#v. a weapon made flesh

[endeavvor]

sender draws a smiley face out of the blood they spilled :) - but instead it's a <3

That was the thing about power, once you let it in, it consumed you. It ran through every muscle, every vein - replacing blood until you exuded it from every pore. It could be felt from a mile away in its approach, rolling in like a storm. Caressing your skin. Electric, dancing along, raising the flesh in its wake.

The bodies didn't surprise him.

Neither did the gore. It was everywhere, strewn about like a red carpet, regal; and as welcoming as the giant maw of a beast that resided in the forest. Jagged and crooked.

Welcoming him home.

She was crouched in the middle of it all, cloaked in black, offsetting the misleadingly delicate bone structure of her face. From this distance, he cannot tell what is freckle and what is splatter, until she blinks. It is slow, and languid, the dark lashes brushing cheek, streaking the color like paint.

Jim doesn't flinch when she reaches out, though he should, as countless have before. He doesn't even blink. If she wanted him dead, he'd have been struck down the second he crossed the threshold. But he does watch her draw the shape of something, trace it lovingly across the tile.

And that. That is what surprises him.

"I'd say I love what you've done with the place," He drawls, canting his hips to place more weight on the left side than his right. A subtle, but defensive pose. "But reds not really my color."

@fatalhymn

[spaceteenagers]

i'd love to know more about your 101 dragons au!!

Here’s the THING! you picked the ONE au I posted that’s really just like. It just VIBED with me as opposed to like Actually Fleshed out but !! BUT!!! Here’s what I DO HAVE!!

-Gwen also has a dragon, it’s green and small and the dragons don’t get That much bigger then like. a VERY V E RY big dog, but they still breathe fire and are inherently magical in a very specific way.

-Merlin is a magic boy! He does potions and magical medicine, you remember kiki’s mom in kiki’s delivery service? He does that! He keeps the pale blue magic dragon aithusia! They live together in an Urban Fantasy Sixties bachelor flat! One day aithusia wants to go for a walk bc she decided that Merlin is lonely and there’s a green dragon with a pretty girl attached entering the park.

- HERE IS the thing with morgana. It works to make her the kind of villain who like. Resents her old employee/friend who left employment to get married and help with the magical pharmaceuticals and also Pursue her own dressmaking dreams, and now thinks of Merlin as . Just the worst, the villain who STOLE her FRIEND! And she never really tried to keep up with Gwen, and so when they DO meet she’s REALLY passive aggressive about it. Hence Merlin being RUTHLESSLY mean in a song he makes up for three minutes

- morgana doesn’t want a fur coat, or a shawl made of scales, and dragons only have one egg, and she wants to raise the dragon to be a weapon and not. Care for it as an endangered animal who can be just FULL OF LOVE so like merlin and Gwen want to make sure that the egg is a FRIEND not a big fire breathing Monster. So I guess in actuality it’s not 101 dragons so much as it is. three dragons. But still.

Mostly it’s just the FEELING of roger and anita in 101 Dalmatians you know? This domesticity and easy living. There’s a little pile of tea cups on the hearth of merlins potion fireplace. Gwen has a sewing room with crystals and plants hanging in the window with an enchanted thimble on her finger that keeps the needle sharp. The dragons will stomp around the house and there’s the odd scorch mark on the carpets that they can’t get out, but they both signed up for it. The soft music coming out of the radio that has a bleached stain on the side from a potion where Merlin and Gwen bumped into it while dancing. It’s the FEELING!!!!!

[bosstoaster]

Wing au?

(whoops, sorry this took so long.  These are closed, everyone, but this one deserved answering)

I) Shiro has always been proud of his wings.

These days, there’s not much point to wings.  They were little more than an evolutionary leftover.  At one point, wings were useful tools for surviving in the wild, gliding away from danger more than outright flying.  Now, they stayed tucked against people’s backs, only making themselves known in fashion or when anyone accidentally bumped someone with them and had to apologize for spilling their coffee.

