#pari in code vein

[the-expatriate]

((CODE VEIN PARI MY BELOATHED))

#out of the blue: ooc post #pari in code vein #its free this month on psn

[alltheshadesofgray]

Numb Little Bug Prologue

Masterlist

DAMIAN AL GHUL HAD been taught from day one positive emotions would be his doom. Well, that, and the several ways to kill or cause severe bodily harm to someone. He knew torture methods and the best way to blackmail someone. He knew he was the heir to the greatest guild of assassins. 

His world turned upside down when he was ten. That was when Deathstroke and his band of traitors attacked the League, forcing his mother to flee with him in tow. Shove him under the care of a father who had no idea he existed. The only thing Damian knew was how to attack, how to make sure he was safe. He didn't know how to care. He didn't know how to love, like his elder adopted brother, Dick, loved unconditionally. 

You cannot let your emotions control you, Damian. His mother had told him one time, while he was sparring with another child of the League. This person's only use is to die for you. You cannot feel anything. 

Damian had learned everything from a to z. Except the art of caring. The League of Shadows had no room for emotions. The League certainly didn't need sentimental and emotional messes. Damian supposed that was why his mother had drugged his father in order to conceive him. 

Talia al Ghul was his mother in biological terms only. Damian al Ghul didn't grow up expecting love, nor did he give it so easily. And neither did Talia. It didn't really matter, because Damian wasn't an expert in love. He didn't need his mother's love to survive. And if Talia in any way wanted Damian to love her like typical mother and sons do, she had no-one to blame but herself. 

Bruce Wayne was his father, but with vastly different backgrounds, Damian and Bruce didn't connect easily. The same could be said for any of his adopted siblings. Though they'd all been through traumatic stuff, nearly none of them understood growing up and being raised by assasins. Except for Cass, who could understand his past better than the rest of his family. 

Damian al Ghul was not Damian Wayne. Though yes, Damian Wayne had the same chararistics, physical features, and overall knowledge, Damian Wayne had one thing Damian al Ghul never had. A family. Though dysfunctional and chaotic, the Waynes were a family nontheless. Damian al Ghul was cold, heartless and ruthless. But Damian Wayne had a chance to live.

 MANON CHAMACK HAD GROWN up knowing that negative emotions would get her killed. From the age six, Manon had grown up with the reality of Hawk Moth and Akumas being completely normal. That was absolute hell. But if she allowed herself to feel angry or annoyed, then she would have no control over what would happen next. She wasn't powerful enough to resist Hawk Moth. Nobody was. Eventually they all succumbed to the power and the promising words, the lies, of Hawk Moth. 

Manon was suffocating. Drowning. She tried to scream but nobody could hear her. Her terror was flooding through her veins. Get me out of here, she thought. Syren laughed maniacally, and Manon was dragged into darkness. 

Most of Paris were able to trauma block Akuma attacks. But Manon? Manon couldn't ever unsee what she did. She could recall any of her deaths perfectly. She could recall the deaths of her friends, when August had jumped in front of a strike aimed at her, when Ella and Etta were too a moment too slow, when Chris had been torn apart, blood spraying on her. 

Manon lived by a code. 1) Do not feel, 2) Should rule one fail, then everyone is fucked.

It was as simple as that. 

But it wasn't. Because humanity did not function without emotion. With Hawk Moth taking away Paris' fundamental link to humanity, it was impossible to survive or thrive. Paris's humanity relied on two teenagers to save them, teenagers who'd been thrust into the position without any forewarning or preperation. Not to say that Ladybug and Chat Noir didn't do a kickass job, but they just weren't meant to fight an emotional terrorist. 

Manon lost any ability to feel during the reign of Hawk Moth, and even after Hawk Moth, some days she just wanted to stay in bed and never get out. Manon Chamack never had any chance to live, but she was a survivor. She fought, and she stood strong at the end. 

