#First Arc: Landfall

[dragmirc]

First Arc: Landfall

Something did not feel quite right as the border between Hyrule Field and Gerudo was reached.

It wasn't inherently noticeable, a quick dart of the eyes along the low scrubland that separated harsh desert from temperate grasslands showed nothing in the real had changed. But there was still an invisible barrier here, one that caused Ganondorf to rein in his stallion to a stop right before it.

A physical search proved nothing amiss, just wind rustling sand over the meager brush at the border between his apocalyptic territories and the fertile lands further in. But it was there. A bristling in the hairs on the nape of his neck, something had changed in the very energy of the neighboring kingdom. It was unfamiliar enough that he could recognize it and the surprise of it managed to stop him in his tracks. His lips thinned at the thought that there was something he had yet to push through.

"Everything alright?"

He was pulled from his inner musings by a voice to one side, looking side-eye to the tall Gerudo woman part of his entourage. She looked a little concerned at the sight of her king's sudden unease, but the twist of his features was brief and evened out just enough. The energy dissipated into his hands instead and the leather of the reins creaked in his tightening grip.

"Everything's fine." he replied, sure and even-toned. As though to hide that she had seen anything amiss, he offered a small crooked smile. "I thought I smelled something rotting, wanted to make sure there weren't any scavengers nearby. Let's carry on."

It seemed to settle his four companions to know whatever had stopped them wasn't inherently hostile and with a click of the tongue and a small toss of the head, the sturdy stallion moved forward again. The group of five left the shifting sand wastes behind to follow a dust-choked road through the borderlands, feeling the intense heat off the desert wane as they entered the beginnings of the temperate grassland that was Hyrule Field.

Stubborn scrub was replaced by a carpet of billowing green, the wind that blew over it fair and cool. A few scutting clouds covered the sun and cast playful faint shadows over the rolling hills that bordered the winding road on all sides. A truly peaceful land, quiet in a much different capacity from the desolate isolation of Gerudo.

By comparison, Ganondorf and his companions were as a blight against the roiling greens and clear blue of the open sky above. Dark and foreboding in their neutral colors, astride dark-colored horses built to master shifting terrain. In the deeper reaches of his mind, he was envious of Hyrule's fertile, cool lands. In the fore, he was delighted in the idea that before the week was out, he would own it. It wasn't long before everything he had put into action would culminate into the final straw.

The King of Hyrule would fall to him, and that incessantly obnoxious little princess of his would follow. He would enact the final step in gaining access to the Sacred Realm once he tore the last piece of the puzzle from her little majesty's cold de--

A pressure against the back of his neck made him pause again, cutting into his musings once more. It felt like there were eyes on him, boring into his back. While he merely slowed the stallion's pace this time, he looked to both sides of the road.

The beginnings of Hyrule's farmlands stretched out in both directions. The budding crops of rye were being tended by farmers and their hands and while they stopped to regard the passing Gerudo delegation warily, that wasn't what he was feeling. A rustle in the adolescent grain further out made him stare at the point, but the tall ears of a hare betrayed the interloper for what it was and he opted to ignore it before resuming pace for Castle Town.

Maybe, with his plans coming so soon to fruition, he was feeling paranoid. Like some got jitters or stage-fright before a performance, he felt like there was someone watching him. It wasn't an unfounded fear, he'd had the sense that the princess' bodyguard was capable of seeing right through his facade. Ah yes, the Sheikah. She would prove to be a challenge. He could admire her for at least that without having to see the woman in action, especially in comparison to the lax ineptitude of the royal guardsmen otherwise.

What he mistook for paranoia, he realized on reaching the limits of Castle Town turned out to be apprehension instead. But it wasn't his own emotion. It felt somehow disjointed from him when he reached the market square that connected to the road leading to the castle on the mount above, like it was implanted artificially to create dissonance. But while it didn't affect him in the same way, he did notice out of the corner of one eye that now his entourage could feel it as well. His eyes narrowed as he saw them, heads lowered and glancing uneasily back and forth, any further expression once more relegated to his hands and the creak of leather reins in them.

Something was indeed different. Something was not quite right.

After a quick scan of his surroundings at the detestable denizens of Castle Town milling about in their tedious haze of day-to-day life, he caught it and it made him halt. Golden eyes laid on the shadowed silhouette of something standing next to the road leading to the castle. He cursed himself for not seeing the thing before, as it had been plainly standing there. Tall, lithe, with pinpricks of reflective white for eyes on its shadowed head.

A shade, perhaps? A ghost, maybe. Or neither, as it made eye contact with him for a moment enough to blink when it knew he was watching it and turned to dart up the road. It carried too much weight to be anything but alive, a flash of light off its form giving credence to its existence.

It wasn't that the thing existed in any capacity that made Ganondorf's attention snap up toward the castle. He was looking for the signs of a change, any indication that something had happened in the space of the last time he had been here. Nothing seemed off from where he was now, the banners flying as they always did to show the castle was open to visitors. But he couldn't deny that on the eve of his resolutions, the appearance of embedding emotions that were not his and strange sentinel shadows of things he didn't recognize made him worry.

He didn't show it in his face, the quiver that took his core and changed the budding paranoia into ripples of panic. The final machinations could wait until he had made sure the foundation of his years of planning and scheming was still stable. Ignoring his entourage imploring his actions, he spurred the stallion into a quick canter up the road, hearing the others following along behind as best they could. A gallop might have been faster, but he was keenly aware that such speed would be a detriment to the winding road hemmed in by rocky outcrops on both sides. This way, he would make good time and still remain alert to the terrain in case an attempted ambush was in play.

It wasn't long before he realized something had indeed happened on the castle mount. There was no predicted ambush, but the smell of spilled blood was unmistakable the closer he came to the castle and the lack of guards on the wall calling him to slow down or halt altogether made him glance upward. The standards he had seen flying were not the same. Down in Castle Town they hadn't seemed out of the ordinary, but up close, they were very different. Yellow-orange in color, the familiar emblem of Hylia's Wings had been replaced by an organized cluster of four-point star-forms. He couldn't catch any of them in full, flapping in the breeze, to count them all.

The sight of someone running up the road on the last bend caught his attention and in the full sunlight, he realized it was a person. A scout maybe for whatever force had settled here now, hardly different from a ghost if they were good enough. The fact that anyone had overtaken the castle without the rest of Castle Town even being aware spoke of an inside job so thorough, even he could be impressed.

The tang of battle mingled with the coppery overtone of bloodshed flooded his nose the closer he came to the bridge that lead into the castle walls, so strong that he could taste it in the back of his throat. An acrid terrible taste he knew as well as he recognized the glimmer of liquid seeped between the stones of the bridge before the first portal of the walls.

Ganondorf reined the stallion back to a slow careful walk over the bridge to the yawning tunnel through the walls, joined not long after by the rest of his entourage. The slumped weighty sacks of bodies tucked into the shadowed sides were all dressed in stained mail and tunics bearing the royal sigil, earning mutterings of surprise and harrow from the other Gerudo.

The front gardens and courtyards had been nothing short of a bloodbath, clearly where much of the action had happened. Lines of stained sheets covering suspicious lumps rested between walls and hedges, an impromptu graveyard for those yet to be sent off in some way. A quick but careful look around showed no one other than the dead and their current visitors currently rested in what would have greeted guests not too long before.

"I guess you smelled something rotting, after all." one of his companions pointed out before she continued, "These are all soldiers though."

"This strike was calculated, but messy." He hissed his observations, listening to his own voice say the words out loud as though he could barely believe what he was staring in its sheet-covered face. "This wasn't planned, just executed. There are likely more dead inside, but they aren't the only ones still here. Stay on guard."

He stared at the front doors into the main castle building as he dismounted. It was becoming more and more apparent to him that he had lost years of hard work in as little as what looked to be a few hours, perhaps the last day. What little flutters of panic remained had evolved into anger, settling into his chest as the thought hit him. A quick look around continued to assure him that for now, the Gerudo were the only ones alive in the front courtyards. It was enough that he strode purposefully toward the front doors, remaining alert to his surroundings as he entertained further plans.

Maybe, if he could still locate the ocarina, he would be allowed to continue his ambitions. That would be the ideal outcome, and only if the ones who had wrested charge were amicable enough to allow it long enough to see his rise to power. And only if they weren't after the Sacred Realm and by extension, the Triforce, as well. That was a factor he had to consider. Ganondorf considered it, and landed on the decision that if they were, they would have to be destroyed immediately. It wasn't something he was particularly remorseful about.

Now, as he pushed one of the doors open, all he had to do was find the one in charge.

@sanguinesorcery

[sh4nksslvt]

Question How do you think Marco the Phoenix would catch and defeat his girlfriend, Marin, so that she would give up her duties as a Marine? Do you happen to have a story about that?

Blue Fire, White Justice

Marco the Phoenix faces off against the woman he loves—a fierce Marine torn between duty and desire.

Marco the phoenix x reader | ONE SHOT tags: fluff, sfw, secret relationship, light drama, oc a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 826 masterlist | ko-fi : 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The sunset over Sabaody Archipelago bled into the sea, streaking the water with fiery gold. You stood near Grove 17, staring across the surf, coat whipping in the sea wind. The kanji for Justice blazed bold across your back—weighty and solemn.

You had known this day would come.

“He’s near,” you muttered.

Your partner, Lieutenant Commander Haru, glanced up from the comm transponder. “You’re sure it’s him?”

You nodded. “Marco doesn’t make landfall without reason.”

And you were the reason, weren’t you?

The World Government sent you to stop pirate resurgence near the archipelago. What they didn’t know—or didn’t care about—was your past with one of Whitebeard’s most notorious commanders. A man made of fire and regret.

Two nights earlier...

You met him at a decaying outpost near Grove 42, where silence clung to the ruins like moss. It had been your meeting place once, long before the war, when you still believed in middle grounds.

“You’re out of uniform-yoi” he said with a dry smile.

You didn’t rise to the bait. “You’re trespassing.”

He stepped closer, casual and radiant with heat. “Only because I need to see you.”

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Too late-yoi”

You lowered your voice. “Do you know what they’d do to me if they found out we talked?”

He studied your face, all humor gone. “Do you know what they’re planning?”

You froze. “What?”

“I can’t give details-yoi. But your name’s come up. Some in high command are calling you a liability.”

Your stomach turned.

You stepped back. “Why would I believe you?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Now

He arrived under cover of night, his form descending from the clouds in a blaze of blue and gold flame. The Phoenix landed silently, his body cooling to flesh as he walked toward you.

You waited in the clearing, saber at your side.

“You came to fight?” you asked.

He stopped several feet away. “I came to bring you with me-yoi”

You laughed bitterly. “That’s not going to happen.”

He looked around. “No backup?”

“I told them I’d handle you alone.”

“Still protecting me?” he asked, voice low.

You gritted your teeth. “Still giving me reasons not to.”

The clash began in an instant.

You moved first, blade arcing toward his chest. He caught it with a burning forearm, skin searing, but regenerating in a flash of flame. He didn’t flinch.

“You’re hesitating-yoi” he said.

You shoved forward. “So are you.”

He dodged, fast as ever, sweeping you off your feet with a gust of phoenix fire. You rolled to your feet, haki igniting around your fists.

Your strikes were fast, precise. He met them with heat and patience, parrying without rage.

“You’re not trying to hurt me,” you panted.

“I’m trying to reach you.”

You froze for half a breath too long, and he closed the gap, gripping your wrist tightly—but gently.

“Let go,” you growled.

“I will-yoi. When you stop letting them own you.”

Flashback - A year ago

You sat beside him on a broken stone ledge of a forgotten island, legs dangling over the edge. The sea was dark, but calm.

“Ever think of disappearing?” you asked.

Marco smiled faintly. “All the time.”

You leaned against him. “I could run. Change my name. Burn the coat.”

“You’d miss it,” he said.

“Maybe. But I’d miss you more.”

You didn’t kiss him that night. You just sat there, feeling the weight of decisions neither of you were ready to make.

Now

You launched a furious assault, striking harder than before, tears clouding your vision. He blocked each blow but didn’t retaliate.

“You think I’m being used?” you shouted.

“I know you are.”

“I believe in what I do!”

“I believe in you,” he said.

The words hit harder than your blade ever could.

Eventually, he caught you—arms around your waist as you struggled, both of you breathing hard, sweat and ash clinging to your skin.

You slumped against him, exhausted.

“What do you want from me?” you asked.

“I want you to stop sacrificing yourself for people who see you as a tool.”

You shook your head. “I can’t leave. I can’t be like you.”

He stepped back. “Then don’t be like me. Just...be free.”

Later that night, you sat alone beneath a mangrove tree, staring at the white Marine coat folded neatly on the grass beside you.

Memories came in waves—training drills, missions, accolades. None of them felt like home.

But a quiet moment aboard a stolen dinghy, Marco laughing as you tried sake for the first time—that did.

At dawn, you stood on the same dock where the Phoenix first touched down. The air smelled of salt and smoke.

He stood by the water, waiting.

You approached slowly.

Then, without a word, you dropped the Marine coat between you.

He didn’t smile. He just stepped forward and took your hand.

“I’m not choosing you,” you whispered. “I’m choosing myself.”

He nodded. “Good. That’s who I fell for in the first place.”

Together, you walked toward the rising sun.

[disastercyborgecho]

The End.

These are my final prompts for @summer-of-bad-batch

Excerpt:

'The era of the clone trooper was dying a quiet death.

Now, on the beach, Echo thinks that he might have been dying a quiet death too. A somber march towards the end full of rusting metal and clammy skin in solidarity with every single brother who would die in an empty base with an empty stomach and an empty heart.'

