle inside felt like a maze yesterday, he'd hopefully have routes inside, so he'd be able to memorize at least a few escapes. Orient himself. Worst case he could break a window.

He didn't want to leave any trace, though. The best scenario, as Dream had explained it, was that he'd get in, get the information, and get out. A week, maybe a week and a half tops. Cross wanted to spend as little time here as possible. He didn't want to fall into whatever mind-control he'd been warned of. He didn't want to run into the Knights. He certainly didn't want to see Dream's twin.

Though, he was curious. What he looked like. If he could see the sibling resemblance between the Prince and his supposedly brainwashed ruler of a sibling. It was honestly none of his business. If the King never saw his face, that would be all the better. He shouldn't know Cross was ever here at all.

The thoughts swirled in hid head as he stared at the bottom of the cot above his. Wood slats, the whole thing was sturdy wood, with decent mattresses and blankets and pillows resting on its support. It didn't creak at all, which was good. And surprising. Everything in the castle seemed so nice.

Mm, must've been a thing for the people here. Serve the 'gods' and live in luxury. It certainly seemed that was how the Prince's camp had run as well.

Cross couldn't be sure how long he was awake, examining the room and sitting still, but the sun managed to rise into the sky by the time he'd heard the slamming knock on the door to the barracks.

It was easy for him. When the Captain swung the door wide open and announced, in a hardy shout, that they were to be in the hall in 5? Cross rolled out of bed the moment the door closed again.

It pained him to move so slowly. He couldn't be the first one out again. Couldn't be the first one dressed. He didn't know why it took so long for the others to change to their uniforms and rub the sleep from their eyes. Monsters and humans alike! They hustled, some of them, and Cross was grateful a cat monster seemed to gather herself more readily than the others. An orange striped cat, her nose and the tip of her tail a stark white. Cross only noticed her when she rushed for the door, and he let himself trail her a moment later.

Thinking back, she'd been at the back of the group yesterday, joking with some of the others. Cross wondered what the energy change was all about.

He didn't get time to worry about it, though. The hall outside the barracks was busier than it had been last night, and Cross found himself facing, not only the Captain, but also several guards. They each seemed to be in full uniform, different than Cross' or the cat's which marked them as trainees. They seemed stoic before their captain, and Cross almost felt a moment if relief. Maybe this was a decent show of artillery?

No, wait, strong soldiers would be bad for the Prince. He'd have to get through these guys.

He shook away the thought, listening in as he stood awkwardly in the hall, another recruit lumbering out to stand where he'd joined the cat already.

The Captain looked them over, before nodding.

"Harper, you're with Jenna." The Captain ordered, pointing from the cat before gesturing towards one of the guard directly behind him.

Cross tried not to let his eyelights give away his observance as the guard stepped around her captain. She seemed to be a bunny monster, lots of fur and long, floppy ears tied behind her head. She, Jenna, saluted the cat, Harper, and Harper saluted in return.

"Listen to what your mentor tells you, got it?" The Captain asked, and Cross saw a few others exiting as he said this.

Those who started moving down the hall, and the Capatin looked to Cross. It was a kick glance, one look-over, before he turned and looked over his shoulder.

"Z, you're with Shep." And a gesture guided Cross towards whoever his mentor for the day would be.

From nearly the back of the crowd, snaked a dog monster. Black and white, short-trimmed fur. His eyes were brown and intense, and after a moment Cross realized this guard was shorter than him. He didn't like that when Shep saluted, he had to peer down to salute back.

He hardly even registered that they were already moving off, not unlike the two before them had done, until he'd taken a few steps to follow this small royal guard.

"So, you're Z?" Shep asked him as they stopped a few halls away. This one was largely barren aside from a few servants. Along each wall hung a huge tapestry, woven out of heavy threads and hung by a long piece of metal along the top edge.

"Yes, sir." Cross responded shortly. Not giving himself a moment to stammer.

Shep looked at his quizzically, before he leaned forward and sniffed. Actually just sniffed at Cross. It was still a few inches away, they didn't make contact, but suddenly he worried he was stinky. He's bathed before hopping on the cart, and he hadn't been exercising much, surely-

"Ah, you're not from this Kingdom! Not originally, at least." Shep said then, leaning away just as quickly as he'd gotten close.

