#too many tracks that made me gnash my teeth in agony

[beevean]

I fear no man. But that thing...

... it scares me.

Currently replaying OMORI because I'm a masochist with my best friends @beevean and @the-crow-binary providing emotional support lmfao. Even despite how soul-crushingly boring it is, I think we're still having some sort of fun with this clusterfuck of a game

Highlights (and the misc. problems we've managed to spot) so far include:

I already knew that this game's length was detrimental to it during my first solo playthrough, but this playthrough is helping me put into perspective just how bloated OMORI is, even when it comes to an aspect like dialogue. For example, a single conversation between Space Boyfriend and the main cast took us approximately 5 minutes to get through, and it's not like the writing is gripping enough to make us give a shit about the characters or anything they're saying

Speaking of the dialogue, you can just see how hard it tries to be witty and Quirky™ the way Earthbound and indie RPGs like Undertale were. Needless to say, it fails horribly, and the end result of that was me having to fast-track some conversations because they were unfunny and weren't relevant at all

I got unintentionally (!) stuck in White Space for 15-20 minutes because I couldn't find the map the game needed me to find to let me open the door. Beev came to hate the repetitive 8-bit BGM the area had by the time I finally found the map lol. game_design.exe

Headspace's music is so ear-gratingly abysmal oh my god. I can only call it "dollar-store Kirby music" because that's the most appropriate description that comes to mind and I'm pretty sure Lost at a Sleepover gave Beev severe PTSD. Of course, the music of Faraway Town isn't any better: the "track" that plays in the first fight with Aubrey is less music than it is the result of an .exe file being put through an audio player. Sonic Chronicles might have some serious competition in the "worst video game soundtrack" category asdfghjkl

The plot of the Faraway Town segments is so cookie-cutter that it genuinely hurts to sit through. Character writing (or the lack thereof) aside, Sunny and Kel spend half a day loitering around the town and asking Aubrey's cronies where she is even though Kel could've easily gotten that information from Mikhael had he just indulged the latter's delusions of grandeur a little bit

Sunny's fights against his fears are boring. You just need to wait until a particular turn when the game grants you a special skill you use to end the fight immediately. What was the point of designing these hallucinatory monsters if the player doesn't get to fight them at any point during the main route?

Aubrey (ostensibly) swinging at a nail bat at Sunny is not treated with the same degree of realism as Sunny slashing her with a knife. Additionally, Aubrey rides away on her scooter just fine even though she's supposed to be bleeding

Mari's picnic baskets are inexplicably scattered all across the town and fulfill the exact same function as they do in Headspace. So much for realism!

I won two of the fights against Aubrey's goons even though I was trying to lose. gameplay.exe

Sunny is even more unpleasant of a character than I remember. He doesn't even respond to Basil - who is supposedly his best friend - when the latter talks to him and barges into the church despite Kel's advice to wait until the sermon ends

Kel generally seems to treat Sunny like an actual baby, spelling out incredibly obvious things to the latter (e.g. that Sunny shouldn't be carrying a knife or walking in the road because it's dangerous) and making all of Sunny's decisions for him, to the point of not allowing Sunny to return into his own house until nighttime under the pretense of "there's so much to do! it's a brand new day!"

Finally, the "fight" against Sunny's fear of spiders at the end comes completely out of nowhere since nothing triggered said fear during Sunny's adventures outside

Peak game, everyone.

And it's going to get way worse down the line!

[babayagakeanu]

How Will I Know? -part two

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs/reader

Summary: In which the reader finds out that Gibbs is in fact, in love with her too

Warnings: smut, NSFW 18+, oral receiving(female)

It’s been three weeks since your discussion with Gibbs, and he’s been giving you the silent treatment all those 21 days. It was agony, and you felt so small whenever you were near him. His hard gaze towards you made you overthink and regret ever opening up to him like that, and it made it even harder to do your job with Abby. Forensics was hard enough, Gibbs made it even harder when he kept entering the office every hour. 

“Abs! What do ya got?” He says, entering your shared office in a swift motion. You watch the two as they interact, Abby sharing the details of the prints you two had found on the Vic’s jacket. 

“Great job, Abs. Y/n, I expect you to do the same.” Your blood boils at Gibbs’ remark, but you swallow your pride and continue to work on finding DNA matches. Abby looks over to you and grimaces. “He didn’t take it well, did he?” He didn’t at all, you think, acted like a big baby about it. 