--

I used this last piece to try and explore, from the perspective of my favorite character, much of my own struggles, which is part of the reason I became so attached to him in the first place. The Bad Batch are essentially Echo's second chance at life, but more importantly, they keep giving him more chances. They are such a perfect example of how important finding joy within struggle is, and they remind me why I love Star Wars so much in the first place. Because really, in the end, the point of Star Wars is to have hope. In the face of everything, hope is our greatest weapon.

Anyway I hope you enjoy, this piece is very dear to my heart

---

Prompt: “Stop touching me!” // “I’m not touching you!”

Prompt: Crashing Hard

Prompt: Light in the Darkness

***

I did my job, I paid my dues, Love is for fools (Because nobody gives a F*ck)

---

Echo never realized how much he was terrified of change until he found himself on a beach on Pabu watching the waves crash over the sand near his mechanical feet, Rex leaning a heavy shoulder onto his own. They had not spoken for several minutes now, and the silence was heavy in Echo’s throat. 

It had all started when Rex had suggested they take a break from the endless violence and suffocating despair of their tiny freedom movement for their brothers. Echo had fallen asleep over his datapad again, trying to figure out a way to save just a little more of their kin because it felt like they would never catch up to the endless death, the endless decommissioning of their brothers as though they were just reactive pets. It was a spiral that repeated in Echo’s head every moment he had to think.

Rex had shaken him awake, the ship smoothly falling out of hyperspace as Echo had startled and flinched back into reality. His dreams were stained red now, and he always felt exhausted when he woke up.

“How much time?” He asked Rex.

Rex shifted a little, his hand still on Echo’s shoulder, and he glanced out at the stars and the approaching planet, where they were attempting to pick up more of their brothers abandoned with little to no resources, starving slowly for a New Empire. 

“Few more minutes before landfall,” Rex said. He sounded just as tired as Echo.

The mission went on without a hitch. It still hurt. 

Physically, Echo was slower now, he knew it. His body broke down faster and faster, the mechanics popping and clicking at the joins and his already unsteady immune system cracking further and further. Even the slow and steady process of loading up cargo from the base they were quietly dismantling made Echo sweat heavily through his layers of clothing and armor. But he never minded pushing past chronic pain and rasping breath when it mattered. No, what really weighed down the ex-ARC was the hollow faces of their newest rescues. 

The boys didn’t put up a fight. They rarely did anymore. Early on in the clone rebellion, many of their brothers still believed in the rhetoric of the Empire and the Cause. Were ready to die for it. But now, they had all been abandoned. It was cheaper for the Empire, lacking the Kaminoan facilities to actively decommission large amounts of clone troopers (and whose fault was that), to simply post clone troopers at far-away bases and planets that were barely in the grasp of the Empire, and then simply forgetting about them. If the clones were lucky, rations would be sent every other month or so, but as time dragged on, more and more of them were not. There was less battle now, less blood and violence, for Rex and his rebellion to rescue their brothers. Now it was just fighting the passing of time. Every new face Echo saw was empty from loneliness and starvation and the general emptiness of someone who’s had their purpose stripped away from them with no explanation or warning. He could only imagine the thousands more that would never find a new community within the family Rex was doing his best to collect. 

The era of the clone trooper was dying a quiet death.

Now, on the beach, Echo thinks that he might have been dying a quiet death too. A somber march towards the end full of rusting metal and clammy skin in solidarity with every single brother who would die in an empty base with an empty stomach and an empty heart. Echo thinks that Rex might have been able to see it, in the bags under his eyes that matched Rex’s own. In the names of those they couldn’t quite save, carefully scratched into the back of Echo’s datapad. Numbers for those that they never learned the names of. For those who never even got a name in the first place.

Echo fisted the sand in his hand aggressively and looked away from his brother and once, a long time ago, his commanding officer. He didn’t deserve this. Not with so much to still do. So many to still save. Rex laid a hand on his shoulder. It was calloused from holding a blaster and starting to wrinkle and stain from sun damage. It was familiar. Echo leaned into it despite the anger boiling in his stomach. 

Because Rex had asked him to leave.

He had taken Echo to Pabu with a suggestion of a break, and then sitting him down on the beach while Omega dragged Hunter and Wrecker further down the shoreline to search for shells, he had turned to look at his younger brother, and in a soft voice, suggested that he stay on Pabu. Permanently.

“We’re getting old, Echo. The work will never be done. But after all of this, after everything you’ve done, don’t you think you deserve the rest? You have a family here. People who love and miss you. People to grow old alongside of.”

Echo wanted to tell Rex that he was his family, but a familiar feeling of being sliced right down the middle choked him up. It felt like the moment where he had stood at the entrance of the Havoc Marauder for the first time, staring out at a group of people he would die for, had died for, knowing that he could never go back to them. That his place was with these strangers who had shown more acceptance of his new body than those he shared a face with. Than those he had shared everything with. Echo didn’t say anything. 

Rex took it as disagreement because he knew Echo so well, and he shook his head.

“Look vod’ika, this isn’t any easier for me than it must be for you. I just, I want better for you. You deserve better. You deserve to find a life, even for just a few more years, outside of, of this.” Rex gestured at himself, at his battered armor, and the dark lines under his eyes, and Echo wanted to punch him. Because Rex was everything, and the work they did together was everything, and couldn’t Rex see that underneath it all, Echo was nothing? 

And Echo was terrified that underneath it all, he really was nothing.

“There’s, there’s more to do, Rex,” he answered instead. “There’s always more to do.”

He tried to pretend that he didn’t sound defeated as he said it. 

He tried to pretend that he didn’t already know how this was going to go.

That for the second time in his life, he was going to have to split his heart in two, standing in a doorway of somewhere that was strange and unfamiliar, watching his family leave him behind because for the second time in his life, he wasn’t enough.

Echo didn’t know if there were any parts of his heart left to pick apart. So he stayed silent, and refused to look at Rex, and tried not to cry. It felt wrong in a place as beautiful as this, the sunset starting fires on the palm fronds and the water in bright oranges and reds, dancing along the horizon in a joyful celebration of another day gone. 

“Please, vod’ika,” Rex whispered, his hand still on Echo’s shoulder. “Please look at me, please say something.”

Echo could only watch the sun slip away and gasp around his lungs turning to stone. 

Empty.

Empty.

Empty.

“Breath, ori’vod,” Crosshair unceremoniously dropped into the sand on Echo’s other side. He had been sitting a ways away with a book, watching Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker, but Echo hadn’t even noticed him move. He didn’t touch Echo, didn’t worm his way into the spaces Echo had carved out and left empty in case someone needed a place to rest. That wasn’t their way, it never had been. Echo appreciated it. It was just as familiar as the callouses on Rex’s hands, but right now, it felt safer. He took a deep breath.

“I…” He stopped. Took another breath. Started again. “I don’t have anything left.”

Leaning back, Echo let the last little moments of sun warm his face, closing his eyes to the onslaught of emotions tangled up inside him. His brothers were silent, letting him untangle the knots one by one. Out of anyone, Rex and Crosshair both knew how much it took to tug on those strings, not knowing what would happen when they were straightened out. What would be left. Echo continued.

“I know that it’s time to let go. I get it. I’m slowing down, I’m not as… as useful. But do I really deserve this? There’s still so many brothers left behind, and how can I–How can I call them my brothers if I give up on them? If I stay here, and, and what? Retire? I’m drowning on dry land and it feels like no one in the entire galaxy cares about us, about anyone else at all, and what am I supposed to do about it? There’s so much death and we know exactly who’s responsible, but all we can do is just sit here and be angry, and I have been angry for so long now. I don’t know how much longer I can do it. But if that’s the only thing I can do? Then what right do I have to stop? What right do I have to rest?” 

It was Rex’s turn to stay silent. Echo swiped away the tears that were running down his cheeks, cold against the sunburnt skin. He didn’t expect an answer. But Crosshair had never been great about keeping his mouth shut. 

“I spent a long time being angry.” Crosshair began. He was running his fingers along the spine of his cracked novel, something about romance that he wouldn’t admit to enjoying. 

“I spent so much time being angry, that I forgot why it was important that I was at all. I spent so much time hating you all, hating that I had been left behind, that I forgot why it was important that I was angry in the first place.” 

“Why was that?” Echo asked, softly.

Crosshair finally looked at him, smile lines only just starting to form around his eyes and mouth. His eyes were burning, staring straight at Echo, as if he was trying to silently whisper ‘I see you, I see you, I see you’ with every second. 

“Because I loved you. You’re my family.” 

And in a heartbeat, Echo got it. 

Down the shore, Omega squealed as she was lifted up by Wrecker as he cackled. He tossed her into the air and she lifted her arms up, curls whipping in the breeze as she looked as though she was flying, if just for a moment, before landing safely back in Wrecker’s arms. Squirming away as he began to tickle her, laughter bounced down the beach and Hunter joined in the playful teasing. 

“Stop! Haha, stop!” Omega cackled. “Stop touching me!” 

The whole time she was wiggling in joy, which kind of ruined the admonishment, a grin plastered on her face. Hunter and Wrecker’s expressions mirrored her, and Wrecker scooped her up again.

“I’m not touching you!” And he tossed her into the air once again.

Omega’s excited howl was heard easily by the three other men on the beach, and none of them could resist cracking a smile at her exuberance.

“Sometimes,” Rex said, “The hardest thing we can do in the face of tyranny, is to laugh.”

Crosshair nodded, and he turned to Echo one more time, finding his eyes one more time to make sure his brother truly understood.

“You are allowed to enjoy this. You are allowed to experience happiness, when it is something that they have tried so hard to keep from us.”

Finally, he leaned into Echo, Rex taking up his other side, holding their brother securely between them. And Echo collapsed. His body shook from the terror and the rage that had been coiled up in him for so long with nowhere to go. He mourned the loss of countless of his family, thousands that he never got to know. He mourned his own body, and what time had taken from him that he would never get back. But he also shook from the sheer unadulterated hope that flooded through him. Because he was still here, and he had a family who loved him unconditionally, and none of them had ever thought that this was a future any of them would ever see.

Crosshair pulled him into a keldabe and held him there firmly. Rex had his hand on Echo’s back, the other gripping the back of his neck. Omega's laughter danced with Hunter’s and Wrecker’s as they chased each other along the sands of their home.

“You’re allowed to live, Echo,” Crosshair whispered. “We all are.”

***

AO3

I can't believe I managed to finish every single prompt. It was often a challenge, but I'm actually really proud of the work I've done for this. If you'll allow me to be sappy for a moment, this was really my first foray into this community, and I am so glad that I'm here. It has been the most accepting, creative, and kind group of people that I've ever had the pleasure of talking to.

Thank you.

The song 'Lithonia' is paired with this because I found it held the two themes in this well. When you listen at first, it is the anger at loss and apathy and the meaninglessness in life. But as you read, perhaps listen to it again. Perhaps this time, it can be the freedom of knowing that it doesn't matter. And because it doesn't matter, you are free to exist in any way that brings you joy and peace.

[mychoombatheroomba]

Danger Close

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 9

Well, fuck.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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You’d known you were in trouble the minute he’d jumped into that fight after you. Seeing his grin that night - seeing him smile despite all that he’d suffered - only confirmed it, because the sight was enough to make you smile right back. Happy to see him happy. 

When the hell had that started to matter? 

From the beginning, you called yourself on your own bullshit. You’d apologized to him for your first meeting for your own benefit, yes, but something in it had become genuine when you’d seen his sad blue eyes. You’d given him the advice you’d given him because he was sweet. Too sweet for where he was and who he was going to have to become. You’d agreed to help him because you wanted to see him do well. 

His happiness had always been a factor. It played second fiddle to his well-being, his preparedness, but it was a factor, nonetheless. And now, it was becoming not just a factor but a priority. 

For a year now, you had resigned yourself to solitude. Promised yourself peace in the form of isolation, because people were so easily ended. You were safer from afar, but now the missile was inbound, and you were in the blast zone. "Danger close" your Captain had called it. When you could see the missile arcing in the sky, knowing that you missed your opportunity to run, to get to a safe distance. Now all you could do was let the hard truth make landfall.

Your promise to yourself was going to be broken, and so was your solitude. 

Because one way or another, you and Leon Kennedy were in this together, now. You did your best not to let that revelation distract you as you and he danced around the knife between you. Just as you tried not to notice the little flush on his cheeks whenever you would turn the blade and get just a little too close. The way his pretty, pale eyes lingered on your own. How much you didn't mind the attention. 

Forget playing with fire, you felt like you were entering a minefield. Something in you was screaming that continuing would just leave you in pieces.  

Even so, you felt yourself take that first step forward.

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A/N: Just a little one this time, because Sarge (you) needed a minute to just go "Oh shit, I like that little guy."

[paleoartt]

Kinsbane Southbound

4947 words

A letter had arrived that morning. Like others before, it was sealed with that familiar symbol in dark wax that haunted his subconscious.

Aelarias knew it well, placing it upon his desk with an unsteady hand. He thanked the messenger at his windowsill with a gentle ruffling of its feathers before sitting down at his desk to eat his breakfast. It was a fairly simple meal of toast with jam and some herbaceous tea his mother had sent to him. He was still trying to get away from the bland tastes of rations even years after the war had ended. He didn't have a stomach for many of the meats now available to him, fish was suitable, poultry as well, but little else. Hoofed animals tasted far too similar to man…  

He shook himself, attempting to rid his brain of the encroaching evocations of trenches and blood that thought dredged up. As he ate his gaze drifted to the letter in a gradual, contemplative fashion. He decided on opening it later as it then flickered to the open window. It was a murky morning, the sort that comes about after a rainstorm, he found himself enjoying it. The warm scent of petrichor wafting in through his window was always welcome, it reminded him of his mother…

The unpleasantness of earlier returned at near full force as Aelarias at last reached for the unopened letter. Something pulsed in the depths of his brain as he went about breaking the wax seal carefully and pulling out the contents, two seperate pieces of parchment. His expression unconsciously twisted from neutral to something like disgust as his gaze trailed the writings on the first. 

