#proto undead

[lenorethequietbookkeeper]

"In the war ravaged territory north of the city, a corpse-copper amalgam retreated into the dark.

The forgotten magic granting it animation also corrupted the ruined streets to fit its need, the utmost of which was to heal.

Like the philosopher's stone, its presence turned dirt to gold, and the gold morphed into a plethora of unwholesome machinery, born with the sole want to assist their master.

As its form was peeled aware and repaired, the automaton became painfully aware its humanity was long gone, for it had decayed during those decades it dreamlessly slept in the steel sarcophagus containing his body."

[bumpscosity]

Finally finished Fungus and Titan! I'm so glad I wrote out little paragraphs of their lore in their bios when I got them bc otherwise i would've forgotten all of it 💀

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

RAISING THE DEAD WITH THEIR TRADEMARK, POWERHOUSE PROTO-THRASH.

PIC(S) INFO: Mega spotlight on English rock and roll band MOTÖRHEAD posing in London in shots now titled "Zombie Motörhead" and "Out of the Fog," c. December 1980, during the band's "Ace of Spades" era. 📸: Fin Costello.

And I say this with the utmost respect, but the Motörmasters are looking like true zombies right about now in their "organically deteriorating" phases -- "EVERYTHING LOUDER THAN EVERYTHING ELSE!!"

Sources: www.picuki.com/media/2126298992420927114 & Press Reader.

[petite-phthora]

Sometimes all you need is a little trust

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first… murder? - part 21]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

They sit there in the dark for a while, in embrace. After a moment, Danny leans back, shifting to lay his head on Jason’s shoulder. The tears on their faces slowly dry as they are ignored.

Neither knows how long they sat there in quietude before Jason breaks the silence.

“Let’s… try this again…” He takes a deep breath before speaking up next. “I told you about the Pit, how it… how when I’m under its effects, I lose control.” He runs a trembling hand through his hair.

Danny doesn’t speak, letting Jason talk.

“It’s just that, whenever I feel the Pit, it’s usually accompanied by anger and rage but… Ever since you killed the Joker, ever since we met, it’s changed.

“Instead of anger, the Pit feels calm. Instead of throwing things and beating people up, I made chocolate fudge.

“And don’t get me wrong, I don’t miss the madness. But something made it change, and I’m not sure if I can trust that change… and I think that something… has to do with you.” He ends, looking at Danny.

“Well…” Danny puts his hand to his chin as he thinks “Ghosts are beings of emotion. It’s part of how we’re formed, it’s part of our language, and it’s part of our being. While your ecto has only ever been projecting rage to you before, I think I can at least theorize the reason behind the change.” He starts.

“I think a large part of why you came back in the first place was revenge, which initially made you a revenant. But that was before you were thrown into what I can only assume is some sort of pit with corrupted ectoplasm, which is what turned you or, well, tried to turn you, from revenant to halfa.

“The ecto stitched your undead body and soul together, brought back your mind, and tried to form a core within you, but the corruption prevented it from doing so. So it was only able to give you the beginnings of a proto-core, which is what made it difficult for me to sense you until we were close enough when we kissed.

“And this is currently keeping you in a constant state of being on the verge of core formation.” Danny takes a breath before continuing to hypothesise.

“You mentioned it was the Joker that killed you, and that the change in emotions happened after he died. To me, it seems like one of the reasons, if not the reason, you crawled out of that grave in the first place was to avenge your death and kill the Joker.

“As ectoplasm is largely emotion-based, the contaminated ectoplasm you gained from that pit probably latched onto this anger and want for revenge and held on to it. The contamination is what likely increases your feelings and what makes them able to overtake your actions, as it were.

“After he died, the major driving force behind you being undead, and behind the rage, was gone. As a revenant you should have gotten peace and gone back to being fully dead, your soul finally able to move on.

“But the ectoplasm within you that was left behind must’ve fused your soul back into your body again, not letting it escape as the revenant rage left you. This, paired with the beginnings of you becoming a halfa, is probably why you stayed.

“With the revenant rage gone, the pit likely can’t hold onto that specific emotional range any longer. So instead, it latches onto any emotion you currently feel in the moment, which again, since he died, is probably more peacefulness and happiness due to being avenged. So now the corruption will amplify those feelings instead.

“The amplified feelings might also lean more towards the happier side because of me being around. Either because I was the one to avenge you, or because your ecto could have recognised me as the same as you and been calmer because of it. Though…” Danny trails off for a bit.

“I have also heard from other ghosts, I sometimes just have that effect on people as crown prince” Danny says, rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly.

Jason had been vaguely following along until the last comment stunned him. “You’re a fucking prince?!”

Danny waves him off unconcerned. “That is something I’ll explain later. There is a lot of other context you’ll probably need before I’ll be able to explain any of… that…”

Jason lets out a breath and runs a hand through his hair once again. “Right, yeah, sure. We’ll come back to that.” As he’s trying to make sense of what he’s been told, Jason decides to get into some of the other concerning stuff Danny mentioned before.

“So… your parents… built an artificial Lazarus Pit?” He tries instead.

“Well, I guess? It’s more of a portal. It doesn’t exactly heal or harm anyone going inside, it just brings them into the Ghost Zone.”

“Right… Where’d they even put it that their children could easily access it?”

“Their lab in the basement of the house.”

“Their lab in the basement?!—”

“Yeah… Looking back on it, I guess the house was practically one big OSHA violation, huh…”

“There was more than just the lab basement?”

“Well, yeah, and I guess the dungeon and the Emergency Ops Center that can turn into the Fenton Blimp on top of the house are another big part of it”

Jason gives him an appalled look.

“A lab and a dungeon?! Why do your parents have a dungeon in their house? I thought parents were some kind of scientists, or like … ghost biologists?! ”

“Mhmm” Danny nods in confirmation. “Technically they’re ecto-biologists, but they also just call themselves ghost hunters.”

“And you’re a ghost?”

“Half ghost. And you are too. That’s what halfa stands for”

“Right, yes. We’ll come back to that in a bit. But first, did your parents know about… “

“About me being dead? Nah, they didn’t. Well, they do now, but not back then.”

“Have they ever hurt you?”

Danny turns his gaze to the side uncomfortably as he considers the question.

“Well…”

“Danny—”

“I guess, not really? I mean yeah, they’d chase after me with guns yelling about how they were going to rip me apart molecule by molecule—”

“They what—”

“But dad’s aim is shit and after a while I began getting better at dodging mom’s shots—”

“They shot at you?!” This seems to give Jason some kind of revelation “Don’t tell me that’s why—“

“But they’re really not that bad. They’ve never actually intentionally hurt me while knowing it was me, their son. But, they’re totally fine now! 

“Like yeah, before they knew they gave me a tough time sometimes, but to be fair they really didn’t know I wasn’t some evil ghost there to hurt and destroy.

“And at least they weren’t like the GIW, you know?”

“No, Danny. I don’t know. But please tell me you know this wasn’t okay?” Jason throws him a troubled look.

