#this is why i hate tower defense games
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tomatoteddy · 1 year ago
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I have been playing Chpt 3 of Flavour Frenzy for almost thirty minutes and if I have to die yet again I might commit a robbery
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cottonlemonade · 7 months ago
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Hello again it's me. I may I please have a menu B with strawberry milk and purin and I'll sit next to Ren Oomimi please
The Wrath Of Oomimi Ren
word count: 818 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.
pairing: Oomimi x chubby!Reader (feat. Atsumu)
genre: fluff
warnings: none
request: fluffy jealous upperclassman Oomimi, as manager
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It was never a good sign to see the twins huddled together with Suna in an obviously plotting manner. Whispers and giggles, a short screech of approval here or there - it was all rather disconcerting.
Oomimi frowned and went back to his conversation with the other two third years. However, he didn’t let the chaotic trio out of his sight. Kita wasn‘t here yet, being stuck in a meeting of the class presidents, so it fell upon him, Michinari and Aran to keep the younger members of the team in check until the training began (certainly a three person job). The gym door opened and their trainer along with their manager came in, the cute kohai holding a water carrier in each hand. Almost automatically he made a move to hurry over and take them off your hands but one side glance towards the menaces from year two stopped him in his tracks. He had already been too obvious about his crush on their curvy manager, having gushed about you one too many times to his classmates in the locker room. Even though, “gushed“ might have been the wrong word. He talked about you. Too often.
Thinking out loud if the team should invite you along for an after training snack run to the nearby convenience store or wondering if you‘d maybe be interested in joining them for a (not really) friendly game of Mario Kart that weekend. Or invite you to a movie with them. Or suggesting to have you join their study group. Or sit with them at lunch. Or if they should bring you a bun when they went by a bakery on their way to school.
Everyone knew about his crush, even the trainer. Except, of course, you.
To you, Oomimi was a thoughtful, albeit quiet player who was an important component to Inarizaki‘s defense along with Suna. To you, he was simply being polite and tried to include you as often as possible. And, to be honest, he was the reason why you joined the team as the manager.
Whenever you called for the team’s attention for the coach, Oomimi was the first to come running but always stopped himself a few meters before reaching you, slowing his steps and suddenly becoming very interested in retying his shoes or straightening his jersey as to not make it seem like he was too eager to get to you. He knew he had an intimidating aura and the last thing he wanted was to scare you by towering over you.
And today was no exception.
Once Kita arrived the team gathered in a half circle around you and the trainer - Oomimi stole glances at you throughout the coach’s game plan. When it was time for the warm up drills, he paused in his movements when he saw that instead of dispersing like the rest of the team, the chaotic trio stayed behind to talk to you while Coach Kurosu went outside to take a phone call.
“How about it, y/n-chan?”, he heard Atsumu say loudly, “This friday night. We can go to the arcade or see a movie.“ The setter shuddered, feeling a sudden icy chill on the back of his neck but soldiered on, “Why aren’t ya sayin’ anythin’? Don’t wanna go on a date with me?”
He was sure when he turned around he would come face to face with Kita but instead he stared at the chest of the middle blocker, slowly raising terrified eyes to look at him.
“H-hey, Oomimi-san.”, he stuttered, “I was just askin’ our manager to go out with me.”
“I know, the whole gym could hear ya.”, Oomimi replied calmly.
“O-okay then. Uhm… would ya give us a bit of space so she can answer me?”
Oomimi looked at you - your face telling a detailed story of confusion and reluctance.
“No.”, he said, glaring down at Atsumu.
“And why is that?”, Atsumu asked, hoping his knees wouldn’t give out. He hated Osamu and Suna for this. Sure, the sacrifice for their cause was chosen via rock, paper, scissors but now that The Wrath of Oomimi Ren™ was upon him, he really badly wanted to reconsider, even if that would give his friends the right to his lunch desserts for the next month.
“Well…” Oomimi hadn’t thought that far. “Because…-“
“Because I’d actually much rather go out with Oomimi-san.”, you said, cheeks as red as tomatoes, “Sorry, Tsumu. You’re … okay and all but I’m not interested.”
Osamu and Suna doubled over with laughter - the latter still holding up his phone to capture the moment for all eternity.
Atsumu would have been extremely offended if he wasn’t so relieved that the giant third year was too distracted by your confession to hurt him and grabbing his brother and friend by the sleeves dragged them off to leave you and Oomimi to blush at each other in private.
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a/n: thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoyed it ^^ 🌟
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cerastes · 1 year ago
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I genuinely don't get how people are seriously trying to convince others to play blue archive when the game is just production through the roof but story and gameplay are just schoolgirls and guns. One of my friends got convinced to play that over arknights and idk how he fell for it.
I get wanting to make a point like this but... You more or less answered your own question.
"The game is just production through the roof" that's more than enough of a selling point. "story and gameplay are just schoolgirls and guns" schoolgirls and guns are famously good at being selling points.
"One of my friends got convinced to play that over arknights and idk how he fell for it" he wanted schoolgirls and guns with good production values and light, casual gameplay as a wrapper instead of tower defense.
Look, I get what you are saying. I'm a huge Arknights fan. Blue Archive doesn't even make a blip in my Give-A-Fuck Radar. I still think it's not hard to see why BA could get players. I really advise against this covert kind of grandstanding, because anon, forgive me, but that's what this is, and if it's not, then that's what it is coming across as. The moment you start going Our Noble Piece of Art vs Their Barbarous Cum Game, you start becoming someone that doesn't get invited to the cook-out. Especially expressing this anonymously through someone else's public podium, not even appending your name to it. It's a bad look.
Can a conversation be had about the caliber of a person or the morality of someone because they like the sexualized schoolgirl game? Yeah absolutely that's a conversation that can be had. But then you have to be fully transparent if you want to be taken seriously, and not anonymous. Whenever this comes up, I remind people to look at Shamare's base art in Arknights, or Suzuran's existence and more than just slightly disgusting "Suzuran is our light" stuff. Like, yeah, different levels altogether, but you still need to stay grounded about these things. At least that's how I think about it. You have to be the biggest critic of the things you love, and understand that you can criticize things you love without stopping to love them. Likewise, you can hate things (by god, please hate things, you'll feel so much better), but you have to reign that in with some logical, good faith thinking and never go full on Knights Templar because then you don't get invited to the cook-out.
And also don't do this anonymously in my inbox, I am not your mouthpiece nor am I happy to be a pond upon where people try to fish approval from.
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zephyrins · 5 months ago
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time has passed but I'm still so pissed off about the final battle...
at this point, I have no objections against Miquella being manipulative and using his charms as his main weapon. We had enough hints of his true nature in the game. We fooled ourselves into thinking that Miquella was absolutely good, so misjudging him is our own fault.
But Radahn? gods I hate it. Just... just why??? I'm not complaining about how difficult he is or something. But why him? Why couldn't we fight Miquella alone? I know, I know — he's bodiless, but I have so many ideas!
Why not destroy the gates to defeat him? Why not make him bound to the gates, or his ascension to godhood unfinished? We would still need to dodge his attacks and break through his charms but at the same time smash the gates, like playing reverse tower defense. Isn't it in our interest not only to defeat Miquella but also to prevent anyone else from reaching godhood?
Maybe we could have some special weapon to do that, like Serpent-Hunter against Rykard
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nomie-11 · 2 months ago
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Chapter 25 - When Death Waits Just Beyond The Horizon
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It’s more than tense as the eleven of them walk beneath the open portcullis and into the outpost. It’s empty and the atmosphere is off, off beyond the fact that Genevieve walks a solid ten paces to the right of the rest of the group, her hand protectively clamped around Violet’s wrist as if one of them will snatch her out from behind her and drag her down to lying, venin hell. 
“What the hell?” Garrick strides across the courtyard in the center of the structure, looking along the gathering spaces that should line the interior just like they did in Montserrat. 
“Stop,” Xaden orders, and Genevieve pauses with the rest of the group, her eyes still narrowed. “There’s no one here. Divide and search.” He glances over at Genevieve. “You don’t leave my side. I don’t think this is a War Game.”
There’s no point in arguing, the whip of the wind through the open gates does nothing to quell the anxiety in Genevieve’s throat. The only sounds in a fortress that should house more than two hundred soldiers are the footsteps they fell on rocky ground—and Xaden’s right. It feels off. 
“She stays with me.” There’s a finality in Genevieve’s tone that he’s never heard before as the rest of the squad—minus Liam, who has become Genevieve’s shadow once more—split into groups of two or three, climbing various staircases. Xaden nods, not bothering to argue. 
“This way,” Xaden says, beelining for the southeast tower. They climb and climb until they’ve finally reached the top of the fourth floor, where the door leads them to an open-air observation point that overlooks the valley below, including the Poromish trading post. 
“This is one of the most strategic garrisons we man,” Violet says, looking for any sight of the infantry and riders who should be here. “There’s no way they’d abandon it for War Games.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” Xaden looks out over the valley, then narrows his eyes on the trading post a thousand feet below. “Liam.” 
“On it.” Liam moves forward, leaning on the stone battlements as he focuses on the structures in the distance beneath them. The trading post is just a few roofs hiding several buildings that just poke out above the circular stone wall of its defenses, a drift of gryphons and their fliers approaching from the south. 
Xaden turns his eyes to Violet, and the look in his eyes is anything but welcoming. “What did Aetos say to you before we left? After Gen- Genevieve decided you would be coming.” 
She blinks trying to remember. “He said something like…” She searches her memory. “I’ll miss you, Violet.” 
His body goes tense. “And he said Genevieve was going to get you killed.” 
“Yes, but he always says that.” She shrugs. “What would Dain have to do with emptying an entire outpost?” 
“I have something!” Garrick calls from the southeast tower, holding what looks to be an envelope as he and Imogen cross the thick rampart, coming in their direction.
“Did you tell him about my trips here?” Xaden’s attention is back on Genevieve. She rolls her eyes, placing a hand on her hip. 
“I told you already, I can keep a secret when I’m trusted with it,” She drawls, her tone venomous. “And besides, I hate the guy. Why would I ever tell him?” 
He draws back, his gaze shifting left and right as he thinks before settling on Violet again and widening. “Violet,” he says, his voice low. “Did Aetos touch you after Liam told you about Athebyne?”
So Violet did know. Violet knew about the weapons and Violet knew about the supply runs. 
“What?” Her brows furrow, and she shoves an errant strand of hair out of her face as the wind swirls around us. 
“Did he touch you?” He asks one more time, leaving no room for lying or hiding anything. 
“Yes, but I would know if he read my memories,” She sputters. “He would never…”
“No, Violet, you wouldn’t,” Xaden’s face falls, and his words hold a resignation that hurts what’s left of Genevieve’s shattered heart. 
Genevieve holds Violet’s hand tight, her thumb running over Violet’s knuckles, her shoulders thick with tension as she stands silently, watching. 
“It’s addressed to you,” Garrick says, handing the envelope. Xaden drops back and breaks the seal. Genevieve can see the handwriting as he opens the missing. 
War Games for Xaden Riorson, Wingleader of Fourth Wing. 
Genevieve recognizes the handwriting. How could she not, that handwriting was on the report of Quinn’s death. The only handwriting on the report besides General Sorrengail. “That’s from Colonel Aetos.” 
“What does it say?” Garrick asks, folding his arms over his chest. “What’s our assignment?” 
“Guys, I see something just past the trading post,” Liam says from the battlement. “Oh shit.”
Xaden’s face drains of all color, and he crumples the missive in his fist before looking at Genevieve. “It says you failed your mission,” he pauses, then turning to the rest of the squad. “And our mission now is to survive if we can.” 
Genevieve’s stomach twists as Xaden’s words hit her like a punch. You failed your mission. It was as if every moment she spent bearing the secrets was finally crashing down on her all at once. It was her mission to report what was going on in Athebyne, the supply runs, the weapon drops. And Violet had unknowingly told Dain, which in return told Colonel Aetos and General Sorrengail that Genevieve was double-crossing them. 
Xaden and his squad may be being sent to their death, but she’s being executed too, all because the leadership knew Xaden would rather die than leave her behind and not have her in his squad. Now, staring at the crumpled letter in Xaden’s hand, Genevieve realized the magnitude of her failure. 
She hadn’t reported a single thing, and never spoke a single word of what was going on underneath their noses. Hadn’t returned the favor of information for her freedom. 
“That’s not…” Garrick shakes his head. 
“Guys, this is bad,” Liam shouts, and Imogen races to his side. 
“This isn’t your fault,” Xaden says, and Genevieve can’t tell if he’s assuring Violet or reminding Geneiveve, and then he rips his gaze from hers and turns to his friends, who are running down the ramparts to join them. “We’ve been sent here to die.” 
Xaden hands Garrick the missive, and the rest of them rush to the battlements to see what they’re up against, but Genevieve can’t spot any threat in the valley below or in the plains that stretch beyond for miles before the Cliffs of Dralor. 
“Something is off,” Tairn says. “I felt it at the lake, but it’s stronger here.” 
“Can you pinpoint what it is?” Panic has already flooded through Genevieve’s entire body. If Dain’s dad knows Xaden and the others have been supplying weapons to the gryphon fliers, there’s every chance this is their execution, too. 
“It’s coming from the valley below.” 
“I can’t see shit down there” Bodhi says, leaning over the edge of the masonry. 
“Well, I can,” Liam replies, “and if those are what I think they are, we’re fucked.” 
“Don’t tell me what you think they are—tell me what you’re sure of,” Xaden orders. 
“The letter says this is a test of your command,” the section leader reads behind them. “You have the choice of abandoning the village of our enemy or abandoning command of your wing.” 
“What the hell does that mean?” Bodhi reaches back and takes the letter. 
“They’re testing our loyalty without saying it.” Xaden folds his arms over his chest, going to stand beside Genevieve who immediately moves backwards, taking Violet with her. “According to the missive, if we leave now, we’ll make it to the new location of headquarters for Fourth Wing at Eltuval in time to carry out our orders for War Games, but if we leave, the trading post of Resson and its occupants will be destroyed.” 
“By what?” Violet asks. 
“Venin.” Liam responds. 
“You’re positive?” Xaden asks. 
Liam nods. “As sure as I can be without having actually seen them before. Four of them. Purple robes. Distended red veins spidering all around bright red eyes. Creepy as shit.” 
“Sounds about right.” Xaden’s weight shifts. 
“I liked it better when we just delivered the weapons,” Bodhi mutters. 
“Oh, and one guy with a giant-ass staff,” Liam continues. “And I swear to Dunne, one second the plain was clear and the next they were just… there, walking toward the gates.” His eyes are wide, his pupils blown as he uses his signet to see the bottom of the valley. 
“Red veins?” Imogen asks. 
“Because magic corrupts their blood as they lose their souls,” Violet murmurs, looking at Genevieve, wondering if she remembers what that book on the first Life Weaver had said. “Nature likes everything in balance. It’s why Genevieve has such big drawbacks.” 
Every head turns in her way, except for Liam, who is too focused on the ground below. 
“If the fables and books are true, at least.” 
“Seven gryphons have landed next to us,” Tairn tells Genevieve, and everyone else stiffens, no doubt receiving the same message from their dragons. 
“The guy with the staff just—“ Liam starts. 
An explosion sounds, echoing up the sparsely treed valley, followed by a plume of blue smoke. 
“Those were the gates.” 
“How many people live in Resson?” Bodhi asks. 
“More than three hundred,” Imogen answers as another boom cracks through the valley. “That’s the post they do the yearly trades at.”
“Then let's get down there.” Genevieve says and turns, but Xaden steps back, blocking her path with an arm outstretched. “Are you seriously stopping me?” 
“We have no idea what we’re walking into.” Xaden’s voice is the same as the first day after Parapet. He’s commanding right now. 
“Genevieve’s right. You're saying we should just stand here while civilians die?” Bodhi questions, and everyone tenses. 
“That’s not what I’m saying.” Xaden shakes his head. He has to choose. That’s what the missive said. He can abandon that village or his command. “This isn’t a fucking training exercise, Bodhi. Some—if not all—of us are going to die if we go down there. If we’d been assigned to an active wing, there would be far older, more experienced leadership making this decision, but there aren’t. If we weren’t marked with rebellion relics, if we hadn’t been aiding the enemy,” his gaze darts briefly to Genevieve’s. “We wouldn’t even be here with this choice. So, all command structure aside, what are your thoughts?” 
“We have the numbers,” Soleil says, narrowing her brown eyes on the field and tapping her bright green nails rhythmically on the stone of the battlement. “And air superiority.” 
“There are four venin and eleven of us,” Garrick says, walking away from the edge of the battlement. 
“And the book on Life Weaving mentioned that nothing can survive the pull of a Life Weaver, so neither can venin. They’re still alive.” Violet points out. “At least there aren’t any wyvern.”
“Uh. What?” Bodhi’s eyebrows rise. 
“Wyvern. Fables say venin created them to compete with dragons and, instead of channeling from them, they channel power into them.” Violet explains, hoping that the fables were wrong and wyvern don’t actually exist. 
“Yeah, let’s not borrow trouble,” Xaden says, shooting a sideways look at Violet. “And let's not bank all of our man-power on Genevieve either. We haven’t tested how many lives she can take before it overwhelms her.” 
“We have the weapons to kill them,” Liam says, turning his back on the valley. “And Deigh told me seven gryphon fliers—”
“We’re here,” the older brunette from the lake says, striding down the battlement from the southeast corner. “I left the rest of the drift outpost once we noticed your outpost seemed to be abandoned.” She glances over at the rampart at the clouds of smoke rising from the valley beneath with a look of resignation, her shoulders dipping. “I’m not going to ask you to fight with us.” 
“You’re not?” Garrick asks with a raised eyebrow, and Genevieve can no longer remember which of the three of them—Xaden, Garrick, and Bodhi—are actually related. They all have the exact same mannerisms. It’s almost creepy. 
