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goddamnitdazai · 3 years

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Doldrums | Dazai {AU}

The Tea House is the only clean place in all of the three outlying territories; the capital and castle are overflowing with gold. There's boredom in both places and freedom in neither. Dazai finds the only way to amuse himself and you're just curious enough to agree. {fic under the cut} [ao3 link] x [patreon]

The long reign of the king ended unexpectedly. Within the first few months of the king’s death, the prodigal heir to the throne was crowned the one-hundred-and-fifteen King of Tartalya. Despite what the royal family toted to the public the new king only resembled his father in strategical demeanor. The prince’s (now king) features were prominent and sharp whereas the previous king had cheeks still plump with baby fat and a wide smile. Prince Osamu never smiled; that was the rumor anyway.

Per Tartalya tradition the new king was married within the first month of his new position. His wife, the dutchess of a rich port territory, fawned over him endlessly. A polished depiction of what Tartalya’s queen should be. Sweet, humble, and above all else, proper. Tartalya’s prior king required indisputable perfection within his court and their partners. Any imperfections were snuffed out quicker than a strong wind extinguishes a candle. The ruthless king’s only heir was no exception to these strict expectations; a rumor from the high court states the prince’s wife was picked when they were both ten years old due to her bloodline, manners, and demeanor. Rumors from the high courts were often stretched and dissected until they resembled fables, but there was truth to some extent. That is what you were taught to believe anyway. Take the words of a man with as you would an ill-cooked gift; chew with conviction then spit it out when their back is turned. You were taught this of all rumors and of all men. Of the region claimed by Tarayla’s century-old monarch, only three territories have been allowed to rule without direct sanctions from the high court or prince. They are considered the dark outliers in both qualities of life and the quality of inhabitants. These three territories provide shelter for merchants coming to port looking to gamble and drink, criminals from other territories seeking asylum, and those who are not able to afford a single room within the cheapest region of Tartayla’s kingdom. Like many of the other inhabitants born in Valnnin, your mother chose to leave you at the Tea House under the care of the Ozaki clan the day after you’d turned five. She was paid a handsome fee and signed a contract never to return to the Tea House. Supposedly, many women bear children simply to drop them at the Tea House for the reward. That rumor was not hard to believe given the state of Valnnin. Decent money offered the means to escape Valnnin to the closest region in Tartayla, Soinet, where large farms sit on rolling green hills lush with purple fruit that grows plentiful on tall trees. Anyone who made it out of Valnnin stayed out; by starvation or success. A part of you hoped your mother starved. There are worse fates in Valnnin than the Ozaki’s Tea House, though. Bred with a sharp wit and long cherry-red hair the Ozaki clan were well known all over Tartayla for their refined charisma and elegant beauty. Some of these traits were able to be passed on to the right young men and women making the courtesans of the Tea House the highest priced commodity in all of the three territories. Top earners are allowed to live in the lavish rooms on the top floor of the Tea House. The Ozaki house, a four-tier traditional home lit with gold paper lanterns and endless vines wrapped over a cobblestone bridge, sits across the Tea House. The watchful guardian for the inhabitants of the Tea House. Other than becoming part of a legacy family in Valnnin, like the Ozaki, the best living was at the top of the Tea House. Residing in the middle, for now, was comfortable enough. “___, dear you’re staring.’ Kouyou tuts, whacking your knee with her lace fan. When her fan is fully spread the gold filigree becomes a long winding dragon sifting through the clouds. A well-known symbol of the Ozaki clan. The dragon is imprinted throughout the Tea House and stamped on the inside of each girl’s wrist in gold ink. Ownership and protection, that is what they preached while poking your skin with a hot needle. “Is that potted ivy really that intriguing? It must be with how rude you’re being during our conversation.” Her long manicured nail brushes over your nose to draw your attention. Her touch instantaneously forces your shoulders to go rigid as your eyes drop to your lap. Kouyou’s sharp nails bite at your jawline. “Don’t be rude to our company tonight. Understood?” You nod, wincing a bit at her grip. Kouyou-san only showed this type of intensity with newer girls in order to hammer in the traditions of the Tea House. You, however, had been here for fifteen long years and knew every twist and turn. Your familiarity had risen to the point that you and the other girls made wages on some of the staff’s mood based on an eyebrow quirk or tense knuckle. For the most part, you won each round. Kouyou-san did insist your looks and keen eye made for a high commodity, however, the blessings around your features were not as god-like as some of the girls. You were sure they came from a line of Queens and Goddesses long before humanity stomped over the grasslands. “Kouyou-san, I don’t understand why you won’t inform me who I am waiting for.” You shift uncomfortably in your silk robe. The pillow beneath your knees had become a hardened lump of clay that was sure to leave bruises. “Using the gold room is above my station.” “It is.” Kouyou agrees without an ounce of hesitation. If you were allowed to show your true emotions a dark frown laden with knitted brows would be reflecting back at Kouyou. Tea house manners forbade any type of backtalk, verbal or otherwise, toward the ladies of the house. It had been a long time since your feet had been whipped into a bloody mess due to your expressions. “You should be thankful a man of high caliber is interested in your company.” You exhale through your nose and adjust the pillow subtly just for something to grab and ease the tension rising up your spine. The golden room was incredibly expensive and reserved for foreign clientele or a man rich enough to buy the country twice over. What you could gather from the maids who set the room was scarcely what you could consider good information but their gossiping mouths let out that the changes were due to the man’s incredibly specific taste. Instead of immaculate gaudy golden candles, simple paper lanterns were hung in shades of red that bounced off the polished wood walls. The marble table had been replaced with a smaller traditional one stacked high with poker chips and two crystal glasses. A bottle of imported whisky more expensive than the entirety of Valnnin had been staring back at you for the better part of an hour. Jewels from all over the country were heaped into woven baskets spilling out their glittering gemstones of blues, pinks, reds, and purples. One stone looked as big as your palm. Within the baskets, bracelets, and necklaces sparkle and hang over the rim like a used handkerchief tossed in the garbage. Money can’t buy taste, you think to yourself, though you wouldn’t mind pocketing some of those jewels to sell later. Abruptly the double doors open and the lanterns are snuffed out. Above your head dangles an imported odd-shaped light with arms extending outwards holding each white candle as if it were trying to scorch the walls. Kouyou stands to greet the unknown guest. Gliding across the wooden floor as a swan crosses a lake. You remain perfectly poised. Long red dress stretching out your arms to pool against your thighs. The Tea House provided silk garments for expensive clients that showed skin without being over-zealous. A strong dip in the back revealing your spine for wandering fingers. Bare shoulders for teeth to graze and tease. Your lips had been painted deep red to accentuate a pout worthy of a diamond necklace. Beyond Kouyou’s tall stance you barely make out the rough edges of a man much taller than Kouyou. “Enjoy your time, sir. Please, let me know if I can do anything to be more accommodating.” Kouyou’s bow is deep and longer than usual. The man doesn’t bow back. The guards that had accompanied him to the golden room remain on the other side of the screen door once it’s closed, another uncommon occurrence. You get to your feet and walk towards the man in the same manner Kouyou did. You’d done this a hundred times. A thousand. Something high up, but there was an odd sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. Circling the pit of your belly like a serpent through the grass. “Good evening. Who do I have the pleasure of spending time with? I’m afraid my tongue has gone numb in excitement.” The man chuckles and takes a step forward; you take in his form with a simple blink. His hair is an unruly slue of dark browns overlapping each other held back by a deep ruby pin, an odd style but the capital tended to couple foreign fashion with traditional garments. The stranger is incredibly tall, thin, wearing traditional Tartayla clothing though the crest on his lapel doesn’t ring a bell. It did not mirror the crests members of the court wore nor the men stationed beneath them. Scribes, military, footmen, all members of the palace wore crests revealing their status to the world. A palace aid, even, would be able to afford the golden room for a night. “That’s a lie.” He takes another few steps towards you. Swift. His long legs easily bring him close enough for you to smell his cologne. Expensive and foreign. “I specifically told Ozaki not to speak my name. A clever way to ask without asking.” You blink rapidly but hold your ground, folding your hands politely in front of your thighs. His stare is honey lined with liquid gold. “As expected of a woman raised in the Tea House.” “I did not want to seem ill-prepared.” You finally answer, “It is uncommon to not know the name of my companion prior to meeting.” Nicknames--you roll through the most requested, but none of them fit. He bends a bit, you expect a hand on your cheek or your chin; he grips your throat. Contracting your airways with an eerily gentle touch. “You can address me as Dazai, nothing else.” His gaze remains ice cold. Something about the name bubbles up and up until your mouth unintentionally drops open just enough to let out a silent gasp. Prince Dazai. If he would let go of your chin you could bow to him but he anchors himself to the ground. “Ah, there it is. I can let go that you did not recognize me considering we let the territories exist as an extension. Not much royalty passing through here? What a scandal~”. He releases your jaw and walks over to the table in the center of the room. Out of instinct, you follow behind with your head bowed just slightly. What would the prince be doing here? You presumed when royal blood desired the flesh of someone else other than their betrothed they found it easily among the many women of the court. “Dazai, what is it you desire tonight?” Common phrases of your trade finally return once your tongue has melted off the shock. “Business.” He states, taking a seat on the plush pillows. “Come, and don’t speak unless I ask you a question.” Dazai pats his hand on his lap as he speaks. You follow his command and walk yourself to his lap. The scent of him is overwhelmingly pleasing in comparison to the other men that have requested this position. With your back against his chest, you can feel the ruffle of fabric on your bare skin from his vest, it’s an interesting sensation. You’d never felt this type of material before. “Now,” Dazai starts voice a rich smoky tenor, “you will come with me to the capital and sit just like this. You won’t speak, you won’t move, you won’t do a thing except look as you do now.” He drags his knuckles down your spine. “All you need to know is that. What lies in this room,” he lazily gestures to the jewels in the collapsing baskets, “will be your payment.” All you can do is nod dumbly. What the hell did he want you at the capital for? To be a lap ornament? What a strange request. You want to say no, to tell him you’re much more than a porcelain doll to play with. Your wit and charm has made you the favorite of so many men of his own court. Dazai presses his nose to the curve between your throat and shoulder. “You may ask one question but make it quick, I dislike having to ride home during the day.” Dazai gave you information without giving you detail. The bare-bones without an explanation or purpose, but he was the prince. You couldn’t pester him for more like your regulars who gave vague requests--of which you denied regardless of what it was. Taking a courtesan out of the Tea House was strictly forbidden. There was no amount that would interest the Ozaki women to allow their charges to leave the premises with a client. Every person had their price, though, it should have been obvious considering your line of work. “Am I to be a lap ornament for your entertainment or to prove a point to another person?” Dazai pauses his hand on your spine. For a moment your heart freezes--until he begins to laugh. Harmonious and cheerful, it almost sounds sweet but the tingle in your spine tells you otherwise. “Both,” Dazai places his hand on your thigh giving the soft flesh a tight squeeze, “but the latter. I don’t find very much of this world entertaining in the slightest.” Abruptly his teeth graze the shell of your ear as his hand wanders beneath your silk dress finding the edge of your hipbone. “This is just to waste time.” __________________________ Jealousy was not something prince Dazai experienced. However, the man across from you seemed to be dripping green with it. You vaguely recognized him, a court-appointed general from the land across the sea. The name escaped you, anytime he appeared at the Tea House for your attention his words sank to the bottom of your consciousness. His conversation was as dull and his hands were fat with sausage-like fingers that didn’t know how to properly undo the knots that held your dress together at the side. He never had enough money other than to converse for twenty minutes and stare at your nude body. Prior to the meeting, Dazai had walked you through the main courtyard filled lined with enormous evergreen trees and rose bushes taller than your shoulders. Members of the royal court bowed and held their tongues as you passed. Your clothing served as a clear indicator of your position in the Tea House. Dazai had made it a point to dress you in the most elegant outfit the Tea House allowed. Draped in gold and black with hints of deep scarlet beneath the split up your thigh. The palace was, unsurprisingly, massive in size and stature. Getting lost for hours within its corridors and monumental rooms seemed inevitable. Had Dazai let you wander from his side. “Do not speak or move without my permission.” His only warning punctuated with a sharp slap to your ass. While the meeting went on Dazai’s hands grew increasingly curious in tandem with his ever-rising boredom. Beneath the table, his fingers roamed between your legs never touching where you wanted. They drew teasing circles just outside your lower lips. Dug crescents into the meat of your inner thighs. The longer the meeting went on the higher his hands reached. Inside the deep cut of your dress to squeeze your breast while he spoke about the outcome of a fictional war the general had threatened, apparently. Something about trade prices rising. Anything happening beyond Dazai’s grip wasn’t sticking to your psyche. By the time the meeting was finished sweat was beading down the back of your neck. Your cheeks had grown hot to the touch and your clit was aching for touch. Dazai simply stood expecting you to catch yourself. “You will not be returning to the Tea House.” It was all he said before two guards escorted you down a long corridor lined with paintings of the royal bloodline. ___________________________________ The first time he fucked you the moon had appeared in splendor. Bright and bold against dark skies empty of stares and clouds. His wife had requested him to come to bed early. Her long dark hair falling in gentle curls illuminated by the candelabra she held in her fist. You watched from the corner of his study as Dazai used that talented tongue of his to herd her back to bed. Once the door was shut and locked with a metal key Dazai bent you over his desk and fucked you deep and slow. He left bite marks on your neck and laughed when you begged so pathetically to cum around his cock. At first, there was nothing inside him. No emotion to his touch and no passion beyond the carnal desire to fuck you when he needed release. His wife would often stare at you when you passed in the corridors trying to find some sort of entertainment. You had heard nothing of your position at the palace nor had anyone questioned your existence there. Dazai demanded you stay within his sights at all times and would punish you with hard slaps to your bare ass when you wandered too far. He was the softest after he left a red handprint on your behind. He’d cradle you in his arms and call you pretty things like a lover would. It only served to deepen your confusion in both your own feelings for him and what he wanted out of your existence in his life. _______________________________________ The queen’s illness came on rapidly and without a cause. She was pale with a fever and sickly looking. Her skin stretched over the bones of her face and her eyes looked glass. Nothing the doctors were doing had made a difference. She existed on her large bed surrounded by basins of water and broth, her ladies in waiting rotated washing her and feeding her the best they could. She couldn’t move on her own accord except to speak in a low muddled voice. Dazai did not visit her often. After a week she had been moved to her own room down two corridors and across from the King’s quarters. The bed was burned and the room scrubbed clean until it glistened. Dazai didn’t ask, he never did. When your room turned up empty you knew to find him in his quarters. His long legs propped up on the ottoman beside the window, fingers over his favorite book gifted by a friend long gone from this world. His touch had become gentle in the past few weeks. You presumed, at first, it was due to his grieving and perhaps guilt for the affair. Yet he did not change the frequency in which he kissed you, fucked you, held you against his chest for a few minutes before he eventually left the bed to finish whatever work he’d thrown across the floor when he grew too aggravated or bored. Nights he wanted to fall off the edge of the world he tied your hands to the bed and played with your body until sunrise. Dazai left his mark where he pleased. Nothing felt as good as his hands, his attention, his tongue. Rarely did he ever keep himself on top. No, he expected you to ride him. Make him cum while he watched you grow addicted to the feeling of his cock inside of you. ______________________ Dazai had to produce an heir, he said, one morning while you’d been eating breakfast at his side. His wife could not fulfill that duty while sick. You pause for a moment and set your glass down. Looking at him as the sun rises behind his head. “You know I can’t have children.” Part of the process of becoming part of the Tea House; everyone went through the procedure. “What do you plan to do?” Dazai wipes his mouth with a napkin. “What makes you believe I haven’t already finished what I planned to do?” He places his elbows on the table and folds his fingers beneath his chin. That same gaze from the day you met him in the golden room returning to douse you in something unsettling. You blink at him and lean back in your chair. “As long as the queen remains alive you are not able to marry another. You will be expected to wait to have a child with your wife when she is well again.” Dazai tilts his head. “I don’t want children.” He says nonchalantly. “Dazai..” What makes you believe I haven’t already finished what I planned to do? “Dazai.” His grin spreads wide, eyes darkening despite the light from the windows splashing halycon all over the room. “Eat up, _____. I’m growing bored.”

#dazai #dazai osamu #bsd #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #dazai fanfic #my writing dazai #fantasy au #dazai au #bsd fanfic #dazai is kind of a dick #what a surprise #dazai one shot

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armorabs · 3 years

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man once again i am thinking about the fact that mr krabs blames himself for how plankton turned out. because of mr krabs blaming himself so many people thinks that means its actually his fault but like, objectively its all planktons fault. krabs didn’t steal anything, and krabs didnt start a fight, and krabs didnt MAKE plankton do ANYTHING - plankton just did that to himself cuz hes an idiot

PLANKTON instigated a fight with his best friend simply because his best friend wanted to defend a close family friend who practically helped raise him, and when the fight escalated to a torn recipe PLANKTON walked away - WALKED AWAY!!!! he wasn’t flung out or thrown out or robbed, he simply WALKED AWAY - with his half of the planned formula, and then when his decision to walk away backfired and he wasn’t instantly proven to be the superior crustacean between the two he dedicated himself to trying to steal what he left krabs and then ruin him

(despite that there are several episodes that show that he does still like and care about krabs deep down, but doesn’t know how to cope with or express it because he’s been so thoroughly warped by ambition and wrath and his complex with being seen as superior - they were best friends for a reason, after all)

the formula krabs has now isn’t even the one he worked on with plankton so plankton can’t claim ownership of it in any way shape or form - in multiple ways. one, because plankton’s tantrum resulted in the contamination of their combined efforts after he had already left and thus had no intentional involvement in what would become the krabby patty secret recipe, and two, because krabs had to reinvent it again after he’d forgotten the formula after the written recipe was destroyed before, so that was complete trial and error on his part and plankton wasn’t involved with that either... so... plankton has absolutely no claims of ownership over the krabby patty secret recipe

and, also, krabs lets plankton off easy (almost never presses charges or calls the cops on him for theft or destruction of property)(which is probably because we know for a fact that HE still likes and cares about plankton but also understands that there is still a huge conflict between them that creates a barrier between truly rekindling their friendship until it’s ever resolved - but how can it be resolved when their goals conflict that way? how can it be resolved if he needs to stay afloat, and plankton getting his way would counter that??) and

#genrebent spongebob analysis hour

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ladyfluffbutt · 3 years

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The Forest Witch

TrollSon AU by madjesters1 . I don’t claim ownership of the AU I was just bored at work and wrote something with my character.

