#Ladder has to prove to people (not Stone) that she deserves to be seen as their equal so she purposefully goes head to toe head with Stone

[the-whispers-of-death]

boy oh boy i have Stone on the brain you have no idea what your ocs do to me

I think I do know, considering I'm obsessed with them.

They all have their own charms. Sarabi and Stone are both traumatized & their birth families want nothing to do with either of them, Kali seems like he's only a joker but he actually is his parents' parent (does anyone really believe that his parents are hard-workers if they just let their son who already has a full-time job in the Corps also be responsible for the ranch they started?), Nala is just Dad™, Simba is lovable goofball Dad, and Ladder is just a tech goddess who drinks too much coffee and likes to piss off people who are bigger and taller than her (Stone).

#tyler's asks #tyler's inbox #Tyler answers asks #asks #call of duty ocs #cod ocs #just love them #I could go on and on about how Kali thinks his parents are the best but they're really not #Nala is more nuanced than just being a father and husband but it's what he focuses on and what he takes pride on #Simba is more of a serious dad than he lets anyone see but he strives to be the dad Ashton can feel comfortable enough to share things with #Ladder has to prove to people (not Stone) that she deserves to be seen as their equal so she purposefully goes head to toe head with Stone #Stone is highly respected for his prowess and she knows Stone won't go easy on her just because she's a woman so any spar she earns her win #:)

[schrijverr]

I Wrote My Own Deliverance

Chapter 8 out of 10

Alexander Hamilton is reborn as Alex Hambleton. He is desperate not to make the same mistakes twice, but it seems he is stuck in the narrative, unable to get out. Familiar faces pop up all around him as he attempts to keep his previous life a secret and write himself out of the story.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: guilt, mentions all te deaths in Alex’s past and blackmail. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Washburn Pamphlet

by A. Ham

This pamphlet is written by Alex Hambleton to deny all rumors surrounding a sexual relationship with Professor George Washburn, Columbia University.

As much as I had vowed to myself not to end up here, I find myself once more having to publicly air my secrets to save myself. This might be news for people surrounding me, for I don’t go about telling everyone about my scandals of lives passed, it seems I have learned after all.

It is quite ironic that I am here once more for the sole reason of doing everything in my power not to be here.

And I could say that I am not.

Maybe I can claim that it is different, because I am denying the rumors and I am not in the wrong this time around. It is not even selfish motifs that caused me to reach for a quill, or, in this case, a keyboard.

But enough dancing around the topic.

I was aware that some people had thoughts and opinions about how I have gotten to where I am, but no one has had to audacity to come up and say them to my face with blackmail as motivation. Lets say I was quite surprised when James Richardson (no I will not be shying away from names) came up to me.

He told me that, unless I got Professor Washburn to pay him 20.000 dollars, the whole school would know how I fucked myself up the ladder by diving into bed with him each Sunday.

Seeing this was the first time I heard I was fucking him (Washburn had not been so kind to inform me, strangely enough), I was quite surprised. Although I have to admit that I cannot deny that I have been visiting the Washburn household each and every Sunday since the summer break, even going as far as to drive over to their summer home in Virginia.

Guilty as charged on that front.

Yes, I am confirming that this is true and I can understand how this feels more like a confession of guilt than the denial it is.

For you have to understand that you think in a too small time frame and in the wrong names. I have already said that I will not shy away from names in this pamphlet, so here I will drop the name of the person I have actually been seeing. I have been seeing George Washington, my General and President under whom I have served for many years back when I was known as Alexander Hamilton.

The time frame is not between the summer break and now, it is over two centuries ago when a great man saw my potential and helped me live up to it.

I am willing to go through the registration process to prove Professor Washington innocence, as well as my own, in the matter. I am also willing to do whatever is necessary to prove that I earned my spot in the accelerated track.

But this is the truth I can offer right now and I hope you will believe me on my word alone.

God knows I am aware that this sounds preposterous and outrageous, for why come out and tell you all now that I am a Founding Father when I could have done so without allegations that needed a story to be disproven?

Well, as everyone knows denying a rumor is the same as confirming it. And the truth is that I do not want to be Alexander Hamilton.

And why would I?

Why would I want to be that man. For all the musical tries to paint me as a hero, or misunderstood, I am so very aware that I did not deserve Elizas forgiveness. I know I threw away my shot the moment I didn’t say no (forgive the reference).

However, it is not just that. I do not want to be the man that did not come to his friends aid in France, I do not want to be the man that cared more about himself than his wife and the abused woman he took advantage off.

