darkorderaf

[odd-im-o]

How to Create an Imaginary

*this guide has been created based on my own experiences and what has worked for me. it is purely a recommendation and should by no means be treated as the final say on imagimancy

*the items within this post have no set order. do whichever points you want, however you want, whenever you want and only IF you want!

*enjoy :D

There's many reasons someone may want to summon an imaginary. Maybe you had one as a child and miss them. Maybe you never quite figured out how to make one in the first place. Maybe the idea of having sentient thoughtforms and willos is a big commitment you're not ready to take yet.

Whatever the reason, I wanted to compile a guide of sorts outlining how to create your own!

What is an Imaginary?

An imaginary is a non- or partially-sentient being drawn from someone's imagination. This could be a fictional character, pet, companion, or anything else! These friends are typically constructed in ones mind and projected out into the real world. It's like a para outside of the paracosm, or an oc specifically designed to interact with you, the creator.

This guide will outline tips to create and maintain your own imaginary.

Choose a Type

Before you can summon an imaginary, you need to know what role your imaginary will play. Are they meant to be a pet, friend, caregiver, lover, or something else entirely? Are they human? Mythical? Something else? Will they be brain-made? Or maybe they're drawn from pre-existing media?

The limits are your own imagination. Choose what fits your own interests and needs.

Draw Inspiration

Your new imaginary may be born from your mind, but it's helpful to draw inspiration from other places. Maybe there's a character you want them to resemble, or a personality you find fitting with your own. Maybe you have an idea for an aesthetic or style your imaginary will take on.

Gather those inspirations and use them moving forward! Maybe make a folder in your phone filled with interesting images, write down what tickles your fancy, or make an collage online. Whatever the method, have fun with this step! It will help flesh out your imaginary.

Visualization

Once you've gathered ideas for your imaginary, it's time to start visualizing. This is, personally, the most difficult part. Your companion, afterall, doesn't actually exist quite yet. It's through your own mind that they will manifest, and that takes a bit of time and effort on your part.

One method of visualization is art. Draw what you want your imaginary to look like, or use picrews or other online-makers to create them. Make them a few times over, see what fits and what feels right, and eventually you should settle on something that's correct.

Another method is picturing. Turn on some music or ASMR you want to associate with your imaginary, close your eyes, and see what appears. Write down anything notable or simply observe. See what comes to mind.

Regardless of your method, at the end you should be able to picture the key traits of your imaginary. Don't worry if these traits change later on. Your imaginary is a being, afterall, and is subject to change. Just settle on what feels right and give your imaginary room to grow as they get settled.

Characterization

As you start to visualize your imaginary, their personality should start to shine through as well.

Observe your imaginary and see what personality traits begin to arise. How do they act? How do they speak? How do they interact with you? Interact with others?

Alternatively, make these choices for yourself! Do you want your imaginary to be friendly? Aggressive? Assertive? Are they an ally to you or a needed opposition?

Also take the time to flesh out your relationship with your imaginary. What role do they play in your life? How do they add to or subtract from your world? How do you two interact?

Once again, these answers may change as your imaginary grows, but begin to take notes of some key factors you notice or want within your imaginary.

Interaction

This is the fun one. While it is completely valid to not interact with your imaginaries, I personally find that interaction is what sets an imaginary apart from OCs or fictional character daydreaming.

That being said, your imaginaries aren't sentient and are somewhat controlled by you. Here's some tips for interacting with your imaginaries and helping to build a relationship between the two of you.

Schedule Interaction Time

I, personally, spend time with my imaginary every morning while I do my daily routine. It provides set-aside time for us to bond and helps to make sure I don't forget he exists.

Choosing a time to interact with your imaginary can really help to build a relationship and make sure they consistently appear. Maybe you talk with your imaginary during lunchbreaks everyday, or Saturday afternoons are always set aside for the two of you. Try not to let this get in the way of other relationships, though. Those are important. It's simply helpful to know that, say, while you do the dishes everyday, a friend will be sitting there to talk with you.

Choose Points in Space

When interacting with your imaginary, try choosing points in the world around you where they appear. Maybe you have a dragon sitting on your shoulder, or a giant crouched outside your window, or a fairy flying just ahead of you. Even if you can't literally see your companion, imagine where they would be while you interact.

Chat with your Imaginary

Talking with your imaginary is a great form of interaction. I personally will talk out loud and give my imaginary time to respond. Another method is to have a mental conversation between the two of you.

At the start, it may feel a little awkward and forced. You may be choosing what your imaginary says and how they respond. But keep with it. Over time the communication should begin to feel more natural.

Forming Habits

Once the hardest parts are done, your only other job is to form habits. Choose moments when you want your imaginary to appear and regularly summon them then. Get used to interacting with them consistently. Observe the way they change and grow as the two of you get to know each other.

Ultimately, if your imaginary doesn't stick around, don't fret! It's totally okay for them to fade. But with a bit of time and effort, you can have an imaginary that sticks with you for a long time :)

[signfromeywa]

AUNGIA TA EYWA (A SIGN FROM EYWA)

Chapter 04: Language exercises

Description:

Anastasia Novak is a behavioural scientist tasked with socializing a captive Na'vi on behalf of the RDA. The longer she works with the Na'vi and the closer she gets to him, the more she has to rethink everything she thought she knew and redefine her morals and values. Can she just carry on like this, or will she follow her heart?

Content: Rating +18, Avatar fanfiction, human x Na'vi ship, Na'vi captured

Characters: Human OCs: Anastasia Novak, Steven Turner, Patra// Na'vi OCs: Ean'tu,

Word Count: 3688

⊹˚₊‧─────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

❗️English is not my native language! I apologize very much if it reads a bit bumpy here and there.

I’m a German author and this is the first time I’ve tried to translate a story I’m working on into English and upload it. I still hope you enjoy it.❗

Ana pointed her finger at her eyes and waited.

"Eyes." Ean'tu said with a still strong accent. Ana now pointed to her mouth, her nose, showed her hands and pointed to his feet. The na'vi already knew the English words. Then she pointed to his chest and looked at him expectantly.

"I am Ean'tu." he said.

"That's right!" now she pointed to herself.

"You are Ana."

"Yes, very good." she smiled at him with satisfaction. The couple of weeks they had had to practise had paid off. Ean'tu was a fast learner. Ana was about to start another query when she heard someone knocking on the glass of the room. She then turned around and noticed Turner. He indicated that she should come out for a moment and when his gaze fell on Ean'tu, his friendly look became uncertain and he waved timidly at the Na'vi. Ean'tu did not return the kindness and just turned his head away, scowling.

"I'll be right back." Ana then said and got up from the floor where she had just been sitting opposite of Ean'tu.

"Ok." Ean'tu replied and Ana was so proud and amazed that he was really trying to speak English to her as much and as well as he could. She gave him a brief smile, then grabbed the digital clipboard and went out through the airlock to Turner.

"He hates me," was the first thing Mr. Turner said, stroking the back of his neck. It was certainly hurting him, Ana had watched him for days with a mountain of paperwork and reports to write.

"Well you can't blame him, you haven't shown him any kindness for a long time. You must be an enemy of him. But now you're doing the right thing," Ana explained.

"Argh! You're probably right!" Turner shook off his steamy demeanor and refocused on work. "I have news about the enclosure. The tree hasn't been damaged, thankfully, and the wall is almost finished now. The enclosure is being re-cultivated with plants in one place, do you... well, what does the Na'vi like, if you have anything to contribute, we can still make changes there."

"Really? That would be great, I already have something in mind, I need to talk to Sky about it." They are still using Ean'tu's project name to avoid drawing attention to themselves and appear inconspicuous.

"Do that, I need more detailed information by tomorrow. Let's hope it's not too exotic, otherwise it would have to be obtained from outside and I don't know how to justify it to our boss."

"By God, he shouldn't make such a fuss, he has enough money." Ana snorted, she had never met the boss in person, but she couldn't stand him anymore. Not after all the secrets, the untruths and, above all, what happened to Ean'tu. No good person would let that happen.

"May I ask you a question?" Turner looked into the enclosure. "How did you know that the Na'vi would be interested in all this stuff?"

Ana now also looked into the enclosure. Turner was obviously referring to the fabrics, fibers, ropes and colors she had brought Ean'tu. He had not only painted the fabrics with the colors, but also the walls. He also wove things from the ropes, small yarn and beads that she had brought him later. Baskets, small wind chimes, or simply jewelry for the body. They were complex things that had taken him several days of work and that he had spent every free minute on when he wasn't sleeping or studying with Ana. Ana had already photographed and documented a lot of it for his file.

"I didn't really know, it was more of a hunch, he seemed interested in my drawing and colors. That motivated me to give him paint and fabric to have him do it," she explained. "I have to say that his creations really impress me, they are artistic and beautiful."

Turner listened to Ana and then smiled. " My dear colleague, the way you look at the Na'vi, I have the feeling that you find something else quite beautiful."

With suddenly red cheeks, she turned to Turner. "What are you saying!" It wasn't like that at all, at least that's what she tried to tell herself all the time. Her heart couldn't take anything else.

"I hope so, because we both know that you and the Na'vi are fundamentally different. Maintain professionalism. He remains an alien." Even though Turner smiled, his words had a cautionary tone.

Ana knew he was right, she had to remain professional. Ean'tu certainly saw her as a friend, if anything. Even that was an honor, considering the circumstances. Something she perhaps shouldn't even presume to hope for.

"I disturbed you during your practice, Novak. You can go back to him. He's been looking at me waiting the whole time. I've got some work to do, so I'll go back to my desk." He gave Ana a friendly pat on the shoulder and turned away again.

She had to take a breath for a moment, then she stepped back through the airlock to Ean'tu.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"What was wrong?" Ean'tu had gotten up and came over to her.

"It's nothing. We were just talking about your enclosure."

"Enclosure..." he repeated the word, which he didn't seem to understand but tried anyway.

"Where you slept before." Ana then explained the word to him. "With the tree and the plants."

She could see that he remembered now. "Are my things... broken?" he asked a little awkwardly, pointing to the homemade objects lying around in the room. At first Ana didn't understand why these things should be broken, then she thought she understood.

"You have these things in the tree too?" she asked, speaking slowly so that the Na'vi could understand.

He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I did things in the tree."

"-made things in the tree." Ana corrected him politely and slowly, remembering immediately that she had actually seen him weaving things at the very beginning. Apparently he kept them somewhere up in the tree. "What do you need for the things? At home." Ana then asked.

Ean'tu thought about it and then told her things she didn't know and couldn't categorize. She then looked at him, somewhat perplexed.

"I can show you... if you show me," he said.

That was an excellent idea, but what could she show him?

"Plants from home." he said and now Ana knew.

On the digital clipboard she had with her, she could access data from a kind of digital encyclopedia. Unfortunately, there was hardly any information, since much of it was not accessible to everyone, but at least there were pictures and a name.

"Come." Ana sat down on the bed with him and opened the encyclopedia in the device. The front page showed an overview of the categories. Trees, flowers, bushes and so on.

Ean'tu pointed to the shrubs and bushes. So she calmly went through the plants in this category. Showed him every single picture.

He then pointed to one, "Tautral is the name of the plant."

Ana looked at the caption on the picture, 'Beanstalk Palm' she read in her head.

"What are you doing with it?" Ana then asked.

Ean'tu formed a large bowl with his hands, "We can put things in it at home," he tried to explain, but it was difficult for him with the few words he knew in English. So he stood up and picked up a very tightly woven wind chime. It had an upper part that had a tightly woven surface. "This. Like this." He formed the bowl again.

Ana thought about it and then searched in her device for a picture of a woven round basket. "Like this?"

Ean'tu's expression brightened when he saw that Ana had understood him. "Yes!"

"It's a basket." she told him the missing word.

"Basket." he repeated a few times until it sounded right. "We have a basket at home. Big, for things and food."

"With the plant, can you make lots of things?" Ana asked. To which he nodded again. "I'll get the plant into your enclosure."

The Na'vi understood and smiled happily at her. Yes, he was almost beaming a little. Ana had never seen him smile like that before. This plant would give him back a bit of home and give him the opportunity to do what he seemed to love doing. Because he was really good at weaving things.

"I like your smile, it's pretty." Ana confessed honestly.

Ean'tu was surprised and thought about the words for a moment to understand them. Then he pointed at himself. "Pretty?"

Ana nodded and he blushed slightly as he understood the meaning, then smiled a little sheepishly and brushed a strand of his hair behind his ear. "Thank you."

Ana returned his smile, glad that he hadn't taken the compliment amiss or been averse to it.

"Ean'tu?" she began and the Na'vi looked at her again. Carefully, she touched his hair. "May I... make your hair beautiful?"

He looked at her questioningly. " Beautiful?" He didn't understand and looked at the rather disheveled hair himself. No one seemed to have paid much attention to it for very long. "Not beautiful..."

Ana touched his hand. "I'll help you, okay?" she wanted to comb his hair, he had long, dark brown curly hair that would certainly look fantastic with a little care. Ana had also noticed for some time that he didn't like his hair like this.

To her surprise, Ean'tu clasped her hand and looked her firmly in the eye. "Okay, help my hair."

Even though he said this in a calm voice, she recognized his uncertainty. His hair was obviously important to him, Ana would do her best not to disappoint him. Once he had his hair done, he would certainly feel more comfortable again.

She stood up and smiled. "I'll be right back." He nodded and Ana left the isolated room to Turner, who looked up from his work.

"So, did you find out anything?" he wanted to know.

Ana placed the tablet on his desk and pointed to the plant that Ean'tu had just shown her. "This one, he can weave baskets with it and other things too, I think that's what they used to do back home."

"A beanstalk palm, that's something that can be arranged."

"Very nice, thank you very much." She gave Turner a grateful smile and then turned away from him to go to her bags.

Since Ean'tu had been in this department, temporarily, she had also stayed here. She had slept in a staff room adjacent to the ward. That's why she had a few personal items, such as sleeping clothes, a change of clothes, a toothbrush and a brush and care products.

"What are you up to?" Turner looked over at her and watched Ana rummaging in her bag.

"I need my brush and my hair oil," she mumbled into the bag.

"Should I ask?"

"I want to comb his hair, no one has done that for a long time and I want him to feel good again."

"Well, I hope you know what you're doing." Turner was suspicious, as he often was. He had faith in Ana's abilities, but not in Ean'tu.

She emerged from the bag, armed with a brush and grooming oil. "There you go, let me get to work."

Finally, she grabbed the tablet again and went to Ean'tu in the isolated room. The Na'vi seemed to be waiting for her.

"I have what I need," she said and showed him the brush and the oil. She was sure that he was familiar with the concept of the brush, but he seemed to be taking a closer look at the oil.

"What's that?" he was unsure.

"It goes in your hair and makes it easier to comb," explained Ana.

But Ean'tu didn't quite seem to understand and was still looking at the bottle uncertainly. Ana knew it was because he didn't know enough English words for her to explain it to him in detail.

"Trust me, ok?" she gently placed her hand on his and looked at him. Now he nodded. "OK."

"Come on, sit down." Ana pointed to the floor in front of her and Ean'tu sat down with his back to her. His shoulders were tense, she could see his tense muscles.

She lovingly stroked his shoulders so that he relaxed a little under her touch. It was a great sign of trust from him, Ana appreciated it very much. After the Na'vi had taken a deep breath, she gently touched his hair. She carefully ran her fingers through it as best she could and found that the hair was not as matted as she had expected. Had he tried to take care of his hair? Which certainly hadn't been easy without tools.

"Look." She took a strand of hair and put the hair oil on it, bringing the strand to the front so that Ean'tu could see what she was doing. "Now I can comb it better."

Very slowly, she began to comb the many small knots out of his curls with the brush, careful not to hurt Ean'tu. He watched closely as she did this to the first strand of hair and seemed satisfied. Apparently he was no longer afraid or worried.

"You're doing well." he then said quietly and it surprised Ana. Her heart immediately began to beat faster. He seemed to relax beneath her and let her do it completely.

"Thank you." she replied shyly and continued. The Na'vi had thick and much hair. When she was so far through with one strand, she continued with the next. She quickly realized that this would probably take some time until she had carefully combed through all the matted hair. She really had to proceed very carefully, strand by strand. She might not even be able to do it in one day, but she did her best.

While she worked gently on his hair, Ean'tu held still. He didn't say a word, breathing evenly, and when she secretly checked on him, she noticed that he had even closed his eyes.

"Do you like that?" she asked cautiously.

"You're going slow... I like it." he replied in a calm, quiet tone. Ana didn't know exactly what he meant, but he certainly couldn't put into words what he was thinking any better. The important thing was that he liked what Ana was doing. He was going through enough, he should be allowed to relax and she was happy to help him.

