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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

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poisoned rats in a pot of grain - ch. 4

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ty to everyone who told me what yall think the canary suit looks like! if you would like supplemental photos in order to imagine it, i can provide those!

cw: battle-typical violence, dehumanization, claustrophobia

Scott’s happy to say that he hasn’t thought about Solidarity hardly at all in weeks. The wake-up call from Shelby had been necessary to get him back into his head, and he remembers that he has no reason to actually care about Solidarity so he stops worrying about him.

That is, until today.

There’s a new villain in town, one teaming up with Xornoth and from what Scott’s heard the effects have been absolutely devastating. He hasn’t met this ‘Canary’ yet, but from what he’s heard from the hero Microsoft Team and seen on the news, the man has some sort of telepathic or force-type powers. There’s a blurry clip that’s circulating of the Mad King climbing up a wall toward him, only for it to collapse inwards. A clearer one shows fWhip running down a road toward him only to be stopped in his tracks by a car flying out of nowhere. That’s telepathy if Scott’s ever seen it, summoning a car through the air like that. The Canary’s strong telepathy combined with Xornoth’s corruption is so far unbeaten as they cycle through heroes and antiheroes and, on occasion, villains whose turfs they invade.

They’ve got to be stopped, and Scott is just the man to do it.

He’s been a little bit absent recently—the anniversary of Aeor’s death had come, and he’d found himself out of town visiting friends for support—but he’s kept up to date on all of this and he’s certain that Xornoth is finally moving to take over Empires City, if not the country as a whole. Which just can’t happen, and Xornoth is, of course, Scott’s responsibility. So when, two days after he returns, he gets an alert saying that Xornoth and the Canary have been spotted by the harbor, he’s shooting out his backdoor without a second thought.

He follows the sound of screams and sirens to get there, and finally he can see the Canary for himself.

There’s truly not much to see that he hasn’t seen already on the news. The suit is met with tall black boots and leather gloves where it ends, exposing barely any. On top of that is a wide-brimmed black hat with a yellow feather tucked in the band, which Scott knows from the recordings is pinned into the man’s almost militant haircut. The suit itself is mostly yellow with black and grey accents, armored up for extra protection, Xornoth’s classic ‘X’ embossed on the chest (in white and black and grey, almost like feathers bursting from the villain’s chest). Attached to a harness around his chest is a pair of folded glider wings, designed to look just like a canary’s.

The ‘X’ certainly registers as strange to Scott, even as he shoots off a spiraling icicle right at the man, who dodges it just barely. There’s something else, though, something else that certainly feels wrong, something telling him that there’s something not quite right about this situation. Maybe it’s a fashion choice, but combined with the ‘X’, Scott really doesn’t know how to feel about the leather collar around the Canary’s neck. It makes Scott uneasy. Maybe it’s nothing, and it’s just a necklace the Canary likes—but usually, when in costume, one doesn’t wear any distinguishable jewelry. It’s far too easy to lose or forget to remove. Scott’s almost been caught a couple of times when he leaves the house in his layman’s clothes only to realize he left his classic Major earrings in.

There’s no time for curiosity, though, because before he knows it he’s been lifted into the air, a red tentacle squeezing tight around his waist. Scott twists this way and that, evaluating the situation.

He can either freeze the limb and break free, or he can let Xornoth think he’s trapped for a moment to try and understand more of the plan here. Xornoth is the type to monologue, something that Scott’s used to his advantage several times. That would certainly be useful here, wouldn’t it? So he puts up a token resistance, pretends to struggle as the tentacle pulls him close to Xornoth.

“Well, well, well,” the villain says once Scott is within hearing range. “Look who we have here.”

Scott’s always found it difficult to discern between what is their mask and what is their face. His running theory is that the corruption that spreads wherever they goes (it had been distressing for a while, when the fountain downtown had been overrun with maroon vines and toxic black roses, until Blossom had managed to figure out how to reverse it) has also corrupted their body, a reason for their cracked grey lips and the full skin coverage type of costume they have. He’s close enough now to see their lips, spread in a sharp-toothed grin.

“Hello, Xornoth,” he says lightly, resting his elbows on the tentacle still tight around his waist. “See you’ve made a friend.” He jerks his head in the direction of the Canary, who is currently staring down the crowds of people that have flocked to watch, almost daring them to cross into the battle. As if on cue, a flipped car happens to burst into flame. They back off.

Xornoth chuckles. “Do you like my pet bird?”

“I prefer birds that sing, not ones that collapse buildings on my friends,” Scott replies, and he sort of hopes that the news truck down below can pick up what he’s saying. That was a good one.

Xornoth isn’t put out by his quip, though. Instead, their smile grows dark. “Oh, he sings very pretty in his cage,” they say ominously. “Perhaps you will hear one day.”

And if that isn’t creepy as all get out. Scott doesn’t have time to think about what it means, though.

“What’s the goal here?” Scott cuts to the chase. “You think you and the Canary can beat us?”

“Easily. My Canary does exactly as I tell him. And when I take over the city, he will be at my side to ensure my victory.”

Right. That’s enough talk. Scott starts a sentence, doesn’t finish it before he blasts flurries into Xornoth’s face. While they’re distracted, he stabs the tentacle holding him with a shard of ice, rides it as it flails until he’s close enough to the ground to hop off. By then Xornoth has cleared their eyes, is speeding down toward him, the vine holding them moving at record speeds—

Scott dives out of the way, the ground below him going icey, letting him slide even further. Then he’s on his feet, running after Xornoth—Xornoth’s on the ground now, turning back toward him—Scott leaps, his cape rippling behind him, as he lets a stake of ice shoot from his hand directly at Xornoth.

On principle, Scott doesn’t kill. But there’s something off about this situation—and Xornoth’s been a thorn in his side for so long—and surely there’s nothing redeemable about this villain, surely the world will be a better place without them—

The stake misses and he breathes a sigh of relief. It’s short-lived, though, as a blast of red energy nearly nails him in the shoulder, just barely missing him. Scott ducks and rolls, rolls behind a parked car, straightens up and shoots ice in Xornoth’s direction before climbing into the air. His ice builds up into stairs of sorts, hopping from one pillar to the next as they rise steadily higher, tentacles wrapping around each one just as his feet leave it. It’s a move he spent weeks perfecting in college, one that he’s still insanely proud of. He always does it just for fun when kids ask to see his powers. In instances such as the current one, though, it’s more than just aesthetic. It’s life-saving.

Xornoth is rising as well, a tentacle lifting them, and Scott sends bullet-like shards of ice in his direction before doing a front flip off his ice pillar and onto a slide of ice that he’s creating as quickly as he can move. He slips down it, wind rushing through his hair and he can’t help but whoop, grinning at the world—

A tentacle smashes the slide in front of him and he barely has a moment to think nope, not gonna work, before he leaps off the side, tucking and rolling on the wooden dock of the harbor. Right, he’s in the middle of a deadly fight.

Beyond the harbor, the waves are a little choppier than normal. Perfect. Scott pulls at one, his arms moving through the air, turns it to slush then ice as it stretches across behind him, creating a suddenly solid shield behind him for the tentacle to crash into. He laughs when it works, waves his arms to shatter it.

The crowd is cheering, and he sends them a quick salute—they cheer even louder—and then a barrel of something beside him on the dock explodes.

The heat of the flames licks at him, some of them hit him—he cries out, moves to run away but he’s already on the ground and he doesn’t know how. That surely shouldn’t have happened—is the place laced with explosions?

There’s something familiar about the spontaneity of this. Scott doesn’t have time to focus on that, though—he rolls to his feet, pats out the fire on his cape, winces at the angry red marks appearing along his left arm where his sleeve has burned away. There’s so much smoke; his eyes stream as he tries to squint through it.

He’s been in worse. He doesn’t need help yet—

A tentacle snakes out, grabs him around the ankle, pulls him into the air. Okay, this is bad. Nothing he can’t win, but he wouldn’t mind having a bit of help.

The tentacle drags him up high—so high his head spins when he looks at the ground far below, at the flaming barrel, at the crowd, at the tiny yellow-and-black dot that is the Canary—and suddenly he’s eye-to-eye with Xornoth, standing on a tentacle of their own.

“Oh, Major,” they purr, and Scott decidedly does not like that. He reaches up (all that time doing crunches is really paying off), cape in his face, and scrabbles at the tentacle around his ankle. He can catch himself if he falls—it’s such a great height, he doesn’t think he’s ever had to save himself from this high up but there’s a first time for everything—

“You really think you can beat me?”

“Seeing as you’ve never won against me,” Scott grunts, “I feel that I’ve got a pretty good chance.”

Xornoth is abruptly in front of him, one gloved hand clenching Scott’s upside-down jaw, his hands falling away from the tentacle. “Look at me. Look at me, Major.”

Scott shudders, but meets Xornoth’s eyes. They’re black, pools of darkness, darkness that will swallow him up if he gets too deep.

“When I win, I will keep you locked in a cage like my Canary. And when I have your little friends, that Gem and that Blossom and the mayor, I will make you watch me torture them. I will make you watch them beg for mercy. I will make you hurt them.”

As crazy monologues go, this is one of the craziest Scott’s ever had the privilege of hearing. They don’t usually bother him that much, but Xornoth is staring into him with such a familiar look, something so truthful, that Scott can’t help but feel a chill run down his spine as he realizes that Xornoth fully believes they’re capable of such acts. This isn’t a casual, blustering revenge plot. This is forethought. Xornoth fully intends to carry out this plan.

“You’re insane,” Scott breathes, and the villain laughs.

“My pet screamed that once, long ago. You’ll break, just as he did.”

Scott doesn’t have the chance to consider what on earth that means, because while he’s beginning to panic at the tight grip around his leg, something hard and all-encompassing comes out of nowhere and slams Scott down.

