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“Love is a word that is constantly heard,
Hate is a word that is not.
Love, I am told, is more precious than gold.
Love, I have read, is hot."

"But hate is the verb that to me is superb,
And love but a drug on the mart.
Any kiddie in school can love like a fool,
But hating, my boy, is an art.”

There are plenty of love stories out there, but this meme is about its equal and opposite, hate. Well. Maybe not hate, but dislike or conflict.

1) Post your character and the sorts of conflict that's suitable for them. It can be full-on murder attempts between mortal enemies or down to petty bitch eating crackers. Fights or hatesex or trying to hide your hate in public.

2) Seek out others and match up the negatives.

3) Feel the hate.

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Info.

As an anarchist ultra-violent vigilante, Deadlock can get negative CR with just about anyone. But he has a special hatred for the forces of order (especially agents of governments and empires but like, a superhero or cop could do it) and the 1%, but he’s all about picking fights with anyone he considers to be harmful.

I’m also really into Deadlock just being stuck in some really awkward situation with someone he doesn’t like, but doesn’t deserve to be stabbed.

Gemini's a shapeshifting terrorist who'd be contemptuous of any machine. Could make a fun dynamic if they have to co-operate for said awkward situation?

Also she can safely be stabbed-won't hurt her xD.

Sounds wonderful! I would find it really funny if the situation was something entirely mundane, and it just happens to be between a pair of freaky terrorists who can't stand each other, but plenty of options are available. Teaming up to destroy a mutual enemy leaps to mind, maybe something along the lines of just coincidentally encountering each other in the middle of trying to bring down some company or country or whatever.

Or the old classic of putting them in a fake jamjar where everyone has to work together because the only way out is the power of friendship or something like that.

Honestly I'd be happy with any of those scenarios, even if it's just the two in a bar somewhere sniping at each other!

[he's an executive member of the yokohama port mafia, aka a bad guy, aka very easy to hate. but it's also fun to have pettier negative cr, bc chuuya is easy to piss off and can absolutely hold a grudge.

being an executive member, he does have to occasionally play nice on his boss' orders, so it's easy to come up with an excuse to avoid straight up fights. but if you want fights, i'm down. if you want hatesex, i'm also down.]

(BITCH EATING CRACKERS. RIGHT HERE. Here for pettiness. Yen is extremely gifted in magic and knows it. Arrogant and very willing to be petty to fellow mages.)

(Megalomanic, arrogant, really really old. Charismatic and vaguely delusional about who he is amassing power for. Here for everything up to attempted murder)

{{As the oldest Wolf School witcher, Vesemir contends not only with several centuries of his own questionable choices, but represents to others the worst cruelties of his order. It's only natural he can rub people the wrong way. Voice testing.}}

There were many reasons Lambert detested the winter season. Chief among them: having to part ways with his Cat, having to trek back through Kaedwen and up into the Blue Mountains, the fucking cold, being trapped in a place he desperately wanted to burn to ashes, and (last but certainly not least) having to spend the whole season cooped up with the very man responsible for everything Lambert hated about his life.

Aiden's invited him to go winter with Dyn Marv every year, but Lambert always turns it down. Aiden calls him a fool, and then they make plans to meet back up in late spring. Then Lambert makes his way north, because he knows if he doesn't return, he can't rub his survival in the old man's face. That was the sole reason he made the trek up before the snows closed out the passes every year. Spite hurried him up the mountain, fueling his every step. By showing up to Kaer Morhen each and every winter, it's as if he's saying, "See? I lived another year. You haven't killed me yet, you bastard." Seeing Eskel and Geralt was just a bonus.

Now, he trudges up the last bit of the path to the large main gates, his horse plodding along beside him, saddlebags laden with supplies. Just because he hated coming back to this torture palace didn't mean he intended to suffer the whole time.

He shoves two gloved fingers into his mouth and lets out a shrill whistle to try and get the attention of whoever might be inside.

The head that pops over the rampart probably does nothing for Lambert's mood, the grizzled visage of the old fencing master looking down at him.

"Well, Lambert's the first home. That makes a change." The old wolf barks, before he disappears. A short time later, the gate mechanism grinds and the gates yawn open before Lambert. Vesemir waits in the courtyard so he can close the gate again, as much as it had ever kept anything at bay.

"Well, fuck," Lambert groans at hearing he's the first to make it this year. He really could've used the buffer of one of his older brothers. While he waits for the gates to open, he strokes his horse's nose to try and soothe the beast (and himself).

As the gates open wide enough for him to enter, Lambert leads his horse through and heads straight for the stables. No sense in standing around waiting for the old man to get the gates shut again. As soon as he gets the mare into a stable, he starts untacking her as quickly as he can. The poor mare deserves as many apples as she wants for making this trek.

The gates grind closed again. Vesemir approaches the stable, determined but wary. Lambert has been a volatile presence under his roof since the moment he arrived and Vesemir never knows what he's going to be dealing with.

He stands with his hands on his hips, surveying the mare and the heavy load she carries.

"Looks like your season paid well." He comments. "Hand me some of that, I'll give you a hand."

"I can carry it myself just fine," Lambert grumbles. "Don't have anything better to do, old man?" Once he's gotten the saddle off and hung up, he starts to brush her down, because he knows he'd get chewed out if he didn't. He waits until he's finished that task to fish an apple from his bag and hand it to the horse, along with a few extra parting pets.

