#A Verdant Introduction

[tomtoth]

Whispers of the Green Garden

Prologue

In the heart of a bustling city, hidden behind a forgotten veil of towering pines and perpetual mist, lay the Evergreen Garden. It was a sanctuary unmarked on maps and untouched by time, a place where the sky perpetually whispered secrets to those who dared to listen under its somber, gray canvas.

Evelyn Hart first stumbled upon this secluded paradise during one of her aimless wanderings, her heart heavy with dreams unspoken and thoughts unshared. The garden embraced her like an old friend, its sharp, vibrant greenery piercing through the monotony of her grey world. It was here, amidst the whispering pines, that she first heard the murmurs of the wind—a language not spoken through words but felt through the soul.

Julian Moss, a man of science and solitude, found the garden by chance—or perhaps by fate—while seeking refuge from the cacophony of his logical existence. The garden’s enigmatic tranquility spoke to his hidden, unacknowledged yearnings, revealing layers of his mind he had diligently ignored.

As the garden wove its silent spell, more like them were drawn to its confines, each discovering the pathway to the Evergreen Garden as if guided by an unseen force. Together, they formed the Verdant Circle, a fellowship bound not by spoken oaths but by a shared awakening. In this circle, their thoughts and emotions intertwined, weaving a tapestry of collective consciousness that grew beyond the sum of its parts.

As the world outside continued its relentless pace, the Verdant Circle found solace and strength in their secret haven. But as they would soon learn, the garden was more than a refuge from the storm—it was the eye of a storm yet to come, a catalyst that would challenge their perceptions of reality and the very essence of their connection.

Thus begins our tale: a story of ordinary people bound by extraordinary encounters, where the whispers of the garden promise to reveal the deepest mysteries of the heart and mind.

[uwmspeccoll]

Typography Tuesday

GIOVANNI BAPTISTA VERINI

Sometime between 1526 and 1527, Italian calligrapher and writer Giovanni Baptista Verini published his noted 4-part handwriting manual, Liber Elementorum Litterarum, probably at Toscolano on Lake Garda. This very rare book stands between the great manuals of Albrecht Dürer's Four Books on Measurement (1525) and Geoffroy Tory's Champfleury (1529).

The images shown here are from a 1947 printing of the third part of Varini's manual, published as Luminario or the Third Chapter of the Liber Elementorum Litterarum on the Construction of Roman Capitals, with an English translation by English librarian and typography expert Alfred F. Johnson (1884-1972) and an introduction by the master type historian and designer Stanley Morison (1889-1967). It was published in Cambridge by Harvard College Library and in Chicago by the Newberry Library, and printed in London by the Office of The Times in an edition of 510 copies.

Next to nothing is known about Verini himself. In his introduction, Morison writes:

The meagre details concerning the career of Giovanni Baptista Verini provide material for few positive statements. He was young, he was a citizen of Florence, . . . and a bookseller there. . . . If Verini's "Luminario" . . . was not reprinted, if was a disappointment he was prepared for, as witness the text he chose to place on the title page of part three, here reprinted after four hundred and score years: OMNIA LABUNTUR SED VIRTUS SOLA VIRESCIT [Everything slips away, but only virtue remains verdant].

View a post on Albrecht Dürer's manual.

View a post on Geoffroy Tory's Champfleury.

View more Typography Tuesday posts.

[cavernsofdarkness]

ƬӇЄ ƧЄЄԼƖЄ

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 & 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳

"The Seelie? Many a mortal has thought them to be the very best of the Folk—the preservers of beauty, wonder and "good", but at what cost?"

*ˡᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ*

The Spring Court

The Fields of Spring, with rolling hills and crystal lakes, are a symbol of rebirth, youth and new beginnings.

The Court of Wonder is known for its romanticism, idealism and veneration of joy, whimsy and beauty. Indulging in decadence and hedonistic pursuits, many of Spring's inhabitants are free and flittering, but perceptive, keen on drama and in possession of an uncanny finesse.

Elements of the Spring Court: Earth & Water

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔯 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔱

Summer is the embodiment of life and strength. Dense, verdant forests, lush fields and glittering dunes, the lands of Summer are endowed with a beauty that is oppressive in its dominion.

Driven, stalwart and relentless, those of the Lumos Court are known for their temperamental nature.

Elements of the Summer Court: Fire & Air

**I finally got around to the Seelie introduction, almost two years after the Unseelie.

[cluelessteam]

Eternal Harmony: {~Fateful Encounter~}

Summary: Y/N's ordinary life takes a supernatural twist when they encounter the mysterious Cullen family in Forks. Immersed in a world of eternal love and trials, Y/N becomes a vital part of the Cullens' immortal story. Guided by Alice's visions and Jasper's wisdom, they face cosmic threats and navigate the complexities of supernatural existence. The story unfolds through eclipses of emotions and trials, culminating in a dawn where enduring bonds and love echo through the ages—a forever-bound journey in the supernatural realm.

Characters: The Cullen family

Pairing: Jasper x Reader x Alice

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 563

Chapter 1 --- Chapter 2

The rain-soaked streets of Forks glistened under the diffused light filtering through the low-hanging clouds. Y/N, a newcomer to this seemingly ordinary town, meandered through the wet thoroughfares with an air of contemplation. The scent of damp earth mingled with the piney aroma of the surrounding forest, creating an atmosphere that felt both serene and mysterious.

Forks High School loomed ahead, its brick facade appearing almost foreboding against the backdrop of the verdant landscape. Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that this journey wasn't just a relocation but a shift in the very fabric of their existence.

As they entered the bustling corridors, the air hummed with subdued conversations and the shuffling of students. Y/N felt the weight of curious gazes, the subtle scrutiny of a town where everyone seemed to know everyone else. Yet, amidst the familiar faces, one group stood out—the enigmatic Cullen siblings.

Alice, with her ethereal grace, moved through the crowd like a dancer in a world of mere mortals. Her short, spiky hair seemed to defy the norm, and her golden eyes held an otherworldly sparkle. Beside her, Jasper exuded a quiet strength that hinted at experiences beyond the scope of high school dramas.

The Cullens' eyes met Y/N's, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to pause. Alice, her voice carrying a musical cadence, was the first to break the silence. "You must be Y/N! I saw you coming." Her words, though cryptic, were delivered with a warmth that melted away any apprehension.

Jasper, standing beside Alice, offered a polite nod. "Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," he greeted with a subtle Southern drawl, the formality of the words belying the enigmatic aura that surrounded him.

The introduction seamlessly transitioned into an invitation to join them for lunch. Y/N found themselves at the epicenter of the diverse Cullen clan—Edward, Bella, Emmett, and Rosalie—each with a presence that hinted at a shared history beyond the confines of high school hierarchies.

The cafeteria buzzed with the energy of animated conversations and laughter. Alice, with her infectious enthusiasm, occasionally paused the discussion to share glimpses of the future she saw in her mind's eye. "Look at this, everyone! Y/N's going to make our lives even more interesting," she proclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Edward, the mind-reader, chuckled. "It seems Alice has foreseen a lively addition to our family dynamic."

Jasper, the empathetic one, added, "There's something different about your emotions. It's refreshing," his words resonating with a depth that hinted at untold stories.

The day unfolded with shared classes, stolen glances, and the palpable sense of an unspoken connection. Bella, observant as always, leaned in. "Looks like you've caught the attention of the fascinating duo."

As the final bell rang, Alice took Y/N under her wing. "Come with us. There's something we'd like to show you."

Jasper, with a rare smile, added, "It's a part of our world, Y/N. A world that you're now a part of."

As they led Y/N toward the woods surrounding Forks, a sense of both trepidation and excitement filled the air. The trees stood sentinel, their ancient branches whispering secrets to those who dared to listen. Little did Y/N know that this fateful encounter was the prelude to a journey where love, immortality, and destiny intertwined in ways they could never have imagined.

[racefortheironthrone]

Warhammer Gaslamp: Peoples of the Old World

(For Introduction, see here; for Imperial Society, see here; for Geopolitics, see here.)

While the Old World of 2725 IC is dominated by the nations of Men, the non-human species of the world are by no means vanished - although all have seen enormous amounts of change over the last two hundred years.

Although they still maintain their traditional alliance with the Empire of Man, the Dawi of the Old World suffered badly from their pyrrhic victories in the Skaven and Greenskin Wars, to the point where they have begun a slow, inexorable demographic decline - not helped by increasing assimilation into the Empire. Increasingly, the Dawi have begun to coalesce around the master plan of the Great Reckoning, an effort to avenge every single Grudge in the Dammaz Kron in one fell swoop through the creation of an army of 100,000 Slayers. When the last of the Grudges has been satisfied, the sages of Dwarfkind believe that the Ancestor Gods will return and restore their people to their former glory.

Proving that it is truly an ill wind that blows no one any good, the shift in the Aethyr mentioned earlier had a profound influence on the Asur. With the increase in the concentration of Aethyric energy around, Asur born since 2594 have universally developed psykic abilities seemingly independent of their access to the Winds of Khaos, such that the younger generation now primarily speak mind-to-mind, can move themselves and objects with a thought, and much more that was once the exclusive ability of magi. Among many of the Asur, this is seen as a sign of the gods' continual favor, but these new abilities will need to be pressed into service sooner rather than later, as the blessed isle of Ulthuan is gradually sliding beneath the waves....

While their territories in Laurelorn have shrunken dramatically, the territories of the Asrai in Athel Loren remain quite strong in Bretonnia thanks in no small part to their political influence on Forest Law in L'Ancien Régime. As part of an increased level of caution (or paranoia), the Spellsingers embarked in a campaign of educating the entirety of their population in how to magically transport themselves between the remaining forests of the Old World and the spiritual dimension of Underhill, where magic remains strong and the verdant world untouched by hands of men, and to use the Glamour to move undetected in the human world.

[From the 9th Edition Imperial Encyclopedia]: Halflings (noun). A malevolent subspecies of mutant, destroyed in the Great Gene-Purge of 2614.

Life for the Vampire Counts has become increasingly more dangerous and complex. Driven from their seat of power in a vicious war that left much of Sylvania a faintly glowing wasteland of bomb craters and barbed wire, the survivors live on the run from the Imperial Plasmic Survey and the Schwarzmänner, although some vampires and thralls alike can manage to stay one step ahead via falsified blood samples and living in masquerade in the teeming throngs of urban society. Many of the surviving vampires have developed wealthy clients from among the nobility and the haut bourgeoisie, who are willing to risk the attentions of the state in exchange for infusions that extend their lifespans by decades. At the same time, the Vampire Counts are learning how to play politics by Imperial rules...

The Old World has changed, but the Greenskins have not. Although banished beyond the World's Edge Mountains, they still practice their traditional ways of WAAAGH! and generally making a mess of things. However, they have adapted to the age of gunpowder by trading with the Ogres of the East for the 'splody stuff, from the Orkish love of really big shootas and the Goblin fascination with bombs. The Greenskins might wear top hats and call their warleaders Nobz now, but they are still the mad, anarchic bastards who refuse to die.

Despite their defeat in the wars with the dwarfs and the mysterious explosion that engulfed Skavenblight in 2573 IC, the Underempire of the Skaven has adapted to their new circumstances in new and strange ways. While increasing urbanization has allowed the Skaven to spread through the sewers and subway systems of the Empire, they face new competition from the "Untervolk" and the increasingly impressive efforts of the human Technomancers. So instead the Skaven have allied with the Slaaneshi to sell warpstone dust drugs to the stupid stupid man-things, using the financial proceeds and the insidious long-term effects of warpstone dust to weaken humanity from within.

