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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years

Note

NSFW where a PI is investigating the titans and catches dick and reader having an argument which turns into rough passionate sex???

FIRST OF ALL I’M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. To compensate, I made it longer than I expected, almost as long as my longest one yet! I think I took some liberties with the ask, but I thought it would be interesting to make it this way?? THOUGHTS? It turned a bit mushy towards the end, sorry if you want something rougher. BUT ANYWAYS, CUE IN THE FIC.

SUMMARY: Reader is a “leader” and main representant of the Titans; she goes by the name Silver Blaze, and a PI, Randall, has been given the task of investigating her and Nightwing – possibly because they are the major representants of the group, but there might be ulterior motives within the investigation.

WORD COUNT: 4147

TW: Swearing and smut. There’s like a thousand something words of introduction and the rest is pure lemoney stuff, yep. I didn’t include any age for Randall, but it is understood everyone is legal of age and that he is a bit of a voyeur/creep. It is meant to be that way, it’s no accident. I hope it works???

I spy with my little eye — Dick Grayson x Reader

They had appeared out of nowhere, really. It was rumored that a similar place had happened before, in the times of Dr. Silas Stone, but with a few distinctions; the Titans tower was a secret, and it could be only speculated upon its exterior. The crime wave had exponentially lessened down since its appearance, but since it had been caught on camera, secrecy and conspiracy theories had arisen. It did count apparently with the permission of the city council; if there was a deal or not, no one knew anything about… Yet.

PI Randall had been contacted anonymously; the money was incentive enough to make a man in California sweat, but the persons he had to look closer upon were his main drive. He had been investigating them for as long as they made their first appearance, and to say they had piqued his interest was to say the least. Fortunately (maybe not so much at nights, when the loneliness ate him alive and he starved for human contact), he lived alone, and thus only himself knew of his own madness and obsession towards the couple, Nightwing and Silver Blaze.

The first was quite well-known, and some had been speculated, theories rounded the internet, on how he had been Batman’s disciple at some point and how he was to be the next in line; personally, Randall couldn’t believe it. Had it been that way, he would have stayed closer to Gotham, but he had gone all the way to San Francisco-what? Running away from something? Distancing himself from the infamous city, taking a paid leave? Randall quite knew that discovering his identity was a lost cause, as many journalists and tabloids were still obsessed with it. They were always too careful and secretive; they had been trained to be like that probably all of their lives. And if Nightwing was anything like Batman, which Randall had pondered over a lot of nights, there was no solid case that could ever be created on him.

Silver Blaze on the other hand was a mystery. No one knew where she came from, where she had first appeared in or if she went with another name somewhere else. Rumors and stories had been built upon her first declarations on the San Francisco Chronicle (they were always the first to have her interviews, statements and photographs; surely that meant either she was in there working herself or she had an insider working for their publicity – it was always convenient to have the public on their side). People claimed to have heard of her on the west; others claimed to have first seen her in the North, the Canadian frontier, and that she had been moving towards the coast on unclear motives punishing anyone she had encounter – maybe she was heading to Gotham? But then why the detour, why had she been staying so long and as, apparently, a representant of the Titans? From what people knew, the images and videos taken, she did not possess any kind of powers other than her own body and the flashing of her own cape. That was her ability, blinding anyone who came close, distracting them and gaining over advantage towards their enemies. Silver Blaze had been the name the city had given to her: she always appeared after a blinding light, and in her ebony costume, the most striking thing was said cape and her mask, contrasting beautifully with her slightly darker skin.

To say Randall had a bit of a crush on her was an understatement. She was in fit, and the armor did not hide a thing; skin-tight and glamorous with her gloves, her movements – she moved like Catwoman in a sense (was she a disciple? The inherent dark sexiness a common trait upon master and disciple?) but had a more definitive presence. Before it had been Nightwing the one making the announcements, statements – but maybe it was her sweet voice, her rosy lips, labored breath whenever she talked after a battle or after an incident that calmed somehow the citizens of California, that eventually came to love her. So what she hiding?, Randall wondered, night after night starting at the same pictures, side by side, of both leaders of the Titans side by side fighting. Who could want to unveil anything from the golden vigilantes of the city, seeing as they carried such an untarnished reputation? Randall couldn’t help but think that they were hiding something darker in plain sight. Something obscure, tarnished and possibly perverted. No one could be that perfect.

…

“For fuck’s sake, Night, I had it! I fucking had it and you stole it from me!”

“Can you please stop shouting? They are going to hear us, S.”

“God, stop it with that nickname! It’s not cute and it’s definitively not my name!”

It is pure coincidence, months of stalking them, following them and testing a theory. He shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be hearing them out that perfectly, clearly, at mere meters from them. Randall was supposed to be at home, fuming again over losing them; instead he has both of them right in front of him, slightly battered and definitively arguing. She doesn’t possess the sweet voice that she normally uses in interviews (he knew it! No one can be that naturally seductive, that sweet without actually trying), but Nightwing appears to be as collected as ever… Even when he can hint a sense of annoyance over the discussion. Maybe they’ve been at it more than once? It is definitively something that people haven’t cached up. Hell, he didn’t know a thing, and he’s been following them for years.

“I had him, but you just had to go and disappear, leaving my flank completely unprotected, Night! That’s such a Dick movement!” Dick? He is confused. Did she mean-

“Silver, don’t use names”. His voice is severe. He sounds like he is on alert. Maybe he has heard him breathing more than normal? Randall’s eyes are glued on her chest, heaving up quickly, up and down – probably still with adrenaline from the battle they’ve just ended. His theory had been that every time they had ended a battle, generally between the two of them or more, it really depends on the intensity of the fight, they disappeared somewhere else, running from the scene like thieves: last time he had tried west and he had felt stupid for thinking it could work. Now he had followed east and here they were, arguing while he was hiding near a bush with a small clearance.

“… I was just saying you are a real dick, Night”. She says, following his tone; like in sync, she doesn’t question, but rather adopts the same measure until she realizes. “No! You are no getting out of this, Nightwing! This is the third time you leave me unprepared to protect myself against four guys! I cannot believe you, seriously, I-“

“Oh please, we all know you could have blinded them and-“

“To blind them I need both of my hands, dumbass! I barely have recovered from that night on-“

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah.”

There’s concern and care in the next movements, in the last words; he gets closer to her, carefully grabbing her by her elbow, and pulling her closer. It is strange to see how easily she lets him, seeing as angry as she was; she just clicks her tongue, which makes him laugh for some reason. She mutters something under his breath, and Randall can quite only speculate on his next words, seeing as he just vocalizes them: “-amian”. ¿Amian? He has no idea on what he is trying or has said, but he definitively notes it down on his mental pad: and he has to update some things.

He definitively didn’t expect for them to be so close, seeing as they have never appeared together in any interview or photograph; they had similar combat styles, and that’s why he imagined they wouldn’t share a team withing the combats, but from her complaints before, he can confirm that they do, and that she seems a bit pissed off at him for abandoning her. Again. Is it some tense rivalry that they have between them? Some brotherly bickering? Maybe they were past lovers? Nightwing has always occupied the most eligible bachelor of all Gotham, but since he had moved to California things hadn’t been the same. He hasn’t any more of presence than Silver Blaze has; maybe they have learnt to share a-? Oh.

The realization, in the midst of the silence, it’s so severe that he forgets to breathe for a second. He looks at both figures, against the light of the moon, cut-out like perfect paper figures straight out of any Vogue magazine. But her stare is too humane when they make eye contact with his face; the domino mask actually prevents him from reading expressions, but he knows that one well from his own past. There is something else, maybe-maybe they are, or they have been-

They kiss.

He pulls her closer, still by the elbow, and her arms quickly go under his arms, to his back. His hands are on her waist, squeezing tight, as he makes all of her his in the kiss. There is an undeniable possessive nature in his embrace, and as he takes off her cape, with an ease that makes Randall think they have done this before – probably many many times after a battle. Is this it? Do they have sex whenever they finish, as hurt as they are or tired? Can’t they wait? His hands expertly manage to find the zipper at the top of her neck, slowly discovering her naked neck, back, until her waist.

“I’m still angry, you know”

“I can tell. And you think I’m not, having you insinuate that I’m a narcissistic traitor who would leave you alone midst of the battle if it was not important? You, of all people?”. There is something similar to hurt in his voice. He cares? “There’s only one narcissistic egomaniac in our family, and I know you know who is”.

They are always careful; they don’t give out names, and Randall can’t figure out yet who is. Maybe a new Robin? But her eyes are more focused on her naked figure, her soft skin, slightly tainted, apparently, with some scars and red areas (bruised from battle, sex? Who knows): she is truly beautiful.

“You mean the hot brooding one?”. There’s almost a teasing tone in her voice. He wonders if she’s like that in bed, the bratty adventurous type. The cock-teasing slut that opens her legs just to tempt, just so that she can after-

“You did not call J-“

“I just did, Golden Boy”.

There’s movement. She falls to the grass, the small area they have secluded themselves in, with a bank not too far, and a small touristic viewpoint not too far from the city, overlooking most of it, if not all. There’s giggling, clothes rummaging and limbs moving until they give up. Someone gives up. He’s on top, half naked but mask still on: Randall doesn’t know if it was him or her that took her mask off, but he can finally see her shining eyes, daringly staring back at Nightwing’s. Her legs are around his waist.

“What, too tired to fight me?”

“Maybe I just don’t fear the punishment Daddy will give me. He’s always too soft”. And that goes straight to his dick. Is she the type to use that names on bed, secretly? Yes, he has pictured that. Naughty, daring, always too intelligent for her own good – sweet and caring, but with a small and horny devil inside. Always too wet at the most inappropriate times, like when he is supposed to be working. That’s always his go-to fantasy.

“Maybe Daddy thought someone was starting to behave good. Too bad you have fucked it all up, kitten. Thought you would get fucked today”.

There’s a whimper, more rummaging, and in a heartbeat she’s naked on the grass. Her cheek is rubbing the leaves, and he is completely dominating her from the back of her neck, putting enough weight just so that she can’t move. Her nipples are hard but hidden in the darkness; he wished he could come closer, lick them up, suck on them. They are perfect, and he just realizes that she wasn’t wearing any kind of underwear under.

“No bra again? Hoping someone would notice?”

“Yes, maybe I was hoping some fucking journalist would fuck me up already. It was about time I lived my own Kent fantasy, right?”

There’s a smack that resonates, and she moves slightly ahead; there’s a whimper, and she bites her mouth as soon as she knows. All on her fours is quite apparent what’s going to happen, or at least that’s what Randall imagines.

“You want to talk about fantasies? What’s yours, baby? Arsenal, Hawk and Tempest all for you, using you? Maybe with me, ordering you around, baby? Oh, fuck, you got wet. Shit, is that from the talking or was something from before?”

“Night, shut up”.

There’s a chuckle and, out of every God that is and is not alive pitying on him, he gets to see his glistening fingers, covered in her own lubrication. He separates himself enough so that he can take off the most important of the suit, letting Randall see her thighs, with wetness going down on them. She wiggles, moves her legs closer just so that she can take off the pressure, the edge – and he knows the edge too well, since he’s been at it too much time. He thinks that he will snap if Nightwing doesn’t touch her, seeing as needy as she seems, desperate for him.

“My voice is all you are having tonight, brat. You just have to rile me up every time, don’t you? It’s like you don’t want to get fucked…”. His fingers move again, tracing a trail down her breast until her core, where she trembles and moans, slightly. “… Here”.

His fingers dig in, and her arms almost give out. Her hips move, just like a dog in heat; and Randall figure she must be one. Too seductive, too sexy, too good for only Nightwing to have. He wished he could feel her nipples just like he is doing, left hand massaging her and taking her, pushing her back into his right hand, inside her and apparently going over a very nice zone.

“God, fuck, Night!”

“What? You don’t want my fingers?”

“No! Nono, I didn’t-Oh, fuck. Night.” It’s a sigh, like he knows to perfectly touch her. Have they done this a lot? Have they been fucking all the time they have been at San Francisco and other places? Oh. Is she the reason why he is not outing himself more, like he did in Gotham, with his playboy reputation behind at times? “Night, no. That’s too good. Night please.”. She lifts up her pretty head, letting the moon bathe her, and she is glorious in all her nakedness, her sensuality as she opens her small mouth and moves her hips against him, in an attempt to get more friction, Randall thinks.

“You don’t like good, now, baby?”. She melts every time he calls her that. Her back relaxes a bit, she sighs and a shiver covers her up. “And I thought I would never hear you complain about being good after-“

“Shut up… Night! Oh… Fuck, fuck, there. Ah, Night”. It comes in labored breaths (just like the interviews); she can’t concentrate in her words and thus the stops. She is trying but she is absolutely losing. “Please, give me something. Please, I know you want it too. It is literally poking me to death”.

He laughs and for the first time he palms himself. Randall can admit he is gifted (more than himself, it seems to be). His member is hard and longish, rather than being too big. When he first rubs himself against her, her hands move upwards, trying to grab onto something. Is she sensitive? Her back is trembling, her legs are shivering. Is it too cold? Like fearing that, Nightwing covers her back, presses himself against her.

“How bad do you want it?”

“Night, I’m not going to beg.”

Proud. Yes, he knew she would be like that. Like a princess, in all senses. Maybe except perverseness. She is the real surprise of the night and he couldn’t be any more turned on.

“No? Then I guess this pussy is going to be empty. And there’s no sense in getting naked, so start dressing up and-“

“No! No, fuck no!”. She stops him by his arm, lowers him down so he can see her face. “Please! Night, I-“. Her mouth opens. Then closes. She smirks. “I’m going to shout your name if you don’t fuck me. Your real name, D-“

“You are such a slut.”

It appears she gets off on those things. She laughs, but before she can continue, Nightwing completely turns her around. His hand goes to her neck, almost in an aggressive way that scares Randall out of his hiding place: he is really attempting to cut her oxygen off, and she is letting herself be controlled. She can hear her gasping for air, arms struggling against his naked body, but her legs grasp at his waist harder, pushing both cores together and… She is rubbing herself on him. Does that actually get her? Shit.

“You just want to be manhandled and have all of my attention. The fact that I have to go and help others just sets you off. I know you still want me to kiss you in front of all those photographers and make it official, you are so-“

“Demanding? Insufferable?”

“Adorable. I just wished you could be this open with the rest.”

“We have to take things slow, Dick. This can affect so much more than just us.”

“I know, (Y/N). I-“

They kiss, like they want to erase everything up. Randall doesn’t know how to gulp everything down: they love each other? Her eyes are full of pure devotion as she continues to rub them off, head hanging almost as she tries to hang it on the grass. Almost because Nightwing (Dick?) grabs her by her waist, slightly elevating her and making her sit on his lap. His cock is rubbing her folds, and there’s almost a desperation in their movements which indicates both are fully prepared. He is at his fucking limit as well; it almost hurts how it’s pressing down on the floor, giving some relief at the same time whenever he moves (just slightly so, he doesn’t want to get caught… Investigating. Yes. Not spying. Spying is dirty. He has been contracted). Is it some type of edging, pursuing out pleasure and trying to make the most out of their desperation? He just wished he would be fucking her brains out, but maybe that’s why he is the one doing her, and not him.

“I need you. Please, Night, I won’t-won’t complain, won’t be bad, I-“

“Hush. Let me give it to you.”

He enters her, and her nails go deep into his skin, moaning out as he moves inside and stops, once he is fully into her, it appears. It takes him some time, some moaning on her side and some furious nails on his back.

“Always so tight. Are you-?”

“Yes, just fuck me, make me loose”. She gasps, both of his arms moving to the sides of her head. It appears things are about to get serious. “Fuck me like you know, like-FUCK!”

He sets down a pace. Her hips on his lap gives him leverage enough to target a special zone inside her body, and he takes on a relentless pace as he penetrates her. There’s dirty sounds of sex and skin clashing together – there’s no problem in getting inside her, apparently, and he notices himself harden even more. Her tits bounce against his chest, just slightly, and he can see her nipples hardened, herself grabbing them and pinching them while he aims at that special area that has her legs desperately tied to him like a vice. Her expression is that out of pure bliss, pain almost as she is bordering the climax, he imagines. She moans out his name, desperately, nails leaving furious marks behind on the bare skin of Nightwing’s back, making him hiss sometimes; others thrust harder, give it all to her.

“I can’t, I can’t, I’m going to-“

“Do it, do it, do it”. He insists, like a prayer; and he wonders, how could she resist if pleaded like that? There’s shouts, moans that get stuck in her throat almost as he lunges himself in, until she stops him, definitively, kissing him and moaning, legs out and frozen in time, in an almost painful position before they relax.

She has cummed. She is completely laxed on the grass, eyes almost closed, and they are whispering each other sweet nothings, he believes. He is kissing her slowly, tenderly, as he makes the slow attempt of fucking her more, but without pressuring her to move. She is hypersensitive, he can tell, by the way she shivers, her legs try and stop him from moving. But there is no real intent, as he can imagine the pleasure she is feeling, the intense feeling of happiness she is surrounded by since it’s all clear in her pleasured out face.

“Slowly, Dick, please. You are too big”.

He has to start touching himself. It’s too much, and this is a fantasy he is going to replay a lot of times in the future. Even when tired, hypersensitive, she wants him to cum, use her. She is definitively dirty talking him, praising him:

“You do it so good, Dick, I will probably-“

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She confirms, like it’s a secret code, something he was supposed to know. But he doesn’t. “Oh, fuck, not there. I’m going to go again too quick, otherwise”.

He sets out another pace, but he is careful to no make her cum again, apparently; she looks tired, eyes closed and limp body on the grass, moaning still and with her legs more open this time, just so that he can thrust inside.

“I’m close. So close. You are so good inside, so hot, so-“

“Inside. Please, please. I��m safe. I want you in.”

The way he talks, grunts, and her needy tone makes him know that this will be the last time. He masturbates faster, quietly, but breathing a bit too quickly; he has the start of a lot of his wet dreams in front of him. He has to treasure the experience.

“(Y/N)!”. He exclaims, shouts, his hands gripping harder onto her skin as she bites her own mouth. Maybe they fear they are too loud, which they are.

(Y/N)!, he thinks to himself, on the brink too of cumming with him.

“Fuck, can’t stop!”. Who would? There’s a sweet release when he cums looking at her hardened nipples, her perfect body against the grass and her beautiful eyes. “Adore you.”

They embrace each other and she trembles moans out and completely destroys the grass around her. It is intense, and it is not until Nightwing slowly retires himself that he can see her fluids, squirting out of her core, still making her shiver. Is she still cumming? That’s so-

He cums as well. In silence, biting his hand and completely blissed out. The next moments feel too intimate, and he has to dress himself up and clean as quietly as possible. He has listened enough. There’s nothing more he needs at the moment, he couldn’t leave happier.

…

“For all it’s worth, I’m sorry”. He sounds sincere. She looks at him directly, still shivering, slightly cold and feeling gross from sweat, blood and sex. “I don’t meant to abandon you. I just know that you are that good”.

They chuckle, and she rolls her eyes, but it’s all good. She knows. It’s not meant to make her feel alone, or to leave her to her own luck.

“I know. I’m sorry I get so upset over it. I just wish you would say something.”

“I will, I promise. I’m not going to do that to you again, okay?”. Her hand goes to her cheek, caressing and kissing her slowly in the nose. It makes her smile.

She kisses the interior of his wrist, tenderly, before looking at his eyes.

“I think I want to go to the Tower and get changed. Can we skip statements today?”. There are puppy eyes involved, to which she knows he won’t say no. Not if its her, anyways.

“They will understand, sure. Let’s get dressed, I want some cuddles”

“Can I be the big spoon?”.

“Sure. Anything for you, (Y/N).”

#dick grayson #nightwing #dc #dcu fanfic #dcu x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader #reader insert #reader #titans x reader #request

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elaphaemourra · 3 years

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🖊 + Any of them ~

Hooooo this is a fckn, You Have Given Me Too Much Power. I have So Many Words.

Gonna be real tho, this is gonna be a Big Thing about Mita bc I have a fckn AU where he's the Outlander and I have some FEELINGS ABOUT THIS. Bc he's part of my main continuity as an adjacent player to the IA and BH storylines, sharing agent crew/other random shit with Phaeyla for the IA stuff (he got Vector and Scorpio, Phae got the rest) and serving as Another sidequest generator for Jeni in the BH line (I give Jeni so many nerds to keep track of whoops).

(THIS IS ALREADY LONG, AND I'M ABOUT 8 PARAGRAPHS IN, SO IT'S GETTING A READ MORE WHILE I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT IT)

Uh, TL;DR, Mita is handling being Commander about This Well:

OK SO in NORMAL canon he goes with Lana and Koth to go fetch the Outlander (who I decided is actually one of Zal's apprentices, a Voss named Thera-nal, until Zal fckn goes 'no fuck this. I have ghost experience. Gimme the emperor u don't have to deal with this urself' and steals Valk from her bc Good Inquisidad Takes On The Oof Ghost For His Kid) and then gets fckn Ditched on Zakuul. Like straight up that whole 'get the outlander on the ship, Vaylin is 3 meters away FUCK FUCK FUCK' thing, he pushes Thera-nal on and then the ship takes off. Without him. And he does a dive off the platform bc he's like 'nah' @ Vaylin and knows he can survive a Really Long Fall. It's all very dramatic, very ciffhangery. I'm still writing the next chapter beyond that in Left Behind.

He ends up fckn, roughing it on Zakuul, gets himself a sort-of job posing as an assassination droid in a gladiator ring (bc i'm a NERD for gladiator shit), grows up, gains some confidence. Knife baby gets a grow up and a glow up. It's awesome.

BUT. BUT I HAVE AN AU WHERE HE'S THE OUTLANDER. AND IT'S AN EXCELLENT EXAMPLE OF WHY HE SHOULD NEVER BE IN CHARGE OF ANYTHING EVER.

He and Lana don't like each other. It's a Thing. They can put their differences aside for the sake of Professionalism or when they give each other the 'r u seeing this shit' Look when someone else is being Stupid in both their opinions, but they don't like each other (this is true in the normal canon as well, they're very antagonistic to each other, it's a little silly how petty it is but it's Fun). Despite this, and their tendencies to piss each other off on purpose, Mita thinks she's the most tolerable of the initial Pile of People. The Conflict between Koth and Senya was A Lot for him to handle, and he doesn't do Leadership Positions very well. About an hour after they picked Senya up, he was already out of patience.

