#this goes for the legion of horribles in general actually

[possiblyaworldbuilder]

Second part to the music post! Hope you're ready for more reading cause this isn't exactly short either :)

So here we go! Starting off with music specific to Gòlhyík. Something they are best in over there: music on the battlefield. It is common, if not normal, for armies to sing, from just marching to singing in battle. Not only does this help with a sense of unity and comradery within the army, strengthening the bond between siblings in arms and boosting morale, but it also helps with intimidation. Thousands of people singing of glorious victory and how they are going to crush you, accompanied by even more voices and music of the magical singers, does not do very well for your morale. And Gòlhyík goes all out on this front, to the point where there are stories of enemy legions retreating before entering the battle, or losing to a much smaller army, because Gòlhyíks army destroyed enemy morale.

Their is some validity to these stories, but another major factor in this is battlefield communication. This is where Gòlhyík really shines. Through the joined music information and commands can be transported almost instantly across the battlefield. See, in theory within the whole army, there could be only one human actually singing and as long as the rest allow their singers to join in everyone no matter how far away will be able to hear this. So when they sing a command to the rest, they will hear it immediately as long as they are part of the group. But when everyone sings this still works through the magical side of the music. In a way the words that are song are known to everyone as they sing with them without need to know them beforehand. Improvising song in groups is therefore incredibly easy. This means that reaction time to the enemies moves on the battlefield will be a lot faster, and this is a huge advantage.

Now in practice the armies are usually divided in subgroups for communication within smaller parts. While still being part of the overall song, they will mostly hear the relevant information from their close vicinity, only hearing from farther away when it is relevant to them. This is not a flawless strategy because sometimes information and commands from farther away aren't immediately clear, but it is still a very useful way that music is used on the battlefield.

Now on the topic of battle and fighting: sometimes traumatic stuff happens to people. Actually it's not uncommon with fights and battles. So how does this affect the music in a different way that already stated earlier?

To answer that we have to talk about what happens during the event itself first. This is about specific traumatic moments like for example almost dying in a fight, and not like general trauma that built up during war. So in the case of trauma from for example almost dying, in the moment that it happens a persons music can completely stop. Complete silence for a moment. This to you might not seem that big of a deal, but to someone who has lived with music 24/7 their whole life, this is huge. This one moment in their life is so traumatic that their music just can't deal with it. And so it falls away for a few moments and it is dead silent. After it picks up again it will sound different, and it will take a while before it even resembles their normal song again, if it happens at all. And event then, it will never fully be the same again. It is like an audible scar on the soul. The silence sometimes returns too. This can happen if someone is reminded of the event. Of course it is a horrible thing to experience trauma like that, but even without the trauma attached, your music falling away for a moment is a shocking experience. In short: not fun at all.

And now for something a bit darker. I'm still pretty unsure about this idea but here it is anyways.

Music is tied to your soul. Now when you die in a natural way, nobody is sure where your soul goes but it sure isn't around anywhere close anymore and your singers disappear. Some believe these singers will go to the newborn people of the world and that's how they stay in circulation. Anyways when you die by a weapon, there is a chance that part of your soul gets trapped inside it. This means that some of your singers will stay with the weapon as the others will disappear. What it feels like to have part of your soul to be trapped inside an object no one can tell you. But the singers that follow the weapons afterwards give a hint.

It is generally believed that the music of the weapon reflects the emotions of the person they killed in that moment, and the rest of their song is lost, but this is not proven to be definitively true so far. Regardless the music of weapons usually is not the most pleasant thing to hear. Often it sounds angry, aggressive, scared, afraid, shocked or horrified. This might also have affect on the quality of the weapon. A pollaxe with an angry song is speculated to have more bite, so to say. Doing more damage to armour, other weapons and people. This is one reason why some people try to get as many souls half-trapped in their weapon, to make it more effective than would normally be possible. It is also heard of that weapons with a more sad song break easier, so the effect on the weapon, which is still debatable in it's validity, seems to vary.

The singers when connected to the weapon, make primarily music with no vocals, but the vocals that are still there are simple. Often just a few words being chanted or sung repeatedly. It has been observed to intensify when the weapon is being used, suggesting that the singers are at least somewhat aware of what is happening. The music of the weapon might also join the song of the user, but the part that is sung becomes more of a background sound not being able to follow the more complex singing of the user.

This whole thing is also a slightly terrifying thing to encounter on the battlefield. A plated knight wielding a mean looking pole arm that chants ominously about death is something you'd generally want to avoid meeting.

Now to finish off on something more fun and also short-ish!

How music looks!

How music... looks??

Yes! Music, in the magical sense at least, is visible! Well not always? It's tied to the volume. When music is only audible to you, it is barely visible to others. If they pay close attention it is there but not very clear. If the volume is louder, the singers will also become more clearly visible. They look a bit like yellow orbs of light roughly the size of fists that circle above peoples heads. Like you can see in the artwork in the previous post about music. They there are more loose particles flying around and they also increase in number when the song becomes louder. They tend to go up, fade and appear again below. Also the singers start spinning faster when, you guessed it, the music becomes louder! In groups singers fly around freely between the people and are almost always visible.

Hmm I think that was all! This was apparently over 2000 words total with the other post heheh. So thanks for reading through all of that! I hope you found it interesting and untill the next post!

Havéja!

#yídràl #worldbuilding #my world #writing

[arkham-anarchist]

i will never stop being salty about the lack of screen time we got with the j squad. the fuckin potential that was wasted

#.main event #.live broadcast #.dilly dally #when i first saw the boys break out of arkham i remember being so fucking hyped #i wanted to see those three make so much chaos #fuckin dream team #this goes for the legion of horribles in general actually #j squad #jerome valeska #jonathan crane #jervis tetch #gotham #gotham tv #gotham on fox #text post #scarecrow #mad hatter

[robinsarm]

Heya!! Can I get some sleepy Quentin headcanons? I'm on a "monster befriends human" kick, so maybe something involving that? You said you needed ideas, so here ya go?

Sleepy Quentin, huh, @chaoticlovingdreamer? I think I can scrounge up a couple >:3

I assume that a lot of people see Quentin as a pill or caffeine fiend, especially while he lived in the real world. But what I think some people forget is that he also has ADD/ADHD as stated by his movie. Do you understand what lack of medication and exhaustion does to a person with ADHD? It's not fun, I'll say that much.

When Quentin is really hitting the bottom of his energy tank he gets more and more distant from everyone else. He'll stop talking, start sitting further away from the fire, and intrusive/depressing thoughts start to riddle his mind. Since a healthy dose of sleep isn't on the menu for Quentin usually, he'll start to cope with his exhaustion in other ways; other ways that aren't healthy and can be left up to the imagination for now.

Some of the survivors that have been there the longest have learned to spot these signs from Quentin before he begins "coping". They'll immediately get up and take him for walks or bring him back to the fire and in front of 20+ other sets of eyes. Claudette, Ace, Meg, and Laurie are usually the nicest and manage to cheer him up faster than anyone else. Steve, in recent years, has also grown to notice and make sure his teammate is okay.

Have you ever seen the joke of someone getting hit in the head on a cartoon and they fall flat on their face, knocked out? Visualize that, and realize Quentin does that on a regular basis just without the hitting part. Like someone with narcolepsy, when Quentin’s brain and body are tired of being awake, he’s out like a light; heaven forbid he’s standing near anything sharp when this happens. From time to time, Quentin will just suddenly fold like a GMOD player hit their kill key. There’s no waking him up for a while after that. So far, it’s never happened in a trial; who knows why, Quentin is just grateful for that much. 

When Quentin is tired and actually decides that he’d rather sleep then Collapse™, he will pass out just about anywhere. On the logs, in the bushes, up a tree (won’t do that anymore because he’s prone to falling out of said trees), on someone. Quentin has no shame when it comes to finding a place to rest his head for a minute and the others, for the most part, are fully understanding.  

Sleepy Quentin can also be confused with what Drunk Quentin would look like, only in his movements, however. I’d compare it to those really yanking pulls that Boiled Over can do in-game that just send the killer 5 meters to the left. Yeah...Quentin will do that a lot when he’s really tired. It’s normal to see him firmly planted on the ground when he’s extra tired just so he doesn’t fall into something or someone. (He took out a game of Blackjack that Ace and Bill were playing and felt incredibly bad afterwards) If Quentin can help it, he won’t move when he’s on the very verge of passing out. 

Not so much headcanons but two scenarios I’d like to imagine have happened to Quentin:

I.

Quentin doesn’t sleep due to Freddy’s constant torment that he resumes every time the survivor falls asleep. But Quentin isn’t the only one Freddy torments. It’s been known that Freddy will hop from person to person if Quentin goes for too long without sleeping. However, the killer once made the mistake of pulling the same shit on the Legion which earned him a proper beating from the four teens afterwards. Because of this, the Legion made sure that the Nightmare can’t enter Ormond unless he’s in a trial. 

(I have a personal headcanon that killers can ask the Entity to block a different killer from entering their realm if given proper reasoning, and that’s how I’d see the Legion being able to keep Freddy out of Ormond)

Quentin, by an odd string of occurrences, ends up at Ormond and gets to talking to the killers - since they’re in a good mood. One of them brings up how shitty Quentin looks and actually offers if he’d want to sleep there for a bit. Quentin, taken slightly off guard, shrugs the invitation off, explaining Freddy would just show up and start attacking him again. The Legion, ever so boastful, counters with their story and clue him in on the fact that the Nightmare can’t enter the realm outside of a trial. Quentin’s not buying it but the killers insist just to prove themselves right, eventually having to hold the boy at knife-point to get him to stay and sleep. After a three hour, uninterrupted nap, Quentin wakes up and realizes they were telling the truth.

Regardless, Quentin doesn’t trust the Legion. However, if he’s feeling exceptionally tired and has a few 100k bloodpoints lying around, Quentin will pay the Legion to let him sleep for a few hours, undisturbed. They’re happy to take his money and he’s happy to sleep off his exhaustion.

Still, Quentin does sleep at the fire on occasion; he does only because of the fact Freddy wants him. If Freddy can’t get to Quentin, he’ll start tormenting and hurting his friends. Since Quentin doesn’t want that, he keeps his trips to Ormond few and far between. 

II.

There’s one killer Quentin never thought in his life he’d manage to “befriend” outside of trials. Slinger is a fat no; the man is still a hard-ass to everyone other than Zarina. The Yamaoka family keep to themselves and kill anything on sight. The original four are apathetic towards everyone. Michael, Freddy, Ghostface, Pinhead, Nemesis, Pyramidhead - all psychopathic monstrosities that earned their own circle in hell. I could go on.

No, of all the killers to actually show any sort of compassion (or just lack of hostility) towards Quentin was the Demogorgon. 

It started during a horribly unfortunate trial on Azarov’s. Felix and Yun-Jin were long since dead, leaving only Quentin and Feng to do the last two generators. The thing was, Feng seemed to be trying her absolute hardest to screw Quentin over every time the killer got close. She ran in front of him while they were both running from the killer, she blocked pallets, blocked windows, if the killer got close she immediately hid behind anything large enough. Sure she apologized at the beginning of the trial, but those quickly trailed off. Quentin just wasn’t in the mood for it. So, when he went down for his third and final time due to Feng’s not-so-subtle body blocking, Demo surprised both of them by not picking up the boy immediately. Instead, the killer hunted down Feng (for all of 20 seconds) and threw her onto a hook immediately, not leaving her until she was dead and gone. Quentin had the foresight to bring Unbreakable before entering the trial, so, by the time Feng had reached second stage, he was up and running. 

Even though hatch was visible before Feng died Quentin couldn’t find the damn thing to, literally, save his life. As he ran back into the territory where the killer was last, Quentin’s hope began to dwindle more and more as he heard and saw nothing. Demo, seeming to appear out of thin air, found him first and shred-tackled him into the dirt. On his back, Quentin thought he was going to be mori’d for sure, but then something...worse happened. The killer regurgitated Feng’s med kit onto his chest then stepped off and away from Quentin. Quentin didn’t know whether to thank the killer or puke himself. The amount of slime and saliva that drenched his clothing and neck had him pressing his mouth shut tight. What the hell is this killer doing? was the only thought in Quentin’s mind as he pealed the kit from his chest. 

Quentin didn’t believe that Demo could sit on his haunches like a dog before that trial, but he does now. 

The killer only watched as Quentin used the non-soaked medical supplies on himself until he was fully healed. Afterwards, the killer rose and started walking towards the killer shack. When Demo realized Quentin wasn’t following, it turned back, pathed behind the survivor, and herded him towards the decrepit building. Quentin had seen a lot when it came to weird shit, but this experience was quickly climbing the list. Rounding the far corner of the shack, Quentin found the hatch humming where it usually was. He turned and saw the Demogorgon, not trying to stop him but lying down like it was ready to take a nap. 

Quentin pointed to the hatch with his free hand. “I can have that?” The killer, not understanding human speech, looked down at the hatch then back up to Quentin. The survivor figured that was good of an answer as any, thanked the killer with a shaky voice, and hopped into the backdoor exit. 

Ever since that trial, Quentin has had this weird relationship with the Demogorgon. It’s fully based off the killer’s mood at the time, but for the most part, the pair seem to respect one another at the very least. Some trials, Demo will slaughter everyone mercilessly; others, the killer attacks everyone but Quentin. The survivor hasn’t found any rhyme or reason to the killer’s decision on how to treat him that day, but he’s grateful for the break when they come. 

#Quentin Smith #The Legion #The Demogorgon #DbD hc #dbd #dead by daylight

[prfctparis]

In a Sweet Sunshower

AO3 Link

summary: He Who Brings Rain and The One Who Shines Bright are siblings. It’s fitting that there’s a sunshower during one of the campaigns when their legions team up.

a/n: a few things about Tatooine Slave Culture in this is borrowed from fialleril here on tumblr, so all rights go to them for that. except for the sunshower thing, i came up with it while driving and wrote this as fast as i could and actually kind of proud of the concept ngl. fun fact! zariza’s name mean ‘gold, brilliantly bright’ in hebrew so obviously it means something similar here in this star wars universe.

There’s an old phenomenon, here on Tatooine – from thousands and thousands of years ago back when this place wasn’t all dirt and sand – where the suns shone high in the sky, and voluminous clouds did little to darken the earth below, and rain fell from them, soaking the life on the ground.

It never lasted long, a few or so minutes at most, but it always happened during the hottest season of the year. It was said to be a beautiful sight to behold. The down pouring rain and the bright shining suns, together. Apparently it looked like liquid gold.

Everyone called it a sunshower. All of the Depur took it as a sign for there to be tricksters coming their way. Some of the Amavikka said that it was a sign of hope from one of the ancient prophets – Ekkreth, or Maru, or Tena, or Ebra – or even Ar-Amu to the slaves.

But most said that during it was when slaves became Free for good.

…We haven’t had rain in ages.

Zariza huffs and grimaces. Every single part of her is sweaty and sticky, and the humidity of this planet’s region might actually end up being the death of her. No, not the droids they fought earlier, or the damn Separatists, or even a stray blaster bolt. But the humidity. She knows that hate isn’t a good thing for a Jedi to feel, but she hates it, through and through. The air feels suffocating – the exact opposite of what it should be – and makes the heat of the sun feel hotter than it actually is. 

It’s horrible. She says as much to her Jedi Master.

“Yes, humidity does make what we’re doing harder. Unnecessarily so,” Mace agrees, sounding less annoyed and tired than his padawan but Zariza can hear the edge of the emotions in his voice. He isn’t fairing so well in this weather, either.

At least the battle is over. Now they just have to clean up everything.

The leaders of the planet had asked for clean up help once the fighting had ended and they had verbally agreed to officially join the Republic. Of course the 187th and 501st easily promised they would do so. Neither of the legions have somewhere important to be, except for maybe Coruscant or a High Council meeting, and so here they are. Sweating their asses off in the humid heat that somehow feels like a murder attempt.

“Take a break if you need it, Zariza – I don’t want you overworking yourself in this heat. It could be dangerous,” Mace says after a few more moments. Then to Commander Ponds, “Same goes for all of the one-eighty-seventh, Commander. Take as many breaks as you need.”

Zariza sees Ponds nod out of the corner of her eyes, followed by, “Yes sir, General. Lieutenant Spite and a medic squad are collecting bottles of water and setting up tents for shade. I’ve heard that the five-oh-first are doing the same as they work as well.”

“Good.”

Wiping her brow with the bare skin of her bicep, Zariza is glad that she had the foresight to leave her black cloak and outer tunic on the venator-ship. She now only wears the black boots, leggings, and the sleeveless white under tunic, which is now stained with dirt and a few specks of blood but she could hardly care. The troopers did earlier, though, especially at the beginning of the fight – lack of armor meant danger but Zariza wasn’t about to give herself a heatstroke. She at least still wore the braces for her forearms, and the chest plate that she has since taken off.

One of the troopers – Mayhem, she recognizes the armor – hands her a container of water hardly ten minutes later. She smiles gratefully at him and takes it, taking a few sips, and then hands it back. He caps the container, clips it on his belt, and they both get back to work cleaning broken droid parts and other various debris from the fight. Mayhem never strays too far from her. Zariza might have been annoyed by it if she didn’t know that he’s looking out for her.

On the other side of the large area that had been used a battle field against Seppie droids, are the 501st – her brother included. Like her, he has darker robes than the usual Jedi, and had also foregone the outer tunics because of the planet’s heat before battle started. Zariza won’t be surprised if he’s currently completely shirtless by now – a risk for a sunburn, no doubt, with skin much paler than her own, but that’s his problem. She also knows for a fact that Ahsoka is wearing the tube top outfit she wore constantly before Anakin corralled her into wearing something more covering, a few pieces of armor included, just a month ago.

Hell, even Master Mace Windu is shirtless right now, the weirdness of it be damned. Some troopers have started to disappear regularly, leaving in full gear, only to pop up again with the top half of their blacks and armor gone.

