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#the master's obviously Beryl
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his eyes reminded you of garnets, shining, deep and raw. they were intriguing as you saw the depth of the red beryl gems that seemed to have been cut by a master jeweler. the most precious gem, crafted from practiced hands and gifted to an enigma of a man.
“you’re staring.” was all that was said as he turned the paper he was reading, never looking up at you.
“beautiful things are to be admired.” you respond back easily, not letting him catching you in the act stop you from continuing. he sighed.
“i am not a beautiful thing to be admired. at most i’m the demented figure you lock in a cabinet and then is forgotten for thousands of years.” he explains, setting down his paper and looking at you. your smile growing as you are now graced with a full, complete look of his eyes.
“you don’t see what i see.” he opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off just the same. “you don’t see how your eyes shine like rubies, that were meticulously handcrafted by someone with the expertise of generations. how your hair falls so softly, just so, framing your face as if da vinci himself set it there. you obviously don’t see, how you gracefully enter and exit a room or even cook and it’s like watching a trained dancer complete a routine.” you cross over to him and straddle his lap, tossing the paper on the table next to the couch.
“you are art, alastor. worth admiring and every minute i’m not, it’s a minute of my hellish life wasted.” you caress his cheeks as his eyes are wide.
“where were you when i was alive?” he asks, a look of sadness crossing his face.
“waiting to admire you.” you respond back easily and press a kiss to his cheek.
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sailormoonandme · 6 months
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Some of my Sailor Moon headcanons for your considerations:
Manga:
Before Beryl found them again, the reincarnated Shitennou were on occasion bumping into and being drawn in by Mamoru much the same way the Inners were with Usagi.
Kunzite worked as a security guard at one point, a job obviously not dissimilar to his role as body guard in the Silver Millennium. During one night shift he had an encounter with Tuxedo Mask.
Before Usagi became Sailor Moon, Sailor V and Tuxedo Mask also had an encounter similar to the one from the opening scene of PGSM. PGSM had input from Takeuchi and was originally intended to be a more faithful manga adaptation than the 1992 anime, so this is good enough for me to say it is essentially 'author approved'
The Thyron Crystal that Pharaoh 90 possesses was to the Tau Nebula what the Silver Crystal was to the Solar System. Basically, had Metalia's plans succeeded the Solar System would have wound up much the same as the Tau Nebula
Since Pharaoh 90 never knew about the Silver Crystal (whilst the other Chaos extensions did) and required Mistress 9 to act as a host body for him Pharaoh 90 was probably the first and most primitive of Chaos' creations
Nehalennia's 'curse' that Serenity would die was less her invoking an actual magic spell and more her sort of being cryptic about how Metalia was already lying in wait within the Sun
Princess Serenity/Usagi is an 'extension' of Queen Serenity, in much the same way Metalia, Nehalennia, etc are extensions of Chaos
The Amazon Stones that the Sailor Quartet wield are basically just their Star Seeds
It was Queen Serenity who implanted the Quartet's stones on Earth, concerned that if Serenity got pregnant, her future grandchild would need protectors
'Sailor Galaxia' is not an actual Senshi title. That was just a moniker the villain we know (and fear) adopted for herself as an act of aggrandisement. She should actually be Sailor
Anime
The Amazoness Quartet existed during the Silver Millennium and were originally the children of circus families
Usagi never turned back time when she restored Nehalennia to her childhood. She literally de-aged her just as she did with Hotaru and reconstituted the atoms of her entire Kingdom and people, resurrecting them completely
The Dark Kingdom was in fact a subterranean kingdom on Earth during the Silver Millennium. Its members were not human, but rather minerals made flesh through Metalia's evil energy, shaped by the collective dreams and nightmares of humanity
By extension 'Metalia' is in fact a mutilated pronunciation of 'mother' by the Youma.
Some Youma survived the fall of the Dark Kingdom at the end of season 1 and would go on to be the ancestors of the Black Moon Clan
Jadeite didn't die when the Dark Kingdom fell. In reality he lived on and eventually became Wiseman
When Neo-Queen Serenity salvaged the Earth from the great cataclysm that befell it, she invoked similar magic to the kind she used at the end of Season 1 and that Queen Serenity used in the Silver Millennium. As a result, she and her friends do not have 100% clear memories of their lives in the 20th century accounting for why they were blindsided by the Black Moon Clan's invasion
Following Nehalennia's second defeat, Setsuna moved in with Hotaru and Professor Tomoe
Because Galaxia's Star Seed was drawn to Usagi, it instinctively adopted a physical form that resembled both her and Chibi-Usa, accounting for why Usagi and the gang noticed similaried between ChibiChibi and Usagi/Chibi-Usa
In Crystal Tokyo, the gang have so thoroughly mastered their Senshi abilities that they can transform into any level that they desire, standard Senshi, Super Senshi, Eternal Senshi, etc. This is why in Season 2 we see them in their normal Senshi outfits despite them having unlocked their Super forms in the series.
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emperorbubblegum · 2 years
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Okay, now that I've cleared Olympus I've got some thoughts. This might be a long post and there's gonna obviously be spoilers so here's a cut
Alright so first, I'd like to preface this with saying that I never really liked Musashi. Historically speaking he's one of my favorite figures, and I'm glad that the one we know isn't the one from Proper Human History, but she just never really seemed that cool I guess. It might be because I haven't finished Shimousa yet, but she was annoying in Summer 4, and she felt unecessary in LB1.
Now that I've gotten that out of the way. Damn. I rarely cry, especially not in reaction to pieces of fiction, but damn did that one scene get me close. I knew something was going to happen, but holy fuck was that just... the exact amount of epic and tragic that I like in games. Honestly after that, I don't know if anyone could dislike her.
And on the topic of servants who've grown on me: I think Caenis is probably one of my favorite servants now. I love his final ascension's design, and his character really speaks to me. His fights weren't hard by any means (as stated in a previous post I'm loaded when it comes to sabers), but after Demeter (hardest boss in the game imo), Aphrodite (who I unga bunga bustered with Orion), and Wodime (stall strats for life), his fights were a refreshing break from both the previous challenging and easy bosses. Plus I summoned him in like two tickets immediately after I finished the last section, so, y'know.
I've never really liked the humans of the Fate series, because other than the Stay Night cast, they all pale in comparison to the servants. I mean, why wouldn't they? The servants are the stars of the show. However, Wodime Kirschtaria is such a fantastic villain.
He doesn't shit talk you the entire time you're fighting him. He doesn't blindly do what the Foreign God wants him to do. He isn't some weak ass bitch hiding behind his much stronger servants.
He regards you with respect, almost like an equal. He follows his own ideals that honestly, from a different point of view, are quite heroic in their own right. And to top it all of he's a master at combat, being able to take on Caenis, the Dioscuri, and even Zeus. He's formiddible enough to actually be considered a threat without being completely overpowered, provokes in a way that isn't just "woe is me, my backstory's tragic", and actually has a genuine motive that makes his entire plan that much more threatening - unlike, say, Beryl, who's just there to have fun - and in my opinion, that's what makes a good villain.
This is definitely the best chapter in FGO so far, and from what I've heard, Avalon's even better. I can't wait for future chapters, so I'm probably gonna try and play them on my JP account as soon as I can. As for NA right now, though, I'm probably going to just QP grind until the Anniversary to make sure I have enough for Castoria.
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eanul-rmbl · 1 year
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about Murr Hart and Murr the tomcat - timeline 1/2
Since Murr Hart is inspired a lot from the tomcat Murr in "The Life and Opinions of the Tomcat Murr", I'm going to do a timeline of what happens in the book and compare it to what happens to Murr in Mahoyaku!!!
To make it make sense (ahaha), I'll refer to the tomcat Murr as, the Tomcat, and Murr Hart as Murr.
This is Part 1, where we talk about Murr as a wizard scholar and the Tomcat's life inside his owner's attic. The fun stuff where we get to theorize about Murr's future will happen in part 2.
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1 - the Tomcat's birth and early years, Murr's early years
The Tomcat was born with his dad trying to eat him, his mom was forced to leave him somewhere. a little while after, a man named Abraham meets him somewhere and takes him in. this Abrahram soonly becomes the Tomcat's owner. to my memory, the Tomcat was a pretty normal cat in youth/very youngness.
We don't know much on Murr's early years. We do know that he dug up jewels for his family, who were jewlers (rich traveling merchants at that, apparently). His Magical Tool was cut and shaped himself in childhood (it's red beryl)
No known similarities here, Murr was born into a succesful human family while the Tomcat was adopted into (and I'm not sure if he's successful or not) a magician/soothsayer with ties to the royal family.
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2 - the Tomcat's turning point, Murr's life as a lunatic genius
The Tomcat, at some point, learns to read german inside his owner's study. Abraham (the owner) doesnt really mind at first, since the Tomcat's a cat and how does an animal learn to read. Eventually, the Tomcat becomes fluent enough to read and write german, and even understand his german-speaking owner Master Abraham. He writes several books and poems during his time as a tomcat scholar. Also he befriends a dog and I think that's cute since he's a cat and all. Murr doesnt leave the house.
Murr's life as a scholar was very successful. He had created a number of inventions for the Western Country to grow and thrive. He was a very successful scholar. Very famous and very feared. Known as the genius of the ages.
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3 - Falling in love
One night, someone was singing loud enough for the Tomcat to hear while he was trying to write something. He goes to investigate it and finds a wonderful cat named Kitty. They sing (but he sucks since he doesn't do much of anything) and this later becomes the Tomcat's love. Somewhere along the line, the Tomcat and Kitty start singing with another cat, M (his named starts with an M but I can't remember it). Kitty and the Tomcat later get married.
I don't know how Murr figured out he longed for the Moon, but that's his love as a wizard. It's his biggest subject of study.
I guess they both fell in love with something at night?
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4 - the pains with love
Shortly after getting married, Kitty starts growing more and more sad. The songs they sing together are lacking something. the Tomcat still loves Kitty and she accepts whatever he's doing, but he notices there's something wrong. the Tomcat eventually asks Kitty and she then reveals that she's been in love with another a while after their cat marriage. the Tomcat is hurt and proceeds to challenge said cat to a duel. Obviously, because the Tomcat hardly ever left the house, he lost the cat duel. his owner, Abraham patches him up and lets him know he should get out of the house and be an actual cat for once, not thinking the Tomcat can understand him.
Murr's main subject of study was the moon, who he longed for. When he got too close to learning her secrets, his soul shattered and was scattered across the 5 countries. His body remained, but his mind was similar to that of an animal's (in mannerisms, I assume). Shylock finds him as raises him.
They both have troubles with love, and are left shattered (physically or in the heart) because of it.
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5 - patching up
the Tomcat was very depressed for a very long time. he wouldn't really want to keep himself tidy (something he once prided himself on a lot), and didn't feel like doing much of anything. eventually, Abraham loses patience in him for a bit. his friend M (who he sang songs with kitty with) takes him to a cat fraternity.
We don't know how long it took for Murr to rehabilitate into someone who'd act half like a sensible person/ how long it took for Shylock to raise him.
The transition between completely shattered Murr and the catboy Murr we know and love. The transition between the very sad Tomcat scholar with a shattered heart and the actually-a-cat Tomcat he later becomes.
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basically, here are their similarities.
No known similarities in childhood, Murr was born into a succesful human family while the Tomcat was adopted into (and I'm not sure if he's successful or not) a magician/soothsayer with ties to the royal family. both rather disliked when they were scholars by people because of the way they acted above everyone else. both fell in love with something at night. left shattered after a rejection. It took a bit of time for both of them to start going out again.