He set the paper onto his desk and turned away from it, hand going up to rake through his hair. His fingers trailed through the soft strands as his hand made its way back to cradle his head then slide to his nape. ‘She cannot possibly be serious, that’s audacious.’ He grabbed the parchment up again after a harsh moment of deliberation and re-read the letter several times, his ire growing by the moment as he fully processed the phrasing. 

She wasn’t even requesting his presence, she was telling him he was expected to set out for Kogalleis with no questions asked a fortnight from now. He understood why of course and was willing to do so but he was allowed to be upset about its timing and utter lack of tact. 

He hasn't been fully re-integrated after his abeyance, nor given any proper leave to visit his mother unsupervised. He sighed, calming himself down by reading the other letter, written in kinder hand. A faint smile had graced his visage as he grabbed his inks to draft his responses. 

One to his commander, that one was rigidly worded though still respectful enough, the other was an invitation response, more kindly worded and more  galvanized. The letters were sent back out at half past noon by two of the raptors in his rookery, they were faster than pigeons, ravens and carried more presence, in his unbiased opinion.

It wasn't a far flight, a day, maybe two, Aelarias made landfall at dawn on Thursday. Of course causing the usual amount of commotion with the surrounding villages. It wasn't everyday a mountain of scale the color of stygian and sable flew over your home and landed in your pastures. The escorts that had been sent to collect Aelarias were… unsettled to say the least and had unadvisedly brought far more men than necessary. 

Their horses pawed nervously at the grass, one nearly bolted when Aelarias had yawned, brandishing a maw full of serrated teeth in two neat scintillating rows. Despite this his gaze rested upon them calmly. Bright and cold like the new moon, he knew why he was here. 

A sound like cracking thunder hummed through the field as his wings folded against his sides in a smooth arcing motion, molding into his sides. It wasn't the cleanest of processes, hard scale giving way to smooth soft skin. A small body of sinew, corpuscule and bile from one of fire and blood. Grotesque? Perhaps. 

The process was over in a matter of minutes leaving nothing but a shaggy haired and golden skinned boy in the place of the mountainous beast. He moved his newly human arms behind his back, interlacing his fingers as he stretched out his back, neck cracking softly as his tail formed a smooth catlike arch. 

A horse was brought to him, a speckled dusty brown gelding with black at his legs, head and mane. He had a distinctive un-centred snip on his snout that trained up into a blaze and a pastern on his hind leg. Aelarias greeted the horse with a casual familiarity and mounted him in a smooth motion. 

The journey to the castle wasn't very long but it was quiet, peaceful for Aelarias but unsettling perhaps to his escorts. Their synchronized breaths of what seemed to be relief when they reached the castle gate had all but proved his theory.

He was brought inside and taken before one of the elven princes, Caellon an old friend who was currently co-leading in his mothers stead with his siblings as she had busied herself with working with other leaders of the realm. 

Aelarias gave a short bow at the foot of the throne with his arms neatly folded behind his back, a common gesture of respect. It was quiet in the throne room for a moment before the all but empty room suddenly echoed with laughter, Caellon walking down the throne's steps to meet his partner and embrace him. 

He pulled from the hug, palms now resting over Aelarias’s shoulders. “How have you been? To my understanding you are yet to be fully released.” Aelarias had sighed softly, his hand moving up to cover Caellon’s as a mildly irritated smile was bestowed upon his face. “They do seem to enjoy trapping me like a newt in a jar, yes but enough of that. We have things to discuss.” They had turned to walk from the throne room of sorts and taken to one of the long halls that branched from it, vaguely moving in the direction of Caellon’s room.

The hall was, of course, personally decorated with colors, plants and paintings of important figures. Aelarias glanced to his left as they walked, his pace slowing as a familiar painting hit his eyeline. A dragon massive, jagged, black. “I still can’t believe you had this done.” He murmured softly as his fingers absently met the canvas. “And had the gall to keep it.” He added, glancing over his shoulder.

 Cael chuckled softly at that, running a hand through his long lucent locks as he walked over to stand next to him. “Mother had scarcely allowed me to keep it let alone frame it and hang it here. But she said you were..” Cael paused for a moment in a theatrical manner as he recalled his mothers phrasing. “Sufficient.” Aelarias paused at that and turned to look at his friend. “I’ve never known your mother to just hand out such high praise.” 

Cael grinned at him and made a gesture with his eyebrows. “I think she likes you.” In response, Aelarias harshly elbowed him. “Oh shut up.” Before adding with a mirthsome grin. “Besides, I’m far more interested in your father.” Caellon had tried to shove his friend to the floor at that comment before he took off running down the hall.  Aelarias gave him a head start, standing there with a casual air about him before he sprinted after him, following the cacophony of noise that Caellon was making.

Caellon was lying on his bed on his back, hanging off the edge of it with Aelarias politely sitting next to him. “You need not worry so much over such things, Aelarias, it's not even your job.” “Oh but I must, you're such an optimistic dolt that you would never consider such worldly things and your siblings just baby you so.” 

Aelarias poked Cael’s side at ‘dolt’ to add some form of emphasis before his smile drifted. “You wouldn’t have ordered me here if you weren’t in need of counsel.” He added in a more severe tone. Cael had flinched away at the harsh contact but didn’t argue against his claim instead Cael nodded solemnly and sat up. “Osiian doesn't hate it, but she’s the oldest, mum's right hand, it just feels like an average Tuesday for her. Eirion doesn't like that it cuts in on his sparing time with the knights but he doesn't kick up too much of a fuss about it.” He paused for a moment.

 “Rhydes has always enjoyed the diplomatic aspect of her role, she likes chatting with our ladies and lords as well as the common folk, gives us a ‘grander perspective of the goings on’ she says. Of course Taliesin is taking it in stride as per usual, and I'm doing alright I suppose, it's definitely more work than I'm used to though…” Cael trailed off at the end of his sentence, turning his gaze and attention to his hands.

It was quiet between them for a moment. “Well I’m here for one reason or another aren't I? Bir of help never harmed anybody now has it?” Aelarias gave him a fairly gentle nudge with his elbow and the pensive frown on Cael’s face finally flickered back to a smile. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” He grabbed his friend into a fairly tight hug. “There we go.. good on you.” Aelarias murmured as he returned the gesture and slowly pulled the two of them to standing. “Your mother isn’t set to be gone all that long a while anyhow, you’ll be used to this in no time at all Cael."

Aelarias and Caellon had been taken to one of the further villages of Kogalleis with Rhydes. He thought that having Cael ‘tag along’ with his siblings might help give Cael a better idea of how he fit into the metaphorical puzzle. Regain some confidence in himself, his role and his abilities. First was Taliesin then Eirion followed by Osiian for two days each.

Today they were with Rhydes who specializes in communications with their ladies, lords, merchants and the like. She had offered that day because she had, quote- ‘less dire matters to attend to’ meaning they were simply going to be discussing and not formulating new exchanges, nice and simple. 

Aelarias had taken position outside the village in the field where they graze their livestock, he wasn’t quite feeling up to being wholly man at the moment. It was quiet, the winds softly blowing through the grass and lazily pushing the clouds across the welkin. There was a stream nearby that murmured with cool clear water and housed plenty of fish. He lay peacefully there among the sheep and wild flowersThey didn’t seem particularly bothered by him, they were comfortable enough to leave their lambs at his side while they graze, sleep or socialize. 

He was a rather lovely deterrent to predators. Still, Aelarias didn’t allow himself the luxury of relaxing; he was wholly aware of his surroundings and the lambs put to his care. His eyes mostly set to the sky, eagles were opportunistic at best when it came to lambs.

His gaze sharpened when he caught a flicker of grey-white passing between the downy clouds. A low rumble left him as his gaze followed the faint figure. Whatever it was seemed to recognize him as it dipped below the cloudline and it let out a loud, carrying bray that was not dissimilar to that of an elk or loon. Though, it was deeper with more behind it.

Cael had immediately noticed the new, unwelcomed arrival and went for his sword but Rhydes had caught his shoulder in time. “Aelarias can handle it Caellon, calm yourself.” Her hold strengthened on him as he tensed. “That dragon is half his size, less even.” She continued, still gripping his shoulder gently but firmly. Caellon’s expression marred to one of confliction but the tension slowly left his shoulders and he sheathed his sword. “I sincerely hope you are right on that account sister.” He murmured after a moment low and uncertain.

Aelarias mimicked the noise with an eerie exactness and that seemed to earn him some modicum of trust. ‘Southern Arctic by the looks of it’ He thought as the small furred dragon slowly flew down and landed around thirty feet from him. He chuffed amusedly, tipping his head towards them in a guarded yet still friendly fashion. 

“You’re a bit far north aren’t you lovely?” His voice resonated lowly in the field. There was silence from the other as they ever so slowly and cautiously approached him, their fur and scales piked up to make them look larger. “..Lost.” They finally started. “Hungry.” Aelarias’s body language tightened and a low rumble left his throat as he kettled the lambs to lie under his wings. It was not an outright threatening gesture, simply a discouragement of any ideas that may be knocking around in their head. 

Aelarias stared at the white dragon for a good long moment before his head slowly dipped down toward the stream, jaws held open. They then snapped shut and he lifted it just above the river, he let most of the water drain from between his teeth then moved his head back, dropping an impressively sized fish between them. He gestured for them to take the trout before passively checking on the lambs who looked a bit frightened.

The hoary dragon reached for the fish and pinned it between their forepaws, tearing into it with a desperate ferocity. Aelarias was surprised they didn't choke on it with how fast they were eating. “Right, slow down. It's not going anywhere.” Aelarias advised through a chuckle, wings relaxing along with the rest of him. 

The little dragon finished its meal bones and all then slowly wandered over to Aelarias, bunting its head against his forelimb as their body flopped down. They sat like that in the quiet for a long while before Aelarias leaned his head down to speak to them. “Are there any more of you?” The little thing scuttled to its feet and started wandering in what seemed to be no particular direction, looking up at the sky, then north, then to him sadly. “Lost.” They repeated in a mumble, moving back into contact with him, seeking comfort presumably. “Ah I see. Must have lost your way on the fly back over the mountains.” He watched as they nodded solemnly, almost as if they were sorry. “I can take you home.” It was quiet between them for a long, comfortable moment aside from the soft warbling pur coming from the whelp. “My name is Oveks.”  They said, nudging the side of his lowered snout.

Aelarias hummed softly in confirmation, gently nudging them back. 

   “Oveks."

“I’m coming with you.” Caellon’s headstrong response was.. expected, unsurprising was perhaps a better word. Aelarias had spent the last half hour explaining why he had to leave, followed by him trying to discourage Caellon from writing his mother. He was entirely unsuccessful in that venture, currently hovering over his shoulder. 

“Cael.. you've never been to the south before. Your mother would have me hunted and my head mounted on a wall if you were so much as bruised.” Aelarias scoffed, it sounded a mix amused and horrified as Cael just kept writing. “Gods that would start a war on its own, no. Just, no Caellon.” He finished with a finality that would make the strictest parents envious. 

Aelarias was mildly surprised by how quickly Cael had stopped writing  and stood up, getting in his face. “I’m not asking Aelarias, you are taking me with. That’s an order.” His face was contorted into one of almost smug determination as he finished out his letter. Caellon went to his window and gently tied it to his favorite carrier pigeon, Juno. “She’ll never agree to that, I may have some form of curried favor but not nearly enough to be allowed to take you to the frozen wastes with me Cael.” 

Aelarias sounded downright exasperated at this point as he followed Caellon around, still trying in vain to dissuade him from his sudden desire to ‘leave the nest’. Caellons siblings proved to be no more helpful to his cause, saying they could take over his duties in his short absence and that it was ‘no trouble really’ and ‘it will be good for him to get out of the castle for once.’ Aelarias pinched his nose between two fingers in an effort to soothe his exasperation. 

Taking care of a whelp wasn’t all that much of a challenge he’d done that time and time again, but tacking on a fragile, rock-ribbed elven prince who had never so much as left the continent was a whole other thing. Gods he was stuck the surrogate again isn't he?

The three of them were set to leave in a few hours time a day later with Caels mother having received the letter and her response coming swiftly that morn. Oveks’s introduction to Caellon was going.. Poorly, to say the least. Aelarias in his humanoid visage was trying to help settle the little dragon. Well, little when compared to Aelarias or his mother anyways. Oveks was about the size of a small horse and had a bit of a nervous temper. 

“Come now Oveks, there's no need for biting.” Aelarias tried to tug his arm and sleeve from the whelp's maw but they weren't looking to budge. Oveks didn't want to see Cael, they didn’t like Cael. “You don’t even have a reason to dislike him.” Aelarias’s calm understanding was met with little other than a growl from Oveks, who met his eyes with a simultaneously pleading and irate gaze. “Oveks, a threat to either of us is something Cael will never be. An annoyance, well..” His gaze flickered over his shoulder to Cael, who was currently being hounded by all four of his older siblings with wishes of ‘be safe’ and largely unhelpful vague information about the south. “Kind of a given, but he means well, promise.” 