Danny frowns, shifting to sit up straighter. “They didn’t know—”

“Maybe not,” Jason cuts in, “But that doesn’t mean it was right or that it didn’t hurt you anyway. The fact that they didn’t know doesn’t make it any better.”

“They never hurt me seriously enough that I couldn’t recover—” He tries to protest.

“You shouldn’t have gotten hurt by them at all! Not physically, and not emotionally,”  Jason states, giving Danny a pointed look. “You shouldn’t have had to recover.”

Danny shifts his gaze towards the ground with a frown, picking at the grass a bit with one of his hands.

“You sound like Jazz,” He responds with a small grumble.

“This Jazz sounds like a wise individual to whom you should probably listen more often.”

“She is” Danny admits with a sigh. “And you’re right, I should…”

A beat, and then “I’m sorry for shooting you”

“It’s fine! It didn’t hurt me and it’s not like I haven’t been shot at before—” Danny tries to reassure, but Jason shakes his head.

“No, Danny. It is not fine. I shouldn’t have done it. And you shouldn’t be used to it.” He says decisively.

“But—”

“Nuh-uh, nope. It is not fine. I should not have done it. Period.”

“You likely had a good reason—”

“I did it because I wasn’t sure I could trust you,” Jason replies.

“I mean, you appeared out of nowhere, basically avenged my death, affected the Pit and made it act in ways it never has before, and then finding out you might have connections to the League?

“I just, it—It scared me” Jason confesses. “And I couldn’t deal with that fear.”

“So, I used my good old Red Hood interrogation techniques to try and get answers. You know? Shoot ‘em in the calf or thigh so it’ll be painful for them without being lethal and make it harder for them to get away.

“But while those are explanations for what I did, none of that is an excuse. There is no excuse.”

“That’s not true.” Danny tries to interject with a shake of the head.

“I’m a terrible person who has done terrible things.” Jason interrupts.

“Not just to you, but others as well. I’m dangerous. I’ve hurt innocent people. I’ve hurt my family. I’ve almost killed some of them— and not all of those times were because of the Pit, either!” Tears have formed in the corners of Jason’s eyes.

“Hey, I’ve killed someone too,” Danny objects, “The Joker counts, and I don’t have a Pit.” He tries.

“Danny, you did it on accident, and if anything the Joker definitely deserv—”

“Well, then I guess I must be a terrible person too” Danny cuts in. “For liking you despite all of that”

“Danny…”

Danny ignores Jason and grabs his hands in his own before looking him back in the eye.

“Maybe you’re not good for me. Maybe I’m not good for you. Perhaps we’re not good for each other, not good together. Terrible together“ Jason opens his mouth to say something but Danny quickly continues, not letting Jason get a word in “But I’d still like to give this a try. To give us a try.”

“Maybe it’ll end in disaster. Maybe it won’t, but… I’d be willing to take that chance… together… If you’d still have me?”

“Danny, I interrogated and shot you. Not just with bullets that didn’t hurt you, but also with a ray gun that you gave me that did hurt you. If anything, I should be asking you if you’d still have me despite all of that.” Jason says, clearly distressed, a few stray tears now rolling over his cheeks.

“And I doubt you’ll pull anything like that again, will you?” Danny asks with an eyebrow raise he learnt from the countless amount of times Jazz threw it at him.

“God no—”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“Danny—”

“We can go to couples therapy,” Danny states resolutely.

“Danny—”

“We can each go to normal therapy as well.” He adds on.

“Danny—”

“Jason Todd.” Danny interrupts. Jason stills. “Will you be my boyfriend?”

After a beat of silence, Danny adds on “On the condition we keep up clear communication between the two of us, and perhaps look into getting some form of therapy, of course”

Jason lets out a slightly exasperated huff and wipes the tears away, before giving Danny a soft look.

“You’re too trusting.”

Danny lets out a hum.

“And you don’t trust enough. But I’ve heard opposites attract, so…” Danny pauses. “What do you say?”

Jason gives him a small smile.

“If you’d still have me?”

The response is immediate.

“I do.”

Danny places his hand on Jason’s cheek.

“May I?”

Jason nods.

They both lean in, and they kiss.

---

Jason feels the Pit stir and resolutely ignores it and whatever feeling it brings with, keeping his eyes closed and gently pulling Danny in closer.

You’re not gonna ruin this for me.

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing @i23432i @imsotiredfanficlovertm @jaguarthecat @arkita-shadow @noideawhatshappeninghelp @jaitwin5 @apple-juice16 @mossy-bonez @harvestandhearth

[whereserpentswalk]

All of these are at around the same power level. None of them look fully human, though some look more human than others. Sorted from eldest to youngest.

[honkuh]

Here comes Proto the Rotten ("Chara" = Character -> "Proto" = Protagonist)!

They're one of the soul-extraction human survivors that you can encounter in the world of SPINswap. They may seem creepy on the first glance, but that's not true. Proto is one of the kindest monsters (yes, undead = monsters) in this world that don't mean any harm. You can even hang out with them and listen to their brother's (TOPAZ') music albums! They're also the one who's drawing all of the album covers! Isn't that great?

[see-arcane]

Worst match-ups for Jonathan in the Classic Vamps Line-Up?

Oh man

Lord Ruthven of "The Vampyre"

Would definitely be thirsty to alternately drink him or torment him because the guy has a kink for making virtuous pretty young things deader, miserabler, and/or insaner than they started. But, all things considered, I think Jonathan would either side step him or relieve him of his head--the Vampyre is shown to be fairly limited in his supernatural juice, preferring to use his own knives to open throats rather than chomping. Jonathan could take him.

Clarimonde

She would be fiending for Mr. Holiest 'I would kill and die and blaspheme in every direction for my beloved' Love so fast. But, seeing as she is not Mina, no sale. Jonathan would scramble out of psychic reach the second he got airdropped a little ;) from her and feel ashamed about daring to think a stranger was pretty. No amount of loving or hedonistic pspspsps will get him back either. Sorry, Clarimonde. (Talk with Mina though, maybe if you get a permission slip you three can work something out)

The Family of the Vourdalak

Good news! No risk of romantic entanglement, also for Mina reasons! No crush on the vampire patriarch's daughter! Bad news. Jonathan's still going to Jonathan and that usually means unwittingly endearing himself to nice strangers he shares a roof with. Someone's going to get attached to him in Gorcha's house -> threat of being targeted by the Vourdalak 'turn who you love' curse. And honestly, unless he kicks into the spontaneous super speed that got his ass through the Carpathians, Jonathan might get got here. These Vourdalaks are sturdy enough to walk off heart impaling and attack en masse as a shrieking tidal wave dedicated to Not Letting You Escape. The narrator of the original short story only made it because he had a horse. If Jonathan was solo? No telling...but his odds aren't good.

