#& maybe she's right and that it would lead to Fang's destruction to have it. but hes still major being left out of the loop with this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

secret-engima · 3 years

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I concur. The last option is the best. Maybe a few headcanons or snippets on how Angeal got roped into being a Braincell again? (Bonus if he originally refuses the call because *cough* Genesis *cough* but still ends up bundling up Ardyn and giving him some calming tea while in complete denial)

Hmmmm finally up for rambling this ask so buckle up!

-Angeal has no desire to be anyone special. He has had a good childhood this time around, with two loving parents and no scientific experimentation whatsoever. His father is one of the gardeners for the Oracles themselves and Angeal is perfectly content to follow in those footsteps once his father retires. He hopes for a peaceful life and carefully hides his lingering guilt and trauma from another life under the mental carpet, and refuses to admit he still dreams of the people he failed (Sephiroth who he abandoned, Genesis who he couldn’t save, his mother who committed suicide because of her guilt at what he’d become, his son apprentice Zack whom he forced to kill him).

-He is befriended by the young Princess, who smiles at him and is content to talk for hours about the flowers and plants he helps maintain. She follows him around sometimes, both asking for advice and giving it impulsively, and even though she is just a child, she has an impressive green thumb and an even more impressive kind heart. He knows that everyone says the Princess is ... odd. And she is. She is too old for her skin sometimes, too wise and too silly by turns in the way only someone who has seen it all and come out the other side can be.

-Privately, Angeal thinks she might be like him. Someone who remembers another life. But he never asks. He never admits. It doesn’t matter anyway. They are both content in their respective new lives, there is no need to drag up ghosts.

-Then one day Fenestala Manor ... burns. A lot of people are killed. A lot more are terrified and grieving and angry. There are whispers of rebellion, of defiance, but none dare when the late Oracle’s children are within Niflheim’s grasp.

-Angeal (who now wears the name Theseus like a suit he refuses to admit doesn’t fit right) keeps his head down and makes no moves to step out of line. He played hero once and he became the monster instead. He will not make that mistake a second time. He does, however, try to make his garden a sanctuary for the poor Princess. He can’t imagine how she must feel, to lose her mother so young, to be held captive by her mother’s killers, to have a brother who rages and cries and pulls bitterly away because he cannot see that his sister is grieving, just in a different way.

-Then the Chancellor of Niflheim visits for the first time, and Angeal only knows because he spots the Princess leading the bemused, sharp-tongued man around the garden, smiling and gentle and welcoming, like she is speaking to an old friend and not one of the leaders of the nation holding her hostage. Angeal keeps his head down, but the Princess trusts him and seems to think he makes fine company for a princess and an enemy politician, and she drags him over to talk about the flower crown she is making their guest.

-The Chancellor smiles and verbally cuts open Angeal in only the most veiled, politest ways. It’s almost impressive, if it didn’t remind him too much of Genesis. So Angeal pretends to not notice and hopes the man goes away and never comes back.

-He goes away.

-He keeps coming back.

-And Angeal keeps finding them in his garden, the Princess and her dangerous, half-mad guest (and Angeal knows madness, he has seen it in faces of friends and mirrors alike, he knows what the Chancellor hides behind his flowery words and indulgent smiles it is not anything nice), and he keeps getting dragged into the conversation, and somewhere along the way he notices that it’s almost always raining on the days the Chancellor visits. A pleasant, faint sort of rain that is almost as nice to be out in as sunshine. If it’s not raining before he arrives, it is within the hour he appears, and it always leaves within the hour the Chancellor does. And that the rain itself whispers against his skin like magic, like the faintest, most persistent of cure spells that Angeal hasn’t felt since he woke up as Theseus.

-Its a coincidence until it’s not. It’s happenstance until Angeal spots the glimmers of something quieter and saner appearing in the man with each visit and flower crown and long, rainy day conversation with the young Oracle.

-It’s not his problem until he stumbles on the man in question vomiting his guts out behind the gardening shed while the Princess has briefly been called away by nervous servants who make up any excuse to keep her away from the Chancellor she seems set on befriending.

-And Angeal has no desire to take another self-destructive, sharp-tongued, venom-fanged, art-loving, idiot redhead under his wing, but he likes to think he isn’t a horrible person in this life, so he gently rescues the man’s hat before it can fall into the smoking black (???) bile and gently steers the man to the nearby plastic chair Angeal sits on when maintaining his tools. He steps into the shed and comes back out with the thermos of tea he was saving for his own lunch and gently pushes the cup into the man’s hands while gold eyes stare at him and toy with his murder (Angeal has seen this powerful man in a moment of weakness, if Angeal disappears in the next two weeks, he won’t die surprised).

-“You should drink,” Angeal tells him softly, “It will help your stomach settle.”

-“Oh will it now.” Ardyn Izunia drawls even as he takes a slow sip of the herbal blend and makes the tiniest face at the taste. They stay in silence for a while, with the Chancellor recovering his breath on the chair and Angeal debating what to do with the patch of very dead ground where black bile was moments ago and healthy grass had been long before that. In the end he covers it with a piece of old tarp and decides to brave the potential radioactive spot later. Once the man who apparently had that stuff inside him has calmed down and hopefully left.

-“You’re taking this very calmly,” Izunia drawls, and Angeal can feel the barbs on the other man’s tongue, waiting to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.

-“You’re hardly the first man to get an upset stomach,” Angeal deflects calmly, “It’s perfectly normal.”

-A scoff that is startled enough to count as a genuine laugh, “Normal, he says.”

-Angeal ignores the question in there and instead turns around to look thoughtfully at the Chancellor. Without his hat to hide his face and his venomous smiles to discourage scrutiny the man looks ... exhausted. Rung dry. And very, very thin. Like he hasn’t eaten a good meal (or anything at all) in days.

-A workaholic maybe? Or something worse. The Princess is an Oracle after all, her duty will be to heal the sick of the otherwise incurable. It isn’t that much of a jump to say she could sense that Ardyn Izunia was sick and was trying to help even while untrained. Either way it’s not his problem. He’s just a gardener. He has no business interacting with this man beyond the times the Princess insists he does.

-He keeps telling himself that as he disappears back into his shed and comes out with another thermos, this one of soup (it’s a good thing it’s chilly weather, otherwise he would have brought a sandwich and that might be too hard for this man to stomach). He offers a cup of still warm soup to the Chancellor, who stares at it like he doesn’t remember what it is. Angeal keeps holding it out until the man takes it from him, “...You have no idea what is going on do you,” Izunia rasps as he sips almost experimentally on the soup.

-Angeal shrugs, “No. But you look like you could use a sit down, some tea, and some food, and my mother would kill me herself if I refused to share what I had with someone who might need it more.”

-A sneer and a flicker of something furious in gold eyes, “Pity then.”

-Angeal turns back from where he had been about to wander off and resume gardening, because he knows that tone and he knows where it leads and it hurts too much to walk away (this lifetime), “No.” He snaps and the Chancellor blinks in surprise at Angeal’s sudden fire. Angeal picks up the tools he needs for the next hour and says more quietly, “Kindness.”

-“Are they not the same thing?”

-Angeal thinks of a blinding smile from a boy in another life who didn’t know the darkness of the world and made it better in the process, of the Princess who welcomes a leader of the enemy into her home and gives him flowers like he is a long-lost friend. He thinks of another redhead who once said something very similar before the end. He dares to meet golden eyes again, “No,” he tells the Chancellor, “they aren’t. But you’re a smart man. I think you knew that already.”

-Ardyn Izunia stares at him and is, for once, speechless. Angeal turns and hurries away before he can give in to the urge to grab a spare picnic blanket out of the shed and drape it on the man’s shoulders.

-That man is dangerous. He is broken and mad and feral and good at hiding all those things which makes him even more dangerous than he otherwise would be. Angeal cannot (will not) get attached. Not again. He won’t fall into that trap. He isn’t a good friend for anyone, let alone a good moral compass or shoulder to cry on. He’ll just make things worse. He knows that.

-Yet somehow that doesn’t stop him from packing a thermos of soup whenever it starts to lightly rain, and passing out cups of it when the Princess and the Chancellor inevitably wander into his corner of the gardens.

-(And maybe, weeks later, Ardyn Izunia corners Angeal where the Princess cannot see and stares at him for a long time. Maybe Izunia’s face shifts and pales as black blood weeps from his eyes and mouth until he looks not like a man but like a ghoul from a nightmare. Maybe he smiles like a predator looking for a kill and asks “Theseus” if he is frightened. If he is horrified.)

-(Maybe Ardyn is left stunned when the simple gardener looks him in the eye and with painful, gentle honesty says no.)

-(”Why not? I am a monster. You should be afraid.” Ardyn growls, his Scourge on display, his monstrous nature bared for this strange, mild-mannered man to see. And he is stunned when the gardener gently touches his pale, purple-veined hands and guides him down to a familiar plastic chair, as he disappears into the shed and comes back with a familiar thermos of soup and presses the cup into his hands.)

-(He is left speechless when this gardener, this human, this mortal, foolish man, finally answers his question, “This,” the gardener taps one of Ardyn’s deathly pale hands, “doesn’t make you any more or less human, or more or less a monster than me.”)

-(“Then what does?” Ardyn asks in a whisper, not sure if he is curious or insulted or ... desperate.)

-(The gardener just smiles, and in the expression there is something unnervingly old and sad and knowing for someone who has not lived two thousand years and not seen his own humanity crumble before his eyes, “You’re a smart man, Chancellor” he hums, “you tell me.”)

-(And Ardyn finds that he is, once again, speechless.)

#SE asks #dreamer-under-the-moon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Clouds and Moonlit Skies verse #long post #i have many feelings about angeal in this verse apparently

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kitkatopinions · 3 years

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Blake has nothing going on for her now or in the future except Yang and to a lesser extent her team. These are the consequences of bungling the faunus storyline and replacing it with nothing. They've cleaned their hands of Blake's personality and goals. Like you said ship bait is all that's left.

Blake is honestly the worst treated character amongst Team RWBYJNR + Oscar imo, and tbh, I think even Qrow gets a better rep than her. And that’s saying something, because Qrow has been so badly handled.

The worst thing about this for me is the wasted potential. Blake was really wrapped up in their horribly bungled racism/faunus allegory even more so than Weiss. There are obviously problems with how CRWBY continues to try to use the racism/faunus allegory in some problematic ways rather than dropping it completely, without seeming to put in any effort to actually fix it. Blake’s story being so wholly wrapped up in the faunus racism arc had made her character problematic (for instance, she looks hypocritical for being totally against reactive violence in the case of the White Fang, but is training to be a Huntress and is just fine ripping through White Fang members.) Blake has a lot of good to her character from volumes 1-5 if you can separate her from the bungled allegory however (although I totally understand when people just can’t do that.)

Removing Blake from the faunus/racism arc doesn’t have to leave her with nothing as a blank sheet that must be built from the ground up, her character should’ve stayed the same. Blake’s base character at the start of the show that remains pretty dang consistent for five seasons is cynical, stubborn, defensive, active, passionate, focused, someone who has more life experience and a bit of a darker worldview than her friends, someone who has a hard time making friends anyway, a fairly quiet, independent girl with a tendency to run when things get to be too much and tends to self-destruct and push people away, but is still brave and selfless, with a moral code she believes in (although misused, a character that believes things like ‘stealing is always wrong’ is not an uninteresting one. Blake’s moral code was just used badly.) Blake also has a more subdued way of expressing her affections. A few things about Blake - like her tendency to run, many of her insecurities, pushing people away, and self-destructing - started to get worked through and addressed in an actually meaningful way during volumes 4 and 5 (although her resolution with Yang was wonky, but I could talk more about that in a different post.) However, in good narratives, these traits don’t just go away because they start getting worked through. For instance, just because Zuko in ATLA turns to the good side and starts addressing his trauma and working through his anger issues doesn’t mean he isn’t snippy, hotheaded, and prone to outbursts anymore. And for another instance, just because Yang starts trying to control her temper doesn’t mean she’s no longer prone to anger based reactions, snapping, being defensive, and getting into fights.

While Ruby, Weiss, and Yang read as more consistent even if there characters are going in a bad direction - Ruby’s always been reckless and considered her team the end all, her character now is the incredibly frustrating result of this never getting checked or worked through - but Blake is severely lacking in many of her old traits.

Blake has become an incredibly passive character who can’t stand up for herself and tends to just go along with whatever Ruby wants, and is more than willing to steal and lie and let others steal and lie. She’s lacking in passion, even her supposed stronger moments carrying a more passive tone. She relies on others to save her, both by relying on Yang and Weiss to defend her from mean anti faunus people, and constantly relying on others in fights, not able to land hits and begging Ruby to help her when she’s left without Yang to do her fighting for her. She doesn’t make choices herself, literally in the ‘will we launch Amity or defend Mantle’ conversation, Blake is one of the only people who isn’t shown out and out picking a side. She’s no longer cynical and no longer seems to mind waiting around - telling her younger, naïve teammate who’s spent hours doing nothing that it’s okay that she’s been doing nothing and hasn’t really helped anyone because Blake knows she’ll do something eventually and admires Ruby’s optimism. Blake no longer is independent enough to even be temporarily left by Yang without reacting like she did something she has to be guilty and ashamed of.

Like, what is this? Seriously, what is it? They didn’t even fight and they have her reacting like this.

It’s like the writers decided when they dropped her faunus arc that they could now create a new character from the ground up. A passive, supportive, co-dependent, damsel in distress character who can give the other girls a leg up and fuel their more compelling arcs. You know what? May isn’t Maid Marian, Blake is. She’s Disney’s Maid Marian. She’s the encouraging love interest/friend figure who can be jokey sometimes, occasionally tries her hand at convincing other people to do things, and to prove she’s not totally helpless, gets a hit in every now and again.

Look, maybe I’m being a little over dramatic, but that’s how she feels when you compare her to the other characters. Even Ruby, sitting around drinking tea and crying on staircases until the plot falls into her lap two different times, is a much more active character than Blake.

The closest CRWBY have gotten to making Blake an active character was when they had her react in anger to Neo knocking Yang into the void, but again, it didn’t amount to anything.

The writers could have made Blake the same character she was before while still deviating from her White Fang plot. She could have continued to be an independent, somewhat snarky, brave, passionate girl with more of a cynical worldview and a tendency to overwork herself in her hurry to get real work done that would help make the world a better place, while she tried to push past her more pessimistic tendencies and her struggles to connect with others in order to be there for them, because she believes in them and their purpose and herself. And you know what? I’m just gonna say it... That version of Blake, V 1-5 Blake, is the version that works best with Yang! Like don’t get me wrong, Yang and this new character have some cute moments and it’s... Lacking, but it’s at least something. But Yang and Blake as she was could actually be a compelling ship, they could fit well together. And Blake as she used to be could’ve interacted really well with the Atlas arc and the story in season six. She could’ve related to Ozpin when they find out about their past, she could’ve been on Qrow’s side when it came to stealing the plane in Argus and have to be convinced, she could’ve been trying to talk the Ace Ops into being reasonable, she could’ve been at Robyn’s rally, ready to help out in the fight against Jacques and passing out flyers, only to get angry and upset when she hears how Robyn talks to Marrow, she could’ve been on May’s side when May told them they needed to take action, she could’ve been right there with Yang telling Salem what’s what, or if they had to split the two (which I’m more than fine with,) they could’ve had Blake with the Mantle crew, but stay behind to help civilians, or they could’ve had had leave the manor with May. And if they were going to try and make Blake guilty for a fight, there should’ve been an established conflict where Blake and Yang disagree about Ironwood, and then that leads into a wider conflict about who was wrong and who was right. I don’t know, guys, I’m not a professional.

All I know is that Blake doesn’t feel like herself anymore and the writers won’t give her anything. It’s frustrating. This was kind of a vent post, but... You know what, I can vent about it. It feels like the writers are doing this on purpose at this point.

#rwde #anti rwby #anti crwby #anti blake belladonna #this post isn't really anti bb I think but I should tag it anyway #anti-bumbleby #anti bumbleby #anti bumblebee #anti bb #anti-bb #anti blake x yang #anti yang x blake #bees sorry if this shows up on your feed #I just really miss the old Blake :/

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 3 years

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Something Seams Off || Irene and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Sew La Ti Do PARTIES: @threadofheart and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Kaden goes to Irene to repair his jacket and they have a snicker-snacker of a time. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Kaden ran his hands along the leather jacket as he watched the signs of the stores along the street. He didn’t want to miss the repair shop. Clothing wasn’t usually precious to him. It couldn’t be, not as a hunter. Sure, he had to scrounge and save for new clothing back in the day, but any shirt or pants could get destroyed in the wrong monster fight. The best thing to do was usually patch it best as he could for as long as he could before tossing it aside for something else decent. But the leather jacket in his grip was different. This was a gift. Kaden had precious few gifts in his life that he held onto, at least not prior to coming to White Crest. Either way, if anything was worth taking care of, it was the jacket Blanche had given him. To the point he was careful not to wear it on hunts, at least not often. Sometimes it was hard to avoid. Still, he couldn't figure out where some of the holes in the piece were coming from. It didn’t make sense. Definitely beyond his skills to repair. Time to try a professional for once. He gulped before swinging the door open. He had to remember whatever the price, he was fine, he could afford it. Old habits were hard to break. “Hello?” he called out. “Uh, got a jacket that needs fixing. This is the place, right?”

After the online interaction with the owner of the leather shop, Irene was quick to research some tips on how to better mend leatherwork. Since it wasn’t her typical area of expertise, she wanted to improve on it in the event she had customers seeking that specific service. Scattered across her table were scrap pieces of leather she had practiced her stitching. Several of her poor needles already set aside and bent at odd angles. Just then, the jingle of the door chimes caused her to look up at the customer entering her shop. With a warm smile, she got up from her table and walked over to the counter. “Welcome, I’m Irene, and you’re in the right place. What sort of fixing does this jacket need?” she asked, her hands gently patting on the counter indicating for him to set down the piece. Upon brief examination, it certainly appeared to be well-worn, well-appreciated.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Kaden said, awkwardly and a little stilted as he walked towards the counter. He had no idea what the protocol was in this whole exchange, it wasn’t like he’d ever done it before. Thankfully she took the lead and indicated where to place the jacket so after giving her a slightly startled look, he did just that. Right. Made sense, she had to look at it after all. “Uh, there are some holes in it. Weird spots. I don’t think I made them.” Then again, he got so many injuries and brushed up against so many various fangs, claws, and pincers it was hard to keep track of the damage after a while. “Not that I-- I mean, I work in animal control. With the WCPD. Uh, Officer Langley.” Which probably didn't matter. Why the fuck was he introducing himself? And why was he nervous about a damn jacket repair? “You probably didn’t need to know that or care. Just, yeah. Weird holes. Does it… You think you can fix this? Not to-- I just don’t know what can and can’t be saved. Usually don’t try.”

Irene’s expert hands were quick to search typical areas where jackets typically formed holes. The seams didn’t seem to be split but with some of the holes, she likely would have to reline a couple of spots so that any fixing wouldn’t look like a patch job. Her eyes narrowed as she continued to study the jacket. “Overall, this looks like it’s in good condition, but the holes are… a little strange,” she noted aloud. “Like you said, definitely in some strange places. If this were a weather or cotton piece, I’d say maybe moths or something, but I’m a bit at a loss as to the cause.” Straightening up, she let out a small sigh and another smile. After all, her job wasn’t to determine what caused this but rather how she would fix it. “Well, Officer Langley, this probably will take me about a week. I think I have similar thread and fabric to fix this up, though once I’m done, it’ll look brand new.” It was clear this jacket meant a lot to him; the stress emanating from him was hitting Irene like a wall of bricks, so she hoped her words could offer some relief. “And I could offer you a rough estimate as well if you’re interested.”

Kaden rubbed the back of his neck as he watched the woman work through what was going on with his jacket. Putain, he wasn’t normally this nervous about simple human interactions. Something about it being new, unknown, it left him unsure. “Yeah I didn’t think moths would go for leather, but a brow--” Merde. He caught himself before he started talking about fae and monsters. Barely. “I mean, yeah probably not moths.” He felt his stupid heart pounding in his chest over a stupid conversation with a seamstress. The fuck was wrong with him? Maybe he shouldn’t quit hunting. He clearly couldn’t handle normalcy. “A week? Is that-- I mean, sounds good. I’m not sure how long this would normally take. I’ve never had anything repaired before. I normally just throw away things once they get damaged but I guess if I did that you wouldn’t have any business so anyway this is, uh, new. For me.” He was certain she could tell without him saying shit. Her next assurance had him even more wide eyed. Shit, was he really that obvious? He didn’t think he looked poor. He didn’t right? Fuck, maybe he did. “A rough estimate? Oh. Yeah. That’d be good. To know. If you--” His brow furrowed as he cut his sentence short once more. This time it wasn’t just him not knowing how to speak like a normal person. Something was moving. His brows knit together as he looked closer at the jacket. “You’re not…” His eyes darted back up to her. Her hands were in fact not underneath the jacket. And yet it was wiggling. “That’s not you moving it, is it?”

