[forgreed]

#FORGREED black strings that drip with ichor. it connects them all, moving like marionettes together. and there! she sits in her web, the puppeteer. she is oath broken (shattered by naive promise.) and she pulls ever more into her curse. do not let it touch you. she will take you.

¹ ASK. / ² MEMES.

SHARING THE HOARD WITH: @fordefy / @forwrath / @decaeys

I. this blog has no affiliation with rpc's or other groups. i curate my space often and block / soft block liberally. this a hobby i intend to keep drama free for myself. standard DNI rules apply. i am only comfortable rping with those 25+. mutuals only.

II. i take heavy inspiration from other works, including any canon character's source material but i very often am heavily canon divergent. i try to be very open where certain inspiration and ideas come from. on that note please don't steal my head canons

III. no huge rules here. just dont be a creep, keep to rp etiquette, and be polite.

: PRIZED POSSESSIONS (MAIN)

⟡ emma frost. marvel comics, unaffiliated. ⟡ luxanna crownguard. league of legends, unaffiliated, heavily canon-divergent (bio). ⟡ minthara baenre. baldur's gate. ⟡ vayle. original character ⟡ isande vanden. original character, tumblr theme. ⟡ meera. vampire original character. ⟡ issha. original character. (warhammer 40k & original universe).

: CRADLED IN THE WEB (SECONDARY - low activity)

⟡ sciel. expedition 33. ⟡ elise zavaan. league of legends, unaffiliated, canon-divergent. ⟡ ada wong. resident evil. ⟡ christine yamata. resident evil. ⟡ cassia orsellio. warhammer 40k: rogue trader. ⟡ yrilet lanaevyss. warhammer 40k: rogue trader.

: IN PURSUIT (TESTING)

⟡ ciaran. dark souls. ⟡ sherry birkin. resident evil.

: PERSONAL HOARD (Private)

⟡ rebecca chambers. resident evil. ⟡ morrigan. dragon age.

graphics cred to @fordefy & @forwrath

[forgreed]

jill shifts, realizing that the tension between them might be exacerbated by her own silence. it had been too long since she was able to think and act upon her own thoughts. being able to move without an operator, being able to decide and act upon those decisions. christine was a new addition to the B.S.A.A's favoured wolf squad. therefore jill hadn't been able to make her own judgements about the other woman yet. but it was obvious chris must've trusted her. so there they sat at the same table, supposedly eating lunch. (although jill couldn't bring herself to eat yet.) there was no flavour to food like there used to be. everything was pure texture, and all of those textures were to be desired.

"sorry, still getting my thoughts together. didn't mean to ignore you, christine. what was it you were saying about my infection?"

lips purse into a thin line as christine realizes jill is likely miles away right now. she definitely didn't catch anything she said so now she elects to eat in silence, something she's used to anyways. lunch has never really been a social affair for her, and much like she did at umbrella she eats in her lab most times. the invitation from jill was a surprise and it surprised her even more when she decided to say yes.

they've gotten somewhat familiar over the past few months. christine's specialty in all things pathological and viral makes her the obvious choice to be the one checking in on jill. she leaves the medical examinations for the doctors, but the rest is in her field. its nice to have some jurisdiction again, even if it's most imagined and could be overridden by most anyone with rank.

still. if they want results, its better to let her work. at least redfield knows that.

the changes to jill's physiology are of particular interest. color drained from her skin and hair, it's an odd side effect. and she knows there's more subtle ones -- altered sense of taste and smell, the seemingly lasting strength and agility, the fact that the t-virus is gone, to name a few.

it's become somewhat of a mini-pet project to see if any of those are reversible (not the enhanced abilities of course. jill probably doesn't to lose that. christine has never asked). at least the justification is enough to get chris to give her a little bit more access to things.

“ you don't have an infection jill. lab results came back negative. four times. ” which is a damn shame. having some samples of the T and C virus and seeing how they interact would've been wonderful. or at least even the chance to study the device, but that's been destroyed too.

