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purrincess-chat · 4 years

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My Chosen’s Keeper CH3 (FINAL)

Here is the last chapter of the petty kwami AU. I have basically this whole week off because of Hurricane Sally, so I decided to go ahead and post the last chapter since I finished it up. I’m so happy you all enjoy this fic, and I hope you like the conclusion!

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

After a week, Lila stopped scheming against Marinette. In fact, she’d stopped doing much of anything. Every so often she’d look over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be following her, and she flinched every time she opened her locker or her bag.

Tikki was satisfied enough with their efforts, though she worried they’d gone too far when Lila spun around on poor Nathaniel walking behind her to his seat. Her goal was to inconvenience Lila, not scare her out of her skin, and now her stomach was churning too much to enjoy her morning macaron. She popped into Adrien’s bag where Plagg was dozing in an empty Camembert carton and shook him awake.

“Plagg, do you think maybe we went too far with all of this?” She asked, but Plagg simply shrugged his shoulders and burped.

“Relax, sugar cube. That girl got what was coming to her.”

“Yeah, but she’s petrified now, and people are starting to notice,” she said with a nervous glance up at the open zipper. “I think we should stop.”

“Fine,” Plagg yawned, and Tikki prodded his side.

“I’m serious, Plagg. No more pranks.”

“Okay,” he said, and she sat back, antenna pressing low against her head.

“Good,” she said with a nod.

As the bell rang, Tikki slipped back into Marinette’s bag before her owner noticed her absence. She tried to push the whole situation from her mind, but when Alya leaned against Marinette’s neighboring locker, her nerves only worsened.

“Lila’s been acting super paranoid today. I wonder what’s bugging her,” Alya whispered, casting a glance at their classmate across the room.

“Nathaniel told me she thinks she’s being haunted,” Marinette said. Even she seemed concerned, and Tikki shrank deeper into her purse.

“I mean, a lot of crazy stuff has been happening to her, so maybe she is,” Alya said with a wince.

“I wouldn’t doubt if she’d made a spirit angry,” Marinette mumbled, and Alya leaned in closer.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I feel kinda bad for her. I saw her dozing off in class earlier. She must not be sleeping,” Alya said, biting her lip. “Hey, why don’t we all plan a sleepover? Maybe if a group of us supports her then she’ll feel safe enough to sleep.”

“Uhh, yeah, sure,” Marinette said, sounding anything but willing. “You plan it, and I will definitely not think of an excuse not to go.”

“I’ll ask her this afternoon. It’ll be fun.” Alya nudged her with her elbow before they headed to their next class.

To Tikki’s horror, not only did Lila accept the sleepover invitation, but somehow, she managed to convince them to host it at Marinette’s house. Lila had a way of backing people into corners, and Marinette didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Tikki was equally as unenthused. Just what she needed—another reason to get involved.

“Plagg, what am I gonna do?” Tikki asked that afternoon in art class. “I know she’s up to something!”

“Do you want me to leave stinky cheese in her locker again?”

“No!”

“Good because it’s a terrible waste of perfectly good cheese.”

“Plagg! I’m serious. What if Lila does something to my owner tonight?” Tikki said, tugging his arm. “Help me!”

“I thought you wanted to be done with all of this? No more pranks?” Plagg said, and Tikki averted her gaze, antenna lowering.

“I do, but she’s coming into her personal home. What if she finds her diary and learns that she’s Ladybug? Or what if she just so happens to steal her earrings? Or what if-”

“Don’t worry, sugar cube. I’ll help you tonight. Lila won’t get away with anything, okay?” Plagg said, patting her head.

“You mean it?”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Plagg asked, and Tikki’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, bad question. I promise I won’t let you down—this time.”

“Thanks, Plagg.”

Later that evening, Tikki chewed her lip as Marinette tidied up for her guests. She’d helped remove any lingering Adrien pictures despite her friends all knowing about her crush, but Marinette was just as wary of having Lila over as Tikki. As a result, she was taking a few extra precautions like hiding her diary and anything else Lila could use against her. It eased some of Tikki’s worry, but not all of it.

“Are you really going to have that girl over?” She asked as Marinette locked her important belongings in her chest.

“I couldn’t exactly say no. Lila is too good at manipulating everyone. If I had said no, she would have made it seem like I hate her,” Marinette said, leaning against her fist.

“But you do hate her.”

“Yeah, but I can’t prove why I hate her to everyone, so I don’t have a choice,” Marinette sighed. “We’ll just have to be extra careful tonight. I doubt Lila will try anything with all of the girls over.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

Thankfully Alya arrived first to help set up because Lila was the first after her. She seemed surprised and slightly annoyed to find Alya there as well, and Tikki’s blood boiled at the sight of her. She popped up to the roof, tapping her paws together as she peered out over the street. The night was calm and quiet—a direct contrast to the storm brewing inside her. Where was Plagg?

“Ya know, you really worry too much.”

She spun around to see him lounging on the chair with a cheese danish from the bakery. Relief flooded her mind, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. “Where have you been?”

“Relax, sugar cube. I was doing some important reconnaissance,” he said around a mouthful.

“You mean helping yourself to whatever your greedy stomach wanted?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You are so selfish!”

“Oh, then I suppose you already know that Lila has a lockpick in her bag?”

“She- you- oh…Well, then we should-”

“Already did. And her toothbrush just for fun,” he snickered, and Tikki lowered onto the chair beside him. “I’m a little insulted that you don’t believe in me.”

“Dinosaurs, Atlantis, the Black Plague…”

Plagg bit off a chunk of his pastry and chewed it grumpily. “We never talk about your mistakes.”

“Thank you, Plagg,” Tikki said, and he blinked, swallowing the rest of the danish whole. “For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me.” He turned his back to her and waved it away, but she could see the smile tugging on his lips. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.”

The girls were gathered in Marinette’s room when Tikki and Plagg snuck in and took position on Marinette’s bed. Marinette had strategically positioned herself on top of her locked chest, and partnered with Plagg’s disposal of Lila’s lock pick, it eased some of Tikki’s nerves. At least her secrets would be safe, but that didn’t mean Lila didn’t have other tricks up her sleeve.

After a while, they moved downstairs to watch a movie, and Mr. Dupain brought up homemade pizza. Plagg groaned beside her as the girls pulled apart stretchy strips of cheese, and Tikki restrained him from flying down and helping himself.

Halfway through the movie, Lila got up to go to the bathroom, and Tikki followed. Just as she feared, the moment the door closed, Lila set to work silently opening cabinets. Tikki had half a mind to spray her with the sink nozzle again, but after a few minutes of searching, Lila found what she was looking for—a metal nail file. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair and tucked them both into her pocket.

Back out in the main room, she announced that she was going to go upstairs and call her mom who was traveling overseas on some important ambassador thing, and she only had a short window in the evening to talk to her because of timezones or something. It didn’t matter the reason because it was a lie. Marinette’s glare followed her up the stairs with Tikki right behind it.

“Plagg?” She hissed, glancing around for that lazy black cat, but she didn’t have to guess where he was. “I told you not to touch the pizza!”

Plagg clung to the piece he was greedily stuffing in his mouth as Tikki tugged on his tail. “Oh come on! Mr. Dupain makes his own mozzarella. I couldn’t resist!”

“Lila is on the move! She took a nail file from the bathroom, and now she’s upstairs! Come on!”

Plagg caressed his slice of pizza one last time before Tikki dragged him up the stairs. Lila was already kneeling beside the chest, nail file and bobby pin at work.

“Come on, stupid chest. I know Marinette is behind all of the weird stuff happening to me lately,” she grumbled. “I just need something to blackmail her with to make it all stop. Just open!”

“Plagg, what are we gonna do?” Tikki whispered, and Plagg was already surveying the rest of the room.

“Follow my lead,” he said, darting for the nearest mannequin.

Lila nearly had the lock open when a stack of shoeboxes toppled over, and she jumped. Seeing that it was only boxes, she took a deep breath and turned back to her work.

“What?” She gasped when her makeshift lock picks were no where to be found.

“Lila…”

She startled, jumping up and spinning around, but no one was in the room. No one she could see anyway.

“Liiiila…”

“Very funny, Marinette. I know it’s you. It’s been you the whole time. I don’t know how, but you won’t beat me,” she said, but the way her eyes flicked frantically around the room betrayed her true fear.

“Leave her alone…”

The mannequin by the chaise, surged forward, and Lila’s scream filled the house. She scrambled for the trapdoor, but it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she tugged. The girls rushed up the stairs, Marinette at the front. She pushed the trapdoor open easily to find Lila curled into a ball on the floor, tears streaming down her face.

“What are you doing?” Marinette demanded, and Alya crawled up to wrap an arm around Lila’s shoulders.

“The mannequin!” Lila wailed.

“What about it?” Marinette asked.

“It-It talked and moved and-and-” She pointed across the room, but the mannequin had returned to its original place. Even the shoeboxes had righted themselves. “But…”

“Maybe we should all just go to bed,” Alya suggested, and Lila grabbed her shoulders.

“But it did move! I swear I’m not making it up,” she said, gripping her shirt so tightly that Alya swatted her hands away with a hiss.

“I think you’re just tired-”

“Or crazy,” Marinette mumbled, masking it with a cough.

“Sleep deprivation can make you see weird things,” Alya said. “Come on. Let’s get you some sleep.”

As the girls moved downstairs again, Marinette eyed her chest, but her secrets were safe. Tikki still stayed up all night to make sure Lila didn’t try anything again, but their ghost stunt seemed to have scared her off the idea.

When morning light streamed in from the windows, Tikki sat back with a yawn. Curling in next to Plagg snoring loudly on Marinette’s chaise, she slipped off into sleep with the reassurance that Marinette was safe.

***

The Monday after the sleepover, Lila entered the school on a quest for vengeance. Dark bags hung under blood-shot eyes, and her whole demeanor was slightly unhinged as everyone hung out in the courtyard on break. Tikki knew she was going to target Marinette again, so she lingered close by—waiting.

Marinette was sketching on a bench by herself while a maintenance man repainted the railing to her left. When he reached a stopping point, he scooted the ladder next to the bench and took his break, but Marinette never looked up from her drawing.

“Hey, I heard about the sleepover. What happened?” Adrien materialized at Marinette’s side, startling her out of her skin. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Marinette relaxed. “I don’t know. I knew she was up to no good, and while we were all watching a movie, she went up to my room to ‘call her mom’ then she just started screaming and freaking out,” Marinette said, shooting her a glare across the courtyard. “I don’t really know what happened, but she swears my mannequin talked to her.”

“Do you think she’s doing it all for attention?” Adrien asked, but Marinette pursed her lips.

“I don’t think so this time. She seemed really freaked out when we found her. I think she’s actually losing her mind,” Marinette said.

“You don’t think she’s really being haunted, do you?” Adrien’s green eyes clouded with worry.

“I don’t know,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Maybe she is making it all up for attention, or maybe all of her lying is finally catching up to her.”

“Let’s hope this convinces her to start telling the truth whatever it is,” he said. “I’m just glad she didn’t do anything to you. I was worried when I heard she was coming to your house for a sleepover.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed at that, and she took her eyes off Lila. Adrien was the perfect distraction, but Tikki wasn’t so easily deterred because Lila was watching them too. Their friendly smiles and close proximity drove her over the edge. When she dashed toward them, Tikki braced herself, but Lila wasn’t aiming for the bench.

Tikki glanced up at the paint can resting precariously on the top of the ladder beside them, recognizing the intent in Lila’s eyes.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, flitting up to the bucket.

Lila rocked the ladder, but against the laws of natural physics, the can twirled around and dumped on top of her. The courtyard fell silent as the can clattered to the ground, and Lila wiped green paint from her face.

“That’s it!” She screeched, pointing a finger at Marinette. “This is all your fault!”

“Lila, Marinette didn’t do anything. I was talking to her the whole time,” Adrien said, holding up cautioning hands.

“No! Everything is her fault!” Lila stomped a foot. “I don’t know how you keep doing it, but I know it’s you!”

“Lila, what are you-” Alya started, but Lila lunging at Marinette cut her off. Nino and Ivan caught her, and Adrien took a defensive stance in front of Marinette.

“How did you do it, Marinette?” She growled. “I put those test answers in your schoolbag, but they weren’t there when Mlle. Bustier checked! I planted my necklace in your locker during lunch, but somehow you put it back! How did you do it?”

Marinette and Adrien cupped hands over their mouths as the weight of those words settled among their classmates. Confusion and anger snaked its way onto every face, and more classmates joined Adrien guarding Marinette.

“Wait, you tried to frame Marinette? But why?” Nathaniel asked, and Lila shot him a glare.

“Because I hate her! She’s always getting in my way and ruining my plans. I’d have you all eating out of the palm of my hand if it wasn’t for her!” She said, shoulders heaving. She ripped away from Nino and Ivan and kicked the paint bucket with a shriek.

“Whoa, so all those times Marinette said you were lying…” Nino said, lowering his gaze.

“She was right,” Adrien spoke up, and all eyes turned to him. “Lila is a liar. Nothing she’s ever said is true. She just wanted to use all of you for attention.”

“So, you’ve never met Jagged Stone?” Rose deflated.

“And let me guess. You’re not really bffs with Ladybug,” Alya said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Of course I’m not friends with that stupid insect! I hope Hawkmoth takes her Miraculous and rids the world of her stupid face!” Lila shouted.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Damocles demanded as he and Mlle. Bustier approached.

“Karma,” Marinette said with a grunt.

Lila glanced between each face glaring back at her, the rage-induced fog clearing enough for her to see the damage she’d inflicted. Her eyes widened, and her shoulders shrank. For the first time since she’d stepped foot in their school, Lila was exposed. Powerless. Small.

“My office. Now.” Mr. Damocles barked through gritted teeth, and Lila followed behind him quietly. She had nothing left to say. No more lies to tell.

“M, are you okay?” Alya pulled her best friend in for a tight hug. “I’m so sorry I never believed you.”

“Yeah, we should have known better. You never trip out over anyone unless there’s a reason,” Nino said, ruffling her hair.

“We’re sorry, Marinette.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“It’s fine,” Marinette said, cutting everyone off. “Really. I’m not mad at you. Lila manipulated all of you. It’s not your fault she can’t tell the truth.”

“Marinette…” Alya cooed, and all of their classmates huddled around her.

When the bell rang, they all dispersed, heading to their next class, but Marinette excused herself to the bathroom. Tikki slipped back into her purse, relieved that it was finally over and that she hadn’t been caught. Or rather, she thought she hadn’t been caught until Marinette ripped open her purse and dumped her out into her waiting hand.

“I thought kwamis weren’t supposed to meddle,” she said, quirking a brow, and Tikki shrank guiltily.

“I’m sorry, Marinette! I just knew she was up to no good, and I couldn’t let her frame you,” she said, pressing her paws together.

“Putting the test answers back and moving the necklace are like you, but exploding milk cartons and mannequin ghosts?” Marinette cocked a hip. “Plagg, I know you helped too.”

A sinister chortle echoed above them as Plagg floated down beside Tikki. “I couldn’t let sugar cube have all the fun.”

“We’re really sorry,” Tikki said, lowering her head.

She braced for her punishment, but instead, Marinette lifted the two of them to her lips and planted a soft kiss on each of their heads. “Thanks, you two.”

“You mean you’re not mad?”

“Nah, Lila deserved it,” she said with a shrug.

“I’ll accept my reward in the form of one of those tasty cheese danishes your dad makes,” Plagg said, puffing his chest out, and Marinette scratched under his chin with a giggle.

“You can have all the cheese danishes you want,” she said. “It’s nice to know you two have my back.”

“Of course,” Plagg said, draping an arm over Tikki’s shoulders. “If someone wants to mess with the Bug, they’re gonna have to go through us.”

“We’ll always make sure you’re safe,” Tikki added, and Marinette held out a pink with a smile.

“Bien Joué!”

#miraculous ladybug #tikki #plagg #marinette dupain-cheng #lila salt #petty kwami au #my writing #uninteresting tidbit #chapter 1 was 1k chapter 2 was 2k and now chapter 3 is 3k #this was unintentional but i find it amusing #anyway #enjoy #hiatus cat

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eastofthemoon · 3 years

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A Paladin in the Fire Nation

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Rating: PG

Series: Voltron Legendary Defender/Avatar the Last Airbender

Summary: After the fight with Zarkon, Shiro accidentally gets tossed into another reality where humans have the ability to bend the elements. His best shot at returning home is with someone called the Avatar, while he waits he might as well take on the job of being the Firelord’s bodyguard.

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The next few hours were a chaotic dance of panic and fussing. It didn’t take long to summon the guards, and Iroh wasn’t far behind them, fretting over both Zuko and Shiro while the intruders were taken into custody. Iroh only seemed to calm down once he learned Zuko was unharmed and that Shiro only had a minor injury.

After that, Shiro was taken to see the royal physician who examined Shiro’s arm, before releasing him to rejoin the group back in the royal quarters. Breakfast had been served, but neither Sokka, Toph, Zuko or Iroh were eating as Shiro entered.

“How’s the arm?” Sokka asked.

“Sore, but at least they didn’t have to cut it off,” Shiro replied as he sat next to him.

Sokka and Zuko raised eyebrows, while Toph snickered.

“...just trying to lighten the mood,” Shiro said.

“Weird way to do it,” Zuko commented.

“Well, I could see the humour in it,” Toph commented.

“Amusing comments aside,” Iroh said as he reached for his cup, “we are glad you are alright.”

“Did you learn anything from the attackers?” Shiro asked.

“They refuse to talk,” Zuko grumbled as he crossed his arms. “Unfortunately, I have a feeling we know who they are.”

“But those other guys were always going after Ozai, right?” Sokka replied. “This is the first time we've seen them go directly after you.”

Shiro frowned. “Others?”

Sokka shut his mouth as Zuko tossed him a glare, but then sighed.

“Fine, you might as well know too,” Zuko replied as he rubbed his neck. “I owe you that much. Those men were-”

“Out of my way,” a young female voice commanded.

“Lady Katara, if you just wait-”

The group turned as a young woman wearing blue clothing appeared in the doorway.

“Katara?!” Sokka cried. “When did you get here?”

“Yeah, we figured you weren’t arriving until later,” Toph commented as she reached for her rice.

“I managed to hitch a ride with one of the farmers, but never mind that,” she said as she looked over the Zuko.

“The guards just told me you were attacked.” She grabbed Zuko’s arm and lifted a sleeve. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Zuko sighed as he took his arm back. “I’m fine,” he replied and pointed to Shiro, “but you should be asking him that.”

The woman looked and blinked as if she just noticed Shiro for the first time.

“Um..hi,” Shiro said as he waved.

“Hi,” the woman replied and looked at Sokka. “Who is this?”

Sokka cleared his throat as he stood, walked behind Shiro and patted his shoulder as he gestured dramatically. “Shiro, meet my sister Katara. Katara, meet Shiro, our local spaceman.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “That really doesn’t clear things up.”

“It’s a long story,” Shiro replied as Sokka returned to his seat.

Katara frowned thoughtfully as she took the seat next to Shiro. “Well, you can explain who you are while I heal you. Where are you hurt?”

“It’s just a cut on my arm,” Shiro said, pulling up his sleeve to reveal the bandages. “I’ve honestly had worse.”

Katara didn’t look convinced. “Can you unwrap it?” She patted the container hanging off her hip. “Waterbending can heal something like this without any trouble.”

Shiro blinked. “Waterbending?”

“Katara’s a waterbender, and just let her do it,” Toph commented. “It’s easier than arguing with her, Sparky's attempts aside.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Katara swore as she held up her hands. “It will feel cold and a bit odd, but there’s no pain I swear.”

“Um..alright,” Shiro said, uncertainty in his voice as he held out his arm.

Katara gently removed the bandage and frowned at Shiro’s other scars.

“I’m assuming these are old,” she commented as she pointed.

“Yes,” Shiro replied and didn’t wish to explain further.

“Sorry I can’t do anything about them,” she replied as she set the bandages aside and examined the wound. “I should be able to fix this though.”

Shiro watched as Katara waved a hand, water flowing out of her container and hovering in midair to match her movements. Man, Pidge would love to see this, Shiro thought.

“Now, hold still,” Katara instructed as she moved the water to cover the wound.

Shiro flinched in response, and was surprised to see Katara had been correct. It was cold, and felt very weird, but his wound was aching much less now. In fact, it was hurting less with each passing second.

While she worked, the group filled her in on Shiro’s predicament.

“Another universe?” Katara said as she finished, waving the water back into her container. “That’s rather hard to believe.”

Shiro couldn’t reply. He was too busy examining his arm. It didn’t hurt any more and the cut was completely healed.

“What was in that water?” he asked.

Katara raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, it’s just regular water. I just used it as a catalyst to redirect the energies of your body into the wound.”

“Bending allows you to do that?”

Katara nodded.

“That’s incredible,” Shiro muttered.

Katara frowned and crossed her arms. “While it's nice to be appreciated, I’m starting to believe it.” She glanced at Zuko. “Putting that aside for the moment, what about those attackers?”

“As we were about to tell Shiro, intruders have been trying to get to Ozai,” Toph said as she leaned over the table. “But last night was the first time they went directly after Zuko.”

Shiro narrowed his eyes and thought back how Iroh mentioned having to deal with intruders. “Ozai is Zuko’s father.”

Zuko sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why were they going after Ozai in the first place?” Katara asked. “Were they trying to free him?”

