#you have to block their arrows back at them or take the damage

[plinkcat-gif]

dude skeletons are like easily the worst minecraft mob

[nervousd]

Chapter Two - Settle For A Ghost

→ Infatuation | m.list

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#SYNOPSIS— Out in the forest the recoms find high value priosners

#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, unhealthy obsession, possessive behavior, abuse of power, yandere, dark quaritch, implications of dubcon/noncon, stalking, creepy behavior, possessive thoughts, implications of baby trapping, implications of unwanted pregnancy

#CHARACTER(S)— Colonel Miles Quaritch, Recom!miles quaritch

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Quaritch made his way through Pandora's jungle with his team behind. They were all on edge, tails and ears flapping agitatedly behind them. They raised their weapons as a pack of viper-wolves passed them; their yips and howls echoed. With weapons drawn the Recom squad expected a confrontation with the savages however they were proven wrong. The viper-wolves gave them a quizzical glance before scurrying away. His squad looked at each other in disbelief laughing as they lowered their weapons. Being in a blue body meant they weren’t seen as a threat. Z-Dog looked at Mansk, snickering ❝ No shit❞

They’ve trekked through the forest, slashing and cutting against the vines and roots that blocked their paths. Miles stumbled upon Site 26 a mobile link station for avatars were Jake sully resided alongside with Grace and other limp dick science majors. He alerted his team, giving them orders via hand signals. They’ve checked out the permitter shouting out ‘ clear‘ Miles headed towards the fallen AMP suit with two arrows sticking out. It was covered in vines and the wildlife of Pandora.

He crouched over the damaged suit, fingers turning the fletching of the arrow. His eyes were wide as he stared at the two green arrows jutting out. His ears dropped down a mixture of emotions in his eyes. He shifted his focus to the human remains of Quaritch, that had been left to decompose and rot. Colonel Miles Quaritch died here— gave one last official order demanding you to be buried with him. But the thought alone sickened him. This was the place he was going to bury you in, having given the order to kill once your cooperation with the RDA was finished. His tail flicked in frustration, just what more was he going to take from him? He understood— you weren’t his but you could be.

His ears perked up hearing a high pitched yell out in the distance, voices screaming out commands ❝ With me ❞ his hand briefly touched Lyle’s shoulder, gesturing him to follow his steps. Approaching his squad with his fingers twitching on the trigger angsty to see what got his comrades so riled up. ❝What have we here? ❞ Quaritch gazed at the na’vi carefully, eyes shifting to each hostage.

Lyle smiled cruelly, ❝ Hey, Colonel check it out— four fingers. We got a half breed ❞ he held up the girls palm, gesturing at her fingers. His gaze stayed on her for a second before shifting his focus to the na’vi kneeling on the ground ❝ Show me your fingers ❞ In a defiant action, the boy rose both of his hands flicking him off. Quaritch smirked, eyes crinkling in delight ❝You’re his, aren’t you? ❞ the na’vi barred his teeth, hissing out with his tail lashing behind him.

❝ You’re his, alright ❞ amused as he was there was unfathomable rage bubbling in his chest. He grasped the na’vi by the braid yanking him up. The na’vi let out a painful groan, hissing pathetically. Quaritch gazed down at him with disgust in his eyes ❝ Where is he? ❞ he gave a firm tug on his braid. The na’vi spoke in his tongue causing Quaritch to scowl. His ears pinned back, nose scrunching up in frustration. He uttered the same words in broken na’vi, yanking his braid once again earning a painful cry from the na’vi.

❝ Really? you wanna play it this way? ❞ he questioned frustratingly, having had enough of playing this game. Quaritch pulled out his dagger from his belt, lips pursing in anger. He threw the boy to the ground, walking towards the female na’vi. ❝ Kri! Hey! Hey, don’t touch her! ❞ the human boy shouted, trashing against the grip that held him back. Quaritch peered down at him, head tilting slightly. The boy seemed down right feral, dressing like the na’vi.

❝ What’s your name, kid? ❞ The human boy hesitated briefly, ❝ Spider— ❞ It was like the world stopped, eyes wide like saucers as he stared at the boy—no his son. His ears preened up, the boys words repeated in his head. Was this your son? His? He collapsed on his knees, gazing at the boy with child like wonder ❝ Miles? ❞ his voice was laced with disbelief ❝Nobody calls me that ❞ his son pursed his lips, he was obviously discomforted with the name ❝ I’ll be damned, We’ll I figured you’ll be with your mother — ❞ his voice trailed off

His eyes widen, tail perking up. If his son resided near this territory than wouldn’t you too? You were a responsible woman— you wouldn’t of let your son wander off too far. Even if you had resented him for the pregnancy you still had morals. His tail thumped against the ground a clear indication of his emotions ❝ Where is she? Where’s your mother? ❞ His son scoffed shaking his head, a clear sign of his refusal to answer. Quaritch jaw tightened, nostrils flaring as he stared his son down ❝ Where is she?! ❞ his voice was loud, thunderous so— even his own comrades flinched from his booming voice. His anger had transformed him into a different man—

Yet the boy had remained quiet. ❝ What are we doing boss? ❞ Lyle had snapped him back into reality— a cruel one at that. But no matter, he’ll have the boy singing like a canary of your whereabouts. ❝ Iron sky, Blue one, actual ❞ his fingers pressed against the comm, ❝ Blue one, Iron sky, send your traffic ❞ the response he had gotten back was quick, ❝ We are standing by for extract, over— Be advised we are bringing in high value prisoners ❞

❝ Sit tight blue one, we’re inbound to your pos—❞ Cutting off the mic short, Quaritch rounded up his squad, gesturing them to follow as they treaded back to site 26. ❝ Lyle get me some audio on this ❞ With a few buttons to click on his holopad, he could finally hear the squabbling of his predecessor along with the feral hisses of— ❝ that’s Sully’s woman ❞ Lyle peered at the tablet, agreeing with his colonel ❝ she’s an animal ❞ His face scrunched up in obvious distaste, forwarding to where Jake had fought his predecessor on this very ground they stood on ❝ Give it up Quaritch ❞

The tablet zoomed in on Jake, ❝ It’s all over ❞ Jake gestured towards the obvious lost the humans took. ❝ Nothings over while I’m breathin ❞ His ears pinned back, almost wincing as the fight went on. Two arrows pierced Quaritch— the video log had ended abruptly. Lyle took the tablet from his hands, peering at the colonels dazed look ❝ Yeah there’s nothing else after that ❞

Quaritch leaned down picking up his predecessor skull, inspecting the three scars that ran through his skull. He grimaced— if he didn’t know any better it was like he was staring at his own future. Will his fate turn out like this too? Left to rot in this jungle, decomposing with predators nipping at his corpse. His ears flattened against his skull— no that won’t happen to him. His predecessor failed to kill Jake sully. He was weak— he was Human.

Lyle picked up the fallen dog tag on the floor ❝ want us to recover these remains? ❞ Quaritch brought up the skull at eye level gazing at it with intensity. Putting the slightest amount of pressure on the skull was enough for it to crumble. He swiped off the leftover debris from his palms ❝ No ❞ his answer was short and brief, there was no point in dwelling about this.

The sun was setting fast, night drawling in; bringing in the horrors that Pandora can bring. Yips and howls had everyone on edge, the recoms took a formation, eyeing the forest with hostility. Drizzle poured down on them, pelting on the ground leaving an ominous sound. Soon the drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. The atmosphere around them was tense, each Recom was on edge. And for a good reason too— ❝ Shut up! ❞ without a second to lose the Recom was shot dead with a green fletching arrow. He dropped on the ground with a loud thud, ❝ Contact na’vi! ❞

Bullets shot at the tree bark , splinters flying off by the rapid fire. The na’vi boy grasped onto a canteen and ripped out it’s pin, green smoke erupting from the metal can. The Recom let out a pained scream as the na’vi sunk down its canines in their flesh. Out of pain they let go of the na’vi boy, cradling their injured arm. Another green fletching arrow pieced a female Recom, her body fell flat on a fallen log. Quaritch retreated with the rest of the recoms, grasping onto Walker’s vest he brought her down to him. To his dismay she was dead on impact,

His eyes zoned in towards the arrow, the green fletching mocking him. His ears tipped back an unrecognizable look crossed his face. His canines flashed, ❝ Is that you Miss Sully? I’ve recognized your calling card. Why won’t you come on out? You and I— we’ve got some unfinished business ❞ he called out behind the tree, gripping onto his gun tighter ❝Demon! I will kill you as many times as I have to! ❞ she yelled back at him with venom laced in her voice. ❝ I see you and the Corporal have been pretty busy, haven’t you? Dropped yourself a whole litter of half-breeds ❞ Shots continued to be fired, bullets whizzed through the air.

Quaritch crept forward silently, pouring out bullets, he was on their tails and he refused to go back empty handed. Quaritch fingers hovered over the trigger, eyes narrowing on Miles running away with a female na’vi. The gun shot rang out with a loud, Boom! momentarily blinding everyone in the process. His ears perked up hearing a painful moan coming up further, he slid across the mud. Quaritch cradled the injured boy to his chest, gimmick and blood coating his human flesh. He was clearly wounded and even showed signs of distortion. ❝ Fall Back! ❞ he yelled out

He threw the boy over his shoulders, retreating with his squad. Ahead of them was the their designated carrier, strapping the hook against his vest he was lifted upwards.

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The doors shut behind him as he inhaled through his respiratory mask. He leaned down placing both hands on his knees, grimacing as he stared at the boy, he had blood trickling down his nose, rocking his body underneath the table. His footsteps led him to the other side of the table, crouching low; to his utter surprise the boy lashed out and leaned towards the opposite side heading towards the door. ❝Woah— Woah! Easy tiger— easy ❞ with his Supreme agility and strength it wasn’t hard to stop Miles from taking another steps further.

He pressed his palm flat against his chest as Miles continued to trash and fight against him. He spat and hissed at him like a feral cat before ultimately stopping his actions. His strength was no match to that of a na’vi let alone someone with combat experience. Quaritch withdrew his hand back, taking a couple of steps back. His hands were raised in the air hoping to appear non threatening to the boy ❝ We good? ❞ Spider scoffed, he turned his head away refusing to make eye contact with him. Quaritch kneeled down on one knee, ❝ Kid, you got heart. Those science pukes leaned on you pretty hard. But you gave them nothin’. I respect that ❞ There was a brief silence along with the clinking of metal, Quaritch hesitated briefly before outstretching his palm. There in the center of his palm was the dog tag of his predecessor ❞ I thought you might want this ❞

Silence once again, it seemed the boy was intent on remaining quiet. Inhaling through his nose, Quaritch was fed up with his refusal to speak— hell at least acknowledging him would at least count for something. He took the boys hand and slapped down the dog tag on his palm. He curled up his hands into a fist, giving a squeeze. ❝ That’s Colonel Miles Quaritch— Deceased, Killed in Action ❞ he gestured towards the dog tag.

Spider threw the tag across the room even daring to make eye contact with him as he did it. As a show of defiant towards him. His lips quirked up in amusement, outstretching his hand towards the discarded tag he picked it up, thumb brushing agaisnt the cold metal. Perhaps maybe you would want it. He dared himself to even think of you wearing it, a ghost of a smile curling up his lips. He turned back towards spider, ❝ I’m not that man but I do have his memories enough to know that well— he wasn’t always a good man but that’s not an apology to the na’vi ❞ he settled himself beside him.

❝ I’m not your father. Technically you and I, were nothin’ to each other but I can help you. I can get you outta here. I’m not gonna ask you to betray Jake Sully. I know you’ll never do that. You’re loyal and I admire loyalty. Just ride along otherwise, I gotta give you back to the lab coats. ❞ It seemed his words had managed to pierce into the boys head, had finally managed to wrap his head around his situation. He nodded slowly, agreeing to his proposal. Quaritch cleared his throat, palms rubbing down his legs in agitation ❝ I gotta ask— your mother, how is she? ❞

It seemed his words had managed to cause discomfort to the boy, he hesitated before mumbling incoherent words under his breath. Quaritch frowned, ears twitching, he didn’t quite catch his words ❝ repeat that again for me ❞ Spider rolled his eyes, ❝ I don’t know ❞ Quaritch looked at him in bewilderment ❝ You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know? ❞ Spider shrugged, ❝ I don’t know where she is ❞ A blank emotionless expression swept over his face as the realization of his words sunk in.

Just where could you be? Why wouldn’t you be with his son? You wouldn’t abandon him would you? Impossible— no. You were overjoyed to be pregnant with his child. He was sure of it— thinking back to the memories that were gifted to him he remembers your tear stricken face. They were tears of joy he was sure of it. He doubt the boys words were true, choosing to lie instead of telling the truth. Nostrils flaring, he stood up from the table, fist clenched at his sides. ❝ Don’t worry I’ll find her— for the both of us ❞

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━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

[lillotte17]

The Rook

AN: Mildly endgame spoiler stuff if you are really paying attention. I have no idea how far I think I'll get with this, but the idea showed up and kicked down my door to make me write it, so here we are!

~

“Why are you always arranging clandestine meetings for us in seedy bars that stink of piss and stale beer? They never go well.”

“Hey now, I didn’t pick this one!” Varric laughs as they step out the door and back into the damp streets of Minrathous. The buildings in this part of the city are shabby and moldering. Covered in peeling paint and bright with spellwork glinting off the dark cobblestones. The Archon’s Palace floats ominously above their heads like a circling vulture. “This one was all Neve’s idea.”

“You never take me anywhere nice.”

“Well, I’m sure Dumat Plaza is going to be downright cozy.”

“Let’s hope that it’s not too far from the place where Solas is conducting his ritual.”

“Fingers crossed,” Varric hums in agreement. “I’m a little surprised that it’s not out in some crumbling ruin somewhere.”

“Relieved that you don’t have to go tromping through the wilderness again?”

“You’re not wrong,” he huffs, “But I was actually thinking about collateral damage. Minrathous is huge, and the last plan Solas had to bring down the Veil leveled a mountain top.”

His companion stops walking abruptly.

“…Rook?” Varric calls back to them.

They don’t respond, lost in thought. The rain soaks through the dark wool of their hood. Silence stretches our for a few moments before the dwarf finally walks back and places a broad warm hand on their arm.

“Hey. Don’t worry too much, alright?” he says, “We’re going to get there in time to stop him.”

