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fallen-goldfishcracker · 3 months

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I've been thinking obsessively about my gladiator!Hunter au for the past 24 hours straight- so take some random plot drabbles!

Hunter is sixteen/seventeen ish at the start of the story, although he doesn't know his exact birthdate or age. He has been a professional gladiator for at least a year, training at a ludus gladiatorius (a gladiator training school- currently unnamed) in a province countryside near Rome/

He was abandoned by his mother at the age of seven or eight, and was picked up a few years later by a group of slavers, and sold to very small gladiator trainer/manager- called a lanista- to compete as essentially canon fodder in small provinces.

He survived somehow, and began getting more skill and kinda-sorta-almost fame, and around the age of 13 was sold to the ludas gladiatorius just outside of Rome.

What type of gladiator was he? I'm glad you asked! but this answer is gonna get a little long, so I'm putting it under the partition.

There were several types of gladiators, all of which had different fighting styles and armament, and were suited to different opponents. At the moment, I am unsure which type of gladiator he was. His combat style in canon is very light and agile, and he is semi-lightly armored; I want to represent that in this au with giving him those same traits and abilities.

-the lightest and most agile gladiators were the Retiarius; these guys:

They wore next to no armor besides a manica (arm guard) on one arm and a galerus (shoulder-guard) on the other. They fought with a trident, weighted net, and dagger, and were largely looked down upon, even more than already sub-human gladiators, especially if they belonged to the specific subset of retiarius, called: retiarius tunicatus, who were especially "shameful" and "effeminate" because they wore (can you believe it??) clothes. For shame.

Their main paring in the arena was the more heavily armored: secutor

However, I'm not sure if I like the look for my boy, Hunter- and the fighting style doesn't super call to me, so I'm not sure.

The second option is a rarer type of gladiator called a veles, or velites (skirmishers, in English). Because they are so rare, information on them is a little lean, and most mentions of them are from the Total War Wiki, soooo. I'm going to do my best with what I know.

They fought with a small, round shield and a six ft long spear (hasta in Latin), and were lightly armored. They were also given a sword as a backup, should the spear fail or be lost. They were a latter addition to the gladiator games, based off of a subset of the Roman infantry of the same name. In contests, they would be paired against other velietes.

Like I said, there's not a lot of information on them, which is definitely a con, as it makes design a lot more difficult. But-

Look! Wolf Boy! That is definitely a plus.

As I mentioned, the velietes are based off of an actual subclass of soldier in the Republic, pictured above on the left. We can see the spear, sword, and shield, and he also has a tunic and the wolf cap thing which slays. The right one is a warhammer figurine, but listen, supplies are thin. I can assume, using my very limited historical knowledge, that, as gladiators were, essentially performers of the likes of the despicable actors, they would dress as some sort of caricature of the actual soldiers, with the same weapons, and I propose keeping the wolf beanie as it slaps, but the tunic probably would have been ditched for something more revealing, like on the right.

(gosh that was long why didn't a make this a separate post good heavens why)

Whichever type of gladiator Hunter was, over the course of one or two years he would have sparred 5-7 times in an arena, as well as several times at private functions/ banquets depending on his popularity (spoiler: he is pretty popular). He's also the youngest (scout to be made-) professional gladiator, which is very appealing for a lot of people. Everyone likes an underdog, right?

When not sparring, he endures a harsh training regiment at his ludas gladitorius (still unnamed) under his lanista- who I think should be a character from the show but I do not know who at the moment. Although popular and well-liked, he's a very high flight risk, so his freedom is extremely limited. He basically lives and works and exists at the school, except for when he is rented out for contents and arenas 3-4 times a year.

Sometime during the story he gets spotted at a contest by Belos, (that's right lads you knew he was going to show up. You knew it). Belos is a affluent, high-ranking general in the Roman Army, and attends the contest, and becomes very interested in Hunter.

A few months later, Belos celebrates the ten year anniversary of his brother's death with a gladitoral munera, three days of gladitoral combat and feasts, and rents out gladiators from Hunter's ludas gladitorius, mainly because Hunter looks very similar to his dead brother,(wink wink) and Belos is the emperor(ha) of healthy coping. At the end of the munera, Belos buys Hunter from the lanista to become his personal guard, and boom- we have the Golden Guard dynamic from the show!

Small baby headcanon's that don't really relate:

Hunter is a pretty good pickpocket, from those few years on the streets, but if he got caught he was royally screwed because he can't lie for the life of him.

His favorite color used to be red, but since his time as a gladiator he doesn't know his favorite color anymore. During his time under Belos, it becomes yellow.

When he was younger, he tried to run away twice, and because of that was branded on his arm or neck (maybe with the letters FVG, for fugitive??). With Belos's permission, he cut off/hacks it off after he's bought.

His favorite foods are those little honey cakes sometimes served at the banquets the night before gladiatorial contents. The first time he was important enough to go to a public banquet, he ate so much food he got himself sick, and now at banquets he doesn't eat much, to give himself a better chance the next day, but he does have a honey cake if they are provided.

He thought gladiators were super cool until he became one. Think like, a little kid's obsession with superheroes.

He's still sort of scrawny, especially for a gladiator, who were fed a lot of bulky food to give them some fat to cushion blows in the arena, but he has a good amount of muscle, and after he leaves the arena (and maybe after Belos???) he starts filling out more.

Lastly, at sixteen years old, he still hasn't lost all his baby teeth! (even with how many times he's been socked in the jaw)

I'm hoping to work in more characters later, right now I am frankly obssesed with gladiator!hunter and gladiator!hunter only, but I do have some ideas for Hexsquad + the CATT's, so hopefully I'll be able to expand on that.

Anndddd that's that babbbby take the my disorganized rambles for 24 hours of hyperfixation. And yes, I am writing this because if there's one thing I'm good for it's hyperspecific au's of my loveliest boy.

#the owl house #toh hunter #hunter the golden guard #hunter the owl house #toh #hunter toh #the owl house fic #the owl house au #gladiator au #gladiator!hunter

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yugonoashiato · 8 months

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Yugo Kochi – It's important to be enthusiastic about what you want to be – Birdman TV Show

Yugo Kochi (29) from the six-member group SixTONES appeared as a studio guest on NTV's special programme 'Bird Man Contest 2023' (Aug 30, 7pm). He watched the romantic flight over Lake Biwa live. The sight of the birdmen fulfilling their dream of soaring in the sky made him realise that "as in our idol work, it's important to have the 'enthusiasm to be a birdman'", and that it overlapped with his own career path. We also asked him about their flight as a group and his thoughts on his last year in his twenties.

This year marked the 45th anniversary of this major summer event and we cheered from a special studio by the lake. It was, of course, the first time he had seen the event live. Watching his friends pray from the platform, he said: "It's a very human documentary. I realised that a four-metre headwind is tough. It was a luxury to be able to enjoy it again on air".

He even visited the platform from which the plane took off. Although his name '髙地' means 'highland', he said: "When I see how high it is, I wouldn't dare to run down 10 metres in a glider by myself. I prefer low ground," he said with a wry smile.

Watching the flight of the 28 teams in the Human Powered Propeller Aircraft category, he was impressed by the division of labour in designing, directing and supporting the pilots in their training. The team's performance was also supported by the lighting crew, the choreographer and others, without whom we could not create a single piece of work. That's why we cry when we succeed and feel frustrated when we fail.

When asked if he would form a SixTONES flying team, he replied: "I would be the leader of the cheering squad. I am the leader of the cheering squad! I don't want to be involved in the design (laughs). The pilot could be Tanaka, who is surprisingly agile. He's also light and has guts when he puts his mind to it," he fantasised.

The group took off on six wings in 2015. It also experienced headwinds. "We were said to be in a fierce junior battleground with Snow Man and Travis Japan, who are now doing well in their generation, and there were whispers that we might not be able to make our debut. But I didn't give up and that was a big part of it. I've got a tailwind too: I'm being challenged by a company with the latest technology." [E/N: I think he meant Sony 😭🙏🏻].

His debut came in the middle of the Corona disaster. "I couldn't do the location work properly and my TV time was short... When you jump before you fly, you have to bend your knees. If you look at it like it was time to bend your knees, it wasn't bad." He also sees the flow as a positive: 'I didn't get tired from being busy, I had a good slow start and was able to keep going without strain."　

Of course, the status quo cannot be maintained. "I have to carry more weapons on my back. It's important to sharpen the weapons in my backpack. I certainly don't want people to think I haven't changed since my debut." His appearance on the current show was also well received for his comments. It must have been stimulating.

He is the oldest member of the group and will be 30 next March. "I joke about it on the radio, but I'm thinking of keeping my age a secret when I turn 30 (laughs). I don't want to be limited by my age. If I don't force myself to look young and do my best to do my own thing, I think I will look young naturally. I don't say things like 'I'm already an old man' when I turn 30 (laughs). I want to greet my juniors cheerfully.” As his surname suggests, he is aiming high.

From Yahoo Article:

https://news.yahoo.co.jp/articles/996487d58a141fb0761ee49c45eae3cc04c4ee8f

#髙地優吾 #SixTONES #Yugo Kochi #Kouchi Yugo #news article interview #translation #japanese to english #erindani #sneak peek post was on twitter

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scattered-winter · 3 years

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So the last two posts about the Batfam and health have made me think about how they would stretch and relax after a hard day of crimefighting.

Recovery is really important for people who are very physically active, because their muscles are doing all this hard work, and they need time to unwind and recover from that. Recovery days are just as important as workout days, even if they seem like they don’t do much for you. I’ve been thinking about how the Batfam would spend their recovery days, so please accept this senseless drabble <3

Bruce

He’s been doing this a long time, and he knows what works for him. He’s also considerably older than the other vigilantes in his city, so Bruce stretches out his muscles very slowly and gently. He’s moderately flexible; not like Dick, but he isn’t stiff, either. He can touch his toes without bending his knees, and if he stretches and warms up first, he can touch the ground, too. Maybe he does some arm swings or torso twists, to stay loose, but nothing extreme.

Since Bruce wouldn’t know “relaxation” if it bit him on the ass, he usually spends his recovery days in the office, looking over cases while putting ice or athletic tape on sore muscles.

Dick

He’s the most flexible person in the family, and of course he loves to flaunt that. He doesn’t just touch his toes, he can place his palms flat on the ground. Behind his ankles. And he does it All. The. Time. Dick does his stretching while watching TV or something else where he can just sit and stretch out without having to move much. Jason walks in the room and Dick’s just laying on the floor in the most complicated yoga pose like “..’sup.” He also likes to hang upside down from the chandelier in the main room at the manor and go through his acrobatic stretching routine

When he’s not stretching, Dick is either taking a nap or taking Haley out for a walk or light jog. Something to get his blood pumping, but nothing that’ll really make him dig deep.

Jason

He’s not flexible At All. Jason’s workout routines and fighting styles are more of the heavy-lifting muscle-type stuff, so what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up for in raw power. He can’t touch his toes (Dick teases him ENDLESSLY) but he does like yoga. He’s not super great at it, but it helps him stretch out and relax when all else fails

When he’s not stretching, he’s rolling out his muscles and taping them when needed. Jason’s also very fond of chocolate milk.

Tim

He’s very meticulous about his recovery days. He knows what stretches are best for him, and he’s pretty flexible, too. Tim can 100% touch his toes, and he’s trying to get flexible enough to touch the ground, too. Tim also likes yoga, but he does it more as his time to be by himself and think than to actually stretch out. He doesn’t really do yoga with people, except Cass, but they just kinda vibe in silence. She does her thing and he does his, and they’re great

When he isn’t stretching out, he’s looking over cases with Bruce. He’ll always have some kind of sports drink with him, and he and Bruce will just hang out together

Damian

He’s probably one of the most flexible people in the family. Not on Dick’s level, but he’s pretty damn close. Damian can easily place his palms flat on the ground, and he sometimes stretches out with Dick while they watch TV together. Dick’s been getting him into animated shows like Avatar the Last Airbender. (Damian pretends to hate it but he’s secretly completely obsessed. He wants a space sword And a boomerang now).

When he isn’t stretching out or taking care of his body, he’s painting or drawing. Sometimes he dips his bare feet in paint and just walks across the canvas. Once in a while he gets out his charcoal and accidentally smudges it all over his hands and face so he looks like a kid dressing up as a commando soldier for Halloween. (I just have a lot of emotions about Damian and art okay)

Cassandra

She’s the second most flexible. The only person more flexible than her is Dick. They have flexibility contests for shits and giggles. Cass also just stretches out Anywhere. Y’all know that part in B99 when Rosa Diaz is just casually doing yoga poses in the weirdest spots? Like on top of shelves? And inside closets? Yeah. That’s Cass. She scared the shit out of Tim once when he was coming downstairs in the middle of the night for a drink of water. She was in the pigeon pose on top of the fridge. (Tim: *filling up a glass of water*�� Cass: hey Tim: *screaming*)

When she isn’t taking care of her muscles and body, Cass is chilling with Tim. While he’s doing yoga, she’s just watching bad action movies and judging the special effects and fighting choreography

I might do another post like this later. Idk. I’m currently having a lot of fun looking at superheroes and vigilantes through the lens of an athlete, and thinking about what they would need to do to keep their bodies at their best

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princeanxious · 3 years

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I always have this like. One song that i listen to on one of my playlists, that without fail i imagine this animation/animatic idea with the sides in a winged au, doing some kind of tag-team olympic-like race of some sort, where it involves a ton of dofferent kinds of obstacles that need to be maneuvered around with expert skill, speed, and grace(each being separately counted with their own points catagory to add together for each team's final score) and like

(Ive also had this animatic idea since before janus and remus were revealed so they werent originally imagined as part of this idea but I can make it work just fine)

It starts off pretty simple with Patton leading the take off of the race, as his area of specialty is flying with grace(hes pretty clumsy otherwise, outside of flying, for contrast) and so it starts off with pretty visual manuveres that involve a seriously practiced skill to pull off, both while flying at a quick speed, and while flying around other contestants, but its the shortest part of the race because his not high on stamina to begin with

Then he taps Romans shoulder as he lands and then Roman takes off to the second portion of the race, quick reaction time, agility, and strong manuverability. There are lots more obstacles to avoid or pass through in this catagory, and Roman has large wings so many expect him to struggle with manuverability, but of course he nails it, able to dip low to pass through a small hoop without brushing against it and then lauch high to crest over a bar and then dip low, all at a high speed. Logan is already running for take off as Roman is slowing to land when they high five the trade off

Logan's wings are small and agile, and his area of skill involves quick thinking, agility, and problem solving skills. Some obstacles have false leads that could lose one time as they have to turn back from dead ends or go through even more complicated parts of the course, some are angled weirdly and require an altered version of a vommon manuver to pass through, so on and so forth, and at this point their team is gaining a bit of a lead when he passes the touch to Janus.

