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randomfoggytiger · 18 days

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Dreamland II: Golf Clubs, Diana Fowley, and Mulder's Father

(Courtesy of: @theparadigmshifts)

Dedicated to @goodshipsmulder~

I started out this post trying to draw parallels between Mulder's golf clubs and his past relationship with Diana. Yet, nothing about the Fowl One screamed "golf" or even upper-class country club to me; not enough, at least, for Mulder to spend money on and continually reuse a pair of clubs at her insistence.

However, I stumbled into another entirely other theory-- one that connects directly back to the late Bill Mulder.

Here we go~

DIANA FOWLEY, GOLF CLUBS, AND ORIGINAL THEORIES

Diana Fowley and golfing don't seem to fit in the same sentence: ease and relaxed calculation doesn't quite jive with bold and determined manipulation.

She's career driven: her work ethic caught the eye of the Consortium either before or after she and Mulder discovered the X-Files; and she took trips back and forth from Europe to Tunisia weekly to report her findings. Not to mention, she and Mulder were partners during his first couple months to first year on the files (if my timeline is accurate), and she's shone to fix his singular focus more firmly to "the work" in service of her own end goals. Diana's compliments and wheedling in The End imply she's not slackened her pace years later, and that she believes she can pick right up where Scully left off and do more and do it better.

Perhaps she and Phoebe Green were sporty types, more inclined to low cardio workouts to keep active and in shape. This would be an interesting juxtaposition to Scully (a tomboy Navy brat who had better things to do than hit horsehide with a stick); meaning, she lacked the sporty inclination of Mulder's previous exes.

Or, perhaps, the golf clubs are another manifestation of Mulder's fleeting interests after moving back stateside. Perhaps he took it up briefly, memories of his blueblood years leading him to that low impact sport first before he switched to swimming (maybe golfing was too mind numbing or it wasn't mind-numbing enough with other people interrupting his focus.)

Perhaps he took it up because Diana suggested it; or maybe he was trying to "find himself" in the wake of Phoebe cheating or Diana leaving.

However, speculations with maximum Fowley influence don't quite fit into the timeline suggested by the room's "design."

WHAT WE KNOW

(Courtesy of: @amplifyme)

What we do know is: the bed had to be the first neglected item in this room, surrounded as it is by piles of boxes, knickknacks, and junk. The golf clubs were a more recent addition-- more to the front of the line-- and look older and used. There is also upturned plastic totes, old boxes separate from the neat storage boxes in the back, a basketball hoop, a punching bag, a bowling pin-- all a bit used-- and Cougar's sports memorabilia, as well as fuzzy dice, a flat bat or rowing paddle, and newer magazines and file folders.

The bedframe is blocked in by boxes and junk on three of its sides, meaning it was the first item placed into this room. Next to it are boxes stacked professionally, and high. It's unlikely that Mulder would have done so neat a job. And the overturned totes, sports gear, and assorted mess are more recent additions-- hastily packed or thrown together, toppling and spilling out easily with one swing of the door: in other words, Mulder's work.

Thus, the stages are revealed.

The bedframe was placed first; at an undisclosed time later, the boxes were professionally placed around it; and at an undisclosed time after that, Mulder chucked in at least two totes, a lamp (he wedged into the second layer of boxes), fuzzy dice, and sports gear on top of a pullout or loveseat or fabric chair. The golf clubs fall into that addition. And lastly but also undisclosed (and likely on-going), he stuffed in light, assorted papers or shirts or whathaveyou he was too lazy to put away properly right then.

Let's break this down in layers.

EXAMINING THE EVIDENCE: BEDFRAME, BOXES, AND TIMELINES

The bedframe and boxes must be tackled first.

His bedframe is empty (though intact) and neatly set aside in the corner of the room. That seems to be stage one of unpacking and rearranging-- meaning, in my opinion, Mulder crammed the boxes in right after his and Diana's relationship ended. Mulder chooses smaller spaces to sleep (the couch, the bed he bought after Monday); and he also tends to collect but never unpack his hoarded loot. Those boxes can't be casefiles from the FBI since they'd never let him keep them longer than required for a case; and his most treasured valuables are kept in the basement, anyway. Leaving one to believe they're his belongings: things he brought over from Oxford (if he did) or things he bought after moving out of the dorms.

And when was Mulder no longer living in dorm rooms? Post his education, likely around the time he and Diana were dating.

Two theories present themselves: Mulder's things were moved from Diana's apartment after she left, and he never unpacked them; or Mulder himself recently moved into this apartment after Diana left.

The latter would have to mean he had somewhere else to live for the five years he and she were together. However, there's a few in-canon points that negate this theory, broadly pointing to a close or working relationship that spanned two apartments rather than one house:

Mulder tells Scully in Home that if he could "settle down" it'd be "in a place like this." Settling down, in his case, meant the home as well as the environment-- living in that location with those people in that kind of a house was still a fantasy without any tempered reality. Mulder would have lived in his parents' home on the Vineyard then in dorms in Oxford and back in other dorms in the States. Afterwards, the commute to the FBI would have excluded a house if in included his focus; and both he and Diana were very focused on work back then. To Mulder, owning a house was still a fantasy, not yet a practical reality, something he associated fondly with better days and better dreams for the future.

On top of that, Mulder is out of place in houses or suburbia, neither fitting in nor feeling in his own skin when prancing about in Arcadia. Yes, he was proving a point to the neighbors (and to Scully); but he wasn't comfortable there: it was too much, too spacious, too empty; and he found corners to wedge himself into-- hopping up on cabinets, hedging himself in with pillows, cramming in a chair up close to the door instead of other manners of surveillance, etc. (That's an entirely other meta post.) Mulder displayed discomfort above and beyond "proving a point": he wasn't used to the "stereotypical American life"-- he was weirded out by the austere space of it.

Mulder is further unsettled by suburbia in Amor Fati: in that case, he has command of his actions (to an extent), doesn't have to play to "the rules", has his sister, and is (seemingly) largely in charge of his life. And yet, it's "too perfect", leaving him to wonder why he's there. Mulder wasn't surprised to see Diana sweep in and seduce him (post here)-- he was shocked when she not only embraced a slower-paced life but wanted to also further domesticate it.

In Mulder's mind, settling down included a home and kids-- whether it was he and his sister riding bikes and eating bologna sandwiches or a distorted view of Diana wanting his babies and raising his sons-- and a rest from constantly running. Permanence. He looked upon it whimsically, not cynically or longingly like he would if he'd tried his best at that vision and failed (i.e. bought a home, had a "life", and lost it to work.)

In evidence of this, Mulder is shocked when Diana returns-- but not hardened against her or drawn back into a life with her. There are no ties beyond the past; and those ties weren't definitive enough for him to have closure or even completely sever, a classic Mulder move. There were five years between them; but nothing that would jeopardize or taint the idealistic world Mulder is trying to bring to fruition by recovering his sister and restoring that happy homelife lost to her abduction.

So, what does that mean for the bed and boxes? When Diana left, she probably emptied her apartment and sent over his share of the belongings-- assets of a partial but incomplete merger. Those stayed stored and cluttered around his bed while Mulder philosophically took the couch. They're not enough clutter to have filled a house, but more than enough to spill over into two apartments.

EXAMINING THE EVIDENCE: ASSORTED AND SPORTING ITEMS

But that leaves the clubs, the bowling pin, the basketball hoop, the punching bag, the rest of the etc ceteras, and the totes stacked (read: jammed) frontside.

Compared to the Cougars jersey, the golf clubs, bowling pin, punching bag, basketball hoop, etc., appear older, used, and worn.

Turns out, the Cougars are a Houston football team jersey-- and where were Mulder and Scully recently during the opening events of Fight the Future? Despite not attending yet another football game together, it would be like him to pick up memorabilia that had special significance to him about them. If that be the case, Mulder, it would seem, associates Scully with football. Perhaps she prefers it to other sports (until baseball ranked higher up her list after The Unnatural, that is)-- in fact, that would make sense: part and parcel of the stereotypical, all-American Navy family raised on Thanksgiving meals and afternoon football.

Meanwhile, the golf clubs and other sports gear can't be a recent Mulder purchase-- not only because of their wear and tear, but also because of the extent of their wear and tear in contrast to the general lack of time Mulder has to devote to sports other than a morning swim, a once-in-a-while basketball game, and the sports tv he ingests come rain or shine. We've seen him shoot hoops (Paper Hearts, later Two Fathers), we've even seen him sink a bowling ball dead center (Elegy), but we've never seen him take up golf or boxing.

So, if they aren't recent purchases... what were they?

THE REMNANTS OF CHILDHOOD

Bill Mulder was murdered in Anasazi and buried in The Blessing Way; but his house had to have been cleaned out and sold sometime after his death.

Tena Mulder always avoided peering into the past, avoiding it entirely whenever her son pressed her for memories (and ultimately burning her children's photos in Sein und Zeit to protect its secrets.) That leaves Mulder to pack up and sell or hire to have the house packed up and sold.

I believe the sports equipment was from his childhood. It would explain the wear and tear on the basketball hoop (referred to in a deleted Two Fathers scene here) and the bowling pin, as well as the presence of the unidentified sporting stick and fuzzy dice. (It would also explain why he stuck them with his new magazines and papers.)

But most importantly, I believe the golf clubs were his father's.

Golf requires a particular set of skills: silent calculation, strategic aim, and the ability to reposition oneself if the original swing goes wrong. While Mulder destresses through aggressive play (whether swimming alone or working alongside others he trusts will have his back) and Gibson Praise out predicts his competitor's next move and CSM plays by the blind hand of luck, Bill Mulder retires away from stress, decisions, and consequences, preferring to keep to himself (post here and here.) Preferring not to compete.

Perhaps the punching bag was Bill Mulder's, too: a solitary way to release his pent-up feelings of helplessness and rage.

CONCLUSION: A SEQUENCE OF EVENTS

Diana moves to Europe; and Mulder either moves out of her apartment with the bedframe (minus mattress) and boxes or moves her boxes into his bedroom (and sells the mattress he might not have liked to begin with.)

Years later, his father dies. Mulder, a packrat at heart, can't let go of the happier times he connects with his childhood gear. Tena likely wouldn't want it cluttering up her already cluttered basement; so, he shoves it into his unused bedroom, stuffing them all to the left. In the tote closest to the door, he put his easily retrievable items (i.e. magazines, rumpled shirts, fuzzy dice, a few assorted bats, and miscellaneous filing folders) that he retrieves at will.

After Mulder's return from Houston, he opens the door and chucks in the jersey. However, it disturbs the balance of his haphazard system, beginning an avalanche that he quickly closes the door against. With the door in place, disaster is avoided, for now.

A few months after that, Morris Fletcher flings the door open and watches in appalled indignation as Mulder's junk spills onto the floor.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

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mister-eames · 4 months

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"Well this is just fantastic, isn't it," he mutters, switching gears into fifth and checking the rear view again for any pursuers. They've been in the clear for the last twenty minutes but is compelled to look again anyway. "Hmm? What now?"

"Safehouse," Arthur says, clipped, distracted with his phone. "Just over the border."