Irene could feel the intensity of his emotions grow despite her telling him that the jacket could be fixed. Was something else worrying him? In the past, she had worked with clients who held incredible sentimental value to their clothing articles. Perhaps this was one of those instances. With a warm smile, she looked across the counter at the man. “This jacket must mean a lot to you if you’re bringing this in for extra care. I assure you that your jacket is in great hands with me, officer. You’re doing great,” she added lightly with a small chuckle. Grabbing a notepad and a pen, she scribbled a few quick notes about the current condition of the leather jacket and the exact fixes the officer was requesting. That helped her approximate the cost. Just as she was about to write out an estimate, his question caught her by surprise. “Hm? N-no, what do you mean?” she asked, her eyes instantly darting to the jacket to see brief movement. Shoot, did her shop have mice or rodents? “Oh goodness!” Without thinking, she lifted the jacket up, expecting to find some sort of critter there only to spot something… not quite exactly that or anything she had seen before. “What--” she jumped back in surprise, her eyes wide after she immediately dropped the jacket back down.

Kaden nodded a little along with her words. “I mean, sure it, uh, I like it and all. But it’s not that important.” Putain, why did he say that? What if that meant she was less careful with it now that she thought he didn’t care? “Not that-- I mean. Yes. Thank you.” Fuck, what if she was fae? And he just thanked her. And why did she have to reassure him that he was doing fine with a basic social interaction. Sadly, his ineptitude wasn’t the biggest disaster in the room. When she moved the jacket, out hopped a small rodent looking creature. Only it wasn’t a mouse or rat, no no. That was a snicker-snacker. No missing it. “Putain,” he grumbled to himself. “No wonder there were holes.” Out of instinct, Kaden reached for his knife in his back pocket, but his hand hovered and hesitated. Just long enough for the supernatural rodent to scutter off. Shit. But he couldn’t just stab the snicker-snacker right in front of her in her shop. He wasn’t the most experienced with social norms, but he was pretty fucking sure destroying shops with knives was frowned upon. He twisted and turned looking to see if he could find the creature. “Must have been in the jacket. Not sure how I missed that.” Had to have crawled in one night when he was hunting. At least he hoped that was the case. If he had an infestation in his apartment, well, he didn’t want to think about the destruction waiting for him at home. “Did you see where it-- there!” he shouted as he leapt towards a corner of the store, diving onto the floor, trying to clasp the rodent with his bare hands. It skittered just out of reach, running to the other side. Shit. He had to get it or else it could be bad news for her shop. It had definitely gone to the left. Only, when he glanced to the right, he saw it there, too. No, not the original one. There were two. “Uh. Think you’ve got a problem here,” he told her, trying to pick himself up off the floor.

If the rodent-looking creature scared Irene, the man pulling out a knife immediately caused the seamstress to shriek out of surprise and fear. But her attention was quickly drawn back to the thing that jumped off her counter and was not running around her shop. With wide eyes, she pulled her gaze back to the man as she tried to process just what had happened. Irene wasn’t normally one for any sort of judgment, but yes, how had this man conveniently not realize that something like that was burrowing his jacket? Before she could even respond, Irene toward the floor as the creature skittered across her feet to the man’s left. Another yelp escaped her lips as she jumped back in surprise. It was one thing for rodents to be scampering around, but she will not have them messing up her shop. Trying to think quickly, Irene grabbed a broom from the corner and glanced to the right and saw… another one. Confusion etched across her face. “Oh no…” she muttered quietly as she slowly raised her broom. Was this her weapon now or a poor decision of a shield? Who knew. “What are those?” she asked in a soft voice, hoping not to startle these creatures with any sudden noise.

This was a problem. One snicker-snacker was bad news. Two were exponentially worse. And for all they knew, there were more than even that. Kaden started to listen and look for any more signs of them, trying to keep his steps quiet as he ducked down to look at any and every corner. “Snicker--” He paused before finishing his answer. Saying “snicker-snackers” was going to make him sound like he was out of his mind, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t exactly keeping the supernatural a secret at that point either. Putain. “Uh, rodents. Mutated mice. I think.” That worked, right? “They’ll eat through just about anything so be careful.” This whole shop would be in bad shape if an infestation broke out. All the clothes and fabric would never last. He glanced over to see how she was holding up. Broom wasn’t a bad idea on her part. Shit, if only he had his work kit. No nets or cages on him now, unfortunately. “Got anything to trap them with? A basket. A bowl. Anything?” He saw a jar full of pins. This was a terrible idea. “Putain,” he grumbled to himself as he dumped the pins as carefully as he could manage onto the table he picked the jar up off of. “Sorry about that. I, uh, I mean looks like it’ll work.” He caught a blur of motion out of the corner of his eyes and leapt towards it, jar in hand. “Sweep it towards me! Corner it”

Irene watched the man move around expertly ready to attack. She clutched the broom tighter against her chest as her heart pounded loudly in her ears. “Snicker? Like--what, like the candy?” she asked incredulously. Her brow knitted tightly as she tried to keep an eye on even just one of these creatures. “Mutated mice. Wonderful. Thank you evolution,” she muttered under her breath as she took slow, quiet steps through her shop. Rodents weren’t something she was scared of; hell, she’d seen her fair share of very brave rats in New York. This? This should be a piece of cake, though she had no idea what sort of advantages these mutations gave these rodents. Her eyes quickly scanned the room in response to his request. “Uh… how’s this? Wait!” she called out, unable to find a suitable container before the pins were spilled out. Great. But she had little time to process that before she also caught sight of a dashing blur past her. Instinctively, she swept broadly with the broom, the bristles making contact with something, and a loud squeak seemed to indicate she must have caught the rodent. “Coming your way!” she called out as she made one swift broom push toward the man. “Well, that has to be one, right? Is that it?”

“Uh, sort of,” Kaden started. With how often he ran into the supernatural in this town, it was hard to remember how few of the residents actually were in the know. Code said to keep shit secret, he needed to try a little harder. As he dove, he slammed the lar over top of where he’d seen the blur. Only to catch something just to the left of him. Shit. He reached out with the jar again as she swept the lump towards him, capturing the creature underneath. “Got it!” he shouted, keeping both hands on top of the small jar, just in case. There was a sound of something splitting behind him. Putain. He kept one hand on the jar as he twisted to try and look behind him. A table leg had snapped in two and he was certain if they didn’t hurry, there might be less than three legs there. “Shit, shit, shit.” He was making a real fucking great impression here. He had to let go of the jar to get over to the other one. “Uh, do you have a book? Or a weight? Or something? And one more--” He paused. “Maybe two more jars. Just in case.”

Irene's stress levels increased, both from wanting these creatures out of her shop and from the fact that this whole instance was creating a giant mess of her shop. Had these things always been around this entire time? A hazard of her work she never considered before? As the man dove down, Irene held her breath until she saw that he had managed to catch something. “B-book? Um, goodness, I have uh I have a couple of binders of fabric swatches,” she said, frantically reaching for these from the desk in the back. And jars. Her eyes looked for a few more of those, all filled with things like thread scraps or buttons. The priorities now though was definitely in capturing these creatures, so she poured the contents out into an empty box and quickly returned to the man. And then she saw the cracked leg on her table. Oh goodness why was this happening. “I hate to bombard a customer with orders, but please get these things out of here before the rest of my shop is destroyed,” she pleaded.

This was not the first impression Kaden had planned to make. Granted, he didn’t start off on the best foot so guess he didn’t have much to lose. He’d shifted and let his foot rest on the jar while she went to grab more supplies to trap the creatures, untrusting of what would happen if he left it unweighted. He didn’t want to find out if the snicker-snacker could topple over the glass. At least it couldn’t eat it. Well, it shouldn’t at least. It wasn’t exactly wood or fiber. He looked down. Floors should be safe, too. Right, better get them out quickly. “Thanks,” he said, taking the book and the jars from her. He dumped the book on top of the makeshift snicker-snacker trap and hoped like hell it was enough to keep it there. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the little pest run up and back towards his jacket. “Oh no you don’t,” he said, diving towards it and yanking it away off the counter. The mutant mouse went spinning and flying in the air as the rug was pulled out from under it, but landed on its feet and scurried off. Merde. He’d have to be more careful.

Jars in hand and ready to pounce, Kaden tried to move quietly around to the back of the counter to see if it had landed back there. A flash of fur and horns darted out, squealing towards the table with three legs. “Not today, you little bastard,” Kaden said as he threw himself at the table, crashing into it, causing all sorts of odds and ends to go flying and clattering to the floor as he wrestled to get the jar on top of the creature. All he got was a spool of thread. Good thing she’d handed him two jars. He reached out with his left hand and slammed the glass down, praying he didn’t break it with his hunter strength and heard a squeal as the tail wriggled out from underneath the lip. If it were a mouse or a rat, he might feel a ping of remorse. But a snicker-snacker? He dug the jar down to the floor a little harder before the tail snaked its way back under the container with another squeal. “Got it,” he said, breathing heavily as he pushed himself off the floor.

Irene watched with astonishment as the man moved so expertly. Her eyes darted back and forth between the now-occupied jar and the precarious situation of her table. “Sure…” was all she managed to respond. With her hands now empty and the man chasing after the other “mutant rodents,” Irene’s attention honed onto the jar. She could hear the skittering of the creature, sounds of tiny claws scraping against the glass in an attempt to escape. Leaning down onto her hands and knees, Irene took a peek at the rodent inside, this snicker thing, and let out a small gasp. It looked like a mouse or a hamster but with horns. What the heck was in the White Crest water that mutated the rodents into something like this? Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sudden slam from the man, the sound of another jar crashing onto the ground and securing another creature in its confines. “O-okay, what do we do now? I mean, are we supposed to let these go out in the wild? Is there animal control for something like this?” And how dangerous were these things? So many questions ran through her head. Then her face paled lightly at the next thought. Did these need to be exterminated? Despite the trouble they brought, the idea soured her stomach.

Kaden brushed off his pants and arms after standing and taking a look at the chaos around the room. Putain. Not how he intended this to go. Couldn’t even have a simple interaction in a store in this goddamn town. “Lucky for you, I am animal control. Obviously not on duty right this second. Or else, you know, I’d be prepared.” He sighed and pushed his hair back into place. “They’re pretty destructive, as you can see,” he said, gesturing to the poor table. Shit. “Uh, I can, pay for that, by the way. I sorta brought them here.” No clue how he was affording that but tables couldn’t cost that much, right? Shit. “Reproduce exceptionally fast, too.” He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. This was the worst part. People already had bad takes on animal control half the time. He’d been called an animal killer too many times for his liking. And it’s not like he could tell her these were clearly monsters and out himself. No one liked to hear about dead animals and he couldn’t blame them. But these weren’t sweet little mice, these were pests. Abominations. Capable of destroying full houses if left to their own devices. “For now, I’ll take them out of here. They’re definitely not adoptable, though. I’ll do a relocation out in the woods, though.” He hoped she would buy it. There was no way he was going to chance a snicker-snacker infestation in town.

It was the sudden calmness that stressed Irene out even more. Was this it? Were all of them caught in her jars? “You? You’re animal control?” Had he said that earlier before all of this happened? She couldn’t recall. A hand ran through her hair, the other hand almost resting against her damaged table before she spotted the broken leg. She quickly pulled back and sighed. At least that table was a hand-me-down from the previous tenant of the shop, and Irene had been hoping to upgrade to a more customized work surface. “Um, yea, th-thanks, I think,” she said mindlessly, unable to fully assess the severity of these creatures. “Like rabbits. Or rats. And I thought New York rats were damaging,” she muttered to herself. How did those things even scurry onto him and into her shop? “Right, your jacket though. If uh if you still wanted that mended, I can still take that on but I might need more time now because…” her voice trailed as she gestured to her mess of a space.

“Officer Langley, yeah. That’s me. Animal control.” Kaden almost felt like he should apologize for that fact. Almost. He did catch them, after all. “But yeah, like rabbits or rats. Only they’ll eat through your table legs. Uh, anyway, if you don’t mind, I’ll go get something more appropriate to transport them and come back.” He’d make sure to bring a knife with him, too. Maybe a few extra cages in case more of them showed up in the interim. He was about to turn and walk out when his eyes shot back to the jacket, brows raised. Right. He almost forgot. “Oh, yeah. If you can. No rush. At all. Um, thanks, and,” he paused to look around the room, “sorry. I’ll be back soon.”

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #threadofheart #irene #something seams off

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ao3bronte · 4 years

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the skies belong to no one

[Chapter 2: Marinette]

[Chapter 3: Adrien]

The ride home from Marinette’s is quiet, with nothing but the sounds of Parisian traffic to keep him company. Nathalie isn’t in the vehicle today, not that she would have provided much of a distraction; she’s been off sick more often than not these days and Father has been keeping her primarily on office duty until she gets better. Adrien worries for her health sometimes, especially when she gets into one of her coughing fits, but he’s long learned not to interfere or ask questions. He used to make that mistake quite often when he was younger, but not anymore.

Adrien is sixteen and wears the weight of the world on his winged shoulders.

(He’d feel a lot lighter if he didn’t have wings at all.)

He finishes his homework mechanically and eats dinner in the dining room alone. Again, Nathalie doesn’t come around to watch or report on tomorrow’s schedule. He checks his calendar between bites of chicken and notices that he only has a fitting tomorrow. It’s a light week, which is nice. He enjoys them as the rarity that they are and tucks his mobile back into his pocket, wary of being surveilled.

Adrien doesn’t have anything better to do tonight but sit and stare blankly at the screen of his monitor. He tries to play a game but he can’t focus, his mind too wrapped up in the potential consequences of Marinette’s discovery. No one is allowed to know about the binding or the clipping; while wing binding — like plastic surgery and hair/fur pigmentation — is one of Hollywood’s worst kept secrets, having his wings physically clipped is completely illegal in the European Union. Only felons have their wings clipped and even then, not many felons are winged to begin with. The only other cases of wing clipping have happened to people who are victims of hate crimes and children who are abused by their parents.

Adrien doesn’t consider himself to be any of those things.

Or he didn’t, until this afternoon.

Marinette had looked like her soul had left her body when she noticed that half of his primaries were missing. He’d been getting them clipped every year since he was a toddler and he’d long gotten used to the painless, but still mentally exhausting, process. Marinette, however, certainly wasn’t. She’d pinned him with questions that Adrien had struggled to answer and suddenly his babbling, bashful friend had turned into a tempest right before his eyes, furious and vehement that she would find a way to “fix things”.

Adrien sincerely doubts that. There aren’t many people who could expose Father for doing something illegal and get away with it unscathed; in fact, he can only think of one. Maybe if he asks Ladybug kindly enough, she’ll whisk him off to a foreign island where he can live in peace for a year or two until all of his primaries grow back. Once he can fly with his civilian wings, he’ll be unstoppable!

Dubious, he laughs through his nose and flops belly first onto his bed. His foreign island would have to pave a postage address or else he’d run out of his allergy medication. It’s a pain in the ass, being allergic to his own feathers. It’s why he loves being Chat Noir instead.

Well, maybe Ladybug could drop him off at a nice vineyard in Corsica for a year or two. He could help prune the vines and get a great tan in the process...he’s never shied away from hard work before and after a few months, his Adrien hands would be just as strong as the ones encased within his Chat Noir gloves.

That, and once he turns eighteen, his trust fund will be released to him and Adrien will finally be able to stand up for himself about the wing clipping. Adrien’s no idiot; he could barter his modelling for his freedom if he really wants to right now, but with no cash in the bank, Father would surely make his life as miserable as he could under his formidable roof.

He doesn’t want Father to get in trouble with the law. In anything, Adrien would rather just...try and navigate that landmine on his own. He’d long learned that asking about being allowed to fly would lead to punishments — sometimes severe — but Marinette had been clear about one thing. Wing clipping is wrong in every sense of the word, especially if it’s done without consent, and Marinette seemed to even grow paler when he explained to her that he’d been clipped for as long as he can remember. Father was and always has been explicit about never using his wings for flying; his wings are for decoration only, property of Gabriel®.

Until Plagg came around, Adrien just thought that being grounded, quite literally, was normal.

And, as Plagg assured him, having no autonomy was not a very normal thing at all.

Speaking of which, Adrien spots his companion staring at him from across his bedroom, “What?”

"You're thinking too loud," Plagg grumbles around a mouthful of Camembert.

"Sorry to bother you," Adrien snarks back, taking comfort in their familiar song and dance, "But one of my best friends just learned the biggest secret of my entire life and if she says anything to anyone and word gets out..."

Plagg meanders over, his eyes just a little bit greener than usual, "Eh, so what if Pigtails found out that dear old dad is cutting off your feathers."

"Well, when you say it like that…"

"Just because you're famous, doesn't make it okay," Plagg spits, "You ever see someone being declawed before?"

Adrien pales, "What?"

"It's not the same thing exactly," the kwami of destruction shrugs, plopping down on Adrien's pillow, "But one of my former wielder's had her claws removed. Want to know why?"

Adrien shakes his head. He really doesn't.

"Because it was the trendy thing to do at the time. Just like chopping off half your feathers and stringing you up like a roast chicken is now."

"Is it really that bad though? I mean, I can’t be the only person who’s clipped..." Adrien murmurs, glancing away, "Marinette made it sound like I was...I don't know, repulsive or something."

Plagg sighs, "All your famous friends, the ones on your Instant Spam—”

“Instagram.”

“Whatever,” Plagg quips, his whiskers raised, “The fur removal, the snout reductions, the eye widening, the scale bleaching; it’s all the same thing. Everybody’s gotta look like something different. But do they really want it? Just like you, you don’t think they have someone else pulling their strings?"

"I'm...not a puppet."

"And I'm the kwami of bath tubs," Plagg rolls his eyes, "Look, your dad has control of you. You don't. It's that simple."

Adrien’s expression hardens, "I don't want him to control me anymore."

"Then don't, cause guess what? You’ve got something all your other puppet pals would kill for”

“And what’s that?”

“Me!” Plagg rubs his paws together, his fangs gleaming in the lamplight, "You wanna be free? Let’s make it happen. What do you have to lose?"

[Chapter 4: Chat Noir]

#miraculous ladybug #ml wing au #ml wings au #adrien agreste #bronte's wing au

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fanfictionsrookie · 3 years

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Why Cinder Fall Carries The Thematic Message Of RWBY's Antagonists...

And What That Could Mean For Her Character.

...

Now, from an audience's perspective, I would say that the outcome of RWBY's villains carry the theme of, No matter your past or the moments that lead up to this point, one will eventually come at a crossroads where they decide what they want to be and what they want to do with their life, whether they want to be 'good' or 'bad'. And that, from what we've seen so far regarding our antagonists like Adam, Roman and Clover (more on him later) choosing the 'bad' whatever that might be in their situation, would have devastating consequences.

But first and foremost, they will and have to be given a choice.

Now admitedly these instances where characters are given these choices are either implicit, nuanced or are given in a second with minor characters which are in the majority and shall be addressed first.

...

Given Roman's last confrontation with Ruby, it can be said that he have long since chosen his path and that the consequences of that choice finally arrived. Although CRWBY not able to cast him for future volumes definitely plays a big part in this. So I don't want to place top my h weight on this charater, even if it's worth mentioning.

Of course we have Adam. Now his backstory definitely propels him down his path of spite and destruction, but one would be wrong by saying that other faunus, maybe even Ghira and especially Blake, have not tried their best to help him chose a better way to fight for his cause and work through his past by showing him the possibility of a better life. I mean isn't that part of the reason Blake stayed? Because of the hope that he could change and could be better, going so far as to try to tell herself that he isn't the monster he is becoming? Even Sienna, although her in own skewed way, tried to direct Adam's path. But Adam continuously chooses the path of spite and hate after every fight and altercation with Blake and Yang. Adam has had many chances, the fact that we didn't see what these different choices could amount to, is simply due to the fact that he has already made up his mind, and that, keep in mind, he was still a relatively minor charater compared to the rest. Adam's final crossroads with Blake and Yang approached, and he paid the consequences.