“We don’t know and so far the men we captured aren’t talking,” Zuko replied as he sipped his tea. “Hopefully their attitude will change when I-”

A knock at the door interrupted Zuko. Setting down his cup, he rose and faced the door. "Enter."

A guard promptly came in and gave a quick bow. “My Lord, I regret having to bring you this news,” the guard started and swallowed hard, “but the intruders escaped.”

“WHAT?!” Everyone in the room cried, the guard flinching at the volume.

“How did this happen?” Zuko asked.

“As far as we can tell, someone knocked out the guards on duty and released the intruders,” the guard reported.

“Are you searching the grounds?” Iroh asked as he stood next to Zuko.

“Yes,” the guard replied, lowering his gaze, “but we have a feeling it’s likely too late.”

“Keep searching for now, and come to me immediately as soon as you find anything,” Zuko replied.

“Yes, my Lord,” the guard replied as he took another bow and exited the room.

Toph clicked her tongue. “Well, that’s not good.”

“How could they have gotten out?” Shiro asked.

“Not by themselves,” Zuko grumbled as he sat and rubbed his face. “The guards had searched them for any weapons or lockpicks.”

Sokka stroked his chin in thought.

“It means either there was another intruder we missed that freed them,” Sokka started with a grimace, “or worse-”

“Someone inside the palace was in on it,” Shiro finished.

Sokka sighed as he leaned back. “Yup, exactly. Schemers in the Fire Palace, who could have guessed.”

“And I don’t suppose we have an idea on who it could have been?” Katara asked.

“Not currently,” Zuko replied as he sat back down with clenched fists. “With all the diplomats and their staff staying here it could be anyone.”

Iroh took a deep breath. “If that is true,” he said and looked at Zuko with hard eyes, “then we have no choice.”

Zuko blinked, frowned and then groaned as he massaged his forehead. “No, Uncle, not this again.”

“Zuko, this is for your own good-”

“I don’t need a personal bodyguard!”

“Uh..what’s this now?” Sokka asked as he raised a hand.

Zuko gave a deep sigh. “Uncle has been pestering me to get a personal bodyguard for the past several months.”

“Like the patient racoon-turtle, I have allowed events to pass by undisturbed - but that was when we believed they were only targeting Ozai. After last night, however, I can wait no longer. I must insist that you have protection until these perpetrators have been dealt with,” Iroh replied sternly.

Katara chewed her bottom lip. “I’m going to have to agree with Iroh. We need to consider your safety.”

Shiro couldn't help but nod as well. Zuko had been lucky he had been around to help him. He might not be so lucky next time.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Zuko growled as he crossed his arms. “Besides, there aren't any good choices.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked.

"Traditionally, I would select someone from a noble family," Zuko replied. "But given that we suspect the assassins are in league with someone in the palace, it's possible that any of the noble families could already be working with them."

Katara paused, scowled, and folded her arms. “That is a fair point.”

“I could be your bodyguard,” Toph said with a smirk.

Zuko scoffed as he shook his head. “Thank you, but while I would survive I doubt my palace would.”

Sokka scratched his chin. “If Suki was here I would nominate her, but as far as I know she’s still with Aang.”

“Who’s Suki?” Shiro asked.

Sokka gave a smug grin. “She’s just a fully trained Kyoshi warrior who can kick anyone’s butt.”

“And Sokka’s girlfriend, for some reason,” Katara added, “but she would be a good choice if she was here.”

“But she isn’t,” Zuko said as he reached for his cup of tea. “And outside this table, there’s no one else in the palace I could trust.”

Sokka placed his hands behind his head as slowly his gaze shifted towards Shiro. Suddenly, he blinked, leaned forward and pointed.

“Wait a second! Shiro could be Zuko’s bodyguard!”

Shiro blinked at the seeming non sequitur, but was relieved to see the others just as confused.

“What?” Zuko asked.

“It’s perfect,” Sokka continued with a manic grin, jumping up for emphasis. “He literally just got here so we know he doesn’t have connections to anyone and he handled those assassins easily -”

“It was a combined effort!” Zuko shouted.

“You, ah, didn’t notice the arrow,” Shiro added dryly.

Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Point is,” Sokka cut in as he marched around Shiro and placed his hands on his shoulders. “He would be a perfect bodyguard for Zuko. Helpful, quiet, a good fighter, has a weird space-metal arm...”

Zuko growled. “I don’t need a bodyguard!”

“The attack last night suggests otherwise,” Iroh said sternly. “You need to be protected, Zuko.” He glanced at Shiro. “And I also believe Sokka's suggestion to have merit.”

Zuko’s mouth dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Before you answer that,” Katara cut in and crossed her arms, “maybe ask if Shiro actually WANTS to be Zuko’s bodyguard?”

Iroh frowned, but gave a nod.

“My apologies, of course,” Iroh said with a nod and looked back at Shiro. “Would you accept being Zuko’s bodyguard? I can promise you will be well paid for it.”

Shiro was quiet for a moment, and then gave a shrug. “Alright, why not.”

“Are you sure? Zuko has a knack for getting into trouble.” Katara asked.

“I’m stuck here and have nothing else to do until I’m able to talk to Aang,” Shiro replied and narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I’m not the kind of person that can stand by and do nothing while someone is in danger.”

Iroh smiled. “Thank you, Shiro. We very much appreciate it.”

“What about my opinion here?” Zuko asked with a growl.

“Both Katara and Iroh have joined forces on this, buddy,” Sokka said with a shrug. “You fought it, but I think you've lost this one.”

Zuko glared, but finally sighed in defeat. “Fine. I still think you're all overreacting, but you can pay Shiro to stand around.”

“With that said,” Shiro asked, “you just said that traditionally a bodyguard is selected from a noble family. I'm not exactly nobility on this world - is that going to cause any issue?”

“Oh, it's sure to offend the majority of the upper class,” Zuko replied as he raised his head, “but that’s nothing new. This'll just go on their list of their issues with me.”

Shiro felt some concern over that, but felt it best to keep it to himself for now. He could ask the others about impending coups later.

“In any case, while Shiro is guarding Zuko the rest of us should see if we can find any leads,” Toph said as she reached for her cup of tea. "It's been way too long since I got to shake anyone down."

“Well, I can’t do any investigation on an empty stomach,” Sokka declared as he reached for his bowl. “First breakfast then I break out my hat and pipe.”

Katara sighed. “I thought we got rid of those.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

Katara shook her head. “No, no you don’t.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first few days after the attack were relatively quiet. This honestly didn’t surprise Shiro; whoever had sent the assassins would have to assume that the Fire Lord's entourage would be on high alert. It wouldn’t make any sense to make another attempt immediately.

Few among the palace staff were questioning Shiro’s appointment as Zuko’s new bodyguard. The story was that Shiro had come highly recommended by a close friend and was a fully trained fighter. There had been a few cautious and curious glances as he made his rounds through the palace, but any ill opinions were kept quiet.

The nobles he had encountered were a different matter. None of them protested aloud when Zuko introduced Shiro to them, but Shiro could hear whispers in the background during the meetings where he escorted Zuko, and could feel icy glares as he left the room.

If Zuko had even noticed the nobles' actions, he had ignored them.

“A lot of them are already disgruntled with the changes I made to the court since I took over,” Zuko explained when Shiro asked him about it. “If they're going to hate me for not being my father, there's no point in trying to change their minds.”

The subject still made Shiro uneasy, and he was tempted to wear his paladin armor to be better prepared for the next knives in the dark. Unfortunately, he was overruled by both Sokka and Zuko.

“Look, buddy, if we’re going to keep the whole ‘I’m from another universe’ thing a secret, kinda easier to do that if you’re not wearing stuff that just screams ‘Look at me! I’m not from this planet’.”

Shiro couldn’t argue against that.

In the meantime,Sokka, Toph and Katara had yet to turn up any useful leads in their investigation. They had questioned all the servants and guards, and had scoured the grounds for any evidence a master earthbender, waterbender, and 'cluebender' might uncover, but so far they hadn't found anything. Whoever the assassins were they had made certain to not leave a trace of themselves behind.

That, or someone in the palace was extremely good at covering for them. Given the prison escape, more conspirators seemed likely.

Shiro couldn’t help but ponder this as he, Sokka, Katara and Toph went over the list as they waited for Zuko to finish getting dressed.

“All of the servants Toph and I spoke to yesterday couldn’t think of anything out of place,” Katara said with a sigh.

“Are you certain they were all telling the truth,” Shiro asked.

“They seemed to be, judging by their heart rates,” Toph said.

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Their heart rates?”

Toph lifted her foot and pointed to it. “I get around by using my earth bending to sense vibrations, and I'm awesome enough to feel people's heartbeats. If they’re lying, their heart rate tends to go up.”

Shiro frowned as he put it together. “So, you’re a walking lie detector.”

Sokka glanced up from his paper. “ Lie detector?”

“It’s a kind of machine we have that works on the same principle,” Shiro explained as he leaned over the table. “Although, it’s not perfectly accurate.”

“It’s also the same for Toph,” Katara admitted, “but I know that the servants all really like Zuko. I can’t see any of them wanting to hurt him.”

“Really?” Shiro replied, slightly surprised. “I didn’t think he was that sociable.”

“It’s less about him being sociable and more that he isn’t going to threaten to burn them for accidentally spilling water on the floor,” Sokka commented dryly. “You'd think that wouldn't be a high bar to clear, but apparently Zuko was a big relief after the last three Fire Lords - even if banishment was better than what Ozai was doing."

Shiro frowned. “You know the more I hear about this Ozai, the less I like him.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Toph grumbled.

“We still need to talk to some of the military officers,” Sokka replied as he drummed his fingers on the table. “That might get us somewhere since Zuko still hasn’t been able to replace all of the higher ranks yet.”

Shiro froze at the mention of the military. “What about Admiral Jee?”

Katara glanced up and quickly shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t be connected.”

“You’re certain?” Shiro asked.

“He's one of the few qualified replacements. Zuko selected him specifically because he knows he can trust him,” Sokka explained. “He was the officer in charge of his boat after he got banished.”

“Banished?” Shiro asked.

Sokka, Katara and Toph went quiet as they glanced at each other.

“Right, you wouldn’t know about that,” Toph commented.

I get the feeling there is a LOT I don’t know, Shiro thought.

Sokka straightened his posture. “Basically, Zuko got kicked out of the Fire Nation for a few years by Ozai and was sent on the quest to find the Avatar.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “He had to find Aang?”

“Yeah, but no one expected him to actually do it, because nobody had seen the Avatar in a century.”

Shiro blinked. “Wait, how old is Aang?”

“16,” Katara replied.

“Then how does a sixteen-year-old go missing for longer than he'd been alive??”

“He got frozen in an iceberg for a hundred years,” Toph added. "Slept through all the fun stuff."

“Oh,” Shiro said softly and slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow. “Wait, that makes sense? There are times I have a hard time grasping it.”

Shiro shrugged. “My friends Allura and Coran got put to sleep for ten thousand years. This is pretty much business as usual.”

Sokka stared blankly before slowly raising a finger. “I have a few questions-”

“Save them for later,” Zuko said as he entered the room. “I have a meeting to get to and I can’t afford to be late.”

“I’m not sure if I can,” Sokka admitted.

Shiro gave a smirk as he patted Sokka's shoulder. “It’s not that complicated. They just have machines that can freeze them.”

“That raises more questions - I've been frozen in ice when I made Katara mad, how -,” Sokka cried, but Shiro just waved farewell as he followed Zuko.

They walked in silence until they reached the door to the meeting chambers.

“I need to explain something to you,” Zuko said as he turned. “The diplomats from the other nations are in this meeting.”

“Oh,” Shiro said as he narrowed his eyes.

“It’s an update on how the reparations from the war are going,” Zuko explained.

“Okay, good to know,” Shiro said slowly. “But that seems straightforward enough. What else is going on?”

“I believe Zuko is concerned about the many Fire Nation generals who are also in this meeting,” Iroh explained as he approached. “And their commentary on these issues can grow quite heated,” he cleared his throat a moment before smiling. “No pun intended of course.”

Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “I’m assuming not all the generals agree with how you’ve been making amends for their conquests.”

“I have managed to replace a few of them,” Zuko asserted before sighing, “but the ones that remain from my father's reign hate the idea even more than everything else I do.” He looked at Shiro. “I’m telling you this because they won't hesitate to take advantage of an outsider to our culture.”

Shiro frowned. “So, you’re saying I need to be careful.”

“What you need to do is just sit quietly while we talk,” Zuko explained. “The important facts are that anyone in red is part of the Fire Nation, the man and woman in green are the latest diplomats from the Earth Kingdom, and the man in blue is Aput, an emissary from the Northern Water Tribe.”

“The Water Tribe,” Shiro asked. “So, Sokka and Katara’s home.”

“No, they are from the Southern Water Tribe, who I'd honestly rather be dealing with today. Sokka or Katara can explain that whole history later." Zuko grumbled under his breath. "Spirits willing, this meeting won't take too long - but don't hold your breath, and just...try not to draw attention to yourself if you don't have to."

“Understood,” Shiro replied as Zuko turned to open the door and enter the meeting.

--------------------------------------------------

The meeting, in spite of Zuko's pleas to the spirits, went as expected. Far longer than planned, participants shouting over each other, and most of the words being ignored by those who didn't want to hear them.

“In spite of your promises to help rebuild Water Tribe ships, we have yet to receive so much as a stick of the lumber you claim to have sent over two months ago,” Aput stated.

General Ikai sighed. “And as we said at the time, that shipment of wood was sent to where it was needed more - the Southern Water Tribe, not the Northern.”

“So once again we are being forgotten.”

“No one is forgetting you,” Yezow one of the Earth Kingdom diplomats chided.

“In spite of your efforts to be forgotten during the war,” replied Zae, the other Earth Kingdom diplomat as she gave a huff. “We should turn our attention to places that actually suffered over the past hundred years, such as the issues with the Omashu restoration project.”

“King Bumi's most recent letters gave us the impression that the project was completed,” Zuko replied as he resisted the urge to massage his forehead. Or set something on fire.

“That is King Bumi’s opinion,” Zae replied sharply. “However, the merchants and nobles have a very different opinion on how much of Omashu warrants repair.”

“Oh really,” replied one of the Fire Nation nobles with a snort. “And do these repairs, by chance, include having their homes expanded on the Fire Nation’s coin?”

Zae glared. “Considering it was the Fire Nation that took over Omashu and forced the need to reconstruct any buildings in the first place, I don’t think you have any right to complain.”

Iroh coughed into his hand. "As Omashu is self-governed, I would suggest that we table discussion of its restoration until we petition King Bumi for a new envoy. Perhaps this time, he might even not send a howling squirrel-monkey! While we wait, however, might we move on to another topic?"

Yes, please, Zuko thought as he stole a glance back at Shiro.

Just as he had for the last few meetings, Shiro was keeping perfectly quiet and still. If he was feeling bored, none of that emotion showed in his face. Zuko had to admit it was somewhat impressive. It made Zuko wonder what Shiro had done to achieve such a skill.

“Yes, I concur,” Yezow said as he cleared his throat, which to Zuko wasn’t a good sign. “There is a matter I would like to introduce at this time.”

“And what is that?” Zuko asked.

The man’s face turned grim. “The nations of the world are concerned about your predecessor, the former Fire Lord Ozai, and wish to insist that he be fully punished for his part in the war.”

Zuko’s body tensed. He would rather go back to arguing about Omashu. Or arguing with one of Omashu's 'envoys'. “We have already discussed this with your predecessor, Ambassador Yezow.”

“Discussed, but were unable to reach a final agreement,” Aput added.

“He has been sentenced to remain in a prison cell for the rest of his life,” Iroh added. “And what he considered his greatest strength, his fire bending, has been taken away by the Avatar. This was pronounced by the Avatar himself as a just punishment.”

Zae narrowed her eyes. “Is it, though? Many of the Earth Kingdom’s sons and daughters have been lost to this war and shall never return home. Farmsteads and villages have been burned to the ground on his orders - but Ozai has a secure roof over his head and receives daily meals.”

“You make it sound like he’s living a life of luxury,” Zuko retorted. "The roof is there to keep him from climbing out, not for his comfort."

Yezow coughed. “I believe Zae is concerned that Ozai’s cell might not be a true prison given the rumors as of late.”

Zuko closed his eyes, trying not to let out a sigh as he asked the obvious question. “Which rumours?”

“The matter of Princess Azula,” Aput said coldly. “She was loyal to your father, and was credited with single-handedly conquering Ba Sing Se." He paused a moment to clear his throat. "Despite this...record, I have heard it said that she was relocated to a private estate with her own servant. That hardly sounds like a punishment to me - do you, in fact, approve of your sister's actions during the war?”

Zuko clenched his hands into fists, taking a slow deep breath and focusing his strength on not leaving scorch marks on the table. This was technically an international summit; setting things on fire and shouting a lot was not the method of diplomacy he wished to resume using. Zuko had worked to keep the full story of Azula’s breakdown quiet and he was not going to waste that effort. Even though he could feel Iroh's gaze on him, he focused his iciest glare on the diplomats.

“At the end of the war my sister was not well and required special treatment, and that is all I will say regarding the matter,” Zuko said sternly. “However, this leniency was due to a number of mitigating circumstances beyond the scope of this discussion. I can promise you that our father has not received the same consideration, and is now facing the consequences of his crimes.”

“Can we truly take your word, my lord?”

Zuko paused and slowly turned to face the speaker of the comment. This interruption had not been any of the diplomats, but rather one of the Fire Nations' own generals - one of the older, well-decorated ones..

“What do you mean, General Bujing?” Zuko said with his voice full of venom.

The old general barely looked at Zuko as he ran a hand through his beard.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” he said with a sly smile, “but can we fully trust your word given your own judgment as of late?”

Zuko narrowed his eyes. “You would bring my judgement into this?”

Bujing had been one of the most vocal protests against the changes Zuko had made since he took the throne. However, he had been canny enough to speak up only around other Fire Nation generals. This was the first time he had spoken on these matters in front of foreign diplomats.

Bujing gave a smirk and gestured behind Zuko. “Your judgment is made clear by your current choice of bodyguard. You went against our tradition of hiring someone of the court and instead chose this peasant..what’s his name? Riro? To fill a high position on the court.”

“It’s Shiro,” Zuko said as he resisted the urge to turn and look at Shiro's expression. Hopefully the otherworlder was able to keep calm. “And what of it? This is hardly the first tradition I have broken since my coronation.”

“Perhaps not,” Bujing sneered. “But from what I hear this man is not even a bender. How could you expect such a commoner to defend anyone when he can’t even bend? I could strike him down with a flick of my wrist.”

The generals muttered amongst themselves. Aput looked uncertain as Yezow stroked his beard in thought and Zae’s frown tightened.

Zuko clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as he readied his words, but someone beat him to it.

“Could you, now? Do you want to prove it?”

Zuko shut his mouth as he turned his head to Shiro. He hoped he had just misheard, but Shiro’s determined eyes showed that was far from the truth.

Bujing locked his gaze upon Shiro, seemingly surprised he had even responded. “What did you just say?”

“Do you want to prove it?” Shiro stated as clearly as a bell. “You seem confident that you could simply 'strike me down'. Why not prove it here and now?”

Zuko swallowed hard as he looked back to Bujing.

The old general narrowed his eyes. “This meeting is hardly the place for a proper fight,” he sneered, “unless of course you mean to challenge me to an Agni Kai?”

Zuko’s eyes widened in panic. Oh no! No! No! He can’t be stupid enough to take the bait!

Shiro frowned thoughtfully. “I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with all aspects of Fire Nation culture. Would you mind explaining what that is?”

Bujing looked amused. “It is an honorable tradition and is a duel-”

“Between fire benders,” Zuko sharply cut in and raised his voice, “which Shiro, as you've said, is not. This suggestion is pointless.”

“Is it,” Bujing replied, “or does it only further my point that a non-bender bodyguard is useless?” He smirked as he stroked his beard. “Besides, I believe that history shows that there has been precedent for an Agni Kai between a bender and a non-bender.”

“There is,” Iroh said slowly, “but traditionally the non-bender would invoke their right to a substitute.” He shot a glare at Bujing. “A right that has been invoked by benders, including the challenger on occasion.”

Bujing's smirk did not fade.

“This is true, but I will not be needing such a thing this time,”’ Bujing said as he raised a hand. “And as a student of history, you would of course recall duels between a fire bender and a non-bender - given the Fire Lord's approval, of course.” He grinned at Zuko. “If your new bodyguard is as capable as you claim, my lord, it would only be reasonable to approve of him showing his skills.”

The other generals and diplomats muttered amongst themselves.

Zuko fumed. It would be Bujing who pulled this. The man still resented him for returning his 'conquests' to the Earth Kingdom, and was eager to claim any chance to humiliate him. The only reason he hadn't had a forced 'retirement' was his popularity among Fire Nation nobility - specifically those most loyal to his father. The man had cultivated a reputation, and taking direct action would spark dangerous degrees of outrage.

If he refused to approve the duel it would make Zuko's decision look weak, but if he accepted the challenge then Shiro would be put in danger. Zuko glanced at Iroh for aid, but he could tell his uncle looked as trapped as he did.

However, Shiro seemed to have decided for them as he rose and stepped towards the general.

“I need no substitute,” Shiro said, “I will gladly take you on myself.”

Shiro, I am going to strangle you later, Zuko cried out in his head.

Bujing laughed. “Well then, all that is needed is our lord’s permission.”

