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cardfight-casual · 10 months

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Heavy Artillery of Dust Storm, Eugene post DBT-09

Budget friendly here we come. It’s my boy, Eugene. AKA maybe the worst boss card from DBT-01? But that was over two years ago. Eugene himself might not be the best by himself, but his rearguards more than make up for what he lacks. Why is this post DBT-09 instead of DBT-10? Because I haven’t decided if I’m going to add any of the newer cards yet. Needs more testing. The triggers here are a bit messy, but I’ll finally have all effect triggers eventually. They’ll be listed a bit differently from normal since I don’t want to list a bunch of one-of placeholders.

Deck Log Code: GEKN Ride Deck: -x1 Heavy Artillery of Dust Storm, Eugene -x1 Cataclysmic Bullet of Dust Storm, Randor -x1 Gunning of Dust Storm, Nigel -x1 Double Gun of Dust Storm, Bart Main Deck: Grade 3 -x3 Heavy Artillery of Dust Storm, Eugene -x4 Hunting Gatling of Dust Storm, Firas -x3 Best Harvest (Order) Grade 2 -x4 Twin Bullet of Dust Storm, Travis -x4 Strong Fortress Dragon, Gibrabrachio Grade 1 -x4 Assault Bullet of Dust Storm, Oswald -x4 Strong Sharp Dragon, Geizfort -x4 Twin Buckler Dragon Grade 0 -x3 Draw Trigger -x4 Critical Trigger -x4 Front Trigger -x4 Heal Trigger -x1 Dragon Deity King of Resurgence, Dragveda (Over Trigger) Eugene gets overlooked a lot. Since he wasn’t very good when he came out, most people tend to forget about him, and that’s probably only going to be even more true now that Gandeeva exists. But Gandeeva is expensive. And thankfully, Eugene mostly isn’t. There’s really only one card that breaks the 10USD threshhold, and that’s the over trigger. If you used base rarity for everything and stuck to vanilla triggers and Olbaria, you could put Eugene together for around 35USD as of writing this. That’s including the special perfect guards as well, so you could drop that about 12USD or so if you run one of the start deck ones. Heck, you could even get frame rares or holos for a lot of these units and it would barely change the cost at all. The main goal for Eugene is to retire rearguards. Somewhat expected for Dragon Empire. His second skill is mainly useless unless you’re in desperate need of units on the field. The main skill you’ll want to be using every turn, assuming the other player lets you, is his first skill. You rest two of your own units to retire an enemy rearguard, then he gains 10k power. That skill might have been a deal-breaker way back in DBT-01, but as early as DBT-02 he already had a card that could use that to its advantage. Gibrabrachio can stand itself and gain 5k power as long as your opponent only has one rearguard when battle starts. Even if you don’t rest it with Eugene’s skill, you can soulblast one and rest it to retire one, so it can get the re-stand and power anyway. Geizfort works similarly and is one of your preferred rest targets. Once per turn, when an enemy rearguard is retired, it can stand and gain 2k power. Since the skill that rested them in the first place retired a unit, they would stand right away and essentially be 10k boosters. The newest card I’ve added to the deck is Firas. He helps you search out Best Harvest when he’s placed, and he’s another preferred rest target. Despite being a grade 3, usually you actually want Firas in your back row. When an opponent’s rearguard is retired, as long as you soulblast one, he can stand and gain boost until end of turn.Since ideally you’re retiring something every turn, he’s consistently a 13k booster. Your final unit capable of retiring is Travis. He’s not the cheapest since he sees play in other decks as well, but he makes things so much more consistent. Once a turn when an enemy rearguard is retired, you can counterblast to soulcharge and retire another unit, then he gains 10k power. And your last grade 1 is Oswald. It’s not too often that I’ve actually gotten to a situation where I can use Oswald, but his skill is just too good not to have. Your opponent has to have no rearguards, but with all your other units working together, it’s 100% possible to clear them all out before the battle phase. As long as he’s boosting Eugene and the opponent is also on grade 3, he lets you counterblast one and discard a card to re-stand Eugene with one drive and one critical. In situations where this is possible, you want to attack with Eugene first to maximize how dangerous your front row rearguards can be. Oswald is also why you can get away with having Olbaria instead of Dragveda. Best Harvest is the only order this build runs for now. What is does is simple enough. When you play it, just choose a vanguard and give it a continuous skill that lets you draw a card whenever an opposing rearguard is retired. If their board is full and you retire everything while this is active, that’s five new cards in hand. The only excuse for not including this would be because it’s only gotten more expensive over time. As of writing this though, it’s only around 3USD, so still budget friendly. A few possible alternative choices for the deck would include: -Spiritual King of Determination, Olbaria Technically any of the over triggers with the same skill would also work. Dragveda is not cheap, and until it gets reprinted as much as Gallmageheld has, it’s not going to be cheap. Thankfully, Eugene doesn’t care as much about which over trigger you use, they’re both effective. Sure Dragveda gives you the opportunity to re-stand the vanguard,but since Oswald is also here Olbaria giving 100mil power to two units instead of just one is also plenty effective. -Fierce Bullet of Dust Storm, Nawfal I guess Randor needed a friend that also had a not normal name. This promo card is still a bit on the pricey side at over 3USD, but if you happen to have him and want to use him, then go for it. His main use would be recycling units you might want to call by putting them on top of deck as long as you’ve retired something that turn. Downside is he can only select cards that are normal units and not sentinels. -Howitzer of Dust Storm, Dustin This card used to be played in this deck before the addition of Firas. You have to put a hand card into soul, but he lets you draw one and then retires a grade 2 rearguard. His second skill gives him 2k for every open rearguard circle on your opponent’s field for that battle for the cost of a soulblast. -Inscribing Bullet of Dust Storm, Baxter This guy is weird, but the art is nice. I can’t imagine his continuous skill ever being of much use since it requires your opponent to attack it from a column other than the one he’s in. Especially since it just prevents him from being hit. His other skill is the interesting one. Baxter on his own can’t retire any units, but when a rearguard in the same column as him is retired, he gives 5k power to himself and the vanguard. If the column was previously full and you retired the whole thing, then Baxter gives himself and your vanguard 10k power just because he’s on the board. I wouldn’t run more than two or three copies, but this is a DBT-10 card I’ve considered making space for. -Scarlet Flame Bow of Demolition This would be in addition to Best Harvest, not a replacement. Remember how Baxter benefits from retired rearguards in the same column as him? Well this order, for the cost of a counterblast, chooses a column and retires the enemy units in it. Since this order chooses a column, instead of a unit like most of the other retire skills in the deck, this can get around units that say they can’t be chosen. If I can find the space, this is another card from DBT-10 I’d like to test in this deck. Sadly Eugene often gets written off as a bad deck just because he wasn’t great at initial release. Thankfully for budget players, this means that most of his cards are extremely affordable, and the powerful rearguard skills more than make up for what the vanguard might lack. He might not be winning any major tournaments any time soon, but Eugene is still a really fun deck that manages to pull out a victory sometimes. Remember, these deck lists are for fun and not necessarily optimized. If you have another card that you think would make a better fit, then go for it and test it out. If you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to send me a message!

#cardfight!! vanguard #cardfight!! vanguard overdress #standard decklist #dragon empire #heavy artillery of dust storm eugene #budget deck list

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kerosene-in-a-blender · 17 days

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Imogen and Dorian have a really interesting parallel going on where they're both playing with the themes of reluctant leadership (Imogen is struggling with being pushed into leadership of Bells Hells by Orym, and Robbie stated on the first 4 sided dive episode that he specifically built Dorian to play in that narrative space) and are often indecisive as a result, but the specifics of how exactly they're indecisive are slightly different. Dorian tends to resist making decisions at all until his hand is forced, while Imogen often makes big decisions that she rapidly walks back.

