#I’m going crazy I’m going loony I’m going wacky

[mydarlingdahlia]

The goblins that control my brain are barely contained in their prison h e l p

#charlotte rambles #so silly #i’m going crazy #wacky #loony even #a bit comical #just a wee bit #*eye twitches*

[aestheticaxolotl]

Lets Talk About Mimebomb

I used two images here because both are priceless and I didn’t know which I wanted to use more.  Let me start with Mimebomb, using the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break them (mimebomb is non binary fight me) down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show, please bear with me once more as I do this).

Mime Bomb is a thin, red-haired young man (*Cough*) who looks like a stereotypical mime. He (*They*) wears a grey and black striped shirt, black beret, white gloves, black spandex and black shoes. His (*Their*) makeup consists of white face paint, black face paint around the eyes and on the brows, and a light red shade of lipstick. 

So I wanna talk about Mimebomb without their makeup first. We see that they are not meant to be an attractive character, and I appreciate that Carmen Sandiego created characters like that. But I digress, red headed males are stereotypically either super hot or super not. And they really tried to go with super not. But failed because I love them anyway and so does most of the fandom. Now, the mime get up is a very strange choice to me, seeing as people are more scared of clowns than global warming, and mimes are very similar to clown, but I don’t think it’s a fear tactic. But more of a ‘hey even Mimes can be cool yall’. 

For personality we do not have a lot to go on as some of the other but we still have SOMETHING, I was forced to reference the books for this so please, if you have no read “Clue by Clue”, check it out.

Mime Bomb has been described as quiet by El Topo and weird by Tigress. Mime Bomb is seen as an opportunist, immediately tattling to V.I.L.E Faculty when witnessing Carmen stowing away on the graduate mission during her holdover year, and secretly hiding a rare stamp in Detective Chase Devineaux's coat when he was on to him. In the Clue by Clue novel, Mime Bomb is said to be skilled in symbiology and cryptanalysis according to Professor Maelstrom. He is also prone to avoiding fights or physical contact when possible. When fighting Sheena in the Who in the World is Carmen Sandiego novel, she easily beats him while he is distracted. When offered a helping hand to his feet by Black Sheep, he declines with a shrug and silent nod. In Clue by Clue, when Le Chèvre and Tigress are fighting Carmen, he stands off in the sidelines and shadowboxes rather than assisting.

Now, let us begin on what I have brought to the table.

Mime Bomb is seen as an opportunist

I have to begin by defining the term ‘Opportunistic’ using the Webster's Dictionary, Opportunistic meaning “exploiting chances offered by immediate circumstances without reference to a general plan or moral principle”. And dumbing it down for myself “They take what is best for theirself rather than the people around them.” Right, so. Mimebomb being opportunistic is CANON and shown MANY times. I will draw your attention to every time Mimebomb has turned Carmen or who ever into the Faculty for not following the rules. I would have loved to stated that this is a ‘teacher pet’ thing but I was surprised when I realized it wasn’t. The Faculty really doesn’t like Mimebomb and are very sarcastic towards them, constantly underestimating them and using them as the butt of the joke! And yet we see them completing missions successfully and with finesse, other messing up the mission they set up so carefully and thoughtfully.

Mime Bomb is said to be skilled in symbology and cryptanalysis

Cryptanalysis is the art or process of deciphering coded messages without being told the key. While Symbology is  the study or use of symbols. This is very telling. Mimebomb studying codes and symbols can allude to selective mutism or even mutism. Personally, I prefer the former, Selective mutism is a childhood disorder in which a child does not speak in some social situations although he or she is able to talk normally at other times. And this can form in adults too. But the implications that they let if form how they preformed in school/college? Amazing, they made a choice and stuck to it for SUCH a LONG time. That commitment is amazing. This is also useful to more historical based mission or where it may lead into hieroglyph or other symbols. I’m willing to wager that these talents are why DOCTOR BELLUM brought Mimebomb on the hunt for an artifact. Because they would know some of the writing and symbols.

He is also prone to avoiding fights or physical contact when possible

Mimebomb being physically weak is not an accidental detail. Far from it! I think addressing that a male character who is more brains than brawn is a detail that needs to be pushed, and as off as Mimebomb is, they are the perfect example of this. They are not masculine and are easily taken down by Young Blacksheep, Chase, and other characters. Mind you it’s halariauous but PLEASE- You are KILLING their JOINTS. I have a feeling the avoiding physical contact is a very... Self protecting action that I feel would have to be more touched on in a headcanon post rather than an analysis post. The best I can come up with is the speculation that Mimebomb refuses to let people become close to them.

When offered a helping hand to his feet by Black Sheep, he declines with a shrug and silent nod

This, this the most telling thing EVER.  Mimebomb refuses a helping hand. They do not work well with others and when they are offered help, the refuse it. They have a self serving bias. A self-serving bias is any cognitive or perceptual process that is distorted by the need to maintain and enhance self-esteem, or the tendency to perceive oneself in an overly favorable manner. It is the belief that individuals tend to ascribe success to their own abilities and efforts, but ascribe failure to external factors. When individuals reject the validity of negative feedback, focus on their strengths and achievements but overlook their faults and failures, or take more credit for their group's work than they give to other members, they are protecting their ego from threat and injury. Mimebomb protects themself at all cost, and that makes me wonder, why? Because they know that they can’t accept others help or their comforts. And they are fine with it. They are okay with being alone.

he stands off in the sidelines and shadowboxes rather than assisting.

I feel like this was originally supposed to be a one off joke rather than an actual trait or habit. But... If you know me by now, I can twist this on it’s head so fast, it’s not even funny. But I can’t here, I can’t except maybe they do this to encourage others? I think when they do work in a team, they do try their best to support who they are working with unless its an annoying slime ball like Neal the Eel (Not hating on Slimebomb, I just noticed they work better as comical enemies rather than a relationship, and i love that)

Now, there was no abilities category in the wiki, and I found this interesting, so i drew from the Trivia section of the page and found out... A lot really, that is interesting. But only one of them made and impression on me and it’s the one I want to focus on for a paragraph or two.

Mime Bomb is actually classified by A.C.M.E. as insane; given he is locked up with Maelstrom in a loony bin. considering he NEVER speaks (by choice), makes sense.

I’m going to take a second to define the term “Insane” using “Wikipedia” rather than a dictionary. “ Insanity, madness, and craziness are terms that describe a spectrum of individual and group behaviors that are characterized by certain abnormal mental or behavioral patterns.” Hmm....What abnormal pattern are we looking at here. Selective Mutism. The mime outfit doesn’t help. I’ll make note that the official wiki says it’s choice that Mimebomb doesn’t speak, but doesn’t give us a reason why, speculation and theories are in store here and I will reference my V.I.L.E Operative headcanons.

In the end, Mimebomb was and still is one of my favorite characters in the whole freaking show. I enjoyed ever second of them on screen, every caper and ever wacky highjinx.  I’d watch the whole show again just to see them being the awesome character they are. As usual, requests are open and please! I love when requests come in! Stay tuned for the next one y’all!!

[quinintheclouds]

Common misconceptions of Ravenclaws:

The straightman in every scenario

Says "you're embarrassing me" to friends

Always quiet and introverted with no exception

Tired of other Houses' wackiness and rule-breaking

Book nerds who only care about hard facts and dislike artistic pursuits

"Hermione Granger/Percy Weasley should've been in Ravenclaw"

Robots/emotionless

Rule-followers and enforcers

Knows the answers

Good grades

Teacher's pet

Canon Ravenclaws:

Canonically broke into the astronomy tower at midnight to watch a meteor shower, had negative House Points that year (worth it)

ARE the "embarrassing" friends bc they don't care if they're being odd

Wins the House Cup least of all Houses because they don't care about rules that don't make logical/moral sense

Asks the questions

Creativity is one of the main tenets of Ravenclaw House, ALONG WITH wit and learning

Are told by teachers to "keep it down" as much as Gryffindors bc they stay up all night discussing/debating philosophy, practicing instruments, and experimenting with spells/potions that often go horribly wrong

So. Many. Puns. (It's wordplay! It's the toys of language!)

Often late/poor attendance because they got caught up in non-homework-related projects; forgot the homework entirely

Gets in trouble for altering potions recipes or changing spell instructions "just to see what happens"

Try crazy things and do random stuff "for science"

"How do YOU know it's not real? We thought the earth was flat until we investigated! So how do you KNOW wrackspurts don't exist?"

Luna Lovegood

Can be outgoing or reserved, loud or quiet. Will talk extremely fast and enthusiastically when excited

George should have been in Ravenclaw (Fred in either Ravenclaw or Slytherin) -- inventors and visionaries, creative, poor grades despite knowing the subject matter and displaying high level spells, experimented with their inventions instead of going to class, etc.

Make up majority of Hogwarts choir and music groups, "the most artistic House"

Often reprimanded for not wearing uniform because "I'm just expressing myself, professor!"

Daydreamers with big imaginations. One of the reasons Rowena Ravenclaw wanted to have the common room in the tallest tower -- big windows to stare out of and daydream

Learning is more important than knowing; theories are more important than facts

Absolute disasters -- messy and disorganized but happy that way

Curiosity killed the Ravenclaw

Emotionally aware

According to the wiki, the most accepting House. (Hufflepuff is most tolerant, i.e. will treat you the same despite your differences, "don't worry, you're just the same as anyone else!"; Ravenclaw is most accepting, i.e. will listen to you and learn about you so they can accept and understand you for who and what you are, "your differences matter and you deserve to embrace them")

Infamous for being strange. Aka "The weirdo House." Members are often called crazy or loony.