Shiro had a phase where he was determined to fly with them.  Nevermind that he’d been eight and they’d been little more than tufts of down.  He’d jumped off of everything he could climb up, from furniture to trees and, one one occasion, he’d nearly made it off the roof.

Eventually, the impossibility of Shiro’s dream settled in, but he never stopped wanting to fly, and he never stopped loving his wings.  They were a sleek black, shiny and resilient, and Shiro kept them well exercised when most people let the muscles atrophy.  While he still couldn’t fly, he could create a gust of wind strong enough to make most anyone stumble, and he’d won more than one stupid teenage dare about gliding distance.

Still, if his wings couldn’t get him airborne, Shiro was going to find a way.

II) The Galaxy Garrison was that way

(Read More Below)

Shiro found the same feeling of thrill in flying a machine that had ignited his young imagination.  It wasn’t quite the same, but it was the closest Shiro could get.  He could soar in simulations, could part clouds with the wings of his plane.  Could look down and see the world, so small below him it was like toys.  Like the rest of his life was playing along, and this was reality.

The Galaxy Garrison was where Shiro could finally spread his wings, physically and metaphorically.  It was where he meet like-minded people, who looked up at the night sky and thought I belong there.  It was where he met Keith, whose drive to touch the sky might have been greater than Shiro’s own - or he was simply less reserved about chasing it.

Shiro pushed forward, fought for opportunity, excelled.

Shiro learned how to fly.  And like his eight-year-old self had always believed, he was good at it.

Looking up at the huge stretch of the night sky, Shiro fell back against the roof, his wings as extended as they would go.  Sitting next to him, Keith absently flapped his own wings, brown and clay-red like the desert that surrounded them.

“I’m going to apply,” Shiro decided, still looking up.  He could easily pick out Mars and Venus in the night sky, but what he wanted was farther than that.  Much, much farther.

Keith hummed, unsurprised.  “That’s a long time to have to keep your wings tucked,” he pointed out, eyeing where Shiro was taking up half the roof with his wingspan.

Rolling his eyes, Shiro sat up and flattened them to his back.  The primaries trailed against the wood of the shack’s roof, sending a shiver through him.  “I’ll manage.  It’ll be worth it.  Kerberos, Keith.  The first people to the edge of the solar system.  I have to try.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed.  “I would too.”  He curled his legs up to his chest, one wing splaying out toward Shiro.  The reddish tips just brushed against the center of Shiro’s back, over where his wings were tucked tight.  “I’ll miss you, you know.”

Shiro laughed softly.  “Getting ahead of yourself.  I’m barely graduated.  Who knows if they’ll want me even applying.”

“That won’t stop you,” Keith replied.  “And they will.  There’s no one better.”

Keith might have been competition, but he was too young yet, still two years out from graduation.

“Seniority matters,” Shiro reminded him, eyes closed.  When Keith’s feathers brushed his own, Shiro pushed his wings back, like a cat leaning into petting.  Feather to feather contact was okay with Keith, especially when he started it.  Skin to skin was a different story.

Rolling his shoulders, Keith glanced back at the cluster of lights on the horizon that was the Garrison.  “Then the brass are idiots.”

No arguments there.  Shiro still smiled, charmed at Keith’s defense.

Finally, he spread his wings further, using his longer wingspan to wrap around Keith’s shoulders like a blanket.  “I’ll miss you too.”

Keith’s smile was bright, for the second before he hid it in his knees.

III) The months-long journey to Kerberos was painful

Shiro had lived in apartments and condos for most of his life.  He’d spend hours in class with his wings shivering and twitching, trying to keep them in as small a space as he could.  But he’d never gone longer than a few days without getting the chance to fully stretch out and flap, if only for a minute or two.

The Daedalus was simply too small to allow that kind of movement.  Even when Shiro wasn’t wearing his bulky suit that covered his wings completely, he could only get about half-open before he was in danger of hitting equipment.

It didn’t seem to bother either of his teammates nearly so much.  Commander Holt reminded him to keep up his exercises, which were supposed to help keep his muscles from atrophying.  He kept his own up every day, but didn’t seem to have the same constant itch to flap that Shiro struggled with.