[unabashedly-so]

🌊 sailor!Elliott AU: Introduction ⛈️

Sailor!Elliott AU, inspired by Letters from the Atlantic by The Arcadian Wild...

content warning: storm exposure, near drowning, hospitalization, near death experience, depressive themes, emotional numbing

(also don't let the initial formatting fool you--this is not fanfiction. This is just a HC in a narrative format instead of the usual bullet points because I have a lot of Thoughts(TM).)

I’m being followed by the rain clouds My clothes are soaking up the pain that keeps pouring down Too much more and I may drown I’m being followed by the night sky It stole away my sight, it seems I have lost my way I need someone to be my guide...

-- "Rain Clouds" by The Arcadian Wild

You board the train for Stardew Valley, weary but eager to begin a new life on the old farm in Pelican town. The locals are friendly and lively, and when you make your way to the beach, you find an empty cabin in the sand...

When you meet Willy and ask about it, he shrugs. "It's where I stayed while Robin and I was buildin' my shop home on the pier. Now I s'pose it could be used as a shed or something..."

Your first season on the farm passes with lots of tears, sweat, and some blood, if you're the mining type. Summer only increases the sweat.

The locals forewarn of the Clockwork Storms--storm cells that always generate on Summer 13 and 26, every year, unfailingly. They warn they're usually the worst of the year and recommend you prepare accordingly and just bunker down with the rest of them.

Sure enough, Summer 13's Clockwork Storm hits with flashes bright as the sun and bangs that make the ground tremble.

Emerging on the 14th, you count yourself lucky that you only lost a few crops to the storm. On your way to Pierre's to recoup your losses, you hear some commotion from the beach. Curiosity and concern draw you to the source, and you hurry to the pier to find Willy hauling something out of his boat. A big something.

The closer you get, the thing starts to take the form of--

"He's still breathin', I think!" Willy grunts. "Come quick, help me get'm up on the deck."

You and Willy manage to get the man off the boat and onto the deck of the pier. The man's long, reddish-auburn hair is tied back in a frayed braid, and he's bare chested, his shoulders and back hot and beginning to blister from exposure. His olive green pants, once rolled at the bottom, are now ragged and torn. Willy was right--he is breathing, but it's shallow. He's gaunt and scalding hot to the touch, but alive, despite it all.

As you're assessing him, his eyes flutter open. He's dazed. It seems to take a great effort to even move his eyes. You're unsure if he's even conscious. Then his eyes land on you. There's a brief but vibrant spark, and you can't help but notice his eyes are the same verdant green that reminds you of your new home on the farm. His lips part as if to speak, but nothing comes out. His eyes flutter shut

You have the good sense to know that if this man's going to survive, he needs to be brought to the clinic--there's nothing to be done for him here. You and Willy manage to get him to the clinic where he's promptly tended to and given emergency, likely life-saving measures. After a tenuous hour or so, Harvey emerges and said that he believes the man has stabilized, but he's horribly sun poisoned and dehydrated, and that's just what he can tell on the surface. Harvey says he's working with limited resources, but he'll do everything he can to give the guy the best chance at pulling through. He encourages you to come by tomorrow and check in.

The clinic is closed for the rest of the day.

- - -

If you choose to return on the 15th, Harvey approves, and gives you the update that the man remained stable overnight, but he's still very weak and will likely wake up in a lot of pain. But he will likely wake up, Harvey reiterates with relief

- - -

If you choose to return on the 16th, Harvey approves, and says that the man seems to be recovering. He says there's brief flashes of consciousness and he seems to attend to questions, but he's still too dazed to speak. Harvey encourages you to come by again tomorrow. He anticipates he'll be well enough to interact with for brief periods of time.

- - -

If you return on the 17th, you'll walk in on Harvey assessing the man, who is now fully conscious. As predicted, he appears to be in a fair amount of pain, but Harvey is confident that it's just residual soreness and sunburns. Harvey introduces you as one of the people who helped save him.

The man takes you in with a weary gaze, one that soon softens and warms. He sounds breathless as he says, "Thank you."

The man quickly clears his throat, trying again. His voice is still weak and raspy, as he says, "Thank you... I owe you... my life." He swallows, a challenging thing. "Elliott," he manages, shakily holding his hand out.

You give your name, and reach to shake his hand. Instead, he gently draws your hand to him and kisses your knuckles with his sun-chapped lips.

Elliott winces as he lays back, visibly drained. Harvey encourages Elliott to go back to resting, and for you to return to your day. As you're leaving, you hear a weak, hoarse voice trying desperately to be heard.

"Come back..."

You turn around. Elliott has his eyes closed and is lying still. He takes another breath, then looks to you through a half-lidded gaze.

"...tomorrow?" Elliott finishes.

You nod.

- - -

If you come back on the 18th, Harvey and Elliott approve. Elliott is sitting up on the bed reading when you come in.

He looks up and greets you by name. It looks like he's been given the chance to wash up--he looks brighter, and his auburn reddish hair shines, tied back loosely at his shoulders and pulled to the side with less bandages on it. He's shirtless, skin almost as red as his hair, and you can see all the bandages across his shoulders and back.

What happened to your shirt?

(no change in approval) Elliott blinks. "It was too painful to keep taking it off and putting it back on again for bandage changes. I hope it doesn't bother you."

How are you feeling today?

(approval gain) Elliott gives a polite smile. "Moving hurts, breathing hurts… but I can do both, and for that I am thankful."

What are you reading?

(approval gain) Elliott lights up, flashing the cover. "Kind doctor Harvey was generous enough to lend me a tome from his collection. It's a collection of short stories he had left over from his undergraduate studies. Turns out we went to university around the same time, so it's been a wonderful trip down memory lane. And a relief that it wasn't one of his medical textbooks!"

ALL PATHS CONVERGE: "So… I'm guessing you're probably curious as to how I got here? Besides, of course, the part where you pulled me from death's doorstep."

From the other room, Harvey interjects, monotone, "You weren't on death's doorstep."

"Alright, then you pulled me from the speeding taxi to Death's neighborhood?" he lifts the end of the sentence, looking towards the sound of Harvey's voice for approval.

Harvey's voice comes after a pause, "Wordy, but accurate."

"We'll workshop it," Elliott calls back, then turns his attention back to you. "So, yes, I'm afraid it's not much of a story--unlucky wayfaring sailor caught in a bad storm… The Clockwork Storms, I'm told a bit too late. I've held my own against a few storms in my day, but this was… I didn't give my love the respect she deserves, and as they say, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. A mistake I won't make twice!"

(A perceptive farmer notices a certain flippancy about his story that seems out of place for a man who otherwise appears passionate and verbose.)

He goes on, "Oh, [name], I've been meaning to ask--did you happen to find any of my possessions or a rucksack on me when you revived me?"

You shake your head, indicating it was Willy who got to him first.

"So Willy was the one who pulled me from the sea, and you helped him get me from shore to here? Oh dear, I really was succumbed. Ah well. I'll check with him tomorrow after I get discharged. It'd be nice to have my own clothes back, among other things.

"Thanks for stopping by. It means a lot. I've been many places, and so few as full of kindness as here. I do hope to get to see you again tomorrow."

- - -

Elliott gets discharged from the hospital on the 19th. If you enter Pelican Town before 5pm, you'll encounter Elliott leaving the clinic. He looked well-kept, freshly shaven, and his clothes have been laundered. He wears his same olive green pants and a plain white shirt. He'll flag you down and ask you to help him find his way around.

Sorry, I'm too busy right now.

(no change in approval) Elliott visibly deflates, but forces a smile. "Ah, well. I... suppose I've seen myself through larger ports than this. No matter, I'll find my own way..."

(the cutscene ends with Elliott meandering towards the east side of town, murmuring about finding Willy.)

I'd be happy to!

(Elliott approves) Elliott beams. "Splendid. I knew I could rely on your kindness to see me through."

A short montage style cutscene follows where the farmer appears with Elliott in front of the different areas in Pelican Town. He's shown having a few introductions to the people around town, having a little heart bubble over his head at the library, having a very lively conversation with Robin [about building boats], and going to Pierre's to stock up on a few things. Finally, the farmer walks Elliott over the bridge to the beach.

Elliott takes in a big breath of the sea air and releases it contentedly. "Back again... lovely place, when one's conscious enough to enjoy it."

You take him over to the docks near Willy's shop, and Willy enters the scene from the ocean on his fishing boat. Willy greets you and Elliott. He addresses Elliott, "I remember you sayin' you'd had some belongings so I went back to about where I'd found ya, accountin' fer a few days drift and whatnot, and poked around a bit..."

Willy steps out of his boat and onto the docks, handing him a plank of wood with splintered edges. It has the name of his boat painted on it, but you can't make it out before he puts it under his arm as Willy then hands him a battered and torn rucksack. "Found these. Thought you might like that back. The rucksack I saw was caught on a splintered piece of, well, what's now driftwood, unfortunately."

"I can't begin to thank you enough." Elliott begins to dig through the rucksack. "Once I can get the saltwater out of my town clothes, I'll feel so much more... Hmm." He frowns. "Where's...? I know I put it in here..."

Elliott continues to search. He kneels on the dock and takes out every article of clothing, a few pens, hair ties, soaked rations, and some spare g contained in the rucksack until it is flat and empty. His demeanor begins to falter. "Uh, Willy? A book. Was there a book? Brown leather, bound across the cover with a string, papers, envelopes, writing inside? Did you find anything like that?"

Willy can tell Elliott's becoming distressed. "I... I'm 'fraid not, nothing that I seen like that. I'm sorry."

Elliott stares at the contents of the rucksack. There's an immense heaviness to his features. He kneels there in silence, hardly moving, for a several moments. Finally, he says, "I... see." His voice is low, with no affect. He slowly, numbly, puts the items back in the torn rucksack. Once they're back in, he stands, a bit unsteady. He doesn't look at you or Willy, but you can see the rims of his eyes are red.

"Sincerely, thank you, both of you... I am just... That book was... important. I... need some time alone... please, excuse me."

Elliott walks off screen and the cutscene ends.

Elliott's sprite will remain sitting on the beach, unresponsive, for the remainder of the day. When it becomes dark, he'll move to one of the towels on the beach and lay down, still unresponsive. The game is set not to rain or storm on Summer 19 or 20th.

- - -

If you return to the beach on the 20th, Elliott will still be back to sitting by the water, unresponsive. Willy will approach you, saying he talked to Robin about getting a bed for the old cabin, and that he's gonna let Elliott stay there. He says he picked the best time to stay on the beach, but it won't be that way for long. Willy asks for your help to talk to Elliott. You nod.

You and Willy approach Elliott.

Alright, that's enough moping.

(no approval change) Elliott remains unresponsive.

Hey, there's a cabin you can stay in.

(no approval change) Elliott doesn't look up, distantly shrugs.

Elliott? It's [name] and Willy. We're concerned for you.

(no approval change) Elliott meets your gaze. His eyes are dull and red rimmed. His voice is raspy as he says, "Sorry?"

ALL PATHS CONVERGE: Willy clears his throat. "Ain't right to let somebody stay out in the elements without at least offerin' refuge." Willy motions to the cabin. "Robin'll be by with a bed soon. It ain't much, but you're welcome to use it for s'long as you need."

Elliott's mouth hangs slightly open as he looks between the two of you. He swallows, starts to speak but his voice is cracked. He clears his throat and starts again. "Truly? ...Your kindness knows no bounds."

Willy offers him a hand to help him get up and Elliott takes it, slow to rise. You and Willy walk Elliott over to the cabin and Willy opens the door, letting you all in. It's musty inside, but the sunlight coming through the window gives it a warm, cozy glow.

