#And another anvil war??

[rosegoldenatlas]

SATURDAY

just wants to let all the people who haven't seen it / haven't found out yet. Hermitcraft season ten on Saturday.

On that note Doc has been playing a lot recently so now we get tweet like so

[sophia-sol]

Every year at about this time (...very approximately) I post a reclist of 10 short stories I particularly enjoyed reading in the last year, all of which can be read online for free. Here's the latest list, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

1. Sestu Hunts the Last Deer in Heaven - MH Cheung Beautiful and odd. A story of what happens after you've killed the gods, the unexpected realities and the things you have to live with. I love stories about after the climactic things traditional fantasy narratives are about, and this one excels!

2. If You Find Yourself Speaking to God, Address God with the Informal You - John Chu Two butch Asian weightlifter dudes bonding with each other and then dating, and one of them happens to have superpowers, but the superpowers aren't the focus. This is SO charming!!

3. Two Hands, Wrapped in Gold - SB Divya This is a really cool retelling of the classic fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin from the Rumpelstiltskin character's pov, building out the world and his background and making him a sympathetic character with a specific history. Haven't seen a fairy tale retelling quite like this before and it's great! And I say that as a connoisseur of fairy tale retellings.

4. A Farce to Suit the New Girl - Rebecca Fraimow A troupe of Jewish actors in Russia, in a time of political upheaval. This story has such a good and powerful feeling of activity and forward momentum, and of the way a community supports people even if things are weird or complicated! I love every single character and how firmly they are themselves.

5. Sheri, At This Very Moment - Bianca Sayan The sacrifices you make to spend time with the ones you love - a snapshot of one brief visit together, out of two lives that only rarely get to align. Made me teary the first time I read it!

6. Spirochete - Anneke Schwob An engaging second-person pov story about possession and identity. It has such a great sense of timing! And the last line GOT me even on second read when I hypothetically knew what was coming!

7. To Embody a Wildfire Starting - Iona Datt Sharma Ahhhhhh this story is so good at embodying the horrible complexities of the choices people make in the worst of situations, that good and bad and divine and evil and just plain personness can all reside in one being. Also it's about a dragon society and the revolutionary humans who tried to make everyone into dragons, and also about parent-child relationships, and also about a bunch of other things. God it's good.

8. Obsolesce - Nadine Aurora Tabing Is it really me if I don't have at least ONE story about robots in my rec lists? (actually I just went back and checked and in multiple previous years I inexplicably didn't, maybe it wasn't me writing the reclist in those years lol) ANYWAY who wants to have sad feelings about robots again! I know I always do! In a world where anyone who has a physical body instead of having their consciousness transferred is more and more obsolete, no matter if your body is human or robot, what do you hold onto? This one has a real good melancholy tone.

9. Letters from a Travelling Man - WJ Tattersdill ....does what it says on the tin. Letters to a dear friend, from a man travelling for the first time to the unfamiliar part of the world that friend comes from. I love the sense of place you get from the letters, as well as the deep and abiding importance of this friendship in both their lives. Another one I cried over!

10. Texts from the Ghost War - Alex Yuschik Another epistolary one, but this time in text messages instead of letters, and between characters who start the story antagonistically! About mech pilots in a ghost war, and making connections, and finding things to care about, even when stuff sucks. I love them!! (also, I am inescapably me, whoops, it took me until I read some fanfic of this story to realize that almost certainly the story was meant to be canonically shipping the two leads, I never notice romance unless there's anvil-sized indications.) Anyway this is a really good story!

[autophage]

The slow but incessant rain of anvils began in 1942.

George Macomber was walking from the trolley stop to his home in Great Falls (a name which many newspapers took advantage of in their lede selection) when a two-ton Bavarian fell out of the sky, landing squarely on top of poor George. He was Flattened instantly.

And, seconds later, he slid out from beneath the anvil, with a new height of one and a half millimeters. He had become, in an instant, the densest human being on the planet.

George Macomber happened to look up just before impact. This saved his life: because he was the first to ever be Flattened, the extremely-high-density intravenous fluid setup had not yet been invented, and no hospital could have kept him hydrated if his mouth were not accessible on his topside. (Iris Colelman invented the extremely-high-density intravenous setup in 1947, after hundreds had perished due to dehydration mere days after their Flattening.)

In another twist of good fortune, George Macomber had served as a signal officer in the Navy during the Great War and knew Morse code. While his vocal chords were capable only of producing an awful gurgling, he could still communicate by blinking - a trick that the doctors recognized quickly. And so he was able, painstakingly, to describe the characteristic sound of the anvil's descent: a terrifying descending whistle, like the slide-flute sound used for falling bombs in animated reels.

His story is not all a happy one, though. Some who are Flattened eventually pop back up to their former stature, but poor Mr. Macomber never did. While his medical condition remained stable, his wife divorced him and he had trouble finding employment. Seven years after his Flattening, he stopped eating or drinking. His final words, blinked to his nurse, are lost to history; she felt that she owed him her silence, even as she was fired and eventually prosecuted for letting him pass in this manner. The court asserted that she should have immobilized him and given him a high-density drip.

Only twenty-three days after George's Flattening, Irma Childress was returning from the bakery when a six-ton farrier's anvil hurtled down and Flattened her. She, too, was lucky enough that her mouth remained accessible. Her story is happier than George's - she was also the first person to pop back up to her normal height. It took her six months, and those must have been worse than George's, as she did not know Morse code - though she learned it and was proficient by her third Flattened month.

Even after regaining her former height, Irma remained wary of doors, stairs, and any place with high foot traffic. She sold her house in Los Angeles and moved out to an almond farm. She spoke to the press repeatedly and respectfully, and to this day is remembered as an early and passionate advocate for keeping the Flattened comfortable and helping them maintain their dignity.

Nobody has discovered where the anvils come from. They fall primarily in North America, most often in the southwest and midwest. Some suspect that they are flung by tornados, or some sort of awful prank, or military test flights. They are always of recent manufacture, indicated by a date stamp, but never a maker's mark.

The rate of Flattenings increased until the late 50's, at a peak of a bit over 100,000 in 1958. Today, the rain has slowed: there are usually between one and two thousand Flattenings a year. This incident rate has held steady since the early 1980's. This is unusual, since far fewer anvils are manufactured or used today than were in the 1940's. Of those Flattened, about half pop back to their previous height, usually between two months and a year after their initial Flattening.

It was difficult for the Flattened to connect with each other before modern video conferencing - those who were lucky enough to look up before their Flattening can see above themselves, but cannot see in front of themselves, and it is generally difficult for the Flattened to orient themselves otherwise. The Flattened of today generally stay on a table with a tablet above them, modified to use eye tracking for navigation. (Of course, this only really works with Flattened whose eyes are on their top- or bottom-sides; those with eyes facing forward, or whose faces were crushed into their bellies, can usually hear, but have a very hard time making themselves understood.) Regardless of orientation they are helped by dedicated care nurses who changes their IV fluids. These nurses are provided by Flattening insurance, offered by all major insurance providers; they often also take over some of the responsibilities the Flattened previously held, such as taking care of their children.

Sadly, the provisions surrounding Flattening insurance have changed in the last twenty years. Most nurses make less than 20% above minimum wage, and are afforded very little flexibility by the job, which requires them to attend the Flattened's household around the clock. They become very close with those they care for - in many cases they develop shorthands to make communication easier, such as diacritic modifications to the blinked Morse code.

While the Irma Childress Foundation is the leading voice for Flattening insurance reform, some long-term Flattened feel that their concerns are often not heard. They contend that the Foundation often bargains away provisions that could help some edge cases - especially those with limited communication capabilities.

Some of the Flattened have started pooling resources to buy land and build a city suited to their own needs, to wean themselves off of the marginal succor offered by the insurance system. We who stand tall must support them. We must afford them not only the dignity of doing our best not to step on them, but to self-determination. We must acknowledge that their lives are all unique and different. We must refuse, if you will pardon the pun, to flatten their experiences into one single narrative.

[tagedeszorns]

Another green guy.

Into the Fires of Battle, unto the Anvil of War!

I tried zenithal-ing (kind of. I primed him black and then drybrushed all the highlighting) and then contrast colours and this works surprisingly well! I love the gritty look and the visible wear and tear.

I was one of the lucky people who got this month's mini of the month and I'll paint the little Terminator in this style. And, of course, as Vulkan's son as well.

[lilimalia]

GHOST OF YOUR GRASP // zhongli

SYNOPSIS... freed from your encasement, the Liyue you once knew is no longer what it was. he is no exception to this... and yet your own body can't seem to blend with the time of change as well as your surroundings have. thoughts haunt you, had he ever really known you?

CHARACTERS... zhongli/morax , guizhong, streetward rambler, cloud retainer,

DISCLAIMERS... angst, no comfort, female reader, short series, spoilers for Guizhong's story + lantern rite, lunar new years special !