Janus's wings are partially damaged, and thought he can still fly just fine, hes more skilled with graceful moves like patton, but the twist is that these moves and maneuveres have to make it through certain obstacles, like hoops and weaving back and forth between a line of metal poles to count for points. He manages it alright but some other winged player, a bad sport, just barely whips past and against the tip his bad wing and disbalances him a bit, loosing their team precious seconds as he has to struggle to right himself to tag Remus in on time

Remus has to focus not to go after the bad sport and instead puts all his effort into the next course, which infact is the one course of the race where flying isnt the main goal, its allowed, but flying 100% of it makes the whole course more difficult. Its infact more of a parcore course, with passing targets to hit and checkpoint flags to grab as you pass, wall climbing up tight walls that are too narrow to fly up and dropping down slopes and weaving between pillars and corners that are too tight to safely pull ones wings out. This, Remus dominates at. Once hes finally out of the course, he tags Virgil, and now their team is on the final stretch of the race.

(This is also where the music of the song starts the crescendo before the pause before beat drops)

Virgil, who is the newest and smallest of the team, is nervous, and hasn't had long to prove to their team that he's good. This is his first year truly participating in an event like this too so his teammates are all gathering at the finish line, waiting in anticipation. Virgil has never boasted about his talents, and struggles to practice with them because his expertise is speed, agility and stamina, and the practice required for that is much more solo. So the team doesnt really know what to expect from him because this last part of the course is the most difficult for anyone with wings in general, even those who train for years because this final course makes it easy to lose speed and stamina fast, and its very common for contestants wings to give out or cramp up mid flight from the strain of keeping a steady altitude, making it a very dangerous drop into the stretch of ocean below.(not to worry, as theres stand-by medical teams to immediately rescue those who drop, and the worst that comes of these is usually strained/sprained wing muscles and shoulder muscles and some bruising.)

its a very long stretch of 'track' from the starting point being at the drop off of an extremely large cliff(the entire race has been using each course to climb up a mountain section by section) right into the ocean, and the entire stretch of flight is completely over deep water, and the finish line is on a large cruiz ship to kick off celebrations once the race is over.

And well, Virgil is small, shorter than his rival contestants, and kind of stout but not by much. But this entire time up till this point you never see his wings, theyre a pitch black lump on his back, naturally pulled tight from anxiety, while the other contestants are stretching their large and small wings out for the long dangerous flight ahead of them.

And just as Remus comes into view, Virgil takes a deep breath and relaxes, though his wings stay pulled tight. The trade off from Remus to Virgil is smooth, though a few other contestants are already taking off ahead of him, but he pays it no mind.

The strip of land he starts at is long enough to get up to a running speed, but instead of leaping up to unfurl his wings and take off or glide off, he takes the entire strip of land to sprint to the cliff,

And then he dives.

And by this point there are snippets of judges and contestants and his team gasping or staring in shock as this is not a normal strat and is infact extremely dangerous for even the most skilled of strong flyers. And Virgil has never particularly come off as a strong or skilled flyer, cautious and fast yes, but skilled?

(This is where the songs tempo starts to pick up to the fullest part of the first beat drops crescendo before lulling-)

And to top it all off, this clif is at least a mile or two high. For the first mile down, first still doesnt open his wings, but instead of looking panicked, he looks calm, his eyes closed and his arms at his side as the wind whips through his face, but its a perfect dive, and the wind fails to throw him off course like people expect it to.

And finally, just as it looks like hes about to dive headfirst into the ocean at full speed, his body doing a few twirls,

His long raven black wings unfurl-

And he soars.

(And the second beat drop hits and erupts into a dramatically energized beat)

Whatever the distance was that he fell behind the other contestants from the time it took to drop is easily lost as the momentum of his drop and the pushing currents of the ocean air send him rocketing towards the finishline, barely losing momentum the way his opponents do with their flapping while his sleek wings cut and glide through the air currents; every once in a while tipping his wings one way the other to catch on the ocean surface to maintain balance

Before you know it, he's close to the finish line of the race, and it takes one solid angles flap to pull him up enough to fly through the finish line with first place at a speed unheard of for this kind of race course, still meters ahead of the contestant to get second place.

Everyones in awe, people are cheering, and Virgil is smiling bashfully, and his team croud around him and are complimenting him

And, of course, because of Virgil's near world record-breaking preformance, their team wins.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #sanders sides au #sanders sides animatic #animatic idea #luka writes #luka draw this

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ashestoashesjc · 4 years

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A Necromancer & His Zombie Boyfriend On A Couple's Retreat

Short Story 1/2/(3)/4/5/6/7/8/9/10

"RrRRrrrr... grrr? <Hey, uh, babe... seen my arm anywhere?>" rang Sett's voice throughout their cigar box of a house as he rummaged through closets, opened cabinets, overturned couch cushions.

Shutting and latching the front door behind him, Ulrick began flipping through the stack of envelopes clutched in his right hand. "Huh? Oh…”

“Okay, so… don’t get mad,” Ulrick began, as meekly and guilt-tinged as one can make a shout. “But... there was this huge, I mean HUGE silverfish…”

“GRrrr! Rrrrr. <Dude! Not cool,>” could be heard as Sett stomped his way to the foyer.

“I know! I’m sorry! I’m weak!” moaned Ulrick.

Sett sighed as he entered the cove and laid his single remaining hand on Ulrick’s left shoulder, the other sleeve draped flaccidly at his side. “Grrrr. <Well, yeah.>” he said. Ulrick snickered.

“You know, having your boyfriend kill a bug for you is exceedingly normal,” Ulrick said, separating the bills from the letters that weren’t bills. There were very few that weren’t bills. “Almost conventional.”

“Rrr. <True,>” Sett replied. “Rggrrrr. <Probably while the arm’s still attached, though.>”

“A mere quibble.”

“Rrrrgrrr? <So, where is it now?>” Sett asked.

“Ugh. Still getting cozy with the silverfish, I’d imagine,” Ulrick admitted, guilt creeping back into his voice. He covered his eyes with his free hand and shuddered. “In… the shower.”

Sett sucked air through his teeth in a compassion-filled cringe.

“Yeah,” Ulrick sighed, resigned to his trauma.

“Grrrr. <Don’t worry,>” said Sett. “Rraarr. <I got it.>”

Ulrick slid his hand down his face with a grateful groan. “God, I love you.” Sett pulled him forward by his collar and pecked his forehead.

Continuing to sort through the mail, Ulrick came to a red envelope and, seeing it addressed to Sett, handed it over. “Looks important.”

Confusion clouded Sett’s eyes for the first few, slow moments spent undoing the envelope’s seal flap, until suddenly, a surge of realization like lightning drove him to violently tear the crimson paper away.

As he scanned the contents of the letter contained within, words failing to do his emotional state justice, Sett began to fist pump wildly, God help anyone in the flight path of his singular elbow. Ulrick looked on in entranced bewilderment.

“Was there itching powder in that envelope?” asked Ulrick.

Sett shoved the creased letter in Ulrick’s face, his manic energy not yet dissipated. Ulrick took it and held it out at arm’s length until his eyes brought the words into focus.

“A couple’s retreat?” he wondered aloud, lowering the paper enough to peer over the top at Sett.

“Grrgrrrr. <An all-expenses paid couple’s retreat.> Rrrrrr. <At a swanky resort.> GrrrrRr. <Complete with water skis.>”

“This is from a contest?” he asked, rotating and inspecting the sheet. “When did we enter a contest?”

“Rrggrrrr? <You know those entry slips we’re getting in the post all the time?>”

“The ones I’m always throwing away? I’m familiar.”

“RrrRrrrrr ggrrrr. <Well, your aim could use some work, because some of them wind up in the mailbox,>” said Sett, with a shrug.

The sound that next filled the room, colored with exasperated mirth, was one Sett was used to Ulrick making, though one that never stopped bringing a flush of heat to the place where his heart used to be.

He grabbed Ulrick by the hips and the two began to sway back and forth. “Rrrrrr. <Just imagine it,>” he purred dreamily. “GrrrRRrrrr rrrrRrrr grrr...arrrr? <Massages, rock-climbing, a luau. And… did I mention waterskiing?>”

Swaying still, Ulrick looked up with his head cocked. "I've... never heard you mention waterskiing before."

"GrrRrrrrrr. <I enjoy a lot of things I don't talk about.> Rgrrrrgrrr. <Like country music, or bad chick lit,>" Sett said before twirling and dipping Ulrick in a blur. "Rraarrrr. <I'm a multi-layered zombie.>"

Breaking clumsily away from the songless dance and squeezing the bridge of his nose, Ulrick set down the remainder of the mail on the side table by the entrance and looked his boyfriend over. “It’s totally free?”

“Grrarrr. <It’s totally free,>” confirmed Sett.

Ulrick raised an eyebrow. “No catch?”

“Rrr… <Well…>”

“And streeetch! That’s right! Streeetch!”

At the front of Meadow Grove Resort’s famed yoga studio balanced - one foot planted on the ground, the other hooked deftly behind her neck - Chrysanthemum Smith, a remarkably limber 60-year-old instructor, urging her out-of-shape contest winning students to achieve the same feats of flexibility.

All around Ulrick and Sett, a pretzel factory’s soon-to-be-discarded collection of heinous, gnarly undesirables had been given life in the form of sweaty middle Americans.

That pretzels went through a less agonizing process being baked at 500 degrees was a fact Ulrick was both confident in and envious of. His legs were angled in a way he was sure he’d feel for weeks to come.

Sett, on the other hand, had apparently been a contortionist in a past life, the way he bent himself into poses, well, a pretzel would gawk at, holding each position stoically before moving gracefully on to the next. It also helped that he couldn’t feel what would leave most tendons shredded rags.

Ulrick gave up the pursuit of dislocating his pelvis and instead went to poke Sett in the cheek. Through his mask, Sett made a chomping motion at the finger, though remained otherwise totally still. "Okay, but this kind of bites, right?" Ulrick signed.

"A little. And not in the fun way," Sett signed back.

On a pair of blue, rubber mats to their left were two women - one in a biker's jacket and tattered, patched jeans, short red hair tied into a haphazard ponytail; the other a dark woman donning a shaved head, flower-patterned maxi dress, and combat boots - the former of whom suddenly grabbed Ulrick's attention with a nod.

"You're telling me," she signed.

And in an instant, they were no longer alone in the hazy, secluded sphere that made their reality.

So taken aback was he that he blurted aloud, "You sign?"

The yoga instructor shushed him from her place at the head of the wide room, leading him to duck down sheepishly. With the forced inclusion of an overly casual air, he said more than asked, "You sign."

"Oh, yeah," the woman chuckled gruffly. "Mom's Deaf."

Taking a sudden interest in the conversation, Sett's head swiveled to the leather jacket-clad woman. "Shit yeah!" he signed with fervor, eliciting a harsh snort from the woman. The instructor's head whipped around to glare her way, but went ignored.

Sett's hands jumbled for a moment before he continued. "I mean, I'm sure that must have been very difficult for your family and--"

She gave a dismissive wave of the hand. "Nah, don't worry about it. She's capital 'D' Deaf. A congenital thing. Whole family's been signing forever."

Her wife - Jen, they later learned - chimed in with, "Di does it at home, too. She's taught me half the lyrics to Boys for Pele."

"Wow!" Ulrick said with teeth-clenching enthusiasm. "That's so great! Isn't that so great, Sett?"

The mask did nothing to conceal Sett's raised, beaming features. "That's so great!" he signed.

"I'm sorry!" bellowed the lithe yogi, shattering all delusions of serenity. "Am I boring you?"

Several overlapping voices came to the general consensus of "Christ, yes."

One of the husbands, portly and somewhat resembling the famously affable capybara, asked, somewhat less affably, why they were being stretched into taffy when they should be outside taking one-on-one lessons with the beach volleyball instructor. He was joined by a few surly “yeah!”s.

They were met with an unimpressed crossing of the arms. Though it should be noted Smith’s foot was still being held comfortably behind her head.

"I would suggest, in the future, that you more closely scrutinize contest entries," Yogi Smith advised in as calm a manner as it seemed she could now manage, though with an unmistakable edge to her voice. "In order to partake in our facility’s more... physically involved activities, you’ll first need to align and cleanse your mental, emotional, and spiritual energies.”

This provoked a studio-wide groan, with the exclusion of Jen, who seemed just eager enough to cancel out the cloud of grim impatience encircling her.

“Unless, of course,” Smith said, shifting poses to something favoring the letter ‘G’, “you’d prefer to construct your own schedules. In which case, a full price admission to Meadow Grove Resort remains available.”

She sleekly extended her right leg, pointing its foot pin-straight toward the sliding studio doors. “Don’t, as the masters of yore were wont to say, let the door hit ya.”

When no one moved and the room went quiet enough to hear an acupuncture needle drop, Smith resumed a standing position and bowed three times to each division of the studio. “Namaste. Namaste. Namaste.”

Chrysanthemum Smith had in no way undersold how ‘aligned and cleansed’ couple’s therapy and its airings of dirty laundry and subsequent ferocious dissolutions of decades of marriage; couple’s pottery, the same thing but with clay vases; and couple’s finger-painting, a bonding exercise in shared humiliation, would make their minds, emotions, and souls through sheer gut-rending hilarity.