Now we Clover, and as an antagonist in his final scene the same would apply. He had the choice between capturing Qrow or Tyrian. Following orders or doing what is right. I bring this up to illustrate that even what seems to be a simple theme, there are still variations and exceptions, such as the gravity of the choices and consequences, that further reaffirms and explores the theme.

And I adress this theme through minor characters first, because if they are so clearly seen in them, then it's irrefutable that they are present in the main characters. But before we get to the main antagonists, because they do have a lot more complexities attached to them, let's look at the opposite end of the message to make sure it even holds up when explored.

If an antagonist continuously goes down the wrong path it will lead to negative consequences, then choosing the right path, will bring about a happier ending. And for a fandom that seems so caught up with the concept of 'redemption' (in quotation marks because I have a very different view on what that is and should look like, and I don't know if I'll be able to get to it in this post) one would think that RWBY would be rampant with 'redemption' arcs. But we've only seen one redemption throughout the whole show.

...

And that is Illia's arc.

She's interesting in that I see her as a foil to Adam (a post that I'm sure has already been made). Her change at deciding to change and lead a better life as well as the person to support her through this change, is also Blake. And when Illia does decide to do good, we are shown that she is not only happier, but she is working alongside Ghira to bring about the positive change within the White Fang, that she has sought to do for so long. Just like Adam, Illia has experienced incredible trauma because of the SDC, but she chose to not let it define her in the end.

...

Now, enough about these minor characters, let's look at team WTCH.

When we see Tyrian and Watts, and through the snippets of implicit backstory, that they have already chosen Salem against all else and that they are set in that choice. I've brought up antagonists who have already chosen their path like Roman, and they are important because since they are already solidified an antagonist who has no desite to change, they pose a much bigger threat and it adds variation to the theme in how it's presented.

Now Hazel interestingly has been the only one who understands the means of what they are doing and the negative consequences of their actions, but that for him, it is ultimately justified. Even so, Hazel does use force as a last resort. And what was more surprising, was the reveal that Hazel aligned himself with Salem, not because he necessarily believes in what she is doing, but that she is impossible to go against. This most likely makes him feel that there isn't any choice, not with an equal possibility of outcome at least. But Ozpin/Oscar challenges that notion. He tells Hazel that Salem can be fought and he gives him a choice, or at least an option to chose his role in this battle. Because of our track record of antagonists sticking to their initial role in the narrative, it would make sense to deviate from that and give us Hazel who has the possibility of turning to the good side. However, how this plays out has yet to be seen. I do think that he would die in the end. Why? Because the narrative has yet to show how a charater can enact positive change and be better, even if they might not get to see the full extent of their actions. In short, exploration of the theme. Because the theme does not equate choosing the path of 'good' with the promise of living, simply that there will be positive outcome of such a decision but what that looks like will be different depending on the charater. Of course this means that that choosing the path of 'bad' won't necessarily mean death. It could mean being imprisoned (Looking at Ironwood, possibly Mercury) or something lighter that simply means having to move locations often and be on guard (Looking at Neo). These outcomes still fall in line with the show's message regarding villans but because they lie on it's outskirts, I would expect them to be portrayed sparingly at best, as not to risk betraying what has already established but still maintain a sense of 'realism'.

...

Now, I've been talking about how the theme essentially brings about the 'good guys' winning and the 'bad guys' losing, but that could literally be any other piece of media. But like I said in the very beginning, it is only the outcome of the theme, not the theme itself. What makes RWBY's message regarding its antagonists so different, is its emphasis on choice.

And that brings us to the true message.

That bad people can and should be given a chance to be better, to become better people.

This doesn't mean that people would take that road, or that they would want to change, but that they should be given it nonetheless. Some people will get more than once chance, and some of those consequences will be more dire than others. Not everyone can easily become better, but for everyone there will be a possibility, no matter how small.

...

And this brings us to Cinder Fall.

Now, in light of the events in her backstory, some would consider Cinder killing Rhodes instead of surrendering to be her crossroads. After all it I'd what firmly set her in place to seek power in the name of freedom. And if this was shown to us sooner, if Cinder died in volume 3 or 5, I would have agreed… to an extent. If Cinder was a more minor charater, or died in volume 3 or 5, that scene would have been enough content to show and give us an explaination for her choice and it leading to her downfall. As for why only partly agree? Because it wasn't presented as a choice. Killing Rhodes and her abusers weren't a crossroad, but rather a threshold, even if it's one she chose to cross. Because the path presented to her was the only one Cinder believed is available to her. Remember, it's also important to think how these choices are presented to the characters and whether they see them as such. Of course, it's important to remember that Cinder is a main villain, our first villian and the only cillian we've seen struggling to this extent, it makes sense that her story is much more detailed and complex, but there is another reason I will get to later (she is also not the only one whose story has been treated as such, but more on that later.)

So Cinder has been shown to make choies that garders to her current goal of achieving power. But only because she is not presented with another path that gives her the freedom she wants (keep in mind that does does not exuse Cinder's actions or that she shouldn't face the consequences thereof, and trust me, she has faced many). Salem does not give her choices. She gives Cinder a path, a way forward, and consequences should she not take it.

Becoming part of Salem's ranks wasn't her crossroads either. Only, Cinder *thinks* it is. She thinks she has chosen the path to freedom, but she will eventually come to the realisation that this is not it. That there is another way. And the only thing that can show her this.

...

The Relic of Choice.

While Emerald and perhaps Neo will be the ones to support her if she chooses to become a better person, the person she wanted to be, no person could ever convince her that something like that exists. Not after what she has seen in humanity.

But the relic can.

It can show her a future where she does take a different path, and one where she doesn't.

This is Cinder's crossroads. Getting to the Relic is the end goal that has been unknownly set up for Cinder since the beginning. The Relic will most likely be the last thing that stands between humanity's destruction, it represents the height of the final conflict and ties into Cinder's charater specifically. For once it is not something she necessarily wants, but something that she needs. That is why Cinder carries the thematic message around RWBY's villains. Because if it were anyone else, any other relic, any other Maiden, the theme would not hold up. It would be something entirely else.

...

Cinder is at her crossroads.

She has been shown to where each path leads.

What will she choose?

The theme only says that one should be given the option to chose to be good, not that they will or should.

It could go either way.

But I believe Cinder will turn to walk down the path of good.

And here I can hear half of of you groaning. But before we go into why I think so, because again, everything at this point is simply my prediction, let's look at what will happen if Cinder choses power over true freedom.

She will most likely die, of that I have little doubt, or sentenced to life in prison or constant running at the very least. This all runs in accrodance to the theme. A main villian stays on the road of evil despite being shown a better way, and pays dearly for it. Only...RWBY has already done this…

...

With Salem!

As our big bad and one of the main villians and the pure epic that was 'The Lost' fable, we have seen all the prominent moments and choices who made Salem who she is. And at every turn, the death of Ozma, the death and rebirth of the world, Salem has chosen the path of Darkness and not just figuratively either. (And yet, they still managed to make her sympathetic at one point which is a commendable feat). The gods might have been cruel in their punishments, but all things considered, gracious inhow many times they have given her the option to change her ways. Of course Salem's final decision came with the death of Ozma and her children.

Salem might be the big bad, and defeating her is the end goal, her actions dive the basis of the plot and our heroes' actions. As these final moments of her story concedes with Cinder's story, I very much like the idea of the story ending with the defeat of the antagonist who chooses the path of darkness, while one of RWBY's main themes linger in its audience's mind as another antagonist chooses the path of good, a new life. Now I'm getting much to sappy and caught up in these satisfying nuances and touches.

But my main point has been made. Cinder will choose to change, but what could this new life look like? What are the consequences? After all, we've already established that the gravity of the outcome does not concede with the choice even if it it is presented as positive for good and negative for bad.

In short, could Cinder's change be an act of goodness that concedes with her death?

...

It could, but I don't think it will.

While it is true that the death of a charater could carry a positive outcome to others, it does not align with Cinder's goal of freedom, therefore death would be seen as a punishment and contradict the theme itself. And because Cinder is the charater who embodies it, it means that the end of her story should end on a positive note.

This doesn't mean Cinder becoming a better person will be easy, it doesn't mean that she should be forgiven, that she shouldn't face the consequences of her past.

But after everything she went through, after all her struggles and trauma, Cinder would have the life her younger self wanted. The freedom she wanted to choose for herself.

And I think that is a ending we can, and should hope for...

#rwby #cinder fall #rwby analysis #rwby8 spoilers #rwby8

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valkyrieelysia18 · 3 years

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RWBY Rewrite: The Relics

Hello there everyone! I’m back with another post on my Rewrite series that hopefully will delight you.

Admittedly, this might be an odd topic after my last post. Well, that one was pretty big and I wanted something a bit smaller to tackle. I had thought about getting into the White Fang next, but that post is going to be a dozy and then I thought of the Relics. And I thought “Sure, that’ll work.”

The Relics, in my opinion, were handled poorly in the show. Items that can grant great power and when collected something amazing/terrible have been done before and done well (which is honestly true a lot of stuff in RWBY). In RWBY, we didn’t know the Relics existed until over halfway through Volume 4, reduced the Maidens to essentially gate keys in Volume 5, and even at the end of Volume 6 we only know what the lamp can do on its own. I mean come on, Dragon Ball took one episode to explain its titular item (granted they were a lot more simple, but still)! So we’re going to tackle these things.

Now before we get into the individual items, let’s address some things that about the Items as a whole.

The first thing to note about the Relics in this Rewrite is that gathering the four together won’t summon the Gods back to Remnant. The Brothers in this Rewrite are much more distant figures, preferring to observe their creations rather than directly interfering.

So then, why does Salem want to collect them? The full reason will be in her and Ozpin’s backstory post, but to put it simply Salem has a more personal history with the Relics here and wishes to get them back. She views that leaving them in the hands of mortals will just lead to them abusing the items, causing more pain and suffering for the world. Not an entirely baseless viewpoint as we’ll get into soon enough.

The next thing to note is that before the Relics were under the care of the Academies and Ozpin’s group, each was possessed by a former Royal Family. Vale had Choice, Mistral had Knowledge, Vacuo had Destruction, and Mantle had Creation. Granted as time passed and certain things were failed to be passed on, by the time of the Great War only the Crown of Choice’s abilities were known and even then only to a select few.

Each Relic will have a have a spirit that will be involved with the item’s power. I’m not sure whether it was said in RWBY after I left that each Relic had a spirit or whether Jinn was an exception, but I’m going to roll with the first one. Also, each Spirit technically doesn’t have a biological sex, they choose how they want to look.

Also, only the Lamp will have the blue glow. The other Relics will associated with the color of their kingdom: the Staff having a White crystal, the Sword having an Orange gleaming blade, and a Green jewel in the center of the Crown. They can still have the gold, but this will make them more distinct from each other.

Finally, they are NOT the major Grimm magnets as presented in the original show. While they do give off a sort of a signature that Grimm can recognize, it’s a faint one. It would attract Grimm attention if it stayed out for too long in the wild or Grimm would be looking for it in an area if Salem directed them personally to it.

All right, now let’s get down to business!

Knowledge: Jinn

The Lamp of Knowledge is the only Relic we’ve gotten to know it’s full abilities as well as meet its spirit. Even then, I think that three questions every a hundred years is maybe a little too limited for something that is a power of the gods. So, I’m changing it.

Instead of granting three questions within a certain time frame, I like the idea of giving anyone who uses the lamp the ability to ask Jinn one question of the past and present. Everyone is entitled to knowledge after all and they should determine how they want to use it. I know, I kind of stole the idea from the scepter from the direct to video Aladdin King of Thieves, but I think it’s a good setup. It’s powerful, but it still has limitations. This will contrast with its opposite the Crown, which will be more exclusive and deal with the future.

Then there’s Jinn and am I the only who thought her design was lazy? I mean we get it, she’s a genie, but there’s nothing interesting or unique in her design. Pretty sure comparisons to Aladdin’s Genie and Magi’s Paimon have been made. I’d leave her redesign to someone who is fully capable of putting a new spin on it, but I would like the idea of her not having a consistent wardrobe. Maybe have her wear a top that was similar to something found in Central Mistral while wearing a hairpiece you would identify being at home in Eastern Mistral. Not only would this symbolize how multicultural Mistral is, but also how history is made of many different parts.

Now Jinn herself wouldn’t be that different of a character from canon. She would still be a rather pleasant, teasing spirit who is quite thrilled to finally be out of the Vault again. Amongst the Relic spirits, she’s probably the one who has the least regard for mortals, but that’s partly because of what people usually use her for. Most people would ask about power, riches, dark secrets; it got kind of boring and predictable for Jinn and it was less pleasant when they would get mad at her for telling them truths they didn’t want to hear. Let’s just say a few rulers of Mistral that used her Relic didn’t use it very wisely.

Jinn’s favorite type of petitioner would be someone like Oobleck: someone who would ask her about some part of history that doesn’t have much known about it and she doesn’t get to talk about nearly as much as she’d like to so she actually goes into more detail than necessary. She’d also respect someone who probably knows the answer she’s going to give them is not one they want to hear, but is resolved to face the truth whatever it is.

Creation: Eve/Ev

The Staff of Creation is a bit interesting in that works better for some than others. It uses what a person pictures in their mind to bring what they want to reality, within reason. So it really works best with someone very creative and has a clear vision of what they want to do. It can’t create something that’s alive (like a dog) or that had been living (like someone who has passed on). Also, the more detailed and involved an item is, the longer it will take for the Staff to recharge. For example, the little crystals (which are basically a crystallized form of the staff’s power) Ironwood has been creating as an alternative energy source would take a couple of hours to a day depending on how many were created at a time. Whereas a huge detailed palace would take decades to over a century, longer than it would have taken them to build in real time.

Eve is the Spirit of Creation and would have a rather androgynous appearance. I was also thinking that the Spirit could be called Eve or Ev depending on who’s addressing them. Their main color would be white, but their appearance would resemble that of artist. Perhaps having smudges of charcoal on their face or a splattering of color on an apron. I think it would be really ironic that the kingdom that banned the arts at one point would have a Spirit that is quintessentially an artist, heck Eve might have locked up during that time and forgotten about until after the war was over. Again, I’d leave the design to someone who is much better suited for it.

Now in this Rewrite, the Staff is no longer in the Vault because Ironwood took it out. He reasoned that having a powerful tool that could be used to in the fight against of Salem would be wasted simply being left in the Vault. Needless to say, Eve doesn’t like the way Ironwood is using them. It’s clear the power is just a means to an end to him, something he can use to make Atlas more secure. There is no love or passion for what he’s creating and he treats them with no courtesy or respect, not listening at all when they try to talk to him. When Watts eventually comes to retrieve the Staff, Eve is basically “Oh thank the Brothers! I could care less about your plans, just get me out of here!” It’s sort of a summary of what partly causes Ironwood’s fall: the inability to get that people aren’t purely logical beings that will do what they are told for the greater good, but emotional irrational people who will snap when pushed too far.

The best person Eve could work with is someone who specializes in the visual arts: painting, sculpture, architecture, etc. Someone who has a very clear vision and obviously very passionate about the things they want to create. Eve would also enjoy someone who is perfectly okay if they don’t get their creation exactly right on the first try and is more than willing to take Eve’s advice/criticism.

Destruction: Adamou

The Sword of Destruction is perhaps the easiest Relic to understand and use. Using the sword will increase your physical abilities and the sword can send out waves of power that can devastate a group of foes or alter the environment. However, using it takes quite a bit of energy. Best case scenario will involve a week of recovery. Worst case scenario you expend years of your life. Even the King of Vale with all his power, lost two or three years he should have had to live on that Final Battle of the Great War. This cost was so great to the old Vacuo Monarchs (and given that most of their past was peaceful) that it was hidden away and forgotten about until the Great War happened and the last King of Vale rediscovered it.

I’m still little unsure of how I would like Adamou, the Spirit of Destruction, to look like. The closest example that comes to mind is something like Nemesis from Fire Emblem Three Houses: a large older battle scarred man with light armor. Once again, I’m a writer and not a character designer so if anyone has ideas I’d be willing to see them. That being said, his name is actually a West Africa variation of the name Adam, putting him in contrast to Eve. Anyone who has a passing understanding of the Old Testament should probably understand what I’m doing here.

Adamou, despite his outward and intimidating appearance, is actually a pretty easy going spirit. He’s also somewhat disappointed in how he doesn’t get used as much compared to his brethren, but he does understand why and has great respect for the old rulers of Vacuo for doing what they did. He enjoys a good fight, but he also enjoys competitions of all kinds whether physical or mental. You could talk him into a little kiddie board game and he’d go at with as much glee as slaying a hoard of Grimm. As the Spirit of Destruction, he knows better than anyone that life is finite and it’s best to live and fight to the fullest until your time comes.

Adamou would gravitate to people like Yang or Pyrrha: those who enjoy combat and wish to live their life to the fullest. Those who’s spirits burn bright even if it means they burn out quicker. That said, he also respects those who fight to protect those they love and things they believe in (to an extent, he’s not fond of fanatics who would give their lives away without a second thought for something obviously sketchy).

Choice: Caesar

Whereas the Lamp reveals the past and present, the Crown of Choice is focused on the future. Those who wear it have the ability to see the possible outcomes of any choice they face. As such you can see what the cost and consequences of your options. That being said, it’s not a hundred percent as the future is always in motion and there’s no telling how other people’s actions and choices may affect what you decide. Still, the predictions do tend to be very accurate. There’s also the possibility that wielder may obsess over said choices or may become dependent on the Crown, but that has happened very rarely since Caesar usually stops their wielders before they go too far in this.

The thing about the Crown is that unlike the Lamp, it can only be used by one person. When its user dies, the Crown is free to be taken up by another and once it has bonded to someone they are bound for life. Now the Crown can be lent to another person, but every wielder can only do so once in their lifetime and those who borrow it can only use it for three days. On the fourth day, the crown will tighten around the person’s head, giving great pain and hallucinations, and will only stop if that person takes it off at which they can no longer use it.

Seeing the obvious issues of such a powerful item potentially falling into the wrong hands, the first King of Vale came to an agreement with the Spirit Caesar to set up a trap/test to anyone who would try to claim the Crown. The Crown would be placed in a special chamber when not in use with a multitude of different crowns and circlets in the room. It’s up to the person to choose the right crown with no outside input. Get it wrong and the crown will turn to ash and that person is forever barred from taking the Crown. The twist? The true crown’s appearance in the trial is in fact not a crown, but a wreath of laurels (which can be seen on Beacon’s symbol). And if you’re thinking this sounds quite a bit like the scenario from Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade, that’s cause it is as its kind of the sort of trial you’d find in a fable or fairy tale. It would take either a very thoughtful and self aware person to pass the trial as well as one not greedy. It’s also made a little more complicated as the Crown looks slightly different for each of it’s wielders, which will be noticed in an earlier scene with our group of heroes in a hall of portraits of the past monarchs of the Vale. Because that is what determined who would succeed to the throne of Vale.

And yes, we will learn a lot more on this when I do the King of Vale Rewrite Post.

As a result of the nature of Crown, Caesar is the spirit that is the most close to mortals as they build a strong personal relationship with their users. As part of this, when a new wielder is chosen, Caesar will take upon the appearance of their predecessor to guide the new one. I’m still a little torn over whether Caesar should appear as the old wielder when they first took up the Crown, in the peak of that person’s life, or how they looked when they died.

Caesar, for the most part, acts as a sort of advisor to their wielder. That can come off as them acting very parental which given how often the Crown would pass from parent to child is quite fitting. They will give advice when asked for, but in general will advise against using the Crown’s power if its a situation their user can more than handle on their own. They are very much the type of person who would advocate that “It’s the journey, not the destination” and is more than willing to let their wielder fail if it meant they could learn something from it. That said, they do get very attached and is probably the only Spirit that would openly speak positively about Salem due to her history with them and also has issues with Ozpin. They and Jinn will be the ones to eventually give the more specific details to group about Ozpin and Salem’s history after they got the general outline elsewhere.

Caesar has worked with many different types of people, but the main thing they each had in common is that they were the type of people who were always concerned with the consequences of their actions for those around them and the kingdom of Vale as a whole. They generally work best with someone who is humble and empathetic. However, they generally don’t like someone if they put a singular goal above everything else without consideration of all the consequences (again, issues with Ozpin).