But truly living was a foreign idea to her. What did it even mean? How could she live when she was vitally broken? 

~~~~

bruce thomas wayne

son of the late martha and thomas

and

marinette dupain-cheng

daughter of tom dupain and sabine cheng

request the honor of your presence at their wedding

the wedding and reception will be located at wayne manor

this is a black tie event

#maribat #damian wayne x manon chamack #damian wayne #manon chamack #trauma and shit #brucinette #social media #dc x miraculous #dc characters #mlb characters #sequel to talk

[starswallowingsea]

conjure up everything you have cause I want to know if you have any book recommendations (any genre will do)

BOY DO I. I ended up going off on all of these but know that I love all of these books deeply.

So first off I have to mention Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein. I read this book for the first time when I was 16 and it changed who I am as a person. Also I picked two of my names from this book. It starts off as a kind of journal/diary/confession of our main character (Queenie) about her time in a Nazi prison in France after being caught while trying to infiltrate the country. They tell her to tell them everything she knows about the Allied war effort, specifically looking at aerial assaults, which gives Queenie an excuse to talk about how she met her best friend. The buys her time for a while, as she does sprinkle in what looks like useful information into her narrative but eventually her time runs out. Make no mistake, this book is a tragedy and will tear your heart out in more ways than one. It's very slow going but I promise it'll be worth it if you can get into it.

In the same vein, I also recently finished the Paris Orphan by Natasha Lester. This book follows a model turned journalist named Jessica May (based on the actual photographer Lee Miller) as she deals with sexism and misogyny during the war effort in trying to do what she wants to do, which is reporting on the war front. Jess meets a soldier named Dan who she instantly connects with while trying not to die in a trench because the field hospital she was supposed to be stationed at turned out to be under fire, and he introduces her to a child he has been looking after since his brother was killed (it's not his brother's child, she's the child of two French citizens who were trying to flee the country and couldn't take a child with them, but she takes to Jess and Dan as her parental figures very quickly). This one is also a bit heavier and includes suicide and rape, but it is still very very good.

Next I'll jump briefly to non-fiction and recommend the book T. Rex and the Crater of Doom by Walter Alvarez. It's written by one of the lead scientists trying to figure out what killed the dinosaurs 65 million years ago. While it is about geology and physics, it's not too dense and written in a way most people will understand what's going on, and explanations are provided for anything that wouldn't be comprehensible to the average lay person. Absolutely fascinating read.

Then we have an Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir. I found this one on youtube and it sounded interesting and boy was it. It's a fantasy novel set in the Middle East/Western Asia and incorporates the culture into the story very well. It follows two main characters, the son of the overbearing military leader who just wants to run away and live a quiet life and the daughter of two scholars who wants to see her people free to live their lives without fear of being enslaved. Laia, the scholar girl, watches her only remaining family killed and imprisoned before her very eyes, barely managing to escape herself and looks for help in the resistance. Elias, the military leader's son, is planning on running away to the South before he is nominated to take part in a series of trials to become the next Emperor and decides to stay. While I wasn't the biggest fan of the romance in this book, it's not overbearing. Content warnings for violence, death, rape, and slavery for this one.

And finally, Cain by Jose Saramago. This one was recommended to me by one of my professors last semester and it's a relatively quick read at like 160 pages. It's a bible retelling focusing on Cain, where he is cursed by God to wander the world for the rest of his days. He finds himself traveling through time (or in the words of the book, different presents) and interrupting different bible stories to spite God. The writing style takes a little bit to get used to as it's just very long sentences with dialogue only indicated by the usage of capital letters starting new dialogue tags, but it doesn't take very long to get used to it. As for content warnings, if you'd find it in the bible you'll find it here (death, rape, incest mentions).

#five books but i wrote way too much about all of them ajdsofpiads #message in a bottle #zodiacs labyrinth #code name verity #the paris orphan #t rex and the crater of doom #an ember in the ashes #cain #bookblr #book recommendations

[darlingbandit]

I’ve been trying to find Arch of Triumph for years, and last night I finally discovered that it was available on Plex. And now I wish I’d seen it much sooner; it was that good. Like a gritty Casablanca, it possesses a raw nerve you’re more likely to find in Italian neorealism than in most Hollywood movies (although it does delve into melodrama at the end.) In that same vein, it’s visually pretty stark (parts of it were filmed in Paris only a few years after WWII) and is somehow able to get away with mature subjects that usually would have been toned down by the Hays Code.

Ingrid Bergman is amazing as always (it’s an underrated performance from one of the greatest film actresses ever), but I was quite frankly amazed by Charles Boyer. I’ve always liked Boyer, but I really think this was his best performance (or at least on a par with Gaslight, a very different role.) Sometimes, with a small physical gesture, an actor can absolutely break your heart. I didn’t think the suave, collected Boyer (Hollywood’s resident Frenchman) would ever accomplish that, but he does in this movie.

(I almost forgot to mention that Charles Laughton plays a Nazi officer in this movie—he only has a few scenes, but they’re all showcases for his undeniable talent. His first conversation with Boyer is amazing)

The print I watched was admittedly not good (that’s probably why it was streaming for free.) this movie really needs the Criterion treatment—clean it up a little, maybe include extra scenes from the 4-hour rough cut—and a larger audience (it bombed when it was released in 1948.) Hear that, Criterion? Make it so.

#Arch of Triumph #Ingrid Bergman #Charles Boyer #Criterion #classic movies #movies #classics

[gametrends23]

Steelrising - A Unique Take on the Souls Like Video Games

From the sci-fi-themed Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order to anime-inspired games like Code Vein, the souls-like world has grown enormously and includes a vast index of little games of varying aesthetics and styles that you can get into. Steelrising, created by Spiders, is a brand new entry via the soul-like entire world that provides a good setting and aesthetic towards the genre of "tough as nails," with a setting reminiscent of a revolutionary France controlled by nightmarish clockwork automatons. The name of the game is Aegis, a new work of genius by King Louis XIV's clockwork Automat forces, who are entrusted to Queen Marie Antoinette as her bodyguard and the faithful servant as she and her maid are swiftly taken by Saint Cloud after a violent protest in Paris, France. She has no choice but to trust you after being taken away from family members by her spouse, who has an army of automated soldiers between herself and flaming and burning Paris. By command from the Queen, Aegis is sent to France to get a hold of the maker of the rulers' mechanized creatures and bring this chaos to an end.

Story

In a fictional scenario that takes place in 18th-century France, people take on the role of Aegis, an intelligent automaton created to take on other machines in the city that is under siege and beyond. Amid a civil war fueled by religious and political conflicts, Aegis is truthfully dispatched by the Queen of France to find critical names that, if rescued and brought alongside, could change the course of the kingdom. Sadly, the towns and countryside are infested with killer machines that attack and slaughter anything that is in their path. The role of the story plays a significant part in Steelrising, but although it's great to get a clear narrative to check out instead of being dependent on flavor text and cryptic cinematics, the plot seriously isn't exactly exciting. It's an animated game, with the action punctuated by a lot of cinematics, dialogue, and cutscenes that help tell the story, but it can get a little boring. It's not surprising that almost every hero aside from Aegis is a middle-aged guy with a wig made of powder. All with similar vocalizations and French names that are difficult to remember.

Combat

Combat is an essential part of Steelrising, and this is the area in which the game shines. Aegis can equip two weapons at the same time and switch them with the click of a button. The overall game offers more than 40 arm adaptations that appeal to different styles of play, like swift claws with counterattack abilities, rifles that could inflict status effects, and followers that double as shields. Most of the firearms retain exceptional strikes, which are linked to ammo. that they are rapidly depleted by use and slowly reload throughout the fight, making them unable to generally be spammed. Aegis is amazingly easy-moving and can sprint into the fight and get out at the expense of energy. Steelrising includes great physics in case Aegis has run out of stamina, which allows the player to recover a bit of energy by executing a precise button media at the cost of suffering frost damage. Aegis can have her numbers improve; however, there are "modules," which are discovered throughout the game, that grant passive buffs and capabilities. All of these options create a fast-paced combat system with plenty of options to tailor your gameplay without feeling overwhelming. Great prices for New PS4 games.

Visuals

In terms of visuals, I'd like to say this is effortlessly Spiders' best-looking play at this point, and in addition, it's the most diverse in psychological taste. Great prices for PS5 adventure games. Each of the eight areas is flawlessly tailored, truly leaning into the From Software Design philosophy of making levels that loop back and forth on themselves independently in a manner that seriously makes them feel like believable zones. Although eight locations may seem like a small amount, be assured that these are sprawling, gothic play areas that mature for exploration, especially as you unlock the various gadgets, such as the grappling hook, that make returning to areas you've explored previously for more treasures an absolute pleasure.

Game-play

Steelrising is a Souls-like action game in which the world is divided into different amounts. It only features one fast transport spot per quality, but this is alleviated because Aegis constantly unlocks shortcuts to every platform. Additionally, there are Metroidvania features that are present in Steelrising in that Aegis unlocks various traversal upgrades that include a grappling bait, an air sprint, and a battering ram. It also helps in exploring the various stages, especially anytime it comes to completing side quests. These devices can be programmed to open up new paths and locate mysteries whenever one returns to previous stages, which means that going back is rarely boring. The game features Dark Souls bonfire equivalents in the form of Vestals and Vestals, which can also serve as stores, as well as an opportunity for players to boost Aegis's stats and also upgrade her gadgets.