Countess Dolingen and the Undead Village of "Dracula's Guest"

Proto-Jonathan made it out of their reach via Dracula saving his ass. Finished Jonathan? It depends on him being Pre or Post-October 3rd. Human Jonathan out on a little nature walk? Probably gets got. Enigmatic Cryptid Jonathan, fresh from lopping off Dracula's head? Dolingen and crew alternately A) Keep their distance of B) Toss him a gift basket (also from a distance).

Carmilla

If she's sticking to her known MO, she's likely not interested in Jonathan. But if it's down to a confrontation, my money is actually still on Jonathan, pre or post-October 3rd. Carmilla is not a fighter. She infiltrates, she drinks a victim to death or undeath, and she ditches. If he makes it to her coffin, it's over for her. (It's over for her much faster if she happened to target Mina or Lucy, but I digress)

Helen Penclosa of "The Parasite"

Somehow she keeps winding up in vampire anthologies despite being more of the 'hypnotism/possession' villain type, but if she's good enough for the anthologies, she's good enough for this list as a psychic vampire. In brief: Jonathan loses. He loses bad. If he does not have outside help or she doesn't helpfully croak out of her own poor health, we are never seeing this boy again because Penclosa is puppet mastering his romantic ass out of sight forever. No contest. RIP. (Don't worry, Mina will handle it. But still. Not Jonno solo.)

[monsters-conquer-the-world]

OOZEPUNK

WHAT IS OOZEPUNK?

Oozepunk is the term I'm coining for the microgenre of urban heroic sci-fi horror-fantasy that first exploded in the mid-80s with movies, shows, and comics like Ghostbusters, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Toxic Avenger, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, Hellboy, Street Sharks, and others. Lots of natural crossover with Biopunk and Cyberpunk, aesthetically and philosophically.

Your childhood trauma didn't let you forget Roger Rabbit heavily featured colorful nightmare slime, did it?

A ragtag gang of weirdos (often horribly mutated--more on that soon) band together to save a city that doesn't understand them. Grimy sewers, abandoned buildings and graffiti'd brick walls are lit up by neon lights, streams of mysterious, glowing goo and/or the unearthly lights of futuristic particle weapons--ideally all of the above!

Beyond the "cracked concrete and gutters full of liquid plutonium" aesthetic, Oozepunk prankishly asks "What if catastrophic aberrations of science, particularly DUMPING TOXIC FUCKING WASTE STRAIGHT INTO THE ENVIRONMENT created fucked-up monsters... but they're HEROIC fucked-up monsters!" These catastrophic aberrations of science grant the heroes incredible powers, but COST them their place in human society. (Ghostbusters and Roger Rabbit eschew character mutation in favor of discovering that the undead and olde tymey cartoons are real [and exploitable!], respectively. 'Busters and 'Toon sympathizers alike are treated like insane idiots and/or frauds in their respective universes.)

Oozepunk heroes are challenged not only by strange supernatural beings, but by human society itself. The Ghostbusters battle with local politicians as much as they do the undead. In the recent (and delightful) TMNT: Mutant Mayhem, Splinter warns the Turtles of humans and their obsession with "milking" mutants for their blood--on top of the villainous mutants they're trying to thwart!

Crank up the creep factor in Oozepunk and you get awesome anti-establishment goo-horror like 1988's The Blob, The Stuff, Street Trash, and probably a bunch more. Toxic Avenger is a batshit crazy splatter-comedy (i.e. classic Troma)... and still garnered sequels, a kid's cartoon and toyline!

And there's a Shredder's Revenge-style Crusaders beat-em-up coming out next year??

This looks dope as shit

Ghostbusters and TMNT are the only current, "evergreen" (or radioactive green!) Oozepunk franchises I can think of off the top of my head, but Oozepunk elements are buried in almost all of the stories and settings I love the most. Heroic kaiju like King Kong, Godzilla and Gamera paved the way for our freaky friends, but so did comics characters like Fantastic Four's Ben "The Thing" Grimm, The Hulk and Swamp Thing. Hell, I think I blame SESAME STREET of all things for starting me down the Oozepunk path.

Surprise! I've loved screaming trash monsters with secret hearts of gold since I was a fucking baby, and they've ALWAYS been there for me!

But it's not just Oscar, Sesame Street as a whole is a proto-Oozepunk utopia, years before the big Ooze-splosion of the 80s. Muppets, monsters, talking animals and chill humans all live and work together to scrape by with a little dignity in a gritty-but-wholesome urban world!

Sesame Street, a decades-long reminder that educational childrens' programming can and SHOULD be cool as hell looking and loaded with all kinds of friendly mutant freakuloids.

OOZEPUNK! Whaddya think?

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

part 11- a thousand candles burn into the night

"When the ashes start to rise and the moon falls from the sky and a thousand candles burn into the night. When the angels softly cry on the flames below the sky, would a thousand souls still pray for you and I?" -Day of the Dead by Hollywood Undead

Masterlist Part 10

Just like the summer air began to cool into autumn winds, Jasmine and Jason began with a heated tension between them that dwindled into a slow simmer of what neither of them wanted to jinx by calling it love. 

Both were aware of how unnatural their connection was, how quick one was able to trust the other with simple thoughts that roll off the tongue- Jazz’s favorite tea, Jason’s favorite book, her younger siblings, his many brothers. It was obvious that Jason held some lingering anger towards those he called family, but it was an old wound, infected yet healing. When it came to more in-depth questions about Jazz’s siblings, Danny and Ellie, there was a sad tinge to the affection. Jazz missed Ellie with every fiber of her being, but her little sister was free as her heart desired. 

Jason spoke at length about his own, eventually admitting his anger issues that had led him to attempted murder on one of the younger boys, Tim, that he deeply regretted. 

Jazz had only to listen, because who else could understand the deeply rooted rage that came with betrayal? 

One slash, two, three

Blood is on your hands already. 

Fourth, fifth slash

Ask the ghosts if honor matters, buried amongst the ash. 

Slash six, seven

Sharpen your love into a weapon

They went out on several dates, each one special and lovely, but Jazz’s favorite was being wrapped in familiar arms as they watched Pride and Prejudice on Jason’s couch. It was a comfortable warmth that lulled the redhead into a deep sleep, the best she had gotten in a long time. 

Jazz was the first to wake, lying on Jason’s firm chest and ear pressed firmly to where she could hear a faint purr from his Proto-Core, she felt no compulsion to move even though there were things she had to do as Regent and as Jasmine. 

She had to talk to Frostbite, because she needed to understand why she was so connected to Jason. It frightened Jazz, to have her emotions so sharpened towards someone she hadn’t known for very long. 

(She was in love.) 

Her own Proto-core purred in tandem with Jason’s, happiness bubbling up in her chest. This was a peace she never wanted to let go, regardless of the reason why the two of them were brought and bound together. 

Jason was in love. 

There was zero doubt in his head or heart that he was fully committed to his darling Jazz, the beautiful woman who understood him in ways no one ever had. With her, the pit remnants were calm and he was happy. 

Happy. 

