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#meaning he can summon it and use it as a battering ram in fights
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Phantom Driver/Punch it Old Man!
Danny and Danni on The Ghost Bike. Featuring Bottle the Bunny Backpack.
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andtheyreonfire · 9 months
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and i know
Ao3
Wc - 2002
An: You can find the brief explanation for this AU in the Ao3 link! I was gonna make a post explaining it in full but. Ehh. The gist of it is also explained throughout the course of the fic :>
~
Y’know, it’s funny how graceful Joker is, even while 4 feet tall.
He barely comes up to Ryuji’s chest, despite wearing heels. His proportions are more a teenager’s than a child, but he reminds Ryuji of one all the same. He’s still figuring out the Persona thing. Whichever one he has—equipped, to sound like an RPG—directly corresponds to his height. The smaller the Persona, the smaller the Joker, and vice-versa.
The Persona equipped now is…some type of fairy, maybe? Definitely a fae, at least. Considering one of his others was the size of a building and another the size of Ryuji’s middle finger—well, this is a happy medium. At least he doesn’t look as small in the massive, sprawling palace as the cat-thing does, but Ryuji’s still looking down a fair bit just to meet his eyes.
It’d be funny if he still didn’t look sick as hell even while being 4 feet tall. His cape billows behind him, his hand curves around a wicked-sharp blade, his every step kicks up splashes of pink-red-purple.
Joker stops, abruptly, to duck behind a corner. The rest of the thieves pile around him, Ryuji hovering above Joker and Panther, while Mona flanks the other side. They’re near the exit, and compared to the rooms they just exited, this one almost looks like it could be normal sized. At least, if the ceiling wasn’t nearly six stories tall. Still, it’s reminiscent more of a ballroom than an actual, giant’s castle. Small enough to soothe Ryuji’s nerves, but large enough to remind him of the ego of that effing bastard—
“One more?” Joker whispers, nodding at the shadow prowling the hall. It looks small enough—meaning it could fit into Ryuji’s house and only mildly destroy his walls in the process. The team gives a collective nod. Ryuji’s hand twitches to his bat. What’s one more fight? The longer Ryuji can avoid doing homework, the better.
Joker lunges forward, lightning fast and dead-silent, before springing onto the shadow like a cat pouncing on its prey.
The shadow splits into 3 forms, each of them weaklings. Ryuji grins. Only one of them’s over 20 feet—the emo unicorn—while the others were about 9 and 13 feet. Easy fight, compared to the absolute bullshit they’ve seen in this place.
Ryuji summons Captin Kidd with a shout, hopping on the mini-ship the second it spawned in. The gang all had extra abilities their Personas granted them. Panther could occasionally spawn minion...things, and Mona’s flew over Ryuji’s head so many times he stopped bothering to explain it. Ryuji doesn’t give a shit. Using a ship as a hoverboard, mowing into shadows like he’s playing GTA? Now that’s where it’s at.
Ryuji hops onto the ship, blue flames coiling off of it like smoke. He watches lightning strike the unicorn’s face. He floors it, about to finish it off—
Only to stop, re-adjust, and barrel forward, conscious of the small weight that grabbed onto the ship’s hull. Ryuji spares a glance downward to see Joker with his grappling hook in hand. He gives Ryuji a grin when he meets his gaze, sharp and shiny as a knife.
Ryuji summons the Captain, braces himself at the extra force of speed as he pushes him forward, and slams into the side of the unicorn. It recoils, letting out a pained cry that threatens to split Ryuji’s head open. It locks eyes with Ryuji, rears its head back like a battering ram—
Only for a massive, gloved hand to wrap around its face, and for a proportionally-sized gun to dig in the unicorn’s cheek. Joker isn’t as big as the creature—probably just under 20 feet—but he’s big enough to wrap his arms around it, tug it back, and pull it clean it out of Ryuji’s ship. He fires a few bullets directly into its face, and it disintegrates in a shower of ash.
They turn their attention to the other two enemies, which Panther and Mona are handling—spectacularly well, actually. Ryuji drifts over to them, watching as Joker sheds about half his height to attack Mona’s enemy. It goes down with a single curse skill.
Panther’s dies the next second in a burst of flame. Joker stands over Mona with his hands in his pockets, completely cool as the cat groans, “Joker, you stole my kill!”
“You were taking too long, anyways.” Panther saunters over to the group, beginning the arduous process of re-furling her whip. “I don’t know about you, but I wanna go home.”
Joker adjusts his gloves, looking unbothered as Ryuji’s ever seen him. Mona rolls his weird bug-eyes. “We’re close to the entrance. If we’re done here, I guess we can move o—“
A massive, dark shadow falls over Ryuji, and that’s the only warning he gets before a critical hit strikes into him, throwing him clean off his ship.
Ryuji wheezes, spots dancing in his vision, obscuring the blurry shapes of his teammates. Panther’s limbs are frozen to her sides. She sails across the room when a physical skill knocks her clean out. Mona dodges around several lightning strikes, assisting Joker in taking down not one, but two Andras, both at least 30 feet tall.
God—dammit! Where the fuck did they even come from? Ryuji heaves, face set in a grimace. Considering the shakiness of his limbs and that he feels like he got hit by a truck, he’s one solid hit away from joining Panther. He steels himself, managing to prop up on too-weak limbs—
Only for a clawed, rough hand to pick him up by the scruff. He kicks his legs where they dangle, but can only freeze when the Andras’s other claws wrap around his neck.
Lifted some 20 feet off the ground, he has the perfect view to see Mona collapse, just as he was about to nail the other bird. God, dammit.
The Andras dangling him speaks up, in a voice that sounds like a seagull knocked back a handful of gravel. “I propose a trade—your money, or your friend’s life.”
Joker stands his ground, and—shit, is he knocked out too, or can Ryuji just not see his face? It’s, like, weirdly blank. The shadow continues, “I am capable of displaying mercy. However, if you do not chose—“
It doesn’t get the chance to finish.
Ryuji doesn’t get the chance to grasp his bearings, doesn’t get the chance to do much of anything as a massive, dark sea blooms across his vision. The void lurches forward, a flash of blood red protruding, grasping, slamming into the shadow holding him. Ryuji pushes off as much as he can and rolls to the side, groaning all the while. He forces his eyes open, before sucking in a breath that’s less from pain and more from—from—
Joker towers over him, over the shadows, head scraping the ceiling even hunched down because he’s, what, 80 feet tall? Ryuji follows the long—long—stretch of his arm, ending at a massive, gleaming knife, poised at the Andras’ neck. In one swift movement, Joker fishes his gun out and snipes the other, barely glancing in it’s direction as it turns to dust.
Ryuji claps his hands over his ears, the burst of sound pounding into his skull. Joker shifts, again, and the creak of the floor might as well be an earthquake. Ryuji feels his veins turn to ice.
The Andras is completely pinned. Joker’s arm might be—no, is definitely longer than its entire body. It seems to convulse, be it from frustration or fear. Joker brings his arm up to pin it further, at just the right angle that Ryuji still can see its gigantic, snarling face.
And here’s the thing—Joker doesn’t really talk during combat. For a strategy? Sure. To summon his Persona? Duh. After fights? Maybe, if he feels like it. But this time—this time, he leans forward, casting a long, dark shadow. He opens his mouth, and a booming voice shakes Ryuji to his core. “I am capable of displaying mercy, which is why your death will be swift.”
Here’s the thing—Joker’s face is usually expressive, alight with adrenaline, smugness, or flair. He’s a dashing gentleman thief—and a teenager who just got gifted incredibly sick superpowers. His lips are always curled in a slight smirk, eyes gleaming dark and, at times, bloodthirsty. He’s determined when the battle is tough, and unbearably cocky when he puts a shadow in its place. While hard to read in the real world, the Metaverse is where he can truly fly free.
Joker’s face right now, looming so, so far above Ryuji, is completely, utterly blank.
Andras struggles, but Joker’s arm doesn’t move an inch. The knife strikes home. The shadow disintegrates with a choked sound. The world itself seems to shift as Joker settles back on his haunches. For a second, Ryuji catches a flicker of something else in those eyes, hidden behind a mask almost as long as he is—but it’s gone, like the shadow’s ashes in the wind.
Joker shifts down to about 10 feet, and a healing light washes over Morgana and Ann. The same passes over him, and Ryuji springs up, following behind Joker. The image of him—the size of a skyscraper and pinning down an impossibly large enemy with a knife like an executioner’s blade—burns in his mind’s eye.
“Is everyone all right?” Joker asks, quiet but still ringing in Ryuji’s ears, as if he hadn’t shrunk down. He’s looking at them with an unwavering intensity, and Ryuji can’t help but freeze, just a little bit, when his gaze locks onto him, too.
Except—he gasps, barrels forward, and tugs down an arm that’s almost the length of his body. “Dude! You didn’t tell us you were injured, too!”
Joker blinks down at his arm, before wincing, as if the pain of a massive, very deep gash finally caught up to him. He doesn’t have a second to feel it before someone heals him. His brow furrows. “Mona, your SP—“
“Can it. I know we all took a pretty nasty fall, but you gotta tell us if you’re injured, too! We’re almost out of here, anyways.” A run and a jump, and Ryuji watches Morgana settle onto Ren’s shoulder. “I can help keep an eye out for shadows. I bet you’re pretty exhausted, huh?”
Ren looks like he wants to protest, but he makes no move to shove Morgana off, nor to yank back his arm where Ryuji’s—pretty much holding his hand. “I’m fine—“
“No, we’re leaving, and we’re all supporting each other on the wall out.” Ann comes around and grabs Ren’s other hand, looking even more comically small against him than Ryuji does. “Before you try that self-sacrificial shit—again—and blame yourself, none of us were prepared for the reinforcements. We’ll all be more alert, next time. We’re sorry. Thank you for saving our asses.”
She tugs Ren’s hand forward, actually causing him to trip over his feet. “Now let’s gooo I’m starving.” She bats her eyelashes. “How can beauty prosper without a proper meal?”
“Uh,” Ryuji butts in, because he can, “I just saw you shove, like, an entire big bang meal into your mouth last safe room. How the hell’re you hungry?”
“How aren’t you? You barely had any snacks during the last break! What, you too manly or something?”
“I was tryina to conserve rations, unlike a certain someone—“
“—Oh, here we go again—“
“I’ll tell them to shut up once we find the next shadow,” Morgana mutters to Ren. “Sorry, again, we left you like that.”
Ryuji doesn’t hear what Ren says in response, but, if anything, he lets Ryuji and Ann drag him a little easier, stupidly long legs be damned. It almost soothes the memory of him, swift and massive, avenging his friends with ruthless efficiency. Almost.
Hopefully Ren knows they’re here for him, too.
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drowsydregon · 4 years
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Tiny Ninjago Facts - The Third Edition
hey children it’s that time again, buckle in and get ready for all the really dumb/minuscule stuff i know
> Nya's favorite color is said to be blue in the pilots, but she later says in s5 that it’s red.
> Despite Cole being a terrible chef, he actually managed to make pretty decent snogfruit punch in s1.
> Morro doesn’t actually know spinjitsu. One reason he possessed Lloyd (besides spite and power) was because 'only a spinjitsu master can find the tomb.' In turn, he can't do airjitsu on his own either, since it’s implied you have to know spinjitsu to do airjitsu
> On a similar note, Morro can’t summon his own elemental dragon without possessing someone who can because he never conquered his greatest fears. This also means that the dragon Morro used to get around was a corrupted energy dragon, not a wind dragon.
> Nya is the Ninja that’s most prone to crying in response to grief. Lloyd and Jay aren’t too far behind.
> Jay has very sensitive ears.
> Acronix makes up sayings all the time, and Krux hates it.
> Acronix is protective of people he legitimately cares about - He even paused while fighting the Smiths just to make sure Krux was okay
> Zane likes to give credit where credit is due, even if he doesn't like somebody. He called Clouse's pet's strategy to eat him and Cole "very clever." And he also complimented the names of the vermillion warriors based on how well he thought they fit, and even defended it when Jay said he hated the name.
> Zane had a battering ram feature that hasn't been used since s2
> According to Way of the Departed, one of Ronin's aliases is "Elon Ron."
> Morro and Kai have both been implied to drink alcohol on-screen. Going back to WotD, Ronin explicitly states he drowns his self-loathing in booze.
> Clouse has absolutely decimated Chen in ping-pong before.
> Cole has a strong tendency to talk to himself.
> Lloyd can be a bit of a slob sometimes. In s4, he left his magazines and takeout on his bedroom floor, and didn’t bother to clean it up before he left for Chen’s Island.
> Lloyd and Garmadon almost always wore matching color schemes when they were more in sync, but opposing color schemes when they were on opposing sides: Lloyd wore black and purple for Garm throughout s1, then he wore green and gold throughout s2 while Garm stayed the same. Then Garmadon wore green and gold for Lloyd s3-7. Now Garmadon wears black and dark blue for Harumi, while Lloyd still wears green and gold.
> It’s implied Kai takes laxatives.
> Dareth is actually really good at makeup, and is a master of the air-guitar.
> Lloyd bites his lip when he’s nervous/embarrassed.
> The Mechanic’s outline can be seen in Kryptarium in s4. This implies that he was arrested before Chen was even banished.
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kitkat1003 · 3 years
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On the Issue of Mortality
AO3 Link
Chapter 2: Whether weather whether weather, whether you're invulnerable or not!
“Hey, I’ll have you know that I can control my powers now!  The only downside is I’m not invincible anymore, sooo I could die.”
“WHAT?!”
Same, Pigsy.  Same.
Monkey King doesn’t do much, when it comes to his successor.  Not at first.
Sure, he watches the Kid from time to time, just to see what’s going on.  Which isn’t creepy, not at all, it’s just...well, how else is he supposed to check on Kid?  Besides, he’s not watching him 24/7, and he can tell when the Kid is in trouble now, from the flare of power he feels whenever Kid is using the staff or some other ability.
Sometimes, though, there’s no fight.  Like when he lets Mei shoot rockets at him.  Comical as it is, he can tell Kid is letting all this power get to his head.
But hey, why not?  Kid beat DBK, let him have a little fun.  Monkey King isn’t going to knock him for that, not when he did much worse back in his day.  Way worse
Yeah...he really had an arc, didn’t he.
He lets it go until he feels a massive flare, one that definitely isn’t controlled.  He summons nimbus and heads off, and finds Kid in a crater of his own making, looking lost.
Then, Kid tries to shove the whole “stopping the bad guys” thing onto him, and, like, hello??  He gave Kid the staff for a reason.  He’s retired.  Totally, definitely retired.
“Every time I try to do something I just gunk everything up!  Something’s wrong...” There’s something deeper to those words, more vulnerable and hurt than Monkey King is ready for.  He isn’t Kid’s dad.
Wait, does Kid even have a dad?  Is that something he needs to be concerned about?  Whatever, the Kid’s at least eighteen, he’s an adult.  Adults don’t need dads.  Monkey King didn’t need one, just look at him.  He’s the great Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, the Monkey King.  Who needs parents?
Monkey King gets up, hops on the Kid’s shoulders to get a closer look, as well as groom the kid a little, because his hair is a mess.  Humans have all these advancements with soap and showers and they can’t even get their hair clean.  Clearly, monkeys have it figured out.  Nothing gets someone cleaner than a good grooming.  And hey, he finds a little snack in there!
He uses his golden vision of his for a second as he grooms Kid, and, yup.
There’s the problem.
Making the Kid freak out a little is all for fun, but the root of the issue is something Monkey King didn’t want to have to deal with.  A general lack of martial arts skill is easy, you just teach them the basics and work from there.  What’s wrong with Kid is going to take a lot more work, emotional work, and Monkey King didn’t think he’d have to expend that sort of energy for this.
 The issue, of course, is simple.  Lack of self confidence.
“I have self confidence!”
“Nope.  You’re just loud.” And that’s the thing, Monkey King understands.  He was always loud but he was confident not long after.  Then again, he got his powers gradually.  Poor Kid has them all at once, probably hard to find the confidence for all of that out of nowhere.
Jeez.  Why’d he have to pick the Kid with baggage?
Fake it till you make it is what Kid says, and he wants to scream, because that isn’t how it works.  If it was, then everyone could use the staff.  It takes a specific breed of something that Monkey King knows the Kid has, but isn’t letting out.  Self confidence, at its core, comes from a strong foundation.  If Kid doesn’t have that, then they have to start from scratch, which takes time.
And he’s not that annoyed, he’s willing to wait, but the Kid isn’t.  And, sure, yeah, there’s the thing with Red Son (and holy shit, Red Son?  That brat is still around?  He’s not using the fire, but still) and the Kid’s friends, but they would be fine!  Probably.  He doesn’t think they’re that incompetent.
But the Kid isn’t satisfied with that so he insists, and Monkey King pulls out a card he doesn’t want to play.
Control over your powers for the price of invincibility.  Seriously, if it were him, he’d never. He likes living, thanks.  But then again, this Kid is apparently loyal to a fault, because not two seconds after he gives out the idea the Kid is taking it.
And he’s confident, when he seals away the Kid’s powers, but inside he’s terrified.
Suddenly, this Kid can get hurt, can die.  This Kid could get hit by a car or smashed by a demon or fall to a host of any other preventable death scenarios because he’s vulnerable now.
And the thing is, Kid doesn’t seem to care?  As if the idea of facing unknown horrors with the added bonus of being able to die is just a regular Tuesday, nothing to worry about.  Which, that is so, so weird, and startling and Monkey King is a little proud that he picked a student so selfless, so willing to face mortality for the sake of keeping others safe.
But is it even selflessness or a lack of self worth?  A lack of self confidence is bad enough, but he doesn’t even know if Kid thinks he’s got value and that’s far more concerning to him than it ought to be.
He’s also got a lot of anxiety now, because he has to watch this Kid, to make sure he doesn’t die randomly.  Great.
He flies the Kid to the weather tower, because time is of the essence, and he watches.  Every wrong step the Kid takes, he tenses.  Every slip up, as Bull Clones go flying and chase after him, as Red Son rushes him—Sun Wukong clenches his fists and physically stops himself from jumping in.  He’s retired.  Kid’s gotta learn to clean up his own messes.
Kid is actually pretty good at using the staff to block blows.  Offensive fighting with it is slow going, though, and Monkey King files that away for plans of future training.  He watches the Kid run towards the control panel and the Bull Clones close in, and, for a split second, he feels a little flare.
Golden vision.  It flickers in the Kid’s eyes and he doesn’t know what the Kid sees, but Monkey King is sure it’s enough.
Or maybe not, as the Kid gets dog piled on by Bull Clones, Red Son jumping on top of the pile.
Monkey King holds his breath, wondering if he should step in—because he knows Kid needs to learn but what’s the point of learning if you die in the process—and then.
Then.
He lets out a sigh of relief and heads out as lightning strikes the staff, watching the Kid duck behind the control panel to avoid the shock, the explosion.  Smart.  He always used brute force.  Good to know Kid has a head on those shoulders that have more use than just a battering ram.
He vanishes into the horizon as the skies clear, back to Flowering Fruit Mountain.  Once there, he takes a deep breath, eats a few peaches.  Lays back on his cloud and grooms a monkey or two to try and destress.