BARISTA'S INTEL... sorry to all the lumine travellers! and welcome to the part 1.5 of this [SS]. please enjoy!

TAGLIST... @neverlandlostchild , @yae-raidenmyloves , @rcronoa , @@inky-oni , @milkiemei , @angèle , @tanspostsblog , @maybemiko , @cherlynono , @@seyboo , @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos , @ittosoneandoniwife ,

CAFE TUNE... How Do I Say Goodbye // Dean Lewis ! Another Love // Tom Odell !

He remembers only the solemn smile that had interlaced your face the night before it happened. The night he grieved for not the loss of one, but two.

Sometimes he forgets your smile.

Guilt etches out his heart whenever he does. Guilt he knows he might never be able to seal shut. It seems even with the season of festivity he won't ever be able to leave you behind.

You would have been preparing him mooncakes by now... And Cloud Retainer would have been boisterously chatting about her mechanical inventions. And the sound of red bean would have been wafting into the air. Streetward Ramblers music humming it's own hypnotic melody in the background.

If only he had cherished that sweet smile of yours a little longer... Only now, he cannot remember it's details.

He regrets it, hiding away from you, sparing his time to Guizhong, and yet his heart aches for the comfort of both. Of both dust and forge.

"Morax, what is it that troubles you?"

"It is... Nothing of relevance Cloud Retainer."

"You have always been a distasteful liar Morax... Why do you believe Duànzào has always settled your gambles with that of war?"

Her name stings his heart, like blade to anvil.

"Where has she gone?... [Y/n] has left the plains for far too long. Are you certain they aren't in any trouble?"

"The Goddess of Forge is more than capable of defending herself Morax. Even you are aware of it are you not? She herself is quite the ample partner in battle." Cloud Retainer responds, nimble fingers pushing upward her glasses as she huffs towards the god.

"Ah, Morax! Cloud Retainer! Fancy seeing you here!! How do you fare?"

"Ah, hello dear Guizhong, we were merely discussing the absence of [Y/n], I am doing well. How are you?"

...Maybe that's when it started.

Cloud Retainer has always been talkative. But her eyes never fail to spot the details that entail her. The pain that stricken her eyes when she sees him.

She remembers the hot tears that you had shed every night. Tear's that stung her heart like the sparks of the forge. Reminiscing the pain that laced your face as you curled into her adeptal body. Fetal in her grasps as your tears stained her satin clothes. You look so... vulnerable.

She never could remember a time before that you were so wilted. Mental fortitude slowly crumbling in front of her eyes. And yet you still pretended as if it was nothing. As if it wasn't tearing you apart.

Cloud Retainer respects that of Guizhong. Her kindness and sweet child like shine. But she praises you, your ability to hold under such diminishing hope, cradling it like a newborn as you passed everyday stricken by envy.

She misses you.

Misses that genuine smile, the one that could light up any room. The one that would light the Xiao Lanterns that would decorate the skies of Liyue every festival.

Cloud Retainer has learned many years of vices to cope with that of immortality.

What she would give to bring back that smile.

"Duànzào! Please! Please consider this!" she remembers yelling. Watching as your clothes flailed wildly against the breeze of the mountains.

"Cloud Retainer... The age of war is upon us. You must understand, if I do not flee now. I will succumb to the darkness of greed..."

"Please! I beg of you!..."

“All that I ask of you... Please. Understand my reasons.”

She knows your crying. She see's those damned tears dripping down onto the grounds of the mountains. Watching as you gaze out towards the serene mountains of Liyue. Tips dancing with hues of orange as they molded against the touch of the wind.

"Running away from your fears solves nothing! Please, Duànzào reason with yourself!" She remembers crying out. Arms reaching out to grab your figure only to be pushed back gently.

"Morax is a lovely man... Please, for me, keep him safe in this forsaken time of war... It is all I ask for" your voice trembles. Tears uncontrollable sinking down, heart wallowing in pain.

All she ever asked for was for you too stay.

Stay for her. For Rex Lapis, for the sake of the Adepti.

She watches you leap forward, helpless to move. Body paralyzed against the strength of your Adepti force.

"Duànzào!"

But you were no longer there to hear her desperate cries.

"Where is she?! Where has she gone?!" Morax yells. Posture of elegancy forgotten completely.

"She's ran off... She left the plains of Liyue. And that of Liyue whole." He remembers Cloud Retainer saying.

The memory is painfully sharp against his mind. The memory of your departure. The one he had failed to forsee.

The time of the Archon War was unbearable. He remembers being tormented by the dreams of your face. How lonely you must have felt to have left him. But why hadn't you come to him?... He would have grasped you in his arms, cradled you away from the horrors of the world.

He would have done everything in his power to make sure you felt safe.

"[Y/n]... Please, if you are out there listening. Come back to my side..."

They had both failed to say goodbye.

SPECIAL BREWS... Duànzào // the chinese translation for forgery

Morax's armor // the armour that Morax wore during the time of war was specially forged by [Y/n] as a gift for their 100 year friendship

Banner // [Y/n's] memory of Zhongli was constantly replayed during her time in her Adeptal "jail", it hurt her to keep seeing him so much that she used her own power’s to blur out his face. Hence why the banner is glitched out

Cloud Retainer // [Y/n] confided with Cloud Retainer her darkest secrets, but her love for Zhongli was hidden away from Cloud Retainer in fear of being deemed lowly, it's one of the reasons Cloud Retainer regretted your disappearance so much

BARISTA'S INQUIREMENT... This was really hard for me to write... I feel like I didn't do as well this time around. I'd love your feedback!

word count. 801

Tag list form !

Previous // Next

©-FUTURIST... Please do not plagiarize, themes are edited by me, reblogs allowed, do not repost on any other platform!!

Banner credits: @veauwa

[commsroom]

an underrated aspect of eiffel and lovelace's dynamic is that she is the one person who can speak his language, she's just not happy about it. "we're bootlegging the opening band to figure out what kind of anvil the headliner is going to drop on our heads." / "oh! why didn't you just say that?" or saying "there is no try" to him in the live show, or trying to explain her time loop predicament with the one pop culture reference he doesn't actually get, etc.

lovelace is also a pretty quippy and pop culture savvy person, and, unlike hera and minkowski, lovelace has definitely seen star wars. she has referenced star wars. there had to have been a moment where eiffel realized he was finally, after so long, occupying the same space as another person who has seen star wars. this absolutely does not mean eiffel can talk to lovelace about star wars, but you know he tried.

[gortashs-skidmark]

GORTASH HEADCANONS and CANON Facts

MATURE CONTENT WARNING, 18+ MDNI, SMUT FOREWARNING - (Grammar mistakes, not proof read) CONTENT WARNING: enslavement mentions, death mentioned, religious themes, war, assassinations, spoiler warning for act 3, anarchy, plotting, yadda yadda evil,

-

Canon first, to make precision based Headcanons second.

-

ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ𐌓𐌕𐌀𐌔𐋅ᏵꝊ

-

Info Source: Forgotten Realms Wiki, Forgotten Realms Wiki, World Anvil, World Anvil, Fast Change, r/DnD, Forgotten Realms Wiki, World Anvil, dungeonsanddragonsfans

-

Utilizes 4e and 5e Manuals.

CANON

Wyrm’s Rock Geography and History

𝔊 An "Island-fortress located in the city of Baldur's Gate, that served as one of the headquarters of the Flaming Fist military. It was located on an isle in the middle of the River Chionthar, at the center of Wyrm's Crossing."

𝔊 Smooth, warn granite built Wyrm's Rock, with 1ft thick and constantly wet from the river.

𝔊 The interiors of Wyrm's Rock includes offices and chambers for toll-gatherers and guards, keep's armory stocked to the nines, the top floor serving living-quarters for serving officers and mercenaries.

𝔊 It can hold up to 100 Flaming Fist, but usually only houses 25-50

𝔊 Below Wyrm's Rock is the damp cold dungeons, but it's not used regularly, only for emergencies. It's mostly used as storage, holding canoes and such.

𝔊 The current uses for Wyrm's Rock, are as a safety precaution from the Chionthar's rapids and a toll booth, 5 copper pieces, for travelers along the Trade Way.

𝔊 It's a well guarded fortress, with projectiles, barrels of oil, armor, and hand held weapons.

𝔊 Ansur, a Bronze Lawful Good dragon, "The Heart of the Gate" slumbers beneath Wyrm's Rock.

-

Lower/Outer City

𝔊 It is a dangerous "near lawless" piece of Baldur's Gate. Very impoverished with three enterances; Basilisks Gate, Black Dragon, and Cliffgate

𝔊 The buildings scattered along the city are unorganized and unstable.