You sigh, looking down at your sample and face her. “No he didn’t. He’s been giving me harder tasks and giving me the silent treatment for almost a month.” You swivel in your chair before getting up to continue your rant. “Abby, I thought  Gibbs and I were close. He opened up to me about more than he’s ever opened up to any of you guys, no offense.” 

“None taken!” She responds. “Maybe he’s processing it, giving it some time to swish around in his little noggin. If it gets to a point where you can’t take it anymore, talk to him, y/n. You deserve closure, at the least.” She hugs you, patting you on the crown of your head before getting back to work. The work day proceeds the same, catching the suspect before the two day period runs out. 

———-

It was midnight when you guys had finished, and you and Gibbs were the only ones left at your desks. It’s been hell working in silence; usually you two would find something to talk about, maybe you would ask him about his boat or he would ask you about your latest puzzle. Either way, it was awkward and uncomfortable. 

“Gibbs?” You ask, the waver in your voice instantly detectable. 

He doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “Yes, y/L/n?” He hasn’t said called you by your last name since you were a probie, and that was the last straw.

You shift in your seat, “I think it’s about high time you give me an explanation!” His head snaps up, a glare already storming in his steely blue eyes. “I’ve been honest with you on how I felt about you. Was it the perfect time and place? No. But I don’t regret it. The only thing that I regret about this is letting you leave without telling me the truth.” He’s silent for a moment, trying to call your bluff; only to be found with tears in your eyes and the devastation wreaking havoc on the color of them.

It’s not long until he gets up, reaching to your desk in a few long strides. You can feel your heart hammering in you chest, and the nervousness ate at the pit of your stomach.

“Jethro, are you-?” He yanks you up with one hand, not too rough, but enough to pull you flat to his chest , the warmth of his body seeping into your skin. You smell him; sawdust and bourbon. Smoky with just a hint of manliness.

“I have tried incredibly hard to keep my distance from you because all I want to do is kiss you.” You knew Gibbs wasn’t one for words but even the simplest of sentences behold the deepest meanings. You looked into his eyes, memorizing the image of yourself reflecting back at you, hoping that you will be for his eyes only now on.

“Then kiss me,” you say, craning your neck for him as he dips into your mouth, growling at the taste of your lips against his. His hands travel further, cupping both of your ass cheeks and pressing you into him. You gasp into his mouth, scratching at the base of Jethro’s neck.

“Jethro, please I-“ You whine, backing up into your computer desk, careful of knocking down the computer. “What do you need, babygirl?” You could feel the corner of something digging into your back but you didn’t care. 

“I want you. All of you.” You say, against his lips that were still currently attacking yours.Your hands found their way under his shirt, feeling the warmth and rigidness of his muscled back. His lips leaves yours, dragging a whine out of you from the loss of contact. 

“Meet me at my place, tomorrow evening. Dinner’s on me, you bring the bourbon.” He leaves you a sweet kiss, another following on the corner of your mouth. You pack up and are about to leave when he stops you. “By the way, you were never just a friend to me.”

You sigh, grinning up at him. “You sure you don’t want to come to my place? I can think of a few ways to prove myself to you. Well, more or less, show you.” He smirks, chuckling before playing with the strap of your bra, peeking out from underneath your short sleeve top. 

“Well, as much as I believe you can show me, I also believe in the art of suspense and surprise. So, tomorrow at eight.” 

——————————————————————————————————

The time to go over Gibbs’ place tonight was almost upon you, the hour hand reaching 6:30. You were in the shower, currently listening to every power-up song there was, and scrubbing your skin until it was red. Once you knew that you’ve been in the shower for way too long, you stepped out, wrapping a fluffy towel around you and hurried to your bedroom to pick out your outfit. You didn’t want to dress up to much, knowing that Jethro would most likely be wearing a button up t-shirt and jeans. You settled on a tight black shirt, paired with simple blue jeans. You had opted to curl your hair, letting it fall into loose waves and for your makeup, simple but with a bold red lip. It was 7:30 by the time you were done getting ready, so you packed up the bottle of wine and headed to his his house.

The phone rang a few times before he picked up. “Yeah, Gibbs.” 

“You still answer your phone like that with your significant others?” You say, smiling as you turn down his street. 

“Who said you were my girlfriend?” He asks, the joking evident in the way he chuckles at the end. 