He sucks in a breath only to choke on water—it’s a wave, a giant wave hit them, and he’s underwater and everything is muffled and slow and where did this water come from—?

Like a giant hand, the water grabs onto him, pulling him along as he thrashes—he’s never learned to swim, he’d avoided it as a child and was never interested as an adult—then he’s coughing on the ground, hacking up his lungs, and he turns to see—

It’s that water-powered villain, the new one with pink hair that usually the Mad King battles. Scott groans, briefly laments his terrible luck. Why did she have to turn up now? He’s already fighting two villains, two incredibly dangerous villains, he doesn’t need a third. . . .

The water releases him totally—he’s still soaked, but it’s no longer holding him—and almost—pats him on the back? Then it’s gone, racing back up to where the ocean villain is standing on top of a towering wave, hair whipping in the sudden storm of water. And she’s not even looking at Scott, her eyes totally fixed on Xornoth, who is rising up to meet her on a tentacle of their own, also dripping wet.

They regard each other, and Scott’s not sure if they’re about to battle or team up. There’s silence, even the crowd is holding its breath. Scott staggers to his feet, assesses the water—he could ice that over, no problem, will he need to?

She raises a fist, and water shoots out, hitting Xornoth directly in the chest. Right. Because that makes sense. It makes sense that this new supervillain would be on Scott’s side.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he mutters to himself, still gazing up as Xornoth sends a blast of plague-ridden red mist in her direction. He tears his eyes away. He has to get to some cover, message the Mad King or anyone who’ll come, he’s outnumbered here and he’s not sure what to do. He sprints away, close to the crowd (better not get caught can’t bring fights this close to civilians) behind an overturned car, pulls out his heavy-duty flip phone.

Which he promptly drops when he looks up. The Canary is stalking towards him, slowly, predator-like. Like he knows that no matter how far Scott runs, he won’t get away. It’s just a little bit terrifying.

Maybe he should start with an attempt at diplomacy?

“Canary, is it?” he calls out. The man doesn’t react, his mask rendering his face expressionless from this distance. “You’ve hurt quite a few of my friends.” Still nothing. Scott lets out a quiet curse, picks up his phone from where he dropped it and shoves it in his pocket. He’s still not really sure what the Canary is capable of.

The car he’s sheltered behind creaks. And leans. And falls.

Scott dives out of the way, ice appearing all along the ground as he penguin slides out of there. The car falls right where he had just been, then promptly combusts. It must’ve had a faulty engine or something.

The Canary is still coming closer. Scott rolls his eyes, climbs up onto a rising pillar of ice. It’s not going to be difficult at all to get aw—

The ice cracks under his weight, shatters. Scott falls, not far but far enough to knock the wind out of him when he hits the ground. He gasps for breath, turns to see the Canary almost on top of him.

That’s never happened before. His ice has never just cracked like that, leaving him to fall. It’s simply unheard of—and the viewers know that too, judging by their whispers.

That’s shaken him more than anything. He needs back-up, if he can get it. The battle raging in the background (the ocean woman is thrown to the ground but she picks herself back up as if it was nothing and spirals into the air, water conveying her) isn’t helping his focus, and he just needs to get away and pass this battle to someone else.

The Canary is right there. Scott hops to his feet, and, no time to think of anything else, shoves him in the chest. The Canary falls back to the ground, arm flying out in a wide sweep before the crowd (they’re very close to the viewers, just feet away, Scott needs to move this far away). Unnoticed, a metal barrel tips over, some kind of fluid spilling down in a line before the crowd, all eyes fixed on the fight.

Scott dives onto the Canary, still on the ground, and rolls them both away to the side, behind the burning car. They grapple for a moment—the Canary squeezes his eyes shut—there’s screams, screams from beyond the car—

Scott jumps up, runs back around, and there’s a line of fire between him and the crowd. The flames leap insanely high into the air, one section bursts and spits sparks all around and at least thirty feet up. Scott gasps, lifts his hands—he’s got to freeze this, do something to snuff it out, he can’t let anyone get hurt—

A hand grabs his wrist, pulls him back and down to the ground. He’s taken by surprise: in a normal situation, he would use the arm grabbing him as a stable bar to backflip over them and grab them from behind, but he’s still so distracted by the fire that he can’t help but land flat on his back. The Canary is on top of him in an instant, cloak whirling around him, landing his full weight (which isn’t much) on Scott.

His breath leaves him with an oof, and Scott grunts “Buy me dinner first,” before shoving him off. He rolls to the side—the Canary grabs him—Scott kicks him in the chest and scrambles up, feet slipping under him as he leaps into the air. Ice appears below him, giving something to kick off of as he flies forward and lands on his feet. There’s still screaming, so much screaming, but Scott can’t pay attention to that right now because he’s just got to get away from the crowd, draw the Canary away. He runs down the docks, narrowly dodging a whipping tentacle because that fight’s still going on. He runs, skates on patches of ice, slips his way into an alley off the harbor only for something to barrel into his back.

He lands on the ground, scrapes his chin on the asphalt, twists around onto his back to find the Canary on top of him, glider wings closing as he pulls on a string at his chest.

“What is your problem,” Scott manages, before the Canary grabs him by the shoulders and slams his head into the ground. It’s not a very hard hit, but it still leaves Scott a bit dazed as he reaches for the Canary, throws him off, and rolls on top of him.

One right hook to the jaw is all it takes for the Canary to go limp, eyes sliding out of focus and arms falling to his side submissively. It’s not the right move, not in any situation, not even a move Scott would make at his closest to death, but the Canary is completely still, waiting for Scott to hit him again.

That’s not right. He’s never met somebody who just doesn’t fight, and he remembers suddenly what Xornoth said, about their little bird in a cage and screaming—

Without even thinking, Scott tears off the Canary’s mask (inappropriate, illegal, he can’t do that) to hear a familiar cry come from those lips and suddenly be met with a face that he recognizes instantly.

“Solidarity,” he breathes, and Solidarity's panicked eyes find his.

The Canary—no. But the Canary—?

Solidarity reaches up, pulls his mask back down over his face, glances around anxiously. “Get out,” he whispers hoarsely. “Get—please, get away from me. . . .”

It’s Solidarity. He’s—he’s working with Xornoth?

That’s not possible.

He’s working for Xornoth. He’s not got a choice.

“No, I—I’m gonna help you, I’ve got to get you out of here—” Scott rolls off him, tries to pull him up, but Solidarity just shakes his head and covers his ears.

“No, no, I-I’m good, I can’t. . . .”

“Yes, you are good,” Scott encourages. He knows it’s true. Solidarity is no villain. He sees now the thin frame, the way Solidarity’s hands shake, the deep shadows under his eyes. Solidarity isn’t here of his own will. Solidarity isn’t a bad guy here. He glances toward the mouth of the alley, toward the continuing sounds of violence. He has to hurry. He extends a hand. “Solidarity, please. You can trust me. We just have to get going, right now.” He’ll deal with the man’s volatility later. He was right, he was right this whole time when that nagging voice in the back of his head told him that Solidarity’s disappearance was born of ill-intent, he knew it.

Solidarity breathes, deep and shuddering. “I—go. Please. Go. I’ll hurt you.”

He’s probably not wrong about that, what with his lack of control power-wise, but Scott doesn’t care. He just needs to get him away from Xornoth. “That doesn’t matter. It’s okay. I can take a hit if it means you’re safe.”

Solidarity doesn’t respond. He slowly unfolds himself from where he’s curled up, stands (and Scott can see now that what he’d thought was slow, calculated, terrifying movements are just stiff limps and pained steps), moves closer and closer until he and Scott are practically bumping noses.

“Please go,” he whispers, so quiet Scott has to strain just to hear it. “Or I will hurt you. On purpose.”

It’s not an empty threat. Scott can feel the power radiating off of him, the way he crackles with it. He doesn’t budge, though. “Come with me, and I will go.”

Solidarity’s eyes squeeze shut. There’s a creaking sound.

Scott looks up to see the office building they stand in the shadow of buckling in on itself. Of course.

He leaps, tries to clear himself from the destruction, but a chunk of concrete knocks him to the side and he cracks his head against the ground, his vision going red . . . then grainy . . . then black.

When Scott blinks his eyes open, there’s a paramedic taking his pulse. She looks up, smiles at him. He’s not quite sure what she says, but he hears his name and something about putting his neck in a brace. He’s done this sort of thing before, so he just lies back and looks around at what he can.

The alley he’d been in is covered in rubble. He’s too bleary to properly take it in, but he sees an office chair upside-down on a pile of bricks and almost laughs. He coughs instead, dust flying from his mouth. The paramedic clucks her tongue, lets go of his wrist to crack open a water bottle and hold it to his lips. Maybe it’s just because he has Solidarity on the mind, but he can’t help but recall doing the same when patching up his wounds.

Solidarity.

Scott struggles to sit up, is shoved back down by the paramedic. “Major, please stay down,” she says, voice almost muffled to his ringing ears. “You may have hurt your spine. As soon as they can get the stretcher over here, we’ll take you to the ambulance.”

But—but Solidarity—the fight—Xornoth—

“The fight,” he croaks, coughing more. Surely someone else came in, someone else stopped Xornoth from taking away Solidarity again.

“Xornoth and the Canary left, you don’t have to worry about them,” she says kindly, but Scott’s heart sinks. No. “And the water one—I think the news is calling her Lady Shadow?—she got away too, but nobody’s badly hurt.”

Then the paramedics with the stretcher arrive, and they put his neck in a brace and lift him up and there’s no more talking to him, just talking over him. He can hear the flash of cameras as they slowly carry him over the rubble, but he can’t gather the strength to wave, or do anything that might show he’s okay. For all he knows, they think he’s dead.