“No.” She gives him a sad smile. “For of them is a death sentence, even with a Life Weaver. The rest of my drift is making peace with our gods.” She turns toward Xaden. “I came to tell you to leave. You have no clue what they’re capable of wielding. It only took two of them to bring down an entire city last month. Two of them. We lost two drifts trying to stop them. If they’re four down there…” she shakes her head. “They’re after something, and they’re going to kill every single person in Resson to get it. Take your riot and go home while you can.” 
Genevieve’s heart squeezes in fear, but she knows at her core there is no way she is leaving. It goes against everything she stands for. These are innocent people, defenseless, oblivious to what is coming for them. 
“We have dragons,” Imogen says, her pitch rising. “Surely that has to count for something. We’re not afraid to fight.” 
“Are you afraid to die? Have any of you seen combat?” the brunette’s gaze sweeps over them, and suddenly Genevieve feels young as they reply with their silence. Only Xaden and Garrick have seen combat. “Thought not. Your dragons do count for something. They can fly you far and fast. Dragon fire won’t kill them. Only the daggers you’ve been bringing, and we have those.” She looks at Xaden. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. You’ve kept us alive these last couple of years and given us a fighting chance.” Her gaze shifts to Genevieve. “And I’m truly sorry about the death of Quinn, she was a formidable ally.” 
Genevieve cannot bear to look the woman in the eye. She just learned how Quinn died. For all she knows, this older brunette may have known her sister better than she ever did. 
“You’re going down there to die,” Xaden states. 
“Yes,” she nods as another explosion goes off in the distance. “Get your riot out of here. Fast.” Pivoting on her heel, she strides back down the rampart, her head held high as she descends the tower and disappears into the distance. 
Xaden’s jaw clenches, and Genevieve can feel an unbearable heaviness settle in her stomach. 
If they leave, they’ll all die. Every civilian, every flier. She wouldn’t have been guilty in their deaths, but she’ll be complicit all the same. She has the power once more. She could give these people a fighting chance at seeing tomorrow. 
If she fights, she’ll likely die with them. 
But she cannot back down. In no world would Genevieve Hale live as a coward rather than dying a fighter. 
Xaden’s shoulders straighten, and the rock in Genevieve’s stomach turns into cold, hard determination. He’s made a decision. She can see it in the lines of his face. But even if he says they’re turning back she will not leave. She will stay and fight. 
“Sgaeyl says she has never run from a fight, and today will not be the first. And I’m not going to stand by while innocent people are dying, either.” He shakes his head. “But I’m not going to order any of you to join me. I’m responsible for all of you. None of you crossed that Parapet because you wanted to. None of you. You crossed it because I made a deal. I’m the one who forced you into the quadrant, so I won’t think less of anyone who wants to fly for Eltuval instead. Make your choice.” He tears a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you in harm's way.” 
In a perfect world, that would be everything Genevieve needed to hear. But she’s too stubborn for her own good. “If the others get to make a choice, then so do I.” 
His jaw flexes. 
“We’re riders,” Imogen says as another explosion sounds. “We defend the defenseless, that's what we do.” 
“You saved every single one of us here, cousin,” Bodhi says. “And we’re thankful. Now, I’d like to do what we’ve trained for, and if it means I don’t go home, then I guess my soul will be commended to Malek. I wouldn’t mind seeing my mother anyway.” 
“I’ll tell you the same thing I did after War Games our first year when we decided to start smuggling out,” Garrick says. “You kept us alive all these years; we get to decide how we die. I’m with you.” 
“Exactly!” Soleil says, drumming her fingertips just above the dagger sheathed at her thigh. “I’m in.” 
Liam steps forward so he stands at Violet’s side once more. “We watched as our parents were executed because they had the courage to do the right thing. I’d like to think my death would be just as honorable.” “Agreed.” Imogen nods. 
They all do. One by one, everyone agrees, until there’s just Genevieve and Violet. Xaden captures the Sorrengail’s gaze first.
“I’ve been defenseless,” She tells him, lifting her chin. “And now I’m a rider. Rider’s fight.” 
He nods, and then his eyes lock with Genevieve’s, pleading for her to run, pleading for her to back away and never return, fly to safety and away from this place where he saw a mirror image of this exact girl die not even two years prior. 
Genevieve’s voice is steady, but her heart pounds in her chest as Xaden stares at her, pleading with his eyes, begging her to turn back, to leave the death that waits below. His expression hardens, a muscle twitching in his jaw but he doesn’t speak. His silence is louder than the explosions echoing from the valley. 
“We’re born free,” she says, each word laced with defiance. “All of us.” she shakes her head, determination blazing in her eyes. “If you win, you live. If you lose, you die. But if you don’t fight—you never have a chance to win.” 
Xaden’s gaze darkens, the weight of a thousand unspoken fears hanging between them. He knows. He knows what awaits them down there. She can see it, he just told her—he’s seen this all before. The battlefield, the blood, the bodies. He’s seen people just like her die for causes just like this. And he’s not ready to watch it happen again. 
But Genevieve was raised to not back down. Not now. Not ever. 
“I will never back away from a fight,” she declares, her voice rising with a fierce finality that cuts through the air like a blade. “Not when innocent lives are at stake. Not when I can make a difference.”
The others shout in agreement. A thousand emotions cross his face, but Xaden only nods as he walks toward the battlements. “Liam. Give me a report.” 
His foster brother moves to his side, and focuses. “The fliers are engaged, all seven—six of them. Looks like they’re trying to draw fire away from the civilians, but damn, the Venin are wielding a kind of fire I’ve never seen among riders. Three surround the city and one is making his way toward a structure in the middle. A clock tower.” 
Xaden nods, then divides the eleven of them according to objectives. Garrick and Solene will do a perimeter sweep for reconnaissance while the rest of them target the Venin on various sides of Resson, keeping an eye on the advance on the clock tower as they near it on each pass through town. “The only way to take them out is by dagger.” Xaden states, finalizing their positions.
“That means we’ll have to dismount and fight once we get the townspeople to whatever safety we can find,” Garrick finishes, his face set in grim lines that make him look far older than he is. “Don’t throw your only weapons unless you’re certain of your aim.” 
Xaden nods. “Save as many people as you can. Let’s go.” 
They make their way down the steps and through the silent courtyard, Xaden leading the way. When they emerge from the outpost, their dragons wait, all perched on the edge of the ridge line, shifting their weight in agitation as they survey the trading post below. 
Genevieve walks to directly to Tairn, not glancing at Sgaeyl or her rider. 
“I knew that despite your anger at Xaden, you would make the right choice.” The blue dragon says, glancing towards where he approaches with Liam, their footsteps dangerously close to the cliff side. “He did, too. Even if you hate him, he doesn’t like you putting yourself in danger, but he knew you would.” 
“Well, he knows me a great deal better than I know him.” Genevieve lifts her brow at him. 
She blinks, tilting her head to the side. “You’re a far cry from the imprisoned child you once were. I approve.” 
“I wasn’t asking for your approval.” 
She chuffs, and nudges Tairn’s head with hers, but he’s solely focused on the trading post. The rocky terrain crunches under Violet’s boots, but every step of Genevieve’s is masked by the new growths of grass, a testament to the stress and anxiety that exudes from her body with every moment. 
A screech rends the air, and an enormous gray dragon emerges from the valley two ridge lines to the South across the Poromish. It tucks its… two legs under its massive body as it flies away from the group, heading straight for Resson. 
“Violet, that dragon…” Genevieve starts. 
“I know,” She whispers back. “I saw.” 
“Do we have a riot nearby?” Liam asks. 
“No,” Xaden answers. 
The dragon shrieks again, spewing a streak of blue fire down the mountainside, setting some of the smaller trees on fire before it reaches the plains of Resson. 
“Violet!” Genevieve says one more time, her voice rising in panic. That was not a dragon. 
“Wyvern.” Violet’s heart launches into her throat. “Xaden, it has two legs, not four. It’s not a dragon. It’s a wyvern.” 
Holy shit, Violet was right. This was what leadership has been redacting. This is what—
“Well, there went out our air superiority,” Imogen says across from them, and then shrugs. “Fuck ‘em. They can die, too.” 
“They have created abominations,” Tairn growls, a low rumbling in his chest. 
“Did you know about this too?” 
“I suspected. Why do you think I’ve been so hard on you during flight maneuvers?” 
“You and I are going to have a long chat on our communication skills if I survive this thing.” 
“Guess we know all the details now,” Liam says. 
“Anyone want to change their minds?” Xaden asks down the line, no one responds. “No? Then mount up.” 
Genevieve strides toward Tairn’s shoulder while Xaden approaches. 
“Turn around, Gen,” He orders, and she pivots looking up at him with indifference on her face. She looks like there was never anything between them, and this time it’s his heart who feels like it may be shattering in his chest. Not when she threatened to kill him, or said that she hated him, but now, knowing that in the face of death, she would rather keep her mask of emotions firmly planted than look at him with honest emotions. He unsheathes one of his daggers and slides it in the empty spot at her ribs. “Now you have two.”
“You’re not going to lecture me about staying close to Liam or staying safe in the outpost?” She asks, her emotions rioting at the look of hurt on his face. This was not his time to feel hurt. He was the one who lied. 
“If I asked you to stand behind, or hide behind Liam, you would put me six feet under.” His eyes bore into hers. “I try not to pick fights I know I can’t win.” 
Her eyes flare. “Speaking of knowing you’ll win fights, General Melgren will know what’s happened here. He’ll be able to see the outcome of the battle even now.” 
He shakes his head slowly, and points to his neck, to the rebellion relic snaking around his throat. “Just trust me—because of this, Melgren can’t see a fucking thing.”
Her lips part, and she remembers Melgren saying he liked to lay eyes on Xaden once a year. “Any other secrets you’ve been conveniently hiding from me?” 
“Yes.” He cups her neck and leans into her space, his mind racing at the fact that she hasn’t pulled away or punched him in the nuts yet. “Stay alive, and I promise I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
She clenches her fist, suppressing the fact that no matter how angry she is, she knows that if push comes to shove she will trade her life for his. “I need you to survive this so I can beat your ass when this is all over.”
“I can live with that.” A corner of his mouth lifts, but the humor doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The weight of the moment crushes any lightness he tries to force. Xaden’s hand lingers a second too long on her neck, as if he’s memorizing the feel of her skin, the pulse that quickens beneath his touch. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, are clouded with an emotion he refuses to name. 
Genevieve swallows hard, fighting the overwhelming urge to close the distance between them. But she can’t—she won’t. Not when he’s lied to her, deceived her, kept things from her when trust was the only thing keeping them from splintering completely. Yet here they are, moments away from charging into battle, side by side as they always are. As they always will be. 
Her face is unreadable, like one beneath the battle-weary surface, and it sends a painful twist through his chest. He wants to say something else—anything that will make her stay for just a moment longer. But the words sit heavy on his tongue, unmoving, just like her gaze that no longer meets his. 
Genevieve pulls away and turns back to Tairn, who rumbles low in his chest. His scales glint against the sky, and what seem like clouds roll in from the south, matching the turmoil swirling inside her. As she reaches for the pommel to mount Tairn, her hand shakes—just barely—but she forces herself to still. There is no time for second guessing, not with the wyvern shrieking and the venin purging the life around them. 
“Genevieve,” Xaden’s voice comes from behind her, rougher now, as if he’s barely holding something back. 
She pauses but doesn’t look at him. “What is it?” 
His silence stretches out long enough that she almost mounts Tairn just to escape it. But then he speaks, and the words he says feel like a dagger plunging into her chest, and twisting with each syllable. “I don’t need you to forgive me,” he says, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “But I need you to know that I never stopped caring about you. No matter how much you hate me, I never stopped.” 
Her breath hitches, and before she can stop herself, she blurts, “Then why did you do it, Xaden? Why keep things from me when you knew—” She bites her lip, stopping herself from saying too much. 
“When I knew you’d hate me for it?” he finishes for her, his voice thick with regret. “Because I didn’t want you to carry the weight of it. You carry enough. And because I’m a selfish bastard who couldn’t stand the thought of losing you completely. Even if it meant keeping you in the dark.” 
Genevieve’s chest tightens at his words, a mix of anger and sorrow swirling within her. She wants to scream at him, to hit him for being so infuriatingly noble and so devastatingly broken. But she can’t. Not now. Not with everything hanging by a thread. So instead, she just nods, her jaw clenched. 
For a split second, her hand tightens on Tairn’s back. Her pulse quickens, but she refuses to let him see that his words have any effect on her. Not when everything between them is broken, perhaps beyond repair. She takes a deep breath, her throat tightening. “That’s not what matters anymore, Xaden. You made your choice. Now you deal with the consequences.” 
His footsteps crunch closer. She can feel his presence, the warmth that he always radiates a comforting presence behind her, and for a fleeting moment, she wants to turn around, to let herself lean into the hurt and the love and the confusion that tangles between them. She wants to fall into his arms and let the sun warm her, and to feel like she’s the world in the center of his gravity. But that’s not who she is—not anymore. 
“I know,” he whispers. “But I couldn’t go into this battle without saying it.” 
She closes her eyes, fighting the sting behind her eyelids. He always knew exactly when to push, to dig under her skin and pry her emotions from the cold, dead hands of fear that fester in her chest. She wants to scream at him, to tell him that his feelings don’t matter when everything else is at stake. But her heart, traitorous as it is, doesn’t agree. 
After a long pause, she finally turns to face him, her mask cracking just enough to show the glimmer of pain she’s buried deep. Her voice is low, barely more than a warm breath on a cool winter day. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Xaden.” 
But Xaden can’t let her go like that—not without saying the one thing that’s been clawing at him ever since his entire world crumbled to ashes. He grabs her arm, and when her eyes meet his again, there’s a desperation hiding behind his deep, black eyes she’s never seen before. 
“Gen, if we don’t make it—” he starts, but she cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head. 
“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t you fucking dare.” her voice cracks, and she feels the hot sting of tears threatening to spill. She blinks them back furiously. “You don’t get to leave me. Not like this. Not without—”
Her words falter, and Xaden’s hand tightens on her arm. He pulls her close, so close that their foreheads nearly touch, and for a moment, the world around them fades—the wyverns, the dragons, the venin, the impending battle. It’s just them, standing on the edge of a cliff, with everything and nothing between them. 
“I love you, Genevieve,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the wind. “I’ve loved you for longer than I’ve had any right to. And I know I’ve messed up, I know I’ve hurt you time and time again, but if this is it—if this is the last chance I have to remind you, then I need you to remember that I do.” 
Her breath catches in her throat, and for a second, she can’t move, can’t think. She stares at him, wide-eyed, as his words sink in. They cut through every layer of her porcelain mask. 
And then, without thinking, without caring about the consequences, she surges forward, closing the space between them, her lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s as desperate as it is bittersweet. It’s a last goodbye, holding everything that neither of them want to say. A kiss that holds all the pain, all the anger, all the love they’ve been drowning in. 
As they pull apart, their foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling in the tense silence between them. 
“I hate you,” she whispers, but there’s no venom in the words. It’s a lie, and they both know it. 
“I know,” he replies, his lips brushing against her forehead. “I love you too.” 
The truth is written in the way his hand trembles against her skin, in the way his breath catches when she leans in just a little closer. The truth is in the silence that stretches between them, heavy with all the apologies the two of them are leaving unsaid. 
“You need to remember, to know, that even if we die today, you were always more than a soldier to me. More than just a spy.” 
Her throat tightens even more. Damn him. Damn him for doing this now, for making her feel when she needs to be numb. When she needs to be focused. “Stop.” her voice trembles, and she hates it. “Just stop. That kiss was a mistake.” 
“I can’t.” his voice is a broken whisper, and his eyes search hers as if he’s looking for something, anything, to hold onto. “I can’t stop.” 
Her breath catches. She feels the pull, the temptation to fall into him once more, to let herself believe in something other than duty and survival. But there’s a forest of lies and secrets between them, and her ax is dulled. 
“You should have thought of that before.” Her voice is cold, harsher than she intends, but it's the only line of defense she has left. “Before you kept things from me. Before you made choices for me.” 
His jaw clenches, and the hurt in his eyes intensifies, but he doesn’t argue. He knows she’s right. 
Another screech splits the sky, and they both turn to see the wyvern in the distance, circling closer now, its massive form blotting out the sun for a moment. The world snaps back into focus, the impending battle rushing in between them like a flood. 
She takes a step back, severing the threads that she left tying them together. “We have a fight to win, Riorson. Focus on that.” 
He nods, though his expression remains haunted. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “We do.” 
With one last glance, she turns and mounts Tairn, her body tense as she settles into the crook of his back. She can’t afford to look back. She can’t afford to care about the way Xaden still watches her as if she’s the only thing keeping her anchored to this world.
Tairn shifts beneath her, sensing her turmoil. “We are not at our best when distracted, little soldier. Please try to keep yourself alive.” 
“I’m trying,” she mutters under her breath, her gaze locked on the horizon where the dark shapes of wyverns begin to close in. The sky is painted in hues of gray, the dust and smoke from blue flames covering the glow of the sun, casting an eerie glow over the ridge. There’s a chill in the air, the kind that settles in your bones and doesn’t leave. 
And somewhere, just beyond the horizon, death is waiting.
--------
hey everyone! holy shit, what a long week (for me at least. what do you mean its wednesday, i need sleep.) My first quarter of the school year just ended and term grades are due friday so I am grinding to get everything done. omg.
so, what did we think about this chapter? Xaden and Genevieve having their moment, saying their last goodbyes? and what about Genevieve acting like how xaden was around violet in the original fourth wing and iron flame. girly will not allow violet out of her sight and I love that.
anyways, i've started writing the second book at this point, up to my own chapter three, which is about chapter 4~5 ish in iron flame, and I've started to write my own original story called Regalia Forge, so i'll keep you updated on that!
as always, if you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, or kudo, and I'll be back on saturday with chapter 26!