Cross blinked, and he was sure his skull didn't hide his shock as well as he'd hoped. "I can smell the pollen on you, newbie. We don't have those kinda plants in this kingdom." He explained, and Cross internally cursed himself. Would he have to run? Would he have to-

"You know, I'm not from this kingdom either, I was born to the west." Shep admitted then, easily, using a paw to gesture loosely at the space between them, "I bet we'll get along just fine, newbie. C'mon. I'll show you around your route."

Cross didn't even get a spare second to defend himself, or puzzle at why a foreign monster would choose to come here. Shep was already on his way, back turned and hurrying down the hall at a brisk pace.

"As far as I know You're gonna be taking over my old route, inner portion of the castle." Cross listened, but orders were his second nature. As they walked, he eyed the tapestries hung along the wall. Long and intense, and yet, there was a moment where Cross could see the colors were more faded and worn.

"You'll mostly just be patrolling, watching out for anything out of the ordinary, waiting to see if you're needed for any specific duties." The images showed monsters, humans, monsters again. Depictions of complex circles and red splashes dripping from weapons and hands. And he noticed a trend, eventually. These must've been the previous rulers. The past Kings.

"Your patrols will be alone, the rooms in the hall aren't too important, and it's mostly servants that pass through that way." Cross almost lost his rhythm as they drew to the end of the tapestry, though the hall kept moving. There on the tapestry was a depiction of two little skeletons, one which seemed strikingly similar to Prince Dream, even in his adulthood. Beyond, the tapestry simply stopped. It was odd that King Nightmare hadn't bothered to get it finished with his own visage. Maybe his puppetmaster was waiting to put himself there instead?

"Still important, anyways. The servants halls are the easiest ways in and out of the castle, so we can't slack off." They turned a corner, and Cross pried his eyes away from the tapestry and back before him.

They passed a few more halls, before Shep stopped dead in his tracks, and Cross reacted quickly, spotting the way he peaked around the next corner.

Across the way, Cross spotted that they'd run into another pair who had also stopped. Only when Shep saluted did Cross think to follow his lead.

From the hall he couldn't see, emerged a figure.

Cross kept his eyelights to the ground, but the steps, the shoes, the heavy cape, and especially the dark and slimey tendrils which snaked along in his wake? That was the King. The one Dream had been so particular about not running into at all.

Two sets of feet followed him. Closely. He didn't have to look up to recognize that they must've been Knights. The easy weight of their steps, how close they stuck behind the king, the weight of the one's magic? Surely. He didn't risk a glance until after Shep lifted his head again. Cross only caught a glimpse of a tiger mask turning another corner before the three figures were gone.

In the tense silence, Cross swore he could hear his soul beating. He wasn't sure if it was fear, or indignance, or something else, but he knew being so close to the King had not made him feel good. Dream had been right, something about that guy was wrong.

Shep glanced around, and his ear twitched, watching down the hall where they'd left to.

The group across from them was already moving, towards the hall Cross had just cone from.

"You know, you kids are lucky Newbie." Shep voiced then, eying up the human rookie who was passing by. "When I first joined the guard, the King cut my tail off to prove my loyalty."

He said it so easily that Cross was speechless. What did he mean? Was. His tail was docked, but...

"What?!" The panicked whisper came from the passing humans who had obviously been eavesdropping. He expressed the concern coating Cross's soul and freezing him in place.

"Yep. I heard he used it as a cat toy for the strays." Shep confirmed loosely.

"Shep." Came the snap of his name from the other trained guard, though they didn't move to deny his claim.

Cross hadn't heard anything about that from Dream. Of course, he also hadn't heard about this introduction process either. He was flying blindly here, and suddenly he feared for his limbs.

Shep simply shrugged and kept moving forward. Cross wanted, badly, to excuse himself right this moment and go back and claim he couldn't do it. But he was here now, and he had a Prince to help. And a whole lot of people relying on him to prevent more tragedies.

The training wasn't hard. Shep stood with him, made small-talk, told him all the tricks to ensure he knew when someone would switch off with him, and then they had lunch.

He hated to admit it, but the food was delicious. He hadn't had something so filling in... maybe ever. He couldn't put his finger on it, not quite, but for monster food, it felt solid. Warmer. He felt less hungry after, and a part of him wondered if that was how they did it. The mind control. Was it the food?

But, no, surely not. He was still set on his mission when he went right back to his rounds. The food was just... strangely good.

The rest of the rounds were easy. Simple. And there was at least an hour after where Shep willingly guided him through the rest of the building. At least, anywhere he could.