They nod their head once. Tug their hood down a little further. Adjust the mask covering the entirety of their face.

“We should find Harding. We need to move fast if we want to rescue your detective from those Venatori. The Veil feels…strange.”

“I’ll take your word for it, kid.”

They don’t get far before things to go sideways, as they always seem to.

The Archon’s Palace begins targeting people from above. A handful of roving spotlights, possibly searching for them. The Veil buckles, snaps, and finally rips wide. A dozen or more rifts, not unlike the ones the that had ravaged the South a decade ago, blink into existence across the Minrathous skyline. Which means demons. A lot of them.

“Demons. Ventatori. Fade rifts. Feeling nostalgic yet, Varric?” Rook grunts, landing a shot at the dead center of a despair demon, watching its essence shatter and disappear into nothing.

“Yeah yeah, so long as no one asks me to go digging around for any more of those creepy Fade shards again, I’ll fight all the damn demons you want.”

They find their wayward scout a few blocks later, protecting civilians. Red hair and freckles. Always ready to pull out a cheery smile or a nocked arrow, depending on what the situation called for. She’s already got the lay of the land, despite being raised out in Fereldan farmlands, and easily begins navigating them through cramped Tevinter streets.

“You know, I’m honestly surprised that this isn’t more of a regular occurrence in Minrathous.” Harding pants out after another bout of fighting.

“Oh, demons an cultists are everyday fare in this city,” Rook confirms with a dry laugh as the last enemy falls and the way clears for them to press forwards once again. “But I think there’s something to be said for the scale of the current crisis.”

The allegedly imperiled Neve Gallus is waiting for them in Dumat Plaza, calm and cool as the barrier of ice she had thrown up to halt the Venatori cultists who had tried to drag her off.

“Varric. Harding. Not the worst timing.” Neve greets, “And..?”

“Rook.” They reply with a nod of their head.

“Like the chess piece?”

“One of the strongest pieces on the board. Tends to think in straight lines, though.” Varric chuckles, giving them a good natured pat on the back.

“Someone around here has to.” Rook grumbles in reply, although they don’t sound mad about it.

“So, it’s one of Varric’s nicknames?”

“Seems to be.”

“But it’s how you’re introducing yourself to people?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Hm. Rook. I think the Viper’s mentioned you before. You’re one of the Shadows?”

“I’ve done a fair amount of work for them. But they’ve asked me to keep some distance, for now. Apparently the way I free slaves is too conspicuous.”

“I see you’ve picked up some of Ashur’s charming fashion sense.”

“Can’t let the Orlesians have all the fun.”

“I hate to interrupt the witty banter, but we do have an ancient elvhen ritual to be stopping.” Varric interjects.

“Sorry, never could resist a good mystery,” Neve grins.

“But you have a lead, yes?” Harding presses, full of hope.

Neve beckons them with a wave of her hand, turns on her heel, and begins whisking them down a dark alley, through another building and out into the city proper again. An ominous rumble shakes the rafters of the roof above them. The human mage pauses for a moment to glance back at them, dark eyes brimming with questions and concern.

“You’ve seen him?” Rook asks as they trot up beside her. “You’ve seen Solas?”

“No, I haven’t. Not in person.” Neve shakes her head. “But I did find hints of old magic. Very old. Similar to what you get in elvhen ruins.

She stops walking long enough to point with her staff.

“I traced it to a building beneath Our Lady of Victory. That’s where your man is hiding.”

“Best news we’ve had all night.” Varric sighs. “Let’s get there and stop him before this ritual gets any worse.”

“Worse?” Neve gapes. “This ritual is already drawing more power than I’d expect from a dozen mages. You told me he was working alone.”

“I also told you he was an ancient elvhen god.” Varric sighs.

“And he’s not working alone.” Rook tells her plainly. “He’s got his own fanatical followers, just like the other gods. But he tends to keep them at a distance, when he can. Reduces the odds of betrayal.”

“Who would have thought that the god of lies would have trust issues?” Harding quips.

“An elvhen god,” Neve repeats, tightening her grip on her staff. “Well, whatever he is, he’s causing trouble in my city. We’ve got to stop him- Let’s go.”

“That’s the idea, Slick.”

The group continues on, fighting cultist mages and demons as needed. Stepping over far too many corpses. Winding their way down to the canals before finding the passage to the building under the statue Neve had told them about.

“Looks old,” Harding notes, pausing long enough to study some of the paintings on the roughcut stone walls, “I wonder how long this has been here.”

“Solas has been around before Minrathous itself, who knows how long this has been here.” Varric hums.

“Tevinter was built on the ruins of Elvhenan,” Rook says, “Bones upon bones. For all we know, this could have existed before the fall of the empire.”

They stop beside Harding.

“That looks like… A magister? And sentinels? The Dread Wolf howling at the Black city locked behind the Veil, maybe?”

“He never could resist the urge to paint cryptic shit on the walls.” Varric grumbles.

“So, you think this is Solas’ hideout?” Neve wonders. “Seems pretty sparse down here.”

“One of them,” Varric replies. “If I had a sovereign for every bolt hole of his that we’ve tracked down over the years, I could retire to Rivain and live like a king.”

“You’re the Viscount of Kirkwall, Varric. And the sole heir to a powerful family in the dwarven merchants’ guild.” Rook laughs. “Don’t try to tell me you’re in this for the money.”

“No, but the money would still be nice.”

“The next time we send an update back to the Inquisition, I’ll make sure to add a note saying that you’re expecting a bonus.” Harding grins. She tosses Rook a wink. “I know some people.”

“Hazard pay for everyone!” Rook cheers.

The Tevene detective nudges a pile of chains on the floor with the toe of her metal leg.

“Broken. Looks like Solas has been freeing slaves.” She notes with a hint of surprise.

“Solas hates slavery.” Varric tells her. “One of the few things we actually agreed on.”

“Solas said the other gods were tyrants who oppressed his people. He was trying to help them.” Harding explains.

“By starting a rebellion, among other things.” Varric agrees. “And everything went to shit, as usual. That’s why he locked them away behind the Veil in the first place.”

“You mean he created the Veil?” Neve asks.

“Yup.” Says Varric.

“Shit.”

“Yup.” Rook echoes.

There really is not much down here beyond more crumbling ruins, though. No furniture. No books. No ancient elf trying to end the world.

“Is that a light up ahead?” Rook wonders.

“Feels like magic.” Neve confirms.

“I don’t think I see a way to get to where it’s coming from though…” Rook trails off.

“Over here!” Harding waves them over to a crack in the wall just wide enough for them to all press through.

“I can’t- imagine- Chuckles- squeezing his big- bald- head- through this thing every time he came down here.” Varric grates out as he wriggles his way through, somewhat short of breath. “If Bianca got a scratch, I’m never speaking to him again.”

“More paintings,” Harding points out, ignoring the other dwarf’s complaints.

“Looks like the ancient elves were binding dragons,” says Rook thoughtfully.

“That sounds bad.” Harding winces.

“Are we surprised that the evil gods were doing evil shit?” Varric scowls.

Another room. A desk this time. A few small magical artifacts. A work station. A narrow cot with a thin blanket and -inexplicably- a mandolin. Everything cold, surrounded by piles of dust and rumble.

“This place is just…sad.” Rook decides, somewhat subdued, reaching out to pluck a single string on the abandoned instrument. Their fingers brush across the blanket beside it before pulling away.

“Hey, don’t feel too bad for him,” Varric says bumping their elbow with his own, “Solas chose to live like this. Probably as some form of penance. Although, I personally think he just enjoys being miserable.”

“I was also expecting a bit more from an evil villain’s lair,” Neve smirks. “Something with a touch more romance, perhaps. Panache. A bit of drama.”

“Well, once we talk him down, you can give him your scathing review on his living arrangements.”

“I’m not sure I have much room to talk, truth be told.” She laughs.

“He doesn’t need to know that.”

“I think that the source of the magic Neve felt might be through that door,” Harding calls out, pointing at the only visible exit to the room they are standing in, “I can see the same light from earlier at the bottom.”

“Excellent scouting, as always, Harding,” Rook praises, striding over to pull the door back on its hinges. “Not even locked. The Dread Wolf is getting sloppy.”

“Or he just figured that it wouldn’t matter if anyone managed to reach him at this point.”

“We are thinking in positives, Varric.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

“Ugh.” Neve makes a face. “Why is this room flooded?”

“The building is old, and we were near the canals?” Harding suggests.

“Just be grateful it only goes up to your ankles, Slick.”

“An elvuian,” Rook breathes out. Tipping their head back to see the whole of the enormous glowing mirror covering the wall along the right side of the room.

“A what?” Neve blinks in the blinding blue light.

“More old elf shit.” Varric sighs.

“They’re kind of like magic doorways. They can transport you almost anywhere.” Harding explains.

“Solas uses them to get around. Half the reason keeping up with him has been such a pain in the ass.”

“He must have gone through it,” Rook says, their hands balling into fists at their sides. “Alright, everyone be careful stepping through. We don’t know where this connects to.”

“Do you think he’s not actually in the city?”

“Let’s find out.”

It’s still raining on the other side, but now there are open skies and grass underfoot. A heavy line of trees surrounds the jagged elvhen ruins looming up ahead of them. The tops of eight enormous statues peer out from the crumbling walls, each bearing the symbol of one of the elvhen gods. The Creators.

Varric’s boots squelch loudly in the mud. He turns and makes a face at Rook.

“Well. So much for not having to tromp through the wilderness.” He grouses.

“I know, I know,” Rook laughs, “Drinks are on me later, alright? Just try to think of your favorite terrible ale instead of the water leaking into your shoes.”

“You always know how to cheer me up.”

There were demons here, too. Driven mad by the realities of the world they had been pulled into by the Dread Wolf’s ritual. Even so, it does not take the team long to reach the source of all the magical turmoil.

A lone elf standing at the top of a crumbling set of stairs, bathed in the glow of his own summoned power. Taller than most elves of this age, with broad shoulders and a regal bearing. His back is turned to them, lost in the intricacies of the spell he is weaving.

“So, do we have a plan here, or what?” Neve wonders, sizing up the elvhen mage with mild apprehension.

“…I’m going to talk to him.”

“Varric-”

“It’ll be fine, Rook.”

“But-”

“Solas is doing this because he can’t see any other options.” The dwarf says firmly. “So, he needs someone to sell him a way out. I’m a businessman, and a storyteller, and a friend. I’ve got a reputation to uphold for being irresistibly charming. And…if he won’t listen to me, then he’ll hear from Bianca.”

He pats the crossbow in question while the others exchange worried glances.

“I could take the shot from here,” Harding offers, frowning with uncertainty. “It’s clear. I don’t have to aim for anything vital, I could just-”

“No.” Varric insists, shaking his head. “You’d just piss him off, and if this comes to straight up fight, we’re all dead.”

He turns to walk up the stairs when Rook snags him by the elbow.

“Wait, Varric. Maybe-”

“You’re my second in command, remember, Rook?” He says gently, placing his large hand over their much smaller one. “That means you need to watch out for the team while I take care of this. I promise, if it seems like things are going south, I’ll yell for you. Alright?”

They take a half step closer, bowing their head, the smooth silver of their mask edged in blue from Solas’ magic.

“I don’t like it.”

He smiles.

“I know, kid.”

“I just feel like… Like we’re missing something. Like it can’t possibly be as simple as ending the chase like this after all this time.”

“Not every story has to end with some big flashy climax, you know.”

“All of yours do.”

“Only the ones I want to sell.”

“Think you can sell this one?”

“Won’t know until I try.”

He pauses for a moment, taking a long look at them. Short. Scrawny. Soaked from head to heel.

“I know it’s not what you want, but trust me- This is the right call.” He says quietly. “If we’re wrong about this- If I’m wrong about this- Someone has to be ready in the wings to stand against whatever magic crap Chuckles pulls out of his ass. That’s you. It’s got to be you. You know that.”

Rook takes a deep shaky breath. Nodding slowly in acceptance. They reluctantly let go of his elbow.

The dwarf turns away and walks up the stairs. Magic buzzes and crackles through the air around them, making it difficult to catch his words. However, the figure standing above them stills in apparent surprise for a moment before deciding to stop and face his former friend.

Solas has sharp features. Distinct, even from this distance. Untouched by the passage of time.

He looks tired.

His expression is fluid for a few seconds. Pleasure melting into mild annoyance before finally settling into something firm and unrelenting. Stubborn.

Bianca shatters in Varric’s hands, tumbling down the stairs in fragments of polished wood and finely crafted metal.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Harding complains.

“It doesn’t seem to be going very well.” Neve Frowns. “We need to do something about this ritual while Varric has him distracted.”

Rook glances around for solutions. Nothing seems to be immediately forthcoming. Then they raise their arm, pointing to the far corner of the ritual site.

“There. The scaffolding.” They say. “The statue on that side is barely standing on its own. If we could bring it down…”

“Would that kill him?” Harding asks.

“I…I don’t think so. But if his concentration is broken, it should at least give us some more time.”

“We can’t topple it from here.” Neve frowns. “Too far. Even for one of my spells. And to get over to it, we’d have to walk through raw magic. That’s suicide.”

“Someone’s got to keep the demons off of Varric while he’s dealing with Solas, too.” Harding points out. Her brow knits with worry as she stares at Rook. “Are you going to go anyway?”

Rook’s gaze seems to move from the statue, to Varric’s broad shoulders, and back again.

“I… No. I have to- I told Varric I would watch his back. I can’t just leave him here.”

“Well, I’m not just going to stand around and wait for some ancient elvhen mage to ruin the world,” Neve scowls, striding away at a clipped pace.

“Neve, wait- Oh, void take it all!” Rook curses, “Harding, go with her! Get her there safe. I’ll keep an eye on these two.”

“You got it!”

“Nothing crazy, understood?” They call after the dwarf as she races to catch up with the human mage, “I want everyone to walk away from this in one piece!”

The scout raises a hand in acknowledgement. The gesture does little to soothe their nerves. One or two demons try to pick a fight, but not enough to even warrant a decent distraction from their own thoughts. They begin to pace, trying to get a better view of the elf and the dwarf as they continue their argument while still staying out of sight.

They wish they could hear what they were saying.

They hear it when the statue falls, though.

Everything afterwards seems to flow over them in slow motion. Solas yelling in anger and surprise. Varric reaching to grab something from his hands. A scuffle. Varric falling, his body heavy and loose as it follows Bianca to the foot of the stairs. The Veil rips wide, two dark towering figures looming out of the bright blue-green depths of the Fade.

