#to be fair this is the one with the link so its clearly more important

[alesbianperson]

football player!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: At the football play you visited to support your best friend, something happens that you didn't expect.

warnings: smoking (weed); slightly implied loser Ellie at the end; swear words; girls kissing (what a surprise); my writing idk

authors note: so firstly I mean football as soccer and not american football, but its not important to the plot so it can be interpreted as either; secondly, sorry for being so inactive I actually needed fucking half a year just for this its actually embarressing, I'm really slow at writing I don't know why, but I'm trying to be more active. I also didnt proofread so sorry for grammar mistakes or something anyway I hope you enjoy this!!

ALSO BIG DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN AND THE FACT THAT HE SUPPORTS ISRAEL!! If you don't know whats going on in Palestine, please go educate yourself because its highly important.

Here are a few links, so nobody can say it's too complicated or annoying to search for information (besides its really fucking heartless, cruel and totally not human to say "I dont wanna put effort in researching" while people are literally suffering and dying because of a genocide):

General information/updates

Brands to boycott

How you can help Palestine

Palestine masterposts: 1 2

--☆--

This evening was the final football game of the season. Everyone was so excited, and your best friend played in the school team, so of course, you came to this game to support her. You already arrived a bit late because you took a nap and didn't hear the alarm, so you quickly searched for your friends who were already sat and luckily saved you a seat. When they saw you coming in, they waved you over to them.

"What took you so long? The game has already started!" One of them said before switching their attention back to the field. "Sorry, I overslept." You explained yourself sitting down on your seat. "You didn't miss much, just a foul from the other team. They're so annoying and clearly playing anything but fair." Another one of your friends said, rolling her eyes while offering you a bag of chips. You declined and began searching for your best friend between all the other players, running on the field. Not even five seconds later, you found her. With the ball in front of her, she ran towards the goal. You joined the cheers of everyone from your school, sure that this was going to be such a great goal until:

A girl from the other team came out of nowhere, running towards her, tackling her to the ground. You gasped. "That was another foul!" One of your friends exclaimed, standing up to better see what the referee would say. But instead of also looking at the referee, your gaze still hasn't left the girl, responsible for the foul.

She looked pleased with herself. What an asshole! You thought to yourself, but couldn't deny that the way her eyes sparkled in the light and her auburn hair moved in the wind was mesmerising. Too distracted by her features, you realised a bit late that she was eyeing you too. A smirk on her lips, she winked at you before walking off the field, your eyes still on her.

"Too bad that bitch just got a yellow card. She deserved more, right?" Your friends, already discussing the decision of the referee, were turning to you since you were the only one who didn't comment on it. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realised you hadn't listened the whole time, busy gushing over that girl. "Yeah.. definitely more." Was all you said to not keep the attention on you.

"Guys," you added after a short pause, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back."

"Sure."

"But hurry, they're already playing again."

You just slightly nodded before walking off to search for the bathrooms. To your luck, they weren't far away from your seats, so it didn't take too long to find them. As you closed the door behind you, a strong smell of weed filled your lungs. Holding a hand in front of your mouth, you coughed reflexively.

"Having trouble breathin', princess?"

You turned around to see the girl who fouled your best friend sitting on the sink, her legs slightly swinging forwards and back. She still wore her tricot but now had a grey, dirty, worn-out jacket over it. The half up half down bun she had was messed up, probably because of the constant running on the field, and between two of her fingers, she held an already half smoked joint.

Her smile rose as she noticed your gaze lingering on her again. "Y'want a photo? It'll last longer." She chuckled, finding this old ass joke very funny. You rolled your eyes at her words but couldn't help the smile, forming on your lips. "What are you doing here anyway, don't you have to play?" She blew out the smoke she held in her mouth before answering your question. "My coach replaced me. Said I needed a break before playing again." You just nodded because you didn't know how to keep the conversation going. For a few seconds, you both just looked at each other in silence. After taking another drag from the joint, she leaned forward, offering you to do the same.

"No, thanks. I don't smoke."

"Thought so." She chuckled. After a short pause, she added: "Not in a rude way, of course. Y'just don't look like you'd do drugs." Even though you knew it was childish and totally stupid, you now wanted to prove to her that you were indeed someone who could take drugs. So you took the joint out of her hand, carefully brought it to your lips, and inhaled.

You probably shouldn't have inhaled this deep because now you were coughing like someone poured tons of sand down your throat. It surely felt like it. When you calmed down a bit, you looked up again, handing the joint back to the girl on the sink, who was clearly amused. "What a brave girl." She said with a shit eating grin on her face. "Come here, I'll show you how it's done right."

She gestured between her spread legs. As you moved towards her, she leaned in, reducing the space between the two of you. "Open your mouth." She then proceeded to take a drag from the joint. As she moved closer, your breath hitched. Your eyes wandered from her gorgeous green ones down to her lips, and heat rose in your cheeks again. Without breaking eye contact, she blew the smoke she had in her mouth into yours. Reflexively, you closed it.

"Now hold it in."

And that's what you did. The smoke filled your lungs, this time a lot less painful than your first drag. After a few seconds, you exhaled slowly, a small smile of pride on your face.

Your faces were still very close, and silence fell upon the both of you again. The tension thickend. Her emerald green eyes stared directly into yours, abruptly blinking down to your lips. "Can I kiss you?" Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, fading into thin air. A smirk grew once again on her lips before nodding and then proceeding to lean in and closing the gap between the two of you.

Once her lips were on yours, she cupped your cheek, her fingertips brushing slightly over it. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Her lips were so soft. You couldn't really describe the feeling, but it felt good. Like you were on cloud nine. You quickly synced with the rhythm she set, leaning forward so that her back met the wall behind her.

Your hands wandered behind her neck, beginning to tug on her hair slightly. A soft groan escaped her lips at the sudden impact, which sounded like music to your ears.

A smile formed on your lips once she broke the kiss to catch her breath. "What're you smiling at?" She looked at you irritated, which just caused you to chuckle.

"I don't know. You're.. pretty."

Silence followed after that.

"Pretty enough to get your number?"

Ellie wanted to bash her head against the wall at her cringe comment. She thought she'd definitely crossed the line now. But you just began laughing, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound.

"Sorry. Don't get me wrong I-", you interrupted yourself by holding up your finger to signal her to wait and began searching for your phone in your purse. Fuck. You thought as you realised you left it in your jacket with your friends and hurriedly searched around for something to write on. Ellie just watched you amused, catching on to your plan. She snatched a pepertowel out of the spender and offered it to you. You just gave her an awkward smile, fishing a half empty kajal out of your purse and scribbled your phone number on it.

As you handed it to her, she took it with the same smirk she had in the beginning. "As sad as it is, I think I have to go back on the field. My coach probably misses me by now." She added hesitantly while sliding off the sink and walking towards the door. "Cool meeting you, though." The click of the closing door was the last thing you heard before you were completely alone in the bathroom.

With the paper towel still in her hand, Ellie made her way over to the rest of her team, almost jumping with joy and thanking every mighty power for letting her survive the whole conversation without completely losing her mind or embarrassing herself. She'd definitely save your number as soon as she could. Actually contacting you was a whole other story.

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x f!reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou x reader #wlw #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #football player!ellie williams #ellie the last of us #sapphic #tlou ellie

[snowyh2o]

So, saw a video on YouTube that was analyzing if Alastor exhibited traits similar to someone diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. It was interesting, if a bit superficial and missing a lot of the smaller blink and you’ll miss it details (as well as for some reason omitting his past relationships and focusing only on his current ones), but it got me thinking about how much we know of who Alastor is.

And I think that we actually know a lot more about who he is as a person and what makes him tick than we think we do. What we don’t know is what his situation currently is, and that’s sort of conflated with not knowing or being sure of him and his motivations.

So to list what we do know of him in no specific order:

He claims he’s sponsoring the hotel because he wants to watch other people fail for his own entertainment, something that we know for sure now is not the case, or not the entire reason.

He was very desperate when making that deal with Charlie, this is something he was probably aiming for and has been waiting to do for a long time.

His disappearance is a sore spot that he doesn’t want others to be prying into.

He’s trapped in a deal that appears to be restricting either his actions, power, or both and he desperately wants to get out of the deal.

Related, the deal appears to be new, based off Husk’s comment and Alastor’s reaction/surprise at the comment.

Related, he HATES being reminded of his deal.

All his shown past friends are women. Conversely, he seems to get along well with women over men.

Related, he lets Mimzy, Nifty, and Rosie all touch or manhandle him around without showing discomfort or distaste. He also lets Husk poke him in the chest, and appears to have grown equally as comfortable around Charlie.

Related, he offers Charlie his microphone twice when she needed to do a big inspiring speech.

Related, his microphone appears directly linked to some of his powers, and could also be considered a weakness of his should it be broken.

He knows that Mimzy only ever comes to him when she needs something, and doesn’t care that he’s being manipulated and taken advantage of into taking care of her problems. In fact, Mimzy stated that he loves taking care of her (problems).

Related, the hotel is important enough that he can’t risk having that kind of behavior with Mimzy here, that he’s willing to shoo away one of his few friends he’s genuinely happy to see.

Rosie is his best friend, he’s the most comfortable with her and while in Cannibal town. It’s the only time we’ve seen him so cheerful and relaxed and smile like he means it. His smiles here are wide enough to show his gums, but his eyes and lips reveal its not just a well disguised snarl.

Related, he’s very excited to show off Cannibal town to Charlie when he brings her over.

Related, he hasn’t gone to see Rosie since the overlord meeting despite having had 5 months to do so after coming back from his hiatus.

Related, he doesn’t ask for Rosie to help during the battle, he specifically restates his favor to “well your cannibals help at least”. She’s seen sipping tea and listening to the news in the aftermath.

His beef with Lucifer started way before he ever met the guy. In his advertisement, he makes a note to say there’s no tacky circus decor at the hotel. When he sees the welcome sign he visibly sneers at it. When Lucifer finally shows up and hugs Charlie his eye is twitching.

Related, whatever beef he has with Lucifer is unrelated to Lucifer’s attitude towards him when they finally meet, though that certainly does not help.

Related, it’s also clearly not about being the most powerful person in the room because he doesn’t behave that way when speaking with Zestial, or during the overlords meeting.

Related, he’s bothered when Carmilla reveals she wasn’t curious about his absence (which fair. I’d hope my colleagues would ask where I’ve been if I went MIA for 7 years).

He offers Charlie advice on projecting confidence and control when she’s not, a tactic he employs every minute of every day.

He tends to be helpful but in a backhanded way. He helps Charlie get out of her funk by being mean about it and mocking her for accidentally landing the hotel in hot water. He summons an old fashioned mint condition camera for Vaggie at first before replacing it with a beat up and bandaged video camera. He helps Vaggie with the advertisement after watching her struggle. He does get rid of the eggs, but only for a day by taking them with him on his overlord meeting trip.

Related, more miscellaneous menial labor is usually done straightforwardly, like fixing the wall, for the umpteenth time and apparently unclogging the toilet when nifty gets stuck.

He likes listening to people vent about and struggle with their situation.

He does not like listening to people vent about and struggle with their love life.

Whatever he’s up to it appears as though he’s truly thrown his lot in with Charlie and the hotel, at least for now.

Apparently used to be friends or friendly with Vox. And will let people take a picture of him if it’s with an old fashioned camera.

After the battle, instead of returning to the others he drags himself to his radio tower, the one that fell down off a cliff after Adam destroys the hotel. This means he didn’t head there first when he retreated, and only went afterwards once the fight was over. He was probably staying close enough to see how the fight was going, evidenced by how he knew where to go to find his radio tower.

During his mental breakdown, he’s smiling harder than ever before, and only seems to regain some semblance of control when he’s restating his current goals.

Related, Alastor’s current objective is to free himself of the deal or find a loophole around it. He’s probably planning on using Charlie’s favor for that.

Related, Alastor could’ve also wanted a favor from Charlie as general insurance in the off off chance she ends up betraying him. He seems to let his guard down around her more after the deal, and even helpfully supplies her an army without any more prompting or deal making.

Alastor’s expression when talking about making soul deals in general.

Related, Alastor’s expression when talking about how Charlie still has her soul specifically.

Used to take out last overlords for slighting or doubting him, doesn’t do that anymore. There’s a chance he stopped doing that before his seven year absence.

Related, apparently Sir Pentious also didn’t know about what Alastor did to overlords back in the day??? And they’ve fought 20+ times??? Strengthens the assumption that Alastor stopped killing overlords after he’d established himself as a top dog. Deer. And before his disappearance.

Related, while Carmilla was surprised to see him at the meeting, she and the other overlords like Zestial weren’t scared of him and accepted his presence without complaint. If he were still actively hunting down overlords I doubt, as overlords themselves, they’d have been so comfortable in his presence.

Didn’t appear to have any plans in announcing his sudden return until Vox provoked him.

Related, his broadcasts might’ve been about overlord gossip, aside from the screaming.

Shared what he can do to help during the battle with the rest of the hotel. Specifically the shield he conjures.

Related, likely volunteered himself as the one to take on Adam, since he’s the most experienced and strongest fighter in the group (Charlie’s inexperience with using her power means she’s unsuited for the task).

He speaks fondly of the group as a whole when talking to Nifty when she speaks about how much she likes them (and can we keep them, please?).

Apparently he doesn’t just enjoy watching people’s suffering but also the bonds these wayward souls form with each other.

He does, still, enjoy kicking people when they’re down. Or rather kicking people when they try to challenge him and think they have a chance.

He really knows how to get under people’s skin.

Shark snacks go nom.

Additional points from the replies:

If Alastor was sent to the hotel against his will, then whoever sent him there also did not stipulate that he couldn’t make deals with the residents, which is a huge oversight. (Peppersnap79)

Husk and Nifty appeared to stay behind and help the hotel of their own free will, Alastor did not appear to order them to stay in any way. (Peppersnap79)

My Conclusions based on more things than just what I’ve listed out: he’s probably insecure about his status in hell after the seven year absence. Whatever happened during that time is also a sore point for him, something he doesn’t want others to know about or pry into.

His reputation as the Radio Demon is very important to him. He put a lot of effort into crafting the Radio Demon’s reputation and persona as someone to be feared and not to be fucked with. This is put at risk when he nearly dies protecting the hotel.

He smiles to put himself in control, to trick both others and himself into thinking that he’s got control of the situation or himself more than he actually does. He does not like being reminded that he is not in control of his life at the moment, and his current greatest desire is freedom from his deal. The more out of control he feels, he harder he tries to smile.

