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Venting Heat

Reki — Tue, 28 Apr 2026 00:11:05 GMT

File:Silver Bullet.jpg

Reki — Mon, 27 Apr 2026 23:19:45 GMT

Reki uploaded File:Silver Bullet.jpg

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Silver Bullet

Venting Heat

Reki — Mon, 27 Apr 2026 23:08:37 GMT

Created page with "The midday sun beat down on the Tracen Academy training track, the air thick with the scent of kicked-up turf and summer heat. Silver Bullet wasn't running. Not really. She was ''sauntering''. "Silver, darling, the stopwatch doesn't lie," Helen said, her voice a soft, melodic lilt. She stood by the rail, looking every bit the professional in her crisp white blouse and pencil skirt, a clipboard cradled in one arm. "That was your third interval. You were nearly ten secon..."

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The midday sun beat down on the Tracen Academy training track, the air thick with the scent of kicked-up turf and summer heat.

Silver Bullet wasn't running. Not really. She was ''sauntering''.

"Silver, darling, the stopwatch doesn't lie," Helen said, her voice a soft, melodic lilt. She stood by the rail, looking every bit the professional in her crisp white blouse and pencil skirt, a clipboard cradled in one arm. "That was your third interval. You were nearly ten seconds off your target pace. Are we feeling a bit sluggish today?"

Silver stopped, huffing a breath and planting her hands on her hips. She looked up at Helen—since she had to look ''up''—with a defiant pout.

"It's too hot for ‘target paces,' Trainer," Silver snapped, her voice whiny. "Besides, why bother killing myself now? I'll just blow past the finish line in the actual race. Training is just... tedious."

Helen chuckled, a sweet, airy sound. "The ‘actual race' doesn't happen for another month. If you keep this up, you'll be a very fast girl who is completely out of breath by the final corner."

Silver rolled her eyes. She loved it when Helen was like this—soft, patient, almost indulgent. It made it so much more fun to see how far she could push the boundaries. Silver shifted her weight, a mischievous glint entering her eyes. They were alone on the track today.

"It's just way too hot," Silver declared. "I'm overheating. Lemme just..."

In one fluid motion, Silver reached back and hooked her thumb into the waistband of her running shorts, tugging them down past her butt. She didn't take them off, but she let them sag precariously, ostensibly to let the skin breathe, but primarily to see if she could make the poised, professional woman in front of her blush or stutter.

Silver leaned back, giving Helen a smug, challenging grin. "Better. But, hey, since I'm so 'sluggish,' maybe we should just call it a day and go get ice cream?"

The silence that followed was heavy.

Helen didn't gasp. She didn't look away. She didn't even look flustered. Instead, the soft, maternal light in her eyes simply... disappeared. The smile remained, but it had shifted from a sweet one to something surgical.

She slowly clicked her stopwatch. ''Snap.''

"You're right, Silver," Helen said. Her voice had dropped an octave. The melody was gone, replaced by a cold, yet velvety precision that made the hair on the back of Silver's neck stand up. "It is far too hot for these shorts. They must be incredibly restrictive."

Silver blinked, her smirk faltering. "Uh, yeah. Totally."

Helen stepped closer, her shadow falling over the shorter girl.

"In fact," Helen continued, her voice a quiet, commanding hum, "if it's so bad that you'd disregard your training pace and expose yourself in my presence, then you clearly don't need them at all."

Silver froze. "Wait, what?"

"Take them off," Helen commanded. It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order. "Completely. Right now."

The uma's jaw dropped. "You can't be serious! We're on the track!"

"I am very serious," Helen replied, her eyes narrowing with a terrifyingly calm intensity. "Since you find the gear so burdensome, you can run your remaining laps without them. If you can hit your target pace while 'venting' that much heat, I'll buy you that ice cream. If you can't... well, I suppose your new uniform will be sans shorts."

Silver Bullet looked around frantically. The track was nearly empty, but the sheer audacity of the command left her breathless. She looked back at Helen, searching for a hint of a joke, but found only the cold, unwavering gaze of a woman who had finally reached her limit.

She realized, with a sudden jolt of panic, that she had pushed the button one time too many.

