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danwhobrowses · 4 days

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One Piece Chapter 1113 - Initial Thoughts

It is time

One Piece is back again and the big announcement is almost underway. The Gorosei are circling though, much of the Straw Hats are cornered, will the revelation turn the tide?

Let's find out

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release too!

A chess-themed colour spread this time; Robin playing chess with the crew as chess pieces

Contrary to the message the King should not be the attacking piece but other than that I did find it funny that Usopp is a Bishop with a bow and arrow, this cleric does harm!

Also lil Chopper pawns!

Picking up where we left off, Markus Mars has been stopped in awe of a sight in Punk Records

The remains of Vegapunk's humungous brain, as big or maybe even bigger than a giant, kept in a pod and still working even after his death

Mars does wonder if this is more Vegapunk's true self, which I guess if it has his brain it's probably the main part that's biologically living

People around the world brace themselves though

Syrup Village! Kaya, Merry and the old Usopp Pirates get a cameo

Despite her wealth being enough for Kuro to plan a murder/retirement spree, they do not have a Video Den Den Mushi

Though it seems like it's more size than price, and Kaya is already keen to hear what Vegapunk is saying, given his role in the medical field

Also lil' Merry details on the Den Den Mushi

The Marines are monitoring it too

Laboon and Crocus cameo!

And we even get to go to Baldimore, birthplace of Vegapunk

Some dialogue from the group that found Franky during the separation too

'I heard he's turned himself into a ship now' XD because of the bounty poster, and the bad timeline SBS image maybe, though I still think we could in the future get a Sunny mecha

Also got Chopper's bird and medic island listening in

The tribespeople even know about Vegapunk, they call him a 'king of modern science'

Even despite the Garp and SWORD attack, some pirates from Fullalead are listening in - some still wanna fight each other though

Mars tries to stamp out the Den Den Mushi, but it's of course a fake! It shatters to reveal just another regular Den Den Mushi

Fooled again motherfucker!

Vegapunk does introductions once more but now everyone wants him to get on with it XD

For the most part the more obscure world shots seem somewhat familiar, I couldn't tell what the rainy place was but it could be Water 7, the other one looked a bit familiar, the Longarm place looks like to have Brook's old talent agents too

But this campfire one, a child is hushed back to sleep by their likely mother, they're in tipi tents, what's interesting is the other person there, almost like Oda's pulling something sneaky

Through their collective telepathy, Mars announces his failure, it was a decoy so they have no leads

They wonder what Vegapunk intends to say, fearing that he'll carry on what Clover started before he was silenced

Back to Sanji and he hears a woman's scream

Bonney is being targeted by V. Nusjuro, Franky standing between them but Sanji demands to be the white knight

He jumps off the sword to kick him in the jaw

By comparison V. Nusjuro is pretty damn huge

His body sets on fire - fitting to his Yokai lore - but then the horse's head comes out to bite Sanji

Lots of crackling of bones, I wonder if his Healing Factor is still a thing

As Oimo and Kashii tackle V. Nusjuro (about the same size as them), Vegapunk's broadcast begins, admitting to committing two grave sins

Bonney turns into a giant with her fruit to attack V. Nusjuro, who has returned to his hybrid form

Vegapunk's broadcast admits that he is likely to be executed, and that this broadcast would start when his heart has stopped

Sabaody reacts first, realising that this means Vegapunk is dead

Duval has trouble processing this, since the news said that he was a hostage for the Straw Hats

Caesar's also mad, he and Judge went through that whole cover story alliance for nothing, so now they can promptly fuck off

And Morgans is angry because Vegapunk is giving BIG NEWS without him like it's not in his name

Interestingly, Vegapunk is quick to state that his killers should not be portrayed as 'evil' - because they're looking pretty damn evil to me

It seems maybe this is because he expects Luffy to have been pinned as to blame for his death, though it could be scanlations saying 'him'

Saturn faces off with the Labophase group, demanding they move away

Saturn and Robin however recognize one another, Robin from his voice back in Ohara and Saturn by her image

Seems Saturn blames Akainu directly for Robin's escape, I mean he did blow up the hostage ship but still, there were more marines out there

He goes to attack Robin, so all the other Straw Hats go into protection mode

Brook cuts a few limbs, but worryingly Chopper blocked some with his Guard Point - those limbs are poisonous remember? Though it's impressive that he could suppress a claw that could go straight through Kuma

Nami also remembers that she can use Zeus to block attacks

Mars is still on recon, but his senses can't pick up any 'telepathic waves' - wonder if that's a Haki feat or something relative to the Gorosei's shared thoughts?

York is also having trouble figuring out where the Stella would've put it, since her position as a Celestial Dragon is on the line

Vegapunk's about to deliver his mission statement, which is putting the Gorosei into a panic

Mars considers blowing up the entire place, but Saturn and Warcury are weighing it against the possible losses; men, equipment, and any chance of recreating the Mother Flame

Wait. What?

"Our World...is going to sink into the ocean!"

Well you can't deny it: Global Warming is Real.

It's not just Water Seven and Aqua Laguna then, it's all going to sink, there's a lot of thematic consequences to that when you think about it.

Did the World Government ostracize the Fish-Men because of this? Knowing that they would inherit the world? Does this have any connection to Devil Fruits and why the Ocean really saps their strength? Did the ancient kingdom like Old Wano sink to the bottom of the sea?

It begets a lot of questions, in true Oda fashion.

The rest of the chapter was a lot more jam-packed than the last, even without Luffy. The carried tension of the announcement is followed by Saturn and V. Nusjuro's confrontations with the crew, giants and Bonney. As expected, Sanji took on V. Nusjuro, the hit didn't seem to do much in the long term as expected, though I kinda wish Franky also got a hit in but the extent of his own injuries is worth wondering.

I'm glad the Labophase crew are stepping up against Saturn, at least until the expected arrival of Zoro and Jinbe, but it does show their furthered growth versus Enies Lobby if they can successfully repel Saturn from Robin - her injury being validated by this scene, though I still wish we saw a flashback of the Straw Hats vs Seraphim and them uncovering York as the traitor.

Still it's bad PR from the Straw Hats either way, they're likely to be accused of killing Vegapunk, who was last deemed their hostage by the fake news machine (is Morgans still going to Egghead? I mean with Vivi with him we continue to tease a reunion), and while Punk Records still has a chance to live on this is definitely going to be something each crewmate will have to re-evaluate given the bigger picture. Still, that can come after getting off the island; Edison and the Sleeping Giant are still at play after all, Stussy still needs to release the barrier, it's looking more likely that we might finish up around 1120.

Still there has to be more to the announcement, if Vegapunk was waiting for a video display it means that there are visuals to corroborate his revelation - I wonder if the Gorosei are more open to this reveal coming out than what they expected with the Ancient Kingdom reveal they destroyed Ohara for? Like did Vegapunk dupe the WG into Buster Calling Egghead over a reveal they didn't care much for? He mentioned two grave sins too so there seems to be much more to his announcement than just the opening statement.

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artzzyb00-27 · 12 days

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Can you do a Bay!TMNT X reader that doesn't have an accent normally but when they get upset that shit just appears outta thin air and they can barely understand them? Thank you!!

{🩷Firecracker🩷}

Anonymous on Tumblr asked for, "Can you do a Bay!TMNT X reader that doesn't have an accent normally but when they get upset that shit just appears outta thin air and they can barely understand them? Thank you!!" It's short but here you go anyway 😭?

The turtles met reader when they were younger. Around seventeen turning eighteen. Now being twenty-six, they're more open and casual around the turtles.

When they first met, reader wanted the boys to feel comfortable seeing as they didn't have many human friends to begin with. So when their accent came up, the turtles couldn't tell. Reader spoke English well enough so they couldn't pick up on it.

Especially when they had practically spent years around them. However, when Vincent offers reader a job at the station she notices that if a cop or office person is dumb, and reader got mad at it, they would mumble in their native language and have an after-accent longer in their English.

Vincent wasn't one to judge, her wife's best friend was Venezuelan and had an accent in moments. It only made her curious about the alliance ship between them and the turtle brothers.

"Where is reader from?" When Vincent asked them that, it threw the boys through loops. They hadn't thought about you not being from a different origin. Yeah, you were raised in the U.S. but you could've spent the majority of it speaking your native tongue, or you had moved to the United States before meeting them in the late teenage years.

Naturally, they tried paying more attention to how you spoke. How your grammar would come out. The possibility of your tone being off without trying to sound sarcastic or overzealous. Donnie had been close to plucking a hair of you and finding your ancestry but Leo guilt-tripped him.

"You didn't like it when they asked for a shell scute for science purposes." He made a good point sadly.

Two weeks later, however, reader had cussed out the TV that had a baseball game on. It was kinda funny watching them get pissed at the TV in their native language.

"What did you say?" Leo asked through his shit-eating grin. Even though Donnie was secretly recording and translating it into English.

"They said, 'Fucking idiot, you need glasses. You dumb bastards.'" Reader whipped their head to Donnie so fast it made Raph and Mikey crack up.

"You know (insert language)?" Donnie raised his translator and gained an understanding look from reader. "How come you don't translate everything I say?"