He is very soft and forgiving/tolerant with the few friends he has, and has grown visibly attached to or fond of the rest of the hotel. He also appears to be protective of them, in his own weird way. Constantly defending Mimzy against whatever trouble she brings and ultimately leaving Rosie out of the actual battle. This is counterproductive to his plans, and interferes in a way he hadn’t been expecting it to. Part of his breakdown is a direct result of this unexpected interference, that his own emotions had gotten him to risk his life defending the hotel (the group).

Restating his goals to eventually escape seems to reassure him and calm him/act as a grounding mechanism when he feels like he’s losing it. He’s using the Radio Demon persona like it’s a lifeline, because the Radio Demon is who he wants to be, needs to be, if he wants to get out. The Radio Demon’s always in control, he’s the one who holds all the cards, pulls all the strings. Nothing scares him, and nothing controls him.

He’s sadistic, calculative, intelligent, spontaneous, a showman, a softie, arrogant, egotistical, insecure and paranoid. He gets attached to things more easily than he’d care to admit, and lies to himself as much as he lies to everyone else. His Radio Demon persona is just as much a part of him as it is a mask to hide what’s going on underneath. What’s there to hide if he shows them what they want to see? The audience should only care for the play, not the actors behind the scene.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #character analysis #long post #hazbin hotel meta #Alastor meta #if anyone has other things they wanna add to the list #feel free! #if I tried to add everything itd never end #also there’s a bunch of stuff here I’m borrowing from other better put together meta #I’ve reblogged the ones I like best if you wanna go check it out

[ofcowardiceandkings]

companion piece of young Link

AAHH i finally finished something :'D

i've uh had some very specific Thoughts about Zelda's childhood for a while now so its about time i put them to paper - this is actually round TWO since the original doodles are lost to ... somewhere ... i like these second editions better though so alls well that ends well

we're looking at ages around 4, 7 and 10 years old here touchin bugs in the dirt, archery practice, and playing a lyre ;w;

more detailed Thoughts under the cut 💙

iiitssss customary ranting about my BotW/TotK opinions tiiiimeeee welcome my darlingsss jfkdjfkd 💙

i had a much more solid idea about where i was going with Zelda than with Link but some of it is kinda abstract or weird lol

we know a fair amount about her upbringing in general, or can infer as much from Zelda's interactions with her father and what they and people around them wrote. she was clearly a smart and vivacious kid with a strong personality from the start, no matter how much you sort of squash that shit for the public face, repression etc. so yknow, her mother's death when she was 6, awful. her father's change in attitude especially in her teens, awful. being under public scrutiny her whole life, awful. restrictive structure of royal life, dull (i bet it bored Zelda to death at times no matter how strongly duty-oriented she is). having said that though, she got by and just by looking at her study, she clearly got stuff done to herself - you can take the kid away from the science but the science stays with the kid !!!

additionally, forgive me for mentioning ... timelines ... but in my humble onion, BotW/TotK serve as a Dragon-Break scenario which are SO far in the future from other entries that ALL timelines will inevitably converge and lead to that point, so it doesnt matter any more (i dont like extended Timeline theory, Nindooty doesnt like extended Timeline theory, the current writing team seem to want shot of it, let me be). being a history guy i also subscribe to leaning on the LEGEND aspect of 100 and 1000 year games of telephone, it makes things spicy. tradition is a strange thing, we do things we dont have much of a context for anymore, we're still living with the cultural hangovers of people living when mammoths were around and no thats not hyperbole lol its WILD. ive typed around the point enough lets get going

she was a bugs girl !!!! she still IS a bugs girl lmao but if our 16 year old girlie is gonna pounce on frogs apropos of nothing, that 4 year old girlie is gonna go catch bugs in the Royal Gardens and freak out her maids or escorts with them, good for her 💅

the other two are where my timeline thing comes in; the triforce is never mentioned by name, its just there in symbolism ?? something about the blood of the goddess ?? divine sealing powers ??? no one knows in the same vein, i like to think that its traditional for Hylian Princesses to learn archery and play a lyre or harp ... but no one remembers quite WHY ?? so Zelda does. the Priestess-Princess* role means the public is aware that Zelda had formal singing training, but its not really common knowledge outside of the Castle that the Royal Girls do THIS (no one knows why that part is important either, but it stays in the Castle). she might be a little out of practice now, but give that muscle memory enough time and she might be able to really surprise people.

*this is part of the Japanese translation, at least in Kass' final song Zelda is referred to as an term roughly meaning Priestess-Princess - which makes total sense to me

ohhh my god i talked a lot okay i just love my gorl fhjdkfjdk

actual footage of me explaining my shit and going way long

#tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #botw zelda #totk zelda #totk fanart #botw fanart #loz zelda #botw/totk #pilots doodles #botw/totk blogging #zelda blogging #rory's ramblings

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Baldur's Gate #1

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

The City | Demographics | Administration & Government | ??? - WIP

Might as well start compiling lore on the namesake of the game...

Featuring the city aesthetic (the depiction of it in-game wasn't nearly grey, damp or claustrophobic enough) and a mostly complete overview of the city and its major areas: the Lower City, Upper City, Outer City, Undercellar and Undercity.

Cultural titbits: like why you can't have animals bigger than peacocks; that you shouldn't live here if you have claustrophobia; how the Patriars clearly have it out for people with hay fever; the constant mould problem; where to go to get a glowing tattoo, a fake tan and the magical equivalent of a plastic surgeon; and why, in fairness to the Banites, the city requires very little effort to turn into a nightmarish police state under the control of an evil deity.

And if your Dark Urge is a sewer gremlin then that's a life choice they're making, not a Bhaalist thing: the Undercity isn't in the sewers.

-

The city state of Baldur's Gate is one of Faerûn's more important ports, situated geographically between the massive trade centres of Athkatla and Waterdeep. It began its life as a fusion of the early fishing hamlet of Loklee (formed around 0 DR) and the pirate and smuggler hub that formed nearby. It was a popular port with a shipyard and visitor's wharves by 204 DR. The natural harbour the man-made harbour is built on is one of the only places in hundreds of miles that's safe for ships to dock at.

Due to the lack of nearby settlements to form competition, the trade hub attained city status and import early in its existence. It briefly fell under the early kingdom of Shavinar, though this was mostly a technicality and the settlement continued to govern itself and continued to do so when the kingdom fell in 277 DR.

The area was first officially recognised in the history books as the city of of Baldur's Gate in 446 DR.

The primary spoken language of the Gate is Chondathan, however during the Spellplague the city attracted enough refugees to become one of Faerûn's most populated cities, and it's a diverse enough location that many people are at least bilingual (not counting Common): many speak Chondathan, their native/ancestral language and a third.

As a major port the city has always been something of a melting pot and encouraged a policy of tolerance - you don't want to drive away merchants and trade, after all. Likewise, in the interests of encouraging trade, the city has enforced a stance of political neutrality and refuses to be drawn into international problems.

Officially, the city prides itself on being welcoming to all ways of life, to the point where anyone and anything goes as long as they obey the laws and don't rock the boat; even the open worship of the majority evil gods is completely unremarkable - what if you want to trade with a place where those gods are a major religion, after all? While Umberlee is worshipped everywhere near the sea (under threat of tidal waves and drowning in retribution for not worshipping her), Baldur's Gate is one of the few places she has an actual temple.

A shrine to any god - regardless of what their faith does or preaches - can be established in any of the temple districts for public worship, and the law will pay it no mind.

This reputation for tolerance and neutrality means it tends to be one of the first choices for refugees and immigrants looking for a new start. The city is extremely crowded, with many people packed into tight spaces and narrow streets, and its population numbers surpassed the metropolis of Waterdeep decades ago; standing at 42,103 people in the 14th century, it has likely more than doubled since. Visitors often find it incredibly - possibly intolerably - loud and busy, while locals consider them to be backwater farmers who don't know what civilisation looks like.

While the city doesn't discriminate legally against any groups, its reputation for tolerance is somewhat overexaggerated. Peoples who are viewed as monstrous by the Realms at large, such as orcs and other goblinoids, or drow, can expect to feel unwelcome as with everywhere else. The recent wave of unwanted human refugees from Calimshan have a strained relationship with the established Baldurians, who view them as foreign and wish they'd just assimilate and start speaking Chondathan already. The city is a human settlement by culture and demographics, retaining its historical human majority, and while the demihuman minorities are part of mundane everyday life, there have been incidents such as in the early 14th century, which saw the rise of The Sure Helm: a human supremacy group who had an issue with the non-humans in their society and were known to carry out hate crimes on the likes of half-elves and half-orcs if they thought they could get away with it.

On a slightly saner note: you have the freedom of religion to worship a god who demands slaves and blood sacrifice, but it's a bad idea to advertise that... Or get caught slaving and murdering, unless you're a very high ranking priest.

--

Local bards tend to refer to the city as the Cresent moon in their lyrics and poems, after the shape of the city layout. The musical traditions of the Gate focus on "brassy-voiced tenors" and "delightfully smoky altos".

Baldurians frown on drunk, debauched and disorderly behaviour in public: there's no space for this nonsense and you're keeping everybody on the street awake.

The gate has an array of cosmetic services available in the markets of the Wide, where - as well as mundane tattooists and piercers - one can hire wizards in the market to perform cosmetic alterations with transmutation magic: glowing tattoos and other strange illusions, tans, magically affixing gems and jewellery like pieces to your body, changing hair colour, texture and style, changing your eye colour, altering your height or your weight or your sexual dimorphism, etc etc.

It's considered bad luck to harm a cat. Many of the animals moved into the area by hitching a ride on sea traffic, and as they're extremely useful for keeping vermin down both on land and at sea, Baldurians are fond of them.

If you need help carrying your shopping or finding somewhere in the city, most street corners have youths known as "lamp boys" and "lamp lasses" you can hire - so called because of the lanterns they carry at night. With the founding of the newspaper you can also find them hawking the daily papers.

The trade the city brings is the lifeline of the Sword Coast (South), and the only place one can buy foreign and luxury goods in the entire region. That said, these goods come at a significant mark up compared to the prices you'd find in Waterdeep or anywhere in Amn.

The majority of silver trade bars (bars of metal used in place of coins, for ease of transport) are made in the Gate, and the city sets the standards for this form of currency.

-

The city has always been heavily policed, and is known for being quiet and one of the safest cities in Western Faerûn; Baldurians don't expect much if any major disruption to the city's day-to-day life.

The city has its own City Watch - member of the watch being readily identified by their black helms, bearing a red stripe down one side - however the Flaming Fist Mercenary Company is the first thing that comes to mind when you mention law enforcement; you can barely go more than an hour without seeing at least one uniformed officer.

The City Watch used to be the city's police force, however by the end of the 15th century the Fist has taken on much of their role, and the Watch now functions purely as the private law keepers of the Upper City. They are permitted to live within the Upper City, and positions in the watch are now mostly hereditary.

Even when the Watch was the official city police the Fist boasted an army a thousand strong. By the start of the 15th century the Fist had taken over city patrols in a semi-official capacity. The two groups also overlap, and many of the Watch are also secretly members of the Fist. One in ten people in the gate - Watch or otherwise - are spies and informants for the mercenary company.

They may not be fully reliable as a police force however, as they are known to chose not to deal with some problems, declaring it a problem for the watch to deal with. Notably they do not police the Outer City and refuse to touch anything involving the Undercellar.

The Flaming Fist also has outposts in other realms, where it guards the foreign trade interests of the city, such as Fort Beluarian (a hamlet of 313 people) in the jungles of Chult on the Southern end of Faerûn. Being mercenaries, they are available for hire for any purpose that isn't considered flat out evil.

Of course the heavy policing and massive police presence, to anybody who cares to look closer at the city's outward appearance of security, is a giant tip-off that the city has a thriving underworld. The Thieves Guild is an ever-present force, and the religious tolerance means that there are a lot of other organised crime syndicates (ie the priests), murderers and extortion rackets running around. Such organisations keep close diplomatic ties to the Grand Dukes and the commander of the Flaming Fist.

-

The weather conditions are typically rain, sleet or fog depending on season and time of day, and the streets and buildings are almost constantly wet either from the weather or the sea. The architecture is almost entirely stone, as it's less likely to rot. The streets are often slippery, and straw or gravel from the river is sometimes thrown over the cobbles for grip. The citizens take advantage of the moisture and damp to use their cellars to cultivate edible fungi. Damp, mould and mildew are a common menace, but it did lead a wizard named Halbazzer Drin to make his fortune by inventing spells that banishes mildew (12gp per casting) and dry out an area without damaging anything (10gp), so services exist if you need to hire them. The spell is not known outside of the city; Drin refused to sell knowledge of the spell to anyone for any price or offer. Due to the damp, the streets have no banners or other hanging fabrics around.

Buildings tend to be tall and narrow, with shuttered slit windows placed high up, which will be firmly shut at night and all day in winter, to keep out the gales and invading gulls looking for places to nest. The extremely narrow streets of the Lower City are full of window planters and hanging baskets of flowers, providing the sole spot of colour amongst the grey. As the city streets are so steep and narrow, the city has a ban on allowing animals larger than a dog into the city (it's too difficult for them to navigate and likely to cause traffic issues).

Boxed in by its thick, heavily fortified city walls and with no space to expand the city has largely built upwards, and the streets are filled with stone buttresses and arches supporting the upper floors.

Due to its stony architecture and frequent overcast, the entire city is often referred to as the Grey Harbour by residents. (This is also the name of the actual city harbour)

The city is built into the chalk white cliffs around the harbour, growing in elevation until the settlement stops at the outermost walls.

By the 15th century, the city was firmly divided into the Lower and Upper Cities, the latter of which is built into the highest elevation, cut off by a wall. In the population boom that followed the mass immigration of Spellplague refugees, many people were forced to make space for themselves outside of the walls, building the Outer City. Beneath the city lies the Undercellar

Descending from the Undercellar is a labyrinth of tunnels leading down into caverns buried beneath Baldur's Gate; housing the ruins of a forgotten era, where the Temple of Bhaal stands over the ruins, surrounded by the restless spirits and walking corpses of undead residents ancient and brand new.

-

The Lower City houses most of the city, crafts and trade.

With the narrow spaces, cliffs, tall buildings and arches, the city can get rather dark at night. What public lighting is available is maintained by the citizens themselves. The wealthier parts of the Lower City, like Bloomridge, use oil and wick copper bowls, while poorer areas make do with candles in tin lanterns, usually such things are mounted on the walls and ceilings of the darkest corners; but when you want to navigate at night you'll usually be hiring lamp lads.