Imogen has, multiple times now, chosen to walk into the storm/connect with Predathos in her Ruidusborn nightmares only to become spooked by what she encounters and go to back to running from the storm/Predathos the next time she dreams, and as such, she's spent much of the narrative waffling about if or how much she should embrace the storm and the powers it gives her. Another example is her removing the Circlet of the Hidden Eye after Ashton's disastrous attempt to absorb the shard of Rau'shan. She stated she did this because she felt that if she'd been able to know what Ashton was planning she could have stopped them, as "one of [her] strengths is knowing". But this never came into play, she never used her abilities to try and know what the rest of the party was doing to try and prevent them from making bad choices, and she ended up putting back on and reattuning the circlet on Ruidus after the party narrowly avoided Otohan Thull to try and prevent her from tracking them. It should be noted that avoiding being tracked by the Vanguard is the reason she bought the circlet in the first place, and so it was a benefit she knowingly discarded by taking it off.

Dorian, in contrast, often puts off making decisions until he is absolutely forced to by the circumstances, but will stick to them once he's made them. Back in the very early days of the campaign, after Cyrus had revealed himself to be in Jrusar with a massive bounty on his head, Dorian spent a lot of time mentally struggling with whether to stay with the Hells or to try and help Cyrus somehow. Robbie noted during the party's encounter with Artana Voe in the back of the Soot and Swill that Dorian wanted to coerce information about Cyrus' situation out of her after the party had gotten the information they needed on Gurge, but he ultimately chose to follow his friends, albeit very worried about Cyrus. But when Cyrus was being arrested by the Green Seekers at the ball Dorian instinctively intervened, and forced them both to have to flee the continent, he showed no regret about this despite being saddened to part with the Hells. During the recent Crownkeeper's interlude, while Dorian's lack of effectiveness in the combat with Opal was driven by Robbie just not rolling well that whole fight, he flavoured it as Dorian being overwhelmed by the situation and not sure what the the right course of action was and so not really doing anything even as the rest of the group were all making hard choices. But after he was forced to leave by Opal's Mass Suggestion and Cyrus was killed, Dorian committed himself to going to find Orym and participate in whatever fight he'd gotten himself into, to the point that when he asks Keyleth if the Hells are ready to go to Aeor (as they're sorting through a truly staggering number of random body parts), he very specifically asks about THEM; he already knows he's committed to this.

Both of these characters second guess their own choices a lot, Dorian before and Imogen after making them, and I'm fascinated to see where this goes for the both of them since they're both in a place at this point where taking a leadership role is something they will have to do at some point. Imogen has been solidly presented as the leader of the group to the Volition, who are looking to be a major allied force for the Hells going forward, and with Cyrus dead, Dorian's first in line to the throne of the Silken Squall. Despite their doubts they both going to have make the kind of choices they have historically avoided or walked back.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #imogen temult #dorian storm

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utilitycaster · 3 months

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Honestly it's incredible how masterful the hints within the story are regarding Liliana - how she is the darkest version Imogen could become, how she will tell her daughter to run away from the storm and then turn around and lure someone else's son into it. How she, someone who became entangled in the Vanguard while frustrated by a lack of answers and perhaps a desire to belong preys on those same insecurities in others. How she abandoned her daughter and then told her it was for her own good. Imogen just needs to invoke her name and the Vanguard recruits jump. Was there a world where she would have listened to a better persuasion check, or would it have just caught her off guard for a round or two?

#honestly liliana and ludinus complement each other beautifully his coldness and her false warmth #also otohan is there with a farting jetpack and a personality replaced by frogs i guess #two out of three fantastic villains ain't bad though #cr spoilers #critical role #liliana temult

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spookyspecterino · 9 months

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Grunt Work

Sam Coe x GN! Reader

GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain sometimes, like in the game.

Canon typical violence: blood, injury, mentions of death, guns, language, romance, kissing. All PG-13.

Spoilers for the “Grunt Work” Quest

It’s the very first UC Vanguard quest. If you haven’t played it yet, I highly recommend it. Out of my 20-ish hours playing it’s my favorite so far.

No spoilers for the end of game (I haven’t even gotten close to it yet) or anything to do with Sam Coe’s romance questline (I haven’t finished that either).

Non-spoiler summary for this fic/quest:

Reader and Sam Coe go to Tau Ceti II to check up on the settlers in the Tau Gormet Production Center.

More descriptions of the fic with a more specific summary below the cut. I’m being very specific about spoilers because for most people, myself included, we’ve only had the game for a week.

More specific summary of this fic/quest:

The UC Vanguard sends you on a routine mission to check in on a settler colony on Tau Ceti II—it turns out to be anything but routine. With Sam Coe at your side, your first Vanguard mission is a baptism by fire.

Characters: Hadrian, Sam Coe, Vasco (mentions of other characters: Cora Coe and Barret)

“Vasco, do a quick comms check for me. I want to make sure it’s working after it glitched out on the last planet.”

The tall robot makes some beeping and whirring noises. The way it stares into nothing bothered you at first, but after some time you’d gotten used to it—even appreciating how it followed commands without hesitation. Over by the ships on and off-boarding ramp, Sam says goodbye to Cora. A smile spreads across your face as you watch them.

The Frontier’s external lighting illuminates the surrounding landing site. An otherworldly moon hangs in the night sky. You take one more moment to do a last check of your pack’s contents. This was going to be a routine check-in mission, but it never hurt to be safe than sorry.

“Comms are operational, Captain.”

“Thank you.” You wave goodbye to Cora who smiles and waves back before returning to the Frontier. “Comms are good Sam, ready to go?”

Your companion saunters over with that signature ranger’s confidence. “Always.”

“Great. I think I’ve got everything. Vasco, have I got everything?”

“Scanning now.”

Sam shifts from foot to foot. “Storm’s rolling in.” He comments, looking into the distance. “I’d like to get there before it starts raining.”

Sure enough, muted thunder rolls on the horizon and the wind picks up a touch.

“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, cowboy.”

“I don’t even know what a horse looks like.” He mumbles.

Vasco beeps affirmatively. “The necessary items are present, Captain. However, you are carrying more than the recommended amount.”

You sling your pack over your shoulder with a grin, ignoring the second part. “Thanks Vasco. You know, for a second there Sam, I thought you were going to say something about your joints hurting.”

“Ha ha. I’m not that old.”

You make a teasing face at him as you start heading toward the compound’s lights in the distance. The trek isn’t bad, mostly flat terrain with a few rocks here and there. The wind continues to pick up, carrying the scent of rain.

Sam hops over a rock, taking his place by your side. “Not to sound too over-eager to get this Vanguard busy work out of the way, but, where’s our next stop after this?”

“I was thinking we could explore the rest of this system. How’s that sound?”

“You know me, no complaints here.”

A radio tower comes into view, red lights along the sides flashing periodically. Beyond it is the main compound.

“Oh, Cora asked to keep an eye out on books specifically about ship reactors. She thinks she can fix ours.”

You hike your pack higher on your shoulder, already feeling the soreness. Blast your incessant need to carry every type of weapon part with you at all times. “I’ll be on the look-out. If she can save me a few credits and fix it herself, she’s welcome to try.”

“She’s a brilliant kid, but let’s do it on a planet with an actual mechanic who can make sure it works after. I have faith in her, but she’s 11 and you can’t learn everything from books—”

“Hold up. Sam. Stop.”

He freezes, noticing your stock-still posture, eyes fixed on the wide-open doors of the radio tower. Bright light filters out into the night.

“Does that look like a body to you?” you ask him, pointing toward a slumped over shape laying against a supply crate.

“Sure does.”

Unholstering your pistol, you both crouch and move closer. The grass underfoot sways in the wind.

It’s a grisly scene. Multiple bodies litter the area. All settlers—dressed in civilian working clothes. Blood splatters dot the concrete, some trail back to a body. Sam whistles, short and low, to get your attention. He’s looking inside. On the table is a settler, face up, arms splayed out and gutted. Clothes stained a vibrant red. Deep claw marks gouge out sections of the floor.