Matt was even worse.  He barely cared, laughing at Shiro’s mounting frustration.  “You can fly in zero grav back at the Garrison,” he reminded Shiro fondly.  “You need to do it here, too?”

“You don’t feel trapped?”  Shiro had never been claustrophobic, or else he’d never have survived training.  Cockpits tended to be small, especially with anyone with a larger wingspan.

Considering, Matt shrugged one shoulder.  “Yeah, kind of.  I miss going on runs.  But I don’t mind keeping my wings tucked.  I usually keep them there anyway.”

Baffling, but not unexpected.  Most people were that way.  Shiro just didn’t understand how.

When they finally landed on Kerberos and set up the equipment, Shiro closed his eyes and imagined being able to spread his wings.  To hang on the edge of this planet, tips of his feathers as far apart as they could go.  Imagining taking a running leap and pushing off, using the lack of gravity to glide into the stars, momentum going on forever.

Letting go of the childish fantasy with a sigh, Shiro opened his eyes.

And saw a ship above them.

A ship that wasn’t one he recognized.

“Run!”

IV) Shiro has never needed it, but the wings had another benefit: Combat

Gripping the blade in his hands, Shiro’s breath came in short, desperate gasps.  That was two, so this was-

There was a vicious hum as Myzax’s weapon burst toward him, slamming through the rock pillar and throwing up a cloud of dust.

Three.

Ducking around from his cover, Shiro kept his wings tucked, streamlined as possible as he tried to gain ground.  Myzax held out his staff, taking back the ball, which hummed and stayed in place, recharging from the last volley.

That didn’t make his opponent less dangerous.  That didn’t make Shiro closer in size to the monster in front of him.

But he had one trick that Myxaz didn’t.

Right before he got into striking range, Shiro crouched, then snapped his wings out and flapped. At the same moment, he sprang up, getting more height than he had any other time in the fight.

Myzax’s head started to pull up, following the fast move too late.

Shiro was already bringing the blade down, slicing over his face and sending the monster crashing to the ground.  His wings stayed out, giving him a soft landing, and Shiro was able to kick the energy weapon away and hold out his blade in clear threat.

There was a long pause.

Then, the audience erupted into screams and roars, losing their minds.

Shiro had won.  Shiro had won.

And he continued to win. Even when his feathers dulled and failed to grow back, even when stark white lines of scars crossed the flesh, even when his face was sliced open and blood drenched his face and neck.

But once, his armored, sworded opponent was faster than Shiro expected, more devastating with his attacks.  He fought like Shiro, the battle itself a show, the killing blows swift and nearly merciful.

Shiro still won, but the opponent got him in the back, stabbing in and twisting, cracking the fragile bone.

Shiro still won, but his arm hung from tatters of muscle.

Shiro still won, but he collapsed to the dirt floor, bleeding out quickly.

Staring up at the bright lights and listening to the cheers and screams fading, Shiro thought this is how I die.

Until the very bottom of a robe brushed what was left of his wings,and a clawed hand grabbed him by the jaw.

One look at Haggar’s smile told Shiro he would not die today.  But he would want to.

V) Haggar took his wings

Staring in the mirror of Keith’s little shack, Shiro’s stomach flipped.  

He didn’t recognize the man in the mirror.

The deep scar cut over his nose, merely the most visible with his clothes on.  It lengthened his face, aged him, making Shiro wonder just how long he’d been gone.  White bangs fell into his face, brushed back by metal fingers.

And his wings.

His wings were just as mechanical as his left hand.  No longer black and glossy, they were the same silver and dark grey material as the other prosthetic.  Where they’d been one streamlined piece, now there were fewer feathers, jagged and shining.  These weren’t for flying.  They were weapons.

These weren’t his wings.  These weren’t the tufts of down he’d grown up with, that he’d glided with as a teenager, that he’d learned to spread and tuck by turns at the Garrison.  This was like having living swords strapped to his back, a sick mockery.