"Well?" Helen prompted, tilting her head slightly. "Unless you're suddenly feeling shy? I thought you were ''bold'', Silver."

Silver Bullet let out a strangled noise of frustration, her face turning a shade of red that rivaled a stoplight. She had tried to play the predator, only to realize she had just woken up a higher level beast.

"Fine!" Silver yelled, ripping the shorts off with a huff of indignation. "Fine! Just watch me! I'm gonna smash that record!"

"I'm watching, darling," Helen whispered, the sweetheart smile returning to her lips as she stepped back to the rail. "Now. ''Run.''"

Ziemian Phenotypes

Reki — Thu, 23 Apr 2026 20:27:30 GMT

Subgroup - Lupin

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:27, 23 April 2026
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	=== Subgroup - Lupin ===		=== Subgroup - Lupin ===
	Lupin are distinguished by their pronounced wolf-like features, including pointed ears and a thick coat of fur typically in shades of grey or black. Their inherent pack-oriented instinct often manifests as strong loyalty and a ~~dAllat Canin.eep~~ connection to their community. Thus, while their appearance can closely resemble that of generalized Canin, Lupin individuals tend to readily identify themselves as such. A key distinguishing characteristic is the texture of their hair and fur, which is generally coarser and rougher than that of other Canin phenotypes.		Lupin are distinguished by their pronounced wolf-like features, including pointed ears and a thick coat of fur typically in shades of grey or black. Their inherent pack-oriented instinct often manifests as strong loyalty and a deep connection to their community. Thus, while their appearance can closely resemble that of generalized Canin, Lupin individuals tend to readily identify themselves as such. A key distinguishing characteristic is the texture of their hair and fur, which is generally coarser and rougher than that of other Canin phenotypes.

	=== Subgroup - Volpin ===		=== Subgroup - Volpin ===

Irene Barrett/STALKER

Reki — Mon, 13 Apr 2026 17:44:34 GMT

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-[[File:Stalker Irene B.jpg|thumb|730x730px|🎨 https://bsky.app/profile/dreadtie.bsky.social (commission)]]
+[[File:Stalker Irene B.jpg|thumb|730x730px|🎨 https://bsky.app/profile/dreadtie.bsky.social (commission)|center]]
 == Story ==
 Born at the turn of the millennium, Irene Barrett was a girl who found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The child of two British humanitarian workers doing their best to provide aid in an unnamed conflict zone in the Middle East, she was orphaned suddenly and violently in an American air strike at the age of nine. With no surviving guardians and no way to leave, she spent the next year fighting for scraps in a war-torn country where she was visibly foreign and unable to communicate with those around her.
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 The Zone did not make her safe, but it made her free.

Irene Barrett/STALKER/JP

Reki — Sat, 11 Apr 2026 20:16:47 GMT

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:16, 11 April 2026
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			[[File:Stalker Irene B.jpg\|thumb\|735x735px\|🎨 https://skeb.jp/@DreadTie_tw\|center]]

	== 装備 ==		== 装備 ==

Irene Barrett/STALKER

Reki — Sat, 11 Apr 2026 17:33:40 GMT

← Older revision		Revision as of 17:33, 11 April 2026
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			[[File:Stalker Irene B.jpg\|thumb\|730x730px\|🎨 https://bsky.app/profile/dreadtie.bsky.social (commission)]]

	== Story ==		== Story ==
	Born at the turn of the millennium, Irene Barrett was a girl who found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The child of two British humanitarian workers doing their best to provide aid in an unnamed conflict zone in the Middle East, she was orphaned suddenly and violently in an American air strike at the age of nine. With no surviving guardians and no way to leave, she spent the next year fighting for scraps in a war-torn country where she was visibly foreign and unable to communicate with those around her.		Born at the turn of the millennium, Irene Barrett was a girl who found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The child of two British humanitarian workers doing their best to provide aid in an unnamed conflict zone in the Middle East, she was orphaned suddenly and violently in an American air strike at the age of nine. With no surviving guardians and no way to leave, she spent the next year fighting for scraps in a war-torn country where she was visibly foreign and unable to communicate with those around her.
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	=== Mechanix Wear Tactical Specialty Breacher Covert Gloves ===		=== Mechanix Wear Tactical Specialty Breacher Covert Gloves ===
	~~palm lining color: #c8b3d1~~[[File:Mechanix Wear Tactical Specialty Breacher Covert.png\|center\|thumb\|Mechanix Wear Tactical Specialty Breacher Covert]]		[[File:Mechanix Wear Tactical Specialty Breacher Covert.png\|center\|thumb\|Mechanix Wear Tactical Specialty Breacher Covert]]

