#he is still the terrifying thirteen year old middle aged assassin we know and love. its just more dangerous for him lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lemon-trap · 3 years

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Hayley Irwin bio

Author’s note: If any of y’all (not many) wanted to know more about my oc Hayley that has showed up before in some of my writing then this is the place for you! (I’m sorry that it’s so long and also about the long paragraphs because tumblr is stupid) I also dedicate this post to @sisi-halloway (I’m so sorry this took so long hun). And there are some parts that are not really accurate but dramatized.

Name: Hayley Irwin

Pronouns: She/her

Age: 22

Birthday: November 3rd

Love interest: Muriel or Asra but it would be very interesting to see her with the others.

Familiar: Snow leopard

Appearance: Hayley is just a few inches shorter than Julian. Her skin tone is almond. She has dark brown hair that drops down to the middle of her back but she usually keeps it in a high ponytail. Her eyes are amber and I love them, they are usually the first things that people notice about her. Her body is fit and flexible. She has many scars on her body including the one on her face but we’ll get to that one in a bit.

Favorite colors: black, green, and sometimes yellow

Favorite flower: gladiolus

Favorite drink: tea

Favorite food: soup or dumplings

Favorite hobbies: she likes to dance

Skills: fighting, dancing, sword fighting, gymnastics, and knows many languages

Place of birth: somewhere really cold and full of mountains

Father: Noah Irwin

Mother: Viktoria Irwin

Sister: Alice Irwin

Backstory:

Hayley was born into a wealthy and happy family. Her earliest memories are of a happy childhood full of laughter and loving parents, little did she know. Noah and Viktoria Irwin were apart of a community of rich old people who thought it was their right to control the world around them. They did this by creating a school decades before Hayley was born, a school for Elite Girls, but this wasn’t a normal boarding school. It was a school for highly trained assassins.

Hayley was too young to know any of this but every family who was apart of this wealthy group had to ‘donate’ their first daughter to the Elite School for Girls. Hayley was a first child and her happy childhood abruptly ended when she was thirteen. In the middle of a dark moonless night Hayley was grabbed from her bed and dragged kicking and screaming out of her house with her parents basically waving her off. The next day was Hayley’s first day of hell. Hayley was scared and confused. She didn’t know where she was or why. Everyone was so mean.

Hayley soon adapted and her grades were high from the fear of what would happen to her if they weren’t. Eventually the classes got tougher and stranger like survival tactics and gymnastics. She was top of her class in each one still. She was aware that the school had their eyes on her. They would stand in the back of the room as she did her flips and stretches. Then she was given fighting classes and there was no room for failure there. Everyday she would return to her room beaten and exhausted but she never gave up and the bruises lessened with each day. Now she was giving her punches to someone else. By this point she knew what the school was really about, she wasn’t dumb. She noticed how some of the older girls would go missing for days then return with bullet wounds or they would never return at all. One day the principal of the school came up to her, she was an old woman that had seen many things and she smiled like she was going to hurt you, she said that Hayley was special and could go on a secret mission that required her help. The principal made Hayley feel special and worthless at the same time.

Hayley agreed, believing that she was ready to face a mission. Boy was she wrong. At first everything was okay, no alarms were triggered and no guards had seen her. Then when she got cocky, Hayley tripped and yelped which caught the guards attention and they chased her out of the building, shooting at her. Miraculously, Hayley survived and was able to get back to the school. She went to the nurses office immediately because she was bleeding heavily. While she was giving the principal her mission report, the principal got angrier with every word Hayley said until she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

The principal shoved the nurse out of the way just as she was stitching up a wound and the principal pushed Hayley against the medical table. The principal called for more people as she grabbed a pair of giant scissors. Hayley struggled, fearing the worse, but she couldn’t get away from the hands covering her body. She was so surrounded, covered by suffocating hands, and terrified. Hayley screamed but nothing could stop them from cutting her lips off. Her struggling was her worst enemy at that moment because it caused the cuts to be worse and more rough. Hayley fainted from loss of blood and fear.

When she woke up she thought they’d only take her lips but her throat hurt, badly. She struggled to stand but she got out of her bed and walked to the mirror in her bathroom. Hayley almost fainted again from the sight she saw in the mirror. Her lips, now replaced by many stitches and her front teeth were visible from the disappearance of her lips. She continued to look at herself and saw a bandage around her neck, she ripped it off desperately trying to find out what happened. Underneath that bandage was a newly stitched scar that crossed her neck. She tried to scream but nothing came out, not even a peep. Hayley then let herself cry, I’d been so long since she let herself cry.

It wasn’t long before the school told her to get back to work. She was given permission to wear a face mask but only sometimes. Sometimes she would be used by the teachers as an example of failure, as the center of attention. She hated when everyone’s eyes were on her. After what happened, she was determined to never make another mistake again. Hayley focused solely on her skills and her job. She became top of her classes once again. She gave her all to her missions and the missions took pieces of her. All she was was her job. All that mattered was her mission and she was just replaceable figure.

Years later, she was given a mission like any other. Kill a ruthless count? As if she hasn’t done that before. Many people wanted this count dead and that included the rich people who funded Hayley’s school. She slipped through the crowds as soon as she landed in Vesuvia, everyone in the city were too busy talking about the masquerade to notice her.

The masquerade was her perfect cover. It was too crowded inside so she decided to wait outside for this perfect moment. Once she got into position, she heard the most heart wrenching scream she’d ever heard. It echoed throughout the castle. Hayley rushed in her full sneak gear to see what had happened. Then she saw it. The fire.

Hayley had never seen a brighter fire but then she recognized the room it came from. It came from the count’s room. Hayley’s head began to fill with thoughts, thoughts of what would happen if she were to return to her school. She had failed her mission and she wasn’t able to kill him and the school would have her head if they knew what happened.