Cross noticed, once, that Shep broke a rule. He ducked into the kitchen. Returned to a surprised Cross with two pieces of bread and handed one to Cross before tearing into his own. Apparently, from what Shep said, the main kitchen wasn't off-limits. Not really. Just the private one.

He didn't ask about the difference, he wouldn't need to know, after all. He doubted plans of attack were stached in the cupboards of a pantry.

And just as swiftly as it had begun, it ended. Shep said he'd be around the training grounds tomorrow if Cross needed him, and released him to dinner. After Dinner, Cross went back to the barracks.

Many of the rookies were talking all about their routes, others complaining that they had gotten cleaning duties for being the last out of the barracks that morning. They'd start training tomorrow. Cross tried not to contribute much, but he liked listening in. Understanding more about the place. The people.

It sounded like the King had crossed quite a few of their paths as well, and they didn't seem happy about it. Discussing in hushed tones how weird the King was compared to the last. Dark, secretive, hardly even a ruler. Cruel. He heard the human from before shamelessly telling Shep's tail misfortune to the gathered group, who all seemed to be riled up by it, exchanging other horrible speculations.

He needed to get this information. He just... he couldn't do anything until the others were asleep. So. Morning it would be.

.

Cross was a coward.

He knew as much, deep down somewhere, but as he woke up early again, he thought through his plan. He didn't know where he'd find any of this information he needed, he didn't know anything beyond his own route. He didn't even know what he'd be finding. He'd know when he found it, he was sure, but the last thing he wanted to do was get caught

He should've excused himself during dinner to go search around, or chosen a buddy to go wandering with. Shep had told him some things, he knew the room where the Knights trained was the indoor room, and he knew some areas no one went to. He knew the hall where the Knights and King stayed, Cross found it interesting they all stayed nearby, and he'd promised himself he'd avoid the space like the plague. He knew so much, and so little, all at once.

And he waited, thinking, so long that he... he just got up as the others did. Moved to his station to rotate shifts with the night guards. He just... did his duties again.

Well, they weren't his duties. He had no obligation to be here, not really. But the Prince had told him a week. A week and a half. That would make the most sense for an in and out. So, he wanted to respect that. And he had orders now to act out. Surely if he slacked off it'd be noticed, right? Yeah. He'd just slip away before dinner and say he went to train a bit more. Peak into some doorways. No biggy. Surely.

He worried about what he'd do to pick up a slack he hadn't even lost, all day. All through his rounds. If he showed it, his replacement at his last post said nothing, and waved him off.

Cross wanted so desperately to go searching. But. Before he could pass by the hall which would lead to the mess hall for the servants and guard? He glimpsed them from down the adjoining hall.

Two of the Knights.

One with a hood obscuring his face, casting a heavy shadow over everything, his eyelights a dull white. Though he didn't see a mask at first glance, Cross had to make some assumptions based on the one beside him that they were both Knights.

The other had on leather training armor, and a tiger's mask, red ribbons hanging from it, swaying with weight. He could see the skeleton's grin peaking from beneath the mask, and noticed how the tiger draped an arm over the other and laughed.

Cross didn't even give them a second to notice him, swiftly stepping out of the corridor and towards the dining halls after all. He didn't want to get in the way. He didn't want to be on their radar.

He needed to know when they trained. When they'd all be occupied so he wouldn't have to worry about them catching him off-guard.

Off guard. Ink would be having a hayday with that one if he'd made that joke back at camp.

Cross just kept moving forward, ducking into the dining space before the Knights even reached that hall.

.

Three days. It took him 6 whole days to learn more. To learn where the information might be. To learn where the Knights usually were at any given time. To learn how to navigate the place better. To not worry about getting caught.

He'd gone back to Shep one day, to test if he'd be told to go off the dinner or if he'd be sought out. He was not, so he had his proof that no one cared so long as he was doing his rounds.

He'd sat and talked. Asked about the Knights. (Shep had little to say that Cross didn't already know). Asked about training. (Shep said he was always out here now, running routines.) Asked about the king.

And Shep was interested about him asking on the King. Cross almost fumbled, but said he'd heard a lot of rumors. Shep had been here a while. What was true?

And Shep told him stories. In a low voice. Of the King breaking spines, of throwing objects with his tendrils, of sentencing folks to death over minor transgressions. Of his ruthless rule and cruel first. How he brought in servants and guards by force. Ripping them from their homes. How the king would declare traitors and have them hung.

Eventually, Cross asked him to stop. He'd heard enough.