It doesn’t work.  Dammit.  His successor is mortal and vulnerable.  This is going to add, like, 5 times the effort he thought he would have to put into training this kid.  He has to be careful.  He has to be cautious.  He can’t just throw things at the kid and expect him to be fine.
Okay.  This is fine.  Is it?  Maybe.  Probably not.
Because if the Kid is going to really take up his mantle, he’s going to have to deal with the enemies that come with it.  Which means dangerous demons, creatures Monkey King doesn’t dare name, all sorts of dangers that can easily kill someone, if that someone isn’t invulnerable.
He has to give the Kid space, can’t smother him, doesn’t want to.  But how is he supposed to breathe easy when his successor can die any time?
Clones, maybe?  But those always come back to mess with him if he keeps them around for too long.  And he’s an easily bored guy, his clones need action.  He doesn’t think babysitting will make them happy.
Ugh, he needs a nap.  If he can even find it in himself to sleep, with all these thoughts and questions.
He’ll figure it out.  He always does, in the end.
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raeynbowboi · 4 years
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BnHA Crossover Class 1-A
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I saw a post this morning about the Teen Titans in UA, and it got me thinking about the quirks that would be found with other characters, so I cobbled together a class of 20 students from popular media, and tried to either turn their existing powers into quirks, or gave them quirks. It was a lot of fun, and I’m thinking of doing a class 1-B as well.
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Name: Dick Grayson Hero Alias: Robin Quirk: Deductive Reasoning When Dick touches things, he can deduce their origins. He can tell the sort of gun that made bullet holes, whether something was written with the right or left hand, the way a knife was held while attacking a victim, or the height and weight of a culprit by finding their footprint. This makes Dick an expert in criminal profiling.
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Name: Koriand’r (Corey Anders) Hero Alias: Starfire Quirk: Heartfelt Koriand’r’s quirk relies heavily on her emotions. She must be feeling a certain way to make use of her quirk, and cannot summon her powers unless she feels that way. To fly, she must think happy thoughts. For super strength, she needs boundless confidence. And for her starbolts, she must have a righteous fury.
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Name: Garfield Logan Hero Name: Beast Boy Quirk: Animal Kingdom Garfield can turn into any animal he has seen before, but he can only copy the features of the animal that he knows about. This can include extinct and fictitious animals, but in order to become those, he must understand their biology and genetic make-up. Creating wings is pointless if he doesn’t know how to make them aerodynamic. This also means he can’t produce a dragon’s fire breath unless he can figure out a biological process to achieve this. Due to a mutation quirk he inherited, Garfield and any animal he becomes are permanently green.
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Name: Rachel Roth Hero Alias: Raven Quirk: Psychic Soul Rachel’s soul is a semi-conscious entity within her. It is highly sensitive to the presence and emotions of others, and due to its link to Rachel, allows her to feel these sensations through her soul. This means she can tell how many people are in an area, and what they’re feeling. She can send pieces of her soul out into objects, allowing her to lift them with her mind, giving her telekinetic powers, or she can project the soul itself to create platforms, forcefields, or a bird-shaped battering ram. She can even use her telekinesis to lift herself, floating through the air, or envelop herself in her own soul and pass through solid objects. She requires daily meditation to focus and sharpen her mind, or risk letting her psychic powers become destructive and untamed.
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Name: Victor Stone Hero Alias: Cyborg Quirk: Mechanical Infusion Vic has the ability to fuse technology into his body, a quirk which saved his life after his sports team bus had an accident and he was almost a casualty. The hospital technology infused with his body, and kept him alive. Since then, he’s focused on upgrading and improving his cybernetic enhancements, with a wide variety of technological detachments and gadgets built into his body. But his pride and joy is the sonic cannon he designed himself. While he can infuse any machine into his body, he’d be a horrible mechanical blob if he didn’t know how to compartmentalize. He maintains his humanoid appearance by understanding how to fold and store things inside of himself to fit as much in without overstuffing himself.
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Name: Ruby Rose Hero Alias: Black Rose Quirk: Petal Storm Ruby’s quirk allows her to turn her body into a scattering of rose petals that move at a windswept speed. The petals can separate to move around objects, but must come back together for her to take human form again.
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Name: Weiss Schnee Hero Alias: Ice Queen Quirk: Fairydust Weiss’ body naturally produces Dust, primarily in the form of powder. She has outfitted her revolver rapier to turn this dust into a variety of magical attacks. With enough dust, she can even create glyphs, a stationary magical property whose effect varries by the kind of dust she uses.
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Blake Belladonna Hero Alias: Noir Quirk: Copycat Blake can leave a shadow duplicate of herself to take a hit for her. She can launch herself off the clones as well. However, the clones are not solid and cannot hit enemies for her. Instead they disappear after being hit by anything.
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Yang Xiao Long Hero Alias: Dragonfire Quirk: Burn When Yang takes damage, it builds up in her muscles, allowing her to retaliate with tremendous strength. Her quirk causes her body to produce flames when angry, and she can shoot these flames with her punches, but not her kicks.
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Name: Steven Universe Hero Alias: Pink Diamond Quirk: Gemstone Steven has a gemstone in his belly, which allows him to summon a shield made of hard light, and lets him give sentience to plants, as well as heal injuries and repair inorganic material. He can even merge himself with another person, creating a hybrid that shares a combination of their quirks.
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Name: Aang Hero Alias: Avatar Aang Quirk: Force of Nature Aang has the ability to manipulate air, water, fire, or rocks within his vascinity. He has the greatest control over Air, but can manipulate the others as well. When he bends all four at once, Aang becomes able to tap into the raw power of nature itself, and awakens his full power, but becomes destructive and uncontrollable when he does so.
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Name: Katara Hero Alias: Arctic Fox Quirk: Waterbending Katara can manipulate water, snow, and ice near her. Her body is highly acclimated to the cold, and with practice she can even create water by drawing moisture from the air and plants. She can even control the water inside of living things, but she doesn’t like using this unless she feels she has to.
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Name: Sokka Hero Alias: White Wolf Quirk: Pack Tactics Sokka’s natural senses are hightened to the skill of a wolf’s, especially his hearing and smelling. This natural mutation quirk he inherited from his father makes him a master tracker. Sokka’s physical abilities improve when he’s around other people. As such, Sokka tends to avoid one-on-one fights if he can help it.
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Name: Toph Beifong Hero Alias: Blind Bandit Quirk: Earthbending Toph can manipulate the earth underfoot, and bend it to her will. Her connection to Earth has become so finetuned that Toph can feel the vibrations of things in the ground and relay those signals to the entirety of her body. Because of this, she can see in 360 degrees, and detect small details others easily overlook.
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Name: Zuko Hero Alias: Blue Spirit Quirk: Firebending Zuko can produce flames from his body when he uses proper martial arts form. However, he is highly disciplined in combat that doesn’t use his quirk, being a master in stealth and infiltration tactics. He is trained in the use of twin dao swords. His family is a prominent superpowered mafia, with his father being a notorious crime lord kingpin. Zuko applied to UA in secret, and covers for his absence by claiming to be undercover.
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Name: Lance McClain Hero Name: Sharpshooter Quirk: Eagle Eye Lance’s quirk gives him extremely focused ocular perception, which makes his use of a stun gun highly effective. Lance’s gun has a built in freeze ray that turns his bullets into ice pellets. He has some skill with a sword and carries one in case he needs it, but due to his focus on ranged combat, he’s at a disadvantage once melee combatants get within close range of him.
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Name: Keith Kogane Hero Alias: Yurak Quirk: Galran Keith’s appearance becomes more animalistic as he becoems angry, turning purple and developing feline-like traits. This includes the growth of fangs, claws, and animalistic eyes. This form is faster and stronger than his base human form. Keith is also very adept with a sword, carrying one into battle.
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Name: Katie Holt Hero Alias: Pidge Quirk: Hacker Any technology Katie comes into contact with, she can rewire and reprogram. Because of this, Katie always has a stash of robotic drones to aid her in her field work. She had a promising future in the Support course, but she insisted on pursuing the hero course at UA.
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Name: Hunk Garrett Alias: Gourmand Quirk: Iron Stomach Hunk is a walking tank whose body can dampen the damage he takes. This natural defense is increased when he eats. Especially when he eats good food. Certain spices and flavors also give him other temporary bonus features, such as spicy food dampening heat and fire damage, or mixed drinks letting him breathe underwater for a short time. He can even store energy in his stomach and fire it like a projectile, but this tires him out and makes him hungry.
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Name: Allura Hero Name: Supernova Quirk: Alchemy Allura has a number of magical abilities she can perform, such as healing, creating blasts of magic, and other such magical things. Allura is skilled with a bo staff and primarily uses a segmented whip-sword. Her father was killed by a supervillain, and Allura swore she would become a hero in order to avenge his death.
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ceffythesquirrel · 4 years
Text
Birthday Blues
What? What?! I wrote a normal fic for once?! This is a completely normal fic for Logan’s birthday! I tried writing one last year but I failed. I wanted this to be the year I wrote a normal fic for my favorite side. Don’t ask why I keep repeating normal over and over again. It’s not worth reading into. So here! Take this fic I’ve been writing for three days straight (gay) pretty much! I’m happy with how it turned out! I hope you guys enjoy.
Happy Birthday, Logan!!!
Birthday Blues
Ships: Platonic Lamp/calm, some analogical if you squint.
Words: 1,991
Warnings: Logan is the scrooge of his own birthday. Twinges of angst. Let me know of anything else.
~~~~~
It was that one fateful day of the year when Logan woke up in the morning groaning in dread at the date on his calendar. He continuously reminded his fellow aspects that they all shared the same birthday on April 24th because they were all Thomas, but the fandom celebrated them differently and Patton quickly caught on. Roman was on board soon after and both of them were able to drag Virgil in it, but Logan remained adamant that his birthday was absolutely NOT November 3rd.
Once he was up and dressed, he took a quick look at the calendar and narrowed his eyes at the small “Birthday” surrounded by question marks underneath today’s date. He sighed and continued his routine hoping that when he stepped out in the hallway, nothing would happen. When it came time, Logan armed himself with his pillow and carefully turned the doorknob of his room out into the mind palace’s hallway. Almost immediately, he saw confetti fly past the opening of the door and he quickly shut it before any other unidentified flying objects made their way into his room.
A couple of whines could be heard from the other side of the door. “Awwww, C’mon Logan! Aren’t ya gonna come out for your birthday?”
“Yeah! Get out here Logan! I even got Virgil here to cheer you on!”
“Whoop di doo…���
Logan saw the doorknob turn multiple ways and he pressed his body against it, refusing the other three entry inside. “No! And It’s not my birthday. I do not understand your incessant attempts to celebrate me on a day in which I wasn’t even born. Virgil, we’ve had this talk before. We do not have mothers!” He grew annoyed with the constant turning of the knob and quickly locked it before Roman tried to summon a battering ram...again.
“Look, dude, I’m just tired of fighting them. It’s only one day, Lo. You can deal with it.”
“Maybe I can’t-oof!” Logan felt the whole door shift as something ran into it from the other side.
“Roman!” Logan yelled out of fear for his room door.
“I will get you out of there if it’s the last thing I do!” Roman ran into it again and Logan let out a small yelp as the force was enough to push him off the door and onto the floor. He thanked his mental lock for holding out as chaotic of a force as Roman.
“Roman! Roman, stop!” Thankfully, Patton came to his rescue and his door was saved. “This isn’t going to get him to join us! We need to come up with a better plan.”
“Fine, fine. We’ll go to plan B. Just you wait Nerdicus! We may yet get you to join! Muahahahaha!”
“Don’t laugh like that, it doesn’t suit you.”
“Well fine then…” As their voices died off, Logan rose to his feet and gave a heavy sigh. He was not looking forward to whatever crazy plans they had in store for him.
He quietly stepped out into the hallway not 20 minutes later. Logan had unfortunately run out of his stash of Crofter’s in his room and needed to find something better for breakfast. When he rounded the corner into the kitchen, all three of them sat with breakfast already made.
“There he is! Let’s sing. 3! 2! 1! Happy Birth-” Logan flew back around the corner, attempting to hide the odd blush that had crept on his face when he saw all of them smiling at him. Even Virgil was wearing more than just his usual smirk. He heard the voices grow ever so slightly closer until Roman peeked around the corner and flashed him a devious smirk. The logical aspect let out an undignified squawk and ran back to his room just before Roman or Patton could catch him.
“I just want breakfast!!!” He whined behind his closed door and he pouted at their snickers.
“You can get breakfast,” Patton affirmed. “Just come out here and let us sing to you.”
“Absolutely not!” Logan felt the tiniest twinge of guilt at the disappointed sigh that Patton exhaled on the other side of the door.
“You really won’t let us celebrate you?” Logan’s lips pursed into a frown, but he stayed adamant about his decision.
“No.” He bit off behind the door.
There was a little bit of deafening silence and Logan could practically hear the mood switch in Patton. “Virgil? Can you get a plate for Logan to eat in his room?”
“Sure thing.” Once Virgil walked off, Roman scoffed in disbelief.
“Wait what?! You aren’t just letting him go like that...right?” Logan heard Virgil return with a plate of food and he passed it to Patton.
“Thank you, Virgil. Here you go, Logan. Just go ahead and take it. We won’t try to pull you into anything.”
“What?!” Ignoring Roman’s exclamation, the logical aspect cautiously grasped his doorknob from inside and cracked opened his door.
“Let him go Princey.” Logan opened the door all the way and saw Virgil comically restraining Roman as Patton held out a plate towards him with a sad expression on his face. Logan took the plate and silverware into his grasp and retreated back into his room. The pang of guilt quickly grew in size and sat in the bottom of his belly as he shut the door behind him.
He smiled sadly as he heard Roman’s complaining ring down the hall as Virgil dragged him by the ear back to the kitchen where Logan found them in the first place. It was kind of Patton to understand his need for space and understand where he was coming from, but he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.
He sat with his back against the wall and scarfed down the food, hearing the soft voices coming from the kitchen. Once finished, he set the plate down on his desk and walked over to his bookshelf. He skimmed his fingers along the spines until he found a pale, rainbow notebook detailing all of the events of Thomas’s last 30 birthdays. He thumbs through a couple pages before flipping to the bigger section of the book that detailed all of the friends’ birthdays Thomas had been to in the past.
He knew the origin of birthdays and where they came from. He knew why they were celebrated, but why should his be? He wasn’t a full person and was of less importance than Thomas himself, let alone known by any of Thomas’s friends. After pondering his existence for a solid minute, he decided Thomas might have a better idea of why this was happening inside of his mind. He took a deep breath and sunk down, reappearing in the kitchen as he watched Thomas make some scrambled eggs for himself.
“Thomas?” He asked softly, hoping not to disturb him.
“Huh?” Thomas turned around and acknowledged the side in his vicinity. “Yeah Logan?”
Logan shifted from side to side, hoping to make sense of the question he was about to ask. “Uhm...what would happen...if your friend had a birthday, but they didn’t want their birthday to be celebrated?”
“Huh?” Thomas gave him a look of confusion. “What brought this question up?”
“Well...For whatever reason...everyone wants to celebrate November 3rd as my birthday, but I was not born on this day. I see no reason for anyone to think anything more of it. There’s nothing special about it.”
“Oh wow.” Thomas pulled out his phone and checked the date. “Yeah. Sure enough! It’s your birthday today.” He gave his side a half-smirk before glancing down at the spoon in his hands.
“Not you too…” Logan groaned. “Why?”
Thomas scratched his head, looking for a way to explain this to his logical aspect. “Well...what is January 15th?”
“That’s Patton’s birthday,” Logan explained.
Thomas smiled at him. “Would you celebrate it with him?”
“Of course. He would be sad if I didn’t.”
“Then, why wouldn’t he be sad if you didn’t let him return the favor? You know he enjoys giving things to the people he loves.”
Logan frowned. “I just don’t understand. What’s so important about me that everyone wants to celebrate?! I’m literally a part of your mind Thomas. There is nothing unique or interesting about me except...you!”
Thomas sighed sadly. “That’s where you're wrong Logan. I’m sorry you think that of yourself. I can tell you if my friend thought that about themselves, I would do everything in my power to make them feel loved. Maybe, that’s what they are trying to do. Patton, Virgil, and Roman I mean. They are trying to show you that you are valued and that’s why they want to celebrate your birthday.” Thomas stepped toward Logan. “If you don’t want today to be your birthday that’s fine. But, I want you to know that a lot of people love you, Logan. The people that see you on their screen, the other sides, and me. I know it’s not going to make sense. The only real reason people could see this as your birthday is that you starred in your first vine on this day five years ago.”
The logical aspect gave a small smile at this, and let Thomas continue talking. “They celebrate you because they love you. They want you to know that your existence is good and they like hanging around you! Why do you think we went all out for Virgil’s birthday when he was first accepted two years ago?”
Logan nodded and his facial expressions told Thomas he was beginning to understand. “Because...we wanted to show him that he belonged in this group.”
“Right. And you belong too, alright?” Thomas smiled at him. “I mean, I wouldn’t be me without any of you, but especially you. So, go back in there and let them shower you with love.” Thomas laughed at the blush that spread across his face.
Logan rubbed his biceps awkwardly. “I have to find a way to apologize first. I may have told them off.”
Thomas frowned a bit. “I hope you can make it up to them.”
Logan tapped his chin before raising his pointer finger in epiphany and sinking down. “I think I may have an idea.” He smiled as Thomas waved to the floor before he found himself popping up in Virgil’s room near the staircase. He knocked on one the rungs and the darker aspect appeared next to him.
“You called?”
Logan let out a deep sigh. “I...want to apologize to Patton.”
Virgil chuckled. “Did Thomas finally talk some sense into you?”
Logan mirrored the laugh. “I don’t know how he did, considering we have the same mental processing.”
“Nah. You just finally decided to listen to your gut feeling.”
“No, I...I felt bad. I didn’t realize how much I meant...to all three of you. And I want you all to know how much I appreciate you for attempting to celebrate this. I’m sorry for-”
“Being a stick in the mud?” Virgil raised an eyebrow and finished the sentence for him.
“If you must put it that way, then yes.”
Virgil smiled. “I’m sure they’ll forgive you, Lo. I had a feeling you’d come around. You’re too smart to let something like that go without first coming to a valid conclusion.”
The logical aspect cleared his throat and let a small blush spread across his face. “Yes well. I do what I need to.”
Virgil scoffed. “Don’t be too quick to thank me for the compliment.” He patted Logan on the shoulder before turning to walk out the door. “Now come on. We gotta go find Patton.”
“Thank you, Virgil.” Logan stated as they walked down the hallway towards Roman’s and Patton’s voices.
“Don’t mention it...and Logan?”
“Hmm..?” He shut Virgil’s room door behind him, turning to look at the darker aspect in front of him.
“Happy birthday.” Logan’s following grin grew uncharacteristically wide and Virgil couldn’t help but mirror it.
~~~~~
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tysonrunningfox · 4 years
Text
Open Flames: Part 18
Alternate name for this chapter: The time Eret III invented Nuclear Deterrent (and Fuse Helped) 
Ao3 (the masterpost is horribly behind...I should deal with that...but it’s all organized on Ao3 so I might...not)
00000
I would never say this in front of Fuse, but I’ve been blown up before.