Willy excuses himself: "Lemme go see about that bed. I reckon she may have other furniture to spare too."

Elliott is quiet for a few moments when you are both alone.

Put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

(Elliott approves) Elliott almost flinches, then like melting ice relaxes into your touch. After a moment, he looks to you and says, "Thank you, [name]. I'm... at a loss for words."

I'll go see about helping, too.

(no approval change) As you turn to leave, Elliott stops you.

ALL PATHS CONVERGE: "I apologize for my... persistent moroseness. Give me a few days, and I'll come around. I'd be happy to speak more with you then."

Elliott is inaccessible for the next 3 days and does not attend any festivals during that time.

- - -

On Summer 23, he begins his normal routine.

He'll greet the farmer the first time they interact with a tired but optimistic smile. "Good to see you again, [name]. Thank you for your understanding earlier. Things still hurt, my heart chief among them, but if grief is love with nowhere to go, it's time to turn my sails to the wind and chart a new course. First things first, I need a new boat... time to get to work!"

If you talk to him again, he'll add, "I'll be keeping myself busy rebuilding, but don't let that turn you into a stranger. Stop by any time. Some company every now and then would be nice."

(end notes: I chose not to give any reactions to when he kisses the farmer's hand in the clinic because we all know what we're here for and it's not to be mean.)

sailor!Elliott AU inventory:

Introduction | General Overworld HCs | Heart Events 1-10 | Proposal and Marriage

[barncultus]

Developing Local Cultus: A Companion Library

In preparation for the revamping of my Local Cultus series over on wordpress, I have begun to gather this small reference library for anyone who may be interested. Containing mostly works which inspired me to set out on the path of developing a localized religious practice, as well as some of my research materials. For those interested in the series, and the topic which it covers, I absolutely recommend giving these titles a flip through.

The first of this series, an introduction and mapping out of what is to come, will be up on the Barn Cultus website by the end of July.

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer Indispensable knowledge of ecological relationships as written by an indigenous woman and professor of environmental biology.

The Green Mysteries by Daniel Schulke An encyclopedia of the spiritual, magical, and folkloric qualities of plants. Written by the Magister of the Sabbatic tradition.

The Golden Bough by James George Frazer Frazer tracks the role of religion and magic up until the modern day, introducing along the way some of the key ideas behind my style of cultus developing (such as re-enchantment). This book is always on my reference shelf, close at hand, and while the anthropology is at times laughably outdated, it is a beautiful read with some interesting groundwork.

Viridarium Umbris by Daniel Schulke I'd be remiss to not include this in my list. Another Schulke work and a comprehensive grimoire of verdant magics. I personally view this book as overhyped, though a should-read, perhaps not a must.

Demons & Spirits of the Land: Ancestral Lore and Practices A foundational text of folkloric land spirits and the operations used by Pre-Modern Europe to interact with them.

Roman Cult Images: The Lives and Worship of Idols from the Iron Age to Late Antiquity In my own eyes, the finding of localized images. Images references the faces, attributes, and fauna of the region in which each divinity of the cultus is depicted. The crafting of cult images, in the forms of eikons and idols, is another aspect of this.

Idolatry Restor'd by Daniel Schulke Schulke speaks to the ensouled fetish, which connects greatly to the idea of the Living Statue and the cultic image. More of a sorcerous read, but worth it nontheless.

We Are In The Middle of Forever: Indigenous Voices of Turtle Island on the Changing Earth I hold the strong conviction that those of us in America who find our bloodlines here through the powers of colonialism absolutely must be listening to indigenous wisdom- full stop. Publications like this one are a huge boon to the mending of the rift between the descendants of colonialism and the land which they inhabit. I think this becomes doubly important to those practices land-based religions.

The Sacred and the Profane by Mircea Eliade I come with the bias of studying the anthropology of religion full time. This book has in many ways aided in bridging the gap between my academic studies and the building of my theologies, and is a profound read by an author with a storied collection of publications within the field.

Mystai: Dancing out the Mysteries of Dionysus An interesting look into the mystery cult of Dionysus during late antiquity. Mystery cults often operated regionally and with localized aspects to their mysteries.

Eleusinian Mysteries and Rites by Dudley Wright All literature on the Eleusinian mysteries is a boon- this is my recommendation. Following the ritual life of the local agriculture cult which has gone down in history as one of the largest surviving cults into the Christianization of Greece.

Walking the Worlds: Building Regional Cultus Less of an academic read than the others on this list, but one I found equally as inspiring. The articles speak to diaspora and tensions of modern polytheism, and I think without some kind of academic pre-knowledge of these topics the articles themselves would fall a little flat, but a worthy read for the genuine pursuant.

Mystery Cults in the Greek and Roman World by the MET

Kongo in Haiti: A New Approach to Religious Syncretism by Luc de Heusch This article explores religious syncretism through the lens of Vodou, an African traditional religion known for its syncretic relationship with Christianity here in the US and Haiti. De Heusch explores a little bit of the roots in West Africa, and how the religion operates in both syncretic and nonsyncretic ways across the African diaspora.

Why Cecropian Minerva?: Hellenic Syncretism as System by Luther H. Martin This article explores syncretism in a western context, from the other side of the isle. This is not syncretism brought on by oppression and colonialism, instead highlighting syncretism theologically proposed by the oppressors, a favorite of the Romans. Martin explores the theology of this, the politics of this, and offers interesting analysis of the historical evidence.

Epithets in the Orphic Hymns by W. K. C. Guthrie There's powers in names. You know it, I know it, Guthrie certainly knows it. Behind that power is meaning. While Guthrie does not particularly touch on regionalized epithets, I still find this to a be a great read to get one thinking about cult specific poetic titles.

[lab1rynth]

Ouhh how about a Yan! Salesman that's Sus af-?

🐄

Yan!Salesman

You had found yourself established within the confines of the new utopia, a refuge painstakingly built amidst the ruins left in the wake of a world gone awry. Within this enclave, an intimate expanse of verdant grass and the picturesque allure of white picket-fenced American dreams stood in stark contrast to the desolation and detritus that stretched beyond its borders. The looming spectre of nuclear warfare had cast its ominous shadow, but your fortunate circumstances granted you the opulence required to secure a sanctuary in these trying times. In this haven beneath the dome, the very concept of currency had been relegated to the annals of history, along with the violence and discord it often perpetuated. A harmonious existence unfurled, one where material wealth held no dominion, and the cacophony of negativity had been silenced. Your faith in this reality remained steadfast, a testament to the promise of an existence detached from the trappings of avarice and strife.

However, as the sun traced its course across the sky one ordinary day, a sound echoed that shattered the tranquil equilibrium you had grown accustomed to—the knock upon your door, an unexpected intrusion into the serene tableau you had come to embrace. The reverberations of that knock seemed to ripple through the very fabric of your belief, an intimation that perhaps even within this oasis, the tendrils of the outside world could insinuate themselves.

A gentleman donning a tailored suit stood before you, a black clipboard clutched in his hand, meticulously adjusting his tie. A broad smile adorned his face as you swung open the door. "Greetings, Mx," he chimed, his hand resting gently over his heart in a self-introduction. "Isn't it a splendid day?" he mused, and you responded with a smile of your own. "Absolutely, sir. The weather is truly amazing today," you remarked while brushing a strand of hair away from your face. You noticed his gaze momentarily fixated on your hand before he met your eyes once again. "Well," he continued, his grin widening, "I have a feeling you'd find Mackle Co.'s latest innovation, the Shaved Ice Maker, simply irresistible! No longer will you have to endure the oppressive heat without a moment of respite. This ingenious gadget is your gateway to instant refreshment. Just envision it: crafting delectable shaved ice creations in a matter of seconds. Whether you're inclined towards the classic allure of fruit-flavored syrups, the adventure of experimenting with vibrant tropical blends, or even the pursuit of concocting your own signature mix, the potential is as limitless as your imagination." However, before he could further elaborate, you raised your hand slightly, politely interjecting, "No thank you, kind sir. I'm not currently wouldn't like anything." He attempted to continue, a trace of enthusiasm still lingering, "Ah, but that's where the beauty lies—" Your decisive gesture cut him off mid-sentence. With a shake of your head, you gently closed the door, putting an end to the conversation with the persistent salesman.

Over the upcoming weeks, he maintained the routine of appearing at your doorstep promptly at 8 AM every morning. As the weeks progressed, it was during the third one that the nature of the items he presented took a bizarre turn. Among them were lingerie, meat cleavers, ropes, and even 'self-pleasuring' devices. Faced with this unsettling evolution, you adopted a strategy of avoidance. Clutching a pillow against your ears, you sought to muffle his incessant knocking by any means possible. The situation had reached a juncture where it felt akin to enduring a form of psychological torment.

However, on a certain day, the cycle abruptly ceased. There was no rap of knuckles against the door, no exuberant voice attempting to sell you items that held no place in your life. Silence hung in the air, unbroken. Intrigued by the sudden shift, you ventured to open the door, half-expecting him to be stationed there, but to your surprise, he was absent. Truly, he was nowhere to be seen. This realization had a profound impact. It elicited a sense of astonishment, causing the day to unfold with a newfound lightness. The weight of enduring the relentless cycle of knocking and scripted discourse was lifted, and a noticeable sense of contentment settled in. Liberated from the hour-long ritual of repetition, a refreshing wave of freedom and alertness washed over you.

That evening, you relished the tranquility as you enjoyed your dinner, took a leisurely shower, and prepared for bed without disturbances. Eventually, you swung open the door to your bedroom, greeted by the enveloping darkness only punctuated by a slender thread of moonlight filtering through the window. As you stepped inside, you extended your body in a languid stretch, accompanied by a soft yawn. Your pajama shirt hitched upwards, baring a hint of your abdomen as your arms reached skyward.

Settling onto your bed, you nestled into a comfortable position and gradually closed your eyes. However, your repose was abruptly shattered by a resounding bang that reverberated through the room. Startled, your eyes flew open, and you instinctively edged away from the source of the disturbance – the door that had unexpectedly slammed shut. In a quickened heartbeat, you propelled yourself upright and hastened to create distance from whatever had orchestrated the forceful closure of your door.

"Do I not excel at salesmanship?" The familiar voice inquired, dripping with familiarity. "I'm rather fond of this occupation, you see! I can't simply allow someone to decline my offerings! I've presented deals, discounts, even items for free!" he rambled, advancing toward you and pushing you against the room's corner, leaving you with little room to maneuver. His breath, warm and charged, danced upon your skin, an uncomfortably intimate proximity.

"Clearly, it's not the products that are the issue! Could it be that I fail to amuse you? Are you playing hard to get?" He exhaled with a touch of exasperation, a reaction that forced a whimper from you due to sheer dread. He chuckled, his fingers taking a firm grip on your face, causing your features to distort and your lips to compress beneath his palm.

"Are you under the delusion that your mere beauty grants you the power to sabotage my profession? Regrettably, that's not how it works," he snarled, his tone laced with a simmering aggression.

He emitted a thoughtful hum, tilting his head and maintaining his intent gaze on your wide, fearful eyes. A faint smile curved his lips, the corners of his mouth lifting gently. "Yes, I think I'll keep you," he remarked, releasing a chuckle that resounded with an eerie note. The once-small smile on his face transformed into a sinister grin that hinted at hidden motives. "Indeed, that's the plan."

With a swift motion, he lifted you from your position, though in that moment, your surge of adrenaline ignited a fierce resistance. Kicking, yelling, and striking out, you fiercely contested his hold. Yet, despite your efforts, he overpowered you, forcefully maneuvering you until you were slammed face-first onto the bed. Your face met the plush comforter, and he pressed you down, muffling your protests. "Quiet!" he commanded, his voice a sharp admonishment.