For what felt like an eternity, she combed through many strands of hair one after the other and the hours passed. Her arm was starting to hurt, she clearly needed a break.

"I need a break." Ana stretched, even her back hurt from standing for so long.

"Are you done?" Ean'tu turned to her and grabbed his hair.

"No, I'll continue tomorrow." Ana thought about it. She didn't want the combed hair to get mixed back into the matted hair. Spontaneously, she had an idea. She removed her hair tie from her hair. "May I?"

The Na'vi nodded and turned his back to her again. Ana took his hair and braided it into a tight plait. That way, nothing would get tangled overnight and she could continue tomorrow. But she left the long braid he already had alone.

"You can sleep like this," she explained, hoping he wouldn't undo the braid. "I'll take it off tomorrow."

He nodded and turned back around. "Thank you." He looked surprisingly deep into her eyes. Once again she realized how beautiful his eyes were, a beauty that could not be compared to anything she knew on earth.

"Your eyes are pretty." A little hesitantly, Ana reached out to Ean'tu and touched his cheek.

He took her hand and placed it fully against his cheek. He seemed to like the touch. Ana's heart raced, what was she doing? Why did this touch feel so good and familiar. Why did she have such a bond with the Na'vi, so different from anything she had ever felt but also so much stronger than anything she knew. Could this really be?

"Oel ngati kameie" he said softly in his own language, looking deep into her eyes. As if he was looking into her soul with his big, beautiful reddish eyes.

"What does that mean?" Ana also asked very quietly.

"I see you..." he now placed his fingertips on the spot on her chest where the heart sat underneath. His touch was gentle and his fingers warm. "I see you here."

Ana's heart was beating fast and she was sure he could feel it. The touch and the words were so pure and in their purest form. She was so close to him at that moment. Ana didn't know what to say in response.

What was Ean'tu trying to tell her? Was she more to him than an alien? One of the humans? Did that no longer play a role between them? Was he describing the feeling she felt all the time and couldn't put into words?

She smiled lovingly at him. "I see you." Because she did. She saw Ean'tu. He was more than just an alien, an animal or a prisoner. She really liked him.

A beep on her tablet made them both jump up and let go of each other. Ana looked out the window in confusion and caught sight of Turner, but he wasn't alone.

*

As always, Turner was deeply immersed in his work. By now, it had become so normal for Novak to keep going back to the Navi in the isolation room that he had gotten used to it. He refrained from looking at it all the time and used the time to look at all the documents and reports. The repair of the enclosure needed a lot of organization and a lot of applications had to be made or landed on his desk. That was a lot of work.

Surprised, he looked up from his work when he heard the large mechanical door to the station open. He leaned backwards away from his desk to see who had just entered the station. When he recognized the man coming into the room with two soldiers to his right and left, he jumped up from his desk chair and hurried over. He hectically smoothed his shirt and straightened his tie.

"Good evening Mr. Cornett, what a surprise. Forgive the mess." He shook the man's hand in greeting.

He gave him a firm handshake. "Well, I thought I'd check on my pretty Sky. I would have come sooner after hearing that my pet was injured. But I wasn't in the area. How is he?"

"Oh you don't have to worry, he's in perfect health." Turner assured him.

"In fact, I'm also here to meet my new employee, Dr. Novak. We haven't had the opportunity in person yet." His eyes were already searching around the room. "Is she here at the moment?"

"Well, yes, to a certain extent. But she's currently with Sky in the isolation room, working on him." Turner explained, noticing that his boss was simply walking past him and taking a look at the situation himself.

"She's WITH Sky? In the same room?" he seemed disbelieving and wanted to see for himself.

"Yes sir," Turner pointed to the isolated room, which was separated from them by a large window. You could look through it into the room and see what was going on there. Turner looked in with his boss and held his breath tensely. He could hardly believe his own eyes. The Na'vi and Miss Novak had become surprisingly close, almost familiar. An inconvenient time, now that the boss was here. She certainly didn't want the boss to know.

Nervously, but as inconspicuously as he could, he took his cell phone out of his coat pocket. He should let Novak know that the boss was present to avoid anything worse.

"No, please," the boss had noticed his intentions and raised his hand slightly to indicate that Turner shouldn't do that. "I like watching Novak at work."

Turner looked at the man, whose eyes were fixed on Novak and Sky. The boss's eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw tightened. Even though he had just sounded calm, Turner could see that the boss didn't like what he was seeing. What exactly was bothering him he couldn't guess, but he had a feeling Novak was in trouble.

"Since when has Sky been so tame?" he asked.

"Well, I'd say since Novak started working intensively with him here. So after the incident with the crash." Turner didn't want to give too much away, so he kept his answer as vague as possible. He didn't want to stab his colleague in the back. After all, she trusted him.

"Interesting..." muttered the boss quietly. He sounded annoyed, even though he obviously didn't want to let it show. "I've seen enough, let Dr. Novak know she's coming out of there, I have things to discuss with her."

Turner swallowed and used his cell phone to send a message to Novak's tablet. They were both immediately startled and let go of each other. Novak turned to the glass, startled, and saw both men standing there. In just a fraction of a minute, she had jumped up, came out of the room and took off her mask to come over to them, where the boss was already waiting for her with his arms crossed and his jaw tensed.

Tag list: @twisteduniverse5 @yukilaaw @mooniequeen @anemonelovesfiction (If you want to get added, comment it under the post)

[spookygibberish]

Hiii! I REALLY love your Thrones and I'd like to ask if I could make one as a oc?

I'm not sure if I've shared enough information about their cultural context publicly for people to do this well, but I have helped my friends workshop Throne OCs before.

Some important stuff to know:

There are two broad classes that most Thrones fall into, private and imperial. Thrones which are private citizens can technically be found all over the empire, on account of the fact they're wealthy enough to go and live wherever the hell they want, but you're going to find the greatest number of them in Godtomb and other densely urbanized areas of the Imperial core. All thrones belong to the aristocracy by nature, as they're directly a product of wealth and privilege. If a Throne is not currently wealthy, they are inevitably descended from wealth. They were also a huge huge fad before the creation of new thrones was clamped down on, and nearly every old money merchant empire is a Throne family. Godtomb (the imperial capital) has the highest number of Thrones which are not associated with the government, as it was the birthplace of the literary movement which first spawned them (longish story). It is tempting to say that private citizen thrones are more diverse than governmental ones, but it's more accurate to say they are more diverse than thrones belonging to the tricolor court, which has fairly strict expectations for the appearances of Headless (quadrupedal; preferences for lions, lizards (varanid), oxen, eagles; a set color palette (gold, azure, white); the inevitable 'mantle' of 'petals', etc....)

Imperial Thrones can be divided along the lines of whether or not they are associated with the Tricolor court, A government body made up of regional power centers (Greathouses) which communicate directly with and contribute to the government in Godtomb. Each Tricolor Greathouse has houses under it which may or may not be aesthetically aligned with the tricolor court, if not directly members, depending on how culturally similar they are to the Hegemony. The further you get from the Bitano, the more likely these Provincial Houses are to differ and be more influenced by non-hegemonic local culture.

By necessity, all Thrones, governmental or not, are inexorably associated with the Empire and their existence functions first and foremost to legitimize its authority. Even in the cases of provinces like Lujnola and Sevab, which are each heavily tied to indigenous cultures (and therefor divergent from Tricolor Court aesthetics), they belong to ruling houses modeled on the Hegemonic standard, and are all vassals of the emperor in Godtomb.

Slightly finer categories:

There are Throne Houses which are not themselves Imperial houses, but are in the employ of Imperial houses. Many of the Thrones produced by these families are more or less born and bred for the military. Prominent members of such Houses (need to come up with a name for these...) often marry into Ruling Houses, although rarely TRICOLOR Houses, since they lack the clout to be competitive in that marriage arena.

There are Sansin Thrones. Sansin are an all-male order of magnyd (essentially the same type of being as Unbodied) that staff the Bibat Temples (of the Jacantese State Religion, they make and manage other sorts of Dangyds.) I will elaborate on Sansin later this post has gotten long but theyre just monks. Its an all-male social caste of monks that grow new members in little jars and sometimes they make their own versions of Headless and assemble their own version of Thrones. These Thrones are smaller, usually bipedal, and always sexless.

Other things to know:

Due to the biological reality of thrones there are headless which are born outside of major Houses. The vast majority of Throne-children are Unbodied (the sort which more or less exactly resemble ordinary humans), and those Unbodied inevitably leak out into the general populous. All Unbodied are capable of parenting a child which is Headless (the lower half of the throne). Headless born outside of major Houses will inevitably be snapped up when discovered. Even prior to the existence of Thrones, Houses can be propagated just as well by apprenticeship.

Not all imperial Thrones are lazy figureheads! Just the majority of them. Some Thrones belong to a guild which is basically Throne Interpol, going around and keeping despotism in check. What happens when one of those guys is corrupt? Don't be silly that doesn't happen and isn't a problem (it is.)

It's more common for Thrones to be generals when in military positions. Thrones tend to be high ranking wherever in whatever employ, not really because they're uniquely qualified, simply because they're Thrones. Many of them have fairly insufferable personalities on account of being treated like they shit gold their entire lives. They're not inherently *bad people*, but they're almost exclusively coddled, spoiled, deeply entitled, and profoundly disconnected people. This is isn't true for every single throne, just like, a solid 99% of them.

[strangersteddierthings]

No Regrets - Part Two

TW: OC Character Death (dude doesn't even get a name). Steve reflects on killing both demo-creatures and humans with detachment. Mentions of Major Character Deaths but as a reminder, they don't stay dead! (Well, Chrissy and Fred do)

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Maybe he should feel bad about watching Robin grow smaller in the rear-view mirror, her face a mixture of disbelief and anger. Maybe he should feel regret for his actions, for the betrayal Robin probably feels right now.

He doesn't.

Looking at the bigger picture, at the regrets he actually does have in the waking world, this is small potatoes. A non-issue. Robin will forgive him in the end.

War Zone is like a ghost town compared to the first time Steve was here. Though, that should have been expected. The panic hasn't swept through town yet. So far, it's just one dead girl. Fred'll join her sometime this afternoon. Evening? Sometime later today.

Nineteen-year-old Steve would hate himself for not trying to help. For not doing his best to save Fred.

But.

Well, Fred dying will help Dustin, in the long run. Will help Eddie. And that's more important. That's the goal. The dream, if he's allowing himself to be cheeky in his own mind.

Steve's not heartless, or anything like that. Robin, his Robin in the waking world, still calls him a softy and worries his kindness will get him killed on the daily. He always puts the safety of the group above himself. The first to volunteer on supply runs or for scouting or taking watch through the night. He knows he can run on empty for much longer than anyone else he knows.

The end of the world has a way of skewing what kindness and softness are, though. Those first few months were the hardest. Steve wanted to save everyone they came across. Help as many people as possible, but rations run dangerously low that way. Clean water can become contaminated quickly by ignorant people. Not everyone handled the apocalypse with grace.

The first harsh lesson Steve had learned was two months into the end of the world. They'd ventured to Indy to find supplies. Medicines. Try and stock up on things they didn't need yet but wanted around for the just in case of it all. They'd found some survivors, which wasn't surprising in itself. The surprising bit was that these guys had made it on complete luck it seemed. They were loud. Jumpy. Panicky.

When Lucas and Mike, on scout duty, had reported back demogorgon activities nearby, one guy started to panic. Got loud and couldn't bring himself back down. Steve was closest, tried to shush him but he wouldn't be quiet.

"Move," Murray (may he rest in peace) whispered, seeming to have appeared from nowhere, shoving Steve away, nudging him out of the way. Murray stepped behind the guy, one hand covering his nose and mouth, the other arm around his neck. It made the guy panic more, fighting Murray and then Murray just-

Steve remembers he flinched at the noise, turning away to cover his mouth and calm his own panic. The noises stopped though. Steve had shot a horrified look to Hopper, but Hopper wasn't looking at Steve. He was looking beyond, at Murray and what he'd done, nodding his approval.

The demogorgons didn't find them that day.

"You can't help everyone, Steve," Murray said, once they'd started the trek back to Hawkins. "The safety of the group comes first, over just one person."

Lesson heard. Lesson learned. Lesson put to use four months later.

So. Fred must die, for the good of the group. Patrick, too, if Steve can't get to Vecna in time. He should be able to. Vecna will try and take Max first, tomorrow. Patrick the day after. If everything stays the same.

The clerk doesn't even blink at what Steve buys, or the quantity of what he buys, but his eyebrows do go up a little at the total.

Steve hesitates just a bit over the checkbook his parents gave him the first time they'd left him home alone at fourteen. For emergencies only, Steven. It's been sitting in his glove box, unused, since he turned sixteen. He's never wanted to have to explain what he'd used it for. Nothing had ever seemed like enough of an emergency to warrant explaining it to Richard Harrington.

He does find it a little odd that his mind is conjuring up the concept of money. Of all the little things to think about while he sleeps, he really didn't think his subconscious would bring capitalism back.

Steve rips the little check out of the booklet and hands it over. The clerk looks it over before giving a nod and finishing the cash out. Steve takes the receipt when it's offered, shoving it into the checkbook before shoving that into his back pocket.

The parking lot has one other person in it, who Steve is aware of the entire time he's loading the trunk of his car with gallons of lighter fluid, weapons, and padded camouflage. It's only after Steve's slammed the trunk closed and shoved the cart back towards the front of the store that the guy watching him speaks.

"Must be some bonfire you're planning."

Steve rounds his car and opens the door before answering. "It's spring break, man." He slides in, the door falling closed after him. He buckles up, starts the car, and heads home. The house will be empty, he knows.

He works in silence, unloading the car and organizing his haul in the dining room, eyes flicking to the clock. There's still a couple of hours before dark. Before he should go check if Eddie's still in the boathouse, or if the police did go find him.

He sets the timer on the stove for an hour and flops onto his couch and sighs. Just as comfy as he remembers. He can have a nap before making sure Eddie's in jail. Surely his dream will allow him that?

-

"Mmhm," Steve mumbles as his neck protests movement. He's slow to wake. His head feels like white noise. He thinks he was dreaming but he can't quite grasp at what it was... oh. Family Video and War Zone. Reliving a memory. He wonders if Robin is still mad at him for that day, ditching her with Dustin and Max. It'd been for a good reason and- Steve wrinkles his nose as he sits up, head still static-y. Was it for a good reason? He can't remember what else happened after that....

"He rises," Robin whispers next to him, spooking him. She comes into focus as he sits up straight, leaning out of her space to look at her. She gives him a smile, judging by the crinkle around her eyes and her cheeks rounding. The gas mask prevents him seeing her real smile and he misses it. He thinks about his dream, and getting to see all of Robin's face again.

Dreaming is bittersweet.

"I miss anything?" He asks, because it's a safe question.

"Scouts radioed. The way should be clear in another," Robin grabs his wrist and twists so she can see the time on his watch, "another twenty minutes or so."

The mention of the radio makes him think of Dustin, and how much he misses him. And thinking of Dustin makes him think of Eddie. Steve knows it's irrational for him to miss someone he never knew but that doesn't stop the ache. The almost of it all sits heavy in his chest.

"Right," Steve says. "Want to see how many rounds of Rock, Paper, Scissors we can get through in twenty minutes?"

Robin shuffles sideways to be facing him and holds her hands up. "You always lose but okay."

They get about twelve rounds into it before Steve finds himself asking, "Hey Robbie. Do you remember Spring Break?"

Her hands freeze in the air, an aborted motion to make paper to beat Steve's rock. She locks eyes with him for a moment and he can see the worry there. "I- Steve. Is it- did you take a hit? Is it your head? Should I not have let you nap?"

No. No, he doesn't think he got hurt on this run. Well, his shoulder hurts from when he stumbled and slammed into wall during the last loading of the truck, but he hadn't hit his head. He thinks. "I don't know... I hit the wall hard, shoulder hurts, but I didn't hit my head. I don't remember hitting my head."

Robin stands immediately and begins jabbing her fingers around his skull. "Anything tender?"

"Nope. Just a messed up hairdo," Steve swats her hands away.

"Well, you can never be too sure. You are precious cargo. Why did you ask about the start of the apocalypse?"

Steve shrugs. What can he say? That he's forgetting the start of all their horrors? He can't say that, not without coming across like he's either crazy or bragging. Remember the week that ruined our lives and gave us all enough trauma to fill an ocean? Yeah, well, I don't so ha!

He can't be sure but he thinks Robin frowns beneath her mask. "We'll have to have someone look you over when we get back. Steve, if you're losing your memories..."

