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habit-poxly · 1 year

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father neptune (pt.1)

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

sea monster-hunter au!

description: Ghost is a crew member aboard the Bravo 141, a large sea monster hunting ship with decades of battle experience. Upon docking in a small, remote island the crew of the ship are warned by the locals of a spirit that wanders the beach at night- waiting to drag unsuspecting passersby into the depths of the ocean. Disregarding the villagers cautions, they stay the night; unknowingly invading another ghosts haunting ground.

warnings: alcohol, no sea monsters in this pt >:( , harpoon, strong horror elements

word count: 4.1k

masterpost | Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt.3

The year is 1809. Simon Riley -better known as 'The Ghost of the Sea' by other monster-hunting vessels- was a member of the crew on the Bravo 141, a large three-mass ship. In the earlier years of the vessel Simon and his crew would be out for months, travelling the open waters in search of high-bounty kills. Yet over the past couple of years, after the loss of crew, friends and family over and over, after the deep wounds that have changed the survivor's bodies forever, after taking beatings and battering- the crew had decided to begin to slow down. Their once bustling crew now reduced to just four: Captain Price, Ghost, Gaz and Soap. It was more honest work now, mostly just drifting their large hunting ship up and down the coastline looking for creatures that wandered too far in; nothing like the massive firefights and battles of their heyday.

As of recently they had been using the same route, taking them sailing into the same small port village for minimal supplies and trading every journey- It had been the Captain's favourite stop and it was not difficult to see why. The coastline would dip and rise, falling into beautiful rocky beaches and climbing into sharp, nearly completely vertical cliff faces. The out of place looking dock was wonderfully maintained and big enough for them to dock, the small bay it rested in deep and void of undercurrents. The lighthouse was always in working order despite the Bravo 141 being the only ship to regularly pass through other than a few small personal vessels. Inside the village was quaint- only a hand full of buildings scattered distantly across the hilly, grassy landscape. The crew only ever saw a handful of people about- there was almost always a few men in the pub, maybe they'd see one or two men walking through the winding dirt road that lead from the dock into the village centre, but never any children or women- always just older men. They had found it odd, yet they were so few people living in this area the crew had presumed the men shipped their families off for education on the mainland- or perhaps none of these men had anyone at all.

They had never stayed for more than a few hours during daylight, never having needed to do anything except resupply and head to the dusty pub. The old men inside would tell tall tales on end of a ghost that haunts the coast, walking up and down the beach with a lantern in hand looking for men to drag into the sea to claim for her own. No man on their small crew of 4 was superstitious despite their odd profession- the only ghost they knew to be real was the Ghost who draws their sails, aims their harpoons, and sleeps soundlessly in his bunk. The local's warnings went firmly unheeded by the experienced monster hunters, quickly being discounted as fiction and promptly made fun of, becoming something of an inside joke amongst the crew. After all, they had faced beasts larger then their ship- no ghost, no woman, no chance of death was anything to fear.

After a particularly gruelling chase and fight, the ship had come up empty-handed. The giant, grey monster they had wrapped in their net managing to wiggle free and dive back down into the deep, refusing to resurface. The creature itself hadn't caused any incidents yet- but was massively large with thick rows of razor-sharp teeth, a beast deserving of a hefty bounty. They had suffered three weeks of tracking, chasing and running in circles only to limp back to the only port near empty-handed was a unignorable blow to the crew. The journey home would be long and tedious, far too long to not rest beforehand. Yet the closest large port was days away in Dublin- in the opposite direction of London, where they were located. It was a simple decision, they'd stay in port for a few nights- possibly a few weeks if they could find a bed in town- and enjoy the peace of the cliffside while they recuperate.

Sunday evening air blew a chilled but comfortable breeze over the ocean, the ship softly bobbing up and down in the calm water of the bay. As night fell, the men gathered on the ship's front bow for a few drinks as they did often, looking out into the pitch-black landscape ahead of them. They had gone into town earlier in the evening to head to the pub- only to find it closed and the town completely dark. It appeared that all the villagers had turned their lights out the moment darkness had settled over the landscape.

"It's odd, yeah? They must really believe this place is haunted." Gaz hummed, swirling a glass of whiskey in hand as he leaned over the ship railing. The group of men had long abandoned properly putting on their gear, settling for tunics, breeches and leather boots- all except Soap who still managed to pull enjoyment out of dressing extravagantly.

"Turnin' out all their lights like that is making it worse. They're scarin' themselves." Price quips with a scoff, drunkenly slurring his words "Hysterical, the lot of em" With a wave of his hand he refills his own glass and takes a long sip. Simon could swear the drink in his hand had to be his 5th or 6th since they started- everyone else having had about the same. It wasn't uncommon to see the men aboard heavily intoxicated while no work needed to be done, it happened almost every evening recently in fact. There were never any conversations over sensitive topics, everything felt far too tender, and drinking was the welcomed substitution.

"Even if there was a lass walkin' up the beach lookin' for poor bastards to drag in- they could just not go to the beach at night, right?" A wide, cocky grin stretches across Soap's face at his words, face flushed red from the booze. "Would solve the whole issue... And they can keep the lights on."

Simon had half been paying attention to the conversation happening beside him, his focus mainly on the swishing of the liquid in his cup. The whole thing was ridiculous to him, anyways. Giving it any thought at all was a waste of energy, yet the others had been speaking endlessly about it. Out of habit, he readjusts the piece of cloth covering the lower half of his face- messy blond hair sticking up in every direction. Perhaps that's why Gaz and Soap had insisted they had drinks on deck tonight- to watch for the ghost. Simon guesses Price was just as interested- as he did nothing to stop it, even bringing out his nice whiskey glasses. The only light for miles was what was softly radiating off the lanterns and candles scattered across the vessel, making focusing on anything but the black outline of a shore and waves very difficult. During the evenings when the moon is covered, the ocean swallows any light, making everything below a pitch-black void.

"Can't be that simple, bastards must have a reason to be actin' this way." Ghost grunts taking a swig from his glass, eyes fixating on the ground. The ship's floorboards creaked under his weight as he shifted, leaning his back against the ship railing.

"Wait- fuck. Look." Gaz loosens the collar of his red tunic and points down the shore to a small, glowing yellow dot. "Someone's on the beach with a lantern all the way down there- didn't even see it 'till now" Gaz announces, gathering everyone's attention to where he was looking. About 500 yards from the ship was the soft silhouette of a woman- wearing a long, loose white dress that hung heavy from the waist down with water. The light from the flame inside wasn't enough to shape any distinct features from her- just her clear outline. She wasn't facing them, not at the moment, her gaze was turned out to sea- ankle-deep in the no doubt freezing ocean water.

"Someone's fucking with us. One of those bastards from the pub." Soap grumbles, his body leaning over the boat in an attempt to get a better look. Price nodded, taking another long sip.

For a moment Simon can see why the people in town would be frightened, seeing her there was certainly jarring against the jagged black rocks and swirling waves. She looked like a woman, a real, human woman standing in ankle-deep water.

"I don't think so." Simon says, voice deep and tense. Shuffling closer to the edge he focuses on the figure. Silence falls over the crew as she takes another step deeper into the water, it reaches up to her knees now. The bottom of her loose white dress bubble to the surface- riding on top of the waves.

She wasn't bothering them, nor had she called out for their attention in any way, she was just standing on the beach alone. Maybe she was a real person who was just someone who liked to linger, or maybe she was a ghost- haunting the beach waiting for one of them to drunkenly wander to her so she can take them away.

"Creepy." Gaz hum's, leaning back onto the ship. "If she gets any closer I'm going to shit my pants." The men chuckle, quickly brushing off the instance as all three turn back to the table on the deck. Quickly the topic is discarded, the group arriving at the conclusion that it was nothing worth worrying about. The men begin a game of cards, enjoying the pleasant evening and indulging in, even more, liquor- yet Simon can't help but stay glued to the railing watching the woman in the water. After a few moments still, she takes a few steps back onto the beach, the sound of the metal clanks from the lantern managing to reach the ship. There she stays, feet planted to the ground facing the open ocean.

Loud laughter busts out behind him, the smell of liquor wafting over the ship as the volume increases. Ghost nearly flinches when he watches the woman's head snap towards him, her gaze no doubt locked on his form. She raises her hand and turns off the flickering blaze- plunging the beach back into complete darkness, shielding her completely. If she hadn't been aware they were watching her, she was now. He straightens, eyes running over the dark area in an attempt to catch her figure again; yet he doesn't. No shadows of movement flicker, no sounds of footsteps are heard, it was as if she had simply vanished from her spot.

"She's gone." Simon said flatly turning back to the group, he hears Soap choking down a hardy laugh as he hiccups. "Like she walked away?" He asks, Scottish accent thick with drunkenness.

"No. She turned the light off. I can't see her anymore." He replies sternly hands gripping the railing in front of him tightly. It was worth no mental energy, he had told himself, yet still, he sat there with eyes mulling over the dark evening for the ghost's figure.

"Creepy!" Gaz says again shaking his head, the three men glance at Price who simply shrugs. "Suppose we could head down and see."

Gaz and Soap visibly tense, quickly exchanging glances. "All of us, Captian?" Gaz asks.

Once again he shrugs. "Doubt it's anything more than a woman on an evening walk, I'd like to get out for a walk myself." He says placing down his glass and beginning to walk to the main floor of the ship to disembark, he wobbled slightly in his steps- yet it was nothing anyone was worried about, the rest of them were nearing that point themselves.

The three other men quickly grab their things, following the Captian wherever he decides to take them. Soap had grabbed a harpoon while exiting the ship, earning a stern look from both John and Simon. Silently, the men made their way down the dock and onto the empty beach. From this vantage point, the ground was much clearer, yet still far from perfectly visible.

" 'right." Price grunts, adjusting his light and turning in the direction they had seen the woman. A thick fog had seemed to begin to quickly rush in covering the path ahead in a thick sheet of it. "Why'd you bring that stupid harpoon anyways?" He raises an eyebrow, half turning to the man behind him. Price was leading the way, followed shortly by Gaz and Soap and lastly Ghost lingering behind at the back. The sound of boots displacing the rocks that covered the ground echoed off the tall wall-like cliff beside them. If she wasn't wearing shoes Simon doubts they'd be able to hear her footsteps- and that was more than likely.

" 's for protection!' Soap held it up proudly, earning a chuckle from the group.

"From the ghost? That'll come in real handy." Simon grumbles and rolls his eyes, Soap stopped and turned back to him- it only takes a few moments for the two to meet and begin walking together.

"Only you said it might be a ghost, Ghost." The man smirks, fixing his gaze back on Price.

"Didn't think you were the faithful type, Simon." John muses- a large, drunken grin steadfast across his face-, holding the small light strong in front. Simon wasn't faithful- sure: he had been raised protestant, had gone to church every Sunday his parents made him, had been a choir boy at the city chapel, but he was never faithful. The word held no meaning to him, he had seen the sea swallow many good, capable men,-in his youth he had prayed to women, to bourbon, to money and what it could buy but the only god he prayed to nowadays was Father Neptune. Silent prayers for safe passage leaving every dock, every harbour. No one knows he does it but him, but Simon was never 'faithful', or at least he'd never admit it out loud.

Yet, clearly, someone haunts these shores. His personal stalking ground was elsewhere- just beyond the breaking waves not two meters from him. This was someone's place they came to pray, he was sure of it. He had hoped their God had been merciful to them, but their pacing of the shore begged to tell a different, more unsettling story. What pain must they have gone through to be so tortured? No person could force him to suffer a fate as he imagines hers to have been- perhaps her story had concluded, and she was left scattered in the aftermath. A ghost like him was difficult to come by, regardless of if they were of the flesh.

" 'm not." He replies sternly, it was more than controversial to not follow the crown faith, especially after the rise of Napoleon, yet all men who stepped onto the deck of a hunting vessel such as their own would no doubt leave an atheist. Simon had lost his faith long before that ship, though; it dwindled over time as experience after experience cast chisel marks into the stone.

"But you believe in ghosts?" Gaz quips, chuckling softly. Simon shakes his head, deciding to end the conversation where it stood.

As the group slowly stumbled further down the beach, it was clear inebriation had begun to make the trek undoable, Soaps steps swaying- feeling slipping over the large rocks that bade the beach- Price and Gaz were not much better. Simon hadn't drunk nearly as much, feeling far more capable here than the others must have.

Suddenly, Price stops and motions for them to be quiet, causing the men behind him to go rigid. Almost instantly upon the silence settling over them, they heard it.

Coming loudly from a dark dip in the rock face ahead echoed soft, haunting cry’s- a woman's voice spattered and sobbed, merciless noises racking from the cave and bouncing down the beach. It was as if she was in agony, as if she had lost something so unbelievably valuable to the dark waters that she would never recover, she would walk in mourning forever. The wailing grows louder the more small steps forward Price takes sending shivers down the spines of the men.

"Hello?" He drunkenly calls out, receiving no response. The crying doesn't fade, instead staying at the same level of distress. John calls out again, this time a decent bit louder while taking a few steps closer.

"You 'right?" Soap screams louder, his voice bouncing off the walls of the cliffside and bringing the crying to a sudden stop. After shooting Soap sharp glances the men sit in dark silence for more than a comfortable amount of time- frozen, waiting for any other noise. But when none come Price scoffs.