Oveks snorted doubtfully but relinquished their hold on his arm, lightly lathing their tongue on any punctures their teeth created. Aelarias lightly pet their snout before poking them in the nose lightly. “Thank you, that's a good start, now be nice, he just wants to help me get you home.” Oveks huffed but seemed to listen to him, taking on a less aggressive stance aside from him as he shifted back to his proper form. Cael got his final goodbyes in with his siblings and eventually walked back over to the two dragons.

Aelarias chuffed softly at him in a greeting of sorts, and crouched down low as he could to aid in Caellon’s climb. Soon as Cael was settled between the large neural spines between his shoulders and his things were settled, Oveks was in the air attempting to do simple flips and spirals to the amusement of the currently grounded dragon. Aelarias checked that Cael was settled before he took off himself, showing Oveks where an up current was so they wouldn't need to work their little wings as hard. They seemed to trill appreciatively and continued with their acrobatics as they flew together.

They had landed for the first time at the tip of the whale's tail at the end of the largely elven continent, resting late into that next morning before awakening to hunt for lunch? Dinner? It didn't matter really, the two smaller of the three ate well enough that early evening and set off again after they had decidedly had enough rest. Their main tactic being island hopping till they were in the true, frigid south.

After a long night’s flight over that final stretch of the southern sea, they landed on the black and grey sanded beach, Oveks basically ripping Caellon off his back and almost dropping him into the cold shallow water. “Behave.” He warned lightly as he walked along the coast, searching for any immediate dangers, finding none he relaxed and walked back over to the two who were now shivering slightly and noticeably damp.  “What did I just say?” He asked almost exasperated.

Aelarias extended a wing buffeting them from the sea's wind as well as the cool temperature of the night. “Let's find somewhere to rest for the night.” He received nods and grabbed the both of them by their scruff, carrying them deep into the pinewood to find some shelter. It was warmer here, but you could still feel the bite of summer winds. They traveled deeper and deeper, quietly traversing the forest and mapping their route with landmarks. The three of them had finally found somewhere sufficient to set up camp in the hollow of an impossibly old looking tree, safe and fairly warm. It didn’t take long for them to situate themselves, simply the act of insulating it, affixing a proper but temporary entrance, the matter of food and of course finally moving in.

Aelarias was lying on the side of the hollow nearest to the entrance, back facing the other two till a small voice spoke up and he felt something cold press to the marred flesh along his spine. “What this?” He was quiet for a moment, turning to look over his shoulder with a cool gaze, the soft light highlighting his facial scarring.  “..Scars Oveks.” 

The little dragon tilted their head the other direction and nosed the tissue again. “Why?”  He sighed softly and rolled onto his back, lightly patting Oveks on the snout. “Don’t quite think you’re seasoned enough for those stories fledgeling.” They snorted dissatisfied and nosed at the scar that tore from his right cheek up through his left eye and brow. 

“Don’t you dare.” Oveks seemed to think about it for a moment, before they abandoned any of their intelligence and tried to shove his head in their mouth. “Oi! Get off me you little bastard!” Aelarias’s brilliant counter was of course to get a forearm in there and shove them off, this had worked for him, giving enough wiggle room to flee to the other side of the hollow. He pointed an accusational finger at the fluffy reptile “It's bedtime! I may not be your brother by blood but you will respect the hierarchy!”

A defiant call echoed through the hollow and the dispute between the two dragons had officially started. Aelarias tried to keep it localized to one part of their den as to avoid Caellon receiving the full impact of the weight of a horse being thrown at him on accident. Eventually and obviously Aelarias had won and Oveks conceded to bedtime, curling up on the far side of the den and fell to sleep quite peacefully and quickly. Aelarias passively observed Cael trying to do the same, he could tell he was cold. Of course it was cold, it may have been in the middle of summer but it was nowhere near as warm as Kogalleis. “Cael, you cold?” He received a red faced glare and quietly walked over.

“Yeah yeah I know, hold on.” Aelarias carefully got the two of them situated in a manner that would provide Cael with the most amount of heat and they to, fell asleep.

On the morn of a few days passed the two boys had awoken to find no Oveks with them, Aelarias had barely gotten enough time to shift to his true form before a loud scared bugle sounded through the forest, alerting Aelarias and a number of others to their location. He had found Oveks quickly, though he wasn't alone in the feat. She was nearly the size of Aelarias though appeared noticeably older with one main set of ram like horns, the characteristic second set of southern dragons appeared as smoothed over nubs in velvet. 

Aelarias had reached them first however and Cael was soon at his side, sword drawn and held protectively adjacent from Oveks as Aelarias collected them. She growled and shoved Cael aside to go scent Oveks. Aelarias allowed it, recognizing the situation for what it was and took a more submissive and non threatening position to her. She shook her head and seemed disheartened after analyzing the scent. “..Not mine.” Aelarias tentatively set Oveks down between his forelegs and scented the air himself, catching the smell of fledgelings, hers, to the south of them, he hummed softly and turned to look at her again. “There's a scent leading down the river, could be yours.”

 She seemed to perk up at that and Aelarias nudged her lightly in encouragement.  “Go on lovely.” Cael sheathed his sword and walked up to be astride Oveks, still in a rather protective position. Caellon turned to the little dragon as she quietly took off south. “What happened? Why were you out of the hollow?” Oveks looked down at their little dark grey talons as their tail tucked up around them, the furred tip of it twitching nervously. “Looking..” Cael seemed to soften at that and gently pet Oveks in an attempt to comfort them. “I know, soon.”

Aelarias perked up as he walked over and his gaze scanned the sky before both Caellon’s and Oveks’s ears twitched. Two dragons glided over treetops vocalizing a whalesong to each other quietly, landing in a snowy clearing none too far from them. “Very soon.” Aelarias vocalized to them, wings tented over Oveks and Caellon in a protective manner. They responded with a call that was far too similar to Oveks for them not to be their parents. 

He chittered softly, approaching the smaller dragons with a light air of caution. They responded with a clicking sound, their sight paths traveling from Aelarias to Oveks smoothly. The larger of the two approached, rearing on his hindlegs to bump snouts with Aelarias, he then moved down to press his head to his chick, a low warble in his throat. Oveks reciprocated the noise, their tail wiggling behind them fervently. The second dragon approached not long after, following a similar pattern but additionally brushed their tongue over Aelarias’s snout before shifting focus to their hatchling. “Hello again..”

Aelarias and Caellon turned to take their leave but were halted once more by Oveks, who darted away from their parents  to stop their departure. “No- no, stay?” Aelarias leaned down and gently nudged Oveks. “No stay.” He confirmed softly, face pulling to a small frown when tears welled up in Oveks’s little brown eyes. “Oh don’t cry lovely, goodbye isn’t forever.” Oveks didn't respond, they were very focused on trying not to burst into tears and their claws tightened over the scales of his snout reflexively. “O-okay.”

A soft smile appeared on Aelarias’s face. “There we go, give us a smile hm? I’ll visit again soon.” Oveks finally seemed to perk back up at that and they genuinely smiled at him. “But now, I need to get Cael home, look at him all shivery, he’s miserable here and it's only the summer.” Oveks seemed to concede to that, giggling softly and brushing snouts with him a final time before letting go. “Bye bye Aelarias.” 

   “Goodbye for now, Oveks.”

Epilogue

It was a shorter flight from rather than to with them reaching  Kogalleis that Sunday. Caellon had asked Aelarias back to his chambers under the guise of wanting help settling back into his duties. “What did you want help with exactly Cae-” He had cut him off by pulling Aelarias into a tight hug, face buried into the juncture of his shoulder and neck. 

“..Thank you Aelarias. For everything.” He held him for a long time just basking in his presence, his being. Caellon tentatively peeled his face away from Aelarias’s neck, hands drifting up to his shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. He watched as Aelarias’s brows twitched together slightly and felt him start to pull away, his hands instinctively flew up to grab either side of his head and he tugged it closer to his own. 

Aelarias seemed to unconsciously pull a face and grabbed Caellon’s wrist, removing his hand from his face. “Cael what are you doing?” He froze up, he thought this could've been his moment, their moment but no. Still dense as ever. “Uhm, nothing, just wanted a better look at this is all.” He poked at the scar on his face lightly, trying valiantly to brush whatever just happened off. “It's uh, looking much better than it did that’s for sure.” 

Cael saw the subtle shift in Aelarias’s expression and watched him take a definitive step back from him and it took a lot not to grab him. He watched him move to look at the papers his brother had dropped off on his desk that morning. “What have we got to do?” Something in his chest twisted when Aelarias immediately moved on but he took it in stride, stepping up beside him to look at the papers. “Oh nothing much really, they took care of the bulk of it while we were off. Honestly they didn't leave me much else besides the arts.” “Hm, well.” Aelarias trailed off as he flicked through the papers and Cael stayed hovering near him. His brows raised when Alearias leaned back against him and there was the faintest flicker of hope in his chest and a small smile appeared on his face. Not today, but someday.

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 2/5

Book Blurb:

A captivating and profoundly moving novel with hints of supernatural intrigue, blending We Were Liars and Your Name into a can’t-miss read for fans of You’ve Reached Sam.

Thirty years ago, Grace’s mom left her hometown of Hermitage, Florida and never looked back—which is exactly why Grace thinks it’s the safest place to spend her summer now. Since her mom died in a car crash, Grace has been desperate to get away from the memories and reminders of her loss. Spending the summer transcribing cassette tapes for the Hermitage Historical Society might be boring, but boring is just what Grace needs.

Until she hears the voice of Jake Underwood—the boy who first recorded the cassette tapes back in 1992. When Grace realizes he can hear anything she records, despite thirty years of time between them, they strike up an impossible conversation through the tapes.

But the past isn’t any simpler than the present, and a mystery has haunted Hermitage through the generations. In the 1970’s, a hurricane made landfall and resulted in the tragic death of Jake’s uncle Charley. In a town as suffocatingly small as Hermitage, it’s impossible not to notice how no one talks about that storm, or Charley, and as the mystery unfurls, Grace can’t help but realize a worse truth: No one talks about Jake either. 

A beautifully written exploration of grief and what happens when untreated wounds bleed into future generations, The Underwood Tapes is the perfect read for anyone in need of a good, cathartic cry.

Review:

A teen girl deals with the grief of loosing her mother by transcribing the town's old cassette tapes but stumbles upon an unlikely connection to a boy from 1992....and a strange time bending relationship begins as they both try and uncover the mystery of the town. Grace is a eighteen year old girl who has taken a summer job in to transcribe cassette tapes for the Hermitage Historical Society. It's the perfect job to distract Grace from the grief of losing her mother in a car crash. Yet as she begins transcribing she begins hearing the voice of Jake Underwood, a boy from 1992 who can hear anything she records despite thirty years of time between them... they begin a conversation with one another. Jake needs Grace's help, he has a mystery to solve and in Grace time, no one talks about Jake... they both have to find answers but can they? Unfortunately this one was a miss for me, the mystery felt lackluster and Grace doesn't really do any investigating. I just didn't find myself all that sucked into the book and the story the way I wanted to be. I did like the relationship between Jake and Grace and the portrayal of grief in the story. It's a nice book but it just didn't fit my taste and didn't really suck me in unfortunately.

Release Date: February 4, 2025

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Holiday House / Peachtree / Pixel+Ink | Peachtree Teen for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[writingrosesonneptune]

Pelican Queen/Rain Summoner Excerpt

Series Introduction | Chapter One (also on AO3) | Updated Content Warnings

The first Act II chapters are now out on AO3! Han's full introductory chapter will be up sometime soon; in the meantime:

Sadira's younger sister makes landfall ill and alone and must decide what to do from there. We also find out what Dagny was actually up to. Approx. 1,000 words under the cut.

Content Warning for abduction, some violence, thalassophobia and drowning/near-drowning.

The sounds of the sea raged in Yanna’s ears. She lie on her back in the lifeboat, freezing and sore.

Lightning lit up the clouds. The one the sailors called Ghost-Hand threw a tarp over her to protect her from the elements, but the wind tore it back. Rain pelted her face.

Sailors surrounded her on creaking benches. In a fevered daze, she watched their arms strain at the oars as their boat lurched in the storm. Waves slapped the sides of the boat and knocked it closer to white spires of rock jutting from the ocean. The sailors flinched from the sting of the spray.

The sailors yelled at one another until their voices were as rough and raw as the storm. Ghost-Hand sat center on the bench opposite her, right fist tight on one oar, his blunt wrist fastened to the other.

He shouted over the roar of ocean and wind. “How far to the mine?”

One of the sailors squinted through sheets of rain. “Not too far,” she shouted back. “But the weather’s blown us off course. We’ll have to wait it out in the first cave we find.”

Cold, foaming water undulated beneath the benches. Yanna freed her hand from the sodden blanket and reached her fingers into the surge. Her mind grew clearer as she focused on the power writhing in the storm.

Sharp beads of rain softened as they hit her. She focused on the weight of them as they soaked into her skin, soothing scrapes and sunburns she had earned at sea.

Many days had she spent staring at the mosaics back home, wishing for the talent of her siblings and their ancestors. She had studied the ancient figures pushing and pulling the tide in the tiles, the gentle arc of their arms as they quelled a cyclone.

The fever left her too weak to calm the sea or soften the rain. But the blood rushing through her hand told her she could guide the boat to safety. If she could just sit up and reach her hand into the water, she could direct the waves to take them where she wanted. But then the sailors could take her where they wanted, likely to Giuliana, and she would be captive for who knew how long.

Panic knotted in her throat as thunder rolled overhead.

A cold shadow fell over the boat as they rowed into a cave. The waves jostled them against the rock floor even after they dropped anchor. Yanna closed her eyes and tried not to throw up what little remained in her stomach.

