#Iko;WAVE

[ikowave]

Nolu Concept Art

[indierpgnewsletter]

New Itch Games for April & May

Been quiet on here but I'm back now!

It’s the itch.io round-up of new games! Now coming to you once every two months because that sounds easier. Usual disclaimer: This comes from be browsing itch.io and people self-submitting through the form. I haven’t played these games and mostly am just going by how interesting they sound to me. Okay, let’s go:

The Hollow Queen: This is a GM-less horror game from Venezuelan designer, Felix Rios, about a dark force haunting the streets and the people trying to uncover it. It uses the diceless Ten Coins system and is available in Spanish.

Contact: A game where you use a music playlist and tarot cards to play through a story about trying to make contact with aliens. I think the idea is that the songs contain encoded messages from the aliens, which is a neat reversal of the Voyager Golden Record. By j strautman.

Tangled Blessings: This is a solo dark fantasy game set in a magic school. It’s a solo/duet game, building on Anamnesis by Sam Leigh. You explore the secrets of this weird school while dealing with a rival who’s making your life difficult. Designed by Cassi Mothwin.

Strike Force Omega: This is LUMEN game about science-fantasy supersoldiers coming back for one last stand, defending their homes in a time of war. By Chris Longhurst, designer of See Issue X and Pigsmoke.

Thirty Foes  (OR Once again, we are defeated): In a similar premise, but much more focused on the drama rather than tactics, this is Seven Samurai but cosmic cowboys. They sling cosmic power and defend against bandits. And they’re probably going to die. From Rat Wave Game House.

Thief and Druid: Two games from Stéphanie Dusablon. Both are solo games with an optional journaling element. Thief uses the Push system and Druid uses the Firelights system. I’m not sure if this is a series that will expand to all the D&D classes but it’s a neat idea.

Skyrealms: This is a fantasy bestiary, setting, and solo adventure game about three floating islands in the misty heights, full of secrets and strange creatures. It’s from Iko and Armanda Haller. You can also use the bestiary as a colouring book apparently!

In The Blind: This is a sci-fi horror game about working class people trying to do their job and instead facing the darkness of space. This is a free preview and showcases how good Riley Daniels, designer of As The Sun Forever Sets, is at visual design.

Queenless: This is another Firelights game from solo game blog, Croaker RPGs. You play as members of the hive, exploring the world and protecting your home from destruction.

When Prophecy Fails: Nick Wedig makes a game about cultists and what happens when their foreseen apocalypse doesn’t happen. I’ll give you a hint: they often get even more radical. Based on the For the Queen. (PWYW)

The Score: Tin Star Games GM-less storygame where you tell a heist movie in 18 minutes using 18 cards.

SDM: Eternal Return Key: Luka Rejec follows up Ultraviolet Grasslands with a full OSR-style rulset and more weird setting. It has the same much-loved psychadelic vibe from the original and there’s a free art-less version as well.

the city begins to exist: A citybuilding game with some solid prompts. I can always use more citybuilding games! Designed by kay w.

[linh-cindy]

Tlc as phrases that my friends and i said Thorne, about Winter: Oh great! You're here. CAN YOU HELP ME INTERROGATE HER Cress: I am the new Sherlock Holmes Cinder: ah. delicious water. Peony: *runs* WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE Iko: MATH HAS A PROGRAMMING ERROR Winter: *waves at the moon* HI Jacin: I'll beat you on the head with this water jug I swear Scarlet: i wanna be where no ppl are Wolf: look cherry tomatoes Kai: Are you ok Cinder: no Iko: BLACKPINK is my gasoline Winter: I can't live without milk

[isagrimorie]

Star Trek Voyager 7x13 - Repentance

The show doesn't usually touch on the things Seven has done and made to do as a Borg drone. And Seven also almost never talked about how painful it is to become a drone and have implants installed in her body.

As we've seen from previous scans, Seven's occipital implant required removing half of her skull. Seven was probably still a child at that point when the procedure was done, a teen at most.

I like that the episode started with Seven not being sympathetic to Iko, who started as an unrepentant killer but by some hand wave sci-fi nanoprobe, Iko began to feel the weight of his crime. By the end Iko and Seven bonded together. This is a part of Seven hasn't shared with anyone apart from Captain Janeway but also it's not something Seven liked talking about.

The only other time Seven talked about this was when Neelix asked in Memorial and she was a little brusque in her response because she really didn't like to talk about the horrible things she's done for the Borg.

Seven has come a long way from the time B'Elanna asked her if she felt terrible for what she's done to easily diagnosing guilt in another person because she lives with guilt every day. Guilt and remorse are old friends to Seven.

[krispyweiss]

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Day No. 2, Golden Gate Park, San Francisco, Sept. 30, 2023

Leyla McCalla controls the weather.

An overcast day in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park suddenly turned sun-soaked when the former Carolina Chocolate Drop sang: My face to the sun as she performed Our Native Daughters’ “I Knew I Could Fly” during her Sept. 30 Hardly Strictly Bluegrass set on the Towers of Gold Stage.

“That’s awesome,” she said mid-verse as the Earth’s star emerged from the afternoon clouds.

Following the electric and steel guitar instrumentals of Hermanos Gutiérrez on the adjacent Swan stage and playing cello, banjo and electric guitar, backed with rhythm section and electric guitar, McCalla covered Kendrick Lamar’s “Crown” and offered a gumbo of New Orleanian, Haitian and American music delivered in English and Haitian Creole while showcasing her the Capitalist Blues and Breaking the Thermometer LPs.

The Sound Biteses’ day had begun in the pre-noon fog with the down-in-the-holler, old-time string music of Dry Branch Fire Squad playing the songs of Gillian Welch, Doc Watson and Bill Monroe on the Banjo stage. Later, it was gospel from the McCrary Sisters, who sung Stevie Wonder’s “Higher Ground,” “Amazing Grace” and other numbers backed by a full band during short, five- to 15-minute sets on the Rooster stage, where Brennan Leigh offered a lunchtime menu of traditional country music.

It was also on the Rooster that Emmylou Harris previewed her Sunday appearance by guesting with Shawn Camp and Verlon Thompson and closing their Doc Watson tribute set with Guy Clark’s “Old Friends.”

Shortly afterward, Bettye LaVette sauntered onstage to deliver her grinding version of Bob Dylan’s “Things Have Changed.” From here, it was an impassioned reading of songs from the Randall Bramblett-written LaVette! album as the singer prowled the stage and proved her 77 years have cost her nothing in vocal prowess and stage presence.

“If I could write, this is what I would have said,” LaVette said in introducing the new songs, which worked better on stage than on wax.

Rickie Lee Jones attracted a ginormous crowd to Banjo - “I haven’t seen so many people in front of me for so long,” she said, soaking it in - and their enthusiasm rubbed off. Jones, whose band included Vilray on guitar and vocals, plus accordion and bass, was animated as she danced around the stage and crooned like a lounge singer when she wasn’t playing guitar, banjo or piano.