Stumbling out into the light of dawn, Shiro clutched his metal wrist and stared out, watching the shadows of his false wings grow over the sand.

“It’s good to have you back,” Keith murmured later, when he found Shiro staring.

“It’s good to be back,” he replied, but it was numb.  Shiro wasn’t back.  Not really.  Only pieces of him.  His wings were gone.

Keith swallowed, his clay-red wings brushing over the metal.  Shiro could see it, but he couldn’t feel it.  He ached for that contact, the kind Keith would always allow, but that he could never offer again.

“We need to talk,” Keith said.  “Come back inside.”

In a daze, Shiro followed.

The false-wings tucked against his back, far more comfortable there than the real ones had ever been.  

Shiro had no desire to spread these.

Bonus)

The Black Lion had wings.

Shiro had noticed, idly, the difference in design when Allura had shown them the holograms.  But it didn’t register until this moment.

The Black Lion had metal wings, each of the shining primaries long spread wide.  They were red where Shiro’s were black, but otherwise so similar.  The same in the ways that mattered.

Stepping forward, ringed from behind by the other four lions, Shiro’s heart reached out, and felt another’s meet him there.

The Black Lion roared in greeting.

Shiro spread his wings for the first time since waking up.

It was time for them to fly.

[thevalicemultiverse]

Things You Need To Know About: Valice Madness Returns

Tag: ~V: Valice Madness Returns

Premise: An offshoot of The Forgotten Vows Verse where, on a trip through Whitechapel one day, Victor stumbled upon the shop of one Dr. J. J. Fixxler. Discovering the man was a real magician, Victor eagerly volunteered himself to help with Dr. Fixxler’s experiments and became his assistant. One experiment was the creation of a potion that would allow the drinker to travel into the mind of another. Victor and Alice agreed to test it, expecting for Victor to enter Alice’s dreams one quiet night – but then, Wonderland called Alice back on Pris Witless’s rooftop, and ended up dragging Victor along too…

The breaking-off point for this verse would be Chapter 16 of "Finding You" (July 29th, 1875) -- in this world, Victor and Alice head down a different street after the confrontation with Splatter and end up at Fixxler's shop. Victor has them stop in simply out of curiosity -- Fixxler starts with his usual "buy something!" theatrics, but notices something unusual about Victor's aura and ends up spilling the beans that he's a real magic user in investigating it. Alice is astonished (and full of apologies for Victor as Fixxler confirms that yes, Victor's been to the underworld); Victor is thrilled and asks if he can learn. Fixxler cheerfully takes him on as an assistant -- Alice gets the same deal but demurs from official study until she's got her head screwed on a bit straighter.

A couple of months later, on September 4th, Alice is visiting the shop and talking about how Wonderland's getting more intrusive on her thoughts. Victor remarks that he's always wanted to see it, and this prompts Fixxler to try something he wasn't sure was possible -- a potion form of the spell Travel Into Fantasy. (Normally this requires the participants to hold hands while unconscious -- Alice points out Bumby would probably throw Victor out for good if he caught him sneaking into her bed, especially after the dancing incident.) The potion is made, and Victor and Alice decide to try it out September 7th, after a rough session makes Victor think she could use some company in her head. He downs the potion, and the two prepare to meet up that night when Alice falls asleep.

Except, of course, she collapses in a faint on Witless's roof later that afternoon instead. And Victor, coming out of his session with Dr. Bumby, abruptly finds himself plunging into Wonderland with her.

The two proceed to make their way through the newly-corrupted Wonderland together, occasionally waking up in the real world (Victor has the same tendency to wander as Alice when in this state, as it turns out, but seems to also have a knack for keeping close to her this time) to deal with the consequences. Along the way, Victoria and Christopher White get involved when Victor bumps into them during the Queensland bit and they take his hallucinating self to their hotel (inadvertently separating him from Alice in the real world). When he wakes in their suite, he tells them about Bumby's involvement in Alice's families death, and Christopher agrees to visit Houndsditch to do a little investigating. Bumby ends up mistaking him for a customer and gives him Charlie (warning him "He's not quite ready yet, but if you like him that much. . .") -- Charlie accidentally tells Christopher the REAL purpose of the orphans, which prompts a visit to the police for the Whites.