Value eccentricity, uniqueness, and individuality over conformity and normalcy for the sake of the status quo

"Ok I KNOW there's a test tomorrow but it's really boring let's sneak out and see if we can talk about the essence of existence with some ghosts"

#ravenclaw stereotypes #ravenclaw misconceptions #fanon vs canon #ravenclaw house facts #ravenclaw mood #I would like our house to be more understood please!!! #the movies did us wrong #hogwarts houses #harry potter #quinpost

[crusherthedoctor]

Warning: Another IDW Sonic rant, sorry D:

So we all know my biggest gripes with IDW Sonic at this point. Eggman getting fucked over after a promising start, Starline being reduced to Snively 2.0... also after a promising start, half the cast making one dumb decision after another, emotional moments falling flat due to how overplayed they are, yadda yadda yadda. But since IDW clearly hasn't grinded my gears for more than enough reasons already, there's yet another revelation that came to mind just recently, one that isn't brought up as much due to the popularity - or lack thereof - of the characters in question.

Basically, the current arc has done a disservice to the Deadly Six just as much as it's done a disservice to virtually everyone else.

I know, you're gonna say they never had any credibility to begin with... and maybe that's true. But hear me out for a second.

I was probably one of the people in the Sonic community, on Tumblr and in general, who defended the Deadly Six the most. By all means, I acknowledged why they weren't popular, and I agreed with a lot of the common criticisms, but I also stood by my opinion that they were NOT the worst thing ever, especially not when compared to other characters in the franchise, villain or otherwise. I also expressed the opinion that although Zavok's inclusion in certain installments were indeed shoehorned, narrative-wise, he wasn't any more shoehorned than certain other characters in the same games (mainly Silver, due to how willy-nilly his time travel schtick has become in order to justify his continuing presence). My Sweet or Shite review pertaining to the Zeti likewise concluded on a mixed note overall, rather than an outright negative one.

And why did I defend them? Because as one-note as their personalities may admittedly be, I felt that their traits still gave them the potential for greatness. Not all of them perhaps (Zeena is probably the weakest link to be honest), but with the likes of Zazz's craziness, or Zor's nihilism, you had something fun to work with, compared to the absolute nothing going on with Black Doom, Mephiles, and countless others made from the same cloth. I stood by that belief for years, against all the vitriol they received, even as it kept increasing with each time they were shoehorned and/or had their potential squandered in subsequent appearances.

But then IDW goes and does the impossible. Not only are the Zeti awkwardly inserted halfway through a story that's already got a full plate, and not only do they upstage Eggman and Starline and mooch their resources yet again... but what potential for memorable personality and interactions they had isn't even there anymore.

Oh sure, Zazz still acts crazy, and Zor still acts nihilistic, but very little of it is played in an interesting or entertaining way. It's all played completely straight now, nothing more than another means to show how evil, how serious, how oh-so-better than Eggman they are as villains... which means the one thing separating them from all the other subpar villains in the series is now gone. Instead of expanding on Zazz's status as a wacky type of loony, his comedic goofiness has been reduced if not completely expelled for the sake of playing his craziness straight, making him more forgettable in the process. Instead of giving Zor more hilarious depression-fueled zingers, his nihilism is treated as if it were unironically badass rather than just sad and pathetic, and now he's just another boring sadist in a franchise full of them. (Which is made even more redundant by the fact that IDW already had its own Not-Mephiles in the form of Mimic.)

It almost feels like Ian Flynn looked at all the criticism they received over the years, and learned the wrong lessons in an attempt to improve their reputation. Their inclusion was presumably intended to redeem them, and confirmed by the man himself to “raise the stakes”, but instead, what potential for interesting character and dynamics they had is now gone entirely, the fanbase hates them more than ever, even I'm throwing my hands up in the air now, AND Eggman gets cheated out of what was meant to be his big comeback. No one wins, flawless fatality.

At least the Hard-Boiled Heavies are still great.

#Opinion #Deadly Six #IDW Sonic

[paladin-andric]

The Stranger

It’s about damn time, isn’t it?

Well, enjoy a fantasy western short story I haven’t gotten around to finishing for quite some time. Fair warning that this isn’t a genre I’m experienced in, so take that for what you will. Enjoy, however, wacky hijinks, bad wild west slang, magical cowboys fighting dragons, and an EXTREMELY strong reference to Blackheart! A mysterious stranger arrives to a town on brink of destruction, and promises to turn things around...

“Son of a bitch!”

A loud thud rang out as Red slammed a fist down onto his desk, fury written on his face.

He was an older man with gray hair, wrinkles on his face, and a bushy mustache. He slumped over, holding his temples with one hand while the other flexed in a fist, still held against the wooden surface of the desk.

Red wore a gray sleeveless vest, a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and black pants. Topping off his ensemble was of course, his all-important badge. A silver, six pointed star with the word “SHERIFF” engraved with bold letters.

Another man was standing next to him. The accomplice had a slightly less tan complexion, and a goatee and mustache. He had a green jacket that was open down the middle, showing a tan shirt underneath. He also wore a white hat, and had a badge pinned to his jacket. It being a plain, five pointed star denoted that he was a standard officer.

“Sir, I know this is crazy but-”

“Crazy?! Crazy, boy?! This isn’t crazy…” the sheriff shook his head sadly. “This is a disaster!”

The lawman put his hands on his hips and looked down. “Shoot…don’t give up yet, sheriff. There’s a chance.”

“I don’t want a chance,” Red answered harshly, “I want to WIN! I want those damn leeches dead! I want those people SAFE! And now you say we got a damn monster to wrangle too?!”

“Everything bleeds,” the other man offered.

“Yeah...and we’ll be bleedin’ all over the ground soon enough!”

“Look, we gotta run NOW.”

Red sighed and took out his revolver, quietly spinning the cylinder, checking each chamber was loaded. The officer had never seen him like this before. He was normally so stoic, unflinching...of course, he could hardly blame him with he was burdened with, but still.

“Let’s go. Whatever happens, we gotta try to protect these folks.”

Red grimaced. “Better start prayin’ to God if you believe in him, boy...maybe he’ll help us out.”

“Maybe I can help you out, too.”

The unfamiliar voice made Red’s face shoot up.

In the doorway, quite a surprising figure stood sideways, leaning against the doorframe with a taloned foot resting against the frame as well. His head was turned to the side as to look straight at the pair of men.

A koutu, one of the birdfolk of the west was standing in the doorway. His feathers were white on his head and brown everywhere else. He wore a brown duster, sleeveless of course as to not interfere with his wings, with a red kerchief tied around his neck. Underneath was a brown button-up shirt, and he wore short pants as well. As they stopped at his raptor legs, Red assumed they were just for modesty’s sake.

He had a pistol holster at his side, pouches along his belt, and some sort of bag slung over his back. Finally, he had a brown hat with a wide brim atop him, looking like it was shaped custom-made for his avian head.

He looked at the pair with a confident though serious gaze, not a smile or smirk to be found. Red immediately jumped out of his seat, revolver firmly in his hand. The officer in the white hat held onto his holster.

“What the hell?!” The sheriff yelled out. The bird only reached up and tipped his hat.

“Howdy.”

“Who the hell are you?!” Red shouted, authoritative and snarling. If the bird had eyebrows, he would have been raising them.

“Nobody important, sir. Jus’ passin’ through.”

Red’s aggression quickly simmered, though he groaned and rolled his eyes. “Ugh. A wanderer, huh?”

“If you’d like. I prefer the term ‘wayfarer’ myself, sir.”

The officer in the white hat shrugged. “Sorry for the attitude, mister. Sheriff’s got a lot on his plate, you hear?”

“I hear ya.”

“Whaddya doin’ in my office, stranger?” Red demanded. The koutu looked to the side.

“Couldn’t help but overhear ya while I was passin’ by, you two. Sounds like you’re in a real fix. I’d like to help you fellas out, if I could.”

“And jus’ howdya think yer gonna help us? Kill all the bandits yerself? Or maybe you’d like to kill the goddamned dragon!”

“Well, not by myself. But I can pitch in.”

“Mighty kind offer,” the officer said with a nod, “We need all the help we can get.”

“Ain’t gonna do a thing,” Red said bitterly, “We’re all gonna get blasted to high heaven.”

“I’m worth my weight in bullets.”

“Oh yeah? You think yer some kind of hero? Think you can tumble with those beasties out there?” the sheriff said with a sneer.

For the first time since he appeared, the bird smirked.  “You’d be surprised…”

The sheriff shook his head and put his revolver in its holster. “It’s your funeral, stranger. Follow us.”

The koutu got off the doorframer and stepped to the side. “After you, gentlemen.”

The group of lawmen left the sheriff’s office with the koutu in tow. The bird was silent for some time until they began to make their way out of Pike’s Creek.

“So what’re you thinkin’? What’s yer strategy here?”

“Not a damn clue,” the sheriff admitted.

“We, uhh...we ain’t never had to deal with dragons before,” the officer said quietly, “Though we were thinkin’ maybe dynamite might blast that sucker out of his britches.”

“Dynamite?” the koutu said, voice dripping with skepticism.

“What’s the issue?” the officer shot back.