Some of those things he'd heard from Dream, or the folks back at that encampment. Others were new. Insider information. Things he'd never dreamed of.

It was informational, and Cross decided that he'd keep learning more, until he was sure he had the perfect moment to strike.

.

He wasn't the smartest, okay?

Cross had done his rounds, and the moment he was done, he scurried off towards his destination.

He paid no mind to servants or guards, and used a servant's hall to arrive in the location he needed. The hall where the King's Study was located.

Yesterday he'd investigated the war room. Entering and closing the doors behind him, the room had been a mess of papers and figures and notes. The maps of each neighboring kingdom alone were strewn on walls, like the ravings of a mad-man. None of them had plans of attack, though. The light from his eyelights had been enough to illuminate each one as he approached. Every single one was a new defensive plan. Ways to deploy troops if they were attacked. Not one seemed unprovoked which was... strange.

Cross was almost unable to find any sign of the King's next route of action for his destructive feats, so he was resigned to search the study tomorrow. His only solace was that exiting the War Room had only been met with a servant a ways down the hall, and a cat pacing by, paying him no mind.

The cats in this place were many. Cross had never seen so many cats in one place, and when he'd asked at dinner, it seemed that everyone thought they belonged to the Head of House, Ccino.

It would make sense, Cross had seen the embroidery along his apron, plenty of paws and cat-like figures along the hemlines, between the branch and tree motif the entire building seemed set on holding tight to. But, it amazed him that there would be so many, allowed to run free. The King must've been very lenient with his Head of House, to allow so many creatures free-roam.

...then again, the Knights wore masks decorated with Big Cats. Cross had finally caught a glimpse of the Lion, out on the lawn while he was talking to Shep. He carried an Axe twice the size of Cross' torso, and he seemed to wield it with hardly any problem. Cross just hoped the little beasts weren't being sacrificed. He'd heard about the barbaric practices from Ink once when he had his head on straight. He hadn't had the guts to bring it up to the Prince. Or Shep. Fearing the answer.

And so, now, he moved for the study. When he knew no one would be around, when no one would see him or bother him. He could dig through the information, tuck it away in his ribcage, and get out of dodge.

It was mid-day. Apparently the Knights tended to have training about now, and the King always supervised. So the forbidden hall, as the others called it, was dead and silent.

It wasn't hard to determine which door was the study, the door was carved carefully with a beautiful tree, and the handle was a shining gold, as though it got less use than the other rooms. He tested the handle, it moved, and he slipped inside.

Of course it wouldn't be locked. Who would have the guts to go snooping around in the private spaces of murderous tyrant kings? Well. Cross would, but that was besides the point.

The inside was lit by a few stray candles, and Cross tried not to marvel at the luxury of the room. Everything was carved out of dark wood, with golden fabric lacing the cushions of lounge seats and the curtains which covered the windows. It was darker, used, but still gorgeous. The daylight filtered in through an open window, giving it a warm ambience. Cross didn't know how a room used by such an unpleasant man would be so calm and soft.

There was a case along one wall, large and long. Hung inside were masks of all different shapes and styles. Some were decorated with swirls and gems, but most resembled animals. A crane, a swan, a horse, a sheep, a hawk, a wolf, they all stared out at him with blank, empty, sockets. He wondered if these were used or not, but they seemed untouched.

And beside that case, in the far corner, sat a heavy desk, with bookshelves filled to the brim tucked just behind it.

The desk was heavy, and it looked to be covered with papers, letter drafts, just a quick glance over the contents told Cross this was just what he needed.

He stood behind the desk, unable to stop himself from lifting the papers up into his hands. From here he could see the door, as well. He'd know if someone was coming.

The first paper he looked at seemed to be the draft of a letter, addressed to someone by the name of Crop. The handwriting was beautiful, and Cross was lucky Ink knew how to write in so many dialects, or he'd have trouble deciphering exactly what this was saying. The cursive was precise. And... it seemed a half-finished letter asking about plants. The state of a harvest? No, that's strange.

Cross lifted the few pages which had been tucked beneath the first, confused. These ones seemed to be written in a much more unsure writing, but they held what he could only call sketches. Showing clouds and plants and... fields? Cross wasn't familiar with farming, but he could recognize a field anywhere. The paper had a few words underlined and circled, and they seemed to be later additions, added overtop by someone else. The words seemed to be mentioned again in the letter draft? It was completely innocuous. If this was the King's letter, he was just asking about the wellbeing of a farmer's harvest. Asking about improvements.