𝔊 "Due to the high standards of cleanliness that the Baldurian patriar, the city maintained a strict law that prohibited anything larger than a peacock from entering the city's gates. All the stables, livestock pens and abattoirs were consigned to a location within the Outer City. As such, flocks of sheep, goats, cattle and all manner of fowl were kept in enclosures or left to roam around unchecked. While nary a single dog could be found in the lower city, packs of strays were not at all uncommon in the Outer City."

𝔊 It's noisy and dirty and overwhelming for new comers through the gate.

𝔊 The Flaming Fist and The Watch often turn a blind-eye to petty crime like pickpocketing.

𝔊 The Flaming Fist are often bought out, and their behavior sways with the political alignment and leadership world views.

𝔊 There's so much to write about! check this page for all of the vast shops around the Lower City, and the lore behind them. I don't think many of them are relevant so I won't indulge it.

-

Humans in DND lore

𝔊 Humans are very diverse, and the youngest living out of the races. They often have a tad of tainted. blood, whether orc or elf or another.

𝔊 They are the most adaptable opportunists and ambitious race. Their culture, gods, customs, morals, all range heavily. They typically stick to one city and stay for as long as possible.

𝔊 Unlike humans themselves, cities and kingdoms with traditions and origins that stick around for centuries. Human names are often regional reflections. If they're given an elven or other name with racial origins, it's usually pronounced wrong.

𝔊 Humans live in the present and make greater adventurers because of it. They're better read about current political change and social dynamics.

𝔊 Humans mingle with anyone, usually able to get on anyones good terms because of their conventional image. In human built societies, generally, they're inclusive. Not always the case. In other racial origin societies, it can be harder for humans to fit in.

𝔊 Because of their short life span, immortality is an escape that's only dreamt of. They seek to leave a mark on history themselves instead of longevity.

𝔊 Humans are categorized by appearance because of region and ancestory. They fall into 9 categories, which I won't be listing. You can find info here, but don't go crazy.

-

Baldur’s Political Systems and important Dark Urge History

𝔊 The Half Way to Everywhere, Baldur's Gate, largest metropolitan City-State in the Western Heartlands. Protected by The Flaming Fist (mercenary company) and The Watch Citadel (upper city). Showered in abundance of rain weather, and a complex and efficient aquaduct system. This city is described as The City of Blood with it's large waves of crime, primarily because of its acceptances towards anyone, including thieves.

𝔊 The city is apart of the Lords' Alliance of powers in the west, and ruled by the Council of Four (4 Grand Dukes) who attended the Lords' Alliance in representation of their City-State.

𝔊 There's a strange energy about Baldur's Gate. People, no matter the state of the world, often kept to their own business. They didn't have too many customs, but a few festivals. One notable past-time were cobble parties, folks gathering boxes and crate for seating and sharing stories, lit with special "red rose" torches from firework shops.

𝔊 Religion in Baldur's Gate was vast in variety. Depending on the hotspots of culture, you could find god and goddess worshippers of any kind. Twin Song's, a temple district in Baldur's Gate in the Outer City, were very religiously tolerant, even of Bhaal and Bane worshippers.

𝔊 To favor the land, Umberlee, Tymora, and Gond were prominent gods that were worshipped.

𝔊 After a coup by a previous Grand Duke Valarkan, the city's government changed to a Baldurian Parliament of elected Dukes. After 1479, it changes back to the Council of Four, accompanied by the Parliament of Peers.

𝔊 The Parliament of Peers were an Advisory Council. 50 representatives spread over the entirety of Baldur's Gate, as a legislative body. They would submit recommendations to the Council of Four.

𝔊 The Council of Four were served by 5 deputies, City Officials. Harbor Master, High Constable and Master of Walls, Master of Drains and Underways, Master of Cobbles, and Purse Master.

𝔊 They would hold sessions in the High Hall, open to observers. most days. They held assembly days every afternoon, with non-mandatory attendance, often 20-30 council members in the hall at a time. Some days were mandatory, depending on the topic.

𝔊 A large number of parliament members were bought-out and under influence by The Guild leader Nine-Fingers Keene.

𝔊 It was made up of retired adventurers and guild leaders. 12 representatives of the Lower City, and the remaining were Nobles representing the Upper City, known as Patriars.

𝔊 A list of Patriars. Including Oberon, who you can find dead on Wyrm's Rock. A Noble family who owned many of the dry-docks in Grey Harbour.

𝔊 "In the Year of Three Ships Sailing, 1492 DR, Baldur's Gate became plagued by a series of murders and disappearances. The members of the Flaming Fist showed little interest in addressing the incidents, but after the patriar families of Caldwell, Oberon, and Linnacher became affected, the pressure from Flaming Fist demanding investigations from their superiors started to increase" - Forgotten Realms Wiki

𝔊 In 1479, Baldur's Gate had mended their relationship with Elturguard. Though, expansions the Gate had been making, re-threatened Elturian's and were on the verge of civil war.

𝔊 In 1482, Grand Duke Abdel Adrian, a good-conquered Bhaaspawn, was attacked by a man named Viekang, the only other remaining Bhaalspawn. Though the duel ended in both men dying, one turning into The Slayer form. Both were Bhaalspawn, one was the victor though not knowing who was who. The Slayer form was returned to Bhaal after this event.

𝔊 Durge, with how their timeline works, has to be over 33 years old. Duke Abdel was 120 and had already separated themselves from Bhaal's influence. Do with that info you will. Back to your regularly scheduled Baldurian murder.

𝔊 His death was blamed on The Guild and adventurers were hired to investigate the murder. An increase in crime caused The Fist to crack down on the Lower City and shadier outer districts.

𝔊 The efforts of the Fist and the Watch, assumed by Grand Duke Ulder Ravenguard, didn't last and erupted in chaos. Strikes happened amongst city-workers and the Upper City was given a mid-afternoon curfew. The merchant class of the Lower City became unruly. Arson and crime sky-rocketed. Baldur's Mouth shut down, and the Fist's new leader instituted a series of illegal tribunals.

𝔊 Grand Duke Torlin Silvershield's stock-piled smoke power over parliament to stop the Guild's influence on the corrupt Baldurian Parliment. He revealed himself to be the "the Chosen of the re-ascended god of murder, Bhaal" before he was killed.

-

Gortash leans towards Steampunk, does technology exist? What are Constructs?

𝔊 There are different playable levels of tech you can play in a Campaign. I'm not sure where BG3 lies, but my guess is Steel Age, as it is possible to forge steel and infernal iron.

𝔊 Steel Age: fits most campaign settings (including Forgotten Realms, Greyhawk, Ebberon, etc.) and some experts know how to use adamantine and mithril.

𝔊 Within the canon lore that leads up in Dark Urge Origin, it should be the Steel Age. The Zhentarim, 1480's, create steel forged from Dragons in the Cult of the Dragons campaign, which has some capable lead up to Blood in Baldur's Gate (might be canon??) and then the 1492 BG3 game.

𝔊 Infernal Iron, weapons forged from this iron will smite souls and direct them into the River Styx. It can create soul-powered machines and vehicles. It creates Soul Coins, common currency in the Nine Hells. It is mined in the 8th (Cania) and 2nd (Dis) layers of Hell

𝔊 Constructs are creatures made up of inorganic materials. They are non-intelligent automatons, most are anyway.

𝔊 Living Constructs, however, combine elements of in-organic animation and living creatures. They possess free will and sentient thoughts, through complex and potent magic.

𝔊 Living Constructs can get better, and develop skills, they have vitality that doesn't depend on their size. Which means they are capable of being affected by spells and the living. They can wither mentally and physically be harmed in fights. They can be affected by necromancy.

𝔊 Living Constructs are capable of running, be affected with certain healing spell, can take certain potions, but do not require eating and drinking, be affected with mind-altering magic, most are immune to nausea, poison, sleep, fatigue, and paralysis.

-

What are Artificiers?

𝔊 They are inventors, engineer, and tinkerers of brilliance, they see magic as a complex system that's meant to be "de-coded" which makes them slower in spell progression.

𝔊 They use a number of items and systems to channel arcane magic, such as alchemy supplies for potent elixirs, calligrapher supplies to inscribe sigils, or tools to craft a temporary charm.

𝔊 They are particular in their crafts and hone it to their own character to produce the perfect product for the job.

𝔊 They often appear more steampunk than medieval like their compatriots. They are capable of using firearms and explosives

-

Who is The Tyrant God Bane?

𝔊 "Bane was the Faeruniangod of tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism. From his dread plane of Banehold, The Black Hand acted indirectly through worshipers and other agents to achieve his ultimate plan to achieve total domination of all Faerûn" - Forgotten Realm's Wiki

𝔊 He was the principal of ambition and control. He believes the strong have a right and a duty to rule over the weal.

𝔊 He favors individuals with drive, courage, and promoted slavery to powerful individuals.