Scott lets himself be loaded into the ambulance, lets an IV be inserted into his arm, blinks blearily when they ask him questions. A concussion, he hears thrown around, and he curses silently because a concussion will put him out of commission for a week minimum.

The trail for Solidarity will have gone completely cold.

Jimmy takes it when he’s thrown to the floor, he takes it when Xornoth kicks him, he takes it when Xornoth rages at him about ruining everything.

Major wasn’t supposed to get away. It’s all his fault. He just wasn’t enough, didn’t do enough to stop him, didn’t try hard enough. Never mind that he hadn’t eaten and barely slept and so much more. He should’ve been better. He’s just a pet, he should’ve done what his master commanded—keep Major distracted while Xornoth fought the water powered.

He’d done his best. He really had.

Still, he just curls in on himself, lets Xornoth strip the Canary costume from his body until he’s in nothing but his shorts and mask and collar. Then they cuff his hands, attach his leash to his collar, and pull him away from the meeting room.

They pull him into the ballroom, and Jimmy starts panicking.

Xornoth is cutting a clear path to the cage. No. No. He’d been bad, he knows that, he knows he’s bad, but wouldn’t a beating be better? Maybe no food? Anything else?

“Please,” he whimpers, and when Xornoth pauses he throws himself to the ground, pulls at the leash with his bound hands. “Please . . . anything—anything else. . . .”

“You think you deserve better?” Xornoth snarls, looming over him. Xornoth isn’t as pristine as usual, their long hair knotted and their cloak torn. The battle hadn’t gone well for them, either. “You think you deserve to sleep on a bed tonight? You think you deserve to talk back to me?”

The slap is expected, but no less painful. Jimmy’s head whips to the side, his cheek stings, but all he can think of is not going back in that cage. He keens, he pulls on the leash, he shakes his head over and over again because he doesn’t deserve better, he doesn’t deserve a bed, but he can’t go in there.

“I’m sorry—please, master, please—I-I-I—” Another slap, to the other side of his face. He shrinks back, waiting for a reprimand, but Xornoth keeps pulling on the leash instead, fully dragging him across the room as Jimmy scrabbles at the floor.

“No—no, master—please! Master, please!” he screams, all thoughts gone as his brain goes into overdrive. He’s kicking out, his heart is beating faster than it ever has, he’s breathing too fast and not at all— “No—no—I’m sorry, master, please don’t! Please, no—!”

It’s too late. Xornoth bodily throws him in the cage and locks it, and before Jimmy can call to them again, they’re gone. Jimmy screams until his throat is raw, deliriously praying that someone, anyone, will take pity on him because it’s just a punishment, he can survive this he just needs another breath outside, he just needs a moment of respite and then he’ll be fine with the bugs in his spine and the voices muttering in his lungs and the shadows and how small it is he promises, he’ll be fine, he’s so sorry, he didn’t mean it, it was an accident, he didn’t mean to, please. . . .

#empires smp #esmp #empires fanfic #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #empires superpowers au #esh au #mas writes #i love scott he's so much fun to write in this #like i love jimmy and all but his pov is depressing #don't forget this au has a playlist!#maybe i'll link it again later #uhhh there's also a taglist for this!#just lmk if you want to be added #and lmk what you think!#love you guys

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reverenceforthedead · 2 years

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Vulture Culture Observations

Hello Everyone

I’ve recently started to collect some roadkill for their bones and to study the rate of decay with my son, whose pretty interested in it!

As a practicing funeral director apprentice, a death enthusiast, and a practicing Death Witch, I’ve been having a great time learning more about death with my deities.

So let's dive into some observations I’ve gained!

Observations

Pick Up Roadkill Immediately.

This one should be obvious but sometimes you might be curious to see how far into the decaying process you can go without something gross happening. Jokes on me, yall. It’s all gross.

I made the mistake of picking up a young raccoon three days ago in 95 degree weather here in New England. It wasn’t smelling too bad so I didn’t think anything was wrong. Until I picked it up. Yikes. It was purging blood EVERYWHERE.

So to keep a long story short, if you can help it, grab it early. If you can’t, make sure to bring a good garbage bag, a cardboard box to help keep the blood off the car, ideally a pair of gloves if you got any on you, and some hand sanitizer to keep your hands clean until you can wash them at home!

Tubs vs the Outdoors

At the start, I read somewhere on here via another blog I can’t remember the name of, that if you want protection from the elements like other animals from getting to your corpse, you may want to put them into some tubs.

Currently, I have a porcupine, a fox, and a hawk inside two tubs out near my garden. I keep them covered to protect them from the forces of nature. They have decayed slowly. I think its been two months since I got the hawk and porcupine, and a couple of weeks since I got the young fox.

I “burp” the tubs regularly. What this means is, I release the gases from confinement because I don't want any explosions of gas in my face. Trust me on that one.

Today I observed the bodies have become black with purge, which means they are ready to be sprayed and cleaned down with bleach. My husband and I will move them into the forest behind our house, get some screens, and hose out the tubs to hopefully get some cool stuff (bones, feathers, etc).

As for the raccoon, I have kept it outside by a couple of trees on the garbage bag I picked it up in. It has been four days, and already the maggots have exposed a some parts of the rib cage, and a femur.

This tells me that although the risk of a coyote or a vulture getting to my roadkill may be high (I have some foxes and coyotes around my area that like to prowl every once in a while), the rate of decay is still faster when exposed to the elements. Which makes sense.

None of it smells good. Im having a great time learning, though! I'll share some photos of the bones and my goodies that I get once we clean out the tubs!

Preserving Remains

I haven’t mentioned it yet, but I also have a young owl. Right now, it is currently in my deep freezer waiting for us to decide if we want to get it stuffed or let it decay naturally.

If we do decide to let it decay, I’ll keep you informed about how a deep-frozen body does during the summer/ early fall. If we get it stuffed, I’ll let you know about the cost and the final product.

#vulture culture #vulture #culture #death and decay #decay #rate of decay #bones #roadkill #deities #death witch #witchcraft #science #big yikes #smells horrible #why am i doing this though #devotional act #devtional project #letslearnwithghastly

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csealia · 3 years

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Headcanon that Mumza has the wings of a Death’s-Head HawkMoth...

Reference Moth under cut

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honeybeewriter · 4 years

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Angel in disguise

Chapter 1: Settling in

AN: The first few chapters will take place before the USJ attack, so the dorms aren’t implement yet. i hope yall enjoy chapter one of aid. feel free to talk to me about it too!!

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Passing buildings and roaring cars filled you with excitement, your heart racing as you daydreamed of your classes and what its like on campus. Kyoka taps your shoulder lightly, careful not to startle you out of your thoughts. You turn to your now host sister “yes Kyoka?” You tilted your head in curiosity

“Are you excited?” Her voice soft as she tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, her onyx eyes looking over your expression.

“Very!! I cant wait to see my class and get to know everyone! It sucks that we aren't in the same class.” You voice cheerful but it wavers at the end. You really hope to have at least one class with her, you might be excited but a familiar face would be nice to have.

A gentle chuckle from the front seat from mika as she turned around “remember (y/n) there are other classes besides hero and support, so im sure youll have a class together. So don't worry too much dear.”

“Hopefully, someone to hang out with other than the boys!” Kyoka groaned as she rubs her face as her phone chimed

“The boys?” You questioned but before she could answer, the car was pulled to a stop, ‘home already?!’ Your thoughts echoed as you mindlessly unbuckle your seatbelt. The home in front of you wasn't huge but it was perfect in your eyes

“Kyotoku! Help me out with (y/n) things!”

You didn't even realize that you were the last one still in the vehicle, as you step out of the car you turn to the back end of the car, watching mika and kyotoku pull your luggage from the trunk. The sticker covered bags rolling against the ground, passing you “hey kiddo? You off in dream land?” Kyotoku waved a hand with a chuckle, placing his hand on your hair “come on we are gonna rockin time!!”

Mika unlocks the door, guiding the family inside. As you enter the scent of lilac hits your nose it’s calming, once again your spaced out as you take in your new home until graduation.

The exchange program was a long term deal between schools, a support hero for a support hero. You have a wonderful talent of inventing new tech for the pros! Its just you lack the confidence boost you desperately need, hopefully this is it.

Kyoka placed a gloved hand on your shoulder as she nods to her parents “come on, we will show you to your room” you both begin to walk “i know its like 5am but we have to be at school by 8am, so try to sneak in some sleep.” She nudged you playfully as the four of you reached the room.

Blank cream walls with hardwood floors decorated with a full size bed in the middle in front of a window. “Feel free to go all out in this room, it is yours after all. Make yourself at home kiddo” Kyotoku ruffles your hair as he exits the room after setting the luggage down. Mika smiled a motherly smile towards you “Get some rest before school” simple yet warmly mika said as she exits the room to join her husband in the other room

“I'll wake you up 30 minutes before we leave, sleep well” Kyoka yawned as she sat down the last item of yours and left the room to go sleep in her own bed.

Your body, exhausted from the long trip, as soon as your head hits the pillow; your heavy eyelids shut and you drifted off into a blissful sleep.

At your old school you were one of the top support students, always making amazing support items. Always something new in the works, even when it blew up in your face you would alway huff, but your father would never let you bring yourself down. He always said, “Look angelwings, things wont improve if you sit and sulk, dont let failure scare you, okay? Let your failure be your inspiration to improve.”

Remembering it like it was yesterday when you made your first successful item for your medic mother, a medical clipin that could record a patient's vitals. That was what got you noticed by UA. The nursing industry suggested you to UA because they all believed you had a gift! So here you are, in japan, for the rest of the school life.

Knock

“(y/n) its time to get up, we have to go if we want to catch the bus!” Kyoka called from the other side of the door. The cracks in the blinds allowed inkling of the morning golden rays to dribble in the room, filling it with warmth.