Then the only thought she had was to run and she did. She didn’t know what she was running from but she felt like running from her mistakes. She ran across rooftops in Vesuvia even after her legs began to ache. Hayley didn’t see the loose roof and it was too late when she did because once she stepped on it, she fell right through the weak wood. Falling three stories down and landing on her leg.

Thankfully she was alive but her leg was definitely broken. She tried to walk on it but couldn’t so she just sat there hoping no one would find her, a small voice inside her even hoping she would die from the blood loss. Then a figure started walking down the dark alley, Hayley tried to stand up desperately and she did right before passing out from the pain. The last thing she saw was a head full of white hair.

When she woke up, she was in a strange place. There were colorful tapestries covering the walls, weird pillows beneath her, and the room smelled like flowers. She then remembered her injury and looked down at her leg, seeing that it was rapped in bandages and had two pieces of wood on each side to keep it together. Hayley heard movement in the other room and tried to grab one of her knifes but they were all gone so she grabbed a pair of scissors and pointed it at the person coming in the room.

The person threw his hands up in the air, he had white poofy hair that reminded Hayley of cotton.

“Hey, hey, there’s no need for that,” he said calmly, “So if you could just put the scissors down we can talk.”

Hayley continued to point the knife at him, clearly not in the right mindset. She stared at this strange person and he stared back then she slowly lowered the scissors but didn’t let go of them.

“Okay, that’s good, we’re improving,” his smile was bright, “I brought you tea and new bandages. Can I give them to you?”

This was odd for Hayley, no one ever asked her anything like that. She nodded. The person approached slowly, “This is for you,” he lifted a cup of liquid to Hayley, “It’s a tea that will help your wounds heal.”

Hayley grabbed the cup but didn’t drink it.

“Maybe you’re not a tea person, I get it,” he waved his hands, “Oh, yeah, my name is Asra.” He lifted his hand for her to shake but she didn’t. That didn’t seem to bother him.

“Could you tell me your name?” Asra asked and Hayley shook her head. “Can I put new bandages on you?”

Hayley had never met anyone that asked this many questions. She looked down at her broken leg then looked back at Asra and shook her head. She couldn’t trust this man, she couldn’t trust anyone.

“Are you going to do them yourself?” Asra asked as he laughed nervously but stopped when Hayley nodded, “You can’t be serious.”

Hayley nodded once again and grabbed the bandages and began to take off the bloody ones. Asra stood in the back of the room and watched as Hayley replaced her bandages, amazed and worried how she could do that without making a noise from the pain. When she was done he grabbed the bloody bandages and threw them away.

“I don’t know who you are or how you turned up in an alleyway with a broken leg but I want you to get better,” Asra confused Hayley, what game was he playing?

“I promise you, with my whole heart, that I will not harm you nor will you be harmed in this house.” Asra placed his hand over his heart and smiled kindly, “As long as you don’t harm me.”

Hayley’s whole body stopped.......what? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. He wanted to.....help her? Who is this person?

They stared into each other’s eyes, Asra waiting for her answer. Hayley nodded slowly, believing that she would regret this decision someday.

“Great, you can stay in my bed. I’ll take the couch, don’t worry, it’s more comfortable than it looks.” Asra grinned before heading out the room.

Hayley was still shocked and....hopeful. She hadn’t felt that in a while. For the first time in years, Hayley relaxed her shoulders and fell back on the fluffy pillows, she felt safe.

Overtime, Asra gained her trust by acts of kindness that one by one broke down Hayley’s steel walls that she was trained to keep around her at all times. Hayley didn’t speak anything for the longest time before giving Asra a quiet ‘thank you’ in sign language, Asra had smiled back and signed ‘you’re welcome’. Hayley learned more about Asra by the way he lived and talked. She liked to watch him move around the kitchen as he brewed up some interesting things, he’d hum to himself a tune Hayley didn’t recognize and his movements were loose unlike Hayley’s.

Asra taught her a thing about magic too, she’d never gotten into it as her school thought it was too ‘unpredictable’ but Hayley was happy to know a spell or two. Asra taught her many other things than magic or how to make tea, he taught her how to live her own life. Hayley told Asra vaguely of what happened to her and she told him about how they took her voice away but she didn’t go into detail. He would look sad and give Hayley a hug if she wanted one.

The first time Hayley cried in front of Asra was when a spell went wrong. She’d been working hard to perfect this spell and Asra believed she could do it but something went wrong and the spell almost blew up the house. Thankfully, no one was harmed except maybe the ceiling. Hayley still couldn’t handle that she got it wrong and started freaking out, crying immediately no matter how much she tried not to. Asra was quick to tell her that it was okay but it didn’t help as all her pushed down emotions just came out as soon as the first tear fell down, like a dam that burst from a little rain. Asra sat with Hayley for the longest time, comforting her as she cried her heart out. Hayley had never been so open with someone and when the tears died down, Asra smiled and told her that she had nothing to worry about in his home. He didn’t care about her mistakes or if she wasn’t perfect. He’d even told her about some of his mistakes, like not being there for the people he loved or some doctor that he used to love. Somehow, that made Hayley feel better. Even made her feel amusement when he told her about how stupid he was when he was younger. Asra taught her that people can make mistakes, even Hayley, because we’re all human.

Hayley became very close with Asra, even one day she showed him what was under her mask.

It was late, Asra and Hayley just got done making a very late dinner. As Hayley watched Asra move around the kitchen, humming to himself once again, a thought that had been bothering her for quite some time came back to her. She waited until he came over and sat down next to her as they waited for the food to cool down. Hayley tapped him gently on the shoulder to get his attention then she had began to sign, his small smile dropping only a little from her words.

“I want to show you what is under my mask.” Hayley signed.