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thessaliah · 2 years
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Meh
Arcade was really, really bad and underwhelming. I know I expected too much from an Arcade game, but Nasu being involved raised some expectations. Let me address some worst points underneath the cut:
Chaldea Mystery Goes Unresolved: Nothing is explained properly. They hint before to the final battle that this Chaldea isn’t the real one (echoing to Merlin in Camelot as warning to Bedivere only to trust the real Chaldea), using Chaldea under double quotations and brackets, yet (unless Mash’s Bond CE fills the gaps), nothing is actually explained. It creates more questions than answers including: why is Mash alive in 2017 without Cath Palug, why is Mash or Da Vinci even there without Roman (the condition Da Vinci stays, and why Mash survives at all), why is Chaldea even there at all without Roman or the Animuspheres (you know who made it?), why is a crap mage as Guda even chosen as Master without a sabotage to take down the previous candidates and more if there’s no “part 1 happened but their memories got erased.” And memories getting erased was even hinted by Merlin in the end (that they will forget this journey?) which is a drop line without a single explanation. There’s no explanation why says “Grand Order Recovered” instead of “Completed.” More superfluous mystery built up which has no payback at all. The OP song seems more confirmed to be for Mobile Mash’s arc, so I don’t know why was it used in Arcade at all. Terrible. Why was Chaldea here too? It feels like the Master and Mash did nothing and amounted to nothing in characterisation, it was all Arthur and Merlin and neither required their presence. They did nothing in the last battle. There was not even a debate with the Beast where the Beast obtains an “answer,” just some hilarious “discussion” about why they are fighting someone with obviously evil intentions with less depth than Beryl which is supposed to “troubled” them morally? 
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The lore is all over the place: Both Grand and Beast lore got completely trashed by the unnecessary introduction of G and S of Beast VI and pretending Merlin included them in a prophecy she told Arthur, which was what we read in Arthur’s quest years ago and nowhere Arthur nor Merlin mentions G and S. It reeks to Nasu retconning his lore again to shoehorn more scantly clad women as “final bosses” (playable, of course) instead of going with what was probably originally planned where R was described with a lingering “scent of roses” (so could have been Sodom/Draco) and L was “miasma (so would go to Proto Beast and Manaka), forgetting they called Proto/Fragment Beast “Sodom’s Beast” and Beast of the sea. The poor, inconsistent writing to try to create a plot for Arcade is just ridiculous.  Of course we still have Beast VI/G to deal with and means well, a sequel hook for Arcade. If it continues and might not. What will happen if it doesn’t? They’ll retcon Beast G as dying? She (because obviously will be another cringe scantily clad woman) will be killed on her way back to her home planet? Point “It was Angra Mainyu in Heaven’s Feel” so is defeated yay!” IDK. Grands are also inconsistent, why is Hassan a Grand again (why was he even here? He did nothing other than sass Sodom and add more mystery boxes or “ooh they knew each other!”)? Thus rendering his sacrifice to beat Tiamat void. Not only Arcade has bad writing, but its bad writing affects some of the mobile best chapters with its reek. And Noah could have been cool. I love how he says he can’t help anymore in Babylon and he appears again without 0 back-draws and consequences for what Draco did to him with “Yo, I brought Arthur with me!” also undermining the loss of Noah a chapter ago. This makes him way less cool, but also makes the Beast whose only on-screen feat was to eliminate that Grand, look really incompetent. Oh well.
(Next in FGO: Rasputin pours water on U-Olga and she starts to spawn multiple Beast parts which bounce around different spinoff, where “Chaldea” needs to fight Beast VII/A, Beast VII/B, Beast VII/C, Beast VII/D and more!).
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Worst Beast to date: Look, I really, really wanted to like her, but she’s a hot mess in a post U-Olga and Koyan setting where they are hot messes too. But at least they were hot messes from the beginning (U-Olga and her story isn’t yet over) or degraded over the time which gave me zero expectations (Koyan). The Harlot, though, I had big hopes for. Draco is a little better than Sodom, but not for much, and gets points subtracted by her awful design. Nero’s fursona fails to be a competent antagonist in all aspects: she’s pure tell, without any showing. There’s no backstory, no characterisation beyond “I’m Evil and Hungry lulz!” There’s no connection to the protagonists to make her get a meaningful role to influence and be influenced. She does absolutely nothing other than gloating and flashing her tits at us (nice chest but that would just make her a good hentai character not a final boss). Her only kinda impressive feat was Noah being taken out the board, only to have this made irrelevant a chapter after. Her actions despite trying to sabotage Noah ended up doing nothing since he does everything he’s supposed to do anyway? Noah doesn’t even require any miracle to return, Chaldea or the Master do nothing, he was just looking for Arthur so he arrived late. 
Now to elaborate most points. Old rule: show, don’t tell. You can tell me Sodom is some Universe Buster but if she does nothing to prove it other than tell me things she allegedly did off screen, she doesn’t build any sense of danger or despair. She’s all talk and no walk, and worst is when she clarifies she didn’t destroy the worlds, humanity did, so any past actions were just her eating despair and desire after humans wrecked some timeline. On the second point: Just like is important to showcase what your boss can do, it’s important to show us why, give us motivations, backstory, and something to relate to the protagonists. Time Temple battle is so memorable because of Goetia’s connection to the people who fight against him. Olympus climax is so memorable because of Kirschtaria’s connection.  Even with Olympus all over the place writing, everyone agrees the climax of the Crypter arc is really a powerful moment. They would be memorable climaxes to remember, while Arcade climax is completely unmemorable and partly is because Sodom has no connection or resonates with anyone around. They tried to shoehorned this with Merlin and still didn’t click. An antagonist to be memorable also requires them to be some compelling character first. Sodom works as a midboss or throwaway villain, but not as an arc final boss which is supposed to wrap the take away from this story. Not in the way they wrote her. Fluffing her with supposed off-screen deeds and powers does not make your antagonist (be a villain or a rival): that’s why Kotomine is better than Angra Mainyu or Gilgamesh as final boss for FSN. Even Kiara with is as wicked as Sodom had this in Seraphix conclusion, by paralleling her to Melt. Now it’s unfair because Arcade has little lines, but it just felt absolutely shallow. The ending in general looked like a dummies’ version of Time Temple/Babylonia combined without their heart. Which also leads us to the other point of why she fails as antagonist: there was never a sense of danger, stakes or anything during the entire fight. We don’t see anyone even getting injured or in despair or in trouble, they are, well, calm? Remember Babylonia? Remember Time Temple? Even Ooku and Seraphix had this. Merlin even hilariously lampshades this:
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What was even the point lmao. There was nothing memorable about the final battle and the fault lies on Sodom being a good for nothing antagonist in execution. The way the boss is written and is presented carries the resolution. All would have been solved if Merlin didn’t send Arthur away to gatekeep him from one shooting this Beast early on for no reason but horrible plot she wanted to be amused. All that Biblical background possibility and nothing is really brought up to spice things. There’s not even clarification if she’s Nero or just a Pseudo Servant Nero like Kama is Sakura Pseudo. Her Welfare’s Final Art has the Draco constellation in the background which gives her a completely unrelated mythological source to the Bible and Nero. And her region is “Europe” so again, vaguely displaces her from her Abrahamic connection of the slide. The source being FGO seals her as an Original Character instead of a historical or legend one, but one without background to justify her existence and makes her compelling. 
Nasu demonstrates once more his ideas are hit or miss. This could have been great, he had all the ingredients but really mess when he tried to cook them.
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a-tale-of-legends · 2 years
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I have to point out the hilarity.
Canon Johto protags + silver ( in Masters anyway):
Ethan- Lugia
Lyra- Celebi
Kris- Suicune
Silver- Ho-Oh
My ocs:
Kenji- Ho-Oh
Aiko- Lugia
Beryl- Suicune
Silver- Celebi
I MEAN OBVIOUSLY THEY'RE OCS ITS GONNA BE DIFFERENT BUT I STILL FIND IT SO FUNNY.
Kris and Beryl are literally the only ones that share a legendary 😂
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yourwitchmama · 3 years
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21 Crystals and Their Meanings From a Long Time Crystal Witch
I tried really hard to make the descriptions as short as I could, but obviously, some are a lot longer than others. I have been working with crystals for seven years, and I want to share my knowledge with you about some well known stones that are mostly easily attainable. 
Agate – Comes in many shapes, sizes, and colors. This means that agate can typically have many different properties, though most of them are grounding. 
Angelite – To communicate with angels and the more etheric higher realm. This is connected with the Crown Chakra. 
Amber – A potent healing crystal for the Solar Plexus, Sacral, and Crown Chakras. This crystal is also a powerful protector, aligning your everyday self to higher spiritual realms. It is a valuable tool for tapping into ancient wisdom, recalling past lives, and breaking negative patterns. 
Amethyst – Connects to the third eye chakra. It enhances psychic protection, psychic abilities, and is particularly good for empaths who are easily affected by other’s energy. 
Aquamarine – Associated with the Throat chakra, Aquamarine helps overcome the fear of speaking, and is an excellent stone for teachers and presenters of all types. Its element is water, and is also associated with intellect. 
Beryl – Is great for healing and strengthening the body’s entire vibrational field. It activates and opens the Root and Heart Chakras, creating the perfect balance of love, compassion, and creative force. Also great for scrying and decision making. 
Bloodstone –  Bloodstone is a stone of courage and wisdom, and is thought that the red dots in it symbolize the blood of Jesus after his crucifixion. It stimulates the urge toward Christ consciousness, and is also great for the Root Chakra and also wards away bullies. 
Carnelian – Carnelian encourages acceptance of the cycle of life and helps remove the fear of death. As an ancient stone, it was used to protect the dead on their journey to the afterlife. It gives courage and promotes positive life choices. This is associated with the Sacral Chakra.
Celestite – is a gentle but powerful crystal of celestial connection, expanding the consciousness to receive wisdom from the Divine Source as well as communication and protection from the angelic realm. It strengthens the Throat Chakra and aids in fear of public speaking and shyness. 
Citrine – is an excellent crystal for those who are overly sensitive and extremely vulnerable to outside energies and influences. This is also a stone that transforms anxiety into positive energy and happiness. This is a great stone for depression, and aids the Solar Plexus and Sacral chakras. This crystal will also ward away bullies. 
Fluorite – Comes in different colors and is a highly sought after stone. This crystal can aid the Throat Chakra, Heart Chakra, Third Eye Chakra, and crown chakra depending on its color. Fluorite is a multi-dimensional crystal manifesting the highest aspect of the mind: attunement to Spirit. It heightens intuitive powers, and awakens one to the purity and perfection of the universe and how each individual fits into that perfect plan. This crystal is used in astral projection and communication with aliens and interdimensional beings.
Lapis Lazuli -  Activates the psychic centers at the Third Eye, and balances the energies of the Throat Chakra. Lapis is one of the oldest spiritual stones known to man, used by healers, priests and royalty, for power, wisdom and to stimulate psychic abilities and inner vision. It represents universal truth. Lapis quickly releases stress, allowing for peace and serenity. Placed over the third eye, Lapis expands awareness and conscious attunement to the intuitive self, stimulating enlightenment and enhancing dream work. Also increases intelligence. 
Moldavite – one of the most rare and powerful stones. It is easy to find fake ones, and real ones come at a very high price and are easily broken. This is a tektite (a stone from meteor impacts) This stone stimulates the Third Eye, Crown, and Heart chakras, which are the three most spiritual chakras. Moldavite is a talisman sent to Earth for spiritual awakening, transformation and evolutionary growth. It facilitates strong, clear, and direct connection between one's consciousness and the Universal Source. With its own cosmic oversoul, Moldavite has an ability to connect with Ascended Masters and cosmic messengers (aliens, multidimensional beings), and draw into the Earth plane those thought patterns and light vibrations which are most beneficial for ascension and illumination.
Moonstone – Connected to the Crown Chakra, Moonstone is moonstone was the stone of the gods and goddesses in India, of hope and spiritual purity through denial of the ego. It combats materialism and strengthens the faith of religious people in all cultures. This is a stone that connects you to lunar and angelic realms. 
Onyx – A grounding crystal that is connected to the Root Chakra. Onyx teaches the appropriate use of power and focusing one’s energy and will into a positive force to avoid corruption. It is an excellent tool for grounding and connecting with the electromagnetic energy of the Earth, as well as facilitating alignment with Higher powers for guidance and strength.