He moved them hastily into a stack and set them aside, reaching for the next haphazard bundle of paper. That couldn't have been right.

The next piece he scooped up was in that same pretty cursive, but this time it wasn't a letter. Instead it was some sort of list. Locations, some crossed off, and some untouched. Was this what he was searching for? Surely this was it.

He moved to grab the next page that had been beneath it. It held more context, it seemed. Notes scribbled down about how these towns needed changes. Action. Cross looked to the first crossed-off name, one he recognized from one of the woman at Dream's encampment.

The paper read of a faulty justice system, a lawman who needed to be checked up on for counts of bribery and false accusations. She'd said the Knight, the tiger, had arrived and asked for their head of city guard, the one who enforced rules and kept peace in their small village. Two days later he was killed, replaced by someone the King installed, and he started jailing innocent folks.

Cross looked to the next one, a pass where travel had been haunted by the royal guard. He'd been told they'd done it to halt people from mining in the area, a crop of wealth the King wanted to hoard. But this said that it was a mountain pass with frequent and dangerous rocks lines thanks to a sudden increase in storms since his rule. Notes reminding of supplies, and pay, and signs. Signs.

The next was not crossed off. An issue of bandits ransacked the town when people would enter or exit. Notes in messier scrawl seemed to pose solutions. Ideas. One that was circled said 'Send Horror, Autumn'. It was nearing the end of summer now.

This did seem to be the list that Dream had suggested existed, my twin is organized, he'll have a list with extensive notes, but he'd said nothing about the way the list wouldn't actually contain anything incriminating.

He skimmed again, but it seemed like nothing harmful. One lower down even acknowledged a damage caused during some sort of raid and to divert funds to someone. A random shopkeep in an outer city. This didn't add up at all.

He folded the paper silently and stuffed it into his armor, but kept looking. No doubt there would be something else. One of the lower pieces, something hidden away.

But the papers atop the desk seemed just as helpful in nature. Even ones like drafted decrees or laws to impose later were not unreasonable. One even seemed to propose a ban on child labor. What kind of tyrant would pass up a chance for easy workers?

Digging through the drawers revealed nothing more, just an impressive collection of quills, ink, and more books it seemed didn't fit on the shelves behind him. He wouldn't find anything more useful than these documents, he was sure. He... he just hoped the Prince would be able to see whatever evil Cross was obviously missing here. He scooped up another piece, one of the decrees, and then the letter draft to that Crop. Maybe they could speak to him? No, the planning was up to Dream. He was just here to get the information and go.

And now that he had it...

Cross sighed a bit, he couldn't understand why these were the things in here. In this innermost sanctum where only the trusted went. Everyone feared this King so much, Dream claimed he and his master were such a threat. And yet all Cross could find was a record of damages, and a plan to enact damage control. It...

"Having some trouble finding the dirt?"

Cross felt his entire soul freeze up as the voice cut through the silent room. It was quiet, and deep, and a bit gravelly. He didn't recognize it, but that didn't matter, because he knew he had been alone.

Almost all at once, a wave of presence crashed over his awareness. That damp static that had passed by once in the hall. Trailing the King. He didn't have to look up to know it was one of the Knights somewhere before him.

"Our King isn't usually one to make a mess." The voice said again, calmly.

Cross dragged his eyelights up, hands tentatively hovering at his sides. There, sat comfortably on one of the chairs, was the hooded one. Dust, Shep had told him.

Now, despite the shadow cast by his hood, Cross could see the faint details of his panther mask, black and hidden away in the darkness of his cover. He seemed entirely at-ease, not a care in the world, watching Cross. If his soul hadn't been sinking into his gut, Cross would've even thought Dust found the situation humorous.

He steeled himself, watching. Could he try and bluff his way out of this? Somehow? How long had Dust been there? How much had he seen?

"Any chance you'd believe I was looking for a good book?" Cross asked, though the bold humor he'd attempted to channel in the way Ink had done so many times before fell flat. Maybe his growing panic was clouding his mind, or maybe he'd never been much of a comedian.

Dust just stared at him, tilting his head a bit. By the way his eyelights changed shape, Cross imagined his sockets had drooped to give an unamused stare. Not a great sign.

"Are you going to try and run, or can I catch a break today?" Dust just asked across the room.

Mm. Cross didn't have much of a choice here anymore. Dream had told him, drilled it into his skull, not to get caught. Especially not by the Knights. They'd torture him. Kill him. The stories of what they did to traitors... Cross couldn't let this knight get hold of him. Couldn't be trapped. He had to get out of here.

