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#reaper says he had a high opinion of himself and that he was always rushing in
soybeantree · 4 years
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revenant
pairing: grimreaper!do kyungsoo x cemeteryworker!(reader) genre/warning: eventual fluff  word count: 2k+ description:  the surplus of spoopy ghost dramas as of late brought this little gem around. totally normal for a paranormal story in january, right?  a/n: january installment of our ‘trying to write a kyungsoo story for every month that he is gone’ series. hana promises that there will be a part 2 because b if there ain’t imma flip. she loves the angsty cliff-hangers. i HATE them. - em
Your mother always said the benefits to living in a rich city were innumerable. That’s a bit strong of an adjective, but you can agree that there are many benefits. You have access to great shops and great food, top rated schools, and the city is beautiful. Every building, street, and sign look like they were plucked from some children’s book. The city officials take great pride in the city’s appearance. Too much pride though, which is why you’re waking up at 9:30 in the evening for your 10:00 shift at the cemetery. The cemetery is one of the city’s top tourist attractions. The above ground mausoleums, the grand tombstones dating back centuries, they draw in countless visitors each day. As such, the city officials expend great effort and money to maintain the grounds and keep the stone gleaming. However, since appearance is everything, the cemetery’s caretakers, aka you, your father, and your grandmother before him, must only work at night. After all, what tourist wants to see a sweaty, mud-begrimed worker pushing a cart around the cemetery?
Despite the ridiculousness of the arrangement, you enjoy working at night. Grabbing a beanie, you pull it over your ears as you head out. A thin fog is your only companion as you walk the short distance to the cemetery’s back entrance. The lack of tourist makes your work easier and more bearable. If you had to do double duty as caretaker and tour guide, many tourists would find a new home in a mausoleum. Another benefit is the hefty paycheck. The extra money though is due less to working at night and more to the fact that the cemetery is haunted. Heading towards your tool shed, which is cleverly disguised as a mausoleum, you pass several spirits. The newer ones acknowledge you with a nod while the older ones wander by lost to themselves. During your school days, your classmates gave you a wide berth. They held the ignorant opinion that spirits followed you to school. However at that point, they would have had to follow your dad home then attached themselves to you then follow you to school. None of which made any sense. Ghosts rarely travel far from their resting place. Explaining that to your schoolmates though was a waste of breath, so you stopped. The caretaker position became yours by default. You went away for a few years after college, but real world jobs are too boring. When you came back, the city council all but kissed your feet. The slew of caretakers who came in after your father retired had lasted only days at a time. The cemetery was a mess. The city council was at its wits end. You could have asked for anything. In the end, you settled for the fat paycheck and complete autonomy. Pulling out your cart, you begin your work. The fog slips through the cemetery obscuring the paths and adding to the whole eerie haunted vibe. Your feet know the pathways, and you hum to yourself as you walk. On today’s “to do” list, you have polishing the mausoleums by the eastern entrance. Some city council dweeb had complained that they looked weathered and dingy. You wish he had said it to your face rather than hide behind an email, but he was probably too chicken-livered to step foot within the cemetery. “Good evening, caretaker.” The singsong voice grates against your ears. You stop in front of the first marble facade and pull a rag and polish out of your cart. “What has fouled your mood? Receive another rejection from a suitor?” “I’d have to have a suitor to be rejected by one.” You grunt as you crouch down to start on the base of the first column. “True.” She giggles. The ghost hovers beside you, the hem of her ethereal gown brushing against your cheek. You sneeze. “What has soured your mood then?” Sighing, you stand and move to the top of the column. With a huff, she floats to your other side and folds her hands in front of her. She glances over her shoulder then back at you. “The cemetery is awful quiet tonight.” You skirt around her as you move onto the next column. Beside the few specters you passed when you arrived, you have yet to meet another of the cemetery’s occupants since beginning your work. “Have you no curiosity for the cemetery’s silence?” “I assume it’s because Mrs. King started on about her grandkids again.” “Indeed not.” She simpers, peering at you from the columns other side. You divert your attention to your task, scrubbing an obstinate stain. Clearing her throat, she continues. “Mr. Long in plot 112 has gone malevolent.” Your hand stills. In addition to the high pay and freedom from human interaction, there is a third benefit to working nights at the cemetery. Arguably the best benefit, and one of the main reasons you returned. Of all the days to roll out of bed and throw on clothes, it had to be today. Yesterday, you had showered and worn decent clothing, not the stained cargo pants and t-shirt which you pulled from your laundry basket. You groan and toss your rag into the cart, fighting the urge to kick one of the wheels. Your work boots would easily protect your toes, but you’d rather not give your companion the satisfaction of seeing how deeply her news affects you. She smiles smugly at you. “I’m sure a reaper will take care of Mr. Long. You might want to make yourself scarce. I’d hate for the reaper to see you and take you with Mr. Long.” “Surely, you know which reaper has come.” She floats through the column to hover beside you. Often during your life, you have wished for the ability to slap a ghost. Today, the wish twitches your fingers, but you keep your hand by your side. Only reapers can touch ghosts. Of course, you know which reaper has come. The cemetery has a single reaper assigned to maintain order. He was in charge even before your grandmother’s time. His name is or was Kyungsoo. All your grandmother and father would say about him was that he was the cemetery’s Reaper, and it was best to leave him to work in peace. Which would be easy, if you hadn’t developed a crush on him when you were four. “Mr. Long is the first malevolent spirit since you started, correct? Which would mean this is the first time Reaper Kyungsoo has made his appearance?” Her smile widens. “How many years have passed since last you saw him? Surely, you wish to renew your acquaintance.” “Surely, you wish to mind your own damn business.” You hiss. Of all the damn ghosts to witness the first time you met Kyungsoo, it would have to be this bitch. She chuckles, and you shake your head. Stupid. However, now there’s no point in pretending you don’t care. Leaving the cart and your responsibilities behind, you race across the cemetery to plot 112.