Zuko sighed. There really was no escaping this, was there?

“Fine,” Zuko said, shooting Shiro a glare before staring ahead. “I approve of this irregular Agni Kai.”

“Then there is no time to waste,” Bujing declared as he rose to his feet. “We shall fight at noon, at the sun's peak.” He grinned. “If you need assistance finding the arena, I believe Pr- Fire Lord Zuko knows the way.”

Zuko's nostrils flared as he clenched his fists tighter.

Iroh quickly stood. “I believe that is enough of diplomacy for today - one duel declared is far from a record, but we need not emulate the pronged goat-beetle today,” he said and gave a quick bow to the other emissaries.

Zuko wasted no time doing the same and only barely remembered not to literally drag Shiro out of the room.

Once they were safely away from the group, Zuko whipped around.

“What did I say about keeping quiet?!” he snapped.

Shiro held up his hands. “I know, but it was clear that he was trying to pick a fight.”

“Bujing tries to pick a fight over what kind of tea I drink,” Zuko snapped. “You have no idea what you just agreed to!”

“I have to fight a fire bender and I’m at a severe disadvantage since I can’t bend,” Shiro replied. “That much is obvious. But denying his challenge was just going to lead to more problems - you would be back to trying to pick a bodyguard from the nobles you can't trust.”

“That is my problem to worry about not-”

“Enough,” Iroh shouted as he got in between them. “The decision made in haste is made all the same, and your quarrel does little but waste the morning.” He lowered his arms and tucked them into his sleeves. “Whether this was the right action is for later. Right now, we have only an hour or two to introduce Shiro to enough basics of fire bending to grant him a chance.”

Zuko scowled and sighed. “Alright, Uncle. Go find the others and tell them what happened. I’ll take Shiro and see how much we can cram into an hour.”

Iroh nodded as he quickly walked down the hall.

Zuko turned to Shiro. “Let’s go and hope we have some luck on our side. At least you're probably not going to be as distractible as an airbender.”

“For what it’s worth,” Shiro said as he rubbed his metal arm, “I’ve been in more dangerous fights than facing a fire bender.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Zuko said.

Shiro gave a bitter smile. “I hope it stays that way.”

The way Shiro had phrased that sent uneasy chills down Zuko's spine.

#vldgen #atla #vld #takashi shirogane #a paladin in the fire nation #my wriitng

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valkyrisffvii · 3 years

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60 Questions about Mithra

Some background information about Mithra Valkyris

1: What’s your OCs favorite color?

Mithra’s favorite color is most definitely red, specifically dark crimson, the same color as blood. Her 2nd Class SOLDIER uniform sports this color, as do several other outfits that she wears.

2: Where does your OC work?

Mithra used to plunder people’s homes for clients as a part of a thieving ring. She was rewarded for her skills with food, clothing, and a place to stay. Unfortunately, the job ran out of use for her when she reached her late teens. In order to avoid having to sell her body to ensure a stable life, Mithra ran away from that particular part of Midgar and joined SOLDIER, the elite military group. They were reluctant to accept her at first due to the fact that she was female, but her skills in stealth ended up proving quite valuable to Shinra.

3: What’s your OCs favorite food?

Mithra is fond of anything that’s spicy. She can tolerate spicy food better than most of her friends. Mithra also has a very strong sweet tooth, preferring her coffee sweet and having a fondness for anything with chocolate.

4: Does your OC prefer paper or plastic?

Gil does not come in card form nor paper form, so Mithra carries her gil in a pouch that attaches to her belt, much like others who don’t carry bags.

5: How old is your OC?

Mithra is around 14 when she first finds herself in lower Midgar. She joins SOLDIER at the age of 17 and is promoted to 2nd class at age 19. She is 22 when she gets into her first relationship with Sephiroth.

6: Does your OC have any supernatural powers?

Like other members of SOLDIER, Mithra receives Mako injections which give her enhanced speed, jump height, strength, and other powers. She learns several ice and electric spells to use in combat as a contrast to Genesis’ skills with fire.

7: Is your OC in a relationship?

Before she joins SOLDIER, Mithra does try to get the attention of several girls her age, with no luck. She believes that she only holds feelings for females until she meets and falls in love with Sephiroth, whom she is afraid to confess her feelings to. Luckily, a slip of Zack’s tongue allows the two of them to confess their feelings to each other. They maintain a loving relationship for many years, and their commitment to each other pushes them to fight against those who threaten them.

8: What are some of your OCs strengths?

Having faced great adversity at a young age, Mithra is no stranger to conflict, and she has no problem with standing up for herself. She’s also very crafty with her words and actions, and she can manipulate anyone into giving in to her wishes, though she’d rather not do this unless she’s dealing with an enemy. Mithra’s stealth skills have made her a valuable asset to SOLDIER; she is a skilled lockpicker and pickpocket, and she can move silently and hide easily due to her short stature and small frame. She’s a patient teacher as well, taking some time out of her days to help infantryman Cloud train so that he can become a SOLDIER.

9: What are some of your OCs weaknesses?

Having little to no memory of her childhood, Mithra struggles with understanding her identity. During her teenage years, she feels that she’s different from other girls because she does not hold romantic feelings towards men. Luckily, she comes to accept herself fully once she finds her place as a member of SOLDIER, and she comes out as bisexual. Mithra is also somewhat of a hothead, albeit less than that of someone like Genesis. She can get overwhelmed easily and this can result in impulsive decisions, some of which don’t end that well.

10: What is your OCs favorite outfit?

Once she hits the age of 18 and comes out, Mithra feels much more confident in her clothing choices. Like many other young women in Midgar, she likes wearing crop tops, even going so far as to alter her SOLDIER uniforms to fit her style. She hates anything that is tight around the neck, so she removed the turtleneck on the uniform as well. When she’s not in uniform, Mithra normally wears cropped tanks, as she hates sleeves. She also prefers going barefoot over constantly wearing boots.

11: What animal does your OC relate to?

Mithra probably relates most to a fox. She’s sneaky, both in physical prowess and her speech. She’s also quite solitary before she befriends the other SOLDIERS.

12: Is your OC sexually active?

Mithra has little to no interest in a sexual relationship at first due to some bad experiences with older men on the streets. Even after she gets into a relationship, sex is not high on her list of desires, as she prefers to go on adventures with her S/O rather than have intimate moments. That being said, she does make perverted jokes occasionally…

13: What is your OCs earliest memory?

Mithra’s earliest memory is waking up on the ground in an alleyway in Midgar. She can recall faint snapshots of her supposed childhood, but there’s nothing solid enough for her to remember vividly. She did remember her age and birthday, as well as how to fight.

14: Does your OC have a cell phone? If so, what kind?

Mithra has a touch screen smartphone like everyone else who works for Shinra. She is in several group chats including one for the six main SOLDIER members as well as SOLDIER Director Lazard, one with herself, Zack, and Cloud Strife, and one with her female friends Tifa Lockhart and Aerith Gainsborough. She often sends her friends “memes”.

15.What makes your OC angry?

Anyone who says that women are weak immediately get disapproval from Mithra, as does anyone who hates members of the LGBTQ+ community. She is also angered by those who threaten or make fun of her friends, especially anyone who antagonizes Sephiroth. The thing that she absolutely cannot stand, however, is being told to “know her place”.

16: When is your OCs favorite time of year?

Mithra loves the summer because she and the others usually get longer vacations. They often go to Costa Del Sol or another exotic location and just enjoy their time together. She is also fond of the winter cold and snow that sometimes falls in Midgar, and she can spend hours sitting at the window watching the snowflakes fall.

17: How long can your OC hold their breath?

Mithra’s SOLDIER abilities include the ability to hold her breath longer than the average person. However, she does have her limits, as seen when she dives into a reservoir lake to search for a piece of materia and gets attacked by mutated Shinra creations, which results in Sephiroth having to save her.

18: What kind of underwear does your OC wear?

Cotton. She thinks lace and silk are stupid, not to mention the mess they’d become during one’s menstrual cycle.

19: Does your OC prefer plaid or polka dots?

Mithra isn’t particularly fond of either.

20: What’s your OCs favorite kind of pizza?

Either Margherita or barbecue chicken. She will judge anyone who thinks pineapple on pizza is good.

21: Who is your OCs best friend?

When she first joined SOLDIER, Mithra felt out of place because she was the only woman. However, Zack Fair, who was on the brink of making 2nd Class at the time, was quick to introduce himself to her and make her feel welcome. She and Zack quickly became close friends, both of them having a sense of humor and outgoing personalities. Through Zack, Mithra met and befriended the elite 1st Class members Genesis Rhapsodos, Angeal Hewley, and Sephiroth. Mithra became close friends with Cloud Strife after she helped him make SOLDIER. Mithra also became close friends with Aerith after helping Zack get closer to her, and Cloud introduced her to his childhood friend Tifa.

22: Has your OC ever killed someone?

Before joining SOLDIER, Mithra had actually never killed anyone. She had to knock a few people out using her rock sling in order to escape a few fights, but she never murdered anyone in cold blood. After she became a SOLDIER, she’d do regular jobs that sometimes involved killing people, but only because it was her job and not due to personal grudges.

23: What's your OCs biggest secret?

Mithra was groped several times in her teen years by older drunk men, which fueled her dislike of alcohol. She also has a prominent scar behind her right ear that spans vertically from the top of her ear to the upper part of her neck. This scar was given to her by a drunk man who smashed a beer bottle into her head after she refused to sleep with him when she was sixteen. Had she not jerked her head away, the broken bottle would have disfigured her face, maybe even rendered her blind in her right eye.

24: What does your OC smell like?

Mithra doesn’t like perfume, so unlike Sephiroth, she simply smells like powder-fresh deodorant. Her hair can smell badly if she doesn’t wash it daily.

25: What time of year does your OC prefer?

(Same as 16)

26: Is your OC a human or an animal?

Mithra is very much human, albeit somewhat of a superhuman due to Mako injections.

27: What languages does your OC speak?

Mithra only knows the common language spoken by most people on Gaia. She also doesn’t have an apparent accent.

28: Does your OC like anime?

She’s not really into it itself, but she does like the art style and tries to replicate it in her spare time.

29: Can your OC swim?

Mithra is a surprisingly strong swimmer. Her small frame allows her to move in the water swiftly, and she has strong arms and legs thanks to SOLDIER training. She enjoys swimming whenever she gets the chance, especially during the hot summer months.

30: What does your OC choose to do about the, er, hair down there?

She shaves, but she would never let anyone wax her down there.

31: Does your OC believe in fairies?

Mithra isn’t overly superstitious, but she believes in ghosts.

32: Did your OC go to college? What did they major in?

Anything Mithra learned was either a result of an experience (bad or good) or from being in SOLDIER. She did know how to read and write when she woke up, though. Zack introduced Mithra to Angeal, who took her under his wing alongside Zack. Angeal taught her most of the skills she needed in SOLDIER, and Mithra caught on pretty quickly.

33: Are your OCs parents dead?

Mithra does not know who her parents are or if they abandoned her in that alleyway. She has faint visions of people whom she thinks are her parents, but she isn’t sure if they’re still alive or not. Seeing as no one came looking for her, it’s most likely that she was left to die by her parents, or her parents had died and whoever was caring for her got rid of her.

34: Is your OC religious?

Mithra does sometimes mention Shiva when she’s surprised, but for the most part she is agnostic.

35: How flexible is your OC?

Mithra is much more flexible than any of the other SOLDIERs. She is great at climbing and has great balance. One of her pastimes is doing parkour in the simulation room with the scene set to rooftops in Midgar. Her past life as a thief gave her the ability to jump fences and squeeze into tight spaces. She also has great grip strength and can hang on for long periods of time without letting go.

36: What turns your OC on?

Mithra loves people who are confident and assertive. She believes that the most “masculine” thing that a man could do is not care about what others think. She likes girls who also don’t care about outside opinions and stand up for themselves. The most attractive trait that a person could have, in her opinion, is undying loyalty.

37: What was your OCs first word?

As for the first word she uttered as an infant, Mithra has no idea what it was. However, the first thing she said when she woke up was “Huh?”

38: Does your OC have any pets?

While she’s living in the Shinra building in Midgar, Mithra does not have any pets. However, she dreams of getting a dog someday, particularly a husky or a corgi.

39: Who is your OCs biggest enemy?

At first, Mithra’s enemies are the criminals she works with as they try to force her into submission. When she escapes the criminal underworld and joins SOLDIER, her greatest enemy is Professor Hojo. She harbors a strong dislike towards him from the very beginning due to his obsession with using live subjects, and the hatred only grows when she finds out the truth about Sephiroth’s origins. Hojo’s feelings towards her are mutual, and he even goes so far as to torture her for meddling in his work.

40: What is the craziest thing your OC has done?

The craziest thing Mithra’s done is probably dating the famous, elite Silver General despite his hoards of fangirls, directly contributing to thousands of jealous women all over the Planet. She does not fear them one bit even though they are notorious for fanatically snooping and gossiping about Sephiroth. Then again, the Silver Elite are also terrified of her.

41: What is your OCs motto about life?

“I’m selfish, impatient, and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and, at times, hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.” - Marilyn Monroe

42: Does your OC drink coffee or tea?

Mithra is partial to both, but she prefers green tea and likes her coffee sweet with plenty of cream. She hates iced tea but she loves iced coffee with sweetened condensed milk.

43: Who is your OCs biggest hero?

Probably the three Firsts. Between Genesis’ dramatic personality, Angeal’s devotion to honor, and Sephiroth’s inner warmth, she deeply admires all three of them. However, unlike their fan clubs, who love them for their deeds, appearances, and heroics, she appreciates their personalities and her friendships with them.

44: What color eyes does your OC have?

Unlike most other SOLDIERs, Mithra does not have the signature “Mako eyes” despite receiving Mako. This makes it easy for her to hide the fact that she’s in SOLDIER. Her eyes remain their natural warm brown, and they appear to have golden reflects in direct sunlight.

45: Does your OC like reading?

Mithra absolutely hates reading. Part of it is from constantly listening to Genesis recite LOVELESS, and most of it is because she prefers actually doing things rather than reading about other people’s experiences. She has stolen LOVELESS from Genesis multiple times, much to his annoyance (don’t worry, they’re still best friends).

46: Is your OC loyal?

Having been betrayed before, Mithra vows to never betray her friends. She is an incredibly loyal friend and girlfriend. She would never cheat on Sephiroth with anyone, nor would she sell anyone out for her own gain. If she ever accidentally betrays someone, she will do anything to gain forgiveness.

47: Does your OC tolerate violence?

Unfortunately, Mithra has to tolerate some violence as a member of Shinra’s elite military. She is not overly fond of violence in situations where it’s unnecessary. However, she is more than willing to kill people who have hurt her or her close friends.

48: What social class is your OC from?

Mithra started out as a thief, a class that no average person would want any association with. She jumped dramatically in social hierarchy when she joined SOLDIER, becoming a high-ranking member of society. When she enlisted, Director Lazard was quick to remind the other members that she deserved respect as the only female. She was even given her own private suite with a full kitchen, bathroom, living room, and bedroom in order to ensure her privacy among all the men in SOLDIER.

49: What country was your OC born in?

Somewhere on the planet of Gaia. It’s not exactly known where Mithra was born, as she was already a teenager when she found herself in Midgar. Her family could have very well either been from Midgar originally or they may have moved from another town.

50: Does your OC cry easily?

Mithra has taught herself to be strong and stoic in times of hardship and show little emotion. She does not cry easily, but she prefers to work off her anger and sadness by doing target practice. When she meets her friends and eventually gets into a relationship, however, Mithra becomes more open with her feelings and is willing to let her emotions out rather than bearing her burdens. She feels that her friends accept her fully and will be there for her even when she seems weak.

51: What is your OCs favorite genre of music?

Mithra loves instrumental music that she can play while doing things such as cleaning, cooking, or drawing. She also loves songs that she can sing or dance to. She would often sing to herself when she was alone in order to keep herself occupied.

52: How does your OC feel about insects?

Despite her adventurous personality, Mithra is terrified of cockroaches, slugs, and moths. She likes flies and mosquitoes and the like as much as the next person, and she thinks that bees are cute at a distance. She is extra happy when Sephiroth moves in with her because it means that she doesn’t have to kill any roaches that wander into her apartment.

53: What is your OCs sexual orientation?

At first, Mithra believes that she is a lesbian, as she only feels attraction to women during her time as a thief. However, everything changes when she joins SOLDIER and she’s exposed to charismatic men such as Zack, Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth. She comes out as bisexual at the age of 18, which makes her the only member of SOLDIER to be an open member of the LGBTQ+ community at the time.

54: Does your OC smoke?

Similarly to her feelings towards alcohol, Mithra loathes tobacco. She was forced to smell it when wandering around the criminal underworld and never got used to it. She also knows that smoking can ruin one’s body and does not want to destroy herself at such a young age.

55: What gender is your OC?

Mithra identifies as a cisgender female. She is mostly feminine, but she enjoys crossdressing in men’s clothes. A particularly amusing instance of this is when she tries on Sephiroth’s coat, which drags behind her like a cape, and the sleeves are several inches too long. Sephiroth does get a good laugh out of this, though.

56: What kind of clothes does your OC wear?

Mithra’s wardrobe consists of crop tops and comfortable pants such as sweatpants or leggings. She hates long sleeves and therefore wears tanks most of the time. When she’s not wearing her SOLDIER combat boots, Mithra is normally either barefoot or sporting sandals. She’s also quite fond of two-pieced dresses, as seen with her choice of fashion for Shinra’s annual banquet.

57: Would you call your OC adventurous?

Mithra lives for adventure. During her time as a thief, she would wander around the slums of Midgar with constant interest in the different people living in the city. Her job as a SOLDIER only gave her new opportunities for adventures around Gaia. She has traveled to Costa Del Sol, Banora, and several other small towns. She also travels to several remote areas.

58: Is your OC introverted or extroverted?

Despite seeming more introverted at first due to her solidarity, Mithra is actually very extroverted and loves being around people. Befriending Zack and then the others turned out to be one of the best things that happened to her, as it allowed her to relate to other people and feel a sense of belonging.

59: What is the first thing that someone would notice about your OC?

Mithra is very short, standing at 5’3”. She looks even shorter when she’s with her fellow SOLDIERs. The only one close to her height is Cloud Strife, and even he is four inches taller than her. She also does not sport blue eyes like other members of SOLDIER, but instead retains her natural brown eyes.

60: Does your OC enjoy nature?

Even though she’s mostly a city girl, Mithra does enjoy the great outdoors. She goes camping with Zack and Cloud several times and fully enjoys it (partially because she can scare Zack). She does drag her boyfriend with her a few times, much to his displeasure.

#mithra valkyris #background #world building #questions #ffvii #final fantasy vii #zack fair #cloud strife #sephiroth #angeal hewley #genesis rhapsodos #aerith gainsborough #tifa lockhart #midgar #oc

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years

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Whumptober Day 28: The Fury And The Hunted

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 28. Set in my Httyd Zombie AU. The end of the world makes way for certain extremes, even religious ones. The Dragon Riders try not to mingle with any groups, but when one gets a hold of them, Hiccup won't have a good time.

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Hiccup

Pairing: None

Words: 3 588

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Hunting Season

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Almost didn't post this one. But here it is.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy.

Ao3

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The Order of the Dragon, that is what the group calls themselves. They are a bunch of religious zealots who have formed shortly after Outbreak Day. They believe that dragons are "the true inheritors" of the world, that humans have been in their way for too long and that this is the reason why human civilization as they used to know it fell. As punishment for taking up space.

Before they met them, the Dragon Riders already saw signs of them. Things like "in fire, they'll rise" or "the world will burn and belong to them once more" written in large letters on brick walls or old, peeled-off billboards. There were surprisingly creepy effigies that were vaguely dragon-shaped. Large murals of what appeared to be the end of times where humanity died horrifically in a sea of flames while dragons flew into the light, into a better tomorrow.

It was unnerving to say the least and the Dragon Riders had decided to not seek these people out. But not running into them and getting into deep trouble would be hugely out of character for them, so that is exactly what ends up happening.

The location they are at is a jungle. Not one made of trees and green, but out of tall buildings and grey. This isn't their home turf, so when the Order caught wind of the Dragon Riders and decided they needed to have them, it was embarrassingly easy to capture them.

Hiccup finds himself thrown down a hole. They'd singled him out, because of course they have, and separated him and Toothless.

He doesn't know why and they didn't tell him what he's supposed to be doing here either. They just spouted some nonsense about Night Furies and proving yourself worthy in front of whatever or something or other. Hiccup didn't listen too closely, much too preoccupied with his group and not getting separated from his Bud before they threw him down here.

He's lucky to have a slope break his fall. Rolling the rest of the way down, over dirt and stones, only to then collide with the remains of a support beam was horrendous. His back is sure to bruise.

Now he's here, back on his feet and staring up at the night sky and not hearing or seeing his friends or the group that has captured them.

He hopes this won't end too badly for him and that his friends will be okay.

He turns away from the hole he'd come through and stares at what lies before him. Nothing but pitch-black darkness as far as the eye can see, which isn't very far at all.

This must be a basement of some sort. An underground parking lot? What little light the moonlight can give is reflected in the back shield window of a car. Other than that, he can make nothing out.

He can't go back up, it's much too high and too steep. So the only way left is forwards.

He goes to a knee and searches his prosthetic. It's been modified to hold certain items in case his pack ever goes missing and since it has been taken by Order, he has to fish a flashlight out of his fake leg.

