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professionalranter31 · 3 years

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What is this kid?

As Izuku lands, he tightens the cape to keep Eri close. The raid just went straight out window with Nighteye injured and Mirio losing his quirk. He is honestly just running on his instincts at this point and trying to ignore the pounding in his head.

A giant monstrosity bursts out of the ground and Izuku sees Overhaul at the center. He growls and activates Full Cowling ready to fight to protect the little girl who is clinging to him shaking in absolute fear. Taking a step he rushes forward and kicking Overhaul into the sky and jumps after him delivering a quick punch.

“Don’t you-” Overhaul tries to say something but Izuku doesn’t care and hits him again.

Down at the ground Uraraka and Tsuyu have gotten Nighteye there and watch the fight in awe but notice something that doesn’t look right, “Why is there steam coming off of Deku-kun?”

Another hit to the madman and Izuku just keeps getting angrier ‘Why won’t he just stay down!?’

As Izuku continues to hit Overhaul more steam continues to come off of him until a burst of it covers both Overhaul, Izuku and Eri until the trio see the little girl falling from the sky still holding onto the cape as though it were a life line. Tsuyu quickly jumps and grabs the little girl and as she comes down she sees the cape ‘Did Overhaul mange to grab it?’ near the knot it was torn.

As they look up they see a giant shadow begin exit the cloud. Overhaul plummets to the ground and another blur rusher after him with steam coming from it. Another hit and the blur seems to grow bigger but then another explosion of steam appears as Overhaul hits the ground.

He gets onto his monstrous feet and tries to move and grab Eri when a large blur hits him away. A large stomp was heard as growl escapes whatever is in the cloud.

Suddenly, a large gust comes from within the cloud and blows away the steam revealing the creature that stands where Izuku should be.

Towering even over Overhaul in his monstrous form stood a green scaled dragon. Spikes trailing down the back ending in a spear-like tail the muscles rippling with scarred flesh. Upon the head adorned five sets of horns the slit eyes a vibrant green. Another growl escapes the beast’s throat showing the maw of razor sharp teeth before it bellows a monstrous roar that shattered the windows leaving those closest to it to cover their ears and alerting those that are currently underground.

Taking a charge the dragon headbutts Overhaul back into the air and with mighty push of it’s wings follows when green lightning flows over the creature in some areas taking shape of the scars.

“DEKU-KUN!?!?”

Izuku in his new form punches Overhaul with his paw before quickly headbutting the Yakuza leader again. As he goes further in the air smoke begins to leave Izuku’s mouth before he breathes out a torrent of fire straight at his enemy.

As Overhaul screams in pain Izuku hits him one more time and forces him to crash once more into the ground where he disconnects from the ally he combined with.

Trying to get up Overhaul reaches for his gun hoping maybe he can salvage this situation when the dragon lands in front of him. The other heroes coming out from underground they stop and gape at the site before them of towering dragon leaning its giant horned head to growl at their main target of the raid who is shivering in utter fear.

Overhaul begins to raise the gun with quirk erasing bullets loaded inside when black tendrils burst out between the scales of the dragon and grabs his hand while new tendrils grab the gun and the other cartridge of bullets. Raising his free hand he tries to bring down on the face of the dragon when another tendrils stabs through the palm of his hand spins rapidly creating a hole in his hand. His once captive arm is let go but before he can try and heal himself his hand is stabbed again and the process is repeated.

Multiple tendrils take the gun and bullets; and cover them into a sphere and begin to squeeze breaking everything throwing the ruined weapon into the sky and Izuku breathes another torrent of searing flames completely destroying the dangerous weapons. As he takes a breath a third explosion of steam escapes from him and there he stands human again at least somewhat. Before anyone can ask questions, the green-haired boy falls to the ground unconscious.

~A couple hours later~

At the hospital Aizawa, Toshinori and Inko stand on in a hospital room.

“I thought his quirk was super strength not turning into a god damn dragon!” Aizawa suddenly screams out frustrated since none of this makes sense.

“Aizawa, I don’t understand this either, but there is no need to lash out. Ms Midoriya can you explain the quirk of young Midoriya’s father please?” Yagi decides to try and get to the root of this connundrum they are currently experiencing.

“T-this wasn’t what was on-n the donor’s-s inform-”

“Wait, donor?”

“O-oh um, my husband wasn’t f-f-fertile and well I-I had always really wanted a child so I had gone to a sperm bank and asked for an insemination from someone with a fire quirk so it could be like it was o-our own child but well when Hisashi f-found out what I had done h-he left. T-t-turned out he had cut his tubes a-and never wanted a-a child.” Inko manages to get out through her worry for her son as she looks to him on the bed.

Izuku is now sporting the same amount of horns as his dragon form. Scales litter his body now and x-rays showed that he now has a new organ which they theorize is for the fuel for his fire breathe.

“I’ll have Recovery Girl run a DNA test to see who the sperm donor is so maybe we can get some answers.” with that Aizawa and Toshinori leave the room in the hopes of getting some answers.

~One hour later~

Toshinori and Aizawa sit before Recovery Girl waiting for her to tell them the results.

“Midoriya’s DNA is a bit strange right now but I managed to isolate what I was looking for and for some reason he has four biological parents. I have yet to call the three donors yet as I figured you would like to know who they were. First, we have Ryuko Tatsuma AKA the Dragon Hero Ryukyu so one part is solved on Midoriya’s quirk. Secondly, we have Taishiro Toyomitsu AKA the BMI Hero Fatgum, I have yet to figure out how this factors into his quirk yet. Finally, we have Enji Todoroki AKA the Flame Hero Endeavor which explains the fire breathe.”

The room is currently silent as the two teachers absorb the information they have just been told.

A/N

Welp, that’s it people. One piece of information I couldn’t tell you guys is that the sperm bank was a front for the HPSC to try and create powerful quirks for the future and Inko’s request was perfect for them to try their hands at combining multiple pieces of DNA.

@musicfeedsmysoul12 @anastasian-dreamer

Have fun with this!

If you got any feedback for me on how I can improve my writing you can tell just don’t be rude about it.

#bnha #izuku midoriya #sir nighteye #yagi toshinori #shouta aizawa #inko midoriya #recovery girl #fatgum #ryukyu #bnha endeavour #eri #overhaul #uraraka ochaco #tsuyu asui

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lothirielswan · 5 years

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“Pastry Crimes” [20]

Join the journey on AO3!

Quest Objective: Save the mages (I’m talking to you, Thedas).

My feet squeaked on the tile as I came to a stop. The world felt hazy around me, like I was trapped in a dream--or a most terrible nightmare.

He knows.

My boots let out another shriek as I spun on my heel. Grand Magister Rommath’s face was mostly unreadable, but his stare was as watchful as stars in the night sky.

“How…” My voice was far more scratchy than normal. “how did you know?”