“No bullets, no casings in sight.” He murmurs close to your ear. “And it’s all fresh.”

You don’t need to look at him to know he shares your particular anxiety. “Let’s check out the main compound.”

Moving out of the small building and down toward the tar mac, you’re about to say something about the wrecked ship when an alien scream interrupts you. It sets every hair on end. Never have you heard a sound like that, even on the many planets you’ve explored.

In little to no time after the scream, a sharp static crackles over your comms, making you jump. Sam shuffles closer, crouched low next to you. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he may have chuckled, but he stays frozen and somber faced.

“I am so glad to see you.” The voice, a woman’s, sounds heavy with relief. “I think it knows you’re here. Hurry up to the second-floor office, I’ll unlock the door.”

As you make your way into the compound, it feels like walking straight into the lion’s den. Every sense is on high alert. Lightning flashes, making you see things in the shadows that aren’t really there. Only Sam’s presence behind you keeps you level-headed.

The brightly lit, glass windowed office only makes you feel worse, like a sitting duck on display.

“I’m Hadrian.” The woman introduces herself curtly while holding her side. “Are you my saving grace?”

“Not exactly. I’m UC Vanguard—sent to check in on the settlers.”

“Well shit.” She leans against the table, eyes closed in pain.

“Please don’t tell me we’re dealing with a Terrormorph here.” Sam asks, beating you to the punch.

She sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Shit. That’s bad news, Captain. Real bad.”

“Listen,” Hadrian starts, moving away from the table, “I know you’re just two people, but you have to help me kill this thing.”

“And why’s that? Why don’t we all just leave now?” You ask.

“It’s unique. It showed up way too early. Tau Ceti’s only been colonized for 20 years. If this is a new kind of Terrormorph that matures faster and shows up earlier, we need to know.”

“Damnit.” You hiss. “Terrormorphs that show up after only 20 years of colonization could wipe humanity off the map.”

“Exactly.”

Rain begins to fall on the large windows with a clatter. The rolls of thunder were becoming booming clashes now. Visibility was already reduced at night, but now the storm made things worse.

You relent, giving up any notions of leaving. “Alright. I’ll help. Got any ideas on how to kill it?”

Sam’s eyeing you particularly hard from where he stands.

“Yeah, turrets. But we need to bring them back online and get them powered up. The terminal’s on ground level at the far end of the warehouse.”

Sam grunts. “So, closer to the Terrormorph?”

“I’m not sure where it is right now. My best guess is it’s still around the outer edge of the facility. But there’s a tracking system you can use on one of the terminals.”

You run a hand over your face. “Ok. Tracker and turrets. That’s better than nothing. I can make do”

“Radio me when you’ve reset the system and I’ll calibrate it from here. Thank you for helping and good luck.”

You and Sam sneak out one of the office doors into the warehouse. Fat raindrops fall on the metal roof, amplifying the sound into a loud drumming. It doesn’t come close to the volume of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Vasco, come in.”

“Reporting, Captain.”

“Initiate full lockdown on the ship. Tell Cora we ran into some trouble and are taking necessary precautions. If she seems worried, give her a book from my locker.”

“Yes Captain.”

You shut off comms and sling your pack from around your shoulders, attempting a commanding tone that you’ve always needed to fake. “Sam Coe.”

His usual raspy, low voice is layered with apprehension. “Captain?”

You’re pulling out weapon pieces from your pack for your rifle. They’re big—heavy duty—and add a decent amount of weight to the gun. “Go back to the ship.”

“I had a hunch you were gonna pull something like this. No. No way.”

“That’s an order—”

“Don’t try that with me. You know it ain’t gonna work.”

You pause, just as you’re changing out the rifle’s .50 Cal magazine with a 9x39mm eight round clip. “Sam.”

“I’m staying.”

His eyebrows are furrowed. Mouth slanted in a stubborn, almost angry frown. You’d have to dig deep. “Cora can’t lose you.”

“You always pull that card. It’s lost its affect.”

“…I can’t lose you either.”

You’ve never used that before and quite frankly are surprised to hear it come out of your mouth. Maybe it’s too soon. Up until now, you and Sam have only been flirting—no real feelings or moves have been made. It’s a bit of a jump, but you’re sincere.

His eyes hold yours unflinchingly. The crease on his forehead lessens a little. “Then you know how I feel and why I’m staying right here.”

He’s one-upped you and you weren’t prepared for it. You murmur a “Damit Sam” and go back to modifying your rifle. Fighting is pointless, and his admission has your nerves shaken more than you’d like. “Stay glued to my side unless I say otherwise. If things turn sideways and I order you back to the ship, you’d better listen. Got it?”

“Understood, Captain.”

“I mean it.”

A hint of his familiar smile returns. “I heard ya.”

“And Sam…”

“Hm?”

“No heroics.”

He doesn’t respond, his brows pinch together again. It’ll have to do.

Moving through the warehouse went excruciatingly slow. At all times you wished you could just get up and run instead, but it would signal the monster almost immediately. The whole situation made you feel like you were prey, scared and small. The addition of Sam’s presence put a heavy responsibility on your shoulders and that made you even more careful.

Hadrian was on your comms as soon as the system was reset. She directed you to the tracker frequency tuner in the same room. While finding the frequency, the system went into high alert—detecting the major threat. Your watch begins beeping steadily, and then rapidly speeds up. The Terrormorph was getting closer to your position.

Your eyes met Sam’s just as the alien appeared on the roof of the building outside. Right in sight from the room’s windows you were in. A rough hand yanks you down to the ground. Sam is crouched damn near on top of you, shotgun aimed up at it. However, it doesn’t notice you two in the dark room. You slowly cover the watch face to try and muffle the beeping sound. Maybe it was the rain, or the creature was just playing games, but it moved on past to a different part of the facility. Loud footsteps fading as it leaves. The radar lessens to a low, steady beat.

“Hadrian, come in.”

“I read you. The turrets are going to need their power sources reset with the security system in lockdown.”

“Great.” Sam sighs, lowering his gun. His shoulder leans into yours as he gets closer.

“We’ll find them. Out here.”

Reaching for your rifle, your hands visibly shook. You can feel Sam’s watchful gaze.

“Last chance to leave.” You whisper, aimlessly checking over your gun. You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder reaffirming.

“Not happening.”

The first power source wasn’t hard to find. You took the slow route, keeping an ear out for any changes in the radar frequency. The power switch was like a beacon, a big red switch on a yellow panel—it stuck out like a sore thumb. When you flipped it lights came on, loudspeakers announced to stand back…and the radar went nuts.

“Out, out, out!” You hiss, pushing Sam toward the far end door. He doesn’t need to be told twice as he beelines it.

With Sam leading, you follow him, scrambling up onto the roof of the building near the turrets. Two of the six are online now. Two more switches and you’ll have a fighting chance. Maybe.

Behind you, further in the facility, things crash. For now, it seems you’re safe.

You huff, lightening the death grip you have on your rifle. “Ok, here’s the plan. We’re going to split up.”

“I’m not gonna like this am I?”

“Take the watch. Find the power sources. I’ll create a distraction.”

“No.”

“Sam…” you exhale, closing your eyes. Despite the sheer terror you feel, you manage a chuckle. “We’re not going to get anything done if you keep arguing with me.”

“Let me create the distraction.”

“No.”

“Now who’s arguing?”

“Your shotgun has no range—it’s effectively useless, you’d be dead in two seconds.”

“Fair point. Then give me your rifle, I’m a good shot.”

You’re already unclasping your watch’s band from around your wrist. “I’m not taking the risk.”

“What if I wanna take the risk?”

Shuffling over while still crouched, you bring his arm closer. The watch slides on and you make sure to fasten it tightly. “You already know I won’t let you. At least now you can radio Vasco if…”

It didn’t need to be said.

He looks at the device and back to you. “Why is this startin’ to feel like you’re on a suicide mission?”