Well, that turned out longer than I was expecting it too. I guess I just got into the creative juices. Anyway, I think I’ll do a different post before coming back to do Cinder. And just as a reminder people, I dropped this show at the end of Volume 6 so don’t bring up anything after that to me in a comment.

See you soon!

#rwby rewrite #rwde #the relics #jinn #relic spirits

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

Text

Marinette: A legacy

I really tried to make this angst but the story had a mind of it’s own by the end. It’s about 6,000 words so... Buckle in.

Broken; that was what Marinette was. Broken was what the gods had deemed her. She was born wrong. She shouldn’t exist. She shouldn’t be alive. She shouldn’t be anything. But she did exist and she was very much alive… technically.

How much could anyone like her ever really be considered alive? She had been born to death. Somehow death had created a life.

It had done it once before with another girl; but that girl had been born right. From the moment she had come crying into the world, it was clear the girl had favored her grandmother’s heritage, and, in time, her mother’s as well. The girl was named Hope.

Marinette favored her father’s; skin a little too pale, heart beat a little too slow, beauty a little too otherworldly. However, when it was clear that her small body craved blood to survive, only then did they fear the worst.

By they, she meant her birthmother. A werewolf who had want power and powerful bloodline; a Hope of her own. Suffice to say, she didn’t get what she wanted. Instead of Mother Nature and moon in one being; they got blood and darkness, the moon would come later.

They feared she’d become her father. A monster in human flesh. A boogieman that all other boogiemen feared. They couldn’t let that happen. They refused to let that happen. So they sent Marinette away. Sent her away before her father could find out; before his family could find out. She was given to a couple with magical knowledge; a man with a wolf’s heritage and a woman who had grown up with vampires; Tom and Sabine.

Her birthmother died not long after.

Marinette’s father had been locked away at the time of her birth. She never met him. Most days, she just wondered if he knew she existed. Last she heard him and his brother Elijah had nearly died defeating some great evil. They were alive and well, still ruling New Orleans. Only reason she knew about him was that she had saved a witch’s life, and in return, and a bit of blood, Marinette knew who her birth parents were; the lines she came from. The sister she had.

Unfortunately the price was stiff. Marinette ten at the time when she came across a vicious looking man attacking a seemingly helpless woman. The man had been a werewolf. To save a life, Marinette accidently ended his in the process; awakening the curse of her mother’s bloodline.

No longer just a child of death and blood but now of the moon as well.

For a long time, Marinette had done everything she could to be normal despite her adopted parents assuring her that Normal was overrated. Never seeking out her own kind(s) out of fear. Fear of rejection as she was neither and yet both; alive and dead; werewolf and vampire. Fear that her father’s countless enemies would find her.

But while she could walk in the sunlight, she could also kill a man in the blink of an eye. While she did her absolute best not to hurt anyone, animals still avoided her. They sensed the predator inside her, lurking just beneath the surface. While Marinette loved designing and all things fashion and normal teen girl things, she still drank blood, howled at the moon, and had murdered someone.

Meeting Tikki when she was twelve had been a blessing and a curse. Tikki help Marinette realize that she could be something; that she didn’t have to be a force of destruction, that she could create, protect. The curse; Tikki told her that her she’d stop aging soon; death would take hold of her. She gave Marinette a four or five year timeframe. At max five years before her ability age would slow decreasing until it stopped altogether. And who knows when exactly that would be.

Maybe feared that she’d wake up at 30 and realized she still looked like nineteen-year-old.

And what would that mean for her biologically? Could she still have kids? A life? Would she have to spend the rest of eternity alone?

Now almost fourteen Marinette, outcasted by her friends over a liar, made guardian now that Fu had sadly passed away, she spent most of her nights with the Kwami. She had just been about to put the box away when… it happened.

Suddenly, wind started to swirl around her room. She felt a slight tugging at her arms; then it was like her entire body was being sucked throw a tube. Finally a tornado like cloud appeared on ceiling and the next thing Marinette knew was she was being pulled into it.

Marinette screamed and clutched the kwami box tightly to her chest. Wind and lightning swirled around her. She closed her eyes, and wondered just what type of kwami Hawkmoth had unleased on Paris now.

Then with a hard thud, she landed on a hard surface. She peaked and saw sunlight peeking through a window; and a forest of trees behind it.

Well, she thought, this is definitely not my room.

“Are you alright?”

Marinette looked up and saw a group of people; mostly teenagers and one adult looking down at her. The girl who had spoken had big brown eyes and dark, almost black, hair.

“I’m fine,” Marinette said hesitantly. “What’s going on? I was just in my room and now I’m here.”

“Great!” A blond girl snapped. “The ritual was supposed to summon one of your psycho family members. How’d you manage to blow that, Hope?”

“I didn’t!” A girl with long Auburn hair and light blue eyes. “I can’t have. It’s a simple ritual. It was supposed to summon my closest relative.”

Marinette blinked. Because Crap. “Did you say Hope?” She asked. “As in Hope Mikaelson?” Her sister. Her actual sister. She had always wanted to meet her.

“My name is Alaric,” The adult, a man, said as he stepped forward a curious look on his face. “How do you know Hope?”

Marinette decided to give them man her best scary vampire face, “I don’t. Not really,” She hissed, fangs bared. The she went wolf mode; not a full transformation. Her clothes ripped a little though. “I was born a vampire.” She answered. “And went werewolf later.”

“You’re hybrid,” Hope gasped. “A natural hybrid.”

“Yes,” Marinette nodded. “Now by closest relative; she did you mean proximity or by blood. Because…” She looked around. “Seeing as I am no longer in Paris. I’m guessing by blood.”

There was stunned faces as understanding slowly crept in.

“The ritual worked,” The brunette who spoke first said. “Surprisingly well.”

Marinette smiled, “I’m Marinette,” She introduced herself. “Your sister.”

“Another one!” The blond yelled. She tossed her hands up in the air. “Great. Just great!” And with that she stomped off.

Alaric pinched his nose, “Klaus is not going to be happy about this.”

“Oh he’s gonna lose his shit,” Said Kaleb; he’d met the original once and decided that was enough.

“No one is going to happy about this,” Hope yelled. She knew that none of her family knew about Marinette. They couldn’t have. Her father barely let her come to school. He wouldn’t have let her live in another freaking country. “How? Just how?”

Marinette took a quick step back; a dismayed feeling overtook her.

“Hey,” The brunette said softly, giving the younger girl a kind smile, “That’s not what they mean. They’re just a little shocked right now. I’m Josie; a witch. How about I show you around campus while everyone calms down a bit.” She held out her hand to Marinette.

Marinette clutched the kwami box but nodded and let Josie lead her out of the room.

“We need a plan,” Mg suggested.

“Plan?” Kaleb scoffed. “Bro, we need the Avengers. And Batman. Hell the U.S army and the xmen too. Klaus is going to tear this bitch apart.”

Alaric took a deep breath, “No, he won’t.” He looked to Hope. “Call Rebecca, Freyja, here. Don’t tell them why. They’re the sane ones. They won’t overreact. Then we deal with Elijah, once he’s handled. We go for the big fish.”

“Shark,” Kaleb corrected. “Great white sharks! Except more bloodthirsty.”

Hope nodded, “I’ll call them now, and then,” She winced. “Talk to my sister. Kidnapping and freaking out on her probably wasn’t the best first impression.”

“Nah,” Mj shook his head. “You tanked that.”

Convincing her aunts to visit her, under the guise of girl talk and girls day was easier than she expected. Talking to her little sister, while not harder, was considerably more awkward. She found the girl drinking a smoothie with Josie, giggling about something.

“Hey,” Hope smiled. “Found you!”

“Kidnapped me!” Marinette corrected.

Hope winced, “Yeah. I should apologize, right?” Marinette gave her a look. “I’m really sorry. But hey, I got to find out I have a little sister. That’s awesome.”

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” Jose said and gave them a thumbs up.

After that Hope and Marinette told each other about their lives. Marinette lived in Paris all her life and loved fashion; about the bakery and her parents. She didn’t find out about her birth family until she was ten. Hope told her what their family was like and what it been like growing up in New Orleans; and the best Beignets in the world.

“You’ll dad,” Hope grinned. “He’s artists like you, like me. Uncle Kol’s a bit wild. Uncle Elijah a bit too gentlemanly. Aunt Rebecca and Aunt Freyja are amazing. They’ll be here tomorrow. They will love you. They all will,” she assured.

Marinette called her parents not long after and assured them she was fine. It was a little magical accident. She was with her sister. And asked if she could please, please stay for a bit of the summer break. Reluctantly, after a long conversation with Headmaster Alaric, they agreed, on the condition that Marinette calls them once a day. They send her stuff as soon as they could.

The next morning, Hope greeted her Aunts with the biggest, most charming smile that she could. The each pulled her into a hug.

When Rebecca pulled away, she smirked. “Now what did you do?” Before Hope could protest, her aunt added, “That’s the smile Klaus’ uses whenever he did something wrong.”

“Me?” Hope denied. “No, I didn’t do anything. I merely found out something. Something I should be rewarded for; I should get a raise in my allowance.”

Freyja crossed her arms, “uh huh, so it’s something good?”

“It’s great,” Hope smiled. “But I’m going to need you to stop Dad from murdering everyone here and… in Paris.”

“Paris?” The blonds chimed together.

“Paris.”

Explaining that she accidently summoned her sister, a child no one ever knew about, had been complicated. Rebecca didn’t believe it at first. Neither did Freyja Until Freyja had Hope repeat the ritual and a little darkhaired girl fell from the ceiling.

“Hope, we talked about this,” Marinette complained. She wore some borrowed clothes; a red top and light blue skinny jeans. “You just can’t summon people. I could’ve been in the shower.”

“Sorry,” Hope quickly helped her sister up. “Aunt Freyja made me.”

“Wow,” Said blond tutted. “Sold me out pretty quick there, kiddo.”

Marinette eyed the two beautiful blond women. Her aunts. “Hi,” She squeaked, her face red, and leaned closer to Hope.

“You’re adorable!” Rebecca squealed. Then she turned to Freyja, “Klaus is going to lose it.”

After some insight into Marinette’s life, a shopping trip, some fro-yo, Rebecca sighed when they returned back to the school. “We have to call Elijah.”

Elijah had been curious about why his sisters summoned him to Hope’s school with the clear request of: Do not tell Klaus. He knew it must be serious, and something Klaus would not like.

His sisters and niece greeted him in entry way of the school, and promptly led him back outside to the courtyard.

“What is the meaning of this,” He asked. “What purpose did I need to rush here a moment’s notice?”

His sisters looked at Hope who glared back. It was Freyja who broke first, “Klaus has another child; a girl. Her name’s Marinette, and she’s thirteen-years-old. And before you say; she is most definitely Klaus’ daughter. We checked. Six times. Two times a blood inheritance spell.”

“Yeah,” Hope drawled. “We have got to stop randomly summoning Marinette. She’s getting testy.”

He looked at the three women. Rage soared through him. “Excuse me,” Elijah said before promptly walking into the forest and ripping apart a tree. Multiple trees, in fact. When he returned, he straighten out his tie, and gave them a nod, “Where is she? Where’s Marinette? And while we locate her, you will explain to me how this occurred.”

They found Marinette, sitting on a window seal, sketching; lost in her newest design, as a means to stop her worrying.

“She’s look like him,” Elijah murmured. “The eyes, the nose, the concentration when creating new artwork.” This was his brother’s daughter, of that there was no doubt.

Marinette suddenly looked up at them, her blues eyes examining her newfound family. She chuckled, “At least you didn’t summon me this time.”

“I am your Uncle Elijah,” He prompted introduced himself with a small bow.

Marinette stood up and gave a small curtesy, “Marinette.” She said quietly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Elijah fought urge to coo. His sisters did not. Hope laughed, went to Marinette, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into a hug causing Mariette to laugh as well.

The resemblance was there for all to see. The blue eyes, the devilish smiles, the same noses, cheekbones; clearly sisters. Clearly Klaus’ daughters; his little girls.

Marinette turned out to be wonderful; a shy thing with impeccable manners and a softness to her that no one else in the family had.

“I can prevent half from being killed,” Elijah told his sisters when they brought up Klaus. “But this place will still be a blood bath.”

Marinette looked confused, “But why. I just got here. Harming anyone wouldn’t be rational.”

“Rational,” Rebecca laughed. “Yes because that’s the first thing that comes to mind when people talk about Niklaus; that he’s rational.”

“Rebecca!” Elijah hissed. He shook his head, “We need Kol.”

“Oh fuck no!” Kol yelled upon meeting Marinette, thus confirming his siblings were pulling some sort of prank. “I shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to be. You shouldn’t be here!” He yelled at his older siblings. “Klaus should’ve been the first one told.” He looked at Marinette. “I’m sure your great, love. I’ll love you in no time. However, right we have to prevent Klaus from committing mass murder… again.”

The plan was supposed to be really simple. They’d all go to New Orleans, where less of Alaric’s students could be harmed. Davina and Marcellus would distract Klaus long enough to lead him into a trap; a room where chains would wrap around the hybrid’s arms securing in place; only then would they tell him the truth.

When the Originals, Hope and Marinette arrived to the house they found Marcellus and Davina waiting.

“What the hell is about,” Marcellus asked. “Klaus is going to rip my head off, you know that right.”

“This had better be good,” Davina nodded. “He’s already threatening to wipe out my entire blood line.”

“Trying to prevent the massacre of Paris,” Freyja nodded, “You two girls,” She looked at her nieces. “Stay here. Davina wait with them please.” She looked at the vampires. “Elijah take lead. Let’s do this.”

Marinette watched in wonder as her aunts and uncles went inside. They didn’t smell afraid. They smelled concerned; like her mom did when she thought she left the iron on when she left the house.

Davina asked the smaller girl with Hope. “Can I ask…?”

Hope quickly shook her head. ‘Not now’, she mouthed and pointed inside.

Davina nodded.

Elijah kept his calm façade as he approached his furious brother.

“Brothers; sisters, my family,” Klaus drawled, fury in his eyes. “I thought we’ve grown past this. May I ask what I could’ve possible done to deserve? And what Paris have to do with anything?”

“You’ve done nothing,” Elijah assured.

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” Kol smirked. “It took two to tangle after all.”

“Release me!” Klaus demanded. “Now!”

Rebecca took a breath, “You need to calm. We have to tell you something; something important. And we need you to listen because we are telling you truth.”

“I’m in chains!” Klaus growled. “And you expect me to listen to you?”

“It is a precaution should you overreact,” Elijah stated. “We are your family. We need you to trust us.”

“Honestly, just don’t go batshit crazy,” Kol shrugged. “And kill half of New Orleans.”

Klaus bared his teeth, “I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I will not go back to that.”

Freyja steeled herself, “It’s about your daughter.”

Klaus’ entire body stiffened, “What?” Fear and anger coursed through him. Was Hope alright? Did someone harm her? Where was she?

“Klaus, you have another child,” Elijah said bluntly. “A girl named Marinette. She’s thirteen and a born vampire; a hybrid since the age of ten. She is yours.”

Klaus froze in shook. His mind processing his brother’s words. He had another child; another daughter.

“Hope called us,” Rebecca said. “All of us to her school. She informed us of Marinette then, brother. And we needed to secure you because we were worried about your reaction when you found out.” Marcellus scoffed. She turned to look at him, “Did we do the right thing?”

The black man shook his head, “No.”

“What did we do wrong?” Rebecca glanced at him and then back at Klaus.

“Well, you used chains,” Marcellus explained.

“What should we have used?”

Marcellus crossed his arms, “Ahh, it wouldn’t matter.”

Klaus roared and with all his strength he ripped the chains from the ground, destroying the hardwood in the process. He calmly removed them from his wrists and walked past his siblings. He could hear Hope’s heartbeat, and Davina’s as well. But there was another with them.

The siblings followed after.

Once Klaus was outside, his eyes went automatically to his beloved Daughter, “Hope,” He greeted slowly. Hope gave him a weary smile. Then to Davina. And then finally to a girl younger than Hope but had the same blue eyes, nose, and cheek bones. All which both girls got from him.

“Marinette,” Klaus whispered.

The girl gave him a shy smile.

Marinette couldn’t believe she was finally meeting her birthfather. It would definitely.

The girl, his daughter, was smaller than he expected; smaller than Hope had been at that age. Her presence wasn’t as confident either. There was a look in her eyes that she tried to hide but he knew well; fear. She didn’t smell afraid, just worried and a little sad. She was afraid of rejection.

“I have been blessed with two beautiful daughters,” Klaus said soothingly. “You live in France, yes. I will started my revenge there.” And there went the good mood.

Everything was chaos after that.

Klaus insisted that his daughter was stolen. Marinette insisted she had been adopted. Her mother had given her up.

“And the father has no rights?” Klaus asked. He tried his best to remain maintain his false calmness. He never liked to get angry in front of his children.

“Well, in her defense, technically you are dead, brother,” Kol smirked when Klaus hissed at him. “It would be rather complicated to prove otherwise.”

“My parents,” Marinette said. Klaus growled. She continued on. “My parents are wonderful. They’re bakers with a successful shop. They love me very much.”

“Bakers!” Klaus grumbled. “My daughter was raised by bakers!”

Marinette was rather surprised just how long it took to convince her father that mass murder wasn’t a suitable response for missing out on his daughter’s formative years. Then again, he was Klaus Mikaelson.

After her father did calm down, it was pleasant. She was formally introduced to Marcellus, Rebecca’s husband, and Davina, Kol’s wife. She learned more about her family’s story and became content. Marinette was given a room next to Hope, and they laughed as they immediately left to decorate; chaperoned by Klaus, who was more than happy to pay for his girls’ shopping spree.

Marinette was able to get paints for her new room, different cloths for makings clothes, more sketchbooks, paintings, and posters. Klaus bought her whatever she wanted, it was a wonder Hope wasn’t spoiled.

First week living with her family she cooked with Freyja, played Poker with Kol, painted with her father (which led to a paint war where Hope and Marinette ganged up on him). Elijah taught her to waltz and told her all the things history forgot. She designed dressed for Rebecca, and tended to follow her free spirited Aunt around whenever she could. The only difficult part was sneaking away whenever there was an Akuma alert. But luckily Freyja magic’d her room to be soundproof so Marinette could privacy. Trixx had no problem pretended to be her, should anyone knock.

Everything was good. Everyone was happy. Except for two times. The first came when Hope mentioned during dinner about returning to school.

“Oh, I’ll go with you,” Marinette said brightly to her sister who sat next to her, not noticing how her words caused the room’s occupants to stiffened. “I can give Lizzie the dress I made her. She’ll love it.”

“I still don’t get why she likes you and not me,” Hope asked incredulously.

Marinette stuck her tongue out, “Josie likes you well enough. And Raphael. And Landon. And…”

“Oh shut up,” Hope blushed.

Klaus sat his cup down slowly, “You will not being anywhere. You will remain here where you are safe.

Hope and Marinette shared a look. Marinette had learned quickly that Klaus was overprotected. Marinette wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without an escort; usually a member of the family. Hope raised an eyebrow ask to ask if Marinette wanted her to handle. Marinette tilted her head the side, with both eyebrows raised; a team up, maybe. Hope smirked; that was a yes.

“No,” Klaus chastised. “No silent conversation at the dinner table. Or at all.” As much as he loved that his daughters got along so well, they tended to unite against him to get what they wanted.

Hope smiled sweetly, “We won’t gone long. School’s letting out. We’ll be gone A day or two at most.”

“I really like Hope’s school,” Marinette said earnestly. “I’ve never met so many kids like me before.”

Elijah decided to aid his brother. “A school full of barely trained vampires, witches, and werewolves. It is dangerous.”

“Oh come on,” Hope crossed hers. “I’m there most of the year.”

“That’s different,” Freyja said. “You’re older; more mature.”

“Well that’s hardly fair,” Kol narrowed his eyes. He used to get told the same thing when he was a child and still human. “Marinette is plenty mature. Age shouldn’t be a factor.”

Klaus glared at his brother, “And yet it is. You will remain here with me. Hope will give Lizzie the dress you designed.”

Hope and Marinette shared another look and then turned to their father with their ultimate weapon in full force; puppy-dog eyes sat to ultimate cuteness. “Please!” They chimed together.

Klaus’ mouth dropped slightly. The adorableness of his daughter was nearly crippling. “No,” he said again. “I will not budge on my decision.”

The girls frowned, and increased their puppy eyes to death level. Their lips wobbled, their eyes glistened with presence of potential tears.

“Stay strong, brother,” Elijah told him.