A few times, really.  Some of them because I hadn’t learned to duck and cover quickly enough, some because after the volcano, grenades and mining charges didn’t feel like they mattered much.  Between those exposures and riding Bang for most of my life, maybe I’m acclimated to explosions and the waves of pressure that come with them.
Or, maybe, as big and hardy as everyone in Dad’s village is, they’re weak in the face of a concussive blast.
I’m the first one on my feet after the jail walls fall down, spitting metallic dust from the ancient gate out of my mouth and staggering towards the pile of clothes that I hid the sword under.  It takes a couple of tries, my feet not quite listening, my shoulder throbbing from its impromptu use as a battering ram.
Arvid groans, dabbing at the blood dripping out of his nose, too red in my slightly blurring vision.
“Get up,” I try to hiss at him, but it comes out half-shout, ears ringing when my throat rasps.  “Before they do.”
“Thought you said those didn’t work,” he curls into the fetal position and dry heaves, and someone under the rubble that used to be the wall around the door shifts, a crumbled brick falling to the side.
“I thought they didn’t.”  I get the sword, arms aching from the weight as it seemingly drags me in a tight circle, foot catching on the something and nearly tripping me.
But I’m up.  I’m the only one up.
“Idiot,” Arvid wheezes.
I look around for Bang and see Wingspark slumped by the nearest edge of the forest, shaking her head slowly, cocking it off kilter when she dares to open wide, disoriented eyes.
My nose must be bleeding too because the metallic taste in my mouth gets worse as I raise the sword into a trembling defensive position.
Berk wedding traditions couldn’t include axes, could they?  That would be way too convenient.
“There!”  Someone shouts and I spin, forcing my eyes to focus on the cohort of half a dozen men running at us over the nearest hill.  The one in front is big, holding a spear back and aiming in what I think is my direction and it’s sheer luck when the spearhead hits the flat of the sword instead of my arm, chipping off a piece of generations old rust and sending a tremor up through my sore shoulder.
“Get up, there’s more of them.”  I hiss, planting my feet in the rubble and fixing my grip tighter around the sword.  “Lots more.”
“What are they going to do, put you in jail?”  He rolls almost reluctantly to his knees and I’d tell him that he’s never been less intimidating, except I’m thinking of Fuse and my promise and how impossible it is to keep as the band of men starts running at us in earnest, shouting names and curses and threats.
“Since that’s off the table, I guess I’m going to have to go with plan B.”
“What’s plan B?”  Arvid staggers to his feet, wiping his nose on his sleeve, black eye green around the edges, and I realize, with a terrifying jolt, that I’m the only even moderately intimidating one right now.
“Make them think the fight’s not worth it.”  I decide all at once, forcing my expression serious.
“You’re going to bluff?”
“Hardly,” I grit my teeth, “I’m going to tell the whole truth.”
Because even though Fuse isn’t here, her bombs were.  Even though she can’t back me up, her legacy can.  No one would have to look too far to corroborate my story.
I wait until the cohort is in ear shot and swallow hard, trying not to think about how bad a spear would hurt piercing my chest as I lower the sword, one hand held towards them in a gesture asking them to stop.  I’m trying for casual, even as Arvid stares at me incredulous, hand shaking, smooth tongue stuck limp in his mouth as I essentially hand us over to the enemy.
Except they aren’t an enemy.
I let them look like Dad, let myself see the origin of his features in their faces.  Ingrid’s eyes.  Rolf’s scowl.
“Hey,” I call out when they don’t stop immediately and a couple of men at the back falter.  I raise my hand to my mouth and let out the most piercing whistle I can, wishing Ingrid were here to do the honors, but I’m still glad when it’s enough and the man at the front stops, obviously confused.  “If we can just pause the charge for a second, that’d be great.  Thanks.”
I wipe the dust from my hand on my pants and it comes away dustier.
Arvid stares at me in a way that makes me sure if he were holding the sword, he would have knocked my dumb ass out by now in an attempt to salvage the situation.
“Thanks,” I repeat, twirling the sword in my grip just for something to do as I take advantage of the silence, “I know we got off on the wrong foot here—”
“You were desecrating our ancestral burial ground!”  The man just to the right of the leader yells and I weigh the accusation.
“Not exactly, actually.”
“You were in Eret’s grave—”
“Oh good, I did get the runes right,” I laugh, and it doesn’t so much ease the tension as it confuses everyone so much they don’t know how to respond, “Eret III, future chief of Berk.”  I switch the sword to my left hand and hold out my right, even risking a step forward towards the shocked group.
None of them move.
Arvid snaps his fingers, summoning Wingspark closer, but it doesn’t work.  I still don’t know where Bang is, and when I find him, we’re going to have a long talk about his rescue etiquette.
“Ok,” I take my hand back, switching the sword back to it and twirling it a couple of easy times where it hangs down by my ankles.  It’s not intimidating like an axe, but maybe that’s a good thing.  “Where do I start?  Ok, well, you might be wondering what happened to your jail cell.  And while I could claim that it just spontaneously crumbled because of bad upkeep, I’m going to stick with the truth here—”
“Your dragon, that blue blasted beast—”
“Don’t, alliteration goes to his head,” I ignore Arvid’s glare, “and it’s not quite true, he had help.”  I think of Fuse and the walls I’ve seen fall, the craters I’ve seen gouge themselves into hard rock.  “I’m engaged.”
“What he means is—”  Arvid tries to cut me off and I give him my most chiefly look, the one that makes him puff up even as he stands down.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about Berk, and I know that stories about us get warped and blown out of proportion the futher away they’re told,” I lower my voice, hoping that nasal can be deadly in the right circumstances, “but I’m not exaggerating when I say that your jail cell was just obliterated by the smallest arms in my future wife’s arsenal.”
“Is that a threat?”  The man in front bristles, reaching for the spear of the follower at his left and I take a step back to retrieve the spear that barely missed me a moment ago and toss it to him.
If I somehow talk my way out of this, Arvid is going to kill me and enjoy it.
“It’s a warning,” I wave vaguely to the south, “either I tell you now, before you’re stupid enough to kill me, or you learn the next time you near the archipelago to trade.”  I watch the leader contemplate his spear and shrug, sword waving carelessly through the air, “you might hear the rumors before she strikes, I don’t know, it all depends on how long it takes for word to get back to Berk, and with my dragon probably on his way there now, without me, it won’t be more than a couple of days.”
“Strikes?”  The question is a whisper among the men, their eyes flicking between me and the pile of rubble just starting to move with their men regaining consciousness from the blast.
“I’m sure you’ve heard rumors,” I grin, “the dragon island blown entirely off of the map, whole dragon trapper posts gone up in flame and rubble.”  I shrug, “not rumors.”
They look at the building.  Arvid looks at me and Wingspark, and the single dull sword that we have between us against at least a dozen men.
“I’m a nice guy,” I promise, left hand held up in simulated surrender, “really, my dad’s from here, I appreciate your history so much I just wanted to borrow a little piece of it and maybe I could have been a little more upfront about it.  I wish I had, given how many of your lives that would have saved.”
I feel it now, in their eyes on me, that chiefly aura that I’ve always struggled towards.  The feeling that when they look at me, I’m more than just myself, I’m larger, scarier, impossible in a way that makes people wish they were behind me instead of against me.
“The way I see it, if I’m going to keep my conscience clear here, I’ve got two options.”  I number them off against the rusty sword, “one, I consider you warned.  If you kill me right now, there will be more than Hel to pay.  Your entire village reduced to a pile of rubble so thorough that those graves will be all that’s left and even then, only the ones buried deep.”  I swallow, hoping I’ve laid a big enough foundation to bluff on even as I assess the group.
The guy in the front is biggest, but looks slow, and aside from his spear I only see a short dagger.  There’s a smaller man in the back row with a heavy iron axe in his hands, and if I could just get to him, I’d have a chance at some of them, maybe enough for Arvid to get to Wingspark.  With a little fire on our side, the odds are better, and I plant my heels to spring in case this next line doesn’t work out for me.
“Or, I kill all of you now before you can hurt me, because trust me, even a scratch, even a bruise won’t make her happy.  That’s the only way I can think of to save your families, your history.”  I gesture with the sword, “our history, really.”
The pause drags on, too long, rubble shifting and crumbling as men underneath it try to sit up.  The new cohort’s eyes drift repeatedly to the pile, obviously wanting to help their brethren and I watch them weigh the utility of the next few minutes.
“Aw Hel,” the man to the leader’s left swears, “let him go, he’s fucking crazy.”
“That explosion knocked down a shelf at my house a half mile away,” another man mutters, “he said it was small arms—”
“He stole from us,” the leader insists and I gesture with the sword again.
“Oh, come on, you guys weren’t using it.”  I adjust my grip, preparing again to charge if necessary, “and it has my name on it.”
“The other graves are untouched,” someone else argues in a tense whisper, “what if he’s telling the truth?  He said his name was Eret—”
“He’s a thief, he’s probably a liar too—”
“Trust me, if I was going to lie about my name, I would have started years ago.”  I laugh, even as Arvid takes a calculated step back towards where Wing is inching forwards.  She’s close now, maybe a run for it would be better.
“Let him take the damn sword,” the man to the leader’s right booms, “if there’s even a grain of truth in what he’s saying it’s not worth it.  No one liked Eret that much anyway!”
“I heard that Bronn!”  A shout from the sky takes everyone else’s concentration away from the stand off and the bubble of relief in my chest swells to near bursting when Skullcrusher lands on the other side of the crowd, Dad sitting on his shoulders.
Stormfly lands next to him, followed by a panicked Bang who immediately charges me, cool claws on my shoulders as he knocks me back into the dirt and starts frantically licking my face.
“Bud!”  I yelp, squirming away from the piece of what used to be a prison wall digging in to my lower back, “missed you too!  Missed you too!”
“Is that Eret son of Eret?”  The question is bouncing around the group of men when I finally get back to my feet, holstering the sword clumsily in my axe’s place against my back.
“Hi Dad,” I call out, driving in the point as I swing onto Bang, relief flooding through me when his wings twitch to the sides, preparing for takeoff.
“Go on ahead, son,” Dad says pointedly, waving me away, “I’ll catch up.”
“I don’t think I was done talking to them,” I shrug and the man dad recognized, Bronn apparently, looks between us with wide eyes.
“I think they’re done talking to you,” Dad laughs, “I’ll smooth things over.”
I want to stay but the half-relieved, half-furious, all guilt-inducing look that Mom gives me convinces me otherwise.  As I take off, I hear the first few questions echoing on the breeze, all concerning the validity of my claims that if they’d touched me, they all would have found themselves blown sky high in less than a week.
Dad’s laugh answers them for me.
Flying does little to blow the stink and dust off of my clothes, but my mind is far clearer by the time Mom guides Arvid and I down to a small camp maybe fifteen minutes outside the outskirts of the village.
“What the Hel were you thinking?”  She asks as soon as we’ve landed, launching herself off of Stormfly and flinging her arms around me in a hug so tight it might as well be a chokehold, given I’m not quite off of Bang yet.
“Mom,” I wheeze and she yanks me off of my dragon and to my feet, bracing her hands on my shoulders to analyze my face.
“Flying off like that when Fuse is seven months pregnant,” she starts listing the compilation of my crimes, but all I can hear is Fuse and pregnant and the fear settles back into that collar around my heart, “getting arrested in a village you’ve never been to—”
“Is Fuse ok?”
“As of a day and a half ago,” she softens slightly at something in my expression, probably the raw desperation flooding across everything I’ve kept together for the past…however long I was in that cell, “everyone’s watching her, I’m sure she’s fine.  Unmarried, but otherwise fine.”
“As soon as I get back,” I pull the rusty sword from my back and hold it out for her to examine, “I’m ready, I just needed—”
“Something of your dad’s,” she sighs, “something from where he’s from.  I know.”  She smiles, a little crooked, younger looking than usual with her hair windblown and her panic receding from an otherwise open expression, “and before you ask, no one told me, I guessed.  I’m sorry it took me so long to guess.  If I’d been more on top of it, maybe we would have caught you before you were about to fight off an army—”
“An army?”  I shrug, “half a company, maybe.  Hardly even a small militia—”
“Eret.”  She squishes my cheeks, dirty beard itching against my face.
“I was talking my way out of it,” the words come out slightly muffled and Arvid steps up beside me, and I feel guilty for forgetting him in the rush of the reunion.
“By telling them how his future wife would blow them up if they touched a hair on his pretty head.”
“Delegating,” I clarify as Mom lets me go.  “And can you please stop with the pretty?”
He doesn’t hear because Mom is hugging him, chin over his shoulder, which is too bad because she misses his shocked expression, eyes wide on my face like he’s looking for help.
“And you, I expected better of you,” she jabs him in the chest with a finger when she pulls away, “going along with a plan like this.  And what happened to your eye?”  She pokes at the green bruise and wipes the still trickling red under his nose with her sleeve.  “Who did this to you?”
She looks accusingly at me and I raise my hands, gesturing at the dried blood on my own lip, even though it’s probably far less obvious caked in my red moustache.
“The nose was the explosion.”  I nod, “which was an accident, the bombs had been soaked a bunch of times, it was Bang trying to blast us out that set them off—”
“Did you ice this?”  She’s back fussing over Arvid who blushes, hands in his pockets.
“I was a prisoner, Mom, no one was really offering medical care.”
“If we’d been an hour later…” she looks between us, shaking her head, and we both hug her at the same time, Arvid lifting her a couple lopsided inches in the air.
“We’re fine,” I insist, “a little deafened, maybe, but the ringing in my ears is already fading.”
“Speak for yourself,” Arvid grumbles, stepping out of the hug to twist his pinky in his ear, wincing.
“You’ve got to get home,” Mom tells me in particular, earnest instead of chastising and that makes it worse.
“I know,” I nod, “I didn’t think that’d take more than a week, but—”
“You should take Stormfly,” she pats her leg to call the Nadder over, “she’s faster.  I’ll wait for your dad and fly back on Bang.”
Bang protests weakly, nudging my leg with his wing and looking up at me with big, pathetic, watery eyes.
“I’ve got to get home too,” Arvid perks up, a little frantic for the first time since the explosion, rolling his shoulder like he’s just now remembering why he pulverized it.  “Aurelia—”
“Wing can keep up with Stormfly, can’t she?”  Mom asks and Arvid seems to center himself on the words before nodding.
“I think so.”
“We took a roundabout way to get up here to avoid trouble,” I say a bit sheepishly, “not that it mattered, but by any chance, did you guys come direct?”
“We took as straight of a shot as we could,” Mom nods, “no trouble to be seen, seems like you guys had it all corralled.”
“I do my best,” I nod, faking somber as the weight of the sword against my back starts to mount, the pull towards home and Fuse overwhelming the desire to stay here and dwell.
“Straight home,” Mom points at me and I nod.  “I mean it, if we get there before you—”
“Hel to pay, I get it.”  I swing up onto Stormfly and she fidgets as I adjust my seat to her comparatively narrow shoulders.  “I’m shocked you’re even trusting me after well,” I point at the sword and she sighs, a little sheepish in a way I’ve never seen directed at me.
Maybe at Dad, once or twice, when one of us broke something and she decided not to punish us for it.  Never at the chief.
“I’ve got to start sometime.”
“You do?”  I raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore Arvid’s impatient expression as Wingspark paces in a small circle, ready to take off.
“You’re going to be chief,” she reminds me, and it makes my negotiation of sorts at the blown jail cell feel silly and more official all at once, “and you can’t do that with your mother questioning your every move, can you?”
“Oh,” I frown, “I guess I’d assumed that was part of the program.”
“Go,” she pats Stormfly’s haunch, “you being this far from an unmarried Fuse right now is giving me gray hairs.”
“Fine,” I nudge Stormfly forward, ignoring Bang’s pathetic croon to the best of my ability, “see you at home.”
“We going?”  Arvid half checks then takes off before I get an answer, flying due south through a cloud bank, pressed low to Wingspark’s neck.
We don’t talk much.  There’s none of that adventurous feeling that carried us North on the way here, this feels far more like drudgery.  It reminds me too much of my sleepless flights between Berk and Elva’s island and I’m glad to be on Stormfly, the different seated position keeping me focused on what’s ahead instead of reliving what’s behind.
We take a single, brief stop just before sundown to feed the dragons and Arvid helps me pull the long-healed stitches out of my forearm and wrap it in a length of cloth I rip from one of Dad’s old borrowed shirts that is still layered over my own.
There’s no talk of stopping for the night and we get back into the sky, hugging the coastline for the next part of the journey so that the dragons can glide on the updraft generated by the miles of shear cliffs, preserving some of their energy towards faster flight.   The night’s colder than it was even a week ago, winter setting in with a vengeance as a few flakes start to fall on the straight just north of Berk, and I let myself have a moment’s hope for a small feast.
Or no feast.  I don’t care.
That in and of itself is refreshing, the general lack of reluctance.  After years of digging in my heels while people dragged me places that didn’t feel right, walking apathetically forward of my own volition is freeing.  Or not apathetically, that’s not right.  I can hardly think of waking up in a house with Fuse, a house that’s ours, because it feels so impossible in all of the best ways, but I can imagine the wedding.
It’s going to be…well, a wedding.
The chief is probably going to make a big, annoying deal of the ceremonial bath.  I’ll have to wear whatever my mom says and sign the contract and throw the sword on my back into a rafter.  I’ll have to fend off the well-wishers but then I’ll get to go home with Fuse and have some new claim on her and those babies that kick my hands when I talk too much.
“I’m headed home!” Arvid shouts over the wind, gesturing towards the far point of the island and I shake my head.
“Aurelia’s probably with Fuse.”
He hovers for a second, looking down at his clothes and then looking at me with a bright tinge of panic in his eyes barely visible through the fluttering snowflakes, which are picking up speed.
“You look fine,” I roll my eyes and he pivots Wingspark in a frustrated little circle.
“I’m covered in half a building—”
“Aurelia won’t care.”
“I…” He grits his teeth and I see the shadow of his jaw flexing from where I’m hovering on an updraft a few yards away, “I don’t know what to say to her.”
“It’s Aurelia,” I try, sighing when he doesn’t relax, “tell her I was cryptic and weird and said you needed to talk to her—”
“I don’t need you in the middle.”  He draws a line in the snow and asks me to stay on my side and I nod.  It feels like him taking a step back at his dad’s birth village, falling into a new boundary, and I respect it, nodding.  “I’m going to go get cleaned up.”
“Should I let Aurelia know?”
He shrugs, and then rethinks the gesture, “yeah.  If she’s there.”
“Alright.”  I half salute, sword on my back feeling too big and out of place as Stormfly angles to catch the next draft, snow flurrying from the cliffs below, “thanks, by the way.  For this.”  I shrug under the weight of the sword.
“Yeah,”  Arvid smiles, handsome again, huge again, the black eye a battle scar with a story worth telling, “thanks for this.”  He pats Dad’s sword in its holster on his hip and then he’s gliding back towards his house.
I land outside the chief’s house and Stormfly instantly trots off to the barn, tucking herself into a pile of straw and shoving her beak into a bucket of fish.  I stretch, scrubbing my hand through my iced over beard and walking towards the door before opening it to a resounding chorus of Aurelia’s frustration.