	=== Clothing ===		=== Clothing ===

File:Stalker Irene B.jpg

Reki — Sat, 11 Apr 2026 17:31:22 GMT

Reki uploaded File:Stalker Irene B.jpg

New page

art by https://skeb.jp/@DreadTie_tw https://bsky.app/profile/dreadtie.bsky.social

← Older revision		Revision as of 00:11, 28 April 2026
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			[[File:Silver Bullet.jpg\|thumb\|Silver Bullet by https://vgen.co/Kaibootsu]]
	The midday sun beat down on the Tracen Academy training track, the air thick with the scent of kicked-up turf and summer heat.		The midday sun beat down on the Tracen Academy training track, the air thick with the scent of kicked-up turf and summer heat.

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	Helen chuckled, a sweet, airy sound. "The ‘actual race' doesn't happen for another month. If you keep this up, you'll be a very fast girl who is completely out of breath by the final corner."		Helen chuckled, a sweet, airy sound. "The ‘actual race' doesn't happen for another month. If you keep this up, you'll be a very fast girl who is completely out of breath by the final corner."

	Silver rolled her eyes. She loved it when Helen was like this—soft, patient, almost indulgent. It made it so much more fun to see how far she could push the boundaries. ~~Silver~~ shifted her weight, a mischievous glint entering her eyes. They were alone on the track today.		Silver rolled her eyes. She loved it when Helen was like this—soft, patient, almost indulgent. It made it so much more fun to see how far she could push the boundaries. She shifted her weight, a mischievous glint entering her eyes. They were alone on the track today.

	"It's just way too hot," Silver declared. "I'm overheating. Lemme just..."		"It's just way too hot," Silver declared. "I'm overheating. Lemme just..."

	In one fluid motion, ~~Silver~~ reached back and hooked her thumb into the waistband of her running shorts, tugging them down past her butt. She didn't take them off, but she let them sag precariously, ostensibly to let the skin breathe, but primarily to see if she could make the poised, professional woman in front of her blush or stutter.		In one fluid motion, the uma reached back and hooked her thumb into the waistband of her running shorts, tugging them down past her butt. She didn't take them off, but she let them sag precariously, ostensibly to let the skin breathe, but primarily to see if she could make the poised, professional woman in front of her blush or stutter.

	Silver leaned back, giving Helen a smug, challenging grin. "Better. But, hey, since I'm so 'sluggish,' maybe we should just call it a day and go get ice cream?"		Silver leaned back, giving Helen a smug, challenging grin. "Better. But, hey, since I'm so 'sluggish,' maybe we should just call it a day and go get ice cream?"
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	"I am very serious," Helen replied, her eyes narrowing with a terrifyingly calm intensity. "Since you find the gear so burdensome, you can run your remaining laps without them. If you can hit your target pace while 'venting' that much heat, I'll buy you that ice cream. If you can't... well, I suppose your new uniform will be sans shorts."		"I am very serious," Helen replied, her eyes narrowing with a terrifyingly calm intensity. "Since you find the gear so burdensome, you can run your remaining laps without them. If you can hit your target pace while 'venting' that much heat, I'll buy you that ice cream. If you can't... well, I suppose your new uniform will be sans shorts."

	Silver Bullet looked around frantically. The track was ~~nearly~~ empty, but the sheer audacity of the command left her breathless. She looked back at Helen, searching for a hint of a joke, but found only the cold, unwavering gaze of a woman who had finally reached her limit.		Silver Bullet looked around frantically. The track was empty, but the sheer audacity of the command left her breathless. She looked back at Helen, searching for a hint of a joke, but found only the cold, unwavering gaze of a woman who had finally reached her limit.

	She realized, with a sudden jolt of panic, that she had pushed the button one time too many.		She realized, with a sudden jolt of panic, that she had pushed the button one time too many.