Alex Hambleton left Alexander Hamilton behind at birth.

I took this life, my second chance, to be better. I do not wish to walk the same paths and bring down those around me in my misery and mistakes.

Yet here I am.

I took the liberty of finding comfort in the one person who I knew would not share my secret, whom I’d be safe with as I always have been. The home where I could be the entirety of me, a combination of the Founding Father I used to be and the loudmouth student I am now.

And now it is not just me who has to pay the price when people don’t believe me. I tried so hard to write myself out of this story, to not make the same mistakes, but it seems that for all my trying I cannot stop being a death sentence for those around me.

My father still left, my mother held me again while she died, the moment I remembered who I was, was the moment I found my cousin dead. I did not want to believe that this would always be my life until the hurricane hit.

But there it was and it swept my hometown away with the waves and wind. My story is as set in stone and I, for all I claim to be an unstoppable force, cannot seem to move it.

Have you ever smelled death?

Have you ever looked around and seen bodies floating in the water and known that it was your fault?

It was my story that history forces to repeat, my story that caused the deaths of all those people and it is my story that forces a scandal into being and it is my inability to keep me from defending myself that makes me end up here.

Overwhelm them with honesty.

That is what my musical counterpart said and that is the footsteps in which I am walking once again. Though I hope that the small changes I have managed to make, will ensure that the results of my deeds will end up differently.

For those who knew me, I am sorry for the deceit. I hoped by not interacting, I would not pull you down with me once more. I do not wish my misfortune on you again.

But it is not for me that I seek your pity.

I am once more, begging strangers for kindness and understanding of my story. I hope you grant me this mercy and believe me, so that the one person who has always believed in me, no matter how much I did not, can keep his livelihood.

Let his story of success remain unchanged. Let him live his life in peace, knowing he did well and do not exile him in shame for crimes he did not commit.

Believe me not for my sake, but for his.

I could tell you stories of my past life in an attempt to prove myself to you. I could tell you about letters I wrote, words I said, people I loved and lost. I could tell you facts about myself that you can not verify, because I was the only person there to witness them.

But that will not do me any good.

So I write.

I write in the hope that you can find pity and understanding for the bastard, orphan, son of a whore that clung to the only rock, before the eye of hurricane had passed and he was swept up by forces of nature out of his control.

It is the only thing I can do.

I am not religious, yet here I am, praying on two knees to a God that has never listened to me, in the hope I have done enough to change the story I am stuck in.

However, I know my prayers have never been answered with anything but indifference.

Will my prayers be answered this time?

I do not count on it.

So, I will not ask you to pray for me. I will not allow myself to become a victim to lies and slander after I have worked so hard to be better than that person who was. I will not be threatened and blackmailed when I learned from my mistakes and I did not repeat that part.

Instead I ask you to pray for Washington as I am doing.

I ask you to pray for the kind soul that saw my potential and made sure that I could take one step closer to the future I wanted to achieve.

To pray for the man, who gave me shelter over the summer so that I would not be homeless. Pray for the man who gives me dinner one day of the week to ensure I do not starve. Pray for the man who let me read his recommendation letter an unnatural amount of times, so that I could ensure he only helped me based off the things I had achieved not his history with me, because he knew how important it is to me that I make my own spot in the world.

And I pray for his wife, Martha, whom I call Mama M, always have. Mama M, who has been there with open arms and soft words to fill a void that hadn’t been filled in this life or the last, since I was twelve.

I no longer care for your perception of me. You can keep your thoughts to yourself and I can move unaffected by hateful words that have followed me both lifetimes. I am used to it and I do not care about your words.

However, I do care for the two people who cared about me when no one else did. When no one else knew to care.

My shoes have always been worn out from the running I have to do to keep up. I work because I know I am too much of a minority to make it anywhere in the world if I don’t work thrice as hard as my peers.

Immigrant, Latino, bisexual, polyamorous, orphan, bastard.

These words have haunted me until I turned them into badges of honor and the only reason that is, is because I had a home to rest. A place to take of my shoes and get ready to face another day.

That place was the Washingtons home.

So, think of me what you want. Think me a liar who did not earn his place in the world, tell your friends how annoying I am and how you wish I had not made it through my hardships. I do not care for your opinion of me.

But keep them out of it, they do not deserve the slander of my presence for crimes they did not commit and rumors that are not true.

Be the change that prevents the tragedy of a history repeated.

.

Your obedient servant,

.