The Grey Harbour is one of Toril's most famous and best ports, frequented by legitimate merchant captains and pirates alike; many of the families living on the docks are the families of sailors. The area is very industrialised, sporting the shipyard, multiple cranes and railway tracks used to facilitate the moving of goods. The most notable structures are the Harbourmaster's Office, a tiny building with barred windows that deals with all trades and taxes - and the Water Queen's House at the end of the pier, which everybody with a brain makes offerings to and nobody looks too closely at whatever the Umberlant priests get up to in there, because the vast majority of people like breathing.

The Gate has little in the way of large fanciful festivals, but specific streets in the Lower City are prone to a centuries old tradition of "cobble parties", where the people living on a street pull up some chairs, benches and barrels and gather outside to share a mild drink, tell stories and chat. An ongoing cobble party can be recognised by the bright rose-red torches that are hung up along the street walls - these torches are made at Felogyr's Fireworks and can be bought almost anywhere in the city.

Bloomridge is as close the Upper City as you can get without actually gaining access, and houses the Gate's middle class. It was initially built in elevated platforms cimbing up the Upper City's walls using magic and Gondian engineering. It's various attractions - including fanciful architecture, florists, artisanal boutiques, fancy open-air kaeth houses (cafes) and dining houses (restaurants; also known as "skaethars" or "feasthalls"), and elaborate hanging gardens and floral arcades - made it attractive to those with wealth but no pedigree.

The district expanded as those who could afford to do so began purchasing and razing the original, less fancy buildings in the vicinity and building estates on the ground where they used to stand. Those who can't quite afford that instead opt to live in high class apartment buildings and flats over the local businesses. Buildings here often have rooftop gardens and balconies with pleasant vistas.

-

The Upper City is located in the oldest quarter of the city, the Lower City being built outside of the walls and stretching down to the harbour and then having the lower city walls constructed around it. The only gate connecting the two halves is the eponymous Baldur's Gate, the first of the many city gates constructed. It's also heavily guarded and the only gate by which outsiders may access the Upper City; there are numerous smaller gates, but they are exclusively used by patriars and those bearing family livery or bearing a letter of employment signed by a patriar. This district houses the Gate's oldest and most powerful families: anyone who isn't a patriar is either a servant or a watchman, who will most likely be a member of a family that has served a patriar family/the Upper City for generations. The exceptions tend to be a handful of the most successful and affluent business owners whose businesses have become popular enough with the nobility to be welcomed in. Every business and city service in this district exists to serve the upper class exclusively.

It's the most open and colourful part of the city; the shutters and doors are painted in fresh, vibrant paints. The streets are broad and well lit with ornate enchanted lamps; the terrain is mostly flat, unlike the streets of the Lower City, which can often resemble giant staircases.

Businesses that would cause unpleasant smells are banned from the area, and the Upper City maintains many gardens, windowsill planters and trellises where flowers bloom and fill the air with pleasant scents (unless you have hay fever, anyway). Wandering minstrels provide ambient music as they wander the streets - usually a singer playing a lute or harp accompanied by a flutist and perhaps a drummer who may provide a chorus.

They've also got drains, so the streets are less inclined to flood or turn to mud the way the rest of the city is.

There are no inns or alehouses here: a noble who wishes to drink will either host a party, attend a private club, or go slumming in the Lower City.

The Upper City houses the High Hall, also known as the ducal palace; the administrative building that provides a place for feasts, court hearings and government meetings. The meeting rooms are and have always been open for public use, however there is a rule that states you cannot rent a meeting room there twice within 48 hours (to stop people from monopolising the rooms). The High Hall used to be a more grim, military building but has since been renovated to appear more bright and friendly as a PR stunt following a giant riot over taxes.

The other two of the city's temples are located in the Upper City, the Lady's Hall - a Temple of Tymora - and the High House of Wonders, the temple of Gond (who is near enough the city's patron god). The building serves various purposes: a temple, workshops, factories and laboratories. When something deemed ready for the eye is released it can usually be viewed in the Hall of Wonders: a science museum across the street to the temple.

It's also where the Gate's largest marker - the Wide - is situated. It's the only large open space in the city, and the only open air market. Outside of festivals, performances and music is banned in the area. The Wide is usually packed with people forced to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and those who are hired to perform deliveries in the Wide are always tall and large, capable of seeing over the heads of the throngs and pushing their way through. Goods are carried atop tall poles that are strapped to the deliverymen's chests or backs. Prices are lowest in the Wide compared to anywhere else, and any transactions that cannot be performed within a licensed store must take place here by law.

Permits to rent space in the Wide for the day are limited, and they usually go to whoever has the money to bribe the bailiff, watchmen and other officials who have sway in over the market's administration - which is usually the merchants of the Upper City.

As well as the usual fare of goods, the Wide offers a large range of cosmetic services including the mundane body modifications and stylists that one would find on Earth, and more esoteric concepts that can only be accomplished with magic; such services and the artisans who provide them are seasonal and ever changing. The Wide is the most colourful spot in the city, and the only place that's the exception to the lack of banners and other hanging fabrics. Historically the Wide was open all day and night, but in recent times the watch has been closing the area at dusk - nobody except for the patriars may have use of the Upper City after dark.

The Wide is only closed if the area must be used for something else, such as public Highharvestide festivals... or because a patriar decided to close it off for private use, such as a ball or wedding.

Just outside of the market area is the rest of the Upper City's commercial area; stores, insurance offices, trade guildhalls, Ramazith's tower and the public entrance to the Undercellar - a flight of stone stairs leading down to a pair of heavy oak doors at the southern edge of the market. The doors are shut, but the Undercellar never closes and if you knock somebody will open them and usher you inside.

-

The Undercellar is a maze of underground passages lying beneath the city - mostly vaulted stone chambers created from the interconnected and abandoned cellars of the old Upper City, with hidden exits all over the city. Those who know where these exits are tend to guard them jealously, but may be willing to allow the Thieves' Guild access for coin or service. The Guild itself controls a fair few of these exits, and has been working on expanding the network.

It's also the playground for the criminal underworld of the Gate. The Undercellar's public image is that of a rather unprincipled festhall (a specific form of adult entertainment venue in the Realms that serves as a fusion of casino, bar, lounge, spa, brothel, playground, BDSM scene, LARPing club and so forth), which in a way, it is. Due to its dangerous reputation, it's incredibly popular, especially with those who are trying to look edgy and dangerous (particularly teenagers).

If one is openly carrying weapons, you can expect the armed guards stationed in the room to start following you closely; otherwise they'll leave you be. The guards are unlikely to care much about any disturbances, so long as they don't start disrupting everybody's business. Customers are not to venture further into the Undercellar without permission and an escort.

And behind that edgy, but mostly harmless veneer visitors play at and never see past is the real Undercellar, which is every bit as dark as its rumoured to be.

The Guild has its offices down here, and other rooms are used for varying purposes by other criminals. Want to put a hit on somebody, watch somebody get murdered in a Bhaalist red room, smuggle people or whatever crimes against humanity you feel like seeking out, this'd be the place to do it.

The Undercellar is policed by nobody except the criminals who do their work down there; whatever might take place down there, neither the Watch nor the Fists have any desire to know about them if you try and bring them to light. Want to avoid bad things? Don't get involved with the Undercellar.

The sprawling, pitch-black maze - if one knows how to navigate it - is a good way to get around the Upper City without detection. Somewhere down there is a passage that goes deeper, leading further into the earth and into the Undercity.

The Undercity is, clue in the name, the dead remains of a city buried beneath the living Baldur's Gate (specifically the original city that became the Upper City). At its heart is the Temple of Bhaal, and the city is inhabited by Bhaalists, alive and dead; the original, now undead, inhabitants of the undercity and any victims of the temple that have joined them.

-

The Outer City, Cliffgate and Blackgate are not technically parts of the city, being constructed outside of them.

The soil surrounding the city is little use for agriculture, but it is sufficient for grazing, so most farmers are the likes of shepherds and cattle farmers. As livestock and large animals are not permitted inside the city, cattle markets, stables and such businesses will be found there. Many of the less pleasant businesses, such as butchers and tanners, have relocated here to spare the rest of the city the smell and mess.

Much of the structures are semi-permanent in nature, and the areas are not subject to official oversight or in possession of any particular infrastructure. They aren't policed by the Fist or the watch, the area is near enough lawless, and crime is frequent. "Security" tends to be overseen by the Guild, and while the government doesn't tax outside the walls, residents still have to pay their dues to the local thieves and thugs.

The Outer City is as crowded as the Lower City, but less sanitary or orderly: these places are dirty, loud, smell a lot and tend to be quite dangerous. Many of the residents are farmers, criminals and foreigners and immigrants of varying generation who can't afford or find a place in the city proper.

The Blackgate is the historical slum area, and grew around the inland-facing Black Gate to the North West, growing around the Trade Way connecting The Gate to Waterdeep.

The Tumbledown district, located in Cliffgate outside the city gate of the same name, is the middle child of the expansions, leading down the cliffs. The land was owned by the Szarr family generations ago, before they were all (supposedly) slaughtered by a rival family in the night. Tumbledown is an extremely foggy area, full of graveyards and tombs, and rumours abound that the ghosts of the dead Szarrs haunt the streets there and steal people away. People do disappear there, but most people are sceptical that it's due to ghosts.

The Outer City is a newer, larger slum that grew around the Basilisk Gate and spread along the Coast Way - the road between the Gate and Athkatla - as the city population exploded at the end of the 14th century.

Immigrant communities have taken the opportunity to build their own settlements in the Outer City, styled in their own architectural styles, such as Little Calimshan; a tenement on Wyrm's Crossing is exclusively occupied by halflings; Whitkeep houses a gnomish community who does most of the city's tinsmithing; half-orcs lodge in Stoneyes; a shield dwarven community is located in Shieldgate.

These communities are considered outsiders by most Baldurians, and generally there's no love lost between those inside the walls and outside.

#...the Durge player in me is looking at all the various ways one could go undercover as an assassin I must admit #Karlach is actually a good example of how surnames work in the Realms: she was born/raised in Cliffgate so it's her “surname” #long post

[perfectlyineffable]

The Matchbox Trick

When I watched through season 2 for the first time, I made notes as I went along, because I'd seen that Neil wanted this to be a mystery story, and he'd wanted the episodes to be released weekly to encourage discussion and theorising. Most of my notes were jumbled and half-formed thoughts that I scribbled down before eagerly hitting 'next episode', so there's very little considered writing in there. But one of my theories I was certain on from the beginning was that of the matchbox trick.

This is a long post, so the explanation is below the cut:

The Trick

For those that don't know, the matchbox trick is a very simple example of sleight of hand magic. You have an empty matchbox, the magician puts something into it (say, a coin), says the magic words, and the thing vanishes from the box! Then they say the magic words again, and it reappears! Magic.

If you don't know how it's done: very simply, the inner box of the matchbox is divided in half, and when saying the magic words, the sleight of hand is to spin the box round, so that the other half is shown instead, whether that's empty (it disappeared!) or full (it reappeared!).

The Hints

I first thought that this season might be a matchbox trick when Gabriel's matchbox first appeared on screen - after all, it's clearly important, there's a mystery to be solved, Muriel seems shocked by it, and we know Aziraphale's a magician. I thought it'd be a trick that plays out on screen, and he'd be the one to figure it out.

I was even more convinced of it when Michael examined the box for the first time. Because she doesn't just open it at one end to see if it's empty - she opens it at both, one after the other. And yet she doesn't take the whole inner box out (that would reveal the divider and give the trick away). So I was certain this was Neil/Douglas/the team giving us a clear but subtle set-up that there would be a matchbox trick this season.

Then there are other references/hints dotted throughout the season, too:

In episode 3, the Resurrectionist pub sign has two sides to it - Aziraphale only notices one on the way in, but we're shown both, and then he notices the other one on the way out. We're being shown how the trick is done, even if the characters in the show don't understand it yet.

In episode 4, Aziraphale performs another, slightly different sleight of hand magic trick by replacing the photograph in the envelope with a pamphlet instead. This is a slightly weaker link to the specific trick of the matchbox, and arguably the gun trick has just as much sleight of hand (mouth?) in it, but since it's close-up magic I thought it was relevant, like Neil saying to us: 'close-up sleight of hand tricks are important here'.

And of course, empty matchbox, empty cardboard box, empty archangel mind. There seemed to be a thread between the three, so I thought the 'important thing to prevent something terrible happening' would be in the cardboard box, and Gabriel's memories would still be in his head, you just needed to metaphorically turn him around to get them to reappear.

So I spent most of the season convinced that Gabriel's 'empty' cardboard box with a 'this way up' sign on it held an extra-dimensional space that could only be accessed by opening it upside down (the arrows pointing downwards, the direction he'd metaphorically gone from Heaven).

And I was... half right. You did in fact need to flip the box over to figure out the trick. But you didn't need to open it, the answer was just scrawled on the bottom. Huh. Okay, fair enough. Close enough.

The Theory

I was willing to accept that half-right was close enough on the cardboard box front. Maybe the attention to the matchbox was just telling us to flip it over, not open it upside down. Maybe Michael opening both sides of the matchbox didn't really mean what I thought it meant at all, it was just a coincidence or a red herring or the only thing important about it was its existence, not it being opened. Maybe the way the show highlighted the text on the matchbox was meant to hint that you should look for writing on the cardboard box, and that was all.

Then I read this meta by @ariaste. Now, I'm not sure I fully believe in it (I've been burned before by complex fan theories), but it's certainly thorough and convincing. And if it is correct... then maybe the matchbox trick was intended to be there, as yet another setup with no payoff. Maybe it's another clue that things aren't all what they seem.

Maybe the whole of Season 2 is a vanishing act - on Gabriel, on memory, on Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship - and the answer, all that's been lost, will be returned to us in Season 3. When the quote on the matchbox will make sense, when all of the dropped threads and setups-with-no-payoffs will be cascaded into action, when the box will be opened rather than only flipped over without anything being revealed.

Maybe this is nonsense rambling. Maybe I'm seeing details that aren't there. But either way, I trust Neil. Season 3 will be worth it, I believe that much. Everything will be okay in the end.

#season 2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #season 2 #meta #freyja talks #the matchbox trick #fan theory #neil gaiman #magic tricks

[ranticore]

Chapter 3 - To Be Phocid [Qedivar's research]

It's that time again. Ishmael is a teenage boy, fair warning.

I'm posting this on mobile so I cba linking the previous chapters but go into the siren tag to find them.

x

Following these events, and at Maris’s insistence, Ishmael began to keep a journal. To the delight of this author, his writing was deep, introspective, and highly detailed. From now on, I no longer had to rely on pieced together scraps and reports, but from a primary source. As such, the way these events are related will shift a little, but that is only for events concerning Ishmael.