Button line

Above all, though, Steelrising is truly an engaging, thrilling, and soul-like journey fixed in a place that's enjoyable for you to discover at your rate and in your way. Like Greedfall, it demonstrates just how much Spiders has evolved as a developer. There are a few hiccups, but Aegis' Parisian adventure is without a doubt Spider's best video game companion.

#steelrising #action role-playing

[byneddiedingo]

Walter Huston in Dodsworth (William Wyler, 1936) Cast: Walter Huston, Ruth Chatterton, Mary Astor, Paul Lukas, David Niven, Gregory Gaye, Maria Ouspenskaya, Spring Byington, Harlan Briggs, Odette Myrtil, Kathryn Marlowe, John Payne. Screenplay: Sidney Howard, based on his play adapted from a novel by Sinclair Lewis. Cinematography: Rudolph Maté. Art direction: Richard Day. Music: Alfred Newman.  I have a feeling that Dodsworth is not quite as well known as it ought to be. It's one of the few Hollywood dramas of the 1930s that seem to have been made for grownups, avoiding melodrama and sentimentality in its treatment of marriage and growing old, and sidestepping the Production Code's infantilizing attitudes toward adultery and divorce. And most of all, it has a wonderful performance by Walter Huston, who was nominated for an Oscar but lost, rather shamefully, to Paul Muni's hammy turn in The Story of Louis Pasteur (William Dieterle, 1936). Huston's Sam Dodsworth is a captain of industry, founder of an automobile company, who decides to sell the business and spend the rest of his life figuring out what to do with himself. His wife, Fran (Ruth Chatterton), knows exactly what she wants to do: Sail to Europe and flirt with all those interesting men who can't be found in the Midwestern city of Zenith -- which was also the setting for Sinclair Lewis's novel Babbitt, whose title character became a byword for Midwestern fatuousness. Fran is a few years younger than Sam -- Chatterton was 44, Huston 53 -- and unwilling to grow old gracefully, claiming to be 35 and unwilling to reveal that she has just become a grandmother. Opportunity presents itself immediately on shipboard in the form of a British military officer (David Niven), but after flirting shamelessly with him, Fran takes fright when they reach England and he wants to take their relationship another step. But when the Dodsworths move on to Paris, Fran becomes bolder and after Sam, bored with life in Europe, returns alone to the United States for a visit with their daughter and her husband, she begins an affair with a suave European (Paul Lukas). Getting wind of the affair, Sam returns to Paris and confronts Fran, who breaks it off. But their efforts to patch things up fail and Fran asks him for a divorce. In Vienna she finds another suitor, a younger, rather effete aristocrat named Kurt Von Obersdorf (Gregory Gaye), and is ready to marry him once the divorce goes through. Meanwhile, Sam travels on his own and in Naples is reunited with Edith Cortright (Mary Astor), a divorcee he had met earlier. Sam moves in with Edith in the villa she is renting, but their happiness is interrupted by Fran's misery: Kurt's mother, the baroness (Maria Ouspenskaya), forbids their marriage on the grounds that Fran is not only divorced but also too old to provide an heir for the family line. A distraught Fran, facing up to failure, urges Sam to return to America with her, presenting him with the dilemma of continuing a marriage that has proved hopeless or exploring the new vistas that have opened for him. Lewis's novel is more in the satirical vein of Babbitt than Sidney Howard's screenplay, based on his Broadway play, which also starred Huston. It evokes Henry James's stories about American encounters with Europeans. William Wyler, with his smooth, unobtrusive professionalism, is the perfect director for the film, which was made under the aegis of producer Samuel Goldwyn, who aimed for polish and prestige and for once achieved it. Lewis's novel was published in 1929, but by the time Dodsworth was filmed, Nazism was on the rise in Germany and fascism had taken hold in Italy, so Sam and Edith's dream of traveling the world together feels more than a little naive in the context of the period. The only reference to the rumblings of war perceptible in the film comes in Sam's comment that he prefers the United States because there are "no soldiers along the Canadian border."

#Dodsworth #William Wyler #Walter Huston

[prismartist]

orchard and palm tree for the ask game :)

wait i meant orchid. i can’t spell

ahfsj uhm lets see

orchid ⇢ what’s a song you consider to be perfect?

oh god this is along the vein of "favorite" questions which i am... terrible with. i don't really know, music is really subjective :p i do tend to love simple waltz-y songs, like gershwin or dodie, so... maybe something from their collection.

i will say though, brandon uranowitz's cover of "they can't take that away from me" has made me feel things everytime i hear it. as well as anything from the american in paris musical. and falsettos. so.

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?

uhmmmmmmmmmmm honestly? i tend to like most villains i come across lollll maybe not to a "love" extent but. i'm too compassionate for my own good and if they're queer coded i'm usually here for it lkJFDK

however i do have an obscure funny answer for this: the wazir in kismet, the orientalist 50s musical i liveblogged like last year. he's so funny and he dies at the end which i'm still sad about

#ty for the ask !! :] #ask #cobble-stone

[asscrasher]

Comics From Yesterday! 1•8•23

Rex Mundi #12 €

The Swan Knight

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This book is awesome! I haven’t read the first 11 issues but I’ll definitely be hunting down the entire series now! The story takes place in 1933’s Paris in a world where the Protestant Reformation failed. A religious thriller in a similar vein to the DaVinci Code. This issue taught me not only how to decipher neoclassical art with geometry but also clicked my head gears into figuring out the secret of the One Piece lol. Wild read!! First five star of the year.

Kroma #1

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

It’s like the Giver but a lot more exciting. A boy lives in the Pale City which shields its citizens from the dangers of color. The city ritually abuses a girl born with Heterochromia, treating her like an abomination to be ridiculed. She’s eventually given freedom by the boy who bonds with her, but he is immediately impaled on the last page. This was a great read with amazing page composition and gorgeous lines, and an inspired use of color. The priest of the Pale city is Chokmah af, and Kroma herself, trapped in the dark room, is Binah. Really vibing with the Pale Girl archetype lately.

#comics are good for your soul #comics #image comics #Rex mundi #Kroma

[mathiasenmathiasen96]

hermes pochette kelly 16

Hermes Kelly Pochette 22cm Stone Veins Deep Pink Togo Leather Mini Created in eight different sizes ranging from 15 to 50cm, each bag requires 20 hours of work. As is the case for other Hermes products, the Kelly bag is handmade by an unique craftsman throughout the whole course of. Said craftsman additionally stamps his initials on the bag. TheHermes Constance bagsis likely a better option. You always have your palms free to take footage, post on social medias or even work in your phone while you have with you every little thing else you want, cozily tucked inside the purse. Plus, the coated Monogram canvas is actually low maintenance. I could say that I am fairly lucky as I was able to find all the amazing aesthetic and useful qualities of the Pochette Metis Monogram in my most up-to-date replica. This imitation purse seems and feels very genuine. If your Sellier slouches, that is an instant purple flag of fake. Hermès Evelyne bags retain a 78% resale value, on common. Curated edit of pre-owned Hermès baggage sure to make you turn heads on the street à la Jenner herself. #7 Not to forget, valuable exotics like crocodile, lizard and ostrich, which typically start from EUR20,000 and above as seen at Christie’s Auctions. The elusive Himalaya Crocodile Niloticus Kelly28 was bought for a whopping EUR93,750 at Christie’s newest Sacs & Accessoires Auction in 12 December 2017 in Paris. In the Thirties, Robert Dumas, who would later become the pinnacle of Hermès, created the elegant Sac à dépêches. After Grace Kelly was photographed holding it in the 1950's, the bag shot to worldwide fame and was renamed the Kelly. Created underneath the design direction of Jean Paul Gaultier, the Kelly Pochette is the clutch interpretation of the basic Kelly bag. The Kelly Cut’s slender rectangular shape takes you from day to night with ease. The bag’s hardware has a gold-plated or palladium-plated finish for a rich, tarnish-free look. You’ll see that the keys and locks are also debossed with matching numerical codes. If these numbers aren’t clear, the bag is pretend. The warmth stamp is located beneath the front flap and can learn, “HERMÈS PARIS MADE IN FRANCE,” although classic baggage made earlier than 1954 might vary. It might be stamped in both silver or gold, however some may have a colorless debossed stamp. When you spend this amount of cash on a purse, you need it to be versatile. In 2011, the first of these luggage came to fruition and the Kelly bag anatomy lends itself to particular color placements which may be unique to the bag. Hermès intentionally placed an accent color where usually there could be shadow, similar to under the handle, the base panel, or the back of the sangles. https://phoenet.tw/replicas-hermes-bags/replica-kelly-pochette.html Check these locations, as a contrasting color right here would indicate that it's in reality an Éclat Kelly. In 2014, and with out a lot fanfare, a highly elusive set of Kelly bags hit shops the world over. Two colorways exist, one done in Cobalt Ostrich, Turquoise Swift , and Colvert Clemence leathers, and the opposite accomplished in Vert Véronèse Ostrich, Bamboo Swift, and Taupe Clemence leathers. For the Kelly bag, the 32cm version includes a cadena lock that's set in 68.4 grams of 18K White Gold and encrusted with forty VVS F-color white round brilliant diamonds, totaling 1.sixty four Carats. The plaques feature 182 VVS F-color white round good diamonds set in 10 grams of 18K White Gold, and the touret features one other 7 VVS F-color white spherical brilliant diamonds. This brilliant show is simply ever supplied to the house’s crème de la crème of clientele, surfacing solely once in a while on the secondary market. Summer romance in a cutout gown and sharing my favorites from the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale. A publish that includes one of the best in magnificence and fall style. Summer is made for statement dresses and vibrant color tales. Embracing summer season to the fullest, I paired a voluminous cut-out dress with a gentler hue. wikipedia handbags Made of leather-based and canvas, the Herbag Zip comes complete with a Kelly design with added staple lock closure, yet also comes with a removable zipped pouch and an exterior pocket. This list just isn't complete, however provides you an overview of some enjoyable and useful choices. Often they're simple to find in an excellent array of colours and leathers, and can be just as enjoyable and chic to hold. If possible, it’s all the time finest to see these superb bags in person! Note dimensions are approximate and prices are as of the date of publication. Possible light soiling of supplies on the shoe uppers. Please note that every one items entering countries exterior the US could also be subject to customs inspection and the assessment of duties and taxes in accordance to nationwide laws. 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#kelly pochette #hermes kelly pochette #mini kelly pochette #kelly pochette bag