“How do you keep doing that?”  She shouts, voice going shrill as she leans over the maces and talons board set up on the table.  “You aren’t even paying attention!”
“I don’t know why you didn’t just do this,” Tuffnut demonstrates some move and the vein in Aurelia’s forehead twitches.
“That’s agains the rules.”
“I thought we were playing Thorston rules,” Tuffnut looks beside him and I edge a little further into the doorway to see the back of Fuse’s head, hair glowing with the reflection of the fire.  “So Loki’s revenge is legal, why didn’t she just do that?”
“Because Thorston rules aren’t real, Tuff,” the chief reminds him like he’s said it a few dozen times today.
“Then why do we keep winning?”  Tuffnut asks.
“I don’t know!” Aurelia snaps, tossing a game piece at his head and missing entirely.  It skitters across the floor and I stop it with my boot, watching Aurelia’s jaw drop when she follows its path and sees me in the doorway.  “You’re back?”
“No, of course not,” I joke, “just passing through.”
“Eret,” Fuse jumps up so fast she knocks her chair down, whirling towards me and managing a step before I’m across the room, lifting her into a hug and burying my face in her hair.
“Hey,” I say against her neck, arms tightening reflexively around her.  
And she smells like home, usual soot replaced with campfire and warmth.  Her hair tickles my nose as she pats my shoulders, asking to be set down, which makes it easier to rest my cheek against her forehead.  I want to slip my hand under her shirt to feel her stomach, but Aurelia’s and the chief’s eyes are boring into the top of my head and I sigh and pull away, pausing to kiss her forehead and grab her hand.
Her other hand starts working up my sleeve to check my stitches and I don’t have the heart to stop her, even when the chief’s ever sharp eyes catch the motion.
“Where’s Arvid?”  Aurelia asks first, one arm absently around my chest in a side hug as she wrinkles her nose, “you’re filthy, by the way.”
“Arvid went to get cleaned up,” I roll my eyes, “should be at your place.”
“Thanks,” she hustles to grab her coat and I squeeze Fuse’s hand as I turn to face Aurelia on her way out the open door.
“Ask him about the black eye, by the way, funny story.”
“Black eye?”  She pauses for a second before shaking her head at me, “whatever.  I’ll see you later.”  She points at Tuffnut, “for a rematch.”
“Thorston rules next time,” he waggles his eyebrows but Aurelia ignores him, slamming the door shut against the blowing snow and leaving the room in awkward silence.
Or awkward for me, at least.
Fuse seems fine with the quiet, quite obviously checking me over for new injuries until I take both her hands in one of mine, giving her a look that she thankfully accepts to mean ‘later’.  Tuffnut is also fine with the silence, looking between me and his daughter with a pleasant smile that grows the more awkward I feel.
Mostly though, the chief doesn’t seem to feel awkward, which is always a bad sign.  Worse, it doesn’t feel like I’m in trouble this time, like the concept of trouble has lost some of its meaning.  It’s worse than trouble, he’s waiting for me to explain myself, and there’s the chance that if I do it well enough, he’ll accept it.
I never thought I’d miss the fatalistic comfort of no-win situations, but here I am.
I swallow hard, tugging at the collar of my dad’s borrowed coat that should be bigger before reaching over my shoulder and pulling out the rusty sword, angling it in the firelight to show the ancient, faded runes.
“I got what I went looking for,” I start, voice a rush from holding my breath and I clear my throat before continuing.  “Eret the first’s sword.”
“You were gone for almost two weeks.”
“Yeah,” I wince and Fuse squeezes my hand, encouraging at the same time as urging me to remind the room at large that she had it handled.
She doesn’t know the half of what she has handled, frankly.
“Did you anticipate being gone for two weeks?”  The chief asks me like I’m a council member and it’s hard to remember how reasonable he is as a boss when I was just wrapping my head around him as a grandfather to my future children, but this is yet another chance to prove that I can still handle things and I make myself focus, exhaling as I step forward to set the sword on the table.
Fuse doesn’t let go of my hand.
“I did not, Arvid and I took the long way, traveling at night to avoid running into anyone, so I thought it would be six or seven days at the most,” I scratch my chin and decide on the truth, again, “but it turns out that people don’t necessarily like strangers robbing their ancestral tombs.”
“Really?”  Tuffnut raises an eyebrow, “they weren’t happy about you taking this ugly old sword off their hands?”  He runs a finger along the rust where it was recently chipped by a spearhead, “honestly, this thing is horrible, how much did you pay for it?  It looks like it’s been in a grave for a hundred years.”
“Probably more like fifty,” I correct him, recognizing my own irritated expression on the chief’s face.
“You overpaid.”
“I stole it,” I assure him.
“Good old five-finger discount,” he winks at me or at Fuse, I can’t quite tell, “there’s hope for you yet, kid.”
“So, as I was saying, they weren’t happy that I stole a sword,” I steer the conversation back to the topic that might release me, “and I ended up in jail.”  When the chief doesn’t answer immediately, I keep talking, patting my stomach and gesturing to the room at large, “which, by the way, was anyone going to tell me that I don’t fit between dragon cage bars anymore?  I’ve been on the moldy bread diet for a week and it still didn’t work—”
“How’d you get out?”  The chief asks and there’s the real question, the one that the length of my absence was just hinting at.
“Fuse, actually,” I squeeze her hand and she frowns at me, glancing at my hairline like she’s searching out a bruise or some other sign of head injury, “no, not—some smoke bombs you gave me months ago that I never used—I mean, I actually soaked them about a hundred times, I don’t know how they still worked but at some point, Bang tried to blast the cell open and they flew into a wall and…boom.”  I mime the explosion with my free hand and the chief looks at me not quite doubtfully, but waiting for the rest of the story.
“And the village just let you go?”
“After some convincing, yeah,” I nod.
“What’s the body count on ‘convincing’?”  The chief finally puts the rest of the question out in the open and I relax, for once confident that I have the right answer.
“None,” I shrug, “I convinced them we weren’t worth the trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Well,” I drop Fuse’s hand to wrap my arm around her shoulders, “I might have said that what blew up their jail was the smallest in Berk’s—and my future wife in particular’s—arsenal.”
“I don’t know that,” Fuse mutters, biting her lip as she does some mental calculation, brows pulling together, “now that I think about it, saltwater curing a smoke bomb might produce…maybe with some black sand—”
“Fuse,” I break her concentration and she glares at me briefly before her expression softens and I’d say about anything to get away from our dads right now so that we can actually greet each other.
“I’ll test it out later,” she blushes, noticing the room’s attention on her and flanking down at her stomach, smoothing a warm sweater over it and shaking her head, “at some point.”
“So, instead of killing them,” the chief raises an eyebrow, “you convinced them that Fuse would kill them if they didn’t let you go?”
“It didn’t take much convincing,” I run a hand through my tangled hair and come back with a palm covered in jail dust even after a day and a half in the wind and snow, “not after the explosion.”
“A ceremonial wedding sword and a diplomatic solution,” the chief lets himself smile and I’d ask him how long he was faking a stern face to freak me out if I weren’t so relieved and impatient with the conversation, “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Well, it’s the day,” I shrug, unsure whether to accept the teasing as praise or push it off and ask for my next assignment.  Whether it’s my empty stomach or aching back or the fact that the dust is really starting to itch, I can’t be sure, but I’m suddenly exhausted enough to go with the first option.  “If that’s all, I think I’m going to go wash the prison off before the snow dilutes the hot springs…”
Fuse nods, cold hand slipping under the back of my shirt, and as hard as I try to keep my expression neutral with the repeated self-assurance that she’s only checking for injuries, I’m not sure that it works.  Especially because as much as I hate her worrying, I like her checking me over, all thorough attention and meticulous fingers.
And her dad is here.  And the chief is here.  And I’d throw that stupid sword into the chief’s ceiling right now if it meant house keys in my hand.
“And tomorrow is Frigg’s day,” the chief says, voice sing-song, and I blink at him.
“Ok.”
“Everyone else is on-island and you didn’t mind a small feast,” he looks between Fuse and I, “unless that’s changed…”
“What?  Oh!”  I stiffen when his meaning clicks, “tomorrow.  The wedding?  Tomorrow?”  I look at Fuse, semi-relieved when she’s startled too, wide eyes flicking between her dad and me.  “As in we go to sleep one time, wake up in the morning and get married?”
“Unless ‘tomorrow’ has changed meaning…”  The chief smiles at me, embarrassed for me and proud of me in equal parts and I don’t know why everyone is being so nice to me after I went to jail, but I’ll take it.
Especially because it feels different than pity, different than a token kind word to make up for a secret.
“Wait, like tomorrow tomorrow?”  Tuffnut jumps up and I nod.
“That’s what I just clarified.”
“It’s your last night in my house!”  He yanks Fuse away from me by her shoulders, and I wish I hadn’t set down the ceremonial sword as my own territorial instincts react.  “We have to celebrate.  Or cry.  And tell your mother—”
“The new house is just down the road,” Fuse rolls her eyes, looking pointedly at her dad and apologetically at me like she already knows it doesn’t matter and the offer to throw the sword into the ceiling still stands.
“Wait, you’ve seen the house?”  I ask, heart clenching when her otherwise irritated expression twitches into a tiny smile.
“Your mom showed me.”
“Is it—” I stop the flood of unimportant questions and try for the only one that matters.  “I mean, did you like it?”
“You’ll have plenty of time to talk about how much you love your new house once you’re done abandoning your old dad!”  Tuffnut starts dragging her towards the door and I’m unsure how real his tears are and even less sure how much I care.
“You knew this was coming—”  Fuse tries one last feeble time to shirk his arms off, and I get the feeling that as reluctant as she is, she might need this.  Especially after the last few months of distance from her dad, and I nod at her that it’s ok.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I tell her, even as everything in me rejects the distance, some new level of chiefly composure thinking of tomorrow and consequences instead of right now.
Or maybe it’s not chiefly composure, maybe it’s the kind of composure that might let me become chief.  The sign that I’m thinking of what I want in the future instead of what I’m running from in the present.
Or maybe that’s a load of dragon dung I’m telling myself because braving the snowstorm to the hot springs alone doesn’t sound very appealing after considering the alternative.
“At the altar,” she bites her lip, a little pale but still excited, eyes bright as the door shuts behind them with a gust of snow and the chief and I are alone.
“I’m not going to cry,” he jokes, and all I can think about is how we’re standing right where we were when I hugged him, “I’ve been looking forward to your last night in my house for years.”
“Yeah,” I snort, “finally going to be rid of me.”
“It’s just down the road,” he says, more to himself than to me and my chest feels a little tight.  “Stoick will finally stop bugging me that your room is bigger than his, I’m really excited for that—”
“I should go wash up,” I point at the door, barely biting my tongue against blurting out ‘alone’ in Midgard’s most disappointed tone, if only to break the moment.  “And get some sleep, big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he nods, “good plan, it’s going to—exhausting, weddings are exhausting.”
I make it all of two steps towards the door when he calls my name and I turn back around, impatient eyebrows raised.
“Just one more thing—”
“Yeah?”
“Where’s your Mom?”  He asks, worried in the way that never meshes with my mom in my mind.  Then, before I can answer, he winces and catches himself.  “Where’s Eret?  Also.  I mean, Eret—not you, obviously, I mean…”. He swallows hard and shrugs one shoulder, embarrassed as he probably should be, “where are your parents?”
“Oh,” I point vaguely North, “Mom insisted I take Stormfly, because she’s ‘faster’ than Bang,” I roll my eyes and he laughs, “and she was sure that Fuse was going to be having unclaimed heirs any second.”  My heart stutters at that and I pinch the outside of my thigh, forcing my focus back to tomorrow and only tomorrow, “she and my dad should be on their way by now.”
“Great.”  He waves me off and I make it one more measly, shuffled step, “Eret?”
“What?”  I regret the edge in my voice and clear my throat, “sorry, what?”
“I’m proud of you,” he doesn’t sound like the chief and he doesn’t sound like he’s trying to step in as my father either, and I remember how ‘grandpa’ felt right for a second and my throat tightens, “for going after what you want and—”
“And not chopping off a bunch of heads to get it?”  I joke, but he doesn’t laugh.
“That’s one way to say it,” he waves me towards the door, “I’m done now, really.  Go do what you need to do.  Big day tomorrow.”
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akilah12902 · 4 years
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Creature Feature: Elemental
I know that the ifrits from the first game look different, but they’re fire elementals.
Hello there, everybody! Today we’re covering the three kinds of Elementals you can encounter in the Witcher games; earth, fire, and ice.
Check the tags for some warnings and click the blue words to continue reading!
"An ifrit is a minor genie of fire, or, as some say, an elemental. It does not fulfill wishes, build palaces or make anyone rich, but it serves mages who research the element of fire if they can force the creature to be obedient.
Ifrits can only be captured by a mage who intimately understands the nature of flames and has devoted himself completely to learning their secret. The creatures, with their connection to the element of fire, will judge their summoner and, if they find him worthy, will loyally serve him in all matters."
Witcher 1 Bestiary Entry
The earth elemental is the younger brother of the legendary d'ao, the genie capable of creating earthquakes and flattening mountains. Younger, and less powerful, but also more mischievous. Felling trees, crushing walls and smashing people to pulp can be counted among this creature's pranks. But only if their master allows it, of course.
The earth elemental always serves its summoner faithfully. It is most often employed as a guard, as it is tireless and always vigilant. It does have senses as living beings do, but it always recognizes the presence of intruders. It has no fear of monsters, let alone humans.
This monster's most dangerous weapons are its mighty arms. A blow from the earth elemental is akin to a battering ram hitting a city gate, and turns a normal human into a bloody stain. Its ripostes are especially dangerous, for this apparently sluggish creature can strike swiftly as well as strongly. Thus one has to defend oneself against its blows with all available means, including potions and Signs. According to the "fight fire with fire" rule – or rather the "fight strength with strength" – one should also use strong blows against the elemental, since only such attacks can grind its stone body down.
The earth elemental's body is solid rock, so the creature cannot be poisoned or blooded. It is best to summon a team of dwarven miners to use pickaxes on it until its done for. However if the witcher has no such team at hand, he should use regular means. The earth elemental, though it has no weaknesses, can be beaten.
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Sorcerers proficient in the Art can create gateways to dimensions ruled by the four elements and force the creatures dwelling there to serve them. Herbert Stammelford, one of the members of the first Conclave, had a d'ao, a genie of earth, at his beck and call. At the mage's command it moved a mountain that blocked the view from a window. Contemporary sorcerers are but a pale shadow of the old masters, but they still can do a lot. The most proficient among them can summon fire elementals, perfectly obedient guardians and defenders.
A fire elemental, similarly to post-conjunction creatures, comes from another reality, and our world is alien to it. According to philosophers, it does not have emotions and does not think the way even trolls and other familiar creatures do. Totally controlled by magic, it obediently carries the sorcerer's orders out. If its master is a passionate smoker, the elemental will provide fire to light the pipe, and if he is threatened, the elemental will incinerate his enemies.
Fire is not the elemental's sole weapon. If you were ever hit by a flaming bough, you might have a notion what it's like to fight this monster. Witchers rarely deal with them, but they know that the igni sign is useless, unlike the strong style. The elemental's riposte's are truly lethal, thus one should not expose oneself too much. Still, one must keep in mind the possibility of many surprises involving flames. In truth, it is best to politely ask the sorcerer to call his pet off.
Setting a fire elemental aflame is never a wise idea, so one can forget the igni sign when fighting this being. The creature is also immune to poisons and bleeding. The elemental has no weaknesses, but most of the means available in the witchers' arsenal can be used against it to good effect.
Witcher 2 Bestiary Entries
How to survive an encounter with an earth element? Simple. Run. Fast as you can. – Nino Murk, bounty hunter Earth elementals are made of mud, clay, sand and rock dust clumped together with water and brought alive with magic. While seemingly slow and ponderous, there creatures are nevertheless dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. Earth elementals can withstand a tremendous amount of punishment. Due to their enormous mass they are virtually impossible to knock off balance. They do not bleed nor feel any pain from poison or even fire. They kill men with astonishing ease – whether by smashing them with their fists or hurling enormous stones at them. Their only weakness is their vulnerability to dimeritium dust – thus before combat one should prepare a full arsenal of bombs containing this ingredient.
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The first fire elemental was created by Ransant Alvaro. Sadly, flames engulfed his entire laboratory, burning it - along with every other building on his block - to ash. – Tarvix Sandoval, "Origins of Magic Arcana" Fire is the most destructive of the elements, thus the aggressive lethality of the creature that embodies its essence should come as no surprise. Fire elementals are forged in complicated magic rituals for one purpose: destruction. And they pursue this with murderous determination. This elemental attacks using fireballs and streams of flame which reduce anything in their path to ashes in the blink of an eye. Like golems and other elementals, poison does not touch it nor does it bleed. Fire-based spells not only do no harm but in fact strengthen it - thus one should by no means think of striking it with Igni. Though vulnerable to silver blades, getting within sword's reach of one is dangerous due to the furnace-like heart they emanate. When fighting a fire elemental one should thus strike from a distance, using frost-spewing and dimeritium bombs, for they will do it the most damage.
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I thought to myself - what's a hunk of ice doing in the middle of some lab? And then that hunk of ice got up and broke my legs. – Yannick Lovt, burglar An ice elemental is a mass of frozen water animated by magic. Deprived of consciousness or independent will, this elemental is boundlessly obedient to the orders of the mage who created it. Those orders usually contain but one syllable: kill. Ice elementals have no qualms about carrying out this order nor any particular difficulty in doing so. Gifted with incredible strength, they are completely invulnerable to poison and fire, deprived of sensitive organs, hard as permafrost and all in all incredibly difficult opponents. A witcher's only chance at tipping the scales towards victory is to toss a dimeritium bomb – shrapnel made of this metal interferes with the workings of the spell that gives this creature life. Beyond that remains only prayer.
Witcher 3 Bestiary Entries
So, much like the bestiary entries state, Elementals are summoned creatures that are most often bound to obey the orders of the summoner, which are often guarding duties. It is possible to fuck up the summoning and end up with a rogue elemental, which will usually kill the summoner and anyone else in the area.
The Ifrit from the first game don’t look like fire elementals in subsequent, but they are near exactly the same in the way they work, so they are being placed here. A Zerrikanian mage named Azar Javed often summons them during fights.
Fire elementals in Witcher 3 can have their flame temporarily doused with Aard, which allows you to get some hits in without being set on fire.
Ice elementals don’t get a lot of time in game, sadly.
Earth elementals are by far the most common—probably so a mage doesn’t have to worry about everything getting frozen or burned.
There’s a Count Kurt Dysart sitting in the Kingfisher, one of the nicest inns in Novigrad. He’s waiting for a Witcher to pick up his contract on the noticeboard in Hierarch Square or in Gildorf. The Count is, for a surprise, rather well-disposed towards Witchers, minus those of the Cat School. He’s even met a Wolf School Witcher with a name starting with a ‘b’, who he quite liked. (Berengar? is that you?? I’m glad you managed to leave this man with a good impression of you.)
The Count, of course, has a bit of a problem. He recently purchased a small mansion in the countryside outside of Novigrad, but something, which he described for lack of a better word as a haunting, is causing tremors and shaking the house. He wants you to investigate for him.