He flicks it on and thinks of how hasn't changed the batteries in quite a while, hopefully, it'll last him for however long he's expected to be down here.

Taking a deep and nervous breath, he wills his feet to carry him forward.

There is little else to find in this place. Other than proof that his underground parking lot theory is right, judging by the cars he finds and the parking space painted on the ground.

There is the occasional dead body, but they are all too far gone to be of any real threat if they weren't quite as dead as they were supposed to be yet.

He passes them without giving them much thought, too used to the sight by now, and continues looking.

It's quiet in here and that unsettles him. Not that he's usually surrounded by heaps of noise, but everything is supposed to make a sound. Here, the dead are silent and the scuttling of rats is missing. Here, the only one making sound is him and that is concerning.

He comes to a standstill in the darkness, slowly waving his flashlight around to see if he can scan anything in his surroundings. But apart from another beam here and there, there is nothing.

His heart's pounding grows worse. He would be able to keep his cool a lot better if Toothless was here with him.

The silence stretches on and Hiccup isn't sure where to go. He's been walking in a straight line so far, he could continue that way until he hits a wall and then he can only go right or left. Whichever direction he takes is bound to give him one of two things. A general idea of how big this place is or a way out and both will only be beneficial for him.

So he continues on the way forward, walking the straight line until the first wall he hits. There is the brief thought that he should've done this back at the hole he'd been thrown into, where there were walls to follow on each side of him.

But he has eventually reached it, the other side of the parking lot. He halts and touches the cool surface as if relieved to have found it.

But then he notices something.

Pulling his hand back, he finds it is covered in soot. So this wall has been burned before. By a dragon, judging from the pattern. Hiccup backs away and lifts the flashlight to take a look. It is quite a sizeable scorch mark.

With this new development, he turns towards the body nearest to him and walks over, kneeling by it to find that it isn't one of the turned. This is someone who had been killed by something else and context clues would suggest by a dragon. Perhaps the same one responsible for the fire damage to the wall.

Is that what he's meant to do down here? Meet a dragon? Survive this dragon? Either way, something with the dragon that has made this place its home.

But what kind of species would make its home in such darkness? Not many prefer a den underground like this.

Feeling the pressure, Hiccup searches his limited dragon knowledge.

A Whispering Death? No, they usually prefer to make a home more north of the globe, he believes. And they dwell in hole they make themselves, too, a burrow made out of a complex system. This wouldn't do for them. Unless he simply had the luck to not stumble upon, or into, one of the many holes this species is known for.

The second species that comes to mind is the Night Fury. He remembers once meeting Toothless in a place just as dark. The scorch mark is similar to his Bud's.

Standing back up, Hiccup has to swallow a lump in his throat and his pulse, which had slowed during his walk, is quickening again.

A Whispering Death he can barely deal with, especially on his own, but a Night Fury? He has a feeling kind words, some fish, and compassion won't work on this one.

Hiccup forces himself to be hyper-aware of his surroundings. He's always alert, he has to be in order to survive, but he strains his hearing to try and pick up anything that he might've possibly missed.

Soft shuffling? The nearly undetectable movement of a predator sizing up its easy prey? Hiccup has made it so deliciously easy for it, standing in total darkness with the only light source around.

The fear must be obvious on his face. Though he tries to suppress it, he knows it's there as his eyes search the void surrounding him.

It's there somewhere. He doesn't need to see or hear it to know that it is. After being out here in the new wild, he has a sense for that, they all do. Night Furies are feared for a reason, too.

What should he do? Continue on and search for the way out? Maybe there's a staircase somewhere, something a fully grown dragon of this species will not easily fit into.

It would seem like he has no other choice. What other option would there be? The hole? He'd need wings to get out of there by himself. Or at least a rope with something to hook it onto the ground floor.

So he steels his shaky nerves as much as he is able and continues onward.

His footsteps are echoing uncomfortably loud in this deathly silence, his left prosthetic dragging just a tad bit. As he decides to go left, he swears he can feel a pair of eyes following him. His gut feeling tells him that he isn't simply imagining it.

Any moment now. He could be attacked at any moment and he has nothing to defend himself with. He has a tiny knife, but what good will that do against a dragon?

And what will it be? Torn to shreds? Ripped limb from limb? Blasted to pieces? Or will his fate not be as gentle or as swift?

He hates this. He hates this with every fiber of his being. He almost wants it to just happen already, to get it over with just so he won't have to suffer through this ever-building stress longer than he has to.

He's sweating, he can feel his clothes starting to stick to him, to his back and under his armpits especially. If that dragon can't already hear him, he can certainly smell him.

Finally, he reaches the exit, or rather, what should've been the exit.

It is hard to see at night, but a gate blocks his way out and it is locked with a sturdy padlock. If he had something to pick it, that wouldn't be a problem, but all of that is in his stolen backpack. The only ones carrying a multitude of lockpicks on their person itself would be the twins, Ruffnut in particular. So he's trapped.

He could try to find a way around it, if he has the time to. Hiccup swears he can feel the walls closing in on him.

He's trapped with a dragon possibly stalking him. If he doesn't manage a way around this lock, his only other option are the stairs and that is only if this parking lot even has them.

Taking a deep breath to calm his fraying nerves, Hiccup wants to stay here and work on this lock first, but before he can, he swears that there is something behind him.

In the process of pulling a tool from his prosthetic, he can feel the unnerving chill run down his spine and the hair on the back of his neck rise. He halts. Is that breathing that he hears? He's been paying extra attention and so he knows that wasn't there before.

It's waiting for him to turn and face it, it's waiting for him to run. His legs certainly want to, even though they feel like jelly.

But he wouldn't be standing here today if he wasn't good at pushing through his fear, he just has to push some more.

He gets back up to his feet and turns, shaking, holding the flashlight up and the face that stares back at him isn't his Bud's toothless smile. It is that of a ferocious predator staring at its next meal.

Its eyes blink in the light and it growls. To avoid angering it further, Hiccup decides to lower the beam.

"Dragons don't eat humans. Dragons don't eat humans." He tells himself, knowing well enough that there's a chance it can understand him.

He backs up, stumbling with his prosthetic, and the face moves along with him. It snarls and grows limbs as it treads into the beam of light claws scraping threateningly on the ground.

It is a Night Fury, but this isn't normal hunting behavior. He's seen Toothless hunt before and they don't do it like this. This one is almost ordering him to back up and all Hiccup can do is listen until he hits the gate, which rattles behind him.

Is that a sick sense of glee he sees appearing on the dragon's face? Who knew even dragons could have the occasional sadist?

With little elsewhere to go and nothing to defend himself with, Hiccup feels his Night Fury's name on the tip of his tongue, it is stuck in his throat to the point that he can barely breathe.

This is a much larger specimen, too. Most likely quite a bit older than Toothless, but age probably doesn't hinder it at all.

It's piercingly yellow eyes are glued to him. It's growling grows as it towers over him, intimidating him into cowering.

It then gestures to the side with its head and Hiccup realizes Toothless isn't the only one mimicking human behavior. And yet as fascinating as it is, it is ten times more terrifying as it's telling him to run.

"Run!" That face commands. It doesn't want meek prey, it wants to chase.

"Oh, fuck me." He doesn't swear often, barely at all, but when he does, it's with tears of terror blurring his vision.

An instinct to survive wants him to run, too, and he listens. Hoping that it's at least a little bit caught off guard, he springs into action, going for the right.

The Night Fury watches Hiccup go, disappearing in the darkness as he turns the flashlight off.

He's seen a car or two parked in this direction. He reaches it, hands on the dusty hull, and kneels.

He can't see anything without his flashlight and the worst part is that his predator still has ways of seeing him.

But it's not trying to lurk this time, he can hear its weight shifting where he once stood. It's not even in a hurry to follow him.

The car he's kneeling by groans under a heavy weight and that is the only hint he'll get to know that its standing over him. He's still trembling and struggles to draw air.

He lights his lighter, doesn't even dare look up, and spots his next hiding spot. Unfortunately, they'll exist solely out of cars and support beams. Fortunately, however, that this Night Fury wants this to be a game probably means he won't be immediately killed. Probably.

He kills the light before he moves away from the vehicle, diving under the next one. It won't give him as much safety as he would've liked, but it's something between him and it.

He wonders what he should do. Well, logically he knows he should calm down first as he won't be getting anywhere by panicking and acting on pure instinct alone. Here, he can take a moment.

It's not easy. He can hear the dragon circling the car, still not trying to be silent as it wants Hiccup to hear it prowl.

It's having the desired effect. He's trying really hard to stay calm, but hearing clawed paws scratching the ground in endless circles around him is making that very hard.

He takes deep breaths, in and out, in order to not give in to the dragon's tactic. He has to stay calm, he needs to remind himself of that. Only then can he think his way out of this.

What does he have at his disposal? That question is answered quickly as the answer is absolutely nothing. That flashlight, a knife, his pocket multitool? Does he have that? Checking his pocket, he comes to the relieving conclusion that it's still there. His most prized possession, they didn't take it from him. Not that they were smart enough to search his pockets.

Knowing that he has it with him sets him at ease a little and Hiccup lets out a calming breath. The Night Fury stalking him bangs on the hood of the car to rile him up and Hiccup jumps, but it's easier to will himself into a slightly more peaceful state of mind. As peaceful as one can be in this predicament.

These are the things he has and with these things he'll have to make a plan.

Luckily for him, one may already be forming.

When the Night Fury is on one side of the car, Hiccup rolls out from the other side. It hears him and steps over the vehicle with a roar of excitement. It was almost beginning to wonder if his newest prey was simply going to lie there and wait for death.

It wants to take a swipe at him, just to see how this one will react, but Hiccup turns to him, holds up his trusty flashlight, and flicks it on. The flash of the light will mean the dragon's eyesight needs at least a second to adjust. It has been blinded.

Hiccup runs back to the gate. He wants the dragon to blast it open for him, but he's going to have to do something to push the dragon that far. Risk his life pissing it off? It probably won't end well, but his options are dwindling quickly.

He doesn't have much dragon knowledge to fall back on either. Ever since meeting Toothless, he's been interested in learning more about dragons, but he already has so much to worry about, he doesn't have much time. The only knowledge he picks up on is the kind that helps him stay alive.

He's running completely blind on his way back, and he nearly stumbles over the corpse he found earlier. He can hear the Night Fury approach and he shines the flashlight right in its face again, blinding it once more.

The dragon already lets out an agitated snarl at just the second time and Hiccup figures that pissing it off won't be a problem. It's probably used to less levelheaded prey.

"Oh great, just like I wanted." Hiccup puffs and continues on his way to the gate. He sees it with a quick glimpse of the light and makes use of his good memory to remember where it is as he runs towards it.

He reaches it, hand grabbing hold of the gate locking him in and turns to blind the Night Fury again as its right behind him already.

It lets out an enraged cry as it's temper flares. It lashes out, but not with a blast like Hiccup had hoped, instead striking him with its claws and hitting his chest. Four deep lashes bleed through his shirts on his left breast. A cry leaves him and Hiccup falls to the ground.

Instead of finding himself frozen in place, Hiccup jumps back into action and backs away, flashing the light repeatedly to confuse the dragon on the distance between them.

It works, it's not immediately right on top of him again, and Hiccup struggles to his feet. The only reason why he's still moving after taking a hit such as that must be his will to live.

Free hand pressing fruitlessly down on his wounds, Hiccup wonders if he should give his plan a second try and just be better at dodging. That Night Fury is going to have to blast at him at some point, right?

He doesn't get a second chance. His predator has already learned that Hiccup might not be as fun as his previous prey and it's a sore loser.

Always an agile and fast dragon, it cuts Hiccup off and he knows only because he can hear it. It swipes for a second time and Hiccup is thrown to the ground, skull almost smashing against the concrete ground.

It hovers over him with a snarl and it hits him once more, flinging him back in the other direction, its claws getting caught and tearing through his clothing.

Hiccup climbs back up to his feet somehow, but it doesn't like that and it grabs hold of him to pull him back down. It roars in his face, it's a deafening sound.

Not knowing what else to do, Hiccup takes his knife and swipes back, cutting its lip and nose.

Far from a killing blow, that move enrages it and that's when it finally charges a blast.

Sadly, Hiccup isn't standing before the gate, is instead lying underneath the Fury's jaws.

Fortune is on his side as someone does blast the gate open and upon spotting the scene lit up with a lavender light, that someone cries out in outrage.

Hiccup looks over.

"Toothless!"

And he isn't the only one, the other Dragons follow swiftly. He's been saved.

The hostile Night Fury looks at the five new arrivals and feels threatened. Hookfang steps forward, lighting his hide on fire, and growls challengingly. He's warning it to back off.

Knowing that it's outnumbered, it does and retreats back towards the shadows. It is once again silent.

Toothless quickly approaches and frets over his Rider, but Hiccup doesn't let him, wrapping his arms around his Bud's neck and just savoring the feeling of being rescued.

"Oh, I'm so happy to see you, Bud." Hiccup tells him and Toothless sits, allowing him to have his hug. He can smell the blood on him, but knows that Fishlegs and the others can't be far behind them. He can take a look at Hiccup and then all will be well again.

#whumptober2020 #no.28 #hunting season #httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfics #hiccup haddock #hiccup whump #my fanfics #the fury and the hunted #httyd zombie au

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

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Neighbors (1/3)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: After a late night you realize you left your keys at work. You’ve heard your new neighbor frequently come in late at night, so you decide to try and see if he can help. Warnings: Language (per usual), blood & violence Word Count: 1.5k A/N: The people have spoken! Also I got a little carried away with this one...it was supposed to be a one-shot. Whoops.

Part Two Part Three

You were entering your second year of residency at Gotham General, much to your family’s chagrin, you had decided to remain in the crime-ridden city. The spot you held was coveted by many students, after all if you could make it at Gotham General you could make it anywhere. Hospitals often fought for doctors exiting the residency program in Gotham.

You lived just south of Gotham, closer to Bludhaven, which made for a slightly longer commute…but it made you feel more at ease not being in the heart of Gotham City. You knew most of your neighbors, save one who you gathered moved in about six months ago. You still had not met the person, though you had gathered they worked quite odd hours. Being a light-sleeper, you often heard them arrive between 2 and 4 in the morning. You would listen as they stumbled around the apartment next to yours, until finally silence fell once again.

Sometimes you loved your professional choices, other times…like tonight, you did not. You were on-call, which in Gotham meant be ready because you will get called, and just as your clock hit 10 your phone rang. Here we go. You gathered your things and headed for the hospital. The surgery ended at nearly 3 am and you slowly made your way home, grateful you had the next day off. You began to search for your keys as you waited in the elevator. No no no, where the hell are my keys? Panic set in as you pressed the button to head back to the garage. They must be in my car, right? You had torn the car a part and still came up with nothing. You climbed back in the elevator and dug for your phone. Dead, of course it’s dead, you didn’t get a chance to charge in before you were called in. You moved down the hall and reluctantly knocked on your neighbor’s door, hoping he was awake.

Several minutes had passed and you still heard no movement behind the locked door. Great. You realized you would probably be sleeping in the hallway when you heard a crash come from your mysterious neighbor’s apartment. Hopeful, you went and knocked on the door once again.

*****

Dick’s patrol tonight had been a long one, and he was just ready to be home. The exhaustion had set in, and by the time he attempted to crawl through his window, he stumbled and fell into the coffee table. Moments after he heard a knock at his door. He scrambled to get off the black and blue costume and reached for some sweatpants before opening the door.

“Uhm…sorry about the noise.” He went to close the door again.

“Oh, that’s not actually why –” you began as he reopened the door. “I was hoping to use your phone? I must have left my keys at work…”

The man turned around and went further back into his apartment, the door shutting automatically behind him. What a nice neighbor. You rolled your eyes and sat back at the foot of your door, a few seconds later your neighbor emerged from his apartment with a lockpick set in his hand. He motioned for you to move and had the door opened almost immediately.

You nodded and headed inside, but as you turned to thank him you noticed a gash along the inside of his bicep. “You know, you are bleeding right?”

He looked down at the gash and sighed. “Thanks…” the exhaustion coated his voice as he lazily pointed towards his own apartment. Quickly you grabbed his wrist and motioned for him to come inside.

“Sit. Let me look.” Surprisingly he did as he was told. You grabbed your medical kit and sat next to him on the couch. “This is going to need stitches.”

“Oh.” He motioned to get up, but you pushed him back down.

“I didn’t say you could leave. I’ll do it.”

He let out an exasperated chuckle, “No hospital preaching?”

You shrugged, “A lot of people in Gotham don’t like going to the hospital.” You looked at the other scars and bruises on his exposed chest. “Most people are too afraid to tell the doctors how they got their wounds…this is going to hurt.”

He nodded and you started to sew up the wound. As you finished, you looked up to find him with his head in his hand asleep. How the fuck. You shook your head and cleaned up the mess before you. Slowly you picked up his feet and rotated them so he laid on the couch. You then grabbed the blanket off the back of you couch and placed it over him before making your way to your own room. You desperately wanted a shower, but decided against it, given the stranger in your living room. Locking the bedroom door you climbed into bed and drifted to sleep.

Only a few hours passed before the sunlight streaming through your window woke you up. You tried to hide your face from the light but eventually you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Opening the door, you found the stranger still passed out on your couch. You wanted to check his vitals, see what kind of condition he was in, but you didn’t dare wake him. Instead you made coffee and started preparing breakfast. A good breakfast was something you always cherished on your off days, work made it hard for you to eat anything proper during your shifts.

You threw biscuits in the oven and some sausage in a pan. Just as you were flipping the patties, and starting the gravy, the man on the couch began to stir. You called over to him, “Be careful not to pull out the stitches. If you want breakfast, it will be another…” you checked the oven before finishing the statement, “seven minutes. There is coffee if you want it.”

He looked around the apartment, taking a moment to remember last night events, before walking into the kitchen. He pulled down a mug and filled it to the brim. “Uhm…thanks, you don’t have to –”

“Yeah, but I always cook breakfast on my day off. Why break routine? Plus then I can get a look at those stitches before sending you off again.” You took the sausage out of the pan and threw in some eggs before motioning for him to go sit back down. He obliged, though you were pretty sure it was because he was still confused.

After turning of the oven and the stove, you pulled two plates from the cabinet, as well as some silverware from the drawer.

“In this house, we make our own plates,” you said as you pulled the biscuits from the oven. Turning around, you found him already behind you grabbing the plate you placed on the counter. You nodded as you poured more coffee into your mug and then grabbed your own plate. Watching him head towards the table, you chuckled to yourself, “I really don’t ever use that. You can sit on the couch.”

You made your way to sit beside him as you turned on the tv to some mindless show you’d seen a hundred times…more out of habit than anything else.

“So…neighbor. Want to at least tell me your name?”

“Oh, sorry. Dick, Dick Grayson.”

“Get jumped last night on your way home from work? I assume you work night shifts, given the late hours I hear you come in

“No, actually, I’m day shift at Bludhaven PD.”

You gave him a confused look, “You know it’s like 9 am on a Tuesday, right?”

“Yeah, boss doesn’t really care as long as I keep up with my case work.”

“So that lovely gash on your arm? Case gone bad?”

“You could say that…”

You ate the rest of the meal in silence, save the minor laughs induced by the tv show you were now both watching. As you both finished, you motioned to his arm.

“Alright, let me have a look before I send you on your merry way.” Once you were satisfied you grabs the plates from the table and moved to the kitchen. “You’ll need to come back in a week so I can remove those. I’m off Tuesday through Thursday.” He moved off the couch and headed for the door, “Oh I wasn’t kicking you out by the way. I understand if you want to stay for a bit.” You watched as he contemplated your words before moving towards the door once again.

“Thanks, I should probably try and get some more sleep…or actually get some work done.”

“As a doctor, I would recommend the former.” You smiled as Dick shut the door behind him.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing imagine #batboys imagine #batboys x reader

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mediaevalmusereads · 3 years

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Daring and the Duke. By Sarah MacLean. New York: Avon, 2020.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Bareknuckle Bastards #3

Summary: Grace Condry has spent a lifetime running from her past. Betrayed as a child by her only love and raised on the streets, she now hides in plain sight as queen of London’s darkest corners. Grace has a sharp mind and a powerful right hook and has never met an enemy she could not best, until the man she once loved returns. Single-minded and ruthless, Ewan, Duke of Marwick, has spent a decade searching for the woman he never stopped loving. A long-ago gamble may have lost her forever, but Ewan will go to any lengths to win Grace back… and make her his duchess. Reconciliation is the last thing Grace desires. Unable to forgive the past, she vows to take her revenge. But revenge requires keeping Ewan close, and soon her enemy seems to be something else altogether—something she can’t resist, even as he threatens the world she's built, the life she's claimed…and the heart she swore he'd never steal again.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: explicit sexual content, violence, blood, references to child abuse and maiming

Overview: There was only one book left in the Bareknuckle Bastards series so I thought “why not?” I was curious as to how MacLean would redeem the main antagonist of the first two books, and I rather liked Grace every time she showed up on the page. While there were some things I enjoyed, I would put this finale closer in quality to Brazen and the Beast than Wicked and the Wallflower. There wasn’t much to bind the two leads together aside from their past, in my opinion, and while MacLean attempts to tell a darker, angstier story, much of the plot felt empty and repetitive. Still, there were some nice nods to feminism and consent was always at the forefront, so I’m giving this book 3 stars.

