#dvarapala

[davidstanleytravel]

An image of a Dvarapala or gate guardian peers through a doorway at Banteay Srei Temple, 25 km northeast of Angkor, Cambodia.

[midnightactual]

18: it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

[ For Choose Violence Ask Game ]

18. Tsukishima is indisputably the strongest counter-character in Bleach and could beat Aizen, Yhwach, Kenpachi, Yamamoto, Azashiro, Kuruyashiki, and so on with a single hit each if they were unable to figure out what was going on in time. He could separate Aizen from the Hōgyoku and Yhwach from the Soul King with one stab by altering their pasts so they never did those things in the first place. That's how strong he is.

He's also far and away the most interesting overpowered character because his abilities inherently draw out characterization from his opponents. Facing him shows how a character thinks and treats people, and can inherently serve as backstory exposition.

All this and yet he doesn't care to use his powers unless directed to by Ginjō. Unquestionably the most interesting, understated, and underused antagonist/anti-hero in the series. The ultimate deus ex machina.

[escapedartgeek]

@dvarapala

[x]

"that's very true. i think it's definitely time to find something to eat. is there anything that you have a craving for?" zora is now feeling like they could go for something good to eat and now they are looking around..

[dekadangoriya]

[emmatriarchy]

Starter for @dvarapala

Injured after a run in with Lobo, the former princess was 'hiding' on Earth to recuperate and heal. She had heard that the mercenary hated this planet -- and it was the planet of Guy and Jack, the two Lanterns she felt closest to (along with Kara, who also chose this planet as her own after Krypton was destroyed).

Blue skinned and with bony wings, she wasn't wearing her full Red Lantern garb but some clothes she found after crash landing, the red ring on her finger the only indication of her affiliation. She wasn't going to seek medical help from humans, she was fairly sure this backwater planet had no idea how to care for alien (to them) beings. Her injuries were also not that severe, she could heal on her own if given some time.

Feeling better in nature than cities, she found a park and sat on a bench, her quest for lodgings could wait for a bit. If it came to that, she could find shelter in this very park.

She noticed some young person eyeing her, and she returned the gaze. She assumed that person had never seen blue skin or bone wings before. The clothes were concealing most of her injuries, but she still looked battered and bruised. The ring translated what she said into this area's language. "Don't you have better things to do than stare?" she asked, tilting her head, trying to intimidate the person by staring them down.

[brotherforgotten]

@dvarapala

"You weren't really asking. ... Right?"

[tiderider]

his upper lip curled back in a soundless snarl, teeth bared with a mixture of disgust and anger. the isle might have been a cesspit but at least he could see the shit for what it was. auradon dressed their streets, buildings, and people in gold and sunlight to distract, but beneath the shine and the pearly white smiles, auradon was rotten and the people in it had traded their freedoms and their values for false security. a gilded cage was still a cage.

harry met udyati's warm gaze as she spoke. to conform to auradon's idea of personhood felt like it would be a betrayal, not only to the isle or to uma, but to himself. how could anyone bend themselves into a shape for others just to be digestable? he could already see the way that the others were changing, how easily they slipped into the new world, shedding their skins to become something unrecognisable. he was pleased that udyati had no intention of following their lead.

❝ that's what i like to hear. ❞ harry praised, his expression shifting into one of pride and satisfaction. ❝ it's me and you against the world now, ud. you wanna shake things up with me? ❞ // @dvarapala , continued from here .

[tempportal]

@dvarapala l continued from x

Five has barely even stepped through the door, and he's already completely and totally overwhelmed. He prepared himself pretty thoroughly, or so he'd thought, for a great number of unpleasant receptions when he finally accepted one of Gaira's incessant invitations last week — it could very well be an ambush after all, his sworn nemesis and a couple of her fellow superheroes lying in wait for him, ready to attack the instant he came inside, but that sort of underhanded trickery simply doesn't correspond with Gaira's usual behavior, so he'd dismissed the theory almost as quickly as he'd postulated it, and moved onto likelier hypotheses.

Perhaps she had just wanted to see if he would actually fall for it, see if he would actually allow himself to believe the tentative bit of... trust friendship whatever they'd established during their alliance against the Puppet Master would still hold up now that they no longer shared a common enemy. Perhaps she had just wanted to exact a bit of vengeance now that he was finally willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she would laugh in his face when she saw him on her front porch, because god, Five, who would ever willingly spend time with you? did you seriously think we were actually friends, or something? believe me, I'm not that desperate! and then she'd slam the door on him, go back to her quiet, villain-free night with her mother, and forget all about him.