Yeah. Humidity karking sucks.

Needing a break, Zariza leans against a lone tree nearby. She can feel the Living Force flowing through it and focuses on that as she catches her breath. Mayhem spots her and brings her more water without question.

“Thanks,” she sighs, and takes another sip.

Mayhem nods, undoing a second bottle from his belt, right next to where his helmet it clipped. He’s shirtless just like many of his brothers, curly hair frizzy as hell. “You’re welcome, sir,” he says. Once he’s had a few sips of his own, he asks, “How much is left in there?”

She shakes it, and shrugs. “Half, maybe?”

He nods again. “I’ll go back to one of the tents and refill it for you soon.”

She smiles thankfully. “Don’t forget to get yourself some.”

Mayhem chuckles. “Of course not, sir.”

After taking another drink, she hands it back just like before. But she doesn’t move to get back to work just yet. Master Mace nudges her in their bond, asking if she’s okay, and she tiredly pokes back to confirm that she is, all the while eying what’s left of the field to clean up. They’re getting there, but it looks like it will take forever. At least Anakin, Ahsoka, and the 501st are tackling the other half; and they’re getting closer, slowly but surely.

Her eyes flit up to the sky, and she spots grey clouds nearby. But, ugh – they aren’t close enough for them to get rained on.

It causes a frown to tug on her lips. A pout, if she wants to be honest about it.

Mayhem chuckles for a second time, more amused than before. “Finally saw the clouds, huh, verd’ika?”

Another trooper nearby stops and looks as well. A wounded noise escape them. “It’s so close but so damn far,” they say, forlorn. What a Force-damned mood.

“This humidity will be the death of me,” Zariza mumbles.

“That’s not happening on our watch,” they say, firm yet exhausted, the sadness about the clouds suddenly gone.

“Damn straight,” Mayhem agrees.

She can only groan.

Once Zariza has rested for a good few minutes, she stands up straight again, but instead of getting to work, she unties the knot of the yellow bandana at the nape of her neck. The wild, dark waves of her hair are no doubt frizzy and wilder than ever; earlier she was positive that she felt the waves grow in size because of the friz and the humidity, and she honestly doesn’t want to know what she looks like because of it. Quickly, she works on putting her long hair into a nerftail and ties it with the bandana.

What feels like ages later, the planet’s sun is beginning to finally lower in the sky and the 187th has done most of their half of the battle field. Through the bond, Zariza can tell Anakin is close by yet she stays lying on the ground, taking yet another much needed break. The clouds are closer, too. Yet still no rain.

The sound of boots crunching the dry, summer grass as someone walks gets closer and louder, up until the person stops right at Zariza’s head, casting a shadow over her. She blinks and tilts her chin to get a better look at who it is despite already having a pretty good guess. Anakin stands over her, sweaty and shirtless, with red tinting his shoulders, chest, and nose. His dirty blond hair is matted with sweat and it sticks to his forehead and the nape of his neck, a few of the short curls frizzed up, and his face is contorted into a scowl.

“I cannot believe I’m saying this,” he says, “but I miss Tatooine’s dry heat.”

“Agreed,” she grunts.

Anakin huffs and steps to her side. He then sticks out his flesh hand, and Zariza forces herself to sit up so she can grab it. He pulls her to her feet and almost immediately lets go once he’s sure she’s balanced well. The humid heat has made the brother-sister who hug every time they see each other, want to not be touching another body in any way for the foreseeable future.

Anakin runs a hand through his hair, grimaces at the sweat, and wipes it on his pants. Disgusting. “Been drinking enough water?” he asks.

She sighs. “Yep. You?”

“Yep.”

“Ahsoka?”

“Yep.” A beat. “Master Windu?”

She almost says ‘yep’ again, but decides not to. “Yeah, him too. Don’t worry.” She smirks. It’s no secret that before Master Mace took her as his padawan, that Anakin couldn’t stand the man. The feeling might have been mutual, but honestly Zariza doesn’t know and doesn’t care to. For now.

Anakin just rolls his eyes and flips her off, walking off to help Captain Rex and a few more guys of Torrent Company.

Ahsoka comes up to her a second later. The younger teen doesn’t say anything, and neither does Zariza. Usually energetic and happy to get her to know her Master’s little sister better, the heat has zapped the togruta of most of her energy. So in silence, they work together on a particularly large piece of debris, and then immediately head to the nearest tent for some much needed shade. Breaks are becoming more frequent, and Zariza thinks that maybe she will have to stop helping if they don’t finish up cleaning soon.

Anakin is already in the tent, along with Master Mace, Captain Rex, and Commander Ponds by the time the girls get there, and the two padawans wave a short greeting to the men before beelining where other troopers are giving out fresh water.

It’s when one of the Boys In Blue (as the GAR has started calling the 501st) hands them both a fresh container when it happens.

The sound of rain pelting the top of the tent makes everyone freeze. It’s obviously still sunny, but that doesn’t stop Zariza or any of the others to turn to check for themselves. And it is – no clouds directly above them at all – yet the rain is falling down, gradually increasing to a steady downpour. She blinks a few times and inches closer to the edge of the tent, and hardly a second later Anakin is at her side, looking out as well, mouth parted in shock.

“A sunshower,” Anakin whispers.

Zariza numbly nods.

Her mind conjures up a faint memory of being told of a phenomenon from hundreds of thousands of years ago on Tatooine. Of sunshine and rain, together. Of liquid gold. Of tricksters visiting Depur. Of a sign of hope to slaves, or a celebration for the Freed.

It doesn’t look completely like liquid gold like Amu’s tales said, but it was close to it. It’s still beautiful. A stunning phenomenon that neither Anakin nor Zariza believed they would ever get to see. 

“They don’t last long,” she finds herself saying.

The Skywalkers turn their heads in unison to look at one another. Matching grins of excitement and mischief form, and without any prompting Zariza is taking off into the rain almost as fast as a blaster bolt, Anakin hot on her heels.

Zariza jumps into an already formed puddle. It’s right next to one of the 501st troopers, Jesse, and it splashes him. Zariza may or may not have used to Froce to make the splash bigger, but that doesn’t exactly matter. Just that there’s a sunshower, that her and her brother are both Free, and there’s a fucking sunshower and it’s amazing! 

Jesse lunges at her, wanting to retaliate for getting splashed at, but she slips away easily with loud laughter.

From him, anyway – Anakin catches her a second later with water from a puddle cupped in his hands. He promptly dumps it over her head with laughter of his own, then misses up her hair just for the heck of it.

“Wha– ugh, Anakin!”

“Tag, you’re it!” he shouts, as if they’re eight and twelve again in the Room of a Thousand Fountains instead of sixteen and twenty in the middle of a field post-battle.

Zariza gapes at him, but it quickly turns into grins and she chases after him without a second thought.

It doesn’t take long for Ahsoka to join, or even for the troopers. Within seconds, there’s a large game of tag, troopers splashing in puddles, and almost everyone running in the rain with the sun shining down on them, laughter ringing out into the open and so much Light seeping into the Force that Mace can’t help but shove his Commander into the rain as well.

…Yes, we haven’t had rain in thousands upon thousands of years.

But it is said that one day, when the twin suns shine hotly over Tatooine, that clouds will form once again yet they will not obscure the twins from sight, and a downpour of rain will wash over everyone.

All the slaves will be Free, and Depur will no longer have power over us.

We will have a sunshower once more.

#anakin skywalker #tatooine slave culture #star wars #star wars oc #star wars fanfiction #clone wars oc #mace windu #my writing #oc: zariza #take the fear that i don’t need

[petitelepus]

Hello lovely! Could I get a dead by daylight matchup? Could you match me with a killer please, thank you 🥺

I’m non-binary with they/them pronouns <3 I’m pansexual with a preference for males 👉👈

Appearance: I’m 5’6, slightly fluffy right now, but overall strong. I have icy blue eyes, short fluffy hair (originally my hair is dirty blonde/ ginger, but I dye it crazy colours constantly) right now its white & brown. My hairstyle looks very much like Quentin Smith’s. I’m extremely pale, I practically glow in the sunlight. I have a birthmark in the middle of my cheek, and smile lines. My lips are naturally very full and rosy, but my smile is odd and literally goes “w” 😭 I have birthmarks all over actually nvhchfb shh-

Fashion: I wear darker clothes, mostly with a red and black aesthetic. My usual shoes are my black, lace-up doc martens, accompanied with black high waisted jeans and a t-shirt with a design on it or a button-up shirt. I’ll change my style depending on my mood really. My other favourite outfit is of course my boots and jeans then a fluffy lighter coloured sweater like pastel yellow or periwinkle. I’ll wear outfits inspired by characters occasionally!

Hobbies: I enjoy skateboarding, hikes, swimming, reading, listening to music, singing (I’ve been told I’m good at it?), writing, cooking, watching horror movies, videogaming, and doing photography! I spend most of my time with my pets! A dog, cat, and two lizards :D

I’ll sometimes write notes on human anatomy/psychology since I’m a forensics student and its my main interest :)

Personality: I’m naturally very quiet and tend to be shy around strangers. I’m a very caring person, if I see someone get hurt my first instinct will be to see if they’re ok. I’m also very loyal, I’ll be there for my friends and people I love no matter what. I’m very creative, I occupy myself with artistic hobbies and problems are usually easy for me to work through because of it. I can empathise with people quite easily, thats how I make friends very quick! I’m very observant, I find it simple to figure out people’s personalities quickly. Finding someone’s true intentions is never an issue. I’m very polite, even if I don’t find someone particularly pleasing, I won’t be rude to them. Don’t let my outside personality fool you.. I’m quite silly and love to joke around and tease friends! I “revert to being a five year old” once in a while and will get very loud, puppy-like energy. (Sometimes I’ll grab onto my friend’s arms and hide behind them when i’m like this lol). I’ll blabber on for hours about random things and get distracted by a dog or other animal and then have to talk about that hfhfhfb. I’m generally just friendly and will make friends easily.. I’m the one to make friends with the kid who no one talks to 👉👈

The downfalls to my personality? I have horrible social anxiety and have panic attacks around large crowds. Sometimes if I feel like i’m annoying or a bother I become very distant/quiet. I’m very clingy and get distressed if my friends seemingly “ignore me”. I’m super touch starved and will literally beg for hugs or attention from my friends. I can also get a bit temperamental if I get overworked or stressed. I try not to snap at people, and friends know to leave me alone for a bit. (Hugs or tea will fix this issue)

Likes: Animals, music, art, true crime, horror, psychological horror, books, Victorian era styling, Halloween, sweets, sweaters, cuddles!, affection, rain, fall, naps, warm tea, the outdoors, plushies, and wacky earrings.

Dislikes: Hot weather, rude people, being alone for long periods of time, being misunderstood, spicy things, and deep murky waters (other than a pool).

Weird facts: I can name any dog’s breed if you show me a picture :D! I speak Italian. Uhm I squeak when I’m excited lol. I am extremely flexible, and have accidentally scared people like that…

Thats all! Thank you so much and I hope you have a lovely day! <3

I match you with Frank, Julie, Susie, and Joey aka Legion!

Your attire caught Julie's and Susie's attention. You obviously had good taste, and they could tell by how you took care of your hair also. Not to mention, your smile was SO cute, but they couldn't just go and suggest to the guys that they should all secure you merely by your style.

Little did the girls know, the guys had taken notice of your interests. Not only are you cute when you act all shy, but Frank sees potential in you when you rush to save David from the hook and you manage to lift the huge man and patch his shoulder. Joey appreciates the loyalty you show.

You emphasize four of them. Frank how badly he was usually treated in foster homes. Joey came from a rich family but wanted to be a person of his own and not just the heir of a rich family. Julie wanted freedom and a bigger more meaningful life while Susie just wanted the gang to stick together and always be friends.

You see past their walls, lies, and sweet talk so it's hard for Frank to manipulate you, but the rest of the gang just suggests that they should all be honest with you. So when they approach you and ask if you would be interested to be with them, you blink before blushing and asking if you could learn to know them first. Which is totally okay with them.

You're shy, they get it and they do their best not to alarm you. Julie and Susie told the guys to be more sensitive around you, but the young men just laughed and told the girls that you are tougher than you let them see.

These four Killers absolutely LOVE IT when you cling to them in fear or out of shyness. They feel like you trust them.

Frank and Susie are huge dog fans. Frank likes how loyal they and he bonded with this misunderstood Pitbull in one of his foster families. Sadly, he had to move to another home and leave the dog he bonded with behind. Susie loves cute dogs, but her taste is a little funny. Not everyone thinks Bull Terriers are that cute as she says they are.

They love watching old horror movies with you, because you tend to analyze the killers or ghosts or demons and it's honestly fun for them to hear your take on things.

#matchup #dbd #dead by daylight #frank morrison #frank #joey #susie #julie kostenko #legion #the legion #legion susie #legion joey

[the-scarecrxw]

I wanna be held accountable for my writing so I'm going to put down a list of my wips and I want y'all to vote which ones I should work on finishing. (updated aug. 2022, now with new fics AND sorted by age rating)

Gotham, Titans, and General DC, including OCs. all below the cut bc it's stupid long

GOTHAM

ONESHOTS

• You Make Me Want To Scream (14+) - Legion of Horribles Era Scarejokes. They get caught by GCPD for dumb reasons (graffiti...) and while in lockup awaiting transfer to Arkham Jonathan has a panic attack (reason currently undecided, mostly bc he doesn't have his mask/hood, but I wanna add more spice to it.) and to help him calm down Jerome takes off his shirt and puts it over his head to help him calm down. that's it that's the fic. JK the rest of the LoH break them out and life continues.

• Antidote Sequel (16+) - A sequel to my fic Antidote. Just causal soft retired from crime scarejokes. fluff and hurt comfort, figuring out relationships, making out, heavy petting, but no sex bc consent is important and Jon isn't ready.

• Mr Mayor, sir (18+) - a rare nygmobblepot fic! au where Isabella never existed and Ed and Oz get together. heavy dom/sub vibes, Dom Oz of course. Low-key sugar daddy Oz. Don't have much of an outline for this, so it'll be a while.

• Dark Desires (18+ dead dove) - s4 pre Jeremiah reveal, Jerome kidnaps Bruce with the intention to torture him while broadcasting it live on television, but gets the wicked idea to fuck him instead. dub con with Bruce hesitantly coming to love it by the end. Lots of knife and gun kink.

• Fresh Meat (18+ dead dove) - trans Jonathan! takes place when he first arrives in Arkham late s1. some dubcon/sexual coercion with Jerome and Greenwood teaming up to fuck him in a threesome. I actually have part of an outline written HERE

UNKNOWN LENGTH

• The Sketchbook - (?? likely 16+) - Scarejokes. Legion of Horribles era. Jerome snoops in Jonathan's notebook/sketchbook/journal and discovers Jonathan might have feelings for him and doesn't know how to feel about that. If i leave it as a one shot it could finalize with some fluffy feeling confessions. But I'm an angst lord who loves hurt/comfort (with lots of initial hurt) and for a multi chap idea maybe Jervis has some very strong feelings for Jonathan and tries to make a move on him, and Jerome saves him. Jon leaves the LoH bc he doesn't feel comfortable anymore around Jervis but they need him for Plans (Jon leaves behind his research, which Fries could finish from there) Jerome tracks down Jonathan bc he feels guilty and there's a lovely slowburn of them sort of leaning on each other and building each other up and healing as well as they can with their traumas. oh no I've turned this into another retire from crime AU FUCK I love this trope.

• Chemical Spill (18+ leaning dead dove) - S4 Legion of Horribles era, Jonathan makes a mistake and in a lab accident is mentally deaged/looses his memory to before his father finished his experiments with his fear "cure." I don't have much in the means of plot but I can see it becoming multi chap, possibly smut drabbles of the LoH taking advantage of his accident.

MULTI CHAP

• Caught (16+) - s5 au where Jeremiah just never goes crazy and the J Squad has been reigning terror on Gotham for a few months, until Jerome and Jonathan get caught. Jonathan gets caught in the scuffle and almost dies. it's got lots of angst and hurt/comfort. semi complete outline HERE

• Longs Nights (?? likely 16+ bc of mentions and references to sex, past assault, things like that. Ive also not decided on the Graphic-ness of a certain Important chapter, but that could be 18+ in a way.) - I have dreamt of this fic so much. Mid season 5-ish, when Lee has returned and is caring for Barbara's pregnancy. First chapter has Jonathan randomly showing up in Lee's office at the clinic being very vague about things until Lee manages to wiggle out that someone is pregnant and needs help, in which Jonathan admits it's him. (trans Jon C: ) Lee asks about terminating but he's several months along already and admits he's begrudgingly grown attached. idk I just really want to write a pregnancy fic. that's just plot for the first chapter, I got so much planned, including Jon not knowing who the dad is. mention of past Scarejokes, some side hattercrow (Jervis thinks he's the dad) with later batcrow (Bruce was at lees clinic trying to find some way to help him sleep when Jon shows up in early labor, and he ends up helping Lee deliver, and sticks by Jon's side and defends him when Jim and others are like "he's dangerous take the baby away from him!" They develop feelings for each other, bonded by Jon's very harrowing and high risk labor.

• ESCFF chapter 4 (18+ dead dove) - Jervis finally lays his claim and takes Jonathan's virginity, with surprising gentleness because Jon is still shaken from his assault last chapter. I'm debating between it being a soft quiet event in Jon's cell, or Jervis being a possessive ass and claiming him in the rec room for everyone to see so they know Jon is his.

• Arkham Haze (18+ dead dove) - another trans Jon pregnancy fic but this one is FUCKED up. he's in arkham. I have a whole outline written Here.

oc fics (this is for YOU witchy <3

• The Crow (16+) multichap - A Crow origin/intro fic set in the pov of Edward in Arkham. s3 AU. Edward is moved to a high security wing, where he finds himself with an exceptionally strange neighbor. One of Hugo Strange's monsters. They have wings. They're young. And sad. And covered in scars. Edward can't help but feel for them. technically it's planned to be only nygmobblepot later on, but idk could have future Ed/Crow

• testing, testing (18+) one shot - Subject CA-13, or Crow for short, is being tested. it's not rare it's given tests, but this one is different. they want to test if it can have children? that's odd. hey... it doesnt want to be touched like that. stop it. stop it!