Writing: MacLean’s prose isn’t radically different in Daring than it was in Brazen. It might be a little more serious, as the subject matter is definitely darker, but overall, it’s easy to get through and conveys MacLean’s ideas clearly. My only major complaint is that Daring felt more slow-paced than its prequels, perhaps because we got a lot of filler and repetition of the same scene but from different perspectives. Granted, some of this happens in the previous books, but because Daring isn’t largely focused on something external (like a business rivalry or a power play with an antagonist), everything just seemed to drag.

Also like Brazen, I don’t think MacLean used her themes to the fullest extent. There were some interesting attempts, such as the story about Apollo and the recurring mask motif, but there were also some duds, like the commentary about people being mad that Victoria was queen because she was a woman (Victoria was not a good symbol of “girl power,” in my opinion). While any one of these could have worked, they didn’t have as heavy of an impact as the themes in Wicked.

I also think MacLean held back on giving her characters unique quirks that served as metaphors; while Grace does have a tattoo that has some significance, it didn’t have sustained presence like Felicity’s lockpicking or Whit’s two watches. As a result, Daring felt the most thematically flat of the three books, and I wish as much care was put into both Brazen and Daring as was in Wicked.

Plot: Aside from the romance, most of the plot of this book revolves around Ewan’s redemption and a subtle concern over the increased frequency of raids on houses of ill repute. To be honest, I think this book started out rather well; Grace rescues Ewan from the explosion that happed at the end of Brazen, and their initial reunion and confrontation was fairly angsty. From there, though, I felt like the plot started to get repetitive and had no shape. Devil and Whit would threaten to beat up Ewan, Ewan would make some grand gesture (like hosting a ball or ask to help Covent Garden in a way), Grace would be attracted to that gesture, they’d have some intimate moment, Grace would then get nervous and run, only for the cycle to start over. While I did like the ways in which Ewan tried to earn forgiveness by helping Covent Garden, there wasn’t a whole lot of tension in these scenes aside from the threat of a brawl. I also didn’t feel like the subplot about Grace’s bordello was prominent enough or thematically related enough to have an impact; the bordello raids seemed to be a commentary about women and power, but it fell flat for me because Ewan didn’t really have to struggle with seeing Grace as an equal or as someone with power in her own right. He’s mostly already there, so the commentary felt rather hollow.

I think I would have much rather seen a plot with stronger parallels to the romance or one with more dramatic references to the characters’ pasts. Maybe Ewan’s secret could have been at risk throughout the book, and Grace has to decide what to do (which could have made for an interesting final showdown, if Ewan’s true identity had been discovered). Getting out of that pickle seems like a much more interesting plot than the empty gestures towards women in power that we got.

Characters: I liked Grace in Wicked, so I was happy that she got her own story in Daring. She’s a smart businesswoman with an intelligence network of almost all women, and I love the pleasure she takes in roaming the rooftops and dressing in bold colors. I also really love the friendships she has with her lieutenants at the bordello, and the sibling banter between her and Devil and Whit. However, my admiration from her cooled whenever she would engage in her back-ad-forth with Ewan. She never seemed to know what she wanted and was fairly flighty, which is understandable to an extent but irritating when there isn’t a strong plot or clear emotional progression to back it up. I always felt like Grace was stagnating and never really evolving, and her main character flaw was just to get over her past and hesitation about Ewan’s title. I wanted her to have something more, like an insecurity that Ewan could help her with.

Ewan, for his part, is somewhat interesting in that he was a villain in previous books. I liked the angst he brought to the story as well as the heartbreak when we finally learn why he made certain choices in his past, but other than that, he didn’t really have an exciting emotional arc. After the first scene, Ewan leaves London for a year to make himself a better man worthy of Grace, and when he returns, he seems to have finished growing and only needs the people around him to see it. I feel like we were cheated of seeing that growth happen on-page.

Side characters were fine and served their purpose. Devil and Whit were at their best when teasing Grace, but at their worst when talking about Ewan. I felt like they were always threatening to beat Ewan up but they never acted, which meant that their words felt hollow and their confrontations were useless. It would have been more interesting, in my opinion, if they had had more honest conversations with Ewan about their pasts so the angst was not just between Ewan and Grace but between the brothers as well. I wanted the brothers to struggle more with their emotions, rather than just think about punching one another.

Grace’s lieutenants, Veronique and Zeva, were fun when they were teasing Grace, but it also felt like they were there to relay information about the raids, which weren’t all that interesting. I liked that Grace was shown to have female friendships, and I liked that the lieutenants showed women in positions of power outside of a domestic setting, but ultimately, the raids just weren’t exciting enough to me to think of the lieutenants as much more than filler.

Romance: Based on the events from the previous two books, some readers may not find Ewan redeemable, so the quality of this romance will largely depend on what your personal threshold is. Personally, I was willing to give MacLean a shot, and while I do think she did everything she could to show that Ewan was trying to atone, I also don’t think she did enough to make the romance exciting. Grace and Ewan seemed to be mainly bound by their pasts, and though Ewan says he loves Grace for her boldness and power, it seemed all tell and no show. Part of the romance requires Ewan and Grace to learn who the other is now rather than try to recapture their childhoods, and I felt like not much of that happened outside of Grace just giving Ewan a tour of her bordello and telling stories about what happened to her after she fled with her brothers. I would have much rather had moments where the two bonded over some shared values - the laundry scene in Covent Garden kind of did that, but it was so dragged out and nothing was really built upon it, so I don’t think it had the intended effect.

I also don’t feel like Ewan and Grace grew within the romance very much, and by that I mean they didn’t help each other overcome some kind of character flaw. Ewan’s character development happened off-page, so most of his arc was about getting others to see that he had changed rather than changing before our eyes. Grace’s main barrier to the relationship was her past and her inability to trust, which would have been fine if all her reservations didn’t go out the window the moment she noticed Ewan’s muscles. It was somewhat exhausting to see her have an intimate moment with Ewan, insist that it was just this one time, then flee because they couldn’t be together (due to his title and her emotional hang-ups). The cycle would repeat, and it didn’t feel like each encounter built on the previous one. I think I would have liked to see a continuous evolution where the two learned who the other had become in the 20 years they were apart, uncovering truths along the way and building back trust rather than this back-and-forth of “we can’t be together” and “well, we can bang this one time but NO MORE after tonight.”

TL;DR: Despite including some delicious angst, Daring and the Duke ultimately relies on a cyclical romance and a lackluster plot, making this book a middling finale to the Bareknuckle Bastards series.

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kaz-of-ketterdamn · 4 years

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Seven Devils (In My Heart)

A/N: Here is chapter five of the fic I wrote for the GVBB, which was hosted by @grishaversebigbang!

Corporalki: @infinite-cats

Summary: Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Wylan, and Nina hadn’t seen each other for years after they broke into the Ice Court, retrieved Kuwei Yul-Bo, fought to get Inej back, and drove Pekka Rollins out of business. They never spoke about what happened–not to anyone–and they never planned on it. The truth was, even though they had told each other they would stay in contact with one another, they had long since forgotten about the promises they’d made to one another when their emotions were running high after everything that happened. It isn’t until Inej catches word of unrest in Ravka that she returns to Kerch, where she plans to inform Nina of the new development, that the group, at least some of it, is together again. While Inej had planned on leaving again as soon as she’d spoken to Nina, her plans change once she catches wind of a new threat here, in Ketterdam. With danger surrounding the group, they are drawn back together, and while facing this new obstacle, hidden feelings come to light and many truths are revealed.

Previous parts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

ao3 link: Seven Devils (In My Heart)

Chapter 5:

Kuwei

Kuwei came to slowly, his head fuzzy and pouding. It was only when he tried to move but found his himself bound to a chair that his grogginess seemed to dissipate, his mind overtaken by fear. Suddenly, he was very much awake. He was awake, and he was panicking. Looking around, he saw a room similar to what he imagined Kaz’s office would look like if he was a merchant instead of a gang leader. There was a large desk before him, and an empty chair next to him. A large safe sat in the corner, and a plush velvet sofa was pushed against the wall beneath an intricate painting of the ships docked at Ketterdam’s harbour. His eyes darted around nervously, searching for anything that could tell him where he was or how he could get out, but the room had no windows, and the only way out was through the door. Not that he could even get there, with him being bound to a chair and all. As he looked around, he continued to struggle with his bindings, attempting to get loose.

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you,” someone said, entering the room. Kuwei stilled and turned to see who had come to join him, but whoever it was wore an intricate mask, concealing their face. They wore loose clothes, making it difficult to identify any telling physical features, and the platform shoes on their feet were Ketterdam’s current obsession--for people of all genders--so that didn’t help him at all. After taking them in, there was an awkward moment of silence, which was ended when Kuwei resumed his struggle with the ropes. The person released an audible groan and traipsed around the desk, took a seat behind it, and began to tap their nails against the surface. At first, this did nothing but annoy Kuwei, but then he started listening. The taps weren’t random, they were a code: morse code.

He counted out the taps: short, short short. Long. Long, long long. Short, long, long, short . The first word was stop. His heart raced as the tapping continued in even, methodical beats: l ong, long. Long, long long. Short, short, short, long. Short, short. Long, short. Long, long, short . Moving. He groaned at that, slumping his head forward and falling still; it was clear he wasn’t going to be able to loosen or undo the ropes. He looked back up when the tapping stopped, and he stared at the masked figure.

“Who are you?” he demanded, summoning his courage. The person stared at him for a moment before answering.

“Who am I?” they asked in a bored, weary voice. “I am a nobody, just another person left scarred by the chaos in the world. I am collateral damage of other people’s fights, and I have decided it’s finally time to change that.”

Before Kuwei had the chance to answer, another masked figure entered the room. With a sigh, the newcomer said “Enough with the dramatics, Zoya, please .”

Scowling, the first person--who Kuwei now knew was named Zoya--shifted her focus from Kuwei to the other masked person and said “What is the point of wearing a mask if you’re just going to reveal our identities, Genya! ” and ripped her mask off. She slammed it down on the desk harshly, and Genya slid hers off gracefully with a chuckle. Now that their masks were off, Kuwei finally had the chance to see what they looked like so he could tell Kaz whenever he got out of here.

The first woman, Zoya, had wavy raven hair that cascaded down her back like a waterfall, stopping just short of the small of her back. Her skin was a flawless golden-brown, and her startling sapphire eyes pierced Kuwei’s gaze, prompting him to look away nervously. The other woman, Genya, was just as beautiful. She had fiery auburn hair and golden amber eyes, which shone brightly against her alabaster skin. Her beauty was startling, moreso once Kuwei saw the scars across her face. They were horrific, but she wore them like armour, and somehow she made them look natural. Even if she didn’t know it, she looked like a badass, and the silent courage radiating off of her was scarier to Kuwei than Zoya’s resting bitch face or death glare--both of which were pretty scary.

While Kuwei had been observing his captors, he’d zoned out and failed to notice their conversation. He was only pulled back to the present when Zoya cleared her throat rather loudly, drawing Kuwei’s attention to the pointed look on her face. The longer he started into her piercing blue eyes, the more nervous he became. Eventually, the weight of her gaze, accompanied by the silence surrounding them--was too much for Kuwei.

“Why am I here? What do you want from me?” Kuwei asked, eyes darting back and forth between Zoya and Genya.

“To be honest, we don’t want anything from you,” Genya said casually.

“Then why am I here?” Kuwei asked again.

“Because,” the redhead continued. “We need the people you’re associated with, and you were the easiest target.”

“So, what? I’m the bait or something?” Kuwei replied skeptically.

“Exactly,” Zoya nodded. “It’s not like we could go after Dirtyhands himself, so we needed to take something he values in order to lure him here.”

Her reply made Kuwei burst into a fit of laughter. “You really think that the Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands himself, Kaz Brekker will risk any of his ‘precious resources’ on me?” he chuckled. “If so, then you two are officially the dumbest people in Ketterdam. Everyone--and I mean everyone --knows Kaz Brekker wouldn’t waste a single cent on anyone who isn’t Inej, Nina, Jesper, or Wylan.”

Genya and Zoya locked eyes for a moment before both women began to smirk. It was only then that Kuwei realized exactly what he’d done. Not only had he revealed who was of value to Kaz, he’d also told his captors that he was of no value to them. That made him disposable.

“Well, you’ve been most helpful,” Genya said, moving toward the exit. She must have noticed the fear in Kuwei’s eyes because then she said “Don’t worry. We won’t kill you yet; we have to make sure your information is good first. If it isn’t… well, you might end up wishing you were dead,” she said coldly before walking out of the room, Zoya right behind her.

Kaz

After his talk with Kuwei, Kaz returned to the top floor of the Slat. When he entered his office, he was met with the sight of an athletic, pale, and freckled redhead propped on his desk, swinging her legs carelessly as she sharpened a blade. Once, the sight of anyone other than Inej in his office would have perturbed him, but that was a long time ago. Since then, he had acquired a new spy, someone whose skill and dedication rivaled that of Inej herself: Dunyasha Lazareva.

Kaz had learned of Dunyasha through Inej, as they had once fought. At the time Inej had won, and Dunyasha was presumed dead. But Dunyasha was the White Blade. She once said that her work--as well as Inej’s--was death, and it was holy. She was described as a merciless queen, carved of ivory and amber. She’d trained at Ahmrat Jen, and Inej believed the Ravkan assassin to be her shadow, sent by the Saints to deliver retribution for all the bad things she’d done. It was foolish to think that the Ravkans didn’t have some kind of backup plan or Healers at the ready in case anything happened to their precious White Blade. As it were, Dunyasha had survived the fall from the Church of Barter all those years ago, and now she worked for none other than Kaz himself.

“So, where’s he staying?” Kaz asked, referring to Kuwei, who he’d had Dunyasha follow from the rooftops. He had to keep tabs on his… assets. Dunyasha’s face twisted into a look of disappointment.

“Your boy’s a fool; he never even found a place to stay,” she replied as Kaz began to pace.

“He is not ‘my boy’ and you know it. We could use him,” Kaz scowled. “If he never found a place to stay, then why the hell are you here? You should still be tailing him.”

“He was taken.” Kaz spun on his heel to face her.

“Are you telling me you lost him?” Kaz gritted out.

“Oh, not at all,” Dunyasha replied lightly. “Who do you think I am? Your old Wraith ?”

Kaz opened his mouth to speak, but before he had the chance to say anything, Inej burst into the room, sweat on her brow and a set of lockpicks in her hand. Kaz groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with two gloved fingers. This was about to get messy.

Inej stopped short a mere two steps into the room. Her eyes were glued on the redhead perched on Kaz’s desk, who was now smirking.

“ You ,” Inej said, her voice dripping with acid.

“Yes, me,” Dunyasha replied smugly. “Problem?”

“Problem?” Inej repeated harshly. “Are you serious right now? Of course there is--” she started, only to be cut off by Kaz.

“Inej,” he said sternly, leveling her with a glare. Once Inej stopped speaking, he turned to Dunyasha. “Retrieve the boy,” he ordered. “After you have him, bring him straight to me. I have a thing or two to say to that fool,” he finished, sending Dunyasha off with a nod. Dunyasha slid off of the desk, put her newly-sharpened knife away, and made her way to the window. Just before she left, she shot Inej a gloating smirk. Then, fast as the wind and even more silent, she was gone.

Slowly, Kaz turned to Inej, who was fuming. “Her? I mean, I knew you would find a new spy, but why did it have to be her?” Inej asked coldly.

“Why does it matter?” Kaz replied.

“She is my shadow! The personification of every bad thing I’ve ever done! By choosing her, you are choosing me again. Only now, it’s a version of me without my moral code, without the same concerns as me, or any of the other things that make me who I am!” Inej explained, frustrated.

“Again,” Kaz started, “I ask you: why does it matter? I needed someone to get the job done, and she was the perfect candidate. She’s fast, quiet, and despite her loose-cannon tendencies, she knows how to follow orders. And, most importantly, she was here.” He paused, and Inej tried not to flinch at his words, even though they cut her with an edge sharper than that of her sharpest blade.

“It matters because it hurts!” Inej snapped. “I thought there was something between us, some kind of understanding, and then you had to go and replace me with someone who represents all the parts of myself that I loathe . It’s like you chose her over me, and worst of all, you aren’t even struggling with it!”

“You’re wrong,” Kaz snapped, cutting her off mid-rant. “You don’t think it was hard for me to find a new spy? You don’t think I struggled with the fact that the only suitable replacement for you was someone you told me you feared and didn’t trust? Because I did. I struggled. But years have passed, and I’ve moved on. The word doesn’t stop turning just because your life is turned upside down. I learned that when I was young, and once, you knew that too.”

“Well, maybe it should,” Inej replied softly. Kaz looked at her curiously. “Maybe, even the people who have done some terrible things-- people like us--deserve a moment where the world stops turning. A moment to choose what they want and to do their best to get it.”

“What a beautiful world that would be,” Kaz mused. “Alas, it is but a fantasy. I know you’re hurt, but I still have a gang to run, so unless you plan to be of use around here, I suggest you get the hell out.”

Inej glared at him, hiding her pain as best she could. Revealing her emotions to Kaz was a mistake, one she wasn’t going to make again. After a moment of heavy silence, Inej walked out the door, leaving Kaz alone in his office with his only his thoughts to accompany him.

#grishaverse big bang #grishabigbang #gvbb #gvbbfic #gvbbcreation

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tabletoptrinketsbyjj · 5 years

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Trinkets, Rings, 2: Enough rings and bands to wear three on every finger and toe while still having dozens to spare. Rings, especially magic rings are a very common item of jewelry in fiction and roleplaying. From a basic ring of protection, to the life saving ring of regeneration, the ring of the Nibelungs, the rings of the lantern corps, the ring of Gyges, any wedding ring ever depicted, the ring of Solomon, Sir Perceval’s ring, Aladdin’s genie housing ring, the nine rings of mortal men and the precious one ring of power, these small circular pieces of gems, metal, wood or bone always add more to the story than the sum of their parts. None of these rings are intensely magical in their own right but can serve as basis for a magical or plot relevant ring. When a DM rolls a d100, the bog standard ring of protection +1 they were going to give out now has a unique look and personality rather than just a mechanical benefit.

A platinum ring shaped to resemble intertwining grape vines, bearing a small spherical ruby as the fruit of the vine. An inscription on the interior reads: “When life fades and darkness falls, there is still the final hope.”

A ring made from sea coral that if held closely to the ear, the bearer can hear the ocean.

A gold ring set with a topaz containing the soul of a clueless wizard. The bearer of the ring can communicate with the wizard mentally at will. The spirit gives little to no insight into magical affairs and most of his knowledge of arcane matters is wildly incorrect. If the bearer builds enough of a rapport with the wizard, he will grudgingly admit that he trapped himself in the ring while trying to enchant it to become a sentient item.

An iron ring inscribed with the name of the first PC who inspects it and perfectly fits their left ring finger. It doesn't fit any of the PC's other fingers nor does it fit other creatures.

A gold ring with "Dax <3 Mariva" inscribed on the inner band. It feels normal to the touch until worn, when it becomes extremely greasy and immediately slips off the finger. This effects every creature except for creatures whose birth names are “Dax” or “Mariva” who might appreciate having the ring returned.

A rose gold ring set with a large, polished piece of ammolite. While worn, the bearer has an uncanny knack for spotting rainbows.

A slightly oversized ring that conceals a few lockpicks coiled inside its band. These discreet tools are made of a metal alloy that springs straight once the tool is removed from the band and can be easily rolled back in. Knowledgeable PC’s will notice that the ring's inner band has the emblem of a notorious thieves’ guild etched into it.

A large nickel ring with a miniature abacus built into it.

A gold ring adorned with a large bright ruby that darkens in hue as its bearer depletes their magical potential. The gem gradually turns black as the bearer's spells are exhausted or if the bearer has no ability to cast magic spells. The ruby returns to normal when removed or when worn by a creature with a full complement of magic.

A gold signet ring with a dark oval carved stone that bears the symbol of a running fox and two ravens in flight, all surrounded by nine crescent moons.

—Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

—Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A ring made from sea coral that if held closely to the ear, the bearer can hear the ocean.

An iron ring inscribed with the name of the first PC who inspects it and perfectly fits their left ring finger. It doesn't fit any of the PC's other fingers nor does it fit other creatures.

A rose gold ring set with a large, polished piece of ammolite. While worn, the bearer has an uncanny knack for spotting rainbows.

A large nickel ring with a miniature abacus built into it.

A gold signet ring with a dark oval carved stone that bears the symbol of a running fox and two ravens in flight, all surrounded by nine crescent moons.

A set of three iron rings. Upon inspection, the rings are engraved with the words "One", "Two", and "Four" respectively. Examining their magical effects by some appropriate means reveals that they: Don't appear to be doing anything special by “themselves". (Quotations important)

A wooden ring whose “gem” is actually the dried sap of an elder treant which continually glows a dim aqua.

A hollow glass ring that's always cold to the touch. Upon careful inspection, the bearer will see what appears to be a continual snowfall upon a tiny landscape inside the glass.

A heavy titanium ring shaped into the likeness of a bull’s head.

A ring composed of a simple gold band, inscribed with a complex set of blackened runes which appear to signify nothing at all.

A polished pewter ring that has the phrase "C'est inutile" inscribed on it. For some reason, you feel special when you wear it.

A brass ring engraved with the purple dragon symbol of the Obarskyr royal family.