Quartz (clear) – Because Clear Quartz has the prismatic ability to vibrate its energy at all of the color frequencies, it not only harmonizes all of the chakras, but can teach us how to vibrate our seven chakra centers simultaneously while maintaining perfect alignment with the light. Clear Quartz crystal is unique, each with its own personality, lessons, and experiences. The crystals attracted into one's life are stones that will in some way help facilitate personal growth and awareness. They may work subliminally in unawakened minds, and it enhances your subconscious desires, which can be disastrous with people who have not done shadow work. For those spiritually attuned to the universe, Quartz crystals are like beacons of light and positive energy to be used in daily thoughts, feelings, words and actions and integrated onto the earth. 
Rose Quartz –  Is connected to the Heart Chakra. Rose Quartz is feminine in tone and one of the stones of the Great Mother. It not only activates the human Heart Chakra, it also links with the heart of the Earth and the heart of the Universe. Its vibrations can penetrate down to the cellular level and reprogram cells for joy and longevity rather than despair and death. It encourages the dissolution of anger and resentment, fear and suspicion, and brings the Light of healing, the rebirth of hope and faith in the benevolence of the Universe. This stone can also be used to heal wounds from past lovers and is useful in love magick. Pregnant mothers also use this stone to calm and send love to their baby.
Selenite -  Resonates with the Crown Chakra located at the top of the head. Selenite brings divine light into everything it touches and stimulates the clearest state of mind attainable, where all thoughts entering the consciousness come from the Source and are direct reflections of pure spirit. It is one of the best crystals available for clearing congested energies or negativity from one’s physical and etheric body, and for helping one consciously connect with the Higher Self. This crystal has such pure light energy that you do not need to cleanse it, and it will cleanse other crystals around it. 
Tigers Eye – Stimulates the Root, Sacral, and Solar Plexus chakras. Tiger’s Eye resonates with the frequencies of the Earth and provides a warm, stable energy for prayers and meditation, and stimulating contact with the vibrational realm of Christ consciousness. It engenders peacefulness and beauty, and connects with the spiritual power of the sun as nourishment for the soul. Tiger’s Eye enables the ability to remember dreams and to use dreamtime for spiritual advancement, sparking imagination, intuition, and opening up psychic talents in earthy people through Third Eye activity. This crystal has masculine energy and promotes self control and self evaluation. 
Tourmaline – Is devoted to grounding spiritual energies, bringing a clearer expression of Light into the world and into the lives of those drawn to its powers. It furthers the ability to remain radiant in the darkest of circumstances, and to maintain a spiritual consciousness while living among those who are not always in the Light and do not understand the love of the universe. This is a highly protective stone against negative entities and repels negative energy.  Turquoise – In traditional thought, Turquoise unites the earth and sky, bringing together male and female energies. Spiritually, Turquoise heals and cleanses both the energy centers and the physical body. It acts to induce wisdom and understanding, and to enhance trust, kindness, and the recognition of beauty. It helps resolve arguments, particularly between you and your partner. This is associated with the Throat Chakra and the Third Eye Chakra
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What exactly are your thoughts on The Crypters? Do you like them, hate them, or don't really care that much about them?
Group as a whole (except Daybit) is just dumbass who actually think Alien God cares about their humanity plan when they absolutely don't at all. But in the end it's neutral because they have their own reasons to fight and preserve.
Yet not an excuse obviously to wipe the whole humanity. For Wodime, while I do respect his acts to help Gudas and stuff. His motive of evolving humanity is selfish-minded to think its for the better. When it isn't, there's a reason in history everywhere why we ended up separated from the divinity... Whether better or worse, up to individual's own opinion
They'd be prosecuted as criminals if death didn't take them. But I do like who they are each individually (including Daybit excluding Beryl, the latter can still rot to hell)
Overall, while still neutral, they are interesting to see more of Magus side again. And actual fight to fight scene of Master vs Master in Arc 2, where there wasn't any in Arc 1
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rainofaugustsith · 3 years
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SWTOR: Women Characters and Betrayal
Something I realized today: With only three exceptions I can identify (Satele Shan, Crysta Markon and Shae Vizla), every single really strong woman with agency in the game that has a pivotal role in the PC's story is depicted as a betrayer or someone who has lied to those who gave them responsibility about major issues. It's as though they had not figured out how to write women without making them either exhibit some treachery, inspire some level of distrust, or have little agency.
SPOILERS FOR EVERY CLASS STORY, SHADOW OF REVAN, KOTFE, KOTET, THE TRAITOR ARC AND OSSUS
Kira Carsen (Jedi Knight): Child of the Emperor. Obviously not her fault and she consciously throws off the Emperor's influence, but they do set her up as "oooh, she's got an evil side!"
Master Yuon (Jedi Consular): Part of the group that abandoned Parkanas Tark on Malachor III. Dread Master Brontes: Turns on the Empire to the point where the Empire sends people to hunt her down and stop her damage. Dread Master Bestia: Turns on the Empire to the point where the Empire sends people to hunt her down and stop her damage. Risha Drayen (smuggler): Some of the NPCs you meet don't ever want to see Risha again because she screwed them over so badly. She does show her loyalty to the smuggler in the confrontation with Nok Drayen, and from then on, but she's still left people like Beryl Thorne in her wake. Raina Temple (Imperial Agent): Raina hasn't lied to the PC, but she's lied to the Sith about being Force sensitive. Kaliyo Djannis (Imperial Agent): Her entire companion storyline is about all the people she's betrayed or reneged on agreements with. She almost does that to the PC, too. They continue this theme in KOTFE by showing her betraying the Overwatch chief, lying to the PC about her true intentions (bombing the city) and getting emails from disgruntled people she's burned. Senya: Does a literal 180 and goes from supporting the Alliance to rescuing the person they're trying to kill and depose. Also lures the PC into an ambushed "trial" with the Scions which damages HK-55. Lana Beniko: Famously, arranges for Theron to be captured by the Revanites during Shadow of Revan. Chancellor Saresh: If you're Imperial, Saresh has reason to kill you already. But if you're a Republic PC in KOTET, Saresh may have worked well along side you - and she tries to kill you and take over the Alliance anyway. Empress Acina: Goes from "the new Sith Empire isn't treacherous, I have no reason to try to betray you" to searching for superweapons on Iokath. Darth Zash (Sith Inquisitor): Literally tries to steal the PC's body. General Garza (Trooper): Havoc Squad 1.0 defected because she left them behind. And the way she treats the hapless victims of Eclipse Squad could be considered betrayal too. DS Jaesa (Sith Warrior): After telling the Sith Warrior "I'll never try to kill you and will always support you," her return involves her slaughtering the PC's troops on Iokath, trying to kill Lana Beniko (who may be the PC's wife or SO at that point) and trying to inflict as much pain as possible on the PC. LS Jaesa (Sith Warrior): Is allowed to stay in Gnost-Dural's sanctuary on Ossus because she sold out the Sith Warrior by telling Gnost-Dural all their secrets. Elara Dorne (trooper): Technically not a betrayal, but if the trooper goes Imperial on Iokath, Dorne says that she wishes they were dead and actively helps Jace Malcom try to kill them. SCORPIO: I don't really need to explain this one, do I? Ashara Zavros (Sith Inquisitor): Calls the Jedi to ambush the PC when they go to meet Zavros's ghost.
Like...do they even know how to write women without having them be depicted in some way as untrustworthy?
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hilo--keahi · 3 years
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RICHES OF A LOWRANKER hilo keahi’s brave new world
FAMILY With a love blessed by Aphrodite herself, it’s a wonder Hilo and Ara even bothered to wait months before being betrothed, and even more of a wonder they waited some months after that to be officially wed. Honoring their love at the temple of the Goddess who’d done the same on Airang, Hilo spared little attention for the temple’s ornate decorations, or the rose petals strewn on the floor indicative of their encounter with the Goddess -- he only had eyes for his stunning wife, eyes that pricked with tears as they said their vows. Not the first time for Hilo, but most assuredly the last.
Ara’s subsequent pregnancy was both a time of great joy and doting for Hilo, as well as fraught with concern -- the course of it was difficult, and though Ara and Hilo didn’t want to place too-soon expectations on their unborn child, Hilo spent much of his time quietly comparing Ara’s symptoms and complaints to his own mother’s. Particularly late-term, Hilo grew more and more certain: their child was a Strongarm.
Once confirmed, the knowledge was met with an enormity of complicated feelings on Hilo’s part. Elation, first and foremost: their child would be strong, and healthy, and carry on the Keahi Strongarm genes that had too long lay dormant in his family. But so too did he worry: his own relationship with his fragile human mother was complicated, often wracked with guilt for how often he’d hurt her when he couldn’t yet speak, form coherent thought, or understand his touch was too much. Determined not to let this become an insurmountable gap between mother and child, Hilo knew he’d have to work as a delicate go-between, training the inexperienced Strongarm from earliest possible age.
They welcomed Lana Alamea in February, appropriately close to Airang, and Hilo could do nothing but weep for joy as he held his strong, tiny daughter in his arms. This was a family he’d long since given up hope of having, borne of a love that’d taken him far too long to deem himself worthy of. He held Lana close to his chest and pressed a lingering kiss to Ara’s sweat-dotted forehead, mixing with droplets of his elated tears.
WORK Hilo still plies his trade at the Forge, though his hours have been close to halved in order to have the time he needs to care for and spend time with his daughter -- much to the mixed feelings of his master, Bestram Beryl. Despite complaints -- nothing new, on the dwarf’s part -- the master smith still gifts Hilo with the occasional toy for his young daughter, masterfully crafted to withstand the strength of a fledgeling Strongarm. A mixed blessing, for the additional damage these toys now render their oblivious daughter capable of. Hilo views the gifts as both a soft spot in Bestram’s armor and a statement of passive-aggressive protest, endearing all the same.
When Hilo is home and has the time to spare, he works at a small forge constructed in the Keahi-Moon household backyard. Since their first Airang together he’s picked up jewelry making as a hobby, still terribly clumsy at it but enjoying the challenge all the same. Every now and then he produces a piece worth selling to one of Ara’s Diamond cohorts. As time goes on he also begins to use it as a training tool -- Desta will visit to expand on her apprenticeship, already far more adept at and with much nimbler fingers for crafting delicate pieces. Hilo is proud of her and her improvement over the past three years, and secretly counts down the days he’ll be able to start showing Lana the same work.
POLITICS When Hilo heard Mallick was forming a council, one of the goals of which was to focus on outreach, Hilo was quick to volunteer. He’d been left to feel like dead weight in his own faction for so long that he didn’t want other lowrankers to feel the same, and Mallick was a trusted family friend he knew would have care for the lowranked. Relieved that Mallick would still have the same trust to grant him a place on the Ace’s council, Hilo approached the assignment with all the enthusiasm of a lifelong Club, with pride enough left in his faction to believe it could do better.
Hilo’s council appointment isn’t without its conflict, particularly in light of his marriage to an Ace of Diamonds. Those who know Hilo and Ara firsthand and have witnessed the depth of their love are able to see it as Hilo would hope: a bridge between factions, between high- and lowranked, a promise that the things that divide them don’t have to. Those with far less trust and understanding view him as a liability at best, and a threat at worst. It bothers Hilo more than he might let on, their mistrust, but it doesn’t stop him from doing the work he deems all-important.
The flipside of that conflict is, obviously, the inevitable separation of work and home; of the all-important labor he and Ara both do for their factions, but by nature can’t speak to the other about. It hurts him to keep things from her, but Hilo knows she feels the same way. As time passed and they settled into their respective appointments, the Keahi-Moon household prided themselves on their ability to leave politics at the door -- even if it meant that there were times Hilo was left kissing the worry from Ara’s brows and smoothing it from her cheeks with his thumbs without knowing why.
SPIRITUALITY There are two shrines in the Keahi-Moon household bringing back the honoring of the Old Gods: a shrine to Aphrodite, meticulously tended to and meditated on by both husband and wife, often together ( when baby Lana permits it, by having a longer nap ). A second shrine, one which Hilo alone attends to, is devoted to Fuku.