"I'm not losing memories," Steve lies. Head trauma is serious and he knows he can't take one more hit to the head. He won't be able to continue helping with supply runs or patrols if he is getting worse. If he starts getting migraines, they'll reassign him for sure. Something that doesn't let him leave the safety of their home base at the high school.

"Steve," she warns. He knows it's a warning.

He shakes his head. "I just. I had a dream about Saturday. Very vivid. Just made me think about it, is all."

Robin softens, sinking back down to sit beside him. She finally answers, "yeah. I remember Spring Break."

"I miss everyone," he confesses, because it's true. Because it's safe.

"Me too," Robin says, leaning her mask against his.

They wait in silence until the scouts call the all clear and they can head back home.

They make it back to Hawkins before night falls but just barely. The gates get rolled shut behind them and the unpacking gets started. The whole community has gathered for their return. This is their longest run to date with how far they had to go this time and Steve doesn't blame anyone for needing to see their loved ones as soon as possible.

"Robin!"

Steve turns just in time to watch Vickie launch herself at Robin. Robin must have seen her running, though, because she's already braced for impact and catches Vickie easily, arms grabbing at Vickie's thighs to support her weight as she wraps them around Robin's waist. Vickie places her forehead to Robin's as their excitement switches to tenderness and Steve averts his eyes to give them privacy in this moment.

"Steve, here," Ted Wheeler offers up a box to Steve, who takes it without question. "For the Daycare."

"You got it."

The Daycare is actually a wing of the school that used to be where the language arts classes were held. Daycare doesn't quite sum up what they use the area for, but calling it the Orphanage was too dark. Steve waits through the decontamination process. Once through, he takes the time to pull his mask off and enjoy the feeling of an artificial breeze on his face before heading to the Daycare.

"Please tell me there's something useful in that box," Annie Click says when Steve pushes his way into one of the rooms they use for school. Another room is dedicated to being a daycare, kids too little for learning, another is schooling for kids who would be in middle school, and the last room is lines with beds.

"Sorry, Mrs. Click, but I didn't pack it," Steve says apologetically.

"My problem to sort out then," she stands and Steve can see the determination in her through the weariness. She'd been a bitter old lady as his teacher but the world ending must have shifted her priorities. There's no one better suited to look after the kids than her, here.

Except maybe Joyce, but she's got bigger things to deal with.

He heads for the door when Annie calls out to him, "Since you're here, would you mind checking on the kids for me? Holly's supervising bedtime but she's lenient with her friends."

"Will do."

He heads across the hall and down a door to the sleeping room. The lights are dimmed and peeking in he sees a lot of kids sleeping, or pretending their best to be. Holly is sitting in a rolling chair near the door, one leg bend and pulled up on the seat as she rests her head on it.

Steve clears his throat to get her attention. She must have heard his footsteps because she doesn't spook. Just uses the foot on the ground to spin the chair to face the door. "Oh. Hi Steve."

"All good here?" He whispers.

"Yeah. Everyone's asleep."

"You can probably head home now. Your dad's back."

Holly shrugs one shoulder at him, spinning the chair back away. "Maybe later."

Steve takes the hint and backs away. His chest aches for Holly. All the kids had to grow up fast, given the state of the world, but Holly's hurts him most. He knew her in the Before, and she was there when Karen... Well, she's got a lot of weight on her shoulders at barely eleven years old.

To think. If they'd have been faster on that Spring Break. More diligent, thorough. Holly might have never known about the Upside Down at all.

More regret he can carry, he thinks, as he shoves his mask back on and heads back to the truck. There's more to be unloaded, and always work around to keep him so busy he doesn't have to think of the regrets.

He works so late into the night that once he gets back to his cot and collapses into it, there are no thoughts let in his mind as sleep claims him.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @music9009 @apomaro-mellow @soaringornithopter @reighnofdreams @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @sirsnacksalot @livelifeliketheresnotomorow @sageclipse @schnukiputz @mbloggotdeletedsothisismybackup @lumoschildextra @juleswashere3 @yet-still-more-banched @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @yearningagain @starlight-archer @andrew-mini-ard @chaosgremlinmunson @aol19 @goodolefashionedloverboi @gutterflower77 @moomkin77

[nightowl33art]

How To Make A Toxicsona- A Master Post!

!This page may update over time! So I was looking at my inbox and noticed I got sent an ask. Likely due to site bugs, I was not able to answer directly, but I'm sure the asker will be able to see this post.

Hello Anon! Firstly, thanks for the fun ask! Keep in mind this post will apply to most toxicsonas. I'll be using my own designs and process as examples. What I recommend does NOT have to be followed. In the end it's your design and it should be for fun most of all. I'm just presenting what the "ideal and average Phisnom toxicsona/toxic blob oc" should have.

For those tuning into this lengthy post with no idea what I'm on about, I'll be excerpting the toxicsona submission form Phisnom/Phil made for his toxicsona review streams. (Phil being the leader of the Toxic Cesspit community.)

(Despite "sona" being in the name, a toxicsona does NOT have to be representative of you! Toxicsonas can also be regular ocs!) Now to the advice!

1. READ UP!

Read the Toxicsonas For Dummies character guide! This image contains all the basic lore and traits for toxicsonas! What I say going forward may reference it. (Reading may also give you some fun ideas!)

You should also peep this from the toxicsona submission form:

In order to have a toxicsona you need* a:

Dark body for a base with accents (ie lines) that must be neon/brightly colored.

Mouth(s) with sharp teeth. Ideally will have at least one extra mouth somewhere on the form.

Unique pattern image for the body.

*You may not need it but it's more or less what makes a toxicsona a toxicsona. I'll be going over each point in detail later!

2. Purpose

What purpose will your blob fill? Are you creating an oc, a sona for yourself, or something else? This will affect what you create and how. If you have a preexisting design/sona you want to toss into the slime, reference off that design! Use what you know about that character/person to create this new form!

Starting from scratch? What I do is come up with a basic idea to concept off of! Think of something you want to design! If you need help, try using one of the countless idea generators out there or put your head together with others and see what you come up with! Moodboards, playlists, and Pinterest albums also serve well! Whatever type of brainstorming gets your inspiration bug flying, go for it!

Regardless, one thing to make note of is who was this design in life? Most blobs were once living beings. They all come from a liquid superorganism called The Substance. When a living being with a consciousness foreign to the slime (like a person) is absorbed into The Substance, it'll be spit out and reanimated anew if it has a strong will. Your blob must've been alive or had a connection to living things. Then it must have undergone some sort of transformation after making contact with The Substance. Asking who your blob was before the slime will be very helpful!

3. Body

You likely either have an idea of what your design will be, or you're jumping headfirst into the doing part. Either is okay! Everyone's process is different. If your design is based off a preexisting one, you're likely to make the new form into a similar shape. Some things to think about when coming up with a body:

A slime body is meant to reflect the ideal self. What are your toxicsona's ideal traits? If you're making a sona, what are YOUR ideal traits?

What were they when alive? Were they a feral stray cat? A human? You may want to stick to a shape that resembles their former appearance, especially if they are in denial of being a slime.

Who were they when alive? Did they like a certain animal a lot? Give them physical traits of said animal! Maybe your toxicsona wanted freedom, so they develop the wings they always envisioned. Maybe they believe they were a terrible person and so deserve the devil horns on their head. Were they two-faced? Give them two faces!

Is this the only form they have? Do I want to add a simplified blob form? Do I want to make a bigger/smaller form? If my character has an alter ego disguise, should I make a form for it?

(Most toxicsonas have a simplified little blob form, reflecting what they looked like at default after The Substance. They're super cute and puntable!)

How much mass do they have? The more mass a blob has, the more they have to work with physically, the more developed they are. What appendages have they formed with this mass? Many toxicsonas lack legs, including Phi himself, who is simply too lazy to use legs. Why your blob does/doesn't have legs can have a reason too!

What colors are they? Common dark colors for the majority of the body include black, gray, and dark shades of any given color (ex dark blue.) The neon can be just about any color! If the design is a sona, pick your favorite color(s)! Keep the color vibrant- it's supposed to stand out from the dark color! Your slime will always be surrounded by a dark/black outline around the very edge.

Where's the extra mouth(s)? The best designs have a mouth placed with thought, but not all are. Thoughtfully placed mouths have significance to the toxicsona. Scars/important wounds on their living body can become mouths. Perhaps if they were a gluttonous or starved person, you'll put a mouth on their belly to represent their hunger. If they're anxious about their mouth or general appearance, maybe it's hidden. (Ideally let the mouth be visible. It's visually appealing.)

(Dutch's extra mouth is on his back. Wings were always a big part of him, both appearance and story-wise, so the mouth emphasizes that. His wings come out of the mouth like tongues!)

Being a cartoonist, we're personally big on shape language and like to have designs with strong, recognizable silhouettes, but you do not have to do this.

Some advice on basics for drawing your slime!

Here's how I create the lineart, clothing coloring, and the outline that surrounds the blobs. (Some steps may be done at the same time or skipped entirely. This is the Nightowl 33 method so your mileage may vary.)

Draw lineart.

Alpha lock lineart layer. Recolor it to neon color.

Clip new layer on lineart. Color clothes black.

New layer for body color.

Move body color layer under lineart.

Color body colors. (I clip different clothing coloring layers on the main color layer. This main base color layer gets colored black when ready.)

Make a folder. Place all lineart, lineart coloring, and all body coloring layers in the folder.

Add a dark color outline in a layer beneath the folder. (I use the "stroke (outer)" tool in my art program, ibisPaint X.)

How I draw eyes!

Draw eye lineart.

New layer, clip on lineart layer, draw dark circle.

Layer sclera coloring under lineart layer.

Add pupil layer below lineart layer and above sclera layer.

(Coloration used to show different steps/parts of the eye!)

(Without the weird example coloring, your end result should look like this!)

4. Pattern

Much like how everyone has their own unique fingerprint, every toxicsona with a well defined identity develops their own unique pattern. Coming up with the right pattern is tricky! Patterns are made up of symbols, lines, or a combination of. They have a rhyme and reason to them. A pattern to the pattern, so to speak.

(Here's a bunch of example patterns, created by me (sometimes with the help of CrystalKleure), or Phil and StupidButterfly. Stare at them for a while and take some notes on what rhythms you recognize.)

For maximum appeal, your pattern cannot be too complex or simple! Try to select 2-4 symbols/lines to create your pattern. These symbols/lines should be thematically relevant to your blob. Ex: A spiderweb pattern for spider-themed toxicsonas, checker pattern for a blob that likes checkers/chess, a UFO for an alien slime, eyes for an angel slime or a slime that loves/fears being watched! (You may also want to reference off the emotion patterns if your blob is heavily associated with an emotion. Ex: sparkles for a very happy/excited slime!)

Feel free to pick basic shapes, like triangles and circles, for one or more symbols.

Create a few variants of your chosen symbols. Draw them big, medium, and small. Fill some of them, leave others empty/"hollow."

Patterns are seamless! This means when you apply a pattern to your toxicsona's clothing or body, it must be able to consistently loop! While you may wing it, below is a handy lifehack to easily make a seamless tiling pattern by @crystalkleure !

1. Draw a base design 2. Split that design in half, and arrange the two halves like this. [You might want to use guide lines/a guide grid to make sure the pixels line up in such a way that these two halves will stitch back together correctly, so they'd make clones of the base image again if you were to tile sets of these halves horizontally.] 3. Stitch the two halves together by adding more to the design 4. Split the image again like you did in step 2, except this time split the top and bottom apart instead of the sides. 5. Add more stuff to the design again, in any way that crosses the "seam" made by step 4 [where the top of the bottom half meets the bottom of the top half]. And if you lined up the pixels correctly while you were splitting and rearranging the chunks, you now have an image that tiles seamlessly both horizontally and vertically. The trick is just splitting an image into halves, swapping those halves' places, and then adding more to the image to hide the seam made by splitting and rearranging parts of it like that. Do it with the sides and you get a horizontally-tiling image, do it with the top and the bottom and you get a vertically-tiling image, do it with both the sides and the top + bottom and you get an image that tiles in all four directions.

Here's a speedpaint where I make a pattern using this method! While creating, double checking that your pattern looks good when looped is important! Don't forget to experiment with placements!

(Wow! What a cool pattern!)

Your pattern doesn't have to be insanely unique, hell you don't even HAVE to have one, but it's honestly better if you come up with one. There's no reason NOT to have a pattern unless it's for lore reasons, such as a confused identity or a mimic character. (Do NOT copy others' patterns and make them your own, especially without permission!)

(Phee, Pho, and Phum have the same default pattern as Phi because they're copycat scammers! They try to convince others they're related to Phi to get what they want.)

Gradient and pattern application!

Now you may want to give your slime a gradient! Gradients tend to appear on the lower halves of blobs but can be placed anywhere! Below is a guide to show how I apply the pattern and gradients to the body! While defaults apply to many toxicsonas, like Phi, they do not have to be followed.

Clip pattern layer over body color layer. (Pattern transparency default is 47%.)

New layer (add mode), place under pattern, clip over body color layer. Draw gradient. (Gradient transparency default is 40%.)

Alpha lock the pattern layer.

Airbrush the upper half pattern layer with the dark body color.

The pattern is often the same color as the neon lineart, while the gradient is often a darker version of the color.

(Weird bright green coloration used to emphasize the layers clipped onto it.)

(The finished gradient, sans weird example coloring, looks just like Phi's!)

Here's how to apply a pattern to clothing! Create a new layer with the pattern. Clip it to your base. (Pattern layers on clothes are usually somewhat transparent. The default is 65% but you can deviate.)

5. Outfit

Clothing is a HUGE self expression that extends to the world of toxicsonas! Blobs can harden mass they acquire, turning it into wearable cartilage clothing! Below are some tips but the bottom line is DESIGN WHAT YOU WANT.

Who they were before the slime often heavily influences their outfit(s). Ex, if your blob was a clown when alive, they may dress the same as a slime.

You'll often find the body pattern on the clothes, but you don't have to do this.

A popular addition to blob fashion is caution/hazard tape! While often black and yellow, feel free to deviate the colors.

(A bunch of fashionable slime outfits with caution tape themes that I made or had a hand in making!)

Phil does not like hoodies on toxicsonas but you can totally join the #hoodiesweep nation. (It would be super funny.) That aside, many do put their blobs in hoodies, so avoiding a standard hoodie is preferable if you want to make a super unique design.

You don't have to give your blob any clothes, especially if they're non-humanoid. Accessories are still recommended to personalize your design and make it stand out from an average ...whatever it is.

Unlike the rest of the slime body that has colored lineart, clothing almost ALWAYS has black/dark color lineart.

Any slime overlapping atop non-slime materials requires a black outline, including over clothing.

(While the consistency of this rule varies with established toxicsona art (ie Phi), I personally try to apply it as much as possible, even when slime overlaps slime. It makes things look nicer and allows the neon lines to stand out more. It's also easier to make out what's going on when looked at.)

Misc. tips!

Bananas are the main unit of measurement in the cesspit! Giving your blob a height can help people draw them to scale, especially when drawn next to other blobs! To get the accurate height: 1. Conjure a length of your choice. 2. Convert your length to inches (in). 3. Divide the inches by 7. (Because 7 inches is the average length of a grocery store banana.) 4. Congrats! You have banana height! Now you can also reverse the order and get standard heights!

Too gay or lazy to do math? Click here for faster conversion! http://bananaforscale.info/#!/ (Note the results will be slightly shorter than my method above but the measurements are about the same so who really cares about that.)

Come up with a backstory for your toxicsona! If you haven't already made one during the design process, you may want to now! -Consider what life was like before they came in contact with The Substance. How did they feel about their old life? -How did they come in contact with The Substance? (Preferably avoid the basic backstory of accidentally falling into a vat. It's overdone, mainly due to how vague lore was before the toxicsona review streams. I'd suggest letting Phi lure them into the slime or tossing them in, if you want something traditional. Phi's goal is to make a blob army, after all.) -What is their life like now, post-Substance? How do they feel about their new life?

(Canon backstory comic on how Phee, Pho, and Phum became blobs!)

Feeling social? Working with other cesspit members (or your own ocs), you can develop links between your toxicsonas! Make your friend's blob their friend! Or maybe enemy! Why not ship them? GO NUTS????

(Phee is a massive flirt in the cesspit. Mr. Sex/Noctus belongs to @corovusin !)

-Consider how your blob may feel about others. Are they a social butterfly or a shut in? Who do they like? Who would they rather avoid? -What are their thoughts on Phi, the leader? (Generally avoid giving them a super strong, personal bond with Phi, such as relatives, best friends, or close partners of any kind. Phi does not have a family and she's a total bitch to just about everyone!) -Phil says there's no love in the cesspit but he's literally just a hater. Make your ocs gay kiss!!