"This is definitely someone fucking with us, Cap." Gaz asserts, taking a wide step back in the direction of the boat. "Let's just go." His face quickly dissolved into a look of worry, he moves to grip the Captain's shoulder with his hand but Price takes a staggered step back.

" 's not a thing to worry about, son." The man shakes his head and takes a few more steps toward the cove.

Simon steps forward, walking after John slowly. "Come on, let's go." There was a threatening tone to his voice. Gaz and him exchanged looks, both now suffering from the same sinking feeling. "John, come on." Simon says again, it coming out as a plea this time, Price now walking full speed towards the entrance to the cove, light held out in front of him.

The three men paused as John stood outside the entrance, placing his lantern down onto the beach he calls into the cave again, receiving yet again no response. Simon watches him place his two hands on the rock walls of the cove and lean his head in to look around.

"You 'right in there, love?" Price slurs out. For a moment, theres nothing- no noise, no movement, just the crashing of the waves and the breeze through the rocks.

Two hands shoot out from the darkness of the cove, violently shoving John's chest. Frantically he slaps the hands away and lets out a loud, terrified scream and sending him reeling back. The hands retreat back into the darkness, the sound of footsteps echoing from inside stop as suddenly as they start. Price falls onto the rocks with a loud thud, eyes wide and face panicked- he isn't on the ground for more then a second before he begins sprinting back in the direction boat, running straight past the group and losing both loosely tied boots in the process. Gaz and Soap are quick to follow, immediately retreating with the Captain with frantic screams. In the panic the Harpoon clinks to the ground, abandoned. The footsteps fade as they disappear into the fog- not even the light from the ship was visible anymore.

Simon, though, had remained locked in place, eyes fixed on the cove's entrance. He had seen his crew scared, he had seen these men say final goodbyes to each other on rough missions, had seen them face death and accept it, yet this had terrified them. Sent them running with tails between their legs. It was the booze, Simon told himself, the booze they drank at nausea every night finally driving them all mad. He had no reason for staying, no reason for standing motionless and weaponless outside the cave in wait, his breath ragged and heart thumping in his ears.

Slowly the crying begins again, sniffles growing to silent sobs.

"Leave now aswell, Man." The woman’s voice staggered out through hiccuped breaths. Despite the demand, her voice sat hollow and soft- only audible due to the echo of the cliffside. "Less I drag you into the deep." Her words seemed unsure, as if she staggered over saying them.

"You'll drown me?" Simon takes another step forward, as if guided to her by her voice- as if she was pulling a string attached to him and dragging him forward.

"Begone, Ghost." The woman's gentle voice pleaded.

"Me? I? The ghost? Out of the two of us?" He muses, a nervous smirk settling across his covered features. "Only you haunt these beaches, only your lantern lights these shores, you are the ghost. You've earned the title far more than I."

"Leave me be, sailor, I beg." Her voice tightened as he further approached, not deterring his speed. "You'll be cursed if you come any closer, I'll swear it!" She began to sputter another sob, the sound of which echoed down the length of the beach. By the time she had finished and Simon had paused it was too late, him standing beside the small entrance- close enough to rest the bare palm of his hand against the cool rock.

"I am cursed." He huffs, the scent of booze wafted off of him. Simon stood in spot for a moment, thinking over the night's events as clearly as he could. "Tell me 'ghost', what will you do if I've always been cursed?" He hum's, a drunken smile plastering his face.

The crying quiets at his statement, leaving only the sound of the gentle evening waves in its wake.

"I'm sorry you have always been cursed." The voice responds, tenderly, far too tenderly to be meant for him.

The salty night air blew easily threw his thin clothes- the oceans breeze nipping at the little skin he had exposed. Distantly, a panicked voice calls his name- Price, he imagines; finally sobered up enough to realize the possible severity of the situation. Turning back his eyes scan over the still lingering fog.

What was he even still doing here?

Why had his feet remained in place- why had he been drawn into her? Why did he want to stay?

A sudden wave of nausea washes over him, his face suddenly heating and his gut turning in his body unbearably. Turning back, as if broken from a spell, his feet move on their own- sending him barreling down the beach towards the Captain's increasingly frantic yells. In what felt like a blurry instant, Simon was hung over the balcony of the boat, the evening's dinner -a worrying amount of alcohol- lost to the ocean tide. Soap had rushed to his side, Gaz tending to Price who was currently sprawled out on his back across the main deck.

"Fuck! Fuck." Soap grunted. "What the fuck was that? Ghost, what happened?!" His voice was frantic, clearly having sobered up the most out of all of them.

"I don't- I-" Regardless of how hard he fought, how hard he tried to formulate a proper sentence- he just couldn't. Vomit stained the front of his black tunic, face covering abandoned somewhere on the ship deck

"You broken?" Soap asks, the worry on his face melting into a strained smile as Simon shakes his head no. Soap patted him on the back before turning his attention to the -now passed out- Captain. The four of them managed to hobble into the sleeping quarters and retire safely for the evening- not before Soap pulled the plank they used to exit the boat off the dock.

When the sun rose, the men were up as always. There was a brief discussion of the previous night's events, but with Simon and Price's aversion to speaking about it Soap and Gaz quickly stopped asking questions. The line of conversation concludes with Price grumbling about losing his boots. Swearing obscenities and curses non-stop. Apparently that morning he had gone down to the shore himself and found nothing, not a trace of anyone had been there. Of them nor a woman. He had said to Simon in private that the tide must have eaten everything, yet Simon knew Price well enough to tell something was bothering him about it.

In spite of hangovers, the crew went about their daily business of upkeep and cleaning, quickly deciding to visit the pub as soon as it opened. By the time they were staggering back to the ship, it was well past 7 in the evening; with the sun about half an hour from setting, the men had felt silently rest assured of their eventless walk through the beach. As the group approaches the dock, they notice Price's pace in front begins to slow to a halt.

"Captian?" Gaz calls, eyes scanning Price. Yet, the captain's eyes stay coldly locked onto the dock.

Pushing past Soap, Simon takes a few steps closer, eyes intently trailing Price's gaze. There, on the top step of the dock, were Price's boots and lantern- shoelaces tied and delicately placed. The men stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, the captain's gaze intensely glaring down the dock.

After a deep breath in, the captain lets out a strained chuckle, the crow's feet beside his eyes wrinkling under the forced smile. He turns his gaze to Gaz, who looks down the dock with a confused look.

"You're right-" Price strains, smile draped across his face yet eyes void of such emotion. "Creepy."

Soap pushes forward, being the first to approach the dock.

"The harpoon is still missing." He notes, turning back to face the group. The captain's lips pull into a tight frown before nodding and beginning to walk to the dock himself.

Regardless of their previous plan- Simon imagines they'll be back in London sooner than they had anticipated.

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sunshinesmebdy · 3 months

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Moon in Sagittarius: Bold Moves and Financial Optimism in Business

The Moon, in astrology, represents our emotions, intuition, and sense of security. When it transits through the fiery sign of Sagittarius, a spirit of optimism and adventure takes hold. We become more expansive in our thinking, eager to explore new frontiers and take calculated risks. This can be a potent time for business and finance, as it fuels our drive for growth and fosters a “big picture” perspective.

Positive Influences for Business

Innovation and Expansion: The Moon in Sagittarius ignites our creative spark. This is a prime time to brainstorm new ideas, launch ventures, or explore uncharted territories in your business. The Moon’s transit through Sagittarius ignites a potent blend of optimism, curiosity, and a thirst for adventure. This unique astrological alignment can be a game-changer for businesses, particularly when it comes to innovation and expansion. Let’s delve deeper into how you can harness this dynamic energy:

Unleashing the Creative Spark:

Brainstorming sessions: The Moon in Sagittarius sparks unconventional thinking and out-of-the-box solutions. Gather your team for brainstorming sessions, encouraging open communication and free-flowing ideas. Don’t be afraid to consider seemingly “out there” concepts — some of the most groundbreaking innovations stemmed from challenging the status quo.

Embrace new perspectives: Encourage diverse perspectives within your team. Sagittarius thrives on exploration and learning from different viewpoints. Consider collaborating with individuals from outside your industry or conducting market research to gain fresh insights and identify new opportunities.

Launching New Ventures:

Market testing: The Moon in Sagittarius fosters a willingness to take calculated risks. If you’ve been contemplating launching a new product, service, or even an entirely new business venture, this period might be the green light you’ve been waiting for. Conduct thorough market research to mitigate risks, but don’t be afraid to take the leap when the data aligns with your vision.

Piloting and testing: Embrace experimentation. Pilot your new venture on a smaller scale before committing full resources. This allows you to refine your approach, gather valuable feedback, and minimize potential losses while maximizing the chances of success.

Exploring Uncharted Territories:

Entering new markets: Sagittarius is associated with expansion and global thinking. If you’ve been considering entering new markets, domestically or internationally, this transit can provide the impetus to move forward. Conduct thorough research on the target market, comply with local regulations, and build strategic partnerships to increase your chances of success.

Investing in new technologies: The Moon in Sagittarius encourages embracing innovation. Explore how emerging technologies can be integrated into your business operations to improve efficiency, reach new customers, or streamline processes. Remember, conduct due diligence and weigh the potential benefits against the risks before making any significant investments.

Networking and Collaboration: Sagittarius thrives on connection. Leverage this energy to network with potential partners, build relationships with clients, and expand your reach. The Moon’s journey through Sagittarius ignites a fire within us, urging us to connect, collaborate, and expand our horizons. This period is exceptionally well-suited for networking, building relationships, and expanding your reach in the business world. Here’s how to leverage this cosmic energy:

Networking Events:

Attend industry gatherings and conferences: The Moon in Sagittarius fuels your desire to connect with like-minded individuals. Attend industry events, conferences, or trade shows to broaden your network, meet potential partners, and stay up-to-date on industry trends.

Seek out online communities: Sagittarius thrives in vibrant online spaces. Join industry-specific forums, online groups, or social media communities to connect with professionals from around the world, share ideas, and build relationships.

Building Strong Client Relationships:

Focus on building rapport: Sagittarius values authentic connection. Take the time to understand your clients’ needs and build genuine relationships with them. This fosters loyalty and trust, leading to long-term business partnerships.

Host networking events: Organize client appreciation events or industry meet-and-greets. This provides a platform to connect with clients on a personal level, strengthen relationships, and build a sense of community.

Expanding Your Reach:

Collaborate with complementary businesses: Sagittarius seeks synergy and collaboration. Partner with businesses that complement your offerings to expand your reach and tap into new customer segments. Ensure the collaboration is mutually beneficial and aligns with your overall business strategy.

Explore strategic partnerships: Look for opportunities to partner with established organizations in your industry. This can lend credibility to your business, open doors to new markets, and accelerate your growth.

Financial Optimism: The Moon in Sagittarius fosters a sense of abundance and optimism regarding finances. You might be more receptive to investments or feel a surge in confidence when negotiating deals. The Moon’s transit through the sign of Sagittarius brings a wave of optimism not just to business ventures but also to our financial outlook. This doesn’t necessarily translate to guaranteed riches, but it does create a positive mindset that can be harnessed to make sound financial decisions. Let’s explore how this manifests:

Sense of Abundance:

Increased belief in prosperity: The Moon in Sagittarius fosters a positive outlook on the future. This can lead to a stronger belief in our ability to achieve financial goals, motivating us to take calculated risks and pursue opportunities for growth.

Gratitude for what you have: Sagittarius is associated with appreciation and gratitude. By acknowledging our current blessings, we shift our focus from what we lack to the abundance that already exists in our lives. This positive mindset attracts more positive results, fostering a cycle of abundance.

Openness to Investments:

Exploring new opportunities: The Moon in Sagittarius encourages us to step outside our comfort zones and explore new avenues. This can translate to increased willingness to consider investments that may have previously seemed intimidating.

Thorough research remains key: While the optimistic energy is positive, it’s crucial to conduct thorough research before making any investment decisions. Understand the risks involved, consult with financial advisors, and make informed choices based on your personal financial goals and risk tolerance.

Confidence in Negotiations:

Stronger negotiation skills: The Moon in Sagittarius instills a sense of confidence and self-belief. This can enhance your negotiation skills, allowing you to advocate for yourself and your business more effectively when it comes to pricing, contracts, or other financial negotiations.

Maintaining ethical principles: While confidence is crucial, maintain ethical integrity and avoid manipulating others. Focus on win-win solutions that benefit all parties involved, fostering long-term partnerships and building trust.

Tips for Harnessing the Moon in Sagittarius Energy

Think Big: Don’t be afraid to set ambitious goals. This transit encourages us to dream large and take calculated risks. The Moon’s sojourn through Sagittarius ignites a potent cocktail of optimism, courage, and a yearning for adventure. This astrological alignment is a prime time to set ambitious goals and step outside your comfort zone to achieve them. Here’s how to harness this powerful energy for audacious accomplishments:

Unleashing Your Inner Visionary:

Dream big: Sagittarius is all about thinking expansive and setting audacious goals. Don’t be afraid to dream big for your business or personal finances. What would your ideal scenario look like? What audacious goals can excite and motivate you? Write them down, visualize them vividly, and allow yourself to believe in their attainability.

Break down the big goals: While dreaming big is essential, it’s equally important to have a roadmap to success. Break down your long-term goals into smaller, achievable milestones. This will make them seem less daunting and provide a clear path forward.