[the-expatriate]

((MORE PARI IN CODE VEIN HAHA))

#pari in code vein

[alvarezmarquez6]

hermes pochette kelly 26

Hermes Kelly Pochette 22cm Stone Veins Deep Pink Togo Leather Mini The item is in honest pre-owned situation and shows total wear or patina relative to its age. The item is in superb condition and reveals one or two noticeable indicators of wear and tear or patina relative to its age. If successful bidder decides to cancel / withdraw they'll bear danger, cost of all delivery and return import duties of vendor. The best new and preowned Hermès Kelly 32 Bags all assured genuine and up to 70 off. Hermès never consists of authenticity playing cards with their purses. Many fake Hermes Birkin and Kelly bags come with these orange plastic credit cards that say “Hermes” on them. If the bag comes with one of these cards, it's positively a fake. Authentic hardware on Hermes bags are all the time a real precious steel, corresponding to plated gold or palladium plated. wikipedia handbags The trellis beneath the leather presses ahead, creating a waffle effect. To date, the Dwich Kelly has been made completely in Noir and Rouge H Box Calf varieties. The Sellier Mou is one such case of this broken rule. In the 1930s, Robert Dumas, who would later turn out to be the top of Hermès, created the elegant Sac à dépêches. After Grace Kelly was photographed holding it in the 1950's, the bag shot to international fame and was renamed the Kelly. Created underneath the design path of Jean Paul Gaultier, the Kelly Pochette is the clutch interpretation of the traditional Kelly bag. The Kelly Cut’s slender rectangular form takes you from day to night with ease. The Kelly bag is trapezoidal with a deal with, onto which, from 1960, they added a detachable strap, permitting for the bag to be carried by hand or on the shoulder. It closes utilizing two exterior buckles and a padlock. It is supplied with a robust leather-based lining, as nicely as four studs fixed to the bottom, permitting it to be rested on the floor. Its unparalleled high quality requires the identical craftsman to work on the bag for eighteen to twenty-four hours. When stacking up the hierarchy of Hermès handbags, the head of luxurious is the bags affixed with Diamond hardware. If your Sellier slouches, this is an immediate pink flag of fake. Hermès Evelyne luggage retain a 78% resale worth, on average. Curated edit of pre-owned Hermès bags certain to make you flip heads on the road à la Jenner herself. #7 Not to overlook, precious exotics like crocodile, lizard and ostrich, which usually begin from EUR20,000 and above as seen at Christie’s Auctions. The elusive Himalaya Crocodile Niloticus Kelly28 was offered for a whopping EUR93,750 at Christie’s latest Sacs & Accessoires Auction in 12 December 2017 in Paris. Kelly in clutch version, fairly gorgeous, don t you think It s slightly boxier in form than other Kelly bags, an ideal choice for an on a regular basis purse choice for the girl that wants structure and shape. The bag is simply roomy sufficient for all of your needed objects, like a iPhone, creditcards, keys and your wallets. For instance, Square Q is 2013, Square R is 2014. They now use a secret proprietary code using only a single letter with no form and no apparent order to the sequence, and have moved the blind stamps to the interior of the baggage. This is to verify that I even have acquired the requested bag and it's extremely nice, thanks for your professional manner and business. There was a scratch on the chain -see attached photo- hopefully subsequent time there shall be nothing as for positive I might be buying more stuff out of your store. You have no obligation to purchase the product once you realize the value. You can merely remove the merchandise from your cart. Hermes Kelly 28cm Rose Confetti Pink Sellier Shoulder Bag Y Stamp, 2020 Brand New in Box. Hermes Kelly 28cm Rouge Sellier Hermes Epsom Gold Hardware Z Stamp, 2021Brand New in Box. kelly pochette bag The bag’s hardware has a gold-plated or palladium-plated end for a rich, tarnish-free look. You’ll see that the keys and locks are additionally debossed with matching numerical codes. If these numbers aren’t clear, the bag is pretend. The warmth stamp is positioned underneath the entrance flap and will read, “HERMÈS PARIS MADE IN FRANCE,” though vintage luggage made earlier than 1954 might differ. It will be stamped in both silver or gold, however some could have a colorless debossed stamp. When you spend this sum of money on a handbag, you need it to be versatile.

#kelly pochette #hermes kelly pochette #mini kelly pochette #kelly pochette bag

[bendix44mcnulty]

hermes pochette kelly 6

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[cryinginthebackseat]

you’ve got more poison than sugar - part iii

part i  part ii  AO3

Fandom: Call Of Duty

Pairing: Russell Adler x Bell

Words: 6.572

Warnings: here’s where the smut tag comes into play, boy with a copious amount of power play and yeah, it’s messy af

Author’s note: after three months, a couple of brainstorming in the bathtub, delays, revisions and self-doubt, chapter 3 is finally done. i hope you'll enjoy it. also, i don't think i have to warn you what will go down in this chapter.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fast forward to twenty-four hours since he discovers that Bell is fucking someone, Lazar drops about half a dozen of dusty manilas on his desk. Adler’s eyes sweep over them. He recognizes Bell’s handwriting etched across the memo attached to one of the folders right away.

He picks it up. It’s becoming second nature to him lately; drawing himself to her, an ineradicable magnetic force pulling his end of the pole.

A muscle on his jaw twitches.

For a moment, Adler despises her. He allows himself to really despise her. She’s started something in his head- a war; an intangible, unmanageable riot and if he lets her, she’ll rearrange him until he’s insane.

And he can’t let that happen. He’s the one holding the leash here, not vice versa.

“This is what we have on Dragovich’s activities in Yamantau,” Lazar informs him, pulling him back down to earth.

Adler stands, keeping his face easy, neutral. “Is this everything?”

“So far, yeah. Bell says she’ll let us know if she digs up something more from the archives though.”

Bell- the Bell in question- can be heard sighing, like she turns the corner and finds herself at a cul-de-sac; hunching over her desk, reading, her fingers keep buttoning and unbuttoning the top of her shirt, madly distracting (him).

She remains in her seat, for pretty much the remainder of the day. Eyes glued to the pages before her, factory-like dedication. She hardly looks up when Sims borrows her pen or when Park stands over her, sipping her coffee, inquiring about her progress behind a plume of smoke.

The only- truly time Bell ever lifts her head from her work is when Mason approaches her desk. She gazes up at him, notes forgotten, a kittenish smile etched across her face, come-hither eyes that could have time hung in motion, or held at ransom, perhaps. Mason’s own smile is full-blown, too wide, too genial, as he stalks closer and closer to her table, her whirlpool.

Adler does a double-take, like his eyeballs only functioning for the first time. He might as well be hallucinating it because no... this can’t be right, can it?

But then Mason is touching her hand, a blink-and-you-miss-it movement that was not lost on Adler and oh, she’s looking at him hopefully now.

The knots in Adler's stomach are vertiginous. Realization rings in his head like a gunshot, nearly leaving him in a daze. There’s no denying it. Not when the exchange unfurls before his eyes like a broken, warped film reel and there’s nothing to stop him from seeing it.

The thought of her and him haunts the rest of his waking hours, until there’s absolutely no telling how far he’s fallen into his own pit. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ( Alex Mason fucked her that night.

Mason was in her bed; beside her, above her, under her. Inside her. He imagines her fingers digging into the mattress as Mason rolled her onto her stomach, mouth trailing down the ladder of her spine. Their breaths intermingled in the seraphic glow of her hotel room.

Alex Mason fucked her. It shouldn't leave an acrid taste in his mouth, but it does.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ She haphazardly reaches for the mug and takes a hearty gulp of its content. It’s not hers.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Bell says, mortified and places the mug down noisily on the desk. “I’m sorry, I thought it was mine.”

The rim of his mug is now stained with her lipstick. Adler bites down on a careful retort.

He thinks he knows now. Why he lets it happen, why he thinks of her in metaphors, why she gives him that vertigo. The answer is at the tip of his tongue- he can almost taste it, like spoiled milk or rancid gardenia. But it’s much easier to ignore it until the words grow diminuendo and disappear, that he thinks he imagined it all along.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You can’t obsess without turning around and getting lost in the middle.

Or losing a part of yourself in the process.

The idea of obsession, to obsess, perhaps is a far riskier thing for a person to have than playing the knife game, blindfolded with absolutely no telling where to start.

Yet we all do it, despite knowing the very dark flipside it possesses.

Perhaps it’s the very nature of humans, tucked deep within the pigeonhole of our minds, suffused by the very promise of bogus achievements that usually leads most of us insane, thinking that obsession is essential to living. But without it, artists are corporate slaves, slack-jawed know-it-alls moving stiffly in the middle of the hullabaloo that is our world; Paris would be just as unrecognizable today without Napoleon’s artistic legacy.

Obsession is good.

Obsession is dangerous.

The very dichotomy should have us all warded off of it.

Yet, again, we all do it. Again, and again, and again until it taints our veins. And it’s always far too late until you realize, that yes, now all you see is her, the air has been poisoned by her perfume, that her name is now forevermore engraved in your skin, like an overgild tattoo.

That you end up in downtown Berlin, out of sight, out of mind.

He finds them there, in a shoebox-sized cafe. Ill-lit, low-ceiling, coffee-stained floor that shows the wear of three decades worth of boots, pantoffels and high heels and Adler is sitting in his car, nursing a beer with but one all-consuming, perplexing thought:

Bell and Mason.

Someone told him they arrived together, about an hour ago. The cafe has become their usual haunts, his source said, ever since they’ve returned from Ukraine and Adler just can’t wrap his head around this- them. In his head, they’re wholly different entities. Two proper nouns separated by a conjunction, or a comma if mentioned in a list.

They’re the kind of opposites that he thought don’t attract, yet here they are.

Perhaps it's inevitable, both are products of brainwashing. Maybe they sensed one another, speaking in code, like detecting an RF signal from a nuclear bunker.