A. Ham

#RR writing #hamilton the musical #Hamitlon AU #hamilton #alexander hamilton #george washington #martha washington #james reynolds #tw: blackmail #tw: guilt #tw: death mention #tw: suicide mention

[himbowelsh]

Prompt for Philly crew: Some fuckboy (or girl) messed with Julian's heart. Jules is miserable. Whole gang us ready to bite. They plan series of revenges for that person. They make Julian do it all with them for closure. He ends up having the best time.

AN: look, i’ve been cheated on before, and it hurts like hell. i’m just gonna say i don’t condone what happens in this story, and revenge isn’t the answer… but damn if it’s not satisfying.

Babe is pretty sure Julian is dead.Okay, that could be an exaggeration. Maybe. He’s not willing to say anything for sure, especially since the last time he was convinced someone had died ended with him breaking the bathroom door down only to find Bill and Fran in the shower, decidedly alive and not happy to be interrupted. The only one who almost died that day was Babe, and he learned a valuable lesson about not jumping to conclusions.

He doesn’t think he’s overreacting now, though. In fact, he’s sure he isn’t. The loud screams echoing from Julian’s room just minutes ago were very hard to mistake, and he’s not sure the silence that’s followed bodes any better.It had sounded like Julian was being mauled by an ape. A very hungry, very aggressive ape who hasn’t been let out of his cage in years and just saw Julian steal his last banana. Then, just as abruptly as it pierced the house, the noise died. Babe isn’t  sure whether this is a good thing or a terrible thing.Julian’s not a quiet person. When he’s quiet, he’s usually up to something; and when he’s dead silent like this, it means something is wrong.Babe lingers outside the door, not sure what his plan of attack should be. Should he knock on the door? Should he call out to him? Should he try to scale the building and climb in through the window?He doesn’t have to make the choice. Quick as a hurricane, something barrels past him, almost knocking him off his feet.“Julian!” hollers Bill, pounding his fists against the door. “Frannie told me what happened, now open up!”“What?” Babe demands, pushing himself away from the wall he was just shoved into. “What the hell happened?”Bill just gives him a Look, one of those Looks that suggest he should really keep his voice down before someone (most likely Bill) is forced to punch him. Babe scowls and slinks forward, crossing his arms as he nods his head towards the doorway. Whatever happened, he deserves to know – Julian is his best friend too.“It was Melissa,” is all Bill says. Babe feels his heart sink.“Oh no.”“Oh yeah. Turns out that guy she’s been going out with ain’t her cousin after all.”Babe curses, slamming his fist in his palm. He owes Spina fifteen dollars now, and that bastard always makes sure to collect. “Damn, okay. So that’s why he’s holed up in here.”Bill hammers his fist against he door again, and Babe joins him a second later: “Jules. Come on, kid, open up for us!”A few minutes pass, full of beseeching – and more than a few veiled threats – to open up. They don’t work, not that Babe really expected them to. When Julian commits to something, he’s stubborn as a slab of concrete. Nothing’s getting him out of that room short of picking him up and dragging him out.Bill heaves a sigh. “Alright,” he mutters. “That’s how we’re gonna fuckin’ do this.” Babe watches in bemusement as Bill makes his way back to the stairwell. He hammers on the wall three times before shouting down, “Frannie! Get the ladder!”“You – wait, wait, wait –” Babe has seen Bill go up ladders before. Watching a guy with one leg scale a building was one of the most terrifying experiences of his life. He’s not going to stop him, but he has to strongly advise against it. “Bill, do you really think that’s a good –”“I’m not doing it.” Bill rolls his eyes, looking like he’d like to take a swipe at him again. Babe wisely keeps his distance. “What the hell do we keep Spina around for?”Just then they hear a resounding crash from the backyard, followed by a short scream of pain. Babe and Bill exchange wide-eyed glances in the silence that follows.“Well,” Babe says after a moment, “I hope it’s not to be actually useful.”Bill spits out a curse and starts down the stairs. Babe almost thinks that’s the end of it before Bill’s head reappears over the top of the railing. His eyes gleam in a sadistic sort of delight. “Heffron, get your sneakers on.”Babe mutters something dark under his breath and aims a kick at Julian’s door, just for good measure.

