wasted steel


dinopants sketch

i wanna color it but i seem to really have built up a habit of starting things and never finishing…………………..

that’s what summer’s for right

(finished ver.)

088-DRUMBOIL [Drum-Oil]
-The Waste pokemon
-Ability: Toxic Zone* - Heavy Metal(HA)
-Dex: “This Pokemon came to life from a pool of toxic waste that was not propely dispossed. Since its body is too soft to mantain a proper form, it shelters itself in a metal drum that becomes part of its own body.”
    -Acid Spray
    -Iron Defense
    -Acid Armor

–>Evolves at lv. 38<–

089-POLUSTRIAL [Pollution-Industrial]
-The Toxic Pokemon
-Ability:  Toxic Zone - Heavy Metal(HA)
-Dex: “This pokemons corrosive body is able to eat trough almost any organic matter, and even some metals. Using pipes and industrial junk, this pokemon is able to construct a shell strong enough to hold its highly acidic body.  ”
    -Gunk Shot
    -Heavy Slam
    -Sludge Wave

*Toxic Zone “As long as this pokemon is out on battle, any pokemon entering will get poisoned, if an already poisoned pokemon enters battle, it will get badly poisoned. Doesnt affect poison or steel type pokemon”


“Invisible threads are the strongest ties.”
Friedrich Nietzsche

Maddox is hesitant to use certain words, because they are tied to emotions he no longer feels. They are illogical, unnecessary, but then he remembers and uses them anyway, because he sees in the faces of those with whom he speaks, that they mean something. His link to the fade and to part of himself is gone, but he recognises that connections are important, even if they no longer resonate with him.

He becomes astute at reading people, and even those non-tranquil who say they show little emotion, always have tells. A subtle tilt of Samson’s mouth, eyes widening or narrowing in response to reports from his red Templars in the field. A bark in his orders that doesn’t always have bite, shows a reluctance to send them to a certain death. There’s stiffness in Samson’s posture at the mention of the Master being displeased or his shoulders slump when a soldier succumbs to the transformation instead of being renewed.

These tells help him get by when Samson is gone, and his dealings are only with soldiers who don’t know – or trust him.

There are times when he’s working that memories of love surface, a ring of chainmail that drops against the stone floor, or the bright shine of embers, glowing bright when disturbed. He knows it was agreeable and gave him great pleasure, but now it’s foggy and meaningless.  He sees a soldier crying in pain, she has copious tears as the lyrium first burns her skin and her veins pop. When he burns himself on the forge, he feels an intense sensation, but is it pleasure or pain? He knows it’s important to remain connected, like that ring of chainmail is nothing without links to others, like the ember that burns is nothing without fresh dry wood, so he comforts the soldier as best he can.

When Samson brings him his broken Kirkwall sword he knows it’s a lie when he says it’s only because it would be a shame to waste such fine steel. He sees Samson’s eyes shine when he says ‘Kirkwall’ and a twitch in his shoulders as he hands him the broken blade. Samson says Kirkwall is just a memory, one that he looks upon that shaped who he is, but it no longer influences him. Maddox tilts his head and questions why then, does Samson still wear the Kirkwall standard? He sees Samson’s jaw lock into place and the glisten disappear from his eyes as he looks away and doesn’t answer.  In this instance, Samson’s lack of words tells Maddox all he needs to know, so he questions no further. 

His own memory of Kirkwall is of a face he once called pretty, a lock of hair kept close to his heart, paper birds, scattered.  That’s all it is, images without significance.  But it’s important to Samson, these connections, so he bends and works the blade to what it once was.

part i | part ii | part iii

sakura hears nothing but a faint buzz as she buckles down to her knees. her mind whirs through different ideas and different scenarios. and, somewhere, something frantic continues to echo: sarada is missing, sarada is missing, sarada is missing. it takes her a moment to realize she isn’t breathing, and when sakura inhales sharply, it finally occurs to her to cry. not tears, for there’s no time for weeping, but a choked whine, the sound of scared, threatened animal.

she swallows. she counts between breaths and thinks.

sarada is missing.

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anonymous asked:

Ok but clexa is the very definition of soulmates complementing each other. Lexa is impenetrable on the outside but so tender and fragile on the inside and Clarke is so caring and soft on the outside but her core is relentless steel. Such wasted story potential