Hilo is careful to pay this shrine the same amount of attention he does Aphrodite's, even if he hasn’t been granted a visit or even whispered words from Fuku in some time. As he meditates, Hilo’s thoughts often drift to the difficult conversation he’d had with HIM those many months ago, and the equally difficult emotions stirred by finally, definitively learning the source of his curse. Even as his thoughts stray, though, he doesn’t let them taint his meditations; he remembers Fuku’s words of warning not to call his name in vain. Frustrated as Hilo may be not to understand the full breadth of why HIM did what he did, he doesn’t have it in him to hold a grudge. There will be no curses of retaliation from Hilo’s lips, not even whispered in private.
THE FUTURE Simply put, all Hilo wants from the next five, ten, seventy years of his life is more of the same. His 100th birthday saw the beginnings of a family he’d long since given up on having, and a heart full of nothing but warmth and pride for his wife and everything she’s also accomplished.
( His only hope is that, even in light of inevitable difficulties from their firstborn, she’s not thoroughly dissuaded from a second child. Or a third… but Hilo will tread carefully across that bridge when they come to it. )
Not so naive as to think peace will last forever in Kadeu -- he hasn’t lived a century without learning his handfuls of hard truths -- Hilo is still determined to do all he can to improve things where he can, for his family and especially for his daughter. He can only hope that as Lana grows she’ll take the love between her parents as a benchmark, and the hard work they both do for their factions as encouragement to do the same.
Hilo Keahi is still an undeniable optimist, and can’t help but have hope for the future.
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docholligay · 3 years
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For the rewrite: You get to rewrite D-Point/S1 finale but in a way that it could still fit into where the rest of the series goes and R could start as normal. How would you do it?
UGH. So basically I have to keep the weird false divide between inners and outers. FURI YOU LOATHE ME. This is obviously only part of it, as, uh, I am long-winded and love a bit of drama, but 1800 words. please enjoy
The wind whirled grey across that empty arctic plain. Well, not quite empty. If rei had been turned another direction, she would have seen Ami’s body, perched on a mound of ice, there in the far background from where Mina had dragged them both away from the scene, as if her own element were constructing a tomb to her. She knew without seeing that Ami would be dressed in that loose grey sweater and awkward green skirt that came down to her calves, a pair of loafers on her feet. It was what she had been wearing last time they’d transformed. The uniform leaves, when a senshi dies. 
She’d found that out with Mako. 
Rei hadn’t seen Ami die. She hadn’t needed to. It had, like she’d said, afforded Rei and Mina the time to move forward along that plain, trying to find the place where they could enter the lair where Beryl was said to sit, on this desolate patch of earth that might have been beautiful, thousands of years ago, when it was the seat of power for the earth, but now was as lifeless as everything else behind them. 
Mina’s nose was in the air, as if she could smell anything but the bright cold of the wind. As if she could hear anything but that howling which might have been the same wind, but just as likely might have been Usagi. It could have been Rei’s own soul, too, she supposed. 
She wanted to melt all of it. She wanted to take her arms off from around Usagi, put her hands together, and bring it all to dirt. How foolish they would be, bringing a fire maiden to the ice, not knowing what sort of powers she contained. She was the ace in the hole, she knew. She was the strongest one, here, if her pride did not allow her to remember that might not be true everywhere. 
MIna stepped back from her lookout and glanced over to Rei and Usagi. “Sailor Moon. Princess.” Usagi looked up at her, tears half-frozen on her cheeks, “We have to keep going. If we stay here, they’ll find us straightaway.” 
Rei wanted to protest, but only in the way that she wanted the girl before her to be Mina and not Venus. She had never mastered that in the same way Mina had, to be two people in one body. She was always Rei, and Mars was only ever Rei with the fire at her fingertips instead of her heart. Mina was warm and bright, if a bit annoying--a neon light, flashing in the cool darkness--but Venus was sheer steel, cold and unrelenting. 
Usagi began wailing. 
“But, but--” she took a deep breath, and coughed against the cold, “Am--” 
“Sailor Mercury did her duty. It would be worst disrespect to her death not to do ours.” She looped the chain at her waist, tightening it as she went to move forward. “It’s getting closer to the surface, over that way.” 
Rei hadn’t known Mina very long, as a practical matter. It was only recently that Rei had come to see her as anything other than a usurper, strolling into the group and declaring herself the military commander of the entire operation. Luna had said nothing to disagree, simply called her Commander Venus as Rei glared. 
“I am the commander,” Mina had sipped at her tea, eyes sparking in the way they often did when she and Rei were alone, something that tugged onto Rei and made her keep looking. She blamed the moon. “But you are the personal bodyguard. You are the last one standing, because that’s your job.” 
“Who decided that anyway?” Rei had scowled across the table, Mina leaning toward her, those clever eyes searching her too deeply, “You? You just think you can show up and--” 
She’d laughed. “Oh, I don’t decide anything.” She looked up out the window to the sky. “This is so far beyond you and me.” 
Rei went to protest that it didn’t have to be that way, that nothing was beyond her exactly, but Mina never gave her the opportunity. 
“Don’t you want to protect Usagi?” MIna had come just a little closer to her, and she could smell that near-syrup sweetness, like peaches in a can, “Can’t you feel that you should? Why do you think that is.” 
“That’s different.” Rei said, both then and now, Mina and Usagi both looking at her suddenly. 
“What is?” Mina had her hands on her hips. 
Rei shook her head, but did not remove her arms from Usagi’s side. “Let’s go.” 
The terrain was not so flat as it looked, and Usagi stumbled as she cried, protesting that Rei and Mina didn’t care about their friends, neither of them rising to the occasion. Even now, Usagi did not seem to realize that this was it. This was the grand battle for which they had been reborn, this was the one they had to win. Every battle leading up to this had only ever been dress rehearsal. 
It was not Ami and Mako at risk, but the world entire. 
Mina stopped, putting her hand on Rei’s chest to pause her, but flashing her a grin that was beyond Venus as she did so. There was a glow in the earth, here, just barely, if you looked beyond the snow. Anyone else might have walked past it, might have stepped over it, but Mina put her hand down onto it, and it pulsed beneath her hand. 
There was a rumble, and a crack, and Mina pushed them both back, grabbing to the chain at her side and beginning to swing. Usagi whimpered, again, and Mina turned back to the two of them, chain still gliding in golden figure eight over her head, as if it were a crown all her own. 
“You have to go.” Mina’s eyes looked greyer, somehow, in this light, “Take her and head for the point on the far horizon. You have to get her there, Mars.” 
Usagi tried to pull away from Rei’s heat, to no avail. 
“Venus! We can’t leave you!” She began to cry again, her whimpering cry mixing with that same cold wind and drilling into Rei’s ears. “You can’t die too!”
“No,” she shook her head, “you can’t die, Princess. You’re the key. You’ve always been the key.” 
Rei saw, in that moment, that it was never going to be otherwise. This was always how it ended. It was always Mars, bow on her back, taking the princess where she needed to be. Even if they won. Even if they failed. She was always the last one standing, always the final line of defense, and it was always her fire that protected the princess. The fire hadn’t shown her that before. It had never been close enough to see by its light. 
Before Usagi could say otherwise, the ground burst open, and two of the youma guards popped out, mouths wide with delight and fury as they careened toward the three. MIna’s chain curved in a broad arc in the air, and came down, wrapping around a youma’s arm, twisting it back as she drew the chain in. But the other youma was fast approaching, and Mina was forced to step back, hurtling one youma into the other with a fierce swing of the chain. 
She turned her head. 
“Go!” 
Rei stammered for a moment, unsure in a way that felt wrong and less stable than the crust of snow beneath her feet. But what about you? She wanted to say. If we leave you, you’ll die, and she saw Mina leaning over the table again, and she felt her body close in, and she could barely draw a breath at this moment, everything that might have been burning in the fire of what was to be. 
Mina whipped the chain over her, moving deftly as she looped in around her neck and rerouted it, sparking one and then the other with its tip, blood beginning to tear from the two of them. Her violence was poetry, Rei thought, the chain her pen. She was nothing like the rest of them, stronger than Ami, more elegant than Mako, and, though she would only ever allow this in though, perhaps more clever than Rei herself. She was a creature created for this moment, a valkyrie of the long odds. 
They staggered back, weapons drawn, unsure of how to handle this unusual weapon. 
Mina looked back, blonde hair whipping in the wind, eyes narrowed. 
“Go or I will kill you myself.” 
Rei nodded, in that, the first command from Mina for which she had no moment to question or balk, and for which she felt no drive to do so. She took Usagi by the shoulders, her cries fading into the background against the shoosh of Mina’s chain. 
As Rei started to move away, the youmas rushed at Mina, trying to flank her from the sides, but Mina was too quick and too studied, whipping the chain around her and knelling to the ground, catching them both with the end of it, howls as they furiously took another blow before they could turn to run, but un they did, escaping back down the hole in the ice. 
“Have to go after them, unsettle the place.” MIna grinned back to Rei, and blew a kiss. “Think of me, fireball.” 
Rei hated the nickname instantly. Rei hoped she would say it again. But she became Venus again. 
“Princess. Your duty to the world is at hand. Do it.” 
She did not wait for a reply, simply whipped the chain above her and disappeared down the hole. As Rei dragged Usagi away, still crying and screaming, Rei fought back tears of her own, hearing the fighting below them, hearing the thunderous roar of the troops coming to aid, knowing that Mina would die down there, bloody and bruised, her body broken in a horrible, dark, cold cave at the end of nowhere. 
There was the entrance up ahead. Mina was right, they were scattered, they assumed the senshi had all entered together, they had not thought of it as Mina had, as Venus always would, and now was their moment. 
“CRESCENT!!! BEAM!!!!” She heard echoing on the tundra behind her, and then there was a grand explosion, the tearing and rending of the earth behind them, and Rei and Usagi looked back to see a golden crest in the sky, rocks and dirt and snow flying from where she had blown apart the tunnel she was in, a sudden still silence filling the air, a fine red mist settling into perfect ruby snowflakes into that same wind, and whispering out toward she and Usagi. 
Usagi screamed. It might have been Mina’s name, or Venus’, but it was a tuneless thing and might have been neither of them at all. 
Onward. Make it worth it. 
She grabbed Usagi’s arm, and pulled.
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sillydoctor · 3 years
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nono listen listen your ideas are not embarrassing they are GENIUS and you're so right. even pre-romani solomon would definitely be bad enough, and as I am sure you already know from solomon's legends, the guy had a uh, bit of a ruthless streak, even when taking actions that benefitted the "greater good." like, his first grouping of actions after he ascended to the throne ALONE can be seen as monstrous enough for the job when cast under a certain light. one can only imagine what actually was meant when texts say he "cleared out his court" of all his father's scheming bureaucrats, after all, and I am sure both adonijah and joab would call the man cold to say the least. the only trouble is that should solomon's more calculating side be called upon, beryl would have to watch himself. the wise king has no patience for tyrants and snakes, and that pretty sword on his hip isn't just for show. beryl's only saving grace, if it saved him at all in the end, would be how deep and true his idea of "love" is, even if that love is warped and cruel. and even then, there is a reason solomon's enemies went to such great lengths to undermine him and his legacy. the man was as brutal and cunning as his father yet as patient and diplomatic as his mother. bad combo for any master looking to use their servant for nefarious ends. it'd be just as likely that beryl would find himself on the sharp end of the king's "mercy," that soft smile affixed on his face even has his golden eyes burned with the desire to delicer his master to the only everlasting peace he knows of: a swift and bloody grave. (and who is solomon if not a man who honors his father? who is he if not a man who strives to live up to the name given to him?)
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Oh, wow, I see you got pretty inspired by that silly idea of me :D But no, I'm not genius I just let everything out of my brain without thinking xD
Aaanyway, you bet Adonijah was frightened by Solomon on that day. Like, I think he was like "i bet he's like father and he won't notice my plan, haha, look he sits there so calmly". But Solomon can and will listen people talking, trying to deceive or trick him. He will even smile and nod, just to make you believe you're gonna be successful, then the next moment he will just casually kill you. He is quick to realize something is up with the other.