Taking control, he situated himself atop your back, securing your position with one hand pressed against the back of your head. With the other hand, he deftly worked on loosening his tie, fumbling only momentarily before managing to cinch your hands together. But his actions didn't stop there. Next, he seized your pillow, swiftly removing its case, and proceeded to place the pillowcase within your mouth, securing it tightly behind your head.

"There, there. All settled now," he breathed, his voice carrying an unsettling calmness. "All perfectly hushed and serene."

Subsequently, he hoisted you onto his shoulder, bearing your weight with a casual nonchalance akin to carrying a sack of potatoes. In this unusual posture, he exited your abode, the hinges of your front door releasing a soft creak. An almost carefree whistle escaped his lips, harmonizing with his steps as he walked. Amidst the tune, his voice reemerged, weaving a disquieting narrative.

"I've had my sights set on you for quite some time, my dear," he declared, his tone unwavering. "Nearly eight months have transpired since I initially crossed your threshold and beheld the sheer allure you radiated." His speech flowed seamlessly, punctuated by a contemplative pause. "Instinctively, I recognized the imperative to entice you, to win your favor. Regrettably, your veiled coyness served to complicate my intentions," he mused, his thoughts wandering audibly.

His purposeful stride halted before a dwelling that bore striking resemblance to your own, mirroring the uniformity of the surrounding houses. With practiced precision, he unlocked the entryway and crossed the threshold, sealing himself within. The sound of the door's latch clicking resonated as he twisted it into place, securing both his entry and your shared isolation. "As fate would have it," he disclosed, a trace of undeniable magnetism underlining his words, "my attraction towards you only intensified in its allure."

Continuing with unwavering resolve, he guided you to a securely locked door, revealing its interior as he swung it open. The revealed scene unveiled a set of descending stairs that led to a welcoming and snug basement atmosphere. "Finally, here we are," he mused, a note of satisfaction in his tone. Gently seating you in a well-padded chair, he moved closer, the distance between you diminishing. His voice, soft and controlled, carried a sense of assurance.

"Moving forward," his words conveyed a sense of tranquility, a shared understanding between you, "there's no need for you to consider my products again. You'll remain in my care, free from any such concerns. I love you, my dear.

[cuprohastes]

The Lab Rats

Dave the Human and Dave The Human were checking on the moss substrates - Spot checking for anything that might have snuck in, or any environmental issues that could be detected by checking the moss's bio-accumulation.

Garfield "Garf" Bloom, a 7ft tall, kinda reptilian biped rolled in, in her normal-for-the-species gait, hauled out Un-Named Male, her little guy, out of her pouch and dropped him from a moderate height onto the moss bank.

"Hey Garf." said the Dave that was a female Tsin for biological reasons and a male human for Payroll reasons.

"Yo, you two." said the Dave who was Human, plausibly male but had spent a week as a Female Atrix, as part of a plot to annoy the government.

Un-Named Male flashed a howdy with his display patch and wiggled into the patch of purple moss happily, which is a small Atrix's natural habitat.

"So I heard that the Human science labs still use rats." Garf said. "Do you... not use bio-chips or clone cells?"

Dave with scales scratched her chin. "Dave, you want to take this one?"

Other Dave wiggled a probe into a particularly scruffy clump of moss and nodded. "Indeed I do!" he said.

"You see, rats are very social, and have a short generation span. Back before we could load up cells onto a chip for testing we needed them for... well testing."

"Yesh! Pretty much everyone did that at some point in history." added Dave The Human, Running a spectrograph on a sample to check the light absorption was within the expected range.

Un-Named Male jsut lurked in the soft, moist moss and let the high UV lighting play on his back, which added nothing to the conversation, but he did look very comfortable.

"Right. So when it stopped being necessary for uh, biological testing, rats were often used for behavioural testing. Non-human cognition, social studies, that sort of thing."

"OK..." said Garf, quietly wiggling her fingers into the moss and making a kneading motion, a common and casual motion that would break up the substrate and allow aeration. It was soothing - Even a big Atrix like Garf remembered the comfort of hiding in a moss patch.

The Atrix parts of The Station were basically covered in various species of Moss - Their solution to air quality and comfort, and it'd taken the humans about nine seconds to point at a wall mat of deliciously verdant and fuzzy plant life and go 'Want!'.

Indeed, the introduction of non-native species for one's living quarters was just one of the benefits of the Human-Atrix alliance.

The Tsin, who developed scales to keep their water on the inside had not really taken to it so much, but if you want some fungus to add a little pizazz, they're the go-to.

"Anyway, eventually it sort of got to be a hobby thing. People like rats. They make great pets, they quite like us, and they're very non-judgemental. So someone did this study and found that labs that had a colony of two or more rats had better results... The scientists could go over and fuss with the little fuzzballs and de-stress, and it turns out if you sit down and explain your experiments to a rat, you often figure out what is causing you problems."

"Seriously?" asked Dave The Human.

"Seconded." said Garf.

"Wait, aren't they vermin?"

"Oh totally." said Dave, "Well some are. Same species. But... it turns out if you give them the opportunity they're little fuzzy buddies, so we brought them with us."

"And they're used by human scientists... to figure things out indirectly?"

"For real. Sometimes they get cited in papers as authors," said Dave happily. "I used to keep a couple when I was a Little Guy"

Note: Little Guy in this case is an Atrix phrase. The Atrix pretty much only have one gender which is size. It actually doesn't distinguish male or female. That's a human thing. Even the Tsin have four biological sexes. Un-Named Male is only nominally male because he's small. He is an adult of the species. One day he's going to put on some body mass and develop bipedal locomotion and eventually be a large Atrix, and get his own Little Guy, and be referred to as female.

"That's why they're called Lab Rats - They're essential to Human Science."

Garf pondered this, leaning to run her cheek along a mossy wall. "We just talk to our little guys." she noted casually and a patch of moss said "Grak" in confirmation.

The Tsin in the room made a face. "Dang, yo. I think we're missing out!"

"Hmm," said the more human of the Daves. "I smell an Interspecies Xenthropology collab..."

And that, dearly beloved, is how the Tsin got their Rats.

[fodlansbestmom]

@ordinaryxxgirl

"Hmm...You're pretty lovely, aren't you? I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of meeting someone like you before."

Long, beautiful verdant hair...Ornaments of exotic, yet alluring design...Nicole had to admit, she couldn't turn her gaze away from the shorter woman. That outfit, and all of those accessories, had to be worth a veritable fortune.

But, yet...There was something else drawing the coral-haired woman's attention. Her features...Her beautiful, yet pointed ears, the dress she wore...Even her emerald-hued eyes...It felt almost otherworldly, fascinating even. And that...Got Nicole Demara's attention more than anything else, enough where she decided to try introducing herself in a rather...Unorthodox way.

Carefully, she'd take the other's right hand and kiss it, a mischievous glint in her eyes...Before pulling away and smiling, giggling to herself. Surely, the other wouldn't mind such a bold greeting, would she? ...Well, even if she did, somehow, Nicole would think of something to make up for any offenses.

"I...Hope you don't mind that little greeting just now too much. I just felt like you might enjoy some attention, sweetie. Anyway...My name's Nicole. Nicole Demara. And you are...?"

Bright emeralds peered at the woman before her. A stranger, yes, but a beautiful one. She was awfully fond of pink anything, primarily hair, as it was not so common such as brunet. It was pretty. And she had a matching voice!

A smile curled at her lips when her hand was taken, and a kiss was planted on the back of her hand. The contact was too short, in her opinion, but she couldn’t complain much. Touch was fleeting, such as the blooming of flowers. In a way she nearly yearned for more. Delicate, sweet touches.

“No, I do not mind at all. I find the more bold a greeting is, the more memorable.” Her smile widened. “Are you generally so bold in your introductions?” A light teasing but it’s lighthearted, completely. Ah - Nicole. A name not common in her world. It seemed.. Modern? Much unlike her own. “I am Sothis. But you are correct. I always crave attention.”

[somethingclevermahogony]

OC Intro: The Deep Sun

Hello everyone! Here is the newest OC intro. This one is gonna be a bit different than other introductions that I have done. The next poll will be up tonight!

Name: Da Dóp Fricandel "The Deep Sun"

"I have forgotten what my name was when I first ventured here from one of the spirit realms, I cannot tell you which one. That was millennia ago, when mountains were young, when the ocean water was sweet, before what you call the Age of Glass and Metal. In the tongue of those whose spawn now surround you I was called Da Dóp Fricandel, that is The Deep Sun. I rather like that name. I believe it suits me."

This continues below the cut!

Family

Children/Creation: The Kosheki

Narul looked out at the pale crowd, they looked back at him with their expressionless eyes. “What are these…things?” The Deep Sun laughed, a surprisingly soft and musical sound. “I’m shocked that you don’t know Narul. Come on, make a guess.” "Why would I know what these monsters are? I’ve never seen these things in my life." The Deep Sun sighed, shaking his head. " Oh, how times have changed. They are like you, dear boy." " These are spiritbloods?" Narul asked, revolted. " No, no! Well at least not these ones. These are humans, or at least a more perfect form of them."

Homeland/Place of Origin

One of the realms of the spirits, exactly which one is unknown. Prior to the Age of Glass and Metal the Deep Sun was simple spirit, a rather small spirit of the soil and rock, who lived on the Isle of Stān, now called the Island of the Kosheki.

The accursed island loomed ahead of them, a great rocky crag towering over a foundation of verdant green hills, jutting out of the water, lonely and cold.  “There she is,” Istek said, gazing at the island solemnly. The birds that circled the stony peak called out mournfully into the mist. The rocky beach was littered with the wrecks of ships, hundreds of them from every era, all in various states of decay. Great warships, their wooden ribs jutting into the sky like the bones of slain dragons. Royal barques, smashed by the waves, their ornate sides now choked with algae and rot. Merchants ships, their contents haphazardly strewn across the white sand, Ikopeshi raiding canoes torn asunder and scattered amongst the beach stones.The newest vessel was a Knoshic fishing boat, its sail still flapping softly in the breeze. A great hole had been made in its side, as if a great something had ripped into it.

History

"I trust that you have heard of the Great Calamity?"

" The fairytale?" Narul asked cautiously.

There was silence for a moment, and then the demon tilted his head back and laughed with such intensity that the doors of the cages rattled.

" A fairytale? Oh my boy. I like you already! Tell me what you know about the Great Calamity, what fairytales do they tell in your city?"

Narul closed his eyes, remembering the stories Bira had told him.

" A long time ago, the people of Kobani were rich and prosperous. They made great cities of glass and metal. They grew so powerful that they thought themselves better than the gods. For their hubris, they were punished, the great cities were destroyed, and only the pious remained. Everyone in Kobani now are the descendants of those pious people." He thought of the tunnel and the strange orbs. Glass and metal.

The demon chuckled and wagged a finger.

" No. No. All wrong. You savages weren't punished for your impiety. Do you truly think that is such a pressing matter to the gods? Do you think that the arbiters of the universal laws of nature care if you pray or make the proper sacrifices? They ruled over Kobani long before your kind or any of your kin were here, before any sentient life besides we spirits were here. No, your crime was far worse. Your ancestors discovered a way to harvest the het. The soul. The spirit. You found a way to rip the essence of being from its place and turn it into fuel for your machines and to light your houses."

" But that's impossible," Narul interjected, the het was an intangible thing, it was no more possible to secure it then it was to trap light in a bottle.