Asra shook his head, “You don’t need to.” He signed back.

“I want to.” Hayley was quiet after that.

Asra sat up, “Are you sure?” He signed.

Hayley nodded, “I trust you.” She said before raising her hand to the back of her ears where the straps of her mask stayed. Hayley hesitated but pulled them off slowly anyway.

Asra’s body tensed and his face immediately fell into worry. He continued to say nothing, Hayley felt the most vulnerable under his eyes.

“Oh, Hayley.” Asra actually spoke, his voice so sincere and barely a whisper.

She then felt her eyes water and break loose, she dropped her head on Asra’s shoulders and he immediately wrapped his arms around her. She cried into his shoulders, feeling like a monster. A weak and ugly monster. But she still trusted Asra to understand her pain and suffering. This person that she would have probably killed if they had met on different circumstances. His silence worried her. He had leaned his head against her head, she found his silent company to be very comforting but at this moment all she really wanted was to know was his thoughts.

“Thank you, for trusting me. I know it’s hard,” Asra said into her hair, “To be so honest.”

Hayley almost shook her head, she should be thanking him for everything. Safety, comfort, and love. All the things he taught her were okay to have.

She continued to wet his shirt with her tears, unknowingly gripping his sleeve.

Asra rubbed her arm, soothing her through this tough moment.

“I’m always here for you.” Asra whispered as if it was a secret.

Hayley loosened her grip on his sleeve and sat up, embarrassed by the wet stain she left in his shirt. Asra didn’t care about that because he continued to look at Hayley but he wasn’t looking at her scar but instead her eyes. She had never seen him so serious.

“They’ll never be able to hurt you again,” he smiled, “Not as long as I’m here.”

Hayley believed him and put her mask back on.

Hayley was never sure of how to think outside of her school. She was never given much freedom of thought, this was all new to her. What outfit to wear that day? Whatever she wanted. What to eat? Anything her heart desires. The freedom of choice was so thrilling. Being able to say yes or no was amazing. Asra was all about freedom of choice. He didn’t care if she walked around in a jesters outfit, as long as she was being herself but she never really knew what “herself” was.

One day, Hayley and Asra were walking through a rough part of Vesuvia. Hayley had asked previously if he could show her around, knowing that someone who had lived there their whole life was a good guide. She wanted to see every part of Vesuvia.

Suddenly they heard a scared scream from not too far. Hayley’s instinct took over her and she ran to the noise, Asra not far behind. She turned and turned, looking for who screamed then she glanced down one alley to see two figures. One of which was pointing a knife at the other who was a woman that Hayley had guessed was the one that screamed.

What upset Hayley the most was the way this thug’s hands were on the woman. His hand pressed up against her mouth as the other hand held the knife right in front of her stomach all while he was pushing her against a brick wall. Hayley saw the desperation in the woman’s eyes, how she kept looking around for someone to help her. Hayley needed to help her.

She grabbed the man by the shoulder and slammed him against another wall, it wasn’t enough to knock him out but she got his attention. The thug was angry, he spat curses at Hayley before lunging at her with his knife. She dodged it easily, the guy’s movements were slow and sloppy. She thought about how her school would have punished him for his movements but she shook those thoughts out of her head and hit the knife out of his hand. He stopped, surprised, giving Hayley a perfect opportunity to hit him square in the jaw, knocking him cold before he even hit the ground.

The alleyway was quiet as Asra and the woman from before stared at Hayley in amazement. Shit. She didn’t think about this. She hadn’t wanted anybody to learn about her skills.

“Thank you.....” Hayley looked up to the woman after she said that. The woman was smiling wide, most likely from relief, but her eyes were still cautious of what happened to her.

Hayley shrugged it off and turned to Asra.

“Can you ask her where she lives so we can take her home?” She signed to him.

Asra nodded and made his way to the woman, calming her while also asking where she lived. Hayley leaned her body against the dirty wall, her adrenaline still making its waves over her. She hadn’t had a rush like that since before she met Asra, she felt different now. She was confused, this new feeling was weird.

They returned the woman home safely. On their way home, Asra didn’t say a word. Not until they got home.

“You led quite the life before me.” He said as he dropped his bag on their kitchen table.

Hayley was silent. She didn’t know what to say. ‘Yeah, I’m a very good assassin. I could kill you and no one would find out.’ She shook that thought out of her head, she didn’t wanna think about that.

“You did a good thing protecting that woman today,” Asra’s voice lowered, “You have a good heart.” Asra finally looked at Hayley, seeing her staring right at him. For a moment, it was just them. Quietly standing apart and understanding each other.

Asra smiled, “Goodnight, Hayley,” he said right before heading to his room, leaving Hayley to stand alone.

That day stayed on her mind, she thought about it a lot. The way the woman was so happy, something about that look on her face wanted Hayley to make everyone happy. She couldn’t leave the thought alone. It plagued her. One day, she decided to do something. Something that she wanted to keep a secret.

Hayley had dug through her closet to the very back where her assassin outfit and her weapons sat. She had doubts the entire time she was putting it on. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she stopped. It still fit. After all this time. Her heart felt heavy when she looked at herself. She didn’t feel like herself, she felt like a silent assassin whose only purpose was to kill.

You aren’t what you’re school made you.

Asra’s words crossed her head. Suddenly she gained some confidence, realizing that Asra was right. She wasn’t a byproduct of her school. She was Hayley. A girl who likes playing the piano and making jokes with her friend. A girl who was eager to help people. She walked out her bedroom that used to be a storage room before Asra cleaned it out for her. Hayley glided across the floor, careful not to make any noise. Passing by Asra’s room, she saw the lights from his crystals underneath his door. Those were the lights he put on to sleep to.