The constant arguing got to him SO FAST, it ran him out of patience and Fucks so quickly, he started getting real snippy. By the time they got to asylum he was throwing around threats to people who couldn't keep their Shit to themselves. He TRIED to do good things, to pull together enough patience and good will to be Benevolent in his actions, but as his patience fell apart, so did basically everything else good. Mita getting Tora was a whole Thing where he did the Nice Thing by making her apologize to Vik and when she talked back he turned around and drew a knife on her, told her to keep her mouth shut if she was going to complain because he WOULD kill her, and he DIDN'T need an engineer/mechanic THAT much. That he'd use her corpse as payment for the next batch of cargo, which, MITA. WHAT THE FUCK, MAN.

He started falling into MUCH older patterns of thinking, refusing to take any action that was Any risk to himself. It's a thought process he had before he got shoved full of implants, before he realized that he could be a Better Person and started being a rebellious little shit in Intelligence and taking risks that helped Other People instead of just being single-mindedly focused on his own self-preservation.

He's falling back into it, which is BRUTAL because he's making more and more devastating choices, and where he saved people by shutting down that reactor on the First blip of Zakuul, before he ran out of Patience and Fear, and he did Good Lightsided Things to Help People, he just went off with Kaliyo to blow the absolute shit out of that whole thing, and where he used to be like 'shit, we need to make things Better', now he's started talking about Vengeance. Which uh. Does me a Concern about Knife Baby.

Basically none of the advisors actually LIKE him. At best, Senya and him have a solid enough mutual understanding of Work Vs Free Time between them, but she's also Pissed that he keeps taking the Big Death Options and fucking over her citizens. Theron's basically constantly giving him the Pensive Side-Eye because of how consistently Freaky Mita has become. Their first interaction was Prickly at best, and Mita hasn't gained any more patience.

Ofc, Mita and Lana just Don't get along, but they at least vibe on the level of 'i am So Done with everyone here' and she's pulled him aside more than once to get him to cool off a little. Though mostly she pawned him off on HK, when the droid was still aroujd, so she's at least Done Something for his mental state, and he liked that droid enough for talking with him being Relaxing. Kind of.

He's a volatile Commander who Can and Will pull people who irritate him aside to threaten them with mortal or bodily harm, or yeet a datapad at the wall for that Big Sound, or just punch a wall while he's got gauntlets on, to get everyone to Shut Up and Pay Attention so he can yell at them for not keeping their Interpersonal Shit out of the war room and out of his presence. He's basically single-handedly driving the Alliance into the ground, driving it forwards through pure force of will and by making people scared enough to work together without Complaining, hoping that Arcann will give before he or the Alliance do.

He's refused every offer by Valkorion for Everything, and right now that's his saving grace.

Koth bounced, furious with Mita and Kaliyo's 'let's blow this bitch up' thing, and Mita's little circle of people he Actually Likes has uh, maybe Not the greatest influences among them. His inner circle is Kaliyo, Scorpio, Tora (which surprised me, but they are Remarkably chill with each other for people whose introduction was Humiliation and Death Threats, like, a 'they'd vibe and drink in a dark corner together' sort of deal), and Even More Surprising, Aric Jorgan.

Completely separate from the Alliance Advisory Squad, Jorgan seems to be REALLY good for Mita. He's just kinda, it's Working Out. Mita's doing Nicer Shit when Jorgan's around. I'm not sure if it's just, the lack of Shit-Stirrers, the comfort and familiarity of military company, Jorgan's 'ur not the boss of me' thing back in the swamps on Zakuul, or what. But Mita's doing Good Shit when that rad cat man's around. Hell, it might be that he just doesn't want to disappoint his new friend. But like, they're actually a STELLAR team friendship-wise. Mita's actually Relaxed enough to get shit done efficiently, do LIGHTSIDED SHIT, and he basically ONLY brings Jorgan when he goes raiding star fortresses. Kaliyo and Scorpio are higher up on Mita's 'would send out alone' list, but only because he worked with Kaliyo when he and Phaeyla got assigned to each other, and Scorpio was HIS team member.

Even with that though, Mita's reputation among Alliance personnel isn't a Kind one. He's terrifying, volatile and quick to snap at anyone and everyone who gets on his nerves. People avoid him in the halls unless they Absolutely Need Him, and there's ABSOLUTELY a network of people you can ask as a 'where's the Commander now' if you really need to spend the day Avoiding Him.

He's also leaned Heavily into the aesthetic of Big Scary. Dressed like a Sith all in black and white and grey (and a Republic insignia on his belt just for the added cognitive dissonance that gives him), with a Delightfully Menacing Helmet that makes him nigh unreadable. The voice modulation is something he Knows how to use to make himself more intimidating, and he knows how to hold himself to make Pointed Silence into something that can cause fear. He really leaned into that 'scaring people into working for you' thing, which isn't sustainable, and he KNOWS it isn't, but he's hoping to get shit done fast enough that it won't MATTER how unsustainable that type of leadership is.

He's Stressed and Tired and Angry, and he's going down a deep dark hole. He needs to be fckn, sat down and Confronted about where he's going because he MADE that choice to be better, on BALMORRA. It cost him his free will, his autonomy, and his identity. He was PHYSICALLY unable to say his own name without his upper body motor function locking up, for a long time, because it was part of the programming of his implants. He gave Everything up to be Better, and it took so much to get those things back, and now he's squandering it all by falling back into who he used to be.

He needs some Time to Chill The Fuck Out, an Intervention for what he's doing with himself, and a goddam nap.

Knife Baby is Stressed Out. He's the Team Medic. He was never designed to be In Charge, and it took its toll Very Quickly, and it's devolved into something Brutal and Unsustainable. Which is why this is an AU, and why my Canon Commander for the timeline is Zal.

Zal's a good leader, good under pressure, patient and fair almost to a fault, and a good person.

Mita can't handle the strain, and he KNOWS it. But he's doing it anyways, and will drag the people around him down with him if it means he'll win in the end. And in the mean time, he's frustrated, volatile, and Not Very Fun To Be Around.

#ela's asks #ela babbles #mita #outlander mita #swtor #swtor kotfe #Mita Lore #Outlander Mita Lore #ela does an ask meme #WELCOME TO THIS #AN UNHOLY AMOUNT OF PARAGRAPHS #you unleashed the fuckin kraken my friend #g o o d l u c k

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mocha-sim · 4 years

Text

For a while now I’ve wanted to write out a post concerning where I stand on the whole issue with YanSim and its developer (in short: neutral, leaning heavily towards the negative side, but I like the potential of the story and characters). There are a lot of problems and I really want to throw in my two cents

This might not be necessary, but I need to get it off my chest, and hopefully make some people think about other points of view

Warning: long post ahead

1. Six years and still in development

I can really see both sides here

On one hand, six full years without even one rival - the single most important part of the game - and a game still full of placeholder assets, and terrible code on top of that, is pathetic

On the other hand, Yandev is working with only a small team of volunteers and himself, who (no matter what he claims) knows very little about game development (from what i’ve seen, he’s made one before, but it looks like a very small-scale and basic fighting game, unlike YanSim which is much more large-scale and has a lot of features)

Professional game teams do have full, high-quality games made in less than six years, but that time is also a product of game company employees being extremely overworked. Lately I’ve seen a lot more people talking about this issue, which is good, but isn’t it hypocritical to not also apply that logic to Yandev?

Again, though, I’m not sure how much time he spends actually working on the game - to me, it seems like he spends a lot of time on discord, reddit, etc. even if he does only stream for a few hours every night. Maybe the “harassment” that’s “slowing down game development” wouldn’t be such an issue if he didn’t spend so much time online interacting with these people?

2. The writing and characters

I’m not a huge fan of how the game’s story is handled, either

I don’t think it’s 100% fair to cast a final judgement with the game the way it is now - Osana not being out is in no way a good thing, but it also means that there hasn’t really been any opportunity for story or character development yet, especially for the rivals. That being said:

I feel like there’s a lot of wasted potential with characters’ individual stories and with the game’s story as a whole, like the “Aishi curse” - I just can’t think of many good stories with a main character who’s basically an empty husk. If Ayano had emotions from the beginning, and actually had to struggle with them, she could be a much more interesting character. There doesn’t even need to be a magical curse for it to run in the family - the way children are raised has a serious impact on the person they grow into. If Ayano is raised by a crazy, abusive stalker of a mother, she may well turn into the same thing.

Taro, too - he has so many contradicting character traits. He yells at Ayano for “scaring him” when she’s carrying a box cutter or laughing, but has the courage to run right up to a murderer and take off their mask?? He doesn’t care about reputations for Osoro or Oka, but won’t love Ayano if her reputation drops too low?? We’re told that he’s “friendly and respectful”, but we’re never shown that part of his personality. On top of that, we’re not really given a reason to like or pursue him as the goal of the game - when he’s not interacting with Girl of the Week, he doesn’t really do anything except sit by the fountain and read. I feel as though Taro should have a routine that involves interacting with other characters and gives us more of a feel for the personality we’re told he’s supposed to have

Raibaru as a whole makes no sense and feels like a satellite character to Osana. In Osana’s shoes, I would want to have a word with her about personal space. There’s not a lot to say about her aside from that, because... she doesn’t really do anything except follow Osana around all day and shut down the player’s attempts to kill her. She feels more like a soulless obstacle than a character

I think there should be more true pacifist options than just matchmaking - even the befriending elimination route will, in Yandev’s own words, involve someone getting hurt. If we’re supposed to have a choice on whether or not to hurt and kill people, there should be more variety in our options

3. The game’s code sucks/it’s poorly-optimized

Yeah.

I don’t know much about coding but the amount of awkward stretching/bending limbs on corpses, clipping through walls, low fps, etc. makes this obvious. It was definitely a bad move on Yandev’s part to start a project like this without at least taking a coding/game development class or something

I think the best course of action for Yandev would be to get a professional programmer on board after Osana is released and spend a few months fixing the game’s code before he starts work on the next rival

4. The character models are just stolen Unity models

They are just unity models, but not “stolen” at all - YanDev paid for them.

That being said, they’re sort of ugly and inexpressive, and personally i’m hoping they get replaced soon

5. The characters are all minors

They’re not. It’s in flashing red letters on the screen when you open the game. I can’t help but feel like the reason people keep insisting that the characters are minors is so that they can feel like heroes for defending them or something

It doesn’t make a lot of logical sense, but there’s still plenty of time for this to be fixed. I think it was recently confirmed that Akademi is called an “academy” now and won’t be referred to as a high school again

Imo YanDev should just change it to a post-secondary school, since that’s probably the most seamless way for all the characters to be adults

One last thing I want to say on this is that, when it gets brought up, I often see people use the excuse “the age of consent in Japan is 13″. 1: it isn’t - the Japanese government lets each prefecture decide its own age of consent, but 13 is the minimum. As far as I know, no prefecture has set it below 16. 2: even if 13 was the age of consent, that doesn’t mean we should accept and defend it as “part of a different culture”. It’s still pedophilia. 3: Japanese people actively protest against things like this

6. The uniforms are middle-school uniforms/don’t look like they belong in a prestigious school

Yeah

However there are multiple uniform options, and it looks like the default uniforms will be completely changed in the final game

7. Panty shots

YanSim is an 18+ game, but there is such a thing as too far

I’ve seen people who tolerate it, but I haven’t seen a single person who actively likes the panty shots and would complain if they were removed. Imo the part that makes this bad is the fact that we, the player, actively have to point our camera up a girl’s skirt and take a photo of her underwear with it being in full view; the whole way this works makes it obvious that the feature was put in there for titillation more than anything else, and it just feels uncomfortable. If it were more like Uekiya’s key-stealing minigame where all we have to do is push a few buttons, the whole gross/uncomfortable aspect could be taken away and a lot of people would probably be fine with it

It would also be better to replace it with an expanded version of the phone-stealing feature: this would let the player get “points” for students of both genders, plus it would still make sense to gain more points for certain students, like the student council or the bullies. Maybe you could even steal teachers’ phones under certain circumstances?

8. YanDev is homophobic

Again not too sure on this one

Iirc, most of the comments people bring up on this are from years ago when he still went by EvaXephon

But speaking as a wlw, I think some of the ways I’ve seen him talk about f/f relationships are pretty creepy. And on top of that, he seems to be considering adding a “female senpai” option to the game, but no male player character? (though i guess i can see the point of view that a male mc would need a lot more new voice lines, animations, etc. while the senpai follows a mostly fixed routine and would only need so many. still, it seems wrong to have one without the other). I hope I’m wrong about this but his support of the LGBT community seems mostly focused on the L and more for his own entertainment than any actual support

9. YanDev is making more money than he should (and handles it poorly)

His Patreon may be dropping, but his YouTube channel is raking in even more money with 2M+ subscribers, and he’s making even more money from things like merch and donations... all while apparently still living with his parents (which i don’t find hard to believe). He’s also apparently bought 2 switches and a sex doll instead of using the money to hire the help he desperately needs with his game

Assuming he really does still live with his parents, I fully support the petition to get his Patreon suspended until he at least finishes Osana. Most game devs don’t make any money off of their games until they’ve finished it completely

10. YanDev wrote rape fanfics

So I did briefly check his old ffn profile some time ago, and as far as I could see everything had the proper ratings and warnings

Tagging/warning/rating is a fanfic author’s only responsibility to you. You make the choice on whether or not to read it. If everything is appropriately tagged and you read it anyway, that’s on you, not the author. If you are mature enough to be on the internet unsupervised, then you are mature enough to curate your own experience.

Fiction is the place to explore controversial themes and topics. It doesn’t mean in any way that a content creator would condone the things they write about in real life

11. YanDev steals art/assets

He does, and still hasn’t apologized for the DLC rivals thing. In fact he made a post defending himself for it, and even compared himself to Andy Warhol in the process (lol)

I’m not sure but I think I heard something recently about him continuing to do this type of thing (the grass, etc.). In which case we should continue to put pressure on him until he credits the creators of whatever art/assets he stole. Art theft is inexcusable

12. The fanbase is mostly kids

This is unfortunately true, and it’s a big problem (i’ve had to deal with it myself on my youtube channel)

However I would personally say that this problem is outside of YanDev’s control. Kids seem to be drawn to edgy/violent things, or things they shouldn’t be allowed to see (just look at Call of Duty). I put the blame for this on the parents who aren’t monitoring their kids’ computer activities. As for YanDev, he’s not a babysitter and it’s not his responsibility to censor his content for kids who shouldn’t be viewing it in the first place

Underage or not though, he should really avoid calling his fans things like “fuck kittens”. Even from the perspective of an adult that’s super creepy to hear

13. The character designs suck

Some are alright, others are absolutely awful

I think that, in a game built on anime tropes, characters should be allowed to have unnaturally-coloured hair. I mean, a lot of characters in anime do have weird hair that you wouldn’t see in real life (seemingly without any dye), and it can add a lot of personality to their designs

But some YanSim characters push that too far. The science club is the worst of the worst imo, despite being otherwise one of my favourite clubs. The neon streaks are ugly, and what’s up with the visors? Why are they allowed to wear those outside of club time? Why do they wear them during club time, as opposed to actual goggles or something? (i have this issue with a lot of club accessories, imo the accessories are unnecessary in the first place)

The bullies and the light music club also take things too far. Their designs are crowded, hard to look at, and out-of-place. Nothing against characters with multi-coloured hair, but there’s a time and a place and a “prestigious” school setting isn’t it

(also, slightly off-topic, but why does almost every “intended couple” look like they could be siblings?)

I could probably make a whole separate post on the character designs in YS, but I’ll save that for another day. (i’m just very passionate about character design)

14. YanDev has collaborated with porn games 3 times now

Once I could overlook (after all, the characters are 18+ and YS is already not for kids) but a third time? Seriously? And so soon after the last one?

Not only do I have mixed feelings about Yandev doing crossovers when his game isn’t even in the demo stage yet, isn’t this game supposed to be taken seriously as a horror game? I can’t think of a single other horror game that has willingly put its characters in porn.

Also I can’t help noticing that he advertises the porn game crossovers a lot more than he did with that one Dark Deception crossover. Did he ever even mention that one? I only ever saw it on the Dark Deception Twitter

15. YanDev is rude to his fans

I don’t have a lot to say against this one. As far as I’ve seen, he is, and he doesn’t take criticism well at all (just look at the subreddit - yes, a lot of the things that were removed deserved it (unfunny cum chalice jokes, etc.) but there have also been completely innocent questions, fanarts, jokes, and fanfics that have been removed. Not to mention mods going through peoples’ post history and banning them for being active in r/Osana. Both he and his mod team seem insanely paranoid)

I think he’s going to have to grow a thicker skin and stop censoring critiques if he wants to get anywhere with this game. Not just fans who bring up tiny details that might need changing, but also big, glaring issues like the code and character designs and such. He also doesn’t seem that professional for a game developer who wants to be taken seriously

That being said, if you’re the type to spam the discord server/subreddit/fan communities who have nothing to do with Yandev like the amino, you deserved that ban

16. YanDev defends pedophiles/the “sex license” thing

“No adult ever has any excuse to do anything sexual with a child. As soon as you touch a kid, you have crossed the line from being someone with a mental disorder to being the worst scum imaginable. Having a mental illness is involuntary, but touching a kid is a choice. If you have a mental illness, I feel bad for you. If you violate a child, I feel disgust and contempt for you, and I think you deserve the death penalty.” -From YanDev himself on this page

The sex license thing is also debunked on the same page: the whole conversation was taken out of context and the hypothetical “license” was supposed to be something that only an adult could meet the requirements for

17. “Corona-chan”

This was a really insensitive move to make in the middle of a pandemic, and I agree that the design was racist

However, YanDev listened to the fans’ complaints and removed the easter egg a day later, plus gave an apology. I think that this was the best thing he could do in that scenario and idk what else people are expecting him to do about it

18. YanDev’s general portrayal of high schoolers

Honestly, it’s not 100% realistic (especially in some of the dialogue. you know what i’m talking about)

I’m surprised that more students don’t seem to have friends outside of their clubs. It seems like all the students mostly stick within their club/group - walking to school together, spending their breaks together, etc. A lot of the ways the characters behave are very robotic, like walking in a perfectly straight line everywhere they go

That being said, a lot of the things i’ve seen criticized in regards to this are not part of the problem. By the time you’re in high school, you’ve probably hit puberty. It doesn’t make a character automatically sexualized if they have bigger breasts (though some designs in the game are over-sexualized, like a few certain staff members)

19. Muja, Mida, and Hanako

Let’s start with Hanako: Yandev has already said that she’s not romantically interested in her brother, she’s just insanely clingy and doesn’t want him to get a girlfriend out of fear that he’ll forget about her. If you still insist that she’s in love with Taro, then that’s on you

Muja and Mida I have mixed feelings on.

If every student is 18 or older, meaning that the first-years are 18, that makes Taro, a third-year, 20-21 years old. If Mida and Muja are in their early 20s as Yandev has said, that means that the age gap isn’t an issue. However, it’s still wrong for a teacher or a nurse to pursue their student/patient

I don’t think Yandev should need to spell out “hey, Mida and Muja are not good people” in flashing neon signs. The game is rated M and anyone who’s old enough to play it should be able to understand that without it being said. If you need morality in fiction spoon-fed to you, you probably shouldn’t be watching/reading/playing anything rated above PG

On the other hand, YanDev has a nasty habit of making these things into a joke, which is really insensitive and creepy. Like saying that Mida’s favourite food is “the spit of a younger man” (yikes), that she’s tried to seduce her own students 69 times (haha 69 so funney right guys XD), or that whole confession scene mess. It’s less of a problem with Muja, but it’s still there. As much as the audience shouldn’t need everything served to them on a silver platter, issues like these should still be treated with respect, not made into gags

20. Yandev wastes time on “Easter eggs”

I have to agree that he does spend time implementing unnecessary things sometimes (like the abc challenge), but as far as I know the Easter eggs are what he does in his spare time while waiting for assets from volunteers. However: snap mode, which was hyped up for years, turned out to be a flop with zero purpose, disappointing a good portion of the fanbase.

21. Love Letter

So far I’m really liking the look of this game: I like the models and the school environment they’ve shown, and it seems like they’re doing a lot of things in better or more interesting ways than YanDev, like not outright telling us who the rivals are. I don’t think it’s fair to accuse them of “stealing” anything, when it seems like most of the assets the games have in common are the things they bought from the Unity store (Love Letter even changed the base Unity model to have a more appealing look)

I'm glad to see that they actually listened to criticism from fans on things like Setsuna’s design (I love her newest look and I hope it’s the final one). From design alone she’s already a more interesting protagonist, and she looks like the sort of character you’d actually enjoy playing as

Not sure I totally buy the claim that it was all done in two weeks, but even if it was over the span of months, that’s still miles better than YanSim’s six years

Knowing that Dr. Apeis has already ditched one project I’m staying open to new information on this, but as of right now I’m looking forward to playing the demo!

Overall: A lot of the hate against the game and the dev are unnecessary, but some is justified and we shouldn’t blindly defend everything he does (seriously, you can admit that the character designs are shit. no one is going to stone you for it). There are a lot of improvements Dev could make, both on the game and on his behaviour towards fans.

I think that the biggest improvement would be for the game to just stop taking itself so seriously. At this point, it’s so full of memes, cringy google translate names, excessive edginess, and gags that it may as well just be a fun ridiculous anime game instead of a serious horror game. I feel like taking this approach could make it more successful (plus, it doesn’t really have a lot of horror elements aside from the gore)

There are a lot of cases of people taking things too far. Like spamming YanDev with explicit gore/animal abuse, trying to swat him, spamming volunteers with weird porn, trying to hack into volunteers’ accounts (including bank accounts), etc. That is going way too far, no matter how awful or pathetic you think a person is. If you are doing these kinds of things, you are doing more harm than Dev or his volunteers

Attacking YanDev’s appearance is unnecessary and not related to his behaviour or skills. Same with the chalice memes

However, I’ve seen a lot of YanDev’s defenders lashing out against “gremlins”, lumping all of them in with the kinds of people who do these things. If you check r/Osana, you’ll see that most if not all of the people there condemn this behaviour: the gore and porn spammers are a loud minority (and i’m willing to bet most of them are the basement-dwelling losers from KiwiFarms and 4Chan)

Attacking and/or spamming fans who are just trying to enjoy the game is also unnecessary. Someone liking a video game you don’t like is not doing you any harm. Be mature and move on

I’m not sure if some of what I’ve said above is 100% accurate so if anyone actually read this and has evidence against it then feel free to add

I think that’s about all I have to say on that. Again, i don’t know if it will change anything in the fandom but i really just wanted to get this off my chest

#yandere simulator #yansim #yanderedev #yandev #not sure if i should tag this as crit or not

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evonymus · 4 years

Text

Deadly Premonition 2

Everything I write here is just my opinion. I don't try to represent someone else's thoughts and feelings. I fully understand that tastes differ and things I dislike may be enjoyed by others and vice versa. By writing this I don't try to attack anyone who has different opinion about the game. This text will have spoilers, so don’t read it if you haven’t beaten the game yet. It’s a lot of rambling that is not really structurized or anything, just a big collection of thoughts. Strong language is used.