Opening with a radically rearranged “Danny’s All-Star Joint” more suited for the streets of New Orleans than the fields of Golden Gate, Jones went on to perform “I Won’t Grow Up” - for the first time, she said - “Last Chance Texaco,” “We Belong Together” and a sinewy rendition of Steely Dan’s “Show Biz Kids” that found Jones lifting her orange sweater to sing of the Rickie Lee T-shirt beneath.

Give RLJ the MVP for turning in HSB No. 2’s No. 1 gig.

Faced with the quintessential festivalgoers’ dilemma, Mr. and Mrs. Sound Bites split the last hour between Steve Earle’s uncharacteristically sleepy solo-acoustic set on the Banjo and Irma Thomas’ barnburner R&B/soul revival at the Rooster.

At 82, Thomas played the day’s most rambunctious set, ripping into “Time is on My Side” and getting the audience bouncing and waving their handkerchiefs on her mashup of “I Done Got Over It” -> “Iko Iko” -> “Hey Pocky Way” -> “I Done Got Over It.” That one might be ringing through Golden Gate’s trees along with the birdsong for some time to come.

Read Sound Bites’ coverage of HSB Day One here.

10/1/23

[sleepydross]

"Perimortem"

Chapter One: Lone Digger Warnings: Extreme, detailed gore. Sibling abuse and, let's face it, extreme sibling disharmony. Death. Murder. Intrigue. Visceral horror, gaslighting and implied abuse.

Hi. Welcome to Chapter One. Do me a favor okay? Mind the content warnings, I'll try to do them comprehensively on every chapter. Mind the tags, if you want to find story posts easily, search 'Perimortem Story,' every post will have this tag. If you like my work please reblog I guess, I'd like people to read it. <3 Thank you. >>>>>>.

"I need to know where you're at on the information regarding Exro N'Tone and his Mistress," Nisal said. Malla blinked, a few times, and then chuckled.

"His Mistress is the least interesting thing about him," she replied, waving her hand. A holomonitor shifted aside, allowing her to look her sister in the eye. Houndite physiology being as varied as it was, her sister had four arms, and was using all of them to interact with various screens, her synthetic eyes darting in various directions. Admittedly, Malla was used to it, but understood why people found watching her work freaky. She got one eye to stare at, and that was generous in and of itself.

"Spill," Nisal said, absently.

"Exro isn't just fucking Janna Onie, from BioUltra, the lady third down from the top, he's also bottoming for Iko Kalavan, the secretary to the ceo of his competitor. There's shit going on there, and people are definitely being pumped for intel and then some."

"Fascinating. Formulate a strategy for acquiring proof and necessary supplementary intelligence, and operate underneath the sheets, little sister. I do not need a repeat of Kango Fortali's home."

"First off, that op went shitways because your dog squad crawled their asses in there itching for a throw down, and also, apparently weren't trained in proper curse ward detection and penetration," Malla said, and she regretted it instantly, as the older, taller houdite froze, all four of her eyes staring in different directions. One by one, she closed her screens and lowered her thickly muscled arms, each eye snapping in order onto Malla's face.

Nisal did not like having her own inadequacies thrown in her face.

"S-Sister, apologies. I grew too bold, and spoke inappropriately," she said, bowing her head, tensing her shoulder muscles for what was about to rain down on her. Her sister had made a mistake, and shit had rolled down hill, and desperate to please the only person other than their father who remotely mattered to her…

She'd taken the heat.

Bringing it up again was just, shitty… she made her own damn choice. She'd chosen to take the heat. She'd…

It felt like she'd chosen. Did she choose?

"Yes, of course," Nisal said. "And you took the heat, for which I am grateful."

Malla looked up, blinking. Her sister was smiling at her. Coolant ran in her veins, freezing her heart in her chest, tightening it all until she couldn't breathe. There she sat, frozen, eyes like iced over, unfocused. All four of her arms were stilled, her hands trembling quietly in her lap. It felt as if she'd been poisoned, as if this was a trick, as if the room was too hot and too cold, all at once.

Nisal just smiled at her, and it looked… it looked right, it looked genuine. It looked like a person's smile. Her sister only smiled at her when she did things right, and only smiled like that when she did things REALLY right.

"Why is your heart beating nearly three times as fast as usual - the left one, I assume your primary, right now," Visal asked, or said, Malla wasn't even remotely sure. "You appear afraid. Are you afraid of me, little sister?"

Click, clack, that sound of a revolver's cylinder being shut. Slow pull, now.

In the silence of a loaded gun, Malla opened her mouth, tried to speak, and failed.

"Little sister?" Nisal asked, tilting her head, hellhound like ears twitching from vertical for a moment.

Click. End of the slow pull. The hammer was back. Finger on the trigger.

Wasn't it?

"I… yes, I… I meant nothing, I meant no disrespect, Nisal. I… I meant nothing by that, I meant, i meant only to reaffirm what I will do to ensure you are not bothered, Nisal," she said, rapidly, and slowly - pausing lots, and then managing words in short spurts.

"Naturally, little sister. If I believed anything else I would be terribly angry," she said, softly, without a hint of venom. "Now, go get your team together, and get to work planning out the op. We need this intel, as fast as possible.

"Y-Yes, Nisal, ma'am. I will do so," she said, rising, bowing at the waist. "I will do my best for you."

"Yes, of that I am sure," Nisal said, chuckling. "Go on, make me proud."

Malla rose from her bow and turned, walking one footstep at a time because if she didn't do it manually she was going to collapse to the floor and humiliate herself. In the short hallwaylet to the door, she resisted the urge to support herself on the wall, and then passed through the door and waited until she heard it automatically close behind her before turning, and walking calmly away. That was all she had to do.

She had to be in control. She had to be calm. She had to be perfect. Every movement was measured and she felt her freedom come in the absolute focus on that perfect motion, on walking with her four hands clasped behind her back, staring calmly down her muzzle at the curving hallway ahead of her.

She hated the Al'lal'lix Structure, and emerging onto the lowest viewing balcony gave her a single moment of relief in the fresh, cool air ruffling her fur before she headed to the allistor moor. As perfectly as possible, as utterly focused as she could look, Malla swung her leg over the seat, settled in, and activated the clamps that closed on her legs. She let herself lay forward, then, the seat softening significantly until she was near horizontal, staring forward into the primary drawscreen, all but snuggling the vehicle's interior.

Her optic nerve interrupt hardware kicked in and her eyes went dead, and then the view from the primary cameras came in nice and clear. She pulled away, piloting the deft craft without an ounce of drift, signal resistance, or anything else. She had to gather the team.

She had to get the plans done. It was her third day awake, and she was fine. She was absolutely fine.

To some sandpounder far below, the sight of Neon Glass from an aerial position might have been breath taking, the cavern a full six hundred miles at the widest, three hundred and fifty or so at the narrowest, eight miles in height. Lightlace like what 'held up' the infinite stone ceiling of Hell ran in veins through the great pillars left in place when the cavern was bored over two centuries, as the city grew in around it. It had stood finished for over a century.