"You have a contingency for everything, don't you," Eames says, aiming for breezy, but missing the target by a mile. "Bloody Arthur and his bloody back up plans."

Arthur raises his brow, but doesn't stop typing.

"I bet you had a backup plan for this too, hmm?" Eames continues, pressing the accelerator, taking his hand from the gear stick to gesture to Arthurs’ battered body.

"Can you shut up and pay attention to the road?"

"You know,” Eames ignores him, “normal people don't plan for getting hurt. You're not normal."

"Says you," Arthur sighs, finally putting the phone down.

"Yes, says me, the one who doesn't have a broken wrist and a knife wound."

"It was a letter opener."

Eames scoffs. “And you were too fucking slow.”

Arthur shifts in his seat. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing at all," he turns a corner, hard, jostling both of them. "Was that what I was, Arthur - a backup plan?"

“What?”

“Am I here as a part of your backup plan? A getaway driver?”

“Jesus,” Arthur mutters.

Out of the corner of his eye Eames sees him shake his head. He opens his mouth to speak but shuts it quickly, shaking his head again. It stokes Eames’ anger even more. Of course he’s just another piece in Arthur’s designs. Part of the strategy. Stupid of him. Of course Arthur would know that he’d be here, that he’d do anything for him. That he’d be willing to hotwire a car for him. To lead when Arthur is down.

“What? Spit it out.”

“You--” Arthur cuts himself off, jaw visibly clenched. “You’re an idiot.”

Eames scowls. “Fuck you, Arthur.”

Arthur whacks him with his good hand. “I can drive one-handed, asshole. I don’t need you here.”

"Well, let me just pull over then, since I’m clearly of no use.”

“Listen,” Arthur whacks him again, turning in his seat to lean in. “I don’t need you here. We could have split up back there, but I asked you to run with me - can you fucking think about that? Do I need to spell it out for you? You’re not a backup plan -- there. You happy?” Arthur sits back heavily in his seat, petulance radiating off of him in waves. “Asshole.”

Eames eases up on the gas as they approach a border checkpoint, going over Arthur’s words, the ire churning his gut easing bit by bit.

“You want me here,” he concludes.

Arthur remains silent.

The car slows to a stop behind a short queue of cars. Eames watches as Arthur busies himself with their passports, mouth pursed in a frown, colour high on his cheeks.

If it all goes right, they will be stuck in this safehouse of Arthur’s for at least a week. Maybe two. And thats...

... A prospect suddenly much more easier to bear. Eames smiles.

Slowly, so as to not spook him while he’s defensive, Eames extends his hand out and casually places it over Arthur’s, squeezing twice, stomach somersaulting like he’d just reached into a tigers cage. Arthur doesn’t shake him off.

The car inches forward, next in line. Eames hopes Arthur realises he means that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, even if they were in a row, or outrunning a storm of bullets. Nowhere else at all.

He thinks Arthur knows. If not, Eames will be sure to tell him properly, later.

#ash cleans out her drafts #inception #arthur x eames

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heybaetae · 5 months

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Actually, your answer was really interesting because I did not know any of these things! :D Also can I just say, even though you very rarely talk about your experience with cameras/film, it's so nice when you do! I love seeing people talk about something that they are passionate about and/or have relevant experience in.

If I remember correctly, even their bangtan bombs/eps and run bts episodes used to be better quality a few months or years ago. They obviously do not need to be as good as their docus (i love break the silence's quality AND editing so much!), but I noticed a few CCs talking about how it got worse. Why do you think they switched?

oh good i was kinda worried i came off a bit snobby with that response when i totally didn’t mean to 😭 i’m really only just speculating and applying my own knowledge of cameras to what i’ve observed, but i’m no expert and could of course be wrong. i definitely don’t claim to know better than a professional film crew, but in my experience working on sets and learning about what types of cameras work best for the overall product and will provide the best results, it’s been interesting (and frustrating as a cc lol) to see the quality steadily reduce in things like run bts and bangtan bombs. my theory as to why they’ve downgraded to cheaper cameras for those types of media in recent years? besides it being cost effective, well…frankly, they don’t have to hire people with previous experience on any type of film crew to do it. and i’m not saying they don’t have people around who know what they’re doing and are using great, high quality equipment when a situation calls for it—but i think they ALSO have inexperienced staff who they put in charge of the “b-roll” cameras for content that isn’t as prioritized as what the bigger documentary cameras pick up. so like youtube stuff for example. or even most stuff they release on memories dvds. that inexperience comes through a LOT in those videos these days, especially when it comes to simple camera settings like adjusting the white balance to the light in the room or changing the ISO to give a slightly brighter image. really simple fixes that are instead consistent nuisances. i hate to say it so bluntly but i really don’t think some of these staff are taught to use a camera properly at all seeing as they have become a bit careless about it. if you’ve ever seen fan videos from afar of the boys and you notice like one random person trailing behind some member with a small camera in one hand, that’s the kind of thing i’m talking about. proper film crew members are usually distinguishable by the bigger shoulder cams and extra gear they’re wearing, especially if there are extra bodies around them with lights and better mics. that candid footage is fine and it works in certain contexts, i’m not trying to completely disregard certain job roles because i’m sure it’s not easy trying to catch everything all the time, but for a company with so much money it’s a bit laughable how lazy, for lack of a better word, they’ve become when it comes to providing decent footage of certain moments. but sometimes it later turns out that a professional doc crew caught those same moments from other angles! i’ve noticed that happen and we’ve already seen it in one of the disney trailers with the moment they were nominated for their first grammy.

bangtan bomb, cheaper HD camera:

beyond the star doc series, 4K movie camera:

another example…

love yourself concert dvd, cheaper HD camera:

bring the soul doc series, 4K movie camera:

different qualities, aspect ratios, white balance, color grading, just overall better version for the content it was used and intended for. :)

#ask #essentially i’m saying different cameras serve it’s purpose for their intended platform at the end of the day #so if it seems like their old pre-debut footage on the new series seems really movie quality then it was a carefully decided investment #and we’re very lucky it’s finally seeing the light of day in this project

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ywpd-translations · 1 year

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Ride 708: The resolution from now on!!

Pag 1

1:400m until the peak!!

300m!!

2: Both Rokudai and Kinaka

3: aren't slowing down!!

5: …. that's this town's high school's bike club

6: Are they doing the race for the spring newcomers?

Is it already that season?

Pag 2

1: Rokudai is getting closer!!

Pag 3

3: He passed him!?

6:He got through!!

No, he fell back!! Kinaka is still in the lead!!

Pag 4

1: The match for Kinaka's pride as an experienced rider!! He'll never give up the lead!!

Pag 5

1: I'll never let you!!

2: But!! This guy!!

He has been attacking over and over again!! Rokudai the wall!!

3: I get it.... but still, I can feel it....

4: This guy

5: He's not running to get to the finish line!!

Pag 6

1: He's only thinking about passing me!!

I'll pass you

3: Nh..... gi....

4: Ah!!

5: His hands became numb and he can't even move them properly!?

Pag 7

3: Road bikes don't have suspensions, so the vibrations of road surface pass through and get to both hands, so when you first start your hands always get numb!!

4: He probably already lost his grip almost completeley

5: And yet.....

Pag 8

1: What is this will of moving forward!!

Pag 9

2: 200m left until they reach the peak!!

Pag 10

3: They collided!!

At the shoulders!!

5: Idiot, of course we'll collide if you try to pass me on the narrow inner side of the road!!

Ro.....

Pag 11

1: The guardrail....!!

…..dai?

2: He can't hear my voice.... he's just moving face on!!

4: The last thing Kei-chan told me

His “words”.....

5: Roku chan

From here on....

His “word”....

You decide

Pag 12

1: Will you “go”?

Or “stay”?

3: Ah....

4: Th.... that's!!

5: Whatever you choose, we'll support you

7: Goo Roku-chan!!

8: Yes!!

Pag 13

2: There's just 100m until the peak!!

Just 100m!!

3: Kei-chan knew, and probably Kyou-chan did too

4: I finally understood in that moment

5: I'm such a dull person, teh

6: “Passing Kinaka” in this race

Pag 14

1: Means that we won't be in the same club anymore, teh

Pag 15

2: We'll stay in this club until we make sure he surpasses that guy

3: Huh!?

That day, I was so surprised to hear that they would be joined the club

4: When I entered high school, I told myself “I'll do everything by myself”

I was so proud of myself when I found Back-gate-slope-san's club all by myself

I brushed their helping hands away and tried to do it alone

Pag 16

1: But they still supported me to the point they joined the club

4: If I give it my all, I feel like I can do it

Same!!

Oi, Roku-chan, can we chase this guy now?

5: And they stayed with me, who is still lacking, and gently lent me hand

6: Kei-chan....!!

Kyou-chan!!

Pag 17

1: “Surpassing Kinaka-kun”

2: means to “go” after this

3: And stopping my legs now.... if I don's pass Kinaka-kun

4: I can stay with Kei-chan and Kyou-chan

That's what “stay” means

5: That's unfair

6: Whatever you choose, we'll support you

If you

7: say such kind words to me

Pag 18

1: Strength wells up inside my body!!

Pag 19

7: It's the end

Pag 20

1: I want to push forward in the end!!

2: And to do that, I want a heavier gear!!

3: But....

Ngh.... I have no strength left in my hands, teh

4: That's..... move, fingers....

5: Ngh..... ugh.....

Pag 21

1: Higher!!

Pag 22

1: Rokudai switched to a higher gear!!

2: He's pushing forward!!

3: It's the final sprint!!

There are 100m left until the peak!!

#yowamushi pedal #yowapeda #yowamushi pedal manga #yowapeda manga #yowamushi pedal spoilers #yowamushi pedal translations #ride 708 #i hope this chapter will be posted without any trouble and you guys cansee it properly lol #otherwise lemme know and ill post again #especially bc its such a beautiful beautiful chapter and you guys NEED to read it ;A;#roku-chan and his friendship with kyou-chan and kei-chan is the best thing ever i swear #tbh i thought they'd end up join the bike team #but i guess not!! And i love it!!#i love that roku-chan will be doing this alone as he wanted to #even though he wont be really alone bc theyll support him every step of the way #brb gonna cry ;A;#THEYRE SO PRECIOUS #also im guessing it'll be over next chapter AND I CANT WAIT #its gonna end up like onoda's race and roku will drop out after he beats kinaka #i love the parallelism between the two races even th theyre so different #bc roku and onoda are so different #i love it love it love it #btw ps: sorry if i havent replied to some messages and asks lately!! i promise ill do it tmrw #i have so many things to do lately its honestly a miracle i can still find some time to translate

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klparkerarts · 1 month

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*My Writeblr Intro/About Me*

Katherine L. Parker - she/her - writer/author and artist - MBTI type: ISTP -

website: https://www.katherinelparker.com

My writing:

I am a multi-genre (sci-fi, fantasy, thriller, etc) writer and an artist/illustrator. I have one published book and others in draft/editing.