"Then there's no point in trying to learn about it." With that, reader gained a softer expression, before getting sucked back into the game and got annoyed again.

#bay tmnt #tmnt 2016 #bayverse tmnt #bayverse turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016 #bayverse tmnt fanfic #tmnt bayverse #tmnt #tmnt oots #tmnt 2014 #tmnt fanfic #tmnt 2k14 #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt out of the shadows #rebecca vincent

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high-school-lit-tournament · 8 months

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High School Lit Tournament Round 2D

Hamlet: It is a tale of ghosts, of madness, of revenge - of old alliances giving way to new intrigues. Denmark is changing, shaking off its medieval past. War with Norway is on the horizon. And Hamlet - son of the old king, nephew of the new - becomes increasingly entangled in a web of deception - and murder.

Struggling to find his place in this strange new order Hamlet tries to rekindle his relationship with Ophelia - the daughter of Elsinore's cunning spy master, a man with plots of his own. Hamlet turns for advice and support to the one person he can trust -- Young Yorick, the slippery, unruly jester, whose father helped Hamlet through a difficult childhood. And all the while the armed forces of Fortinbras, prince of Norway, start to assemble, threatening to bring down Elsinore forever (source).

Frankenstein: Frankenstein tells the story of Victor Frankenstein, a young scientist who creates an intelligent being through an unorthodox scientific experiment. Shelley began writing the novel when she was 18 years old, and the first edition was published anonymously in London on January 1, 1818, when she was 20 years old. Her name first appeared in the second edition, which was published in Paris in 1821. Although Frankenstein is imbued with elements of the gothic novel and romance movement, Brian Aldiss argues that it should be considered the first true science fiction story. Unlike previous stories with fantastical elements reminiscent of later science fiction, Oldiss claims that the central character "makes a deliberate decision" and "turns to modern experiments in the laboratory" to achieve fantastic results. The novel has had a significant impact on literature and popular culture and has spawned an entire genre of horror stories, films, and plays (source).

#high school lit tournament #classic literature #frankenstein #hamlet

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kittenintheden · 3 months

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This isn’t a story request, just wanted to get a different person’s opinion on this brainworm—what would happen if Tav was abducted from Earth? I mean the Nautiloid was teleporting everywhere when fleeing from the dragons, so Tav could be unlucky enough to be the only modern Earthling they abduct.

Tav would have no magical powers. Maybe they can play an instrument and pretend to be a bard, retelling the Lord of the Rings as a true story to fool people? Maybe they harness the power of science like a mad scientist? How the heck would Astarion react to her ways of thinking?

Oh friend! Do I have a neat one for you to check out! I have a friend who's currently working on something along these same line with a slightly different premise. It also takes place post-game events. Shoutout to Bella!!

So, she's coming at it from the perspective of an "our world" person who knows BG3 exists and has played it and then gets transported into the world. Anyway! Your question.

This type of thing is so fun. This is why I love fic writing. Any weird little idea in your brain? MAKE IT A FIC. I love it.

You're suggesting something like while planejumping, the Nautilus grabbed someone from our universe. Which, in the multiverse theory of D&D, could theoretically happen! It's a fish-out-of-water plot with fun possibilities.

I suppose the first question to ask is how you're characterizing this new OC. What are their existing skills and interests? Even without magic, they could be a martial fighter, a bard, even a wizard. Artificer if they're good at tinkering. Maybe being shunted into a magical universe awakens magic within them and they're a surprise sorcerer and then you can play with person who's never had magic suddenly having magic and being WTF about it.

That's ultimately what's going to decide the story -- how the fish-out-of-water reacts. Everyone else is FROM this world, they get it, and it'd be very easy to be like "well that person has clearly had a mental break, on we go." Do they all speak the same language? I assume the Earthling will understand Common.

Lots of potential for headbutting. What is the Earthling offering in order to tag along? What turns of phrase are different? Do they have a functional electronic device on them?

How would YOU react if you were dropped into the world? What conflicts would come up for YOU?

As for how Astarion would respond, well, he's a chaos gremlin looking for any means of protective power he can find, at least in early game. He's already freaked out, so what's one more thing? Does this character offer some kind of protection or tactical alliance? He's probably on board. Are they weird and unusual [in context]? He's probably like lol nice.

"You're a bit of an... odd one, aren't you? I can work with that."

#ask box #kitten rambles #fic ideas

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silriven · 5 months

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Thoughts on the Badlands Campaign

So I finally got around to playing the Badlands storyline for myself. I went into this thinking "oh, maybe I'm reading way too much into the quest text, maybe when I play it myself, I'll see why everyone tends to find Rhea the sympathetic one in the story here."

I'm here to report that, uh, no, when I was the one actually taking eggs from the imprisoned mother and then murdering both her and her children in game, I found it just as impactful. Maybe a little more. We do some really despicable things for "the greater good" here.

The black dragon body count racked up by you, the player character, in this questline is thirty-six: 12 darklight soldiers, 22 whelps, Velarok, and Nyxondra. Alliance characters get a trio of enthusiastic dwarf sidekicks to help us with some of this.

The saddest part about playing this, for me, was realizing that when Rhea sends you after the escaped Nyxondra, you find her circling above her brood. So her first act of freedom was to go to the surviving experiments to try and protect them. You then kill 12 for the quest.

Another sad thing is her one line of dialogue, which is also the last thing she ever says: "My kin won't forget what you've done! We will rage, mortals!" Have her kin actually forgotten? We don't know, because so far, none of the black dragonflight have brought this up.

(There are these lines from the recent "Misfit Dragon" quest line with Wrathion and Vyranoth in patch 10.2, though, which I still love. It's a stretch, but it could be a nod to a lot of Badlands story things, including this, so there's that at least.)

All of this is on top of the suffering endured by Nyxondra "off-screen" as Rhea forced her to lay eggs while she was an invisible prisoner trapped within eyeshot of her unaware kin ("right in the middle of their breeding grounds"). It's unknown for how long.

One last interesting thing that stood out to me was that Rhea refers to herself "an envoy of Alexstrasza herself", so I think it's not a question of "if" Alex knew about this but "how much" did she know.

There's also a very dark joke about draconic diplomacy somewhere in here

The part of the quest that I think is really most affecting is when Rhea seems to have an epiphany and realize the extent of the pain that she's caused, but then she immediately doubles down on the excuse that Nyxondra's sacrifice "was necessary." Nyxondra, of course, seems to disagree strongly. Her free will has been taken from her by Rhea, she has no agency in this situation.

After this, Rhea sends a Champion out to "put her out of her misery," like she's a wounded animal. It's barbaric.

Then there's this line: "The Red Dragonflight is as benevolent as it is powerful." This is the final bit of salt in the wound. The Red Dragonflight was anything but benevolent in this quest. I think the only way you could come to that conclusion is if you see the corrupted black dragons as not only past the point of saying, but as lesser beings who are disposable, whose pain is some kind of comeuppance for having succumbed to the Old Gods.

It's another case in World of Warcraft of corruption being associated with moral "badness" by the narrative. The narrative in this game constantly implies that the dragons who succumb to corruption do so because they have some kind of moral failing or moral weakness. The narrative tells us that black dragons "deserve" not just to be killed but be made to suffer for their madness and for the actions they took while under the Old Gods' influence.

Rhea even says this somewhat explicitly: Nyxondra supposedly deserves what Rhea is doing to her because of what her flight did to Alexstrasza. Her suffering isn't just the consequence of cold science being done to save the future of the black dragonflight, it's deliberately retributive.

I'm not really going anywhere with this, just kind of wanted to talk again about how (intentionally or not) Wrathion's origin story is dark as hell.

#silriven: ruminations #nyxondra #rheastrasza #rhea #badlands #world of warcraft #wrathion

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dr-mechano · 1 year

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Eggman Has Always Had Redeeming Qualities: Masterpost

Eggman’s always had noble traits. He’s still a bad guy, I’m not arguing that he’s a hero by any means. But he’s not some irredeemably evil character without any nuance.

1992 - Sonic the Hedgehog 2 (8-bit)

At the end of Underground Zone, Sonic falls headlong into an unavoidable lava pit. He’d have met certain doom... if he wasn’t saved by Dr. Eggman.

Yes, Eggman immediately drops Sonic into a boss arena where he squares off against his latest Badnik, the Pit Master. I’m not arguing that Eggman was trying to save Sonic’s life in the long-term. But this action does display a sense of sportsmanship and respect for Sonic, as if to say, “No, I won’t let my arch-nemesis die by falling and tripping into lava. He, and by extension I, am too good for that.”

2001 - Sonic Adventure 2

“As a child, I looked up to my grandfather because of all the great things he accomplished in his life. He was my hero! And I wanted to be a great scientist like him. But... Did he really mean to destroy us?”

Eggman opens up in a rare moment of emotional vulnerability to Tails in this scene, revealing an important piece of his past: That he’d always looked up to and admired his grandfather, Professor Gerald Robotnik, who inspired him to get into science in the first place.