Feel like cooking a little more? Why not design a pre-slime form if it doesn't already exist?

(Phee and Phum before their fatal scam attempt on Phi.)

Many cesspit users also create a "living disguise" form for their toxicsonas, so the slimes can wander among others without rousing suspicion! Blobs have the ability to learn to shapeshift. It's a skill that must be mastered with experience and time, so disguise forms often have "flaws" that give away an inhuman quality, like extra mouths, eyes, patterns, or gradients on their skin.

(Dutch is very good at shapeshifting, so his disguise lacks most flaws. The flaws that are there are mostly intentional, since he's proud of his slime qualities. A blob who perfects the skill of shifting can look like an ordinary human, but where's the fun in that?)

Most toxicsonas can change color based on emotion. (They may also change based on other factors so feel free to get creative with it.) -As a slime has a base pattern and color of choice, these will change based on their mood and that mood's assigned color! Many toxicsonas share patterns and colors with Phi (like red and triangle pattern for mad, blue and flowered squiggles for sad, etc.) but this is not a rule. You can assign any color to any mood. You are not limited to Phi's emotion set either! You can even make your own patterns for your blob's moods if you feel like it! -Some color changes are very subtle in some slimes! Is this true for yours? -Modifying the design of your blob to match their mood is a fun way to create expressive and interesting variants!

(Dutch's hair, horn shape, halo, face, and hands can change with his mood! He has an array of emotional patterns, both preset and custom-made, to match the different colors/moods.)

(When Goober was alive, they had DID. Mimicking the behavior of their former life, the three alters, Ziggy, Skrunk, and Wumbus, became separate blobs. They still need to work together to function properly. They combine to bodily become "Goober." Goober's left eye functions as a collective eye, while their right eyes that can emote separately reflect their respective alter.)

(Goober's default color is green, indicating all alters are co-fronting. When there is a primary fronter or two, the upper body color changes to match!)

Design a shell for your toxicsona! Shells are foreign objects blobs use, often to live, sleep, or hide in. Shells are protective. ANYTHING can be a shell. Not all toxicsonas need one, but those that do often have a thematic shell that relates to who they are. (Ex: Phi-barrel, Bucket-bucket, Collette-chocolate box.)

(Thanks to his angelic theming, Dutch's shell is a reliquary- a display container for holy relics, often being remnants of holy figures. Goober's shell of choice is a mini UFO!)

Stuck? Want to grow your design with less work? Collaborate with others or take their advice if you like what they give you. Ask people what they'd change about your design!

You should NOT be designing just for the approval of Phisnom, You should design for YOURSELF (or whoever is paying you- I see you, adopt/custom ppl.) He's just another person out there. Yes, a creator of the species, but he does not have to dictate your choices or give your design an S tier ranking just to validate it. The satisfaction should come from inside, not outside.

Hope these tips help, best of luck creating your own toxicsona, and feel free to ask any additional questions regarding this! ✌️

[kokushibosbestie]

Meet タチマリ・ヤスオ, Tengen's Son ☁︎

A/N: I LOVE YASUO SO MUCH ALREADY IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY. But seriously, this oc is everything I wish I could be. This is an oc that was solely created to be an s/o for @matthew-knyshait's oc, but I've grown so attached. `(*>﹏<*)′

• Full name: Yasuo Tachimari / タチマリ・ヤスオ • Gender Identity: Cis male, femboy ? - Pronouns: He / Him • Romantic Preferences / Sexuality: Gay / Homosexual - Ship / Romantic Interest: Maitsu Gahamoki (@matthew-knyshait's oc) - Species: Human • Birthday: December 14 - Zodiac Sign: Capricorn -------------------- • Age: 14 y/o -------------------- • Personality Traits: Understanding // Kind // Loving // Cheerful // Lovable // Caring // Extrovert // Tanjiro Type (reference to S.4) -------------------- • Appearance: Darkly colored skin, four pupils with two in each eye, light blue hair, painted nails - Hight: 5'2" - Weight: 124 lbs. (56.2455 kgs) - Body Type: short, small -------------------- • Hair Color: Light blue || #ace4fa - Hair Length: Short, side swept - Hair Condition: Sharp looking, soft -------------------- • Ocular Color ( Eye Hue ): Light pink || #FFB6C1 || Brown || #300418 -------------------- • Usual Style / Outfit: Work - Demon Slayer Uniform // An altered white male uniform top, dark bluish-purple puffy shorts + large bow tied in back + beltish thing around hips || dark blush-purple sailor style scarf with yellow tied bow + golden purple gem earrings + bow hachimaki headpiece + tan boots with white lacing || Haori is placed over shoulders and has two layers consisting of the top layer, a large dark bluish-purple drape with golden accents that falls just to the upper calf in back but only to the upper thighs in front + the lower drape, a smaller grey drape with Japanese Text in gold accents all over it • Ranking: Kinoe - Breathing Style: Cloud Breathing -------------------- • Activity / Hobbies: Doing really anything with Maitsu involved. Hanging out with his stepmothers, Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma. Ex: Letting Suma do different hairstyles and makeup looks on him / Making food with Hina / Training with Makio. - Pet(s): Kasugai crow named "Yaoi" • Extra Information: He was adopted by Tengen before S.2.

Official Appearance:

Taisho Era Secret: Yasuo used to have a crush on Muichiro because Tengen introduced Yasuo to all the Hashira. Though, Muichiro never showed much interest in being Yasuo's friend, so he naturally stopped liking him.

BONUS: Yasuo is cis male, but does like girly things and is currently trying to grow out his hair. Tengen doesn't know this yet, but Makio does. (I'll explain how this happens later on!)

AHHHHHHHHHH @matthew-knyshait I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! LET ME KNOW HOW YOU LIKE HIMM!!!! <3333

@ayunakatsukiwolfhashira @stellapuffs @kitkat-moon @mitsuriswingwoman @giyuus-little-helper @giyuuswifey @larz-barz This is NOT proofread, please forgive any grammatical errors I may have. DISCLAIMER: NONE OF THE ART / PICTURES USED ARE MINE. ALL CREDITS GO TO RIGHTFUL OWNERS.

[turbulentscrawl]

very curious abt your oc 👀...

The time is now... To preface, I made this character back in December, before Faro Lady was even teased, and I'm not willing to change Evelye's name...but for the sake of sparing confusion, I'll call her Evie most of the time.

(I'm also going to start posting some of the blurbs I've written about Evie and Luchino later.)

Warnings for canon-typical violence, cannibalism, and one mention of sex.

Evelyne Bailey, The Butcher

Age: 29 Nationality: American Likes: cicadas, needlework Dislikes: winter, mystery meat, teeth Talents: cooking, cleaning, trapping wild game Favorite Dish: Fried Okra

Test Indicators:

Selective Food Intolerance

Delusional Paranoia

emotionally starved

She is from America in Appalachia, and her backstory is loosely inspired by the Beast in the Cave.

Evelyne was an only child and her folks ran a little ranch/butchery kitchen in a small mountain town. They were sweet, generous people… Then somewhere in her youth, they made "friends" with strangers who lived further into the mountain range, and in time began killing travelers who passed through town, even going so far as to butcher, and eat them. Evelyne was young enough to not fully grasp what they were doing, and by the time she did, she felt it was too late for her to stop going along with it. Her parents grew to be dark and twisted people, and she took up running the store front due to how horrifying they'd become in appearance and behavior. As she grew older, she helped lure male travelers home for this process.

External Traits

TIDY UP

The Butcher knows how to clean up a mess. The trail left by the Butcher disappears 1.5 seconds faster. After taking damage, she leaves no trail at all for 3 seconds.

BREAD CRUMBS?

The Butcher has a bag of Remains and can use them to mislead a hunter by creating a fake trail for them to follow. At the start of a match she has enough Remains to leave a trail up to 30 meters long. This trail can persist up to 30 seconds and only one trail can exist at a time. Additionally, a new trail will activate the Hunter's tinnitus for the first five seconds after being placed. This ability can be recharged by healing teammates. Each time The Butcher heals one instance of damage, she recovers enough Remains for 10 meters of trail.

STERILIZED

Survivors healed by the Butcher have been thoroughly cleaned and leave no trail for 10 seconds.

HEMOPHOBIA

The sight of a bleeding human makes the Butcher uneasy. She heals allies 10% slower.

PERSONALITY/GENERAL HCS

Evie’s experience running a store front has made her a decent actress. She has above-average persuasion skills and can maintain a friendly facade during small talk. She flounders with deeper conversation, however, and has a tendency to shut down when asked about her pre-Europe past.

Evie’s living situation for the last few years back in Appalachia has made her paranoid of people. She believes that, since her own parents turned on her, everyone else is capable of it as well. Additionally, she’s afraid that people will try to slip her human meat for consumption without her knowledge. Evie is functionally a pescatarian; she will not eat non-fish meat that she did not hunt, butcher, and prepare herself from start to finish. (Beyond this, however, she is not a picky eater.)

Evie refuses to talk about her years in Appalachia. She’s convinced that if people knew what she did, everyone would turn on her and the manor would become her eternal hell. On some level, she thinks she’s a monster deserving of that fate. But her fear is too strong for her to test the waters.

Her paranoia has also made her very aware of physical body language. She’s only average at analyzing people’s words, but she was so used to watching her parents for signs they may attack her again, that she’s excellent at spotting tension, fear, and anger in others. She has also memorized the sounds of every hunter’s and survivor’s footsteps to identify them at a distance. Anyone familiar with paranoid behaviour will notice that she has a tendency to periodically slow down or pause completely during any noise-making activity and listen. When footsteps can be heard, she stops to identify who it is, and only resumes working when she’s determined it’s someone she trusts, or when they’ve passed.

Evie also suffers from nightmares and sudden bouts of extreme nausea.

While friendly at face-value, Evie is paranoid and distrusting of people. At the end of the day, she puts her own security and safety above anyone else's. She avoids standing within arms reach of people, and jerks away if someone leans close, as a reflex to avoid being bitten.

Her pain tolerance is a bit higher than average. Which is fortunate, because she's slightly resistance to pain-relieving medications. She's also somewhat resistant to anesthetics.

She's most comfortable with the Arms Factory and Dark Woods maps, as the taller trees and dense forests remind her a bit of home. She occasionally goes out to trap fresh meat from these maps when they're not in use--this has led to some tension with the Gamekeeper....

Evelyn's relationship with Luchino is a bit complicated. In the beginning she's nervous about him. He's polite and kind enough, but he has a quiet masculinity and bodily enhancements that make him a physical threat to her. But he's private and respectful, and Evie is emotionally and physically starved, so the door is first cracked open through casual sex. Over time, the things that first made her scared of him begin to make her feel safer around him. He's observant, and has good intuition, so he's good at anticipating and curbing Evie's paranoia bouts before they get too bad. The situation with Evil Reptilian further complicates things, as it gives Evie a window into the part of Luchino most like her parents. But at the end of the day, he might just be the bridge she needs to accept her own past and what it means for her own identity.

A Snippet of Evelyne's First Match

Evelyne could not hide from this “game” under the covers of her bed, it seemed. Though she had tried very hard to clutch her sheets, had squeezed her eyes shut until they ached, when she opened them again she was standing in an unfamiliar, forgotten church. The scene was dilapidated, dark, and dreary. If there was a sun, it was hidden behind an endless expanse of murky clouds. It was quiet, save the ominous caw of ravens outside.

Though it had taken Evelyne nearly too long to figure out what she was meant to do with a messenger bag filled with remains–bloody rags and scraps of cloth, tiny chunks of cartilage, bone, fresh offal–it was certainly coming in handy for the twists and turns of ruins. They worked well as gruesome “bread crumbs,” spiraling and coiling in confusing patterns around the crumbling ruins of the ominous church to mislead this Hunter into chasing a false injured prey. She had not so much as seen the face of the Hunter yet, but knew he or she was on-and-off her trail by the strange hammering of her heart. Sometimes she seemed to lose them entirely, thanks to those trails, but they were growing closer. Smarter, perhaps, or used to her tricks.

Another gong-like sound echoed in the distance. That was the second ‘cipher,’ she believed, which left three more to go. That seemed like too long.

Evelyne paused next to a set of lockers to catch her breath. The crackly voices of her ‘teammates’ sounded off in her earpiece with their decoding progress. For a moment, her fear seemed to ebb and Evelyne thought she might finally be in the clear.

A wave of fog suddenly surged over a wall and towards her, and before she could even wonder where it had come from, the Seer’s owl dropped down from the sky in front of her. It cut through the fog with wings like blades, and then surged off again with a screech, leaving Evelyne frozen and confused. All at once, she was hit with the feeling that she was in greater danger, that her enemy had just gotten stronger somehow, and that she was being watched.

A chill ran up her spine just before the wall across from her came crashing down.

Evelyne briefly took in a gangly man with a top had and a hand of long razors climbing over the rubble–giggling–before she took off in a sprint through the maze. Another rush of fog surged after her, and her feet kicked up dirt and dust with her skidding attempts to dodge. When it flew past, she swore it felt like someone had grazed her with a knife. As she doubled-back around a sharp bend, she heard a sickeningly sweet voice calling from beyond the walls.

“How tasteless of you,” the unsettling man said with raised volume. “Leaving me only stale, rotting scraps about when your fresh meat is so close at hand!” She felt eyes on her back again, but couldn't place from where. Another gong, but this time the sound covered the one of another crumbling wall.

It collapsed on top of her, and Evelyne dropped under the crushing weight with a cry of pain. Some of the rubble had cracked against her skull and now the dreary world was spinning and pulsing. The gangly, too-tall, top-hatted man stands over her, wiggling his knife fingers like he’s waving hello. The blades were almost as long as her arms; he had to stand at least 7 feet.

“Finally I get to meet you face to face,” he says. “You can call me Jack, my lady.” Jack the Ripper, she briefly recalled of the Seer’s lessons. A real, bonafide serial killer. If she had the energy, she would have spit in his face.

Jack bent down and plucked Evelyne from the rubble with one hand, lifting her like a weightless ragdoll and holding her in his arms. Though dazed, sore, and confused, she had sense enough to struggle in his hold. She squirmed and kicked all the way to the “chair” he would be placing her on, until she suddenly remembered the bag slung across her torso. As a last-ditch effort, Evelyne swung the half-filled thing into Jack’s face, splattering him with the gore he claimed to love so much. He yowled and dropped her.

The fall knocked the wind out of her, but Evelyne scrambled to her feet and ran as fast as she could.

[4belg]

"Remember: The reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, BUY GOLD!"

my interpretations of Bill's design

this will be a post to show designs and my doodles of this yellow triangle, so prepare for a BIG INFO DUMPING

I ended up being inspired by a design from an existing OC of mine called Domingos Ferreira, I thought it would be a good move because I wanted to pull older characteristics + villainous mannerisms.

my babygirl.

The only difference between them are their personality.

I also took the opportunity to add new colors to Bill's look to reference Euclid and Scalene (red and blue) and mathematic/geometric concepts. I recently watched Flatland (1965) because it appeared in my YouTube recommendations and I thought of taking geometric concepts like area² and volume³ as just silly details for them, also, that was the first idea I had when I did the first design of Bill. The short film served more as a trigger in my head to do something.

It's just details for when they're in the background or in three dimensions (pyramid). Another thing I wanted to add is to make half of the character completely empty, without the rest of their body. Just one detail related to the fact that they are not "truly" three-dimensional.

For outfit inspiration, the first thing that came to my mind was: David Bowie. I DON'T KNOW WHY, BUT I USUALLY LIKE TO GET INSPIRATION FROM DAVID FOR CHARACTER OUTFITS, they are very creative and charming, I just can't not use them.

While I was searching for specific inspiration, I came across a look that David Bowie used in the film Labyrinth (1986), playing as the Goblin King, aka Jareth. I didn't think twice and wanted to add here that this would be Bill's main outfit.

Majestic and serving cunt.

I may not have captured all the energy that the reference is, but that's what I wanted to base myself on. Later I can even make sketches purely with this outfit.

I still have other versions for the human Bill that I haven't discarded because I believe they are still great concepts. The good thing is that I can have several versions of the same character and this is one of the reasons why I like the character so much.

I won't lie, my first tests were based on what everyone imagines when talking about the human Bill 😞 IT'S VERY AUTOMATIC, IT BECAME A VISUAL REPRESENTATION.

anyway, I've thought about making an AU about this, but nothing too creative on my part. Someday I'll find something interesting to write about.

hmm that's it 🧍 anything new I'll be posting again

[somethingclevermahogony]

OC Intro: Bop

Hello everyone! The winner of the latest character intro poll was Bop! As Bop is not a mortal their intro is going to be slightly different then most of the other introductions that I have done. The new poll should be up in the next few days!