“Well, what I’m wearing under my clothes and the way you kissed me last night said otherwise.” You park your car in his driveway. “Now open up Marine or I’m leavin’.” The phone call ends and the door opens, revealing Jethro, who actually looked like sex on legs. He donned a jean button up, and cargo pants. 

“Wow.” Is all he says, watching as your chest gleamed under the light of his kitchen. “Wow, yourself.” You respond, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “You looking like that makes me wanna skip dinner and get to the fun stuff.” He smiles, looking down at your smirking face. “Well, if you keep talkin’ like that, I might end up being hungry for somethin’ else.” He leads you to the kitchen were he made an excellent dinner of steak, potatoes, and some veggies. 

“Why did I known you were a meat and potatoes kind of guy?” You quip, watching as he smirks at you before cutting into his steak. 

“I’m a simple man, y/n. I know what I like.” You knew that his last sentence has a double entendres, and it makes the corners of your mouth quirk up a bit. 

“I don’t doubt that you do.” You say, and the two of you eat your dinner in a comfortable manner, it felt natural, like you knew that fate had brought you together, but you wouldn’t tell him that, not yet. You still had the fear of losing him, of him pushing you away like he did with his ex-wives, and you didn’t want to ever be referred to as Jethro’s ex-wife. 

“Something on your mind?” He asks, cutting through the silence and shaking you out of your head. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking.” You shrug, forking more veggies into your mouth. 

“Nothing is always something. What are you thinking about?” he puts his fork down and rest his elbows on the table, folding his hands. You sigh, putting your fork down.

“It’s gonna sound embarrassing if I tell you.” 

“No, it won’t.”

“Well,” you begin, the fear in your throat rising. “You know how I feel about you, and I’m just thinking about why I took this job in the first place. I love forensics and working with Abs is just one of the many perks of the job.”

He laughs, “ She is a character.” 

“But, I think the biggest perk there was, is you.” You look up at him, and find him walking up to your chair, and lifting you up from it. “Yeah, I think I’d agree too.” His hands ghost up your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His lips find your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses causing you to moan softly and grab his biceps in an attempt to stable yourself. 

“Jethro...” you mumble, watching as he stares down at you with his steely blue eyes, looking at how the icy blue ring deepens with lust. His lips are on yours in a flash, and something tells you he couldn’t handle not kissing you for long. You match his pace, a kiss full of gnashing teeth and hot breath. Your hands reach up to wrap around his neck. “God, you taste so good, J.” You feel his shit-eating grin on your lips before you pull away.

You grab the bottle of wine and two glasses. “Meet me upstairs in ten minutes.” You wink at him before walking off upstairs, not without adding an extra sway to your hips. 

———————-

The Marine had finished cleaning up dinner in record time, and you had finished putting lotion all over your body, brushing your teeth, and positioned yourself in just your panties on his bed; they were lace, of course. It was when you heard Jethro coming up the stairs that the excitement starts eating at the pit of your stomach. You’re sipping on your third glass of wine when he opens the door and stops in his tracks when he sees you.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He states, his eyebrows raised with a smirk. “you’re looking real pretty right about now.” He can tell your nipples are perked, and are in desperate need of attention. “Well, don’t just stand there with your mouth open, come put it to good use, mister.” He smirks, his hands in his pockets as the tightness in his pants grew, he felt it as he was walking towards you. Shoving his socks and shoes off, he climbs on the bed, taking your wine glass and sipping it with once again, a smirk. Setting your wine glass on the bedside table, he envelops your lips in a fiery kiss, licking into your mouth and tasting the Cabernet on your tongue. His hands find your hips, squeezing as he breaks contact with your lips. He sits up as you climb into his lap, your arms ghosting over his broad shoulders meanwhile grinding into his bulge. 

“I love you,” you remind him, watching as his lips turn into this wide smile, as if the heavens opened up to him, and that would be alright because he could die a happy man right about now. 

“I love you, too.” He kisses you, and maybe you were just in a daze but you felt every emotion in his kiss. As if he was telling you something without actually telling you. His lips trail further down your collarbone, sending chills through your spine and when he reaches your taut nipples, it causes you to let out a high-pitched gasp. His tongue swirls around your teased bud, nipping it a little.

“For years, I’ve dreamt of knowing what was under these clothes of yours, and you know what? My imagination is nowhere close to the real thing.” He lays you down, watching as your hair cascades against his pillow. “I’m gonna show you what it’s like to be with a man, sweetheart.” You giggle at him, but it’s suppressed once he dives into your pussy. Licking and sucking at the small bundle of nerves you know most men can’t find. 