Then the doors to the cafe swing open. They step outside, cheeks flushed, his arm wrapped around her waist, her lips glueing on the slope of his neck. Shaded eyes watch them from the opposite street, his disgust obvious.

Now, Adler wonders how this all began. Someone must have made the first move.

He wonders if it was her. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You wanted to see me?"

Adler looks up from his desk and nods. "Lock the door behind you."

And Alex Mason, the root of all this trouble, obeys. Looking somewhat uncertain under the scrutiny of the harsh lights, and shuts the blinds. Unlike Woods, he takes a seat at the chair Adler sets up before the desk.

"What is it?" Mason asks, after a long, almost unending silence. His curiosity seeps through the room.

There is very little control when the first domino falls. Oftentimes, once it starts, it’s like crossing the Rubico n and the next thing you know, you are lying flat on the ground in some theater, 23 fresh stab wounds decorating your body and the beat of your pulse seems dim and distant, everything feels cold except your blood; warm, bright and thick like gasoline, crawling into every space until it goes into your throat and strangles you, kills you. Fini, kaput.

But then again, he's not Caesar and this isn't Rome.

Adler pushes the first tile.

"How long has this been going on?" he asks without fanfare, tight and composed as ever. Never mind the way his eyes ignite like cold blue fire behind his glasses.

"How long has what been going on?"

“You and Bell." And Mason blinks at him in surprise. Bingo. "I saw the two of you leaving for her hotel from a cafe in Downtown Berlin last night. So don't bother skirting your way around this.” Adler leans forward across his desk. He’s a man on a mission- there’s no stopping him now.

“Now, let me rephrase the question, how long have you been fucking her?"

"Hold on, hold on, you were stalking us?" Mason asks, waspish.

Adler winces inwardly. "I was keeping an eye out for my asset.”

“Asset?” Mason hisses, like Adler just blasphemed. “Jesus Christ, Russ, is that all she ever is to you? An asset? She’s your protégé, for god’s sake- a person! What is wrong with you?"

"Plenty. Or apparently, so I've been told.”

"I don't find you amusing.”

“I'm hardly ever,” Adler parries. Mason remains silent, yet the tilt of his lips translate exactly what words can't. "And you haven't answered my question."

“Bullshit. I don’t owe you anything."

"Listen, Al-"

"No, you listen to me. You may be calling the shots around here, but this has absolutely nothing to do with you. Whatever- or whoever - we're doing in our spare time is none of your business, do you understand? So you can just drop it," Mason seethes, bitter, and, much to Adler’s surprise, rises to leave. “We’re done here.”

"That's where you're wrong."

Mason has only managed to put a few paces between them before he turns around, once again stepping inside this metaphorical boxing ring.

"What?"

"This has everything to do with me," Adler says coolly. "You said it yourself, I'm the one who calls the shots here. Meaning, anything that could potentially fuck up my operation is my concern and I have the right to intervene should it needed. This, being a case in point."

Mason looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “What the hell does fucking her have to do with this whole operation?”

“Everything.” He says it like quiet resignation. It’s time to acknowledge the truth, he thinks, to that unusual idea that has been swirling in the deep recesses of his mind, that everyone’s weakness is varied.

Achilles had his heel, and Adler has her.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to, Al. You don't even know her."

Mason gives him a level stare. "And you do?"

Adler is so hard-pressed to say 'I made her' but even he wouldn't stoop that low.

"That is beside the point,” Adler tells him instead as he turns to his vice- one of them, at least- and lights it.

“There is literally no point to this conversation.”

“The point is, stay the hell away from Bell. I'm saying this for your own good."

"My own good or yours?"

Adler does not flinch, but his hand does ball into a fist under the table, how the fingers curl and then flex.

"Don't be ridiculous. I gain nothing from this except assurance." It's a lie, it's the truth. There's no in between. He doesn’t know which is which anymore. "You, on the other hand, I'm sure the old ball and chain wouldn't be near as thrilled about hearing this if word ever gets out."

Mason is quiet for a beat.

"Is that a threat?"

"Only once I pulled the pin," Adler replies, a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.

But the thing with Mason, he'll come to realize later, is how much, like with Bell, weaving through his mind is like trying to grasp for purchase in the dark as he, once again, does the unpredicted and smile- a venomous grin warps his face, like he’s mocking him, challenging him to move his piece on the board and make this mistake.

Adler stares back, surprised despite himself.

He shocks him further by saying, "Go ahead, then. Pull the pin, throw the grenade, tell her. See if she cares."

Adler’s eyes narrow at his askance. He then drags his attention to Mason’s left hand, and something grave and familiar rises in his chest.

The absence of the metal band around his ring finger tells him why.

“You know where to reach her. If anything, I’m sure she’d trust your words better than anyone else’s. So please, do it.” And Mason’s so goddamn sanctimonious about it. He’s clearly expecting this particular reaction out of Adler. It only leaves Adler angrier.

Another long pause stretches, heavy and unkind.

"Fine. Maybe she won't mind, but I'm sure the Agency wouldn’t be as tolerant.” Adler takes one last drag of his cigarette. He has that ‘Having nothing, nothing can he lose’ look on his face that makes Mason frowns. “Not when you’ve been fraternizing with the enemy.”

"What?”

"Bell. She’s not who you think she is, Al. Tell me, who do you think is the sorry bastard we saved in Trabzon?”

Mason blinks. His face is blank with shock, then he shakes his head. And he keeps shaking it, almost manic. If he laughs, which one would come first, he wonders, the gun or his fist pummeling the side of his face?

“You’re lying.”

“And why would I lie to you about this?”

"No, no, no, Woods- he told me the guy’s dead,” Mason says, his words are shaky.

“He’s not. And he wasn’t a he."

A crease forms between Mason's eyebrows, the starting of another frown.

“Hold on, if she’s helping us get Perseus then why is she the enemy?”

"Because she doesn't know that."

"Doesn't know what?"

"That she's the enemy."

Mason holds his gaze for a moment, his expression tense, like a slingshot.

And that cold elastic band finally snaps.

“What did you do to her?” He’s openly glaring at him now, mouth tight, an icy fury that is no longer dormant and for the first time since Adler has known him, he finds the man dangerous.

Adler takes a steadying breath. “We did what had to be done.”

"You sick son of a bitch. You brainwa- You-” Mason clamps his mouth shut, trembling hands finding his head. “Shit. How could you?"

Adler ignores his colorful outburst.

“She resisted every form of interrogations we threw at her, Al. We had no choice but to implement MK-Ultra as a last resort. We needed what’s in her head.” Mason is silent in reply. Adler continues, “Look, it’s nasty business, I know, but some of us have to cross a line just to make sure that line's still there in the morning. And as much as I hate agreeing with Hudson, he’s right. We need to preserve our way of life.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to play God,” his voice is resentful and crisp. “Do you have any idea what you are doing? You could jeopardize everything, and for what? You’ve seen what this- this experiment did to me, this won’t end the way you think!”

“Lightning never strikes the same place twice.”

"You’re really willing to gamble on that?”

Adler scowls. “I don’t gamble, Mason. I calculate. And if by some chance I was given a second chance, I’d do it all over again. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Mason doesn’t say anything at first, his loaded gun stare never falters. Then, “The flag may be different, but the methods are the same.”

"What was that?”

“Someone warned me, a long time ago, about how people like you will use people like me or Bell as pawns in your own game. You’d do whatever it takes to get what you want- and my, how you get results, don’t you? But you’re actually no different than the rest of the assholes you're fighting against,” Mason tells him, like he’s spitting out acid in Adler’s face.

“Bell may be the enemy- heck, she could be the architect behind all the chaos Perseus has done, but what you’re doing to her is vile and unethical. There are many ways to make her spill the beans, yet you chose the most immoral method there is out there. I sincerely hope you rot in hell for this."

Before Adler could formulate a response to his tirade, Mason stands to his feet.

“You want me to stay away from her? Fine. Consider this as my formal resignation. After Yamatau, I’m done. I’m out of the team. And if you know what’s good for you, you stay the fuck away from me because I don't ever want to see your face again, do you hear me?” he snarls. “If you think Woods is dangerous, Adler, just remember I nearly could have killed my own president."

Then Mason turns on his heel and walks out of the room, once and for all. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The fist is very much expected, and so does the pain that follows.

"You're out of your fucking depth, shithead," Woods spits, venom lacing his words.

Adler doesn't even bother to retaliate.

He doesn’t see the point. He didn’t think it would get this far. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The garage grows quiet and stodgy with now Mason and Woods are out of the picture. Everyone settles back into their own normal rhythm, the same routine before both men set their feet here almost a week ago.

Hudson doesn’t take the news of their departure kindly, naturally. He stands in Adler’s office, pacing, fuming. Adler ignores him, trying to nurse the skull-splitting migraine he's having at his desk instead. The nasty black eye hidden underneath his glasses. A secret locked, the key thrown away.

His headache, thankfully, has subsided when Sims takes a seat on the other side of the desk, hours later after Hudson left.

"I'm not trying to cause an alarm here, but you'd better watch your back."

Adler's brows furrow but doesn’t look up from the papers before him. "And why's that?"

"'Cause I think you just pissed off the wrong beast," Sims tells him. Adler pauses, then lifts his head to look at his cohort. There's genuine worry flashing over his face.

“Are you talking about Bell?”

“Who else?”

If she's a beast, then what am I? What he wants to ask, but there's a knock at the door and he swallows the words down his throat.

"Come in," Adler says, pretending to be reading again.

The door opens and Bell, fucking Bell, enters his office. It's like watching a tiger pass by your hiding spot in near dark. Neither he nor Sims breathes a word.

Bell's gaze immediately swings to him, like a cosmic pull. She's watching him as she wanders over to the desk and the weight of her stare burns him like Greek fire.

He pushes the documents close, all the while returning her stare. He is never the one who backs out of a challenge, and at this point, he knows that she probably knows that. Maybe that’s why she initiated it in the first place.