This is also funnily enough an introduction to Narul's weapon.

(Please excuse any typos, its late and I'm sure I'll find them sooner or later)

Name: Pufut (Translated as "Bop")

Bop has long forgotten their actual name, if they had one at all as many spirits do not, in the past they were referred to as The Ripper of Cedars among other names.

Bop is a name given to the spirit by Narul, as Bop themselves were unsure of what their name actually was. Bop is a reference to the fact that Bop is contained within a hammer (Narul, unfortunately, does not have much experience naming things). To be more accurate, the name given to them by Narul is Pufut, an onomatopoetic Kishite word that refers to the sound of something being gently hit. Translated into English, the closest equivalent is Bop or perhaps Bonk.

Continues Below the Cut!

Family

Unknown

Before his capture Bop was in the company of several other powerful weather spirits, however it is not entirely clear whether they were related.

Homeland/Place of Origin

The Red Cedar Mountains

It seems likely that Bop, as a Great Spirit, formed in the region where they once held dominion. Their age is unclear, well he is certainly at least 2,000 years old, their age could be far far older, likely forming sometime after the Calamity in order to replace the spirits lost at that time, if that is the case then Bop may be over 40,000 years old (This would make him the 4th oldest entity to appear in person in the first book.) Many spirits have, comparatively fleeting memories, forgetting much of their past as the centuries roll past. Additionally being trapped in a hammer for centuries has caused Bop to forget much of their past. Alternatively they may have been brought to Kobani from one of the Spirit Worlds, likely via the will of the Storm God, Kotomah.

Great Spirits

Great Spirits or Mountain Gods are those spirits considered to be exceptionally powerful by humans. In some cases, they may be worshiped as minor deities or protectors of a certain region or geographical feature, often a mountain. Many cities have a Great Spirit which acts as its protector (though it should be noted these protections are against supernatural and climatic events, not political ones, a Mountain God does not care if a regime changes so long as they continue to receive offerings and respect). It is possible that the reason Labisa does not have its own Great Spirit despite being such a large city is that Bop would have filled that role had they not been trapped in the hammer.

Many Great Spirits may loosely serve or act in the name of a Heavenly God, often the patron god of a Kishite or Korithian city for example, based on the deity which the local Mountain God serves. Bop was connected with the storm god Kotomah. After capturing Bop, the Spiritblood Tamel, declared the Goddess Humbalibal, as the city's patron.

In many places across the Green Sea and beyond prayer is directed not at the Heavenly Gods directly, as it is believed that they are too distant and powerful to hear much less care, but rather to spirits which may act as conduits to the Heavenly Gods. In Kishetal it is typical to start a prayer first with a call to the spirits or through a ritual to attract the spirits that are believed to be connected to a certain deity. 

Interestingly, the Deep Sun, as a demon, technically falls into the same categorization as Bop.

History: Two Excerpts From Kishite Literature

"When the first stones of the city of Kings had not been lain When the Golden Trout by wily Seha’s Hand  Was fresh within the net When the first reed for floor was plucked When the first branch for roof had been cut When still wild folk roamed and ruled the cedar hills When blood soaked still the walls of Kur Tamel sent council and gift to the Children of Arkodai for to bless his new kingdom Gifts of copper, pelt, and sweet honey Of cool wine and fiery gem This gifts he sent in the hands of black-haired Uridush Whose beauty mortal and spirit envy The Arkodians took upon themselves the Gifts of Tamel But when time came to bestow upon Uridush a Kingly Gift, a gift of their blessed metals as they had gifted to The Desert King and The Heirs of Neduz They gave to him no spear, nor ax or sword or scepter But only hammer and rope, crude and barbaric Made by no master No spirit dwelt within them “Disgrace upon noble Tamel you Lay!” Cried brave Uridush “He is a king unmatched, his beauty and grace without end And yet upon him you give these meager gifts, which even The most paltry of your noble men would hang their head To carry! The Metal is unpolished, its surface crude! There is no beauty! No mastery!” When Uridush spoke forth in his master’s name The Children of Arkodai fell upon him with pincers of bronze  And took his noble tongue from between his teeth With mouth bloodied and silenced  Uridush returned to just Tamel’s side and presented  These cruel and dishonorable gifts Tamel cried out for his beloved servant and grieved his sweet words With righteous justice a fire in his belly Tamel and his Three Sons Hiru the Broad, Hutbari the Hoopoe Born, and Haman the Thrice Bled Took to the Isle of Olives and in silent night fell upon the Arkodians Their warriors they cut down and laid upon the cold stones 7 Sages they bound in ropes of hemp and bore away 

“You have ripped us from our warm beds where do you take us?” They cried as one in the tongue of the forge masters But from the Masters of the Golden Plain and the Endless Lake They received no answers nor were words spoken No spirit dared come to their call, for they feared the  Wrath of Tamel, whose eyes saw all deception Across the Mumbling Sea to the Realm of the Cedar With Hammer and Rope Tall Tamel and his sons  Brought their loot, through forest and up stony slopes They conquered the Ice Wrapped Mount Where the Lords of the Eastern Shores and the Towering Peaks Dwelt in their Palace of Cloud and Shadow Where Storm Unending Lashed Furiously Upon  Stone and Ice and Flesh And hence with his rope of Western Metal Great and Mighty Tamel the Golden Eyed He of The Dragon Bane, He of the Fire of Kur, He whose rivals live not amongst men with his Three Sons, with the blessing of Humbalibal Resting upon their heads They cast forth into the Black Storm Domain of the Great Spirits Servants of the God of Winds Five there were  She who splits the Oak, He who swallows the Sun She who pulls down the River of the Heavens He Whose Voice Shakes Mountains And The Ripper of Cedars Children of The Howling One all “Take this, the gift of ignoble men! Catch it so That from you I may make a kingdom That will stand tall before the lands Of my lesser kin!” And upon the Ripper of Cedars his rope caught The fury of the storm shook the Columns of Kobani The Winds that Flatten Forest Roared The Ice that Cuts Flesh Descended Upon Them “Father!” His Sons Cried “Father! Through Wool and Linen this Sharp  Wind Cuts!”

Youngest of Sons, Haman fell there His Skin Pierced, His Hands Slickened by Blood From the Mountain he was carried by cruel winds And in the Green Valley He Fell His flesh torn by stone and branch His lifeblood stolen by bird and beast But Grief could not take Tamel And with the might of the Mountain Goddess He tore down the Great Spirit from its perch Down to dead stone he cast it The mountain shook and cracked And there under his order the Sages of Arkodai bound The Ripper of the Cedars into the hammer which The Arkodians had gifted to noble Uridush So great was the fury of the spirit that all save for one of  The Seven Sages was consumed by lightless death Before he too fell, Silver-eyed Banusos  The Seventh Sage with eyes broken and ears torn Fell upon his knees and presented to Tamel The hammer, The hammer that shakes mountains Greatest of Noble Arms With gut of dragon and kiriki The King of the Kishites  Bound its head and with the rope which had bound the spirit  he wrapped its olive haft so that it may not slip in his mighty grasp And He named it, Gate Breaker For Before it, No Man nor City Could Stand ”

-From The Great History (Ti Jal Tiamut)

“Oh Noble Tamel Oh Beautiful Tamel Oh Glorious Tamel Your Life Taken by Arkodian Treachery  By the cold Ocean Swallowed Your Blood Swore upon Shebali’s Sand An Oath Terrible and Dark Bound By Spirit and Gods That Arkodian Blood Should be Shed Till Every Vein Was Run Dry Till No Kings Sit Upon Stone Thrones Till Arkodai Kingdom Be No More  Than a Memory Faint Till the Last Sages of Ancient Furnaces  Draw breath no longer

7 Children Sailed 100,000 Men Beside to Arkodai Bound Ladaru Vengeful and Great, Fell first, Pierced by Arrow Keen By His own Blood Shot and Felled Baza, Jealous Brother-Killer, Brought low by Vengeful Justice Then Atab, Silent and Strong, Crushed by Serpent Vast Sema, the Magnificent, Whose Chariot Flattened Cities By wicked poison was Slain Then Farutima and Mushadi, Wise and Merciful By Ikopi Pirate and Arkodian Treachery were Cut Twas Hiruha Cunning, the last of your Children to bear a crown Who From Waters Cold and Cruel Bore You Up  No Rot Victorious Nor Decay Enthroned Upon You From Your Hand She Took Gate Breaker Your Hammer Great and Powerful Thirty Men they say, Thirty Men to Break your Grasp With Hammer in Hand at Myminat’s Plain She Broke Mikrab Who Knew You Once, Whose Madness Raged He Fled and the Walls Shattered Before Him Into the Terrible City She Rode There Sages Wicked In Their Own Furnaces Burned And With them All Knowledge of Western Metal  Was Rendered to Ash and Bone Crumbled

But When Victorious Upon Her Ship She Sailed Home Towards Great Labisa To Her Father’s Throne But Like Her Father Before Swallowed by Sea was She Lost to Darkness Blinding Darkness Last Child of Tamel Beloved Daughter Taken to Lives Unlived Your Mighty Weapon Gone, by the abyss consumed Your Name Sake Tamel the Victorious Tamel the King Who Spared the Shepherd And Crushed the Last Kings of Arkodai Searched Dark Waters For Beloved Hiruha But Found Naught but Whispering Waves We Mourn Her We Cry Out To Gods We Pray Hammer of Kings May You Return to Us And May the Bones of Glorious Hiruha  Rest Beside Her Family Eternally.”

-The Lament of Tamel and Hiruha

Appearance

As Bop is trapped within the hammer of Tamel, they are not immediately visible. The hammer itself is crudely made, its head is made from unpolished Arkodian Bronze, which is itself a dark brown colour, somewhat similar to oxidized iron. The head is additionally wrapped in a couple small lengths of ancient leathers (supposedly from a dragon and a kiriki), the haft (which has been replaced numerous times) is made from olive wood and is wrapped in a rope once made from a mixture of Arkodian Bronze fibre and plant material. The plant material has since rotted away leaving nothing only the metallic elements behind. To the untrained eye it is an unimpressive and largely undesirable tool, too large and heavy for a normal person to wield and certainly not aesthetically pleasing.

The only way to see Bop is to let them into your mind while holding the hammer. Not everyone can see Bop clearly, for example when Ninma holds the hammer, the spirit appears in her mind is little more than a silver cloud. However when Narul holds the hammer, and when Bop feels the need to manifest a form (rather than merely existing as a voice in Narul's head), Narul sees a constantly shifting figure seemingly made of solidified mist or cloud. Their traits are never static and over the course of just a few seconds they may change entirely. As a result Narul has difficulty describing the spirit to others.

Personality

Bop is a curious, wise and kindly being. As a result of being trapped in darkness for so long they cherish the chance to get to speak with Narul and to see through his eyes. They don't remember much about their old existence, however they don't seem particularly concerned about it either. Bop is vague, though not intentionally and tends to be far more interested in the needs and wants of others, primarily Narul, rather than their own. Bop is a very powerful spirit and can make this fact known when they want to.

Gender/Pronouns

Agender

Bop as a spirit does not experience normal human expressions of genders, what is more their constantly shifting nature means that they have very few static traits. As such Narul views Bop as having both Masculine and Feminine traits which themselves change regularly. The same could be said about Bop's age as the spirit may at once express traits which are constituent with older humans and those consistent with children. They are not limited to human traits either and may at times exhibit animalistic elements.

Sexual Orientation

Asexual and Aromantic

The majority of spirits, though not all, do not feel sexual attraction of any sort nor are most capable or interested in the concept of romantic love. However Bop is capable of very profound platonic love, as this is their relationship with Narul

Relationships

Bop doesn't remember much about their past friends/acquaintances including his past wielders. This includes Tamel, despite the fact that Tamel wielded their hammer for nearly 500 years, Bop has next to no memory about the Great King. Similarly they have no memory of Hiruha, though this may be because Hiruha seemingly was unable to properly communicate with spirit.

Bop is very close with Narul, protecting him from nightmares as well as the machinations of the Deep Sun. As Narul is almost always holding the hammer, the two are almost constant companions.

The relationship between Narul and Bop is very deep, bordering on being queerplatonic.

Largely through Narul, Bop has also come to care deeply for the other members of the group, most notably with Ninma and Otilia. Bop speaks to both regularly. This is done by Narul giving them the hammer to hold.

Favourite Colour

Blue

Favourite Food

Bop does not eat and likely cannot taste (though some spirits can smell), however they do experience some of the happy sensations that Narul feels when eating or smelling a food that he likes. As a result Bop is most fond of the foods that Narul likes.

Biggest Fear

That their hammer may get lost in darkness again with them in it.

Sage

No

Bop is capable of true magic beyond sagecraft. However their use of magic is severely limited by their current condition, as such most of the magic they are able to work is seen by how they affect Narul (healing, increasing his strength, etc.)

Literate

No

@illarian-rambling, @mk-writes-stuff, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @willtheweaver, @patternwelded-quill

@elsie-writes, @elizaellwrites, @the-ellia-west, @the-octic-scribe, @the-golden-comet

@finickyfelix, @theprissythumbelina, @autism-purgatory, @diabolical-blue , @tildeathiwillwrite

@katenewmanwrites, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @paeliae-occasionally, @melpomene-grey @paeliae-occasionally

@drchenquill, @marlowethelibrarian, @winterandwords, @phoenixradiant, @pluttskutt

@dyrewrites, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @roach-pizza, @rivenantiqnerd, @pluppsauthor

@flaneurarbiter, @dezerex, @axl-ul, @surroundedbypearls

@treesandwords, @the-golden-comet

[crispy-dib]

Tell me everything about your oc NOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!! haha jk, ,,,,,, unless ?

Because tumblr was mean and kicked me out here’s an image of the first lil blurb I wrote

CONTINUING ON THOUGH!

Currently Eli’s main trials is 1 of his very own and 2 MK events (will elaborate further later), but in events where multiple PA’s can be in the same area (like Prime Time, any other events like that in the past I may have missed due to just getting the game recently lol) he will automatically be placed alongside Franco Barbi - typically in The Docks, but he has attended The Fun Park a few times. He is never found in The Orphanage or The Police Station.

As for Eli’s actual past? What brought him to Project Lathe? It’s a long story.

Let’s go back to the very beginning.

Eli, as he’s known, is a multidimensional being that I created in order to have a baseline sona for fictional universes. He started back in 2022 as a Sonic OC, and has just grown ever since.

He was born from a quasar and searches the multiverse for companionship and to study life on planets.

His consciousness splits upon every universe (meaning that only this version of it is present in the universe).

Only one can exist per dimension, so there is only one Elisheva for every fictional world.

and this is where we bring it back to Outlast.

Upon traversing to this world in New York, Elisheva finds he can’t achieve his regular form. He’s human in this world, against his will. Spoiler alert! that’s due to Murkoff fuckery.

For reference: Eli is usually in the appearance of an anthropomorphic rabbit because again, thats how he began (a sonic oc.) Tosses these at ya!

He attempts to live a normal life in the Outlast world, despite being SO out of his element. This doesn’t really go well.

Being a human version of himself, and in the 1930s-50s where he grows up in New York…things aren’t…great.

Firstly those scars? Those aren’t there. He grows into “a woman”. With all the societal pressures of being an adult in the 50s, he has to perform femininity to an incredulous degree. Or, he should.

He refuses. Living as himself rather than the fraudulent woman people around him wishes him to be. What used to be friends are now enemies, and the world begins to crumble beneath him.

On top of that, I give him my epilepsy in EVERY world, so he’s super fucked in that stance. ADA didn’t pass until the 1990s, and there was no goddamn way people would accommodate for him.

Slowly being stripped of his personhood, he loses himself. And if he can’t look the way he truly is, and if he cannot be helped without death, then death it shall be.

He begins an impressive murder spree, the mask fused to his face being the flesh of his victims. The only reason Clyde Perry isn’t harmed from attempting to find him is because Elisheva already almost took himself out.

Clyde finds him half dead bleeding from…it’d be easier to name where he WASN’T bleeding from, but the most shocking part to many was his chest. He lopped parts of it off (an actually written moment of my own intrusive/impulsive thoughts if I had no restraint)

So Eli is taken to Sinyala without much of a hitch and slight reconstruction on his breasts, arms, legs- really everywhere but his face, which, of course, now bore the mask.

^ A transcription of an interview :)

He’s named Project Patchwork after the mask and Patchwork Rabbit for the same reason.