Babe winds up having to climb through Julian’s window. This isn’t a surprise to anyone, since they’ve done it before. He’s just relieved that the ladder doesn’t collapse out from under him and send him to the grass in an echo of Spina’s earlier misfortune. He’s sure he’d look a lot more pathetic with a broken leg than he does the ladder under threat of Bill’s fierce glare.By the time they get Julian’s bedroom door unlocked and everyone has piled into Julian’s room, it’s obvious that they all mean business. Fran has her game face on; Spina is carrying around a small notebook, brainstorming revenge in its margins; and Bill won’t stop prodding Julian for more information.He’s… not having much luck.Curled up tightly in his cocoon, the steady rise and fall of the blanket lump is the only sign that Julian is still alive. He won’t poke his head out to face any of them; he definitely isn’t participating.(And look, Babe knows how important it can be to give people space after something awful happens. That’s a principle that applies to most people – just not to Julian. When Julian is upset, he cuts himself off, clamming up and refusing to let anyone close. He needs people to be pushy when it comes to making him feel better, because he won’t seek them out on his own – and he also can’t snap himself out of his own funk.)“I think what we’ve gotta do is obvious,” Fran declares (after Bill’s latest effort to revive Julian is met with resounding failure). The gleam in her eyes tells Babe all he needs to know.“We need to get back at her,” he agrees. “How?”“Publicize it,” Spina suggests, waving his pen like a sword. “Publicly humiliate her.”Fran shakes her head. “That ain’t gonna work.”“Well, what then?”A smirk twists up her red lips; her gaze locks on the lump of blankets that at some point in time used to be Julian. Babe knows how Frannie’s brain works, and he knows that smile can herald nothing good.“I was thinking a little field trip. Get Jules outta the house. Cheer him up a bit.”“Nothing like some physical activity to whip you back into shape again.” Bill claps Julian on the back, who lets out a long groan. Sympathetic as Babe is, he can’t hold back a snicker, and gets a kick to the stomach for his effort.“Oww! Dammit, Jules!”Frannie and Bill ignore him, to Babe’s great surprise. “That settles it,” Fran declares, nodding her head. “I know exactly where we’ve got to go. Julian, put on some pants. We’re going out!”Julian lets out an incoherent murmur and burrows deeper into the blankets. Somehow, Babe restrains an exasperated sign.Getting Julian out of his room is going to be an even bigger challenge than getting himself in.

“This seems immature,” Spina mutters. Bill promptly shoves a carton of eggs in his lap, a wordless demand to shut up and act as arsenal. They’re all in this together; no one backs out now. If they’re getting arrested, they’re going down together.

Fran is driving; Bill is arguing with Siri while trying to navigate the way to Melissa’s house. Babe is in the back with Spina, Julian sandwiched between the both of them. Babe’s job is to act as Julian control – keep him awake, keep him alive, and keep him from running at the first opportunity.

It’s obvious that Julian would rather be anywhere but here (preferably, locked up in his room with Netflix and six pints of cherry chocolate chip). Having been dragged out by his friends, he’s going grudgingly. The sweatshirt he wears seems to drown him, and his hood conceals most of his face. He looks like a very disgruntled grim reaper. It’s pathetic.

Babe elbows Julian in the ribs, hoping to get him to perk up or show some sign of life. Julian just grunts, curling in on himself more. His message is clear – he doesn’t want to be bothered.

Babe sighs and crosses his arms, turning his attention out the window. He watches the pretty suburban homes speed by, one after the other, and winces at being caught in such a fancy neighborhood. The sooner they can get this over with, the better.

“We’re here,” Bill finally announces, and they pull to a stop in front of a familiar large house.

They’re anything but subtle. They pile everyone out of the car, square up in front of the gleaming convertible, and place the egg in Julian’s palm like it’s a medal. Let he who was wronged throw the first stone, Babe thinks, and wonders if he learned that in Sunday School. He’s pretty sure he got it wrong. The nuns would slap him if they could.

“Normal people drink,” Julian mutters. “Can’t we just do that?”

“That’s breaking the law more than this is, jalbait,” Bill retorts, and claps Julian on the back. When someone else is providing the alcohol Bill never has a problem with letting his younger friends drink. It’s only when he’s got a point to prove that it suddenly becomes immoral.

Babe reaches out and squeezes Julian’s shoulder. His friend tenses up; then, after a few seconds, gives a great exhale.

“She said her cousin bought her this car,” he mutters, and hurls the egg.

A round of cheers goes up from the assembled group as egg splatters against the shiny paint job. Julian reaches for another egg, and Babe swears he catches a flash of a grin from Julian just before he turns away.

Their last revenge had been mature, illegal, and damn satisfying. This is just business.