Tropes/Genres I like to read/write:

I am a fan of sci-fi, horror, supernatural/paranormal things, mysteries, westerns, poetry, documentaries

Tropes/Genres I don't like:

I mostly am willing to give near anything a try but I'm not a huge romance, high fantasy/magic, or academia fan however I do occasionally write/read them when the inspiration strikes/I'm interested/when necessary

Some Favorite Book Series:

Anything thicc, I love long cozy books but here are some current favorite series:

The Expanse (haven't watched the TV show yet) - James S.A. Corey

The Donovan Series (wish it was a TV show) - W. Michael Gear

In Her Name - Michael R. Hicks

Other things/interests: Fashion design, outdoors, cooking, nature and plants, reading

You can find me on social media: Twitter Tumblr Youtube Newgrounds Instagram All @ klparkerarts

Books:

Available in ebook and paperback currently

Lastly, A Note About My Art:

I used to draw/paint digitally until a serious injury to my dominant writing arm/hand forced me back to almost exclusively using traditional media/methods (I can't hold a stylus pen for tablets properly anymore), if there is anyone long term following me wondering about the switch. I had to relearn drawing and now I mostly work with markers and occasionally watercolors and acrylics. My style is mostly illustrative character art. My Pearl in the Deep cover was the last digital art I made.

Some of My Current Best Art:

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ashthedrawer · 12 days

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•OC FICLET•

Masterlist | Characters: Della (she/her), Haven (she/they), Atiah (he/him), Borislava (she/her), Rory (they/she), Kuali’i (he/him), Haru (he/him), Reese (they/them)

Characters all belong to @jiphenn

“BREAKING NEWS.”

Della clicked the TV on, the last channel they’d watched crackling through the speakers: the news. A reporter stood in front of the screen, mic held up to their face, their expression grim. “At this current moment the RoseWood Diole camp is being broken into.” The screen panned towards a video of a large dark gray building, rising high up into the sky. It was an eyesore, brick upon brick of a dull, lifeless gray stone, void of any windows. It looked like a prison. At least, it must’ve originally looked like one, but now the building was falling apart, explosions rising up all around it, tearing it to bits. Dust and rubble flew everywhere, bullets spraying at all directions. “This is the first time in history for a Diole Camp to be broken into. Due to the attack at the warehouses, Diole camps everywhere have been struggling to receive enough gas and serum. This has given Dioles an opening to attack the camp.”

It switched to another video, security camera footage from inside the building playing before them. A worker stood guard in front of one of the doors, gun strapped tightly to their chest. They were heavily suited up, a thick black helmet obscuring their face from view, heavy black protective gear tightened around their chest, another shiny black gun at their hip. Suddenly, a bright light formed vertically from their head down, like some sort of beam. A door materialized from it, and with it the guard was ripped to pieces. Their body was torn in half, blood and guts exploding out, splattering the walls in bright red.

The door swung open, and from the milky galaxy of the background, emerged a familiar figure.

Haven.

She glanced up at the security camera, hazel eyes twinkling. “Watch this.” She mouthed, before turning around and brutally killing more guards. It was a bloodbath, guts and brain matter and flesh torn to slices, scattered around the floor. Meanwhile Haven continued on, her hands stained sickeningly red.

The screen switched back to the news reporter. “We urge all individuals who live near the area to stay at home and be prepared. If these Dioles do manage to escape then they are a danger to everyone.”

The screen panned to more security camera footage. Familiar faces popped up, running through the crimson-stained halls with the rest of the Dioles, wiping out more guards: Atiah, Borislava, Rory and Kuali’i.

Della grabbed the remote and switched the channel back to her cartoon, unable to look at the absolute massacre any longer. Haru stood up, sprinting to the kitchen to call Cora. “Did you see the news? It’s not safe for you to be out!”

Reese trailed off behind him, pulling the phone from his hands. “Hi honey. Mhm. Please come home as soon as you can.” Their voice was much calmer than Haru’s. “Call us if anything happens. Mhm. Be safe.” They set the phone back on the wall with a click.

“They need to leave this place.” Haru’s voice was abrupt, words tumbling out before Reese could even properly register them.

“What?”

“They need to leave.” He repeated, his tone harsh. “This place is swimming with targets for Paradise. It’s unsafe for everyone here.”

“We can’t kick out a bunch of teenagers. Plus Cora wouldn’t let us.” Reese responded, their voice unwavering.

“It’s not our responsibility to look after them.”

“Yes, but wouldn’t you feel bad kicking them out?”

“They aren’t beneficial to us in any way.”

“You can make them beneficial.” Reese reasoned.

“No,” Haru’s answer was immediate. “I’m not training them.”

“You don’t have to fight, just give them pointers and stuff.”

“Even if I did that I’m sure the current Top Five could take all of us out.” Haru argued.

“You don’t know if you don’t try. You’re a good teacher.”

“All my representatives die.”

“Well that’s cause you fight them.”

“I can’t control my temper. I might kill one of them.”

“I’ll be there with you.”

Haru fell silent. “I’ll think about it.”

“Take your time. They still got a couple weeks to go before they can pester you again.”

“If I kill one of them then you can’t blame it on me.”

“I won’t. It’ll be all my fault.” Reese said.

“No,” Haru corrected. “It’ll be our fault.”

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bethrnoora · 1 month

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For the TES OC ask game: 6 & 10?

6 - If you could give them one modern amenity, which one would you give them and why?

the temptation to give someone a gun...no but honestly i kiiinda wanna give Hiisi a motorcycle. like. i dont know. it just feels really right for him he would be such a fucking menace with it and put a bunch of edgy decals and a custom plate on it. you don't even need a license plate in skyrim but he'd get one just to be obnoxious.

Anfisa gets a smartphone or computer to look up whatever she wants whenever she wants <3 and also send eloquently worded anonymous hate messages to people who don't cite their research properly. and also to ancano if he had a blog she thinks he's a hack excuse for a wizard

10 - What's a seemingly minor decision they made that would up majorly impacting their life?

this one stumped me for a little bit and I think the "easy" answer is the fact that both Hiisi and Anfisa kind of just. wandered over the Skyrim border out of desperation and curiosity, respectively, and then had All That happen to them. but I kinda wanna switch gears to Dar'jivay, my Vestige character from ESO who has admittedly made a lot of um. large decisions that then majorly affected his life. but what comes to mind is the fact that he started taking on jobs as a guide to antiquarians in the area in order to better support his family. it started as a relatively simple decision and task since he's a pretty experienced navigator, but he wound up taking jobs that strayed further and further from his hometown, and led him to be away from his family for much longer periods of time, not even really thinking much of it because he was so enthralled by the experience of seeing new parts of Tamriel.

eventually it just sort of ended up that he never went home one day, and stayed out in the Hammerfell/High Rock area serving as basically a guard for archaeological/antiquarian expeditions. his daughter Zo'aysha grew up without him in the picture for over a decade, and pretty close to the start of the time frame of ESO his wife Rashaavi dies of the Khnahaten Flu and he has absolutely no idea (until Zo'aysha finds and confronts him in Auridon and it all starts to set in that oh shit I fucked up their lives)

#ask #sorry this took so long!!! i was struggling w an answer for 10 lmao #hiisi #anfisa #dar'jivay

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namelesspastel · 8 months

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Eternally Yours: Chapter 1

Miyano Yoshikazu is an Omega. Sasaki Shuumei is an Alpha. Them hanging out together shouldn't cause any problems, right?

In this world, there are 3 different sexes you are born with, in addition to your normal sex. You have male and female. And then you have Alpha, Beta and Omega.

Alphas are the top of the food chain. They’re (typically) smart, good looking and good at just about everything they put their mind to. If we put a label on them, they’d be the Uncommon to Rare type.

Betas are average. They’re just normal people who don’t have to deal with things like pheromones or heats or ruts. They’re the most common and take up a large portion of the population.

Lastly, you have Omegas. Omegas used to be at the bottom of the pyramid due to their heat cycles and inability to control their pheromones. They couldn’t work for very long because heats tend to last a week and sometimes they could be unstable and their heats can come at random. Although nowadays, they’re about on par with Betas in terms of social standing thanks to the medications that have come out. Now the main difference is that Omegas have a super high fertility rate. If we put a label on them, female omegas are on the Super Rare tier while male Omegas are on the Ultra Rare tier.

I am Miyano Yoshikazu and I am an Omega.

My mom tells me stories sometimes about how it was when she was a kid, about how parents of Omega children would apologize to them for being born an Omega. She remembers how her mom cried when she found out her daughter was an Omega and how growing up people kept her at a distance, even though it wasn’t something she could control.

It’s not like that now though. Medicine and suppressants have come a long way and now, as long as an Omega is properly taking their meds (it’s now a daily pill instead of an injection that you use once your heat starts), they can live totally normal lives.

“Yoshi-kun?” My mom knocked on the door to my room as I was getting all my things together. “Are you up? You don’t want to be late for school,”

“Yes, I’m coming!” I called out and grabbed the few things I had left on my desk and shoved them into my bag.

I quickly went to the kitchen and sat down as my dad also came to the table. My mom set the last of breakfast onto the table and sat down herself, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Yoshi-kun?”

“I’ll be fine, mom.”

“Relax, dear,” My dad said, gently taking her hand. “He’s been taking his medicine. He’ll be fine. It’s not like it was when we were kids,”

“Oh, I know. But this is a mixed school. It’s not just Betas and Omegas, it’s Alphas, too!” My mom cried.

“Mom, I’ll be fine. This school is known for being super safe for Omegas even though they have Alphas. And it’s not like I haven’t been around Alphas before,”

“Sure, but the only Alpha you’re constantly around is your father. That’s very different from an Alpha you met in school.” She said and I sighed and shared a look with my dad. He shrugged. There wasn’t really anything we could do to abate her worries.

And what she said was true. My dad was an Alpha and my mom was an Omega. They weren’t fated to be together or anything like that, as they liked to say, my mom just happened to be an Omega and my dad just happened to be an Alpha. Even if one or both of them were a different sex, they liked to say they would have still ended up together.

“Oh! If you don’t hurry you’re going to be late. Both of you,” My mom suddenly switched gears and quickly cleaned up our finished breakfast.

I went to the front door while my dad went go to collect the things he needed for work. “I’m off!” I called out to them.

***

“Take care!” My mom waved from the kitchen, trying her best to hide her worry. I waved back and made my way to the train station.

I had made sure to leave some extra time just in case something happened, and luckily got to the station with time to spare. The last thing I wanted was to be late on my first day of high school. I got on the train once it pulled in and after a quick glance, saw that the majority of the seats were taken, despite the early hour. I debated going onto the Omega only car but decided against it, just in case anyone from my new school saw me. I personally didn’t care that I was an Omega but I still didn’t want it broadcasted to the entire student body.

I sighed and pulled out the student handbook. It wasn’t a very long train ride to the station at the school but it wasn’t a short one either and it wasn’t like I could bring my manga with me to school. The train stopped twice and on the second stop, as the doors slowly opened I smelled… something. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell and it wasn’t overpowering or anything like that but it caught my attention all the same. I looked up, trying to figure out where it was coming from when my eyes landed on a very tall man with dyed brown hair and piercings standing on the platform on the other side of the door, looking just as confused as I was.