I and others have this headcanon of The Prime Assets having their own holding rooms at Sinyala - and I know it’s cliché, but at first Eli is held WITH Franco in an effort to calm the both of them. Franco needs a Mommy and Eli needs a damn friend. I’m not sure if I do want them to separate their rooms, but if they ever do it’ll just add more interesting things to their dynamic. They will EVENTUALLY become an item, but it takes a very long time.

Eli’s Trial is called “Reform the Formless”, and it takes place on The Campsite.

His MK Challenges are “Evacuate The Grounds” and “Drown the Counselor”

RTF has tasks that builds to you eventually rushing out with mannequin “children” and putting them into a cart, pushing them to safety. Eli will try to protect these children. This is a 45 minute trial.

“Taking away the bonds that which the cow has with her calf is how we create more cows. More milk. More money. Take these lost cows from their mother. Take them. Reform them. And we will let you out.”

ETG is a shorter version, where you pretty much only take the kids out, versus everything else in the made up trial (which includes gaining access to the grounds through summer camp-like quests) this is a 15 minute trial.

DTC is actually a lot like Vindicate The Guilty or Cleanse The Orphans in the sense of ya need keys to activate a thing to kill a man. This time its boat keys and a “dunk the ___” minigame to complete the trial. 15 minute trial

Eli tends to kill using only his teeth and nails as well as general brute force. He can also pick up things like bricks and bottles to throw at you, but he much prefers the former.

Uhh that’s all I have. If you read this far I’m giving you a kiss on the forehead and hugs (with consent of course)

[synonymroll648]

WHERES MY BOY DRAWINGS AND BUTLER HEADCANONS *holds you at butler point* /j /not forcing /this this supposed to be silly /im not forcing you /im not an assholeplease

thanks for clarifying the tone on this one, because otherwise i wouldn’t have read this right. took my time cooking these up because i care about The Boy (for those who don’t know: an oc this person made that’s a stray cat fitz adopted). closeups (all right side up) and headcanons under the cut :)

headcanons that are indeed related to the drawings here, and then some! (disclaimer that i’ve never had a service cat before, but i have had a service dog, so there may be some major inaccuracies here, in which case please correct me for future reference)

butler may have been a scrawny stray when fitz first got him, but since he only eats things fitz bakes and fitz bakes all the time from stress, he’s a bit of a Thick Boy. and we love him for that

fitz learned how to bake cat treats through definitely legal searches for cat treat recipes, and help from the gnomes and sophie (she’s the only one that knows which gnomish veggies taste like what meats) substitutes for fish and stuff

they’re human/elvin grade treats ofc

butler is a pretty good name for not only his appearance but also his personality most of the time! butler loves fetching things for people, especially fitz. usually he gives people either things he loves or things he notices them pick up frequently

this includes fitz’s imparter (which now has bite marks around the corners), biana’s hairbrush, alden’s scrolls on occasion (fitz apologized profusely the first time it happened, alden just laughed it off. he now calls butler’s bite marks in his doomed papers “autographs”), and della’s jewelry (there was one time he accidentally got her earrings stuck to the magnets in his service vest - we’ll get back to that later - and kinda just jingled around everglen trying to find her. the gnomes found him first and couldn’t stop laughing. the rest is history)

butler is also known to sleep on any and all clothes fitz leaves folded out, and also try to drag said folded clothes to fitz on school mornings in an attempt to help out. it is not very successful. fitz has three lint rollers in his foxfire satchel, and two in whatever everyday cape he’s wearing. he’s recently started having the gnomes teach him how to mend the accidental tears butler’s attempts to be helpful leave

one time butler almost broke a bottle of raven lovelylocks by trying to jump down from fitz’s bathroom counter with the bottle in his jaws. fitz opened the door to see him about to jump and frantically made his way over to butler so butler wouldn’t grip it tighter and break the glass. first line of action afterward was to hail dex and check if lovelylocks as a brand used chemicals harmful to cats. he now leaves all products in his (closed) bathroom cabinets

the first time butler tried to bring mr. snuggles to fitz, fitz almost had a breakdown, because it looked like his new cat was trying to rip apart his emotional support stuffed animal. in reality our little man only had his claws out because he was trying to pull the covers mr. snuggles was tucked under, and his teeth were at snuggles’ throat because that was the narrowest point of contact butler was could find. in the moment fitz panicked super hard, and didn’t let him anywhere near mr. snuggles for days. he figured out what was really going on when he saw butler drag biana’s stuffed yeti lady sassyfur to the door by the arm later that week and drop it at her feet

now that fitz knows what butler’s deal is, he’s allowed near mr. snuggles, and is often seen curled around the stuffed dragon. especially when fitz isn’t home and butler doesn’t get to go with him

butler is surprisingly trainable! he’s incredibly food motivated, but also can be trained on affection alone. he’s all good as long as he gets to be clingy. fitz pretends to grumble about the constant attention all the time, but not so secretly loves having an excuse to smother someone in physical affection. even if that someone is a cat. butler is refreshingly less complicated than his friends and family

butler knows soooooo many tricks. bro can roll over and sit and lay and fetch and “butler, cmon, drop it” and spin and go for walks and shoulder rides on command. he can stand on his back legs too. he’s not quite athletic enough for backflips, though. fitz is planning on getting him on a training regimen working toward that soon

butler is super duper talkative. will shush on command most of the time, but he has his rebellious moments. mostly when fitz goes in the kitchen or when he’s by the door. will yowl for treats or a walk without hesitation. polite yowls though. meows increasingly loudly when he can’t get into something and wants someone to open it for him. mostly doors. everyone knows to just pick him up and move him somewhere else if he wants help in the kitchen though. no unearned treats for you, sir!

butler has an absurd amount of collars and leashes and toys because fitz is so the kind of guy to get gifts for his cat all the time. all his collars and leashes match - the one he’s wearing in the sketches is his plainest one, and also his first one. his name’s usually engraved on a heart but sometimes a star or paw. butler’s favorite toys are the feathers on strings that you tug around with a stick. he will get that thing if it fucking kills him or someone else. it’s fetch for diehards and goddamnit he will win (he’s just like fitz fr fr)

butler loves walks but doesn’t know his limits. one second he’ll be prancing along and the next he’s flopped out in the grass somewhere on everglen’s property giving a very sad, tired meow. that is when fitz picks him up, puts him over his shoulder, and goes back inside

butler gets on fitz’s shoulders at nearly every opportunity. this unfortunately has ruined a decent amount of capes, and left a lot of scratch marks along fitz’s back and right leg (there was one time butler used fitz’s bad leg and fitz nearly collapsed, and butler has since been trained to not touch fitz’s left knee). fitz loves the feeling of having a purring scarf that gives his cheek kisses too much to mind

speaking of purring! bro purrs so loud you can hear him across the room. that shit rumbles through your whole body. his favorite spot is fitz’s chest. sometimes he’ll need fitz’s chest before settling down, to which fitz calls him his little baker butler baking biscuits. most commonly occurs when fitz is stress-baking in the middle of the night, though that happens less with butler around

during a check-in with elwin, elwin noticed that fitz’s echoes (especially in his chest) seemed to be doing a lot better since he and butler had gotten into their little rhythm of things. he decided to have a check in at everglen next time so he could look at how fitz’s body reacted to butler purring on his chest and such in the face of his echoes acting up slightly, and found that his echoes’ effects were tamped down compared to usual

elwin was immediately like hey dude considering how easy this cat is to train, and how it’s helping you with your disabilities that you are not ready to call disabilities echoes, you should put him through service cat training. i know a guy. and so they did that

butler is quite serious when he’s got his vest on. goes from wandering goofy goober to steadfastly walking next to fitz, or politely meowing to get on fitz’s shoulders when it’s crowded or to get fitz’s attention when fitz is stressed out. he has a different number of polite meows for different requests. the last request is less of a request and more of a demand, though, since his job is to get fitz to relax. doesn’t meow otherwise

the moment the vest’s off he’s back to being super silly though. all the urges he was holding back to fetch things or beg for treats are let loose. behold, cat zoomie hell. unless fitz is just taking his vest off so butler is comfy falling asleep for the night, in which case butler is a nice quiet cuddle buddy

everyone loves butler but man does sophie love him possibly as much as fitz. part of it’s her being someone with major echoes, part of it’s her being his cognate, but the biggest part of it is that she misses marty ._.

oh yeah the magnets i mentioned earlier in his vest! that’s because i was too lazy to draw buckles i thought it’d be interesting for elvin service animal vests to use small magnets instead of buckles, considering how elves like to use magnets when it’s more convenient. specifically referring to the deleted scene where fitz explained how elvin rings are magnetic and no one gets piercings

[the12thnightproject]

Chapter :  The Kitty Equivalence - Mitsunari’s strategy for affection confuses Okatsu, while Shohime’s scheme to avoid marrying the daimyo ... could use some work.

Mitsunari x OC; Nobunaga x Mai

Previous Chapter

Logline - In order to protect a political alliance, Katusko and Mitsunari must pretend an engagement. But this “all business” arrangement is threatened by a coup against Nobunaga… and by feelings.

From the Military Notes of Ishida Mitsunari…

Decision-making occurs in a recurring cycle of observe-orient-decide-act. An entity (whether an individual or an organization) that can process this cycle quickly, observing and reacting to unfolding events more rapidly than an opponent, can thereby "get inside" the opponent's decision cycle and gain the advantage.

Personal Comments: When Kitty first appeared in the gardens of Azuchi, she wanted nothing to do with me. I set out food out for her every day, until finally she allowed me close enough to touch her. I discovered that if I brought a temari ball or a bit of string out to the garden, she would enthusiastically jump at the string and chase after the ball (side comment: was unsuccessful in teaching her to return ball).

Eventually Kitty followed me inside and slept in my bed. Conclusion? Food + Play = Affection.

Might not this calculation be similar for a human female?

Food.

Okatsu eats.

Play.

Okatsu likes games.

Feeding and playing with Okatsu, should result in affection.

I slept better than expected after my nightmare and only woke up at the sound of a rattle of dishes. In the light of day, my fears always seemed ridiculous and in my residual embarrassment, I considered pretending to be asleep, but the noise got closer. Cautiously, I peeped through half closed eyes to see Mitsunari setting a tray of food on the floor between the cushions.

“Breakfast in bed?” I asked before I could censor the modern out of my speech.

“Oh? Do you want me to put the tray on your futon?” Mitsunari picked up tray again, and I stopped him to prevent breakfast on bed.

“Thank you, but no. It was just an expression.” I scooted to the edge of the futon and examined the tray… and… Wow… that was a lot of fish. “Thank you for bringing it into the room.”

Since today’s agenda had Mitsunari meeting with Hideyoshi and Nobunaga in the archives room, I’d expected to have to hunt down the kitchens for a tray. It was sweet of Mitsunari to feed me before he left.

Ah, hot… tea? Huh. Nothing was coming out of the pot. I peeked under the lid – it was packed tightly with the tea leaves. Right. Masamune had warned me about Mitsunari’s tea making skills (or, lack of said skills). “It just needs to steep a bit longer.” I’d get rid of it after he left.

Mitsunari hovered anxiously over me.  “Is it to your liking? If you want anything else, like a bowl of milk, I can get it.”

“It’s all good.” A bowl of milk? Though I was getting better at understanding the Mitsunari-isms, that one was a head scratcher. Mentally shrugging, I mixed some of the fish in with the rice and… Mitsunari was … watching me. No… he was studying me. “Will you be eating too?”

“It’s nice of you to ask, but I have already eaten.” He continued to stare at me, and I could almost hear his internal circuits whirring.

Fine then. But it was freaking me out to be the only one eating. “If you want to read, I don’t mind.” Stop looking at me. I took a tiny bite, hyperaware of what I might look like chewing. Finally, I could stand it no longer. “It’s getting late��� you don’t want to keep Nobunaga and Hideyoshi waiting.”

Looking startled, he leaped to his feet. “You are correct. I will see you in the archives later.”

Once he was gone, I hurried to finish what I could of the food, then decided to use the early morning time to get in some archery practice, as, according to the maid I flagged down, there were targets set up in a clearing beyond the courtyard.

It wasn’t a great course for distance, as there were too many trees on the far end, but perfect for accuracy, and I was enjoying the peace and quiet and steady whump of my arrows, when Shohime joined me. As always, she looked like she had stepped out of a fashion magazine, had such a thing existed in this era. She was followed by one of Mozumi’s pages, who glared at me, either for daring to sully the presence of the Princess’s perfection, or because my existence was making her unhappy.

Unlike the page, Shohime was perfectly polite. “Is the training course to your liking?”

“Yes, the targets are well set up. Nice variety of sizes. Thank you.” A perfectly polite answer to a perfectly innocuous question. She was probably building up to something else.

“I think so too.” She set up and immediately hit every target with nearly as much accuracy as I had.

Ooh. It is so on.

I had been considering packing up and leaving her to it, but this was not a challenge I could back away from.  I went through a speed round and hit every target dead center. Ha! Take that Princess Perfect!

The page glared at me. Yeah. I ought to have let the princess win, but that’s a dangerous precedent. I wouldn’t want my muscles to get into the habit of missing shots.

Shohime stared at me for a long moment, then also performed a speed round. Her accuracy rivaled my own on the closer targets, but her distance shots weren’t as consistent. She side-eyed me as she waited for her page to bring back our arrows.

Hm. I could take a few steps backward and increase the distance, but I sensed that what Shohime really wanted was to talk to me… and that was confirmed when she turned to the page. “Maru, please leave us.”

He did, but not without a final glare in my direction.

Right. I waited patiently for her to state her case. Was she going to warn me away from her man? Break into a chorus of Jolene? Go mafia princess and make me an offer I couldn’t refuse? Would I wake up tomorrow with Moonlight’s head next to me on my futon?

She threw herself into my arms. “Lady Okatsu! You’ve got to help me!”

Ok. I hadn’t expected something this… wet. Where was Mai when I needed her? She might be better suited to dealing with an overemotional teenager. “Um, Shohime… shhhh… here… use my handkerchief.” I awkwardly patted her on her back. “What’s wrong?”

Her sobs grew louder.

What… what if something is really wrong? Just because she was still half a kid at seventeen didn’t mean there weren’t real world problems she was dealing with. “Are you in danger? Or… in trouble?” Was… she pregnant? Pregnancy would explain why her father was so desperate to have her engagement to the Tsuruga daimyo confirmed.

“Noooo.” She pulled back finally and looked at me with glistening eyes – Mai was right, Shohime is a pretty crier. “You’ll think I’m being a child, but you’re so smart and strong and brave.”

“You think so?” We’d just met. Sure, I like to think I’m smart and strong and brave but is it that evident to a stranger? Maybe it was.

“You must be. You’re old, Lady Okatsu, and you managed to avoid getting married until now, and now you’re engaged to someone as nice and beautiful as Mitsunari.” That last bit ended up as a wail.

Old?

Old?

I forced myself past that, because… “Shohime, is your fiancé abusive to you?”

Blink. Teardrop. Blink. Blink. There were tumbleweeds where her brain cells ought to be.

Sigh. “Is he mean to you?”

She sniffled. “He’s nice. He isn’t an ogre. Lady Yone thinks he’s terribly handsome and that I ought to be grateful that he has hair and teeth. But he’s older – like you. And he’s not Mitsunari.” The wail was back, as she said Mitsunari’s name at a decibel and pitch that likely broke glass somewhere in the castle.

I patted her on the back while she continued to sniffle. “I feel so guilty because he is so nice… he smiles at me all the time, but I don’t want him. I want Mitsunari.” Wail. Dogs were probably barking across the country. To be honest, I bet she could give Fume a run for her money.

Sniffle. Wail. Hiccup. Wail.

Well. Now she was just being dramatic.

It sounded like her fiancé was acceptable, albeit slightly out of her preferred age range… and possibly unexciting. But given who Mozumi could have chosen, she ought to count herself lucky. And… my job was to keep her away from Mitsunari, so I wasn’t going to help her with him. On the other hand, if I didn’t at least agree to find a solution, I was likely to be stuck patting her back all day. If she didn’t stop crying, I might even drown. “I’ll try to think of a way to help.”

She looked so immediately relieved and happy that I felt guilty, given that the odds of me being able to help her were pretty low. After all, what sort of future was there for her except for the one she had been raised and trained for? Accuracy in archery aside, I couldn’t see her crossing the country as a courier the way I did. True, I hadn’t been that much older than Shohime was now when I started working for Aki… but I’d had gymnastics and freerunning training already… and … well, Toshiie and I had pretty much raised ourselves. I had never been a pampered princess.

“Thank you, Lady Okatsu. I am certain that if you say you agree to the plan that Hideyoshi and Nobunaga will be happy for me to marry Mitsunari, too.” She gave me the puppy eyes, but they had no effect on me because my brain had needle scratched on “too.”

