#Color of Madness

[corneille-but-not-the-author]

Fire

(I challenge you to indentify every character here, there are a few hints in the notes)

I've never been scared of fire.

I know it's stupid. Mom would always tell me I should be more careful when handling the candles to light up the scene. She would tell me "Fire is dangerous, fire is destruction".

But I wouldn't believe her. Because fire is light, and fire is love.

Fire is the way I dance and smile.

Fire is light in darkness, fire is our beating hearts.

Fire is life, and that's why i wanted to reignite the flames in your heart. That's why I made you walk in flames, so that you can see they can be tamed. So that you can see there is no danger in taking risks. So that we could love each other completely without being haunted by phantoms of our pasts.

We are one, right now.

And I love you more than anything.

I've always been scared of fire.

Mom would put her hand on my shoulder, make me look at her subjects, my subjects. She would smile and the flames, in the braziers, would expand the shadows on her face, making it look like a deranged mask.

Flame is the truth, and I couldn't bear it.

It would always be the same room. Those four walls, those pillars of stone, the Kraken Coast only has one hall worthy of being called kingly. And my mother, the Queen, would sit in her throne and deliver justice.

How many peope died while I was looking at them ?

How many have I seen perish in the flames Mother held ?

That was her magic. Flames. And she would use it against anyone daring to conspire against her. Sometimes, she would wake me up, in the middle of the night, and bring me to isolated places. Then, she would smile, and command.

Dodge. Dodge. Dodge. Or burn.

"You shall be a weapon. And I shall forge you."

Fire means truth. But distinguishing my nightmares from the truth, all those memories, is so difficult, now that it's other.

Fire is a weapon. And only I can wield it properly.

I'm merely a man of the Church. A devotee under Flame and her guidance. My passion, my drive, those are not to doubt anymore.

I was scared of fire, a long time ago. Now, I am the torch. I choose who to purify. I choose who to blame. I am justice.

Because it's all it's ever been about, isn't it ? Justice is just another name for power. And now, as I'm about to be crowned King, I'm the most just man in the land.

One last detail to solve.

One last problem.

Use this weapon one last time. Unleash my goddess upon the world. Purify those ignorants, those savages. And make sure the word will never be the same.

A long time ago, a Prophet told me I would be a Key to open a new Era. And if it means dancing in a symphony of flames, I would gladly oblige.

Fire is my tomb and I need to run.

I got back to save a life.

I will save a life.

Sacrifice mine.

Is it so problematic ?

...

I'm thinking about the one I love.

It's weakening me.

I need to do it.

They need you too.

I need to save him.

He's a murderer. You're the paragon.

That's because I'm the paragon I won't. Ever. Give up.

...

I'm so sorry.

But I don't think I can take any more steps.

...

Think about them. Never surrender. You already fought the flames, multiple times. Why would those be any different ?

It's a life.

And I'm going to save it. No matter the cost.

Flames. Flames everywhere.

Why are we doing this ?

It's a fight to the death. Between Men and Beasts. One against the Horde. It's a fight to get rid, once and for all, of those who kill and devour our children.

I feel dirty.

"You're not a murderer, Kaspar"

And so I killed to prove them wrong.

"You can stop this !"

I can't. I can't. It's too late.

"You're not a bad person, Kaspar Schutz."

Shut up. Shut up. Shut. UP.

...

A melody.

A last ditch effort to save me.

You shouldn't save me.

I am the one who lit the forest on fire. I am the one who killed all those people. While trying to bring justice to the world, I ended up being a second Walpurgis.

I did start the fire. And I do not control any of it, now.

I'm so sorry.

"There is still fire in him ! It's not over !"

I have lost coun of my patients. I would say it's roughly the ninetyth pseudo-corpse I'm getting today. This one is in a particularly bad shape, though. I recognize the commander of one of those two armies which are rendering my whole body of work fucking useless, outside.

"Hey ! Do you hear me ?!"

I scream, so that he does not fade into unconsciousness. I do not care from which side he is, or who he is, I'm a doctor. Doctor never let their patients die.

Not while they still have fire in them.

"Breathe ! What is your name, my dumb fucker ?!"