Ulrick almost didn’t want to stop watching people who, hours ago, seemed all confidence and bravado, now being brought to tears by an instructor’s criticism of their macaroni art lacking ‘depth.’

But their confinement was over and they were free to roam the grounds as they saw fit and Sett, without even feigning to look for a map of the resort, made a beeline for the largest body of water (and the largest gathering of humans) he could sniff. Ulrick was still surprised at times by how agile Sett could be on his feet when on the hunt for blood - or recreational watersports - and struggled to keep up.

Their long-awaited waterskiing adventure began almost as soon as they arrived at the lakeside, the instructor needing a volunteer at that instant to man the skis while he lectured another guest on the controls of the boat. At nearly a head taller than anyone else present, Sett didn’t need much more than a raised hand to stand out.

Things were going great; Sett mounted on skis as long as he was tall, the boat revving greedily for take off. At Sett’s thumbs up, the runabout hammered off in a thunderous roar. And then, all at once, things were going wrong.

The envisioned majesty of skimming the motionless calm of the crystal river was halted abruptly with a leaden Sett stumbling mid-lake in his skis, trying and failing to correct himself, going feet-over-head, and sinking like an anchor to the agitated silt of the riverbed below.

Ulrick, though he jumped with concern at the first hint of a misstep, expected a brief swim back, perhaps slowed a bit - but not much - by Sett's stoney limbs. He’d been the star diver of his local swimming hole as a teen and still maintained some of the underwater dexterity, though nowadays tended to lurk the floors of bodies of water like a carnivorous bottom-feeder; eating habits included.

But then a few minutes passed, and nothing. A lifeguard and two of the more experienced swimmers among the guests plunged into the river and searched for fifteen minutes, cracking the surface now and again for a gulp of air, all to no avail. The water was too cloudy with sediment to see past a certain depth, and the orange-purples of dusk were beginning to settle in. They'd need to return in the morning with a diving team.

It'd now been forty-five minutes, and three of the resort’s other guests were consoling Ulrick, one herself on the verge of waterworks. They'd just witnessed a man - someone's significant other - torn tragically from life's teat, and in front of the man he loved, no less.

Ulrick, for his part, was positively miffed.

"When I get my hands on him..." Ulrick started, before one of the grievers tossed him a teary-eyed questioning look. "Er, that is... would that I could only put my hands on him... again..." he corrected.

Just as Ulrick had begun mentally reviewing the basics of the Arts of Throttling, a movement, barely noticeable, shook the surface of the lake. Then bubbles, then the full break of the water as a head rose into view. Then the screams of onlookers as, in the fading light, a ghastly lake monster began its murderous approach. Then screams of a different kind as people began to make the connection proper. Then there was weeping, fainting, more than one declaration of faith renewed. It was a miracle!

Later, after insistences for medical attention were politely but firmly refused and the religious stragglers begging for just a smell of Sett’s waterlogged clothes were shooed away, Ulrick asked why he waited so long to resurface, to which Sett said, "GrrrrRRrr. <Well, at first I was just sort of embarrassed.> RrrrrrrGrrrRrrr? <Then I thought, "How often do these people see miracles?>"

"Oh, sure," groaned Ulrick. "A man comes out of a lake after half an hour and it's a miracle. A man comes out of a grave after a few months and it's "Grab the torches and pitchforks, everyone!""

"Rrrr. <Babe.>"

Ulrick gave a pouty grumble. "I'm just saying. One's a little more miraculous, is all."

Sett pulled Ulrick's head into his chest and stroked his hair. "GrrrRrrrRrrr. <Shh, I know, dude, I know.>" His heavy, soaked clothes and lack of body heat didn't chill Ulrick as much as they should have, and though a fine coating of sand covering him from head to toe gritted against Ulrick's cheek, it only made Ulrick rub his face in rebelliously.

"Okay," Ulrick said, resting his fists on Sett's chest and gazing up into his eyes. "What's the next activity? I think we’re... due-au for a luau?" The moment the words left his lips, his face collapsed into disgusted regret.

“Rgrrr... <Actually…>” Sett said, wrenching off his mask and shaking the excess water from his hair, teasing a blush out of Ulrick. “GgrrrRrrrr? <Doesn’t watching the stars by the lake sound pretty relaxing?>”

Ulrick grinned and took a seat on the shoreline, running his hands through the tufts of ryegrass stretching out in waves around him. He tapped a spot to his right and Sett, half-cocked smile in tow, came lumbering over to take it.

Hours flurried past, changing nothing about the image of the intimately silent pair but the number of stark white pinpricks in the sky they beheld.

They threatened to sit silently basking in each other forever.

And then Sett said, “GRrrrrgrrr, rrgrrr, graargrr. <So, Diane and Jen gave me their number, and they want to plan an outing.>”

Unease shot through Ulrick’s veins, but he held his tongue in search of the correct words. “O-oh?”

“Grrr? Rrgrrrrr. <Isn’t that cool? People want to spend time with us,>” said Sett, ensorcelled with the twinkle of every new star. “Rrrrr. <With me.>”

“That might be…” began Ulrick, before noticing the glimmer in Sett’s eyes and faint lift at the corners of his mouth as he stared up towards a great unknown. He sighed. “It’s going to be great.”

Sett rested his hand on Ulrick’s, their fingers interlocking. He smiled, and the two gazed into an ever-darkening firmament, speckled with a thousand stars and a thousand futures.

#A Necromancer & His Zombie Boyfriend #short stories #supernatural #mlm #wlw #queer #series #A Necromance #original #fiction

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justwritingscenarios · 5 years

Text

Toxic

Trafalgar Law x female! Strawhat! reader

1.8k words

Warnings : abusive mother, shaming, end FLUFF

Story : (Y/N) is worried to land on this new island. Trafalgar Law is decided to know why.

The day started as any other day when you’re friend with Monkey D Luffy ; noisy and joyful. The Strawhats along with their allies the Hearts were peacefully sailing to their next destination.

It was Luffy, and Luffy alone, who made the choice to follow the direction indicated by the third log pose needle ; Law tried blaming the young boy for not asking him but Luffy just casually apologised like everytime.

Truth be told, Trafalgar Law was not the only one trying to argue with him. You, as the third woman Strawhat, contested his decision. It surprised everyone. You were normally the first to follow your captain in his overjoy about discovering a new island. But at that moment, your eyes displayed worry.

As you didn’t give the reason to your refusal to join this place, the two crews kept sailing that way. If Luffy and the others - as well as some men of the Heart - promised to keep you safe from whatever was worrying you, your concern didn’t fade. And the surgeon of death didn’t miss it despite his silence.

By the end of the second day, the land was ahead. As soon as the ship and the submarine reached the shore, Luffy was on the soil and quickly followed by everyone else. They had free time to behave and do whatever they wanted the moment they didn’t attract the marine’s attention.

“Aren’t you coming, (Y/N)-ya ?”

Trafalgar Law looked up from the quay to the railing of the Thousand Sunny on which you were leaning.

“Doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.”

Your (color) eyes were wandering through the folks on the quay behind Trafalgar as if you were looking or waiting for something or someone. Anything you obviously didn’t want to see.

“I really am curious what is scaring the fearless and reckless woman you are.” “I’m neither fearless or reckless. And that’s something nobody could protect me of.” “Give me a chance.”

Your eyes fell on the black haired man at the confidence in his last words, but not only that, because he was indirectly saying he would protect you.

You felt your cheeks warming and hoped you didn’t turn red. He had a power over you you loved and hated at the same time. In general, you were mainly grateful he was the allie and friend of your captain. Falling in love overtime with an enemy would have been troubling.

“What are you going to do ?” “Have a drink.”

His answer wasn’t one you wanted to hear according to the grimace on your face. Yet, you surprisingly jumped down right next to him with the agility you showed in fight.

“You better be an awesome bodyguard.”

He eyed you with a sly smile as you started walking to the streets of the city for a bar.

“And so that’s how I met and joined Luffy’s crew.” “I guess Mugiwara-ya is that kind of people that can gather people around him.” “He is with no doubt. We made so many friends thanks to his constant need to help everyone.” “To Mugiwara-ya.” “To Luffy.”

You lifted your glass along with Trafalgar’s one and made them cling together before taking down a full swallow of it.

You’ve been drinking for the past hour, talking about your first respective years of piracy. Thanks to him no alcohol was needed for you to calm your nerves.

The both of you were so focused on each other, as if the sound of the people around couldn’t reach you anymore, that it took you a few seconds to realize the bar had turned silent.

You didn’t have enough time to fully turn around that a hand came slamming your cheek forcefully before you could even see who it was. Not that you needed to watch to know who it was ; your eyes were already teary - not because of the pain - you had been hurt more than that - but because of the shame.

Trafalgar stood up of his sit the moment the slap resonated through the room. He grabbed the woman’s wrist but hadn’t had time to speak she started yelling your way.

“Matt told me he saw you at the docks but I didn’t believe him ! I didn’t believe you have enough guts to show your face here again !”

The furious woman tryied coming closer to you but Trafalgar’s firm grip prevented it. However it didn’t stop her shouts.

“What did you do that the Strawhat accepted you on his ship ? Are you sleeping with him ? With all of his crew ?”

She looked up at the surgeon who’s tighten his grip on her. Her dull eyes quickly fell back on your figure ; her voice was lower but not less accusing. “Him too ?”

For the first time since her arrival, you raised your head and, with your teeth clenched, glared deadly at the woman who gave you birth. It didn’t plead her.

“Six years you left to come back a damn pirate and that’s how you’re looking at me !” She screamed louder than ever.

She was in such a fury Trafalgar couldn’t stop her from kicking in your stool making it fall over and you too. Your whole body collided hard, your head first to meet the floor, and it would have been worst if the Heart hadn’t force your mother to step back and miss her kick to your ribcage.

Despite the pain, you stood up and eager yourself to the exit with the unstoppable shout of your mother still coming your way.

You were about to pass the door that the familiar blue circle passed you and you heard his voice. Shambles. All was left of you and the devil fruit user two little rocks on the floor of the bar.

“(Y/N)-ya... are you ok ?”

Trafalgar had brought you out of the city, away from the people ; you were only surrounded by trees. You knew where you were since you grew up running on the soil and in the forests of this land.

You held a hand to your face and swept off your cheek of the one tear you couldn’t help to fall. Then you turned to him.

“I’m ok. I had stronger opponents.” You chuckled nervously. “That’s not what I mean.” “I know.” You shook your head. “I know.” You repeated lower.

Trafalgar didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t used to this kind of situation and was terribly bad at dealing with it. Luckily from him you were conscious of it.

“I think you already guess it was my mother. I think it’s safe to say we didn’t get along pretty well.” You paused and thought about how to explain it but the Heart made it easier by questioning.

“You told me earlier you left your island to join Luffy two years ago but... your mother, she said you left six years ago ?” “Yeah I... I left this place when I was 17. Joined Luffy when I was 21.”

You paused... again but eventually sighed. If anyone should know about your past, Trafalgar Law was a good choice ; you trusted him after all.

“My mother had always been abusive. Morally abusive. She’s been shaming me and my brother for... as long as I can remember I guess. But one year before I left she hit me for the first time. I thought it would be just one time. I thought she was just angrier than usual or that I had done something that really angered her but” “But she did it again.” You nodded. “What about your father ? Didn’t he stop her ?”

You shook your head negatively.

“He was the first one she started abuse. Then it was my big brother, the Matt she talked about. And so me. They fear her more than I do and never talk back. Everyone is scared of her here. You saw it yourself at the bar, how nobody dared moving to stop her.” “You would have let her beat you if I wasn’t there ?” “Yes ? What should I do ? Hit her ?” “Flee.” “That’s what I did six years ago, look where I am today.”

You hadn’t notice but during your talking, you’d walk closer, just a meter away from each other. You watched as he got his hat off and ran his hand through his hair, visibly embarrassed.

“In the end, I failed at the chance you gave me. I wasn’t an awesome bodyguard.”

If he was discomforted by his own statement, the kiss you brought to his cheek didn’t help ease his heart. The small but sincere smile you showed was reassuring.

“You were a good bodyguard. I even may request your services for the following days.” “... It would be my pleasure, (Y/N)-ya.”

Instead of getting back with Trafalgar’s shambles ability, you insisted on walking. Under the trees, then on the sand of the beach surrounding the whole island, you led the way. And when you got close enough to the docks, you could see light and hear music meaning everybody was already feasting on the Sunny’s deck.

If you seemed eager to join them and forget what happened even only for the night, while Trafalgar was not. He only wanted this alone time to continue. You had just grabbed the ladder to the deck that his voice called you back to him.

“(Y/N)-ya ?” “Yes ?”

But he had nothing to tell you, nothing to keep you to him. So when he thought he had no time left and that you would leave him, panic took over him. He barely controled himself when his hands grabbed your waist, pulled you to him and leaned to kiss your lips. Your hands that rested on his chest under the surprise closed slowly on the cloth of his slightly opened shirt as you relaxed.

There were smooth - his lips on yours - and fuller than what you imagined. It gave you thrills all over your body and down your tummy how he made them slide on yours and slightly open to bit down on your lower one. The small gasp it made you did surprised the both of you and you broke the kiss.

You looked into each other’s eyes, your both faces burning from the excitement you felt kissing. But the sudden overwhelming feeling was not the only one you shared at the moment.

“You... wanna get to the party ?” He asked unsure. “No.” “Wanna go to a quieter place ?”

You nodded more vigorously than you wanted to, as your eyes kept going on between his eyes and his lips. The both of you only wanted to kiss each other again. It was the need you shared.

#trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law imagine #trafalgar law scenario #trafalgar d water law #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #abusive mother #current mood

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vegalocity · 5 years

Note

Usagi and Mamoru, the one true ship.