Bear in mind it’s been a rrreeaaallllllyyyy long time since I’ve written anything.

———————-

Jim ran as fast his his small legs could carry him. He’d snuck out of Trollmarket and away from Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! with one goal in mind; wanting to get AAARRRGGHH!!! some VHS tapes.

What the boy hadn’t counted on was accidentally splattering a Goblin while he was digging through the local landfill.

Now the poor 7-year-old was running for his life from a horde of bloodthirsty gangly monsters.

“HELP!!! DAD!!! KANJIGAR!!!” He screamed once more at the top of his lungs, only to hear the angry calls of the goblins behind him. Tears streamed from his face as he dodged trees and rocks, running for his life but tiring from the exertion.

He was bound to trip, he knew this. Despite trying so hard to avoid any obstacle he could see in the light of the full moon. It was a root that snagged him. His ankle twisted painfully and Jim crashed to the ground with a cry of agony.

He tried desperately to get back to his feet but the ankle throbbed and refused to take any of with weight. The goblins quickly closed what little distance he’d managed to put between himself and them. Jim whimpered and dragged himself close to a tree.

“I-I don’t wanna die! H-HELP!!!!!!” He choked out as he started sobbing, eye shut tightly.

He heard the goblins charge but the sound was quickly snuffed out by the sudden roar of fire. He smelled the stench of burning ozone and goblin, but didn’t dare open his eyes yet. The sound of screeching goblins and slashing of a blade though finally gave him the courage to finally peek out from his curled up position.

The space around him was littered squished and charred goblins and patches of burning blue and white fire lay strewn about.

Another slashing sound and dying shriek of a goblin came from behind his tree. Jim quickly moved to spot the source.

“KANJI-!?!”

Standing some six feet away currently dispatching another pesky goblin was...not the Trollhunter. In fact he wasn’t sure if it was a troll at all.

It was a human.

Their shirt was hooded but Jim was sure they were human. The blade they held was shorter than Daylight and a very different shape. It looked like a double edged short sword, if he was remembering what he’d learned in Blinky’s weaponry books correctly. With a quick swing of the black blade the stranger dispatched two more goblins. The edges of the blade seemed to glow like they were in a forge. He could hear the hiss of burning flesh and goblin guts. He did his best to not focus on the putrid smell and took in their appearance.

They wore a black sleeveless top that cut off at their midriff but on the back it tapered down like a cape and ended just a few inches from the ground.

A thick black and golden belt held place midway down their hips. The buckle was shimmering gold and made up of ornate curves. There were even some satchels and holsters attached to it. He could see some glowing vials and crystals stored on the holsters.

The screech of a charging goblin quickly took Jim’s attention away from his mysterious rescuer. He shrieked and quickly scrambled away from the creature, heading right to them and hugging their leg tightly.

The turned quickly and brought the glowing short sword down on the goblin, ending its warpath with minimal effort.

The few remaining goblins retreated into the dark forest, disappearing from sight.

Jim still clung to the leg of his savior and stared out into the shadows of the trees. A hand suddenly came to rest on the top of his head.

“They’re gone, child. No need to fear them any longer.”

The boy jumped a bit at the soft voice and finally looked up at the face of the person he was clinging to. Freckles dotted everywhere under her deep blue eyes and on the bridge of her nose. Her waves hair was the color of fire and mostly pulled back, hidden under her hood. There was a thin light scar across her lower left cheek down to her jawline.

“Pretty…” was the first thing that came to the child’s mind.

She smiled down at him and gave a soft chuckle. “Is there something fascinating about my face, little one?”

“Oh! S-Sorry,” Jim apologized as he looked down. “I-I was just thinking of how pretty you are, miss. I’m sorry I stared.”

She was silent for a moment before she let out another chuckle and ruffled his hair gently. “Aren’t you a sweetheart. There’s no need to apologize. Now then,” her sword turned to ash and vanished as she knelt down in front of him, “what are you doing so far out into the forest at night? It’s not safe.”

It took Jim a moment to respond, awestruck by her magic weapon vanishing. “I-I was just getting something for my Dad a-and I accidentally squished a goblin and got chased.”

“Your father sent you out into the woods in the middle of the night to get something for him!?” She sounded shocked and angry.

Jim shook his head quickly. “No! He doesn’t know! Neither of my Dads know I snuck out!” He looked down, tears starting to form in his eyes once more. “I-I just wanted to do something nice for him. I-I…”

She gently pulled him into an embrace as he started to sob. Jim clung to her like a lifeline and buried his face into her shoulder as she softly rubbed his neck to sooth him.

“I-I was so s-scared! I w-w-wanna go home!”

“Shhhh…it’s okay now. I’m here…and I’ll take you home…. I promise.”

He sniffled and turned his face to look up at her. “I-I’m Jim.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jim…..My name is Irizhia.” She seemed a bit reluctant to tell him her name at first.

“Iris….Iriz…”

She let out another chuckle and smiled down at him. “You can all me Rizzie if it’s too hard to pronounce, Jim.”

Jim giggle a bit at the nickname, wiping his tears a bit. “Are you a witch? I’ve never seen fire magic like that before.”

Irizhia nodded. “I’m known by most as the Forest Witch, though fire and lighting are my specialty.”

“You and make lightning!? Can I see!?” He looked at her in awe.

“I’m sorry but no. Lightning magic is very dangerous. I don’t have complete control over where the bolts will go. It’s not safe to perform it in the company of others unless I’m looking to harm them.”

She rubbed his head a bit before she stood up.

“We should get you home now though. I’m sure your parents are worried sick. Am I safe to assume you live in Arcadia, dear?”

Jim paused, realizing he couldn’t tell her about Trolls or Trollmarket. Sure she was a witch but he knew he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone where he lived. He didn’t want anyone threatening his home or the trolls.

He rocked a bit on his heels, looking at the ground. “You…can drop me off at Arcadia Bridge. I know my way home from there.”

She gave him a incredulous look. “I’m not going to leave you all alone after I just rescued you from a goblin horde, Jim.” She leaned down a bit.

“Look, I…know you live with trolls, child. You smell more troll than human, even out here. You don’t need to hide secrets from me.”

“Y-You know about the trolls and Trollmarket?” He sniffed himself. “You can SMELL THEM?”

“I know a lot more than you could possibly imagine, little one. And I’ve got senses that are much more keen than yours.”

Well that was good, he guessed. At least she could take him right home. Yes she was a complete stranger but she also saved his life. She was kind to him and offered to take him home.

Jim looked up at her. She was a witch, but she seemed like a good witch. She did save him after all AND she did it with awesome fire magic.

With that in mind he gave a light nod. “Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! are my Dads. I snuck out cuz I wanted to get some VHS tapes from the landfill. I accidentally knocked over some trash and it squished a goblin.”

Irizhia seemed to stare at him for a bit before she nodded. “I see…. So Blinkous Galadrigal and….. AAARRRGGHH!!! are your adopted parents?”

Jim nodded before looking down, pulling on the strings of his slightly too large hoodie. “My Mom…was killed by a bad Troll, named Bular. The Trollhunter fought him off so I could escape… I ran into Blinky after and he took me to Trollmarket. Now him and AAARRRGGHH!!! take care of me.”

Irizhia was silent once more. Slowly she reached down and rubbed his head. “I am sorry for your loss, Jim. A child should never lose a parent in such a way.”

He looked up at the fire witch, some tears lingering in his eyes. “Have you losses your parents too?”

She simply shook her head. “My parents never wanted me…. The closest thing I had to a father abandoned me when I was probably a little younger than you…. I hated him for a long time for it but now that I’m older I suppose I can see why he did what he did…”

Jim walked closer and took hold of her hand. “Maybe Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! will adopt you! They adopted me after all!” He smiled at the idea of having a big sister.

Irizhia let out a halfhearted laugh and gave a sad smile. “Naw…troll dads would cramp my style. Besides I have my own home and children now. Don’t think all those trolls would be happy with all us being around.”

She patted Jim on the head before picking him up.

“Now then, how about we get you home? We’ve spent enough time bantering and I can only imagine your dads are getting more and more worried. They’re probably running around with the Trollhunter searching for you.”

“Yeah…” Jim nodded as she began walking. Home sounded good right about now.

#art #typings #trollhunters irizhia #trollhunters #trollhunters oc #toa #trollhunters AU #trollson AU #jim lake jr

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whitehotharlots · 3 years

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CRT and the sad state of educational politics

If our culture is studied 100 years from now, the predominant theme of the research will be a sense of perplexed revulsion toward how we did nothing to address the climate crisis in spite of having decades of forewarning. If there is a second theme, it will be a profound confusion regarding our immense and unearned sense of self-certainty. A retrospective of the early twenty first century would be titled something like Who the Fuck Did These People Think They Were?

The latter theme is illustrated in the debacle surrounding a recent slew of municipal and statewide bills that seek to ban the teaching of Critical Race Theory (CRT) in public schools. For the record, I am strongly against these bans. But I’m also self-aware enough to know my opinion matters very little, and therefore realize that an analysis of the discussion surrounding the bills will yield much more worthwhile observations than a simple delimitation of their pros and cons. Regardless of your personal opinion, I hope you’ll humor me.

I am, in some regards, a moral absolutist. But I also realize that abstract morality has very little bearing on material and political realities. In my ideal world, classrooms are free from political meddling. Teachers teach to the best of their ability, presenting students with truths that are confidently unvarnished due to the thorough amount of work that was required to reach them. I don’t cotton any of that socratic bullshit. Students are there to learn, not to engage in weird Gotchas with some perverted elder. The teacher’s job is to teach. The material they teach needs to be subjected to some graspable and standardized mechanism of truth adjudication before it is worthy of being taught. Teaching is not therapy. Teaching is not poetry. Teaching is not love, nor is it religion, nor is it a means of social or political indoctrination. There are plenty of other avenues available to accomplish all of those other things. Teaching is teaching.

That’s the ideal. But ideals are just ideals. They never come true. The art of teaching, regardless of setting--from overpacked classrooms to face-to-face instruction to curricular design to nationwide pedagogical initiatives--boils down to a teacher’s ability to reconcile the need to convey truths with social and political pressures that are heavily invested in the suppression of truth.

I have formally studied and practiced education for nearly two decades. In that time, the prevailing political thrust toward education has been a desire to casualize the practice of teaching, to render educators as cheap and fungible as iphones. The thrust takes different shapes depending on the political affiliation of whomever happens to be in charge of the state and federal governments that fund education, but the ultimate desire is always the same. The goal is always to attempt to make teaching rote and algorithmic, something akin to running a google search for How to do math? or What is morality?. The framing is always just windowdressing, empty culture war bullshit.

Maybe it’s the inescapability of this thrust that’s rendered so many educators so blind to it? We only have nominal political choice, after all. The discourse gets more blinkered and vicious as the stakes decrease. At any rate, this is the undeniable reality, and anyone who doesn’t see that isn’t worth listening to.

Non-administrative per-pupil spending as been on a steady decline since George W. Bush was president. Administrative bloat and meddling are becoming as common in k-12 as they are in higher education. The will of parasitic NGOs are implemented as common sense pedagogy without anyone even bothering to ask for any proof that they work. The so-called Education Reform movement is sputtering out due both to its manifest failures and rare, bipartisan backlash. But it will be replaced with something just as idiotic and pernicious. The thrust of causalization will not abate.

And so what do we decide to do? What’s the next big thing on the education policy horizon? Critical Race Theory.

Okay, this makes sense. In 2021, a local paper can’t run a news story about a lost cat without explicitly mentioning the race of every human involved and possibly also nodding toward the implied cisnormativity of pet ownership. So it makes sense that this broad rhetorical mandate would come to dominate the transitional period between Bush-Obama Education Reform and whatever bleak future awaits us. The controversy is so perfectly inefficacious that its adoption was inevitable. Because, seriously, it doesn’t matter. Regardless of the outcome of this kerfuffle, no problems will be solved. The real shortcomings of public education will not be addressed. Larger social problems that are typically blamed on public education in spite of having little to do with public education will especially not be addressed. Maybe white kids will have to do struggle sessions in lieu of the Pledge of Allegiance. Maybe black kids will get full credit for drawing the Slayer logo in the part of the test where their geometric proof is supposed to go. Or maybe it won’t happen. Maybe instead these practices will be banned, and in turn liberals will begin to embrace homeschooling, the charter movement will be given new life as a refuge against the terrors of white supremacist behaviors such as, uhh, teaching kids to show their work. Whatever.

Within the context of public education, the outcome will not matter. It cannot matter. There will be broader social impacts, sure. It will continue to drive Democrats more rightward, providing their party’s newly woke corporate wing with progressive-sounding rationales for austerity. But so far as teachers and students are concerned, it won’t matter.

Why do I give a shit about this, then? To put it bluntly, I’m struck by the utter fucking inartfulness of CRT’s proponents. At no point has any advocate of CRT presented a case for their approach to education that was at all concerned with persuading people who aren’t already 100% in their camp. There’s been no demonstration of positive impacts, or even an explanation of how the impacts could hypothetically be positive. In fact, so much as asking for such a rationale is considered proof of racism. Advocates posit an image of existing educational policies that is absolutely fantastical, suggesting that kids never learn about slavery or racism or civil rights. But then... then they don’t even stick with the kayfabe. They’ll say “kids never learn about racism.” In response, people--mostly well-meaning--say “wait, umm, I’m pretty sure they do learn about racism.” The response is “we never said they don’t learn about racism.” You’ll see this shift from one paragraph to the next. It’s insane. Absolutely insane.

Or take this talk from a pro-CRT workshop in Oregon. The speaker freely admits that proto-CRT leanings like anti-bias education, multiculturalism, and centering race in historical discussions have been the norm since the late 1980s. The speaker admits that these practices have been commonplace for 30+ years, as anyone my age or younger will attest. Then, seconds later, the speaker discusses the results of this shift: it failed. Unequivocally:

We had this huge, huge, huge focus on culturally relevant teaching and research. [ ... ] So you would think that with 40+ years of research and really focusing and a lot of lip service and a lot of policies and, you know, a lot of rhetoric about cultural relevancy and about equity and about anti-bias that we would see trends that are significantly different, [but] that’s not what we’re finding. What we’re finding that you see [is] that some cases, particularly black and brown [students] the results, the academic achievement has either stayed the same and gotten worse.

Translation: here’s this approach to teaching. It’s new and vital but also we’ve been doing it for 40 years. It doesn’t work. But we need to keep doing it. Anyone who is in any way confused by this is a dangerous racist.

Even in the darkest days of the Bush-era culture war, I never saw such a complete and open disregard for honesty. This isn’t to say that Bush-era conservatives weren’t shit-eating liars. They were. But they had enough savvy to realize that self-righteousness alone is not an effective way of doing politics. You need to at least pretend to be engaging with issues in good faith.

This is what happens when a movement has its head so far up its own ass that it cannot comprehend the notion of good-faith criticism. These people do not believe that there can exist anyone who shares their basic goals but has concerns that their methods might not work. Their self-certainty is so absolute and unshakeable that they can proffer data demonstrating the complete ineffectiveness of their methods as proof of the necessity of their methods.

For decades, the most effective inoculation against pernicious meddling in education has been to lean upon the ideal form of teaching I described earlier in this post. We claimed that teaching is apolitical and that no one is trying to indoctrinate anybody. Regardless of the abstract impossibility of this claim, it has immense and lasting appeal, and it was upheld by a system of pedagogical standards that allowed teachers to evoke a sense of neutrality. The prevailing thrust in liberal education is to explicitly reject any such notions, and no one--not a single goddamn person--has proffered a convincing replacement for it. We still say, laughably, that we’re eschewing indoctrination. But people aren’t that stupid. If you find it beneath yourself to make your lies digestible, people will be able to tell when you’re lying to them.

This, my friends, bodes very poorly for the future of education, regardless of whatever happens in the coming months. A movement that cannot articulate its own worth is not one that is long for this world. Teachers themselves are the only force that can resit the slow press toward the eventual elimination of public education, and they have embraced a worldview and comportment style that renders them absolutely unable to mount any worthwhile resistance.

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brittanys-process-journal · 3 years

Text

Unit 3 | Creative Problem-Solving Interviews

Interview #1: Interview with a Product Manager

1. How do you generate ideas? (How, when, and where are you inspired? What inspires you? What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea and how do you overcome those obstacles?)

Generally, I allow my brain to create scenarios in which the collision of different variables highlights potential ideas/connections, especially when I require a unique solution to a problem. I am often inspired in situations with a high need for solutions, or if people are involved, or if I am in isolation. Location is not as important, but I will say that I am inspired by nature, specifically how everything in it flows together, and seems to live as one thing. I think in many ways that the flow of nature is the pinnacle for a creator, an environment in which all variables, living and dead, are in a constant dance, unconcerned by the conscious. When coming up with a new idea, the vulnerability of owning/acting on/ sharing said idea is an obvious difficulty. Any new thing in its infancy must be carefully groomed, and taking the first step of sharing a new idea, claiming ownership of something previously unknown to you, is vulnerable.

2. What process(es) do you use to solve problems? (Describe the steps of your problem-solving process. Explain your journey from inspiration to implementation.)

Problem->Inspiration->Faux-Scenario Creation->Formation->Storming->Normalization/Realism->Roll out Most of my inspiration is pulled into solving problems. When no problems are present, I do have a tendency to identify things that could be better, and try to solve for those. In complete isolation however, raw inspiration can flood into me, which I assume is inspired by my subconscious, and its connection to the ether of my coded/inherited DNA.

Less obvious, Faux-Scenario creation is how I utilize my imagination to run several mental regressions on likely and unlikely scenarios. Formation is the initial forming of my idea, storming is me tearing it apart looking for holes. Normalizing/Realism is the final framing of the idea in the most effective and plausible manner, lastly leading to rollout.