"Bell, what is it?" Adler asks firmly, in possession of his full power in this place.

Bell produces three diskettes from her pocket. Something odd definitely shining in her eyes.

"These have been lying on Lazar's desk for hours, but he's busy, so I thought I'd deliver them to you myself," Bell says. And he's trying to work out on her angle but she is unreadable. As always.

Adler nods, frustrated and indignant. "You can leave them here. Thank you."

It is only once the woman leaves that the two agents share a dark, significant look. That was too close.

And it goes without saying, something needs to be done about this. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

March 7th. A's insistence on raising the dosage is illogical. Recent behavioural analysis indicates depression. Will monitor for the next few days. Considering lowering the dosage instead. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The elevator reeks of smoke, cheap Soviet air freshener and something far more poisonous than the devil’s spider, silky hands.

It embodies the woman standing next to him right now- this special animal, emotionless, a constant mystery wrapped with a warning sign.

Adler is tempted to shut his eyes.

Or get out of here. He doesn’t dwell well in this atmosphere, this limited space shared with her alone. He probably should have listened to Hudson about taking Bell for this mission, but she’s the only one he trusts who won’t fuck this up. Not to mention her spotless Russian has proven to help them blend in with the crowd seamlessly.

He needs her, whether he would admit it aloud or not.

But she puts his head in such a spin.

She’s been near-mute since they departed from Germany. She barely acknowledges his questions and orders, barely looks at him. She’s been treating him as if he’s another shadow on the wall.

He rubs the side of his jaw. Something does need to be done about this.

“Are you going to stay quiet forever?” Adler asks. He’s bad at this, but he can’t stand her silence for much longer. Not to mention, they’re at the Lubysnka- the fucking lion's den. If she wants to wallow over Mason’s absence or sinks into whatever melancholic feeling she’s in, she can do it later.

Bell hums, her mouth curls up like serpentine. Adler sketches a confused frown.  And she says, “I don’t know. Should I?”

And then, sudden and swift, Bell undoes the cuffs of her uniform. Beady eyes never leave his.

The sight catches him off guard. Somewhere in his mind, he curses something like ‘you’re a beast’ and ‘what the hell are you?’ at her, all in negative connotations. The effects she inflicts on him is maddening.

“What are you doing?” Adler doesn’t bother to hide his surprise.

Bell shrugs and gestures to the duffle bag at their feet. “Gearing up.”

Oh. Embarrassment wells up in him. Fucking hell, this woman will be the death of him.

Her fingers quickly move on to the buttons, still indifferent, nearly tearing them from the seams. The first glimpse of her skin and Adler can’t help but give in, openly stares at her in a way he has never imagined before. Her clavicles like daggers glinting in the lamplight.

Curiosity is a dangerous and heavy load.

He should have closed his eyes.

“Enjoying the show?” Her voice pulls him back from his musings. Her eyes still zero in on him, cutting him to pieces.

Her cleavage comes into view.

The lines on Adler’s face grow taut.

“What do you want, Bell?” He asks, intending for a bark but it ends somewhere like a plea.

“I want many things. As of right now, I want Alex’s cock inside me.” And Adler nearly chokes on his own breath. Bell, eagle-eyed as ever, caught the movement. “But it seems someone insists on being in control of everything, isn’t he?” she snaps.

Adler’s back goes rigid. Trepidation bubbles up in his chest.

Of course, she knows.

“It's not about control.” Adler turns around. He doesn’t quite know what he’s avoiding at this point, her flesh or the truth. “It’s about what’s right.”

He hears her uniform touches her floor as she laughs, mirthless, like broken chandeliers. “I didn’t know whose cock I’m riding is any concern of yours.”

“It is when he’s a member of the team,” he seethes. “What you’re doing with Alex will only lead to complications. And I can’t have tha-”

“Because this is all about you, isn’t it? It’s about upholding your precious reputation in the Agency, controlling the narrative the way you want it no matter how many characters you kill off in the process. It’s always about what you want.” Bell interrupts, not missing a beat. “You selfish motherfucker.”

"This has nothing to do with my reputation in the CIA."

She scoffs. "Spare me the crap, Adler."

Adler turns to fully face her again and holds his arms open, the way someone is facing the firing squad. “Fine. Fine, yes, I’m a selfish motherfucker. I did it because I thought it could ruin the operation. Is that what you wanted to hear? Now, what are you going to do about it?”

She says nothing at first. He silently catalogues her movements as she steps towards him now, half-naked and furious. He feels pinned.

Then, “What do you want me to do about it?”

His mouth dries at the implication. She is temptation, benediction, the coarse ice block before the carver.

How terrible it is to lose control, even just once.

A knowing, vicious smirk flashes over her face. Adler feels like he’s just shown his hand.

“You are one selfish bastard and a coward to boot, aren’t you?” Bell sneers before he has a chance to respond. “At least, Alex was brave enough to make the first move, but you…” her gaze raking up and down his figure coldly, a jeweller presented with second-grade imitations. Wind her up and this honey bee stings.

“You’ll always be the man who hides behind his shades,” she says, dry as dust, and steps back and snatches her clothes from the bag.

This is, without a single doubt, the longest elevator ride he’s ever experienced in his life. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Adler arrived back in Berlin breathing a little harder. Worry wrapped around his neck like a noose, placed by Bell herself; the judge, jury and executioner.

The knot tightens every time his mind refers to her.

The agency trained him, specifically, to keep calm under pressure. He didn’t coin the title “America’s Monster” from his colleagues for nothing. They don’t fear him because he’s hot-headed or thinks in large-scale violence— guns blazing, napalm-induced flames over the hill in the morning, bloodied knuckles and fractured jaw, blood-soaked soles tarnishing the white marble floor. Someone can point a fucking shotgun to his face and he’ll barely flinch. Only monsters remain impassive to direct threats of violence.

But there’s something about Bell that elicits this visceral, primal reaction out of him. Something strange and new; lightning about to be uncapped from its chains.

It chokes him, frightens him to the core.

How gauche is it, don’t you think, that his own mind is conspiring against him?

Now, in the garage, where it dawns on Adler that she’s probably the only person who can make him walk around the city, feeling like a fool, he decides he’s had enough. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I’ll drive you back.”

Adler apprehends Bell outside the garage. He kind of assumed she’d have a pistol aimed at his head right now, but she spins around, hands shoved deep inside her pockets and clayey mouth curls in distaste.

“Get in the car, Bell,” Adler says tightly, almost adding please.

But he would not beg.

The brunette remains rooted in her place. For a moment, a calculating look crossed her face. Always, always that sharp mind of hers turning and he wonders where it would take her this time.

“Try asking nicely,” she demands.

Adler’s eyes flash. She really is testing him. But fine, he'll play her game.

“Bell, would you kindly get in the car?” He is all but snarls, teeth gritting. Bell hardly wavers- he wishes she would waver for a change.

She does what he asked of her, finally, the shadow of a smirk on her face mocking him. Adler follows suit, teeth still clenched together, and starts the car and drives away.

It's sort of like a deja-vu, he supposes; him and her in this very same car, except that stupid krautrock music is absent this time. Neither says anything for the first twenty minutes. Everything feels heavily still.

Until he realizes she’s probably waiting for his move.

This might gloriously blow up in his face, yes, he knows this. Especially remembering the last time he was alone in a tight space with her, it had cost him his pride.

And his mind.

But he’s been here before, in the eye of the storm. He was at his calmest here. He has his cards prepared now.

Adler inhales deeply.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he utters resolutely. He doesn’t look at her, doesn’t want to. “I was out of line, I admit it. Your affair with Mason should be no concern of mine but I really am just trying to look out for you.”

It’s weak, he knows. The words feel more like an anchor than an actual apology in his tongue anyway, but Adler didn’t expect that Bell would give him nothing. Not even an acknowledging hum, a scathing retort, a scoff. Nothing.

A twinge of irritation brews in his stomach. Why does she insist on playing games?

The car comes to a stop. They’ve arrived. Adler wrests his hands from the steering wheel to say something harsh to her, but Bell is already stepping out of the car.

She stands on the sidewalk; an enigma in royal red, and her lethal, all-seeing eyes gravitate to him in the night.

There is a long paralyzing beat where they just stare at each other- which seems to be a running theme between them lately. Adler is fuming, as he is confused.

It feels like hours, centuries, eons, but, like all magic, the spell is broken. Courtesy of a stranger hailing a cab behind his car.

Bell turns and walks inside the building. She doesn’t bother sparing him the final glance or extend her appreciation for the ride back and Adler thinks to himself, this universe, god fucking damnit, nothing makes sense here.

But it is also in moments like this that the world spins, when he notices a singular, significant detail that makes his stomach roll, nearly throwing him off balance:

Bell left the passenger door open.

And he’s insane- he has to be, right? He’s looking too much into this. It doesn’t mean anything. His mind conjures an image, like a graphic guideline or something, step one: get out of the car, two: make your way around and close the passenger door, and third: zoom out of the neighborhood while your sanity is still intact, all in that order. Easy to comprehend, to follow.

Adler only does the first two steps. He’s ass-backwards doesn’t even bother to digest the third step.

He enters the hotel instead and takes in the surroundings. The lobby is pointedly bare, but warm and smoky. The concierge is reading behind the counter- a young, wiry boy with shocking bleached hair- with headphones on. It’s late, he probably doesn’t expect anyone to check in at this hour.

A movement by the staircase catches his interest. He sees Bell climbing up the steps slowly, leisurely. Adler makes his way there.

Halfway reaching her floor, Adler has the inkling that she knows that he’s following her. Also, because the next she does is glancing back at him over her shoulder. He waits for her to push him down the stairs or wrap those delicate hands around his neck. She does neither. She doesn’t want him gone.

Yet, his mind betrays him. Only because she doesn’t know what other atrocities he’s committed to her.

She stops by her door, opens it and goes in first. Adler, without waiting for a formal fucking invitation, slips in behind her.