• a helping hand (18+) one shot - set after Ed (and later Crow) are released from Arkham. Mayor Cobblepot time period. Ed likes to ask random questions, and one day asks if Crow can have children. Crow recounts their experience in the past (testing, testing) and how they can't. one thing leads to another and Ed gives Crow a very soft and sensual handjob. planning on having implied trans Ed bc :)

TITANS

• Feed the Monster Inside (16+ likely) OS with ability for MC - I so desperately wish I remembered my plans for this. Mid season 3 AU, Jason escapes Jonathan. Cut off from the fear cure cold turkey, he's hit with horrible guilt and the weight of his recent traumas has reached rock bottom. Dick hesitantly bring him back home to the rest of the Titans so he can heal. This is all I remember :(

• Untitled (16+) short MC or long OS - A hanahaki fic, post S2. Jason has feelings for Gar, one of the few people at Titans tower who actually cared about him. Jason doesn't want to confess his feelings yet refuses to get the hanahaki removed. When he's on his death bed Bruce finally breaks his stoic silence he's had about it (he knew and kept it secret) and told Dick and the Titans Jason was dying and should come visit asap before it's too late. Bruce and Lee are convinced even if Jason's feeling become requited its still too late, there's been too much damage done to his lungs. Titans show up, lots of crying and begging for Jason to confess but he refuses to. One night when Gar is watching over him he quietly mumbles a soft "please, please don't die. I don't know what I'd do without you. I love you, please." And quite suddenly Jason is coughing like crazy. Blood, full flowers and leaves. Gar is convinced Jason is literally in the act of dying until in a show of absolutely horror Jason sticks his hand in his mouth and withdraws a blood covered stalk of Aster, roots and all. His love was requited. And he lives! after a long time in a hospital recovering. his lungs are very weak so he cannot fight crime anymore my boy has asthma and lungs that will collapse at the drop of a hat. him and gar are bfs :)

• Later is Better Than Never: (18+) OS - JayGar. Post S3. The night before the Titans leave back for San Fran a very drunk Jason breaks into Gar's room via the window and convinces him to have sex with him before he has to leave.

• Sensations (18+) OS - my rarepairs strike again with Hank/Jay. post s2 au where Jason never left the Titans. Blindfold training trope and impact play. Jason gets whiney bc Hank keeps hitting him with a baton in the same spots from different angles he can't predict and Hank teases him and says "Oh do I have to teach you how to take a hit too?" And makes him stand blindfolded while he just starts with poking and prodding him in sensitive places before upping the strength of his hits with intermittent teasing touches. Jason of course gets aroused by it.

• Sleeping Beauty (18+ dead dove) OS - S3. Jason wakes up after being revived in the Lazarus pit to Jonathan fucking him. that's it that's the fic. got borderline necro vibes bc of Jason was "alive" after the revival but hadn't regain consciousness yet.

• Just another SladeJayDick Fic (18+ dead dove) - S2 Fuck or Die. Slade previously raped Jason during his capture, and when Dick came to give himself up to Slade, Slade forced Dick to also fuck Jason or he would kill him, though he promised to let them both go afterwards. Fic is all sorts of fucked with Dick trying to comfort Jason during the fact. Slade hates that and decides to step in to makes things worse. Ends with them both very disheveled leaving the building, where the rest of the Titans catch up with them.

CROSSOVER/MISC FICS

Gotham/Titans -- New World, New Rules (15+) MC - Post 3.14 of Gotham, Bruce somehow ends up in the Titans universe. Late S3 of Titans. Bruce wakes up in Crime Alley and Jason finds him. Jason doesn't wanna bring Bruce back to his base bc he rlly doesn't want Jonathan getting his hands on him, so he begrudgingly takes him to Wayne Manor. There's lots of confusion on how Bruce got here. Idk much on plot. Fluff and angst probably. Jason rejoining the Titans, getting rid of Jonathan. Bruce eventually has to go home somehow.

• Vague Comics Verse/Titans -- Universal Constant (16+) MC - On a very regular patrol, CV Nightwing finds a TV Jason Todd who accidentally dimension travelled to the CV due to a minor startup villain the batfam had dealt with that involved attempting to open dimension portals. Lingering affects drew TV Jason there. Here are some Tags I have for it. Dimension Travel, Comics Jay takes one look at Titans Jay and goes "is anyone gonna adopt this kid" and doesn't wait for an answer, Awkward Relationships, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne's A+ Parenting (Titans), Bruce Wayne Is A Good Dad (Comics), Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Mentions of Manipulation and Drug Abuse (Titans), Past Character Death (Jason), Bonding over Hatred of the Joker, "gee little Jay, how come your Bruce killed the Joker?", the batfam is chaotic. It has CV JayDick but not in TV.

• Vague Comics Verse -- Ivy's Pollen (18+) OS - JayDick. Kinda what it says on the tin. Starts with them making their way home after a fight with Poison Ivy, seemingly lucky because Ivy used a pollen they were immunized to. Plot twist they were NOT it was just slow acting. They collapse into a horny mess in an alley and have sex. bottom Jason :). Bit of implied unrequited love on Jason's part as well.

• Universe is Dubious -- Indulgence (18+) OS - Jason/OMC. Jason's age is also dubious besides he's too young to drink. He gets drunk in a skeezy bar because he's been having some vaguely defined struggles lately. Cute guy flirts with him, Jason flirts back. They decide to hook up in cute guys car. It's Jason's first time with a dude but he still wants it super rough. Any sort of distraction is good. Begging, hair pulling, crying. All those good.

#my writing #HEELLPP #my post

[rockinlibrarian]

Fic Writer Review

@pixiedane tagged everyone on this, and considering I've been wallowing in my sudden Being Into Fanfic lately (though to be honest I've been READING a lot lately more than writing), see this link, I figured I'd take her up on the challenge. You, too, may take ME up on the challenge if YOU have been writing fic!

how many works do you have on AO3? 19. That's much less than @pixiedane! I'm a baby fic writer!

what’s your total AO3 word count? 66,239

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they? There are technically seven listed, but "Marvel Cinematic Universe," "The Avengers (Marvel Movies)," "Captain America (Movies)," and "Agent Carter (TV)" all apply to the same fic, so really just 4. But that doesn't count fandoms I've written but not completed (and therefore posted) for. So there are more to come. Maybe. Sometime.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos? *

"On the End of Endgame," 51 kudos, because I'm right and Marvel doesn't understand their own time travel rules and 51 people KNOW it!

"The Puppy-Fly Effect," 39 kudos, because it's Back to the Future, the most mainstream property I've written for! So people see it and say, "oh, I've actually seen that one" and they're more likely to read it!

"The Invitation: an Epilogue," 22 kudos, which is pretty good since this is my newest fic on there. It's a Howl's Moving Castle (BOOK, PLEASE, OBVIOUSLY) epilogue, so considering it's not a RECENT thing it just keeps getting slow and steady readership. I myself have been reading a lot of Howl fic lately, and people are getting comments on their decade-old stories from me now, so I imagine this one also will slow and steadily keep accumulating hits and kudos.

"Kerry and the Meaning of Life," 20 kudos. I'm honestly not sure why this is, by far, my most kudoed Legion FX fic. It's the first one I ever wrote, and got me started on the whole writing-the-entire-Loudermilk-coming-of-age rabbit hole I fell into to begin with, but I've only improved over time, I think, but even after I'd posted other Loudermilk backstory I think is objectively better, this one still gets the most!

"Syd's (Third) Childhood Begins," 15 kudos, because when people finish watching Legion FX the NATURAL move is to seek out fix-it fic. I wouldn't say this is fix-it really as much as ensure-the-ending-is-actually-happy-it, but I did use the "fix-it" tag, and at least one of the commenters DID say they immediately came on AO3 "looking for pretty much exactly this"...

do you respond to comments, why or why not? Absolutely, because I know what it feels like NOT to get comments, and also what it feels like to-- I don't know, I just get paranoid, if people don't respond to me, I think stuff like "Did I say something wrong? Do they not care about my opinion? Am I invisible?" so I'm Do Unto Others-y about it, even if all I can think of to say is "Thank you!"

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Well, I haven't actually posted (read: finished) the ending yet, but it's definitely "Exploration of the Astral Plane," because that's just Legion FX canon. No spoilers, Oliver Bird starts out the show having gotten lost decades ago, and this is the story of HOW he got lost, and his friends didn't KNOW if they'd ever see him again, so the paragraphs I've written of the end do make me quite teary! The fic's really fun despite the canonically sad ending, though, honest!

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written? I have not written one YET, if I recall, unless you count the several mildly interconnected IPs involved in the Pipeweed Mafia Stories, which isn't even posted because I feel uncomfortable posting Real People fic online, but crossovers are fun and I really enjoy reading them, especially when the writer successfully blends things together while being true to the characters. Just today I read a hilarious one blending The Good Place and Harry Potter!

have you ever received hate on a fic? Gosh, this is such an ironic question. I wouldn't say that I WISH I received hate on a fic, but my fics aren't even NOTICED enough to receive hate! I already feel paranoid-- Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, you know how it is-- when I don't receive LIKE on a fic! It's LIKE receiving hate for me, because my brain goes into "Does nobody like it? Does nobody care? Are they all too nice to say it's terrible?" mode, so, yeah.

do you write smut? if so what kind? Absolutely not. My demisexual self hates reading it, definitely not writing it. I struggled enough writing just a taste of what a horny, slutty teenager who-talks-too-much Oliver Bird would have been in this AU, and that's mild!

have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of. That would really suck, wouldn't it, if someone stole my work and ended up getting MORE LIKES AND COMMENTS THAN ME on it.

have you ever had a fic translated? Also not that I'm aware of, and if I'm not aware of it but it happened I guess that would answer the "stolen" question, too.

have you ever co-written a fic before? Ever in my entire life, I feel like I must have, but not anything I've posted online then

what’s your all time favorite ship? Hmm. Honestly, there are ships I defend passionately if the topic comes up, but I'm not sure I have a favorite just on my own. Especially as I hate smut, so I avoid seeking out specifically shipping stories. But, since I have been reading a lot of HMC fic lately, I should mention that Howl and Sophie ARE one of my absolute favorite fictional couples, but that's just how DWJ wrote them, and I can tell you unfortunately that not all fanfic writers QUITE nail that chemistry...

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? Speaking of The Good Place, I really do wish I could write the novelization, and maybe I'd write some pieces of it longer than the few paragraphs I have written? But I doubt I ever will, let alone to the point of FINISHING...

what are your writing strengths? Fanfic wise, I like to THINK I understand the characters very well, at least! Writing in general? I think it's just my quirky voice? I'm the only me.

what are your writing weaknesses? Oh, very much FINISHING. But beyond that, it's pulling teeth to get me to fill out the story sometimes. I tend to draft with dialogue, and then I have to go back and fill in what's actually happening AROUND the dialogue, and sometimes I'd rather not.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? At first I was like, I don't KNOW any other languages well enough to do this! And then I remembered the Firefly fic I have mostly written but not completed yet, and you know how in the show their speech is peppered with random Mandarin phrases? My husband has the Firefly RPG book and there's an appendix of Mandarin phrases you might hear in the Firefly universe, and I DID incorporate a few of those phrases into my dialogue, just from that appendix and it's probably horrible, but it fit the universe...

what was the first fandom you wrote for? EVER? The earliest I'm sure about is the Ducktales fic I found in an old Girl Scout manual that I must have written when I was 11 or 12. The first fandom I ever posted on AO3, in response to an exchange, was Legion FX of course, but that wasn't until the ripe old age of 40.

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written? I'm going to give this one to "Two (or Three) Mutant Freaks Against the Fourth Grade" just because it has gotten the least number of hits of ANY of my posts, INCLUDING THE PLACEHOLDER WITH NO WORDS IN IT, so it needs more love. And it really is one of my favorites, because it's just a sweet little story about nerds making friends, and I love rereading it.

*This made me curious which fics got the most kudos comparative to their HITS, because the Endgame one has WHOA more hits than any other fic, but it's over a thousand, which doesn't make 51 kudos look so good anymore. Percentage-wise, it's less than 5%, which seems to be where most of my fics hit when you do the math-- between 4% and 8% kudos-to-hits. The exceptions, jumping up to about 18% each, are the BttF and HMC fics, and, curiously, my beloved childhood friend AU mentioned in the last question-- it may have the least number of HITS (22), but that helps the math when you consider it's got 4 kudos. The HIGHEST percentage kudos-to-hits is its sequel, the childhood-friends-as-teenagers-AU fic mentioned in question 5**-- it's got 6 kudos and only 29 hits, so that's about 20%! Apparently people LIKE when I have to write a sex-crazed adolescent boy. COME ON, people! (The story is actually about Asexuality so I guess it really isn't people just wishing I'd write smut).

**Oh, I just noticed the numbers renumbered themselves when I put bullet points in the middle of the original question 3 there, so this is actually the answer to question 8? But it SAYS FIVE.

[adrenameg]

Ok ok...hear me out😂 So I always joke when playing that when a killer is carrying a survivor, why don’t the other survivors just kick them in the back of the knee or try to wrestle their legs out from under them. I would live to see that😂 Could you do a scenario or headcanons of how some of the killers (the big ones or survivor sized) would react to a survivor trying to take out their legs (either succeeding or failing) to free their friend from the killers grasp? I need this😂

this idea is so good 😂 i do actually think the exact same thing!! i’m sure it wouldn’t have an effect on some of the killers but i can see the legion and danny who are of similar sizing getting dragged down 😂

i decided to name all the killers and write a short para on what their reaction would be and whether they drop the survivor etc, hope that’s ok!!! you can also specify a certain killer if you like and i’ll write a short 😊 again hope this is okay!!

I have put it under a keep reading as its quite long, enjoy!

Killer reactions to survivors trying to take them out

The Trapper | Evan Macmillan: he actually finds it cute that they all try and take him out because it never works, no matter how many of them try. evan doesn’t even realise they’re tryna take him out by his legs until they start shouting rude things at him. makes him chuckle.

The Wraith | Philip Ojomo: philip has skinny legs so when survivors try and push him over he really struggles to keep his balance. there is an occasional time that a survivor gets free. he gets really angry and stands in a corner sulking.

The Hillbilly | Max Thompson Jr: idek with this one, i can just imagine him being completely confused when 3 survivors rush at his legs and try and knock him over. doesn’t budge, but it does startle him, which gives the survivor over his shoulder a few seconds to try and get free. his confusion is his downfall and he knows it.

The Nurse | Sally Smithson: she is actually more worried about the survivors hurting themselves trying to get their friend free than her hooking someone and pleasing the entity. she will drop their teammate just so none of them get injured really badly. she’s too good for this realm.

The Shape | Michael Myers: sorry, but if anyone is being carried by michael then they are never getting out. grip like iron and also legs of steel. if survivors launch themselves at his thighs they just hurt their own bodies rather than him. michael just ignores all attempts as he knows it’ll have no effect.

The Hag | Lisa Sherwood: due to her height and frail structure, she’s defo gonna be taken out if anyone tries to tackle her. the person she’s carrying will be easily free. she gets really upset, and i can imagine she’d slug everyone so no one could take her out when she picks anyone else up. although, if she walks past someone whilst they’re on the ground, they grab her ankle and pull her to the floor.

The Doctor | Herman Carter: throw themselves at his legs and they’ll just get shocked. all of his body is basically full of electricity so there’s no point them even trying to take him out. he has no problem with anyone trying though, gives him some sort of sick enjoyment.

The Huntress | Anna: anna is an odd one, she either gets very protective over the survivors trying to take her down, as she doesn’t want to see them hurt. or… she’s incredibly mean and gets super angry that they’re all trying to hurt her. doesn’t see why they’d try and take her down as they know it’s her job to hook people. she never stops anyone though, she got those strong legs.

The Cannibal | Bubba Sawyer: he never lets a survivor get out of his grasp. if others try and take him out they’ll fail. he gets miserable if someone tries though, he just wants them to stop bullying him. makes him see red and he goes into a rage, everyone is brutally killed by the end of the trial.

The Nightmare | Freddy Krueger: smol boy freddy gets tackled all the damn time. to every single one of the survivors he just has no… scare factor. a lot of the time he does manage to stay upright and hook the survivor he’s holding. after, he tries his best to be scary so they don’t try it again but it never works.

The Pig | Amanda Young: surprisingly, she generally manages to keep hold of the person in her hands. even though she’s quite small, she is strong and is definitely not weak. it doesn’t really bother her that the survivors try and take her down, she expects it to happen. after all, why wouldn’t they try and save their friends from that dreadful hook?

The Clown | Jeffrey Hawk: ok i feel like i don’t even need to mention whether this guy manages to keep a hold of the survivors (he defo does without fail). if anyone tries to take him out, he senses it, and spins round so they run into his belly and bounce off. he makes himself laugh, and it’s actually his horrible cough that poses more of a danger of dropping someone than the survivors.

The Spirit | Rin Yamaoka: try and get their friend free and she will drop whoever she is holding immediately and come after the other survivors. they are all most likely downed within a matter of minutes. don’t mess with the spirit.

The Legion | F.J.S.J: safe to say they all get tackled to the ground, and it depends on who it is on whether that person being held will go free. if it’s frank, he will try his hardest to stay standing and sometimes he does, but if he doesn’t he will grip the person so damn hard he could crack their bones - they’re not getting away from him. julie tries to do the same as frank but usually gives up trying. susie is just too kind and if they try and knock her over she’ll go down on purpose so that the person can get away. joey is a bit of a mixed bag, it depends on his mood. he will either do the same as frank or be like susie.