Geralt takes him up on it and heads out. The house shows genuine damage and you experience a number of tremors while present, so clearly there’s something going on. He can also pick up a journal from the immediately previous owners, which rather humorously details that there have been at least two instances of “it’s haunted, sell it quick!” happening, and the rather more useful bit of information that the house used to belong to a mage, who the neighbors believed to be summoning demons.
Geralt heads down to the basement and notices the flow of air through a crack in the wall. He knocks down the wall with Aard and finds himself in a small section of elven ruins.
There’s a journal you can pick up that details a bit more of what’s going on...
When dealing with Beings of this Nature, it is most vital to achieve Equilibrium between giving free rein to its Will and obstructing it with the Fetters of Servitude. The sagacious Elementalist who has tamed a magic Minion should not heed the sweet yet pernicious Urge to unbind the Being, for only Harm will come of it, Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth will be the only result. Likewise he who tightens his Servant's yoke overmuch will gain nothing from it, for his enchained Being will be to him dumb and dull as a Lump of Earth. The Key is to prepare a proper magic Barrier, one whose effectiveness shall be backed by a crystal of power. This crystal is of the utmost importance: if it should break, the barrier shall fail, yet worry not overmuch, for neither axe nor blade can harm it. A barrier thus secured shall serve as the Minion's Prison without unduly hindering its Power. The Ability to erect it properly, however, demands a high level of Proficiency, the kind no mere superficial Study or Practice can provide. The Bunglers and Ne'er-do-wells of our Profession need not apply! Right. Sounds suitably pompous. Must have Dukas make a clean copy of this first draft, prepare it for publication. Wonder where that clod is, I sent him out for cheese and ink ages ago...
As the journal hints, the source of the tremors is an earth elemental, named Therazane, stuck behind a force field that’s almost completely broken through. Geralt can break the crystal powering the field with a well-placed Aard, but before you do so, take a nice long look at the not-very-sturdy support pillars in the same room. 
If you want to kill the damn elemental without both of those pillars collapsing, you need to be high enough level to kill Therazane fast before it inevitably knocks them down.
Either way, kill the elemental, take a trophy, and head back for your payment.
If both the supports were broken during the fight, however, some time later you’ll find a man standing by the pond who will give you some somber news: the Count was investigating the ruins in the basement when the ceiling collapsed, killing him.
....whoops.
Thankfully keeping even one intact should keep this Witcher-appreciative noble alive, so make sure you’re in good enough shape to take Therazane out as quickly as possible if you want to avoid the sad news.
....I tried seven times before coming back five levels later.
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fyeahwonderbat · 5 years
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In the Middle of a Broken Constellation - PT. 14
Pairing: WonderBat (Wonder Woman x Batman) Rating: T / 14A Universe: N/A - Reader’s Choice Previous Chapter: <- Chapter 13
“Donna!” Diana cheered as she stared up at her sister, surprised by her sudden appearance in the apartment’s window. With the plastic dinner table pressed up against the wall, it took a moment or two for the shock to subside before she rearranged her ‘dining room’ furniture and welcome her guest inside. Dressed in her black armoured suit, it looked as though she had arrived with the expectation of a brawl.
But as she slipped into the apartment, she quietly looked around the room, landing softly on her feet on the hardwood floors in the exact moment her surveying gaze reached the wooden slats. “It’s good to see you, both of you.” Donna assured them both, but focused her gaze on Jason.
It looked as though he was returning a smile when he answered her. “You too. You answering our distress call?” His posture was relaxed, his grin was tender. Diana knew there was a possibility that they worked together as Titans before. She had just never had the luxury to ask.
The tone of voice that Donna used was very casual, solidifying proof of their friendly bond. “Well, it sounded like you might need a helping hand. Gotham City isn’t usually on my radar, so I imagine that the situation here is rather bleak.”
A nervous glance was exchanged between Diana and Jason instantly. But neither had the chance to truly describe the situation and all of its gorey details to her at that moment. The dramatic pause of their conversation was filled with an odd beeping. It was unfamiliar to her, but she watched as Jason’s reflexes kicked in and he pulled back the sleeve of his sweater to reveal an elongated wristband. Familiar with the gadgets of the Batman family, she knew instantly what it was.
“Red Hood here.” replied Jason to the summons of his cuff.
Though fighting an irritating static, Dick’s voice came through the communicator inside of the wristband. “We need backup! I’m at Miller Harbour fighting off Falcone’s goons, but he’s escaped in one of his fancy Cadillacs and he’s headed into the East End!”
“I’m on it.” Immediately, Jason was raring to go.
“Huntress is on his tail, so watch out for her.”
Sensing that the call was about to end, Diana piped up. “Wait! Nightwing, do you need help?”
To her surprise, Jason hung up the call before running off to his bedroom. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Just go! He’ll say he can handle it, even if he can’t.”
Donna sighed at her side. “He’s right.”
“Well then,” Diana hummed, reaching for the top of her zipper at the back of her neck, giving it a rather sharp tug. She hadn’t anticipated jumping into another fight today, nor had she wanted to. But with her sister by her side and her pent emotions having spilled out of her just moments ago, it seemed like the perfect outlet to destress after a rather tiring day. “After you.”
Diana landed on the shoulders of one the mafioso the moment she arrived at Miller Harbour. The man staggered, and his surrounding cohorts gawked at her with a fear in her eyes that she assumed they saved for Batman. But while they were distracted by her presence, they were in no way prepared for Donna bulldozing through them with her shield acting as a battering ram. Her pure strength charged through their unsuspecting bodies with such a ferocity, she mowed them down in the blink of an eye.
There was a crowd of one hundred thugs, meaning they’d be done rather shortly.
She heard the hammer of a pistol tug back from behind her, causing her to turn around with her bracelet already drawn up over her face. Diana felt nothing, but she did hear the familiar sound of a bullet casing reflecting off of her armour. Taking that as a challenge, she faced forward once again, leaned over her the head of the man she was still standing on top of, then threw her body backwards. Her foot came out immediately and she kicked the goon in the face before landing behind him.
“Does Mr. Falcone not allow you to watch the news?” Diana wondered aloud. Taunting them was all too easy when every other villain continued to unintelligently use firearms against her.
An array of firearms were directed her way in an act of blatant retaliation.
All she could do was sigh when the shots rang out, her arms moving fluidly to shield her from the horde of bullets firing at her. Unimpressed, uninterested in such a match where her power was superior to their mortal strength, Diana was ready to wrap things up quickly. Her legs tensed before she ran toward the group of criminals without any discrimination. Her fists were already balled when she pulled her right one back and slammed it into the gut of the first person she could reach. The impact stole his breath away, so she utilized his lifeless form and lifted him off of the ground. She spun him around like a human propeller, then threw him into the crowd on her left.
It pushed their numbers back on one side of the battlefield, allowing her to focus on the other. Ten men tried to pile themselves on top of her at once, with two of them grabbing the wrist she’d used to nail their comrade in his jaw. Diana tried to tear her arm away before anyone else could dare touch her, but she felt someone weave their arms under hers and try to lock their hands behind her head. The gaul of these crooks were really beginning to infuriate her.
She could easily predict that another two goons intended to subdue her left hand too, but she wouldn’t allow that. Diana threw her elbow back and slammed it into the bridge of one man’s nose. Then, just as swiftly, she slammed the side of her hand into the throat of the next person who tried to approach her. To remove the three people attached to her, she’d decided it’d be best to use her other limbs. Throwing her foot back, an unnecessary amount of Amazonian force was used to knock one of her bracelet-holding men off of their feet. With less weight to manage, she knew she could handle the rest of her adversaries in a matter of seconds.
One, she allowed herself to fall back and land on top of the man trying to pin her shoulders back. The sound of the wind being knocked out of him flew passed her ear, and he loosened his hold on her a fraction of a second later.
Two, her feet planted themselves on either side of the man’s fallen body so she could fling herself upright once again. The motions had dizzied the last of her human shackles, which she used to her advantage. Their gazes met - hers carrying the fire of battle within them, his revealing the fear he felt deep within his soul - just before she ripped one of his hands off of her.
Three, Diana tore his grip off of her just before she sent him flying into one of the people she had previously knocked down, unwilling to allow him to stand.
Four, she leapt into the air and reached for her lasso. The hoop was made larger and larger while she scouted the grounds of the dock. Donna had handled a great mass of them, while Dick was still struggling with the men who relied on their guns.
Five, she threw down the opening in her Lasso of Truth, capturing the mafia members belonging to Mr. Falcone. Confused, crumpled on the ground in the different piles of criminals they had all made, she tied them together like the untamed creatures they were. They whined and whimpered but she couldn’t care less.
Falling back down to the ground, Diana gave a sharp tug on her lasso to guarantee the tightness of the hold she had on Falcone’s men. She couldn’t help but to glower at them all, letting the adrenaline of the battle wash over her one last time before it left her system. Only once she felt Donna come to stand next to her did she snap out of her hateful daze.
“Good idea,” Donna managed to say before taking a deep breath.
“We’ll just need to tie them up with actual rope before the cops come.” Nightwing pointed out as he made his way over to them, returning his signature sticks back into their holsters.
Trying to appear as light as her friends were, Diana attempted some dry humour. “Luckily, I think we’ll be able to find some here.” She then nodded in the direction of the tethered boats nearby at the port, implying that she’d be willing to lift any ship onto the shore if they needed it.
“Yeah,” Nightwing agreed softly, before turning his attention to Donna. Just like Jason, he was immediately focused on the appearance of her Amazon sister more than anything else that was going on. “Hey, Troia.”
“Hello, Nightwing,” she answered him sweetly. However, Diana couldn’t help but notice the tiniest rise in her pitch when greeting Dick. “I hope you don’t mind that we crashed your party.”
It took a great deal of control not to side-eye her sister. Diana had known many superheroes who made quips after a battle, trying to lighten the mood with the most simplest attempts at a sassy retort. She’d never known Donna to be one of those people, though. It was absolutely intriguing to her now that she inquire about her fellow Amazon’s relationships with the other men in the Batman family, when she next had the chance. There were more pressing matters at the moment at the harbour. “So what was Mr. Falcone doing here tonight? Why did he bring so many men to the docks?”
“We were following a lead,” Nighting began while keeping his attention locked onto Donna. Once the seriousness of his mission reoccurred to him, he physically withdrew from his stupor and spoke to them both. “Huntress found out that Falcone had a package being delivered here at harbour. Something called ‘fisherman equipment’, which sounded really… well, fishy.”
Donna agreed, deducing her own suspicion from the information they were given. “I can’t imagine the man of a powerful criminal organization caring much for a shipment of fishing rods and lures.”
Diana nodded. “So what was he really receiving here tonight?”
“Let’s find out together.” Dick smiled as he led the two of them over to an unmarked delivery parked next to the dock gates. Diana looked over the small vehicle and found it ever more curious that there no less than a hundred men present to guard whatever the shipment was, yet there weren’t enough cars or trucks or boats at the harbour for all of the men to escape. It seemed quite possible that Falcone had been willing to sacrifice men if it meant a handful of them had gotten away with his special delivery.
“I had pulled the driver out of here” - he explained to them how he knew the keys to the truck were still in the ignition as he retrieved them from the driver’s seat before moving to the latch on the back - “to keep him from driving off. I called Jason for back-up before jumping in to make sure they didn’t leave with this.”
“What do you think it could be?” Donna inquired, referring to the expert on Gotham City crime. She had already stuck her hand out toward the latch on the rear door, but Dick still reached for it at the same time.
For some reason that didn’t register with Diana, they each hesitated, exchanged glances, before  before Donna dove for it and tossed it back with ease. Their focus once again drawn to one another, a pregnant pause sat upon all three of them for much longer than it should have, before she stepped aside and let him throw open the back door. Again, Diana was oddly intrigued by the tension between ‘Nightwing and Troia’. It was both comforting and a tad frustrating to know that every generation of the Batman-Wonder Woman families had to square off with one another every chance they could get.
‘Riveting’ was another word for it.
But nothing was as riveting in that moment than what the ‘fishing equipment’ turned out to be.
Diana’s gasp garnered Dick and Donna’s attention, both of them turning their heads towards her sharply at the same time. When she couldn’t manage the words to describe what she was looking at fast enough, they followed her gaze to see what could have caused her to feel so aghast. She heard them gasp just as loudly as she did, only with the pair of their voices sounding louder together. Nevertheless, they couldn’t overtake the sound of the powerful vibration coming from Aquaman’s trident, laying unceremoniously before them in the back of a mafia leader’s shipping truck.
((Well, Diana was worried about Arthur and Barry, and now she knows she had a right to be! Who got ahold of Aquaman’s trident? Why did they think to send it to Falcone? Also, what the heck is going on with Dick and Donna!? Well, if you stick around, you’ll find out… something next Monday! See ya! ~ Maiden))
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The Tale of Tales Chapter 48
Minerva was feeling very proud of herself. She had successfully rid herself of her pesky stepdaughter and was now going to make Prince Natsu her husband. She sat up in her room applying make up, dressing into her most elegant gown, and putting on her finest jewels. Once she was ready she slipped the love potion into a goblet which she was planning to serve to Natsu.
"Everything is finally coming together." She said. "One sip of this and the prince will be mine forever."
"Be warned my queen all may not be what it seems." The mirror spoke.
"What do you mean?"
"The potion and poison can wound anyone,
But there is a way both can be undone."
"Are you saying that there is a way for the spells and potions I used from that book to be broken? How? What way?"
"A force that originates from the heavens above,
This great power is called true love."
"True love?"
"By a kiss from one who loves with their whole their heart and soul,
Then good shall take it's toll, the spell will break,
Natsu will be free, and Juvia will wake."
"A kiss from their true love? No fear of that. As we speak Juvia is being buried alive and Natsu won't even remember his true love when I'm done with him."
Once she was finished she sent for the guards to fetch Natsu.
"The queen requests your presence." The guard told Natsu.
He and Gray looked at each other. Now was the time to put their plan into action. As soon as the door to Natsu's cell was opened Natsu began to attack the guards who tried to restrain him and put him in shackles. He jerked the keys out of the guard's hand and tossed it to Gray who unlocked himself. Both men were soon fighting back against the guards. After knocking out all four of them they attempted to make their escape from the castle.
Unfortunately Minerva had seen them escaped and she quickly summoned more guards to recapture them. Natsu and Gray were both strong young men with great fighting skills but even they didn't stand a chance against twenty men.
"There's too many of them!" Gray said.
"You need to get out of here!" Natsu told him.
"What about you?"
"She wants to marry me so she needs me alive but you'll hang if you get caught. She wants you dead! I'll hold them off for as long as I can but you need to go now!"
"Alright but I'll come back with help!"
Natsu grabbed a nearby battering ram and threw it at the guards knocking a lot of them down and while he fought the the ones who remained standing Gray climbed up a rope and escaped out the window. He then nabbed a horse from the stables and rode off toward the forest. The royal archers shot arrows at him but he managed to get away. Poor Natsu wasn't so lucky and ended up getting recaptured and brought to Minerva's bedchamber.
"Leave us." She told her guards.
They did as she was told and the two were left alone.
"Don't bother trying to escape." She told him before snapping her fingers. Suddenly Natsu found himself in chains.
"What are you going to do to me?" He asked her.
"Nothing. I just want to serve you a drink."
She held up the goblet.
"Like hell I'm drinking anything you give me!" He said.
"Oh really?"
She approached him with the goblet ready. Natsu quickly closed his mouth and turned away. Unfortunately Minerva's response was to hold his nose closed.
"You have to breathe sometime."
Natsu held his breath for as long as he could while trying desperately to break free from Minerva's grip. He had strong lungs but they weren't strong enough to hold out forever. All too soon he opened his mouth to take a breath and Minerva shoved the goblet to his lips forcing every last drop down his throat.
...
With Juvia presumed killed by her stepmother the fairies realized that it would only be a matter of time before the evil spirit of the mirror was released. They quickly set out an emergency call to every fairy in Fiore informing them of the terrible news.
"All the fairies should be here within a few days." Levy told them.
"Will all the fairies together be able to help?" Lucy asked.
"I hope so. I really hope so because if not then we're all done for."
"Hey I've got some news." Gajeel said coming back from scouting the area.
"What is it?" Erza asked.
"I just heard some traveling minstrels in the forest say that the queen is getting married."
"Again? To who?" Lucy asked.
"The prince."
As soon as those words were spoken Lucy felt her heart stop and her blood run cold.
"Wha...What?" She said in a whisper.
"But I thought he was dragged off by some monster." Romeo said.
"Yeah but apparently the queen had her men save him from the chimera and he was so grateful to her that he's decided to make her his wife."
"That's... That's not true." Lucy said trembling. "That can't be true."
"I know what I heard. They're to be married by tomorrow evening."
Lucy couldn't breathe. Her world seemed to be crumbling around her. She wanted to scream from the top of her lungs that it wasn't true. That it was all just some horrible lie. Unfortunately she found herself to do so. Tears formed in her eyes and she ran away.
"What's the matter with her?" Gajeel asked confused.
"She loves him you idiot." Levy said.
"Really?"
"It was so obvious."
"Could you really not tell?" Erza asked.
Gajeel only shrugged. Levy and Erza went after her. They found her sitting by the edge of a lake weeping.
"Lucy I'm sure it's not what you think." Levy said.
"I knew it." She sobbed. "I knew it all along. I knew that there was no way he could ever truly love me. I knew it and yet I pet myself believe him when he said that he loved me. I'm such a fool!"
"Don't say such things Lucy." Erza said.
"He said that he loved me! He said that he would love no other! But he lied! He lied!"
"Lucy maybe those minstrels were wrong or maybe Gajeel misheard. I refuse to believe that Natsu would be so cruel."
"I saw the way he looked at you at the festival." Levy said. "That was love. He loves you."
"No he doesn't!" She snapped. "If he did then he wouldn't be marrying my aunt! He thinks I'm nothing!"
"That's not true!" Erza said.
"Yes it is!"
"You know it isn't!"
"I can't take it anymore! The lies! The false hope! It's just too much! My parents and my best friend are dead and the man I love is marrying the woman who made my life hell! I have nothing! And I have no one!"
"Lucy." Levy moved to comfort her but Lucy only flinched away.
"Just leave me alone! Please! I just want to be alone!"
The two looked at Lucy with compassion and understanding. They wanted to stay and comfort her but they abided by her wishes and left her alone. Alone at last, Lucy could only cry.
"I'm sorry Mother." She wept. "I'm sorry Father! I know you wanted me to always be good and have faith but I can't do it anymore! I just can't! How can I when all the people I love have been taken from me? I'm sorry but I have to break my promise to you! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"
And she continued to cry all through the night.
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rainforestgeek · 6 years
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If you lose your strength to stand (I’m gonna reach for your hand) part 6
And here is chapter six!
AO3 link
Keith recognized her instantly. One of Lotor’s old generals, the blue one with big eyes. He wracked his brain for her name – Acxa. She slipped her way through the fringes of the crowd, nearly invisible if it weren’t that she was the only person in the city not socializing and celebrating. Something Keith could relate to on principle, but the last time he’d seen her she was working for Haggar – who was with Sendak. Never mind that she’d saved his life that night.
He reported this to Selick. The agent’s gravelly voice responded. “What is her position?”