Calculated Risks for Big Rewards:

Embrace calculated risks: The Moon in Sagittarius encourages us to be bold and take calculated risks. Don’t let the fear of failure hold you back. Analyze potential risks, create a contingency plan, and take a measured leap of faith towards your ambitious goals. Remember, sometimes the greatest rewards lie just beyond our comfort zones.

Don’t be reckless: While calculated risks are encouraged, avoid being reckless. Sagittarius may nudge you to be impulsive, but it’s important to strike a balance between boldness and prudence. Carefully consider the potential consequences before taking any significant actions.

Fueling Your Ambition with Knowledge:

Knowledge is power: The centaur, Sagittarius’s symbol, represents the union of wisdom and the wild archer. Fuel your ambition with knowledge. Research, take courses, and surround yourself with mentors who can guide you on your journey. The more prepared you are, the more confident you’ll feel in taking on ambitious goals.

Embrace Learning: Sagittarius is a lifelong learner. Take this opportunity to expand your knowledge through courses, conferences, or attending industry events. The Moon’s journey through the inquisitive and expansive sign of Sagittarius ignites a burning desire for knowledge and growth. This period is a golden opportunity to embrace lifelong learning and equip yourself with the skills and knowledge necessary to achieve your ambitious goals.

Rekindle Your Inner Student:

Embrace curiosity: Sagittarius is naturally curious and thrives on exploring new concepts and ideas. Reconnect with your inner student and cultivate a genuine curiosity about the world around you. Ask questions, seek out new information, and challenge your existing assumptions.

Lifelong learning mindset: Shift your perspective from viewing learning as a chore to embracing it as a continuous journey of growth and self-discovery. This mindset will keep you motivated and engaged in the learning process.

Explore Diverse Learning Avenues:

Courses and workshops: Enroll in courses or workshops related to your field, personal interests, or specific goals you want to achieve. The vast array of online and offline learning options allows you to tailor your learning experience to your preferences and schedule.

Industry events and conferences: Attend industry events, conferences, or trade shows relevant to your business or profession. These events offer opportunities to learn from experts, network with like-minded individuals, and stay up-to-date on the latest trends and innovations.

Learning Beyond the Classroom:

Read extensively: Sagittarius is drawn to knowledge, and reading can be a powerful tool for expanding your horizons. Explore books, articles, and online resources related to your interests or areas you want to learn more about.

Seek mentors and advisors: Surround yourself with individuals who possess the knowledge and experience you aspire to. Seek mentors or advisors who can guide you on your learning journey, offer valuable insights, and challenge you to think critically.

Delegate and Collaborate: Don’t try to do everything yourself. Leverage the collaborative spirit of Sagittarius by delegating tasks and fostering teamwork within your business. The Moon’s transit through the expansive and collaborative sign of Sagittarius encourages us to move beyond our limitations and achieve more through collaboration. This is a prime time to delegate tasks effectively and leverage the strengths of your team to propel your business forward. Here’s how to harness this powerful energy:

Recognizing the Power of Collaboration:

Strength in numbers: Sagittarius thrives on community and working together towards a common goal. By delegating tasks and collaborating with others, you can tap into a wider range of expertise, perspectives, and energy, leading to more creative and effective solutions.

Building trust and fostering ownership: Effective delegation isn’t just about assigning tasks; it’s about building trust and fostering a sense of ownership among team members. Delegate tasks that align with individuals’ strengths and interests, allowing them to contribute meaningfully and take pride in their work.

Effective Delegation Strategies

Clear communication: Before delegating, ensure clear communication by outlining the task, desired outcomes, and any relevant information. This empowers team members to understand their responsibilities and complete the task successfully.

Empowerment and autonomy: Don’t micromanage. While providing guidance is crucial, trust your team members with the autonomy to execute the task using their best judgment. This fosters creativity, problem-solving skills, and a sense of ownership.

Leveraging Diverse Skills and Perspectives:

Identify individual strengths: Recognize the unique skills and strengths of each team member. Delegate tasks that leverage their individual talents and expertise to maximize efficiency and effectiveness.

Embrace diverse perspectives: Sagittarius values openness to different viewpoints. Encourage brainstorming sessions and open communication to foster a collaborative environment where diverse perspectives are valued and can lead to innovative solutions.

Words of Caution:

Overconfidence: While optimism is good, be wary of becoming overly confident. Do your due diligence before making significant financial decisions. The Moon’s journey through optimistic and adventurous Sagittarius can be a double-edged sword when it comes to finances. While it fosters a positive outlook and increased belief in one’s abilities, it also carries the pitfall of overconfidence. Here’s how to navigate this astrological influence and make sound financial decisions:

Recognizing the Signs of Overconfidence:

Undue optimism: Be wary of unrealistic expectations. While optimism is crucial, don’t let it cloud your judgment regarding potential risks or uncertainties.

Ignoring red flags: Overconfidence can lead to overlooking crucial information or dismissing potential problems. Remain vigilant and don’t ignore any red flags that may arise during your research or decision-making process.

Relying solely on intuition: While intuition can be valuable, it shouldn’t be the sole factor in financial decisions. Always complement your intuition with thorough research and sound financial analysis.

Mitigating the Risks of Overconfidence:

Conduct thorough due diligence: Before making any significant financial decisions, conduct thorough research and due diligence. This involves evaluating investment opportunities, researching companies, and comparing different options to make informed choices.

Seek professional advice: Don’t hesitate to consult with financial advisors or experts for guidance and professional insights. They can help you analyze your financial situation, identify potential risks, and make sound investment decisions.

Maintain a healthy dose of skepticism: Approach any financial opportunity with a healthy dose of skepticism. Question everything, seek different perspectives, and avoid making impulsive decisions based solely on optimism.

Striking a Balance with Optimism:

Channel optimism into preparation: The positive energy of Sagittarius can be channeled into comprehensive planning and preparation. Use your optimism to envision your financial goals but ground them in realistic expectations and thorough research.

Celebrate small wins: Maintaining a positive outlook is crucial. Celebrate your financial successes, no matter how small, to stay motivated and keep your optimism in check.

Learn from past mistakes: Everyone makes financial missteps. Use them as learning experiences to refine your decision-making process and avoid repeating the same mistakes in the future.

Impulsiveness: Sagittarius’ impulsive nature can lead to rash decisions. Take your time, analyze all options, and avoid getting swept away by fleeting enthusiasm. The Moon’s transit through the fiery and adventurous sign of Sagittarius can ignite a spark of impulsiveness. While this energy can be a catalyst for bold action, it can also lead to rash decisions with negative consequences, especially when it comes to business and finances. Here’s how to navigate this astrological influence and make thoughtful choices:

Recognizing the Signs of Impulsiveness:

Urgency to act: Sagittarius’ impulsive nature can manifest as a sudden urge to act without considering all the options. Be wary of decisions made under pressure or driven by a fleeting sense of enthusiasm.

Ignoring potential risks: In the throes of impulsiveness, we might gloss over potential drawbacks or fail to adequately assess risks. Pay attention to any red flags that may arise during your decision-making process.

Overlooking details: The urge to act quickly can lead to neglecting crucial details. Ensure you gather all the necessary information and don’t allow excitement to cloud your judgment regarding the finer points.

Strategies to Curb Impulsiveness:

Implement a waiting period: Before making any significant decision, especially financial ones, impose a waiting period. This allows the initial excitement to subside and provides time for rational analysis and a more balanced perspective.

Seek a second opinion: Discuss your decision with a trusted friend, colleague, or financial advisor. Their objective perspective can help you identify potential blind spots and ensure you’re considering all the angles.

Create a pros and cons list: This classic technique can be a powerful tool during the Moon in Sagittarius transit. Write down the pros and cons of each option, allowing you to weigh the potential benefits and risks in a structured manner.

Channeling the Positive Energy:

Embrace the initial spark: The initial surge of enthusiasm ignited by Sagittarius can be a positive force. Use it to fuel your research and planning process. Channel your excitement into productive action that leads to well-considered decisions.

Transform impulsiveness into action: Sagittarius thrives on taking action. Instead of acting impulsively, transform that energy into productive action based on thoughtful analysis.

Focus on calculated risks: While impulsiveness is discouraged, Sagittarius encourages calculated risks. Once you’ve thoroughly analyzed a situation, don’t be afraid to take a well-measured leap of faith towards your goals.

Neglecting Details: The focus on the big picture might lead to overlooking crucial details. Ensure proper planning and follow-through to avoid pitfalls. The Moon’s journey through Sagittarius, with its emphasis on big ideas and expansive visions, can be a double-edged sword for business ventures. While it fosters innovation and exploration, it can also lead to overlooking crucial details that can derail even the most brilliant plans. Here’s how to strike a balance and ensure your big-picture thinking is supported by meticulous execution:

Recognizing When Details are Neglected:

Rushing the planning process: Sagittarius’ impulsive nature might lead to rushing the planning stage. Ensure you dedicate sufficient time to thoroughly analyze the situation and develop a comprehensive plan that addresses all potential issues.

Overlooking logistical challenges: In the excitement of a new idea, essential logistical details can be easily overlooked. Be mindful of operational challenges, resource limitations, and potential roadblocks that may hinder implementation.

Missing deadlines or overlooking commitments: The focus on the grand vision might lead to neglecting smaller deadlines or commitments. Ensure all tasks and milestones are clearly defined and tracked to maintain progress.

Strategies to Maintain Focus on Details:

Break down big goals into smaller steps: Sagittarius thrives on big ideas, but don’t get lost in the vastness. Break down your vision into smaller, achievable steps. This creates a roadmap for execution and ensures all critical details are addressed.

Develop a checklist system: Creating and utilizing checklists for each stage of your project can be a powerful tool. This ensures you haven’t overlooked any crucial aspects during the planning and execution phases.

Delegate tasks with detail-oriented individuals: Sagittarius is not known for meticulousness. Delegate tasks that require a keen eye for detail to individuals with complementary strengths.

Maintaining the Big Picture Perspective:

Don’t get bogged down in the details: While details are crucial, don’t lose sight of the overall vision and goals. Use detailed planning as a stepping stone, not a destination.

Balance planning with flexibility: In the spirit of Sagittarius’ adventurous nature, be prepared to adapt your plans as needed. Unforeseen circumstances may arise, so maintain a degree of flexibility while ensuring a solid foundation in place.

Celebrate progress, not just completion: Sagittarius’ optimistic energy thrives on celebration. Acknowledge and celebrate milestones along the way, not just the final completion of the project. This keeps the momentum going and fosters a culture of accomplishment.

Remember: Astrology is a tool for understanding our potential and navigating life’s cycles. While the Moon in Sagittarius brings a positive outlook for business, it’s important to remain grounded, make sound decisions, and leverage your intuition effectively.

Do you have any experiences with the Moon in Sagittarius transit? Share your thoughts in the comments below!

#moon in sagittarius #sagittarius moon #business astrology #astro posts #asteroid astrology #business horoscopes #astro notes #astro #astrology facts #astrology community #astrology #astro girlies #astrology observations #astropost #astro observations #astro community

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ccieatchildren · 1 year

Text

Bedridden

TW: Noncon Kissing

Whumper paced across the floor, his muttering filling the room. “I made sure to only make shallow cuts… how did they… the blood loss should’ve been minimal… where did they get it…” Whumpee’s eyes followed the way his curled finger tapped against his bottom lip.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Their mind was in a haze, the fever taking its toll on their body. All their limbs were sore, their throat was scratchy, and their wounds stung, creating an uncomfortable blend of symptoms that left Whumpee bedridden and exhausted.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Whumper had been waiting for their daily torture session, but Whumpee collapsed before he could even begin. They had been feeling queasy and more tired than usual throughout the week, but they had simply assumed it was the many hours spent in pain catching up to them. Whumper had also noticed, though didn’t say much, almost excited about something. It pissed them off how much enjoyment he got from their misery. He wouldn’t stop grinning at them when the early signs of sickness sprung forth. Though Whumper didn’t seem as happy now, the fever obviously was not what he had thought it was.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

They coughed weakly, jostling their still healing cuts, releasing a groan of pain. Whumper snapped his gaze to them, quickly walking over and resting the back of his hand on their forehead.

“I didn’t realize you were actually sick darling, I had thought that you…” he cut himself off before moving his hand to their cheek. “I promise to take care of you, hero. You’ll get better soon, and then we can continue our little games.” He moved, bringing Whumpee closer to him, resting against his body.

His words were comforting. Normally the mention of their torture sessions would send their heart racing and anxiety spiking, but, right now all they wanted was to get better, Whumpee didn’t care about the after.

Whumper’s cold hand was a nice offset to their burning skin. His gentle caresses reminded Whumpee of their mother’s care when they were sick. The way he held them to him, however, brought back the memory of Caretaker when they had gotten the flu after one of their winter missions.

They had spent the night staking out an illegal weapon trading ring, and though they had gotten what they were there for, Whumpee ended up sick after being out too long in the chilly air. They had mentally prepared themself to spend the next few days alone in their home, trying to make themself get better as quickly as possible. However, Caretaker showed up with homemade chicken noodle soup, planning to stay at Whumpee’s home to take care of them. Whumpee was initially reluctant, but Caretaker’s insistence of wanting to help prevented them from turning the other away.

Caretaker had spent the next three days at Whumpee’s apartment, cooking for them, giving them medicine, and soothing them to sleep. Whumpee had spent multiple nights curled up against her body, Caretaker’s fingers through their hair and gentle humming a comforting sensation. Caretaker had almost gotten sick herself, emphasizing the guilt Whumpee felt, but she brushed them off saying it was worth it. Whumpee was back to work quicker than they ever were when they were alone, and was much healthier. They guessed that’s when they truly fell in love with Caretaker. Her unwavering commitment to them, and desire to see them get better just from the kindness in her heart made Whumpee smitten with Caretaker.