The Plague | Adiris: she doesn’t really need to worry about the other survivors and them trying to get their friend free. as long as they’re sick, and throwing up then their attempts will be failed. they’re too weak to try and push her over. however if they’re not sick, they may just be able to do it because her legs are decaying. she has height on her side though.

The Ghostface | Danny Johnson: the survivors try and take him down, and it only depends on how well executed the act is. danny is very observant so a lot of the time he knows when they’re planning to try and tackle him and he can avoid it. therefore he doesn’t tend to drop the person he’s carrying. bit of a sick bastard and sometimes plays along with the survivors, obviously with an ulterior motive in mind.

The Demogorgon: why would they even try and hurt demodog???? even if they do try, he won’t drop the survivor, you have to be kind to him to do that.

The Oni | Kazan Yamaoka: dear lord. they just don’t even try with him. they’d never be able to get their friend free from his grasp. he’s way too strong and is basically made of iron. they know that there is no point in even attempting, because he wouldn’t even feel them touching his legs, and if he did notice, then they’d be fucked.

The Deathslinger | Caleb Quinn: one push against his legs and his gun is back in his hand, chain through whoever tried to try and take him down. the survivor he’s carrying is not getting free, he’s a cowboy, he knows what to do to combat any attack on him.

#dead by daylight #the trapper #the wraith #the hillbilly #the nurse #the shape #the nightmare #the hag #the doctor #the huntress #the cannibal #the pig #the clown #the spirit #the legion #the ghostface #the plague #the demogorgon #the deathslinger #the oni

[colehasapen]

(ONE SHOT) ranov'la STAR WARS

Fives hits the ground running, his heart pounding in his ears and the truth of what he had learned weighing heavy on his shoulders. It’s like a collar around his neck, dragging him down like he’s running through a bog.

When he’d first started his desperate investigation into Tup’s mysterious actions and death, he’d never imagined this.

The Chancellor of the Republic is the mastermind behind everything. He was pulling all the strings, and everyone had just been a piece in his game - all the brothers Fives had lost, all the death and suffering, it was all Palpatine. The Chancellor was behind everything. He was the one behind the War, behind their cloning, and behind the chip in their heads that would be used to kill the Jedi if Fives couldn’t get his intel into the right hands. It was all a game, one that had turned into a session of hunt-and-hunted as the Chancellor sends the Coruscant Guards after him.

They’d be aiming to kills, Fives knows, because to them he’s just a single renegade clone who just tried to kill the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. They’ll have been made aware of Fives’ rank as a highly skilled ARC Trooper, and Fives knows enough about their training to know what it will mean - the Guard will be shooting first and asking questions later because fighting an ARC Trooper head on, even one with a CT designation, would easily spell the deaths of them and their brothers if Fives was actually a threat. And that was without considering the possibility that Palpatine hadn’t already activated the chips in the heads of the Vode of the Guard to ensure that Fives would die on Coruscant and no one would listen to the truth.

Force, Fives had really stepped in it this time. Echo must be cursing up a storm in the afterlife over his recklessness. He should have gone to the High Generals first, like General Ti had suggested. He should have left the information with someone he trusted in case of this very situation. He should have turned on his comm and broadcasted the Chancellor’s arrogant confession across every open channel in the GAR.

He should have done a lot of things. It’s the story of his life really.

So Fives runs, and keeps running. He needs to find somewhere to hunker down and plan, and try to ride out whatever drug the damned Longneck had dosed him with. He won’t be able to plan his next move if he can’t stay focused, no one would believe him either if he came up to them drugged out of his kriffing minds and acting erratically. He needs somewhere to rest and recover, and to try to reach out to some trusted brothers who might believe him.

It’s when Fives ducks into an abandoned and rundown warehouse many levels down from the planet’s surface that he realizes that he wouldn’t be able to contact anyone from the 501st. That’s what would be expected of him, and would put his brothers in danger if they were being monitored. To reach out to any of them would mean casting the entire Legion in a suspicious light and would possibly mean bringing the wrong kind of attention onto them. Rex was probably already in interrogation, being his immediate superior, as would Jesse and Kix, being the two living brothers Fives was closest two. He didn’t want to bring more attention to them, but who else did he have?

Commander Blitz? No, he wouldn’t want to hear from him after Fives had plowed through Rancor Battalion, even if he hadn’t killed any of them. He had lost so many in the Battle for Kamino that he took any attack on his men as a person slight, and would hold a vicious grudge, even against one of the ARC Troopers he had trained personally. Besides, he must have already left the planet after dropping Fives off on General Ti’s orders, and would be too far away to help even if he wanted to.

Commander Doom was still mourning the loss of one of his Generals and didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess so soon after General Tiplar’s funeral. He needed to be there for his surviving men and remaining General, and the truth of General Tiplar’s death would put him and the rest of his broken Battalion in danger.

Commander Cody was his best bet. He and the 212th were scheduled for shore leave, and his connection with Fives wasn’t as well known. To the outside eye, Commander Cody was the perfect Marshal Commander, and didn’t have a close bond to anyone in the 3rd System Army to avoid favouritism, though everyone who knew him was well aware of his soft spot for Ghost and Torrent Companies. He worked with enough Commando squads that no one would question it if he disappeared for a few hours without warning, because of his role with SpecOps. Cody could get him in contact with anyone he wanted, he had eyes and ears everywhere, and if anyone could get Fives’ information to the Jedi, it was Commander Cody.

The downside? Fives didn’t know where Cody would be during shore leave. There was a reason why his personal Company was called Ghost, and it wasn’t because they were superstitious - the man could disappear scarily well for a guy in bright orange, and the only people Fives had ever seen actually know how to track him down were General Kenobi and Captain Rex, who seemed to have a sixth - or seventh, in the General’s case - sense dedicated solely to locating Commander Cody at any given time.

A clatter draws Fives out of his plots, and the ARC Trooper goes carefully still, reaching slowly for the closest thing that he could use as a weapon if needed. He curls his fingers around a rusty pipe, and strains his ears, listening for the sound again. There it is, closer this time, and Fives slowly lifts himself to his feet, pushing his body deeper into the shadows offered by the crates he was surrounded by. He stays predator-still, forcing himself past the fuzziness of the drugs in his veins, and keeps himself from shaking through years of intense training and an iron will.

A Trooper in red steps into the large warehouse store room, and Fives almost wants to curse. He knows that paint job - everyone does.

It’s Commander Fox himself.

Fives tightens his hold on the pipe, wishing that he hadn’t ditched his stolen blaster. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to lessen his threat level, but if the Chancellor had activated the Guards’ chips, then they’d shoot whether he was armed or not. At least Fox seemed to be alone. Even drugged as he is, Fives thinks he could hold his own against the Commander, as long as he could catch the older clone by surprise.

Commander Fox prowls through the room, helmet swinging as he searches and Fives forces himself to calm down. He forces himself to slow his breathing, and even his heart rate as he wills himself to blend into the shadows, horribly glad that he had ditched the white plastoid armour about three levels up.

“Building’s clear.” He hears Commander Fox reporting, “Moving on to the next grid.” Fives releases a slow breath, eyes on Fox’s back where he stands mere meters away from where the ARC hides-

-and then, because Fives has the worst possible luck in the history of terrible luck, he sways, vision graying out for the shortest of moments. The pipe in his hands impacts the nearest crate with a dull ringing sound, and the noise kriffing echoes in the empty warehouse.

Commander Fox stiffens, and Fives watches in slow motion as he begins to turn. He panics. Next thing Fives knows, he’s crossing the short distance between them in a rush, lifting the pipe as he goes. Fox is nearly facing him, and Fives swings, catching the Guard Commander in the side of the helmet with enough force to crack the old metal.

Commander Fox crumbles, bucket dented, and he doesn’t get back up. Fives wheezes, adrenaline shaking his limbs more forcefully than even the drugs managed to, and he stares at the limp Commander in shock.

“Well, shit.” He says softly, but with a lot of feeling behind it. “Damn.” The pipe clatters when he drops it, and Fives kneels beside him to carefully pull the helmet off. Commander Fox’s temple is already swelling, bruises already beginning to darken the skin, and part of his forehead had actually split open under the force of the blow and was bleeding sluggishly. Fives winces, pressing his sleeve to the wound to stem the flow, “I’m so dead when you wake up, aren’t I?” He asks the unconscious Trooper.

He should go - he should move on, but Fives doesn’t want to leave the Commander here where anyone can come across him. Doing so could very well be signing a brother’s KIA report if the wrong sort finds him.

“I’m so kriffed.” Fives mourns, staring at the limp CC. There goes any chance to hunt down Commander Cody -

Wait.

His eyes pause on the comm around Fox’s wrist, sucking in a shocked breath. His heart flutters in excitement, and Fives reaches forward to pry off the Commander’s vambrace. “Fives you mad genius.” He says into the silence. A few crossed wires should do the trick to cut off any chance of the comm being tracked - Crys had taught him all about it during a mission with the Ghosts behind enemy lines. Commander Fox would have Cody’s frequency; Fives had seen it himself that all the Commanders had person lines to each other to stay in contact when they could.

This was perfect - a chance coincident that he had never expected to fall into his lap. All it had taken was bludgeoning a Marshal Commander over the head, and - well, fuck it - Fives was already wanted for treason, may as well add assault of a Superior officer to the list. What was a little bit of near-murder between friends saving the Galaxy?

In his hands, the comm beeps as it connects, and Fives almost cries with relief when Commander Cody answers.

“This better be important, Fox.”

#star wars #fanfiction #cole writes #whumptober 2020 #no.17 i did not see that coming #arc trooper fives #commander fox #commander cody

[magical-beans]

Chapter 3: The Suicide Squad (Danganronpa x Reader)

(The chapter title is a movie reference only.)

(G/N) = Given Name

(N/N) = Nickname

Possible trigger warnings: mentions of guns, panic attack (nothing graphic)

~死~

Not long after the Office Incident -- merely what Kokichi is calling it now as a short term solution.  He needs a better name than that to retell his much more enthused, dramatic version of the story -- Kokichi called an official DICE meeting.

To be honest, the call was kind of a shock to the other nine members.  They don't often get together anymore now that business is booming, and someone has to supervise.  The only time they really see each other is for heists, and those are only after throwing around several ideas about the next location.  The only things filling their text thread currently are awful memes and check-ins.

It was even more of a shock to discover why he'd called.

~死~

Hearts — Shinzou Yuu — is monitoring the Chinese base of operations when he receives the call from Kokichi.

"What's up, Boss?"

The call isn't necessarily unusual: Kokichi often likes to call Yuu and complain, lamenting about this and that. Yuu's used to it by now.

"Shi-chaaan! You have to help me! I'm traumatized! Someone attacked me with a big, bad gun, and it was sooo scary!"

This should be alarming.

It's not.

It might have been if his voice wasn't whiny and drawn out — if he attempted to be serious for once: but he hadn't. Things don't scare Ouma Kokichi. Not anymore, at least.

Yuu sighs, prepping himself to deal with the worst of Kokichi's dramatics.

There is an odd shuffling sound, and Kokichi's mocking laughter follows. It spills through the speaker on Yuu's end, muffled, as though Kokichi has pulled away from his phone. Yuu thinks nothing of it.

"That's horrible, Boss." Yuu humors him with his words, but his tone is monotonous. Thankfully, that's all it takes to avoid Kokichi's obnoxious crocodile tears. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"Hurt!? Of course not! I'm the Great Supreme Leader of DICE! I have people who would become my human shield if I so much as lifted a finger!"

This is true, but they both don't like to think about it.

The laughter rings out again on Kokichi's end, muffled once more and followed by a playful "Shut up, (N/N)-chan!" Now that is odd.

"Boss, you got someone tied up on your side?"

"Yup yup! That's actually why I called! I got myself a professional human shield! They're awfully grumpy, though, so I might have to kill them before they can do their job!"

His voice is still playful, but this isn't a laughing matter. There hasn't been a case in the last four years of Kokichi finding an orphan interesting enough to introduce to his closest friends. The innermost group of DICE — the heart of it all — is exclusive. They had built DICE from the ground up, and that's special in their hearts. To have someone join that...an outsider, well...

Yuu breathes in deep, closing his eyes momentarily, then sighs. If Kokichi wants to meddle, it's not his problem.

There is a reason Kokichi had called Yuu first.

"I'd love to meet them, Boss," Yuu says, and he knows his voice sounds tired. "Be careful. We trust your judgment, but some of us can be hardheaded."

"Thanks, Shi-chan. When you wrap up business in China, head on back, 'kay?"

Kokichi's voice is softer now, more fond.

Yuu smiles slightly. This new person must really be something special.

~死~

"Hey, Love, what's hangin'?"

Jack — Ippanjin Mayumi — has picked up the phone in Argentina, her syrupy sweet drawl traveling smoothly through the long-distance connection. She traps her phone between her ear and shoulder before continuing to paint her nails.

"Nishi~ Yumi-chan, there's someone I'd like you to meet!" Kokichi giggles.

Mayumi grins. Two can play that game. And she would admit, she is a little curious.

"A romantic partner, Dear? Don't you think it's too early for them to meet your parents? You should know better than to move too fast." Stepping into the role of Mom isn't so hard: playing it for four years will do that to you.  

Kokichi giggles some more and then drops his voice into something akin to earnest.

"They might be the one, Mom."

Mayumi stills, nearly smudging the deep purple on her nails.

"Oh?" She tries carefully, concealing any emotion in her voice. "Is that so?"

"Could you come back to meet them, Yumi-chan? I think you'll like them."

He sounds a little nervous. He must have known this would be a tough call. Adopting is cool and all, but it is also a big decision. Mayumi isn't sure how she feels about adding another person to their tight-knit group. Kokichi seems certain, though. That should be enough.

Mayumi sighs into the phone, resuming her nail painting.

"All right, then. See you in a few weeks, Love."

~死~

King and Spades — Osama Akihiko and Suki Ryuunosuke respectively — race for the phone when it goes off. There's a flurry of limbs and blows, each one trying to hinder the other from reaching it first.

The phone is on its last ring when Ryuunosuke reaches out to grab it and answer triumphantly, Akihiko sprawled on the floor with a pout.

"Heya, Boss! This is Super Evil Demon Number One speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hey, how come you're number one?" Akihiko whines petulantly from his spot on the floor, and Ryuu sticks his tongue out at him.

"'Cause I got here first, Dumbass!"

Kokichi giggles at their banter.

"Well, my loyal servant," Kokichi begins, a haughty tone possessing his voice, "I need to speak with your lesser demon as well."

Ryuu grins. "Lesser Demon indeed!" He says into the phone before turning to Akihiko. "Get up, Hiko. Kichi wants to talk to you, too."

Akihiko sniffles a bit before getting up, wiping his nose, and Ryuunosuke puts the phone on speaker.

"Hey, Kokichi," Akihiko sighs into the phone, the dejectedness palpable.

"That's no way for a prince of Hell to be speaking, now, is it? Be proud of the havoc you wreak!"

Akihiko sniffles again, but this time it's followed by a smile.

Ryuunosuke frowns.

"Why is he a prince and I'm not!? I thought you said he was my lesser demon!" Ryuu whines.

"You're the High General, duh!" Kokichi says brightly. "You have way more power than he does, commanding armies and stuff. Akihiko just has his gross libraries." A faux gagging sound comes from Kokichi's side of the line.

Akihiko huffs, trying to seem both offended and arrogant, but he's proud of his new title. Ryuu can't blame him: High General is pretty freaking cool, too.

"Your Majesty, Sir, how can I be of service to this kingdom today?" Akihiko asks, bowing even though Kokichi can't see it. Ryuu snorts, jabbing him in the side. That earns him one back. That starts a tasing war.

"It's a big request. Are you sure you can handle it?" Kokichi challenges teasingly. Ryuunosuke salutes the phone, as a High General should, and Akihiko snickers. Ryuu tases him harder this time, and Hiko bends over, clutching his side. Serves him right!

"Of course we can, Sir! We won't let you down!" Ryuu is practically shouting, still in salute position.

"Have faith, My King." Akihiko is upright again, composing himself and smoothing out his blazer. "There is nothing we cannot do."

Kokichi's deep breath is audible through the speaker, and both boys tense. If their leader is nervous, it must be something big.

"Someone will be joining your legion soon. I'd like you to return to the castle and train them as soon as possible."

It takes a second, but another grin cracks across Ryuu's face and a soft smile dusts Akihiko's. That's all?

"I don't know why you're nervous, Boss. If you picked 'em, I'm sure they'll survive our impossible training!"

"Under our care, they will be nothing short of perfect. Rest easy, Your Highness."The pair looks at each other, and smiles widen. Ryuu bumps shoulders with his partner in crime (one of them, anyway).

He's not expecting Akihiko to frown.

"What makes you think you can touch me? Me, a prince?"

"I'm a High General! I command the armies!"

"I am royalty, you swine!"

With an angered growl, Ryuu tackles Akihiko to the floor and another wrestling match begins. The phone is discarded, forgotten, and Kokichi's laughter trickles briefly through the speaker before it's cut off, call ending.

~死~

The last five minutes have just been the two of them shouting and elongating each other's names across the phone.

"Taaaaarou!"

"'Kiiiiiiichi!"

Kokichi finally breaks down in giggles.

"Tarou-chan! I miss you!"

Dealer — Diira Tarou — is in America.

Specifically, he's gorging himself on a pound's worth of McDonald's' cheeseburgers and about three large cartons of fries in the safety of DICE headquarters, New York, but details, shmetails.

"Well, I miss you, too, Boss," He says around a mouthful, "Wha'd' ya need?"

"Why would I need anything, Tarou-chan? Can't I check in with my subordinates like a good boss?"

"Well sure, but ya wouldn't call. Is it something big? I can try smuggling these fries back home. It'll be tough, but I guarantee the amount of salt is worth it. This is the kind of heart attack that's worth it."