EYYYYYYYYYY

Ship headcanons meme

which one tags the other in pictures of cute animals

Okay this one’s actually split, because Usagi tags Mamoru in EVERY cute animal picture she sees, but Mamoru, a connoisseur of puns, tags her ONLY in cute rabbit pictures. However, though he only directly tags Usagi in rabbit pictures, every other cute animal picture is on it’s own tag probably something like #UsagiLookHere so if Usa’s having a bad day he can link her to the full tag witthout having to directly link her every time.

which one injures themself while trying to impress the other

Well define injury. Usagi’s cut herself and dropped multiple pots on her feet while trying to cook for Mamoru, that’s canon, Mamoru’s gotten seriously hurt while Tuxedo masking Several times, also canon. But specific Hot dogging to impress the other, I think that might be Mamoru. I mean they both have multiplied strength and agility while transformed, but Usagi’s clumsiness would prevent her from even trying, whereas I could see Mamoru wanting to do something cool, eating it in the worst way, and ending up with a broken nose trying to do that bike trick and transforming in the middle of it like he did that one time.

which one carries the other on their shoulders when they get too tired to walk

Mamoru carries Usagi, obviously. Though there’s probably at least been a couple of times where Usagi’s carried him as well. Most likely in senshi form since that’s when strength gets augmented, but I could see her throwing mamoru on her back and charging like the mad woman she is while civillian as well.

which one puts pizza rolls in the shopping cart when the other isn’t looking

Usagi, this isn’t even a contest.

which one sends the other useless fun facts at 3 am

Both of them do. Usually when that PTSD feel wakes someone up and they need to do something. That shared trauma feel when you’re woken up by ur SO telling you about how cows have best friends and you instantly know they had some sort of horrible nightmare or were too paranoid to sleep.

which one feeds stray animals

Both. Though it usually STARTS with Mamoru since animals can smell the hyperactivity on her and don’t come near unless Mamoru’s there to chill them out first. And I mean, there’s also that one episode in Classic where Mamoru goes to feed strays in that abandoned house, and brings Usagi after a bit, so that’s basically canon.

which one sleeps in really weird positions

Usagi, she’s a crashlander sleeper, and Mamoru’s a cuddler so sometimes it’s a little odd. Usagi will wake up in the middle of the night and realize her right arm’s gone numb because it was the only limb sleep!Mamoru could grab and it’s been cuddled like a teddy bear all night.

which one opens all the jars/bottles

Mamoru, he knows all the bottle opening tricks, and jokingly refuses to tell Usagi, because he says (entirely playfully she knows he’s joking) that if she knew how to do it herself she wouldn’t need him anymore. Though they both know Usagi already knows most of the tricks just by wathcing him and if all else fails Makoto is just a phonecall away.

which one spontaneously bursts into song for no reason

Usagi, it’s a blessing and a curse, because it usually means she’s incredibly happy, but she’s also tone deaf.

which one buys the other really weird birthday cards

Mamoru, he’s that fucker that gets a wildly different card and uses a combination of tape and marker to change it. Usagi positively HOWLS with laughter every time so he keeps doing it.

#letters to vega #Ship headcanons meme #Usamamo #Love story of the millenia #Anonymous

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katastroficwriter · 5 years

Text

Cutscene #5

*Once again, I apologize for the late update. This update would feel very rushed--but that’s because of my inexperience with writing action/fighting scenes. And because I needed to push the story to where it needs to be as soon as possible. I hope this fact won’t reduce your enjoyment of my au. ^^;

May 18, 20xx, 4:43 pm

“Hey, Kiiboy?”

“Not now.”

“Yes now.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Ye~s!”

Kiibo leaned against his seat, sighing in exasperation as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do you want this time? Can’t you see that I still have a lot of schoolwork I need to catch up on?”

“What I see is that you are in desperate need of a good walk in the park, my friend,” Ouma shamelessly plucked his roommate’s reading glasses and wore it on his head. “Getting stressed about doing work while doing work is hardly productive, you know.”

They spent a couple of minutes in an impromptu staring contest, to which Kiibo eventually forfeited.

“Fine. I suppose I do need a breather,” Kiibo snatched his reading glasses back from his roommate’s head. “As long as we don’t stay out too long, I guess it’s okay.”

“Great! There’s this good hotdog stand by the park. My treat!” Ouma grinned. ‘Step one--cleared.’

Kiibo shook his head. “No. I’ll treat you. You took care of me while I was sick.”

Ouma blinked in surprise before moving to cover his pleased smile. “Be careful there Kiiboy. Keep doing this and I might just fall in love~”

The albino simply rolled his eyes as he pocketed his wallet. “Ha, ha. Anyway, are we going or not?”

“Heck yeah we are!” Ouma skipped towards the doorway after shrugging his backpack on.

“What’s the backpack for?” Kiibo asked as he locked their room.

“It’s just in case something happens! Like sauce spilling on my shirt. Also first aid kit in case you...I don’t know, slip and fall or something. You’re just so clumsy that I can’t afford to be confident that you’re getting out of this trip unscathed.”

“Is this how you see me?” Kiibo huffed.

“I’m just stating facts, my good sir,” Ouma tipped his invisible hat. “Anyway we better hurry! If we wait around any longer they might run out of the good stuff!” He grabbed his roommate by the wrist and made a dash for the school gate.

After paying for their hotdogs, Ouma led Kiibo farther and farther from the crowd of people and into the forest. Which normally would raise alarm bells in any sane person who was being tugged into a forest. But this was Ouma. If Ouma wanted to murder him, he would have done so as soon as he went to sleep.

“Why are you taking me into the forest?”

“I usually go for walks while eating, and I happened to find this great spot to watch the sunset. There’s also a bench there! The best part is, no one really wants to walk all the way here just for a seat. So it’s practically all ours,” Ouma grinned.

“I see...”

“Oh it’s here! Man the light reflects really well in the lake--”

“A lake?”

“Yeah, a lake!” Ouma grabbed Kiibo by the wrist for the umpteenth time that day and led him to the bench with unbridled excitement.

Kiibo had his doubts, but the sunset view had rendered him speechless. Ouma wasn’t lying--the view was gorgeous. The way the sun’s rays bathed the forest with a soft yellow glow was something worth painting. Oh, if only he were a painter...

“You sitting or not?” Ouma punctuated his question by shoving the hotdog in his mouth as he patted the free space beside him.

“Ah,” Kiibo shook his head a little to snap out of his daze. “I’m sitting.”

Ouma simply smiled at him with his eyes since he was still busy chewing. At least he still had the manners to not speak while eating.

They spent time eating their snack in comfortable silence as they watched the golden orb that is the sun slowly sink under the horizon.

“Soooo...whatcha think?” Ouma tilted his head as he grinned--cheek stained with ketchup and mustard. Not at all ashamed of breaking the silence.

“...I think you need to clean your face up,” Kiibo heaved out a sigh as he made a move to wipe the other man’s face with a tissue. “And...you’re right. It’s pretty good. The price is affordable too.”

“Riiiight?! I always try to drop by their stand everyday--except when my schedule doesn’t allow me at all,” Ouma grabbed the tissue from the albino and started wiping his face on his own.

“By the way, there’s something I’ve been wondering about.”

“Mm?”

“I still find it weird that there’s a bench all the way out into the forest.” Kiibo looked around their vicinity. It was his first time visiting the forest area located in the park, and he wasn’t too sure if it’s normal to find a well furnished bench hidden by trees and foliage.

“No, actually,” Ouma paused to finish his last bite. “It wasn’t here before, but maybe I’m not the only person who found this spot after all. Probably asked some of the people in charge to move a bench here.” That’s a lie, of course. This was simply Step 2 of his plan.

“I see...I suppose that makes sense.”

“Well, at least we benefited off of it,” Ouma smiled, stretching his arms over his head before standing up and walking towards the lake. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if it weren’t for the bench.”

“So the bench was the most important thing here and not the view?” Kiibo quirked a brow.

“Of course! My comfort--and in this case, our comfort is way more important than watching the sun,” Ouma wagged a finger as though he was sharing valuable wisdom. “We can enjoy the view better if we’re comfortable.”

“You’re right,” Kiibo then crumpled the hotdog wrapper and shoved it in his pocket. “...Anyway, it’s getting dark. We should head back now.”

“No! Not yet!” Ouma puffed his cheeks. “We’re not here just to watch the sun set. We’re also here to watch the moon rise!”

“The moon...you do realize it would be really dark in the forest if we actually wait for the moon--”

“I know! That’s why I packed a flashlight in my backpack,” Ouma waved a hand in the general direction of his backpack which was resting on the bench.

“You’re awfully prepared for this. Did you plan to lure me out here from the start?” Kiibo shook his head in mild disbelief.

“What if I was? It worked, didn’t it?” Ouma winked. Now this was definitely not a lie. “Relax. Just stay in your seat and watch the moon, alright? We’ll go home as soon as it’s over.”

Aquamarine eyes stared into amethyst. He’s really doing a bad job at winning in conversations today. “Alright. Dinner’s going to be on you tonight.”

“I accept your terms,” Ouma could see it--how relaxed the albino was. His pupils were slowly dilating--the moon wasn’t out yet but the dark sky was starting to affect him. His body knows what’s about to come. Fortunately for both of them, Ouma knows too.

Truth be told, the thought of watching the moon rise filled him with dread.

Kiibo found it odd how he couldn’t remember anything that’s transpired during nighttime for the past few week. He can’t trust himself to study at night because of this. Which is why he rescheduled his studying time to the afternoon. It scared him a little--feeling this way. But surely there wasn’t anything wrong with him? Maybe he was falling asleep without him realizing which is why he doesn’t remember much about the night before…

“Kiiboy, it’s here.”

Prompted by his roommate’s voice, he looked up at the rising moon.

That was when he felt completely odd. His body froze at the sight of the glowing white orb on the darkened sky. His body felt hot. Extremely hot. His bones were aching. His entire body was shaking. His mind was growing blank the longer he stared at the glowing celestial body.

The worst part were his thoughts.

Kill.

Destroy.

Tear it to shreds!!!

Such violent words invaded his mind. Words that have never crossed his mind were filling his headspace. Commanding him to obey. He moved to stand up, trying to steady himself with the bench.

The pain that followed was sharp. Excruciating. It felt like he was being ripped apart and then later reassembled into a form that’s only vaguely his. Much like a badly sewn ragdoll that was given the Frankenstein treatment.

“Gghhk!!” The pain was unbearable. He couldn’t hear himself. But he could feel it. He could feel his throat growing raw from all his screaming. He felt like he was being slowly ripped apart from the seams.

Deaf to his own screams of agony, Kiibo didn’t realize that the sound that left his mouth were no longer screams of a pained human being--but rather the angered howls of a wild beast.

The soft rustling of the trees and the sight of leaves falling like gentle rain did little to calm the situation.

“Heh...not a bad form at all, Kiiboy. You’re honestly a lot bigger than what I expected you to be.“

“But size has never stopped me from putting a pup in its place.“

Their battle was without ceremony. What else do you expect when one of the parties is a rampaging werewolf?

Kiibo was completely acting out on his new instincts. The instinct to kill any and every vampire in sight. Despite his rather large form, his agility was not to be underestimated if Ouma wanted to live. Which he does.

Ouma swiftly transformed into his bat form and flew above his rampaging roommate before reverting to his previous form and landed a strong kick across the werewolf’s torso--sending it flying into a lake. He took this chance to catch his breath and to assess the damages he’s sustained.

“Tch...I won’t be able to hold out for too long at this rate...” he panted. “The one thing I desperately needed but failed to get a hold off--blood. Fucking awesome.” He glared at the torn sight of his navy blue hoodie. “He owes me a new hoodie too.”

The werewolf let out a furious howl as soon as it got out of the lake’s watery depths. It seems kicking him in ice-cold water only made him angrier.

Ouma cursed his exhaustion when he lost his footing mid-dodge. He grunted as his head collided against a tree before getting pinned beneath the growling creature.

“Shit--!!!” Ouma screamed when he felt Kiibo’s canines dig in his right shoulder. “Get off me you dumbass!” he aimed his punches at the albino’s eye in the hopes of making it lose its grip on his shoulder. Fortunately, it worked.

The vampire then struggled to move his legs upwards until his knees are pushing against his chest. “I said get off!!!” He kicked Kiibo on the chest with both of his feet as hard as he could.

Ouma then grabbed a fallen tree by its roots and smacked Kiibo away from him, not giving the werewolf time to recover at all. With a palm resting against his bleeding shoulder, he teleported on the werewolf’s back and dug his nails into its shoulder, eliciting a pained howl followed by another angrier one.

“Oh shut up! I’ve had enough of your BULLSHIT!” It had been centuries since he’s had his fangs out in its full length. It almost felt alien to him. Almost. He made sure to put in all of his strength into this one bite.

The deliciously rich flavor of werewolf blood mixing with Kiibo’s human ones filled his throat much to his content. His strength was returning and he could already feel his wound closing. Even Kiibo was having a hard time getting him off his back due to his growing strength.

Ouma only let go once he felt the muscles and bones beneath him shifting and crunching. He licked his lips as he watched his roommate slowly revert back to his original form. His naked and shivering form.

The vampire then moved to grab his backpack from the mess of fallen trees and pulled out a fresh change of clothes he got for Kiibo. He didn’t miss the confusion in the albino’s eyes when the latter saw his bloodied form approaching him in calm strides.

“What...happened?“ Kiibo’s voice was hoarse. Raw from all his screaming and howling before, during, and after his transformation.

“Oh, nothing much. Just had some intense make out session that got of hand. Ended up destroying a few trees here and there because of how amazing a kisser I was,” Ouma deadpanned. “--Of course that’s a fucking lie! You turned into a werewolf Kiiboy! I could have died!” He tossed the clothing at the albino with a frown.

“A...a werewolf...?” Kiibo blanched at the thought.

“Wear your clothes first. I’ll answer your questions later,“ Ouma idly rubbed his right shoulder, hiding his satisfaction of finding that the wound was no longer there.

Due to the roughhousing earlier, the bench got wrecked into mere splinters, and so they had no other options but to sit on the grass. As Kiibo listened to the voice recording Ouma took with his new phone, he felt dizzier and dizzier. The screaming was definitely his. And although it was a little vague--even during the growling parts, he could still hear traces of his voice coming from it.

Ouma’s bloody face and clothes were an indicator that this wasn’t an elaborate plot just to mess with him.