“Say the man who is doing his best to avoid looking directly at them,” Rebecca giggled.

Klaus’ face softened. No, he told himself, we will not give in. “Never!”

“Pretty, pretty please,” The teenage girls pleaded.

“…Fine.”

The next not so good time came a month later; when Marinette got an Akuma alert late at night. She had been getting a midnight snack when her phone beeped. Marinette had no choice but to rush upstairs, transform, and leave. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t shut the door all the way, meaning that the silencing spell didn’t go into effect.

It had been multiple Akumas; terrible ones that led to Marinette calling in Kagami, Chloe, and Luka to help her and Chat. It had taken a long time, a lot more than Marinette realized. When Marinette finally asked someone the time, she realized half the day had passed. She hoped Trixx had been able to keep up the illusion.

Marinette portaled back to her room feeling more tired than she ever had before. Only to find Freyja waiting on her bed with the kwami box on her lap.

“Do you have any idea how much your trouble you’re in?” Her aunt asked.

Turned out, her father had come to check on her after he returned home for the night only to find the room empty. However, it was only when his family confirmed they had no idea where his youngest daughter was, that he got angry. They all got angry; fear that someone had taken Marinette. They broke out in different search parties; trying to locate a scent to follow.

Freyja, however, went to Marinette’s room, and to her surprise as soon as she touched the door, Marinette’s voice said she was busy. The blond woman opened the door to find a little fox creature looking frightened.

The kwami had decided to explain a few things about themselves before the angry looking blond decided to try to smite them.

“Oops?” Marinette offered.

Freyja raised an eyebrow, “Oops?” She shook her head. She handed Marinette the box. “Come on, guardian. You have some explaining to do.” Freyja opened the door for Marinette.

Marinette, with the box in her hand, reluctantly followed her aunt to the living room where her family waited.

“Marinette!” Her father yelled, and before she knew it she was in a hug. “Where were you? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” She promised, and pulled away. “I’m fine,” She said again to her worried looking family.

“What happened?” Hope asked; beyond emotionally exhausted and physically, from the nights events. “You just disappeared.”

Freyja nodded, “It’s turned out our darling little Marinette is more magical than she led us to believe.”

Marinette nodded and opened the box. The kwami flew out of it; setting everyone on guard. The kwami flew around the room introducing themselves. “So… Did I ever tell you I was a superhero?”

“No,” Marcellus chuckled, reaching out slowly for the floating Ox type creature. “No. You didn’t. I’d remember that conversation.”

“Yeah… well it’s like this…”

The Ladybug, magical guardian of little gods, and fighting a supernatural terrorist didn’t go over well. To close out her story, and to prove it, Marinette transformed into Ladybug, and transformed back.

The room was silent.

“You are a child,” Elijah finally said, rage slowly growing inside him. “Children do not go to war. They are not sent to war!”

Marinette winced, “It’s not really a war. More like a Batman versus the Joker.”

“But people have died,” Rebecca said, petting Pollen. “Sure, they’re brought back but they still died; you’re partner, Chat Noir died a few times.”

“What happens if you die, kiddo,” Davina asked. She played with Ziggy in her lap. “Only Ladybug can reverse what the akuma’s done. What happens if Ladybug dies before that happens? Who brings you back?”

Marinette looked down, and remained silent because they all knew the answer to that. No one. If ladybug died, she died.

“So this dude’s possessing school children,” Marcellus said. “And everyone else is so much as feel a lick negative emotion. The only people trying to stop the psychopath is a thirteen-year-old who can do a magical girl transformation leading a bunch of other teenagers who can do the same trick? Really.”

“We’ve been hunting him,” Marinette sighed. “Hawkmoth is possible to find.”

“I’ll help!” Hope said. Roaar was on her shoulder. “You have other Kwami. I can use Roaar. I’ll fight with you.” Her sister was a superhero. It was the coolest thing ever. Everyone knew who Ladybug was. Her posters covered a lot of her fellow students’ walls.

“No!” Half the room shouted.

Klaus glared, “No more fighting. This ends.” Someone had been trying to kill his little girl since she first adorned her hero name. “I’ll find Hawkmoth. And I’ll rip him to pieces.”

“No, brother,” Kol stated. “We’ll rip him to pieces.”

There were nods.

“How? I can’t find him,” Marinette asked. “I can’t even scent him.”

“Fear not, little one,” Elijah had a dark smile on his face. “No one can hide from The Originals.”

Ziggy flew up and whispered in Davina’s ear. A dark look appeared on her lovely face, the room crackled with her power, “What’s this about you being bullied?”

“Bullied?” Hope shouted. “Who’s bullying you? I swear.”

Klaus closed his eyes. On top of everything Marinette was going through, she was being bullied as well. “Explain.”

And so Marinette did. She told about her Lila came to class; lied, turned everyone against her, and pretty much left her friendless in class apart from Adrien and Chloe. How her things were ripped up, the mean texts she got, all the dirty looks. She missed Alya, or rather she missed the Alya that had been her bestie. She missed hanging out with Kim and Alix. But she knew, even if the truth came out, they’d never be friends again. By the end of her story, Marinette had shed a few tears and looked very much like the thirteen-year-old she was.

“So Lila’s dead, right?” Kol said. “No objections? Good. I get dips.”

“You can’t kill her.” Marinette stated.

“Pretty sure I can,” Kol drawled.

Hope narrowed her eyes, “Not kill her. We’re going to do something worse.” She promised. No one messed with her family and got away with it. “We’re going to make her tell the truth.”

“Compel her,” Rebecca nodded. “Make the little shrew learn a lesson or two.”

“Why haven’t you compelled her?” Freyja asked. “I would’ve had the little bitch take a long walk off a short ledge by now.”

“It’s not nice,” Marinette shrugged.

Kol pinched his nose, “Oh we have so much to teach you.” He smirked. “Mikaelsons’ are not nice.”

“We’re not mean,” Hope added. “But we’re not nice.”

“And most importantly,” Klaus broke in. “If you mess with one us, you mess with all of us. We are family.”

“Always and forever,” Hope said.

Marinette nodded. “Always and forever.”

For the next few days, her family watched her like a hawk. Marinette didn’t know if Hawkmoth had been drained from the multiple akumas or what, but it took a week before another alert appeared.

Luckily for her, Hope was on guard duty while the rest of the family either in town taking care of business or was in the woods, close by, perfecting their hunting skills. Marinette had been sketching with Hope in the living room when her phone chimed. She glanced at it and saw the Akuma Alert.

She glanced at the stairs. Could she do it, she wondered. Could she make it up the stairs to her room and portal out before anyone caught her.

“Don’t even think about,” Hope said putting down her paint brush. She held up her own phone, and gave Marinette a look. “You’re not the only one who gets notified now. If you’re going, I’m going.”

Marinette sighed, “Fine but if you’re going to fight; you’re suiting up.”

“Just one thing…” Hope trailed off. “It’s another multi-akuma alert. I think we’re going to need more help.”

“What are you thinking?”

Hope grinned.

Lizzie, Josie, Raphael, Landon, and MJ stood in front of Marinette and Hope looking stunned. After a few vows of secrecy, Marinette had transformed into Ladybug in front of them.

“You’re Ladybug,” Lizzie grinned. “And you want me, us, to do a superhero team up. I knew I liked you.”

“And you don’t like me,” Hope added. “What the hell?”

“That’s what’s up,” Kaleb said and gave MJ a low-five. “Free trip to Paris and I get to be superman for the day. Let’s do this.”

“This is incredible,” Josie looked like her mind was processing a thousand thoughts a second, “I’ve heard of the Kwami and the guardian. But I just thought they were legends. Or that they’d died out. Dad’s going to flip.

Landon looked concerned, “it’s safe, right. The transformation. Not fighting an evil terrorists. Because that’s obviously not safe.”

Hope looked at Marinette who nodded. The older girl grinned, “Roaar, strips on!” And just like that, Hope was transformed into a tiger-themed hero; her hair was intricately braid back, she had ear and a tail; her custom was mostly black with orange stripes. She had long claws, and staff. “Easy as pie.”

“Oh I’m in,” Raphael said. “Try and stop me. Wait do who I get?”

That started the request and arguments.

In the end, Lizzie got Trixx. Kaleb got Stompp. Josie got Fluff. MJ got Barrk. Raphael got Wayzz. And Landon received Mullo.

Marinette briefly briefed them about their powers and what to expect. She opened a portal.

Hope ran to the window, “Hey, we’re going to fight an evil megalomaniac in Paris be home soon.” And then the kids were gone.

Elijah and Kol who had been in the woods when they heard Hope yell raced back. However, by the time they arrived, the kids were gone.

“Ok, Marinette is just not making this easy on us,” Kol huffed. “She’s not even pretending to.”

Hawkmoth didn’t see the new team of heroes coming. The akumas were quickly dismantled. The older teenagers had the time of their lives running around Paris, using superpowers in public, something they always had to avoid before; and just being their full awesome selves.

When the battle was over, and the kids had transformed and retuned all phone call they’d missed. Alaric wasn’t happy about their spontaneous superhero trip. Klaus wasn’t happy they left without informing him, or taking him with them. He also wasn’t happy about Caroline calling just to yell at him for her daughters running off to Paris to become an Avenger.

The kids promised they’d be home soon; said the kwami to transport had to recharge. Technically that was true. However, the kids took their sweet time roaming around Paris. Marinette introduced Hope to her parents, who easily took a shine to their daughter’s sister.

Lizzie spent most of the time; spamming the online student website with pictures of herself in Paris.

When the kids ran into Lila and Alya on the way out of a boutique. The girls had been nasty as soon as they saw Marinette, causing the older teens to glare. They had heard from Hope about Marinette’s bullying situation, and they were ready to raise hell. However before Marinette or even Hope could get involved, Lizzie Saltzman. She knew a bully when she saw one.

“You bad hair and awful clothes,” Lizzie pointed at Lila. “What’s your name?”

“Lila Rossi,” Alya snapped. Lila pretended to cry. “The Lila Rossi. The Nicest girl on the planet.

“Yeah whatever,” Lizzie pulled out her phone. She showed her phone screen. “Look at the type Lila Rossi in google, and nothing. Google doesn’t care. Don’t see why I should.”

Alya blinked, “That’s not right,” She murmured and pulled out her phone. And sure enough, “Nothing. Just what I put on the Ladyblog.”

“You mean the blog Ladybug herself discredited?” Josie asked, with a raised eyebrow. “Because of lies. Maybe Lila’s why stopped trusting you.”

Mj stepped forward and looked Lila in the eyes, “You are going to tell everyone in your class just how much a liar you really are,” He compelled her. “And for the next month, you are only going to tell the truth. You will not bother Marinette again.” He looked at Alya. “Both of you leave. Now.”

With blank stares the girls departed.

By the time Marinette got back to New Orleans and to her family, her phone had been flooded messages of apologies. She didn’t respond to a single one. Instead, she helped her family prepare for their trip to Paris.

Hawkmoth wouldn’t know what hit him.

#ml fic #ml salt fic #ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #legacies #klaus mikaelson #vampire diaries #hope michaelson #the orignals

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kali-writes-meta · 4 years

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Volume 8 Predictions: Salem's Next Move

This is my third post of Volume 8 predictions, after the "I May Fall" analysis and the Monstro= Space BattleshipYamato post. If you want to read those, they're posted earlier on this site.

Volume 8 opens with the ball in Salem's court. What is her immediate goal? We know something about her long-term goals, but what does she want right now? My theory may surprise you, but bear with me.

I'm going to start by making three suppositions. None of them are proven, all of them may be wrong, but there's solid evidence behind each of them.

Supposition A: Salem Doesn't Want To Be Here.

Remember the jokes about Salem's bath being interrupted by Ironwood's video call, and that's why she covered herself in smoke? That basically happened on a larger scale. Salem wants to defeat Atlas eventually, but not now. Both times we saw her in planning meetings with Team WTCH, her focus was on getting the Sword of Destruction from Vacuo.

We heard Cinder tell Neo that Salem planned to attack Atlas only after finishing the Vacuo job. From what we've seen, Salem's original timetable read like this:

1) Absorb Fall Maiden Powers, destroy Beacon, kill Ozpin, capture Crown of Choice Relic;

2) Absorb Spring Maiden Powers, capture Lamp of Knowledge Relic, let White Fang destroy Haven;

3) Absorb Summer Maiden Powers, capture Sword of Destruction Relic, destroy Shade; and then

4) Absorb Winter Maiden Powers, capture Staff of Creation Relic, and destroy Atlas Academy.

Under the original plan, she would have met the Atlesian military with the powers of three Maidens and three Relics at her command, including the Sword of Destruction. As it is she's meeting them with one unstable Maiden and one Relic which hasn't officially reached her hands.

Conclusion: However impressive she looks to us, Salem THINKS she is underpowered for this engagement.

"But what about the Grimm?" you ask. "Salem has an Army, an Air Force, and a Paratrooper Division worth of Grimm at her command." True, but let's examine that aspect more closely.

Supposition B: Salem's resources are finite.

Salem has tremendous power and infinite life, but not infinite resources. Where do Grimm come from? According to both Jinn and what we've seen, the Grimm emerge from the God of Destruction's "blackened pools of annihilation".

But what happens to the pool after the Grimm emerge? Well, thanks to Kevin the Wyvern, we've seen that.

Back in Volume 3 we saw Kevin drip blackened puddles of annihilation on the streets of Beacon, and Grimm emerge from them.

Now look carefully underneath the Grimm when it stands. There's no more puddle. It's been used up.

But that's just a puddle. Pools are bigger. Yes, at first. But let's compare pictures of the God of Destruction's home both in "The Lost Fable" and in the modern day. The cliffs, crags, and outcroppings of glowing purple crystals are the same, but something's happened to the water table. In ancient times there's a deep lake present.

When Emerald and Mercury see that same spot, it's a dry lakebed with a few scattered pools at the bottom of it.

Salem is running out of Grimmpools. And that means Salem is running out of Grimm.

Salem assembled an Army, Air Force, and Paratrooper Division worth of Grimm once by burning through her remaining Grimmpools. (I'm not counting Monstro since he looks like he was literally upcycled) Could she do it twice?

Eh, maybe.

Could she do it three times?

That would be pushing it.

Salem is running out of monsters to surround herself with. Humans have no such limits; we breed and we adapt. I think this fact is what started Salem's quest for alternative energy sources in the first place.

Salem has been forced into attacking Atlas before she has the Relics and the Maiden powers. But she's Salem. This wasn't Plan A, but she's going to make the best of it.

So what do people do when they must attack an entrenched force with what they consider underpowered troops? There's two options.

Option #1 is to go for the throat. Launch an attack with so much fury the enemy doesn't have time to recover before you've ripped their head off. It's a good plan if you've got a clear target. But if you can't reach the unshielded access port that goes straight to the reactor, it's a bust. Salem could do it if she had the Winter Maiden Power, but not without it.

Option #2 is to bluff. Do just enough damage to scare the enemy, then demand tribute and threaten to do worse if your demands aren't met by a certain deadline. I think this is what Salem is going to do.

There's no need to damage Mantle any more. She's proven she can destroy it at her leisure, and Ironwood's proven he doesn't care about Mantle. She has to attack something Ironwood does care about. She has to hurt Atlas or the Fleet parked over Atlas, and she'll probably go for the Fleet. That leads to

Supposition C: Salem's Flying Whale is based on Space Battleship Yamato.

In my last post I speculated that Monstro is based on Space Battleship Yamato. If that's the case, it's going to have some version of the Yamato's signature weapon, the gravity-based Wave Motion Gun, i.e., a death ray. It probably also has the Wave Motion Gun's signature flaw, a charge limit.

The logical thing for Salem to do would be to turn the death ray on the Fleet and incapacitate them. Then, while the death ray is recharging, demand the Maiden, the Relic, and probably Oscar turned over to her at such-and-such place by such-and-such time and she'll leave them alone.

(Wasn't it so nice of Ironwood to arrange all his battleships like ducks in a carnival shooting gallery? I can't even excuse it as a lack of combat experience after what Roman Torchwick did at Beacon.)

She'll have to corrupt or destroy the military before she leaves of course. Humans are excellent at adapting to threats, and they'd come up with something to annoy her given the opportunity. But there's no need to tell them that up front.

And with a deadline and a meeting place, RWBY & Co. have an opening for shenanigans.

#rwby #james ironwood #rwby salem #rwby volume 8 #rwby predictions

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thewritewolf · 4 years

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Clever Like a Fox

Summary: A few years down the line and while the face of the enemy has changed, the ones who fight for what's right haven't. Heroes once thought retired return to the fold, leading to Rena Rouge sharing a patrol with Snake Noir. It might be a quiet night, but Alya always has something to say - in the mask, or out of it.

Hello and welcome to my first of four entries for Adrien AUGreste! This will be the final part of my six-month adventure with daily prompts, starting with Marinette March. I had originally intended to do the full month, but at this point I'm too exhausted to do a long-form fic like that again.

Now, the week's prompt was Snake Noir, and the daily prompts I used were Oblivious, Civilian, and Unify.

@adrienaugust

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Years passed for Ladybug and Chat Noir. Circumstances changed, as they often do - Hawkmoth was gone and another villain emerged from the woodwork to make sure the two of them didn’t get too much of a vacation. Of course, with the fall of Hawkmoth, that opened up opportunities that had been closed for far too long.

When the villain made themselves known a second time, they weren’t just facing Ladybug and Chat Noir. Carapace and Rena Rouge had joined them - this time, on a much more permanent basis. After all, Marinette had argued that the kwami had been locked up for too long. They needed to see the world, be with people, if they were going to be effective.

Which was part of the reason it wasn’t Chat Noir and Rena Rouge on patrol for tonight, but rather Snake Noir and Rena Rouge. Neither was the other’s ideal partner for patrol, but Ladybug could only be in one place at a time and she was busy tonight working on her piece for the summer fashion show, her big debut in the industry.

And Adrien intended to be there… as supportive as a friend could be.

“So… what’s on your mind, big cat?”

Snake Noir looked over at Rena Rouge, her back against a section of wall facing him, laying along the edge of the building that he was dangling his legs over. She was watching him curiously.

“Nothing much, I guess,” he said with a sigh.

The silence stretched on, awkward and uncomfortable. It was at this moment that he realized that of their little group of friends, he spent the least time with Alya. With the two of them, it had always felt more like they were the friends of friends rather than being close themselves.

“Nino been up to anything recently?” He retreated to safe, common ground.

“He’s your best bud as well as my fiance,” Rena said with a raised eyebrow. “Something tells me you’ve got just as good a scoop on him as I do.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Snake Noir picked up a small rock that was on the roof and turned it over in his hands before dropping it into the empty street below.

Another stretch of silence passed between them, ended only when Rena sighed loudly and stood up.

“Okay, big cat, how about you help me out with the Ladyblog?”

“What?” He looked up at her, a confused look on his face. “Do you want to drop your transformation and have me give an interview?”

“No, don’t be crazy,” Rena said, waving with her hand as if she could physically brush away the idea. “It is too late in the day for an interview to not look fake. But!” She grinned and raised a finger. “If the Ladyblogger just so happened to spot two patrolling heroes during her nighttime jog, I’m sure they would love to give their favorite journalist a selfie.”

“Oh would they now?” Snake Noir smirked despite himself. “Sounds awfully generous of them. Especially Rena Rouge since she’d have to be in two places at once.”

Rena Rouge made a disapproving noise. “Poor, poor Chat. Your mind is closed to the possibilities.”

Snake Noir raised an eyebrow at her. “That so?”

“Yes. What you don’t realize is that I don’t need to be in two places at once. I just need to look like I am.” She grinned and pulled out her flute, giving it a twirl.

Snake Noir frowned. “I don’t know… Ladybug doesn’t like us abusing our powers like that.”

“It's not like we have a timer to worry about.” Rena rolled her eyes. “Besides this helps throw people off my scent. Otherwise, having no foxy hero pics taken by me on the blog looks supes suspicious.”

“Hm… alright, I guess,” Snake Noir conceded and stood up. “Where do you want to have this spontaneous photo op take place?”

“That’s the tricky question.” Rena Rouge hummed in thought and tapped at her chin. “Somewhere that looks like I could have been just passing through, with enough light for the photo, and empty enough that there won’t be anyone around to poke holes in my story.”

It would take ten minutes of combing through the city before she found her perfect spot, but Snake Noir didn’t mind. Years of modeling had given him a good eye for ideal photoshoot locations and eventually it was him that found the ideal place for their little deception.