“Oh, Jethro!” You gasp, hands tangling themselves into his short silver locks. “Just like that... just like that” you mumble, his fingers working your tight hole, hot, wet, and tight. You were nearing your release when he releases his fingers and mouth, coming back up to kiss you before shedding off the rest of his clothes. “Wha-” he smirks down at you, before tugging at his cock, entering you  in a swift motion. Your gasp was swallowed by another kiss, but he didn’t move, allowing you to adjust to his larger size. Once you tap his shoulder, he moves, slowly but gradually picking up pace once he hears your tiny whimpers and mewls.

“So fucking tight,” he adds, his sharp and heavy thrusts causing your breasts to bounce, and his large hand moved from the pillow by your head to capture your breast. You left out a high-pitched moan as his thrust sends you into overdrive, nails scraping at his shoulders while you moan out his name like a mantra.

“Good girl,” he moans, getting close to his end as well. His thrusts start to sloppy and with a guttural groan, he comes, spilling his hot seed inside you.

——————————————————-

Your fingers were trailing his face, committing his looks to memory, as if one day you’d wake up and he wouldn’t be there. You’re figuring he’s doing the same since he’s looking at you like you’re the only one in the world who’s made him feel so strongly about someone. There were no need for words, because everything has already been said.

———————————————————————-

Taglist: @minninugget @bandgeek88

[dumbsnakefan]

Thou Shalt Love

Chapter 2: In You I Take Refuge

A/N: This took longer than expected but here it is! Also, if you want me to tag you in the next chapter please let me know!

Hidden away in a small Inn in a town surrounded by only nature, Nea watched over Allen’s prone figure. A thin layer of sweat covered his nephew’s body from exertion. His mind still tried to fight the inevitable of his awakening. Well, Nea supposed that Allen was too stubborn to ever give in so easily. Not that it wouldn’t make a difference in the end. The Noah memories were like an unrestrained storm as they tore into the brain.

Letting out an aggravated sigh Nea said to himself, “Why did that bastard Cross have to die on me like that? He always manages to piss me off.” His eye twitched as he remembered the debts the man had hoisted upon his former host. Despite all his hatred for the General there were too many questions left unanswered. From what Timcanpy had shown him Allen had forgotten everything. What’s more, he had gotten younger. It was like trying to put together a puzzle without most of the pieces.

Had Cross not had answers for that at least Nea could have used his magical skills. That four eyed idiot had done something strange and outside his own abilities. As best he could figure, however, their “separation” hadn’t accounted for the Noah gene. He could laugh if not for the absolute mess of it all.

There was something strange about this memory as well. It was like none of the others as far as he could tell. Allen’s inner Noah was swaddling him in a thorny embrace, like a babe in need of protection. Compared to his own, a destructive thing that had him clawing at his skin in agony, it was soft. Nea felt an urge to pull his nephew close and never let go again. The strangeness of Allen’s memory was oddly fitting.

Lacking any new information to dissect Nea could only move on to other things. Specifically how the Noah family would react to this. Like Nea they had to have felt the surge of a new memory breaking into the world. They would want to pull him away from the dreaded 14th as soon as they could, lest he “corrupt” their new brother. A smile stretched across Nea’s lips as he swore to keep his dearest friend by his side.

What a family reunion they’d be having. If Mana had any real sanity left Nea would have liked to share one last tender moment before the end. Fate and that detestable God were not so kind as to give any Noah such a merciful gift though. They would forever seek to destroy them for being in the way. Should Nea succeed he would put an end to their farce. His brother would be freed at long last.

Keeping Allen far away from this whole affair was very important. The attachment he’d formed with Mana could turn into a crushing weight when the truth was revealed. Those bonds of father and son were already so entangled with tragedy; Nea wouldn’t let another disaster play out. Mana’s insanity could drag them all down if left unchecked.

From what Timcanpy had shown of Allen’s time as Red, his brother had been attached at the hip with him. Nea knew that he’d forgotten it all just by the way he treated his nephew. That didn’t mean that Mana wasn’t drawn to him, oh no. Even when not a wisp of Nea’s presence had been visible the Earl had targeted Allen. Drawn like a moth to a flame, they circled each other. Now under the calming lull of the Noah memory inside Allen Mana would chase him wholeheartedly.