“Are we on a date?” Spina asks, crinkling his nose. Babe shrugs. He reaches a hand over to his left, only to be rebuffed when Julian swats him away. Babe knows the kid is grieving, but letting him hog the popcorn seems like a bit much.

“You haven’t stopped eating since she broke up with you,” he hisses, leaning close to be heard over the roar of the film’s coming attractions. “You weigh less than all the stuff you’ve ate this week!”

“I’m eating away my pain,” Julian mutters, and shoves another handful of popcorn in his mouth. The resulting crunch is loud enough to make Spina wince.

Two rows in front of them, Bill and Fran are already at work. They’re doing what they do best, being public nuisances. Just one row ahead of them, it’s clear that they’re doing their job well. The couple in front of them keep squirming in their seats, casting dirty looks over their shoulders. Bill and Fran are too busy to notice.

Babe never fails to be horrified, as well as a little fascinated, by how Bill and Fran can make it look like they’re chewing each other’s faces off. Kissing shouldn’t be like that. Kissing shouldn’t make onlookers fear for their lives. And yet…

He can’t take it anymore. He twists around Julian just enough to grab a handful of popcorn, and hurls it forward. It doesn’t just bounce off Bill and Fran; some of it gets caught in the hair of the people sitting in front of them.

“What the hell?” Bill booms. Babe rolls his eyes and reaches for some more popcorn.

“Detach your faces and watch the movie, assholes!”

“Are you seriously sayin’ that to me?”

“Yeah, I am,” Babe replies, and hurls another handful of popcorn. Simultaneously, his elbows dig into Spina and Julian’s sides. It’s all the nudge his friends need to spur them into action.

“Cut it out,” Spina chimes in, tossing a handful of gummy bears at them. Julian doesn’t say a word; but when he throws his popcorn, it’s obvious he’s not aiming for Bill and Fran.

Melissa lets out a yelp as a piece of popcorn hits her right between the eyes. Her infamous cousin tries to shelter her, but there’s no point. Behind them, Bill and Fran are incensed.

“Okay, assholes, you wanna go? Really?” Fran demands, and the two of them spring to their feet – dumping the contents of their laps into the row in front of them.

A fountain of coke and popcorn rains down upon the happy couple’s heads. Melissa lets out a shriek. Her cousin dives straight for the floor. The theater erupts into chaos.

The group of troublemakers take flight before the dust can settle. They flee the movie, the building, and are all the way down the street before any of the hapless theatre workers know what’s happened. The sound of Julian’s laughter bubbling out along with the pulse of their feet against the pavement is an even sweeter sound than Melissa’s infuriated shrieks.

“Do you feel better now?” Babe asks Julian later that night. Clustered around a stack of pizza boxes, two cartons of beer between them, the group is busy reveling in a good day’s work. Even Julian has broken out of his shell just for the occasion. It’s the first time in a week he’s eaten with them, or been out of his room for long, and everyone is glad to have him back.

“Yeah,” Julian admits, chuckling slightly. “I guess I do.”

“We’re all immature,” Ralph observes, taking a sip of his beer. “And kind of bad people.”

That’s a statement they can all toast to.

When Bill ruffles his hair and a new light appears in Julian’s eyes, however, Babe can’t help wondering if they’re really so bad after all. Revenge isn’t nice, to be sure, but it’s definitely sweet. If one thing can be said for Babe and his friends, it’s that they’ll go to bat for each other; if someone hurts one of them, they hurt all of them.

Julian’s back in one piece, and Babe couldn’t be happier about it.

#Anonymous #the philly squad #john julian #wow a julian-centric fic look at that #they do exist #my writing #how legal is any of this? dubious

[injusticetwofanportfolios]

Toriel’s Portfolio part 3

Toriel’s portfolio part 3

Round Victory animation: Toriel outstretches her arms to the sides and summons a ring of fire that surrounds her. The ring of fire dissipates when she finishes her line.

Round victory lines:

General

“Why is retreating too much for you?”

“I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

“No amount of pride is worth this violence.”

“I’ll bake some pie if it cheers you up.”

Vs. Batman

“Even you can’t always win, Dark Knight.”

“Know that I still respect you, Batman.”

Vs. Black Canary

“I hope I didn’t make your burn scars worse.”

“My deepest apologies, Dinah.”

Vs. Superman

“Humans deserve better than you, Superman!”

“When will you learn your foolishness?”

“Accept the Regime is over!”

“Kara will never be like you, I’ll make sure of it!”

Vs. Supergirl

“I hope you know that power isn’t enough.”