The Grand Magister seemed a lot taller than he did before. Intimidating. Threatening. My wild imagination twisted reality and I suddenly felt like I was standing before my own Vampyr, draped in blood-soaked robes, barring his sharp fangs. I wanted to run, and when I realized why I couldn't, my legs trembled.

I was terrified.

My family was filled with social pariahs, but I had kept one part of that lineage secret. It was one less thing I had to worry about on a new planet. Now the flat of the blade called vulnerability slid across my skin with a cool caress. I’m the daughter of the so-called monster and the faraway coward. I am the spawn of the outcasts of Outland. And it has come back to bite me in the ass.

“I had my suspicions...the Black Prince confirmed them.” Rommath said.

The daughter of a traitor was betrayed...how ironic. I didn't have to believe Rommath’s words, but I knew the truth had a habit of stinging. It was searing in my chest now.

I couldn't decide between fidgeting with my fingers or fixing every strand of hair on my head. I settled for crossing my arms across my torso, steeling myself for how bleak my life was about to become. “Are you going to kill me, then?”

“No.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“I should.” Rommath mimicked my actions as his bare arms folded across his chest.

I loathed the new position that Wrath had put me in. Rommath knew my secret, which meant he had leverage. He had power over me. Wrathion had placed me on his chessboard, and now I was stuck taking his punishment for the game.

A banging started in my head. Only when Jaina spoke did I realize it was her footsteps on the stairs as she fled down them. Her blue skirts fanned around her like choppy waves.

Blue.

Kalec.

My inhale was deep and painful as I looked up at Jaina. She had no idea of my lineage. I preferred to keep it that way, but Kalec came first.

“What are you doing? We need to move!” Jaina’s voice was back to it’s grim determination, young yet aged, and she grabbed my arm as she passed.

I glanced back at Rommath one last time. What would he do next? Inform Sylvanas, and lead her to the peak of anger towards me? Set me up to an impossible task, bound to his will?

I had no clue. And the unknown clawed at my insides like a caged beast as Jaina blinked away from the Violet Citadel.

We suddenly appeared before the thick double doors of Violet Hold. Two guards stood at attention, adorned with troubled expressions as Jaina approached.

“Questions will be answered later. Double the patrols of the city.” Jaina shouted orders like a veteran general and strode with the grace of the tides. The two guards raced down the coral ramparts. Jaina and I stopped before the crippled metal doors.

“Prisoners will spread across Dalaran. I informed council members Ansirem, Karlain, and Vargoth. We will rescue Kalec, and join them in the fight on the streets. We keep this as covert as we can.”

At least one of us has it together. Jaina really does deserve a vacation. After this, maybe Kalec can send Jaina to some island getaway where she can smell a bunch of books--and I’ll send her a danish. Oh, food. I miss the comfort of food right now--dammit, stomach, not now! Kalec and my future are on the line!

Jaina pointed her staff at the entrance and the doors shuddered. The battered doorway was forced open by an incredibly unhappy host, coming to throw out her rude guests.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness quicker than Jaina’s. Embers emitted a weak lavender glow in braizers. My sight felt strained. There was a thickness in the air when I breathed in. I had become accustomed to the air saturated with magic as I stayed in Dalaran, but this was different. It was like trying to breathe underwater as something foreign filled my lungs.

My hands immediately went to my goggles, securing them on my face to mask the glow of my eyes. The shadows welcomed me with open arms, and I greeted it with both knives in my grasp.

I glanced back at Jaina. The glow of her staff was the brightest object in the room; she was a lighthouse, searching the ebony seas for Kalec.

“I smell fel.”

Lord Malgath--I remember him. It's sick and sad that I do.

I sensed something else in the dark with me. I stayed away from the walls and empty cells; being cornered in my profession was a death sentence. I stumbled on something as I backed up into the middle of the room.

“This behavior will not be tolerated.” Jaina’s tone was stern, like an adult addressing a child. “You will return to your cell or face the wrath of the Kirin Tor.”

I did a costly move and glanced down at my feet. Once again, my vision was deceived, like a veil suppressing my view. Inside my leather gloves, my fingers ached from how tightly I held my daggers.

“Ha! The Kirin Tor is nothing to us--beware the might of the Legion!” An orcish voice howled.

Jaina’s eyes blazed with an icy blue light. “Beware of me!”

In one swift motion too perfect for mortals, Jaina pointed her staff at the empty space beside her. The air caught fire and red flames roared.

Lord Malgath’s form was released from the shadows, crying out in pain. I wanted to extract my own hatred on the Legion, but I was onto something. I jammed one of my fists in my pockets and threw a flare at the ground.

Light popped into place like fireworks and the ground was illuminated. Kalec’s dragon form towered over me, drenched in some dark mist.

Stars! I can't get rid of that junk…

“Jaina!” I juggled sharp objects in my hand and blasted my pistol at the fel orc. The archmage looked over at me, the source.

I gestured with my gun at Kalec. “Switch places with me!”

“We’re in battle, Eona! You could use a more formal term--”

“Can you teach me proper grammar and word choice later?” I said and raced back towards the entrance. My words were wispy against the wind and my knives whistled as I gained speed. Jaina ducked as I leapt over the stairs and planted my foot in Malgath’s abdomen.

Jaina went off to undo the warlock’s bonds. I was alone, my mind distracted with thoughts of Rommath and Kael’thas and impending doom.

I wanted to gag as Malgath panted from my blow. His breath carried the heavy stench of the Legion; brimstone and sourness and decay. It made me feel younger and smaller, summoning memories of days long ago when I visited the toxic lands of Shadowmoon Valley.

I was supposed to be fast and fatal. I was supposed to be a tornado, unleashing the ferocious fury of nature in quick, twisting blows. But I was none of those things; I was just a scared kid running around in circles.

My footing slipped and I crashed down the stairs. The sharp edges of the stone cut into my side, promising bruises and slightly cracked ribs. The pain was nothing as my skull knocked against the tile floor. Foreshadowing resonated to intensify the agonizing throb.

“And another so-called hero falls to the Legion,” The orc was cloaked in shadow, but I could imagine the satisfied smirk on his face from his tone.

My fingers hastened back to the depths of my pockets and shook as I tossed a handful of little paper balls packed with ammunition at Malgath’s looming silhouette.

As my to-be murderer was stunned by the popping lights and stinging pain, I yanked my boomstick out of it's holder. I winced as the weapon went off. The sound of Malgath’s corpse hitting the ground followed.

“Jaina,” I called out from my upside-down position, staring up at the inky-black ceiling that threatened to reign over my whole world. “I’ve fallen...and I can't get up.”

Kalec’s half-human, half-elven face hovered over mine. The long tendrils of his hair eerily reminded me of Malgath’s magic. The longer I stared, the more he started to sway...he multiplied into three Kalecs, each of them bearing a look of weariness and worry.

“Before you get on to me about my carelessness and pastry crimes, I have to tell you...what do I have to tell you?” I asked, my eyebrows scrunched together as my thoughts scattered like a pile of dead leaves.