Interview #2: Interview with a Data Analyst

1. How do you generate ideas? (How, when, and where are you inspired? What inspires you? What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea and how do you overcome those obstacles?)

I generate ideas by starting with a problem and trying to make the best (efficient and effective) solution possible. I am inspired to solve a problem when I notice the problem negatively affecting myself or others. I am inspired wherever I may be when the problem appears. Although, it may take me some time to come up with a solution, I will be thinking about it until it is solved. I would also add that I have noticed I am most effective at problem solving when I am feeling motivated (or fulfilled), be it in personal life or at work, the two even affect the other. I would say some of the obstacles I face when coming up with a new idea are spreading the influence of the idea to my peers in order for it to gain momentum and eventually be implemented. That is overcome by spreading knowledge and pitching the idea in mass appeal. Another obstacle is being vulnerable to the point where the consequences might be shame from a loved one, teammate, or manager if the idea or effort fails. This is overcome by viewing the potential for benefit from success mixed with a bit of courage.

2. What process(es) do you use to solve problems? (Describe the steps of your problem-solving process. Explain your journey from inspiration to implementation.)

For the process of problem solving, I am mostly inspired by something being inefficient or causing some type of pain, and from there I want to make it better or easier. I start with asking as many questions as I can. From there, I take what I know has worked in the past, or what I have come across in my experience that might work best. If the problem is not solved from that, I will breakdown the problem into smaller sections that may be able to be solved in many ways and try to brainstorm multiple solutions to each problem. If I still cannot solve the problem that way, I will research each broken down problem to learn more about each aspect and see if others have made similar solutions. Finally if all else fails, I will ask experts for advice and help if they are able to offer it. As for implementation, the next step usually involves getting other stakeholder buy-in by influencing the team/organization. When that is done and the solution has enough drive behind it, or approval, planning can start to find the proper team and resources to execute in a timely manner.

Interview #3: Interview with a Communications Manager / Artist

1. How do you generate ideas? (How, when, and where are you inspired? What inspires you? What obstacles do you face in coming up with a new idea and how do you overcome those obstacles?)

I'm inspired by others' creations, as well as my own. After taking several art journal/collage classes, I now follow many artists with styles I admire and aspire to on Instagram. Nature inspires me when I'm out on walks/hikes. I take lots of photos and later use some of these for a drawing or just inspiration of colors, shapes.

I took a class called "Daily Creative Practice" which addresses this step of being inspired and taking the next step to "doing." From this I created and posted a list of creative activities that can be done in 15 minutes or less.

New supplies and/or tools are inspiring - fun to try something out for the first time or a new color combination.

2. What process(es) do you use to solve problems? (Describe the steps of your problem-solving process. Explain your journey from inspiration to implementation.)

First step is either inspiration or more of a task (like creating a birthday card). For cards, I feel I need a quote to get started. The quote leads to colors and images.

One option is to "work under the influence." Select one (or more) or artists I follow, open their IG site and imitate their style (lettering, colors, doodling). Always acknowledge the artist I'm imitating.

Gather - I'll gather the "ingredients" - quote, paint colors, pens, collage material (ie. tissue paper, magazine clipping) - and let it sit on my table for a few hours or days. I'll walk by and see if it is pleasing. I'll take things away and bring new items to try out.

Let it sit. Be by myself (rarely do I ask others opinion). Listen to my gut - be true to self.

Dive in. Get paint on my hands. "What if?" Try new colors and techniques not knowing where it will take me.

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owl-quill · 4 years

Text

Unexpected

Once Upon A Time fic, pre-canon.

They were not outrunning this storm. It whipped waves high enough they seemed to want to toss the Jolly Roger into the sky. Rain and spray were so thick there seemed barely air to breathe left. Hook and Teynte wrestled what control they could at the helm, the rest of the crew either bailed or guided the shortened sails.

A flash of lightning with near-simultaneous thunder rent the air. Smee saw the shadow most clearly, a dark figure with big, bright eyes perching on a yardarm. "It's Davy Jones!"

"Ignore him!" Captain Hook put as much volume and command in his voice as he could manage. "Let him watch all he likes!"

The figure climbed along the rigging, movements unnaturally fluid. At last he sat on a yardarm close to the command deck. His whole body seemed to turn into oil, flowing down, the bird's foot turning into a hand, as he let himself down to just in front of the helm.

"Interesting." A gesture had a gust of wind picking up Teynte and throwing him on the main deck. The muscles in Hook's shoulders were strained to ripping trying to fight against the current. The Demon snapped his fingers and everything... stopped. "Let's you and me talk."

Captain Hook let go of the wheel. It did not move. There was no rain falling any more, though the clouds above were just as thick. The waves around them were still like a painting, The Jolly Roger perched on top of a wave, close to falling.. Further away, the storm still raged, but the sounds, even the thunder, was muted. "What do you want?"

He watched the demon as it stalked around him, looking for anything that might be a helpful tell. But reading a creature that was vaguely human-shaped, but kept changing with each step, long-fingered bird's feet to webbed, growing a thin tail, growing horns, was beyond him. The eyes were blue marbles, ultramarine and turquoise stirations flowing with no relation to the movement of the smooth face. Its teeth were as stormcloud-dark as its surface, and all pointed like eyeteeth. Its voice was soft and deep. "I am curious. Who are you?"

"I am Captain Hook."

The demon flowed forward, his arms elongating so it could support itself on them. It leaned in close to Hook, and sniffed him. "A nickname."

His usual reaction to being crowded cut short because he did not want to touch the living blackness if he could it avoid it, Captain Hook reached for a verbal defense instead, and put on a front of false confidence. "I prefer the term nom de guerre. Who are you, and why are you on my ship?"

There was deep, warm laughter. "Your man had it right, I am Davy Jones. I was just considering a little bet with a few friends of mine, if any of you might survive today. But then I caught wind of you."

"And why would the devil care about me?"

"You really don't know?" Davy Jones gave humanoid form altogether, the main part of his body moving in a half-circle around Hook, leaving a smooth tentacle behind., giving Hook the unusual feeling of being surrounded by one person.

"I could make a few guesses referring to past misdeeds, but nothing I am certain of, no. I may have sent quite a few souls your way?"

"No." Davy Jones backed off a little, and grew arms and legs again. He kept his full, uncanny attention on Hook. "You people are so strange... Do you think it's possible for a human to have the wild, stormy sea in their blood, and yet stay far from it?"

Hook forced a grin and a would-be casual shrug. "Well, I am here, so why would you ask me?"

"It is curious. Are you a scion of a family of seafarers?"

"No. Why do you care?"

Davy Jones tapped Hook's chest gently with a claw. "Because I thought this bloodline of mine died out two hundred years ago, yet here you are."

"Bloodline?" The meaning was clear enough, but the implication left him too shocked to think.

"Have you people really forgotten why a woman on a ship is bad luck? One might catch my interest, and my get."

Keep your head. It's information, not a change in nature, a calm sliver of hsi mind tried to remind Hook. He could barely breathe. "You're..."

"One of your ancestors, many generations ago." Davy Jones watched his descendant, inscrutable.

"And that means?" He forced himself to take deep, slow breaths. There were no good times to pass out, but this was worse than most.

"I am a little more interested in your deeds and fate than that of most other humans."

Interest. Interest could be good or bad, and while Hook had no doubt Davy Jones could as easily break the Jolly Roger as holding a patch of a storm frozen in time, well, opportunities were for seizing. "Could that mean you might be willing to help us survive this storm?"

Davy Jones laughed. "No."

"Might be not much time left for interesting deeds left."

"Don't worry. You can tell me what you have done so far, whether you die today or not."

There was a flood of implications behind that Hook both wanted to winnow for anything helpful, and wanted to block out completely so save his sanity. It took all the control he had left to not flinch when the demon grasped his chin gently to tilt up his face, meet those inhuman eyes and keep breathing.

"Your blood is almost as thin as any human's, but there's a storm in your soul. It might cause interesting ripples. I will give you a chance. Seven seconds." Davy Jones flowed towards the rail and in an arc over it, taking on a shape of fins and spines, disappearing in the deep. The Jolly Roger remained frozen and silent.

Finally having his attention freed up for his crew, Hook saw most of them on deck, Teynte included and on his feet. None were secured, working, or ready for work.

"Teynte! Murphy! To me! Everybody else! On your stations! The storm will be back!"

Most of them still wide-eyed and paniced, they still reacted to his command quickly.

The storm crushed their bubble of calm.

Howling wind whipped the rain.

The waves unfroze.

Everything

Fell

-----

Just a little something that came to my mind between the "I did not see that coming" prompt and @greenfablesstorytims bringing up the idea of Davy Jones as Kilian Jones’s grandfather. Or something like that.

This is closer to the folklore version of Davy Jones than the PotC version, being a general devil-type thing of the sea, unrelated to the Flying Dutchman. The “that’s why there shouldn’t be women on ships” thing is my idea. Uh. Not that I’m trying to claim ownership, just saying that it’s not something I pulled from somewhere else.

#whumptober2020 #no.17 #i did not see that coming #Once Upon A Time #fic #pre-canon #folklore #Captain Hook #my posts

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sub4tperelationship · 4 years

Text

DRAFT CONTRACT OF CONSENSUAL OWNERSHIP AND SERVICE

A. Preamble:

This document serves as the basis of the terms and conditions of the servitude of_____________________________, referred to as servant, to ______________________, referred to as Home Owner, or Head of Household, or simply Owner. This document represents an offer of ownership from Owner and acceptance by the servant represents the final decision ever made by the servant not subject to approval by Owner. The terms and conditions are effective from the date that the document is duly signed by both parties.

This contract offer from Owner is contingent until ____ am/pm on ________ or until Owner receives from servant a duly signed contract after which the terms and conditions outlined below become permanently binding except where outlined below.

Nothing within this contract is intended to be in violation of any laws or regulations and if at any time after the agreement is executed any of the terms of the contract are deemed to be in violation of any laws or regulations the contract automatically becomes void. Both the Owner and servant understand that most of the terms are not enforceable by law and this contract represents an agreement of expectations and actions to be voluntarily taken by both parties.

By signing this contract the Home Owner is claiming ownership of the servant and will provide shelter, food, and any needed necessities, as well as guidance and protection from harm as outlined below to the servant. The Owner is certifying his understanding that servant retains the right not to accept the Owners contract offer until such time that the servant signs the contract and the contract this becomes fully ratified.

The Owner is further certifying that he is ____ years of age, is/is not (circle one) drug and disease free and is/is not (circle one) free of any past/ongoing criminal convictions and/or investigations.

In exchange and upon signature of the contract, the servant will dedicate its mind and body into the permanent service, domestically and sexually, to the Home Owner.

By signing this contract the servant is certifying that it is drug and disease free, fully tested since its last sexual encounter with appropriate incubation periods, will be within 155-175 lbs at time of inspection and acceptance by owner, is 5'10, has short brown hair on head, 6.5c, and will/will not be shaved at time of inspection and delivery to owner.

The Sixteenth Amendment prohibits slavery and involuntary servitude. Thus the servant acknowledges that, being of sound mind and body, of his own free will, offers himself into consensual service to the Owner and enters into a committed SM relationship in a submissive role to the Owner. The servant binds himself totally and completely, without limit, to the servitude of the Owner. The servant agrees not to bring any legal action of any sort against the Owner and expressly states that he is not being kidnapped or taken against his will, but has in fact expressly sought out this activity.

B. EXPECTATIONS OF THE SERVANT

Section 1: Relinquishment of Rights

•

The servant agrees, to the best of his ability, to obey and devote himself entirely to the pleasures and desires of the Owner. The servant also renounces all rights to his own pleasure, comfort, or gratification except insofar as permitted by the Owner.

•

The servant surrenders any and all rights and privileges automatically upon the execution of this agreement. All rights and privileges are under the absolute and total control of the Owner. The servant accepts all decisions made by the Owner, as those decisions are final and absolute. Absolute and total control requires that no limits, safe words or pre-existing parameters be accepted or respected.

Section 2: Behavior

•

The servant accepts full responsibility for informing the Owner of any real or perceived dangers or safety concerns, but also states that the Owner's decision will be final regarding these issues.

•

The servant agrees to answer any and all questions asked by the Owner freely, promptly, and to the best of his knowledge. The servant further agrees to volunteer any information that the Owner should know regarding the servant's physical or emotional state.

•

The servant should have no expectation of privacy whatsoever. At the point of legal marriage, all passwords to online accounts (email, banking, etc) will be given to the Owner for his use as he sees fit. All mail with the servant’s name will be opened by the Owner first.

•

The servant agrees to address the Owner as "Sir" unless otherwise directed. The servant agrees to speak respectfully to the Owner at all times, including those times not spent in a "scene".

•

The servant will always seek ways to please the Owner better, and will gracefully accept criticism as a means for growth and not a threat of abandonment.

•

The servant agrees to accept any punishment the Owner decides to inflict to any degree, whether earned or not.

•

The servant may not seek any other Owner or lover or relate to others in any sexual or submissive way without the Owner's permission. To do so will be considered a breach of contract, and will result in extreme punishment.

•

The servant may not speak to anyone unless spoken to or told to by the Owner or unless the Owner has given previous authorization.

•

The servant may not masturbate, or otherwise have sex in any way, shape, or form with himself unless so directed or permitted by the Owner.

•

The servant is expected to satisfy the Owner’s sexual needs at all times required by the Owner, regardless of whether the servant is in the mood or not (this includes oral sex, anal sex, and SM activities).

•

The servant is expected to perform all household chores, including cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, and other chores assigned by the Owner.

•

The servant will strive diligently to re-mold his body, habits, and attitudes in accordance with the Owner's desires.

Section 4: Breach of Contract

•

The servant agrees and understands that any infraction of this agreement, or any act the servant commits which displeases the Owner, will result in the servant's punishment or void if the breach occurs prior to legal marriage. The servant will gracefully accept this punishment and try to learn from it. The servant agrees to assemble the necessary punishment materials as ordered by the Owner, and assume any position needed to accept this punishment. The servant also understands that failure to comply with the Owner's orders will result in an even more severe punishment.

C. Expectations of the Owner:

Section 1: Responsibility

•

The Owner accepts full responsibility for the servant at all stages of the acquisition to include initial discussions, negotiation of terms, inspection, collection, marriage, and permanent ownership. This includes, but is not limited to: the servant's survival, health, physical well being, and mental well being and complete avoidance of anything that impacts the servants family.

•

The Owner shall endeavor not to inflict any physical harm upon the servant that wouldrequire the attention of someone outside of the relationship.

Section 3: Assignment Rights

•

The Owner has the right to assign temporary control over the servant to third parties on a temporary basis given that all terms identified in this contract are sustained. If any terms are broken or otherwise violated by the third party, the Owner assumes full responsibility.

*Under extreme circumstances where the Owner is no longer able to care for the servant, the Owner shall arrange for and transfer servant to another owner capable of caring for the servant and fulfilling all the lifetime responsibilities outlined in this contract upon signature of that Owner to the same terms and conditions indicated throughout this contract. The Owner shall legally divorce servant prior to transfer so that a new marriage between servant and its future owner shall be arranged.

D. ADHERENCE OF THE CONTRACT

Neither party may terminate this contact except in circumstances where one party is not able to fulfill the duties of this contract. If this situation occurs, the Owner shall immediately first seek to transfer temporary ownership to another Owner in accordance with the "Assignment Rights" section of this contact. If another Owner is not found before the Owner is no longer able to fulfill his duties the servant shall be released from the terms of this contract and a sum value equivalent to the cash and property the slave turned over at the time it agreed to the contract shall be returned to the servant so that it can be properly reintegrated into society.

E: ACQUISITION AND DELIVERY

a. The acquisition of the servant by the Owner shall occur in several phases, some of which are to occur prior to the signature of this contract.

I. The Owner and servant shall discuss interests and expectations and determine compatibility. By signing this contract both Owner and servant certify that this occurred between _________ and ________.

II. The Owner shall submit written correspondence to the servant indicating that the Owner is interested and staking initial claim on the servant. After which the servant is to immediately cease communication with other potential owners and surrender telephone and email addresses for Owner to maintain contact with the servant. The servant also commits to sustaining daily contact with the Owner. By signing this contract both Owner and servant certify that this written correspondence occurred on _______. The servant further certifies that it has followed the follow-on instructions for this phase.

III. After considerable discussion with the servant, the Owner stakes final claim on the servant through providing to the servant a signed copy of this contract. The servant returns the signed contract with the following items to secure control of the body and mind by the Owner: _______________________. At this point the servant is now owned property of Owner. However, by signing this contract the Owner acknowledges that use of the servant is limited to the performance of domestic duties and visual and verbal inspection of the body and mind until legal marriage and the act of consummation occur.

IV. The servant will present itself for final inspection by the Owner for a period of ____ days within ____ days of signature of this contract. During the inspection period, the servant shall give the owner full access to evaluate the body and mind in order to evaluate its fitness and suitability for permanent service to the Owner. However, Owner may not penetrate, modify, or damage the body or mind until marriage occurs. If Owner will provide written acceptance or rejection of the servant before or by the number of days indicated for the inspection period above.

V. The servant will present itself for collection by the Owner within ____ days of signature of receipt of written acceptance by the Owner.

VI. The Owner shall arrange for and execute a legal marriage with the servant within ____ days of collection.

VII. The Owner shall consummate the marriage within _____ days of the legal marriage or this contract becomes null and void. The servant agrees to provide full sexual and domestic use to the Owner at the moment that consummation occurs.

VIII. The servant will relinquish and transfer all material possessions, finances to the control and possession of the Owner within ____ days of consummation of the marriage.

Signature of Servant:

I have read and fully understand this contract in its entirety. I agree to give everything I own to the Owner and further accept his claim of ownership over my physical body. I understand that I will be commanded and trained and punished, and I promise to be true, conduct no illegal activity and to fulfill the pleasures and desires of the Owner to the best of my abilities. I understand that I cannot withdraw from this contract except as stated in this contract.