“Pah! Big lizard’ll just fly up! You’d better have the throwing arm of a god if you wanna reach em’ with those!”

“You got a better idea?!” the sheriff snapped.

The bird hesitated. “Actually...yeah.”

“And just what’s that?”

The koutu hurried up beside them and pulled out his revolver. It was large, long and looked heavy as hell.

“I’m gonna plug em’ full of holes.”

The sheriff scoffed. The officer gave the bird a funny look. “You sure that’s a good idea, mister?” “You’ll see,” the koutu offered.

“Yer crazy!” Red shouted, “Yer as good as dead if you think you can just up n’ shoot that beastie!”

“You’ll see,” he repeated. The sheriff shook his head again.

“God, why do I always get the loony ones?”

“Uh, hey,” the officer interrupted, “I’m sure you’re a good shot and all, and that’s one hell of a big iron, but this ain’t no outlaw.”

“Oh, I know. This ain’t the first dragon I’ve tangled with.”

The officer looked genuinely surprised at that. “No kidding?! Well shoot, maybe you really can get us outta this, then…”

“You’ve fought one of these things before?!” Red questioned, his anger seeming to melt at the realization.

The bird nodded. “Yup. She was a biggun, lemme tell ya. ‘Course I had help during that scuffle.”

“How’d ya do it?” the officer asked.

“Well, me n’ a few other gunslingers rounded up a posse. Ganged up on ‘er. We had all sortsa big guns on our side so it wasn’t too bad. Speakin’ of...am I gettin’ any help from you or the rest of your folks?”

“We’re uh, a little busy, what with the gang comin’ to town n’ all.” the officer answered with a frown.

“Ah...well, what about you two?”

“We’ll pitch in...as long as we can,” the sheriff answered grimly.

“Appreciate it. You don’t have to go too crazy out there. Keep your distance. Just make sure to pop off a few rounds whenever I’m in a fix, ya hear?”

“Well shoot, don’t wanna leave you doing all the work out there,” the officer announced, “Shouldn’t be the rear guard, now!”

“You know any fancy spells?” the koutu questioned.

“Naw, not a soul ‘round these parts.”

“Then don’t push yourself. Just trust me. I should be fine.”

“If you say so…”

The harsh, unforgiving rays of the sun were starting to make all three of them sweat and sigh, and they hadn’t even started exerting themselves yet! They reached the outer limits of town, the lines of wooden buildings coming to an end as they began their march to the river outside.

“Say, I didn’t catch your names,” the bird said, turning his head to the pair.

The officer in the white hat spared him a glace. “Ah. Well, the name’s Michaels. Officer Michaels.” He pointed a thumb over to the sheriff. “Aaand that there’s Red. Sheriff, sure as you could tell.”

“I see. A pleasure to meet you folks.”

There was a long pause as the three walked. Finally, Michaels turned to look at the koutu again.

“...so?”

The bird shot him a look back. “So...it’s nice to be acquainted.”

“But we ain’t.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“You haven’t introduced yourself.”

The koutu shrugged. “I haven’t.”

Michaels frowned. “Y’know, it’s mighty rude not to introduce yerself after everyone else has.”

As they talked, the group neared the edge of a cliffside. Near where they were there was a massive arch of stone hanging over one side of the cliff to the other, almost like a miniature tunnel. There was also a large drop below, and on the other side the ground came back to the same level. A gorge. A gorge with a large river flowing through it.

A gorge where a dragon was currently sitting.

The beast wasn’t too large, likely a young adult. It had red scales, a firebreather. He was currently lying in the river, head resting against the rocky grounds while his body was partially submerged. Was he washing up? Stopping to drink? Just taking a dip?

The koutu didn’t know, but he did know one thing; his target was waiting.

“Tell ya what,” he spoke in a whisper, “If I live through this, I’ll tell ya my name. How’s that?”

“Oh, fer-”

“Yeah yeah,” he interrupted the sheriff, “You two, take some cover,” he pointed at a large boulder beside them, “I’m goin’ in.”

“You nut!” Red whispered back, “He’ll charr ya to smithereens!”

“Just back me up n’ we should all be headin’ back soon,” the koutu assured him.

“Well...shoot, alright,” Michaels muttered, “But I still got the dynamite.”

“Get it ready, you won’t have a chance once he’s in the air.” The koutu took a deep breath. “...here we go. Best a’ luck to ya, officers.”

The koutu spread his wings out and leapt over the cliffside, soaring out into the gorge. The sheriff and lawman quickly crouched behind the boulder, guns drawn.

The bird landed on a flat strip of rock about halfway down the gorge, still without his weapons drawn. “Howdy, mister!” The red dragon’s eyes snapped open, his body unmoving as his gaze focused on the gunslinger.

“You dare rouse me from my rest?” the great beast spoke in a melodious, yet mighty voice, “Who are you that is so foolish to anger me?”

“Oh, ‘scuse me mister, but I’ve heard some nasty things...like that yer’ about to burn that little town down yonder to ash?”

“Indeed I am,” the dragon retorted, “My domain is mine to play with. Your point?”

“Ah. That’s a damn shame, ‘cause I take offense to that, sir.”

“Oh?” the dragon rose, his head quickly moving to rise on par with the koutu’s ground. “And just what are you planning on doing about this, you who are so small and weak?”

“Well for starters, Plan A is askin’ ya nicely to reconsider.”

The dragon let out a booming laugh. “Gahahahaha! Pathetic! No, you will not be asking anything of me. This withering husk of life will be purified by my most sacred flames. I shall not be persuaded.”

The koutu shrugged. “Worth a shot. Looks like I’ll just have to stop you myself then.”

The dragon’s grin grew manic. “I would like to see you try. Go on. Raise your arm to strike. I will cut you down in a moment.”

The bird smirked before letting out a sharp whistle. The dragon looked confused for a moment before realization hit him...in the form of a stick of dynamite.

Hurled from over the cliffside, it smacked into the dragon’s head before exploding in a spectacular fashion.

“Damn perfect throw, officer!” the koutu yelled before reeling back and letting a bolt of magic loose. The glowing blue spear flew forward, piercing the beast that still reeled from the explosion.

Michaels’ eyes went wide. “He’s a sorcerer!” he cried out to the sheriff, “No wonder he was so damn cocky!”

“Shit,” Red mumbled, “Maybe I was wrong about all this.”

The beast roared out in fury, eyes burning as they honed in on the now flying koutu.

“YOU WILL BURN AWAY FOR THIS, FOOLISH MORTAL!”

Mood Music

“Yer’ outgunned, friend!” the koutu shot back, whirling to the side as a plume of flames erupted from the dragon’s maw. Using his momentum, the stranger spun around mid-flight and took out his revolver, fanning the hammer and emptying all six shots into the beast.

The two humans noted a strange blue tinge of air that enveloped the bullets as they flew through the air, becoming plumes of magic that dissipated around the scales where the bullets landed.

“Enchanted bullets too!” Michaels shouted, “We can do this, sir!”

Red’s eyes narrowed. “Cover him!” the Sheriff began firing off rounds from his revolver at the dragon, while Michaels did the same.

Shell casings hit the ground alongside the stranger, who quickly reloaded his revolver as the dragon snarled, coming to a sudden pause. The beast felt the bullets from the pair up above hit him in the back.

The dragon whirled around, letting out a roar and glaring at the sheriff and white hat…

But before he could go after them, the koutu held up a taloned hand, before bringing it down. A bolt of divine lightning descended from the sky, striking the beast and making it cry out in pain.

Huffing, the dragon slowly turned his head to see the stranger, hand glowing and pulsing with magic as his other hand held his revolver aimed at the behemoth.

There was a moment of silence as everyone took in what just happened.

“Y-you…” the beast spoke softly, a hint of concern in his voice.

“I’m right here, huckleberry!” the koutu shouted, firing off another round and striking the beast’s head.

The red dragon let out another roar, recovering from the blast before flying out towards the koutu, who leapt off the cliffside he stood on and began flying along the gorge.

The two humans’ eyes were wide as dinner plates. Michaels looked over to Red.

“Well shoot, sir! He ain’t no sorcerer...he’s a goddamn paladin!”

The sheriff shook his head. “Crazy bastard...no wonder! Well it’s about damn time we got some proper help around here!”

Michaels frowned. “This shooter ain’t doin’ it. I need more kick.” the lawman tucked his pistol away and reached for the rifle on his back. Unslinging the lever-action repeater into his hands, the officer closed an eye and took careful aim.

A steady barrage of gunshots rang out as Michaels started firing and cocking the lever of the repeater, while Red kept firing his revolver.

The dragon, furious by this point, ignored the pain of the volleys of bullets hitting his back and went flying after the koutu, eyes near slits.

With another roar, the dragon let forth a jet of flames from his maw, the koutu whirling to the side as the fire flew past where he had been just a moment ago.

The sudden spike in temperature made the paladin wince. “Hoo! That’s hot!”

“You will wish that was as hot is it gets when I am through with you, bird!” the dragon barked back, spinning through the air himself as he moved to the stranger’s side.

The speed and agility of the dragon caught the koutu by surprise. Just a moment ago he seemed so clumsy and lumbering, but the dragons were the rulers of the sky…

With a crack of his tail, the koutu was slammed into with murderous force, sent rocketing to the cliffside and slamming into it. He hit the rocks so hard he left a small crater...but the paladin groaned, and grabbed at the sides of the man-sized crater.