Pushing yourself up from the short slumber made you groan as your host sister pushed the door open. “Rise and shine, i have your uniform, ill lay it on the bed. Mom has breakfast ready for us.. So um, just get ready and come down when your ready” she muttered softly as she laid the outfit down onto your bed.

With heavy feathers you stretch your wings up and back, releasing any tension within the joints. Luckily the uniform has wing slits for you. You fought with the undershirt for a good minute, a victorious “AHAH!!” bounced off the walls of your room. Finally with you dressed the part you make your way downstairs.

The smell of gohan, eggs and tsukemono filled your nose, Your feet moved faster than your stomach. “Good Morning sweetheart, I made a togo breakfast and alittle extra for lunch, since your money hasn’t transferred quite yet. But im sure kyoka wouldnt mind sharing lunch with you, right hun?” Mika hummed as she finished the bento box, handing both boxes to the two of you. Kyoka nods “Oh! Of course… it's the others i'm worried about..” She muttered as her earphone jacks poke together nervously.

Mika smiled, rolling her eyes softly as she ushered you both out the door “hurry up or you'll miss the bus to school.'' Kyoka takes both bentos, holding them as she leads you to the end of the street where the bus stop stood.

“Okay, so before we get to school, you might run into some of my friends. I know at lunch you will meet them but just to name the main few. You have Yayo-momo, Uraraka, and mina for a few females.” The bus arrives and you both board, taking a seat together, bento boxes in the respectful lap. “Now for the boys, you have kaminari, kirishima, sero and bakugou. Watch out on bakugou. He is kinda a hot head.” You giggle at her statement acknowledging the information. “But you might not see everyone I just mentioned, due to you being in class 1-F.” With quiet nod silence fell between you and your sister. You watched the small countryside city skated by in a blurr.

After a short while, the bus came to a gentle stop at the UA entrance. Kyoka stood up, and you followed her motions holding on gentle to the back of her book bag. You were nervous and scared of the new school, as any new kid would. As you both exit the bus, Nezu stands on top of Power Loader’s helmet waving to you both .

“Ah! Good Morning jiro and (L/n)!! I hope you had a wonderful flight! It's a pleasure to finally you! As you know i'm principal Nezu! And this man” he pats the metal hat with his paws “Is Power Loader! He will be your teacher from here on out!!” Power loader gave a sincere smile as and held out a sheet of paper “this is the school map, incase you ever get lost.” You smile as you take the paper from the teacher and giving it a once over before looking among the sea of kids outside.

The echoes of laughter and talking rang in your ears, Kyoka smiled as a blonde male waved to to her excitedly amongst the small group of people he stood with: a spiky red hair boy, whose teeth were sharps like a sharks, a oil slick of black hair on a taller male of the group, a female whose skin was bubblegum pink with matching curly pink locks of hair and finally standing next to the yellow haired male was another blonde

Time seemed to stand still, the leaves stopped in time, freezing in mid air. A breath caught in your throat as a set of deep cherry red orbs locked to your brilliantly warm (e/c). It was like a rush of emotions had hit you in the chest like a baseball that had been hit in a homerun. You looked on as kyoka left your side to join the small group. It was like the world was white and the only thing you saw was the blonde male. The feathers in your wings ruffled out trying to cool yourself down from this new found heat, that wasn't the sun. Soon the unknowing staring contest was cut short.

“(L/N) are you ready to get your day started?” Power loader asked, waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you from your gaze. “Um, Y-yeah” you stumbled your words and tried to look again for the male. But he was nowhere to be seen in the flood of kids entering the school.

Who was that male? Why are his eyes so beautiful? Maybe you will see him again. Kyoka did run to his group. NO no distractions!!

#my hero academy fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #slow burner #angel in disguise #katsuki bakugo x reader

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familyagrestefanblog · 5 years

Text

Peacock miraculous theory

Alright yall, the current state of the peacock miraculous, Mayura in general, Emilies coma and the damage it does/did to Natalie and Emilie has been wracking my brain FOR MONTHS but I think I’ve got something now

So buckel up folks, this is gonna get longer. Here we go

Lets start with the obvious question everybody had (and immediately dismissed as a mistake) in “Mayura”. Why did the miraculous look different and what does it mean

There is alot to unpack here, so first things first.

Simplified answer: in the first picture Duusu is IN the miraculous and in the lower she’s OUT of it.

“But how can Duusu be IN the miraculous, nobody is wearing it!” I hear you asking and of course I’ll explain. What I believe is that the way we saw the peacock in “Mayura” came to be because Duusu was renounced, meaning she was put into the miraculous without anyone wearing it to conceal her or something like that. This already happened before, first time when Marinette and Adrien opened their miraculous boxes

Plagg and Tikki are already in their Miraculous and power them up and only come out to face their new holders. Also nice little touch, the ring starts glowing first because Plaggs a hungry little shit with no patience to get cheese lol

But the second time this happened is the one I wanna focus on. In “the Collector” when Gabriel detransformed to akumatize himself.

These are the two forms of the butterfly (or any miraculous for that matter) that we know of but when Hawkmoth detransformed back into Gabriel to become the Collector, Gabriel did something interestin. He renounced Nooroo. Then this happened

The miraculous turned back into its “active form” even though Gabriel wasnt wearing it and stayed that way when he put it away.

Meaning yes, the peacock miraculous we saw in “Mayura”makes perfect sense when Duusu was simply renounced.

Next.

I dont have a smooth transition for thisbut stay with me, I need to explain this first. Why does Mayura/Natalie look so different from the other holders and the way Duusu and the miraculous damage her (and Emilie)

As everyone hopefully noticed by now, Mayuras design looks very different from the other miraculous holder. Everybody (including ancient holders) looks like they are “wearing” their powers (suiting up) but Mayura looks like she’s possessing the power, the way the akuma victims do. No I#m not about to tell you that mayura is akumatized, what I’m saying is that Natalie absorbes Duusu as Mayura.

Okay please hear me out

A while ago someone from the ml crew leaked official concept arts and included was Mayuras

as you can see, even though Mayura is tranformed here she’s oddly still wearing the “inactive form”. The miraculous doesn’t fit to the color scheme the way every other does and it has 9 feathers instead of the normal number 5 that is also present in every other miraculous (because of the timer). So yeah, its the normal form.

So what I believe is that since the peacock miraculous is broken, it cant absord Duusu anymore while transforming the holder. Its “leaking” as to say. It can hold Duusu when shes being renounced (as seen in “Mayura”) but once a holder is involved? The power/Duusu go straight through the miraculous right into the person.

Which is why the person using the miraculous becomes so incredibly sick andeven falls into a coma. A human being is not meant to absorb the power of a Kwami. As Astruc said himself Kwamis are GODS, humans needed the jewlery to be able to “use” the Kwamis because they are just THAT powerful (flashback to Plaggs little Cataclysm in “Style Queen” that fucking BROKE 90% of Paris or him being the reason the dinosaurs went extinct)

So we have an explaination for what happened and is currently happening to Emilie and Natalie but thats not everything I have for this point! I also believe that Duusu herself somehow got sick. For this I dont have alot to work with (because of the little screentime Mayura and her miraculous had up until now and 0 scene AT ALL for Duusu herself) but what we have leaves me a bit perplex, starting with Duusus design.

Duusu is the ONLY Kwami whose colors do not fit to the real life animal. Look t this and see what i mean

THIS is not how a peacock looks like, where th is the pink coming from? If Duusu were accurate like every other Kwami (purple butterflies exist, so even Nooroo is accurate even though purple isnt the first color that comes into your mind when you think of butterflies. Its close in my case tho) she would be green instead of pink! But you know what? The green is actually there, let m show you something

In negative Duusus peacock green is there, which lets me believe that Duusu turned pink because shes sick (keep in mind that the show often works with negative/opposite colors, Queen Bee and Antibug for example). Beside that I also find curious how much they focus on Duusus emotional outbursts here in her introduction picture. No other kwami has THIS emotional range, not even Plagg comes anywhere close to this and hes the most “out there” Kwami we know!

Alright, whats next?

Ah!

Why was Duusu only renounced in “Mayura”? What are her powers and how can Mayura use them?

Last one promise!

From what we have seen in “Mayura” the peacock is simular to the butterfly in terms of the “akumatizing and communication” stick but both of their powers are not the same! The big difference is that the butterfly adds power to a persons emotional energy which posseses them and the peacock takes the emotional energy an dcreates a ptotector out of it. Both use the energy of a person but only Mayuras power is actually really channeling them. When Mayura rescued Hawkmoth in “Heros day”, he collapsed when Mayura channeled his energy but Im pretty sure thats because the peacock is damaged. If it were normal I believe it would give the person the power to control the protector. Probably also alot more but thats everything Im getting out of the one scene we had with her but I think her powers will be very energy based in general. In the concept art is a picture of Mayura attacking with somesort of energy blast and thats there for a reason for sure!

Where I’m getting here with the whole energie thing is that I believe Duusu on her own can channel a persons energy to protect/preserve and maybe even heal a person. Peacocks are (beside other things) known for Spirituality, Awakening, Immortality, refinement and incorruptibility. So Duuse being able to channel a persons energy is possible, its like Plaggs ability to destroy everything on his own.

Okay I think we all know where Im getting here, so Ill just say it.I believe Duusu was only renounced in “Mayura” even though shes sick/damaged because normally shes trying to/being used to keep Emilies comatose body alive. Of course she isnt doing this 24/7, she cant because shes damaged which also expalines why Emilie is not getting better but worse. Duusu and her powers are aick and damaged, they are probably only able to keep her alive for a little longer before they cant stop time anymore.

This is also supported by the last scene in “Gorizilla”. Remeber this?