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Taglist: @awkardnerd , @hannraumari , @minjix , @glaciuswduo , @wolfbc97
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yanderes-galore · 1 year ago
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Hello Phanter, I hope you're doing well! 🙌
Would you mind writing a few headcanons for a Platonic!Yandere Marcoh and Pav with a rather weak Reader?
May you have a great holiday season!!<3
Sure! I made the separate as idk if you meant sharing or not. They're probably incompatible anyways now that I think about it.
Yandere! Platonic! Marcoh + Pavel with Weak! Darling
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Murder, Blood mention, Isolation, Fear of death, Forced companionship.
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Marcoh
Well, Marcoh stuck around Olivia because she was in a wheelchair.
If you were weak in battle then he'd certainly feel an urge to protect you.
Despite his reserved nature I feel Marcoh would be willing to protect you.
He's protected Olivia and Tanaka during the festival, he'd do the same with you.
Although, as this is yandere, he no doubt protects you more intensely.
You naturally end up gravitating towards Marcoh as he seems like the strongest fighter on the train.
Marcoh feels obligated to protect you because you admit you're a terrible fighter.
People like you wouldn't last long in a game of survival… so you need some help!
Marcoh sees you as either a sibling or friend.
He starts off really reserved but when you recruit him he quickly ends up becoming your bodyguard.
Marcoh towers over you due to his stature and it's like he has an intimidating aura.
Even though he hates his violent past and doesn't want to fight unless he has to….
Marcoh knows in a place like this you have to fight to survive.
Whenever you encounter corrupted townsfolk or creatures, Marcoh is quick to intervene.
Marcoh is strong, you can notice it in his hits.
Although it seems like he's trying harder for you as you can't hit as hard, even with your weapon (unless you have a firearm).
Marcoh mostly acts as a bodyguard, although there's times he breaks his stoic and reclusive behavior to care for you.
Marcoh is socially awkward so speaking is sometimes a struggle, yet he tries to get over it when speaking to you.
Marcoh is kind and friendly towards you.
He often asks how you're taking things and comforts you when you're scared.
If you're injured he tries his best to heal you, although he may also try to find help (Like from Daan).
With a weak darling he'd be extremely protective.
He rarely leaves you alone and is determined to have you both survive the horrors of this city.
Marcoh may also try to teach you basic self-defense due to the danger.
He'll try to be gentle as you're weaker than him.
In fact, Marcoh treats you like you may break any moment.
That's why he keeps staining his hands with more red for you.
As he grows attached and this twisted game continues, Marcoh finds himself wanting to treat you like a doll who may break.
Why should you go out there at all?
Maybe you should just stay back on the train… with him…
That way you two can be safe… after all… what's the worst that can happen?
“You'll be the safest here with me watching you… please don't fight me on this.”
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Pavel Yudin
Pavel is a man with a trigger finger
His reason for coming to Prehevil is due to his urge for revenge.
He wants The Kaiser dead for what happened to his home.
As a result, Pavel is often violent and willing to get rid of anyone in his way.
If he had felt something towards you, a weak soul sent to slaughter, he'd be ruthless.
Pavel isn't known for being caring.
He's sly and mischievous.
However, maybe he has a change of heart when you treat his wounds after encountering The Kaiser.
At first he brushes you off.
You're so weak yet you still risked your life to drag him back here to the train and treat him?
How idiotic…
….
On second thought… Maybe he can have you tag along.
You won't last long out here on your own.
You'll need a companion on your journey.
While Marcoh has some hesitance to kill, Pavel straight up doesn't.
If something threatens you he straight up shoots them in the face.
Contestant, monster, Kaiser… doesn't matter to him.
You've managed to worm your way into his mind and heart, so he'll protect you.
He sees you as some sort of comrade, one who gave him kindness.
Such a thing is a weakness… but to him, he sees it as a useful weakness.
He isn't very empathetic so he's more just like a cold bodyguard.
He doesn't mind the blood staining his clothes as he gets rid of foes.
Even covered in the stuff he still checks on you.
Pavel often comes to you for treatment, yet he'll treat you too.
He prefers just having to look after you.
He shows distaste in some of the other contestants around you.
You wonder just how long it'll take before he just decides to kill the others.
When it comes to you… he might actually do it.
Especially in a festival such as this.
You can just see it in his eyes…
You aren't sure if you're ready for when that time comes, either.
“Anyone touches you and they're dead, stay behind me. Don't cause me any problems.”
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skyloftsword · 1 year ago
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Understanding Tears of the Kingdom
I'm seeing a lot of hate being thrown at Tears of the Kingdom again that really just gets disproven by the game itself. Yes I know this is like my 400000th post defending the game but its fun. I have in game evidence so spoiler warning!
TotK is a SEQUEL! It is NOT an alternate timeline nor is it an alternate universe! People who say this stuff clearly did not pay attention to literally anything considering...
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As you can see, there is a lot of evidence that this game is connected to Breath of the Wild as a SEQUEL. Here's the biggest connection.
Breath of the Wild is summarized in its entirety! Symin even acknowledges the fact that Link already knows all of this because of his experience with the Calamity.
Now onto why Zelda was transported back in time. As we know, Zelda is a descendant of Rauru and Sonia (yes they have at least one child, they just aren't mentioned or brought up at all from what I have seen so far in my time with the game, nothing disproves them having a child however) so Sonia is where she got her time powers from. Now why did Zelda get sent back to that era specifically? Well its because that era was still in her mind. Link and her were just done looking at the murals from the past, not to mention the Demon King himself from that era was right there. So of course, all Zelda was thinking about was the ancient past of THIS Hyrule.
Moving on, the Sheikah tech excuse Aonuma/Fujibayashi stated in an interview is actually brought up within Breath of the Wild itself.
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This of course specifically referencing the Shrines/Towers, now what would excuse the Divine Beasts? Easy. They were breaking down at the end of Breath of the Wild, meaning they were getting ready to disappear alongside the rest of the Sheikah tech now that their roles were fulfilled as well as them being broken.
I have gone over the ending in SEVERAL posts so I'm going to keep this section brief. According to the Molduga geoglyph Tear, others can amplify a person's power by putting their hands out. Because of this, Rauru and Sonia amplified Link's Recall ability and not only brought back Zelda's mental and physical state to right before transformation, but they also brought Link's arm back from pre-Ganondorf attack and got Rauru his arm back from Link. This was only possible due to the amplified Recall.
Now, the Triforce is actually in game and the Secret Stones do NOT replace it. The Triforce is the source of Zelda's light powers just like how it was in Breath of the Wild.
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Its hard to see, but you can see it on her hand on the left. The Secret Stones themselves only AMPLIFY a person's powers (it also doesn't grant them sudden mastery of their powers). This is mentioned during the Mineru's Counsel Tear. So yeah, the Triforce is still very relevant and extremely important to the game.
So yeah, that's my millionth TotK defense post. Thanks for reading.
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spartanblacksmith · 7 months ago
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The Forges of Remnant
Chapter 1: A New Dawn
Rose Penthouse, Vale. 24th day, 3rd month of Year 5028.
The winds howl throughout the valley. The grass is growing, and the frost is melting.
Spring is coming, Weiss thought.
The warm air is chasing the cold in a wistful game of tag. The birds chirp their songs and glide on the currents, seeking their mate.
Wearing nothing but the blanket around her, Weiss observed the city of Vale from the balcony of her penthouse in the central, tallest skyscraper. The elegant yet simple structures. The hustle and bustle of the people down below. She could see the park from where she was, and it was filled with a few birthday parties and barbecues.
The sight of the city, and the 3 others sitting in line, covering the valley floor, filled Weiss with a familiar happiness. She loved the past 2 months of living in this location.
This cute little valley. It's so wonderful and serene. I could see raising my children here. I could take them to that peak to observe the stars. Teach them navigation by those bright lights in the sky.
And then a regretful sadness swarmed over her as her thoughts.
But I can't.
Soon, they’d have to abandon this peaceful place. Another peaceful, beautiful place, left to its fate.
She always hated to do so. To leave a city to burn. All 4 of them, the cities sitting right there in the valley. But she had to do it. They all had to. And as she looked back to Ruby and Penny, asleep in their bed, she understood why.
If they stayed for much longer, her wives would fight. Weiss knew this.
They would defend the Remnant tribe. For they loved the people in it. They cherish me as much as I adore them.
And if they fought, they would die.
For the Horde would not be denied, nor defeated. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.
For 5 thousand years, the Remnant Tribe have stayed ahead of the monstrous, mechanical Horde of the Grimm. Monstrous machines of war made to destroy civilization. All hope was lost when they attacked, for nothing was strong enough to stop them.
Lucky for the people of Remnant, her family's old construction equipment was still operational. And those old mechs were their salvation.
5 giant “Forge-Class” Construction Mechs. Crafted by Weiss's ancestor, Nicolas Schnee and Penny's father, Dr. Polendina, they were marvels of engineering in their time. The Forge was a gigantic white box with 4 folding legs, equipped with observation towers on top of it to see its progress, and a few defense towers, added on after their creation.
Although originally it was almost featureless, it was covered in scratches and graffiti after 5 thousand years of being around humans. But since the Forges had the ability to remove the graffiti, the people suspected they liked certain styles, and allowed them to stay.
The Forges walked in a herd, constructing whole cities for the remnants of civilization to live in. Vale, Vacuo, Atlas, Mistral, and Menagerie, named after the 5 kingdoms that were destroyed. they would walk in front of the following tribe of more than a million nomads, leading them like benevolent shepherds looking after their flock.
Gathering rocks and materials as they traveled, the Forge would construct whole buildings and streets inside them. And when it was safe enough, and at a good location, they would sit down, deposit their construct, and stand up. Boom, an entire city, ready to live in.
Even now, Weiss saw the four hulks resting on the horizon, sitting even bigger than the cities. Sleeping before they were to rise and travel again. Quietly receiving rocks and ore from the Miners guild, who looked to relieve the burden of material gathering from the Forges, even if it wasn't much, or necessary. A good hearted gesture if anything.
Yes, 4 Forges.
Atlas…
That was a story for another day.
Weiss walked inside and over to the bed. She sat down on it, next to her wife Penny. They saved Penny that day. Pulled her from her place in the control room, and fled the devastated Forge, along with the survivors.
Penny. If we were stronger, maybe…
Weiss pushes the hair from her lover's face. Penny is so peaceful when she sleeps. She is always adorable and sweet. Weiss felt her heart flutter every time she thought of her. She remembers the day she got her left eye’s scar in battle. The day Penny saved her and Ruby.
Ruby. Weiss looked at her cute dolt. Sleeping away her exhaustion from last night. Where Penny made her heart flutter, Ruby took her breath away. She was so strong, fearless, and quick witted. And her beauty grew every day. Ever since Weiss saw her in Silver Clans initiation ceremony, she knew they were destined to be together.
If only the younger me knew that she was half right, looking back to Penny.
How did I get so lucky? Two soulmates? Who both cherish me? It may be an effort to return their affections in a way they deserve, but it is always worth it.
Now, 7 years married, Weiss sits as head of the Remnant Council, with her wives supporting her all the way.
Ruby stirs a little, waking up. She rises to sit up on her arm. The covers almost slip away, as she catches them, holding them to her naked form. “Weiss, you're up early. You're never up before me. Is something wrong?”
Astute, as always.
“Yes. To be honest, I didn't sleep last night. I’ve been contemplating. Although Blake’s Shadow Clan says that the Horde is a month and a half away, I think we should pack up and go now, and not next week as we usually do.”
At Weiss's thoughts, Ruby simply waved them away. “Oh, you worry too much.” Ruby leaned over and cupped her wife's face. Weiss let herself lean into her touch. “They won't reach us ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
Weiss grabbed Ruby's hand. “That's what I'm afraid of, Petal. They're dangerous. They're constantly after us. There's the unpredictable Salem's Hand. I fear for you… for Remnant… for… I…”
Ruby gently pulled Weiss in, and kissed her.
Ruby, this is serious. I won't be swayed by… by… what was I thinking about? No, focus. Focus… Oh, whatever. I’ve got a hot woman kissing me.
Weiss reached behind Ruby's head, petting her short black and red hair, forgetting her troubles for a moment. She leaned into her petal's kiss, passionate and sweet.
They break the kiss, and Weiss blushes a little, staring into her lovers silver eyes. “Ruby.”
“I derail your train of thought?”
“You and Penny have that effect on me.”
“I'm glad we do, Cutie Weiss.” Penny?
Ruby and Weiss look down to Penny, who is awake now, having a gander at her wives tender moment.
“How long have you been up?” Weiss asks, pecking a kiss on Penny's cheek.
“Long enough. Your worries about our situation are noted, but unnecessary. The Horde is very far behind, and maintenance on the Forges are complete. My calculations show that we are safe for another week before we must pack and head for the Coastal Plains. And even with delays, we will be passing by several old abandoned settlements. With proper decoys, they will distract the Horde for a time as we progress further.”
“Ceil came back with the Pathfinder Clan yesterday?” Ruby asks as she scoots closer to Penny.
“Yes. She came in last night and reported it. I was going to tell you two, but the surprise you had for me… I was understandably distracted.” Penny says as she takes a second to remind herself of their night together.
Oh, definitely. Our 7th anniversary is no small occasion. For someone as old as Penny, it doesn't seem like much. So Ruby and I make sure to celebrate it… passionately, every time, to remind her that she is loved. Even if she's an android, she's still learning love like the rest of us.
“Yeah, that's on us. The Coastal Plains. That's next to Vale's ancient origin, right?” Ruby asked.
Weiss takes a moment to think, then responds “Yep. It's been a long time since the Tribe have been there.”
Penny points a finger up. “743 years, actually. It was a nice looking place originally, 4,849 years ago. ‘Twas sad I had to eat the remains and turn them into some new constructs. At least Vale has kept to the original designs all these years.”
Ruby wrapped her arms around Penny. “Aw, come here, sweetie. Even when you were a Forge, you were always gentle, weren't you?” Ruby nuzzled her head into Penny's chest.
Penny touched Ruby's arm gently. “I tried to be. The other Forges are so stoic. But they don't assure the people. They left that to the Schnee family. I always tried to be different. To be inspirational.”
True, but the Schnees couldn't hold a candle to your kindness.
Weiss crawled in next to Penny. “I remember. When I was younger, you would build whole parks for the young. Community centers and Opera Houses for the people. Unnecessary, but everyone loved you for that. You inspired the other 4 Forges to do more. That there was more to cities than just “Residential and Public Service” buildings.”
Penny blushes as Weiss holds her hand, saying her compliments. “To be fair, Mistral did the artsy thing first. Their buildings have always been nice looking.”
Ruby curled her finger in Penny's curly orange/red hair. “I loved when my mom brought me and Yang to Atlas to show us the graffiti you put on your own buildings. They were always so funny looking.”
Penny looked at both Ruby and Weiss with a bright smile on her face. “Thank you. I love you two for being so kind to me.”
If only there were words to express how much those words meant for us to you.
Weiss nuzzled her head into Penny's chest, bumping her nose against Ruby's.
Ruby smiled at her lovers and laughed. “We should probably get out of bed and start the day, or else we're gonna be late again.”
Both Weiss and Penny groaned in agony, being reminded of their duties.
Weiss had meetings all day regarding her Head Chieftain duties. She sometimes wished she didn't hold her 3 seats on the 15 seat Council.
Well, 2 and my sister's seat, Winter, commander of the warrior clans. She doesn't like politics, so she lets me use it. And I, very quickly, understood why in my career. People, especially stubborn, stupid people can be insufferable.
Penny, although she knew the Forges were in top shape, had all day, nay, all week to spend with the Engineer Clan with Yang's Ember Unit. She smashed it up, killing a Rogue Ursa with her Fire Clan 4 days ago.
Ruby had duties of her own. Her Silver Clan had patrols to do. They hadn't seen Beowolves for weeks, and that was a bad sign. They were gathering numbers for an attack, she often told Weiss. She was certain of it. They had to go hunting.
All three were reluctant to separate though.
“Five more minutes?”
“Five more minutes.”
“Yay, five more minutes.”
The three lay there, enjoying each other's company. Penny petted Weiss's head, running her fingers through her white hair. Weiss reached over to scratch Ruby's back. Ruby hugged Penny tight.
Oh, I could just lay here forever.
Simple, lovely, and blissful contentment in the arms of her lovers. What more could a woman ask for?
—----------------
Fields outside of ancient Mistral origin city. 24th day, 3rd month of Year 5028.
No one knows who or what made the Horde of Grimm. Some say it was a reckless pair of brothers, hell bent on world domination. Some say it was the Schnee Dust Company, a secret weapon development gone horribly wrong… or right if you believe the conspiracy theorists. Some say it was a mad scientist, a woman who despised the world and simply wanted it gone.
I know many people who believed it was the Schnee conspiracy. But after meeting Weiss, getting to know my sister-in-law, it's hard to believe now. Blake thought as she lay on the hill, observing the Horde.
From mysterious origins, these machines destroyed the kingdoms of old. They looked much like a Forge. Except for the 6 legs, gigantic hexagon shape, fully armed dozens of cannons, and the upper torso of a colossal, mechanical Leviathan sitting on top with long arms and razor sharp claws that tore through everything.
No one knew who was stupid enough to build them, then give them independence. But all had to flee from them. Their only solace was that the Leviathans were slow, and the Forges and the Remnant Tribe was faster than them.
Blake and Ren lay on the side of the hill, and spied on the distance with their scopes. Luck was on their side apparently. Blake knew how much Weiss was a worrywort, but now she had good news to give the Head Chieftain. The Leviathans were tearing apart some old ruins that used to be some cities the tribe had built a millennia prior.
Ren was taking notes on the number of Ursa there were and the 2 in development within Watts. “Didn't they destroy those before?”