Her head pounded. Her throat stung with every breath. In the end, she was too afraid to remain unaware of what progress the sailors made, and she forced her eyes to stay open.

Ghost-Hand surveyed the cave entrance with quick, sweeping glances. “You’re familiar with these salt caverns,” he said to the sailor who answered him earlier. “Do all of them have more than one exit?”

The sailor twisted the ends of her tarp to wring out the water. It hit the flooded floor of the lifeboat with a splash. “Hardly none. This one looks like another abandoned mine. Sea must’ve damaged the back tunnels.”

Yanna’s plan expanded as she listened to them. She still had a chance to escape before they reached their destination.

She moved her hand back and forth in the floodwater. It rushed from one side of the boat to the other, slowly gathering momentum. She moved her hand faster. The sailors were too busy fighting to steady the boarding plank to notice.

Yanna urged the water to move faster still. The waves smashed the lifeboat against the cave floor. She clenched her jaw to hold her resolve. She felt like her head would burst as the lifeboat slammed back and forth on the water. The boards started to creak and split apart from the pressure.

A leak sprang at the side of the boat, and the water level rose to the sailors' knees. They jumped from the benches and raced to grab emergency supplies.

Ghost-Hand shouted a curse as the boat tipped backward. He looked at Yanna with a flash of realization.

The sailors hurled water out of the boat, but it was too late. The sailor Ghost-Hand had consulted earlier managed to leap from the benches onto the cave floor, but the ground was slick. She lost her footing and fell face-first, motionless on the rock. Another grabbed onto her ankle to help heave himself onto the treacherous slab, scrabbling to find purchase.

Rather than manipulate the surf to ensure he met a similar fate, a more pressing issue kept Yanna’s efforts elsewhere.

The force of the tide grappled with her as she struggled to throw off the heavy tarp. It floated beside her briefly before sinking below the swirling grey-and-green surface of the water. As she tried to swim around it to the ledge, her foot caught in the tangle of fabric.

 Fear prickled in back of her mind. The tarp pulled her down, and she lost focus.

 As soon as she did, the sea’s onslaught turned fiercer. She felt the terrible pull of the lifeboat as it sank at the center of a small whirlpool. Panic engulfed her. Saltwater poured into her nose and through the gaps in her teeth. Saline overwhelmed her senses, filling her with despair and the certainty of death. Her strength left her as quickly as it had come.

Two sailors who’d made it to solid ground were still desperate for the reward they were promised for her capture. They worked as a team to drag the edges of the tarp toward them as if she were a fish caught in their net. Their tugs separated her from the thick wool at last.

Yanna floundered, still gasping for air. She paddled away from them, but she couldn’t swim far.

Ghost-Hand, who had early on thrown himself into water far from both the lifeboat and the shelf of rock, swam towards her. She thought he was going to save her, as he had once before, but his expression turned cloudy when he got close. He stopped and retracted his hand.

The shock spurred Yanna to fight again. She twisted in the water, pushed her soles against his chest, and kicked away from him. She swam for the mouth of the cave, but the pull of the whirlpool was too great.

She grabbed onto a flotsam board bobbing nearby.

 Somebody’s hand clamped around her wrist and held fast. It was the sailors again. They had almost pulled her to the cave floor. Ghost-Hand maneuvered towards them and pulled Yanna out of their grip.

 He didn’t want the sailors to have her, but neither did he seem to mind the thought of her drowning. Why?

Yanna held fast to her piece of driftwood and kicked away from him a second time. His grip was solid.

 They were close to shore, they had to be. If she followed her instincts rather than fear, she could make it to the beach and leave this long nightmare behind. She closed her eyes and urged the sea to float her from the site.

 One of the waves curled over her face and filled her nose with saltwater yet again. She resisted the urge to gasp for air until the wave rolled past and broke Ghost-Hand’s grip on her. Coughing and sputtering, she watched through bleary eyes as the current pushed him out of reach, towards the dwindling whirlpool.

 He tumbled back in the surf, grasping at debris from the boat as it span around him. He caught an upended chest and whipped around, eyes searching, while the waves carried her out of the cave and into the rain. She caught a last glimpse of his face, as round and pale as the moon, watching her as he disappeared from view.

 Yanna let the current push her through the maze of white, glistening rocks jutting from the seabed.

The sailors’ cries vanished under the waves. They couldn’t hope to reach her now.

Yanna heaved a shaky sigh and rested her cheek on the board. She floated along like that for a long time.

-

 The rain stopped. Listlessness returned to Yanna, and when the water became shallow, her strength left altogether. She lie still and let the tide propel her the rest of the way to shore. Sandbars dragged beneath her feet, and sharp reefs cut at her ankles. It was all she could do to stay afloat.

 The sea pushed her onto a pebble-strewn beach. She lie stiff and battered on the shore, feeling relief only when the tide washed over her legs. Drenched from the sea, every breeze riding on the dusk brought another bout of violent shivering that seized her to her core.

 The raucous noise of city life carried in a steady thrum somewhere above her. She tried to crawl towards the noise, but her arms refused to carry her. Now that she was on land, illness stole back into her body. She could barely keep her eyes open.

 “I’m not dying,” she said, hoping the words would fool her body. Her voice came out in a croak, no louder than a whisper. The effort seared her throat, but she whispered them over and over again, desperate and afraid of falling asleep. Tears stung her eyes.

 The world faded into blurred shadows and muffled noises. She opened her eyes again when footsteps crunched in the pebbles nearby.

Read more on AO3

🌊PQ Taglist: @cowboybrunch @saturnine-saturneight @tabswrites

As always, let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!

[tellmegoodbye]

What would 911: Sunshine* look like?

*Texas = the Lonestar state, Florida = the Sunshine state

LEMON!! This is my dream!!!

And yes 911: Sunshine is absolutely what I would call it!

Okay so first of all, location! I think the city a spinoff would most likely take place in is Miami, but in order for me to really personalize this (it's my dream, I do what I want) I'm going to switch things up and have this take place in my city: Tampa!

This location is interesting for many reasons, but mostly because of its layout and it being on the bay. The city itself is probably where most of the show would take place in terms of emergencies, but there's a lot going on here for a city on the smaller side! Of course, there will also be opportunities to see the rest of the bay area. (Tampa is the city, Tampa Bay is the region)

Here are some potential locations/ideas for emergencies

Skyway Bridge. Visually, it's just stunning, and yes many people are scared to drive on it. It collasped once over 40 years ago and it has safety mechanisms to prevent such an event from happening again, but I'm sure a 911 spinoff would get creative and find another way to make something go wrong.

The airport. Like 3x08 except worse because I have a chaos brain.

The arena where the Tampa Bay Lightning play.

Busch Gardens (a theme park)

Pick a beach. Any beach.

Literally tons of forest area where there could be a wildfire. Also tons of natural springs and rivers where you could have accidents.

Toursists. There is never a shortage of snowbirds being idiots in these parts.

Ybor City. There's a LOT of history here. It's also just a really cool place to explore. They have parades here (I've been in a few of them!) so maybe something goes wrong there.

Alligators. 🐊

Now lets talk major disaster arcs. 911 OG has earthquakes and tsunamis, Lone Star has ice storms and tornadoes, and 911: Sunshine would have a massive hurricane arc.

We kind of have an interesting history with hurricanes in Tampa Bay, at least in my lifetime, where every time we're about to get hit it shifts last minute and everyone who evacuated inland ended up being directly in its path. This happened with Charley in 2004, and Ian in 2022. Both made landfall in the exact same spot after shifting away from the bay area, which is kind of eerie.

I'd say a disaster arc like this would have one finally directly hitting the bay, and it would be a lot like the tsunami in 911. Very angsty, similar scenarios where peolpe go missing, and potential for the kind of water rescues Marjan was talking about doing back in Miami.

One little fun fact before I go. This doesn't apply to the city of Tampa, but I absolutely had to share this. If you venture out into the rest of the county like where I live, the firetrucks and ambulances are a lovely highlighter yellow! Or is it green? I've never been able to tell.

Don't ask me why. I have no idea. 😂

[beantothemax]

the chaotic oc weirdgirl arc begins...

Chapter One:

Short prologue with 19-year-old Tyrri showing her concept for her dissertation to her professor: A Study on the Interactions of Ecology and Magic in the Farlands

“Tyrri… this is a lot. Are you sure that you can -” “YES I CAN PROFESSOR”

Might include a real actual smash cut just for this scene because that would be HILARIOUS

The ship is mostly populated by ordinary cargo workers, with a small quarters belowdecks for the handful of scholars from the University of Cunningsworth that are heading over

Scrutinise tutorial introduces our main cast of characters: Elias and Lia Aegir, Sebastian Ararius, and Catena Novi

Elias is like. The stereotypical rich one. I know I’m so creative but most of these guys aren’t gonna show up much save for one.

He’s not a bad guy though, just a little disconnected from the others

He’s headed to the Farlands with his research partner and sister, Lia, to study a specific group of local birds that they believe may share an evolutionary ancestor with common Howlers back on the mainland but had diverged from them long ago

Lia is a lot more grounded than her brother but still has that very rich girl feel to her

They’re both nice people just a little… eccentric

Might give them a postgame side quest

Sebastian is a geologist looking to study the bluffs on the northwest of the Farlands (across the Sea Unsundered from the Fjordlands)

A bit more of your classic looking in a book and is surprised when you talk to him because didn’t notice you kinda guy

Not a lot of notes on him

Catena is sitting on the bunk above where Tyrri sleeps and is constantly scrawling in a notebook

Tyrri also notably is a notebook girlie and tries to strike up conversation with her about that and gets shut down HARD

Catena (Tyrri quickly starts calling her “Cat”, with no response still) fully does not talk to anyone throughout the entire trip

Her bunk is also covered in papers. Like so many.

She’s the only other scholar of magic besides Tyrri but isn’t talking to people so she can’t swap ideas and by ALEPHAN please talk to me I want to know your RESEARCH

CAT. CAT PLEASE TALK TO ME.

Sorry about that Tyrri got a hold of the keyboard there

After making landfall in the exploratory colony of Seekersgate (the only town in the Farlands), Tyrri quickly starts moving to get out into the vast world and collect some SAMPLES. Let’s GO. (okay apparently slipping slightly into character is gonna be like. my new thing for this outline. fun stuff)

Synergise tutorial with just chatting with townsfolk that night. Most of the residents are scholars so after a lively discussion (represented by a fight) a lot of them will just say “this kid’s got some really cool ideas” and join you in your endeavours

Poke around on some forest paths for a while before happening upon a spring over and over (seems like a lot of the paths lead to it)

Jump back into cutscene mode for a research timelapse (lesgo)

Tyrri gradually comes to the conclusion that not only are many of the island’s magical creatures concentrated in this area, many of them also trace back to this one particular spring (this conclusion is made with some help from the siblings Aegir, who are more than happy to do some cool biology stuff with you)

With the help of Sebastian, who pinpoints the source of the spring as being a certain underground cavern, Tyrri is able to go on a little journey underground and find…

The First Dungeon: The Otherworldly Wellspring

This dungeon (which sadly doesn’t exist) is just such a treat for the eyes

Little streams of water lit up by glowing pink-and-purple crystals that stud the walls

It’s… bright, strangely, considering that it’s underground

No ideas for what kind of enemies we’d be fighting here sorry…

Anyways reaching the end of this place, Tyrri and Sebastian find themselves at a lake (he’s your helper for the fight ahead)

The duo start to take samples of the water, but as they start taking samples of the crystals themselves, they find that they lose their shine as soon as they’re chipped off of the walls of the cave

And something doesn’t like that they’re trying to take the crystals.

Emerging from the centre of the lake is a sea serpent that, uncoiled, easily could reach through the entire path to the underground lake out into the daylight (she is SO coiled up)

Tyrri and Sebastian quickly conclude that there is no way to run from them, they’ll just catch up

They refuse to listen to your claims that you were doing this for science and didn’t plan on being invasive, kicking off…

The First Boss: Guardian of the Wellspring

Starting things off with a fun magic snake

It has one bite attack but other than that it’s running magic

Element-wise there’s a focus on fire/ice/lightning (we’ll be seeing a lot of that in this story even outside of Tyrri’s moveset)

Not a ton of notes on this guy sorry

After a certain point: a lot of coils come out of the water, all of them are weak to Lightning, prompts Latent Power

In terms of help Sebastian has mostly skills focused on SP (probably one to restore his own and one to restore Tyrri’s)

Might have Lightning Bolt I haven’t decided yet

After the battle, the serpent calms down enough to listen to reason

Is very conspicuously trying to hide a passage that leads further down into the cave, Tyrri and Sebastian politely don’t mention it until they leave the cave

Says that the crystals draw their magic from the island itself; but the water is steeped with magic and it wouldn’t be too much of a problem to take a little to study

The duo exits the cave, talks a bit about the passage leading deeper, and separates

It isn’t focused on but if you look in the background after this scene concludes Catena is hiding behind a tree, listening in

Tyrri, holding a few test tubes of cave water in her bag, realises that she’ll need a bit of help deciphering its magical secrets and hops on the next ship that could take her back to the mainland, bound for the University of Cunningsworth

!!! TYRRI!!!!!!!!! her story seems really fun!!!!

I’m an avid supporter of you going slightly into character in your story details, it’s fun to read!

it is an actual crime that the otherworldly wellspring isn’t real because the way you describe it makes it sound so pretty

I like this a lot so far!!!!