Cherta, unfortunately, did not keep a journal at this time and remains frustratingly opaque, given Ishmael’s somewhat biased recounting of their activities. Although one must concede to the difficulties of keeping a journal underwater, before the age of sub-aquatic writing systems, and with eighteen other overambitious adolescents in relatively close proximity.

Ishmael’s journal was recorded on a computerified device and was not written by hand, though his deep dream education had serviced to educate him in handwriting skills. This was tested when he was younger, as part of an evaluation to determine the extent of his dexterity. Although the notion of a form of writing which is stored in a purely hypothetical space is very odd, especially in its permanency, it has enabled us to access his thoughts at this day and age, whereas traditional aquatic knot-writing would have long since rotted away.

He wrote in the language of the Predecessors, which I believe to be the root of all air-speaking language families. The translation of these texts is what has taxed me more than any other part of this process, aside from the grievous bodily harm, and it has taken a fantastic span of time to achieve this translation. I cannot credit my sources for fear of implicating them but you can be assured that the finest minds of the Spire collaborated on this project. This Predecessor tongue is what is spoken in all of the videos, enabling me to learn it to a conversational level, though I am hardly fluent.

Some of the journal is rendered untranslatable due to it referring to objects or concepts which were considered common knowledge at the time, requiring no additional definition. These concepts or objects will be clearly marked. However, I believe much of the text to be familiar to many people, telling of the frustration and longing common and recognisable today. That said, I believe it is also important not to take for granted the relatability.

Ishmael is not always familiar to us and existed in a time we would find nigh incomprehensible. Do not take this as reason to doubt his interiority or personhood, and do not fall into the trap of believing that you would have done better in his place, that you would have seen clearly what he obviously did not (and had good reason not to). They may have been phocids, or the predecessors of phocids, but they were new. If you were the first of your kind, could you do better?

I will now present the text in chronological order, starting from the eve of his sixteenth birthday:

-

Entry 1 – I hate seeing that baby siphonid. It’s still moving. It drags itself around on the leg the researchers didn’t take. Now I’m just going to remember this forever, since I wrote it down. Great. I hate that fucking noise. Why can’t they just get it to shut up?

Thank [deity]. They took it away.

Update – it didn’t even taste good.

-

Entry 2 - Maris told me to talk more about my feelings. What does she know? Nobody understands me anyway. I don’t think they can feel all that on their face like me. The sipho noise kept touching me. The researchers are always talking about hydrofoils and antennae but I bet they don’t know what I do - how the siphos talk to each other. I told Callum and he didn’t know what I meant, even though he has a beard.

Talked to Lee again about sex since Dan said he wouldn’t tell me himself. I don’t think Lee told the truth about a lot of that stuff. The other kids sometimes joke around a bit too much, but it is kinda funny I guess.

Update - Dan shouted at me for asking, but now I have proof Lee was wrong.

-

Entry 3 – The phocids click at each other underwater with their tongues.

Dan got so angry after I pulled my face hair out. He made the interns [untranslatable] search my room for the hairs and they actually found them. They didn’t even do anything with it, just put it in a bag and sealed it away. Looks like nobody wants it at all. Dan says Atom spent 120 billion nua making me, so I think one face hair is worth a few million. If I started selling them to the people outside the lab, I could buy my own stake of land on Siren just like them. I wouldn’t let Lee in. My fingers are probably worth a couple billion each.

Should I

-

Entry 4 – Emer (the intern) looked at me like I did something wrong when she changed my pillowcases.

Spilled bile EVERYWHERE when they were testing me. I keep thinking about somehow saving it and trying to sell it. I’m supposed to be a digestive model for Siren food, so my insides are probably worth a lot. I should ask Dan when he calms down.

Callum came around to talk to Dan again. He’s getting really tall, he’s taller than me now even when I stand up straight. He’s so skinny, like the baby siphonids (I can snap one in half with just my teeth now). When Callum was there, he didn’t want to look at me, but I get it. They didn’t even cook the siphonid this time, it was raw and with the shell on. His leg is the same width as one of them.

Emer won’t stop changing my pillowcases. Is there a way to prevent them from smelling like that?? Callum hasn’t been around so I can’t ask. Maris thinks it’s just because people my age start getting sweaty but Dan specifically told me he made me not have sweat glands anywhere but my hands. Then he said the phocids do have sweat glands. I still don’t get the point of sweating if you’re already a stupid wet rat who lives in the

-

Entry 5 – I’m seventeen now. Since I’m an adult, I decided to stop being reticent around the phocids. I want to know if they found a comfortable way to walk without the skin coming off their tails. So I went to talk to them today for the first time. There is a window where you can do it, they let it open ever since the climate control got busted again last month.

Cherta is really weird. I knew they couldn’t stay in the pool for very long because they might have a seizure but apparently it can happen any time, not just underwater. They have a button implant that makes their muscles relax. Anyway, their tails have thicker skin than mine so that was useless. But it is still worthwhile, I think, to meet with the phocids. They remind me why I am a human, and they are not. I kind of pity them because all they're ever going to be is a bunch of test subjects in a tiny swimming pool.

Cherta told me that one of the phocids died a year ago. I don’t remember Dan ever talking about it to me, but they said it was a big deal. Apparently they got pressure sickness when climate control broke the first time. I think Cherta broke it the second time, they sounded too proud to mention it. I don’t get it. Anyway, breaking stuff in the lab is against the rules and I think I’m going to tell Dan about that.

-

Entry 6 – I made the right choice. Cherta got so angry when they found out I told on them that they had another seizure. The other phocids had to pull them out of the pool. Dan thought I did the right thing but I don’t think he liked me going to tell Cherta about it afterwards, told me no one likes a snitch. Well, then, what am I supposed to do? Just let it happen? I hope Cherta chokes on that gross pool water next time.

Dan suggested I go do something other than visit the phocids and I agree, they’re clearly not worth my time. I went to see Callum instead but he wasn’t in. He has a games console, I saw him show it off to Lee the other day. I wonder if he’d let me try it.

[End of Journal Entries]

-

It paints an interesting picture. As Ishmael mentions, Cherta suffered permanent neurological issues as a result of their birth mishaps. This was a point of contention within the lab, beyond Ishmael’s knowledge; the finance manager of the settlement questioned the wisdom of keeping a test subject in an aquatic locomotion study group who could not spend much time underwater. Every time, however, Dan Loris would respond that Cherta now provided essential information about phocid neurology and drowning mechanisms.

The phocid whose death Ishmael mentions was number seventeen, Ambla. It is highly likely that number seventeen’s death was accidental, but the circumstances were not caused by a failure of the lab’s climate system.

I have found the experimental notes from that day; Ambla was brought to an isolated chamber which was controlled by the climate system, with its own test pool, and the quality of the atmosphere was changed to match that of the Precursor home planet. The force of gravity was thus increased. What the Humans did not expect was Ambla’s sudden inability to swim to the surface. They inhaled water, which settled in their lungs and caused them to drown even after they had been pulled out of the pool.

Dan expressed grief in his notes, and surprise. He did not understand why such a thing would occur and blamed the climate system for somehow altering the test beyond his parameters. This is likely what led to Cherta’s misconception that the climate system had killed one of their friends, and their subsequent sabotage of the climate system every few months after that.

But any phocid or selkie reading this will intimately recognise the problem, and I believe the mystery of Ambla’s death may now be solved. The water taken to fill the pool was likely Tel!am’s Blood, a phenomenon all sea-faring people will know about. The Precursors, it seemed, were unfamiliar with it, and had pumped water in to the pool which nobody could swim in. But with the increased gravity, even the fittest phocid would struggle to rise in shallow water.

Regardless, there exists a substantial gap between that last journal entry and the next. Almost a year, in fact, when Ishmael did not write at all, and neither did he participate in Maris’s therapy sessions. I do, however, have a copy of Callum’s journal with me which provides at least half of the narrative, incomplete as it is.

#setting: siren

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

New photos from an amazing new Vanity Fair article with much more in depth information about the upcoming Andrew Haigh movie, All of Us Strangers, starring Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal!

Sex and strangers have long been intrinsic elements of Haigh’s filmmaking. In Weekend, a one-night stand provides the impetus for a spellbinding saga of longing and intimacy; HBO’s Looking charts the growth and regression of its single gay San Franciscans through raw, honest portraits of their sexual experiences. Yet in All of Us Strangers, it all hits differently—becoming more emotional, more revealing, definitely more mysterious. “I’ve been more objective in how I’ve shot sex scenes in the past,” Haigh says. “Here, I really wanted to feel the subjective nature of having sex and what it feels like—the nervousness and the excitement and the physical sensation of being touched by someone else, and what that does to you.”

The two performers at the romance’s center bring that intention to beautiful life. Scott inhabits a character just coming to terms with his buried shame, while Mescal takes on a more enigmatic figure who unveils himself carefully. The actors commit wholly—sweetly, deeply, explicitly—to the intensity of the physical connection that develops between Adam and Harry. “There was chemistry between the two of them literally the second I saw them together,” Haigh says. “Both of them were pretty fearless. There was no sense of them being afraid of approaching those scenes. They knew how important they were.” That importance particularly relates to Adam’s greater journey in All of Us Strangers. It’s no coincidence the sex feels unique, even special, with Harry. That bond proves inextricably linked with his posthumous family reunion...

There's so much more that I want to quote, but this is the most important part to me.

Scott’s skill as a performer serves as the real glue. His work is openhearted, incredibly poignant, and dramatically rigorous. And somehow it’s his first true lead role in a film, following years of lauded stage work and that fan-favorite turn as 'Hot' Priest in Fleabag. “This whole film sits squarely on his shoulders, and he clearly had it in him, but it’s beautiful to see it,” says Broadbent. Haigh adds that Scott “hasn’t had this kind of central role—and I always felt like he should have that central role.”

#andrew scott #andrew haigh #all of us strangers #paul mescal #claire foy #jamie bell #i can't fucking wait #vanity fair #he's had lead roles before #just not in a while #and they were small films mostly

[blazehedgehog]

I Love To Shoot At Trouble

During the Steam Christmas Sale I ended up buying Need for Speed: Most Wanted 2012 because it was like $6 or $7 and I'm in the mood for a new racing game to chew up. EA already gave the game away for free in like 2015, but that meant installing "The EA App". I figured having it on Steam would be more convenient.

You'd think so.

It's not! As part of the first time launch, it installs "The EA App" anyway, which also means it found and uninstalled whatever version of Origin I still had (I wasn't aware I'd ever reinstalled Origin since my HDD crash). As part of this process, it also asked me for my EA password, I misread Firefox's stored password incorrectly, and went through the trouble of resetting my EA account with a new password before linking it to Steam. To my surprise, EA's been sitting on my seven year old cloud save from the few minutes I played of this on Origin in 2017, and asks if I want to import it. Sure, I guess.

So that's ten minutes down the drain before I can even boot up the game. Okay, fine, the game finally launches. Gotta wait while it boots up The EA App each time before it boots into the game, gotta wait for the title screen logo animation, gotta wait for a 10-15 second load screen because even though this game came out in 2012 it's gotta ping some always-online "Autolog" leaderboard whatever. Once it connects, it has to do a slow cinematic pan across your car, telling you what your online rivals have done since the last time you connected, and what kind of equipment you have on your car.

All told, every time you boot up Most Wanted 2012, you're looking at a 30-45 second wait before the game actually hands over control and lets you start driving.

Pull the accelerator and instantly Most Wanted SCREAMS at me:

Fair enough. I'm using a Dualshock 4, and the Playstation 4 did not release until over a full year after this game. Click to the menu it's asking of me and see that the control binding menu is awful -- it's one of those super oldschool ones, like binding keys one by one in Doom 2. I have no idea what these buttons are supposed to be in terms of Xbox equivalents, and I realize that Steam has this thing called "Steam Input" that's supposed to be handling all of this anyway. Steam Input generally makes my Dualshock 4 look like an Xbox controller to most games.

I exit out of Most Wanted, force Steam Input to "on" (I was messing with its settings recently, so I thought maybe it was disabled), and relaunch the game again. Wait for the EA App to boot up, gotta wait through the title screen logos, gotta wait 10-15 seconds on a loading screen, gotta wait another 5-10 on the cinematic pan across my car. I have now spent a minute and a half total waiting for this game to boot while I troubleshoot this.

Pull the accelerator. Instead of it complaining about my controller, straight up nothing happens. That's weird. The Start button works, the analog stick seems to work in the pause menu, but the triggers do not. The face buttons also do nothing. Upon checking the settings, that's because Most Wanted has settled on keyboard mode, even though it's clearly accepting some controller input. After poking at it, it does not seem like there's any way to get it to see my controller.

This makes Most Wanted a special game, because a lot of games I play will happily accept that Steam Input is telling it I have an Xbox controller connected even when I absolutely do not. But this is the rare 1% that seems to be incompatible. It's time to bring in the big guns.

Mayflash makes a terrific little passthrough device called the Magic NS, and the general purpose of this device is that it lets you use any controller on any other platform. An Xbox controller on a Playstation? No sweat. A Playstation controller on the Switch? It'll handle it. If you upgrade to the Magic NS2, you even get full gyro support. Every NS device also doubles as a Bluetooth dongle, so you can stay wireless if that's your thing. I love it so much I bought two, because generally they're only about $20.

A Magic NS2 for my Switch... and Magic NS1 for my PC. Strictly for scenarios like this, where a game expects an Xbox controller and Steam Input fails its camouflage.

Plug the NS1 in, connect my Dualshock 4, and once again boot up Most Wanted and wait the 45 seconds to get through the EA app, logos, loading, and the cinematic pan across my car. More than two full minutes now looking at this junk, and that's not counting the time spent outside of the game troubleshooting this in menus or digging out dongles or whatever.

Pull the accelerator... and my car starts to drive! I can steer! It works! Of course it works. The Magic NS never lets me down. I pull up to the first race event...

Press J and K to start the event.

Those are, uh. Those are keyboard keys. I'm using a controller. The controller is fully functional. You don't need to tell me this in keyboard controls. This isn't going to be one of those games, is it? The kind that still tells you everything in the keyboard shortcuts no matter what?

I drop into the menus again and see Most Wanted is still stuck on Keyboard mode and won't let me switch to anything else, even though I'm clearly using a fully functional controller now. This can't be right. But then I remember: Steam Input is still turned on, and when I forced Steam Input to be on, Most Wanted got stuck in this keyboard mode.

Exit out of the game, tell Steam to turn off Steam Input for this specific game only, and relaunch. Wait through all that crap again. We're up to three minutes just waiting for the game to start, and probably closing in on 20 minutes since I first decided I wanted to try Most Wanted.

Pull the accelerator, it works, drive up to the first event, and...

Pull LT and RT to start the event.