“I...how? This never happened before!” Kiibo regarded his companion with panicked eyes. “How could I...how could I suddenly turn into a monster?!”

“The ‘dog’ you took care of was a werewolf, you ding-dong,“ Ouma huffed. “How could you even mistake a wolf for a dog!?”

“It was barking, Ouma-kun. Wolves don’t bark! They howl, they growl--they don’t bark as often as dogs do!” Kiibo hissed, faltering a little when the pain from the previous skirmish was finally registering.

“Tch. Terrific acting from an old bastard, I see,” Ouma bit on thumbnail. “...In any case, everything’s going to be okay.”

“Okay? No I’m not! How am I supposed to deal with this?!” Kiibo grunted when he felt a slightly dislocated shoulder pop back into place. One of the perks of his new predicament is his enhanced healing. Not that it made him any happier. “There’s going to be another full moon tomorrow and--I still have a lot of schoolwork to do! I can’t--I can’t possibly juggle being a student and a monster at the same time!”

“Of course you can! All you need is some proper training and you’ll be able to keep your self-awareness even during a full moon,” Ouma patted him on the back. “Dogs can be trained. And you’re practically a big dog. Chin up!”

“Training. I don’t even know where to start.... For one thing I won’t be conscious tomorrow to even think of training, am I?” Kiibo groused, burying his face in his knees.

“It’s fiiine. Because I’m a vampire. I can keep you in check,” Ouma smiled.

Kiibo lifted his head to glare at him. “Look, it’s nice and all that you’re trying to cheer me up. But cracking jokes like that just makes me want to smack you. Because now is definitely not the time for jokes like that.”

“Huh? But it’s not a joke though! See for yourself!” Ouma tapped his neck on the left side, prompting the albino to do the same.

Kiibo froze when he felt two deep puncture wounds on his neck which was still in the process of healing up. He looked up at Ouma, eyes widening in shock when the latter unabashedly showed him his fangs.

He knew that he really should be more shocked--but the revelation that he’s going to be stuck as a werewolf monster for the rest of his life took the brunt of his shock. Not to mention how it felt like he had solved a mysterious riddle surrounding his odd roommate.

“Is that why you’ve been going around licking my wounds all this time?”

“Yup!”

Kiibo hid his face in his hands. His days of peace are now over.

“Nishishi! Don’t worry, I know a thing or two about werewolves~” Ouma snickered. “I’ll train you in exchange for your blood!”

“M...my blood?” Kiibo gulped.

“Mmmhm~” Ouma placed a finger against his own lips. “Now that you’re a werewolf, I could feed to my heart’s content without worrying about turning you~”

“I...I see...” Kiibo’s mind was reeling from the new knowledge. He knew he didn’t have much choice. Ouma was a vampire--another monster. He was pretty much the only person who can restrain him in his werewolf form as proven by this night alone. This was his only bet of maintaining his normal life without causing trouble for everyone. “...Alright. I accept.”

Ouma’s pupils narrowed into slits as he smirked. “That settles that then.”

#ndrv3 #ouma kokichi #kiibo #katastrofic writing #katastrofic doodle #in the dark au #tw: blood #tw: violence

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whetstonefires · 5 years

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enigma vs. owlman in a battle of wits

XD In a sense this is Ed’s whole life already. I mean, if he slips up in his precautions--and there are whole subsets of the Circus’ security that are basically his sole responsibility for years, because he’s the only one who can really do computers--he’s gonna die.

Or potentially lose most of the people he cares about and not die, which might be even more upsetting to contemplate.

But beyond that particular game of cat and mouse, which is a group effort anyway...

Eddie and Harvey are the members of the Circus who think the most like Owlman--not just for demographic reasons, though that may play in, but because they have similar relationship to the rules. They all give themselves very free permission to break various rules in various ways, and they don’t always perceive the same ruleset since Harvey thinks in legal terms while Ed cares about rules (both explicit and implicit) in the sense that they’re what make games interesting and indeed playable, and Bruce thinks in...declarative terms, in Correct and Incorrect, Adequate and Inadequate, Worthwhile and Worthless.

But they’re all perpetually aware of rules and whether they’re breaking them or not and how this applies to Winning, and while Enigma’s cleverer and Owlman has better tactical processing, the best way to gain an edge against either of them is to figure out where his rules are, and do an end-run around them.

So mostly, this comes down to whose area of expertise the situation plays to, and (more generally) who cheats better. Or, well. Who more effectively exploits the other guy’s weaknesses.

And you’d think that would make it Owlman all the time, since ‘being a decent person’ is an extremely exploitable weakness, from the perspective of someone who’s not. But pride and inflexibility are pretty easy to exploit, too. Owlman will stop to solve a puzzle that challenges him saucily enough, even if there’s nothing forcing him to, because it’s very difficult for him to bear leaving open the possibility that he couldn’t figure it out. Ed will want to do this, but as his self-image isn’t primarily vested in supremacy he’ll have an easier time shaking it off.

Head to head, it’s oddly enough going to come down to prep time, I think, as a lot of Batman’s versus scenarios do.

Some sort of largely physical battle of misdirection and stealth, Owlman would pretty surely win against Ed solo unless Enigma got a lot of time to prepare or had a lucky break. A riddle contest Enigma will almost definitely win, but forewarned Owlman might be able to give him a fight.

If they get to take turns setting clever death traps, Ed’s traps will be better conceived and constructed (assuming similar materials available) but lack the same level of lethality because he’s really not a bloodthirsty guy, even when evil.

A longterm, wide-scale, almost political battle of plot and counter-plot is hard to score because that pretty much by its nature involves other people, and Enigma would be getting feedback and input from at least some of them as he went along, while Owlman most probably wouldn’t. And since that kind of matchup comes down to knowledge and control of terrain and information as much as to actual cleverness, it would be almost more a battle of networking styles than of wits.

Which brings us back to Ed’s Life Basically.

‘For the Princess? To the death?’ gives Ed the advantage, sort of, because while he’s got his pride he’s a lot less worried about looking ridiculous. Except of course since there aren’t a lot of viable hostages against Owlman, getting Bruce to play along with something like that and not just break his nose (or stab the girl if he was for some reason the one to issue the challenge and didn’t like how it was going) would be a job in itself.

So Ed’s main challenge in a battle of wits would be that he’d have to keep Owlman from tipping over the board at the possibility of losing, and his main weapon in doing that is implying that cutting the knot and resorting to violence would basically be ‘turning over the board because he might be losing,’ like a spoiled five-year-old.

The need to split his attention this way would not help his odds of being the one to see all the pieces, of course, but if he was succeeding then he’d have the advantage that Owlman was in a reactionary pattern and thus easier to predict.

If for some reason this part was unnecessary--i.e. kidnapped by aliens who demand they competitively solve puzzles--Enigma is more likely than not to come out ahead, simply because Owlman for all his raw intelligence is so much in the habit of resorting to force, either via direct violence or bringing his massive influence to bear, and when for some reason that’s an option he can’t or won’t deploy, the habit slows his reaction time.

It’s not that he doesn’t use subtle tactics a lot, especially with people like Selina (mostly because it’s fun) and Clark (because short of installing some kind of fail-proof Kryptonite control device it’s necessary) and Diana (because adfdkld fjar;ljadffje), and of course dealing with the government, but that’s generally from a place of having a plan to resort to brute force if this falls through and/or having accepted that this is a situation that Calls For Subtlety.

If he found himself without the option of falling back on his superior power against someone like Ed, whom he refuses to respect, he’d also lose considerable processing speed and mental agility to fuming over the indignity of it all.

Being evil gives you a much larger toolset, and more access to expedient options, but in consequence it really does encourage a fundamental laziness. Because so often the only logical response to a problem is to squash it, if squashing is Fine. (This is also why imo all other things being equal Owlman will usually lose to Batman.)

#earth-3 #ask meme #owlman #enigma #versus #meta #battle of wits #i had to design my Owlman with this kind of psychological weakness #to make him function as a supervillain who could be meaningfully opposed by Our Heroes #but i think its internal logic is sound #but on the other foot enigma is not and has never been a solo hero #hoc est meum #gotta run #cineresis #ask

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thelimeonade · 5 years

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Introducing my WIPs

As requested by the very welcoming, funny @zburatorii

Evolve: to forget is my current online WIP! You can find it on Wattpad by clicking on here! It is the first part of a trilogy! It’s dystopian\Utopian along with adventure, fiction with side themes such as thriller, romance. The book revolves in the future after WW8 has been declared over, leaving mankind on the verge of extinction and now all inhabiting a small area in, what was previously known as, Western Europe. They are now all united under one flag, one crown, one government: The United Kingdom of Mekar. -->Le blurp\Description: Man's greed for power and dominance has always been the reason. The greatest proof of this is the Era of the inhumane, barbaric World Wars which sent mankind scuttling to unite their numbers to avoid extinction. Limited to a small area in - what was once - Western Europe, a new civilization awoke: The United Kingdom of Mekar. Divided into eight sections plus the Royal Capital of Orbis. The most brutal, yet efficient, way of survival where 'To Forget is To Evolve', with it the past has been demolished with ferocity to avoid another uprising risking their extinction. Many believe that those ways are effective. But there are others who strongly beg to differ; however, they can't expose themselves as it meant risking their lives. Emilia Adonis, a 25 year old woman from Hell-Bay, the most discarded section of Mekar, has been chosen by King Jayden to represent her section in The Versency - the royal race that takes place every time the King or Queen of Mekar dies. The greatest event in the history of the Kingdom where death becomes your constant companion with the final line either being your ultimate death in the most gruesome way, or the throne of Mekar. With the fate of thousands of Hell-Bayers resting on her shoulder, Emilia strives to reach the throne and end the period of negligence that loomed over the section ever since its formation (due to the fact that no Hell-Bay contestant has ever won The Versency). She teams up with Zain and Hailey Hill, twins from Hell-Bay whose future is also dependent on the throne. They all face problems igniting between them along with the trail of mercenaries and royal beasts unleashed on the contestants. But what exactly happens when a lot more than beasts are threatening your life? When those who abide by the system meet the rebels? When the past clashes with the present, affecting the future and nothing is as it seems? When the race becomes a prison with no way out whether you win or lose? [P.s. Thanks to @mediocre-prose for promoting this book]

Pontifex this is an under-development book that is not published online nor is placed on draft; however, all the ideas and main plot points are written down in a notebook. This book is action\crime following serial killer and hit-man Xavier Pontifex also known as The Phoenix who has been active for over a total of twenty years without leaving a single trace behind. It’s part one of a two book series. [Second book follows Xavierre Pontifex, his daughter] --> le blurp\Description: Xavier Pontifex: A man who has the looks, the charm, the strength, the agility, the wit and the reflex to rule the entire world single handed without failing. He may look like the typical person, with a normal job, but what he harbors underneath is much darker. Being a professional killer, a hit-man, a serial killer that leaves no piece of evidence or trace behind, sending the world into chaos as they try to find out his identity, labeling him as ‘The Phoenix’ always comes with a price. From the streets of Florence, Italy to those of New York, U.S.A. we follow Xavier Pontifex on his journey for self-comfort and ridding himself of the demons in his head, his own twin brother. Facing more conflicts than ever and realizing that the rule ‘Only a life can pay for another’ is much more than it really is…

Onyx Ivories is an online work on Wattpad that is on pause and editing since I realized that dumbass me forgot to write down VERY IMPORTANT KEY POINTS THROUGHOUT THE BOOK and now shit is ruined. It’s an action fiction but you won’t find that out until the second part in the book [Since the book is split into two major parts and an epilogue] P.s. the blurp is misleading (because I am an evil writer) You can check itout by clicking here!! --> le blurp\Description: Aqua Abraham steps off the bus into Pyro Camp where she intends to achieve all her dreams with one stone - winning her Ex back, Julian Monroe, as well as a scholarship. By rolling her onyx 5 ten-sided dice given to her on her first night, she's given one unique 5-digit code that's her key to everything around the camp along with adventures, little does she know the secrets that the code with the dice hold. It won't only lead her to all her dreams but also something much bigger.

Extinct Galactic MY BABY, MY PRIDE AND JOY, MY MOST DEVELOPED LIL CUPCAKE WHO I AM INTENDING FOR PUBLISHING!!!! It’s a four to six book series!!! And the plot and idea is too big to fit here but I’ll be sharing Excerpts of it here! (better than the last shitty one that you can read over here, I promise) It’s a sci-fi\Fantasy series THAT WILL BLOW YOUR WIG OFF ALL THE WAY TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE!!! [Hopefully....] For more details click heeeereeee!! (p.s. Characters page is still a wip) --> faint blurp: When the Creator of all Life –Pratham– is gone, killed by the Council of the Universe, and Death–Azazel lives on, the Council would do anything to right their wrong before Azazel’s darkness wipes the entire universe out. Including exterminating an entire race, an entire galaxy to find life again. --> a few quotes: “Perhaps we were created to die in order to right a wrong. We were never meant to exist.” -Aximus Power [Book Character] “Today, we write history. We will no longer be degraded as Dunams, we will show them what mankind, children of Milkyway, has to offer of courage, loyalty and wits.” -Kahera [Book Character] “I didn’t know what you have done to save us. I only saw a self-centered, demanding, spoiled brat Queen on a throne... not the selfless warrior who drained herself every single day to keep us alive in secret.” -Ximen Cysgod [Book Character] “You have disowned her, you have treated her like scum, you have let her die in vain, you didn’t do shit to stop Jobiia from taking her when she had given up everything to save us! To save the people who had abandoned her! and now you dishonor her last wishes? How fucking dare you?” -Frontress Pulse [Book Character]

yes I have a wip that’s based off Egyptian Mythology but no details yet

I have a million old ideas that I am thinking about rewriting but let’s just get through this first

I also have a sappy romance novel that.... will never see light

Welp. That’s all for now!!!!

As you can see I am quite experienced in multiple genres so I can give you a billion tips on how to survive!

Tell me which WIP is by far the one you are most excited to read!!!

Please reblog and/or like this if you like my WIPs introduction and want to see more! Follow me if you are feeling kind and I’ll follow you back and whoever reblogs this!!!