" Oh, it was very much possible. And when a het is destroyed, burnt up, it is gone forever. The soul will not reincarnate. It will not continue on to the next world. By harvesting het, a being is doomed to oblivion, thus interrupting a thread in the intricate web of reincarnation crafted by the gods. So the het that is destroyed in Kobani means that a baby is not born in the next world."

" I don’t believe that people would do that…it's evil, why would they?" Narul muttered softly.

" Oh, I haven't gotten to my favorite part, my naive little friend. At first, you people only harvested het from animals, which caused untold ecological catastrophe not only here on Kobani but on other worlds too. Entire ecosystems withered, species vanished. But it wasn't enough; your cities grew too big, too power-hungry, you longed for luxury. So you turned on each other; your criminals, your prisoners of war, your destitute, your diseased, your unwanted. Your ancestors turned mortals souls into commodities, your drove your own cousins the tree-tenders to extinction. The depths of your species’ depravity is truly awe inspiring. The gods made this world and gifted you the privilege of living amongst it, they filled it with beauty. Every human could live in comfort, could go to sleep with a full belly and roof over their heads. You were loved, cherished. We spirits lived to make the world one which suited you, we strived to make the world beautiful and fruitful. We loved you, myself included. We gave you the tools to make the world more beautiful than you had found it. But you squandered the gifts that you were given. In your twisted, broken, greedy little heads, you justified how one man could live with the means of thousands of his peers while others starved in the mud. You consumed and destroyed with such voracity and foolishness that you drove my kin to despair. Your gross negligence of your fellow man, your greed and hatred, that is what birthed the first demons, you twisted us, disillusioned us.”

Narul felt a knot in his stomach as he listened to the demon speak, he didn’t dare respond.

 The Deep Son continued. “In their overconsuming need for more, your ancestors consigned millions to the void. And when they started attacking spirits. Needless to say, that was just too much. The gods knew that if you were allowed to continue like this then the world would be thrown into complete chaos, and all life would crumble. To save the cycle of reincarnation, and ultimately life on all worlds from falling apart, the gods elected to wipe out your civilization."

" And that was the Great Calamity," Narul whispered softly.

" It was glorious. The world burned and froze and burned again until your kind and all of their creations were scoured from the face of Kobani. Your cities which reached towards the heavens were smashed to dust. Though, of course, some of my kin still had a soft spot for you creatures, they hoped that you could be reformed. They invited you into their homes deep in the mountains, with the condition that you leave your tools behind you, tools like that.” He waved a dismissive hand towards the strange metal suit which lay dusty and abandoned among the refuse. “Those are your ancestors, not the pious or noble. The poor. Those unfortunate sods who could not so easily prey on the world around them."

Narul looked at the metal walls and at the gaunt figures.

" Is that what this is? One of those places where the good spirits hid people?"

" Oh no. Men made this, a marvel of human engineering. You see some of your kind were not content with paying for their crimes, for reincarnating in the next world, as they would have. And so they built this place in hopes that when the gods had finished their justice on the world above, they could emerge triumphant with their machines and continue their wickedness. They lived down here in comfort, men of business and government. The fools thought they were so clever; they thought they could hide from us, from justice. But I found them, and I punished them for their arrogance. I whispered to them in the shadows. I destroyed their food, and I plunged them into darkness. I ripped apart their machines and engines. I drove them mad.” The demon chuckled. “With no food, they fed on each other. I scrapped away their pretensions and revealed the feral evil beasts that they were. All their culture and superiority was wiped away in an instant. All it took was a bit of hunger. And when they had forgotten what light was like, when they had been reduced to vermin cowering in the shadows. I revealed myself to them, their Sun. They are my Kosheki. They worship me, Narul. Look at them. All they know is hunger and love for me. I am their god, their everything.”

The Deep Sun reached out to caress the face of one of the Kosheki. “ I have molded them into a more beautiful human. Perhaps not physically, but mentally. I have taken their concept of self. There is no greed, no hatred. They do not murder, rape, or steal. They know only a childlike love, a pure love. They appreciate every meal, they dance without fearing judgment, and they look at me as their father, their warming sun. Look at them, Narul. Innocent. Gentle.” He cooed softly.

Appearance

Narul turned towards the deep rumbling voice. At the center of the room sat what he had thought was a great bonfire. He saw the face first, peering out from the tongues of flame. A man's face, though twisted, the lips stretched, the crevices of the face deep, as if they had been carved there by hammer and chisel. The figure reclined on the floor, his chin resting upon his clawed hand. His nudity was disguised by the inferno that emanated from his crimson skin. The eyes glowed, in each a single glowing ember surrounded by black coal, burning deep into Narul, terrible and yet beautiful.

She looked down into the calm waters and saw it, a face looking back up at her from just below the surface. It was human, or at least human in shape. The glowing red face was surrounded by a mane of fiery locks that danced and undulated in defiance of any current. It's eyes burned like coals. As it looked up at her its lips twisted into a smile. Two of the monster's claws took hold of the sides of the ship and began to shake the vessel to and fro.

Before his eyes the demon began to contort and change, his body roiling and stretching, extra limbs erupting from his scaly skin. Its body was long and sleek like a snake, its torso supported by six clawed arms. Its face remained the same.

Personality

The Deep Sun is cruel, vindictive, he relishes in pain and humiliation. His view on humans is shaped by the pain and fear experienced by millions of spirits, mortals, and animals that fell to Ekatsim Technology.

Gender/Pronouns

(Most spirits are not gendered, Narul typically refers to the demon with he/they pronouns)

Sexual Orientation

Asexual and Aromantic (Most spirits do not feel sexual attraction of any sort)

Relationships

The Deep Sun's relationship with his creations, the Kosheki and the spiritblood, Sadaric, is manipulative and cruel, reliant on control and possession. He does seem to feel some sort of tenderness for his “pets”, though whether that could be considered love is doubtful.

Favorite Color

Black

Favorite Food

Most spirits do not eat, though they do enjoy the aroma of cooking food. The Deep Sun enjoys the smell of the Kosheki's meals, which typically consist of the poor sailors that land on the Island's shore.

Biggest Fear

Ekatism Technology

Arkodian Bronze

Sage

No (Spirit/Demon, capable of magic dependent of sagecraft)

Literate

No

No excerpt here since most of this post is made up of excerpts haha

@patternwelded-quill @flaneurarbiter @skyderman @blackblooms @roach-pizza @illarian-rambling @dezerex @theocticscribe @axl-ul, @persnickety-peahen, @surroundedbypearls , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @mk-writes-stuff

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

Cowpatriarchy Theory

A rock-climbing trip to the countryside and a wander through its verdant fields of bovine ruminants led me to reflect once again upon a great truth about life, sex differences, men and women:

Put one bull into a field full of cows; come back a year later and you’ll find a field full of calves (and one very happy bull).

Put one cow into a field full of bulls and a year later you’ve only got one calf (and one very unhappy cow).

This seems to me a very good illustration of the differences between how the male and female of our own and other species came to be valued and treated: Eggs are costly; sperm is cheap. Women are valuable commodities; men are expendable utilities. This is the deepest and most fundamental reason we all - women and men - innately care for women more than we do men.

As a man, it certainly would be nice if women cared for and sought to protect every man they see more than other women - heavenly, in fact - but reality is what it is. And we are what we are. Men and women aren’t ‘equal’ because the sexes are - by definition- different. Those differences are necessarily strongest the closer we get to any matter related to reproduction (and hence sexual behaviour, experiences and expectations), but also when it comes to anything related to the survival and protection of the offspring such coupling begets: to protect the children, one has to also protect the women from which the children are borne, to put their safety and survival first, too.

And so this is why there is not now, nor has there ever been, any human society which sends its women down the mines and out to hunt and into war while the men stay at home and play with the children. If, hypothetically, there ever was a society that tried to exist that way, then clearly they died out (or were wiped out) without leaving a single trace of their existence anywhere (and for pretty obvious reasons).

This is not ‘patriarchy’ or ‘male privilege’ or any other ideological entry in the feminist lexicon: the universal division of labor between the sexes is something we evolved over millions of years because that’s how we best survived in a hostile natural world. As civilizations sprung up and cities appeared, the hunter/gatherer roles of man and woman rapidly became more abstract, complex and sophisticated: the man went out to work in an office instead of going out to hunt, and the woman kept house and cooked food in increasingly comfortable kitchens instead of tending the campfire in the rain.

It was only in the 20th century, with the rise of industrialization and the safety and simplicity of factory and office work - along with the introduction of the pill in the 1960s - that women could actually begin to enter the modern workforce on something like an equal footing to the men already there working to provide for their wives and families at home. But because of simple biology (men can’t bear children, so every human being must be carried and nursed by a woman) men are still going to have to work more hours and provide more resources than the women (which, of course, goes a long way to explaining much of the purported ‘pay gap’ in men and women’s lifetime earnings).

Anyhow, the point is: we didn’t invent our fundamental gender roles, any more than the birds or the bees or the zebras or the aardvarks or the cows or the bulls did theirs. Hence, human beings today gravitating towards these roles is no evidence of a secret conspiracy to keep the women down - indeed, the universally-practiced division of labor was introduced by society - and mother nature - only to put the needs and safety of women first.

And that, class, is the main reason the fundamental tenets of all feminist theory are so perplexingly wrong. I know you've been wondering.

[moltz23]

The Achilles Heel of Fodlan's Most Fantastic Weapon - Analysis & Theory.

As a mere concept, futuristic missiles showing up from nowhere in a medieval-western fantasy setting like Fire Emblem makes for some pretty neat spectacle. In Three Houses, though? This unfortunately comes with some questions left unanswered, forcing people (like me) to come up and find answers of our own. So after considering what 3H tells the player about these fantastic weapons, as well of our current world’s (known) weapon development, I think I might have finally stumbled across why, as cool and seemingly overpowered the “Javelins of Light” appear to be, are ultimately highly impractical pieces of tech which should honestly get whoever worked on them fired.

I feel I must stress however, that at the end of the day, no matter how much in-game evidence I used to back things up, a portion of this analysis should fall into the theory spectrum. Also, I’m not a weapon/missile expert by trade, so there’s that.

So without further ado, here’s the introduction to our topic at hand:

What are the “Javelins of Light”?

Live footage of the things in action.

In Three Houses’ Fódlan, the “Javelins of Light” are “those who slither in the dark” ‘s trump card; highly destructive yet suggested to be impractical (more on this later) missile-shaped objects that fall from the sky and explode upon impact.

Lore-wise, the Javelins of Light - or Pillars of Light, as the Agarthan that wrote Romance of the World’s Perdition (found in the DLC Shadow Library) calls them - are mentioned to have been built by the civilization of Agartha over 1000 years before the main story, for the purpose of killing Sothis. And in spite of all the destruction and death caused, they weren’t enough to do the job, forcing Agartha’s survivors to flee and hide as Sothis erased their civilization from the map. Many centuries later - after Nemesis’ defeat, but before the War of the Eagle and Lion -, “those who slither in the dark'' attempted to use the javelins to blow up the Holy Tomb, but were redirected thanks to a spell Sothis had placed in the area which disrupted their trajectory, blowing up Ailell instead and turning it into Fodlan’s equivalent of Lethal Lava Land.

Afterwards, TWSITD refrained from using them ever again… For a few more centuries at least.

in the Verdant Wind & Silver Snow routes, the trump card returns once the story mission that takes place in the Empire’s Fort Merceus is beaten, blowing up the fortification to smithereens just as Byleth’s faction luckily avoids the danger by chasing the Death Knight (who was all to aware of what would happen, luring the gang on purpose). After Edelgard’s death, Hubert reveals post-mortem that he detected the exact moment when the sorcery triggering the missiles was used, and somehow used that to find the Agarthans headquarters, which he discloses in a letter. And once Shambhala is invaded and Thales (TWSITD’s boss) is defeated, as a last resort, the dude summons multiple missiles to destroy his enemies, but fails due to Rhea literally tanking some them for Byleth and his crew, causing Thales to die from random debris, and Rhea to be wounded lethally (whether she dies or not in SS depends on the player’s choices).