We dont see Emilie or anything in close up here, but what we can do, is hearing! Remeber the ticking noises that sounded just like the miraculous timer? Again in the concept we also see this

It seems like the miraculous in their normal form can use some kind of powers too and once again, just like the “activated” timer, something is dissapearing from the miraculous. So maybe gabriel is making Duusu useing her powers to help Emilie and the ticking noise we heard was the efect it has on the miraculous like seen above. It stands in question why Duusu would need the miraculous for useing her powers but its likely because its damaged and Astruc once comfirmed that Kwamis need the miraculous jewleries to interact with humans. So since both she and the miraculous are damaged, she needs to use her powers through the miraculous to be able to help. But thats just one possible way, I need more context for this detail.

Alright u guys, THATS IT

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iotaarcane · 6 years

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XnationalZ

BUSY BLOW TORCHING DABS

Door doesn’t open it glides on rails like the entrance impales tracks leave scabs

They pick at them like a flurry of energy inertly imperil and in peril while sterile the enemy isn’t at his post busy blow torching dabs

Laughing gas to a mass of brain cells that might as well been in cell or for sale to sell for the fact of not being usable like loud theater patrons at musical

Stomping footsteps upsets the stairwell, Hercule as security

picks you up and while airborne you get the farewell.

A good bye of sorts a great try physically the body with a little help contorts but spiritually its dormant in hibernation protected in a fort. The outside winds set him to the maximum miles per hour bumping over the welts. Swelling is mainstream never go underground. A golf club waving at lightning

A day filled with bad decisions. A perfect life a nocturnal health freak who is slowing dying because of the hours he choose to sleep. North of the sauna lives out of water a piranha gills with chankla…. Flip flop the hip hop to this mantra…. They got Bin Laden but the tomatoes slices cut au gratin and their insides just by general principal all rotten every good deed all but forgotten.

They attempted because it looked great on camera to have caughten Sadam but the madam of the ministry secretly had many a body double dangling feet from noose corpse of course wasn’t who they thought they had bad DNA tests fail when not given. You’ll just straight believe without any thought or thinking in a closed space trying to identify who is stinking. This planet in that galaxy is sinking below where it once orbited and your whole existence is defined of what you afforded how toxins are absorbed y’all point the finger iota morbid.

As blood dripping on everything like a loop of hemoglobin training goblins to run tasks on apps. Hairless ape with only a little fur missing - hand and the wrist slice is still fresh magenta pink placenta veiny underwent chef prep, impractical to prevent a story to end like this begin as it went, we muster the emotion to climb street curb like step, tentacle suction cup girlfriend tales like cotton swab on bunny ear manifesto. One piece bikini transacting - posts no bill. Open register the creditor turned into a collector, an editorial of breadwinner meanwhile back in the western hemisphere sky is too clear - cuts retina sundries colander fluid filter an array of enemies attacked the command post. The mid morning foray angrily adjusted. You could totally notice the moment the ward went kaleidoscope twist 33 degree. As the crow fly viewpoint saw the west wing extend and to what seems like an elbow bend but they aint drinking consuming much of nothing except orders from the chief who dictates the whereabouts and you gotta be down cannot have doubts they don’t come in shouts - illest hand signals in the game it’s an artistic beauty to see the tic for tac counterattack he who gets the most vagina must be the Mack. Diesel easel drawer no undies they were left in dresser drawer and if it don’t work out oh no the lawyer is not pro bono yet the retainer fixed the teeth apprehended the beef no more issues.

Him whose piss poor planning continues will be facing the sultry seductress Miss Hughes 4 feet 6 shoes opposite of the elephant of Hindus infamous for the pop ins on miscues So real was breakfast cereal mammal sauce from cashews. Nipple hula hoop sports car aficionado drop top in the coupe where they kept the chickens. Jumpy trampoline mouth fortune reader foreseen vulgar obscene potty lips unclean that contingency of the attorney of where wonder land on a poca dot which marks the spot. Accuracy solar hot, lift off broke apart space shuttle heat pads over hot not matter if they were chosen or not. Nudity not as bad as could be frontal, wide opening little exit funnel so many come backs you can’t shoot down every rebuttal. We double as secret agents where birds are fowl and flagrant evil as the vortex in control of this spaceship. I got it plannded see use that ladder granted to climb into the zoo – carefully pinpoint were from the top we landed snag a handful thus huck right between their eyes candid close to the nose as possible rancid so they go crazy - ape shit

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++NOTHING and LIKE it

You’ll get nothing and like it. No matter how much you despite it.

Like you wanted that new whip but you were too good for the bus so you bike it.

Like it ever mattered – your best bud did the same inebriated on the way home dump truck made him splattered we identified the body basically because only thing left the t-shirt he wore that night tattered. I want a hamburger – with a vegan patty in the current state of Armageddon it doesn’t look good brethren Xnational that’s why I rock the same hairdo as a Tibetan. No a cheese burger yall overreacting on this meat is murder so is a relentless ethic of work especially when exhausted and it hurt. We’ve been threatened by a heavy weapon. I was reading about Reagan and outline seems Pagan that’s as good for you as dippin Copenhagen spittin telling the surgeon do not beckon the question I love when my gummies are redden. Cancer of the embouchure is more than a Horoscope sign I concur. I want a hot dog. Smothered in mustard covered in meat trimmings ground up chemicals as the fixings. Bought my rhymes with a great bargain from Groupon. Even added a discount photoshopped counterfeit coupon. Creating to the beat the loops on. I don’t know is a Bentley a Rolls Royce because in the back seat the window lowered and I was offered grey poupon do you happen to have another choice. Already had condiments on my weenie. Get off my computer don’t you dare peep my documents. My sentiments exactly the conference in regards to arguments approximates Many inter-nationalities at least 3 continents. Ancestor occupants with these words I’m a biochemist marketing guerrillas in the midst of this mist. We the tapestry of ornaments via the internets correspondents it’s like I’m studied on my own no paperwork to show my doctorate of rocking it. I want a milkshake mixed extra thick so it actually improves my life. Massacre in the streets. Soul gets fasten to the beats. Emotion in a drum pattern. Puts the spirit at ease changes lives makes memories. We reminisce lacking candor look back in retrospect kinesis situational intensity convince myths as the centripetal force drifts making you cause conflicts with the dame you caressed whose early departure has you dismissed flailing arms is a fit temper tantrum get nothing and like it anthem in this for the marathon and beyond whereupon such a large portion of our population is related to Genghis Khan. What was going on? Mating a savage motivation bondage of ancestral astral projections. In a succession of going with aggression. Talking too much now I’m a witness to this confession. I didn’t want to know that nor should you want to share it - in your heart bear with it. I need to check up on what era that was. I want potato chips crisper than a whisper in a dark room embracing solitude twiddling a whisker brisker than podcast radio transistor, he was very bad only did one movie but he was a fister, turned that lifestyle around and became a wonderful listener, except after he kissed her, she fiddled his zipper, polished half handle of liquor, hand cuffs cutoff circulation like a prisoner, as she moved towards his waistline she announced OK noodle, his phone screen lit up he couldn’t get up - his unit wouldn’t get up, Here is the kicker, she addressed yours is so much pinker, than red shade of a swisher, Oh yes it is sir right when she was about to go to town cell phone screen with the rear camera face down accessed a video Oh yes Mister Fisher. Vid featuring a debutante with oily wrist smash grab a sphincter. Homegirl peeped it out the corner of her eye. Jeez Louise Guy, you think she liked it, those are screams of terror why did you video tape and mic it? Payback is real He said no no stop she said you will get nothing and like it.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Bloop Didn't Match Bleep

Flat line monitor they filed with the manufacturer to get truth because bloop didn’t match bleep

Was she dead or deep asleep it takes a large leap of courage to surpass milestones when laid out flat on back thick as a board bright as feather totally do laps passing my stone counting per mile our style lashes out flashes of the bang - boom go sky. They hope when it’s over something changes dramatically like a star fall macho man bar brawl telekinetic script to anyone one whom you bonded importance of existence is something you cannot deny.

Fly by the seat of pants, advance like cash flow, difficult to rap slow, I wanna run it like you need it get roller pinned and kneaded, Hebrew jui-jitsu submission look at what his knee did. Star of David on his playlist we turning off tech on Satur no matter bribery or how you flatter your condolences belated along with ski masks raided should of seen them coming the porch was shaded driveway isolated doctrine confirmed over something we traded urine peptide beaker foggy but perplex this – His best amigo did too much acid like amino so when he was at cathouse heard a whore moan he could only cognate behavior to influence mood balanced hormone as the counterpoint feline payment never transacted fee to wait in line. What skill or excellences are you pursuing how can you portray without any cueing. Hit your marks. Spit in pitch black fire mouth out sparks.

It’s your energy that relay tend to take opposition and sway. Assists their dishin’ drug addicts spinning to get spun on a mission in addition to addiction they act like they don’t lie this is no audition you’re grown why you want permission to ruin your life You see in LA a Bruin cub a forty niner in Long Beach data gets scrubbed unit information placed out of reach. Look what the cat drug in, breeze blew in you could have been somebody a shoo in. Migrated to Peru in a mobile pyramid amongst doubters, its like the shouters are first with inside out lower lip pouters claim to be ballers all they are is browsers knickerbockers shirtless with trousers waving a give me a freebie voucher so I roll with moon howlers now does this overwhelm like towers stimulates give us powers of the third kind and our encounters.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Gun Laws

- No fun wit dem laws especially when encountering rough edges grainy surface with gun laws

- The cause is mass hysteria because amendments put both sides into a predicament

- Wing of the Eagle into action Xnational Activist after a sour apple up spring the people Active Fist raised above the forehead concurrently nobody wants more dead.