"Jar...Jarghalsaikhan..."

"Good ! I'll call you Jar ! I'm Herbert, pleased to meet you !"

I crack a smile. By those who call themselves gods, we're going to loose him. I grab my scalpel. Look at all those injuries. I hear the cries of the other soldiers. I hear the plaints.

I hear the war, outside.

"Stay with me, son !"

Think of life as a bright, magnificent flame.

Think of doctors as flamekeepers, always on duty, never letting it go.

Think of my job as anything else than the blood, the organs, the guilt, the empty stares, the end.

Think.

"Think, Jar ! And whatever you do, do, not, fucking, fall asleep ! Or you're dead, you hear me ?!"

He heard me right.

My smile stays on. Good. I think we can save this one.

Fire is passion.

Fire is love.

Fire is our skins, so firmly put against one another. The warmth, the kisses, uninterrupted.

Fire is the way you move and the way I feel.

Fire is the last step before transcendance.

Fire is the seventh sky.

Fire is my love for you.

For you all.

I might be an empress. A phoenix. The fire burning inside me is nor for my ennemies, not my opponent. It's a gentle one. For loving, only. Never hurting.

There was a time I thought it was a liability.

The truth is, I do not care, now.

They may see me as weak. They may see me as feeble.

But don't they dare lay a single hand on you.

I feel so little.

I'm trapped.

A little soul in a big hunk of metal.

I'm alone.

I'm scared.

But I have difficulties to grasp what is "scared".

Should I even be able to breathe ?

I don't think i'm breathing.

My little flame is so weak.

A smile.

Another victim of my existence.

I'm very sorry.

But at the same time...

"What is a child, anyway ?"

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Okay, but hear me out -- what if his parents weren't usually red and blue?

[spacerockband]

Quetzalcoatlus! poised to spear her prey!

[abandoned-quiche]

I LOVE ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BTW. I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR HATE FOR THEM ON MY POST

[surreal-duck]

this one goes out to a certain middle schooler who wouldve been eviscerated on the spot by woke miraculous

[pbeeanjay]

owlstiel ! inspired by this post

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

teehe

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

The Bronx Zoo has just released Flaco's necropsy results.

He was not thriving, as the people championing the ideal of "freedom" claimed.

He was poisoned.

He was sick.

He was suffering.

"Freedom" would have eventually killed him. A building just happened to do it first.

"Postmortem testing has been completed for Flaco, the Eurasian eagle owl that was found down in the courtyard of a Manhattan building a little over a year after his enclosure at the Central Park Zoo was vandalized on February 2, 2023. Onlookers reported that Flaco had flown into a building on the Upper West Side of Manhattan on February 23, 2024, and acute trauma was found at necropsy. Bronx Zoo veterinary pathologists determined that in addition to the traumatic injuries, Flaco had two significant underlying conditions. He had a severe pigeon herpesvirus from eating feral pigeons that had become part of his diet, and exposure to four different anticoagulant rodenticides that are commonly used for rat control in New York City. These factors would have been debilitating and ultimately fatal, even without a traumatic injury, and may have predisposed him to flying into or falling from the building. The identified herpesvirus can be carried by healthy pigeons but may cause fatal disease in birds of prey including owls infected by eating pigeons. This virus has been previously found in New York City pigeons and owls. In Flaco’s case, the viral infection caused severe tissue damage and inflammation in many organs, including the spleen, liver, gastrointestinal tract, bone marrow, and brain.   No other contributing factors were identified through the extensive testing that was performed. Flaco’s severe illness and death are ultimately attributed to a combination of factors—infectious disease, toxin exposures, and traumatic injuries—that underscore the hazards faced by wild birds, especially in an urban setting."

The naturalistic fallacy kills animals in horrible ways. The romanticism of what humans want to think of as a "free, wild, pure life" cannot be allowed supplant the reality of injury, sickness, and death. Releasing captive animals (or keeping them from being recaptured) because it's "better" for them to suffer untethered than live a healthy, safe, captive life is inhumane and horrific.

Flaco's life didn't have to end in pain, sickness, and suffering.

Flaco's death didn't have to be tragic.

