[Un]Creative dumping ground

[Alan975]

Well, as stated before this will be where I throw everything that I feel just proud enough of to want to show off but not enough to invest the time and effort needed for whatever it is to stand on its own.

Media here will most likely be changed retroactively, for I am a very indecisive person.

For ease of browsing and to save both you and me from having to scroll through the entire treadmarks tab, I shall utelise the linking arts of old as an aditional seach-method for when related somethings are spaced apart by unreletad somethings.

Threadmarks:
-Ratio. (Worm)
Vista is sick and tired of the East-North-East Wards being a sausage fest, and so she has decided to take matters into her own hands!
-Fall to grace. (Worm/Overlord)
The lovable vampire, alone and despairing, attempts to follow her masters last command.
-Kitty. (Worm) 2.
It's not unheard of for teens to get in and over their heads in trouble, but Victoria is pretty sure that she has set some kind of record.
After all, it's not every day that you kill a paragon.
A child thrice scorned (Danmachi/some type of gamer) Old: Chapter 1, Version 1
How much can you stand to be ignored? To be glossed over, not given a second glance as your patron enrich themselves off of your work. Well, not for long in my case.

 

[Alan975]

Ratio​

The common room of the ENE Wards quarters resembled a battlefield.


"No. please! merc-" Clockblocker cried as he was struck down by a green clad toddler with a baseball bat.

The furniture lay in ruin across the floor, décor and appliances
decimated as if by a force of nature.

Vista dropped her weapon to the floor with a clatter to grasp her fallen comrades' leg and dragged him into the center of the room.

There, their resident Tinker barely coherent sits bound to one of two chairs, head hung in despair and hair extensions framing a positively cute makeup laden face.


Vista pays Kid no mind as she ties her latest charge up before wandering over to a duffle bag on the far side of the room, taking her time to appreciate the artwork mounted upon the wall.

Twisted steel and wood keep Gallant up on display, what parts of armor not dedicated to structural support having been shaped into the most beautiful of frilly dresses, paired with the finest tiara of craft-glue and glitter!

Her eyes linger, but with a shake of the head and the whistling of a jaunty tune she continues forth to ruffle through the duffle bag.


"I can remake you~" she sings, as her hands emerge victoriously from the confines of the bag, pulling out a Puffy. Pink. Mini skirt.
With glee, she takes it upon herself to dress Dennis in that and so much more! All the while appreciating the work that she has done.


Aegis, mounted upon the kitchen table which has been stuck to the ceiling and twisted into a crude cross, watches over it all.
Electrical cords and all manners of culinary tools constraining in a position to show off how Vista had mutilated and twisted, five inch heals grafted on and the [Redacted] and [Redacted] turned in on themselves untold times until they formed a [Redacted].

"Soon~" she sang through giggles as she painted Denise lips pink, "Soon the team will have enough girls!"
All the while Shadow stalker, her formerly only female confidant, lays curled up in the corner, whimpering.


She did not count.

 

[Alan975]

The city lay in ruin.

Skyscrapers toppled, streets ripped to shreds and bodies gracelessly strewn about.

A girl in elegant armor of crimson digs through the rubble, clawed gauntlets tearing away great slabs of stone and steel with every swipe.

"Protect humanity" one would hear her mumble, were they brave or fool enough to approach.
In moments the girl would uncover a pocket of air hosting two sniveling children. She would not comfort nor linger, her glowing gaze would merely track to another location, she would walk away in a daze and tear into the rubble once more.
Continuing well into the night, mumbling.

"Protect humanity"


---Line--- ---break---


Shalltear Bloodfallen.

An eccentric name for an eccentric being.
Calm collected and downright friendly in one moment and a bloodthirsty raving lunatic in the next. Revered in nearly equal measures as a savior and destroyer.

The first recordings of her presence on Earth Bet were as an accomplice to "The Master" as they slaughtered their way across the war-torn frontiers of Afrika. The death of multiple high-profile peoples, primarily of the parahuman kind, widely thought to have been their doing.

That though is not where they gained their renown.

Oh, their actions were certainly scrutinized by any number of bureaus and peon, not to mention the digital goldmine that had captivated certain pockets of the internet and morning news.
Security cameras and mobile footage had practically documented their propensity for openly visiting street-side shops and targets alike had made them more recognizable than the average in the cape community.

But what really brought them, and now her, into the sight of the wider world was their contribution on the 24th of February, 2011.
Canberra, Australia.

 

[Alan975]

Some quick things that I could kind of draw but not write! atleast not yet

 

[Alan975]

Victoria basked in the evening rays of the sun as she glid through the sky, high above even the peaks of the scant few high-rises of Brockton Bay.
She savored the feeling of the wind as it passed her by, blowing back her hair and caressing her skin as she gazed down into the sprawling net of streets and alleys.
She'd always loved this feeling, the contrast of the warmth of the golden rays and the hair-raising chills of the air while both extremes were kept in check by her force field.
It brought forth some of her most treasured memories, of countless days and sleepless nights spent feeling out her power, testing her limits and pushing further beyond until it felt like a second skin. Like a lost skill that had been waiting to be relearned.