FINALLY. HOLY SHIT.

On the plus side: this game controls a lot better than I remember. It's a decent middleground between Criterion's heavier-feeling Hot Pursuit (2011) and the snappier Burnout Paradise. Though I could do with a lot less full screen flashing or the fact that Autolog alerts hide the minimap for some reason.

Not pictured, but the "always online" nature can also be frustrating if you pause, unpause, and find you have to quickly re-pause again a second time. That second pause will actually incur a loading spinner because it hasn't finished syncing with the server from the first pause, apparently. This game is going on 12 years old.

Anyway. This was a nightmare.

HOT BONUS

"The EA App" now starts up with Windows and is nagging me to enter the login credentials I already entered last night. I have to go through extra steps to get it to leave me alone and not do this

THE RIDE NEVER ENDS

#need for speed #most wanted #criterion games #ea #electronic arts #origin #the ea app #steam #valve #xbox #steam input #troubleshooting #mayflash #Youtube

[ansbobcar]

EP 8. Business as usual

WORD COUNT. 1371

Link to overview

_ _ _ _ _

“Welcome back, Ms. Ontarin!”

She waved at some of the employees with gratitude, she was allowed to continue working within the Bureau until their blood supply recovered. “It doesn’t help that we usually rely on you to make them,” her nurse muttered under her breath with apologetic look. “It’s bad management on our part.”

It can’t be helped. To put to waste the efforts of all the personnel, as she was thrown back and forth between the shores in her dreams, was not worth it. She can’t overthink it. ‘Quite the idiotic curse compared to my mother.’

008 handed over the general outline of what had been covered by Orter which was quite a fair amount. Including a stack of notes about the content covered and outcomes. Comprehensively succinct. The schedule also significantly changed in preparation for the next few months. “Actually, what is Orter doing right now, 008?”

“There was a missing report about this one potion business a few days ago.” Flipping through the notes, written boldly was ‘DO NOT FOLLOW ME TO INVESTIGATE.’ 

“That’s why he asked if he wanted me to lead him out,” she mumbled remembering their footsteps outside. He was doing it alone by the lack of any staff loitering at the typical rendezvous. “There’s no point in keeping them from performing their duties elsewhere,” readjusting his glasses before he looked back at her. Her robe’s colour was still something he couldn’t get used to, as its bright yet heavy hue encompassed her. She smiles  “Do well then, Orter Madl.”

“I will.”

It’ll run smoothly.

_ _ _

It’s unassuming. A shop located on the outskirts of a town outside the capital, as he entered with the bell chiming like any other shop. Although the owner’s face seems delighted by his visit it shifts with a simple paper. A search permit. There’s no fight as a result and the two go behind the shop to check on the working conditions... that is, if there wasn’t a sudden break into a sprint from the man.

“The audacity to do so is incredible,” holding onto his wand with a calm expression. Not even a double-liner magic user would have the guts to mess with him as he tugged onto his shoe. Tumbling down the spiralling stairs, the owner’s feet were bound with compressed sand to prevent the inner workings of his business from being covered up. Unlocking the door revealed another race, dwarves, haggard yet snappy in their craftsmanship. “Didn’t we illegalise dwarf slavery?” Eyes scrutinised the owner who scrambled down to his knees in tears was the seemingly clear-skinned fellow with slightly wrinkled eyes. “Please! I beg of you! It was against my will!” Pathetically claiming their innocence in such a situation. He wanted to scoff. The rule wasn’t even new.

“Even if it was against your will, housing and enabling such a practice violates both their rights and our laws.” But more importantly: “Who convinced you to do this? Clearly you aren’t capable of this feat.” In spite of his burning questions, it was more important to shut down the business and escort both suspects and the dwarves. Utilising teleportation magic at a distance with multiple targets isn’t his specialty but he was still rather adept at it, slight hysteria erupted from the overworked mass at their sudden change in position.

After handing over part of the matter to the Magical Creatures Administration, they began to conduct questionings on everyone involved. To summarise: only the owner knew of their existence, the staff who worked and maintained the shop had never managed to even step foot beyond the initial storage room, and the dwarves had been held there for the length of the business forging weaponry. The causation was a different answer. Even amidst possible interrogation methods and torture, he, now identified as Osfor Slagturn, was reluctant in providing any. “Surely you can at least tell us who it is.”

Slagturn muttered in a clammy manner, “then he’ll kill me if I say it…”

“If you ‘say’,” he repeated to himself. “How about this, let’s play hangman,” taking out a notepad and a feather. “If I fail to name the culprit, you’ll receive the hefty fine instead of the lifetime prison sentence.” That’s not how these deals work?! “I didn’t make this law for your information.” With no other choice, Slagturn folded and picked up the writing instrument.

‘_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _    _ _ _ _’

Two words. Vowels came first then. There was no ‘a’, an ‘i’, two ‘e’s, and two ‘o’s.

‘I _ _ o _ e _ _    _ e _ o’

No ‘u’ was present. The rest were consonants. There was an ‘n’ in this wasn’t there? Deducing the culprit or rather mastermind behind the whole ordeal with more ease.

“It’s Innocent Zero, isn’t it?”

His eyes seemed to only confirm them.

“Thank you for your cooperation, we’ll be holding you in the mean time,” leaving the room.

Why is Innocent Zero investing in weapons? Are they planning on a war soon? This is of great concern. An audience will be needed with the director and Wahlberg soon.

When he walked back, he was greeted by 008 again. No sign of the blonde vice-head. “Where’s Rinka?”

“Mr. Gehenna asked for her when the break started.”

_ _ _

The tea was still warm as the man before her uttered those words. His expression and posture were inviting, if she were still 17 they would’ve betrayed her expectations in a heartbeat. A constant in the mundanely fickle life she had. If she were indebt to him, she still wouldn’t do such a thing though as it was right now.

“You’re being irrational.”

“The same applies to you, Rinka,” he countered. “That’s the third time you’ve… nearly killed yourself,” unable to talk about it freely even with a light tone.

“What does that have to do with me being in love with Orter?” Clearly fed up of his tactics. After all, why stick to it if it isn’t working? She has no reason to agree to his whims, of all people, even if it’s a ruse they made up. The thought of inconveniencing the Desert Cane more than she already had, made her snuff out any doubts and reasons to state it. None of the other Divine Visionaries were good candidates for keeping such a secret without divine intervention after all.

“Whether you both made a deal, which I hope you haven’t, or your relationship is truly genuine,” he began, sullying his gloves hand with dripping honey. “You will be in a precarious position. You know what Orter is like. I doubt he’d favour his heart over his duty when the time comes.” Her eyes averted away from his implicating gaze and back towards her teacup.

“Or maybe they’re the same?”

What a way to ruin her appetite.

“What do you have against Orter to begin with?” She watched as he picked up some slice of bread with his messed glove. “It’s not like he needs my position to get more power like the others who tried.” The two were already on odd terms when they met. She presumed it might have to do with the fact he wasted 2 years in his new programme as a promising candidate to enter the Magic Police and became a Divine Visionary instead. But Kaldo doesn’t care about wasting resources like the others. So it was perplexing. 

‘She didn’t remember it. That’s good,’ unable to disassociate her from being drenched in scalding tea amidst laughs. Her hands curled into fists, restraining themselves from a violent outlash with her magic. Whether it came from estranged faces or unknowns, she kept quiet and with sincerity, did a tight lipped smile.

“You can’t…”

The door opened unexpectedly, revealing Orter. “It took longer than expected to find your office,” refraining from scratching his head. The oldest closed his mouth without another word uttered. “Were you guys still talking?”

“You killed the pace.”

“Apologies for disrupting you then, feel free to schedule another time,” he added, dragging out the blonde who seemed just as confused as he was. She waved before shutting the door though. 

_ _ _ _ _

Uhm. What do you think Kaldo was actually tryna say? You'll never get this answered for a while.

#mashle oc #orter madl #mashle fanfic idea #mashle x oc #orter madl x oc #divine visionaries #mashle #orter mádl #mashle x reader

[henrysglock]

It does actually upset me a fair amount that Henry's story is never about himself in fanon or canon.

TFS? Picked apart for byler parallels and willel content. Picked apart for Jopper content. Does Henry's story even register as anything more than background noise? Does it matter? Does he matter in his own story? Or is he only important as a support for someone else?

The VR game? Picked apart for byIer content, eImax content, wilIel content. Nothing to be said for Henry's childhood and time in the lab, which takes up more than a third of the game. Once again, Henry's ignored and sidelined.

For the majority of his life his story itself isn't even about him. Canon childhood? Revolves around Virginia and Brenner (and Patty, in TFS). Then he's just another dead kid in the obits. Even Patty seems to have forgotten him for whatever reason after he's taken by Brenner.

Canon teen-adulthood? Revolves around Brenner and El. He's a number, a caregiver for children who only exist because of him, but who will never be aware of that fact and the implications it carries, and a pet to Brenner...and maybe a coworker at best.

He doesn't exist as something actually lovable until El starts caring about him. His trauma as One doesn't exist until he gets his few minutes of "being quietly upset about 20+ years of mistreatment" time while he's surrounded by the corpses of children he was fond of, children that he more than likely didn't kill because they don't actually exist, given that they fucking move and blink out of existence altogether. (Even that is deemed too long by the fandom, who would really rather see cute, useless scenes of wiIlel. or byIer. or. or. or. Less than 15 minutes of words for 20+ years of abuse, and it's "too much". He's "joker-fied" for being upset at all. Really I guess he should just be grateful he got to tell his story before El blasted him into the ether (over something we can't actually prove he did), whether that ether be the darkness of NINA or the fires of Dimension X. Should he take a bow and leave gracefully? Would you like him to get down on his knees and thank the security cameras before he goes? Should he have pinned himself to the wall? Should the lamb get on the alter and tie its own legs for the sacrifice?)

He ceases to exist entirely outside of Brenner as soon as El's memories of him are wiped.

Henry only exists again in relation to crimes he's blamed for but there's only flimsy circumstantial proof linking him to.

Henry's blamed for the murder of children that often times blink out of reality altogether, children we only seem to see in a fucked up Matrix-like computer simulation. Children he sounded fond of, and who were fond of him in return, even if they didn't really know him.

Henry's accused of manipulating El, but there's no solid proof that he did so. In fact, there's more proof saying he didn't do that, and was genuinely trying to get her to leave out the tunnel...but we don't acknowledge that. We also don't acknowledge that he stuck El in a closet to keep her safe while he went out alone into only God knows what situation.

Henry's blamed for Will's disappearance, despite the fact that Vecna (whoever he is) makes no mention of Will at all in canon, and when he does make mention in the VR...Will's already in the UD/void Castle Byers. There's no actual evidence linking him to Will's kidnapping in the shed. Vecna notices Will, but as of yet we have no solid evidence that he stole him.

And if he were to come back for some kind of "redemption arc", which I hesitate to even call a redemption arc, since we have no solid proof that he's got a body count over [checks notes] two: Virginia, whose circumstances of death are muddled with TFS, and that one guard in 4.07. (Yes, only the one guard. He threw the other four. There's no confirmation that they were anything more than knocked out, especially in a scene where they make a point to clearly show who Henry killed.) We can't even say he killed Alice, since we haven't seen the circumstances of her death...in fact, it's more likely he didn't kill her, based on what we know about his powers. Henry has a reliable body count of two, and both of them arguably had it coming. One had just sold him and his best friend out to Brenner, two children as lambs to the slaughter on the alter of "give Virginia Creel her normal life back :((((", and the other was an imminent threat to his and El's safety.

So I hesitate to call his possible return a redemption arc, because what does Henry have to be redeemed for? And if he were to have this "redemption" arc, he'd likely be put on the chopping block for people who haven't given him a second glance since 1959 (El aside).

I mean...how fucking unfair.

An unloved child sold to a freak doctor, imprisoned and abused for 20 years, forgotten entirely for the next 7 years, and scapegoated to the nth fucking degree as soon as he's brought back into the picture not of his own volition but because Brenner and El and Nancy dug him up and decided he was definitely and unquestionably to-blame for everything.

And were he to be absolved of any association...he'd likely immediately be expected to sacrifice himself for the "greater good".

Like...this guy had better get a happy ending or so help me god.

#rant #long-ish post #henryposting

[luimagines]

Four's spouse being absolutely terrifying when mad is very accurate. Not much really pisses them off except when it involves their loved ones are hurt, food waste and their current catch being chased away like the Gohma scaring off the boar. Otherwise Reader is mostly nonchalant.

Four does ask his lover to throw him on a few occasions, mainly when adventuring as the married couple are quite the tag team. Both fight completely in sync even when the Colors are thrown into the mix. So Wind and Wild asking for Reader to throw them wouldn't be much of a problem if they have a destination in mind.

Warriors: You're seriously going to oblige them?!

Reader: If they know where they want to go and have a way to land. My husband does this whenever we explore a dungeon together.

Wind: *takes out the Korok Leaf* Toss me as high as you can and I'll land on the roof!

Reader: *tosses the teen 60 ft into the air*

Twilight: WHAT THE????!

Wild: That is AWESOME!

(Wind does land safely and got scolded by Twilight. Wild also gets tossed too while Sky contemplates on asking.)

Reader's strength is the most insane thing about them. Combat chefs don't fight with their bare hands as its a chef's most important tool. You can't cook without them. They are a close range fighter so Reader uses their legs to fight.

One technique that Four's love tends to use is called Sky Walk. This skill allows Reader to literally walk on AIR and can only be taught by a master. Our heroes find this out when Wild spots something odd on his Sheikah Slate.

Wild: WHAT THE FUCK?! FOUR, HOW IS YOUR SPOUSE WALKING ON AIR?!!

Hyrule: I'm sorry what?

Time: *uses the Lens of Truth and sees Reader is actually walking to the house on nothing* Smithy, did you marry a god???

Four: Reader isn't a god. They're just using Sky Walk, a super secret technique. Like this! *begins walking on air*

Warriors: DEAR HYLIA!

Four hasn't really mastered the technique as it takes a few years so he can only walk at least 30 ft before he has to touch the ground. The looks on his comrades' faces are hilarious though. Smithy literally hid such a technique that would make any pitfall traps worthless.

Now Dink is most likely the type to use the heroes' loved ones to his advantage. When the Chain are traveling through Warrior's Hyrule Fields they did not expect a Dodongo to come crashing down with a footprint deep in its chest. All of them knew only one person could do this and rush to where it came from.

Surrounded by Taluses, Dodongos, Darknuts and Hinoxes was an absolutely livid Reader. One of the Links were quick to spot the abnormal nervous Darknut in the group, Dink who's currently regretting his decision. Especially when Reader's lower half of their legs ignite a fiery orange coat. They flames didn't seem to harm them but clearly burn the ground.