You can’t look at him or you’d lose the last of your nerve. “I’ll be on that walkway over there. It’ll have to run through the turrets to get to me and they’ll still have a shot when it tries to climb up.”

The way Sam chews his cheek really underlines how unhappy he is with this plan of yours. “Remind me to have a word with you about your savior complex when this is all over.”

“Hm. I’m looking forward to it.”

A gentle hand wraps around your arm. His eyes are soft, pleading. His other hand cups your face, it’s rough and calloused, but warm. “If you need to run, then run. You don’t have to die for some Vanguard that sends you on a ‘routine’ mission they were too lazy to check first—or for a colony full of dead settlers. Ok? I want you back, with me, alive, and in one piece.”

You don’t trust yourself enough to speak, something sappy or cheesy may decide to come out, so you simply nod.

It isn’t enough for him. “Please, say you’ll come back to me. I need to hear you say it.”

If he wasn’t so close, he may not have heard you through the pounding rain. “I’ll come back to you.” You pretended that you meant it, that you believed it.

“Thank you.” His hand falls away to hold his shotgun. “Now let’s kill this thing.”

“Be safe.” You manage before turning and heading toward your position. The chill of the rain creeps through your spine, but the warmth from Sam’s hand lingers on your cheek. You try to hold onto that feeling.

The steel walkway is sturdy and grated, giving you a good vantage point of the surrounding area. Once in position, you set up your rifle and lay flat, adjusting the scope. Lightning flashes, the crash of thunder isn’t far behind it. Water runs down your face and you wipe it hastily to keep it from your eyes.

The bright fire of the flare casts everything in red. With a good toss, it lands directly in the middle of the kill lanes. Bringing out your pistol you shoot once, twice, up into the air. The alien screams and the sound of wrenching, tearing metal draws near.

The hulking creature appears at the far end of the kill lanes, focused on the flare. It’s huge, big enough to fill your scope’s sights. You breathe deep and exhale slowly as you take your first shot.

The round hits the Terrormorph square in the back leg, crippling it for a moment. Blood leaks out onto the ground below. It lurches before regaining balance on its five other legs, letting out an enraged roar.

More lights come on in the facility. Sam’s already found one power breaker. Two more turrets begin to flash and come online.

The monster’s head swings in a different direction. Toward Sam, no doubt. The realization fuels you with a cold fury. You crank the rifle’s bolt-lever, a long bullet casing flies out of the chamber with a cling. Sliding the lever back with a heavy clunk you even your breath and prepare to take another shot.

You take it, aiming for its other back leg, but miss—the shot glances off the ground. Six shots left.

The thing’s giant head swings back to stare at you directly. Through your scope it’s as if you’re staring it directly in the eyes. Its front legs stomp the ground, and it roars. It ambles forward right into the kill lanes. Four turrets open fire, knocking it off balance and sending it sprawling momentarily. You take another shot, this time severing its thinner front limb.

The thing howls, ear splittingly loud and shrill, but claws its way back onto its feet. The turrets are doing damage, but it isn’t enough. It lurches toward you with surprising speed. The turret fire follows. You take a shot and miss. You exhale and your breath comes out shaking.

It's at the base of the building your walkway is on as Sam flips the final switch and the last of the turrets power up. The Terrormorph slows down a little, struggling to climb the building with two of its limbs missing. You have another 130 seconds, maybe, before it reaches you.

Your fifth shot hits it in the back, effectively doing nothing. The thing is bloody and losing steam from the constant onslaught of all six turrets. You start to feel hopeful. There’s movement to your left. It’s Sam on one of the rooftops. You’re about to give him a thumbs up when lightning flashes—some of the facility machines spark, an alarm sounds, and all lights except for auxiliary backups flatline. An unlucky power surge from the storm.

The Terrormorph has reached the base of the walkway below and is trying to make its way up, now free from turret fire. This would be your chance to run, but something holds you there. A false hope maybe.

You hold your breath, take a shot, and hit it square in the face. It doesn’t stop, clawing at the thin metal for purchase. Pulling the bolt lever and sliding it home, you fire again, chipping its other back leg and causing it to stumble. Metal rails groan and collapse under the monster’s weight. It falls to the ground with a metallic crash. You don’t fire, yet.

Sam is still on the other roof. You wave him off, pointing to the ship. Trying to make it clear that this was the order to run. A clashing sound below snags your attention back to the monster. It’s testing out the strength of the rail supports.

You’re aiming again as it springs up and begins throwing its weight at the steel rods. The vibration of the metal groaning and shifting with each impact reverberates through you. This is your last shot.

You fire and miss entirely as a section of rails to your right collapse and bend, tugging your section down. You’re forced to let go of your rifle to hang on. It clatters to the ground below.

More support beams collapse and you can feel the structure groan before you even hear it, vibrating hard enough to numb your hands. Trying to climb up the tilting walkway was a mistake as the shift in weight caused the whole thing, with you attached, to fall entirely. The feeling of falling was short-lived, something sharp sliced at your leg as you fell into the railing and walkway debris below.

For a moment, you lay dazed and in pain. The sound of rain patters around you on metallic surfaces. The whole walkway and railing fell over, the area was littered with jutted angles and metal parts. Something shifted under the debris. Something big enough to toss heavy metal away with ease. Any hope of the Terrormorph getting crushed by the impact was gone as it reared back and screamed. Its eyes, all six or seven of them, landed on you.

There was no way of escaping, debris had fallen over you. A particularly large beam held you in place on your back. Your pistol, the last line of defense, dug into your hip uncomfortably.

Sensing it had you trapped, the creature took its time closing the distance. Your leg was devoid of all feeling except a vague sensation of warmth spreading around it. The rails on top of you pinned you down, but you managed to free your measly pistol.

Only three or four of your shots made contact, others glanced off the Terrormorph’s armored shoulders or missed entirely. Either way, the low caliber did nothing to it. With an empty mag, and nothing else to defend yourself with, your arm fell to your side. You just hoped Sam was smart enough to listen and go back to the ship.

A loud blast caught the monster on the side of its head, snapping it away from you, and causing it to stumble.

Apparently, he wasn’t.

Sam emptied three more shells into the creature before reloading with cool, practiced ease. One blast dislocated the Terrormorph’s other back leg. Chunks went flying.

It howled and thrashed as he kept unloading shells into it. When he was completely out, he dropped the shotgun and picked up a long rod of metal with a jagged, broken end. The sharp tip sliced clean into its ribcage. When the alien still tried to pull itself up on its remaining two feet, Sam pulled it out with a yank and drove it home into the thing’s head, right above the mandibles. It gave one final spasm and finally fell dead.

At last, the only sound around you was the rain.

Sam dropped the crude spear with a clatter, eyeing the body a few times as he rushed over through the debris.

“You ok?” he panted, kneeling down. His hands cupped your face, bringing the familiar warmth with them.

“Holy shit.” Was all you were able to say.

It made him laugh with relief as he moved to check you over. “And you said a shotgun wouldn’t do anything.”

His hands moved debris from your legs, and he hovered as you yelped in pain. “You’ve got a nasty gash here. We need to get you back to the ship for medical attention. Let me see if I can get this off you.”

With a grunt of effort, he pushed the beam up enough for you to pull yourself out. Your leg was bleeding badly, but nothing you couldn’t fix with some TLC and bed rest. The pain hadn’t set in yet, thankfully.

Near you was a chunk of the Terrormorph’s leg. Feeling oddly disconnected from yourself, you grabbed it, staring at the gross thing, and put it in your pocket for Hadrian.

Sam started taking out bandages and doing what he could to wrap your leg. You could see his hands were shaking now.

Against all odds you both were alive; you started to laugh.

Sam gave you an odd look. “Don’t go loopy on me.”

A giant smile broke across your face. “Wasn’t expecting to live. There goes my chance at a cool memorial or bragging rights.”

“Going face to face with a Terrormorph and only losing a chunk of your leg gets bragging rights. Believe me.”

“Nah. All the credit goes to you on this one. That was just badass.”