She hesitated at his door. Should she tell him? Would he understand? She didn’t know but she did know that she had to test her theory tonight. Hayley slipped out the back door and into the street. It was basically midnight and even now the city was alive but not as much as it was in the day.

The shadows were her friends, letting her hide in the darkness. She glided through the shadows. She was looking for trouble, to simplify it. She definitely found it. A group of thugs were stealing supplies from a store that Hayley knew was controlled by a small business. That’s what made her want to do this even more.

She started with the ones farther from the group just like she was taught to do but this wasn’t for whatever pleased her old school, this was for the better.

Everything was going well until one of the ones she thought she knocked out, shouted for his friends. Hayley thought of how living with Asra had softened her punches.

The rest of them came over to her, surrounding her. She cracked her knuckles right before kicking all their asses.

They landed their punches here and there but in the end Hayley was alright even if she was exhausted.

She had tied them up for the palace knights to find them on their morning runs then she jumped on a roof and went looking for more danger.

Once she got home she was tired and the sun had just touched the edge of the horizon. She went through the back door again feeling sore all over.

As soon as she closed the door to her room, she heard Asra opening his.

She took off her outfit and shoved it back at the bottom of her closet. Wrapping her injuries right before falling onto her bed. She felt thankful for such a soft bed and felt good about herself which didn’t happen often.

One of the other reasons she started her vigilante get up was because of the justice system. Ever since the Count’s death, the city of Vesuvia had gone even more down hill. The countess hadn’t been seen outside of the palace since the count’s death and the court was left to rule Vesuvia in her absence.

They were incredibly corrupt, letting off anyone who was caught committing a crime with just a slap on the wrist if they had enough money.

This had angered many of the city folk but no one could change anything. Hayley took action, beating the criminals to a bloody pulp but she never killed any of them.

It had been a month since Hayley had started fighting in disguise. The people of Vesuvia spread rumors about her or who she might be, all of them very different from the last.

She didn’t really like the names they gave her but the most popular one was “The Shadow”. It was okay, she wasn’t doing this from the fame. She thought it was her right to help the people and to maybe even make up for all the people she hurt in her past.

She didn’t like keeping it from Asra either. Hayley could tell that he knew that something was up but he never asked.

He would find out her truth eventually.

It was a night like any other, Hayley was out scouting the city for any assholes that needed to be taken down. It was almost time for her to return home but then she saw a group of thugs smashing a building that was now unrecognizable.

What really angered her about this group was that she had just beat them up the other day and they were already out on the streets wrecking havoc.

She didn’t think straight as she left her hiding spot and revealed herself to the group.

They all smiled when they saw her and Hayley then realized that they were trying to get her attention.

Well, they had it and they were gonna regret it.

Even though the group was bigger than any other she’d faced, she had no problem getting most of them down but after a while no matter how many she downed, she was still getting hit like crazy.

Then, when there were only a few left, Hayley was kicked through a window, getting stabbed with glass all over her back. It ripped through her clothing and pierced her skin, digging deep into her flesh.

Through the pain, she knocked out the rest of them and didn’t even bother tying them up as she immediately headed for home.

Hayley left a trail of blood as her back bled from the sharp glass digging into her skin. She held her arm against the walls of buildings as she headed home. She didn’t even bother going through the back door as she stumbled through the front, the sun was almost fully above the horizon.

She slumped against the door as soon as she shut it, careful not to touch her injuries. Her hands were covered with dry blood.

“Hayley?” Asra called from upstairs and a wave of relief washed over her.

The stairs creaked under his weight, “Where have you- Oh my gods!” Asra’s face immediately turned to worry as he ran up to Hayley, “What happened?”

Hayley tried to shrug but she immediately regretted it as pain filled her every nerve.

“Come on, let’s get you upstairs,” Asra said draping her arm over his shoulders and wrapping his arm around her waist.

They moved up the stairs, Asra basically dragging her up them since she could barely hold herself up, saying a quiet ‘sorry’ every time she hissed in pain.

Once they reached the second floor, Asra placed Hayley gently onto the couch.

“I’m going to get some things to help with this, just....please don’t die on me.” He said that last part quietly as he left the room.

It took everything in Hayley to not shut her eyes and fall asleep against the soft cushions.

Asra returned before she could convince herself and in his hands were many different things, most noticeable was the alcohol.

He knelt down beside Hayley, with hesitation on his face, “I think you need a doctor.”

Hayley shook her head, doctors asked too many questions.

Asra sighed and under his breath whispered, “If only Ilya was here.”

She tried to think of who that was but her thoughts were interrupted by Asra.

“I need to cut your shirt, is that okay?” He asked, understanding her need for privacy.

After a moment, Hayley nodded.

Her body went completely still as she heard the snipping of fabric.

“You might wanna get something to bite on,” Asra said quietly.

Hayley lifted herself up with one of her arms and with the other she ripped off her face mask, not caring about her insecurities at the moment.

She gripped her teeth against the thick fabric of the pillow that was underneath her.

“Here we go.....” Asra’s warm hand set itself on a part of Hayley’s back, she could feel the magic run through his hand and into her skin, suddenly she felt much better but the pain was still there.

She felt little pinches at her skin, what she assumed to be Asra taking out the smaller pieces.

Asra’s face was stern and focused as he gently pulled out the individual shards of glass, each one of them sticking to Hayley’s skin as it was pulled out. Her flesh gripped each piece of glass as it was pulled out of her skin.

A short time past in painful silence as Asra pulled out every single piece of glass.

“Okay, I think that’s all of them.” Asra’s voice was quiet, he sounded tired.

Hayley nodded against the pillow but knew that this was only the beginning, the alcohol still needed to be put on her skin.

Asra grabbed the liquor, knowing exactly what was next. He then hesitated again. Hayley knew that he was staring at her back, maybe at the fresh wounds or the old scars.