Meanwhile, when Victor returns to Wonderland, he and Alice get into a fight near the end of the Dollhouse about whether or not Victor should have involved Victoria, and Alice unthinkingly ejects Victor from her mind. She faces the Dollmaker alone while Victor joins the Whites and Harry Hightopp in a real-world raid on Houndsditch. Alice kills Bumby, returns to Houndsditch, and makes up with Victor. To their mutual delight, they also discover Victor's ejection from Wonderland was only temporary -- and that Alice suddenly can get inside Victor's head too. . .

This verse has three distinct time periods/locations threads can be set in:

High Street Wears Degradation: July to November 1875, whenever Victor and Alice are actually present in the real world. Victor's still living in Houndsditch, but now he has a job at Dr. Fixxler's Mysterious Elixxirs, helping Dr. Fixxler advance his magical studies and learning how to cast spells himself. That is, when he's not recovering from wandering around in a daze while his mind fights monsters of all sorts in Alice's Wonderland. . . In the shop, he's happy enough to say hello and maybe recommend a magical help or two for a customer. On the street after the potion incident, though, he's probably a bit more concerned with A) where the heck he is; B) where the heck Alice is; and C) whether or not he's caused a complete nuisance of himself.

Safe In Memory For Now: Post-November 1875, Victor and Alice have gotten their little problem under control, and have married and moved to Sandford to continue their lives in much happier surroundings. Victor often spends his time wandering the nearby woods and fields, drawing, playing piano, and improving his magical prowess. Anybody want a demonstration of Glowing Orb? Simple but effective!

Derail The Infernal Train: Despite the name, this is ANY time where Victor and Alice happen to be in Wonderland. This includes the September-November 1875 time period where Victor and Alice were battling through Alice's mind, plus post-Bumby where Alice is repairing Wonderland and Victor is building his own. He'll be surprised if he finds another stranger wandering around either place -- but not too much. Stranger things have happened. That being said, be warned -- that Vorpal Fork of his may look a bit silly, but it's SHARP.

Common NPCs:

Alice Liddell (throughout)

The Houndsditch Orphans (Abigail, Elsie, Reginald/Reggie, Dennis, Charlie) (throughout)

Victoria Everglot (throughout)

Christopher White (throughout)

Dr. Jeremiah Jack "J.J." Fixxler (throughout)

Wonderlanders (Derail The Infernal Train)

Dr. Bumby (High Street Wears Degradation)

Dr. Wilson (Safe In Memory For Now)

June Thatcher (Safe In Memory For Now)

Bayard the husky (Safe In Memory For Now)

Splatter the Cat (Safe In Memory For Now)

Shipping: Like the main Forgotten Vows verse, strictly Victor/Alice, though for much less traumatic reasons. Victor and Alice have grown a very strong relationship through being linked together mentally and fighting side-by-side, and Victor just can't see himself looking at another woman now. (Okay, Victoria's still kind of cute, and so is her husband, actually, but -- Victorians.)

NPC Ships: Victoria Everglot/Christopher White

Important Facts:

While this Victor managed to avoid the trauma poor Forgotten Vows went through, he still shares a lot of the same quirks -- namely, his terror of total darkness, his dislike of hypnosis, his protective nature (and now he’s got extra fighting prowess to back it up), his enjoyment of a friendly battle, his soft spot for kids, and his love of baking. He also has two of the same pets in Safe In Memory For Now -- Bayard the husky and Splatter the cat.