Vs. Wonder Woman

“All of Hippolyta’s teachings, wasted.”

“The Amazons were right to strip you of your throne.”

Vs. Cyborg

“Do you see now what supporting a tyrant has gotten you, Victor?”

“I’m frankly surprised you still have a soul.”

Vs. Robin

“With you, I’m not above corporal punishment.”

“You’ll go back to following Batman’s lead, and like it!”

“Give up or I’ll melt your equipment!”

Vs. Gorilla Grodd

“Even Asgore at his worse is a better king than you.”

“Perhaps us monsters should seize Gorilla City from you.”

“Even Flowey thinks you’re repulsive, Grodd!”

Vs. Brainiac

“Your intellect has failed you, Brainiac!”

“Even your technology can’t protect your soul!”

“The universe won’t have to fear you any longer.”

Vs. Poison Ivy or Vs. Joker

“I don’t know what Harley ever saw in you.”

Vs. Catwoman

“You should find a new hobby that doesn’t involve theft.”

“I’ll never get why you can’t just pick a side and stick with it.”

“I’ll be taking back what you stole, Catwoman.”

Vs. Atrocitus

“I think I’d look better in violet.”

“I’ve seen what blind rage can do to people.”

Vs. Any Regime Members (except Supergirl)

“I have no tolerance for unrepentant murderers.”

“I’m half-tempted to burn the regret into you.”

“Your Regime is little more than an oxymoron.”

Vs. Any Regime Members (except Supergirl and Black Adam)

“I’ll only stop when you return to your more merciful ways.”

Character Trait:

“Delta Soul Burn”: Toriel engulfs her entire body with hot pink fire. Her attacks do weaker damage but bypass guard and ignores any of her opponents’ defensive character traits.

Super Move:

“Delta Inferno”: Toriel starts the attack by punching her opponent with a flaming fist, which knocks them off their feet. Toriel then raises her arms to summon a pillar of fire that launches her opponent into the air. Toriel then uses her fire magic to launch herself into the air up to her opponent before blasting them with a downward diagonal spiraling stream of fire.

Victory Animation: Toriel surrounds herself in a ring of fire, then starts charging up a spell between her hands before blasting the spell upward.

Ladder Mode Ending:

(Camera shows image of Toriel in Brainiac’s ship, confronting Superman with Batman and an unconscious Brainiac behind her.)

“Although I defeated Brainiac, I knew I couldn’t relax yet. Far as I was concerned, Earth wasn’t safe yet while Superman and his Regime were still at large. He tried to argue that killing Brainiac and letting him bond with Brainiac’s ship was the best way to restore the collecting cities, but I knew letting Superman bond with the ship would just help him restore the Regime, not to mention that we still didn’t know how exactly the cities could be restored. Batman and I tried to argue looking for a safer method, but Superman clearly had no interest in being reasoned with.”

(Camera cuts to an image of Toriel standing in front of a weakened and kneeling Superman.)

“Superman quickly turned our debate into an intense battle. I was quick to aid Batman in fighting him and his fellow Regimers off. Though Superman was powerful, his vulnerability to magic caused him to fall first. The Kryptonian, through a mix of desperation and stubborn gall, tried to convince me that if I wanted both humans and monsters to be safe, that only the Regime would make it possible. I made it blatantly clear that I didn’t believe him and even pointed out not only the hypocrisies the revealed folly in his tyrannical ways, but brought up that Frisk already created the peace humans and monsters wanted without bloodshed. Yet Superman proved too stuck in his ways to accept he was wrong. So I had no choice of but simply incapacitate him and move on to help stop his followers.”

(Camera cuts to Toriel and Frisk sitting on chairs in front of two high-tech prison cells, one containing Damian while the other contained Victor Stone.)

“Eventually, we were victorious. Superman was sent to the Phantom Zone, Wonder Woman and Black Adam were sent to Oa by Green Lantern to be tried and imprisoned by the Guardians, and Supergirl deflected to our side when she realized her cousin was too far gone. This left Cyborg and Damian the only loyal Regime members still on Earth. I found their adamant belief the Regime was in the right disturbing, so I volunteered in assisting with their rehabilitation. I spent hours talking with them, debating flaws in the Regime’s tactics, discussing their motivations for supporting it, and so on. It may take years for me to get through to them (if I’m able to at all), but I’ve got my child Frisk to help me, who has better powers of persuasion than anyone else I know, and  I’m determined to convince the two young despots to abandon the tyranny they fought tooth and claw to justify.”