“A couple hundred meters south of the City Palace. It looks like she’s making her way there.” Keith slunk in the shadows parallel to her path, trying to pass and cut her off. Selick told him to keep his eyes on her. He checked with the border patrol for their status.
“It’s been inactive,” Nox reported. “Do you want us in the city for backup?”
“No. The general may be attempting to draw us to her and leave the boundaries unguarded.”
Keith kept pace with Acxa. Her path began to veer closer to his own. He quietly told the others, “Lotor’s old generals have been working with the druid witch, so keep your eyes peeled for robeasts.” That was when he saw his chance: a narrow but open split in the crowd straight toward his target a few meters away. It was a noisy area and the opening was in her blind spot. He swiftly closed the distance, grabbed her arm and locked it behind her back, and slipped his dagger against her unarmored waist.
After training with the Blades for a long time, Keith learned all the major weak spots on galran bodies (including, apparently, his own, which clarified his dad’s old war with the medical establishment). His blade was pressed against a major artery running down her right side. If he slashed or stabbed that spot, she’d bleed out in less than a dobosh. It was a pretty dumb weakness, but like many bipedal species galra often left their torsos minimally protected to avoid restricted agility in battle.
Acxa twitched, as though about to defend herself but stopped. Smart. Keith could kill her before she’d be able to do anything with her free arm. Trying to be as discreet as possible, Keith pushed her forward and hid them behind a monumental, silvery pillar framing the City Palace’s front steps. It seems he intercepted her just in time. He pinned her against the metal.
“Where’s Haggar?” Keith growled.”
She looked at him coolly. “Why should I tell you that?”
“Because she’s a demented witch who tortures and experiments on people.”
“Not much of an answer. Besides – ” her tone was frustratingly nonchalant “ – you won’t be able to stop Haggar, no matter what I do or do not tell you.”
“We’ll see about that.” Keith summoned a pair of alien handcuffs and secured Acxa’s wrists behind her back. “Selick, I have the general I was following captured. We’re just outside the palace. Keep watch for the red one and the big one.”
“I have eyes on the latter,” replied Kivva. “She’s close to your position, Keith.”
“Do NOT engage the other general, Keith – I can hear you thinking it.” Keith rolled his eyes. “Get out of there, we’ll take care of her.”
“Yes, sir.” He turned Acxa around and pushed her toward the Blades’ rendezvous point. Unfortunately that split second with his knife pulled away was all she needed.
Keith hit the ground hard, vision spinning. Somehow she’d swept his legs out from under him with one foot. She shoved her boot against his neck, cutting off most of his air supply. A brief image flashed through his mind, of a similar but much more playful position he’d been in just a day ago. He saw light brown eyes instead of yellow and blue.
What the fuck. Chalking it up to oxygen deprivation, Keith shoved aside the memory of Matt’s smirking face. He summoned his sword. The slash at Acxa’s abdomen barely grazed her,but only because she jumped off him and out of range. Keith gasped for air, stumbled to his feet, and attacked.
It was easily his most goddamn frustrating fight to date. The ex-general was unarmed and both her hands were restrained, but she still evaded each of his attacks fluidly. And holy crap, she knew how to kick an enemy where it counted.
A deep voice bellowed out, “ACXA!” That same second Keith heard the distinct sounds of laser fire start up. The burly general with huge ears charged toward them, dodging the snipers trained on her. In his moment of distraction, Acxa rammed Keith with her heavily armored shoulder and knocked him off balance. She spun and snatched her gun out of his holster.
The newcomer – what was her name again? – slashed Acxa’s bonds and promptly got shot in the leg for pausing her evasive maneuvers.
Acxa trained her weapon on Keith. “Zethrid, call it in,” she ordered. Zethrid was yelling and dodging fire, looking way passed annoyed. The hit had barely slowed her down.
On impulse Keith lowered his mask. He and Acxa stood in a frozen standoff for several moments. She was too far away for him to attack with his sword and she had a short-range energy pistol aimed and ready. Whether he charged her or not, his chances of getting shot looked much higher than getting to stab her.
A shadow passed over them with a great whooshing noise. A dark, slightly beat up spacecraft hovered over them with the cargo doors open and a ladder hanging down. Once Zethrid had leapt on board, it moved closer to Keith and Acxa and she grabbed hold of the ladder, eyes and gun staying trained on his face. He watched, frustrated and helpless, as they sped away, vanishing into the atmosphere in a matter of ticks.
--
Lance’s good mood began to sour at the sound of Shiro’s voice in his ear like a cold wind. “Paladins, get back to the surface. Now.” The Black Paladin sounded tight and on edge. Shiro never used to make Lance feel nervous, except in fanboyish excitement. Nowadays, unless he was in a particularly good mood, Lance tensed in anticipation every time Shiro talked to him. And he sure as hell did not sound like he was in a good mood.
“We’re coming. Did something happen? The festival and feast shouldn’t be over for another – ”
“Lance. Just get down here. You, Hunk, and Pidge meet us on the bridge.” Shiro’s comm cut out with a sense of finality.
Lance looked over towards the Yellow Lion. “That was weird, right?”
Hunk responded, “I guess something got past us?”
“Well that is what Keith was for. Let’s go see if he did his job.”
They blasted toward the planet, ducking and dodging through the debris field the fight had left behind. Lance couldn’t help but grin at the sight of enemy ships blasted into shrapnel. They’d dealt a major blow against the rogue galra today.
Mostly thanks to Pidge. He and Hunk covered her back while she snuck aboard, but let’s be honest: taking down that battleship was all her. It was crippled and dead in space, completely the handiwork of one tiny girl with a huge brain.
Lance soared into the atmosphere and flipped open a channel to Pidge.
“Hey Pidge, just making sure you heard Shiro say get to the bridge.”
The channel was silent. Like, completely silent. Frowning, Lance double-checked the connection. Yep, that was definitely Green. Maybe she’d turned off her helmet? Lance hit the button that makes a light flash inside the other lions’ cockpits to signal a they were trying to be contacted.
“Pidge? Where are you, are you okay?” She still didn’t respond. Hunk tried to get her with the same result.
Oh, god. What if she got really hurt? That blast was pretty huge. But she sounded fine! Okay, she sounded rattled, but –
Panic setting in, Lance repeatedly smashed the light signal, trying hard to get her attention. Hunk kept calling her name. Lance told him to shut up, listened intently, hardly seeing what was in front of him. And he heard nothing. Not even the sound of her breaths.
Lance landed Red roughly in her hangar, hitting the floor too fast and too hard, making her grumble at him. But behind her irritation she sympathized with his fear. He leapt out of her mouth before she’d even finished lowering her jaw and hit the ground running. Nothing but his heart pounded harder than his feet as he sprinted to the Green Lion’s hangar.
Hunk rattled away in his ears, “Oh god, she’s still not answering! Maybe her helmet’s damaged? Maybe she just disconnected? Did something happen to her, Lance! Is Pidge okay?!”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know that, Hunk?” Lance snapped. Hunk went quiet. Lance skidded to a stop in front of Green, who towered regally over him.
“Pidge!” Lance shouted. “PIDGE!”
For several heart-stopping moments, nothing happened. Just Lance sweating and heaving and staring at a giant, motionless robot with the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He tore off his helmet and threw it to the side in frustration. Hot tears forced their way out of his eyes. “Come on! Let me in!”
His plea must’ve done something, because Green flickered to life and finally lowered her head to grant him entrance. Lance gratefully sprinted into the dark cockpit and nearly crashed into the pilot’s seat – where a small figure sat still and slumped over. Like a doll with the strings cut. Lance carefully removed Pidge’s helmet and took her face in his hands, inspecting her carefully. No visible injuries, but her skin was unnaturally pale and clammy. Her thick bangs clung to her sweaty forehead. He pressed his fingers under her jaw, where he was relieved to feel a warm, steady heartbeat throbbing in her neck.
Lance gathered Pidge into his arms and carried her out into the hangar, where Hunk stood in the doorway with eyes the size of plates.
“She’s alive,” Lance rushed to tell him, “but knocked out. And I…I don’t…” Lance looked helplessly at the Green Paladin’s limp body. Out here in the light, he could really see how scorched, scratched, battered, and even dented her armor was. She may not have been gushing blood, but that didn’t mean she was safe.
Hunk looked her over when they reached him. “God knows what kind of internal injuries she’s got. Let’s get her to the med bay.” Hunk moved to take her, but Lance held her closer to his chest and started walking. He distantly heard Hunk radio Coran.
Lance tried his damnedest to get there quickly without jostling Pidge too much. He didn’t want to make her injuries worse, but he also couldn’t risk taking too long to get her in a healing pod. What if she was bleeding internally? What if she bled out before they got there? What if she’d hit her head and he couldn’t tell under all that fluffy brown hair and she had brain damage –
Oh my god, shut up, Lance told his melodramatic brain, and tried to stop thinking. Pidge’s cheek was pressed against his shoulder. The armor fogged slightly where her breaths brushed against it. If she didn’t look so sick, he’d think she were just sleeping.
Coran had to all but pry her out of Lance’s arms. While the old Altean medic eased her out of her battered armor and into a white medical bodysuit, Lance paced around the room trying (and failing) not to worry. He felt like his very blood vessels were shaking with fear. He couldn’t even relax once Pidge was safe and suspended in the healing pod. He leaned over Coran’s shoulder and craned his neck to get a good look at the monitor with Pidge’s readings – never mind that the Altean runes may as well have been Japanese for all that Lance could understand it.
“Is she gonna be okay? These things can heal anything right? Right? She didn’t sound hurt when she got out, but oh god we should have made sure – what’s that red flashing? What does it mean?”
“Whoa, calm down, number Three.” Coran didn’t bother pushing Lance off of him. “Pidge is going to be fine.”
Hunk dropped his head onto Lance’s shoulder and sagged against him with a relieved sigh.
Coran continued, “She got herself quite a lot of bruises, a few fractures, a little internal bleeding…but that appears to have clotted nicely already. From what I can tell, she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion from the battle. Her sympathetic nervous system took quite a lot out of her today..”
Lance almost cried. The tension fled from his muscles and left him ready to collapse. Which, under Hunk’s considerable body weight, he did, and both paladins ended up sprawled on the floor. Lance’s heartbeat finally slowed to something reasonable.
Behind them the medical bay doors hissed open. Frantic footsteps echoed into the room and Matt Holt skidded into view. He didn’t spare a glance for the other men in the room, just glued himself to the glass of Pidge’s healing pod. A familiar figure with dark, messy hair and black armor followed more slowly. He approached Matt and hesitantly squeezed his shoulder.
“KEITH!” A stressed and jumpy Hunk sprang upright and swept Keith into a tight hug. Maybe because he himself was emotionally strung-out, Lance burst int hysterical laughter at the expression on Keith’s face, which was smushed against Hunks chest plate.
Matt turned to them and glared. “Anyone care to tell me what happened to my little sister?”
Lance coughed and sobered. His voice stopped working.
Hunk saved him from trying to answer. “She snuck aboard Sendak’s frigate, blew it up, got back to the Castle, and passed out from over-exertion. The blast beat her up, but don’t worry!” Hunk added quickly. “It wasn’t anything too major. She’ll be good as new by…when’s Pidge getting out, Coran?”
Coran stroked his ginger moustache as he examined Pidge’s readings. “Oh, should be around tomorrow morning. But with a metabolism as fast as Number Five’s it may well be sooner.”
Matt reattached himself to the glass, gazing wide-eyed at Pidge’s sleeping face. “My little sister is such a fucking badass,” he announced in an awe-struck voice.
Well, that answers the question of where Pidge gets her sailor mouth, Lance thought. His older siblings had washed his tongue with soap for saying less. A throaty chuckle from his left distracted him, and he whipped his head around to see Keith smiling at Matt. His eyes crinkled around the corners and his cheeks were slightly pink. His expression was so soft that Lance barely recognized him.
“Hey, Keith.”
“Yeah?”
Lance paused. “What happened down here that made Shiro call us back so urgently?”
The pleasant look on Keith’s face darkened. “You were right about needing ground support. Lotor’s old generals were in the crowd. Two of them got away after we stopped them from blowing up the City Palace. Lotor captured the third trying to assassinate Allura.”
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evolutionsvoid · 7 years
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Ver'Rahl constantly balances on the brink of madness. His failed soul transfer has led to dozens of voices in his head, filling his thoughts with mournful cries, wails, laments and voices that insult and belittle him. Despite his great power as a necromancer, he cannot be rid of them, as they are embedded in his own soul. To add to this state of insanity, he has to deal with unruly undead, failed experiments, a backstabbing minion and an order of freaks that somehow thwart his best laid plans. Needless to say, his fortress is not the place to be after a defeat, as his rage is unleashed and he destroys anything in front of him during his mindless rampage. But one of the biggest things that constantly annoys him and brings him misery is the fact that he has created a lethal abomination of insane power, and has no idea how he did it.
It all started when Ver'Rahl assaulted a nearby village and captured the survivors for experiments in his fortress. The news of his actions reached The Knights of the Wrong Table, who infiltrated his fortress and freed the trapped villagers. His undead put up a valiant fight, but the order won the day and escaped his walls. Ver'Rahl watched from atop his spiked walls and became enraged at his loss. As the prisoners got to safety, the order finished off the pursuing undead and looked to Ver'Rahl, who could do nothing but hurl necrotic blasts and obscenities. Feeling confident in their victory, Vikus shouted out to the furious necromancer, telling him that an army of undead could never defeat the justice of a knight. Already angered in defeat and drowning in the screaming voices in his head, Vikus' remark was the final small push that plummeted him into madness. Ver'Rahl flew into a blind rage and called forth every ounce of energy in his being. In the boiling stew of chaos within his mind, one goal emerged: Make a knight. In languages unknown to him, and with spells he didn't even know existed, Ver'Rahl twisted and shaped the many defeated dead that lay before his fortress. Lightening and fire blasted the corpse-infused earth, as he hurled everything he had into this one insane maelstrom. The earth and flesh rose up, mimicking his movements and forming into a humanoid shape. The tempest of dark energy embedded itself into the form and brought forth twisted life. With a final pulse, the mangled form hardened into rock and became still. The exertion of this madness disintegrated Ver'Rahl's skull head and caused him to collapse. General Nekrosis carried the unconscious necromancer to safety, as the order stared at the immense statue before them. The rock cracked and crumbled, revealing the abomination that lay inside. Tearing off its stony skin, Darkest Knight emerged into the mortal world. The order wasted no time in attacking the monstrosity, but the previous battle had tired them, and this being had just been freshly risen. Its long limbs swept the order away, its strength toppling even Golem Knight. The monster was fast and fierce, and it wasn't long before the order was forced to retreat from the abomination, lest it harm the villagers. Darkest Knight did not pursue the fleeing enemy, it only turned away and scaled the fortress walls, searching for its master. Ever since its bizarre conception, Darkest Knight has fought on Ver'Rahl's side. The massive creature is Ver'Rahl's greatest siege weapon and is always called upon when he seeks to topple a castle or fortress. Attitude - There is not much to say about Darkest Knight's personality, as he is a rage-filled beast that just seeks to destroy. It smashes and devours without pause and obeys Ver'Rahl's orders without question. It enjoys destroying structures and buildings, and bounds through shattered cities with reckless abandon. To many, Darkest Knight is another mindless undead monstrosity that seeks to devour life. A few though, like Ver'Rahl and Nekrosis, have noticed some odd moments with the creature. Strange occurrences that last only a few seconds, and leave even the necromancer questioning what he just saw. To them, there is the wonder if Darkest Knight is smarter than they believe. He obeys commands without question, but bizarre incidents have left them wondering if there is a hidden intelligence within that screaming, muscled mass. Relations - Ver'Rahl is the only real being Darkest Knight has a relation with. Darkest Knight is loyal to its master and will abandon its battle to protect him if he falls. It follows his orders and commands without question or hesitancy, and is so reliable to Ver'Rahl, that he has used Darkest Knight in ambushes, sieges and even has used himself as bait so that Darkest Knight can attack. Outside of battle, Darkest Knight will just ahng around the fortress, waiting for orders from his master. If Ver'Rahl is outside, he will often follow him around. At these times, Ver'Rahl treats Darkest Knight like a pet. He has even been seen feeding Darkest Knight remnants of things that he has vomited up during tantrums. Strange otherworldly substances that Darkest Knight enjoys eating like dog biscuits. With this amazing creation, Ver'Rahl is always on a quest to try and replicate the spells that birthed Darkest Knight. But the things that happen during his insane bouts are lost in the whirlpool of chaos, and most of the knowledge only emerges during these tantrums. Much like the experiments for smarter, stronger Undead, these attempts have led to failures and seething piles of flesh. At times, the image of Darkest Knight is frustrating to Ver'Rahl, as it is a reminder of one of his greatest achievements he cannot even replicate. Besides these few occasions, Ver'Rahl views Darkest Knight as his greatest weapon, and only unleashes it during missions of great importance and need. Darkest Knight is rarely sent out on its own, most of the time Ver'Rahl is there to give commands and oversee the operation. Darkest Knight has also aided Ver'Rahl in times of madness. In some instances, when Ver'Rahl falls to insanity, he may summon creatures from another realm that he cannot control. If these beings turn against Ver'Rahl, he will work to destroy them so that they do not harm his master. At times, that means working alongside the Knights of the Wrong Table so that this new alien being does not wipe them all out. Despite being completely obedient and loyal, there is something unsettling about it, even to its creator. There was an incident with the Darkest Knight that only Ver'Rahl and Nekrosis know about. One time after a loss, Ver'Rahl was on his usual tantrum, shooting bolts of energy and breaking furniture. During this anger, Ver'Rahl lashed out at Darkest Knight, hitting him with a blast of magic. This attack was not dangerous or destructive, with the shot leaving just a burn mark on its skin. The retaliation by Darkest Knight was brief but intense, leaving Ver'Rahl beaten and bruised, but with no major damage. The brutal attack though, made a clear message to Ver'Rahl: Don't do that again. This attack has left the two disturbed by the idea that there may be something else to Darkest Knight that they don't know. His obedience to orders and this attack on his own master has Ver'Rahl wondering how much Darkest Knight is under control, and how much is Darkest Knight just following along with it. Subordinates - None Abilities - Darkest Knight combines agility, power and ferocity to make an undead powerhouse. Its long limbs allow it to sprint, swing, climb and leap with surprising speed. Castle walls are either climbed or hurdled over. Fleeing enemies are outrun and slaughtered. Spears, rocks and magic spells are dodged with ease, as it contorts its body to avoid damaging attacks. Arrows aren't even dodged, as they uselessly embed themselves into its flesh. Its strength allows it to smash through most structures and take down heavy hitting enemies. Catapults and huts are seized and flung by it. Iron gates are battered down and trampled. Combining this strength with its speed turns Darkest Knight into a battering ram, plowing through the battlefield. Its claws and spikes are used to tear through prey. Its long arms can sweep large areas and spring into devastating punches. Its mouth can stretch open to engulf man-sized prey, and its rows of teeth impales all caught inside. As an undead, Darkest Knight can take a high amount of punishment before being out of the fight. Wounds and cuts don't phase it, and even the most brutal injuries are shrugged off or ignored. In one case, Alvea broke its jaw with a pillar, and Darkest Knight still fought with the same ferocity. The only way to kill Darkest Knight is to dismember it or turn its body to ash. The monstrosity has to literally be beaten to a pulp before it succumbs to death. But though it seems to be a mindless beast, Darkest Knight knows when to retreat. After receiving too many wounds, Darkest Knight will flee the battle and return to the fortress. In the safety of the base, it will form a fleshy cocoon around its body, and use it to heal its wounds. The length of time it is in the cocoon depends on the number and severity of the wounds it received. With its arms and jaws broken, body covered in slashes and embedded with dozens of arrows, Darkest Knight has emerged from its cocoon weeks later looking good as new. Tools - Darkest Knight's greatest tools are his own limbs and impossible strength. The only real times he uses tools is when he grabs chunks of buildings or towers to smash opponents with. Slinging boulders and rubble is a common strategy of his, usually taking out siege weapons that are pestering him. Weaknesses - Darkest Knight's sheer size makes him an easy target to hit, allowing siege weapons to be used against him. Though Darkest Knught feels very little pain, this can be a problem. Attacks from behind or the side can be ignored to the point where a foe can cause lots of bodily damage before Darkest Knight realizes the threat. Magic is effective against him, as he has no armor or runes to protect against spells. His ignorance to pain and damage can cause him to charge right into devastating spells, forgetting the importance of dodging during his blind fury.