He grunted, throwing more debris out of the way, and trying to clear a path. “Wasn’t thinking about how cool it looked when I did it. I was just trying to save you.”

“You know I’ll be telling this story forever, right?”

He chuckles, helping you up, slinging your arm over his shoulder and wrapping his around your waist. “I can see Barret’s expression now.”

“‘Sam Coe, my hero’ is how I’ll start it.”

He groans playfully. “Please don’t.”

“It’s true.” You looked at him as your feet touched even ground. Your faces were close. You could see the rain drops clinging to his hair and beard. “You saved my life.”

When he looked over, his nose nudged yours from close proximity. He didn’t shy away from the contact. Your paces slowed to a stop. “I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, either.”

Your grin was slow to spread as you glanced at his lips more than once. “Would you prefer a quippy one line as thanks?”

“Mm—no. Maybe something else though.”

You feigned ignorance as his eyes trailed down your face. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“I’ll let you think of it.”

“A hero’s song?” you joked, voice softening.

“Nope.”

“How about a poem?”

He faces toward the room Hadrian’s in with a low laugh and begins to walk again. “You know, if you were as much of a smartass to that Terrormorph as you are to me, it would have keeled over on the spot.”

You put your good foot down and hold it, halting any forward progress. “Ok, ok. I think I’ve come up with something.”

He’s still smiling as he looks at you. Your noses nudge again. “If you suggest a book or a short story—”

His surprised breath as your mouth presses to his is an award in itself. He stays motionless for a moment, as if his brain had short-circuited, before his lips move and mold to yours. Slow and tentative at first, exploratory. Soft and gentle as if he’s afraid of hurting you. His hand on your waist moves to your lower back, gripping your clothes. He leans into you, beard scratching the skin of your face. Your fingers slide through and tangle in his wet hair. It makes him pant into your mouth before kissing you again, more eager this time.

Breaking apart, you both linger close, hot breath mixing together. His forehead leans to yours, eyes still closed.

That raspy voice of his you love so much is the first to break the silence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.”

“You could have made the first move. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Was never sure if you were just being quippy and flirtatious for fun or not.”

“It is fun, but it’s also because I care for you.”

He hums, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Good to know, we’re going to have to find time for this more often.”

You close the distance enough to ghost your lips over his. “We have time now.”

He hesitates, so tempted with the offer, but exhales instead. “You’re hurt and bleeding all over the place, I need to get you some medical help. Plus, Hadrian needs her damn samples.”

“Pshh. I’ve got plenty of blood left—and she can be patient.”

He starts walking again, bringing you with him, and pressing the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt against the corner of your mouth. “Just wait until you’re healed. You won’t be able to keep me away.”

#Sam Coe x Reader #Sam Coe #starfield #gn reader

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cringefaecompilation · 25 days

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i hate the "dorian is going to join ludinus to spite the gods for taking away his friends" concept so much. i could just reblog that one post that says "people criticizing the gods does not mean they support the vanguard" and call it a day but this is part of a worrying trend of villainizing the cast members of color who don't support the gods wholly. even within the hells not everyone is devout.

ashton? literally said they refuse to worship the gods, period. that if they want his help they can ask him themselves. imogen? her guilty conscience towards the concept of killing her mother and her own sorrow at being neglected by the gods makes her also uncertain if she trusts them fully. laudna? is seen as inherently evil by every paladin in a five-mile radius because she’s undead. and if predathos takes a big munch out of vecna’s face, delilah’ll shit herself and die and free her from her grasp permanently.

and yet they all desire ludinus’ head on a stake and do not trust the vanguard nor believe what they are doing is right.

do i think orym and dorian are going to butt heads over their viewpoints on the gods? naturally! it’d be weird if they didn’t! but i just cannot see a universe in which dorian storm would backstab the surviving people he cares about over spite. he’s angry, he’s hurting, but he’s not going to trust a genocider. neither would deanna or FRIDA despite their compunctions and questionings.

honesty, the person i’m scared of getting corrupted by the vanguard is dariax. cults specifically go after people that feel isolated or lost, and dariax just got abandoned by all of his friends after a god pushed them apart. poor guy is a perfect pawn if ludinus ever stumbled across him.

#🍃#critical role #critrole #cr spoilers #dorian storm #harsh but i'm kinda in a bad mood after seeing an unironic take of Ashton Did Nothing Wrong And Fearne Is A Mean Bitch #about you guessed it ep 78

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gorgynei · 1 year

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The Somnovem and Predathos Theory

Can we talk about Predathos and the Somnovem? I've been dying to talk about Predathos and the Somnovem. There's something here, I smell it.

Theory under the cut, its a doozy.

First of all, "Factorum Malleus" (translates to Creator Hammer) and "Malleus Keys" (translates to Hammer Keys). Aeor and Predathos have a concrete, canonical connection. Ludinus went deep into the Genesis Ward, found the Factorum Malleus project, and developed it further into the Keys to release Predathos. It's unclear whether Aeor also wanted to release Predathos, or if they were just trying to use part of its power to create god-killing weapons, but regardless, Aeor knew about Predathos. Thats a big deal and it explains why the entire pantheon held a ceasefire during the Calamity to completely wipe them out.

Knowing that Aeor has a connection to Predathos makes their fanatical Cognouza ward more suspicious. It's possible that the Somnovem were actually worshiping/serving Predathos but all record of it's existence was wiped with Aeor's falling, so we never knew.

When the Nein first learned about Cognouza, it was due to a psychic wave put out by Vokodo in his final moments, flashing them all into Vokodo's memories. This is similar to the flash that Imogen put out when she gave into Ruidus's power in e33-e34, even down to Bell's Hells being forced into their own memories. While not concrete, the shared usage of emotion-driven psychic waves and memories is notable.

The Somnovem believed in the power of the mortal mind and imagination. In other words, they believed that a brain could manifest psychic power, and they were right: Imogen Temult is living proof of that. They share in the ideas of the power of the mind, even down to the Somnovem communicating telepathically and in dreams.

The Somnovem, or at least members of it, also share many sentiments with the Ruby Vanguard. The Ruby Vanguard wants to release Predathos in order to destroy the pantheon, release mortals from fate, and embrace freedom in that. Ira, upon meeting the Nein, says "Creation is born from destruction, and if all that is worthy of us is destroyed, then so much more can be created or forgotten. All the Gods and the fates that threw us to torment and death, they all will pay" (c2e137) which mirrors that idea extremely closely. Timorei says "You know the terror of the end, mortal ones. The nothing, the acceptance of fate or even oblivion. We-- we cannot end. No, at all costs, oblivion must be destroyed" (c2e137), once again bringing up the idea of disrupting fate and the natural order of things. It's possible that what was originally interpreted as the Somnovem being split on whether to bring Cognouza into the world could have actually been a much larger debate on whether to bring Predathos into the world and destroy pantheon, at least in part.

When Cognouza was transported into the astral sea, it was harassed by a "terrible psychic storm" that drove them mad. Psychic storms haunt all of campaign 3. There's the red storms on the surface of Ruidus and Imogen's dreams, both intimately connected to Predathos and to the power of the mind. Cognouza could have targeted by a powerful psychic wave directly from Predathos, which would explain the strange mind-melded state they end up in and the madness that permeates the entire city and anyone who gets too close.

Additionally, Ruidus flared in 836 PD. Cognouza was also destroyed in 836 PD. It's impossible to know if these are completely connected or pure coincidence, but if Cognouza was a long-running Predathos plot, it's destruction would likely warrant an outburst from the moon.

While delving in Aeor, Lucien discovers a mural depicting "a ring of nine red ovals, with a dazzling starburst in the middle, and that decorated with a single open eye. Enlightenment" (from the Nine eyes of Lucien). Every other symbol of the Somnovem has been just nine red eyes. This "starburst" in the middle could be a subtle nod to Predathos, especially with the way it seems the nine ovals are inferior to this one, greater eye. Lucien seems to believe this represents enlightenment, and he's probably correct. The Aeorians are famously non-religious, so fanatical devotion to a god-killer and it's ideals may have still only looked like extreme belief in a particular school of thought, rather than worship to a particular entity.