Now, however, even this failed to brighten her mood.

It'd just been one of those days, multiple of those days really, one of those weeks.

The kind of week where everything looks bleak, where the days are long and the food tastes bland and you want for nothing more than to bury yourself in blankets and pillows and just forget everything.


It wasn't anything world shaking that had come and upended her life.
There was no surprise test that she had flunked, it wasn't some scandal that had come and fractured her social life, and it wasn't even that Squealer had ruined another date by ramming through her favorite café again.

She'd have preferred that by this point, at least she could blame this on something then.

No, it wasn't anything major, just a bunch of small, Itty-bitty things that had piled up, the kinds of things that she couldn't bring up or accuse anyone off because that would make her seem petty or ungrateful or spoiled.

She had been out doing her thing the night before and spent hours waiting for the officer on call to come and cuff some jumped up crooks, apparently it was more important to get a coffee break than to do his job.

And as if that wasn't enough to sour her mood then her school friends had flaked on her even though they'd planned the outing days ago, and her lab partner had been "sick", so she had to do all the work herself.

She'd wanted to talk about it with someone, but her mother had had to stay late at the office since one coworker or another had to dip early for a family emergency, her dad hadn't exactly been all there as of late either, stuck in a mood and it felt tactless to complain to him and she couldn't burden her sister because Amy was too tired to do anything on what was supposed to be their weekend because some moron had caused a pileup on the highway, and she wouldn't- couldn't talk about it with Dean because they were on a break damn it and she'd be damned if she had to crawl back to that-
.
..
…

Eyes squeezed shut, she took deep breaths through her clenched teeth as she gradually slowed to a hover, hair hanging down and shielding her face from the probing light of the evening sun.

She loathed that feeling.
Like rusted hooks deep in her stomach, clawing inwards and anchoring her to the ground.

But what could she do? Couldn't talk about it with mom because that was apparently just part of "growing up" and "having obligations" and "not always getting what you want", and even though that seemed like utter bullshit she couldn't talk about that with Aunt Sar because she would tattle to mom, and she wasn't callus enough to confide in Amy because her sister was obviously stressed enough already and-

"ARGHHH!"


What warm anger had built in her chest sinks to her gut like a rock in a lake as she watched her thrown tiara hurtled towards the ground, she had to squint against the reflections of the sun to see as it became more of a speck on the backdrop of the concrete street.
She watched as it bounced off the side street once, twice, and as it settled below the wilting crown of a birch tree.

She stayed there for a while.
Arms limp by her sides as she gazed at nothing in particular as she was mocked by the winds that blew her hair into her face and by the seagulls as they taunted her with their … with whatever the cries of those fuckers were called!
Whatever it was called, it sounded particularly evil today.

With a sigh, she started her descent from the heavens to retrieve her crown, done with expressing herself for the rat-birds or any other miserable little miscreant that would take joy from seeing her brought low.
Only, when she finally reached the ground and bent down by the root cracked curb, she found that her precious tiara had an ugly bend in its left arm.
She took a hold of both ends and attempted to bend them back into shape, it snapped.



Her mind felt particularly slow as she griped the two pieces tightly, she felt like punching something.

No, scratch that, she felt like pummeling something, she felt like now would be as good a time as any to see if she could lift a boat, to see just how far she could throw it.
Yes, that sounded about right to her, she would go out to sea, grab whatever vessel looked sturdiest, find one that was still floating, or whichever looked like it would sound the best when she rams the fucker down-


Something hissed at her.

With great reluctance she retreats from her fantasies, reining in her pulsing aura as she refocuses on the world around her.
Her tiara, her magnificent tiara which she had treasured for years, is completely and utterly ruined, its metal form squeaked through the gaps in her clenched fists.
She feels like punching someone.

Something hisses at her again, and that spark in her gut goes cold.
Above her, in between the sparse branches of the withering willow, sits a cat.

It looked like an ordinary cat, light gray with a few strands of lighter gray here and there, almost like it was a graying senior, especially with how its pelt clung to its hips and shoulders.

She liked this cat, she decided.
It had an elegant air to it, unlike all the alley cats that she usually got her hands on.


"Here kitty kitty kitty" she whispered and *psk*psk*psk'ed*, as she raised her hand and rose from the ground slowly, metal scraps discarded in favor of her new task.

It drew back upon its branch, so she switched to the objectively better kissy noises and slowly continued forth until she was at eye level with it.
Partly because of her finely honed skill, and partly because she was practically oozing love and adoration, the cat tilted its head forwards in acceptance of her *scratchy scratch* motion.
An extended hand, a few sniffs and a nudge were all it took to get it cradled in her arms, its rhythmic purr infusing the air with warmth as she played with its ears.

The ambient sound, which without her notice had grown still, was abruptly broken as camera shutters started rapid firing from up ahead.
Biting back a scowl, she looked across the street to where a gaggle of people had stopped to gaze in her direction, and her eye was drawn to the window behind them where she caught a glare of gold-

She threw a glance over her shoulder and met eyes with Sion.