He had thrown up a ward at the exact moment the dragon’s tail shifted. If he had been just a fraction of a second slower…

“Holy land of God, he’s alive!” Red cried, both of the humans staring slack-jawed as the bird pulled himself forward and onto the ground. Even the dragon seemed to reel back from the koutu’s survival, unintentionally showing his own fear.

“B-but you...I…”

The stranger snarled at the dragon, hand already pulsing with magical energy.

“I’m gonna put you in a world of hurt, amigo.”

The bird reeled back and the magic changed, blue lights shifting into the likeness of a javelin. He heaved the javelin forward and let it go with all his might, magical weapon flying through the air and straight into the dragon's chest.

The beast roared and snarled as the holy javelin pierced him, quickly fading away into nothing. The stranger followed up with another bolt of lightning, and then began firing off shots as he leapt back into the air and began flying back towards the humans.

“Graaaaah...it is nothing! Your fortune cannot last! I WILL BURY YOU!”

 The koutu huffed as he twirled through the air, occasionally popping off shots at the dragon. They only cause minor injury, but they were certainly starting to pile up. The beast was grunting and growling with each movement, wincing as he adjusted his wings and moved his body.

All that punishment had certainly hurt him, only...there was quite a ways to go.

Narrowly avoiding a claw swipe then diving straight down to avoid a gust of flames, the paladin knew the dragon was right; his luck would run out eventually. If he just kept trying to whittle him down…

Have to think of something quick. Those humans, there has to be something they can do...

His eyes darted to the massive stone tunnel. It was enormous, enormous enough to fit even the dragon currently on his tail.

Wait...that’s it!

The koutu focused for a moment, eyes narrowing as he honed in on the white hat’s mind…

Hey, Michaels! You still got some dynamite?!

He could hear the bewildered response in his own mind. W-what?! What the hell?!

Yeah yeah, I’m talkin’ to your mind, I can do that! Now tell me, ya got that dynamite?

Wha-yeah, yeah I do! The hell you askin’ for, mister?!

I’ve got a plan, the birdman announced, I need some heavy explosives. How much you got?

There was a pause. W-well, I uhh...look, don’t tell Red about this, but I brought a couple crates. Hid em’ here ‘cause I thought we’d need em’. Right by that tree behind us. You plannin’ somethin’ big?

VERY big. That big ol’ archway, put those crates by the supports. You follow?

Michaels’ voice was ecstatic now. Ho boy, do I! On it!

The koutu continued evading the dragon and darting from left to right, dodging swings and fire breath all the while.

“FILTH!” the dragon roared, “YOU ARE FINISHED!”

“We’ll see about that!” the koutu hollered back, twirling through the air as he picked up more and more speed.

In the far distance, he could make out the two humans hurrying down a less steep incline to the bottom of the ravine, carrying a massive crate between the pair of them.

He kept up the pace. His initial skirmish with the dragon had caused them to fly pretty far from their initial starting point. Behind him, the dragon breathed fire and shouted further threats.

The two lawmen reached the stone arches and quickly got to work, burying bundles of dynamite along the foundations of the stone.

The gunslinger looked over his shoulder just in time to see the dragon breathe a plume of fire at him, diving and whirling to the right just in time. He could feel the scorching heat of the flames as they flew straight past him.

Further along, the humans seemed to be wrapping up their job, with dynamite scattered all throughout the bottom of the archway.

Alright, the white hat called to his mind, What’s our next move?

On my signal, light the fuse and run like hell…

The koutu dove lower, increasing his velocity as he dropped from the sky to only just flying above the river. The dragon remained in pursuit as they approached the stone archway…

Now that he was closer, he could see the pair shouting at each other, waving their hands wildly.

There was little doubt in the koutu’s head that they were arguing over the plan. Red likely started yelling about how crazy it was after Michaels told him.

“Come on...don’t let me down now…” the paladin muttered as he flew closer, the water underneath him nearly touching him as he struggled to keep his momentum.

Continuing to rocket forward with the dragon hot on his tail, he narrowed his eyes, judging the distance between himself and the others, along with the speed he was moving. If he just made it a little closer…

NOW! He shouted in his head, sending the order to the lawman.

In a moment, he saw the pair of humans bolt up the path they came running down, with lit fuses on the piles of dynamite signaling the impending explosion…

The koutu noticed a shift in the winds behind him. He turned and saw, much to his shock, the dragon slowing down, a noticeable amount of concern written on the creature’s face.

It knew what he was trying to do.

“What’s the matter, scared?!” the bird called back, “You yellow-bellied coward!”

As he turned his attention back in front of him, he noticed the sound of wildly flapping wings and deep snarl. It was now doubling its efforts to catch him.

Perhaps it was arrogance. Perhaps it was blind fury. Perhaps the dragon simply thought it could catch him before they reached the craggy rocks up ahead. Either way, it was now gaining on him, trying desperately to get him.

The gunslinger could feel his heart pounding against his chest now. He was in between a furious, rampaging dragon and a pile of lit dynamite that could blast him to pieces...and both were closing in on him.

As he reached the arches, he could practically feel the dragon on his back...and below him, he could see the lit dynamite’s fuse was entirely gone.

The koutu winced, praying to God for just a second’s more time-

A deafening explosion signalled the end to his plan. Dipping through the archway and emerging out the other side, the stranger barely had enough time to think as the earth shook, more explosions triggered as they caught more dynamite in each blast, and the dragon behind him let out a howling roar of agony.

The koutu turned and saw a whole ton of solid rock collapsing, the unique natural landmark crashing down onto the distracted and pain-wracked dragon. The beast collapsed into the river, covered in rubble.

The two humans, having looped around along the top of the cliffside, slid down into the gorge. The koutu, meanwhile, landed on the ground beside the carnage.

Michaels let out a loud cheer, keeping a hand on his hat as he slid down to the koutu. “Hoo-wee! You did it! I can’t believe you did it! That was a helluva stunt there, partner!”

Red reached the bottom after him, shaking his head. “Goddamn. I thought you were roast turkey, friend.”

The stranger shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

Before either of them could answer, another voice made itself known.

The low, pained cry of a dragon.

The trio turned to look at the beast. It lay half-buried in the rubble of the stone that once stood tall above the river. Only the front half of the dragon was visible through the ruins. With claws outstretched towards the group, and an expression of suffering written on its face which was half submerged in the river, there was no doubting this creature was badly hurt, if not close to death.

“A-aaahhh...o-oh, my…”

Micheals quickly took his revolver out of his holster and took aim. “Ain’t so tough now, are ya, partner?”

Red followed suit, walking up and aiming his revolver at the eyes of the beast. “What’s that I heard about scorching my town?”

The dragon let out a groan. “No...not yet...not like this…”

The koutu put his hands on his hips and gave the beast a serious look. “It’s over, amigo. Yer finished.”

The dragon’s eyes widened in horror. “It cannot be...no...NO! You must not!”

The paladin shook his head. “Gimme one good reason.”

The beast, to his surprise, remained silent. The koutu raised a brow.

“No promises of riches? No artifacts? No blusterin’ threats?”

“I...I have no hoard, no fortune. I have nothing. Nothing of my own, and nothing to give, a-and…” the beast’s eyes grew hazy and distant. “F-feels...cold…”

The koutu’s eyes shot open as he realized it. This beast was dying.

The explosions had done more damage than he had thought, and with all the rubble he couldn’t even check.

The humans behind him coldly stared at the monster in silence, guns still aimed at him. They seemed to believe this might have been a trick.

The paladin turned back to the dragon, a promising, yet risky and optimistic idea in his mind.

“I can save ya.”

“What?!”

That word had been uttered by both the dragon and the humans.

“Yeah. If you want.”

“The hell are ya doin’?!” Red demanded, glaring at the birdman.

“Y-you would...do that?” the red dragon asked. Both surprise and hope were apparent in his desperate speech.

“Suuure...but this is conditional, ya hear? You gotta make me a promise.”

“Anything!” the beast cried. Apparently once his delusions of invincibility were shattered, this dragon realized just how much life he had left to live, and was willing to do what other dragons might not to preserve it.

The koutu crouched down next to the dragon and stared straight into its large, reptilian eye. “In exchange for your life, I want you to do a complete 180, ya hear?”

The beast stared back at him, but his eye was unfocused and clouded. “What...do you mean?”

“From here on out, this ‘domain’ is not yours to ‘play with’...but to protect.”

A sharp hiss rang out as the dragon attempted to move its body among the rubble. “Y-you mean…”

“That’s right. You keep an eye out on this town. You come runnin’ when they holler for yer help. You help out the law with criminals on the run, keep the town safe. Hell, maybe you should help em’ out with gatherin’ and huntin’ too!”

Michaels sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Look, that’s a mighty nice thing you’re tryin’ to do here pal, but I don’t think he’ll-”

“Yes...I will do it...”

The lawman tilted his head. “Wha-”

The koutu smirked, craning his neck towards the dragon. “What was that, mister? I didn’t quite hear that...”

“I agree!” the red beast said hurriedly.

“Swear on it.”

“I swear on my life, my honor, and all I hold most dear!” the dragon cried, “Please...my vision grows dark…”

The koutu grimaced. “This is gonna take a lot outta me, partner. You PROMISE yer gonna keep up yer end of the bargain?”

