#Cinder the blood hunter

[sapphic-scylla]

THEY ARE MINE

The world of Cor Varias had known its fair share of hardships. The gods, caring for the people they watched over, stepped back from the world to watch from afar. As civilization grew around the scars of the Disparity, the world and its inhabitants began to progress the world due to their own cooperation and ingenuity rather than leaning on divine powers too much. And the gods wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The prime heads of the deities had issued the Law of Direction. Divine beings could not directly interfere with mortal progress. They could appoint clerics and paladins and influence many other heroes, but even with them, they could not directly intercede in any way that would dramatically alter mortality’s development. Any choices or efforts or any discoveries could only be influenced by divine help if directly called on by mortality and, even then, the deities could only offer minor aid unless it was to intercept any malevolent divine force.

Mortality grew and, eventually, a lot of the gods faded into obscurity, though still watching from afar. The world grew its own conflicts and mortality continued to rise and fall with each decade. No one new the threats that lay within chains or deep within the abyss were stirring.

In a tower beyond space and time, a cloak battered against the pace of her walking as she entered the meeting chamber where several demigods like herself stood around a table. Her eyes red and lavender as she took her seat.

“Feels weird to call us a council, so I won’t. Especially since we’re all married. In any case, Cor Varias is in trouble as you all know and as much as we want to do this for ourselves, the Law of Direction limits our ability, even as demigods.” Petra spoke.

Haley smiled. “I’ve been doing some research and I think I found us some candidates for eyes on the ground. We obviously can’t bless them like gods, but we can help steer them in the right direction.”

Marasenna, in her intimidating glory, nodded. “We also aren’t as bound by the law so we can actively fight these threats. But these three will have to take the lead.”

Lyria restrung her bow. “Well, then I guess we have our work cut out for us. Who do we have?”

Verity placed out three dossiers on the table. “One is a sorcerer. A diplomat of the Tabaxi Order. Incredibly powerful. Nearly impossible to kill and has a twinge of dark in them.”

Emily, eyes still closed in meditation, agreed and continued. “There is also a tiefling. Deep hemocraft is woven into her blood, but something stole her memory. She knows nothing of her past, but she has a fight in her you can’t match.”

Aerin continued. “And finally, a cleric like you, Petra, but this one harbors an aura of death. The Mistress, Malathriel, has taken a special interest in her. Loving family, but she also houses something ancient. Malathriel loves, cherishes, and cares deeply for her clerics and has always honored the Law, but this young aasimar also harbors power from the deep. We suspect Zigguridan and his cult had a hand in it.”

Petra drifted her hands over the dossiers. “Well, they all fit the part. They have a long journey ahead of them. Especially if the hope to catch us and our thousands of years of experience. Nonetheless, we can’t let our foes know we are making moves. Senna, Em, and Haley, I think you should go wake them up. Cor Varias is about to get very interesting indeed.”

@ebevkisk, I spite wrote this. Also, an introduction to my new world I’m building and I think you’ll love who protects this world. Consider this a reminder of my darling lovelies as well as my D&D characters written as the SHOULD have been written.

[minaminokyoko]

It’s finally cover reveal day! My new novella, Of Wings and Shadows (Of Cinder and Bone #5.5) is here.(Cover art by BRose Designz) Synopsis below.

In a modern-day world teeming with marauding dragons, there is only one solution: The Wild Hunt. The United States government has decided to hold a tournament called The Wild Hunt to determine who will be responsible for the capture of wild dragons by the Knight Division. The four challengers Noah Wilson, Charlie Howard, Su Jin Han, and Beowulf have to catch five deadly dragons alive if they want to win the tournament and become the new Knight Division dragon hunters. Their journey will take them through the mountains of South Carolina, the seas of Key West, the caverns of Ruby Falls, the Redwood forest, and finally, the murky bayous of Louisiana. Will they succeed against their competition, or will the dragons of the Wild Hunt be too wild to tame? Of Wings and Shadows is the sixth book in the Of Cinder and Bone series. It takes place in medias res of Book Five, Of Claws and Inferno. It follows Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, Of Dawn and Embers, and Of Fury and Fangs.

Release date: July 22nd, 2023

Pre-order now for only .99 cents. The price will increase on July 23rd. Add it to your Goodreads TBR shelf as well. 

Haven’t read the other books in the series yet? I gotchu, fam. 

And don’t forget--Of Cinder and Bone is a permanently free ebook on Amazon and all other platforms! 

...please clap.

[ithilwen-blackwood]

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood Fanfics

PART 1 - PART 2

(UPDATED JULY 23)

Rivalry

Hunted/Hunter

Bloodborne Hunter Davos Blackwood

A Dragon Flees

Chapter 4

Thorn of Winterfell

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Benjicot x Arryn

From Eden

Chapter 4

If the stars said you couldn't love me

Chapter 3

Born to Die

Chapter 2

A Treeline Promise

Chapter 2

Cinders in the Dark

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Playing with Fire

Who we Are

Sweet Violence

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Love is like the rose Thorn

Bound by Blood and Fire

Prologue

Chapter 1

The Dragon and the Raven

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

The Blackwood Knight

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

(new chapters below)

Chapter 8

The Gold Tankard

Insatiable Appetites

Enemies in Public, Lovers in Private

Sleeping with the Enemy

Underneath the Steel

The Labor of our Fruits

Dinner and Diatribes

I told myself that this is the last time

Bracken Bunny

Chapter 2

A Calling to the Past

The Great War

Chapter 3

Flying Dragons and Crows

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Haunting of Riverrun

A Witch's Touch

Afternoon Escapade

Benjicot x servant (new)

The Great Chess Tournament

Chapter 1

Along the Way to Harrenhal

Chapter 1

The Song of Blackwoods and Brackens

Chapter 1-3

Chapter 4-6

(new chapters below)

Chapters 7-9

A Raven and a Falcon

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

(new chapters below)

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

I love you, it's ruining my life

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The Tempest Princess

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Modern Benjicot/Davos Blackwood

Part 4

Fight Like a Girl

Chapter 3

I was waiting for you

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

His Princess

Chapter 2

(new chapters below)

Chapter 3

Blackheart

(new chapters below)

Chapter 4

Too Sweet for Me (new)

Duty is the Death of Love (new)

Lifetime (new)

[arc-misadventures]

First of all let me tell you that I love Cinder's entry, so full of lore. but here I come with something for Vtuber au; So, for Ruby, Weiss or maybe some other vtuber that you want to introduce, react to the information update of one of the most important events of The World of Remnant: Hunter's and Monsters. Because the way cinder and jaune explained it, it was an important event at that time. PS: Your work is always amazing, so don't worry about how long it takes to do something as long as you feel good about it.

The VTuber: The Lady of the Grimm

Fall4Me had a plan for today’s stream, a plan she had been looking forward to implementing for quite some time now. Today she invited a special guest, and she was all to forward to once again meet her, Lady.

~~~

Fall4Me: Hello my underlings, how are you this fine day~?

~~~~~~

Kinder79: Our lady is here!

Judicatorsbanana: All hail the, Grimm Princess!

Linxder: Hi, Ember!

H3LL3R: Been better.

Rangerlion: Can’t complain really

ICSTARS: What’s the plan for today?

~~~

Fall4Me: That’s good to hear chat. Now then, for today’s stream we’ll be joined by a very special guest. And no, before you ask it is not, Errant.

Her body fell back in her chair, her body adopting a tired, and weary posture as she lamented the fact that her darling wolf would not be joining them.

She quickly brushed this aside as she resumed her stream.

Fall4Me: Now then, today we will be joined by a friend back from my days of playing, World of Remnant: Hunters, and Monsters. Today will be joined by my, Queen; The leader of the Cabal, the Queen of the Grimm: GrimmMonarch!

Appearing from the side was an elegant lady with skin, and hair as white as bone. Eyes as red as fresh fallen blood, and nestled in a black void, smiling enchantingly at the stream. For this was the LadyofDarkness, the GrimmMonarch.

~~~~~~

H3LL3R: Whoa momma

ToxickBattery: Why are all the ladies in Remnant so hot!

Piggu910: Is that a bad thing?

ToxickBattery: Just an observation.

Judicatorbanana: This going to be good!

~~~~~~

GrimmMonarch: Why hello everyone it is a pleasure to meet you all this fine day, and hello to you as well, Ember, it is a pleasure to meet you again. How have you been my dear?

Fall4Me: I am well my, Queen. How are you feeling?

GrimmMonarch: I am quite well today. Well, bar the fact that my tea has gone cold, but that is nothing to really concern myself with.

Fall4Me: I shall get you a new cup of tea at once my, Lady!

GrimmMonarch: Ahh~! Ember my dear, you’re doing it again.

Fall4Me: EEEP!

The chat exploded into a choir of hearts as they heard the cute squeak escape, Fall4Me’s lips.

To those chosen few that knew; back in the days of, World of Remnant: Hunters, and Monsters, GrimmMonarch had adopted a stern, but caring motherly attitude to dealing with the, Cabal, and its members. A demeanour that, Fall4Me instantly gravitated to.

For, GrimmMonarch adopting such a demeanour had become a coping mechanism to dealing with the lose she could barely endure, and as to why, Fall4Me stuck so close to her was to have what she never had when she was young.

They were simply two broken people cleaning to each other to mend their broken hearts. And, while their hearts had mended, some old habits were hard to break.

GrimmMonarch: It’s been years since we last play, WoRHM, and yet you seemingly still haven’t shaken off that loyal subject persona of yours.

Fall4Me: I can’t help it! It’s reflex at this point!

GrimmMonarch: We will have to fix that bad habit of yours. But, in the meantime, what are we doing on this fine day?

Fall4Me: Well, my chat has been pestering me for quite sometime about something, and because you had more… involvement with this situation, I thought it would be best to have you around to tell everyone what happened.

GrimmMonarch: Situation?

The Lady’s eyebrow shot up as she mulled over the word, until her mouth opened as a hum of realization escaped her lips.

GrimmMonarch: You are referring to the, ‘Scorpion Incident,’ aren’t you?

Fall4Me: Yes. During a video where, Errant was…

GrimmMonarch: Errant? Do you mean, ErrantryPaladin by chance?

Fall4me: Yes, do you know him?

GrimmMonarch: We spent some time together after the, ‘Scorpion Incident.’ Do continue my dear.

Fall4Me: Of corse; Before I did my first stream, Errant saw my announcement video, and regaled his viewers with the tale about my character, his interactions with the cabal, and the bloody retribution he wrought upon the, Cabal.

GrimmMonarch: Oh, so it was him who unleashed that half baked, Grimm-Titan upon us.

Fall4Me: You didn’t know? No wait, he never told anyone until that stream, of course you didn’t know.

GrimmMonarch: No, but I always had this stinking suspicion that he did. There was something about, Errant’s behaviour that that told that he knew something about the, Titan attack, but he never said what that something was.

Fall4Me: I never suspected a thing, I had no idea that, that, Titan was encouraged into attacking the, Cabal. I thought it was mere happenstance that it attacked us.

GrimmMonarch: It shows you how effective, Errant’s plan was that we all were none the wiser to his scheming. But, enough talking about our, Rusted Knight. Let me regale you with the story of the rise, and fall of the, Grimm Cabal.

GrimmMonarch: I played WoRHM, for a long time. From the beginning to the end… I believe I had over four thousand hours on the game…

~~~~~~

KinofPenguin : 4000 hrs?!

buggermeoldchap: WoRHM was around long enough for someone to have played that long.

ICSTARS: Most of the top plays averaged 4-5 k hrs

RaverKitty: The highest was around 7 k

ToxickBattery: Was it, Headmaster Ozpin?

Meol’mucker: Who else would have played it that long?

~~~~~~

GrimmMonarch: Because I played so long, my level was… two hundred and, thirtyseven. I was nearly around three hundred by the time I stopped playing.

Fall4Me: Two hundred, and thirty seven?! I guessed you were over level one hundred, but to be double that?

GrimmMonarch: The leaders of the academies, and well as myself, the former leader of the, Cabal each had an average level around two hundred, and fifty. It was part of the reason I was scouted to be the, Queen of the Grimm. I could have been the Headmistress of, Mistral Academy, but the idea of leading the, Cabal was an oh so much more tantalizing idea~!

Fall4Me: Who had the highest level; Headmaster Ozpin?

GrimmMonarch: You would assume, Ozpin, and you would assume wrong.

Fall4Me: Wrong?! But, he was the best headmaster among the five of you. How come he isn’t the strongest?

GrimmMonarch: You forget how the experience points is distributed. Ozpin mostly fought in teams, so the exp from a quest, or Grimm slaying was distributed among the team. If, you primarily fought alone however, all the exp would go to you. So, care to guess who had the highest level now, Dear?

Fall4Me: Uhhh… E-ErrantryPaladin…?

GrimmMonarch: Ding~Ding~Ding~! That is correct my dear.

Fall4Me: ErrantryPaladin?! He had the highest level…?! How high?

GrimmMonarch: At the closing of the servers, Ozpin had a level of three hundred, and sixty three. Errant however, he had a level of four hundred, and eighty two.