Then there was the other Noah to consider. Road and Joyd seemed to have the strongest bond with Allen of the family. While the others weren’t as close, they all appeared interested when interacting with him. Being a true part of the family could only grow their connection. It made Nea sick just thinking about it. The need to keep Allen close and out of their grubby hands echoed from his own Noah.

Wasn’t keeping Allen by his side the best way to make sure he was safe? Those disgusting roaches that scuttled about the Order were still searching for Allen. Nea had seen how easily they had hurt their beloved comrade. All throughout the past Timcanpy had shown Nea there had been pain. His nephew’s past was a constant spiral of suffering. Taking him away from the world that was so ready to tear him apart could only be a kindness.

Tension had built to a boiling point in Nea’s body and he forced himself to release it. In an attempt to calm down he scouted closer to the bed. A new bead of blood pooled along Allen’s stigmata that Nea wiped away. Unconsciously he pushed into the contact. Warmth bloomed in Nea’s chest. Seeing his dearest friend like this, utterly peaceful, was something he’d truly missed.

His senses registered the Noah memory shift from it’s dormant state and Nea braced for another wave of pain. More blood flowed down from Allen’s forehead as he became restless. The once lax expression of sleep twisted in pain. That’s when the screaming started, scratching Allen’s throat raw. It was hard not to wince at the sheer volume of his screams.

As the screams faded out Nea felt a new presence join them. Annoyed and reluctant to leave Allen’s side Nea turns to face the intruder. Standing before him is the Demon Eye, expression a mask of indifference. Rage so obviously simmers behind the facade but Nea finds it as threatening as a wet kitten.

His smile is packed full of malice as he says, “Didn’t know they’d let you come alone to see me kid.” The twitch of annoyance from Wisely’s reincarnation is so sweet. “You’d think with how easily I killed you last time you would all be a bit more careful.” Bloodlust oozes off Nea in waves, making the air thick with it.

Only when Allen’s scream rise back up does he stop. Nea is so tempted to return to his side to comfort him. The possibility of an attack is what holds him back. Wisely would be more than happy to slit his throat and take Allen away for good; or at least attempt to. There was no way Nea would give him that kind of opening.

“Would it kill you to be nicer, dearest 14th? I’m here to give you some friendly advice after all.” The moniker has Nea gnashing his teeth. He knows that smug bastard is enjoying himself. What an asshole.

Tilting his head Wisely says, “Like you’re one to talk. You really hold the title of world's biggest asshole.” Of course the little creep was reading his mind. Even in his new life Wisely refused to learn what privacy means.

Moving closer to the other Noah, Nea glares down with cold eyes. “Cut this bullshit and tell me why you’re really here.”

“We won’t let you keep him from us.” The brat dares to step closer to Allen and Nea watches him like a hawk for a single misstep. “You can’t hide no matter how hard you try. Someday soon we’ll bring our brother home, where he belongs.”

Something in Nea snaps. Anger grips his heart like a vice. Unwilling and unable to hold back, he shoots towards Wisely. His hand wraps around the bastard's neck. Blood drips from where his fingernails bite into WIsely’s skin as Nea squeezes his windpipe. The choked panic gives him no satisfaction. Painting the walls red with his blood is what he needs now.

His grip tightens, drawing a wheeze from the pathetic Noah. “He’s mine. Allen is mine.” Nea says with unhinged glee. “You can never take him from me. I’ll kill every single one of you if you try.”

It’s only when a burst of stabbing pain sweeps over Nea’s mind that he returns to reality. He let’s go reluctantly, Wisely falling at his feet. Such a shame he couldn’t kill him, but Nea is patient. Now is not the right time to crush Wisely beneath his foot. Later he’ll make sure to make his end painful.

Between satisfying coughing fits Wisely manages to bite out, “Ru-Road said to, guh, give you a warning for old t-times sake.” The venom behind the glare he gives Nea is almost impressive. “Shouldn’t have listened to her. You deserve to watch as your world crumbles around you and you fail.” It makes him laugh, the thought that Nea would lose to the likes of him.

Wisely’s face twists up in amusement. Nea keeps himself in check as he moves towards Allen. Fighting this close to Allen could only end in disaster. Even as the rat bastard patted his nephew’s head he held back. Truly, his restraint was worthy of the highest praise.