-
A malevolent spirit is frightening to anyone who hasn’t grown up around ghosts. The normally human-appearing spirit transforms into a towering demon. There’s a lot of ear-splitting screeching and gusts of wind which dig into the ground spraying rocks and dirt into the air, and an overwhelming sense of dread fills your chest and tugs at fear. However, growing up around ghosts, you learn when you should be afraid and when the malevolent spirit is just a pissy, windbag. Mr. Long is the later. Sitting on the tombstone of a spirit who long ago passed into the beyond, you watch the skirmish between spirit and reaper. Kyungsoo rushes forward scythe in hand. His black robes billow out behind him as he leaps forward. The scythe slices through Mr. Long as he passes him. A final screech peters to a whimper as Mr. Long returns to himself. Kyungsoo lands, spinning the moment his feet touch ground. He faces his opponent, his scythe posed behind him, ready for the next swing. Mr. Long stares forlornly at the reaper then at the mess he has made of his burial site. He whimpers again. The sound tugs at your heart strings. While you are the one who will have to put the area to rights, you sympathize for the spirit. He’s new to the cemetery, two years in the grave. You didn’t know him when he was alive, and you haven’t spent much time around him since he arrived. However, you know his grave marker cost less than two hundred and that he never has flowers placed on it. He stands beside it during the day, staring at the cemetery’s entrance. Kyungsoo relaxes his stance. His scythe disappears as he steps forward. From this distance, you fail to hear the exchange between reaper and spirit, but you can see the relief in Mr. Long’s shoulders. A reaper’s duty is to ferry the dead to their final resting place and protect the living from the dead. Kyungsoo will allow Mr. Long to remain in the world of the living and will not resort to drastic measures to protect the living. You’ve heard of reapers who decimate a malevolent spirit without a thought. Kyungsoo has never been like that. Even that first time you met him, he brought the spirit back to sanity. Back then, you had thought he was some kind of superhero. He appeared from nowhere and rescued you and the monster. The conversation ends, and Mr. Long disappears to wherever ghost go. You asked both you grandmother and father where ghosts go when they disappear from the living world. Both blustered without giving a satisfactory explanation. You assume they go rest in their graves. “You’ve returned.” The voice is soft like the footsteps which brought it near you. Glancing up, you find Kyungsoo standing a few feet from you. Your heart quickens and rises through your throat, blocking all words. So you nod. “I am happy to know your family will continue to oversee the cemetery. The caretakers after your father had no place here.” Your head bobs along as you force your heart back into your chest. “I guess not everyone is cut out to work with the dead.” He smiles, and your heart rises once again. You cough and look away. “Your father is well?” You nod, keeping your eyes on the rows of tombstones. “He retired to a beach somewhere.” In a whisper, you ask, “My grandmother?” “She passed beyond when she died. I saw her off well.” As you had thought, your grandmother wasn’t one to linger in the living world. She had done her work and been satisfied with her life. “I look forward to working with you.” His words nearly force your heart from your body. You choke on it, falling off your perch from the violence of your hacking. “Are you unwell?” He crouches before you ensuring you meet his gaze. “Fine.” You croak as you push yourself off the ground and put distance between you two. “I also look forward to working with you. Not that I hope you come a lot because malevolent spirits are bad, but also when you do come I won’t be mad.” Your words peter out, and you wish you could have choked again. Kyungsoo maintains the distance you set, his lips curving down into a pout as you rambled. “Thank you for helping Mr. Long. I’ll take extra care to check on him.” You swerve the conversation. His lips turn up into a soft smile. He glances behind him at plot 112. “He is a good man and will find peace if he allows himself.” When his attention returns to you, you can feel the charge in his eyes. A caretaker’s job is more than maintaining the cemetery’s appearance. The truest duty is held within the title. You must take care of the spirits and help them on their way. You nod. “Thank you.” He bows his head. “I must be going.” In the next instant, the space before you is empty. You remain staring at that space, a forgotten smile on your lips. “I am beginning to understand your lack of suitors.” Your smile sours. You really wish you could slap a ghost.
