#guns of glory resources

[onereallygoodlambonastick]

.

#i get that theyre scared but im so tired of family members saying they want more guns n more shooters sent to prison n see how they like it #every time i hear anybody close to me speak up about this i get geniunely so drained. no boundaries to speak of rn. and still i want to #pipe up and mention that maybeee consider not that. but i realize even that one intervention of a 1sided convo will not get them to wake up #it takes a process. it takes slow and long. #and i know i have a responsibility to intervene when possible. but like rn? im exhausted and miserable and not resourced enough to take care #of myself and these other people at the same time. they really are out here hushing each other whenever they talk ''political'' in fear ill #keen over and die from the additional mental strain as if i dont think about these things on the daily #idk the ppl surrounding me are so intolerable to me rn. at least a function of that is how much im intolerable to myself and how shaken i am #mentally spiritually emotionally intellectually. whatever #im so tired of being a women like how they think a woman or a man should be. im so tired that im just sucking it all up and unable to #turn it into direction towards more useful ends. now it just sinks to the pit of me and stays congealed and im stuck. im stuck. im stuck! #i miss being in a place where i could see all this and move forward anyways without getting knocked out of alignment. #it rly feels like rn im crushed into either a fetal position spiritually or on my hands trying to howl toothlessly and w/o clarity #i have so much trouble trying to stay in my body and letting myself talk shit. any kinda shit. im starting debates im getting run down im #getting mired in the pointlessness of being right or being better or being more correct than ever. im starting shit i dont have to in the #name of glory or betterment. and directly tied to this is getting so mired up in the guild and dread and panic of proving and being a talksp #erson #i get threatened much more easily and i get intimidated much more easily. i try to take up as little space as possible. as if doing so will #actually do something to help me breathe. what a joke! #what a default state return to patterned meanness. sorry. im trying to collect myself and step down without hurting myself. #it doesnt feel like im moving at all from where im at but im probably crawling. im probably inching myself along. #keep making room for being watched though. i feel like im being watched. i keep thinking im letting down all the people ive talked to b4 abt #such things. i wonder if they would sneer at me? i keep looking towards how i was few months ago when i had more energy/presence/okayness #and i miss having fun. i miss the knowing that we would be okay we would figure it out as we figure it out #i miss not falling into the trap of proving myself to ppl and if i did to climb back out. #rn if its not flattened and a distant dissociated state im generally embarassed to exist. to speak. to know its never now/never. #i miss knowing and believing concretely that there are people many people doing this work who are thinking hard and doing hard things #and offering contempt to myself is like condemning myself to burn out farther and farther and the best i can do rn to counter that is #acknowledging i have indeed done the bare minimum; which is wise. #acknowledging i have indeed thought ill and i can follow that up w a bringing back to an acknowledgement of my efforts.

[whyanne4]

Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 1/?

Word Count: 3k

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Masterlist

The smell of the sea reached your nostrils as you strolled along the harbor of Monaco. You couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight and couldn’t believe your luck that you got to move to a place like this. You’d just gotten accepted to the university of Monaco and moved into your little apartment right outside the beautiful country mere hours ago. The yachts that decorated the water were like out of a dream and you felt yourself daydream about owning one sometime in the distant future.

The hours went by and you decided that you would walk back to your apartment before it got too dark. You took your phone out of your purse only to find it dead. 

“Damn it!” You swore as you shoved your phone back in your bag. How were you supposed to find your apartment now? You had forgotten the address and your plan of just opening the pinned location on google maps won’t work now. 

‘How hard can it be?’ You thought to yourself as you decided to try and find your way home based on memory. The streets of Monaco were hard to navigate and you found yourself completely lost. You took a left turn, hoping for the best. You walked quietly along the street when you heard a man raise his voice followed by what sounded like more men arguing. 

You tried to make yourself ready to run in case the men were a threat. You decided  that continuing to walk to get yourself away from the situation was the best choice. The fact that your phone was dead weighed heavily on your mind. If the men were to attack you’d have no way of alerting anyone. 

The voices got louder as you walked and when you turned the corner you saw four men arguing. It looked like it was serious based on their tense stances, ready to fight. 

“Fuck you Leclerc. You think you’re so fucking powerful just because you inherited the biggest mob of Monaco and France from daddy huh? Well guess what? Daddy isn’t here anymore” The first man said as he and his friends cornered this “Leclerc” guy. You resisted the urge to gasp, not wanting to make a sound. This was the mafia. If anyone knew you were here you’d be in big trouble.

“You think I’m scared of you Bassett? I have more money and resources then you could ever dream of. And not to mention balls. Cornering me with two other men as I leave the casino is not what I would consider brave” The second man spoke arrogantly even if it was clear that he was at a disadvantage seeing as they were three against one. 

“I don’t need balls to do this.” You wondered what he ment but your questions were soon answered as you heard the click of a gun.

“You’re a fucking pussy you know that right?” Leclerc spoke, still calm as ever. “You owe me millions and instead of paying me back you’re going to shoot me? You know, it sounds to me as if you’re not as rich as you claim to be Mr. Bassett."  You didn't have the time to process his words before four gunshots were heard and three bodies fell to the ground. 

You yelped, you didn’t mean to but you couldn’t help it, the gunshots took you by surprise.

“Who’s there?” The man, Leclerc, was still standing above the three corpses and he was looking right into your eyes. His intense stare sent shivers up your spine. He started to walk towards you with determined steps.

‘So this is how I die?’ You think to yourself as he approaches you. You close your eyes, ready to feel the pain of a bullet but before you feel anything you hear the man collapse. You open your eyes and look at him, he’s on one knee, branching himself against the wall to stay upright. As you look closely you see a pool of red blood form on his white button up shirt. You watch in horror as it grows, a bullet must’ve hit him. Despite how afraid of this man you were you couldn’t let him die here.

“Are you okay sir? You asked quietly as you slowly approached him. The only response you got was a groan. You knelt beside him and took off your cardigan and pressed it to the wound. 

“Okay I think you need to lay down on your back.” You told him as you felt him become unstable. He did as you told him to and groaned when he had to move but didn’t complain. You reached for your phone to call an ambulance but remembered that it didn’t have any charge left.  “Do you have a phone? I need to call the ambulance” You asked the brunette in front of you. 

“Front left pocket.” He grumbled and you reached into his pocket. You quickly called the ambulance who told you that they were on their way and told you to keep him conscious and to keep pressure on the wound.

“So I have to keep you awake.” You started talking with him, deciding that it was the best way to keep him from blacking out. “Um… I’m Y/N.” You said, not having any idea of what to talk about.

“Charles” He said in a raspy voice.

‘Damn he’s kinda hot’ you thought as you got a closer look of him, his piercing green eyes looking into yours made your mind all fuzzy. ‘Fuck, Y/N concentrate’ you snapped out of your trance to focus on the task at hand.

“Um… so you want to tell me what just happened?” You ask him to try and get him to continue talking. It was probably a stupid question because if he was really in the mafia he wouldn’t tell you, a random girl, about it.

But it seemed as if bleeding out loosened his lips because he told you everything. How the leader of another mod owed him millions of euros and refused to pay him back. Instead cornered him after a night out.

Charles winced in pain as he continued to speak, his voice strained but determined. "You see, Y/N, this city might look like a paradise on the surface, but beneath it all, there's a constant power struggle. My family has been deeply involved in this world for generations, and sometimes, conflicts like these are inevitable."

You listened intently, both to his words and to the distant sound of approaching sirens. Time was of the essence, and you had to keep him conscious until help arrived.

Charles took shallow breaths, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a brave one, you know that? Most people would have run away screaming. But you stayed and helped me. Why?"

You shrugged, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through you. "I couldn't just leave you here," you replied, pressing the cardigan against his wound a little firmer. "We're all human, right?" You tried to lighten the mood by sending him a reassuring smile.

He nodded in agreement, wincing at the pain. "You have a kind heart, Y/N. I've seen too much darkness in this world."

“Try not to move” You put your free hand on his forehead and gently laid his head back onto the ground.  

As you continued to apply pressure to his wound, Charles delved deeper into the complexities of his life. He talked about the struggles of maintaining power in a world where alliances were fragile, trust was scarce, and violence was always lurking in the shadows.

Sirens grew closer, their wailing an urgent reminder of the impending arrival of help. You could hear the paramedics getting closer.

Charles managed a faint smile, his green eyes softer now. "You, Y/N, might have just saved my life. And that's no small feat in this world. I owe you a debt of gratitude."

You chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I hope you recover quickly. And maybe consider... finding a less dangerous line of work?"

Charles chuckled, though it quickly turned into a cough, and he winced. "I wish it were that simple, Y/N. But in my world, things are never straightforward."

As the paramedics arrived and took over, you stepped back to give them space, watching as they worked swiftly to stabilize Charles. He was whisked away on a stretcher, disappearing into the back of the ambulance.

One of the paramedics approached you, asking for your account of what happened. You recounted the events as best as you could, leaving out the more sensitive details about Charles's life. You didn't want to be involved any more deeply than you already were.

After the ambulance sped away, you were left standing there, alone on the dimly lit street. The adrenaline began to fade, and the reality of your situation hit you. You were still lost in an unfamiliar city, and now, you had a surreal encounter with the local mafia to add to your list of experiences.

With a sigh, you decided to try and find your way back to your apartment once more, this time determined to ask for directions if needed. You couldn't help but replay the events in your mind as you walked. Monaco had revealed a darker side to itself, one you never expected when you first arrived in this glamorous city.

Little did you know that your chance encounter with Charles Leclerc would set in motion a series of events that would entangle you further in the secrets and intrigues of Monaco, a world far removed from the idyllic facade it presented to the world.

Two months later you find yourself getting ready for a charity event for the university. From your understanding, some very influential business owner was hosting this gala in order to bring more funding to the school. You, alongside 24 other students, had been selected to attend this event. 

‘I really hate to mingle.’ You think as you exit the cab in your floor length blue dress. 

The night air was cool and carried a salty tang as you stepped out of the cab, the lights of the venue beckoning you. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the mingling and socializing you were about to endure. It wasn't your favorite activity, but you knew it was necessary, an invaluable opportunity to network with some of Monaco’s elite.

As you entered the venue, the opulence of the event struck you. The ceilings were adorned with crystal chandeliers, the walls draped in luxurious fabrics, and there was an air of sophistication that seemed to hang in the atmosphere. It was clear that this was a gathering of the wealthy and influential.

You began to navigate the room, attempting to strike up conversations with various attendees. Many were donors or businesspeople, keen on discussing their ventures and achievements. While you were polite and engaged in the discussions, your mind kept drifting back to that fateful night with Charles and the encounter with the mafia.

It was a blurry line between the glamorous facade of Monaco's elite and the hidden, dangerous world that lurked in its shadows. You wondered how many of these seemingly respectable individuals were involved in the kind of underworld you had witnessed that night.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, a familiar voice broke through. "Hello beautiful”

Startled, you turned to see none other than Charles Leclerc standing before you, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. He offered you a polite smile, his earlier wounds seemingly healed, at least physically. The surprise of seeing him here, at this event, momentarily left you speechless.

"Hi," you managed to reply despite your initial shock, a little flustered as you offered him a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here," you spoke, attempting to break the ice.

"I would say the same about you but then I’d be lying" Charles remarked, his eyes probing yet gentle. "I hosted this event to find you. You've been on my mind since that night."

“You’re the host?” You exclaimed, eyes wide at this knowledge. “Why?”

“As I said. You’ve been on my mind every day for the last two months.” He admitted, his gaze was intense as he searched your eyes for a reaction.

“How did you know where I go to school? All you knew was my first name” You questioned him.

“I have my ways” He said nonchalantly.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—surprise, curiosity, and a lingering unease. Charles Leclerc, the enigmatic figure you had encountered that fateful night, had hosted this prestigious event specifically to find you. It was a revelation that left you both intrigued and cautious.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you again after that night," you confessed, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. "And hosting this event to find me? That's quite... unusual."

Charles chuckled softly, his charm as captivating as ever. "Unusual, perhaps, but when something captures my attention, I tend to pursue it relentlessly. And you, Y/N, have captured my attention in a way I can't quite explain."

You weren't sure how to respond to his admission. It felt like there were layers to Charles Leclerc that you had yet to uncover, and being in this elegant setting with him only added to the intrigue. Despite the initial danger and the circumstances of your first meeting, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you.

"So, what do you want from me, Charles?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You couldn't help but feel that there was more to this encounter than met the eye.

Charles leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper amidst the chatter of the gala. "I want to get to know you, Y/N. Beyond the chaos of that night and the secrets we both carry. I want to understand the woman who stayed by my side when others would have fled. And," he added with a wry smile, "I'd like you to consider giving me a chance to show you a different side of me, one that doesn't always dwell in the shadows."

His words hung in the air, laden with both mystery and sincerity. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on you, nor could you ignore the curiosity that had driven you to seek answers about the darker side of this city.

"I'll admit, Charles, you've managed to pique my curiosity," you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not one to rush into things, especially when the circumstances are so… chaotic."

Charles nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I understand. Take your time. Just know that I'm not one to give up easily when I want something."

“I figured” You can’t help but chuckle. “I mean you hosted this event just to talk to me”

“Oh darling, you haven’t seen half of the things I can do if I put my mind to something” His voice was playful but you had a feeling that he was in fact not joking.

You found yourself both intrigued and cautious about the enigmatic man before you. Charles Leclerc's world was undoubtedly complex and filled with danger, yet there was an undeniable allure in his presence. The mingling crowd and the opulent setting seemed to fade into the background as the two of you continued your conversation.