He was covering his nose but when he looked up our eyes locked and I froze. His eyes went from cold and hard to soft and warm in an instant and I quickly felt a heat rising on the nape of my neck as my heart began to pound. We stared at each other like that, completely frozen until the doors shut and the train began to move again.

I took a deep, shaky breath as I was suddenly able to move again, and put a hand over my heart, trying to calm it down. It still felt like my heart was trying to jump out of my chest.

“Are you okay?” A woman asked with concern, as apparently seeing me crouched over and clutching my chest. I tried to respond but my voice got stuck in my throat and all I could do was shake my head. They seemed to realize something was wrong and quickly guided me to the door to the Omega car and helped get settled there. The woman got off the train before I did, but said to go to an attendant at the next stop if I didn’t feel better, but luckily, sitting down really helped. I fanned myself with my student notebook, trying my best to delay the fever that had suddenly hit me. By the time the train stopped at the correct station, I was feeling completely normal… minus the confusion about what had caused those sudden symptoms in the first place.

If you enjoyed that read the full thing here!

#sasaki and miyano #sasaki to miyano #sasaki shuumei #miyano yoshikazu #fanfic #omegaverse au #writing #sasamiya #ssmy

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idiotwhotalkstoomuch · 2 years

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Okay so I never ended up finishing this fic because life and Im just stumped. This fic is Shinjuro reacting to Senjuro’s disappearance from his school during the demon attack and I wish I got to finish it but I can’t keep working on smth I ultimately am not progressing. Maybe in the future but as of now, this is as far as this fic is going. Feel free to critique it though keep in mind I never fully explored how Shinjuro reacted to the grief he was suddenly shoved with.

-----

Shinjuro gave a look of annoyance at the crow he didn’t recognize that was flying towards him as he put on his sandals to get ready to leave for Senjuro’s school.

It’s long past since Senjuro should’ve gone home and alcohol helped him forget many things, but it didn’t let him forget about how horrible he’s been as a father to his boys wasn’t one of them.(Ruka would definitely scold his ear off for how he’s been acting with their sons since her death) He’s well aware he’s lacking as a father and despite feeling the haziness and dulling of his senses from the several bottles he had drank moments ago, he’s not going to let his youngest son walk home this late at night when demons will be crawling around ready to attack at this point.

He scowled as the crow started cawing loudly, clearly trying to get his attention as he adjusted his sword to be easy to pull out if any demons were to attack. He was probably too drunk to go out and pick up his son but he was definitely not drunk enough to have to tolerate a kasuragi crow at the moment. Seeing he was ignoring it, the insufferable creature decided to resort to attacking him with its claws, yelling for his attention and getting fed up, he snapped and finally decided to hear the crow out. The crow wasn’t Kyojuro’s but knowing his persistent son he probably decided to use a different crow to send his daily message to him because his own crow was occupied or he knows Shinjuro ignores every single message from his crow. If it was the latter, Kyojuro was clever but not clever enough.

Hopefully his son would be less likely to send these ridiculous messages when he finds out Shinjuro’s going out this late at night just to see where Senjuro decided to wander off to today. Then again, hearing his little brother didn’t go straight home from school might make him fuss that he needs to keep a closer eye on Senjuro when the kid is just being rebellious or lost track of time on a book from his friends or something else mundane like that. He had a couple of friends at school so he might just be staying at a friend’s home and didn’t bother to get permission from his old man given he would probably be too drunk to care.

“I advise you to sit down for this” the crow squawked. Shinjuro scoffed, he’s a grown adult and former pillar not a child still clutching onto their mother’s hand. He doesn't need to sit down for a message from his son or anyone from the Demon slayer corps.

“A demon attack occurred at the school your youngest son, Senjuro studies in-”

The disdain and indignation Shinjuro felt immediately drained out of him as he stared blankly in shock at the crow. The haziness in his mind had vanished and his senses switched into high gear. His head throbbed at the sudden switch.

“Only one survivor was found, a young boy who was slacking off from his duties to clean the classroom in the bathroom. The bodies of the children and teacher are all being collected by the kakushi to be buried properly by their families-”

His stomach dropped at the thought members of the kakushi might be making their way to the Rengoku estate with his twelve year old son in tow to be buried. It was nauseating to think of and Shinjuro wondered if he was going to be sick. He swallowed that nauseating fear as he refused to let any weakness he felt at the thought of his frail and helpless twelve year old son dead at the hands of a demon show in front of a messenger crow of all things when he isn’t even sure who sent this message. Perhaps that girl Kyojuro took under his wing at one point? Or was it another demon slayer who was friends with his son? Kyojuro was popular with his colleagues from what he could gather from the few letters or messages he sent that Shinjuro bothered to pay attention to.

“All bodies were accounted for except for Senjuro’s who could not be found among the bodies by any kakushi; however a blood trail leading to near the entrance of the school was found. The demon slayer who defeated the demon that attacked the poor children and teachers think your son tried to run and get help as one of the children asked moments before dying if they were friends with Senjuro.”

Shinjuro’s stomach churns at the thought of how many victims there were in the attack and just how young they all were. Senjuro never brought any of his peers over to their house but they had to be around his age so somewhere between the ages of 11-13. Wretched demons, they’d kill even children just to fulfill their nasty cravings for human flesh.

A part of him feels proud that his son recognized he couldn’t fight the demon especially unarmed so ran out to get help but the fact that the help that arrived wasn’t from him squashes that feeling like an ant because what’s the point in doing the smart thing if the smart thing lead to his son being missing and possibly even dead.

Senjuro knows the path from their estate to his school, he’s memorized it by heart by now. He knows where to go if there’s a demon attack, Shinjuro is retired sure and out of practice but he would’ve gone down there or contacted demon slayers to go to the school and easily kill the demon. He might not have believed his son at first when he comes rushing in shouting there’s demons or be entirely lucid but Senjuro’s never done things like cry wolf for attention. The blood trail likely being from Senjuro would mean he was injured so it would’ve made his pleas for help more credible.

“I have currently dispatched several demon slayers to try and locate your son and any straggler demons in the area. The school is planning to host a funeral for the deceased students and teachers however Senjuro will not be included as we still hold hope he may be alive. I will keep you informed on our findings if you decide not to go to the demon slayer corps and become personally involved in the search. I know your son, Kyojuro, says this often but please do take care of your health, Rengoku.”

The crow, having finished its message, flew off, leaving Shinjuro in front of his estate, nauseated and left to stew on the message he just received. The sound of the crow’s wings flapping grew quieter as the reality of what he just heard really dawned on Shinjuro.

Senjuro, his youngest son, the baby of the family was…

His hand gripped the wall as the thought of Senjuro being reduced to a bloodied corpse and possible scenarios on what might've happened entered his mind. How viciously would the demon have attacked a boy who as far as he knew was just running for their life? Would he have simply dealt a single fatal blow that let Senjuro run far but not far enough to get help? Did he leave Senjuro so viciously savaged he thought the boy was dead, hence why he even managed to run in the first place? Was the demon slayer who stopped the demon wrong about what Senjuro did during the attack? People who were dying never said the most lucid things so the dying child might’ve just been looking for at least someone they can trust to cling onto as they took their last breaths.

None of these thoughts explained why his son’s body was missing, even if he was viciously mauled beyond recognition, the kakushi should’ve found something they at least suspect to be his missing boy. The only reason they would be unable to find a body was if..

The demon ate him down to his bones.

An involuntary growl surfaced from Shinjuro as he imagined the horrid beast pulling the corpse of his dead son to his mouth before feasting on the child’s body. To many this image would be too grizzly for someone to even fathom but he had worked as a demon slayer. Demons would do anything to sate their hunger, whether it’s kill an old woman or a newborn baby. They even had preferences sometimes for what kind of people they ate, some only specifically eating young women, others only desiring fully grown adults for their meals and a few even feasting on children when it’s impractical because children had less meat and nutrients in their body to properly feed a starving demon.

Was that why the demon attacked a classroom full of them? Sneak attacking one after they all dispersed wouldn’t have fed it enough so it decided to attack all of them like they were some sort of buffet laid out for it and not children who were only there at that time because their duties as students of their school dictated they must do their part to make sure the school was clean.

The thought of so much death made his mind swirl with memories of his late wife’s passing. She had gotten ill and never recovered. No medicine, bedrest or prayer to the gods had helped her and so she slowly passed away with her family surrounding her, Kyojuro, in tears and on the verge of breaking down and Senjuro simply being confused over what was wrong, innocently asking why everyone was crying over his mother going to sleep, not understanding that Ruka’s sleep would be permanent.

Alcohol had been his only escape from the hellscape that was a life without Ruka. He tried to be the dad she would’ve wanted for her boys but it never worked, he would always see her in them by simply looking into their eyes and how they resembled her in every way that mattered. He had resigned himself to the fact he would never be with them emotionally with how much of a wreck his own emotions were but he determined he could at least keep them alive in the cruel world they lived in.

So much for that…

Without much thought, he found himself back in his room with his bottles of alcohol laying at the side, waiting for him to grab one and empty in a few gulps. The temptation to down an entire bottle was strong and he had decided one bottle wouldn’t hurt…

The bottle was getting to his lips but then as quickly as he moved to down it, was placed back with the rest of them. Shinjuro wasn’t sure why he was expecting Senjuro to have a sort of sixth sense for when he was drinking but it was how their dynamic worked. He would get the urge to drink late at night and Senjuro would suddenly open the door to ask if he wanted to eat dinner or if he could help get a book from their library that he couldn’t reach yet with his small stature. It was almost comforting when Senjuro would bother him all the time, his mere presence reminding Shinjuro why he shouldn’t just end it to join the love of his life.

A wave of sickness hit him remembering what that wretched demon could’ve done to his boy.

Senjuro isn’t dead, he’s simply missing. Shinjuro repeatedly reminded himself. Ignoring the voice in his head telling him that the demon had devoured his son completely, uncaring over the fact this would leave the dead child with no body for his family to bury. No corpse to give a proper burial to for his family to mourn the twelve year old boy who had so much ahead of him. The crow said the corps was looking for him, perhaps he wasn’t able to get help from the corps because he collapsed from his injuries and stayed in the nearby village to recover and get better. It would explain the blood trail and why they couldn’t find him. He was laying in another’s house, wrapped up in bandages to stop his wounds from bleeding, patiently waiting for when he could be well enough to return home or writing a letter so someone from the village could walk to the Rengoku estate and tell him where his whereabouts were and why he was staying somewhere else rather than their home.

Feeling sure of his theory, the former pillar left his bedroom and took a walk in the garden area.

His son is fine. He’s just resting due to some severe but not fatal wounds with a doctor from the nearby village tending to his injuries so he can recover from the blood loss he experienced.

When he got home, perhaps Shinjuro would take over chores for a bit, stretch his legs out so Senjuro could recover from his injuries before he resumed his usual duties in the estate. Then again he doesn’t even know how to cook, he would need to hire servants for that given it was always Ruka or one of his boys who cooked their meals.

Maybe Kyojuro would even join in to help take care of his brother or take the duties of homemaker while Shinjuro nursed Senjuro. He wasn’t as knowledgeable as an actual doctor but basic medical knowledge is essential to even survive against enough demons to become a pillar. There’s no point in being able to slay a hundred demons if you’re left a mangled and devastated wreck, becoming a body only waiting for death’s cold embrace to free you from your injuries and pain.