“I can’t wait to see what our new brother is capable of. He was already such an interesting human...” The little shit was lost in his own mind as he brushed hair off Allen’s forehead. It’s a herculean effort on Nea’s behalf to stay his hand. Perhaps killing him was worth the risk after all?

However, what Wisley said next stopped him dead in his tracks. “I do wonder why the Earl is already so attached to Allen?” What? No, this can’t possibly be happening; it’s too early. “I knew that you’d have answers. There’s something slipping just outside my reach, no matter how hard I search.”

Desperately Nea snaps his mind shut to leave only unrelated drivel in its wake. He needs to throw the Demon Eye Noah off his scent. Now. “Why don’t you ask Mana yourself?” The wince he gets is a good sign. Raising his voice and stepping into Wisley’s space Nea tells him, “Now get out of my sight.”

Gold meets gold as they assess each other for weakness. Finding nothing, Wisley moves to finally leave them be. With every step Nea feels better. On the threshold of the door, however, he turns back. Body going tense Nea prepares for whatever the creep plans to throw his way next.

“Before I go, you might want to find a new hiding place. There are some Akuma out there who aren’t very good a t playing nice.” An Explosion rocks the building, punctuating his statement. The string of curses that Nea lets out would have a sailor blushing. “Hope you enjoy yourself 14th!” His smug face watches on as Nea fumbles for their things. The Ark gate behind him swallows Wisely up but Nea pays it no mind.

Screams fill the air in a terrible crescendo of horror. With Allen out of commision Nea can only run. Scooping up his struggling nephew Nea makes sure Tim grabs their luggage. Ignoring the town below he calls up his own gate and the three disappear from sight. The humans left behind in that remote town are mowed down with mercy. Chaos creeps around every corner and the scent of blood blankets the air in a red mist. No one will discover the scene of pure carnage until weeks later.

[istrys]

Nothing Ventured Pt 7

Something writhed in the dark, consumed by shadow and hatred. Blackened tendrils rooted deep within the earth began to slip through the cracks of the underground temple that had been dedicated to the Old gods. Now demons and mortals defiled it with their pathetic attempts at battle. Something stirred with absolute contempt and disgust at all life. Their last child had failed to bring them forward from the depths of the hell it was chained to, the Triptych had fall short of their mission. The Dreadlord’s head swung back, demolishing part of the stone wall he was skewered to. He used his remaining arm to tear the frozen spears skewering him and impaling him against the wall. “I cannot die down here… no matter the cost... I must survive! None shall leave alive…!” he spoke as his booming voice echoed, a cloud of bats flashed by him towards the Death Knight and Hunter who had escaped his grasp, if only temporarily.

He leapt forward to the center of the room and slowly turned to the hallway the mortals had escaped down. The rage built within his chest- not at the damage that was inflicted on him, but the audacity of the mortals who might have thought him defeated at their weak and pathetic tactics. Without hesitation, his wings broadened and swooped down with enough force to push all the large rubble in the room against the walls. “I AM COMING FOR YOU MORTA-” he declared boisterously as he took flight- or so he tried before being halted in his tracks. “What… is…?!” he said as he glanced down to his hooves. Void-tendrils rooted him in place and slithered at unseen speeds up along his extremities, rooting him violently in place. The demon roared in agony as its bones and sinew crushed beneath their destructive grasp.

 Umbragos’ unbridled hatred was made manifest, taken advantage by an evil that had been long forgotten. His blood turned against him, sprouting festering tendrils that burned and raked at his flesh. In an instant the Dreadlord was brought to heel, forced to collapse onto his stomach while his legs melted into a single throbbing mass. Cancerous sores traveled beneath his skin and warped his shattering bones, introducing him to a brand of suffering he couldn’t imagine.

 “Did you hear that…?” Ijiro whipped around to strain his eyes in the dark, stopping dead in his tracks once a primeval scream bellowed from the dead demon’s direction. “I thought we killed that demon, yeah? You stabbed that bastard dead center!”

 “... I said… keep moving no matter what.” he replied, glancing back as he moved forward. “Even if I stop.” he continued, “Ellyri- I know it’s not dead. Just trust me. We did not have the strength to defeat it. I walked in knowing this and we were both able to escape with our… ‘lives’. Call it a victory, don’t question it, and escape. That’s our priority now. Now hurry up and get ahead of me. I hear a colony moving towards us.”