~~~~~~

RangerSnake: 482?!

emptythrone: It was nearly 500?!

Seventwothreepie: Probably played for at least 6k hrs

PlacatedBadger: Explain why he never joined in the tournament matches.

TheBadgers~!: He’d whipe the floor with an entire academy

~~~~~~

Fall4Me: Why did he bother sending that, Titan after us? He could have levelled the guild single handedly…

GrimmMonarch: Considering what happened during the, Apprentice Massacre, I believe, Errant wanted to make sure we suffered. I’ve seen him be rather vindictive to rather cruel players in the game.

GrimmMonarch: Now then, while I was in charge of the, Cabal, I had several powerful members join the, Cabal. Yourself included, Ember. But, while I had several powerful members under command, we were all jokesters, and bullies to a certain extent. Until the massacre happened, the worst the Cabal did was have, Grimm attack settlements, and teams of, Hunters. We were seen as a general nuisance that added spice to the game.

GrimmMonarch: But, after the massacre many of the, Academies started a witch hunt for our members, their attempts to find us mostly ended in failure. Until, Errant evidently sent that, Titan after us we were fine, but that, Titan crippled the, Cabal. Instead of causing Grimm attacks on settlements, and Hunter teams. We were stuck doing raiding missions in an attempt to recoup our strength. Many members left the guild because they couldn’t deal with the pressure the, Academy’s were mounting on them. And despite our best efforts, it seemed we were getting nowhere.

GrimmMonarch: That’s when several players decided to meet together irl, and discuss what they could do to fix the problem. And, this enters in stage left, the culprit of that fateful day… Tyrion Callows…

~~~~~~

Meol’mucker: Man that name sounds evil.

H3LL3R: Sounds creepy.

DaSting: I don’t like where this story is going.

~~~~~~

Fall4Me: Wait, Tyrion Callows is his actual name?

GrimmMonarch: Yes it is. Most players use an alias while playing instead of their real name, however, since no one would know that it is his real name unless he told someone, well it worked at the end of the day.

Fall4Me: I remember the few missions I did with him, he was always seem unhinged. Wasn’t the, Apprentice Massacre his idea?

GrimmMonarch: It was indeed. He was sorely reprimanded when I discovered it was his plan. I should have taken that as a sign…

Fall4Me: A sign? A sign for what?

GrimmMonarch: Of things to come…

She hummed to herself as she contemplated what she was about to say; about how she could say it, and how her audience would talk what she was about to say.

GrimmMonarch: It was seven of them at a diner, including, Tyrian. There were several humans, and faunas there. While they were there, they discussed several ways to revitalize the, Cabal. But, peoples view of the, Cabal was ruined by the events of the, Apprentice Massacre, so it was neigh on impossible for us to recruit new members. And, because we had been raiding so many towns, dust depots, and general supply trains in order to rebuild the, Cabal after the, Titan attack, the Academies started making more missions to protect those assets. The Cabal was at a standstill, we couldn’t push forward with any plans because we were so broken. At that point, the Cabal was a dead man walking…

Fall4Me: Then what happened?

GrimmMonarch: One of them suggested that it would be best to abandon the, Cabal then. Everyone should abandon the, Cabal, me included. We couldn’t get any more supplies, we can’t get any new members, more were leaving every day, it was just a matter of time until the, Cabal was disbanded. The six of them agreed that this was the only course of action. They decided they would bring it before me at the next meeting. But, Tyrian… Tyrian snapped…

Fall4Me: Snapped…?

~~~~~~

DaSting: I REALLY don’t like where this is going!

Judicatorbanana:I’m starting to regret asking what happened.

LevenAngel: I regret a great many things!

~~~~~~

GrimmMonarch: Tyrian started calling everyone a traitor, that they betrayed the, ‘Goddess,’ and that they will all be brought to pay for their transgressions.

GrimmMonarch: They told him to relax, since it was all just a game, but then… Tyrian grabbed a knife, and…

Fall4Me: He didn’t…

GrimmMonarch: Yes, he did…

Fall4Me’s voice fell into a small whisper as realization dawned on her at what that implied. She didn’t want her to continue this story, but she knew that she needed to finish it.

GrimmMonarch: Of the six people, three of them died due to knife wounds… the other three barely managed to survive, however medical personnel managed to come in time to save them. Thought his poison was quite effective.

Fall4Me: And, Tyrian, what about him?

GrimmMonarch: The police were in the area, so they managed to get there quickly, and when they were in the process of attempting to arrest him, he stung one of the officers, while the other one gunned him down.

Fall4Me: So he’s dead, Tyrian’s dead right?

GrimmMonarch: In the police report it indicated he when he attacked one of the officers there to arrest, Turian, his colleague unloaded his entire magazine into him. I can assure you, he is most certainly dead.

~~~~~~

Amogsus: Well that’s depressing.

Kalper: Sounds like he couldn’t differentiate reality from fiction

SuspiciousDucky: Poison? Did he have poison on him?

~~~~~~

Fall4Me: Yes… SuspiciousDucky…

GrimmMonarch: Oh that’s a cute name~!

Fall4Me: Oh it is… Ahem! Yes that is a good question; What did you mean by, ‘His poison was quite effective?’

GrimmMonarch: What has, Tyrian’s character in game?

Fall4Me: He played this lanky scorpion faunas… wait…? Was he an actual scorpion faunas?!

GrimmMonarch: Indeed he was; Poisonous stinger, and all.

Fall4Me: Whoa… Wait, how do you know all of this? Did one of the victims tell you?

GrimmMonarch: Yes, and no. Tyrian said, they betrayed the, ‘Goddess,’ the survivors deduced that he was talking about me. So, I was called in for questioning by the police about this whole fiasco.

Fall4Me: They arrested you?

GrimmMonarch: No, nothing of the sorts. Just asked me some questions regarding, Tyrian’s personality, and the events that lead to this happening. I got to talk to the others who got hurt, and I learned their side of the story. After I received permission from them, and the police I told everyone in the guild what happened. That was where the end began.

~~~~~~

RangerSnake: Wait, Ember you didn’t know about all of this?

Linxder: Yeah, you were in the guild when this happened

7uwu7: Were you?

~~~~~~

Fall4Me looked away from her stream for a moment, before she replied to her chat’s question with a nervous lint to her voice.

Fall4Me: Uhh… No. I had stopped playing the game before this happened. I would have been there when it happened, but some… things happened.

GrimmMonarch: Best leave it at that chat. Now, I told the rest of the members of the, Cabal at a guild meeting what happened. Their reactions were varied, and understandable to the news of what, Tyrian did, and the loss of their friends. I then brought up one of the notions one of the members brought forward as to what the future of the, Cabal should be.

GrimmMonarch: Wether to continue rebuilding the, Cabal, or to disband the, Cabal. It was a unanimous vote to disband the guild… Even I didn’t vote to continue rebuilding the, Cabal. We were as good as dead anyway.

GrimmMonarch: We had one farewell party among us to celebrate the legacy, the good parts that is, that was the, Grimm Cabal. And, after everyone left one by one… all that remained was myself. I contacted the staff, informed them of what had happened, and then I told them to close the, Cabal. And, with that… the, Cabal died.

GrimmMonarch: You know… I always thought the last death cry of the, Cabal would be felt by the whole server as it fought to the death in one glorious battle for the fate of, Remnant itself!

GrimmMonarch: And, yet we left with barely a whisper…

Fall4Me: …

GrimmMonarch: So, there you have it chat; That is the tale of how the, Cabal fell. If those of you who were once players in, WoRHM, know only that the, Cabal was disbanded. Former members of the, Cabal who left the guild, and either returned to their former academies, or restated their account. Considering the nature of why the, Cabal disbanded the members didn’t want to talk about it, and just said, ‘There was an incident with a scorpion.’ Hence where the, ‘Scorpion Incident’ earned its name.

Fall4Me: Wow… I had no idea… I always assumed, Tyrian did something, but I would have never expected that he did that?!

GrimmMonarch: Yes… he did…

~~~~~~

Meol’mucker: Is this the first time, you told anyone about this my, Goddess? Outside of the Cabal that is.

~~~~~~

GrimmMonarch: Oh my~? Calling me a goddess already~? Well, I don’t mind chat, but do show some restraint my dears~!

The chat swiftly exploded into a shower of hearts as the, Grimm Queen smiled sultry at the screen.

GrimmMonarch: But, no, I told the, Headmasters, and Headmistresses of the various academies what happened. I explained to them that the, Cabal was to be disbanded, and the various members would be either restarting their accounts, or simply return back to the academy of their origin. I told them to kindly accept them back in, and to not tell anyone about the, ‘Scorpion Incident.’

Fall4Me: And, you didn’t tell anyone else about all of this?

GrimmMonarch: There was one other who knew; Care to guess who~?

Ember’s model swayed as a brief laugh escaped her lips, she knew precisely who else learned the tale of the, ‘Scorpion Incident.’ After all, he had a knack for finding out about such things.

Fall4Me: Tell me my, Lady. How did, Errant learn about the fall of the, Cabal?

~~~~~~

7uwu7: Ha!

Amongsus: Knew it

DaSting: Who else but him?

emptythrone: That guy really gets around

~~~~~~

GrimmMonarch: Oh, how did you know it was him~?

Fall4Me: My darling wolf had the reputation across the server as an information broker. He had the most uncanny ability to find out about the most minuet of details that happened on the other side of the world.

GrimmMonarch: Indeed he did. Despite never seeing my human form before, he was able to instantly identify me in my human form, and I had not even said hello to him at that.

Fall4Me: ‘Human form?’

GrimmMonarch: What? Did you think that I always had this beautiful appearance you see before you?

Fall4Me: Well… that makes sense. But, I’ve never seen you in any other form, but the one I see before me. I never say you as a…

GrimmMonarch: As a what…?

GrimmMonarch: A human?

At the click of a button, the LadyofDarkness, The GrimmMonarch’s body changed, no longer was she a monster of death, and despair. Now lay before them for all to see was a lady of elegance that exuded an air of royalty that was unmatched by all those who stood before her. And, yet… when one looked into her eyes, one couldn’t help but see a sad little girl, longing for something forever out of her reach.

~~~~~~

Meol’mucker: YOOOOO!!!

7uwu7:😍😍😍

Laven: Damn!

ICSTARS: Who said she can be so hot!