At the thought of his days as a pillar, he was reminded that he would need to send a message back to the demon slayer corps.

Who would he address it to? Before he could recognize many of the crows of the demon slayer corps but only Kyojuro wrote to him anymore so he had no clue who the owner of the crow was.

(NEVER GOT AROUND TO WRITING THE TRANSITION FROM DENIAL TO MY SON IS GONE)

He wasn’t bothered by the loud clacking his sandals made as he rushed around the house, trying to find his long retired crow.

It had been almost a decade since he stopped using the bird and it was probably terribly out of shape but there wasn’t any time to wait for Kyojuro to come home. Pillar missions were never consistent in how long they took, ranging from a single day to an entire month. Senjuro could be reduced to a bloody mess during that time. He was young, defenseless and injured, a demon’s ideal snack. Every second he wasted finding that bird, another second Senjuro bled out from his injuries.

The crow appeared to be rather old now at this point and hadn’t worked in years, simply spending its days in the Rengoku estate, occasionally leaving for its own business and its eyes widened in surprise to see Shinjuro had visited it rather than Kyojuro or Senjuro, who were the ones that cared for it when Shinjuro stopped caring about it.

“I need you to send a message to Kyojuro, immediately. Tell him he needs to get home at once, Senjuro is missing.”

He snarled when he saw the crow was wasting time standing there in shock, snapping it out of its shock and it saluted before leaving to accomplish its first mission from Shinjuro since he retired.

Briefly resting his hand on his sword scabbard, he fastened the lock to the estate doors. It was time to find his son.

Notes:

The one who sent the crow was Ubuyashiki

The child who asked about Senjuro was a girl who had a mutual crush with Senjuro. Her name was Yuuka (She was created by @angstandhappiness Sorry for giving credit late, my bad)

I was thinking of including him breaking down and crying immediately but Shinjuro is the type of person to sit in denial till its essentially confirmed

#demon slayer #shinjuro rengoku #rengoku shinjuro #senjuro rengoku #rengoku senjuro #demon senjuro au

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fox-buried-in-maple-leaves · 8 months

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THIS ask list with ohm. please. with the cut & clothes section. and accessories & accents. i'm observing him i'm rotating him

Ask Game!

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

Ohm tends to wear boxers and a loose shirt to sleep. He kind of looks like every female love interest in a bad romcom ngl. Sometimes he sleeps naked though if he hasn't done laundry yet, he doesn't care lol.

day: What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

He typically wears an ankle length overcoat with a black shirt and black pants underneath it. He also wears elbow length leather gloves, a belt, heavy boots, and a black somewhat tattered scarf. He spends so much time dealing with sick people, he prefers to have most of his skin covered. But if he isn't working, he might switch things up! Or ditch his upper layer in general.

formal: What's your OC's formal look? Do they like dressing up? Do they have different looks for different occasions?

He'll usually wear his full doctor's garb, including his mask, when he has to dress up. His position is respected, he dresses for it. It isn't that different from his day to day wear, honestly. He doesn't really like dressing up properly in "fancy" clothes. It just isn't him, really..

informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

A dark grey blouse, black pants, boots, and shorter leather gloves. He'll wear less layers overall. Those beautiful pirate shirts, ykwim?

outerwear: What's your OC's outerwear situation? Jacket, sweater, cloak? What sort of weather do they deal with most and how do they protect themselves?

He has a short leather cape over his overcoat, it helps with the rain. If he knows its raining though, he'll bring an umbrella.

footwear: What does your OC wear on their feet?

BOOTS!!! Always. The buttons r lil suns.

road: What does your OC wear while traveling? Do they have high-quality equipment, or are they making do? What does their gear look like?

Literally the same shit but now he's got a sword attached to his hip lol. He also wears armour between his under layer and his overcoat. His gear isn't like, the best, but it isn't bad either. Mid.

armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?

It's some good quality studded leather armour. Because I don't care if that didn't really exist. It does here. Anyways it is well kept. He just bought it one day and now he has it.

arms: Does your OC have any weapons? What weapons do they carry, and how do they wear them when they're not fighting?

He's got a very nice zweihander. He also has a couple of daggers. The zweihander has a holster on his hip opposite to his book that he can attach or detach from his belt, depending if he needs his sword. And his daggers are just. On his person. Don't worry about it.

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

I mean his general outfit is "futuristic steampunk plague doctor" while maintaining a much more dated look than the other characters currently designed.

texture: Does your OC favor any specific kinds of cloth or textures? Is there anything they can't wear or don't like? What sort of fabrics do they prefer?

He likes soft heavy textures. They make him feel bundled and safe. Hates wool.. Blegh.

wardrobe: How big is your character's wardrobe? Do they wear things threadbare, or can they afford new clothes often? Are they any good at mending and repairing their own clothing?

Ohm has a decent amount of clothes, it's just all the same clothes! He likes what he likes. And that's blouses and tight pants. He'll mend his own clothes, but every couple of months he might buy something if he sees it and likes it. He has money.

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

Star shaped earrings and a sun shaped pendant. The sun shaped pendant is the matching counterpart to his brother's moon shaped one. And it means a lot to him.

hair: How does your OC wear their hair? Does it have some kind of meaning?

BRAIDSSSS it. Usually with a navy blue ribbon tying it off.

makeup: Does your OC wear makeup? How often? What kind? Why do they wear makeup, and do they like it?

Sometimes! Usually just kohl around his eyes. But sometimes he'll do something fancy if he's feeling up to it! He likes it.

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

His pendant for sure. The matching set was a gift from their parents. He wears it every day and keeps it very safe. If anyone reaches for it, he grabs their wrist and stops them lol

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

I feel it was less drastic and just changed with time. But the scars and markings on his face certainly count since he got a lot of them in a short period of time. He isn't.. A fan, really.. But, it is what it is.

alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU!

Mm modern Ohm in his leather jacket and ripped jeans and hiking boots my beloved... <3

#☾*✲⋆. essence of myrrh #from the fate ; ash #⋆｡°✩ Ohm #༺☆༻ Amant Éternel

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valdiis · 2 years

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Prompt #5: Cutting Corners

Vy’thanis stared at the opal before him. It was unlike any opal he’d ever cut in his life: larger, more precious, and most importantly...living. Stretched out on the table between himself and another Duskwight were two arms, opal up to the elbow, yet fully movable and attached to their owner. One was nearly raw in form, the shapes vague but serviceable and the entire arm banded ‘round in silver wire. The other had been crudely cut, some refinement in the design and bound up in gold banding reminiscent of a mammet’s gears. Neither binding would do.

After some brief conversation with the other, a course of action was settled upon. Trust was given. Vy’thanis pulled out his wire snips and went to work on the nearly raw arm first. His patient had potions for the pain, alcohol too. He could only hope it would be enough. This was no job for cutting corners or being too conservative either. A perfect balance had to be struck to get the delicate stone properly shaped into a functional hand and stable enough to not require the metal bindings that hindered use.

Once the wire was cut free, Vyth took a deep breath. He pulled over his water streamer and a tiny grinder. With his special talent for stonework, he would be using both less than one might expect, but he couldn’t whisper all the rough stone away. He apologized to his companion for the surety of discomfort he was about to cause, then set to removing the largest pieces of errant stone erupting from the original shape of a hand. Before long, he was able to switch methods to his own talent.

Vy’thanis bent to the stone and smoothed his fingertips over it, sensing where the shape needed to be brought out from the stone. He sent his senses deeper, feeling the bonds which held the stone together. His sense stopped where the opal thinned out into a body, but the outer layers belonged to him in that way only stone could. With a little hum, he concentrated on the minuscule connections between the stone and itself (atoms, though he did not know to call them that), and with his bare fingertips began sloughing off that which did not serve the intended shape of the stone. It was slow and delicate work, made harder for the high water content of the stone, but it did proceed apace. Through his magic instead of his tools, he shaped the other Duskwight’s hand until it was properly, professionally formed.

Sweat beaded his brow when he finally sat back, piles of stone dust surrounding the gleaming arm. He gave the other a tired smile and they discussed the next course of action: the other arm. Would there be enough alcohol to dull the work? Would there be enough stamina to complete it in one sitting?

Vyth was resolute. He would complete the work. No cutting corners. With a steadying breath, he bent forward again and set to coaxing the true shape from living stone.

(Yes, @adeerinnara-blog, I know we RPed this all out years ago. I tried to keep it vague enough to not go off canon. I just wanted to write a bit of stone shaping. :) )

#FFxivWrite2022 #FFxivWrite #FFXIV #Elezen #writing #Vy'thanis Lusignon

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reddus-sideblog · 2 years

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M.E.R.C.s - Crossfire (Part 2)

“Lowe, it’s Ariadne. I’m in place. Get moving.”

Mellie dragged her hand through her long, unruly black hair before taking a breath to steady herself. She hefted her massive high-frequency weapon over her shoulder before touching the headset hooked around her pointed ear.

“Right.”

She turned to the other two M.E.R.C.s in the back of the rented delivery truck as she lifted the shutter to the rear cargo hold, “Holly, Terry, let’s go.”

The large devilkin, calico catgirl, and the scruffy human hopped out of the back of the vehicle and ran for the secure-access elevator that they had parked near. Despite being weighed down by gear the three of them made a brisk pace across the underground parking garage, their footsteps accompanied by the jangling and rustling of their equipment. As the trio approached the armored doors they slid open with a hiss, allowing them to rush in quickly.

“You knyow, I don’t think Ari’s ever been late when we’re running on a schedule,” said the catperson, checking the two hefty satchels she was carrying.

Her black and orange tail, tipped by a white splotch at the end, twitched in excitement as she surveyed the mess of wires, switches, and electronics bundled together in the packs she had brought with her. The two satchels were definitely the heaviest payloads that she was carrying, but the lithe chimera was also sporting a thin but concealing coat, which jangled ominously with her every movement.

“She likes her schedules, I mean she probably has a clock in her head, right?” pondered Mellie.

“Nyeah and a rod up her ass…” muttered Holiday.

The man next to the chimera, and in front of the devilkin, stared straight ahead into the elevator doors. He was armed with a few grenades, but only some expensive chaff-filled ones that sat next to extra petro-fuel canisters for his high-frequency axe. The human looked the part of a killer for hire, but something about him bothered Mellie in a way she couldn’t easily define. He looked perfectly normal, aside from his face being stitched up like he had recently survived a mauling. Terry was just another human man with stubble and scruffy, short black hair. His most defining feature, aside from the stiches, was his single cybernetic eye, and apart from that he distinguished himself very little from any other person Mellie had worked alongside over her mercenary career.

The devilkin adjusted the Mercenary-Contractor Association star on her body armor, making sure it was properly secured. Mellie’s armor covered most of her body. The ballistic armor was reinforced by strips of Hellforged metal, each with spikes that pointed out of her armor, giving off a fierce, Infernalite appearance. Her M-CA badge was secured to the middle of her chest, and each of her companions wore one too. Terry had his fastened to his left arm with a length of red ribbon, and Holiday wore hers as a belt buckle on her shorts. Keeping the heraldry of their mercenary contracting organization prominent was important, as it deferred legal ramifications of their actions to the organization they worked for.