He promised Ink he'd be back.

With that thought, his sword summoned to his hand in a flash. It was big, and bulky, and not the best for an indoor fight, but he'd make due. He just needed to get away from this guy. That was all.

His summons was clearly a declaration of intent, because he heard Dust scoff over the rush of adrenaline running through him and roaring through his ears. All at once, the electric charge in the room seemed to up itself. Bones, blue, cracked downwards from the rafters and planted themselves sturdy before the door and the window. His two possible exits. Dust stood up and stretched his arms before him.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Dust voiced, then.

Cross nearly let his guard down in the first moment. He felt a charge of energy coming from his side, and narrowly vaulted over the desk to avoid the spiked and jagged bones which rose where his feet had just been planted.

Momentum carried him now, and his sword was already poised for attack before his mind quick processed it. He slashed at Dust, growing rapidly closer. Hid swing was met with pure white bones that stopped his swing, just enough for Dust to avoid the hit with a split second to spare.

He was quiet, as they fought. As Cross lunged and spun and threw himself forward with grunts of exertion. It was unsettling, how the only noises were the cracks of his magic ripping into existence or Cross's sword cracking them to pieces like a lumberjack's axe.

He kept his attention on Dust. The magic had a pattern. The room was buzzing ambiently, and right before an attack it was like being too close to a fire. Just briefly. Cross barely managed to avoid spearing his ankle thanks to the crackle. He wished he could be a bit faster, though. Cross couldn't feel where an attack was aiming like he normally could. Dust gave no indications as to where an attack would be channeling either, almost like he wasn't controlling them at all. He didn't like it, it was unpredictable, and was wearing him down fast.

Dust kept dodging his swings, no matter how fast he moved, and eventually Cross stumbled. His shoulder connected with one of the random jutting bones. Dust stepped back just before it pierced upwards, and Cross grunted in distress as it drove him back a step as to not get impaled.

That was apparently his mistake. The moment he wasn't close to Dust, bones seemed to crop up all around him, gutting at different angles, just barely piercing the bone, little cracks forming with the force. Cross could feel each one jab a bit deeper than the last. Each time he reversed to get away from one or break away an incoming volley, another would arrive behind him at a new angle.

He hated that Dust stood back. Watched. The only sign that he had even broken a sweat was a slight heaviness to the up and down of his shoulders, and while Cross hadn't lost much HP yet, he was starting to feel the exhaustion creep closer, and each little wound and crack seemed to be draining him. Was this the strategy? Play with him like a living pin-cushion? Was this it's own sort of-

Cross shifted his stance and unsummoned his weapon as he jumped up and out of the quickly growing ring of spikes. He had to act fast. He had to get out of here.

He grumbled a bit under his breath, he didn't like trying to do this, but...

The moment his feet landed, Cross summoned up his other piece of magic. The part his father had embedded into his soul early on in his life which made him so powerful. He was sure his normally white eyelight changed shape in the split second it happened. Red, bright red.

It only took a moment, a tug at the very being, hidden away in the Knight's chest. For a split second, he could feel the control of foreign magic slip into his own hands.

For a moment, it worked just as he knew it would. His fist trembled under the effort, keeping an eye on Dust as the other seemed to stare at him. The bones he'd summoned all seemed to sink away at once, recalled faster than Cross could've hoped. Dust seemed to feel his magic stop responding to him.

Cross just needed to get the Knight downed. Not dead. He just needed out.

He shifted stiffly. One, concentrated blast of bones at the Knight. He seemed like he didn't want to risk taking any damage. That was all Cross needed then. Some damage. And he'd be free to escape back to the camp. Away from these weird monsters with their weird magic.

He let his palm open, directing the force like he'd done so many times, channeling another monster's magic against them. Controlling it against their will.

The feeling of electricity rose again. It spiked. It. It gathered in his hand, that burning feeling he felt when an attack had been about to hit him.

What?

It was too late to recall the intent once he'd released it. The moment he tried to command the magic, he felt it all roll back over him. Bones meant to be aimed at their owner came jolting straight at his front. And though he stumbled back, he couldn't escape the searing pain of a fire too hot to process escaping his bones and immediately rushing up his arm, into his chest, down to his feet.

He had to imagine, with the loud sound like a cracking whip, that that was what being struck by lightning felt like. Molten metal in your veins.