RangerSnake: Smash

~~~~~~

Fall4Me: Ohh~! You look beautiful your grace!

GrimmMonarch: Thank you, Ember. This was the form I adopted before, and after the, Cabal. It is what I always imagined what, The Girl in the Tower’ looked like when I read that short story.

Fall4Me: ‘Fairytales of the World of Remnant?’

GrimmMonarch: That’s the one, in fact whilst I was using this skin, I went by the name, EVAnora, or EVA for short.

Fall4Me: That’s a nice name.

GrimmMonarch: Thank you~! Now, back to our, Knight. He stumbled upon me as I was slaying some, Beowulfs, small fry, hardly anything to worry about. Anyway, he walked over, and said, ‘I bare glad tidings to the, the LadyofDarkness, the Queen of Grimm.’

Fall4Me: …?

Fall4Me: Pfff! Ah-hahahaha~! Did he really say that?

GrimmMonarch: Indeed he did! It was so ridiculous I couldn’t help, but laugh at it as well. Despite, Errant’s reserved demeanour, he can be quite the endearing character when he wants to.

Fall4Me: Quite so, I’ve seen him converse with fellow players, he can be quite the smooth talker when he wants to. It’s can be quite scary at times…

GrimmMonarch: Are you referring to the time he swindled, Vacuo’s merchant guild into revealing where the slave camps were, or the time he caused the falling out of, Dazzling Spear Hunter Teams?

Fall4Me: Wait?! He did that?! I was talking about the time he tricked the, Crimson Brigade into attack the bandits base during the, Season of Fire event, that triggered a Grimm Horde event?!

GrimmMonarch: He did what?!

[shady-tavern]

A Deal of Games

Requested by anonymous, I very much hope this story is what you were hoping for! Small warning ahead for brief, implied murder.

*.*.*

The warning came with an exhausted rider on the back of their sweaty, trembling horse. Bandits were coming over the mountains and not just any rogue group, but an entire, well organized and supplied warband. Armed and armored and trained and two villages were already burning.

"They’re going to be here by tomorrow, they want to challenge the king and queen," the rider rasped, lying in the arms of the local blacksmith. "Run, flee and warn everyone along the way. I just barely made it out alive."

The villagers exchanged fearful, panicked glances and you knew immediately fleeing would be the ruin of many, if not most of the people you knew. Many here were old and while they had rich, fertile land, they had very little coin. Most people you knew could not afford to leave their homes behind.

You could see it in your mind’s eye already, as did the people around you, considering their expressions. All those homes burnt to the ground, warm houses nothing but ash and rubble, cinder for some cruel heart to burn brighter.

Everything around you would be nothing but fuel for the flames of the greed that had driven those bandits to come here and attack everyone.

Already you could see some of the elder folks exchanging grim looks, before peering at their grandchildren, at the worried soon-to-be-parents of their families.

You could see the decisions they came to, silent and heavy, as though they had already kneeled and bared their throats for death’s scythe. Going quietly into the night, holding prayers for the survival of their loved ones in their hearts.

You could see the downright desperate determination of the strong and capable, the young and spry, who did not miss the way their old and sick family members looked.

The way fists balled in helpless anger, teeth grit in bitter fury and eyes grew dark with the fist bloom of heart-rotting, soon-to-be-born hatred. They looked as though they wanted to reach out and grip the strands of fate with all they had and force the weave of the world into submission. 

To take those strands and strangle whatever careless, unfeeling god was responsible for the world being just a little cracked. As if someone powerful had shattered a once loving existence and had used cruelty to glue the edges back together.

There were no fighters in the village, only two hunters who were indeed quite skilled, but they would fall swiftly should they even attempt to stop the bandits. 

Running into the woods and hiding until the warband was gone was not an option either, not with the creatures that lived there. Not with how deeply everyone would have to go to hide, to not be found.

They’d run from one death to straight into another. One that might end up being even crueler in the end.

But…you turned to look towards the mountains at the back of the village, that last, sharp jutting of stone and rock before the mountain range cut off entirely. If you turned the other way you could see smoke rising in the distance, homes already burnt to the ground. 

Where death marched towards your home with steel weapons and muddy boots and hearts that beat like war drums, filling veins and bones with the song of delighted blood thirst and greedy violence.

There was one thing you could do. Attempt to do, even if it was reckless and dangerous and might just cost you everything. But…everything was already lost and you had to try.

You had to try for old Miriam and Jamil, who had taught you the fine art of whittling and woodcraft, helping your hands shape beautiful things out of wood until your art was the envy of many a traveler.

For your elderly parents, your father who had complained about his sore back just this morning and your mother who had sprained her foot chasing the goose out of the house and slipping on a rag. For your friends and their families, who had always welcomed you to warm dinners and laughter around the fireplace.

For the home you loved.

"I’ll go speak with the dragon," you said just as the mayor, a rotund, quick-witted woman who had led the village through many troubling times, was about to speak up.

"We have nothing to offer," the miller cut in, bouncing his toddler on his hip, the little boy looking about ready to bawl at how tense and scared and angry everyone was. "And if you anger him, all of us will be dead before the bandits even arrive."

You knew your neighbor wasn’t wrong, that no one had been able to make a deal with the dragon ever since it had settled down on the mountain. People had tried, but had come back terrified and cowed. So far, as long as no one hunted in the dragon’s territory, he hadn’t shown up to eat your neighbor’s livestock either.

But the dragon was the only creature you could think of to ask for aid. The only one who had shown a clear 'do not bother me and I will not bother you' mentality, whereas the other creatures in the forest had been nothing but tricky and nasty and darkly hungry.

The village had no riches to offer the dragon and it hadn’t been interested in being offered any sacrifices in the past either, neither animal nor human. The dragon wanted nothing the village had, but maybe…maybe you could promise to get the dragon something else. 

You’d abandon your life, leave your parents and friends and neighbors and teachers behind to go on long, arduous journeys, if only it meant they all got to live.

So when everyone hurried to pack, calling out to children still playing in the field, whistling for the shepherd who had watched from a distance without leaving her herd, you slipped away.

It was easy enough to grab the plough horse of your parents, a patient mare named Rika who had let you learn riding on her broad, strong back. Nothing had scared her for as long as she had been on the farm and she was always friendly and steadfast, never so much as stumbling over stones or roots. 

She was the keeper of many of your secrets and had allowed you to cry into her mane after you had gotten your heart broken last year. She sensed your urgency now and watched closely as you got the saddle and bridle, feeding her a quick treat before you tacked her up.

"Son." Your father’s voice made you flinch in surprise and turn sharply on your heels. He stood in the entrance of the stable, frowning in grim worry. "Please, tell me you won’t do something foolish."

"Of course not," you answered. You had never lied much to your parents, they were always so loving and supportive of you that it simply wasn’t necessary, but in return, they never expected you to lie the few times you did. "I was just getting her ready so we can leave. Mama can’t walk after all."

Your father’s face eased in relief and now he just looked tired and scared. "Thank you, my boy. Go and put her in front of the cart, this way we can take a few more things with us. Maybe a neighbor or two too."

Though even as he said it, his gaze slid away guiltily. There would be few things your parents would be able to take along if they didn’t want to weight their mare down too much. Slow her down too much.

She’d get tired faster and even if she was strong and enduring, none of you knew how long you’d have to run, how far you had to flee, before you were safe again.

Your grip tightened on her reins and you nodded and your father turned around to hurry into the house. For a moment you considered staying where you were, putting Rika in front of the cart and helping your parents escape. If you did end up angering the dragon there was no hope for anyone, this way at least most people of the village would hopefully get to live.

But it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that just because other people were stronger, had the training and had the willingness to hurt and kill carved into their hearts, that you and your loved ones had to suffer. No, you wanted to help. You wanted everyone to keep the lives they had.

So you got on Rika’s back, took a deep breath and urged her out of the stable into the farm courtyard. She was smart and obedient and your urgency made her move faster than she usually did. You heard your father shout, but by then you were already galloping down the road and towards the forest.

More people shouted behind you, calling you back, asking where you went, if everything was alright. You didn’t stop for any of them and before you knew it, the shadow of the forest fell over you and you urged your horse to go faster. You had to hurry to reach the dragon, the sooner he might be willing to help, the better.

You were covered in sweat, as was Rika, when at last a rocky animal-trail came into view, leading up the mountains towards a cavern high up. The dragon’s home. It was probably terribly rude to just climb up and brazenly enter his den, but you had no idea if the dragon could hear you if you shouted from down here.

So you urged Rika onward and she climbed as swift and steady as she pulled the plough, her strong body hauling you along as though you might be a mere sack of grain and you held on, making sure to do your best to aid her and watch out for any trouble along the way.

She must’ve smelled the dragon as you neared the cave, for she grew restless and hesitant for the first time. You pressed a hand to her neck, steadying and calming her and she snorted before moving on. Trusting you to guide her, trusting your judgement to keep her safe. You hoped that trust wasn’t misplaced.

At long last you reached the entrance and slid out of the saddle, your legs nearly buckling. You hadn’t ridden that long or that hard in months and you were getting tired, but determination and worry and fear ensured you’d keep going for a while longer.

"Wait here," you whispered, throwing her reins over a rock as she caught her breath from the climb. You touched her nose and her ears perked, focusing on you. "Thank you, so much."

With those words you hurried into the cave, the air immediately growing cool as you left the sunlight and you could see marks of the dragon’s presence everywhere. For one, the walls had gotten worn down to look smooth and pretty lines and swirls and strange marks had been carved along the ceiling. The floor was the only rougher part of the cave, shallow claw marks left in the stone.

At the end of the hallway you could see the glow of light, too steady to be fire, but it couldn’t be sunlight either, not with how deep into the rock the dragon’s home was built.

"Who dares," deep, threatening voice rumbled along the hallway, making all your hair stand on end. "Steps too heavy to belong to a thief, too light for a knight and I can hear your breathing as though you were running, little intruder. Leave, this is your last warning."

"Please," your voice came out stronger than you had thought and you drew to your full height, heart pounding in your chest, hard enough to make you feel its beat in your very bones. "All I ask is that you hear me out."

A long beat of heavy silence, then an equally heavy exhale followed, almost a sigh. "Very well. Make it quick, I don’t have all afternoon."

You had no idea what dragons were up to in their free time, but you weren’t going to risk being rude and ask. You hurried forward and before you knew it you entered the dragon’s home properly. It was, in a way, breathtakingly beautiful.

Large, golden stones glowed along the ceiling and walls, looking as though someone had unearthed them with great care and then polished them to shiny perfection. They were set perfectly into place to illuminate everything, the massive, smoothed down cavern walls and domed ceiling decorated with more carvings, these inlaid with gems and shiny gold and silver.

And most of all, they illuminated the dragon himself. Imposing and impressive and frightening as he was, you still couldn’t help but think that he was beautiful. In the same way a silver-steeled dagger with a jeweled hilt was beautiful, the way a storm was mesmerizing in its wild power. 

He was breathtaking in a way you had last felt balancing along the edge of the tallest roof while tipsy, your friends egging you on until you had made a handstand right at the edge, feeling the pull of gravity. That almost-sense of nearly falling but keeping yourself balanced at the last second.

Eyes the color of molten gold were fixed on you and the dragon’s green scales shimmered like layered emerald and jade, veins of gold running through them and reminding you of the way sunlight fell through the canopy and danced along the mossy forest floor.

Gentle heat was emanating from the dragon, turning an otherwise cold cavern into something softly, comfortably warm.

"You are very brave, little one," he rumbled and with a start you remembered why you had come here and what for. The dragon shifted to peer down at you, lips lightly pulled back to reveal sharp teeth, while the tips of his claws lightly scratched across the ground, marking the floor so easily the stone might as well have been made of mud. His tail was lashing behind him in impatience and growing irritation.

"I’m willing to offer anything you want in exchange for your help," you hurried to say, almost stumbling over the words. "Bandits will attack and…and we can’t fight back."

The dragon’s face was unexpectedly expressive, you had to admit, when he exhaled in a near-scoff and leaned back as though the conversation was already over in his mind. "You have nothing of interest you could offer me. Leave."

As he turned, clearly dismissing you, you saw what had been shielded with the bulk of his body. His hoard, but where you had heard stories of massive riches, of enough gold to buy two kingdoms and immortality too if you felt like it, at first all you saw was wood inlaid with polished bits of stone. But, no, that wasn’t just wood, those were board games. Countless ones, ones you were familiar with and many you were not.

They were very carefully placed and clearly not for the dragon to sleep on top of, or everything would have turned to splinters after a single attempt. They weren’t in a pile either, but sorted in a way that actually allowed easy access to each and every one. As though the dragon used them, but as far as you knew, he rarely, if ever, had visitors. To your knowledge, other dragons visited only once every other year and the other monsters in the forest would be more inclined to steal things than sit down a round or two of gameplay. 

"I could be your board game partner." The words slipped out without much mind, a last-ditch effort that you were surprised to find you actually meant. 

You had a couple of board games at home yourself, but people rarely sat down to play with you, if ever. Your friends lacked the patience or the enthusiasm and preferred to visit the tavern and your parents were usually too busy and tired. 

You couldn’t count the amount of times you wished you had had someone to play with, a quiet longing you kept tucked into a lonely corner of your heart. A passion you couldn’t share with anyone but couldn’t give up on either.

The dragon’s head snapped around and his eyes narrowed dangerously and he snarled, "You can take your pity -"

"No one plays with me either," you said, immediately cringing inward when you realized that you had interrupted him. You might not make it down the mountain alive after all. But when the dragon just stared, you found yourself continuing, "My friends don’t have the patience and my parents are too busy most days and, well, playing by myself just…makes me sad."

Your voice had grown soft on the last few words. Sad and lonely. Some days you didn’t even want to look at your games, knowing you’d only get excited about them for no reason. And the following disappointment when everyone told you 'not today, maybe later' when you asked if they wanted to play with you would hit all the harder.

There must’ve been something on your face or in your voice, for the dragon’s tension slowly eased away as he watched you, eyes still narrowed but gaze more contemplative.

"One evening every week," he said and hope crashed into your chest like a thunderstorm, electrifying your veins and stealing your breath away, sweeping you along with a heavy, thrumming relief.

"Make that two," you said, a smile appearing on your face and the dragon threw his head back, laughing in startled surprise. It made the ground rumble and you couldn’t help but feel your smile morph into a grin.

"Deal," he said, easing down a bit to better look at you. He offered a grin of his own, all dagger-sharp teeth and nature-wild danger and the back of his throat faintly glowed with fire. "Where are your bandits?"

You told him and he rumbled, ushering you out of his home and telling you to go back to your village. And if, on the way back, you had to wipe a few tears of relief and gratitude away, there was no one but your patient, steady horse to see it. And she surely wouldn’t tell on you, she’d been keeping all your secrets safe for years after all.

Just as you left the forest to see the entire village in a flurry of panicked packing and tearful arguing, you heard a roar thunder across the sky. Everyone’s heads snapped up, yours included and you saw the dragon rise from his mountain, turning a slow half circle before he seemed to spot something, taking off into the distance.

Your breath shivered out of you in relief and you sagged onto Rika’s neck, briefly pressing your face into her warm mane that smelled like horse and hay.

Your parents were already waiting for you, packed bags and satchels at their feet and they grabbed you as soon as you got out of the saddle, pulling you into tight hugs.

"My brave, impossible boy," your mother whispered, tears in her eyes. "Did the dragon…" At your nod she briefly closed her eyes, relief and worry warring on her face. "What did you offer him?"

"I’ll visit twice a week," you said, gripping their arms reassuringly when worried frowns made their brows furrow. "It’s nothing bad, I promise. It seems I had something to offer after all."

You weren’t going to tell them what, not when it felt like the dragon’s loneliness was a sore spot to him. Not when it touched upon a sore spot of your own, that little corner of lonely sadness when you had no one to truly share your passions with.