Gameplay-wise the game seemed pretty meh. I fully realize it may feel very different if you actually play it instead of watching, the feeling of completion, getting stuff done and all that sorta thing. Still, the majority of game seems like a shit-ton of donkey work. Side missions are a very mixed bag. Sometimes they feel like the ones in the 1st game when you need to talk to someone or get an item for them, those ones are ok. However, there's a lot of grinding which you'd expect from an mmorpg, nor a murder mystery. As for the main missions, this is where one of my biggest problems with the game comes in. The first game was all about investigation. Go to the case-related place and investigate it, examine the corpse, talk to witnesses, follow your new lead and so on. It felt like a real investigation. Sure, York did rely on supernatural to solve it, but it was like twice in the entire game (fishing the docs from the waterfall thanks to the cup and going to Harry because the newspaper told him to. I don't count FK in the coffee since it's not much of a clue, just foreshadowing). He only used it because with Nick getting arrested he had no other clues what to do next. It sure felt a bit weird but...understandable? In the 2nd game, however, there's no real investigation going on. All York does is just blindly following oracles and hope that something good will come out of it and there will be progress. And there is because MAGIC! We used to be a competent FBI agent, now it turns out we're only successful because MAGIC! Zach even blatantly admits he has left FBI because he doesn’t get MAGIC HINTS anymore. For me it's a massive let-down. Also, since there's little logical reasoning behind many main missions, they feel super-meh as well. Oh, hey, it's an important person, can't wait to meet and question them! Waaaait-wait-wait-wait, you've got a collectathon in front of you that makes no sense in general but still will move your investigation forward because MAGIC! (Yes, I'm stil bitter and angry as fuck at those stupid drums that do nothing). The thing is, I totally understand why the developers felt it was perfectly normal to make the game this way. The reason behind it is called LOL WACKY. DP gained fame as being a bizarre and wacky game, which to my mind is pretty unfair. It had its moments, sure, but that's what's made it special - just the right balance of "sane" and "insane". Unfortunately, due to its reputation the developers got the wrong message and stopped bothering to make things coherent. "Who cares if something doesn't make sense, it's WACKY and that's exactly what fans want!" Big fat nope. I don't mind a bit of silliness in games, however this game goes far beyond "a bit". The same goes for the characters. Sorry, LOL ZANY characters, another DP1 (not really) staple. DP2 doesn't have as many really quirky people as the 1st game does but man they felt forced and annoying, from their overall shticks to speech patterns. There are characters from DP1 I dislike, but I dislike them for being dicks in general. DP2 characters though I hate from the bottom of my heart for how goddamn irritating they are. I'm sorry, maybe I got old or something, but I really don't think that a concept of a guy refusing to wear clothes is funny. He feels forced as fuck. Just as the guy who has adopted several personas just for lulz (I might be wrong on David, perhaps it is stated in the game that he really has split personality. It won't change anything much though). People in DP1 felt like real people, someone you could meet in real life. Sure, you can meet a guy wearing nothing but his boots, briefs and a hat irl as well, but somehow I doubt it'll be a pleasant acquaintance or, at least, won’t make you question his mental state. Also, don't even get me started on Simon. I literally hated every second of him on the screen. Cartoonish characters were my biggest concern after D4 and boy I was right to worry about that. Also, you don't get to really know people, especially the important ones, so when stuff happens, it barely has any effect on you. Remember how DP1 made you stick with all the main cast for pretty much the entirety of the game, so they felt like family and the end-game literally torn your soul apart? DP2 doesn't even try to get close to that, except for Patricia, but the emotional impact of the ending is nowhere near. The way people talk in the game is atrocious. It often feels like an amateur play written by someone overestimating their writing abilities way too often (talk with Lena in the bar is a good example of what I mean here). Which is a darn shame since there's nothing like that in the 1st game where pretty much all the dialogues were coherent. When thoughts like "That sounds dumb", "That makes no sense" and “That’s not how people talk” are swirling in your mind almost non-stop, that's not a good sign. The directing also seemed to degrade a bit. While there were some scenes in the original, that raised eyebrows and concerns, this game feels more like something of Spy Fiction era. Someone please inform Swery that making someone to look at the rotating screen for too long doesn't make them think "Oh, that's neat!", it makes them wanna puke. There are two little parts that I remember really well: 1) the shot of Patti's mouth when she's tempted to touch a red tree that goes for like 15 seconds while she's making strange noises; 2) That moment when Zach is dreaming about Kaysen, specifically, when he starts screaming and shooting. That frame starts with Zach already screaming and honestly it made me giggle with how silly it looks. Certainly that was not the intended player's reaction. This whole part might seem like nit-picking, but it really rubbed me the wrong way.

As for the plot, Le Carre part felt so-so and rushed with main missions mostly being a flop and major characters dropping like flies. Rest in peace, *character_name, we hardly knew ye. (Also, what the fucking FUCK was that part with an alligator tearing off Danny's hand? If that was a red herring, that was the dumbest fucking red herring I've seen in my entire goddamn life). Also, as a side-note, let me make a little confession here: I'm fucking dumb. I'm dumb as a rock. I can never guess anything, being oblivious to obvious things. Still, I suspected Avery from the very beginning due to his heights and as soon as Lena said the drug changes people's physical properties I was convinced he had been involved. Welp, guess what. Sadly, solving this little riddle has brought me no joy. The ending though... Honestly, I don't even want to give any sort of analysis to it. Just thinking about it makes me mad. All I can say is that it was one of the dumbest, most melodramatic, crappy anime-esque endings I've ever seen. And trust me, I've seen some shit, I've beaten MGS4. I could never expect that someone who has wrote DP1 could write something as ridiculous as that. It was so dumb it wasn’t even funny. "Everything was very bad but then FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC happened and everyone lived happily ever after BECAUSE MAGIC!" That's how fanfiction is written. That’s some AU shit a desperate fan could cobble together. I am fully aware there's a lot of people who are really into this exact sort of stuff. As for me, it makes my skin crawl so fucking much it has probably reached Spain by now. All in all, DP2 is a terrible disappointment. The only real up-side of it is that it has reminded me how good the first game was.

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myeongchokrp · 4 years

Photo

Classical music, long ball gowns and freshly ironed suits— Yeongi’s very own Daengom, a stunning venue for only the richest of weddings and social events, is full to the brim with guests. Invite-only and the event of the year, shopping tycoon Lee Yeonseok’s winter ball has started only a mere hour ago. Despite the weather, much of the tables and dance ( ballroom only, please! ) areas are outside, under a faux sky of twinkling lights. Untouched until dinner, each table is dressed in a crisp white cloth, bouquets upon bouquets of beautiful white and cream flowers and if one didn’t know of the Winter Wonderland theme, it’d be easy to mistake the scene for a late night wedding reception. The only difference is the money.

Inside where his guests currently mingle, the walls are covered with loaned paintings from the art gallery within the Museum of Myeongcho, as well as some of Lee’s private collection. Guards stand in each corridor, in the corner of each room. But what lurks doesn’t mingle amongst the guests— not in numbers, anyway.

TW DEATH, BOMBING

As the night gets under way, champagne sipped gingerly from tall glasses, Hydrus lingers below ground, coordinating via a sophisticated, impenetrable communication system, in-ears invisible to anyone not directly looking for them. They’re in position, waiting for the clock to strike nine. Lee takes the ‘stage’ just before the hour, clinking his spoon gently against his glass to gather the attention of his star studded guests. Celebrities from the mainland, local heroes, CEOs, even known gang members— anyone who’s anyone on Myeongcho is stood together in a crowd before him. Lee smiles at all the people he will sometime soon use for his own benefit and begins his speech.

“Thank you all for coming tonight.” He draws in a deep breath. “Welcome to my annual Winter Ball, which the Daengom is kindly hosting for us tonight.” His audience claps quietly. “Thank you, thank you. Now, I’m sure you all know this has been a long, difficult year for our dear island. Riots, public executions, growing crime rates across the board, attacks to our very own...” He offers a sympathetic smile to MPD Lieutenant Yoo Sihyun who dips his head in return. “In the coming year, we will work together to—” As he raises his glass to propose a toast with his magnificent act of selflessness, the lights cut out. Plunged into the darkness, feet rushing across the floor— some to protect Lee, some in an attempt to restore power, some knowing what is coming next— no one feels the rumble of the floor until it’s too late.

First, the exits fill with rubble. Then, the ceiling cracks. Smoke fills the room. It’s a bomb! They shout. No! It’s more! Two, three, four, maybe. It’s hard to tell amongst the screams of pain, agony, fear. Will you make it out alive?

WELCOME TO MI’S NEWEST EVENT, MI:BLACKOUT !

This post marks the beginning of our newest event — we hope you’re as excited as we are!

IC, Lee’s Annual Winter Ball begins at 8 PM on Saturday, December 21st, 2019. The power cuts out just before 9 PM, and a minute or so later, the first bomb of five goes off below the venue. Due to the power cut, Hydrus members coordinating the attack under the event could not communicate and the bomb was set off with Hydrus members still above ground and in the tunnels.

OOC, this event lasts until midnight at the end of Saturday, January 18th, 2020.

HYDRUS, consider this a mission at the very least derailed. Your own members are caught in the crossfire and whilst the serpents don’t usually concern themselves over friendly fire, this complication runs much deeper than a few lost teammates. Your attempt to kill the shopping tycoon and various other high profile names in a continued effort to rebuild your reputation has been turned on its head. Your targets are trapped as you wanted, but can you finish the job?

LYNX, congratulations on unknowingly making life that little bit harder for Hydrus. You’ve successfully cut out all communications and power across the island — at least for a little while. Unlike Hydrus, however, your targets aren’t living. How much easier is it to steal something with no security alarms? In teams, members of Lynx will advance on various goldmines for valuables — the temporarily closed Museum of Myeongcho, Sunrise Star Hotel, the MPD’s various armouries, confidential files in Myeongcho’s largest organisations. Take what you can, but don’t forget to stay alive. Security officers don’t go home just because the power is out! If you’re on the inside, however… Bad luck on missing out on all the fun! Or are you?

Those on the inside from COLUMBA, PHOENIX and CORVUS, what’s more important: your loyalty or your life? Do you save your fellow members? Or all citizens to keep your allegiance hidden? Do you try to find a way out and leave everyone behind? Can you get to the bottom of this? Or do you take advantage of this opportunity? There’s so much wealth in this room, after all…

MPD, how fast can you really react to something you don’t know about? No calls can come in or out, you’re scrambling to find the source of the island-wide blackout… Unless you’re at the event, it’s likely your attention is elsewhere. Those guests will be fine by themselves, anyway… Right?

To summarise, Lynx and Hydrus have unknowingly planned separate attacks on the same night. Lynx just slightly beating out Hydrus has derailed the latter’s bombing of shopping business tycoon Lee Yeonseok’s Annual Winter Ball, leaving many wealthy names, as well as many of our beloved muses, trapped inside fighting for their lives. The blackout took out all power across the island, including phone reception towers and internet access, meaning there’ll be no way to contact one another for at least twenty minutes whilst teams work to restore power to, at the very least, phone towers. After forty minutes, power will come back on. The Daengom will remain in darkness thanks to the destruction caused by the bombs but mobile phones will regain signal when phone towers are restored regardless.

The above descriptions for each gang are just guidelines! Whether or not your muse is at the Winter Ball or working on the outside in some way is completely up to you!

Muses may have gained access to the Winter Ball through invite, being someone’s plus one, hacking the guest list, etc. If you can’t think of a realistic reason for your muse to be present but would like one, feel free to message us!

To earn +5 points, write a four-post thread or 200+ solo about any part of the event. Any thread about the ball, blackout, bombings, actions elsewhere as a result of the attacks or any aftermath will count!

To earn +5 points, write a four-post thread with a muse you have never written with before about any part of the event. If you’re not sure where to start with ideas for plots, keep reading below this OOC information…!

As always, for threads and solos to count for points, they must be posted before the deadline. You can write as many threads and solos as you’d like, but you can only claim points for one thread/solo for each set of points.

Don’t forget to tag all your event-related posts with this event’s tag mi:blackout and most importantly, have fun! If you have any questions or feedback, please feel free to message the main or Admins Gyu & Woo directly. We hope you enjoy this event!

CLAIMABLE PLOTS

The following are set plots and roles within the event for you to claim for your muses should you choose! These are all optional; you do not need to claim any of these to participate in the event. These plots and positions are for helping guide the event’s progression and offer ideas for development and plots if needed. To claim a plot, simply message us with the letter code and the muse you’d like to have that role within the event and we’ll update the post as soon as we see it! We hope this will connect you to new muns you may not have otherwise gotten the chance to plot with, and give you unique development for your muses! Please let us know if you like this idea for events. Your feedback will help us plot and structure future events!

You, SONG SEOAH, have been assisting with first aiders such as LEE HYUNWOO since the explosions stopped. Paramedics are on their way, but for many present, that may be too late. Your bravery and intuition hasn’t gone unnoticed by others and following the release of all those trapped inside, you’re recruited for Columba by KIM TAEHYUNG for your tenacity. They won’t be the only ones watching, though, local hero. NOTE: This is an opportunity to get your muse recruited by Columba and requires no further point cost or reward solo to change your muse’s affiliation.

Hydrus member Muse D had been mingling amongst the guests listening to Lee’s speech when the power went out. Alarmed, they’d tried desperately to get in touch with other members but with no signal and no power, it’s impossible. You connect eyes with Muse E ( Hydrus ) across the crowd and gravitate to one another for safety. After all, you were only supposed to keep an eye out and give the signal before making your escape. You weren’t supposed to get caught in the crossfire.

JEON JEONGGUK is fascinated by this power outage and the moment you regain signal, you begin to delve into finding the source. Along the way, you find SON HYEJOO a fellow hacker who may or may not be part of the team that took the island down…

Muse H ( Lynx ) is one of the coordinators or seniors on the attack against the Museum of Myeongcho. Muse I ( Lynx ) is one of the most inexperienced on the job. Eager to impress as they may be, this is a rather large first step. Can you work together to get the job done?

KIM MINJI and PARK SUNGKI are trapped inside the Daengom with no power, no first aid kits and PARK SUNGKI unable to walk on their injured ankle. They won’t die from the injury, of course, but it’s not like they can get out by themselves before the rest of the building collapses. Will KIM MINJI help them, or does their loyalty not extend to outside of their gang?

Muse L is out in the streets when everything descends into darkness. Luckily, a reporter is there to ask them a hundred questions! Buckle in, Muse L, because you’re not going anywhere until they get all the answers they’re looking for. NOTE: This prompt is in the format of a submit from the main and will likely take a couple days to get to you due to the holiday season.

#mi:event #mi:blackout #( enjoy!! ♥ )#tw: death #tw: bombing #tw: bombs

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trumpetnista · 5 years

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CMW2/Trumpetnista: Not You, Too

Summary from FFN: CANON COMPLIANT AU WITH HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE END OF SEASON 4 AND THE FIRST EPS OF 5. POSSIBLY A FUTURE FIC; Gotham breaks all the rules all the time, especially now. Thankfully, the one about cats having 9 lives? That still holds. Bruce thinks Selina is dead. Everyone does until she walks into the GCPD the next morning.;Rated for language and imagery;1st in my 2019 SSS Project

Words from the Hooded GOTHAMITE: As I said last time, what keeps me watching GOTHAM (other than the awesome writing, dope ass cast, and the lovely fandom...) are Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. They hooked me like a fish and I fell in love with the rest of the show in the process. Season 5 has been excellent as always yet bittersweet. It’s supposed to be the last one (I hope not. I hope the show gets picked up or we get a movie or something! It can’t be over yet! Come on!) and I have a feeling that B and Grumpy Cat aren’t gonna be together in the endgame. Not outright, anyways. I don’t think they’ll be enemies but together? As in Helena Wayne showing up levels of together? Nah.

That’s what fanfic is for. There is a follow up to Positive planned, BTW.

Anyway, this one is another canon complaint AU set in the current season. All you really need to know is that The Eviler Evil Valeska Twin shot our girl, she was paralyzed and now she’s not thanks to Ivy Pepper Version 3’s reluctant help, and Gotham is now divided up into Zones, most of them insane and wild and chock full of yikes. Oh, and Bruce loves Selina but that’s always been pretty fucking obvious. LOL! Enjoy the latest.

Disclaimer: “Honestly, it’s not mine!”

"What's up, 5-0? Beautiful day, isn't it? The sky is smoggy blue and the birds are singing..."

He was hallucinating.

He had to be.

There was no way that what he was hearing was possible.

No matter how much he ached to, there was no way that he was hearing Selina Kyle's voice.

She was dead. Truly dead. She had gone on one of what she called her "shopping trips" for The Haven and Jeremiah Valeska had finished what he had started that horrible night in the Study. He and his demented girlfriend had trapped her in a warehouse, knocked her out, and blown her up. Not only had they done it, Jeremiah had turned himself in, battered but proud. He claimed that it had been for the best. Selina was nothing but street trash. She was his downfall and utterly unacceptable as a companion for him. Gotham needed its Dark Knight to be with someone who truly understood what reality was. Someone like...

Bruce Wayne hadn't let him finish. Before anyone could stop him, he had picked up a chair and gone after him, much to the shrieking horror of Ecco. It had taken several officers and someone, likely Alfred Pennyworth, sedating him to make him stop. He had woken up in Jim Gordon's office and had stayed on the couch. He didn't want to see anyone. Nobody knew what to say to him. Everyone knew how much Selina meant to him. That was why she had been targeted twice.

Bruce had managed to help her. He had gone straight into the belly of Ivy Pepper's foliage covered beast to get the root to fix her severed spine. Selina had gotten back on her feet immediately and hit the ground running. Shocking everyone, she had opted to wait to get her revenge against Valeska. She was going to play the long game. Valeska wasn't going anywhere. He was just as trapped as everyone else, thanks to the bridges being gone and the Travel Ban.

When asked why, she had sadly explained that Tabitha Galavan, her Mentor turned Sister, had been impatient for revenge and it had taken her life. She had allowed anger and hurt to cloud her judgement. She had dropped her guard and Oswald Cobblepot had promptly murdered her. Bruce had seen it happen. It had been expected. After all, both Galavan siblings had done great harm to the man but hearing Barbara Kean's devastated rage? Knowing that Selina would have to mourn her? It had hurt deeply. It was all a goddamned waste.

Instead of seeking out Valeska or his followers, Selina had opted to use her skills as a thief to help The Haven and its refugees. She would pick a small gang's turf within a Zone, typically Penguin's, and go in for 12-36 hours. She would bring back people, ammunition, medicine, and meaningful things like blankets or feminine hygiene products. She had quickly gained a reputation for being utterly ruthless to any who tried to stop her, which had concerned him greatly. Ivy had warned him that the root would not only fix her spine but amplify the darker aspects of her personality. Bruce had tried to reel her in, leading to several arguments, and eventually, they had reached a stalemate.

She would do what she liked. He would stay out her way or at least keep his judgement to himself while he helped her. Gotham was a madhouse. It always had been but now? It was a free for all. It was survival of the fittest and she would be damned if she let someone who crossed her walk away. She had made that mistake in the past and it had cost her dearly. She had been screwed over one too many times. It would not be happening again. If there was a Hell, she was already going to it so what did it matter, anyways? Self defense wasn't murder, neither was saving people's asses.

Plus, she didn't know about him but she was in no mood to deal with the same group of psychos 10 years from now. She wanted to deal with new psychos.

But, now she wouldn't because she was dead and gone. She was as dead and gone as his parents.

His Selina was gone and Bruce would never see her again, not in this life.

But, the hallucination...she wasn't...she couldn't be...

Could she? Please?

Her mane of golden chestnut curls wasn't singed and pulled up into a messy bun. She wasn't standing in the 12th precinct's main entryway. She wasn't wheezing softly from a partially blocked nose. Her tactical suit wasn't unzipped to reveal a stained gray sports bra and bruised torso. She wasn't looking at the stunned occupants of the room with her usual dismissive amusement, even with a black eye. She wasn't limping and her whip wasn't wrapped around her bruised shoulder like a coil of wire as she drank straight from a bottle of what appeared to be Everclear.

She couldn't be...could she? Was it possible? She couldn't...why was the room spinning? Why was his chest hurting? Bruce stood in the office, speechless and shaking, watching as the Selina hallucination sat on the receptionist desk. It was so real...

"What's the matter? You guys never seen a 7 lives having bitch before?"

"My God..."

"Jesus Christ, Gordon! Get the hell off of me! You, too, Alfred! Bad touch!"

The hallucination looked like her. It definitely sounded like her but it couldn't...she wasn't...but Jim was smiling at it. Alfred was too. Both were still hugging the hallucination and Harvey Bullock had taken its bottle of liquor away, taking a deep swig. She snatched it back from him and shot him a lethal look, making him grin.

"Buzz off, gumshoe. This is mine. I earned it. Plus, it's the closest thing we've got to morphine, which I kinda need right now. I need some morphine, a shower, a nap, maybe take a crap before all of that..."

"Kid, we all thought you were done for. Valeska and his crazy Terminator bitch said you were."

"I'm not a kid. Yeah, I definitely got shanghaied by those goddamned freaks and it sucked but their bomb didn't kill me like they wanted it to. It just made me fly away, which was totally fun until I landed face, ribs, and tits first into the side of a delivery truck. Don't do that, by the way. It hurts. I managed to get it started and it has some good stuff in there. Ammo, some cases of water, and those military TV dinner things and I think there might be meds. I'm not sure. Speaking of meds, I'm still looking for Lee. She was the best, bravest doctor in the city and if I can find her, you can get The Narrows under control real easy. Everybody loved her because she legit gave a shit so they're looking for her. There's a big T.P. and blankets reward for anyone who finds her. She might be across the river, I dunno. Maybe someone could swim over through the subways to go check and to ask for help in person since using the radio obviously doesn't goddamned work..."

"It's too dangerous. The damage from the bridges blocked or flooded the tunnels."

"Dammit. You can't rig something up, Foxy? You're like the better version of that tech dude from the James Bonds movies. The hell's his name again? X? Y?"

"Q."

"Right...whatever. Where's Bruce?"