Mellie liked Cash and Karsyn a lot more than Terry, but Bones was the one that called the shots for their team. He had assigned Terry to their group, so she wouldn’t argue about it. Even back when it had just been a four man team the older mercenary had made use of his subordinates with particularly clever strategies. If he said they needed extra M.E.R.C.s to get the job done then he knew best. It did almost feel like Bones had picked random mercenaries from a stack of M-CA contractors to Mellie, though.

The elevator slowed as it rolled up to the twentieth floor, labeled “Management Offices and Boardrooms”. The doors swung open and Holiday leapt out.

“This myust be my stop, I’ll just be a meowment!” proclaimed the explosives expert as she left the elevator.

The doors closed behind her, no doubt at the behest of the team’s android hacker. After a few minutes they opened once more, and Holiday, now two satchels lighter, pranced into the elevator. She shed her coat, revealing her truly enormous payload of deadly devices. Strapped across the calico catgirl’s chest was a bandoleer and belt weighed down by explosives of various types, ranging from high-explosive plastique charges to fragmentation grenades to incendiary bombs and even a couple of smoke grenades for good measure. Along with the ordnance she also had a number of wire spools, detonators, a roll of duct tape, and small pistol.

“Nyalright boltie, get us up to the top floor, we have business with the bossman,” declared Holiday into the camera in the corner of the elevator.

The elevator juddered for a second, sending the chimera sprawling before it started upwards rapidly. Mellie pursed her lips as she tried not to smile while helping her friend up. Terry watched the whole scene unfold before him blankly.

“There are still twenty minutes left on the file transfer, Lowe,” came Ariadne’s voice in Mellie’s ear.

“Gotcha, I’m sure that we can keep them busy for that long,” she replied.

“Make some noise, girls! Uh, and you too Terry,” exclaimed Bones through the radio.

Terry grunted an affirmative.

The M.E.R.C.s exploded out of the elevator when it reached the twenty fifth floor, with Holiday leading the charge. The elevator opened to the wide open, tiled floor that was populated by a handful of suit-wearing Power Motors Incorporated higher ups and a half dozen corporate security. None of them were quite ready for the high-explosive grenade that clinked and rolled across the floor into their midst.

The deafening bang of the device was like the report of a starting pistol. Before the dust settled Terry and Mellie had readied their weapons. Terry’s HF axe and Mellie’s huge, chainsaw-bladed HF greatsword roared to life as the two strode forwards, gunning their throttles. On the opposite side of the antechamber one of the corpsecs, bleeding from a number of lacerations given by shards of exploded tile, drew his pistol and began firing wildly at the mercenaries.

One of the shots actually landed. Mellie stopped in her tracks for a moment. The nine millimeter bullet had glanced off of one of the hellforged plates of her armor and gone right between two of her ribs. Across the lobby the security guard looked incredulous, unable to believe his luck.

“More where that came from, sootlicker!” he cried, his spirits raised by the lucky strike.

Emboldened by his successful hit he began unloading on the large, armored devilkin, even while she charged at him. He fired an entire magazine into the oncoming mercenary, and got part way through another one before her huge high-frequency weapon slammed down on his wrist.

“Knock it off!” she yelled, her ire clearly stoked.

The whirring teeth ripped right through the corpsec’s wrist, tearing apart skin, flesh, tendons, and bones like some sort of nightmarish industrial tool of mutilation. The force of Mellie’s strike bowled over the security officer, sprawling him onto the floor as his newly severed hand also tumbled across the tile floor, his pistol still clutched in hand. Once he finally realized what was happening he began screaming, joining the chorus of terrified voices that were caught up in the mercenary’s storm of violence.

Mellie quickly scanned across the lobby, Holiday was nowhere to be seen but Terry was making short work of one of the stunned corpsecs, while two horrified suits looked on in terror. Behind him one of the corpsecs hit by Holiday’s initial salvo stirred, and unholstered his weapon. Mellie’s feet were already in motion as she watched the laser blade activate.

The devilkin crashed into the guard like a freight train trying to make up for lost time. As she clenched the throttle the wickedly spiked weapon roared, and the chain of serrated teeth made cut after cut. First cloth, then armor, then skin and flesh, then bones and organs. The HF greatsword tore into the corpsec like a bloodthirsty demon, emerging on the other side of his torso in less than a second, coated in a slick new paint job of gore and crimson blood. A mess of meat, guts, and man were strewn in front of Mellie as she finished the sweep of her gigantic blade. The screaming only escalated, joined by a single voice that devolved into weak gurgling and then silence as True Death finally came to collect him.

Mellie looked over at her teammate. He seemed heedless of her intervention, and was caught up in maiming one of the fallen corpsecs. She didn’t say anything, but a simple acknowledgement would have made her feel a lot better about the situation. She sighed and looked around the devastated lobby, trying to calm her nerves. All of the corpsecs were brutally dispatched, a number of the PMI suits were also hit by Holiday’s explosive entrance, and the place looked like an abattoir. The unarmed corps were terrified, with all the ones who weren’t just reduced to gibbering pleading for their lives with the M.E.R.C.s. It seemed like they had been plenty noisy.

The noise was suddenly overcome by a pair of new voices. The twin jet scream of plasma blades overtook the panicked pleas of the terrified corps, and bathed the room in an otherworldly green light. Mellie turned to look at the interruption of the mercenary’s bloodshed. A pair of active plasma swords were held in the hands of a tall android bedecked in armor with the colors of Power Motors Incorporated. The two weapons projected a beam of crackling, blindingly hot plasma as the android brandished them at the mercenaries.

“End of the line, mercenaries,” came the android’s voice, his vocoder boosted to maximum levels to be heard over his weapon’s noise.

The devilkin grimaced. She hated dealing with energy weapons, and this brute would probably put her behind schedule too. Mellie approached slowly, keeping guarded as she closed the distance between herself and the threatening corpsec. She watched Terry out of the corner of her eye as she stepped closer. The other M.E.R.C. was staring down the android intently, though his face betrayed no emotions. The android watched them both, its cylindrical head having a number of cameras mounted on lateral tracks allowing it to do so.

Mellie revved the engine of her HF weapon, trying to pull the opponent’s attention to herself as she yelled in return, “Bit busy right now, toaster!”

Mellie’s taunt worked, though she almost wished it hadn’t. The android immediately began approaching, brandishing its intense weaponry, ready to strike. She readied herself for a forward slash, before letting go of the weapon as she swung, going instead to grab the android’s wrists. The feint worked, and as her massive weapon stalled out and embedded itself in the shattered tile floor the mercenary gripped the corp’s arms with all of her strength, attempting to crush the android’s spindly wrists. Mellie gave a toothy grin at the android’s blank face, practically gloating at the situation.

The android, however, did not yet see defeat. To Mellie’s horror another pair of arms unfolded from his torso, whose hands reached up to transfer the plasma weapons to themselves. The M.E.R.C. knew when a situation was going bad, and she invented an exit strategy. Forcing the android’s upper wrists together she swept his legs out from under him, using the momentum to throw the android over her shoulder and onto the ground behind her with a solid crash that further cracked the already broken tiles.

The corpsec android was still slowly stirring when Mellie was at her feet. She kicked the android over onto his back and grabbed all four of his arms. The muscled devilkin pulled. Hard. With the sound of ripping flesh and creaking metal the androids arms were wrenched back, the synthflesh coating its arms tearing apart as she wrenched at them. Terry took advantage of the restraining hold and charged forward, bringing his high-frequency axe down on the android over and over.

The first hit struck the machine’s right shoulder, making Mellie’s hold rip the destroyed upper limb out of the socket. This also led to her grip sliding free on his lower right arm, letting the android’s hand scrabble across the shattered ground, before wrapping around the unignited handle of his plasma sword. Terry’s second strike slammed directly into the android’s head, the high-frequency field crashing down into the cranial plating of the grappled machine. The grabbed plasma sword ignited, projecting its eerie green blade right beside Mellie as she continued restraining the android.

“Kill him dammit!” the devilkin lady yelled, losing her cool at the prospect of being sliced apart by a plasma blade.

The heavy axe hacked into its target as Terry swung again, splattering the ground with gushing white coolant as he went in for a killing blow. It struck home and the android went completely limp, releasing its hold of the sword, and leading to Mellie ripping more of his limbs out of his body as the resistance to her pulling ended. She sighed and let go of the dead android’s extremities, before thanking Terry.

“Thanks for the assist, we sure disarmed him, huh?” asked Mellie, cracking a smile at her own unfunny pun.

The other mercenary just nodded.

Mellie crossed over to where her thrown weapon had landed, inspecting it to make sure that her wild throw hadn’t damaged the highly customized implement. The huge armament was quite far from a baseline Pseudo Industries 5B-53 HF Greatsword, as she had used it for a few years at this point. Over time she had replaced the standard high-frequency field system with a chain tooth blade, and she’d added more appropriately Infernal spikes and blades to accentuate its deadliness. Along with that she’d overhauled the engine a number of times, before settling on a six piston V engine. It gave a lot of cutting power though it bucked a bit when she revved it. The bucking was manageable for her, though, and the increased slicing ability was ideal. Thankfully the weapon had landed relatively safely, and the only thing she could find wrong was one of the teeth being chipped.

Satisfied, Mellie opened her radio channel again, “Holiday, where’d you go?”

At the mention of the chimera’s name one of the suits lost their composure.

“We’re all going to die! That catperson was the Holiday!” she screamed.

Terry revved his HF axe threateningly, quelling any further exclamations.

“Oh I’m in the director’s office, just go left at the end of the entranceway, I’m in the room with the big doors, mew can’t miss it. I nyassumed that you guys could take care of the sit-mew-ation out there, and I didn’t want our man getting away,” she explained.

After getting Terry’s attention Mellie jogged down the hallway to the director’s office, leaving bloody footsteps in her wake. The hallway wasn’t long, and Holiday’s instructions were easy enough to follow. As she and her comrade entered the room the situation became apparent.

Holiday was sitting on the desk of Frederick Hopkins, director of the Illigan branch of Power Motors Incorporated. Next to her, still sitting at his desk, was Frederick Hopkins. The man was in a compromising position, as the chimera had him at gunpoint, taped to his office chair, and also had the smooth, bright yellow orb of a high-explosive grenade wedged in his mouth. It seemed like the explosive device was well and truly stuck in the director’s mouth, and it looked like it would be difficult to extricate. The director looked like a run of the mill corporate executive, dressed in a properly tailored suit, with a look of indignation written across his mustached face at the current circumstances.

The chimera patted the director’s well-balded head as she gracefully hopped down from the desk, slowly unspooling a wire as she walked. One end of the wire was wrapped around her finger, while the other was evidently tied to the grenade’s pin.

“Oh don’t mewve,” Holiday said to her hostage, “You’ll lose your head and we wouldn’t want that nyow, would we?”