Within two hours the dragon returned, roaring once and by evening another rider appeared, sweaty and exhausted but grinning fiercely.

"The bandits are defeated!" they shouted as they rode through the village, only slowing down long enough to deliver the message before moving on to the next place. "The warband is no more!"

The entire village celebrated like never before and you slept like a baby that night.

*.*.*

The first time you showed up at the dragon’s cave, things were a bit stilted and after a game had been chosen, you had almost let the dragon win. Until you remembered how much it sucked to not be taken seriously, to feel like playing games was a chore for the other person. To not be challenged when it was so much fun to not have to hold back.

The dragon was certainly challenge enough for you and with every meeting you noticed him relax more and more. Soon he was talking freely, letting you choose what games you’d like to try and teaching you the ones you had never seen before.

There was no need to bite back your excitement about the games around him, your enthusiasm and your love. If anything, he matched you beat for beat, the two of you getting lost in the shared joy for hours. It grew to the point where Rika had to neighing loudly because she was hungry and wanted to get home to remind you that it was getting late.

"I’ll come by again tomorrow," you said and the dragon blinked in surprise.

"You have already been here twice this week," he reminded you and you couldn’t help but snort.

"As long as I don’t bother you, I’m coming over. I’m having too much fun." Your grin was toothy, your entire being downright lit-up with how much you had enjoyed yourself.

The dragon blinked, head tipping to watch you, then he smiled. "Be welcome, then, whenever you wish."

"You’re going to regret that," you warned him, still grinning and he laughed, a rumbling sound from deep within his chest.

"Oh, I doubt it," he answered and the gold in his eyes seemed to glow brighter. "I highly doubt it."

So you came back the next day and before you knew it, you spent most of your free time with the dragon, your parents sending you off with fond smiles and your friends reminding you to still meet them on the weekend for your usual get-together.

Rika was long since used to the trek up the mountain and she walked swifter and faster with every time, carrying you without complaint.

As summer turned to autumn you realized you had made the most wonderful friend by approaching the dragon. What had started out as a mutually beneficial deal had grown to be so, so much more. You were happy every time you saw him and the dragon understood you on a level that no one else did. 

For as kind as the people in the village were, for as much as your parents loved you and your friends wanted you around, greeting you with grins and waving you over whenever they saw you, the dragon just…got you. 

All the parts of you that had fit kind of awkwardly before, all the little things about you that people had accepted but hadn’t known what to do with, all your secret little hopes and yearnings, everything seemed to have a place here. With him.

You realized you weren’t the only one who felt that way when you arrived at the cavern to see that a makeshift stall for Rika had been built outside, to keep her safe and dry. There was even quite the amount of grass piled up for her to munch on. 

And when you stepped inside you saw piles of pillows and blankets on the ground, decadent enough that they should have belonged to an emperor. There was a keg of water as well, a couple of bottles of wine and mead and a new shelf, holding dried meats and cheese wheels and herbs and bread and beside it stood sacks with vegetables and fruits.

"From my sister," the dragon said, rumbling at you in welcome. "She’s happy I found someone like you and when she visited last night she insisted on making you more comfortable."

If his sister had shown up after sundown it explained why no one in the village had noticed another dragon’s presence. She must have left while it had been dark as well and it made you wonder if the dragon had more visitors than expected if most of them visited at night.

"Thank you, that’s very sweet," you said and the dragon grinned, head perking in a pleased manner. "And thank you for caring for my horse as well."

"Of course," the dragon said like it was common sense. "I care about the things you care about."

He told you stories that day while you played. About growing up among his egg siblings and playful parents who had taught them all to defend what was theirs no matter what. Fierce and unapologetic.

He told you about his travels until he had found the perfect spot to settle down in, how his parents had been the ones to gift him his first game when he had shown little interest in the other riches they presented him with.

"It’s customary to help the hatchlings start their own hoard," he explained when you asked, curious about customs among dragons. "How to collect and care for it and develop a fine eye for what is worth keeping."

The way he looked at you when he said that made a giddy warmth rise within your chest. You smiled back at him and found yourself telling stories of your own. Before you knew it, you told the dragon everything, even the things you had only ever told Rika in the past.

He never judged you for anything and laughed at your jokes and always asked how you were doing, what your day had been like. He was so very genuinely interested in you and your life and the things you loved.

And as autumn became winter and the trek up the mountain took longer, he coiled around you to warm you back up every time. You leaned against his scales, swaddled in thick blankets and sitting atop your soft pillows and as you soaked up his heat, you realized that you had fallen in love.

You played together, forgetting the time and when you heard Rika grow restless, thick snowfall had begun to cover the mountain. It was too dangerous to ride back in that weather and it was getting dark too quickly.

"Stay the night," the dragon offered and showed you a spot where you could put Rika, so she’d be dry and warm and comfortable. You handed her an arm full of apples and some of the oats kept in a sack and she nudged your arm before eating.

The dragon seemed excited to have you over, nudging at the pillows and blankets over and over until he seemed satisfied and curled up around them. You had to laugh and sat down with him after grabbing yourself dinner and something to drink.

You talked for hours, until your eyes started to grow heavy and you couldn’t stop yawning.

"Sleep well," the dragon rumbled quietly, curling more around you until you were surrounded by heat and comfort. "I will guard your rest and your dreams."

He was so very, very sweet.

The next morning, while the dragon left to hunt, you put away the board game from last night and that was when you noticed something that had been carefully put away. A broken game. The top of the wooden casing was splintered and a number of the figurines and pieces used for playing were cracked apart inside.

It was such a beautiful game too, the wood painted carefully and the playing board was even inlaid with shining metals and polished marble and some of the game elements were carved out of horn and bone. You would have paid a fortune had you tried to buy that from a trader.

You heard the dragon return and straightened with the broken game in your hands just as he entered, carrying the satisfied air of a successful hunt.

"What happened to this one?" you asked and for the first time, you saw true sadness on his face.

"It was one of my first gifts," he said quietly. "From my grandparents, shortly before they were slain by knights. I was…rather upset. I accidentally destroyed it and I’ve been unable to let go of it."

"It’s beautiful," you said and he hummed, a low, subdued rumble. 

"Despite being broken it’s one of my most precious pieces," he added, gently nudging your shoulder. "Come on, put it back and get yourself something to eat, the weather has cleared enough for you to head home."

You set the game down with utmost care and the somber mood was soon replaced with chatter as the dragon asked you about your plans for the day. As you got read to leave, he briefly pressed his forehead to yours.

"Safe travels," he said quietly. "I will await your return."

You reached out to hug him and left with Rika soon after, arriving just in time to get ready for work. But even as the days passed you couldn’t bring yourself to forget about the broken game so loved your dragon couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. You ended up spending the night more often, especially when the weather grew bad or it was too late and you didn’t want to ride home in the dark.

Your parents just laughed and told you to introduce the dragon to them one day if he was growing to be so important to you. Considering the knowing looks they sent you, they had absolutely caught on to your feelings. You waved them off, though you couldn’t help but smile a little, feeling quietly happy and pleased.

And then the winter solstice came around and with it a festival to celebrate the end of long, dark nights. The point where winter would turn towards spring and even if it would snow for some time yet, you knew the weather would grow warm again before long.

It was your woodworking teachers who gave you the idea for a gift for the dragon and you hid your sketchbook in your coat when you visited and stayed the night. You waited until the dragon had fallen asleep before very carefully climbing out of the nest of pillows and blankets and over his tail, tiptoeing over to his hoard.

You sketched and measured everything, handling the broken game with utmost care and once you were done, you hid the sketchbook in your coat again and cuddled up to your dragon, who rumbled in satisfaction in his sleep. So very sweet indeed.

It thankfully wasn’t too hard to get all the necessary materials and while old Miriam and Jamil didn’t lend a hand they gave you a few pointers and tips and you spent hours bent over wood and bone, bugging the blacksmith for his help with metalwork. 

And then, on the night of the festival, you celebrated with your friends and family and just after the large fires had been lit, you snuck away, a wrapped parcel in your coat pockets. You had timed things well, arriving just as your dragon had left to hunt.

You pulled out the parcel and the broken game and carefully removed the broken top, replacing it with the one you had made. Afterwards you carefully took out the broken pieces and inserted the new ones you had made. In the end the game looked hale and whole and only if you looked hard enough could you see a difference between old and new parts.

You didn’t throw the old things away, that wasn’t your place. Instead, you left them on a silk cloth and set up the game in your usual playing spot, waiting for the dragon to return.

It didn’t take long and he called out your name in surprised delight before he even entered his cave, his golden eyes bright.

"I did not expect you today," he said with a warm rumble, only to still, those sharp eyes falling to the game set up in front of you. He was so silent you were unsure if he was even breathing at all.

"I, uh, hope I didn’t overstep?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit unsure. "I just…I can put it back to how it was, don’t worry."

"You did this?" the dragon asked, his voice the quietest you had ever heard it as he slowly stepped forward, green and gold scales shining like a living forest in the glow of his golden stones. "For me?"

You nodded, picking up one of the pieces you had made, holding it out to him. "I know how much this game means to you and I wanted to make you happy."

The dragon eyed the piece in your hand, looking reluctant to reach out and touch it himself. He did at last, carefully turning it over between his claws.

"It looks just like I remember," he said, voice quiet and there was a near purring rumble underlining the words. "It’s beautiful. Who made all this?"

"I did," you answered and his eyes snapped to you, suddenly sharper and brighter and fiercer than ever before. You couldn’t help but smile. "I did tell you I’m a woodworker."

The dragon set the piece down ever so carefully, then leaned close to press his forehead to yours, your arms rising to hug his head as much as possible.

"Please allow me to court you," he said quietly, smelling like the winter winds outside, his heat warming your entire chest as his words made your breath catch. "I’ve been trying hard to hold back how I feel, but after this -"

"Yes," you blurted out, grinning and then laughing, closing your eyes and nuzzling your face against his scales. "Absolutely, yes."

The dragon rumbled, a noise that would have sounded fierce and intimidating hadn’t you known him so well. It was a sound of deep, bottomless joy and he pressed closer, his tail swinging around, the end coiling around your waist.

"Then I will," he said quietly. "I vow to bring you happiness and fulfill as many of your wishes as I possibly can."

You were smiling so much your cheeks hurt and your heart had grown wings of gold and light in your chest, soaring high and strong. "Keep playing games with me," you said quietly. "And hold my heart with care, that’s all I want."

"For all my days," your dragon vowed. "Will you accept mine in return?"

"For all my days," you answered, hugging him fiercer. "For as long as this life lasts."

You had every intention to share as many joys with this dragon, your dragon, as you could. To hold him and be held in return, to love freely and fearlessly and know you and your heart and soul would be held safe and secure. That there was someone who saw you as you were and wanted you exactly like that.

And deep down you knew, this life would be a very long and very happy life indeed.

*.*.*

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[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Just saw your thunder empress and besides wanting more of her, there's a character i really wonder what they would do in that situation. What if it was Cinder that went back in time? Would she even want to come back to remnant? Would she mellow down?

But i still also want more Nora

This may be my greatest Alternative Rusted Knight yet!

Blake: *Raising Gambol Shroud* Cinder.

Weiss: *Readying Glyphs* We don't want to fight-

The Wildfire Mage: Then I would be most gracious if you were to lower your weapons!

Yang: *Guarding Ruby* What? Why would we do that?

The Wildfire Mage: *Brushing the hair out of her face* Because I am not this "Cinder" you speak of - That name is familiar, but I cannot recall where i might've heard it before.

_WBY: *wary glances at each other*

Ruby: Are- Are You okay?

The Wildfire Mage: I ... my memory is, as always, somewhat faulty, but putting that aside for the moment, I am quite well! More than that, despite your mistaken belief that I am "Cinder", I am quite happy to see more humans! The last two I met were so ... So ...

Blake: Do you think more people than Alyx have fallen down here?

Weiss: Well ... We did?

Yang: She's just been staring into the distance for a minute now.

Ruby: Uhm, excuse me? Miss Mage?

The Wildfire Mage: Hmm? Oh! Yes! You four! I should count myself Lucky to meet such prolific Hunters given the seeming Multiplication of Jabberwockers! It's very well, given Lewis and ... And Alyx ... uh ... were ...

The Wildfire Mage: ...

The Wildfire Mage: They were but Children! They should not have had to escape such horrid beasts, much like the kind they informed me of from their home! With so many Deadly being running about back there, I see not why they would want to leave the Ever After and return to "Remnant!"

The Wildfire Mage: After all here is safe, sound, and protected from ... from ...

The Wildfire Mage: ... Uh, again my apologies, My mind is scattered as ashes to Wind! perhaps we should head to my home - quickly, before it becomes too dark to travel!

~In the Punderstorm~

Reflection: What are you doing ...

The Wildfire Mage: Why do you follow me? Hear your voice in those moments-

Reflection: We are strong now ... Need no one ...

The Wildfire Mage: To be alone is to suffer; I know you know that.

Reflection: Alyx ... She wrote lewis out of her story ... She is like us-

The Wildfire Mage: She may be like you But I am no liar, nor a Deciever! You are a cruel, injured being. Leave me be.

Reflection: I am you.

The Wildfire Mage: By what means?

Reflection: I am your Truth. You Restrain us, when we are strong enough to do whatever we want!

The Wildfire Mage: Indeed We are, And I quite enjoy the freedom to be kind.

Reflection: Kindness is WEAKNESS.

The Wildfire Mage: It is as much as solitude.

~The next day, after getting attacked by Neo and her Jabberwockers~

The Wildfire Mage: So many souls ... Those - Those Jabberwockers are chasing you!

Ruby: I- I-

The Wildfire Mage: What? YOU WHAT?

The Wildfire Mage: All you ever do is get in my way! You ruin all of my PLANS You PETULANT, SELFISH GIRL!

The Wildfire Mage: You help EVERYONE but ME!

The Wildfire Mage: And of course NEO-

The Wildfire Mage: ... Neo ...

_WBY: *Ready weapons*

The Wildfire Mage: I ... I remember you all now ...

Cinder: ... I ... I remember myself now ...

Cinder: ... Leave. I don't know how to get to the tree. I don't care. Here? In the Ever After? No one is after me - No one was ...

Cinder: I'm sick of this. I'm sick of facing you. Leave.

Weiss: Really? Just like that? After everything you've done to us-

Cinder: Yes. Now go before I change my mind on fighting you.

WBY: ...

Yang: *Collapsing Ember Celica* Fine. We'll go.

Blake: ... Thank you for not fighting us Cinder.

Weiss: Are you two Serious! She's nearly Killed me before!

Yang: Adam Nearly Killed us! If we fight her, someone isn't making it out of here! I- We- I don't-

Blake: *Taking Yang's hand* We don't want more blood on our hands Weiss. Even if we win, we just prove her right.

Weiss: ... Fine. Ruby Where do we- Ruby? RUBY!

~Later~

Cinder: *Making Tea for herself*

Reflection: They could use our assistance.

Cinder: Shouldn't you be locked in a punderstorm?

Wildfire Mage: We are strong enough to do whatever we desire. I do not wish to be heard in lacking moments.

Cinder: Fine. Why Should we help them?

Wildfire Mage: They need it.

Cinder: They've never helped me.

Wildfire Mage: You've only hurt them.

Cinder: Well that's just not fair for me to have to help them when no one's ever helped me!

Wildfire Mage: It is not. Alyx was an active hinderance - you lied and deceived them into believing you were Me, so that you could follow them on their story, to escape.

Cinder: ... And?

Wildfire Mage: Your heart is full of rage. Justified against the world, but not those you've hurt most. So many have fallen by your hand, so many that lived good lives, that, if they were given the chance, would've saved you.

Cinder: ...

Wildfire Mage: You hate the thought of kindness because you never experienced it. It infuriates you because it's given to all others.

Wildfire Mage: Every burning thought has been brought about by those that control you. Your arm was as much a collar as Madam's, burning and binding you to your master's will.

Wildfire Mage: You have no master now, aside from yourself.

Cinder: And why should I listen to you.

Wildfire Mage: I am your truth. They restrained us, and now we are strong enough to do whatever we want.

Cinder: ... I want to be free ... I want freedom ...

Wildfire Mage: Then kindness will be our strength, but only if we share it with them, and they share it with us.