Six Jainas appeared with her braid swaying like part of an old clock. It was a dizzying, hypnotizing motion that made my head spin.

“Are you alright, Eona?” The Jainas asked. Despite the many voices talking, they sounded faint.

“You know…” I held up a finger as I pondered what I wanted to say. “if Khadgar was turned undead by Sylvanas...I think he would be a lot like Beetlejuice. I see it now.”

“...Damn, I broke her. Sylvanas is going to kill me now,” Each Jaina said and pursed their lips. But now all of the copies were fading, and the endless night was taking over.

“Wait...isn't that...isn’t that my line?”

Before I could catch her response, darkness took over.

~Anduin Wrynn, Violet Citadel~

Aunt Jaina desperately needs a vacation. It takes me a while to recall the last time she smiled, or laughed, or a time when her goblet was filled with water instead of a...stronger substitute.

“You look troubled, Your Majesty. You’ve looked troubled for quite some time.”

A larger figure caught up to me in the carpeted halls of the guest suite. The scent of crushed leaves and fresh dirt crossed my nostrils.

Father?

I buried the thought as soon as it came. I didn't have the time nor the strength to dwell on it. The true figure striding beside me was the night elf leader; Malfurion Stormrage. His form was truly unique; from the antlers that rose high above his head to the feathers that billowed down his arms. Malfurion was the embodiment of nature.

I straightened my back and offered him a polite nod. “Thank you for your concern, Archdruid. I learned the look from Lady Proudmoore.”

Malfurion’s lips smiled beneath his owl-shaped nose. I was allowed to utter such remarks in his company; we spared together many times. Playing Hearthstone, of course.

“I’d rather you acquire that than Greymane’s stubbornness,” Malfurion’s voice lowered as we passed closed doors along the way. The halls were lit with faint candles and furnished with violet silk. The pearlish texture of the walls was far more refined than the halls of Stormwind Keep. Dalaran held a faint resemblance to my home, but there was a strange feeling to it; the exotic energies and the endless knowledge. Aunt Jaina was lucky to spend time in such a bizarre place.

Aunt Jaina spoke of some accident that occured, and I was to tend to the victims. Malfurion was given the same orders, and we reported to the Purple Parlor together. When I activated the portal to the tower, a tingling sensation raced across my skin. The magic of mages was thrilling, but I preferred the warmth and peace that radiated in my core when I used the Light.

My gaze flit across the seating area to the three limp bodies. Archmage Khadgar, Archmage Modera, Archmage Aethas...they’re the most powerful mages in Dalaran! What in Azeroth’s name happened here?

Malfurion and I exchanged a look before I walked over to Khadgar. He appeared older from the aging spell, but in this moment, he truly seemed weak and feeble. His skin was pale and his chest rose with uneven breaths.

“Our archmages seemed to have a run in with a Vampyr,” Malfurion gestured with his claws beneath Khadgar’s neck. Two small entry wounds swelled at the base of his throat.

“How did this happen?” I asked. My brows furrowed together as I looked up at the green-haired elf.

“It’s Dalaran, King Anduin. Mages are known for their dangerous practices--you’re questioning the lot that juggles fire with their bare hands.” There was a hint of distaste in Malfurion’s voice when he spoke of them. I chose not to address it.

“So how do we tend to them?” I said.

“Hmm...perhaps you could burn the venom out with the light, and I will remedy the rest?” Malfurion offered. When I nodded, he took a step back, “I’ll restrain the other two. Be careful with that one.”

I kneeled down next to the archmage and pressed my fingers over the two small gashes. I jumped when Khadgar’s eyes flew open.

“You smell…” He sucked in a heavy breath like the air was wine. I didn't budge. I murmured a prayer and a refreshing wave of light flew to my fingers.

I liked to think that I knew Khadgar very well. We exchanged many letters and met secretly during the recent Legion invasion. He was one of the few that did not detest my belief in peace, and did not require me to have the same intimidating presence of Father.

“Anduin…?” Khadgar rasped. His heavily dilated eyes focused on me. “What...where is...where is Eona?”

My face felt hot at the sound of her name. My skin tingled like I was calling upon the Light. I looked down and shook my head. “I don't know, Khadgar.”

Another thought came to me. I glanced back at Malfurion. He was too busy directing the potted plants of the room to restrain the archmages. Khadgar may not remember me asking, with the loss of blood and all. I’ll be lucky if he understands a word I'm saying.

“Eona and Ranger-General Halduron seem close,” I said carefully. “Are they…?”

“No, thank the Light. The whole ‘sexy cheetah’ nickname concerns me,” Khadgar groaned and turned over. I rose to my feet to keep my hands on top of his wound, whispering another prayer. Some color returned to Khadgar’s skin when the light faded in my palms. “But she’s chosen worse.”

I froze. “Chosen worse…?”

Khadgar nodded into one of the pale blue pillows. His voice was muffled as he said, “There was this goblin on Draenor that reeked of sarcasm--but I’ll never get over her first boyfriend. Who names their child Om? Must’ve been a troll thing, or a food craze. He died, found an Alliance banner on his dead body one day.”

My eyes widened. Well then...irony at its finest.

I thought back to my history. Have I been with anyone else, in the romantic sense…? I was always trying to convince diplomats of peace, and studying the Light. It was hard to incorporate any other personal affair with everyone always leaning over my shoulder--and Genn shoving suitors at me. Every person I met through nobles and diplomatic gatherings was so proper and precise. I think I have enough of that in my life, Eona is different. I feel like I’m allowed to be human around her--I’m allowed to be myself.

“But there was one…” Khadgar tapped the edge of the pillow. “Yes, this one fellow in Pandaria that she dated. Eona really liked him--she wouldn't shut up about him.”

My face grew hot again as he continued. “--Then Alexstrasza threw a bunch of suitors her way. Those did not end well.”

“Anduin? The cleansing only works if you summon the Light,” Malfurion’s voice shook me from my daze.

“Right--! Sorry,” The rest of the time I cared for Khadgar was spent in physical silence, but my mind was filled with ramblings. When I first met Eona, she never showed me any hostility. Yes, Garrosh was chasing both of us around with a giant stick, but she never mentioned the troll that died because of my people.

I finished my work with Khadgar and removed the venom from the rest. It was a tense job, but I completed it unscathed. The portal to the Purple Parlor shimmered as newcomers arrived.

Jaina had become a pillar, supporting the sagging Kalecgos that leaned on her and carrying a limp form in her arms.

I stood as soon as I recognized her. Rosy-pink skin and copper locks like the birth of the day. Freckles like the lingering stars of the dawn. Eona’s smile was like the early-rising sun, but it did not shine in this moment.

“You really need to lay off the pastries,” Jaina cast a glare down at Eona’s unmoving form, then her eyes sought mine. “Don't tell Sylvanas.”