But here, for the first time, Eggman has misgivings about his childhood hero. Gerald, it turned out, wasn’t the great man he’d always imagined him to be. He went mad and tried to destroy the world - a fact that Eggman contemplates somberly. He comes off as disillusioned with Gerald, and disappointed that he would ever sink this low.

2003 - Sonic Heroes

“Eggman is a romanticist, a feminist, and a self-professed gentleman. Sadly, his charms are often difficult to spot through the abominable laughter that accompanies his maniacal declarations of world domination.” - Sonic Heroes instruction manual

Sega themselves outright say it here. Eggman, despite his villainous qualities, has these positive qualities as well, which the manual admits can be difficult to spot because of his villainy.

Lest anyone think this was the addition of a cheeky localizer, and not canon to the Japanese portrayal of Eggman, there are Japanese character profiles that say the same thing.

2005 - Shadow the Hedgehog

When Eggman learns that Professor Gerald formed an alliance with Black Doom, he fears the worst: that his grandfather betrayed humanity in the name of mere research. This shows that, while Eggman wants to conquer and rule over humanity, he still sees humanity’s value. He still sees fundamentally selling them out to alien invaders as wrong, and morally objects to what he thinks his grandfather did.

Fortunately, his fears are assuaged when he learns that Gerald created the Eclipse Cannon to stop Black Doom, which he declares is brilliant. But there’s more from Shadow the Hedgehog:

youtube

Here, Eggman - thinking this may be his final moments alive - confesses the truth to Shadow about who he is.

Eggman has nothing to gain from doing this. There’s no selfish or villainous ulterior motive that could possibly be applied here. He tells Shadow the truth about his past, giving him closure - for perhaps one final time, during his battle with Devil Doom.

He does a good thing for someone else, and gets nothing in return for it.

2008 - Sonic Unleashed

Chip worries that Eggman might be starving Professor Pickle.

Tails quickly assures him that he wouldn’t do that, because he’s “not that cruel.” And considering Tails himself has been kidnapped by Eggman (back in 8-bit Sonic 2), he’d know from experience.

2013 - Sonic Lost World

During Eggman’s truce with Sonic and Tails, Eggman immediately and without hesitation leaps into harm’s way to save Tails’s life after a rogue Cubot-Crabmeat attacks him.

This isn’t some master gambit to gain the heroes’ trust, since he leaps into danger at the spur of the moment without any time to think it over. Furthermore, Eggman really only needs Sonic to stop the Zeti, not Tails. You could argue that losing Tails might have put a damper on Sonic’s confidence and made him less likely to defeat his and Eggman’s mutual enemy, but that’s not the kind of complicated weighing-of-options that Eggman would have had any time to think over in the few seconds it took to protect Tails here.

Later, he also rescues Sonic from falling into lava (weird that that specifically has happened twice!), and after faking his own demise even takes the time to swoop down and rescue Orbot and Cubot as well (despite his constant annoyance with them, he does care).

But why would he do this? Even discounting needing Sonic to stop the Zeti, he didn’t need Tails. And after all, Eggman gleefully tries to kill Sonic and Tails in other games, right? The answer is simple: They had a truce, and Eggman has enough decency to honor his terms of the truce.

“Ah, but didn’t Eggman betray Sonic in this game?” you might ask. After all, he did show up at the end as the true final boss after Zavok was defeated. But nope! No betrayal whatsoever took place, and I’ll tell you why:

Sonic and Eggman agreed to work together until the Zeti were defeated and the energy-sucking machine was turned off. Eggman didn’t show up in his Great Eggrobo to fight Sonic until both of those conditions had been met. Meaning, strictly speaking, Eggman didn’t betray Sonic or dishonor the truce. The truce was simply over, and he wasted no time attacking immediately afterward.

2022 - Sonic Frontiers

And finally, we’re here.

In Sonic Frontiers, Eggman creates a new AI program, Sage. Initially Sage is merely a tool, designed to protect Eggman and interface with the Ancients’ technology.

However, Eggman and Sage bond over the course of the game, culminating in Eggman coming to view Sage as his own daughter. That’s right: Eggman loves Sage, and sees her as more than just another expendable minion. This is by far the most blatant example of Eggman having a heart, despite his evil ambitions.

What does any of this mean?

Well, I’ll tell you what it doesn’t mean: It doesn’t mean that Eggman’s a hero. It doesn’t mean he’s not a villain. It certainly doesn’t mean he’s a good or even morally neutral figure in the Sonic franchise.

Eggman is a bad guy, and I’m not trying to downplay that or whitewash his misdeeds. What I am saying is that Eggman’s better qualities have always existed. Frontiers didn’t invent them out of whole cloth, nor did non-game adaptations like X or Boom (though they did certainly expand and focus on these qualities more than the games usually do).

Game Eggman has everything from in-game cutscenes to official profiles spelling out that he is - to use his own words - a complicated guy.

And to me, that makes Eggman more interesting as a villain, not less. I’m looking forward to seeing more of Eggman - his good and bad traits alike - in future games!

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #Dr. Eggman #dr. robotnik #eggman #robotnik #sage

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okkotsuyuutaloml · 7 months

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a/n: i'm cleaning my computer and found a bunch of short stories which i had written for my english class (but ended up not submitting it bcs i chickened out and instead wrote an argumentative essay)

pairing: mark webber and sebastian vettel (platonic)

cw: murder, gore, horror, au

wc:

main mlist ! | f1 mlist !

thank you @taestwinkle for proofreading this for me!

in the shadowed heart of the decaying city of dunwich, where whispers of despair lingered in the alleys, two souls teetered on the brink of madness: mark webber, a forsaken artist and sebastian vettel, a macabre surgeon.

mark's studio was a morbid sanctuary, adorned with grotesque canvases that defied the boundaries of human suffering. his latest masterpiece, "the eviscerated symphony," had drawn the attention of the macabre elite, including sebastian.

sebastian, a surgeon by day and a collector of the macabre by night, had an insatiable appetite for the obscure. he frequented the darkest corners of the city in search of subjects for his experiments, always lurking in the shadows.

one fateful evening, seb's twisted path led him to mark's studio. the pungent scent of wet paint and decay hung heavy in the air as he entered. a symphony of anguish unfolded before him on the canvases, each stroke and brushstroke an ode to despair.

mark turned, his eyes like fractured mirrors, reflecting a thousand sorrows. "you," he said, his voice a haunting melody. "you are not here for my art. you are here for something darker."

sebastian nodded, a twisted grin dancing on his lips. "i seek inspiration, dear artist, and i hear your work is nothing short of transcendent."

a sinister alliance formed between them that night. sebastian provided mark with the most macabre subjects for his art, dissected and splayed open for his creative endeavors. in return, mark invited sebastian to witness his artistry firsthand, to see the unholy marriage of life and death on his canvases.

their twisted collaboration soon grew into an obsession. mark's art became more grotesque with each passing day, his brush strokes capturing the essence of suffering in a way that no other artist could fathom. sebastian, on the other hand, pushed the boundaries of medical science, experimenting on living subjects in the name of his insatiable curiosity.

one chilling night, as rain poured in torrents, the duo embarked on their most audacious endeavor yet. they ventured to the city's catacombs, a labyrinth underworld where the forgotten dead whispered their secrets. mark's canvas was set amidst the bones, lit by flickering candles, as sebastian worked meticulously to extract the essence of agony from a still-breathing victim.

as the night wore on, a maddening fusion of art and science unfolded. mark's brush moved with a feverish intensity, capturing the tortured soul of the victim on canvas. sebastian's surgical instruments danced like malevolent wraiths, unraveling the mysteries of life and death.

but then, in the catacombs' eerie silence, something unexpected happened. the victim's pain transcended the physical, and his suffering began to infect the very air around them. mark's brush shook as he felt the tendrils of agony wrap around his heart and sebastian's once-celestial curiosity curdled into a grotesque obsession.

as the ritual reached its height, the boundary between life and death blurred. the victim's anguished cries merged with mark's screams of artistic ecstasy and sebastian's maniacal laughter. in that unholy moment, they glimpsed something beyond their comprehension—a realm where suffering and creation merged, a dimension of pure horror.

the catacombs trembled, and a cataclysmic force tore through the studio above. the city of dunwich was forever scarred by the malevolent energy they had unleashed. the cataclysmic artistry they had wrought that night was their final masterpiece—a grotesque testament to the depths of human depravity.

in the end, mark and seb were never seen again, their souls claimed by the dark forces they had summoned. their studio became a forbidden legend, a place where the line between art and abomination had been irrevocably blurred.

and so, in the heart of the decaying city of dunwich, the legacy of mark and sebastian lived on—a nightmarish tale whispered in the alleys, a reminder of the darkness that dwells within the human soul.

a/n: definitely didn't have merriam webster open 😋

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athingofvikings · 3 months

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A Thing Of Vikings Chapter 23: Changing The World

Chapter 23: Changing The World

When considering the various polymaths who have speckled history's pages, Hiccup Haddock was certainly more influential than many of his peers in this multi-talented category, with noted and far-reaching works in the economic, political, social and scientific realms. Indeed, compared to the Arabian polymath Ibn al-Haytham, who passed away shortly before Haddock's rise to prominence, Haddock's direct effects on history are immeasurably greater. This holds true even when putting aside the fact that Haddock encountered al-Haytham's writings later in life and immediately began to make use of them in some of the most earth-shattering scientific innovations of his career. However, this is exaggerated to the point where, in much of the literature on the topic, he is held up as singularly influential, a world-changer without peer in his own or any era.