- Not even the gunman but what about that run in my states Capitol Sacramento

- Odd… Cell phone is not a weapon 20 trigger pulls the Police can act like a beast, On tempo protest Florida mad man rampaged blood everywhere escorted in handcuffs away facial expression wonder struck departed campus quad

- Dem our rights in dat bill but that bill was proclaimed before our land fell ill Overdose of fluoride oxygen intoxicants horrible supplements processed food and diabetes from too much sugar in condiments

- Now to fix your country don’t be chicken like poultry spend love to arrange a redeeming elixir

- This is precise calculation when you are overcrowded too many people in population the hypertension trying to keep up with what you commercially demonstrating sort of like an exchange of demon trading evil for evil soul grasp tool sickle--- Concise to arbitration overcrowded too many people in population the hypertension trying to keep up with what you commercially demonstrating sort of like is regal viper fang retention seek help contemplating like gleaming shovel off moonshine fickle.

- Everything even your status is the status materialism is the apparatus zero the sum on the abacus but yet the ability to function not be bullied or tempted to destroy yourself or others can be uncontrollable

- Mental health doesn’t have a look so why they judge based on the cover texture ink print of book

- No civilian needs an automatic machine gun. Home protection can be accomplished with 20 gauge is plenty.

- There are more guns in the US than people. So agree with March for our lives. I disagree with anything I’m not feeling and if we all could be a Democracy and meet in the middle we all should be fine with the compromise.

- First person liver body organ problem corking, ostrich keeping dome piece dipped into land chunks hoping not to get things out of proportion

- News was sidetracked Porn Star had protection less sex with President along with a dry cleaner hanger abortion clinic minute men attacking those who look immigrated

- It’s a circle of blood you been initiated. We do not exist in a dystopia but these large organizations can paint whatever portrait they want to fit into an agenda

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++You Can Be Anything

You are where you at in fact you could go where you want to be and you can be anything

So easy to feel like nothing complain and become doubtful with a mouthful of evil they walk in a horrible path of negativity and self-destruction same time place continuum hurting others while they just trying to get through the same as you do. What is this reasoning? Who created the outline? Why if I don’t play ball can’t I get a pass down on the baseline? Appeasing you either got to be a mover and shaker or to the sideline your thrown and labeled a space waster. Money identifies so much. Status class how your friends and family eat continuous and fast. Totally empty posthumous till those on top of the power structure find those beneath humorous. Better teeth greater smile success is subjective. I took the elective to be me why don’t you be you. Underneath all the bogus ideas and understandings I breathe near the 14th of the month only to inhale and not exhale for another 30. If you do business justified you can really be wealthy if you lied play dirty. Landing around the 5th I derail in a matter of moments look sick and pale living again for less than allowed. Now the natural lines in my face is scowled. I want to be an xnational not into whats in or rational I’ve never admired reality TV or what is force fed to me. The world is very fluid with whats not allowed how you make your bread and weather you get a box or become dust when dead. They never said it would be like this but they never stated it wouldn’t or couldn’t I’m tired of the chosen getting a vote I never balloted giving me basically 2 options on major decisions unanimously untalented more than perfected for the future while living slithering past the masses until something so major happens to a loved one a ugly ungloved one frozen in the headline archived content someplace indefinite it is about time. Dig through scorched Earth. Charred ground far fewer giblets in the stew to see self in mirror the spoon is wooden and sipping left a splinter too difficult to survive this nuclear winter.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++To Get Bye

Chatted with an annoying carcass inverted in Caracas on an apparatus and we agreed about this

You’re all I need to get buy

- The voice don’t know but like a bass line I record in mono Remember before I kissed a girl I got mononucleosis and this in general gave me a neurosis if I haven’t kissed how the heck did I get mono

- Punctuality arriving pronto seconds click nimble with the fingertips pulling a combo characterized in metabolic state ketosis

- Fasting near or around roses favorite floral Lotus. To get by stay fly no aeronautics my aerobics consists of verbal trampoline pounce the guardrail carine upon the jet strip Don’t Trip.

- Landing gear engaged to get by clearance from the air traffic controller, just this style is me high roller tip toeing soldier avoiding ebola maintain employment meeting or exceeding quota.

- To get buy you need straight cash homie loads and loaves of bread cheddar or whatever Hamilton greenbacks, paper guap of franklin will do

- To get by Your Blessing will be thee necessity sky beautiful. Open heart to keep it plain and simple more than the crease unfolding the ripple

- To get by clean water fresh air healthy food the ability to create mobility infinitely friends family meditation agility stretching.

- Concept of these scriptures stacks all the to the back of literature willingness be the finesse all this and that’s success

- To get by why try easier to complain make it artificial cause others through the tidal waves stress and strain

- Sitting on your knees sneaker heels tap the back of your button ups Long Barrel at temple. Imagine the thoughts before you’re executed. That process of it’s over. Can you fanaggle? Use communication for survival last chance come at them sideways like a tooth that snaggle

- This snag will either end your current existence begin into a newish dimension an entrance how did these doors swing open? Never let them see you moping. Laugh in the face danger many elements to this for coping.

- Change is a guarantee and you can’t get much of anything so constant. Who can adapt the fastest? Chip up as soon as society is cashless. Global position the system while mapless. I’m going to flow more rap less.

- Concubine colorful sword edge dull, The Ktown market I copped it at in the China shop bull. Tea party porcelain porcupine alarm module.

- iota needs some soda caramel color cola so the bubbles can fix my upset tummy stay scummy my friend is a sin and not funny Lowest on totem pole that explains the mischievous grin

- Never find work attitude be the jerk stay going bizerk at the store with the clerk make it impossible for them to accomplish the mish undertone a smirk relentless and abscessed until they fail find out it all evolved from silly little games your repercussions wrong answer given to test

- Well rounded knew how art felt, Chemicals were spilt and the fumes of the 2nd story would melt. Heartfelt never dealt a hand like that patience is all precious up til you are the doctors patients and he truly evil terrorize a boll weevil wore wild long tail lab coat crazy colors of crayon except no cotton all rayon and he would lay on the guilt deprive of medication till the truly ugly wanted to be killed subconsciously the whispers You’re all I need to get by…..

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smartcookie727 · 7 years

Text

Tears

Thanks @kmmcm for the request. Gotta write to keep myself from freaking out. First time writing bixanna. I hope they came out right. Idk why but I can’t write a short request for you. I had a lot of fun and this just grew and grew; I really love them together. Lemme know what yall think!

Pairing: Bixanna

Prompt: Tears

Length: 1.2k

Tears

Lisanna stood, pinpricks of pain shooting across her feet from sitting on the floor too long. She couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever. Bickslow would be back soon. What would he say? A knot twisted in her stomach, threatening to toss whatever little she had left of her lunch. She wasn’t ready—they weren’t ready for this, were they? Lisanna fought an internal war of attrition. Her body screamed to hide the evidence and run, to tell no one, but her head knew Bickslow would be so hurt if she left. Each side pulled her, one way and then the other, until all she could do was sit on the bed and cry.

Breath came fast and haggard until she heard the familiar thud of the front door closing and click of the lock. Time’s up. She needed to dry her tears. Pulling herself together, Lisanna took a deep breath, not ready to face the man she thought she loved. They’d barely said those words weeks ago. How was she supposed to know if they’d still be true after tonight?

Bickslow was peeling off his shirt as she entered the living room. He didn’t like much adornment at home; the man would be comfortable walking around the apartment in just his helmet if he could with as hot as Magnolia was in the summer. Perks to having Bickslow as a boyfriend. It was likely a reason they were in this situation now. He whirled around to face her, giant grin plastered on his face, and she cursed herself, about to break both their hearts.

Bickslow pulled her into a hug, placing a warm kiss on the top of her head. “How’s my Lis this evening?”

“How’s Lis? How’s Lis?” his dolls echoed. One fluttered over to her shoulder, resting on its favorite perch. Lisanna sat down on the couch with a sigh.

“I'm…ok.”

Bickslow peered at her through the metal grating with one green eye before slowly removing his helmet. “You know you can tell me anything, Lis. Lying isn’t gonna fly around me, though.”

“Won’t fly. Won’t fly,” the dolls sang.

Bickslow shooed them away. “Babies, Momma and I need to chat. Go play somewhere else.” The dolls hung in the air for a moment, disappointed they had to leave, but eventually they scattered, chasing each other into the kitchen. His attention turned back to Lisanna. Her face was flushed and tears welled in her eyes. Sitting down, he draped an arm across her shoulder, and she rested her head on his chest. “Now tell me, little bird, what’s got your feathers all ruffled?”

Lisanna sniffled into his shirt before drawing up every ounce of courage she had left. “I’m pregnant.” Bickslow ran his hand through her hair, fingers dancing along her neck before they found their way back to her opal locks. “Bix, it’s yours. I guess from well…you know. And I don’t think I can—I don’t expect you to—I don’t know anything anymore. I’m just scared.”

Bickslow continued to stroke her. “Of course it’s mine, silly. We’ve certainly had ample opportunities.” Tilting his head back, he laughed deep in his belly. “I thought we were doing well with protection, but sometimes we kinda get carried away during foreplay.” Lisanna’s cheeks lit up with a rosy blush; he was certainly right about that. “And I guess my swimmers are stronger than I thought.” Kissing her forehead, he asked, “What are you so scared about?”

Lisanna looked up at him incredulously. “It’s a baby. We haven’t even been together a year. The responsibility—we couldn’t possibly be ready to be parents. Do you even want kids? How are we supposed to—” She was spiraling out of control. Bickslow pulled her up his chest so she was looking straight in his eyes and swiped a finger over her nose.

“Silly little bird, what do you have to be worried for?” Lisanna squinted at him and puffed out her cheeks. Rumbles of laughter rolled through his body, she was too cute when she made that face. “Don’t gimme that look. I’m taking you seriously. I just don’t see what you have to be nervous about.” A black tipped finger slid down her cheek and under her chin, pulling her into a kiss. “Sure we haven’t been together a year. Doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. And we already have five kids. Of course I’d be happy about one more.” Bickslow looked deep into her eyes, passed all her walls of fear and insecurity, to the woman whose soul shone brighter than any other. “Plus, this one will be so special. Cause it was made with a piece of both our souls.”