𝔊 He worked closely with other if they interested him, unlike most gods. He worked with Myrukel, long when they were both mortal and beyond. He also worked with Loviatar (his servant at one point), Talona, and Mask.

𝔊 He was once lovers with Kiputytto, the demigoddess of Disease, and Loviatar's sister. Later slain by Talona.

𝔊 Bane has had servants such as his own son Iyachtu Xvim, during his first life. At other times of his god life, Abbathor, Maglubiyet (popular goblin god), Hrugget, and Tiamat.

𝔊 Bane's biggest and most hateful foe was Mystra. He hated Cyric too, who stole many of his followers, the Zhentarim or Black Network. He was hated by others but those are some relevant ones.

𝔊 Bane's Church was ruthless, though very stable. It was as disciplined as Shar's or Cyric's. Banite customs were often spartan-ish and followed a heirarchy. There are no Banite holidays and showed their gratitude through rituals. Including sacrifice and torture of sentient beings that were deemed "offensive"

𝔊 Priests of Bane prayed at midnight, for their spells. Disloyalty resulted in death.

𝔊 When Bane was mortal, he allied with mortal Bhaal and Myrukel. They targeted Jergal. They could slice through any obstacal, sometimes set up by Jergal. Jergal was tired of his title and gave it them, including his dagger given to Bane. The God of Death Jergal tricked one another to turn on each other. He divided his power in a game of Knucklebones, which Bane won and gained governance over the sphere of strife. Then Myurkel, then Bhaal who ate murder scraps. Ultimately Jergal had the Goddess of Luck decide.

-

How does the Church of Bane shape its worshippers? im just gonna quote one source bc it's straightforward man.

𝔊 Bane's church believes in subserviences and submission within a hierarchy, junior members bowing, kneeling, and even kissing boots if they were low enough in rank. Superior members were to be obeyed at all times. The church rules were of utmost importance, order and laws from any other land means nothing.

𝔊 "According to his priests, Bane was to be feared by his faithful and even more feared by the unfaithful. It was the duty of every member of the church of Bane to "spread (his) fear""

𝔊 "Banite priests took great pride in their ability to control their actions and avoid succumbing to emotional outbursts. Their outward demeanor was cold and thoughtful, they thought carefully before they spoke, often preferring sarcasm and "witty banter" rather than overt hostility." - Forgotten Realms Wiki

𝔊 "The overarching goal of Bane's clergy was the charge of seizing or manipulating their way into power in every nation, city-state or freehold in all of Faerûn, to bring them under his influence. Using emotionally manipulative tools such as fear, hatred or greed to sow conflict, war and chaos would allow the Black Hand to maintain control over lands too distressed to maintain stability. To this end, priests and followers were encouraged to commit acts such as torture, political infiltration or inciting mayhem with subtlety, cruelty and overall, fear."

𝔊 Rituals; "They were held either outdoors at night, or in a space of darkness, such as darkened chambers, caves or ruins with only dim lighting." [...] "Services included rhythmic chanting, the rolling beating of drums and the sacrifice of an intelligent creature's life. To prepare for this life to be given to Bane, the oblatory life was to be demeaned and tortured until they showed him due fear."

-

𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊

HEADCANONS (mixed nfsw)

𝔊 He's a mad scientist, lacks good aligned morality, he's far gone. It makes him an amazing artificier.

𝔊 Larian Studios, what is that? What is this laziness? (I was looking into Chiondathans bc I've never heard of the 9 regional categories)

𝔊 Hearing Gortash vomit would be more attractive than hearing his previous last name of "Flymm" in full. I just wanna put that in.

How old is Enver Gortash?

𝔊 I liked this deep-dive by @victorgrwrites and I won't waste time explaining and here

𝔊 So like 33. I think he's 33. Also here’s a bg3 timeline bc yall seem to struggle

anyway

𝔊 I like that durge potentially gets with Astarion. Bane favors animals like bats and black green eyed cats. and durge catches themselves a vampire that can turn into a bat (if ascended). That would 'bout piss Gortash off.

𝔊 Gortash really gets some points from Bane bc he got the Zhentarim's favor again through infernal iron weapons trading. They favor Bane over Cyric again. Gortash was #1 in Bane's eyes.

𝔊 I think he gets hard when he gets exceptional praise. Not like "good boy" like "you're everything the world ever needed, my merciful god" kinda praise. Like calling his brain is magnificent for coming up with that plan all by himself (if you're tav) gets him goin'

𝔊 He does not attend a lot of the parliament meetings, when he does it's for very specific problems in Baldur's Gate, anyone who caught on would probably "disappear"

𝔊 He's busy, either tinkering, meetings, or in worship. I think he leads Bane's church, but not publicly, through Banite priests because he can't be discovered about his religion as a political leader.

𝔊 He uses tones in his voice, you hear it all day, he only makes talk to flatter, mock, or threaten politely, but he knows how to use a very soft, very sweet voice that makes you give into anything he asks for.

𝔊 His broad shoulders and warm hands are never sincere. You felt like you've never been given a sincere hug from him, as comforting as they can be in the moment. He'd have to give up his way of life and cry on his knees in front of you before you could believe he was ever sincere about certain affections.

𝔊 If you could polymorph into an animal, he's either think it's disgusting or wanna fuck it.

𝔊 His Steel Watch, you just can't tell me not to be stunned, are half way between living and non-sentient constructs. They have a brain that operates, they can see what they're doing, and yet they have no control over their body. Gortash didn't need to give them brains to make automatons that do anything at his will, it's pure slavery and torture.

𝔊 If you’re childhood friends, 7 or 8 years old, you’d drag him in the late of night to those Cobble parties and sit among the adults in the dim red torch light listening to the adults talk. You’d drop him off at home, you did have a way of worrying for his safety with his parents. He was a stubborn devil as a child but you were too happy and care free to leave him be.

𝔊 He did not carry those cobbler genes, have you seen his fuggo ass shoes?? He can tinker like no one else but his sense of style is messy and new-money.

𝔊

Why is Gortash Evil?

𝔊 His parents fucking sold him for being "needy and troublesome" like MOST KIDS ARE. If I got sold to a Warlock, that turned out to be THE SON OF MEPHISTOPHELES. I'd be fucking evil too.

𝔊 Just as he was needy and troublesome when he lived with his parents, he reverts to a smaller husk of himself with a trusted lover. Needy, malevolent, confident in his strides, it’s his way or the highway, but he will listen to you quietly. You are an equal but he’s relentless as a person. Pester, pester, pester. Sometimes you feeling like you’re mothering him.

𝔊 He's probably pretty high up in the Church of Bane. People kiss his feet, he shows amazing restraint in emotion, politically is advantageous for Bane, he's a slaver like Bane teaches is okay to do, he trades arms and is super fucking popular for it.

𝔊 He showed great restraint with the Dark Urge, I think he loved being allies with them because he didn't have to stray far from Bane at all for Durge to adore him. I don't think he could've loved and he would've abandoned Durge in a heartbeat unlike vice-versa.

𝔊 I think Enver hums deep and beautifully from his years of chanting in Bane's name. He has a deep focused look on his face, and he deeply hums a melody he heard at a party last night, dancing and wooing patriars left and right on the ballroom floor.

𝔊 𝔊 𝔊

𝔊 Undoing his evil is near-damn impossible. He loves attention, he needs it. He needs praise his his god. He worked so hard for everything in life and you can’t take it away.

𝔊 If you can convince him to give up, fucking unlikely, before the Nether Brain fight, he’ll live. He might suffer Bane’s wrath and kill him and Jergal would not be super happy reviving him after your pleas. Karlach would hate you. So would Wyll

𝔊 Threatening his enteral consequence of death, tending to flowers forever in Avernus after he dies, or, he fixes Karlach so she doesn’t need to go back to Avernus.

𝔊 She wouldn’t trust him and she’d say she’d rather be dead before trusting him again. And you have to convince both of them to be better. Well. Just Gortash. Karlach can do whatever her sweet heart desires.

𝔊 He is irredeemable, he's lead the Church of Bane since he was 17, he's pretty much licked Bane's asshole at this point. It's hard to get to know him. He's probably a grumpy, sad, regretful little guy under his immaculate persona.

𝔊 You can start reconnecting him to Baldur's Gate, with Cobble Parties, you both go and hold hands and listen to stories. He doesn't want to listen to the groveling, sober at least. He is reserved and needs to make friends, but in his own times.

𝔊 His parents would never take him back and accept him, they made him and didn't help him, or work with him as a child an they handed him over to a Cambion. They still recall so much hatred when he lived there.

𝔊 He probably loved explosives as a child, and got in trouble for setting them off in the house. He would tinker, wander off, and read books and play by himself, smart reserved kind of kid. Which worried and frustrated his parents, he wasn't cobbler material.