The beast began to twitch. “P-please...I beseech thee…”

Realizing he had to do this right now if he wanted the dragon to live, the paladin kneeled beside the beast and placed his hands upon the larger creature.

Closing his eyes, the paladin willed all the energy within his body to move into the dragon, muttering quietly in prayer as the divine aided him.

The two humans viewed this scene with a healthy amount of skepticism, backing up and keeping their weapons at the ready.

“Lord, this is crazy,” Red muttered.

“Who knows?” Michaels said with a shrug, “Maybe it’ll work.”

After over a minute of praying and utilizing his holy magic, the paladin at last stopped, his body spent from the taxing effort of healing this great beast.

He rose to his feet, wobbling for a moment before going for a pack on his belt. He took out a sleepskip potion and quickly began to guzzle it down.

The dragon, in the meantime, began to blink. Its head rose and it looked around the area with a vested interest.

The koutu sighed as he screwed the top back onto the potion and stuffed it back into his pouch. “What are ya starin’ at, partner?”

“Hmm...my vision has returned, in perfect clarity.”

“Good! So...feel better?”

“...I feel perfect.”

The dragon followed this up with a surge upwards, bursting out of the rubble with seemingly no effort. He flapped his wings and rose above the debris and ruin, circling around and landing in the gorge beside the koutu.

With the huge beast staring down at him with an unreadable expression, the paladin worried he might have simply just gotten tricked. He tensed up, ready to act, when the dragon spoke.

“You saved my life. For what reason, I am unsure. You have no reason to trust me. I am a threat. I am your enemy...and yet, you showed me kindness anyway.”

The koutu shrugged, a false grin plastered on his beak. “Figured I could take you if you turned out to be lying.”

“...you are a poor liar. But it is obvious that is not your trade. No, you follow the old ways. Those tenets of honor and chivalry, a sacred warrior code forged in the crucible of your precious church.”

The koutu let out a laugh. “Aww, what gave it away?”

“At any rate...I am in your debt, and as such, I will uphold our bargain. For this second chance, I, Astronomus, hereby proclaim myself as the Guardian of Pike’s Creek, home to those venerable warriors that showed me mercy when I needed it most.”

The koutu nodded. “That’s good to hear...cause we’ve got yer first mission ready, friend.”

Astronomus seemed genuinely surprised. “Already? Did you offer me this deal because you had a use for me to begin with?”

“Dead on.”

Astronomus’ eyes narrowed. “Very clever...very well, what is it?”

…

Gunshots rang out all around the town as the bandits continued their advance. Each time they attacked, the town posse was pushed back. Each time the citizens attempted a counter attack, they lost people. They now settled for giving ground rather than risking more lives.

Deputy Harry loaded yet another six rounds into his revolver, sitting behind a fence as cover. He had lost his rifle when the bandits blasted his cover with dynamite further up the street. Like all the other lawmen, he had a hat, vest, and a shiny badge identifying him.

A few others were spread out along the street, hiding behind various bits of cover as both they and the bandits popped off shots at each other.

Things were getting desperate now. A few of the men that joined up to fight had run out of ammo, and were sent back to the sheriff’s to get more. A couple had been killed, and two had been shot.

Harry grimaced as he shot a bandit and watched him go down. There were too many. Things were getting desperate…

A man rounded the corner and tackled him, sending both of them to the ground. Just as the bandit rose to a kneeling position and aimed his gun at the deputy, a loud bang made him freeze.

The man collapsed on top of the deputy, who quickly threw him aside and looked out to the road.

A woman in a simple dress, holding a rifle, nodded at him. This was Alice, the local cook’s daughter.

Things were bad, and they needed every hand they had…

“Thanks!” Harry called out as he got back up and pressed himself up against the fence. He steadied his balance, taking a deep breath and reading himself for the next attack…

With a bellowing cry, the entire group of bandits charged forward, aiming to overwhelm the defenders in a blind rush. Crowds of men stormed down the street, closing the distance with exceptional speed.

It took a moment for it to sink into Harry’s head: No matter how much they shot, they wouldn’t take enough of them down before they were overrun.

Gritting his teeth, Harry cried out. “Everyone, fall back! I’ll cover you!”

He only fired two shots before an earth-shaking roar made everyone taking part in the battle freeze.

That roar came from behind him, and after the scare this morning, that could only mean one thing…

Slowly, he turned and looked up, and within the sky, the source of his fears approached. A massive beast of red scales and sharp eyes, wings blocking out the sun with their sheer size, and an imposing visage of a legendary creature.

The dragon had arrived.

Harry let his shoulders slump and his head lower. It had kept its promise; it was here to burn Pike’s Creek to cinders and kill everyone inside.

The town’s done for...but maybe I can get a few folks out…

Steeling himself, Harry took a few sharp breaths and held his revolver in a vice-grip, hands shaking.

Before he could even call out for everyone to follow him, a bewildering sight caught the breath in his throat.

A birdman in gunslinger garb stood up on top of the dragon and leapt into the air, doing a backflip before catching the wind and flying forward towards the group. 

The dragon passed the town posse and stopped in front of the charging bandits, giving them only a moment to scream before he let out a plume of flames from his maw.

The jet of fire poured down onto the crowd of bandits, charring them to bits in a mere second. There was some comfort in the lack of screams; at least the usually agonizing way to die was quick with dragonfire.

The dragon then landed among the buildings along the main town road, only having barely enough room to do so. In a moment that only furthered his shock, Harry watched Sheriff Red and Officer Michaels slide down the beast’s back and onto the ground.

“What in the goddamn…?”

“Heya, deputy!” Michaels shouted cheerfully, a lever-action rifle resting on his shoulder.

“The hell is goin’ on?!” Harry shouted, confused.

“We made a new friend,” Red explained, pointing a thumb over his back, “Not this one, another one who talked him into...helping out.”

“Helping out…?” “This fella’s turned his way around, ain’t that right, pal?!” Michaels called out, turning around.

The dragon frowned and lowered his head. “Indeed. I am Astronomus, and I am here to aid you. In exchange for mercy at the hands of these victors, I have sworn to become the Guardian of Pike’s Creek. I will drive these rabble out.

Michaels pointed at the building beside them. “Err, hey, Astronomus…”

The tavern had been hit by the flames as well, part of the wall currently covered in flames that licked at the chipping paint along the welcome sign.

The dragon performed what Harry could only imagine was an embarrassed grin before flapping his wing at it, the whipping winds snuffing out the flames.

The deputy watched as the koutu in the distance twirled through the air and fired a few shots at what he presumed were fleeing bandits.

“Who wants some lead in they ear?!” the bird cried out faintly, “Step on up!”

Harry took off his hat and gave Red an exasperated look. “You got some weird help around here, sheriff.”

…

“...and that’s it.”

Red gave the bird a grin. The pair were overlooking Pike’s Creek from a hill on the northern side of town. The sun was beginning to set, the sky bathing the town in a vibrant hue of orange.

After the fight concluded, folks had began to clean up. The dragon was busy helping out and adjusting to its new role as protector rather than destroyer. With everyone else busy, Red decided to humor the stranger’s request to see him off.

“So all your affairs are settled,” the koutu noted.

“That’s right, and it’s all thanks to you, stranger.”

“Eh, I lucked out. If my gamble with the dragon backfired…”

“It didn’t, and that’s all I care about. You saved our bacon out there.”

The koutu shrugged. “It’s what I do.”

The sheriff turned his attention from the sunset to the stranger. “So, if you don’t mind me asking...who in the hell are you, son? You did some amazing things out there, with that there holy magic.”

“Perhaps this ain’t the sorta thing to admit to a man of the law, but...I’m a vigilante out for blood.”

The sheer, stark honestly of that statement made the sheriff’s eyes go wide. “Eh?”

The koutu nodded. “It’s true.”

The dragon said he’s a terrible liar…

Red cleared his throat. “Well, then...what in the blazes are you doing?”

The koutu gazed into the setting sun, expression turning sullen. “It goes back a long way. See, back in my hometown, there was this...bully. He liked to torment us other kids, got a real kick out of it.”

Red seemed skeptical. “Okay…”

The koutu’s eyes narrowed. “But then he beat my little brother with a rock.”

“Ah, blazes…”

“I beat the stuffing out of em’,” the koutu admitted, “I beat him so bad he threw up and couldn’t move til’ a grown up found him some time later.”

“So that’s gotta do with yer’ blood feud?”

“Yeah. You see...that kid...he didn’t make it.”

“Holy hell…”

The stranger shook his head. “My little brother nearly didn’t, either. If I hadn’t stopped him…”

“I understand,” Red said quietly, “I get it. It’s fucked up, but I get it.”

The koutu slowly nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the pair before the koutu gathered himself and continued.

“Well, his paw didn’t like that very much. Came to my house and stabbed MY paw. Thankfully some fine folks were walkin’ by and saw the whole thing. Paw pulled through, he skipped town when he realized he was gonna be thrown in jail, and life moved on.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Joined the church, they realized I had a knack for the whole magic thing, so I joined up with the clerics. Ascended to paladin not too long ago.”

“Impressive,” Red said with a nod.

“Well, I tried to move on. You do things you don’t mean sometimes, you know? I wish things had turned out differently, but all you can do is try to make up for it, go onto a better path. Ya know?”

Red nodded. “I gotcha...but you don’t seem at all like a man out fer blood.”

“I wouldn’t be normally, but something happened recently. Came home and found my brother out like a light on the floor. The folks were out of town...and my sis was missing. On her bed, I found a note taunting me, about how vengeance was finally his...and it was signed with that man’s initials.”