As the night wore on, Charles shared more about his life, the intricacies of the power struggles in Monaco, and the delicate balance he had to maintain within the world he inhabited. He spoke of his family's history and the responsibilities that came with their name, all while maintaining an air of charm and charisma that was impossible to resist.

You, in turn, shared your own story, your dreams and aspirations, and the reasons you had come to Monaco in the first place. The more you talked, the more you realized how different your worlds were, yet there was an undeniable connection between you, a spark that refused to be extinguished.

As the gala continued, you couldn't help but wonder if this chance encounter with Charles was meant to be more than just a twist of fate. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and despite the chaos and danger that had initially brought you together, you felt a growing curiosity about the man who had hosted this event just to find you.

The evening came to a close, and Charles walked you to your cab, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. "I hope you consider my offer, Y/N," he said as he opened the cab door for you. "I promise you, there's much more to discover about both Monaco and me."

You nodded, still cautious but undeniably intrigued. "I'll keep that in mind, Charles. But for now, I have a lot to process."

Charles leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Take your time," he whispered before placing a gentle, lingering kiss on your cheek. "Until we meet again."

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the night, you couldn't help but wonder if your path had just taken an unexpected turn into a world of secrets, intrigue, and a love story unlike any other. Monaco had revealed its hidden depths, and you were about to dive headfirst into the depths of the unknown, with Charles Leclerc as your guide.

The cab pulled away, leaving the gala behind, but the memory of that night lingered in your mind. You knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but you couldn't deny the thrill of the journey that lay ahead.

As the city of Monaco glimmered in the distance, you couldn't help but feel that your life had just taken a thrilling and dangerous turn, and you were ready to embrace the adventure, no matter where it might lead.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #mafia au #Charles Leclerc Mafia #Charles Leclerc Mafia au #mafia! charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic

[why4anne]

Money Power Glory

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Category: Mafia! au

Part: 1/?

Word Count: 3k

Summary: When you accidentally found yourself in the middle of a mafia show down you had no idea that your life was about to change, forever. For better or for worse.

Masterlist

The smell of the sea reached your nostrils as you strolled along the harbor of Monaco. You couldn’t help but feel amazed at the sight and couldn’t believe your luck that you got to move to a place like this. You’d just gotten accepted to the university of Monaco and moved into your little apartment right outside the beautiful country mere hours ago. The yachts that decorated the water were like out of a dream and you felt yourself daydream about owning one sometime in the distant future.

The hours went by and you decided that you would walk back to your apartment before it got too dark. You took your phone out of your purse only to find it dead. 

“Damn it!” You swore as you shoved your phone back in your bag. How were you supposed to find your apartment now? You had forgotten the address and your plan of just opening the pinned location on google maps won’t work now. 

‘How hard can it be?’ You thought to yourself as you decided to try and find your way home based on memory. The streets of Monaco were hard to navigate and you found yourself completely lost. You took a left turn, hoping for the best. You walked quietly along the street when you heard a man raise his voice followed by what sounded like more men arguing. 

You tried to make yourself ready to run in case the men were a threat. You decided  that continuing to walk to get yourself away from the situation was the best choice. The fact that your phone was dead weighed heavily on your mind. If the men were to attack you’d have no way of alerting anyone. 

The voices got louder as you walked and when you turned the corner you saw four men arguing. It looked like it was serious based on their tense stances, ready to fight. 

“Fuck you Leclerc. You think you’re so fucking powerful just because you inherited the biggest mob of Monaco and France from daddy huh? Well guess what? Daddy isn’t here anymore” The first man said as he and his friends cornered this “Leclerc” guy. You resisted the urge to gasp, not wanting to make a sound. This was the mafia. If anyone knew you were here you’d be in big trouble.

“You think I’m scared of you Bassett? I have more money and resources then you could ever dream of. And not to mention balls. Cornering me with two other men as I leave the casino is not what I would consider brave” The second man spoke arrogantly even if it was clear that he was at a disadvantage seeing as they were three against one. 

“I don’t need balls to do this.” You wondered what he ment but your questions were soon answered as you heard the click of a gun.

“You’re a fucking pussy you know that right?” Leclerc spoke, still calm as ever. “You owe me millions and instead of paying me back you’re going to shoot me? You know, it sounds to me as if you’re not as rich as you claim to be Mr. Bassett."  You didn't have the time to process his words before four gunshots were heard and three bodies fell to the ground. 

You yelped, you didn’t mean to but you couldn’t help it, the gunshots took you by surprise.

“Who’s there?” The man, Leclerc, was still standing above the three corpses and he was looking right into your eyes. His intense stare sent shivers up your spine. He started to walk towards you with determined steps.

‘So this is how I die?’ You think to yourself as he approaches you. You close your eyes, ready to feel the pain of a bullet but before you feel anything you hear the man collapse. You open your eyes and look at him, he’s on one knee, branching himself against the wall to stay upright. As you look closely you see a pool of red blood form on his white button up shirt. You watch in horror as it grows, a bullet must’ve hit him. Despite how afraid of this man you were you couldn’t let him die here.

“Are you okay sir? You asked quietly as you slowly approached him. The only response you got was a groan. You knelt beside him and took off your cardigan and pressed it to the wound. 

“Okay I think you need to lay down on your back.” You told him as you felt him become unstable. He did as you told him to and groaned when he had to move but didn’t complain. You reached for your phone to call an ambulance but remembered that it didn’t have any charge left.  “Do you have a phone? I need to call the ambulance” You asked the brunette in front of you. 

“Front left pocket.” He grumbled and you reached into his pocket. You quickly called the ambulance who told you that they were on their way and told you to keep him conscious and to keep pressure on the wound.

“So I have to keep you awake.” You started talking with him, deciding that it was the best way to keep him from blacking out. “Um… I’m Y/N.” You said, not having any idea of what to talk about.

“Charles” He said in a raspy voice.

‘Damn he’s kinda hot’ you thought as you got a closer look of him, his piercing green eyes looking into yours made your mind all fuzzy. ‘Fuck, Y/N concentrate’ you snapped out of your trance to focus on the task at hand.

“Um… so you want to tell me what just happened?” You ask him to try and get him to continue talking. It was probably a stupid question because if he was really in the mafia he wouldn’t tell you, a random girl, about it.

But it seemed as if bleeding out loosened his lips because he told you everything. How the leader of another mod owed him millions of euros and refused to pay him back. Instead cornered him after a night out.

Charles winced in pain as he continued to speak, his voice strained but determined. "You see, Y/N, this city might look like a paradise on the surface, but beneath it all, there's a constant power struggle. My family has been deeply involved in this world for generations, and sometimes, conflicts like these are inevitable."

You listened intently, both to his words and to the distant sound of approaching sirens. Time was of the essence, and you had to keep him conscious until help arrived.

Charles took shallow breaths, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're a brave one, you know that? Most people would have run away screaming. But you stayed and helped me. Why?"

You shrugged, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through you. "I couldn't just leave you here," you replied, pressing the cardigan against his wound a little firmer. "We're all human, right?" You tried to lighten the mood by sending him a reassuring smile.

He nodded in agreement, wincing at the pain. "You have a kind heart, Y/N. I've seen too much darkness in this world."

“Try not to move” You put your free hand on his forehead and gently laid his head back onto the ground.  

As you continued to apply pressure to his wound, Charles delved deeper into the complexities of his life. He talked about the struggles of maintaining power in a world where alliances were fragile, trust was scarce, and violence was always lurking in the shadows.

Sirens grew closer, their wailing an urgent reminder of the impending arrival of help. You could hear the paramedics getting closer.

Charles managed a faint smile, his green eyes softer now. "You, Y/N, might have just saved my life. And that's no small feat in this world. I owe you a debt of gratitude."

You chuckled nervously, unsure of how to respond. "Well, I hope you recover quickly. And maybe consider... finding a less dangerous line of work?"

Charles chuckled, though it quickly turned into a cough, and he winced. "I wish it were that simple, Y/N. But in my world, things are never straightforward."

As the paramedics arrived and took over, you stepped back to give them space, watching as they worked swiftly to stabilize Charles. He was whisked away on a stretcher, disappearing into the back of the ambulance.

One of the paramedics approached you, asking for your account of what happened. You recounted the events as best as you could, leaving out the more sensitive details about Charles's life. You didn't want to be involved any more deeply than you already were.

After the ambulance sped away, you were left standing there, alone on the dimly lit street. The adrenaline began to fade, and the reality of your situation hit you. You were still lost in an unfamiliar city, and now, you had a surreal encounter with the local mafia to add to your list of experiences.

With a sigh, you decided to try and find your way back to your apartment once more, this time determined to ask for directions if needed. You couldn't help but replay the events in your mind as you walked. Monaco had revealed a darker side to itself, one you never expected when you first arrived in this glamorous city.

Little did you know that your chance encounter with Charles Leclerc would set in motion a series of events that would entangle you further in the secrets and intrigues of Monaco, a world far removed from the idyllic facade it presented to the world.

Two months later you find yourself getting ready for a charity event for the university. From your understanding, some very influential business owner was hosting this gala in order to bring more funding to the school. You, alongside 24 other students, had been selected to attend this event. 

‘I really hate to mingle.’ You think as you exit the cab in your floor length blue dress. 

The night air was cool and carried a salty tang as you stepped out of the cab, the lights of the venue beckoning you. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the mingling and socializing you were about to endure. It wasn't your favorite activity, but you knew it was necessary, an invaluable opportunity to network with some of Monaco’s elite.

As you entered the venue, the opulence of the event struck you. The ceilings were adorned with crystal chandeliers, the walls draped in luxurious fabrics, and there was an air of sophistication that seemed to hang in the atmosphere. It was clear that this was a gathering of the wealthy and influential.

You began to navigate the room, attempting to strike up conversations with various attendees. Many were donors or businesspeople, keen on discussing their ventures and achievements. While you were polite and engaged in the discussions, your mind kept drifting back to that fateful night with Charles and the encounter with the mafia.

It was a blurry line between the glamorous facade of Monaco's elite and the hidden, dangerous world that lurked in its shadows. You wondered how many of these seemingly respectable individuals were involved in the kind of underworld you had witnessed that night.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, a familiar voice broke through. "Hello beautiful”

Startled, you turned to see none other than Charles Leclerc standing before you, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit. He offered you a polite smile, his earlier wounds seemingly healed, at least physically. The surprise of seeing him here, at this event, momentarily left you speechless.

"Hi," you managed to reply despite your initial shock, a little flustered as you offered him a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here," you spoke, attempting to break the ice.

"I would say the same about you but then I’d be lying" Charles remarked, his eyes probing yet gentle. "I hosted this event to find you. You've been on my mind since that night."

“You’re the host?” You exclaimed, eyes wide at this knowledge. “Why?”

“As I said. You’ve been on my mind every day for the last two months.” He admitted, his gaze was intense as he searched your eyes for a reaction.

“How did you know where I go to school? All you knew was my first name” You questioned him.

“I have my ways” He said nonchalantly.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—surprise, curiosity, and a lingering unease. Charles Leclerc, the enigmatic figure you had encountered that fateful night, had hosted this prestigious event specifically to find you. It was a revelation that left you both intrigued and cautious.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you again after that night," you confessed, still trying to wrap your head around the situation. "And hosting this event to find me? That's quite... unusual."

Charles chuckled softly, his charm as captivating as ever. "Unusual, perhaps, but when something captures my attention, I tend to pursue it relentlessly. And you, Y/N, have captured my attention in a way I can't quite explain."

You weren't sure how to respond to his admission. It felt like there were layers to Charles Leclerc that you had yet to uncover, and being in this elegant setting with him only added to the intrigue. Despite the initial danger and the circumstances of your first meeting, there was an undeniable pull between the two of you.

"So, what do you want from me, Charles?" you asked, choosing your words carefully. You couldn't help but feel that there was more to this encounter than met the eye.

Charles leaned in slightly, his voice a low whisper amidst the chatter of the gala. "I want to get to know you, Y/N. Beyond the chaos of that night and the secrets we both carry. I want to understand the woman who stayed by my side when others would have fled. And," he added with a wry smile, "I'd like you to consider giving me a chance to show you a different side of me, one that doesn't always dwell in the shadows."

His words hung in the air, laden with both mystery and sincerity. You couldn't deny the magnetic pull he had on you, nor could you ignore the curiosity that had driven you to seek answers about the darker side of this city.

"I'll admit, Charles, you've managed to pique my curiosity," you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "But I'm not one to rush into things, especially when the circumstances are so… chaotic."

Charles nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I understand. Take your time. Just know that I'm not one to give up easily when I want something."

“I figured” You can’t help but chuckle. “I mean you hosted this event just to talk to me”

“Oh darling, you haven’t seen half of the things I can do if I put my mind to something” His voice was playful but you had a feeling that he was in fact not joking.

You found yourself both intrigued and cautious about the enigmatic man before you. Charles Leclerc's world was undoubtedly complex and filled with danger, yet there was an undeniable allure in his presence. The mingling crowd and the opulent setting seemed to fade into the background as the two of you continued your conversation.

As the night wore on, Charles shared more about his life, the intricacies of the power struggles in Monaco, and the delicate balance he had to maintain within the world he inhabited. He spoke of his family's history and the responsibilities that came with their name, all while maintaining an air of charm and charisma that was impossible to resist.