I agree to hold the Owner harmless from any civil or criminal liability which may inure to me as a consequence of the actions agreed to in this contract.

Signature: ___________________________________________Date: _______________

Signature of Owner:

I have read and fully understand this contract in its entirety. I agree to accept this servant’s body and possessions, and to care for them to the best of my ability. I agree to breed this propert within 12 hours of assuming ownership. I shall provide for his security and well being and command him, train him, and punishhim as is necessary. I understand the responsibility implicit in this arrangement.

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chaniters · 5 years

Text

Clocked

New one is up! Awan takes matters into his own hands.

___________________________________________

It hurts. Of course, it hurts. But you have to get up.

You can’t give up, you’re not going to end like this even if you have to crawl your way out.

You steady yourself against a wall and begin trying to stand. Your leg fails to respond at the last second and you fall again.

But you won’t stop.

You aren’t going to be Nathaniel’s slave, doll, or whatever else his fucking mind believes you are supposed to be.

You are your own person. You always dreamed about taking your own decisions and you just happened to make the mistake of thinking Nath was on your side, giving you the space to grow. You wanted to believe him when he said he had great plans for the both of you.

But in his plans, you're not a partner or a friend. You are nothing more than his little pet.

You bottle up the anger, sadness, betrayal, and disappointment and put a cork on it. And then you store it in the darkest corner of your mind with a large "Unresolved" label on it. You'll deal with this later, in your own time.

Crying or depending on others never got you anywhere in the past.

You have more important things to do right now.

Things have changed. You've tasted freedom and understood a fraction of what it's about. You aren't going to go back with him, the Farm, or anyone else knocking at your door.

Finally, you are standing again.

It’s true, you might have picked up your name Awan from that old fantasy novel one of the scientists brought in without authorization.

And perhaps you took your last name Cormac from the Cormac & Brothers Car Wash from which you stole those clothes while you were on the run…

But even if they are stolen you've made those names work as your own.

You’re no longer 412, the doll, the re-gene, the freak or the Androsynthetic life-form.

Humans. They are good at coming up with names. Placing themselves on top so they can stomp you.

You flex your arms. They are numb… He must have used a lower setting energy shock…just enough to capture you.

Good news, it will wear off soon and then…

A cold smile reaches your lips. His mistake. He should have killed you while he had the chance.

You take one step towards the door… and another… and another…

You’re never going to place your trust in humans again.

And you swear it by the…

*KLAAACK!*

The door breaks apart and is pulled off its frame…

A figure on the other side…

Your mind races.

Lord Ember? You sense another mind as well...

The larger figure takes a step inside.

No…! You won’t let him…

You turn your hand into a fist…

And you STRIKE!!!

“Ow,” The figure complains as it takes your weak punch on its cheek.

Your legs fail under your own impulse and you fall down, limp once more.

Pathetic.

Shit. You’re done for… they are going to…

"Wow! You totally got clocked Marshall!" a cheerful voice says, snorting.

You turn and look up. Marshall Charge...? And someone else you haven't met before.

“Was that really necessary kid?” Charge asks holding his cheek. “Also, what even was that? It felt like a ping-pong ball hit me” he says looking at the other figure.

Both of them step inside your cell.

“W.. what are you…”

“What are we doing here? Following you obviously”

"Hey, pleased to meet you! I'm Anathema!" the younger guy takes your hand, which right now feels like spaghetti, and shakes it. "I'll help you up... " he adds, giving you a rather strong pull.

You stumble back on your feet, but he holds you steady. You're about to complain, but you cling to him. If you let go you'll end up on the hard floor again.

"Darn... they did a number on you," he says helping you stand

It takes a moment before you feel confident enough to stay on your feet.

Charge approaches you, and snatches your lollipop bag without warning.

"Hey! That's mine!" you complain.

"I can't believe you actually took candy from a baby Charge" Anathema chuckles "Tough he's not as young as you keep telling me!"

"He's a kid," he says without even looking at you. "And he's clearly above his head in this. I’m going to take this little one back” He says taking a small electronic shaped like a plastic lighting bolt from it, then handing the bag back to you.

“You tracked me?!” you say, indignant.

“Well yes! You were so smug announcing you knew Ember’s hideout, what did you expect me to do?!”

“I… wanted to do it alone!”

“Ohh… and how’s that working out for you? Is this all part of your plan?”

“I was about to escape!” you complain

“Oh… Oooh, I see. Maybe I should put the door back where it was, and you can have another go at it?” he says crossing his arms

“……. no……….” you simply say in the end

"Point for the Marshal I'd say" Anathema laughs.

“What’s the deal between you and The Void?” Charge asks.

“None of your business,”

“Look I’ve seen abusive relationships, but you and him… kid that’s just special next level fucked up… So speak to me, what happened?” he insists.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say looking away.

“Come on! I heard what he said... You are trying to walk away from him, and he won’t let you?”

“I SAID IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS! FUCK YOU!” you bark at him angrily, balling your hands into fists again..

He’s about to say his comeback when…

"Hey Hey" Anathema stands in between "Give him some space... jeez. You told me yourself his boyfriend just shot him and threw him in here! How do you expect him to process that?"

“Oh,” he says, his expression changing

Oh. Oh … he can see the dry tear traces on your eyes and face. Fuck. His whole expression changes. You can see… concern.. pitty? Shit, why can’t you read his stupid mind!

“Sorry kid… I… mierda, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off like that. This is just fucked up, I didn't expect you'd be involved with the Void... This just adds another layer of reasons to kick his ass... Just relax... We are here to stop Ember, and we can help you... We'll take care of The Void too” he says putting an arm on your shoulder.

Oh, now you just want to punch him again… for real.

“Leave me alone!” you say swatting his hand away. “ I don't need help from you! ... I will… I… will…”

“Yeah... what's your plan now?” Anathema asks crossing his arms.

You glare at them both

“None of my fucking business?” Ortega asks with a smirk. Ugh.

“I don’t…know … ok? I don’t fucking know what comes next!”

“Wait… Is the void the person you thought Ember had killed?” Ricardo asks widening his gaze

Your logical mind picks up the pieces… He must have overheard a part of your conversation with Nath… that static buzz you picked up wasn’t a migraine, it was him This is a nightmare… and he thinks Nath… The Void is your boyfriend… what a clusterfuck…

“So you came here to kill Ember to get revenge on your dead boyfriend… and now you find he’s alive and working for him the whole time?!” he asks piecing together the story.

“I…” On second thought, your practical mind brings to your attention that he’s assembled a pretty good and convincing backstory all by himself, and it saves you from coming up with your own.

“Yes! Yes, that’s it. You’ve figured it out now genius. Are you satisfied?!” you say angrily. “I have no CLUE what the hell comes next because I didn’t plan for ANY of this!” pretending to be furious isn't hard, you just have to pull the cork on that bottle of emotions a little.

"Crap... I'm sorry" he apologizes again. You are hating it every time he does it. "THat's just... among the most awful things I've heard," Anathema says giving you a sympathetic look "You should get out. We'll deal with Ember now"

"I'm... I'm Staying. The Void is MY problem to deal with. And also, you will need my help"

"What? No way. You can't even move! You are leaving right now, end of discussion" Charge objects

" The shock's wearing off already. And also, I made a grenade, to deal with Ember. You won't defeat him without it"

"I'm Invulnerable" Anathema explains "I'm not afraid of his fire tricks"

"Well maybe if you had done your research you'd know that Medea joined them".

"WHAT?" Charge seems surprised. "Medea turned?"

"Yes. She's been working for Ember for a while now. And Na... The Void is loose too"

“That's not important. You're NOT coming with us" The Marshall scowls

“Well you just try and stop me!" you say defiantly. Your muscles are working again. You’ll show him if you have to...

You glare at each other for a few seconds until...

"Hey, you! Stop right there!!" The guards spotted you... they approach with weapons drawn.

------------------ A brief, but violent battle later------------------------

"How in the HELL did you do that?" Anathema asks as you knock down the last enemy.

"Do what?" you ask.

"You were dodging fucking bullets!"

"Oh... that. Well, it's my boost. Martial arts. THat's what they call me... The Sidestep!" you give Charge a smug smile. Now that you have a hero name too, he can't keep treating you like a kid. While you are still sore from the shock it's really easy to dodge bullets if you can aim their guns away from you by a few degrees with your telepathy each time. "Follow me," you say, leading the way to the lab once more.

"Really? You're going to use THE before your name? Because that gets tedious fast, let me tell you.

"You really think so?" you ask. Perhaps he's right... if Nathaniel wants to be THE Void, maybe you shouldn't use THE Sidestep on your name...

Charge groans, and follows the two of you.

______________________________________

My Fanfiction: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero spoilers #Awan Cormac #Fanfiction

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weaver-of-fire-blog1 · 6 years

Text

The 12 Best Magnetic Letters And Numbers For Toddlers Accounts To Follow On Twitter

my kindergarten fantastic grandson was fairly switched off by needing to discover his alphabet. we've been dealing with him for a year as well but cars and trucks as well as outdoor always took him away. then i bore in mind that back in the old days elevating my brood of 5 they constantly enjoyed playing with the magnetic letter i had on the fridge for possibly 15 years. i never needed to really rest down and also teach the abc's. seemed just speaking with them while they played with those fridge letters worked. When my granddaughter called me in tears that her son is 'falling short' kindergarten i kept in mind the refrigerator letters. i select these refrigerator alphabet magnets and had them delivered to his home. cost didn't hurt my social protection budget plan either. i held off writing this evaluation up until i knew if they 'did their job'. i am enjoyed write that he enjoys them. when my granddaughter begins cooking she calls him in for a quick bite to tide him over till dinners ready as well as he remains to 'play' with his letters that came resolved to him in the mail. in simply a couple of days he has actually learned the alphabet. i assume due to the fact that not just is this a vivid high quality plaything they came to him and also he took ownership. i can 100 advise this for any type of youngster starting the finding out process. this company has a fantastic item. you might buy cheap ones at the dollar shop or your price cut shop but they are a better size and they came with the mail so when he opened the plan he took ownership. for us this collection of abc's responded to a prayer.

awesome wonderful size for all hands and also simply the ideal magnetism. they are sturdy yet wouldn't recommend for kids who are still greatly teething. i make sure that they might withstand a couple of chew sessions as well as drool but l wouldn't let teething little's "play" with these. i know the age recommendation is 3 yet if you supervise your little's to introduce their letters and shades after that immediately do away with you should have the ability to use this set for several years. luv all the various shades for punctuation and recognition. plus when you use a u n m as well as w they all are formed differently so terrific for convenience of letter acknowledgment for younger students. after a few mins of utilizing these with my 4yo he was spelling as well as articulating 4 and also 5 letter words on his own. we are just servicing 3 letter word family members view words with brief vowel noises. i was incredibly stunned. he was also utilizing his digraphs and dual vowels to make jobs. he was doing alright with dry erase board or just created words but hearing seeing claiming and doing it was the vital he intended to maintain selecting his view words and desired to mean other extra tough words on his own after institution practice was finished. will definitely advise and also will most definitely acquire again

magtimes magnetic letters as well as numbers for kids informing kid in enjoyable introducing baby's brain and also ingenious 80 pcs in a boxi such as this collection of letters as well as numbers since it consists of both top and reduced situation letters which will certainly aid child to recognize and find out both top and also reduced letters of the alphabet. the numbers the set includes two 2 each from 0 9 will certainly show him her ways to count from 0 to 998. the set also consists of signs the total number of pieces in this set is 80. the colors are dynamic as well as the set is made from long lasting plastic. there are magnets in the rear of each item which allows them to adhere to metal surface i am trying to find a magnetic board to make use of the collection of letters as well as numbers on to assist instruct child the alphabet spelling and also counting.the size of the pieces in this collection is fantastic from small hands makes it simple for them to grab as well as hold. i would not recommend this collection for kid under 3 years old without guidance. i would suggest this set of magnetic letters and numbers to anybody seeking a simple enjoyable way to teach kids the alphabet as well as checking.

i absolutely enjoy this item my double kids are 3 1 2 years old now so i'm frequently seeking toys that have educational value for them. they are at the age where they are excited about discovering so when they saw the letters numbers they instantly desired them out to have fun with i like that with these letters numbers there are even more compared to one of each magnet. this makes it so much less complicated to assist them with their letters acknowledging their names as well as with their checking. we invested an hour playing with them on the fridge the various other day. i put several various letters on the refrigerator then had the children practice determining different letters. then website i had them do the very same with the numbers. it was wonderful practice for them as well as they had a blast doing it. plus with them getting on the refrigerator they are frequently visible to the kids with assists significantly with their aesthetic memory.i woukd most definitely suggest this product if you have more youthful children in your home. it's an awesome discovering device

this got here very rapidly which is wonderful since my son was really excited about playing with them. you have the full alphabet both top as well as reduced situation along with some math symbols. my child is One Decade old and also homeschooled as well as these are an adorable little means to do something new. every time he mosts likely to the fridge i transform the math trouble and also he attempts to solve it before he opens the refrigerator. it's actually adorable to leave an 'i like you' on the door for my spouse to see in the morning when he gets ready for work. the magnets appear to be relatively strong none have actually been unintentionally ripped off like several of the cheap buck shop ones which is truly good since i obtained tired of sweeping them up lol and also i truly like that it has both the upper and reduced instance letters as well as the complete set of numbers as well as mathematics symbols. it will certainly likewise be helpful once my little girl gets a little older and start appearing out words

magnetic letters and also numbers for informing youngsters in fun educational alphabet refrigerator magnets 82 piecesi bought this set of magnetic letters as well as numbers for my grandson that is transforming 5. i was thrilled with the construction of the items when i opened them. in the olden days magnetic letters were plastic and also had small magnets inserted in the back. these magnets often tended to come out and also were a choking hazard. i was delighted to see that this collection is made of difficult eva letters and also the magnet is the entire back of the item. they are the perfect dimension for youngsters to adjust when discovering how to lead to new words. the magnets are solid sticking firmly to our fridge. while they do not consist of tiny magnets they are still not advised for small children who have the tendency to put whatever in their mouths.my grandson liked his letters and i sent them home with him to make use of as he learns and expands.

there appears to be a lot of confusion over whether these are plastic or foam. they're an extremely soft foam with a magnetic backing it's fully firmly affixed as well as covers the entire back side of each magnet. i got these for my child who gets on the autistic spectrum. he likes letters yet we needed to do away with our old sets because he chewed on them. currently that his chewing has actually diminished i prefer the foam for him since on the rare occasion they're flung no damage is done.that stated these are soft foam and in between 1 to 1 1 2 high. for older children they're best but they should not be gotten if there are more youthful kids in the residence or older youngsters that still chew on points. even if they don't choke you cannot clean up foam like you can plastic the bacteria remains in the pores.also you'll require more than one set if they prefer to lead to out greater than one or two words each time.

love these . my little girl is three and these are terrific to exercise determining letters numbers and having her method positioning letters together to produce her name. i strategy to make use of these to additionally have her practicing matching reduced case and also upper instance letters colors and so on she's simply starting to learn her numbers 1 20. these magnets are a fantastic dimension for little fingers as well as have strong magnets.we really did not have any type of issues making use of these on her magnetic blackboard as well as a cookie sheets. these likewise adhere to the refrigerator. i'm a teacher and keep collections of these at the office. there are lots of activities that you can utilize. just search magnet letter numbers activities for kids and you will get numerous activities to utilize. children who make use of practical materials are normally far more successful in learning. this is fantastic to have for young children via main qualities.

i got these letters for my two years of age child. he is autistic and also does not have any kind of principle of just what the forms are. He loves the intense colors as well as sticking them to the refrigerator to make shapes. the size is simply perfect for his kid hands. i like the truth that they huge enough that i do not need to bother with him swallowing the items because he actually wants to eat them or run about with them in his mouth. he actually enjoys lining them up or arranging them by color. i could inform you that these magnets are extremely really long lasting. my kid has actually eaten thrown as well as wrecked these letters over as well as over. he hasn't already been able to damage them or remove the magnets. when they obtain filthy i simply toss them in a mesh bag as well as pop them in the top rack in the dishwasher and also they cleanse up wonderful. i highly recommend these as well as would most definitely purchase once more.

constantly looking for child grant all the nieces and nephews. these looked good because they resembled a stiff foam vs the hard plastic ones i normally see. they are great top quality not to hard not also soft. the magnets are ideal those with dexterity issues to manage and move around since they are not incredibly strong. package shows 3 and i would concur that these are except little ones still packing every little thing in their mouth. hard to see but among the photos i have them stuck to a metal panel holding up package. it would certainly take several to attempt and also hold up an item of paper however that is not their purpose. an additional photo has actually a credit sized card to offer a size recommendation. great item as well as vendor. nbsp magnetic letters as well as numbers for educating kids in enjoyable instructional alphabet refrigerator magnets 82 items

i bought these for my nephew that likes to associate my sister rather than playing with his toys. these are excellent method to educate him alphabets and nubmers. everyday my sibling simply places a word on the fridge as well as while food preparation in cooking area she teaches him all these.magnet strength is great and also they stay with fridge also prior to getting rid of the plastic. the size of letters are not large so maintain that in mind. these are valuable for kids for very long time starting from where they begin finding out the numbers and also alphabet to the time they do enhancement subtration and also words formation.the price variety is sensible as well as these made terrific gifts for me. i have actually affixed pictures as well. to see the size and

they are everything that you require if you have toddlers in your home. they measure into 1.25 inches hence may not be great for infants or early young children. i liked the method they have the small case letters e.g the same quot i quot imitated precisely ... and for this reason the whole set is a terrific aesthetic reward to not simply recognition yet likewise word building.my youngster is 3 years 3 month old little in advance on these and also might take part in sight words as well as word building. he prepared them in order numerous variety of times. planning to do matching and also several other positive tasks with him. currently on my way for a diy magnetic board do not want the refrigerator to be his only location to learn.

i obtained these for my granddaughter who simply began preschool this year. she really loves them. they are so vibrant and also a wonderful dimension for little hands to order into. she spells words on the front of the refrigerator and utilizes them on her magnetic easel board too. she is discovering much quicker by having her very own letters and numbers in your home. what i like regarding them is that there are top situation letters along with lower case letters. i've never seen a set like that prior to. it's actually special. the high quality is remarkable also. i extremely suggest these for people who have a kid in their life that is just beginning in institution.

the items are jam-packed separately in three tiny plastic bags one for upper situation letters one for lower case letters and one for numbers and also icons. the product box is tiny and nicely loaded. no stench from the foam letters and also the magnetic back is made of high quality. i like also that they are neatly cut the foam and also magnets not like some foam products that are not well cut. magnets remain on refrigerator and magnetic board. shades are dynamic as well as layout is very cute. the photo excels yet it is method cuter personally. quickly shipping also. definitely pleased with the purchase and vendor. most definitely recommend it.

my children love these they are bright and colorful as well as very strong magnets. there are 82 magnetic letters as well as numbers as well as they are fantastic for instructing your kids to spell or include and they make it enjoyable for the children to find out. they have little hearts on each of the them as well as they are an excellent size they are not big or as well tiny they are a fantastic size for youngsters. they keep my youngsters captivated while i am food preparation and they could be near me and i do not have to stress over exactly what they are doing and also we could still hang out with each other while doing various things i definitely suggest it its a wonderful price for the number of you enter this bundle.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/search?q=alphabet magnets

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team-mtal · 6 years

Text

For Cassandra55/AskTeamSHRD

RWBY & All associated trademarks are property of Rooster Teeth (RIP Monty Oum)

I claim no ownership of anything except my own original characters.