Cross laid sprawled, dazed, on the floor as his control magic puttered out. It hurt to breathe. To see. To exit. He was half-convinced his arm was completely splintered apart after the pulse of raw magic that had filtered through it, but he didn't bother to look.

His soul begged him to move, to get up and run again, but darkness danced in his vision as he stared up at the ceiling. He failed his mission.

He hated to see as the Knight rounded into view, standing cautiously over where he was laid. Floored by the backfire of his power. If the knight said anything, he couldn't hear over the loud ringing invading his head.

Though, instead of stabbing him through like Cross had expected, the knight seemed to duck down. A cool feeling encased Cross' wrists (so the other hadn't broken apart) and his soul suddenly felt exhausted. He felt exhausted.

No matter how much he wanted to stay awake, to escape, he lost this fight fair and square.

[michaeljoncarter]

ALSO, like with just about everything about wyll in the full release version i m o, the way his interactions with mizora throughout the game were just sorta ported over without much tweaking to make them fit in with the new version of his character is so weird and clunky and just.... uncomfortable

the fact that mizora was mortal in the original version of the story was kind of an extremely important detail that not only wyll's entire character quest but also their entire relationship and history hinged on. the ea version of mizora was half-human, not a full devil, and according to dnd rules as i understand them, that means she would've had a regular human lifespan. (eta: yes, she's still called a cambion in the full version, but my issue is at some point between ea and full release, all the differences between cambions and devils apparently just up & vanished) so if ea mizora and ea wyll, who were around the same age, met when wyll was 17, that means they met when mizora was also somewhere in the range of her mid/late teens

there's obviously still an unhealthy power imbalance there with her being his patron and all, but there's a pretty big difference between a teenage boy being manipulated by an equally as young teenage girl into signing a pact vs a teenage boy being manipulated by a fully immortal & presumably-already-grown-at-the-time woman into signing himself into her service

and the flirty/sexual dialogue being left in makes this 100x worse. originally, mizora and wyll were explicitly in a romantic relationship that had just ended right before the game started (like literally right before. as in he told you that the nautiloid snatched them up WHILE he was in the middle of giving her his breakup speech (lmao)), but there is literally ZERO reason for the full release version of their relationship to have such a weirdly charged undertone to it??

you can't just take the dynamic of "toxic high school sweethearts who just had an insanely messy breakup 3 days ago after dating for 5+ years" and slap it onto "grownass woman who manipulated a teenage boy into signing his life away to her 5 years ago" with zero acknowledgement of the fact that that changes literally everything??

like sorry, this isn't just petty exes bickering anymore. this is now reading as nonstop sexual harassment, and to someone without the context of this happening due to a messyass rewrite (or even with it tbh), it's weird as fuck that some characters get entire arcs dedicated to unpacking the trauma that comes from being trapped in this exact dynamic, but with wyll, neither he nor the player ever get a chance to try to stop it or even really acknowledge the fact that it's happening in any significant way

the sloppiness of this whole rewrite is actually insane to me

[cosmicskittlez]

Yknow I feel like Void gets villainized a lot more than he deserves. Like yeah he was kind of a dick in the first week and genuinely dangerous in the second one, but BF was also the one egging him on and then tried to do that shit again without a crowd around. Yes void is egotistical but he's sure not a bad guy. Dudes just a little mentally unwell and seems like he was doing just fine until BF started one-upping him both privately and publicly.

Which now that I think about it, wasn't BF legit trespassing on stage during one of his concerts? And then after beating him multiples times went to find him again purely for a rematch? That is so close to just insane fan behavior tbh. Most I can really fault Void for is letting BF continue to do what he was doing and not kick him out when the Accretions thought that he should. He probably knew that it wouldn't go well for him but also didn't want to stop and never know if he actually couldn't have beat him at full strength. I think at the end of the day Void is just someone who's a little egotistical and stubborn, but his breakdown was majorly influenced more by the fact that someone just kept pushing their own luck and tried to beat Void at his own game, even when it was clearly sending him into a mental breakdown.

[sonics-left-shoe]

Tired of living in a period of enabled overconsumption and the quality of everything being replaced for cheaper alternatives with only higher prices. Tired of corporations being able to get away with selling products that won't last. Tired of unnecessary mass manufacturing. Tired of trends and impulsive purchases being encouraged by companies. Tired of celebrities being worshipped whilst they help destroy the environment. Tired of micro transactions and blatantly invasive advertisements everywhere. Tired of false advertisement, misinformation and clickbait being normalised. Tired of corporate fear mongering and blatant disregard of human livelihoods.