~~~~~

REDEMPTION ARC REDEMPTION ARC REDEMPTION ARC-

[epic-arc]

Summing up jaune's crossover ships 3 ''Return of the milfs''

(WARNING THIS POST IS FOR COMEDY ONLY! I'M NOT CRITICIZING YOUR SHIP OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT!)

1- Farm Arc (Idea by @true-king-of-monsters)

Looks at nora with suspicion NORA WHAT KIND OF DARK MAGIC YOU ARE USING IN JAUNE HAIR?!

2- Golden Demon or Evil Arkos

If you read the chainsaw man manga. You know how bad this woman is and I know that she would be worse than cinder for jaune.

3- Snake Lover

(I put her two variants because I thought it was better for the list) Congratulations jaune now if you are hugged by your girlfriend you might get crushed.

4- Great Inheritances

I say one thing about this ship ''i'll be your mommy~''

5- Gamer Duo

''ah yes me my girlfriend and her 1000 dollar giant mecha'' Fun fact, this one is one of my favorite crossover ships.

6- Vampire Hunter

So we press f in the chat because Jaune didn't survive this one.

7-Blood Knight

This would be like Ship Jaune with a Ruby and Nora fusion but more chaotic.

8- Angel Knight

I love it but I feel pain from this ship because the way Jaune shows his love and through touch but if he touches Angel he could end up dying.

9/10- Fusion I think this is one of the funniest concepts I've ever done

I think this is one of the funniest concepts I've ever done.

[sinisterexaggerator]

Hello there!

I am here to ease ya'll into my favorite ship:

Banaka (Cad Bane x Hondo Ohnaka)

Best in the Bunch.

I have so much planned for these two in a fanfic I am only just beginning to write (that spans Cad Bane's entire life), but conversations with @allsystemsblue led me to write this fluff scenario and I could not stop myself.

Pretend that what you are reading is based on an already well-established relationship. Bane shows affection by acts of service and gift giving, as his feelings are something he has trouble with expressing. The rest is self-indulgent garbage.

I should mention this is not how the rest of said fic will go. This is a one-off just for fun. You can expect angst, drama, hurt, comfort, toxic relationships, violence and smut in the future.

Credit goes to Teeth for the idea that Hondo, while not believing in the God Quay, still finds comfort in performing magicks for his own peace of mind.

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: None. Fluff, a kiss, and a lot of negativity on Bane's part.

He didn’t know a thing about them, flowers, only that they might come in useful for a certain predicament he had found himself in, as it seemed most sentient beings thought the seed-bearing parts of plants—consisting of its reproductive organs, mind you—were somehow beautiful.

He supposed he could see it, what with their bright-colored corollas, petals coming in all shapes and sizes, typically paired with a calyx as green as his own blood. That was only on some planets. On others, they were red, or blue. Purple. Indigo.

On Florrum, they came in various shades of orange, or yellow, a rarity after an even rarer desert downpour.

Fragile is what they were, and a waste of money. The resources used to farm them could be utilized in more efficient ways. Perhaps he would like the wild ones better, though to pull weeds as a manner of apology didn’t seem good enough. Didn’t seem thoughtful enough. He was sure the Weequay would run him out.

Then again, apologizing wasn’t something he often did, as Bane rarely meant not to do something he had set his mind to. Only this time, he had hurt Ohnaka’s feelings.

Feelings. Hondo had too many, and maybe Bane had too few. Callous one might call him, insensitive another. Cynical was more like it; tired; disillusioned. Yet rare was the man who could crack him open to show him what lay beneath; like a geode, Ohnaka exposed his insides, revealing to Bane all the pretty bits he never would have known existed.

And Bane did care, if only when it suited him. If only on his terms. But this time, he cared because Hondo did. It was partially anathema, this caring, yet he did it anyway, unable to coax his mind to let their little squabble go.

To the pirate, it had been more than that, Bane insulting his very heritage. He didn’t understand the tiny dolls he kept, the archaic sources of illumination that were made of wax and smelled like things Bane could not identify, nor the bits and scraps of flimsi that had been burned to cinders.

These things decorated a small table, resting atop an ornate cloth; Bane had touched it much to the pirate’s chagrin, then disrespected his arcane practice, ridiculing his efforts to appease some nonexistent deity in order to bring about Bane’s good luck.

His job was dangerous, but the hunter was unaware he was being prayed for behind closed doors. Somehow, that had irritated him, more so as he didn’t understand it, thinking Hondo must be attempting to commit himself to witchcraft like those little ladies that lived on Dathomir.

“What’s with dhis nonsense. Ain’t no use in doin’ dhat,” he remembered saying; a poor choice of words to one who meant no ill will.

He understood that now, if nothing else. So what if Hondo lit a candle for him. Who was he to say he hadn’t lived to hunt another day because of it? It was possible the only thing keeping Bane alive besides his street smarts and good aim was the Weequay’s magicks; Bane shuddered to think that was the case.

Even so, here he was, holding a bouquet tightly in one hand and his hat’s brim in the other, deigning to do what he felt might be ignored. This was nothing more than a gesture to barter passage into the pirate king’s good graces—an act of service on his part, the buying of them—for in the here and now, there was nothing more he wished to accomplish in this life. Had you told him he would be doing this a year ago, he would have laughed himself hoarse, or worse yet, right into an early grave.

Yes, flowers. Expensive, frail, and pointless. He had chosen the prettiest of those assembled according to his tastes, selecting a color he assumed was the dummy’s favorite: red.

Ladalums were scarce and imported from Alderaan, a fact he’d learned upon their purchase. They would only bloom if pollinated on their homeworld; these were fresh off the cargo freight, able to last months if given the right treatment.

That was one good thing about them—once out of his hands, the rest was up to the pirate to take care of. He was good at that, Bane mused—caring for things.

Eyes and heads—not dissimilar from all the others that populated this chamber of sorts—turned to look at this bounty hunter who relunctantly proceeded with his walk of shame. Bane would bite back all his nasty words, even as members of Hondo's gang jeered and snickered at his expense.

What he wouldn’t give to kill them on the spot. Somehow, he imagined, that would not do him any favors.

Seated on a low dais, in a throne fit for a king no less, his disgruntled paramour still fumed, swoop-goggles purposefully removed to rest upon the front of his worn helmet. Those expressive gray eyes were the Duros’ weakness, finding that he could not meet his narrowed gaze. Already oblique, Hondo’s stormy depths had gathered further into slits, leaving Bane to swallow down his spit.

Still, he approached, feeling naked and vulnerable as he stood there like a scolded child without his hat to shield him. He did his best, fathomless red ellipses meeting Hondo’s glare head-on, Bane saying the only thing he could think to say.

“Brought some flowers.”

Nothin'. There was no reaction, not even a change in his demeanor or a brightening of mood. Bane overtly frowned, taking a step back for his boots to echo lightly against the duracrete floor of Hondo’s beloved fortress home.

Supposin’ this didn’t work, Bane planned for his retreat, hoping to retain some dignity among those present. He lowered his head, his hat rightfully returned to where it belonged by a flat palm, Bane ready to drop the bouquet like so much trash at his feet; it was difficult to care when you didn’t know how to fix the wrong you’d done. Trying wasn’t as good as doing. Doing was the hard part.

“Are dose for me?”

Four little words that set Bane’s heart to thumping, the hunter wisely keeping his eyes averted as he saw the pirate stand out of his periphery. He would only nod, an infinitesimal movement of his head, up and down, affirming what Hondo already knew—those flowers were for him.

His spark descended, that charming scoundrel who kept him going on a dark night of the soul; he strode down the short flight of stairs that would bring him nearly to his level, Bane taller than Ohnaka, though the man was bigger in some ways; his heart for one, Bane thought.

“Dey are beautiful, my Moon,” his bit of sunshine said, Bane’s sorrowful eyes rising out from the shade of his bolero.

“Picked de best in de bunch,” he humbly offered, words bordering a whisper, eerily heard as the hall was quiet, grim faces and furrowed brows sparing him none of his embarrassment. "Same could be said, fer ye,” he added.

It was then the Weequay smiled, a dazzling thing, brighter than dual suns. Bane relaxed openly as he expelled a breath from between his teeth; it was a slow, heavy sigh of relief.

“Flatterer,” Hondo teased, his smile spreading wider, gold amidst pearl and oh-so satisfying to witness should Bane be the sole cause of it. “Dey need water, hm?”

The shuffling of a crimson coat and an idle toss of a braid signaled to Bane that Hondo would exit, the hunter grateful his gift had been accepted. However, the Weequay would pause, turning about face, reflecting on the shrinking Duros as he had been tempted to follow in his footsteps.

“Just… one more ting,” he announced, his expression hardening back to a look previously sported as his voice lowered an octave, Bane’s heart sinking toward his belly as he did not wish to incur any more reprimands.