The sheriff reeled from the information. “He came back after all those years to hurt ya?”

The bird nodded, eyes locked on the ground. “Guess he was planning to settle the score while everyone else was tryin’ to forget…”

“My God…”

“Well, I started tracking him, he left a pretty obvious trail on the way out. I started out on the roads, and began to notice that I thought I had a pretty good idea where he was going. I came to Geralthin, was passing through here, and, well...here I am.”

“You gotta rescue yer sis, and you wasted all this time helping a couple of fools out?!”

“It’s what I do,” the koutu said, more quietly than the first time.

“Aw, hell, pal...you didn’t need to do this. You’ve got more important stuff to worry about.”

“I told you already, I’m not a man to leave others out in the dark. I know what it feels like to be helpless, to lose what you care about. I ain’t about to watch that happen to Lord knows how many folks.

“...you’re a good man. I apologize for the tongue lashin’ back when we met.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the koutu assured, “All water under the bridge. Now I’ve gotta get goin’, but first…”

The gunslinger reached into the pouches on his belt and began to rummage through.

“I’d like ya to have this.”

The bird pulled out a large rock, decorated with strange runes, the indents along the design were glowing a dim blue. He held it out to the sheriff.

“A...a rock?” Red questioned, taking it and inspecting the surface.

“Wrong. An anchor, partner. The second half to this.”

The bird pulled out another rock with similar designs and a blue glow, but this one was much smaller, and shaped to be easily held in a fist, unlike the large, disklike stone he had offered.

“Anchor? You mean that fancy magic that holds stuff?”

“Not exactly. This is the anchor half of a spell, not the anchor spell itself. That’s part of the teleportation ritual. Ya see, that’s what teleports, and this here rock in my hand tells it what to teleport.”

“You mean…”

The koutu grinned. “Yup! You just put that rock on the ground and say the magic word, and I’ll be alerted from my half of it. I should come runnin’ unless I’m doin’ somethin’ REAL important.”

Red was in disbelief. “Y-ya mean you’ll help us out of ANOTHER fix?!”

“If it comes to it, yeah. I’m really startin’ to like you fellas, and yer fine little town. If you need help, or if you just wanna see me, by all means, call me over!”

“Aw hell, you’re really somethin’, ya know that mister?”

The koutu answered by quickly wrapping his wings around the man in a hug. The human was shocked by the sudden display of affection, unsure how to respond.

“Resolve,” the bird whispered, beak beside his ear.

“Eh...what?”

The paladin pulled back and winked. “The magic word. Just call it out when you want to and the magic in that stone’ll spring to life.

“Oh! I gotcha. Jeez...you caught me off guard, there.”

“You know how it is,” the koutu admitted, “Dunno when I’ll see ya next, so might as well put my cards on the table. I think you folks are swell, and I hope the best fer ya all!”

“You too, mister!”

The koutu stretched his arms. “Eyup...well, I really should be going, now. Baddies are awaitin’!”

As he took a step forward, Red held an arm out. “Wait a second!”

The koutu stopped and turned back. “Yeah?”

“You never told me, stranger!”

The bird raised a brow. “Told ya what now?”

“You said if you lived you’d tell me yer name!”

The koutu’s eyes lit up. “Ah, right! Well...call me...Razorwing!”

Red blinked. “Yer...Razorwing?”

“That’s right! Now...see ya around, sheriff!”

The stranger leapt into the air and unfurled his wings, catching the wind and soaring off into the sky. In his wake, he left a conflicted and confused sheriff.

…

“Yeah, it’s right here.”

Michaels led Red further into the library. When the sheriff told the lawman what the bird had told him, Michaels got a funny look in his eye.

He claimed he knew something about “Razorwing”.

Now Red watched as Michaels pulled a book off of the shelves, holding it up to the sheriff’s face.

Two things really caught the man’s attention. Firstly, the picture.

The cover had a lovingly crafted illustration of a koutu with a striking white head and a brown body. He wore flowing, white robes with a short, vibrant red cape and had a quiver on his hip. In his hands he held a longbow, aiming it up and striking a heroic pose worthy of a statue.

The second was the title of the book: “The Adventures of Razorwing”.

Red blinked. “W-what in the hell?”

“Yeah,” Michaels said, “That’s Razorwing.”

“B-but he’s lookin like some man from the dark ages!”

“Close,” the officer said with a smile, “He’s from the Middle Ages, about 1350. He was a big celebrity in his day, and his fame only increased after a couple generations. He was an archer that went on all sorts of adventures. Fightin’ monsters, stoppin’ bad guys, savin’ everyone...a real man of honor. Did you know he could shoot so straight he could shoot a man twice and split the first arrow?”

“You know an awful lot about this bird fella.”

Michaels shrugged innocently. “Consider me a fan. Mama always read me storybooks about him when I was a kid.”

“He’s that popular, huh? Well, anyway...what does all this mean? I don’t get it,” Red admitted.

“That man that helped us out...think about it. He’s a warrior on a mission, a skilled and brave man out adventurin’ to stop bad guys. He’s a shooter with some special kick, and he shares his looks with a certain famous someone…”

“Ya mean...he took his name?”

“That’s right. He chose an old folk hero from his country he identified with...and he’s tryin’ to keep the torch lit. Least that’s what I think.”

The sheriff shook his head. “Two Razorwings...that’ll throw folks for a loop, don’t you think?”

Michaels laughed. “That’s only if he ever becomes famous.”

Red looked out a window beside him, gazing into the quickly darkening sky. “...I got a feeling he’ll make it through his journey. He’s something else.”

“True,” the lawman uttered quietly, “It’s like Razorwing always said...every age has its heroes.”

Tag list: @thereisnothingwrongwithbeingmad, @lady-redshield-writes, @paper-shield-and-wooden-sword, @sheralynnramsey, @tawnywrites, @writer-on-time, @oceanwriter, @zwergis-spilledink, @fluffpiggy, @elliewritesfantasy, @homesteadchronicles, @laurenwastestimewriting, @elaynab-writing, @the-ichor-of-ruination, @candy687, @fierywords, @shewrites-sometimes, @nerds-and-nebulae, @purpleshadows1989

[vagrantblvrd]

fic I wish you'd write: Agency AU but with superpowers/supernatural twist? :D? starring whoever you feel like right now but I'm feeling particularly Jeremy, Gavin, and/or Ryan rn

Oh my God, I love this so much?

Jeremy starts out in this Agency AU as a cop, right? And he’s on a task for investigating ~strange homicides/missing persons, and things go Terribly Wrong.

They’re planning a raid on this location – warehouse or some such and everyone gets separated, their radios fail – just all kinds of fuckery.

Jeremy gets attacked by someone in the dark and bitten – he thinks it’s some guy on PCP or something similar because who fucking bites other people, right? The guy will not listen when Jeremy tells him to put his hands behind his head and whatnot, and Jeremy is forced to shoot him because he keeps attacking him.

And then he goes to find the rest of his task force and everyone’s dead or just missing and it’s a whole clusterfuck.

Afterward his bosses are clearly lying about what happened, and he gets put on other cases and no one’s looking into what happened???

He puts up with it for a while, but the whole thing keeps eating at him until he looks into on his own, and his bosses find out. Threaten to fire him if he keeps up with his private investigation but he quits instead.

Throws himself into solving this case – he lost good friends when everything went bad – and I the back of his head is this little voice telling him what a bad idea it is but he can’t not do this thing right?

And he ends up stumbling into this bigger mess that Gavin and Ryan are investigating with their agency.

Keeps seeing things from the corner of his eye – swears it’s a person, but when he turns to look it’s just a weird shadow being cast by everyday objects and the like. This black cat watching him from the top of a fence or some such, a raven perched in a tree. Some fuck-off huge dog skulking in the shadows.

(Strange that he sees them all over the city, but whatever. Weirder things and the whatnot.)

Slow shift from typical ~mystery story to urban fantasy shenanigans and Jeremy doesn’t realize it at first. Always has some explanation for whatever he happens to see, but even he has a hard time believing it after a while.

The baddies catch Jeremy when he gets too close and he’s dragged in to be the sacrifice in some ritual – summoning a demon or something along those lines because of fucking course – and this whole time he’s just like. Wondering what is wrong with all these loonies???

But then Gavin and Ryan show up to Save The Day, right?

Gavin’s got his knives – one’s got enough silver in it to give a werewolf a real bad night, the other has enough cold iron to make the fae think twice. Wood stakes and silver bullets and all kinds of weaponry for the supernatural creatures and whatsits.

“Really?”

“We like to be prepared.”

Jeremy is just like ??? because it’s Gavin and that fuck-off huge dog of his and he’s never seen that breed before???

Gavin is like Jeremy, pls, at him as he’s cutting him free of the the ropes binding him to the stone alter (really, what is with these people???) and the dog goes to town.

There’s a lot of screaming and whoever Gavin is, he’s not concerned about it, so uh. Thanks?

Gavin tells Jeremy to stick close while he goes after the leader of this group who had some sort of artifact and he does even though he’s not a hundred percent sure Gavin is a good guy. (But he doesn’t seem like he’s into the human sacrifice side of things, so that’s a point for him in Jeremy’s book.)