Although, as a servant I think he's pretty obedient, understanding well his role in a Master-Servant contract. BUT, you're right, I forgot something in my last post about this silly idea of Beryl-Solomon duo.
I think the reason Solomon didn't question Marisbury's decisions during the holy grail war was that he didn't feel any ill intention in his master's orders. Like, okay, burning down the whole city is obviously bad, but Sol knows well they are in a war and they need to win.
However, if he'd feel anything wrong in his master (for example, Beryl) orders, he probably wouldn't be so cooperative. Hell, I can see him turning against a master like this, like Cu did with Kotomine.
And now I wonder if Sol powerful enough to have resistance over command seals, because as a grand caster, as the most powerful mage in history, I believe he'd be able to resist and it sounds really cool >w>
Aaaanyway, if you're a master with good intention, Solomon will do anything for you and be like your meek big sheep. But if you're a master will ill goals... Well, he will be like on that day, with Adonijah: he will listen to you with a smile and kill you the next moment he can.
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sailormoonandme · 3 years
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My theory on Usagi's Princess Serenity form+the Silver Crystal
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In the anime it always intrigued me that Usagi adopted her Serenity attire in when she was essentially trying to pull off a miracle. Whilst I reserve the right to be corrected on this if there is some official canon to the contrary (it's been awhile since I watched the series), I've always taken this to be essentially another transformation Usagi adopts.
Essentially when the situation is truly, truly dire and she needs to access as much power from the Silver Crystal as possible she turns into Serenity.
If you want to get pseudo-scientific about it I figure the Silver Crystal is an object that essentially enables the user to warp reality to their will, provided they fuel it with enough 'emotional energy', the downside being that this can essentially drain your life force.*
This is why the act of sealing away Metalia and reincarnating everyone thousand of years into the future killed Queen Serenity even though she was a literal Goddess. Equally it is why Usagi could essentially have a wish granted at the end of season 1. In season 2 Wiseman was using essentially an evil counterpart to the Silver Crystal, hence it took 2 Silver Crystals to take him out.
Essentially the Silver Crystal's power when used to its fullest can generate the most positive results the user wants. And Usagi only draws upon the deeper depths of its power as Serenity.
So basically Princess Serenity is her actual most powerful form. Which then raises a few questions
a) Why does she even need her Super Sailor Moon or Eternal Sailor Moon forms for?
b) If she has this kind of power as Serenity why did she beat Pharaoh 90 as Super Sailor Moon
c) By extension I guess what is the big deal about the Holy Grail?
d) If we accept that Super Sailor Moon outclasses princess Serenity (as implied by season 3) why did Usagi use her Serenity form at the end of seasons 4-5?
The first question is relatively easily answered. Not only is her Serenity form a last resort but its also rather overkill for the regular monsters of the week and isn't necessarily optimised for combat. I guess we could argue the same of all her forms, but comparatively speaking she can move more freely as regular Sailor Moon than Serenity.
The answers to the other questions are rather interlinked.
First of all I'd argue that the Holy Grail is ultimately an artefact that simply boosts the user's powers to a massive degree. It's like an 'external battery' if you will. This is why it was bad news for any of the bad guys to get ahold of it but also why Usagi was able to become Super Sailor Moon without it. In SuperS she attains the form using Pegasus' power, so in essence his Golden Crystal is substituting for the Grail as Usagi's 'external battery'.
Super Sailor Moon was always a form she had the potential to reach on her own but the Grail was just a shortcut. Same thing with Eternal Sailor Moon, which is why initially she needed the combined power of the other Senshi to attain that form before being able to do it on her own. During season 3 and the first 6 episodes of season 5 we can clearly see that turning into Super Sailor Moon and Eternal Sailor Moon respectively taxes Usagi; she cannot maintain the forms. But over time she adjusts and they become second nature to her.
Second of all I put to you that the power Usagi wields in her Serenity form is essentially scaled to how naturally powerful she is at that particular time. This is alluded to at the end of season 1 when Beryl/Metalia references Usagi not having full control or mastery over the crystal and arguably why Usagi's 'princess training' was relevant. Essentially as Usagi grows as a person the power she has as Serenity grows in turn.
But in season 3 the Holy Grail, being an external power source, essentially meant her power was temporarily jumping way beyond what her Serenity form would've been naturally capable of at that time. Which is why it was more useful against Pharaoh 90 at the end of season 3. However, by season 4 Super Sailor Moon had become her default Senshi form, she'd in essence 'mastered' it meaning her Serenity form was therefore 'scaling' off of that.
This would then be why transforming from Super Sailor Moon into Serenity enabled her to catch up to the falling Chibi-Usa. Realistically the dress would make that more difficult due to wind resistance but like I said the Silver Crystal warps reality to the user's will, and Usagi willed herself to catch up with Chibi-Usa at that moment. By extension once Eternal Sailor Moon became her default form her Serenity form became way more powerful, making it the best bet against Galaxia who was obviously stronger than Pharaoh 90.
Finally, the idea of Usagi's Serenity form growing in power as Usagi grows as a person addresses why an older Usagi could essentially create paradise on Earth as Neo-Queen Serenity in the future.
tl:dr version: The Silver Crystal is a reality warping artefact fuelled by emotion+Usagi's Serenity form continuously grows more powerful in tandem with her.
*Which is why Usagi doesn't just always bust it out no matter the situation. It's a last, last, last resort. Plus if the bad guys get it it could be disastrous. In the hands of someone ure hearted like Usagi it's relatively benevolent but in the hands of an evil entity the world would be doomed.
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cognacdelights · 4 years
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Teenage Dirtbags | 002. — A Right Hook A Day
Summary: In which, an out of control teenager is sentenced to a summer in the Outer Banks to come to come to terms with her mother’s untimely death, and reform her rebellious, troublesome ways before she does irreversible damage.
Authot’s Note: Sooo this is the second chapter of the “Teenage Dirtbags” series and it’s one of my favourite things that I’ve ever written. Marnie was my original child (before Indie - although Indie is lowkey my favourite), and there is so much of myself in her so I hope you love her as much as I do. As always, masterlists will be linked below and feel free to message me, pop an ask in my ask box or reply to this if you would like to be added to the taglist. 
Warnings: This series may contain mature themes/content throughout including but not limited to swearing, sexual language and/or scenes, substance abuse and mentions of death. 
Word Count: 3367.
Teenage Dirtbags Series Masterlist.
Fill The Void General Masterlist.
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This gif is not mine, all credit goes to the owner. 
002. — A Right Hook A Day
There were several trivial pleasures in life that Marnie Sinclaire just couldn't resist; cherry pie, boys and a party. There was just something about the unmistakable, alluring aroma of cheap beer, teenage lust and bad decisions that really got her endorphins flowing. Parties were her safe space - her haven; they were the one place on Earth that Marnie could do just about whatever she wanted, whatever numbed the hollow, vacant ache that haunted her chest, and she never had to take even so much as a slither of the blame. She was devoid of all and absolute responsibility. If she was a tease, it was all down to the entrancing, provocative music they were playing. If she so happened to kiss somebody’s boyfriend, it was the infinite number of premium, export strength vodka shots that persuaded her to do it. If she found herself embroiled within a vicious cat-fight with the spiteful, pretentious girls from across the river - it was the obligatory capsules of molly, not her. It was never her. There was always some kind of justification that excused her reckless and wild behaviour, and that made her feel invincible for those sole, precious hours of anarchy.
So, when the audacious, unruly brunette found herself graciously clambering down the drain pipe of her grandparents' house, it was of no surprise to the girl. Despite her impassive, frigid reception of the boy with the devilish glint lurking within the amber speckles of his dark, mocha eyes, he had tempted her into joining them down at the boneyard. Although, admittedly, Marnie didn't need much convincing when it came to partaking in boozy social gatherings - and there was a minimal internal debate on whether she should test the waters with her grandparents so early in her sentence. Of course, in true Marnie Sinclaire fashion, she had opted to. After spinning them an improvised, fabricated exaggeration of how the eight and a half hour journey to the Outer Banks had utterly wiped her out, and proceeding to inform them of her plans to recuperate with an early night, she disappeared up the varnished, cedar wood staircase. Several outfit changes and a nonchalant application of peach-tinted lip gloss later, and she was descending from the perilous heights of her second story window.
By the time Marnie had reached the section of beach that had affectionately been nicknamed the boneyard, the ruthless, Mid-Atlantic sun had retreated behind the distant horizon. A captivating concoction of magenta hues and coral tinges had painted themselves across the Outer Banks skyline in a vibrant, bewitching haze, and the previously unbearable humidity had dissipated into a comfortably tepid draught. It had still been relatively light when she had committed her great escape - however she was unfamiliar with the intricate island pathways and had to rely merely on the tinny echoes of the teens' portable speaker to locate the unwinding get together. Marnie may have taken the scenic route, courtesy of her underdeveloped sense of direction, but she had eventually arrived.
All of half an hour had passed since the bright-eyed, fair-skinned beauty's arrival at the ocean-front gathering, yet she had found herself engulfed in a crowd of loafer-clad, polo-shirt-adorning country club boys. However, there was one mousy-haired, stiff-jawed boy in particular that Marnie had made a particular impression on; the playful, wicked glint that occupied her luminous, cerulean eyes had lured him in - but the acid-wash, denim shorts that desperately clung to the curvaceous contours of her slim-lined figure had ultimately seduced him. His large, gentle hand rested on the exposed skin of her upper thigh, as his soft, coaxing lips brushed ever so slightly against the delicate skin of her pierced earlobe, "you look incredible." A subtle waft of his Paco Rabanne aftershave filled her nostrils as his deep, raspy tone purred amorously into her ear. It was a scent which she knew oh too well, yet one that never really impressed her. It was more of a distasteful, indiscreet display of wealth rather than for the sake of actual hygiene purposes.  
"Just incredible?" Marnie challenged with a low, flirtatious hum - mimicking his ardent tone. Her sprightly, indigo eyes nonchalantly fluttered closed the second his masterful, delicate lips connected with the nape of her neck. The fair-haired boy began to litter sloppy, yet lustfully tender, kisses along her rose-tinted skin - mumbling a barrage of incoherent compliments in the process. His placid, velvet-like fingertips reached the sensitive plains of her inner thigh, leisurely encroaching on the lightly frayed hem of her sleek, denim shorts. The obviously well-off boy was very much aware that he was pushing his luck with the entrancing Brooklyn native, nevertheless he continued on with his pursuit into the uncharted territory - aiming to be the first in the race to place down his metaphorical flag and claim the terrain as his own in a bid for self validation.
"You are a fucking goddess," his fervid, lustful words vibrated against her freckled, alabaster complexion - his voice thick and gravelly - as her wandering mind fixated on the intense, rhythmic pulsing radiating from the nearby speaker. Marnie responded subconsciously by arching her back, as the heat of his whiskey-laced breath tantalised her most sensitive of nerves. "There's so many things that I want to do to you, princess" he proceeded to purr hankeringly, "so many positions that I want to take you in, so many places that I want to make you cum." She could feel the intrepid warmth of his dauntless fingertips intruding beneath the hemline of her shorts, a mere millimetres reach from the champagne, flower-patterned lace of her g-string.
"Slow down, Usain Bolt. This is a marathon, not a sprint," Marnie teased - her voice laced frivolously with her signature, provocative tenor. Her dainty lavender-painted fingertips coiled themselves around his wrist, guiding his meandering, clammy palms from beneath the frazzled hemline of her figure-hugging shorts. Casually, she turned her head to peer upwards at the upper-class boy, her beryl orbs occupying a sprightly glimmer as the corners of her glazed lips curled upwards into an innocent smile. "How about I get us some drinks?"