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chibimyumi · 5 years
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I was rewatching some of the 2nd kuromyu and it hit me that Furukawa really spoilt us in every way possible with his portrayal Sebastian and It made me wonder what your opinions on Yuya Matsushita's sebas are?
Dear, deaaaar Anon,
I agree, Furukawa really did spoil us rotten ❤
Matsushita? Erm……….. well………. I guess the time has come that people will more concretely find out why my blog has zero Matsushita content despite aiming to ‘promote Kuromyu’ XD
Warning - Unpopular and PERSONAL opinion:
*Disclaimer at the bottom of this post.
In 2009 I was very impressed to see my favourite manga turning into theatre, my favourite type of media. Despite being young and easily impressed at the time, even now 10 years later, I do recognise the pressure of a literal teen having to shoulder the pressure of playing an omnipotent demon butler in a wildly popular show. 2.5D actors are one of the most underpaid people in Japan. When it came to the casting of ‘the perfect butler’, they had to look for someone who:
could sing at least not terribly
act not terribly
looked not terribly
would be okay with basically no salary.
That’s how they ended up casting an 18-year-old Matsushita (a minor in Japan). The expectations were of course crushing, and Matsushita did not really manage to live up to these, mostly because of his very high pitched voice (which is not fair to condemn someone for).
According to many however, he looked decently handsome. Editor Kuma was aware of the limitations to this child-performer, and instructed Matsushita to play into what people did appreciate in him; his looks.
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I don’t know whether it was Matsushita’s personal interpretation or the limit to his abilities, but to me, he never managed to show me any aspect outside ‘the handsome host-butler’. His singing was mediocre-good, his acting however was never believable to me. Though I was also painfully aware of the huge burden on his shoulders, so I appreciated him for what he was 1. The first 3D Sebas, and 2. A child working very, VERY hard in shouldering the impossible burden of the thirsty fandom.
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When ‘The Most Beautiful Death in the World’ came out in 2010, I was stunned. It was such a major improvement in comparison to the first Kuromyu.
‘The Most Beautiful Death in the World’ was something that I loved at the time, and was my first reason to love Kuromyu. But now I recognise how ‘MBD’ is highly problematic and I can’t look at them anymore, mainly because:
The plot holes that… are just glaring XD (Eric: “I have an all-powerful Death Scythe with which I could kill a demon and without which I am basically powerless. Let’s throw it at him!”  Sebastian: “I caught the all-powerful weapon from the reaper who is powerless without. Hm. Let’s not use it against him or keep it from him, but throw it back at him :D”)
The corset scene (where they made a CHILD actor moan and play in a scene with heavy sexual context for a huge audience’s hedonistic pleasure! Or even worse in 2013, where they made 14 year old Tanaka Taketo play the role of a seducer with an adult in the curtain call for Matsushita’s Birthday. And the boy had NO say in the matter. UGH, I still can’t believe the producers made a child who had no power to say no do something like that…)
Of course none of those were Matsushita’s fault, but retroactively these two factors did bother me so much I found myself unable to enjoy the musical anymore.
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When ‘The Lycoris that Blazes the Earth 2014’ came out, I was thrilled to see what Matsushita would make of it, because finally he was given the chance to show ‘a real Sebas in a canon story’. Somehow, Lycoris 2014 almost became a ‘test for Matsushita’ for me: “will be prove himself a worthy Sebas now he has the chance?”
By 2014 however, the rising fame really started to get to Matsushita’s head, and he started showing the alpha-male macho behaviour I dislike most in people. Still I was curious to see the musical, so I did give him a chance.
In Lycoris 2014 however, it felt like Matsushita turned Sebastian into him, rather than himself into Sebastian. His spastic acting and unnecessary comic additions just didn’t do it for me. It was like he was trying to steal a show that was already his. What also bothered me was how he forced his voice way below his range.
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I am obviously aware that this alpha-male behaviour and the forced low pitch are both the product of the bullying where people criticised him with: “He sounds like a helium balloon” or “He sings like a girl”, but these do not excuse the behaviour for me personally.
So in a nutshell, to me Matsushita reached the peak of his performance of Sebas around 2013 where he seemed to see what Sebastian is supposed to be and walked towards him. In 2014 however when he was finally cast in a canon-story, it became blatantly apparent – TO ME PERSONALLY - how not-Sebastian he was.