"Tarou-chan!" Kokichi scolds, but Tarou can picture the smile on his face.

Tarou's laughter is full-bodied, and it shakes him in his entirety. He leans back in his plush swivel chair and props his feet up in the one across from him.

"Can't say I'm sorry, Boss, but I respect your decision. What'cha got for me, then?" Tarou snatches another cheeseburger, chowing down.

"Y'know, I made a friend recently."

"Oh?" Tarou reaches for a fry.

"Yeah. The day after I met them, they ate a whole pizza. A whole one. All by themself. In, like, fifteen minutes. It was gross."

Tarou laughs again but pauses when he hears commotion on Kokichi's end. His boss is snickering, and another voice — one Tarou doesn't recognize — is audible. The voice sounds exasperated, though its words are unintelligible.

Tarou understands, now, why his boss had called.

"Ya'know that if they can't beat me in an eating contest, they can't stay, right?" He says jokingly, a soft smile on his face. Kokichi, though, gives a sage hum of acknowledgment.

"I'll start starving them right now."

The person in the room starts to yell, and Kokichi laughs out loud, nothing like his signature giggle.

Tarou knows already that this person is here to stay.

~死~

"Emi-chan, I want to try on all your new dresses when you get back."

Queen — Ojoou Emi — has been stationed in France, dealing with most of Europe. (Even though there are two of them, King and Spades never get anything done.)

"I was planning on it, Ko-chan! There is this cute purple one that you'll like! Oh, and I got this pair of shoes to go with it and I love them!" Emi sing-songs.

"But your feet are too big, Emi-chan! I can't wear your shoes because my feet are dainty! Ogre shoes won't look any good!"

"I don't know, Ko-chan. You need something to balance out that enormous head of yours." The banter is playful, familiar. Emi doesn't know why Kokichi called, but she's glad he's okay.

"I don't know what you mean, Emi-chan! I'm cute, small, innocent, and perfect!" Emi giggles.  She agrees, for the most part, because he is cute and small and perfect (innocent, though? That's a stretch), but she can't say that to his face. She isn't wrong about his head; it can't take any more inflating.

"Although..." Kokichi trails off, and he says something else, but Emi can't understand him. He must have lowered the phone, but she can't imagine who he could be talking to. "Aha! They do have feet bigger than yours! They're taller than you, though, so I don't know if they count as Ogre Feet."

This makes Emi pause. Who is he talking about?

"Aw, Emi-chan! Can't think of anything to refute this fact that your brilliant leader has presented you with? It seems I've gotten smarter in your absence! I didn't know idiocy was infectious! It must be like STDs, Emi-chan! Now you have to warn someone before you engage in intercourse; otherwise, you could get sued! I should sue you, y'know, for infecting me with your stupidity. I can't afford to get dumber: the world needs me!"

"Who are they?" Emi whimpers softly, shaking with the effort of holding in a whine and ignoring his jabs at her intelligence. She feels heartbroken, like something special she once had is now no longer her own. The tears pricking at the corners of her eyes sting.

Kokichi's monologue stops, and when he speaks next, his voice matches hers.

"They saved my life, Emi-chan. They ran into machine-gun fire to save my life and the lives of probably a hundred others. They're ten, and they're in so much pain, too much pain. And they've never taken a life, no matter how hard life gets. I'm pretty sure they can't take a life. And Emi-chan-" he pauses briefly, listening to Emi choke on a sob before continuing.

"Their smile is the most beautiful thing you'll ever see, Emi-chan. You're going to love them."

Emi sniffles, the tears slipping down her cheeks hot and shameful. She's jealous. She knows she shouldn't be.

Kokichi takes a different approach to calm her down.

"They haven't cut their hair in a long time. If you ask nicely, they may let you play with it, scissors and everything."

Emi's hiccuped laugh is gross but relieved — one short chortle.

Kokichi doesn't even attempt to hide his sigh of relief, breathing out his nervous anticipation.

"I think you'd have a lot of fun dressing them up, too. They don't have a lot of clothes, so they'll have to trust your fantastic fashion sense."

She's smiling now, small and content despite the ugly feeling rolling in her gut.

"Okay, Kokichi. I can't wait to meet them."

"You'll always be my twin, Emi-chan. No one can replace you."

The gross feeling begins to fade. Ouma Kokichi is rarely so soft, so kind, so quiet. Emi loves him like this. Maybe this additional person won't be so bad if they're worth his heart.

~死~

Clubs — Karabu Nobutoshi — is out on the water off the coast of Sydney, Australia when Kokichi calls. He grins.

"You caught me at a good time, Boss. Just made it past the pier. What's going on?" One hand on the wheel, he turns his small schooner downwind, and Nobutoshi grins wider at the thrill in his stomach at the feeling of gliding over the water. Sailing is the best.

"No fair, Toshi-chan! You're having fun without me!" Kokichi whines, and Nobutoshi can see his pout. "Now you have to take me sailing when you come back!"

He laughs, throwing his head back and adjusting the wheel slightly.

"It's cold in Japan right now! You'd have to wait a bit." Then he realizes. "Wait. Come back? Did something happen? Are you all right?"

"Aww, how nice of you to worry about me! You're so sweet, Toshi-chan!"

"Seriously, Kichi. Is it an emergency? I can book a plane ticket home for tomorrow if-"

"Relax, Toshi-chan." Kokichi's playful tone disappears, and he instead adopts a more genuine air. "I'm okay, but I want you to head home once you wrap up business in Australia."

Nobutoshi sighs in relief.

"... Could you tell me why?" He asks, now more curious than worried but still a little hesitant.

"Well..." Oh no. Toshi can hear his grin. "There was some trouble. There was a gun and-"

"A gun! Kokichi, I swear!"

Kokichi laughs.

"Yup! A gun, Toshi-chan, and the evil villain who had the gun wanted me dead!"

"You literally just told me to relax, then you spring this on me. C'mon, Kokichi, I'm getting old! My heart can't take this!"

Forget about sailing, this little gremlin takes up all his time! Nobutoshi clicks on autopilot and rubs his face with his now-free hand. He would need the entirety of his focus for this conversation.

"What!? You're only sixteen, Toshi-chan! Don't worry about me, we need to worry about you!" Kokichi exclaims, sounding not the least bit concerned. Toshi smiles into his hand.

"Well, now you gotta tell me," Nobutoshi says, "because if you leave me on the cliffhanger, I will die of a heart attack and you'll need to dig my body out of the middle of the ocean."

As if he's mulling it over, Kokichi hums, then says, "Well, I guess we can't have that, so I'll tell you. There was a gun, but someone saved me! They beat up the big, bad villain and broke his gun! That's why I'm calling, Toshi-chan: because I want you to meet my savior!"

Okay, so that took a turn at the end. Nobutoshi was not expecting that, not in the slightest.

"Someone new, huh?"Kokichi pauses before he answers. "Yeah. They're a total dork like you, Toshi-chan, so I think you'll get along well."

Nobutoshi forces his brain to work again, forces himself to process the conversation, forces himself to breathe right.

The first breath is too harsh, making noise as it rushes out his nose.

It feels like so long ago now, but after running away from his latest orphanage with Tarou, Kokichi had found them on the streets. At first, they talked. For a long time. About anything and everything and nothing in particular. And then Kokichi brought them back to an abandoned building. It was old and dirty and warm and cozy and everything that home should be. They both stayed the night. And the one after that. Then suddenly they were family, him and Tarou and the small boy with a doll's face and his ragtag bunch of friends.

Family isn't born on a whim.

But then again, Kokichi found them all, so...

Toshi looks out over the calm ocean, drinking in the expanse of blue, and breathes again, slowly this time.

So maybe he should trust Kokichi's judgment. Toshi had trusted him this far; he could go a little further.

"Yeah, maybe we will."

~死~

Trick — Damasu Airi — is surprised to feel a buzzing in her back pocket as she's racing through the outskirts of the Congo Rainforest. She stops for a moment to answer, settling into the nook of a gigantic tree and catching her breath. When she sees the caller ID, she smiles and quickly picks up.

"Hi, Nii-chan," she breathes into the phone, so ecstatic to talk to him.

"Hi, Airi-chan," he says just as softly, and Airi squirms with a feeling of satisfaction, her smile widening. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good, Nii-chan. The trees are pretty and soft here." And it's true. The people are also really nice, especially when she brings food and supplies. Even though they can't understand each other, they are always so eager to help.

"That sounds like fun!" The smile in his voice makes her smile.

"Mhm."

Airi is content to just listen to Kokichi breathe into the phone, and they sit in silence for a bit before he speaks again.

"Airi-chan," he begins, oh so softly. She loves him. "I called to talk to you about something important."

He sounds serious. Airi freezes. Did she do something wrong? Is he getting rid of her? Is she never going to see him again? What's-

"Can you come home? I miss you."

Oh. Yeah, she can do that.

"I miss you, too, Nii-chan."

"I wanted to warn you, though. There is a reason I'd like to see you again." It's okay, a warning doesn't mean anything bad for her, he misses her-

"There's someone I want you to meet."

No. No. Someone new? No way. This new person will make him realize that she doesn't do anything, that she's useless. This new person will take him away from her. He'll leave her all alone and she'll get hurt again and everything will be so cold. She's so useless. Why couldn't she help him? Make him want to keep her? Why can't she stay and be loved and warm and have no new people and-

"Airi-chan." Nii-chan's voice sounds so grainy through the phone. It's another reminder he's not here with her. "I need you to breathe, Airi-chan. Please?"

She can do that. But maybe she can't. Her breath stutters, and it's so hard to get it through her nose and-

"Good job, Airi-chan. Can you do it again for me? Nice and slow."

She loves the way he says her name. She can do it again. For him.

"Good. Keep breathing for me, okay? Can you name five things you can see?"

She can do that, too. When he tells her she's done well, the warm and fuzzy feeling comes back in her chest. She likes that.

"The moss... the leaves... a bird... the dirt... and... the tree branches."

"Hmm, now four things you can hear?"

He goes through the rest of the sequence with her, slow and patient. They've perfected this through all the times it's happened before, and now she's breathing evenly again.

Okay, someone new.

"Their name is (G/N), and they like to protect people from bad guys. They protected me."

Airi likes the way their name sounds, this stranger, so soft and round as she tries it out on her tongue. And they like to protect. Are they like Nii-chan? She might like them if they're like Nii-chan.

"Okay."

Kokichi knows what her word entails, and that's enough.

~死~

Diamonds — Naiya Ren — calls Kokichi first.

"I'm not surprised you called me last," is the first thing he says when Kokichi picks up.

Kokichi hesitates for a moment. Ren takes advantage of his silence.

"If you want to know how I know, Mayumi called.  She said to be ready.  I figured I'd make the first move."

Kokichi stays silent. Good, that means he's willing to hear Ren out.

Ren has been with him since the beginning. The very beginning. As is, the time where DICE was still a fantasy in Kokichi's head. Back when he would share his dreams with Ren while they would play chess with their makeshift set of rocks and chalk and beat-up checkers pieces.

Kokichi's bleeding heart has always been tempered by Ren's calculated indifference.

"I have no issues with employing people around the world to do office jobs and run service counters," Ren says, "but I have told you I don't like it when people get too close to you. You are in a very high-risk position, Kokichi; you're a high profile target. Anyone could want you dead."

"They know who I am." With none of its usual mischief and lightheartedness, Kokichi's voice is lifeless. "They knew who I was when they saved my life."

"Which you, Kokichi?" Ren already knows.

"Does it matter?" He sounds close to tears.

"Of course it matters. Joker is not the same person as Ouma Kokichi and you know it."

The tears are streaming down Kokichi's face now. Ren can't hear them, but he knows.

"I'm making an assumption here, but I don't understand why you told them about DICE, the true DICE, and mentioned nothing to the rest of us. I get that this is your organization, your idea, but I can't help but feel that this is something that belongs to all of us." It almost hurts to say this to him, to treat him like he doesn't feel the same way the rest of them do about this entire thing, but it needs to be done.

"It does. Belong to all of us, I mean. I can't take all the credit, you know." Kokichi's typical speech patterns without his mischief to play along make his words sound eerie and robotic. It's a wonder how he can speak so calmly through his most emotional moments.

"I never meant to imply that you did." That's a lie. "But it belongs to us. Not someone who doesn't know the value of what we've built. Who doesn't understand the journey from the bottom to the top. Who can't appreciate it the same way we do. It doesn't feel fair. This may be petty of me, but I may be the only one who will say this to you. You're too smart to have called us all without expecting this reaction, this feeling."

"I think you're wrong. About the journey. Maybe not with DICE, but they know. And they'll know DICE, too."

Ren sighs. If this is enough to bring him to genuine tears, and enough to keep him fighting after hearing all this, perhaps Ren can hear him out.

There is one question that weighs heavier than all the rest in his mind.

"What makes them so interesting?"

He knows Kokichi. Better than anyone. Playing round after round of chess will do that to you. You get to know how a person's mind works, how fast it works. Kokichi is the smartest person he knows. He doesn't like things that bore him easily.

"What about them is so mysterious that makes you want to keep them around."

Because that's what it's always been. Each person Kokichi has picked up off the street has something more to them than their tragic backstory.

"Their smile."

Shit.

He's getting teary over a smile?

"Fine." Ren gives up. He wasn't sure he would even win this argument in the first place. "I'll meet them. I make no promises about what happens after that."

"Thank you. That's all I ask."

Damnit.

He got played, didn't he?

~死~

As Kokichi puts the phone down for the eighth and final time, he turns to face you with an enormous grin on his face.

"Now," he says, a mischievous smile on his lips, "We wait."

You look at him, trying to decipher what that smile means, whether it's genuine, but give up after a few seconds. You can't read the perfect mask on his face.

At least, not yet.

~死~

I’m actually really surprised that I managed to get this chapter out so soon.

Finally made it to DICE!  I hope you enjoyed their characters as much as I enjoyed writing them.  This is my take on DICE, and if you disagree, that’s fine, let’s agree to disagree.  I’ve seen other representations of these characters before, so I thought I’d try my hand.  I also tried my best to write a panic attack, so I hope I did okay on that, too. 

Thanks for reading!  I’ll be back next week.

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #ouma kokcihi #danganronpa x reader #x reader #dice v3 #my take on DICE #original characters #i tried i swear

[flightfoot]

On Apollo and the nature of identity

Throughout the Trials of Apollo series, Apollo has struggled with his identity; who he is now that he isn’t a god, what it means to be himself. His new alias  - Lester Papadopoulos - helps to exemplify his identity crisis. The name is a perfectly ordinary human name to reflect his new state of existence. He doesn’t particularly like it (especially at first), but uses it occasionally nonetheless. It seemed kind of odd to me how Rick has characters use “Lester” vs. “Apollo”, but I think I may have an idea of why.

I think “Lester” may be serving as a kind of epithet for Apollo - as a sort of additional name describing his current circumstances and form, and everything that goes with it. It’s why, especially in the early books, he tends to think of himself as Lester in a somewhat derogatory manner, such as when he’s failing at archery in THO:

Zeus had cursed me with mortality. I was not going to pretend that everything was normal. I would not be Apollo until I was really Apollo. For now, I was just a stupid young man named Lester Papadopolous. (143)

Sometimes his friends would call him “Lester” too, like how Leo referred to him as “Lester man”, or just because. 

In TDP Commodus exclusively refers to him as Lester... until the end of his rant at the finale of the book.

Commodus scoffed. “You’re damp and speckled with bat poop, Lester. You’re a pathetic child who has been dragged through the darkness. That darkness is still in your mind. I see the fear in your eyes. This is your true form, Apollo! You’re a fraud!”

Apollo. He had called me by my name. (371)

Commodus associates “Lester” with weakness and fear, with his new mortal form... but he still calls him “Apollo” at the end, in an attempt to combine what he thinks of “Lester” with what he thinks of “Apollo”, I believe. Because “Apollo” is him as a whole - “Apollo” in total, while “Lester” only describes his current circumstances. “Apollo” was powerful enough to kill Commodus, but “Lester”? Maybe not.

Apollo still considers, well “Apollo”, to be his name, because, well, it is, AND I suspect because of how he associates his current form with powerlessness, a helplessness that he didn’t have as a god... or at least didn’t recognize in the same way. This can be seen from the ending lines of TBM:

But from now on, I would be more than Lester. I would be more than an observer.

I would be Apollo.

I would remember. (419)

He was unable to save Jason as Lester, as a mortal. As an observer. But with the strength he associates with being Apollo, he may be able to.

But things change in Tyrant’s Tomb. This book, Apollo doesn’t seem to associate Lester with weakness and fear to the same extent. Or at least, he doesn’t seem as depressed about it. He actually jokes about it a little with Meg when trying to reassure her:

“When we summon godly help, I can ask for complete healing. I’m sure I’ll be as good as new. Or at least, as good as a Lester can be.” (189)

He’s also called Lester a decent amount this book, by Reyna mostly, weirdly enough. When she calls him up to speak to the council, it’s as “Lester Papadopoulos”, not as Apollo. And just in general, she calls him Lester by default. Kinda contrasts with Frank, who mostly calls him “Apollo”, but does call him Lester in certain circumstances, such as when talking about the new birthday he was assigned (as Lester)

“You’ll have to leave for Sutro early on Lester’s birthday.” (186)

Frank calls him “Lester” here because he’s referring to Apollo in his capacity AS Lester. Most of the time he calls him “Apollo”, which I’m betting is because he looked up to Apollo as a god - and still does to an extent. It probably helps that Frank’s awesome with a bow and arrow, and Apollo was one of the few cases where Romans respected that.

Anyway, back to Reyna. She does refer to “Apollo” and “Lester” separately later, when laughing about him awkwardly offering to be her boyfriend: 

“Apollo. When you were a god...” She struggled for breath. “Like, with your powers and good looks and whatever-”

“Say no more. Naturally you would have-”

“That would have been a solid, absolute, hard-pass NO.”

I gaped. “I am astonished!”