She met eyes with Scion, Scion was looking at her!

Her mind slowed to a crawl as she attempted to make sense of what her eyes were telling her, as her gut twisted into a knot like it would when she used to get caught stealing from the cookie jar and all she could do was stare dumbly at the shining being before her.
His gaze turned downwards, she followed its path and met the felines instead.
She scratched it, it purred, and Sion flew closer!

She didn't know what she was supposed to do, holding a cat in the middle of the street as the worlds greatest hero just floated and… Frowned down at her.
She knew that Scion was known, partly know, for his glum attitude, how no matter the circumstances he always looked like a freshly kicked dog and radiated that sadness around him almost like-

The cats scratchies paused as a thought struck her, and she glanced between the hero and the cat.
She shifted her hold of the cat, holding it more firmly in her arms rather than against her chest and with a step into the air she closed the distance and held the cat out for Scion.
He looked at her, his striking golden eyes unfocused, his hand left his side, and he hesitantly petted the cat.

There she stayed, locked in place, and bearing the cat as if she were born for it, even as she felt a shift in the air.
That cloying cold, that knot in her stomach slowly unwound and was replaced by a warmth that wormed itself into every fiber of her being.
The cat purred, and Scion's lips twitched.




The next thing she knew, she was on the ground.
Her eyes stung as if she had just taken a flashbang to the face, her ears rang as people gasped and chattered all around her and limbs shook as she tried to push herself up.
Her aura flared out of her control, sending waves rippling out around her, and she saw as the field over her hands pulsed in fractals of white and gold.

 

[Alan975]

"The reactions are still as varied as ever days later-"

"The PRT has so far refused to answer what is to be done about this-"
​

"Innocent mistake"

"Second coming of The Fairy- "
​

"-Rogue Master!"
​

Click.

Victoria stared at the reflection of the screen, gaze met by eyes not her own.

Spoiler: eye

…She wasn't sure what she thought about them.

She'd never really liked her bluebell eyes.
Oh, she'd never had a problem with them either, but neither had she preferred them over other colors, not like she preferred her nails plain or her hair blond.

She supposed that it was a pretty pattern, at least it wasn't some kind of horrid mutation that would forever ruin her chance at romance, if anything she could kind of see it as a feature that she could flaunt.
Sort of like having Heterochromia, or Albinism.

.
..
…
Click.
"Just because she hasn't done anything yet doesn't mean she won't-"
Click.

She sat down the remote on her nightstand and floated up, getting her legs crossed and back to the headboard.


She focused on her shield, her outer surface, the feal of it pulsing right beneath her skin.
On her left hand sat a green gem, suspended as if it were the centerpiece of a ring, that pulsed as she pulled layers off herself, as they shifted from transparent to shades of golds and whites, flowing like an ocean of crystal.
The gem glowed as she focused on the form, as it took on the rough shape of a blanket that wrapped itself around her, molding to support her resting bod.

Then she reached for her phone.
.
..
…

■
​

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.
​

You are currently logged in, Point_Me_@_The_Sky
​

■
​

​

​

♦ Topic: A New Thread
In: Boards ► Capes ► News ► Scion ► What the Fuck?

Posted On Jan 11th 2011:


(Showing page 502 of 509)

►XxVoid_CowboyxX [Banned]
Replied On Jan 11th 2011:
[Conted has been removed by [Moderator] ] - Warnings ignored, enjoy your indefinite ban.

►TechnetiumDr
Replied On Jan 11th 2011:
Skipping right over that, so where were we? she can't have mastered Scion, hes fought of the damn Simurgh!
I get that this entire thing has people spooked but the capital M shouldn't be used lightly.

►WaryMivonne
Replied On Jan 11th 2011:
ugh ya, why wont anyone remember that for it to count as Mastering then it has to be done on purpose?
Oh, silly me, thats not how it works.
You can't just say opsi and get away with that shit!
Shaker my ass

►2Schooled4Cool
Replied On Jan 11th 2011:
Still not seeing any proof that there was any form of tampering involved, you bring up again and again that no sane person would just hand over that kind of power, but need i remind you that we are talking about the guy who prioriticed kittens over fucking punting Behemoth?
Not a single logical though has ever passed through that mans skull ever since he decided to put on pants.

►Winged_One
Replied On Jan 11th 2011:
I for one welcome our new OverLady, may her reign be prosperous and her mercy plentiful.

►CopyMadhavee
Replied On Jan 11th 2011:
[LINK] Here is my rendition of how things came to be, Scion is THE Dilf and no one should blame that girl for taking what she deserves~

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 39, 40, 41, 42, 43 ... 53, 54, 55

■
​

Thumb hovering over, a mere moment away from clicking the link, her phone was snatched out of her hands.
"And That's enough of that."
Without thought, running on pure instinct and lizard brain she lunged after her retreating thief of a sister.
"Give!" she looked down on her ducking sister, and her mind caught up with her as she sailed right on over and crashed face fist into the wall.
"Ow!" she clutched her bloodied nose.