#thrilling adventures of eona #Eona Strider #Anduin Wrynn #Khadgar #Malfurion Stormrage #archmage modera #aethas sunreaver #Jaina Proudmoore #kalecgos #World of Warcraft #world of warcraft fanfic

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kaibutsushidousha · 6 years

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Artbook Data - Ryouma Hoshi

One game of the Jinguuji series was released in the West under the localized name Jake Hunter: Detective Story, but none of the cases on it were written by Kodaka.

Seiyuu’s comment: Akio Ootsuka

Ryouma Hoshi is a smart character with a cute appearance and who rocks a double-breasted rider jacket. His background is arguably grander than the other characters and he was very worth voicing. My first impression was “High schooler!? That’s just a cute little boy”, but despite his appearance, I think he has quite a lot of unique points about himself. Find out on your own where will fate lead him to.

Kodaka’s comment: Cute-hardboiled, the spice that worked

The keyword for Hoshi was “hardboiled but cute!”. But this “cute” guy is a ruffian, so Komatsuzaki tried numerous design until we arrived at the style we decided to go with. We imagined his first as the “Super High School Level Prisoner” before the “Super High School Level Tennis Player”, then we connected it to tennis because that’s a hardboiled sport, then we filled the script with Prince of Tennis memes... yeah, that’s the order in which we constructed him. The dark blue prison uniform was, again, Komatsuzaki’s idea and to add more hardboiledness to it, we matched it with a leather jacket. To top it off, we decided to add the knitted hat, resulting in the current design. Taking from this sequence of events, we named him after, surprise surprise, Kyojin no Hoshi and Prince of Tennis.

As for cutesy characters, we had Daisaku Bandai in DanganRonpa 3, we were thinking of making Hoshi less of a curveball than him, more straightforwardly “cute”. On the other hand, we want to have him in a direction where he would be well-liked by people who tipically like traditional hardboiled characters. On top of that, we want to add the DanganRonpa-style spice to it, leading to our “hardboiled x cute” motif. Hoshi looking like this and being voiced by Akio Ootsuka-san was something very well commented as soon as the characters were presented. I added a twist so he wouldn’t end up as nothing more than a novelty, but I think you all who played the game noticed it already.

His always hardboiled personality was based on Saburou Jinguuji from the “Detective Saburou Jinguuji” series. I handled some scripts on the same series, so you know him, do you?

Note: Kodaka wrote some cases in the mobile version of Detective Saburou Jinguuji (“Six Pieces of Crime” and other 5) and the spin-offs “Ghosts of Shinjuku” and “Brilliant FUTURE”.

Design Notes:

Beanie: The beanie with the very unique dual-horned design is an original item of the Kasumigaoka Institute, as you can tell from the school badge on it.

Rider Jacket: A leader suit that makes you look cool as soon as you put it on. It’s in a form-fitting just size, so no one can say he looks lame for wearing oversized clothes.

Chocolate Cigarette: Super popular among the children! A chocolate candy shaped like a cigarette kids use to pretend to be adults. How difficult it is to unpack it when you’re going to open it is part of the fun.

Underwear: Hoshi’s favorite briefs. He wears pure white underwear because of one national tennis tournament that had a rule that said “All players must wear all clothes white, including underwear”.

Legs: Legs trained to perform the miraculous footwork that supports Super High School Level tennis plays. He is nimble almost to the point of teleport, according to Gonta.

Anklet: A long time ago, prisoners had heavy stell balls shackled to their ankles to prevent them from escaping. Hoshi wears a mark of his crime in his right ankle, a reminder of those horrible customs.

Favorite Presents:

Mint Cigarettes: A cigarette-shaped lemon candy, popular among growing kids interested in acting like adults. For whenever he wants to take a break from the chocolate one.

Dogtag: A pair of soldier ID tags. If the owner dies in combat, the person on the second tag is reported to recover the body. Give it to Hoshi, as he is constantly face-to-face with death.

Hammock: A sleeping net you can use by tying it between to trees or pillars. A guaranteed moment of relaxation for the sentimental Hoshi, where he can enjoy an unordinary mood.

Hated Present:

Tennis Ball Set: A set of 4 hard tennis balls. This could come in handy in diets or massages but none of this matter anymore now for Hoshi, as he threw away tennis.

Key Phrases:

User of Shukuchi: Hoshi became a member of the Saishuu Academy as the Super High School Level Tennis Player. According to his fellow middle school tennis player Momota, he was actually considered a hero by the other tennis brats. He was already that famous at the time. His physical capabilities are something to look out for, specially with his Shukuchi technique. It’s a moviment technique that allows him to instantly close the distance between 2 points, almost like teleport. It’s one of the proofs he deserved his Super High School Level title. Dodging Gonta’s terrifyingly powerful invitation to the Insect Meet-and-Greet and escaping intact is an impressive feat. But what fate awaited Saihara, who was left behind...!?

The Cat-Loving Man: Some say cat lovers are loners and Hoshi is a clear evidence to that theory. He likes to act like a nihilist lone wolf who rarely shows emotions but he says he likes cats because “petting their fluffy heads makes you forget the rough stuff” and admitted to being a cat man after being tricked by Akamatsu’s loaded question. By the way, his favorites breeds are the longhaired ones (Persian, Himalaian, Ragdoll, Siberian, etc). The man likes his fluff. By the way, Hoshi had one cat he left with his friend before he went to prison and he refers to it as the last ties he still have with the outside world. Akamatsu tries to encourage him saying “Maybe you can regain your hope in life if you get a chance to get a new cat?”. If there were any Super High School Level Animal Breeder out there, he would certainly have such a great therapeutic effect in Hoshi’s life...!

Super High School Level Prisoner!?: He was called the Super High School Level Tennis Player after numerous feats, but became a death row convict. It all started when he blew a rigged game on an illegal tennis tournament, earning the mafia’s wrath. He lived tragedy for seeing the dark side of society. He met misfortune because his sense of justice couldn’t let this slide. The shackle on his ankles and the design of his lab prove he is the Super High School Level Prisoner and so does his constant saying the he gave everything up...

Chasing After the Shadow of his Dead Girlfriend: Hoshi says he mercilessly threw away even his girlfriend. The tragic truth behind it is that she was killed by the mafia’s retaliation. When he knew the guns were pointed at her, they had already ran away in different directions, so he could not protect her. The same happened to his beloved family. He says that even if he escapes, there’s no one he wants to see. I hope someone can save his lonely back.

Main Quotes:

“I would never do something this uncool”: This almost-nihilist’s motto is “be cool”. Monokuma’s favorite ill-tasted theatrics and causing a big rucks by falling for cheap threats are two example of things he considers uncool. He is acts quiet and dandy with the chocolate cigarette in his mouth and, maybe for that very reason, he is calmer than everyone.