“And as Lester... I mean, you’re sweet and kind of adorkable at times.”

“Adorkable? At times?”

“But wow. Still a big-time NO. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” (237-238)

She views him as being the same person sort of, but in different capacities. And she actually seems to like him as Lester more. Still doesn’t want to DATE him of course, but she was less vehement about the second one.

You kind of see this again later, after Reyna finds out about what Apollo did to Coronis and the crows, how she seems to view him MORE highly as a mortal than as a god.

“But you’re the- you used to be the god of music, right? If you can charm a crowd, you should be able to repulse one. Pick a song those birds will hate!”

Great. Not only had Reyna laughed in my face and busted my nose, now I was her go-to guy for repulsiveness.

Still… I was struck by the way she said I used to be a god. She didn’t seem to mean it as an insult. She said it almost like a concession - like she knew what a horrible deity I had been, but held out hope that I might be capable of being someone better, more helpful, maybe even worthy of forgiveness. (255)

I don’t think she’s calling Apollo “Lester” as any sort of insult. To me it seems like by calling him Lester, she’s acknowledging this new side to him, this mortal side, and how he’s different from how he used to be. 

This is actually kinda shown during the confrontation with Harpocrates, with how Reyna and Meg defend him:

In front of me, Reyna and Meg stood shoulder to shoulder, facing down the god.

They sent him their own flurry of images. Reyna pictured me singing “The Fall of Jason Grace” to the legion, officiating at Jason’s funeral pyre with tears in my eyes, then looking goofy and awkward and clueless as I offered to be her boyfriend, giving her the best, most cleansing laugh she’d had in years (Thanks, Reyna.)

Meg pictured the way I’d saved her in the myrmekes lair at Camp Half-Blood, singing about my romantic failures with such honesty it rendered giant ants catatonic with depression. She envisioned my kindness to Livia the elephant, to Crest, and especially to her, when I’d given her a hug in our room at the cafe and told her I would never give up trying.

In all their memories, I looked so human… but in the best possible ways. Without words, my friends asked Harpocrates if I was still the person he hated so much. (288-289)

He’s still Apollo, but they DON’T consider him to be the same person he was exactly. He seems pretty human, but in GOOD ways, and that change? That part of him? I believe they’re associating that with “Lester”, as that’s the name he’s been given as a human. He’s still Apollo - just because he’s changed, it doesn’t absolve him of what he’s done, and it is all part of him - but Lester represents the new experiences and new attitude he’s acquired, the person he’s become. “Lester” isn’t just the weakness and powerlessness he associates with being mortal, but also the strengths he’s gained from his new friendships, from seeing himself and the world clearly - well, mostly clearly anyway. Clearer than he ever has before.

“Lester” was originally a name assigned to him by Zeus as part of his humiliation, same as the rest of his “turning mortal” punishment. But like the rest of the punishment, I think it’s going to backfire. If the name “Lester Papadopoulos” exemplifies his time as a mortal, an experience Zeus is putting him through in order to punish and humiliate Apollo, frighten him and other gods from stepping out of line, then I doubt that, like the growth Apollo has experienced, that he would cast it away. I suspect that it will end up as an alias that he reclaims, a name that starts out as derogatory but that is soon worn as a badge of honor. He may be Apollo, but I can’t see him being ashamed of who he was as a mortal, as Lester Papadopoulos. 

“Apollo” is the sum total of who he is, but “Lester” represents a new part of him that he’s just now realizing is there, is actively growing and changing. He’s still struggling to integrate his new realizations into himself, but when he does, I think he’ll truly be himself.

We see some of this identity struggle hinted at throughout the book, like when talking with Lupa:

“My time,” I said. “For what, exactly?”

She nipped the air in annoyance. To be Apollo. The pack needs you.

I wanted to scream I’ve been trying to be Apollo. It’s not that easy! (95)

“Being Apollo” here obviously represents something deeper than just existing. But it doesn’t seem to really refer to just regaining power. Apollo actually says that he DOES know what she means - and to a certain extent, I think he’s right.

“Fine,” I relented. “I know what you mean. The last lines from the Dark Prophecy. I’ve reached the Tiber alive, et cetera, et cetera. Now I am supposed to ‘jive’. I assume that entails more than dancing and snapping my fingers. (96)

“Jiving” in this case appears, I believe, to refer to Apollo’s new revelations about who he is as a person, and the kind of person he wants to be. This is supported by what the arrow says when Apollo asks it how he’s supposed to “start to jive’, and the arrow basically says that it will think about that matter. After Apollo complains a bit about how he needs to know NOW, because they’re about to face Tarquin, this piece of conversation occurs:

“I appreciate a good boon as much as the next person. But if I’m going to contribute to this quest and not just cower in the corner, I need to know how” - my voice cracked “how to be me again.”

The vibration of the arrow felt almost like a cat purring, trying to sooth an ill human. ART THOU SURE THAT IS THY WISH?

“What do you mean?” I demanded. “That’s the whole point! Everything I’m doing is so-” (138)

Here, Apollo’s still associating being “himself” with his godly power, but the arrow implies something different. And is trying to comfort him about it, which is a sharp departure from its usual attitude in previous books.

Apollo talks to the arrow again later, while on the excursion with Meg and Reyna, and it has this to say:

THOU HAST FOUND THY GROOVE. AT LEAST THE BEGINNINGS OF THY GROOVE. I SUSPECTED THIS WOULD BE SO, GIVEN TIME. CONGRATULATIONS ARE MERITED. (266)

I have my suspicions about what his “groove” is here. This takes place just after the three of them fend off the ravens, after Meg and Reyna found out about some of the horrible things Apollo had done in the past, and he comes to these realizations:

“Can we talk about this later?” I pleaded. “Or perhaps never? I was a god then! I didn’t know what I was doing!”

A few months ago, a statement like that would have made no sense to me. Now, it seemed true. I felt as if Meg had given me her thick-lensed rhinestone-studded glasses, and to my horror, they corrected my eyesight. I didn’t like how small and tawdry and petty everythin looked, rendered in perfect ugly clarity through the magic of Meg-O-Vision. Most of all, I didn’t like the way I looked - not just present-day Lester, but the god formerly known as Apollo. (252-253)

I wanted to sing for Reyna, to prove that I had indeed changed. I was no longer the god who’d had Koronis killed and created ravens, or cursed the Cumaean Sibyl, or done any of the other selfish things that had once given me no more pause than choosing what dessert toppings I wanted on my ambrosia.

It was time to be helpful. I needed to be repulsive for my friends! (256)

I think this realization - of how horrible he had been while a god, of how he had changed, of his determination to BE a different person than he once was, while still acknowledging who he’d been in the past - I think THAT is his groove. His jive. Not just him realizing who he was, but turning his determination to make things better into power.

It’s reinforced later with him thinking about how hollow he feels:

When had I last felt “whole”? I wanted to believe it was back when I was a god, but that wasn’t true. I hadn’t been completely myself for centuries. Maybe millennia.

At the moment, I felt more like a hole - a void in the cosmos through which Harpocrates, the Sibyl, and a lot of people I cared about had vanished. (316)

Honestly, I don’t know that he was ever really “himself” in the way he thinks. Some of the worst things he did, he did in ancient times. He just may not have recognized it as such at the time. But as the time passed, I’d imagine that existence would have grown more hollow, as he doesn’t seem to have formed many deep bonds - mostly surface-level ones that he fooled himself into thinking were deep, like when he convinced himself that he loved the Cumaean Sibyl.

His comparisons between himself and the Emperors when referring to his encounters with Harpocrates shows this to some extent:

The emperors would’ve considered Harpocrates just another dangerous, amusing plaything, like their trained monsters and humanoid lackeys.

And why not let King Tarquin be his custodian? The emperors could ally themselves with the undead tyrant, at least temporarily, to make their of Camp Jupiter a little easier. They could let Tarquin arrange his cruelest trap for me. Whether I killed Harpocrates or he killed me, what did it matter to the Triumvirate in the end? Ether way, they would find it entertaining - one more gladiator match to break the monotony of their immortal lives. (273)

This description sounds an awful lot like the Olympian gods attitude, with them not caring what happens to demigods much, just using others as entertainment. So long as they weren’t majorly threatened, why should they care? They can just sit back and watch, like Apollo talked about doing back in The Dark Prophecy when he was a god:

When I was a god, I would have felt delighted to leave the mortal heroes to fend for themselves. I would have made popcorn and watched the bloodbath from a distance on Mount Olympus, or simply caught the highlight reel later. (283)

Apollo’s directly compares himself to the emperors soon afterwards, when reliving Harpocrates memories from his point of view:

The god glared at me. He forced painful images into my mind: me stuffing his head into a toilet on Mount Olympus; me howling with amusement as I tied his wrists and ankles and shut him in the stables with my fire-breathing horses. Dozens of other encounters I’d completely forgotten about, and in all of them I was as golden, handsome, and powerful as any Triumvirate emperor - and just as cruel. (279)

Apollo hasn’t been the kind of person he really saw himself as - the kind of person he wishes to be since - well, I don’t know if it was EVER. Certainly not for a VERY long time. He and the Emperors aren’t as different as he’d like... or WEREN’T, at least. Though the Emperors were more outwardly cruel, with none of Apollo’s good qualities, it seems. 

But that’s changed now. Apollo can see who he was and is trying to change, to be someone better. He can’t fix everything - an apology won’t undo the Cumaean Sibyl’s or Harpocrates suffering - but he can make things better NOW.

As the Emperors invade, his summoning seems to have failed everything looks hopeless:

The emperors obviously wanted to send a message: they intended to dominate the world at any cost. They would stop at nothing. They would mutilate and maim. They would waste and destroy. Nothing was sacred except their own power.

I rose unsteadily. My hopelessness turned into boiling anger. I howled, “NO!” (340)

This - now this is when I think he TRULY jives. He rejects hopelessness, he rejects weakness, he rejects despair. The world may be going down in flames, but he’ll fight it. He can’t change the past, but the present? Now THAT he can do something about.

He charges in and fights against hopeless odds, without a plan even, because he’s NOT going to just stand by and watch people die. Not anymore. 

His divine powers return somewhat. He survives a blow that should have killed him, he punches Commodus so hard his armor dents, and after Frank’s supposed death, he literally screams Commodus into ashes. Even before that, when he truly thinks he’s about to die fighting Commodus, he doesn’t waste time worrying about his death. He fights to at least hobble Commodus first, to cut his tendons so that even if he dies, he’ll have made it easier for someone else to take him down. He never stops fighting, he never gives up, even when he believes he can’t save himself anymore. He’s at least begun to figure out who he is now, and to act on it. He’s been having his old self torn down and rebuilt nearly from scratch, and this is the result. 

His heroism, how he’s changed - it’s reflected in another character at the end of the book. Don the faun has appeared before, both in TTT and SON, and he’s supposedly been pretty useless, like most fauns. But here, in this book, he was useful, though scared. He even helped the other nature spirits to sabotage the Emperor’s weapons, staying behind on the ships, sacrificing his own life to ensure that it was done right. He survives, but not for long. As he’s dying, he talks with Apollo:

“Hey, Apollo, you- you know the difference between a faun and a satyr…?”

[…]

A moment later, his body collapsed with a noise like a relieved sigh, crumbling into fresh loam. In the spot where his heart had been, a tiny sapling emerged from the soil. I immediately recognized the shape of those miniature leaves. Not a hemlock. A laurel - the tree I had created from poor Daphne, and whose leaves I had decided to make into wreaths. The laurel, the tree of victory.

One of the dryads glanced at me. “Did you do that…?”

I shook my head. I swallowed the bitter taste from my mouth.

“The only difference between a satyr and a faun,” I said, “is what we see in them. And what they see in themselves. Plant this tree somewhere special.: I looked up at the dryads. “Tend it and make it grow healthy and tall. This was Don the faun, a hero.” (398-399)

The difference between a satyr and a faun, in other words, is nothing physical. It’s societal and psychological. I believe that Apollo is also, to an extent, talking about gods and mortals. The gods have long believed that they can’t change and mature like mortals, but also, largely, that they don’t need to because they’re gods; they’re above mortals. But Apollo has seen - has experienced - that that isn’t true. That mortals and gods may have different power levels, but at their heart, they’re not so different.

It also says something about his more recent state, as Lester, when he’s considered himself useless - when others have considered him... well, not exactly useless, but not all that useful either in the early books. But sort of like with Don, the difference between him and the demigod heroes, who are at sort of similar power levels, more has to do with what people see in him, and what he sees in himself. How he’s thinking about himself now. What it means to be a hero. To be a good person.

By the end of the book, Apollo’s regained a lot of his godly power, but it hasn’t changed who he’s become. Because it was never godhood that made him who he was, him beginning to regain that godhood isn’t changing who he is, who he’s become, what he’s gained from being Lester. I know some people have worried about Apollo potentially rejecting godhood, but I really don’t see that happening. He’s already regaining his godhood on HIS terms. The power from godhood was never the problem. Only what that godhood was used for.

Personally, I suspect that he’ll continue to use Lester sometimes, as a reminder of that part of his life, of what he’s learned, of what he’s become, even after he’s regained all his power. He may even keep something similar to his Lester form (though I suspect with less flab and acne). But he’ll keep the power. Because he can use that to help others, to try to make up in some small way for all that he’s done.

#trials of apollo #ttt spoilers #lester papadopoulos #the tyrant's tomb #the tyrant's tomb spoilers #toa #ttt #analysis

[f-agee]

I'm not really good at prompts but here goes nothing.

Claudette is beside herself when she finds out she's pregnant. For most people, this would be fantastic news. Hell, it would have been great news for her if there weren't a few significant issues. The first being that's she's stuck in an almost constant state of peril—second being that she has to find away to keep now not only herself safe but also her unborn child. The last issue but definitely not least is that the father of her child isn't exactly the friendliest or even friendly to begin with.

Claudette/ Frank or (whoever you pick I can't pick between Michael ,Evan ,Frank ,Kazan ,or Pyramid head)

It’s on ao3 if you wanna read it there too. I decided to do Pyramid head cause I like him and it was more interesting compared to some other killers for me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24712846

For the first time after being trapped into the Entity, Claudette cried. She honestly thought all her tears have dried out by now. Every trial being an all too familiar torture she couldn’t even produce tears for anymore, but leave it to the Entity to find a new way to torture its inhabitants. In the end she can’t even blame the Entity for her mistake, it was even kind enough to grant her odd and unusual wish for a pregnancy test after she started getting sick. The dreaded object sat tossed aside carelessly near the log that she sat at, hidden away in the deepest part of an unexplored wood in order for her to feel comfortable enough to take it. It was her fault for not being careful, her fault for not thinking you could even get pregnant here, and her fault for even sleeping with the man in general. Despite everyone else she could try to blame, her newfound torturer was herself.

She tried to reason with herself a little, every act of negligence on her part did have a very valid reason to it. She never had her period since coming here, she’s had unprotected sex multiple times since being here, and if she was gonna be honest, she wouldn’t have even guessed that Pyramid Head was fertile. He seemed more like an entity himself rather than a regular human being. She would’ve been more concerned if she had slept with that Legion boy instead of him, but in the end she’d slept with him and was now facing the consequences of their actions.

There was nothing particularly bad about the man, except for the fact that he was a monster, and that was something that pained her more than usual. It was a somewhat ignorant thought that she would have never had otherwise, but in her grief, logic and empathy was starting to evade her. Claudette knew he was an intelligent beast. He responded to natural human conversation and was definitely capable of deeper thought despite his inability to speak them. They’ve had quite a few deep conversations before they started sleeping together, but for some reason Claudette felt a little disgusted with herself. Almost like she had slept with an animal and somehow found herself pregnant. The thought felt grotesque in her brain, and when she was more like herself, she felt that she should apologize to the man for even having such a thought cross her mind.

She hiccuped and cried harder into her hands. In a deeper part of her mind, she just knew her harsh and untrue thoughts were because of what he was to her. He was indeed monstrous to her both in stature and in nature. A born killer who preys upon the undeserving with no conviction would never make for a good father. She wished Jake had gotten her pregnant instead. They’ve had a few hook ups here and there towards the beginning of being trapped into the Entity.

Claudette couldn’t call it romantic, it was two people who were desperate for contact who wanted to feel a connection with someone they trusted. Their relationship remained platonic despite what they’d have done, and they were both fine with that. Claudette would’ve felt bad if she had thrusted a child onto him for something so inconsequential to both of them, but at least it would’ve been easy. It would’ve been a whole hell of a lot less complicated if it weren’t for the fact that the real father was a non verbal killer. It would’ve been one less situation to torture herself with.

She knew the father wasn’t Jake. They haven’t slept together in what seemed like years, and Claudette hasn’t had sex with any one else recently except for Pyramid Head. Oh God, to think that her baby daddy doesn't even have a name, just a title to call himself, made Claudette feel sick again. Once again, she shouldn’t be attacking him for things that he neither is, nor can he control, and she would definitely apologize to him later, but her child’s growth and future would absolutely be affected negatively by their bloody heritage. It’s already horrible enough to grow up in a place like this, but to have a visible murderer and torturer as your father doesn’t help.

She wonders if the baby would even make it. She’s so lucky she hasn’t died recently, but luck in this place dies just as quickly as the inhabitants it affects. Who knows what’ll happen to the baby if she dies, especially if her killer damages her stomach in the process? She knows that she’ll come back ok, but what about her unborn child? If her baby dies from her inability to protect it, the grief it will cause her would kill her again. She wouldn’t even know when she would have lost it. Prenatal care is almost impossible in this place, even more so with the fact that the only hospital in this realm has an ultra sadistic tormentor guarding it. She would have to wait to either miscarry in or out of a trial, or wait and see if her symptoms go away and she never grows bigger. She’ll sit and wonder if the Entity never put her baby back together like it did her after she died, just to start grieving for something that was dead months ago.