Rook screams. Wordless with rage and guilt and grief. Rushing out into the open to throw themselves to their knees at their friend’s side. There is a dagger, strange and humming. Deep. Too Deep. Too much blood.

They raise their head, and see Solas looking at them.

There are tears streaming down his face.

Something crackles. Thunders. Blasts out wide and bright and searing.

Rook flies backwards like a puppet with cut strings. Their head collides with stone. Their vision swims. Their ears ring. A strong arm wraps around their waist. Somewhere in the midst of all of it, they think they might still be screaming. Or someone else is screaming. Or crying. Something is very wrong.

And then everything is black.

~

In the blackness, there is a face. Then a figure. Proud and tall. Surrounded by shadow and queer grey light.

Solas.

Solas, standing in ruins and rubble. Separated from them only by a chasm and the fury written plainly on his face. He does not move to strike them, however. He does not draw his magic to his hands to blast them with a spell. He simply snaps and snarls at them like a wolf caught in a trap.

“You have no idea what you have done.”

Rook gets to their feet, limbs sore and knees shaky. They dust off their pants. Rub their hands a little, testing the strength of their left wrist.

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of what I’ve done, actually.” They reply casually.

“So, it was your intention to release Elgar’nan and Ghila’nain out into the world, where they may freely blight the innocent and raze whole cities to the ground?” He growls out.

They recoil half a step, and their form flickers briefly. A flash of pale hair, and the scent of lavender. Solas shakes his head, as though clearing away the remnants of a dream. When he looks at them again, their stance is strong. Defiant. They are small and dark and sharp as a knife. The silver of their mask cutting through the gloom around them.

“My intention was to stop you from tearing down the Veil.” They gesture to their surroundings. “A feat I believe you once said would ‘burn this world in raw chaos.’ And since we both seem to be standing somewhere in the Fade, and you aren’t running off through another eluvian, I’m guessing that I must have succeeded. You were stopped, and the world wasn’t destroyed.”

“I was not destroying the world.”

“Yet.”

He takes a sharp breath in through his nose.

“When you disrupted my ritual, the magical energies pulled me here, into the Fade.”

“I think that sounds very fitting.” Rook says, folding their arms across their chest. “If I got caught in the same blast, then I guess we’re going to be neighbors. I’ll bake you a pie.”

“Your physical body is merely unconscious.” Solas sneers, waving a hand dismissively. “But you shed a few drops of blood at the ritual site. Enough for a tenuous connection.”

“Ah. So, it’s blood magic, then.”

“Firstly, I abhor the use of blood magic.” Solas barks, nearly to the point of shouting. “Secondly, had I the power to control you, I would have already used it.”

Rook cocks their head to one side as they regard him in silence for a moment.

“…Magic is magic, it matters only how it is used.”

Solas blinks at that.

“Excuse me?”

“That was what you told me, wasn’t it?” They ask, reaching up slowly to pull away their mask and lower their hood. Soft curls pulled back into a long simple braid. Vallaslin. Eyes nearly as haunted as his own. “When we were talking together at Haven…all those years ago.”

It is his turn to stagger back a step, almost as though he had been struck. The anger in his face chased away by a sudden flood of sorrow. He shakes his head again, as though it will somehow change the visage of the person standing before him.

“Hello, Solas.”

“Vhenan.”

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

Some Pearlizzie/shadowmoon (platonic or romantic is up to you ^_^), possibly both lamenting about being betrayed by Cleo lol /nf

Also hope you have a nice day!! 💖

I LOVE SHADOWMOON SO MUCHH they mean sm to me. and ty fluff! i hope you have a nice day as well ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ (this drabble can be found here on ao3, and be sure to vore mumscott at @scottsmajorshipbracket so i can write things for you!!)

—

Pearl wiped the sweat from her brow as she rammed her sword through the last skeleton.

The creature out a final hiss as the rigid end of her blade pierced through its ribcage, collapsing into a pile of bones before her feet, clattering as it hit the bone.

The sound of Joel’s shrill shriek came her right. Pearl turned her head just in time to see him diving behind a tree, narrowly avoiding the arrow that embedded itself in the bark beside his head. She couldn’t help the smirk on her face. This was her chance.

Quickly, Pearl crouched down and snatched an ivory remain, pivoting the other way. Clutching the cadaver in one hand and her sword in the other, she bolted.

The uneven terrain tugged at her boots, tripping over edges of blocks as she stumbled forward. Feather-tipped arrows whistled past her head, while the guttural snarl of spiders grew louder behind her. A surge burst of adrenaline coursed through Pearl’s veins, pushing her to go faster.

With the thumping of footsteps from behind, Pearl didn’t need to turn around to realize Joel was on her tail. 

Despite the feeling of her palms slipping from the sword’s hilt and her calves throbbing, Pearl’s smirk grew wider at the sight of twin pink buns that contrasted their dark surroundings. 

In a blink, Pearl made it to Lizzie, sword clanking onto the ground while she hunched over and rested her hands on her knees. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she huffed, body trembling. When Pearl lifted her chin, she was met with the sight of Lizzie, who wore an amused look while she cradled something in her hand.

“You did it!” she laughed, leaning against the crafting table. She looked down to her palm, using a finger to count each dark speck that rested on it before nodding. “The bonemeal should be enough.”

Lizzie took the bone from Pearl and set it on the crafting table. Her hands moved her chest, resting over her heart. A soft glow began to pulse beneath her fingers, growing brighter until a radiant, crimson heart was materialized, floating gently in the air.

Cupping it with care, Lizzie looked up at Pearl, the glow reflecting in her azure eyes. She stepped closer, extending her hands until the heart hovered just above Pearl’s chest. As it touched her, it dissolved into a warm, spreading light.

A surge of vitality rushed through Pearl, chest swelling with renewed strength. Lizzie’s delighted expression mirrored her own.

She laughed. “That was amazin’!”

Lizzie then got to work on the tilled soil by the riverbed. She crouched and carefully placed each seed in the individual holes she poked in the dirt. When she finished, she covered the them with the pile of dirt she kept to the side,  patting it to even it out.

Over her shoulder, Pearl caught sight of Joel in the distance. He grumbled as he stalked away, a bone of his own held in his hand. She would cackle at his sulking if she weren’t so out of breath.

As Lizzie scooped water from the river to moisten the soil, she glanced back at Pearl, her tone light and teasing. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually pull it off. I mean, it would result in taking more damage.”  

Pearl rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a grin. “I didn’t slay a skeleton just for your heart. A helpful it may be, I wouldn’t want to pass up a chance to help you out.” 

“…as well as the opportunity to see Joel upset?”

”Definitely the opportunity to see Joel upset.” She playfully elbowed Lizzie’s arm and smiled. “Jokes and Joel aside, we’re in this together, you hear?”

Lizzie’s expression softened, smiling as she poured water across her seeds. “Yeah. Together.”

With a smile like her’s, Pearl knew it was the truth.

[ottpopfic]

“It's okay,” Katie croaks, taking her godfather's hand in hers, both their palms slippery with blood. Jason's unfocused eyes train on her face, brow pinched with concern “I got it from here. You can go to him”

---

Leo and Jason are the first to pass of the seven

When Katie comes to she knows immediately that Uncle Leo is dead

Some possessed someone has been targeting safehouses, very monster of the week. The Bomb Shelter, a backyard fallout shelter turned house show venue that acts as a temple to Ah-Pa in Cincinnati, has been tracking them after a failed uprising. They had gotten an IM from Alania, the daughter of Iris who runs the place, that the group was heading north after the failed attempt. 

They hadn't been worried. If the assailants barely touched The Bomb Shelter, a five-person operation where two members were fully mortal, The Way Station should be fine. 

At least until the oncoming force got their hands on a fucking trebuchet

They didn't get much warning, just a feeling and then a sound as she and Uncle Leo locked eyes and knew . Katie had enough time to scale up a chunk of curved sheet metal to kick over their two current apprentices before Uncle Leo tackled her to the floor as the wall and rose window exploded in 

The large flaming barrel full of stones the opposition hits them with only does some of the damage, the rest of it is the equipment in the WorkShop going up on its own. They have both magical and mortal machinery and raw materials, a lot of which when combined wrong are a hazard on their own. The major issue is that the projectile hits the dust catcher’s receptacle, once it goes up it's all over. The fireball it creates shoots through the vents and into the other equipment, bypassing the safety enchantments and creating a multitude of explosions sending shrapnel flying in all directions

Katie knows her godfather is dead in three ways. First she feels it, his soul downstairs. He's blocking the line of traffic like a dickhead, waiting, she knows exactly for who. The older she gets the easier things are to feel in the upside down, and someone so close to her is a simple feat

The second is that his body is still on top of her. He's too cold, like his internal flame fled with him leaving Uncle Leo at a regular mortal body temperature. She can also see that he's dead, there are multiple giant shrapnel wounds from where he protected her with his body, and way too much blood. He's also not breathing, or moving, or anything. Festus is standing over them both, about the size of a horse as Katie likes to shrink him down so he can hang inside, blasting fire whenever anyone or anything gets close 

The third is that the Way Station is in her head like never before. Ever since moving here it's been a pickle in the back of her mind, a feeling here an emotion there. Now it's speaking full sentences, Katie can feel every want and need. If she weren't so out of it it would be overwhelming 

She can see Uncle Jason from where she lies prone on the floor under the wreckage. He's holding his own against multiple flying enemies, but even the Pontifex Maximus Valdez Son of Jupiter can't help his age. Katie's dads are in their seventies now, and it shows

Uncle Jason is injured, he has arrows sticking out of his back and a nasty gash on his left arm and chest, but he's still going. Katie gets the impression that he knows he's not making it out of this battle and he's just trying to take out as many infiltrators as he can before he falls, fighting like the wounded and cornered animal he is. Every movement is filled with rage and desperation, using his powers without care for the consequences. It would be terrifying if she wasn't still struggling to consciousness

Katie doesn't think she could ever be scared of any of her dads, not the way other people tend to be. Big shows of power are the norm for her, and she knows they would never ever hurt her. But if she was going to be, this is the closest. Uncle Jason fights like he has nothing to lose, like he's lost it all already. The electricity that pours off of him is rolling and visible, half alive on its own. And where Uncle Jason usually fights with this dignity, a trained poise and finesse, have been replaced by this feralness as he's full-on taking people out with his teeth

It's hard to watch, but Katie is also feeling super out of it in a way she can't place

You have a concussion the Way Station informs her, that makes sense 

Are our apprentices okay? She asks back

The apprentices are alive

Are there any dead?

There are three dead

Are you counting Uncle Jason?

Yes

Who's the third

Cirro  

Oh

Katie has always liked the cloud nymph, she had joined the Way Station only a little before Katie was found. She was a wonderful kind hearted spirit, always there to lend an ear and an excellent baker, she will be missed

Uncle Jason staggers after he takes out the last attacker, trying to balance for a second before his sword clatters from his hand and he collapses to the floor. Festus makes a wounded heartbroken keen above her but keeps his post

You need to get up the Way Station tells her It will be worse if you don't. You have things to do

She does have things to do

Katie rolls over, using her arms to drag herself out from under Uncle Leo’s body. It hurts , every movement hurts but she keeps going, ignoring Festus’s worried whining and pulling herself over the wreckage toward where Uncle Jason lays barely breathing

When she finally crawls her way to him he's almost dead. One of the arrows went through a lung, his breathing wet and ragged. She couldn't save him even if she wanted to, not with his age and injury and the amount of blood he's lost, but he needs to go he needs to be with Uncle Leo

They have to go together . If they don't go together their cycle will start again, storm or fire, and their souls won't survive it a second time. Dieing for each other, pulling each other out of the underworld over and over, it has bound their souls together more than any prophecy ever could. There is no one without the other now

“It's okay,” Katie croaks, taking her godfather's hand in hers, both the palms slippery with blood. His unfocused eyes train on her face, brow pinched with concern “I got it from here. You can go to him”

She holds his hand until he passes, it doesn't take long. He can't talk, but she knows he tells her he loves her, she loves him too. She waits until she can feel her goddad’s meet, they head for Aunt Styx together. They have already paid for the passage many times over, she doesn't need to worry

It's okay, they are together

It takes her a moment to hull herself to her feet, her body feels fuzzy and far away, but she stumbles to the hole in the wall all the same. Katie has always been able to see things that are super small, never needing the magnifying lenses others do to do the same work she does. But sometimes, if she works really hard at it, she can see things far away like she's looking through her binoculars

It's a trebuchet, like they knew it was, all outfitted to the nines and surrounded by monsters and lackeys. The man in charge, possessed as he is, is decked in golden armor like the king he is trying to become. Katie has always needed a line of sight to use her powers, but she feels the Way Station helping push her visuals, she can see all the details

The man's mouth is open as he yells an order, she can see all of his teeth. She lets her magic take hold of a back tooth, the twelve-year molar her medical training tells her, and then makes it grow. The screaming and the loss of the view of the bone as the man clutches his head in his hands doesn't change anything, her magic holds on tight, scaling the tooth up and up until it erupts out of the side of the man's face, the sharp roots of the molar puncturing his brain and exploding out his skull.

When she lets go of the tooth to move on to the second-in-command it starts to shrink back to its original size on its own. That's how it's always worked with organic living things, even if he's not exactly living anymore with the side of his head blown open and his shredded brain falling out. Inanimate objects keep their scale when she's done with them, living things don't, it's not a big deal. Katie uses her powers to grab the second-in-command’s tongue as the woman screams in horror, giving her the same treatment. it's hard to tell if she suffocates first or dies from her jaw and cranium being ripped apart and then off her neck by the sheer size the muscle reaches

She kills four more people this way before her wife gets to her, wrapping both arms around her waist and pulling her from the hole in the side of the building. Katie feels even more lightheaded with the break in the connection, in a far-off way she realizes her nose is bleeding and that's probably bad. An over extent of her powers or a reaction to her injuries, she can't tell

Festus is back too, hot on her wife's heels like he went to get her himself and supporting some of the blond’s weight

“I gotta, I gotta” Katie is mumbling, she can still see some of their attackers. Most are dead or in some kind of retreat, but she can't be sure

“Katie you gotta stop ” Lettie insists, pulling her so she can't see out of the side of the building anymore. Festus helps by pushing Katie with his body, corralling them like a sheepdog

“But I gotta, ” The Way Station is pushing her to continue, it's so angry and miserable and it wants them to not only leave and never come back but pay for what they have done and who they have taken

“Please baby,” Lettie turns her in her arms so she can see her face. There's a gnarly cut through her left eyebrow that is still slowly trickling blood into her eye and she is covered in dust and dirt and detritus, her beautiful blond ringlet curls matted down with mud and debris “Please Katie your hurt, and Jason and Leo-”

“It okay,” she tells her wife, eyes unfocused as they both slide to the floor “It's okay they went together”

“Katie-”

“They had to go together” she's desperate for Lettie to understand, bloody hands clutching at the blond’s ripped dress “It would start again if they didn't go together, but they went together so they're okay”

Lettie has this look she recognizes, but it's not one she's used to having directed at herself. It's the one people give Papi sometimes he does big underworld magic, or when Dad uses his plague powers, like for the first time her wife is scared of her “Katie that's not-”

“The Way Station says I have a concussion” Katie pushes on. 