There’s this whole chase and standoff scene, but they catch the head baddie and Jeremy even saves Gavin’s life at some point – shoots some asshole trying to sneak up on him. Gavin gives Jeremy this surprised look and this little smile and Jeremy has this little oh no, he’s hot moment that is super inappropriate for the setting so he just shoves that aside for later, because wow, yeah.

In the aftermath Jeremy ends up at the agency with Gavin and meets his partner who’s looking a little rough around the edges, but Ryan seems nice enough. (And not just because he shares the donuts he brought wth him.)

Jeremy sits around for a bit until Geoff wanders in and starts asking him how he figured the bit about the vampire coven and their demon master and so on and Jeremy is just like ???

“What in the ever-loving hell are you talking about?”

He just thought it was a bunch of weirdos or kids who’d seen too many movies and the like and Geoff just stares at him like he’s a fucking idiot for a long, long time.

Goes to the door and yells until Gavin and Ryan show up and they all spend a long time explaining to Jeremy that hey, wow. NOT a bunch of crazy kids, and also, how dumb are you?

Jeremy being ??? and !!! and then

“Wait, I’m what?”

Because, look.

That time he got bitten? The guy was a vampire and how the hell do you not notice that you, too, are a vampire?

“Are you all on crack?”

And Ryan walking Jeremy through the whole Being a Vampire thing that Jeremy never really noticed?

He didn’t go out in the day much because the case he was working that went to hell involved a lot of night surveillance and so on. (Thought he was developing an allergic reaction to garlic, and so on and just all these clues and hints he missed – really loves his rare steaks – and convenient things because reasons.)

Everyone being amazed at how oblivious Jeremy is and Jeremy is like “So, wait. I’m a vampire now?”

Gavin laughing himself sick and Ryan not bothering to hide how amused he is – both at Jeremy’s Jeremy-ess and Geoff’s suffering.

Jeremy gets recruited into their agency – Geoff claims it’s to protect him from his own stupidity, but really, Jeremy wasn’t half bad at being a detective and Gavin and Ryan are willing to work with him which is like a minor miracle.

And the Jeremy realizes the cat he was seeing around was Alfredo who is a shapeshifter - “You’re a and fucking werecat???” and the raven was Trevor “A wereraven? Are you kidding me?” (More like the descendant to a trickster spirit, but sure. That works too.)

Michael’s a magic user and Lindsay is a literal trouble magnet. (More like chaos incarnate, but never leave her and Gavin alone for extended periods of time. EVER.)

Gavin is a medium who can talk to the dead and so on (and sighs at his code name, because Geoff is not funny but, yes, Phantom (lololol)).

Ryan is a werewolf.

“You saw me back in the warehouse? The others frequently make dog jokes and leave dog treats on my desk? How the hell is any of this a secret? (No, really. HOW.)

They gave him the code name Vagabond because he gets prickly over being called a lone wolf and someone thought it was funny. (Geoff.)

Jack is very human and yet no one dares cross him. (Fuck with him, sure, but they always pay for it.

Geoff is…

Look, Geoff is the world’s most long-suffering vampire and one look around at all the assholes he’s in charge of explains that, right.

Jeremy is this baby agent who is also a baby vampire and the agency mostly deals with supernatural cases, but every so often they get your run of the mill cases and Jeremy is like this isn’t so bad? (Also, Gavin is STILL hot and Ryan’s not that bad on the eyes and wacky shenanigans???

#miss-ingo #jerevin #jerevinwood #prompt fills #supernatural agency au #fic i wish you'd write meme #third time around #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #miss-ingno #Replies

[ramberambleramble]

Things I don’t like about myself

I always say I hate attention but I love it.I like to joke about the tragedies in my life.I love it when people feel sorry for me. I love to talk about my problems with other people.  I think by laughing at my pain that others will see me as strong and I’ll get more pity from them. I love pity. I love to be pitied. I tell all my friends the stories of my grandparents dying, my pets getting killed or my family breaking apart, and I don’t want them to forget it so I turn it all into jokes, maybe jokes that they want to hear again. I want my problems to ring in the ears of other people, so they might ask me to tell them again.

“Hey man tell us how your pets died again”

“Ha ha sure thing. It all started with this chihuahua I had way back......”

And there I go for another hour, telling the tales of my losses.

People think I’m funny. I’m not funny, and I don’t care how many people tell me I am.I am not funny. I’m just a leech, I’ve never came up with anything original in my life. I’m incapable of doing so. I can’t create something new I can only take bits and pieces from others and mash them together. It’s disgusting. No I’m not someone you should laugh at. What did the audience ever even hear from me, oh a wacky sound, oh a controversial political opinion in a funny accent. Fuck me. I make myself sick. All I am is a leech, no, less than a leech, I’m just a copy, a mimic. Even a leech has ability all it’s own. Not me. I have no talents, no gifts, and no drive or willpower to develop one. I’m just a lump, a pile of unmolded clay drying in it’s container. I squander my own potential an then have the gall to blog about it like some dramatic little bitch.  Oh how original, airing your problems on tumblr for all the world to see, hoping someone sees it and offers help. What am I even doing. I’m losing steam. I was angry at myself but now I’m just feeling sadness. Just overwhelming sadness. If i wasnt typing right now I’d just be sitting here, in my room doing nothing. Just nothing. I’d just sit in my chair and I’d stare, to sad or unmotivated to sleep, or eat, or do anything fun. I’d just sit here and star and stare and stare.

Found a new sore spot for myself.

I have stories you know, like original stories, and I know that contradicts what I typed above but that was a different me, a different emotion. No i have a story in my mind and I love it. It a sci-fi tale that I’ve been thinking about for the last 6 years at least. I’ve tried so many times to write it down but there’s something wrong with me. I just can’t do it. Whenever I go to write I just lose it, it vanishes from my mind. All gone. That not true, what actually happens is a number of things. I’ll go to write it and suddenly this cool idea just seems so dumb. All my drawings and stories get erased and torn up because after I write or draw something I hate it. i hate everything I make. I hate it all so much it never comes out right. The dialogue is clunky, the plot makes no sense, I an’t figure out what I want to happen.l can’t picture anything in my mind. All i see is black. I don’t even have dreams when I go to sleep. I can’t remember anything, names faces, conversations. I always have this god damn headache. Every single night without fail I just get so sad. i can usually stave it off by talking to a friend over the internet though. It feels so good you know, to hear the voice of someone who understands you. I have a friend who understands me, and they know more about me than anyone else on earth. Not my family, certainly not my parents, my friends knows the real me. The me that I hate. The messed up me. The perverse me who prides himself by how neatly organised his depraved porn collection is, the disgusting me who masturbates to drawings. The pathetic me who is so afraid every body that he’s never had date or even tried to get one.

I am lonely on purpose. I do it to myself because I’m scared.So scared of people. I have friends yeah, but I always feel like some needy puppy when I'm around them. i feel like they dont really like me, even the friend who I said knows everything about me. I feel like I’m a bother to everyone, but that’s just friendships, its worse for love. I’m 19, still young, but I’ve never been on a date, and what’s worse is I’ve never tried to get one. I just don’t know how. how do you just talk to someone you’ve never met before, how do you initiate friendship, how do you initiate romance. I’ve never made friends with people, I always wait for people to make friends with me. I have no idea how to talk to a new person. how do you just walk up someone and talk to them without being creepy. Do compliment them on their clothes? will they think that i was staring at them? Do I try to join in their conversation? Wont that make them think I was eavesdropping? how the fuck do you talk to people? How god damn it? I don’t think I’ve ever started a conversation in my life.

I’m not one for self diagnosis but something is wrong with me. I feel like I’m going crazy. I feel like I Can’t go to anyone with this. They’ll think I’m loony, they’ll put me on watch lists. They’ll think I’m dangerous. i’m not dangerous, I’m just sad. I ruined my chances though of getting help. Let me tell you about that.

This is my absolute greatest pain in life. My parents splitting up, my grandparents dying, all my animals getting killed. None of that matters, if I could stop any of that from happening, I wouldn’t, instead I’d stop what I’m about to tell you from happening. I was going through my mothers box of memories from when my brothers and I were much younger. I found a note from my first grade teacher in a folder about how much she enjoyed having me in class all those years ago. So i thought it would be really cool if I found my teacher on Facebook and sent her the note and caught up with her. I’m very sentimental, I get sad throwing away old pen, so I thought this would be a fantastic way to connect back with someone from my past. but GOD FUCKING DAMNIT DID I FUCK UP. I sent her the note and told her who I was. She was thrilled to get my message and we chatted back and forth for a couple of days and all was good. however, there were a couple of outlying problems, a few confounding variables, you see, sometimes meanings get lost through faceless text conversations. So when I told her “I had a bad memory” Instead of me not being able to remember anything, it was taken as me being a troubled child with a memory of a bad event. Maybe you can see where this is going. Oh but that’s not the worst part by any means at all. When I tell you this next thing your going to think I’m the dumbest piece of shit to ever walk the planet. you're going to wonder how I even survive. Holy shit its so bad. Ok, I have a poor memory, I can’t remember a dang thang. What I failed to mention, and I know you don’t like this word, is that I am FUCKING RETARDED. I wanted this teacher to supply me with something to help me jog my memory of this school hadn’t gone to in over 10 years. So in my infinite fucking wisdom, I asked her to take a picture of a map of the school and send it to me. So if  I told you that a possibly troubled kid just randomly sent a messaged out of the blue asking for a a teacher for map to a school he hasn't been to in over 10 years, what do you think that means? Well, to people unlike myself, who have normal functioning brains, that sounds like a guy who want to come and shoot up an elementary school.So I got some calls from some police departments, got some calls from my family, left work, cried a bunch, beat myself up and stopped using Facebook. The greatest pain I’ve ever experienced in my life was, and is, the pain of knowing that my idiocy, and my bumbling, caused people out there to feel unsafe. It hurts so bad knowing that my stupidity killed the peace of mind of others. I’m so sorry. I have a fear now, you know? i’m paranoid, I think It’ll happen again. i’ll open my mouth and hurt somebody. So ever since then, I don’t talk to people as much. I go to work, don’t speak unless spoken to. Go to class, don’t speak unless spoken to. Visit family, don’t speak unless spoken to.