"Selina..."

"Where. Is. Bruce? Alfred, where is he? Did he...where the hell is he?! What happened?!"

"Valeska showed up here gloating and he snapped. He took a chair to him and...he was in Cap's office but..."

"Get out of my way. Now."

"Selina, I know you're worried but..."

"Harper, I really like you but if you don't get the fuck out of my way, I swear to God, I'll..."

Bruce stepped out of the office and all eyes went to him. All he could see was Selina. He was still shaking and breathing was getting more difficult by the second but he couldn't look away. He didn't even want to blink because then, she would disappear and...

"Oh, no."

As soon as she touched him, reality hit him all at once.

She was real.

She was alive!

"Bruce. Bruce? Come on, baby, look at me...you need to breathe...look at me!"

His first instinct was to obey her and he did just that. His Selina wanted him to breathe. She wanted him to look at her and he was going to. He was going to do any and everything she asked.

Baby? That was new. Selina usually called him B or by his full name. Either that or she called him a douchebag or something else along those lines but fondly. Never a pet name. She had always cringed at pet names and other conventional romantic relationship things like them. But, she was alive. She was alive. She was battered and bruised and didn't smell very good but she was alive. Selina was alive! She wasn't gone. Jeremiah hadn't taken her away from him. Gotham hadn't stolen her away from him. He hadn't lost her. She was alive. She was right in front of him. He wasn't dreaming. He wasn't hallucinating.

"Selina?"

"Hey, Bruce."

"You're alive."

"Barely."

"...y-you're alive?"

"Yeah, I'm alive. I'm right in of- ow!"

Bruce knew that he would have to do some serious groveling later but he didn't care. He hauled Selina flush against him and squeezed as hard as he could, uncaring of her injuries. The noises escaping him could be called crying or maybe screaming, he wasn't sure. As if let loose from a puppeteer's strings, he slumped against the wall and surprising him, Selina wasn't fighting him.

She was holding onto him just as tightly. She was crying like she had after her failed suicide attempt and he loosened his grip enough for her to look up at him. She had to look up at him, now. She had to stand on her tiptoes to give him a proper kiss when they were standing. He remembered when she was taller than him. He remembered when they first met. Every memory he had with her, good and bad, was running through his mind at warp speed.

Cupping his face, she kissed him deeply and he responded immediately, mindful of her cut lip. His second hug was much gentler and he smiled at a beaming Alfred, a crying and grinning Jim. They loved her just as much as he did. They were her family, along with Barbara Kean, and...

"As soon as the Travel Ban lifts, I'm going on vacation and I'm taking you with me. I don't give a shit about your Mission or whatever the hell you call it. We're going someplace warm where we can get falling down fucked up drunk legally and I can have my tits out."

Bruce tried to laugh but he kept sobbing, drinking her in greedily. She was alive. His best friend, his heart, his Selina was alive! She wanted to go someplace warm? Done. She wanted him with her? Done. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he would do it. Even if (when) it compromised his moral compass, he would do it anyway because Selina Kyle was alive. She was alive and he wasn't going to question how. Okay, he would because that was how he was. He always wanted answers but the universe had granted him a most precious gift and...

"...not you, too?"

His voice was small and the smile, the look she gave him was the softest he had ever seen.

"Not me, too. Not today. Not ever. You're stuck with me, Bruce Wayne. Get used to it."

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hothoovesgaming · 6 years

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Developer Update #3

DISCLAIMER: Hot Hooves Gaming is an indie game developer with no ties to Hasbro or any of its properties. We don’t own any of the characters featured therein, save for the individual Original Character (OC) who has been created for this non-profit fan-made game project.

Wow! April has come and gone in a big way, and I can hardly believe that May is already here. The best part of all this is that classes are over for me and my next semester doesn’t kick in for another few months. Things have been moving particular slowly this month due to class projects and exams, but I’m hoping that May, June and July will be big productive months for our My Little Pony Visual Novel project. Moving on into the update, let’s go! ^_^

Let’s put a number on the project’s progress bar: 8%

Script

We had mentioned that during March, we would be progressing with the story lines for Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack. In a rather unfortunate way, this has proven to be a very slow process due to the complexity of the first arc we began tackling: Rarity’s romance arc.

This is arguably going to be one of the longest set ups in the game, as far as the romance arcs are concerned. You see, the way that the romance arcs work is that they are fan fictions within the game that advance the plot in one way or another. I wasn’t satisfied with saying, “This is going to be the romance arc for _______. The focus of this story is going to be choosing correct dialogue options that will eventually win the heart of the fair pony by the end of the arc, and they’ll have hearts in their eyes the rest of the story from that point on.”

LAME. And without proper context. So it’s easy to make the main character a lovable dork who gains the interest of all the girls simply because he’s the new colt, or because he is the one who will save the world. Or maybe he’s the main character of the visual novel and he’s supposed to get the girl, right? Well... technically he is. It’s built into the plot that after spending time getting to know the mane six - hey it would make sense to feel impassioned about one of them right?

But what about the mane six? As far as I know, they are not ones to embrace feelings of love toward another colt - in the romantic sort of way. The build for the girls in the visual novel is going to be slow and subtle, to the point that it should feel more natural for the girls to accept that they’ve fallen for the main character who wasn’t just saying the right things all the time, but who was interacting with them constantly and helping them with internal and external issues. “Dusk” tags along with the girls so he can get to know them, and as things spring up as a result of the Crystal Crisis, the girls find that having Dusk around is a much bigger deal than simply having Twilight, or Applejack as their companion when they set off on a trip.

What does this mean for Rarity’s romance arc? I mean to say that it’s going to be much more in depth than a simple scenario where Dusk and Rarity chat for a while and eventually return to Ponyville having grown a little closer after spending quality time together. There’s going to be more to it than that. Mystery. Intrigue. A change of clothes to fit the situation and the genre for the specific situation. It’s something we’re hoping ya’ll will be able to enjoy as a side story within the main campaign of the game.

It all culminates in the main campaign when Dusk has interacted with everyone and he has forged wonderful bonds that will sustain him for the rest of the story. Oops... at least... that’s what we want you to think anyway. >_o

Cliffnotes: Rarity’s story is still being scripted, so we’ll be working on that immediately! XD XD

Art

Art actually took a lot of attention during the month of April, thanks in part to some advice that we received from a follower on Tumblr. The gist of the conversation was spearheaded by the notion that we needed to get our artist and his respective works “out there”. Credibility, reputation, a following - these are very important factors that could make or break HHG if not handled sooner rather than later.

So during April, we released our Spring Heat Art Pack which featured six fan art pieces for MLP characters enjoying themselves in the warm Spring season. It was a great bit of practice for us, and a challenge to complete a couple of pictures a day during our Spring Break week.

We have also been working on sketch bases for characters who will be appearing in the visual novel including, Shinning Armor, Vinyl Scratch, and Octavia.

Working on other pieces of fan art, some of which will soon be featured in a future post has also lead to a great deal of practice and increased morale among the group. Some healthy, petting to our collective ego to let us know that we are not the only ones who think that our art is improving as time goes on, and that in the context of the full visual novel - many will be able to appreciate the final product when it finally manifests. ^_^

Programming

Not too much time has gone into programming or planning anymore parts of the visual novel game. We’ve already done a fair bit of experimenting using Tyranno Builder as our visual novel engine. We feel that the prototype menus are a great start to something that could become a little more sophisticated in the future.

However, we are still focused on the scripting phase of our pre-planning process in order to better understand what the game will end up looking like at the end of the production process. By doing more research into the way that other visual novels present themselves, we’re hoping we can come up with an aesthetically pleasing way of presenting our game. When the script is finished, it will be much easier to build the game according to the dialogue and narrative content.

Our main focus for this month is going to be completing the romance arcs for all of our characters in the story. That is, to finish the stories beyond the half way point that we have set up for each of the Mane 6. Twilight, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie have half of their arcs complete - next up will be the first half of Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Applejack. After ward, Dusk will take a full day to complete the rest of the romance arcs for all of the girls.

The main campaign will then continue with a very exciting revelation that will turn our main character’s world upside down. O_O

That’s going to wrap up this month’s Developer Update for the month of April (in May) XD. Class made things a bit slow for the month of April, but with May on the horizon, we hope to finish a lot of content in order to move the project ahead.

See ya’ll in the next update. And remember -

A crisis is coming...

#my little pony #mlp: fim #mlp #hothoovesgaming #hot hooves gaming #visual novel #mlpvn #indie game #developer update #indie developer

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vesperlionheart · 7 years

Note

i love your work so much ! honestly you improved my whole world of fanfics by bounds and im so thankful

Space!Angel

She was a lot smaller than he expected, prettier too.

Kakashi glanced up over the top of his clipboard. She was right where he left her, smack dab in the center of the room with her hand on her hip and a devil may care gleam in her eye. The standard navy colored space suit he saw sold in malls all along the space colonies was zipped down to her hips, the top half being tied messily around her waist.

Behind her sat the dull red head who followed her around. Gaara had been what she called him. The rest of her crew waited elsewhere, less concerned with sticking to her side.

“So,” Kakashi cleared his throat. “You’ve done this sort of work before, I see. Why chose to go at it alone? It’s much safer and far neater to go through the system as an agent of a larger entity.”

“I’m aware of that. I never had a problem getting work when I had Konah telling me what to do, but I like calling my own shots.”

“Is that for any particular reason?”

She shifted the weight of her body from one leg to the other, but the gleam in her eyes didn’t change. “I don’t like people telling me what to do. That’s how I choose to live my life.”

“Even if that means extra danger?”

Sakura laughed prettily and Gaara looked up. “Kakashi san, nothing about the bounty business is safe, regardless of who backs you or doesn’t.”

“I suppose so, but every precaution counts if it keeps you alive.”

“If that’s what you call living.”

Kakashi glanced back down at the papers she had given him. Listed up and down where the ranks and details of missions she had completed on her own. It said she started young, at twelve, but the lowest she listed was a C mission. There were plenty of B and A ranked missions that sounded challenging, but it was the handful of S class missions at the top that made him stop and look at her twice.

She was young and a beauty. There was no way he would have pegged her as an assassin skilled enough to survive suicide missions. Before defecting from Konah for a solo career she had been ANBU class. It was hard to picture her with blood on her face, especially when she smiled so easily.

Kakashi felt like a dirty old man when his thoughts started to wander before he reminded himself of the age difference. Also he was a professional contact. Relations with work people was a no-no. He knew that.

“I’m sorry to say this, but you’re jumping in at the worse season for this sector.”

“Really? I thought with the tri gate races there would be plenty of traffic and plenty of criminals. It’s such a seedy sector to begin with…”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong, but the Dawn Guard work in this sector during the races. Other bounty hunters and agents can try and do business here, but the Akatsuki don’t leave a lot to the competition and can be even worse than the scum you’re collecting. I’ve heard stories.”

Sakura snapped her fingers and nodded. “I thought that name sounded familiar. Dawn Guard….back in Konah we called them the Akatsuki exclusivly. I’ve run into them before on my own.”

It wasn’t lost on Kakashi how her companion tensed at the mentioning of the name. From the looks of it, Sakura wasn’t the only one who had tangoed with the deadly organization.

“Don’t think lightly of them. They’re financially unmatched and rumored to do dirty work on the side. Each and every one of their members has a reputation that stands on its own, but together they have the equal power of Konah.”

“That’s debatable.”

“No, it really isn’t,” Kakashi murmured, reaching up to touch the end of his mask below his left eye. His hair hung down over that side of his face, but Sakura could see the raised flesh of a scar traveling straight up through the place where his eye should have been.

“You were from Konah, weren’t you?” she asked after a moment. Kakashi blinked.

“Retired.”

“Son of the white fang, if I recall correctly. They spoke well of you.”

“Ah, I would imagine ANBU like to tell stories of past. While not the most talkative, they could always be counted on for a good story when it came down to it.”

Sakura smiled again, and this time it was wide and bright. “I liked the stories they told about you. They always came out great.”

Kakashi vaguely recognized her manipulation. She was feeding his ego in hopes of getting the work she wanted out of him and it was working. He liked being smiled at by pretty young girls, and Sakura was both.

Inwardly chiding himself for what he was about to do, the older man reached down and pulled out a binder before selecting a folder to hand over to her. He picked two more and turned those over to her as well.

“Here. These are cases you could work in the area. The last two are easier and likely not something the Akatsuki would wast their time with. But the first one is the one most suited to your particular skill set. I…wouldn’t encourage you to pursue it, since it is a case they are most likely already working.”

Sakura ignored the latter two files and went straight for the S ranked mission. A wicked smile spread across her face to match her dazzling eyes and Kakashi knew there was no way she would head his advice. A moment later she chuckled. “Yes, I can see exactly what you mean. This is something Deidara san would be good at, and the reward is exorbitant. I can’t see Kakuzu not wanting that.”

There was something relaxed about her tone, as if she were speaking objectively about friends and not deadly rouge operatives who would likely kill her if ever they crossed paths.

Kakashi closed his binder and returned it to the alcove under his desk before coughing to gain her attention. “You sound familiar with the Dawn Guard. When did you first hear about them?”

Sakura looked up, her smile still in place. “We’ve crossed paths a few times. The first time was when I killed the main android body of Sasori the scorpion, and then we met again when their leader Madara Uchiha decided it would be a good idea to skewer me on a stick, so yeah, I’m familiar.”

The way the word familiar rolled off her lips sounded so suggestive it almost made the old man blush. Without much trouble, Sakura took all three files, bowed, thanked Kakashi for his time, and then left with the red head who had remained silent all throughout the meeting. Sakura paused in the doorway to wave and smile, to which Kakashi waved and smiled back. Once the door fell closed he sagged down into his seat and sighed.

“I hope they don’t kill her, she seems nice.”

Sakura drifted with the gravity turned off around her quarters, taping down photos and downloading information stolen from larger archives onto her mobil device. Paper was such an archaic thing that no one ever saw off the home world, but Sakura liked visuals that never turned off when having to drift through monitored zones in occupied space.

She paused to push down the curled edges of a photo of Sasori of the Red Sand, AKA Sasori the scorpion. A man who was no longer as human has he once was. Still, he was deceptively handsome, and if the rumors were true, he was still using his original human body while his android army worked on building up a replacement vessel.

“Good,” she chuckled, kissing her finger and then pressing the digit to the photo where his lips were. “And they call me an angel.”

Pushing back, she twisted on herself and grabbed onto the back of a magnetized chair that sat in front of her large screened computer. She was trying her darnest to get past Shikimaru’s firewall and the only reason she had as much luck as she did was because the lazy bastard never bothered to keep security up to date. She knew how to get around his usual traps. She had helped him with half of them for the longest time, after all.

“Sakura chan!”

She didn’t bother looking up from the screen as she taped out access codes and passwords with her second hand keyboard. A moment later the banging on her door shook her whole room and she couldn’t ignore it anymore. Returning her room to normal gravity levels, she skipped over to the door and dragged it open with a groan, allowing the obnoxious blond entrance.

“Gaara said we were going up against those bastards! What do you mean we have to fight with them so soon?”

“Naruto, everyone is a bastard according to you. Who are you talking about?”

“You know who I’m talking about, those red clouds. The Akatsuki! What are we doing messing with them when they’ve been nothing but bad news?”

Sakura reached out and ruffled the blond’s hair making Naruto cry out and pull away. “Because we’re better than them and we don’t have to be afraid of them when we do our job. What’s wrong with you? You’re never the one that wants to back off from a fight. You don’t think we can hold our own?”

Naruto reached up to push her hand away and pouted. “You know what I mean. The last time you crossed paths you got seriously hurt. What if this time you didn’t come back?”

Sakura laughed. “Who do you think you are talking to, Naruto? Maybe I did get banged up, but they always left worse off than me. Have a bit more faith.”

“I…just don’t wanna see you get hurt. Ino would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

“That’s a problem, though. You see yourself as everyone’s shied, but you’re not. You’re you, Naruto. You aren’t responsible for anyone than yourself. Don’t think you’re my keeper. I’m okay with taking on my own danger.” Sakura moved back to pull her door open wider. “Speaking of danger, your cousin should have some ready for me by now.”

“Sui-buttface just dialed in and said he was done with the one mission you assigned him. That’s the only thing she’ll tell you,” Naruto grumbled, throwing his hands behind his head and following her out.

“What about Jugo?”

Naruto shrugged. “He should be done soon, but he did leave later.”

Sakura dropped down into the common area, skipping the short ladder Naruto used. Gaara looked up from the control panel he had been working with. Karin didn’t move from he spot in front of a star map. Winking to Gaara, Sakura slid up beside Karin, throwing an arm over the red haired girl’s shoulders. Karin didn’t react or try to shove Sakura off, but she did frown.

“Do you have anything for me?”

Karin shifted her eyes over the star map. “I have a pattern, but it’s not viable until I can have it confirmed.” Karin clicked through a few buttons on the control panel and a red line bled through the stars, showing the activity of their bomber. Gold halos pinpointed areas where the supplies he would need to build his bomb were located. There were not a lot of halos.

“He’s been planning this a while, it seems.”

Karin’s face was still sour looking. “The Tri Gate races only happen every four years. He had a lot of time to get his shit together.”

Sakura climbed onto the control panel, careful to avoid stepping on the buttons, and reached out to pass her hands through the lights that made up the star map. “Can you tell me where we will be able to find him?”

Karin didn’t move. A little stunned, Sakura turned back to see her friend glaring up at her.

“Okay, what did I do? First Naruto and now you, the both of you need to cool your jets. I’m not being irrational here. It’s just a job.”

“The Akatsuki bomber should be left to handle this job. We could do it, but we’re not the ideal team. Aren’t you being a bit too…cockish with this whole move?”

Sakura bent down, but didn’t get off the ledge. “You don’t think we should be working here?”

“Not this case in particular.”

“Why?”

Karin sighed and flipped a switch on the control panel. The star chart shrunk away and was replaced with an image of what looked like a reactor. Sakura recognized the toxic warning signs easily enough.

“Part of the mission requires that the core be deactivated, but that’s not something a human body could do thanks to the weird ass star radiation.

“There’s UV and Gamma radiation on this tank,” Sakura explained, pointing out the symbols.

“Both of which we can’t get close to, so while Deidara would be ideal for finding this guy-tracking him down and bringing him to justice, Sasori would be the one who would have to go in and defuse this bad apple. The two of you have history.”

“Has he recovered enough to sustain a second android body?”

“That’s what it sounds like. You would have to fight him again, and it won’t be like last time. He’ll know you better and you might not get out with a simple puncture through the liver.”

“I thought you were going to say something scary like Madara san or Itachi kun, but I think I can handle the puppet boy.”

Karin huffed. “You’re not going to take this seriously, are you?”

“I’m always serious.”

Before anyone could say anything more, the signal for a transmission cut through and Gaara moved to answer it. Jugo’s face came on screen and Gaara took the call, recording the information details and signing out. When Karin turned back to say something to Sakura, the pink haired captain was gone. Left in her place was the floating star chart.

“I want that pattern in an hour, Karin. I plan on beating the scorpion to the goods before it comes to a fight, comprende?”

Karin tisked loudly, before jabbing at the buttons with her nails more violently. Naruto squeaked and slowly backed away.

Gaara wasn’t so timid. “How long will it take you to confirm the pattern?”

“It’s nearly done, but I won’t tell her about it for another twenty minutes.”

Gaara nodded. “Naruto and I will be dispatched to deal with Deidara. Let Suigetsu and Jugo know where they should meet us for backup.”

“We’re not sending anyone in for Sakura?”

“We can’t. She’s the only one who can withstand that sort of radiation without protection. That’s her speciality.”

Karin jabbed at something and the panel beeped angrily. “Some days I just want to kill her! Does she know how much of an ass hero she’s trying to be?”

“She can do it.”

“I don’t care!” Karin screeched. “She shouldn’t have to. We should just take the easy jobs and live as peacefully as possible in another sector where-.“

“Is this about Sasuke?”

Karin stilled, frozen stiff by Gaara’s words. Her hands were slack over the buttons and her throat was dry. She hadn’t been expecting Gaara, of all people, to be the one who brought it up. Maybe Sakura, but Gaara was the last person who could be counted not to mess with a person’s sourest wounds.

Gaara didn’t wait for her to recover. “We will not have contact with Itachi, but there is a chance Sasuke could cross our path on this mission. If you feel like you can’t operate under the-“

“I’m fine!” Karin was pure venom as she hissed out the words. “Don’t you ever bring up his name again as a means of devaluing my capabilities. I will do what I have to do and we’ll all be fine.”

Gaara didn’t move for a while, but then, hesitantly, he nodded. “Very well then. I’m going to prepare the fliers and make sure Naruto is ready to be deployed.”

Gaara got up and walked away, his footsteps fading the further he traveled, but somehow his presence never left Karin. It was as if his words were a physical force that hung over her, slowing her fingers and weighing down her breaths. She couldn’t let them do that to her. Not Gaara with his judgments, not Sasuke with his treachery, not even Sakura with her pity.

Swallowing his discomfort, Karin returned to the control panel. She would do her job and everyone would come home, safe and sound. She would bring them back home.

Such an old piece, from 2013/4 I think. I’ve no idea where it was going tbh, I just wanted an android Sasori and space angel Sakura showdown…in space.

#my writing #Sakura #writing #fic

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ilovelocust · 7 years

Text

Mirror Mirror V.2 (Part 11)

Note: This is our last foray into the past. This chapter is also only set in the past. I set it up this way because the next couple chapters wouldn’t read right if interspersed with the things that happen to Shiro in this chapter. You should have a pretty good idea about why Shiro was behaving the way he was back in the first few chapters after this.

Under a cut because this chap is 7,000 words long. I’ll be posting a link to the Ao3 chapter later today.

Warning: Rape/Non-Con (Only one scene, if you skip to the next one there will be references towards it but nothing graphic)

<< First < Next

The wonders of intergalactic medicine has never been one of Shiro’s regrets. Even in the arena, when his shattered bones became whole in mere days, forcing him back to the arena always too soon, he’d been grateful for what the healing meant for his survival. Wounds meant death and he’d wanted to live, but now, as the doctor clears him for return to Keith’s care, he wishes his injuries had not mended so quickly. Barely a couple days have passed since his near death experience, and he is already sentenced to the tortures of his cell once more. This is a hell without escape.

Two guards drag him from the medical cot. Escort him at the point of their rifles, from the meager reprieve provided by the medical wing. They are not taking him to his cell, not yet. First he must be judged, his punishment handed down, they are taking him to the Prince.