Removing herself from the confinements of his sordid, sun-burnt grasp, Marnie left the boy little time to object, beginning her leisurely stroll along the picturesque tidelands. The coarse silt particles beneath her off-white, worn-in Converse was uneven - and shifted unpredictably in every which direction under the light pressure of her footsteps. As someone accustomed to the static tarmac of Brooklyn's infamous streets, the doe-eyed brunette found the malleable surface difficult to navigate. It was yet another minute detail on an ever-growing list of contradictions to the world she was so fondly acquainted with, and desired to be reunited with.
Only a few, short minutes had passed before the troublesome vixen had - quite literally - stumbled upon the queue of drunken partygoers leading up to the beer keg, the ivory sand loosening beneath her cautious footsteps. The oddly alluring fragrance of cheap, low percentage beer forcefully invaded her airways, giving Marnie the unrivalled feeling of home; she relished in the one, trivial comfort she had managed to locate on the insufferable, out-of-touch island as she waited patiently for the line to diminish. There were several boys in the queue before her; all three of them drastically exceeding six foot, bare-chested and their tanned complexions adorning flattering splatters of salt water droplets that reflected celestially under the fire-lit lanterns.
As she eventually reached the front of the queue, Marnie was greeted by a much anticipated familiar face. The same golden-skinned boy who had delivered groceries to her grandparents' house stood before her - his large palm swaddling the beer tap, as his brawny, athletic figure guarded the half-empty keg. A haughty, complacent smirk etched itself into his defined features; after his earlier, sullen encounter with the pale-skinned virago, he was taken aback by her presence - but not disappointed. "Well, well, we-"
"Payment is required upfront," the brash, blonde-haired boy beside John B drowned out his mocking tone with his bold, cocksure words. A dauntless grin had proudly painted itself across his sun-kissed complexion, as his piercing, cobalt eyes glanced downwards at the petite, cinnamon-haired girl - appreciating all the fine, minute details of her being. Her skin, although pale, exhibited a naturally healthy and radiant glow, as the pinnacles of her prominent cheek bones displayed faint speckles of freckles. Her satin, blush-coloured lips were full and plump, and shaped perfectly by her pronounced cupid's bow. Marnie had an effortless kind of beauty to her - as even without her usual, heavy cosmetic aesthetic, she still attracted and secured the attention of the foreign, North Carolina boys.
"Payment?" she challenged the boy, arching her natural, dark eyebrows out of pure contest. His brazen demand for something in exchange for a mere half-filled cup of lukewarm, lingering on out of date beer was more than absurd to her. However, Marnie had to continually remind herself that these were North Carolina boys that she was dealing with; they were a whole different breed to the ones she had grown up with on the crime-ridden streets of Brooklyn. Perhaps, parties were simply not for the sake of sweet, teenage rebellion in these sandy plains, maybe they were an organised, profitable event and the boy with the wavy, mahogany locks had simply neglected to inform her of that fact. Her intense, perplexed gaze landed upon John B, who simply shrugged his broad shoulders in a casual display of confusion - neither confirming, nor denying, her theory.
"A kiss for a cup," the shaggy-haired blonde flirtatiously informed her, his sculpted, burly arms folding across his chest in his infamous, nonchalantly cavalier manner. The temptation to roll her sapphire eyes at his arrogant, pompous demeanour was more than abundant; the boy was not a budding, young entrepreneur offsetting his business enterprise early in life, he was merely an arrogant, over-confident teenage boy whose life direction revolved solely around the erratic, hormonal urges of his penis. "Sorry, babe, it's the island rules."
The over-whelming glint of mischief laced itself within the deep, sapphire flecks of Marnie's eyes, as she peered upwards through her thick, voluminous lashes, "just one kiss, hmm?" Her tone was playful, yet aloof, as she leisurely twirled the kinked ends of her cascading, chestnut wisps around the tip of her finger. An ever so slight, angelic pout graced her inviting, peach-toned lips as her head cocked innocently to the side, awaiting confirmation from the still nameless boy with the tousled, dirty blonde hair. He nodded his head assuredly - a slither of him astounded that his crass, amorous advances hadn't been met with pure, resentful outrage, as those he had previously accosted had reacted with.
Marnie took a small, confident step closer to John B. Her delicate, gentle palms placed either side of his elegantly sculpted cheeks, holding him in place, as the battered heels of her dirt-covered Converse rose up from the coarse particles beneath her. As the whimsical girl angled her makeup-less face upwards - her luscious, gloss-coated lips brushed against John B's. She was almost instantaneously met with the all too familiar taste of Keystone Light; the combined malt and bitter tang had temporarily stained his soft, welcoming lips. His large, paw-like hand held her at the nape of her neck - his touch light and placid - as he eased into the impassioned synchronisation. A low, lascivious grunt caught in the depths of his throat as her front, pearly teeth sank tauntingly into the swollen flesh of his bottom lip, lightly nibbling the delicate skin. She proceeded to drag her teasing, salacious tongue along the length of his lip, tenderly caressing the light indents. His gentle lips parted in submission, allowing her tormenting tongue to entangle itself with his own in an abruptly ardent embrace.
"Who's rolling out the welcome wagon now?" John B's low, husky voice chuckled as his lips retreated cautiously from Marnie's. Releasing the petite, bodacious brunette from his gentle hold, a smug, haughty smirk upturned the corners of his beer-laced, gloss-stained lips. His dark, untamed eyebrows raised in an arrogantly, quizzical manner as he waited patiently upon a response from the loud-mouthed, quick-witted girl before him.
"Still you, John B," Marnie quipped back instantly - complacent smirk etching itself into the doll-like features of her freckled complexion, "you've thrown me a welcome party and everything. You've really outdone yourself as well, although I would reconsider on who you hire for service - it seems as though he likes to take advantage of the guest of honour."
"You're trouble, you, aren't you?" the dark-haired boy anticipated with an amused chortle, pulling a singular red cup from the crumpled, plastic packaging laying atop the ivory sand. As if it came as second nature to him, John B applied the slightest touch of pressure to the keg tap, filling the cliché party cup with the golden, bitter beverage. The stream of beer flowed at a steady pace, hitting the side of the cup at an approximately forty five degree angle - to leave as little head as possible on the bordering stale lager.
"I resent the word trouble." Marnie took the disposable cup from the olive-skinned boy, his robust, athletic figure towering above her petite frame. Taking a generous sip of the cheap, college-grade beer, her doe-like, cerulean eyes peered atop the plastic rim. "You've got a little lip gloss on your mouth," she stated, the minor echoes of a giggle evident in the inflections of her lighthearted tone. Casually, she reached her dainty hand upwards, gently wiping away the remnants of her bubblegum-tinted gloss with a tender slide of her thumb.
"What, it didn't suit me?" John B countered banteringly - his bushy, untamed eyebrows raising upwards in an impudently brazen manner. His admirably chiselled arms crossed over his almost-bare, toned chest, shielding his loosely buttoned, pattern-printed shirt from flapping in the mild breeze. As the early-summer night had progressed, the once unbearable temperature had began to decrease significantly, and the occasional gust of wind had picked up into a steady, comfortable flurry.
"Nah, wasn't your colour," she divulged teasingly, taking another lavish gulp of her somewhat refreshing, alcoholic beverage, "it didn't complement your eyes and it definitely clashed with that hideous shirt you're wearing." Perhaps her caustically facetious words were a sliver too brazen for just their second interaction, although the thoroughly entertained grin which danced across his sun-soaked features indicated that John B hadn't taken her playful words to heart.
"Come on now, trouble, I can pull off any col-"
"What do you think you're doing macking on my girl, Routledge?" the roaring, irate voice of notorious posh boy, Rafe Cameron, crudely interrupted the boy mid sentence; it had become somewhat of a recurring theme throughout the evening. The older, less-athletically built boy proceeded to wade his way through the gathering of parched party-goers - his accompanying posse of fellow mindless, well-off minions following in close proximity behind. His work-shy hands were balled into tight, heavy fists, clenched in anticipation of the brawl that he inevitably expected to result from their heated exchange.
"Your girl?" the blonde-haired boy, adorning the discoloured muscle tee, antagonised the situation - his derisive words and coarse, mocking tone only provoking the enraged Cameron boy further, "didn't look like she was your girl when she was all up on my boy, John B just now."
"Was he talking to you, trailer trash?" one of Rafe's carbon-copy puppets hollered from the safety of several feet away. The shorter, feistier blonde stepped forward, his jaw clenched and his already-bruised fists clamped in preparation of the imminent altercation. Aware of his friend's lengthy, complicated history with the law, John B outstretched the palm of his large hand - serving as a makeshift barrier between the two cockfighting blondes, and silently urging his already probation-sentenced friend to fall back. This seemed to appease the short-statured boy for now as he retreated back a few reluctant steps, loosening his jaw.
"So what if I was macking on your girl, what are you going to do about it?" John B confronted the furious Figure Eight toff, taunting him further with his jesting, sarcasm-laced tone as he advanced forward, "are you going to throw daddy's money at me, like you do with all your other problems?" The umber-eyed boy with the dark, wayward waves had struck a nerve with Rafe Cameron; the snide, sneering words hurled towards him had rattled the trust-funded socialite - his scrawny, lacklustre body brimming with unprecedented rage. Acting on pure, neanderthal instinct, he swung his clenched fist towards John B, his garish, white knuckles grazing against the tanned highs of his cheek bone. John B stumbled backwards as the force of Rafe's tensed, curled-up fist connected with his face.
"Woah, back off, Donald Trump Jr," Marnie brazenly injected herself into the brawl; she shoved Rafe with as much strength and capability that her dainty, diminutive figure could muster, aiming to put as much distance between the two scuffling boys as possible. Her venomous tongue spat it's infamous poison in disapproval of the affluent blonde and his barbaric actions - utter disgust conspicuous within her harsh, reprimanding voice. She stared upwards at him, her unsympathetic, indigo eyes burning into his roseate features as she awaited his next move with hitched and bated breath.
"Stay out of this, bitch," Rafe hissed at the capricious brunette, lacking any fragments of hesitation as he returned the shove - only harder. The disposable, plastic cup that Marnie had remained in possession of crumpled under the sheer force of the repugnant Cameron boy's vigor, carelessly spilling it's alcoholic contents over her cropped, cream top. Although it was uncomfortable and tacky against her fair skin, her beer-doused garments were not the primary source of her superlative fury; Marnie Sinclaire absolutely despised, detested and resented the word bitch - especially when used as a derogatory slander to defame a woman. In Marnie's eyes, it was the most degrading slur of them all, and nothing boiled her blood quite like it.
In retaliation to his vulgar turn of phrase, the infuriated Brooklyn-born vixen found herself unconsciously launching her contracted fist at Rafe - knocking him backwards as her dainty knuckles connected with his crooked, concave nose, "who's the bitch now, bitch?" Her sour, sardonic words rang through his ears like the blaring chimes of the island's church bell, as his flaring temper toppled over at the brim. Raising his clenched fist once again, he directed his rage-filled, balled-up hand towards Marnie.
"I don't think so, man," the shorter, blonde-haired boy who had previously accosted the dark-haired girl, grabbed onto the ironed collar of Rafe's Ralph Lauren polo shirt before he could lay a hand on her. He negligently yanked the obnoxiously hostile Cameron boy from Marnie's vicinity, proceeding to thrust his gaunt, bony carcass towards the two witless clones that swarmed around the abhorrent boy. A bitter, hateful glare contorted his fair features as he remained on guard, willing and ready to pounce on the occasion that round two would commence with the feisty, short-statured boy adorning the beer-stained muscle tee.
"This isn't over, Routledge, Maybank," Rafe Cameron spat viciously, addressing the two South side boys directly - before wiping the meandering trail of blood leaking from his quickly bruising nose. Accepting his defeat for the moment, the embarrassed boy retreated back to the safety of the Figure Eight neighbourhood to tend to both his physical and metaphorical wounds, his agitated grumbles growing quieter as he disappeared into the unkempt foliage.