“It's talking to you?”

“Yeah”

“Oh sweetheart ” 

Lettie pulls her into her lap, the blond bracing her back against the bricks and Festus. Katie can hear her saying something about calling her dads, then Lettie is swiping her thumb through the trail of blood from her still bleeding nose and wiping it across the coin charm on her necklace. Katie can hear her secretary Janet’s voice, then a very panicked Papi, but it feels far away like she listening through cotton. 

“C’mon baby, stay with me” Lettie prompts, papping Katie’s cheek, but it's hard to stay focused. Now that she's not concentrating on defending her home, information from the Way Station is streaming through her head unfiltered. There are forty-five broken windows not including the rose window which they have destroyed 78% of and over 50% of the roof garden is unsalvageable and they have lost six of the fruit trees also there's a water leak that is affecting the mortal structure below and at least one load-bearing wall is at risk of collapse as well as every resident is injured in some way and the infirmary is already at capacity and she's being fed the exact location of every inhabitant in real time some of who are trapped in some way and she needs to go help them right now

Suddenly Dad’s face is swimming into view, his warm hands holding the sides of Katie’s face so he can inspect her. She can feel his vitalkinesis slam through her hard, no gentle rev-up or bedside manor, right into triage mode. 

“Papi shouldn't shadow travel like that,” she slurs out, they are getting too old to be hopping about willie-nillie especially with carry-ons

“Think that's the least of your concerns right now sweetpea.” Dad tells her, in full doctor mode

“We have five that are in critical care and three dead,” she recites, somehow her disaster training coming through first

“Uh-huh?” Dad lets go of one side of her face to scale up his med kit and dig around “Tell me what else is wrong”

“Two of the critical are still under ruble we gotta-”

“Your Papi is on that, tell me what's broken”

“Mark has a broken clavicle and -”

“No, tell me about the building’s damage”

“The garden and main room are the worst, but we got structural damage on both our side and mortal side.” That's easier, not as raw. It's painful to track the people but the hard statistics of the infrastructure feel more neutral “The stair creation enchantment has been damaged we will need to gather the right supplies to fix it, I don't know if we have enough crab blood”

Dad is tying something on her right leg, the one that was trapped under Uncle Leo and the shrapnel of the exploded WorkShop. That's not right, she just has a concussion  

“Wa’s goin’ on,” she asks, she still can't really feel her body right. She tries to pitch forward to see what Dad is doing down there  “Wa’s wrong”

“Don't look baby,” Lettie tells her, putting a gentle hand on Katie's forehead so she can't look down. It holds her against her wife’s shoulder, Katie can feel how there is blood on her hands too. Festus puts his big warm metal head in her lap, helping keep her still

“Keep her talking,” Dad says to Lettie over her shoulder and starts in on a hymn 

“C’mon Kat-Bird, how many bricks do we need to replace?” Lettie prompts, the number comes instantly into her brain 

Lettie keeps her talking like that, gentle questions about the state of the building that the Way Station gladly feeds to her. Now that Katie isn't in fight or flight anymore she can feel the full loopiness of her concussion, making her sluggish and dazed. The only thing that’s sharp in her mind is what the Way Station is informing her, all hard facts.

When her godfathers reach the other end of the river Katie bursts into tears. She has to be in shock or something, because one moment she's barely aware of her surroundings and the next she's so wracked with grief that she just can't take it

“ They crossed ,” Katie sobs. She feels Lettie pulling her closer, her wife pressing a kiss into her hair as her own tears drop onto Katie’s ruined shirt. Festus lets out a mournful whine

Papi slides up to them a moment later. His expression is pained from feeling it himself and winded like he ran to them. The second Katie locks eyes with him she starts crying harder

“They went together ,” she tells him through her tears

“I know Pippi ,” Papi reassures, putting his arms around Lettie’s shoulders so he can hold the two of them “You did good”

Katie just cries, the closest members of her family holding each other tight, yet two people short. 

“I got her as stable as I can here,” Dad eventually tells them “Let's get to the Infirmary, Georgie is gathering everyone there and I don't think the floor is sound”

They don't let Katie stand, Papi scoops her up bridal style with an old man grunt, careful around her legs. Festus helps Lettie get up by giving her his neck and shoulders to haul herself up with

“But we gotta-” Katie tries to argue, still crying and loopy even as she tucks her face into Papi’s shoulder 

“It's okay, the others are coming to help,” Dad says

“Who?” Lettie asks following behind, Festus helping support most of her weight 

“ Everyone ”

[java-dragon]

Covers Bookbinding for beginners by a beginner- The Home Stretch

*drinks half a gallon of coffee*

COVERS!

You've gotten your typeset done for the fic, you've battled the demon that is your printer, folded pages, stitched pages, glued pages, glued end pages, and end bands. Made the cover, covered the cover in potentially homemade book cloth.

Now it's time to design a cover.

It's time to make this thing into a fully functioning book and slide it on your shelf and have a nice bout of "Laying on the Floor while Questioning the Human Condition (TM)".

There are a few options.

It depends on what you want.

I can only take you so far with Cricut/vinyl applications. But I researched enough to maybe, MAYBE give you the run down on at least how to get your cover from Canva to the software to cut out your vinyl. I'll start there since this is what I know the least.

Open up your version of Canva.

Make a document, I've seen some fanbinders make all this in the cricut software but I can only smile and nod along. But for me- this is the best I've figured:

go to the search bar and type in book cover (or use the drop down menu) click on a random template.

Fiddle and fart your way into a design you like. Text and Font Options are available in drop down menus and find some designs that are "Easy to Weed" which I understand as "Getting rid of all the stuff that's not going on the cover".

For Example:

Do you like it? It took me 40 seconds, I'm very proud of it. But this isn't to impress you really I just need to show you how to save your file so you can make the leap from one software application to the next.

Hit "Share", Hit "Download", File Type- Hit the down arrow, Hit "PNG" I missed this for the first few times--- BUT!

Click the "Transparent Background"

If you're doing more than one colour Vinyl you're going to duplicate the page that is located right next to the lock icon above the document. Hit that. Delete the stuff that you want to be different colours. Otherwise it will just cut everything out as one colour and I've seen some vinyl covers that get damn fancy.

You can also build a title cover just measure the spine and height of your spine and rotate your text to horizontal if you please.

Now for how I do mine. I use Printable Iron On Vinyl. Keynote there is a difference, there is stuff for light fabrics, and stuff for dark. Choose for what your primary book cloth will be but the paper itself will be white.

Make your design.

I have 3 different covers for Celestial Navigation by Sabrecmc just because of how LARGE the fic itself is. I had to split the text block up for ease of handling.

I saved as a PNG, and loaded up my fancy printable vinyl into my printer and went through the software for printing, I had to do some fiddling but for my purposes I had to get the whole cover in the right size on the page- it took some fiddling yours might be simpler it might be more complex. But once I got it printed I trimmed off the white and was left with a peel-able rather velvety feeling thing.

Remove the backing. Get the iron on and go low and slow with the provided barrier material to prevent melting and damage to the print you've just done.

I made spines as well and made an 11 x 8.5 (Or brochure template)

And lined up my spines accordingly as to not waste materials. There will be grids that pop up automatically to let you know if things line up.

Print them out on the "highest quality" out put for your photo software.

It peels like a sticker. It may take a bit to get it going.

Line it up as nicely as you can on the cover (double check on the still exposed board).

There is a protective sheet that comes with it USE IT. Set your iron to a low heat and move it around frequently.

If you're in a relatively humid area (I live in a coastal town so the humidity is pretty high all year). Have a heavy book to squish your covers down with to try and get out any bends that may happen post ironing (also why we want low and slow).

Leave to cool.

Now you have a text block and a cover.

For all intents and purposes for my demonstration I'm leaving the spine off and am redoing everything with this fic from the ground up. There are aspects and mistakes that I have made that have irked my brain. So I will be leaving the spines off for this round. This is the learning curve and since a lot have things have clicked into place since beginning this series that have given me the "AH HA! CLARITY!" moment. I have completely reworked EVERYTHING in my text block of Celestial Navigation. Plus I've a perfectionist issue that is a lot milder than what it was.

But these two text blocks will work as my "Ground Zero" and will be the books I compare all potential future binds too.

As a note that I said in the beginning of this endeavor:

THIS IS FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK DO NOT SELL WORK THAT DOES NOT BELONG TO YOU!!!! YOU HAVE ASKED PERMISSION (I dearly hope) TO DO THIS DO NOT BREAK TRUST WITH THE AUTHOR.

IF You want to offer a copy to the author- GO FOR IT. Close friend that is showing interest in the fic?? Sure ok.

But if you sell it for monetary gain? I hope you stub your toe, and just before it finally heals you stub your toe again and may all your breakfast cereal turn to slugs.

DO NOT BE A DICK. I am writing this whole 'How To' Series as an experiment of Good Faith that you, the potential binder, will do right by the community and not compound an issue that has been cropping up. Etsy sellers, and this horrible Facebook community that will steal other's typesets, and begin selling them.

Like I said- this is a breech in Fair Use.

Now with that lecture, again, out of the way lets settle the rest of this series.

You will need:

Glue

Book Press

glue brush

Wax Paper.

Your Cover.

Your Text block.

Get your textblock and cover lined up with some wax paper in the middle of the decorative pages (if you're doing them other wise the page you glue down to the cover and the rest of the text block.

Fiddle, fart and dry fit until you are satisfied.

Lay down a layer of glue on the page NOT THE COVER ITSELF.

DON'T BE ME. I FUCKED UP HARDCORE AND DID THE COVER WITH THE GLUE. HOOOOO NELLY LET ME TELL YOU HOW BADLY THAT FUCKED SHIT UP.

HOW BAD WAS IT? BAD. VERY BAD. DON'T BE LIKE ME THAT FIRST ROUND, BE LIKE ME ON THE SECOND ROUND AND PUT GLUE ON THE END PAGE.

Line up the textblock for a final time and then apply the paper to the cover open the textblock and smooth what you just glued down. Flip over and repeat.

Then add weight to the text block put it back in your press, or if you're like me and have a reprint in the press just throw books atop the block.

Allow glue to cure over night.

Shiver, shudder, and lay on the floor. Your fic is now a book that you can put on your shelf.

Welcome to the wild wild world of bookbinding.

I've been your host trying their best to explain all the things.

I will likely continue this series with "OK SO I LEARNED SOME SHIT ALL THAT SHIT I WROTE BEFORE FEEL FREE TO LISTEN BUT I'VE GOT BETTER SOLUTIONS NOW" time stuff.

[familiarstale]

Before he went by the name Ruin/Jigsaw he still went by the name Eclipse and this is still pretty early on in the robot apocalypse when he finds something that will eventually become super precious to him.

Ruin Eclipse has been kidnapped out of TSAMS because they were doing him so dirty

Under a readmore because long

The sounds of screams and gunfire weren’t constant anymore, but you could still hear mayhem off in the distance. The fusion eclipse currently hiding behind the burned-out car hated hearing them. When around the others, they pretended the sounds didn’t faze them, but when on their own they shut off their eyes and held their hands over their audio sensors. Anything to try and block it all out.

The vibrations of violence grew a little more distant, and he felt safe to abandon his hiding spot. Switching their eyesight back on, the eclipse peeked over the top of the car, exposed endoskeleton fingers resting on the roof. The coast was clear. The hybrid eclipse quickly fled the area, not wanting to be there when the others cycled back around.

They darted down abandoned streets, rushing past cars that were still burning, hoping not to run into any survivors. He had no idea what to do if he did. Obviously, if any of the others were around, he’d have to kill the person but when alone it was harder to know. He’d want to let the human go – but what if the others found out?

Eclipse was still learning how to move with one damaged leg. If the others became enraged, they didn’t want it ripped all the way off.

They sprinted across rubble and frighteningly large pools of dried blood, and they almost fell from the sudden vibrations of a fight coming close again. Freezing, they listened, rays twitching slightly.

There were no screams, no pleas for mercy. So it wasn’t more murder just a … ‘friendly fire’ kind of thing. Their motor ran a little faster. They didn’t want to deal with that either.

Ducking into the closest hulk of a destroyed building, the sun-moon fusion bot crouched among piles of debris. Their yellow and blue wrists and yellow and red eyes glowed in the darkness. They hoped that wouldn’t give them away.

All he had to do was wait until they passed. That shouldn’t take too long. Just wait there, quiet. He’d done this countless times.

Eclipse jumped at the sound of voices. They looked around frantically, this way and that. Their rays could only twitch a little now; they would have shot upright in fear, if they still worked properly. But now, they only twitched. The voices weren’t coming nearer but they weren’t fading away, either. Someone in the building? They didn’t recognise them… and a human survivor group wouldn’t have such noisy, open conversations anymore.

… It could be one of those voices, the other type the former attendant had started to hear. The type that showed up when no one else was actually around. They hesitated, then slowly stood up, looking carefully around their surroundings.

He’s heard of museums, from chatting with children, a long time ago. This sort of looked similar to the descriptions, though this place was almost completely destroyed. Once-beautiful cement pillars had crumbled, and all of the display cases had been smashed, glass glittering on the floor. Some shards stuck to the bottom of the fusion’s shoes. Reaching down, he brushed them off, careful to not get any lodged into his exposed hand joints.

Looking around, they used the glow from their wrists and eyes to see more of their surroundings, stepping carefully to not pick up any more glass.