Sheer happiness was in his grasp, in his arms and resting on his chest as she slept. Her long hair smelled like strawberries and he never wanted to leave. 

Yet, bat-trained paranoia reared its ugly head in moments like these. 

Jasmine Nightingale was, by all accounts, a civilian with a trust fund who cared for her younger brother. No other records were found that could tie either Jazz or Danny to crime, but Jason didn’t want to see them if they existed anyway. He hadn’t even met Danny yet and the kid, despite being prime adoption bait, was already one of Jason’s favorite people. He made Jazz proud with his intelligence and good-natured attitude, so Jason would do his best to form a good relationship with the kid. 

He guessed he should be more concerned with how quickly he fell for his darling, but he wasn’t. It felt right. It felt safe. Like he could trust Jazz with every thought, every dream, every hope, every nightmare and she wouldn’t run away. He wanted her, plain and simple. 

Thankfully Jazz was more or less on the same page as him. 

She never had to say a word about how she felt for him, it was obvious in the way she would gravitate towards him, want to be around him, talk to him, simply be with Jason. How honored he felt to be gifted such attention by Jazz. 

He didn’t know how to tell her about Red Hood though. 

The Nightingales lived outside Crime Alley’s borders, in a shitty neighborhood of Gotham recently claimed by two new vigilantes- Phantom and Regent. 

Jason tried to shove back the horrifying images of a vivisectied Phantom, screaming, sobbing and whimpering, but he would ever be able to forget. 

The video of Regent killing the Fentons was glitched, but cross referenced with the Ghost Files, it was obvious the Regent of Now and Then were the same woman…entity that saved Phantom, no, avenged the ghost kid. 

The fact that the Fentons death prevented a war was karmic justice, in his humble opinion. 

Yet, there was something familiar about the Regent. Something that called to him on a baser level… as if he knew the entity behind the helmet. 

But that was ridiculous…right? 

Right? 

Jazz was going to kill him all the way this time, Danny bemoaned while in flight. He really stuck his foot in it this time and yikes, he really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. 

He just had to go behind Jazz’s back and give the Ghost Files to Batman instead of Superman or Constantine. Big and blue wasn’t available when Danny found an opportunity and for shame if he wasted it! Sad trench coat man being there was really just a bonus, honestly. 

With the Acts getting the League’s attention, it was time for a desperate move on the part of the GIW. 

They infiltrated Gotham. 

Danny had no idea how they had found a way past the border Lady Gotham kept a tight leash on, but the agents were able to pick up his trail with a lucky break on their end. He had a haunt in Gotham, which meant his ecto-signature was strong in that area and weak in others. A glaring neon sign of where the Phantom often could be found. 

But Danny would never give up his haunt again, not without a fight. 

This haunt didn’t just belong to him, not like Amity had. This had become the home of the Nightingales, the Phantom and the Regent. They had shed blood to claim it and would shed more to keep it. 

If it meant admitting to his mistake, then so be it, that’s where he would start. 

“Bold of you to assume I thought that far ahead.” Was probably not the best response to Jazz’s irate question of ‘Did you even consider what Batman, Mr. Contingencies-out-the-ass and minion-acquisition-instead-of-therapy, would do with the files?’ 

Needless to say, Jazz wasn’t impressed. 

She had been rather happier lately, with her boyfriend Jason constantly in her orbit, but responsibility still weighed on her. 

(Danny’s fault, he was aware, but he still had so much growing up to do before he was ready for the crown.)

Getting the AEA demolished was sure to take some weight from her, even if it would be only the beginning of resolving the repercussions of the United States’ crimes against the Infinite Realms. 

It would be years before it would be considered repaid, the blood shed and existences snuffed out. The deaths of the Dr. Fentons were only a consequence of their actions, not truly recompense for the torture they inflicted on the people of the Realms. 

(Danny never told Jazz, but he knew they didn’t die when the portal was destroyed.)

(He knew his sister had killed their parents to save him.) 

(He still didn’t know how to feel about that.) 

Lady Gotham offered a sad croon as Phantom curled his form under a gargoyle’s wings, the heavy rain an ironic ambiance for his mood.

There was nothing he could do about the GIW in Gotham until they showed themselves and they were doing an unusually good job of keeping on the down low. If it hadn’t been for the frantic screeches of the friendly shades and a few blob ghosts cuddling him for comfort, he would have been caught off-guard by an attack. As long as he stayed out of his haunt for a while, let his signature be caught somewhere else, then Jazz would be able to defend their home until he could deal with the bastards. 

He just needed to wait. 

Jazz had been livid with him admitting his fuck up with the files and deeming the GIW’s presence his fault for claiming a Haunt. With a threat to hug him and make him talk about his feelings until he no longer believed such a lie, Jazz agreed to remain in their Haunt until he could draw some of their forces away. Lady Gotham’s ecto-siganture would be enough to scramble their trackers once further into her city and she would subtly lead her Knights to the agents when able. 

It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough.

Phantom curled his tail around his laid back form, mimicking a cat as he texted Sam and Tucker with updates. They had sworn to visit him during Summer Break, but the Halfa wasn’t holding his breath. Gotham wasn’t safe for them. It wasn’t safe for anyone and that’s coming from a kid who can punt a building into the sun at a moment’s notice. 

Amity was (laughably) the best place for them. 

Phantom wasn’t really paying attention, absentmindly petting a blob ghost that was cuddled into his side, when he was joined by none other than the Red Hood. 

Badass armor and weapons aside, the Hood was an Antihero he admired. The avenged dead sung his praises for all who’d listen. 

And… he was very familiar. 

Red Hood possessed a Proto-core, one he’d sensed before in his own home….with Jazz. 

It couldn’t be. There was no way the Fenton luck could be that wonky that his big sister was dating Red Hood of all people, Jason Todd when unmasked. She had to know right? There was no way Jazz could miss the Proto-core signature of the Once-Revenant they’d housed for a while. Was Jazz okay with Jason’s past? Sure, Red Hood didn’t kill much anymore, but he was still a crime lord who thought severed heads in a duffel bag was a great gift to leave on someone’s doorstep, like a particularly picky cat. 

“Uh, hi?” 

Hood crouched down, rain blocked by his huge body, water droplets dripping off his red helmet. The white lenses gave nothing away as the Anti-hero spoke, “Hey kid. You ok?” 

(Danny was well aware of how gentle and caring Red Hood was towards kids.) 

(He couldn’t wait to be an uncle.) 

“I’m fine, dude. Just chilling.” 

“Under a gargoyle in Gotham?” The disbeliving tone made Phantom snort in laughter, because wow not the scariest concept to a halfa. 

“Hey, it was either this or the sewers. I wouldn’t be caught dead,” Phantom chuckled a bit at his joke. “Down there without hazmat gear and the Anti-Creep stick.” 

Hood snorted, the sound stackity through the modulator, “Fair enough. Don’t get caught by the big bat, ok? He doesn’t like Metas in his city.” 