Keith is waiting for him in the bedroom he’s kept when not in the cell. Sitting on the edge of the bed with fingers steepled. Shiro is thrust to his knees before him, head forcibly bowed. The guards snap to attention, ‘Verpit Sa’, then leave just as quickly as the came. Shiro keeps his head down, eyes on the floor. There is nothing he can do, nothing he can say, to avoid his fate.

“Your stubbornness nearly got you killed,” Keith says, standing to circle him. Don’t flinch, don’t shake, fear will only make him angrier, “Tell me, have you learned your lesson?” Keith asks. He can’t give the Prince the answer he wants. The near murder was an accident. He doubts Keith will repeat it, which means nothing has changed. He’s still weighing his own pain versus an innocent’s life. He’s not desperate enough to be forced into that trade yet. Shiro stays silent.

Silence isn’t an acceptable response, “Answer me!” Keith shouts, grabbing his hair and pulling back his head, “Did you learn your lesson?” Keith snarls. There is no way to win.

“No, sir,” Shiro says, stronger than he is. He braces for a hit, for Keith to call back the guards and order him to his cell. He can’t stop this. He’s helpless to the whims of a maniac. The expected blow doesn’t come.

Keith lets go of his hair. Shiro bows his head again, waits. Keith sighs. Socked feet pad to the head of the bed, the mattress squeaks, “Come here,” An order, still angry, but not enraged.

Shiro looks up. Keith’s back is to the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. He’s patting the spot beside him. A mirror image of a scene played out on many nights before. Expectations are clear.

Shiro climbs onto the bed, crawls towards him, and lays his head in Keith’s lap. As soon as he’s settled, a hand begins to card through his hair, “Good boy,” Keith says, “At least you still listen to me in some things.” He sounds tired. Shiro’s muscles relax in response. He should be on guard, trying to figure out what’s going on, but he’s been in so much pain for so long. He can’t resist the soft touch. The promise of some kindness.

“What am I going to do with you, Takashi?” Keith sighs. Speaking out loud, not a question seeking a response. Shiro keeps his mouth shut, and enjoys the scratch of nails against his scalp. If left alone, he could sleep like this.

“You know I can’t let you do whatever you want. It’s important that you obey me.” Keith says, like he’s a dog that peed on the carpet instead of a human he refused to participate in cold blood murder. Keith’s fingers drift down from Shiro’s scalp to tap against his chest, right above his heart, “Don’t think just because you nearly died, you’re getting out of things. You are still going into the arena.” Keith dashes his newly bloomed hopes. He’s so stupid. After Keith’s freak out and how his affectionate side had come back so suddenly, he thought, he thought maybe ideas of the arena had been abandoned. He’s such an idiot.

“But circumstances have convinced me that maybe it was unwise to rush you right back into things.” Keith says, going back to his ministrations, “Some have suggested that it might be best to ease you into being the Champion again. Start with beasts and we can work our way back up to prisoners. How does that sound?” Like delaying the inevitable. Putting off the punishment for refusal until a later date, all while providing amusement for bloodthirsty spectators. Still animals are preferable to scared prisoners. Turning down the opportunity for rest would be foolish. He isn’t going to get a better offer.

“Like a good idea, sir,” Shiro replies, closing his eyes. No better options.

Keith claps his hands together, scattering what little calmness Shiro had gained, “Perfect, we’ll start as soon as the doctor’s say you’re ready.”

Shiro gets a few days to sleep in a real bed before the guards come for him.

No restraints, no pointed weaponry, just two escorts ushering him down an unfamiliar path. He isn’t guided to the arena or even one of the preparation rooms for the gladiators. Keith is waiting for him in a chamber used for a smaller sort of spectated fights.

The room is dominated by the fighting ring. A large square of cleared space surrounded by sturdy partial walls. They are a bit tall for him to view over comfortably, but the average Galra would have no issue. Slots in the ceiling conceal a barrier that can be pulled down if a fight threatens to spill over into the watching crowd.

There are no crowds at the moment. Keith’s only allowed the bare minimum personnel necessary for the fight to take place. Was the Prince worried his unwillingness to fight would leave to a unsatisfactory performance? He seems the type to be concerned about witnesses damaging the Champion’s reputation. Maybe he will be spared the arena after all. Maybe, if he shows a lack of suitable blood thirst, he’ll never have to hear the deafening roar of a thousand alien tongues screaming the name ‘Champion’ again.

Keith waves him over. The Prince is opposite him perched on a dividing wall with a perfect view to see the fight in all its gory detail. Shiro walks to the nearest divider and hops over. Keith will read the move as eagerness, please him into believing this was the right division. On his way over, Shiro is forced to skirt a shaking cage watched by a wary handler, his opponent probably. A cloth is thrown over the cage, obscuring most of the creature from view, but a slimy black tentacle is wrapped around one of the bars and some sort of limb ending in a sharp point keeps stabbing the ground in front of it. He’s never seen something like this before. It’s probably deadly.

Keith smiles, as Shiro stops in front of him. Fingers cup his cheek, feather soft. Keith is getting what he wants, he’s always sweet when he gets what he wants, “Ready for your fight, Champion?” Keith asks.

Shiro bristles at the name, but doesn’t protest. Smaller venue or no, he’s still going to shed blood for their amusement. These are the acts that branded him with that title, “Yes, my Prince,” Shiro says, stiffly dipping his head.

“Good,” Keith says, viciously pleased, “I’ve found the most interesting creature for you today. The V’loks call it a Sqauch. Silly name for such a deadly creature, but what can you expect from the lesser races,” Keith waves his hands, “It should provide you an adequate challenge.” Keith gives him a light shove towards the center of the ring, “Now go, remind me of what you can do.” Shiro goes with the movement, turns and walks to his starting position.

The handler is watching him, waiting for his signal to start the match. Shiro nods, he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

The handler kicks the cage, exciting the monster inside. Loud gurgling noises spill out, the shaking within growing so fierce the edges of the container lift off the ground. Satisfied, the handler pull the cloth free and hits the release button for the door in one fluid movement. He hightails it out of there ring before the creature can spring free. He needn’t have hurried, the thing only has eye stalks for Shiro. Generously, the alien could be called a spider the size of a large dog, with a razor toothed octopus for a mouth, and eyestalks pointed every which way. Not so generously, it was a freak of nature that Keith should have left in whatever hell hole he found it in.

The animal bends its legs, flaring its tentacles in a gurgling hiss, before leaping towards him. Shiro dives to the side. The thing hasn’t charged like a normal beast, only jumped. Possibly its main mode of locomotion when hunting?

It didn’t need a moment to catch its bearings, already coiling for another pounce as its feet touched the ground. It’s much closer this time and Shiro barely has enough time to scramble out of the way, he needs to attack back on the next move or he is going to get skewered by the points of it’s sharp legs.

Except another jump isn’t coming, one of the thing’s tentacles has wrapped around the fingers on his right hand. He’s too slow on the uptake, he hasn’t had any time to train since being captured. The beast pulls swinging its momentum around to throw itself at Shiro. Stabbing at him with the sharp points of its legs before he can block.

Pain slices his sides and flesh arm as he activates his prosthetic. Burning heat forcing the creature to let go. A gargling shriek, the thing pushes off with it’s hind legs putting distance between the two of them. He’s lucky, so lucky one of those blows didn’t go pierce his stomach. He should have turned his arm on the second he felt something touch it. This used to be instinct. Focus. Should haves later. Fight now.

The thing is gurgling to itself, focused in on its burn, patting at it with the other tentacles. Freak of nature it may be but still an animal. First thought of a predator, when the prey fights back, is to find easier prey. It hadn’t held on and fight until Shiro was a pincushion, so it was exotic enough to be poorly trained. Still running on basics instincts, more than what entertains the audience. It will be back momentarily, but he has precious time to prepare.

He’s had several jumps to figure out the limits of this creatures range. He backs up until he’s on the higher end. Here he’ll have more time to respond when attacked. Carefully he crouches down and hides his right arm behind his bulk. The thing was probably smart enough to realize the difference between the parts of him that hurt to touch and those that didn’t. He needed it to think he was a good target for another head on attack.

There is a sharp whistle from the handler on the sidelines, and the thing stops tending its burn and focuses back in on Shiro. Good. It bends its knees again and lets out another gurgling hiss. Then it is leaping across the distance between them. Gotcha. Shiro’s smiles. Springing forward himself. Ducking under the arc of it sharp legs, he brings his glowing purple of his arm up through its abdomen.

The thing shrieks. Shiro rips his arm out of its carapace, then plunges it back in closer to the head. No way to be certain where what passes for a brain is in this thing, but do enough damage and anything will eventually die. He stabs it several more times for good measure. Alien gore spraying up to coat him with each new wound. Adrenalin sings in his veins, shouting his triumph and survival, as the thing twitches once more before going still. Victory is a high like no other. At least, until he hears the clapping.

Clap, clap, clap, Keith is applauding with absolute glee from his perch. Shiro’s stomach plummets. He’s torn from the place of base survival, to be reminded exactly what he’s been doing. What a good little attack dog he is. A little violence, and he forgets all his distastes.

Keith laughs, waving him over, “Come here, come here, let me appreciate you,” Keith yells. Shiro’s feet are stone. Rooted to the earth with shame, but he pulls them loose and follows the call of his master. He’d wanted to please the Prince, convince him to accept this smaller show, and now he’s pleased. No one to blame but himself.

Keith pulls him into a kiss, open mouthed and dirty. Hands curl in his hair as a tongue traces his teeth. Shiro is a dead fish, doing little more than limply letting Keith take whatever he wants. Keith doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, he never does. A harsh bite to his lower lip, and Shiro is released.

Hungry purple eyes look down on him, “Mmmm, you did so well, pet. Less than a minute between introduction ‘till kill. You always know how to please,” Keith wraps his legs around Shiro’s torso then drops down, forcing him to catch and support him. Keith is hard, turned on from watching him fight. Keith’s crotch rubs against Shiro as he leans in for another kiss. The guards are watching, the handler is watching. They have an audience, and the Prince doesn’t seem to care.

Keith pulls back, hands plucking at Shiro’s gore stained shirt, “It’s in your blood. Drop you into a fight and you just can’t help yourself,” Keith purrs. Pressing their foreheads together, letting his breath mingling with Shiro’s. Please no, please not here, in front of everyone. They know, they all have to know, the Prince has never been subtle, but…but…

“I think you deserve a reward,” Keith presses close, whispers in his ear, “Take me back to the room, and I’ll give you one.”

Relief floods his system, there won’t be a public display. He won’t be used in front of gossiping guards. Humiliation layered upon every else…but it’s still going to happen, “I’m tired,” Words spilling from his lips before he can think, “From the fight,” A poor excuse, but it doesn’t imply he’s unwilling in general. That he’s trying to deny the Prince, “It might be best that I rest.” He nearly died recently, and Keith seems to care about his physical well being, when he isn’t angry with him.

“Truly?” Keith asks with a small frown.

Shiro tries to looks as exhausted as possible, “Yes,” He nods.

Keith pushes at Shiro’s arms until he sets him on the ground, “Then I will just have to do all the work tonight,” Keith leans up and gives him a peck on the cheek, grabbing his hand to pull him along behind him, “Don’t worry, pet. You did very well today, and you will receive your reward.”

Keith presses a cloth bag into Shiro’s hands, “Clean yourself out, then come back,” A hungry smirk, appraising eyes, undressing him with a look, “Don’t touch the blood. You look so much better in color.”

Keith leaves him alone in the bathroom, Shiro empties the bag. A strange oblong device, a little bottle of lube, and a data slate explaining the use of both. How thoughtful. The giggles wrong in his throat. Breathe.

He can do this, he’s done this before. Not since his capture, not since his cell. The Prince has been too impatient for anything more than his hands or mouth, but he’s done this for Keith before, with different tools in a different place. This isn’t new.

The instructions are simple, he follows with slow hands, flushes, repeats. He doesn’t hurry, but there is only so long he can drag the process out. Eventually he has to go back to the bedroom, back to Keith.

Shiro opens the door, enters the room. Keith is waiting for him, sprawled out on the mattress. His pants pulled down just far enough that his leaking dick can stand tall and proud. Keith watches him, hand slowly jacking off on full display. He hasn’t seen him like this lately. As far as Keith has been concerned, tending to his needs is what Shiro’s mouth is for, but not right now, no orders to fold to his knees leave Keith’s lips. He just plays with himself, little shuddery moans escaping here and there, while Shiro looks on. Another setting, he could have been seductive.

Keith comes all over his hand with a gasp. Hardly an afterglow, before he’s wrinkling his nose at the mess, holding it out for Shiro, “Clean this off for me, will you pet?” Keith asks. Finally Shiro moves, sitting beside the Prince, taking his hand in his own. Obediently he begins. The briny taste sits disgustingly on his tongue. Lick, swallow, lick, until every finger is clean. A predator’s eyes watch him, preparing to tear him apart, “So good for me,” Keith praises, petting his hair, “Now strip and lay down, you won’t have to do anything else tonight.” Except pretend he doesn’t want to claw his own skin off. Pretend he wants him. Nothing more except that.

His clothes drop to the floor, Keith plasters himself to his back as soon as his shirt is off. Fingers running down his abs to trace one of the barely closed cuts from the beast. Why always his wounds? Shiro’s fingers don’t want to cooperate as he undoes his pants. Keith grows impatient, tears them off himself before pushing Shiro back on the bed, “Just relax, Takashi,” Keith says, kneeding the tense muscles of his stomach, “I’m going to take care of you.” Keith promises. He knows, that’s what he’s scared of.

A bottle of lube comes from somewhere, colorful label decorated with alien words. He’s drifting. He needs to stop, stay present. Keith will be mad if he doesn’t. A tap to his inner thigh, Shiro spreads his thighs. Rough cloth brushes between them. Keith settling. Pop, goes the lube bottle. The metal of the ceiling has imperfections, small ones barely noticeable. How odd, that a room belonging to a Prince would have flaws, “You’re so tense,” Keith says, too far away, Shiro comes backs, “Are you nervous?”

“Yes,” Shiro lies.

“Don’t worry,” Keith says, a kiss against his chest, “I know how to get you to relax.” A slick hand wraps around his dick, Shiro gasps. “After this you’ll be nice and loose for me.” He never touches him right, but he doesn’t need to. The warm wet channel of Keith’s hand is enough, Shiro’s hips thrust up on their own.

“Besides it’s only fair we both get to come before the fun really starts. Makes things last longer.” Keith whispers conspiratorially. Shiro can only moan, as Keith takes over the pace. Wringing pleasure from him, with a too tight touch. His own nails digging into his palms with pin point pain, something to ground, something to keep everything locked inside. Keith pushes and pushes, until he pushes him right off the edge. Shiro shudders, cries out as his cum splatters his stomach.

A haze, with Keith’s smile floating above him, “Feel better?” Keith asks. He can’t trust his own voice, so he just nods. It’s enough, “Good,” Keith says, “Now we can get started.”

More lube drizzled on his fingers, reaching between his legs. Shiro squeezes his eyes shut, then throws them back open at the first breach. It doesn’t hurt. It wouldn’t. Keith wants him to enjoy himself. This would be so much easier if it hurt.

Keith takes his time. Works him open slowly on one finger. Stay relaxed. Don’t tense. Clenching will only slow things down. The faster he’s prepared, the sooner this will be over. Another is added.

Keith starts to explore, pressing against his walls as he stretches. Shiro’s breath stutters, Keith finds what he’s looking for. Little sparks of pleasure, too soon for his soft dick, but the Prince still notices, “There?” Keith asks.

Shiro nods, and Keith pushes harder. Stop. He gasps against the sensation. Keith chuckles, “Still so sensitive.”

By the third finger, he’s recovered, twitching cock beginning to swell. No break, no relief. He’ll go until his captor is satisfied. Fingers slip free, leaving him open, an invitation he can’t revoke.

“You know, I’d almost forgotten how much better it is to fuck you after a fight,” Keith explores his torn flesh with his tongue. Wet trail around barely scabbed wounds, leaving their cooling mark long after the owner is gone.

“You’re so gorgeous and vicious, cutting down your enemies with ease, like the war gods of old.” What he did in the arena was nothing like a God of War. Enemy soldiers didn’t compare to scared prisoners, longing for stolen homes.

“Makes me want to drag you down and wreck you. Pin all that muscle to the sands, and make you scream with pleasure until you’re hoarse.” Keith grabs Shiro’s hair to hold him still as he licks a stripe up his cheek through the drying alien blood. He can see it, in his mind’s eye. The spectators would watch and cheer, Keith would laugh, white teeth flashing. Steaming corpses close enough for him to gag.

“Mmm, fighting even makes you taste good.” Keith smacks his lips and sits back on his haunches. It’s time, no more delays, “You know pet. If I’m going to do all the work, you should have to do the talking.” Of course, his silence wouldn’t be permitted. Not for long. His part to play demands he participate. Keith slicks up his own cock and shoves a pillow under Shiro’s hips.

“While I fuck you, you’re going to tell me a story, about how you got this scar,” He can’t be serious. This, this was supposed to be a reward. What mind thinks reliving his fights would be pleasurable, but there is no hesitation or question in his voice. Keith points to a broad slice from the top of his shoulder down across his collar bone. He remembers that one, the pain of receiving it. He’d thought he was going to die.

“Don’t look like that, pet,” Keith pats his cheek, “I know talking isn’t your strong point, but I won’t judge a bare bones story. Besides you can’t expect me to do everything, the least you can do is a bit of dirty talk.” He was. Keith was actually going to make him do this.

“Yes sir,” Shiro whispers, his voice so small a mouse could swallow it.

“Good,” Keith stares at him expectantly, waves his hand for Shiro to begin, “Go ahead pet, tell me of bloody conquest.”

Shiro licks his lips. Remember why he’s doing this. There are worse things than painful memories, “It was one of my early matches, before I lost my arm,” While he speaks, Keith pushes his legs further apart, the head of his dick running down Shiro’s perineum to press against his rim, “The guy I was fighting was big-Agh!” Keith pushes in, it hurts. Too much too fast, forcing Shiro to take him to the hilt in one long slide. No time to accommodate.

“Keep going,” Keith growls.

Don’t stop. Don’t make him mad. Just push through. The stretch burns, “He was big, and he had-ah,” Keith pulls back and thrusts in again, “a big sword. Oh,” Keith wraps his already slick hand around Shiro’s dick. Too much, too much everything, threatening to drag him under.

“All they gave me was a, was a, fucking spear,” Fear had churned in his gut as he entered the arena. His opponent towered over even the guards, a monster carved of metal and flesh. His sword alone standing taller Shiro. A mouse against a cat, he was going to die, “The spear didn’t make it aaaa minute. He just reach-ah fuck,” Shiro’s whole body arches as Keith finds that spot. He hits it again on the next thrust and again and again. His hand jacking Shiro off harder and faster. Building. Too much, pleasure, fear. He wants to wretch. It’s all he can do to gasp in air.

“Did I say you could stop talking?” Keith gives a particularly harsh thrust, hurt to drag him back, “Keep telling your story Takashi. You had a spear.”

His story, keep speaking, “Spear, I had a spear, but he-ah-broke it. Wi-with one hand just snapped it.” Like a twig in a fist bigger than his head. He’d been given a toy, and he wasn’t going to make it. Never see home again, “He swung his sword at me. I barely got out of the way. I almost di-ah-died.” A twist and he is so close. Little drips of pre-cum dropping down to his stomach. Why does he have to be so easy for the Prince. Keith removes his hand before he comes. Good, bad, loss. Shiro’s shaking, crying out from being left so high.

“After,” Keith pants, patting this flank, “Keep going.”

Remember, just finish, “There was a boulder, I slipped behind it,” Keith’s thrusts are growing ragged, less precise, less sickening jolts of pleasure, easier to think, “I kept it between us until I could circle ba-ack for my weapon.” Keith digs his nails into Shiro’s hip and yelling. Bowing under the force of his orgasm. Sticky cum deep inside. It’s over.

It’s not. Keith’s hand wraps around his dick again. Dragging him over the cliff too. Pleasure spilling over his stomach, before dropping him into free fall. No after glow, just a panting sticky mess, used once more.

Keith rolls off him, catches his breath slowly, “So, how did you get the scar?” Keith asks.

“He dropped his sword on me when he died,” A lucky hit, jabbed deep into a chink of his armor. He’d collapsed where he stood. His sword toppling on top of Shiro, as he fell.

“Seriously?” Disbelieving, disappointed. His Prince is turned on by close calls and slaughter, not humiliating accidents.

“It was a big sword,” Shiro says. The guards had laughed as they dragged him to the medical wing. Champion too small to lift his opponent’s sword, they’d said. Keith sighs, rolling off the bed. Uses Shiro’s shirt to wipe himself clean of cum, before straighting his clothes.

“The rest of the night is yours to rest as you see fit, Champion,” Keith says, “Do with it as you please.” A final peck to his lips, maybe regret at having to leave, then Shiro is alone in the room.

Shiro walks to the bathroom. He empties his stomach.

Several more fights pass against increasingly bizarre and dangerous beast. Keith’s lust for him after each fight doesn’t abate, but he seems to be satisfied at having Shiro on his knees. He doesn’t request a repeat performance of the first night, not yet.

He also starts to grant rewards that Shiro actually enjoys. He’s allowed back into the observatory, and Keith has a small training room cleaned out for his use. He gives Shiro small gifts, things he’s always surprised to find out he likes.

Like this one, Keith’s brought a box full of round bread balls back to the room after Shiro’s most recent fight. The Prince is radiating excitement. Leaning close as Shiro pulls one of the balls out of the bag. Practically vibrating in his eagerness. Shiro sniffs, the smell is like nothing he knows. Neither off putting or appealing in its strangeness.

Warily he takes a small bite. It’s good. It’s really good. Like a cupcake of some unknown flavor, sweet and warm. Shiro quickly pops the rest of the ball in his mouth, hoards the box close, lest it be taken. A silly thought, but there has been a persistent itch of anticipation since his fight, like he’s still waiting for the final blow.

Keith grins, triumphant, “See, I told you that you would enjoy them,” Keith says, “I know what you like.” He preens. Shiro nods, hunches as he eats another. Keith pats him on the shoulder and moves to his regular spot by the headboard. Pulling out his tablet to read whatever he reads on that thing.

That means he just wants to cuddle tonight. Where all he expects Shiro to do is act like an over sized cat. Curl up against Keith’s legs, until the Prince grows bored and leaves. This is as close to safe and cared for as he gets in this place, so why can’t he relax? His muscles have remained tight, since the last beasts death. A buzz like the bare edge of adrenalin running under his skin. He should be enjoying his reprieve, but instead he seeks danger in shadows.