This shot will never not crack me up. Honestly.

In the Crimson Flower path, Thales - masquerading as Edelgard’s uncle, Lord Arundel - arranges a few javelins of light to drop on the Kingdom’s Arianrhod as revenge once he gets the confirmation from Edelgard that Cornelia’s death - in truth, Cleobulus and an Agarthan plant - was fully intentional, and the choice of words used (“I will be praying [...] that the Empire will not become another Arianrhod”) make clear his move was meant to be a deterrent against future backstabs. Given how Edelgard quickly covers up the event and later unleashes the Imperial army over the Agarthans sometime after dealing with Rhea and the Kingdom anyways, Thales’ gambit ultimately ends up being for naught.

Lastly, no javelins of light are ever used in the Azure Moon branch, though incidentally, it’s also the only non-Edelgard route which kills Arundel before Byleth’s chosen faction makes their way to Fort Merceus…

…Oh, and as far story-purpose goes, in Verdant Wind and Silver Snow, they’re used to having Byleth and co. go to Shambhala, while in Crimson Flower they’re used to explore further Edelgard’s relationship with the slitherers.

The Implications Behind the Trump Card

First, let’s go over what the game suggests about the things which make them so damn impractical:

Two routes point out that the weapons can't be abused at their leisure. For what’s worth, TWSITD blows up Fort Merceus in Verdant Wind and Silver Snow only because they were confident Byleth and co. would be there, and not to mention, both Hubert and the Death Knight knowing it would happen all but states Byleth’s group was intended to be killed there).

The only other instances where the “pillars of light” are used rashly are either because: 1. Thales has been cornered and has nothing left to lose (VW/SS): and 2. Thales is visibly pissed over his “pawn” killing his spies like nothing, and is trying to exert some control over her (CF). This stands out a lot given the Agarthans have a serious problem of hubris clouding their judgment at times, so seeing them being so careful with their usage implies a lot of how much they value them.

Thales has exclusive access to them: He’s seen summoning them in Shambhala in the Verdant Wind and Silver Snow routes; in Crimson Flower, he alludes something will befall Arianrhod upon finding out the circumstances behind Cornelia’s death - which turn to be the his trump card-; and in Azure Moon… Thales dies before everyone goes to Fort Merceus, and no missiles ever rain over the location. Thus, it would be criminal to ignore him entirely for his analysis given how much the story points out all the “javelins” employed are due to his will.

Whatever happened with Ailell was an exception, not the rule: Ailell by the time the plot takes place is a living wasteland of lava due to the “javelins of light”, and yet, none of the missiles used in animated cutscenes or even described in person carry this much destructive potential. Meaning, either Ailell was a dormant volcano before missiles fell on it, or the specific “javelins” used were, simply put, “built different“ and are no longer an option.

How a ballistic missile works, courtesy of Wikipedia.

By now, it goes without saying that the biggest criticisms the “javelins of light” have as a plot device, is that their weaknesses are never openly addressed and just merely “suggested”, and that’s understandably an issue if one’s trying to convince beyond reasonable doubt that there’s a good reason why the slitherers use them so seldomly, and prefer to scheme and attempt to manipulate important people in Foldan instead.

So in the end, how do we prove these fantastic weapons have an achilles heel at all? Well, I think we can reach a highly likely (yet ultimately theoretical) answer to this dilemma… By answering yet another question:

What truly are the “Javelins of Light"?

I’ve seen many, many people call the “javelins of light" online as nukes or ballistic missiles/ICBMs. But given what in-game evidence we have, both proposals just can’t be true:

First, and as previously mentioned, none of the weapons deployed in the present ever reach a comparable amount of destruction to a nuke, and Aillel’s aftermath being such a peculiar case makes it more of an exception rather than the rule of thumb.

And second, none of the missiles are even seen being launched from the ground. In all cutscenes they appear, the first thing that pops up are purple rings, which are then followed by the “javelin” falling through the path those rings set for it. This happens even near Shambhala, where one would otherwise expect them to launch from the ground if we go by the assumption these are indeed ordinary ballistic missiles/ICBMs Hubert used to find Shambhala’s location through analyzing their trajectory…

How a ballistic missile works, courtesy of Wikipedia.

In turn and, by process of the elimination, this leaves us with one kind of missile that fits behavior of the Javelins of Light to a tee, which as of this post, is still just hypothetical.

The Kinetic / Orbital Missile.

The idea behind them is simple; have missiles fall from the sky anywhere you would ever want, and let the kinetic force - AKA, the fall - do most of the job. And not only that, these can be - design wise - as simple as a giant pillar as a result, leading many people to nickname this idea as “rods from god” due to the weapons being seemingly launched from the heavens themselves. Sounds familiar?

If all this sounds too good to be true, then that’s because it is. As stated before, the concept behind this type of missile is still - currently - just an idea due to the logistics behind them being nothing short of a nightmare. Most importantly for the topic at hand though, a key step in setting them up involves sending them to space first, so they may later be launched from a satellite or something floating in the atmosphere.

And it’s right here where 3H’s lore screws the Agarthans hard, as the only existing reports where there’s anything remotely hinting the missiles were launched from the ground at some point (knowingly, implied, or otherwise) comes from “Romance of the World’s Perdition”:

"The False God must be defeated before the world sinks into a watery grave. To this end, the children of men have erected pillars of light upon the land. Thinis, Malum, Septen, and Llium were utterly destroyed. Those lands have vanished from this world. Yet even still, the False God stands. And soon, a flood aptly named Despair will drown this world."

As a quick reminder, this book is pretty much a relic from the era the Agarthan civilization that existed over 1000 years before the main story, as all of the cities being blown up mentioned in the book no longer exist in Fodlan. The missiles clearly were once on land before, but not anymore, given how they always drop from the sky…

The Achilles Heel of the “Divine Retribution”

In the end, with all the evidence at our disposal, I believe it’s possible to identify - to a theoretical level at least - why the “Javelins of Light” aren’t truly a “press the button to win” for the Agarthans. This achilles heel is split into 3 key points:

Finite number: If TWSITD doesn’t have the means to send new “pillars” into space, then logic dictates they just simply have a very finite number of missiles they’re forced to work with, so it’s best to make every one of them count. After all, if they had found a solution to the javelin problem (which didn’t give away the location of their HQ so blatantly, like teleporting them through magic or something), chances are they would have already used it.

Thales: Besides being the one that calls the shots on the javelins used, people often forget that the dude at his core is a schemer, not a fighter. Unless you really force his hand/piss him off, he will give the missiles the most strategic use possible, and will refrain from abusing them if he sees value in other methods and ideas, such as in CF where he wants to keep his partnership with Edelgard and the Empire going post-war and even have her potentially conquer the world later (it never pans out, but it’s the thought that counts).

Garreg Mach/Holy Tomb has a jamming spell. Sothis did something to the area so it’s 100% invulnerable to missiles, thus forcing the Agarthans to come up with another way to get rid of the Church and Rhea. Incidentally, this is why Thales never uses the missiles during his final fights in both Scarlet Blaze and Azure Gleam routes from the Warriors: Three Hopes spinoff; because it would be a resounding failure.

Thales, probably having to remind his cronies every century or so why blowing up Fodlan up with missiles isn't an option.

So in Conclusion…?

Whatever FE game we get later down the line that puts similar emphasis to lore as 3H did really needs to be clear on why your antagonistic forces can’t brute-force their way into victory. Truth be told, It’s not a dealbreaker to me (more so once I figured all this out), but it definitely adds to the frustration and belief the Agarthans should not have been in Three Houses to begin with (which is easier said than done, but that’s a topic for another day…)

And like always, many thanks to those who have kept up with all this wall of text up until now! If I had to ask a question to y’all though, it would be something like: if you had the choice to change something about the “Javelins of Light”, what would it be?

[mindyjacks]

The Wardian London Canary Wharf and Landmark Pinnacle London: A Comprehensive Guide to Two of London's Most Iconic Developments

Introduction Canary Wharf, one of London's most iconic skylines, is synonymous with modern living and towering architectural wonders. This district, once known as the hub of London's shipping industry, has transformed into a vibrant financial centre and a desirable residential area. Among the latest developments to grace this skyline are the wardian london canary wharf and Landmark Pinnacle. These two developments, while distinct in their own right, represent the pinnacle of luxury living in Canary Wharf.

The Evolution of Canary Wharf Historical Background Canary Wharf's transformation from a derelict docklands area to a thriving financial district is a story of regeneration and innovation. Originally part of the West India Docks, Canary Wharf was the centre of the British Empire's trade routes. However, by the mid-20th century, the area had fallen into decline, with the docks closing in 1980.

The Growth of Canary Wharf as a Financial Hub The 1980s saw the beginning of Canary Wharf's revival, driven by the government's urban regeneration programme. The construction of One Canada Square, once the tallest building in the UK, marked the area's transition into a financial powerhouse. Today, Canary Wharf is home to some of the world's leading banks, financial institutions, and multinational corporations.

Architectural Innovations in Canary Wharf The architectural landscape of Canary Wharf is a blend of modernity and innovation. With buildings like the Gherkin and the Shard setting the standard, developments like the Wardian London and Landmark Pinnacle continue to push the boundaries of design and functionality.

2. Wardian London – A Modern Oasis Introduction to Wardian London Wardian London is more than just a residential development; it is a concept inspired by the natural world. Named after the Wardian case, a 19th-century invention that revolutionised plant transportation, this development brings a slice of nature into the heart of the city.

Architectural Design and Inspiration The design of Wardian London is a testament to the fusion of nature and urban living. The twin towers, standing tall amidst the cityscape, are adorned with verdant balconies and sky gardens, creating a sanctuary in the sky.

The Concept of Urban Gardening Wardian London is at the forefront of the urban gardening movement, offering residents a unique blend of city living and nature.

3. Wardian London – A Modern Oasis Introduction to Wardian London Wardian London is more than just a residential development; it is a concept inspired by the natural world. Named after the Wardian case, a 19th-century invention that revolutionised plant transportation, this development brings a slice of nature into the heart of the city.

Architectural Design and Inspiration The design of Wardian London is a testament to the fusion of nature and urban living. The twin towers, standing tall amidst the cityscape, are adorned with verdant balconies and sky gardens, creating a sanctuary in the sky.

The Concept of Urban Gardening Wardian London is at the forefront of the urban gardening movement, offering residents a unique blend of city living and nature.

4. Landmark Pinnacle London – A Towering Masterpiece Introduction to Landmark Pinnacle pinnacle landmark is one of the tallest residential towers in Europe, standing at an impressive 75 storeys. This iconic development offers a blend of modern living and unparalleled views of London.

Architectural Marvels and Design The sleek, glass-clad design of Landmark Pinnacle is a symbol of contemporary architecture. The tower’s minimalist aesthetic is complemented by its cutting-edge facilities, making it a standout in the Canary Wharf skyline.

5. Location and Accessibility Connectivity of Wardian London Located on the edge of Canary Wharf, the wardian london benefits from excellent transport links. The development is just a short walk from the Canary Wharf Underground station, which provides access to the Jubilee Line and the upcoming Elizabeth Line (Crossrail).