#injustice 2 #injusticegodsamongus #toriel #undertale #crossover

[dungeonsnodragons]

Supplies Needed

[Borsk’s official report]

Supplies delivered.

[Borsk’s private journal entry]

Delivery to Master Uris or Days of Elfs Past

It seems the wizard Uris is in need of assistance again.  As we have had dealings in the past, and I wished to see how if she had managed to get her assistants out of the time warp bubble, I took the job posting.  In the common tavern with its usual patrons, I spotted fair Valis sitting with her friend.  I wondered if she would like to join on such a mundane task.  From the strange comments her friend gave me and the sly grins she gave Valis, it appears I have been the subject of some conversation.  I hope it was good things and not how I let the vile creatures infesting the monastery root me in place.

Valis agreed to join me!  And it took very little convincing, she almost seemed eager.  Well, that’s nice.

Julian also went.  Along with his company of cat companions.  I held onto Master Uris’ bag of holding.  Who knows what sort of magical supplies are inside and I don’t trust Julian.

When we exited the portal, we found ourselves in a strange town.  Usually there’s a portal on the other side so that we may return home, but this time there was not.  We wondered if we would have to secure other means to get home.  There was a magic pulse, similar to the one that erupted from Master Uris’ tower when her apprentice was possessed.  However, this time the ground did not erupt into fire or acid or any other such calamity.  The elves of this town did not seem to notice the magic pulse.

And that was the thing…. There were only elves in this town.  And none spoke common, only elvish.  There were more elves than I had ever seen in my life.  Even Valis, who is an elf, remarked on the large population.

As we walked through the town and Valis spoke to the locals trying to get a sense of where we were, a strange thought came into my head.  I could not remember exactly the names on the tombs of the king and queen whose ghosts we fought before, but the stories that were written about them remind me of this place.  We were in the land of King Almer, a great elven kingdom that has seen remarkable peace.  A people who didn’t speak common, who looked at Julian and I strangely as if they had never seen a human or cat that could speak before.

What if… what if we’ve gone back to the time of this kingdom?  We arrived to the realm we had intended, but more than a thousand years into the past.  Before the building of the inter-realm gateways, before humans had thrown themselves over all of creation, before the decimation of this great kingdom.

I told Julian he had better not pull out that cursed sword that he looted from the tomb.  We were told of an attempt made on the king’s life recently, and walking around with his sword would certainly make us suspects.  We already stood out terribly.

We learned some things about this kingdom that we didn’t know before.  They don’t like necromancy, devil or demon worship, or dragon worship.  I quite like these elves, I think.  Though I wonder what befalls them that causes the ghosts of their king and queen to linger on in their tombs for so long.  There was also a ceremony to be had in the afternoon to honor a revolution of some sorts.  The king was supposed to be there.  We thought that perhaps we could present the sword to him and explain our tale and get some assistance.

First, we went to their wizard school to try and find out more information and help.  That turned out to be a bad plan.  Of course the wizard there did not believe our outlandish story.  Julian, idiot, in an effort to be intimidating, used one of his warlock spells.  Now they hate us and they tried to kill us.

As if this adventure hadn’t already gone incalculably wrong, Julian had another trick up his fur.  He summoned a great, metal griffon to be our escape.  We climbed on and crashed through the wall and soared into the air.

Despite that we had ruined any chance of finding assistance from these elves, I have to say I rather enjoyed the griffon ride.  Soaring through the air, fair Valis sitting behind me with her arms clutched around me.  Damned all this blasted armor.  The momentary enjoyment was short-lived as we crashed again, this time through the balcony where the king was preparing to make his speech.  We tried to convince him, but as we had killed two of his guards when the griffon crashed through the wall, he wasn’t exactly on our side.

At least we only got arrested and not executed on the spot.

While we were in the prison cell, the king was killed along with the queen.  So that was the day that it all happened.  We were released by a young squire that we had met when we first arrived.  I’ve decided he needs to stay a fair distance away from Valis.  Such a boy could not possibly understand the sort of care and respect a woman like Valis deserves.  A boy like that would bask in her beauty and offer nothing in return.

We discovered that the king had been stabbed.  A single dagger through the chest.  The queen, whom upon our last encounter had been quite aggressive towards us, appeared to have put up a fierce fight.  Her arms were covered in wounds as if she had defended herself against many dagger strikes.  Her body and clothes were singed with magic.  We began to suspect perhaps their son, if not involved, at least knew something.