I'm so tired of all the wastefulness and cruelty and how corporations can just get away with it.

[kjzx]

I've been playing slitherio these past few days, and after some time messing around with nicknames and my own experience with the stuff, I've realized anger is something very easy to weaponize. On my second attempt of having "trans rights" as a nickname I killed a huge ~5k point worm as a teenie tiny 200 point worm simply because it was so desperate to kill me specifically. Anger makes your life harder, but it also makes people really unwise. I fucking bet this is in "the art of war", even though I haven't read it.

[tricks-n-illusions]

{ @askoinari } So, your one true wish in this whole entire universe is to die, hm? Tragic, pitiful really. All this fuss and a temper tantrum because you couldn’t win mommy’s love? Even your own god does not grant you the peace you so desperately long for, stringing you along like a puppet. Do you honestly think your death will solve all your problems? Knowing your god, they’d probably spite you back to life in the form of a ghost for a laugh, wouldn’t that be ironic? I suppose nobody else would care about your death considering your track record for violence, but what of your No-so-apparent companion here? Wouldn’t they mourn you, at the very least? Judging from your charming nature, probably not! Good luck on your fools’ errand. - Yako

Silas's ears flattened as he backed away from Yako, for the first time it seemed he was fearful of someone. Though you couldn't place why... But, Silas knew, he knew exactly why, it was that damn mask, the posture, the aura, the way their tail seemed to become a wisp. It was like looking at a ghost. Once he realized why Yako scared him Silas couldn't do much but freeze in place and squeeze his eyes shut, hoping they would just leave. His fear response became painfully apparent as the moments passed. All he could muster up was a feeble anxious whimper, maybe that would magically make them spare him from the incoming verbal assault. Then they spoke. It sounded just like her. In his terror it WAS her.

Seance's tone was mocking, something Silas was guilty of doing... or maybe he was just copying her the whole time. Even so, she just quietly hummed in thought, looking over him as she ever so slightly inched closer and closer.

"Even after all these years, you're still chasing after her love? Desperately hoping one day she'll forgive you for all the pain you caused her?" Though Seance's voice was soft, her words were not. "I told you, She doesn't love you and she never will. Why can't you get that through your head?" She paused, giving her words a moment to sink in before she spoke up again. "Silas." She sounded upset. "What did I tell you about not looking at me while I'm talking to you?" He cringed at that but didn't reply.

When he didn't do what she said, she just gave a soft, "Tsk." Well, He always was a coward, of course he didn't have the guts to even look at her. She gently brushed a claw over his face before finally letting go with an annoyed sigh. Despite Seance's words, Yako's voice was still loud and clear, mocking him along with her. Her voice seemed to compliment theirs perfectly.

Seance quickly broke into laughter at the thought of that herself.

"Isn't that right, Little fox?" Truth always hurt. Silas couldn't deny it, Yako was right. Seance was right, every word every insult was right. When tears finally began to well up and Seance's voice faded, Silas found the courage to speak. His voice was soft and faint. A mere whisper compared to the onslaught of words from Yako. "Please..."

Silas's words obviously went unheard. His claws just dug further into his skin, blood beginning to trail down his arm, the moment it finally seemed like Yako was going to stop talking, Silas broke from his fearful trance. In one quick sweeping motion, Silas threw out a Night Slash.

"JUST SHUT UP ALREADY." He shouted. "You have NO right to TALK DOWN to me like I'm beneath you! I AM NOT BENEATH YOU." He sounded unsure. "You don't know who the fuck I am, and I don't think you want to find out. So, Shut the fuck up or I'll make you! I have no fucking problem with killing you right here. Unless you want to be gutted I suggest you FUCK OFF." Silas lowly growled, his teeth bared, a blatant attempt at aggression, though his behaviour portrayed more fear than anything. Yako obviously touched a nerve with his words.

He didn't care. Finally, after everything the tears began to flow, all he could do was sniff and wipe them away. "...Fucking pathetic." He grumbled, his words seemed to be addressed to Yako but it quickly became clear it was for himself.

→ Yako has been added to the relationships page. → Seance has been added to the characters page. → Silas is now injured and will stay that way until he addresses it.

[ Ask from @askoinari ]

[captainfightingflower]

Dodo Re Mi’s entire presentation just looks like a mobile game that forces an unhealthy amount of microtransactions on you.