There is hardly any information about Matsushita after Lycoris 2014, but Matsushita announced his retirement from Kuromyu using the word ‘graduated’. When Furukawa was announced as the second Sebastian, Matsushita basically disappeared off radar, and did not make any Kuroshitsuji-related public comments until 2016 where he publicly acknowledged Furukawa.
“Actually…Today after I just rounded up the rehearsals for X4 I went to watch the evening performance for “Kuroshitsuji – NOAH’s ARK CIRCUS – ”.I liked the circus arc to begin with, so especially this time I rushed to see[the musical]. It was super fun, and above everything else, the cast, the music, set and illuminations were of an altogether different level than before, it was very glamorous and I enjoyed it a lot.To begin with, the musical I played my first lead role in at age 19 was this“Kuroshitsuji”. I’m performing in all kinds of productions now, but more than half of my acting careers up till now had been Kuroshitsuji.I’ve done this 4 times now, and last year I had the honour to baton-pass the role to the current Sebastian, Mr. Furukawa Yuuta. I have decided to officially retire from this franchise and it might be presumptuous for me to say this, but the “Kuroshitsuji” musical franchise I had been part of from age 19 really has gone up in quality, the scale has suddenly become so amazing too. It is now at a level I can’t ever reach myself, but still I’m happy for [the franchise]. Really. I’m very moved~[…]  Already the new Sebastian has been established above anything else, and I’ve seen in him the Sebastian I always wanted to portray but never managed to. He is excellent.[…] - Matsushita Yuya
Original post
Click here for full translation
*Disclaimer: I am not trying to bash Matsushita. I know this can be rather sensitive to Matsushita-fans. I am merely sharing MY personal opinion since I was asked.
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blackpalaladin · 7 years
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Paths
I just finished one test. So I’m rewarding myself with something short and sweet. Another Hanzo thingy.
The first one is here. (My first interpretation of this interaction)
Something that’s been jiggling around in my brain for about a week or two.
This is Doomzo and Mchanzo. So fair warning. 
{Warnings: Sexual content mentioned(Nothing explicit), voyeurism(Mentioned)}
Hanzo has always been attracted to powerful men. Not a shock, considering he’s spent his entire life under the control of powerful men.
So when Akande Ogundimu stepped through into his family's compound, a low bow at his father’s side, Hanzo knew. He knew in the way Akande watched him as they toured the main grounds, those strong arms tucked at his lower back, hands clasped. Hanzo could hear their fathers speaking quietly and he knew that an alliance would be struck between their families.
He was not aware that a marriage would be required.
He was also not adverse to it.
Akande was a generous lover, a strong presence at Hanzo’s side. He had an analytical mind that could rival Hanzo’s own. His tactical genius assisted Hanzo when his father deemed them worthy of assigning raids.
Akande visited frequently. Hanzo never visited him. Sojiro would never allow his only competent heir to leave the fortress of their home.
Hanzo was bitter, angry. He watched Genji flit around Hanamura with clouded eyes.
“Jealously is a double edged sword, Hanzo.” Akande’s fingers tip his chin up from where they lay in Hanzo’s room. The tatami doors are open and the cool wind strays across sweating flesh. Hanzo’s hair spills out across Akande’s chest, his hair tie was long gone and ripped away.
“I am not jealous.” He mutters.
Akande regards him quietly, hand sliding along Hanzo’s jawline and into his hair, “It burns within. Do not let that anger consume you.”
The kiss is soft, much softer than the sex has ever been.
His loyalty to Akande and his father shifts just slightly on his twenty second birthday. Genji drags him out of the compound, despite his protests. Akande waves him away and returns to whatever it is he was reading.
He meets the mysterious man in black at the bar. He’s young, perhaps as young as Hanzo himself. His hair is unruly and his clothing speaks of duty. There is a patch hidden in the confines of his pocket and Hanzo is part of an underground operation.They are no strangers to Overwatch’s matryoshka doll of an organization.
Blackwatch was in Hanamura.
Something thrilling erupts in the pit of Hanzo’s stomach. Rebellion at its core. Something he has longed for his entire life. That tingly sense of freedom and he wonders if this is the high that Genji’s lives on.
He takes the cowboy (‘Call me Jesse, darlin’) home with him. The man’s hands are rough and his voice rougher as he slips them up Hanzo’s clothes. His skin is alight, mouth hungry as he tastes cigars and whiskey hot like embers on his tongue.
“Are you going to share?”
Akande’s voice is a thunder of curiosity behind them. Hanzo startles, realizes where he is and who was in his room waiting for him.
Shame is the first thing to rush through him.
Arousal is the second.