Blake huffed some her hair out of her face. “They're mechs of destruction. They don't exactly have another purpose. They saw some structures standing, so they decided to crush it again. Not that complicated.”
“Well, I’m glad either way. Looks like they're taking their sweet time. Now I get 2 extra days to relax at home before I gotta pack up.”
“Don't you and Nora pack light? Everyone else does.” Blake adjusted her scope to take a look at Salem. Surrounded by her bodyguard Leviathans, as usual. She noted it down.
Salem was a paranoid War Forge. While there were 40 Leviathans in the Horde, there were four additional War Forges creating smaller Mechs to serve them. Their existence was a blight on life itself.
They were so nefarious, they had names so the warriors could remember them better. Tyrian, the "Ursa" Forge. Hazel, the "Nevermore" Forge. Watts, the "Repair Creep" Forge. And Salem, the Queen War Forge and "Beowolf" Forge. Each Factory had a bodyguard unit of 4 Leviathans and a swarm of smaller Mechs.
Ren kept taking notes, including one about the new Nevermore about to launch in a week's time from Hazel. “We do. But remember, she's got her Magnhild Unit. She can carry a lot more than other people. So she volunteers us to help others pack up and load up her unit with cargo. I know I got 8 families to load up once we get home, if she hasn't volunteered more.”
“Ah, right. Yang is the same way.” Blake takes a second to contemplate that. “Actually, all of the Fire Clan is like that. They use their mechs to help a lot of people travel.”
“Yep.” Ren says as he adjusts his scopes dials. “We love them for it though, don't we?”
A long sigh escaping Blake's mouth, she says “Yeah, we do.” Then a smile widens across her face at the thought of her wife.
Yang should be waking up by now. Her blanket falling away. I wonder if she slept in the… *sigh* Get your head out of the gutter, Blake. You can't always be thinking about your wife's voluptuous, beautiful… Hmm? Blake turned to Ren, who was quite silent.
“Ren? You alright?”
“Mmm.” Ren's face remains blank.
Blake took a guess as to what Ren was thinking of. “... Look, they can handle it, Ren.”
“I know. But... I wish those things would just give us a moment. There's so many already.”
Blake could see that Ren's face remained blank, but his hands were gripping his scope a little too hard.
She understood his anguish all too well. Nora received her scars in battle against the Ursa only last year. Ren was terrified all through the months it took for Nora to recover from her injuries. When he was home, he doted on her as much as he could. And Nora was returning to the Fire Clan next week.
Ren hated the Ursa.
Dreadful mech units that were quite large, the Ursa were the size of perhaps 3 skyscrapers side by side. They weren't the size of a Leviathan, who stood far taller and wider than a Forge, with worse weapons, but they were 3 times as fast as the Forges.
This meant they were able to catch up to the Tribe. And it was the Fire Clans duty to slay the Ursa when they threatened them.
And as Yang and Nora led the Fire Clan, Blake and Ren were seeing them often run off to battle, not knowing if they would return.
That fear was especially prevalent in Blake when she saw Yang’s Ember Unit being dragged in by two other Striker Units, smashed up and unresponsive. It took Penny and her crew 3 hours to cut Yang out of her cockpit, but by the gods luck, she was fine. Yang got the killing blow on the Ursa, but Blake wished she would be more careful.
It didn't help that she would have to report there were 5 Ursa now, with 2 on the way. More danger for them to face.
“Chief.” Blake turns around to see Illia call for her. “The Shadow Clan is ready to move out. Shall we head home?”
Behind the hill were 4 squads of 7, gathering, packing and loading equipment onto their Oobleck hover bikes. They were as fast as the professor who designed them.
They had been watching the Horde for 5 days now, keeping track of its progress. Now, it was time to head home. By the time they’re back, it'll be time for the tribe to set out again.
Blake thought it over. “Well, they're pretty busy. We'll head back, but keep the 9th squad out here to watch them, and we’ll come back after the tribe starts moving. Tell the 9th they can come back after 3 days and the 12th will relieve them.”
“Understood, Chief. Shall we?” Illia gestured to the speeders.
“Yes, but Illia, it's Blake. No need for formalities.”
“I… I know.” Illia turns away to talk to Squad 9 about their orders.
Ren gave Blake the side eye. “Still Chief?”
Blake flinched at that. Yeah. Still Chief. I’ll always be Chief to Illia.
“Old habits die hard, Ren.”
“It's been 10 years since the White Fang. Surely she can kick the habit?”
“It’s not easy to lose a quirk. You still have your quirks, ya know? And they've been around since Beacon.” Blake glanced over to Ren as he jumped a little.
“What quirks?”
“You still hold your cooking spoon out so Nora can lick it.”
“Only when I’m cooking for her and me.”
“And last time Yang and I had dinner at your place? You were cooking stew and Nora licked your spoon.”
“... I hoped you didn't notice that.”
“Well, I did.”
“Is there more?”
“Yes, but they're a secret. Nora told me.”
“Come on, tell me. What quirk?”
Blake laughed and shook her head and her cat ears flickered. “Well, we better get home. Yang has something planned for me when we get there.”
“Not gonna tell me, huh?” Ren and Blake walked over to where the hover speeder bikes were. “Nora's also got something planned, herself. Said she wanted to have a picnic under the stars and shattered moon.”
Blake hopped onto her speeder. “Nice. This region has a lot of constellations, if you're lucky enough to get a cloudless sky. Maybe if you pick the right spot, maybe you could see the Moon Goddess constellation.”
Ren didn't respond as Blake expected. He simply stood there, holding the handlebars of his speeder. Blake was about to say something, then she heard what had silenced him. A blood curdling scream.
*20 Minutes ago*
This is such a bad idea.
It will be fine, kid.
What do you mean it'll be fine!? We’re surrounded by the Horde! They're right over there by Vacuo, if you hadn't noticed!
Yes. That is a problem. But I doubt they'll find us here.
But they'll-
We’re deep in an abandoned Mistral settlement. On the 40th floor of a skyscraper that will hide our presence. There has been no sign that a human passed through here for nearly 500 years. Relax. They will pass, and we can continue on our way. We will find her.
Right… we will, right?
Yes. Jin is somewhere. We just need more information.
Well… okay, if you say-
*Clattering of metal nearby*
WHAT WAS THAT!?
Uh, I didn't think about scouts.
Why. Did. You. Not. THINK ABOUT SCOUTS!?
A Beowolf rounds the corner of the hallway. The kid blasts his shotgun towards the beast, and blows half his head off. It's not a killing blow, and the Beowolf howls and lunges. The kid shoots again, blowing the other half of the Beowolf's head off, but the beast succeeds in destroying his weapon with his claws. It falls to the ground, dead.
The kid, now defenseless, hears more howling.
Oh no.
RUN!
WHERE!?
The Shadow Clan. Find the Shadow Clan. They're always watching the Horde. They can get you out of here.
But where-
*A foot stomps a building nearby. A Leviathan has joined the chase for the kid.*
Move! They’ll find you, but there must be a “you” to find! Now Run!
*Present time*
Ren hopped onto his speeder. Blake yelled to the squad “Stay here.” Then both clan leaders moved their bikes up the hill again. They looked again in their scopes for what they could have missed. Then they saw it.
A boy excited the ruins of Mistral, running from the Horde, and he was being chased by a pack of Beowolves. He apparently was a stray nomad who was staying in the old city.
Blake started up her bike and zoomed towards the boy. Ren followed close behind.
It was a race to see who reached him first, for the Beowolf was not easily outdone. Standing at only 8 feet tall, small compared to its brethren, the Beowolf was the most loathed of all the enemy. For it was not only faster than a Forge, it was faster than most humans. And quite deadly.
Blake was racing as fast as she could. She could hear Ren preparing something behind her, but she had no time to look.
The boy was gasping for air, his legs doing all they could to outrun the beasts. When he saw the bikes coming towards him, hope filled him up again, and he got his second wind, sprinting harder.
The Pursuers and the Rescuers were converging in their own game of chicken. Would Blake have time to even get the boy before she was struck down?
She decided it was best to use it. She readied her missile pods. The bike was armed with two single use missile launchers, and Blake fires hers at the closest Beowolf. The first collides with his chest and staggers it. The second blew his head clean off.
Another two were on the verge of catching the boy.
Can't be stingy at a time like this. Blake readied her weapon, her sword from her time in the Silver Clan, and leaped from her bike.
As the bike slowed, she launched herself at one of the two Beowolf, converting her sword to a kusarigama, and wrapped her weapon around the Beowolf’s neck.
Blake landed next to the beast, and pulled the ribbon. Her sickle cut right through the beast's neck and lopped his head off, sending it dead to the ground.
Blake holstered her weapon and sprinted at the kid. Another Beowolf made a move, but Ren was quicker on the draw, firing his missile and hitting it square in the jaw. It fell to the ground right next to the kid and Blake. A second Beowolf received a missile to the leg, sending it sprawling to the ground.
She braked to a stop in front of the boy and grabbed him by the scruff of his jacket, not wasting time chatting. She hopped onto her bike and gave the boy to Ren.
Not wanting to overstay their unwelcoming party, the two of them sped away with their rescued straggler, easily outrunning their pursuers.
As was the way of the nomad.
The Shadow Clan joined up with them and they all flew down the fields towards home. They zoomed over hills and plains, heading back to Remnant.
Blake got on the radio “Squad 9, you know what to do. Since they're alerted, double the observation distance.”
She received acknowledgement from the Squad 9 lead, and the 7 scouts turned from the group and headed back to circle around the Horde.
Seeing the boy settle behind Ren, Blake realized that Weiss wouldn't get her good news this time. For she could hear the Leviathans stop their assault on the ruins and resume their march towards Remnant once more.
So they were after the straggler, not the ruins.
Blake simply shrugged her shoulders.
Oh well. It was but a day or 2 had they continued their destruction of the ruins. I'm glad we could save the straggler.
“Well, that could have been worse.” Blake glanced over at the kid. “Hey, kid. What's your name? And why are you out here?”
Blake could only hear mumbling come from the boy. Then again, they were moving at high speed, so that's understandable. She could see Ren use his semblance to calm the boy, and his trembling turned into a stillness. It was a moment before anything was said.
“Oscar.” Blake glanced at Ren as he said it. “He said his name is Oscar. And that he was on a mission for Ozma.”
“Who's Ozma?” Blake asked. Ren merely shrugged his shoulders.
Illia, who overheard, added in “Wasn't there an Oscar who went missing half a year ago from Mistral’s sector?”
Ren turned his head to listen again. “That's him.”
“I would still like to know. Why are you out here, running through ruins and evading the Horde?”
Ren listened again. “He said he's looking for Jin, the Librarian A.I., so he can give her to Qrow.”
Blake groaned internally.
Oh, of course this was Wanderer business.
But she didn't expect Qrow to send a boy out into the wild. Especially without a speeder.
Who even was this Jin? And Ozma?
Whatever the reason, she was sure delivering Oscar to his parents would cure him of his recklessness, and his business with the Wanderers would be finished. Hopefully. If he was crazy enough to come out here alone, who knows what he’d do.
Blake observed the oncoming change of scenery. Markings and signs could be seen.
Hmm, this is Ravens current stomping grounds. She better not try anything.
“Alright people, keep an eye out, we're heading into Bandit Territory. And we don't want no surprises.”
—-----------
Outside the Workshop of the Engineer Clan. 4th month, 1st day of Year 5028.
One Menagerie, Two Menagerie, Three Menagerie, Four Menagerie… ah forget it. Let's see if Penny needs help with Ember Celica.
Yang was restless. Blake was due back today and she couldn't wait to give her her present. But it was only 10 in the morning. So instead of waiting around, Yang tried to be productive.
But an hour later, standing outside the Engineer Clan’s Famous Workshop, Penny had turned her offer down. Yang wanted to work on her Ember Celica Unit, both to pass the time and make up for her mistake in her last battle. Make it up to the crew having to fix her unit.
But Penny and her crew just shooed her out of the Workshop, telling her not to worry. Yang and her Clan hunt and kill monsters, as well as protect the Tribe. Penny and her Clan make sure all of their equipment is in top shape. That's how they work together. Besides, the engineers preferred their quiet privacy anyway.
Although, as Yang turned and left, wishing them good luck. And as they resumed their work, a thought passed Yang's mind. With all that metal grinding and banging, how is that quiet?
So Yang decided to simply take her old school motorcycle, with actual wheels, through the streets of Vale to travel to the Shadow Clan headquarters in Menagerie.
Passing through the market and the warehouse district, Yang could see Vale as vibrant as ever. It was little wonder Ruby and her family decided to stay here. It was most like Atlas, so Weiss and Penny loved it. And they had the Engineers Workshop, and despite Penny saying they handled the equipment, she has no problem letting Ruby do her own weapon smithing.
Honestly, the two of them spoil Ruby. Well, that's not always a bad thing. Adorable, really.
It was also the home of the Silver Clan Headquarters, the Beowolf hunters. Ruby is the current leader of the Clan. Their mother used to be the leader of the clan too, so it holds great sentimental value to the sisters. Yang was passing the building complex, where memories bubbled up again.
Mom…
Yang held back tears as she rode on. The thought of Summer always had her on the verge.
Yang then reaches the city’s edge, and the paved road turns to dirt. Driving through the patch of land in between cities, she then entered Vacuo and its roughneck setting.
She knew they only looked rough on the outside. The inside was quite well designed and structured. The Vacuo Forge was meant for building cities in the desert, so they built on functionality foremost. But that didn't mean spartan living spaces. They had amenities just like the rest of the cities.
Yang spotted the Vital Coliseum on the edge of the city, though it wasn't hard to spot. This time around, it was in Vacuo.
The Vital Coliseum is switched around cities every cycle so no one feels left out of the festivities. A place for the warriors to test their mettle. But no deaths or maiming were allowed.
Yang winced at that thought. She was still banned for breaking Mercury's leg, who was also banned for illegal moves during the match. Moves that he had Emerald cover up with her illusions, that also got her banned. And we thought Penny had died that one time against Pyrrha, who Emerald was also affecting. Good thing her Forge could make another body for her, but Pyrrha was also banned. And the Nevermore attack that Ruby had to lead a counter charge against. And the Beowolf army that same Nevermore dropped on the Coliseum that everyone had to kill.
Man, the old days were rough.
Still, they exercise a lot of caution these days. So the games go on.
She took a detour to pass by her headquarters, the Fire Clan's Coliseum. Vacuo had an interesting time when it had to house 2 Coliseums, but they made due. As for the Fire Clan, Yang saw training was underway. 3 massive mechs were in the Coliseum, 2 veterans showing a recruit the ropes.
Good, good. The newbie’s getting her training in. She may even be ready for an engagement soon. And she can't do worse than Sage and Scarlet as mentors.
The Port Strikers. A tried and true mechanical weapon platform. Designed thousands of years ago by a veteran hunter, they have served as the frontline of the defense of Remnant. Bipedal and humanoid in nature, they could clobber an Ursa if utilized effectively. Standing almost 10 stories tall, they were equipped with weapons according to their pilots preferences.
Yang preferred the weapons she had back in the days she was in Silver Clan. Her Ember Celica gauntlets. Her Ember Unit was equipped with the oversized version, and she loved it.
Each Striker was also equipped with chest mounted missile launchers, dual knives for stabbing and climbing their massive foes, a jetpack, and grenades strapped to the waist like on a belt. There was also the option to mount a shoulder artillery cannon, but that tended to slow you down, so Yang didn't have one.
She left the area and her cohorts to their training.
Yang reached the other side of Vacuo and entered the space between it and Mistral. A very different look compared to its sister cities, Mistral was a fancy looking city. Ornate carvings and stone statues of creatures whose names were, unfortunately, lost to history. She passed the central park and saw the airships fly around. Mistral houses the best pilots in Remnant, so naturally it was the home of the Sky Clan, the Nevermore hunters. She passed by their airfield, filled with fighter and transport aircraft, and was once again leaving town.
Ah, home, sweet, home.
Menagerie. The majority of the Faunus in Remnant live here. Yang moved in with Blake right after their marriage. Since her father was the appointed Chieftain of the Faunus, his family was given the large Chieftains house the Menagerie Forge makes in every city. And he gave Blake and her wife, Yang, their own space in it.
She went by the house. Big and beautiful, her home was. Unfortunately, today the sight was depressing. Protesters were out front, calling for the current Chieftain of the Faunus to step down. They only come around once and a while when they feel like it, but they are persistent.
He held a council seat, and Ghirra was a great leader. The only reason for this ongoing protest, of 7 years now, was only because he was loosely related to Jacques Schnee through a chain of marriages and siblings.
First it was his daughter Weiss, who was married to Ruby and Penny. Then it was Ruby and Yang's sisterhood. Then it was her marriage to Blake. Then we get to Blake being the daughter of Ghirra. Convoluted and unnecessary.
Old grudges die hard, she supposed. Jacques was really hated during the years he and Ironwood were the heads of the council and commander of the clans.
He pushed the Faunus and those in the Miners Guild hard to meet their ridiculous quotas. So much so, they even fed the Forges more material than the Forges gathered themselves in those years for the first time in forever. Although the homes were free and food was shared by the gatherers and farmers, in Jacques’s head, the quicker cities were built meant more money when the shops stayed open longer.
But after the Atlas disaster, Ironwood killed Jacques and tried to lay all the blame on him. But he was banished for his actions, and for the destruction of a Forge. It was later revealed he had murdered a council member and Jacques in his madness, so now if he returns, it is to his death.
Back to the present, Yang shook her head at the current protesters.
Weiss was doing really well in her father's shoes. Remnant has been doing better than it's done before. She made sure everyone was treated fairly, and did her best to heal relations between the Humans and the Faunus. To lead with wisdom and justice. But some people are purely stubborn, and don't trust her.