Pyramids and rivers of glass and light and steel hung from above and grew from below, the innersky a choked place of endless jet transports, cargo craft and civilian vehicles, a constant flurry impossible to navigate without an AR hookup and a vehicle connection to the primary transportation network - or a fuckload of skill and even more magic.

She had a high priority connection and was glad to only provide subtle guidance and basic organic judgement tasks - watching out for surprise obstacles and other vehicles, primarily, in case of emergencies. At the speed she was going, no one was going to entirely trust the AI network.

She didn't fly into the glittering glass sky, but down to the floor, between canyons of light and advertisements, past billions of people she couldn't bother to care about, because she had a job. She had a job, and she was useful, and she was especially useful to people with significant power in the real way in the city. That made her better off than half the fucks she flitted past and-

That line of thought was terminated as soon as she realized it affected her heart rate. Nisal, she no doubt, had access to all of the biometrics and monitoring systems in the craft. Calm was absolutely required.

Perfection was the name of the game, as she flew down into the primary access tunnel for the sub-chamber below, where the industrial district found its horrible, annoying home. They were scheduled to be moved into a more fitting location soon, but at that time, she simply hadn't proven herself valuable enough have a place in the main chamber. Intelligence Operatives were a dime a dozen and she had to be a dollar a dozen more before she warranted a glittering glass office or anything else - at least.

That didn't matter. Her craft came to rest on the rooftop of the building, and almost before the shell opened, the roof structure closed over her and the vehicle, to conceal its presence - all formality, the entire district area they operated out of was largely automated systems. They were dodging the prying eyes of botwatchers and other freaks, not other operators.

Operators.

She still hadn't been approved to work field things, she had to run ops from the sand splashing fucking…

Inside. She walked, her boots clicking quietly on the stone tiles of the rooftop, her body weak, her legs trembling and then…

She was inside. In that space, she was king, and she made the rules. She placed the bugs. She controlled every single thing, including the small bathroom on the first floor that was a complete blindspot including having a natural reason to block biomonitor implant signals. In that bathroom, with the door shut and one of the floor's primary thaumic field regulators in the wall next to her humming softly, she vomited up everything she'd eaten that morning, and then followed it with letting out a wracking, horrible sob. There, broken and alone, she huddled in the corner beneath the sink and thanked the stars that Jackos had kept his word on making sure the damned bathroom was clean.

It wouldn't have mattered if the spiders were still there. She was losing her shit, and she had to get a grip, and get a grip fast. The moment she entered the building, everyone was called from their labs, or called back to the building from wherever they were nested up to do their research, planning and softsliding and…

She had minutes, a counter on her visual hud ticking marks as her team made their way into the main building, a floor below, greeted their analysts and assistants, their personal subteams… and headed up to see her. She choked and sobbed, cried and threw up a second time, and then set to work. It was critical that everything was perfect. Every drop of vomitus cleaned up, every tear washed carefully from her cheek fur.

Her people couldn't know she was weak, couldn't see her being so. Any team of operators was only as good as their controller - which was why she wanted to get into field work, but the idea of killing, it was…

She couldn't let them see her weak.

Standing in front of the mirror, she peered at her rich black fur, long and thick in the relatively cold, climate controlled cavern city. She carefully dabbed at the still damp patches of fur until they were dry. With her kit, she reapplied the fur stain that shaded the red around her eyes, and then took only a moment to re-oil her mane and brush it out. Satisfied, she turned and opened the door, hands clasped behind her back as she walked down the short access hallway and into the top floor operations center. Outside of that room, it was all hellcrete and industrial steel. Inside?

Inside was sanctuary.

Damnatium laced meta-panels covered every surface, some custom cut and molded to fit over the minimal machinery in the room - it had once been a board room, before automation made industrial jobs in the sky a lot less common. Behind her, a panel slid over the door, adding extra meta-panels to block signals that might slip through the cracks. It was a dead zone, cold and signal free, and she couldn't even cry in there.

Her team awaited, and she looked to Green, the freshfaced imp with a penchant for knifework and a body small enough for the cramped vents used in high security facilities.

"Green, do you have the floorplan for the related areas of the building? And an actual location where this tryst is happening?"

"Sure do," he said, gesturing to Koka, a huge taurosi woman who looked as concerned as Malla had ever seen a taurosi look - and Malla didn't show a thing in response to that concern, because the few times they'd slept together was purely recreation, and she couldn't afford letting anyone close to her. It was a dangerous position, existing as the youngest daughter of the Vix Patriarch, CEO of one of the most prestigious private security and intelligence gathering operations corporation in that section of the city.

It was a dangerous position if she fucked up. Anyone near her would go down so hard they'd hit the sand before they knew what was happening.

"Got 'em. Had to punch a few holes in a fellow, but he won't be talking," she murmured, discontentedly, as if something about the plans made her uncomfortable. Standing around the table, they waited as she slid the slickstick into the port. Their command table's holoprojector kicked on, and displayed a squat, five floor rectangle.

Malla raised an eyebrow.

"He's… fucking another CEO's… secretary… in a prefab industrial building?" she asked, slowly.

"The location comes straight from Nisal's personal penetration team, so, I guess so," Green said, but it was clear he too was somewhat unnerved. "Same model as ours. Standardization gone mad, I guess."

"I guess," Malla murmured, glancing to Xees, a succubus with at least enough hound in him to have a tail and ears. "Let's get on with this. Xees, what have you found out about the location?"

"So far, not much. Getting scans from the structure was impossible, that whole zone is high yield fucking bugged. I got coords, right? But the access tunnel was blocked off, locked down, one of those access-only-during-certain-hours sectors - dangerous high value manufacturing. I couldn't fuckin' get in, access is guarded when open.. I had to buy this off Kekel in the Whisper Market," he confessed, sighing, and he too stuck his slicky into a slot. The building's hologram exterior was peeled away, highlighting rooms in an identical layout, one they were all absolutely familiar with. Standardized buildings had been all the rage when the city was just being built and its industrial zones were bored out - they were fast, cheap, and made of nice and sturdy hellcrete.

There was still something surreal to plotting their entrypoints and planning an op on an identical structure to their own, but… at the same time, it wasn't as if they didn't know them well. What became bothersome was when Xees keyed up his data, providing them with thermal and thaumic scans of the building, arcanametrics profiles of the structure, and so on.

Their building hologram replicated itself into a total of three, which formed a pyramid that slowly rotated, showing the thermal, magical, and acoustic hotspots in the structure.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say. They all just stared, confused, knowing each other's habits and where their workspaces were, where the loud machines were, and they could see the building there were staring at was not merely a copy of theirs, not merely standardized…

It was theirs, down to the notes suggesting a command holotable on the top floor due to heat and acoustic data, and significant signal and thaumic shielding and…

"Boss," Xees said, good and slow. "What in the sand is this shit?"