I am making no money from this.

This story was written as part of the RWBY OC Secret Santa project started by AmericanAnime26 on Tumblr, because the idea of using someone else’s OCs sounded like a fun challenge and honestly because OCs need some more love in the Fandom.

Team SHRD is the property of @cassandra55/@askteamshrd on Tumblr.

Team SHRD – Counter Attack

It had been several long months, a continuous cycle of battles that took every ounce of the young Hunters strength, cunning and willpower just to survive to see another day where they would proceed to launch themselves into the fray once more.

Team SHRD had no regrets, they’d chosen this for themselves. Ever since the fall of Beacon Academy the second year Haven students had been at the forefront of the battle against the Creatures of Grimm, the monsters emboldened by the dread and anger permeating seemingly every town and village.

The first stop of their mission was a brief stay at their leader, Sylvane Hamelin’s, home on one of the small island settlements just of the coast of Vale where the members of Team SHRD who still had families to write to did so, ensuring that their relatives knew that they were alive and as safe as they could be considering their trade. From then the four teens had made their way onto the continent of Anima, several of the port cities scattered around the expansive Kingdoms’ coast were accepting refugees from Vale and the ships carrying them needed as many capable fighters as they could find, the horrors that lurked in the ocean were inevitably drawn to the beleaguered souls within the vessels and Team SHRD had faced off against nightmares made of teeth and tentacles alongside older Hunters and sell-swords until they mercifully spotted land on the horizon.

From there things had been no easier, Team SHRD had continued onwards, trekking through the wilderness of Anima and lending their prowess to those villages and convoys in need of them along the way.

Which brought them to their current predicament.

“MOVE!” Sylvane’s order came out in a frightened scream as their quarry dove. The lean and petite girls’ hands flying to her mouth as two of her team-mates narrowly avoided harm. Demian, the sombre crow Faunus perpetually clad in dark clothing leapt backwards, wings unfurling and carrying him to safety; his twin shotguns Life and Death firing relentlessly. Hunter Woods, the tanned Vaccuan whose Faunus Heritage most people never suspected until he removed his sunglasses was pulled to safety by the final member of Team SHRD; Rosalya Crystallite

“Thanks for that Rosa” Hunter drawled out, his accent becoming more prominent as he nodded to his team-mate; the tall and athletic Cat Faunus retracting almost invisibly thin wires back beneath her gloves.

“Regrouping may be the most sensible option available to us at present” she noted, glowering at the Grimm which was now circling above them with distaste

“Sylvane, call it!” Hunter demanded, their leader didn’t hesitate

“Everyone group up, watch each others backs” her team hurried to act on her orders, Demian reaching her first and giving the girl he saw as his sister a little gentle teasing as they stood back to back

“And you though I was exaggerating when I said Anima was a hellhole”

“Kinda” she admitted with a scowl, her time in Mistral had been brief as she’d been a student of Haven only a few months before Team SHRD made their way to her native Vale for the Vytal Tournament.

“This is some bullshit” Hunter growled, swiftly changing his weapon from its’ double ended spear form into a longbow and triggering his Semblance ‘Far-sight' every feather of his targets’ underbelly became visible in perfect detail to him and he seemed to instinctively know which way the Grimm would turn next; he let loose a single arrow and the Grimm shrieked as it found its’ mark, joining dozens of other such injuries that had failed to bring it down

“This is absurd” Rosalya huffed indignantly as she drew her daggers, known as the Ethereal Dance; feline eyes narrowed “I thought the Beringrel were offensively resilient but this beast simply refuses to be beaten”

“Oh it’s gonna get beaten” Hunter snapped “Cos I did not, I repeat did NOT leave Vaccuo just so I could get killed by an Oum damned Hummingbird Grimm!”

“We need a plan” Demian turned to Sylvane, both hopeful and reassuring; seeing her uncertain glances he added “We’re miles from any civilians, don’t worry about collateral or anything else. Give the order and we’ll follow”

“It’s preparing to dive!” Rosalya interrupted, having been keeping watch over their target

“It’s gonna do that thing with it’s voice!” Hunter added

“Take cover!” Sylvane’s instruction was quickly followed; the woodlands they were fighting in were far from dense, something that allowed the Grimm far more manoeuvrability but there were enough trees for each of the four Hunters to scatter and duck behind one as the Grimm swooped down to attack.

They’d been told by the settlement that had hired them that this particular monster was called a Distorter due to some of its’ particular capabilities. It was smaller than the average Nevermore, though larger than the Hunters locked in battle against it; its’ wingspan however was easily a dozen feet, atrophied limbs lay flat along its’ belly while its’ talons had adapted into curving scythe like blades that raked the ground as it dove while its’ beak was a narrow point, almost as long its’ body and covered in small ridges and hook like protrusions. Its’ underside was unprotected while its’ back was covered in the bone coloured carapace common to the creatures of Grimm.

“Cover your ears!” Hunter warned, a moment later the Distorter let loose a terrible sound, its’ entire body vibrating as it dove towards where Team SHRD had been, the noise was deafening and seemed to attack several octaves at once. Both painfully high pitched and low enough to be felt in ones chest; as it reached the ground the Distorter lowered its’ beak, the protrusion still subject to ultrasonic vibrations as it tore another long gouge into the ground.

“Okay I think I have an idea” Sylvane called out from behind the tree she was using as cover “Demian can you get me airborne?”

“With my wings no, with my Semblance….give me a minute”

“We may not have a minute” Rosalya interjected as the Distorter wheeled around again. Sylvane chewed her lip nervously, this was going to require some daring.

“Demian, use your Semblance get me up there. Hunter, cover Demian until I give you an opening-”

“You got it”

“Rosalya. I need a distraction”

“Understood” the feline nodded, a small smirk twisting the corners of her mouth as she prepared to leap from cover “Permission to wreak havoc?”

“Granted” with that single word the plan flew into motion. Demian crouched and focused, his Semblance was known as Arcane Runes. The abilities had been described by his former associates in the White Fang as 'Our own Schnee Glyphs’ though this was never done directly to the Crow Faunus’s face. A series of geometric shapes formed from pure Aura flickered around him, gradually taking shape and becoming more solid while Demian desperately tried to block out the sounds of Rosalya taunting the Grimm with her particularly expansive vocabulary.

“Demian, I don’t want to rush you but she can only use her Semblance for so long-”

“Ready” Sylvane was cut off, Demian wiped sweat from his brow and turned to his team leader “Your chariot awaits” Sylvane couldn’t hide an excited grin as she took in the construct Demian had produced; a Nevermore made of pulsating obsidian; the edges of its’ form tinged with the deepest purple. As she clambered on Hunter lowered his sunglasses, letting the concern in his vibrant green and distinctly inhuman eyes show

“Be careful”

“I’ll try” she used one arm to hold herself in position while her free hand rested on ’Ratten Choir’, her weapon was currently in its’ flute form at her hip “Demian, I’m ready when you are” with a silent nod Demian urged his construct into motion and with a flap of its’ mighty yet intangible wings the Nevermore took to the sky

“Oh wow” Sylvane gasped as she looked down on their impromptu battlefield from above “Rosalya really did mean havoc” her Atlesian born team-mate had sheathed her daggers and was relying on the wires hidden within her cybernetic hands which were in turn masked by her gloves, the prosthetics had been a secret that not even her team had known about for their first few months together. She was also making use of her Semblance 'Nova' simultaneously demanding the Grimm’s attention yet making herself nearly impossible to hit as she became the epicentre of a sphere of golden light, a precursor to her teleportation. Each time the Distorter swooped low Rosalya vanished, though not before pulling the Dust infused wires taut and severing the trunks of the trees they were wrapped around at the time, causing them to fall directly into the Grimm’s path.

“A little closer, a little closer” Sylvane urged the construct despite knowing that it had no will of its’ own and was controlled solely by Demian. Eventually however she drew near enough to leap from the back of the conjured Grimm onto the genuine monster and hold on for dear life as it thrashed in mid air to dislodge her. After what seemed like a terrified eternity of struggling she managed to withdraw her flute and bring it to her lips and use it as an amplifier for her Semblance, known as 'Choir' which granted her the ability to hypnotise through music. As the first few notes of a haunting melody from her childhood sounded the Distorter fell silent, bent to her will though it struggled against her and Sylvane knew she had mere moments, even with her weapon boosting her natural abilities

“HUNTER!” she dared to lower Ratten Choir from her lips for long enough to give the signal, immediately returning to the instrument and forcing the Grimm to dive directly downwards. The ground rushed up to meet her and the thought that this wasn’t going to work filled her with dread despite the adrenalin high coursing through her veins. She was proven wrong however as her friend came into view, leaping from branch to branch of the remaining trees, spear at the ready

“DO IT!” she released her control over the Grimm and shifted Ratten Choir into its’ weapon form, a whip. The Distorter had a brief moment of control over its’ own body, enough to widen its’ eyes in fright before its’ skull was skewered by Hunter’s spear. The Grimm’s body instantly began to fade away into wisps of insubstantial darkness; thankfully Sylvane’s whip had already ensnared a tree branch and she caught hold of Hunter as they both fell, allowing them to make a return to the ground that would later be described as needlessly dramatic.

“That” Rosalya noted pointedly as she made her way over to them “Probably counted as an egregious violation of several dozen Atlesian Military codes and could at the most generous be described as foolhardy….It was also quite frankly the most fun I’ve had in months” there was a collection of soft chuckles from the team, even Demian joining in as he drew close

“I’ve got you” Rosalya took his arm and draped it over her shoulders, seeing that he was evidently drained by maintaining a construct of such size and complexity

“That tune you were playing?” Hunter raised an eyebrow, Sylvane squired with embarrassment as she realised that her inner child had been on display for a few moments “Wasn’t that the Dragon Zord theme?”

“Be quiet” Sylvane hid behind her hands amidst a chorus of laughter. As it died down she drew her Scroll and began typing out a text message. Thankfully the CCT had been restored to an extent that allowed communication within the Kingdoms if not between them; a reply came soon

“They know the Grimm is gone?” Demian asked quietly, Sylvane nodded, tilting her Scroll so that the message from the governor who had tasked them with the mission was visible

“Yeah, they have payment in full and we have a ride to Mistral. We should be there by tonight” there were smiled all round, though there was a trace of concern in Demian’s obsidian eyes and his next words seemed forced

“Home sweet home”

The innkeeper, who honestly only though of himself as a barkeep due to the simple fact that very few people who actually had enough money to purchase a room for the night would choose to do so in this particular part of Mistral was having a strange week. It had started with a stranger whose name he never learned first enquiring about of his regular patrons, then returning later to inform him of the mans’ untimely demise in the line of duty and pay off his not insubstantial tab. Things apparently were going to continue to be strange if the trio of people he guessed to be in their late teens was anything to go by.

The one doing the talking was a young man wearing sunglasses despite the setting sun and iron-grey clouds holding the threat of rain overhead, clad in a brown trench-coat and fedora, his voice having a noticeable accent to it. Of the two girls with him he surprisingly to the innkeeper deferred to the smaller Huntress, barely more than five feet tall and wearing a frilly outfit of teal and white matching the flowers in her flowing silvery hair while a black corset accentuated her figure. The final member of the group stood behind them and a little off to the side, tall and frankly a little imposing, her bearing that of a highly disciplined soldier; this Huntress wore a white coat over a golden outfit, matching her ivory locks which seemed to fade to a pale champagne colour at their tips while her hands were completely covered by a pair of gloves

“You’re looking for a room?” the innkeeper asked with a confused stare and a raised eyebrow after sizing up the newcomers “Here?”

“Yeah, here” the young man nodded “You’ve got rooms right?”

“I’ve got rooms if you’ve got money” the bald man grunted

“Show him what we just got paid for that job” the Hunter laughed, the shorter of the two Huntresses stepped forwards and displayed her Scroll, the innkeepers eyes widened more than a little at the almost endless stream of payments this group seemed to be receiving; none of them especially large bounties but the sheer volume of them spoke to their skill and drive

“Okay, I’ll get some keys now. Just the three of you?”

“Four” the Huntress corrected “We weren’t sure what your policy on weapons was so our friend is outside holding ours” the innkeeper gave a deep rumbling laugh

“Oh you kids are funny, polite but funny. In this part of town everyone’s carrying. Tell your friend to come in” the taller Huntress made her way to the door and called in her team-mate, apparently named Demian. When he entered the innkeeper’s blood ran cold, the teen was pale with unruly black hair and dark clothing carrying a plethora of weapons but what drew his attention were the ebony feathered wings wrapped around his shoulders seemingly for warmth

“FUCK NO!” he spat, suddenly furious “NOT A FUCKING CHANCE, NO FAUNUS!”

“Really now” the Hunter with the Vaccuan accent drawled out, tone suddenly icy as he lowered his glasses. The innkeeper gulped as he realised that he was not staring into the eyes of a human “Cos I count three Faunus and only one racist” the taller Huntress was stalking towards him and the innkeeper glanced at her eyes, gulping as he caught sight of vertical slitted pupils

“Hunter this vile bigoted reprobate isn’t worth our time. He certainly isn’t worth our Lien”

“I don’t have to take this in Vaccuo and I don’t have to take it here either” the man, now known as Hunter insisted “Demian, pass me-”

“No” the smaller Huntress cut him off “We’ll find another hotel….one that doesn’t smell like vomit and wet dog” Hunter glowered at the man for a few more seconds

“Fine, whatever” as he turned and stalked away his team-mates followed, Sylvane throwing one last barb

“I get why the place is empty now, the owner’s a jerk” the innkeeper wisely chose to keep his mouth shut.

The four of them were still wandering through Mistral’s streets half an hour later when the heavens began to open, a fine drizzle that soaked them to the bone as a warning for the deluge to come. Hunter was still fuming

“But seriously though? No Faunus?….The fuck does this guy think he is. Demian come on man surely you wanted to break his nose? I mean me and Rosa can pass for human….You must have gotten that all the time living here”

“I did” Demian admitted with a shrug “But I’ve broken more noses, jaws and limbs than I can count. Hasn’t made the world any less cruel” there were a few moments of awkward silence as the Crow Faunus’s friends were reminded that he had been party to what some would consider atrocities before Rosalya stepped in, with her usual pragmatism

“We can debate the benefits of fracturing the bones of cretinous racists later. Right now we need somewhere to sleep, Demian you’re from Mistral. Do you know anywhere?”

“I can think of a few places we could go….Not sure that they’d be safe for Sylvane though”

“Why wouldn’t they….oh” his friends eyes widened as the realisation hit her “White Fang?”

“Mostly just sympathisers” Demian answered before a thought occurred to him “Although….there is a place not too far from here. It won’t be cheap and it will be filled with criminals. It’s actually a place that’s considered neutral ground by the different gangs in the city”

“Oh we have a few places like that back home, cool” Hunter noted cheerfully

“This has the potential to become….Volatile” Rosalya noted “Hunters tend to be fairly easy to identify and it’s very unlikely that members of the criminal underworld would appreciate our presence”

“We probably wouldn’t be the first Hunters to turn up looking for work” Hunter shrugged; Sylvane let out a scandalised gasp and Demian playfully covered her ears and retorted in an affronted whisper

“Don’t say things like that….let her keep her innocence for the love of Oum” Hunter was doubled over laughing at his partners’ overly theatrical display while Sylvane herself merely pouted before taking charge

“Okay, let’s go”

It took them a little longer to find the hotel than expected. By the time they arrived the sky had darkened completely and they were thoroughly drenched, wiping rain slicked hair from their eyes and hoping that they didn’t track too much mud into the reception area with them

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Sylvane chirped excitedly “It looks so fancy”

“You don’t become a mob boss just to sleep in a motel” Hunter murmured with a shrug while Demian and Rosalya took stock of their surroundings, the feline Faunus feeling quite at ease amidst the luxurious red carpeting and mahogany and golden décor, it was the other patrons of this establishment that could be seen milling about at the bar visible from the receptionists desk that concerned her. Demian was quite the inverse, he’d very rarely spent time in such comfortable accommodations and when he had it had been a prelude to something that he now looked back on in disgust. Criminals of any variety however, were honestly a source of comfort, a sign that no matter how desperate Remnant became some things would never change. He was disturbed from his musings by a gentle nudge from Hunter

“Couple of Faunus staring at us near the back left corner of the bar, they’ve been pointing at you” Demian discretely turned, making it appear as if he were preening his wings as he peered over his shoulder in the direction his partner had specified. His stomach lurched when he realised that one of the group was wearing a jacket with a symbol depicting three claw marks over the right breast; displaying their allegiance to the White Fang with pride.