Accessibility of Landmark Pinnacle Landmark Pinnacle is situated in a prime location with easy access to major transport hubs. Residents can easily connect to the Docklands Light Railway (DLR), Jubilee Line, and Crossrail, making commuting across London a breeze.

Proximity to Key Landmarks and Attractions Both Wardian London and Landmark Pinnacle are within walking distance of some of London’s most iconic attractions, including the O2 Arena, Greenwich Park, and the vibrant West India Quay.

6. Sustainability and Environmental Considerations Eco-friendly Features of Wardian London Wardian London is designed with sustainability in mind. The development incorporates energy-efficient systems, green roofs, and sustainable materials, making it an environmentally responsible choice for urban living.

Sustainability Efforts at Landmark Pinnacle Landmark Pinnacle also places a strong emphasis on sustainability. The tower features a rainwater harvesting system, energy-efficient lighting, and a comprehensive recycling programme, reducing its environmental footprint.

[jakekiszkaenthusiast]

songbird || buzzkill

warnings: swearing, arguing, jake being a bit of an asshole lmao.

author’s note: i don’t really have much to say except thank you everyone for reading chapter one, i really hope this series is good for you guys!!

“okay- before we go in, let’s discuss how things are going to be.” 

she and rory are sat outside of a large, unfamiliar building, still clipped into their car seats. they were meant to be there for 10 am sharp, but timing had never been either of their strong suits- they were always late, to everything, even though the building was in reality a short walk from robin’s apartment.

robin anxiously checks the time on her phone, before setting it down on the dashboard. her hands rested on the skirt of her dress, running the soft, flowing fabric between her fingers. this was one of her most favourite dresses- decorated with soft pink flowers and verdant leaves, the bodice was made of a delicate broderie anglaise, with a full skirt, stopping mid-calf. 

she always preferred to wear dresses. there was just something about them that made her feel soft, delicate and beautiful. the swish of her skirt with every step she took was something she adored, and actively detested wearing anything like pants.

“fine, shoot.” she replied.

“right. things are about to move really fast, and it’s gonna feel like you’ve been hit by a bus. we have a lot of ground to cover- photoshoots, going to his shows, going out and about with him; we basically just need you guys to be seen together constantly. and of course, the first course of action is actually meeting jake. that’s what we’re doing today, he’s inside right now.” 

rory’s final sentence sent a bolt of nervous energy through her stomach, and she had to hold herself still for a long moment, for fear of vomiting. rory watched her friend swallow thickly, gripping the side of the car door with white knuckles. 

“o-okay.” she whispered, closing her eyes tightly. 

“i know this is really, really scary. but i’m here, okay? every step of the way.” rory said, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“let’s just get it over with. i know i said i wanted to do it, but the longer we sit here the more convinced i am that this is a mistake.” she spoke quickly, her tongue feeling fat in her mouth.

 “once you guys meet, things will be better. he’s nice, apparently.” 

“sure.” she humphed, undoing her seatbelt and stepping out into the slowly rising warmth of the day. 

despite the blast of cool air hitting her face as she entered the reception area, she couldn’t feel more warm. her raised heartbeat only added to her panicked state, and she twisted her sweating palms into her skirt. suddenly, her legs felt ready to buckle, but she was lucky to have the front desk to lean her weight onto.

 as rory checked them both in and received directions to the necessary floor, she stared blankly at a stack of business cards, feeling the urge to reorganise them into neat, straight lines. this was it- the defining moment for, well, the whole ‘relationship’. the elevator quietly thrummed to life as the two girls stepped inside, rory swiftly pressing a button, taking a nervous breath of her own. they stood in silence, neither one able to make conversation, not with the knowledge that life as they both knew it was about to change drastically. 

the doors slid open, revealing a well-decorated office space- art, framed photos of the band and the various awards they must have won over the years covered the walls, and a large table sat in the middle of the room. people she assumed to be the band’s team stood up at the sound of their footsteps, wide, phoney smiles upon their faces. 

she could see three men she recognised as jake’s bandmates stood to the side of the room with paper cups in their hands and apprehensive eyes watching her every move. she gave them a small, timid smile, and the only one to return it was…she wanted to say his name was sam? 

introductions were made, her assistant doing almost all of the talking. a single, reassuring hand rested on her shoulder as rory made up an excuse for their tardiness. the man she guessed was jake’s manager waved off the explanation with a carefree hand, telling them he was just glad they showed up. 

“we weren’t so sure you were going to appear.” he laughed, and her lips tugged up into a forced smile. she didn’t find it funny, but politeness was necessary in situations like this. not that she had ever been in a situation like this, but she had to assume. 

“jake is just through here, in one of our more quiet meeting rooms. go on, go right ahead.” his manager lead them through a short hallway, resting his hand on the handle of a door to their right. 

the door cracked open just slightly, and she felt rory’s hand on the square of her back- whether it was a sweet gesture to remind her that she was still with her, or to push her into the room, she wasn’t so sure. 

“we’ll be out here, waiting for you two.” 

“wait- it’s just us in there?” she pauses, resisting against rory’s hand, which was definitely trying to shove her into the room. 

“yes, we thought it would be best for you two to chat, get to know each other, discuss the situation in private, away from everyone.” 

“you’ll be okay, rob. just step right in.” rory whispered, and she whipped her head to glare daggers into her face. 

she brushed rory’s hand off of her, sighing a frustrated gust of air from her mouth, before pushing the door open and stepping inside. 

jake was sitting with his chin resting on his fist, staring at the table with a sullen look on his face. he wore a light yellow linen shirt, rumpled and unbuttoned down to his navel; he wore long necklaces, and a well-loved bracelet wrapped around his wrist, clearly once white, but now a dirtied, almost grey colour. 

he took a while to look up, as if he was convincing himself to do it. when his eyes did flick over to look at her, her heart picked up its pace even more than before- his stare was heavy, laden with displeasure and reproach. 

“hi.” she says quietly, forcing her feet to move closer to the table, begging her hands to do something. she takes a chair opposite him, dragging it out and awkwardly perching herself on it. looking over at him, she found him already staring with that same, displeased glare in his eyes. 

he remained silent, pursing his lips. she cleared her throat, darting her eyes around the room in hopes of avoiding his stare, but no matter where she looked she was achingly aware of his eyes boring into her face, silently judging and analysing her. 

“so.” she says with uncertainty, forcing herself to look him in the eye. 

he still doesn’t answer, and she can’t help but feel helpless. if he wasn’t going to speak, how are they supposed to get to know each other? 

“do you- do you have any, uhm, favourite musicians?” she stutters and stumbles over her words, aware of how stupid and awkward her question was before it even passed her lips. 

she couldn’t just sit there, though. she needed something to break the ice, to crack his barely-contained anger and guide them into a conversation. 

he takes in a deep breath, flexing his hand against the wooden table. 

“listen- i don’t want this any more than you do, so there’s no need to talk, or even be pleasant towards each other, okay?” his voice is husky and low, matching his dark eyes. 

“o-okay.” 

she opens her mouth to speak again, her eyebrows creased with confusion, but jake quickly pushes his chair backwards, shoving himself out of it and onto his feet. he swiftly leaves the room, slamming the door behind him. 

she releases a tense breath, eyes wide with panic. what now? does she stay here in hopes that he comes back? 

a knock sounds after a long five minutes, and rory pokes her head cautiously through the door, an apologetic look on her face. 

“everything okay?” 

she buries her face in her hands, resting her elbows on the table. tears of anxiety wanted to fall from her eyes, but she squeezes them tightly shut, blowing a stuttering breath from her mouth. 

“he’s an asshole, rory.” 

“he’s just- angry. he’ll soften over time.” 

“what if he doesn’t, though? what if i have to spend months pretending to be in love with someone who hates me?” she slams her hands down on the table, the noise echoing through the room. 

“i don’t know, hon. things will work themselves out, and you’ll forget this even happened. he’ll come around, robbie.” rory tries to sound comforting, but she can’t help but feel even more hopeless at her friend’s words. 

if this was how things were gonna be, she wasn’t so sure if she could handle it. 

••• 

robin’s head hurt. 

trying to listen to rory’s incessant nagging and ignore the throbbing sensation in her left eye was a task robin found was soundly kicking her ass- every twinge made her wince, every light was too bright for her over-sensitive eyes, every sound much too loud. 

“and remember, you have to actually be near him. you can’t ignore him. are you listening to me?” 

she pushed the heel of her palm into her forehead, looking up at her assistant with bleary, hazy eyes. her makeup just barely took away the ashen colour of her face- almost ridiculous amounts of bronzer had saved her this evening, and gave the outward impression to anyone who didn’t yet know her that she was perfectly fine. 

of course, if she hadn’t spent all week drinking too much wine and barely sleeping, she would be feeling a lot better in this moment. now that she was actually required to leave the house and look semi-decent, she regretted those lost hours of sleep, tsking at her dark circles and pale skin. 

there had been a feeling of dark, disgruntled heaviness fluttering over her head for the six days that had passed since meeting jake. she, as she so often did, hid away from the world to recover, to soften her angered mind and step back- take time to create music, write poetry, drink, relax. 

robin called it recuperating. rory called it sulking. 

“i said, are you listening to me?” rory repeated, tapping her foot against the wooden floor. 

“yeah, yeah- i’m sorry. this migraine is just- it’s kicking my ass.” 

“i know, but we gotta go soon. pop some advil, pretend you’re having the time of your life and be. nice.” 

“why should i have to be nice? he was the one who stormed out like a fucking child when all i did was say hi.” 

“and who was the one who shut herself away for a week, ignoring calls and clearly having a tantrum?” rory countered, pushing herself up and off the back of robin’s couch. 

the two were clustered inside robin’s tiny apartment. the smell of the dinner they had forgotten about in the midst of getting ready lingered around the room, the dishes sat piled in the kitchen sink. 

robin ran her hands over her skirt, picking at a loose thread and tugging on it. it was a nervous habit ingrained into her from as long as she could remember, and she often didn’t notice the fidgeting anymore. 

“i just- i can’t do this thing if he won’t cooperate with me. i don’t wanna do it any more than he does- why was he so rude?” robin sighed, adjusting the pendant on her necklace while her friend paced the small room. 

“he’ll warm up to you, and you’ll warm up to him. i don’t know, maybe you’ll even enjoy this.” 

robin scoffed, “please, as if i’ll ever enjoy this, or even like him, for that matter.”, and turned on her heel to give herself the final once-over in the mirror. 

it’ll do, she thought to herself, noting her glum and reluctant face. 

••• 

as she stepped out of the car, robin hissed. 

almost in response to the sight before her, the pounding in her head increased until it was all she could stand to think about. 

jake and his two brothers stood outside of the bar, wearing matching faces of trepidation. the building practically bounced with energy, a party raging from within which robin would rather miss out on. bright flashes of light made her wince, but the look in jake’s eyes was what made her feel like throwing up. 

he was glaring with such an ugly scowl she wondered how he could ever resemble that startlingly beautiful man in the document she looked over weeks ago. she felt the sudden need to hide- to scurry away and take cover from that dark, dangerous glint in his eyes. 

the quiet, unfamiliar greetings between a group of people who did not yet know each other or know how to approach the situation at hand were exchanged. she smiled an awkward, pained smile to josh and sam, and very pointedly avoided looking at jake altogether. she muttered a mere ‘hello’ to him from the corner of her mouth, clasping her hands together across her abdomen. 

rory cleared her throat when all three boys make their way towards the door. robin hadn’t even noticed her friend slink out of the car behind her, and quickly melted into a less tense version of herself at the feeling of a soft hand pressed into her back. 

“i just need to speak to robbie and jake, alone.”