Even if her baby did survive, would they be healthy? Claudette could only imagine what it would be like to have continuous trauma to her womb during pregnancy. It’s not that she would love her child any less, quite the contrary actually, but she would always feel that it was her fault that her child wasn’t born as healthy as it could be. She also hoped that her child wouldn’t be afflicted with the same… condition as its father. She took the time to pause in her tears to laugh dryly. She could only imagine the torture of both carrying and birthing a child with a pyramid head. All of the cute little milestones of the baby moving around in her womb would slice her stomach open, or at least cause extensive, possibly irreversible damage to her. If it got bad enough it would probably be for the best to get an abortion, but God did she want this child. Despite every bad hand that's been dealt to her, she still loved this baby. She still wanted to make it work. She still wanted to see if she and Pyramid Head could be a family.

A family. That’s truly what she wanted at the end of the day. She definitely thought of the other survivors as her makeshift family, but this was different. To love someone dearly and have them love you back in such a way that only parents and their children could share. That’s what she wanted for herself. She wished she could’ve planned everything out better. If she was still going to have a child with Pyramid Head, she wanted them to be in love with each other. To at least have a romantic relationship before being saddled with a child. She wanted to have him love her, if not for her, then for the child. She’s seen what parents who hate each other’s guts do to children born between them, and she didn’t want another thing to add onto the child’s list of hardships. It’s not that she couldn’t have a loving relationship now, they’ve talked a lot and enjoyed each other's company many times before, but the chance that he wouldn’t love her in that way or would want anything to do with the child was far too high.

She’ll find out soon enough. It was for the best if she told him now before things got too deep. Her tears started to subside and before she knew it, she was already getting up to try and find a path that leads to Silent Hill. She only vaguely remembered the way to the confined hellscape, the killer being too new for habitual familiarity, and she hoped she didn’t stumble into any other killers territory. Afraid of what they could do to her if she walked into a particularly hostile domain, she started to feel herself tremble from more than just the tears.

She hadn’t even thought about it, but all of the extra stress that gets put on her could cause her to miscarry. Who cares if you escape a mad man’s clutches, when that same mad man scares you so past your wits that your own body kills the life inside it. Not to mention even if she survives the miscarry danger zone of the first few months, the further along she gets, the harder it is for her to run, hide, or help her friends. Try as her friends might they couldn’t do much for her if she couldn’t do it herself. None of them could face a killer toe to toe, and even as a group they can only save and protect the people who could help themselves out of a chase. If a killer truly wanted to kill a specific survivor, they will, and everyone who tries to stop them will only get hurt in the process. She can beg for mercy from the more kind and moralistic killers. Wraith, Legion, Huntress, hell maybe even the Oni may be more willing to turn a blind eye to her would be rounded form, but she knows for a fact that killers like Clown, Micheal and the Doctor would relish in the new ways they can torture her and would specifically seek her out in trials.

Her breathing got rapid and irregular. She was at the beginning of a panic attack and she knew it. This was all becoming too much for her. All this heartache, for a child that she wanted to keep. She needed to calm herself, knowing that it would do more harm than good if she let herself spiral, but her grief weakened mind couldn’t handle the onslaught of emotions. She paused in her steps, before falling to her knees. She didn’t even notice the startings of the familiar blood stained concrete, or the large figure walking towards her from a distance.

The ground shook slightly with the weight of Pyramid Head’s steps, small tremors getting stronger the closer he walked towards her. The even shaking gave her something to synchronize her breaths to, making her calm enough to at least be aware of her surroundings. Something must have gotten her there quicker or maybe she was just walking faster than she thought, either way she’s glad she made it here and not panicking alone in the forest. The sight of Pyramid Head clambering towards her would’ve scared her a month ago, but they’ve met up with each other like this a lot since then. It especially loses its impact after you’ve slept with a guy. Plus she had bigger fears on her mind than a man who seemed more concerned rather than bloodthirsty.

Claudette didn’t look up to him as he came to a stop directly in front of her. Her breathing had calmed down some, but she could still feel herself shaking violently. Only when the man kneeled down and put his hand on her shoulder, did she look up to him. She wondered how he could see with that thing on. If it were some sort of helmet, he would definitely only be able to give her a sideways glance, as he had to turn his head in order to not hit her with the metal contraption. He tilted his head even more to the side in concern, obviously asking a silent ‘What's wrong?’ To her. She knows she must look a mess to him, tear stained face and hyperventilating while sitting on the ground.

Her attack had mostly passed, but it’s disappearance did nothing to quell her shaking. She was definitely going to start crying again, and she didn’t even tell him what happened yet. The silence was starting to kill her. She wished either of them could speak to break the spell. She wished that she was strong enough to just let it all out. She wished that even when she did tell him that she was pregnant with his child, he could respond back and tell her exactly how he felt about the whole thing. She wished that she could’ve gotten pregnant under normal circumstances. Tears started to flow down her cheeks again as she whimpered softly.

Pyramid Head let out a startled low whine as he quickly shifted from letting go of her, to frantically waving his arms in front of her, then finally settling his large hands on her cheeks to both wipe her tears and let him have a clearer view of her face. He was definitely not used to comforting people, Claudette now knew that for a fact, but his genuine concern and eccentric way of doing it made Claudette feel a little better. She managed to let out a short teary laugh and put her hand up to hold his arm.

“Thank you,” She leaned into his touch and sighed. “I'm sorry... For the things I thought and said that you didn’t deserve. I’m sorry that I forced you into this position. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Now he looked even more confused than before. He paused in his ministrations and only seemed to stare at her. She knows he’s probably tired of her beating around the bush. She hasn’t said anything or done anything of substance since seeing him, only bawling her eyes out and panicking. She might as well get it out already, especially since, as a new killer, he gets called out often and could leave at any moment. She looked down, took a shaky inhale of breath, and licked her lips. Well… here goes nothing.

“Pyramid Head, I don’t know how it happened, but…” A pause.

“I-,” She looked back up at him. “I’m pregnant.”

She could feel him go stiff and even tighten his grip on her cheeks. As he made no further movements, Claudette felt the need to go on. To explain herself, to hear anything but the silence and the lack of clear emotion from the man.

“I asked the Entity to give me a pregnancy test, and it was positive… I want to keep it, if you don’t mind, but I don't know what to do. How we could survive, if we could survive. How I could raise them in a place like this,” Her eyes darted to and fro wildly, her hands following. She couldn’t help but to ramble. She needed someone there to listen, and here was just the man who needed to hear it. “God do I want this kid! I really do, but this is going to be so hard. And I don’t know if I’ll be raising the child alone or-”

Pyramid Head quickly grabbed her shoulders and shook them with a strong grunt. She finally looked up at him to see his large helm quickly swaying back and forth. This was somewhat unexpected to her, considering his lack of a positive reaction initially. Does he want to help raise the child? If so could her little fantasy of a happy family be closer to a reality? The thoughts ran laps around her mind. She felt her hopes starting to bubble up inside her. She wanted to see just how far she can press her luck.

“So… would you be willing to raise it with me?” A nod as his hand went down to softly palm her belly. She was starting to feel a smile coming on. “Well I don’t want to ruin what we have going on right now, but I was wondering if you wanted to.. I don’t know. Maybe start dating?”

There was a short pause that made Claudette’s heart drop a bit. She was going to backtrack on her words, but a confused grunt stopped her. She looked at him curiously as he pointed between them, made a lewd gesture with his hands, then formed a heart after he was finished. Claudette could feel her cheeks heat up at his display before questioning its meaning.

“Where we already dating when we had sex?” A curt nod was her only answer. She blinked stupidly for a second, then laughed at her ignorance. She was apparently worried about their relationship over nothing. She’s at least glad that she had one thing going positively for her.

“Sorry I didn’t realize. Most of the times I’ve had sex was mostly just flings, and to be honest it wasn’t a lot…” He put a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it, trying to comfort her.

“Well that’s at least two of my worries gone, but what about the more pressing issues. I don’t know if the baby could survive an attack or me dying. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, but what about the other killers? You can’t always be there to protect me,” They both looked down darkly at the grim situation. “I mean I could ask some killers not to target me. I know at least a few who wouldn’t hurt me-”

Pyramid Head gave a low growl at that. So that was a hard no, but they didn’t have a whole lot of options here, and Claudette knew that neither of them wanted to test the Entity’s rules on pregnancy death. Suddenly Pyramid Head made another noise as he then gestured to himself, then towards the sky. She took a moment to think about what he was trying to say.

“Are you gonna ask the Entity yourself?” Another nod. A killer asking the Entity for a favor worked out a lot better than a survivor asking for one, but Pyramid Head was new. Who knows if the Entity will trust him to keep promises or not, although he does have a good track record for kills so far. Claudette made a face. She didn’t like to take her chances with the Entity, but this was the only shot they got.

“Well… it’s worth a shot. I sure hope this works out.” She gave a reassuring smile as he rubbed her shoulder again. Eventually he pulled his hand off her shoulder, and opened up his arms to her for a hug. Claudette wasted no time taking him up on the offer, and quickly threw herself into the well needed hug. His hold was strong yet mindful of her small form. Strong bloodied hands lifted her carefully as he stood with her still in his arms. He walked them towards the main building, most likely on his way to the library, as was their usual hangout spot. The familiar scenery of the book filled room made Claudette feel the same sense of euphoria as when she’s in a garden. They definitely have a lot more to talk about, as difficult as some of the conversations may be they must be had. At least they had 9 months to think about the details.

#claudette morel #pyramid head #dbd prompts #dbd #submission

[mllemaenad]

Why is everybody keep forgetting that elves had quite some forces and were not some helpless souls? Why do ppl forget that it's their own racism that initially caused the war in the Dales? Why everybody dismisses Minaeves' story about how her clan treated the unwanted mages? I mean Chantry sucks big time, but can we please stop making elves into some magic creatures that only do good. They do not. None of the races and religions in Dragon Age is perfect, yet one has a particular bias from fandom

Hi Anonymous person.

Um. Sorry, but … what? That’s … a lot of vitriol. I’m … going to do this point by point.

Why is everybody keep forgetting that elves had quite some forces and were not some helpless souls?

No one is claiming that the elves were ‘helpless’ in the sense that they were children, or somehow unable to fight. Elven sources are a bit spotty, for solid ‘in universe’ reasons, but there’s enough on the Emerald Knights to understand that they kicked some serious arse.

But. By the time Orlais set its sights on the Dales, it had already steamrolled over a bunch of other nations, effectively doubling its original size.

The grand nation of Orlais occupies a full quarter of the Thedosian continent and extends its influence far beyond its shifting borders. In ages past, Orlais flexed its military muscle, threatening territory belonging to Nevarra and Tevinter and outright invading Ferelden. One could argue that the Emperor or Empress of Orlais, regardless of competency, is the second most powerful person in Thedas – the first, of course, being the Divine.

…

Together, the two [Kordillus Drakon and Area Montlaures] transformed Orlais from a few squabbling clans controlling their own city states into an empire. Hand in hand, they conquered well into modern-day Ferelden and Nevarra, stamping out any worship of the Old Gods as well as lingering Alamarri and Ciriane Deities.

– World of Thedas Volume II

Sure, we have an account of the massacre of a pacifist nation (note that they are also vilified by the text, even though they are literally ‘helpless souls’ being overrun and slaughtered by an empire), but that is going to be the exception to the rule. Most of these ‘squabbling clans’ would have had warriors and fortifications. It didn’t matter. Orlais invaded, defeated them, forced them to convert – and absorbed the survivors. The Orlesian empire is The Blob.

Do you … not get how massive this thing is? A quarter of Thedas is under direct Orlesian control. That’s what came for the Dales. An almost endless supply of soldiers and weapons and supplies against one newborn nation. That’s what’s so scary about empires, once they get going: they can take the resources of the people they conquered yesterday – including the bodies of the actual people to be used as soldiers or workers – and use them against you today.

So yeah: big picture, they were ‘helpless souls’ being knocked down by the biggest bully in Thedas. They put up a hell of a fight – even took Montsimmard for a while – but they didn’t have the resources of an empire to sustain them, so they were screwed.

Why do ppl forget that it’s their own racism that initially caused the war in the Dales?

Okay so … racism. I feel like I keep saying ‘empires are bad’ and ‘conversion by the sword is bad’ and … these are somehow controversial statements that people want to refute? That’s … just a little bit scary, you know?

The elven people quite famously worked with humans. Specifically with the Alamarri rebels who took down the Tevinter Imperium. You know: Andraste?

At Shartan’s word, the sky

Grew black with arrows.

At Our Lady’s, ten thousand swords

Rang from their scabbards,

A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:

Those who had been slaves were now free.

– Shartan 10:1.

– Dark Moon

There’s even a whole fucking verse about Shartan and his people making a bloody suicide run on the entire Tevinter army to try to rescue Andraste:

The Liberator drew the blade at his side

And charged the pyre, the freedom of the Prophet before his eyes,

But from the legion came a storm of arrows

Blacker than night. And the disciple who had fought side by side

With the Lady fell, along with a hundred of his People.

And among the Alamarri ten thousand swords fell to the ground in a chorus of defeat.

– World of Thedas Volume II

That’s pretty heroic! And pretty tragic! Elven slaves and human rebels standing side by side, fighting an empire. Winning, in the end, although at great cost. And yet what you’re trying to tell me is that the elves are ‘racist’ (also: not a great word to use in reference to an oppressed people because racism requires social power) rather than, say, justifiably worried about the growing power of a nascent empire?

He [Kordillus Drakon] began his holy quest at the ripe old age of sixteen by taking to the battlefield. At the time, each clan had its own variety of the cult of Andraste, its own rituals, traditions and versions of Andraste’s words. Young Drakon unified them by the sword.

– World of Thedas II

Orlais is aggressive and fanatical. It is running around slaughtering people who disagree with its religious beliefs. If you are a non-Andrastian nation sitting more-or-less on the Orlesian border, watching other nations fall and be forcibly converted – and those people just believed different things about Andraste – you have to know what’s coming. This really only goes one way. Are you really going to call closing your borders and prepping for conflict ‘racism’? Is that really the word you want to use?

Halamshiral, “the end of the journey,” was our capital, built out of the reach of the humans. We could once again forget the incessant passage of time. Our people began the slow process of recovering the culture and traditions we had lost to slavery.

But it was not to last. The Chantry first sent missionaries into the Dales, and then, when those were thrown out, templars. We were driven from Halamshiral, scattered. Some took refuge in the cities of the shemlen, living in squalor, tolerated only a little better than vermin.

– The Dales

Relations broke down completely when the Chantry sent missionaries. Because of course they did. The fact that Orlais fundamentally does not believe in religious freedom is the very thing that the elves are afraid of. It is also, you know, a pretext. Provocation meant to push the elves so they start something and Orlais can say it was their fault. There is almost always a pretext. The empire says it’s coming in to resolve a local conflict, or they’re dealing with an incident on the border, or they’re ‘liberators’. And then they stay. And they take.

Do you really mean to blame the elves for being conquered?

Why everybody dismisses Minaeves’ story about how her clan treated the unwanted mages?

No one has forgotten or dismissed Minaeve. Everyone is keenly aware that – on a meta level – Bioware did some quite ugly retconning in Inquisition to make both elves and mages look less sympathetic. Many people have noted that Minaeve’s story is the exact opposite of Lanaya’s story, and that neither Velanna nor Merrill talk about anything like that. Nevertheless, it is raised at least three times in Inquisition: by Minaeve, by Vivienne and by The Iron Bull. So yes, that is a deliberate retcon made at a late stage in the series in order to allow people to do exactly what you’re doing: yell that the elves are ‘just as bad’. It’s gross.

In universe, of course, it’s worth noting that Minaeve was seven when this happened. Whatever it was, it was terrible – but it may not have been what she thought. It’s also worth noting that the Dalish are wandering nomads with few resources, under constant threat from humans in general and templars in particular, and if they did find themselves forced to throw one mage child to the templars to protect the rest – that is fucking horrible, but says more about the world Orlais has created than it does about the elves.

But I have to ask – why do you think it’s so important that everyone remember a twenty-second pro-templar conversation with a minor character, instead of extensive conversations about elven society and losses with Merril and Velanna? Those are two grown women who have lived their whole lives as Dalish and have a keen understanding of the culture of their clans. Or whole novels about Fiona and Briala, respectively the leaders of the mage and elven rebellions?

I know the novels are supplementary material so I’m certainly not blaming anyone for being unfamiliar with them. But if there were things I wish people could always remember when talking about the elves – it would be those stories of oppression and revolution.

I mean Chantry sucks big time, but can we please stop making elves into some magic creatures that only do good. They do not. None of the races and religions in Dragon Age is perfect, yet one has a particular bias from fandom.

It’s … interesting that you brought ‘race’ into this. Because I didn’t. I haven’t been writing criticisms of ‘humans’. I’ve left the Rivaini alone; usually mentioned Fereldans favourably; I haven’t been talking about Antiva or Nevarra. They haven’t come up.

I was talking about the aggression of the Orlesian empire and its Chantry. The elves were brought up as possibly the people who have lost the most to Orlesian aggression. They’re certainly the best sourced of those people. I’ve talked about the Chasind and Avvar where I can (humans!). I’ve talked about dwarves and Qunari. I bring up the Daughters of Song and the Disciples of Andraste where I can, because I have references for them. I know that a whole lot of other cultures were destroyed by Drakon and his Chantry – but alas, I can’t say anything meaningful about them because there are no codex entries, in game dialogue or other reference materials for them.

Of course the elves are not ‘perfect’. While Zathrian’s rage is understandable, his decision to keep the curse going even when it began to threaten his clan was terrible. Merril’s clan was far too easily led to bully and exclude her; they were her family and someone should have stood up for her. Historically, the Dales probably made a mistake staying out of the Second Blight. I mean – I get it. The Blight softened up Tevinter enough to let the rebels take it down. It could have worked again against Orlais. But in retrospect – bad idea. Didn’t work.