Maybe it was the lies the White Fang were still spreading about her.
Absurd, really. And this development meant that Yang couldn't bring Blake home, otherwise she’d see this.
So, time for plan B. She sped away to the Shadow Clans Headquarters, at the far end of Menagerie. She arrived at the hanger bay holding all the hover bikes. Many of the clan warriors waved hello to her, knowing she was their leader's wife. Yang waved back, knowing they're a polite bunch.
Yang kicked the stand on her motorcycle, and leaned against it. She started waiting for Blake to arrive by the entrance, flipping through an old book she keeps in her motorcycle's side bag for such an occasion.
After a few minutes and getting bored with the book, she glanced down the valley the cities were sitting in.
A pretty sight, she thought. Tall mountain ranges on both sides with lush green grass waving through the middle. This world always has such beautiful scenery.
Just like Patch…
Yang and Ruby were born into the Vale sector, but their father, Tai, tried to raise Ruby and Yang in a little village away from Remnant called Patch with Ruby's mom, Summer. No running, no packing, no danger.
These villages are more common than one would think. With the Horde always after the Remnant Tribe, the villages were free to settle down in these out of the way communities. They could farm, craft, and take care of themselves quite easily.
Yang shook her head. It was a peaceful couple of years, Yang thought. Peaceful, but foolish of my parents to do so.
She knew Nora and Ren were born to a village themselves, and she knew the pain they went through. Just like her family.
The machines of war are always on the hunt, even for small little nothing villages. For they had found their little village with a stray Beowolf. A swarm of Beowolves, and an Ursa had been dispatched to kill them all.
Tai was pulling the cart with some of the wounded villagers, a young Yang and baby Ruby. That was when she saw her mother take her weapon, the one she had when she was the leader of the Silver Clan, and turn around. Tai and Yang called for Summer to not fight and run away.
Now that Yang thought about it, her mother had no other option. The monsters would have caught them all.
Summer leapt into action, unfurling her ax, splitting the helmet of the Beowolf pack leader, killing it, and then killing a quarter of his pack with massive shotgun blasts. She even managed to climb the Ursa, and break its eye. This made the hulk furious. Summer ran the other direction the villagers were going, to lead the monsters away.
Mom… Yang cried for her to come back. She cried and she cried, until she cried herself to sleep hours later.
Summer was never seen again.
A funeral was held, a memorial service. Her tombstone was placed onto a cliff somewhere and left behind. Then they all journeyed to rejoin Remnant. Their father was never the same, only a little better until maybe a few years ago.
Wiping a tear from her eye, Yang started thinking about the other things that happened in the past to cheer herself up.
She used to be in the Silver Clan with Ruby, Weiss, and Blake. Went to Beacon academy for warrior training and everything. They had a lot of misadventures during that time. The thought of it made her laugh.
There was the train station incident. A bit of a disaster against those bandits working for Torchwick. But at least it wasn't lived in. Well, other than bandits preying on the nearby village.
The temple ruin incident. Facing a Nevermore on foot? Something only my baby sister Ruby could do.
The bar incident. Okay, that was me. But Junior deserved it.
The battleship crash incident. Torchwick definitely regretted hijacking that one. Well, Neo gave us hell for years after his death before she retired. It did suck though, as it was the first battleship to work in 5,000 years.
The time Raven kidnapped Weiss for ransom, and team RBY and JNPR stealing a jet to rescue her. All with the help of the leader of the Sky Clan, Maria. And her Uncle Qrow's help with his knowledge of the wild, thanks to the Wanderers he leads.
Awkward, having to rescue your future sister in law from your biological mother, who happened to be the leader of a Bandit Clan. Her family tree was too complicated to give a lot of thought.
The time we burned down a bar, and that one was Ruby's fault. Okay, Ruby and my fault. But Junior still had it coming.
How they aren't banished is beyond her understanding.
The… Beacon incident. Yang touched her metallic arm. Not long before the destruction of Altas, was the attack of Beacon Academy. Some rebels known as the White Fang laid siege on the academy with some captured Beowolves. And it was there Blake's crazy ex stabbed her and sliced Yang's arm off. He slinked away with his followers, back into hiding.
Blake left the team and stayed with her family for a while, giving up the warrior life all together. Yang was laid up in recovery. Doctors say she couldn't be part of Silver Clan again, even with her new robot prosthetic arm. Major depression. She pushed away everyone who tried to help, even Ruby and Weiss. Eventually, with her father's help, Yang managed to get off the couch and get back into shape, though it wasn't easy.
Then Blake came back, her spirit renewed. She decided to join the Shadow Clan, do scouting instead. Yang joined the Fire Clan, for she was allowed to fight in it with her robot arm.
Things were looking up.
Then the Fall of Atlas happened. After that, Weiss had to leave Silver Clan and take her spot as Head Chieftain of the Council.
Then the White Fang attacked again, this time trying to cripple the Sky Clan in Mistral. Yang and Blake intercepted Adam, and after a difficult fight, killed him.
Ruby had to step up and take charge of the Silver Clan, without them. And she has. With Sun’s help, as well as Cinder, she's gotten the Clan in top shape.
And we get to now. A peaceful sunset on the horizon, as Yang waits for her beloved to show up, so she can take her on their date.
Not bad for a delinquent like me.
An hour passes, and Yang is dozing off on her bike when she hears a familiar sound.
Almost two dozen hover bikes appear on the horizon. The Shadow Clan runs out to meet their comrades.
Slowing to a stop, the dusty warriors get off their bikes to a warm welcome from their brethren. And Yang spots her. Taking off her helmet, Blake's hair catching the light. It just takes Yang's breath away every time.
She pushes her way through the crowd and scoops her wife into a bear hug, spinning her in joy. The crowd gives her some room, and Yang gives Blake a kiss as she set her back on the ground.
After Blake is able to collect herself, she smiles at her wife. “Yang, I'm glad to see you too.”
“Not too much trouble out there, is there?”
“Unfortunately, there's always trouble out there. And, we’ve even brought some back with us.” Blake looks back to Oscar, clinging to Ren, still not used to riding at high speeds for hours. After their week-long journey, he was ready to stay on solid ground.
“Straggler?”
“Yep.” Blake gestures to a squad leader named May. “Take Oscar inside and give him a warm bunk for the night. Tomorrow, we will look for his parents.”
“Aye, Ma’am” May gives a salute and guides Oscar to the barracks.
“So, do I get an explanation about him, or is it classified?” Yang says, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. The Clan had started to disperse back to their duties, taking the bikes inside for maintenance, the riders going inside for sleep and food.
“Nah. He was a straggler looking for something named Jin, the Librarian A.I. Said he was doing it for your uncle and a guy named Ozma.”
“Qrow? He doesn't do that. He’d at least send 3 hunters for something he wants, not one kid. I’ll see if I can get him on the horn tomorrow and ask what's up.”
Blake hugs her tall wife. “Thanks.”
Yang hugs her back. “Tomorrow. Tonight, I have something special planned.”
“Your wonderful home cooking, leading to a spicy night in bed together?” Blake said with a smirk.
Knowing that was plan A, now canceled, Yang responds with “No. Something else. Follow me to our steed, my lady.”
Getting on the bike, Blake holding onto Yang's waist, they speed away, the sunset on their backs.
—----------
Vacuo Forge mineral depository. 4th month, 1st day of Year 5028
The Miners Guild was vastly unnecessary, Grut thought, Stupid, stupid, stupid, these worms are. These people are pointlessly dumping materials into a divine machine that does it for them infinitely better than they can.
Grut was but a humble shark Faunas, meant for greater things he was, in his own opinion.
Grut was pushing a wheelbarrow full of rocks and ore so he could dump it into the Forges material receptacle. Knowing it was a drop in the bucket of the ocean of materials the godly giant gathers in merely a day.
But the silly miners thought they'd be nice to the machine god and gather some materials, and really contribute to the effort. If they weren't so quick to judge us for our worship, they would see they are no different.
Idiotic. What a load of rubbish, he thought. Ugh, why did Tyrian make me the spy?
Grut’s thoughts were often of ‘why couldn't Tyrian put me in the freaking office? Service? Even a craftsman. But no. I'm lugging rocks around all day, throwing out my back. This has better be for a good cause'.
His pager went off. The motion sensor at the end of the valley had been triggered. The Shadow Clan had returned.
He had reached the receptacle, and dumped his wheelbarrow into it. He had to hurry, else he missed them. He was walking back, and set his wheelbarrow down, saying to the others he was taking a break. They waved him away, and Grut went to the nearby hill. Behind the tree atop it, he readied himself.
He sat down on it and pulled out his binoculars and lunch. He started eating his sandwich, looking through the binoculars. A boring task, but it has to be done. His shark teeth took another bite into the meal as he scratched at his rough skin.
At least the view is nice and the food is tasty. Better than the stuff they serve in the Salem's Hand cafeteria. But I wonder how long Tyrians patience will last if they don't find-
Seeing the bikes crest the horizon, he sees what he's been looking for. Oscar was with them.
Grut pulled out his scroll and called Tyrian.
After a moment, he received an answer. “Her Majesty's loyal servant speaking.”
“Boss? Yeah, it's Grut. He’s here. The boy is here.”
“Grut? You see him? You're certain?”
“Yep. Shadow Clan got him. Don't know if he has Jinn.”
“Then we must strike while the iron is hot. He must not reach Qrow if he does have her.”
“What do we do?”
“You know what must be done. Your task as a spy is complete. I have… new orders for you.”
“Yes sir.” Anything should be better than this, He thought.
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cowlickers · 2 months ago
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Can I describe y’all my crazy video game idea? cool thanks sit down and it’s good probably gonna be a while. so the entire premise is this if this woman (doesn’t have a name yet) but The random moments of her morning she gets transported to a video game world, but the catch is it’s a series and every subsequent games of her going into a video game world in a particular gameplay style during a portion of her morning routine and I have such a vivid vision of what it’s like. She’s literally just trying to get ready to go to work, but she’ll immediately be in the shower and get transported into a platformer, but then when she finishes her adventure in the world and goes to cook herself some breakfast, she gets transported into an RPG when she goes to pick out her outfit, she could transport into a rogue like. Maybe when she goes to try to pick up her room, she could transport into a tower defense game. or if she goes to try to watch her favorite TV show she could transfer it into an ace attorney type game. or like if she goes to a gym, she gets transported into a fighting game. i’m conflicted on whether or not to decide to make the world that is changes styles. Every time she enters or have it be a completely different world that she gets sucked into I don’t know maybe there could be a set group of characters that dwell in that world who also change with the style of game I don’t think I would want it to be all one game that constantly change styles, because not only do I think that would be like incredibly technically impossible but I also would want to have a fully fleshed out game world for each of the style of game. and maybe the reason why all these things are happening is because her grandfather really liked the video games and wanted to share his passion with his granddaughter, but she really didn’t mess with the video games in that way and so when her grandpa died his ghost is just sharing all the games that he wanted her to play but the thing is she hates it because she doesn’t like video games but she then learns to love them because maybe in each separate game, she learned something new about her grandfather that she didn’t know, and she slowly starts to appreciate her grandfather after he’s gone. Oh my gosh forget about the pathos of why this game exists. I just thought of an incredibly cool way to introduce potential villain to the series. The game that introduced the villain is a mascot horror game like five nights at Freddy’s, or Poppy’s playtime. I know I’m kind of jumping around here in this post, but I also want to think that like with each different game that this character goes through her world gets changed just a tiny bit getting filled with like aspects of all the worlds like maybe she is physically stronger and faster after going through the platformer and RPG world maybe she just becomes a little bit more intelligent and good at problem-solving from the ace, attorney and puzzle game worlds. Maybe sometimes any companions that she meets in the world show up in the real world for her. All right if you’ve gotten through this far in my insane ramblings of this idea allow me to share with you the inspiration for this game and I don’t think you are fully ready for what I’m about to say the inspiration for this game is that one episode of Phineas and Ferb episode where Candice gets into a video game in a shot when she was showering. I was just thinking to myself man that would really freaking suck if you were in a mundane situation, and then just got zapped into a magical video game world and have to complete it in order to get back to your normal life. all of that from one episode of Phineas and Ferb.
Honestly, the shit that I come up with sometimes
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clonerightsenthusiast · 22 days ago
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[37.2k words, Gen, Major Character Death]
Jimmy dies. And then he wakes up.
He finds himself in a strange world where his soulmate hates him, his friends are his enemies, his enemies want to be his friends - and nobody has any idea how they got there or why.
Now he has to navigate a tangled web of foreign grudges under the looming threat of the so-called 'Red King' while he makes new friends, tries to connect with this bitter, traumatized version of Tango, and do something he's never been very good at: survive.
-
The Lonely Hearts Club is complete! A Life Series AU fic where each season of the game is a separate universe, and one version of each lifer wakes up in a new place after dying in their own game...
First chapter under the break:
Jimmy woke up with Tango's name dying on his tongue.
He clutched his throat and tensed his whole body, anticipating the Enderman's claws - but they didn't come. It took a second to process that he wasn't under attack, and then another to realize where he was. Or, rather, where he wasn't.
Tall, dark trees stretched as far as he could see, nearly blotting out the sky. This was not the ranch. This wasn't anywhere he recognized from the settlement along the ravine where he lived and died with his soulmate and their friends (and enemies).
How did he get here? The last thing he remembered was splitting up from Tango, and then being cornered by that Enderman and realizing he was about to die – that they were both about to die.
Instinctively, Jimmy flipped over his hand to check the heart etched onto the palm. Last he saw, it had been glowing red, an ever-present reminder of his (their) impending mortality. Now it was gray and faded, like whatever magic powered it had gone out.
That was… strange. He hadn't considered how it might change after he'd died his third death. To be fair, he hadn't thought there was anything after his third death.
Where was he?
First things first: he had to find Tango. Jimmy heaved himself to his feet, patting at his pockets in the vain hope that whatever had brought him here had also brought his stuff. No such luck; and without his horn, his best (and only) recourse was to just start moving and hope he found his partner.
At least, he reassured himself as he got moving through the unfamiliar woods, calling Tango's name, I'd know if he was in trouble. He hadn't felt any phantom pains since he woke up, so wherever Tango was, at least he wasn't hurt.
The longer he walked, the more any hope of stumbling upon familiar ground drained away. These woods seemed to go on forever; there were no landmarks, no looming silhouettes of Pearl's tower or the Box or the Red Velvet Keep peeking through the trees to guide him. It was disorienting, and Jimmy kept catching himself swallowing nervously, tossing a tree branch back and forth between his hands.
When a stick snapped behind him, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around, holding his makeshift club defensively as he called out a nervous, "Tango–?"
A flash of red through the trees, and his heart leapt for just a second before the figure emerged fully, hands up in a show of peace, and an accented voice asked, "Jimmy?"
Pearl. His heart fell as he lowered the branch.
Pearl didn't seem to notice. A smile broke across her face as she swept her red hood down off her head. "Jimmy, am I glad to see you, mate," she said, bounding over to clasp his arm. "I've been lost in these woods for hours, seems like."
"Ah, yeah, Pearl, yeah, me too," Jimmy said, mustering up a smile for her. It's not that he didn't like Pearl; she'd mostly been oddly nice to them. It's just that, well, she wasn't Tango.
That, and, to be honest, she made him nervous. Disaster followed Pearl like one of her dogs.
Not that she had any dogs with her. Like Jimmy, she seemed totally alone.
That knocked him out of his head. He still had to find his soulmate, and maybe she could help him. "Listen, Pearl," he said, furrowing his brows. "Have you seen Tango anywhere?"
Pearl's mouth twisted sympathetically and she shook her head. "No, sorry, mate," she said. "You're the first person I've seen since I woke up here. I don't suppose you've seen Scott, have you?"
Jimmy frowned. "I thought you and Scott were–that is, that you and him aren't… friends?" The question felt lame on his tongue, but he didn't know how better to ask about the animosity everybody knew existed between Pearl and her soulmate.
A strange look passed over Pearl's face - pain and guilt and grief and who knows what else all gnarled up before she shook her head, fingers twisting in the hem of her cloak. "We, uh - look, I just have to find him, all right?"
"All right, yeah, all right," he assured her quickly. "None of my business, anyways. But no, you're the first person I've seen, too. Do you have any idea where we are, by the way?" He turned slightly and tilted his head back to take a sweeping look around the dark forest. Dark-needled trees loomed close above them and remained stubbornly unfamiliar.
Pearl shook her head again, grimacing. "Nope. Not a clue. But hey, Jimmy," she added, brightening. "We oughta stick together, dontcha think? We can find Scott and Tango twice as fast with two eyes keeping a lookout."
The thought of finding Scott made a squirming, angry knot form in the pit of Jimmy's stomach, but reluctantly, he had to concede that he would feel safer having someone around to watch his back. Even if that someone was the Scarlet Pearl.
"Yeah, good idea," he said, and Pearl beamed at him and hooked an arm through his.
"C'mon," she said, tugging him along. "We'll find 'em in no time, you'll see."
-
"No time", it turned out, was at least another hour of walking. He might have been imagining things, but Jimmy was pretty sure the ground had started to slant slightly upwards, making their hike not only scary and demoralizing, but also exhausting.
"Have you noticed, by the way," he finally said, looking for anything to distract himself with, "that our hearts have gone dark?" He flipped his hand over and showed Pearl his palm to demonstrate.
She reciprocated, showing him the same thing - a gray, faded heart etched across her palm.
"Yeah, I noticed," she said. "What d'you reckon it means?"
"I don't know," Jimmy said, chewing the inside of his cheek. He stared down at the offending mark like it might start speaking and explain itself. "You reckon it means we got out? That maybe we're, I dunno, safe, now?"
Pearl cocked her head like one of her dogs and gave him a searching look. "Do you feel safe?"
He was taken aback by the question, but whatever reply he might've had was cut off by a loud voice bellowing, "TOP! Wait for me, wouldja? Geez, it's like you want me to get lost out here."