Victor is even more well-versed in magic than his Forgotten Vows counterpart, having started his relationship with Dr. Fixxler earlier and actually worked in the shop for a time. In addition to the “standard” spell list of Glowing Orb, Spring’s Breath, Imagination Into Reality, Write Across The Miles, Nile’s Blessing, Scrub & Shine, Protection, and (of course) Travel Into Fantasy, he also knows Fall’s Feast (boosts the harvest of food-giving plants), Mend the Shattered (fixes broken objects), Shield The Artifact (protects an object against harm), Flower’s Blush (minor injuries healing spell), Dance Upon The Air (limited hovering and enhanced jumping), and Draw Upon The Earth’s Currents (allows the caster to pull magical energy from the earth around them to boost their own talents). As you might imagine, Dance Upon The Air is one of his favorites.

NPC Alice is lucky enough to have TWO natural affinities in this world -- False Flesh, the disguise spell, like her Forgotten Vows counterpart, and Travel Into Fantasy, "unlocked" by the potion and proving to be strong enough to allow her to travel into other minds at will. (AKA my explanation for her Otherlands powers; on a meta level, I consider her to have both available as a natural affinity, but she usually only gets one.) She also knows all the other spells Victor does thanks to him showing off and teaching her.

Victor’s Wonderland weapons include the Vorpal Fork, the Grim Scythe, the Quill Bow, the Wedding Wine, the Sketchbook, and the Altar Candle. You can read about them here: Arsenal of Imagination This also includes a discussion on what Wonderland abilities look like when Victor uses them, though obviously only ones applicable to Alice: Madness Returns apply to him in this verse. The Vorpal Fork is his most-used weapon, followed by the Quill Bow.

As you might have guessed from that plot summary, this is kind of the “Golden Ending” AU to the Forgotten Vows Verse. Not only does Victor avoid his trauma at the hands of Bumby, he and Alice are able to realize and act on their love sooner -- not to mention get extra magical powers. And Charlie actually ends up legitimately adopted by Victoria and Christopher! Even during the darkest days of Wonderland, Alice and Victor at least can fight side-by-side. So expect open threads in this verse to probably be at least a little lighter in tone than some of the others.

This verse is open to everyone!

[endeavvor]

I am a weapon made of flesh, a sword covered in skin. I was born to kill a king, to end a reign of terror before it can truly begin. | fantasy au

H I S T O R Y is all you left me.

Though his history is largely a mystery, James Kirk was found half dead outside the city and taken in by an orphanage. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and a silver medallion with an unknown family crest around his neck. Surrounded by squalor, the local thieves guild preyed on the children, turning them to pickpockets. Though their spoils were not their own to keep, they were given extra rations so that they did not starve.

A full belly was better than pain, even if the cost of being caught was the loss of a limb.

As he grew older, his quick wit and agile nature turned heads in the guild. They believed his future was bright, save for one fact. He couldn't keep his head down. Something burned in him, just beneath the surface of his flesh. Kirk was quick to anger, and even quicker to fight.

He was on the verge of being tossed in a jail cell, or worse, the victim of a well placed blade until the guild realized the answer to their problem. That they could hone his rage, give it an outlet, and still benefit. He could still be of use to them, not as a thief in a guild, but an assassin in a brotherhood.

A L T P L O T S

The purpose is all encompassing, this can be utilized as a generic medieval alternate reality to a DND type verse.

Due to the nature of his profession, Jim's location is flexible. Though it may initially take him money to invest in a character, it can change depending on the dynamic that is built between them.

I am open to preestablished relationships, but would prefer them to be plotted first.

[endeavvor]

did you actually aim for that?

TREASURE PLANET (2002) PROMPTS

That being the jamb of the door she was swiftly trying to exit through - as if he hadn't noticed the way her hand had snaked out and grabbed an artefact from his shelf. As if he hadn't done the exact same thing when he procured it in the first place.

Jim's posture had gone from complacent comfort, reclined in the chair behind his desk with his feet propped on top and his fingers laced behind his head - to an alert offensive. The knife had been pulled from a sheath in his boot as they returned to the floor and his back straightened. The skill with which he'd thrown it was almost imperceivable, born from years of practice and more than a few scars that danced along the tips of his fingers.

"I did." A warning. "But next time I won't miss."

"Put it back."