A lot of the display cases, even though now only wreckage on the floor, had been emptied. Only shelving, signage, glass and the sides of old wooden displays lay in heaping piles. Signs sliding off the rubble stated these cases used to hold historic weapons. Swords, bows and arrows, spears. These ancient tools must have been grabbed by humans, for protection. But, would old weapons of stone and wood, or even metal, really work against animatronics that had gone rogue? Stepping over broken wood, Eclipse picked up a very battered wooden rifle, turning it over in his hands. Broken. No trigger and the barrel had large cracks. No wonder no one took it. They tossed it aside and continued on, at times placing a hand on the wall for balance.

One of the next displays had been of various knives and swords – at least, judging from the description plaques, anyway. As expected, large sheets of glass and many thousands of sparkly, jagged shards covered the surrounding floor. This display case was mostly intact, but it slumped to one side. The case was just about picked clean. What would knives do to animatronics hellbent on ending human life? Eclipse had no idea. They grimaced at the thought, hoping that any humans who believed a tiny knife would give them… any sort of protection at least went out fast.

Climbing onto a toppled pillar, Eclipse searched for any part of the floor that wasn’t covered in broken glass when something caught their eye. They slid off the rounded pillar and carefully stepped across shards. They placed their hands on what seemed like the last, mostly unbroken display case. Half the glass front was gone, but on the other side was a very, very large sword. Eclipse was a little under 7ft tall, and looking at the sword, he guessed it had to be roughly 5 foot in length. How could humans possibly use something pretty much their height? Granted, that was probably why it was left behind, but why was something so massive even made in the first place? What a waste of steel!

It was beautiful, though. Yeah, now very dull and it could use a polish, but it was beautiful. The handle was a deep grey, almost black. Plain at a glance, but when examined more closely, there were indents, grooves with little ridges, to help keep a tight hold on the weapon. And the blade. It was so long! And while it wasn’t all that thick, it certainly wasn’t paper-thin. It could be used with force. Something like that probably would be useful against a raging animatronic. The only reasons the eclipsed bot could think of for it being left behind were how long and heavy it was, and how very blunted the edge of the blade appeared. Sharpening something that large would take time and patience. Neither of these were in big supply during the heat of an apocalypse. That and the size. A frightened human trying to wield that might have events take a bad turn.

They looked around, left and right, listening carefully. Silence. Well, other than the constant purr of their own motor functions. The abandoned museum was dark and empty.

Eclipse focused back on the large weapon, rays twitching a little. Moving past where half the glass had been removed to get to what had probably been much smaller blades, they reached in. One hand rested on the remaining glass pane, but even by leaning in and stretching their other arm out, they weren’t even close. They kept inching closer to the sword, but the jagged edges began to scrape their sensitive exposed endoskeleton.

They let out a small hiss and backed away, checking their arm and face, worried about further damage. Thankfully none. The giant, shark-toothed remaining pane of display glass might have been another reason the sword had been abandoned. Even a giant of a human would hate to cut up their arms, especially now all hope of dependable medical care had vanished.

Backing away, the bot looked around for large but lift-able chunks of rubble. He tried to pick up a fragment of a smashed pillar, but his mechanical joints protested. Eclipse let go and heaved a synthetic sigh. Rays twitched in annoyance. Trying again, he grabbed the chunk of pillar with both hands and attempted to heave it up. His mechanical joints screamed, but he didn’t quit.

Eventually he had it lifted to about knee-height. They were simulating panting, just about, fighting against their built-in limitations to lift something heavier than they were designed for.

Holding it tight against their thighs, they slowly, slowly inched closer to the large section of intact glass. They would need to throw it at the glass AND back away as fast as possible to avoid flying shards. It would be… very bad to get razor-sharp bits of glass, like tiny knives, lodged inside their joints. Or worse.  That shouldn’t be too hard…

Eclipse simulated a few deep breaths to calm any nerves and worries about things going terribly wrong.

Once close enough, he stopped and simulated a deep breath to lift the chunk of cement a little higher. Another moment of hesitation and then he shoved the large fragment forward as hard as he could. As soon as it left his hands, he jumped back, staggering a little but somehow managing not to lose balance completely.

He flinched away, arms shielding his face, just as a loud crash rang out. Followed by the extra tinkle of the rest of the glass pane peppering the floor.

Rays twitching, Eclipse lowered his arms and glanced around. Hopefully no one else heard that…

Waiting… waiting… waiting… nothing. Nothing but his own motor roaring inside him and now his cooling fans trying to calm him down. But no one heading inside to investigate the crash.

Another synthetic breath, this one coming out as more a sigh of relief.

Stepping forward, Eclipse avoided as much of the glittering danger as he could but with the fresh wreckage it was impossible to avoid it completely. Luckily he still had both shoes at least.

They reached in and pulled their new prize free from the broken shelving and piles of glass. It had some weight to it. Most likely it was solid steel. The sword was lighter than the cement, though. It took some effort, but he was able to carry it.

…

Eclipse eventually left the abandoned, broken, former museum, clutching their new weapon. They waited until they were fully and completely convinced the coast was clear outside.

…

It’d taken a while to find sharpening and polishing tools.  Weeks even. The eclipsed animatronic had to store his new sword somewhere safe until he was able to actually fix it up. The last thing he wanted was for it to be snatched from him before he could even see if it would be useful.

Finally though they did find the restoration kits they needed. At last, they came across a wrecked hardware store which still had metal files and rasps for sharpening tools, and some soft cloths for shining up silver and brass. They found a quiet safe place to get to work. They were just finishing up. He brought the gleaming blade close to his face, examining it.

“Really does look quite sharp… Now for a quick polish, to pretty you up a bit.”

As the eclipsed bot stroked and wiped the polishing cloths along the length of their new sword, they couldn’t help but admire how it shined in the dim light of the abandoned house.

Once they were finished, they carefully traced a finger along the flat surface of the blade. “Pretty...” They tilted it until they could see themselves reflected on the mirror-like surface. They quickly tilted it away again, averting their eyes. Their Sun and Moon probably wouldn’t have approved of taking such a weapon if they were still around.

It would be fine. They would use it for protection only! … Their rays retracted as far as they were able to. Their confidence in that wasn’t very strong.

Mostly for protection …maybe.

Trying to not think unpleasant thoughts of what they might be forced to do, Eclipse decided, for the moment, they were just going to admire their new beautiful sword. They turned it from side to side, watching it glisten in the low light. Beautiful. Deadly. But, beautiful.

[secret-task-tracker]

Session 8

!!Spoilers Below!!

Depending on how the next episode will go this might be our last post. o7

Will update once Etho uploads his video (get well soon Etho!)

Grian:

"A fallen player is your ghostly angel, they will secretly guide you through this episode, you must do what they say. You fail if anyone asks you if you are talking to someone else. They will contact you using ethereal means to set up a means of conversation."

Status: Achieved

Scott:

"You are a bad spy. You must listen in on red players' plans, but convey bad intel to your fellow yellow players. You must give at least 3 significant false intel such as incorrect targets or intentions. At least one of the bad intel must be acted upon by another player"

Status: Failed (voluntarily)

Etho:

unknown just yet but we do know its been

Status: Re-rolled

Pearl:

"During this session you must leave conversations in a creative way. You pass when you have successfully left 8 different conversations or encounters in a different manner, You can leave conversations as normal, but it will not count towards your final goal"

Status: Failed

Scar:

"You must sabotage at least 3 red players bases without being seen. You can hide their stuff, destroy farms or burn things. If you are caught, you fail."

Status: Achieved (nearly clicked the re-roll button again though)

Impulse:

"During this session you must enter conversations in a creative way. You pass when you have successfully entered 8 different conversations or encounters in a different manner, You can enter conversations as normal, but it will not count towards your final goal"

Status: Failed

Cleo:

"@/supergratmonkey You are a secret santa. You have to randomise who is naughty and nice on the server. You must give a gift to all nice players and pull a trick, damage or steal from naughty players. You can not do the same gift/trick twice in the session."

Status: Failed

Red Tasks:

Joel:

"Fire arrows from an unenchanted bow continuously at GoodTimeWIthScar until they deflect with a shield. If they die, you also succeed"

Status: Achieved

"Build an explosive under a high traffic area. Detonate it from afar when a conversation is happening, If you deal any damage, you succeed"

Status: Achieved

"Build a TNT cannon and successfully hit a base from at least 50 blocks."

Status: Achieved

"You must damage a yellow or green player by firing a bow straight up into the air. The angle can not be below roughly 70 degrees."

Status: Achieved

"Tame at least 5 wolves and use them to deal damage to a non-red."

Status: Achieved

Status: Failed (ran out of yellow names but I don't think he pressed the fail button so technically not a full fail)

BigB:

"Summon a mob using an egg to deal any damage to any green."

Status: Achieved

"Strike a deal with a non-red to cause at least 3 hearts of damage to another non-red. You succeed when they have dealt the damage."

Status: Achieved

"Go invisible and hit at least 5 different people with a sword within 1 minute without being hit back."

Status: Failed (ran out of players to attack)

"Cause a player to take suffocation damage of any kind."

Status: end of session'd

Bdubs:

"Kill a green name with a trap of any kind."

Status: end of session'd (he took a really long time and ran out of people to kill)

Martyn:

"Find a non red name with at least 20 hearts. Take approximately 10 of them in any way you see fit. If there are none, damage any player for at least 5 hearts"

Status: Achieved

"Go invisible and punch a green life off a cliff. They must take at least 3 hearts of damage."

Status: end of session'd (and ran out of potential targets)

Scar:

"Dig many 1x1 holes at least 15 blocks deep in high traffic areas until someone falls in one. Hide them with tall grass."

Status: end of session'd

Tango:

"Enderpearl into a conversation, deal as much damage as you can to as many players, if you are hit or they all run away enderpearl away"

Status: end of session'd

Cleo:

We didn't get to see but it was

Status: end of session'd

Skizz:

"Kill a green name by any means. They can fight back once you have initiated combat."

Status: Achieved

Then he never showed his second task ever and I just assume he got

Status: end of session'd

Gem:

"Eliminate at least 3 non-red horses or all of a player's wolves."

Status: Achieved

"Mine a big hole underground then spleef a player into taking damage into it."

Status: Achieved

"Add berry bushes anywhere and everywhere. Caused someone to get pricked by one. You can punch people into the bushes if you need to."

Status: Achieved

"Cause a player to take fall damage of over 1 heart."

Status: Achieved

"Hit a green name with a sword until they block you with a shield. If you kill them you also succeed."

Status: Achieved

"Build a base at close to build height to ''hide your valuables''. Wait for a non-red to investigate and push them off."

Status: end of session'd

In loving memory of:

Lizzie, Timmy, and Mumbo

Oh my god this took so long lmao. Anyways if I made any mistakes tell me please k thanks byeeeeee.

[blackdiamond1038]

Secret Life Secrets

Session 8

Green- Successful

Red- Failed

Scott: You are a bad spy. You must listen in on red player’s plans, but convey bad intel to your fellow yellow players. You must give at least 3 significant false intel such as incorrect targets or intentions. At least one of the bad intel must be acted upon by another player.

Grian: A fallen player is your ghostly angel. They will secretly guide you through this episode, and you must do what they say. You fail if anyone asks if you are talking to someone else. They will contact you using ethereal means to set up a means of conversation.

Pearl: During this session, you must leave conversations in a creative way. You pass when you have successfully left 8 different conversations or encounters in a different manner. You can leave conversations as normal, but it will not count towards your final goal.

Impulse: During this session, you must enter conversations in a creative way. You pass when you have successfully entered 8 different conversations or encounters in a different manner. You can enter conversations as normal, but it will not count towards your final goal. [Didn’t press either button]

Joel: Task 1: Fire arrows from an unenchanted bow continuously at Scar until they deflect with a shield. If they die, you also succeed. Task 2: Build an explosive under a high traffic area. Detonate it from afar when a conversation is happening. If you deal any damage, you succeed. Task 3: Build a TNT cannon and successfully hit a base from at least 50 blocks. Task 4: You must damage a yellow player by firing a bow straight up into the air. The angle cannot be below roughly 70 degrees. Task 5: Tame at least 5 wolves and use them to deal damage to a non-red. Task 6: Use redstone to damage a non-red player. You cannot hit them with the item, it must be a machine or trap of some kind. [Unfinished this session]

Cleo: You are a secret santa. You have to randomise who is naughty and nice on the server. You must give a gift to all nice players and pull a trick, damage, or steal from naughty players. You cannot do the same gift/trick twice in the session. [Received first red task, did not open] [Unfinished this session]

Tango: Task 1: Enderpearl into a conversation, deal as much damage as you can to as many players, if you are hit or they run away, enderpearl away. [Unfinished this session]

Skizz: Task 1: Kill a yellow name by any means. They can fight back one you have initiated combat. Task 2: [Received second task, never opened] [Unfinished this session]

Martyn: Task 1: Find a non-red player with at least 20 hearts. Take approximately 10 of them in any way you see fit. If there are none, damage any player for at least 5 hearts. Task 2: Go invisible and punch a yellow player off a cliff. They must take at least 3 hearts of damage. [Unfinished this session]

Bdubs: Task 1: Kill a yellow name with a trap of any kind. [Unfinished this session]

Gem: Task 1: Eliminate at least 3 non-red horses or all of a player’s wolves. Task 2: Mine a big hole underground then spleef a player into taking damage into it. Task 3: Add berry bushes anywhere and everywhere. Cause someone to get pricked by one. You can punch people into the bushes if you need to. Task 4: Cause a player to take fall damage of over 1 heart. Task 5: Hit a yellow name with a sword until they block you with a shield. If you kill them, you also succeed. Task 6: Build a bad close to build height to “hide your valuables.” Wait for a non-red to investigate it and push them off. [Unfinished this session]

Scar: You must sabotage at least 3 red player’s bases without being seen. You can hide their stuff, destroy farms, or burn things. If you are caught, you fail. Task 1 [as a red]: Dig many 1x1 holes at least 15 blocks deep in high traffic areas until someone fall in one. Hide them with tall grass. [Unfinished this session]

BigB: Task 1: Summon a mod using an egg to deal any damage to a green. Task 2: Strike a deal with a non-red to cause at least 3 hearts of damage to another non-red. You succeed when they have dealt the damage. Task 3: Go invisible and hit at least 5 other people with a sword within one minute without being hit back. Task 4: Cause a player to take suffocation damage of any kind. [Unfinished this session]

ghost jimmy <3

Etho is sick and hasn’t posted his video yet, but I’ll update as soon as it is!

lemme know if I missed something, espically with the players that didn’t open their tasks. I checked the footage over multiple times, and I’m pretty confident they didn’t open them, but idk.