𝔊 Children are difficult but you can't forgive their negligence. They threw him out at the first chance probably. You hold a grudge against his parents. You're vocal about it with comments, when they see him after the whole ordeal. He's supposed to make progress and they're gonna make him writhe in every mental way like he did before.

𝔊 You make sure to create good memories, even in the Lower City, those cobble parties, little firework shows off the grey harbors docks by the foundries ashes, he never got to celebrate Baldur's Gate's customs like Highharvestide even tho it's not as popular, Returning Day to where you talk about the Murder in the Wide. you want to include him in everything,

𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊𝔊

Hey guys! if you got this far, yay! but also i'm not done writing it. come back to my page and find it on my master list when it's finished to enjoy more!

I’ll continue writing as I think of more headcanons.

[thoughtportal]

Mother's Day in the US was started as a protest against war by Julia Ward Howe. What the holiday has become is a remarkable example how the establishment neutralizes protest by co-opting and sanitizing it.

Julia Ward Howe's 1870 Mother's Day Proclamation:

“Arise then, women of this day! Arise, all women who have hearts, whether your baptism be of water or tears! “Say firmly: 'We will not have great questions decided by irrelevant agencies. “Our husbands shall not come to us, reeking with carnage, for caresses and applause. “Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn all that we have taught them of charity, mercy and patience. “We women of one country will be too tender of those of another to allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs. “From the bosom of the devastated earth, a voice goes up with our own. It says, ‘Disarm, disarm’ “The sword of murder is not the balance of justice. Blood does not wipe out dishonor, nor does violence indicate possession. “As men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war, let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of counsel. “Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace, each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar but of God. “In the name of womanhood and of humanity, I earnestly ask that a general congress of women without limit of nationality may be appointed and held at some place deemed most convenient and at the earliest period consistent with its objects, to promote the alliance of the different nationalities, the amicable settlement of international questions and the great and general interests of peace.”

[halobirthdays]

Happy birthday to Usze 'Taham! Today is his -496th birthday!

Usze was the son of famed swordsman Toha 'Sumai, who had the privileged of mating with his mother due to his status. Usze was raised by his mother and her husband, a wealthy merchant, while receiving training from 'Sumai, whom Usze believed was his uncle. He excelled at his training and graduated with honors from a top war college.

Usze was soon offered a position on the Covenant Honor Guard. Though a prestigious position, it was largely ceremonial, and Usze made the risky decision to decline, preferring a combat position. Though his superiors warned him that the decision could signal a lack of faith, others respected him for his choice to continue fighting. Still, the decision was not without consequence, with Usze evading punishment and attempts on his life. Though he was faithful to the Covenant, he also joined the Ascetics, a Sangheili order with deep ties to Sangheili pre-Covenant history and beliefs, who existed to preserve their ideals and faith. Unable to be swayed, and otherwise remaining above reproach, he was eventually assigned to the Special Operations division under the leadership of Rtas 'Vadum(ee).

When the Covenant fractured, he remained loyal to the Covenant Separatists, joining Arbiter Thel 'Vadam on his journey to the Ark to prevent the Halo array from firing. After the war, Usze was instrumental in reviving the Ascetic guard, becoming one of their emissaries and a liaison to the UNSC. He worked closely with humans, helping to establish the Riftborn, a joint UNSC/Swords of Sanghelios spec ops unit located on Anvil Station.

During the Blooding Years, Usze was called back home to maintain order on Sanghelios, including thwarting attempts on the Arbiter's life. He answered directly to 'Vadam, who would order him back to the Ark on another joint mission with the UNSC to investigate a countdown signal which suggested that the Halo array was once again set to fire. He was once again paired with N'tho 'Sroam, whom he served with on the Ark, as well as Spartan Frank Kodiak and a team of scientists, including Olympia Vale before she became a Spartan.

After discovering that the signal was being controlled by a rogue AI, Usze and the team were able to stop the countdown, but not without destroying the AI. Usze would form a friendship with Vale, whom he consoled when she expressed that the AI's destruction was a diplomatic failure on her part.

Usze continued to serve directly under 'Vadam during the Created crisis.

In canon (~2560), he is turning 41!

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Siege Warfare

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)    

On the planet Crosunus stood the greatest challenge the Coalition of Free Worlds had come across yet since their war with the Verge Empire had begun.

The city of Astrila.

A city of great symbolic value to the Verge dating back to the foundation of their great empire, it had been a nerve center for military command and control since the outbreak of the war as the Verge advanced across the entire border with the Coalition. It was only thanks to the recent intervention of the isolationist human species, who were promised admission into the coalition for their efforts, that had allowed the Free Worlds to turn the tide and bring them to the very doorstep of their enemy.

The problem was that since the moment humanity joined the fight the Verge began reinforcing Astrila to the extreme. Miles of trenches had been dug out of the rich soil and reinforced with reinforced bunkers, artillery positions, anti-space laser emplacements, shield generators, and more with the sole intent to become the anvil the Coalition would shatter themselves upon. This level of preparation stunned several members of the Coalition as the Verge had not done so since the war began, but the Verge were keenly aware that fresh troops into a war could revitalize the enemy’s war effort and thus needed to be shattered at once before the slow pushes into verge territory became a full tsunami.

Initially, humanity was not asked for assistance with taking Astrila as many of the members of the Coalition felt that they deserved the glory of sacking it after their years of struggle. Humanity instead had its forces diverted to other fronts to keep Verge reinforcements tied down while Astrila was taken; but after nearly six months of grueling attrition warfare the Coalition finally asked for humanity’s assistance.

Little did they know the humans had held a grudge of their own for being sidelined and would take their revenge in a manner no one saw coming. ----------------------------------

“It has been four months since you joined the battle,” Marshall Klem began, “and for a species who pride themselves on warfare you have delivered very little to show for your efforts.”

It took all of Grant’s willpower to stop himself from rolling his eyes at was no doubt about to be another long pointless speech. He found it amusing that despite coming from a species known for their anti- social behavior the Marshall seemed to thrive in the lime light whenever he opened up the war council; which he was now using to focus his ire of the day solely on him and the human contingent of the campaign

He and the other leaders of the Coalition had gathered for their weekly update on the battle for Astrila at the command bunker several miles from the front line. One by one they had each listed the progress they had made, but more often lack of, in driving the Verge front their defenses. Before Grant could even give a word of his progress the Marshall had cut him off and began the berating.

“You have done nothing but request ever increasing amounts of machinery from off world and bombard the front lines with useless artillery barrages day after day.”

The Marshall taloned hand at the holographic map display and highlighted the portions of the front under human control.

“What say you for your lack of progress?” the Marshall finished, glaring down at the Major General.

Grant coughed into his hand and gathered his wits. “We have made great progress,” he began, meeting the Marshall’s gaze, “and the results of our sapper corp will now bear fruit.”

Without saying another word he stood to the side and motioned to the doorway leading out of the bunker.

“If you would be so kind as to join me at the observation post you can see the work first hand.”

The gathered leaders were somewhat confused at this, none more so than the Marshall himself.

“Why do you not bring it up on the tactical displays?” Klem smirked, “Or do you not know how to use a viewing monitor?”

Several sycophantic laughs came from the other commanders, but Grant remained unphased.

“Believe me,” he spoke calmly, “this is something you will want to see firsthand.”

Taking a moment for consideration, Klem walked past Grant and made his way to the observation post while the rest of the commanders followed in tow. --------------------------------

The observation post was just next to the command bunker atop a nearby hill. The camouflaged posthad a clear view of Astrila several miles away and could easily make out the network of trenches and bunkers like a great maze. It was here Grant had everyone gather before he laid out his plans.

“Since we arrived on this planet we have been planning a massive attack that would end this siege in one fell swoop.”

Many of the commanders look unimpressed and dismissive, but Grant had counted on as much. He turned and addressed the Marshall.

“I can now tell you that the shipments of machinery we were receiving daily were for industrial grade diggers.”

Klem looked surprised for a moment, but his face quickly contorted back into his seemingly mocking façade.

“Do you mean to tell me that for the last four months while others have been dying on the fields, you have been digging holes?” Marshall Klem asked; the anger barely contained.

“Yes.” Grant replied without hesitation. “We used our artillery bombardments to hide the seismic activity that the enemy may have detected as we dug closer to their lines.”

He pointed off into the distance just right of Astrila to a hilly region that was under the human theater of war. “We began the tunnel several miles away so the enemy would not notice the continued excavation of dirt and thus deduce our plans.”

“Why was I not informed of this?” Klem demanded. “I am the Marshall of this war and by right should have been informed of all operations.”

Grant shrugged. “Given the secretive nature of our sapper corp we felt that should information become known to other members of the campaign that the chance of it leaking would greatly increase.”

The other commanders took offense to that and bristled. Grant had all but just accused them of having a traitor in their midst at worst and at best just told them that they were so incompetent that the information would be leaked by mistake.

Klem was quickly displeased, but for all his bluster he was willing to admit when a plan was sound.