He looks up at the blackwatch agent, thumbs  the beard at his jawline, “You will watch.” He speaks to Akande.
Akande’s laugh is dark, promising, “Only if I get you after, my dragon.”
He takes the agent named Jesse in his bed. Hands curled in the man’s unruly hair and insides burning from the frenzy of emotion Jesse releases. His words are frantic, rushed and bleeding with promises Hanzo knows he can’t keep.
Akande watches from the sidelines, waiting.
Jesse steals a rough kiss and his eyes are almost gold in the moonlight cast through Hanzo’s bedroom. He leaves in silence, one last look at Hanzo as Akande slips into the bed with him.
Akande is a brand, an overwhelming overstimulation.
Hanzo loves it.
But he dreams of Jesse.
Years pass. Akande comes to him with news. He has been taken under by a mentor. The second line of Doomfist. It is an honor, despite the atrocious the second Doomfist has committed. He asks Hanzo opinion and they discuss it over tea.
Akande is passionate, brilliant.
Hanzo’s smile is tight. His brother’s figure passes the doorway.
“We will be unstoppable together.” Akande declares.
Hanzo returns to his betrothed, can see the ambition and promise in Akande’s gaze.
He forgets about Jesse.
He murders his brother.
Blood drips down his hands, sword at his feet. His chest is tight, too tight and there seems to be no breath in his lungs. The dragon's howl under his skin, distraught and screaming at the death of their own brother.
Hanzo flees.
He runs and runs, changing his name, his identity. He hides.
Akande’s capture spreads across the world. Contaminated by Talon. Taken down by a small team from Overwatch.
Hanzo hovers above his prison twice. He so desperately wants to see him.
Why did they stray so far from their paths?
They were supposed to rule together. They were going to be unstoppable.
But Hanzo is done with this criminal life. He roams the world, seeking redemption for the atrocity that he has committed. He mourns for his brother every day. Returns to the castle in his honor every year.
That is where he is reunited his brother once again.
His dragon is a beacon of green, a reminder of what Hanzo has done.  
Genji offers forgiveness.
Hanzo can not accept that.
He cannot.
Hanzo keeps tabs on Overwatch for a month before he drops onto its doorstep. The recall brings more than he thought it would.
Including:
Jesse McCree.
Who greets Hanzo with a tip of his hat and a smile that speaks volumes of their past.
“Never thought I’d see you again, darlin’.” His voice has aged, so has the rest of him. So has Hanzo.
“Nor did I.” Hanzo mutters.
Jesse swallows, pats his legs, “How about a drink?”
Hanzo lifts an eyebrow, nods, “I would….enjoy that.”
He is with Jesse for nearly a year when the Reaper assists Akande in his prison breakout. The doomfist gauntlet has been taken. Numbani is in tatters, a frenzy of political and civilian meltdowns.
Hanzo is alone on the battlefield when Akande lands before him.
He is just as imposing as he was in his youth, more so now with the golden gauntlet covering half his chest. The white markings are new. His footsteps are silent, despite his hulking size.
Hanzo is not afraid.
“Hanzo, you should consider joining us, I think we would see eye to eye.” It is not the first thing he expected Akande to say to him after so long apart.
Hanzo wrinkles his nose, nocks an arrow, “I would have little to gain from such an arrangement. No, I will find my own path.”
Akande stops before him. He is the enemy now. Hanzo should be afraid.
His left hand cups the side of Hanzo’s face, thumb across his cheek, “You are sure?” Akande’s voice lowers, as does his head.
Hanzo thinks of Genji. Of everything he has done. The anger that burned within him when he struck his brother from the sky.
He thinks of Jesse, a warm weight at his back every night. The smell of smoke and the taste of alcohol on the balcony of the watchpoint.
“We would be unstoppable.” Akande promises, “Talon could offer you more than just your empire, Hanzo.”
Hanzo closes his eyes, “I must refuse.”
A sigh, heavy and warm against his face.
“Losing you is difficult to bear.” Akande admits quietly, “You know I do not like refusal.”
Hanzo steadies his posture, jerks out of Akande’s grip and levels an arrow at his chest, “Then you should get use to my refusal from this point on.”
Akande grins, eyes dark and molten on Hanzo’s, “Then I look forward to seeing you again on the battlefield, my dragon.” He bows swiftly and slinks away.
Hanzo lets him.
Hanzo lowers his bow. Heart racing. Sweat beading down the back of his neck.
“-anzo!”
His comm fizzes to life, he did not realize it had been compromised.
“I am here.” He replies.
A relieved string of sighs on the other end from numerous members of his team, “Where are you? What’s your status?” Soldier 76’s voice is firm and bellows over the other questions of where he is.
“I will return to the rendezvous point shortly.” Hanzo states, “And 76?”
“Yea?”