But once the idea of "freedom" entered the chat, Flaco's fate was unavoidable.

[geekpopnews]

The Color of Madness: a loucura infinita vem dos céus

Um perigo atemporal aparece para desafiar os heróis no Color of Madness! #DarkestDungeon #RPG #TheColorOfMadness

Um perigo atemporal aparece para desafiar os heróis no The Color of Madness, uma das expansões de Darkest Dungeon com novas mecânicas e inimigos! Steam História Inspirada nos horrores cósmicos espaciais, e nos filmes de ficção científica antigos, dessa vez o inimigo é o clássico meteoro sinistro que aterrissa em uma fazenda. No entanto, ao invés de trazer um kryptoniano ou uma bolha assassina,…

[charcarts]

In another life, I would have really liked just frolicking with you 🐴🦄

[soggedupfrog]

Psh, no..Idont care about davekat... thats crazy

[hel-phoenyx]

Feminity was a weird thing, now that Lycarn thought about it.

She didn't have much time to really know what that was. Little, she didn't have many dresses, her parents choosing clothes that were practical and comfortable for werewolves. She didn't have a single memory of her wearing something nice.

After the rags came the armor. At the Blood Mood, there were no dresses. Dresses were impractical. Dresses were not suited to kill. Dresses were for mothers so nothing could block them from giving birth, or allowing the children to hide under the cloth. Dresses were not for women if the women didn't give birth.

So Lycarn wore armor, and didn't look twice towards the mothers. She didn't want children, so she wouldn't be wearing dresses. They were not for her.

Still, there was that feeling back when Savannah used to cut her hair. Aside having a light head, seeing her locks on the ground while she only kept two or three inches on her scalp sometimes made her chest tighten.

But what good could hair do ? It was only protective when she wolfed out, and otherwise only decorative or downright bothersome. She had no use for hair. So she didn't keep it.

No one was cutting her hair back in the prison.

No one was cutting her hair when she ran away.

No one was cutting her hair before she stood in front of the Silent Princess, a woman with long hair and dresses and no children that she bore.

The people in Silent Moon were weird, wearing dresses or pants or armor or even more extravagant pieces of clothing for the only reason they wanted to. Keeping their hair long or short or styling it in every way possible just because they could. Lycarn couldn't understand why they would do useless things, wear useless outfits. she herself didn't feel safe if she wasn't protected by leather or metal.

Better kill than be killed.

She did stop cutting her hair.

On travels, no occasion to lose yourself in the useless. Her armor was necessary, when she crossed paths with other travellers, armies, thieves, she needed the protection.

She kept her hair long.

They said hair holds memories. Lycarn didn't need it to remember.

She still kept it.

They said it was beautiful. Lycarn didn't know what beautiful is. Beautiful was useless. Beautiful was deadly.

She still maintained it.

And then there was that boat. Where she stood before a dark elf, in armor and long hair, and was called special. Where she felt the look of the blind angel on her and her hands on her skin, and was called soft.

Special she knew. Soft she yearned for.

Today she stands in front of the women she gave her whole life to. An angel that found beauty in the low world, the doctor that healed hearts and wills alike, and the empress she pledged to protect. Her body wrapped in that uselessness she found so pathetic and is now so comforting.

One step. Two steps. A hand picking up the corners of the dress, showing the cloth embroidered with moonlight. A move of the head, for her hair now so long maintained in a tight hairdo to move around her.

"Do you like it?"

Her question was only met by smiles.

"You look beautiful."

Beautiful never was the word she was looking for.

But now that she heard it, heard it in their mouths, those mouths of those people she admired, she couldn't leave dresses behind.

[goryhorroor]

horror sub-genres: lovecraftian/cosmic

[okaydiscount]

pretend gordon said smth benry thought was funny ig idk

hes just like me fr fr

[oatmealdoodles]

Athena redesign

I mostly just wanted to add a bit more detail to her design, also giving her some more owl-like characteristics and bringing in a bit more blue. I’m really happy with it :)

no shading and old ver:

Her in the lineup:

[theenbyroiderer]

I was up until six this morning weaving in all the ends, but it is done!