“So it’s bad then?” Hunter muttered, seeing what little colour Demian’s face had drain away “Wanna start shooting”

“We shoot anyone in here we’ll have Mistral’s entire underworld looking for us within the hour”

“Figured as much” Hunter snorted “Ah well”

“But they’re in the same position” Demian mused, quickly glancing to where Sylvane and Rosalya were in the process of booking a room for the four of them he made a decision “Wait here” without waiting for a reply he made his way into the bar, through the glass doors separating it from the reception that he noticed were bulletproof. As he drew close to the group of half a dozen Faunus he realised that they were all young, barely any of them older than himself and each of them was painfully green, lacking the composure that came from fighting the White Fang’s bloody campaigns for years. They were also whispering nervously amongst themselves while casting glances his way

“Told you it was him” the one Demian guessed to be the oldest, an insect Faunus of some variety whose antennae twitched nervously breathed out

“You told them I am whom?” Demian demanded, voice a low whisper; pouring every ounce of menace he could muster into his facade

“The harbinger of death” a moose Faunus with the physique that could probably flip a truck by hand answered, though she seemed unwilling or unable to meet his gaze

“Dude….you’re like the bogeyman but cool, they say you and Adam Taurus tore an entire Atlesian robot factory apart one time” another clearly new recruit added

“I have never been on a mission with Adam Taurus in my life” Demian managed to pass off his surprise as merely disgruntled. Was it possible that they didn’t know that he’d defected from the White Fang

“Really?” the insect Faunus seemed shocked “I thought you were both in Vale together, that’s why you were deep cover as a Haven student right?” Demian fought the urge to curse, this could either be a blessing or catastrophic depending on his next words

“We both had our own jobs to do. We both succeeded” he was rewarded by a chorus of cheers from the White Fang initiates who all seemed eager to shake his hand; amidst all the half drunken babble one of them said something that made his heart stop

“You’re here for Sienna Khan’s funeral tomorrow night right?”

“Still can’t believe that a fucking Hunter got her….right there in her chamber” another added

“At the usual place?” Demian enquired, hoping his tone came across as merely conversational. There was a clearing outside of the Kingdoms’ walls where the White Fang would honour their dead with a greatly reduced risk of being raided by the authorities. He received several confirmations that this was indeed the case before silencing them with a wave of the hand.

“I’ll be paying my respects….But I need to borrow one of your masks” he forced a wry smile onto his face “Mine is still in a Beacon Academy dormitory and it would be rude of me to appear before High Leader Khan without one” the table became a hive of frantic scrabbling as each of the initiates struggled to be the first to give their mask to one of the White Fangs’ most prominent fighters, even more feared than the dreaded Bane-Saw. Taking a mask from a canine Faunus whose tail wagged so fast Demian feared it may come loose, the Crow Faunus pocketed it and rose to his feet

“Tomorrow then” he struggled to keep the stoic demeanour he’d been known for as an enforcer in place as he turned to leave, hoping the whole time he walked back to the rest of Team SHRD that the White Fang grunts couldn’t see his knees shaking.

It had taken Demian most of the following day to convince his team-mates that the solo mission he was currently embarking on wasn’t as suicidally risky as it sounded, longer still to convince them not to covertly follow him and even now as he made his way towards the hidden clearing which would hold Sienna Khan’s funeral pyre he was not entirely convinced that he would be able to enter, take stock of the condition of the White Fang and leave without incident. Nervously he ran his hands through his hair and his eyes darted around searching for any sign of movement between the trees from behind the unadorned gunmetal mask of an initiate; Demian allowed himself a moment to idly wonder how long it had been since he’d last worn one of these until sounds reached his ears, cheering in the distance. He was close.

After several more minutes of walking, heart pounding in his chest at a rate that seemed to increase with every step the crowd finally came into view and Demian realised he wouldn’t be able to see a thing from the ground. Thankfully the idea of someone wanting a better vantage point would raise no suspicions here and with a single flap of his wings and a powerful leap he managed to perch himself on a low hanging tree branch, eyes widening as he took in the sheer scale of Sienna Khan’s funeral. Faunus wearing the colours of every chapter of the White Fang could be seen below filling the entire clearing with a bustling mass of bodies around the as yet unlit pyre and the platform beside it from which eulogies would be given; the crowd stretched out into the trees and Demian fought against the urge to shudder as he saw the people responsible for keeping order at the event; the Praetor Cohort, clad in crimson and wielding monstrous Dust powered halberds these were Sienna Khan’s elite guard; each of them had probably done things that even Demian with his moniker of 'Harbinger of death’ would have balked at and each of them were more than capable of mowing down an entire team of Hunters, or an entire paladin of the machines Atlas insisted were fit to fight wars. And there was the crux of Demian’s suspicions and misgivings, Sienna Khan had been assassinated and the Praetor Cohort hadn’t paraded the body of the Hunter responsible through the streets in retaliation, Mistral’s news outlets from what Team SHRD had managed to learn from spending their day at a library had said nothing, combined with the sheer volume of White Fang members gathered on short notice at a time when communication between Kingdoms was still reduced to written letters it was clear that something was going on.

Demian’s thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt as he suddenly became aware of the deafening silence. The air itself seemed to become still as upwards of a thousand Faunus waited with baited breath; a procession made their way into the clearing, a dozen Praetors flanking a single figure clad in black

“Here we are” Demian whispered to himself, this was what he was here for. The identity of Sienna Khan’s successor would heavily dictate the direction the organisation moved forwards in and he was determined to find that information first hand. As the crowds parted around the guards Demian caught sight of a flash of swept back and spiked crimson hair and everything seemed to stop, blood ran cold in his veins and his ears were filled buzzing as the entirety of his consciousness was devoted to processing the fact that he was looking at the worst thing in the world.

Adam Taurus was the new High Leader of the White Fang.

The Bull Faunus made his way onto the platform, still flanked by guards and when he spoke his low, silky voice carried so that every Faunus present could here it

“BROTHERS AND SISTERS OF THE WHITE FANG. HERE LAYS OUR GREAT LEADER SIENNA KHAN! HERE LAYS ONE OF THE GREATEST WOMEN I HAVE EVER KNOWN! KILLED BY THE HUMANS AND I WILL NOT FEEL FIT TO TAKE UP THE TITLE LEFT TO ME UNTIL I ENSURE IT CAN NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN!” Adam paused, allowing a moment of anticipation from his now captivated crowd before delivering the words that sent them into a crescendo of bloodlust “BY MARCHING ON MISTRAL AND LAYING WASTE TO HAVEN! THERE WILL BE NO MORE HUNTERS ON ANIMA!”

“I am so sorry” Demian whispered out to team-mates that weren’t there to here it as he drew his shotguns “I’m sorry I’m not coming home” he combined the weapons, with a series of mechanical whirs and clicks which were lost in the cacophony coming from below and a moment later he was bringing the scope of a high powered sniper rifle to his eye. He could kill Adam Taurus here and now, but he knew he’d never make it out alive. It was a sacrifice that he was more than willing to make, he just hoped his friends would understand.

“Lower the weapon” a gruff rumbling voice demanded as a gargantuan paw like hand settled on the back of his neck, Demian struggled not to whimper as he felt claws digging into his flesh, reaching for his pulse

“I said lower the weapon” the voice was more insistent and Demian complied, loathing himself as he separated the rifle into its’ twin components and holstering them, daring to turn his head a fraction he was perhaps more surprised than he should have been to see the hooded and masked face of a Praetor staring back at him, what he was right to be stunned by however was the mans’ next actions; namely lowering his Dust halberd and pushing his mask up so that rested atop his head beneath the hood that was still pulled low

“So it true then, you defected. Long time no see Demi”

“Blue?” Demian gasped out at the familiar face of the bear Faunus he’d begun his own meteoric rise through the ranks of the White Fang alongside “You're….You’re a Praetor?”

“A recent promotion” the words sounded as though they left an unpleasant taste in his old friends’ mouth “After the purge”

“Purge?” Demian’s eyebrows raised enough to be visible above his mask “After Sienna?” he nodded downwards to wear Adam was now holding the torch that would light the pyre

“Who’re you here with?” Blue demanded quickly, seemingly just as nervous as the Crow Faunus he’d caught about to commit murder “You doing this for the council?”

“No” Demian shook his head vehemently, he may have left the Fang but he still had some very specific opinions on the Kingdoms’ ruling body “My team just got back, we’ve been helping refugees from Vale. I just came to scout” there were a few seconds that seemed to stretch for an eternity while Blue weighed up his options, when the Praetor spoke it was in a hushed tone that conveyed indescribable fear

“There was never a Hunter. Adam purged the Praetor Cohort of anybody who wouldn’t swear loyalty to him….the day before he killed Sienna”

“What” Demian breathed out as his mind raced at a mile a minute, connecting the several disparate pieces of information he had at his disposal into a truly horrifying greater picture. Adam had orchestrated the fall of Beacon, Adam Taurus was notoriously heavy handed even amongst the White Fang, having seemingly no issue with dispensing collective punishment on entire families, if Adam had managed to seize control of the entirety of the organisation by force then the amount of different chapters accounted for suddenly made sense, they already knew to be on the move before Sienna’s death had even occurred. Demian fought the urge to vomit as the realisation washed over him like a tidal wave of icy dread

“He planned this all along. Attacking Haven isn’t just him giving the troops something to rally behind-”

“No” Blue confirmed “He killed Sienna because she wouldn’t give him the go ahead, then used her as a martyr for his cause….and it gets worse”

“How?” Demian demanded “How can it get worse”

“It’s not even about equality any more” Blue gave a bitter laugh “He’s found his old partner after she escaped Beacon. She’s gone home to Menagerie….Adam has ordered Ghira and Kali Belladonna dead and Blake brought in alive”

“He can’t be serious” Demian’s wings fluttered in agitation “Kali Belladonna was a Praetor, one of the first” the idea of sending an assassin against someone who had spent a large portion of their life preparing for just such an eventuality seemed ludicrous, that was saying nothing of the fact her husband was the chieftain of the island

“He sent Brother Yuma” if it were possible Demian’s blood ran even colder. Adam Taurus was an amoral fanatic, Demian himself had once been considered a cold and detached enforcer, Brother Yuma was something else entirely. Brother Yuma was a monster

“Oh my Oum”

“I know” Blue shuddered, shaking his head as he lowered it; unable to meet his old friends’ eyes as they discussed what he’d been party to

“There’s a raid on a Dust mine tomorrow” Demian’s eyes narrowed at the information

“Blue swear to me this isn’t a trap”

“I swear” the Bear Faunus promised, voice wavering “Everything’s gone crazy and I don’t think we can stop it. But we can at least slow things down until the people who can show up”

“If anyone can” Demian sighed, allowing himself to feel a little of the soul crushing weight seemingly settling on the shoulders of every Hunter on Remnant “What do you know?”

“Just the bear necessities” Blue grinned “Atlas closing it’s borders wasn’t accounted for, Nobody thought they’d actually do it. Have you got a map on your Scroll, I’ll show you what you need to know”

Hunter Woods returned to the hotel room still wearing a mischievous grin caused by the reactions of the hotel staff to the several bags of what was clearly fast food of the exceptionally cheap and greasy variety. Hunter found the staff here to be far too uppity considering that this hotel was a den of thieves, killers and mobsters; even if it was a very comfortable room.

“Honeys I’m home” he called out over the sound of Sylvane’s flute, his leader often played to herself to calm down after a mission while her two pet mice did something that could best be described as dancing. Hunter was never quite sure if was of the animals own accord of Sylvane’s Semblance compelling them, at this point he was a little afraid to ask.

“Hey Hunter” Sylvane chirped happily, ending the melody abruptly as he entered “Ooh you got it, smells nice, thanks” Hunter handed the bag over, knowing better than to get between Sylvane and the absurd amount of food she could put away, she was already loosening her corset in anticipation. The Vaccuan turned his attention to the other occupant of the room

“You want food? If you don’t get it soon she’ll have inhaled it all” Rosalya didn’t turn to to face him, she was currently sat at the room’s dresser with her gloves removed, something that would never occur in the presence of people she didn’t trust implicitly

“I’m not hungry” she stated bluntly, brow furrowed as she examined the inner workings of her prosthetic hands in excruciating detail. As she removed an almost microscopic mote of dust marring some of the impossibly sensitive workings with a pair of tweezers, Hunter almost managed to break her focus with his next words

“He’s gonna be fine. Worrying about him so much it puts you off your food won’t help none”

“I’m concerned about a team-mate doing something potentially reckless, nothing more” the ivory haired Huntress answered, perhaps a little too suddenly. Hunter and Sylvane gave each other knowing looks which Rosalya pretended not to notice, in her team-mates minds the fact that she’d felt a need to object at all spoke volumes.

“So we didn’t find anything in the recent newspapers at the library” Hunter drawled with a yawn as he stretched himself out on his bed, thoroughly unused to such comfortable surroundings “What do we do if Demian doesn’t find anything?”

“We could always check in at Haven” Sylvane suggested “I know classes aren’t in session but we’ve gone for a while, we should probably let Professor Lionheart know we made it back to Mistral”

“We should check the assignments in the city square” Rosalya countered “As pleasant as being back at the Academy would be the fact remains we’re Hunters. If there are people in need then we have a duty”

“True, true” Sylvane nodded through a mouthful of ludicrously unhealthy food “It’d be nice to catch out breath for a little before we head back out though….What about you Hunter?”

“I’m not too sure” he shrugged “But the guy at the take out did mention that there were some other students Hunters in town recently….Ya think it might be worth seeing if it’s anyone we know?”

“Maybe” Sylvane gave her own shrug, before she could add anything the door to the hotel room flew open; the trio of Hunters instinctively diving for the weapons only to pause when they saw the identity of the newcomer “Holy Oum don’t scare us like that” Sylvane chided with a laugh, her cheeriness fizzled out as she took in her winged team-mates appearance; paler than even his normal pallid complexion, sweating and his hands and wings shook as he tried to steady himself with deep breaths

“What’s wrong?” Rosalya was naturally the first to ask “Are you okay?” feline eyes were wide in shock as she watched the normally somewhat detached teen struggle to regain his composure

“Adam Taurus. The Adam Taurus who led the White Fang in Vale is now the leader of the organisation as a whole” the words took a few moments to sink in, all of them had been present at the battle of Beacon though only Rosalya seemed to grasp the severity of Demian’s news

“The one with a vendetta against the Schnee Dust Company….That is….Unfortunate” Demian gave a bitter laugh

“Unfortunate, yeah let’s go with that” the crow Faunus finally managed to appear something approaching calm “There’s a mining facility not far from Mistral’s borders. The White Fang are planning to hit tomorrow evening as the sun sets; if we can’t stop them then they’ll have everything they need to launch an attack”

“Oh shit” Hunter’s eyebrows rose “They’re out for blood after Sienna-”

“Exactly” Demian nodded “So we need to either make a plan to fight them or make a plan to get people as far away from Haven as possible; that’s the target”

“You think we’d run?” Hunter demanded, frankly more than a little affronted

“I think you’d be an idiot if you didn’t at least consider a retreat”

“He’s right” Rosalya added “Adam Taurus with a larger and more capable force at his disposal is a prospect to be feared. There’s a reasonable chance that we might fail to slow down the White Fang’s preparations-”

“We’re not running” Sylvane asserted bluntly, rising to her less than impressive full height with all the authority she could muster “We’re going to stop them tomorrow. We might not be able to win a war against the White Fang but we don’t have to, we just have to keep winning individual battles and forcing them to pull back”

“I’m with the little lady” Hunter beamed, eagle eyes positively shining with anticipation; as a Vaccuan born Faunus he had a special brand of distaste for the terrorists than presumed to speak for his people

“Please don’t call me that” Sylvane whined, the image of a battle hardened commander crumpling instantly. Attempting to maintain it she turned back to Demian, the crow Faunus’s wings had wrapped around him in a display of nerves “How did you find out about this?”

“Adam used Sienna Khan’s funeral as a rallying cry, everyone knows about the attack on Haven” he answered with a grimace “The attack on the Dust mine is being kept quiet though, I heard about it through an old contact pretty high up”

“Will Adam Taurus be there in person?”

“No” Demian allowed himself a small smile as he delivered possibly the only titbit of good news he had

“Then we can do this” Sylvane gazed at her team, filling with determination and hope “We will do this”

“We need information” Rosalya cautioned as she slid her gloves back over her hands, having discretely reattached the outer casings over the course of the conversation

“I know the exact location, who’s leading, how many people and their overall plan” Demian managed to reflect some of his leaders’ optimism, he may view her as a younger sibling but he would openly admit that Sylvane was a constant source of inspiration to him

“Good work” Rosalya beamed, pretending not to notice the slight blush that crept across his face, the two shared a look that lingered for a few moments until Sylvane spoke again

“Okay, Demian you know the White Fang better than anyone else. Rosalya you’re the brains, I can think of the fly but you know how to sit down and plan. Hunter-”

“Yes Ma'am” he chuckled

“You know how to get down and dirty”

“Damn right I do”

“So” Sylvane’s face split into a comically wide and childlike grin “Let’s figure out how we’re gonna save a Dust mine and save Haven”

It was almost upon them. Team SHRD had spent the majority of the evening plotting out their strategy to counter the White Fang raid followed by getting more sleep than any of them would have believed before the fall of Beacon, the idea of such peaceful rest before what was to come would have been unthinkable to them less than year ago. It had taken them hours to successfully infiltrate the premises, Demian had stated that his contact didn’t know of any White Fang operatives inside the mine, in fact it seemed that every Faunus working there had been laid off soon after the attack in Vale under a number of flimsy pretexts; though Team SHRD contained two Faunus who were more than capable of passing as human and were as such unwilling to take the risk of informing the manager of the facility, knowing that there could still be spies inside.

“Anything guys?” Sylvane asked as the four of them lay flat against the roof of an office building situated to the side of the mine itself. The mine was hidden within a towering mountain, the majority of the Dust situated below ground and the waterfall which had once cascaded down its’ side had been frozen solid by the Ice Dust, were it not been stripped for its’ resources it would have been breathtakingly beautiful. In front of the office was a wall easily twenty feet tall, tipped with razor wire and made of reinforced Atlesian steel, the checkpoint being the only entrance into the facility; less than a quarter of a mile in the distance a fence made of several lays of interwoven chains formed another barrier against intruders. The sun setting on the horizon bathed everything in a golden glow

“Not yet” Demian murmured tonelessly, his shotguns combined into their sniper rifle form allowing him to peer down the scope and augment his already greater than human vision.