“Oi, being dead is a meta-cal condition.” 

“Ugh,” Hood groaned, “a punster. You’re not dead, kid.” 

“‘Fraid I am, my good dude. Fourteen and fried alive, zero outta ten, would not recommend.” 

“...You’re a ghost?” 

“Right in one! Name’s Phantom.” the Halfa offered, seeing no point in correcting the Anti-hero. 

“Red Hood.” 

“Dude, I know. The shades sing your praises given half a chance.” 

“Shades?” 

Phantom shrugged, “The restless dead, unable to pass over without a lot of ectoplasm.” 

Hood didn’t ask what ectoplasm was, which surprised the Halfa. Did Batman share the Ghost Files with Red Hood? 

“You’re from Amity Park, right?” 

Phantom cringed at the name of his former haunt, anger bubbling in his gut, “I died there. I haunt Gotham now.” 

“....I’m sorry.” Even with the modulator, Hood sounded genuinely sad for Phantom. 

(Batman definitely shared the Ghost Files with the Anti-Hero.)

“Are you alright here? Do you need help?” 

Phantom shook his head, “The GIW invaded Gotham tracking my Ecto-signature, so I’m leading them away from my Haunt.” He raised an eyebrow, “You should be careful too. You’re a pretty strong liminal, but they’ll still try to capture you.” 

“No, they won’t get me. Phantom, where’s your haunt?” 

If Hood was anyone else, Phantom would keep his mouth shut. A Haunt is sacred, a home for a Fraid, it was not some measly address freely given. Yet, Red Hood was also Jason Todd, Once-Revenant Death-claimed Champion turned Proto-core Liminal dating his older sister. If Jazz trusted him enough to date him, then it was good enough for Phantom to offer him a place in his Fraid. (He really couldn’t wait to be an uncle.)

A/N: This was beta-read by @meditating-cat, thanks!

The little bit at the end there... foreshadowing, perhaps? Ooh... all those baby names I could give a Hardcover kid.

Perhaps, perhaps not. Who knows. I have the end of this series mostly planned out, but it could likely change.

Thanks for reading!

[lenorethequietbookkeeper]

"A temperamental young man inadvertently set himself ablaze and brought his home to its knees.

The little good in his soul was rolled into a small pearl, so it may be delivered to his mother in the blooming grotto.

Unfortunately, the man's mind remained with his body, a charred slave to his own sadism.

Instead of paying his debt in Diyu so he may rejoin the living, he pulled himself through a mountain of ash and fire, taking on a new layer of incendiary flesh."

[dinthoqaf]

(Not so) Dearly Departed

Journal Entry - 5471; Ammaelin's Arrival

The Operation had started off well enough. Skormosh, Nepenth, Varethuun, Ryo, Nezzok, and Runeva. Squad didn't fit given their strengths and abilities. These people stood up and over the common rank and file, not just by a head's height either. Each of them was a mountain amongst molehills, capable of downing dozens of people on their own if not far more. So the decimation of my Brothers forces was meant to be a cake walk, putting it into simplistic terms. What we expected and what we got was anything but. A trap, the best I can put it. I had assumed we were the one setting the ambush, but looking back at the accounts, I can only assume Ammaelin knew we would move and put his forces out as bait. He sacrificed them and it paid off. The Sanctum showed up and began to summarily dispose of those who'd gathered and amongst the fighting, a priest managed to send off a signal and in his usual gallant fashion, came riding in on his proto-drake, and slammed into my people like some sort of holy meteor, immediately putting their actions to rest.

I watched them through the Sanguine, curious to see if they could handle his machismo only to discover that every effort, aside from the few lucky strikes that managed to get past his defenses, did absolutely nothing. Magical in nature, surely. I need to find out -why- his fortitude has grown so strong over the years. When he interfered on behest of that god damned goblin and his half-breed wife, he didn't boast this sort of strength... Something has changed. I grow distracted though with my thoughts, as this entry is meant to be one to categorize events over hypothesization. When it became apparent those within the Sanctum weren't going to be able to handle them, I decided to insert myself into the ordeal, only to be summarily removed from play before I could even properly assimilate from my transference. Ammaelin's hammer, a relic similar to my Scythe I feel, was crafted with Holy Blessings during its creation and imbued with magical crystals containing the Light. A fearsome tool made to take people like me and mine off the board and it did its job well. As the goblins like to put it, he 'knocked me into next week'. Before I could hit another surface a portal opened behind him, taking me off to some remote part of the Arathi Highlands.

A trap within a trap and we'd all walked right into it. Another failure on my part, starting to mount and it grows so very tiring, especially when the Sanctum looks to me for answers. Still, this was unexpected as my Father waited for me on the other side and it became all the clearer. He had orchestrated all of this. Ammaelin's rise to and of power, the ambush of my people, and inevitably the bait I took that put me to stand before him. The old man was near as I remembered him. Well, save for the parlor of his grey, undead skin, and the crimson color of his eyes. He was no longer living, that much I could divine, and before words could be set, he was upon me. He moved with a speed I could scarcely reconcile. I'd never seen Undead move in such a fashion, especially magical ones. It was as if he'd taken on teachings of Pandaren Monks and Demon Hunters to mix with his own magical acquirements over the years. If this did not worry me, I would be eager with curiosity, ravenous with it like Varethuun, if I did not know what it could spell for me. It took everything I had to keep him back and worse still, as I felt Nezzok's connection across the Sanguine fade as he was captured, I faltered, distracted. Krownos made his move, set upon me in a grapple, declaring how easy it'd be for him to take Ammaelin once I had been consumed. I could see it in his eyes. We were all but tools to fuel his fire, a hunger I could relate to well, but... fate has a way of taking things into control when one least expects it. By all accounts, I should not be here to write this, I should have been absorbed but Krownos' arm burst into fel flame and moved of its own accord. It turned on him, grabbed at his face and neck, throttling him to the point it burned his undead flesh. His body revolted and it's in this instant I could feel Sanelastus within him. His spirit, soul, whatever remained, was fighting to keep him from obtaining me, condemning me to the same fate he had suffered.

Sanelastus saved me, but to what end, I do not know for the conflict was enough that Krownos howled with an unkempt rage and retreated, feuding with himself. Sanelastus bought me time...

I will not, cannot, let it go to waste. Ammaelin's boost in power must be discovered and finding out what happened with my Father and why may prove critical to my and my Sanctum's very survival. Nezzok has been captured, held prisoner at my brother's estate, kept under lock, key, and holy power to contain his undead form. Ryo gathers a scouting party to discern more information and soon Zalilirah and I will put to task a two-pronged effort to at least try to handicap my Brother, to bring him to a more manageable level. I feel that if we can navigate properly and remove him from the board before my father decides to simply absorb him instead of using him like a pawn, we may find a way to actually take Krownos down as well.