It was almost like they was with her again.

Whumpee leaned into the touch, “Caretaker…”

The hand on their cheek stilled and Whumpee looked up in confusion before their face was roughly grabbed from both sides. Lips crashed down onto theirs, teeth knocking, and a tongue slipped into their mouth at their gasp of shock. Whumpee’s addled brain couldn’t keep up with the sudden change, their body even more sore from the sudden jerk.

What is happening?

The hands on their face fiercely tightened, almost clawing into their skin, refusing to let them go. The tongue exploring their mouth didn’t stop, sucking up all the air in their lungs. Whumpee’s arms moved to the chest in front of them, trying to push it off, when they finally registered where they were, and who they were with.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck!

Whumpee froze, letting him have his way, claiming their mouth for his own. How could they have been so stupid, to drift off and think of her when they were stuck here with him. Whumpee had already learned this lesson, had convinced him he was all they needed, and now all that went down the drain. One step forward, two steps back.

Whumpee reached up to wrap their arms around his neck hoping to placate him, but he pushed them away. Their lips were connected for a second longer until Whumper pulled his mouth from theirs, biting their bottom lip as one last marker. When Whumpee finally looked up at him, his eyes were dark, betrayal and fury shining through them. His fingers moved down to their neck,

“I will make sure you never forget who you’re with again, dearie.”

#intimate whumper #obsessive whumper #whump #possessive whumper #whumper x whumpee #☡#W #my writing #whumper #whumpee #hero x villain #hero #villian

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niseag-arts · 2 months

Text

Cal lore dump

you asked for this @systembug

words are hard and I might forget to include stuff so feel free to ask questions and thinfs. stuff under cut. also beware, there is drama and tragedy

physical discription, for things that don't show in art very much: Cal is Large, they were chubby as a baseline human and have maintained that general shape even through the process of augmentatin. four bladed legs and a pair of extra arms add some bulk as well. their 6 eye-lenses can be colour manipulated to emulate emotion, this aids in interacting with baseline humans. as a scholar of languages, they maintain organic airways. the rebreather can be removed to give access to their mouth. (the downside of this is they have developed a habit of stress-eating only to realise later that they do no longer have the digestive system to actually process the stuff they "ate" and having to clean out their systems). They have two servo-skulls made from goat skulls and a cyber-goat (it's like a cyber mastiff) that follows them around. it's a shredder for documents. Oh, yes, their robes are dark purple, hemmed in red.

Early life, pre joining the mechanicus:

Cal was recruited from an agri-world. this is where the goat skulls come from, they belonged to Cal's beloved pets that they refused to leave behind when the mechanicus recruited them. They were recruited for their talent with archeo- and xenolanguages

Training and life on Aberdeen-6:

Not much to say about Cal here because this was pretty standard fare. Instead, let me tell you about Aberdeen-6. My main fanmade forgeworld is Repleator. Cal is not from there. Instead they hail from Aberdeen-6, a forgeworld located far from any other systems, bordering the void of space. The planet has pridominant trading connections to the space shark marine chapter, and relies strongly on their archeotech. as to why they are out there in the void? they're using spykic energy to power their generators. the planet has a strangely high number of psykers born among their ranks, and they send them out to platforms in the void (where they will not accidentally destroy the planet if a deamon gets summoned) to harness their energy. it is unsure if this is entirely throne-sanctioned. Cal is loyalist, though, in case that needs to be specified.

life as a Magos Dominus:

Despite being a scholar first and foremost, Cal eventually found themselves being pushed into the role of a military leader. Aberdeen-6 was short on those in an attempt to protect the planet from an encroaching threat. Cal underwent all of the augmentations needed for a dominus to thrive on the battlefield: their mechadendrites were fitted with tasers, they were given a pair of extra arms that had guns instead of hands, and the bladed legs to move without bounce for steadier aim. They also got the noospheric connection to their skitarii, connecting them to their vid-feeds and allowing for tactical taking control if the need arises. Caledon although pretty softhearted, did surprisingly well. Their campaigns were not as quick or efficient as others, but they consistently brought back their troops with minimal losses and the morale in these troops was consistently higher than anywhere else. They even became a parental figure to their skitarii alpha, Rho, though Rho might have wished it to be more than that.

This came to an end when they suffered a thundering defeat, wiping their ranks. Cal will never forget seeing their skitarii die before them and feeling them disconnect from the noosphere while their vid-feed goes dark. They have a lot of survivor's guild about this, and their internal systems still occasionally send out connection requests for skitarii that will never be able to heed the call again. Caledon stepped down from the position as a magos dominus and had their body rebuild to be more suited to work as a lexmechanic.

Working as a Lexmechanic:

their proclivity with archeo and xenolanguage became cal's main tool of the trade as they transitioned away from the battlefield. their brain was augmented to be able to process multiple feeds of information at once. This also removed their need for true sleep: different aspects of Cal's brain will take turns to perform sleep functions. Cal now spends almost all their time in the archives, translating and transcribing sources. They are key in aiding explorator fleets to translate their findings, as well as help current magi understand writing on stc fragments.

It was while working on one of these that Cal encountered the scared and mentally broken Intervallum, a skitarius (oc belongs to @thatspacecato). Cal, upon seeing this skittle, in fear and distress basically went "no. not this one. I will protect this one" and intervallum has been hanging around them ever since. I will not elaborate on skittle lore much more, because I feel like that's not my place, but yeah

I think that's about everything there is to say about Cal, feel free to send asks or something if you wish :D

#admech oc #Cal Loredump #lexmechanic #i should be writing an essay #lore dump

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mithrilandvilya · 7 months

Text

The Loneliness of Kings

I decided to write this for @chicotfp as a small thank you for all your beautiful art creations. I hope many will enjoy this short tale.

Trade with Lake Town, or whatever other unimaginative name it went by now, was important for the Woodland Elves. The forest had limited material resources, and if he wanted better armor for his fighters, it was not to be found in the trees, but deep in the mountains. His people had long had minimal interactions with the dwarves, distrust built between them over generations of unresolved grievances. Dwarves held long grudges, and elves had long memories. But the Lake Town men eagerly remained the neutral trade intermediaries for metal from the mountains as well as what they could grow and hunt at the lake shores that didn’t thrive in the forest, in exchange for wood, wine, and intricate, high-quality crafts and wares fashioned through centuries of skilled practice that the artisan villagers couldn’t hope to approach in their short lifespans.

However, the king’s thoughts of Lake Town were bitter. He had nothing against the pitifully short-lived men there, but the lake itself was to him blacker than the Dead Marshes. When he closed his eyes, the grayed, gangrenous corpse of his father with blood-stained, angry pupils stared up at him from beneath liver-colored wind-swept waters, bony fingers pointing to him accusingly from the marshy waters, his father’s whispered voice, full of disgust and disappointment, chastising him for failing to bring him home. But from the Lake, nothing. It was dark, deep and silent. And the unbearable weight of that silence said more to him than all the cruel whispers of his father’s ghost ever did.

He had risked his diminished people two years hence in a secretly desperate measure to do some small thing toward relieving himself and all in his realm from the lingering evil that engulfed the lake as a suffocating mist, just as it spread through the edges of the forest and utterly overpowered the southlands. It was growing. The people of Lake Town and even the nearby dwarves held no memory or record of the dark events of the earliest days of his reign upon return from the south with so many fewer than had set out. No relief met them at home, and rather than recovery and rebuilding, his earliest rule at home was instead marked by more defeat, more loss, and more tragedy. He immediately lost all aspiration of ever living up to his father’s legacy or of setting any bold future for his son. The body of Legolas’s mother lay as irretrievable as Oropher’s, on hard, cold lifeless bedrock, crushed under the weight of nearly a kilometer of black water at the lake’s deepest part, her mortal wounds unseen and untended. Never did he see her in any vision or dream, and to his heart it was the harshest judgment of his rule that she made herself lost to him forever. If she would haunt him like his father, he would fall to his knees in gratitude, but the lake remained dark, deep and silent.

So he endured. And his kingdom endured. It was all he could do.

---

Bard had, he thought, found an ally and friend in the king in the course of the Battle of the Five Armies. He was thrust into a position of responsibility he had never desired or imagined in its outcome, and had naively expected guidance from his far more experienced and seasoned elven counterpart.

Each day when he awoke, the faces of Bard’s children looked at him expectantly for instructions for the day, but he did not want to instruct anyone. He didn’t want to give orders, listen to annoying officials, or make another decision with consequences he could only vainly hope to foresee. He did his best to serve his people well regardless of his insecurity and self-doubt, but the way his children looked at him, as if they believed he knew what he was doing, kept him awake at night more than anything else.

He remembered their mother looking at him the same way each day he came home to her with some new remedy for her illness, gathered with little optimism from a different witchy old woman in the market. She expected every remedy to be the last, but for a different reason than he. She was cheerful and grateful to the end, and sang soft, sweet lullabies to the youngest even on her last night. At every dawn she would comment about feeling a little better in the fresh light and she would list off chores she planned to accomplish that day with her newly returned vigor, but he knew they would remain undone. He knew she was dying and felt the sting of failure and hopelessness, unable to hide his despair even to spare her or his children from his dark mood, contrary to the jovial spirit he was usually known for. As she finally, after months of wasting, drew her last breath, a grimace of surprise at death’s arrival froze upon her face. He was haunted by her unwarranted faith in him and the dawning realization of its betrayal as her final expression was seared into his memory.

His letters to Thranduil for advice piled upon his cluttered and dusty desk, unsent. He had sent only one, the invitation to his ceremony which was replied to quickly by staff with nothing more than a yes, the King would attend. There had been no other communication or visit between them since the King’s departure at battle end. Aid had come from the elves in generous measure, but it still took two years to rebuild to a semblance of normalcy.

The thusly long-delayed autumn ceremony was held on the great dock over the blackest side of the lake, where the waters quickly plunged to unmeasured depths, the cedar posts decorated with purple asters, yellow ribbons, and shiny copper pennies hung from strings gently bowing between them. The elf-king had stood erectly, two heads taller than all the residents of the town, on the shore by the dock, arms held down in front of him, right hand over left. He was dressed in beautifully woven shimmery green and red robes, yet peculiarly in his battle crown rather than the expected autumn Rosehip and Aster. He stared into the distance with a hard-set jaw and hardly paid attention to the proceedings. He had congratulated Bard with a warm handshake at the event’s conclusion, but his smile had been weak and he and his party were nowhere to be found when the later noise of festive fiddle, drink, and dance by firelight carried to all shores of the lake in the unseasonably warm and starry night.

At first opportunity to make excuse, Bard sought out the companionship of the last chirping crickets of fall while morose thoughts of the king grabbed his mind and wouldn’t let go. He analyzed and counter-analyzed every memory he had of Thranduil. Where had he misjudged? Was he reading too much into nothing, his own insecurities tainting his vision? Surely he was. He imagined Thranduil stepping out of the darkness in front of him, shining eyes and mirthful expression with a quick, clever joke about Bard’s foolishness. But then he felt ice-cold as he recalled the king’s distant expression at the ceremony. The image of the regal elf’s face gazing over the water and his wife’s dead stare were all too similar , and they confirmed his self-reckoning as a great imposter, unfit to rule.

His lifespan and its mark in the depths of time, no matter what he did or did not accomplish as leader or father or husband, could amount to nothing but a drop in the oceans of memory of the eons-aged Thranduil. Bard and his imposterous legacy would be gone before an elf-king could hardly even notice. It would be a waste of time for Thranduil to bother at all with Bard. Indeed, how silly he had been to send that invitation.

He felt his cheeks redden with shame now at wanting more from him. He was selfish in his desire for friendship and guidance from the ever-graceful king. In truth, he was deeply lonely without his wife and greatly felt the burden of now finding himself in a position where everyone looked to him. Who could he himself look to? In his fanciful daydreams, he had looked to Thranduil and felt himself secure in his embrace. It gave him comfort and hope, but if such fantasies had any reality, had he not considered what it would be like for his Comforter? He knew but rumors of the great losses in the long life of Thranduil Oropherion, but he had seen enough in his eyes to know there was some truth in those rumors. How could there not be for anyone so long-lived? How could any ellon or elleth’s life be anything but a long string of grief after grief, especially if they entangled their hearts in kinship with short-lived humanity? Bard well knew the tortures of memory from just decades of existence, but the thought of the weight of eons of memory nearly broke him then and there, and he buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

---

It was almost unbearable to stand on the shore over her resting place. Indeed, when he received the invitation, he had no hesitation in accepting it, but he resolved to wear his battle crown to give him strength to bear it. Today he battled memory. A cool breeze wafted off the lake, competing with an unseasonably warm afternoon haze. In his peripheral vision, a small cabbage white butterfly flopped around between purple asters that were hung along the dock while Bard officially rose to the station he deserved.

Without turning his head, he turned his eyes to the butterfly only for it to vanish. Unbidden, a memory of his beloved, smiling broadly and laughing as a white butterfly landed on the aster crown upon her head took over his consciousness. He could sense every aspect of that moment – the fluttering of dusty white wings, the sparkling low-angled sunlight illuminating her smile and making her hair shine like starlight, the lilting musicality of her laughter over the sound of leaves being gently rustled by the breeze. It was a hallucination as vivid as reality, but as soon as he tried to grasp it for even more detail, it, like the butterfly, vanished suddenly, replaced by cold black waters. He steeled his jaw and told himself to “Endure, Thranduil, as you must.”