There's the obvious too: the nine eyes being red. Red can mean a lot of things. There are plenty of red things in Critical Role that are totally unrelated to Predathos and Ruidus. But when red is the primary colour and representation of unchecked alien energy, and a strange fanatical city with possible connection to that energy is also red? It stops being so chance. Not a big thing on its own, but worth mentioning.

When Cognouza was destroyed, Kingsley felt the "strange black chains that invisibly wove through that city" break and heard an "angry, unknowable, primal, ancient cry". It's widely assumed that this is Tharizdun due to the chain-imagery and general madness that the city is connected to, and I do think that's likely, but if Tharizdun is actually somehow connected to Predathos (both of them are alien beings that got locked away, after all), it could be both of them.

*gestures wildly at all of this* do you see?? do you SEE???? There's something. There's something here.

#btw if you're curious about how i know that malleus keys translates to hammer keys: malleus is a small bone in your ear that's also #known as the hammer (bc its shaped like a hammer) and factotum is a word meaning ''someone who does everything'' so #factorum -> creator and malleus -> hammer #cr spoilers #critical role #cr speculation #cr theory #critical role theory #predathos #somnovem #cognouza #aeor #mighty nein #bells hells #bell's hells

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choueiyuusubs · 1 year

Video

Vanguard Fight - Psychic Lover Brave the Storm (2014)

#cardfight!! vanguard #psychic lover #anime #brave the storm #opening theme

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greybrickwallpaper · 29 days

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BELLS HELLS SPOILERS!!! MIGHTY NEIN SPOILERS WARNING!!!

Ok so I’m feeling a lot of feelings about the reaction of bells hells to FCG’s sacrifice and the way that one reaction stood out the most and that’s Orym’s. Don’t get me wrong I like orym and his story and I understand there is a serious level of trauma associated for him to be anywhere near members of the vanguard but he does seem to be the only one so blinded by his own selfishness that he can’t seem to help the hells progress.

Just as the hells were about to get some information from lillianna about ludinus and were about to convince her to come with, orym nearly wrecked it all with his inability to keep himself out of the centre of the argument. All of bells hells has suffered in one way or another relating to ludinus or the gods but orym is the only one who is consistent in his selfishness. Take laudna for example every time the hells go back to Whitestone she knows what kind of mental toll it has on her and she’s never quite sure if it won’t be the time Delilah takes over but she never outright says no I’m not doing this because she understands the impact what is happening has on the rest of exandria. She is selfless where orym is selfish. Then there is Imogen who may finally get some answers from her mother that she has waited for essentially her whole life and when orym almost ruins it her first response is to find and comfort him and reassure him that she would give up the potential relationship with her mother.

Even Ashton who has had his moments can see that even though they are all traumatised there is something bigger at play in that they need all the information they can get. Seriously though what do the hells owe to the gods, not a right lot.

It also reminds me of Yasha’s story in the M9 and her desire to find Zuala’s grave. The M9 told Yasha on several occasions that they would go with her to Xhorhas and help her take revenge over the Dolorov for Zuala’s death but every time Yasha insists that while she would love to do that it’s not worth it the bloodshed is not worth it. Her whole story with the storm lord helps her come to terms with the fact that her guilt can be channelled in to the protection of the M9 so that is what she does. Yasha never tries to make the M9 fold to her trauma she works on it with them by her side.

Orym and yasha’s grief are almost the same, the lost their partners and their family in one terrible situation and while the situations differ the outcome is essentially the same leaving them both wracked with guilt and shame at not being able to do more.

Like I said I love the hells and their story how broken people can work together I just was struck by the way these two characters portray the grief so differently and the way that the hells would bend earth for orym and he would let them and like wise the Nein for Yasha but she never would.

#orym of the air ashari #yasha nydoorin #bells hells #the mighty nein #cr spoilers #episode 91 and 92 c3 spoilers #imogen temult #laudna

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son1c · 1 year

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listen to your heart

falling stars fic masterpost

Thunder, but not from a storm. Sonic could hear it pulse in his ears, and he realized it was his heart, pounding on his rib cage like a boxer pounding on a punching bag. He was standing up, though he couldn't remember when he'd left the couch. It was at his back now, and Sonic was facing the TV, staring at his reflection in the blank black screen.

What he saw there brought his hammering heart to a standstill.

It was himself. But it was wrong. His fur was too pale, the color faded like a years-old photograph. And his eyes… They stared back at him, their gaze piercing and far too bright.

They really were glowing, like Stripes had said.

Sonic raised a hand to his face, and the stranger in the TV screen copied him.

He thought about his nightmare. But, no, that wasn't right. There was no way it was a nightmare. The thing reeked in a way that only something real could. It must've been a memory--a rotten, no good memory of something that had happened to him during his time at Scrap Brain. But why was he remembering it now? And how had he forgotten it in the first place?

Sonic recalled the enraged face of the red echidna, Knuckles. That was the last thing he'd seen before… waking up on a table back at Scrap Brain. His body was in pieces, his screen crowded with one hundred emergency alerts.

Eggman was looming over him. He wanted to know what had happened on Angel Island, and Sonic, unable to lie while giving his report, told him the truth. And when he was done, he asked Eggman one question: Who am I?

The images he'd been shown by the Master Emerald refused to leave his addled mind. He was fixated on them, because they didn't make any sense. His code was telling him that he'd always been this way, that he'd never been anything but a robot, a vanguard of the Eggman Empire. But his heart said something different, and it was compelling enough to make him doubt everything.

Eggman said he understood. He said he would help. Then, he placed a hand on Sonic's head and told the Robian not to worry, because he would remember who he was shortly, after a factory reset.

In the present, Sonic shuddered. He realized he'd forgotten about Knuckles and his trip to Angel Island because Eggman had made him forget. The realization tasted like ten jugs of curdled milk smashed together, sour and disgusting.

And it made him furious, too.

Furious to think that Eggman used to have so much control over him.

Sonic was once again faced with his reflection in the TV screen. With those eyes that stared back at him with a sickly green intensity. One thing was for sure: they were different now from how they'd been before. They weren't the eyes of a Robian, but weren't the eyes of his old self, either.

Sonic looked away from the TV, but his glowing eyes were seared into his brain, and their afterimage followed him around the room, their impressions burning holes into the back of the door when he turned toward it.

He felt the need to run. It would help clear his mind, or so he hoped. The questions that haunted him now--What have you become? Is your body your own? Are you really free?--were too much for him to bear.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to look at himself, to see how much he'd been changed.

Stay cool. That was what he wanted to do. Yeah, he would take this in stride, like he'd done with his broken leg. And he would remain above it--above his pain. Like he'd been after losing his memory (the first time). After being hunted by soldiers, and tricked by Mr. Ivo, and--

Sonic balled his hands into fists, and couldn't help but think his fingers felt stiff. It was the sort of stiffness that he wouldn’t be able to wring out, because it had settled deep beneath his flesh and into his bones. The temperature of his palms was equally disconcerting; the coldness should’ve meant he was dead, his paws seeming more like bits of the Antarctic than a hedgehog Mobian, even though it was warm inside the casino.

He felt like shivering. Instead, he set his jaw.

Stepping toward the door, Sonic got as far as the welcome mat before he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

"It's the middle of the night," Shadow said. "Where are you going at this hour?"

Buggy hugged Shadow's leg, looking up at Sonic with its wide, unblinking eyes.

Sonic shrugged, though he wished he wasn’t having this conversation right now. “Can’t say I had someplace in mind,” he said truthfully. “Maybe the Ferris wheel? Doesn’t matter, so long as I get there fast!”