[all54321]

Secret Life Session 8 Task List

<Previous Session] [Master List] [Next Session>

Each task is directly quoted from the book.

With most of the server red and that number increasing, this will take longer to update, since I’ll have to watch a lot of videos to get all the tasks. If I miss a red task please tell me.

I am now separating each person with tildes because with reds getting multiple tasks it’ll be easier to see what tasks someone has.

~

Bdubs Red Task 1: Kill a green name with a trap of any kind.

~

Etho: You are the silent server hero. You must protect other yellow players from traps and damage. - You succeed if you are able to save a player from significant damage (more than 2 hearts) at least 3 times.

Etho Red Task 1: Get another player to look at an enderman.

Etho Red Task 2: Create a damaging trap in someone’s base. You succeed when it’s unintentionally triggered. If it’s discovered, you must make a new one. You can make multiple until one is triggered successfully.

Etho Red Task 3: Do any amount of damage with a dripstone (Must be placed)

~

Gem Red Task 1: Eliminate at least 3 non-red horses or all of a player’s wolves.

Gem Red Task 2: Mine a big hole underground then spleef a player into taking damage into it.

Gem Red Task 3: Add berry bushes anywhere and everywhere. Cause someone to get pricked by one. You can punch people into the bushes if you need to.

Gem Red Task 4: Cause a Player to take fall damage of over 1 heart.

~

Scar: You must sabotage at least 3 red player’s bases without being seen. You can hide their stuff, destroy farms or burn things. If you are caught, you fail.

Scar Red Task 1: Dig mant 1x1 holes at least 15 blocks deep in high traffic areas until someone falls in one. Hide them with tall grass.

~

Grian: A fallen player is your ghostly angel, they will secretly guide you through this episode, you must do what they say. You fail if anyone asks if you are talking to someone else. They will contact you using ethereal means to set up a means of conversation.

~

Martyn Red Task 1: Find a red name with at least 20 hearts. Take approximately 10 of them in any way you see fit. If there are none, damage any player for at least 5 hearts.

Martyn Red Task 2: Go invisible and punch a green life off a cliff. They must take at least 3 hearts of damage.

~

Pearl: During this session, you must leave conversations in a creative way. You pass when you have successfully left 8 conversations or encounters in a different manner. You can leave conversations as normal, but it will not count towards your al goal.

~

Skizz Red Task 1: Kill a green name by any means. They can fight back once you have initiated combat.

~

Scott: You are a bad spy. You must listen in on red players’ plans, but convey bad intel to your fellow yellow players. You must give at least 3 significant false intel such as incorrect targets or intentions. At least one of the bad intel must be acted upon by another player.

~

Joel Red Task 1: Fire arrows from an unenchanted bow continuously at GoodTimeWithScar until they deflect with a shield. If they die you also succeed.

Joel Red Task 2: Build an explosive under a high traffic area. Detonate it from afar when a conversation is happening. If you deal any damage, you succeed.

Joel Red Task 3: Build a TNT cannon and successfully hit a base from at least 50 blocks.

Joel Red Task 4: You must damage a yellow or green player by firing a bow straight up into the air. The angle can not be below roughly 70 degrees.

Joel Red Task 5: Tame at least 5 wolves and use them to deal damage to a non red.

Joel Red Task 6: Use redstone to damage a non-red player. You can not hit the, with the item, it must be a machine or trap of some kind.

~

Tango Red Task 1: Enderpearl into a conversation, deal as much as you can to as many players, if you are hit or they all run away, enderpearl away.

~

Cleo: From supergratmonkey: You are a secret Santa. You have to randomize who is naughty and nice on the server. You must give a gift to all nice players and pull a trick, damage or steal from naughty players. You can not do the same gift/trick twice in the session.

~

BigB Red Task 1: Summon a mob using an egg to deal any damage to any green

BigB Red Task 2: Strike a deal with a non-red to cause at least 3 hearts of damage to another non-red. You succeed when they have dealt the damage.

BigB Red Task 3: Go invisible and hit at least 5 different people with a sword within 1 minute without being hit back.

BigB Red Task 4: Cause a player to take suffocation damage of any kind.

~

Impulse: During this session, you must enter conversations in a creative way. You pass when you have successfully entered 8 different conversations or encounters in a different manner. You can enter conversations as normal, but it will not count towards your final goal.

~

Note: In tasks specifying a green life, it now applies to a yellow life.

[majormeilani]

tips for not dying in Minecraft that i have learned from playing many upon many hardcore Minecraft worlds that will save you almost every time

ALWAYS keep your health and hunger as high as you can in dangerous places in the game. one fall or a step into lava could be the end for you if not

ALWAYS keep a look out of your surroundings when exploring. look up, down, left and right, especially when navigating caves and new areas. place torches every couple of blocks as you run through them as well. this tip is especially important because it keeps mobs from sneaking up on you and is helpful for finding resources too!

ALWAYS have wood with you OR bring an oak/birch/azalea sapling and a dirt block with you when exploring underground. you can also bring moss too. when you kill skeletons, you can use the bone meal from their bones to grow the sapling and replenish your wood supply with at least enough to make torches or a crafting table

you can eat and row your boat at the same if you start eating food and then start rowing immediately after

if a fight seems too hard for you to win, running away is your best course of action

or sometimes if there's a creeper in the mob group, you can lure them to the middle and block with a shield and the creeper will damage or kill the mobs around you

ALWAYS crouch at high ledges when walking past them. one time i fell off a ledge but somehow managed to land on the hitbox of the block in such a way that i was able to jump back up all because i was crouching

protection four armor on all armor pieces will protect you from A LOT OF DAMAGE in some cases you can literally stand right next to a creeper or tnt and you won't take fatal damage, even on hard difficulty

a mending bow is better than an infinity bow for long term use as arrows can be bought in bulk from a fletcher villager for 1 emerald

use villagers to farm xp for enchanting and emeralds. the best way to start a village is with a farmer villager, fletcher and a shepard. the fletcher you can trade sticks to for emeralds to buy bread from the farmer and beds from the shepard (3 tier trade)

the best villagers to farm emeralds and xp is between librarians and cartographers or fletchers and librarians. farmers and clerics are also a decent choice for getting xp but may require gathering surplus resources. fisherman and butchers kinda suck but can be a substantial food source

bring shears and night vision potions to ancient cities. use the accessibility function to toggle crouching for navigation of the city to avoid summoning a warden. you can use shears to quickly break and pick up wool from the hallways of the ancient city. to avoid triggering the shriekers, surround any chests, sensors or shriekers on all four sides (or the top/bottom for shriekers and sensors for extra safety)

when you go to the end for the fight, bring at least 3 stacks of wood with you. you can also bring at least a stack of wool with you if you plan on using beds but the wooden planks are helpful for crafting or pillaring, otherwise

do not be afraid to use blocks to make navigation easier. this can be used especially if you are familiar with the layout of a structure but are too afraid to fight enemies head on, like looting bastions or woodland mansions.

don't be afraid to build farms! they may seem cheaty but they can be helpful in the short or long term

you can capture mobs in boats to prevent despawning (java edition), which is especially good when zombie villagers show up before you have the resources to cure them

save most of your gold bars for golden apples as they will save you in a pinch

ALWAYS have some sort of building block in your hotbar. this can be useful in blocking off mobs or pillaring to escape.

having something to break your fall in your hotbar is also recommended but not required. hay bales, beds, water buckets, snow buckets and slime or honey cubes can break your fall

in java edition you can also use boats and sometimes mobs to drop down from high places and mitigate fall damage. boats you can actually row off edges and fall from high heights without taking damage at all!

having a boat on hand is also always a good idea for navigating the world and also acting as a barrier for catching dangerous mobs in

you can put carpet on top of fences to hop over them!

in my experience, having 1 smite 5 sword and 1 sharpness 5 sword on hand is very helpful for fighting everything in the game. the smite 5 sword will kill anything undead in a couple hits, which most mobs you will encounter will be

jumping before hitting always deals more damage, esp with an axe which is a good early game weapon! most mobs die in 1-3 hits from an iron axe

there's more but i am too tired to remember them

[thevoiceofthebard]

Chapter 16 - Menrig I: Dragon Rising

Fredas 22nd of Last Seed 4E201 Evening

Menrig

Unlike many of my fellows, I had grown up wanting to be a town guard.

For sure, the stories of heroes and adventurers enthralled me, but the thought of such danger all the time filled me with dread. Becoming a merchant sounded far too dull, and farming even more so. Despite my friends' jokes about "taking an arrow to the knee" and settling down at their spouse's behest, guard duty seemed to me a safe, but interesting job to maintain.

So how in the name of Talos is it that we have this day fought a dragon?

We'd all heard the rumors, of course, but it still all seemed like mere fantasy, far away from our actual lives. But those thoughts vanished when we reached the Western Watchtower. Not even the local giants could have done such damage, nor caused the stones themselves to catch fire. If anyone had doubts still, they flew when a scout called out a dragon approaching from the southern mountains. We all desperately moved to defensible positions, drawing bows, as the dragon descended upon us at impossible speed. I called upon Akatosh to protect me from his child, and Talos to grant me valor in battle, and to the old warriors of legend, the Dragonborn. And then it was upon us.

"You are brave. Balaan hokoron. Your defeat brings me honor."

It was... Madness. I have no other word to describe what happened this day. It was unlike any fight one could possibly imagine. As our foe was airborne, our first attack was a volley of arrows thrown on the Housecarl's mark. A few hit their mark, but they hardly seemed effective, beyond the beast somehow avoiding most of them. Irileth had said something about forcing it to land, but such thoughts have a way of being forgotten in the heat of battle.

There were no ranks to close, no manner of file that would work against an enemy that could fly over your head to flank you. So when the voice of that Breton screamed out to 'ware the dragon's fire, you found cover where you could. The few archers stationed on the remains of the watchtower were lucky to merely hide behind the arrow slits, but those of us on the ground scrambled to find rubble large enough, raise our shields, and pray to not be cooked alive. The heat was still unbearable, and the stone turned cherry red at our backs, but all of us stood still after that first pass.

The next few minutes passed the same; Let fly an arrow, the move 'round cover before the dragon returned the favor a hundredfold. Once, it lit upon the tower, and with one sweep of its tail, leveled the entire top floor, but its brief pause gave us the chance to loose several dozen arrows directly into its back, forcing it to take flight once more. Soon after, the beast landed, whether from injury or frustration at its lack of success in the air. We abandoned our bows, drew our blades, and now we were able to move together. We might not have been soldiers, but our bonds of kinship as Nords were instinctual.

"Krif krin. Pruzah! I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!"

If fighting a flying dragon was madness, then fighting it on the ground felt like being in Oblivion itself. The beast was even larger up close; its maw could have easily fit a man's torso within it. I know this for certain, as it snapped its neck forward, pouncing upon a man too slow with his shield. The sight of a man being tossed about like a rabbit, the sound of cracking bones; it will haunt me forever, I'm sure. It tossed the corpse aside like a rat, and backed away from our line, as we attempted to flank and encircle it. Despite a warning from Talao, its tail knocked a few of us over several times, one of the fallen men roasted alive when we were a moment too late to recover, but we soon felt the flow of its attacks. Half our number would block a fang or claw, and then they other half dart forward and score as many cuts as possible while the dragon is vulnerable.

The dragon screeched at us after one particular foray, and our line staggered back at the sheer force behind it. It tensed up, and I could tell it was about to regain the air. To flee, or to take advantage of our open position, either one would be devastating to us, but we seemed powerless to stop it. Until Uthgerd broke rank and charged forward with a battle-cry that put the dragon's to shame. With her tremendous greatsword, she clove directly through one of the beast's wings.

The sound that issued forth from the dragon... I have never heard, nor ever shall hear, a sound so visceral, so terrifying, so piteous, as the sound of pain that came from that dragon's throat. It reared back from Uthgerd, but the damage was done; its wing fell uselessly by its side, blood gushing from the wound, as it screamed, "Dii viing! Hi sunvaar, zu'u fen krii hi! Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!" It staggered around on its three remaining limbs, madness and fury in its eyes. A living avatar of the unbridled force of Nirn itself.

And that insane woman looked at the thrashing, screaming dragon, smiled, and charged forward again.

I half expected to be cleaning her corpse off the ground later, but she skillfully evaded the dragon's desperate flailing, and leapt atop its back, plunging her blade deep into its flesh, again and again. With every thrust, the dragon's screams became softer, and its thrashing slowly eased. She dropped off the dragon's back, then held up its massive head, a dagger in hand. The gleam in its eyes is dim, searching past us, when they widen and I hear it say "Dovahkiin? Nid!" It tensed up once more, as if to deny its fate, and then the woman shoved her dagger into the base of its skull. The light died, and it went limp.

Now, the dragon's vanquisher gives another great cry, a feeling of victory rather than challenge, and the guards all follow suit, realizing we had done it. We had done the impossible, the stuff of legends; we had slain a dragon!

The housecarl's quick tally of our troops was somber, though not terribly depressing. Of the dozen guards that had made our group, only two had died. Kjeld was the poor soul who'd been nearly eaten alive, and Sorarke the one who had fallen to flames. One of the archers in the tower, Ingmorn, had his legs crushed, but would live. The two guards who'd originally been stationed at the tower, Hroki and Tor, had not made it either. The rest of us all had minor burns and other wounds, but nothing serious. Our ordeal was finally over.

Or so I thought.

It happened when Irileth had stepped forward to inspect the corpse. Even in death, the dragon was magnificent, despite its wounds. Its teeth a blinding ivory, majestic horns upon its skull, its bronze scales still gleaming. And smoking. Smoking?

We all back away, murmuring, as the dragon's flesh seems to fade and burn. Was it coming back to life? I hear a death rattle from its chest, as if exhaling for the last time again, and a queer wind blows from it, something more than air, and flowing toward a surprised looking Uthgerd. No, not to her, through her. Past her.