Jimmy and Pearl both jumped and turned to each other with mirrored, wide-eyed stares.
"Who is that?" Jimmy asked, alarmed and bewildered all at once by the sound of someone who was definitely not one of his neighbors.
"No idea, but we should check it out, yeah?" Pearl said, already moving towards the noise.
"Wh - Pearl!" Jimmy spluttered and jumped after her, stumbling over his own feet in his rush to not be left behind. She shot him an amused look that he answered with an indignant glare before ducking around a tree and finding himself on the outskirts of a small clearing.
The source of the unfamiliar voice must have been the tall, dark-haired man gesticulating broadly with an arm covered in prominent scars. Jimmy registered his presence for all of half a second because leaning against a tree on the other side of the clearing, his face twisted up in a sneer, was Tango.
Before he could even blink, he was halfway across the ground, running full-tilt towards his soulmate. Tango's eyes slid almost in slow motion from the stranger to him, and Jimmy saw them blow open wide right before he smashed face first into the tree, an alarmed screech echoing in his ears.
Ow.
Jimmy rubbed his aching forehead, blinking away the doubled image of the tree in front of him as his addled brain tried to make sense of what had just happened. He turned towards the source of the yelling to see Tango suddenly a few feet to the side, shoulders up around his ears, clutching a tree branch defensively in front of him.
"Seriously?!" Tango yelped. "We're starting with the fighty-fighty already?!"
"Jimmy!" Pearl yelped, darting across the clearing towards him. "What the hell was that, mate?" she demanded of Tango, who jerked around to keep his club in between him and her.
"What do you - don't 'what the hell was that' me!" Tango snapped. "What the hell was that - him!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay, nobody needs to fight!" the stranger jogged over, his arms spread to keep some distance between the three of them. He gave Tango a stern look and then turned to face Pearl and Jimmy, arms still extended. "What do we have here, huh? One of you Bad Boys making a surprise attack?"
It took Jimmy a second to realize the man was looking at him. He blinked. "What - are you talking about me?" He looked up at Pearl. "Is he talking about me? I'm not bad!"
"Sure you're not," the stranger said derisively. "And she's not a Nosey Neighbor, either."
"Not your neighbor, certainly, sir," Pearl spat back, affronted.
"You're talking nonsense again, Skizz," Tango put in, rolling his eyes. The end of the club dipped down and he used it to gesture first at Pearl, then Jimmy. "That's Scott's buddy. And the dude they kicked out of the Southlands."
"What are you talking about?" Pearl demanded. "Who is this man? Explain, please, sir!"
Jimmy had finally had enough and pulled enough of his wits together again to cut in. "Tango, it's me, it's Jim," he pleaded, pushing himself back up to his feet. Why was Tango still glaring at him like that? "Your rancher! Your soulmate."
Tango stared at him, like Jimmy had just announced cows could fly, or something similarly out of pocket. Then, after a heavy pause, snorted once, and then burst out laughing - a full, mean belly laugh. "Oh, that's a good one. Haven't heard that one before. D'you hear that, Skizz? Blondie over here just said I'm his soulmate." Tango folded one arm over his middle, taking a hand off his club to wipe a tear from his eye.
Jimmy's jaw dropped with his stomach. What… What was happening? He'd been a little afraid, sure, that maybe Tango would be angry at him for getting them both killed, but he wasn't prepared for… this, whatever this was! He felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him; he'd never have imagined Tango capable of playing a joke on him this cruel. Tango was always the one defending him. Tango was supposed to be on his side.
"But - but -" he stammered. "Don't laugh, it's true, you know it's true - we have a ranch, you built the ranch - well, we both built it, together, after Scar burned it down, but you did it the first time, and -"
"Yeah, okay," Tango's voice, harsher than Jimmy had ever heard it, cut across his frantic babbling. "Listen, buddy. Why don't you take your silly little soulmate-whatever nonsense and skadoodle on outta here."
"But Tango–" Jimmy tried again.
"Uh-uh!" Tango made a derisive sound deep in his throat and chopped at the air with his free hand. "Seriously. I've already got one weirdo I don't want following me around, and at least back when I knew him, I actually liked him."
"Gee, thanks, Top," the stranger (Skizz?) said dryly.
"Don't you start with me," Tango shot back, already turning his attention away from Jimmy.
Pearl's hand closed tight around his wrist. "These guys are jerks," she said, jostling his arm. "You don't have to take this from them, soulmate or no soulmate. You can do better. Let's just go."
"No, no, no, no, no," Jimmy said, his stomach swooping in panic as Pearl started to tug him away. "No! This is wrong. Tango, please–" He wrenched his arm out of Pearl's grip and lunged past Skizz towards Tango, grabbing for his free arm, no plan in mind beyond the desperate need for his soulmate to recognize him.
Tango squawked in alarm and whipped the club around, bringing it down on Jimmy's wrist as hard as he could at the awkward angle. Jimmy yelped and snatched his hand back, clutching it to his chest. It wasn't - it didn't feel like a serious injury, but that hurt.
Horror dawned on him as Tango glared back without so much as a wince.
Dazed, Jimmy raised his uninjured hand and slapped himself across the face as hard as he could.
"Jimmy!" Pearl yelped.
Tango remained unmoved. "Ooookay," he said, taking a step back. "Yep. He's crazy."
Tango pulled his head back as he went, as if trying to put extra distance between them, and this close up, Jimmy finally noticed something else - on the side of his neck was what looked like a tattoo: a gray heart just under his jaw, and a line of Xs just below that trailed down his neck and disappeared under his shirt collar.
A tattoo that Jimmy was definitely, absolutely, 100% sure Tango did not and had never had.
"You're not him," he said dumbly, horrified. "You're not him."
"Not who?" Not-Tango groused. "Your soulmate? Yes, we've established that already, thank you for finally noticing."
"Pearl," Jimmy said, fumbling behind him to blindly grasp her hand and squeeze it. "That's not him." He finally turned to look at her, eyes wide and haunted. Pearl looked similarly out of her depth, but schooled her face into a look of sympathy. "That's not Tango. It's NOT Tango!"
"Jimmy," Pearl entreated, tugging on his hand. "C'mon. Let's go."
"Yeah, you go on," Not-Tango said, but Jimmy could barely hear him over the rushing in his ears. "C'mon, weirdo Skizz. Let's get a move on before we die like idiots. Again."
Jimmy thought somebody (Skizz?) might have patted him on the shoulder, but he was lost in a daze as he allowed Pearl to tug him along after her, out of the clearing and away from the two strangers.
He couldn't make sense of it. Tango, sharp and mean, trading barbs with someone Jimmy had never met, making nonsensical comments, with a bizarre tattoo on his neck, and no response to Jimmy's pain. Jimmy knew Tango. Tango didn't suffer in silence; Tango complained, he joked, he even ranted, but he always reacted. But Jimmy had hurt them both (should have hurt them both), and he hadn't even flinched.
"Pearl," he finally said, digging in his heels and grabbing hold of her other arm. "What is going on."
"I don't know," she said, shoulders sagging. "That man - Skip? He acted like he knew us, but I've never seen him before in my life. And then Tango acted like he didn't know us - or, like he knew us, but he didn't know us? I am… so confused."
"You know who I am, right, Pearl?" Jimmy asked, suddenly desperate for reassurance.
"Of course I do, Jim!" Pearl was quick to reassure him, clapping her hands on his shoulders. "You're one of the ranchers. I showed you how to get the horns off a goat and stole Scar's horse for you."
Despite everything, Jimmy's lips quirked up into the slightest of smiles. "Right. Right. Yeah. And you're the Scarlet Pearl, and you stole my horn back from me, and the horse, if I remember right."
Pearl grinned, her eyes glinting in the fading light. "Well, it wasn't personal, mate. Just a bit of mischief."
Jim huffed, shaking his head. "Something weird is going on, Pearl. What - what happened, after I died? Was there anything… I dunno, strange?"
Pearl cocked her head, a sharp smile creeping across her face. "Well, mostly what happened was war. Everybody started killing each other, or getting themselves killed - Bdubs and Impulse came after me, and I ripped them to shreds. Then Cleo and Martyn betrayed me, so I chased Cleo down, and then - "
The wild, frightening light in Pearl's eyes dimmed as that awful smile twisted into a haunted look. "And then it was just me and Scott left," she said, more quietly. She let go of Jimmy's arms and twisted her fingers in the hem of her cloak, her shoulders curling in on herself. Jimmy splayed his fingers, not sure if he should reach out. "And Scott, he said…"
"PEARL!"
Both of them jumped at the sound of a distinctive, familiar accent.
As if summoned by Pearl's retelling, Scott's blue hair bobbed between distant trees until the man himself finally emerged into view and launched himself full tilt at the two of them, nearly leaping into the air in his haste to throw his arms around Pearl.
Jimmy caught a sharp gasp from Pearl as he hurriedly backpedaled out of the way. It was hard to be glad to see Scott again (the jerk), but he bit his tongue for Pearl's sake as she very tentatively brought her arms up to hug him back, her eyes wide and breath shaky.
There was nothing tentative about the way Scott was holding her. "It's so good to see you," he chattered at her, his voice warm in a way Jimmy had never heard from him. "I saw Ren kill you, and I thought I'd never see you again."
Jimmy could see the moment Pearl's heart broke.
"Sorry," she said, doing an admirable job of keeping her voice level, "Ren? Ren didn't kill me."
Scott went stiff. "Oh," he said, his grip on her loosening. "You're not my Pearl, then." He pulled back, and Jimmy caught just a glimpse of regret before he shook himself and regained his composure.
"Well, it's good to see you anyway," he said, giving her a squinty-eyed smile. He turned the same friendly face towards Jimmy, which was an unnerving experience. "Hello to you, too, Jimmy. Which Jimmy are you, if you don't mind me asking?"
Jimmy blinked. "Um," he said. "Just me, Jimmy. Sorry. What are you talking about? Pearl, do you know what he's talking about?"
"Don't ask me, mate," Pearl said, turning her head away from them slightly as she rubbed at her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm as lost as you are."
"Oh, you haven't figured that part out, yet?" Scott asked, glancing between the two of them. At their blank looks, he huffed and smiled again. "Well, let's build a shelter and I'll explain. It's getting dark, and I'd rather not just be out standing in the woods at night."
It was getting dark, and also cold, so Jimmy and Pearl shared a glance and quickly agreed. The three of them set about putting together a hasty lean-to, enough to block the wind and rain, and built a fire to ward off the chill and monsters both.
-
"So, first of all," Scott said when they'd settled around the fire, him sitting on a raised tree root while Jimmy and Pearl huddled together on the ground. "What kind of marks do the two of you have?"
"Marks?" Jimmy asked, confused, and Pearl echoed him.
"Yeah, like - here, see." Scott tilted his head and gestured at his neck, and Jimmy gasped as he finally noticed, in the flickering firelight, a tattoo awfully similar to Not-Tango's - a gray heart on the soft spot just under his jaw, and a neat line of Xs following the curve of his neck below it. "It probably used to be different colors, if it's anything like mine."
"Oh," Jimmy said dumbly, and reached out his hand, palm up, to show Scott the heart etched into it. "We have these." Pearl grunted in accord and held up her own hand.
Scott hummed, nodding. "Right. Well, I've met a couple people, and the best we can tell, we've been pulled here from different - worlds? Timelines? You know, something along those lines." He reached down and scooped up a stick, drawing tally marks in the dirt. "There's the one I come from, and you two are clearly from the same one." He made two lines. "Earlier, I met Grian - well, a Grian, and Cleo, and they also had different marks, so…" He scratched out two more. "There are at least four worlds that we've come from."
"Earlier, just before we met you," Jimmy said, drumming his fingers on his knee as he stared at the tally marks to avoid staring at Scott's neck, "we ran into two others - someone I'd never seen before, and -" his voice caught in his throat, and he swallowed and forced himself to keep talking, "and Tango, and he had a mark like yours, on his neck." His eyes flicked up to the offending mark before he forced himself to look away. "They were saying things that didn't make sense, calling us names and talking about us like we were totally different people - and I didn't see the other guy's mark, but he and Tango were arguing about it, too." He looked at Pearl. "What was his name? Skippy?"
Pearl cocked her head, trying to remember. "Skip? Skit?"
"Do you mean Skizz?" Scott asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. "You don't know… ? Well. We don't know exactly how many worlds we've come from, but clearly at least some of us have come from the same place."
"That explains why Tango didn't react when he hit you," Pearl said suddenly, elbowing Jimmy. "That Tango isn't your soulmate."
Scott blinked. "Sorry, did you say–"
Jimmy ignored him. "But then where's my Tango?" he demanded, perturbed. "If I'm here, he has to be here somewhere, right?" He looked up at Scott entreatingly. "Right?"
Scott's mouth twisted in sympathy. "Maybe," he said reluctantly, like he couldn't say no for sure, but he really, really doubted it. "It's also possible that it's just us. There's really no way for us to tell unless we run into a double of somebody. And if there were at least five of us all running around, you'd think we'd have seen it."
Jimmy's frown deepened. "But…" he said slowly, a growing unease inside him, "if Tango's back in our world, then that would mean he's…"
Pearl squeezed his hand.
Jimmy didn't know what to think. The very idea of Tango being dead, while Jimmy was here, alive and breathing, was unthinkable. That shouldn't be possible. They were soulmates. That wasn't how it was supposed to work.
"I…" he said, then swallowed hard and tried again. "I have to take a walk."
"No, Jimmy, you can't go out on your own," Scott protested, "You don't even have a proper weapon. You'll get yourself killed."
"I need to think," Jimmy said stubbornly, rising to his feet.
"It's okay, Scott," Pearl cut in before he could protest again. "Jimmy, mate, stay within sight of the fire, yeah? And yell if you need help."
"Yeah," Jimmy mumbled. "Yeah, I will."
"See?" Pearl said. "He'll be fine. Look, Scott, there's something I ought to tell you…"
Jimmy dutifully gathered a bundle of sticks and lit one to act a torch before wandering away from their makeshift camp, leaving Pearl to scoot closer to Scott and begin speaking to him in a low voice.
He laid down the torches as he went, leaving a clear path back to safety, but they were rote, unthinking movements. He was too caught up in his own numbness and grief to keep a proper eye out, which was horrendously dangerous, but he didn't care. He was too busy working through the implications of what he'd just learned.
He couldn't stop thinking about the other Tango. His cruel sneer, the anger and suspicion in his eyes and words, the way he snapped and growled even at his companion. His Tango had never looked like that. Ever. Even at their lowest, when their home burned down around them and Tango's beloved monster died on the rocks of the ravine to cheers, he had never looked like that. Upset, sad, angry, absolutely, furiously, incandescent with rage - but never cruel.
He wondered what the other Tango's world had been like, to make him that way.
He missed his rancher, which was something he hadn't even known he could do. They'd never been truly separated before. And he realized, with dawning horror, that if his Tango hadn't come with him - if he was truly dead, back on the road to the ranch where Jimmy's folly had killed him - this warped version may be the only one he'd ever see again. He shuddered at the thought.
And yet; somehow, still, the thought of never seeing him again - whatever version of him there was to see - was worse.
Jimmy stopped short, realizing he'd run out of torches. He turned and started trudging back towards camp, following the bright line of light that ended back at the fire and the one (two?) friend he still had. He took a deep, shuddering breath in as he went and let it out in a gusty sigh as he came to grips with what he'd decided.
Unfortunately, he did want to see Tango again - and somehow, despite everything, despite the bizarre circumstances and their awful first meeting and his overall terrible attitude, he would find a way for them to be friends.
The alternative was just too awful to bear.
(keep reading)
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teddyreblogslotf · 9 months ago
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hi! so i don’t think it’s completely unknown knowledge that i have a HUGE hyperfixation on wizard101 (u should totalllly go play /nf)
anyways i hate jkr so here is a wizard au that isn’t hogwarts related (these are just my opinions but i have played as every school so i promise they’re informed):
jack: fire wizard ALL THE WAY. fire wizards specialise in damage over time attacks and are the second hardest hitter in wizard101 history. they are known to be the only school that even has the chance to solo the game because of how powerful their hits are and how good their health balances them out. my main is a fire, so i’m biased but this school is EXTREMELY fitting for him.
“Fire wizards tend to be smart, passionate, competitive, and attractive. Fire wizards have attack spells that linger, damaging their foes again and again."
ralph: storm. wizard. storm wizards give up accuracy and health to deal as much damage as possible. they truly are one shot wizards, and i have had very few issues with my storm wizard. he’s great, they kill first turn as soon as possible. this is the hardest hitting school and it rivals with fire for the hitter in a group, which i think is super relevant to the jack and ralph conflict.
“Storm wizards are often impulsive, educated, creative, and independent. Storm wizards are capable of devastating attacks, but have somewhat weaker defenses.”
piggy: balance. balance on its own is really nothing special, they’re generally a helper school, blading their teammates to make other people’s hits harder. they’re a known support school that i think piggy fits because they’re not really hitters, they’re just helpers to their friends.
"Balance wizards are wise, clever, thoughtful and charming. Balance wizards are great at adjusting to the rules of combat."
roger: death wizard and not because it’s obvious. death wizards rely on attacks that simultaneously drain their foe of health and then give HP back to the wizard. death wizards also have access to a ton of blades and traps that make their spells hit hard and heal for harder. death wizards (not NPCs/mobs) are so hard to kill because they just. will not. die.
"Death wizards are often solitary, driven, brave, and intelligent. Death wizards use drains, taking strength from their enemies and healing themselves."
simon: life! life wizards are not really hitters at all. i mean they have a few good hits and they can get by if needed, but the school was designed to be a healer school. life wizards aid their allies by healing them consistently whenever needed. they’re a staple on a team to be honest because they are easily the best school. it’s hard to kill a life wizard because they just heal over and over.