"I don't know," Malla replied, that cold, frozen feeling returning, slowly. "I… I don't know. It looks, it appears… to be our building."

"It doesn't appear to be, it fucking is!" Green shouted, slamming her hand on the command table. "They're burning us."

"My sister is not burning us," Malla said, shakily. "S-She was pleased with me, she-"

"I do not have time for you to be psycho about your crazy asshole family," Green spat, pivoting and opening the cabinet where they stored the shotguns. "I'm sending an alert signal to the folks downstairs and our techs and shit, we all have to split. This is fu-"

Malla actually couldn't process things, for a few seconds. The huge taurosi woman stood there, arm extended, hand on the door - but a thick gray plate of something silvery-gray (enchanted bonesteel, Malla realized dimly) was just… also there, and then… it wasn't. The sound it made coming out was louder than the horrible THUCKSNAP of it punching into the building, this awful grinding noise that lasted less than a tenth of a second.

Green still stood there, just… unmoving, until her knees buckled and she went down hard, arms limp at her sides. When she fell sideways, the upper half of her head rolled wetly off, squirts of hot red blood still jutting from cleanly cut veins.

"GET DOWN!" Malla screamed - but Xees was already on the floor, crawling towards the corpse and then over it. He reached in, managed to snag the sidearms stored in the bottom, and rolled onto his back, head on Green's stomach as the blood from the eight foot tall woman's body spread slowly outward. Occasionally, her legs twitched. One of her arms shifted.

Her mouth opened, at least once, and then just stayed open. Malla didn't even notice the sidearm sliding towards her, she didn't hear Xees shouting at her…

Her eyes drifted left, to Koka, the only one in the room who had ever seen her cry, the only person in the entire world she felt like she could call a friend. Koka, a bullfaced taurosi, was typically less facially expressive than most, but…

But Malla had, had seen her face, learned her face. She dreamed of her, sometimes, half of the time they were nightmares at the end, where some fuckup got the Taurosi killed.

Koka was staring at her forearm, confused. Blood squirted in time with her heartbeat, because that forearm ended about an inch from the elbow.

The houndite heard her confused question, the last words she'd say, through the ringing of adrenaline and terror, and then it all went to white noise again.

"How come?" Koka asked, anything but innocent, but baffled and nearly childish with terror anyway - and then a three foot wide plane of metal slammed through her, just below her shoulders. Both blades, the lower one having cut halfway to her spine through her side and stayed there after severing her arm, retracted rapidly…

And Koka was gone. Just like that.

Just… gone.

All she heard was ringing. All she smelled was the growing stink of blood iron. All she…

She had never pulled the trigger on anything but paper targets, she'd never… she'd never seen someone die, not up close. Sure, her job had her eat her fill and then some of photographs of horrible or gory deaths. She'd seen videos of enhanced interrogation, but… she'd not watched any more of wetwork done on her orders than she had to, she…

"-SNAP THE FUCK OUT OF IT," Xees barked, in her face, on all fours in front of her - and she heard that THUNKSNAP, felt a whisper of air moving over her head. He went rigid, eyes wide. His right pupil dilated, blood trickling from the corner of his eye as that very orb wandered off to the side. Red splattered from his nose. His mouth fell open and hot red flooded out of it, splattering on the floor, speckling her face.

On all fours, he was sliced from ass to the tip of his nose, his head raised. The blade ended inches from Malla's face, a wide, flat chisel tip. His eyes widened at her, and then rolled back.

The lower half (including his belly, arms and legs) fell, and she stared silently at his severed insides, as the half-digested food in his split stomach burbling, running out into the tissues around it, his kidneys left above the plane of gray metal above her, and half his heart still throbbing, reacting to some latent impulse even though his brain was, as far as she could tell, largely gone.

The grinding came again, that horrible, loud, utterly rapid withdrawal, and his back and the top of his head splatted down onto what remained of the lower.

Malla was screaming, incoherently, crawling in terror to the corner of the room. She could taste him, all that was left of him, in her mouth - his blood, in her mouth. She threw up, again, curling into a ball and breaking completely, sobbing as the room was perforated over and over, as other agents were forced into the room and diced to pieces, or ran in shouting about incursion.

It was like being trapped in the corner of a blender, and something downstairs was forcing them up into the grinder, gunfire cracking and turning the horrible sound of this new blade weapon into a kind of underlying beat to a symphony of death.

The sound, very suddenly, stopped. Malla clutched her pistol, hands shaking so bad she couldn't have hit someone two feet in front of her - and then… the roof access hallway door opened, the panel sliding aside. Her sister stepped in, in plain black pants, a plain black shirt, and a standard company vest.

Malla tripped and stumbled over the corpses of people she had known, had worked with, for years. Past the carrion field, soaked in vital red and sticky with it, she barreled into her sister, wrapping her arms around the woman.

"N-Nisal… thank the Lucifer… we, I don't know, we were made. You, you got here just in time, I just… I-I don't know how… I don't-"

"Shhhh, little sister," Nisal said, drawing her sidearm. "You're annoying me."

Malla barely had the time to register those words before the pistol pressed to her unarmored stomach and pain filled in the gaps between horror and trauma with a BANG! She staggered back, confused, sick, and pressed her hands to her stomach. They came away even slicker, even redder, and in a panic, reacting on animal instinct, she frantically tried to cover the holes, before sinking to her knees.

"You're pathetic… utterly broken. Lacking rage, lacking hate, lacking malice. Weak insects have no place in this family, and as our father dies tonight, you fucking pathetic freak, I will have no further concerns to my name," she said, with such calm, such terrible satisfaction. She smiled that same loving, beautiful smile, but now it was… twisted - or was it the same? Malla felt twisted, writhing in agony on the floor, her life leaking out all the new holes in her torso. "Goodnight, little sister. Don't take it personally. You just weren't made for being in my life."

Malla tried to raise her arm, fire her pistol, do anything - but Nisal just stepped forward, ripped the pistol out of her hand, and returned to the wall beside the door, shutting it.

"No signals, no distress calls. I'm going to watch you die, little sister," she murmured.

Malla would take time… so much time…

Time to bleed out, time enough to roll away from Nisal, to stare out over the entirety of her life. A room full of corpses she'd been… friends?

Did she even have friends? It was a room full of corpses, and all of them died to save her, and she could only best describe them as colleagues. It dawned on her she didn't… know most of their lives, their families, anything about them. The less that intel operators knew about each other, the better.

The room was a monument to everything she was - the corpses of disconnected strangers, piled up at her feet for the crime of simply working with her.

"P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C," a soft, androgynous voice said, right in her ear. Nisal said nothing. Malla rolled, panting blood into her mouth, and found herself staring at a metallic face made up of tiny, mirrored tiles that floated strangely in the vague shape of a head. These tiny little tiles flooded in and out of a dark, strange robe… and in a hand made of steel that looked like an ancient mechanoprosthetic, it held a small pistol. This creature's face, the tiny mirrors of its 'skull,' were disorienting. They made it hard to think. Her eyes darted to its armament. "What, this? Look at this, instead of my face, idiot."