Shadow crossed his arms and glanced at the clock. It was 4-something AM. “The city will wait for you,” Shadow said. “It’s not going anywhere. Just like you should be—don’t sacrifice your sleep for a whim, Blue.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Sonic said as he pulled open the door. “Let’s both go. That way, we can have a little friendly competition. Our last race was stacked in your favor, but this time, I’ll beat you!”

Shadow was incredulous. He could’ve said a lot about Sonic’s lack of care for his own sleep schedule, but what he said instead was, “Beat me? You must be joking. I’ve seen your speed once before, and I can outdo it.”

Buggy rubbed its claws together nervously. Suddenly, there was a current of tension running through the room, and it was felt by even the robot.

Sonic held the door open for Shadow and stepped to the side, gesturing at the hallway with one hand. “I’m a good sport,” Sonic said with a grin, “so I’ll let you have a head start.”

Through the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door to the first floor of the casino. The two hedgehogs blew past Rouge, who was just finishing turning off the lights at the bar, and she spun around like a dreidel from their combined speed. She tried to shout after them, but whatever she said was swallowed up by the sound of the front doors slamming shut.

The bottoms of Shadow's shoes were lit up. Earlier in the night, he'd attached the rings Rouge had given him to his soles, and now he was using their power to skate Heelys-style through the streets of Night Babylon. The pavement was still wet from the rain, but that was it. There were no floodwaters to wade through, only slick corners to turn as the two hedgehogs raced toward the Ferris wheel.

Streetlamps illuminated the empty roads. Parked cars sometimes stood in Sonic and Shadow's way, but they vaulted over them expertly, using the hoods of the vehicles as springboards. They touched down on the other side and kept moving, always neck-and-neck.

Until Sonic suddenly pulled ahead. After spinning around, Sonic taunted Shadow while running backwards. "Not so easy now that we're on equal footing, huh, Stripes?"

Shadow gritted his teeth. After being woken up by Sonic's motobug friend, thinking something was wrong, he couldn't help but be annoyed by the Blue Blur's cocky attitude. But then he saw it--Sonic's carefree grin. And the way his shoulders were relaxed, his hands folded behind his head in a way that reveled in the motion, cherishing the wind at his back.

After all that time spent with a broken leg, was it really a surprise that Sonic was enjoying himself right now?

Shadow smiled. He wasn't annoyed anymore. In fact, he was happy for Sonic.

"You've been looking forward to this moment, haven't you, hedgehog?" Shadow asked.

Sonic blinked. His grin faltered. He stared at Shadow's expression, at the kind smile his friend wore, so slight that it might've been just a trick of the light, but it wasn't. It was real. And it shocked him--for just a moment, before Sonic recovered and his heart soared, a warm feeling taking hold of his chest, so much nicer than those frigid feelings from earlier.

"Yeah," Sonic said, laughing a little, "I have!"

And then Sonic, still running backwards, slipped on a particularly wet patch of pavement, and tumbled into a bush on the other side of the street.

Shadow's eyes widened. He skidded to a stop in front of the bush.

Laying on his back in the twigs and flowers, Sonic rubbed his forehead. The yellow light from the streetlamp made him squint, but he wasn't hurt, just embarrassed. So much for winning the race! he thought with a sigh.

Then, Sonic saw Shadow extend a hand to him, and the blue hedgehog couldn't help but think that maybe winning didn't matter so much.

Taking Shadow's hand, Sonic said as he pulled himself up, "Haha! What a wipeout!"

Just like that, Sonic's good mood had returned, and now all he wanted to do was bask in the feeling, the warmth of Shadow's touch matching that of his own fluttering heart.

"I gotta give it to you, man," Sonic said. "You've got me beat two-to-none!"

"The rain was an unexpected ally," Shadow admitted, his smile a little wider now, "but who am I to deny my own victory?"

Sonic rolled his eyes, but his grin remained intact. "Oh, sure," he said, "rub it in. Better to live it up while you can, right? Cuz pretty soon, I'll stomp ya! Just gotta, uh… keep my eyes on the road next time. Heh."

"If nothing else," Shadow replied, "it will make for a more dignified defeat."

Then, Shadow's eyes fell to his hand--the one that Sonic was still holding. Even though they were both standing now, and there was no need for it anymore.

Sonic followed Shadow’s gaze, saw what he was looking at, and realized he should probably let go. Somehow, the thought hadn’t occurred to him until now. But he hesitated.

Sonic wasn't sure when it had happened exactly, but at some point during their adventures together, he'd become so comfortable around Shadow that it made him not want to let go of his friend's hand.

So, Sonic listened to his heart, and he laced their fingers together.

“Not bad, huh?” Sonic asked.

At first, Shadow had no reply. From his toes to his teeth, he stood, his posture as rigid as a brick wall. The sudden display of affection from Sonic confused him, and the blue hedgehog's question pierced his brain like a bullet. It brought with it a gnarled tree of feelings, feelings he scarcely recognized, and because of this, Shadow was left feeling vulnerable, and he hated that.

But there was one thing that Shadow did recognize: his friend, Sonic.

Haloed by the streetlamp, Sonic looked so confident, so content. Like holding Shadow's hand was everything he was meant to be doing in that moment, and Shadow envied him. The dark hedgehog once again found himself longing for some of Sonic's confidence.

His own sense of self was still so shaky, still second to that of his Android copy, and when Shadow focused on it for too long, it made the ground itself seem to rumble and crack beneath his feet.

And then there was Sonic. Always there to catch him when he started to fall.

Shadow curled his fingers around Sonic's hand. Finally, he relaxed. He felt steady now, here in the middle of the empty street, surrounded by parked cars and sky scrapers and a glowing Ferris wheel. Not even the blossoming emotions hanging from the branches of his heart seemed so scary anymore.

"Yes," Shadow answered softly.

Sonic beamed. Then, he pulled on Shadow's hand, and the two of them ran up the side of the Ferris wheel together.

From the top, Sonic and Shadow could see all of Night Babylon. Palm trees swayed gently in the breeze while hotels stood still, their windows mostly dark. Even this late at night, the casinos remained the center of the action, with people going in and out in a steady stream. Laughter floated up from the streets as people twirled and danced through the city.

With a clear, star-speckled sky, Night Babylon shined, so much richer than it had been on the day of the storm. Sonic and Shadow looked down at it while keeping pace with the Ferris wheel as it continued to spin. Their worries were temporarily forgotten as they watched the purple night change into a pink dawn, the sun poking over the horizon, the moments pressing onward, all while holding onto each other's hand.

#falling stars au #the horrors :)#happy pride month (almost) lol

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zer0wlet · 3 months

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I've been thinking so much about my virus au but I just can't seem to put the ideas into art... So I guess I'll put a few bullet points down so I don't forget:

! This might be messy and a bit scrambled !

• There are several factions opposing the Royal Vanguard, 2 of which are based near Ponyville

• The Horizon, a shelter for infected ponies who have been banned from the castle, formerly led by Fluttershy and now taken over by Discord.

• Derpy/Ditzy is a Horizon member who joined after her daughter caught the virus. She acts as a courier between the shelter and the few survivor camps who have not yet joined the Vanguard.

• The second faction (name pending) is a group of organized gangs who take out late stage infected through use of magic and makeshift weaponry. They are the Vanguard's closest competitors for resources in Ponyville.

• Rainbow Dash leads a group of four. She views her actions as mercy killings, since she saw how Applejack suffered during her last days.

• Pinkie Pie has left Ponyville to travel back to her family farm. No one has heard from her in weeks.

• Alicorns are not affected by the virus. Neither are other non-pony species.

• So far, research has determined that the virus is magical in nature, yet it has no link to other known magical diseases. Twilight suspects foul play. Someone is trying to take out ponykind.