“With a direct tunnel beneath their lines, we can use it to launch a sneak attack and take the city by storm!” Marshall Klem boasted. The other commanders applauded their Marshall for his genius despite having been kept in the dark for the entire length of the operation. A moment Grant was all too happy to disrupt.

“I’m afraid that is not the plan.”

Just as Klem turned another disdainful gaze on Grant the human nodded to another human officer who had been waiting off to the side of the meeting. They spoke quietly into a transmitter before nodding back at Grant.

As Klem was about to demand what that had been about the ground shook beneath their feet. Marhsall looked up from Grant and saw something he had never even dreamed could be real.

Off in the distance great plums of dust and dirt shot up from the grounds surrounding Astrila. Skyscrapers teetered and collapsed as the soil beneath their foundations shifted violently, the energy dome that had been protecting the city itself from bombardment stuttered and collapsed as the power plant supplying it had several walls collapse and crush the massive generators within, and finally the most devastating indignity that could fall upon the Verge happened when their ancient temples that had stood for a thousand years caved in and in the blink of an eye were reduced to moldy piles of dirt and brick.

Klem watched with mouth wide open in disbelief as the entire city slowly began sinking into the ground. It was as if a great gaping mouth had appeared and decided the elegant city would make for the most delicious of snacks and set about devouring it.

In the span of thirty minutes what had once been the jewel of the Verge empire had been reduced to a hole in the ground.

The other commanders looked on in disbelief as Grant resumed his explanation.

“We undermined the entire city and dug a roughly one mile deep expanse underneath it.” Grant calmly elaborated. “After which we planted explosives that would collapse the support structures and cave in the entire area like a giant sinkhole.”

With his explanation now given he casually looked down at his watch. “I imagine the Verge commanders will be contacting you anytime now Marshall to offer terms of surrender.” He said calmly. “Well, that is if any of them are still alive after the second part.”

Klem had just enough time to ask “What second part?” when another series of explosions went off.

This time to the south of the city, a chain reaction of explosions went off leading away from the city. Klem watched in puzzlement as they continued leading away from the city creating a great trench of sorts. He continued following the trench as it was made and was horrified when he saw what it was leading to.

The explosions stopped just as the newly made massive trench connected to the nearby lake Lao’ta. The waters of the lake rushed down through the newly made trench and began flooding back down all the way to the hole that was once Astrila.

Torrents of water poured into the hole and the entire area began to fill rapidly. Klem could almost imagine the shell shocked Verge forces who had survived the initial explosions only to be met with a wall of water that would most assuredly drown them.

“This was not what I wanted!” Klem shouted at Grant, all pretenses of decorum gone.

Grant looked up at Klem smiling. “As I recall you brought us in to bring about an end to this theater of war.” Grant replied with a hint of sarcasm at the end.

“There were artifacts inside the city I was meant to bring offworld!” Klem continued. “Symbols to show that we had beaten the Verge on their holiest of grounds!”

“You mean spoils of war.”

The smile left Grant’s face as the Marshall continued to bristle; the other commanders to afraid to speak up lest his wrath be turned on them next.

Grant flicked a thumb over his shoulder back at the now newly made lake where Astrila once stood. “You can still swim down there and get them.” He replied coldly. “Just don’t expect us to do anymore heavy lifting for you, you snot nosed piss weedle.”

Klem’s anger was boiling over at this point and it looked like he was to strike Grant when the human turned away and left the observation post.

“If you lot want to dick around robbing the Verge go ahead, but don’t call it a war and come crawling to us when you get your arses kicked.”

[answrs]

not me listening to The Oh Hellos driving today and my brain snagging the line “bury me beneath the tree I climbed when I was a child” and rotating it like a fork in a microwave in my mind. so like. you know. have fun. c: EDIT: now on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46776934

There is a world in which Arceus is not merciful to a man lost in time and space and mind, and the Lords Sinnoh are ambivalent at best. Palkia grants its warden a single word in return for his service to the Pearl Clan: ‘Unova’.

It takes decades, and as an old man, the aches and pains of injuries have caught up and he can no longer serve his Lady of the Cliffs. He’s held on to that word like a dragon its most prized treasure all these years, and for his final voyage he barters travel on a merchant ship to his far-sought land. Irida, Lian, the clan and village at large beg him stay, but he must make this final pilgrimage to the place his heart longs to be, for him to rest.

it’s a long, dangerous, stressful voyage. but the ship eventually reaches landfall and his legs follow a path of their own volition. he arrives at a small village, and though he doesn’t recognize the land or the people, something inside him that has always ached settles contentedly in his chest.

The people of Anville Town know little of this ancient stranger from a far-off land, that traveled so long to their settlement on a whim, who prays to a Lord Dragon from afar yet speaks of their Twin Deities like second nature. He doesn’t stay with them long, is often found resting his aching bones in a clearing of the woods once home to an ancient oak, felled in the King’s Great War. he carries an acorn from it in his pocket and asks only this: that when he rises no more, let his body nurture new life where death has taken another. let life return to this space when he can no longer fill it.

.

Centuries later, two young boys find a great, ancient tree in a secluded area of the forest that surrounds their home. They are young, bright souls, and call it theirs. deep in the earth, in the memory of roots through bone long disappeared, Ingo is content.

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE :  MAY 1990 

YOUTH, SPEED, & FURY

SHAWN MICHAELS FACES BRET “HIT MAN” HART

It promised to be a dream matchup. Bret “Hit Man” Hart and Shawn Michaels, components of the two of the World Wrestling Federation’s most dynamic tag teams-the Hart Foundation and the Rockers, respectively–agreed to test each other’s heralded ralents in a singles bout. What followed was a dazzling display of wrestling scientific and grueling combat. Even after the contest became inflamed to the point that the referee had to call for a double disqualification, each gladiator left with great respect for the other. 

“I didn’t expect anything less.” stated the handsome Michaels, unwinding in the dressing room with his partner Maety Jannetty after the bell. “When you sign on the dotted line against Bret ‘Hit Man’ Hart, you sign to fight a hurricane. I had to give it all I had, and—if you ask me—I came out of the battle looking pretty good.” He touched a bump above his left eye and joked, “This’ll heal fine, and soon I’ll be breaking hearts again. But the first thing on my mind right now is Bret Hart. What I wouldn’t do to step in the ring with him again and gain a decisive victory!”

Several yards down the corridor, the mood was the same. Hart and teammate Jim “The Anvil” Neidhart looked at one another and grinned. 

“Tough kid,” Neidhart muttered.

Hit Man shook his head. “He fought some match. My ears are still ringing from his punches. I’d love to say ‘I didn’t know he had it in him,’ but that’s not true. The reason I wanted this match is that I knew that Shawn Michaels is a fabulous wrestler. I’ll give him this: He knows how to mix it up. I guess next time I’ll have to play a little bit harder.”

In the stands, the fans were almost as winded. The bout had been so intense that it seemed to blur past the spectators. When one man applied a punishing hold, the other was quick with a counter. As soon as the referee broke a clutch, the grapplers were tangled up again. When the combatants decided to start bending the rules, nothing less than a four-man brawl—starring the Rockers and the Hart Foundation—followed. 

“These guys didn’t let up for a single second, observed manager Bobby “The Brain” Heenan, normally on the opposite side of both competitors. “I’m not saying that either of these chumps could beat one of my men, but I still watched the match with interest. Because Hart and Michaels are similar types of wrestlers, I figured I’d see what they use against members of the Heenan family. That’s the key to smart managing, pal. Learn their repertoires and use the knowledge to your advantage.” 

[Bret Hart showed his lightinglike reaction time and his quick reflexes by grabbing Shawn Michaels in a reverse atomic drop when the two ran the ropes.]

Heenan was intrigued by this contest. While the manager is short on praise for his foes, his interests in the Hart-Michaels confrontation can be interrupted as a compliment to both men. By taking meticulous notes on the match, Heenan sent out a clear message: Hart and Michaels are at the top of their profession and pose a threat to every other wrestler.

The information was not news to the battlers. The bout had come about through mutual respect, coupled with the desire to overcome a formidable challenge.

Michaels was clearly the hungrier of the two, and his thirst for greatness was understandable. In Hart he saw an accomplished athlete, solid in technical skills and proficient in fisticuffs, who had “made it” as both a singles and tag team grappler. With Neidhart, Hit Man had held the WWF Tag Team Championship. In individual competition, he had established himself as a contender for the WWF Championship and Intercontinental Titles, and he was even profiled in a special issue of WWF Wrestling Spotlight.