It brought the weapon close to her face, showing her the frame of glinting damnatium-steel, black and smooth, with an inlay of bonesteel. It opened the cylinder, and pulled a round free - it was copper jacketed, but with some odd kind of polymer-

It was not polymer. Frost coated the bullet in seconds, leaving only the oily, almost black tip untouched.

Nithilite.

A reaper.

"Bingo, fucknuts. I am The Thing You Can't Defeat of the Seven Deaths, and this is my friendly pistol, Charon," it said, chuckling, mirrors jittering with the sound. "Stare at the pistol, and think to me, or your asshole sister will hear."

Malla blinked, wondering if this was an actual reaper, or DMT.

"Fuck off, idiot, arachite don't get Deathdreams, you get Purgatorium Walks. If this was fake, you'd be in the woods already. See any fucking treeeeees?" it asked, sarcastically. She looked back to its face, and then back to the gun, wondering if it would use it. "Yes, I will, you dense bitch, if you don't want a chance to get revenge."

The dying houdite scoffed, wetly, choking on her own blood. Revenge?

She was pathetic.

"Yeah, you are, but you don't have to be. You can live… if you're willing to do something for me. There's this, thing, let's call it a disease… and a few people managed to exterminate it, a while back. It's funny, cause I sort of… liked it, it's a gift, you know? I'm a giver, like that," it said, its tone warm and slightly nasally, strangely accented though it was. "Drink their blood. Suck down the muck and shit and slime, kiddo. Drink it in, like a fuckin' FREAK!"

Malla stared at the gun, still, but furrowed her brow. It was getting kind of hard to see, or… maybe to process what she was seeing. Pain was… complicated, and whether she was in any, mysterious.

It told her to drink the slick liquid she laid in, her own blood, the blood of fallen friends, messes of organ fluids, digestive contents. It must've been fucking crazy.

"Rude, and unnecessary, and… I can go, if you want. Like, you can die, I'll just sorta do the spooky shadow thing, all that. You'll forget me, die… whatever. Or you can do me a favor, and become a monster. Do it, and do it quickly. Drink the deathmuck, spyling. Suck down the blood and death of all the horrible people that you barely know. Drink the blood of warriors who did your dirty work."

Why the fuck would she do that?

It swooped in close, and whispered in her ear, "because you've lived your whole live sucking fucking boot, and what happens next is going to change… everything. It will suck, oh yes, fucking MIGHTILY! But, you will get to live. From there, it's all up to you. Transmission of this, hm… disease, is not easy. I'm excited to see if you choose to pass it on."

Malla rolled over, struggling herself up onto all fours.

"Come on, do it. Do it, do it, do it. Drink this gross shit and take my gift, my infection. Drink it, you pathetic fucking idiot, you used little thing. Drink it, and for fuck's sake, be INTERESTING!" it shouted, laying on her, weighing almost nothing, a whisper - but she felt its face, near her ear, mirrors drifting through her mane. "Become something more than the tool these fucking FREAKS made you, or I'm going to shoot you in the fucking head and wash your memories out and shove you back into the coil all over again."

Koka's shoulders, neck and head had somehow, in the chaos, landed upright amid piles of meat that used to have faces and homes and habits and-

Koka's empty eyes stared at her, and Malla realized she didn't know a god damn thing about the woman beyond the sounds she made in bed and how efficient she was at her job.

She got low, drove herself down, and lapped at the blood and shit and death. It was like a fucking ocean, her former colleagues were diced so brutally, so completely. She swallowed it, choking on it, trying not to throw it back up.

"Atta girl… drink, drink, drinkity drink… suck down all that death. Do you taste the gift, yet? It can take some time to kick in. Come on… more, more, more!" The Thing You Can't Defeat howled, in her ringing ears, its voice immaculate and clear despite that she could hardly hear Nisal when she spoke.

"What are you doing you fucking loser?" her older sister demanded - and, frantic, Mala slurped down more. She choked less on every swallow, and the nausea dimmed until she lapped it up like a dog, like a beast, her muzzle caked in clots and gore. "You've really gone insane? Sands and fire, little sister, this is so embarrassing. You honestly do not even know. Dumping your body right into the pools? It'll be a fucking relief."

And then Nisal shot her in the back of the head - twice, to be sure.

[twisted-fall]

Hi It's IKO-OKI

It's been a while hasn't it...

*Dapperblook waves at you as they're happy Twisted Fall is back here again.

Saying a while is not even scratching the surface of how long it was since the au was created.

Long story short I (IKO-OKI) am not the best at posting things on Tumblr welp that's the sole reason for all this time non of the changes, reboots and stuff had been published... I feel bad about. That being said Twisted Fall went through a lot A HECKIN LOT of changes.

First it's no longer Fellswap take nor Underswap take nor anything as such, Yes it still uses mostly Underswap-ish role swaps on the surface but just wait a bit and you'll see calling it US take would be an improper thing (at least I hope so).

Second the story even tho it's still not written will be darker and more complicated than UT, I can sure say that by just looking at all the lore and backstories I've made.

Well what is it about then? *It's a story about People in a falling apart world trapped beneath the clouds of misfortune "A world of fading hope" but a world that still believes in the better days coming and with the fall of last human... That might just be the case.

Ok After all that nonsense. what actually is done.

- After all this time I finalized the designs for the whole main cast which I will (at least want) to reveal in near or further future. Making the most fitting designs took me a lot of time but I can say that what I came up with satisfies my heart.

- Basically all the lore, backstories motives for characters is done only thing I need to do is write the story (which is the hardest part) and decide if it's gonna be a game or comic (that will prolly come while writting) then find great people to help with things like music etc. and boom with got a great au done hehe.

What more can I say. I'm happy this project didn't die like most of them and I believe I'll succeed in finishing this. See ya

PS. Everything that was posted before this post can be treated as non canon.

[jovalencia]

knowing this could be the last time she sees all her friends but iko has so much confidence in them that she just gives them her little sparkle fingers wave then skips off the warehouse🫶

[impossiblesuitcase]

Mutually Moronic Marriage - part 2.

Tressa Kinney was not a tall woman. 

“I’m telling you,” she jabbered on, “brooches are going to be in next season. They’re already showing up everywhere in Artemisia.”

Tressa faced off against a group of young elites. With a little imagination, she pictured herself towering over them all. She had spotted their campy outfits and deemed them worthy of fashion discourse, but they were, well, elitist.

One of the girls sneered. “I don’t see why Lunar styles would affect Earthen fashion. We’re on a whole different plane of couture entirely.”

Tressa grasped the edge of the woman’s puffed sleeve. “Why did you choose this cut of sleeve?”

“Because the empress wore it in Tokyo, didn’t you see?” said one of the men. “It’s been everywhere ever since.”

Tressa bit her lip slyly. “I know. I was the one who put Her Majesty in that gown.”