Fear slowly melted the shell around Lisanna’s heart. He wasn’t going to leave. She hadn’t particularly thought of herself as a mother before, she’d always been the baby, but the dolls did act like children a fair amount of the time. Maybe this wasn’t an end to what she loved; maybe it could be a beginning. Lisanna smiled weakly. “I hadn’t thought of that before.” The pounding in her heart softened. “I’m still not sure if I’m ready,” she paused, kissing him gently, “but it means so much that you’d be alright with this.” The tension in the air started to dissipate and she giggled. “You keep on surprising me. I thought for sure you’d freak out more. I did.”

Bickslow chuckled. “Well I was a little surprised at first, but that was more cause I was sure we used protection every time. After a few days I was pretty calm. Just waiting for you to tell me.” Lisanna stared at him, eyes wide, before lightly slapping his chest.

“You knew? How the hell did you know? I wasn’t even sure until today.”

“Magic, baby. I can see souls, remember?” His eyes glowed in a near comical reminder.

“So you saw our baby’s soul and figured I was pregnant and didn’t even tell me?” she speculated, notes of confusion and teasing in her voice.

“Nah,” he shook his head, “doesn’t work like that. Your soul kinda changed. It got brighter and the shape sort of—it’s complicated. I can’t really explain. I don’t see a specific soul for the baby yet, just almost a small extension of yours. Plus I thought you knew. Don’t you have signs for this stuff?”

“Yeah, but it takes a while to read those signs correctly. You get a free pass for not telling me for now, but next time my soul changes, how about you let me know.”

“You got it, Lis. So…do you wanna tell them yourself or together?” Lisanna gazed at him, unsure of what he meant, and then she smiled, understanding.

“Babies, come here! We’ve got something to tell you,” she called.

Near instantly they could hear little voices chanting, “coming, coming,” followed quickly with, “tell us, tell us.”

Tears of joy and relief dripped down over the wild tattoos on Bickslow’s eyes. His fingers brushed Lisanna’s jaw, drawing her lips to his own. His tears came faster as he kissed her, until he was spent and let his head rest on the shoulder of the mother of his child. So softly she almost didn’t hear, Bickslow whispered, “We’re gonna have a baby.”

#bixanna #lisanna strauss #bickslow #fairy tail fanfiction #ftfanfics #cookie writes #fairy tail fics #small request

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kirukirice · 7 years

Text

Among the Crows: Chapter 51 - First Blood

I’m thinking that if chapters are going to be longer it would be better not to post the whole thing here since ‘keep reading’ doesn’t work on mobile. What do yall think?

Anyways, enjoy the chapter uvu

–> Full text here on Ao3!

Dinner at Ukai’s was always scrumptious and plentiful.

Blending together the nuances of Kara and human cuisine, his dishes often resulted in pleasing combinations of flavours that suited everyone’s palate. Today, the table was spread with a heaping serving of twelve-herb grilled pork, a huge bowl of fresh greens from the market, a pot of savoury potato and vegetable soup, and a tall bottle of aged apple cider.

Ukai liked to start off his meals with soup. He loudly slurped down the creamy broth and the softened tubers altogether, draining his bowl cleanly to the last drop. Afterwards, he carved out a thick cut of meat from the bone and sliced it effortlessly into large chunks to chew on. Finally, he washed it all down with a mouthful of cider.

Hinata and Kageyama scarfed down their food with gusto like ravenous hyenas – it didn’t matter what it was they put in their mouths, for it was all delicious – and burned their tongues on the piping hot soup. They never did learn to slow down and cool off their food.

Daichi ate modestly and alternated eating meat with vegetables, sometimes taking a swig of soup in between when he needed more flavour. He often reminded the kids to eat their greens and helped them cut up their steaks when it got too tough to chew.

Oikawa behaved like a proper gentleman as he ate. He made no uncouth clinks or clangs with his cutlery, carefully portioned his food into bite-sized mouthfuls, and chewed with his mouth closed. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin to banish any stray droplets from his flawless appearance, and finished his plate of whatever food he had taken.

Iwa-chan sat on the floor beside Oikawa in beast form, decimating a whole pork leg with his crushing jaws and making a whole lot of cracking noises in the process. He gobbled the leg up in a matter of minutes, and cleanly licked his paws and fur clean of grease when he was done.

“Oh, right. Is Suga not eating?” asked Oikawa when he noticed the Kara’s absence.

“No, he’s on a strictly fluid diet.” Ukai replied while chewing.

“Ah, that’s a shame,” he sighed regretfully, ignoring Daichi’s dagger-like glares. “I wanted to chat a little more with him.”

“Is the food to your liking? Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.” The Kara asked.

“Certainly. Your cooking is exquisite - nothing like the food you get in this town.”

“Ah, I’m an alright cook. We get the ingredients fresh, that’s why.”

Hinata forked a piece of meat and quietly hovered it below the table. Iwa-chan noticed, and snatched it up in one well-aimed bite.

“You humble yourself. Most restaurateurs here can’t hold a candle to you.”

Tickled, the boy lowered down another piece.

“I’ll set up my own diner when I get sick of birds, then,” Ukai laughed, “It’ll be much more profitable, for sure.”

And another.

“So, how did you become a doctor?” Oikawa asked.

And another.

“Long story. My folks were doctors, so I carried on the family trade.”

And another, until Kageyama ratted them out.

“Daichi, Hinata’s feeding the dog his food,” he complained.

Daichi looked over at Iwa-chan, whose canine expression was remorseless.

“Hinata, finish your share before you give it away, okay?” he said, then cut another chunk of meat and placed it on the boy’s plate.

“Okay. He likes it, though.” Hinata grinned happily and swung his legs. Oikawa ruffled the pup’s head and chided, “Let the growing kid have his food, Iwa-chan. You’ll get fat at this rate.”

“Oikawa, what is Iwa-chan, anyway?” Ukai asked the man.

“He’s a kind of werewolf.” Oikawa said, and then winked at Hinata.

Skeptical, the man took a few extra bites on his food. “Werewolf? Huh. I’ve never seen one, but the books don’t draw them like that.”

The mage shrugged and continued scratching Iwa-chan’s chin lazily. The hound obliged to his master’s whim, giving in to his sweet spot. “He’s a rare kind. Not every member of a race is the same, after all. Just like a grey Kara, yes?”

“Of course.” Ukai shrugged back. Except that he didn’t recall werewolves having black, leathery wings. “Do all mages have familiars like you do?”

“No, only beast tamers do. There are many kinds of mages, you see, not only those who command familiars.”

Hinata then asked, “Like what? Can they shoot lightning out of their hands?”

Oikawa laughed gaily and smoothed back his fringe. “No, silly! In theory we could, but that level of magic is too powerful for mortals to control.”

“So they’d fry themselves if they tried?” The child giggled at the thought, and the man grinned and booped his nose.

“Even the Grand Invoker himself couldn’t, you know. And he could do almost anything! You’d have to be a god, for sure.”

“Hey, we know someone who can.” Kageyama said, and Oikawa looked at him with interest. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to this crow yet.

“Oh? And who is that?” he asked.

“He’s called Nishinoya.”

“Yeah, he’s a really short deity.” Hinata added.

Suddenly, a booming roll of thunder roared off in the distance, and everyone stared out the window at once.

“Is that him?” asked the mage, amused.

“Must be. I’m only telling the truth, so don’t get mad!” Hinata yelled upwards, and Daichi covered the boy’s mouth with a sigh. “Don’t say that, or we’re gonna have to pay him a visit again.” He wondered if he had to re-explain the word ‘blasphemy’ to him.

And of course, Ukai hadn’t been briefed about their encounter with the short Tengu, so they had to tell the both of them the whole tale. Hinata and Kageyama were rather enthusiastic to do most of the talking, so Daichi let them and occasionally stepped in to clarify. They started right from when Daichi fell down the cliff, and acted out their utter surprise when they first met the deity. But right when they were getting to the interesting bits, a faint chime of a bell came from the bedroom, and Daichi excused himself from the table to answer it.

“He’s better trained than you.” Oikawa remarked snarkily to Iwa-chan, who rolled his eyes.

Entering through the curtains, Daichi looked at Suga with a smile and said, “You called?”

The Kara seemed more tired than usual, but it couldn't be helped. Having to drink honeyed tea alone for the past few days didn't give him a lot of energy to work with.

"Sorry," Suga spoke quietly, "You haven't finished your dinner, right?"

"It's alright." Daichi replied. He noticed the empty glass, and took it. "I'll get you some more water. Anything else?"

He shook his head.

Returning with a full glass, Daichi set it back down and asked for Suga's wrist. His skin felt cold, but his pulse was normal. His forehead felt fine, too, but it looked like he was shivering a little every now and then.

“Do feel uncomfortable? Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little,” replied Suga.

“I’ll see if there are more blankets.” Daichi said and closed the windows, shutting out the draft. The sky was almost pitch black by now as the rumbling clouds clustered together in a island of grey. They weren’t a by-product of Nishinoya’s wrath, to be sure - just nature’s.

Alas, though towels were in abundant supply, there weren’t any more blankets to be found. Fortunately, Ukai had a much better solution. From the crowded shed he picked up a small round ball of black feathers from a pile of similar-looking ones. The creature retained its fuzzy, globular shape as he held it, and it fit snugly in his palm like a lump of coal.

“This little buddy here’s a coalbird. It’s obvious why they’re called that – c’mon, just look at it – and also because they’re naturally very warm.” he explained to Daichi and Suga.

Nudging the top of its head with his finger, Ukai woke the bird. It gave the tiniest of sneezes upon being disturbed, and then chirped angrily at him and tried to fly off—but the man held it fast between his cupped hands.