A thin silver ring with a piece of clear quartz haphazardly attached. When worn, the bearer has the ability to find a pretty, valueless rock after a minute of searching wherever they happen to be.

A violet, stone ring that always seems to be a bit too tight on the wearer’s finger.

A wooden ring set with a stone made from a mixture of resin and water willingly given from a naiad. The water reflects the mood of the wearer, calm and still or rapidly flowing, pristine or polluted.

A pinky ring made of electrum set with a cat's claw instead of a gem.

A heavily scratched, silver ring covered in symbols for health, wellness and wholeness of body. Some of the scratches pass through the symbols, damaging their shape.

A heavy copper ring, adorned with a round, pale green stone.

A gold ring set with three rubies, that knowledgeable PC's will recognize as a looking exactly like a Ring Of Wishes. When first worn, the bearer hears a voice whisper in their head saying "You wish you had the other kind of Ring Of Wishes".

A ring that was apparently made from a small silver spoon that was bent into a circle and spot welded together.

A plain gold ring with a pattern of eyes faintly etched into the inside of the band. The bearer feels no special effect when the ring is first put on, however the next time the bearer is wakes up he feels as though he is being watched. The sensation persists until the ring is removed and the creature sleeps again at which time he will awake without the feeling.

An iron signet ring with the insignia of a skull and crossbones.

A smoked glass ring that’s invisible when worn and becomes more visible as its bearer depletes their magical potential. The ring gradually becomes visible then turns opaque as the bearer's illusion spells are exhausted or if the bearer has no ability to cast illusion spells. The ring returns to normal when removed or when worn by a creature with a full complement of magic.

A yew wood ring, engraved with images of bows and clouds, which glows slightly when its bearer nocks an arrow or prepares to throw a ranged weapon.

A polished silver ring with a large sapphire embedded on top and a small garnet on the bottom.

A silver ring, inlaid with three supernaturally dark gems.

A platinum ring set with a single large aquamarine. The jewel has a red fleur-de-lis etched into it that seems to glow with an innate fire.

A tarnished steel ring that appears plain and somewhat dull. It bears an engraving of a large circle, with a much smaller one within.

A simple brass ring etched with swirling nautical patterns.

An average sized golden ring, adorned with a beautiful flawless blue sapphire When in the presence of an angry or hostile creature, it turns cold against the bearer's finger.

A dark grey, iron ring with two gems embedded on opposite sides, one garnet and one sapphire.

A stone ring carved from the knucklebone of a primordial earth titan.

A heavy steel ring stamped with the sigil of a sword within a drop of blood. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as the symbol of the Blood Hunters, a group of fanatics so bent on destroying evil that they embrace dark, forbidden knowledge. They sacrifice some of their own vitality in otherwise forbidden blood rituals to better understand their enemies and take on their power. Their methods sometimes blur the line between themselves and the evils they hunt, calling their own humanity into question.

A copper ring etched with a repeating four-leaf-clover pattern.

A transparent ring that is indistinguishable from ice except for a small blue gem embedded in the band. The bearer's form constantly exudes an icy mist that quickly disperses.

A bone ring set with a bloodstone cut in the shape of a skull.

An amber ring sized for a pinky finger. When worn, the bearer speaks with an elven accent.

A lovingly polished silver nose ring.

An electrum signet ring that bears the mark of a well respected noble house.

A smooth platinum ring set with a pale sapphire stone cut in the shape of a cloud.

An iron signet ring that bears the symbol of a hand tightly clutching the blade of a dagger. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as the insignia of the “Uncrowned”, an underground rebel group who wish to overthrow all forms of monarchy.

An iron signet ring that bears the symbol of a raven in flight.

A steel ring fashioned into the shape of a serpent biting its own tail, which is commonly known as symbol of eternity, futility and time itself.

A heavy mithril ring, set with a square of ebony surrounded by silver. It is etched with eldritch runes, both inside and out.

A silver ring set with a glossy blue jasper.

A platinum ring adorned with a large, bright sapphire that darkens in hue as its bearer depletes their psychic potential. The gem gradually turns black as the bearer's psychic spells and abilities are exhausted or if the wearer has no ability to use psychic powers. The sapphire returns to normal when removed or when worn by a creature with a full complement of their abilities.

A polished mithril ring etched with the image of a rampaging tiger.

An ancient, bronze ring etched with an angular pattern of Dwarven design. The ring’s centerpiece features the grimacing face of an fire demon, which glows faintly with illusory flame.

A polished oaken ring comprised of two interwoven bands. Where sections of the two bands run parallel between crosses, are inscribed paired bits of arcane word-play in an elvish script.

A ring comprised of two interlocking bands, one gold engraved with a motifs of laughing faces and the other granite with a motif of dour faces set in stony silence.

A wooden ring decorated in a layer of small green pressed leaves covered in lacquer. The leaves gently glow with a barely perceivable light.

A nickel ring decorated with a the symbol of purple sword that encircles the band.

A ring of blue, translucent crystal that seems to have been grown into shape rather than cut. The perfect order and rigid structure of the crystal exudes stability and durability.

A silver ring with a translucent pearl mounted on it, that swirls with internal fire.

A bulky rocky-looking ring, made by carving a hole into the petrified eye of a dire newt.

A ring of hardened magma sized for a fire giant's finger. When the ring is donned it magically shrinks to fit that creature's finger, and warm orange light spills from minuscule cracks that form on its outer surface.

A ring whose outward layer of unmarked tarnished brass, conceals an inner band consisting of a complex swirl of pewter, onyx and iron, outlined in gold along the edges. When worn, the bearer is imparted with a paradoxical feeling of luck and hopelessness.

A ring forged from clashing black iron and shining silver.

A ring crafted of hardened leather strips, into which bits of fur, feathers, bone, and ivory have been woven.

A simple golden ring with a large red gemstone set into it that sparkles with an inner fire.

An electrum ring inlaid with arcane runes.

A ring cut from transparent crystal that reverberates when exposed to certain musical tones.

A plain ring made of hammered steel.

A gold engagement ring set with a modest diamond. The words “R & S Until Death” are etched into the inner band of the ring.

A delicate ring made of intricately marked brass.

A ring carved from the scale of some enormous reptile that is shaped to resemble a snake consuming its own tail.

A ring made from an opalescent material that is never the exact same color twice.

A pewter ring marked with a wolf skull emblem.

A short silver chain joining two crystal rings together. It's fairly obvious the rings are meant to be worn on adjacent fingers with the chain serving as additional decoration.

A silver ring shaped like a snake with an onyx in its mouth.

A silver ring, cast to resemble a pack of hunting wolves.

A golden ring in the shape of a snake that when worn, constricts on the finger making it difficult (But not impossible) to remove.

A tiny steel trident bent into the shape of a ring.

A platinum ring inlaid with a dazzling carnelian gemstone. The gemstone bears the worn emblem from a long-forgotten royal family.

A heavy silver ring stamped with the sigil of mailed fist. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize this as the symbol of the Knights of the Silver Hand, an order of paladins and holy warriors devoted to vanquishing evil and protecting the innocent.

A titanium ring stamped with a harsh, geometrical shape of Dwarvish origin.

A small lead ring set with a purple gem carved into an eye.

A ring consisting of delicate silver threads forged in a pattern of thorny brambles with a single blood-red ruby set in the center.

An ivory ring set with a black pearl.

A cheap-looking tin ring that has a small dial adorned with letters of the alphabet that can be aligned with various numbers. Knowledgeable PC's will recognize it as a decoder ring and can be used to decipher texts that were written using this specific ring or a twin of it.

A silver ring, minutely engraved with indecipherable script.

A bone ring adorned with a bright ruby in the shape of a drop of blood that darkens in hue as its bearer depletes their necromantic potential. The gem gradually turns black as the bearer's necromancy spells are exhausted or if the bearer has no ability to cast necromantic spells. The ruby returns to normal when removed or when worn by a creature with a full complement of magic.

A bronze ring that always feels cold to the touch. If worn, the bearer can hear unintelligible whispers from a distant being.

A sapphire ring that burns with elder starlight.

A signet ring with Draconic symbols. When used to seal something in wax, the symbols move in a repeating pattern.

An intricate, looping band of platinum set with beautiful obsidian inserts.

A tarnished bronze ring inset with a round magenta gemstone.

A ring crafted in the image of twin serpents with emeralds eyes, whose heads meet beneath a crown of golden flowers, one upholding them and the other devouring.

A dense, roughly crafted metal ring that seems to have a slight otherworldly pull on other metallic items, even metals that are non magnetic. Knowledgeable PC's can determine that it was forged from a fallen star and that it's proof that there is more out there than anyone can ever know for certain.

A crystal ring set with turquoise. It's not a traditional ring as it has been cunningly crafted to fit over the entire finger in black crystal in the shape of a crawling spider. When the finger is flexed, the spider's legs appear to move. The turquoise is not the more common green color, but is rather blood red and makes up the spider's eyes.

A silver ring set with a rose colored gemstone that emanates feelings of love and warmth.

A decorative silver band set with a speckled obsidian gemstone.

A small ring of white gold with glowing red engravings of dancing flames on the band.

A silver ring with a straight shank containing a red pearl. The band is etched in gold with a phrase in Celestial script, which when translated reads "I shall bear your burdens." If examined closely, there is a slight distortion around the pearl, pulling inward as if it were a tiny black hole.

A bone signet ring displaying the symbol of a large spreading tree. Knowledgeable PC’s will recognize the image as the symbol of the Yew-Lord, a powerful Arch-Fey.

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diceforanaltmode · 5 years

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Team Fire: Session 3, Egg?!; Part 3: Whirl? And: Egg?!

The adventures of Session 3 continue! TEAM FIRE Rodimus by Frosty (tiefling sorcerer) Drift by Space (earth genasi rogue) Ratchet by Hawke (firbolg cleric) Magnus | Minimus by Tuna (half-orc paladin | human/tethyrian wizard) Megatron by Briar (goliath paladin) Rewind by Robin (high elf wizard) (out for this week, but back soon) First Session | Second Session | Third Session: Part 1 | Third Session: Part 2

The party heads towards the castle. Based on the construction plans they found in Zeta’s office, they know where they will find the entrance to the secret lab in the courtyard.

When they reach the courtyard, they find Whirl, kicking around some stones. He got bored hanging out at Swerve’s and dealing with all the politics there, so he came here to find some… more stuff to kick around.

He looks up as the party shows up. “Hello, everyone, so how are you? You look awfully suspicious.”

“We do have the Scourge of Kaon in our midst.” Ratchet notes. “You’re kinda right to be suspicious.”

“Yeaaah…” Whirl says. He’s standing right in their way, arms extended. “You’re not going to keep going until you tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

Drift responds. “We’re looking for a kid.”

“We’re here for the search and rescue,” Ratchet says.

“The what?” Whirl asks.

Drift starts to explain. “Someone took a kid,”

Ratchet continues. “We’re here to get the kid out of Zeta’s super secret, secret room.”

“Son of a bitch. Okay. You want some help?” Whirl offers.

“You’re from the AVL?” Ratchet asks.

“We would appreciate it…” Magnus adds.

“Alright, let’s fuck some shit up,” Whirl says.

The party hits the stone that triggers the entrance to the lab and heads down a set of stairs to find two stone trolls, much like the one that stood in front of the entrance to the dungeon, both in front of doors. The door on the left is narrower than the one on the right. All the doors are short enough that the majority of the party - Magnus, Megatron, and Ratchet - is going to have to duck to get through (“We are a party of huge people.” -Hawke)

The party approaches the door on the left. The troll recites its riddle. “I am light as a feather, yet no human can hold me for long.”

The answer: Breath

The narrow door opens, sliding apart like supermarket sliding doors. The door is narrow enough that the whole party can’t go through at once, but looking through, the party sees a rough and rocky ledge on the other side of the door that extends a few feet. Then there is a crevice, though they cannot tell how deep it is from the door, but they can see it’s roughly 12 or 13 feet wide. On the other side of it, there is some sort of round alcove in the wall. The party can’t really tell if it’s a door or not just by looking.

Drift pokes his head inside the door to investigate, just to make sure he doesn’t plunge through the floor or anything. Everything looks fine to him.

Ratchet checks as well, and concludes the crevice may not look friendly but the door itself and the ground around it looks fine.

Drift goes to look inside the crevice. He sees the bottom, guessing it to be 20-25 ft. deep and would be an unpleasant fall but not kill someone.

Rodimus, not noticing much else, follows Drift in - of course. The others are wary to follow, but Whirl heads right in and is just sitting on the edge of the crevice, legs swinging. He does not care. It’s truly very Whirly.

“Imma chuck a rock in,” Drift says. The others are largely fine with the idea. Except

“God, yes!” Ratchet replies, before changing his mind and adding, “No, actually, lemme see if I-”

Drift cackles. “Too late, I did it!”

“Fuck!”

Said chucked rock hits the bottom in the time the party would expect it to - no infinite free fall or landing too quickly - so the crevice seems to actually be what it looks like.

“Jump in, ya cowards,” Whirl offers snidely. “Should we try to open the other door? Because I don’t have a good feeling about this…” Ratchet says.

Drift takes a closer look around and notices Everything. When Drift looks straight across the crevasse, everything looks empty save for the alcove, which has what looks more like a mock-up for an actual door than an actual door. When Drift investigates the crevasse, going so far as to stick his entire head upside down into the crevasse, he notes that there looks to be something at the bottom of the crevasse, on the wall, but he can’t tell what it is. As he’s scanning the area, he sees a patch of ground on the side we’re on that looks like it’s made of a slightly different material compared to the rest of the stone around it. Drift immediately points that out to everyone in warning.

Drift puts a rock on the floor panel that looked weird, and a set of stairs appears, going down into the crevasse. The stairs seem to be made of light, magical in some way. It’s not certain if the stairs are actually solid.

Ratchet whispers, “Put another rock on it.”

Rodimus decides to throw a rock onto the staircase. It lands on the staircase, bouncing down a few steps, but behaves like it was tossed onto a normal non-magical staircase. The staircase is real.

“If someone takes away the rock- if someone follows us and takes away the rock… then we’re fucked,” Ratchet voices to the group before amending, “Could be fucked. I don’t know if there could be another entrance.”

“Someone can just stand up here. Is there anything even down there?” Drift responds.

“Someone should go check and then someone should stay up here,” Rodimus suggests.

“What about the rogue with the good stealth?” Ratchet says, none too sneakily implying Drift should be the one to check.

“Okay, yeah, I’m going down the stairs. I guess.” Drift agrees, somewhat reluctantly.

“You look sneaky.” Ratchet is lowkey worried.

“This is true.” Drift is sneaky.

Drift goes down the stairs by himself - though Rodimus offers to go with him, Drift insists this is his job, as the rogue. As he gets to the bottom he can see the part of the wall that was made of different materials is actually a door. Kinda an odd door made entirely of a slab of black stone with a single keyhole. There is no handle. Drift decides to try and lockpick the door but gets shocked by the door, injuring him a little. It does not open, either.

Faced with this setback, Drift shrugs nonchalantly. “That happens.”

“How’s it going!?” Ratchet shouts down at the rogue.

“I think we need to find a key, this isn’t working!”

“Alright!”

“Should we go in the other door?” Megatron asks.

The party lets out a resounding “yeah” in agreement.

“On the plus side, we’ll all fit through that,” Ratchet notes.

Drift heads back up the stairs and they all head to the other door and its troll. It’s riddle is:

I am a venerable relative, whose hands do not hold and whose face cannot see, but I can always tell you when you are late. Who am I?

Answer: A Grandfather Clock

The door slides open across the entire width of the room beyond.

Everyone investigates before going into the room. Rodimus doesn't even notice that the door has opened. Magnus, Megatron, and Ratchet are able to see a 4x4 pattern of tiles with numbers on them and a small alcove. Megatron and Ratchet are able to see a spiral pattern engraved into the wall by the alcove. It's a Fibonacci spiral.

“So we need to probably go across the tiles in the Fibonacci role…” Ratchet observes.

“The what?” Rodimus asks. He has not heard of a “Fibonacci” whatever before. He does know what numbers are but doesn't know how these two things are related.

“The Fibonacci Sequence, it’s a-” Ratchet doesn't bother to finish explaining seeing the blank look on Rod’s face.

Magnus looks warily at the puzzle. “Does anyone want to test it out?”

“Nah-” Ratchet makes a bunch of noncommittal noises.

“Like, not even step on it?”

Ratchet makes more noises generally meaning no.

“So what is it tiles? Can they be pressed?” Drift pipes up.

“Like we need- we obviously need to go across it in the sequence and it would be easiest to test it…” Ratchet explains.

The tiles don't necessarily look like they could be pressed or sink down in any way, but it’s not unreasonable to assume they would react to being stepped on.

Drift points out that “I mean they're a pretty clear path from the first one to 13 and if we need to hit 21 we can do that too…”

“I don't think we need to because the sequence is like 1,1, 2, 3, 5, 13…”

“Five, eight, thirteen,” Dirt corrects.

“Five- oh, yeah it is.”

Drift laughs a bit before announcing, “I’m gonna go for it, screw it, let's not waste time.”

He steps across the tiles in the order: 1 1 2 3 5 8 13. Nothing happens and Drift is able to walk across just fine. In the alcove, there is a small key that looks like it would fit into the door.

“Mine now.”

Drift quickly gives the rest of the room a once over just to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He doesn't see anything new and crosses the tiles once more in reverse tile order. Again, nothing happens. He flashes the key and heads back to the other room

Ratchet is muttering to himself in the back as they head out. “Fibonacci spiral,” he scoffs. “How tasteless!”

“He really didn’t have any good ideas, did he?” Drift said, referring to Zeta.

“Nope!” Rod chirped back. “Not a single good idea!”

(The DM as Zeta’s Ghost is Offended)

“Classless,” Mags agreed.

Ratchet snorts and Drift cackles again.

(The DM feels Judged)

Drift reins in his laughter before saying, “Honestly, if we’re gonna build an evil citadel, I think you’d- I would do it differently.” He turns to Megatron, and in the smuggest way possible- “Wouldn’t you do it differently Megs?”

“...do I have to answer that?”

“Fair.”

“But, yes, this is very poorly designed,” Megs shrugs.

(We assure the DM we love them)

The party heads back to the other set of doors and back down the magical stairs to the door at the bottom of the crevasse. After using the key from the other room to unlock the door, Ratchet makes the suggestion that someone sturdy should enter first. Drift laughs and replies you send the rogue in first. Megatron sighs at him, of course.

Drift cautiously goes to open the door… or at least tries to. He fails, very badly. As he moves it, the door squeaks, getting a visible cringe from everybody, and alerting something quite large on the other side. And, whatever it is - it’s moving.

Our cleric is, of course, backing back up the stairs.

“Coward!” Drift laughs, again. “Well, no, he is the cleric; he needs to stay in one piece.”

“I’m squishy! And old!” Ratchet shouts back.

“I am not at my strongest right now, don’t at me!”

“Same,” Rod adds

“Cowaaaard!” Whirl screams, from his place on the ledge above the crevasse. And continues screaming.

Ratchet glares back at the rogue. “I’m literally the only one who can fix your legs.”

“Unless anyone has any better ideas, I’m opening the door,” Drift replies once more, exasperated.

The rest of the party lets out a variety of ‘yeah, just open it.’

“Weaklings and cowards!” Whirl is still shouting. “Open it!”

“The door is open!” the rogue shouts back.

“Whirl, you are not helping!” Mags snaps.

And that was true. With as much noise as Whirl was making, the beast behind the door is now fully awake.

Oh, fun.

As Drift pulls open the door, the beast behind it is revealed to be a giant snake! It lashes out at Drift, but misses as Drift dodges.

Ratchet raises his hands, mumbling to himself for a moment, and from his hands descends a flame. A flame with a holy aura. You could even say a sacred flame. The party groans at the pun, and unfortunately the snake dodges the flame.

Ratchet notices the snake doesn’t appear to be venomous, thankfully, and looks to be a constrictor. Based on size it looks female -- because these are fantasy snakes, so who needs real-world biology?

Upon realizing that the snake is a constrictor, Ratchet yells out, “Watch out, that thing’s gonna choke you!”

And all he hears is a quiet, “Great,” from Rodimus. The tiefling casts firebolt, hitting the snake and causing a fair amount of damage.

Drift draws his rapier and attacks as well, stabbing the snake and quickly ducking back to avoid another attack.

Next, the snake takes its turn to strike. It turns it’s aim towards Magnus, managing to pierce through Mag’s armor. She doesn’t look so good after that. The half-orc is wary now but chooses to attack anyway. She swings, but the hammer glances off the snake’s scales.

Megatron (being cheered on by Ratchet with a quiet, “Hit the snake, hit the snake!”) strikes the snake next, bloodying it severely.

Now it’s Ratchet’s turn again (also being cheered on, now by Drift with “Do your job, do your job!”) and casts healing words on the wounded paladin. Mags is in much better shape now.

Rod… does not even get a full bolt of flame cast out. A puny little ember putts across the air and leaves a little blister on the snake. Rest assured, everyone’s laughing. To which Rod loudly exclaims, “FUCK!”

Being the amazing partner that he is, Drift avenges Rodimus by stabbing the snake yet again. And he hits! After that he doesn’t move back again, not seeming to care about the risk of attack because of how wounded the snake is now. Ratchet is panicking in the back, and so Drift backs up a little to appease him. Drift tries to get a better look at the room beyond, but he sees is Snek.