He willed his mind to turn to Bard. He was most pleased to see him rising in position. He was a man of good quality, and this bode well for the future in this part of the world, if little else did. He greatly enjoyed Bard’s down-to-earth forthrightness and light-hearted humor. He was saddened to think of him growing old before his eyes, but in the short time he had interacted with Bard, the man had a way of keeping him in the present, living in the moment. Staying in the present was something Thranduil needed. No matter how much time he had to live, spending it all in memory was spending it all unwholly alive. Memory was a half-death. Despite his age, he wanted to live.

Bard’s chestnut eyes and stride were full of youth even though his dark hair was frosted at its edges with a touch of gray, and the quick recalling of his smile and laugh made Thranduil wistful. His reverie was stalled when he saw it was time to offer his congratulations and he did so sincerely, but his heart continued to tug him back and forth between now and Then , so he set off on his own down the shoreline, lost in his thoughts.

The butterfly came back to his mind. Butterflies were a symbol of hope, and his wife’s name had meant hope. Was she speaking to him at long last? He barely dared to entertain the idea. He reasoned that convincing himself so was merely his own will fabricating a construct to justify what he wanted but did not deserve. The Silvan elves, he knew, deeply revered and trusted their King, but he knew better his own unworthiness, reminded constantly by the haunting and the lack of haunting of Oropher and Hope. He had let them down, and he had merely wrought survival and endurance, but not thriving, for the people who counted on him. He tried to make long life merry for his people, making great efforts in the seasonal festivals for their enjoyment, but it was all thinly veiling the darkness barely kept at bay.

His people deserved more, but without Hope, he could barely imagine there being better days in their future. Thranduil was amazed at the general optimism of men, who died barely beyond birth. Perhaps their brevity allowed it, being unburdened with the full knowledge of the endless onslaught of evil . Indeed, Bard epitomized the hope in men. He was born to no station, beaten down by poverty, corruption and plague, yet shot straight the arrow to a seemingly impossible victory, the full impact of which would unfold fully over decades to come. Thranduil desired to ride that arrow, to soar and strike the heart of darkness.

The sky had long since changed from light blue to brilliant copper and deep purple, now to a sea of ink teeming with brilliant pinpoints of varying size and hue arrayed in artful asterisms. He beheld the butterfly constellation, with a large white star at its head, slowly rising in the East. Yes, it did so every fall, but tonight he decided to heed its rising as a call to action. He turned back along the rocky shore he had traveled down for miles, a decision made, a soft smile on his lips.

---

“My friend, tonight is a night for celebration, not tears. Let us enjoy the present. Set aside your grief of the past and your worries of the future. I will help you.”

The sonorous voice rose from the darkness right in front of Bard and he raised his head to find Thranduil’s hand outstretched before him. Bard gingerly put his hand in his, and felt himself instantly being lifted both in spirit and body into the arms of the Elven King. He took a deep breath, inhaling the wintergreen scent of the King’s cloak. His weight was born by Thranduil for a moment as he gained his footing, and in that moment the Kng carried him, he felt relieved and refreshed, as if he had slept well after many long sleepless nights. His tears formerly of despair transformed their chemistry to those of unexpected joy.

“I have longed for you,” he dared to whisper into his friend’s ear, with a tinge of fear in his voice. Thranduil’s action was small, a gentle word and an outreached hand, but it had changed everything. His fear was in making too much of the action, but surely it was a gift of elven magic that had so instantly transformed his mood. A soft chuckle rose in the King’s throat, and Bard’s fear was quelled.

“You are forthright and brave to bare your heart to me. So I will bare mine to you to tell you that I seek you as a salve for the loneliness of kings. In so doing, perhaps I can spare you some of that loneliness as well. So, come with me, and let us enjoy the present together.”

The pair walked away from the shore together, into a finger of the forest that concealed them from view of any passersby, and soon joined together in a bed of moss on the forest floor. When lightness split the eastern horizon, they emerged as the pair that went in, together.

---

Over the years, many people remarked about the strength of the bond between the King of the Woodland Realm and Bard of Lake Town, and happily recounted how the deepened alliance had improved the futures of both realms for centuries. The story of their bond became an oft-related tale crafted to say that true companionship had the power to change the fates of many.

Thranduil had just heard report of one of the latest versions of this tale as part of a recounting of the news gathered on the latest rounds. As he changed into evening robes, the Butterfly 's bright head and fluttering body rising in the eastern night sky filled his view. Bard had been gone for generations now, but he counted the wisdom of the tales as true, for many fates had changed, including his. He cherished the memory of Bard, his companion against the loneliness of kings.

#thranduil #elvenking #thranduil fanfic #bard the bowman #barduil

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playername-player-of-games · 7 months

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hey hey hey shadowrot pirate au? i am intrigued :0

YEEEEEAAAAAAH THANK YOU !!! warning for pirate typical violence yippee (killing, some blood, loss of limbs, kidnapping)

SO there's a pirate island and stuff and crews can do jobs for each other as well as for important people on the island. pirate captain Cleo takes a job to kidnap some noble's daughter for a hefty sum of gold (like 10,000-20,000, it's nothing to sneeze at) it'll take a few weeks to get to the girl and then another couple days to get to the dropoff location so she snatches it before anyone else can get it

Lizzie is easy enough to capture. she's a dainty little thing and Cleo is built like a mountain. they plunder and slaughter most of the folks in the manor and manage to get Lizzie out with only a few minor injuries

"Oh, there you are, love." The pirate grasps her arm, yanking her out from under the table. She yelps as she's brought face to face with the mountainous woman, suddenly very close to a wicked smile and the orange curls cascading down her shoulders. "My my, aren't you a dainty thing?" she purrs, the glint in her eye reminiscent to a hawk eyeing a mouse. "Deepest apologies, trinket, but you're worth an awful lot of gold."

they tie her up and gag her or just straight up knock her out and once they're back on the ship she gets the best cell in the brig. there's minimal bonding between lizzie and whoever is tasked to guard her, and she doesn't see cleo again until the last day

Lizzie wakes to someone tying her hands together. "Wh- hey!" she tries to kick, but Grian has her ankles, "what is the meaning of this!" Scar's smile is sheepish and apologetic as he swiftly secures her wrists together. Lizzie growls and attempts to shake him off- "Good morning, trinket." Lizzie's head whips around to the staircase. The mountainous woman is there, with her cascading curls and a tricorn hat. She's smirking, the glint in her eye amused as she pushes off the wall and slowly strides towards the cell. Scar steps away to make room. Grian does not release Lizzie's ankles. "Now, here's how this is going to work," says the woman, squatting down to Lizzie's level here on the floor, "you may walk all by yourself-" "Finally," Lizzie hisses. "If," remarks the woman, "and only if you promise to behave." Lizzie frowns. "Do you promise, trinket?" "My name is Lizzie." "Do you promise?" Lizzie glares. The woman's smile might as well be painted. She spits, "I promise." "Wonderful," the woman stands, then gestures for her to get up, "come on then, they're waiting for us."

They bring her onto the island and then to the handoff location. Lizzie and Cleo are allowed in (and maybe one more). the location is inside this little cave that's mostly hidden by waterfall and vines and upon entering they find. idk, criminal-looking guys and a man who looks like he's half cod, and suddenly Cleo shifts gears

she refuses to hand lizzie off until they explain what's going on. at first they're difficult to work with, but after cleo manages to nearly slice off somebody's hand and kill someone else, they confess, at swordpoint, that lizzie is the heir to the ocean throne and they plan to take both her and the half cod man back to the ocean empire's oversea meeting place (idk) and try to trade them both for some kind of riches. maybe the ocean's blessing so they can have control over the sea. or something (that's probably what im going to go with)

cleo is like. naaaah you're not doing that and gives a signal and her crew comes busting in and they manage to get out with both lizzie and the cod man, but now they're on the run from some powerful pirates who want them dead

after that it's a little bit just. heeey pirates are cool here's some cool piratey things! Lizzie has to deal with the fact that she's half fish and oh look that cod boy is named jimmy and he's her brother

Cleo:

is the captain, yes, but im also playing with the idea that she's somehow immortal/can't die? (to tie in the whole zombie thing! - i have an idea for a scene where lizzie tries to escape by stabbing cleo clean through the chest and cleo kinda breathes weird but takes the sword out no problem and the wound closes instantly- that's how lizzie realizes she can't just walk out of here, unfortunately)

they're huuuuge. at least a head and a half taller than lizzie methinks. huge and buff and covered in scars.

Lizzie:

Heir to the ocean kingdom

Part blue axolotl, gains siren powers when she goes into the water (gills, webbed hands and feet, a tail like an axolotl, webbed ears), and she can control people by singing

jimmy is her little brother that she had no idea she had. (same mother, different fathers. he's trans and also way taller than her)

possibly also immortal. now that she actually has the chance to live as a full siren her lifespan will lengthen and her aging will go kinda weird lol

other stuff:

i haven't decided if i want it to be a traffic life thing, or a hermit/empires crossover and i think it'll be a little of both where i just pick and choose what character stuff i want to include but it'll be more traffic guys cause i know their vibes better

im still puzzling out who i want on her crew, it'll probably be a mesh of hermits and life series folks. grian and scar are there, probably also X, Joe, Cub, Pearl, Gem and maaaaybe Scott?

BigB used to be on the crew but then he sabotaged the crew by burning the ship down and he joined a different crew (maybe skizz's crew idk) and after their crews sorta meshed he's finding his footing again and trying to be trusted who knows. maybe he's been slowly gaining trust and as they're fleeing from the trading cave cleo yells for him to light the enemies' ship on fire and that's how he knows she kinda sorta trusts him again? (i have to watch povs i dont actually think they like each other in character rip)

i want cleo and lizzie to dance at some point. cleo thinks fondly back to who she was before she was a pirate - also some kind of noble's child, trained in etiquette and dancing and all kinds of things. this might be the first time lizzie ever thinks of herself as a pirate- and it was by accident, comparing herself to cleo

lizzie is trusted to wander the deck pretty quickly after The Incident with the traders, but Jimmy is stuck in the brig for a while until Lizzie commands cleo to let him out. he's let out but not without supervision and slowly works his way into the crew

Lizzie is almost full human out of the water (save for her white eyes when she has the power of the ocean with her), but Jimmy is still half cod out of the water (it's how he was caught- it's obvious he's from the sea)

cleo and lizzie do kiss. i've actually written out that scene but i'm going to save it for later <3

lizzie asks to be trained in sword fighting - the crew teaches her how to fight and be a pirate. she swordfights and wields a gun and a crossbow and gets a new outfit and stuff and she's pretty good at it

Lizzie miiight get her hair cut off in a fight. Cleo might as well. idk i think they'd be pretty with short hair

should they get matching tattoos that would be cute of them

i dont know how much magic i want to have in the world, i have a REALLY hard time imagining grian without wings, but if i give him wings then why can't i make cleo a full on zombie? what about other hybrids? i think i want to go for it but we'll see

i think it would be fun to have soulmates be a thing. i think it'd be even funnier to have soulmates be a Cleo's ship exclusively thing. like her boat is cursed and as long as you're on it with your soulmate you both get hurt when one of you gets hurt. maybe when you get hurt flowers bloom on the other's skin. maybe grian and scar are both covered in flowers and scars and claim to despise each other but you can see the fondness in their eyes whenever they talk to each other. idk. it would be funny.

Cleo calls Lizzie "Trinket" because trinkets are small and fragile but also very pretty and can mean a lot to whoever is holding onto them

uuuuhhhh what else. eventually they'd probably go to the sea. i think that's all the ideas i have right now :D

#shadowrot #trafficshipping #asks #brainrotting a pirate au #< is the tag to block if you don't wanna hear me talk about this #if you have ideas. im making grabby hands at you. i wanna hear all about it

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manifesting-principessa · 2 months

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the beginner's guide to making money by investing in stocks (hot girl version)

since one of my goals here is to make money i wanted to teach you about what i know about investing in stocks. i use the website etoro to invest, below you can see a picture of my portfolio at the moment. i am by no means an expert but i've found the whole process of investing to be unnecessarily mystified so i thought i'd share what i have learned so far.

what does buying stocks mean?

in simple terms, buying stocks means buying a (tiny) fraction of a company. if the value of the company increases the value of your share goes up, if the company loses money the value goes down.

when should i buy and sell?

ideally, you should buy when you think that the value of a stock will increase in the future and you should sell when you have made a profit. in practice, this means you try to invest when a stock has reached its lowest value and you sell when you think it has reached its peak (but this is, of course, impossible to predict perfectly).

where can i buy stocks?

i would personally recommend going through an online stock trading platform, like etoro. you can look up what the best stock trading platforms are for your country. you should pick one with minimal fees that offers some tutorial or introduction to trading.

you can also go through a stock broker (a person that makes the investments for you) or more broadly your bank - be aware though, that they might take a cut of your profit for their services which is something you need to subtract from your expected profit.

how do i know what to invest in?