"Sorry!" Amy dropped her phone and rushed over "sorry, I'll fix-" hands clamping down on her shoulder and-

Nothing.


It took them both an embarrassingly long moment of incomprehension before her sister let go with a muttered "Right, that" and got out of the way.
She called back her blanket shield, breaking it down and molding it to her skin and relaxing into its embrace, letting out a sigh as it flooded her body with waves of warmth.
The crystal pulsing green as her nose knitted itself back together.

Less then half a minute and she could let go of her face and fetch some napkins from ger nightstand, "You'd think that we wouldn't forget that" Amy grumbled.


'As if everything else hadn't been surprised enough' she wanted to tag on, if only to extend her pity party.


It had taken a while to get her bearings when it all happened so suddenly; cameras pointed in her face, people shouting question after question and just not shutting up.
And worst of all was the sudden shock of having her powers changed on such a fundamental level.
It felt like she'd had an arm chopped off only to be grafted back on, but on the wrong side and with a bunch of extra fingers scattered across its length.

And then she'd flown home with all the grace of a drunk toddler, tried to explain everything with raising panic while Mom grilled her for details only for Amy to come in, seeing her obvious distress and routinely checking if anything was broken and then…

How could she even describe what kind of sensation that had been? From one moment to the next she'd gone from being a normal person with average kinesthesia to being completely and utterly aware of the vertical and lateral positions of her arms, the angles of this or that muscle group and the length and curving of every single hair on her head.

It was overwhelming, overwhelming to the point that she had completely frozen up.
All that information, all those contours and all those textures that her forcefield shoved into her head.
She had only come to who knows how long later to Moms shouts of "What did you do!" while Amy choked out through sobs and hiccups that she couldn't see anything.


"Hey" her sister poked her side, smiling as it made her jump with a squawk "don't zone out on me".
A deep breath to collect herself, and then another "Sorry, it's just hard to not-" she took a moment to try and frame what she wanted to get across "-overthink all of this?"

Amy mulled over her thoughts, sporting a thoughtful frown, "I can guess, it's not often you get the national media coverage instead of just online."

Victoria nodded as she pulled her knees up and floated back to the bed, absent-mindedly patting the spot beside her beckoningly as she mulled over her thoughts.
"Mhm" she hummed, "like, I thought that I had all that covered already, thought that I wouldn't be bothered by the opinions of a bunch of strangers, but.."

"It feels different when it's big scale, right?"

She nodded and pulled her sister into a lose side hug "yeah, not sure how you could stand it, honestly".

Amy shifted and turned a bit in her grasp "just ignore it, they don't matter anyway, not as if any of it is going to stick after tomorrow anyway."

That reminder brought a grimace over her face, she let out a sigh as she leaned on the shorter girl's shoulder, "do you have any idea how awful that's going to be? my first power testing was invasive enough."

Amy just smiled and leaned into the hug "it's not that bad, it'll just take a while."

She scoffed and raised a hand to ruffle that curly bird nest masquerading as hair "maybe it was okay for you little Miss clear-cut-Striker, we Brutes, Movers and…Changers, i guess, have quite a few more criteria to go through."

Amy let out a snort and dryly "so sorry that you have to have such a smorgasbord to pick from, I'd take it of your hands if I could, but I suppose that you'll just have to deal."

She snickered and pulled off her field again to loosely envelope the two of them.
That certainly had been a point that they had argued over a while ago, Amy having been a bit sore about having flight practically rubbed in her face the first few months with how she flaunted it.
It only took a few enthusiastic trips before her sister was convinced that the heights weren't really for her.
… And the early-stage muscle atrophy that she'd gotten a taste of, having used her flight for everything between trips outside the house to going up and down the stairs, that wasn't one of its bestselling points.

"I guess I can endure it then" she conceded as she finally positioned her field around and below both of them, slowly lifting them off the bed and into a relaxed position closer to the sealing than to the floor.
"But I swear, if this happens again and I have to do it a third time" She whispered which at least got her a laugh.
"Last time I checked" Amy said as she turned towards her "there wasn't exactly another Scion around, I think that you'll be fine."

She thought that that was quite enough snark to warrant another hair ruffle, one she had to fight for, however, as Amy tried to squirm out of her grasp.

She'd missed this, dearly.
Just… spending time with her sister, without some reason to do so, or with some deadline or event hanging over her, looming.
Too bad it couldn't last, couldn't stretch out ad infinitum.
But at least it would last a little while longer, just for today.

 

[Alan975]

'Oh, go to Danmachi they' said.
'it'll be great' they said.
'It's full of cuties, and Hestia is Bestia!' they said.

Well, no one outright said that, but it was implied damn it! Implied by all the fans that wrote of her caring nature, that idolized her as 'one of the good ones' and preached to high heaven about how they'd love and adore her.
Well let me tell you, she is none of that.
Okay, to be fair, she would become damn close to that ideal after the growth of her in-story counterpart, she would have become that ideal goddess that could hold the moral high-ground over the other gods.
Not that that would've been of a tall hill to stand on, but I digress.
She would have become that ideal, had some moron (Read: ME) not approached her in her early couch-potato-Ing phase and handed her everything she wanted on a silver platter.