I LOVE YOU ALL *drops microphone*

Feel free to send me any questions, requests, asking for help, compliments, whatever you like by clicking here!

For my latest Tips on ‘How to write an Evil character’ click here!

For more about me click here!!!

For my Lime-blr (Writeblr) intro, click here!! [idk why I added it... just felt like it]

#writer #writers #new writeblr #writeblr #new writers on tumblr #new writerblr #new writer #my wips #wips #so many wips #too many wips #thelimeonade #Extinct Galactic #im dying #book #my book #idk how to tag this

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rerollpodcast-blog · 6 years

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Why are there so many grapplers?

If you’ve been playing for a while, then I’m guessing at some point you’ve played with someone who played “a grappler” character. Even if you haven’t, the internet is full of stories and anecdotes of players that build their character around the grappler mechanic (in fact one of my players’ grappler died and he just made another grappler). Now, I’m not badmouthing them, but it did get me wondering: why is the grappler so ubiquitous? I spent a lot of time thinking about this and I think that the underlying answer actually has a lot to say about the way we play and think about martials in 5e. To explain why, we’re going to have a look at the differences between magical and martial classes, the shortcomings of the latter, and how to make life more interesting for your martial players.

Jackie Chan: the epitome of a martial

First, let’s look at the way magical classes are set up. Let’s say you wanted to create a new magic-based character. In terms of playstyle, you have quite a lot of options. You can be the blasty-mage that throws fireballs and lightning bolts. You can be a healer, supporting the party and tending to their wounds. You can be a Loki-like trickster, focusing on illusions and charms and deception. You can be a summoner, or a shapeshifter. Or you can focus on utility and be able to change terrain and crowd control your foes. You get so many options as a mage, and that’s not even counting the many ways you can mix and match your spell lists, or the completely different mechanics that each magical class has on their own.

Martials on the other hand are considerably more limited. Their options boil down to essentially: do you want to use two handed weapons, do you want to use an offhand weapon, do you want to use a ranged weapon, or do you want a shield. And even after those exciting choices, they largely all play the same way: run up to/away from something, roll a d20 and then do some damage. Compared to mages, martials just can’t compare in terms of playstyle options. Hell, just look at what’s available to a level 1 wizard compared to a level 1 fighter. The wizard gets to pick 9 spells from a list of 65. Fighters get to pick 4 weapons from a list of 36, most of which do the same thing or are inferior versions of each other.

Now at this point you may retort: “but flavour wise, the classes feel different.” And you are right on this point, but it is very discouraging when your flavour choices don’t reflect in your gameplay. The mysterious, Loki-like, illusion-specced mage plays very differently to the trigger-happy, fireball throwing mage. On the other hand, we have both the gallant longsword-wielding Champion Fighter and the savage warhammer wielding Berserker Barbarian who just run up to things and hit them for 1d10+STR mod damage.

Martials end up feeling like the mechanical equivalent of the Mass Effect 3 ending

And that’s where I think grapplers come in. Mechanically speaking, grapplers just feel different to traditional martial gameplay. Rather than roll a d20 and compare to AC, you have a contested roll-off against your DM; that’s an exciting tension beat. Instead of inflicting damage, you inflict a status; that opens up new strategies. You get to move your target, you get to set up your target for co-operative attacks. I don’t think people play grapplers because they’re inherently fun to play, they play them because there aren’t many other variants of a martial to explore. The grappler just feels different, and most importantly, feels like a uniquely martial style of gameplay; it’s not like Gandalf ever did judo. But what do we do about this? How do we “fix” the martial classes to make them feel like individual classes? How do we make the martial classes feel like they’re more than just different flavours of attacks? Well in my opinion, there are three main methods: items, techniques, and environment.

First up, let’s look at items. Items (especially homebrewed ones) are a really easy way to tailor a character to a certain playstyle vision since you can let them do literally anything. Of course, the type of items you give is important. If you want to play into a flavour archetype, you need to look beyond just adding more damage, it needs to either play to their strengths, overcome their weaknesses, or synergise with their mechanics. It’s probably why the “blink dagger” is such a classic item to introduce for a rogue player. It lets the rogue be sneaky, be agile, zip around, and most importantly: stab people. The mechanics of the item fit with the flavour of the character. It makes a rogue play uniquely like a rogue.

It helps here if you already know what your player wants out of their character. For example, I had a (revised) ranger player whose backstory involved them being the fantasy equivalent of a secret agent. So, I gave them a bow that could attach special arrowheads like Hawkeye, turning them into more of a stealth-infiltrator-utility character. That player went wild with that bow, using it for everything from long range shackles, smoke bombs, and grappling hooks. They even opted to keep it after bows that did more damage became available. I’d like to think it’s because it let them feel uniquely like a ranger; stealthing around and setting traps, playing with cunning rather than pure strength.

Slightly disappointed I didn’t see a USB arrow

Now, items are all well and good, but they do have their limitation in that they require a bit of knowledge of what your players want already, require some skill in homebrewing, and are largely DM driven. After all, we’re trying to make enticing options for creating martial characters, but your player won’t know what items they’re getting when they create their character. Instead, let’s look at something that’s largely player driven: techniques. When I say techniques, I’m referring to abilities that aren’t hard-written into the rules of D&D but are instead flavourful abilities that players ascribe to their actions and require the DM to adjudicate effects on. For example: the ranger that asks if they can shoot at a flying creature’s wings to bring them down; that would be an example of a technique. It’s not something that’s strictly in the ranger’s abilities or in the rules for flying, but it would make sense from an in-game perspective.

Techniques like these can be extremely useful for when players want to feel like their individual strengths make a difference in-game. A bow toting ranger may be able to make that shot at the enemy’s wings, but not the axe wielding barbarian, and you want to reward those strengths and creative thinking. I have a barbarian/enforcer rogue player that has a spear that lights itself on fire. Originally my intent with the item was just that it sets creatures on fire for extra damage. Ironically however, she’s used it for just about everything except that. She’s done everything from creating sparks to blind people, lighting explosive materials on fire, melting gears in a construct’s arm to disable them, and stabbing it in an ogre’s back to ride them around Batman-on-a-mutated-henchman style. None of these are strictly in the rules, and thus required me to come up with a ruling and a check on the spot. I like to encourage her to request these techniques though because they let her play her barbarian-rogue the way she envisioned them; a swashbuckling pirate that likes fighting dirty.

Dale Gribble knows what I’m talking about

Our final differentiation method is one that let’s both the player and the DM control the input: the environment. In a way, the environment is like a combination of the above two methods, it’s like providing a short-term item that creative players can make a technique with. And its so easy to implement too, just describe your battlegrounds more. You certainly don’t need to come up with a list of potential actions that your players could use with every single item in the room like you were coding a video game, your players will come up with it for you. All you need to do is make sure your players know that they’re fighting in more than a featureless void and they’ll get to work. Indeed, my best players even start asking me if there’s certain objects in the room, just so they can enact some crazy plan they’ve come up with. Nine times out of ten, I’ll say yes, just to see what they do.

The best part about using the environment is that different classes will see the environment in different ways, and utilise it depending on their strengths. The agile rogue may see a hanging chandelier as a convenient method to get across the room, while the eagle-eyed ranger may see it as a heavy object to shoot down on their enemy. The brazier of coals can be knocked over by the cunning fighter to slow the enemy, or the savage barbarian can throw their foe into it to cook them alive.

This is going too far though

So, now we know three good methods for providing class differentiation. But, here comes the tricky part: convincing your players to use them. You see, the methods are not overly difficult, and I would argue that a lot of them are more fun than just vanilla attacking. Unfortunately, in a lot of cases, attacking just seems to be the strictly better option. Why take a creature down by shooting its wings, when you can just take it down by killing it? Why bother knocking over a brazier to slow down your enemies, when you can just stab them? In other words, what’s the incentive to be creative?

Personally, I like to encourage it in a few ways. First, is that I don’t make fights overly punishing. When players know that they don’t need to optimise every single action to come out victorious, they feel the freedom to mess around a bit more and go for the fun plays. That barbarian-rogue I mentioned before? Sure, she’s done all those cool things; but she’s also failed at a whole lot more. But, punishment is rarely anything more serious than if she had missed an attack, so she feels free to try again another time.

The second is the inverse of the first. When my players try something out of the ordinary, I like to reward them. If they attempt a technique as an action, I will make sure that the successful result is at least as useful as an action spent attacking. If my fighter knocked over that brazier of coals, my minions will over-react, taking the long way around, or attacking in a way that lets the fighter knock them back into the coals for even more damage. Nothing kills a player’s enthusiasm quite as much as pulling off what they thought was a great move, only to find out it achieved next to nothing.

Finally, I like to encourage creative fighting by joining in on the fun myself. Particularly noteworthy NPC’s have special weapons and items that make them feel like more than just vanilla damage dealers. My NPC’s attempt big plays just as much as my players do, and mess around with the environment like a player would. I’ll admit, I’ve even thrown a few NPC grapplers at my players just for the fun of it. Not only does seeing the DM do these methods assure the player that it’s okay to do them, it also inspires them to try their own things.

I hope that this has helped inspire you and your players to explore the potential of the martial classes again. Instead of resorting to one-note tricks like playing a “grappler,” try to use items, techniques, and environments to bolster creativity, and let martial classes really shine. So many times, I’ve heard people complain that martials are just plain boring compared to all of the options that magical classes have. And while it may be true that magical classes get many more options than martials, I’ve found that once you give martials anything to work with, they end up using it even more creatively than the mages do with their spells. So, work with your martials, and maybe we can finally remove all these luchadore stories from the front page of Reddit.

#dnd martials dndadvice grapplers luchadores

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theseaeaglelives · 3 years

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Round 20

THE SEA EAGLE

MAKING RUGBY LEAGUE GREAT AGAIN!!!

Under the spectre of what has been described as the most intensive Covid bio-security protocols ever devised Manly faced off against their perennial whipping boys (ie The Sharks) at their new home ground, Lang Park.

With both sides donning face masks as they took to the field the Sea Eagle was somewhat bemused with this protocol give the likelihood that both teams would then spend the next 80 minutes in close contact slobbering all over each other. Perhaps, given the proven deadly nature of this current Delta variant, and as an extra bio security measure, not to mention novelty factor, it should have been a requirement that both teams retain their masks for the entirety of the game, with both penalties and/or fines applied should a player lose or fail to maintain proper use of said mask at all times.

Manly dominated the opening stanza, but a combination of plucky Shark defence and poor execution delayed the inevitable, and it was only a miraculous put down by Jason Saab (Turbo) that broke the deadline. In attack, Saab has been a revelation for Manly this year and generally it has been his blistering speed which has created opportunities. In this instance it was his agility that came to the fore, another attribute that has been missing on the Manly flanks in recent years.

Saab doubled up only minutes later on the back of some fine lead up work by the usual suspects, Cherry baby and Tommy Turbo. Rueben Garrick continued his fine form with the boot converting both from the side-line.

Just when Manly looked to run roughshod, against the run of play the Sharks hit back. The final 10 minutes of the half was nothing short of shambolic from Manly. With mistakes aplenty and poor execution, somehow the Sharks got themselves back in the contest reducing Manly’s lead to 16-10 at oranges.

No doubt fired up by a well-deserved half-time spray from Master Coach Hasler, Manly came out all guns blazing in the second half. Not surprisingly, it was Tommy Turbo who led the way running in three tries in quick succession to put the Sharks to the sword. There is nothing else that can be said about Tommy Turbo apart from if he stays fit Manly can win a comp.

Manly dominated the second half eventually racking up a 40-22 win, a score line that would have been far more embarrassing for the Sharks had Manly not forgotten how to play footy in the later part of each half.

This win sees Manly having won 17 of their past 21 encounters against the hapless Sharks truly emphasising the full extent to which they have become Manly’s whipping boys in period of dominance dating back to the 1973 GF.

This round saw the Eels go down 28-0 to the Roosters and the Panthers get a 37-10 shellacking at the hands of the Filthy Wrestlers. To coin a phrase from cycling it would appear that even this far out from the finals both the Eels and Panthers have “cracked” and in the Sea Eagles opinion neither will be a factor come September. The demise of the Eels and Panthers has provided an opening for Manly but they will need to be far more ruthless than they have been in recent weeks.

Next week Manly take on the Filthy Wrestlers in a game that will provide a more accurate measure of how they rate in season 2021. Its fair to say the Storm are the clear yard stick this year and soft wins against bottoms feeders the likes of the Sharks, Dragons and Tigers will count for little.

A bit like the NRL, the ongoing COVID debacle continues to be the gift that keeps giving as our bumbling political leaders stumble and blunder from one Fu7&ck up to another in scenes more reminiscent of Yes Minister or perhaps more appropriately Faulty Towers.

The NRL has not been immune to the Covid debacle with last season postponed for months and this season teetering on the verge of collapse with the latest Delta Airlines surge. Thus far only the decisive actions of no-nonsense NRL Chairman Peter V’landys, who has dragged governments kicking and screaming on his mission has allowed the NRL to keep going.

During the current Covid debacle, we have no doubt seen headlines, that in a pre-covid era would have been quite frankly unimaginable. At this juncture it may be worth revisiting some of these old (and no so old) gems that have been dished up.

90 Year Old Dies in Nursing Home – 7 News

https://7news.com.au/lifestyle/health-wellbeing/coronavirus-in-australia-death-toll-rises-after-another-death-at-newmarch-house-in-sydney-c-1002027

If you had predicted this leading news headline 2 years ago, you would have been committed to said Nursing Home and interned in the dementia ward.

Wests Tigers player James Roberts fined, banned by NRL for one game after COVID-19 breach – ABC News 28 July 2021

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-07-28/nrl-james-roberts-fined-banned-for-one-game-for-covid-19-breach/100331814

It was reported last week that the troubled Tigers centre had been fined for of all things, breaching Covid protocols by doing of all things, briefly going out on his high-rise unit balcony to hang up a towel and get some fresh air while in mandatory quarantine in QLD. It fair to say that over the years rugby league atrocities and poor player behaviour have reached new heights, but this is not one of them.