She moved her body enough to face Asra, taking him out of his trance. Hayley looked into his eyes, face mask off, she was completely vulnerable to him and she didn’t think for one second that he would betray her trust.

Asra sat back in thought then gave Hayley a small grin, “You owe me.” He joked.

Hayley rolled her eyes in amusement than lied back down on the couch.

His hand was still on her skin, it was nice to feel a comforting warmth for once while she was getting healed. This was so different from when she came back to her school after a mission, every time she was hurt she would fear that the school would do something to her and some times they did and sometimes they didn’t.

“Are you ready?” Asra interrupted her thoughts that she usually got caught up in.

Hayley poked her hand out and gave him a thumbs up before she tucked it back and around lifeline pillow.

She heard the bottle open, a part of her nervous but she shoved that back down with the rest of her hidden emotions.

“I’m sorry.” Asra says right before pouring the liquor on Hayley’s wounds.

White hot pain shot through Hayley’s nerves as the cold liquid interacted with her open skin, it felt as if her skin was burning.

Instinctively, Hayley opened her mouth to scream but, just like other times, nothing came out. She tried to push the pain back and think about something else but the harshness of the alcohol wouldn’t let her think of anything else.

All she could focus on was the warmth radiating from Asra’s hand, that kept her grounded.

Asra continued to drop the alcohol on her skin, careful not to add too much. He soon stopped after a tense moment, sat back down on his legs and said that he was done.

Hayley was still gripping the pillow, her skin feeling as if tiny burning knifes were stabbing into her flesh.

Asra sighed, clearly he was tired and Hayley didn’t know if it was from the early morning or from helping Hayley. She watched as he grabbed the bandages and prepared them for use.

“You’re staring.” He said quietly then looked up into Hayley’s eyes.

Hayley felt a pang of guilt from the face Asra gave her, his lips set in a tight line and his eyebrows knit closely together as if in thought. She must have shown her guilt in her face because he smiled slightly.

“You could have told me,” Asra said, “Sit up please.”

With Asra’s help, Hayley sat up as gently as she could. Her shirt was basically in shreds so she tore off the rest of it, Asra looking away respectively. She turned her back to him and made sure to keep it straight when he would apply the bandages.

Asra set his hands on her back, telling her that he was there. He then started wrapping her back and began to talk.

“I figured it out after the first week,” Asra’s voice was calm, no anger or disappointment, “A mysterious yellow-eyed woman with incredible fighting skills? How could I not know?”

Hayley tensed but then realized how obvious it was.

“Also it was very unusual that I got up before you.” His hands were so gentle as if she would break if he pressed too hard, “I just wish you would have told me instead of falling through the front door with blood on your hands.”

Suddenly he stopped, “Can you help me with this part?” Hayley glanced down to see that the bandages and his hands had stopped just below her breast.

Hayley’s face grew warm and she nodded, grabbing the roll in his hand to wrap it around herself then handed it back to him so can wrap it around her back. They did this in silence until they had completely covered her injury.

“I’ll get you a shirt,” Asra said before standing and walking out of the room.

Hayley carefully got up from the couch to stumble towards the nearest mirror. A pang of familiarity shot through her when she saw her mission outfit covering half of her body while bandages covered the other half but she knew that there was something different about her.

Her face, her mask was still off. She lifted her shaking hand to where her lips used to be, now there were pale scars. She looked down at her hand, dry blood still covering it.

Asra then walked in with a new shirt, seeing Hayley staring at herself in the mirror made him frown lightly.

“I still think you are beautiful,” He stood beside Hayley in the mirror, “Arms up please.”

Hayley’s face warmed up and she lifted her arms despite how much it hurt. Asra slid the shirt through her arms and across her torso.

The shirt was too big for Hayley’s size but it was comfortable that way.

Hayley looked into Asra’s eyes and signed, “You’re wrong.”

He shook his head and spoke, “I’m not.” He turns to the mirror and Hayley follows, “I think it’s beautiful that you want to help people even enough to get yourself hurt over it.”

Hayley heart hurt from the way his voice said that last part quietly.

“But I get it,” he forced a smile, “You want to help and for that you are beautiful.”

Hayley stayed quiet staring at Asra’s face in the mirror as he spoke.

The room was now brighter from the morning sun, now higher in the sky. Hayley fought back a yawn.

“I think it’s time for you to get some rest,” Asra smiled as he gestured towards her room.

Hayley nodded, feeling her body grow heavier with exhaustion.

They walked to her room together and with Asra’s help, they got her into bed. Hayley lied on her chest, the comfortable mattress and pillows made it feel like she was on a cloud.

She felt Asra lift a blanket over her body, Hayley trying not to fall asleep immediately.

“Sleep well, Hayley.” Asra said before quietly shutting the door behind him.

Hayley had slept for hours and when she woke Asra was there to care for her despite her complaints.

It wasn’t long before Hayley was ready to go back out on the streets and Asra seemed to know as well.

He walked into the living room with his hands behind his back one day while Hayley was reading something.

She closed the book, already not happy that he was keeping something from her.

“I know you don’t like surprises but...” Asra couldn’t keep in his smile, “I couldn’t help myself.”

He slowly brought his hands to his front, revealing neatly folded clothes.

Hayley stood, recognizing the dark clothes.

“I thought maybe it could use some stitching,” He unfolded the clothes to show them off, Hayley noticing the sudden change of color in some parts.

“I may have also added a bit of color to your outfit to make you seem less scary even though that might not be what you’re after,” Asra pointed to a small stripes of green that glided down the sides.

If Hayley could smile normally, she’d be all grin at that second. She settled for giving Asra a big hug which surprised him but he was happy to receive one.

Finally they pulled away, Asra suddenly getting serious, “Don’t get hurt out there, you hear me?”

Hayley nodded.