[chromatic-lamina]

Thought I would put part of Artur’s analysis from Library of Ohara about Saul’s status as Dr. /Professor:

However, as they prepare to make landfall, something happened. A giant comes in screaming on the upper levels where the town is, claiming that Saul-sensei has collapsed and can’t move. Now first of all, Saul here is referred to as “sensei”. This is something that was already hinted at during Egghead, when Dorry and Brogy seemingly referred to Saul as a “scholar”. “Sensei” as you likely know is a honorific referring to someone who is a teacher or master in some craft, so in this case he would be “Professor Saul”. This would make sense, as he was the one who preserved the research and Library of Ohara, so it makes sense if he tried to educate himself to become a scholar and understand more about the Void Century. However in this case he has seemingly collapsed, or “taoreta” in Japanese, “to fall”, and can’t move due to some reason. Just what happened to him? And who is this giant bearing the news whose face is covered? What about the mysterious silhouette we saw a while ago at Elbaph? I suppose these mysteries will explain themselves soon as we get into the thick of the Elbaph arc!

One Piece Chapter Discussion (Chapter 1131)

After a two week break, One Piece is back! And right into the action! Which is something that’s so interesting to me. That the more arcs we pass by, the faster the velocity of storytelling is. In that, because Oda has to set up less and less with each and every arc that goes by, as he builds out the lore more and more, we get into the story much much faster. With Elbaph we’ve already been launched headfirst into what seems to be the foundation for the main conflict, with so much information from the past finally coming home to roost with each chapter passed. But we’ll get into that below the cut!

To start off with, Oda really emphasises the Giant’s Strength here. And if you remember, he’s made it a point to not really show Dorry and Broggy’s full potential. They were incapacitated and had only fought each other before. So it’s interesting how not only is the giant’s strength built up in kind of a fable-esque way but also Loki’s as it took the entirety of Elbaph to restrain him. And not just Elbaph but maybe even Shanks too! But we’ll get into that later. 

There’s two interesting revelations that happen in the next few pages. One is Loki’s personality. It seems to me and many others that he’s being built up as a mirror to Luffy, especially in the way that he gets Luffy’s name wrong. But also in that he befriends animals quickly and is associated with sun imagery. And even though he is a little conniving; his internal dialogue vowing to kill Luffy and later purposefully riling Luffy up about Shanks, I think the similarities make it so that he can’t be anything but an ally. And furthermore, he was introduced to us chained up. Oda and One Piece have shown us time and time again that imprisonment and incarceration are one of the greatest evils in the world. And having a character introduced in such a way really sways me towards the conclusion that he’s a good guy. Also, a fun thing is that it seem I was somewhat right with my predictions towards Hel and the underworld and maybe even the Pluto design from last chapter’s discussion. Also could Impel Down be based on Elbaph?

But maybe the more interesting thing is that Loki mentions that the nation of Elbaph is built around the Jewel Tree Adam. In other translations I’ve also heard it as Treasure Tree Adam. And if we recall Franky’s words about it before, it seems to line up with what Elbaph is. A nation consistently at war. A nation that’s burned to the ground and been rebuilt, maybe even many times. At the very least we saw one of those instances with Big Mom. So, is Elbaph, like the other island centered around a tree; Fish-Man Island, also fated for destruction? So what form does that war and destruction take? At the very least we know that after Dorry and Broggy left, the original Giant Pirates once railed against the Government. They were captured and Mother Caramel acted as a diplomat between the humans and giants to save them. So it appears that Elbaph has always been raging against the world government. Freaky’s tale of cannonballs raining from the sky reeks of one thing; Buster Calls! Could it be that over the years since the void century, Elbaph has been the victim of countless Buster Calls? And much like how harbours and coasts call people to settle by them, the indestructible nature of the Jewel Tree Adam beckons these warlike Giants who are prone to losing their homes? 

Now, to get back to Shanks, he makes this equation of the Warland much much more interesting. So Loki’s followers talk about Shanks. And Loki says he’s been imprisoned for Six years. Along with that, he has a special bounty set by the world government. Shanks also became an Emperor six years ago. Now all that adds up to three very interesting and different conclusions. One is that, Shanks helped the Giants to subdue Loki and because of this, gained their support. Because of their strength added with his, the World Government began to see him as an Emperor. The second is that Loki was wild and unruly, and was possibly someone who could do some serious damage to the World Government with the Giants in tow. And the world government basically commissioned Shanks to subdue him to prevent war. Finally, the third and most likely conclusion, is something that adds to Shank’s nebulous personality. That, not only did he aid Elbaph and get their support but he also did it on behalf of the World Government to prevent future conflicts and maintain a balance, also acting as a diplomat and a sort of new age Mother Carmel. Which begs the question, does Shanks know something every specific and important or is he just really really committed to keeping the world at peace? It would be weird for it to be the latter as hes a pirate and literally friends with Warland so I’m leaning towards the former. 

Finally a few closing comments unrelated to the earlier points. Now, we’ve seen the location of all members of all the New Giant Pirates with Stansen and Hajrudin in the underworld hunting for meat for the Straw Hats. We see them mention that they can’t use something called a Painter which is a sunstone that doesn’t work in the underworld presumably due to there being no sun. Maybe they’re technology like the dials? I’ve always assumed the dials were from the Void Century and Ancient Kingdom so maybe it’s from that time too? Also if you don’t remember, we first saw Stansen in Sabaody right alongside Rayliegh, He was a slave Rayliegh freed and he vowed to help Luffy if he ever needed it. Also, Goldberg and Gold holding the Sunny and running along the bridge really helps put things into perspective. The perspectives been a bit skewed ever since we got into Elbaph but it seems to be evening out now. That Giant sword through Elbaph kinda reminds me of the perspective of Onigashima. Maybe things like those were the weapons of the Ancient Giant Continent Pullers like Oars, them probably being killed off by the World Government in the Void Century. It’s interesting though that those weapons were found in two territories the government isn’t allowed much in, Wano and Elbaph. 

Moving on though, while hunting for Franky’s explanation of the Jewel Tree Adam, I stumbled on this panel of Iceburg promising to make Water Seven into a ship, and alongside with the information we’ve gotten thus far, what if the Jewel Tree Adam is the key to saving the world by helping all the islands float? Just a thought. But I am curious to see how Iceburg saves Water Seven.

Finally we get to Robin and Saul and I really hope Saul falling down is a psychout. If it was Saul and not Scopper Gaban waiting for the Straw Hats it could be that to deal with the Ice Burns Aokiji inflicted on to him, Saul began to drink. Otherwise it could jut be a gag or maybe for real. Also was Saul always a doctor? And finally, now that Robin has her bangs back, all is right with the world! See ya next chapter!

[schnees-and-schnugs]

The worst thing about this whole "blaming/judging" Whitley for everything is that I don't mind the show being as mean as they want to to the character, as long the show acknowledges that the narratives been unfair to him at any point lol

That's one thing I can hope for with the possible Winter and Whitley rift in the Vacuo arc. If they wanna have moments of Winter laying onto Whitley and little of the energy back from his end, can they at least have something in the narrative to indicate that it's possible that Winter can maybe sort of not be right for it?

I just want it to be fair.

I don't mind Whitley being a little shit. I don't mind him being toxic. In fact I love it when he's toxic, I love it when he clearly has issues with maintaining relationships in his life due to trauma. Because that's interesting! It was fascinating to me when willow told Weiss why Whitley hated her. And you know what was fascinating? Because it's a great inversion of what a lot of the fandom originally thought.

I mean, I was always sympathetic to Whitley, but many considered him just a little spoiled brat, a "mini Jacques" (although I despise that term because in what world is it okay to refer to a child abuse victim as a miniature version of their manipulative groomer abuser. Does that mean I can refer to winter as a mini-ironwood now? Or is that not okay suddenly? Hmmm? 🤨)

But now were faced with the proposition that not only was Whitley not just a little selfish prick and was lashing out probably due to feelings of being trapped alone with his abusers for the foreseeable future, Weiss was also in the wrong here because she was clearly incredibly self- centered when it came to her little brother.

People often forget that if beacon hadn't fell, Weiss wouldn't have been in vale for *four years*. That's what Whitley faced, four years alone of being trapped with his two abusers, the sole person around for Jacques to take out his ire on and for willow to ignore while drinking herself to death. And Weiss! Didn't! Care!

And that's great. Because guess what? We know Weiss is a good person but your hero having flaws and being in the wrong makes for great character development. It would literally be Weiss coming full circle, acknowledging the girl she was when she first left for beacon and how she's changed for the better. Nobody would have watched Weiss reaching out to Whitley, swallowing her pride a bit in the process (because I am aware Whitley is also in the wrong too) and went 'oh wow I really liked Weiss before but I gotta say I really hate her character now after she took on the role of the bigger person and reached out to her 14 year old little brother to make amends as the culmination of the emotional maturity she gained over the course of eight volumes :/'.

Because yes RWBY fndm, your heroes being considerate, humble, modest, not prideful, kind, and most of all merciful and understanding are good qualities for a hopepunk protagonist? Especially to kids younger than them? Sticking a weapon in an abandoned and scared 14 year olds face and then ignoring them during a life or death situation just to hug them suddenly in a very lovebomb-ey way when they do something for you is kind of the opposite of the "trust love" vibes that the writers desperately wanted me to get from the atlas arc.

(tangent: And it just seems to me like the writers are just incredibly insecure. They're afraid to make their main characters look bad in any sort of way- so they can never be wrong. They can never swallow their pride or take the initiative to make amends. It always has to be someone elses fault. It has to be ozpin who apologizes to them despite the fact that team RWBY were in the exact same situation as him and took the same route. Team RWBY keeps atlas grounded where it is and that allows Salem to make landfall and attack the kingdom, but ironwood is evil and bad for at least trying to keep the Grimm at bay while team RWBY whine and drink tea in a mansion- and everything gets handed to team RWBY in the eleventh hour to give them a win.)

And given that winter is the perfect completely blameless demographic in RWBY (pretty, white, big tits, abuse victim, female, also did I mention big tits?) I'd be very very surprised if anything is fair between her and whitley. They would definitely blame Whitley for being a brainwashed 9 year old or whatever when he rejected winter. They would definitely put it on Whitley to prove to winter that he's not literally evil incarnate. They definitely wouldn't even have winter acknowledge that she hurt Whitley in any meaningful capacity. Winter could lay onto him and the writers would bend over backwards to justify why exactly that is okay and why Whitley 100% deserved it and infact he should apologize to her for just existing in her presence. Honestly, I wouldn't even be surprised if they do a comedic haha super funny callback to Weiss sticking her weapon in whitley's face except it's winter and incredibly girlboss guys!!!! It's just a hostile 20 something adult woman threating a defenseless minor with a weapon, you're telling me that you don't find that absolutely hilarious? Fucking rwde scum. /s

Anyways, I don't expect it to be fair and I completely expect that whatever MKEK writes will leave a very bad taste in my mouth because that's what they always do. And if I'm wrong feel free to put me on blast and go on anon to tell me to kill myself or whatever.

[cosmicjoke]

Well, I finally had a chance to watch the final episode for Attack on Titan, until the third part debuts, and man oh man, I really don’t have the words.

First, I just want to take my hat off to MAPPA for doing an absolutely extraordinary job of adapting SnK this season.  I never felt the criticisms were at all justified, and this 2nd part has only solidified that feeling for me.  Everything, from the animation, to the music, to the sound editing, voice acting and direction, has been beyond superb, and truly captured the gravitas, drama, intensity, tragedy and poignancy of this final arc of what is genuinely one of the greatest manga’s I’ve ever had the pleasure to read.  This last episode was no exception.

The entire final half, after the flashback, was intensely dramatic, and intensely heartbreaking, and the first half, going into the flashback, when the Survey Corps attempted to go to Marley to try and find some kind of accord through peace, only for them to slam up against their uncompromising, immovable prejudice and malice, truly laid the groundwork for the tragic and overwhelming destruction that the episode ends on.

All I could think, in those final seconds, when the millions of Colossal titans forced their way through the gathered forces of the world, and began to make landfall, and we’re shown the horrified, stricken faces of the soldiers as they can only watch their own, approaching doom, was “This is the destruction you’ve reaped with your own hatred.”.  Seeing the callback to Eren, watching his mother devoured by a titan, and then his terrifying conviction as he states that he’s going to wipe them all out, all of his enemies, was truly heart stopping.  This truly was the culmination, truly the consequence, of generational guilt, generational blame.  Of holding accountable innocent people for crimes they didn’t commit.  For continuing to hate others for nothing more than an accident of birth.  This is the result of uncompromising ideology and prejudice. 

We see Eren, and all of the Scouts, pushed to the brink, backed into a corner with no choice, and through, most tragic of all, no fault of their own.  They came to Marley with genuine hope, even as logic told them that success was unlikely.  But still, they held to that hope, only to have it thrown back in their faces, and dashed cruelly, as first they were faced with the hatred of the general populace, out in the market, and later, in the assembly, the futility of their mission driven home completely.  And we see how it’s this moment, this hopelessness, and the uncompromising rejection against him and his people, which drives Eren to accept the future he saw, and embrace it.   Which ignites in him that drive he’s had since boyhood, to fight, and win, at all costs.

I think what made this all particularly affecting was the juxtaposition of the flashback, with the present.  The hopefulness and brightness of the members of the Survey Corps getting to experience the wonders of the outside world for the first time in their lives, their excitement and happiness, was genuinely moving.  So to have those moments of hope and happiness contrasted with the despair of reality, the cruelty and unfairness of their situation, only made the tragedy of the whole thing that much more powerful. 

The world condemned and shunned the Eldian’s of Paradis, and threatened their very existence, their very right to live, for the past one hundred years, showing no signs, no indication, of softening their stance, or rethinking their hatred.  They left them no choice, and in the end, it was them who engineered the Rumbling themselves, by continuing to press their hatred upon a group of people who didn’t even know they existed.  It was them who created Eren, the tool of their own demise. 