A sign that has Four split and push his comrades away a good distance from the fight cause he knew what is about to happen.

Green: The shadow really done it now!

Legend: What's going on?!

Vio: Diable Jambe, one of our lover's more destructive techniques. Trust us when we say you don't want to get hit by that!

Reader: My food is burning because of you bastards! Only fair that I return the favor! Diable Jambe- Party Table Kick Course!

Everyone watches as the chef lets loose scorching hot kicks with a handstand while spinning. The heat alone melted the Stone Talus and scorch the nearby ground. When Reader was done, all that remain was ash and a large patch of burnt ground. Dink definitely fled albeit badly burned but learn a huge lesson.

DON'T PISS OFF READER.

Oh my goodness... no kidding.

Reader is a force to be reckoned with.

....They just round house kick the hoard of enemies with hell fire....

AND THE FOOD WAS BURTN D:<

Dark Link better not come back! How dare he!!!!!!

#pinky replies #Four's spouse #Four's lover #anon stories #....I don't remember the first half of this.... ^.^* #my apologies anon

[inkyquince]

"Without further ado, let the annual hunt begin!"- Mayor Quinn, 2022

STATUS: Open!

Omegas have become increasingly rare in England, and small towns are hit the hardest, with decreased birth rates overall. Oh woe, whatever shall they do?

Mayor Quinn of one infamous town has an idea. Benefits the important people and the important establishments in town, and that's their bread and butter after all.

The well trusted caretaker can look after the town's hoarded omegas, collected from different places, and once a year, the hunt is held, a night long race for the town's most important alphas and betas to each claim an omega, its only fair after all. From plaything, to being forced into work for their establishment, once that omega is theirs, they are allowed to do whatever they wish with it.

Good news for some, Quinn does turn a blind eye to any rapscallions that sneak into the hunt, after all, they would never tear a bonded pair apart like that! What sort of monster do you think they are?

Bad news for you, the day of the hunt is finally upon you and your peers. Kept in cages until dusk, you could hear the excited chatter of the alphas and betas just out the door, kept away from the terrified scent of the poor little omegas.

You are assured that if you get through till dawn without being claimed, you are let free for another year.

But just when you have that little glimmer of hope, you are all sprayed down with strange chemicals that kick start your heat. Without even a second to gather yourself, head dizzy and legs unsteady, the cages are opened and the forest looms ahead.

You have a three minute head start. Better start running before someone catches up to you. Good luck.

Hello and welcome FBI's most and least wanted, to Inky's first hosted collaboration for Degrees of Lewdity!

We already have some of the highly esteemed scribblers of our fandom on board for writing for the large plethora of ladies, gentlemen, interesting miscellanea and degenerates of our favorite game. As of the 20th of June, the event is open to join and submit your entry, just message me with the character you want to write for, and your blog name, and I shall link your work!

The event doesn't have a solid closing, but want people to feel free to always add, and not be stressed about turning it in!

Shall also be posted to AO3, you can find the collection here!

♡ Rules of the Hunt ♡

Gender Neutrality is encouraged for fairness, but its truly up to you.

Multiple authors writing for the same character is more than okay.

Make sure to tag your work for anything triggering.

This is a NSFW collab so to join, please have your age clearly in the bio!

We do want to avoid snuff, scat and ANYTHING underage, but everything else is fine, as long as you tag.

Entities of Interest

➳@angelgoeslewd • Whitney

➳@angrelysimpping • Wren

➳@cloudsmooch • Bailey

➳@crookedkryptonitebeliever • Eden

➳@fauxyandere • Robin

➳@hopefully-hellbound • Briar • Veteran Guard

➳@inkyquince • Jordan + Sydney • Prison Guards

➳@letstalktea • Niki • Leighton

➳@love-toxin • Harper

➳@monstrousvoice • Avery

➳@myhereditament • Bailey

➳@necromantix • Leighton

➳@necroticguts • Black Dog

➳@prey-and-predator • Gwylan

➳@tinypixl • Remy

➳@twisted-alte • Kylar

➳@undead-merman • Harper • Landry

➳@whoreforbailey • Alex • Sirris

#dol collab #dol #degrees of lewdity #omegaverse #nsft #quincewrites #others writing #had to drop announcement a bit earlier since weather making internet funky #ah well #degrees of lewdity collab

[thegrapeandthefig]

Thank you for answering about why you chose Thasos. You said you could do a whole post on the UPG and the inscription alone. No rush but when you have time I'd love to read it!

(This took me much longer to put together than I wish it had, my apologies for the wait. Fair warning to everybody who isn't the anon, this is a follow-up question to this post. I strongly recommend you read this preliminary post first for important context).

Let me start with the inscription, since it requires a bit of commentary. Here is my translation (from French to English; as it was published without the full ancient Greek text):

For you, an open-air temple, enclosing an altar, and its cradle of (grape)vine, O prince of the Maenads, a beautiful evergreen cave. That is, Dionysus Bakkheus, what Timokleides, son of Diphilos, founded; and for the initiated, a venerable oikos where to sing evohe, and the wave of the Naiads Nymphs with pure radiance; this is what with your grace, willing to mix the sweet nectar that pauses the worries of men has consecrated your priest, O blessed one; and you, in your turn, keep a physician in Thasos his homeland, keep him safe, you who always return young from year to year.

*the Greek term here is θυηπόλος which means “who performs sacrifices”, “priest” but also “diviner/soothsayer”. The French translators chose the term “minister”, and I’m choosing “priest” for simplicity’s sake, but while Timokleides was clearly the one performing the sacrifice that is linked to this dedication and this altar, but it’s impossible to say if he was a “Priest” from the term alone (as in city, temple-bound priest).

To give some background: This inscription was found in Thasos and dates back to the 1st century AD. It gives us information on the dedicant - Timokleides - who self-describes as a local doctor. The overall context, which is supported by other, more fragmentary, inscriptions from Thasos is that the island was the home to private dionysian associations (thiasoi, but not always) whose presence on the island span between the 1st century AD to the 3rd century. What hints at an associative context here is the mention of “the initiated”. The altar Timokleides was dedicating was both for his personal use and the use of the member of the association he was a part of.

But what made this inscription stand out to me isn’t the associative context. It was those first few lines: “For you, an open-air temple, enclosing an altar, and its cradle of (grape)vine, O prince of the Maenads, a beautiful evergreen cave.” and it is precisely this description that led researchers Jaccottet and Wyler to write a dedicated article about it. Before I start summarizing their analysis on the matter, let me explain where my UPG comes in the picture.

My UPG was specifically a very vivid (lucid) dream in which the setting corresponds to the description given, with emphasis on the words I’ve put in bold. If I were to choose a picture to illustrate it, I’d choose something like this:

Except it was denser, wider, taller and seemed endless. I can recall the yellow-green colour of a harsh sun hitting the leaves, very much like on the brightest parts of the picture above. He was there, mostly silent, if not for a sentence about a ring on his finger that was of a stone sharing the same hue of bright green.

So when I read that description, a good few months after having this UPG, it rang a massive bell, but as I said in my last post, I had no clue what to do of the information and let it simmer. And it also didn’t come to me to check the location the inscription was linked to at the time.

Then I found the article, titled ‘‘Le bel antre toujours vert’’ : une architecture éphémère, entre texte et imaginaire by Anne-Francoise Jaccottet & Stéphanie Wyler. It was impossible to miss, because “un bel antre toujours vert” is the French translation to “a beautiful evergreen cave”. In this article, the authors focus on the ephemeral quality of certain altars, and especially the ones for Dionysus. They contextualise the important role of the idea of a cave in Dionysus’ myth (think the cave in which Semele gave birth, and then where the nymphs raised him.) They argue that the Ancients, in order to replicate the mythical idea of the verdant cave of Nysa and to link themselves with the Dionysian retinue (maenads and satyrs), have found architectural alternatives to create a vegetal “cave”, which has taken various forms throughout the centuries.

Now, concerning the Thasian inscription in particular, the authors come to a very similar conclusion to the one I ended up with through my UPG:

“Si ce temple en question n'a pas de toit en dur, le feuillage vert de la vigne se charge de lui en fournir un dont la nature sied particulièrement au dieu que l'on y compte honorer, Dionysos, dieu de la vigne et du lierre. Que cette structure, couverte de l'entrelacs des pampres, comme une tonnelle, soit reprise dans la dédicace par les termes d'"antre toujours vert" ne saurait dès lors paraître incongru. La verdure de la couverture végétale du temple fait écho au qualitatif aeithales, alors que la forme extérieure de l'ensemble, structure bâtie pour sa base et couverture de pampres, se conçoit assez naturellement comme une métaphore de l'antre.”

“If the temple in question does not have a hard roof, the green foliage of the vine provides it with one, the nature of which is particularly suited to the god it is intended to honour, Dionysus, god of the vine and ivy. The fact that this structure, covered with the interlacing of vine branches, like an arbour, is referred to in the dedication as an "evergreen cave" cannot therefore seem incongruous. The greenness of the temple's plant cover echoes the qualitative of aeithales*, while the external shape of the whole, a structure built for its base and covered with vine branches, is quite naturally conceived as a metaphor for the cave.” *ἀειθαλής = evergreen

The article itself is a call for historians to revisit the existing archaeological evidence with the knowledge of the existence of this type of structure, which might have been hard to notice.

So there it is. The full explanation of how I lost my mind trying to make sense out of this mess. In hindsight, I am glad it all spanned over several months to get from the UPG to Jaccottet's thesis to the last article I summarized, because otherwise the overload would have been real. It's only after all this that I decided to dig deeper into Thasos as an island, which links back to what I described in the first ask you sent. I am typically wary when it comes to sharing UPG because it is intrinsicly subjective, but this is a case where I feel I have enough material outside of it to justify why this isolated inscription was the turning point in my (very) personal practice.

#thasian recon #upg #very sorry if there are typos #I've finished writing this after a day of work and it's late and I'm tired lol

[lucy-sky]

Lucy! For your milestone celebration, might I ask for a kiss drabble?! It is such a cute idea! 💕 If I may ask for Din with the place in the rain and the reason being a first date?

Surprise (Din Djarin x Reader)

1143 words (once again turned out a bit longer than a normal drabble - I just can’t resist writing flashbacks and backstories); tooth-rotting fluff, partners/friends to lovers; gender neutral reader.

AO3 link

A/N: I’M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! :’))

REQUESTS CLOSED!

”So… Where exactly are we going?” you ask curiously, leaning against Din’s shoulder. Coordinates on the display don’t tell you anything. Pretty unusual of Din to hide something from you like that - you and him work together for almost a year, and your relationship grew from two rivaling bounty hunters into close friends who can trust each other with your lives.

Yes, you used to be… not very fond of each other, mildly speaking. But one day when the job went wrong, he was there to save you. That’s the way Din Djarin is - he can be grumpy, but never indifferent. So when you learnt that Razor Crest was destroyed, you offered him your ship and your company. It took a while to start really getting along, but in the end you both admitted that being partners is way more profitable than competing with each other for another bounty. It also turned out you have quite a lot in common: both lost parents at a rather young age, but not too young to forget how it happened; both pretty much used to being on your own.

“Din?”

“You’ll see,” he mutters. Maker, what’s going on? Why is he so mysterious today?

“Is that a date?” you say teasingly, but instantly regret it, because even through the helmet and the layers of coarse fabric and bescar you can feel him tensing.

“Sorry uh… I was just kidding. I mean it’s just that you left Grogu at Peli’s tonight, so I… Nevermind, just-”

“It’s a surprise,” he cuts you off.

“Oh.”

“Your birthday’s today, right?” Din suddenly asks. You blink at him, caught completely unawares.

“Wait, what?... You... you remembered?..”

*

You only mentioned your upcoming birthday once and it was during an argument. Din insisted that the job was too dangerous, so you should stay on board the ship and wait for him there. You had a different opinion.

“Look, Mando. It’s cute that you’re trying to protect me, but I think I have a right to decide for myself. I’m not a kid. Just so you know, I’m turning ___ years old in exactly three months! And don’t forget that I actually used to work alone before I met you!”

“Yeah, right. And got yourself in trouble,” he cocked his head, and you could clearly hear a chuckle in his voice, even through the modulator.

“Oh really? As if you’ve never been in trouble, bucket head!” you raised your eyebrows, putting your hands on your hips. Din let out a deep sigh.

“Okay. Fair enough,” he admitted. “Fine. Let’s do it together.”

*

“I always remember important things,” Din replies, still focused on piloting the ship. You feel your cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, but… It’s not important, really,” you mumble. “I haven’t celebrated it for ages, so…”

“Maybe it’s time to start,” he shrugs, finally turning his head in your direction. You don’t even know what to say. It’s so absolutely unexpected, and it makes your heart swell in your chest - a feeling you've never known before.

“We’re almost there,” Din announces, breaking the silence. “Prepare for landing.”

You obey quietly, taking your seat behind him and fastening the belt. You’re still flustered, but smiling to yourself.

A few minutes later you step out of the ship. The air is warm, filled with scents of unknown flowers, and you think you’ve never seen this much green in your entire life.

“You like your surprise?” Din asks, and you beam at him.

“I love it.”

Together you take a little walk before settling down on top of the hill. The sky already started turning light pink, the sun painting the tops of the trees with warm light.

“This planet is famous for its most beautiful sunsets in the galaxy,” Din tells you as you admire the view.

“That’s why you took me here?”

“Yeah, but also… Also there are no people around, so…” he pauses for a moment, “so I can do this.”

You watch his hands reaching the helmet and nearly hold your breath. Din's taking off his helmet, and somehow it's something so intimate, even though it's not the first time - you already saw his face once.

*

He was injured, unconscious, and you panicked. You’ve never been so scared of losing someone before. Probably because you didn’t really allow yourself to get too close with anyone. Without thinking, you removed the helmet to fix the wound on Din’s head before it was too late. Only when he woke up, and you saw his bewildered expression, you realized what you’ve done and your heart sank at the terrible thought.

“What if he never forgives me?..”

But to your surprise and relief Din didn’t seem angry or upset with you. He quietly explained that actually… He wasn’t a Mandalorian any longer, and technically there was nothing wrong about taking off the helmet for him. Not anymore.

“I’d still prefer other people not to know it though.”

His voice sounded unusually soft and somehow oddly vulnerable without the modulator.

“It’s uh… easier like that… You know. ”

“I understand,” you nodded, handing him the helmet. The smile on his face was incredibly gentle before he put it back on.