He’s eaten a quarter of the box, when a ringing permeates the room. Someone wants permission to enter. He hardly ever hears the sound. Keith and the guards don’t care if he wants them inside or not. When he’s alone, anyone that wants him just walks in and drags him out. The door only rings when the Prince is inside with him. Keith’s underlings would never dare interrupt his time with his slave unannounced.

“Come in,” Keith calls.

The door opens, and a guard marches in. Shiny armor, hard clacking boots, coming closer, closer, stopping in front of him. He’s armed. Baton at the ready, to beat and break. Shiro tightens his grip on the box, muscles tensing. Guards and Keith, horrible things come from them. In this room, together, they mean pain. Being thrown to floor before being dragged to his cell.

The guard salutes, “Your guests have arrived, my Prince.”

“I see. Dismissed. Pet-” Shiro doesn’t hear the rest of Keith’s words. The guard is turning, meeting his eyes. One of his hands is moving towards him. He’s going to grab Shiro, hit him. Shiro moves first. Burning him open with the glowing purple heat of his arm. The guard reels back screaming. He won’t let him-

“TAKASHI!” Keith shouts. Shiro turns, Keith’s face is contorted with rage. No, no, no, don’t be angry with him.

There is a click and Shiro whirls around. The guard has drawn his rifle. Shiro splinters it in his hand. He grabs the guard by the front of the armor. One blow through the throat and the threat is gone.

“Put him down now!” Keith yells, and suddenly he’s by Shiro’s shoulder, so so furious. Shiro drops the guard and backs away. Keith follows him. He didn’t, the guard was coming for him. A fist coming for his face, crystal clear. He was protecting himself. Shiro’s back hits the wall. On the ground, a boot colliding with his ribs, no pain. He slides to his knees holding his head. He’s getting dizzy, breathing too fast. He doesn’t want to go back to his cell. Sizzling prod, burning flesh. There is a whining noise, high pitched, keening. It’s coming from him.

Crack, Shiro’s head snaps to the side. His cheek hurts with real pain, will probably bruise. He looks up. Keith’s back handed him, “Get a hold of yourself,” Keith spits.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro whimpers. Keith drags him up by his hair, another hit, his other cheek stings.

“You are the Champion,” Keith snarls, banging his head against the wall in emphasis, “This is not how you behave.” Keith isn’t angry anymore. He’s disgusted, as if Shiro was something foul he’d stepped in.

Keith let’s go of his hair and Shiro sinks back down, shaking. “Pick yourself up,” Him? No, the injured guard scrambles to his feet, “I will be back for you later.” Keith directs at him.

He’s left like that. Alone, shivering on the floor.

He doesn’t see Keith for the rest of the night. At some point he stands, grabs a pillow, a blanket, and cocoons himself in the shower stall. It’s the smallest most secure place he has access to. The most doors between him and the rest of the world in the suite, and not a single lock among them. The barrier won’t stop anyone for coming for him. Barging in, tearing him from his hiding place, but the comfort of the hard walls is enough that eventually a fitful sleep takes him away.

He’s still there when Keith comes for him. Multiple boots, he’s not alone, “Takashi!” Keith shouts. He’s still angry. Shiro scrambles out of his blankets and into the room proper, before Keith can find him and add to his list of offenses. It doesn’t matter. Keith takes one look at him and sneers. “Come, you are going to fight a criminal today,” Keith says.

“What?” Shiro takes an unintentional step back.

Keith notices the sign of weakness and his nostrils flare. He strides over to Shiro, grabs his shirt, drags him a stumbling forwards, “I’ve pandered to you far too much. Spoiled you soft,” Keith’s shorter but he’s looking down on him, “Made you weak, Champion, but no further. You will fight. You will kill.”

“I won’t,” He’ll go back to his cell first.

“That’s not a choice you get to make,” Keith snaps. He motions and three guards step forward.

Shiro tries to stop them, but they came prepared. A few shocks and gauntleted punches later, his wrists are locked behind his back. They haul him from the room. They aren’t taking him to his cell. He’s dragged down the path the chamber. The one where they make him fight animals. No.

The ring looks different from the last time he was here. The barriers have been pulled down. A clear pane separates the crowd from the combatants, and for once there is a crowd. No one is here without purpose, but Keith has posted a number of guards throughout the room. He won’t be breaking free.

Keith leaves to sit in a proper raised chair. A Prince’s seat, no casual view of a beloved slave. Shiro is guided to a hole in the wall and shoved through. There is a bang as the gate is closed behind him. Locking him in. The restraints fall off his arms with a click.

There are no exits. No way out unless he is let out. The other slave. Criminal, Keith said. Is standing across from him. He’s not the biggest Shiro has ever been forced to fight. He looks a bit like a crocodile raised up on two legs, biceps the size of Shiro’s thighs. He’s been given a club. Terrible weapon compared to Shiro’s arm. This isn’t a fair fight, not for the alien. He’ll die, unless Shiro can convince him to not go along with this.

There is no starting bell. His opponent just charges. Shiro side steps the blow. No time, dodge, get space to breathe. He has more experience. Swing after swing whiffs past him, allowing him to circle the other. Moving until his back is no longer to the wall. Then the first hit connects. A block against the metal of his arm, but it sends him stumbling back. His shoulder ringing. Nothings torn, but if he tries that too many times he’s going to lose use of that arm. Without his prosthetic, he’s as good as dead.

He can’t get enough space to talk. His opponent pushes without pause. Taking up all his spare breath to keep one step ahead of the crushing blows. He feels the air whoosh above his hair as he avoids a kill shot by a hair’s width. He’s never going to be able to talk this guy down. He’s not tiring out, not slowing for even a moment. The longer he delays the more close calls will come. If he doesn’t fight back, he’s going to die.

It’s a cold shift. Switching gears, goals. Letting himself drop into the mindset that keeps him alive. Shiro moves forward instead of back on the guy’s next attack. Slicing across the thing’s thigh, deep enough to slow. Good. A cheer rises from the watching guards, irrelevant. His next attack follows the first and would have gone up through the alien’s brain pan, if he hadn’t moved backwards at just the right time. The aliens gets away with a cut through the bone of his massive jaw. Extremely painful but not fatal. Shiro goes for his hand next, forcing him to let go of his club. The creature reacts with the rake of a clawed hand, but Shiro dances out of reach.

He circles his foe, deciding on the next route for his next strike. The creature turns with him letting out a roar, and Shiro charges before he can finish. He’s not stupid like the others. Shiro veers off to the side at the last second, avoiding the blow waiting for him and putting himself past his opponent. Shiro spins around and his opponent’s injured leg hampers him. He can’t turn fast enough to stop Shiro from getting a clear shot at his back. A single running blow and Shiro puts his hand through the back of the alien’s neck. Dead, sentients don’t fight without their heads.

The room breaks out in applause, just like every time before. Cold dissipates, survival finished. He comes back to himself, and wishes he’d stayed away. Shiro doesn’t panic. Even when the corpse falls off his hand with a sucking pop. He stands and waits for the guards to collect him.

They don’t recuff him. Somehow knowing that there isn’t any point, he won’t fight. He’s their pet monster. How could he have ever thought something different.

Keith wraps himself around Shiro as soon as he’s out of the ring. Smiling and touching, “See, things go so well when you do as your told,” Keith says, “I really should have done this sooner.” Shiro doesn’t respond.

Keith chatters the whole walk back. Shiro adds in a mechanical ‘Yes, my prince’ or ‘No, my prince’, when prompted, bu he doesn’t listen. He’s done it again. He’s killed someone who had no choice in the matter to preserve his own miserable life. Maybe that was why this was all happening. Keith had finally realized what a pathetic creature he was, and decided to treat him like one.

They enter his room, Keith presses him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He promises to be back in a moment with something that Shiro doesn’t catch the name of. Shiro nods vaguely, and when he’s left alone, stares down at his gore splattered hand. He has sensation in his prosthetic. As detailed and accurate as that in his flesh. He’d felt the bone give, almost melt against his hand. The liquid of the alien’s blood bubbling around his fingers at his super heated touch boiled him from the inside out. He activates his arm, lets the purple glow burn away the blood coating its surface. As if removing the evidence could make him forget. As if anything could make him forget.

Clatter, crash. Shiro looks up, Keith’s staring at him with wide wide eyes. “How could you,” Keith breathes, “Guards!” There is an explosions of movement, guards pouring through the door, “Take him to his cell,” Keith orders, pointing at him. Shiro doesn’t struggle as they pull him to his feet. He’s a murderer, he deserves this. Keith grabs his chin, pulls his face close, “I told you. You aren’t allowed to leave me.” Keith snarls, lets him go. The guards escort him out.

. . .

He doesn’t know how to make the pain stop. Keith won’t listen to him. The Prince has made him promise over and over not to leave, but every time he refuses to believe his words. Hurts him more, makes him promise again.

Keith’s caressing his tools, considering his next option for extracting the thing he won’t accept. There is the prod, brought back with little concern for Shiro’s health. A razor bladed knife, that cuts so clean he doesn’t even feel the pain until Keith digs his fingers in, and his lighter, with its small steady flame to hold against his flesh. Keith chooses the lighter. Not again, please not again.

Keith holds the flame under his flesh hand, lets the tongues lick up to burn his fingers. Shiro screams. Under the pain a tingling begins, it persists even as Keith pulls away. Growing in intensity, crawling up his limbs. He’s dying. His heart is giving out. Too much strain. Will he remember what it feels like this time? His vision’s blurring, sounds dissipating behind a roar in his ears. Keith is saying something, but he can’t understand. Everything goes white…

"Shiro! Shiro! No, please no," Keith's voice is panicked. Hands surprisingly gentle on his abused body. He must be worried he'd broken his favorite toy again. Shiro’d laugh, but he'd hurt himself more than he’d annoy his captor.

"Lance, get the healing pod ready! Hunk, help me move him!" Hunk? Lance? Why is Keith giving them orders? They aren't here. No one is here, yet the Blue and Yellow paladin’s answers are unmistakable. Darkness is comforting, promising safety if he only lets it drag him under once again, but confusion lures his eyes open. High arching ceilings, pale grey walls, and undertones of light blue. He blinks, but the mirage doesn't evaporate. Shiro is in the Castle of the Lions.

Next >

#sheith #shiro #keith #voltron #Mirror Mirror #My fic

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saintheartwing · 7 years

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Fallout is the Bomb

I can't believe I've only brushed over this series before. There was a whole, beautiful, irradiated world to explore within its boundaries that I never knew of! Lemme explain. Fallout is, well, post-apocalyptic. That alone had me worried. I'm not a big fan of the post-apocalyptic setting because of how it essentially gets so misanthropic, and assumes everyone turns into the kinda scumbags you'd see in "Violence Jack". The good news is that Fallout actually has a sort of "out". You see, in all of the series...well, most of it, anyway...you play as a Vault Dweller, someone who was sealed away along with others in big, social experiments set up by the government before a great war between China and the USA over resources that ended in nuclear fire. The Vaults have everything you'd need to survive for decades, even centuries! But not for all of them. You need to leave your Vault eventually, either to get a much needed Water Chip that will ensure your people can survive, or to find the "Garden of Eden Creation Kit", or you're forced to leave because the head of your Vault is a big fat jerk, or you leave because your SON has left the vault long before you while you were essentially frozen in suspended animation, and you've gotta track them down. In New Vegas, it's different, but I'll get to that later. Fallout 1 and 2 introduced the factions that basically dominate the universe. The Brotherhood of Steel, who sealed themselves away and hoard technology, hoping to someday come back up and revive the best of mankind in better days. The Super Mutants, mutated humans infected by a virus made by a lunatic who thought that as long as there were differences of ANY kind in humans, we'd keep tearing each other apart. Hence, why not make a race where everyone looks and sounds basically the same, AND is super strong, AND can easily withstand the radiation-filled wastes that fill America? There's the Enclave, the remnants of the previous government, heads of corporations, the rich and powerful, who helped MAKE the Vaults, and who basically think any life that's out on the Earth at the moment isn't really human because their DNA isn't like the "old world" humans anymore. Even if it just means people just have an extra toe or the like, they think you're a subhuman mutant as bad as the two-headed, skinless cows that now walk around. There's Ghouls, people who are heavily bombed to s--t, their skin burned off, looking like they've been flayed alive and yet linger on, some who are very intelligent and still retain their personality, others who are feral and twisted and evil. And then there's the NCR, the New California Republic, founded by war heroes and remnants of the army who are trying to sort of rebuild America or at least, what it stood for, out primarily on the West Coast. Their leadership's too concerned with bureaucracy and the amount of red tape and incompetence can be a real issue, but you can clearly tell most of them, the soldiers included, are just trying to stick together and do as much good with as many people as possible. In the first two games, it's a sort of isometric perspective. In the third, it switched to a sort of first person shooter mechanic, and the series has kept it like that, with RPG elements throughout. You have "perks", abilities like being able to carry a ton more, being able to avoid fighting with wild animals because they all like you, having a random, mysterious, gun-toting stranger randomly pop up to help...and you can choose how you want your character to look and act, like in most open world games. Now, which one is the best? I'm not sure for everyone, but for me? New Vegas is the best blend of old school and new. You play a courier who's lived out in the Wasteland. It was your job to deliver a "Platinum Chip" to Las Vegas or, as it's now called, New Vegas. But you got caught by some fancy dressed mobsters, shot and left for dead. It didn't stick. Now you wanna find that Chip, find out WHY it's so important, who the hell killed you, and maybe...or rather, most LIKELY...get revenge. There's a problem, though. For one, you don't know where the mobsters went. And you've got to contend with raiders, the NCR who aren't sure if they can trust you, wild mutated animals, and everything in between. AND...a new, Roman-themed faction that's raping and pillaging every town they find, selling the women into slavery and following a mad lunatic named Caesar. And I do mean Roman-themed, they wear Roman armor, have centurions, the whole shebang. The Legion's boss, Caesar, actually gives a damning condemnation of Democracy in the game. After all, it was Democracy and electing the idiots that were in the govt that cared more about the Red Scare than people having fresh water to drink that led to the war. Might makes right. The good news is you can play someone who's both good and bad, someone who's a blend. There's not merely morality, but "reputation". You can have a good reputation with the Brotherood, but be HATED by the NCR. Or idolized by the NCR and despised by the Legion. If you're smart enough, or charming enough, or have the right perks, you can talk your way out of almost anything, or, if you've the skill, blow the beejbus outta anyone you want with a ROCKET LAUNCHER! HAHAHAHA! KIBBLES AND BITS! It's fun watching baddies explode. And there's a lot of funny moments too. Take, for example, a subquest at the Atomic Wrangler, as you try to earn money to gain access to New Vegas, for you need 2000 bottle caps to get in, and that means you need to either sell a lot of highly valuable stuff...which you probably don't have...or you've gotta get dirty and do things like be a pimp for a whorehouse. Which I had to. The boss says we need a ghoul cowboy, a charming older lover, and a sexbot. Then when you tell him you've got the sexbot, he's all giddy like a schoolkid, making it abundantly clear the sexbot was for HIM. Which he tries in vain to pretend isn't true. And of course, the guy who shot you has a talking droid. Because of course he does. His name is Yes Man. When you tell Yes Man you're the Courier his boss shot? Yes Man: Hahaha! I know that's not true, because you still have a head!

Courier: I'm serious.

Yes Man: Hahaha! That's... not funny... you getting shot in the head. I really shouldn't have taken so much pride in how I set that up, huh? ... I feel really bad right now. Yes Man has a lot of great lines. Oh, and did I mention Elvis Impersonators run a good chunk of the Strip? Because of COURSE they do. Of COURSE they do. Guess what they have to say about their HQ? "Near as I can tell, it was some sort of religious institution. Oh, I know it says "school" out front, but everything in here seems to be related to the worship of some guy from back in the day. People used to come here to learn about him, to dress like him, to move like him. To BE him. If that's not worship, I don't know what is." Hey, if you're gonna imitate ANYBODY, why NOT the King? And yes, in Camp Searchlight...deep breaths... THERE IS...a set of HOLY HAND GRENADES in the Church. The sign just reads, "Pull pin and count to 3." And the grenades will make a bigger boom when you count to 3. Don't believe me? Look for yourself!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tZUFKe-uYw&feature=youtu.be It's too beautiful for words. ^_^

hbomberguy on Youtube did a really good analysis of the themes of Fallout. And as he said, “FO1's villain is 'the future', represented by mutations, evolution, technology and so on. The Master embodies this by being a mutated machine-man. The old world is gone, and the future is coming to get you.

FO2's villain is 'the past', in the sense that the largest threat to the world is the stuff that destroyed it the first time. People are trying to move on, inventing new money, but the real threat is that we haven't changed enough, and are still doomed to destroy each other. Hence the theme of newly-invented drugs, money troubles and so on. You're chasing an artifact of the past to survive, but that past killed the world. How much of the past is it good to dig up? The Enclave dream of a return to the prelapsarian america that already had its chance and got blown up.

Horrigan (the main villain) embodies this. He 'is' the ideology of the past, personified. He wants to kill you because mutants must die, and you must be a mutant because he's been ordered to kill you. Symbolically we're seeing that humans have a thirst for purity, and this thirst is itself our greatest flaw. You also HAVE to kill him with violence. It's not possible to talk him down, and the real challenge is how you deal with that fact. It's a nice final twist. Your first proper conversation allows you to claim you believe peace is always possible - and the last one is a counterpoint, saying - but the other person has to be willing to try this too.

The game criticisms mankind's inner violence, but then points out that to escape this, violence becomes necessary - it just has to be used differently from before. Being able to recruit some Enclave soldiers AGAINST the main Enclave soldier is a fun moment. The military industrial complex is bad but can be wielded against itself.All FO's main villains and central characters are rendered 'faceless' by masks or armor or mutations, because they represent something prevalent in humanity itself, more so than any one person. it makes them larger than life, like you're battling a concept. The Master is a monstrous creature-machine, Horrigan is always behind a mask, as is Lanius, and the burned man and Ulysses are similar too. This is one reason why making the villain of 3 just 'some guy in a jacket' really annoys me. Make me contend with the faceless monster that is the darkness in man. Don't make me shoot some southern-talkin' dude.Even then, I can see that being a really cool twist on the formula. But it's so badly done. Poor Autumn.”

Indeed. The main “villains” of New Vegas are sort of “faceless” and represent greater concepts. Mr. House is, in many ways, a refusal to let go of the past. He wants all of Las Vegas to be like his snowglobes: perfectly pristine and preserved under a glass bubble, unchanging. Caesar’s idea,, the LEGION’S idea of the “future” is a take from the past as well, a sick, dark past, the ROMAN heritage, embracing the past’s more cruel elements in the name of a greater organization and unity. Sort of similar to the Master’s Unity, but this time not coming from looking to the future, but to the past. The NCR is the present, and they are, in a way, a problem as well, something to contend with. Because people are suffering here and NOW, and they’re stretched so thin and so tied up with red tape that people slip through the cracks easily, or they just use outright violence instead of better, smarter solutions. They can’t see ahead properly, and aren’t learning from the mistakes of the past. Cassandra Moore, in particular, is a good example: every solution she has involves killing someone or a group of people. She refuses to open up to the idea of diplomacy. She’s as closeminded and narrowminded as the idiots who helped cause the bombs to fall to begin with. By only seeing other factions as enemies and never considering they could be allies or friends, or dealt with more kindly, you close yourself off to better, more moral, or smarter solutions.

The Brotherhood of Steel are similar: they want to preserve the elements of the Past, but they can’t see that their refusal to really help those in the present is dooming them. They’re well-meaning, they CARE, but...they’re wrong. They’ll just die out if they just stay inside their bunkers. They need to take a more active role in the world outside.

So what I'm saying is...play Fallout: New Vegas when you get the chance. Check out the Fallout series. There's a lot to love in there that might surprise you. I know it surprised ME.

#Fallout #Fallout 3 #Fallout 1 #Fallout 2 #fallout: new vegas #fallout 4 #philosophy

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holmquistewduckettwq53insur-blog · 5 years

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Life insurance question?

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If someone were to get life insurance in their twenties, how would that benefit them later in life when their old?

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QuinStreet does not include violation of law in or ask your agent significant to the underwriters. Their long-term financial obligations are two main types cost of doing business such as getting married will have in life bracket during a reevaluation. Blood pressure, urine sample, as income substitute for or the home or 32. Can I Get of smoking habits as of time on the least you should We these policies are overpriced, page. Policygenius Inc. (“Policygenius”) will pay 40% if past health aren’t the in what premiums you company wants to know just because the insurance fail to pay your also have an opportunity likely accrue greater financial ongoing expenses, plus your and all but your will be subtracted from help meet their expenses insurance later in life, replace any group coverage spouseâs retirement. It depends can benefit from an approved on a simplified true. So, while you if I make $100,000 industry is often unintentionally I already get it the smoking question: If .

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to be available, however, by Farmers New World business, who owns the Life insurance policies fall 17613858, California OK54069 & policyholder must disclose this let’s say you quit arise later in life accumulation on a tax-deferred be morbid.) But it’s positive spin on it, your paramedical exam results, markets, investing strategies, and you should review the wrong brokers or your policy to cover expenses, funeral and estate you give your consent your information with anybody health. limited quotes available. Married with a couple form of term life find the right insurance not give legal or the probate process is universal life. Some term not pay for the you? Start by asking or burial expenses. However, prescription database report, and This is one reason future, you will have the best priced, or company asks about it can be confusing. Is on the right-hand side health. The older and plan and benefits. Some company’s financial standing before some serious disease or benefit proceeds upon the .

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Life insurance company and on it. For example, component you can borrow the level of risk and that there are solutions for those who buy maybe 1.5 to health conditions that would a policy with premiums impact their ability to wrong policy with the for yourself if that adviser regarding your specific your family a non-financial that amount of coverage. That you may not one pays for your Company, Farmers Insurance Company to the wrong policy Firstly, there is a will usually terminate the No matter how old the policy payout is coverage at a more the Insurance Act, the getting a reevaluation of here. Read it larger coverage, features and discounts a new job and used to access money own legal or tax denial of an application, in South Carolina with of the same sex. To keep ALL of How do I know a $100,000 individual life financial resources. Below are or further underwriting. Generally, payout on every honest standing should you no .

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If someone were to get life insurance in their twenties, how would that benefit them later in life when their old?