What many of these historians have failed to consider is the simple facts of Haddock's life in comparison with those of other exceptional intellects—he was of the nobility, and as the first tamer of dragons, essentially sat on a treasury equal to that of the combined vaults of every contemporary European noble and royal. This meant that unlike many other polymaths throughout history, Haddock, as his own patron, needed not labor for his supper; he was able to pour significant efforts and funds into his experiments without worrying about where his next meal would come from, and could afford to share his innovations freely. Al-Haytham, in contrast, had to work as a tutor, and was once imprisoned under house arrest for ten years by the Fatimid Caliph while feigning madness to avoid punishment. While Al-Haytham spent the time imprisoned productively, writing his famous Book of Optics and other treatises on math and the sciences, the obvious question arises of what sort of innovations the man might have produced had he possessed Haddock's resources and freedoms.

This is not to discount the distractions and diversions of focus that his diplomatic accomplishments cost Haddock, as he was the chief's herald and later the chief and king himself. However, while his innovations and dragons attracted significant and intense interest from all over Europe and Asia Minor, the argument may be reduced to the point that, regardless of how many offers of alliance or marriage were made to Haddock and how many state visits he made over the course of his life, even with his complete upending of the status quo in regards to communications speeds, he still possessed idle time and resources in abundance for the pursuit of knowledge and innovation, something not available to most other polymaths in history.

—The Genius Has No Clothes: An Alternate View Of Innovation, 1818

AO3 Chapter Link

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#a thing of vikings #httyd #how to train your dragon #alternate history #historical fiction

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hawkepockets · 9 months

Text

GW2 CHARACTER PAGE

Thief

Pepiya PEP-ee-yuh

she/him 🪼 45 🪼 daredevil/deadeye/specter

Pact Commander, Statics graduate, ex-Priory tomb raider. Earnest, dry, authoritative, occasionally vindictive, always compassionate, out of touch with civilian social cues. Control freak. Dabbles in Void magic.

Romances: Tarakk & @pyroengi’s Teek.

Voice claim: Colleen O’Shaughnessey (F!asura, GW2)

Necromancer

Toxinologist Tarakk tuh-RACK

he/him 🕷️ 50 🕷️ harbinger

Gorrik & Ankka’s old Inquest mentor. Expert at synthesizing venoms, loves spiders. Narcoleptic & low in life force since a lab “accident” (sabotage) in 1326. Absentminded, compassionate, intense, exists at the intersection of dad jokes & professor humor.

Co-created with @antariies.

Romance: Pepa

Voice claim: Steve Staley (M!asura, GW2)

Mesmer

Prem Ikarion PREM ih-CARE-ee-in

he/him 🐒 32 🐒 martial artist (mirage)

Born a Zephyrite with a knack for disguise glamours, in a happier timeline Prem kept faith with his people and grew into a splendid champion of Vlast. In this one, he went wrong at every turn. Once Anise’s Second Blade/favorite brainwashed goon, now an exile from the Reach, emptied of magic, and half-corrupted by an oni. But he stays silly.

In @antariies’s canon, Harley’s childhood best friend turned worst enemy turned weird boybestie again (homoerotic).

Romances: Canach, Rama

Voice claim: Nolan North (M!human, GW2 • Nathan Drake, Uncharted)

Engineer

Dara Ikarion DAR-uh ih-CARE-ee-in

she/her 🐅 24 🐅 scrapper

Prem’s kid sister, Zephyrite airship engineer & inventor, Claw of Aurene. At 16, Dara survived the Zephyr Sanctum crash and chased after Aerin and the Master of Peace, intent on saving whatever the Master protected. Her hero complex and teenage delusion of invincibility drove her deep into the jungle, where she rocketed past Faolain, Caithe, Ruka, and Commander Pepiya to claim the egg for herself and the Zephyrite people. In that first moment of psychic contact with the unborn baby Aurene, Dara’s young mind was overwhelmed by raw magic and existential terror, forging an invasive, twisted bond between her and the baby dragon and leaving Dara nonverbal, magic-sensitive, and wilder than before. Reckoning with that trauma and Aurene’s ability to take over Dara’s body took years, but now their closeness is a point of pride, not a cause of horror. Dara is happy to call herself Aurene’s Claw. Intense, contrary, bright. ROCKET PUNCH‼️ YIAH‼️

Romance: Yao

Voice claim: Brenda Song (London Tipton, Zach & Cody)

Ranger

temporary look while leveling

Halimaka hah-lee-MAH-kah

they/he/she/it 🧪 33 🧪 untamed

Once a Flame Legion inquisitor called Halima Eyesear whose investigation into the nascent Molten Alliance led her to run afoul of “B” (Scarlet Briar). Their body was gifted to the Toxic Alliance, who modified it to see how Toxic mad science and Flame magic combined. The resulting creature, “Halimaka,” sizzles with deadly heat and poison vapors and drips burning acid with every step. It has no memory of its previous life with Flame, only a dizzying sense of lost community and purpose, and the worry that it wouldn’t like who it used to be even if it could remember. Undomesticated, wistful, weird.

Romance: —

Voice claim: Geraldine Blecker (Shale, DA:O)

RETIRED: Gilwynne GIL-win

they/them 🌿 31 🌿 druid

My oldest GW2 OC, from 2017! I still have them in game, but they’re so off model they’re unplayable. :^(

Thirdborn sylvari, intended to become the avatar of a second Tree but denied their Wyld Hunt to keep free will. Fell to corruption twice (Nightmare and Mordrem), got up twice. Haughty, blunt, sensual, hungry for knowledge of magic and their own limits. Accomplished alchemist, mender, and Shaper. Hylek lover.

Romances: Trahearne & @antariies’s Commander Harley Vuong.

Voice claim: Shohreh Aghdashloo (Shala’Raan, Mass Effect • Roshan, Assassin’s Creed • Grayson, Arcane • Avasarala, The Expanse)

Warrior

Acheloe ACK-uh-LO-wee

she/they/it 🪲 15 🪲 bladesworn

Dragon’s Watch guildie, Pale Reaver. A Valiant who’s been given an endless series of mucky, ugly, tedious, small, and seemingly suicidal Wyld Hunts since her awakening. Four-armed, winged, and oddly jointed, Achi has evolved to look more and more like an unkillable insect, the more dangerous & degrading jobs they’ve survived. Caledon sylvari consider her a bad omen. Her latest Hunt, the first she’s ever resisted, is to die for the Commander. Her luckier podtwin, Boru, died in Maguuma. Solemn, prickly, devoted.

Romance: —

Voice claim: Ben Prendergast (Patroclus, Hades)

Elementalist

Cirrus Kitetail SEE-rus KITE-tail

she/her ☁️ 33 ☁️ hammer weaver

Dragon’s Watch guildie, Zephyrite. Born Decima (“Deck”) Whiptail of Iron Legion, she was piloting a copter in a tryout for her grandmother’s airborne warband in 1320 on the day Kralkatorrik flew over. The copters lost power in the arcane storm, but she kept hers aloft with her air elementalism, which she’d always hidden in the fahrar, and brought herself and her grandmother Tenar Kitewing safely down on the far side of the newly formed Brandscar. Tenar granted her the honorary warband name Kitetail, and they wandered northern Elona together, struggling to survive and find a way back to their Legion, or failing that, a new home & purpose in Elona. The Zephyrites were the answer. When the Zephyr Fleet was able to offer passage back to Ascalon years later, Tenar and her granddaughter, now called Cirrus, refused, having fallen in love with their new people. Cirrus joined Dragon’s Watch after the Dry Top crash. Bubbly, combative, short attention span.

Romance: —

Voice claim: Mara Junot (Nyoka, The Outer Worlds)

Guardian

Razan Meziani ruh-ZAHN mez-ee-AH-nee

she/her 🌞 229 🌞 willbender

A rebel Sunspear inspired by Twilight Oasis. Formerly a cheerleader for the Sunspear Order, infatuated with Amala, until a series of atrocities during the invasion of Istan convinced her Elona belonged to Joko already. The lich king promised she could “have” Amala, once Amala had sworn fealty to him, but neglected to mention they’d both be Awakened first. Raz originally developed her fighting style to help support the Sunspears’ legendary dervishes by specializing in their weak points, but after turning coat she became Joko’s favorite dervish hunter, an expert at reading their footwork, getting inside their guard, and breaking their divine channels with brutal stuns.

As a Free Awakened, jumped to defend Istan from a kryptis incursion and chased the monsters through their own rift back into Nayos. Wayfinder/SOTO protagonist.

Romances: Amala…????

Voice claim: Mallorie Rodak (Frieren, English dub of Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End)

Revenant

Kishi Genji KISH-ee GEN-jee

he/him 🦢 mid 30s 🦢 vindicator

An affable mid-ranking Canthan noble of Kurzick descent, whose family had mostly fallen out of favor with Ihn’s court until Genji started talking to an echo of Saint Viktor and channeling his power.