Still in snake range, Megatron gets attacked now, but the fangs just scrape against his armor. The snake retreats.

Magnus, still wary of the snake, takes a look around the area to see there’s a door on the other side of the room the snake, and something next to the door, although she cannot make out what it is with all that snake in her way. Eager to get this over with, Magnus slams her hammer into the snake's nose. A stiff breeze could take this thing out now. But, rather than a stiff breeze, Megatron takes it out with one last blow of his great sword. The snake is now unconscious and bleeding out.

The party has solved the Snake Puzzle.

Now not having to fend for her life, Magnus points out the door on the other side of the room the snake was in. Everyone makes their way over to it not only to find the door but what looks like a cage next to it. Inside is a giant egg. A giant egg that probably belonged to the snake that was just knocked out.

Ratchet crouches down to look at it and does, in fact, conclude this is the big snake’s egg. It’s not close to hatching, but it’s well on its way.

This is when the party realizes that oh god, they just almost killed a mom. Hysteria and discussion of raising the snild (snake child) ensue.

“I think we’re obligated to adopt the snake,” Megatron says.

“Let’s steal a baby,” Rod says.

Megs nods. “Let’s steal a baby.”

Drift is silent for a moment. Contemplative even. “Why is the egg in the caaaage?”

“Because! A giant fucking snake will hatch out of it!” Ratchet exclaims. “It’s not that difficult!”

Besides the party panicking (again) over this egg, it can be guessed that Zeta was keeping the snake egg to motivate the mama snake to guard his office. Well, his secret-er office. Which happens to be in front of our heroes.

Ratchet clears his throat. No one hears him, so he throws his arms into the air and shouts, “Maybe! Before we contemplate stealing a giant snake -- Magnus, Megatron I can’t believe you’re doing this -- maybe we should investigate the fucking office, of the vampyric overlord we killed yesterday!?”

“No, yeah that does sound like a good idea, we should do that first,” Megs concludes.

“Perhaps!”

“I’m not saying- I never agreed to steal it!” Mags protests.

“It’s not really stealing! I mean, it’s not likely to survive in this particular condition anyway,” Megatron notes, gesturing to the environment around them. “It kinda needs to either be taken out and released into the wild or given to someone.”

“True.”

Ratchet looks kinda in pain because holy fuck they are looking for a child in danger.

With Ratchet’s urging, the party goes to open the door to the office... ---

Continue to Part 4!

#game recap #team fire

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esonetwork · 5 years

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Timestamp #SJA3: Eye of the Gorgon

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-sja3-eye-of-the-gorgon/

Timestamp #SJA3: Eye of the Gorgon

Sarah Jane Adventures: Eye of the Gorgon (2 episodes, s01e03, 2007)

That moment when Alan Jackson gets stoned.

At the Lavender Lawns retirement home, a group of women claims to see a mysterious ghostly nun. Clyde tells Sarah Jane and Luke about this phenomenon as they go to investigate. While Sarah Jane interviews Mrs. Randall and the staff, Luke encounters Bea Nelson-Stanley, a woman with Alzheimer’s. She gives Luke a talisman that glows green but is unable to explain what it does or why she has it. Mrs. Gribbins, one of the caregivers, watches the exchange with interest. The trio leave, unaware of a creepy nun skulking amongst the trees.

Meanwhile, at the Jackson home, Chrissie decides to move back in with her ex-husband. In short order, she’s at odds with Maria over the Smiths and being abandoned. Alan tries to talk with Maria, but she storms off to Sarah Jane’s house in anger. Alan confronts Chrissie about her effect on him and Maria.

Sarah Jane and the boys return to her house and consult Mr. Smith about hauntings. The supercomputer detects the talisman and determines that it is an alien device. Sarah Jane takes Maria with her to follow up with Bea, taking the opportunity to have a heart-to-heart.

The nun, Sister Helena, disapproves of Bea passing the talisman to Luke and takes Mrs. Gribbins to a hooded woman in a wheelchair. There’s some screaming and such. Sister Helena then traces Luke and Clyde to Bannerman Road in search of the talisman. She nearly attacks the boys but Alan stumbles by in search of Maria and offers a donation to her cause. Sister Helena leaves and the boys decide to return to Lavender Lawns. While en route, the sisters kidnap Luke and Clyde alerts Sarah Jane.

Bea tells Sarah Jane tales about Sontarans – “the silliest looking race in the galaxy” – and the Gorgon, part of adventures with her archaeologist husband Edgar. He unearthed the talisman in Syria and Bea protected it to keep the Gorgon at bay. Sarah Jane and Maria return to Bannerman Road to research the myths of Medusa and the Gorgons.

Sarah Jane tracks the nuns to St. Agnes Abbey while Clyde and Maria sneak around back. Sarah Jane is reunited with Luke and the kids as the nuns spring their trap, bringing the Gorgon before the team. The Gorgon is the last of an original group of three, and after 3,000 years, she wants to use the talisman to open a portal to her planet and return home. The boys are left at the abbey and the ladies are escorted back to Sarah Jane’s house. Sarah Jane threatens to use her sonic lipstick to destroy the talisman, but Alan arrives at the wrong time and ends up turned to stone as the nuns snatch the talisman.

The nuns retreat to the abbey as Maria lashes out at Sarah Jane in anger. Sarah Jane comforts her and offers a promise that everything will be okay. After consulting with Mr. Smith, it seems that reversal is possible but not entirely realistic. Maria returns to Lavender Lawns to talk to Bea while Sarah Jane returns to the abbey.

Meanwhile, Luke and Clyde do some research at the abbey and find a secret passage. It leads them out to the garden where they find a large collection of statues. The nuns return and start their work to open the portal, intent on allowing the Gorgon species to invade Earth. Luke and Clyde stage a distraction and steal the talisman, soon rescued by Sarah Jane before being surrounded by chanting nuns and tossed into the cellar. The nuns return for Sarah Jane with the intent of making her the new vessel for the Gorgon’s essence.

Faced with a difficult task, Maria eventually breaks through to Bea. The elderly woman was once petrified herself, but was able to survive through the power of the amulet. She offers Maria a mirror for her quest to defeat the Gorgon.

While everyone is away, Chrissie skulks around Sarah Jane’s house and mistakes Alan’s petrified form as an object of obsession over her ex-husband. After Chrissie bares her soul to the “statue,” it sheds a single tear as she walks away.

Luke fashions a lockpick from a garden spade and the boys escape from the cellar. They find Sarah Jane and the nuns as the portal opens and the Gorgon tries to transfer into Sarah Jane. Maria bursts in and uses the mirror to reflect the Gorgon back at its vessel, turning it into stone. She pulls the amulet and closes the portal, and the team rushes back to Bannerman Road to save Maria’s father.

Alan doesn’t remember the incident and Maria makes amends with both of her parents. Chrissie tries to reveal the statue to Alan, but without evidence, she has nothing to claim. Chrissie returns to her own home and bids her daughter farewell, both of them promising to look out for each other.

Maria and Sarah Jane speculate about the power of the amulet and wonder if it can save Bea from her Alzheimer’s. They return to Lavender Lawns and give it a try, but all the device can offer is a last word from Edgar: “I will always love you, Bea.” Bea smiles and thanks Sarah Jane and Maria. They pair leave Lavender Lawns with the knowledge that Bea has found peace, intent on returning home in time to watch the Viszeran Royal Fleet pass through the solar system.

After all, despite taking only a few seconds, it is the most magnificent light show this side of the galaxy.

Purely paint-by-numbers, this adventure was entertaining enough. It introduced a new enemy based on classic myths, as well as calling back to Sarah Jane’s early adventures with the Sontarans. Remember that her first adventure with the Third Doctor introduced everyone to the Sontarans, and she encountered them again in her extended first adventure with the Fourth Doctor.

Otherwise, the characters and story were straight down the middle of the road average. We get a nice bundle of references to Star Trek and 1964’s The Gorgon, but no callbacks to the Medusa-like encounter back in The Mind Robber.

Rating: 3/5 – “Reverse the polarity of the neutron flow.”

UP NEXT – Sarah Jane Adventures: Warriors of Kudlak

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

#Doctor Who #Sarah Jane Smith #The Sarah Jane Adventures #Timestamps Project

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ryouverua · 5 years

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Back to the Library

Maki’s smiles are few and far in-between but they always warm my heart <3

Also, ‘Hope Searching’ is growing on me. I know it’s a remix of ‘Despair Searching’, which, in turn, is the DRV3 jazzy version of the two investigation themes from DR1 and SDR2 but I was... maybe... quietly... hoping for a remixed version of ‘Living in a Lazy, Parallel World’. >3> I’M SORRY I KNOW I WON’T SHUT UP ABOUT HOW MUCH I LIKE THAT SONG -

HER RELUCTANT FAITH IN KOKICHI (AND HER STRONGER FAITH IN KAITO) PAID OFF AND I AM ECSTATIC -

I like that she used the term ‘worried’ here, lmao.

.............. Huh. I haven’t thought about the ‘there are no bugs’ question in a while, tbh. Ah, Gonta...

... Oh my god Kokichi took Gonta seriously. Oh my god Kokichi took Gonta seriously, despite Gonta backing down and being self-deprecating and cowed by his classmates not taking him seriously. Oh my god Kokichi respected Gonta’s expertise in his talent and didn’t actually just write him off oh my god -

HOW MANY THINGS DID HE TASK MIU TO MAKE?!

Miu is either super into pastel or super into steampunk when she designs her stuff, man. 8′D

OKAY DAMN THAT’S ACTUALLY REALLY LOUD

That.... has to be important, though. The absence of something that should be there is just as important as them catching something. Right??? And the game is clearly telling us that it’s an important clue - also, hell, the fact that Kokichi latched onto this strongly enough to commission Miu to make something alongside the hammers and the electrobombs means something!

“I spent time trusting in Kokichi’s good will and I’m trying to get back in your good graces so appreciate this and validate my efforts, damn it.” tsun

Well apparently it’s important enough to warrant a truth bullet...

AAAAAAAW

Oh god, can you imagine if part of the building collapses here before Himiko got to the room and killed Shuichi, Maki and Tsumugi? Ffff that would be so damn awful -

I JUST COMPLETELY LOST MY SHIT THAT COMEDIC TIMING WAS ON POINT -

oh fuck

LMAO WHELP

K1-B0 CAN I PLEAD FOR MERCY OR -

....... is that a no -

don’t tell me what to do, game.

LMAO WHELP HIMIKO AT LEAST WE WENT OUT TOGETHER

anyway RECORD SCRATCH, REWIND, plz don’t kill me again k1-b0 I can’t help the fact that I love fluff text -

Am I losing my mind or is this the second strong Ace Attorney: Spirit of Justice reference they’ve made???

“Also it’s stuff like this that led you to being blown up a moment ago. Please prioritize.” never

DUDE WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT LOOK YOU LITERALLY JUST GAVE US

is this what happens when you get blown up

you switch timelines and now everyone’s mad at you for no reason

??? Where did this reaction come from??? I-I feel like I’m missing something here?! Why would we get mad at you for this?

E... Every time I think I’ve come to grips with Himiko’s character, she says something that throws me for a loop...

MAKI NO -

If I’m still going with the necklace theory, maybe that’s the only one he had? I mean, it would make sense - if it’s from Monokuma, he would only make one copy of it. I was just assuming because it was part of his outfit that Rantaro would have multiple, but maybe that assumption itself is wrong - because it’s not part of his ‘official’ outfit, there’s no need for copies of it like everything else (shirt, pants, etc). He just has the one soldier tag, as his ‘perk’.

....... Or I could be completely wrong. That’s on the table too - it always is. 8′D

.... Kokichi...? He can lockpick and he did have a clear interest in Rantaro - but I feel like Maki would have come across it if so? it’s buried under all the clutter, dear god K1-b0 give us more time do you know how hard it is to go through a hoarder’s things?!

Also, also! I’m enjoying working in tandem with Shuichi. It feels like we’re both coming up with ideas independent of one another, as opposed to me being leaps ahead - his ideas are prompting my own. And honestly, that’s how it should be with our detective character!

TSUMUGI WHY ARE YOU SO EAGER I AM LITERALLY THE MOST SUSPICIOUS OF YOU

YOU SHOULD BE THE WARIEST ONE OF ALL OF US

T A N T E I I N T E N S I F I E S

M-MAKI I’D SAY YOU’RE KILLING ME HERE BUT I’D BE AFRAID OF YOU TAKING ME SERIOUSLY

we.... we LITERALLY have talked about this. TALK FIRST. SEARCH FIRST. THINK FIRST, NO KILLING.

“Maki why do we need to keep having this discussion -”

oH MY GOD TSUMUGI SCREAMED AND IT SCARED THE HELL OUT OF ME

Oh. Great.

I FEEL LIKE THAT DEFEATS THE PURPOSE OF CONTINUING THE KILLING GAME -

SWEETCHEEKS THE K1-B0 GUN -

!!!!!!!!

asd;klfj k1-b0 holy fuck

.... I... I’m not even joking when I say that I so badly, so desperately wish I could see Kokichi’s reaction to the new K1-b0. Miu’s reaction to the new K1-b0 oh god the kiiruma vibes would be real. JUST. I WANT IT SO BADLY. DAMN IT.

A K1-b0 who doesn’t even look at his enemy after taking him down, who seems infinitely more sure of himself but so much more extreme, who still does care for his classmates in an abstract sense but has become so much more cold.... I, I just can’t help but wonder. Is this the real K1-b0?

Damn, he just doesn’t care at all anymore. It’s all about direct action now. No time for play, no time to talk. I hate to see it, but it’s very... robotic of you. Of course, that might just be what we need right now...

Like??? He does care for their safety in this situation??? But he also is clearly willing to blow up the building with them in it, as clearly shown in the fact that SWEETCHEEKS WAS LITERALLY BLOWN UP FOR TAKING TOO LONG IN HIS INVESTIGATION AND K1-B0 DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO EVACUATE THEM -

wHAT IS THE TRUTH

before K1-b0

after K1-b0

like if you think both pictures are equally beautiful

I’d like to think that there’s nothing left to attack us? All the exisals are on the outside and the Monokubs, too - we also haven’t seen any copies of Monokuma lying about. lmao at it being Tsumugi being worried about going in there now btw

MAKI JUST... STRIKE BACK NON-LETHALLY, OKAY -

I-If you’re in here protecting us while we explore the hidden room, you won’t blow up the school if dawn happens to reach us first, right

because that would defeat the purpose, right

RIGHT - ?!

K1-B0 I DON’T LIKE THIS SILENCE -

also:

literally clicks on Maki, she immediately gets defensive about having the ‘no killing’ talk for the 15th time this chapter pff

I, erm, would like your definition of ‘revenge’ though. I feel like that’s important.

8′)))))

god right in the kaito

GOD EVERY TIME YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, I GET LESS SURE ABOUT MY SUSPICIONS TOWARD YOU... BUT............... uuuurughghugh

Okay, that’s fair. Just, you know. Remember. No killing. Nonlethal wounds only. Maybe stick to knives - crossbows seem a little bit ‘too soon’, considering.

Ah Kaede, if only you were here to see us now. 8′\

#Maki Harukawa #Tsumugi Shirogane #Shuichi Saihara #Himiko Yumeno #K1-b0 #Keebo #Kiibo #spoilers #drv3 spoilers #get fucked monotaro #Ryou plays drv3 #sfw #..... just in case considering my tags lmao

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disgustcdnoisc · 5 years

Text

ask meme; five times laughed

[3/5 Insufficient Skill]

@zevran-theblackshadow

Planning creative new things for each of their date had habitually been Zevran’s task, as the ingenuities of romancing came more natural to him than they did to her, but as per her reputation, she had opted to take charge for this occasion. The plan was not merely to surprise him; in hopes of sweeping him of his feet as much as he had done with her in the past, she had gone out of her comfort zone quite a bit. Silk bathrobes adorned a body that was otherwise unclothed, and she was sat upon a bed made for two. Not that she expected the sheets would remain as neat as they were then for very much longer, but the picture she had painted for them was intended to be most alluring.

Zevran was very much aware that Cassandra was not the type for lingerie, rather more for practical undergarments, and even most of the time when she was on duty, she had the habit of wearing a binding cloth to keep breast tissue flattened sufficiently against her chest, as her natural form would otherwise give her quite a bit of grief during battle. He knew of this habit as well, as she had unwound the bindings a few times for him now. Which made the anticipational glee that she had when she tucked the rolled-up, long strip of cloth into one of his pockets inconspicuously during morning training, all the more intense. Assuming that he would find it during the course of the day, she had hidden a note in the center of the neatly rolled-up package, with just three words, written in what was obviously her handwriting.

Come find me

Throughout the day, she had stolen a few looks at him, but if he had found her surprise gift, he was very skilled at hiding his thoughts and keeping his expression as neutral as it could be. When the sun had disappeared behind the walls of the stronghold, Cassandra excused herself for the day and retired to her chambers, where she’d already set up preparations for the evening she intended to spend with her Antivan. And that is where she remained until a knock came at the door. Ah, but said door was locked, as was the challenge. The Rogue had bragged about his many conquests and his dexterity, and this was her answer to his tall tales. A puzzle for him to solve, of sorts. If his fingers were really as nimble as he claimed them to be, he would have no trouble undoing a simple bedchamber lock to find her sat on the bed, dressed in little more than a smile and a thin layer of silk.

He called out to her through the door, his voice muffled, but she could clearly hear the upward intonation of a question at the end of the sentence, which in turn caused one corner of her mouth to tug up into a lopsided grin.

“Come in, if you will. The door is...well, not open. I’m sure this shouldn’t be an issue for you?”

Her question was followed by a moment of silence, then, the distinct clicking sound of tools being put to use on said lock. It started out gently, at first, most likely with confidence that he would have this lock undone and the Lady Seeker in his arms within mere seconds. After two minutes had passed, the noise became louder, more impatient, and at minute five, there was a snap of sorts, followed by a string of Antivan words uttered in a low hiss, and the sound of a palm pressed flat against the door.

Cassandra perked up on the side of the bed, pondering for a moment; she had intended to challenge him, and it had been quite amusing to listen to his attempts through a locked door, but...she was craving his company, and patience wasn’t always among her traits. After a moment of silence from her part and a defeated sigh on the other side of the door, she let herself slide off of the bed, bare feet landing on soft carpet and making their way towards the desk, where she had placed the key after locking the door. With a few clicks on her side, the door was unlocked, and she opened it ever so slightly, her levels of amusement rising to find Zevran with a set of bent and broken lockpicking tools in his hands and an apologetic look in his eyes, caught in the act and searching for words to excuse his defeat by bedchamber lock. A chuckle escaped her lips as she processed the sight before her.

“Ah, what’s this? Insufficient skill?”

Leaving the door open just enough for him to be able to peer inside her chambers, she pivoted on the front of her feet and wandered back towards the bed, the slik robes sliding off of her shoulders with every step, then, her arms lowered to accommodate it to slip further off of her body, until eventually, it formed a puddle around her feet. With one glance over her shoulder and wearing nothing but a grin at this point, she beckoned him into the room. Even if his lockpicking skill was insufficient, she was sure his self-proclaimed nimble fingers could be put to other good use.

#zevran-theblackshadow #codex: l'uomo della mia vita #five times laughed;#[I HAD TO DO THIS LOL]

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andaxay · 3 years

Text

Our Mutually Beneficial Partnership Ch.3/?

"Huh. Cameras inside the offices? Maliwan clearly trusts their employees, then."

"Hah, yeah. Actually, Zer0 mentioned something about that, overheard some things while they were gathering intel. Apparently there are a lot of unhappy people here. They're constantly watched, always under scrutiny. And there are more than a few that don't agree with Katagawa's... assertive methods of merging with, or just outright buying, other companies." Rhys narrowed his eyes as he looked around the office. "So, I'm kinda hoping maybe a few of them got sloppy. A bit careless with a document here or there..."

"Noted. Ok, you start with the desk drawers and I'll look through these filing cabinets," Fiona said, waving her hand in the direction of a handful of blue, metal cabinets. She walked to the first one and tugged at the top drawer. Locked. She huffed slightly before pulling a lockpick out of her pocket, and heard Rhys exhale a soft laugh.

"Nothing if not prepared, huh?"

When Rhys' beloved company comes under potential threat from Maliwan, he asks good friend and experienced con artist Fiona to help him infiltrate the enemy to find answers. She helps him, he helps her. Now they must work together to uncover the truth in a rather... different manner than they're accustomed to.

Chapter 3: Rhys and Fiona search Maliwan for information regarding Atlas, and have to think on their feet to avoid being detected.

Rated T, 9095 words to date, Rhys/Fiona.

Chapter 3 / start at Chapter 1

#Tales From The Borderlands #TFTBL #TFTB #Rhyiona #Rhys/Fiona #Rhys X Fiona #fake relationship #light-hearted fic #Rhys the CEO #Fiona the Con Artist #fanfic #fanfiction #man this chapter went through three full re-writes before I was happy with it #even still I'm not 100%#self doubt eh

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owlaholic68 · 6 years

Text

OC as companion: Fallout 2 - Carla

Find the FNV template here (not mine). Find blank FO2 template here (mine).