• The unpredictable Everfree climate has begun to take over in the weather pegasi's absence. Storms and fog are more frequent. Everfree creatures are starting to explore beyond the forest boundaries. (Not me leaving an opening to worm my unrelated villain oc into the story, lol)

#zero talks #bubblegum virus au #mlp infection au #mlp fim

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fatehbaz · 2 years

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The perfect storm had been building for some time. Ferguson is at the bottom of the income spectrum and has acted as a sort of vanguard for the outward march of suburban poverty. [...] [T]he dwindling population, fleeing industry, and plummeting property values had created a budgetary crisis, forcing many of the area’s small municipalities to rely less on their shrinking tax base and more on extra-tax fees and fines, enforced by the police and facilitated by the city’s arcane court system.

The result was that Ferguson and similar suburbs existed in what the Huffington Post called “a totalizing police regime beyond any of Kafka’s ghastliest nightmares.” Out of a population of roughly 21,000, over 16,000 Ferguson residents had arrest warrants issued. And this number only counts individuals with warrants, not the total number of warrants. In 2013 this figure was a staggering 35,975, roughly 1.5 warrants per person in the city.

These warrants were part of a complex racket designed to impose unrelenting fines on the poor population in order to fund the city government, which itself had largely been redesigned to facilitate this predatory practice.

In 2013 fines, court fees, and other such extortions accounted for some 20 percent of the city’s budget. These fines were disproportionately applied to the city’s black residents, with black drivers twice as likely to be stopped, searched, and arrested as their white counterparts. [...]

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These funding systems are not unique to St Louis, but instead became a national trend as more and more municipalities found themselves in dire conditions after the last crisis. The suburbanization of poverty and skyrocketing incarceration rates have thus been paired with growth in these massive, extra-tax extortions applied to the poor -- and particularly the suburban and rural poor, who are more likely to live in small, cash-strapped municipalities (or counties) with a dwindling tax base and less access to federal aid. In most places, this takes the form of an expanding net of legal search, supervision, and harassment that essentially extends the walls of the prison out into the new suburban ghetto.

Increasingly expensive incarceration is gradually replaced by a predatory probation system composed of extra-carceral monitoring, fines, and seizure of property, all amplified by the fusion of public budgets and for-profit probation companies.

Many of these are relatively recent trends, with Ferguson’s dependence on probation funding skyrocketing after 2010. But rather than an unfortunate exception, Ferguson is a window into the future. As low growth, deepening crisis, and general austerity continue [...] [t]hese cities will be forced to find new sources of funding, and the easiest way to do this is for better-off residents to utilize existing legal resources in order to prey on the poor.

As the economic situation becomes increasingly dire, similar patterns emerge at greater scales: the county, the state, and the federal government will all turn to such predatory practices, facilitated by growing armies of police and preexisting legal mechanisms for debt collection, surveillance, and incarceration.

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These patterns are piloted in the poorest areas, applied first to the most disadvantaged social groups. In Anaheim, California, the poorer, predominantly Latino neighborhoods in the city have seen a series of gang injunctions, allowing plainclothes police to arrest and open fire on residents for things as simple as their clothing color or gathering in a crowd. In 2012 a sequence of police shootings in the city led to nights of rioting just outside D!sneyl@nd. In the poorer parts of New York, stop and frisk policies and the enforcement of laws against minor offences (such as selling loose cigarettes) have allowed for similar practices, resulting in local riots around the killing of Kimani Gray in Flatbush in 2013 and national riots around the killing of Eric Garner in 2014. Similar practices have long been applied to the rural poor, including the black residents of regions such as the Mississippi River Delta, Native residents of reservations such as Pine Ridge, Latino farmworkers across the country, and the white poor in places like the coal-mining towns of Appalachia.

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Text by: Phil Neel. Hinterland: America’s New Landscape of Class and Conflict. 2018. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

#st louis #100 year rainfall record in st louis during boeing strikes #abolition

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kerosene-in-a-blender · 30 days

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One thing about Orym saying that he can't put down the lens he sees the world with is that he's completely correct, he's always going to be viewing the moon plot and the conflict with the Ruby Vanguard from the perspective of "a guy whose husband and father were murdered by the Vanguard", but the same could be said about the rest of the party. They all have pre-existing experiences and attitudes that have shaped their perspective on things. Orym isn't uniquely biased in this sense.

The most obvious one is of course Imogen, as her long-absent mother is a Vanguard general. She heard Liliana's voice in her Ruidusborn nightmares telling her to run as long as she had those nightmares, and she came to associate that with her mother trying to protect her from whatever the red storm was. It resulted in Imogen giving a lot of grace to Liliana once she found out she was alive and with the Vanguard, a grace that more recent experiences are now making Imogen start to believe was misplaced, but a grace that was born over what she considered her mother's voice to be for years.

Fearne was raised in relative isolation in the Feywild by Nana Morri, and as result her approach to a lot of the events she's now embroiled in has an oddly naive slant to it. The whole would is new to her and she's approaching it like someone who is new to it; there's a lack of understanding of implications that she has that goes beyond her simply being fey. This is best seen in how she's grappling with the reveal that Sorrowlord Zathuda is her biological father. She's aware that Zathuda is terrible and that the circumstances that led up to her birth are dubious but there's also a large part of her that desires a connection with him as her parent and feels like they could have a relationship. She's naive to what exactly she is to him, and also influenced by having grown up longing for the parents that left her with Morri.

Ashton lost their parents and found themself blown halfway across the world after a cult ritual went wrong, and had a spectacularly shitty life that he often found himself begging the gods to fix without answer, and as a result he's very down on the idea of gods and even more down on the idea of letting a cult do whatever they want in order to achieve the perfect world that is just beyond reach by whatever means they must. Especially after the entire shard debacle in which Ashton learned that their parents were definitely wrong to do what they did and there were no good ends for the means that they engaged in he's fallen even harder onto the line of, as he said himself, "I hope her ends are fucking great because these means are just not forgivable."

Laudna's sole experience with anything resembling a higher power for much of her 50-odd-years of life has been Delilah Briarwood, the woman who had her horrifically murdered and is still rather explicitly using her as a means to some unknowable-to-Laudna end. This has both made her one of the members of Bells Hells most open to the idea of there being no gods (no more puppet masters) but also the most broadly sympathetic towards Liliana's view of the Ruidusborn (that they are creations of Predathos with no choice but to be slaves to his whims). Her ardent belief that her lift ended on the Sun Tree thirty years ago also means that she often refuses to advocate for herself or her own needs, resulting in moments where she openly wonders if it's Imogen's destiny to join the Vanguard, despite having herself been at one point brutally murdered by a Vanguard general.

FCG made it his mission in life to help people; that desire drove a lot of what he did up to and including his final act of sacrifice for the Hells. They saw the people struggling against the Vanguard and with the world that the Vanguard created and chose to do what they could to help them. Their desire to help even extended towards the gods, as one of the first things they asked of the Changbringer upon gaining the ability to cast Commune was, "Do you need help?". FCG was also a character driven by a desperate desire to find purpose and to understand the "why" of their own existence, a desire that ultimately drove them towards religion as a means of shaping the meaning of his life, and made him the most openly religious member of the group up to the moment of his death.

Chetney, while the most able to look beyond his own biases by virtue of being the oldest and most emotionally mature member of the party, still carries with him the perspective of having been someone who ultimately made little impact on the world up until, in his twilight years, random chance granted him the power to affect change. He gained lycanthrophy, he met other adventurers in the Hells, and got caught up in an end of the world plot and is finally making a true difference in the world. It's made him, arguably, the most enthusiastic adventurer in the party because he views that adventure itself as a gift, and as a way to create a legacy. The desire of legacy is also the reason he made the bargain that he did with Nana Morri; to secure a legacy as a famous toymaker that would persist after he is gone.

Orym's right that he's biased, but it's fallacious to assume that an unbiased perspective exists, because everyone in the story has their lens through which they view the world that they can't put down, not just Orym.

#bias is the human condition #and i count myself in this as well #i have my own perspectives that shape how i engage with the text of the show #critical role #critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #bells hells #orym of the air ashari #fearne calloway #imogen temult #laudna #chetney pock o'pea #fcg

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