You, in turn, shared your own story, your dreams and aspirations, and the reasons you had come to Monaco in the first place. The more you talked, the more you realized how different your worlds were, yet there was an undeniable connection between you, a spark that refused to be extinguished.

As the gala continued, you couldn't help but wonder if this chance encounter with Charles was meant to be more than just a twist of fate. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and despite the chaos and danger that had initially brought you together, you felt a growing curiosity about the man who had hosted this event just to find you.

The evening came to a close, and Charles walked you to your cab, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. "I hope you consider my offer, Y/N," he said as he opened the cab door for you. "I promise you, there's much more to discover about both Monaco and me."

You nodded, still cautious but undeniably intrigued. "I'll keep that in mind, Charles. But for now, I have a lot to process."

Charles leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. "Take your time," he whispered before placing a gentle, lingering kiss on your cheek. "Until we meet again."

As you watched him walk away, disappearing into the night, you couldn't help but wonder if your path had just taken an unexpected turn into a world of secrets, intrigue, and a love story unlike any other. Monaco had revealed its hidden depths, and you were about to dive headfirst into the depths of the unknown, with Charles Leclerc as your guide.

The cab pulled away, leaving the gala behind, but the memory of that night lingered in your mind. You knew that the road ahead would be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but you couldn't deny the thrill of the journey that lay ahead.

As the city of Monaco glimmered in the distance, you couldn't help but feel that your life had just taken a thrilling and dangerous turn, and you were ready to embrace the adventure, no matter where it might lead.

#charles leclerc x reader #money power glory au! #charles leclerc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #mafia au #Charles Leclerc Mafia #Charles Leclerc Mafia au #mafia! charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic

[slocumjoe]

A ramble about Preston Garvey and a self-indulgent revision of the entire Minuteman questline

TDLR: The Minutemen faction sacrifices writing and Preston’s character as a means of shoveling errands and busywork at the player.

Preston’s issues as a character are entirely Doylist, meaning the fault of outside forces. His writing, his concept, his themes, those are solid. This is not a racehorse that broke its leg and was still sent down the track, like some characters. This is a horse that was hale and hearty, but they made it run in circles around cars in the parking lot instead of putting it in the race. 

This essay is not going to be my most coherent one. Preston’s issues are so apparent, so in your face, it kinda feels like a waste of time explaining it. Just look at him and anyone with two braincells to rub together can see. But a lot of things in Fallout 4 sticks with me, even when I’m not in a Fallout 4 mood. Preston is one of those things. So neglected, so misused in the game, I couldn’t stop thinking about the bastard. 

Before we get into what Preston is, in-game...what was he meant to be?

And you know what? 

He’s close to Danse, post Blind Betrayal.

Preston Garvey started his military career as a fresh-faced, bright-eyed young man, who wanted to be another gun protecting the Commonwealth against whatever would harm it. He always had his faction’s best interests and ideals in mind. The first to wave the flag, the first to say the motto, the first to pick up a gun for it. He didn’t want heroism, or glory. He wanted to make the world a better place. It sounds cookie cutter, cliche, so sugary-saccharine. But this is the wasteland. This is in a world where everyone else seems content to succumb to futilism, to pretend there is no Better for the world. 

Preston Garvey is, inherently, part of a rebel army. The Minutemen were a militia, a guerilla army of farmers and their children, banding together against the oppressive totality of raiders, mercenaries, anyone who would rather gnaw on bones than build to ensure everyone was taken care of. The Minutemen are the fuck you, we want to recover and heal faction, to the raiders’ fuck you, I have a right to wallow in the ruins.

The legend herself, the icon, the Queen, Ursula K. LeGuin once said;  “The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist; a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain.” The MInutemen might look like your average, boring heroes (we’ll get into why), but it is inherently badass to look at the literal End of the World and decide, no, actually, we don’t want to lie down and die.

Preston Garvey is not a boy scout, the Minutemen are not mall cops. They are furious, determined, and most dangerously, optimistic. 

A young Preston Garvey joined under a blue banner, served under it for years...and watched as people who saw money, power, glory, took that banner and tied it into a noose.

Joe Becker died, and having not chosen someone to take over as General, all of the colonels squabbled for the position, wanting the fame, the cushy office. These people weren’t Minutemen, not at heart. The faction had grown so large, there was bound to be people looking only at the resources, what was in it for them. Preston, still a young man, but quickly losing his naivety and faith in his fellow Minutemen, watched as these colonels dropped their altruistic acts and demanded they get theirs.

And then Quincy happened.

The Minutemen were in disarray, following the Mirelurk invasion of the Castle, lacking a home base and their radio communications. But Colonel Ezra Hollis, potentially the last Colonel who gave a shit, heard that Quincy was under siege by Gunner forces, and he led his small, out-gunned squad to do whatever the fuck they could, until another Colonel came to provide the needed fire support. Hollis’ Minutemen succeeded in driving the Gunners back, and holding them off, but their help from Colonel Marbury never came. Preston watched as his Colonel refused to give up and let Quincy fall...and he watched as Clint, a ten-year veteran, betrayed everyone, chose money and a winning team over what was right. 

Quincy fell. Preston Garvey watched as the refugees fell in a line, running for safety. Watched his comrades, who he had been fighting against impossible odds with for days, dropped with them. 

Preston Garvey died, and I can tell you where. At one house, to the right, down the street from the museum, where the last other Minuteman lay dead in a yard. Where he became the Last Minuteman. Even if there were others who would call themselves such...they weren’t Minuteman, not really. The real Minutemen tried to save Quincy. Everyone else, who gave up, never believed at all.

Preston was still fucking furious at the hedonistic cruelty people indulged in and called inevitable. But he was alone, a failure, and had lost any reason to believe that there was a possibility of continuing. A point, a reason, yes. But the optimism...without that, there was no Minuteman army. 

Preston is Danse Post BB, because he’s freshly disillusioned from his faction, horrified at the truth and betrayal. He has lost his identity, his values, unsure of where to go, if there’s anywhere to go. And then...salvation walks down the street of Concord, and walks him and his group back up the road to Sanctuary. Sanctuary.

And then comes in the fucking dialogue system (FDS) and the fucking radiant system (FRS), armed with folding chairs, to beat Preston Garvey’s rich character into a bloody, twitching pulp. We cannot talk about Preston without talking about how his faction questline plays. We simply have to, because it’s like a shotgun wedding from hell.

Let’s start with the very first quest in the Minutemen. Preston, while running for his fucking life from gunners, then ferals, then raiders, has somehow heard through the grapevine/radio he doesn’t have that Tenpines has a Corvega raiders issue. He asks you to do it because he’s busy guarding Sanctuary. Okay.

You go to Tenpines, Corvega, and back, and whoop, you are now Minuteman general. 

You START THE MINUTEMEN as THE LEADER. Even fucking MAXSON waits for you to at least bump Danse off before making you a Paladin, but nope! Starting at the top, ending at the top. This kills progression in all senses. There is no sense of gaining ground, the Minutemen start with a General. Skyrim gets mocked for making you the leader of all factions, but good god, at least you had to earn it by sticking with them. 

So, bad start. 

Then you do some settlement stuff...which is handed to you in the worst fucking way. The FRS. 

Where is Preston getting this information? How are people sending it out? Ignoring the logistics...it’s just boring. You talk to Preston sometimes, and he always says Go Here, Do This, Come back. Do this enough times, Preston wants to retake the Castle. At this point, you don’t have any men, it’s just you and Preston- wait, who the fuck are these people?! We’ve had soldiers this whole time?! Who hired them?! You take the Castle and it’s admittedly cool, if not a pain to restore for all your- okay, wait, I can only bring settlers? Where are all the men I supposedly have, there’s three soldiers here! Three soldiers, this is just a Clearing the Way radiant quest, but the moving in folks helped me kill the mirelurks! 

Ugh, fine. You keep traveling, Preston gives you more- Preston?! I killed a Mirelurk Queen specifically for the radio tower, so I could get quests from the radio! Why is Preston still dispensing quests? It discourages you from talking to him, because you’ll get busywork cluttering your quest log. You can’t talk to Preston Garvey. You can’t fucking talk to him without doing him a favor first. 

Y’know what makes this even more abominable? You are said to have soldiers, who could be doing this instead! Why am I going after kidnapped settlers when we have soldiers?! The General still has a kid to find and the Institute to explode! SPEAKING OF...

The Commonwealth Provisional Government was started by the Minutemen, and ended by the Institute. This is never brought up again. And it’s not even Preston who talks about it, it’s Nick. The Minutemen have very real reason to want the Institute gone, and a good excuse to get the player to want to destroy the Institute beyond “grrr synths/they took my baby.”

Anyway, you go get artillery from Ronnie Shaw at some point, build it in your settlements, and...make your farmers man them. Not soldiers. I know you can deck out your settlers with armor and weapons, but the fact that you have maybe 5 constant, non-random encounter soldiers, all at the Castle, is...it makes it feel hollow. Where is my army, Preston? Who am I leading?

So, you do the Main Quest, blow up the Institute. Blah blah. Blow up the Brotherhood, too. Blaaaaah.

Either way, let’s get into fixes. And by fixes, I mean, complete rehaul.

First thing’s first. The entire questline is bad. It’s radiant quests and then boom boom Institute. It starts and ends the exact same way, you being the general. Second thing, we need to go back to the old dialogue system; no more YES, NO, WHAT, SARCASTIC. Actual dialogue. Back to Fallout New Vegas’s system, that relied on all stats and perks. Actual conversations with branching paths.

Saving Preston at Concord is fine. Works. It’s the first radiant quest that sucks ass. Throw that system out entirely, and I do mean entirely. Don’t save it for anything, it needs to go. It cannot remain. No being sent to Tenpines because Preston heard from a little birdie.

Instead, you work with Preston and the survivors to fortify and set up Sanctuary.

First, you work with Preston to shore up Sanctuary’s defenses. As you work with him, he’s polite, but curt. Professional, but not warm, open. He expresses gratitude, but definitely not trust. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know what your motives or wants are. You can tell him about Shaun, but he’s still not sure about you. He can’t afford to be and will tell you that outright, but...he needs someone to go see if anyone survived Lexington or Concord. He knows his other Minutemen split up with other survivors, he doesn’t know if they made it out. You can offer to go find them, or stay and protect Sanctuary. If you go, the other survivors will set up Sanctuary on their own without your help.

If you stay and Preston leaves, you plant crops with Marcy, getting to know her and potentially, she cracks and shows some vulnerability. She doesn’t soften right away, she’s still traumatized, but you get to see why she’s the way she is now. She just lost her baby, her home, all of her friends and family. Was just failed by the people who swore they’d protect them all. Betrayed by them. 

Then, you work with Sturges to get a water pump/purifier running. Sturges will tell you about Quincy in some detail, explain how it went to shit. He talks about how the Minutemen were needed more than ever, but crapped the bed at the last minute. Sturges says he thinks there’s a place in the world for the group, but with the last living soldier clearly reeling from everything that’s happened, he thinks it’s safe to say the Commonwealth is on it’s own. 

Next, it’s the bed situation with Jun. He barely says a word, only quietly thanking you for your help. If you choose the right dialogue options, he’ll say you remind him of Colonel Hollis, very brave and kind, even when it was a bad idea to help. Hollis didn’t survive, but you did. Maybe it’s not all bad, maybe Hollis wasn’t wrong, just of bad luck.

After, no matter who goes to find the bodies of the other Minutemen and Quincy locals, some Corvega raiders attack Sanctuary when they come back. It’s only a small scouting party, looking for Mama Murphy. You kill them, and Preston is freaking out and about to pack up and keep everyone moving farther. It’s up to you to calm him down and offer to go kill them. If you’ve picked certain dialogue choices before and Sanctuary has a high defense score, Preston will join you on the trip to Corvega. It’s on this journey + throughout it you can tell him about the fate of his comrades, or he tells you. If he doesn’t accompany you, you two talk about it when you get back to Sanctuary after killing Jared. 

Either way, It’s here that Mama Murphy tells you about Diamond City, not in the museum.

You do the main quest now, and when you get to Diamond City, you overhear people talking about the Quincy massacre, and what a shame that the Minutemen are gone. Someone talks about how McDonough forced all the ghouls out, and they moved up to the Slog, but now the Slog is having mutant troubles. From there, you can go decide for yourself if you want to do the Minuteman questline. The first few quests were just to organically show you the settlement system, dialogue system (the old, good one), and dungeon crawling, the explore-loot-return loop. It’s here that the Minutemen branch off from the main quest.

If you choose to save the Slog, you have the option of saying you’re there on Minuteman business, even if you’re not a Minuteman. Choosing this is what gets you in the faction proper. 

You can keep finding settlements and offering help. Doing this, Preston eventually catches word through Diamond City Radio and demands to know what the fuck you’re doing. You have a lot of options to choose from, but only the altruistic, optimistic ones will earn Preston’s trust. Anything else, he might just try to kill you, if you, like, say you’re doing it for money. But if you’re doing this for good reasons, he’s on board. Surprised, unsure this will end well, but...hey, if you want to try, he won’t stop you. If Sanctuary has enough settlers, defense, and you’ve turned enough settlers into guards (which have a different character tag, when assigned to defense posts), Preston will offer to accompany you, and that’s how you get him as a companion.