“Pinky promise.” He pulled out his pinky.

She rolled her eyes playfully and made a pinky promise with Asra not to get hurt.

Hayley continued to be a badass crime fighter, wanted by criminals and even the guards themselves wanted her stopped.

She has yet to be caught though a trick of fate might change that....

Only in the future will we know.

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana oc #the arcana MC #arcana oc #arcana mc #my mc hayley #my oc hayley #hayley #asra the arcana

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kdtheghostwriter · 4 years

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SNK 122 - Avalanche

Who would have thought when it happened that Eren kissing Historia’s hand would be THE moment of Shingeki no Kyojin. Imagine you’re picking up this lovely series for the first time. You see a fresh take on the survival-horror genre and think, “I could get into this.” A couple volumes in, you discover the zombie horde tale was a clever cover for a fleshy mecha gimmick. “Weird,” you think, “but ok.” Now it’s ten years and 130+ chapters later. We’re all reading a retelling of the Norse Myth of Creation wrapped in a cozy WWII disguise.

What do any of these words mean? Join me under the cut. It’s time for lore.

Thoughts on the chapter first. We finally get to see the life and times of Founder Ymir. Not surprisingly, she appears to be of vague Northern European origin in what appears to be the Middle Ages. The ancient Eldians were Vikings basically, but back then they weren’t even Eldian. They were human just like everyone else…until they weren’t.

Founder Ymir’s story eerily mirrors that of 104th Ymir. As a small child, she was nothing more than a scapegoat. Born a servant girl, she empathized with the group of pigs that had been captured. She released them, no doubt ruining someone’s feast in the process. A soldier asks who the offending party is and we see a great panel of Ymir surrounded by pointing fingers John Wick style.

Much like Mr. Wick, Ymir goes on the run only in a much different context. John Wick, in his universe, is the most prolific assassin alive. He’s on the run, but he’s not defenseless. Ymir is a child and is defenseless. The men (and I do emphasize the grown men) that chase after her never perceive her as a threat. They’re having a sporting time terrifying and slowly killing this innocent child. Running out of energy and time, Ymir happens across a humongous tree and decides an odd hiding spot is better than none at all. Entering the base of the tree, she falls down into an unseen hole – like Alice into the looking glass – and just as she’s about to lose consciousness, she comes in contact with what can only be described as…this.

A parasite? An alien lifeform? An ancient Eldridge manifestation? Maybe. Just like another old Myth there isn’t really a clear answer nor will there be. ‘Tis the Source of all Organic Matter and it was always there it was, lad.

We get several lessons here about how history can warp our perceptions of the individual players in both a positive and negative sense. Ymir never made a deal with the Devil to get her overwhelming power. She literally fell backwards into a divot and came out big as a mountain. On the other hand, the Founding Titan was not this ethereal being of divine beauty. The First Titan was grotesque to look at. It had no true face and its ribs were exposed, which I guess makes sense for a creature that large. Founder Ymir was a victim of circumstance and oppression. She has the power of nature and God at her fingertips but has only known servitude. That’s why there is no objection when she hears the following.

Not only is there CLEARLY no consent here, but I’m fairly sure Ymir is barely a teenager here so – Double Dose of Yikes!

Fittingly (or tragically, who can tell at this point), Ymir has three daughters: Maria, Rose and Sina. She raises her children while helping her nation conquer the lands around them with her unmatched power. However, thirteen years after her eldest child is born, a rogue soldier makes an attempt on the king’s life and Ymir leaps in front of the spear; one final act of indentured service.

Sort of. She is told correctly that she isn’t in danger. No doubt she has come back from far worse injuries than a spear to the collar. King Fritz tells her to get up and continue being a slave and Ymir says fuck you with her whole chest and gives up the ghost right there.

This shocking development leads to two things. First, we see the most graphic panel in a series full of gore and body horror as the children of Ymir are forced by Dear Old Dad to cannibalize their mother’s still-cooling corpse in order to obtain her power. Then, we see Ymir wake up in what we now know as the Paths dimension. Here she shall stay until a certain someone is able to receive and respond to her call for help.

That’s all for the backstory, now what about the source? It’s been documented well that Isayama loves myth and folklore especially of the Norse variety. Near the beginning of #122 we see Ymir fall into a tree that Momtaku and her co-host Luna succinctly describe as “both phallic and vulvic at the same time.” This seems like a clear reference to Yggdrasil, The World Tree. Yggdrasil is an interdimensional bridge with each branch connecting to a different realm, not unlike the branches we see in the PATHS dimension. Then we have the spine-like creature that latches on to Ymir like Symbiote under the tree. See if this looks familiar.

Nidhogg is a serpent that is known for eating away at the roots of the World Tree. It also has a famous rivalry with an unnamed eagle that sits atop Yggdrasil. A constant struggle between freedom and entrapment which is of course a central theme to this story. I’ve seen meta theorize that if the briny parasite represents the serpent of the Tree, that Eren Jaeger would represent the eagle the overlooks it and seeing how he’s spent most of this tale with wings on his back, that makes about as much sense as anything else.

It’s all a lead-up to Ragnarok: the End of the World.

Yup, that looks like the end to me.

When the First King lined up those Titans to form those walls, he couldn’t have known someone would find the one loophole to circumvent his failsafe. The reason the Coordinate Powers only fully activate for those of Royal Blood. It isn’t because of their genes alone. Ymir is a slave to the Royal Family, even centuries after her physical death. It isn’t until someone gives her a choice that she even thinks to take a different course of action.

What a charmer. This panel and the one that follows are both very important to me. Zeke, in his frenzy is a spitting image of King Fritz. Yes, the are directly related but also, I think there is something to be said of him taking on the form of Ymir’s greatest oppressor. After she hears Eren’s pitch to lend him her world-shattering power we see her eyes, full of tears, for the first time. Not an accident. It’s the first time in 2,000 years anyone has treated her like a person.