Her room is much smaller than his. The TV is still on- a German dubbed of All the President’s Men is playing- a stack of books and meds lying haphazardly on the desk table.

The door clicks shut behind him. Bell wanders over to the table and turns off the TV. Her back to him.

She doesn’t bother turning the light switch on. The green neon of the hotel sign outside illuminates the room, bathes her in it, making her look even stranger and faraway.

He doesn’t take off his sunglasses.

“What do you want, Bell?” Adler is all but snarling. His anger comes in a bottle with a twist-off cap. “I’m fucking sick of playing your games. I apologized, I admitted I was wrong- I fucked up, but what more could you want?”

Jesus, and now he’s losing his temper over a brainwashed Russian who rarely talks. How did it come to this?

She tugs off her gloves. Once again, barely acknowledging him. Apparently, if ignoring him is an art form, she is the fucking Monet.

Until:

“Take them off.”

Adler blinks hard behind his glasses. Like he’s just stepped into a whole different earth.

His mouth moves.

“What?”

“Your sunglasses. Take them off.”

He stares at her back. Trying really, really hard to make sure he’s not hallucinating this, but then Bell turns around, a finger tapping against her arm, waiting.

Realization hits him like an uppercut in the face and nearly leaves him in a daze. He’s walked into a trap. That much is clear as day. She wants him to suffer as she does. An eye for an eye.

Adler holds no modicum of control in her domain, not unless she gives the reins. Once again, she plays the judge, jury and executioner at her own court.

But, like before, he’ll play her game.

There, the glasses are off. His eyes, bare, blue like fractured ice, meeting hers. In the dark, he feels her eyes shift to assess his bruise.  

His heart booms against his ribs.

"Kneel,” she says glibly.

He obeys, again. His legs and hands don’t shake, but his mind is much less governable than his limbs. No, the CIA didn’t prepare a manual for situations like this and he doesn’t trust his instincts to help him dance his way around this.

Nor does he want to.

The thought fucks him up to a degree.

Adler should have known that it wouldn’t take an entire nation or continent to bring him to his knees, no, no. That would have been too easy, anyway. Although history has dictated and taught him that women are never to be underestimated, Adler hasn’t expected that one woman would be able to do the deed and succeed.

But then again, when that woman is Bell, he supposes anything is possible.

When Bell approaches him, he’s unable to take his gaze from her. Her eyes spangle with determination, an avenging soul in the neon lights. Her fingers work on the sash of her coat. The line of her mouth is flat and inscrutable. The air crackles with electricity and a promise of the unsayable, the unattainable.

She stands over him now, gloveless and coatless. She’s powerful like this and he can only crane his head up at her, ceding his fate in her hands, against his better judgement. She catches that.

Suddenly, something unpleasant breaks on her face, like when one’s smelling something foul or pungent.

Bell reaches down and grips his jaw painfully in one hand, her nails digging into his skin, and tilts his head sideways. Strange that his stomach leaps at that.

“Say you’re sorry,” she spits furiously. “And say it like you fucking mean it.”

He feels, suddenly, triumphant and chuckles darkly. Eight fucking long weeks and the beast finally shows her claws.

“Try asking nicely,” Adler parrots her words from before, not a beat missed. Two can play that game, he thinks. "Or are you above niceness, Bell?”

Her grip tightens.

"You’re one to talk,” Bell says. Then, rubs the pad of her thumb over his scarred cheek and it feels like forgiveness, or the beginning of it, at least.

His confusion spikes.

Her nose skims down his jawline.

A better, sensible man would apologize. He'd squander it until his tongue burns acid, he'd beg for her forgiveness like a man asking for repentance before his god.

“Why did you do it, Russell?” Bell whispers against his skin now, baleful and raspy. Her chest rising and falling too rapidly.

But he’s a sick bastard, a selfish motherfucker, a heartless monster. All he does is hurt the people around him. He doesn’t get to take from her, not after what he's done.

Still, Adler catches her wrist. Relishing the way her wrist bone grinds under his hold. He pulls his face back to look at her.

“You know why.”  

Her eyes flick dangerously to his lips.

Desperation really can make the most vulgar things tolerable.

“Then prove it.”

So he does. As his hand reaches up to her neck, past the delicious column of her throat and with a precise swift, Adler grabs a fistful of her hair, the feminine gasp escaping her mouth is like a jolt to his groin, and kisses her.

Bell responds in kind. That little beast. She grasps his collar and drags him up to his feet, impatient with want. She laps at him, bites and sucks. His free hand snakes around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

She pulls away, catching her breath, and his teeth skim down her jaw, her neck. He bites her there in retaliation, on the delicious junction of her neck and shoulder, into the fabric of her shirt, making his intentions clear. Bell chokes in surprise and scrapes her nails over his scalp.

It hurts. But with pain, along comes pleasure and it’s good. It’s so good, Adler melts with a shaky breath.

His gloves come off first. Next, she pulls him free off his jacket, his sweater and snakes a hand between his legs, stroking him. He bites off a strangled ‘fuck’ into her throat. He’s worked up real fast already. Adler manages to make a short work of her shirt, unclasping her bra before he’s all but pushes her onto the bed.

Adler settles above her, capturing her lips in another feverish, hot-blooded kiss. He tugs her zipper down and slips his hand inside her pants. Her cunt’s everything he’s come to expect: wet, warm and oh-so wrong. She sucks in a breath. Her hips move against his hand. His blood sings. She throws her head back against the pillow, while his finds her earlobe.

“Has this proven my point, Bell?” he asks. His answer starts on a moan and ends with a breathless ‘yes’.

He doesn’t let her come that easily. No, he wants to drag this out for as long as he can until it drives her mad. So, Adler peels the rest of her clothes away, pulls her shoulder and turns her onto her stomach. He pins her down, hard. She gasps loudly against the white pillowcase, her hand fists into the sheets.

Adler slots himself behind her. His hand tracing along her spine, followed by his mouth, just how he fantasized once upon a time. His other hand quickly undoes the snap of his pants. Everything has been poisoned by her and her only; she is in his tongue, his veins, his mind, his lungs. She takes the centrefold of his mind and it's ridiculous.

He presses himself against her ass. His mouth falls open. Her body trembles. She’s all sin and racing hearts and sweaty flesh. She’s perfect. His now free hand slides up to the nape of Bell’s neck, reaching her throat, pressing down. She makes this high-pitched, demanding noise as she moves her hips back against him, leaving him wanting, helpless at the thought of having her right here, right now, in the warm neon glow of her hotel room.

“Please,” Bell begs. He groans in response and he gives it to her. Fuck, he’d give her anything if she begs just exactly like that.

When Adler is finally inside her, he thinks his world drops dead. He sets a merciless pace. He is not a gentle man and there is nothing gentle in the supple arch of her back, a rose bent backwards in the wind, as he pants along her neck before he pulls out, twists her onto her back again and pushes deeper into her until she comes apart underneath him (he’s made sure she begs for it- please, Russell. Oh god, Russell)

(He didn’t have to. Russell Adler is never the kind of man to fall for his dark side, but Christ knows he is only one man)

#russell adler #russell adler x bell #adler x bell #cod cold war #cod bell #cod #call of duty #call of duty black ops #call of duty cold war #alex mason #frank woods #helen park #lawrence sims #jason hudson #lazar azoulay

[raeynbowboi]

Disney Villains in DnD

With the Disney Princesses and Princes, I put them into parties, but for the villains, I’m going to start by listing the ones powerful enough to be a Warlock Patron in descending order of power (by their base form). The rest are ordered by the release date of their film. I’m not going to cover all of the Disney villains in this one post, as there’s just too many, and not all of them map easily onto DnD.

CHERNABOG THE DARK MASTER

AS BIG BAD: Archfield Patron Warlock (Asmodeus)

As Playable Character:

Race: Asmodeus Tiefling Background: Courtier Class: Divine Soul Sorcerer (Evil) Skills: Insight, Deception, Intimidation, Persuasion

The Devil on Bald Mountain, Chernabog stands as Satan and Lucifer incarnate, the Disney-Canon equivalent to the Prince of Darkness, and the ruler of Hell. Like with Maleficent and Hades, Chernabog lacks a stat block, being a Greater Deity, and King of the Archfiends, Ruler of the Nine Hells. As a playable character, Chernabog doesn’t lend out his hellish powers or get them from an outside source. Instead he is a Tiefling with the infernal bloodline of Asmodeus (Lawful Evil) running through his veins. When he was an angel, Lucifer would have been a courtier, standing in the shining Court of Heaven before he was banished to Hell. His skills make him adept at lying to and manipulating people, as Insight lets him learn a person’s desires, and then use lies and honeyed words to lead them astray in his service. Consider this a free “how to play as satan” build.

MALEFICENT THE WICKED FAIRY

As Big Bad: The Raven Queen

As Playable Character:

Race: Hexblood Background: Noble (History, Persuasion Intimidation) Class: Wildfire Druid Skills: Arcana, History, Intimidation, Perception

Lore-wise, Maleficent uses “All the Powers of Hell”, but in terms of Dungeons and Dragons, the Wildfire Druid gives Maleficent the best parallels to her powers, as she’s able to grow a wall of thorns, call a bolt of lightning, Polymorph into a fire-breathing dragon, and spread fire. It also works lore-wise as the Wildfire Druid destroys the very forest they swore to protect. As a Hexblood, Maleficent becomes a fey hag, able to curse princesses and disguise herself as a racial ability. As the Big Bad, Maleficent maps perfectly onto the Raven Queen, ruling over the shadowfell, summoning the Heartless to do her biding, and loaning Diablo to those who worship or swear fealty to the Raven Queen.

HADES GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD

As Big Bad: Hades/Death God

As Playable Character:

Race: Mephistopheles Tiefling/Reborn Background: Charlatan Class: Death Cleric Skills: Deception, Insight, Persuasion, Sleight of Hand

For Hades, the God of the Dead, making him into a Cleric was a no-brainer. But Clerics have very limited options for fire magic. Sacred flame and Flame Strike both deal radiant damage, and their only other fire spell is Searing Smite which they got in the spell list expansion. But as a Mephistopheles Tiefling, Hades can also gain temporary access to Burning Hands and Flame Blade, along with Mage Hand. Mephistopheles is also the demon best known for making a deal with Faust, a trait shared by the deal-making Hades. If you’re not feeling the fire theme, or your DM doesn’t like the tiefling subraces, Hades can also work as a Reborn.