Hondo took him by his coat’s lapel, jerking him forward. Bane held onto his hat as dusky lips brushed across his, pinpricks of electricity teeming along his scales like minuscule lightning bolts. The Duros would slump his shoulders to sink to Ohnaka’s height, a warm, black tongue invading his mouth to skirt one that was cool and pink.

This must be what it felt like to be forgiven, he assumed, some invisible weight lifting from off his conscience.

“Take it ye like flowers,” Bane remarked once free of his kiss, wanting to fill the now awkward silence with something to lighten whatever tension might be left between them.

For Hondo, there was none. He could just as easily forget as he could forgive. A rough thumb smoothed down the bit of Bane’s flesh left assailable, brazenly descending to aid in the tweaking of one sharp fang.

“Yes,” Hondo harmoniously agreed, “you might say dat.”

[aspoonofsugar]

Weapons Ever After

In the story, Alyx fell from the sky and met with the Hunter Mice, got trapped in vines, fought the Jabberwalker and got her knife stolen by a Talking Racoon.

Alyx too gets her weapon stolen by Jinxy and has to offer both her saddest and happiest memories to get it back. In other wrods, she needs her whole self to find her knife once again.

This ties with something we have known for a while now:

Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Weapons are symbolic of individuality, so it makes sense their price is a part of the person themself. Not only that, but what happens to them is indicative of what is going on with their user's inner world.

This is especially true for the Atlas Arc, which opens up with RWBY + JNR all receiving power-ups:

The teams' weapons are modified and enhanced because the kids are growing up. And yet, by the end of the arc, they all lose their weapons or have them damaged because of their crushing defeat at Cinder's hands.

Let's analyze each character and how their weapon comments their arc in the current volume.

BLAKE - SELF-REPAIRING BOW

Gambol Shroud describes Blake perfectly:

gambol means to move around playfully

shroud is a cloth used to cover things up

This name refers to our cat girl's tendency to run away (gambol) and to hide her true self (shroud). Initially, she herself is a little bow that moves around. As her arc unfolds, Gambol Shroud comments it faithfully.

Like its wielder, it is broken by Adam, but even if fragmented it keeps being useful and flexible. Blake has its pieces turn into a gun, a hook, a cleaver, a whip. They still work well enough to kill Adam:

Blake is hurt by her ex-partner multiple times, but she is strong and resourceful enough not to let it define who she is. She is more than just her relationship with her abuser and is made of multiple wonderful parts. Just like Gambol Shroud is a katana, but also 2 swords, but also a sickle and his sheat can be used to steal an opponent's weapon. It is as variegated as Blake herself is.

In Atlas, Gambol Shroud is fixed with a technique similar to Kintsugi. This method uses powered gold, silver or platinum to mend breakages, so that they become part of the beauty of an object, rather than something to disguise. This is Blake's development in a nutshell: she accepts her past mistakes and shows a brand new self with no shame.

Blake and Gambol Shroud go through a process of death and rebirth and learn how to heal. Maybe this is why she seems to whitstand her defeat and fall slightly better than her teammates. She has built the inner mechanisms to keep moving forward without being completely crushed.

Similarly, Gambol Shroud is burnt by Cinder, but this time the damage doesn't reach its core. Not only that, but the weapon keeps being used even after Blake's fall. It briefly becomes a memento for Weiss, who wields it as if she were holding the hands of her teammates:

Poignantly Blake finds it rather easily in Ever After precisely because Weiss has an idea of where it may be.

So, Gambol Shroud becomes symbolic of Blake's relationships with her teammates (Yang and Weiss especially). This is interesting because Blake is currently trying to guide the group and to keep it together.

Finally, Blake has to face the Hunter Mice to get her weapon back:

Mouse Leader: And on this day, we were not the prey, but the hunters!

Isn't it amusing that a Huntress's weapon is used as bait by a bunch of mice to trap a cat? Maybe the Ever After is trying to challenge Blake and her friends on what being Huntresses truly means and how it is easy to turn from hunter to prey, from human to monster.

YANG - DISARMING LOVE

Ember Celica convey Yang's many layers:

they appear as bracelets, as Yang is an eye-candy hot girl

they turn into gauntlets, as Yang is a hot-blooded fighter

they become asymmetrical, as Yang loses an arm because of her hot-headedness

This last point is the most important and the focus in Ever After.

Little: Steal? Never! They just take the things we are not looking at. Fair is fair.

According to Little, Jinxy doesn't steal, but takes things which are not looked at. In other words, they go after whatever is neglected. It is then meaningful they choose to collect Yang's arm of all things. After all, our Goldilocks has had her arm stolen twice now and both times for the same reason. She loses an arm because she protects a loved one.

In Beacon, Adam cuts her arm off when she tries to save Blake. In the Ever After, Jinxy grabs her prosthetic when she is consciousless after protecting Ruby. This is probably why the price to get it back is:

Jinxy: Knowing what it is to feel loved. A fair price for some, I'd say.

Jinxy's request can mean 2 different things for Yang's character:

Yang lost her arm to save both Blake and Ruby's lives. Then what if she did not do it? She may still have her arm, but maybe Blake and Ruby would be dead. Is Yang ready to sacrifice her loved ones for her arm?

Yang is ready to jump into harm's way for Blake and Ruby. Does she do it because she loves them or because she is scared they would not love her back if she doesn't? Is love that needs her to give an arm for others true love?

This is the conflict the auction lies out for Yang. It makes sense for her not to give up on the feeling to be loved for a mechanical arm, right? And yet, why should she leave behind her arm so that she can be loved?

What is the right choice? And is there really no other choice?

As you can see, Jinxy's words highlight Yang's complex. She unconsciously sees love as conditional:

Yang: Do you… think she thinks less of me… for not helping out with Amity?

What if Blake stops loving her because they disagree? What if Ruby gets hurt in Mistral while Tai is looking after Yang? Would Tai love her any less?

In a volume which is clearly going to explore Yang's relationship with both Ruby and Blake this complex is bound to surface. Only in this way she can start working through it.

WEISS - EMPTY FLOWER

Myrtenaster represents Weiss's duality:

It is a sword because Weiss is a knight

It works like a wand because Weiss is a magical girl

She is warrior and queen, male and female, anima and animus. At the same time, her weapon also shows her ice and sugar personality. It is apparently stiff (gray) and rigid, as it doesn't change form. Inside, though, it is full of colors and can be used in multiple ways thanks to Glyphs. Similarly, Weiss appears cold, but has a rich interior world, made of dreams and feelings.

This double side of Weiss can be found even in Dust, which is the key element of her fighting style. Dust represents Weiss's versatility, but also the privilege she was born in. And yet, the latter is gone right now:

Weiss: It's... it's all gone... There is nothing left for me to go back to.

And Weiss is out of Dust:

Weiss: Well, good news, I’m low on Dust.

For better or worse Atlas and the SDC are a big part of Weiss's life, but they are both gone. In this situation, it is interesting Weiss is the only one who so far has not lost her weapon. This can be read in 2 different ways:

Weiss's identity has grown strong enough not to be tied to Atlas and the SDC anymore. Obviously, she is shaken, but not completely broken.

Weiss is currently clinging to an empty vessel of herself. This may be why she thightly grabs Myrtenaster the moment she admits how much she lost:

Should she do it or should she just let go?

This conflict may tie with Weiss's weapon being the only one, which doesn't get modified in Atlas. It is because Weiss's fighting style is already perfect, but there may be another explanation. Weiss doesn't change in Atlas because she already has all that Atlas has to offer. Her real challenge is then to transform now that Atlas is gone. She is empty, but by letting go she can re-invent herself.

JAUNE - BREAKING DEATH

Crocea Mors is linked to legacy in 2 different ways:

It is an object Jaune inherited from his great-great-grandfather, so it symbolizes the Arcs' history

It is later modified by using Pyrrha's metal, so it comes to embody what Pyrrha represents in Jaune's life

So, Crocea Mors is two legacies combined. Two people Jaune wants to become more similar to. At the same time, it parallels Jaune's development. As he grows, the weapon changes, as well. It is introduced as a lame hand-me-down, but both its attack and power (Mistral) and its defence and versatility (Atlas) get enhanced. Basically, as Jaune's identity becomes rounder and rounder, so does Crocea Mors.

It slowly transforms into the perfect weapon for a Knight. A sword and a shield ready to fight for the people. And yet, in the volume 8 climax, Jaune uses it to kill Penny. So, Jaune's identity as a Knight shatters, just like his sword.

What now?

If Jaune is indeed the Rusted Knight, then it may be he is stubbornly clinging to an already broken identity:

Curious Cat: Time changes, you know? And so do we when it's our time to change, don't you?

In order to evolve, you must accept death,grief and destruction. Only if you do, you can be remade.

At the same time, the idea of a Knight trapped inside a rusted armor ties with Jaune's metal motif. In alchemy there is a scale of 7 metals: lead, tin, iron, copper, mercury, silver and gold. The objective is to transform the lead into gold. This is Jaune's arc in a nutshell.

He starts off as lead. He is inexperienced, ignorant and unrefined, but then he meets Pyrrha. Pyrrha is already gold by the beginning of the series. Hence why her golden armor, which contrasts with Jaune's white and gray one:

Not only that, but Pyrrha's semblance is literally about manipulating metals. So, she sees Jaune's raw potential and decides to turn the lead into gold. She is the one who starts the process.

After her death, Jaune keeps on evolving:

He goes from lead to tin in Mistral, when he changes his armor

He strenghtens his sense of self and blooms into iron in Atlas, where he also gains more golden details

However, he then kills Penny, who represents the properties of Copper (love and beauty)

As a result, I would not be surprised if he were now stuck. Symbolically trapped inside an armour because he can't stop being iron, while he should keep on going to reach gold. In order to change, though, he should face what he has done and let go of his current knight identity. It used to fit him, but has right now grown too small, just like his previous armor. It may be time to look for something else.

Speaking of which, isn't this golden woman interesting?

As @blue-cheeseinmyoffwhites noticed she is a blacksmith and may be the reason why Jaune is trapped inside an armor. In general, the idea of a golden woman, who is also a blacksmith (aka that works metals) reminds me of Pyrrha. Since Little may be in the story to help Ruby face her grief over Penny and her child-self, then this woman may have a similar function for Jaune. What if she is there to help him work through his guilt over Pyrrha's death and his hero complex?

We'll see how it goes, but so far Jaune is the only one whose weapon has been shattered and this might be his chance to build it anew. He might even make his own weapon instead of relying on someone else's legacy.

NEOPOLITAN - SELF MADE PARASOL

Hush represents who Neo is: Hush is a parasol that can be used as a shield and with a blade inside. It is the perfect weapon for a student of an Academy that superficially teaches girls how to be ladies and secretely trains spies. It combines the elegance of an accessory with the lethality of a weapon.

At the same time, Hush is clearly complementary to Melodic Cudgel. The former is a silent blade, while the latter is a flashy and noisy gun. The former is Neo’s message to the world to shut up. The latter is Roman’s enjoyment of the pain of others that sounds like a melody. So, Hush is perfect for the partner in crime of Roman Torchwick.

It is a weapon that fits both Lady Beat’s spy and Roman’s friend. The point is that Neo can’t keep being both. She can’t keep being Trivia Vanille and Neopolitan. She must choose.

Neo's parasol is symbolic of Neo's real self and it combines her many layers. It is also something Roman gifted her with, so, together with his hat, it is part of his legacy to her. Just like Neo herself is Roman's legacy. She is a person Roman loved and helped grow. The key to overcoming her grief is for Neo to realize this. Yet, she can't and maybe this is why she doesn't look for her weapon, but simply makes a new version of it by using her semblance (or so it seems tbh).

This may very well be because Neo is not trying to change or to self-reflect, but is projecting her anger and sadness over other people. This is why she immediately transforms into the 2 people she hates the most: Ruby and Cinder. Then, she lets her semblance out and... be it because it naturally evolves or be it because of the place she is... a tons of Neo immediately pop up...

And yet, who is the real one?

The Ever After may be at the same time the best and the worst place for Neo, right now. It is the best fit for her semblance. Overactive Imagination is about projecting the inside out, after all. It is about letting everything she represses take a real shape in the outside world. So, it makes sense that the Ever After amplifies its effect. However, letting our emotions go rampant without filtering them may lead to a disaster.

Symbolically, Neo may very well lose her real self. Just like she has lost her weapon and is replacing it with an illusion. Will Neo find herself again or will she stay in the Ever After forever?

(On an unrelated note, I am looking forward to how Neo's semblance is going to influence the Ever After:

Like, are these shadows all "characters" Neo creates? Is she gonna materialize the younger Ruby illusion on the bridge? Does it mean her semblance has evolved so that now her illusions can talk?