( The above events are an IC recollection, a journal entry by Dinthoqaf, to help relate a portion of what occurred when he'd been removed from the event to keep him from aiding his own people. )

[sailorgokaidecade]

All Tertiary Kamen Riders (2001-2024):

Ryo Ashihara (Kamen Rider Gills)

Shuichi Kitaoka (Kamen Rider Zolda)

Shuji Mihara (Kamen Rider Delta)

Joker Undead/"Hajime Aikawa" (Kamen Rider Chalice)

Tomizo Todayama (Kamen Rider Todoroki)

Masato Mishima (Kamen Rider TheBee IV)

Kotaro Nogami (Kamen Rider New Den-O)

Taiga Nobori (Kamen Rider Saga/Dark Kiva III)

Yusuke Onodera (Kamen Rider Kuuga - Alternate Reality)

Sokichi Narumi (Kamen Rider Skull)

Michal Minato (Kamen Rider Aqua)

Seed of Life from the Universe/"Nadeshiko Misaki" (Kamen Rider Nadeshiko)

Mayu Inamori (Kamen Rider Mage)

Mitsuzane Kureshima (Kamen Rider Ryugen)

Roidmude 000/"Chase" (Kamen Rider Proto-Drive/Chaser)

Alain (Kamen Rider Necrom)

Taiga Hanaya (Kamen Rider Snipe)

Kazumi Sawatari (Kamen Rider Grease)

Woz (Kamen Rider Woz)

Yua Yaiba (Kamen Rider Valkyrie)

Kento Fukamiya (Kamen Rider Espada)

Sakura Igarashi (Kamen Rider Jeanne)

Neon Kurama (Kamen Rider Na-go)

Spanner Kurogane (Kamen Rider Valvarad)

Lakia Amargo/"Granute Lage-9" (Kamen Rider Vram)

[mask131]

Vampires before they were cool... (1)

Before talking about Dracula, before talking about the first vampire in literature, why don’t we talk about the first vampires in beliefs and folklore?

Everybody is convinced that they know what vampires are. And yet they don’t. People were so influenced by the literary and then cinematic depiction of the vampire as the undead seducer, as the demonic aristocrat, as the tortured soul who just looks like a human with some pointy teeth… They forgot what vampires started out as, and the “original” vampire is. Which is actually something quite close to the modern idea of what a “zombie” is today – with some elements of evil ghosts and murderous wraiths thrown in. A ghostly zombie, how cool is that?

Let’s start at the beginning of it all (and maybe we’ll even go before the beginnings): when did the figure of the vampire per-se appeared in Europe? (I won’t talk here of all the proto-vampires and all the beliefs that led to the apparition of the vampire, I’ll keep this for another time).

[Also just to specify, again, because people are going to raise their fingers: this is by no mean an extensive, well-researched, definitive scholarly work. I'm just scribbling notes here and there in case people didn't heard about this stuff or wish to discover new roads to explore]

As I am using the chronology established by Jean Marigny, I will begin with the 11th century. It was in this era that the first rumors about dead people whose corpse was repeatedly found outside of their grave, and untouched by rot, started spreading around. The bishop of Cahors shared a story in 1031, during the second Council of Limoges (it was later relayed by Collin de Plancy in his “Dictionnaire infernal”): according to him, a knight of his congregation who had been excommunicated before dying had his body found several times outside of his grave, as if he kept coming out of it. The blood-sucking or “life-stealing” element would come later: a mix of old “paganism” from the Norse and Celtic beliefs, and of the superstitions of medieval Christianity, the image of the vampire as we would know it today first truly appeared in the British Isles, in Iceland, and in other Scandinavian countries. As early as the 12th century, we find in England stories of dead people (usually excommunicated) who each night leave their grave to either torment their loved ones, or cause a series of unusual deaths. When upon investigation the graves of the deceased were opened, their corpse was found unrotten and covered in blood – to end the “curse”, people usually burned the corpse after piercing it with a sword. Tales of the sort can be found in works such as “De Nugis Curialium” (1193) by Walter Map, or the “Historia Regis Anglicarum” (1196) by William of Newburgh. Since there was no real terminology or word for these creatures, the chronicles usually described them as “cadaver sanguisugus”.

These early cases of vampirism were a recurring thing throughout the following centuries – similar stories can be found all the way up to the Renaissance, though they were usually so episodic and isolated that they did not leave a lasting impact on cultures or beliefs.

It would only be by the 14th century that vampirism would start to exist as an “epidemic” – with manifestations of mass phenomenon in areas such as Bohemia, Silesia or Eastern Prussia. This generalization of vampires, and the sudden “spectacular” nature of their manifestations, is easy to explain: it all coincides with the great plagues epidemics. It was well known that, out of fear of contagion, the dead were very quickly and hastily buried – sometimes before they were even dead… Just being sick and disease enough could lead you to get six feet underground. Of course, as a result, if the graves or vaults were opened a few days later, one would find the body untouched by rot but covered in blood – as the poor people probably tried to claw their way out, or actually died after their burial. These grizzly tragedies, in a 16th century filled with superstitions and tormented by many diseases, resulted in a true boom of the vampire belief. An interesting case showing how even the upper-class of society could not escape is the one of the Prussian baron Steino of Retten. After dying of the plague, he was buried in grandiose funerals with all the honors due to his rank… But the following days, many people claimed to have seen the baron outside of his graves, walking around as if he was still alive. This led to the baron’s grave being opened, and his body pierced many times with a sword to “allow his soul to go to rest”. Numerous similar cases were reported in Bohemia around the same time.

In Western Europe, meanwhile, vampire cases stayed sporadic and episodic… Until 1484. On 1484, the pope Innocent VIII approved the publication of the “Malleus Maleficarum” – while most known as the “witch-hunter manual” which turned the medieval persecutions into an absolute horror, this book by the Dominicans Jakob Sprenger and Heinrich Kramer (who notably got into a lot of troubles and fighting with authorities of the Church precisely due to some of the beliefs in this book contradicting the Church teachings) was also an investigation and study of cases of succubus, incubus and undead. When it was said and shared around Europe that the pope had accepted and “sponsored”, so to speak, this book, it was a HUGE wave of shock with lasting effects: it meant the Church was officially recognizing the existence of the undead…

Then, the Reformation would too strengthen the legend of the vampire, during the second half of the 16th century. You see, there was a belief going around (and born during the times of the great plague) that the dead in their graves would devour themselves, as things looking like bite marks or self-devouring appeared on corpses dug out after their burial (again, very likely result of hasty funerals). This led to an entire belief that the dead, when in their grave, would “chew” and “masticate” (many people claimed hearing the jaws of the dead work when passing by their grave), and that they would eat dirt in their grave, their own shrouds, or their own flesh. (The theory of the “masticating corpses” was notoriously illustrated by a 1728 work by Michael Ranft, “De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis Liber”). Soon the belief came that, when the “masticating death” started eating things like shroud or flesh, they would gain evil powers, dark abilities to cause the death of the living being. This led to the tradition of placing things inside the mouth of corpses to prevent them from “chewing”. Luther himself knew and had talked about these cases – he had been told of them by the pastor Georg Röhrer. From 1552 onward, in Prussia and Silesia, it became common to put a stone or a pfenning in the mouth of the dead – and since, again, the term “vampire” did not exist per se, they were called by the German name “Nachzehrer”, a term which was equated with both “predator” and “parasite”.