“Tell Winston that Talon is recruiting.”
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shayde-n-friends · 7 years
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Reaper High - The Start of A Nightmare
((Apart of JFH week. Day 1 - Where is everyone before/around when everything goes down? Here’s where. (Includes some brief mention of canon characters) Hope you Enjoy!))
“So why am I ze one who has to crawl through ze vents?”
“Because Turians aren’t good at crawling. Plus, how would I fit in there?”
Revar had been tasked with maintenance for the week as extra credit, a nice way to pass the time during a free period he though. Volker, on the other hand, was bored and had nothing to do, since Russell and Shiho “disappeared.” He knew they were ditching, and actually would have liked to join them…but Revar just NEEDED his help for the mundane task that only the assassin could help with apparently.
“So what am I looking for?” Volker’s voice echoed from the grate.
“The system says there’s some sort of blockage. Find it, and if you can, get rid of it.” Revar responded, not looking up from his Omni-tool.
Volker started to swear in german, as his voice grew quieter and quieter as he moved away. However the sound of his movements were always could always be heard, precisely why he and the other assassins never used the vents to sneak around. A few minutes passed, and there was nothing from The Assassin. A few more passed. Still nothing. Revar became nervous, as Volker always checked in when he’d reached the objective, or at least signaled when there was trouble…
Suddenly, someone down the hall started to giggle. It calmed Revar’s nerves.
“Spirits…was this another prank??” He sighed, annoyed. Revar hated pranks.
Sadly. This was no prank.
The laughter grew louder…and louder…and louder still…and Revar was confused. Nobody had come to mock him for his susceptibility to jokes, and Volker hadn’t come back. Noises of slamming against lockers and glass breaking echoed from behind the door to the hallway. The Turian rose from his seat and put on his helmet, and in time as well. Gas poured from where Volker had gone in to check, and now it was seeping in from under the door.
“What the hell..?!” Revar drew his Harrier rifle. His heart began to race.
He rushed to the door and locked it, and almost instantly, from outside there was banging. He leveled his rifle and prepared for the worst…
—-
Roulette had locked herself in a lab room that she had been working in. Her classmates foolishly left to see what the commotion was about. Despite her telling them not to go, they left, and Roulette mourned. She what was happening and who was behind it. She’d gone to Ms. Bellum about the threat he posed again and again but to no avail…he had to stay for some reason…The Joker. She hadn’t a clue if there were any survivors, and she couldn’t risk leaving. Despite being mechanical, granting her immunity to the toxin, she knew she’d been overwhelmed and captured within minutes. She needed a plan, she needed reinforcements…
“Spirit.” She summoned her Ghost. “Find out where my brother is. Get him and his friends to come back. NOW.” She ordered.
“Roger Dodger, boss!” Spirit chimed.
The little light flew through a vent, and was gone in a flash. Now all the Warlock could do was wait…and pray that the others would return soon.
—-
“This rifle is garbage!”
Stake hissed and moaned at the inaccuracy of the arcade shooter game’s rifle, causing his to loose his patience and subsequently, the game itself. Whilst he raged at the game, the other students roamed the rest of the arcade. Brawl Hall (partially aided by Coach Cinder) decided to take a ditch day. Taking Stake’s LAAT, The Fellowship, consisting of Stake, Shayde, Vega, Shard, Shiho and Melody, decided to head into town and have some fun. While Shard and Melody left for the theatre, everyone else was in the arcade, having a ball. Shayde and Vega spent most of their time playing arcade cabinets and hockey.
“6-1, Shayde. Give up while you still can.” Vega teased, walking over to him and tugging on his cloak.
“But this game’s so fun! That’s what it’s about, right?” Shayde took Vega’s arm innocently.
She giggled softly and pulled Shayde in to kiss his cheek. The two hugged and strolled to the next game together. Meanwhile, Shiho spent her time setting impossibly high records for fruit ninja. So much so that the arcade considered making a reward for anyone who could beat her. However, there was only one person who could beat Shiho’s high score. And that person was Shiho.
The crew felt so carefree in this moment, that it felt like nothing could ruin this day.
Nothing.
—–
“Something’s wrong Russell. We need to go back.”
Shay pleaded for Russell to return to the school, as he could feel a disturbance through the connection he had with mystic forces of RH. Russell didn’t care. While he was concerned for the safety of the other students of most of the other halls, he couldn’t care less about Genius Sanctum. There were only three people he cared about there, and he knew at least two of them could candle themselves.
But the third one…
“What is it you’re so worried about? I mean, besides Egomaniac Central.” Russell, tired of the situation before he was even apart of it.
“They’re not the problem this time…” Shay said sternly. “I can’t sense any other magic users aside from everyone else who left…something’s happened. And it’s not just to them, it’s to everyone! Whatever this is…it’s dire.”