We went to the prince’s room and discovered it abandoned.  A recently used teleportation was hidden in there.  Again on the griffon, we followed the magical energy to the bell tower.  It was a strange sight.  It looked like the room that Master Uris’ assistants were trapped in, the same sort of magic was flowing through it.  The prince was there along with a pale-looking companion.  His companion had cuts all over her body--evidence of her fight with the queen.

This creature, a vampire we discovered, marked Valis as the only one who could truly hurt her with her radiant magic.  She went after Valis in a frenzy.  I did my best to protect her, and even Julian was quite useful with his foul magics.  The prince, we decided, was not nearly as dangerous as the vampire and focused all of our efforts on her, even the griffon got into the fight.  I landed what should have been the killing blow, a vengeance for her assault on Valis, but the coward disappeared into a mist and escaped.

The prince also proved himself a coward and jumped out of the window.  He had some sort of magical item that allowed him to fly, but Valis… oh beautiful, intelligent, wondrous Valis.  She used her magic to dispel the magic of the prince’s flying and he dropped like a stone, falling towards the ground.  Our griffon managed to catch him, but not before he took significant trauma.

There was still the large task of returning to our own time to overcome.  We could see Master Uris through the shards of magic in the time bubble, but it seemed only we could see it.  To the elves of this land, they saw only their bell tower.  After resting, Valis figured out how to contact Master Uris.  Through careful manipulation of magic and word choice, Uris explained how to get home.  It took some convincing of the town guard, but we retrieved what was our anchor to this world--the dagger that had killed their king.

As we were preparing to leave, I insisted to Valis that I go through last.  I had to make sure she reached the other side safely.  Just before I pushed her up the ladder to go through the portal, the young squire who, I admit, had been a help, appeared.  He asked to go through the portal with us, to travel to the future.  Valis seemed keen on the idea.  I was quick to register the obvious problems with this plan, that the boy likely had a destiny here and we’d be screwing up the future more than we already had by being here.  Valis probably could have convinced me to let him come with us, as I would do near anything for her, but the boy let something slip that I couldn’t quite shake off.  I think he might be some sort of dragon worshipper.  It’s not just my jealousy that he had gotten Valis’ favor, but I do think there is something shifty about this boy.  I finished pushing Valis up the ladder and through the portal, making sure the boy knew that he could not follow us.

Upon returning to the right time and now in the right place, we took a few days to stay with Master Uris.  Whatever strange magic had trapped us in the past was also connected her assistants being stuck in their own time bubble.  Everything seemed to sort itself back out once we came through the portal.  Master Uris thanked us for bringing her supplies and told us stories of the kingdom of King Almer.  It seemed a Dragon Knight that had once been a knight of that realm had risen up against the kingdom and that was what had led to its downfall.  While I don’t believe it’s possible for this person to still be alive, Uris insists that is the rumor.  Valis and I have vowed to bring him to justice should we find him.

Valis and I went down into the elven tombs in order to pay our respects to the fallen king and queen.  And I wished to return the sword back to its rightful place.  Julian insisted I bring the sword back, even though he couldn’t even wield it.  I’ll just give him my share of the gold later.  The sword belongs back with its king.

The ghost of the king rose again, only this time he only told us his wonderful jokes instead of turning me into a rabbit.  We talked about what had transpired and how sorry we were we couldn’t stop it.  I asked him if he wanted the sword returned and instead something truly remarkable happened.

I trained near everyday from boyhood.  I was squire to Sir Hamelin for three years.  My knighthood was a guarantee.  I would take my place next to my father in the king’s army and achieve great victory for our realm.  It was my birthright, but I never felt as if I had earned it.  I was following the path that had always been laid out for me and inheriting greatness.

The ghost of King Almer asked me to kneel before him and I did so without hesitation.  He made me a knight of his kingdom and I do not think I have ever been so proud and humbled at the same time.  He bestowed upon me the sword he had been buried with, the one that we had stolen under my strong objections.  It was a family heirloom of his kingdom and a sword that had killed many dragons.  And now, it is mine.  I promised that I would slay many dragons with it, in his name.

Upon exiting the tomb, I knelt before Julian and offered him my apologies.  I had been quite hard on him during our journey, but it was his griffon and quick thinking that had helped us greatly.  I couldn’t promise to not get angry at him in the future, as the way we view the world is still quite different, but I let go of my anger and dislike of him.

#borsk #report #journal entry #dnd #5e #arcway #fighter #this session was so fucking good #this isn't even all the crazy shit that happened #i forgot about how julian's patron wanted us to commit genocide in order to get home