Rena pulled her phone out from one of her suit’s magic pockets and set it up against a wall. The soft notes of her flute hung in the air before feeling almost like they condensed and pulled together until they formed a perfect likeness of her civilian identity. Specifically, an Alya that was all dressed up for a jog. Maybe a little too much, but no doubt she was trying to sell the story as best she could.

The illusionary Ladyblogger went from having a blank expression and standing passively to excitement lighting up her eyes, a wide grin splitting her face. She became slightly crouched as if she was caught in the middle of an excited bouncing in place.

“Okay big cat,” Rena the real said, “put those modeling instincts to good use and give me something that’ll make the Ladyblog sizzle.”

“Sizzle, huh?” Snake Noir let himself smile just enough that he knew the small fangs granted to him by his transformation would peek through. He gave the camera a hungry look, the one that his photographers had been asking for more and more these days.

Once the phone had taken a few pictures, Rena lunged forward and eagerly looked through them. The fake Alya turned to smoke and vanished. Her eyebrows rose high up her forehead.

“Oh wow. That’s gonna get the comments section talking, big cat.” She looked up at him and grinned knowingly. “I’m starting to get why M has been such a big fan of your more recent photoshoots.”

His cheeks turned red. “I’m sure she just appreciates them for the fashion.”

“Yeah, sure, if you say so. Not a whole lot of, ah, fashion on display when it comes to your underwear line though.” Her grin turned downright lecherous. “A lot of something else though.”

Snake Noir made a strangled sort of sound as his mind baked from the heat of his blush. Ladybug had photos of that shoot up in her room?

“Come on,” Rena said with a chuckle. “Let’s get back to patrol.”

A few minutes later and they were up somewhere high again, about as secluded as they were before. Really, at this point, they couldn’t even call them patrols. Even when he was with Ladybug (his heart did a backflip as he remembered her and the recent revelation), patrols tended to be just wandering the city or talking the night away.

“Looks like you need to get your mind off things.” Rena Rouge crossed her arms, a teasing look in her eyes. “At least until you get home.” She rested her chin on he palm and stared down at him.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Snake Noir muttered. A little more loudly, he asked, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Well, that brush with the Ladyblogger got me thinking - how would you use your powers in day to day life? Assuming you could manage it discreetly?”

“Uh… hm…” Snake Noir rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about it. Destruction was a bit dangerous to use in his day to day life.

“Let me give you some more examples while you run that through your head.” She held up her hand a raised a finger with each point. “Photo ops, like you saw. Recreating stuff. Enhanced stories and hot gossip. Party favors.”

“Well, I’m not sure how much I could use cataclysm for normal stuff, but I bet I could get a lot of mileage out of Second Chance.”

“Ooo, lots of opportunities there. Although it only goes back, what? Five minutes?”

“Yeah. But! There is plenty of stuff that would be under five minutes that I could use it for. Especially if it is just casual use.”

“Go on,” Rena said as he paused.

“Well… cooking for starters.”

“I thought you said it only lasts five minutes?”

“Which is about how long it takes for me to mess up a given recipe.”

Rena laughed in surprise and shook her head. “You two are a perfect match, I swear.”

He cleared his throat nervously. “A-anyway. I’d also practice jokes - see which ones land, which ones don’t.”

“Make yourself seem funnier than you are, hm?”

“I’m already funny, but there is always room for improvement.”

“Fair enough.” Rena had a thoughtful expression on her face as she tapped her chin. “You know, there is one more thing you could practice now that I’m thinking about it.”

“And what’s that?”

“How exactly you’re going to ask Ladybug out on a date.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Alya Cesaire #Snake Noir #Rena Rouge #ml fanfiction #AdrienAugust #my writing #Clever Like a Fox

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swamplatibule · 3 years

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Okay so lemme talk about Steel and Smoke for a second

This was actually my first paracosm, and it‘s still my favorite to this day. I have a dream to turn it into an animated show someday, and if I can do it, it’s gonna be badass.

Okay so- The world? Genre? Space opera. The system is called Xeliah, which is also the name of a para in a very different paracosm, but that’s not important right now.

There are seventeen different planets in this system. There used to be nineteen, but two got completely destroyed in the Great War. Are there different systems? Oh yeah. Absolutely. Nobody in Xeliah really cares about them, but they definitely exist.

About 100 years ago, a woman named Silver Thurberi took of Xeliah. Just built a bigass army and went “heyyyy so I’m the queen now deal with it”. Actually there was more to it than that, there was a really long war n shit, but forget that lets focus on the now, which is under the cut because its long as shit and I don’t want to completely take over anyone’s feed.

Silver’s bloodline has been ruling over Xeliah for the past 100 years, leading up to the current empress, Arayla, and her two daughters, Fang and Nucifera.

Now Arayla? She is an absolute bitch. She’s manipulative, abusive, gaslighting, just kinda of a shithole of a human being with the audacity to consider herself better than everyone else.

She raised both of her daughters to believe that if they weren’t perfect, they were worthless. Nucifera took that in and started pushing herself to be perfect, to the point where it was self-destructive and harmful, but it put her in her mother’s favor. Fang wasn’t able to do that like Nucifera was, and thus was cast to the side. She ran away when she was ten and Nucifera was fifteen.

As of right now, Nucifera is 21, and she’s been assigned to handle the growing revolution while Arayla does her whole tyrant of the galaxy thing. That means keeping tabs on influential people, intimidating anyone who could cause a problem, and most important to the story, taking down those who are already symbols of the revolution. Namely, her current focus is taking town the galaxy's most infamous thief, the Silver Songbird. Who happens to be her sister, Fang, behind a mask and a fancy set of armor. But she doesn't know that. But before she takes down the Songbird - who, by the way, doesn't actually have any connection to the revolution, but is thought to be a part of it because they only steal from really rich pro-Araylian people, which makes sense because not many of the revolters are very well-off - there's one person she needs to take care of first. May Eternity. She's the elected leader of one of the seventeen planets, although most of the leaders are basically just figureheads for Arayla to exercise her control through. May Eternity, however, is rumored to be an important revolution leader, and there's pretty substantial evidence of it. So Arayla needs her gone, in a way that can't be traced back to them. Nucifera sends an assassin. And he fails. But, he gets out of there before he can be captured, and he manages to place the blame on the Songbird. So that kinda works in Nucifera's favor, because it puts the Songbird on the wanted list for both pro-Araylians and revolters. Technically, it doesn’t work that smoothly, because it does solidify in a few people’s minds that May isn’t a revolutionary and the Songbird is, and stuff like that. It’s messy. It’s complicated. Another issue is that the Songbird is simply a thief, not a killer, and therefore a pretty large amount of people refuse to believe that they were behind the assassination attempt.

(look at this beautiful woman, I just want her to be happy but my brain won’t let her without a Zuko-level redemption arc)

But that comes in later.

That whole murder thing is what kicks off the whole story. May’s son, Nico, wants to go after the Songbird. His mother won’t let him, saying that it’s too dangerous, but he wants answers. So he goes to find them in secret.

Here’s Nico, by the way. I’d add a link to the Picrew I used, but I believe it’s been deleted now so I kinda can’t, sorry.

Clover is a spellcaster, someone who was born with unique paranormal abilities. Hers, specifically, would be Haemokinesis and Electrokinesis. Fun fact! Spellcasters are actually a race, not just people randomly born with powers. And another fun fact! People don’t know it’s a race, they just assume all spellcasters are dangerous individuals who developed scary powers and plan to use them to destroy the world. Final fun fact? It’s illegal for them to even just exist, and it’s punishable by death (That’s why this is tagged as ‘tw racism’). So Clover has it pretty bad. She’s kept her abilities a secret for a long time, but she loses control on her fifteenth birthday and now she’s exposed so she has to run.

[Now seems like a good time to mention that the outfits aren’t super accurate to them, it was a fantasy Picrew so I just picked what I could imagine them wearing in a fantasy AU. Xelian clothing and trends are pretty cool in my opinion, maybe I’ll make a post about that sometime in the far future]

She ends up at the Falcon Station, which is basically a really big galactic gas station and diner, except it’s mainly inhabited by those running from the law. It’s not strictly revolution or Araylian, everyone there just has a mutual understanding of ‘you leave me alone, I leave you alone’.. The Songbird happens to be there too, because they have a deal with someone who works there and also it’s one of the now few places where people don’t try to kill them.

Of course, someone has a few too many drinks and decides they’re going to try and capture the Songbird for the bounty, and a fight breaks out. Clover gets caught up in the middle of it, accidentally electrocutes the dude, and now people are trying to kill her too. The Songbird saves her, and they make it onto their ship in time to get the hell out of there unscathed.

Clover is absolutely terrified, which you would probably be too if you got stuck traveling with the most wanted person in the galaxy and weren’t certain whether or not they had tried to murder someone yesterday. She doesn’t fully trust the Songbird not to kill her, and the Songbird is trying to comfort her but it’s not working and they’re also just not great at conversations because the only reason they’ve had to talk to anyone for the past, what, two years was a deal for them to steal something.

There‘s a short exchange between them, Clover mentions something about ‘I don’t know a single thing about you I don’t even know what you look like and you expect me to just trust you I have self-preservation instincts okay’

And then they just take off the helmet, and Clover realizes a few different things at once:

- The Songbird just showed their face for her?? Um?? And they’re female, k cool we‘ll remember that

- This girl looks the same age as her, like fifteen, why is she fifteen that doesn’t make sense what

- Holy shit she’s hot

and now neither of them really know what to say, because how the fuck do you respond to that?

oh my god these two precious gays

anyway turns out they don’t actually have to say anything to each other because just then, in that moment, something bumps into the ship. Guess who it is?

Yep, it’s Nico, because he’s a terrible pilot and honestly lucky that he made it out this far without dying, but it’s okay we still love him.

Check in Sometime Later For A Part Two Because I Want To Post This Now

#tw abuse #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw war mention #tw mental health #tw racism #tw death mention #tw murder mention #paraportal #my paracosm #my paras #paracosm: Steel and Smoke #Para: Fang #Para: Clover #Para: Nico #Para: Nucifera #If you see any more trigger warnings I need to put then tell me and I’ll edit

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where-theres-smoak-2 · 3 years

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Riverdale 5x08 Thoughts

So usually I would write a review for an episode where I go really in depth and analyse everything that happened in the episode, give you all some of my theories for next but to be honest I just don’t have the energy for that. I thought after a couple of days processing everything and giving the episode a rewatch I would be able to but nope. So instead here are just some thoughts and opinions on the episode. Again just my own opinions I am sure there will be some out there who disagree and that is fine. Also there are spoilers.

1) So I didn’t like this episode and a large, well to be honest nearly all of that was because of the writing. The writing in this episode wasn’t their best and made me dislike so many of the characters, I mean they were all doing things that just seemed really random and out of the blue and I think the reason why it felt this way is because it was too rushed and these were character arcs that should have spread across several episodes but were instead crammed into well not even one episode really, it was more like half an episode. I just feel like in the first half the episode nothing really happened and then the second half everything happened which was really jarring. Overall too many storylines in this episode just felt rushed and alot of them just didn’t make sense.

2) Ok so the key party was way too hyped up for what it was. It had the potential to be soo much more interesting than it was. I mean it lasted no time at all and not much really happened I mean half the characters walked out and the other left with the people they came with. The most interesting thing that happened was the kiss between Reggie and Fangs. I also find it kind of funny that this was a key party and yet the only people who actually end up sleeping together is Eric and Minerva, off screen but its still heavily implied. I just think that the writers hyped this up to be some big dramatic scene and then nothing really happened. And like even within the show Cheryl really hyped the key party up, with all that talk about throwing some chaos at it, and it’ll be a sexual switcheroo, one last night of wanton abandonment to remind them of their youth and yup literally nothing happened. If I had written this scene I actually would have had Eric go first and pull Minerva’s key to set up the fun vibe. Then followed with Reggie to keep that oh this is kind of fun vibe going. Then I would have had Betty pull Archie’s key first or rather instead of Veronica pulling it. Then maybe Kevin could have made some kind of comment or joke about how Betty and Archie have already been hooking up, then Veronica could seem shocked and question them about it, which leads to Chad accusing her of being jealous of Archie and still having feelings for Archie, which leads to Archie standing up for Veronica and telling Chad to leave her alone, which leads to Betty asking Archie if he has feelings for Veronica. They could also have then ended the scene with Jughead drunkenly deciding to pick a key because he just can’t deal with this drama right now which interrupts all the arguments and leaves everything between all those couples unresolved at the key party which could then lead into those scenes that followed. It would have been more dramatic and tense but would still have lead to the same place if that’s where the writers really felt they wanted to go though I have my own opinions on that too.

3) Kevin. Oh Kevin I just, I don’t know what was going on with him this episode. I mean the opening was shocking, I do think the writers wrote that well, it did kind of send you for a loop and wonder what the hell Kevin was doing, because it did look like a was cheating on Fangs but then later we get the reveal that they are actually in an open relationship. Which fair do’s. However Kevin just seemed very self destructive in this episode it was like he wanted him and Fangs to fail. Something is clearly going on with Kevin and the synopsis for episode 9 talked about Kevin having to face something dark from his past so I am assuming his behaviour this episode has something to do with that. My theory is that it is related to the storyline from Katy Keene with Kevin and that Director Lester Darin. Whatever it is I do think he needs to talk with Fangs about it. I was 100% on Fangs side when he pointed out that they were having a baby together and asked what about Toni. Like a child isn’t something you should mess about with if Kevin wasn’t ready then he shouldn’t have brought up having children. And that’s what’s so odd about this situation is we find out that Kevin is the one that pushed for it all, it was him that wanted to have the open relationship, it was him who wanted to get married and it was him who wanted to have a child. Also its not just Kevin and Fangs who are involved in this its Toni too, Kevin needs to get his head on straight and fast because that baby is coming and soon. Look I wasn’t entirely happy with the Kangs storyline this episode because once again it felt rushed. It again felt like it should have been drawn out over several episodes. Just in this episode we for a moment believed that Kevin was cheating, then we found out they were in an open relationship, then we found out they were getting engaged, then we found out they and Toni were all having a baby together, which you know I called that all the back when they first announced Toni was going to be pregnant post time jump, we get all this infodump in the first half of the episode then by the end of the episode Kevin and Fangs are on the rocks. A lot of people are saying that they have broken up and I’m not sure they have technically broken up, they definitely aren’t in a good place though. But again if they had just had the engagement and baby announcement in say 5x04, then revealed the whole open relationship in say 5x06 it would have felt like a much more fleshed out story and not as rushed.

4) Ok so this is one that has probably split some opinions in the fandom but I want to talk about Veronica. Now I do want to make it clear that I am not hating on Veronica here but there were some things she did this episode that I was not a fan of and again I think alot of it was just bad writing. I was not a fan at all of the way Veronica used Archie to make Chad jealous, to me that was very petty and very childish and yes I know that Chad was also behaving childish but I was kind of hoping Veronica would rise above it. I also was not a fan of the way she was flirting with Archie whilst still married to Chad, I don’t care how crappy of a person Chad is that still made me uncomfortable. But on the flip side of that like with the whole Barchie cheating storyline I am aware that people can make mistakes and get caught up in their feelings, I mean they are still only young adults, so they are still growing and learning. I think the thing that bothers me the most with Veronica or rather I should say the way they wrote Veronica is that whilst Betty and Archie clearly showed that they felt remorse and guilt for cheating Veronica did not seem to give two hoots about the fact that she was flirting with her ex behind her husband’s back. And I know people will say ‘oh but Chad’s a bad person and treats her bad.’ Ok fine then just leave him, that's not an excuse to behave that way. Also the other thing that bothered me was her attitude at the key party when she pulled Archie’s key. Now at first I thought that meant Archie would go home with them both if they followed the rules but then when I rewatched it I realised that when someone picked keys they would then retrieve their own from the bowl. After Veronica announces ‘oh look I’ve got Chad’s keys’ she then picks her own up out of the bowl. Also the fact that Kevin and Fangs both had their own keys in the bowl and yet they left with separate people. So I actually think Chad and Veronica were going to leave with separate people so it wasn’t that the three of them would be hooking up it was that Veronica was going to leave to hook up with Archie. It makes sense then that Chad would not be comfortable with this. I mean I can’t blame Chad for not wanting his wife to leave a swingers party with not just her ex but with the same guy who Veronica was deliberately using to try and make him jealous and who he has already voiced his suspicions about. The part that bothered me was when Chad first protested she said don’t be rude those are the rules, I was just like girl what are you on, she might as well have said ‘don’t be rude Chad I want to have sex with my ex and you need to be happy about it ok’ and yet a few moments later when it gets too tense for her liking and she gets Chad’s keys instead and Cheryl says that’s breaking the rules, she tells Cheryl to call her lawyer. So basically when it suits her and she wants an excuse to hook up with her ex its the rules but when it becomes an inconvenience then she’s breaking the rules and you can call her lawyer. It just did not paint Veronica in a good light at all in my opinion. But I also hated that scene when Chad confronts her asking if she just called him to humiliate and make him jealous. Firstly this tells us that Veronica called her husband and asked him to come to the party with her which really why would you do that if you are having feelings for another man and you felt like you needed time away from your husband? It makes no sense. Also she lied and then said no she wasn’t trying to make him jealous and the way she said it made it seem like she was insulted that he would even think that. Again didn’t paint Veronica in a good light. Also to be clear I am not saying that because it didn’t paint Veronica in a good light that it did paint Chad in a good light, he’s still trash but I don’t really care about him so you know whatever. And once again I was not ok with the fact that what brings her to the realisation that she needs to end her marriage was again the fact that he wasn’t ok with her hooking up with her ex at a key party. Like I am sure this isn’t how the writers meant it to come across but that’s how it did and I just feel like there were so many other ways and other things that could have brought her to that realisation then the key party. I also I was not ok with the fact that literally 5 seconds after she decides to divorce Chad she is making out with Archie. I just, no it’s too fast and it’s too rushed. I do not think it was necessary for them to kiss in that moment. Like it would have been fine if she had just said you know ,’I’m divorcing my husband,’ and then have Archie have some kind of look not even necessarily say anything and leave it there. It would have left some intrigue for next episode like ooh does this mean they are going to rekindle things, will they kiss next episode. Instead because of how close it was to her deciding to divorce her husband the scene where they reunite just felt icky to me, I mean the ink on her divorce papers isn’t even dry yet, hell scratch that it isn’t even wet yet because she only made the decision to divorce she hasn’t even filed for divorce yet so technically she’s still married. But more than all of that my biggest problem with Veronica’s storyline this episode is once again it revolves around the men in her life. Like the writers seem incapable of writing this woman as single. Even when Archie left Riverdale in season 3 which would have been the perfect opportunity to have Veronica be single for a while they matched her with Reggie. Now don’t get me wrong I loved those two together in fact out of all the people Veronica has been with her and Reggie are my favourite, I just think they worked really well together. But again it brings me to another thing that made me feel uncomfortable and that is I’m sensing this pattern with Veronica where she’ll be with someone when Archie is away and then when he comes back she’ll ditch the other person for Archie. Which would be ok if it weren’t for the fact that she always seems to do it in a way that makes it look like she doesn’t have any care for the other person’s feelings. Unfortunately this makes Veronica seem not just disloyal but kind of cold and that’s not a true testament to Veronica’s character at all. I just get so frustrated with the way they write for her sometimes. I mean there was so much that was badly written about her marriage to Chad and just this episode in general as I said before painted alot of the characters in a bad light. I just wish they would keep Veronica single for a while and write a storyline that is solely about her because there is a heck of a lot more to her character than just who she’s attracted to.

5) Ok Archie, this episode I just. To be honest I’m still too mad about it to even really talk much about it. I feel like out of everyone, the one the writers made look the worst this episode was Archie. I mean outside of who you ship, that conversation he has with Eric after Betty calls him because of her nightmare, was just well I don’t have words for what it was. It made it seem like all he cared about was sex and that he was annoyed/ didn’t care that Betty was upset. This is not our Archie Andrews, in no world would he be that cold about Betty upset he has always been there for her. It wasn’t just insulting to Barchie it was insulting to Archie’s character and who he is at his core which is someone who always cares about his friends above all else.