“I can get a better look” Hunter offered, green eyes glowing as he activated his Semblance and stared intently in the direction that the White Fang would be arriving from. Eventually his expression darkened into a determined scowl. Withdrawing his weapon and deploying it in longbow form he nocked an arrow tipped with a black crystal that glistened and shimmered in the failing light; a Gravity Dust tip, a common addition to Hunters’ arsenal when armour piercing rounds were a necessity.

“They’re coming?” Sylvane breathed out, tone finally betraying the nerves creeping up on her

“Half a dozen trucks” Hunter confirmed “I can see the driver at the front, definitely Fang….I can feel the bad vibes coming off 'em” a little known fact of Hunter’s Semblance was that it did more than magnify his vision, it allowed him to see the unseen; to a limited extent he could read the strongest emotions of those he saw"

“We’re prepared, we’re determined, we’re ready” Rosalya affirmed, though her fingers drumming against the roof with a metallic clang gave away her apprehension.

“She’s right” Demian, surprisingly was the one to offer support “Either way, it’s time” his ebony wings tensed as the trucks came into view. With a slow exhale her disconnected Life and Death before recombining the Shotguns in a new configuration, their much less frequently used grenade launcher mode.

“Wait for it” Sylvane whispered as she drew Ratten Choir in its’ flute form, watching intently as the first of the trucks made their way through the first checkpoint “Wait for it….NOW!”

In a single moment the world seemed to be torn apart in a cacophony of sound and explosions. The moment the last truck had made its’ way beyond the chain fence Demian launched a grenade into the cab of the first truck, Hunter sending an arrow sailing into the wheel of the rear truck. The thunderous blast had the intended result, alarms began to blare and the gates at both checkpoints began to slide closed even as White Fang fighters poured from the trucks desperately searching for the source of the attack. The leader of the group was evident, they were the Faunus flanked by a trio of the Praetor Cohort.

“Oh my Oum what’s happening?” a frightened voice from below shrieked, Sylvane’s cue to act. She brought her flute to her lips and focused on the terrified office worker struggling to comprehend the scene from her window. The first few notes of the melody which carried her Semblance brought the young woman under Sylvane’s control and compelled her to follow a single imperative; raise more alarms and get to safety.

“UP THERE!” the White Fang had spotted them, if the shout didn’t confirm it the incoming maelstrom of bullets did

“Everyone knows what to do!” Sylvane yelled as she leapt from the roof, the rest of Team SHRD launching into action after her. Hunter stayed in position on the roof, bow sending arrows that burned, froze, electrocuted and exploded into the roughly two dozen attacks and their vehicles as his friends made their landings.

“Kill the traitor!” the leader of the attack bellowed as Demian landed, wings tucking flat against his back. From this angle it was clear to see that the leader of the group was a Crocodile Faunus with a countless teeth intended to tear flesh from bones “Bring his head back to-” he was silenced by the blinding flash of light caused by Rosalya teleporting beside him and launching a devastating offensive with her daggers. The first wave of grunts to try and act on the commanders’ final order found themselves halted by a barrage of arrows then swiftly countered by Sylvane whose whips wrapped around the chest of an emperor penguin Faunus, the weapon retracted allowing the minute Huntress to deliver a brutal drop kick and begin the task of taking down any fighters that weren’t picked off by Hunter’s marksmanship.

All that was left for Demian was the task of fighting a trio of Praetors alone, a herculean task that more experienced fighters would have paled at.

“Come” the crow Faunus’s voice came out in a dull monotone as the trio charged, halberds raised “I am death. Death can’t be killed” he found himself fighting a shudder at the ease with which he slipped back into the cold and merciless of persona of 'The Harbinger of Death’ the first of the elite fighters to reach him, a tusked Walrus Faunus found Death levelled at his face and discharged at near point blank range; the blast fuelled by Fire Dust engulfing his skull ensuring that even if his Aura held he would be blinded and deafened for a few moments. Demian followed up by throwing Life into the air and activating his Semblance, a single rune made of flickering darkness conjuring a small knife in his palm which was buried in the Praetors’ thigh as he crouched under the wide slash of the second attacker. Firing Death into the Mantis Faunus’s gut he charged forwards and caught Life as it fell, firing over her shoulder at the third Praetor. The Mantis Faunus tried to stab at his stomach, a pair of hastily conjured runes caused a pulsating wall of obsidian darkness to appear between them, slanted at an angle that caused it to catch Demian’s aggressor squarely in the throat when he sent it flying forwards. As the Mantis struggled to rise, her mandibles clicking angrily, Demian aimed Life and Death and let the shotguns roar; explosive and incendiary rounds laying waste to the asphalt. His tactics were dirty, disorienting and intended to stun before delivering a finishing blow. The terror tactics of the White Fang enforcer he’d been a lifetime ago, old habits it seemed, died hard.

A bellow of rage behind him alerted Demian to the Walrus Faunus returning to his feet and charging, despite blood flowing freely from a gash in his right leg that was clearly hindering his movement. Demian threw his left arm out in a wild swipe, the barrel of Life striking the man across the cheek and sending a web of cracks along his mask. The Crow Faunus felt his heart stop in his chest when he pulled the trigger and heard nothing but an empty click. There was no time to reload

“Y'know what’s really fun about bird Faunus?” his attacker bellowed as he tackled Demian to the ground, a vicious kick to the skull ensuring that he stayed down “Hollow, easy to break bones. I’m gonna crush your skull you son of a-” the sentence was cut short as the Praetor was sent hurtling back by a blast of red light, an effect most commonly associated with the Cohort’s own weapons.

“Get up” Demian’s eyes widened at the familiar voice “Get up Demi!”

“Blue!” Demian demanded as he scrambled to his feet and retrieved his weapons, holstering them “You didn’t say you’d be part of the attack!”

“Yeah well, all part of the plan” the Bear Faunus’s smile could be seen faltering beneath his mask

“So that’s how it’s going to be” Demian hissed, hands becoming wreathed in the darkness of his Semblance “You’re gonna bring me back to Adam?”

“No” Blue paused, seemingly checking that the other two members of the Praetor Cohort were indeed unconscious before removing his mask and holding his weapon out to his old friend “You’re gonna bring me in”

“What?”

“I can’t do this any more!” Blue spat “I can’t do all this grand conspiracy shit and I can’t just run away like you did! I still have a family Demi, Adam’s already proved he’ll kill people’s families if they run….I need to get captured, it’s the only way” Demian stood in silence for a seconds that felt like hours. Being the one to take away his friends’ freedom was a burden he wasn’t sure he could carry until he realised that Blue spoke the truth. There was no other way

“I’m sorry it has to be like this” he sighed as he took the Halberd and aimed

“Me too” Blue gave a nervous chuckle before the crimson burst of energy from the weapon sent him hurtling backwards, limp and unmoving. Casting the weapon aside Demian reloaded Life and Death in record time and turned his attention to the battle that had been going on around him. The trucks were utterly demolished, the smell of smoke assaulting his nostrils as several of them burned while laid on their sides. Hunter had joined the fray on the ground, assisting Sylvane in combating the clearly inexperienced grunts. His eyes widened when he saw Rosalya, the Crocodile Faunus she fought had lost his mask and several teeth while she sported a bloody nose, a gash above her right eye and her left glove was missing leaving her prosthetic hand on display; the knuckles stained with her opponents’ blood.

“Rosa get down!” Demian bellowed, using as much of his Aura as he could feasibly spare he cast a series of runes in rapid succession, the end result of which was a glowing Ursa rampaging towards the White Fang commander, with a single swing of his axe the reptilian Faunus removed its’ head and cackled

“Well looks like the canaries won’t be the only bird to die in this-” the air left his lungs as the head of an arrow burst through his chest in a spray of blood

“Their commander is down!” Rosalya called out to Sylvane “Push the advan-” her words were cut short as one of the few remaining grunts who’d watched their leader fall took the opportunity to hurl a makeshift grenade in Demian’s direction. It took the Crow Faunus an inordinate amount of time to realise he hadn’t died and the flash of light he’d seen was in fact Rosalya teleporting him to safety, swaying a little and leaning against him in exhaustion.

“They’re getting away damn it!” Hunter barked, it was true the Crocodile Faunus still lived despite the heavily bleeding hole in his chest and the White Fang still capable of doing so were fleeing from Team SHRD on foot.

“Let 'em go” Sylvane ordered, seemingly struggling to stand; coated in dust, sweat and blood “We can’t catch 'em all”

“We’re going to struggle to detain the criminals we’ve already apprehended” Rosalya noted with an uncharacteristic smile. As if in answer to her statement the reinforced gate of the second checkpoint began to open and a dozen armed guards poured into the area; an upwards glance revealed just as many taking up sniping positions on the wall itself. A middle aged woman whose uniform marked her out as some form of authority tipped her cap in the teens’ direction as she strode over

“Sorry about the response time. That was some impressive fighting, when did you kids graduate Haven?”

“We didn’t” Hunter snorted, earning himself a wide eyed stare of disbelief

“Ma'am” Rosalya saluted “Will you need our assistance in tracking down the White Fang that escaped”

“That won’t be necessary” the head of security returned the salute and gave a confident smirk “When I heard the alarm go off I got in contact with an old friend, he said he’s gonna send some people over. They should be here right about-”

“LET’S START THIS PARTY WITH A YANG!”

“Nora! SMASH!” Team SHRD turned, their expressions united in comical disbelief as they watched the almost cartoonish display of over the top showmanship that the newcomers dispatched the escaping raiders with

“Wait….” Sylvane struggled to contain her disbelief as comprehension dawned on her “Don’t we know those guys?”

“I believe the one using the hammer to….oh my, can a spine do that?” Rosalya gasped “I believe she was one of Pyrrha Nikos’s team-mates”

“Huh” Hunter shrugged “The chick on the bike, didn’t she shoot Mercury Black in the leg….sweet, that guy gave me the creeps” Demian had been too absorbed by the novelty of watching a small Huntress with a red cape, Ruby if he remembered rightly, perform something that resembled a slide tackle at roughly the speed of sound. The mention of Yang Xiao Long brought him to his senses

“We have to talk to them” he sighed “Yang is partnered with Blake Belladonna. She has to know how much trouble Blake is in….I think we’re going to need each others’ help before too long” Team SHRD shared a glance before Sylvane stepped forwards

“Agreed. Let’s go give 'em a warm Haven welcome”

Authors Notes:

let’s summarise:

Team SHRD are doing what I imagine a lot of student teams are doing while the Academies are closed, fighting the good fight in any way they can. Also who wants a Team CFVY spin off series where they’re trying to rebuild Vale after the battle of Beacon? I don’t know if Cass agrees with me but I can’t look at Hunter’s design and not hear a southern drawl. I have no regrets for making a Hummingbird Grimm, none at all. I think that was a pretty nice take down, a good introduction to the teams’ abilities for people who are meeting Team SHRD for the first time. Yes the Dragon Zord theme….It’s a weaponised flute, there’s so many references I could have made; I was tempted to have her player “Lugia’s theme” from Pokemon 2000. Yes it’s the bartender from Vol.5 with the 'No Faunus’ sign outside. Vaccuo is canonically not as racist as the other Kingdom’s a Vaccuan Faunus in Mistral would be in for a culture shock….Which makes me want Sun Wukong’s back story, why did he move to Mistral. The idea for the hotel as neutral ground is from John Wick 2. The 'Praetor Cohort’ are my own invention for this story, I headcanon that those guards around Sienna in Vol.5 are her own personal elite guard; she was the one who made the White Fang more militant, it makes sense that she’d have something like that. I think most Hunters that knew what Adam Taurus was capable off would happily trade their lives for the lives they’d save by assassinating him. Blue the Bear Faunus; yes he’s a jungle book reference….So I had to find a way to work the words “Bear necessities” in somewhere. I have a headcanon that Kali is stupidly bad-ass, so she was a Praetor in this. Anyone else utterly let down by Brother Yuma? Okay, so Cass mentioned she was originally going to ship Rosalya and Demian and reading the bios available for them it just seemed natural to tease and hint a little by having Rosalya be just a little bit Tsundere. I think my frozen waterfall Ice Dust mine is cool, but still not as cool as the floating islands….Seriously RT were holding back waiting til Vol.5 to drop geography like that on us.

#rwby #rwby oc #secret santa #rwby oc secret santa #rwby secret santa #submission

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axvwriter · 7 years

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Ximena’s RP Recap - Rulertale

Below the cut is a summarized and slightly polished version of an rp between me and @rulertaleau. I also might have replaced a couple of swears with some other words. :T Kinda want this blog to be safe to some degree and I’m not too fond of bad words myself. X3

Ximena know will be breaking into the rp between me and @gracefulladybug where we’ve been having Jayden and Shadow Blue interact. Most likely I will summarize those events too, not completely sure if I will since it does take a while to do so.

Ximena entered Rulertale through an opened gate, the same gateway Shadow Blue had used to enter Jayden's universe. It quickly ran to cover in order to hide. Ximena looked about cautiously, waiting for a chance to explore this universe undetected.

"Streamer! Where is Cry!? I've asked you fifty times where she is and you still won't answer me!" Raven, a grumpy looking skeleton, shouted.

"That's because I don't have to. Go look for her." Another skeleton responded. Ximena didn't find this information very useful. Yet it sat down and waited for them to move by so it could too.

"Come on, we're going to go find her." The first creature spoke.

" 'We're'? I didn’t agree to come with you." Streamor responded.

"Just come on." Grateful that the two finally were moving along, Ximena followed them. Treating the two to be its potential tour guide to this universe.

“You still haven't found Blue yet, haven't you checked in with Ekura about his quest?" Streamor said.

"Ekura can go die in a ditch for all I care." Ximena perked up at the word'quest'. This could explain why this unknown universe was connected to an universe its boss had claimed as under its ownership. Though it didn't necessarily mean it was relevant, but still possibly relevant all the same.

"I'm just waiting for the day she kills you." Streamor aimed at Raven.

"I'm waiting for that day too." Ximena wondered if it would be faster to just ask, but it didn't know if they knew anything about the gateway or had anything to do with it.

"Recon' we should head to the Royal Guard center?"

"Yeah, I've got to ask some of them some things..." Raven responded vaguely. Ximena worried this wouldn't be so easy to sneak into. Swishing its tail and tapping it against its own head for a few seconds. Doing so it changed its shape and form into a small crow. Crow Ximena flew over to the two and cawed at them before settling onto Raven's shoulder.

"Are there normally birds here?" Raven asked.

"Not that I know of." Ximena cawed lowly, having failed to pay attention to local fauna. It nestled down, hoping they would disregard this and continue on their way.

"Eh." They disregarded it. The two skeletons arrived at where the royal guards stayed. Ximena constantly turned its head about, taking in as much as it could. Ximena felt restless sitting on his shoulder, but it needed to rest before it could change forms again. It softly pecked at his skull, trying to mentally urge him to give it the answers it wanted. Raven ignored the crow. Ximena nestled itself into his shoulder, taking a sleeping stance. It kept itself half alert, just in case.

"Raven!" A new skeleton, Ekura, yelled as she approached.

"What?" Raven responded.

"Don't you 'what' me! You know what you did!"

"Honestly, no I don't." Ximena let out a muffled caw of annoyance. It shifted its head a bit in order to get a better look at Ekura. Sleep crept ever more over Ximena, further helped by the comfortable position it was in. Ximena wondered when was the last time it had slept?

"You left Dolly and Maken here alone and they made a mess!" Ekura exclaimed at him.

"I'll clean it later." Raven responded, it seemed that Streamor had walked away. Ximena felt further annoyance at this failure of attention. It shook itself awake, refusing to let itself fall asleep. Ximena couldn't fail its boss, not after all boss had done for it. Its shaking caused it to whack its beak against Raven's cheek bone when doing so. Cawing defiantly, it sized up Ekura, ready for to start some trouble in hope that it would wake itself back to fully functioning.

"You failure! Ugh, you're lucky I can't kill you now!" Ekura stormed off.

"Blah blah blah..." Raven mocked, disappointing Ximena's thirst for action. It watched the skeleton stomp away. Ruffling its feathers, it prepared to fly off, curious if they would pay more attention to its seemingly invisible self by taking its favored form. It did so after landing in front of Raven, while also tapping the shard by its left eye with a wing. It smirked at Raven as it swished its tail back and forth.

"Seems like disguising myself will just give me death by boredom. Maybe you have some information I could use?" Ximena yawned, enjoying the prospect of some fun happening now.

"What the fudge are you?" Raven asked. Ximena stuck its tongue out in response.

"Tsk tsk, how rude. I could ask the same of you, bone head. Now, do you know anything about the gateway that leads into another universe?"

"Nunya business." The response caused it to frown.

"I'm afraid you're wrong there. That universe is off limits to anyone who doesn't have permission from my boss." Then it smiled, "But at least you do seem to know something. At last I'm getting somewhere."

"You can tell your 'boss' he can go die in the pits of everlasting fire, for all I care." His words caused it to snicker.

"Boss can hear everything I hear and see everything I see. So no need for me to pass that on, boss already heard it. Boss doesn't care about you either, I'm here for information. One way or another, I'm going to get it. Why connect to that universe?"

"I don't care. Blah blah blah. Go ask Ekura, I hardly know anything about this."

"The one who stormed off after shouting at you? Well thanks, 'sweetheart'." Ximena pronounced the last word sarcastically as it sneered and walked past, heading in the direction Ekura went.

"Thanks for the help." Ximena added as it gave a slight wave of the hand. Raven shook his head and headed off. Ximena dropped onto all fours in order to dash after Ekure. It got back up to a standing position when reaching her. Flickering her restless tail, she frowned at the being before speaking.

"Are you Ekura?"

"Why?" The skeleton responded.

"I was wondering why someone would open a gateway to that universe, the one with the purple aura." Ekura shrugged in response to its words.