So, you and Preston wander around, doing quests, and helping out settlements. Help enough settlements, they’ll realize hey, we’re all on good terms with this Minuteman, and this person who’s basically a Minuteman...let’s just get the Minutemen back, yeah? People band together, settlements you’ve provided for will get settlers on their own. Eventually, people at settlements approach you and offer to help, what needs doing? If you have a settlement quest/errand, you can assign them to it, and they’ll complete it for you. This snow-balls until you’re taking over the Castle, for all these guns-for-hope to gather around and manage trade routes and work. You get the radio tower. You get an army. You get artillery, automatically built at every settlement in a designated spawnpoint.

It’s here that, by popular vote, you’re offered the position as General...but you can turn it down. You can hand it to Ronnie, or Preston. Both of of them agree, no, the people and the new Minutemen want you, but they’ll take it if you pass enough dialogue checks. Ronnie will run the Minutemen like a hardass, fierce and cynical to deter a second collapse, but Preston runs it like a community. He believes that cynicism was what killed the first Minutemen, and that constant reminder of who and what they do this for will keep motives pure. No matter the general, the Minutemen are now a solid force in the Commonwealth, stronger than ever, making everyone piss their pants. And it got this way because you wanted to help. 

It’s at this point that Preston’s conversation about his depression unlocks, and his romance. 

But the fun begins when the Gunners take a modicum of offense to all this.

Sanctuary is put to the sword, the Castle is attacked, and best of all, the old Colonels show their face, either on the side of the Gunners as bosses, or trying to weasel their way into the Minutemen again. Preston loves killing all of them, hates sparing or talking them down. These fuckers left him, Quincy, the Commonwealth to die, they are traitors, they are pure scum. 

The Minutemen, they fight back. You take squads into Gunner camps and clear house, take it over. People stop working with or hiring the Gunners because they don’t want to piss off the General, whoever that is. The Gunners aren’t on the ropes yet, but they’re staring down Minutemen barrels and it’s only a matter of time before this explodes into someone getting wiped off the face of the earth. 

Somewhere in-between looking for the Institute, you get kidnapped by Gunners and taken to Quincy. They’re using you as either a hostage, intending to kill you to prove a point, or torturing you for fun, taking the piss out of the idea that the puny militia could ever stand up to- hey, why am I hearing gunfire?

Preston and the Minutemen storm Quincy, putting it under a siege not even the Gunners could ever have hoped to accomplish. If the Minutemen were dog food, the Gunners are kitty treats. It’s a swift, brutal execution of every green-wearing bastard. They don’t even have time to prepare before Preston himself kicks the door down and frees you, then runs back out to continue bashing people’s heads in with his rifle. You meet up with Ronnie, and she points you down Preston’s warpath, gently asking if you can go stop before he gets himself killed trying to throttle Clint. As you chase him down, you see Clint up on the highway, looking down, before he walks away, presumably to meet Preston. 

You can go find Preston, kill Clint before he gets to him, or go kill Baker first. If Preston gets to Clint, you’ll hear him screaming bloody murder before they start the fight. They’ll fight until you go finish Clint off. Once Clint drops, Preston has something of a nervous breakdown. Ronnie and other Minutemen show up, she takes over and tells you to finish clearing Quincy with the other soldiers while she gets Preston out of the fight. You can listen to her, or insist you stay with Preston. If you stay, you clear the way for Ronnie’s group to get back behind Minutemen lines just outside of Quincy. Baker can be killed by NPC Minutemen, so you don’t have to worry about it too much.

The Minutemen have Quincy again, Preston is recovering from his panic attack, and Ronnie is foaming at the mouth at the idea of going at Gunner HQ. You can agree or disagree. If you’ve been killing the Colonels, Preston will think that the Gunners are in such bad shape, it’s only a matter of time before they kill themselves with infighting, just as the Minutemen did. If you’ve spared the Colonels, he’ll want to finish off the Gunners, as they’re still too organized and armed to leave alive. If Ronnie is General, the Minutemen attack Gunner HQ anyway, no matter what, but if not, the player can influence Preston or make the decision themselves.

Laying siege to Gunner HQ cements the Minutemen’s place as the strongest army in the Commonwealth. With this ending for the Minutemen, non-important/notable raider hideouts will be cleared automatically, either because soldiers killed them, or the Minutemen were so oppressive, they couldn't find anyone to raid. Other factions will speak more carefully to you, be gentler when describing their intentions. Maxson and other BOS soldiers, if you join them, will mention that being so close to the Castle was unintentional, and they’re nervous about the Minutemen turning their artillery on the Airport. You’ll have a harder time getting the Brotherhood to go to war with Minutemen in this ending. Everyone in game will acknowledge what the Minutemen become, through your efforts.

If you let the Gunners dissolve, you’ll see Gunners having left for raider groups, groups of them killing each other, Gunners trying to get in with the Minutemen. Those Gunners, if you’re general, you can take them on, kill them, or turn them away. General Ronnie will kill them, General Preston’s choice depends on if you have been more merciful, or grudge-holding. People will comment on the Gunners wasting away into little more than scavengers, and with enough time, if you go to Gunner HQ, you find it empty and abandoned. People are less scared of the Minutemen this ending, as they didn’t obliterate the most dangerous local  army in a show of total force and revenge. The Brotherhood is more likely to go to war with you, less intimidated, but the Railroad will offer their spy network if you agree to help them rehabilitate and save synths, provided you’ve spoken positively of synths.

Either ending, the Institute will try to destroy the Minutemen, as they destroyed the Commonwealth Provisional Government in the past. But now, the Minutemen have the firepower and intel to destroy the Institute, or take it over, if you so choose. Even if you don’t follow Shaun, if you choose to or convince General Ronnie/Preston to spare the Institute and use it for the Commonwealth’s benefit, you are left with it under your control, enforced by the Minutemen. 

So. What does this revision do?

I dislike when people portray him as an innocent, gentle little sunshine boy, and not as an army vet who survived where none of his fellow soldiers could. This man has an edge to him. He isn’t a small sad puppy, he has something of a mean streak in canon. In this revision, Preston has opportunities to demonstrate layers of his character, showing how his trauma and guilt has effected him. You get to see it for yourself, rather than hear about it. You can see him break down in Quincy, you can see him resist the idea that strangers can have good intentions, you can see him rebuild his hope for the Minutemen and himself. And you can also see him lose patience for people who have wronged him, want to cut down anyone who would threaten his people, be kind of irrational and lashing out.

I also dislike that the Minutemen have no visible effect on the wasteland, nothing you can actually see. No one else sees it, either. Here, people will acknowledge the Minutemen’s power. And, c’mon, in game, you are the only one doing anything. In this rehaul, you get things started, but people will be active participants in restoring the Minutemen, will build settlements for you. You can go decorate and fiddle around, but you won’t have to worry about water, food, beds, and defense, they’ll get it sorted themselves. The busywork is also passed off to soldiers, who you could potentially catch in the action as they clear out mutants or save kidnapped settlers.

And the finale of facing off against the Gunners, and either destroying them, or brushing them off as a decaying tantrum with guns, gives the Minutemen something to do for themselves, beyond the Institute. You’d have to lock off Quincy and Gunner HQ, so the player can’t clear them without going through the questline, but that’s fine, other quests do that. But the Gunners are never brought up, not really. It also lets Preston confront his greatest trauma and come up victorious, even if it hurt, and when deciding on the fate of Gunner HQ, lets him evolve as a person and take influence from the player, depending on their relationship. 

I think, as the de facto companion for his faction, Preston’s arc needs to be directly tied to it. The other companions don’t really have this either, but Preston got the short straw in that he was his faction. Everything came from him and was turned in to him. He became a dispenser for quests instead of one person in this group, with his own ideas about how to run it, his own fears and guilt about how it failed the first time. He doesn’t reflect the Minutemen, their ideals. Who they are as a collective.

Deacon, Danse, and X6 have their own massive writing issues, but it’s clear that they are representations of their factions. Deacon is an all-over-the-place trickster type trying to keep shit together, the Railroad is a clown car trying to smuggle slaves to safety. X6 is a cold, ruthless, logical Terminator, the Institute are cold, sterile, ends-justify-the-means scientists. Danse is a stern, no-nonsense soldier with a good heart under the Power Armor, the Brotherhood is a tight-knit brotherhood, an army with good intentions that often forgets who those good intentions are meant to serve. 

Preston...he’s a good guy, a traumatized one. The Minutemen...you have 5 nameless “Minuteman Soldier” NPCs, and Ronnie. So...the Minutemen is Preston, Preston is the Minutemen. He isn’t allowed to be Preston, who is a Minuteman. He’s Preston the Minuteman. 

That’s a damn shame.

#preston garvey

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

You know what would be funny? While the RDA is obsessing over Pandora's resources and providing the rich assholes with ways to extend their wrinkled existence, the rest of humanity goes “Fuck this shit! Time to fix up our planet!” Like full on terraform Earth back to its former glory.

And so, while the RDA is spending billions to send ships to terrorizing the tall, blue people, the rest of the world is having its redemption arc up until like a year after the second movie, where they’re at the point where they can go “Yoooo, wtf is the RDA doing over there? Oh, they got bored with fucking us over so they moved to alien natives? Nah, send in the Balkan people (These mfs are built different I swear, they’ll just take a breath of pandoran air and go “Umm, spicy and refreshing”). They’re sent on their way (Let’s say they arrive in 1 year flat because screw physics, this is a joke post, mf are going 4 times ftl.), beat the ever living shit out of the Ahaa cartoon villains that are the RDA personnel and teach them some, you know, human decency, queue in the best apology video of all time, leave the blue people alone, boom mission accomplished. RDA gets sued to hell and back (You know, war crimes and all of that) and even more funding goes to fixing up Earth until its basically as we know it today.

Later down the line, the na’vi need help because of some disaster, humanity sends said help, some form of actual peace is formed, Spider becomes the ambassador of human/na’vi relationships (Guy had the glow up of the century, which tends to happen when you live in a time of peace again and people actually love and care for you “ahem, Spider Sully”) Human and Na’vi truly learn about each other (Ones aren’t uncivilized savages, but people with a unique cultures and deep history. Others aren’t advanced savages with boom sticks, but, you guessed it, people with a unique cultures and deep history.) and learn from each other.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

The end

(Very unrealistic, I know)  

Ugh, my dream. The terraforming Earth part, not the humans coming back. Because the whole movie is a colonization metaphor, I'm so tentative and iffy on the Na'vi needing or wanting any help or support from humanity.

But regardless, I am obsessed with the idea of humanity healing Earth. I know that we are cynical people and are always like "This is realistic, humans are selfish and would take advantage of Pandora as we did to Earth." And I totally get that, but I also love those humans are inherently good stories. I do think the majority of people care and have empathy about other people and their situations, and the majority of problems in the world are systematic and stem from ignorance. People are uneducated or are struggling with what they have to deal with on their own, and don't have the wherewithal to care about every single other thing that is such a gigantic systematic issue. I would love for people, for everyone, to just be like yeah this isn't okay anymore lets fix it. About anything and then everything. But I digress.

I love the idea of Spider Sully and Jake being a bridge between the Na'vi and humanity. I think Jake would have to be involved as well, because honestly Spider has never been to Earth and has never been with regular humans. My man knows no human culture or traditions, really. He's like, really Na'vi biased in that way, hilariously.

Spider: Na'vi culture is better and more important, obviously.

Someone: well, what is human culture.

Spider: clearly it's test tubes, guns, air lock doors, green paper, Jesus Christ, and also tank tops.

#lol like if all my humanity knowledge was based on avatar i would think they were boogey men coming to snatch me at night #fucking slenderman #spider's like and they worship their god money #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #spider sully #jake sully #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #melissa's asks #melissa on avatar (cameron)

[theresattrpgforthat]

this might be a big ask, but do you know of any fantasy adventure RPGs that does idk fantasy napolionics, not nesesarily actual napolionics with fantasy elements, but sorta 18th very early 19th century tech + magic and other fantasy stuff, pre/peri-industrial but only just, whfrpg leans (allover the place but) earlier, and a lot of other fantasy stuff with guns leans eather Piracy, or steapunk?

THEME: Fantasy Napoleonics.

Hello friend, there's a lot of different elements going on here, so I"m casting a pretty wide net to show you what's out there. I hope something in here strikes your fancy! I primarily looked for games that felt like they fell within the right time frame, but I also threw in some games that maybe fall just outside your parameters in the hopes they spark something for you.

Castle Falkenstein, by R. Talsorian Games.

When computer game designer Tom Olam found himself sorcerously shanghaied by a rogue Wizard and a Faerie Lord, little did he suspect that he would soon become the pivotal force in the struggle to control an alternate Victorian Universe. But before the deadly game could end, he would first have to battle gigantic Landfortresses, outwit Dragons, romance a beautiful Adventuress, and defeat the Evil legions of a Dark Court determined to destroy him at all costs.  Then maybe, just maybe, he could find a way home again …

Originally published in 1994, Castle Falkenstein is set in the Victorian era, but with a magical twist. This is a world of swashbuckling and adventure, complete with elves, dwarves and magic - but also submarines, Sherlock Holmes, and England’s courtly sensibilities.

There’s going to be many different kinds of roleplaying options in this kind of game, including combat, feats of derring-do, and diplomacy! The thing that possibly makes this game a bit far from what you’re looking for is the ruleset. Rather than using dice, this game uses a deck of cards, with different suits being suitable for different tasks, while card value determines skill or difficulty.

When it comes to setting, however, you’re going to have a lot of great things to look at. The supplements for this game include The Lost Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci, Curious Creatures, Steam Age, and more!

17th Century Minimalist, by Games Omnivorous.

Welcome to the 17th century minimalist.