However, the Protestants taking over these early cases of vampirism is fascinating because it led to a complete change of doctrine as to the origins of vampirism. You see, up until now the “cadaver sanguisugus” were treated by a Catholic angle, and under the Neo-Platonician idea of a “life after death”. The body was deemed a physical vessel, a container of flesh who after death corrupted and dislocated, while the soul kept on living in some afterlife or otherworld awaiting the End of Times. Through redemption, the soul of the sinners could be saved – and these souls were also protected if they received the Christian sacraments before their death. However, those that did not receive the sacraments, or those that simply did not receive the final sacrament (the extreme unction, the sacrament of death), or even those that were not buried in a holy ground (excommunication, death by suicide) were doomed to never know salvation. From this belief came the idea of the “undead”, of the “unresting souls”, of “those that return in the flesh” – dead people who did not belong in this world anymore, and yet had no place in the afterlife. These cases of vampirism were considered as souls who came back from the Purgatory or the afterlife, and inhabited again their earthly bodies. But Protestants? Protestants had a whole other way to see things (for example, for them Purgatory did not exist) and this whole thing of “the souls coming back in their bodies” as nonsense. Instead, they explained these Nachzehrer by… witchcraft.

This was mostly the work of the Reformation theologians of Switzerland, Calvin or Louis Lavater. In 1581, Lavater wrote a treaty about “wraiths and spirits of the night”, and in there he claims that the undead are not the dead coming back to life, but rather demons that take the shape of those that once were living. This idea actually came from 1597, and from the king of Scotland James VI (later James the First of England) – a studier of occult sciences, he had written about these “face-stealing demons” in his work “Demonology” (another work which also greatly strengthened and hardened the witch-hunts and witchcraft-justified persecutions). This Reformation concept led to the cementation of the vampire in European culture as “the servant of the devil”.

[vyvilha]

what is a navje? I cant find it on Google

hello friend. navje (нави) or more common nav' (навь) in ukrainian folklore is a general word that describes undead spirits. it comes from the proto-slavic *navь meaning "dead". archaic ukrainian words for coffin (nava) and dead (navk), as well as the name of a very popular ukrainian mythological character navka are derived from it as well

[dailycharacteroption]

Planar Tour Guide: Positive Energy Plane part 3

(art by The-SixthLeafClover on DeviantArt)

Denizens

We’ve beat around the bush for a bit, but now it’s time to talk directly about the creatures that one is likely to encounter once one gets over the hurtle of actually surviving the plane itself.

The most prominent and well-known beings in Creation’s Forge are the jyoti, a species of bird-like winged humanoids that form spontaneously from the plane’s energies. While sometimes erroneously called phoenix-kin (though the fact that actual phoenixes do have a strong connection to positive energy on account of their self-ressurection and healing is interesting), the jyoti are their own people, and act as the guardians of the plane.

However, due to their charge and the incursions of gods in eons past, the jyoti are extremely xenophobic, turning away and outright attacking travelers from other planes, with only a rare diplomatic few being able to make peaceful contact with them, though never truly earning their trust. This is because they firmly believe that they were entrusted with the guardianship of the plane, and view all deific interference, from the outright invasions to even support sent to aid them as an incursion in disguise and both as insults to their role.

Indeed, the only beings the jyoti seem to trust are the manasaputra and turuls, the former for their truly benevolent wisdom, and the latter for them generally having the plane’s interests at heart.

It’s also worth noting that the jyoti view their negative energy counterparts, the sceanduinar, with pity, and see a swift destruction as the only mercy they can afford them, tying into the linked origin of both planes.

While also avians, the turul are very different physically to the jyoti, though they may have a shared genesis. These colossal bird-folk intellectual and talkative, though quick to dismiss guests when they grow bored, and quick to anger when the unwanted persist. Turuls do not share the xenophobia of their smaller cousins, and are quite often interested in mortals, taking on destined individuals or entire civilizations under their patronage. However, such relationships are often more like a pet and caregiver than harboring mutual respect, and so these quasi-divine birdmen do not often intervene unless their charge is truly in trouble.

However, while the other two are well-known, it is the gliminals (introduced in Second Edition), which best represent The Furnace as an alien realm of overwhelming creation that burns up that which it creates. Gliminals resemble humanoid masses of light, and their mindset is very alien to mortals. To a gliminal, the inevitability of death is a tragic curse on mortal kind which they cannot abide, and they seek to free mortal souls from that curse by stripping them of the fleshy shells that drag them down into death and away from Creation’s Forge towards one of the outer planes… by which I mean they reenact the overwhelming effects of their home plane in miniature and overwhelm mortals until they explode with raw life energy.

Additionally, the plane, much like many others, is home to gleaming reflections of many mortal creatures. These “radiant” creatures may be echoes of the possible life forms that proto-souls can inhabit once they leave for the mortal realm (or more likely, beings that have been obliterated by the plane, but managed to stay by some fluke and gain a body of radiant light), but they do behave much in the same way as their mortal counterparts, albeit even more vibrant and alive-seeming, and with a great antipathy for the undead and negative energy.

As the source of mortal souls, the Positive Energy Plane is not a place one would expect to find souls that passed on, let alone outsiders that evolved out of them, but such is the case with the manasaputra, divine beings of enlightenment and universal oneness who have their origins in Hindu mythology. (And also unfortunately in theosophy as well, but we’ll try to distance ourselves from that as much as possible). No matter what form they take, these cosmic beings are one of the few entities not born directly of the plane that the jyoti respect, and while the birdfolk do not seek them out, their presence can often temper their xenophobia, giving mortals a chance to make their case.

Not so with the davana titans, some of the oldest titans in existence. While such titans can often be found on many planes, not just here, a good number of them do exist in The Furnace, either as leftovers of some failed incursion or sent to guard the plane in the name of the gods. However, they are universally hated by the jyoti, and have to live in isolation there in order to maintain their assigned posts and wards. Unlike other davana, most are still working on their original assignments, so are unlikely to go berserk in an effort to re-establish cosmic order the way their imprisioned kin are, though I imagine most keep a wide berth of Titan’s Prison for obvious reasons.

It’s worth noting that though they are not likely trusted by the jyoti, monadic deva angels also sometimes frequent the plane on their patrols, barely tolerated by the jyoti no doubt.

Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention ravids. The one-limbed serpentine creatures called Ravids are natives to the positive energy plane that are most notable with being able invest positive energy into objects to bring them to life… And the reason you may not have heard of them is that they’re actually a D&D monster, one that was legal for Paizo to transfer into Pathfinder under the OGL… but when it came time to actually make a system and not just a setting, they never figured out how to make them interesting, and kinda dropped them from the setting, being one of the very few non-OGL-exempted monsters from Monster Manual 1 that never appeared in Pathfinder outside some pre-Pathfinder system lore books. For my part, while they may be dubiously canon, I still like to think ravids are out there somewhere, waiting for an aspiring writer to give them some good lore.