6) Cheryl is once again going about everything the wrong way. I could understand her being a little upset at the fact that Toni is making this big happy non traditional family for herself because she probably thought that one day it would be her and Toni having the baby and so this might make her feel left out. I mean she was genuinely happy for Kangs when they announced their engagement. So its not like she doesn’t want anyone to be happy when she’s not. I also feel like given that Toni came to see her twice during the time jump which we learn when her and Archie are catching up in 5x04 that maybe originally she was hoping to include Cheryl in the whole baby thing and raise the baby all four of them together. A part of me still hopes that might happen but I feel like there needs to be alot of growing and healing for all four of the characters first. However unfortunately Cheryl’s jealousy at the situation leads to her being too manipulative and she arranges the key party so that she can show Toni how ‘fragile some unions can be’ and makes her the creepiest nursery in the world hoping that they can all hole up in Thorn Hill together. I am glad that Toni called Cheryl out on her manipulation I do think Cheryl needed that. Also as a side note I was expecting some explanation as to why Toni won’t be appearing in the next few episodes but at first I thought we didn’t. But then again on the rewatch I realised they kind of did. When Cheryl comes barging in after the baby announcement Toni tells her that she wants to take a step back from the Vixens. But then Cheryl interrupts her. I think the writers were expecting us to put the rest together ourselves which is Toni now that she’s nearing the end of her pregnancy she is likely going to be staying at home more and resting up.

7) I am ok with the kiss between Cheryl and Minerva. My hope is that Minerva is not going to manipulate her in some way and that this relationship will give Cheryl something that will make her a better person so that when she is ready to go back to Toni she has learnt something if that makes sense.

8) Ok so I want to talk about some positives because at this point it feels more like a rant than anything else and there were some things I liked in this episode. Obviously as a Barchie shipper I thought the firefighter scene in the beginning of the scene was really sweet and it was very aesthetically pleasing with all the candles and everything, it was just a well shot scene.

9) I am very intrigued by Jughead’s blackouts and trauma that he experienced in New York. I do have a theory that the visions he is seeing of the mothman and how twice they are shown as a reflection is suppose to be because he is seeing the mothman/ this monster in himself. I really do think that Jughead killed someone while blacked out and subconsciously he remembers it but he’s so traumatised by it he’s keeping it repressed. Now whether he killed someone accidently, or whether it was self defence or the drugs just made him lose it on someone I’m not sure but I am convinced that he is responsible for someone death somehow.

10) As always I loved Jughead and Tabitha’s interaction this episode. Tabitha is an absolute angel and such a supportive friend. The way she went to the support group with him and got him to open up to her. How she took care of him after the key party. She’s clearly come to care about him a lot and its nice to see someone supporting Jughead.

Ok and that’s it for this episode. I don’t have any theories for next episode but I’ve also kind have lost any enthusiasm I had for the show which is frustrating because up until this episode I was really enjoying this season but this episode was so bad its literally knocked the wind right out of me.

#riverdale #riverdale spoilers

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starswornoaths · 4 years

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Prompt 2: Sway

This is the story of how Serella Arcbane died. And how she got back up again.

(this is a tale of the Calamity, and what Serella was doing when it happened. Vesh is her pre-Calamity chocobo, and though she’s not referenced in recent post Calamity fics, rest assured Vesh is okay)

Word count: 2,788

Dalamud was falling.

The skies turned red. Creeks once flowing and brooks once babbling had turned ruddy, darkened by soot and blood. Even lacking a breeze, the Twelveswood seemed to sway even in the stillness as the world held its breath.

Gridania seemed to exist in constant contradiction in the days of darkness. Stillness and constant motion. The forest teemed with life, but the air was heavy with the scent of death. Few dared to leave the city-state for the Twelveswood out of fear of the voidesent that flooded it.

Dalamud was falling, and time was at a standstill.

Serella thought on her brother, gone to Limsa Lominsa years ago now, and prayed that he kept his head about him. She had no faith in the Twelve, but she begged them to keep him out of Carteneau. Her prayers contradicted the truth she knew, in her heart of hearts: he was a warrior down to his marrow. He was a helper. Provided he was as hale and healthy as his last letter had indicated, though he did not say so, she knew as surely as she knew the moon was falling, that he was on the battlefield.

Dalamud was falling, and her brother was at war.

A part of her hated that she wasn’t there. But there was no sense in her going, not when there were people here that needed help. Not for the first time, she had to remind herself that though she had learned much in her years under the tribe’s tutelage, she was hardly a soldier. The bow at her back wasn’t going to do much on the front lines. So she focused on what she could do here and now. Supply lines needed escorts, people needed tending, errands and messages needed to be ran. She did what she could of the thankless work, because she knew it was what kept the heroes going.

Dalamud was falling, and she was not enough.

Then the battle at Carteneau escalated. Fires began to spread throughout the forests. Already largely trapped in the city-state proper as so many were, it felt as though they were cornered animals watching their hunter close in. People cracked under the pressure, began to panic, began to try and flee into the flames.

Dalamud was falling, and the Twelveswood burned.

Serella, and many other adventurers, did what they could to ferry water— she and her own chocobo hauled much of it toward the brushes, wetting them against the flames and trying to douse what embers she could. It was not enough. It was not enough. The wood burned all the same.

What Adders remained in the city were clearly not made for risk taking. Those civilians that ran into the forests were largely left to die. Voidsent were only barely held back by the adventurers that were skilled enough to slay them. It was not enough.

“Please! My son!” Serella heard a woman cry.

Scrubbing soot from her eyes, she turned to see the wailing Elezen, clinging to the arm of a Serpent lancer who seemed desperate to shake her off.

“I told you—” He tried to growl.

“He’s just a little boy, he’s scared! Please, you have to save him!” She begged.

"I'm sorry, but he is lost to the wood."

Serella watched. And listened. This wasn’t the first person to beg for help from the Adders, was not the only one begging now. Help us, help our families. We’re scared. Help us, they begged of their protectors.

What a fitting name, the Adders, she thought bitterly, and spat into the dirt. Snakes, the lot of them.

Dalamud was falling, and Gridiania did not care.

But Serella did. And she had water. And a cloth to douse and cover her mouth. And a bird swift enough to make it in and out.

She was moving toward the weeping mother before she had even made a conscious thought to act. Every muscle in her body pulled taught, a low roiling anger burned within her, but she had never been one to let herself be idle in her rage. Not when she could put it to good use. She could, so she must.

“Quickly, miss.” She called to her, and scrounged up every bit of softness she could manage to usher her to a nearby bench. “Your son. Tell me his name, what he was wearing, and which way he went.”

“T-Tam!” The woman replied, and when she began to sway from the stress, Serella helped her sit down. “He was wearing a yellow shirt, brown pants. He fled south from here, r-right through those trees!”

“My thanks.” Serella nodded to her. “I will try to find him.”

She had to be quick. With some of the water she had gathered, she soaked a bandana for herself and her trusty bird, and hastily tied them around face and beak alike.

“Vesh, let’s be swift, yeah?” She patted the bird’s neck.

Vesh trilled and bumped her forehead against Serella’s in answer.

She mounted her bird and took off into the burning brush before any of the Adders could even attempt to stop her. Ducked low against her galloping companion, eyes squinted against the smoke, she scanned the trees for any signs of anyone— she knew there were many that had run to try and get away. When she was deep enough in that she couldn’t make out where the city was, she pulled on Vesh’s reigns to make her stop.

“Anyone out there?” Serella called at the top of her lungs. “Tam? Anyone?”

A scream echoed to her right. She spurred Vesh to chase the sound. It took little time to find a young woman running from a voidsent, swaying and stumbling as she maneuvered around the charred forest remains..

“To me!” Serella shouted, and drew her bow.

She had seen many of these particular type of voidsent in recent days— wraiths with leathery wings, ashen scales, and fearsome claws. They looked more akin to gargoyles than living things. It shrieked, jaw distended as it bore its fangs, hungry for the woman’s aether.

The arrow she fired connected with the voidsent’s chest as the woman staggered toward her. It shrieked again, in agony this time, and dissipated before it could fall to the ground.

“I’ve got you!” She reassured the woman, hauling her up onto Vesh’s saddle in front of her.

Retracing the path they had tore through the burning brush, Serella dropped the woman off at the safest edge of the wood, in clear view of the city. Once she saw her stagger toward the awaiting Adder, Serella wetted their cloth masks and was off into the fire again.

She felt a strange calm amongst the flames, the chaos. It wasn’t the soft, warm days full of birdsong, the kind where villages could be eradicated, and the birds would still sing through the destruction. This was some strange equal opposite to her trauma. She had never felt more aware of herself and her surroundings than she did in that moment.

Maybe that was the real reason why she kept going back in. Back and forth, back and forth, she would ferry what people she could find. Still, there was no sign of a little boy in yellow and brown.

Dalamud was falling, and Serella was on the move.

On the fifth run in, just when she thought she had run out of people she hadn’t failed, she was proven wrong.

“Help!” Cried the voice of a man.

She followed his call, shouting at him to keep calling out to her, until she found a small group of people: three of them, two children, and a man, huddled together. One of the young ones— a boy in yellow and brown— stared at her in horror as she dismounted.

“It’s alright, I’m here to get you out!” She reassured them. “Tam, is that you? Your mother sent me. Let’s go home, yeah?”

“B-but…” Tam wheezed, and when he stepped aside, she saw a chocobo egg almost as big as the boy who had shielded it. “We can’t leave it behind—”

His words tapered weakly on a cough. The others were faring no better, and it was clear they wouldn’t last long breathing in this smoke. She tore bits of her own shirt off, wet them, and passed them around.

“Here, cover your mouths, come now, that’s it!”

“There are others!” The man cried, even as she helped him atop Vesh’s saddle. “I...I tried to find them—!”

The man dissolved into coughing fits.

“You tried, and that’s what matters. I promise you, I’ll look for them.” She reassured him. “Come, we have to get out of here.”

She scooped the little girl up with one arm, once she realized the poor little ones could only sway in shock and horror, and handed her to the man to situate on the saddle. Hastily, she plucked little Tam up in one arm and cradled the chocobo egg in the other, and once Tam was situated behind the little girl— Bev, she had croaked her name out— she slipped the chocobo egg in the soft, fur lined saddlebag for safekeeping.

Serella had intended to lead Vesh away on foot, back to Gridania, but they must have tarried too long. What glowing light there was from the fire became eclipsed in creeping shadows made solid, manifesting around them. Vesh tossed her head, startled, even as Serella’s grip on her reigns tightened.

Dalamud was falling, and the voidsent hungered.

These were greater numbers than ever before. More than she knew she could handle. More than she knew Vesh could outrun, burdened as she was even without Serella. She would have to stay behind to buy them time, even knowing what it would cost her.

She didn’t even need to think on it. Fortunate, then, that she had no time to.

“Get them out of here!” She ordered the man still astride her bird. “I’ll cover your escape!”

Vesh tossed her head again, letting out a wark of despair.

“Hush now, Vesh. It’s alright. Go on. Keep them safe for me.” She patted her bird’s face affectionately before she hardened herself for what she knew was coming. “Go on now, go!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. As Vesh thundered off, wailing out a mournful cry of farewell as she went, Serella turned to the rapidly solidifying darkness. The swarm of voidsent. They clustered so closely she couldn’t discern their shapes, so she instead counted the eyes. Ten sets of them. More of them than anything she had ever fought.

Dalamud was falling, and so, too, would she.

There was a strange calm to knowing death was approaching— but Serella refused to revel in it. Honing her focus, she quickly nocked an arrow and fired into the collective shadow.

Two eyes vanished. Nine voidsent left. The swarm descended.

She fired a second arrow, nearly dancing to the rhythm of her hammering heart. Though her lungs burned and her eyes stung, she persisted.

Two more eyes vanished. Eight left. They grew near enough to nearly grab her, but she leapt back to keep the distance and fired a third arrow as she landed on her feet again.

Seven left, but the flames were closing in. She was out of room to move.

Her bow would do little here, with them coming so close. She glanced down when a glint caught the corner of her eye— a fallen Adder she had not seen before, with his blade stuck in the ground beside him.

She had only ever seen the Wood Wailers train with them from afar. Though she would die flailing, at least she could buy them more time.

The blade's hilt was slick with blood, but she redoubled her grip and swung it upward as she ripped it from the earth. When the edge of the sword connected with the first voidsent, she nearly dropped her blade at the unexpected resistance she met: she had thought them less solid. Nevertheless, she had to rip the blade through and complete the arc. She caught two of them in her path. Five remaining.

One of them sunk it's scythe appendage into her arm, and she cried out at the stinging pain as it dug into her bicep.

At least it was her off hand, she mused darkly, and stabbed its black heart.

The motion left her vulnerable for another attack, however, and with another lunge, one of the remaining monstrosities slashed across her back. Shallow enough to keep her standing but deep enough to make her bleed. A cry of agony tore from her throat as she slashed wildly outward, and caught a two more in the stroke.

The last two voidsent, however, had her pinned. Diving in from either side, they swooped, graceful as black swans, and dug a bladed arm each into her chest. The impact stole the breath from her lungs, and she shuddered with the want to breathe. Even as her chest felt sticky and wet, she did not dare look down, knowing of the blood she would see.

Her mind and body hadn't quite caught up with what just happened, and with another swing of her limp arm to line up the beasts, and a strike with her blade, she'd managed fell them both with the last of her strength.

Her legs stopped working, and she sank to her knees in the blood soaked earth. As she lurched forward and managed to catch herself, just barely, by digging the blade into the earth and leaning on it, she wondered in dark humor whether or not this was how the blade's last bearer had died.

It didn't matter. Vesh got away with the civilians. That was enough. She made that enough.

Dalamud fell, and so, too, did she.

When the scent of smoke and brimstone filled her nose, Serella had, at first, presumed she'd been condemned to one of the seven hells. Opening her eyes and taking in the smoke filled skies, the brittle, burned trees, and the near foot of ash that coated everything, she wasn't entirely sure she was wrong in that assumption.

Then she looked down. She lay centered in a perfect circle of preserved grass, unburned, untarnished, and verdant beneath the ashes. Peering down at herself, she lacked wounds to speak of the horror she endured, and yet, the blood still stained her clothes deeply. The tears, the holes, every other marker of her injuries remained on everything but her.

She lifted her weary eyes, staring at the blade that had served her in the bitter end, still embedded in the grass. Her senses slowly returned to her, and she could hear the faint crooning of crows off in the distance, but little else. Her father's bow and pack slung on her shoulders were a familiar weight, and she drew comfort in that.

Her hand was enclosed around something, she realized. Confused, she looked at it and turned her palm up.

A bright, glowing blue crystal. Deep as the fathomless sea, bright as the surface of the ocean at midday, it was cool against her fingertips, and almost impossibly smooth. Every gleaming facet seemed to hold reflections of a face she almost thought she recognized, though they were all a little different from the others.

This is me. Some part of her whispered, and her mind lurched at the implication.

Hear...feel...think… a soft voice cooed from somewhere within her.

Serella decided she had done enough of all of those things for the moment. She had important things she had to do, if hell was too scared to take her now. She had to try and find Vesh, first. Gods willing, she could then take Vesh to track down her tribe again— Mina had taken them north, closer to Coerthas. She knew the path well. She had to know if they made it through this hellish nightmare, and if there was anyone that she could turn to with this weird...crystal, and this strange, intrusive voice in her head, it was Mina.

After that, come what may...she needed proper training. She had to learn how to properly protect people. The Adders weren't going to do it, and she wasn't about to hold her breath and expect anywhere else to really look out for their people, either. Someone had to be their shield.

Oh, huh. A shield would have been handy back there, she thought in a daze, brushing the ashes off of her clothes as she hauled herself up in a fit of sneezing and coughing. Something to look into. That's step four-or-so.

Dalamud had fallen, and in its ashes, Serella stood tall.

#ffxivwrite2020 #Serella Arcbane #ffxiv #injury cw #death cw #I mean she gets back up again but I don't want to pretend that's not what happens #Calamity #anywho if anyone was wondering how she decided on PLD: TL;DR is that she was a not great Ranger that rerolled her character #DM felt bad for her lack of training and experience and just let her try again

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mischiefandspirits · 3 years

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Colony of Gotham (2/7)

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

First Part ~ Next Part

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When winter came, Jack Drake used a Christmas gala as an excuse to approach Tim. He brought him into a side room to give him the news that Janet was dead, then proceeded to all but demand Tim return to the Drake mansion before the boy could fully process his words. When Tim tried to bring up the others, Jack stated Tim was nothing more than a charity case for Bruce just like Dick and Jason. Tim knew that wasn’t true for the older boys as Bruce had claimed them. For his own case, however, Jack’s words hit hard.

Bruce had yet to turn him. Tim knew the older boys had both been with him for years before their own turnings, but that was because neither had wanted it. Barbara had been changed right away, so why not Tim? He couldn’t bring himself to ask -- wasn't sure he could handle what would happen if Bruce said no -- but they had to know, right? They must have seen the way they watched them when they ate or discussed their nature. They were all detectives, after all.

He started to wonder if Jack might be right and Bruce didn’t really want him. Between that, his mother being dead, and his father actually wanting him, Tim didn’t fight it when Jack tried to lead him out.

Which was when Jason appeared in all his fury. He didn’t know why Jack was there, but he did know he had no right to be anywhere near Tim after what he’d done. Tim tried to talk him down, but that only made Jason angrier. He pulled Tim away from the man and told him Jack didn’t know what he was talking about. Bruce loved Tim just as he loved Jason and Dick. When Tim tried to argue, Jason realized how Tim had linked being turned with being family.

Temper rising and impulsivity at its peak, Jason heard Jack tell Tim they were leaving without even asking if that’s what he wanted, looked the man dead in the eyes, and bit his little brother. He made sure Jack couldn’t see his fangs or Tim’s wound as he gathered his brother into a hug and told Jack, in no uncertain terms, that Tim was theirs and if he had a problem with it he could take it up with Bruce’s lawyers. Then he led Tim away while passing him a dehydrated blood bar so he could complete his transformation.

Jason realized that maybe his timing needed work as the fever haze of turning began to wash over Tim, but the memory of the sunshine smile he’d received when his little brother had realized what he was doing and the tight hug Tim was giving him even in his declining consciousness made it worth it.

At least until they reached the car and Alfred leveled Jason with a look.

The moment Tim was tucked away in bed, Bruce and Dick laid into Jason about discretion and consent. Jason had been sure Tim wanted it, but doubt started to creep in as the younger boy slept through his transformation.

When Tim woke to an apology, he thought it meant Jason didn’t want him after all. The two quickly reassured one another then, with Barbara’s help, managed to make the others see reason as well.

When Tim’s animal form turned out to be a scrub jay, Jason never let his Tiny Jay live it down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kate Kane traveled the world for years to bring herself out of the downward spiral of alcohol and women she’d fallen into after leaving military academy, then returned to Gotham to make a name for herself as the Batwoman.

They called her a succubus with porcelain skin, lips painted with blood, and red fire for hair that had horn-like ears poking out. Unlike the rest of the Colony, she had eyes that could be seen, bright red with black sclera and slit pupils. There were hints of a curvy figure under the armor she donned. It was black with a bat painted onto the chest in blood.

They said she was beautiful.

They also said she was, without a doubt, the most vicious of the Colony. She didn’t carry guns, but she’d be happy to steal yours to use. It only took a few gunshots to men’s knees before word got around she favored women and protected them, though some never got the hint and still tried to flirt with her.

Bruce was not pleased when he found out who she was, but he knew the woman well enough to know she wouldn’t stop so he brought her into the fold as much as she would allow.

Jason and Tim hadn’t met her before, having joined the family after she’d left. The younger boy got along well enough with her, but the older boy was immediately taken with his new crazy vodka aunt (they were technically second cousins once removed, but everyone agreed aunt was simpler) and Bruce regretted introducing them when he realized the two were sneaking off to gun ranges together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A new team of heroes eventually arrived on the scene, one that would go on to cause problems for one Tim Wayne.

It began one month after the team’s formation when a certain clone -- in a fit of rebellion against one of the men whose DNA had formed him -- decided to take a trip to the one city the Justice League avoided like the plague and ordered their mentees to do the same.

Despite almost immediately regretting it, he held out for three hours before deciding to head back. The problem came when he realized he had no idea how to do that. He was completely lost and had left his phone at home to be sure Clark wouldn’t figure out where he’d gone.

Not for the first time, he wished he could fly.

He wandered around lost for another half an hour, not willing to trust any of the Gothamites that all seemed to eye him with an even greater distrust, before a boy stumbled out of a coffee shop and directly into him. Kon was impressed the smaller boy hadn’t managed to spill a drop of coffee nor lose his footing in the collision considering the massive bags under his eyes and the way he almost seemed to be vibrating from what Kon realized was a half-empty black coffee with six shots of espresso.