This is a fast-paced and highly-deadly game with a pinch of black humour that puts characters as wanderers in 17th century Europe. You will play as tricksters, thieves, former soldiers, bankrupt swashbucklers and petty physicians, roaming the Old Continent in search of coin and glory. The system is designed to allow fast character creation, compatibility with other games (mostly in the OSR community) and a reckless style of play. 

The closest thing to magic in this game is an illusionist, but that doesn't stop this game from pushing your imagination. Games Omnivorous is pretty well-regarded in the OSR community. 17th Century Minimalist is meant to be simplified, fast-paced, and deadly, with technology like flintlock fire-arms, and goals like searching for treasure and glory. If you want to see a fuller review of this game, I’d recommend looking at Questing Beast’s video that covers the rules and the layout of the game.

A Guide to Casting Phantoms in the Revolution, by World Champ Games Co.

A Guide to Casting Phantoms in the Revolution is a single-session roleplaying game, in which players work together to summon specters to fight the aristocracy during the French Revolution. Featuring the pentacrawl system, Guide is different every time you play. Played on a story map in the shape of a pentagram, create a cast of characters, interpret symbols to create unique moments, and have the phantoms do you bidding—or you’ll do theirs!

This is a game with a number of physical, in-person components required to play. However, if you just have the pdf, the creator also directs you to online resources that you can print for the full experience. You are members of a secret cabal, casting phantoms to help you fight. This is a game that evokes the feeling of a ritual, and might feel magical or personal depending on how you play. It’s a strange mix of thematic storytelling and complex mechanics, so it might not be for everyone, but if you want to feel like a cult enacting revenge through eldritch rituals, I’d recommend checking this out!

Tales from the Aerosphere, by EfanGamez.

Tales from the Aerosphere is an original steampunk TTRPG that is powered by the Neon Nights system, a system that prioritizes seemingly limitless character creation freedom. From medics, to assassins, to mechanics, to a literal barbarian, there are THOUSANDS of character combinations you can play in Tales from the Aerosphere.

This game has its own setting, but all of the set pieces could be dropped, altered or changed if you like. The focus on this game is on character creation: the creator has outlined a number of discrete parts that you can use to not just put a unique character together, but tell you something about the world you’re in. If you’re a Spy, then there’s some kind of international conflict that hasn’t blown open into full-out war yet - perhaps there’s technology being developed that some nations don’t want others to learn about.

The game is extremely steampunk, with airships, CogWare that gives you exceptional abilities, and Tesla technology. It’s going to be on the more fantastical side of things, so if you really want to immerse yourself in another world, why not give it a go?

Shot & Splinters, by Tom Mecredy.

Shot & Splinters is a tabletop roleplaying game of naval adventure, inspired by Horatio Hornblower, Aubrey & Maturin, and Richard Sharpe. Drawing on history but not beholden to it, the game is set against the backdrop of the Napoleonic Wars, thrusting your characters into the heart of the conflict. 

If you want seafaring and piracy, this is probably the game for you. It’s set in a napoleonic time frame, but it has strange creatures located upon uncharted waters. The mechanics are OSR, so expect simple stats, tables upon tables of gear, and a hex crawl map of the uncharted seas. If you want more adventure in this world, you can also check out Beneath the Battlements, a city crawl that brings your characters through a city under invasion. Honestly, I think this game might be the closest on the list of what you're looking for in terms of technology level, and possibly theme.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Lady Blackbird, by John Harper.

#dnd #historical games #steampunk #game recommendations #indie ttrpgs #tabletop games #asks #there's a lot of wide-reaching stuff here

[arcplaysgames]

a few P5R classpects

for the characters I think are strong enough that I can assign them a classpect

Maruki: Page of Doom

Might parse to "served by the aspect of inevitability." Doom is the aspect of people who analyse the rules and test the boundaries of them. They see the code of the matrix and learn to make it work for them. Pages as people who seem to be small time at first but they have an almost innate, subconscious connection to their aspect so it does their bidding.

Maruki was always the king of cognitive psience, and his arc through the MSQ is him further unraveling the parameters of how it works and taking a scientific approach to a metaphysical thing.

Another thing about Pages is that they aren't just served by their aspect but their aspect is served to them by the people around them. And just so, the Thieves unwittingly hand Maruki all the knowledge and opportunities he needs to reach the apex of his power.

Morgana: Maid of Light

Might parse to "burdened by the aspect of relevance/agency." Light is the aspect of the literal spotlight on the stage, of knowing the script, of understanding the play. People with more Light have more power over their own lives. Maids are "made" of their aspect, as in they walk into the narrative with an overabunance of their aspect and give of themselves to others.

Morgana is the giver of agency, knowledge, and opportunity to the Thieves. He guides them through their awakenings and explains how the Cognitive World works.

But the thing with Maids is that while they have a lot of their aspect, they are discontent, and are lacking in something else, something that can't be supplied by their aspect. Morgana can help the people around him come into their Thiefy glory, but he is haunted by his missing memory and the lack of understanding of himself.

Joker: lmao Witch of Heart???

Might parse to "Sponsored by the aspect of identity." This one is funny to me because the way Persona works, the way Wild Cards work is that they have hundreds of identities in the sea of their soul, so i think I HAVE to say he's a Witch of Heart.

Being a Witch fucking sucks. I consider one of the tests of being a Witch "has your aspect tried to kill you/put you in danger," and I think Joker passes that test with flying colors. In return for the ways personae have screwed up his life, Joker is granted enormous power from them and has almost total control of his domain. But it comes with the caveat that he lacks a lot of other aspects.

And Heart, of course, is the aspect of identity, it is the willingness to use yourself as a hammer, it's iteration and personal growth. The path forward comes from inside, self reflection.

Haru: Sylph of Life

Might parse to "Heals the aspect of affluence in others."

There is pretty much no way Haru is not a Life player. All Life players share a common starting point, in that they come from a place of privilege and of something analogous to royalty/nobility. They always start the 'game' in a more comfortable position than their fellows. But with it comes obligations, often painful ones they want to escape. Haru and her entire SLink pretty much revolve around this.

I say Sylph because they're the aspect of "I'm a doctor but [cocks gun]" and that's Haru's vibe. She is sweet and eager to help people around her and her introduction is finding Morgana lost and hurt and helping him with her resources. She's so loving and also she hits like a truck. When a Sylph decided to impose their will on the world, shit gets done.

Also they are all just a little bit cutting and able to be more forthright than their group. Haru is the most capable of stating her boundaries and talking back to people, and it's great. Love Haru.

Akechi: Heir of Void

It's hard to nail down Akechi but I'm going with "Avatar of the aspect of obsession." Heirs are weird in that you shouldn't really see them as being players of the game. They are being played by their aspect, directed by its rules and whims, and they seem to have the least control over their aspect. They are incredibly potent, but they have almost no control over their lives.

This I think fits Akechi well, as someone who has been in a constant struggle to have any agency at all in his own story, and every time he starts to get a foothold, it crumbles beneath him.

Void as the aspect of obsession is a dark one. Void players are prone to fixation, to locking onto something and being unable to pry themselves away from it. A Heir of Void would be driven by selfish and uncontrollable whims and desires, but also would be terrifyingly competent at the things they do.

But also very unlikely to break free.

Futaba: Rogue of Space

Would parse to "Distributing the aspect of the concrete world to others." Rogue players are the backbones of any team they are on, and their job is to make sure everyone around them has enough of their aspect. They're support players keeping folks going.

Space players are enthusiasts about something, and they understand the entire world through their one specific realm of knowledge. They are incredibly adept at their domain, but are often at odds against something that is outside their domain. It's like being the god of a place, having total understanding and control of that place, but being unable to even cross the boundary line into another place.

Futaba has enormous control of information and can supply it easily, but she frequently slams into walls that keep her out of certain things, and it's one of her biggest points of frustration.

#persona 5 #whomstve #not persona liveblog #p5

[wctruitt]

They were literally backwoodsmen, who had always resided on the frontiers, forming the connecting link between civilized and savage men; and who did not, in their emigration to the west, form any new acquaintance with the perils of the wilderness. They had been inhabitants of the long line of frontier lying east of the Alleghany mountains; were the descendants of men, whose lives had been spent in fierce contests with the Indians; and were themselves accustomed from infancy, to the vicissitudes of hunting and border warfare. A few of them came from Pennsylvania and Maryland, but the great body from Virginia and North Carolina.

Strictly speaking, they were not farmers; for, although they engaged in agriculture, they depended chiefly on their guns for subsistence; and were allured to the west, rather by the glories of the boundless forest and the abundance of game, than by the fertility of the new lands and the ample resources of the country. They came singly or in small parties, careless of protection and fearless of consequences.

Their first residence was a camp; a frail shelter formed of poles and bark, carefully concealed in some retired spot, in which they hid the spoils of the chase, and to which they sometimes crept for repose at night, or slept away the long inclement days, when the hunter and his prey were alike driven by the storm to seek the shelter of their coverts. At other times, they roamed abroad, either engaged in hunting, or in making long journies of exploration; sleeping in the open air, and feeding upon the fruits of the forest and the flesh of wild animals, without bread or condiment.

Excerpt from SKETCHES OF HISTORY, LIFE, AND MANNERS INTHE FAR WEST; by James Hall (1834)

#pioneers #frontier life #frontiersmen #old west #backwoodsmen #backwoods #longhunters #the way west #frontiersman #james hall #great books

[eidingate]

Eidin in ARR: Machinist. Scavenger. Fugitive.

The family business that Eidin was raised in bears many descriptors: merchant, smuggler, scavenger. They would call themselves salvagers. They slipped across the Empire's battlefields and harvested the scrap magitek left behind by its armies. A single piece of magitek armor could be broken down into dozens of valuable components that could be sold or traded to those who could not procure such materials so easily as Garlemald. The fact that this happened to particularly benefit resistance factions was no accident, either.

Illegal? Technically. Dangerous? Only if they got caught. Or sloppy. They were rarely sloppy. Eidin was taught early how to check for live explosives, how to disarm weaponry, how to power down a ceruleum engine. Sometimes they were hired for exactly that: to disarm and disable the hazardous war machines left behind for the locals to deal with. Those were the jobs that often got paid in favors and gratitude more than gil. They were usually Eidin's favorites.

Eidin would tell you that she grew up all over the place, really. Drifting up and down the Northern Empty, skirting the edges of Ilsabard, crossing the deserts of Dalmasca. She even spent a few summers roughing it in the Burn. She learned how to spot the guard who can be convinced to look the other way with a friendly word and modest bribe. How to charm the local villagers into giving her directions that won't send her straight into the nearest pit. When to match the aggressive posturing of a pirate client (of both the sky and nautical varieties) and when to adopt the formality of a Sharlyan one.

Naldthal truly smiled upon them, they who picked through instruments of death for their coin. At least, until it all went to shit.

Eidin knew well that she was meant to keep her head down and blend in when Garlean soldiers were around. Her parents had always taught her that she could do more good by playing it smart and keeping her distance, weakening the Empire by funnelling its resources to its enemies. Quiet rebellion is better than a dead rebel.

But Eidin saw a tribunus laticlavius dragging a young girl through a crowded street in Ilsabard. And she forgot all about keeping her head down.

The dozen or so witnesses who saw her kill a senior Garlean officer with a pistol in broad daylight forgot all about the girl. There would be no fading back into the crowd this time.

Eidin did the only thing that made sense: she ran like hell. She dropped a letter for her family with a business contact, talked her way onto a ship to Limsa, and prayed that her family would get themselves away. She tossed her beloved gun into the ocean, worried that it was too distinctive to hang onto. It would be a long time before she picked up a gun again.

Arriving in Eorzea broke and weaponless was hardly enough to stop her. She took the dirty jobs, used them to try to make some quick connections and learn how to appear more Eorzean. People took to calling her "adventurer" and well, she liked the sound of that. By the time the Scions caught up with her, she had her cover story firmly in place: Eidin Foxglove, a humble adventurer who had left behind her days as a dock worker in search of glory.

She took to the Scions easily. Running with a crew again made her feel almost at home, and gave her an excuse to keep busy.

Despite her apparent skill, however, Thancred began to wonder if their new Echo bearer might be too good to be true. A fledgling archer she might be, and clearly new to much of Eorzea and her politics, but Eidin’s calm fearlessness on the battlefield combined with how suspiciously well versed she was with Garlean tactics made him start looking closer.

It was only a matter of time before his contacts in Garlemald sent word of a high profile murder, and a hunt for a lone Sea Wolf gunwoman.

Eidin caught onto his suspicion when she noticed him tailing her. She didn’t appreciate being forced to come clean to the Scions before she was ready to tell them, and she would bear that grudge against Thancred for a long time. In her mind, every new person who knew her identity was one more potential threat to the family she tried to keep safe with her distance.

Still, the Scions surprised her. Their immediate concern was about keeping her safe from Garlemald’s reach, and about setting up a more secure means of communicating with her family. She especially grew close to Tataru, as she became the primary point of contact between Eidin and her loved ones.

The letters started pouring in, dripping with furious worry. Her siblings scolded just as hard as parents and aunts did, but eventually they had to concede that at least she’d gotten out alive and kept a low profile ever since.

And then, of course, Castrum Meridianum happened, and the name of the hero who’d struck a blow against Garlemald resonated through Eorzea and beyond.

The next letter that Eidin received said only,

“THAT IS NOT A LOW PROFILE”

#femroe #roegadyn #eidin kupfohcwin #eidin lore

[little-elenaarchive]

Closed starter for @klaeus

The wasteland.