“ wish i had a chance to see how that worked. ” christine mutters idly to herself. it takes a moment to realize she that out loud and she wants to bite her own tongue off. “ i dont mean it like that. just samples. ”

[knnedy]

there were very few days @forgreed didn't wish she wasn't stuck in the u.s. and was somewhere in europe (maybe spain?) at another branch of the bsaa that perhaps wasn't currently doing internal house cleaning and breaking off from the greater whole. today was one of those few days. though seeing redfield's nauseating optimism turn into bitterness was a type of schadenfreude she hadn't expected to relish, but given the difficult position he had put her in —— revoked passports, asset seizure, closing down her lab —— she took what joy she could in her now sanitized work.

christine yamata, more widely known as four eyes. she’s not hard to pick out from the rest. not when she made such a strong first impression decades ago. having the dichotomy of a wound tended to by the same person who made it does that. umbrella fucked us over, she’d said with her hands covered in his blood, precise but careful in her suture under flashlight despite the hiss of a warning in turning him into one of them if he squirms again, so the contract’s terminated. moving as a unit was a silver lining, but witnessing how much delight she took in viruses —— turning them against each other without a second thought, forcing them to mutate, her clear awe in the twisting of skin, muscle sinew reshaping itself, snaps of bone shifting —— it only made his stomach go into somersaults of revulsion, battling to swallow down the bile in his throat.

sometimes the question of what happened to them surfaced in his mind throughout the years. he’d heard about the bsaa absorbing a number of ex-umbrella after the destruction of raccoon city, followed soon after by the company’s downfall. it was possible she was a part of that number. leon still doesn’t know how to feel over being right about that one.

he trusts chris’ decision on this, the bounds of her work, but he can never quite get rid of the scalpel edge that christine brings to the table. or the look in her eye. maybe it’s because somehow his life’s always in question, reflecting off the edge of the blade. or he just really, really, hates scientists.

she had summarily dismissed everyone in the private triage tent apart from the patient, going to check and triple-check the vitals herself. throwing the clipboard onto a nearby desk, she opened her computer, starting a fresh page of notes. ❝ elpis. nemesis. tell me everything. ❞

leon's been internally debating with himself over whether ripping off the monitor he's connected to and getting the hell out of here is worth it. he's already made note of the ideal exit, ran through the best route in his head. the only downside is that he'd have to do this all over again, prolonging his own physical check up, so he doesn't. just stays with it and watches the team work—— and raises an eyebrow when christine seemingly declares something that makes them all disperse, including the doctor in charge. the silence that settles after is stifling. she moves like a snake nearing prey, seizing his vitals for herself and checking them for what feels like an eternity. then with a scribbled note, the clipboard clatters to the side, discarded in favour of her computer, sitting down in the empty chair. typing in the password, she finally acknowledges him with a flat order. ah. so the interrogation’s happening now then. he leans back in his chair, huffs a dry laugh. always straight to the point. ❝ oh, how i've missed your brand of charm and hospitality, yamata. ❞

he's glad it's not grace she's grilling for answers. talking to her was non-negotiable, he'd made that perfectly clear before they were temporarily split up. if anyone persistent enough wanted a first hand account, it was through him. which he’d hoped would be enough of a deterrent, but of course christine wouldn’t give a shit. he really hopes this won’t take long —— he's not young anymore, feeling every ache and pain, the hard chair doing him zero favours —— but if he knows one thing about her, she's not keen on sticking around either once she has what she wants out of him, so he guesses they have something they can mutually agree on here.

she’s waiting for him to answer. the vertical line blinks on the screen in the corner of his eye, waiting for input, slender fingers hovering over the keyboard. something tells him starting with the big bang won't land well, so he clears his throat of that one, grimacing at how dry it is. he has an idea of which she’ll pick first, but hey, maybe she’ll surprise him. ❝ i think the real question is which virological discovery fascinates you first. ❞

[forgreed]

“ and you're always so cooperative. you'll have to file a complaint about my bedside manner. ” christine deadpans, with a roll of eyes, right index tapping on the plastic surface of the desk in rapid succession signaling impatience. she's somewhat aware of @knnedy's situation with the DSO, NSA, former president, etcetera. there's some kind of comraderie between them she figures -- wronged by umbrella. escaped raccoon city. and they're in some kind of faustian bargain. the soul of her research, her passion, for her life. it's a wonder what leon gave up for his, but he's still in the field so maybe the price is quite literal.

doesn't make the fact that it feels like she's crawling and begging for every scrap of cutting edge pathological research feel any better.

the rasp is hard to ignore and she click her tongue in annoyance. she grabs one of those mini plastic water bottles from the shelf beside her and uncaps it, sliding it across the table to leon. “ and the real answer is everything. drink first. dont need you getting hoarse. then we'll start with the easier one: nemesis. ”

she cuts the edge out of her voice, hiding her irritation. not at leon, but the whole damn situation. she wants to ask about elpis first but she can't. cards need to be kept close. there's probably not enough leon knows for her to make any sort of breakthrough with it but a chance is a chance is a chance. a friend's ( comrade? commander? savior?) life depends on it. ( a debt that still needs to be repaid. )