“You’re the stylist of the empress?” jeered another woman.

It was like they were blind or something. Anyone could see from Tressa’s A-line boat neck velvet gown in muted emerald that accentuated the honey tones in her hair that she understood fashion.

“I am, and brooches will be in next year. They will be, because I’m going to put one on Her Majesty next month. Watch out for it in Vogue T.E.” Tressa paid no mind as they rolled their eyes. When it came down to it, truly only herself and Ambassador Iko had any sense of style.

Just as she was about to inform them of her influence on the high-waisted trend her face fell slack. Her body became rigid. With robotic movements, she marched away from the tittering group.

Tressa didn’t have the bio-lock. As a Lunar, the device could not prevent her from being manipulated, only nullify her gift. It wasn’t much use to a Lunar unless you wanted to circumvent the effects of Lunar Sickness, like Ambassador Winter. 

Tressa spied the empress ahead of her, deep in concentration, and knew then who was glamouring her. A few paces away the emperor was speaking to Konn Torin. The adviser looked even more stricken than usual.

She regained control of her body once in an arm’s reach of Cinder. “Majesty! Is everything okay?”

Cinder waved, signalling for Tressa to come closer. “Sorry, but you looked like you were in argument. You don’t exactly like to leave before proving yourself right.”

“Some people need to be taught.”

With a snort, Cinder plucked pins from her hair and cast them to the ground. “We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

Tressa nodded. “I’ll grab the hairspray.”

“No.” Cinder caught her by the arm. “More of a security threat situation.”

“Oh! What do you need me to do?” She bounced on her toes. “I can escort people out, or I can comm the guards or—”

“Or—” Cinder pulled out the final clasps from her hair. Once the crown was freed she placed it in Tressa’s hands. “You can put this into safekeeping.”

Tressa gaped. “That hairstyle took me an hour to do!”

“I know, I lived through it.” 

Tressa was pushed away before she could protest. She mourned the hairpins as they were trampled under Cinder’s shoes. But she’d scold the empress for it later.

Securing the crown, Tressa hurried away and noticed that group of elites gawking at her. She lifted the crown like a trophy, smirked, and disappeared up the stairs.

———

“I’ve already commed Cress and Thorne. They’ll meet you in the west hallway,” instructed Cinder.

Kai craned his head to hear her as his eyes scanned the perimeter. None of the guests had suspected anything awry yet. As for the guest who had been tranquilised, those surrounding had chalked it up to drunkenness and continued their revelry. 

“No, I’m staying with you.”

“You need to go,” she admonished. Her mouth became dry as she detected Dolion coming towards them. She grabbed onto Kai, forcing him back.

“Yes, your absence would be preferable,” returned Dolion’s sickening voice. True to his word, he had arrived five minutes later.

Kai didn’t acknowledge him. His grip on her hand tightened. “I’m not leaving you with him.”

Dolion withdrew the gun from his waistband. “Selene, I’m quite happy to have our conversation over your husband’s carcass if we can’t sort this out within the next ten seconds.” 

“No!” She was unable to disguise her panic. “Kai will leave.” Catching his gaze, she implored, “Love, go.”

A beat. Several, until Dolion started tapping the portwatch on his wrist.

Looking like he’d rather do anything but, Kai released her hand and left. When he reached the top of the staircase, she nodded at him. He turned away.

“Now,” she started, with no attempt to hide her loathing. “This is a nice party. You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”

Dolion pocketed the gun. “Of course not. I have values.”

“Good, so which value justifies you…hmm, breaking out of prison and threatening a massacre?” 

His bioelectricity tremored with his anger, and in that brief spike of emotion, his mind became weak. For once, her sarcasm may help more than it hindered. Maybe she didn’t need to be intimidating, as much as aggravating.

He seethed. “Your humour becomes you, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you.”

He was a tall man with very average features. Most thaumaturges were beautiful by their pristine glamours and cosmetic surgery. Perhaps Dolion had once looked that way, but he was unkempt now—from the hardships of prison, or apathy, she didn’t know which. He had black hair and dull brown eyes, and his cream skin was smooth, but Cinder knew he was well into his fifties, so it was the last shreds of a glamour that he maintained. 

He sighed sorrowfully. “I never wanted it to come to this. I was a loyal thaumaturge to your mother and aunt. I did my job and never went against it. And then you became queen, and had me imprisoned for crimes that you made up.” 

She deadpanned. “And?”

“You ruined my life.”

“You should say that to the hundreds of people you assaulted and abused and robbed. They know a little something about lives being ruined.”

Cinder remembered the first time she’d seen this man: he had been one of the thaumaturges alongside Levana when Cinder led a revolt on Artemisia Palace. After she had been instated as queen, many of the thaumaturges quietly retreated from public view, knowing the new sovereign would not sympathise with their position. The few that openly protested were the first to be tried for their crimes, and Dolion was one of them.

Recognising him from that day of battle, Cinder had had to force down a desire for retaliation. Luna’s justice system could not be founded on her own petty revenge. Then she learned of his other crimes, and her vice became fully justified.

Ire seeped into her words. “I had the complete authority to execute you, but I showed mercy by letting you live. I showed that I was better than you.”

“I would rather have been eviscerated than be subject to your mercy,” he spat. There was something off about his pronunciation, like he was putting on a bad impression. 

“Pleasant. So how did you escape?”

Dolion procured a napkin from his coat and swiped at his mouth. “Not everyone was content under your reign on Luna.”

She almost snickered. That much was obvious. “I’m aware. But, as you can see, I’m no longer the queen. I don’t think I can help you.”

“Revoke your sentence. Restore me to my position of thaumaturge and admit your injustice.”

She shrugged. “Out of my scope of powers, buddy.”

“Then use your powers as a union leader.”

“Can’t.”

His lip curled in disdain. “You pardoned your little criminal friend, you can do the same to me.”

She snapped her fingers. “Oh, right. But, here’s the thing: you’re a terrible person, so why would I do that?”

Rip. The torn napkin fluttered to the ground.

“I have my own demands,” she continued, forcing her voice into confidence. “You apologise to your countless victims—a list you’ve just added to—then surrender and crawl back into the musty dungeon where you belong.”

He fixed a glare on her. She glared back. Prayed internally that Kai had been right, and that she was intimidating to talk to; even if it was only to mask her own fear.

But Dolion showed no signs of apprehension. “You are not the one in control here.”

Ha.

Then suddenly, inexplicably, his shoulders relaxed. He fixed his posture. Raised his chin. “I see you’ve made your choice. I’d hoped otherwise, but I cannot say I expected otherwise.”

Up until now his eyes had shone with bloodlust, unhinged and flagrant. Now, his plain features were smoothed over with composure.

She did her best to act unperturbed by this change. “Sorry for disappointing.”

He scoffed, somehow serene, and that unnerved her more than anything. “No matter. You’re still easy to sway. All I have to do is threaten a few people.” 