Hart was just as anxious to log a victory. Despite Bret’s apparent youth, he has grown into a hardened veteran of the mat wars, and he wanted to ensure that he had not grown rusty. Hit Man viewed Michaels as one of wrestling’s “new breed,” one who rebels against the conventions of ring combat and who improvises and innovations in each match. The moves utilized by the Rockers impressed Hit Man, and he admitted feeling twinges of envy. Hadn’t he also been labeled a spectacular new force in the early days of the Hart Foundation? From the dressing room entrance, Bret watched the Rockers wage war with the mountainous Powers of Pain. He was reminded of the Foundation’s brace encounter with Andre the Giant in the closing moments of Wrestlemania 2’s battle royal. He wanted a bout with Michaels, to test himself. 

Rather than being divided in its loyalties, the crowd was solidly behind both wrestlers, giving each a rousing cheer as he made his way to the ring with his regular tag team partner. To offer moral support–or, perhaps, when two fiercely determined athletes square off–Jannetty and Neidhart remained at ringside after the bell rang. 

The match began in a sportsmanlike fashion, and it seemed relatively even. They locked up collar-to-elbow, with Michaels backing Bret into the turnbuckles. The Rocker broke the hold, detaching himself from his foe. When they tangled again, Hit Man applied a reverse wristlock. Michaels wiggled, loosened his opponent’s grip, then slipped behind Hart and clamped on a hammerlock. Bret displayed his experience by reversing the maneuver.

The fireworks that would be seen later in the match were ignored in the manner in which Michaels broke the hold. He thrust his elbow backward into Bret’s throat. The gesture was hardly a whack with a closed fist or a kick to the rings, but it qualified as roughhousing.

Hart recovered swiftly. He caught the Rocker in a reverse atomic drop and leveled him with a meteor of a clothesline. A snapmare appeared to disable Michaels further, but the war was just beginning. Whether the Rocker had exaggerated his injuries or recovered from the brink of defeat by pure heart, he still will not say. 

[Shawn Michaels struck with solid skill and dazzling moves. In the end, tempers flared, and a wild, full-fledged brawl ensued.]

What is known is that Michaels began fighting as if he had never been hurt. He slid out of the way of his foe’s elbowdrop and did some fancy spinning in midair to land on his feet after a backflip. Hart turned around to be blasted by a dropkick. Seeing Hit Man sprawled on the canvas, Michaels went for the kill.

His planning was premature. Bret waited for his opponent to mount the top rope before gripping him from underneath and hurling him across the ring. Possibly embarrassed by Michaels’ good showing, Hit Man got tough and unleashed forearms and elbows. 

Tempers were starting to flare. Michaels contained his anger long enough to avoid a side suplex–doing a 360-degree turn while being lifted, landing on his feet and bodyslamming Hit Man. Again, both men ran the ropes. This time, it served neither’s advantage, as they elbowed on another and hit the mat simultaneously.

A classic moment occurs when they rose and took turns exchanging suplex attempts. The defensive skills of each were so refined that neither could accomplish his task. 

Frustrated, they wrestled into the corner. Neither wished to break. Asserting his authority, the referee wedged between them. When separated, they could not wait to duel again. Words were exchanged, then shoves. Bret clocked his adversary. Jannetty stepped onto the apron to argue with– and then punch–Hit Man. Neidhart chimed in and was slugged by Michaels. Within seconds, the ring was flooded with WWF officials trying to restore order in a four-way free-for-all. 

Remarkably, the bad feelings were left in the ring. Each man recognized the others gutsiness, and each will go so far as to compliment the rival tag team. Both the Rockers and the Hart Foundation pledge support for each other if it is needed. 

But if it is not, Bret Hart and Shawn Michaels cannot wait to tear into each other again. 

[silverskye13]

“Playing a dangerous game, aren’t ye, laddie?”

Ren hangs the anvil BDubs had bestowed upon him over the throne. It’s a heavy, dangerous thing, meant to represent the weight and power behind his responsibilities. Or at least, that’s what he figures BDubs was trying to get across when he hit him with it.  BDubs is a little hard to decipher when it comes to these things sometimes. Ren thinks maybe all the moss has gotten to BDubs’ head. At least this time the infection just instills a sense of adventure, instead of dragging him off into the jungle like his last plant-based infestation. 

Ren’s spent the better part of a hour replacing the diorite floors and wall of his new throne room with deepslate tiles. It matches his colors better. Red and white is a palette he’s been intentionally avoiding, though not hard enough, apparently. He catches his reflection in the polished deepslate tiles. They’re too dark to be a true mirror, but the massive form of The Red King is unmistakable. His blood-soaked legacy sticks to the bottom of Ren's shoes like a shadow, always following just a step behind.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ren sniffs.

"I notice you've neglected a proper crown this time," The Red King continues, undaunted. "Ye fear being a target even still. Even among friends."

"I was among friends last time," Ren answers defensively. "It was just a game. Besides, this is Hermitcraft."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Yer wars here are bloodier."

"They're not." Ren steps back from the throne, nodding to himself when he decides the anvil is hanging straight. "And even if they were, they're more inconsequential. All anyone will lose is, what? A few hours and a few levels, maybe some gear if the pranks get crazy."

"The magician kens not what he asks of ye," The Red King insists. "Ye are falling for the same pitfalls ye did before lad. Was not Dogwarts the product of wishful thinking?"

"Why do you care?" Ren snaps. He's losing his patience. "You hate me, remember?"

"I'm trying to help ye, Rendog." The Red King's voice growls low, a whisper that feels like it comes from the depths of the earth. It fixes Ren in place like a knife to his throat, like a threat. The Red King's voice is beside his ear, like instead of speaking from a reflection in the tiles, he's standing right behind him. "Heavy is the crown bestowed on the unwilling, lad. Or the unworthy."

Ren tries to find his voice. Tries to come up with some digging reply. He could point out this is just another trick to make him feel bad about himself. See? You think I'm unworthy. Drop the facade of help and care. But he can't speak, because The Red King's voice begins again, so low Ren almost can't hear it over his own breathing.

"A good King rules in the interest of his people. He makes the hard decisions so they aren't burdened with them. He commands, because he is just. He revives peace in the corners of the world where it struggles to breathe."

The room is suddenly silent. Ren feels stiff, like he's locked in place. He's still staring at the anvil over the throne, but it looks less like an anvil and more like an axe head.

"Do you have what it takes to be a good king, Ren?"

Rockets sound overhead, and the freeze in Ren's limbs melts like a candle under dragon fire. Doc swoops onto the landing pad, beaming.

"Ren! There you are! Bro, oh my god, you've got to see what me and the hivemind came up with." Doc slaps his hands together and offers a maniacal grin. "Operation Skyfall on that Pesky Bird is ready."

Ren laughs nervously. Doc tells him about a death machine he's made like a kid discovering a new candy store down the street. This doesn't have to start a war. That's what they've said for the past three seasons. And even if it does start a war, there's no real loss.

He tells himself this as he flies after Doc, watching the red and white flash of metal and redstone grow closer.

[writernopal]

Find the Word

Hi, hello, using this as proof that I do indeed live lol I've just been. Having A Time. Anyway, thank you to @oh-no-another-idea for tagging me here!

My words to find were: remember, something, blue, and dawn. All sneeps are coming from Man O' War for this one because I desperately miss this project!

remember

‘Do not expect to return as you are.’  Quye’ck looked all around. Not a thing for miles. Did it matter where he went? ‘With any luck, you shall return as who you are meant to be.’ Perhaps. Perhaps not. But anywhere was better than standing here.  ‘The wilds are the furnace and anvil with which Kava perfects us in her image. Remember that and you shall not break.’

something

They walked, in his case, slithered, for miles and miles, cleaving through sand and across earth. Sand and earth. Sand and earth… Golden and shining. Waves upon waves of splendor decorated the horizon, marvelously unaware of their own violence, blotched only by the occasional tuft of something living and wild. Perhaps a hare or a dried up shrub. It was hard to know, and he hardly cared. The blank stares from before had yet to leave his mind, and the hobbling steps of the modest one created an uneasy clock, ticking down and down…  Four days later, the clock stopped ticking, striking instead a heavy sound.  They stopped. 

blue

A man as tall and wide as his Pa, though far more wrinkled, circled the couple, speaking words not of contract but of unity. He donned robes in the same bright colors of the squawking birds that decorated the canopies of The Heartlands—rich greens, vivid yellows, and brilliant blues—to stand out against his maroon scales. Jewelry crafted of carefully carved wood and bone dangled around his neck, wrists, and ankles, making the pieces of steel in his nose all the more noticeable. They glinted in the candlelight. One, two, three, four, five rings straddled the space between his nostrils, one for each of his wives. Not just ‘a man’ then, no, he was the indelible, the ancient, Lord X’chtlama, Clan Leader of Lexlar. The only one worth remembering in that sea of faces.

dawn

He flinched and from the cluttered space emerged a woman. She was old and walked with a cane. Her scales were a silvery-blue, like the waking color of the dawn sky, and her shoulders were hunched. They made the papery crest trailing down her back appear more like a vestigial fin or perhaps a tattered piece of old fashion. Swirls of shapeless fabric draped over her person, given structure by cleverly placed pins and a heavy belt. On her face, a kindly and teetering smile. One which made apparent the puckering creases on her snout and around her mouth as it quivered to form that pleasant look.