Basic info:

Name: Carla

Race: Human, mixed Mexican/Japanese

Gender: Female

Affiliation: the Wright family in New Reno

Role: Assistant at the Jungle Gym, prizefighter

Location: New Reno, Jungle Gym

Base SPECIAL: 9S 6P 3E 7C 5I 8A 3L

Tagged/Notable skills: Unarmed, Lockpick, Small Guns

Perks: Slayer, Bonus Move

Talking Head Y/N: Yes

Default Inventory: Leather armor, powerfist (requires ammo)

Carla is Stuart Little’s assistant at the Jungle Gym, and a renowned prizefighter. She is the final fight before the Masticator, and poses a significant threat because of her Unarmed damage. Beating her is necessary to gain the Prizefighter title. She has a good reaction to PC with Karma +100 and Wright Made Men, and has a bad reaction to Childkillers, Slavers, and Karma -100 (and will not join these characters).

In order to recruit her, one must defeat her in the ring or pass a relatively medium-level Speech check. She will join low-intelligence PC. If recruited but not defeated, a generic fighter will replace her slot in the “Become a Prizefighter” quest. She will join a PC despite any negative New Reno Reputation.

Initial Description: You see a tall muscular woman with two long braids. She looks tough.

Description after becoming a companion: You see Carla, prizefighter representing the Wright family. She bounces from foot to foot, anxiously looking at her surroundings and flexing her hands.

Comments and Floats:

Floats:

Fear/Defeat: Let’s not try that again.

Victory: Nothing we couldn’t handle!

Use Lockpick skill (Success)(optional): And there! Got it!

Use Lockpick skill (Failure)(optional): This nut’s too tough to crack.

Injured: Could use some help here

Relating to another companion:

(Marcus) You look like you know how to throw a punch, big guy!

(Lenny) You doing okay, Len?

(Myron) Just stay out of my way and you won’t get hurt. Battle’s no place for someone like you.

(Goris) So a deathclaw, huh? Interesting.

(Cassidy) You watch where you’re pointing that thing!

Relating to scenery/location:

(Vault City) A bunch of stuck-up assholes, if you ask me.

(Gecko) We’d better not cause trouble here, these folks seem friendly.

(New Reno)

Ah, the sweet smell of vice and drugs. Now I remembered why I only tolerated this place.

Can we stop by the Wright’s place? Keith and I need to catch up.

Maybe I should check in on Stuart, see if he wants me back in the ring.

(Chinatown) Wow, the Golden Gate Bridge looks even cooler in person. Wait, what’s parked on it?

(Hubologist bunker) *shivers* These freako cultists give me the creeps.

I don’t like this place: We’d better watch our backs here. This place gives me the creeps. Maybe we should make this visit quick.

Level up: I feel like my skills have really grown. Travelling with you is doing wonders for me!

Waiting: (humming a tune) You done yet?

Misc floats:

Nice decor.

My feet hurt. Sorry, I don’t like complaining. But seriously, I think my callouses are becoming new toes.

(PC passes a Barter check) Good. Always save money when you can.

(PC murders an innocent or steals) Whoa, what are you doing? Let’s keep this cool!

Hey, a dog! Here, boy!

Comments/Dialogue:

Standard Greeting: What’s up? What’s our next plan?

Reaction to Low Intelligence PC: I’d better watch your back, make sure no one tries to take advantage of you. You seem nice.

Crippled: *pained gasp* This is going to take more than a stimpack. We’d better find help, and quick.

After healing: Thanks. I’m ready to get back in the ring!

Put your weapon away: Good idea. Don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us.

Open inventory: Good idea. We should always know what we’re working with.

Stay close to me (CLOSE): I’ll watch your corners and you watch mine, got it?

Don’t get too far away (MEDIUM): Whatever you want. Sounds good.

We should spread out a bit (LONG): Gives me more room to maneuver.

I need you to wait here until I come back: Okay, but don’t take too long. You never know what could happen when you’re alone.

Rejoin: Just let me grab my stuff and I’ll be ready to hit the road!

Rejoin, PC doesn’t have necessary requirements (optional): Listen, you’ve changed, and I don’t think I want to be seen with you, okay?

Rejoin (over party limit): Too many people, and enemies will see us coming from miles away. How about you free up some space in your team and then come see me?

I had some other questions: Ask away. You’re full of curiosity.

Leaving/Disbanding: I can’t stand by you anymore. I’m leaving. This isn’t what I intended when I decided to come with you.

Trivia and Additional Info:

Because of her extra move points, Carla can sometimes accidentally move into other NPC (or the PC)’s line of fire, therefore risking damage. She dislikes chems, and will not use any if in her inventory. She can be asked to use her Lockpick skill, often to great success. She can also offer +5 to the Unarmed and Small Guns skill while at the Jungle Gym. This will take two hours of in-game time.

New Reno NPCs have positive reactions to her, recognizing her as a local celebrity. Wright family-associated NPCs will also have positive reactions, as she is an honorary member of their family.

She also has a unique sprite with long black hair.

Best weapons/armor:

Carla performs best with Unarmed weapons and Small Guns (pistols, etc). To optimize her efficiency in combat, she should be given the .223 pistol or the Gauss pistol. One can also get a Mega Powerfist, which she will do devastating amounts of damage with. Be aware that because of her low Luck, she will rarely land critical hits with guns. But because of her Slayer perk, she will always land critical hits with Unarmed attacks.

She does not have animation for big guns (Minigun, pulse rifle, etc) and therefore cannot use them. However, because of her high strength, she is proficient with a great array of weapons. It is not recommended that she be given grenades, as she has an awful Throwing skill and will likely end up killing everyone in your party.

She can be equipped with Power Armor, though because of her high Strength stat, this would be wasted on her. However, because of her low Endurance, some armor is STRONGLY recommended.

Ending:

After the destruction of the Oil Rig, Carla returned to Arroyo with the Chosen One, helping rebuilding efforts. However, about five years later, she decided to leave Arroyo and travel east in search of adventure. The Chosen One would occasionally receive letters from her, telling of exploits and challenges, and would always consider her to be a close friend.

#fallout #fallout 2 #fo2 #oc as companions #oc development #chosen one carla

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gguksgalaxy · 7 years

Text

Chased pt. 3

Chased – Engraved <– Engraved 20 | <- Departed 1 | Engraved 21 –> <– Chased 2 | Chased 4 –>

Short: Unlucky in love, Kim Jongdae finds himself wanted by a problem seeking journalist. What could not go wrong? Words: 3409 Type: Fluff/Smut/Angst Pairing: Chen x Sora (oc) Notes for Update: 25 Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, mean guys at the bar, hints at cheating and betrayal A/N: This will run chronologically with Engraved, but it’s not needed to read this to understand Engraved, but the parts posted for Engraved after this will contain spoilers. It is also not necessary to read Engraved to understand what is happening here. But it will make things more clear.

Jongdae's pov

Jongdae was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was dark, late at night, and he wasn’t tired at all. It was slightly cold in his room, and he got up to find some shirt to wear to bed. He scratched the back of his head, blinking a few times when he turned on the light. The first thing he found was his dark read sweater, hanging on his bedpost. He took it, rubbing the material between his hands. It was soft still, especially on the inside. He sighed, pressing the sweater against his face and inhaling. It still smelled like her. He went for the shirt, that was hanging underneath, that’d do. So he slipped back under the covers, turning on his stomach and scrolling on his phone. Nothing much was going on really, Baekhyun and Chanyeol were having some discussion in their group chat. It had something to do with guns and sheep, he didn’t feel like getting involved. He had a information text coming from Suho, for a job tomorrow. And a text from Angel, asking him if he wanted to go out soon.

Angel: Hey, how about we go out sometime soon? You: Hmm I’ll have to think on that.

Her reply came really quick.

Angel: YAH! Don’t be a dick. You: Well… Angel: I’ll ask Baekhyun, never mind…what a friend. You: hahahah, of course I’ll come. Where do you want to go? Angel: Not sure, Rana’s maybe, or Aphrodite’s. You: Aphrodite’s has cheaper drinks. Angel: Since when are you cheap? You: If you pay we’ll go to Rana’s. Angel: Fine, Aphro’s it is. When you off? You: In three days, I’ll fix a driver, pick you up around 11? Angel: See you then ;) You: Till then lil Ang.

He locked his phone, maybe he should sleep. Going out with Angel was always fun, it has been a long time since they went. Right as he closed his eyes to go to sleep, his phone rang. He grunted, rubbing his eyes and turning it over, checking the number. Sora was calling, what the hell. She never called him before, and they barely even chatted lately. He turned on his back and picked up. “It’s 2am, why are you calling me.” “You’re mean.” She…slurred? “Are you drunk?” he asked, sitting up, confused. “Hmmmm, no.” She mumbled, but he heard the chatter of people in the back, a low chime of music. “I wanted to talk to you.” He sighed, letting himself fall back on the bed. “About what?” She chuckled, like a little girl, definitely drunk. “You’re an asshole.” “I’m sorry?” This was a little amusing to be honest. “You’re an asshole.” She slurred. “You talk to me, you flirt with me, you give me your number. You’re really nice, and handsome, and then you go out with me. You kiss me, twice, like you fucking mean it. You throw up in my bathroom, cry in my hallway, have me drive you home. However, now you’re pretending like I don’t exist. Well after I confessed to you that I really like you.” He could practically hear the pout in her voice. “You’re mean.” Jongdae sighed yet again, but also smiled a little. “Sora, what do you want?” “I want you to give me a shot.” “We talked about this, I’m not looking for anything right now.” But he remembered the feeling of her against him, how soft her skin was, the way she kissed. Those little sounds she made. “I’m serious.” She was silent, and he heard some odd noises and then a voice. He couldn’t properly understand what was being said, but it was a male voice. Sora seemed to be in a conversation with him, she laughed. Jongdae considered putting the phone down after a more minutes, but her voice sounded again. “Hmmm, why don’t you come over.” “You seemed pretty busy with that other guy.” Jongdae mused. She whined a bit. “He’s not you though, I want you here.” He rolled his eyes, god she was really something. “Go have fun with him, I don’t care.” He really didn’t care, to be honest. “Why? I don’t want him.” “Then don’t go with him?” “Hmm but I’m lonely.” Jongdae groaned out loud, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Sora I’m not coming over, really.” “Fine.” She huffed. “I’ll go home with that guy, it’s not like I can get myself home anymore anyways.” He heard some movement, and then she yelped. “Damn alcohol, I can barely walk.” Something in him got worried about her. “Sora?” “What?” “That guy, do you know him?” She paused. “No?” Jongdae chewed the inside of his cheek. “If you don’t know him, please don’t go home with him. You never know what kind of creep he is. Aren’t there any friends with you right now?” “No, I came here alone, I always do.” He really wasn’t interested, he just didn’t want her to get into trouble with some random guy. “Is there anybody you know who can take you home?” “You never have sex with random people when you’re drunk?” “What I do doesn’t matter.” “Whatever Jongdae,” her voice broke off a bit, and he heard her giggle. “I’ll talk to you some other time.” She had the nerve to hang up the phone on him. What was she thinking? Was she really going to go home with a stranger so drunk off her ass she could barely walk on her own? Jongdae chewed his lip, for a second considering if he should go to check on her. That one second was enough, because he found himself getting dressed, and picking up the car in the garage to leave. But then again…the gates don’t just open. “Fuck this shit.” He grumbled, and got out of the car. In the pocket of his leather jacket was a set of lockpicks, and he used them to unlock the gate from the outside. It was a bit of a hassle, and it took longer than he thought. There was one key lock, on the inside, but they’d destroyed the keys for safety reasons. Luckily Jongdae was an expert at this, and the gate screeched when it opened. He got back into the car, and just hoped he didn’t set of the alarms inside. The drive was short, and he’d lie if he said that he didn’t speed a little trying to get there. For all he knew she was already gone with this guy. There was a parking spot, not far from the Dutch cafe, and he nearly would’ve run into another car if he hadn’t slowed down. Why was he rushing, she’s 21, she can handle her own stuff. He got out, light snow starting to fall again. It had only cleared two days ago hadn’t it? This snow probably wouldn’t stay, he thought as he got inside. It was warm, and he shrugged off his jacket, searching the crowd for the familiar colour of red hair. He felt a sense of relief as he saw her on the other side of the centre bar, swirling a drink that looked like whiskey inside a glass. Jongdae took a deep breath and stepped over, she barely even noticed him until he reached for her glass, and emptied it inside the sink behind the bar. “You’ve had enough.” “Hey!” she yelled, looking at her now empty glass. “I paid for that you know.” “I know, come on.” He circled his hand around her upper arm and pulled her off the stool. “I’m taking you home.” “Oh, now you want to be with me?” she grumbled, her voice was so double that he could barely understand what she was saying. He shook his head, hanging his jacket over her shoulders. “I’m taking you home and that’s it.” Then, a hand landed on his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing mate?” Jongdae turned around to find a tall guy standing behind him, probably twice as broad. “I’m taking my friend here home.” “I don’t think so. She’s coming home with me, we already agreed on that, right sweetheart?” he looked past Jongdae at Sora, who suddenly gripped Jongdae’s wrist tightly. Jongdae squared himself. “Listen, she’s drunk, she should go home to her own place. I’ll take her, if you don’t mind.” The other guy wasn’t having it, and he reached out for Sora behind Jongdae. The latter was faster though, gripping the guy’s hand and pushing it away. “Listen man, she’s my girl, and she’s coming home with me. She’s been flirting with me all night, don’t ruin my evening. She seemed very eager earlier when we ki-“ Jongdae didn’t know why, but he punched the guy square in the jaw. “She’s drunk, you shouldn’t take advantage of her you ass.” He turned to Sora, who was starting at him with big eyes. “Let’s go home.” She nodded, yawning and following him clumsily. He managed to get her outside and asked; “Where’s your car.” She pointed towards the corner of the street. “Give me your keys.” He held his hand out to her, and she dug into the pocket of her jeans clumsily, pulling out a big ring with keys on it. None of them a car key. “Damn it Sora.” He took her arm and pushed it away a little, letting his fingers slip into her pocket and fish out the key. Hey jeans were tight, and she squirmed a little. He dragged her to the car, hoping she would fall, and helped her inside. He turned up the heat once they got driving.“Are you stupid?” “Huh?” she mumbled. “Don’t get drunk on your own, looking like that, at a bar. You’re going to attract guys with the wrong intention and you’re going to end up hurt.” He gestured at her, finally having caught eye of the way too low cut top she was wearing. It was loose and hung on her shoulders, exposing little freckles and…he should keep his eyes on the road. She didn’t really answer him, but he felt her look at him. Her hair was down, falling in perfect dark orange waves, framing her face. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Stop staring.” “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it, now please stop staring at me.” He stated, taking the turn onto her street, driving into the parking lot underneath her building. Jongdae put the car on the spot that was the same as her home number, she didn’t complain, but she was probably too drunk to do so. When he turned the engine off he found her asleep with her head against the window. Great. He got out and moved to her side, opening the door and shaking her shoulder. “Sora, wake up we’re home.” She didn’t move really. “Sora!” Her eyes sprung open. “Huh?” Jongdae took her arm again. “Come on, get out, I’m taking you to your room and that’s it.” “Roommate isn’t home.” She mumbled. He mentally cursed himself. “Of course she isn’t. Let’s go.” He pulled at her arm, and she stumbled out of the car almost falling if he hadn’t caught her. She heavily leant on him and mumbled some drunken words. “For fucks sake.” He grunts as he lifts her up into his arms and carries her to the elevator. She isn’t heavy, but she’s quite tall and it makes her a bit harder to carry this way. Jongdae notices her nod off a bit, and he sighs. She looks calm and peaceful, her head resting on his shoulder. Even in the poor lighting the small freckles on her neckline were visible against her pale skin. He wondered if she got them from her mother or her father. From her soft features, the colour of her hair, but the distinct sharpness of her eyes she knew she had mixed backgrounds. She was gorgeous. He reached her door and tried to shake her awake, because she had the keys in her lap. “Oh fuck this.” He manoeuvred his hand into her lap and managed to get the keys. Then, he set her down to her feet, and hoisted her back up, over his shoulder. “You’re glad you’re out cold.” Jongdae mumbled to himself, as he used one arm to hold her, and used his other hand to unlock her front door. He swayed a bit once inside, as she woke up and started moving. “If you move I will drop you.” He stated angrily. To his surprise she stayed still until he found what seemed to be her bedroom, and he deposited her on the bed. She bounced off a little and looked up at him from her position, pouting. “You’re still mean you know.” “I just drove you home! In your car! And CARRIED you to your bedroom!” he spat, getting upset. She pushed herself up a little, rubbing her eyes and smudging her makeup. “But you won’t stay, you’re just going to leave.” Jongdae sighed, angrily so. “Sora, listen, you and me, is not going to work out.” Sora was silent then, staring up at him with big eyes. “You haven’t said that before.” “What?” “That we wouldn’t work out, you always said you weren’t looking for anything.” She was drunk, why was she rationalising all of a sudden. “Sora you’re drunk, go to bed.” He made way towards the door, but he voice stopped him. “Please stay.” She whispered, voice sounding so small. He willed himself not to turn around but he did so anyways. The way she sat there, on the bed, hair messy and shirt falling off her shoulder to reveal smooth, smooth skin. It did something to him. “Sora.” She pouted. “Just tonight, just once. Last time when you were here, I remember kissing you. You were warm.” He watched the pleading look in her eyes, not knowing what to say. “I’m cold.” Something about the way she looked then made him think she had gone out drinking for more reasons than missing him. “Sora?” “Yeah.” She said, standing up and almost stumbling, finding purchase on her desk. “Why were you out today?” She pulled clothes from the chair, and walked over to him. “None of your business.” Her eyes were cast down as she put a hand on her waist to push him aside. He let her pass, watching as she shuffled into the bathroom. “I’m going to get changed, please leave if you don’t want to stay.” Jongdae moved into her room, looking around. There were books lining the wall, a laptop on her desk. It was quite clean, apart from a few clothes here and there, and an empty plate and mug on the desk. There were light colours, blue and grey mixed with a dark brown, it looked nice. He sat down on her bed, it was soft. His jacket was discarded on the bedspread and he took it, placing it over the chair. It was late and he was getting tired and…she seemed upset and something must’ve been bothering her. Last time he was upset she was there for him, so the least he could do was return the favour right? He waited for her, checking his phone and seeing it was 4am right now. She returned quite quickly, her hair put up in a high bun, eyes surprised as she saw him still there. He stared at her, her legs were long, unmarred skin under her shorts. She wore a sweater too, something that looked soft and comfortable. “You stayed?” she mumbled. He nodded, standing up. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” Jongdae moved past her and she took his wrist in both hands. “Please stay here, with me.” Her hands were cold against his skin. “I don’t want to be alone.” Jongdae reached out for her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “This is only going to make you hope for more. I meant what I said.” “Let me regret it in the morning, for now just…stay.” Jongdae nodded again, toeing off his shoes and pulling his sweater over his head. He followed her into the bed, slipping under the sheets next to her. She held him close, her head resting on his shoulder, arm slung over his stomach. Jongdae was slightly uncomfortable at first, but relaxed after a little. He let his fingers run through her hair, hoping she’d feel a little better. Her breath smelled like a mix of alcohol and toothpaste and he scrunched up his nose. “Go to sleep Sora.” He whispered, pressing his nose against her hair, liking the smell of her shampoo. She let out a soft moan, and shifted closer, her breath fanning out over his throat. “Thank you.” He felt her doze off in his arms, warm and content.

***

Sora's pov

Sora woke up when she felt him move away from the bed, he must need to go to the bathroom or something. She rolled over when he was gone, getting closer under the covers and pressed her face against the pillow where it smelled like him. It was already cold there without him. There wasn’t much more sound after that, but then, the sound of the door. Was he leaving? She opened her eyes and groaned, feeling her head pounding. The water from the water bottle by her bedside soothed her throat, but by the time she got herself up from the bed he was already gone. She looked into the hallway but didn’t see him. There was a soft rumbling sound outside, and she moved towards the living room, drawing the curtains. Outside was someone on a motorcycle, a bit of an old fashioned one. The driver pulled off their helmet, and dark purple hair tumbled down over her back. The girl, had tattoo’s on her hands, and multiple piercings in her face. But Sora saw she was attractive. Her body was lean but short, but on that bike it didn’t matter. The door downstairs opened and someone came out. Jongdae. He moved towards the girl, who had hung her helmet on the handlebar. She reached out for him, touching his face and leaning in close to wrap him into a hug. The girl held him close, and he returned the affection, leaning his head on her shoulder. Was this Angel? The best friend? They seemed awfully close, from the way she touched his face, and even kissed his cheek. Sora felt a pang in her chest, and chewed her lip at the sight. They were talking, and the girl was holding his hand. She couldn’t properly see Jongdae’s face but the girl seemed concerned. The girl reached behind her, giving him a helmet. Before he got on she reached out for him again, brushing his hair away from his face and tipping his chin to look at her. Sora saw his face clearly now, and the way he looked at her spoke a thousand words. Sora turned away, letting the curtains close. Tears were in the corners of her eyes. Had he really lied to her? Was he in love with this Angel girl after all? Sora shook her head, and moved groggily back into the bedroom. She wouldn’t cry for a guy like that, she promised herself she’d never. It was her own stupid mistake to ask him to stay when she was drunk. Why’d she done that. Now all she remembered as she entered her room was his arms around her and the warm, firm feeling of his chest. And right there, on her chair, was something black. His sweater.

A/N: some tension some tension, what's going on here? Is Sora right or?

@oh-beyond @xingtrash @nunchiwrites @yeollieollie @xiubaek13 @melyyexo @paark-haaraa @an-army-exol @littlekatlizzy

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