“ what was it like? did it seem... aware? it was a person before that last evolution right? what did that look like? ”

[eviefyres]

PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2

over a year ago, i made this meme & since then, it’s blown up. so, over a year later — i thought i would make a new one. so here it is, after several requests & a pile of brains,  THE PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME 0.2 send me a  ✿  and i’ll fill out the template below. bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /  [ your muse ] is the good influence  /  [ your muse ] is the bad influence  /  [ my muse ] is the good influence  /  [ my muse ] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /  [ your muse is mines ] childhood crush  /  [ my muse is yours ] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [ from your muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from my muses side ]  /  unrequited [ from both sides ]  /  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]  /  soulmates  [ literal ]  /  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [ on your muse ]  /  cheating [ with your muse ]  /  other 

FAMILIAL.     siblings [ half ]  /  siblings [ step ]  /  [ my muse ] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /  [ my muse ] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /  [ my muse ] is a parental figure to yours  /  [ my muse ] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /  [ your muse ] is taken under mines wing  /  [ my muse ] is taken under yours wing  /  other

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based of professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

[forgreed]

in a weird twist of fate that only 2026 could bring, im starting to read Power Rangers comics

[forgreed]

Christine had been called in for an emergency medical 'consultation', which she knew was bullshit for Redfield needed her expertise on something undoubtedly viral or parasitic in nature, with a 50/50 on whether or not it was related to Umbrella somehow.

One of the few things that excited her now since beginning her mandatory stint as BSAA's expert in virology. Though with the way Redfield had threatened her this time, this one was likely much more personal than the previous specimens.

Wearing a basic respirator now, a far cry from her full face covering she wore as a UBSS operative, she walked into the medical room and for a moment she struggled to recognize the patient before her. Blonde, female, 30s, pale skinned, and markings on her sternum that looked like something was attached there. It wasn't until she looked at the patient profile that she realized who it was: Jill Valentine.

"Holy shit." Was all she managed, breaking her usual cold and stand-offish demeanor that was as close to civil as she could normally get. "We all thought you were dead."

@forwrath

[forgreed]

muse update.

+ christina yamata, resident evil (secondary) + sherry birkin, resident evil (testing) + yrilet lanaevyss, rogue trader (secondary)

[forgreed]

quick change. savra -> vayle. i like the name better and think it fits.

[forgreed]

I feel like everytime I get back into BG3, I have SO much motivation in Act 1 and part of Act 2 because my entire goal from the outset is 'recruit Minthara' and then after it's like 'okay well now what'.

[forgreed]

❝ you never mentioned this before. ❞ billy @ rebecca!

" There hasn't really been a time to bring it up, Billy. " she says, giving him an incredulous look before turning back to her small case placed on one of the stainless steel tables of the lab. She sighs deeply - they'll probably have to burn the case after this ordeal since the risk of infection would be too high. " And before you get any ideas, I do prefer my labs sterilized and cleanly, and also missing any of the zombies and leeches that are roaming around, " she says with a wry smile.

Taking a few reagents collected in sealed flasks from the case, she prepares an area somewhat clean enough to continue her work. Instructions she had found on the lab's only working computer had guaranteed that mixing the reagents and the subsequent solution that would be created would be stable, but she doesn't really trust an Umbrella guarantee as far as she could throw the desk this was all setup on. With an abundance of caution, she mixes smaller amounts of each reagent together in an empty flask and just watches. First for a minute, then two, then five. When the solution only barely reacts as it's stable on the table, a sigh of relief escapes her and then she mixes a larger amount - enough to make an acidic solution for the convoluted lock that kept them from investigating further. From her case she pulls a cylindrical tube and pours the liquid in, sealing it with a resistant cap, and hands it to Billy with a grin. " Jill is better at lockpicking but I have my own methods. Just... don't spill it on yourself. "

[forgreed]

I love resident evil and I love re.ecca but I realized I never played Zero so I started playing last night and-

SHES SO PRECIOUS AHHHHHHHHHHH anyways I'm playing on hardmode and died and didn't save enough so RIP

[forgreed]

excuse me there's a dema.cian leag.ue cinematic and my GIRL ISNT EVEN IN IT!?

not like they could ruin her lore any worse i guess

[forgreed]

let me in, i'm about to be problematic

get out of here, train boy

[forgreed]