Everyone. Shay never used words lightly. Russell turned in the school’s direction. He sighed in anger, and readied his blades.
“Fine.”
—-
The second she sensed darkness around the school’s vicinity, Xavis scrapped her patrol mission, hopped into her ship and left for RH’s dimension faster than she could throw a punch. Which is very fast. She wouldn’t arrive at the school for another half hour, so she spent her time loading up her weapons, selecting the heaviest armor she could find, and pondering how she would hurt whoever started this mess. Roulette said that something like this was bound to happen, and how could she be wrong? Letting villains just run around and do whatever the hell they want? A dumb decision in Roulette’s eyes. Of course for Xavis, all it really meant was a grade and a fun time. But this? This felt different, like an actual threat. Like The Hive or The Vex…
Xavis’ Ghost, Cicely, appeared beside the titan.
“Boss…I got a transmission from Spirit. You’re not gonna like this…”
There, on the ship’s small view screen appeared a picture of the main halls, all looking like maniacs and…
“…That piece of…”
Xavis kicked the ship into overdrive, and the second she was in the school’s dimension, she brought her ship close to the ground, jumped out and slammed into the earth below like a furious blue meteor. Without another word she charged into the school, a raging armored freight train with no brakes to speak of.
——
Above Reaper High, cloaked and undetected, a ship sits idle in the sky. Aboard it, sits a member of the Dark Blade Predator Clan, Marsh. A researcher, an explorer and a warrior. Rather than hunt like most of his race did, he set off to observe, to learn from and to document the various species he’d encountered. He had been observing the school for sometime now, and had even infiltrated once or twice…but now he was displeased. Someone, a rather boring someone in the Predator’s opinion, decided to make everyone just like him. Marsh wasn’t happy. All the specimens were the most skilled warriors he’d ever seen. So skilled, in fact, that rather than hunt them he wished to train with them! But now they were about as boring as any other humans he’d ever encountered. This couldn’t stand.
He set the ship to land and drop him off on the ground, so that he may conduct a hunt for the one responsible for the disruption of his studies. But before he set off, he readied himself. Taking notes from a few well known hunters of his tribe, he took a spear, two plasma casters, two scimitar gauntlets and a bladed whip. While he was rather peeved about the circumstance of this hunt, he was also rather enthusiastic. This was the first time he would engage these warriors in combat and even if they weren’t the best that the school had to offer, they would be formidable nonetheless. When the ship touched down, he stepped out and cracked his knuckles. Were he human, a large grin would be present upon his face. Yes, this was a rather obnoxious situation, Marsh thought. But even the most tedious of tasks can be…fun.
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13: So my first tattoo is this one, the text on my collarbone. It says, this is really tacky, but it says “love conquers all” because I had just come back from this backpacking trip in Romania. I was 18 and tbh I lost my virginity on the trip and it was fascinating to me. I became really attached but I knew I would never see this guy again when I come back home. I was just obsessed with the idea of love at the time because I was also fooling around with some other people, it was when I first delved into the “game.” So yeah, I decided to do that in Romania and soon after I got it I felt really stupid. I was like “Man, this says love conquers all, that is the tackiest thing I could have come up with.” And now I’m totally fine with it but for a while I was just like “Aw damn…” This was also the only tattoo I passed out on. When it hit my collar bone, I didn’t realize it would hit my bone, and yeah, it hurt so bad. I'm very sensitive. I don’t know why I keep getting them. The second one I got was this rose right underneath the quote. It’s basically one piece now because I just added onto it. I was still 18 and for every one of my tattoos I’ve gone alone because I don’t like people waiting for me and I feel pressured. So this rose is just complimenting the text because it’s a symbol of love and for my senior year art project I did a bunch of paintings with roses in them.
So I think those were all the ones I got in high school. And then I went on this trip for art students, it’s an art convention kinda deal, and I was walking around with a shirt that was kinda low and some guys would be like “Oh nice tattoo” when I walk by and they were making fun of me. I guess cause it was high school they were all like “Oh you think youre so cool.” And I felt really sad and ashamed then. I hid it from my parents for the first 3 months until graduation when my mom saw it because it peaked out a little from my dress. She didn’t talk to me for a week. After that she started yelling at me and telling me how ashamed she was. Both of my parents are from Taiwan, they grew up there and then they came to America when they were 30. And in Taiwan, and most of Asian culture, they all believe that people who have tattoos and piercings are part of a gang or they deal drugs. So they assumed everyone in America thought the same way. I felt really bad. She asks me “so when are you gonna remove it” every time she sees it. Even now. Dad even more so. It was worse when my dad found out. It was on fathers day. We were out at a really nice restaurant and he saw it and was like, “Alison, what is that?” He actually yelled at me in the middle of the restaurant and it got really tense. He was very serious about. He is a lot more aggressive than my mom is, more direct. There was one time, this is somewhat unrelated, but I was about to go to this public middle school. We were at the orientation and a bunch of the parents there had sleeves or just tattoos here and there, and that was common for that area, even though it was a really nice area. My parents were like “We are not sending you here” and that was a week before school started. So they transferred me to a private school that was small where none of the parents had tattoos that they knew of at least. So that’s how badly they think of tattoos.