Living proof that 'life will find a way' even in the barren ashes of a world destroyed by nuclear fall out life had refused to be snuffed out. Granted, the world today looks nothing like it did before the bombs dropped. Cities were mostly comprised of ruins from the world before. Towns just salvaged homes from the time before. With little resources left in the world there wasn't much else you could do. There was nothing to build new shelters out of on the scale humanity needed to bounce back to its former glory.

People scattered into factions and groups with different agendas and beliefs. People who want to do good, people who only have their own interest at heart. Raiders, groups of deplorable people who attack travelers and towns, destroying murdering and defiling people as they steal their food and water, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.

Then there's what some would consider worse. Apex. No one knows where it is, who they are, or what they want. What we do know is they are responsible for terrible things. Entire families going missing in the middle of the night without a trace. There have been a few people discovered in the middle of the wasteland stripped to nothing, with injuries people cant explain. They rarely survive past a week, and the ones that do tend to have very little memory of what they'd been through.

Aside from that the larger cities tended to be on the better more civilized side. Mostly. And then there's the vaults, a lot of them emptied out years ago but some of them keep to themselves, fully functioning and existing in worlds of their own. Some vaults had horrors go down long before humanity returned to the surface, and all that remains in them is echos of people who tried to play god when they shouldnt have.

Still, a vault if you find one, is a fantastic place to scavenge medical supplies and ammo. Which was exactly what Elena was intending to do. She'd found the vault door the previous day but did not have the recommended amount of ammo to start anything safely. So she returned promptly today, much better suited for her hunt. Except the vault door was open? Had someone beat her to it? Inside the doorway she could see some bodies of what appeared to be mole rats. There had been a fight. A low growl sounded from behind her and Elena held a hand up to sooth its source as she sank down to inspect the ground. "The blood's still wet, this was recent." The young girl stood back up and looked around, there was a grunt and a weapons discharge near by. Whoever it was sounded like they were in trouble, so naturally, Elena ran towards the danger. It didn't take her long to locate the source. A man, fighting off a gecko while injured. So it wasn't just the molerat blood she'd seen. Turning to her growling companion, Elena told him to stay put and then headed into action. A child of the wasteland she was no stranger to handling her gun or handling the local wildlife. It took her one shot and the massive lizard went down. Critical hit.

Elena rushed over to the injured party and sank to his level, looking him over.

"Hey! Are you ok? You're bleeding, can I help?"

A little too trusting for a stranger in the wasteland, that's always been an issue with Elena. She wants to help first and think second. It wouldn't be the first time it'd gotten her in trouble.

#thread #klaeus #verse: fallout #IM SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG PLEASE DO NOT FEEL PRESSURED TO MATCH LENGTH

[alchemistdetective]

Jormungandr

A unit from Hell specialized as a small, yet effective fairy group, plundering worlds for materials and resources, while also being a group specialized in battle.

The basis of the unit is that giving a gun to a child is just as deadly as giving it to an adult with equal training, so... why not create an army based on immortal fairies?

And so, Jormungandr was born.

---

Jormungandr #1 Estoile - Paladin The Head of the Serpent

A hell fairy who's the brains behind the group, and the leader. The fairy who has bounded everyone together to work as a team, and being the group's moral support, especially Clementia's.

Uses the art of the traditional sword and shield, and despite her smiles, she wouldn't hesitate to strike down a defenseless opponent, if it means fulfilling their objective. She's a soldier first, and a fairy second.

Deceased.

Jormungandr #2 Oberon - Summoner The Mouth of the Serpent

The unit's scout. A hell fairy who used to be a fairy of Makai before accidentally wandering into Hell. Nothing drives her more than making Alice Margatroid return to Makai, as well as restoring her former home's glory.

Creates familiars out from her staff in the form of beasts, her default favourite being a Wyvern named 'Nidhogg', which tears her victims without mercy.

Jormungandr #3 Helia - Witch The Body of the Serpent

The unit's executioner. By far the most unhinged of the unit, Helia's antics unnerves even her teammates at times, and is, at times, a loose cannon.

Solely lives for the thrill of murder, and the only thing which fills her with joy is sadism. While she has an arsenal of spells, the true meaning behind her moniker is through the use of forbidden magic, controlling her opponents' body via their blood with water magic during the full moon, going so far as to commit assisted suicide.

Jormungandr #4 Clementia - Gunner The Eyes of the Serpent

The girl who shouldn't have been in the unit in the first place, and yet, did, solely due to her survival skills. Always puts on a brave front, but ultimately is the first one to be against killing... much to Helia's annoyance.

Her battle ability is just as good as the rest of the unit, but what holds her back is her hesitant behavior to take another life which isn't a monster. The smith of the unit, along with being the designated sharpshooter, raining floods of bullets towards groups.

#And finally there we are #THE ENTIRE CREW #Those who went to Crescent's secret files in her profile know the members by now but this one is more detailed :D #headcanon

[greenycrimson]

Do you have a "must read" book /audio book ?

I read a lot of non fiction and the book I recommend the most to people is Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs and Steel. It's a marvellous why-history of the world and makes the case for why much of human history has been the way it has; for e.g. why did European countries invade the Americas rather than the other way around? There's no racial nonsense but rather an examination of: who had better resources for making, e.g. steel, or long distance boats? Who had more experience of sailing and warfare? Who lived in larger population centres and ended up with more exposure to disease - and who brought those diseases with them to a new population? It is so interesting, I think I read it over two days and then started bothering other people about it. Part of the fascination is because I live in this world, and part of it is that I am a person you can entertain with an explanation (I am weak for an exploded diagram - here's my second book recc: buy a copy of David Macauley's The Way Things Work it is a delightful confluence of art and explanation) but also - if you write and if you want to build a fantasy world then GG&S is an excellent foundation resource.

You were probably hoping for a fiction book. I've just turned and given my shelves a hard stare and nearly all of it is genre fiction so: if you like fantasy I'd lend you The Last Unicorn and tell you Peter Beagle does not get the praise he deserves; if you enjoy Sci Fi I'd offer The Imperial Radch series which are marvellous; comedy? I feel there's no point in being the umpteenth person to tell you that Pratchett is marvellous, but he's made me laugh the most, sorry Wodehouse; if you like adventure The Aubreyad is boat adventures with two idiots best friends; Pat Barker's Regeneration trilogy is set during WWI and so, so well written - not a drop of the glory of war, just the lives of people trying to survive; if you want a classic that'll be on a list of 'classic' books To Kill a Mockingbird, and if you want an easy listen to the Classics then Stephen Fry's Mythos and the following series is a delight.

But I really do mean it about Guns, Germs and Steel.

#I hope I sort of answered your question

[lilacwineandthesinkingsun]

Easier to read

AN: i dont know. just something.

Pairing: Loyd Hansen x agent!reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SCROLL AWAY PLEASE

The photos all around you in the dark apartment while a security camera showed numerous recordings of the man with the mustache. He was way easier to read than what anybody thought. In fact it had made you smirk to know that despite he was so easy to read, he did a good job making everybody think he wasnt. Hiding behind the sociopath profile was easy, even earning some pity along the way.. He was ill, it wasn't really his fault to not care about the destruction he left behind, and with seemingly endless resources he was indeed a good asset to bring in. Except, nobody new of you. Sierra 11. The last of the secret team. Noone saw you, noone know of you except Fitzroy, you were even more of a gray man than the rest of them were. You were the most silent of them, noone ever knew you even existed. And this came as a blessing for Fiztroy in this case. He needed Hansen eliminated, his niece saved. While Six and the others drew everyone's attention you could carry out the plan.

Here you were studying the manchild. He was good at barking orders, he was good with hand in hand combat, but there was his weakness: guns. Do not get me wrong, he was pretty good with those too, just not remarkably. He got shot a few times, without an exception it made him trash and throw tantrums. EVERY TIME. This was where you'd get him. Also he never believed a woman can best him. Sexist...

Fitzroy sent the sign, you had no way to reply, as per agreed. He could only hope and pray you recieved it and you'll come. And of course you'd come. He was the only thing close to family you had. Funny isn't it? The same fate as all the sierras. You know you were trained for his selfish reasons, but you refused to only see his selfishness, there were good intentions down there as well.

You were on the airplane with them heading towards Croatia. The pilots are on your side, you'll let them live. You decided the safest route was to wait until they are asleep, then release a gas that puts them further asleep for a bit, making your job easier. A Man that sleeps, doesn't resist. You slowly eliminated all the men on the plane except for Hansen, Fitzroy and his niece. After landing You threw the bodies in the sea, leaving with Hansen in your car before Fitzroy wakes up so you wouldn't be compromised. You needed to search Hansen before leaving, so there he was in all his glory, tied up at the bactseat of your car. He was sitting in the middle, arms and legs tied to the sides. You had to admit he was a sight to see. You were on the way to your private island in Greece , already on the private ship with your car when he started to trash.

-Calm down pretty boy, i'd hate for you to lose one of your balls. - you said to him in a calm voice.

-Who the hell are you? - he asked fuming.

-Don't you wanna know? - you said almost flirtily, gosh, what was wrong with you. You chuckled a bit before going silent again. He was smart, he knew he won't get answers. After another two hours, you were nearing the island, so you put on your gas mask, before sending him to a peaceful sleep again.

-You'll regret th.... - he said before snoring softly. You sighed.

-I will, won't i? - you asked of nobody. Maybe you should've kill him on the plane and be done with it. You were still gonna kill him, you just.. found him too intriguing to kill before talking to him.

You brought him to the basement, tying him to a chair in the middle of the room, all the pictures and informations of him scattered all around. You were lounging on the sofa in front of him, reading a book.

-I mean i'm into kinky shit, but you could've just asked.. - a coarse voice tore you from your book. You still didn't look at him, just smiling into the book.

-Aren't you charming..

-I could be a lot more than charming sweetheart... if you'd.. - he moved in his restraints.- let me out.

-You know Lloyd, i always find it so interesting when men think women will break, and free them. Remind me again for what? Empty promises of safety, sex even... - you said as you sat up, hand going on your forehead in a dramatic manner, faking a faint - being saved by the prince, the ugly bad man they have in their restraints changing for them and them only.. I mean.. i studied you, you've gone quite far, still... it was so easy to play your weaknesses against you. You see, i do not have false hopes, but i do have my safety, and also your worthless little life in my very hands. Let's say i'd indeed wanted to have sex with you.. don't you think i would just take it this way? - you said as you slowly walked towards him, still in your bodycon tactical gear, the point of the knife under his chin making him look at you in the eye as you smirked at him dangerously. He gulped as his eyes took you in. Something about the dangers of it made him even more hard. Which of course you noticed, it wasn't that hard to see, he was in his underwear and he was huge. You chuckled and went to the decanter to pour yourself a glass of whiskey, before sitting down on the sofa, facing him.

-We could have fun sweetheart. - he winked.

-Look Hansen, i know you pretend to be a psychopath, smart move really. And i believe you know you are not here to satisfy my bodliy needs. So let's just get over with and tell me, who hired you to kidnap that kid?

-There were only one sierra left, and i don't ever remember coming in contact with you. Are you one of Fitzroys laughable little program?

-I am the one asking questions pretty boy. - you said while throwing a knife straight into the chair between his legs, inches away from his manhood. He didn't even flinch, he just took a big, slow breath before looking at you with dark eyes.

-What will i get if i answer your questions sweetheart? If you studied well you know i don't work for free.

-Oh but you see, you're not working... Let's say every question you answer gets you another minute to live. - You said as you twirled another blade between your fingers.

-Little hard to think with this thing here.. - he motioned to his dick with his head. You slowly got up, walked towards him seductively, looking him in the eyes as you slid the blade from his neck, down to his abdomen, only to pierce the chair, effectively pining his now ruined underwear to it, making him almost moan as hi bit his lip.

-I'll gladly cut it off for you.. it would be such a shame tho, isn't it? SO, i'll ask you again, who hired you? - you asked as you took a hold of the hair on the back of his head, making him tilt it back as you got in his face, noses nearly touching.

-Denny Carmichael. - he whispered against your lips.

-She is a bloody child. - you whispered back.

-I care about the money sweetheart. - he said but you could see a hint of quilt in his eyes, along with the twich of his member cause of you being close.

-Word says you're in love with dear Denny. - you say, leaning so close if he wanted to he could kiss you.

-I prefer you.. - he says before softly kissing you. And you deepen it. You'll kill him anyways, you might as well have some fun. You're still fisting his hair, as you move to straddle him, slowly grinding on his lenght, making him moan into your mouth. As you move to stand to get rid of your gear, he's almost growling at the sight of your body. Scars littered here and there, yet still somehow the prettiest he ever saw.

-I could make you feel so good sweetheart, why don't you untie me and let me?

You cock an eyebrow as you move to remove the knife from inbetween his legs. Carefully touching it along his shaft, making him shudder with pleasure.

-I'm not that stupid Hansen.. - before you rid him of his underwear, and spit on his member. He tilts his head back, murmuring a "dear god" as you slid him into you, sinking down on him, velvety folds welcoming him, sweetly stretching around. YOu couldn't help but moan. As you started to move, the circling of your hips made him hitting that spot inside you everytime. He felt the fluttering of your walls, making him smirk, and plant kisses on your collarbone up your neck. He whispered into your ear, in a low growl.

-Cum for me sweetheart. - and you didn't need to be asked twice. You came loudly, riding out your high, as you felt him stutter under you, releasing his seed into the depths of you. You collapsed on him, trying to catch your breath.