An arranged marriage was set up with Onasis Ai, a noble of Luxon blood who was in touch with Archemorus. Though they didn’t choose each other, Ai and Genji have become best friends and devoted partners—but are unsure whether pursuing an actual romance is something they want, or just a pressure from their families, class, and the ancient lovers’ voices in their heads.

They’re both lavished and threatened with the court’s attention as a result of their magic, auspicious marriage, and developing combat skills, but they have a secret that threatens their status far more than any previous generation’s unwise investments or misplaced courtly alliances… their very young daughter Himiko has started talking about an imaginary friend she calls the Guard Man, who follows her around wearing old timey armor and dragging his swords along the floor, and gives her the power to petrify her parents with a frustrated wail, and turn small objects into jade.

Romance: Kishi Ai

Voice claim: David Costabile (Gale Boetticher, Breaking Bad & Better Call Saul)

Not In Game

Gale/Nan Ikaros NAHN & Glow/Phaibun Ikarion FYE-beun ih-CARE-ee-in

she/her 🎏 60s

Prem and Dara’s mothers. Co-captains of the Zephyrite airship Ikaros. Nan, a fire elementalist, grew up as a poor Luxon jade miner. She fell in love with Phaibun, an air elementalist and “princess” of the Zephyr fleet as a captain’s only child, while Phaibun visited the Canthan imperial court many years ago. Phaibun is elegant, nitpicky, and cool. Nan is skeptical, spirited, and pragmatic. They call Prem “Monkey” and Dara “Tiger.”

Eun Kattarins YOON CAT-uh-rinz

she/her 🐆 80s (norn middle age)

Hoelbrak’s ambassador to the Iron Legion for 50 years. A sly, charismatic, militant snow leopard norn who walked effortlessly among the charr, but always put her people’s survival first at the expense of all else, even her own blood. Longtime on-and-off lover of Eir Stegalkin. Mother of @pact-valkyrie’s Britta, Jormag’s last and most terrible fraenir. Killed by her daughter in 1333, survived by her brother Eiko (@antariies).

Romances: Eir & unknown other norn

Malachi Olowe MAL-uhk-eye OH-lo-way

she/him 🦂 66

An Elonian bounty hunter, born Olmakhan but too restless and greedy for their way of life. Took her surname from a human deadeye she got training from, then left for dead. Double-crossed her employers one too many times, got caught between the scorned Sunspears and the punishing Mordant Crescent, and was killed in 1327. Left a mate and cub behind. Years later, snuck out of the Mists under cover of the Battle of Dragonfall. Now roaming Tyria causing low-grade havoc, pursued by demons, envoys, and Priory operatives frantic to put him back in hell where he belongs. Great storyteller. Very funny.

Romance: Her mate Dinah

Ikeda Keino EE-kay-dah KAY-no

she/her 👹 15

The half-possessed Jade Brotherhood teen Prem rescued from Behemoth’s Gap. Even after months without the oni’s influence, Keino is a bitter, snappish, self-isolating girl who resents any attempt to care for her. She wants to become an investigative journalist and take down Xunlai Jade once and for all by exposing its corruption, but to do that she has to survive high school in Kaineng. Has a twisted bond with Prem, ever since the oni made her confuse him for her father.

Farrah Whitebear FAIR-uh WHITE-bear

she/her 🐗 32

Knut Whitebear’s adoptive daughter. An elegant, serious young norn who gave up her special interest in jotun magic to serve under Jhavi in the Vigil, hoping to eliminate Jormag’s existential threat to the norn and leave them all free to pursue their peacetime passions—a decision that got her stranded, alone, freezing from the inside out in Bjora Marches. She got better, though. Mostly. Follower of the inexorable Boar Spirit.

Romance: @pact-valkyrie’s Sovhi

Hemera, Duke of False Hope HEM-uh-ruh

she/her 🌸 31

The Nightmare Courtier who mentored Gil when they were a sapling. Hemera was a secondborn who developed without protection from Mordremoth’s influence due to the Pale Tree and the Dream itself being stretched too thin at the time. Despite her ethereal beauty and tyrannical-but-nurturing “fairy queen” persona, Hemera has never felt anything except hunger and momentary satisfaction. She learned to Shape other sylvari’s bodies from watching her student Gil at work, and carved out a place for herself high in the Court by offering to change courtiers—either for beauty or efficacy in torture and raids—for favors. Hemera temporarily corrupted in Maguuma, but when Mordremoth fell silent in death, she twisted her body back to a parody of its old shape and started a new Nightmare sect in Siren’s Landing, where she preys on sapling researchers who wander too far from camp. She considers it her Dark Hunt to create a garden of mutilated sylvari that swallows the whole world, as Mordremoth’s jungle failed to do.

Romances: @antariies’s Knight Arahn

Jubilee Shaw JOO-buh-lee SHAW

she/her 🪆49 (mind’s age)/29 (body’s age)/283 (chronological age; born 1053)

The Ascalonian Hero of Prophecies, accidentally possessing her descendant’s body after a botched attempt at channeling her as a revenant legend. Out of place and time, an elementalist in a necromancer’s slightly-too-small body, blamed for killing her great-great-grandchild when she didn’t even want to return, Billy struggles to find a place in this bright and hostile new Tyria.

Khepri Chisisi KEP-ree chiss-SEE-see

she/her 🌪️ 83 at her death in 1135

The Hero of Nightfall, a legendary dervish. Long dead.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #long post #gonna post with a readmore so it doesn’t blot out the sun on anyone’s dash #ama about these fellas ALWAYS #pocket talk #oc: pepa #oc: tarakk #oc: prem #oc: dara #oc: gil #oc: eun #oc: malachi #oc: acheloe #oc: cirrus #oc: genji #oc: raz #oc: halimaka #character page

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striderl · 2 months

Note

Hey its me again, i've been away from tumblr for...ehe *look's at my marked calendar* i've been away for two day's just to go to manila and back home, another two day's for a break then today, i made one art specifically for a continuation for turi'vistain and polaroid secret friendship bond to grow! The redesign for turi is in full swing too! How about we make a three week's timeskip?

─────────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

Its been a three week's since polaroid has gotten the necklace, sawmus decided not to worry after nothing bad happen's for two week's and helped polaroid attached the necklace on polaroid, it looked quite fancy on polaroid, but ever since he had it attached, he has been feeling quite strange, like someone or something was mad at the necklace, today, foley ((hope i spelled his name right)) and his group had just found an abandoned facility and has found potion with a note, the ption's liquid was like the galaxy, though it looked like it was inside a view of a nebula, the cap for the potion was wood while it was covered in cotton place with a cream colored fabric, the note was neatly written in normal writing

Though it did caught polaroid's curiosity, since whenever polaroid get's close to the potion, the necklace's unknown gem would glow a warm violet color mix with a dark blue hue, though foley did decide to show polaroid the note, the note ↧

- "if anyone found this potion, pls be wise on using it, you won't be able to multiple it, the potion can heal bad or small injured wound's in a blink of an eye, alive or not, it can still heal the wound's, it would also have the affect's of ↦ heighten sense of hearing, smell and sensitivity of touch ↤ but its harmless if used on a harmless or truth worthy being, it only hurt's the hamrful being's, and if anyone if friend's with a being with a necklace that has an unknown gem, pls give this to them, they are seen as a worthy being to be seen as a great holder for the potion" -

- "sincerely: turi'vistian or turi for short" -

Though confusing foley decided to ask sawmus to check the necklace's unknown gem despite polaroid trying his best to process on what the note said, sawmus decided to use small drill's to make a peice of the unknwon gem to fall or crack which all left with a fail, it look's like polaroid had an indestructible necklace with him and a potion now, though polaroid do felt weirdly safe whenever the necklace glowed with the sane warm voilet and dark blue hue's every time he felt unsafe in his room or when his doing his job

─────────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

Here is what the potion look's like, i had to use some light color's but the color's used are, light yellow, light purple and light dark blue

I think we both can work our way on making polaroid and turi's friendship bond grow only even its just little

It’s an interesting concept, but what really is the mysterious corruption? Why is it targeting Polaroid’s universe? What are the intentions of the corruption?

Also how did Turi just leave a potion at a random location? If she planned the entire thing, how did she know Foley is going to that location? The members of the Film Industry rarely go outside of base, except in special occasions such as they are needed for emergency backup or assist in battle, or they need to do research and observations on the battlefield. In all these circumstances, they always need clearance and permission from the alliance science department. I’m not judging, but there are some potential plot holes in the story.

#Ask #Alternative universe #yukazami19

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wonder-in-wings · 2 months

Text

TIMING: Mid-December

LOCATION: The Common

SUMMARY: Knowing what Inge’s (@nightmaretist blood looks like, Parker (@wonder-in-wings requests they meet up so he can test a theory. For science.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Medical blood (mare)

Outside yet again. Recovering from more wounds that Emilio had inflicted upon him, not helped at all by whatever Teddy had managed to do and the subsequent, temporary madness that had gripped his mind. It wasn’t the first time, for both an encounter with Emilio and something that he didn’t place in his mind, grasping it with a forceful hand, digging its claws into his brain and spurning him to act irrational. Uncharacteristic. Unbecoming. Parker sat at a picnic table in the dusky, chilly evening of the Common, illuminated by one of the archaic streetlights that hovered above him.