 “If you think I’m about to leave you behind, you can forg-” Ijiro’s sentence was cut short as a thunderous roar rattled the ground beneath their feet; the Hunter clung to his rifle tightly, exchanging weary glances with the former Spell-Breaker. “... right, let’s get the fuck outta here.” The cacophony of wings flapping reverberated through the hallway as it grew louder. The noise drew to the point of becoming unbearable as nothing else could be heard. They knew whatever it was creeping behind them would catch up to them soon and the noise was simply a herald of their doom. They desperately tried to keep ahead of the inevitable onslaught only to be greeted by a torrent of bats. Whitstan forcibly tore Ijiro towards him with a rushed and unnecessarily powerful yank as he leaned behind a pillar along the corridor. As soon as the last few bats disappeared further ahead, another insidious roar provoked the Hunter to look around the pillar; a mass of flesh and eyes were struggling to fit through the tunnel, clawing frantically forward with its gnashing teeth. “OH SHIIIT!”

Ijiro grabbed Whitstan by the wrist and ran for his life, reaching the end of the hallway that led to another chamber. Ijiro didn’t know if this led further into the derelict prison, but he didn’t care; moving around the Knight, he slammed the heavy doors shut and slid a metal pipe in between the handles. Moments later the aberration slammed into it, but he knew this would not hold what remained of that Dreadlord forever.

 “What the fuck was that?!” Ijiro huffed, frantically searching his belt for any vials that remained.

 “...” Whitstan was at a loss of words for once. He thought as quickly as he could, speaking the only words that came to mind at the time, “... it wasn’t like that when I left it.” He was as confused as the Hunter was, unexpectedly being dragged by the wrist the whole time. “But this doesn’t change anything…” he said, looking the Hunter squarely in the eyes, “We need to get out of here. Now.”

 “This… thing… will follow us. We can’t let it reach the surface!” Ijiro plucked a small blue vial from his belt, relieved it survived his ordeal with that Dreadlord. If the Death Knight could panic, it was the closest emotion he had experienced by far. He hadn’t considered the repercussions of their escape. If they let that… creature escape for the sake of their survival… how many would be lost? He undoubtedly had to resort to his ‘Plan B’. “Leave. I’ll keep the creature here… if I can.” he stated, drawing his greatsword as he ignored a chorus of protests within his mind, “If not, I buy you and the world a few more seconds. Al diel shala.”

 “If you want to die so badly, I’ll shoot you myself.” Ijiro began mixing his vial with his blood, holding it close to his face while he stirred it. “If you sacrifice yourself to save me, Aszuna is still in terrible danger. We need to level this chamber and trap it down here until the Wardens can move in and clean it up.” Ijiro turned to look at Whitstan intensely. “Do you think you can dab some of this shit on the support pillars around here? I think I have an idea.” A grim expression wore on the Death Knight as a brow perked. “I can… yes. I can reach out against all of them. As long as that ‘shit’ is in the palm of my hand... I can use my dark energy to spread against the pillars… although it’s typically used to drag smaller targets towards me I can cancel the incantation halfway through to keep the marks in place.”

 “Spare me the details, Wilhelm- just do it!” Ijiro tossed the Knight the vial, wearily glancing over at the door. “And don’t drop it! That’s the same shit I plugged that demon’s arm with. It’ll make you pop if you’re not careful!”

 “Noted.” the Undead responded. Blackened limbs spurt forth from the same hand he caught the vial with. A darkened grasped smashed the vial and split the spilt contents across in four different directions via black bolts of shadow energy against the pillars in the room. “How much time do we ha-?” Whitstan couldn’t finish asking before a tentacle smashed through a portion of the door.

“I sssSSeeeEEee yyyYYooOoUUuuu…” A disturbing voice echoed as countless eyes popped in various sizes along the tentacle. Ijiro dropped to one knee to take aim, firing a Light-Blessed slug into the largest eye within the writhing mass; it erupted in a burst of blood and entrails, spraying the surroundings with a corrosive fluid that smelled of sulfur. With a surge of fury the monster rushed forward, spilling its shapeless body out into the chamber. What looked like the remains of Umbragos’ face sprayed discharge at them, forcing them to roll out of the way to avoid it. Ijiro fired again, hoping to get its attention to approach some of the painted pillars.