“don’t call me that in front of them.” robin interjected with a hurried whisper, feeling her cheeks heat up. 

josh and sam stiffen, casting nervous glances in jake’s direction. they clearly had no idea how to react or behave what with the strange circumstances of robin’s presence, nor how to treat jake with his stormy mood. josh seemed the most reluctant to move. his brow set into a defiant furrow and his shoulder bumped  jake’s, just barely putting himself in front of his twin brother. 

rory waved the men off with a waggle of her fingers in their faces and a firm but still teasing, “you two run along now.”  

sam took her send-off with an amused roll of his eyes and stepped towards the door, but josh lingered. he gave jake a hard look in which something not a single person alive could ever work out for themselves transpired, a silent conversation punctuated only by the most minuscule of twitches in their eyebrows and gentle shrugs of their shoulders. whatever they had communicated seemed to satisfy josh, and he stalked off into the bar- though not without a sly, accusing look shot towards robin. 

there’s a momentary pause, where the awkward tension between jake and robin was so present and so violently there it should be screaming and jumping up and down- it made her throat feel tight. she refused to look at him, and he refused to look away. 

“okay. both of you, eyes on me. i know neither of you want to do this, but unfortunately you both agreed to it. that means you listen to me, and i’m telling you the rules for tonight.” rory clapped her hands together, and used a voice not too dissimilar to that of a preschool teacher dealing with sulking, petulant children. 

they both hummed in lieu of a verbal response, scuffing their feet along the floor, shoving clenched fists into pockets. rory sighed, shaking her long blonde hair out of her face before steeling herself and carrying on. 

“neither of you is to be without the other tonight, okay? this is a big press event, and as the supportive guy coming out to celebrate your friend’s album release, jake, you will need to take every photo opportunity presented to you.

that means the both of you acting like a couple- a real one, who stand near each other and everything. make sense?” 

again, neither of them elected to give a proper reply, simply nodding their heads, while simultaneously feeling icy-cold dread leech through from their stomachs to their throats. 

“now, i need you both to stop glaring at me and hold hands as you walk in together.” rory flapped her hands towards their bodies, urging them to step closer to one another. 

“go on, get within three feet of each other, i dare you.” she was poking fun at them now, a mischievous glint in her eyes and a smile she barely bit back dazzling her face. 

“i know you can do it- there we go! now, take her hand- yep- no- robbie, stop getting all stiff. stop being a baby and hold his hand!”

robin had never focused more energy into a facial expression than she did in that moment. she miserably wished she had the supernatural capabilities to make a person vanish into thin air, and hoped, maybe if she put enough venom behind her glare, it would become possible for her to cause such a thing. 

“stop calling me robbie.” she hissed through her teeth, so distracted with interrupting rory’s fun that she lost all sense of her surroundings. 

feeling jake gingerly grasp her hand in his sent a shockwave through her body, and she felt a very strong urge to pull away from him. his fingers pressed into her skin, as if to cement her to him, while his eyes flashed with an unfamiliar emotion. any emotion belonging to jake would be unknown and uncharted territory for robin, she mused- how could she know what the quirk of an eyebrow, or the twitch of a nose meant for a total and complete stranger? she couldn’t read him, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. 

she faltered for the briefest of moments underneath his touch, still gently trying to pull away without much conviction. there wasn’t much either of them could do, so she probably shouldn’t try to fight it. anyhow, robin had a sneaking suspicion if she tried anything close to an escape, rory would hunt her down with the tenacity and determination of a bloodhound. 

“well done, you guys! you won’t get a gold star but you can drink in there, so get your asses inside. bye, bye.” rory’s sarcasm almost distracted robin, interrupting her rolling eyes to flash a panicked look back at her friend. 

“wait, you aren’t coming in with us?” robin asked, feeling jake tug on her hand and lead her towards the door. 

“no, no- you’ll be fine! just play nice.” 

“wait- rory, no.” she protested, trying and failing to resist jake’s much stronger hold on her hand. 

it was too late. the door closed behind robin, and she watched her friend, her only solace in this entirely terrifying situation, walk away from the sidewalk. she let out a quiet moan of displeasure, feeling her face crumble as her headache worsens. 

somehow, they find josh and sam. the crowd of people is so massive she feels as though she can hardly breathe, and almost felt compelled to clutch tightly onto jake’s rough hand. his grip on her had slipped in the time it took them to walk through the building, until she was just holding onto his thumb and trying hard not to let him shake her off- she was almost certain that was what he was trying to do, but she wasn’t going to let him do that so easily. 

“you made it- did you get busted by her assistant?” sam joked, pushing a pint glass filled with beer towards jake’s free hand. 

the brothers make idle chatter, waving to people they recognised, sipping their drinks. they seemed comfortable here- there was no halt in their breaths, no reservations in their eyes. the only moments she saw them falter was when their eyes would sweep over her face, as if they had temporarily forgotten her sequestered to the side of the table. 

someone approaches the table, and the three men suddenly stand a little taller. smiles plaster their faces, while they quickly abandon their drinks to take the new man into fast hugs. jake is the only one who doesn’t move- still connected to you by his thumb, he merely lifts his free hand in a friendly wave.

“and who is this, jake?” the man asks, and her chest feels tight again. 

jake swallows thickly, scanning over her and darting his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. 

“this is my- uhm, this is- she’s my…”

he can’t seem to get the words out. he mumbles, clearing his throat continuously, while fumbling with the hem of his shirt. a nervous habit, she supposed. 

“…i’m his girlfriend, robin.” 

 she wasn’t sure why, but to actually speak those words out loud, to actively lie to someone none the wiser, left a hollow feeling in her chest. she felt guilty when the man lifted his eyebrows in a knowing fashion, and even more guilty when the man clapped jake on the back and told him he’d chosen well. 

jake seemed to think it smart to really sell the image of them being a couple, quickly stepping close to her and resting a hand on her waist. neither one of them knew how to respond to the contact and moved stiffly, as if they weren’t quite programmed for that type of thing. she tried to manoeuvre her body closer to his and stood on his foot as she did so- jake tried to wrap his hand around to rest on her stomach, and she tried her hardest to pretend it felt normal. 

they both smiled fake smiles until the man left, still frozen in this strange, uncomfortable position with his chest pressed against her back, and her hand gripping his wrist. to an outsider, it would look like an affectionate gesture, but she was simply waiting for an opportunity to rip his hand away from her body. 

“don’t touch my stomach.” she spat, freeing herself from his arms and grabbing the table to steady her suddenly dizzy head. 

“try not to stand on my toes again, ok?” he sneered back. 

“i’m- uhm, i’ll go get a drink.” she speaks after a tense pause, nodding her head at the empty spot on the table just in front of her. 

“we didn’t know what you’d want, so you’ll have to go and buy your own.” josh muttered to her, giving her a cold, uninviting look. 

robin nodded and let go of her tight grip on the edge of the table, breathing a quiet sigh of relief to get away from jake- he was stood so close to her that their shoulders would bump every time either one of them moved, and it made her feel sick. she scurried off to the bar, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip at the thought of drinking alcohol, or being drunk in any capacity while surrounded by such a tense atmosphere. she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of jake’s judgemental eyes, nor did she want to say the wrong thing and give any of the boys ammo to pounce on her, as josh seemed to be waiting for a reason to do so. 

she orders a coke, choosing the safest option she could think of, before finding herself paralysed. the front door of the bar looked so tempting, so easy to walk through and slip away from this uncomfortable situation- she could just run away, escape the tension and sleep off the headache she was sporting. 

her eyes flick over to jake, and he’s already staring at her. he cocks his head to the side and shakes it, as if he knew exactly what she was considering. she purses her lips and tries to ignore jake waving her back over with an inclined chin. 

clearly, she takes far too long, because soon she isn’t alone. jake stomps over to her, puffing an angry breath and getting far too close to her. 

“we’re taking a photo, you need to be in it.” he huffed. 

“no.” she says stubbornly, firmly decided that she was not doing anything he told her to, rory’s fury be damned. 

“listen- i don’t want to either, but you have to, we have to.” 

“no.” she repeats, quirking an eyebrow. 

jake sighs loudly, looking off to the side and shooting a smile at someone she didn’t recognise. when he looks back at her, his face melted into something she could only call an attempt at a smile- his lips twisted, and his eyebrows smoothed out, but his eyes stayed the same. hard, dark and angry. 

 “these are my friends, you can’t embarrass me in front of them, robin-”

“-oh, so you do know my name?” she interrupts, laughing humourlessly. 

“shut the fuck up. i don’t like lying to everyone, but i have to, and you’re making it really fucking hard to pretend i can even stand to be near you.” 

“fine, i’ll leave.” 

“i’m not supposed to be seen without you.” he takes a step forward, blocking her body from the front door she was so desperate to run through. 

“i don’t care, in all honesty.” 

she makes a step past his body, towards the door, but he has other plans. his hand darts out and wraps around her bicep, squeezing so tightly her fingers tingle. she makes a small noise of effort as she attempts to slip out from his grasp, and he quickly pushes them both back into the bar. 

“don’t embarrass me, robin. play nice.” he mutters, casting an eye out to the people around them. how they didn’t notice this tussle going on, she didn’t know.

he grabs her drink from behind her and takes a sip, ignoring robin’s frustrated grunts. he makes a face, looking down at the glass before back at her face. 

“you aren’t even drinking alcohol? buzzkill.” he scoffs, and she rolls her eyes so hard her head throbs again. 

jake uses his grip on her arm to tug her away from the bar and back through the room, wrapping his free arm, still clutching her glass, around her waist and pulling her flush to his side. 

“now, stop being a little bitch and smile.” he whispers against the shell of her ear, as they approach the table. 

she forces her face into what she hoped was a contented smile, pressing her cheek against jake’s in a move far too familiar and close to a man who had just angered her to the point of wishing she had those same supernatural abilities as before to explode him into nothingness. if she could only just squint and use powers to make him cry, or feel any sort of discomfort- anything close to how she felt in this moment. 

oh, how she wished it was possible. 

[artidoesthings]

AHA! Reblogging this automatically gets an ask from me, yo! Even if we're strangers, bwahahhaha!

⤴, 💬, 🗺, ☕, ✉, 🖋

Weeee! I love reading everyone's answers!

heheh heck yeah! This is such a cool little Al’s game, so;

Who are the characters do you think you can achieve A+ or S-level support ending?

hoo boy uh, that’s a good question! Not really sure about S supports, but pretty much any character? Except certain examples like Lorenz or Sylvain where they’re just. :| on introduction. Sorry but that is not going past B. Kinda hard to be particular about this tho cuz I like all of the characters,,

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Byleth has to attain certain proficiencies to poach students to their house. But what more could they have also done if they want to convince you to join them?

having a character in their house who I’d have a support with, for one. Or just do that one cooking with others activity with me a ton. In terms of more interesting recruitment, at least?

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What will your paralogue be about? If you're sharing it with someone else, who will that be?

ooh, hm. That’s tough. Can’t say I have any ideas for that- sorry!

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What tea should Byleth get for your teatime?

hot chocolate (/hj)

real answer: the sweet apple blend probably.

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What "anonymous" question will you drop in the monastery's secret ask box for Byleth to answer?

assuming I wouldn’t have a crest. Probably thoughts on whether or not it’s okay to talk to. I don’t know, literal nobility. Or if it’s ok to struggle with fighting. Especially after the war phase

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if unpaired, what will your ending in FE3H be?

Depends on the route! In Verdant Wind, I’d research the Agarthan’s tech, if there’s anything left of it. As well as wondering what other hidden history Fódlan has. In Azure Moon.,, honestly I don’t know. And I haven’t played Crimson Flower yet