*

It happened a little more than a month ago. And now you’re looking at his bare face again, and every feature is so dear to you. Those big brown eyes looking at you with unspeakable tenderness; messy curls and patchy beard; lips that curl in a soft and shy smile. For the second time today you’re lost for words as his hand reaches your face, tentatively tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you breathe out.

It’s a chaste kiss at first, a soft brush of his lips against yours, so sweet but not nearly enough. You open up to him, fingers carding through the soft curls on the back of his head, and Din gladly accepts your invitation, darting his tongue forward to meet yours. A quiet hum escaping him is the sweetest sound you’ve heard.

“So I was right then… It’s a date,” you murmur against his mouth, making him chuckle softly.

“I think it is,” he confirms, kissing you again.

You’re completely lost in each other and don’t even notice the first drops of rain on your skin until it hits with full force.

“Dank farrik!” Din curses as you yelp in surprise.

“What the… Where did it come from?..” you shiver, scooting closer to his frame. “I mean… there wasn’t a single cloud like a minute ago!..”

“Well of course it had to happen exactly when I’m not wearing a helmet for once,” Din states, rolling his eyes, and you snort a laugh.

“You know what? I actually don’t mind the rain.”

“Yeah,” his fingers grasp your chin, gently tilting your face, his eyes deep and sparkling. “Me neither.”

Thank you for reading!!

No pressure tags: @munsonownsmyass & @afangirlshideaway

1500 Milestone Celebration Drabbles Masterlist  

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #drabble #requests #follower milestone #lucy tries to write

[z-m-3]

This is a bit embarrassing but do you have any advice for a guy who is ugly? I used to work in a place where we had to wear masks and now we dont have to wear them anymore and I heard that some of my female colleagues were making comments that I should have kept my mask on so I started wearing it again. And whenever I approach someone for marriage it either gets shot down straight away or ignored completely. I dont mean to compare to my friends but they gets lots and lots of attention from the same people that ignore me. Im happy for them because they are now super happy its just I dont have a plan for me and surgery would not be an option. I dont want to live my entire life alone but I also dont want to settle for someone who isnt actually attracted to me because thats not fair on them. Its not just my face too, im about 1.72m and not very strong and ill probably be bald when im older. Sorry to drop this on you its just that even my own family makes jokes about how I look

bro? you’re not ugly and who are these female co workers because I will fight them with my bare hands.

In Surah al Fajr Allah says:

15. And as for man, when his Lord tries him and [thus] is generous to him and favors him, he says, "My Lord has honored me."

16. But when He tries him and restricts his provision, he says, "My Lord has humiliated me."

The meaning behind this is that Allah blesses us constantly, but he has also divided provisions among his creation equally. And patience may be your test. Because like every human, Allah has written your spouse for you. And because she was written for you and you for her, then she will find comfort and peace in you, including your appearance. actually she’ll see you as the most attractive person on earth. I know we’ve all seen those couples that make us wonder how they got together because one is clearly more attractive than the other. but it literally doesn’t matter because they were created for each other and no one could’ve stopped that or the connection they felt with each other.

that being said, there’s no harm in working on your appearance if certain things make you self conscious, for example your size/strength can be improved through the gym. as for height, there’s plenty of petite girls that won’t mind the height. myself included I’m 5’5 and height really isn’t a big deal for me. also some of the coolest brothers I’ve met have been the ones that might not necessarily be considered the most attractive but wallahi their personality, principles and other qualities makes them the most attractive person in the room.

I’ll link a post I asked about this topic:

@tumblrinas feel free to add

[pandorafallz]

Vampire AU | First day at Hometree

The camp had two distinct moods when they got up for the day.

The moody shadow of rage emanating from Kim hadn’t changed too much; Jake had heard an argument start up again around 4 a.m. that had woken him up and it hadn’t improved and Jerome looked a little sheepish at breakfast as he tried to help regardless that her mood was directed at him. Glutton for punishment, if Jake ever saw one.

Then there was Nadine who was acting like she was pipped up on coffee and acted like rainbows and unicorns were frolicking about camp. She already had a spot picked out for the Weed once they were ready. Morgan was also more than happy to help get the land prepped with N’deh shadowing to make sure that the plot would be….suitable and respectably dug when the guy resurfaced from the depths of the jungle.

All in all, a weird start to the day.

Jake took the time to eat well in both bodies, not that Kim would let them go unfed given she had stress-cooked the rest of the fish into many Niktsyeys and so, needed to be eaten and his avatar was going to be dormant most of the day so it was necessary at the least his avatar would be good for most of the day. He’d need to link up before bed to see to its needs. He was sure one-day in-the-next-out would be his best routine to cater to both forms.

N’deh though, while usually a quiet observer, was more so. Something Jake had picked up on earlier, noting the man’s ears were on high alert, his tail swishing across the grass. Jake waited until he was back in his human body to roll his ass out of his shack and over the uneven grass to N’deh.

N’deh was standing up by the totem of bones, his ears sullen and his tail still swishing. His jaw was tense as Jake craned his head to look up to him.

“You okay?” Jake asked.

N’deh didn’t move, but he let out a soft breath. “I have had better days. This will be the first time in two years that the clan’s people will be coming this far out. Higher risk of discovery.”

Jake felt for the guy. Hiding from his own people and he didn’t think N’deh was dangerous to be worried about the reasons why. The science couple thought it was stupid, then it was harmless. Yet it clearly meant something.

“Will they force you out further if they knew?” Jake asked.

“I do not know. It’s been many years since I last saw my sister. She had a great responsibility for the clan. She will choose them over me without a doubt and I admire her resolve. She is older than me by nearly fifteen seasons. I was considered a.. late blessing from Eywa.”

“You…harbour no ill feelings?” He had no idea who his sister was but clearly of importance.

“No.” N’deh exhaled heavily. “Not entirely. A mild frustration at Eytukan for his…unwillingness to hear my heart for what I did. He’s a man of…tradition. He cares for his clan’s wellbeing and I do respect that.” His chin rose in pride as he spoke. “To…be around that, or to even stay at a vast distance, it hurts deeply.” His fingers rose, touching over the teeth of the skeleton. “Here, far enough to be nonintrusive, close enough to oversee my sister and niece. I can be content with that.”

Jake eyed the man softly. Certainly not the responses of a dangerous man. No anger. Kim had a very different response to a personal betrayal which put some perspective on the matter.

“Can I ask…what happened?”

N’deh exhaled out, “I am not ready to speak of it, Jakesully.”

Fair enough.

Jake turned his attention back to the massive skeleton with an edge of curiosity about what this meant for the Na’vi. “What’s this from?”

“My Ikran, txon'ong. In English, this name means Sunset or Dawn as his skin held the dark blue of the night sky with an orange edging that…look so much of when night falls and the moment before the plants come to life with light.” N’deh smiled fondly. “I miss him very much.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Jake empathised.

N’deh just nodded, “Thank you.” His ear twitched to the side. “I will see you later. Have a good time at Hometree.” And like that, he was gone through the bushes.

 -

Neytiri had made her appearance shortly after that, which explained N’deh’s bolting. Jake had since wheeled himself back to the shack and collected his bag and manuals that were ready in the airlock by the time she had fully entered their camp.

Her eyes took in his shack mostly, though made a curious noise to see the mauri’s up above…and the suspended shack. He had been here now long enough to get used to it but he still appreciated the view and skill.

“I did not see much of this last night.” She remarked, “Interesting placement of a metal home.”

Morgan then seemed to be ready to go, slipping out of the shack of discussion and down and landing lightly onto his feet, hands on his hips and only wearing his shorts, cotton vest of pockets and a sash that held his mask filter. Oddly, he also looked to have some sort of woven and damaged sling around his chest and his vest pocket looked to have a few lumps in it.

“We good to go?” he asked cheerfully.

Neytiri cocked her head to the side a little, examining him with some consideration. “Who will be leaving with today? Kim?”

“Kim won’t. She’s still angry and…Jerome wants to remain and cool frayed nerves.” Jake replied, “Why are you asking after her?”

“I informed my mother of her pregnancy, she will want to check upon the child’s development.”

“Ah, well it may take some convincing for her to come to Hometree. But, me and Morgan are coming, Nadine too but should be out in a second; she’s making sure her prosthetic kit is ready.”

“Protetich kit?” Neytiri asked.

“Prosthetic. Her metal limbs. They require her to bring tools in case a gear or protective shell gets damaged, or to get energy packs to make sure they’re functional all day since we won’t have a charger set up at your Hometree.” Jake explained.

Neytiri nodded though it didn’t escape him on how her eyes dipped down lower to his chair before she bent down. “What is that?”

Jake swivelled it around to show off the wheels. “My wheelchair. I’m…not just sitting down because I feel like it, I can’t walk. My spine got damaged. The only way I can get around that’s not crawling is this chair.” He explained, showing how he rolled back and forth though with some mild difficulty with the grass. Still, it proved a point. Plus, he vaguely remembered talking about his wheelchair last night…though he had to remember that she and most of the Na’vi didn’t have a concept of this sort of thing.

Neytiri eyed the chair, then to the surroundings. “You…wheels will not go far. Roots will be too big to get it over and…you cannot escape predators if danger.”

Jake shrugged, “I don’t need to go too far in this body. My avatar will be my legs for when I need them. I’m content to be limited in my chair. Food, water and company.” He gestured up though Nadine seemed to appear and began descending from the walkway and taut netting for ease of access to the pods.

“We ready to go?” Nadine asked brightly.

Neytiri eyes him for a moment longer then nodded. “We will travel by Pa’li.”

Nadine nodded, “Giant horses, got it.” She turned to Jake. “You’re up front. I’ll be at the back. I’ll keep hold of the chair”

Jake saluted with two fingers, gently slinking out of his chair, and folding it up. Neytiri seemed to scowl a little as she realised they were taking the chair but Nadine shot the woman’s argument down very quickly with a wave of her prosthetic arm. Mobility aids were non-negotiationable; so what if he had wheels if her arm was made of metal? Being picked up like a child was humiliating and being set up at the front was another. There was no room for Neytiri with three humans on the Pa’li so she opted to run beside it.

It was still a long trip, though, outside his avatar, he felt much smaller and…vulnerable. He gripped the harness of the Pa’li a little more; unsure how well seated he was though he could see Morgan’s legs were close enough that he was probably scooting back a little into his body; much safer but probably less comfortable for his behind-companion.

But they reached Hometree and they dismounted at the near roots of Hometree. He was lifted down onto the ground, Nadine jumping off, using her prosthetic to take more of the force with a wince but unloaded his chair and let him set it up before they were ushered inwards.

“Whoa…” Morgan looked impressed, craning his head up to look around the vast roots and spirals.

“What?”

“I’ve never been to Hometree before.” Morgan said, “Like…I heard about it but… I wasn’t allowed. Like… Jer and Kim, they’re big and blue so…they were accepted.”

Jake frowned a little though it set his expectation low for certain that it was going to take a lot to be seen as equals here.

Tsu’tey and Eytukan were waiting by the spiral, looking sharp and…ready. Though the sight of him on wheels didn’t look to excite them about their visits but Jake kept his face firm.

“What is that?” Tsu’tey looked a little more disdainful of it, gesturing with the end of his bow.

“My wheelchair. As I said yesterday, this body cannot walk so I must use this aid to get where I want to be within reasonable accessibility” He gave a somewhat of a spin, though it was poor but he was glad the ground was flat enough for ease.

Eytukan nodded though with very little interest. “Neytiri, you will direct two of the humans to work.”

“Can I go to weavers?” Morgan asked Neytiri.

Neytiri eyed him for a moment then nodded. “This way.”

Nadine clapped Jake on the arm. “Call me when you get to any flying vehicles, I know those better than you do.” She added then padded away after Neytiri, her leg’s mechanics oddly loud in comparison.

Jake nodded, carefully peeling off his bag and pulled out his tablet. “I brought images to help and the instruction manuals that tell the reader how things work and in my case, how to damage stuff more efficiently.”

Both chief and Tsu’tey lowered themselves to kneeling for closer inspection.

“Now, before I get into this…I need you to understand that the RDA can’t know that Na’vi will be damaging their equipment. If they know it’s you or any of the Omatikaya then that will give them a plausible reason to come after you much sooner than anticipated. If you kill a soldier, or a scientist or avatar, damn, even us three humans here,” gesturing to himself, “then they can spin the story to look like the victim and you, the Na’vi, the villains that are out to get them.”

“They tell many lies. We know the truth.” Tsu’tey seemed to scoff.

“Hm, what a story. Jake Sully, a paraplegic veteran who survived a harrowing ordeal of war. Escapes the human base for peace and a quiet life in nature, but gets brutally murdered by an alien clan for his presence on their land.” Jake proposed, “Not the heroic story of the Omatikaya, protector of their lands by removing the growing invasion of the sky-people on their territory. I’m sure you can see how that makes you look for those without context. That sad story is a very good motivator for other humans to call for war, or for revenge. Not on me personally, but the next human or the next avatar….whichever winds up at the end of your arrow.” Jake inhaled deeply. “Humans work together very well with the right motivation, right fear, and right grief. You may become their common enemy to fight against which may be all it takes. You destroy their stuff and they know about it, they’ll come for you. If you destroy their stuff and make it look like an accident of nature, then they won’t. I am telling you that secrecy is your necessity. Otherwise, the school shooting is going to look like nothing in comparison to what they will do.”

It pained him a little to bring up such a topic so causally and both the guys seemed to flinch at the reminder but it put their scepticism aside to listen more seriously.

“I’m sorry for what happened and for bringing it up,” Jake apologised, “No more needless deaths on both sides. I am not here to get humans killed because… I am human myself. I am willing to learn and maybe other humans may learn from me. I don’t know. But I do want to help and make sure that you do not lose your home. You shouldn’t have to.”

“How did you get all of this information? They clearly protect their equipment with great reverence. Not simple?”

“Actually, it was very simple.” Jake snorted, “When I came here, I wasn’t here as a scientist so they thought I’d be more useful for their wants and desires. Now, I had already planned to leave when they approached me with a mission. Now, right now that doesn’t look as good for me because what they wanted me to do was to get here and try and learn your ways and…well, try and convince you to leave.” Jake rolled his eyes, knowing full well this statement made the young warrior tense up but he carried on before the guy could interrupt.. “So, I played along so they didn’t suspect. The night before I left, I asked for more sensitive information—information that’s not easy to access unless you’re the leader or head of security. Selfridge literally handed over this information to me when I asked for it. I said I needed to know the whole plan and; where they were going, what they were going to flatten in their path…that sort of thing.” He touched along the tablet, very aware of the burning gaze of Tsu’tey’s suspicion.