“I just got some lucky cues“: It’s very common to see athletes having personal lucky pre-game rituals to seize victory. In Hoshi’s case, he would always enter the court with his right leg and it earned him a lot of games. It’s just a mental reinforcement technique, but it somehow worked when he adapted it to sitting on the casino stool with his right leg. Jackpot! Judging from his sidelong glance at Momota when he lost everything he had, maybe Hoshi is the real Super High School Level Gambler?!

Final Comment: Calm, always showing his back, with cold look in his eyes and feeling of resignation. No matter much he insist that’s what being cool is, everyone will still unite their voice to make him regain his hot-blooded hope!

#ryouma hoshi #artbook translations #mint candies are lemon flavored?#there's no hoshi interactions with tanaka in the board game and this sucks a lot #and his interactions with celes are not about gambling #the final comment hurts because no one actually did that

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marzipandox · 7 years

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The Witch of The Wilds has been harassing the town of Adlersbrunn for years, but it comes to a head when Fareeha finds herself trapped between a terrible circumstance; let herself fall into the hands of The Witch, or let The Witch destroy her town. But The Witch is not all that she seems either, and Fareeha may just find a horrific past and an ulterior motive under the sweet honey smiles of The Witch.

Oh snap, its a Pharmercy halloween fic!! I’m going to post the chapter under the cut as well, but it’d mean a lot if you read the original and its other chapters at the source!

Overhead, quiet as an owl, soared a woman of extraordinary intelligence. She was a fey individual, a terrible trickster who spent her free time ruining the lives of others in any way she saw fit. Her mouth watered and her eyes stretched wider as she stared into the darkness about her, like she could see through the fog and gloom into the very souls of every living thing that existed below her, all the way down to bugs and beyond. She couldn’t help but let out a delighted squeal, leaning harshly to one side to spin her about on her long, thin broom. With unearthly speed, she zipped above the thick forest below her towards a tall, crumbling castle high upon a cliff. Below her the forest cleared where a lake had formed, and seeing her own reflection below her almost spooked the Witch enough to crash, but she recovered from the shock of seeing her own shape and pulled on her broom to bring herself back up. She continued to make a beeline for the castle before her.

As she drew closer, she saw something that made her giddier than a child with a new toy: the castle was packed with people, lights shining in every window, and the trail leading up was packed with carriages and carts and groups of people, funneling further into the castle. This was going to be just wonderful! She thought with utter certainty. She slowed her travel, swinging around the back of the stone structure to see if there was some unguarded entrance she could sneak in through. She found a window with no lights in it: just an empty, abandoned room. She wrestled the glass pane in, slid it to the floor, and wiggled in after it, rolling away giggling. Getting up and dusting herself off, she kept the window open, in case she needed to make an escape.

"Oh, Reaper~!" She called into the darkened guest room. It made sense in her impish mind for her to take it; she was a guest, after all, and had one of her own on the way. The darkness grew and swelled, and before her stood the hunched form of what looked to be a headless horseman, minus a horse. He was tall and strongly-built, and filled the room with light from his well-carved replacement head. The collar to his coat went high along the sides of his head and cast strange shadows upon the wall when he looked about.

"Gabriel, darling," The Witch purred, clasping her hands and setting them against her cheek in a begging motion. "Will you be so kind as to guard me tonight?” She asked, syrup-sweet, though she knew full well that he could not refuse her. “I don’t want to be interrupted when I step outside to do a touch of work."

"Fine…" He grumbled softly, turning away from her towards the door, but left opening it to her, out of spite. The Witch saddled her hovering broom and pulled a thick book from her hip, flipping through it leisurely. The Reaper pulled two large shotguns from his coat and leaned against the door, grumbling with his impatience. The Witch sat up suddenly, pleased with what she’d found. Returning the book to her side, she yanked the door open and flew out with incredible speed, squealing giddily as she zipped down the corridor towards the festival halls, huge and bright and decorated. The Witch delighted as what was originally the cheer and chatter of partiers turned into screams of fear and surprise as they noticed her and the Reaper trailing after. She looked below her and saw their shocked faces. Being All Hallow's Eve, they were all dressed up, but not a single one had dared dress up as her. Good choice on their part, she thought. The Reaper had taken the form of unearthly black smoke which swirled and morphed as it slunk behind the speeding witch.

Wasting no time for fear of his escape, the Witch dove through the doorway of the throne room, coming to a screeching stop before the King, who stared up at her like a man caught stealing. The Witch found his surprise and fear absolutely adorable, and couldn’t help but lick her lips as she soaked it up. How she wished she could have it frozen and hung on her bedroom wall – but this was not the time to lament. No, she was much too busy. The guards that protected the King rushed to get him from the hall to a safer location, but the Reaper quickly took care of them, leaving bloody pools lifeless corpses where they once stood. The civilians still in the room raced out, fearing for their lives. Unprotected and outmatched, the King could do little more than sit there to see what the Witch wanted.

"Reinhardt~! Long time no see, darling!!" The Witch giggled like a schoolgirl as she stared at him, lying down on her broom before flipping over to hang upside down. The Reaper stood off to the side, his guns drawn threateningly.

"What do you want, witch?" The King growled, leaning forward in his chair.

"So rude! To think the only reason I would visit the great king was because I wanted something? I'm truly hurt, Wilhelm!" The Witch set her hands over her heart, pouting at him. She couldn’t keep her serious attitude for long, and couldn't help but laugh as she dropped to her feet.

"No, you're correct," she purred, sauntering up to the larger man. "All I want from you is my payment! It's All Hallow's Eve, dear King! And I was true to our pact – but you, you haven't even lifted a finger to fulfill your side. You owe me quite a lot of books! Books I know you can’t pull from behind your chair like I know you wish you could. How terrible would it be for your citizens to learn that you're this untrustworthy! That the whole reason they've been safe this past year has not, in fact, been because you're the strong leader they think you are? That it's because you made a pact with a terrible witch?!" She wailed dramatically, collapsing against the arm of his throne. She theatrically set a hand to her forehead, barely containing a giggle. "Oh no, we couldn’t have that, could we~?" She walked her fingers up his arm, fluttering her eyelashes at him, before she pulled herself back up and waltzed away to drape herself over the Reaper.

"And, as incredibly powerful as I am, my dear Reaper could very well go rogue, having been betrayed like this – he's tied in too, you know – and that'd just be terrible, wouldn’t it? So –" she stood before him again, arms crossed and feet set wide apart. "What shall you do, dear King?"

The King was visibly conflicted. Frankly, he had no clue what he could offer her; the Witch was a picky woman, and convincing her would not be done easily. "Will you take money? Land? What can I give you?" the King asked, cursing himself for showing his ignorance.

The Witch grinned wide as she realized what he’d said, eyes shining bright. She nearly drooled with the thought of the opportunity, rising high on her broom. "Oh, dear King, I don’t want money! No, I want something of true, usable value! Perhaps… a life or two~?"