What an incredible job MAPPA has done here.  They’ve done true justice to this incredible story, created by an incredible artist in Hajime Isayama.  Thank you MAPPA, for bringing this final arc so spectacularly to life, and for imbuing it with all the depth, weight, drama, intensity, tragedy, and important it deserves.  It’s going to be hard waiting for part 3. 

[tokiro07]

Thank you for bringing this up!

I actually wanted to talk about that, but A) I didn't feel like doing the math, and B) it wasn't directly germane to what I was talking about

My take on the Sick fight was that the timer started the moment that the clone fully manifested based on the amount of soul that Andy charged the Parts Bullet with

Typically, Andy's parts would vanish after 30 seconds, as established in ch.3, and Victor's clones didn't have an established time limit, so Andy's clone getting a full minute seemed to me to be a clear mark of improvement in his capacity

However, the question remains: when did Andy fire the Parts Bullet?

The speed of light is Mach 874,030, so if Andy were moving at Mach 1800, about 485 times slower than the light of the sun, then the 8 minutes that it would take light to reach Earth would translate to 3,884 minutes, or about 65 hours for Andy. Given the perfect timing, I doubt Andy had 2.71 days' notice to fire off his hand and just happened to make landfall at the moment he was most needed

At earliest I would assume he must have fired it the moment that Sick escaped the Master Room in preparation for the fight, and at latest the moment that Fuuko's hair touched Rip and summoned the meteor

There's not really a good way to estimate how long Sick was roaming free or how long the fight took, but we know that between his appearance and Andy's arrival, the following events occurred:

a five minute span for Rip to get back to the hospital with the girls from the beach

the prep time for Leila's surgery

the manifestation of Unrepair

Latla pleading with Rip to let her fight with him

the Blade Runner amputations

Fuuko performing Latla's surgery while everyone else fought Sick

Rip getting hit with Unluck

A generously low estimate would put that entire sequence of events at about half an hour, I think, assuming each event averaged five minutes and Andy showed up mere seconds after the meteor was first summoned. If Andy fired the Parts Bullet at the moment of Sick's arrival, that would mean it took Andy at least 1800 seconds to reach Earth, at least 3.6 times slower than light, at about 670,000 miles per second. If it all took an hour, double that

I've kind of lost the plot on how to run any further calculations, but the point is that no matter how you look at it, Korosensei's Mach 20 is completely blown out of the water, and Andy would be considered the faster of the two despite the fact that he's not presented as being a particularly speedy character

The point of this feat was never to demonstrate Andy's speed, but his proficiency with Undead, his reliability as Fuuko's partner, his utility in fighting the Master Rules, and his location for the remainder of the series until the final arc, but all of that would be lost and ignored in a direct comparison of battle capability against a character from another series

I'm not one for powerscaling, but I had a thought

In most media, a character's feats aren't typically given hard numbers because usually the creator doesn't have a degree in physics and just wants to show something cool. This results in, for example, characters doing things that are, logically, faster than the speed of light, even if the creator didn't intend for that to be the case

In Assassination Classroom, Korosensei's speed is capped at Mach 20. This means that, canonically, even if he does something that should logically exceed Mach 20, the internal logic of the series dictates that that can't possibly be the case

If you were to compare Korosensei's faster-than-the-eye movements to, say, Undead Unluck's Andy, who has never been shown to be so fast that no one could even see him, you'd conclude that Andy must be moving at significantly less than Mach 20, right?

That may be true in general, but Andy has proven that he is perfectly capable of far exceeding Mach 20 through one specific feat: firing a Finger Bullet from the sun

First, let's consider how Andy even got to the sun in the first place. He either went straight there once he regained consciousness while drifting in space, or he got sent back to Earth and then launched himself to it. If the latter, that would mean that Andy, even if only firing a single finger, would have needed to fire it at Mach 33, over 1.5 times faster than Korosensei

If the former, we still know he's capable of that speed because he was able to fire back to Earth from the sun, which has an escape velocity of Mach 1800

Even if you assume that that's just one single burst of speed from Andy's blood and not a speed he can maintain or control beyond firing in a straight line (which is obviously not true since he had the precision to land basically right in front of Fuuko), that's still 90 times faster than Korosensei, meaning that all he'd need to do is get ahold of a tiny amount of Anti-Sensei Material and he'd be able to hit him without any chance of missing. At that speed, Korosensei probably wouldn't even have time to enter Absolute Defense Form

TLDR; no matter how impressive you want to make your character sound on paper, using hard numbers has had the unintended consequence of making characters seem weaker due to the internet's fascination with power scaling, so even a near-unkillable character like Korosensei would absolutely lose against most lesser-defined characters in the context of power-scaled matchups like Death Battle. This is, to me, a detriment to the enjoyment of things like battle shonen because that mentality leads one to care deeply about those hard numbers and less about the intended spectacle itself

[the-wayward-arc]

How did the Legion react to Jaune and Pyrrha having their first child?

The Kingdom. No! The planet was in a frenzy! It wasnt an attack! The Emperor of Mankind was not coming to see his son. No! The Matriach, Pyrrha Arc-Nikos, was finally going into labor! Their first child was on their way! The young doctor had been selected by the Primarch Jaune himself for this delicate operation. He made his way towards the delivery room, passing not only nurses and other doctors but Remnant knights as well. Paladins to be exact, the Remnant Knights honor guard were the body guards to not only the Primarch but to the Matriarch as well. Dozens filled the hallways and even more stood guard outside her room, bolsters at the ready. Dyson couldn't help but gulp, the deer faunus steeled himself as he neared Pyrrha's room, stopping when the two Paladins blocked his path.

"Identification." One commanded, Dyson nodded, presenting his ID as a servo skull floated down, scanning the card before floating back to the shoulder of the Paladin.

"You may enter Doctor." Dyson respectfully bowed before heading in. The room was large, of course so was everything else to accommodate the space marines and the Primarch but it was still some getting used to.

"Dyson, is everything prepared?" Dyson looked up at the one speaking, Jaune arc, Primarch of the 11th legion and one of the Emperor of mankind's sons. Standing at an impressive 9 feet bordering 10 feet tall, the Primarch was no longer in his power armor but wore clothes made to fit onto his large muscular frame.

"Yes my lo-"

"Dyson....you know that's not needed." Jaune chuckled as Pyrrha smiled, it was strain but still genuine.

"I'm sorry Jaune, been doing that all day. Not used to being on a first name basis with a Primarch you know!" Dyson stated, laughing a bit. "But it's time we move her to the delivery room, and get ready!" With that, both nodded as Jaune gently held Pyrrha's hand in his own large one.

-Gloriana-class Battleship, Juniper, bridge, hours later-

Deery stood close, having been made a Remembrancer, she was to document everything of importance and right now, she was busy. She took pictures and had her servo-skull record everything she said or heard. Pictures of the battle fleets protecting Remnant at this most important of times! Ships from both the thousand sons and Salamanders fleets were here alongside some Remnant battleships as well! At first it was only a small force of Remnant knight ships with juniper protecting the world, since most were still needed for the great crusade but when a small faction of rebels had tried to make landfall by coming out of the warp away from the Juniper, only to be stopped by the timely arrival of Photep, Lord Magnus the Red's personal Gloriana battleship. The Crimson King had a premonition of something happening and such sent forth some ships he could spare. Lord Vulkan followed suit and as such, Deery could see enough ships here to level a star system! She gulped as she wrote down what she heard from the various voices on the ship. She looked up to Arael Drarax, second in command of the Remnant Knights and his Primarch's most favored son, he was given command of the Juniper and he took it seriously. He stared intently into the void of space, his skull like helmet may hide his face but the aura he gave off told all she needed to know.

"Remembrancer Deery, hear this. My Primarch is to have a child, not one take from his mother but one born of his own blood. Created by him and the Matriach together, she is to be the heiress to his bloodline and to the Remnant Knights." He looked at her, she felt so smaller than she actually was as he stared at her. "Do you swear loyalty to not only the Primarch but his bloodline as well?" He asked her.

"Y-yes! My L-lord! I do!" She stated, he looked at her longer before looking back the voidness, satisfied with her answer. His cape waved a bit as he turned around.

"Many see this as an abomination, that the Primarch shouldn't have a child. That it will cause issues, fools." He stated as he sat down, "My father may do as he pleases, those "nobles" on terra have no say in the matters of our home world and what he does. His Bloodline shall be strong, his child shall have the full might of the Remnant Knights at her side." Deery wrote, not wanting to lose any of this!

The sound of crying filled the bridge and the dozens of crew members fell silent. On the massive screen where the darkness of space was was now gone. Replaced by a video of the Primarch stepping forward, "My people, my legion, and my brothers!" He spoke loudly, "may I present you, mine and Pyrrha's first born daughter, Artemis!" He stated, moving away to show a tired but smiling Pyrrha holding a small baby wrapped in a blanket. The infant had a mop of red hair with a hint of blonde, she yawned as she snuggled into her mother.

"The first of the Primarch's heirs is here!" Yelled Arael, roars of approval and excitement from the various Remnant knights and crew filled the bridge and most likely the rest of the ship.

[parvismaxima]

Ragnarok references in Attack on Titan

Ragnarok is a series of apocalyptic events that will define the end of the world, where gods will band together to fight against the giants in a final battle that will ultimately destroy the planet, submerging it under water. According to the legend, the world will resurface, the surviving gods will meet, and the world will be repopulated by two human survivors.

The following major battles will be fought:

·       Odin vs Fenrir

·       Vidar vs Fenrir

·       Thor vs Jormungandr

·       Heimdall vs Loki

Major warriors during Ragnarok:

Odin

Odin is the chief of the Æsir and king of Asgard. He will lead the battle against giants during the Ragnarok

(Hange and Odin both sacrificed their left eye in exchange for knowledge)

Heimdall

is the guardian of the gods and the personification of order. He will blow a horn, called the Gjallarhorn if Asgard is in danger. His senses are so good that he can hear the grass grow and he can see to the end of the world. Heimdall could hear a leaf fall. He does not need any sleep at all.

Loki

The god of trickery and mistrust, Loki has a complicated relationship with the  Æsir, oftentimes assisting them or hindering them in bringing their goals to fruition. He is the personification of chaos

Tyr

He is the God of war, and the bravest of all the Gods in Norse mythology. Tyr is interested in justice and with fair treaties, which makes him a God of law as well.

The reason why Tyr is the bravest of all the Gods is because of his most written story:

He once put his hand into the jaws of the gigantic evil wolf Fenrir. He did this while the other Gods bound Fenrir to a rock. When Fenrir saw this, he became suspicious, and declared that he would only allow the gods to put it around him if one of them would stick an arm in his mouth as a pledge of good faith. At last,  when the wolf noticed that he could not get free from the chains, he became furious and ripped Tyr’s right hand

And there in that chain, the giant wolf remained in that sordid state until Ragnarok.

Freyr

the central god of peace, prosperity, sunshine and with good harvest. Freyr is in particular associated with the horse cult, and in the Hrafnkels saga, a noble Gothi once killed a man for riding a horse that he had dedicated to the god.

Thor

The champion of Asgard, Thor’s job is to protect both it and Midgard from the likes of the Jotnar, the giants of Jötunheimr.

He has two children: Modi and Magni

Vidar

is the god of vengeance. A member of the Æsir, he is the son of Odin and the giantess Gríðr. To be honest, Vidar isn’t really an important God. Virtually all of the references to him Norse mythology are concerned with his role in Ragnarok; we know little to nothing about his origin or function outside of his one particular role at the end.

Personally, I only saw two things for Connie’s role in this story — Sasha’s comedic counterpart and someone who will justice for Ragako (however that justice might look like). Given that Sasha is gone and the series has taken a serious route, there is only one role left for him to finish

Eren’s soul: Fenrir

Is the half-giant wolf of Norse mythology. The Æsir gods raised Fenrir themselves in order to keep him under their control and prevent him from wreaking havoc throughout the Nine Worlds. Fenrir however, grew at an astonishingly fast pace, and eventually the troubled gods decided to chain him up. 

Eren’s titan: Jormungandr

The biggest beast in Norse mythology, he's a sea serpent who was imprisoned into the sea by Odin and is fated to rise during Ragnarok. In literature and prayers,  he symbolizes the destructive forces of nature, with everything from hurricanes, tornadoes, vulcanism, earthquakes, etc... His greatest foe is Thor

Before Ragnarok:

In Norse mythology, gods belong to either one of two tribes: the Æsir and the Vanir. And these tribes fought a lot. They fought so much that Prose Edda had poems entirely dedicated to the War of the Gods.

On the other hand, the Giants (Jotun) came before these two tribes and lived in in Jötunheimr, one of the nine worlds of Norse cosmology. They were banished there by the Gods, who refused them entry to their world, Asgard. In the ancient Norse stories, the Giants frequently interact with the Æsir and the Vanir, but they are usually in opposition with them.

The Æsir fought by the rules of plain combat, with weapons and brute force, while the Vanir used the subtler means of magic.

Loki is the mixed-blood son of a goddess and a male Jotun. His role in Norse mythology is unique and controversial since he appears to both help the gods and hinder them. According to the story, Loki tricked the blind god of winter Hod, an action that resulted in the death of the god Baldr, the shining god beloved by everyone.

Because of this, he was punished and cast into a cliff where he was to remain bound to a rock until Ragnarok, the end of the world.