Like I mentioned before, one would not expect there to be petitioners (or their new name in 2E revisted: shades) to exist on a plane where souls primarily leave, not enter, especially since no true deity makes their home on the plane. However, those that follow the philosophies of the manasaputra obecome such shades, called The Enlightened, where they dwell in peaceful reflection until they ascend to become one of the lesser forms of manasaputra along their path to greater enlightenment.

Additionally, the plane is also home to pre-incarnated souls, akin to nebulae condensing into a new star in miniature. While non-sapient, these vague entities have a curious knack for mimicry, but truly understand nothing, having not yet lived to have consciousness or comprehension. While normally impervious to harm, overwhelming negative energy or magic could snuff them out, and so most denizens of the plane, particularly jyoti, strive to protect them from harm.

As we can see, there is a surprisingly deep ecology to a plane that otherwise scours life from it’s reality, full of possible allies but also volatile enemies. But without a reason, visiting these natives would be a moot point. As such, tomorrow we’ll be looking at adventures on the Positive Energy Plane!

[krugkorien]

Happy New Year everyone! Today I want to show you my main setting: the Divine World. It’s a dark fantasy world that combines both epic (gods, monsters, magic, saving the world) and mundane (death, decay, bigotry, oppression) aspects of the genre. Worldbuilding and lore is a very important part of DW, to a point where if I could write everything I want about DW it would be one of the biggest books in the history of mankind. But this is an introductory post, so I’ll try to keep it brief!

1. While I’m not going to get into any unpleasant details here let’s still get some trigger warnings out of the way first. As I said DW is dark fantasy, and it’s so dark that Marena came up with the name Macabre Fantasy in order to emphasize how dark DW is and how the aforementioned themes of death and decay play a huge role in it, as well as many other sensitive topics. Aside from what has been already mentioned there's also a lot of cruelty & violence (both interpersonal & socio-political) and also topical problems: sexism, nazism, colonialism, etc. All of this, of course, is not for the sake of being edgy, but to make a lot of important points.

2. The inhabitants of the Divine World are appropriately called Divine Humans [1], aka Homo Mirandum. While they look a lot like regular humans, there are a lot of differences between us and them! They have horns, claws, different hair textures and skin tones, three spinal cords instead of one and are also bigger than us: it depends on a lot of factors and the shortest men are actually not that big, being only 166 cm tall, but the tallest women can go up to 350 cm! And yes, you’ve read it correctly, women are taller! Divine sexual dimorphism is somewhat flipped compared to ours and Divine women are tall, muscular and hairy, while men are short, thin and mostly hairless. Meanwhile their voices are pretty similar and androgynous, and also have a metal (as in material not music) vibe to them.

Physically Divine humans are, for the lack of better word, monumental: they are strong, capable of surviving wounds that would kill a regular human ten times over, have a great memory, but are also stiff and slow, both physically & mentally, for physiological reasons as well simply because they can afford to be — their lifespans can be measured in multiple Earth centuries. However Divine humans rarely enjoy their longevity to its full extent. Outside dangers aside, their illnesses and disabilities are just as monumental as they are. For example, Divine albinism means fully transparent flesh which in turn means complete blindness and high vulnerability towards radiation (levels of which are very high on Mirabilis).

Divine souls are just as physical as anything else. They are also Aetheric in nature, and are another example of Divine sexual dimorphism: white souls belong to men and black to women (with rare exceptions). This plays a huge role in Divine society and became one of the reasons why most Divine societies are patriarchal: men, despite being physically weak, can literally mind-control women when needed. It doesn’t help that too much contact with an aether opposite to your soul can lead to death.

While Divine humans are technically the only race of Mirabilis, thanks to magic they can turn into many various creatures: Demons, Angels, Chorts (lesser Demons, roughly speaking), Bieses (lesser Chorts), Beatas, Vampires, Turnskins (Divine equivalent of werewolves), Beasts, Chimeras, Nocturnals, Urials, Cadavredaxes and so on, many of them having sub-types (for example vampires being living and undead).

4. Technology & society-wise Divine civilization can be compared to 19th century Earth: imperialism and nationalism are at their peak, proto-industrial society, recently invented trains & electricity. However Divine civilization also possesses traits more associated with our Middle Ages: religion being the most important social institute, no concept of humanism, plate armor & melee weapons still being main tools of war.

5. Like Divine humans themselves Mirabilis looks somewhat Earth-ish but is actually very different. For starters, when I say that DW is a dark and oppressive world I mean it a bit literally! Mirabilis has high atmospheric pressure (~8 higher than Earth), it’s a much colder and wetter planet, and most noticeably — it has no sun. Despite this, Mirabilis still has light and heat, even if not as much as we do, all that thanks to the White Aether (a very important magic substance) that fills the space around the planet. A Sun’s fire isn’t the only kind Mirabilis lacks — due to the low oxygen level of 15% fire simply cannot exist in normal conditions on Mirabilis.

If the word “normal” can even be used towards Mirabilis — all of the planet’s flora are technically mushrooms and much closer to the meat-side of things, so stuff like bleeding human-eating trees isn’t exactly shocking to Divine humans. Animals are technically the same as on Earth but with a huge caveat — their appearance is based on the medieval depictions of them which means animals like hyperagressive fishes with limbs, talking horses with human teeth, owls with human faces, giant non-arthropodic insects and so on.

While Mirabilis is bigger than Earth, it has only one continent that is sliced in half by the so-called Black Wall —an  impassable wall of Black Aether. The stories I write take place on the western half of the continent, and its inhabitants can’t just cross the ocean to explore the East because of the atrament — a deadly substance that fills the sea and is so dangerous only two western races out of twelve have any level of resistance to it.

The explorers of Mirabilis would be very upset about this if not for the Remnants, mysterious ruins that are both more ancient than anything they have ever seen yet more advanced than anything they could dream of. Exploring Remnants is an incredibly dangerous, often illegal job, but what’s that compared to a chance to learn more about the world? More materialistic folks are attracted by the artifacts that are capable of granting incredible miracles and, of course, even more incredible horrors.

And I think that’s pretty much it for the introductory post! From now on I’m going to repost the stuff I’ve previously posted on my Twitter before but now with all kinds of lore tidbits. There’s other projects we’ll talk about, especially Neon-23, Marena’s cyberpunk setting (that has a crossover with DW we made for fun!) but that’s it for now. Thank you for reading all this! And thanks to @goldporces & ippoteq @ Twitter for beta-reading this text!

[1] — In Russian I call them Дивнолюди, based on an archaic Russian word for “miracle” — диво. “Divine” is a very lucky translation because it sounds similar to the original word and also points at the, well, divine nature of the Divine Humans.