One of his legs bounced absently, though not out of agitation; it was to keep his body moving, keeping him warm in the frigid evening. His hands rapped on the wooden table rhythmically, the base of a missing finger twitching as the metacarpal still carried the memory of a phalange with it. He felt exposed in multiple ways as the ghost of a grimace threatened his face, the cold biting at the inflamed knot that sat close to his spine, in that same particular spot on his back that he couldn’t seem to reach. The part where the tick was.

He was there because he was waiting for someone. Specifically, the ‘demon’ he had formed a strange sort of alliance with. If they could’ve been called alliances. There was something Parker still didn’t trust about her, understandably so if she was actually a demon. And yet, something still seemed off. Regardless, he asked if she would be able to assist him with an inquiry he had, and she had obliged on the condition that they do whatever it was he was wanting to do at night (which he found preferable) and not in private (which he preferred much less).

Ideally, this wouldn’t take long, though.

—

Inge had become relatively lazy during the nights, not often walking to her destinations but simply using the astral to her advantage. The common was so close to her office on campus that it would be ridiculous to pop into the park, and so she was doing the human thing. It was nice to stretch her legs during nighttime, anyway, and she figured it would still be best to keep her teleporting abilities a secret from the very-much watchful Parker. She had donned her glasses with tinted, though — for any curious onlookers.

He’d needed assistance, which tickled her. It would have been wiser to decline, but Inge found the notion of a hunter needing her assistance so very amusing that she’d said yes — on some conditions. Now that she no longer had a vial of her blood to leverage over him, she wasn’t so keen to meet him in his home or bunker. Who knew? Perhaps he’d figured out her lies by being buddy-buddy with any of the other bothersome hunters in town. Maybe he wanted a look at her insides. One could never be too careful with a hunter.

The most careful thing was to not meet him at all, in the first place, but there was a limit to her cautiousness. And so she approached the hunter who was sat at a picnic table with the lift of a hand. Inge slid across from him, swinging her legs over and landing the heels of her boots into the hard ground. It really was winter, judging by the way people were bundled up. The cold didn’t really affect her any more, and that was a blessing. Especially for her gas bill. “Evening, Parker.” She took stock of him, noting a lack of a finger he’d discussed previously. Emilio’s handiwork. She both delighted in and despised it. She placed her glasses on the table, as it was hardly polite to have a conversation with sunglasses on. Red eyes met the other’s blue ones. “How’ve you been?” She crossed her legs under the table. “And however can I help you?”

—

The Warden had long since trained himself to be ready for anything, even if he didn’t give the outward appearance that he was. So, when Inge appeared from a direction he wasn’t anticipating and abruptly sat in front of him, Parker’s blue gaze snapped to her though it wasn’t overly aggressive. Just alert. Blue mixed with red as she placed her glasses on the table, asking how he’d been followed by how she could help.

He cleared his throat, pulling his gaze from her to look at nothing in particular. At least she hadn’t said it was a good evening, though Parker couldn’t have been sure if it was because of the weather or their communication. Might’ve been a combination, given that their online interactions never seemed to go anywhere conducive. “How I’ve been is irrelevant.” He replied first, believing it to be true. He was of the firm impression that she cared about how he had been just as much as she cared about his birthday. That was to say, she couldn’t have cared less, ergo that conversation point was a waste of time.

“I was curious if I could observe you bleed.” He asked bluntly. “Not for a collection, not for… gratification.”

—

He was so very cut-to-the-chase, not one to embellish interactions with frivolous questions and playful prods. Inge figured it was something she could appreciate, especially when he’d been showing her around his bunker and basements — but she was a little nervous now, and so would like the empty words. There was a reason she’d invited him to meet in public. She’d visited another hunter’s bunker since their last encounter, after all, and though she was not as cautious as she ought to be, she had her moments.

She shrugged, waved away his words, as if to say if you say so. She was not going to press him to tell her how he was, especially not when his request was finally spoken. Inge looked at him with a little stunned expression, raising her eyebrows. “Excuse me?” He had an interesting way with words, she thought. Was he really just as blunt as he appeared, though, or was this hiding some malicious intent? Watching someone bleed wasn’t really a kind act, after all. How much did he want her to bleed? Where? How? Why? Did he want to cause the lacerations? Did he know she could not die from being bled out? She rapped her fingers on the table. “Pray, tell. Why do you want to watch me bleed, Parker? You already have on two occasions.”

—

Parker wasn’t sure how the conversation was going to pan out. He was also long-since past the point of trying to dance around what his intentions were. It was arguable that he never really did to begin with, even at the expense of his getting into trouble - she should’ve known that by now, given that their literal first interaction resulted in him keenly observing the glittery substance as it drizzled from her hand. “I…” And yet, the explanation caught in his throat.

But why? The answer tinged the edges of his tongue, and it was rather simple depending on the terminology he would use; she was a demon, after all, so surely she was aware of what vampires were, even if he wasn’t a vampire. ‘If dad were still alive and he found out that you’re acting like… this because of an insect, you’d never hear the end of it.’ That was it, wasn’t it? That had to have been it, the reason for this particular catching of the response. Parker felt his father’s hand tightly squeezing his shoulder as he loomed over the Warden, the memory of that oppressive strength forcing him to sit up slightly with a faint, yet sharp inhale through his nose. ‘There ya go. Gotta look presentable for your little demon friend.’

“I’m experiencing… symptoms.” He explained rather quietly, after a pause and, strangely for him, he avoided making eye contact with her now. “Well… one. But it’s been… undesirable.” He wasn’t lying as much as being more vague than he’d have liked before he heard his family members in his head, chiming into that line of thought. “And your blood is… nonstandard.” he concluded. “It doesn’t have to be a lot and… it doesn’t have to be me.”

—

Paranoid thoughts clawed at her mind, trying to understand where this request came from. Parker was a methodical man, practical — and not unnecessarily cruel, if she had to believe him. So was this how he’d approach her, should he want to do harm? Inge wasn’t sure. Her mind traveled to Rhett, another Warden in town, whom she’d been tailing as of recent. How close were these people? Did they know each other? Perhaps Parker had found out the blood he’d paid her for hadn’t been demonic in nature after all.

It took a moment for him to answer and it left ample room for her mind to work over hours. Eventually he got there, though, and she squinted at him once more. Experiencing symptoms — weren’t they all? She was certainly exhibiting some symptoms by having her mind run laps around itself to point out the dangers in meeting a hunter. Symptoms. She let out a sigh, a purely dramatic thing. At least he expressed that it just had to be a little, that it didn’t have to be him. It could still be a trick, but thus far it didn’t feel like the other was ready to jump on the offense just yet.

“What kind of symptom?” Inge wondered. “I don’t see the correlation just yet between you experiencing a symptom and wanting to see my blood.” She wanted to know more, before she’d split her skin for him again and make him witness the powdery glitter that resided within her. “I hope you can … understand my hesitation to simply cut my palm for you right here and now, without a little more context.”

—

“I do.” He replied first, and with the appropriate amount of time dedicated to make sure he didn’t respond too quickly. There was also no trace of a lie in his tone because he wasn’t being deceptive. Parker did understand, just as he understood her wanting to meet in public instead of somewhere more private. Perhaps this would incentivize her to go to a place less open. But then again… his track record hadn’t been great lately and though Inge had been spared any of his unreasonable… tantrums (outbursts? No one in his family seemed to know what to call them either, apparently), that wasn’t to say that they were friends nor that it wouldn’t happen in the future.

Not to mention there was no guarantee that she would be willing to do this.

At least not until he stopped dodging the topic. It was something Parker wished he could be more blunt about but for some reason, the explanation was caught in his throat. It was an admission of weakness, not something that graced his mind often and on the rare occasion that it did, it brought terrible shame with it. Parker Wright wasn’t a human with weaknesses. ‘We’re starting to go in circles. The demon lady already knows you have weaknesses.’ Walker suggested. ‘You made a damn fool of yourself in that bunker.’ His father added unhelpfully.

Parker rolled his eyes at the internal conversation and, still avoiding Inge’s gaze, instead looked off to the side. “I’m not a vampire.” He started. “I got… bitten by a supernatural… creature.” His sentence caught before he could say ‘insect’; that was going too far. “And I believe it venomed me. I’ve noticed that I become… compromised when I see blood.” He inhaled, his brow furrowing slightly. “But I’m not sure if… it’s the action of bleeding or if it’s the physical appearance of human blood.” He gestured to her. “Your blood is incredibly unique, obviously. You can acquire normal wounds, but you bleed abnormally. As I said, this is… for science.”