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joebuscus1031 · 7 years
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Samurai Jack season 5 episode 7
First off before I get started, let's have a moment of silence for jacks beard. As someone who has a beard....I kinda died a lil inside when I saw the beard go..... ..... ..... Okay now that being said last nights episode was friggin' amazing as always ! A-l-O-T Of things happened and I'd be lying if I said I didn't watch it for more times afterwards.... I am probably going to watch it over and over the rest of this week before episode eight comes out lol. So we start off like how I predicted, with a Flashback on how Jack lost his sword. He is traveling up a mountain in which she heard has a time portal at the top and is joined by three little rams, when he has reached the top One of the Rams guided him towards the portal. He eagerly jumped it (which I think is the closest he's ever gone to going back to the past) until aku pulled him back out (fuckin' DICK) Jack that attempts to jump back in but aku destroys it before he can get back in. It is then revealed that that was the last remaining time portal in existence (highly doubt it because I don't think he knows about the one the Guardian is watching) in doing so in rages Jack and of course being a coward that I aku is he flees and summons demonic bull like creatures which Jack quickly disposes of. And just when you think aku couldn't be more of an asshole ! It turns out the monsters were just the baby Rams under the spell of aku....I literally shouted "WHAT A DICK !" At my TV screen waking my poor dog up lol. This causes Jack to drop his sword and fall down a seemingly bottomless pit. We find out that Jack was telling ashi The entire story while on the back of some type of giant...falcon/owl ? Anyway they both float down the hole where the sword was supposed to be but find out it isn't there, when Ashi asks if someone could've taken it ? Jack has the realization that he didn't lose the sword... The sword left him. Which actually makes total sense because the sword is magical and probably linked to him, so it probably sensed his anger and because the sword was used against an innocent it probably need to go into isolation until Jack got back on track again. So after they return to the top of the mountain Jack tells Ashi he "doesn't know how long this will take" when ashi offers to go with him, he tells her that this is something I must do on his own and proceeds to say in a meditative stance while Ashi takes watch. While she's doing so notices in the distance a small army is approaching the mountain, Ashi's eyes read " awww HELL NO You ain't coming near my man" lol And it cuts to Jack having a spiritual journey through his mind to try and figure out the location of his sword, he then gets on a raft and float is towards what looks to be a mini monastery, with a little man that resembles Buddha slightly and seeds to ask him "are you lost" ? Jack of course replied with yes and then the man invites him in to make some tea. Then cuts back to the army marching up the mountain is immediately stopped in their tracks when Ashi asks them where they're going, once they tell her that they are here to kill samurai Jack she stances up and ready to defend him saying that she's "here to stop them" of course in a typical ignorant fashion they begin laughing because it one on what appears to be hundreds and she looks to be harmless....well, the moment The leader said they are there to kill Jack that was the moment they sign their death wish because as soon as they started advancing towards her she immediately punches him in the face and uses him as a battering ram to knock A good portion of the army off the mountain. Then fucking leaps into the rest of the army like a fucking beast and begins to laydown the pain, One of the parts shows her breaking the spears and a half and throwing it back at them while she was doing a war cry and completely snapping one of the guys arms off..... like I said in my last post, she's one-of-a-kind Jack and she wouldn't be doing this if she didn't care deeply for you. Throughout the entire scene we go back-and-forth between ashi fighting the army and Jack making tea which in itself was a little comical because we get a burst of intense fighting and a little break in between of him making tea which is therapeutic. Once he's done making the tea and offers it to the Buddha like figure it then cuts back to Ashi who has completely decimated the entire army and covered in blood (queue god of war theme) but that notices there's still so I left on the mountain she then calls the falcon/owl over to carry her up the rest of the way, then noticing the mysterious figures about to fire an arrow towards Jack she jumps down and grabs it, only to find out that shortly after a barrage of arrows comes raining down which she easily lifts a Rock to block him. is the revealed that The person responsible is...THE HIGH PRIESTESS ! (Dun dun duuuun) out of FUCKING nowhere! has Somehow managed to track Ashi and jack down claiming that she knew she would fail her mission and even though she was the strongest of the seven was the least focused of the group. And offered her a chance to do a complete 180 and kill Jack which of course she refuses because let's be honest 1) the mother is a fucking bitch 2) at this point do you really think she's going to kill him after developing feelings for him lol After hearing her say Jack showed her the truth and that she was wrong about him continue to say she will kill her too ! And I'm over here looking at her like "this FUCKING cunt" she says it in such a way that you truly sense that she does not give two shits about her and she was only to be used as a means to an end. Which I'm sure you could gather from the flashbacks, by her saying she's going to kill her only made it even more of a point lol She then proceeds to take off her robe (when that happens you know shits about to get real)and Ashi and her have a dagger/baby ram horn dual and asks ashi how could she betrayed her family like that, that even after Jack killed her sisters she still allowed him to live. She that replies that wasn't jacks for but they died that it was the mothers fault they died because they we're born only to kill Jack and were doomed right from the day they were born (meaning no amount of training they did could compare to Jack's skills) and is she saying that the pillar collapses on top of her giving the high priestess a chance to kill Jack. Ashi seeing what's about to happen bursts out of the rubble grabs an arrow and with "The strongest throwing arm in history" throws it at her mother piercing her through her chest seemingly killing her (I don't think that's the last we'll see if her, she's definitely still alive and Will come back probably the finale) and falls off the mountain, Ashi tired from the long intense battle passes out. Then we cut back to the Buddha figure drinking the tea saying that the tea is terrible, Jack confused by it wonders why. The figure states that even though it has all necessary ingredients it's missing one important ingredient "Balance" this confuses Jack even more, begging him to help tell him where the whereabouts of his sword is. However he says it's not up for him to decide, and that he will have to "earn it" then we get a appearance from I rather angry version of Jack's consciousness where she's out saying that it's a bunch of "fortune cookie nonsense" Jack then proceeds to tell his conscience that he is the reason why he's lost his way and his sword and now that he sees clearly purges the anger from himself and therefore finding "balance" Jack is then teleported in front of the three gods that helped forge the sword (Odin, Ra and Vishnu) they state that like his father he has been chosen to defeat the ultimate evil (aku) and that he is worthy. Then proceed to transform Jack back to his old self (without his beard 😡) topknot and all. Which I have to admit it's a little jarring to see him back in his samurai robe again, and has also been given his sword back which was a pretty epic moment almost like he was reunited with an old friend. He has then awakened from his meditative state and sheaths his sword, and finds Ashi unconscious on the ground and rushes to her aid.....and ACTUALLY knows her name ! I was like FINALLY! She probably told him her name off screen but I still would've liked to have seen them exchange names on screen...oh well Then she awakens in shock to find Jack restored to its previous self saying how he found his sword in the process complement him on his "shave and haircut" (I said to myself...oh yea...that's One step closer to them becoming a thing ❤️) fun fact I actually yelled at the screen " just kiss already" !!! And woke my poor dog up again lol he then says that she has been busy keeping him safe while he was searching for his sword, and then thanks her for doing so. She then asks with a smirk on her face "what's next ?" And Jack sternly says "Aku" and then the episode ends This episode had so many surprises in it that it almost caught me offguard because I wasn't expecting some of it. I really really really enjoyed it ! And of course there's the preview weekend of Jack and Ashi running from a creature that seems to be hunting them down AND this is the episode where they're supposed to have a "burgeoning relationship" which of course because you guys know I support and ship Jashi I believe it's going to be something on the romance side 👍🏻 I mean for god sake's she "killed" her own mother to protect him ! Her own mother ! If that's not love I don't know what love is lol Well I'm really hoping that this week goes by fast because I already want to watch episode 8 🤞🏻😭 at least I get to watch last nights episode a bunch of times to get me hyped up for it lol What did you guys think ?
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captainatin · 7 years
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Kindness incarnate chapter 3: Another man’s treasure
“Running? How are we going to outrun one of the strongest fighters in the underground? We also need to get Chester out of there! That’s an utterly stupid idea, why would you even think that something so simple would work?” Devin growled as his fists clenched. “I understand you might think this isn’t your problem but then why try to help if you just won’t help?” It was clear the boy was incredibly tense and stressed out.
“We can run with Chester if I can use that green thing again. I could stall her before turning to run away behind you guys, she wants the human souls too, right?” Mark tried to force a smile as he chuckled nervously, he knew that the plan sounded stupid given everything that the spectral boy must have tried by that point.
“You think you can outrun the future captain of the royal guard?” The transparent spirit scoffed as he turned around to continue walking towards the wide area where they had previously confronted the battle hardened fish-woman.
“I mean, my whole life I’ve done nothing but run away from my own problems so how hard could it be?” The chef chuckled again but frowned when it didn’t seem to lighten his companion’s mood by much. Hmmm, normally self-deprecating jokes are funny to people like him, guess he’s pretty different. He has been down here a long time which I guess would change anyone.
“That’s in poor taste.” Devin grunted as he floated a littler higher and let out a drawn out sigh that echoed through the surrounding stones that dotted their path. “So are we going to get moving or what? Chester will probably have some holes in him if we keep waiting like this!” The boy turned into heart form and drifted off towards their familiar destination.
“Y-Yeah, sorry, I just thought we should plan a bit more before we rush into things….that’d be a good idea.” Mark slowly started walking behind the bobbing heart, he couldn’t help but recall the memories that had briefly flashed when he touched the soul. He stared at the beige light with curiosity before reaching a hand out and tapping the back of it. Come on little fish, it’s time for your next lesson! The cook shook his head as he froze in place, the sharp memory soon fading from his consciousness.
“What the hell! Why would you do that?” The heart flickered into the transparent human form before disappearing again into the beige color. “It’s rather personal to take someone’s memories like that.” Devin growled as the light shuddered and flickered a bit more before returning to a stable form.
“Sorry, I was just curious….” A hush fell among them as Mark’s voice trailed off into the depths of silence. “So, uhm….” He awkwardly spoke up to break the quiet. “You guys had a lot more memories of Undyne.” He stated without tact or subtlety as he picked up the pace and passed the gleaming soul.
“Yeah, we trained her as a kid.” Devin responded with an equally bland tone. “She spent a lot of time in this area and she has a lot of heart. Dangerous levels of DT too, I’m sure you felt the strength of her soul.” He transformed into human shape and marched faster, he clearly didn’t want to talk too much about it.
“So, uhm, are you okay with that?” The green heart inquired as he leaned towards the wheat shaded boy, they walked shoulder to shoulder maintaining a consistent matching pace as the corporeal boy’s shoes thudded against the rocks; creating a rhythm.
“No.” The soul spoke as sharp as a well kept knife.
“But you don’t want to hurt her, I can see that much.” Mark commented as he pondered the other human’s motives and all the experiences that must be swirling in his mind, the boy considered touching the heart again but quickly discarded the idea as he quickly recalled the moments prior where his companion had snapped at him for it. I could just poke it a little bit, right? Maybe he won’t notice if I just tap it. His hand slowly rose up to the wheat colored heart and stirred hesitation in him as he noticed Devin shudder slightly. It’s rude but I think I need to learn a bit more about him, and he’s probably not going to tell me much more. How do I even know that he’s a good guy? His hands clenched tightly as he let them fall back down to his sides, they loosened as he let out a sigh.
“Yeah.” Another dry response cut through the damp atmosphere of the misty cavern. “She’s not a bad kid, she just has a lot of bad ideas in her head.” The soul grunted as he passed under a stalactite that periodically dripped water, the droplet passed through his body and splashed against the puddle that Mark stepped through.
“So why do they want our souls? Why do they hate humans so much?” The boy bopped as he walked behind his see-through companion and tried to get another perspective, how the other people saw everything.
“There’s a long story that goes with it; Chester told me all about it. There was a human that fell down here a long time ago, his name was Chara. He was brought in by the king of the monsters and he was treated as if he were one of them.” Devin stood still as he began the story, staring up at the roof of the cavern as he shifted slightly. “He became best friends with the King’s son, Asriel.” The boy paused again before he resumed walking. “The two lived together and had many fun adventures through the underground, Asgore considered that perhaps humans weren’t as evil as they had first thought….” Devin’s voice trailed off as they came upon the sound of clattering steel. “He was proven wrong, one day Chara got terribly ill and died with his last request being for Asriel to absorb his soul and pass through the barrier that keeps monsters sealed here and out of the human world. When the young prince came to the surface he was attacked by humans and barely made it home alive, he breathed his last with his parents watching. It was a horrifying experience for the monsters and solidified Asgore’s hatred for humanity, he waged war on them; that declaration has remained unheard for decades now. Hell, I don’t really know what year it is anymore, just a few rough estimates based on events.”
“I see, I suppose that’s the simple version.” Mark forced himself to keep walking as the sound of metal slamming against metal wailed through the expansive cavern, echoing off the walls and into the boy’s ears. He stepped on a glowing blue flower that echoed back the sound of it being crunched under his feet. W-What? That was, oh, what a shame….it’s really pretty. He glanced back at the flower as he kept walking; a frown remained on his face as he braced himself for what was to come.
“You’re going down old geezer! You know you’re starting to get sloppy!” The fish woman came into view along with the wooden block-head. Floating spears assaulted the old man from several angles in front of him but he expertly blocked them with boxes created by the flourishing of his sword.
“Get back old man!” Devin shouted as he broke out into a sprint, Mark hesitated to follow in pursuit. As a spear went flying through the gap of Chester’s defences, a spectral bat appeared and swatted the metallic soul energy into the air and the spear embedded itself in a stalactite. Cracks surged through the overhanging spike causing it to break off and fall towards the floor. “Get back I said!” The beige boy barked as he pushed the knight back and out of the way of the falling spike that separated them from the fishy warrior.
“Grrrrha!” Undyne shouted as she sliced through the stone spike only to find Devin and Chester running away. “Come back and fight me! Don’t you have some sense of honor?” The noble warrior rushed forward only to collide with a shining green shield. “W-What?” Her eye twitched with dismay.
“You’re not touching them, your fight is with me now!” The brown haired boy tried his best to sound cool as he held up the emerald shield that glistened with soul energy. He formed a firm stance as the encounter menu opened and his vision faded to black and white; he gritted his teeth at the pressure of the spear being pressed against his soul force. Please don’t fight me, I know you’re a nice person. You’re trying to do what’s right. He swallowed the lump in his throat as a twinge of fear surged through him. How am I going to survive this? I can’t run with this thing up! Why not? The chef struggled to try and rip himself off of his firm stance but he couldn’t move in the slightest.
“You don’t even understand how your soul magic even works! What makes you think you’re even close to being a threat to me?” The woman sneered as she created a massive harpoon and launched it at the impenetrable defence. Mark was pushed far backward and towards a wooden bridge that swayed with even the slightest breeze that blew through. “You won’t be in my way for long!” The knight created seven more spears and scattered them through the air before they began to close in on the human.
“W-What?” How do I even block them if I can’t move? What the hell is this? Mark shuddered as his eyes slammed shut, not even realizing that the green shield spun around him and blocked the incoming attacks. His eyes slowly opened as he caught onto the fact that he hadn’t been skewered with dozens of soul attacks. “I’m...I’m okay!” The boy got giddy for a second as he awkwardly laughed in amazement. I have literally no clue how I did all of that.
“If I can’t poke through it then I guess I’ll just have to keep hitting it!” Undyne shouted as she created another massive harpoon and hurled it at him. She quickly created two spears and sliced a stalactite hanging from the ceiling; grabbing the stone as it fell before using it as a battering ram against the emerald wall in order to push the human to the edge of the unstable bridge. “Game over bucko!” She gave another shining leer as she shoved him onto the bridge and summoned soul spears to slice the ropes. “I’ve got bigger fish to fry!” The woman steadied herself for a massive jump before heroically leaping across the chasm and landing safely on the other side.
“W-Wait, no! I need to-” The human’s words were cut off as the bridge slammed against the wall and his head smashed against a rock and knocked him out; sending him tumbling down into the dark abyss that was below.
“H-Hello? Who’s there?” Mark felt like he was floating through water but he was barely conscious enough to speak. The only thing he could feel was a voice speaking straight to his mind. “It’s been awhile since someone talked to me….I think I’m stuck or something.” It was the voice of a young woman, he couldn’t process much else.
“Hello?” Mark responded but his lips didn’t open, he felt a strange connection form between himself and the stranger. Suddenly he felt his hand grasp something and he felt a surge of energy rush through him as memories flooded his brain. I’m sorry, Devin. Time to sleep now. No one would miss me anyways, other than you. It’s selfish I know. Where am I? Hello there little one! I don’t want to go. What’s going on? I can’t see anything! Getting...sleepy…. His eyes show open as he tried to sort through the new information that filled his thoughts. Water, I’m under water! His whole body stung as the water brushed against every micro-cut on his body, his lungs screamed for oxygen and he started flailing to get to the surface of the bone-chilling water that thrashed against him. There was something clenched in his hand that felt warm, the warmth flowed through his entire body keeping him protected from the freezing liquid. He swam to the surface, his head burst through the thin layer of ice that had formed over the top. The memories continued to batter his heart and mind.
“Where am I?” He heard the young woman’s voice again. “W-Where’s Devin? It feels like I’ve been asleep for a really long time….” Her voice trailed off as the green half heart shimmered brightly in the boy’s hand before he set it on a ledge before climbing up onto the outstretched slab of wet rock. “W-Who are you? Where am I?” The two green hearts floated towards each other before the girl’s soul retreated backwards and formed a solid body around the emerald heart. She had long black hair that had obviously been dyed, her clothes seemed ragged and tattered like she had been thrown out of a moving vehicle. Her body was taken with a glow just like the last soul he had met only green instead of beige.
“I-I’m M-Mark!” The boy sputtered up some water onto the space between them as he sat criss-cross and averted his gaze. She said Devin’s name I think, I’m not sure if I caught that though. Can she help me? She seems really hurt. His eyes shifted sympathetically as he turned to look her in the eye. “Are you okay?”