Entirely to brag, but even back then I was nothing to sneeze att.
An attractive elf in his best years by the tastes of the gods, so a preteen, with a solid grasp on magic for an unblessed and seemingly prodigious skill in everything adventurer.
Things that I had blown a significant part of the budget on, on account of all the looming death.



I'd come into her life like a storm, I'd bought into the hype and truthfully claimed that she was the best option in this city of degenerates.

Now that I think about it, it's no wonder that Hephaestus never really seemed pleased with me, when I'd practically rubbed her face in the dirt by proclaiming her as worse than this gremlin.

Forgive me goddess! I'd take it all back if I had the chance.



But again, I digress.

I'd taken on her blessing then and there and not even an hour later found myself in the dungeon.

'I know what I'm doing' I'd thought, because I had seen it all already, I knew what was ahead of me and I had the advantages stacked in my favor with my out-of-context powers.

But here's the thing, more power? That doesn't mean shit.

It doesn't make anything easier because it just means that you need to delve deeper.

Surprised? I was. To think that the Falna, a system created by literal gods, would actually take my full capabilities into account when dishing out that sweet, sweet Exilia.

But I wasn't deterred, I pushed on and went deeper than any level one had before! I threw myself into the challenge, the exhilarating flow of combat with blood pounding in my ears and gushing out several wounds that would have laid my un-enhanced self six feet under.



I was raking in cash after the first few weeks, not that I saw most of it.

My oh so precious goddess wanted this or that commodity, she didn't want to cook by herself while I was on my admittedly stupid multi-day dungeon crawls. She didn't want to look bad in front of the other gods, and I certainly though it a worthwhile investment to help her climb the social ladder.

Not that she even tried to do that, but what was I expecting?

Hells, she didn't even want to clean her own room in the damn mansion that I bought!



But I was a-okay with all that, I had rationalized, my entirely to limited pool of experience said that it wasn't odd to spend large sums on friends, that it was all really investments in the Familia that I was de facto captain of so I shouldn't think of it as me and her but rather as us.

And it's not as if she did nothing, I had pestered her for status updates daily which she'd made seem like such an arduous task.



Now, today, with a healthier mindset I could see the problems clear as day, that the younger me with but a month under his belt was enthralled by the new life, by the constant praise and envy and even overjoyed when I'd pushed past my limits and slain a Minotaur singlehandedly! Beating that marker of progress that had seemed so daunting!

I couldn't even be mad at the gods and their monthly clown convention because Hestia had actually been useful for once! taunting Loki about having her record stolen and drawing the attention of every god to the ensuing verbal sparring match of drunk toddlers.

So instead of some horrid Alias like the suggested "go-getter" or "pretty pretty Elf boy" I'd gotten a simple and elegant, Sword Prince.

Surprised? I was, although I shouldn't have since the gods are lazy and the connection was right there.



So, everything was peachy: I continued pushing my limits, honing my skills, and drinking in the attention that it all got me. I left the dungeon and tasted the fruit of my labor by exploring the vast culinary talents spread throughout the city, drank with friendly strangers and even shared the night with a few ladies both of the trade and not.

And I was oh so thankful that my younger vain self had spent those precious points on those skills, practically saved my newly inflated ego.

Then, I made a stupid fucking mistake.



One day, one that felt like any other, I saw them.

That mop of white hair, those crimson eyes filled with glee.



And you know what I did? I recruited them then and there.

Why wouldn't I?

The kid was practically destined for greatness, to soar above the skies unlike any other, and I thought that it would be nice to not eventually end up lonely at the peak.

Didn't hurt that she was so endearing either, all smiles and sunshine and humility and gushing gratitude that I'd take on her when no one else had.



It wasn't even a question in my mind whether Hestia would even agree when she'd so far ignored and outright rejected prospective members, because unlike them this one would hold up to her admittedly unrealistic new standards.



And ho boy did she agree, one look on the kid and she just would. Not. Let. Go.



No matter the time, no matter the subject, Hestia was glued to our little bunny.

She clung to the girl and spoiled her rotten, although it's not as I could point any fingers about that, those smiles were to die for.

But the key problem that surfaced here was thus, Hestia was not a normal person, she was a goddess, a being born and raised on a completely alien mindset that had few of the normal sensibilities that anyone not born into great privilege couldn't live their life without developing.

She was a goddess, a deranged degenerate.

And she clung to her new favored toy like her life depended on it.



Suddenly, everything was about Bell.

Bell this and Bell that, almost overnight I had been reduced from the rising star of Orario, the likes of which had never been seen before, to a glorified babysitter.

And I didn't mind, to begin with.

It was apparent that she wasn't prepared for the hardship sett ahead of her and as much as I wanted to encourage her growth, I was also under the firm mindset that if children had to be thrown into the pool unprepared then they should at the very least have someone there ready to pull them out when they start flailing. (around/about?)