"Can someone get me some ice?" the lager-soaked brunette requested, a tinge of concern unmistakable in her distressed voice. Her luminous, cobalt orbs glanced towards the quick-tempered blonde and the anxious, dark-skinned boy who had appeared beside him now that the looming threat of violence had subdued - hoping one or the other would make an offer.
"I'll be fine," John B dismissed her with a simple, lackadaisical wave of his hand, "Rafe can't throw punches for shit."
"No, you moron, not for your face, for my hand. That fucking hurt."
Taglist: @drewsephsmiles​ @spilledtee​ @bellaguarneri​ @outrbanks​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @milamaybank​ @jjtheangel​ @shawnssongs​ @jayjaymaebank​ @jjouterbanks​ @ptersparkers​ @jjcultmain​ @summerintheobx​ @captainpogue​ @rudyypankow​ @rudypankow-whore​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @anonymous0writer​ @danandphilfan6​ 
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reignsan · 4 years
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Kadoc Zemlupus
Servant: Caster
A "nobody" Master among the geniuses of Team A, the closest in skill to Guda.
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Ophelia Phamrsolone
Servant: Saber
A girl with Mystic Eyes and a strong admiration for Kirschtaria.
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Scandinavia Peperoncino
Servant: Archer
A nice and agreeable man who is obviously using a fake name. He is interested in Buddhism and Hinduism.
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Akuta Hinako
Servant: Rider
A girl who likes to read and would always refuse to go to Roman's office for physical checkups.
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Beryl Gut
Servant: Assassin (assumed by process of elimination)
A man whom Da Vinci refuses to tell us much about. He once broke into Mash's room and nobody will say what happened besides that Roman had to force him out.
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Daybit Sem Void
Servant: Berserker
A man from the Folklore Department, the section of the Clock Tower which deals with otherworldly relics. Considered odd and dangerous even by Folklore's standards.
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Kirschtaria Wodime
Servant: Lancer
A genius mage from a long lineage. The student of Marisbury Animusphere and chosen to be Marisbury's heir instead of his own daughter, Olga Marie.
362 notes · View notes
get-your-fics · 5 years
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In the Dark
Summary: You are a Satanic nun in the Chattering Order of St Beryl and are tasked to help switch the Dowlings’ baby with the antichrist. However, you’re not as keen to go along with it as the rest of the order.
Pairing: Crowley x reader
Warnings: Language
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“At some point this evening, Mrs. Dowling will arrive. She will undoubtedly have Secret Service agents with her. You are all to ensure that they see nothing untoward,” Mother Superior detailed to the cluster of nuns buzzing with excitement in front of her. “Sister Theresa and I will deliver the Dowlings’ child in room four. Once he has been born, we will remove the baby boy from the mother, and give her back our master’s child.”
She demonstrated this on a rectangular whiteboard facing vertically. It was lined like a graph sheet of paper and had the basic symbol of a woman in the middle. Mother Superior took off the symbol of a normal-looking baby from its place next to the woman. Instead, she lifted the symbol of a baby with horns sprouting out of its head and placed it where the other baby had been.
“Everything is ready. Tonight, it begins.” She beamed at us proudly. However, her prideful expression fell when Sister Mary raised her hand. She sighed. “Sister Mary Loquacious?” she called on her.
“Yes, excuse me, Mother Superior,” the nun said in her irritatingly high-pitched voice, “I was wondering where the other baby is going to come from. Not the American baby. I mean, that’s obvious. It’s just the birds and the bees,” she rambled on, “but you know, the...” she trailed off and tried to convey what she was attempting to say with her wild, brown eyes.
“Master Crowley is on his way with our dark lord-to-be, Sister Mary,” Mother Superior answered matter-of-factly. “We do not need to know more than that.”
A titter of excitement ran through the group at the mention of the demon’s name. He happened to be a favorite amongst them, probably because he was rumored to be the most attractive out of all of the legion of hell. You had heard some of the nuns before bragging about running into him or even spending a night with him, though you were quick to take their tales with a grain of salt. Crowley hardly visited the convent to give orders. It was usually Hastur and Ligur who were the ones to carry out Satan’s dirty work, so you were surprised Crowley was getting involved with this operation at all. However, you had never had the pleasure of being in the presence of a demon. That was usually an honor saved for the highest ranking nuns, and you were the youngest of the bunch.
“We are Satanic nuns of the Chattering Order of St Beryl, and tonight is what our order was created for,” Mother Superior declared, and the group erupted with murmurs of elation. “Sister Grace, you are on duty reception. Sisters Maria Verbose and Katherine Prolix, you will assist Sister Theresa,” she read off of a clipboard in her hands. “The rest of you know your duties. Places!”
In the distance, the muffled wail of a siren could be heard. It slowly grew louder as the source of the noise approached, only adding to the convent’s increasing enthusiasm. For them, this assignment was the culmination of a year’s long work come to fruition. For you, it felt like utter damnation. The nuns scattered to the winds in a flurry of black, pointed habits, their polished shoes clicking against the tile floors. The only ones left standing in the room were you, Mother Superior, and Sister Mary.
“Excuse me, Mother Superior.” Sister Mary walked up to the head nun. “I didn’t get a job. Probably an oversight.”
You could read the agitated look on her face loud and clear, though you bet Sister Mary was oblivious to it. “Yes, of course.” Her tone completely opposed the emotion her countenance conveyed. She thought up a meaningless task for the nun. “You could make sure there are biscuits - the kind with pink icing. I think we had a tin in the convent larder.”
Sister Mary gave her a curt nod, disappointment in her eyes. She hurried away, and Mother Superior rolled her eyes once her back was turned. Then, her hawklike gaze settled on you where you were still standing at the back of the room.
“What are you standing around for, Sister (Y/N)?” You could sense the impatience in her voice.
“I didn’t get a job either, Mother Superior.” Although, you weren’t surprised. It was typical as the youngest member of the convent to be forgotten or left out of things. You didn’t necessarily mind it, either.
She folded her hands in front of her. “You can patrol the grounds, make sure no one interferes with our master’s plan. If you find anyone who doesn’t belong here, alert me or Sister Theresa immediately, understand?”
You nodded, and she left you alone with your thoughts. You knew she was just making up a frivolous task for you to complete, one with little to no consequence if executed poorly, just like she had done for Sister Mary, but you were grateful for it. The more time ticked on, the more the feeling of dread that had settled in your gut swelled. You weren’t sure why, but every breath you took felt like it was drawing closer to your last.
You turned around and stared up at the hulking statue of Adam carved out in marble. A serpent snaked between his legs and wound itself up around his body: Crowley. You had been born into a family of Satanists, studied and were taught their ways from a young age and as you grew up. They operated under the belief that if they played a part in bringing about the end of the world, their dark master would reward them, but you knew better. One thing you were sure of was that angels and demons, gods and monsters didn’t care about the human race. They merely used them as pawns in a giant game of chess. As you stared at the stone snake slithering around Adam, you wondered if Crowley had known what he was doing that day in the garden, or if he had been just as much in the dark as you were now.
You walked around the convent, trying to stay away from the halls where the plan was being carried out and avoiding anyone at all costs. The convent was actually kind of soothing at night. There was nothing around for miles except thick, green forests and open fields, so it was completely silent. So silent, in fact, you could hear the slightest creak of the floor under your feet, and the sound echoed in the spacey rooms. The indigo hue the light of the moon shone down on everything made the yellow, fluorescent lights inside seem warmer like a soft glow instead of the usually sickly and sallow appearance they gave.
You ventured closer to the center of the convent and came across a window peering in on the narrow corridor leading to the door to the parking lot. A couple stood there talking to a couple of the nuns. The woman was obviously very pregnant, her short, golden hair slightly mussed, and drops of sweat running down her flushed complexion. You couldn’t hear her through the window, but you were sure she was huffing and screaming up a storm. The man beside her looked frazzled. He had dark, slicked back curls and a round, kind-looking face. The nuns dragged the woman away from him, and he retreated out the doors to smoke his pipe. That must be them, you thought.
You were back in the main room again, just passing through when you heard an unexpected hiss. It caught you off guard, nearly causing you to jump out of your skin. You snapped your head to see a man lurking in the corner of the room. He must have come in through the side door. He was concealed in the shadows, so you couldn’t quite see his face. All you could make out was the faint outline of his figure.
You stepped tentatively closer to him. “Excuse me, can I help you, sir?”
You heard a low chuckle. “Can you help me?” he repeated. “Yes, certainly indeed.” He stepped into the light and held something out to you. “Take it.”
You looked down at the object in his hand. A large, woven basket dangled from his long, thin fingers. Your eyes widened in realization. Crowley.
You took in his appearance. He was tall and lanky, with luscious, dark red hair that hung loose to his shoulders in waves. He wore tight, fitted, leather pants that clung to his long legs and a black, military blazer. A gray tie hung loose around his neck, like he didn’t really care enough to fix it properly. He dressed like one of those rock stars from the eighties you had only ever seen pictures of. A pair of heavily tinted shades concealed his eyes, leaving the only indicators of any emotion he conveyed to be his brows, his pink lips, and the wrinkles lining his slim cheeks and chiseled features. You didn’t really know what you had expected a demon to look like - maybe a creature with more scales, or a slimy tail, or sharp, yellow fangs - but you certainly had expected one to take the form of a man so disarmingly attractive, so tempting to look at.
“Master Crowley, forgive me.” You bowed your head in an act of supplication.
He tilted his head to the side. “You’ve never seen a demon before, now have you?” You slowly straightened your posture and shook your head. “That’s all right. I hardly recognized you. I thought all nuns were supposed to old, shriveled up hags. I didn’t expect someone so...” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “Anyway, what’s your name?”
“Sister (Y/N),” you squeaked.
“(Y/N), stop dilly-dallying and take it.” He shook the basket in his hand slightly.
Your gaze lowered to the basket, and all the moisture was sucked from your mouth, leaving it as dry as cotton. It was closed, but you knew what was hidden inside. “I-I’m not supposed to take it.” You nervously wet your dry, chapped lips. “Sister Anne and Sister Jane are supposed to retrieve the child.”
“Do I look like I care, darling?” He arched a brow at you. “Take it to room three.”
You furrowed your brow. Room three? I thought it was supposed to be room four. “Has there been a change of plans?” You tried to sound cheerful, but your wavering voice betrayed you.
“How in the hell am I supposed to know? I’m just the glorified delivery service.” He walked closer to you, the thick soles of his black boots solid against the rug-covered tile. “Now, take it before we both screw something up and get ourselves in deep trouble.”
Your breath caught in your throat as the basket came closer to you, and you stumbled back. You felt paralyzed, every muscle in your body seizing with fear, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the basket. Crowley said nothing for a while, and you were sure if you could see his eyes, you would see them staring intently at you.
“You’re scared,” he said the words, so clear and concise and short, but they felt like daggers imbedded in your skin. “You don’t want to go through with this, do you?”
You finally ripped your gaze away from the basket and looked at the sunglasses shielding his eyes from view. You could see your reflection in the black glass. It was so dim inside the convent, you figured he must be hiding something with them. But glasses or not, he could see right through you. It was like he was staring through a window right to your soul, like your skin and bones had become transparent and he had direct access to all the thoughts swirling in your head like a thunderstorm.
“You want to turn your back on this place and never look back,” he stated like he was reciting the words a voice whispered in his ear. “You don’t believe in all the convoluted nonsense the others do.”
“How could you possibly know that?” you snapped, probably a little too harshly to be addressing your supposed master.
“I’m a demon, darling. I know everyone’s deepest and darkest desires, all the things they’re too ashamed of to say out loud.” He stuck his tongue in his cheek. “Tell me why.”
You drew your brows together. “Why what?”
“Why you’re not like the others.”
You blinked. You had never really thought of yourself like that. You had always just thought there was something wrong with you. “My parents are Satanists. They forced me to join the convent or they would disown me,” you said so casually, but the words tasted sour on your tongue. It was the bitter truth, but you knew better than to lie to a demon.