Tagging (gently): @tabswrites @void-botanist @thatndginger @sarahlizziewrites

Your words will be: wither, gather, surreal, and fragrant

M.O.W Taglist: @moonluringfrost @full-on-sam @illjustpretend @sparatus @outpost51 @captain-kraken @the-mindless @zestymimblo @mysticstarlightduck @tabswrites @void-botanist

Join/leave the taglist using this Google Form.

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

K & 15 for my most beloved Billy!!💖💖

congrats on 500!! 🎉

Thank you very much 💕

Just a heads up, this one mildly smutty.

K. Only one bed 15. 'Don't stop on my account.'

---------------------------------------

‘Any luck?’ you asked Billy as he returned from the hotel reception desk.

He shook his head and held up two key cards. Two key cards, but for just one hotel room.

You knew for a fact that two rooms had been booked for this Anvil business trip. You had been the one who booked them. It was part of your job as Billy’s personal assistant.

And you were very good at your job.

‘They must have lost the other booking,’ said Billy. ‘And now they’re all full up. So we could either run around the city looking for another hotel that isn’t booked solid because of this damn Star Trek convention…’

‘Star Wars,’ you corrected automatically.

‘… or we could just share.’

Sharing a hotel room with Billy Russo was a very dangerous idea. He was a walking wet dream, and it was hard enough keeping your fantasies controlled at work, let alone in a luscious hotel suite.

But it was quite probably your only option.

You took one of the key cards with a sigh.

‘They had better give us a voucher for the mini bar or something.’

----

The one saving grace of this whole mix up was that at least it was Billy’s room that the hotel still had record of. It was much nicer than the one you had booked for yourself. You had never been one for overindulging, but you knew Billy was the complete opposite, and whenever you went away on business, your rooms reflected that.

Billy always insisted you spoil yourself, so maybe this was your chance.

The room was a large suite with a living space, balcony, bathroom with a spa bath so deep you could probably swim in it… and a bedroom with one king-sized bed.

‘Hope you don’t snore,’ joked Billy, lightening the mood.

He was good at that. It was one of the things that made him such a great boss.

‘Right back at ya,’ you said with a laugh. ‘Wanna see what movies they’ve got?’

‘Only if it’s one of the naughty ones.’

He winked and you felt your whole face heat up.

‘You wish,’ you said as you threw a pillow at him.

Billy laughed and caught it easily.

----

The movie you watched wasn’t naughty, but the same could not be said for your dreams. Those consisted of very naughty thoughts indeed, and all of them starred the man your mind and body knew was lying next to you.

A lot closer next to you than when you had gone to sleep apparently.

When you woke, it was to find that you and Billy had gravitated towards each other in your sleep. So much so that your legs had become tangled up together and you were pressed right up against his chest.

But that wasn’t the most embarrassing part.

No, the most embarrassing part was that while your mind had been dreaming, your body had reacted to those dreams… and Billy’s thigh wedged between your legs was providing the perfect kind of friction as your hips rolls gently against it.

You froze and then slowly lifted your head, hoping to see that Billy was still asleep and oblivious to your dilemma.

No such luck.

You looked up to see his gazed fixed on you and his lips curled up into a smirk.

‘Don’t stop on my account,’ he teased. And was it your imagination, or did his thigh press a little closer?

You closed your eyes, silently wishing that the bed would open up and swallow you whole or that the almighty Zeus would strike you down with a bolt of lightning. Anything that would save you from the mortification of having been caught dry humping your boss’s leg in your sleep.

Oh God. What if you had said his name? You had no idea if you talked in your sleep, but if you had, there was only name that would have passed your lips.

When no miraculous and immediate death came, you figured you had better pull yourself off him before the lawsuits started, but your leg barely moved before Billy’s hand was on it, pulling it back.

It was then that it dawned on you that he hadn’t pulled away either. And he’d had plenty of time to do so.

‘Don’t stop,’ he repeated, this time far from teasing, and he used his firm grip on your leg to pull you closer.

‘Billy?’ you questioned, unsure.

He silenced you with a kiss that was somehow both sweet and dirty. ‘God, Y/N,’ he breathed once he had pulled away. ‘I knew sleeping next to you was going to be torture, but I didn’t think you’d make it this hard.’

‘Was that a pun?’ you asked, still a bit dazed from the kiss.

‘It was the truth.’

A smile slowly spread across your face. ‘You want me, too?’

You suddenly found yourself on your back, Billy hovering over you. Your legs weren’t tangled together anymore, and he ground his hips into yours. You both hissed as his very impressive erection pressed against your core. Even through your clothing, it felt amazing.

‘I’ve wanted you since the first day you walked through my office door,’ he said. You could tell by the intensity in his eyes that he meant every word.

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ you asked. You weren’t sure where the bravery had come from, but you were way past caring. ‘Take what you want.’

Billy’s face lit up at that, but you only got to see it for a moment before his lips were on yours again in a kiss that was full of promises.

You were going to have to send the hotel a gift basket for their mistake.

[amarriageoftrueminds]

Every scene with Peggy in CATFA is infuriating. But the two scenes that infuriate me the most are: Peggy shooting Steve over petty jealousy and Peggy being so damn rude to Bucky at the bar. The last one is especially infuriating because Bucky was being polite and courteous to Peggy, but she just totally ignored him and continued to oggle at Steve. Like WTF was that all about??? What did Bucky ever do to Peggy???

That second scene is interesting when you factor in the period, and the fact that they thought they were writing a heterosexual scene.

Because you've got Bucky, who's supposed to know all about romancing the dames, who sees a woman walk up to his friend in a bar. And just... stays where he is.

Bro etiquette -- now and then -- dictates he should be hustling across the room to give Steve some privacy. But he doesn't.

(And Steve doesn't seem at all bothered that he doesn't either, does he?)

There is no reason why Steve -- even if he is busy giving his usual Live Slug Reaction to being hit on, yet again, by a woman who can't take a hint -- cannot answer Peggy's clumsy overtures himself.

But he doesn't.

So Bucky steps in, and prevents her from making even more of a fool of herself (twinkling at a man who just gives 🙂), by filling in the conversational gap. Picking up the anvil-sized hints she's dropping since Steve apparently doesn't care to.

(Hitting on a woman who walks up in a vamp dress and a bar would be considered less gallant by today's standards, but by WWII standards? Bucky is being the sole gentleman here!)

So why does he do it?

Did they mean to imply, by casting Jenna Coleman, that brown-eyed-brunettes are Bucky's type? 😬 Eeesh. Doesn't really say much for why Steve would be interested in her then, does it?

(In fact, it's like he only enjoy's Peggy pass as a do-over of the Stark Expo Double Date, but now he gets to succeed with the 'Jenna Coleman' instead of Bucky. It's just another version of Endgame's Hero's Journey-style 'Woman As Prize' motif. 🙄)

Bucky stays where he is and shows an interest because the dudebro writers so transparently wanted Steve to get the Nerd's Revenge; a little wish-fulfillment power fantasy. The handsome popular friend with the great personality, getting punished for being more popular and handsome than the hero in high school, by striking out with The Girl while the hero succeeds.

But -- since they're incompetent and/or cannot control what CEvans chooses to do with his performance 😂 -- Steve is not at all bothered when Peggy leaves, makes no move to go after her, etc. 🤔

No move to 'go dancing' when he has the opportunity, just like he didn't make a move on the original Jenna Coleman character, either...

(Contrast that with: actually-interested Tony Stark who couldn't be prevented from going after Pepper Potts, when he saw her in a 'hero' dress at the party.)

And those idiot writers think this scene is Peggy proving she's a Cool Girl.

Because she, who alone knows the Real Steve, has remembered that Steve is secretly just a great big loser inside...

(Never mind that he's a globally famous film star, a decorated war hero, a superhuman and a heart throb, obviously he's still beneath such an important person as Peggy Carter, nepotism hire!)

...So she has come, in Gaston Red, to announce that she will Allow Steve to date Her!

(Her Royal Highness the Most Specialist- nay, Only Special Person in the Whole Multiverse!!)

And she widens her eyes at him as if to say what a lucky boy he is, what a treat for him!

.

She is rude to Bucky, and won't look at him, because she is written by men who think a Strong Female Character means one who acts like a man.

In this case, it's a 'won't acknowledge the less-attractive female friend of the woman he's relentlessly targeting at the club' sort of a man. 🤡

Bucky's crime is being undateable and yet still in her presence. (Why can't he just have the common decency to not exist??)

No wonder Steve stayed with his bros! If he was a girl, he'd be a girl's girl. 😌