So, I changed my schedule, Monday through Friday became newbie expeditions, where I imparted upon her all that I had learned about the first few floors, showing her what to do and throwing her into carefully culled herds to learn what not to do.

The weekends, I firmly ruled, were days off, 'they were to be spent being a child' I did not outright say but rather delivered in the guise of a lecture about the importance of "mental health" and "the dangers of burning out".

Lessons which she, despite what your predispositions of her age-bracket and fatal diagnosis of protagonist-ism might say, bought wholesale.

I, of course, proceeded to break those rules over my knee and spend every single weekend trying and failing to catch up on my missed progress, sometimes having my mini expeditions spill over to the Mondays and blaming it on sleeping off hangovers that I hadn't had the chance to earn for weeks.

Not exactly something she was pleased with, but I only had to regale upon her one of my growingly scarce flings to bury her pouts and attempts at reprimands under mountains of blush.

Everything was peachy. Comfy, like a strenuous workout, until one night, when something reared its ugly head.



Me, it was my ugly head which reared.

That is to say, I got jealous.

Of a child.

.

..

…

Yep, that's what all this was leading up to, satisfied?

Oh, come on, can you really blame me?

I had shed sweat, blood and tears getting to the point I was now, pouring my every moment into my efforts and the most I get from my goddess is petulance?

Where was my praise? Where was my gushing adoration for lifting her from her squalor and into the comfortable life of riches and prestige?

Where was this side of my goddess, when I came back bloodied and broken, having fought for my life against a monster 3 levels higher than me?

I'll tell you where it was, nowhere! I laid there, not even getting the barest of congratulations while she pranced around and cried about how she'd finally be able to "up show that flat-board Loki!".

That was what I was in her eyes, a showpiece.

Something that slaved away day in and day out so that she could live comfortably and taunt the others for something she didn't do more than prick a finger for.



That night, I visited the hostess of Fertility for the first time.

The typical paranoia instilled in me by the Bestia preachers had kept me far away from there, they'd also made me look over my shoulder uncountable times because any feeling of eyes upon my neck could end up being that silver haired girl-next-door with a gem in her hand and a sales pitch on her lips.

But that never came, and I had heard an awful lot during my pub crawls about how few places had drinks quite as rich and sights quite as sweet as Mia Grands.

And I'm only human -er, mortal, in the end.









Which brings us to the here and now.

"a- Anot'her!" I vaguely hear myself cry, empty bottle of something red and fruity held high, my assortment of drinking buddies around me cheering tipsily as they raise their almost empty cups in response.

No surprise there, few can keep up with a level 4.

I'm not quite sure which pretty little thing that could most certainly bend me like a pretzel comes over by our chant, all I know is that I must be really drunk as whatever I say isn't understandable enough to get be thrown out the door.

All according to keikaku.



I toast my new friends and take a swig of my some number'th bottle, but no one answers as they're all glued to whatever glute caught their gaze this time.

"Wow, arrent you a sight!" someone says in my ear.

I would've spun around, a knife shooting out of my sleeve to poise menacingly by their jugular, I tell you, but in my infinite humility I settle for getting whatever I'm drinking into my airpipe, faceplanting on the table and sending a few dozen bottles to the floor.

In the corner of my eye, I spot a mop of rust-red hair, standing out amongst the sea of background characters.

"Oh, y-*hic* you" I mumble, my chin preseed against a bottle worth more than my mattress.

"Yes, me, 'spoce ("slang used by lazy internet addicts") you've heard a lot about me huh."

'Of', I think, but not enough of that voice, who knew the smith had such a smolder.

"lots" I reply, earning me a giggle that bounces around my skill like a killer rabbit on drugs.

"Oh, from Hestia I presume, all good things I hope?"

I nod along "none, jealous."

Theres a beat of silence.

"…Oh?"

"Ya- *hic*" I pause to take a breath "Mad that she ca- can't compare."

She laughs again, and it sends a spark down my spine.

"Really now, you've got so much praise for little old me?"

Can't see why I wouldn't, wish that I'd thrown myself to the ground and begged so she'd have taken me instead.



Everything is silent.

That's fine, as far as I'm concerned, because as much as that voice is getting to me, so is the pounding behind my eyes.

.

..

…

"Then why don't you?" they whispered in my ear.

The thought stills my mind, why don't I?



"I- "

Then sound explodes from the door, a blur of white rushing in.

"Captain!" your rabbit exclaims "where have you been?!"

I look to her, and down to the tabble covered in expenses.

"Ne- never mind! Let me just" and you feel hands lathing onto your arms, searching, and grasping and hoisting you up until down isn't where it should be.

You snuggle into the warmth, feeling silken smooth locks brush against your shin.

"-orry, has he pa- "Ha! Look at that lucky fuc- ""-es it's all."

Once more I hear that voice in my ear, and my all-but nonfunctional sight is drawn to a neat head of hair and a mischievous grin.

"Think about it, eh?"

And then I'm gone.