There are a few recommendations that I have seen time and time again:

ETFs - exchange-traded funds are bundles of stocks that are traded together. the advantage of ETFs is that they don't rely on a single company making a profit, the companies just need to make a profit overall. they are much less volatile than individual stocks and since economies usually always grow in the long-term, you are very likely to make a profit.

large companies - you can also invest in large, well-established companies that are very likely to make a profit and very unlikely to go bankrupt (e.g., apple, amazon, etc.)

diversify - this means you should invest in a wide variety of companies and industries. even when one of them does really poorly you are likely to make a profit overall.

copy-trading - this means 'copying' the investments of a more experienced trader. so you specify an amount of money and invest it the same way someone who knows what they're doing is.

how much should i invest?

most websites have a minimum amount you need to invest so you could start with that to get a feel for how it works.

as a rule of thumb, they say you should not invest money that you will need within the next 5-10 years. that rule prevents you from having to sell your stock at an unfortunate moment - even if you initially write losses, you can wait for a moment when your stocks have increased in value again.

if you have a fixed income you can commit to investing a part of your income every month. i've seen this referred to as dollar-cost averaging and i have not tried it yet but it is said to be a good way to build wealth in the long term.

how do i actually make money using this knowledge?

simple answer: by selling your stock at the right time and withdrawing the money. investing is a marathon, not a sprint - you should generally give your money some time to make a profit instead of checking every day and panic selling when you see a slight change. for some stocks, the company may also pay dividends. disclaimer: at least where i am from you need to declare what you made from stocks as income and pay taxes on it.

thank you so much for reading!

if you have questions or know more about this and want to add something please leave a comment 💕

#financial freedom #law of assumption #stock trading #financial empowerment #financial education #neville goddard #manifesting money #manifestation #rich girl

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thecrazyworldbuilder · 2 months

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Random setting: Gods of The Worldhold

Gods of The Worldhold were more than just theoi. Gods were a mantle, a role to be played. Sure, what mortals called “gods” were usually theoi, but many were once mortals themselves.

A god was anyone who was mantled as such, and that was a dangerous play, for there were many mantles, and some wanted to wear several at once. And, to the world’s displeasure, so they did.

Volcanoes and smiths were forever joined under the dual-mantled god Heph. Sea depths and the eldritch were sewn together by noble Cthera, who vowed to contain the latter deep beneath the sea.

Sometimes gods were mantled new. A human god, god of the city of Azareth named Narthur, was once a mortal man, but achieved divinity through ascension, his soul finding the god mantle among the stars, and now blessing the royal bloodline.

And every time, when a god mantle changed owners, when a new god mantle was found or when one god conquered another and sewed their mantles together, it was a world-changing event. The ground trembled, the skies roared, and a new period, era, began.

And so it did this time.

When the god of magic, Thaumus, conquered the god of writing, Ackad, and took his mantle without thinking twice. The god of magic and writing, he thought - how powerful he’d be. How magnificent.

He was right. For the misfortune of the whole realm.

Every letter. Every word, every book - every single little glyph and graffiti, every tattoo.

All exploded with magic spells.

The world was destroyed, utterly. A new era began, an era where writing itself was a source of magic, where no book was possible without causing a chaotic explosion of spells, where no literacy could be spread.

...

The city of Azareth, mentioned above, didn’t quite survive the Apocalypse.

It housed some of the greatest libraries in the known world, and they changed it irreversibly. Each became an epicenter of a great fireball of raw, wild magic, transforming people into thousands of different shapes per second, turning matter to change state countless times. Gaseous rock. Liquid air. Solid blood.

Narthur managed to bless the city to become populated once again when people who weren’t in it at the time came and settled down. Among polygonal columns of stone, among buildings ruined, utterly, and terrain indescribable in short.

Azareth became a new cradle for humanity, and so did many other places around the world, where there weren’t as many books, or where there was a god to try and keep the land safe.

Many years have passed. Many have forgotten the specifics of this Apocalypse, yet every single children tale now spoke - to never, ever, write.

Kenkus traveled between cities as messengers, memorizing long speeches dictated to them. Once rogues and outcasts, they became the founders of the Courier Guild, growing riches, controlling the mail and shipment of practically any item.

The little number of elves who survived managed to explore the magic of writing as it was now. They were the ones who discovered the frightening fact of magic being bound to writing and writing only, as well as all writing, subsequently, being bound to magic. From this, an unlikely union came to fruition, as dwarves joined forces with the elves, and together, started re-exploring the magic of writing, letter by letter, creating enchanted items of great power.

Goblins, hobgoblins, orcs - all came to a renaissance as they never practiced writing before, so, their losses were minimal. Great raiding forces soon came into being, huge nations of many monstrous races working together for their own survival; Farming, building, waging wars, trading.

Divine magic was now the only way to cast spells, other than using writing for it, like scrolls and the like.

(Aaand it kind of stops there.)

#worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #fantasy #fantasy world #worldbuilding ideas #world creation #worldbuilder #dnd #worldbuilding tips

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wehaveagathering · 4 months

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flyers post-coots Captain announcement thoughts under the cut (you will not like what i have to say)

i think this means they're .... looking really, really seriously at tr*ding laughton

up until yesterday when looking at the list of names that could be up at the trade deadline - walker, seeler, staal, ristolainen / frost, laughton - one of the main concerns at least for me was locker room culture and leadership? with laughton as the only letter, if you trade him, you have a serious lack of official leadership roles in the room, and no anchor-point guys to look to. BUT, with an official C and a new A – two clear signs that Coots & TK aren't going ANYwhere – you have a little more leeway with leadership. laughts was already on the chopping block, but his neck was made of gold. now, as cruel and cold as it is, he's far more expendable. at this point, if you're DB and Tortorella, objectively, it's a reasonable decision, and you've set yourself up for as minimal loss to bench & locker room culture as possible. waiting this long as well allowed Coots to establish himself in the room after his return and allowed TK to get used to a different role as well as he matures.

a rather lengthy aside: i think - again i'm new, wasn't here for the giroux era, tho i wish i was - that they learned their lesson about philly sports teams and pressure. from what i know, G didn't respond great to the added pressure of being captain, points production dropped, etc. Bryzgalov as well – the phl media was cruel to him to the point where HIS stats began to drop because of pressure. you need to know that the guy in this new role can HANDLE the pressure of not just the room and the team, but philadelphia, a city that makes sports not just a part of fan culture, but an intrinsic part of its identity as a city. coots, at 31, with a good few years left in him, is a guy that can withstand the pressure. i know a lot of people wanted TK to be captain – i think he's still too young. i think this is a good decision. laughts as the C – i think his frustration and lack of scoring this season would only bog him down as the C, and i think that philadelphia would look critically at that decision. but i think coots is respected in a gritty philly kinda way, been a flyer the whole time, bounced back from injury, etc. idk. great decisions all around if i'm being honest, and i'm glad they took their time.

also, back to my original point – yeah, I know torts said this, but you can't NOT say something about the guy that's captained an NHL team as Not-A-Captain for a year and a half all by himself. of course he's been vital. but that's the thing. he might not be vital anymore.

OF COURSE, if you're me in my feely-weely-weelings, you're not looking at this objectively at ALL, you're climbing into john tortorella's attic and sending your voice echoing through his walls that if he trades scott laughton you will descend upon his house like the plagues of egypt and never again will he rest soundly

anyway let me know ur onions

#flyers

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detectivechen · 1 year

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so what can they do?

nobody likes a person who points out problems without suggesting solutions, so i’m back with what’s gotta give on the rookie.

imo their current problems aren’t rooted so much in ‘you can’t please everyone’, but rather ‘the writers are doing the absolute most to please everyone who ever existed in ~40 min.’

what’s the difference? the former puts the blame on the audience for ‘not getting it,’ while the latter asks the writers to take accountability for the directionless quality of their work. their method of ppl pleasing rn is highly unsustainable, so they need to course correct expeditiously or risk crashing and burning spectacularly.

here are some suggestions.

decline at least one of the regulars' checks.

help everyone on feds file for unemployment.

brush up on the neuroscience of reward.

put some respect on the psychology behind miller's law.

be warned: it's a lengthy below the cut! 😈

decline at least one of the regulars' checks.

alexi oprah-ed a lil too hard when handing out the series regular contracts this szn. s5 has a whopping number of NINE regulars/main characters: bailan (nolan and bailey), chenford (tim and lucy), wopez (angela and wesley), nyla, aaron, & grey. to be clear, that’s 9 whole actors who must be featured in at least one scene per ep, even if their characters don’t fit into the featured plots.

the number isn’t the problem, as s1/s2 had 8: the rookies (jackson, lucy, nolan), the TOs (tim, angela, talia/nyla), grey, & captain andersen. the problem is the writers’ propensity to give each couple their own storyline in nearly every episode. it’s unnecessary, and we’ll come back to this later.

solution? at least one of the series regulars needs to go. my vote is for bailey. she stretches the rookie universe too wide by pulling focus away from the mid-wilshire crew with her jane-of-all-trades shtick.

imo nathan and jenna’s lack of chemistry + their characters’ mr. and mrs. perfect 'brand' is the ultimate recipe for becoming the ‘pee break’ couple. so killing bailey off and having nolan process that resulting grief would give his too perfect character the depth that he so desperately needs to be likable rn. after all, bailey is supposed to his loml, right?

help everyone on feds file for unemployment.

tldr the last point? it's cool. basically, in order for og rookie to go back to its roots, the universe has to get smaller. solution? stop tryna make feds happen! let this upcoming episode be the last time the walmart version comes onto the brand name’s.

the ‘crossovers’ are most def the rookie’s way of minimizing their losses from their investment on feds. it’s doing so poorly that it needs to be propped up by the shock and awe that chenford generates. when feds eventually gets cancelled, most of s5 will be unwatchable bc of the crossover cliffhangers. idk maybe don’t force-feed us new characters that we don’t feel emotionally connected to? or at least buy us some dinner first, gosh. 🤷🏻‍♀️

brush up on the neuroscience of reward.

if the writers are feeling butthurt that their audience has been disappointed weekly since chenford kissed in 5x12, then they need a crash course on the neuroscience of reward STAT.

chenford was interesting bc the reward of seeing them give in to the pull was always unpredictable. so every time they kiss, it’s not like a reward, it is a reward. we get an intense dopamine high that keeps us up and posting all night, work and other commitments in the morning be damned.

the human brain is naturally wired to do everything it can to recreate that positive feeling, so we come back weekly to patronize the show in anticipation that something similar might happen again. so ofc, when it doesn’t happen again after one week, we’re understanding; it just happened last time. but when it doesn’t happen for the 4th week in a row? chaos. we go feral in search of that dopamine hit that may never come again.

solution? keep the narratives tight. if you’re not gonna give the audience a big moment like that, then supplement it with smaller, but equally unexpected moments. (to be clear, they shouldn’t be dropping big moments on the reg bc neuroadaptation becomes a prob. the unpredictability is what keeps the audience coming back. capiche?)

so if you’re gonna drop crumbs? make it mean something. take angela and tim’s interaction in 5x02 before angela transformed into a morose mom. ‘so remind me what you were doing again, in lucy’s apartment, when chris was bleeding out?’

this could’ve been called back in 5x13 when tim asked angela what’s poppin at nolan’s house during the heat wave. in one line, she could’ve said ‘oh, so dropping her off is what the kids call it nowadays, huh?’ or something to confirm to both chenford and the audience that everyone’s clocked the change in their relationship.

put some respect on miller's law.

miller’s law is the theory that the working memory can only hold 7±2 ideas at once. when the ideas are as complex as storylines, that magic number maxes out at 5. the recap sequence in 5x16 alone had us recall SIX. imagine how tired and confused i was when they also threw in celina’s dead sister trauma on top of an ebola + sarin gas drone firefight.

i understand that there is prob great external pressure from ABC for og to capitalize on its success by creating an empire, especially with grey’s on its last legs. so they’ve been trying to go bigger and better by throwing spaghetti at the wall and seeing what sticks.

sure, every couple can have their own storyline…but not all at once in the same damn ep! sure, you can call back fan-favorite scenes…but not if the rising action takes too long, leaving no room for jesus a satisfying denouement! sure, you can give your marquee couple most of the run time…but not if their moments are the equivalent of an HS prom-posal! (leave no room for jesus here instead, i beg!)

the writing in the first three seasons of the show was more character-driven and intentional. talia kept giving lucy pointed looks until she broke up with nolan. nolan spent s2 building his house, only to tear it apart to exonerate himself. jackson spent half of s3 riding with a racist to make sure that he exposed that man’s sorry ass in front of his peers.

s4 seemed to be another attempt to expand the rookie universe by having the mid-wilshire crew follow-up on random lil cases that would be resolved in the same ep, but s5 is overdoing this formula. there are more conflicts that need to be resolved in multiple eps besides the tired elijah/abril/la fiera storyline.

so what does my wishlist look like for the couples? i guess you'll have to stay tuned to find out 😉

#the rookie #chenford #course corrections #the rookie s5 #mine.post

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gamingavickreyauction · 11 months

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Statistics is ethical in a way that I think almost universally goes unacknowledged. I'm not talking here about whether you use the median or mean income, for example. Things like that are probably more important than what I'm talking about but more spoken about. I'm talking about how you even go about estimating a statistic in the first place - they don't come from nowhere.

Let's take an example: Suppose you are tasked with estimating the prevalence of some disease - the flu maybe - and this statistic is going to be used for health policy decisions. Let's further suppose that everything about epidemiology is understood, so there aren't any ethical disagreements about which scientific assumptions are built into the way you produce your data. Everyone agrees about how the world works, and your only task is to compute an estimator in terms of observable variables.