To emphasize her point she tugged ever so slightly at the wire, making it taut for a moment. The director gave a muffled yell as the pin threatened to pull loose from the tension. Holiday laughed as she obviously relished his terror, making Mellie grimace. The devilkin liked her chimera friend plenty, and had even stuck by her when her juvenile acts of vandalism had escalated into more serious, explosive crimes over the years, but Holiday’s penchant for tormenting people never sat well with her. Still, she had a way of keeping people around.

“Good work Holly,” said Mellie pleased at how everything was going so far, “We just have to hole up here and wait until Ari has the stuff. Then we can walk out of here with your finger on the detonator, and it’ll all have gone according to plan!”

“Nyeah so, one small problem; he myanaged to use this before I grabbed him,” she said in a sour tone as she held up a broken pile of plastic and circuits, “I think it was a silent radio beacon. I busted it but he’s probably gonnya have some backup real soon.”

“Alright, I’ll tell Bones in a minute,” Mellie said, undoing the clasp for her helmet.

She touched the bullet holes around her body from the corpsec’s one-man barrage. She was bleeding a bit, and was starting to feel the pain from the injuries as her adrenaline surge was dying down. Mellie blinked a few times, realizing that she was seeing with a few more eyes than she normally did. The excitement and injuries had made her flesh demonize, revealing her Hellish heritage very evidently.

The devilkin woman’s face now sported two additional sets of eyes, one above and one below her normal ones. Mellie was glad that her demonization wasn’t anything too outrageous, she had known some devilkin whose hands turned to claws when they got worked up, or even worse, one who breathed fire when her anger was roused. The numerous eyes were enough to alarm the detained director, who gave a choked gasp of surprise at the sight of her inhuman face.

The M.E.R.C.’s curved, upwards pointing horns barely poked out of her fluffy, though now gore-drenched, mass of black hair, and her stubby, reptilian tail were her main, outwardly demonic features, aside from the occasional patch of scales that grew on her forearms and shins. Mellie did her best to calm down and steady her breathing. Her other, more useful demonic trait would have an easier time kicking in if she did.

There was a small pause as she slowed her breathing down, before a small “clink” from a piece of lead hitting the office’s floor that was just barely audible. It was followed by a few other bullets that were driven from Mellie’s body as her Infernal gifts kicked in. Soon the blood on her person was sucked back inside her wounds that began scabbing and scarring over in moments. After that all that remained of the injuries was the minute holes in Mellie’s armor.

“Nyan mew-llimeter, what were they thinkin-” exclaimed Holiday before she was cut off by a high-frequency axe chopping into her abdomen.

The roar of the weapon cut off the chimera’s statement, as Terry gunned the trigger, coating the floor with a spray of Holiday’s flesh and blood. Mellie watched in horror as the axeman pulled the weapon out of her friend’s gut with a sickening sucking noise, before he yanked the wire connected to the pin of the grenade in the director’s mouth. The director began screaming and thrashing, desperately trying to escape, before his head was blown apart into a red mist sprinkled with brain matter and bone.

Mellie had thought that she was frozen in horror at the mutilation of her friend and the utter sabotage of their mission, but she found herself swinging her own weapon down at the turncoat. The blade narrowly missed Terry as he stepped back, and it instead slammed into the deceased director’s desk, reducing the realwood furniture into an explosion of splinters.

“I KNEW I COULDN’T TRUST YOU!” Mellie roared over the din of their weapons.

Terry didn’t respond, and instead moved further back as she lept at him with a wide swing, attempting to bisect the silent human. Her weapon’s teeth instead tasted mostly air, though she did manage to nick his leg. The slash was far from fatal, and unlikely to slow him, but Mellie was encouraged by the injury. Her encouragement was halted by the all too familiar jingle of a grenade sliding across the floor.

Instinctually Mellie leaped away from the explosive, throwing herself behind a couch in the spacious office’s sitting area. There was a subsequent bang, but it was a lot more quiet than she had thought it would be, and it was followed by a steady hiss. The hiss of the grenade releasing smoke couldn’t mask the sound of Terry running away, or the fading sound of his high-frequency weapon’s engine idling.

Mellie keyed her radio, “Terry’s fucked us! He killed the director and took down Holiday! I’m grabbing her and pulling out, those reinforcements will probably be here any moment too. This whole mission is a wash.”

“Slow down, slow down. Reinforcements? Where’s Terry?” asked Bones, trying to get a hold of the situation.

Mellie explained as best she could. things were starting to go sideways, really fast. She quickly walked over to where Holiday was laying, in a puddle of her own blood and ruptured flesh.

“Alright, alright. Get yourselves together, girls. Ari, I don’t care if you need to blow a fuse, get those schematics downloaded yesterday. We’re moving up the timetable by ten minutes. Cash and I will provide whatever support we can from out here.”

Ariadne grumbled in Pythonian before confirming in Capital, “...right. I’ll see what can be done.”

Holiday was still clinging to life at Mellie’s feet, spluttering on blood as her hands scrabbled around in the mess that was her torso. She was looking for something, and was remarkably conscious for someone who was missing most of her internal organs.

“Holly! You’re gonna be o-”

“The detonator Mellie. For the stuff I put downstairs. Where is it?”

Mellie looked around the pile of ruined chimera meat and clothing, as Holiday’s movements got more frantic. After a few tense moments Mellie found the detonator in a fold of bloody, shredded clothing and handed it to Holiday’s clammy, clawed hand. She took it instantly, her fingers wrapping around the handle before popping open the safety cover and hammering the detonation button a number of times.

For a moment nothing happened, and Mellie’s anxiety grew, until there was a loud pair of heavy thumps. The building shook, the power flickered, and Holiday started cackling. The red auxiliary lights went on as the standard lights failed, and the gruesome spectacle of Hellish power began. Holiday’s body began pulling back together, giblets of flesh started getting drawn to one another, then chunks and blood conglomerated, followed by organ meat and bones. It all flowed back into her ruined body at a swift pace like a serpent spawned from the floor of a slaughterhouse, and before a few seconds were up the catgirl was whole once more. Mellie had seen the process a few times before, but it always made her stomach turn. Finally whole again Holiday sat up. Her shirt and bandoleer were utterly ruined and drenched in her own blood but she was physically no worse for wear.

“You’re OK!” proclaimed Mellie, wiping tears away from her eyes as all six of them welled up.

“Nyeah of course I’m OK. What else do I pay that demon downsec for? I don’t go to his temple to buy his shitty food,” said Holiday, unamused.

Mellie stood up from her squat and helped Holiday up with her. Mellie didn’t like the harm and death caused in the name of the demonic pact that Holiday maintained, but it did mean that her childhood friend got to stay alive. The specifics of the pact weren’t very clear to Mellie, but from what she did understand, if Holiday was ever threatened with death she could inflict harm on others to recover from the mortal injury she had sustained. There was a time limit, and some other conditions, but apparently placed explosives were seen as “legitimate” in the terms of the pact, and the method had become a staple in Holiday’s repertoire. The fallout from this practice had, naturally, led to the chimera being labeled a terrorist, and even “Public Enemy #1” now and again.

“Huh, looks like you set off the shutter system after all,” said Mellie as she thought out loud.

Holiday pointed a thumb back at the still very dead PMI executive, “Lets get mew-ving. I don’t want to be up here when that guy’s private army shows up,”

***

The cannon shell struck the Seabrisket with terrible force that tossed her passengers about like wet laundry in a washing machine. Accion gripped the strut next to him as the ship bucked and rocked from the impact. The armor was holding, but after a few more hits the stand tank’s cannon would turn the monitor’s armored hull into a floating tomb.

“We’re dead if that ST keeps hitting us, ma’am,” he said, keeping his intonation as calm as he could.

“I’m very aware of that, corporal. Schneider, full throttle. We need to get to that dock up there on the left, sink or swim,” ordered Sergeant Stone.

Schneider gave a hesitant acknowledgement before pushing the ship’s accelerator all the way forwards. Accion kept gripping the strut he was holding onto as the sudden thrust pulled him back. He hazarded a glance out the forward gunnery port. It was as he had suspected, the stand tank they were approaching was an AVM-19, a heavy vehicle by all accounts. The 15mm autocannon that the Seabrisket had on her fore mounting wouldn’t even scratch the armor on the tank.

Another round slammed into the Seabrisket, pushing her to the port, and sending spalling ricocheting throughout the crew cabin. The huge android suffered the least of it, but his flesh and blood companions were getting injured and disoriented. Accion scooted aftwards between the machine gunners and approached the raised command chair that had the sergeant, the chaplain, and the helmsman all gathered around it.

Corporal Schneider was out like a light after hitting his head on the ship’s dashboard, while Chaplain Eckord and Sergeant Stone were clinging to the command chair for dear life. Without Schneider at the controls the ship was listing to the left, on a collision course with a cargo dock that was much closer than the one the sergeant had indicated.

Accion, Stone, and Eckord all tried to grab the controls to correct their course but it was already too late. The Seabrisket rammed into the synthwood planks of the dock, wedging itself between the concrete pylons that held the planks up. Everyone was jerked forwards once more by the impact, as the monitor’s forward momentum ended very abruptly.

A few moments after the ship stopped Accion righted himself and looked over his squad mates. Theos was still dead, but it looked like the rest of the crew was still alive, just a bit shaken. Careful not to step on any of the other Holy Mercenaries, he made his way over to the portside armored hatch. The ship was now heavily tilted, with its port side lower than the starboard, leaving the deck of the crew cabin at a steep tilt. The armored door swung open freely with a rusty complaint, showing off an inglorious view of a gravelly beach at the bottom of a concrete canal wall.

The android gave a rousing shout, “Let’s go boys! We’ve gotta clear out, this thing isn’t going another inch, and we have a body to move!”

All six of the surviving mercenaries and their captive unloaded from the Seabrisket on the canal’s beach, and they began hiking upwards to the street at the top of the canal quickly. Accion carried the captured NCSDF captain, and the burden didn’t slow him down one bit. The tank was still about, and the lot of them were no match for its firepower. The top of the canal wall was only two stories up, but running up the nearby access stairs was furtive and desperate, as they were exposed, with only a chain link fence for “cover”. The street at the top of the canal’s bank led directly to the cargo dock that Sergeant Stone had originally indicated, along an asphalt path that was blocked in by a length of chain link fence and a red-bricked rear side of a warehouse. It was exposed, but with any luck the cargo ships and dock workers trying to make it through the combat-choked canal would block some of the SDF elements from pursuing them.

Accion realized that the noise of a chugging turbine motor and the moving water was not a cargo ship, rather it was the stand tank that was now pursuing the Holy Mercenaries. The armored beast was striding through the canal, rounding the cover of the cargo dock to get a line of sight on the Seabrisket. Having spotted the beached ship the ST opened up with its cannon before following up with a rocket for good measure. The combination of cannon shell and rocket penetrated the river monitor, striking her fuel tank and setting the whole ship ablaze with a fiery explosion large enough to send all of the mercenaries sprawling.

First to her feet, the chimera sergeant was already yelling orders as the ringing in each of the M.E.R.C.s ears died down.

“WE NEED TO MOVE OR WE’RE DEAD MEAT!” she screamed, waving her hand to get her men moving in the right direction.