 

[Alan975]

-----------------
"Oh, go to Danmachi" A blood-soaked elf grumbled as he kneels before the bloated corpse of a slimy toad the size of a wild boar "it'll be great."
He digs around its chest cavity with bare hands, a broken dagger discarded by his side "Explore the dungeon, get cute girls, that's what it's all about!"

Now what would have our dashing lead down here in the murky depths in such a mood?
"what's there not to like?"

Could it be the crushing reality of having subjected himself with a lifetime in a death world? One where you are threatened with as much physical harm down below as social pressure up above?

Well, at least if you're anyone that matters.
But you wouldn't be reading about someone who didn't, would you.



-----------------
.
..
…


Let's set the scene, put you in my shoes.

A young man with big dreams, leaving my forested home in search of adventure at that sweet sweet one hundred and sixteen. Also, an interdimensional body-snatcher with a few advantages to my name.

With a pep in my step and a smile on my face, I sold all of my belongings that couldn't be packed in a bag and made my way to the vaunted city of the gods, the home of the spoke that made this weal of a world turn.

It wasn't a pretty journey, but I won't bore you with the details of a countryside without mass-transportation and under constant threat of monsters stronger than the average man.
Suffice to say that I got a bit of early practice in, getting the feal of combat with lethal intent and how the magics of the world worked, of how they felt flowing through my veins.

I was tired when I eventually saw the gates in the distance, my feet were constantly sore from the two months of wandering it took to get there, but all was fine now, right?

Got some funny looks from the others in the line to the gate, and the guards also found it odd that I had nothing but the clothes on my back and the entrance fee in exact change, but that was none of their business really.
I also doubt that they were paid enough to care, seeing as they had no relevant questions besides if I had any contraband or plagues on me. Proves how ineffective they were since I had both.
'But how?' you ask?
Well, in my pocket dimension of course.

What, you don't have one of those?
No surprise, it cost me a pretty penny.

Probably more than I should have spent, but I wanted some kind of instant gratification after optimizing my build for growth. And that kind of ability was one of the few that couldn't be replicated with the local magics.
Honestly, I never understood why, when people wrote of these scenarios, they thought it wise to blow their budgets on power and items which could easily be gained later, while they ignored the options that would serv them best in this new life.
Well no, that's a lie, I'd had plenty of time to consider the point.

They weren't going into it with the mindset that it would be their new life to live, they weren't truly living it so much as living through it.

They wanted to imagine their little characters interacting with the locals, they wanted to have those cool moments that they'd imagined in the shower of how they'd leave everyone speechless with just the right one-liner or some exploit that would have people screaming bullshit.

But what ultimately changed our perspectives was that they were the ones who put themselves in those scenarios, while I was not.
Not following? Weird, well let me break it down for you.

All throughout the multiverse you can find gods, guilds and trucks alike sending poor unsuspecting fools into worlds of wonder, and a lucky few even get to choose their own blessings!
Now, something that the stories don't prepare you for is how slim the pickings are, they show how you'll walk into the settings and instantly wow everyone with the wonders of Haki or whatever.

I was not offered that easy route to friendship and magic, instead I had a far more utilitarian smorgasbord of options presented to me.

It wasn't so much that I was offered a budget and sent into a store to spend it dry, so much as I had a metaphorical scale put before me on which I got to weigh out the advantages I wanted over the locals against the worth of my soul.

Not to say that I gambled with a devil so to say, rather it was explained that my soul was inherently worth more than most.
Oh, don't get so uppity now, I said it earlier, didn't I?
You wouldn't be here reading this were I not extraordinary.

Because ultimately, ordinary people do not rise to the occasion.
Sometimes someone must do a job, sometimes they step in when no one else will, but that doesn't mean that they somehow proved their metal, they were just in the right, or wrong, place at the right time.
Some people thrive due to circumstances, others thrive because they are just better.
But back to the point! I had options before me, ones that would define the path that I would need to take, and they boiled down to this: get stronger now or get stronger later.

For anyone that isn't an idiot, the choice is obvious.
Not to be even meaner to the common man, but what moron would actually go any further into option one than absolutely necessary? Beyond being assured that you won't die from random happenstance.


I'll admit that my understanding of the series is far from complete, so correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the dungeon, the monster spewing pit, supposed to be the main threat?
The dungeon isn't going to grow legs and chase you; it isn't going to send agents to drag you down into its depts or spread plagues that ravish the food supply. It just sits there and sulks.

So, why would anyone feel the need to be overwhelmingly strong as soon as they get here?
I'll tell you why, it's because they're inpatient.
They want to jump right into the juicy parts and interact with the characters that they've cherished, they want to go straight to whatever bastard they have a hateboner for and crack their skulls open.
What they don't want to do is spend time actually doing the day-to-day things that a new life requires, not unless it's purely to make the numbers go up.

I, having barely interacted with the series, was safe from this idiocy.
I was content to start from zero and work my way up, there was no one here that I had a crushing need to buddy up to as soon as possible. My priority numero uno was to live.