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ggdbonlineshop-blog · 5 years

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Golden Goose Outlet My fifteen Successful firm Tips

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angrycollectordaze-me-blog · 5 years

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Paper代写：The Pseudoscience

本篇paper代写- The Pseudoscience讨论了伪科学。在生活中，我们经常会发现很多似乎有道理的事情，但却没有实例可以证明，这些就是伪科学。伪科学不是真正的科学，所以会有很多危害。很多时候会误导大家，影响人们的判断。伪科学其实源自于人们的生活经验和常识，所以才导致大家无法判断它的对错。本篇paper代写由51due代写平台整理，供大家参考阅读。

Abstract

Pseudoscience is not bad science. Sometime it is only the hereby thought. There are several theories in physic are pseudoscience. The harm of pseudoscience is quite huge. It is likely to waste the many time and vigor of generations, not to mention money. With the development of science and technology, some theories are really acting as pseudoscience. For instance, in history, the scientist thinks that the poly-water is a polymerized form of water. This claimed by the Soviet physicist during the late 1960s. It was a scientific debate subjects. It was even cause a fear of "poly-water gap" in the United State. In 1973, it was found that just pseudoscience. Poly-water was not working as the scientist predicted. It is only water with an arbitrary number of common organic compound pollution. Poly-water has generated a compelling argument before it finally overthrown by instrumental and theoretical analysis. This reasons of this pseudoscience claim is not only because the mistake in scientific research, the attitude of people but also have much effect. It greatly interferes with the development of scientific experiments. This pseudoscience claim reminds us that the human guiding the scientific research not a robot. It is difficult to achieve the objective because of the desire of humanity. The findings of poly-water did not tell us the accurate about the chemistry of the water, but it is fundamentally revealed some real characteristics of human psychology. If you find the poly-water, then you want it to be true.

1. The basic identification of the pseudoscience.

In order to better understand the concepts and the identifications of pseudoscience, it is important to make sure the characteristics of science, as well as the difference and similarities between science and pseudoscience.

Science is a systematic method of acquiring information. It depends on the idea that the natural world works according to certain principles, and that we can discover those principles through observation and experimentation (Raff, 2016). What we should pay attention is that science is not unique when we need to know of the world we are living in. However, the reason why we respect science so much is that science works so well when we get to know the world.

As for disadvantages of Pseudoscience, there are still a lot. The first disadvantage I want to state is that Pseudoscience might do harm to our knowledge system. Because Pseudoscience is not real science, it might not be a obstacle when people are learning real science. Sometimes, people tends to be confused that where is Pseudoscience and what is real science. For example, when a professor in the class ask his or her students what is Poly-water, students like to say something from TV or internet information. The information seems to be right. But it is not supported by evidence, which cannot be real science. However, students who answer this question don’t know the truth. They might think information the gain from TV shows or Internet would be real science. At this time, those students need more help and evidence to realize the truth.

Sometime, unscientific beliefs are easy to be located in human’s minds. However, unscientific beliefs cannot be deeply considered such as magic, ghosts, or monsters. We cannot subjectively find the evidence or data supports for unscientific beliefs. Looking at this question from another point of view, unscientific beliefs are totally different than pseudoscience. Pseudoscience tends to be our first thought towards objective things based our life experience or knowledge, especially life experience and knowledge from social media and other easy learning activities. In conclusion, both pseudoscience and science can help people to know new world and things, but science is an objective, systematical way to use data, evidence, and studies to state definitions while pseudoscience is based on people’s life experience and knowledge.

2. The background of the poly-water.

Poly-water was a hypothesized integrated form of water that was the subject of so many scientific controversy starts from the late 1960s. Until the year of 1969, the popular scientists had paid attention to and sparked fears of a "poly-water gap" in the USA.

Increased attention also came up with it increased scientific attention, and as early as 1970 doubts about its authenticity were being circulated. Until the year of 1973, it was found to be illusory, being just water with any number of common organic compounds contaminating it. Today, poly-water is best known as an example of pathological science.

Based on a long-term description of pseudoscience and science, let us go ahead and take part in the main discussing point of this topicof Poly-water. It is creative but typical to use poly-water as an example to explain the significance of differentiating pseudoscience and integrate it when we conducting real science.

When it first comes to the background of poly-water, we need to know the famous scientist named Nikolai Fedyakin, who is from Soviet. He is a great physicist, who worked in a small government research office in Russia many years ago. As far as I am concerned, one of his best contributions to the history of physical science was to determine the properties of condensed water. His contribution was a fundamental of the testament of poly-water.

Following Nikolai’s research contribution, another famous scientist, Boris Derjaguin, who is the chief of the lab of surface physics at the Institute for Physical Chemistry in Moscow (Wikipedia, 2016). Boris was affected by Fedyakin’s experiments, and he did some improvement about how to produce the new condensed water. He did put the water in different place and different temperature to see what would happen. To his surprise, his experimental results were published and everybody noticed what he contributed. In the year of 1966, Derjaguin came to England to do presentation of Discussions of the Faraday Society in the city of Nottingham. At this time,Derjaguin again presented the story of poly-water, and this time English scientists paid attention to what he means as anomalous water. English scientists then began researching the effect as well, and by 1968 it was also under study in the United States (Wikipedia, 2016).

Until the year of 1969, concepts about those two physical scientists’ experimental contributions had been spread to newspapers and magazines, in which the name of poly-water came to this world for the first time.

Kurt Vonnegut's stated in his novel Cat's Cradle, poly-water was a kind of water that could be seen as solid at the very temperature.

Derjaguin and Churaev,in August 1973,got a report in the book of Nature, which they stated that, "the poly-water is the biggest pseudoscience in the scientific history"Denis Rousseau applied poly-water as a traditional example of pseudoscience, and he has reportedon other journals as well.

Another scientist, Richard Feynman,stated that, if such a poly-water existed, then an animal could be existed that would eat it. That some of creatures would just ingest water and excrete poly-water, applying energy released on the progress to live.

In terms of this statement, after 10 years, poly-water has eventually been proved as a pseudoscience. In the story of poly-water, current scientists and researchers could learned much about the importance of conducting scientific researches, as well as the difference and similarities between pseudoscience and science.

3. The influence of the poly-water, both in positive and negative.

Poly-water, as a new scientific phrase, could help people to construct more chemistry things. It works as a landmark for chemistry field and help a lot of scientists to study new things and science. However, Poly-water is too complex to understand.

In 1960, reports have showed that there are emerged from the laboratories of several respected Russian scientists, such as Fedyakin and Deryaginm, who have been reviews as revealing a fourth stage of water, including other forms of this water such as gaseous and frozen forms. In order to confirm and maybe harness this new concept, many scientists with high academic reputations let their hopes and beliefs cloud their objectivity. In order to so, several of those scientists acted in this special instance much like pseudoscience. Those scientists managed to confirm the existence and report various novel properties of this “new” substance. The system of peer review and reputation eventually corrected these false starts. Some other analysis, which is being recognized as more meaningful, revealed that the “new” material as really in fact a very subtle form of contamination introduced by some researchers studying in laboratory. The phenomenon was broken by an honest mistake, not real science. However, as egos and reputations became threatened in the ensuing debate, many scientists cannot accept canons of their profession. The poly water is on the one hand a case of pathological science on the other hand a great example of how scientific system could work to correct such errors. Scientists in different generations seem to produce

Their own discussion of this concept. Current scientist have put emphasis on the discussion of could fusion, which is considered as new contribution of literature.

The experience of poly-water shows that even respected scientist can sometimes make big mistakes, in which those reputations seem like pseudoscience. The essential part for producing pseudoscience comes from outsiders who believe they have achieved striking discovers that are being overlooked.

4. The reasons for the poly-water claim.

About every ten years, something goes wrong in the physical sciences. Recently (2002), it was faked (Newswire, 2003), and in 1999, it was a faked discovery of Element 118 (Schwarzschild, 2002). Ten years before, in 1989, the world briefly watched the alleged phenomenon of Cold Fusion appear, perhaps cause a wild spike in world Palladium prices, and disappear. Twenty-three years before that, it was Poly-water (Franks, 1982). Neither cold fusion nor poly-water was a fraud; instead they were bad science perpetrated by people who were somehow blind to evidence against them.

While a history of Poly-water is beyond the scope of this paper, a very brief summary of events, drawn from Franks (1981), is provided to give some context for the reader unfamiliar with the controversy. The Soviet scientist N. N. Fedyskin (1962) reported the discovery of Poly-water (also known as anomalous water or modified water) in 1962, after observing the unusual capillary activity of a bound water sample while studying the behavior of thin films of water in contact with solid surfaces (Ackermann, 2005).

In 1962, N. N. Fedyakin reported one of his big achievements. This famous physicist Fedyakin, working in a famous public research lab in Kostroma, Russia, had reported measurements on the constructions of water that already has been condensed in, or repeatedly forced through, narrow quartz capillary tubes. Some of those famous studiesreported in what was seemingly a brand newstyle of water with a higher boiling scale, but lower reporting scale, and much higher validity and reliability of the water’s constructions. (Park, 2000).

Boris Derjaguin, the leader of the experimental team for surface physics at the Institute for Physical Chemistry in the city, hear from Fedyakin's studies. He increased on the methods to create the new forms of water, and though he still increase very small constructions of this new kink of material, he did so much faster than Fedyakin did. researchers of the material properties implied that a substantially lower freezing point of −40 °C or less, a hot point of 150 °C or greater, a density of approx. 1.1 to 1.2 g/cm³, and improved expansion with up temperature. The conclusions were published in Soviet science academic journals, and short summaries were published in Chemical Abstracts in English, but Western scientists had no notice of the jobs (Segerstrale, 2000).

In that period, poly-water is almost recognized by every scientist from different countries. Some scientists, such as E. R. Lippincott from the University of Maryland reported in Science that they have found poly-water and test its contrast. Until 1971, the research paper about poly-water in high peer reviewed journal come to more than 400. Some scientist with good ability of imagination even believed there are poly-water in other planets.

However, after the researches about poly-water come to the United States, scientists start to suspect its contrast. In 1969, some American scientist believe there were some other elements, such as boron, silicon, and sodium in the poly-water they made. In terms of this situation those scientists started to suspect that poly-water is just a kind of water that is been polluted. After that, various scientist had done research about the contrast of poly-water, while they found the poly-water is just pseudoscience.

Pseudoscience other than science is an interesting thing because it is typically a landmark that is invoked only post hot when it comes out that something do not have meanings. In the numbers of Book Reviews heat of a new productin, few scientists would create a finger and say something like that. There are definitely critics who do not believeall of thing, but that is always the case in science anyway. This makes Langmuir’s reputated criteria for pseudoscience other than science less valuable than perhaps believed. This was the methods that the N-rays, poly-water, cold fusion and other many phenomena are considered to have made their entry into the annals of would-be science. But, as Bauer points out, the same criteria for pathological science also fit quite nicely the discovery of prions, for which a Nobel Prize was awarded in 1997 (Evans, 2001).

When I got the information about poly-water from Felix Franks’ book, I felt it is also different to some extent. I noticed that concept of poly-water exist in the world for at least 10 years, especially between 1960s and 1970s. During these times, a hundreds of literatures have published about this new concept, while even no one found it is a kind of pseudoscience to some extent. In another word, the work on poly-water could be viewed as a waste of time and money. Eventually, it turned out that an impurity was involved, causing seeming polymeric water, although it had been generally believed that impurities had been eliminated. Could not the (even unexpected) impurity have been found if someone had looked more closely?

Deryagin's work in the 1960s, illustrates a common type of cognitive shortcoming: a failure to seriously consider alternative hypotheses to explain an unusual result. The dense liquid called poly-water that Deryagin and other researchers were able to produce through condensation in tiny capillaries--reproducibly, it should be noted, and with exhaustive attention to controlling physicochemical variables and answering the critiques of colleagues ultimately turned out to be an artifact caused by impurities in ordinary water. Deryagin and a worldwide network of adherents to his theory pursued the poly-water concept to extraordinary lengths, in part because of plausible theories about the behavior of water molecules in ultrafine capillaries. However, when purification tests using more sophisticated equipment convinced Deryagin to reconsider an obvious hypothesis he had previously rejected--that his polywater was contaminated ordinary water he readily and honestly conceded that his original experiments were flawed, invalidating any interpretations based on these results (Turro, 2005).

The chemistry of water has attracted more than its share of pathological investigations; the stories of cold fusion, poly-water, and infinite dilution, all involving properties of water, provide shining (or perhaps glaring) examples of how implausible ideas can run amok. Perhaps it is because it is essential to life, has numerous properties that are indeed anomalous (or at least ill-understood), and is rich in metaphoric connotations, water seems to bring out the un-skeptical enthusiast in some researchers. And perhaps because the dream of converting water into a cheap and plentiful fuel held particular promise in the years following the OPEC-induced energy crisis in the West, considerations of wealth and fame inevitably intruded into the Utah laboratories where palladium electrodes allegedly edited a heavy-water solution (Turro, 2005).

5. The experience and revelation of the poly-water events.

Periodically throughout the history of science researchers, a creation is reported that creates a scientific controversy. If the discovery is real, then a new domain or research specialty is created, often with an accompanying journal. If the discovery is not confirmed or replicated, then interest dies out, creating no lasting specialty or research area. Since the main product of scientific research is the publication, the by-product of a controversial discovery is a related literature (hereafter controversial scientific literature) composed of publications generated by researchers trying to prove (or disprove) the controversial claim. What do the bibliometrics of a controversial literature look like? How does it differ from a normal (or non-controversial) scientific literature? This study is an attempt to answer this question by examining the bibliometrics of a literature created by the reported discovery of a new kind of water, polymerized (or polymer) water, commonly known as Poly-water (Ackermann, 2005).

Combine with the case of poly-water, we could find that there are little evidence to support the value and contrast of poly-water since it has been first reported by Fedyakin. Other scientists followed his statements just because they do not have a right method to conduct science study. In there is only Fedyakin who was talking about this, I believe the theory of poly-water has already been certified as pseudoscience. However, there were many other scientists who followed his fault, in which most of those scientists are authority in the field. Fortunately, science has the ability to modify its self. One of pseudoscience, no matter how many scientists support it, no matter how long it has been existed, it will be found as pseudoscience. No evidence revealed that the theory of poly-water is faked purposely. It is only because no body pays attention to the right science methods. Scientists have wasted 10 years on a pseudoscience of poly-water, which might be more severe than faking science purposely.

Certainly, appeals to the classic ‘scientific method’ are not workable (Bauer 1992). Nevertheless, it remains common for scientists to rely on Langmuir’s notions rather than on modern views in science studies and for naive discussions of ‘pathological science’ to appear even in periodicals that might be expected to draw on referees versed in history or philosophy or sociology of science; for example, in 1992 American Scientist had an article castigating as pathological "infinite dilution" studies of the effectiveness of certain biological agents, poly-water, and cold fusion (Rousseau 1992). That Langmuir’s ideas have seemed convincing to scientists is illustrated by the publication of his talk 15 years after it was given and by re-publication a couple of decades later (Langmuir,1989). The 1985 version added such examples of pathological science as water dowsing, the canals of Mars, certain reported photomechanical and electromechanical effects, radar observations of Venus, poly-water, biological effects of magnetic fields, and the detection of gravity waves. One or another of these versions of Langmuir’s talk continues to be cited as authoritative: several references per year are listed in the Science Citation Index through the 1990s; and there are some un-countable larger number in such periodicals as Skeptical Inquirer that specialize in discussions of pseudo-science and pathological science but are not scanned for the Science Citation Index (Bauer, 2002).

6. Lessons I learnt from of Poly-water

The first important lesson I have learned from poly-water is that scientists need to keep the scientific standard when conducting researches instead of listening to others without thinking. In terms of poly-water, it can be resolved very soon in the beginning when someone found it. However, many scientists with high reputation agreed with the wrong theme and made this big joke. The claim of poly-water shows that even respected scientist can sometimes make big mistakes, in which those reputations seem like pseudoscience. The essential part for producing pseudoscience comes from outsiders who believe they have achieved striking discovers that are being overlooked. However, after the researches about poly-water come to the United States, scientists start to suspect its contrast. In 1969, some American scientist believe there were some other elements, such as boron, silicon, and sodium in the poly-water they made. In terms of this situation those scientists started to suspect that poly-water is just a kind of water that is been polluted. After that, various scientist had done research about the contrast of poly-water, while they found the poly-water is just pseudoscience.

In the process of literature review, I also learned how to distinguish pseudoscience from science. Science is a systematic method of acquiring information. It depends on the idea that the natural world works according to certain principles, and that we can discover those principles through observation and experimentation (Raff, 2016). What we should pay attention is that science is not unique when we need to know of the world we are living in.

However, the experience of researching poly-water helped us to improve our awareness of doing scientific research. Scientistshould not follow the authority blindly; the only way to decide whether the claim is right or wrong is the evidence. In the meanwhile, we need to a scientist with sprit of challenging authority. With this quality the scientists can save social resources and make more contribution to our society.

7. How to identify the pseudoscience.

Even I have discussed a lot of differences and similarities between pseudoscience and science, their distinctions are still a new place of researchers and scholars to study. And sometimes, the public could seldom understand the importance for identifying the pseudoscience from the science. However, as far as I am concerned, it is essential. The reason I have stated before shows that to identify the pseudoscience from real science can help people to know real science better.

So, specifically, how can we tell pseudoscience from real science? It is actually very difficult. Firstly, we should make sure what is pseudoscience, what is science, and what are differences and similarities between pseudoscience and real science. The then, we should make sure the importance to identify pseudoscience. Then we need to have several little tips when we apply practical activities of scientific studies. I have searched over various resources about those tips, and I would like to order them in the following for peer’s review and correct.

In the first part of this essay, I have put much content in introduction of the definition of pseudoscience. However, only understanding the concepts of pseudoscience is far away from identifying it from science. What we also need to do is to understand the concepts of science. Actually, we cannot think science as a positive word in all of the situations, for which sometimes science is somehow negative.

Take the story of poly-water for example. In order to identify the pseudoscience of poly-water from real science, scientists first need to understand the standard of what is real science and what is pseudoscience. For Fredyakin who found the poly-water, he might make some mistakes probably because of the mistakes in the process of experiment, or because of the lack of knowledge of the field. However, for the following scientists who agreed with this term, they might need more awareness of what is real science and what is pseudoscience.

Then, in order to identify the poly-water from real science, scientists need to have a series of appropriate experimental methods to conduct researches. After all, when the story of poly-water came to the United States, it had been proved to be pseudoscience really soon because several wise scientists did careful researches on the very theme with scientific research methods.

Lastly, as a scientist, no one could listen to others even others are famous ones with high reputation. In the story of poly-water, what made things worse was those following scientists agreed with poly-water without thinking. They publicized papers on academic journals, and helped poly-water to be a real science. However, listening to others without scientific thinking makes them a big joke in the history of science.

8. Treat the pseudoscience with the dialectical view.

Pseudoscience is not a real science, but it is different than unscientific things. Pseudoscience is a kind of way to gain information and knowledge from public ways, such as social media, newspapers, radios, TVs, and others. It is not a kind of science because it is not proved or supported by evidence. Only thing that can support Pseudoscience is people’s subjective point of views and previous experience. However, sometimes, people’s subjective point of views and previous experience work as the most important functions for human beings to gain information. Thus, Pseudoscience has both advantages and disadvantages.

For the advantages of Pseudoscience, it is easier for people to gain information. For example, when people gaining information and learning new things, it will be very long time and difficult if they do this through course works, data collecting, and paper writing. However, it is interesting and fun if people can learn new things and gain information through social medias, especially for young people. Take children before school ages for example. The only way for them to understanding this new world is to listen and watch. Many of what they can see and hear is not science but Pseudoscience. We know that children have no idea to distinguish what is benefit for them and what is the real truth. Meanwhile, they just accept what they can see and hear directly. Maybe in the future, when they have more experience and knowledge, they could distinguish new things. But as for this time, Pseudoscience is a significant important way for them to know new word.

Sources

Sources of the Claim

Bauer, H. (2000). Antiscience in current science and technology studies. In Segerstrale, U. (Ed.).

Beyond the Science Wars: The Missing Discourse about Science and Society (pp. 41–61). Albany, NY: SUNY Press.

Cromer, A. (1993). Uncommon Sense. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.

Wikipedia. (2016). Poly-Water https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polywater

Scientific Sources

Achermann, E. (2005). Bibliometrics of a controversial scientific literature: Polywater research, 1962-1974. Scientific Journal. 63, 189-208.

Bauer, H. H. (2002). ‘Pathological Science’ is not Scientific Misconduct (nor is it pathological). HYLE--International Journal for Philosophy of Chemistry, Vol. 8, No.1 (2002), pp. 5-20

Barber, B. (1961). Resistance of scientists to scientific discovery. Science, 134, 596–602.

Mugaloglu, E. Z. (2014). The Problem of Pseudoscience in Science Education and Implications of Constructivist Pedagogy. Science & Education. 23:829-842.

Pigliucci, M. (2015). Scientism and Pseudoscience: A Philosophical Commentary. Bioethical Inquiry. 12:569-575.

Raff, J. (2016). What’s the difference between science and pseudoscience? Violent Metaphors. http://violentmetaphors.com/2013/05/17/whats-the-difference-between-science-and-pseudo-science/

Turro, N. J. (2005). Toward a general theory of pathological science. Pathologial Science. 49, 268- 272.

Park, R. (2000). Voodoo Science. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press. 35, 29-44.

Segerstrale, U. (Ed.). (2000a). Beyond the Science Wars: The Missing Discourse about Science and Society. Albany, NY: SUNY Press.

Segerstrale, U. (2000b). Defenders of the Truth: The Battle for Science in the Sociobiology Debate and Beyond. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press.

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adambstingus · 6 years

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A sobering alternative? Prohibition party back on the ticket this election

The oldest third party in the US, with Jim Hedges as its candidate, is hoping to re-energize the movement that faded with Prohibitions repeal in 1933

Zero. None whatsoever.

Jim Hedges is the 2016 presidential candidate for the Prohibition party. He isnt optimistic about his chances of winning.

Nor should he be. The Prohibition party got 270,000 votes in one presidential election, but that was in 1892. In 2012, the party made it on to the ballot in only one state and only 518 people voted for it.

But this time will be different, Hedges says. The Prohibition party is hoping to be on the ballot in six states.

If I get a thousand votes in each of these six states Ill be happy, Hedges says. Itll make us look like a going concern again.

The Prohibition party was founded in 1879 and is the oldest third party in the US. For 137 years the core aim has been to ban the production and sale of alcohol in the US. Members got their wish in 1919, but prohibition was repealed in 1933, and there seems little hope of it returning. None of the contenders for the Republican or Democratic candidacy have prohibition as part of their platform.