I’m not having a good time, but, I don’t know. Could be worse.

now I’m going to put some tags on this wall of text because I want people to read this.

#self #self help #help #writing #wall of text

[jaxxonpollux]

notes for vivien during her leave of absence v2

“how’s mammon crossing over, you half-breed piece of shit?”

sorry, i’m watching constantine right now and keanu reeves just said that. it smacks of our old fave “hey pee brain, can you teleport?” this is a hilarious movie! now he’s punching a devil guy in a suit using gold brass knuckles with little crosses etched into them.

again, i’m writing this for you because, well, i’ve got nothing left to do. it has been 15 days since i’ve heard from you, and apparently i’m the kind of person who cannot handle that kind of thing. it’s not as bad as it was the last time, when you were in the hospital, because now i just assume you’re in the hospital. which is horrible! i want to know your room number so i can come see you! i have the day off tomorrow, i could do it. i hate being in the dark, i just wish i had something to grasp onto. and i really do hope you’re ok and come back. i hope you didn’t hurt yourself. that’s my main worry, i didn’t do enough to prevent that, i desperately wanted you to come to me if you ever felt depressed enough to do anything. i hope nothing sent you over the edge. i hope b isn’t making things hard and miserable. and, selfishly, i hope that if you’re not talking to me, you’re not talking to anyone else either. as ugly as that sounds. i always have that gnawing in the back of my head, that i’m the only one that’s being blocked out, i did something wrong, i’m not good enough, blah blah, you have all new secret facebooks and instagrams and tumblrs that specifically avoid me. just typing that makes me feel and sound like a crazy person! you’ve told me about guys that used to be crazy over you before, like that kid in ireland who would cut off his fingers and send them to you in the mail or whatever. i mean, he had his own whole set of problems, but i wonder if this is the kind of thing that makes dudes crazy for you? just stewing in their own heads like this

i promise i won’t do anything crazy. i’m patience incarnate. i’m here when you need me. i’m not an obsessed boyfriend. i’ll be ready when you come back, if you ever come back. i’ll probably move on if lightning strikes me again, but that doesn’t happen very often. i’ll always care for you in a platonic sense, even if i’m married with 10 kids or addicted to crack cocaine out on the streets or whatever. even if i don’t talk to you again for another 10 years. 20 years. we’ve always been on this weird twin flame cycle anyway, like we happened to come into contact right when our lives were the same! and now the planets are quietly drifting out of alignment again and we’re in different places. that’s ok. i’m still here and i’ll still grow, even if i sorely miss you.

one crazy thing: i did have a weird experience with what i thought of as “your ghost,” or your energy, something along those lines. i really hope it isn’t a pisces intuition thing. i was lying in bed in the dark about five days ago, and i felt like you were there, wrapping your arms around me from behind. i could feel you and smell you, i remembered the way your bones and your breasts felt. it was like an echo. and it wasn’t a dream; it was like a shiver. that’s why i was worried it was you in ghost form, giving a hug farewell. i really hope you aren’t dead. you should have at least written me a fucking note if you’re going to be dead.

had a similar feeling the other night too, but i think it was just a very realistic sex dream, like something that gets pulled back up out of your subconscious. it’s weird how memories work that way in dreams sometimes. and then i was at work yesterday...um scooping muffin batter, i think, and i kept seeing a shadow out of the corner of my eye, and i thought “gasp, it’s vivien! trying to communicate through the astral plane!” but then i thought maybe it was just a mouse. then i thought it was just my reflection on some metal bars. this was after a long series of days of getting little to no sleep every night, so my brain was ready to go just about anywhere.

but i have been working a ton. a lot of 12+ hour days. a lot of naps. i’ve been meaning to write something like this for like a week actually, but i never got around to it. i’d constantly think of something or see something i’d want to share with you, but i’m getting sick of texting you and giving you a backlog of disjointed garbage to read, i don’t think you like that kind of thing. it’s hard to share things with someone when you’re not sure if you’re being purposefully ignored or whatever. like, i don’t want to come off as a complete fool. so a lot of vivien thoughts come and go. but every day at like, 5am, when i would be walking into work, i’d write a mental list of all the things i would tell you. dumb things, like dreams i’d have. billboards. i even got into the habit of writing in my iphone notes like you do. let’s see what i have there actually...

“michael kors bought versace for 2.1 bil”

just thought it was wacky, like a faux high end brand purchasing an actual high end brand. or maybe they’re both the same. i mean, clearly they are now

“dream about my dad strangling my old baking teacher, only to have her revive”

i actually remember this one a little bit. i was living at my old dad’s house, and found my pastry teacher dead under his bed (which is already ridiculous because he sleeps in a waterbed but anyway). when i inquired, he was sort of flippant, like “oh yeah, i woke up from a nightmare in sort of a haze and just ended up strangling her.” and my reaction to this news was like, extremely furious, like i was yelling and throwing things and saying things like “YOU CAN’T LIVE HERE” and i eventually banished him from the house, feeling very vindicated about it too. “taking out the trash,” as it were. anyway, the next day i was “getting off the schoolbus,” and i saw my pastry teacher alive and well, corralling a bunch of students. which led me to think that she was undead, like a vampire or something. then i woke up

see, i don’t know why i want to share things like this with you. usually when people tell me about their really convoluted dreams like this, i just kind of zone out. victoria has a lot of boring dreams like this, ones that don’t have anything to do with anything, they just reflect like, social anxiety or something. 

“man with man bun and skydiver clothes in wheelchair talking angrily on the phone with a trombone in his lap”

this is actually a guy i saw like, an hour ago when i was down on campus getting food for my mom and myself. i believe he’s what the tumblr kids would call “chaotic energy.” i don’t remember what he was talking about, on the phone. something about not being able to work at the tollbooth. or parking garage. shrug.

i can’t think of anything else i wanted to tell you. a lot of things have come and gone that are just stale by now. erased from my morning vivien diary. like we had a few dinners for a group called “the lions” last weekend, which is one of those clubs or guilds or whatever, like the masons. it’s just a lot of sourpuss old men, at least from the perspective of a food service professional. people complaining that they got the vegan cookie desserts instead of the Lovingly Prepared disgusting sugar free brownies i spent two days preparing, either because they sat at the wrong table, or because the idiot temp servers we hire don’t understand what dietary restriction means. then before you know it, you’re in hour 13 of the day, piling up plates full of caramel corn because for whatever reason ten tables didn’t get any desserts at all. as one girl i work with is known to say, “i don’t have answers, brian.”

i’ll write more in here as things come to me. i’ll make a concerted effort now that i have it started, anyway. i’m sure your life has still been moving on, which is good, given that you’re not hospitalized or dead! like i’m sure you’re making plans to get your stuff back from new york, live with that ogre marxist guy for a few days, yada yada. i feel bad for being upset with you that time you asked for money. i don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me for things. i’m just...always wary of pitfalls. i wanted you to really love me, and i really didn’t want to be another guy story for the next guy. that’s just how it happens, though,  huh?

i do think about that too, way back when you told me b was using you a lot in his writing, in his stories, making characters based off of you, borrowing your experiences and such. or early on when i’d ask you to tell me about guys you’d been with, and then you’d tell me a story and in my head i’d have the guy all sorted out. like i wouldn’t know them personally, but i’d know like, what they’re about, and i’d just wrap them all up in a neat tidy package. like a chapter in a book. i hope you never tell anyone else about me, after you’ve moved on and have me all figured out. i try to avoid that kind of thing when people ask about you, i’m very vague, or find a way to drop the subject. victoria is always so frustrated because she doesn’t have anything to ridicule you about when she’s jealous, she just knows i spend a lot of time with you and i’m very defensive when it comes to talking about your character or your personality. 

it’s gonna be a tough day if i ever have to put you into a box for a girlfriend down the road, i honestly don’t know how i’ll describe you. in a way that depicts The Way We Are With Each Other, i mean. like, the details just add up in really zany ways “well, she was married to this guy in new york and had just gotten out of the loony bin when we started talking, but i knew her from this stupid website called tumblr, we talked a lot about like, dolphin handjobs and donald trump and such, oh she really liked britcoms and thought i was callous, she read my palm in a hotel room once and she was very pretty with big blue eyes and kind of walked like she was falling forward, she’s the reason why i drink wine and she was supposed to give me a tattoo but we never found the time, anyway she’s dead now, tell me about yourself!” i’ll do my best to omit you, i think. it’s probably what you’d want, just like how i’d want for myself. god, why do i keep talking like you’re dead? please don’t be dead!!! i hope you’re back for halloween at the least, i always imagined that that’s when you are at your very best

to be continued, probably