"It was a great season. I even brought back some of those spices you like, from Toussaint." Contrary to what he'd said, Lambert hands a lighter bag off to Vesemir, then motions for him to lead the way.

Lambert can't be faulted for his extra diligence: there's always something scrutinizing in Vesemir's gaze, and more often than not a reproach or correction on his tongue.

He hefts the bag over his shoulder with a sigh. Not every offer of help is an aspersion cast on the young man's abilities, but intent never seemed to make a difference to the boy.

"Well, that's very generous of you, Lambert." He says, with a note of surprise. "That ought to liven up dinners for a while, eh?" In the right hands, of course.

Lambert follows after the old fencing master. "Yeah, I figured we suffer enough out on the Path, might as well eat good while we're here." He very carefully avoids calling the old keep "home". It's never felt like one to him, even though he'd never known a proper home to begin with. He's sure he'd know one if he experienced it.

"How am I the first one home? Would've thought Eskel would be back by now."

"The other two must have had to travel farther afield to find work." Vesemir shrugs. And sometimes Eskel has an urge to wander, though it's very rare to see him riding home with the winter storms nipping at his heels. Lambert is usually the one who dawdles on the Path and Vesemir knows exactly why. And yet, he comes back every year. Don't think Vesemir doesn't hear him piss and moan to his brothers about how he'd rather not, however.

He lets the remark about suffering drop. It wouldn't do any good to start taking the bait so early.

The old wolf shoulders open the door to the great hall, where he already has a nice fire going. He does try to keep it welcoming, even if they'd lost a few more windows and some of the more far-flung rooms had to be entirely boarded off now, not fit for anyone but the rats and doves.

Lambert nods as he follows the old Wolf into the great hall. Once the warmth hits him, he can't help the pleased sigh that escapes him. Vesemir isn't rising to his bait yet, so he may as well let himself relax.

"I got lucky in Kovir. They always pay better, and the summer markets always host merchants from all over," Lambert offers. "Didn't wanna waste hard-earned coin trying to stretch my season out this year." He carefully leaves out the fact that his travelling companion had been called south earlier than usual.

"Looks like things have been quiet here."

"Pretty quiet. The usual. Some of the upper chambers were damaged badly in the summer storms, I've boarded them up. Nothing in them, thankfully." He moves through to the kitchen, on the other side of the vast fireplace where sits his armchair with its stack of books and bottle of pepper vodka. Clearly he's been settling in for a cozy winter himself. "There will be plenty to keep busy with, repair-wise." He declares, as he deposits his parcel on one of the kitchen tables and begins putting things away.

Rather than heading right to his room, Lambert drops his bags in the great hall and takes a seat in front of the fire. He's tired from the trek up.

"Don't see why we gotta waste time with repairs. It's not like there's still a horde of us to come winter up here. And, thank the gods, it's not like you can torture a new batch of boys into becoming witchers anymore~" He leans over to swipe the bottle of pepper vodka and steal a swig while Vesemir's still up puttering around.

Starting early this year, eh? And without the buffer of his more sensible siblings to shut him up. Vesemir sighs, tying up a bundle of garlic by the stove.

"Because we still live here, Lambert." He says, shaking his head. "This is our home. There's no reason to not maintain it as we maintain all other things necessary for us to live."

"'S no home to me," he mutters. He probably should keep his mouth shut until Eskel or Geralt arrives, but...he can't help it. This place has never felt like home. "We could always find a better one, you know. Somewhere warmer, where the walls aren't constantly crumbling down around us."

"Lambert, please." The old wolf huffs. "You have been home less than an hour and you're already at my throat." He looks at Lambert through the open fireplace and his yellow eyes just look tired, rather than angry. "We both know I'm not going anywhere." He sighs. "Do you want something to eat or are you just going to sit there and growl at me like a kicked dog until Eskel comes home?" Eskel was always so good with wounded animals, his younger brother included.

Drinking on an empty stomach probably isn't the best plan, if Lambert doesn't want this winter to be wholly unbearable, so he stoppers the bottle of pepper vodka and places it back beside Vesemir's chair. "I could eat," he answers quietly. "Should probably put my stuff away, too."

He gathers up his bags and carries them to his room, deciding to unpack while Vesemir cooks.

It's the closest he's going to get to either a confirmation or thanks, so Vesemir takes it with a roll of his eyes. Nevertheless, when Lambert returns to the hall, there's a bowl of something hot, some kind of spiced potatoes and mushrooms with a long fillet of smoked trout, at the corner of the table closest to the fire. A bottle of brown ale cool from the cellar.

The old witcher is in his armchair with one of his books, boots propped on the fender.

"You seem in good health." He says, after a while. "No serious injuries on the road?"

Deadlock 💀 ABC Warriors

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nakahara chuuya | bungou stray dogs

Yennefer of Vengerberg | The Witcher (Netflix and/or book canon) | ota

The Darkling | Grishaverse/Shadow & Bone | ota

Vesemir || The Witcher (any) || OTA

*in Lamb's mockery of Vesemir's voice* PAPA VESEMIR

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Alex Price | InCryptid | OTA

in Lamb's mockery of Vesemir's voice PAPA VESEMIR