I must have looked appalled because she added quickly, “Don’t worry. I would be happy to be the second wife and leave you in charge of household duties. In fact, it’s an ideal solution as I imagine you’re too old to bear Mitsunari’s children.” She hugged me again and ran off.

What… just… happened?

Old?

I shook my head to clear it of the image of me as a house crone, bustling around to make things easy for Mitsunari and Shohime, their three adorable babies and forty kittens.

Old?

My archery zen spoiled, I packed up my things and head back to the castle. As I passed through the main entry, I caught a movement on the staircase. Looking up, I saw Lady Yone watching me. She inclined her head, and I got an ice cream headache from the look on her face. Brrr. I bowed briefly in return and hurried to the archives.

I timed my entry well, as Nobunaga and Hideyoshi had just finished prioritizing which books they most wanted Mitsunari to read. I stood in the doorway watching, wondering if I was indeed closer to Hideyoshi and Nobunaga’s ages than I was to Mitsunari’s. Maybe? Or maybe he just looked younger and more innocent next to them.

Nobunaga noticed me first and held up a book. “Okatsu, Mitsunari tells me that you’re practicing your Portuguese. Instead of reading poetry, would you do me the favor of translating this book?”

He opened it up and handed it to me. It took me a moment of squinting at the text to conclude I would not be able to translate it. I flipped to the cover to confirm my suspicion. “This is in Italian, not Portuguese. The languages are similar, but not close enough that I’d even begin to be able to translate it beyond a word or two here or there.”

“Ah. A pity. I shall have to wait until it is available in Japanese. Or until I can acquire an Italian.” (I think he was joking. Maybe.) He put the book back on the shelf, and I was very glad it was not available to him. Nobunaga and Machiavelli would have been a dangerous combination.

He bowed and left us alone…

… with Hideyoshi.

Mitsunari settled happily down with what seemed like a thousand pieces of paper, while Hideyoshi loomed over me. “Where were you this morning?” He sounded just like a school administrator scolding a truant… I ought to know. I’d been a truant often enough.

“Keeping Shohime occupied on the archery field.” I settled down with the poem in my lap like an obedient little princess. “She is still… fixed on the idea of Mitsunari.”

The man in question didn’t even twitch at the sound of his name. He was already deep into his work.

“I don’t understand why.” Hideyoshi sounded like he was talking to himself.

Really? Way to diss your own vassal, Hideyoshi. “He’s smart, kind, young and attractive. Why wouldn’t she?” I shot another look at Mitsunari, who was smiling happily, beautifully over his book, oblivious to everything from the topic of conversation to the stultifying heat of the room. I picked up the poem and fanned myself with it.

Hideyoshi’s hands tightened on the scroll he was holding. He set it down. “I’m aware of that. However, Shohime’s fiancé is said to be all of that as well.” He reached over and plucked the poem out of my hands. “This is a book. Not your fan – which you appear to have left in your room.”

Oops. I had. Well. Too late for that now. I pushed the conversation away from Hideyoshi’s favorite ‘let’s criticize Katsuko’ topic. “You mentioned that she’s had a crush on Mitsunari since last summer. Maybe she’s not ready to give that up. Sometimes people can’t help wanting what they cannot have.”

“I know that.” Hideyoshi’s mood altered in a flash. He handed the book back to me, then straightened his spine and marched out of the room. Crap. I had forgotten his feelings for Mai.

Glancing at Mitsunari, I wondered how much, if any, of that he had heard. His mild gaze was already fastened on me. So… a change of subject was needed. I gestured to the stack of books in front of him. “They want you to read all of these books while we are here?”

“Yes. It’s wonderful.” Mitsunari smiled like Nobunaga had just given him a box of kittens. His enthusiasm for the task made me laugh. “Why are you laughing?”

“No reason. You seemed so happy it made me want to smile too.”  I’d had a mental image of Mitsunari sitting in a box with kittens climbing all over him – my brain filed that as cute overload. But I would keep that to myself.

“Interesting.” He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he picked up a book and began his “homework.”

I made myself as comfortable as I could on a cushion a couple meters away and forced myself into that Portuguese poem. While I was glad Mitsunari had a task he enjoyed, this poem was not nearly that exciting. Face it, Katsuko, you’re not much of a reader.

Still, I managed to focus and once I got into the rhythm of the language, I found it less of a slog. It was no “Song of Ice and Fire” but there were Gods and battles and sea voyages (I think) so there was that.

All was quiet, and peaceful, until--

Crunch

A wadded up ball of paper landed in my lap. I looked at Mitsunari, but he was intent on making notes for Nobunaga. Had he meant to toss it away? Or was it a note?

I uncrumpled it – was blank. Flipped it over. Still blank. When I looked back at Mitsunari, his head was down, eyes focused on his task.

It was a mystery.

In case he wanted it back, I crumpled it up again and tossed it to him. My aim was perfect – it landed by his elbow. He didn’t acknowledge the paper, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile.

Shaking my head, I returned to the poem.

Crunch

Twenty minutes or so later, the paper had returned to my lap.

Again, Mitsunari seemed oblivious to flying paper.

With a shrug, I tossed it back.

If it happened again, I would be ready for it. I pretended to be reading but kept my peripheral vision on Mitsunari. When the paper ball came at me a third time, I reached up and batted it out of the air. “Why are you throwing paper wads at me?”

“Do you not like it, Okatsu?” He frowned, and I felt guilty for asking.

“I neither dislike, nor like. I was simply wondering why.” Maybe he had overloaded that brain of his. “Do you need a break? It might be good for you to get outside for a little while.”

The afternoon was as lovely as the morning. Hopefully the fresh breeze would blow away whatever fog that infected Mitsunari’s brain and contributed to the paper-tossing incident.

It looked like Hikosane had escaped his minders too. He was running around the courtyard with a temari ball, kicking it up into the air with his feet and knees, and laughing with kid-glee. Mitsunari nudged my shoulder with his. “We should join him – that looks to be fun play.”

Strange suggestion coming from Mitsunari, but it did look like fun, so I didn’t offer much protest. After all, healthy body, healthy mind, right?

Hikosane had invented a game with the temari that was somewhat like hot potato – whoever had the temari was ‘in danger’ as long as they were holding it. The object was to throw the ball to another player as soon as possible before you were caught by the others. It didn’t completely make sense – but the game had been created by a ten-year-old, so some allowance was needed. “I ought to have refined the rules more,” he said in that miniature adult way of his. “But none of my sisters will play with me.”

“None? There are more of them?” More Shohimes? That was… a frightening process.

“Yes. Shohime’s mother is my father’s first wife. She lives in Kyoto as part of the Emperor’s court. My mother was my father’s second wife, but she died when I was born, and I do not remember her. My four younger sisters are Lady Yone’s, who is my father’s third wife. Now second, I suppose.” He tossed the ball up in the air and caught it again.

As I said, the rules of the game didn’t make complete sense and although I couldn’t run as well in Okatsu’s kimono as I could in Katsu’s clothing, the modifications that Mai had designed at least let me move about relatively freely.

It came as no surprise to me that Mitsunari’s ability to aim was somewhat south of negative forty-two. His tosses got nowhere near the person he threw to, but that just added to the silliness of it. It went on this way for a good half hour or so, until I had the temari and Mitsunari ran straight toward me. I tossed it to Hikosane, but Mitsunari, distracted by the sudden appearance of Hideyoshi in the yard, was unable to stop his forward motion.

… and that’s how Mitsunari and I ended up in the ornamental fish pond.

Though to hear Hideyoshi tell it… it was my fault for encouraging the game to begin with.

Awesome commissioned artwork by @fighting-and-drawing

@katriniac @lorei-writes @bestbryn @lyds323 @briars7

[osamucide]

R E I D ?!?!!!

casually dropping the divine comedy as ada!reid’s ability ?!?!?! nonono, i need DETAILS, i need THE LORE, i need to know what age he discovered it and if it frightened him or made him feel STRONG !!!

( if you feel like expanding i mean. love you, love ada!reid, smooches )

MINNNIIIIEEEEEEEE ILYSM ILL TALK ABOUT THIS FOREVER IF YOU LET ME

non-exhaustive BSD OC lore drop beneath the cut

I am so excited to explain this ability. Nine Circles of Hell is a multi-layered summoning ability, similar to Demon Snow or Golden Demon in that it ultimately manifests anthropomorphically, but I want to first talk about Reid’s childhood which is when he discovered his ability as I believe that will lead into a better overall understanding of each aspect of it—

Reid was born somewhere in southern Italy to a staunchly devout Roman Catholic family with very close ties to the Italian mafia/La Cosa Nostra. his immediate family immigrated by boat to the eastern United States (probably somewhere in New York/New Jersey) when he was early primary school aged in pursuit of better business/economic opportunities. throughout childhood and into the rest of his life, he struggles with what can be assumed as undiagnosed mental illness—especially depression/derealization/panic—for multitudes of reasons including neglect and early exposure to crime and violence; almost all of them stem from his family’s criminal lifestyle. in his pre-teen years, his dissociative episodes specifically begin to become associated with the manifestation of a fog-like apparition. the presence of the fog, which can disperse and reform, induces further disorientation. this was rather distressing for young Reid.

he has a difficult time understanding the presence and nature of the fog, as does his family, but this will eventually come to be understood as a manifestation of the first circle of hell as referenced in Dante’s Inferno: Limbo.

another thing perhaps of note—Italy/La Cosa Nostra deals with special ability users to a far lesser degree than Japan/Yokohama/the Port Mafia seems to. figuring the nature of the fog, and soon after the hot wind-entity that manifests as a representation of the second circle, Lust (which incidentally appears as he starts puberty LOL), entails a trip back to Italy and connecting with medical professionals associated with the mob (under the inital assumption that he may have been schizophrenic) and later the scarce other local crime families who happen to house and deal with ability users. he hears the phrase “special ability” for the first time when he’s eleven years old.

by this time, the third circle, Gluttony, begins to manifest in what appears to be dirty water—prolonged exposure to the entity brings on uncontrollable feelings of hunger. now that I’ve established these ones as prior to/right at his point of understanding that Nine Circles is an ability, I’ll explain the remaining six circles’ manifestations as they tend to be more concrete and are only accessible to Reid as his understanding of how to control/summon/utilize his ability grows.

the fourth circle, Greed—entity takes the form of illusory manifestations of material wealth and riches. much like Gluttony, prolonged physical contact with the manifestations will result in uncontrolled, judgement-clouding feelings of envy.

the fifth circle, Wrath—manifested as a contorted body made entirely of human hands. the hands can wield weapons or engage in combat on behalf of the ability user.

the sixth circle, Heresy—entity takes a flame form that comes with not only bludgeoning heat but also slight reality distortion meant to disorient targets.

the seventh circle, Violence—an animal, particularly dog-like, form of the entity appearing to be made of blood. attacks relentlessly and ruthlessly, most of the time at will of the user but sometimes indescriminately

the eighth circle, Fraud—the entity may take the form of one human being other than the ability user.

the ninth circle, Treachery—entity takes an ice form that comes not only with bitter cold, but favors targeting those most morally corrupt.

this is where you might be saying woah, Reid, this ability is wayyyy overpowered. and you might be correct if not for the conditions, limitations, and drawbacks which I will now discuss—

each individual facet of Nine Circles has specific conditions under which it may happen, the first and foremost being the user's understanding of how to summon it. Reid's experiences with first summoning each one would be a novel itself probably but a few are briefly listed up there so I'll do another listicle format for the conditions, drawbacks, and limitations.

universal drawbacks of the ability include these: that the manifestation of any of the circles will result in certain levels of emotional exhaustion in the user. no two circles/facets can be utilized at the same time. the degree to which a target is affected by a particular facet of Nine Circles is partially determined by how afflicted they are by the sin; i.e. a crooked business man might be especially susceptible to Greed

the first circle, Limbo—

CONDITIONS: user must enter a state of derealization/dissociation

DRAWBACKS: difficult to maintain if the user is unable to dissociate or is not already in a state of dissociation; prolonged use will cause immense emotional and mental exhaustion

LIMITATIONS: non-offensive facet; better suited for confusing the battlefield, but works indiscriminately when dispersed—will confuse allies as well

the second circle, Lust—

CONDITIONS: user must conjure a mental or physical image of some sort of desire and keep this in mind/on hand

DRAWBACKS: prolonged use can reflect on the user in the form of both emotional and mental exhaustion and intense sexual arousal

LIMITATIONS: can be used offensively only if summoned to the proper capacity (ie strong wind) which must be maintained by the mental/physical image of desire; can be directed, but if strong enough will work indiscriminately, possibly harming allies

the third circle, Gluttony—

CONDITIONS: user must be operating on an empty/mostly empty stomach

DRAWBACKS: user is prone to exhaustion quicker if using this facet due to the necessary fasting procedure needed to summon it

LIMITATIONS: liquid manifestation is user-controllable; N/A/???

the fourth circle, Greed—

CONDITIONS: same as the second circle, Lust

DRAWBACKS: N/A/???

LIMITATIONS: non-offensive facet; better for confusing the battlefield; illusions can only be maintained under conditions (although it is easier to maintain than Lust)

the fifth circle, Wrath—

CONDITIONS: user must feel passionately about the cause they're combating

DRAWBACKS: N/A/???

LIMITATIONS: while the body can wield weapons and engage in combat, its range is limiting and it can be harmed like a regular human body—regeneration only takes place after the ability is dismissed

the sixth circle, Heresy—

CONDITIONS: N/A/???

DRAWBACKS: heat and reality distortion reflect back on the user to a lesser extent than targets, but can still be overwhelming

LIMITATIONS: only those who have physically spoken a lie in the prior twenty-four hours are majorly susceptible—others will not be affected unless touched directly by flame, which is controllable by user but more fluid than say Wrath

the seventh circle, Violence—

CONDITIONS: user must shed any amount of blood to activate

DRAWBACKS: may manifest after major blood loss out of the control of the user

LIMITATIONS: while mostly commandable by the user, high enough levels of exhaustion/exertion might allow Violence to attack indiscriminately, possibly harming allies

the eigth circle, Fraud—

CONDITIONS: user must have and keep the physical appearance of the intended form in mind

DRAWBACKS: N/A/???

LIMITATIONS: taking on the form of another will not grant the entity their powers/ability; largely non-offensive, more ideal for distraction/manipulation like Greed

the ninth circle, Treachery—

CONDITIONS: N/A/???

DRAWBACKS: heaviest reflection on the user due to the nature of the ability. each time Treachery is used, the chances of the facet turning on the user slightly increase

LIMITATIONS: see drawbacks

Reid had discovered all of these by the time he was almost fifteen years old. in present time, the only ones he regularly utilizes are Wrath and Violence due to both their minimal drawbacks compared to other circles and the high level of control he comes to hone over them.

At fifteen is when he was sent to Yokohama, which is another lore drop entirely I think. maybe I should go back to that multichapter fic I scrapped that was basically going to be all of his lore? I've spent quite some time mulling over this ability not only as it unfolds in the world of BSD and in relation to characters, but also how it relates to me—since Reid essentially is me, a lot of his character/ability is informed by (personal moment lolz) how intensely I've found myself to experience emotions throughout my life and how they can both harm and help me and others/what kinds of kickbacks they have when activated. that being said, this is non-exhaustive, just like him as a whole, just like me too. I sincerely hope this was interesting!

[defining-skyology]

Defining Darkness.

I need to decide what I want to do here.

I could just tell you what I think the Answer (to each topic) is, and what led me to that. But instead, I want to ask as many questions as possible. If I'm alone in my echo chamber, I need to be my own worst enemy, the most thorough critic possible. I want to make this fun (for me).

So let's strip this down to the most barebones it can be, and dive into the wonderful world of Lexicology: the study of words.

Darkness.

Darkness, according to Wikipedia, is defined as:

A lack of illumination

An absence of visible light, or

or a surface that absorbs light.

Darkness is a concrete, normal concept about real life, but it has transcended beyond its immediate definition to become a steeple of powerful metaphors expressing endless bounds of human emotion.

Darkness is used to paint a picture of evils, unknowns, dangers beyond the warmth of the sun. Darkness eats the sun, holds it hostage and drains hope, love, and joy. Darkness wants, it hungers, and it schemes. It has a plan. And worst of all, it's very patient.

...at least in writing.

Darkness can mean anything a writer wants it to mean, so it can mean all of those, and it could mean none of those!

Our job as Lore theorists, is to observe what this word means to Sky, and what picture should be painted in our head when we try to understand exactly, just what 'darkness' is.