Or perhaps she gave him the wrong address. Perhaps she just wanted to ensure he understands that the nebulous, nameless Whatever they established during their alliance was a product of forced proximity, and it would never survive concrete reality. Or perhaps she was being genuine when she invited him, but she's changed her mind since the last time he saw her, and she'll send him away with one of her sheepish, apologetic smiles.

Any of those outcomes would be perfectly fine, of course. Five isn't particularly fussed about them. He does not desire Gaira's acceptance in any form or fashion. He does not desire anyone's acceptance in any form or fashion. He's above such trivial things.

Still, he has a very specific procedure in mind for each and every one of her potential reactions, so it's... surprising and unexpected and a little bit terrifying when he doesn't have to use them.

Because Gaira (or, Udyati, technically, since she's not in costume right now, but using her civilian name is a very slippery slope to being friendly, and he is above such trivial things, remember, so he refuses to do anything that could ever possibly be construed in that manner) positively beams at him the moment she lays eyes on him, her whole face lighting up like a Christmas tree, and immediately unleashes a barrage of information that he can't even begin to keep up with. There's something about vegetarians in there, for sure, and also something about Diwali (which he knows is a Hindu holiday, but that's about where his knowledge taps out) and then she tosses out a bunch of names he only sort of vaguely recognizes, and he's trying to match them to the faces of all those annoying little friends of hers, and then she's telling him to leave his shoes in the hallway. Five's skin prickles at the very thought, itching with discomfort — the convenient thing about teleportation is that he can just leave a situation whenever he feels like it, but the inconvenient thing about teleportation is that he has to keep all his essentials on his person at all times for a quick escape and, personally, he would very much consider his shoes to be one of those essentials. How is he supposed to get out when this whole thing inevitably turns sour if he doesn't have his shoes?

This was a mistake, Five realizes, blind panic and burning shame twisting up around each other like twin serpents in his stomach. This was a terrible, horrible, foolish mistake, one that he should have known better than to make — one that he did know better than to make, if he's being perfectly honest with himself. This was an absolutely imbecilic mistake, and he needs to go back to the lair right now, while the evening is still semi-salvageable.

But.

He doesn't.

Five pulls in a deep breath, leaves his shoes in the hallway, and follows Gaira deeper into the house.

Now that he's finally taking a proper look around (mostly to try and distract himself, so he doesn't go completely off his chump and blink away before he even reaches the kitchen) he's struck by what a nice house his nemesis lives in. his lair is something of a palace in comparison to the boys' home, but this is something else entirely. it's wonderfully warm, especially in contrast to the cold autumn wind blowing outside, with electric lamps throwing golden pools of light everywhere. The floorboards remain steady under his feet, and the windowpanes are intact. He wonders idly if this roof leaks something awful when it rains, or if the inside gets as dreadfully cold as the outside in the winter, like his lair.

But, to tell the truth, the luxury isn't what really catches his eye, as fantastic and unbelievable as it is. It's the touches of life all around the place — the throw pillows and afghans on the sofa, the decorations on the walls, the framed photographs on every available surface, pictures of a much younger Gaira grinning at him from all possible angles.

And then he's in the kitchen, caught in the eye of another storm of color and light and noise, and his breath trapped somewhere in the back of his throat as he tries to figure out what he's meant to do in this moment, and how Gaira's mother could possibly smile at the boy who's left her daughter with more bruises than he can even count.

(Gaira did the same thing, he realizes, when she opened the door and saw him on her porch. No one has ever looked at him like that. No one has ever been happy to see him.

This can't be real.)

"...Okay?" Five says, finally, when his sticky-slow brain eventually registers her offer of chai, like he has any clue what chai is. It's not like he'll turn his nose up at it, whatever they serve him — any food is good food, after all. You take what you can get and you count yourself lucky every night you don't go to bed hungry. He winces at the sound of his own voice in his ears, so small and pathetic in a way Number Five never is, and quickly tries to get back some modicum of control. He needs to do something, he needs to distract himself from the absolute clusterfuck going on in his head right now. "I-I can... help? With the table?" Is that allowed?