She landed gracefully again, drawing close with her broom in hand. "Do you remember that one woman you hired? A certain… Alchemist? Yes, the Alchemist. How rude that old bat is! Did she tell you she shot me in the chest? Hurt terribly, too. The only reason she didn’t take me down was that you didn’t give the poor woman iron bullets! Your loss, too." She pouted once more, tracing a nasty little circular scar upon the skin above her heart. "Well, I learned she has a daughter – how wonderful for her, yes? So, all I want from you is her daughter. Bring me the Alchemist's daughter, alive, and all will be forgiven~."

"What!? That is an impossible demand!" He finally stood, stepping forward to intimidate The Witch but she didn’t move at all from her position.

"It's difficult yes, but I'm certain you can do it! Besides, if you don’t, it'll go poorly in your favor." She lowered her head, staring at him with hardening eyes.

"And if I don't?" The King challenged, crossing his arms as he stared The Witch down.

"Oh, but you will, King. Because if you won't, your knights and dear hailed heroes will not be able to protect you, for I have a weapon I have not yet unleashed upon you, one that no one could stop. So you will do this, or you will die." For the first time, her face went hard and cold, a deep, angry scowl on her face.

The King wanted to call her bluff, say she was lying, but he had experienced her enough in the past to know The Witch did not lie. “Lying is a sin, and I do not sin.” The Witch would say, as if her mere existence wasn’t a sin. With no other choice, The King agreed. "… Fine, Witch. But if I do this, you will not return to my castle under any circumstances, understood?" The King threatened as much as he could.

The Witch only sighed and nodded as her face went soft with her smile, knowing well that she had won. "I promise on my life, I will not return to your castle if you pay me this. But, that does not bar me from your town. Know that, dear King.

"Oh, and one last thing," she hopped back onto her broom, facing away from him to fly her way out of the hall. "I would like The Alchemist's daughter by the 13th. I will visit you that day for her, and if you do not have her, that night I will attack you. Understood? Wonderful. Goodbye King! And good luck!" And without waiting for his response, she took off laughing, knowing she had won this battle and prevented any in the future. The Reaper took off behind her once more as a cloud of smoke, and just like that, the two were gone into the night. This left the poor King to sit alone and ponder how he was to accomplish this terrible task he was forced to complete.

#pharmercy #pharah #mercy #halloween au #fanfiction #marzidocs #marzi yaps

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danithebookaholic-blog · 5 years

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NEW RELEASE!

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The Rule of Many (The Rule of One #2)

By Ashley Saunders

Published by: Skyscape Publication Date: May 7th 2019 Genres: Dystopian, Young Adult

Synopsis:

Born to a death sentence in a near-future America, rebellious sisters herald a revolution—if they can survive.

Twins Ava and Mira Goodwin defy the Rule of One simply by existing. The single-child law, ruthlessly enforced by Texas’s Governor Roth, has made the sisters famous fugitives and inspirations for the resurgent rebellion known as the Common.

But the relentless governor and his implacable Texas State Guard threaten that fragile hope, as Roth consolidates his power in a bid for ultimate authority.

As Ava and Mira relinquish the relative safety of their Canadian haven to stand against Roth, new allies arise: Owen, a gifted young programmer, impulsively abandons his comfortable life in a moment of compassion, while Zee, an abused labor camp escapee, finds new purpose in resistance.

The four will converge on Dallas for a reckoning with Roth, with nothing less than their destinies—and the promise of a future free from oppression—on the line.

Disobedience means death. But a life worth living demands rebellion.

Goodreads

Excerpt:

MIRA

Limos and luxury cars line the extensive circular driveway, stuffed with partygoers ready for the welcoming bash. Mrs. and Mr. Cross have already arrived with much fanfare from their son and his doting employees. I wonder if Ciro’s sisters are here.

I hear him get on the microphone, introducing his unwitting parents onto the stage of the overflowing banquet hall, the governor of Alberta and the mayor of Calgary looking on from the front row.

Everything’s falling nicely into place. If only the man of the hour would show.

I look at my watch: 7:30 p.m. He’s late. Ava’s knee bounces furiously, as if she can shake out her anxiety.

“He’ll come,” I say.

From our hideout in the corner of the foyer, shadowed and easily overlooked, we have the best seats in the house. A perfect vantage point to see and be unseen. Ava scans the budding festivities through the glass walls on our left. I keep my eyes on the glass windows straight ahead, seeing past the dazzling flares from the cars’ headlights, holding out for the first glimpse of the president.

A string quartet begins to play, and an electric energy pulsates through the hotel, enlivening the crowd around us with a giddy exhilaration, and I can’t help but feel it too. Eager, I spring to my feet. I pace up and down our tucked-away corner, checking the time, watching Emery from across the room, waiting on her signal.

“Do you hear that?” Ava asks. She stares up at the ceiling. I move beside her as we listen to the muffled roar of whirling blades slicing the air somewhere above the building.

“A helicopter,” Ava says.

“He’s here.”

We look to Emery, who stands near the entrance, her gaze locked skyward. Guests file past as she removes a headscarf from her pocket, drapes the silk over her distinctive curls, and pulls it into a tight knot at the back of her neck. She folds her right arm over her chest, our cue to move.

I feel, rather than see, Barend steal into place behind us, our long shadow, as we push to the end of the foyer. Pawel detaches himself from the crowd and crosses our path as he follows Emery out the front door. “Lots of luck,” he whispers earnestly. Like luck has anything to do with it. It’s all up to us.

Our target is the oversized clock that consumes the entire wall alongside the vacant concierge desk. Ava stops before the number six, and we slip behind a false door and stride side by side down an empty staff hallway. Three right turns, two left, a final door, and we’re outside.

There are no lights behind the hotel and no people. The night is chilly and moonless, but we find the footpath we were directed to take and make our silent way to the small grove of trees just twenty yards out.

Ten paces in, Ava and I turn from the path and weave through the evergreens until we spot the narrow clearing that is to be our stage. We position ourselves in its center, shoulder to shoulder, and wait. Somewhere to our right, concealed within the trees and darkness, Barend stands guard.

When told of the plan, Emery immediately authorized the private rendezvous. She knows pleading our case face-to-face with the president is the only way. Cameras and screens provide a barrier, Emery said. The media paints you solely as American rebels. Let him see how human you are. With Pawel at her side, Emery is to meet and escort the president here, while Ciro entertains his parents and guests, keeping them safely ignorant inside the banquet hall.

The minutes tick off, and Ava starts to shiver from either the cold or nerves. Or is that me shivering? Ava and I brought no weapons with us, to show good faith. No guns, no knives. Just us, with our naked conviction and hope.

This could be our last stop, a final end to the endless chase. A place to plan and plot and devise our crucial counterattack.

Ava nudges me with a sharp elbow. She points to the trees in front of us. Two distinct shapes emerge, a faint silhouette floating behind.