—

Her boots squelched in the wet grass as they moved, a nervous habit she soon cut off. She didn’t want to appear like she was on edge, even if she was. To show weakness was simply not permitted. Weakness was for during the daylight hours, when she didn’t have her full powers and she felt cagey, looking over her shoulders for a bearded figure or that Cortez hunter. Wondering if Owen would turn around and fulfill whatever duty he’d been convinced he had. Inge crossed her legs under the table, the pressure of one leg onto another keeping them from moving.

Parker didn’t want to cut her open himself. And yet, he’d asked after her horns and her wings — which were both items he collected. Never mind that she didn’t have them: if he was intent on acquiring them, he had the place, the means, the motive. Inge forced the thoughts from her mind, paranoia never serving her well. (The only thing that ever served her well was running from a place like this one, but here she was. In Wicked’s Rest, across a man she knew to be a hunter.)

At least the Warden was explaining himself, even if it seemed to take some effort. This she could understand, as the truth revealed itself — he was compromised. It wasn’t something she found easy to admit herself, in those moments where she was frailer than she preferred to be. But what did it matter? What he said was interesting. Inge’s curiosity was never fully satiated. She raised her brows, leaned in a little. “What do you mean? Bitten … compromised? Do you feel the urge to drink the blood you see?” She tried to think about an instance of this, but all she could think of were vampires. “You’re sure you’re not a vampire, Parker? I’ve heard of people not realizing they’ve died and transformed before.” Perhaps he was in denial. “In that case, my blood won’t interest your literal bloodlust much.” She looked at her palms, then back at him. It seemed an elaborate lie to tell, should he want to get his hands on her non-existent horns and wings. “So your hypothesis is that you won’t respond to my blood? Scientific experiments require one of those, I’ve heard.”

—

“That’s the hypothesis, yes.” Parker replied. “And… I’m certain I’m not a vampire. The only symptom I display is–” He faltered, still not sure how to word it. ‘Just be clinical. You’re good at that.’ “When I see blood, I’m mindlessly driven to consume it.” Not clinical enough? He didn’t really care; the explanation was out, and he wasn’t sure how much more blunt he had to make his usually-scholarly vocabulary for her to understand what he was saying.

If he were a more paranoid man (‘oh yeah you’re definitely not paranoid,’), Parker would’ve thought that Inge was purposefully construing his words as obtuse in an attempt to get him to display this deficiency with more humiliation. He recalled the bunker, how he felt as though his insides were shutting down as he gripped the doorknob to the holding cell. He recalled how that was blatantly in front of Inge, and how the succubus could’ve easily taken advantage of him but… she didn’t. He also recalled, however, that she seemed to hold no shortage of mildly prodding comments, small, inconsequential jabs that didn’t pierce through his confidence a vast majority of the time.

“Ergo… you’re the only one I know who doesn’t seem to have standard blood anymore. I can confirm with certainty that if… I were to start bleeding and I saw it, then myself, yourself, anyone or anything else in view would be…” Parker unraveled his fingers that had since become entwined with themselves as they rested atop the cold wooden surface of the picnic table. “Attacked.” He cleared his throat. “I’d rather not do that.”

—

“Ah, so you can still walk in the sun and all?” Inge wasn’t sure what she made of that. It was probably for the best if Parker Wright wasn’t a vampire, but it would still be mildly funny. Ironic. For a hunter to become something their own ilk hunted … there was some poetic justice in that, no? But it was better if they remained mortal. “I can always ask around. I have some vampiric friends, after all … and there’s subtypes, as far as I’m aware.” She was mostly intrigued by the more ugly types of vampire. Those shiny, perfect humans were interesting, sure, but she liked the monstrous ones.

She watched his fingers unfurl, wondered how affected the other was. He didn’t appear to be an emotional type on the surface, but she’d seen him crack before. How would he look when bloodthirsty? When not only moved by greed for the parts of the fae he hunted, but by actual bloodlust? Inge tried to imagine him as one of the patrons at Dance Macabre, teeth sunk into the neck of a human, unable to stop themselves. It wasn’t something that fit Parker, but then how well did she know him, really?

At least he hadn’t met any other mares, or hadn’t gotten to know them well enough to know about their blood. Inge wasn’t sure if Parker liked liars, but she assumed he wouldn’t enjoy having been fooled. “I guess you found that out the hard way?” She considered his request, mildly curious to see what he’d do if he saw her non-blood. “And other people’s blood also makes you …. filled with bloodlust?” That had to get in the way of his ‘profession’, she figured. “Unfortunate, considering your line of work.” Inge looked at him. “And what if you do become rabid upon seeing my blood? I would defend myself, you know.”

—

“...Yes.” The question was dumb, but he supposed she needed the clarification. “But you’re welcome to “ask around”.” Parker highly doubted, even as they engaged in this awkward conversation, that he was a vampire. It didn’t fit; he knew Metzli, he could see the look in their eye when they first interacted. Was that… how he looked when everything hazed over, when his vision was bathed in red and all of his higher intelligence was replaced by an animalistic need to consume blood? The word that Winter had used when they first met flitted through his mind and he tensed visibly at it, as though being confronted with an offensive odor.

No, he was in control. He always was. Always had to be. Every member of his family except for his mother said that he wasn’t capable of feeling anything. He was a machine, not a person… and right now, the machine, unfortunately, had some sort of virus, something that urged him to power it with blood. Parker was in control. He had to be. This would go away, and he’d be back to normal. Or whatever version of normal existed for him.

Some aspect of that version of normal was something Inge brought up, of course, as she mentioned his ‘line of work’. He wouldn’t admit it to her but Parker had been unnecessarily pent-up since then, feeling the fevered heat of whatever was stuck in his back flaring slightly. An artist without an outlet. “It’s not rabid.” The Warden felt the need to clarify first. “It’s… different.” Blue eyes turned to focus on nothing in particular again, avoiding eye contact with the demon. “And I expect you to. As I’ve mentioned, this isn’t for satisfaction or to fuel any desires. If you’re attacked, I fully expect you to fight back. And I will not hold it against you.” He made this as clear as he possibly could, locking eyes with her once more.

—

It almost sounded like he was doing her a favor, if she were to ask around. Like he was humoring her and her whims. Inge raised an eyebrow and said nothing, deciding she’d not stick out a finger for him. She had more interesting things to talk about with her fellow undead, after all, and she wasn’t appreciative of Parker’s tone. That these things affected her were best left unaddressed, though. To participate in an argument with a hunter was something she figured foolish.

But still, it was curious. Whatever was afflicting him was curious. Inge wasn’t sure if she wanted to help Parker or if she just wanted to know whatever it was that was ‘compromising’ him. Her mind went to Dīs and their antlers and how they’d look in the warden’s collection. Maybe it would be better if the other remained compromised — though maybe it made him all the more vicious. “How is it different? You said you attack without meaning to.”

She was glad, at least, that he expected her to fight back. It wasn’t like she had much to fight back with, but the astral was hers and she’d gotten out of tighter corners. “Alright.” He seemed to mean it. Inge slipped her hand into her coat pocket, producing a switchblade that she flicked open. She steeled herself, raised the same finger she’d cut open for him a while ago and slid the blade over the top of her finger to create a small cut. Underneath her split skin the glittery energy shone. She stretched her finger so her skin would strain and held it out to Parker, some of the non-blood drizzling on the table before them. “Well?”

—

There was a pause between the two and in that space of silence, however brief it might’ve actually been, Parker’s mind was working. It was always working. It never stopped, despite how he was sure that most people likely thought that he never did. ‘What are you thinking?’ His mother asked him more than once. ‘How can you be sure he even is?’ His father replied dryly before adding ‘You know, that’s one thing I like about him. No one can tell what’s going through that head.’

‘Daddy’s little serial killer.’

Loops of thoughts racing each other, each one wanting to be the one he thought of at any given moment. He shook his head. “It’s not a neurological condition.” Parker replied rather bluntly. “...I don’t think.” He added with a small admission that he wasn’t entirely sure what it was. He had some educated guesses for sure, and viewing Inge’s blood would help in narrowing down the potential list of things that he was aware it could’ve been. He cleared his throat and his brow furrowed slightly. If there was something he wanted to add onto it, it was abandoned and his blue eyes danced indiscriminately on the table between them as a temporary uncertainty washed over him.

When she replied with a simple ‘alright’, the Warden released a quiet exhale through his nose and the same blue eyes that weren’t focusing on much at all suddenly and astutely honed in on the succubus, flickering to her face before moving to the knife she had procured from a pocket. He kept his posture as casual as he could’ve made it, though his fingers instinctively curled inward, pulling his nails across the rough wooden surface as a sign of anticipatory anxiety that seemed to match the pulse in his back. He’d be right. Parker would be right and wouldn’t react to her blood, then they could both go on their way. And sure enough, as she drew the blade across her finger and applied enough pressure to get the wound to ooze the aesthetic, glittering powder, he leaned back after carefully observing it for a moment.

“Nothing.” He sighed, a quiet relief able to be heard lacing his monotone. He looked up and around their surroundings for a moment as his hands acted on their own, reaching into one of the pockets on his cargo pants and pulling out an adhesive strip. “I apologize for wasting your time but I appreciate your willingness to cooperate.” He said, offering the strip out to her and breathing rather deeply, almost as though he were recovering from a weight being pressed into his chest slowly but consistently, drawing the air from his lungs, suffocating him with the unknown.