-If that's what answering questions gets me, i'll answer every one from now on. - he said and it made you giggle.

-If you wouldn't want to kill me i'd ask you to marry me you know?! - he whispered against your skin.

-Don't be stupid Hansen.. we both know if i'd so much as let one of your hands free, you'd kill me. And you'd be right to do so.

-Well maybe if you ask hours before i would've, but now.. i don't think i could let that pussy go to waste. - he says, kissing your shoulder softly. - There is something about the most beautiful woman in the world besting me in my own game.. You're dangerous, you're a worthy opponent. That matters more than killing some i wasn't paid to kill.. I don't even know your name. - he scoffed, making you smile. You slowly stood up, whimpering at the loss of him, as you turned around and left the room. A day later you walk in an oversized white button-up shirt. His eyes beam at the sight of you.. Not the usual thing you see on them after spending the night filthy, tied to a chair in the basement. You drink your coffee, as you read the news on the secure phone.

-My men will find me you know. Wouldn't it be better that they find me on honeymoon with my secret wife, than tied to a chair ? - he tried again.

-You stink, and no, what wife? Also, there is no service in this place, as well as no sign of it in any maps, not even the governments secret ones. The thing is, if i'd let you go, and you'd kill me, you'd kill the only person knowing the way back. Without me you'd die here anyway.

-Enjoying being important huh? - he said as he felt himself harden at your confidence. You really did think of everything. He knew so little of you, practically nothing, yet he felt himself falling harder by the minute.

-Damn you need a shower. - you said as you saw his state from the night before. You put a knife to his throat as you untied his legs, and lead him towards the shower.

-Don't try anything prettyboy, be thankful i let you shower. - you said. He suddenly brought his tied hands over your head, caging you into the corner of the showers, his member poking your stomach as he leaned in close to kiss you.

-Thank you. - he said as he continued his kisses, as he grinded into you, making you whimper.

You shakily let your hand wander around his abs, down to his member, stroking him up and down a few times, before turning around, letting him see you vunerable. He kissed inbetween your shoulderblades, before pushing into you, both moaning at the sensation. You could get used to this, you thought. He rammed into you at an unforgiving pace, as his tied hands grabbed a hanful of your hair, yanking it back. It was a bliss, and you never wanted it to end. When you both came down from your highs, he clened you up, best as he could with tied hands, and you helped him as well. As a finishing move, you cut the ties on his hands. Earning a look from him.

-If you didn't stangled me with them, you won't without them. - you shrugged, before stepping out of the shower.

-Where is this sudden trust coming from sweetheart? - he asked.

-No trust, i'm just tired. I want to quit. But by any means my only way to do so is dying. - you shoot him a sad smile.

He snaked a hand around your waist, and another under your chin to make you look up at him.

-Why would you say such a thing?

-I'm nothing more than a secret asset Lloyd.

-What are you saying, we eliminated every but one of the sierras and you're certainly not seem like that ken boy. - he said not understanding.

-Yes the top secret papers do tell of ten sierras. There is one, the eleventh that noone ever seen, saw, heard of. Not even Fitzroy saw me. I was chosen, brought here. Trained. I have no way to contact anyone. The missions come with the food supply, i am to eliminate targets, retrieve information and packages without anyone ever seeing me. I also should've murder you in your sleep back on the plane. - you said as you twisted yourself out of his hold, and went to the corner kitchen in the basement. Starting to make coffee.

-Look sweetheart, i don't care about that. We could.. we could just stay here and i don't know. forget about it all. What do you say? i have more than enough money to last several lifetimes. - he said as he put you up to the counter,separating your legs to stand between them.

He leaned down, and licked a fat strip over your slit, making you moan instantly.

-I'll take that as a yes. - he said, as he picked you up, and shoved you down his cock, before kissing you. He brought you to the bed, tossing you in it before diving in after you...

Life could be worse..

#lloyd hansen #chris evans #the gray man #the gray man fanfiction #lloyd hansen x reader #fanfic

[sublimenol]

Sonic Villain OCs!

So I've peddled about Deirdre a lot, but in her little AU world, I've got several villains that are her recurring baddies. I wrote up a few profiles on them for anyone interested for what bubbles at my headspace lately.

Gyre the Ibis

“My stratagems are sound. I simply need better soldiers.”

Gender: Male

Affiliation: Independent, Resistance(Formerly), Battle-Bird Armada(Formerly)

Description: Primary Color: White body. Orange-red masking around his eyes resembling goggles. Yellow beak. Fingertips are black feathers. Stylized take on an American White Ibis. Looks similar to Babylon Rogues. Lank, “Geek shaped”.

Wears a knee length, drab olive all weather coat buttoned up to his neck. Shoes are boot polish black. Attempts to look imposing and militaristic and serious.

Weapon of Choice: Gyre has a reprogrammed Valkeen that he brings out if he feels there is going to be a threat to his person. He prefers to keep it hidden to call it in should he need to escape.

Personality: Gyre is a legend in his own mind. He is a tactical genius. He is a clear headed, rational thinker who knows how to make the tough calls. In his mind, every decision is one of cruel calculus that no one but him seems to be willing to do. He is surrounded by a world of tools and fools, how he treats others is based on where he decides they fall. On a positive side, he can be cunning and prudent and his ego is not borne of overconfidence. He knows when to fold ‘em should the situation turn against him.

Background: Gyre’s background is simple. He grew in simple circumstances and found enjoyment in testing his mind against others; enjoying feeling superior and basking in adulation for his successes in education, games and glory. He did well in his small hamlet, and the taste of superiority led him to looking toward the Battle Bird Armada as his chance to become a figure of greatness. He learned quickly that he was a small fish in a very big pond. Unable to move upward, he stewed until Eggman’s conquest smashed through the Armada, GUN, and most of the world. Gyre took his chance and took leave of the Armada, cutting loose and escaping with his hide.

From there, he joined the resistance, inflating his military background for leverage. It did not take long for the Resistance to push back his influence. Much of his grand strategy was to expend as many resources as possible in order to secure any victory no matter how meaningless. He proved himself too willing to sacrifice others for the sake of scraps. He once again quickly found himself out of favor. Made worse when the war finally ended and the Resistance dissolved.

Gyre’s attention turned toward the scattered Eggman Empire. They could possibly use his intel, and his desire to get revenge on the Restoration for their slight to his ego. However, this plan was cut short by the Metal Virus. One of countless victims, in the aftermath Gyre determined the Eggman Empire to be just as much an enemy as every other power. He would not serve, he would command. He would finally work his way to becoming “General Gyre”. If he could only get good, loyal, proper soldiers as an army for his superior mind.

Boxcars the Badger

“Three rules in life; don’t apologize, don’t hold grudges, and always get while the getting’s good.”

Gender: Male

Affiliation: Gyre

Description: Tall and broad, little chunky. Upsized Sonic character model. Smithy or Tumble from IDW. Color pattern is the same as an American badger, though substitute the black for a very dark blue tone. Eyes are brown.

His wardrobe is minimal and standard for Sonic styled males. big simple brown boots and heavy cuffed gloves. Wears a newsie cap.

Weapon of Choice: Generally his hands. When he feels serious, he slips on a pair of narrow, thick knuckledusters.

Personality:  Boxcars is a genial, emotionally intelligent guy. Genuinely friendly and outgoing, he is loud, almost always presenting good humor and quick to laugh a deep belly laugh. This is no lie, nor a ruse. However, Boxcars is also a deeply self-interested person and a consummate survivor. He does what he wants, as he wants, and he’s quick to get out whenever things possibly present too much of a threat. He is an outlaw because it allows him a good fight and a degree of freedom that he craves. Particularly so because he can trust heroic types to always pull punches in ways that more murderous villains do not. Prone to using pet names(Sweetheart, Sunshine, etc) in lieu of names because he never really wants to get too close to people.

Background: Boxcars keeps a lot of his past close to his chest, so most of the detail is not well known. He is originally from Central City and while he didn’t have much to his name, he was always a little bigger and tougher than everyone around him. He learned young that he could leverage that into getting what he wanted through leveraging size and through learning to enjoy a good fight if his target had more mettle than he expected. At times he worked with others, other times he worked solo, but he was never much more than a pugnacious goon. And that was all well and good for him.

Crisis after crisis, Shattered Worlds and Eggman’s conquest, taught Boxcars how to survive while looking out for himself. He knew that groups like The Resistance would only be problems for him once the big threats went away, so he made it a point to keep a low profile and to live in the corners around the greater conflict. While he was a bruiser, he knew people liked you if you were friendly, which was easy for him to be. He never had anything against anyone, it was just that he enjoyed his lifestyle the way it was. He could live meager, and whenever things settled down, he would appear again.

Metal Virus was the same routine to Boxcars. When things went to hell, the badger went underground and out of the way. He maintains that he never once was in danger of being infected. Just another example of whenever the grave danger shows up, Boxcars’ puts his experience into making certain he can avoid having to deal with it as much as possible. Only in the aftermath did Gyre finally seek him out, looking to hire muscle for a robbery of some leftover Eggtech lab. Boxcars saw a predictable egotist, but not a threat. It would be a simple job to help the latest wannabe.

Cathode the Basenji

“. . .no.”

Gender: Female

Affiliation: Gyre

Description: A creamsicle orange canine with pointed ears and a tightly curled tail. Her eyes are a dark blue. She lacks any “head hair”, but has more fluff at the back of her neck to mimic longer ends.

Her outfit is overalls or a jumpsuit, usually tied at the waist, colored blue. 

Weapon of Choice: Homemade shock baton attached to a modified battery pack she carries at her hip.

Personality: Cathode is taciturn, focused, and curious. She consistently holds a high opinion of herself compared to others, primarily because of the high level of priority she places on things she considers “tangible”. Machines, mechanics, math, functional and provable skill are all things that she enjoys. Otherwise, she finds herself in insecure positions and insecure positions are, to her, to be avoided entirely. Other people, with their inconsistency and idiosyncrasies, are troublesome. Her desires are to get her hands on whatever kind of machinery or gear that the likes of Tails and Eggman have created so she can take them apart for her own study. 

Background: Born on a small, isolated island, Cathode’s interest in machines defined a lot of her formative years. She learned to fix and repair the shared equipment of her family and the few other families that shared their small rock of a home. With few other children, she spent most of her time with adults and functioned mostly as a set of hands to help out. Over time, she grew resentful despite her rapidly growing knowledge as the scarce resources and constant repair needs of the aging equipment meant that while she was invaluable, she wasn’t able to spread her wings and truly experiment and tinker.

The news of the great technological advances of Eggman astounded her. She craved getting her hands on those machines. She wanted nothing more than to dissect them, and to learn how they tick. But still she was kept from her desires by the short sighted, pragmatic minds of the others in her village. This bitter resentment was made all the worse when she heard about Tails and the young genius’ capabilities just reminded her of her own stolen opportunity. She blamed the others for needing her, demanding of her, and under the cover of night she slowly dismantled equipment around the island to cobble together a small boat in order to make her escape.

Unfortunately for Cathode, she arrived in Sunset City just in time for the Metal Virus to be dumped upon her.

In the aftermath, she has struggled to find footing. Her interests in getting ahold of Eggtech to dissect has required her to involve herself with shadier figures. When Gyre presented her with the opportunity to get ahold of the real deal, possibly without battle damage, Cathode could hardly pass that up.

Pierce the Wolf

“Every heart pleads for a “better world”, but no two minds can agree on a definition.”

Gender: Male

Affiliation: Eggman Empire

Description: A tall male wolf with leaner, pointier features than normal. Color is primarily a desaturated, pale blue, close to an off-white. He has a small scar on his right cheek underlining his eye Outfit is a standard red and black Eggman Empire uniform. He has an affectation of diamond stud cufflinks added to the uniform

Weapon of choice: Stiletto. One regular, a secondary spring assisted one hidden on his person. 

Personality: Broadly speaking, his personality and demeanor is malleable given the needs of the situation. He will be self effacing one moment, bragging the next. He will be cruel and calculating, or he will present the noblest of faces. Who he seems to be in a moment may not be the person he is in the next. The only truth is that Pierce cares only for himself and what furthers his own ambitions toward power. Everything else is a pawn or a player in the game of power. He is still an empathic person, however, that talent and honed skill is tuned primarily toward his enormous self-interest.

Background: Pierce is from a long standing family of leaders on a small, cold island chain. He was the latest to inherit the charge of his town, having taken over the unofficial but de facto role from his late parents. He found that town leadership was dull and ultimately limited, though he continued with it as was his duty. The global assault by Eggman, however, rocked the wolf’s world deep to the core. He saw in that moment just how small everything around him was. He saw that all he could accomplish was leading a tiny series of specks that were nothing more than crumbs for the real giants to clean up. And he wanted to be one of those giants.

Eggman’s swift success told him plainly that the Empire was the faction in which to throw his lot. It was not difficult to convince his people that it was the best idea. That they were small and not noticeable. Some he promised that they would be overlooked. Some he promised industrial potential in the new Empire. And soon he had followers behind his plan. A false show of support toward GUN. They were struck quickly and Pierce promised their small fishing villages would be safe for them to hide and recover from the devastation. Only to swiftly turn on them, envelop, and claim GUN materiel and hostages for himself. All a present to appease Eggman. His proposal worked well enough. Eggman wasn’t going to be impressed by GUN soldiers or technology, but the kind of social skills and cutthroat cunning could be useful for future endeavors. That said, Eggman also knew that Pierce needed to be separated from his home, and from easily manipulated flesh and blood soldiers as well. Pierce was made an offer, but it would cost him his people and home. Pierce only delayed responding as to not appear too eager.