Those are just examples. Of course there are more. But it doesn’t matter. That an elven character fucked up at some point does not change the fact that they face racial persecution as non-humans (and are pretty clearly coded as a combination of indigenous, Jewish and Romani people), that they face religious persecution as non-Andrastians and that the Orlesian empire stole their land and forced them into slums.

And I note all of this because of the … tenor of your Ask. Had you said something like “This elven stuff is great, but I’d like to chat about how the dwarves are basically facing an apocalypse and no one will help them, and also wouldn’t a story about a casteless revolution be great?” I would have said “Yes! Let’s talk about that!” Had you said something like “Isn’t it fucked up that the Qunari are treated largely as savage invaders, operating as an ‘Other’ it’s okay to hate?” I would have said “Yes! Yes, it is!”

But … this reads like a list of ‘reasons why people should stop pretending the elves don’t deserve to be oppressed’. And … somehow equates ‘Orlesians’ with ‘humans’?

I mean – surely you aren’t saying that our sympathies should not be with the frequently enslaved minority group who are forced to live as second class citizens in appalling slums, and who have been forcibly converted to a religion they don’t want to follow … but rather with the empire that took everything from them?

Because … I really hope not.

#dragon age #chantry critical #Anonymous

[visionofnoxus]

Ionian Campaign. Part IV. The Tipping Point.

PART I,   PART II,   PART III,   PART IV

Year 987 AN

War has escalated. The Ionians will to resist has soared after their victory at Placidium. They now fight the war against the invaders on every front, engaging in both guerrilla warfare as well as an open conflict. The Noxians lack the fortifications and their wasteful deployment plans earlier have taken a toll on the war effort. With the destruction of general Swain’s entire force, they are now the ones being pushed. General Darius holds the line, but his, just like everyone elses supply lines are being raided. 

Noxians are suffering sabotages and harassment in their back lines, having not dedicated enough troops and material into fortifications because of the strain caused by the long-distance raid-tactics employed last year. The invaders are desperate to hold on until reinforcements arrive, thrusting even children to the fires of war as the High Command goes on offensive, understanding it actually cannot defend effectively. War crimes have become a norm and desperate offensive up the Epool river is launched as a diversion. The attack fails and the troop is annihilated, but the enemy’s special forces are momentarily pulled off the main attack, relieving the pressure.

Finally new reinforcements arrive, bringing fresh troops to be thrown into the conflict. One of the new arrivals, warband leader Emystan, has contracted Zaunite chemists to assist in the war effort, introducing new, experimental weapon systems. She holds information of the nature of the weapons a secret, simply insisting on having orders to bring these new weapons to bear against the Ionians. Emystan is ordered to front lines in all due haste, another warband under the command of warband leader Riven, ordered along as an escort.

The convoy is ambushed, and the new chemical weapon is deployed as Riven’s forces get caught in an ambush. The weapon destroys the enemy and ally alike. No survivors are recorded.

As Emystan’s new weapons of war reach the front lines in Navori, the war takes a sudden, horrifying turn. The Noxians begin gaining decisive victories with the assistance of Zaunites experimental weapons, yet the cost is steep. The victories on the front lines fail to translate into progress due to the costs. Not only do the enemies and allies caught in the strikes die in horrible ways, but the very soil itself is rendered inhospitable.  During a battle, one of the Zaunite weapons misfires, causing destruction within Noxians’ lead and command elements. General Darius’ forces are remarkably hindered by this and the now corrosive soil’s influence, the general pulling back and even disengaging from the entire conflict.

Starting to understand the nature of their new weapon, Noxians begin deploying the chemical weapon in artillery strikes against targets considered too dangerous to assault. Many towns, villages and monasteries are burned to the ground with alchemist fire and corrosive acids. The southwestern coast of Ionia is undergoing a drastic, horrible change and the Ionians’ war effort grows more desperate by the day.

Year 988 AN

The yearly reinforcements do not arrive. The capitol insists on the troops being needed elsewhere, demanding further progress in war before offering more legions to the war.

There is a stir in Noxus Prime as general Swain re-emerges. Grand General kicks the failed commander out of military with dishonorable discharge, but does not move to end him, his advisors reciting a long and loyal service as a reason to spare the man’s life. Swain disappears soon after, many believing him to have been assassinated by Darkwill or having gone into hiding to avoid such a fate.

Admiral Duqual is being pushed to the limits, the commander withdrawing his troops constantly in a delaying tactic. He looks for a way to turn the tide or score a major victory against Ionia to showcase as proof of progress. The admiral’s forces are caught by Ionian resistance in a night offensive on Dalu Bay, the Ionians boarding the Noxian warships under the cover of night while they are anchored in supposedly safe location far off the coast. 

The battle is a chaotic melee in the night, ships being lit on fire and each frigate and warship turning into it’s own battle for survival and control. The Noxians attempt to keep control of their ships and drive off the attackers while more and more invaders swim and row over to the ships. By dawn, the battle is over, majority of the fleet captured or sunk and admiral Duqual laying dead on the deck of his command ship, slain by the hand of Xan Irelia, the leader of the Ionian resistance and the one known as the Hero of Placidium.

A coup-d’état takes place in Noxus, general Swain re-emerging and assassinating Boram Darkwill. Swain assumes the position of Grand General with the support of the powerful Du Couteau noble family and his personal trifarian revolutionary forces. The new grand general estimates that the empire is near breaking point with rebellions and long neglected commerce and infrastructure issues. All of it’s holdings are under threat, the nation's uncertainty of future threatening it’s stability as the other powers on the map look for signs of weakness. 

With the defeat at the Battle of Dalu Bay consuming what remaining true military power Noxus had in Ionia, the new Grand General orders an immediate seizure of hostilities. The High Command, understanding the situation’s hopelessness complies. The Noxians abandon all active theaters of war and retreat to their coastal, fortified positions. 

The empire offers Ionian leadership a seize fire and proposes peace negotiations. The bloodied and exhausted Ionia accepts the terms on the condition that Zaunites are immediately withdrawn from Ionia and forbidden from ever being deployed, regardless of the outcome of peace talks. The Noxian High Command accepts and the Ionian Conflict has officially ended. Minor skirmishes and hostilities carry on to this day, but war has ended before the end of the year 989 AN.

#Ionian campaign #Noxus worldbuilding #Ionia worldbuilding #and so it is finished #please comment what you thought of this whole display #it would mean a world to me to receive some feedback

[mobius-prime]

208. Sonic the Hedgehog #140

Return to Angel Island (Part 3): How Many Echidnas Does It Take to Protect a Master Emerald?

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Jon Gray Colors: Jason Jensen

So! We didn't forget that Lara-Le was pregnant a year ago, did we? Knuckles is completely stunned at the sight of his baby brother, and carefully hands him back, asking what his name is.

Honestly, this series of panels alone is enough to sell me on Jon Gray as an artist - I don't think anyone else could have pulled off this joke as well as he did. Anyway, yeah, this is in fact the Mace we briefly saw in StH#132, so clearly once he grew up he also agreed that Kneecaps is a horrible name and started going by Mace instead. That night, the echidna refugees all set up tents for Knuckles and his friends, but Knuckles is reluctant to accept the hospitality, still disturbed by everyone's reverence for him. He leaves, and Sonic is confused about his attitude, which Mighty says is likely influenced by the way everyone treats him differently after coming back from the dead. This draws a parallel in Sonic's mind between Knuckles' situation and his own with Sally, which I'm honestly surprised hasn't really been explored as of yet, considering it's one of the main things they currently have in common. Knuckles heads to the Hidden Palace, but ignores both Finitevus and Lien-Da when they try to ask him what he's doing, instead going straight for the Master Emerald in the chamber beyond. There, he sits just far enough from it that the pain doesn't affect him, and reflects on his choices up till now.

Okay, first of all Knuckles, we already established that you hardly came back for egotistical reasons. You fully accepted the fact that returning from the afterlife would have consequences, and came back anyway to save literally everyone on the planet from being sucked into a black hole. I'd say that's a worthy goddamn reason to go against Aurora's warnings. And second of all, Archimedes?! Dear lord, it's been… what, sixty-six freaking issues since we last saw you! Why do you look so evil there? Like seriously, it's a weird design choice, because when I first read this I was worried that Archimedes was being mind controlled or had gone evil or something, but I'll spoil it right now for you that he's totally fine and his excitement over his predictions being true is completely benevolent. I'm honestly sad that we haven't seen him in so long, because I actually quite like Archimedes, and enjoyed the larger role he played in earlier issues, particularly throughout a lot of the KtE series. He's been relegated to barely more than a bit part at this point, even though he and Knuckles seemed to be building such a good rapport when they first met.

Anyway, General Kage contacts Eggman to inform him of the invasion of one of the prison camps by Knuckles and his entourage, and Eggman becomes angry, telling Kage to work harder to root the disturbance out and get things working more smoothly on the island. M, repaired by now and with a fresh coat of "makeup," suggests that she go to Angel Island to oversee things, but Eggman vetoes that, right as they walk past a room ominously labeled "Snively Processing Lab," with a horrifyingly familiar silhouette inside being experimented on. It's clear that in the year that has passed, Eggman has reduced Snively to nothing better than fuel for his experiments - we've only seen him one other time since Sonic returned, and he seemed utterly terrified of his boss. Given his hatred of his uncle, and how this version of Robotnik is even more brutal than the original, I feel genuinely bad for him. Eggman reassures M that he knows just how to fix things on Angel Island, and goes to release someone from a prison pod in his base, equipping the mysterious prisoner with a control collar to ensure total obedience…

The next morning, Knuckles is awoken from where he passed out in front of the Master Emerald by Julie-Su - apparently, their double agent in the dingoes' ranks has contacted them with Locke's location, and so the full force of the Dark Legion, as well as Knuckles and all his friends, all make for the base in Dingo City where he's being held, with Espio surprisingly swearing up a storm as they take the Legion's hovercraft. As they race to the rescue, we finally get a clue as to where our favorite dingo has been all this time! How ya doing, Harry old boy?

Oh, gee, not so good, I see. The general is distracted from Harry dropping his breakfast in a fright by a call from Eggman, who tells him that if Locke isn't going to give up the information, it's time to cut their losses and "terminate" him. However, at that exact moment, the cavalry bursts in and begins beating the dingo sentries into the ground.

Knuckles immediately rushes to get his father down, and despite his rough treatment Locke is relatively okay, if weak. Kage tries to get back up, but Sonic and Knuckles merely grin at each other and punch him right back into unconsciousness. However, before they can congratulate themselves too much, Eggman projects his face as a hologram at them, as he is wont to do, and gloats that Locke was only one of his methods for finding the Master Emerald. While they've been busy in the city, Eggman has sent someone else to attack the echidna refugees' camp… and it's none other than Hunter from the ending of the KtE series, powered up and ready to wreak havoc once more!

Mobius 25 Years Later: A Difference of Opinion

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jason Jensen

In stark contrast to the sense of fierce camaraderie born of fire that Sonic and Knuckles share in the previous story, here we get to finally see their older counterparts interact one on one and be all hostile for no reason. Well, actually, we do get a reason. Knuckles finds Sonic lounging outside on his nightly walk, and invites him along for a chat, with their wives secretly watching from the windows and hoping they'll be able to work things out. Sonic is apparently skeptical of Rotor's claims of approaching armageddon, while Knuckles is more inclined to believe him. Sonic is then forced into some contrived dialogue that conveniently leaves him free to explain in detail exactly what caused them to start hating each other so much. Instead of typing out a summary here, I'm gonna go ahead and let the comic explain the whole thing for me, so you can see for yourself how much this sucks.

This… this is literally the worst thing we've seen so far. Okay, okay, maybe not the worst - Sonic trying to drown his own son really takes the cake - but it's up there. This entire backstory is built entirely on the idea of Knuckles literally trying to rewrite reality in the middle of an out-of-nowhere god complex and then facing absolutely no repercussions for it afterward aside from the loss of an eye. This is the reason that Julie-Su is missing her cybernetics - because sometime in the past, Knuckles, without even asking her what she wanted, took them from her, simply because he apparently thought she'd be better off without them. And now, he still considers Sonic to be the bad guy of the story, because Sonic had the nerve to consider Knuckles trying to reshape their entire world the way he liked it to be a threat to their continued peaceful existence. And as far as Knuckles losing an eye as a result, all things considered, that is not bad at all. I mean sure, losing any body part sucks, but in this universe one can be outfitted with various cybernetics that are better that the original organic part they're replacing, and as Sonic points out, the technology exists to just give him back his organic eye with no lasting side effects. Furthermore, Knuckles also seems put out that Sonic prevented him from becoming a Chaos-Emerald-powered god, even though literally not that long ago we just saw how badly things turn out when that happens! You freaking died, Knuckles! I can't even begin to put my disdain for this backstory into proper words, it's so bad. Like, there's not even one single thing I can pin down to explain how bad it is - it's just a jumbled mess, and such a disappointment. I mean, all this time I've been pointing out how out of character it is for Sonic and Knuckles to hate each other, but since we didn't know why they hated each other there was always the chance that later on the story would finally reveal to us the real reason for their enmity, and that it would change everything, revealing some unknown details that explained everything we've seen and made it totally believable. This story not only failed to do that, it has actually done the opposite, making their rivalry less believable and making Knuckles feel just as out of character as everyone else so far. Like, I'm seriously surprised that Kenders would do this to his favorite character in the series, because it just makes Knuckles seem so unsympathetic and unlikable that it basically renders a lot of his character development up till now seem totally pointless. Like, just… why?

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 140 #writer: karl bollers #writer: ken penders #pencils: jon gray #pencils: steven butler #colors: jason jensen

[guardianofmemes]

Mojave Morality; or Why Some Factions are Mixed but Legion Bad and Can We Stop Denying it

When it comes to asking which faction is Good and Evil, you may first think the NCR are the clear good guys, or that Mr. House will lead to greater standard of living. But friends, we should take into account the futures of these factions and the potential social changes that would take place within them, Vegas or not!

The Republic is an imperialist, expansionist nation with economic disparity and a government controlled by the rich few. Still, it is possible for a social and political revolution to take place, as the people still can directly vote and there are few senate seats, and they are EXTREMELY sick of the right-wing policies that have occurred over the last two decades, which are a recent departure from the rest of the nation’s history, under Tandi and Aradesh. And it is still entirely possible the people could overthrow the government with some measure of ease. The nationalistic nature of the United States has not yet had chance to fully take root in the Republic, most people consider themselves citizens of the Boneyard or Hub before being citizens of the Republic, members of the military included. The draft isn’t popular. And while their war crimes are less than America’s, they exist.

Independent Vegas, well this one isn’t really detached from the big factions, its entirely dependent on you choosing that path for that specific territory. But from cut content we can see that the Strip was barely being held together under Mr. House as it is, and it all goes straight to chaos as soon as you come to power. Still, the actual villages and towns of the Mojave are rather well-off and prosper under their own rule, as independent settlements under no central authority. With this comes a lack of centralized ability to project force and protect the lone  communities, so they are left to their own defense as well. Tiny micro-nations.

Mr. House has always been more machine than man, even before he got hooked up on life support gone wrong. He lacks empathy, does not consider other people to actually be people, just pieces to move around on the game board, a game he is playing against reality. He wants to spit in the eye of the mystic, the divine, in the belief of human kindness and capacity for peaceful co-existence. This is just how the man is, a true Ayn Rand protagonist, the Great Man wrought to existence. And how would the Great Man rule exactly? Through force of arms, but not even with a slight veneer of self determination or free will. A board of directors to rule his new galactic megacorporation empire made manifest, yet it would be a board he could overturn at any moment on a whim. He alone, playing the entire human race like a video game, Civilization IV or Stellaris, just looking at the spreadsheet of numbers as little pixels move around, making decisions that simplify the equation, like wiping out the Brotherhood because they are a stray variable he cannot account for in his grand plans. He has the ability and intellect to rebuild the industrial sector, maybe even take us to space, but that’s the problem with the Rich isn’t it? They’d rather abandon this planet and just find an easier solution than get their hands dirty fixing this world. 

And we come upon him at last, the tyrant of tyrants, he who wishes to defy his fate even more desperately than Robert House himself. The plagiarist with a real severe case of hypocrisy and Brain Disease, its time for Caesar. Why do I say Caesar instead of Caesar’s Legion? Because he is the faction, he is the glue that binds the whole operation together. Its not at all a hot take, even in the game itself they acknowledge as soon as Caesar dies, the Legion will split among its squabbling generals and the territory will fall to chaos, because his men follow the man himself, not his ideals. As a fascist, he has no true ideals, the man shifts with whatever works best. Guns are normally forbidden to them, but a Centurion conquered an entire tribe of strong warriors with his minigun? Well now give him a suit of special commemorative armor and let him keep using it. No modern medicine yes, men must be stronger than such luxuries? But he will very openly tell you about the auto-doc he bestows upon those he favors, and has no problem with you removing his tumor. The man is weak of spirit and will, he seeks to make himself known in history, to last beyond his death. And so we come to his mid-life crisis, life under Caesar’s Empire. One could say yes, its safe to live in his territory, the regular patrols excise the tumor that are raider gangs and hostile wildlife. But is that a reason to excuse the tithes one must pay to his Legion? The young men taken to serve, the women taken for slave labor and much more horrible things? The public executions and mass torture over minor trespasses, such as possessing recreational drugs? A total lack of political freedom, zero social mobility; a world that even if you somehow view going back thousands of years in terms of social, technological, and political progress to the age of the tyrant as GOOD, will collapse as soon as he dies of his brain tumor, old age, tripping over a landmine, or assassination? If that is really what you see as the ideal world, or somehow a neutral society in terms of morality, I really don’t know what to tell you. I wish I knew what to say.

#fallout #fallout new vegas #NCR #Legion #Caesar's Legion #Mr. House #Independent Vegas #wew the post ended up being so long i wanted to just #make it into its own post as well #wahoo it was a real stream of consciousness thing