How do you go about doing that? Maybe you pick some loss function and - knowing perfectly how the world works - compute which estimator minimizes the loss function. But which loss function? The prevalence of a strain of flu may vary orders of magnitude, so if you minimize MSE, it matters a huge amount if you take MSE in the log prevalence or prevalence itself.

In the latter case, the vast majority of error comes from the scenarios with a high prevalence, and estimators that perform badly when there is a low prevalence aren't punished much. Maybe this is desirable - the high prevalence scenario is presumably the more concerning one, so it's the one that's more important to get right.

But there are reasons to be concerned about getting the low prevalence scenario wrong too. If you're constantly going into emergency mode because of false positives, that's going to be draining on all sorts of resources: finances, doctors' morale, the mental health of disabled people asked to stay home when there is no need. How do you weigh up how important it is to not overreact vs. not underreact? There's no objective way, it's an ethical call.

Now suppose there are some rare scenarios in which your conventional estimators would perform very badly - some mutation that means the strain no longer shows up in the tests you're using. Suppose there are other ways to test for the mutant strain, but they're much less reliable - they might throw up false positives a lot.

Do you try to take account of these unorthodox measures? If you do, you will be a lot more wrong, a lot of the time. But you stand a much better chance of being right in unlikely scenarios that might be highly important. You have to balance preparation for unlikely, extreme scenarios with minimizing disruption in normal times. And that ethical balancing act is all baked into the formula for the statistic you ultimately choose. It's not just something for policymakers to worry about, not something where you can just be neutral and present both sides. What picture of reality 'the data supports depends on your ethical inclinations.

The fundamental issue is that statistics are always for something, and when we have a policy which is some function of the statistics computed P=f(x^), choosing which inaccuracies in the statistics to trade off against each other always amounts to trading off inaccuracies in policies - you need to decide which policies are easy you can most afford to get wrong.

This is something that tends to wash out with large sample sizes - all statistics will generally converge to approximately the same answer with enough data. But much of the difficulty of statistics is that you don't have enough data - and in practice, the data you have will always be less than you would like, and unreliable in myriad ways.

So I just think statistics classes should talk about this.

#maths

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skarlette1 · 2 years

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Pop-a-licious

--A prequel of sorts to Trojan Teddy.

There wasn’t a lot of income potential in being an ex-supervillainess. All the lucrative gigs I would have taken as the badass mercenary Kylie Kannar, or the profitable mayhem I’d have wreaked as the cybernetic supervillainess Razorgirl were now off-limits. My superheroine girlfriend Lodestone would never forgive me if I pulled that kind of shit anymore. She actually believed all that stuff about “justice” and “private property” and “not breaking people’s legs to make a buck.” Most days I found her sunny disposition both deeply annoying and completely adorable, so I tried to to be a better badass.

But a girl’s got bills to pay. My marketable skills that did not involve beating the crap out of people were minimal at best.

Luckily, there was one gig that skirted the line: Capturing other supervillains. As long as I didn’t actually murder them, Lodestone could hardly get mad at me for doing the exact same thing she did, right? Some of the creeps that I’d worked with in my bad ol’ days had bounties on their heads that were completely ridiculous.

Take this idiot called Plaything, for example. I could live for over a year on the reward for his capture, and the only superpower he had was to control fucking toys. We’d worked together once. The moron had tried to take down Mnemonica—the telepath who can literally read your mind—by flying toy airplanes at her! He used to call his need for showmanship ostent-awesome. We was always making up stupid, silly words like that. He tried to get me to use them; I’d rather slit my own throat.

I’ll admit that he got the better of Mnemonica for a minute. But when Captain Alpha showed up to rescue her and Plaything defended himself with a squirt gun, I could barely cut my losses and run fast enough.

But I did remember where Plaything’s hideout was. A smart supervillain wouldn’t have gone back to a place that other people knew. But would you use the word “smart” to describe someone who attacked superheroes with teddy bears?

When I got to the abandoned hula hoop factory on the outskirts of Skarlette City, I found a trail of trading card wrappers leading to Plaything’s secret entrance. Those things would have blown away in a light breeze, so he couldn’t have dropped them too long before. Charging up the taser implanted in my left hand, I headed inside.

The narrow hallway under the factory was damp and very, very dark. Rather than alert Plaything of my presence with a flashlight, I switched my cybernetic eyes to night-vision mode. After a few twists and turns, I came to a large room filled with shelves of dusty, old toys. Ahead, the faint sound of a wind-up music box echoed off the concrete walls. The music box was likely a decoy, so I made a wide circle around it, picking my way among stacks of dusty dolls.

Peeking around the corner of the shelf, I was stunned to see a bright shape just a few inches in front of my nose. I nearly grabbed it with my taser-hand before I realized it was just a soap bubble. A few of them floated between the rows of toy shelves, their reflective surface registering unnaturally bright to my cybernetic vision. Blowing bubbles was probably Plaything’s idea of a security system. What a moron!

I stepped around the big bubble and continued to make my way through the room. Every turn seemed to have more bubbles floating lazily through the air. That probably meant I was getting close, but it also limited my line of sight. I didn’t want to stumble blind across Plaything. I snikt out one of the ceramic blades implanted into my right hand and popped a few bubbles. They vanished with a sound that even my cybernetic ears could barely detect. The thinnest sheen of soap residue coated my fingers.

I continued on my way, popping bubbles as necessary. I passed a row of dolls that actually looked kinda cute. They reminded me of Lodestone, with their generous curves and delicate outfits of lace and ribbons. Maybe I’d take one to give her as a gift. She loved this kind of girly shit.

Picking up the doll, the lace tickled my fingertips. More bubbles popped against my arms. I giggled.

What the fuck? I don’t fucking giggle. Particularly not while on a mission. Something was wrong. I needed to withdraw and regroup.

Dropping the doll, I turned and—Fuck!

I tried to drop the doll, but my fist only trembled around her. Trying to turn and walk away, I only rocked on my toes. My whole body had tensed up, every muscle clenching tight.

More bubbles drifted by, bursting as they touched my skin, my clothes, my hair. Each one that coated my body strengthened the bizarre paralysis gripping me. Before long, I was completely frozen in place, my only movement the rise and fall of my chest and the occasional blink. Fucking Plaything must have laced his soap bubbles with a contact paralytic chemical!

“My, my, my!” came Plaything’s reedy voice. “It’s been so long since we’ve had fun together, Razorgirl.”

I tried to tell him that the only fun I wanted was to slice his guts open with my finger-blades. But, with my jaw and lips unable to move, my words came out as inarticulate grunts.

“Good, I’m glad you see the irony. The last time you were here, Razorgirl, you ran away from me. This time, you came looking for me. Now you can’t move a single muscle. I’d call that turnabout-tastic!”

I spit out exactly which of his holes Plaything could jam his stupid, fake words up, but all that came out of my mouth was a stream of drool.

“Oh dear, Razorgirl. Having your stubborn, active mind trapped inside your helpless body must be positively maddening. Let me help.”

Plaything placed a pair of plastic glasses on the face of the doll in my paralyzed hands. They were too big for her head, but it didn’t matter. Since I couldn’t look away, they dominated my field of vision. The glasses had thick, black plastic frames with the word “Hypno Specs” painted on the nose piece. Instead of lenses, they held bits of white cardboard with black spirals printed on them.

“Your problem, Razorgirl, is that your body is ready to be my newest toy, but your mind is just the same serious, grumpy, double-crossing bitch you’ve always been. These glasses are going to help your mind be more like your body. I ordered from the back of a magazine. Just look at them. Just watch the spirals go around and around.”

I knew the spirals were just cardboard. I knew they weren’t actually moving. That didn’t change the fact that I saw them spinning before me. My locked gaze just kept getting pulled deeper and deeper down the spiral, always moving closer to the center, never reaching it. Over and over and—

Fuck! Those bubbles probably had a drug that increased suggestibility, too. I’d had enough supervillains mess with my mind that I knew a hypnotic induction when I was subjected to one. It would be so easy to slide down that spiral and just fall deep, deep, deep into its inky depths...

Not today, fuckhead! Even paralyzed, I had ways to hold onto my mind. I’d learned counter-brainwashing techniques from my former employers at Event Horizon. I just needed to detach myself from the sensations of my body.

“Oh, Razorgirl! Your breath is speeding up. That means you’re playing the escape game. It’s a thrilling game, but one you can’t win.” Plaything held a bubble wand up to my lips, its textured hoop loaded with shimmering liquid. “Tell me your next move in the escape game, Razorgirl.”

Beneath frozen lips, I grunted out Event Horizon Resistance Training. The little puff of breath I exhaled inflated a soap bubble. It floated up before my face.

“What a pretty bubble, Razorgirl. Thank you for breathing your escape plan into it. Watch it float gently away.”

The bubble drifted toward the doll I held. I drew in a breath, desperate to reclaim all my skill in resisting brainwashing. The bubble quivered, but burst against the doll’s silky hair. The soft pop brought my attention back to those ridiculous hypno specs and their endless spiral. I had no idea how to fight against its gravity. My talent for resistance was oozing through the doll’s hair. It soaked down through those long, dark curls the same way the spiral was soaking down, down, down into my soft, open brain. My brain was ready to—

Fuck no! I may not have any special skills, but I was still the meanest, toughest, most badass bitch on the planet. He might have been getting his jollies by stripping off my tactical vest while I couldn’t move a muscle, but there was no way some flabby, pasty-faced nerd boy was going to get the better of me. I growled deep in my throat.

“What a scary roar, Razorgirl! Maybe I’ll let you play at being my personal lioness later. Or maybe my sex kitten. But right now, you’re still playing the escape game. You’ve lost some pieces, but you keep on playing.” Plaything put the bubble wand back to my mouth. “Tell me what you’re using to resist me now, Razorgirl.”

If I just didn’t breathe, he couldn’t take anything more from me. I held my breath. Maybe I could even make myself pass out and collapse on the creepy little fucker!

A pudgy hand slid under my T-shirt and pawed at my breasts. The shock of sensation caused me to gasp out Anger and Pride. The shimmering surface of the bubble seemed to roil with a wrathful red. Every wiggle in its shape showed my fury inside, lunging to return to me.

The bubble popped on the doll’s face. She didn’t flinch as my white-hot rage trickled over her plastic lips. What had anger ever earned me besides trouble? What did I have to be proud of, when I’d been captured so easily by Plaything?

The swirling spirals drew me in. The deeper I went, the deeper there was to go. Around and around and around, my eyes always falling into the spirals. My mind always falling under Plaything’s control. The more I heard his voice, the more his words became my thoughts. The more his hands roamed my body, the more he was able to shape my mind. The more he told me what to think, the more I thought with his voice. The more he rubbed my needy little twat, the more pleasure I felt about obeying him. Soon, I would cum for him and the last of my mind would pop like a bubble. Afterward, Plaything would be the only person who mattered to me in any—

“Nooooooo,”I whined around my paralyzed lips. I couldn’t lose Lodestone. Being with her showed me what else I could be, what else I could hope for—

“Poor Razorgirl wants to cum and submit so badly, but something’s holding you back. What’s your last, losing move in the escape game?” Plaything wheezed in my ear as his fingers roamed my body.

I was so close to cumming that my breath came in ragged pants. Gasping Love Lodestone between stiff-jawed moans, I formed a tiny soap bubble. Short and sexy just like my superheroine girlfriend. The one I would always—

It popped in midair. I popped in his hands. I couldn’t moan or writhe or roll my eyes or arch my back or scream. The climax burst within me like a firecraker inside tiny room. Sharp and hot and deafening.

Plaything opened a little plastic egg from a vending machine. Inside was pink toy slime that he rubbed over my naked skin. As flexibility returned to my muscles, I sagged into him. He gentle lowered me to the floor, my legs weak and quivering from the powerful orgasm.

“The best part of the escape game is that it feels so much better to lose than to win. I loved watching you lose your thoughts through the popping bubbles. And watching you cum when you lost the game looked positively pop-a-licious.” He leaned close to study my expression, his breath sickly-sweet on my face. “What do you think of losing the escape game, Razorgirl?”

Plaything’s eyes were dark and deep, deep, deep. I said the only word in my head. “Pop-a-licious.”

---

Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

All my fiction is on sale at Smashwords from December 15, 2022 through January 1, 2023, including my newest erotic novel, Panther’s Passion!

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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khalnayaksstuff · 2 months

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Unveiling the Truth: Why Indian Traders Struggle

Introduction:

Discover the harsh reality behind the staggering losses incurred by Indian traders and the misleading influences that perpetuate their financial downfall.

The Allure and Deception of Option Trading

Indian traders, enticed by the allure of option trading, have faced devastating losses as influencers peddle unrealistic dreams of instant wealth. Many have fallen victim to their lack of expertise and adherence to faulty trading methodologies. This trend highlights the crucial need for informed decision-making and market understanding.

Navigating the Terrain of Option and Future Trading

Option and Future Trading in India offer lucrative opportunities for profit, yet the landscape is fraught with risks stemming from market volatility and regulatory challenges. Leveraging tools like Odoo software can streamline operational tasks, providing a competitive edge amidst this dynamic environment.

Decoding Call and Put Options

Understanding call and put options is pivotal in the realm of stock trading. Call options grant the right to purchase a stock, while put options enable selling before a specified date. Mastery of contract components such as premiums, strike prices, and durations empowers traders to make informed decisions aligned with market prognostications.