"Many monsters here don't leave, unless they are told to."

"Then, why is there a gateway? Was someone told to go to that universe? For I did see someone enter through that gateway." Ximena swished its tail, feeling ignored and the answer it seeked, being avoided.

“Probably Shadow. He's the only one who hasn't returned yet. Cry may leave a few times, but it's nothing big." Ekura crossed her arms, growing annoyed.

"Why would those two be entering that universe? What purpose would they serve by trespassing?" Ximena hissed, responding to her annoyance.

"Don't anger me. I will tell you what I want to tell you! Understood? If you want to know about it so badly, go ask them yourself!" The skeleton growled.

"I thought you were the authority here. If you're not, who is? Or is anyone here allowed to wander off to any universe they like? Simply just disregarding the dangers of entering someone else's property." Ximena lifted an eyebrow, feeling its fatigue grow heavier.

"I am the leader of the royal guards, not the leader of the whole AU!! We don't care about anyone's actions! It's their fault if they make bad choices!" She threatened the thing, "Get out of my way! I don't have time for this!" Ximena gave up and left Ekura behind, deciding to go and face the actual trespasser. It walked its way towards the gateway, yet somehow ended up near Raven again. Ximena had tried to get away without sleeping for too long, thus growing disoriented. It attempted to shape shift for its own safety, but failed with its lack of energy. Ximena remembered the coziness of Raven's neck and ended up passing out on him, its head nestled there.

Raven seemed confused. Now asleep, Ximena seemed to be losing form. Slowly, it turned into a black semi-liquid, clinging onto Raven's body for support for its now shapeless body. Its light red shard sunk into the mass, disappearing from view and entering safety.

"Dude that's gross..." Raven said mostly to himself as he struggled to tear it off. It was no good, Ximena was latched on tight and would be there til it had fully rested.

"Ugh..." He complained in clear disgust. It wasn't until several hours later that Ximena finally awoke. Realizing where it was, Ximena rushed off of him and reformed into its favored shape. It stared at Raven with shock at itself.

"I-I, um, got to go..." Ximena rushed out of the universe. Raven shook his head again and walked away.

#keep reading #super long #rp #rp summary #ximena #ximena's adventures #rulertaleau

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edmtranslations · 7 years

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LOUD No. 168 - Justice Interview [Documentation]

i h AT E

I wish I could say that this interview was manageable in most extents, but that’d be lying. LOUD 168 is one of my absolute favourite interviews, and maybe that played a part in it, but it was also an absolute pain to get right. Nothing in it was simple, not the interview, not the ad translation, not trying to pry apart illegible kanji... it was worth it, but believe me when I say that I was working for days on this, and that I needed all of that time to make this translation the best that I possibly could.

Well tell a lie. I was working on the translation a long time ago. I was just really lazy and didn’t get to it properly until recently, is all.

[ Article source: (x) ]

Unfortunately, that is because I am not that good at Japanese.

I can link the above image without pixelation because 1) the article is freely online and 2) the parts relevant to the translation I’m talking about are not in that image. I don’t distribute scans or document versions of the original language text on this blog as a rule, and try to blur out as much as I can/reveal as little as possible, but: chances are, a lot of you already have seen the LOUD 168 scans a long time ago. (I did not work with those precise scanned images when it came to cleanup + translation, because those aren’t big enough to create legible PDFs - but attribution is attribution.)

But yes. Anyway, a lot of disclaiming aside, I’m not that good at Japanese. A huge hurdle in any hanzi-based language that I know is the fact that if I can’t read it, I can’t translate it - my Japanese simply isn’t good enough to figure things out from context unless I sit there with dictionary in hand, going through each kanji bit by bit. It’s very exhausting, and unfortunately this interview was chock full of those moments. A big part of why it took me so long to write out this translation and edit it was because, when I was working with only the above scans (because I had the illusion that I could just skim-read and jot down my notes, or something), I could flat out not read half of it.

That’s not pixelation. I just zoomed in on the A Cross the Universe ad from the above post and tried to make out the kanji. I face this problem all the time. What the hell is it? I don’t know, just looking at that image. I’m not good enough to figure things like that out by looking at small or scribbled text. Until I had the idea to start looking in archives and old ad copies of this film - because it did not appear to be a magazine-specific ad, the one given in LOUD 168 - I had no idea what to make of most of that text, and thus gave up.

(I finally found the online version, linked up there. HMV ad. Of course. The kanji is 撮影.)

What I’m trying to say is that a lot of mental gymnastics needed to be done simply to make this translation legible and accurate. I don’t get the choice to walk away from a kanji I don’t know, and I rightly shouldn’t; even if I have to search by radicals and scour every bit of joyo kanji for a likely fit, I need to find it and gather the correct meaning through any means possible. I claim days of work on this interview, and I must clarify that I’m counting this by the hours - I really must have spent 48+ pure hours working on this interview, a good chunk of which was devoted to pure comprehension.

It wasn’t all doom and gloom, though. I was able to have some fun with the text while I was translating - they don’t actually mention A Cross the Universe by title all that much in this interview, at least not as much as I’ve mentioned it within square brackets in my translation. I attempted to make up to this by having a couple of relevant quotes reference back to the title.

The better translation is ‘... roaming the world’. I just couldn’t miss the opportunity, that was all.

Eheheheheheheh

That’s actually in the text, too. That’s not just me being silly. The nipple discourse is also word for word, pretty much. Why would I need to put in so much effort to be humourous when the masters of electro can do the job so much better eh

and of course it’s just the best feeling in the world when your translation length doesn’t fit

This happened a few times in this interview, though admittedly, not as often as I feared. The interview has such a weird layout that any mistake or under/over-writing would have affected the cross-shapes negatively later on.

A preview of the full title page. Originally the translation at the bottom was ‘Chosen By Our Top DJs’, but there was no way to make that fit.

Finding the right font for the surprisingly long ad was an art form on its own. I’m satisfied with the end product, but I do wish that it could have been a bit shorter - I don’t reckon there would have been a good way to do so, though, without compromising too much of the content. You make do.

I hope it doesn’t look so claustrophobic. Thankfully, my text was much more co-operative when it came to the actual interview. Forming the cross shape wasn’t as awful as I thought the task would be, having to resort to literally putting tape measures on my monitor aside.

And the preview of the full PDF!

That’s about all that needs writing down for the documentation. I’m honestly very exhausted after finishing this project, I think I’m going to go light for a while. There are some big projects I have in mind - Daft Punk Crossbeat 2001, Electro Book 2010, and so on - but for now, they can wait.

Next up is some good old Brodinski, I reckon. Thank you for reading this far, and for enjoying the translation! My readers make it all worthwhile. <3333

Disclaimer: The original text of this interview and associated material, given by Justice and printed in LOUD Magazine in 2008, is not copyrighted by this blog nor by the author of this post. Therefore, the original Japanese text will not be distributed here. The author claims ownership of the wording of this translation, which does not deny nor seek to possess the existence of other translations. This translation may be subject to changes in the future.

#interview translations #documentation #edmtranslations #loud magazine #a cross the universe #justice (band)#loud 168 #loud no. 168 #luminatranslations

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leslieohdamnjr · 7 years

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Back to Me (Jordan Fisher x Reader)

Word Count: 2,233

Request.Summary: This one wasn’t requested, a while ago I got the idea so I decided to write it, the story got away from me a bit towards the end. I suppose, a break up (ish… you’ll find out) leads to you reviewing your relationship in your brain.

Warnings: Cussing, implied smut, fighting/arguing.

A/N- This is another long author’s note. Buckle up. Okay so you might want to listen to this song before/after/while you read this. Otherwise the end bit just looks weird or if you’ve never seen Grease in any way shape or form. I know the song isn’t really a break up song but the lyrics fit so I used them, I am in no way claiming ownership of these lyrics written by Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey. Nor the lyrics I used from Helpless, written by Lin Manuel Miranda. Nor the other lyrics from Grease written by Jim Jacobs and Warren Casey. Also. If you’ll please notice, I shortened my intro! I decided I needed a shorter intro and longer fics. So yeah. Please enjoy.

“I’m sorry.” He said, tears were rushing down his face, mirroring you.

“Come on Jordan.” You shook your head. “You know that doesn’t change anything.”

“I-I know. I know.” He stuttered. “But (Y/N), please. Please don’t l-” You interrupted him by slamming the door behind you. “Leave.” He finished. You stood outside his apartment, you covered your mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back the gigantic sob that threatened to escape your mouth. Tears slid over your hand, you wanted it to stop hurting. You wanted him to follow you out. You wanted him to fight for you. You began to step away,

“What’s that playing on the radio, why do I start swaying to and fro?” You barely heard through the door. You froze where you were.

“I have never heard that song before, but if I don’t hear it anymore,” You knew he didn’t want you to hear. You knew he’d thought you were already gone. You came back to the door and set your hand on it, leaning your forehead against the oak. You had to hear his voice in person one more time.

“It’s still familiar to me, sends-” His voice broke and he had to pause before even trying to keep going. “A thrill right through me.” You shut your eyes tightly, you remembered the first time he’d sung to you.

“’Cause those chords remind me of the night that I first fell in love to…” You were sitting alone at a bar, bored, lonely, and sad enough to be getting yourself drunk.

“Those magic changes my heart arranges,” It was a guy about your own age, he had leaned against the counter next to you and randomly sang the words “Then you walked in and my heart went ‘boom’.” You gave him a confused look but he just kept going, “Tryin’ to catch your eye from the side of the bar, everybody’s drinkin’ and the radio’s top volume.” At that point you just laughed at his helpless attempt at hitting on you. And that’s when you said, “Shut up and let me buy you a drink.”

“A melody that’s never the same, a melody that’s calling your name.” Your mind was racing, everything that had happened in the past few minutes, everything that had happened within the past year. What had you done wrong?

“It begs you please, come back to me.” Now that line hit you hard. You’d never expected him to beg you for anything, he just wasn’t that type of guy. But no. He wasn’t begging you. He thought you were already gone. Singing was just his coping mechanism, it always had been.

“Please, return to me,” You heard him really crying then. Breaking down into a mess more painful than you’d ever seen him in. You listened as he slid down against the door to sit on the floor.

“Don’t go away again, oh make them play again.” You replayed the day in your head. If only you hadn’t said anything, or if you’d just said it in a different way. The words repeated over and over again in your head, ‘Why won’t you ever listen to me?’ That simple phrase. That simple question. It lead to so many words he’d thrown at you and so many you’d chucked back. You’d spat venom at each other for what felt like hours before you finally left. You just left. You didn’t try for an apology and you didn’t take his.

“The music I wanna hear is once again, you whisper in my ear, oh my darlin’.” He’d only ever call you his darling in a joking way. You two were never the type of couple to use ‘babe’, ‘sweetie’, ‘darling’, etc. Was that a sign? You wondered. Are couples supposed to use pet names? Convincing yourself that wasn’t the issue, your thoughts jumped to the first time you’d exchanged ‘I love you’s.

“I’ll be waiting by the radio, you’ll come back to me someday, I know.” He broke down again. He knew it wasn’t true. You were gone. He’d lost you. It was his fault, he’d let you go.

“Been so lonesome since our last goodbye, but I’m singin’ as I cry.” You were running together, his hand in yours, you’d left a party that had been attended by both your ex and Jordan’s. They spotted you two immediately, so you and Jordan hightailed it. He stopped you on the corner of 8th Avenue and West 46th Street and between labored breaths had told you, “I love you. I love you I love you I love you. I love you so much (Y/N).” So you laughed. Then of course you told him you loved him too. That was your relationship. He’d mark a milestone and you would laugh, it happened when he first flirted with you and it would have happened when you’d gotten married… if you were still together…

“While the bass is sounding, while the drums are pounding,” You thought again of what you’d said only minutes ago, ‘I can’t take it anymore. We’re done. We have to be.’ Where would you be now if you just hadn’t said that? The same question was suddenly brought to everything you’d said. You slid to the floor, careful not to make any noise so that he wouldn’t notice you were there. You just wanted to hear him singing one more time before you left, that was it.

“Beatings of my broken heart will rise the first place of the charts,” You turned your hand over where it was sitting on your knee. Every ounce of your being wanted it to be occupied with his. Every inch of your skin longed to be touched by him again. Every speck of your body just wanted to be held by him one more time.

“Oh, my heart arranges, oh, those magic changes.” You choked back another sob as you recalled your first date. It was at the same bar you’d met at. On the same night. Could it be called a date? You’d eaten together, got to know each other, all the things normally done on first dates.

“Those magic changes, my heart arranges,” You decided it was a date. He had asked you to eat with him, and since you hadn’t yet, you agreed to do so.

“A melody that’s never the same, a melody that’s calling your name.” The thought hit you again like a wave of freezing cold water drenching your clothes. Unforgiving and painful. You loved him. You loved him so much. You weren’t ready to stop loving him. You wanted to move in with him. You wanted to marry him. You wanted to become old and turn into what resembled a rotten pear with him. You wanted to laugh when he said “Look how far we made it. Look how far we came together.”.

“Please come back to me. Please return to me.” You found yourself singing the lyrics with him. You meant them. He meant them this time too. He grew silent when your familiar voice reached him through the door.

“I’ll be waiting by the radio, you’ll come back to me someday, I know.” You continued. You wanted him to come back to you. No. Forget that. You needed him to come back to you. Such a petty fight somehow got you this far. Was it even worth fighting for anymore?

“Been so lonesome since our last goodbye, but I’m singin’ as I cry.” Who were you kidding? Your love was more than worth fighting for. More than worth dying for even.

“While the bass is sounding, while the drums are pounding,” Your love had highs and lows, it had bliss and pain, but that was what was beautiful about it. That was what was beautiful about every love.

“Beatings of my broken heart will rise the first place of the charts,” But you’d lost him. It was over. You’d ended it. And you had left. This was a low you just couldn’t rise back up from.

“Oh, my heart arranges, oh, those magic changes.” You stood and finally began to walk away. Silence hanging in the hallway like that unforgiving pain deep in your gut, it felt like it was stuck there, like nothing could end end it.

“Ooh. Whoah. Oh oh ooh. Oh yeah.” Except for that. You whirled around to face Jordan again, the tears coming back.

“I love you. I love you so much. I’m not ready to try and stop loving you.” He admitted. His voice tight as he held back another slew of tears. You just stood there for a few seconds, both of you, in silence.

You ran towards him and threw your arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered in your ear, you felt his arms go around you again. It hadn’t been long, but god you missed that.

“No. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you so much.” You sputtered. You held him like you couldn’t let go, like if you did you would never get him back. “I’m so so sorry.”

“Can we just both agree that we love each other and we’re sorry for being assholes to one another?” He asked, stroking your hair.

“Yeah.” You laughed halfheartedly, loosening your hold on him just a little bit. He pressed his lips to your temple and let them stay there for a few seconds.

“Hopelessly devoted to you…” He sang quietly into your ear. You stepped back enough to look into his eyes, your arms dropping from his neck to his wait. You let a smile edge it’s way onto your features.

“You’re the one that I want! You are the one I want! Oh, oh, oh, honey!” You sang, bobbing your head as the best form of dancing you could muster. He smiled and cocked his head lovingly at you. You set your lips on his, your noses bumped together but you didn’t care. The thought of never being able to feel his lips on yours again was heart wrenching. And that was when you knew. The idea hit you like a train, and every detail followed, only justifying the motion.You stared at him for a few seconds before opening your mouth,

“Do you wanna get married?” You asked. His eyes widened and his eyebrows jumped toward his hairline. “Just now, sitting outside your door. I couldn’t bear the thought of not hearing you sing again. I couldn’t imagine never feeling you kiss me again. It was agonizing to envision a future when I never woke up in your arms again. I want to get married.” You told him decisively.

“Really?” He whispered.

“Yes really. What do you say?” You prompted.

“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.” He said quickly. You felt his touch leave you as he zipped through the open door of his apartment. He had left so fast you’d sworn you’d been hit with some gust of wind. Your face fell, that feeling in the base of your gut from earlier returned. And just as you had begun to consider what you would do when he never came back, he returned to your side. He held out a small velvet box toward you and opened it.

“Will you marry me?” He grinned.

“Oh god. This is ridiculous.” You sighed, taking the ring and putting it on yourself.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” He chuckled.

“Yes!” You yelled.

“Congratulations you little shits!” You heard a man’s voice emanate from the door next to you. You frowned in confusion.

“That’s my neighbor.” Jordan laughed.

“Yeah, quiet down. I don’t care to hear all the ‘Jordan! Jordan!’s” He responded, trying to mimic your voice. “Or the ‘Oh (Y/N)!’s” You and Jordan burst out laughing at his neighbor’s comments on your loud sex.

After you’d calmed down, you immediately glared at your now fiance.

“What?” He asked, leaning away a little bit. You struck his cheek with the side of your hand.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, bringing his hand to his cheek. “What was that for?”

“You scared the shit out of me, you asshole!” You scolded, crossing your arms. “I asked you to marry me and you left!”

“Oh.” He laughed, clearly not very phased by your violent actions. “You still love me though.” He smiled. That charming grin was too much to pass up and you shook your head, rolling your eyes as a half smile appeared on your lips.

“I suppose you’re not bad.” You sighed teasingly. He tipped your chin up with a touch of his finger and kissed you.

“Not bad?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Not bad.” You repeated with a smirk.

“I think I need to prove you wrong.” He said.

“You can try.” You answered, teasing him further. You giggled as he took your hand and dragged you back into his apartment.

“I love you so much.” You panted between passionate kisses.

“I love you more.” He challenged, bringing his lips to your neck.

“No, I love you more.” You stood your ground, tugging on the hem of his shirt as a prompt for him to let you remove it. He stepped back a bit and let you drag the shirt off of his torso. “No. Scratch that.” You breathed.

“I love you most.” You both murmured at the same time.

#jordan fisher x reader #hamilton imagine #hamilton imagines #hamilton x reader #'helpless' attempt at flirting?#haha get it #helpless #pun very intended #sucky ass title #sucky ass summary #not to brag #but...#amazing ass writing #okay #i'm done with the tags now #haha rebellion.

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