I hear another scream. And I see him, the Breton who had inspired us not an hour ago, who had warned us of the dragon's actions in the heat of battle, had descended from the ramparts. And now the wind was burrowing itself in his chest, as he screamed, no loudly, not in pain, but an odd mix of fear and surprise. Before my eyes, the dragon corpse has suddenly decayed by weeks. As if all the life had been drained from it, or its vitality.

Or its soul.

Something clicks in my mind; an old story I'd heard, but as though I'd forgotten until this moment. As Uthgerd helps Talao up, panting and sweating, eyes wild with emotion, one word is at the front of my mind. "It can't be. You're..."

After today, perhaps I'll take up farming after all.

Translations: Balaan hokoron - Worthy enemies Krif krin. Pruzah! - Fight courageously. Good! Dii viing! Hi sunvaar, zu'u fen krii hi! Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde! - My wing! You monsters, I'll kill you! My overlord will devour your souls in Sovngarde!

Chapter 15 - Irileth I: Dragon Rising x Chapter 17 - Whiterun I: Dragon Rising

[theseusernamesarehard]

Stuck on the puzzle: Chapter four

previous | next | masterlist

pairing: Luke Castellan x Olivia Messer (daughter of Apollo oc)

word count: 2k

summary: A year before the quest, Luke and Olivia go for kleos.

It was finally time for the first capture the flag game of the summer. Luke and Olivia had paired their cabins together for as long as they could remember, but they had ended last summer with two losses in a row. Which meant that they had spent the entire winter figuring out how to win this year. The key step had been realizing they both suck at strategy and leaving it to the Athena cabin, aka Luke's found little sister Annabeth Chase. The 10 year old was tiny, but she had a brilliant mind like her siblings and could figure out the best positions for each soldier, depending on their weapon of choice. Everyone trusted her to make sure she brought a much needed victory for the blue team.

She was the one who came up with their brilliant little attack plan. A bigger group of soldiers would approach the flag head on and keep most of the defense on bay, while the actual attack was made from the side. Simple yet effective. It required quite a bit of manpower, but Annabeth compensated for that by guarding their flag with a fleet of archers and soldiers scattered around within hearing distance, ready to gather at any sight or sound of attack from every direction.

Luke was attacking the flag from the right, walking casually with his sword in hand. He was hearing distant yells and swords clashing, which meant that the front line had clearly reached the red teams defense. Still, Luke wasn't shocked to see red when he was just a few feet away from the flag. What he didn't expect was to see Bryce and Lily, two Ares kids with vicious glints in their eyes.

"I really did think you guys would be on attack. But I suppose that's on me for stereotyping."

"We were hoping Messer would be on your heels like always, but I suppose we'll just have to deal with you", Bryce sighed. "Too bad, would've loved to send her to her own infirmary."

"And since we'll be punished for maiming, I was hoping we'd at least be able to get a package deal", Lily finished.

"Man you two are really starting to sound like cartoon movie villains. How long did you practice that?"

"Shut it, Castellan."

Luke was getting a tiny bit nervous. Sure, he was good with a sword, but two-on-one was never fair and both his opponents had spears, which meant that they could probably just ward him off. But he wasn't left with much choice when the two soldiers charged and all he could do was focus on the fight. Luckily, swordfighting felt like it was what his body was made to do. Sidestep, stab and block came to him very easily, but there was no way he could do any proper damage.

Just as he was starting to think 'where the fuck is she?', the red helmets flew off the Ares kids. They looked around, confused and before the knew it, two arrows were shot so precisely that the edges just barely scraped their knuckles, leaving friction burns on them and making them yelp and drop their spears. Luke wasn't as dumbfounded as the two so he managed to pick up one spear and point it at Bryces throat while his sword found Lilys.

Olivia, who had a habit of making an entrance, dropped down from a nearby tree with her bow on her back.

"Well, Bryce. I'm here, as you hoped, but it looks like we might have to leave the maiming for next time. We're a little busy."

They started tying their enemies to trees with the rope that Olivia brought.

"You were there to hear that? Why didn't you come help me sooner?" Luke questioned.

"I was enjoying the show. And I half expected Bryce to trip and take care of himself."

Bryce scoffed at that, but it was hard to keep your dignity when being tied to a tree.

"Fair enough. And it was partially to show off your shooting skills, wasn't it", Luke smirked.

"Well we didn't practice all winter for nothing, did we?"

"All right. All done here", Luke said, finishing up the last knot. "Should we go get our flag?"

"Let's go."

They didn't have much trouble finding the flag atop a tree branch and with a quick climb from Olivia, they were making a run for it. They came out of left field for the troop of fighters defending the flag on the front line and managed to slip through. According to Annabeth's plan, the blue team's attack team switched into defense and started holding off the red team so Olivia and Luke could make their escape. They crossed the river gloriously and the entire blue team erupted into cheers.

Luke and Olivia were lifted onto the team's shoulders and walked to the pavilion's for dinner. They laughed their entire way there. In the pavilion they started a cheer for Annabeth Chase for the brilliant strategy and the entire team was overjoyed. That high lasted for the entire evening into the bonfire and not even the grumpiest members of the red team were able to resist the contagious joy of the Apollo cabin as they led the sing-along. Bryce was obviously an exception, but he'd get over it. Although Olivia did stick her tongue out at him, which made him sulk in his seat for the rest of the night. After the crowd favorite, an ancient greek song about packing to travel to Olympus, Olivia turned around to see Luke looking at her and smiling.

"What?", she asked, a slow smile spreading to her face as well.

Along with the tiniest bit of blushing when she was Luke's feature's, illuminated by the fire, staring so intently at her own.

"It's just...You really suck at singing."

"Shut up!"

"It's just weird. I mean aren't all of you Apollo kids supposed to be gifted with musicality?"

"I am!"

"You sound like a harpy."

"That's so mean!"

"I'm just being honest!" Luke laughed.

"My archery skills saved your ass today and you still choose to make fun of me?"

"I would've handled it."

"Two spears? You can barely fight against one."

"Bullshit."

"I've beat you more times than I can count with a spear."

"I've beaten you more times than I can count."

"Well you can't count very high, then."

"Okay, tomorrow morning after breakfast, we ditch the kids off to make friendship bracelets or whatever and settle this once and for all."

"Better start stretching, Castellan."

They shook on it.

Despite the hectic day, at night Luke just kept tossing and turning, not able to fall asleep. Although that might’ve been because he didn’t want to sleep, not really. Sleep meant nightmares and he honestly would rather just be tired tomorrow. He pondered going to the Apollo cabin, but he didn’t want to risk waking up Olivia in case she’d actually been able to fall asleep this time. After the party, the first full night either of them had been able to sleep peacefully, it had become more of a routine for them to spend the nights in each others cabins.

But then again Luke also didn’t feel like explaining to everyone (specifically Travis and Connor) that it was actually 100% platonic and they just couldn’t sleep with each other. He’d infact told Travis that if he would like to snuggle Luke to sleep that would probably work. To which Travis said no, but if Olivia needed help he'd be happy to oblige.

Which annoyed Luke so much, even in retrospect that he decided to go to the pier, in case the lake would help him sleep. He smiled when he approached the pier with his blanket to see someone already sitting on the wooden surface.

"Can't sleep?" he smiled as he sat down next to her.

"Didn't want to wake you up incase you'd actually gotten some sleep finally."

"Same."

"Wishful thinking."

"Do you think the others have it this bad?"

"They're not here, so clearly not."

"I don't now why we're so plagued. Or I guess why you are. I suppose I'm meant to have these weird prophetic dreams that I can't make any sense of."

"Being a demigod really is a curse", Luke sighed, moving down so he was now lying on the pier and looking at the stars.

"You know what's crazy? I wouldn't change it", Olivia replied, joining him. "Like if I could start everything over and have my dad be some other deadbeat and not a god I would say no."

Luke turned to face her, she kept her eyes on the stars.

"Because it brought me to you", she continued. "Despite all the monsters and the fights and the dreams, I couldn't imagine a world where I didn't meet you. Where we don't spend every day together.

Luke was quiet.

"You don't have to say it back", now she turned back to him.

They were looking each other in the eyes, faces inches apart.

"I know it's different for you", she almost whispered.

"Different. Meaning my mom might be fine if not for everything", Luke said, eyes glimmering with tears.

"While mine would've still gotten cancer", Olivia responded.

"Imagine if we didn't have to go through all this though", Luke sighed.

"Then we wouldn't be us."

"But it's not fair. It's not fucking fair."

Tears were now running down Luke's face. Olivia reached out a hand to wipe them away.

"We can't get stuck on what would've been, what should've been."

"My mom went crazy because she saw my fate, my fate that's been predetermined that I can't for some reason change. What should've been is all I have Liv."

Tears were now brimming Olivia's eyes as well.

"All those years on the run so I can find this place and my dad still won't talk to me. Again because of my goddamn fate. What kind of bullshit even is that?"

Olivia turned back to look at the stars.

"I'm sorry Liv, I just don't know what to think and I get so worked up and on nights like these where I can't sleep it's tough to find the silver lining like you. I try to be positive, but sometimes I can't."

"Every time I heal someone the first thing I think is could I have healed her."

"What?"

"If I knew then what I know now, would my mom still be alive? Every time I give blood I think if I'd known what it could do then would she still be here?"

She was blinking hard to avoid the tears, but a few strays managed to escape and disappear into her hair.

"And then that thought strays into the fact that my father, who she loved and who presumably loved her, is the literal god of healing and he couldn't bother to heal her."

"Gods are assholes, Liv."

"But then I think, if I had his power, what would I do? Especially since for some part I do. I sometimes think if I should just spend every moment I can donating blood to blood banks so I could save every possible person on the planet, but I can't do that, can I? And the gods can't either Luke. You can't expect them to be able to fix everything."

"Shouldn't be too much effort to claim their children. Maybe even talk to them every once in a while."

"Maybe. Or maybe it is. But I don't really think of them as parents you know? I've thought of myself as an orphan ever since my mom died and finding out I have an omnipotent 'father' didn't really change that. He's like my distant uncle who sometimes sends cards."

"Cards?"

"With lazy poems. Every birthday."

"It's nice he remembers your birthday."

"I guess."

There was another pause. They looked up at the blissful night sky.

"I've been thinking about going to the city", Luke admitted.

"Oh", was Olivia's response.

"I kind of feel like I need a little break. Just a normal day."

"With Sheila."

"With Sheila. And the others too, probably. I'll try to email them from Chiron's computer."

"Sounds nice."

"You could come too."

"I don't really know your friends."

"I'd feel a lot better with you there."

Olivia looked back at Luke.

"In case there's a monster attack or anything", he said.

She turned back on her back.

"Right", was her reply.

"We could look out for each other."

"I don't think I'll come."

"You can meet up with Callie and Meredith too if that's what you want. We can go our separate ways and meet up for ice cream afterwards."

"I don't know, I need to be training Lee in healing and I've already been slacking off with that."

"Just promise you'll think about it."

"I'll think about it."

"Pinky promise?"

Olivia chuckled at that.

"Haven't done one of those since I was like twelve."

"Well might as well do one now", Luke said and grabbed her pinky in his own.

They went silent for a while and when they woke up the next morning, their pinkies were still intertwined.

[deadweightwritings]

MARCH. TWD S4. [snippet]

TWD + Dixon!Reader [S4 Spoilers]

МАРШ - IC3PEAK

YOU CAN’T SEE THE HORIZON BEYOND THESE FENCES.

“Liar.” TWISH. The flying noise of the speared weapon. A squelching sound of an arrow meeting skin echoed on the field. The katana stayed in the Governor’s hand, never meeting Hershel’s neck. Merlot blood squirted and pooled down the Governor’s face, straight from the arrow hanging out the front of his forehead. His body sank to the ground and dropped dead.

“Dead before they hit t’ground. Jus’ how I like it.” Kit whispered to herself in the trees as she prepared to aim again.

Everyone on his side looked behind them, and there was no one to be seen. Kit likes to fuck people up from the trees. Nobody moved as their leader was just shot dead from a fucking shadow in the woods behind them. Now or never, Dixon. Flicking down the welding helmet for protection, Kit strapped her weapons in and dropped to the ground. As everyone on either side of the fence stood still, a roar of a motorcycle echoed across the field.

“Hershel! Michonne! Duck!”

Straight out of the wood shot Kit Dixon on her uncle’s motor vehicle. A machete in her hand, a belt of bombs ready to chuck, and hell of a vendetta. Hershel and Michonne hit the ground below them. Her arm flung out to bite under the mask and roll two grenades below the tanks and cars settled on that side of the fence.

BOOM.  

The blast of the explosion almost knocked her off the motorcycle as she veered around, back to Rick on the other side and facing the damage in front of her. 2 of the 3 tanks are on their side or on fire, the ground is smoked to all hell. And people are dead in piles.

Michonne is already equipped with her sword, and throws a rifle to Hershel as she helps him up once the smoke clears.

“KIT!” Screams Rick, and she whirls her head to face him and sees him pointing frantically to her left and right. Two cars are coming toward her hot. Her hand finds her trusty pistol and in three shots, she shoots the two front tires out and the windshield. There’s gunfire all around her and the car to her left is taken out by her dad and Maggie. She looks beyond and finds one tank coming straight at her.

“GET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE!” Daryl’s voice splays through the field, anger and worry carrying his voice. Revving up Merle’s ride, she looked at the hole in the fence that lead to her people and her dad, whilst the other lead to Hershel and Michonne. Releasing the clutch, she swerved around the tank, the main gun pivoted to follow her movement and her heart jumped. Not a cool way to go out, Dixon. Kit started swaying in her path, making a ‘Z’ in the way she was riding toward Hershel. Kit knows a modern tank can turn 360 degrees but goes against all odds and bolts to get her people. An explosion sounds behind her, and she knows one of the towers had been knocked clean down. Huffing, she’s still cruising to victory.

Pounding of adrenaline in her veins kept her flying towards the pair surrounded by the dead she killed, skidding to a stop, she motioned for the two to climb on. Michonne refused, wanting to take care of the walker’s about to sprout up. Hershel got on the back of her motorcycle, arms around her and she sped off. Hold on, Hershel. Kit pivoted so hard she though she would have tipped them both over, she rocketed to the hole in the fence where her dad was crouched, shooting a machine gun like no one’s business. She felt a bullet ricochet off the motorcycle and peered behind her, seeing a man with a rifle and shot him point blank with a pistol. POW.