If Ruby and the others are stepping into the role of protagonists, then Neo may very well be using her semblance to step into the role of a writer:

I would not be surprised if she conquers the Ever After, at least temporally. It would be fun to see if the Ever After conquers her in return.)

RUBY - GROWING MOON

Crescent rose means "A growing-up Ruby". After all, Ruby herself is a rose (Ruby Rose) and crescent means "to grow up". So, her weapon describes Ruby herself: a young child, who grows up stronger and stronger... or does she?

It is obvious Ruby is not a smiling growing up child anymore. But then, who is she? There is no answer and this is why Crescent Rose is still missing.

Apart from this, Crescent Rose is interesting because it is one of the many things that tie Ruby to the moon. After all, the moon has 3 phases (well, 4, but we only need 3 :P):

Crescent Moon

Full Moon

Falling Moon

These 3 phases are linked to the life of a person. The crescent moon is youth, the full moon is maturity and the falling moon is old age. So, Ruby is a crescent moon (crescent rose) because she is still in her youth.

An interesting thing is that all these ideas are expressed by the so called Triple Goddess:

The Triple Goddess is a deity archetype revered in many Neopagan religious and spiritual traditions. She is viewed as a triunity of three distinct aspects or figures united in one being. These three figures are often described as the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone, each of which symbolizes both a separate stage in the female life cycle and a phase of the Moon.

Guess who is an example of a Triple Goddess?

Exactly, Trivia/Hecate is often considered a Triple Goddess :P And when she falls together with Ruby, she very conveniently turns into 3 people: Oscar, Yang and Penny.

Neo is supposedly Ruby's mirror, so these three characters should not only be important for Ruby's arc, but also represent part of who she is. As for now, several interpretations are possible. For example, Oscar, Yang and Penny are the protagonists of Ruby's major conflicts in the last 3 volumes.

In volume 7, Ruby and Oscar have a disagreement over telling or not Ironwood the truth. In volume 8, Yang decides not to follow Ruby's leadership and to take another path. So far, volume 9 focuses on Ruby's feelings over Penny's death. All these conflicts have built over each other until Ruby can't ignore them anymore.

They can also foreshadow future focus. Right now, Ruby is struggling with Penny's death, but later on she may also have to experience a shift in her and Yang's dynamic, as Yang enters a relationship with Blake:

Weiss: About time. Ruby: About time for what?

It may be nothing, but it is interesting Ruby seems oblivious to Bumbleby's clearly blossoming romance.

Similarly, once RWBY + J goes back, Ruby might share some focus with Oscar, since the 2 of them have clear parallel arcs.

Finally, these 3 people might also represent past, present and future:

Oscar is waiting for Ruby outside, in the future. Maybe this is why in this shot, Neo gets far away from Ruby when she transforms into him. He is a person, who did not fall and one of the loved ones, who are looking forward to Ruby's return.

Yang is with Ruby in Ever After. Neo closes up on Ruby, when she looks like her sister. Yang is a person who fell with Ruby and who is sharing her journey to go back home.

Penny died. Neo goes behind Ruby while being Penny and tries to drag her down. Penny is a precious friend, who is now lost and also a symbol of Ruby's inner child.

Whatever the case, the metaphor is clear... all these conflicts and Ruby's past self are dragging her down. She needs to face all what is repressed to climb back up.

Maybe this is why even before Ruby can start looking for Crescent Rose, she has to solve her feelings over another weapon:

Penny's sword symbolically works as a mirror for Ruby. By taking it, Ruby has the chance to grieve, to let her feelings out and to look at who she is. And yet, a couple of minutes after getting it, she is already moving forward. She is stepping into Alyx's role and getting a new purpose. Not only that, but her whole plan revolves around giving Penny's sword away.

The meaning is clear, Ruby is still not ready to let all her grief out. She chooses to ignore it and to start moving again. And yet, we know the sword is coming back for her:

Who knows? Maybe, just like Pyrrha's metal, Penny's jade sword is going to get integrated into Ruby's weapon or attire, as well. As stated above, we have a blacksmith, after all.

What is sure is that Ruby can't hope to find Crescent Rose until she decides what to do with Penny's sword.

THE AUCTION - ITEMS AND PAYMENTS

Little: Hugs are very valuable!

Let's go back to the Auction. Jinxy is presented as a thief and as a crook. However, I think the story makes clear there is a meaning to their actions. Specifically, Jinxy looks after things people disreguard and makes them look valuable, so that people would try to get them back.

At the same time, Jinxy's prices are nothing, but what the person truly needs to get what they want. The price is the truly important thing in Jinxy's auction, not the item, which is a fake anyway.

The first item looks like a bunny made of diamonds, but it is actually a small mouse like Little. It is then a representation of the child self. And what should one do with a child-self, if not to hug it thightly and nurture it?

Let's look then at what Jinxy asks our 2 sisters:

They ask Yang's feeling of being loved in exchange of her arm. They do not ask for the love Yang receives, but for her inner perception of it because it is unhealthy. Yang will always sacrifice parts of herself in exchange of affection, unless she lets go of the idea love is conditional. She needs to build a new idea of love or she will keep on losing pieces.

They ask Ruby's hope in exchange of Penny's sword. This is because Ruby needs hope in order to overcome her grief over Penny. It is meaningful Little steals the doll, so that it can reveal itself to Ruby before she has the price to pay for it. Interestingly, she gets the sword, but still can't properly process it and gives it away 2 minutes later.

Ruby and Yang need to nurture their inner hope and self-love if they truly want what the 2 weapons represent aka a whole self.

[the-twisted-tales-tavern]

Twisted Tavern Specials

Critical Failure

Female Muses: Keyleth of the Ashari, Vex’ahlia DeRolo, Pike Trickfoot, Cassandra DeRolo, Jester Lavorre, Yasha Nydoorin, Beauregard Lionette, Marion Lavorre, Nott the Brave, Yasha Nydoorin, Fearne Calloway, Imogen Temult, Laudna, Deanna Leimert

Yang Xiao-Long (Human Barbarian/Monk), Blake Belladonna (Tabaxi Assassin Rogue), Nora Valkyrie (Dwarf Storm Herald Barbarian), Pyrrha Nikos (Human Champion Fighter), Cinder Fall (Human Undying Warlock) // Hinata Hyuuga (Human Open Hand Monk), Tsunade Senju (High Elf Life Cleric), Naruko Uzumaki (Kitsune Barbarian/Monk) // Lucy Heartfilia (Aasimar Celestial Warlock), Juvia Lockster (Water Genasi Storm Sorcerer), Erza Scarlet (Human Battlemaster Fighter), Mirajane Strauss (Human Lycan Demon Blood Hunter) // Rukia Kuchiki (Halfling Bladesinger Wizard), Rangiku Matsumoto (Human Glamour Bard), Tier Harribel (Triton Shark Totem Barbarian), Neliel Tu Odelschwanck (Satyr Ancients Paladin)

Clover Beandyburke, Peregrine Weis, Jaerik Aldraeyds, Terra Verdell, Twilight Obsidia

Kinks: Non-Con, Monster-Fucking, Mind-Break, Bad Ending

Memes: Fucked Stupid, Rough Sex, Punishing Sex

[symphonic-scream]

Okay. Formal post for

Persona 5 D&D au

So this post has three parts, and the part headers are gonna be colour coded so if you wanna skip to a certain part, it's easier!

Overall Plot is Blue, Campaign Plot is Red, and everyone's Characters are Orange

Let's get litty in this bitch

Overall Plot

So, this au has a plot. Surprise!

Everyone but Morgana is university age, and they don't all know each other before the game. The idea to start the game comes from Morgana, 16, bonding over a mutual love of D&D podcasts with his tutor, Haru, 24

So the plan is to get a bunch of people together to play! Morgana asks his older brother Akira, 22, to invite some of his friends. Their two roommates, Ann, 22, and Ryuji, 22, agree to play too. Akira brings everyone else

Yusuke, 23, he met by simply noticing him sketching strangers in the university quad every day. Makoto, 24, is his own tutor and a PhD student. Sumire, 20, and Akira are in the same social work class. And Futaba, 19, is the legendary Library Hobbit. Akira once gave her an energy drink and they became besties

So the "plot" is the gang all coming together as they play, and slowly becoming friends outside the campaign. And because I'm me, it includes a Haru and Makoto romance plot.

Which, is Haru flirting and failing, so she tries to get Makoto to notice by romancing her character in game. There's more details but. Y'all can ask about that

Anyways the important part is, Morgana is the DM, and only he and Haru are really familiar with D&D.

Campaign Plot

Their game starts with the end of the world. The cataclysm, a dark figure laughing over them as the world burns around them. Each of them has a "sign", like Makoto's character is missing an arm, Sumire's character is marred with burn scars, etc

They get sent back in time by a few months. Their goal is to change the future, with their starting guiding ideas are to keep those "signs" from happening to their characters

Originally, Goro isn't in the campaign. His character is the big bad, but the gang somehow ruin that. Morgana comes up with another big bad and panic asks a different tutor to play that character and. That's Goro

Anyways. Here's the big part

Everyone's Characters

Not too much detail for everyone, just names races and classes, y'all can ask me for more details or can suggest some

Anyways.

Akira - Eladrin Rogue named Joker (he/they)

Ryuji - Half-Orc Barbarian named Nux (he/him/

Ann - Human Sorcerer named Constance LeBeau (she/her)

Yusuke - Drow Warlock named Faeryl (she/her)

Makoto - Tiefling Monk named Just (he/they/she)

Futaba - Tabaxi Artificer named Ford F-150 (he/him)

Haru - Half-Elf Paladin named Ulyssa Noir (she/her)

Sumire - Halfling Ranger named Cinder Earthdancer (she/her)

Goro - Aasimar Blood Hunter named Judas (he/him)

-

The pronouns listed are for the characters, at the moment the Thieves all use, the ones in the game. That's the best way to put it

Anyways. I have so many thoughts about this au ASK ME ABOUT IT SUGGEST THUNFS TALK TO ME ABOUT IT

[sapphic-scylla]

Intro to Cinder. Reworked her backstory to (once again) make her how I wanted her to be over how I had to make her. @ebevkisk

Drawn From Death

Lights. Colors. Flashes. Sounds drifted in and out of coherence. People wandering the street. Nothing she could make out. Her head pounded with blistering pain.

She pressed her hand against the door and shoved it open. Her vision, still very clouded, told her she was in a bar. In a drunken stupor, she slowly stumbled towards what she assumed was an empty corner table. The room slowly fell silent as she sat down, head thudding with a deep set pain that she felt in her soul.

Her vision slowly started to clear as she looked up to see the entire bar staring at her in utter confusion and terror. She looked down to see her clothes covered in layers of dirt and mud. She had felt the rain, but just now began to process the water that had soaked into her (very nice) clothes and that had rested on her rose pink skin. On her head, she felt her blood red hair and two horns sprouting from her head like a bull.

She tried to remember something, anything. A name, a friend, just a detail that she could latch on to so she could piece together who she was, but nothing came. As her body continued to return to normalcy, she doubled over in pain as she touched her stomach. In her belly was a wound, probably from a sword. By the width, it seemed like it came from a katana. Why did she know that and not her name? Or what happened yesterday? Or last week?

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. Can I get you anything?” A half-elven waitress said, jogging her out of her head.

“Oh yeah, uh…” Checking her pockets, she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find she was flat broke. “Sorry, I don’t have any money on me.”

The waitress nodded. “It’s on the house, hun.”

With a nod, she answered. “Just the special and one of whatever you have on tap then.”

The waitress bowed and disappeared.

“Ok,” she thought, “So, gathering what I know about myself, I’m a tiefling who got stabbed with a katana. Don’t know where I am or how I got here. Oh yeah, and I look like I crawled out of a grave.”

Her memory flashed. Dirt, no air, a deep feeling of magic flowing through the cuts in her skin, rain, oxygen entering her lungs. Pulling herself out of the ground. She glanced over at her hand and there it was. The same glowing symbols of the infernal runes for “aberration”.

“I did crawl out of a grave. I’m not dead or a ghost though. Maybe I was at one point though.” The tiefling said quietly to herself.

The waitress dropped off the meal without a word. The tiefling continued to try to jog her memory while she ate, but nothing came to mind. She rifled through her pockets, but nothing came of it. Only dirt and lint, though, apparently, she had transitioned from being a boy.

She chugged the rest of her ale, stood up, and shuffled back out into the rain, this time, with a purpose. As she stood there, she felt a deep rooted instinct rise within her as she ducked, spun, and disarmed the man who had just tried to shoot her. Pulling the pistol from the ground, taking his ammo pouch and kicking him back into the pub, she inspected it to find a fully automatic lever action pistol.

The man looked horrified. “How the FUCK did you do that?”

The tiefling turned, a devilish rage welling up inside her. “Do you just kill strangers around here? I wasn’t a threat to you and, yet, you think you can just kill me and walk away.”