They rose as quickly as they could, following her lead as she charged towards the relative safety of the dockyard. As they sprinted the SDF stand tank caught sight of the column of moving mercenaries, and opened up with its machine guns. Accion avoided the worst of it, but a number of shots hit Private Riley and Sergeant Stone. Their body armor, reinforced by their kevlar-weave HMB coats, did nothing against the rapid fire storm of heavy projectiles. There was nothing left of the private’s torso, but luck was on the sergeant’s side, as she stumbled forwards, only missing a majority of her right leg.

The sergeant screamed as she hit the ground again, dropping her shotgun and composure. Accion cursed and grabbed her as he continued his unbroken stride, now with renewed purpose and a doubled load, one of which was currently bleeding down the back of his chassis.

Stronger shoulders, not lighter burdens, he intoned to himself as he focused on getting out of the way of any further fire.

Accion flew down the stairs connecting the path atop the canal to the dock and kicked the flimsy aluminum door blocking off the dockyard with a solid kick. Having secured access for himself and the rest of the squad, Accion found cover between two stacks of cargo containers and administered what little aid he could to the sergeant. The rest of the survivors piled in behind him, keeping watch at either end of the narrow alley formed by the stacked storage containers. Sergeant Stone was somehow still lucid enough to be biting her own arm cursing from the pain, but if they didn’t stop the bleeding she would be off to Heaven soon.

Unbuckling one of the straps that kept his combat knife strapped to his thigh, Accion made a crude tourniquet that would stop the sergeant’s bleeding. The majority of the squad’s medical supplies were with Riley, but trying to retrieve those now would be suicide. The android instructed his superior officer to prepare herself before he applied the makeshift tourniquet. As he fitted the strap around her leg the horselady began hyperventilating, and when he pulled the loop of leather tight she was too out of breath to scream properly. After inhaling sharply she began screaming, loud enough to make Accion dampen his audio receptors.

The android had suffered his share of damage over his long lifespan, but with his simulated sense of pain he certainly didn’t experience it as viscerally as any of his organic friends seemed to. Still, the crisis was averted for the time being. The sergeant would need proper medical service, and a replacement limb, but she wasn’t going to die right away.

“Corporal, that tank is crossing the canal, it looks like it’s coming to poke around the ship’s wreck,” said Private Mills, the last remaining private-rank mercenary on the team.

“Fine, as long as we stay out of sight we’ll be alright. Once we get a chance we’ll move inland and get to Ecker Park, it’s in the next sector over, and that’s only a short run,” said Accion, assuming command while Sergeant Stone’s wailing died down to frustrated whimpering as she lost consciousness.

“Accion,” called the other corporal, motioning for the android to join him.

A look of concern concealed by bravado was plastered across Schneider’s face. Accion knew it was bad before he looked. A Newland City Self Defense Force patrol ship was pulling into dock, and unloading marines before it was even properly anchored. A full squad of fresh, eager soldiers were touching down on the other side of the dockyard, already looking for the Holy Mercenaries as they got on dry land.

An unfortunately familiar, rhythmic sound pulled Accion’s attention in the opposite direction. The stand tank was walking closer, following the canal wall the M.E.R.C.s had escaped along to the dockyard. The armored vehicle was striding towards them, and soon it would not only come upon their hiding spot, but it would also be in the perfect position to enfilade fire between the canisters, reducing each one of them to bloody shreds, like it had Private Riley.

In the face of oncoming death Accion steeled himself, purging his mental subroutines before taking a knee and pressing his fingers and thumbs together into a triangle to pray to the Machina. The steady footsteps of the ST were getting closer, and the yelling from the NCSDF soldiers was also approaching.

Deus Machina, send us a miracle, please.

#Ashlands RPG #M.E.R.C.s

4 notes · View notes

mcschnuggles · 1 year

Note

Larry has SUCH agere switch vibes to me and I need to talk about it to someone so hhhhhh here goes nothing:

Initially only a caretaker with a high chance he would have never even known about being a little if he didn’t took care of someone before (I sadly do not know who I headcanon to be the person he takes care of is as of now per se? Rika? Hassel? Leaning slightly towards Rika because the idea of Rika Larry friendship intrigued me) surprisingly good at it too. A very gentle caretaker, doesn’t like punishments even tough he likes to have a very strict routine, best storytime voice, takes a nap with his little…. Which may or may not be how he found out about his own regression because a minute ago he was reading fairytales with his kiddo and he felt so warm and content and then he took out Komala because they are the best nap buddy and then he wakes up oddly disoriented and confuzzled half an hour later and suddenly he needs a while to “reboot” properly.

Also didn’t realize he regressed as well because it looks very…. Unchildlike to everyone around him. When he caretakes he is used to the people who regress going at least a little bit more for the childlike aesthetic, maybe not going full out but they do have some gear, some adorable stuffies, coloring books, pjs etc. and he wouldn’t bother getting out of his suit because ugh, effort. Sure him suddenly taking his shoes of and going around on socks in the league office is a bit odd but hey, no challenger currently approaching, so who cares if he gets a little comfortable…. And kind of wishes someone would play with his hair… and maybe do a puzzle with someone, not even one that’s that hard, maybe a hundred pieces and then they could bundle up on the couch and…oh.

He’s an odd little guy when it comes down to it, just because he seems still very adult when regressed. Definitely still enjoys the same foods he does as an adult. Someone in the league asks him if he wants a snack and he answers he has something in the fridge… and it turns out to be expertly done spicy sushi from the treasury, with an experimental dip on the side made with Sake that the chef wanted him to try out and give his opinion on. All well meant attempts at buying more child appropriate snacks for Larry end with the rest of the elite four (usually Poppy) eating it themself.

OUHGOUH i'm EATING this it's so good

#headcanons with snug #pokemon agere

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oliviajames1122 · 2 years

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The 5 Most Common Symptoms That the Electrical System in Your Car Is Failing

Modern vehicles rely heavily on electrical systems to run smoothly. A lot of the operation of your vehicle is controlled by the alternator, battery, and other electrical and electronic systems; if these components start to malfunction, your car could have a number of different problems.

Electrical issues with cars have existed for practically as long as cars themselves.

Although electricity has significantly improved driving experiences and made cars usable in all weather conditions, vehicle electrical issues have caused many headaches for car owners.

If you believe you are experiencing electrical issues with your car, you should book an appointment with a competent car technician by searching online for car repair garage near me as soon as you can.

The following are 5 most common faulty car electrical system symptoms:

1.The Engine Isn't Starting Right - The engine needs electricity to start. The battery must supply the spark through a spark plug through the ignition switch in order to ignite the fuel in your engine. Your battery, alternator, or another unrelated electrical issue may be to blame if your engine won't start properly. In order to charge the car's electrical system, the alternator and battery must function properly. Your car will certainly suffer from a defective alternator in numerous ways. The most frequent problem you'll experience when trying to start our car is "clicking." This indicates that the system's current flow is insufficient to start the engine. Usually, a defective or depleted battery is the culprit, but your starter may also be to blame. During ignition, the starter motor should turn the engine over and let the rest happen. When the ignition is turned on, the starter motor enables the engine to suction air. When cranking, if you hear a "grinding" sound, there may be an issue with the flywheel ring gear or the starter. There is a good probability that an electrical system is broken in an older, high mileage vehicle. If these problems continue, it is strongly advised that you schedule an electrical diagnosis at a car service in Reading garage. It's also important to have routine maintenance performed to keep your car in good shape.

2.Your Car Battery is Having Issues - Don't immediately swap out your battery if it's having problems without first getting a professional car mechanic to inspect the car's electrical systems. A dead battery or a defective battery could be a concern because most automotive batteries only last around 5 years, often fewer in hot areas. The problem, though, might possibly be with your alternator or any other component of your car's auto electrical system. If you suspect a battery issue, start by inspecting your battery cables for corrosion and making sure they are installed correctly as they are primarily responsible for powering the vehicle's electronic components. Searching online for car garages in Reading will help you find a car repair garage that also deals with electrical issues. If your car still won't start, you might think about having your battery checked out by a mechanic. Your problem probably resides elsewhere if your battery is in good shape and is verified to be functional. It is advised to diagnose your vehicle's electrical system so you may take it to the car garage closest to you to have the alternator and other power systems checked. Experts in electrical repairs offer these issues strategic answers. Owners of vehicles should also be familiar with the charging system, which maintains the vehicle's electrical power. Get a jumpstart and hire a qualified expert to inspect the electrical system of your car and do the time-consuming auto electric repair if you don't know how to diagnose and repair problems.

3.Lights Not Working Properly - Headlights and Other Lights One of the most significant functions of your car’s electrical system are controlling the lighting. Headlights, brake lights, indicator lights and interior lighting keep you visible in the dark and keep you safe while driving. Headlights also guarantee that you can see what you need to see in turn signals. The lights in your vehicle may start to dim if the electrical system isn't working properly. Low system voltage and malfunctioning charging are both indicated by dimming LEDs. A dead battery, frayed wiring, or an alternator belt that isn't working properly are possible causes. Before booking your next MOT Reading, have the electrical issue fixed to avoid a MOT failure. Your vehicle may have a small or significant problem that needs vehicle electric repair if the check engine light on your dashboard illuminates. The car's engine computer will signal the check engine light, which is a malfunction alert lights, when something is amiss. There may also be a problem with electrical system corrosion. You probably won't be able to do an electrical diagnosis job yourself unless you keep a voltmeter close at hand (and know how to use it). Take your vehicle in to a mechanic for a thorough vehicle inspection if your car won't start because it almost probably has an electrical problem.

4.Fuses Keep Blowing Out - The fuse box in your car is intended to guard against short circuits and overvoltage. Fuses interrupt the circuits, preventing overcurrent from damaging electrical systems that are susceptible. Sometimes a fuse will blow for no apparent cause. The only thing you need to do in this situation is replace it. However, if a few of your car's fuses are blowing out, your electrical systems probably have a bigger issue. Electricity flow is disrupted by a melted fuse that has overheated. In some circumstances, a blown fuse is a sign of a more serious issue with the electronic systems. It is strongly advised to perform a diagnostic and repair in order to prevent further damage. Electric systems in cars are shielded by fuses. The fuse box will shield any high voltage generated by the batteries and alternator. More likely to have electrical problems is a fuse that needs to be replaced more than once in a short period of time. Do auto electric repair and get your car inspected by a professional. If you don't remedy the electrical problem, your car may sustain additional damage. The problem is probably being caused by an electrical fault or short-circuit, which requires electrical repair.

5.Smell of Burning Plastic or Electrical Insulation - You should stop driving your vehicle right away if you smell burning plastic or electrical insulation when dealing with any of the issues listed above. This is unmistakably an indication of an electrical problem or short circuit, especially if it coexists with dimmed lights, blown fuses, and difficulties starting or cranking your car. Get your vehicle hauled to a car electrical service and repair garage for inspection and maintenance. Avoid driving because you risk doing more harm to your car and spending more money on repairs.

#mot history #check mot #check mot history #mot history check #check mot status #mot status #check my mot history #mot history checker #mot testing service

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