That might lead one to think that I should hang up my non-existent sword and become a farmer or something, and to them I'll make clear that this is a death world.

A world where monsters stalk the countryside, where gods of war and degeneracy treat society as their sandbox and it's a damn medieval setting! one where the only thing more effective than letches and amputation is magic, very expensive magic.


So you need power in this world, but just enough so you can start delving into the dungeon without getting gutted like a fish.

And how do you get said power? Through God.


Specifically, you find whichever god around here you can and beg that they'll take you on despite being a sad sack of unimportant flesh.

And here we run into another problem that the people that I've made it my mission to rag on don't think about.
You see, there's really no incentive for the gods to bless whichever poor sod that asks, a lot of people simply aren't made for adventure in the same sense that some people aren't meant to be teachers.
It's a physically and mentally straining job, if you don't have the necessary nerves then you'll be eaten alive by the little goblins that you must deal with, and adventuring is even worse.

You might think that it doesn't matter, that it's no problem for the god if the scrubs don't make it, it'll just weed out the cream of the crop for them.

First, spot on impression! That's about as much empathy as the average god has around these parts, but you are kind of missing the point.
It's not that they can't do that, but that they have a reputation to uphold.
They're a bit like politicians: everyone knows that they're degenerate, self-interested morons, but people don't care because that has become the norm for them, but there's just enough sort of decent gods around that such obvious dickishness would quickly lose them social credit.

They'd be shunned, their adventurers would be shunned, they might even be refused service in the more upstanding establishments and make enemies of the few gods with morals.

Not to mention that if some farm boy recruit, jumped up on their first taste of power, starts trouble with another adventurer then that could quickly snowball into a wargame.
Not something worth the potential of a level two sliping through their fingers.

But that's enough of that, now where was I?

Right! Normally the gods don't take on just anyone, they want the exceptional and extraordinary, so how was little old me going to make it when I so far had nothing but some arcane tricks, a so-so sword arm and the skill of a decent painter in this world?
Simple, outside information.

Because while I did not know much about this setting, I had managed to extrapolate from the insert options that I had available.

[Insert point: nine months before canon, when goddess Hestia descends] was important information.
You see, the gods here were like caricatures of their mythical counterparts, retaining surface details and, most importantly, their domains.
And what was Hestia's domain? Home, heart, and hospitality. Better traits you would be extraordinarily lucky to find.

So, with my path set, I now needed to find one single person in this maze of a city, a tall order when all I had was a physical description, dashing looks and some enhanced censes-

"You need to do something eventually. You get that right."

My ear twitches and I feel as my attention homes in on that distinctive tone of voice, tired and reminiscent of a child being told of.

"Ugh, you're being such a bore Heph, there's no reason to hurry."

My head swivels to a pair sitting outside a café, and it's like a wave comes over my senses, like I can't help but notice the tone of their skin, the flawlessness of their hair, how the very air around them seems to just feel fresh.

I know, without a doubt, in some deeper part of my psyche, of my soul, that what I'm looking at are gods.

"No, I'm being serious, as nice it is to have you around, eventually you need to get on your own feet."

It's not just the tone, the very words they speak wash over me, carrying distinctive fealings of Warmth~Inovation~Creation and Warmth~Comfort~Family, akin to how a summer breeze carries the smell of the freshly cut grass, or of the bread baking in the neighbors oven. like they're reaching into my head and conecting to my most precious of memories, the ones that that fit their domains.

"I know, but its not as if it's hard, I could do it whenever I want."

I take in the people around me, on the bustling street this fine afternoon, yet no one seems to remark upon these flawless beauties just... just being, of how their verry presence seems to weigh upon the world.
Oh sure, a few people look a little longer than normal, I notice one boy in particular drop the bag of apples he's carrying as the shorter one, Hestia, shrugs and shifts her unsupported breasts.

Am I the only one able to notice them? No, I didn't buy any esoteric senses, unless [Magic Comprehension] counts? No, I would see if they were leaking magic or some other esoteric power, what then?

The redhead, Hephaestus, exhales heavily and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Oh, so you think that you can just… What? Declare your readiness and have your first child handed to you on a silver platter?"

Sense maybe? I was specifically looking for her, The kid was drawn to beauty, probably a people watcher, while everyone else was just going about their day.

"Oh please, I know that you didn't have such a hard time, and you're no social butterfly" she pauses to take a bite of some horribly sweet monstrosity in front of her, missing the mouthed 'and you are?'.
"I'm a god, they should be happy to join me, I bet I could even get one right now if I wanted to!"

Sensing an opportunity approaching, I hurry over.

"Really now, then why don't you prove it."
"What! You think I can't?!"
"Yes" Hephestus rolls her eye, fork stabbing into something chocolatey "I very much doubt that."
"Oh ya?! I'll prove it!" she slams her hands on the table, drawing the attention of a few loitering patrons. "In fact, I bet that I can- "

I draw their attention with my fast approach, cutting off their conversation as I walk before Hestia and bow as low as I can manage.
"Goddess Hestia, please let me join your Familia."
.
..
…
"Ha! I told you so!"