"Life wizards are often social, charming, funny, and spiritual. Life wizards are great at healing themselves and others."
maurice: life (again). i think maurice was such a supportive guy, it’s hard to see him as any other school. life wizards tend to be the building blocks of a team, and i feel like that really fits him :)
"Life wizards are often social, charming, funny, and spiritual. Life wizards are great at healing themselves and others."
sam: i split the twins up you’ll see why. anyways, sam is ice. ice schools are almost strictly defensive, they are absolute TANKS, coming in at 10K+ health by the time they’re fully levelled (other schools average 7-9K). this reflects on their attacks, which are less than ideal doing low damage. they specialise is defending themselves and their friends from attacks, with spells like tower shield that do a universal -50% incoming damage. their sole purpose is take the damage so that the hard hitters can get those hits in.
"Ice wizards are typically strong, loyal, courageous and honest. Ice wizards can take a lot of damage, but are somewhat weaker when attacking."
eric: myth. myth wizards are usually solitary wizards, who summon minions to aid them in combat instead of other wizards. their damage is run of the mill, they are probably the third hardest hitting school. they have everything they NEED to get by solo, but it’s not easy. myth pairs best with ice (imo) because if myth can hit and ice can tank, you’ve got a solid duo. which is why they are the twins.
"Myth wizards are usually Visionary, serious, competitive, and knowledgeable. Myth wizards often fight alone, summoning minions to aid them in battle."
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basedkikuenjoyer · 1 year ago
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I wanted to take a brief pause after VII, just to talk about hallmarks of Dragon Quest as a series. Because we are leaving the era where these games are a driving force in developing the JRPG genre. Like...I know when I do the final ranking I'm going to put II much higher than most. Because I earnestly feel II is one of those very special games that developed so many things that became ubiquitous you take it for granted. This does not mean VIII, IX, and XI are bad by any stretch. I'd compare it to The Simpsons; your purpose has changed in a world full of imitators. What was revolutionary is not comforting and timeless.
Sadly this does mean we'll lose a few elements that didn't translate into the next generation. Eventually the designers behind the series started following norms competitors innovated. So before we go on to VIII and it's massive legacy, a few favorite hallmarks I didn't get to cover:
One of the most iconic features here since the first that's just as fun in XI. Metal Slimes. So many have tried this and none work as well as the original. Rare version of a weak enemy that nets massive experience. The catch? They're quick to flee and while they have only 3-4 HP their defense is maxed out. Enough you might do 1 damage on a hit. Then later games introduce different, stronger varieties. If you need to grind, the metal slime family always feels like a fun little mini-game to shorten it. And the developers are smart about where their hotspots are usually. If you see one in a new area, it's worth it to try and bag a few first pass.
Dungeon Philosophy. I hate this has fallen by the wayside in favor of following Final Fantasy's style. Early on, you had to approach dungeons like an old school D&D module. You're not doing it first try. It's all part of the fun baked into what happens on a loss. You just go back to the last King/Priest you saved at and lose half your money. The dungeons are designed around this, if it's a tower you can just hop off and go back to town. But you'll have to make a few runs at the labyrinth to figure everything out and learn the optimal path. Especially with...
Random encounters having some teeth to them. This has diminished over time but game design in general has gotten easier so I don't fault DQ for it. But in those early ones, yeah random encounters can be brutal. You need to consider spells like sleep or fog that'll spare you some hits cheaply. If you flee and fail you lose a turn like a lot of RPGs but not every monster will go so it's more viable sometimes. All together, simple but tight design. A dungeon in early Dragon Quest feels like a real challenge of balancing resources like MP. This is why I love III so much, the class system plus peak design philosophy makes everything work so well as a total package. Your party comp will determine which parts are hard or easy.
Decisions on equipment. This is subtle but very cool in practice. Unlike a lot of JRPGs, in these early Dragon Quest games you're going to have to grind a lot to get every new piece of equipment you can buy immediately. Which will feel even worse if something is rendered obsolete with a dungeon treasure. You're not expected to. When you first get to town you decide what felt like it needed to be bolstered the most, then go on and start taking on the dungeon expecting to need a few trips. When you're ready to leave, decide if you want to polish it off here or try your luck with a headstart on the next town. Later games have replaced this with a crafting element I like, so it's more of a lateral move.
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dionysia-does-stories · 1 year ago
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Starburst Pattern
Cringetober2023, Day 1: Heterochromia
On AO3
Rating G - 949 words - Teen Titans - Robin/Starfire
Summary: Robin is getting ready for a trip to Gotham where Starfire will meet Batman for the first time and he's a little freaked out about it. Luckily, the heterochromatic eyes of Starfire's new, human disguise hologram prove a welcome distraction.
Story:
Robin was nervous but he was trying not to let it show on his face. His years of training in control and subterfuge had occasionally let him down in the past. Sometimes his thoughts were written all over his face. Especially to the other Titans. Especially to Starfire.  But that couldn’t happen today. Today he was bringing the girl he loved home to meet his…Batman.
Batman who believed love made you weak and relationships made you vulnerable. Batman who demanded your best then demanded more. He was Robin’s mentor of many years. He was the closest thing Robin had to a father. He was Robin’s savior, the only person who saw the rage born of his parents’ death and helped him channel it. He was Batman. He was going to crush Starfire’s heart and Robin would never forgive him.
Robin slammed equipment into a duffle bag. Raven watched him suspiciously, but didn’t comment.
Behind him he heard Cyborg call out, “Star, let’s test it out before you go.”
She flew over to Cyborg, doing a loop-the-loop before hovering in front of him. Her feet hadn’t touched the ground since Dick agreed to take her to Gotham.
“Friend Cyborg, it is a most wondrous invention. It will make be much easier to visit Robin’s K’norfka without being recognized around Gotham.”
“Make sure to tell the Batman that K’norfka in English means nanny,” Beast Boy shouted without looking away from his video games.
“Don’t listen to him. Much as I’d love to see it,” Cyborg advised as he placed a tiny device at the nape of Starfire’s neck.
Starfire’s appearance faded into a more human image. Her skin lost its orange tone. Her hair lost its wild fieriness and some of its length. 
“It’s a term of honor?” She had that lightly questioning tone. The one that said she wasn’t sure what the joke was or if it was mean.
“It doesn’t translate right,” Robin told her as he continued to pack enough tools and weaponry to escape a Justice League holding facility. “If you have to tell him what it means, then translate it as guardian.”
“Okay.” She was floating lower to the ground. 
They hadn’t even left Titan Tower yet and Batman was already a source of misery for her. Robin hated it. He hated that they’d built this silly life where they got to fight crime, but that never stopped them from being honest, kind, and open with each other. He had tried to explain Gotham to Starfire. How it would be all secrets, lies, and darkness. He hadn’t been able to deter her.
Cyborg shot Raven a meaningful look. Raven turned to Robin. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even move her facial features into a judgmental expression. But Robin knew.
“Was I supposed to lie?”
Raven did raise an eyebrow then. “No you’re acting like he’s going to hate her. How is that not supposed to make her feel bad?”
Robin folded his arms defensively. “He would hate any girlfriend I brought home. And she’s trying so hard. She’s been talking about traditional Tameranian gifts for a month. There’s this purple oozy thing that she went half way across the galaxy to get. Cyborg has been tinkering on this human disguise for days. And why should she have to look human just to meet Batman? She’s beautiful and his opinion of her doesn’t matter at all.”
He was panting by the time he stopped talking. Somewhere along the path of his thoughts, he’d forgotten to pause and breath.
“Feel better?” Raven asked, but it was obvious she knew the answer.
“Yeah,” Robin admitted. “I just want her to be happy. Every version of this that I can think of ends up with her being miserable because of me.”
“It might end with her being miserable. You don’t have control over that. However, It doesn’t need to begin with her being miserable.” She was right. Raven was almost always right.
“MY EYES ARE SO MANY COLORS,” Starfire’s delighted scream filled the living room.
Robin set aside his doomsday packing, walking over to where Starfire examined her reflection. She whipped around, bringing her face inches from his.
“Look at my eyes. They are WHITE!” 
Robin felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “They’re gorgeous. Most humans would still call them green though.”
“Because you all have white eyes,” Starfire said. “You do not appreciate how wondrous it is. Look even the green part is many colors. I have heterochromia.”
“She has hexed chrones?” Beast Boy shouted from the couch.
Raven, who have drifted over to sit beside him, said “It means her iris is multiple colors.”
Robin stared into her eyes. The human disguise didn’t effect their light or their joy. They were clearly still Starfire’s eyes. Looking into her odd, human, heterochromatic eyes he felt the same as though they were her natural monochromatic green. He saw the power simmering underneath and was comforted by it. 
She was right that they were two tone. They were a dark forest green toward the pupil and a pale yellow-green at the outside edge of the iris.
Starfire excitedly pointed at her irises, almost poking herself in the eye. “Look how the dark green stretches out in all the little lines away from the middle. Cyborg says that it’s a—“
“—Starburst pattern,” Robin cut in. Starfire nodded. 
“Heterochromia,” she rolled the word around on her tongue. “I’ve known that word for years but had the translation a little wrong. Tamaraneans all have eyes like mine.”
“Oh, how did you learn it then?” This was a running joke between them.
“Like this,” she said and kissed him.
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super-ion · 1 year ago
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Writing some backstory for my D&D character and it kinda got away from me
Setting belongs to @sunnylucy31 (with a couple of my own head canons for some minor details)
~~~
An icy wind whipped over the Cryptfloe tundra. The twisted stunted trees that sparsely dotted the plains did nothing to stop it so it cut like icy knives. Worse, it brought the faintest stench of rot.
It was not yet mid-spring, but Artemisia had overheard the rangers speaking of an early thaw. This far north, there should have been little to fear from roving undead, otherwise they wouldn't have sent three students on patrol with one of the rangers.
The Frostborn prided themselves on being poets and scholars, trading more in song and knowledge than the material wealth of their lumber and coal. Kofar itself was so isolated, there was little need for any sort of standing army, a point of pride among the ivory tower types who dwelled in Whitespire. Beyond the city walls, beasts and monsters still dwelt among the mountains and the forest and the occasional undead creature made its way across the Cryptfloe. A loosely organized volunteer force of rangers patrolled the lands. It was a difficult, thankless job, but it was necessary.
Service assignments were one of the prices of education in the Frostlands. Everybody worked, everybody contributed. The work was meant to keep scholars humble and keep the skalds in touch with the common people. Some assignments were certainly cushier than others. Some assignments they reserved for particularly troublesome students.
She could endure this. She had to. She was going to be a skald and she was going to travel the world.
She was freezing her ass off.
Artemisia pulled her cloak tighter around her and her tail miserably as she trudged onwards. Instead of grand far off fantasies, she shifted her focus to imagining the warm meal waiting for her back at the outpost. If she played her cards right, she might be able to enjoy a warm body too.
Her gaze drifted to Valoshar. The ranger was half orc, tall and powerfully built. She had spied him in the saunas on the second day of her exile to the tundra and had been slowly probing his defenses. Intuition told her that she couldn't just throw herself at his feet, he had too much self respect and likely had all manner of folk clamoring for his attention with each batch of students that were sent out here. No, if she wanted it, she had to work fort it. So she had contented herself with long game. The best part was he was definitely on to her little game and might even be playing along. Their slow dance of seduction was the only thing that made this sojourn almost tolerable. It was a good distraction and gods above and below, it would be so worth it. Oh, to finally feel those tusks brush roughly against her lips and… elsewhere… it would be-
"I fucking hate this," Eriem muttered for the hundredth time, shattering her fantasy.
The half-elf had done nothing but complain since they had gotten here.
"Yeah, well," Artemisia replied spitefully. "If somebody hadn't been caught stealing from the kitchens, we might have been sent somewhere more pleasant."
"Anyone could have been caught," Eriem protested.
Artemisia scoffed.
"You were bumbling around like an owlbear. It's like you wanted to get caught."
"And I suppose you wouldn't have?" he snipped.
"Oh please," she replied. "I was stealing from my father's kitchen as soon as I could walk. There's an art to it."
"Then why are you out here stumbling around in the snow like the rest of us?"
"Because I'm cursed to associate with morons and idiots," she shot back.
Laru, the fourth member of their party, cleared his throat softly.
"I… I think it's a great honor," he said. "To see the frontier and the brave warriors who defend it."
The little gnome scholar had a soft, melodic voice, he might have made a good skald if he were able to hold a tune worth a damn. But he liked stories, so Artemisia had taken a liking to him. He had responded initially with suspicion, but gradually relaxed when he realized she wasn't a threat.
"Oh please," Eriem scoffed. "You got sent here as a punishment just like Artie and me."
Artemisia ground her teeth at the nickname, but she held her tongue. He knew she hated it and she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of witnessing her discomfort.
"To each according to their need-" Laru began, but was cut off by another scoff.
"This shit again?" Eriem interrupted.
Laru fell into sullen silence at that.
"Gods, Eriem," she muttered, "do you have to be such an ass all the time? Don't you think this whole situation might be just a little more tolerable if you were pleasant for a change?"
Eriem grumbled something uncharitable that she chose to ignore.
The sad part was Laru believed what he said. Well… she believed the words, she was Frostborn after all. They were a hardy people, but that hardiness came from community. The actual sad part was the scholar believed he had been specially chosen by the Conclave to patrol the Cryptfloe as part of his service curriculum. The maxim of "live together, die alone" took on a looser meaning in Whitespire where so many people living in one location in comfortable safety led to stratification. The likely truth was that he was a pawn in some political machination, somebody's nephew or cousin, shunted off to the tundra for a semester for some blackmail purposes.
Skald education was somewhat different than a scholar's. Artemisia and Eriem were both apprenticed to Gwynris Horthahk. The dwarf was a demanding teacher but when she sang, her audience hung rapt on every note, every word, every tiny gesture. Artemisia wanted that. She had wanted it more than anything ever since Gwynris had stayed at their inn when she was seven. The woman had traded a performance for a room and her father had certainly gotten the far better end of that deal.
Two years prior, word had reached Fardrift that Gwynris was seeking an apprentice and Artemisia had seized her opportunity and made the trek to Whitespire alone in late autumn only to discover that a rich family with an important name was already paying her a tidy salary to mentor one of their scions.
Artemisia, tiefling bastard daughter of an innkeeper from Fardrift, had a name that might have meant something a hundred years prior and a handful of silver that her father had pressed into her hands upon her hurried departure. But she was Frostborn: she knew how to be relentlessly patient.
It was rare for a skald to take on a second apprentice, but she decided to make her presence a problem until she secured that apprenticeship, no matter how long it took.
For two weeks, she hounded the woman's every move, charming her way through the staff entrances of inns, taverns and mead halls across the city, desperate for even a scrap of wisdom. It had taken Eriem three entire days before he realized they were being waited on by the same serving girl in every establishment, but Gwynris herself never commented on it. The woman just regarded her with a detached curiosity.
Eventually, either Gwynris had been impressed by Artemisia's persistence, or she had heard something special in one of her street performances, or maybe she just grew annoyed by the vagabond sleeping on her doorstep. Whatever the reason, Gwynris took her on and Artemisia quickly discovered how harsh of a mentor the dwarf really was.
Eriem, the pompous little shit that he was, was destined to be an orator, singing sagas for the richest families of Kofar and the wealthiest diplomats from abroad. His family's money kept Gwynris well fed and her sole interest in his education was ensuring that he didn't embarrass her.
Artemisia on the other hand, she worked three times as hard. There were endless errands and harrowing lessons that would go on for hours. Artemisia chafed under the preferential treatment and found herself questioning her life's purpose on more than one occasion. But she persisted, and slowly, grudgingly came to realize that Gwynris was preparing her to survive in the world beyond the shores of Kofar. Whatever spark Gwynris saw in Artemisia, she meant for it to thrive and even blaze in the wider world.
Artemisia was certain this assignment, patrolling the tundra's edge with the rangers, was another lesson. Officially, it was punishment. Eriem had indeed stolen sweet cakes from the Conclave kitchens, but Artemisia had the impression that he was being punished more for being caught than the actual crime itself. Artemisia had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and "it would be good for her" and "she might learn something".
So she had decided to make the most of it. She swapped tales with Laru and was already composing an epic ballad based on one of the more obscure stories he told her. She had to embellish, of course. No sense writing an epic if it was just going to put people to sleep.
She also collected bawdy drinking songs and solemn dirges from the rangers. It was a fascinating subculture out here on the tundra where frozen undead thawed and slowly advanced every summer. She could probably write a book about it if she were so inclined. Somebody would probably read it.
She was so lost in thought that she didn't notice Valoshar had stopped in his tracks until she almost plowed into him.
By instinct, she froze. She had grown up between the mountains and the forest. She knew that when a ranger stopped moving, something was afoot.
She cocked her head and strained to hear, but the tundra was dead silent save for the wind.
"What the hell is going on, Val?" Eriem shouted.
Before she could turn to tell him to shut up, there was a thunderous crack and she was knocked gracelessly to the frozen ground as a massive shape erupted from beneath them.
The wind was knocked out of her and her hands and knees smarted painfully from where she landed. She only had a moment to blink dazedly before the screaming started.
She scrambled painfully to her feet and whirled. The zombie might have been a bugbear once, but it had rotted and frozen and refrozen beyond recognition. It had its jaws clamped tight around Laru's leg as he beat helplessly at its face.
Her hand grasped the hilt of her rapier and yanked it free. Her mind raced as she tried to recall the details of all the lessons Gwynris had beaten into her. She had never fought a real enemy before, but her understanding was that stage fighting was very much different from the real thing. She squared her stance and raised her blade.
Eriem stood a few paces away, his eyes were round and panicky and his mouth hung slack in terror. He held the hilt of his own sword in a white knuckled grip, but shock had completely frozen him before he could draw it. Fine, if he was going to be useless, at least he had the good sense to stay out of the way.