The fact that someone in QLD Health could even come up with such a Covid protocol beggars’ belief and the Sea Eagle would love to see the science that supports this one. In fact, in the Sea Eagle’s opinion whoever came up with this one should find themselves also interned in aforementioned dementia ward.

BBQ bad boy Paul Vaughan finds new home in the NRL – News.com 27 July 2021

https://www.news.com.au/sport/nrl/bbq-bad-boy-paul-vaughan-finds-new-home-in-the-nrl/news-story/59dccf7be9647a3a644f08218a20b478

For organising and hosting a team BBQ following a rare win, Dragons forward Vaughan found himself the NRL poster boy for Covid breaches in 2021, has been sacked, fined and will not play again this year. Add to this, he has now been afforded the moniker of “Bad Boy” a title in previous years that was only worthy if you had simulated sex with a dog, pissed in their own mouth or ended up in jail, none of which Mr Vaughan, or Mr Roberts (see above) has come even close to (on this occasion anyway).

It is fair to say circa 2021, team BBQs are no longer kosha even in the absence or Labrador retrievers or small poodle crosses.

Do Not Touch that Ball

https://7news.com.au/sport/afl/duck-your-heads-afl-fans-sas-top-medico-c-2997200

Of all the Covid buffoonery thus far, in the Sea Eagles opinion this one takes the cake. In a statement not too dissimilar to the instructions Master Coach Des Hasler would have given to Tony “T-Rex” Williams prior to the 2011 GF, South Australia’s Chief Health Officer’s advice to the spectators at an AFL game was something to the effect of “If the ball comes towards you, my advice is to duck and do not touch that ball”.

The is no further comment necessary and in this Olympic week, when we are looking for the crème del a crème of foot in mouth moments and clear example of being disconnected from the world the rest of us actually live in, this one clearly take GOLD GOLD GOLD (as Norman May would say).

And finally ponder this one. Why is it that so many of the states Chief Health Officers, appear so unhealthy looking (personal opinion)?

OLYMPIC PREDICTIONS GONE SO WRONG

‘Smug’ Aussies called out over shock selection gamble in world record - Fox Sports July 29th, 2021

Australia’s bronze in the women’s 4x200m freestyle relay has been shrouded by claims of “arrogance” and “curious” tactics calls that saw a gold medal go begging……………...

There we were mid-week, watching the Aussie gals tear up the pool in downtown Tokyo, when we had to endure more experts on Ch 7 in the am breakfast segment. To be fair, these Olympic experts do have credibility, most having won a medal of some description.

However, if ever there was proof positive that having achieved Olympic success does not a great commentator make, Giaan Rooney's efforts in her early prediction for the women's 4 x 200 freestyle relay would on any objective analysis, be a time that she no doubt would wish she could have again.

Asked the simple question on the morning of the event, “how do you think we're gonna go in this one” Giann’s response was something along the lines of “it's not a question of whether we will win it's only a question of by how much”.

Australia duly went out, and then made a selection error when they picked their fastest swimmer and gold medallist Ariarne Titmus to lead out, rather than anchor the team (Ariarne being the best chaser in the business at this level). They then compounded the error by putting their slowest swimmer last to take on that difficult task of anchoring the team and getting the job done under pressure (against the likes of Katie Ledecky et al). The Aussies duly got the bronze even though they broke a world record in the process. The only problem was that the two teams that got first and second broke world records as well.

The Sea Eagle has said this before and he will say it again. Favourites get beaten, and it is extraordinarily unwise to call a win of this type in this way as Ms Rooney did, because as we all know, major embarrassment can be the only outcome when claims of this type are made before the event has been run and the Stewards have declared correct weight (personal opinion).

With that said, the Sea Eagle will say that Ms Rooney’s efforts in most other areas of the commentary were on an overall basis pretty good. But if she wants to become a truly great commentator, then she needs to examine how Thorpey handled it. He was pressed on many occasions in the commentary by someone called Basil (who also has a role as a politician in Perth – enough said) as to who was going to win certain events usually in the middle of the race.

But when pressed Thorpey usually resisted the temptation to go all out and claim it. However, when he knew there was a winner he was prepared to back himself and he always got it right (as an example see how he called Caleb Dressler as a winner after 15 metres in the men's 50 freestyle final). In the Sea Eagle’s opinion, Thorpey’s efforts throughout the first week in the pool, as a commentator, were the equivalent of his effort when he was swimming. We need more commentators like him who are knowledgeable, and prepared to call it as it is, rather than how some gibberer in middle management thinks the way viewers might want to hear it. More often than not Thorpey gets it right, and if he is unsure, he holds back on sprouting rubbish and gives a considered analysis of possible outcomes, thus only enhancing his reputation and his credibility.

THE SEA EAGLE

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gamerssphere · 6 years

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Today we got to see the very first event in Saudi Arabia for the WWE when they brought the Greatest Royal Rumble. This event had to be rather compliant with many different requests from the country’s organizers, as well as laws, of course, therefore, they had to be really specific on what sort of show they’d be bringing.

The very first match of the night featured the Cerebral Assassin, Triple H, facing John Cena. The match started with some clash of strength by both of them, trying to show who was more powerful. This is certainly set to be an interesting show. Triple H was getting the upper hand at the beginning, going as far as mocking Cena’s “You Can’t See Me” hand gesture multiple times.

The match is really good and interesting, Triple H is going slowly, methodically, paused, and every single time Cena tried to attack back, Triple H was able to counter his attempts. This is a visual beauty of a match; however, Cena is looking too weak against The Game. I hadn’t seen such a weak John Cena since his Wrestlemania match against The Undertaker, but before that, I don’t remember seeing him in such a weak state.

Finally, Cena starts to fight back and goes as far as hitting an Attitude Adjustment on Triple H, but The Game was able to kick out. Right after that, Triple H got out of a second Attitude Adjustment to go into his Pedigree right away, but Cena kicked out at 2 as well.

Then, after a chain of an STF from Cena, to a crossed clutch by The Game, Cena hits Triple H with 2 Attitude Adjustments to win the match.

The second match of the event is for the Cruiserweight Championship between the current champion, Cedric Alexander and Kalisto. This starts completely different to the previous match, both competitors are going through some chain wrestling with the usual agility that is the main weapon 205 Live contestants bring to the ring. After a great match between them, the champion retains his title.

The third match of the event has The Bar (Sheamus & Cesaro) versus Woken Matt Hardy and Bray Wyatt for the RAW Tag Team Championship. This is an interesting match given how The Bar is no longer part of RAW as they were moved to SmackDown Live during the Superstar Shake-Up.

At first, the newest Tag Team from RAW was dominating and animating the crowd, until The Bar started to play their heel roles during this match, which turned the table for the match.With great combination of a Twist of Fate with the help of Bray, Matt and Bray finally become the new RAW Tag Team Champions!

The next match of the event is for the United States Championship as we have Jeff Hardy defending against Jinder Mahal. The match starts with Jinder’s usual aggressiveness against Jeff, but the champion is able to counter him, keeping in mind that Jinder isn’t alone as he comes with Sunil Sighn.

There was an interesting botch in this match as Jeff tried the Whisper in the Wind but failed, and Jinder still went down, a few seconds late.

After an intervention by Sunil, Jeff is able to counter Jinder’s Khallas and use his normal Twist of Fate + Swanton Bomb to retain his title.

Now we have the SmackDown Tag Team Champions, The Bludgeon Brothers, defending their titles against The Usos. The former champions came into this match completely synchronized, using that to their advantage against the current champions. However, The Bludgeon Brothers are too strong, and fast, and they ended up retaining their titles.

The next match of the event is a Ladder Match for the Intercontinental Championship between Seth Rollins, Samoa Joe, The Miz and Finn Balor. This ought to be a great match, a contender to steal the show.

To nobody’s surprise, this was a great match all around. Every single one of the competitors went all in for the title, giving a good use to those ladders, of course. The Miz, former Intercontinental Champion, gave a great match, going against all of his opponents and coming out on top of them in multiple times.

In the end, surprisingly, Seth Rollins was able to retain his title due to how quick and agile he is, as Finn was about to reach the belt, but Seth jumped from the ropes to the ladder, and “stole” the belt from Finn.

Now we get the introduction of 4 candidates to join the WWE from Saudi Arabia, but in the middle of this promo, the Daivari Brothers come into the ring with the flag of their country: Iran.

The next match of the night is for the WWE Championship between AJ Styles and Shinsuke Nakamura. First thing to note is that the WWE gave Nakamura’s entrance some lyrics, and the way in which Nakamura moved was completely different than what we are used to see. It is also worth saying: it is great to see AJ’s entrance with pyro.

After about 2 hours and a half of almost complete silence in the crowd, we finally see them chanting, moving, cheering. Saudi Arabia seemed to need AJ vs Nakamura to wake up, because they do not chant the usual out-of-the-ring count, they don’t chant the usual “1, 2,…” when there’s a pin going on. But now, the crowd is reacting, and it is awesome to see and hear.

In the end, AJ Styles retains his title due to a double count-out. This keeps Nakamura in the championship run for sure, maybe we’ll see them in a no disqualification match in a future PPV.

Next on we have The Undertaker versus Rusev in a Casket Match. After a rather quick and aggressive match, The Undertaker got both, Rusev and Aiden English into the casket to win the match.

It is now time to go into the Steel Cage for the Universal Championship match between Brock Lesnar and Roman Reigns. We have to admit how great entrances are when pyro is in place.

The match starts with a Suplex City, there was no time to do anything, Brock literally went in to kill Roman. Four consecutive German Suplex followed by one F5. This is overkill. Lesnar is only sweating because he sweats like a beast.

Roman finally counters with 3 Superman Punches followed by a spear attempt that Brock defends against. Roman is close to get out of the cage until Brock takes him back in, leaving him the space to get out of the cage himself; however, Brock doesn’t seem comfortable at all going up the cage, which gives Roman time to get back on his feet.

Roman hits the first spear on Brock, immediately followed by a second one. Brock is still alive in the match though, so he uses the same spear he used against The Undertaker in Wrestlemania 33, with some push from the ropes and counts, but Brock kicks out. Roman is about to get out of the cage through the door, but Paul Heyman closes it on Roman’s face to help his client. Brock hits the second F5 and pins Roman, but he kicks out. Heyman throws a chair into the cage and Brock takes his gloves off before taking the chair, but Roman hits his fourth Spear. Brock kicked out again.

Roman takes the chair and starts hitting Brock with it. Even the referee cringes to these hits. Roman hits the fourth Superman Punch of the match. Roman hits a Spear against the wall of the cage which breaks it, and the ref says Brock has retained the championship. Contested, Roman’s feet were the first ones to hit the floor. This won’t end like this.

It is time for the main event of the show: the 50 men Royal Rumble match. There’s a shiny trophy accompanied by a Championship Belt waiting for the winner of this match.

The very first entrant is Daniel Bryan, followed by Dolph Ziggler. There’s really no point on talking too much about what happened in the hour and 30 minutes that it lasted for, so let’s jump to what happened at the end, and which surprise contestants we got to see.

Surprises:

And, after 1 hour 16 minutes and 5 seconds in the match, Big Cass throws Daniel Bryan over the top rope, to get to the ending of this match between him and Braun Strowman, who has thrown over 10 men over the ropes. In the end, the winner of the very first Greatest Royal Rumble is Braun Strowman.

Overall, the show was really good, although, there were absolutely no changes in championship belts, which is highly disappointing. When it comes to the crowd, it was quiet for most of the show, which is also disappointing given how wrestling is alive thanks to fans’ reactions, and even though matches were super interesting, it is a rather bittersweet ending, with an awful ending to AJ vs Nakamura, a controversial ending to Brock vs Roman, a 50 men Royal Rumble in which most of the wrestlers didn’t last 5 minutes. At least, Braun has won this match, and I hope they do something with that quite stylish belt.

#WWEGRR #Recap #WWE #GreatestRoyalRumble Today we got to see the very first event in Saudi Arabia for the WWE when they brought the…

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thisiswhereifall · 6 years

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Struggling to continue but I'm back

Hi! I'm back! Maybe not for long, but here I am!

College has been keeping me busy but I promise to do my best to keep contributing to this wonderful fandom. I love this ship so much, and it needs more art and fics. I'm proud of us, guys!

Anyway, I sort of mixed the prompts Secrets, Peanut Butter Cookies, and Headphones here to make up for lost time. Thank you all for your patience!

----------- o -----------

Keith wouldn't say that he actually had an idea of what's going on, but he did have one.

Keith normally never cared about anything that didn't involve fighting, war, or his identity and he still doesn't.

Keith had a habit of not setting issues aside and he does not intend to try solving a problem later on if it could be solved now.

Keith had an idea of what's going on, and even though he would never care about what comes of it, he will most definitely not just set it aside. It might affect teamwork, after all. Might.

And it all started with one simple question.

“Pidge, can I borrow your headphones?”

Keith usually didn't borrow anyone else's stuff. He'd prefer improvising his own method and equipment than owe anyone a favor, and it wasn't because he was cold and anti-social like the girl in front of him always says. He just wasn't used to kindness, being alone for most of his life. It could use some getting used to, now that he literally lived with a bunch of people unrelated to him in any shape or form – they were full human and he was not – and he would have to make a few adjustments to his lifestyle.

And although he will never admit it – and he doesn't plan to – he really missed music. It kept him company back on Earth, when he went for days with no one to talk to or care for him. Aside from training, Keith really liked music.

But he wasn't going to ask Coran or Allura to blast his favorite bands through Altean speakers. That would blow his cover and worse, get judged for his taste. Not like his taste was bad, he just knew that someone – namely, Lance – never fails to make fun of completely normal stuff.

So, he had no choice but to ask the only person he knew wouldn’t blabber about anything unnecessary.

“What do you need my headphones for?” Pidge's emphasis on the possessive pronoun made Keith cringe a little. He almost forgot that the girl values her equipment as if they were rare treasures(they are). Keith swallowed, and the two engaged in a staring contest when Pidge looked up from the machine she was building. Keith could feel Green's eyes on him, too, and he finally figured that he was, in reality, in the Green Paladin's territory.