Pierce found himself repositioned and given a small base of operations and a contingent of badniks. His goal would be to seed himself in the region in preparation for a new invasion. One that would be curtailed when the metal virus infected the world. And while he recovered, he knew then that Eggman was not going to be the one to lose this war in the end. The Doctor was simply too capable in an emergency to be counted on losing. If anything, it told Pierce that his decisions to become and remain an Egg Boss was the right one.

Once again he is returned to his base, still chafing under the provisions given to him by Eggman. He knows he is being watched and controlled. That he is a pawn in a greater game. But he has time. And he has patience. And when he looks out from the window of his quarters, he can see the sparkling lights of the city that is his prey.

#sonic oc #deirdre #Sonic OC Lore #Writing #OC profiles

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Pulp Fiction

This is the pulpiest of pulp, with cheesy action, retro effects, and comically evil goons.

A note: many pulp action films carry harmful themes, such as racial caricatures and misogyny. These games do not have to be played within those tropes; in fact, many of them explicitly disavow these themes. However, you might still find elements of 80’s action movies fun to play with, such as cheesy violence, overly-dramatic backstories, and characters with way too many powers to be believable. 

Feng Shui 2, by Atlas Games.

Ancient sorcerers. Slick conspirators. Control freak monks. Cyborg apes.

Armed with the secrets of Feng Shui, all aim to conquer the past, present, and future.

Only you have the guts, guns, and flying feet to stop them!

It’s back in all its explodey, chi-blasting glory — Feng Shui, the classic game of Hong Kong–inspired cinematic action — refurbished with a fresh bag full of ammo for a new roleplaying generation! Original designer Robin D. Laws rushes your way on a bullet-riddled gurney to serve up the thrills fans remember, furiouser and faster than ever.

Feng Shui 2 gives you oodles and oodles of character options - 36 to be precise. As a game about time travel, magic, technology and action, your character could span from an ancient martial artist, to a scrounge-tech cyborg from the future. Each character comes with advancement options, five stat blocks, skills, special attacks and abilities called schticks. The schticks are where strategy will come in, as you’ll have enough to give you options, although you may have few enough resources to make each opportunity to act a strategic decision. You’ll establish a character concept and a melodramatic hook to figure out your personality and backstory, and after that, you’re ready to play! 

Spirit of 77, by MonkeyFun Studios.

Hey there, all you boppers! Get ready for slam-bang action and high octane excitement with Spirit of 77 - the 1970’s pop culture RPG that turns up the volume and never slows down! Kung-fu tough guys, good old boy truckers, starry-eyed rockers and hardboiled sleuths, all jam-packed into one funky, easy to learn game system that's Powered by the Apocalypse.

This is a self-described retro-alternative game, pulling from film noir, samurai stories, and blaxploitation films. As a PbtA game, it’s designed to really evoke genre, and boy does it evoke genre. There’s even game master advice that recommends that the GM (or, as the book calls them, DJ) arrange a playlist for specific moments within the game. This is a game of goofy, cheesy fun with over-the-top stunts and slick characters.

Atomic Robot: The Roleplaying Game, by Evil Hat.

Action! Science! Robots! Punching! More Science!

Are you ready for some two-fisted science adventure? Then it's time for the Atomic Robo RPG! Have you ever wanted to face down global conspiracy as an immortal atomic robot or Carl Sagan? The Atomic Robo RPG makes it possible.

The Atomic Robo RPG brings you the most explosive Fate Core System experience yet. This is action science like you've never seen it before, coming straight at you from the pages of the popular Atomic Robo comics by Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegener. Play as an Action Scientist or immortal robot, super-spy or pulp adventurer—or something stranger still from the hidden corners of super-science!

This game includes the core concepts of Fate, so everything you need is in one book. While Fate games are always pretty open-ended, Atomic Robo provides a lot of signatures that can help make a cohesive character group that makes sense within the fiction. There’s also an additional part of your character in this game that isn’t found in other Fate games - Modes, or broad areas of skills to help you figure out where your character is competent. You could be strong or weak in Action, Banter, Intrigue, or Science! You don’t need to be familiar with the comics to be able to play this game - there’s enough information in Chapter 1 to help you hit the ground running! 

Straight to VHS, by Lost Cat Games.

A werewolf stalks the mean streets of Miami, but not for much longer. Not if a nun (and former prostitute) named Gloria Vendetta has anything to say about it. Gloria’s cybernetically enhanced buddy in the precinct notices ties between the werewolf and the Yakuza, but why? If only the scientist (and retired heavyweight champion) Tucker Smash could regain his memories. Only he knew the antidote to lycanism, and now the plague spreads. 

This game is absolutely bonkers, in the best way possible.It doesn’t just pull from pulp 80’s movies - it pulls from cheesy 80’s movies, with wacky premises and characters that feel almost like Mary Sues. The core idea of Straight to VHS is that the characters are a combination of two tropes: a werewolf cop, a vampire hobo, a magical animal that’s also a spy, etc, etc. Much of the game is flavoured to cast your character as an actor; with range described as how close you are to the camera, while the GM is called the Director. One of my favourite pieces of this game is the character trope Paid Sponsor - you can shamelessly plug your product once per scene to give your allies advantages throughout the game.

Shadow of the Century, by Evil Hat. 

Totally rad 1980s action... TO THE MAX!

Enter a world of 1980s action adventure with Shadow of the Century, a robust setting and supplement for Fate Core.

The year is 1984, and the Shadows run the world. The Century Club has been disbanded, the Spirits of yesteryear driven underground—only to rise up alongside new wave heroes to stick it to the man!

Fight the good fight in a gonzo game of underdog heroes set against the forces of oppression everywhere. Join kung fu masters, computer hackers, maverick cops, and more to right wrongs and prevent the darkest Shadows from ending reality as we know it.

Shadow of the Century is the spiritual successor to Spirit of the Century, a game about action fiction in the 1940’s. In Spirit, characters are powerful protagonists punching cartoonish villains and saving the day in fantastical locales. In Shadow, the tables have turned, and your protagonists are working against corrupted powers-that-be, doing their best to save the world undercover while also keeping their loved ones safe. Both of these games use the Fate system, and are critically acclaimed. 

198X, by Sean. M. Dunstan.

IN A WORLD where gangs rule the streets and the police are helpless...

IN A WORLD where the rich buy and sell people's lives in the name of profit...

IN A WORLD where scientists push the boundaries of physics for their own benefit...

IN A WORLD where unknown threats can come from any world, any time, any dimension...

All that stands between the innocents of the city of Los Accíon and the forces of evil...is you. 

The mysterious Mr. X has gathered a force of brave men and women who live on the cutting edge of action to stop the forces of evil! Prepare yourself. Lock and load. Ready your kung fu. Protect your dreams. And get ready...to fight back.

A game of 80s action movie mayhem built using the 24XX system created by Jason Tocci, this game is streamlined for a quick pick-up-and-play experience.  24XX games use different kinds of dice to reflect your skills - are you good at a skill? Bump your d6 up to a d8 or a d10. Are you particularly bad at a skill? Downgrade to a d4. You’ll get a specialty, a backstory, and some cash to spend on special gear. After that the GM rolls on a bunch of random tables, and you’re ready to go.

#dnd #game recommendations #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #pulp action

[riflewounds]

Whumptober, day 26 | No One Left Behind ("Why did you save me?")

He'd been left alone here. No food or water for a second day in a row and the pain gnawing at his legs and twisting his gut only grew with each passing hour. The ground was cold, too, but he was thankful he wasn't forced to keep sitting on that god-awful chair.

He barely slept at night. Shallow and short stays in the warm darkness, only about two hours at a time. He woke up - repeatedly - at boots passing by the door. 

Rabid hounds of war, doing what their masters wanted of them, to rip and tear and torture.

Soft thumps down the hall. Muffled screams. Gunshots. Durant perked up, as much as his broken body would allow.

Many boots racing down the hall, hushed words speaking of an intruder, some lanky man with a gun.

Wait, is it--

"Left side, left side," came a muffled yell from the hall.

Durant counted two shots right after. Followed by a nice little burst from the two men close by the door. Three more shots. From further away. At least one hit because there was a piercing scream just outside the door. Followed by more panicked words he couldn't quite make out through the haze of pain.

Another shot, quick retaliation of several three-round bursts, and two more single shots from a different gun.

A rifle clattered to the ground. Faint gurgles just in the hallway.

Deathly silence. No barks of gunfire, just the buzzing in his head and some disgusting sinking feeling.

Could it be his boss? Maybe, but this didn't sound like him Precise, yes, maybe a little too much for the man himself. Did he hire someone? To soften up those contractor fuckers, so he can then sweep in and claim all the glory? 

He would've laughed if not for the piercing pain in his ribs. Fuchs had the resources, he had people, it wouldn't be unlike him to hire some extra help for the job.

He could afford the extra bodies.

And he could afford to find a different loyal gun, puppy.

Different gunman to fill his place. Take over his role of the loyal bodyguard willing to sacrifice limb and life. 

Even if the guy was a dick.

Durant couldn't hear a single sound aside from his quick ragged breaths. He'd grown a little accustomed to the pain, but his legs felt full of red-hot knives slicing away at his flesh. 

He stilled once he heard those footsteps in the hallway. Light, so vastly different from the steel-toed boots that ran through the hall only minutes ago. No, these were loafers, a light blend of leather and vulcanized rubber. Tap, tap, tap, the sound was closing in, until the door handle moved and Durant stilled completely.

Either it's Fuchs, or someone else. 

He blinked as the door swung open. Silver glint of a Beretta. Muzzle trained right at him, before it wavered and pointed towards the ground as the man's hands fell. 

"Durant?" 

He... came back for him...

"H-Hey," he rasped, breaking into a little cough at the sudden motion. Too deep of an exhale. His ribs still ached, stabbing pain clawing at his lung with every cough.

Broken ribs had nothing on two shattered femurs...

Fuchs slipped his gun away for the moment, taking long, hasty strides towards his gunman. "We don't have much time before the rest of those jack-booted fucks come down here."

Durant estimated they had ten minutes at most. Realistically, it's less. A lot less.

More like five minutes. 

Fuchs kneeled beside him, took a pair of wire cutters to the zip ties binding the gunman's wrists. "Let's get out of here."

Two snips, and the pressure at his wrist was gone. Durant flexed his hands, splayed his palm, curled his fingers into a tight fist before he loosened them. But just as quickly as the pressure was relieved, Fuchs was already hooking his arm around the gunman, about to lift him up.

"No no no, wait, wa--"

Then the bones in his leg shifted and he screamed loud enough to wake the dead. That piercing, blood-curdling wail--

"Shut up!" 

--he screamed until his lungs seized with lack of air.

"For fuck's sake just shut up!" 

Followed by desperate lungfuls of that precious, precious air, cut shallow by his broken battered ribs, fingers curling against the floor and nails scratching away at whatever was under his hands.

Please god make it stop, make it stop, make it stop--

"Oh shit--" 

Darkness blotted out his sight, drowned out every sound, his body was sagging into that painless warm void, but he was plucked out of those deep dark waters only moments later. Sweaty. Back against the bumpy ground, his entire body ached and throbbed and his guts were twisting into tight knots under the strain.

"Fuchs..."

Moist eyes, dry throat. He could only croak as he twisted on the ground. 

His boss fell quiet, just looking at his gunman, unsure what to do next. Barely touching him, just lightly resting two fingers on Durant's shoulder.

"I took a couple guys with me, they're waiting outside." Fuchs spoke, considerably more gentle than only minutes ago, "I need you to stay quiet."

Quiet, huh? Durant wasn't sure it was even possible. "Then gimme drugs. Or knock me out. Please."

Desperate words, quiet urgency. This would go a lot smoother if he wasn't screaming with every little movement. Even now, even when he was lying completely still, Durant was only hairs away from screaming his lungs out. Words didn't come to him as easily as they usually did either, they came mangled and incoherent through the haze of pain. "My legs are fucked. Broken. Fuckers broke my legs."

"Yeah, I figured."

Then he could've-- he could've stopped sooner!

"And since you can't stand up, I'm gonna have to drag you."

Fine, fucking fine, "Just get on with it," Durant grumbled. Impatient, frustrated, anxious. Conflicting feelings mixing into some horrible painful mess. "You gonna give me something, or we goin' raw?" 

"Raw."

God-- he swallowed. Every little bit of motion of his legs plunged him into throes of agony so intense he could no longer keep conscious.

Fuchs produced a single tie, he folded it in half twice, and brought it down to the gunman's chin. "Here, bite this."

And he did. Fuchs positioned it between Durant's teeth, and he bit down on it. It'd help, even if just a little. 

"Alright."

White and orange hues of pain. It felt as if legs were being torn apart, pulled off his body like he was some insect. 

Paralyzed. Eyes blown wide open, he was stiff as a board and his body tried to screech, yet breath halted in his throat, it wouldn't budge, nerves overloaded with this unspeakable agony. 

He couldn't take it. Couldn't do it. As if rigor mortis had set in while he was still alive.

Durant could hear a word, quiet and mangled in the haze, a single "Finally" as the gunman slipped under.

#whumptober2022 #no.26 #no one left behind #why did you save me #OC #fic #a bunch of these whumptober entries are out of chronological order #but there is a storyline happening #i should make a masterlist with these in chronological order