“Ready?” I whisper needlessly. Ava tightens her jaw, and I ball my hands into white-knuckled fists. I take a big gulp of air and exhale slowly. My breath comes out in swirling smoke, reminding me of a dragon. There’s a fire inside me, and suddenly I feel warm and calm. One look from Ava and I know she feels it too.

We’re ready.

The outlines become faces and bodies. Emery appears first, then President Moore, with Pawel a few steps behind. I stare at Moore, transfixed, my eyes glued to the man who can grant us refuge.

He stumbles forward, as if his own eyes have not yet adjusted to the dark. I search his every feature, looking for any hint of surprise, or shock, or understanding. But his face, though startlingly attractive in the starlight, is blank. Indifferent.

“President Moore,” Emery says, “this is Ava and Mira Goodwin.” He looks at us cross-eyed, his round eyes squinting as he takes us in. We all stand motionless, awaiting his response.

“You don’t look identical to me,” the president finally states, his thin voice magnified in the still night air. “One of you’s slightly taller, the other rounder.”

The leader of the free world opens with an insult. My first reaction is to defend my identicalness. Surprising, when all I’ve ever wanted is to be seen as different from Ava.

“Sir—” Ava and I speak at the same time.

The president laughs. “Ah, there it is.” The ground spins as he turns to leave. “This conversation will be moved to a different setting. Just the twins and me.”

Barend detaches from the shadows. Pawel and Emery enclose my sister and me. Ava grabs my arm, her grip tight enough to bruise.

“We do not agree to any change—” Emery starts, but Moore shouts over her.

“Security!”

Everything shatters, all plans and expectations smashed to pieces.

A gunshot rings out, then two more.

“Run!” Emery yells.

The last thing I see is Ava’s face, twisted in fear and fury.

Then something covers my eyes. My mouth.

I’m thrown over a bulky shoulder, the deafening sounds of a helicopter growing louder with every footfall. With every one of my muffled screams.

I’m shoved against something solid. I reach out, arms flailing, but there’s no one beside me. Ava.

I feel the chopper lift into the sky. Two spinning blades taking me higher and higher away from Common ground.

Purchase:

Amazon

Author Bio:

Hailing from the suburbs of Dallas, Texas, Ashley Saunders and Leslie Saunders are award-winning filmmakers and twin sisters who honed their love of storytelling at The University of Texas at Austin. While researching The Rule of One, they fell in love with America’s national parks, traveling the path of Ava and Mira. The sisters can currently be found with their Boston terriers in sunny Los Angeles, exploring hiking trails and drinking entirely too much yerba mate.

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

a Rafflecopter giveaway

From one bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

Have a book you’d like to suggest or one you’d like me to review? Please feel free to leave your comments down below.

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god-hunter · 6 years

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Astonishing X-Men #7-12

I know I already talked about Issue 7, barely... But as it’s part of this 2nd (and technically final) arc of Soule’s story, I had to include it in the photo set.

So this was the “A Man Called X” arc, which was very cleverly titled. But it was ridiculously convoluted, which kept me from reviewing it for months! Admittedly, it was way better on a 2nd read, so here goes:

Issue 7: X reintroduces himself to the X-Men in this issue. They had just defeated the Shadow King and rescued Charles Xavier, but it was at the expense of taking over Fantomex’s body. And Charles acted younger and hipper, now suddenly. He wants to be called X now. There’s something they don’t trust about him, and I don’t blame them.

I brought this up before, but in this issue X fixes Archangel. The first thing X does is stop Archangel dead in his tracks, who was in the midst of an air-battle with the Air Force, or whatever. Basically, he force-calms him down, so that Warren can still cognitively think and feel like himself, rather than being cold and death-driven. The Ministry of Defense is concerned about this sudden attack and subsequent ceasefire, and also that more chaos seems to be ensuing elsewhere in London.

This involves Bishop & Gambit, who are still under some sort of spell. Only it isn’t the ShadowKing this time. It’s something else, which X has yet to discover. Before Psylocke and the others let him help them though, she needs to see for herself what happened to Fantomex. So she dives in his head via telepathy, and finds that Fantomex volunteered to stay behind in the Astral Plane. He sacrificed his physical body in order to bring Xavier to the fore. [Which means that this can be reversed...]

Anyway, Bishop looks into this Green Sun that is looming over the people in his area and is controlling them. It’s a Future death incident called the Mindkiller Apocalypse, apparently, which is a huge cause for concern.

X tries to stop this green thing, whatever it is. But instead, all he did was set the green thing free. This being is called Proteus.

Issue 8 - So, we went from stopping ShadowKing, to somehow setting Proteus free in the aftermath. How those 2 connect, I don’t know, but I was still curious...

“The ShadowKing must have been using shards of Proteus’ soul to create a psychic feedback loop. It nearly ripped a hole between the Astral Plane and this World...” as X puts it. The London X-Men quickly get fed up with this, but Psylocke reels them in. “Can we just set everything else aside until we stop him?” [That’s fair.]

Bishop spots Proteus absolutely eating people’s souls for energy. He tries blasting him with his guns, but that only makes him more powerful too.

Old Man Logan claims that he knows how to kill Proteus. They have to use Metal, which he and Archangel have in spades.

Then... this issue takes a left turn. This is where I come out of it.

X and Psylocke get in Proteus’ head. Apparently they’re in Scotland, where the human form of him is really Kevin MacTaggert? Moira’s brother???

He brings up their past history, which I’d rather not get into. He does a lot of self-victimizing for his past crimes, and says that after years in the Astral Plane he’d like a 2nd chance. Something X should understand big time.

At the end of this issue, X attempts to kill Kevin with psychic guns(?) and Proteus retaliates. He X & Psylocke together, leaving the rest of the X-Men confused and worries as fuck on the outside. They’re literally melting into each other, which is quite horrific.

Issue 9 - I didn’t know what the Hell was going on, but Soule still had my curiosity.

We come to find that this was some sort of mind-meld or something. Archangel & Logan immediately use their metal to strike/guard them. Warren protects Psylocke which is touching, because they were once an item. And Logan decides to stab X in the shoulder, because Fantomex had healing powers. Same body, same powers, he figures. But no, that’s not the case.

He couldn’t heal and writhed in pain until Psylocke put him to sleep.

They imediately brought him to the Blackbird to recover, while Proteus shifted over to Scotland to... reclaim his Kingdom, as it were.

He literally invades a bar, where some random civilians are chilling, and.. ‘gives them what they want.’ One civilian was flirting with someone’s fiance big time, and by Proteus doing this, now he caused the person to just savagely kill his best friend. I already skipped a lot of stuff though.

First, Proteus makes this community. He literally builds a spherical wall, and convinces these people that he is their leader, and everyone gets what they want. Having mind powers, presumably, this is not hard.