Sliding past the broken fence, she skidded to a stop, kicking up dust as Beth and Maggie got to Hershel’s side. Kit sadly let the vehicle tip to the dirt as another explosion hit a wall behind her, throwing her through the air, into the fence. CRASH.

“Kit!” Ripped through Daryl’s throat. 20 second’s pass. Dazed and confused, Kit blink’s as she tastes dirt and blood in her mouth. Half the world is blocked out by her shot down ear from childhood. She barely hears that man call and scream for her, as ringing and pops fill her senses. Kit rolls onto her back, blood running down her forehead into one of her eyes as she winced and hissed. She still saw the blue sky above. Man, I’m beat. The eyelids flicker over the stone-colored eyes and—

“Girl, you get ter yer feet right this instance! I ain’t gonna ask you twice!” The loudest fucking voice just ripped through both her ears, yes both, and Kit shot up. Merle stood over her, hands on his beltloops and sour look on his face, she was sure he was going to spit at her, looking so pathetic.

“To hell wit you if you think you can die after a stunt like that, honey!” She swore to whatever God above that he grabbed her by her shoulders and hoisted her up to her feet, ears and body buzzing. After that she found her legs stumbling for cover,

“That’s it, Kit, keep walkin’.” The world around her was made out of blurry blocks, shit shooting everywhere and almost no noise reaching her ear. Except her uncle yelling at her.

“Grab the rifle, grab a weapon, dammit girl!” Reaching for her back, she messily swung the rifle to her front, nearly losing her grip of the gun. Kit felt a weight on her shoulder, and she liked to think it was Merle guiding her dazed ass through the prison grounds. Kit shook her head multiple time, trying to see straight but it didn’t do shit. Why is Merle here? Where’s my dad? Where’s Rick? Where’s anybody?

“To your left, kid!” Whipping to that direction, her eyesight fully locked on 3 walkers charging toward her. Lining the weapon up, she fired. BANG. BANG. BANG. Those three shots nearly made her black out, Kit is so fucking exhausted. The way she moved, she told herself she practically looked like a walker. Almost made her laugh out loud.

“Good girl, Kit. You better stay alive, missy.” Those words made her blink hard, hearing her uncle’s voice say that to her, caused her to wake up. Still dragging her feet, she jogged to where the fence was—BOOM. A wave of boiling heat washed over her face, as if she wasn’t already fucked up right now. There’s fire and smoke coming out of a tank, and she sees the dirty angel wings on the back of a jacket. Now she’s running to them. She’s next to them and her dad whirls around,

“Jesus Christ, Kit!” He grabs her ashen arm and pulls her along, her feet slap against the ground because she’s so weary and everything is wishy-washy. They dodge, duck and shoot their way through until they run into Beth.

“Maggie! Have you seen her, Daryl, Kit?!”

“No, Beth, we have to go! We gotta go!” Kit slings her arm around Beth’s shoulder’s, making her duck as they bolt out of the prison and into the woods. The crunch of the leaves hit their boots, they’re not worried about being quiet, they’re worried about surviving through this war the Governor brought on. The quarry is split even further, and Kit doesn’t know if they will ever reconvene after this hell.  

You better stay alive, missy.

WHO IS OUT THERE IN THE STREETS BESIDES THE COLD?

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Abigail Shrier

Published: May 3, 2024

Frat parties with offensive themes are swiftly punished. But publicly contemplate murdering Zionists? That’s a different story.

A police officer who pulls over speeding black motorists—and only black motorists—isn’t protecting “law and order.” He’s engaging in invidious discrimination. So too the university administrators who suddenly discover they are free speech absolutists only when student protesters call for the death of their Jewish classmates.

In January, a junior at Columbia University, Khymani James, told a disciplinary committee at the school that Zionists “don’t deserve to live.” “Be grateful that I’m just not going out and murdering Zionists,” he instructed them. Then, James headed back to campus, scot-free. (If he hadn’t also posted a recording of the meeting to his social media site, discovered four months later, there might never have been any repercussions at all.)

It was the sort of stunt a star quarterback for the football team could have gotten away with a generation or two ago, when college coaches might have been eager to sweep sexual assault allegations under the rug. Or the son of a major donor to the university. James apparently enjoys a level of privilege every bit as sacrosanct: as a leader of the pro-Palestinian encampment at an Ivy League school, he could threaten Jewish students at his pleasure, university codes of conduct be damned.

If there was ever doubt whether calling for the genocide of Jews violates Columbia’s code of conduct, on April 23, Rep. Suzanne Bonamici (D-OR) asked four Columbia University professors and administrators this explicitly. Every one of them said: “Yes, it does.” As for the encampments, they violate Columbia’s Rules of University Conduct, disruptive behavior standards, university policy regarding “tenting,” disciplinary rules against “vandalism/damage to property,” unauthorized “access/egress” rules as well as Columbia’s policy against harassment, according to a Notice to Encampment circulated by the university.

In the last two weeks, self-proclaimed pro-Palestinian protesters have set up encampments at dozens of American universities. Heedless of university restrictions against intimidation and harassment, they demonstrate where, when, and how they like. They cry “Go back to Poland,” “baby killers,” and “globalize the Intifada” at Jewish students. They wave the flags of designated terrorist groups, like Hezbollah and the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, and hold up signs that beckon “Al-Qasam’s Next Targets,” with an arrow pointing at Jewish counterprotesters. (Al-Qassam is the wing of Hamas that carried out the October 7 massacre.)

On campuses that have—for a decade or more—repeated ad nauseam that priority one was the creation of a “safe, inclusive, supportive, and fair” community, the pro-Palestinian demonstrators wave Hezbollah flags, wear Hamas headbands, and conceal their faces with masks. They ignore all time, place, and manner restrictions on student demonstrations set by their schools, and refuse all demands from the universities to take down their tents or to move their protests elsewhere. And at Columbia, until April 30, when protesters took over Columbia’s Hamilton Hall and the NYPD was at last called in, they almost got away with it. 

At UCLA, protesters blocked students from entering the library during the midterms, asking those who wished to enter: “Are you a Zionist?” After a Jewish girl was reportedly beaten unconscious by pro-Palestinian protesters, pro-Israel counterprotesters at UCLA arrived in masks and hoodies, shooting off fireworks, firing tear gas, and throwing objects at the pro-Hamas protesters and attempting to physically destroy the encampments. Only then did UCLA call in the police to remove the encampments.

Instead of immediately suspending the pro-Hamas protesters for breaking university rules, for weeks, university administrations instead chose to “negotiate” with the rule-breakers. At Columbia, the administration offered to review its policy on “socially responsible investing” (read: divesting from the world’s only Jewish state), and offered to “make investments in health and education in Gaza.” At Brown, the administration promised protesters that they would put divestment from Israel on the agenda. At Northwestern, the administration meekly tossed rewards, including the promise to establish a full-ride scholarship for Palestinian students and guaranteed faculty jobs for Palestinian academics. 

At Columbia, protesters rejected the offers, knowing they had the upper hand. When police arrived to break up the encampments, Columbia faculty in orange vests linked arms to form a human wall against the police, shielding the rule-breakers.

[ Faculty of Columbia University link arms to protect students inside threatened with suspension if they refused to voluntarily dismantle the pro-Palestine encampment on campus by 2 pm on April 29, 2024. ]

The lengths administrators have gone to placate, encourage, and embolden the pro-Hamas protesters in the past weeks provide a signal reminder that there are at least two sets of rules governing elite universities today: one for the favored, protected class; the other for everyone else. And in case anyone has any doubt which category Jewish students fall into, the unwillingness of universities to enforce their own codes of conduct against pro-Hamas protesters in the months since October 7 should disabuse them.

Consider how racist speech (or even racially insensitive speech) has been received on virtually any major American campus for decades. 

In 2017, an anonymous jerk put flyers up around American University’s campus. The flyers displayed a Confederate flag, a stem of raw cotton, and read “Huzzah for Dixie” and the like.

American University immediately launched into emergency response mode, treating the flyers as a criminal threat. It published CCTV video and solicited help from the public in identifying the man who posted the flyers. An all points bulletin called “CRIME ALERT” went out for the man’s arrest. The New York Times covered the incident; the words “free speech” do not appear once in the article. Instead, it approvingly noted that in a previous incident—when bananas were found hanging from nooses around campus—the FBI had been called to investigate. 

Nor could I find any evidence of any free speech organization rushing to defend the man who posted the flyers—nor the racist provocateurs in any of dozens of similar incidents. No prominent “free speech absolutists” appear to have considered the expressive value of “Huzzah for Dixie” worth defending. Nor did pundits claim that inviting law enforcement to investigate such acts of hate—i.e., “calling the police on your own students”—was in any sense inappropriate or disproportionate. In almost every single case—at schools like Stanford, Johns Hopkins, Michigan State, University of Florida, Duke, and American University—where a symbolic noose was discovered on a campus, it was treated as a criminal threat, never as speech. 

After the Huzzah for Dixie flyers were found, the president of American University quickly issued a statement: “I ask you to join me in standing together and show that we will not be intimidated. AU will respond strongly to attempts designed to harm and create fear,” she wrote. “When one of us is attacked, all of us are attacked.”

Today, in the face of months of bloodthirsty cries aimed at Jewish students (“globalize the Intifada”), university presidents line up to assure the protesters of their right to free speech. 

In the abstract, if “Huzzah for Dixie” is worth the full mobilization of university resources and law enforcement, then waving the flag of a terrorist group, or writing “burn you filthy zio” to a student chat, or telling Jewish students to “go back to Poland” where millions of Jews were murdered in gas chambers, or pulling down the American flag over a statue of John Harvard and replacing it with the Palestinian flag, or painting “Ziosgetfuckt” on UPenn’s statue of Ben Franklin, or calling Jews “Hitler’s children”—all insults hurled at Jews on campus—are at least as menacing. 

But in practice, the two types of incidents—rather, the two targets of the incidents—are treated entirely differently. Punishment is meted out swiftly and mercilessly, and with no consideration for free speech principles, any time Confederate flag flyers are posted, any time students hold culturally insensitive themed frat parties, any time colleges uncover student use of the N-word while in high school (or even a word in Mandarin that sounds like the N-word), or even when students or faculty make the familiar conservative argument that affirmative action sets black students up to fail. Rinse and repeat and repeat.

Speech on college campuses has been stultifyingly narrow—and very far from free—for decades. That pro-Hamas students cheer freely for “intifada” doesn’t make it any freer now. The fact that certain students are allowed to call for the death of their Jewish classmates does not herald a new era of free expression. It only underscores that some bigotries enjoy the official sanction of these schools, and are accepted, tolerated, and rewarded with special dispensations and, indeed, goodies.

Use of the N-word on campus or misgendering a classmate will no doubt be met with as swift punitive consequences as they have been for decades, as have a vast and more minute array of “microaggressions.” I invite anyone who doubts this to parade through any of our elite campuses with insulting cartoon depictions of the Prophet Muhammad. 

After weeks of violent, destructive protest, which left campuses trashed and buildings damaged and graffitied, administrators have at last begun to enforce their own rules and call in the police. Perhaps they felt they had no choice: commencement ceremonies loom and lawsuits, recently filed by Jewish students, are on the way. 

But watch the marble carefully as university administrators spin the cups. When a favored group is attacked, they discover a “community safety” concern with remarkable alacrity. When it’s a disfavored group, suddenly the cup reveals “free expression.” The game is fixed, and the administrators show their hands. “Community safety,” or was it “free speech”? Surprise! They don’t believe in either. 

[paperanddice]

Taiga giants form small nomadic groups within boreal forests. Not as inured to the cold as frost giants, they stay in more comfortable environments and have drifted apart over time, developing a very different culture. Rather than subsisting on raids and slave produced materials, they hunt wild animals and carry a deep reverence for their ancestors, which has evolved into an innate and primal kind of magic. They can call forth spirits of their ancestors to create a defensive barrier, allowing them to see the invisible and through false images, as well as helping block attacks and absorb elements. While they are not as aggressively hostile as frost giants, they do not take well to smaller beings encroaching on their travels and hunting the prey they rely on, and often get into conflicts with humanoids.

Wood giants live in the deepest parts of more temporal forests, and have set themselves as guardians and tenders for these wilds. Slender and lithe for a giant, they weave between trees rapidly, and prefer ranged combat over melee whenever possible. They barrage arrows down upon intruders who damage the woods they oversee, but will also cautiously observe those who they don't see doing so. Such visitors may never realize they are being watched, as these 14 foot tall giants are shockingly stealthy, and if you pass through without disturbing the environment too much they won't interfere. Rarely do they engage with visitors at all, only doing so when pressed or when visiting the occasional elvish settlement for trade. Unlike many other giants, they are primarily herbivorous, only eating meat out of necessity.

Inspired by the Pathfinder 1e Bestiary 2. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Taiga Giant  Large 8th level blocker [giant]  Initiative: +11 Greatspear +13 vs. AC – 70 damage. Natural Even Hit or Miss: The target takes a -5 penalty to disengage checks (save ends). R: Thrown Boulder +11 vs. PD (one nearby or far away enemy) – 35 damage. Natural Even Miss: 15 damage. Ancestral Spirits: The taiga giant has a protective aura created by its ancestors. While this aura is active, the giant has true seeing (it ignores invisibility and illusions), can’t be confused, and it can use a quick action once per turn to gain a +2 bonus to AC and PD until the start of its next turn. Once per round, as an interrupt action, the giant can gain resist damage 16+ against one of the following damage types: acid, cold, fire, lightning, psychic, or thunder. If the giant takes full damage from the triggering attack, it loses all the benefits of ancestral spirits for the rest of the battle. Long Spear: Once per round, as an interrupt action, the giant can make a greatspear attack against a moving nearby creature it is not engaged with: on a natural even hit, the movement stops. AC 23 PD 21 MD 20 HP 266

Wood Giant  Large 5th level archer [giant]  Initiative: +11 Giant Sized Sword +9 vs. AC – 20 damage. R: Giant Longbow +10 vs. AC (one nearby or far away enemy) – 22 damage. Intercepting Arrow: When an enemy moves to engage the wood giant, the giant can make a saving throw; on a success, the giant can make a giant longbow attack before the enemy engages it. Tree Climber: The wood giant can climb trees effortlessly, but stone walls and other similar surfaces aren’t so simple. Twin Arrows: The wood giant can make two giant longbow attacks, each against a different target, with a -2 penalty to the attack rolls. AC 20 PD 19 MD 15 HP 148