Tim managed to show him the way to the train station in between complaining that he was a creature of the night that didn’t need sleep, wishing destruction on his elder brother for dragging him into the city for a book signing before disappearing on him because of an emergency, the brightness of the day (despite the sky being more overcast than Kon had ever seen it in his month of life), and describing the video game he’d stayed up the night before playing.

Kon was honestly extremely worried about the guy, and he might have forced him to swap numbers before he left on the train so he could make sure Tim got home safe, even if the guy claimed he just needed to call his other brother to pick him up. Tim did get home safe, but he also got a second coffee beforehand so Kon felt justified.

In Tim’s defense, he required three times the amount of caffeine to feel the effects. Not in his defense, he had drunk more than three times the amount that day.

Tim did not appreciate the grumpy, yet overprotective puppy he’d somehow gained. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to block Kon’s number. Even when he put together that Conner “Kon” Kent was Superboy, a founding member of Young Justice.

Tim also didn’t appreciate his brothers teasing him over his new super friend.

The teasing only got worse some months later when Tim and Barbara went to a convention together where he got into a long conversation with one Keli Quintela about the integration of human and alien technology and the pros and cons of utilizing alien coding language in firewalls. They ended up spending most of the convention together and went home with each other’s numbers and emails. So of course she turned out to be Young Justice’s Teen Lantern.

He would never let his brothers know that Keli set mandatory downtime hours on all the projects they worked on together because, apparently, he had “an unhealthy work ethic” and needed to “take more personal time.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep it from Barbara. She soon started setting similar blocks on his other projects.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stephanie’s story is a familiar one. She took on the persona of Spoiler to help the Colony take down her father Cluemaster whenever he decided to cause trouble. She wore body armor she’d stolen from her father and dyed purple alongside a cloak and a mask that covered the bottom of her face. She interacted with the Robins the most during their on-again-off-again team up so it was no surprise she eventually realized there was more than one. This meant that when Jason decided he was getting too old for Robin, they went with the obvious successor.

Stephanie will never admit how long it took her to realize the lot of them weren’t demonic monstrosities. Or how long it took her to catch onto the vampire thing.

According to rumors, the Red Hood had been the leader of the Red Hood Gang when it was at its prime. He’d been brought back from the dead by Batwoman to serve as her right hand and he held a grudge against the Joker for leading the gang to ruin. He was a brute in armor to match hers under a black and blood-red hooded vest. A red mask covered his mouth and nose while a black domino with glowing red lenses hid his eyes. His hair was a fiery red that matched his mistress’s. They said he was just as vicious as her and while he was thrilled to beat you down with nothing more than his fists, and more than capable of doing so as well, he often used the guns hidden under his vest. Some said he never kills, others said he simply handed those he does over to his mistress. He never spoke but in growls, but his mistress always knew what he was saying.

That might have been because Jason only spoke over comms while his mask filtered his voice into animalistic growls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During this time, Cassandra Cain celebrated her eighth birthday by killing Miranda Row on her father’s orders. Cass, trained to understand body language better than most understand words, was horrified as she took in how the dying woman was feeling and fled both the scene and her father. He went down for the crime, but Miranda’s daughter Harper knew the man hadn’t acted alone and was out for blood.

On a happier note, this was also around when Stephanie was turned.

If anyone ever asked Stephanie how it happened, she would be sure to give them a story full of lies that was guaranteed to be far more dramatic than what actually happened while Tim would be off in the corner, blushing face hidden in his hands.

Because honestly, it was an accident.

She and Tim had been cuddling in the cave on their night off. Tim had gotten a little enthusiastic with his fangs, not that she minded at the time. Then she grabbed a drink from the mini-fridge. Unfortunately, neither of them realized just what she was drinking until it was too late.

A human is bitten by a vampire. A human drinks another human’s blood. The human is no longer a human.

The situation made the Colony more cautious around their significant others, to the amusement of one asexual-aromantic Jason Todd-Wayne. It wasn’t a problem for Bruce as Selina had turned before he’d ever met her, but Barbara and Kate both started keeping their blood locked in mini-fridges in their closets. Dick, unfortunately, wasn’t as lucky.

The manor was safe, but he wouldn’t be able to keep anything locked away at Artemis’s apartment without explanation. He could easily just keep all his normal blood at the manor, but he usually had a blood bar or two on him in case of emergency and Wally was known to steal food thanks to his speedster-increased metabolism. The bars weren’t toxic to humans in case someone happened to get their hands on one and Wally had only made the mistake of stealing one once before when Dick had first turned (he’d eaten it too fast to react to the taste, but had immediately gagged after and sworn off ever trying one again), but Dick was still nervous one or both of his partners might get their hands on one by accident.

As a result, he stopped nibbling on Wally and Artemis during intimate moments just in case, something that did not go unnoticed. Dick was a biter, so when he suddenly stopped out of nowhere the two began to worry. They tried to talk to him about it, but he talked around them or played dumb. Artemis then texted Jason, Artemis Grace, and Barbara.

Jason simply sent her a vomiting emoji before saying if she still wanted to come with him and Kate to the gun range, she wasn’t allowed to talk about doing that kind of stuff with his brother around him ever again.

Grace advised them that if Dick wasn’t satisfying them then they should rid themselves of him. When Artemis tried to say that wasn’t the problem, all she received in response was a shrugging emoji.

Barbara said she didn’t know but she’d try to talk to him, then immediately texted Dick to tell him to either get over his fear or tell his partners what was up.

Dick worried over it for a week before blurting out that he was a vampire while the three were cuddling in bed.

The two laughed, assuming it was another of his jokes, until they realized he wasn’t laughing but hiding behind his hands. The three had had a long conversation after that about the nature of vampires, how Dick fed, and the powers and limitations that came with vampirism, the latter of which included Wally receiving a painful kick to the shin over a glitter joke.

The two had taken it well, having seen weirder things in their lives, and Artemis got a lockbox for Dick to keep his bars in to prevent any accidents that could come from Wally’s hunger-induced amnesia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Elizabeth “Bette” Kane was first cousins once removed with Kate Kane, which is how she ended up getting sent to her aunt’s for the summer. She had been excited at first since she knew how much Kate liked to party, but she was more than disappointed when she found out she’d been signed up for a science summer camp at Wayne Enterprises. She fought with her aunt over it and when that didn’t work, she went looking for dirt. That was how she’d accidentally stumbled upon the Batcave.

Kate and Bruce unfortunately didn’t have enough time to figure out what to do about it before something else took precedence.

Barbara was shot by the Joker.

That night affected three young women’s lives.

Barbara’s vampiric durability meant the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but her mobility was still too limited for her to ever go out in the field again. After some time to come to terms with her new state, she settled into the role of Pythia.

It was a serpent made of code, slithering through servers and whispering into the ears of the Colony. It was never seen, only heard. It saw all. It knew all. Beware if it turned its attention to you.

Stephanie stepped up as Batgirl. They needed the cover and she honestly butt heads with Bruce too much to be a good Robin anyway. Plus, purple was much more her color.

Batgirl had grown stronger. When you could see her, she was nothing more than a shadow cloaked in violet. However, it was rare you’d see anything. Thanks to the theft of an invisibility device Penguin had built for her father, sometimes you couldn’t even see her when she was right in front of you.

Bette was in the cave while the others were hunting down Joker, Kate too worried to leave her at home until they were sure he didn’t know their identities. As she watched the Colony work, it suddenly hit her what her aunt was doing as Batwoman. After that day, she put more effort into the camp and even developed an interest in medicine. At the same time, she began to learn how to fight from her aunt. When the summer came to an end, she pulled some strings to get enrolled in Gotham Academy so she could stay with Kate. Then she took her place as Tim’s partner by offering her fashion and makeup skills.

“The shadows have started to overwhelm the Bloody Robin,” people whispered.

The ones that had always wrapped around him rose up in the form of a hood while darkness had ensnared his limbs, leaving only hints of green on his clawed feet and hands. The formation of the hood, though, revealed his neck.

And the long bloody gash that encircled it.

They say the change was done by Batman, that he tore Robin’s head off to bring out his darkness.

During this time, Barbara was dealing with the trauma of what had happened to her. One of the ways she did this was by joining an online support group for trauma survivors. It was through the chatroom that she met Hank Hall and his girlfriend Dawn Granger. The three quickly became friends. Hank was grumpy but well-meaning in a way Barbara was all too familiar with. Dove was more openly kind and caring, though Barbara could see a viciousness lurking beneath.

The three talked for weeks before deciding to meet up for lunch when Barbara was on a trip to D.C. It was only then that she looked them up, not wanting to risk meeting them in person if they were up to something.

She took the teasing over having super friends with far more dignity than the boys. Admittedly their status as super friends was more debatable since the couple were semi-retired and only really went out in emergency cases or as favors to their old Titans friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bart Allen heard his Grandma Iris and Uncle Wally talking about the latter going on another trip to Gotham, he was ecstatic. The myths about Gotham were always the best horror stories to listen to growing up in the future and now that he was Kid Flash he was sure Wally would let him go with him. He’d been waiting for his opportunity since he’d taken the name and joined Young Justice, but there had always been things in the way. Wally had a mission. Dick was busy so Tigress had come to Central instead. Bart had a mission. Bart had another mission. The police commissioner's daughter got shot so no one was going to Gotham. So on and so forth.

It had been over a year, but finally, Wally was going to Gotham and Bart had nothing planned.

“No, you can’t come,” Wally said immediately.

“Why not?” Bart whined.

“Gotham’s too dangerous,” Iris said, from where she was folding towels. She gave Wally a pointed look. “Neither of you need to be going there.”

Wally shrugged.

“But -”

“No,” the two adults cut over Bart.

He went anyway.

Unfortunately, while he could run just as fast as his uncle-slash-first cousin once removed, he wasn’t quite as coordinated as the older speedster so he lost track of him halfway through the city. Not managing to find him again, he ended up deciding to just grab something to eat and head back. Deciding to ask for a local’s opinion, he ran around until he spotted someone moderately trustworthy looking (it took longer than it would normally, but he’d expected that in Gotham). When the shorter teen offhandedly mentioned he was sneaking away from his brothers and their friends, Bart invited him to come eat with him. When the guy couldn’t seem to remember when the last time he ate was, the invitation turned into a kidnapping.

The guy, Tim, was pretty cool even if he clearly couldn’t take care of himself. He actually kind of reminded Bart of the friends Kon and Keli had mentioned having in Gotham, so maybe a lack of self-care was a Gotham thing. Either way, Bart had them swap numbers and proceeded to bother his new friend around mealtimes to make sure he ate.

Tim hadn’t even needed to look up Bart since Dick showed up in his room with a big grin talking about how Wally’s nephew had gotten a new Gotham friend named Tim.

The younger brother wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve this. He hadn’t asked for it. Why did these people keep showing up out of nowhere!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TFW you find out scrub jays are the only non-primate and non-dolphin shown to plan ahead for the future and just can't help yourself.

Steph wears her suit from Young Justice as Spoiler and her Rebirth Spoiler suit as Batgirl.

Jason's Red Hood suit is a mixup. It's the typical Red Hood suit, but the helmet and jacket are swapped out for the mask and vest from Red Hood: Outlaw.

The updated Robin suit is similar to Damian's from the animated movies, just with the usual black robin mask. And bloody.

Vampires' animal forms:

Tim: Woodhouse's scrub jay

Kate & Bette: Gray bat

Stephanie: Golden jackal

#batman #batfam #colony of gotham #fanfiction

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

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Old Friend, New Family (2)

Requested by: Anon | Prompt:

Hey I was wondering if you’d take a prompt where the reader is an ex-padawan who’s master died pretty early on in order 66, and was instead saved by a clone that removed his inhibitor chip. Then maybe they get separated, and years later when the reader is a crew member on the Mantis, they come across the clone again? How would the crew, especially Cal and Cere, react to meeting a friendly ex-soldier clone who’s close with the reader? Could you make it full of angst then fluff? Love your writing!

Tags: Defected! Clone Trooper, Jedi Survivor! Reader, Order 66 Survivor

Also posted in AO3

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3 | Masterlist

2 of ?

The Kel Dor master used the Force to open the door and at least five Clone Troopers clustered together at the door, blocking your only exit out of the room, and it’s only the two of you against them. Taking cover from their fire behind the office desk, banking their shots was the only possibly strategy if you want to get out of the office and to the Starfighters.

Mere minutes ago, you were guarding against blaster fire from droids… and now you’re trading them with your own clones—the men who you thought were your most trusted allies.

This can’t be happening! What went wrong?!

The distress in your mind was loud enough for Master Karos to take notice.

With your backs pressed against the desk for cover, Master Karos could only afford a few seconds to tell you a compressed version of his plan within less than twenty words.

“Padawan, listen to me very carefully. The clones have betrayed us. The Starfighters—we have to get to the Starfighters. It’s our only way of escape!”

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are they trying to kill us all of a sudden!?”

“The Council must have an answer for this. In the meantime, we have to get out of this palace and get to the landing pad. We have to get rid of those at the door. Ready?”

You nodded and followed your master’s lead. It appears some of them hugged the wall and blindly fired from where they hid. The last Clone Trooper standing in your way of the exit fell lifeless to the ground.

“The exit’s open! Go, [y/n]!” the Kel Dor bellowed.

You leaped over the pile of bodies that blocked the door from ever closing. The corridor is seemingly empty, but you’re half-anticipating that there would be more. Master Karos clutched your shoulder and bent down so his eyes are level to yours.

“Stay close to me. Keep running and don’t look back. Understand?”

You were stuck between catching your breath while fighting back sobs as you’re scared and confused all at the same time. The only reply he got from you is a nod, but it was an answer nonetheless. He stole a moment to look at you—suddenly, he remembered that small, bright-eyed child in the Temple and he stroked the back of your head before standing up.

Perhaps, this is the first time you saw him genuinely smile past his protective mask—and apparently the last.

“Now, [y/n]… Run!”

Keeping up with your master’s running pace, the clone troopers came from all sides of the halls. There was no need for close combat, though you had to deflect their blasts in quick succession—some ricocheted against the walls, others met its mark on the clone troopers’ bodies.

“Almost there, [y/n]—keep running!”

The more you both ran, the little you did in protecting yourselves from the clones in using your weapons, it was more evading their fire when it was only two of three of them—you only whipped out your saber when there was more of them waiting for you to show up in the next turn.

In bigger groups, Zal Karos would simply incapacitate the clones with his Force push and shut the door by destroying the panel. Later on, you ended up running ahead of him while he covers you from the flank. You went ahead in the next turn, but you were too eager to escape that you didn’t look the other way.

“I found the child!” the clone shouted and pulled the trigger on you.

Your last-minute deflect was flimsy, resulting to the projectile grazing the corner of your shoulder. The next shot was better and you returned fire to the clone trooper who injured you before continuing on.

“Master, I see the landing pad!”

“Good, [y/n], come on!”

By the time you got to the entrance of the landing pad, the clone troopers at your tail have increased in numbers. Master Karos could only hold them off enough for you to reach your objective. You’ve returned to the scene of the carnage from the siege that transpired mere minutes ago, but you and your master have been outnumbered by the clone troopers closing in on you from behind.

“Nowhere to run.” One of the clones snarled with a sinister persistence.

Indeed, it seems that there is nowhere to run. The Jedi Master saw only one last possibility for survival—and he wasn’t in it. However, he knew that perfectly well, and he made peace with that just now.

“[y/n], my Padawan, whatever happens… Survive!”

“What…?!”

The clones raised their rifles in full unison and their fingers curled against the triggers; a second’s notice was all he can afford but it was all Master Karos needs—he lifted you high up with the Force, he tossed you away to a distance far from the circle of clone troopers that surrounded you. From where you lie, you could barely see him over the clones’ shoulders that stood in the way, with your limited view you can see that he continued to fight even when it was a dozen to one.

The beams of the projectiles illuminated the circle of troopers and then you watched his body falter and jerk for every shot he took. You saw Zal Karos’s body fall flat to the floor but the clones continued to fire at him.

He fell down with his face turned to you, even with such a long distance, you can tell that your eyes meet.

“NOOO!!!” you screeched.

There was nothing you can do about him now.

SURVIVE, [Y/N]!

You heard his voice in your head, and that was enough to snap you back to your senses. Seeing that you were back outside in the city proper, you sought for a place to hide, stealing some detonators from fallen clones’ utility belts along the way for extra protection.

In the distance, the troopers exchange questions and orders.

“Where’s the little one!?”

“I don’t know, she can’t be far ahead!”

“Sweep the area! She can’t do much against us!”

You slipped into the wreckage of a LAAT gunship and hid in the cockpit for an indefinite time, despite its destruction, your size was enough for you to keep yourself out of sight. You curled into a ball, hugged your knees as you wept for this disaster and for your chaos. An ocean of questions flooded your little mind as the trauma slowly devoured your willpower.

Is it over?

Am I going to die here?

Please, anybody… help.

In a time that felt like days have passed, the thunders of war seemed to have ceased. You crawled out of your hiding spot and attempted to return to the scene where you saw Master Karos for the final time.

Master, did you die because of me? Because you had to save me? Did you really think I was helpless or useless or both?

Your feet dragged through the body-strewn streets of the city, careful not to step on any of the fallen clones’ bodies, you looked around and saw their lifeless eyes peeking through the broken portions of their helmets—you felt a chill crawl down your already-weak spine—but continued on.

Eventually, you found Master Karos’s body left to rot in front of the city gates. The dust has settled on his robes as he remained in the last position you saw him. You knelt down and gently rolled him over with the remaining strength you have in your body right now. His skin has paled, his head bobbed to your direction, and knowing that there is nothing you can do anymore, you clutched his cold, dead hands and hunched over his body to weep.

“It’s over…” you sobbed. “We lost… I’m sorry, Master.”

The wind has picked up, the inferno crackled from the distance, and you remained there with your master on the ground; you stayed there until you could regain enough strength to bury him. It’s the only honor you can bestow to him. Even though you’re stricken with grief, you can sense someone approaching you; you feigned, pretending that you don’t anticipate the stranger coming to you, the click of the safety prompted your ear to twitch.

What good can fighting do, anyway? I’m as good as dead.

You slowly raised your arms while still hunched over your master’s body.

“Oh, hey… Kid, are you okay?”

You’re startled by the compassion of the voice behind you—it was obviously a clone’s voice. Slowly lowering your hands and then glancing over your shoulder, you were correct when it was a clone but he didn’t behave hostile and trigger-happy like the others. The first thing you noticed is the motif of a horned creature with fangs painted above his helmet’s visor—from that, you knew which clone this was.

“Strig?”

He took off his helmet and revealed his face, confirming his identity—his head was shaven but growth had begun to show, a faint stubble traced his jaw and ended with a goatee, and the same motif was tattooed on one side of his head.

He was cautious with how he approached you, knowing that you’re obviously terrified with what transpired mere hours ago. He noticed the way you scoot closer to your master.

“Are you hurt?” he asked you again.

He slowly reached for your jaw, but you avoided him, apparently there was a cut that you must’ve gotten when Master Karos tossed you out of the line of fire; and then his hand hovered to your shoulder, pointing to where the blaster graze is.

Your fingers absentmindedly tapping the wound with the dried blood. “Are you going to kill me now?”

The clone’s eyebrows furrowed together, “No, why would I do that?”

“Because everyone else tried to.”

The clone sighed, seeming to be in the same page of confusion as you are—the only difference is that he has a better inkling about the manslaughter that happened hours ago. The seemingly-defected clone offered you his hand and helped you back up on your feet.

“Strig… what’s happened? Why did the clones tried to kill us?”

“That’s… look, it’s a bit complicated, [y/n],”

“Believe me, I’ve seen more complicated things to understand,”

Strig sighed when he knew you’re going to persist for answers. He sidetracked you on offering to help you bury Master Karos’s body.

“That was what you’re planning to do, right?”

“Yeah, I just… I was just too weak to move.”

“Okay, kid, let me give you a hand.”

The clone helped in digging the hole, in the meantime, you tore off the pauldron bearing the insignia of the Jedi Order, and then used the Force to gently put Master Karos along with his lightsaber in his final resting place. The pauldron acted as a marker.

“I’m sorry if it’s not much, Master. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough to save you. Still, I hope you find peace—for you are now one with the Force.” You prayed on your knees.

After your prayer, Strig helped you again on your feet, “Come on, kid. There’s nothing left for us here. But you don’t have to be alone anymore, you know. I got your back—as long as you promise you have mine!”

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