So bam. The chaos ensues in this community, and some people are transformed into soldiers

“NO!” X snaps awake, while the Blackbird Jet flies over to Scotland. {And then I gave away the ending already. Jealous boy wanted his friend gone, so boom. He blew up.} This can only mean worse in the bigger picture. Some sort of all out war, in this community, which may spread to the rest of the World.

Issue 10 - On their way to Scotland, they tell X that they voted that Psylocke is in charge of this gang. “Nothing personal. We just don’t trust you. At all.” Thanks Mystique. He utters something about wanting to drop an atomic bomb on the place, which is super OOC for Xavier. They remind him that that’s exactly why he is not leading and then say that they’re the X-Men. They Save people.

“You’re assuming there’s anyone left to save,” X says with a dark spin on life.

This is where it gets whacky. We see all sorts of dragons and soldiers attack the Blackbird jet, while other civilians are having orgies, or exhibiting other such chaotic behavior.

Yet again, the Blackbird crashes, but our X-Men are fine, because telepathic device.

Then the real fight goes down. It’s quick and rushed, to get to the point, which I like. Crazy layout of panels across 2 pages, or our guys fighting random people and creatures. [I doubt this is what they wanted, and more of what Proteus wanted.]

Suddenly the people stop fighting, and the ground seems to sprout up to capture some of our team. The Shadow King’s face can even be seen within the ground as Proteus talks to them.

“The Shadow King wanted a Hellscape... so that’s what the Astral Plane was. But I think there’s another way. That’s why I did my little experiment here... If you create a World using only one mind’s ideas, you get something twisted, stunted. But if you use many minds...you get a Garden.”

Logan is pissed because he believes he killed them 100%. Proteus explains that he gave them what they wanted. They’re just different now. Then he shifts the conversation over to Xavier’s dream. “Do you still believe in that dream?”

“I do,” X proclaims. He also says that none of them would have chosen this, if they knew it would turn out this way.

Proteus then says it’s time to let his garden grow. On the last page, the spherical walls are broken down, and I guess this reality is lopping itself onto the rest of Scotland.

Issue 11 - The Garden quickly spreads into Edinburgh, Copenhagen, Philadelphia, Dublin, Cairo... Tokyo!!

[Whenever things get Worldly like this, I can’t help but wonder, where are the Gold & Blue teams in on this, then??] Or anyone else for that manner??

Proteus is at the point where he feels he’s won. But Logan and Archangel go after him with their metal. While Psylocke and X try to attack him from inside his head.

There’s a lot of slashing and beam throwing. It’s cool to watch, but where’s the substance or the stakes, here??

X & Psylocke use their brain waves to calm down the people in Japan. Or ‘stop the seed’ as they call it... [Seed of Proteus’ ever-growing Garden, I presume.]

Inside Proteus’ head, Moira appears to comfort him, but he’s not buying into the illusion. At least, not at first.

They pull a fast one on Proteus and X gets cocky. He says that with this kind of power, they could do anything, with a sinister grin.

The fight on the outside gets somewhat exciting with Gambit & Rogue involved. Bishop jumps in to try to convert his energy as well. I like the semblance of teamwork, happening here. Proteus shrieks, “Why? Why? Why won’t you ever let me live?”

Then at the end of this issue, X, drunk with power cracks open his skin to reveal that he is really the Shadow King, after all. [THAT explains those black and white dialogue boxes!]

Issue 12 - This was Soule’s big bad conclusion, and I couldn’t care less by this point. It was morbid curiosity by this point and a quest for all things to end, which was why I got it at all. The artistry was way better on this, from Gerardo Sandoval, though.

So despite killing the Shadow King on the Astral Plane, Mystique confirms to Rogue that none of that is real. He he is, living, breathing before them in the Real World and it’s a double splash page of the whole bunch ganging up on him.

Then we see something crazy. Shadow King got to Old Man Logan and made him kill himself. I recall reading that and being super-shocked, thinking that it could actually be permanent. Everyone else dealt with their own shit as well, and as X narrates “Only Psylocke still stands.”

Psylocke fights him in panels, while we see Bishop feeling guilty that he let the Mindkiller Apocalypse happen. Gambit apparently tries to kill himself with his cards.

Rogue and Mystique apparently have a fatal embrace with her glove off. Archangel feels shame, and I think flies himself into space, where he can’t breathe, then lets himself fall to the ground.

But then, we eventually see Xavier put himself back together. He’s wearing a new outfit now, but still looks young and buff. He uses his mind powers to help Psylocke defeat the Shadow King.

We get to see more X-Men than just the Astonishing Team, which is neat. (It’s a bunch of heads in the background, making me believe that it’s a psychic thing.) Betsy asks, “What is this?” and he says, “All of us. Together.”

As if he mentally siphoned the power of every living Mutant, to mentally help them against the Shadow King, I guess.

And it’s their bravery, which seems to shrink the Shadow King into a little bug, which X flicks away.

Betsy asks if he’s Xavier now. He affirms that he’s still X, but whatever shadow was in him is gone now.

By the end of this, none of them still trust him, and he just tells them, “I said I had gifts for all of you... and so I do.”

[This was kind of interesting.]

He gives Warren choice, so I guess he can go back to Angel, Archangel or just Warren. Whatever he wants whenever he needs... He gives Remy purpose and tells him to find Fantomex and pay him back whatever he owes him. He gives Mystique & Rogue understanding. This one, I don’t care to understand.

He gives Bishop permission to enjoy the world, and not always worry about the future. He gives Logan vision, to see that he is walking towards the light from his dark past.

And then, the most fucked up, but also brilliant thing is him giving them all Oblivion. “Forget.”

He tells them. Then he mind-wipes all of them! Except for Betsy. She gets to remember.

“For now, you’ll be the only one who knows I’ve returned. You’ll watch me. Keep me honest.”

After they exchange threats, she asks him what their Psychic be-all-end-all was. She suggests that maybe he could find the stronger empaths, and bring them to the school.

He tells her, nah, though. “Why would I go back to the School? I’m sure Kitty Pryde has things well in hand. The school was Professor Charles Xavier’s place. His dream... There is nothing for me there.” He smirks as the sun sets in the background.

“I am not Xavier. I am X... I have a new dream.”

-The End-

Jeeeez. Cool that he’s back, but man oh man. Where was Soule going with this. He just planted this giant seed, in hopes that someone else could pick this up and run with it???

I’m not sure if Astonishing got cancelled, or if it was always meant to be a 12-part mini-series. But either way, Soule’s story was done by this point.

And I was NOT interested in getting Issue 13, with a new writer coming on board. But I accidentally got it in my pile anyway. And it was waaaay fucking better than any of this.

All things considered... I like that Charles is back. Even if he's younger and different... and, in the background.. and none of this really matters, ‘cause it’ll get reset anyway.

In the meantime, it’s still interesting. And I guess that’s why I collected this in the first place. Because it seemed interesting. So that’s that.

#Astonishing X-Men #Charles Soule #Issue 7-12 #A Man Called X #Mindkiller #Marvel #meh

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