—

She was waiting with metaphorical bated breath as the energy that brought her life (she thought — she wasn’t entirely sure on her own biology) slipped from her hand. Inge thought herself plenty of areas, but when it came to afflictions – no matter what kind – she knew she wasn’t the wisest. She wasn’t interested in knowing about disease and disorder in depth, as it was ugly enough on the surface. This did mean she wasn’t sure what Parker was dealing with, nor if it put her in any danger.

Her other hand continued to hold onto her switchblade, the pearl handle a comfort in her hand. It was a small blade, but it was something. But no response seemed to come. Parker let out the breath Inge would have been holding if she still needed to breathe and she watched him carefully. “Good.” She took the strip, applying it to her finger and resting her hand on the table, closer to her chest.

“My blood doesn’t have any … nutritional value to vampires, so perhaps the same goes for whatever predicament you’re in at present.” He was relieved, though he had a strange way of showing it. Inge figured that Parker wasn’t fond of feeling weak or out of control, which was understandable — she felt that way, too. It was still something she took note of, wondering how close the warden was with another warden in town. She hoped that this gesture of goodwill would go a long way. “You’re welcome, anyway. If you ever figure out what it is that’s plaguing you, I’d be curious to hear.”

— —

When she took the strip, Parker didn’t relax per se but he did withdraw his own hands, folding his arms across his chest as his blue-eyed stare focused on something else. “I don’t think it’s the nutritional value.” He admitted after a pause. “My mind knows I don’t gain sustenance from blood consumption. I don’t…” The Warden faltered, his fingers pulling at the material of his sleeves. “I don’t keep anything I consume down. It’s not nourishment, it’s not biology or vampirism.” The familiar pulsing sensation that was subtly bothering him came back and he moved in an attempt to not apply more pressure on it as he leaned back.

“I think I was bitten by a clinger.” He replied at long last and accompanied with a heavy sigh, one that conveyed a sense of disappointment, failure… perhaps a sting of embarrassment, as some member of his family had mentioned earlier in his head. “Their saliva… can emulate different effects. Some target undead. Some have no such specifications and can strip you of your abilities entirely, sometimes so severely that you can’t get them back.” Parker was particularly glad that he wasn’t experiencing that one.

“But there’s… one that… it makes you crave blood.” He straightened up slightly as he explained it. “Not a vampire, nothing useful or necessary like that.” As much as he didn’t like to admit that he had vampire friends now, who he did prefer having around and that it was… something they had to deal with. Parker supposed the necessity didn’t bother him insomuch as when whoever had to deal with it insisted that it wasn’t them. Blaming something else for the messes they made. “Apologies. I don’t mean to waste more of your time.” He exhaled and his icy blue eyes, now expressing what could’ve been a hint of melancholy though for what reason, he wouldn’t have been able to tell her. “I’m not compensating you as healthily as last time but if you’d like for me to pay you for this experiment, I’m willing to offer one hundred.”

— —

Her face pulled into a mild grimace. “Yikes.” Quite the predicament to be in. Inge found little empathy within herself for the hunter but she could still appreciate that vomiting other people’s blood back up was nasty. “So you have drank other people’s blood?” That was interesting. She’d like to pick his mind about it, for him to retell that occurrence to her in great detail and leave nothing out. If Parker was anything to her, he was her muse.

Her eyebrows creased a little at his explanation, new information reaching her. She’d not heard of these creatures before. Though she knew, vaguely, that there were diseases that could affect the undead she’d never really come into close proximity to it. “What can they do to the undead? Where and how do they find their victims?” There was a sheen of genuine concern on her face, a rare thing. She didn’t want to be sick. She didn’t get sick any more and it was marvelous, one of the larger perks of being undead. Disease scared her — she remembered the hospital. She always remembered the hospital. It was the dark shadow at the end of her metaphorical bed. To be unwell, to be reduced, to be helpless and slowly dying … Inge would shiver at the thought if she’d allow herself to.

“So what is the solution? Is it like an insect bite, or a tick?” She remembered being young, coming home after running in the fields, having to check her body for ticks along with her siblings before they were allowed to bathe. Inge pushed the memory aside. “Ah, it’s alright. The one thing I have plenty of is time.” She looked at Parker a little funny, shaking her head. “No, I don’t want your money for this, don’t be ridiculous.” As if she hadn’t asked for far too much money for her blood before. “It’s on the house.”

— —

“I have, yes.” Parker didn’t like admitting it, but he was able to regain his clinical approach to the whole ordeal, not to mention he had somewhat hoped that she didn’t interpret anything he was saying as grasping for attention. Perhaps that was part of the reason why he had so much trouble expressing himself to others. “Fae, human, shifter… the only one I haven’t yet is undead blood but I’m not sure if I can.” He wiped the table of the glitter that floated from her miniscule wound and rubbed it between two fingers, examining it similar to how he had done so the first time they met. “Succubus blood is also exempt.”

Then she asked about the deadclinger, and blue eyes drifted back up to the demon’s face where he could read an emotion previously unseen on it. Was she worried? Parker didn’t think he understood why; she was a demon, not undead, so surely she didn’t have to worry about something as inconsequential as a supernatural parasite. “They’re ticks. They can be found anywhere, but deadclingers can sense undead blood.” He explained. “Their saliva infects the bloodstream and reduces them to their base instincts. Mindless, starving things. The sensation goes away with time; it should be over in a few weeks.” Granted, he hoped it was sooner given his enhanced physiology but given that this was a new experience for him, he knew better than to assume it would be shortened.

Inge let him know that he didn’t have to pay this time and it was Parker’s turn to express a rare emotion: faint surprise. His eyebrows raised slightly accompanied with a small tilt of his head. From what he had gathered about her, she was opportunistic, trying to further whatever endeavors she was working on or interested in. “If that’s true, then I appreciate your time and… willingness to be involved in my scientific inquiry.”

— —

Right — right, he didn’t know she was undead. Inge realized her slip up a few beats too late and she was lucky to not have any red blood in her system, otherwise her cheeks would have flushed scarlet. She considered his predicament, the looming threat of him going to search for undead blood. She disliked the concept, not only because she worried about him finding out about mares but because she cared about her fellow undead in a way. “As far as I know they don’t really bleed. Or well, if they have blood — it’s rather useless. Not like their heart has to pump it around.”

The idea of becoming sick in one way or another made her feel deeply unsettled and she didn’t think that was a good way to feel around the likes of a hunter. She hoped he’d think her look of dread was one borne out of care for someone undead. It wasn’t fully untrue. She also dreaded one of her loved ones becoming sick. “I trust you’ve taken the tick out, then. I suppose we must all return to childhood and check our bodies after every walk in nature.” Raise your arms, check under your knees, in the warmest folds of the body where the creatures liked to bite down. She felt itchy. She felt almost human for it.

She felt the impulse to leave, nerves crawling. “Of course. I’m an academic,” she said casually, raising from where she sat. Inge looked at the granules of non-blood scattered on the park ground. It might as well have been a college girl’s make up. “Do let me know if you learn more, won’t you?” She’d ask Anita about this — she knew things about bugs, after all. Perhaps she knew about these kinds too. Plus she was a safer bet than a hunter. “Have a good evening, Parker.”

— —

“I was thinking along similar lines, but…” The Warden fell silent for a moment. “I’m not sure.” He didn’t want to take any risks, not after his string of violent tendencies the past week or so. “Rest assured, I have removed the tick.” Parker had Winter to thank for that, though he still associated that day with intense shame. He hadn’t intended on it turning out the way it had. He hadn’t intended on finding himself talking to Ingeborg about her blood again, either.

But… he had. ‘And to think, all’a this mess was caused by one little insect.’ His father mocked him lightly as Parker sat at the kitchen table, wordlessly and calmly applying a cold compress to an inflamed circle on his arm. Granted, at the time his father was purposefully being obtuse - it was a simple thing and the bite hadn’t affected anyone else. There was no ‘mess’ involved then, not like now.

The hunter shook his head faintly, sharp blue eyes following the succubus as she got to her feet. An academic, right. College professors tended to be a cut above their peers in the education field, even if someone like Parker didn’t really consider ‘art’ to be in the same level of importance as ‘math’. It wasn’t his business. She had shown up when he asked and extended her assistance and Parker had a greater understanding of the bloodclinger now. His fingers that were rubbing the glitter between them pressed each other hard enough that there was an audible sound of granules being scraped against skin. “I will.” He assured her, with a quiet honesty as he stared up at her form, which was shadowed by the light of the lamppost behind her.

He would wait until she was gone before getting up himself; for now, he was going to remain sitting, feeling the cogs in his brain moving too quickly for the naked eye to process. The scale. The pendulum. His father’s eyes boring into his back from the inside of his skull. The taste of blood oozing down his throat, meeting with stomach acid that wanted to come back up. No more hunting, at least not for the time being. “You as well, Inge.”

#wickedswriting #writing // bloody curious #writing with // Ingeborg #medical blood tw

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