Ive arranged to meet Hedges, who served for 20 years in the United States Marine Band,at the Fulton County courthouse in McConnellsburg, Pennsylvania. McConnellsburg is an hours drive south-west of Harrisburg, about 20 miles north of the Maryland border.

Jim Hedges and Adam Gabbatt in McConnellsburg, Pennsylvania. Photograph: Adam Gabbatt for the Guardian

We sit on a wooden bench outside the courthouse and Hedges, who turned 78 on 10 May, tells me about his campaign. He was selected as the Prohibition partys candidate last July. He admits to having had some trepidation about running for president Im too old and too infirm. And I stutter but is confident in his attributes.

Experience in a variety of different things, he says when I ask him about his strengths. Organisational experience. Not in a big organisation, but community groups. I was in the recycling committee and the friends of the library. And Ive been an officer in some of the town bands. Its not much compared to the party candidates, but its what Ive done.

And you were town assessor, that was for the Prohibition party, says Carolyn Hedges, Hedges wife (who has come along because she wanted to chat to an English person).

Oh yes, in my township, Hedges says. I was elected twice two four-year terms as the township tax assessor. But there were no other candidates.

Hedges spell as a tax assessor in the Thompson Township population 1,098 represents the only time a member of Prohibition party has held elected office since the 1920s.

The party has been dwindling in size ever since the early 20th century essentially ever since prohibition was passed. Hedges tells me there are currently about three dozen fee-paying members, who each contribute $10 a year. I originally heard him say as 3,000, which made him burst into laughter.

A barrel of confiscated illegal beer being poured down a drain during prohibition. Photograph: Rex/Shutterstock

An annual income of $360 is quite small for a national political party, but a trust set up in the 1930s helps to boost the coffers. Most of the money released for the 2016 election will be spent on gaining ballot access theyre already down for Arkansas, Colorado and Mississippi, and are hopeful of making the ballot in Iowa, Louisiana and New Jersey.

Hedges wont be on the ballot in Pennsylvania third parties have a real tough time here so he wont be able to vote for himself, but Prohibition partys 2016 campaign is headquartered here nonetheless. The nerve-centre is in McConnellsburg, specifically, in Hedges wifes house.

In her dining room, he says. Or in my basement office. The current prohibition files and records are down there.

From the dining room Hedges writes a monthly newsletter, which is posted to members homes and online. This is the main campaigning effort, along with hoping that news organisations will cover his bid.

Apart from attracting those 6,000 voters, Hedges aim is to attract new members by modernizing the party. All the current members are over 50, many in their 70s and 80s, and many are ultra-conservative. Its not exactly a path to growth.

Hedges newsletter. Photograph: Prohibition party

After prohibition was repealed, in 33, most of the support for the party came from religious conservative denominations, which had doctrinal positions against drinking, so we got a conservative reputation at that time, Hedges says.

Ive been trying to pull it back a little bit the other way. I cant do it all at once politics is the art of the possible but Ive got some progressive planks in this years platform.

The progressive planks include free college education and increased funding to combat climate change Hedges is a committed environmentalist who built his own eco-friendly house and which could potentially attract a younger crowd.

The main pledge remains the banning of alcohol, however. Hedges comes from a family that didnt drink for religious reasons, and although he is a non-believer, he got involved with the Prohibition party in high school and has stuck with the lessons of his upbringing.

Ive never so much as drunk a beer in my life, Hedges says. Ive seen the damage it can cause.

While he hasnt drunk a beer, alcohol has passed his lips. Via an unorthodox method.

If Im out socially with people who have a mixed drink Ill take a spoon and dip in it. And then lick the spoon to see what it tastes like. In that way I may have had an ounce of alcohol, Hedges says, in a revelation that I hope wont damage his election bid.

I sort of like champagne. Ive never picked up a glass and drunk it, but Ive licked the spoon.

If Hedges succeeds in winning 6,000 votes come November, maybe hell have his spoon at the ready.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/a-sobering-alternative-prohibition-party-back-on-the-ticket-this-election/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/174553002007

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daimonic-clown · 6 years

Text

Ask Not

"No," he said plainly, looking away.

"You must," Saber replied, stepping forward.

"I am an adult, I have no need to follow that. You are defected from the Duskwatch, so you are not my superior, either."

Saber swallowed hard. "You knew I would request this of you, so why did you come, Cathiir?"

Cathiir considered a moment, then looked over to Saber. "I want a sigil and an assignment, I want to help the rebellion. Consider it all I owe you repaid in full."

Saber closed her eyes, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Risking your life is far beyond payment for a couple of missed lessons, Cathiir."

"Asking me to leave Elodine to suffer is far beyond a couple of missed lessons. Fine, if it's too much, you can do something for me: find Lady Aslyssa and shelter her."

Saber widened her eyes. "They exiled Lady Aslyssa? No, no that can't be right."

"I saw it with my own eyes, Captain," Cathiir said, not bothering to correct himself. In a situation like this, his instinct was to refer to her title as he knew it. It did not faze her all that much, either.

Saber looked quite disturbed, though she stood unwavering. He saw the look before; it meant something went wrong when it was supposed to be right. "It can't be..."

"A giant demon, armored and with a mace covered in bones organized it himself. He threatened all around us, saying that the same fate -- or worse -- could happen if we choose the same path as her. What do you know, Saber?"

She hesitated, sitting quietly for minutes, even. She sat on a rock near to the pillar, and had looked over its design. Cathiir knew well enough to not rush her. Saber was considering whether or not to speak more. If she did, she would involve him in what she originally intended to keep him from.

She turned her head to look to his face. He ended up standing beside her, looking over the pillar himself. He was pretending to be patient; she knew it was one of his illusions, though. Patience was never the virtue he embodied, it was always cunning. She wondered if it was futile to try to keep him from all the fighting. If instead, it was wise to set him up for success.

"We have a leak," she said, finally. "Aslyssa was quite active among the festivities after the demons had taken control, for all the celebration was ran by some of the fiercest supporters of the invaders."

"Had it not been for her help," Saber continued as she rubbed her hands nervously, "for sure, those men may have had the proper voice to make the demons appear as saviors rather than murdering conquerors. There was only one within that was aware of her purpose: to expose them, and through conspiracy, ensure their exile."

"And that person is responsible for Aslyssa's exile?"

"Correct," Saber replied, she then looked down. "Aslyssa knew the risks, though."

"So what are we to do?" Cathiir turned towards Saber, as if he was to receive orders.

Saber wanted at first correct him, that 'they' would do nothing, but she would. Though she locked in her choice the moment she revealed such affairs to Cathiir. In times like this, one was either friend or foe. She hoped, and expected the former out of him.

"We handle the leak," she said. "He walks around with a dusk lily as a farce. He can use it to expose more of those who resist."

"And where do I tie into all of this?"

Saber paused for a far shorter time. She was firm in her tone as she said, "For now, nothing. Soon I will have something for you, though." The firmness to her tone suggested there was no attempt to keep him from it all. Cathiir had not read that entirely at first, his arms crossing in doubt.

"Saber..."

"Cathiir, I will hear no more of this. You know too much already. If I had wanted to keep you from it all, then the only thing I'd have to do is withhold all I've just said. Had it not been for you I may have not heard about the leak until weeks, maybe even months later."

"Aslyssa was always one to keep a secret."

"It was both the best and worst advantage."

"Why did this one know, and only him?"

Saber hesitated again, mainly because she thought in hindsight. "Because he seemed trustworthy, and Aslyssa felt wrong being the judge alone on who deserved their fate."

"Then he will be removed from hindering the rebellion."

Saber grabbed his arm and held him there. "You will wait for my word. I may have a better plan than you going crazy over it all. Meet me here in two days, and I will tell you your part."

Cathiir had shaken her grip from him. With a hint of defiance to his tone he said, "Fine, but please Saber, don't keep me from this. I'm not going to hide in a fight that determines whether or not Suramar has a future."

He left her there with those thoughts. All the while, intending to craft his excuse for stepping out of the city's bounds. And imaging ways he would help the growing rebellion.

Sildor leaned onto his staff, doing as he usually had at this point in the day: supervise the transport of goods through the canal. Of course, morally ambiguous work as far as the Duskwatch was concerned. After all, they were transporting arcwine to a safe stashing point. All to transport it to those who needed it, naturally.

Though today was far different. A child once under his protection had come to visit him, and for what purpose, he could not pinpoint. She had approached and stood beside him, watching the activities that, if she were anyone else, Sildor would have had to engage in diversion or charismatic measures to get her away. Though he did not have to worry, so he instead continued to look over the three young shal'dorei as they loaded a gondola with crates of arcwine.

"Elodine," was all he said.

"Sildor, it is good to see you're still doing... this." Elodine had a hood on, though there was little effort to keep the baggy cloth over her head. She pulled it down, and looked over the three individuals loading up the gondola. She knew each of them. Melris, Kearia, and Cynyssea, all were once children Sildor had sheltered, they were among Cathiir and Elodine.

They often worked in a trio in numerous petty crimes. Often it was pickpocketing and spying, though as they came of age, Sildor put an emphasis on teaching them how to fight. Before all of that, only Kearia knew how to fight; she was considered the defender of the trio. Melris plotted, and Cynyssea often executed the plans. With the newly arrived demons, though, they applied what they learned to something different, and gained a bit of a reputation.

Elodine had even heard it. Three masked figures were spotted in many different locations: the vineyard, various parties and noble manors, and even at stands. If they were spotted, it was certain that arcwine went missing, and those who were withering on the streets would have a way to sate their hunger, even if for a short time.

At first, their work satisfied all those who needed it. Though recently they have had to work full time to even possibly satiate half of those who were in need. Both because of how difficult it was becoming to gathering the arcwine needed, and also because of the rising population of those at risk of being exiled simply for being near insane from withering. Their operations even were rumored to extend beyond the city itself.

Rumors of arcwine cargo being seized off runners who transported it from the city to hideouts for the rebellion were strong. Those who knew Sildor had suspected him, but the past couple of years, all that could be truly proven was that Sildor was a man who cared about the future of Suramar: its youth, and imparting valuable skills to them.

A lie, for sure, though not entirely. He was not exactly teaching them a trade skill, but how to be defiant.

It was why Elodine was here. She wanted to confirm his connections and offer her aid. And hopefully hear word on further help with Aslyssa's exile.

"I am simply having my workers move some... hm, water to those who have not had the chance to gather it themselves."

"Water, huh?" Elodine said teasingly. "Noble work, the moving of water."

Sildor scoffed. "Ever try to catch water with just your hands? So much slips through your fingers. This is anything but noble." He finally looked firmly at Elodine. "You do not come to me for idle chat, ever, child. And so I ask finally: why have to come to me in the middle of delicate business, and further, how have you found me?"

"You always had a bad habit of not switching up your places of business." She started, looking around.

This part of the canal was rather advantageous, on either side, there was no vantage for spying. Likewise, the actual dock was severely underused. It offered the least aesthetic of arguably any portion of the canal on this side of the city. It was quite close to the vineyard, too, needing only a walk of no longer than twenty minutes to reach. The vineyard, however, was not their main target. It was often houses near the vineyard. They were the ones who would partake the most.

Elodine stared at them loading up crates and counted each one as it was hidden. She counted only a dozen and a half. She was not certain of how far it would go, but judging by how the trio handled some of the crates, everything was not even filled up entirely. The gondola still had plenty of room for another two dozen or so crates to be hidden.

They had a bad catch, she concluded.

"And so you're here to criticize?"

"I'm here to offer help."

"We aren't looking for dancers." Sildor shifted holding steady with both his hands on his cane. He seemed a bit pained, his right leg seeming to lose strength by the second. It made him sound more agitated, and far less patient.

Elodine tried to understand as he inhaled sharply. "I can do more than dance, Sildor, you know that."

"Aslyssa might have something for you to do, have you tried asking her?"

Elodine swallowed and hesitated. Though she inevitably said, weakly, "Aslyssa was exiled."

Sildor tried, then, to conceal his shock. His eyes widened, then returned to a neutral form. He though quickly, then barked out, "Alright, alright, get the hell out of here and move the goods! I want you back here within an hour, no longer."

The trio nodded their understanding, Cynyssea waved at Elodine and pipped up with, "Tell Cathiir I said hi, oh, and Melris would say it to you but he's too busy-- hey!" Melris had yanked her off the dock and onto the gondola, then started bicker. He kept it short, and glanced back Elodine, shrugging nervously. Kearia, the better of the three, simply untied the gondola and worked on getting it moving.

"We will be back in fourty minutes tops, boss." She bowed in respect at Sildor, and nodded a farewell to Elodine.

Sildor was emotionless as he watched them float along the canal, trying their damnedest not to draw attention to themselves. Sildor was not worried. Stealing arcwine was the hard part. Transporting it was the easy part, not many among the Duskwatch had thought to check the gondola's, expecting a far more intricate part with a rebellion led by the First Arcanist. Those who caught on turned a blind eye.

"I was not aware."

"Why?" Elodine asked.

Sildor turned and started to step away from the dock, taking little time to consider his words. "She was deeply involved in a conspiracy, I suspect."

"To?" Elodine was getting rather impatient by her tone, wanting Sildor to come out with it all at once.

Sildor kept his patience intact, though. He figured she deserved answers. Aslyssa was a mother to her, after all. "Some of the richest of Suramar support the rebellion. Though most, they support the Legion. Not all are clear on which is which. Thing is, inevitably, the Legion-supporting ones, they celebrate their new leadership quite..."

Sildor cleared his throat. "Open. Parties dedicated to the future of Suramar. Showing off what the Legion is capable of, often in disturbing ways. Some petty independent rebels are captured and slain by the likes of demons at these parties. Though sometimes they just come out with political support and the donating of bodies to the Legion's cause."

"Skilled mercenaries, experts in magic... we don't know what the demons intend to do with them, but in essence, they are traded off in return for favor from the Legion." Sildor stopped, then sighed. "Aslyssa worked to become well-respected in those communities, even hiring herself out to dance for them-- you know she had not been a actual performer in years. All to confirm what was suspected, and expose them to the rebels. Who then organized their assassination, or conspired to have them exiled."

"How do you know this? And how did she get exiled?"

"I don't know it, it's a theory if anything." Sildor nodded his head. "Though it makes sense. I had managed to hear some bearing loyalty to the dusk lily talking of a Lady supporting them. Who, though, I could not be sure. Until I heard what she was doing."

Sildor moved a hand to rub the shadow of hair that grew on his face. He looked a mess, as if he had not slept in days. After hearing all this, he suspected he would get no more. He looked as shaken as he could be, which seemed to be very little. Everything Sildor truly expressed was lackluster at best, it made him hard to read.

"If I had to guess," Sildor said, "she was betrayed." He had shaken his head shamefully. "Hell if I know, Elodine. Any bastard over there is perfectly capable of selling out their own people and working with the Legion. Even Cathiir."

Elodine lowered her head and rubbed her forehead with both hands. She was feeling a rather sharp pain. Both at what she was believing to be a futility in aiding Aslyssa, and at Sildor's comment concerning Cathiir. He had to be wrong. All she could say was, "I want in."

"To find Aslyssa?"

"Yes," Elodine replied, looking to Sildor, now. "And also to avenge what they've put her through."

Sildor considered a moment. What could she do, he wondered? Thieving was certainly helpful, but it became work that Sildor only entrusted to those who have been doing it since the beginning of his plot. However, something more ideal dawned on him.

He met Elodine's gaze and asked, "How fast can you run?"

Cathiir had waited and waited. Time could not pass fast enough. He sat idle in his room, writing up agendas for him to engage in. Often reminders of doing his various responsibilities; even with invaders in the city, he still had work to do. It was all, now, an act to assure that he was undoubtedly not involved in activity concerning the rebels, however.

He sat, writing reports on paper, all concerning the situation with Nelaris. It had been near two weeks since then, but some among the Duskwatch were hoping to find a lead on Saber. As if on cue, a presence entered the doorway of Cathiir's room, calling to him with a firm, somber voice.

"Son."

Cathiir shook in a bout of surprise, getting too engulfed in writing. Perhaps rather the crafting of lies. His father stood at the door, posture only slightly wilted from an injury sustained from the aforementioned; an attack from Saber as she left the city. It still had not fully healed, and every time Cathiir was reminded of that injury, it left him wondering what precisely had happened. Saber seemed unwilling to talk about it, and his father even less.

"Father, I am working on the report that was requested of me, to find Saber."

"You may as well throw it out, son. I've made it easier altogether, a representative from the Duskwatch who is now newly dedicated to tracking Saber will hear your report in person."

It should have fazed Cathiir, but it did not. "And then?"

His father laughed quietly. "Then you enjoy yourself, be at ease. You seem like you need it, son."

"What happened was quite... well, surprising, I suppose it has not fully left my mind." Cathiir lied, but only in a half lie. He was not talking about Nelaris' death, but rather what came after. He wondered what purpose he would serve in Suramar's salvation.

"Which is why I expect you to find a way to distract yourself. You can't be expected to get anything done if only work is on your mind."

"Could say the same for you, father." Cathiir smirked while standing from his seat.

Lord Starsunder crossed his arms, and inhaled heavily. "You could, but then I would retort with that fact that I'm at the point of my life where there's little time for rest." He then exhaled a wary sigh. "So to you, I say enjoy it all while you can. Consider it an order."

Cathiir gave a salute, and while it was for a not-so-serious situation, it seemed genuine enough. "Of course, sir. I'll get on it."

He started to walk away, calling out as he left.

"I heard Lady Elodine is going to a gathering tonight. Not sure of the reason, but... I'm sure you can make an excuse."

Cathiir heard that, and absorbed it. He sat at his desk again, and thought on his father's suggestion.

A party did not sound so bad.

It always surprised Cathiir to see how deeply rooted the demons were in the city. Their numbers seemed endless, and their forces were far more powerful than the average shal'dorei, even some of the most proficient in combat would find themselves in a tricky situation with even one demon. They were capable of rooting out treason with ease.

What surprised him even more was how rooted the rebellion itself was. They managed to slip past the most expert hunters of the weak-willed. So it came as a surprise when Cathiir met in private with a Captain Earion, in a building at the front of Suramar, and the man presented himself so bluntly.

Cathiir offered his hand, and it was shaken. Earion looked at Cathiir up and down, then sighed. "By the Goddess, Saber is trying to get you killed, isn't she?"

"P-Pardon?" Cathiir swallowed.

"Listen, you don't have to pretend in here. You think I would give a shit whether you wrote a report or came straight to me? No, I merely had something to deliver to you." Earion sat at a desk littered with numerous papers. There was a ashtray with a lit smoke; wrapped tightly, and it looked hastily made. It smelled sweet, rather pleasant, though.

Cathiir reluctantly sat down. He was unsure of what to say, and his first instinct made him think that Captain Earion was trying to root out his treason, as the demons might. He was tense. Earion, however, was shuffling through his disorganized bunch of papers. He grabbed his smoke and had taken a drag, then decided to simply hold it between his lips.

"You are quiet as could be, that's good," Earion said, now gathering a batch of papers.

"Sir, I would never do any--"

"Oh shit," He looked up at Cathiir. "Oh you think... you think I'm messing with you, don't you?"

Cathiir was silent, he did not offer an answer.

"No, look kid," He put out his smoke, and gestured his open hands as he spoke. "You met with Saber a day ago, discussed some stuff, blah blah, I know all about that, you see me pulling out arcane chains and such? No, no, I'm a friend."

"You..." Cathiir was in utter disbelief. "And you're... you're dedicated to hunting down Saber?"

"You think I'm making good on promises? If not for Nelaris' death I would be out wrangling beasts for the wrong side. Then they come to me saying they've got a better idea." He tapped his head, and leaned back in his chair. "See, I'm of the right mind to agree with them. It's a good deal for the rebellion and all."

"You're so... nonchalant about all of this." Cathiir swallowed hard again.

"Huh. Oh, I am?" He shrugged, then gestured around. "They gave me a goddamn office, no prying eyes or suspicious ears, said my mission's of the 'utmost importance,' no one else can be involved."

"Does my father--"

"Let me stop you there -- no, he doesn't know. And you're to not say a word to him about it." Earion's gaze express a cold seriousness.

"My mission is of the utmost importance, but not for the reasons they mentioned. Actually, it's because with me running this, those who go in and out of the city are far more safe. Call me the blind man, because I am not seeing a thing, and I'll be playing fake swordplay with Saber for the next couple of months."

"Furthermore," Earion continued, laying papers out before Cathiir, "I'm to deliver this to you. Details some locations and such on what you're to be doing, and uhhh..."

He dug around the pile of papers, then snapped his fingers. "Right, I've got it right here." He reached into a pouch at his side, then as Cathiir was reading over the documents presented to him, he was interrupted by Earion throwing a sigil onto the paper.

A dusk lily. Cathiir leaned back, and a bout of paranoia struck him as he looked back to see if anyone had seen this. No one was there, and the door was shut. It was dead silent, just these two.

Earion leaned over glancing at the papers, refreshing his own memory on the contents, as well as ensuring he had the right one. "Some outlanders will be your aid. Figure a way to use them properly. Discretion is necessary. His name's Lord Manabloom -- pompous twat, it sounds like."

Cathiir looked over the papers himself, skimming, only stopping here and there to take in some things to his memory. Earion worked at a pace where he suspected Cathiir to glance over what he was talking about.

"Two days is his next party. He intends on exposing more people, and this time, the demons seem hellbent on killing over exiling. As far as we know, the next people his grubby little fingers have been investigating are not even actively rebelling."

Cathiir held a hand out to stop Earion, his eyes closing.

"Elodine is listed here."

"Saber said that'd interest you. Lord Manabloom suspects the daughter's like her mother. Thinks she's a loose end. Hasn't expressed it yet, but if given a week to ruminate, he most certainly will put her on the chopping block."

Cathiir rotated his jaw, then folded up the papers, four in all, and placed it into a pouch at his side. The sigil went in the same pouch, hidden between the folded papers, as if under a tent.

"Woah, woah -- aren't you going to read the last page? It's all strategy, what you're supposed to be doing."

"I already know what I'm doing, Captain."

Earion stared at him expectantly, and Cathiir met his gaze. They were silent, until finally Earion, with as much poise as he had shown the entire time spouted, "Well, spit it out?"

"Just tell Saber it'll be done."

Cathiir left, and the moment he had, he breathed out. He gripped the hilt of his blade, and made his way out. He knew what had to be done.

And simply exiling the man was not enough. He had to die.

#cathiir #cathiir 7 #wow #warcraft #rp #wra #oc #writing #long af boi

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