This is not an official theory or anything but it’s how I interpret this. The title of this chapter ‘From You, 2,000 Years Ago’ is of great significance outside of how it mirrors the title of the very first chapter. Ymir was sending a message and when we remember the Attack Titan’s special trait of moving (and looking) forward it’s clear who the messenger was. The question then becomes, was Eren the only one who was able to answer the call? Yes, just not for the reasons you would think.

Technically, any of the Attack Titans (or any of them, I guess) could have unlocked the PATHS with enough work. The problem is, the only knowledge of Ymir’s story and the history of the Eldian people was with the Coordinate which, historically, was possessed by the Royal Line. It wasn’t until that fateful night when Grisha stole the Coordinate away that a very specific set of conditions could be met.

Once a single person of their own free will got even a glimpse of the tortured history and fate of Founder Ymir it was enough to set an incredibly complex series of events into motion. This is why the Attack Titan, even during the Great Titan War, can never listen to reason. They know what the end game is, thanks to Eren sending them snaps of that scenery.

Eren was special after all. Just not in the way we first thought. Funny that.

Stray Thoughts

- Keep in mind that the final panel of Eren’s new Titan exploding out of his severed head happens the instant it lands in Zeke’s hand. How must Gabi be feeling right now? You think you’ve slain the Devil of the Earth and all you’ve done instead is give him immense power and an army of unstoppable giants. Someone get the Bart cake gif in the replys.

- The most impressive part of seeing Ymir’s backstory is that it was largely done with no dialogue. Almost felt like we were reading a scroll or ancient tome. Credit to the author for crafting such a deep, rich world to explore. Somehow, Shingeki no Kyojin isn’t the story he’s always wanted to tell but it will rightfully be the one he is best known for.

- Once again Zeke blows a 3-1 lead by being an entitled shithead. He and the rest of his family knew the story of Ymir and the fate she suffered and still saw fit to not only keep her imprisoned but to use her as a tool to subjugate their own people. No tears from me, muchacho.

#snk meta #shingeki no spoilers #snk 122 #eren jaeger #zeke jaeger #founder ymir #king fritz #congrats btw to the king #you have usurped capt gross for biggest heel in snk

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Did Slasher Cult Favorite My Bloody Valentine Get the Shaft By Critics?

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Just when you thought slasher movies couldn’t get any lower, My Bloody Valentine dug a mineshaft. A deep pit in the caverns of taste. Date movie? My Bloody Valentine was the antidote to Hallmark cards. The main suitor didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve; he bled it out with every candy in the box. Hence why critics weren’t so sweet on the slasher flick when it first came out in 1981, labeling it excessive and derivative.

Nevertheless, the movie has amassed a cult following, and did indeed add subtle innovations to the genre. Is the ‘80s horror offering the low-point of slashploitation or were the reviewers merely suffering overkill fatigue? Quentin Tarantino claims this is his favorite slasher flick, which could be used as an argument for either side.

My Bloody Valentine is celebrating 40 years right now, which is apt for the movie’s plot. According to the inner logic of the film, its small Canadian mining community, Valentine Bluffs, is due for another homicidal rampage in 2021. Indeed, the town apparently throws a Valentine’s Day ball every 20 years. And each time they throw one, the dance card gets drenched in blood.

In George Mihalka’s film, the last time the town threw a Valentine’s Day dance in the ‘60s, so many people left work early there was a horrible mining accident. There was only one survivor, Harry Warden (Peter Cowper), and he survived on a strict diet of his fellow miners. Once you’ve tasted the flesh of your coworkers, it’s tough to settle for the breakfast special at the local greasy spoon. So he is obligated to go on a killing spree.

And he is not a picky killer. Here is a movie murderer who doesn’t limit his victims to cheerleaders, lovers’ lane parkers, or hitchhikers. He kills old ladies, middle aged foremen, young hot dog aficionados, and amateur plumbers. He doesn’t care! He may not even know he’s doing it, because he spends half the movie in a miner’s helmet with the light off.

My Bloody Valentine hit theaters during the first wave of slasher films, and helped build the archetypes while borrowing from its predecessors. The first-person camera shots from the killer’s POV come from John Carpenter’s 1978 classic Halloween. But the film resembled Friday the 13th so much that the mining assailant could have been a copycat killer making due with tools from work. The slasher is masked, and the killings defy laws of physics, as well as homicide ordinances. To make sure no one misses the point of its derivativeness, the Valentine’s Day of My Bloody Valentine falls on a Saturday the 14th.

Slasher flicks are like any other procedural, as the Scream franchise brilliantly exploited. The movies were made on small budgets but packed theaters and sold popcorn, often twice because unexpected jump scares were designed to send kernels flying. Paramount Pictures picked up My Bloody Valentine hoping to capitalize on the success of Friday the 13th, which pulled in $15 million. My Bloody Valentine barely sold two million tickets in North America. It didn’t make enough to warrant a franchise.

It looked like slasher films reached a saturation point in 1981. After the assassination of John Lennon, film companies faced pressure to tone down the gore. The MPAA demanded heavy cuts to My Bloody Valentine, as well as that year’s The Prowler and The Burning, which had special effects by Friday the 13th‘s Tom Savini, and contained the feature film debuts of Holly Hunter and Jason Alexander. It was also the first film produced by Bob and Harvey Weinstein.

The MPAA ordered trims to every death sequence in My Bloody Valentine before considering it for an R-rating. Even after cutting the film to match the requirements, the MPAA returned an X-rating and demanded further cuts, ultimately resulting in the loss of nine minutes of violence. The film suffered doubly, because besides eviscerating the work of legendary makeup effects designer Tom Burman, whose techniques were trailblazing at the time, many of the gorier scenes were transitional to other action, leaving viewers unintentionally disoriented.