“No….I feel like I’m fading away, I don’t have a body! I don’t know what’s going on!” The girl grabbed her head and curled her knees up as she cowered back with tears streaming down her face. “My friend, he came after me and I-I met him once down here and….and….” She couldn’t force herself to keep talking as she choked up.
“C-Calm down please, I know it’s quite a shock but you’ve been down here for a few hundred years.” Mark instinctively reached over and grabbed her hand, cradling it in his own. “I know Devin, I met him today and I think we can meet up with him.” He squeezed tightly to reassure her but her phantasmic appearance started flickering like when the beige boy had started to run out of soul energy. Damn it, I don’t have much time….I need to figure out a way out of this chasm, I’m not a rock climber.
“Y-You know Devin?” Her face started to clear up as she wiped the emerald tears away with her left hand. “I can’t go back, don’t take me to him please!” She shuddered as she stood up before dissipating into the heart form. “T-Take me somewhere else!”
“W-Why what’s wrong?” Mark tried to maintain a grip on her but the vanishing body slipped through his grasp. What’s going on? Am I really not suppose to trust that guy? O-Or is it something else? “Why are you scared of him? Are you Anna? He seemed really sorry about something.” He reached up to the heart again and recoiled as his fingers brushed against the shining forest light. Devin, don’t follow me. You have your own life to worry about. He stumbled back slightly with a frown on his face. “That’s….” A deep growl emanated from him as he gritted his teeth. “I’ve had enough of all of this!” He shouted as he clenched his fists and the pan that had fallen onto that ledge. “I’m getting you two back and I’m going to confront Undyne. Someone has to help her see what she’s doing. She needs to know that we aren’t that different!” He leaped up to another ledge that wasn’t much higher than where he was; conveniently, a lot of ledges were close to each other which made things slightly less grueling on his body as he watched the dark green heart shoot up the side of the chasm much faster than he could possibly hope to climb the damp blue rocks.
“Don’t try to follow me, I feel like I’ll vanish any moment now. Just help Devin out for me, and tell him that I’m sorry, I didn’t want things to turn out this way.” Anna pleaded as the heart flickered and disappeared over the rocks. “Don’t hurt yourself any more.” Her words echoed down to the boy who desperately tried to climb faster to catch up with the hanging soul.
“No, no come back!” Mark panted as he threw himself onto the next ledge. He howled in pain as his knee scraped against the edge, blood slowly seeped out onto the rocks as he shuddered in agony. No, not now of all times! His teeth clenched harder as he threw himself up the next set of rocks and eventually to the top of the chasm.
“Halt, who goes there?” He heard the burly voice of guards and armor clattering as they turned around the corner. Two suits of armor came into view and they crouched down for a moment before rushing towards him. “Human, prepare to die!” The two warriors were obviously unskilled because Mark just dashed right past them and smacked the left one in the side of the helmet with his frying pan. In his daze the warrior stumbled and fell onto the other, sending them falling down into the chasm and their heads bashed against the rocks on their way down.
“Oh….Oh my God….” The human boy watched in horror as they fell into the chasm with piles of dust left on each spot they landed.
*40G 70EXP!
*LV up! 1 ----> 4! HP increase, DEF increase, ATK increase!
“W-What the hell?” He stared at the text that appeared in front of him, his eye shrank to the size of a peanut as he shuddered in fear of what he had just done. “No, no, no, no!” The boy wrapped his arms around himself as he started walking away with dust clinging onto his clothes; he couldn’t breathe. That’s it, I’m ending this. I’m ending all of this right now! I’m talking to Asgore, I’m going to show him humans aren’t bad! I’m going to show everyone in the underground the same kindness that she showed me. Once more he marched along through the mists of waterfall, he had no real direction other than the burning passion that swelled inside of him.
*But it refused
I won’t let anyone else get hurt! All the wounds on his body vanished in an instant and his eyes glazed over as if he were put into some kind of trance. Pain, I can feel it coming from this direction. He broke out into a sprint as he passed by a glowing neon sign that read Hotland. It’s from Undyne….interesting, I wonder if she’s okay. Devin, I can feel he’s in pain too, physical pain not emotional. Chester….Chester is also in pain, there’s other emotions too. Pride, fear, anger….self directed hatred. He stared blankly at the lava below him for a moment before he trotted across a wooden bridge and towards the sound of fighting, every step was nonchalant in attitude.
“Uhg, it’s that darn green one again!” Undyne growled as she glared over at the boy. Chester and Devin looked pretty beat up from head to toe, the block head had a spear sticking out of his gut and he held on tightly to the sword that was at his side. “I’ll just finish you off quickly!” The fish woman scooped up the beige heart into a container and held it skyward in triumph before thrusting the spectral spear down towards the old monster.
“Hello, how are you feeling?” Rage, I can tell she’s angry with something more than just my presence. The emerald shield intercepted the spear as he stood in front of Chester and took a firm stance, his vision turned black and white but he didn’t notice.
“Get out of my way you little brat!” The proud warrior flung more and more spears at him only for them to either be blocked by the shield or just do nothing when they collided with his skin that had now taken on a green aura. “W-What the hell?” The shield dissipated under the volley of magic, each spear hit the boy’s skin but they bounced off as if they were made of rubber rather than her soul transformed into an attack.
“Why are you sad?” Mark started into her eyes as he tilted his head slightly, there was no fear left in his heart and there was no sense of selfishness either. “You know Chester very well, why do you want to kill him?” Confusion, I don’t know which thing inspired that in you. He swung the pan and knocked the glass canister out of her hand. Oh….that’s a shame…. He thought to himself as he watched the beige soul fly off into the lava while still locked inside the canister. He’s still okay, I can feel that much.
“Great! I only had one of those prepared! Now I’ll have to take you back without stuffing you full of spears first!” Undyne shouted as she continued to pepper him with the spectral weapons, sweat poured from her face and mud started to seep out of the cracks in her armor. The green aura faded away and Mark’s expression twisted into fear as several spears drilled into his body.
“O-Oh G-God! God p-please no! Please! Don’t...O-Oh God!” He howled in agony as he fell to his knees and tears streamed down his face from the immense amount of pain he was in. “P-Please….d-d-don’t, oh lord don’t do t-t-this to m-me! Ahhhhg!” His entire body twitched and shuddered as he seethed and wiggled. A spear whistled past his ear and carried the monster behind him into the bubbling lava. “Ha-ha-ve have mer-mercy!” The boy choked up as the blood poured out from the holes left in his flesh as the spears vanished.
“I’m sorry kiddo….” The woman grunted as she averted her gaze and picked the boy up, propping him on her shoulder before making tiny spears to clog the wound and prevent him from losing too much more blood. “I didn’t want it to hurt so much.” Her voice fell on deaf ears as the human continued to scream. “If you hadn’t bashed that canister I might’ve been able to free everyone. With your soul and his together.” She continued to march as if the loud screaming in her ear meant nothing. Silence fell as she came to a metal door and banged on it three times, the boy’s voice had blown itself out from all the noise.
“U-Undyne! T-That was really amazing!”
“Don’t mention it….seriously.” The fish woman grunted as she set the human down on a crash cart and exited through the door she had came.
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Zanchuli uprising
“Rebelliose wretches her majesty shall have thine head on a pike!” A hooded death knight atop a pale dead horse called out from below the walls of a Zandalari warlord’s keep. The Warlord spat from his walls while his son stood at his side looking bellow with sniff of indifference though his eyes gave the rather large host of undead soldier’s a once over. “Da Zanchuli will go ta da grave before we serve jor dead elfy witch! Away wit cha!” With that the warlord would walk from his ramparts his son following after him “In all mah years I neveh  thought Restakhan would kneel fo de Horde, an when a mongrel elf leads dem of all tings… still,I knew e’ was growin soft boy.” The son would walk along with his hands folded upon his tattooed and charm ornamented chest dressed for war though he was hardly a warrior, merely a boy with a talent for the arcane art of pyromancy. “don’cha tink dis be an overreaction fata? Da empire is crumblin’ an las’ time we followed Zul-” The father turned with sudden fury roughly grabbing his son by both sides of his head “Don’cha cower on meh noa Tazakhan! Jor faimly as’ defended da honor o da Zandalari fo more den ten thousand years! Zul WILL see ow’ empiah restored! Ju jus’ must ave’ faith…”
As they continued to step down the stairs of the rampart tower a couple of passing Zandalari warriors gave Tazakhan’s father a salute which the troll returned promptly in casual passing. Though his father continued to speak of tradition, glory, and dignity all Tazakhan could think was that only a few weeks ago his only concern was his dalences down by the Harbor. Hopping various inns and attempting to woo young Zandalari maidens and playing pranks on local Amani and Sandfury gangs. Then the Princess returned and with the Horde in toe, undead soldiers from a distant land occupying sacred temples, elves, orcs, tuaren, goblins, strangers from all over the Horde now wandered the sacred city of Daza’alor. Soon after blood was being spilled in the streets like a swarm of Silithid it erupted in the city. Zul had declared an Empire of blood under a new god G’huun. Tazakhan had heard rumors of this G’huun but he thought them to be just that, rumors. However, it seems the god was all too real and now his father was ranting and raving like a lunatic about him. All the while his mother and little sister barely five years of age were holed up somewhere in fortress. This was no place for them, but the city was not safe for them either Rastakhan would surely have taken them hostage.
It was a booming voice that would break Tazakhan’s train of thought “TAZAK’JIN Warlord of Hakatan fortress! I would have words!” Tazakhan’s father would roll his eyes at his name being called and stop his descent down the tower to climb back up to the top “anudda’ one, dey tink they can negotiate a term of surrendah, even da dead fear ta attack my fortress”. Tazakhan followed his father back up the steps to get a look at whoever called to his father. Once the two had returned to the top of the ramparts they both beheld a robed figure bearing a hooded crown of bone ornamented with a horned skull. The hooded figure sat atop a dead horse bareing a banner of his Horde, an aura of cold calculated confidence lied in his demeanor as his horse advance two paces with its riders urging. The Undead rider’s voice seemed to carry and thunder likely due to some form of magic. This man was a mage, a powerful one at that from what Tazakhan could sense. “I am Warlord Xardas Graveheart, High Executor of her majesty’s Defiler’s 51st legion!” Tazak’jin would fold his arms across his chest seeming rather unimpressed “jor’ titles mean nutin’ ta meh! Der will be no terrms of surrendah’ ta jor undead ilk”. The undead mage gave a mirthless chuckle “You misunderstand Warlord Tazak’jin I am not here to convince you of surrender, this is not a negotiation, as my title perhaps should tell you this is indeed your Execution! By the power vested in me by her majesty I sentence you to death!”
Tazak’Jin’s eyes would widen before he bursted into a laugh “Ju’ tink Ja scare me? make meh beg? Do ja know o’ I am?!” The hooded mage turned his steed away from him and began to walk a few paces away from the gates from the fortress towards a gathered circle of undead magi “A flea who saw fit to bite a lion…” Was all the mage answered.  Tazakhan looked to the circle of magi that the High Executor walked too with an inquisitive eye, the symbols carved on the ground, the relative position of the Executor’s assistants, the hum of magic in the air. Tazakhan noted all these things. Though he was no master, hardly an adept really he didn’t need to be to know this was the setting for some powerful voodoo to be unleashed. The lad would nudge his father “Fata’ e’ be workin’ sometin’ big in dat circle, I don’ like da look o’ dis.” Tazak’jin would give of a snort of indifference “it be a trick, dey tryna’ force us outta of da fort, der no way any voodoo he can conjure will bring down these walls.”
The Executor dismounted and stepped to the centerpoint of the circle of magi while his cohorts bowed their heads in concentration chanting as they channeled powerful magics which came to life in swirling torrent of raw energy around them. Soon their leader joined brandishing a ring that glowed with a golden hue flaked in a sapphire blue mist. The magic of the ritual swirled around him as the chanting of the mage’s began to channel, the echoes of the arcane soon crackling through the region. As the ritual continued soon the arcane magics being channeled condensed into large chunks of ice that began to weave and mold into one another forming to the size and near shape of a massive battering ram. Tazakhan’s eyes widened “Dis...dis is impossible. Fata... we need ta get down!” Tazak’jin’s right hand shook before it balled in a fist “No, e’ is bluffin’ e’ can’t hold magic like dat...e’ isn’t a loa! E is mortal!” The Executor raised his skeletal hands to the sky which shook with the sheer force of the magic he struggled to contain. With gritted teeth and a snarl on his lips he moved his hands in a throwing motion commanding the massive levitating battering ram of arcane frost to slam into the gates. The impact thundered and shook the gates nearly causing both Tazak’jin and his son to fall from their own walls. “Fata! We need-” Tazak’jin cut off his son “E can’t hold it long enough! Dis gate will not fall our ancestors-” Another ram came the kinetic force shaking the already damaged gate more than the last and though the mage visibly struggled to hold such a spell of raw power Tazakahn could not take that chance. The ram of ebon frost reared back its cold mist kicking up in the air with its movements as it readied for one last ram, the gate would not stand.
Tazakhan would move to shove his father off the ledge into the courtyard behind the gates “what the-” Tazak’jin would exclaim with a yelp of fear before Tazakhan flicked his wrist in a casting gesture to cast a slow fall spell on his father. It was a simple spell that would ensure a safe landing for his father one which Tazakhan would cast on himself as he ran for a nose dive off the walls of the gates just in time to avoid the last and final ram of the large pillar of frost which quickly shattered into thousands of ice shards that rained down on the now unhinged and battered gates. With the gates broken all hell broke loose, the undead battle guard stormed through mounted upon dreaded pale skeletal horses that ran down many of the defenders in the initial charge. It was than foot soldiers came storming in meeting the forsaken army blade for blade in a brutal melee. Tazakhan darted his eyes scanning through the sudden explosion of chaotic battle looking for the one man he needed to protect, his father, where was his father?! He thought with a anxious haste. There! He beheld his father fighting like the true Zandalari warrior he was, though at times stubborn and thick he was indeed a titan on the field. With a massive obsidian toothed blade he carved through at least three forsaken battle guards in one blow and than lifted a fourth with his bare hands snapping his neck with a tight clutch letting the dead man’s corpse drop limp. “Blood fo G’huun!”
Tazakhan attempted to make his way to his father’s side but was met by two more battle guards fully plated bearing blade and shield as they rushed him attempting to ram him with their shield “Its the warlord’s son! We taking him alive or dead?! Either way the bounty will be good!” Tazakhan’s eyes widen as he knew he couldn’t take two seasoned warriors at once, he was not his father. Instead a quick clap of his hands followed by a wide spread summoned forth a nova of frost that made the ground slick causing the undead warriors to trip and tumble into a trap of ice that snared them. The young Zandalari than quickly followed by teleporting a few yards forward with a quick cast just enough to close the distance between himself and his father. It was in that moment Tazakhan noticed a masked soldier coming at his father from behind with a poisoned blade. The lad acted quickly making a quick gesture to cast a firebolt which caught the assassin straight in the head causing him to drop. The man was dead, Tazakhan never killed a man before and he didn’t even think about it. He just had reacted in the moment. DId it even count as murder? The man was already dead right? His thoughts were interrupted by his father shoving him out of the way of blade and taking the gash himself across his shoulder before dispatching its deliverer himself with a swift arcing strike of his greatsword. “Arrrgh! Boy, I be proud o’ jor first kill, but focus!” Tazakhan snapped himself back in the moment and began letting his hands flare with flame magic as he let loose fire bolt after fire bolt against the undead onslaught, many of his shots were going a bit wide, it seemed his first kill might of been a lucky shot. Either way it certainly didn’t help his hands were shaking, and damn it all they just kept coming!
As the bloody skirmish went on in the courtyard Tazakhan would notice the Executor entering through the broken down gates with the hooded death knight that threatened his father in toe. Seeing the Undead General four of his father’s men rushed him attempting to get the glory of the kill but with a simple raise of his hand a wave of frost snared the warriors and shortly after they were dispatched by a storm of comets from the sky. Pulverized into a bloody mess of gore the undead mage stepped over their corpses like they were but a puddle of ilk. “Fata’ its him!” Tazakhan pointed out. “We take is’ ead’ togethah den!” His father decided with a stern nod as he rushed through the fray cutting down two battle guards that got in his way before leaping towards Xardas with a downward arc of his blade. The undead mage with both skeletal hands clasped behind his back teleported out of the way in an almost casual manner. Tazakhan attempted to resist readying a counter spell against the Executor but than he felt something wrap around his throat and lift him from the ground in a choke hold. The young Zandalari looked down at his throat seeing ethereal chains of the blackest of magic wrapped around his throat as he attempted to gasp for breath. His eye than shifted towards a slithering croak of a voice that came from the hooded death knight. “Sssit tight little cub, my lord will put down your father shortly…”
As Tazakhan struggled he watched the Undead sorcerer and his father battle it out. His father managed to duck and weave passed a couple of frost bolts and shrug off a third to the shoulder before closing the distance but the Executor was quick to deflect his own blade blow with a icy barrier before teleporting out of his reach once more. It was than the hooded magi raised his hand with a taloned curl calling down an orb of frost magic that swirled like a tornado and cut flesh like a razor blade. Tazak’jin struggled to fight against the torrent sustaining a plethora of frost ridden wounds but was once more rushing towards the magi. He seemed to be closing his blade ready to take his head but as he lifted for a decapitating swing a lance of ice was flung into the mighty troll warrior’s guts. With wide eyes the mighty Tazak’jin toppled over holding onto the lance of ice that had pierced him attempting to yank it out but it was no use. A second came and struck him the shoulder causing him to kneel “W-we will neveh surrendah…” Tazak’jin wheezed out hacking up his own blood as the Executor advanced. The mage would then draw his spellblade lifting it over his head readying to deliver the final blow. “I already told you, I was not here for your surrender...this is your execution” With that the magus would swing his blade delivering a clean cut across Tazak’jin’s neck letting the warlord’s head unceremoniously fall to the ground. It was than Tazakhan let out a blood curdling cry breaking free of the Death knight’s cursed grip and unleashed a pyroblast the likes of which he himself thought he wasn't capable of. Such raw passion and anger fueled his magic into a smoldering ball of vengeance that came flying toward the wide eyed Executor and the spell hit its mark flinging the mage with the sheer force and setting his corpse aflame.
The courtyard went silent seeing the Undead general’s twitch in what one might of considered a death throw. Was he dead? Tazakhan’s teeth gritted as he panted from adrenaline filled rage and despair thinking his father’s killer was dead. He might die but he still upheld the honor of his name that was some solace he could take. At least that's what he thought. The corpse of the Executor seemed to stand as arcane magic’s seemed to weave his flesh and bone back together and his body twitched with an unnaturally quick motion as he stood good as new as if he was never hit by the smoldering bolt of flame at all. “H-how-” Tazakhan questioned before the undead magus pointed two fingers sending a ray of frost magic into him that swiftly froze Tazakhan’s body into a solid block of ice. Tazakhan’s body now trapped there was no escape as the undead magus approached pressing a skeletal hand against the coat of ice that separated them “Impressive, Gravewretch! Get this one to Orgrimmar, I will have use of him…” The hooded death knight would salute sounding off “yes my lord!”. That was the last thing Tazakhan heard before his vision went black. 
@flaxinmalache    @seilune    @roewyn  @ryleyth      
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