“Hey, hey, sorry to wake you, bud. I just need a quick favour.” said Ukai to the bird.

It tweeted once in a questioning tone and calmed down.

“Could you sleep here with this man for a while?”

The coalbird looked at Suga, blinking rapidly and cocking its head this way and that. It then chirruped something lengthy back at Ukai which sounded like a very unthreatening interrogation. Every single time Daichi observed Ukai conversing with a bird, it was like watching him talk to himself like a madman.

“Yes, yes, you don’t have to worry. All you have to do is sit under that nice, comfy blanket, and be yourself. Just get your friend to replace you when you’re done.”

As if in agreement it wiggled its short tail, then hopped out of his hands and walked slowly up to Suga’s chest.

Suga watched it intently and a small rush of delight came over him. “It’s so tiny,” he whispered, and the bird tried saying something to Suga. When he didn’t respond, the bird repeated its chirp twice, then looked confusedly up at Ukai. The doctor shrugged at the coalbird and translated its words for him.

“She’s asking you if you’ve cleaned your feathers already. She’s very particular about hygiene.”

Suga nodded and replied to the coalbird, “Yes, Daichi helped me earlier.”

Satisfied with his answer, it nestled on top of his chest and poked its walnut-sized head out from under the blanket. It closed its beady yellow eyes and rested its head on him, a movement so insignificant that he barely felt it. Its little body radiated warmth like a portable heater, and soon it felt all cozy and warm underneath the sheets. Suga dared not touch it - though he very much yearned to as he found it immeasurably adorable. It was so small, soft, and light that it seemed like the slightest nudge would bruise it, much like a strawberry.

“You can’t understand what it’s saying? I thought all Karas could.” Daichi asked and Suga shook his head, his gaze transfixed on the bird.

“It’s just like any other language. You have to learn it.” Ukai said. “I think they’ll get along fine anyway, even if they don’t understand each other.”

Smiling, Suga closed his eyes alongside the bird and sighed peacefully, “She’s so warm.”

“See?” the blonde grinned and gestured at the heart-warming scene, “No problem.”

And having one less thing to worry about was important, for tonight it seemed like trouble would stir at a moment’s notice. The brewing storm hit the house shortly after dinner, and the rain began pouring down heavily in droves. Thunder crackled across the sky, and lightning split the heavens into brilliant white fissures. Soon, Oikawa foretold, the Carcamas would take advantage of the confusion and darkness of this wretched night and strike. Iwa-chan had already sensed a large gathering of beings within Kabeki Forest, but that was the only point of certainty.

Lying in wait in the cold and wet, Daichi, Oikawa, and Iwa-chan hid themselves behind the barricaded fence that was erected a few metres away from the house. The rest took shelter inside and turned out all the lights except for the oil lamps hanging from the front porch, making the entrance look like a shining lighthouse in the middle of a sea of black.

Just what the mage wanted.

“You really don’t have to do anything, Daichi. We’ll take care of it.” Oikawa yelled over while taking cover from the rain underneath Iwa-chan. The hound was wholly focused on detecting the enemy, his ears swivelling about as he sat unperturbed by the rain pelting his coat.

“I’m not going to sit around and do nothing when I can defend this place.” Daichi replied and docked his arrow. The hood pulled over his brows kept the water out and his sight clear.

“With that thing? In this weather?” Oikawa scoffed.

Level-headed, Daichi cricked his neck and loosened his shoulders. “Don’t worry about me.”

The mage snorted, unconvinced, and took out his whip. “Suit yourself. Just don’t get in my way.”

“Silence.” Iwa-chan commanded with his deep voice and got off his hind legs. “They’re making a move.”

The two humans tensed up at once and peered out from cover. They could barely see or hear anything through the blasted torrent.

“How many of them are there?” Oikawa asked and squinted his eyes.

“I’m not sure. Twenty, maybe thirty,” he replied. Daichi gulped and clutched his bow tightly. That number was far above their estimates.

Then, Iwa-chan’s ears pointed at attention and his eyes glowed red. “Something’s coming.”

Far off in the fields, he heard the swift thumping of a heart that drew closer and closer.

“One.” he murmured, and took a step forward.

“Only one?” The hunter said, and stood up to draw his bow.

Oikawa frowned and stood as well. “Stand down. Iwa-chan’s got this.”

“Why don’t we save the best for last?” Daichi replied calmly and took aim. The mage couldn’t argue with that. He clicked his tongue and sulked on top of the fence, and Iwa-chan took that as confirmation to yield. A job was still a job, however, and he would assist where Daichi was lacking.

“It’s halfway through the field and straight ahead. When will you shoot?” the hound asked.

“A hundred metres.” Daichi said, accepting his help. He could almost make out a moving object in the blurring rain, and he adjusted his arm.

“Understood. At this speed, about fifteen seconds until it arrives.”

Daichi breathed out and closed his eyes briefly.

He couldn’t kill the lynx back then in the forest, but this time would be different.

“Ten seconds.”

A wide open field was child’s play to someone like him. All the times he skipped school really paid off.

“Five.”

What was a little rain and wind but distractions in the hunt?

“Four.”

He even had someone telling him where the target was.

“Three.”

All he had to do was pull back the string—

“Two.”

Take a good, hard look at the cat’s eyes—

“One.”

And let his arrow fly.

The spear sliced through the air with a short whistle, and after a few seconds of suspense, the strangled cry of a Carcama sounded off in the distance.

“It’s dead.” Iwa-chan reported after a moment, no longer hearing the beating of its heart. Yet another soul bound for the underworld, he thought.

“Are there more?” asked Daichi, already ready for the next one. But Iwa-chan shook his head and jogged off beyond the fence. Dragging the heavy carcass into the compound between his jaws, he dropped it off between the two men with a muddy splash and spat out the foul-tasting blood. There, they saw the Carcama’s ghastly face which was locked in eternal surprise, undoubtedly at the arrow that drove itself right between its eyes. The arrowhead emerged from the base of its skull, and whatever brain matter that had burst from the hole had long been washed away.

“Well, well, that was a clean kill.” Oikawa remarked, seemingly unimpressed.

“They’re retreating,” Iwa-chan said with a flick of his tail, “I can’t detect them anymore.”

Pulling out the arrow with a hard tug, Daichi frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. Carcamas don’t attack one by one, and they won’t just leave their friend here.”

“But that was the case last night, and so were the attacks from before. This strange behaviour must have an explanation.” Oikawa said and rubbed his chin thoughtfully, toying with an idea in his mind. “Let’s discuss that indoors, shall we? My socks are getting all soggy.”

No one argued with that.

Once inside, Ukai had many towels but no clues to give.

“I don’t know what to say. They should have destroyed this place a long time ago, but they haven’t. They’ve just come and gone in different places, picking people at random to maul.”

“But is it really, as you say, random?” Oikawa suggested while drying off his wet hair. With just his undershirt and long pants on, the mage’s appearance was a departure from his usually prim and proper self; but still no fault could be found in his enduring charisma.

Hinata took joy in chasing Iwa-chan around with a dry towel, and Kageyama had turned in for the day. The fireplace smouldered with a fresh log that was just beginning to catch the continuing flame.

“What do you mean?” the Kara asked and lit up a cigarette. He looked like he needed three of those.

“Well, what if all they’re doing is in preparation for something bigger?”

Daichi raised an eyebrow. “You mean, they’re planning for a huge attack?”

“They’re not that smart,” Ukai frowned, brushing off the idea.

Oikawa pointed a tentative finger upwards and leaned onto the dining table. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, gentlemen. They have, despite their odd behaviour, been moving in a definite direction. If we were to plot out their attacks and apply logic to the situation—“ he took out a rolled-up map of the town from inside his coat, “—we can see what they’re trying to do.”

Ukai spread the parchment out onto the table and took a closer look at the crosses marked onto it. Then, he realized what Oikawa was trying to say. Every single attack had happened on the outskirts of town, and the crosses were forming what resembled a ring around the entire settlement. The only spot where a glaring space was left was the clinic, right on the other side of town where the first kill occurred.

“Are you saying… they’re testing us?” Ukai concluded.

“Either that, or they’re just playing with you. Cats, am I right?” Oikawa replied jokingly, then waltzed around the table as he spoke. “Every assault so far has been simple. One or two Carcamas sneak into a house in the middle of the night – they did it once during the day, actually – then kill a few people, and leave without the villagers putting up much of a fight.”

Ukai looked up grimly, his palms flat on the map. “Yes. We haven’t managed to take down a single Carcama, and they always run away after making a kill. They don’t eat the bodies.”

Oikawa continued, “It makes sense to say that they’ve been poking around to see where town’s defences are at. They could have come all at once, but they decided to cover their bases and gauge the strength of their enemies. But, even if we don’t know what their real strategy is, we can be sure that they’re not here for food or for fun. So, it can only be—“

“For territory.” Daichi finished his sentence.

“Bingo.” He snapped his fingers. “You’re smarter than you look.”

The doctor combed through his hair and puffed out a long breath of smoke. He left his unruly fringe hanging over his face, and then stubbed out his cigarette on the table. “Fine. Let’s say they are here to take over. Then, what’s causing them to do so? A human settlement isn’t a home for Carcamas.” he murmured.

“You’re asking the right questions, doctor.” Oikawa smiled and tapped his fingers on the table. “That brings us back to their unnaturally organized behaviour.”

Oikawa then caught Hinata in his tracks and pinched his cheeks, stopping the assault on his poor puppy.

“Someone - or something - is leading them,” declared the mage.

“And now that they know there’s someone capable of stopping them, they won’t sit idly by.”

But who could lead a battalion of bloodthirsty cats?

#among the crows #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu au #haikyuu fanfiction #ao3 #daisuga #daisuga fanfic #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime

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