That left her and…
A warhammer slammed into the zombie's shoulder with a crunch, spraying shards of mostly frozen flesh. The zombie released Laru and turned to face Valoshar. It opened its mouth to groan or howl, but no sound emerged from its frozen lungs. The whole effect was deeply disconcerting in Artemisia's opinion.
She had to do something, anything to assist Valoshar, so she did what came naturally. She opened her mouth and sang.
"The sun blazed high in the clear sky
O'er frozen ground, where no plants grow
The thrice cursed dead, he sent to rest
Their bodies thick upon the snow"
It was from the epic she was composing from Laru's story. Valoshar cocked his head at her in a moment of bafflement, but drew himself up at the words.
She took the opportunity to thrust with the rapier. It bounced ineffectively off the frozen flesh, dimming her bravado somewhat, but it was enough to give Valoshar a chance to deliver a devastating blow to the monster's head.
It went down with a crash, twitching and spasming before Valoshar dealt it another blow that brought it back to stillness.
Artemisia stood panting. They had won. Her words had inspired a mighty warrior into great deeds.
Laru moaned in pain nearby, shattering the thrill of victory. The gnome was in poor shape, his leg was mangled and too much blood lay freezing on the ground.
She swallowed. She knew what she had to do, she had seen it done before.
She held her hands before the wound and began to sing a wordless tune. It wasn't quite the same as when she sang for Valoshar, though there had been magic in that. This was rhythm and melody reshaping the world. There were tales that claimed the world had been sung into existence, but she herself had never come close to believing that until now. Laru's wound knit together, color returned to his skin and his breathing calmed.
She finished the song and continued kneeling at his side. She had sung countless times, for audiences of all sizes, but she had never sung like that before. She had done it. She had cast a spell. She had woven sound and magic together into the world and the whole experience left her breathless and exhilarated.
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elegyofthemoon · 10 months ago
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ok im at least a little more cool-headed so
work was easygoing today. genuinely don't remember anything about it because i was spaced out for half of it so 👍🏼did get blood from a patient that was super difficult to get blood from so 👍🏼
guy i hate/am extremely uncomfortable around was sick so i didnt have to deal with him talking my ear off over crap i couldn't care less for
but also because of that, i also found out one of the consulting doctors who is in charge of teaching us actually hates him and thats why the last sessions of teachings hes been giving us such a shit time (i mean tbh i'm still pissed about the time he yelled at me about THAT GUY being late all the time.) he was actually really nice to me when the guy wasn't here which was. such a change in his general demeanor.
Talked too much about Love and Deepspace that I somehow brought a friend who i only recently reunited with into it (she's eyeballing Zayne. also I haven't talked to her in 3 years) just because I remembered she used to like otome games and was like "oh wait hold on maybe she's played this already". didn't mean to rope her in by accident but yay ???? i guess???? more friends to chat about lads with ????? i guess????
Also played the silly beach event in HI3 and while I am in Pain over tower of defense. It is too funny and I love it a lot lol so it made me laugh a bit
think thats it from the day
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leonsrightlations · 1 year ago
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The Earth is Online Chapter 13
“Stowaways all have a very terrible scent on their bodies. The Black Tower hates stowaways the most, so I can get a lot of rewards for eating stowaways as well as enormous power. The meat of a stowaway is also particularly tasty. This is something I’ve never told anyone.”
The giant mole narrowed those tiny eyes, stomping the leftover turkey bones on the ground to pieces.
“There’s a vile stowaway among you seven. Bring them to me and I will eat them!”
Step by step, the big mole closed in on them.
The chef came to half-consciousness, raising his head just in time to catch sight of the big mole’s sharp claws. He shrieked in fright. The mole rushed at him, issuing a sharp cry, and the chef almost passed out in fear once more.
Tang Mo touched his wrist, but the match tattoo was already gone. According to the mole’s statement just now, the match could bring him through the second floor. That meant it definitely had some kind of use for the first floor as well. Tang Mo could sense that he hadn’t at all brought out the match’s full potential. He was only swinging it around ignorantly.
If he was given a bit more time and could attack the Black Tower a little bit later, he might have been able to more thoroughly prepare.
So why did he have to now attack the tower in advance!
The name of the stowaway who had opened the tower attack game flashed into Tang Mo’s mind, but there was no time to complain. He calmly asked, “Which one is the stowaway? How can we find and deliver them to you?”
Li Wen and Lin Qiao’s eyes widened at the same time and they looked toward Tang Mo.
Luo Fengcheng glanced at him and said nothing. The young woman, Peng Yu Wen’s complexion was pale as she watched Tang Mo, her eyes flickering. She seemed not to understand the meaning of his words.
Lin Qiao couldn’t help but say, “You really want to deliver them? This mole said it will eat that person…”
Tang Mo’s expression was cold as he asked rhetorically, “Then are you going to replace the stowaway and be its dinner?”
Lin Qiao’s words were choked off.
Luo Fengcheng’s faint voice sounded. “The stowaway is a murderer. [1] Maybe they had no choice but to kill. Maybe it was out of defense. The laws of the outside world might not sentence them to death, but the Black Tower has already given them the death penalty. We are only finding the stowaway. The other matter has nothing to do with us.”
Li Bin’s expression transformed and he nodded. “Yeah, that’s right… We only want to find out who the stowaway is, nothing more.”
The big mole laughed with a “ji ji.” “How should I know which one is the stowaway? My cave isn’t big enough and all of you humans have gathered together. The stowaway’s scent has drifted throughout the whole cave. I can’t find them. I’ll give you all an hour’s time to find that vile stowaway. I’ll eat one human for each hour you don’t find them. Then I must be able to eat the stowaway.” The big mole looked at Tang Mo. “Oh, that’s right. The relationship between you and Mosaic is very good. You even lent me a match… Then I’ll eat you last, okay?”
Tang Mo didn’t have much of a reaction to this favor.
The big mole looked at Tang Mo’s indifferent appearance and laughed, then went to the corner and began digging. It seemed to want to make its cave bigger by digging. It dug for a bit, then again turned its head. “Two minutes have already passed. Have you found the stowaway?”
Everyone listened to the big mole’s words, their heads covered in a cold sweat.
Li Bin glanced at everyone, then clenched his teeth and asked, “I’ll just ask once. During those three days’ time, have any of you…killed someone?”
Without question, everybody all shook their heads.
“I guessed it would be like this.“ Since they entered the cavern, the white collar elite held the appearance of their leader. There was no exception now. Li Bin forced himself to appear calm and began to analyze the situation. “The mole said that in those three days, the stowaway eliminated a player by way of murder. The stowaway definitely possesses an ability and they have a terrible scent on their body. I haven’t smelled this scent. Have any of you smelled it?”
Lin Qiao shook her head. “I haven’t. My sense of smell has always been very sharp. There’s only the scent of dirt here.”
Everybody all said they hadn’t. Li Bin’s complexion became unsightly. “Then maybe it’s a scent we humans can’t smell. Only they can smell it. How should we find the stowaway?”
Luo Fengcheng said, “The stowaway committed murder and has an ability.”
The chef had been unconscious for a long time, hadn’t heard any of the big mole’s PSA, [2] and couldn’t follow everyone’s rhythm. “Murder? Ability? Hold on, just what happened?”
Nobody had time to explain it to him.
Li Bin asked, “So what?”
The words had just fallen when Li Bin suddenly turned to look at Tang Mo. “You definitely have an ability!”
Tang Mo had just a moment ago drawn a big match out of thin air. This was definitely beyond human power. It was an ability.
Li Wen explained for Tang Mo, “The big mole said that among us seven, there are two official players, four reserve players, and a stowaway. The official players participated in an official Black Tower game to log in. Tang Mo should be an official player. He knows someone named Mosaic. The big mole knows that person, and they definitely also have something to do with the Black Tower game.”
Tang Mo said, “I really did come in by participating in a Black Tower game. Based on the big mole’s statement, I’m probably an official player.”
Li Bin still shook his head. “Before today, you really might have participated in a Black Tower game, but no one can guarantee that it was during those three days. Four days have now passed since the Black Tower announced that the Earth is online. Who can be sure that you didn’t play a game on the fourth day and murder someone during those three days?”
Tang Mo suddenly felt that it was a bit ridiculous. Just as he was about to retort, he heard Luo Fengcheng say, “He’s an official player. The Black Tower hates stowaways and stowaways have a scent on their body. If he isn’t an official player, then before he could see the big mole he certainly would have been discovered by Mosaic, the big mole’s companion. He wouldn’t have been able to survive until today, let alone get Mosaic’s match.”
Tang Mo looked at Luo Fengcheng in astonishment. The other also looked at him.
Neither of them spoke again and the others also understood.
Li Bin said, “That makes sense. There’s a ninety percent chance you really are an official player. There’s still a ten percent chance you’re a stowaway and previously used some kind of trick to conceal your scent so that you weren’t noticed by that Mosaic.”
He paused, then suddenly walked into the center of the seven people. He looked at them all seriously. “Right now, I’ll confess that I am the second official player.”
Tang Mo was a bit surprised.
Li Bin forced a smile and lifted his right hand. “My ability is very chicken ribs. [3] I don’t want to reveal too much about its specific capabilities, but in the current circumstances, it’s not much use at all. However, I can demonstrate my ability’s effect for you.”
Abilities were everyone’s secret and he could be forgiven for not wanting to reveal his.
They saw Li Bin crouch on the ground, reach out his right finger, and draw a circle on the ground. A smooth, flowing curve gradually appeared on the ground. It was an extremely precise circle and the final point fell exactly at the beginning point. From start to finish, it formed a perfect enclosed circle.
This was a circle that he had drawn out purely with his finger, no tool required.
Lin Qiao’s eyes widened. “So round? Your ability shouldn’t be ‘can draw circles without a compass,’ right?”
Can this be called an ability?
Tang Mo faintly frowned. “Although this circle is extremely well done, it definitely can’t prove that you have an ability. You might have studied art.”
Li Bin nodded. “Then watch again.”
They saw Li Bin reach out his finger and, next to the circle from before, he once again drew a circle. It came full circle [4], fully smooth and round. It was once again an exceedingly perfect circle.
“Ah! Isn’t this the same size as the circle from before!?” Lin Qiao said in alarm.
Li Bin wore a resigned expression. “What my specific ability is, I don’t want to say. But you should be convinced that I have an ability, right? I’m the remaining official player.”
“You…you have an ability. Why can’t you be the stowaway?” The young woman, Peng Yu Wen, stood behind Lin Qiao and spoke shyly, her complexion pale.
Li Bin said, “I took the initiative to come forward and say that I’m an official player. Could I still be the stowaway? Little friend, if I was the stowaway, I would certainly try to hide now, not let other people know that I have an ability. Right now, among the seven of us, only this younger brother [5] is safest.” He pointed at Tang Mo. “There’s an eighty or ninety percent chance he’s really an official player. The big mole said that reserve players might also possess abilities, but the probability is very low. We can just treat it like they don’t have any. In that case, the next person with an ability to appear had a fifty percent chance of being a stowaway.”
Li Bin earnestly analyzed, “Under these circumstances, I took the initiative to come forward and reveal to you all that I have an ability. This can prove that I’m upright and unafraid of having a crooked shadow.” [6]
Li Wen, standing at Tang Mo’s side, interrupted, “You could also be using reverse psychology.” [7]
Li Bin still said, “Since it’s like this, let the third person with an ability come forward. As long as they come forward, they are definitely the stowaway. Because I know - I haven’t killed anyone. I participated in a game. This younger brother is also an official player. So the third person who possesses an ability is definitely a stowaway!”
Tang Mo said, “I believe you.”
Just now, Li Bin had continuously displayed calm, but his lips were actually always slightly trembling. Now he suddenly heard Tang Mo’s words and he shivered from excitement. He walked right up to Tang Mo’s side. “Younger brother, thank you. I really am an official player. I can tell you all about the game I played. I can tell you how I won that game. I can say it all.”
Tang Mo smiled, shook his head, and said, “You in particular don’t have to say it. All of us must say it.”
In the dim underground cavern, the big mole rustled as it dug in the dirt, its mouth whistling a joyful tune.
In order to declare what all of them had experienced previously in those three days, seven people gathered together.
Luo Fengcheng seriously swept his eyes over all of their faces and said, “I can divide all of the murders that occur in this world into three kinds: The first kind is the accidental type. This is the most commonly seen reason for killing. Most of the time, people have an excited state of mind and can’t control themselves. They might kill by mistake, or use excessive force from self-defense, causing an accident. This is an honest mistake. If that stowaway among us [8] killed someone due to an accident, then when that big mole clearly gave the definition of a stowaway, they would certainly be uneasy. They would feel they had been revealed, have a guilty conscience, and feel somewhat exposed.”
Li Wen said in alarm, “Ah? Then say it earlier. A long time has passed now. Who knows what everyone’s reaction was at that time?”
Tang Mo said, “I paid attention. At that time, everyone’s reactions all still seemed normal and not too excited.”
Luo Fengcheng gave Tang Mo a glance. “He’s not wrong.”
Since entering this cavern, Tang Mo hadn’t relaxed his vigilance. Having experienced a “you die, I live” two person confrontation game, Tang Mo didn’t dare believe these unfamiliar “teammates.”
Luo Fengcheng continued to say, “So there’s an eighty percent chance that the stowaway among us didn’t accidentally kill. They knew they were committing murder. It was deliberate. There is the second kind - the violent type. They only purely desire to kill. The reason is generally to satisfy their own various abnormal psychological or physical needs.”
Everyone touched their necks, feeling a bit cold.
This kind of criminal also wasn’t rare. Serial killers could be classified in this category.
Tang Mo wrinkled his brows.
Then Luo Fengcheng finally said, “I think the stowaway among us ought to be classified as the third kind. They deliberately killed, but don’t have the heart of a killer. They know it’s murder, but absolutely aren’t a homicidal person. They have their own reason for killing. So when they’re exposed, they won’t be surprised, because they already know what they did and why they had to do it.”
Li Wen gulped. “I also feel there shouldn’t be a crazy, antisocial killer like that among us.”
Lin Qiao felt a bit cold. “I also agree. It should be the third kind.”
Tang Mo very calmly listened until Luo Fengcheng finished speaking every word. Then he walked up to Luo Fengcheng and said with a smile, “What you said is really very reasonable. Like this, we can now continue the previous topic, right? It would be best to start from you. Mr. Luo, what did you do in those three days? Are you really a game designer? Where do you work?”
Luo Fengcheng lifted his head slightly, looking at the black-haired youth before his eyes.
Tang Mo’s expression wasn’t too aggressive, yet there was a thread of doubt and question mixed into his gaze.
The two of them stood face to face for a long time.
Luo Fengcheng took an ID out of his pocket and handed it over. “During those three days, I was under the Black Tower conducting research experiments. Let’s officially meet. I’m the team leader of the S-City District A research institute, Luo Fengcheng.”
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Character Refresher:
Li Bin (李彬), 29, male, works at a PR firm.
Peng Yu Wen (彭玉雯), 18, female, first year of university. Small, looks like a junior high student.
Tang Mo (唐陌), 23, male, librarian. Our protagonist! :D
Li Wen (黎文), 25, male, unemployed. A foolishly sweet second generation whose Maserati is now destroyed.
Lin Qiao (林巧), 20, female, university student.
Zhao Xiang (赵翔), 32, male, former chef.
Luo Fengcheng (洛风城), 28, wears glasses and looks refined.
Uncle Mole (鼹鼠叔叔), a cute and generous mole. ^_^
Translation Notes:
[1] The general words 犯罪 and 罪犯 (crime and criminal) continue to be used throughout here with a few exceptions. To ease my own headache over this matter, I’ve decided to just translate them directly as murder/murderer or killing.
[2] The text says “料普” (with the quotes). I had a really hard time trying to figure out what this means, but based on the literal translation (popular information) and the quotes, I’m guessing that it has the same kind of casual, faux-official tone and meaning as PSA. Uh, PSA stands for public service announcement, in case you don’t know.
[3] “Chicken ribs” means basically useless. Baidu: “It doesn’t have much meat but it would be a pity to throw it away. Something that has little value but you can’t bear to abandon it.”
Shout out to Baidu for always having the answers to my Chinese language and culture questions when all English browsers have is fear mongering about China as a geopolitical power. *kisses two fingers and raises them to the sky* (I assume that’s where Baidu is, based on the aforementioned fear mongering [JOKE!!!!].)
[4] 周而复始 - idiom literally meaning “the circle comes back to the start.” Like the English saying “to come full circle,” it doesn’t actually have anything to do with literal circle shapes. Rather, it refers to repetitive, cyclical actions and events like seasons. Basically, this is just word play.
[5] 兄弟 (xiongdi) - Another brother appears… Literally younger brother, and that’s how I’ll translate it, to avoid overburdening readers with pinyin to remember.
[6] “Those who stand upright are unafraid of casting a crooked shadow” is a Confucian saying. It basically means that those who haven’t done anything wrong aren’t afraid of appearing as though they have. (As a real life “sorry cop,” I don’t know that I personally agree with that statement!!!!)
[7] More literally, “taking advantage of our reversed thinking.” He’s accusing Li Bin of coming forward because they would never expect the stowaway to come forward. So, reverse psychology.
Sorry for all the consecutive footnotes. BTW, if anyone knows how to hyperlink down and back for footnotes on tumblr please hit me up. I just don’t think tumblr has this functionality at all, otherwise, as a personal footnote lover, I would implement it. I could be wrong, though.
[8]
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I’m actually not sorry about this footnote.
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The author's little theaters don't make it into the official print version and I don't have the raws for them (sadge) so here's my own unofficial little theater:
Fu Wenduo: My wife thought about me today... (/▽\*)。o○♡
Tang Mo: (#ಠ益ಠ)
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