✧ sender stares silently at receiver. ( lucretia @ minthara

amethyst hues gaze into the campfire, mind lost in thought. she thinks of home. of foolish arrogance. of regrets. she clenches her fists and they still ache from the shackles of the moonrise tower, how they clamped so tightly and dug into her skin and flesh. vain like any other drow, but she never found her scars ugly. they were testaments. to survival and superiority.

these scars though. they were ugly.

oh how she begged for forgiveness, pleaded for the absolute's mercy. pathetic, no better than any slave of menzoberranzn. she'd forgotten her pride, her dignity all for some hollow deity that forced her submission and veiled her eyes through devotion and worship. how her screams echoed uselessly under the interrogators trying to break her. and they would have, if not for her savior.

the reflection of gold cast her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see the paladin staring at her. the drow could only laugh and smirk, taking a more welcoming posture. ' do you sit there to just gape and awe, my love? ' she teases. a familiar feeling swelled in her chest and she fought to stave off the anxiety to stamp it down. dashing away her previous thoughts she stands, grabbing two goblets and stealing wine from a certain vampire's unsecured stash, she sauntered her way over the woman and sat beside her.

after pouring the wine, she handed a goblet to the elf. ' tell me your thoughts, or do you simply wish to stare? ' she smiled.

no, the feeling was different. it was love and devotion but for something tangible, for the woman before her who together they would see the gods, false and real alike, burn.

[forgreed]

muse update

+ rebecca chambers, resident evil (private) + morrigan, dragon age (private) + elise, league of legends + meera, vampire oc + issha, warhammer 40k and various other verses oc - revenant shuffled some other muses around too

[forgreed]

// legit been basically on the verge of tears all of yesterday because of our dead car. dealership called and said its fixable, it'll be done by wednesday most likely and the cost is not as bad as we thought. the RELIEF

[forgreed]

Where Demacia's Light does not reach, we work in her shadow. For where there is darkness, there will always be a Dawn. - Entrance of the Inner Sanctum to the Radiant Order

" New book there, lass? Glad to see it. " greeted a portly man with a wide smile as he entered the cramped kitchen that could barely be described as such. " Y'know, you keep at it with those books and you'll be up in one of those fancy spots up in the capital, or Zeffira, or that one place with the raptors. High something. Real noble-like. " He was snapping his fingers, trying to remember the name. " Silvermere. "

There was young woman with bright red hair tied into a simple ponytail sat at the kitchen table, turning a page in her book. "You're thinking of High Silvermere. " she said simply. " Ah you got it! See, Raechel? Fancy spots. Nothing like we 'ave here. Wood, fish, and people. Mostly wood. " The girl named Raechel gave a smile. " Nothing there like the braised ribs Mrs. Redding makes. Or your stew. Dress it up a little along with some biscuits and you'd be the talk of the town in Silvermere. Can tell the nobles the meat is from wild and rare Vaskasian elk and they will fall all over it I would think. "

That got a good laugh from Mr. Redding. " Nah. I'm too rough for their blood. Plus, I'm happy to do my part here for the Kingdom, long as I get paid of course. Family has got to eat. " He said, reaching for a mug deep in the cupboards. " And what part is that, sir? " The man gave her a curious look, pouring a drink into his mug that smelled vaguely of elderflower and berries. " We get wood, for the boats. Wood for the walls and buildings for the places that don't have that, and I say this respectfully, awfully white stone. "

" What about housing apostates and runaways? " Raechel asked, putting her book down on the table, keeping it open to where she was reading. Mr. Redding looked apologetic. " Ah come now. The Kingdom aint all bad. In time I'm sure it will come to treat you lot with the respect you deserve. Like us! No skin off our backs to house and feed ya for a few days before the boats come anyway. Hasn't bitten us before to do a bit of good. " said with a bright cheery grin.

There came a knock on the door and Mrs. Redding's voice came from another room to announce she would get it. Raechel went back to reading, seemingly satisfied with the answer. The man leaned against the counter, drinking his beer, content in the quiet.

A moment later, the door was smashed through and armed soldiers clad in silver and gold rushed in and within minutes the house was subdued. Mr. and Mrs. Redding, along with a few apostates hiding in the basement were rounded up outside, everyone but Raechel who was the last to leave the house. She stepped onto the grass casually, placing a placeholder between the pages she was reading and closed the book and went to stand at attention beside where Mr. Redding was now on his knees.