{{{Continue Reading}}}

Because to the unaware, when they first hear of a "Darkness" in Sky, their minds go to every far corner possible that I had just poetized above.

There is an inescapable tendency among fanfic writers and OC designers to relish and drool over the idea of 'the bad guy'. We are craving an antagonist, and we paint them in our thoughts the moment a crumb of content leans in that direction.

And even better than an antagonist; we are itching for an antihero. For some kind of 'opposite' side against the light. Something to represent our rebellions and battles in real life as we rage against the machine, for whatever our machines are.

"Dark" creatures, "dark" skykids, "dark" elders; a world of possibility opens up and we just can't help ourselves, not even the devs!

[Official Sky concept art by Tom Zhao]

But enough about Lexicology (the study of words (if you forgot)).

What about what we can actually see in person? (In game)

As we begin to observe the world around us, we have an immediate official Rule that every theorist seems to agree on:

If it hurts your Light, it's Darkness.

[By the way, damage to your Flame is not damage to your Light. This will someday make sense later.]

The game warns us early on to 'protect your Light', and as we travel through the realms we find creatures that attack us; creatures that the game warns in loading screens are 'dark' entities, "hungry for your light". The rainfall and sludge in wasteland are also harmful to your Light, showing that Darkness may be carried in water.

Within this rule we now have a small list of Things-That-Hurt-Us:

Forest rain

Wasteland water

Darkness crabs

Dark Dragons (Krill)

Shardfall, and Dark Shards

And for the loremoffy, that leaves them with a bunch of questions and dots to connect. Starting with the creatures on the list, we're instantly alarmed, especially as moths entering the false temple for the first time. These two 'enemies' are canonically named by quests and loading screens as 'dark' creatures. "Are they dark evil minions of the bad guy??" gasps the moth, audibly. They certainly seem evil, attacking you with no [some] hesitation. If they are 'a part of' the Darkness, then that seems to guarantee the Darkness wants/exists to attack Light.

And what of signs of 'evil' darkness that don't appear to hurt you?

Darkness plants, also canonically named so, don't hurt you, but, foreign and invasive in appearance and nature, they do seem to be uninvited guests in a land that didn't really expect them. They appear in places that are wet and dimly lit, and have been seen to trap exposed light, be that smaller creatures of Light, memories of Light (released by Shardfall or memory/spirit quests), and lastly, the spirits of Ancestors, who's shells have been cracked and exposed to the Darkness.

The plants appear to keep and store Light, mostly inside small orb-like sacs. This along with the fact that it traps Beings of Light and memories of Light, seems to show that whatever this 'Darkness' is, it doesn't 'get rid' of Light, but rather bury it, keeping it perpetually contained, encased within a strange tomb indefinitely.

More official concept art by Tom Zhao

These things are slowly and painfully choking the land, killing whatever still dares to perch on the ground. They may or may not be 'evil', but whatever they are, they're a plague, a disease. Are they what make the Dark creatures the way they are, or do Dark creatures and Dark plants all appear because of something deeper down the rabbithole?

We follow the trail of Darkness, worse and worse as we grow near its source, and find that the worst of the Darkness comes from the ruined kingdom's heart of society. Whatever Darkness is, the Ancestors obviously seem to have something to do with it. From here the lore moth can trail down a few paths. The Ancestors were either the direct cause of this Darkness, or created it by accident. It was either directly connected to whatever they were doing, or they didn't expect Darkness to be a factor at all. Regardless, we'll look at why Darkness is on another day.

But What is it?

The goal of an Answer is to be able to summarize everything you know about a subject, into a bitesize, consumable, tolerable answer. And to answer what Darkness is, after all of this blog-long research and meditation; one specific word is the Answer.

noun

noun: pollution

the presence in or introduction into the environment of a substance or thing that has harmful or poisonous effects.

Pollution is the word that matches everything we know about the way this Darkness spreads. It has been introduced into the environment by the Ancestors, and is affecting the world. Pollution contaminates and poisons, killing the world with no intent of its own, but destroying everything nonetheless. This is the perfect word for what we've seen in our journey so far.

But how does this tie back in to the beginning of this post?

We had determined that the possible definitions of Darkness ellicit:

Lack of Light

Opposite of Light

An Evil

Absorption/Burying of Light

We are beginning to find that Darkness in the world of Sky does not 'lack' Light, as it instead traps and stores Light in a perpetual sleep.

🚫 [Darkness]: a lack of Light

We have also found that, being released by the Ancestors of the ancient kingdom, Darkness is not seemingly malicious, but instead a force, a storm, almost 'natural' in its ways, with no conscious mind of its own. We cannot create a face of pollution in real life enough to visualize an antagonist we can 'defeat', unless you generalize a concept of rich old fat men. It is the same way with Darkness in Sky. It's probably not 'evil', but it's not okay.

🚫 [Darkness]: an ancient evil

But we have confirmed that it does absorb Light, which is a concrete definition of 'darkness' in the dictionary.

[Darkness]: content that absorbs Light ✅✅✅

And because of that, we've come full circle! 🎊🎉🎇

Wait, we didn't address if our Darkness is or is not synonymous with the definition "opposite of Light"...

Well, maybe it's better we hold off on that thought for now. Because in order to say it's the opposite of Light, first we have to Define what Light is. And I think its safe to say we won't get there for a while. 😅

You're crazy if you actually read all of this, but thank you so much.

I think I'm really going to enjoy making these, so long as I can make them s l i g h t l y coherent. Have a good day/night yall!

[hokis-aj]

(Her ghost bestie, Masahiro, wrote over it) (and helped her write it)

I just wanted to share one of my Hogwarts Legacy oc. Might do the others too later 😮‍💨

Thanks to @kiwiplaetzchen for the template ✌🏻🥸

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Name : Hakashi Reita. Her family is quite special in its own way. Let's just say that its members have always had fun giving their children names with gloomy meanings and, of course, the little girl was no exception, being named Hakashi. A very pretty name... for such a bad meaning. Haka is said to mean "Tomb", while "Shi" means "Death". As for her family name, which is just as pleasant, it's Reita. Her name comes from the words "to be haunted" (取 り 憑 か れ た, Tori Tsukareta). The phonetic syllable rei in her name may also represent 霊 (rei), meaning spirit or ghost.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Special ability : Even if she’s blind, Hakashi has the uncanny ability to glimpse the souls of those who have died and are still roaming the earth. Although she's in charge of moving souls to the afterlife, some seem unwilling to leave because they haven't yet fulfilled their last wish. She uses this gift to help them leave in peace. This is one of the reasons to why she keep her eyes closed most of the time, finding hard to look at some of the souls but mostly because they are annoying *kof kof* Masahiro *kof kof*.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Personality : Hakashi appears at first glance to be an eccentric and cheerful girl, an image that belies her background in a family that runs a cemetery. Known for her love of pranks and her disdain for idleness, she is determined to live her life to the fullest. This zest for life and her quirky personality often leave a negative impression on those around her. A former classmate, in particular, goes as far as to describe her as having a "punchable face" and suggests she should be kept in a frozen room. Hakashi's acceptance of death as a natural part of life might come across as insensitive to some, but it allows her to truly respect her job of helping the dead "cross over." This perspective leads her to dislike certain scientists, particularly those who seek to prolong life unnaturally. Her personality is as multifaceted as the grains of sand in a desert, constantly surprising people with her bizarre ideas. Despite the impression that she is always playing and never working, Hakashi's true dedication shines when she leads funeral processions down lamp-lit aisles, revealing a dignified and solemn side. She can amuse herself for hours playing a four-player card game alone, an activity whose joys remain a mystery to everyone but herself. While widely regarded as a lax entrepreneur due to her idle moments, Hakashi's commitment to her unique approach to life and work is unwavering.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Story : Hakashi was born on October 31st, under a moon that bathed the world in a cold, ethereal glow. She was a child of the night, born at 3:00 a.m., or more precisely at 3:33 a.m., an hour fraught with meaning. It is said that 3:33 a.m. is the devil's hour, the moment when evil spirits rise to observe the souls of the living as they drift off to sleep. It's at this dark hour that the barrier between the world of the living and that of spirits becomes fragile, allowing malevolent entities such as demons and ghosts to insinuate themselves into our reality.

In a room dimly lit by flickering candlelight, an exhausted woman tormented herself:

« That's not my daughter ! Look at those black eyes, that thing isn't human, it didn't come out of my womb, no, it can't be ! » she cried, her voice shattered by fear and incomprehension.

These words, tinged with terror, reached little Hakashi's ears like a distant whisper, muffled by the thick darkness surrounding her. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids refused to give way. A first attempt failed. A second, too. And a third.

Hakashi was blind. Her black eyes, two unfathomable orbs, couldn't grasp the light of day or the loving faces around her. But she perceived something else, a presence invisible to others. In the darkness of her world, she could see shadows moving, indistinct shapes that did not belong to the realm of the living. Ghosts and spirits haunted her gaze, intertwining in a silent, perpetual dance.

Thus, from her very first breath, Hakashi Reita was plunged into a universe where the boundaries between life and death dissolved, where shadows whispered forgotten secrets and wandering spirits disturbed the sleep of mortals. As a child of the night, born under a dark star, she had to learn to navigate this strange and disquieting world, guided by her keen senses and intuition.

The first years of Hakashi's life were marked by constant hardship. Her mother, deeply disturbed by her daughter's appearance and peculiarities, found it difficult to accept her condition. Despite this difficulty, her father remained a pillar of support, doing his best to surround Hakashi with his love and reassuring presence. The environment in which Hakashi grew up, however, made her existence even more complex. Her parents ran a cemetery, a place imbued with silence and mystery, where the boundary between life and death seemed constantly blurred.

In this cemetery, spirits wandered ceaselessly around Hakashi. Certain apparitions, with their frightening shapes and faces distorted by pain or anger, would have terrified any adult. For young Hakashi, small and vulnerable, these visions were a source of night terrors. Shadows swirled around her, their incessant murmuring filling the air with a palpable, oppressive presence.

It took several years for her parents to begin to understand their daughter's innate ability. It was a long road of misunderstandings and fragmentary discoveries. At first, they attributed Hakashi's nocturnal fears to simple childhood nightmares. But as time passed, they realized that these "nightmares" were in fact visions, glimpses of a world invisible to the eyes of the living.

The discovery of this ability turned their lives upside down. They understood that Hakashi was not just a different child, but a soul endowed with a rare and powerful gift. She could perceive the spirits that haunted their graveyard, interacting with them in a way that no one else could. This revelation brought a mixture of awe and fascination to her parents. For her mother, it finally explained the strange events surrounding her daughter's birth, while for her father, it reinforced his desire to protect and understand his precious child.

The nights remained difficult, populated by whispers and disquieting figures, her only companions were the spirits who had seen her born. They watched her with benevolent, sometimes malevolent curiosity, and taught her the secrets of an invisible world. Hakashi learned to listen to the voices of darkness, to sense evanescent presences and to understand the messages of ghosts.

In this life woven of darkness and occult light, Hakashi Reita, child of the night, forged her destiny, inseparable from the shadows that had welcomed her from her earliest hours.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Patronus : The butterfly patronus represents transformation and rebirth, a flowing free spirit. People with an inner butterfly are creative, it flowing out of them like a river, and their ideas tend to pile up on top of each other. They have a love for their own mind, and want to make sure it is constantly in use. They can be a bit scattered in this way, as they often fly from place to place mentally, starting on one thing before they finish another. They are sensitive and fragile, but their inner strength is still strong, and they can hold themselves up despite the blows they are given.

TRIVIA

𓀾 | Hakashi's highly-developed senses enable her to fully compensate for her blindness.

𓀾 | Her sense of touch enables her to read with her fingertips, sensing characters printed on a sheet of paper; her skin also enables her to feel changes in temperature or pressure in the atmosphere around her. In this way, she can detect the presence of a person - apart from her other senses - at a distance of around 1.50 meters, thanks to the heat given off by that person.

𓀾 | Thanks to her sense of smell, she can identify a person by smell if she has spent at least 10 minutes with him. It's strong enough for her to know their approximate position. After practicing this skill for so long, she has acquired the ability to sense emotions as well as follow objects, humans or living beings over long distances. (She’s a dog)

𓀾 | Her hearing is so developed that she can hear a person's heartbeat over a distance of 10 meters and hear people whispering behind a wall. However, she can be disoriented by particularly loud and unexpected sounds.

𓀾 | Hakashi’s taste enables her to identify all the ingredients in a dish or drink.

𓀾 | She love to pop up behind students scaring the daylight out of them, coming out of the corner and « GRRAAHHRHRJAHR ».

𓀾 | Butterflies tend to follow her, and that wherever she is, butterflies will be there for absolutely no reason. What is actually fun is that butterflies are related to death.

𓀾 | She was hated at Mahoutokoro because she advertises her funeral parlor and refuses to help people who are about to die, because if that doesn't happen, who will she bury ? Business is business.

𓀾 | She’s that one friend that gives you oddly frightening fun facts. Facts that make you go « why does she know that? ».

𓀾 | Since her eyes are always closed, she sometimes falls asleep in class. When she's lucky, it passes.

This is Masahiro 👇🏻

[goddess-mixmi]

Battle Tendency Oc’s

Doing a bit of a reposts of my part 2 oc’s ( will do fan kids again)

Normani Artemis DeNile

Born October 25th (Scorpio) stands about 199 cm tall with the pillar mode of Psychokinesis, the ability to move things with her mind and enchantress like abilities. She is the Queen of her own pillar colony in northern Africa now known as Egypt in a sanctuary,she earned the nickname “Artemis the enchanted” from humans who sought to learn from her. She had two brothers but they’ve left and started their own families once their parents died and because she married Kars. Her and Kars relationship has a mutual understanding but he was far too obsessed with finding the stone to truly pay attention to her feelings. Before he left on his quest she fell pregnant gave birth while he was gone. Montero and Sza who were months apart. When he returned he apologized for his long absence and finally shows her the outside world but also used her to get back the stone from Lisa Lisa. Feeling betrayed she refused to help him any longer and decided to leave soon her colony advanced to its tribes she rules over ( Wakanda is my inspo). The great DeNile Ancestor is what she became. In a Au she ended up having four other children that was gradually raised by Kars too.

Selena Bia Rosa

Born April 9th ( aries) stands about 199cm tall and is the wife of Esidisi, her pillar mode is stone goddess which is the ability to harden her skin to that of stone. Her and Kars are natural enemies since the day they met as kids. She is the warrior of the tribe settled in Mexico and was supposed to become warrior chief like her dad was but when she returned home everyone was killed except for you young cousin Santana, little Wammu, her husband and Kars. Finding out they caused the massacre she was angry. Later down the line she met Normani and the two have been best friends ever since and Selena birthed Camila. She always warned Normani of how selfish Kars was. During BT she is unable to fight due to finding out once again she was pregnant with her sons Luis and Ozuna. She ends up leaving with Normani and became the leader of the mining tribe in the colony. She also found out about her brother continuing the Rosa lineage once she met her descendant Angelina Rosa.

Here’s a visual of her pillar mode

Amara

Born in the month of February stands about 6’3, the love pillar. She is Queen Normani’s one and only trusted advisor in her royal court, has helped her rule when her parents passed and encouraged her to pursue a life of love and happiness with Kars and ensures her that she may have a few obstacles in the way but love will prevail. She most definitely the Cupid of the pillar men species and wise beyond her years, she dies palm readings to predict future love lives for others. She is able to grow winds on her back and has specialized arrows made of light that can affect the emotions of the person hit with them and regular arrows as well.

Cardi B

Born to the name Bacardi on October 11th is known as that Storm pillar. A royal from Normani’s court from a Nigerian and Dominican background but despite her cool atmospheric appearance she’s quite wild and loves a good fight. She enjoys to eat and indulges in drinking too. She fell in love with Wammu after realizing how calm and a honorable man he truly is. Her pillar mode allows her to control weather phenomena with a flick of her wrist and the pointing of her spear. She gained the nickname Oya after the storm goddess because she was just that good. She later down the lie before the events of Battle tendency had a son named TLC.

Cleopatra DeNile- Speedwagon

Daughter of Robert E.O. Speedwagon and Rosemary DeNile, her mother died giving birth to her leaving Speedwagon to raise her on his own until he met his husband Winston. She was born a Virgo on August 31st 1918 and as a little girl she never too hamon training seriously until she was sent to learn from Lisa Lisa. She has a crush on Caesar Zeppeli but jokes around too much to be taken seriously by him. She only found out recently about her pillar man ancestral connections when meeting Normani during the fight to achieve the stone. Once Speedwagon dies she runs the foundation alongside her husband Ceaser. She has more closer connections to my 21st century Denile linage.

Here is Magnoila ( already posted her)