Before she could react, he grabbed his gun and fired a shot into the crowd. Cinder gasped. Some belated shouts erupted, the music stopped, but no screams of impact were heard.

“Stop,” she forced out, grinding her teeth.

“You know my terms. If you won’t agree to them, and you claim there’s nothing to be done, then I only have one other solution.”

Cinder backed away. 

The crowd buzzed in panic. 

Dolion was calm.

Cinder rooted herself to the floor. “You were right,” she growled. “I shouldn’t have shown mercy.”

The sounds of the crowd silenced as, suddenly, every guest around them warped into nothingness. 

A surge of impulse rushed through him—she could feel it in his bioelectricity, which she had long ago seized. 

He pointed the gun at her head and fired. The impact was deafening as the bullet connected with a metal vase across the room. An awful chiming sound. Like a bell perpetually ringing in your ears.

But it shouldn’t have been. It should’ve been a dull thump as the bullet embedded into Cinder’s skull.

In an instant, the apparition of Cinder vanished too. The false din gone, one could now hear a far-off clatter of feet and frantic questioning from hundreds behind the massive doors.

Dolion spun around violently in the empty ballroom, only just catching the edge of a shimmering ballgown slip into the west hallway.

Notes - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Let me know if you'd like to be removed from or added to the taglist.

@cinderswrench @cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @zephyr-thedragon @holdmysparks @oceanspray5 @icarusignite @shellyseashell @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @cosmicnovaflare @kaixiety

[simplestravel]

In the morning I am the only kiter at the edge of the bay, enjoy the flat shallow sandbanks and the surf to the open sea. It feels amazing to independently fly over the water to try some turns or jumps in the waves.

These young boys are the angles on the water. Having the overview while sending some wild jumps.

Once my Kite broke down, the first took my board, the second my kite and the third dragged my to the coast.

The sun and the salt is slowly killing our skin. Never before I woke up at night because of lip-pain. I wander if a tourist before us has kited in ski underwear… but hey, there it is the IKO Certificate.

[ikowave]

Iko;WAVE is more than just an artist name. It's a journey. Meet the first character on this journey. His name is Nolu, he is 18 years old, seemingly shy & keeps to himself, loves to look at life with different perspectives, & enjoys apricots. 🍑

[mantleoflight]

—Mission File—

DESIGNATION: ####

DECRYPTION KEY: QF4LYZX16G$IKO-###

SUBJECT: Echo-17 Mission File

Designation: ECH-119 Name: Echo-17 Race: Exomind Class: Hunter Subclass: Arc Ghost: Whisper

Risen: previously presumed 2 years ago, but recent evidence indicates a possible earlier rezz date. Investigation is ongoing.

Status: Limited Active Engagement

Missions Previously Assigned:

BL: Aftermath Cleanup -- As ECH-119 was presumably rezzed after the defeat of Eramis, she has been on patrols to ensure the instability of Vex and House Salvation military forces, escort and ensure safe departure of Eliksni refugees, and the maintaining of Vanguard presence on Europa.

TWQ: Active Engagement -- one of the second wave of guardians to follow after the YW and enter Savathun's Throneworld to aid in preventing invasion, and theft of the Traveler. Was involved in a controversy regarding the invention of new grips called "bubble gloves" designed to capture hive ghosts and prevent them from raising hive light-bearers. Hive POWs were found unacceptable by the Consensus and ECH-119's proposal was revoked.

TWQ: H!AU[REDACTED]: [During one of her investigation assignments of the throneworld, ECH-119 went missing for a period of 3 months. After said time, a light-bearing acolyte was killed in combat. Upon its death, however, the acolyte's chitin disintegrated, revealing ECH-119, presumably under some spell of the Witch Queen. With aid from Eris and other guardians, the hive magics afflicting ECH-119 were purged though some traces remain. ECH-119 is under close surveillance and is only permitted to engage in Vanguard Duties under other guardian supervision

SotH: nightmare dispatch assistance — Assisted in nightmare management and containment while the YW aided Crow, Zavala, and Caiatl in nightmare-to-memory rituals. ECH-119 was recused from further Leviathan missions due to Nightmare-related instabilities. [ADDENDUM]: After several months of medical leave and some assistance from fellow guardians, ECH-119 seems to be sufficiently coping with previously referred Nightmare-related instabilities. Observation is still ongoing but permission to return to active duty has been approved.

SoP: Treasure Hauler—Worked with SAL-103 assisting House Light in recovering stolen goods for the benefit of Vanguard and House Light operations, recovering relics from Eramis's recruited crews, and aided in construction efforts to improve living standards for the House of Light.

SotS: Seraph Assist—Engaged in assisting Ana Bray in the reconstruction of Rasputin, infiltration of Submind facilities, and recovery of Submind data. Assistance was disrupted due to a critical OS malfunction. The cause of the malfunction is unknown. Aid was received from an unknown agent. Medical Leave is provided on grounds of recovery.

SoD: Weapons Tech — remained on medical leave but did volunteer skills to aid guardians in the field.

SotD: Active Engagement— Returned to active duty, aided in OP: L0NG-GIRL with operatives SAL-103, PEI-271, DRX-398, DAR-218, MFW-611, FAS-482, and MRK-807. Successfully aided Sloan in both connection with and recovery of proto-worm, Ahsa, from hive forces of Xivu Arath. Successfully intervened in disrupted mission, rescuing and returning MFW-611, DAR-218 to Tower for medical assistance.

SotW: Active Engagement— Currently working closely with Eris and Ikora to secure victory against Xivu Arath.

[linh-cindy]

Shining Brown Eyes

A High School AU where Cinder takes time off her mechanics job, goes to the bookstore to buy a new sheet of blueprints and some notebooks—and that’s where she meets Kai. Inspired by this post! ☺️ Thanks Anon!

“You need a break, Cinder.”

Cinder looked up to see Iko, her amazing blue-haired friend, with her hands on her hips and frowning at her.

“No, thanks, Iko. I’m fine,” Cinder responded, picking up a wrench on her table and cleaning it with an old rag.

“Seriously, Cinder. You need a break from Adri!” snapped Iko, squatting next to her and brushing off the dust in Cinder’s hair.

Cinder smiled. “Iko. That’s really generous of you, but—”

“Go, go!” Iko snatched both the wrench and rag from the mechanic’s metal grip. “I’ll take care of this. It’s your birthday!”

“Oh.” Cinder checked her internal calendar. December 21st. “I… didn’t notice.”

A snort. “Adri doesn’t let you notice. She’s been distracting you from the purposes in life!” Iko waved her hands.

“I sort of like the work,” said Cinder, grabbing her work gloves off the table and slipping them on.

“Like?!”

Cinder flinched and turned down her audio interface.

All Cinder knew next was being shoved out the door and pushed onto the sidewalk.

“Have fun on your shopping spree!” yelled Iko from the apartment.

Cinder sighed. Then she remembered that she ran out of blueprint template sheets and notebooks to fill in her drafts for her bioengineering course in school.