He didn't break the eye contact, because he didn't want to seem nervous. “Uh, I…” Oh, great. He stuttered. “I just wanted to listen to something while training…” His voice lowered and he held his head low.

When Pidge eyed him, he already knew what her answer would be.

“That's… really a good thing to know. I didn't know you enjoyed music.” Pidge commented, and Keith almost yelled at her when she smirked mischievously. “But, uh, I…” Her voice trailed off, and she started adjusting her glasses. Keith knew – she was trying to find her words and was really nervous doing so.

As much as he wanted to listen to some music – and he just found out that Coran had access to Earth music earlier during breakfast talk – he felt bad making Pidge anxious. She was never really good with words. “You don't let anyone borrow your equipment.” The sentence came out colder than he expected it would.

Alarmed, Pidge's eyes widened in panic. “W-W-Wait! Okay, so maybe you're right, I don't let people borrow or touch my stuff, but I swear it's nothing personal, like, I like you, wait no! I only like you as a friend, nothing mushy or whatever, so it would be okay for you to borrow my things, but I just really feel uncomfortable when someone borrows my stuff and I swear I really like you – as a friend! Because I like someone else, and…”

Keith's ears perked up.

“Come again?” He immediately cut her off, and he could see the terror in her eyes while she tried to adjust her glasses frantically. Knowing that she wouldn't repeat any of the things she said, he decided to cut to the chase, as usual. “ You like someone?”

“I-It's not like that!” Keith was amused now. He had never seen Pidge so flustered before. Her confident façade faded and all he could see now was a girl who was desperately trying to hide her embarrassment. “I like him as a friend, too!”

Keith raised an eyebrow. If it was a friend, he was one hundred percent sure that the person was in this ship. After all, Pidge didn't seem like she had anyone she could call a friend before. Much like him.

Before he could push any further, Pidge turned away from him, working on her project once again. “Look, I'm really busy and sorry for the, uh, headphone thing. I need to finish this today, too.” And Keith left, deciding to ignore the fact that her hands were so sweaty and the tools kept slipping from her grasp.

Of course, that didn't stop him from training. For a while, he completely forgot about the earlier incident while he was facing the gladiator, not to mention, he lost interest quickly. It was a personal matter and he didn't want to pry any further into a silly thing.

That was until he and Hunk were sitting in the common room, and the door opened.

“Hey, Hunk, got any food in the kitchen?” Keith looked up to see a certain blue idiot by the door. Nothing special. Just Lance. He would ask Hunk for food every now and then, and this was normal.

Except he came in wearing Pidge's headphones around his neck.

“Uh, I think I left some of the improvised peanut butter stuff thing on the table.” Hunk answered. “We also have the alien bread that Coran really liked. He got a whole bunch of them from the Space Mall.” The Yellow Paladin quickly followed up. Lance tilted his head, confusion written all over his face.

“I don't really like peanut butter. Did you know peanuts cause acne? Not having any of that.” Keith blinked at Lance as he talked. As the Blue Paladin rubbed his head and turned to leave, Keith opened his mouth to speak.

“Did you just take that without permission?” Keith's accusing voice caused Lance to turn around with a scowl on his face. Hunk looked back and forth between the two, puzzled.

“What?” Lance replied without delay, taken aback by the sudden random question from his rival. Keith didn't seem pleased about having to point out what exactly he was talking about, but he did nonetheless. Lance eyes narrowed when Keith raised a finger to point at him – was that his middle finger? – or not at him, but his neck.

And when Lance's hand traced the object around his neck, his scowl disappeared upon realization. “Excuse me? I asked her nicely and she told me it was okay.” He turned to leave again. “Besides, she lets me use it every night before going to bed.” And with that, Lance left, leaving Keith to wonder about what just happened.

Lance passed by the common room again soon after, holding a plate with two peanut butter(?) sandwiches as he went to enter the opposite hallway from the kitchen. Didn't he say he didn't like peanut butter? Huh.

Of course, Keith knew there was something weird going on, but he hardly gave much thought on it. The days proceeded as normal, and the battles were won flawlessly – except that one time Hunk failed to break through an enemy barrier because he thought his Lion could, and Shiro had to save him from being melted by the nuclear material of the enemy defenses. The druids were getting more creative in their weapons.

Oh, and that one time, too.

It was just one little thing, no big deal. If Allura didn't say anything, Keith wouldn't notice – he was too busy maneuvering through the glaciers covered by the thick fog in the ice planet.

“I can't seem to find Lance. Paladins, the fog is interfering with the castle's sensors!” Allura's voice was glitching through the comms and Keith could tell that the Lion's sensors were also weakening. He immediately pulled on the controls, almost hitting a huge glacier, if not only for Red's agility.

“Lance—with me…--- found--- stuck in the – requ-- ck-up now!” Pidge's voice cut through the comms and it caught Keith's attention. “What?” He heard Shiro respond. Keith made a choice to fly up and out of the atmosphere, trying to receive the message.

“I said, Lance is with me! He found the prisoners stuck in a cave, we request back-up now!” Pidge's voice was loud and clear now, and Keith stopped himself from asking something entirely different.

Hunk beat him to it.

“You didn't split up? I thought we were supposed to split up. I go close to the ground, Keith would fly across the glaciers, Shiro and Pidge were supposed to fend off the incoming Galra ships, and Lance would--"

There was an air of awkward silence in the comms. It was a very short silence, almost unnoticeable, or maybe Keith was just overthinking things.

“Never mind that now, Paladins, we've got company!” Allura shouted, and a humongous blast caught everyone's attention. Without pressing on the issue further, they formed Voltron and took on the enemies with ease.

Nobody questioned anything further nor did the two receive scolding from either Shiro or Allura. It was like an unspoken message between all of them.

The next morning(?), a pissed-off Keith stormed out of the training room to drag out a certain Paladin who was late for training. As usual. As he neared Lance's room, the door opened before he could come close, and he didn't know why, but he hurriedly hid in a corner.

“Aw, come on, Pidge! That was my favorite song!” Lance's loud voice could be heard throughout the corridor, even though he was in his room. To Keith's surprise, it was Pidge who came out of the door, and to add up to his current surprise, Pidge was actually awake this early. Everyone knew how hard she worked every night, so they don't force her to train in the morning with them.

But here she was, striding out of Lance's room with her headphones on-hand. “Yeah, sure, Lance. Tell that to Shiro or Keith, whoever comes to your room to drag you to the training room first.” She answered with a smug smirk. “Besides, I need my headphones for something today.”

“You just want an excuse to see me this early every morning.” Lance retorted, unknowingly making Pidge's face as red as Keith's jacket. “After all, who could resist my charming bedroom voi—oof!” A jab to his stomach was enough to make him shut up.

“Whatever, Lance.” Pidge rolled her eyes.

Keith tiptoed away from the scene as quietly as he could. At least he now knows why everytime he or Shiro was about to pick Lance up, he was already awake before they could even knock.

#plance #pidgance #plance month #pidgance month 2k17 #pidgancemonth2k17 #pidgance month #vld pidge #vld lance #flirtyrobot #vld #voltron #plance voltron #vld keith #katie holt #fanfic #headphones

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sl-walker · 6 years

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The Sith Infiltrator was in hyperspace when Darth Maul engaged the autopilot to give himself time to think. Reflection was so foreign to him that the impulse to look inward left him momentarily astonished—though not enough to keep him seated at the ship’s controls. Shrugging out of the acceleration chair’s harness, he rose and paced from the control console to the aft arc of passenger seats; then from the entrance of the lift to the power-cell array access panels. Though Tatooine was light-years behind him, he couldn’t shake the planet from his thoughts, and despite the Scimitar’s speed and cloaking ability, it was as if the sleek ship, too, were incapable of outracing the past.

If I had it to do over again...

In his thoughts he was dropped into the speeder bike’s open cockpit, racing across Tatooine’s desolate landscape; in the next moment, executing an impromptu though acrobatic leap that carried him to the yellow ground, his lightsaber in hand, its energy blade meeting that of the Jedi Master whose name he had since learned was Qui-Gon Jinn.

Probe droids Maul had dispatched upon landing on Tatooine had located the bearded human Jedi in the stands of the Podrace stadium and later in the settlement known as Mos Espa. One of the trio of Dark Eyes had also discovered the Queen of Naboo’s starship where it had put down in the wastes of the Xelric Draw. Intent on availing himself of every advantage, Maul had waited for Qui-Gon to set out on foot for the gleaming ship before launching his surprise attack. Qui-Gon and a human slave boy had hurried across the oven-like wastes while Maul watched from the padded comfort of the speeder’s seat. Maul’s eyes were better adapted than human eyes to the glare of Tatooine’s twin suns, his lithe body better suited than the Jedi heavyweight’s to fighting in soft sand …

And yet nothing had gone as planned.

Somehow Qui-Gon heard the sibilant whine of the speeder’s repulsorlift and had whirled aside at the last instant. With some 250 meters separating Qui-Gon and the slave boy from Queen Amidala’s vessel, Maul would have had time to whip the speeder through a turn and make a second pass. Instead, in his eagerness to face off at last with a celebrated Jedi lightsaber Master, he had leapt into action …

Qui-Gon’s shrewd readiness had almost taken Maul off his guard. But the first ferocious clash of their blades had told him that the Jedi was equally surprised. And why shouldn’t he be—about being attacked not only by a Dathomiri Zabrak who had appeared out of nowhere, but also by one trained in the dark arts and wielding a crimson-bladed lightsaber? Regardless, Qui-Gon had quieted his mind and brought his imposing might to bear against Maul’s agility. He had matched Maul’s furious strokes with a disciplined intensity all his own. In the midst of their no-quarter contest the Jedi had even managed to order the slave boy to flee for the safety of the waiting ship, where Maul had nearly forgotten all about him.

The Force favors this Jedi! Maul recalled thinking.

After all the droids, assassins, gangsters, and soldiers he had vanquished, finally a worthy opponent. Not since he had fought and been defeated by his own Master, Darth Sidious, had Maul been so committed to a challenge.

Then, just when Qui-Gon’s stamina was beginning to flag and the fight was tipping in Maul’s favor, the incomprehensible had occurred: Qui-Gon had fled. Instead of standing fast and fighting to the finish, he had bounded onto the lowered boarding ramp of the Royal Starship as it was lifting off, leaving Maul—sandblasted as much by disenchantment as raw anger—to watch the craft disappear into Tatooine’s blue sky.

Many a being had run from Maul, but never a worthy one.

When, on orders from his Master, he had single-handedly butchered the trainers and trainees at the Orsis combat academy five years earlier, not a being had fled. Not the Mandalorian Meltch nor his pair of lethal Rodians; not Trezza or his well-trained Nautolan ward, Kilindi. All had stood their ground and died with honor. Spinelessness was something that had never entered Maul’s imaginings. What, then, was he now supposed to think of the Jedi, whom he had been raised to hate since infancy?

On Coruscant, before leaving for Tatooine, Maul had found it impossible to contain his enthusiasm. At last we reveal ourselves, Master, he had said to Sidious. And in the end that long-awaited moment of revelation had led to nothing more than disappointment. Watching the departing starship, Maul had wondered: Could he succeed in tracking the Jedi and the Queen a second time? How would his failure impact the overall mission?

At the time he had tried to make excuses for himself, blaming his inability to overpower Qui-Gon on the leg wound he had sustained during his brief capture by Togorian pirates. Or the slave boy might have been to blame—a seeming nexus of Force energy, the boy had somehow abetted Qui-Gon in the fight. But Maul had known better than to make excuses to his Master, or even mention the run-in with the Togorians.

But if he had it to do over again, he wouldn’t make it a challenge.

Even if that meant depriving himself of the thrill of combat and the pleasure of seeing the pained surprise in Qui-Gon’s eyes when Maul’s blade pierced him. He would simply race in at top speed with his lightsaber already ignited and decapitate Qui-Gon Jinn where he stood. That way he might also have been able to pilot the speeder through the ship’s open hatch, kill Qui-Gon’s Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and capture the Queen …

How his Master would have praised him then! Instead Maul had been forced to weather Sidious’s obvious disenchantment in abject humiliation. Darth Sidious had dismissed the setback, almost as if attributing Maul’s failure to—what? Surely not fate, since his Master was as much as overseeing that. That left only Maul’s lack of ability.

His weakness.

Currently the two Jedi, the Queen, and her entourage of handmaidens and protectors were on Coruscant, and Maul had been ordered to Naboo to assist the loathsome Neimoidians in rooting out possible pockets of resistance while Sidious modified the plan.

Even Sidious despised having to deal with the Neimoidians. So the assignment to advise them felt like a punishment, as had happened following Maul’s massacre of the leaders of the Black Sun crime syndicate. Then Maul had been banished from Coruscant after confessing to Sidious that he had identified himself as a Sith Lord to one of the crime bosses before killing him.

In previous missions undertaken for his Master, Maul had felt allied to the dark side, but something had changed since Tatooine. Was he now in some sense engaging the Force itself, through its proxies, the Jedi? Should he have been more circumspect and lured the Jedi to him instead of initiating the attack?

Would his Master even allow him a second chance?

He wouldn’t have believed that his hatred for the Jedi could deepen, but it had—for making him appear ineffectual in the eyes of Darth Sidious and for putting him in such an untenable fix …

Enough thinking, Maul commanded himself.

The solution was that he couldn’t allow himself to fail again.

Convinced that he had put the past to rest, Maul came to a halt in the Infiltrator’s cabin. However, as if his legs had a will of their own, he was suddenly back in motion, pacing from the control console to the acceleration chairs.

If I had it to do over again...

-End Game, James Luceno

#maul #end game #I MEAN GEEZ #maybe because i'm thirty-seven #but holy shit this doesn't read as #'fully grown mature adult with mature risk-assessment skills'#it's shockingly relatable #i remember being that age #i remember how my own mind worked then #i remember thinking in patterns like that #and i am dead sure OTHER PEOPLE either recognize them #or have lived them #(or aren't far off from living them)#and i guess i just love it #(though yeah it definitely adds to the tragic factor of his existence too)

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