He brought up the map, tilting to Eytukan and began to slowly go through the bulldozer’s anticipated pathway. Though it was easy to see the building fury in their eyes at the landmarks in the way, Tsu’tey literally hissed at the sight of white-tendrils willow-like trees being dead in the flattening line.

“No. We will not let this happen!”

“Which is why I’m here. You need to establish your end-point to stop the dozers before you destroy them but until then you need to do everything before that secretly to delay them as long as possible. You have about…ninety days, maybe a little less given this is seven days outdated and the dozers are probably on the road. There are ways to quickly disable the beasts.”

“What are your suggestions?” Eytukan spoke firmly.

“I’ve seen your attacks on the other dozer and ground vehicles. You attack them as if they are animals and mainly aim to disable them by going for the wheels. Not the engine; their heart. The engine is located within protective shells. You tamper with the engine, it’s not going to move. They’re operated now remotely so they reliant on cameras; their eyes…” So Jake carried on, pulling out the data and images to get down into business.

He talked through the dozer’s weak points, easy access first and obvious; but also highlighted the areas exposed to the cameras and ways to get around that., the antenna placement for an emergency hit that’ll knock out the entire thing given it was remotely controlled. Dozers had lots of sensors; what to overload with natural ‘information’ that’d activate a security shutdown.  He went through everything the manual had as a risk. Pausing for five minutes was mercy as the two Na’vi began to discuss options in Na’vi.

Jake then moved what vehicles did what on the field; which was the targets to go for, what was useless to attack and disable as they had many replacements on the go or what was simply just expendable. The AMP suits were a problem but Jake had been clear that killing the pilot would be bad and so, would need a non-lethal suggestion; blinding the pilot by covering the canopy with paints had been Nadine’s suggestion when she had finally reappeared.

“How are we supposed to disable the flying beats without killing the pilot? At a fall, they would still perish.” Eytukan asked, eyeing the image of the Scorpion and Samson.

“True, it’s harder to do in the air but those circular things on either side are your best options; high enough, they can jump out with parachute; a safe way to land without a ship than they can lower. You can shoot out the glass but the glass for the ships breaks depending on the vector of your strike but shooting the glass should be a last resort. Go for the wings. Those are called rotator fans; without those, they cannot fly. If one is hit, then they start a decent, and fall into a rotational drift.” Nadine used what looked like a child’s toy as a demonstration of their falling pattern. “They’ll switch from offence to escape.”

Jake watched as she spoke next through each air flying vehicle they had and what to avoid, how their weapons worked to typical formation; drawing the typical response patterns; how to recognise the different shifts and how to counter them.

Morgan even joined in to add more about the soldiers that would be on the ground; what they’ll judge as a worthy threat to what they’ll let pass for their own survival. They’d leave animals be, mostly unless board enough to try for target practice but animals an active threat to them would cause humans to try and shoot, but two animals fighting each other and not caring about the humans then they’re at less risk of a shooting.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” Jake mused, “The Na’vi could herd some of the bigger animals into the way. Or set scent traps onto the dozers.”

“Scent traps?” Tsu’tey asked.

“Yeah, like coat an important part of something that smells like a threat or a mate and would entice another to it. Augustine told me that there’s a sap that you use to ward off predators. I used that on my first day to avoid Viperwolves….”

“Wait, what did it make you smell like?” Morgan asked, seemingly clocking onto something first. “Like… there’s a few saps that make a smell but it’s very particular. Kim told me all about that and what to expect. The saps we use at camp at night are insect repellent.”

“Not sure. Maybe a Slinth or a slinger?”

Morgan’s head tilted though he seemed to grin a little. “A Slinth.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed at the guy. “What?”

“You got chased away from Augustine’s group by a Slinth…”

“What’s a Slinth?” Nadine asked quietly.

“You ever see a third-stage Demogorgon from Stranger Things on Earth?” Morgan asked cryptically, still grinning.

“I don’t like where that is going.” Nadine wrinkled her nose.

“It’s face opens up.” Jake wrinkled his nose.

Nadine gagged a little, “No!”

“It was not fun.” Jake added, “But, it didn’t attack me outright.”

“Because you were wearing Slinth sap.” Morgan pointed out, “Correct me if I’m wrong but… isn’t the sap used to smell like a Slinth often smell more…feminine?” He posed that question more to the Na’vi but it was open to the group.

Jake’s eyes widened in alarm as his brain caught up with the implication “Wait, it thought I was a female Slinth?!”

Nadine began to snigger.

Morgan nodded, “I bet it was so confused; you looked like a Na’vi but you smelled wonderful and feminine and it wasn’t sure if it liked it.” 

“Oh…” Jake felt his cheeks flame, “Well that explains a lot!” It had been so calm, hell, he had even heard Augustine remark how its behaviour was off when he had unlinked that night.

Nadine began to crack up at that, using Morgan to keep herself upright.

The chief clicked his tongue for attention though looked somewhat amused at his ignorance but it was a reminder to get back to the topic.

Eventually, they were dismissed back into helping once they covered the rest. Nadine took him to the weavers; struggling to be overly useful as the fibres kept getting caught in her hand and the cracking sound of the gears was disturbing to the group of women. One of the women suggested a hand covering for her and moved her to basket weaving. Jake had had some mild lessons from N’deh on how to handle the twine but it took more practised hands to help get him going more efficiently. Morgan was…elsewhere but resurfaced covered in paint…or dye.

Of course, as he weaved, needing less time to think about what he was doing as he got comfortable with the twine and pattern, his mind began to wander.

For his first official day, he knew was a lot said and his voice was sore from all the talking but it’d take time for the Omatikaya to trust that information once they no doubt went out to vet it themselves. His talk of the Slinth had brought up Augustine back into his mind.

Her.

Or more precisely, what she was.

Jake knew that he was going to tell them but…he’d need to tell the Eytukan and the Tsahìk mostly. Neytiri and Tsu’tey would be best given they were in the next in line for those positions as well…. And well they probably knew Augustine as well. How they were going to react, he didn’t know but…they deserved to know.

Vampires were a threat.

“Come, Jakesully. Time to return you to camp.” Tsu’tey announced with a sniff, not content but clearly following orders.

Jake pulled himself back into his chair. “Promise not to throw me off the Pa’li halfway back?” He asked, fully expecting the attempt though hoped to lighten the mood. 

Tsu’tey considered his words with a sniff. “Not this time.” Though if he looked a little disappointed, he didn't know it. 

 -

Grace was glad to be…undisturbed as she studied in her quarters, flicking through her tablet screen on recent samples, making notes to finalise them into a request for the next team to find those plant samples that would be further into Omatikaya territory.

They were all still aware they’d have to keep an eye out for Sully though she hoped to god that it wasn’t her or her team personally that found him. He was a risk she wasn’t willing to take. Of course…one human memory was…somewhat easy to wipe. Kamath was the renowned telepath of the group. But…if she was in her avatar then she couldn’t either stop Jake or get the others to forget; the link room was public after all. She didn’t have the privacy of a link-shack. However, long-term knowledge was hard to remove, according to Kamath. So wiping Jake would be ineffective at best.

So avoidance of him was probably for the best. Though it did make her wonder how he knew...

Grace stole a glance at the time, taking a moment to hope everyone was worn to exhaustion before she pulled off her noise-isolating headphones. Kathrine’s idea and recent gift had been these headphones to each of them from the MineOps, Though their super hearing was far superior, it still hampered their hearing enough to just about five meters in all directions than what it used to be. It was nice, to be more cut off. More popular most nights for those vampires not feeding or hooking up with someone. They had acknowledged as a group to be aware they’d not have much privacy with each other given their heightened senses, one of the reasons Grace actively never slept with anyone since.

The ambient sound of a sleeping Hell’s Gate returned to her ears, making her groan a little before she let her ears readjust again; the buzzing lights, thundering heartbeats, sleeping breaths of those asleep…

“Grace!” Paz’s sharp voice echoed through the sharp quietness in alarm, though her tone set her worry off immediately. Grace shoved herself out of her chair, forcing herself to remain at a brisk running pace given the cameras active in this area but made it otherwise record time down the corridor, her shoes skidding through at the smell of blood that ticked her throat.

Paz kneeling next to the slumped form of Ashely Sloan who was leant up against one of the pipes, The woman was of her avatar drivers, supporting the woman’s body and head mostly up and still and for good reason by the blade sticking out of the woman’s neck. Ashely’s eyes were hazy and blood did seem to drip down her lips and chin which did suggest the blade had pierced through her pipe though it wasn’t as much which meant the blade was stopping the bleeding for now. The fact the woman was conscious was good, even for her non-medical eye, that was good. Sloan looked to have bruises as well, Her left eye and cheekbone were swollen but thankfully, it seemed like she was fully clothed but it didn’t make this attack anything less than tragic and unnecessary.

Paz looked very…allured by the blood, her irises were black with thirst now and her teeth were sharpened into her dual fangs though her breath was held. She must have been looking for her next meal than to come across this. This wasn’t good if baby Miles had been feeding more himself off her supply.

“Paz, go and get medical now.” Grace dropped down, her hand coming to replace Paz’s on the woman’s neck; keeping her neck still and pressing down to keep the blade stable. Given the state of the woman, there was no way of getting consent; not to mention…this would bring up a lot of questions if her attacker thought her dead.

Paz lingered, licking her lips until Grace hissed enough, baring her own teeth to get her attention away. Paz jumped to her feet, dashing off with a pitiful whine echoing after her.

“Someone, get Quaritch!” Grace echoed back.

“Fuckin hell…” Mansk’s voice echoed but she heard him move and get out of bed.

“She’s lucky to be alive, right now, she’s stable and if all goes to plan, she may make a full recovery” Dr Drennek finished. “If help had been any later, she would have bled out by the time she had reached medical bay.”

Grace was in her bunk, listening to the debrief Selfridge and Quaritch from the surgeon them on Sloan’s condition in Selfridge’s office. By the sounds of it, Selfridge sounded tired but…Quaritch was fired up; his heart thundering in quiet rage as the woman spoke.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Selfridge dismissed the woman sharply

Quaritch huffed out, his feet echoing as he turned. “I’m taking this investigation. Augustine’s given me her report on the matter along with Socorro.” His voice wavered a little on her but he remained professional. “When Sloan can link up with her avatar, then she can give me her report. I’ll need Augustine to talk with medical that possibility. Once Sloan’s…out of the danger zone.”

“Okay, but let’s keep this on the down-low, here.” Selfridge decided, pulling both the Coronel’s attention to him. “Finish your investigation but be discreet.”

Grace frowned though she could already see this was going to be leaked regardless. No one was going to be happy.

 “Excuse me?” Quaritch grilled.

“Look, we can’t afford this getting out. The last thing we need is rumours of ‘attempted murder’ in Hell’s Gate when people still have to live with each other. We don’t need people getting paranoid or scared. I trust you to use your team, Miles, but this stays in-house. You can tell Augustine to keep her trap shut about the incident. This is being handled.”

“You’re handing her ire when she comes up here to complain.” The Colonel spoke, not sounding pitiful.

There was only a few seconds pause before Grace realised someone was walking towards her bunk, not even knocking before Walker came strolling in with a fixed glare straight at her and slammed the door after her.

“You shouldn’t have interfered.” Walker hissed, her teeth sharp in her mood. “Or at the very least turned her like you did with Hale or Socorro.”

“No point going onto the what-ifs here. Paz didn’t slip up and I actually will keep one of my people alive. I don’t turn just anyone I come across dying without them giving consent to it.”

“Oh boo-fucking-who, Grace. Any investigation is a risk!”

“And what about her attacker? Huh? What’s he gonna do when he sees his victim up and about, all healed and no injury? Do you think he’s not gonna wonder? Gonna approach her again? Sloan is scrappy as fuck and will certainly kill him. That will be a risk.”

There was already of lot of vampires and Grace…didn’t want to add to that again. Would she have turned her? Probably. But she felt the woman had a lot of strength to keep fighting as a human. No point in snuffing out that light needlessly. This wasn’t like last time—crash landed then otherwise stranded on a floating mountain for hours, waiting for a new Samson to rescue with two dying humans. They had a medical facility within reasonable range here. Plus, it wasn’t like any of them had attacked to kill anyway so Grace didn’t care.

“This isn’t about her attacker, you had no reason to go straight there. You weren’t casual, you didn’t have a radio on you and they’re gonna notice that on the camera feeds. You…didn’t even make it look convincing that you even stumbled across Socorro or Sloan.”

“So what? It’s not like you’ve never stopped an attack either. Go sniff out the attacker if you’re so inclined, his scent was there. Might be good to tip Quaritch off on who to look for and close up the investigation.” Grace growled, using her power to open her door and shove the other vampire out into the hallway then slammed it after her.

 -

Doctor Drennek eyed the woman who lay on the bed, tubes down her throat to keep her breathing uncompromised for the next few days. A pitiful sight that was once again, another attack. Non-sexual which was a relief but it probably started off as a rejection that went to violence.

Sloan’s major injury was the neck wound. Her left eye and cheek were swollen with mild fractures and her arms and back had bruises on. The back of her arms had defensive cuts. All injuries were noted on their report but… Drennek felt this was just going to go nowhere.

Again.

Aside from the victim, there was nothing to go off and no known perpetrator. Doctor Sloan wasn’t able to answer and…she doubted she’d be ready to, even when she was awake.

“Mind if I come in?” A voice echoed softly. “I’ve got time to kill so… I kinda don’t wanna leave her…alone.” The woman in the doorway was tall, shoulder-length copper hair with sharp facial features and dark blue eyes. It shouldn’t surprise her really that Trinity Harper had taken it upon herself to be here. Victims often sought out each other for or to offer help.

Drennek turned though nodded softly. “Of course,” she spoke. “I was going to request a female guard for her anyway.”

Harper nodded, though her eyes remained sad as she stood just in at the door. “How long will she be like this?”

“A few weeks. She’ll have access to her avatar when she’s awake and stable but not medically cleared for anything.” Drennek spoke. “She was lucky.”

Harper made a disagreeing sound. “She still won’t be safe here, Doc. Especially after she wakes”

Drennek didn’t say anything. What could she say? No one here was truly safe. People got away with a lot. Too much. She didn’t know how it got past Quaritch but… it had. They were only fortunate this time that of all people, Dr Augustine, the head of SciOps got involved to kick the head of Security into action. Her position was favourable this time and…well Augustine was a well-known bitch at inconveniences and this was one that directly impacted her department.

Harper sighed. “A few weeks… We can work with that.”

-

Heres the Masterlist for the other chapters

#avatar #avatar au #avatar james cameron #grace augustine #avatar the way of water #mo'at #jake sully #neytiri #avatar rda #vampire #norm spellman #miles quaritch #parker selfridge