 M: Wow and it’s still like this? Do they know about all of your tattoos?
13: No not all of them. I never tell them when I’m going to get a tattoo because I don’t want to disappoint them even more. They tell me that I’m going to ruin my life and I’m never going to get a job. They're very adamant about it. And I understand it, with where they come from. But at the same time they don’t understand how American culture sees it differently than Asian culture.
Alright so third tattoo is this [lotus flower] on my back. This is embarrassing, but I got the idea for it from Tumblr in high school. I also got this one in high school. I went through a phase where I was obsessed with yoga and meditation and being zen. Which is why I got the lotus flower, plus I thought it was really pretty.
Next one is this gun on my hip with a heart in the middle. I’ve never actually shot a gun before. But I got this the day before coming to Rhodes my freshman year because I was like “fuck it, this is my last day here” and I really like the artists in Austin. I thought of it the night before. I was worried it was a little too masculine, especially since I don’t shoot guns, so I thought I'd just add a heart in the middle and I thought it was really cute.
           The first tattoo I got in Memphis I hated it. It was just a really bad job. Don’t ever go to Tattoo Spot on Highland. It's this one on my ribs, its says “eat me” and it looks like a pizza but it's supposed to be the cookie from Alice in Wonderland. I drew it myself, but this is not what I drew. The artist just drew it himself freestyle on me. I thought to myself “Oh he's a pro it'll be ok.” And this was the most painful one other than my collarbone because it was on my side. I cried. It was the only one I’ve cried for. So yeah I really hated it. It looks nothing like what I sketched out and everyone thinks it’s a fucking pizza. But I got it because Alice in Wonderland is my favorite one, it’s very artistic in my opinion. Now I like it, -ish. I've learned to appreciate it. It has hearts on it too. I don’t think I'll ever get it removed or add onto it because it was so painful. I don’t care about it now.
My next tattoo was this one. It’s a little grim reaper. I got it on Friday the 13th. I've always wanted a grim reaper so I drew this one on the back of my lab report in chem class. I thought it was pretty boring at first so I added a heart. I didn’t realize how many hearts I have until talking about it just now. I put it on my ankle because I wanted to even out my body and also I didn’t have any leg/feet area tattoos.
Last one is the lucky cat. I thought of this two days before. I'm very impulsive I guess. I got it sophomore year. I told the lady, I really want a lucky cat and I want you to make it look really kawaii and I want it in color. I wanted to get this one because the Chinese letter in it is “Fu” it means prosperity and luck. So I wanted that for rest of my life as confirmation for myself. The heart wasn’t there originally but it looked incomplete so I added another heart.
 So people's reactions. In high school I got a lot of negative attention like I mentioned before. None of my friends in high school had tattoos, but all friends at work at café E had a lot of tattoos and they were all really into it and supportive. I think that’s why I got so invested in them. A bunch of people at Rhodes have been really supportive of them. Not purposefully, but they always compliment my tattoos if they see them. And that’s really nice because that is a huge change from how it was back home to hear. And I didn’t expect that because Austin is really liberal and Memphis is like, Bible belt. But at the same time a lot of people on campus aren’t from Memphis or the bible belt. So coming here it was like, thank you, I can finally feel better about these now. I can actually be proud of them. I think it had a lot to do with the environment I surrounded myself in. And I didn’t purposefully do that. I didn’t expect Rhodes kids to be all for it. Now I don’t even realize they're there, I see them so often. There is still a lot of stigma in certain places though. I used to be in a sorority which I didn’t really like. And I've heard from other sororities too that during rush they hide girls with visible tattoos or colored hair. So I was really surprised by that, like you can't shame someone for something that is permanently on their body that probably means a lot to them and you're telling them it’s worthless and stupid. And if you accepted them in the first place why are you trying to hide them. I got this last one (the cat) during rush actually. The chair of rush came up to me and said, “I'm going to fucking kill you.” I also had colored hair and I don’t think they liked that either. The greek culture on the female side is pretty strict and most of them don’t like that idea. Guys don’t really care.
           I feel like I found my group of people outside the srat world that are more accepting and cooler and more fun and are like “you can do whatever you want just don’t hurt yourself and take care of yourself and actually be in control of your life. But still do whatever you want!” and they will support me in every positive aspect of my life.
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