 Whitstan found himself quickly draining of what energy he had left. He had expended his runes in the previous fight much faster than they could regenerate, which incurred a much longer recovery time. His runic power seemed to be draining faster than he could spend. “Ijiro!” he called out, devoid of other options as he could no longer simply drag the mortal to his side. “MOVE.” he curtly commanded as he dashed for the doorway opposite of the monstrosity.

 “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Ijiro fired again and again, barely keeping the monster’s extremities away from him while he made a mad dash for the exit. The aberration folded around the painted pillars in its advance, hellbent on capturing and possibly devouring them both. It reached out with a speed the Hunter was not prepared for, slapping a tendril onto his back and quickly spreading over his cloak and shoulders. “FUCK!” Ijiro scrambled to remove his armor while the creature lifted him off the ground, fearful of what would happen if even one tendril touched his skin.

 “... Fuck.” It was an appropriate word that the Hunter kept using that the Death Knight mimicked. Near the exit it only took a fraction of a second between looking at the doorway away from this monster back to Ijiro for him to make a decision. He used the rest of his corrupted, undead power to create an immense skeletal arm spurting forth from the ground to grab at the man fighting against his armor. It broke swiftly against the floor as it crashed into existence. The effort costed him greatly as he coughed up the blood that coursed through his veins earlier. The skeletal grasp tore the Hunter’s armor and cloak from him as it grabbed him while simultaneously tearing him to safety. Whitstan fell to one knee as he reassessed the scenario. “I told you…” he uttered as the boney hand brought Ijiro down beside him, “To keep moving, no matter what. I wish you would fucking listen.” he spoke, a river of blood dripping down his chin.

 “I’m a slow learner.” Ijiro huffed, shooting a glance at the Knight; unfortunately for them both, Whitstan was a slow learner too. Without another word the Hunter slammed his shoulder into Whitstan’s chest, taking advantage of his weakened state to knock him flat onto his back. Scooping one of Whitstan’s legs, Ijiro continued to roll until his partner was draped over his shoulders; at first he didn’t realize just how heavy Whitstan truly was, but they were out of time and options, “Come on…” He coughed, struggling to rise to his feet. “We get out together or we die together.” A frosty breath escaped the Death Knight as Ijiro shifted him into a manageable position. “You could’ve just let me die again back there before you decided to carry me.” he commented.

Ijiro refrained from speaking, focused on reaching the exit with every ounce of strength he had left. He glanced up to see the ceiling begin to shake, as each support pillar crumbled it made the chamber more and more unstable. The Hunter swerved left to avoid a caustic spray from the aberration, too determined to glance over his shoulder to see how close it was. He stumbled forward, nearly tripping over a fetid demon corpse in his hurry to escape; the groaning of the floor beneath his feet quickened his steps, and seeing the light of day filled him with determination.

 Istrys perked up and glanced over her shoulder to see Ijiro and Whitstan leap out of the entrance, followed by a thick cloud of dust. The small hill they were on sank several feet down, causing the Necromancer to grab a firm hold on her ghoul to keep from falling flat onto the ground.

 “What the fuck took you two idiots so long?!” she snapped, staring down at the two while they laid flat on their backs. “I’ve been waiting for almost a whole hour!”

“... You…” Whitstan continued, resting on his back, finally on stable soil. “... Don’t want to know what the fuck just happened.” he barely gasped out between breaths. It might have been unnecessary for him to breathe to survive, but it still took breaths to speak. He flipped to his feet. “Is it contained?!” he whipped around to Ijiro as he grabbed his greatsword. “We can’t let it protrude to the surface…”

 “What? Are you talking about?” Istrys chimed in, narrowing her gaze at them. Ijiro didn’t answer while he sheepishly walked over to the entrance, briefly letting out a sigh of relief once he noticed the tunnel had completely collapsed.

 “I think so…” he finally answered, turning to give Whitstan an exhausted thumbs-up. “Let’s get going… I’m sure the Kirin Tor would want to hear of this.”

 “Hear of what? Stop ignoring me!” The Necromancer raised her voice, clearly frustrated.

 Whitstan paused, waiting for an enemy to emerge from the ruins to no avail. After a few long moments, he glanced around and returned the gesture Ijiro had been portraying. He brought his left hand out while his right leaned his sword over his shoulder. A thumb rose from his fist as he shifted his eyes toward Ijiro.

“You know what? Fine. Don’t answer me.” Istrys angrily huffed, unclipping the Horn of Winter from her waist. “Once you two are done bromancing you can join me and Ka’desh so we can leave.”