He nodded slowly, seemingly pleased with your answer. “Look.” He inched closer to you and lifted the lid on the basket. “He can’t hurt you.” The corners of his lips curled into a smirk. “Not yet, anyway.”
You dared to peer into the basket. A baby with ruddy cheeks and bright blue eyes laid on a red, cotton blanket. He had whisps of light brown hair on his otherwise smooth head and chubby arms and legs. He wriggled slightly, soft whimpers and cries falling from his lips. There was nothing out of the ordinary: no sharp horns, no spiked tail, no razor-like talons, no hoofed feet. He looked like any other normal baby, but beneath his creamy skin, there was dark, unbridled power in his veins unlike anything the world had ever witnessed before.
“I’m not afraid of him.” You looked up at Crowley. “I’m afraid of what comes after him.”
His thin lips twisted into a small, understanding frown. “I know.” He pushed the basket in your direction. “Here. Take it.”
You lifted a shaky hand and wrapped your fingers around the handle. The woven straw itched and bit at your skin, turning it red. You looked down at the child, and you swore for a second, his glossy eyes met yours. Crowley’s hand rested on top of yours, drawing your attention from the baby.
“If you ever decide to run away, darling,” the shaded glass of his sunglasses reminded you of the void of space, “you know who to summon.” He raised his free hand and drew a pentagram in the air with his finger.
You nodded. You had known how to summon a demon since you were eight years old; you just never thought you would ever need to before. He slowly removed his hand from yours, leaving you to hold the basket all on your own. Your skin felt cold. You closed the lid on the basket so you couldn’t see the child anymore.
Whatever softness had come over Crowley before vanished, and he pressed his thin lips together into a straight line. “Now, hurry up and take it to room three before our dark master has both of our heads put on spikes.”
He didn’t wait for a response. He whirled around with a grand flourish and sauntered away with a distinct sway in his hips. He retreated to the corner and practically disappeared into a puff of black smoke. For some reason, you had a strange sense of foreboding deep in your bones that you would see him again, and surprisingly soon.
You walked circles around the convent until your feet basically made indents in the tile floor with every step. The basket felt heavy in your hand, like you had the weight of the world in your grasp. You practically did. Your knuckles turned white from gripping the handle so hard. You had convinced yourself it was fine before when you were complacent in the plan, but now that you had a direct hand in moving along the destruction of humanity as you knew it, you were on edge.
You whipped your head from side to side like an eagle searching for its prey. No way would you be the one responsible for switching out the baby with the literal prince of hell. You drew closer and closer to the center of the convent, looking for someone to pass the deed off to. The first nun you came across was Sister Mary carrying a tin of small, circular cookies coated in a thin layer of pink glaze. Perfect.
“Sister Mary,” she looked up at you, and you walked closer to her, “I have the child. Take him to room three.” You kept your voice low.
You practically shoved the basket into her arms. She took it gratefully, her eyes flashing with jealousy for a moment that you had been the one to see and hold the antichrist first. But then, she flipped the lid and smiled down at the infant. It was the complete opposite to the reaction you had, leaving you feeling like you were staring through a funhouse mirror or stuck in the twilight zone. Your actions and your thoughts were out of place and abnormal in the convent.
“Is that him?” she asked. You merely nodded in reply. “Only I’d expected funny eyes, or teensy-weensy, little hoofikins, or a little tail.” Her tone was sugarcoated, and she rocked the basket in her arms almost lovingly.
“It’s him,” you confirmed. He was made to blend in, to learn all of humanity’s weaknesses, and then strike when the world wouldn’t even know what hit it. A monster amongst men.
Laughter bubbled from her lips. “Fancy me holding the antichrist, counting his little toesie-woesies. Do you look like your daddy? I bet he does. Do you look like your daddy-waddykins?” she cooed.
“Don’t forget to take him to room three. It’s of the upmost importance,” you repeated. You didn’t think she was paying you any attention, and you had been so involved with getting your hands off of the basket, you failed to think of finding someone competent enough to complete the job. A shudder ran through you as you thought of what would happen if you and the rest of the convent were to fail.
“Room three,” she repeated. “Do you think he’ll remember me when he grows up?”
“Hope not.” You turned away, not standing to listen to her incessant babbling any longer. You wiped your hands on the skirt of your habit like they were covered in grime. You sucked in a deep breath. The deed was done. Now, all you could hope for was that you made the however many years you had left count before the reckoning was upon you.
-
You went back to meandering around the convent. You decided to go outside and roam around the grounds, taking in the sound of an owl hooting and the refreshing, night air. You were about to pass through an archway with your hands clasped behind your back and a pleasant smile on your face when you spotted three figures. Two of them you recognized as Mother Superior and Sister Theresa, but the third was completely unfamiliar to you. Whoever it was had wiry, stiff, white hair that stuck out in all directions and nearly translucent skin. He wore a soiled trench coat that made him look like he had crawled out of a grave, and his face was all sharp lines and hard edges. His eyes were pitch black like two dark holes burrowed deep into the Earth, and dark circles hung under each soulless eye.
You repressed a gasp, and instantly, a sinking feeling filled your gut. The nuns had their backs to you, and you ducked out of the stranger’s eyesight before he could spot you. You pressed your back flat against the brick wall and eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Our mission is done, Lord Hastur.” You recognized Mother Superior’s voice. “The baby is in place, and his parents are none the wiser.” You went slack jawed. You weren’t sure what you were more surprised by: that you had seen your second demon of the night, or that Sister Mary had followed the instructions you had given her.
“Well, no need for the convent any longer, then, is there?” You expected his voice to be gravelly and deep, but it was shockingly light.
“I’m afraid I-”
“Dissolve,” Hastur cut Mother Superior off.
Your heart stopped beating in your chest. Dissolve? “What?” Mother Superior was just as confused as you were.
“Your order is dissolved,” he declared.
“We’re what?” Rage infiltrated her tone.
“Now hang on a moment,” Sister Theresa spoke up. “We did everything that was asked of us! What about our reward?”
“So irritating,” he groaned. “You never shut up, do you?”
“We are a chattering order. We say what is on our minds, and right now what is on my mind is that you can’t treat us like-” Sister Theresa suddenly stopped talking, and you heard what sounded like a body dropping to the ground. You peered around the corner to see her lying on the gravel, her blank eyes wide open and her limbs stock still. It was like all the life had been drained from her in a single second. Fuck.
Hastur turned his gaze to the petrified Mother Superior next. “Would you like to tell them that the order is dissolved, or would you rather that they all perish in the fire?”
Alarm bells started ringing in your head. “What fire?” she asked.
Suddenly, a bolt of lightning split the stormy sky open and struck the wing of the convent opposite from you with a deafening crack. There was an explosion of sparks as the convent caught on fire. The orange flames easily spread throughout the building like it was kindling waiting to be lit. You could feel the overwhelming heat from where you stood, and the air crackled with electricity. Mother Superior shrieked as she ran away, her shoes crunching against the gravel. You watched the other nuns flood out of the building like a dam had burst. They scrambled like chickens with their heads cut off, their high-pitched screeches bouncing off of the walls, but Hastur’s cackles were louder. You didn’t think you’d ever see a demon smile, but the grin on his face was bone chilling and made bile climb up your throat.
You ran as fast as your feet could carry you. Most of the nuns headed for the open field next to the burning convent, but you went the opposite way and ducked into the forest bordering a road. You didn’t know how long it stretched for, but you’d take your chances of getting lost if it meant you’d get away from Hastur. It began to rain, and your drenched habit started to slow you down. You chucked it off, feeling instantly lighter once the heavy, woolen garment was gone.
You pushed through the brambles and the underbrush and the trees. The thick foliage blocked out the scarce amount of light from the moon, shrouding you in darkness. It made no difference whether your eyes were closed or not. You couldn’t see, and you didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t know if you had anywhere to go; you only followed the instinct inside of you to keep running. Branches reached out and scratched at your skin like claws. You tripped and fell at one point, losing your shoes to the thick, sticky mud. Your bare feet pounded against the ground, splashing in puddles of dirty rainwater and cutting on jagged rocks. The sound of blood rushing and rumbling thunder filled your ears. In the distance, you swore you could still hear the crackle of fire and the nuns’ piercing screams.
You practically tumbled out of the forest and onto the shoulder of a back road. You stumbled out into the middle of the concrete, your mind in a daze. The blaring of a car horn cut through the sounds of the forest, and you turned your head to be blinded by bright, white headlights shining directly into your eyes. Before you knew what was happening, a black Bentley barreled down the road, headed straight for you.
You froze, glued to the spot. You willed your legs to move, but they remained rooted to the ground. You were a deer caught in headlights. You were trapped, and by your own body, nonetheless. You saw your life flash before your eyes, and every muscle in your body tensed, preparing for impact. This is it.
But it never came. The Bentley screeched to a halt inches from you, the back half of the car flying up so far you thought it would flip over and crush you. But then, it fell back down as if it had been pushed by an unseen force. The car rocked back and forth on its wheels as it came to a rest. The door to the driver’s seat swung on its hinges, and the driver hopped out.
“What the hell?” The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge. You knew that voice. The demon Crowley rushed forward, squinting his eyes at you. “(Y/N)?”
Wait. His eyes. You could see them now. He still had the frames of his glasses on the bridge of his nose, however slightly askew, but the glass was shattered, most likely due to the sudden stop. His eyes were a bright, golden yellow like marigolds in a field, and he had one black slit separating the halves of each eyeball. Like a snake’s, you realized through your foggy brain.
“I thought I told you to summon me, not run out into the middle of the bloody road! You could’ve gotten killed! Fuck!” He settled his hands on his hips, seething with anger. His rage slowly simmered, however, when his reptilian eyes raked over your form. “Are you all right? What happened?”
It came to you then the state you were currently in. The headlights were still on, illuminating your shivering form. Your thin tank top and shorts were soaked with rain and clung to your body, leaving little to the imagination. Your skin was smeared with mud and covered in goose pimples and uneven scratches leaking ruby red blood. Your hair was stringy and wet, sticking to your forehead. Your eyes were wild as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to preserve any bit of warmth your body could hold onto.
“Hastur dis... disbanded the convent.” Your speech was disjointed from the chattering of your teeth and your rapid intake of breath. “He set the con... convent on fire. He tried to... tried to kill us.”
Crowley combed his hands through his unruly curls, the emotion in his eyes unreadable. “Hey, it’s okay, darling.” He slipped off his blazer and draped it over your shoulders. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to get you.”
He scooped you up in his arms effortlessly. Your head swam with the heady scent of his cologne and aftershave and the slight smell of smoke wafting off of him and invading your senses. He carried you over to his car, and you latched onto him like your life depended on it. Your nails dug into the gray fabric of his t-shirt, though he didn’t seem to mind.
“I’m sorry about your car,” you murmured into his chest. The once shiny and flawless exterior was now scuffed and scratched. Dents littered the surface, and all the air had been sucked out of the back tire, reducing it to a hunk of limp, black rubber. White clouds of smoke billowed out from under the hood. The engine must’ve busted.
“That’s all right, darling,” he whispered, his voice surprisingly soothing. You heard what sounded like crunching metal, and whipped your head to see the car repairing itself. Except it wasn’t repairing itself. He was the one repairing it.
Crowley opened the door to the passenger’s seat with his foot and set you down gently inside. He sat you up before carefully closing the door so as not to hurt you. He ran around the other side and got in, slamming the door shut securely behind him. From this new angle, you could see the black snake tattoo just by his right ear.
“So, where to?” He leaned over the armrest to click your seatbelt into place.
You offered him a weak smile. “I was hoping you would have the answer to that question.” You pulled his blazer closer around you.
He pursed his lips, deep in thought. He took off his broken glasses and assessed the damage. He tossed them over his shoulder out of the half rolled down window. Then, he reached over and opened the glove compartment. You saw multiple pairs of the same glasses inside. He snatched one up and slid them onto the bridge of his nose, once again concealing his eyes from you.
“I think I know someone who can help.” The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a wide grin, revealing two rows of pearly, white teeth. “Don’t worry. He’s an absolute angel.”
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