The Predicament of Indian Traders

A staggering 90% of Indian traders face losses within the option trading sphere, often succumbing to impulsive and speculative behavior akin to gambling. The influx of retail traders gravitating towards options denotes the allure of high returns amidst minimal investments, yet the unprepared majority find themselves ensnared in a perilous financial labyrinth.

Unmasking Misleading Financial Influencers

The proliferation of misleading financial influencers within the stock market arena has led to a surge in novice investors lured by promises of easy riches. Their dissemination of false information and illicit practices have catalyzed regulatory interventions aimed at safeguarding unsuspecting clientele from financial exploitation.

The Pitfalls of Emotional Trading

Retail traders in India often fall prey to emotional trading impulses, mirroring gambling tendencies rather than strategic investment methodologies. Their reluctance to adapt strategies post-loss, driven by ego and emotional attachment, underscores the imperative of disciplined risk management and psychological resilience in navigating the tumultuous trading landscape.

Conclusion:

In a realm saturated with financial misinformation and unchecked risks, prudent decision-making coupled with astute market comprehension stand as the pillars of sustainable trading success. By exposing the perils of uninformed trading practices and advocating for educative initiatives, Indian traders can transcend the cycle of losses and cultivate a more secure financial future.

#stock trading #stock market #sebi #nse #bse #share market

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cattimeswithjellie · 1 year

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So the first session of Limited Life was insanely fun to watch just from a character standpoint and I love the teams that are shaping up, but what's really fascinating is the new mechanics. Setting the server on Easy Mode was obviously a mistake and it's going to get fixed, but it's clear that Limited Life is set up to be fundamentally easier than its predecessors when it comes to survival, but also to become much more challenging as the game continues.

In Grian's episode, he talked about how one of the big problems in Double Life was the scarcity of resources due to the change in ore generation from the Caves and Cliffs update. It was hard to get iron, it was almost impossible to get diamond, and the time needed to grind just wasn't there. He talked about how in Session One, people lost a lot of time just getting down to mining level and getting back again, with very little to show for it. This is obviously not ideal for a series where everybody is looking to make interesting videos!

The other big setback issue from Double Life Session One was for Team Rancher, who both lost 90 minutes or so of progress when they got killed and both lost their entire inventories. They rallied and eventually came back from it, but that loss of progress was painful and required a bunch of additional grinding at the beginning of the game.

Now we have Limited Life, and both those pain points have been solved, with Keep Inventory on and double ore generation. (Grian generated the world in 1.17 and then updated to 1.19, so there is ore generated in both the above-zero and sub-zero layers.) Not only does that minimize the time needed for basic materials grinding, but it's made the first session a lot more relaxed. In Session One, death almost doesn't matter. Everyone's got functionally 24 lives, and armor is easy to come by! Fooling around is not a big deal, dig straight down, make that MLG leap, who cares? You don't even lose your stuff!

The thing is, even the best and most careful player has lost three "lives" by the end of session one. Time is life, and nobody can stop that inexorable drain, only try and hold out as long as possible. What good is a full inventory, what good is diamond armor, when the server itself is killing you with every tick of the clock? In the end there's only one currency worth anything, and we're going to start seeing brisk trading as soon as people start turning yellow.

#limited life #limited life spoilers

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chainsofaether · 1 month

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Character Sheet: Nyxathe Voss

Nyxathe Voss

Nicknames: Nyx

Age: Mid to Late 30’s, she isn’t entirely sure.

Nameday: 26th Sun of the Third Astral Moon

Race: Viera, Veena

Gender: Cis Female

Orientation: Pansexual, but complicated. Romantically she really only interested that people that can keep up with her intellectually. Particularly people with heavy magical experience. With a slight lean toward women, or maybe it would be better to say she has a wider attraction to woman romantically.

Sexually she’ll sleep with just about anyone she finds physically attractive if there isn’t an emotional component to it. The only body type she’s outright likely to not find attractive is one of a body builder. Her youth was filled with mostly lithe women so extreme bulk muscle is just off putting to her.

One major catch to all this is someone that wants to have a child with her. Only Viera need apply. She’s not interested in children that life half as long as her at best and likely much less.

Of course this is born from a fear of loss so really it bleeds in to any relationship eventually. Though not to outright rejection beyond children.

Profession: Aetheric researcher, Tutor, Accountant. The later two are simply was to make money to fund the first. The former being her real passion/obsession.

PHYSICAL ASPECTS

Hair: Stark White. Wavy tending toward big curls with minimal effort. Extremely long, well past her waist, though she often keep it pulled up so it appears shorter then it actually is.

Eyes: Pale pink right eye that is slightly clouded. Very light blue left eye. The left eye is her natural color with the right being a byproduct of damage from when she was a child. Sometimes is seen wearing glasses.

Skin: Pale white, extremely smooth. In almost any light she looks like a ghost or at least someone that never sees the sun. Unfortunately for her she honestly just can’t tan at all. A best she gets a slight pink to her tone but then promptly burns with a minute more exposure. Living in Ul'dah is a bit of hell for a number of reasons the sun being one.

Reading all that does she have Albinism?

Tattoos/Scars: None to notice and she’s not exactly shy about her body. Notably not having any scars is a product of magic, in no way natural. Same with the smoothness of her skin.

FAMILY

Parents: Astrid (F) [Deceased] Malcolm Voss (M) [Alive]/ Maria Voss (F) [Alive]

Astrid, Nyxathe’s birth mother. Given birth to Nyxathe in the forests of the Skytay range. Several years later being forced to flee due to a massive fire that presumably killed the rest of the tribe. From there she took Nyxathe south in to Dalmasca and found her self joining the resistance until Nyx was badly injured. With that she took the still child Nyx and fled to Kugane where she found Nyx a magic teach to hone the child’s budding talent and then found herself work suit to her status as a Viera and skills a spy. Leading to meeting Malcolm who eventually brought her and Nyx to Eorzea. Unfortunately a run in with the Amalj'aa lead to her death by Nyxathe’s hands.

Malcolm Voss and Maria Voss, Nyxathe’s adoptive family. Malcolm met Astrid in Kugane during his trading missions from Eorzea eventually hiring her and then building a more personal relationship with the Viera. Eventually he offered to bring the two back to Eorzea with him. Once on Eorzea he introduced Astrid to his wife and officially hired her on a permanent basis. Alas one fateful caravan ride they were ambushed by Amalj'aa and taken captive. Malcolm and Nyxathe survived but Astrid did not. He’d grown close to the teenage Viera, so as a way of thanking her mother he offered to adopt her.

Siblings: Saewara Voss (F) [Alive] Andrea Voss (F) [Alive] Magnus (M) [Alive]

Saewara, Andrea, and Magnus. Oldest to youngest. All the children of Malcolm and Maria born after Nyx had already moved to Ul’dah. Largely she see’s them as siblings but siblings that she has more then a decade on. She was heavily involved in their early educations and are a large part of why she eventually started taking jobs as a tutor for other merchant families.

Grandparents: None living that she’s aware of.

Others: Aside from the family that took her in she doesn’t have any particularly strong relationships with other people. She works with a number of merchant that hire her to tutor their children, but those are all personal relationship. She’s has friends, or is at least friendly, with a few people but no one she’s claim on particular tie to. Part in due to her aversion to loss, but mostly just because she’s so obsessively focused on her research.

Not to say she’s unapproachable, just if you want to make friends you probably need to be able to hold a conversation and not be boring. That and be willing to listen when she start rambling out her latest project.

SKILLS

Abilities: First and foremost Nyxathe is a student of arcanima. In moments of pride she well might even claim to be a master of the art. Pride or not though this isn’t far from the truth. Manipulation of aether has always come easy to her, so much so her mother had her in training at a young age to prevent accidents. Thanks to that field of training she also displays a talent for mathematics, particularly geometry. No surprise considering the importance of geometry to arcanima.

That said her understanding of magic isn’t entirely limited to the one discipline. After all she lives in Ul’dah home of Thaumaturgy. She’d be remiss not to at least learn the basics there. And well Gridania is just over there. The point more or less being that she has a working knowledge of the basics of the other systems. After all her goal isn’t mastery of of one path but instead a holistic understanding of Aether and the manipulation of it. Still she has thirty plus years of study in arcanima, compared to the few years of sporadic study in to the others.

From a practical point this just means Nyxathe could be called a generalist. Healing or hurting are both things she can do in effective measure. That said she isn’t a healer, not in the traditional sense anyway, or even a generalist. Instead she’s hyper specialized in manipulating corporeal aether. Why doesn’t she have scars in spite of her relatively violent life? Unfortunately manipulating a living beings aether can be remarkably deadly if the utmost care isn’t taken and only the most minor changes effected.

Alchemy is another skill she’s invested time in to. At first simply to make her own grimoire and inks. She was constantly experimenting with new designs that it was finally suggested to her to just learn how to make them on her own. She can save money that way. But really that only made the skill a hobby until a few years past when she started to invest more effort in to learning alchemy. She was never particularly open about what she was trying to learn, but like all things that catch her attention she turned to it with pure obsession for over a year before she abruptly stopped and went back to her old research.

Nyxathe can also see aether. Her research would be infinitely harder if she couldn’t. This allows her to check aspecting at a glance, something she very accurate about. In the same it lets her look at other living beings aether, not just her own.

Something Nyxathe doesn't make public, compared to the most of the rest of this information, is that after he encounter so many years ago she discovered she had the echo. Not that she had a name for what she was experiencing, only that she didn’t die and everyone else did. A second effect of that same encounter is that she can summon Ifrit, or well the Egi of him. Though learning to do that was a years long effort later in life.

Hobbies: Research, though calling that a hobby feels a bit like a lie. Still she does so other kinds of research out of pure interest rather then some goal at times.

Swimming, She’s been pretty much obsessed with the ocean since the first time she was on a ship.

She enjoys travel and reading.

She draws on occasion, often trying out new pattern ideas for her spells but other times just geometric shapes or perspective style drawing of whatever she sees.

Cooking. It wasn’t until she lived alone that she realized she was good at cooking and enjoyed it. Of course its often a misused skill considering her obsessive distraction, and at other times just the lack of money.

TRAITS

Most positive trait: Her obsessive drive. It lets her achieve goals that would be nearly unthinkable to someone else in a time frame that is inimical to life. Goals ranging from building a room sized 3D magic circle in her apartment with out any kind of rest over three days. To the goal of simply surviving. The ability to push aside anything that doesn't matter in that specific moment, everything that does not push toward that single goal. Of course once she’s like that struggles to stop and it very much can lead to dangerous side effects, like not resting or eating for three days leading to immediate collapse upon finishing her work.

Worst negative trait: Nyxathe is always a bit emotional, but as her aetheric balance degrades Nyxathe become increasing emotionally unstable. At first simply seeming overly moody. Then beginning to drift to more extreme in to ecstatic bliss that shifts to a frenzy of rage at the drop of a pin. At the start the reactions seem extreme but logical. Eventually though even her logic breaks down. Of course this only happens as her corporeal aether attempts to assert her natural state, something that she manages daily.

Or if magical emotional volatility isn’t a negative trait then I point back to her obsessive drive.

LIKES

Colors: Really all colors, the richer the better. But reds in all forms, a number of her dresses come in rich reds. But since she lacks any real pigment she can pull over wearing nearly any color. She likes gold as an accent color. Purple and gold can be quiet attractive too. She’s not unknown to wear blacks or browns if she traveling or doing other wise dirty work.

Purely for looking though she likes greens and blues. She finds deep greens in particular to be rather soothing to look at.

Smells: She has a complex relationship with the smell of fire and ash. It’s the smell most likely to get an emotional reaction in any case, good or bad. The smell after rain. Vanilla. The ocean, though that is heavily tied to the sound as well.

Textures: The waxy smooth skin of an orange. The smoothness of silk. Cold rough stone.

Drinks: Anything sweet really. Subtle sweetness before cloying taste, but she’s not overly picky. Orange juice is a favorite. Tea, though typically whites teas. She not found of the bitterness of black teas in particular. Given some drinks mitigate that adding additions to mitigate. Fresh water, often times there is nothing more precious then a simple cup of clean, cool water.

OTHER DETAILS

Smokes: Never. She doesn’t see the point. All smoke makes her cough badly and really any burning puts her mind in places she rather not be. It’s less an issue as the years pass but really she’s just not interested in pushing the point.

Drinks: Occasionally, mostly as a social thing. She enjoys clarity of mind. She never really goes out to buy her own alcohol, though she has been given gifts from time to time that she keep at home. She finds the taste of pure alcohol particularly unpleasant so almost anything she drinks is heavily masked if she can help it.

Drugs: Nothing recreational. As with alcohol she enjoys clarity of mind so the mind altering properties aren’t really appealing. Plus she doesn’t really need the risks that come with use. She might be convinced but it’s not something she’d seek out alone.

Mount Issuance: No, not personally. Though she can borrow a chocobo form her families company if she needs one. She’s a trained rider but she finds she enjoys travel by foot if she not in any kind of rush. So more often then not she travels by foot or ship.

Been Arrested: No

Tagged by: @thefreelanceangel and @gatheredfates

Tagging: No one. Because I took like two months to do this and I still have to do Nexa. Still if you haven't done one then do it and tag me so I can look at it.

#ff14 #ooc #nyxathe

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