A man in white robes laced with gold trim walked up to examine the line of people now gathered, stopping last at the young woman. He gave an indignant huff, taking a piece of paper that she had now offered. "Send an abomination to do a seeker's job and all you get is a piece of paper. " The seeker unrolled it and his face went pale -- it was a list of every collaborator in Vaskasia along with addresses, routes, and possible benefactors from other cities. " Dismissed, Agent. " He said begrudgingly. Luxanna only gave him a smile and saluted before walking to the carriages the Dauntless and Seekers rode in, opening her book once again to continue where she left off.

As a consequence of Demacian law on mages, the youngest Crownguard was given to the Illuminators at a young age. With shackles made of petricite, she was escorted to the outskirts of the city, to a building of pure white that made her feel weaker and sicker for every step closer she took. There, along with others afflicted with the arcane, she waited and wept. The promise of teachers and healers that would show her how to control or cure her of the curse through her veins rang ever hollower as the cells beside her grew emptier with each passing day.

It didn't take long, however, before the Radiant Order -- a secretive organization with ties to the Mageseekers and the Crown -- appeared and took an interest in the young magic-adept. Taken apart from the others, she was brought to an open field to be evaluated on her sorcery. Unlike her short time with the Illuminators, she was encouraged, or otherwise forced, to dip into the well of energy she felt buzzing beneath her skin in demonstration. In an uncontrollable burst of light and energy, she scorched a line from her to a nearby tree setting it ablaze and all but blinding the Radiant Agents with her.

Her power was the light itself and seeing the immense potential within her, as well as the advantages as having a daughter of one of the reigning noble houses of Demacia in their order, the Radiant soon inducted her. No longer an apostate, she was now a tool in an order she had no familiarity with but would soon learn their, and now her, purpose: Protect and otherwise serve the interests of Demacia within and without her borders through means otherwise deemed dishonorable or below the responsibilities of the military. No method is too low, no target is too high.

The next decade of her life was torturous as it was lonely and isolating. Radiant initiates were kept separate and often were forced to compete against each other for certain privileges, keeping them at odds with one another to vie for the approval of their handlers. They were to be broken and then molded into tools and weapons fit for any and every job the order would need them for. Each initiate was expected to be completely independent and ruthless. Missions would take them to unfamiliar locales that were behind enemy lines or otherwise hostile to their true nature.

Mock scenarios would see them placed in the wilderness -- the desert, snow capped mountain, the woods, beached along an unknown coast -- to test adaptability. At first it was together, then it was alone. Then in cities with unfamiliar customs and languages, with unknown ties and allegiances within the Kingdom, then without. Mock assassinations, information gathering, scouting. At some point the mock missions turned to real ones and they only realized when fewer and fewer initiates came back. Senior agents watched their every move and those who tried to escape were punished swiftly and severely.

Early on, Lux held onto hope that her family would save her somehow, as if they weren't the ones who had given her over in the first place. She prayed to The Protector for it to come soon but it never came. A year passed before her prayers stopped, it took another for the tears. Realizing she was alone, truly alone, she threw herself into each trial and scenario. If she was not the child the Crownguards had wanted, then she will become the tool that her nation needed.

It wasn't until her brother joined the Dauntless and pleaded to their aunt for her release did the young Crownguard finally see her family again. " Your family has successfully petitioned for your release from our custody, " they would say and it made her furious.

Petition? If it were her child or sibling, she would see half the capital burn for their return.

The reunion with her family was a well-publicized and seemingly joyous occasion. The youngest daughter of one of the high houses of Demacia had returned from a years long trip to see the world. The mask of the truly loyal and loving daughter, happy to be home was impeccable and none were the wiser.

In reality though, she held no love for the name. Only for her brother. It was for him she kept the peace.

When the celebrations ended and the public moved on to the next news cycle, Lux threw herself back into the Radiant Order. As a mage she would never be free of them, but working for the order had its perks that she wasn't keen to lose. As long as she performed well and at least seemed loyal, she had freedoms others did not. Her ability was unmatched and her talent for espionage and infiltration unrivaled. She could be placed anywhere in Runeterra and would succeed beyond all reasonable expectation.

For every situation she had a mask. And not just a mask, a story. Each was believable, each one felt real and genuine. Masks for her family, her order, and her nation. Masks that could fool Ionian monks, Freljordian witches, and Noxian nobles. In her cell as an initiate she had resolved that the Radiant would never break her, and they never did. But she may no longer remember who the girl was without the mask.