Hungarian-born Canadian filmmaker Mihalka’s previous movie was Pick-up Summer, a Canuxploitation teen sex comedy. My Bloody Valentine followed the Canadian horror tradition brilliantly set by Bob Clark’s Black Christmas (1974). One of the first slasher films, it is more terrifying than gory, with tension rising in waves. It came out the same year as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, which was the most commercially successful horror film since The Exorcist. As a genre entry, My Bloody Valentine didn’t plumb new lows. Maniacs have been seeking revenge since The Terror (1928), and slashers have been elementary in homicidal detective stories. The killer in the 1944 Sherlock Holmes film, The Scarlet Claw, used a five-pronged garden weeder.

Some of the killings in My Bloody Valentine are incredibly innovative. The slasher uses mining tools, shovels, pickaxes, nail-guns, and laundromat dryers. The shower scene dissembles Alfred Hitchcock’s most famous sequence from Psycho from the inside out. My Bloody Valentine also introduces hotdogs as a lethal weapon, inspiring future films April Fool’s Day and Friday the 13th Part 2 with relish. The late ‘70s/early ‘80s aesthetic works well, because the gas masks and boots are totally punk, and yet campy and scary.

My Bloody Valentine veers from slasher tropes by skipping sex scenes, except for one case of mistaken identity. It also includes a love triangle subplot between main characters Sarah (Lori Hallier), Axel (Neil Affleck), and T.J. (Paul Kelman). Axel takes it hard. You might say it tears his heart out to learn his ex-girlfriend is dating his long-lost best friend. Having no sex and nudity is strange for a Valentine’s Day massacre movie, but the virgin survives. So My Bloody Valentine really is a romance.

Another distinction of the film is the choice of characters. Most slasher films star teenagers or people in their early 20s. The victims in My Bloody Valentine aren’t teen scream queens; they’re young working-class adults. These are miners, not minors. In some alternative universe the film could be a parable for how young working stiffs get hacked apart by the growing pressures of adulthood.

They’re also a little tougher than the usual slasher movie victims, having hoisted sledgehammers a third of the day for most of their lives. Mabel, played by Patricia Hamilton, and Becoming Sylvia’s Helene Udy ground the film in the community. The small town setting is as stifling as the caves, though we should feel it as a close-knit and intimate community where everyone knows their neighbor. Small towns hide big secrets.

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Valentine Bluffs isn’t above a little political and criminal cover-up. Killer Harry was committed to Eastfield Sanitarium under a court order, but there are no records of him on file at the institution. The security at the facility is as lax as its documentation, and the murderer gets out on the first anniversary of the mining disaster. He was captured alive after his killing spree and sent back to the institution. As the new party is being planned, as far as anyone knows, Harry is in a coma. When a cop says he must have woken up, it sounds like he got the idea from Monty Python.

But then the premise is a set-up to a recurring gag where the payoff always kills. Overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, Valentine Bluffs is a peaceful place. It has to be, almost everyone in town works at the same job, and everyone is familiar with dangerous tools. We do get a little bit of unintentional humor from the wild prophet bartender, who warns the town about the curse of crazy Harry Warden like he’s John the Baptist himself. We don’t get his head on a silver platter, though. The bartender serves himself up as a prank which foretells the killer’s second coming.

The mining disaster happened while a lot of the crew was decorating for the 1960 Valentine’s Day party. The first victims of the initial killing spree were the guys who didn’t take their work seriously: the two supervisors, whom Warden blamed for the explosion. And as far as the town slasher is concerned, the village doesn’t deserve another Valentine’s Day celebration. There’s work to be done.

The 1980 Valentine’s Day party seems like it’s taking place after enough time has passed. But once again, it’s the work ethic that comes under attack. The authorities began to get warnings to call it off. The requests couldn’t be sweeter, they come as candy-coated carnage. And the longer it takes to get the party started, the more heart-filled boxes with “roses are red” poems get delivered to the mayor and police chief.

When they finally call off the party, they don’t tell the partiers, who move the location of the dance from the town hall to the mines. After all that, about only 15 people show up to boogie down. A party in a coal mine is still a dance to the Harry Wardens of the world.

The mine setting is unique. It’s not a cabin in the woods, even though producers John Dunning and Andre Link would go on to produce Meatballs. It’s not a college campus, a setting which can be traced all the way back to George Archainbaud’s Thirteen Women (1932) and had continued through Prom Night (1980) and Graduation Day (1981) by the time My Bloody Valentine came out. Most of the film takes place in the daylight, and the contradiction is effectively jarring, rendering the constrained landscape even more claustrophobic. The mines are a presence, the tunnels provide endless possibilities.

The film doesn’t begin with the backstory. It is revealed as the story plays out, much like the ending was hidden from the cast during shooting, even though the identity of the killer is obvious by about the halfway point. My Bloody Valentine opens in the thick of things, and steadily sinks deeper into the muck.

The film may not make you shiver with fright, but it should make you squirm. With its over-the-top murders and underground aesthetic, it will never be Hitchcock’s Psycho. But as a slasher quickie, it is far from the worst of the shoddy exploitation horror favorites of the genre.

It’s a film that delivers on all the promises of its genre: thrills, kills, and blood spills. It may not be the best introduction to sociopathic cinema, but it wasn’t even close to the worst of that year’s entries. The critics who disavowed it were suffering from overkill fatigue. Slashers were relatively new and still treated as a film fad.

The genre is still evolving, and occasionally dropping deliciously horrific treats. In every box of chocolates, there are a few pieces which don’t delight instantly. As an edible arrangement, My Bloody Valentine is a bittersweet gift idea, but it will set hearts aflutter.

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