The man backed up. “You…y-you we’re supposed to be dead. You WERE dead. We all saw your corpse. They carried you into town and buried you in an unmarked grave.”

The tiefling walked back to the man, pulled the sniper that was still hanging from his back. Truly a gun that he did not take care of but it was salvageable. She would give it more love than he did.

Her eyes glowed with arcane rage, she could feel it. “Any other weapons you got?” She said, anger searing its way deeper into his psyche. He sat, petrified as she dug through to find several knives and a katana. The blade was just a little too small to be the one that killed her.

The tiefling fixed all of the weapons onto her belt and swung the sniper onto her back. “Now that that’s out of the way…” She didn’t have a name, but that’s ok. What was a name, but a label. She would make one up. “My name is Cinder and if you know what’s good for you, you will tell me who brought me into town and where they went.”

[brainrotfromhorny]

this fic is gonna take forever here's some more toxic ascended astarion

At a certain point the search was extending past Baldur’s Gate’s walls. Traders, hunters, spies from all over knew of a wizard that the ruling force of the city desired. It felt like every alchemy shop in the surrounding countryside had been searched top to bottom, receipts and records for orders of reagents checked. Astarion read the reports Oloren sent from every town in excruciating detail, trying to find some sort of clue that may shine a light on her location.

A rising dread built in him. After two years of searching, he ordered Oloren to search the cemeteries; the records of deaths and illness from the past twenty years in the monasteries were poured over by spawn and mortals alike. 

Slowly information started trickling in from further South, to the nation of Amn.

Frustratingly, nothing.

Then, something.

One spawn made it back to Oloren to give a report and had been sent immediately back to the city to present it to its master. A small village, a hamlet at the foothills of the Small Teeth. They’d compelled the people in the tavern and there was a wizard there matching his description. They’d found her home but their ambush had gone up in literal flames. She’d fought like a god, staking the spawn if they got too close and burning the ones who kept their distance until they were nothing but piles of agonized ash. 

The one who’d survived had only done so because they’d been too terrified to jump from their perch amongst the leaves. Her body had shone with daylight, imbuing the spawn with a fear so primal they could not attack. It had fled and no one had been able to find a trail of her afterwards. Even her home had been burnt to nothing more than cinders.

The spawn died by his own hand for its cowardice. His prize, so close he could almost taste the iron of her on his tongue, was slipping through his fingers like water.

The image of her in the spawn’s thoughts awakened a hunger in him he’d never felt before; her eyes glowing with the power of the Weave as she took out his own spawn, strong enough to wreak chaos on an entire city’s guard, standing among the tall trees of the forest illuminated as if by daylight. A dagger had been thrown and landed in her shoulder, the blood running down her arm in thick rivulets.

The smell of it had filled the air above the magic and smoke. It had tempted every one of the spawn and was the most vivid memory from the event.

It ached and burned in Astarion’s throat for weeks, a monster threatening to claw its way out of his chest and destroy everything he’d built until she was at his side again; until his teeth were in her throat and every drop was siphoned out.

[xakuprime-4]

So as the world's most normal Xaku main, I - in my infinite disappointment that Xaku didn't get their prime during tennocon - decided that I would try and recreate base Xaku in Destiny 2.

Details under the cut

For all the Destiny players that have never touched Warframe; this is the base appearance of Xaku, and since their design is asymmetrical I had a feeling it would be very difficult to get close to it, but I really only had trouble with my Titan (the class I rarely touched from Launch to Witch Queen) since I would have less armor options for them as I would Hunters and Warlocks. Not to mention I've been a solo player for like. 97% of my playtime and never got to touch the old raid gear outside of being randomly invited to a clan and nabbing some Leviathan guns from clan engrams (thanks Hawthorne)

Anyways here are the appearances I managed to come up with from best to worst, with equipped shaders and armor pieces listed for those who cannot view the images.

[WARLOCK]

Helmet \\ Streetcholar Cover + Crucible Vermillion

Arms \\ Moonfang-X7 Gloves + Carbon Blood

Chest \\ First Ascent Robes + Carbon Blood

Legs \\ Tread of the Helen Lords + New Monarchy Regalia

Class Item \\ Solipsism (default) + Carbon Blood

----

Obviously Xaku doesn't have a robe, but as far as the positioning of the armor goes, I'd say it's pretty close to the original. The bond hardly matters at all but since I plan on using the Xaku look I decided I should at least make sure I can have some utility. Overall a solid set, and I'm happy with how this one came out.

----

[HUNTER]

Helmet \\ Pathfinder's Helmet + SUROS Tone

Arms \\ Tangled Web Grips + Crucible Prestige

Chest \\ BrayTech Combat Vest + Crucible Prestige

Legs \\ Scorched Hunter Strides + SUROS Tone

Class Item \\ Renegade Hood + Spark of Joy

----

Obviously it's not the best, but it still works fairly well. Sure the arms could be on the other way, and the red pieces could use that shine (which I tried to do but shaders work in weird ways and I'm not spending 2 more hours trying to find the red ones that have shine to them) but still a solid look. I do really like the legs though. Helps with the broken look and the light blue almost looks like it could be the tendrils.

----

[TITAN]

Helmet \\ Dark Age Helm + SUROS Modular Shine

Arms \\ Moonfang-X7 Gauntlets + Carbon Blood

Chest \\ NPA "Weir-Walker" Plate + Warbrick

Legs \\ Cinder Pinion Greaves + Crucible Redjack

Class Item \\ NPA "Weir-Walker" Mark (Default Shader)

----

The Titan is just a mess. The helmet works great, the chest is eh but it works toward the original look, the mark is decent and only there because I needed to reduce clutter and the tube worked to act as a single tendril, but the ARMS. The LEGS. I spent so much time trying to find any of the ones that could possibly be asymmetrical in a way that may work for the design, but of course they're both just clunky looking. The set as a whole doesn't even look cohesive. At least for Xaku the mismatched parts work in their favor but this feels just wrong to me. Spent too much time trying to even find shaders that would make the parts look how I needed them too but in the end I'm not satisfied. There are probably some Eververse ornaments that would probably work better, maybe some raid gear, or some of the old armor I missed in past seasons and vaulted raids. But I just do not have enough for the Titan for this to be good, let alone worth it.

----

Anyways if anyone wants to try making their own Xaku's I'd love to see the results, especially for the Titan I'd really like to see them get something better than what I did. Or if you're inspired to make other Warframes in Destiny that would be cool to see. You could definitely make an easy Rhino on a Titan but I'm not gonna worry about that.

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

ROUND 2 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

Engines of War

Synopsis

"The death of billions is as nothing to us, Doctor, if it helps defeat the Daleks."

The Great Time War has raged for centuries, ravaging the universe. Scores of human colony planets are now overrun by Dalek occupation forces. A weary, angry Doctor leads a flotilla of Battle TARDISes against the Dalek stronghold but in the midst of the carnage, the Doctor's TARDIS crashes to a planet below: Moldox.

As the Doctor is trapped in an apocalyptic landscape, Dalek patrols roam amongst the wreckage, rounding up the remaining civilians. But why haven't the Daleks simply killed the humans?

Searching for answers the Doctor meets 'Cinder', a young Dalek hunter. Their struggles to discover the Dalek plan take them from the ruins of Moldox to the halls of Gallifrey, and set in motion a chain of events that will change everything. And everyone.

An epic novel of the Great Time War featuring the War Doctor as played by John Hurt.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Year of Intelligent Tigers

Synopsis

"Doctor!" said Anji. This couldn't be happening, he couldn't just walk out on them! "Look, give them a chance, they're frightened, they're only —"

"Human?" The Doctor took a deep breath, as though to stop himself from saying anything more. "Now, stay!"

The weather is going to hell. The tigers are coming to town. And the Doctor has taken his violin and vanished.

The island world of Hitchemus is home to a colony of musicians and seemingly harmless alien animals. When the storms and the tigers break loose, the Doctor tries to protect the humans — but the humans don't want him. When he ventures into the wilderness in search of the tigers' secrets, Fitz and Anji find themselves on their own, trying to prevent a war.

With both sides eager for blood, and hurricanes on the horizon, the Doctor must decide whether this time he's on the side of the human race.

Propaganda

It's one of the most beautiful books in the EDAs, possibly in all of Doctor Who canon. It's about music. It's about colonialism. It's about animals that look like tigers but aren't, and about how the Doctor looks human, but isn't. It's about music. It's about an entire species' lost heritage, not due to outside intervention but biology and damned bad luck. It's about gay sex. It's about music. (6&7)

[lacependragon]

One of the things I love so much about canon rewrites is taking characters and backstories and tweaking them, slightly, doing the changes I'm interested in, and then butterfly effect-ing my way forward to the first chapter to understand how those changes have affected characters since they first came into their worlds.

It's so much fun to see how it changes people. To see how you can keep their cores but tweak the fine details, play with the public persona, twirl out different relationship threads from the miasma of change and curiosity you've entwined yourself with.

Having Pyrrha be trained by Caroline Cordovin, a character I am likening to a Greek God, a character who takes heavy inspiration from Achilles' mother (in my world) and who desperately wants to be remembered, to create a legacy, in a hero. To be immortalized in her progeny. To never be forgotten. And then to have her be in charge of Argus, to have her push Pyrrha from the start, to take this detail of Caroline Cordovin being in charge of Argus and making her and Pyrrha linked this closely, I've gotten this very interesting Pyrrha. A Pyrrha that is still, at her core, the same kind and loving and loyal and destiny-believing girl we all adore, but who is deeply traumatized, whose insecurities are marked in blood and isolation, and who is desperately lonely to a degree that isn't explored in canon.

80% the same. 20% different. That's what I'm working with, in terms of numbers. It's not an exact science, but it's a feeling - a vibe.

Jaune wasn't allowed to become a hunter because of the death of his grandfather, a trained hunter, when his father was a child. So he had to do things in secret. Different conflict in the family.

Pyrrha's heavy training and the tweaks to the magic system means she recognizes Jaune doesn't have an awakened aura in the locker room. Different starting motivations.

Ruby and Yang have grown up with a four parent household even if two of those parents are gone. Qrow is just as much their father as Taiyang and they treat him as such. Qrow and Taiyang's dynamics, with each other, with their kids, and with the world as a whole, have been tweaked to suit the changes made to STRQ. And considering how little we have of STRQ?

Oh boy did I have some fun.

Ruby Rose has carried around Summer's emblem since the night she left. She took her emblem off her cape and pulled her weapon from it, handing it to Ruby and putting her weapon on her back. She asked Ruby to hang on to it until she got back.

Now Ruby flicks it into the air to summon Crescent Rose. A weapon that protects them better than Mom ever did. But it's bitterness and love and guilt and grief and loyalty and frustration all tied into one. Ruby wonders if Summer knew she wasn't coming back. Ruby wonders if they were the last person Summer ever spoke to. Ruby wonders if they'll ever live up to the legacy of love and kindness and work that their mother left behind.

And as Ruby learns what Summer was to the Ozluminati, as they learn about Salem and Cinder and the Maidens and the Grimm, that weight is only going to grow. Because Summer was thought to be the one to stop Salem. And she's gone.

How do you live up to that?

And how do you convince yourself it's okay to be angry? It's okay to be bitter? It's okay to hate her for leaving you behind while still loving her? How do you choke back those emotions and find a way to speak through them, to explain how you feel?

You don't. So you get a little more frustrated, a little more grumpy, a little more jaded. But you still believe in hope and love and kindness.

And you still want to save everyone. Everyone. No matter what.

"We're here to make it better. So that's what we'll do, no matter how hard it is or how long it takes."

Little changes. A legacy that weighs much heavier from day one. An emblem that represents something from the moment we first see it - literally and metaphorically.

80% same. 20% change.

Jacques went to prison two years ago. The Schnee family is slowly recovering, but a lifetime of trauma can't be undone in two years. Weiss goes to Beacon not just to breathe, not just to find herself, but also to flee the knowing eyes and snide comments of everyone in Atlas. She is protective of her remaining family, fiercely loyal to her mother and her efforts to fix things. She detests her father. Her father is what most people who know about everything see the first time they see her - or so she feels, anyway.

So she's still prickly. She's still got her hackles up. She's still defensive, and frustrated, and a little too caught up in her side of the problem. But can you blame her? She's been picked at and poked at since she was 15 by a world that didn't want to believe her father is a monster. Will always be a monster.

And she carries that every day. Not just in her traumas, but also in the loss of a lot of her eyesight in that eye. In the way she flinches when some men raise their voices and slam their hands on tables. In the way she starts snarling the moment she gets backed into a corner.

Traits Blake recognizes. Traits that slowly get them both to bond. Because yes, they are from opposite worlds, but look at these scars that are the same. Look at these reactions that are mirrors to one another. Bridging the gap through understanding of pain.

80% same. 20% different.

Yeah. That's the thesis of RWBY rewrite changes. That's the vibe.