Might as well go to the bookstore, Cinder thought.

It took only a few minutes to walk to her destination. The little bell gave a small jingle as Cinder pushed open the door with her elbow.

Checking her gloves and boots, she entered.

The shopping spree did not go well.

As she headed to the notebooks section, she bumped into somebody, resulting in her left glove tumbling to the floor.

Cinder cursed.

The “somebody” she ran into cursed as well. “Gah! Sorry, sorry!”

Cinder stood up and picked up the glove from the floor.

She looked up and caught the glint of shining brown eyes and black hair.

Drat!

Cinder pulled on her glove while he wasn’t looking.

“Uhm… sorry I bumped into you,” she said. Then suddenly she remembers this guy. He’s the one Iko had been rambling about all week. Kaito Prince—one of the richest young entrepreneurs ever.

I finally got his number! Iko had said. I ran into him yesterday. Do you wanna meet him?

Cinder had shrugged.

Oh. No. No.

“You must be Cinder?” he asked.

“…yes.”

“Iko’s your sister?”

“…uhm. Yeah. You’re… Kaito Prince, right?”

“Just call me Kai. Kaito is way too fancy for me.”

All Cinder could do was blink and nod.

“Iko told me you wanted to meet me.”

Cinder had been expecting that statement—still, she went into a panic. She stood up from her kneeling position. “Oh! Uh— When Iko asked me I wasn’t really thinking straight and I was really distracted at the time, so—” She cleared her throat.

Was that disappointment in his eyes?

“Uhm… well, do you wanna hang out sometime?” Kai asked.

“Yes. I mean- okay,” Cinder said. She gulped. “I might be a little busy so—”

“That’s fine,” replied Kai almost immediately. “Here’s my number.” He took Cinder’s left hand and slipped a sticky note into it.

An electric pulse ran through her the moment Kai’s hand met hers.

“I guess I’ll call you later, then?” said Kai.

“Maybe,” said Cinder.

“Oh. Okay. Then, uhm… Bye. Happy birthday.”

Cinder waved back without a word.

As she headed back to the apartment, notebooks in hand, she wondered:

Was she in love?

Tags:

Should I make a part 2? Ooh, maybe let’s make this a mini series :O

@gingerale2017

@kaider-is-my-otp

@kaiderforever

@princessselene126

@thetlctrash

@ANYONE

[kiteschooleg]

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[health-product7679]

Kitesurfing for Beginners: Catching the Wind and the Waves

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Write a beginner’s guide to kitesurfing, including an overview of what is needed to get started.

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Kitesurfing for Beginners: Catching the Wind and the Waves

Kitesurfing, also known as kiteboarding, is a thrilling watersport that harnesses the power of wind to propel you across the water on a board. It combines aspects of wakeboarding, surfing, and sailing, offering an exhilarating experience surrounded by nature. If you're looking for an adventure on the water, kitesurfing might be your perfect match!

Getting Started:

Kitesurfing requires specific skills and knowledge to ensure safety and enjoyment. Here's a roadmap to get you started on the right foot:

1. Take Lessons:

This is the most crucial step. Kitesurfing can be dangerous if not learned properly. A qualified instructor will teach you essential skills like kite control, body positioning, water relaunch techniques, and safety procedures. Look for International Kiteboarding Organization (IKO) or Professional Kiteboarding Association (PKRA) certified instructors in your area.

2. Understand the Gear:

Kitesurfing equipment consists of a kite, a board, a harness, a bar and lines, and a wetsuit. Your instructor will provide all the necessary equipment during your lessons. As you progress, you'll gain knowledge about different gear types and what suits your riding style.

3. Practice on Land:

Before hitting the water, gain confidence by practicing kite control on land. Your instructor will guide you through launching, steering, and landing the kite in a safe environment.

4. Hit the Water:

Once comfortable on land, your lessons will progress to shallow water. Here, you'll learn body dragging (being pulled by the kite while lying face down on the water) and water restarts (relaunching the kite from the water).

5. Up and Riding!

Finally, with proper technique and under the watchful eye of your instructor, you'll graduate to standing on the board and riding across the water!

Additional Tips:https://getaizenpower24.com/start/index.php#aff=Rajibmahato123

Fitness: While you don't need to be a super athlete, a basic level of fitness will help you progress faster and enjoy the sport more.

Conditions: Wind and water are your playground, but they can also be powerful forces. Learn about safe wind strengths for beginners and choose appropriate locations with limited hazards.

Weather: Be aware of weather conditions like thunderstorms and strong winds that can be dangerous for kitesurfing.

Kitesurfing offers an incredible way to connect with the water and the power of nature. By following these steps and prioritizing safety, you'll be well on your way to carving your path across the waves!

[imsseguine3]

Kitesurf Essaouira Morocco

Escape the ordinary and embrace the extraordinary as Essaouira, Morocco, invites you to ride the wind and waves through our kitesurfing school. Immerse yourself in the thrill of this dynamic water sport, where our expert instructors and stunning coastal backdrop create the perfect setting for an unforgettable kitesurfing experience.

The Kitesurfing Symphony: Embark on a journey of kitesurfing mastery with our thoughtfully curated lessons, catering to enthusiasts of all skill levels. Whether you're a first-time flyer or a seasoned rider, our courses promise an immersive experience in the art of kitesurfing, blending skill-building with the sheer joy of the sea.

Lesson Variations:

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Semi-Private Harmony: Share the excitement with a friend or family member in our semi-private lessons. Enjoy the harmonious balance of individualized coaching and shared accomplishments, fostering a supportive environment for both participants.

Group Dynamics: Join a community of like-minded adventurers in our group lessons, where the collective energy enhances the kitesurfing experience. Revel in the camaraderie of conquering waves together and celebrate shared successes as you navigate the Moroccan coastline.

Instructor Excellence: Safety and expertise are paramount in our kitesurfing school. Our instructors boast certifications from prestigious organizations such as the International Kiteboarding Organization (IKO) and the VDWS (Verband Deutscher Windsurfing und Wassersportschulen). Beyond certifications, our instructors bring a wealth of experience, ensuring a safe and enjoyable learning environment.

Ageless Adventure Awaits: Kitesurfing knows no age limits, and neither do our lessons. Whether you're a young adventurer or young-at-heart, our school welcomes participants of all ages. Discover the joy of kitesurfing in an inclusive environment that transcends generational boundaries.

Tailored Progression for All: Our lessons cater to a diverse range of skill levels, ensuring a customized progression for every participant. Whether you're mastering the basics or refining advanced techniques, our dedicated instructors guide you through each stage of your kitesurfing journey.

Conclusion: Embark on a journey of kitesurfing euphoria with our lessons in Essaouira, Morocco. Whether you choose the intimacy of a private soaring session, the harmonious dynamics of semi-private lessons, or the collective symphony of group dynamics, our school is your gateway to soaring above the waves and experiencing the pure joy of kitesurfing. Join us, and let Essaouira be the canvas for your kitesurfing masterpiece!