THE HORNED KING MASTER OF THE CAULDRON BORN

As Big Bad: Undead/Undying Warlock Patron (Lich)

As Playable Character:

Race: Reborn Background: Noble (History, Persuasion Intimidation) Class: Necromancy Wizard Skills: Arcana, History, Intimidation, Investigation

Ironically, there is a new magic item that maps perfectly onto the Black Cauldron, the Cauldron of Rebirth. But oddly, it can only be attuned by a Druid or Warlock, and the Necromancy Wizard creates the strongest undead thralls, as he adds his Proficiency Bonus to their attack and damage rolls. But if you’d rather have the Horned King be able to use the Cauldron of Rebirth, then make him a Spores Druid. If you absolutely must go warlock, make him an Undead Warlock. As a Warlock Patron, he would be a Lich. In the Chronicles of Prydain books, he served Arawn, God of Death. But the Horned King serves no such master in the Disney film.

JAFAR THE GRAND VIZIER

As Big Bad: Genie Warlock Patron (Efreeti)

Race: Human/Fire Genasi Background: Courtier (Insight, Persuasion) Class: Genie Warlock (Djinni)/Wild Magic Sorcerer Skills: Arcana, Deception, Insight, Persuasion

Jafar is the only one of the patron villains who themselves is a warlock to another patron. In his human form, Jafar has little to no powers. Everything Jafar is able to do is through either his magic snake staff or Genie’s magic. It’s only once he becomes a genie himself that Jafar has his own powers. So, Jafar here is split between two builds. As a human, he’s a warlock relying on a djinni. As a genie himself, he’s a wild magic sorcerer. Technically, he could be both. Play Jafar however you want. As a big bad, Jafar is stuck as one of the most subserviant types of warlock patron, which isn’t so surprising why he’s this low on the patron scale. Only Ursula is technically weaker than him, but that’s only true when she’s in her base form. Once she wields the trident, Ursula is even more powerful than The Horned King.

URSULA THE SEA WITCH

As Big Bad: Fathomless Warlock Patron (Sea Hag/Kraken)

As Playable Character:

Race: Triton Background: Courtier (Insight, Persuasion) Class: Glamour Bard Skills: Arcana, Deception, Insight, Performance, Persuasion Items: Circlet of Human Perfection (reskin as seashell necklace)

I built Ariel as a Fathomless Warlock because in order for her to be on land, she had to make a deal with Ursula. So, with Ursula on land, she can masquerade as Vanessa, using Ariel’s voice to charm and manipulate people. We even see Ursula do this when she charms Eric, so we know that as Vanessa, Ursula could easily run a successful criminal empire using Ariel’s voice to hypnotize and manipulate people into obeying her orders. The Circlet of Human Perfection allows Ursula to maintain a perfect beautiful human disguise without having to eat up spell slots. As a Fathomless Patron, Ursula in her base form is a simple Sea Hag, being much weaker. But once she gets a hold of Dekella, the Bident of Thassa from King Triton, she can grow in both size and power to rival the might of a Kraken. And with Thassa’s divine bident, Ursula can command the tides and all the beasts and monstrosities within it, puting her nearly on par with the powers of a goddess of the sea. But unlike Hades, Maleficent, and Chernabog, even at her near godlike power, Ursula still has a stat block, her bident can still be taken from her, and she can still be slain and defeated.

QUEEN GRIMHILDE THE EVIL QUEEN

Race: Human Background: Noble (History, Persuasion Intimidation) Class: Alchemist Artificer Skills: Arcana, History, Intimidation, Investigation

I really did consider the Transmutation Wizard for Grimhilde, as it has the power to cast polymorph for all of your Frog Prince needs, and a master transmuter can even Restore Youth. But then, the alchemist can brew a potion of transformation, and the chemistry set is clearly how we see Grimhilde using magic. The only magic she performs without the chemistry set is when she creates a gust of wind in front of her magic mirror. She doesn’t even create the lightning bolt for her transformation spell, it just happens to be storming outside, so she’s not controlling the weather either. Plus, the most powerful spell she has is the poisoned apple and she has to summon a bolt of lightning to cast Alter Self, a 2nd level spell. By DnD standards, Grimhilde’s not really that powerful. She doesn’t even fight the player herself in Kingdom Hearts: Birth by Sleep.  If you want Grimhilde to be more magical, then go with Transmutation Wizard, but if you want to be more accurate, the Alchemist is how Grimhilde does her magic. Yzma from The Emperor’s New Groove shares a nearly identical build.

CAPTAIN HOOK THE GENTLEMAN THIEF

Race: Human Background: Pirate (Athletics, Perception) Class: Swashbuckler Rogue Skills: Athletics, Deception, Insight, Intimidation, Perception, Persuasion

While Hook’s still a putrid coward, he holds himself quite well, and is the epitome of Lawful Evil, maintaining a strict personal moral code to clash with Peter’s frankly Chaotic Neutral “heroism”. Hook’s not really good at the normal rogue skills like hiding or thieving, but he shines as a manipulative double-talking liar. Long John Silver from Treasure Planet has a similar build.

GASTON LEGUME THE HANSOME HUNTER

Race: Human Background: Folk Hero (Animal Handling Persuasion, Survival) Class: Monster Slayer Ranger Skills: Athletics, Perception, Persuasion Stealth, Survival

As the strapping hero of Belle’s Village, Gaston has the favor of his entire community, keeping them safe from any and all beasties that lurk beyond the city. Too bad he’s as rotten as they come. Likely one of the weakest villains in terms of pure power scale as little more than a local hero, he’s still an iconic enough villain I couldn’t resist adding him. Clayton from Tarzan shares a similar build.

SCAR THE USURPER OF PRIDE ROCK

Race: Leonin Background: Noble (History, Persuasion) Class: Oath of Treachery Paladin Fighting Style: Unarmed Skills: History, Insight, Intimidation, Persuasion

Simba was a druid because he was a wise king who could call upon his people to stand beside him. Scar is a paladin because he has devoted himself to a single goal: his own personal power. Scar shows little wisdom, but has a strong character and savvy charms about him that make him better suited as a CHA caster.

JUDGE CLAUDE FROLLO THE JUDGE OF PARIS

Race: Human Background: Investigator Class: Light Cleric Skills: Insight, Investigation, Persuasion, Religion

This was an easy villain to build. As a religious man worshipping God (who would def fall under Life, Light, and maybe Knowledge) Frollo would go for the one that lets him keep witches warm. His background was chosen as an investigator because he’s responsible for keeping the peace in Paris, and there wasn’t a background option for lawmaker. Noble or Courtier might have worked, but didn’t seem quite like the right fit as they deal more with aristocratic authority and royal court politics.

RIKU THE HEARTLESS KEYBLADE MASTER

Race: Human Background: Soldier (Athletics, Intimidation) Class: Raven Queen Warlock/Hexblade Warlock, Shadow Sorcerer Pact Boon: Blade Skills: Arcana, Athletics, Deception, Intimidation

In the first Kingdom Hearts game, Riku spends most of the game being manipulated by Maleficent. His DnD counterpart would surely be a warlock to her. But Maleficent oddly has not one but three possible warlock patron options. As the Raven Queen, she obviously has the Raven Queen Warlock, but the Raven Queen also created the Hexblade, which come from the Shadowfell, which she rules over. The third is unique to Maleficent, as she is a fairy, and a powerful one at that. Making her a valid choice for an Archfey Warlock. Archfey doesn’t quite fit Riku, but the other two do, and as a Sorcerer, Riku draws power from the Shadowfell which his patron rules over.

DR. FACILIER THE SHADOW MAN

Race: Human Background: Charlatan (Deception, Sleight of Hand) Class: Fiend Warlock Skills: Arcana, Deception, Persuasion, Sleight of Hand

It’s kind of hard to deny that Dr. Facilier is obviously a warlock, though his patron options don’t really come close to a neat fit. Among his choices though, fiend comes the closest to selling his soul to the Other Siders or Shadow Folk. It’s possible he could have sold his soul to the Raven Queen and his shadowy friends are the emissaries of the shadowfell, but as he has no raven or crow familiar, that’s a somewhat weak comparison.

#disney #disney villains #disney villain #maleficent #chernabog #hades #Jafar #ursula #vanessa #horned king #the horned king #riku #dr facilier #frollo #evil queen #queen grimhilde #grimhilde #captain hook #scar #disney scar #gaston #sleeping beauty #hercules #aladdin #little mermaid #the little mermaid #black cauldron #the black cauldron #kingdom hearts #princess and the frog

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; SAWAYAMA (Part I)

DYNASTY

"I'm losing myself."

"Catch me before I fall."

"Saving myself is all I really know."

"The pain in my vein is hereditary."

"Won't you break the chain with me?"

"I'm gonna take the throne this time."

"It's been way too long, too far, too gone, to carry on."

"You can't hide it in the walls."

"It's been living in our lives, passed on down family lines."

"Anything to carry down our dynasty."

"I nearly gave it away for the sake of my sanity."

"I know you risked everything."

"Now it's my time to make things right."

"If I fail, then I am my dynasty."

XS

"I want it all."

"When the heart wants what it wants, what can I do?"

"I deserve it."

"I'm the baddest and I'm worth it."

"Gimme just a little bit more."

"The price we paid is unbelievable."

"I'm taking in as much as I can hold."

"Here are the things you'll never know."

"Make me less so I want more."

"Bought a zip code at the mall."

"Where did it go awry?"

"All this time, heaven was in our eyes."

"Forget about it 'til the end of time."

"Yeah, I want more."

STFU!

"Let's go."

"Silence finally in my head."

"It's too late."

"You're preaching even though I'm dead."

"I'm in my prime."

"How come you don't expect me to get mad when I'm angry?"

"I know I'm not the only one."

"How come you don't respect me?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Have you ever thought about taping your big mouth shut?"

"If you want it, come and get it."

"I don't wanna be that girl again."

"I've been done and been through more friends than I can count on my fingertips."

"How come you don't detest me?"

COMME DES GARCONS (LIKE THE BOYS)

"Can I just record you doing that?"

"Is it on?"

"Had to wash my fears away again."

"It's just another day to pretend."

"I'm done waiting."

"I'm so confident."

"Excuse my ego."

"Every time you see me, it's like winning big in Reno."

"Don't fuck with me."

"I'm taking names from London to Meguro."

"You should never be ashamed to have it all."

"It's gonna be okay."

"You've come a long way."

"Write my name up in the sky from Paris to Shibuya."

"Elevate your vision when you put me on the cover."

AKASAKA SAD

"The doors are closing."

"Flew here to escape."

"Sucks to be me."

"Sucks to be so lonely."

"Don't look at me."

"I bruise easily."

"I'm a sucker, so I suffer."

"I guess I'll be sad."

"I hear tragic symphonies."

"Searching for a pain that turns into happiness."

"(Age) and I still want to scream."

"Can't face who I can and can't be."

#rp sentence starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #sentence starters #sentence meme #sentence prompts #lyric sentence starters #lyric starters #music starters #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask meme #*mystarters #*sawayama