Baldr’s death is one of the many signs that will fortell Ragnarok. First, there will come a great Winter “Fimbulvetr” which will last for years. Brothers will slay brother, father will slay son, and son will slay father. It will be an age of war

Next, the wolves Skoll and Hati (Fenrir’s sons) who have hunted the sun and the moon for a very long time, will at last catch their prey.

Loki will escape his prison to join the other Giants.

the chains that has been holding back the monstrous wolf Fenrir will snap, and the beast will run free. 

Jormungandr, the mighty serpent who dwells at the bottom of the ocean and encircles the land, will rise from the depths, spilling the seas over all the earth as he makes landfall.

These convulsions will shake the ship Naglfar (“Nail Ship”) free from its moorings. This ship, which is made from the fingernails and toenails of dead men and women, will sail easily over the flooded earth. Its crew will be an army of giants, the forces of chaos and destruction. 

Fenrir, with fire blazing from his eyes and nostrils, will run across the earth, with his lower jaw on the ground and his upper jaw against the top of the sky, devouring everything in his path. Jormungand will spit his venom over all the world, poisoning land, water, and air alike.

The gods who have been warring all these time, will decide to join arms and go to battle, even though they know what the prophecies have foretold concerning the outcome of this clash.

They will meet their enemies on a battlefield called Vigrid (Old Norse Vígríðr, “Plain Where Battle Surges”

An ominous horn blast will ring out; this will be Heimdall, the divine sentry, blowing the Gjallarhorn to announce the arrival of the moment the gods have feared. He will be the first one to stop the giants

Odin will anxiously consult the head of Mimir, the wisest of all beings, for counsel. Odin will face Fenrir, and by his side will be the Einherjar, the host of his chosen dead human warriors whom has preserved in Valhalla for just this moment.

During Ragnarok:

Odin and the champions of men will fight more valiantly than anyone has ever fought before. But it will not be enough. Fenrir will swallow Odin and his men.

Then one of Odin’s sons, Vidar, burning with rage, will charge the beast to avenge his father. He will stab his sword through the wolf’s throat, killing him.

Heimdall and his archenemy Loki will do the same, putting a final end to the trickster’s treachery. Both will inflict fatal wounds on each other, but Loki refuses to die until he sees the destruction of the worlds which happened soon after. They both died next to each other

Tyr will perish fighting Fenrir. The wolf will bite his remaining hand and he will bleed out, but not before he gives the beast a mortal wound

The god Freyr and a fire giant will also be the end of each other. 

Thor and Jormungand, those age-old foes, will both finally have their chance to kill the other. Thor will succeed in felling the great snake with the blows of his hammer. But the serpent will have covered him in so much venom that he will not be able to stand for much longer; he will take nine paces before falling dead himself and adding his blood to the already-saturated soil of Vigrid

After all these, these gods will die, the giants will alight the world in flame, until a flood finally covers the world.

After Ragnarok:

Several of the Gods will survive, among them is Odin’s sons Vidar. Thor’s sons Modi and Magni will also survive, inheriting their father’s hammer Mjölnir.

While most of the Gods will die in the mutual destruction with the Giants, it is predetermined that a new world will rise up from the water, beautiful and green. Before the battle of Ragnarok, a woman and a man, Lif “life” and Liftraser “lover of life”, will find shelter from the cataclysm in a place called the “Wood of Hoddmimir” (Hoddmímis holt).

They will now come out and populate the lush land in which they will find themselves. A new sun, the daughter of the previous one, will rise in the sky. And all of this will be presided over by a new, almighty ruler.

After Ragnarok” by Emil Doepler (1905)

 The significance of Ravens in Norse mythology

Ravens are found everywhere in Prose Edda, a collection of poems detailing the legends of Old Norse. It is the holy bird circling around Odin

In Norse mythology, Huginn ( "thought") and Muninn ("memory") are a pair of ravens that fly all over the world and relay information to him, causing Odin to become very wise.

Now I know I just said that Hange is supposed to play Odin during Ragnarok, but given the bird’s role in the Norse story, and all the perspectives being dropped, I think it’s safe to say that Eren’s been hearing his enemies pretty well, as well as seeing the literal bird’s eye perspective of the entire war

Anyway, these are all the Norse references I saw during the Marley arc onwards. What do you think? How do you foresee the final battle ending?

[rpgsandbox]

     Mock-ups for the Legends of Avallen rulebook, artbook, and playing cards

"From that island at the end of the world, no soldier returned without tales of wonder – walking forests, talking fae, enigmatic shapes half man and half beast: things that you ought not to believe unless you see them yourself.” — Kaato the Sage, writing on the invasion of Avallen

Legends of Avallen is an indie tabletop RPG inspired by Celtic mythology and Roman-occupied Britain. In this fantasy world, players and gamemasters alike will play out tales and themes of humble beginnings, the clash of cultures, and the mysteries of the Otherworld.

Where other games skip the origins of your character, Legends of Avallen starts from the very beginning: you're an ordinary townsperson looking for an excuse to adventure. From those humble origins, you will quest out into Avallen, growing both in character and in power as you discover its magic. Soon you'll choose to follow a legendary path, learning the ways of the Bard, the Gladiator, the Magister, or many more. You will seek out lost relics, slay terrific beasts, riddle with the Gods, and change the fate of Avallen forever.

Avallen needs legends – how will you forge yours?

      Illustrations of a humble shepherd, a Vallic druid, and a Raxian slayer

What makes this game different? You do not begin as a great hero; instead, you have humble beginnings as a shepherd, blacksmith, scribe, or other base profession before rising up to become an adventurer with your friends.

Designed to be quick to pick up for new players and RPG veterans alike, Legends of Avallen uses regular ol’ playing cards instead of dice. Players flip cards from the top of the deck hoping that they'll match the colour of their attribute, with face cards and aces helping you get critical successes—or a critical failure if they don't match!

The system pushes gameplay away from the rules and into the players’ imagination, emphasising creativity, teamwork, and resourcefulness. Players that make the most of their surroundings, narratives, and set up team plays gain advantages (more cards to flip!) while failure leads to interesting decisions instead of the end of play.

Gamemasters can handily make adventures with scene templates, a mix-and-match monster maker, and Fate Cards that add tension, risk, and a ticking clock to scenes.

And of course, the Celtic-Roman inspired lore!

Legends of Avallen will release as a full coloured and illustrated rulebook containing a player guide, a gamemaster guide, and a lore guide. It will be approximately 150-250 pages in length, depending on what stretch goals are reached. It will be available as a PDF and hardback book through DriveThruRPG.

Legends of Avallen is set in an ancient world but is designed with a modern system

Exclusively available for this Kickstarter we are producing a full regular deck of Celtic themed playing cards featuring illustrations from the mythos of Avallen. These cards are not necessary to play Legends of Avallen but they will definitely look amazing and complement the experience!

Ace of Clubs featuring Llyr-Don the Ever Elder and Jack of Hearts featuring a Bwbach

We don’t know about you, but we love art and have a large collection of artbooks ourselves. We want to share that joy of art and the thought that goes into its creation, so we are also producing an artbook for Legends of Avallen. Exclusively available for this Kickstarter, it will show off the concepting and designs that create the world of Avallen.

Preliminary sketches and concepting for Eilir, the daughter of a minor Vallic noble who sided with the Empire. She gave up her birthright to follow visions that lead her to the path of the Druid.

The Pen-Coed clan worship the Ever Mother and revere the forests, building their hillforts around great oak trees.

Avallen, the main setting for Legends of Avallen, is a mystical island home to the Vallic, a divided Iron Age people. The Vallic clans each claim ancestry to a different kind of Fae, and historically have been in constant conflict. These clans are scattered across Avallen’s diverse biomes, worshipping gods that embody the lands—enchanted forests hosting mischievous Fae and druidic rituals; rolling meadows scattered with earthen fortresses and cattle-raiding Vallic queens; mountains shrouded in mist, hiding ancient sanctuaries and terrifying beasts, and so many more.

But let’s not forget the Otherworld, a place of legends that lies parallel to Avallen, it is the domain of their gods, the Ever Ones. It serves as the final resting place for the spirits of the dead, but also as the birthplace of creatures of myth such as the dreaded Ffieidd-Dra (Feithe-Dra) and the tricksy Fae. The Vallic people are cautious in their dealings with the Fae, and there are many stories of unwitting travellers who wander into this unearthly realm never to be seen again… or so rattled they never wish to speak of their experiences so long as they live.

Stepping into the Otherworld often leads to great fortune, as long as you can find your way back.

Magic is also bountiful on the island, running through it like a roaring river. It is powerful, flexible, and vicious; the average person would do good to avoid it most of their life. The Vallic have a natural affinity for the spiritual magic of the mystics, those that channel the natural forces of the Otherworld.

Avallen is not all nature, magic, and mysticism, though—a new kind of people have settled on their shores. This is the Raxian Empire, whose concrete buildings, urban living, taxes, and other cultural oddities made landfall on Avallen from the mainland to the south a generation ago. As the Vallic always have been, their response was divided. Some welcomed the Empire onto their land, while other clans put aside ancient rivalries to stand up against the invaders.

                Port Magnus, a Raxian town on the south coast of Avallen.

The arrival of a new culture also means a new way of looking at Avallen’s magic and gods. The Raxians consider the magic of the mystics far too unpredictable and dangerous; they much prefer the more logical spells of the mage, those that shape reality to their whim. And while the Empire exiled their own gods back on the mainland, there are a number of Raxians in Avallen willing to worship the Ever Ones. For strategic reasons, of course—worship means protection, favour, and influence over the Otherworld.

Your character will start with very little, the basic skill their Profession grants them and a pouch of coppers to their name. But as they venture across Avallen and have a hand in solving local problems, they’ll come to learn new talents. From their Profession school, a character will go on to select a base Class, and their world will be opened up to the arcane arts and styles of martial abilities.

Valens is an apprentice smithy and part of the first generation of Raxians to be born on Avallen.

With your adventure rising to more epic heights, so will your character’s abilities—as they begin to make a name for themselves across the island, your character will begin to walk one of the Legendary Paths, like the Druid or the Gladiator. These Paths offer even more powerful, more specialised skills and abilities that will change how you approach the game both in and out of conflict. Your talents certainly won’t go unnoticed by the residents of Avallen.

After his border town was ruined by war, Valens followed the path of the Slayer, vowing to hunt warmongers on both sides of the wall.

Finally, in the most legendary tiers of play, as your character finds mastery at the end of their Legendary Path, they will be forced to face their own flaws as they contend with the powers that be in both the mortal realm and in the Otherworld. Both your fate and Avallen’s will rest in the palm of your hand. How will you change Avallen forever? How will your character arc end? Will yours be a legend of redemption, or tragedy?

You can check out the Rules Summary here!

Legends of Avallen is designed to be approachable for new players and gamemasters alike, with over 20 of our playtesters having never played a TTRPG before! The game rules are introduced gradually as your characters advance, opening up new lines of strategy and deeper interactions for RPG veterans to master.

The simplicity starts right off the bat with character creation. You first determine your key personality traits, your starting Profession school—the job by which your humble townsperson makes a living—and finally, your score in four attributes—Vigour, Agility, Wit, and Spirit. That’s it! You’re ready to play.

When faced with a challenging situation your character needs to overcome, you will make a check with an attribute by turning over two cards from the top of the deck. Cards of the correct colour will add one to your attribute, while cards of the opposite colour subtract one. You'll be on the lookout for face cards and aces though as they add or subtract more, with faces worth two and aces worth three!

You’re not always confined to turning over just two cards, though. Interacting intelligently and creatively with your environment can grant you Advantages—extra cards to turn over. And when you’re at an advantage, you’ll take the two highest cards of all the ones you turn over, which means the better chance you have of achieving a critical success! Your allies can always help you in ways that give you Advantages, too. This will prove particularly useful for tough foes—it's better to work together to get one key hit in than have everyone chip away in futility.

Llysaera, Valens, and Eilir face off against a Draig. Overcome terrific foes using teamwork with a few decisive actions rather than many repeated ones.

But you can always find yourself on the flip side of a situation—at a disadvantage. In this case, you’d take the two lowest cards you turn over. While that means a greater chance of failure, there’s no need to worry—failure doesn’t mean the end of play.

When faced with failure, you have a choice: either sacrifice equipment or yourself to force a success, or choose to accept failure and take an Edge. Edges are face down cards, that can buildup through a scene, representing progress despite failure. You spend Edges when you like, adding them to your own checks or passing them around to your allies.

By the end of an adventure, your character and your companions will be exhausted, and their gear will be broken down, but they will be triumphant, and you will have many a thrilling tale to tell.

Don’t worry GMs, we've been thinking about you as well. While the players rise up to become legends, you are the hidden hero weaving the strands of fate to make it all possible. Legends of Avallen will come with GM tools that will help you focus on storycrafting, worldbuilding, and play.

Quickly create compelling content by adding your ideas to Scene, Quest, and Campaign templates that will be built to support Avallen lore and faction guides.

Find out what your players' characters care about most by raising the stakes with Fate Cards. Fate Cards represent risk and a ticking clock in tense situations such as sneaking through an Imperial camp, or exploring an opening to the Otherworld. When a player tempts Fate, the cards will decide if there are consequences.

Concept art for a Vallic town, get ready to bring it to life with your own NPCs and story hooks!

The system is designed so that so you can come up with NPCs and enemies on the fly, because let’s face it—the players always find a way to throw you a curveball! Use the personality system built into social encounters to come up with deep and interesting characters at a moment’s notice, and see how your players use those aspects to their advantage. And quickly slap together fiends, when your players unexpectedly wander into places they shouldn’t be, with the mix-and-match monster maker.

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Kickstarter campaign ends: Sun, September 20 2020 7:53 PM BST

Website: Legends of Avallen